Chapter Text
Alec Hardy would have never thought that he’d stay in Broadchurch for good.
He hated the damned place. The smiley people, those tall, steep cliffs that scared the shit out of him when he was a kid, the never-ending sky, and how each day seems to be the same as the latter. It was the complete opposite of when he was in Santa Mercia. It was busy and lively, and the sky is often murky (which is probably from the smoke and pollution, but Alec doesn’t want to dwell on that).
Also, you won’t run into someone you know at every corner, unlike here in Broadchurch.
(He’d sometimes run into Beth whenever she’s out for her daily runs or when she comes to school for the parent-teacher conferences for Chloe. They’d exchange their pleasantries, but there’s a certain awkward, perturbing tension between them. Of course it’d be like that, after all that happened during the case. Alec still feels guilty and at fault for being sloppy and irresponsible. If only he did better, he would have imprisoned Joe and given the Latimer family the justice that they needed.
He can still see and sense the looks Mark would give him, frustrated and grieving.
That’s what he used to see in Cate’s eyes.)
Alec’s grown to tolerate this place, though. It provided him the second chance that he needed, especially with Daisy. He can never reclaim years of missing every single milestone from when she started to change to what she is today. All he can do is try to spend as much time as possible with her.
“Good morning,” Daisy greeted when she emerged from her bedroom, her school bag slung over her shoulder.
“Mornin’, darlin’. I made you pancakes.” Alec motioned his mug towards the table before taking a sip of his tea. He watches as Daisy takes a seat at the table and peers over the plate of pancakes—slightly burnt pancakes with amusement. Alec felt ashamed.
Alec’s been trying all morning to cook the right pancake for Daisy. The first two batches were a complete failure; he had burned them so badly that they matched the color of the pan he’s using. He tried scrubbing it off, but it was too late and he had no choice but to throw the pan out. And then for the third batch, he really had his eyes on it the entire time. He even used his phone’s timer for each side, two minutes until flipping it.
He googled, ‘How many minutes on each side of a pancake?’ earlier. The first result is from a website called ‘Food Network’ that said a pancake should be cooked for two minutes ‘until bubbles break on the surface of the pancake and the undersides are golden brown,’ and he did that. Though Alec thought that the other side would also be two minutes, he didn’t read it all the way through that said ‘only for one minute.’
It was late when he realized that.
“Wow. What’s the occasion? Why did you cook me pancakes this morning?”
“Nothin’ at all. I just wanted to cook,” Alec replied nonchalantly. Daisy looks skeptical, but she nods and takes a bite of the pancake. Alec watched her expectantly. When Daisy hums under her breath with a grin breaking on her lips, Alec feels instant relief.
“It’s burnt, but it tastes good.” She gives a thumbs-up. Alec smiled, and his face lit up.
“I still got it, yeah?” He asks with a chuckle.
Daisy rolls her eyes. “When did you ever cook for me before?”
Alec gasps like she’s wronged him.
“When you were a little you used to really like that sweet and sour fish dish after we visited your grandma. You bugged me for a whole day to ask her to make it again and I was so fed up—and I didn’t want to trouble your grandmother—that I said that I’ll make the dish for you. I cooked that for dinner, Daiz. Do you want some evidence? Your mum has a picture of you, mouth covered with sauce, tucked in one of our photo albums,” Alec states like he’s presenting some evidence before a criminal.
Daisy gives him a wry look. “Okay, Dad. I get it. I get it. You cooked for me before.” she says in defeat.
“You’re portraying me like I was such a bad dad that didn’t give you any good memories at all,” Alec states, scoffing. Daisy gives him a ‘Do you really want to go there?’ look that made Alec tight-lipped.
"...I’ll go and take a shower." Alec puts his used mug in the sink and heads to the bathroom. Daisy chuckled to herself, taking that as a small victory.
She takes a quick pic of the pancakes her dad made and sends it to Chloe, who responds, ‘Didn’t know DI Hardy was such a great chef. Better than Gordon Ramsay. 😆’ that Daisy laughed at.
The weather has gotten colder and damper, the pavement is moist with rainwater, and the clouds are almost covering the sky. Alec drove Daisy to her school in silence while soft music played from the radio.
Alec has always liked the rainy season.
When he was nine, he’d curl up under his duvet and read books with a mug of hot chocolate that his mum would make him. She would mix up this special cocoa (special in a way that he thought was only made for him, but now he’s pretty sure it’s just Ovaltine) and put three big marshmallows in it. Also, the loud pitter-patter on the roof would usually wash out any noises that came from outside his bedroom: bottle smashing, shouts, and sometimes weeping that he’d try his best to ignore, or if he didn’t, he’d be the one who got it next.
After going through the traffic, they reached Daisy’s school. It had begun to drizzle a couple of minutes ago, the students pouring into the school gates with their raincoats and umbrellas.
“Don’t pick me up later. I have a sleepover with Chloe,” Daisy says while gathering her stuff. Alec knitted his brows together.
“You have a sleepover with her?” he asks. Daisy paused and looked at him, mirroring his expression.
“Yes…? I told you about this yesterday. Have you forgotten to check your texts again?” she questions.
Alec takes his phone out from his pocket and checks his inbox. The fact that Daisy's contact is still highlighted shows that he didn’t check it at all. (Give him some slack. He was busy yesterday.)
‘dad, chlo and i are gonna have a sleepover at her house. beth already knows. can i go? 🙏’
“Why didn’t you ask me again when I didn’t reply?” Alec asked, glancing back at her. Daisy gave a shrug.
“You were at work yesterday and you came home pretty late last night. I honestly just remembered it now too,” she continues, “So can I go? Please? We’re gonna work on my UCAS tonight.”
Alec raises an eyebrow, suspicious. “And you can’t do it in our house because…?”
Daisy gives him a look and Alec scowls. It’s one of her pleading looks. It’s all in the eyes. He sighs deeply, feeling like all of his resolve disappeared in an instant.
“Yes. Fine—you’re sure Beth knows? I’ll text her to make sure,” he says in a firm yet gentle way. Daisy gives a nod without thinking.
“Yup. You can text her if you want to,” she smiled as she peered out the window.
Alec saw how her whole face beamed, smiling from ear to ear when she spotted someone in the distance. He crouches down to look as well; it’s Chloe waving from the opposite street. He raises an eyebrow at this.
“I’ll get going, Dad! I’ll see you tomorrow!” she exclaims and hastily gives him a kiss on his cheek, opening the door. Alec takes the umbrella from the car’s compartment and gives it to her.
“Text me when you’re there.”
“As if you’ll read it?” Daisy asks teasingly.
Alec laughs. “Go.”
Daisy smiles at him and goes out of the car, opening the umbrella, and closes the door lightly before walking to where Chloe is. Alec reaches over to properly close it and looks at Daisy and Chloe, who are already excitedly talking to each other as they head to school with their arms linked. Their faces are beaming. That’s the first time Alec saw Daisy that happy with a friend. He shrugs it off for now and drives down to the station.
When he entered their office, uniforms welcomed him, and his only response was a nod or a faint smile. For them, this is the most that they’ll get from Alec. He would typically huff or grunt to shut off any form of small talk and walk past them. It was one of the many reasons why he earned the ‘shitface’ title.
Alec just doesn’t get the appeal of someone being so chippy and happy in the morning. It’s the morning. He prefers the night better. He works more efficiently and he doesn’t get to deal with blaring noises that would instantly ruin his mood.
He also hates people that like the mornings.
“Good morning, Hardy!”
Well, maybe not all people.
Alec went into his office with Ellie trailing behind him, hands full with a bunch of paperwork that he has to fill out for the rest of the day. This is always the aftermath of a finished case. Paperwork. Never-ending paperwork.
“Mornin’, Miller. Took your morning coffee, I believe?” Ellie shook her head, placing down the files on his desk. Alec mutters his thanks as he takes a seat.
“Actually, I haven’t. I had to deal with getting Fred ready for school and Tom’s project that’s due today. I swear that little shit doesn’t care if I was tired from work. He went into my room and asked for materials at 11pm!” Ellie ranted, her face etched with a deep frown. Alec couldn’t help but snort in mirth.
“Daiz also used to be like that when she was little. Tess would scold her, but we’d both go through the entire town just to get the materials she needed,” he tells her, which made Ellie chuckle. “But was there an open shop last night, though?”
“What makes you think that I went out at 11pm just to scour the entire town for his bloody project? I said, "Deal with it," and went to bed. I woke up earlier to Tom desperately trying to piece together some stuff that he found in our shed. That’s when I helped.”
Alec hums thoughtfully. “What a great parent you are, Miller,” he sarcastically drawls.
Ellie playfully rolled her eyes. “We should get some drinks. And some bread. I need some meal before I continue on with this day,” she says exasperatedly.
Alec shakes his head and slips on his glasses. He starts going through the papers in the binder.
“Nah. I already ate earlier. Pancakes.”
Ellie raised both of her eyebrows, surprised. “Pancakes? Daisy cooked?”
“No. Me.”
That’s even more surprising.
“Wow,” Ellie laughed. “Why would you cook for Daisy?”
Alec sets down the binder, stoic. “Why is everyone asking me that? Can’t I do something good for my daughter?” he scoffs. “I just did. I wanted to do something nice for her and not let her eat toasted bread and tea like what I usually do for her.”
Ellie continues laughing and raises both of her hands in defeat.
“Okay. Don’t be all defensive. I was just asking,” she said and Alec gave a scowl.
“Out.” He waves his hand towards the door. Ellie only rolled her eyes. She’s already used to Alec being like this.
“You don’t want anything at all?”
“No. Go on,” he replied and started with his work for the day.
“Have fun,” Ellie dryly says.
“I will,” Alec states without looking up at all. “Close the door when you leave.”
The moon illuminates the horizon, the stars blinking in a distance, and the sky is painted in a mixture of black and blue. The breeze has gotten more crisp that Alec hunches down and wraps his coat around him further to seek some warmth. Though the waves are calm as they reach the shore and gently retreat back to where they came from.
Even though Alec despises the water and the sand, he can't help but return to that spot beneath the cliffs. There’s a certain comfort to it, despite the unpleasant feeling that’s always churning in his guts.
He still remembers the first time he sat on this beach, his arms encircling his legs and his eyes fixed on the horizon. The argument started over something trivial. While his father wanted to stay and drink at the campsite where they were staying, his mother wanted to go down the beach. Then his mom shouted. Then his dad. The disagreement resulted in a full-on fight about the things that didn’t even matter about their vacation.
‘You always want to do what you want! You’re putting most of our money into feeding your alcoholism!’ ‘It’s my money! Don’t fuckin’ tell me how and what I’ll do with it!’
That’s what Alec heard last after he sneaked out quietly and ran away.
Alec didn’t know where he was going. He doesn’t know the place at all. Everything around him was a blur, and he didn't give a damn about who was looking in his direction. He kept on running until his feet brought him to the beach of all places. He walked until he was alone and sat down under the cliffs. He knew that he’d be in trouble with his dad. The sting of leather he has become accustomed to. And yet he stayed.
He constantly went back to that place their entire vacation whenever things got heated between his parents until their very last day in Broadchurch.
He really didn’t think he’d be back in this place and in spite of that, here he is. Coming back like a boomerang.
It’s familiar; it weirdly coaxes him to stay.
Alec thought he would have some time to himself to think, to be at peace, even for a brief moment, but then he noticed a figure sitting in his spot. He furrows his brows, trying to figure out who it might be.
He kept on walking until he finally got a good sight of the person.
It’s a man; he’s wearing a suit, yet Alec knows that it’s more carefully handpicked by him (unlike Alec). He’s hunched, arms wrapped around his knees, eyes distant. A form that Alec knows all too well.
He should turn around and walk away, although there’s something in the back of his mind that tells him to approach the man. To check if he’s alright; the empathetic side of Alec is kicking in.
And so he continues to walk until he’s near the man. Alec pauses and suddenly, he doesn’t know what to say or ask at all. Should he really talk to him? Where would he even start? Oh, Christ. Am I really panicking over what to say to a stranger? (Ofcourse you are, Alec).
Before Alec could even think rationally, his mouth moved.
“You’re in my spot.”
What was that?
Even he was surprised with his own words. That’s too blunt, too rude, even for him. Way to go, Hardy!
The man looks up and Alec finally sees his face. There are tear lines on his cheeks, his eyes puffy behind his glasses. He seems perplexed and ashamed. Mostly because someone had witnessed him in this state.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man mutters. He was about to get on his feet when Alec stopped him, eyes wide.
“No—I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You can sit there,” he said in a hurry, awkward. The man stares at him and Alec can’t read him at all.
Without any word, the man went back to sitting and looked away from Alec. Alec stood uncomfortably, his arms flailing uselessly at his sides, his lips pressed together. He’s contemplating whether to go home or stay and…what? Talk to this man?
It’s obvious that he’s troubled and Alec is not that much of a bastard to just leave him like this.
With a heavy sigh, Alec slowly sits down beside the man and keeps a safe distance between them. He mirrors his form and gazes out at the sea.
Silence.
The sloshing of water in the sea, the waves hitting the shore, and a few seagulls squawking in the distance.
Pleasant and peaceful.
"This is my first time going down here like…this." Alec flinches a little when the man speaks but he composes himself and looks at him. The man kept his eyes on the ocean.
“I don’t even know how I got here. Where I parked my car or how much time has passed. I just kept on walking until I stopped and collapsed here,” he quietly stated. Alec studies him; the man looks detached, empty.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” Alec decides to ask, but the man didn’t answer him at all.
What did he expect?
Alec puffs out his breath. “I come here every now and then,” he says instead and the man finally looks in his direction. Alec felt the need to continue, “Usually when I feel guilt…or whenever I want to be alone,” he mutters and sighs. “I absolutely hate it here. Yet I keep on coming back.”
He doesn’t know why he’s saying all of this right now, but he knows what the man needs is some distraction.
A beat.
“You hate the beach?” The man asks wryly. From all that Alec said, that’s what he focused on.
At least his distraction worked?
Alec nods. “I do. Hate how the sand sticks to my clothes, the salty breeze…”
“‘I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.’” The man quotes rather dramatically. Alec gives him a quizzical look.
The man smiled sheepishly. “Star Wars… You know… Anakin? Told that to Padme... You don’t—?” he awkwardly explained. When Alec didn’t react at all, he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I tend to say unrelated stuff whenever I feel uncomfortable.”
Alec's face softens and a small smile appears on his lips.
“No. It’s fine,” he reassures, and the man finally smiles, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“So why are you here?” The man asks.
Alec shrugs. “I don’t know either. It’s been a while since I last came here. Just had the urge,” he replied truthfully. Alec contemplated at first before asking again, “And why are you here?”
The man hesitates for a moment; the walls came back. But he looks a bit more comfortable with Alec.
“Well, today is…” He trails off and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Alec could tell he’s nervous. “Something happened on this day that I can’t let go of, even if it happened a long time ago. You could say that I’m here out of guilt—like what you said.”
Upon gazing into his eyes, Alec understood what he was talking about. He is already familiar with it, having seen many grieving people in his line of work.
“Were you two close?” he asks. The man is taken aback when Alec asks that; nonetheless, he answers.
“Yes. Really close. That’s why it hurts more whenever I think about this person. I feel like I completely… let her down. That everything that happened is because of me and that it should have been me instead of her.” He’s choking up, tears welling up in his eyes. He looks away from Alec. “I just don’t get why I had to be here and she’s taken instead of me.”
Alec’s expression softens. He doesn’t know what to say and he’s afraid if he says anything, he’ll tell him something disheartening or rude. Instead, he stays quiet while listening.
“I really did everything that I could to save her. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. If only I had more time…” The man whispers, the tears escaping his eyes without his own accord. He sniffs and quickly wipes it, realizing what he’s doing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry if I—”
“It’s fine. Don’t apologize,” Alec mutters, his hand aching to reach out and perhaps pat his shoulder. Offer some comfort. But he didn’t touch. He keeps his hand to himself. He could only offer silence.
They’re quiet for a while, neither of them speaking.
The man takes a deep, shaky breath and sighs; he appears to feel a little lighter than earlier. He glances back at Alec and smiles slightly.
“Thank you. Really. So much for listening. It helped,” he said earnestly. Alec felt like warmth crept up to his chest. He's never heard someone be so sincere with him, as if he did something right.
It was a nice feeling.
“No problem. What’s your name?”
“Theo. You?”
“Alec.”