Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

0. Ian Reed

Schenk has dropped the charges against Justin, but in the mayhem of pursuing Ian and John, Justin's been left in one of the holding rooms. He looks up from his handcuffs when John enters.

"You okay?" Justin's gaze skims over the other man's form, cataloging his injuries.

He watches John's split lip pull further as he grimaces. "No. How're your ribs?"

Justin remembers the force of the blow, and the steady pressure of the hand that tousled his hair. "Might be cracked. Very convincing."

John winces as he drops into the seat next to Justin. His entire frame slumps.

Justin hesitates. "DCI Reed?"

"He's dead." John sighs, hand scrubbing over his beard. "Alice shot him."

Of course. Justin can easily picture her in his mind's eye: face lit up with a righteous thrill, the scene tinged heavy with the smell of gunpowder and blood. All according to her plan.

"What a mess."

John barks out a low laugh. "Yeah. Yeah." 

They sit in silence. Justin isn't sure what to say – everything that he can think of would just be probing more at John's emotional wounds. What can he say about Zoe? Ian?

Instead, he shifts slightly to bump his shoulder against John's. Justin feels John lean into the contact, and watches as the man places his arm over his eyes, heaving out another sigh.

The silence is broken when the door swings open, and Alice saunters in. Justin watches as she looks to John first. John, who hasn't bothered to move, as he tries to chase a semblance of sleep, or attempt to mentally sort out everything that's happened.

Her gaze shifts to Justin, and the mirth in her eyes is clear.

Justin rolls his eyes, and rattles his handcuffs for her benefit. "Yeah, ha ha, I'm the one who ended up in cuffs."

Alice walks to him, and reaches out to skim her fingers over his cuffed wrists. "Very method," she teases.

Justin feels the increased pressure of her grip around him, a silent question for him. He rotates his wrists, so he can squeeze her hands once in reassurance. I'll be fine.

Satisfied, Alice turns her head towards John again. Justin follows her gaze, and inhales sharply at the shock and raw hurt in the man's intense stare, fixed on the pair.

"Ah," Alice mock-gasps, as her fingers smooth over Justin's hands. "We've been found out."

---

I. The Morgans

Equal and opposite. That's what soulmates were: each other's perfect complement. The qualities that one person most lacked were the ones that their soulmate possessed in abundance. And while soulmates didn't have to behave or think in the same ways – case in point, for him and Alice –  they were the ones who could most understand the other.   

But this – Justin was having difficulty understanding.

After everything – parents buried, family dog cremated, Detective Chief Inspector wrangled – Justin was waiting for her when she arrived back home. He'd poured her a glass of red wine – Alice's second favourite, since he'd felt like indulging in some passive aggressive sign that he was still unhappy with her activities from three days ago.

Alice seated herself on the kitchen barstool across from him, and picked up the wineglass. Justin watched as she swirled the wine, breathing in its aroma and returning his even stare. Her lips didn't even have to twitch – Justin could easily imagine the amusement radiating from her very core. Being familiar with her emotions came with the territory of being her soulmate.

"You're cross with me," Alice tried to pout.

"And you're not even the least bit sorry, so let's stop stating the obvious," Justin snapped.

Unfazed by his tone, Alice took a sip of her wine and waited as Justin took a deep breath. That was one of the constants of life: the state of calm that was her soulmate's equilibrium.

"You're back later than I thought," Justin said, once he'd composed himself. "I thought John closed your case this afternoon."

"He did. I went to see someone." Henry Madsen, but Justin didn't need to know – or worry – about that yet. Alice tilted her head slightly. "How did you know we were done?"

"I figured he wouldn't have gone to see his wife until he'd sorted things with you." Justin paused. "I should tell you: before he went to see you? I told him to take you down."

Alice laughed – not condescendingly, just with her usual sly amusement. She was unsurprised; Alice knew people – knew him – too well. "I'm glad to hear that you did your job, DS Ripley."

"Yes, my job to investigate you for murder," he said, dryly.

She curved an eyebrow upwards. "Alleged murder."

Justin's laugh came out more strangled than he'd been able to control. "God. Alice, I'm trying to understand. I've been trying to understand." He didn't want to see her in jail, but each point of reasoning that Luther had placed was precise. Exact. True. Justin had felt a bone-deep certainty as well, the moment that he'd seen the bodies of the Morgans in his soulmate's childhood home.

Alice reached across and rested her cool hand across Justin's. "Justin," she said calmly. You know, her tone implied. You know me best. You know.

Justin turned his hand, palm upward, so their grip together was tight. "I could've taken myself off the case. Been a character witness against you."

Soulmates were usually the best witnesses in investigations. Although their emotions and attachments could cloud their judgement, their innate familiarity with each other normally served as a strong lead to reach key insights.     

But a soul-deep level of understanding wasn't tangible, hard evidence. Alice had accounted for that. Justin could have sat down with detectives n-times less capable than John Luther, and lead them step by step through what he knew made Alice tick, how her thinking worked, and lay bare her connections with her parents. Alice's motives may have seemed complicated and unfathomable, but not to her, and not to him. 

It wouldn't have been enough. Alice had made sure that there was no physical evidence. And as her soulmate, the fact that he could be both completely baffled by, yet understand entirely, what had led her to this point meant that his testimony would end up creating reasonable doubt in the jury.  

Alice had been waiting patiently while Justin reasoned through her plan. Justin sighed. "Looks like you thought of everything."

"Not quite everything," Alice replied. She reached for the bottle of wine and poured herself another glass. "John found the evidence today."

They'd decided as soulmates to live with a policy of complete transparency. Justin sometimes suspected that Alice had proposed this because she enjoyed giving him mild heart attacks.

"It was sentiment," Alice continued, her lips curling snidely around the last word. "But I suppose I shouldn't be too bitter, because sentiment was what caused him to return the evidence. It's in a very safe place now."

Justin moved his hand up to message his right temple. "Ok. So, what? He just walked away?"

"Yes."

"And it's over?"

Justin groaned at her coy smile. The case against her might indeed be over, but her interest in John wasn't.   

"Not yet. He's still in love with his wife, you know."

Ah, yes. He'd missed her abrupt changes in conversations.

"I figured."

"She's not his soulmate, though?"

Justin shook his head. It was almost unheard of for soulmates to also be romantically attracted to one another – with the level of awareness and understanding of each other, it would rather be like being in love with yourself. And there were far more narcissists in the world than there were soulmates who were also lovers.

Fortunately for both of them, he and Alice were hardly suited as romantic partners – helped along by his preference for broad-chested, dedicated men and her dismissiveness towards the idea of love itself. Justin loved her fiercely, though – she was his other half, and he had absolute faith in their connection.

He watched as Alice twisted her lips into a pout. "Pity. That would have been so interesting. John seems so obsessed with her."

"I'm not surprised, given who his soulmate is." Justin grinned at the way Alice shifted into rapt attention. "It's optional on our personnel files to list who our soulmate is, but he put it down. It's Mark North."

Alice laughed. "The lover? How deliciously complicated."    

"Yeah, it's complicated, so don't go messing about with him. Them." Justin looked at her pointedly.

"I adore that you still try to hold me to a moral standard," Alice smirked, and stood up to rinse her glass. She heard the tell-tale scrape of the chair behind her, as Justin moved to join her by the sink.

"I'm hoping to avoid seeing you in an interrogation room again," Justin said, and his shoulders tensed at the memory of Alice in that room, across from someone who had actually matched her elaborate mental maneuvers. Someone who could have made sure that they never saw each other again, except through a plastic visitor's windowpane.

He plucked the wineglass from her outstretched hand to dry it. They shared a look, and it was clear that Alice would continue to do whatever she pleased, and that Justin expected it and would begrudgingly accept that.

At the door, as Justin shrugged on his coat, Alice stepped closer to smooth his lapels down.

"So what do we think of John?"

It was funny and a bit twisted, Justin thought, that he and Alice could reach the same conclusion given that they held vastly opposite views and preferences. He couldn't help but beam at her, though, remembering the exhilaration and pure satisfaction that he'd felt, working just these few days with the man. Worth every minute that he'd spent outside all of the Personnel offices, chasing up his requests each week for months – and planning for even longer.

"He's everything's I knew he'd be. Brilliant."

He looked puzzled when he saw Alice grin. "Don't you think?"

"I've a hypothesis to research, before I make my conclusions," she replied, airily.

"Alice," Justin tried, warningly. "Does this have anything to do with who you went to see tonight?"

"Of course. But don't worry, I doubt that your path will cross with Henry Madsen's."

"Wha-?" Before Justin could reply, she'd closed the door behind him. Justin stared for a moment at the unassuming door to her flat, before he heaved a resigned sigh. He was sure he'd hear more about this sooner or later.  

---

IIa. Henry Madsen…

It was clear to Justin the days when Alice had dipped back into John's life, upsetting his boss' already unshaky equilibrium, and yet also animating him in ways that Justin didn't see nearly enough of.

So he wasn't surprised when his phone rang five minutes after John's eruption in the middle of the case with the illegal taxi driver. "One mo'," he mouthed to Ian, before ducking into the evidence room.

He stood there, and listened to Alice's quiet breathing, the slight hitches the only indications of her rage.  

"Had a good chat with the boss?" Justin asked.

"He woke up. That weak, insignificant man. And John thought that would affect us. So I solved it." Her voice shook, and Justin felt his chest ache at the sound of the strain in it. "I fixed it. For him!"

"Alice. Alice," Justin soothed. A feeling of dread was growing in him, though. The last time he'd seen Alice like this, her parents had been dead a month later.

"Do you love me, Justin?"

Justin pressed his forehead against the chill steel of the shelves, squeezing his eyes shut. "What kind of question is that?  You know I do."

He could hear Alice's sneer in her voice. "Then you're a fool too."

Justin merely hummed. "Okay, then. Doesn't change anything, though."

There was silence from her end, and Justin suspected a plan was forming in her mind.

"Alice?"

"I suppose it could be a useful pressure point," she mused. "Yes, I wouldn't have to push that hard, either…"

"Alice? Don't—"

"Bye."

She'd hung up. Justin stared, disoriented, at his phone. The door swung open, and one of the new recruits startled to see him there.

"Ah, sorry," Justin murmured, quickly exiting. He drew a deep breath. Focus on the case – that's all he could do right now. And hope that another body wouldn't turn up through whatever Alice was planning.

---

IIb. …& the Taxi Driver

Justin was bent over one of the sinks in the men's bathroom, watching as the blood swirled down with the water. The blood from Graham Shand's skull that he'd driven back to the office covered in. That he'd spent the past ten minutes scrubbing off his face.

He heard a knock, and looked up to see John, hunched over and leaning against the door frame.

"All right?"

"Yeah," Justin croaked out. Water beaded from his curls and dripped into the sink.

He watched John smile slightly. "Boss gave us the morning off tomorrow. Get some rest – you did good back there."

Justin twitched. Yeah, they'd put a stop to Shand, but was it justice? Could he have heard Linda coming up from behind them, moved faster, so Shand would still be alive and facing a life sentence, paying for all the lives he'd taken? Or was it justice to let Linda finally make her own peace, and erase the man who'd taken decades of her life?

"Hey." John stepped closer, as if sensing Justin's thoughts. It was John – he probably could. He clapped a steadying hand on Justin's shoulder.

"Got someone you can see tonight? Partner? Soulmate?"

Justin nodded.

John gave his shoulder a pat. "Good." He paused, as if searching for something more to say. Justin could tell that his thoughts had drifted beyond them, though. To Mark? Zoe?

"Good." John headed out, pausing only at the doorway to give Justin one last devastating grin before he'd left.   

Justin inhaled a sharp breath, and gripped the edges of the sink tightly. He could feel a rising panic again – not just from the memory of Linda's rage, or being coated in a murderer's blood – but from that look John had given him. Tired and worried, but confident in how Justin was – seemed – to be holding things together. A hint of softness, of – pride? – and a job well done. 

It was breathtaking.

It was too complicated. John was far too complicated right now, Justin had to firmly remind himself, every time that he felt that frisson of interest. There was John's strained relationship with Zoe and his own soulmate, and Mark's relationship with Zoe in play.

That seemed more important for John to sort out. No, Justin would go on, and keep his attraction to John firmly walled off. It wasn't like he expected anything to come from it. Besides, his life already had hit its maximum quota of complicated, thanks to Alice.

---

It's not that Alice was particularly affectionate, physically, towards him; it just wasn't something she did. But Justin appreciated that them being them, she'd tolerated it when he drooped against her on her sofa, tucking his head against her in a quasi-embrace, so he could feel each of her breaths ghost over his forehead.

When she'd first opened the door to him, he'd greeted her with: "I just saw a wife beat her husband to death. Cracked his skull right open."

Unfazed, she'd replied: "Poor puppy. I killed a man today too."

Justin had refused to hear more until he'd been able to lie down on her plush, barely used, sofa.

In those few minutes, though, Alice's mind had already moved far beyond the topic of Henry Madsen. His threat – and purpose – now null, she didn't even bother to address the situation.

"I want him," she'd announced instead.

"What?" Justin shifted away from her, so he could meet her eyes and see if she was serious. In all of the years that he'd known Alice, she'd never shown a romantic interest in another. Sexual, yes, but Justin had thought that she lacked the interest to make the necessary overtures to connect with others on that level. She'd even said so, after one of his early attempts to introduce some of his mates to her.

She rolled her eyes at his confusion.

"What d'you mean then?"

"I want to possess him." She closed her eyes, and moved to loop one of her arms in his, tugging him back against her, while her other hand reached out to the space where an imaginary John Luther stood.

"His mind, his very being." Simply stated, like she knew it was going to be a sure thing.

Her eyes flicked open to regard Justin. "You can have him for the other things. Romance. Sex."

"We are talking about John, right? John Luther? What makes you think that's what I want from him?" He could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks at the thought.  

"Please. I was there for David. I know how this works with you."

"Well David wasn't married and in love with that someone."

But most important, David hadn't understood Alice, and she had regarded him as nothing more than an irritating fly circling around her puppy.

"Give it time," Alice purred.

Justin squinted suspiciously at her. "What've you been doing? Wait, did you have something to do with all the stuff happening to Mark?"

Alice hummed. "I went to see him today. Let's just say, things are in motion."

Justin groaned. "Christ, Alice. You're not going to hurt him or Zoe, are you?"

"No more than I've already done, and no more than those three could do to each other." The delight in her voice was clear.

"Then, let them sort it out." Justin closed his eyes, exhaling against her.

Alice laughed dismissively.

Exasperated, Justin muttered: "They're always going to be a part of his life, Alice. You're going to have to accept that."

"Let's say I do," Alice replied, her voice shifting as she mused. "That doesn't preclude the possibility that Zoe will choose Mark, in the end. That would leave our dear DCI free. Then, it's just a matter of time and circumstance."

Justin closed his eyes, and allowed himself a moment of weakness to indulge in such hopes.  

"He'd come to me first," Alice teased. "You'd have to wait a while. Because, well, that’s John." She smirked. "Noble John. He'd wait for you to make DCI before he ever approached you."

Justin huffed a small laugh. "Sounds like him."

"Of course. Not to worry, though. Between the two of us, I'm sure that we'll have all possible outcomes covered."

Justin offered her his own cheeky grin to match her smirk.

"Dunno," he replied, just to be contrary. "Maybe I'd say 'sod the rules' and beg him to shag me on his desk, before we ever share an office."

Alice's laugh was sly. "How needy of you."

"Hey, don't judge."

"So that's the optimal outcome, although the execution needs work." Alice jabbed him in retaliation when Justin swatted her thigh for the comment.

"As for the least optimal…" She frowned. "Perhaps – he'll leave. If certain events come into play—"

"—it's a potential outcome," Justin acknowledged quietly. The worst. Justin had a clear delineation between Alice before and after meeting John. An Alice unconstrained by the force of John Luther's presence was already difficult to imagine – let alone, for Justin himself, to picture himself at work without the other man.  

Unsure of what else could be said, he waited, patient, as the tension in Alice was slowly converted to fuel her thoughts. She spoke:

"You wouldn't leave me, would you, Justin?"

She knew his answer, though, before he'd have to say it. Justin's loyalty was like gravity: constant.

Justin leaned against her, and let her massage her fingers into his curls. "Never."

---

0b. Alice Morgan

It's been years since Justin has been consciously aware of how his breathing and Alice's tend to sync up when they're together. Now, though, in the oppressive silence of the holding room, under John's dark scrutiny, Justin's very much aware of it.

"What's going on?" John asks, dangerous and quiet.

Justin meets John's gaze evenly. He doesn't want to give any sign for John to spin out any of the worse-case hypotheses already churning in his mind. That Justin's been aiding and abetting Alice's crimes? That they've been colluding, from the start, to upend John Luther's life? That Justin merely sat back, passive to Alice's decisions?

He and John both startle, slightly, when Alice smooths one of her hands against the left breast of Justin's uniform.

"You tell," she says, giving Justin control. She looks approving, though, when she lifts her hand and Justin starts unbuttoning his shirt, the chains of his handcuffs clinking together.

Justin turns to face John again, tugging down his shirt to expose his left collarbone. Alice does the same with her own blouse.

John's eyes widen at the sight of the twin markings splayed on their skin. Soulmarks.

"That's why," Justin explains, quietly. He twitches his collar back to cover the mark. "And. John. I promise, we never—"

"No. I get it." John's eyes shifted to look, exasperated, at Alice. "As if you'd let even your s-mate change your mind about anything you wanted to do."

Alice's eyes brightened with mischief. "Of course not," she replied primly. She seated herself on Justin's lap, and languidly draped an arm around his shoulder as she smirked, satisfied, at John.

Justin rolled his eyes, and tried for his best long-suffering tone. "Most of the time, I'm not even a sounding board. I have to connect the dots after you've done whatever you set out to do."

"It's what makes you a good detective," Alice laughs.

John echoes her. "No arguments here."

He looks at Justin, appraisingly. He's finally gotten the last pieces to fit together. Justin wonders what this changes between them all, now that John has to reconcile his understanding of Alice as Alice-with-Justin. Hopefully, Justin's more straightforward to re-evaluate, as the Justin who is Justin-with-Alice.   

And speaking of soulmates: "How's Mark?" Alice asks.

John presses his fingers against his temples. "Must still be answering questions," he sighs.

"He's been through a lot," he then murmurs, the guilt and grief thick in his voice.  

Alice's gaze flickers to Justin, and she mouths 'complicated.' Justin gives her a pointed look.

The door clicks open again, and Schenk appears.

John looks up. "Mark?"

"We won't be pressing any charges. He's waiting outside." Schenk's mouth thins as he turns to look at Alice.

"Ms. Morgan, given the stipulations for your confession, your custody has been arranged. We are ready to resume your questioning."

"What?" Justin jerks, trying to hold onto Alice's wrist as she stands.   

"Hush," Alice orders. Her composure is one of control, but Justin can see the slight hesitation as she steps towards the officers outside the room. Whatever her plan is, it's heavily dependent on the variables still in play, and Alice has yet to determine enough of them.

Justin turns to look at John, pleading for his help. Despite his clear frustration, John just shakes his head.

"Come visit me," Alice says, the slight tremor in her voice noticed only by the two men she cares about. Then she's swept away by officers.

"No! Alice!"

Justin's dash after her is stopped by two other officers, but despite their hold, he doesn't still until he hears the rough warning from John.

"Justin, mate, you gotta calm down."

He feels John curl a hand around his neck. He slumps, mind awash with panic and worry. Alice is leaving, he won't be able to see her, not nearly enough, for god knows how long.

John's hand presses firmly down on Justin's skin. A promise.

Justin grits his teeth. He'll have to go along for now. There isn't much he can do for Alice when everything is so in flux, and the damage from his own actions has yet to be determined.

The officers don't move away from him, but their grips loosen. Justin looks to Schenk, and sees him return an almost apologetic look.

"And Mr. Ripley. We still have much to discuss."

The image that Justin takes, that he revisits time and again over for the next two, long, soul-degrading months, is this last sight of John, standing tall, even though defeated and powerless to change anything. There's a precipice, and John's right on the edge of it.  

Justin hopes that he'll be all right. It's not looking too good for any of them. 

Chapter Text

I. Mark

Mark moved in with John a day after he found John's gun.

"It's not that I don't trust you," he'd said to John, while the man stared, bemused, as Mark went about clearing a space in the living room for an air mattress. "I do. I trust you to make the decisions that you think will help everyone."

When Mark paused to glare at him, John quickly shifted his gaze to the ceiling, and scratched at his beard.

John wondered how off he'd been, to have raised Mark's suspicions to the point that he'd actually gone looking for weapons in his flat.

"Right," he muttered. They'd shared a place in uni, so he knew there was no shifting Mark when he got this worked up. "Dinner, then?"

It should have been a weird feeling, having Mark around so much given that they'd been estranged for years. Instead, it was actually rather all right. Their years apart and fights over Zoe's happiness had chipped away at their bond, but it still existed, and they were both intelligent enough to suss out each other's state of mind.

So, John was half-prepared the next morning to see Mark waiting for him on the couch, watching as he stepped out from the bedroom. John held out his hands in a sign of peace.

"No gun. See?"

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Don't think I didn't hear you open your drawer to look for it."

"Nah. I just did that out of habit."  

"Habit," Mark repeated, faintly. "And you don't find that worrying?" His expression crumpled, and John winced at the sight. Forget everything that had gone wrong between them – it hurt to see his soulmate this distressed because of him.

"John," Mark continued, his voice harsh. "You could have died. And I would've lost my soulmate. I can't stop thinking about that. Between the two of us, your job's always put you more in danger, so I've probably thought about this a lot more often than you have. Of what my life would be like, our bond just – gone."

Both of them had clenched their fists, knuckles white in tension. They'd both seen what losing your soulmate did to someone. How it tore open a person's soul, left them untethered, desperate for even the faintest hints of security – to the point that most people changed, became markedly different.

Zoe had. She'd been righteous to a fault when John had met her, wildly passionate and unyielding. Her soulmate had shared her fire, but had the temperament to channel that instead to her work – quietly, incrementally affecting policies. It had been such a normal, safe job, and she'd been living a normal, safe life. Both couples recently married, she and her husband had met up regularly with Zoe and John.   

And then she'd died in a car accident. The day after the funeral, Zoe had resigned from her work as a barrister, and started her training in humanitarian law – her s-mate's passion. John knew that he couldn't blame their ruined marriage on her loss; it had been time, everything else, and John's own self and single-mindedness for his work. And when Mark had been drawn from John's side, into their domestic maelstrom, but had seemed so happy with Zoe, and had made her happy, John should've let them be.   

But he didn't have that capability to just let go; he was willing to admit that. And he could focus on his cases, immerse himself in his work, enough to forget the knowledge of the misery he was causing the two most important people in his life.  

Now, though, Zoe was gone, and all he had was the job. And, thankfully, Mark.

"Please," Mark finally sighed. "Try. That's all I ask. Just try. And talk to me, when it feels like you can't."

"Yeah," John murmured. "All right."

---

A few weeks later, John brought home the news that Schenk was heading up the new crime unit, Serious and Serial.

"Benny's coming on, too," John grinned, from across the chessboard, at Mark. "As soon as I get Ripley back, it'll be the perfect team."

"Have you seen him recently?"

"No. Why?"

"I wonder how he's doing. You said that he and Alice seemed close?"

John nodded, thinking back on the sight of the two of them – Justin still in cuffs, and Alice with her delicate, dangerous hands in his.

Mark paused, and John could tell that he was sorting out the best way to propose something that John wouldn't like. "You should invite him over."

John frowned, puzzled. "Ok. First, this is still my flat, so my guest choices. And second, you can't just invite him out of guilt, because you told Alice she could take the shot."

"That's not the only reason." Mark moved to capture John's bishop, and John cursed quietly.

"We can help him. I don't know how well he's adjusting to not having Alice around." He stared at John, and said, bluntly: "How many other soulmates does he know who've spent long periods of time apart?"

John sighed. "Look. I screwed things up for him, royally. They've demoted him all the way down to night jail. I just want to do everything above board, to make sure he'll be all right. I don't want a single whiff of favoritism, or off-work relations. Nothing."

"Fine," Mark relented. "But keep an eye out for him, please. For both your sakes." 

---

II. Alice & Justin

If Justin was hurt by the enforced separation from Alice, then he hid it very well. He'd been as friendly and diligent as before – if anything, John felt, after what they'd both been through, they held each other in higher regard, and with a stronger sense of trust and understanding.  

Likewise, sitting across from him, Alice was her same old self, even serving the current stint in the psychiatric hospital.   

"It's sweet," Alice smiled, when she'd displayed her bandaged arm to John. "I think he finally stopped worrying about what would happen to me, when I did this."

John grinned – amused, entertained, and impressed again, at her. Justin must've realized it too: getting transferred to this safe – albeit dull – place was precisely plotted by Alice, as the last step in her plan.

Well, second to last.

"New Mexico's pretty far," John commented, when Alice described the Large Array there. "I dunno how your s-mate's going to find the time to go with you."

"Who said I'd bring him? Or that he'd want to?" Alice looked delighted at John's confused look.

"A bit of separation might be good," she continued. "And it would give him some space to finally get close to his, ah, 'someone interesting.'"

"Oh? I didn't know he was seeing someone."

"Not yet. He's completely smitten, though, even if he isn't quite ready to admit it yet. But it wouldn't take much." Alice smiled, and she sounded like she was examining something foreign and far removed from her own interests.

"Just one, single event. A catalyst. Then he'd fall, madly, hopelessly. It's the only way he loves."

She leaned closer across the table. "I think he's making up for what I can't do," she stage-whispered.

They shared a grin at her theatrics – and the truth behind it.

"Well, whoever it is, he's a lucky man," John said. Under the force of Alice's scrutiny, he shifted slightly in his seat.

"He is," Alice replied, shortly. "A bit hopeless, though, from my experience."

"Ah, well." John rubbed at his beard. "No one's perfect."

Alice's smile was sharp and knowing.

---

"I went to see Alice today," John said, when he'd hung up his coat and made his way over to Justin's cubicle.  

"Oh. You must've made her month," Justin grinned.

John dipped his head slightly, easier to meet Justin's eyes. "You seen her recently?"

"Yeah," Justin replied, the of course broadcasted clearly in his tone. "I don't know – and I don't want to know – how she wrangled all those visiting hours, but I go a couple times a week."

"Planning to go tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Justin tilted his head, his questioning posture eerily like the one John had seen from Alice only half an hour ago. "Why? You want to go together, boss?"

John laughed. "Funny. Just wanted to make sure that you go."

Justin's expression shifted from amused to puzzled. "Sorry?"

John heard Gray call for them. "Just be there, Justin. It'll be good for both of you in the long run."  

It wasn't the most above-board plan he could come up with, John thought, but it would work. The best way to stem any suspicion that Justin had helped Alice escape, was for Justin to show up for their usual appointment – like he wasn't expecting his own s-mate to be gone.

---

John had finally managed to doze off from his makeshift bed on the ground – Jenny was in Mark's bed, and Mark was snoring on the couch. John had still been on high alert though – who knew the kind of danger that had ensnared Jenny – so the quiet buzzing from his phone was enough to rouse him.

He squinted at the caller ID, and couldn't help the smile that crossed his face.

"Justin," he answered.

"You mad bastard," Justin breathed out in response: awed, infuriated, grateful.

John's laugh sounded like a rumble, low and rough from sleep. Justin'd seen Alice's parting gift, then.

Justin's voice was raw with relief. "Thank you."

John smiled. "Yeah. Now get some sleep. Long day tomorrow."  

---

What John hadn't known, that Alice did: it wouldn't take much to convince Justin that John was worth every complication he'd have to face. A single, significant event, she'd told John, earlier that day. That's all it would take.   

John couldn't have known that this event had turned to be the sight of the half-eaten apple and key card that had passed from him to Alice, and seen by Justin when he'd arrived home. She'd left it for Justin, innocuously on the kitchen table, before she'd left for parts unknown.

It was an invitation, and as much encouragement as she'd ever be able to muster when it came to the subject of romance.

III. Justin

With Alice unerringly apt at avoiding capture, John had taken to watching how Justin was faring. At first, it had been out of concern – the man had been separated from his soulmate, and kidnapped a day later, held for days. He'd made sure to be there for Justin afterwards, but Justin had seemed determined to work past it, and had used the time that he usually spent visiting Alice for sessions with the precinct's counselors.

Now, John had to admit that he often watched Justin out of pure curiosity and interest. Seeing Justin perform with the same efficiency and focus made John wonder about the man's bond with Alice – he was right not to have pegged them as co-dependent. They drew strength from each other, but were clearly fine apart.

Never alone, though, John realized. In much the same way that his conscience seemed to sound more and more like Alice, John imagined that Alice was ingrained far deeper in Justin's very being, and he with her. 

One of the more amusing bits of evidence for that idea, John enjoyed seeing, was Justin's reaction to the suspicious glances and whispers of pity that he got from some colleagues in the department. Everyone knew that Alice was Justin's soulmate; Martin had required that Justin share that information on his personnel file, when he joined back with Serious and Serial.

John had thought that Justin would be irked by it all, but then he'd seen his face when he walked past some of their whispering colleagues. It was clear what being around Alice for an extended period of time did to a man: Justin had looked positively entertained by the attention and speculation.

---

The thing is, if Alice was like dark matter – influential in its absence – then Justin was like everything else: visible, tangible, readily there to interact and react. And sometimes the things that were visible blended in so well that changes were hard to notice, even to keen eyes like John's.

He'd realized it during one of the slow days in the department (he'd seen Benny napping at his desk an unusual amount of times during the past two weeks). Continuing his slough through casework that had piled up, John had decided to take a quick break. He glanced over at Justin as he stretched his arms and worked out the kinks in his neck.

The DS was recording notes on his own stack of paperwork, one hand busy writing and the other buried in his hair. John watched as Justin tugged absent-mindedly at his curls, before he swiveled slightly in his seat to check something on the computer.

I could fall in love with him, John thought. The realization unfurled gently in his mind.

Justin.

---

John held on to that warmth, that reality, through the ups and downs of each case. (Thank god, there hadn't been anything like the Millberry twins, not since Gray had transferred out, and he and Mark had seen Jenny settled and ready to move on.)

But he made no move to act on it. He'd promised to himself to treat Justin with the respect and honour he deserved: which meant working completely above-board, to help him become a DCI.

Once they were equals, he'd feel right to approach Justin, to give him the choice to take things further. For now, he'd have to be content with quickly-averted looks and professional roughhousing.

He evidently hadn't been that subtle, though. Justin had cornered him when they'd been in the evidence room, reviewing a cold case.

"Is something the matter, boss?"

John felt a twinge of guilt at Justin's diplomatic tone and choice of how he'd addressed him.

"'Course not," John said. The confused grin he tried on Justin didn't work; the other man pressed on.

"Only," Justin said, tone light and careful, like he could tell John was about to slam all of his defenses up. "I'm hoping you've been giving me the same looks that I've been giving you."

He stepped closer, a gleam in his eye that sparked John's memory of Alice's words about Justin. John had always been aware of the deep sort of reverence that Justin regarded him with, but he hadn't quite made the connection that it could also promise something more. And that Justin was willing now to act on it.   

"Justin." John's throat felt dry, as he watched Justin's hand hover near him, his fingertips bumping against his beard. "I'm your boss."

A cart squeaked past the door, and they both stepped apart.

Justin sighed. "I know. But. Please. At least hear me out," he said, his shoulders squared and gaze determined. "Once we're off shift."

John sighed, deeply. He was sure he'd regret this.

"Okay."

---

Hours later, when they'd both dawdled until they were the only two left in the office, Justin walked into John's office. He closed the door, without breaking eye contact with John.  

"See, I get where you're coming from," Justin said, his hands resting on his hips. "And I really appreciate how much you care about doing this properly. But this – us – it wouldn't ruin my chances. Not if we're professional, and I know we can be. And it's worth it. To me."  

John watched him; weighed his words. "We're talking about your future, mate."

"I know. And I want this to be a part of it too." Justin rounded the desk, to stand in front of John.

"I'll wait," he continued. "If that's something that truly matters to you. But if you're just doing this for me…" His hands came up to work at the knot in his tie. "I think you've earned the right to be a bit selfish, John."

John pushed himself off of the chair, forcing Justin to step back. He didn't move far, though, leaving their bodies a scant few centimetres apart. Justin's expression was open, body relaxed, under John's scrutiny.

"I don't think you should be encouraging bad habits like that," John finally allowed, and for a few moments, their smiles were equally bright, before John leaned further down and Justin rocked up, to meet his lips.

Kissing languidly, trading breaths, John gripped Justin's compact body tightly. He felt Justin shiver, heard him pant 'more' against his lips. John groaned at the sound.

Separating quickly, both men shrugged off their jackets, John's hands returning to press over Justin's torso, as the other man's fingers made quick work with his buttons. Shirt tossed to the couch, Justin leaned back against John's desk, hips cocked, elbows bent, and chest heaving.

Watching John work at his own shirt, appraisingly, Justin chuckled to himself.  

John lifted his shirt off, and leaned over to start with Justin's belt. "What?"

"Just remembered. I told Alice I'd do something like this," Justin panted, breath heavy against John's ear.

"Justin?" John paused.

"Yeah, boss?"

"I've got my hand down your pants. Why are you talking about Alice?"

Justin grinned. "Sorry." He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the hollow of John's neck. He continued to trail more down John's torso, before he slid down the back of the desk. On his knees, Justin flicked his eyes up to John's heavy gaze, the angle making it a most welcome sight.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," John agreed, and reached out to cup the back of Justin's head, fingers tangling in his curls.

IV. The job

John was keenly aware of how many times he'd thought about leaving his job – and how he'd been thinking of it increasingly often these past two years. Mark had persuaded him to set out his thoughts with the tried-and-true list method, so John could weigh all of the reasons why he loved the job against why he felt disgusted to the core by it.

They'd talked through multiple versions of his lists, arriving at the same conclusion each time.

Seeing DSU Stark's awful web of connections, strung with the faces of the people he'd loved – Zoe, Ian, Alice – had only further helped to crystallize what John knew he had to – and wanted to – do.

It was the first thing he told Justin, when the other man arrived back at his place, entire body thrumming with satisfaction about the long game he'd played with Stark and Gray. Justin listened, without recrimination or judgement. He later fell asleep with his arm resting solidly on John's hip, and John felt pure relief and awe for this man who had chosen him, of all people.

John couldn't seem to settle on when to leave, though. With each case, he kept telling himself: one more. One more, to wrap things up, and make sure that Justin was safe, and smarter, and recognized for his work. The job dragged at him, though, and he'd confessed as much to Justin one night, after they wrapped up another case – thankfully, not serial.

"I just don't know when I can stop, Justin. It's mad."

"Hey. We'll figure it out," Justin promised.

As it often did, 'we' involved Alice as well.

When the team had finished watching Marwood's message, John had seen Justin duck away, phone already pressed to his ear. He'd looked grim and determined when he returned, so John hadn't questioned the short detour that Justin was now taking them on.

They drove into a small carpark, and John couldn't suppress his chuff of laughter when he saw Alice approach his passenger side.

"Hello, boys," she greeted, as she slid into the backseats and smoothed a hand, fondly, down Justin's cheek. Her smile was excited, dangerous, as she fixed it on John. "Where shall we start?"

---

John was a bit wistful that he'd never worked with both Alice and Justin at the same time before. There was always the hint of sly malice that accompanied Alice, but her ideas were a strange, good complement to Justin's, ones that John was so familiar with. They met each other equally, pushing and yielding at the right critical decisions.

Between the three of them, it was quick work to profile Marwood, and deliberate on the best plan going forward. They'd been at odds with that: Alice had wanted to embarrass the man, Justin had wanted him guaranteed alive to face justice – "don't give me that look, Alice" –, and John had just wanted to avoid increasing the body count.

As his good intentions usually led, then, he'd been the one who ended up shot during their standoff with Marwood. It was a clean shot, fortunately, and the unit Martin had set up around the perimeter had immediately disarmed Marwood.

John spent the night slipping in and out of sleep, hazy from the painkillers the medics had discharged him with. The soft whispers from Justin and Alice's conversations filtered through his awareness, as they traded words like 'Berlin,' 'desk,' 'conference,' and 'widow' slipping through. He'd jerked, slightly, when Justin's incredulous "married?" came out louder than he'd intended, and John had felt two different hands smooth over his cheek and side, soothingly.

He slept.

---

They hadn't been able to celebrate as thoroughly as they would have liked, when Justin was promoted. Still, it had been a good, calm week for John to recuperate, and after he'd placed his notice to leave, he and Justin were saying goodbye. Alice had already left England, and would be waiting for John at their first stop of the tour that she was creating just for him.   

"Try not to storm off too often," Justin advised, his hand smoothing up and down John's side. "Things tend to get messy when she's the one chasing you."

"Gee," Luther replied dryly. "I hadn't noticed."

Justin flashed a dimpled, teasing grin, that John then relished kissing off.  

They separated, and John committed the sight of Justin's flushed face and bright eyes to memory. He'd miss him, these next few months.

"And are you going to stay, after you're back for Mark's wedding?" Justin asked. They'd both helped Mark through his mild, guilt-ridden breakdown when his girlfriend had first proposed two months earlier.

John nodded. "Yeah. Dunno where, but it'll be somewhere close to London." To you, the look in his eyes making it clear to Justin.

Because John accepted that he was selfish – he didn't want to separate Justin from the job he loved, but he also wanted Justin around as much as possible. And he also wanted to find a comfortable place to lay low and regroup after these trying years. He'd make sure to be close enough, so Justin wouldn't have to choose between seeing John and continuing his career.

It was a choice that John had made years ago: the job over Zoe. He was terrified that, if given the choice, Justin would do the same. 

Chapter Text

I. Midnight

Sometimes, when Justin had been sloughing through a case for sixteen hours, without any leads, he found himself wishing that he'd been brave and selfish enough to ask that one thing of John, after they'd wrapped up the Marwood case.

Let me come with you, he should have said. Traveling with John and Alice – they could have had the world. The universe, as Alice liked to dream.

Instead, Justin had stayed behind, because while Alice was helping John to a future, someone needed to take care of his legacy. If they'd both left, Martin would've had a hell of a time bringing two other detectives up to speed. And Justin had witnessed, first-hand, the lengths that John had went through to make sure that Justin reached this point, so he could do the work that John had always thought he wanted to do. A bright new DCI for a new age.

It wasn't that Justin loved his job any less, without John there. But things had changed – had been changing, these past few years – to such an extent that Justin felt off-kilter. Without Alice and John present as often in his life, he felt like there were two versions of himself he was trying to fuse back together. The Justin who'd grown up with the single-minded determination to serve and do good, and the Justin who'd survived Alice pushing the limits of their bond, and all of the experiences with John.

That missed opportunity with them itched at Justin, taunted him when he was at the office late at night, watching CCTV tapes and missing John's commentary. But then, his DS would send him a text, threatening him to go home and get some sleep. And he'd drive up to John's spartan yet homely cottage, and more or less stumble into John's bed at two o'clock in the morning. He'd whisper a 'sorry' when John grunted, sleepily, and drop off to sleep with the feel of John's lips pressed against his shoulder.

It was those nights, when Justin thought that maybe things could be all right like this.

II. Morning

For the first time, John was away when Justin arrived at the cottage for a blessed weekend free of cases. After a search through the place – they needed more firewood, and Justin was a bit worried about how many rabbits he'd seen darting into the bushes in the open yard –, he shrugged and started preparing breakfast. He'd left London ridiculously early, too excited to be up here with John. He was sure the man would turn up soon.  

He was outside, enjoying the breeze and clear air, when he heard John's heavy footfalls inside the cottage.

"Hey," John greeted, coming to stand next to him.

"Hey." Justin looked over and noticed the details of John's night: not much sleep, from the look of the fresh, dark circles under his eyes, but clearly eventful. He was standing taller. Excited. "What've you been up to?"

"There's a family, over in the village. The daughter often walks the dog along the bluffs, over there."

Justin studied the sight for a moment, remembering. "The mastiff?"

"Yeah. Well, it ran away yesterday afternoon, and the girl – Sophie – went looking for it. Big dog like that though – it could've gotten anywhere. Her parents came by last night, 'cos she still hadn't turned up home. So I went to help; it took a few hours, but we finally tracked her and that great beast down in one of the hide-away holes in the cliffs."

Justin exhaled in relief. "Good. Good."

John grinned, and clapped his hands to rub them together. "My first case in a while – feels good."

Justin laughed. "Pretty soon we'll see you back on the much-needed streets of London."  

John paused, and turned to look at him. It was one of the few times that gentle look had caused Justin to feel so irrationally irritated.  

"Justin. You know this. I'm not going back." Seeing Justin's frown, he hunched, and turned slightly away.

"What I saw with Alice… I haven't even told you half of the crazy things that we ran into abroad. There's an entire world's worth of cases and people in need."

"That's what you want to do?"

"Dunno. Maybe," John sighed. "I'm going over to the main branch to talk to the uniforms tomorrow. See what kind of cases they're dealing with here."

It was hardly likely that John would find the kind of challenging, thrilling cases that he thrived on. Still, if this was what John wanted… Justin rubbed at his neck, before sighing. "Yeah, okay."

"Hey," John said. In a few strides, he'd cupped Justin's face in his hands, to look directly at him. "Don't worry about me. I'll figure things out."

"I know," Justin replied, honest and certain. He didn't doubt that John would – he just wasn't sure where he would fit in once everything had settled for John.      

III. Afternoon

Since then, Justin's visits had felt stilted, the atmosphere fragile. It felt wrong to him, that they were both working, but on entirely different cases, with details that they couldn't, by protocol, share with each other. It bothered Justin, because he wanted to tell John – to share his life with him.  

It had put Justin in a foul mood, and when Alice had started blocking him on their protected IRC channel's chatroom, Justin knew he was going to have to make a decision soon.

Soon, he told himself firmly, before he turned his attention back to the case. One of his colleagues tapped his shoulder, handing over a phone.

"New York SVU. Munch," she whispered.

Senior Detective Munch's voice came on the line. "Hey, Ripley! Long time, no talk. Since, what, those Transatlantic diamond kidnappers?"

Justin winced at the memory of that disaster. "Yeah. Hi. How's it been?"

"Crazy as ever, you would not believe," Munch groaned. "Hey, did I hear it right when your details came in? You're a DCI now?"

"Yeah. For a few months now."

"Congrats, man. And this is one helluva case to get your head wrapped 'round. You heard about the Interpol agents coming in on this?"

Justin flipped open the thick dossier on his desk, as they settled in for a long chat.

A week later, Justin suspected that he was going crazy with paranoia. He kept irrationally seeing Alice's handiwork in the details the Interpol agents had gathered, and his mind kept turning to what John would do, would think, would decide.

God, he needed a nap. And to sort through the hole he'd dug himself into. But first, he owed them both to see this case through.

IV. Evening

"DCI Ripley, it was a pleasure." Philipp Eder shook hands with Justin, as the rest of his Interpol team finished packing their things.

"Likewise," Justin grinned.

"Well, actually…" Philipp leaned closer. "We're always looking for talent, and I'd be happy to put in a good word for you, if you want to come join the rest of us on the Continent. I'm sure most of the team would gladly vouch for you."

Justin flushed, stunned at the offer. "Wow, Philipp. That's really great of you. Thank you – really."

Philipp smiled, clapping a hand on Justin's shoulder. "Think about it. We have lots of juicy cases too – sometimes even without a body count."

The thought stayed in Justin's mind, as he finished signing off on the case files. He was still contemplating what to do about it all, when Martin rapped at this door.

"It astounds me," he remarked, "how quickly you DCIs master the art of brooding."

Justin laughed, and gestured to the chair across his desk. "God, I'm not that bad, am I?"

Martin smiled without responding, as he took a seat. He watched Justin over the rim of his glasses. "Thinking about Inspector Eder's offer, are you?"

Nothing got past Martin Schenk.

"Honestly? No," Justin replied. "But I was thinking about – this." He gestured in a sweep to the entire room.

Martin nodded, unsurprised.

"I know we're doing great things here, and the entire team's been amazing – we're helping people, and that's all I've wanted to do. And I'm beyond grateful that you took a chance with me; that you saw me through to now. But—"

"But—" Martin interrupted, quietly and firmly. "The grim reality is this: there will always be crime and cruelty. And I suspect, as detectives, we tend to sniff that out wherever we are. Case in point: John."

He looked pleased at Justin's surprise. "Come now, did you expect that the officers would let a man like John Luther loose on their cases, without checking his references? I'm not sure what unnerved them more: his physicality, or the way he was likely salivating over the chance to help."

They shared an amused smile at the thought.

"But to my original point, Justin. I know you, I know how you work. And whether you stay here and save lives, or do it elsewhere – know that you fought your best against every loss and for every piece of good that you did here. And that's valuable and you have more than earned my respect."

Martin paused. "But you are not the only respectable, intelligent, fighter out there. I can find – or indeed, mold – others."

Martin smiled to soften the blow, but it had landed. His boss left him to ponder this, and Justin did, pacing as his thoughts raced.

Then it came to him, clear and breathtakingly obvious. He'd never wanted to be John; he wanted to be with him. This – this job, this place, this sense of moral duty – it was a treasured inheritance from him, but it wasn't him.

Justin wanted to laugh at how stubborn and obtuse he'd been. He'd forgotten how free Alice had always pushed him to be, in order to understand and to keep up with her: to hold fast to the values that made up his own moral code. He'd created his conflict himself, by trying to live like the man he thought (wrongly) that John wanted him to be. He'd perhaps latched onto John as an idea even more than Alice had, all the while losing touch with John, the living and breathing man.  

He had a choice to make, and he finally felt right in making it.

Justin pulled out his personal phone, and logged into their chatroom to check if Alice was on. She was.

> Don't block me, he quickly typed. I wanted to ask about some of the cases the two of you saw.

> Why?

> Figured maybe I could help.

> Moonlighting now?

Justin paused, before he committed his message.

> No. Was considering making this a full-time sort of thing.

>>…It's a big world.

The cursor blinked steadily back at Justin, as he waited for Alice's response.

> And an even grander universe.

Justin smiled.

---

John was waiting for him outside the cottage, when Justin pulled up in the car. The broad grin on his face was a dead giveaway.

"Alice already told you my news," Justin groaned, as he walked up to John.

John shrugged, before he enveloped Justin in a tight hug. "It's what you wanted, isn't it? All three of us, on the same page."

"And you're okay with that?" Justin felt John press a kiss to his temple.

"You have to ask? Working with my partner, on the weirdest, probably most unhinged cases that his madcap s-mate digs up as she roams the world?" 

Justin had to close his eyes, heart clenching at the sound of John's relieved, elated voice. 

"In fact," John continued, as he ducked down to nose at the soft spot below Justin's ear, "I've already started thinking about how we go about this."

Justin pushed them slightly apart, so John could see his excitement. "And?"

John grinned. "And there's about twenty-three ways this could go wrong, that I can think of, just from what we know at this time. Who knows what else could come up."

"Ah." Justin shifted then to take John's right hand, pressing a light kiss on it, before he started to lead him back inside. "Well, why don't you tell me about them now, and we'll start from there?"

He found himself pinned against the doorframe and John's bulk. "Right now?" John whispered, as he took advantage of their position to roll his hips slowly against Justin.

"Maybe later," Justin amended, before he smirked and drew his tongue against John's waiting lips.    

---

END