Chapter Text
Alec sat alone on his bed. Nearly midnight, his internal clock supplied.
Alone, as always. Tired, beaten, quite normal these days.
His hands traced around coldness. Metal, clean, almost pristine from lack of use. But it wasn't. Just a pretty metal hiding dark secrets from a past long ago.
Would he dare?
It would be so easy to tip the barrel towards himself, to let himself go. To be done with it all.
He didn't want to take the risk of the surgery failing, of death on a cold sterile table, with strangers from a town he barely knew.
He could pull the trigger now. Bullets were already loaded, nestled comfortably in their chamber. Together, warm.
Where they belonged, where they mattered.
Carefully, he experimented, barrel under his chin, finger on the trigger.
“God, please, give me strength” He begged within.
Why? He wasn't sure. Did he really want to die? Did he really want to say goodbye? He didn't even finish Sandbrook.
But, maybe he didn't have to. Miller was a brilliant woman. Much stronger than he had ever been. She'd finish it, no she'd SOLVE it. She didn't need him to do that. She was capable all on her own.
He sighed, Dropping his hands onto his lap, fingers feeling the metal of the tool in his hands.
His phone buzzed, once, twice.
Three times, the name from the texts read, Miller. They blocked the image he had of Daisy. Her smile. Her youth. The childhood he missed, Because he was stupid, because he fucked up. Because he trusted his wife, His co-workers.
Could he really trust Miller to complete Sandbrook? His phone buzzed again.
A call this time.
He sighed placing the tool next to him and answered.
“Miller, what do you wa-”
“What the fuck hardy!? I've been calling for hours!” Miller screamed through the phone.
“Mille-” Hardy tried
“Why dont you answer your blo-”
Hardy tuned her out a bit, slight warmth growing in his stomach. The need for the tool beside him faded. Miller cared for him. She worried.
Despite his prickly nature despite being a “twat”, as shed put it, she stuck around. Worried for him cared for him.
His eyes burned, throat tight. He wanted someone here with him.
He opened his mouth, muscles tense, tongue dry, “ellie-” his voice barely a whisper. “Its- i-” he couldn't finish it.
Please Miller, don't leave me here alone. I can't be alone.
“Are you home? Im coming over” ellie said voice stern.
He could hear the rustling of fabric, the tap of her shoes.
But wee Fred, Tom. She was leaving them for him.
Pathetic. Stupid. Childish. Taking a mother from her children.
“dont ellie” he wanted to say. But she already hung up. Already determined to come to his aid. He let out a loud sigh, maybe a groan and slumped. Arm resting between his legs, heart aching slightly.
Maybe, he could save her the grief, the struggle of rallying him. Of pushing him to keep living.
He didn't have much to care for other than her, wee Fred. Maybe that stray cat he's been feeding.
His eyes were blank hollows empty staring forward as his mind wandered back to the item next to him. Heavy, cold, calling to him.
He was a burden, nothing but a distraction. Ellie had her own issues. Her own dramas. She didn't need him. She didn't need to handle sandbrook. He'd take those case files to the grave with him. He'd close the case.
Ricky already threatened his need to open it. Tess told him to let go. Lee and Claire clearly wanted to be together again despite the past.
Hardy was just blindly reaching for a purpose now. A goal, something to do while he waited for his heart to fail.
The heavy metal found its way back in his hand.
It'd take 15 minutes for ellie to get to his shit shack. 15 minutes to pull a trigger. 1 second for the result.
He flicked the safety off, and raised the tool, pressing it against his chin.
He could do it. He could end it all in a heart beat.
He just wanted it all to stop hurting.
His finger tightened, ready, calm.
A knock, several knocks, stopped Hardy in his tracks. He flicked the safety back in place, placed the object down and stood, joints protesting.
Slowly he made his way to the door,
He could see her orange jacket, even through the glare of lighting within his home.
He opened the door and stared “what?”
What was Ellie seeing, why was she just staring.
“You look terrible sir”
Hardy let out a choked noise. Maybe it was a laugh.
“Can I come in? Put on some tea?”
Hardy didn't say no, simply stepping to the side.
Warmth spread through him once again. She was here. She came. Despite his protest, despite everything, she came back.
Ellie was rambling from his small kitchen, eyeing him as she put the kettle on. Observing, watching his behaviour, his every movement. Like a proper detective.
He slumped down onto the sofa tuning out Ellie's constant bickering, it was familiar, comfortable. He knew she was talking for the sake of talking. To keep sound going, to keep him occupied. He appreciated it greatly.
But slowly, His mind wandered back to his bed, back to that object on his bed. Calling once more.
Maybe after Ellie left?
Could he convince her he was okay? Could he get a hug?
“Hey, miller” his voice was quiet
Ellie stopped mid ramble, something about Fred's favourite fruit.
“Thanks for coming. Even if i was an arse about it”
Ellie stared, silent. “Why are you thanking me”
“Can I not thank you?” He asked voice raised
Ellie seemed to ponder his words, her eyes trailing his face. “Not you. You don't thank.” She moved closer, hand taking his, removing the cup from them and setting it down “alec, please, tell me what's wrong”
Alec couldn't say, he didn't want to say. But, should he? Could she save him?
“Sorry, I'm just tired,” Hardy said.
Ellie didn't relax. She clearly didn't trust his words. She knew he was more than tired.
“Hardy, please talk to me.”
He shook his head. Eyes burning, throat tightening. He was fighting himself. Fighting to be with ellie in this moment, fighting to end it all.
Which did he want more?
“I want to help” she said softly
She wanted to Help. He wanted a hug.
Maybe just this once.
“Could I… have a hug?” Hardy asked voice trembling.
Ellie made a sound, a sad one. She shuffled closer, hesitant at first, but hugging him tightly.
It was warm, comforting, reminding him of his mother when he was young. Tess didn't hug often. His father never did. Only his mother.
But part of his mind could sense ellie discomfort and confusion. This wasn't what they did. This wasn't a normal request.
Hardy wasn't meant to ask for hugs. He was meant to be alone.
This was wrong.
He broke the hug with an apology for being too forward, and Miller, Ellie, the wonderful friend she was. Brushed it off. Told him it was fine.
In silence they finished their tea, Ellie standing to collect his mug and wash it.
While Hardy sat, eyes drifted to his room. To the bed. To the gun on the mattress
He needed an escape. He got his hug and it felt like a breach of trust.
A comfort that was meant to be crossed.
He fucked up.
He made his way into his room, and waited. The water in the kitchen turning on filling the house with noise, and when the sound reached its peak, he bolted.
Long legs carrying him over to the cliffs.
Moving faster than ever before.
Moving with purpose, with hope in his chest.
An almost giddy feeling bubbled in his throat.
It'd be over soon.
He stopped at the cliffs edge, staring out at the water. The never ending sky he hated so much was pitch black. A void, empty.
He pressed the weapon to his chin once more, and took a deep breath in. He was ready.
Finger tightening on the trigger, wind blowing in his ears, he let out a final breath and squeezed.