I never knew there were so many different ways to say good-bye

It wasn't that James didn't drink, and drink a fair bit, but he never got so drunk that he was getting anxious glares from the barman. Nor to the point he was sat in a dimly lit corner of a pub pouring his heart out to a young woman he'd never met before in his life. It was meant to be a blind date but had wound up more like a therapy session.

James had no idea what triggered it. It wasn't as if he hadn't spent the past seven years carrying these intensely compromising feelings around, and it hadn't been as if he'd envisioned a happy ever after for himself. The fact was, realistically James knew he was most likely as not going to follow in the infamous Morse's footsteps. - And there was something sweetly poetic about that.

However, since the moment Robert Lewis had finally decided to settle down with his long-term friend and associate, Dr Laura Hobson, James has been pretty bloody miserable. It was made harder by the fact that Lewis seemed completely oblivious to his feelings, leading to Lewis continuously inviting him around to the new couple's happy home for dinner almost every weekend, and sometimes during the week.

It was why he'd gone to Spain. Attempting to avoid their domestic bliss and the pain it inflicted. As far as Lewis and the good doctor knew however, James was taking a holiday at the Chief Supers insistence to decide whether he really wanted to leave the force.

He truly had intended to go, visit the galleries and cathedrals, however he'd only gotten as far as Madrid before turning back. The distance only making his heart grow fonder and desperate to be close, even if he never actually spoke or saw Lewis again. Knowing they were in the same town was enough to ease his sorrows. – While at the same time creating more.

He'd been back in England a fortnight, and back in Oxford a week, and not once in all that time had he contacted Lewis, choosing instead to hit the internet in a desperate attempt to move on. Foolishly convincing himself that if he found someone, anyone, then he could face Lewis again.

His date for the night was named Penelope, a graduate student at the university majoring in psychology. That was where it all went wrong, because after a pleasant meal and light conversation she'd started asking questions. Questions that had led him to drink, which had then led to him spilling all the beans of his lonely childhood, his failed relationships, his conflicted sexual and religious beliefs, and finally, his sad and pathetic crush on his boss. - No, correction, ex-boss.

"I wonder a lot what my life would have been without him." James sighed into his drink. "What path I may have taken." He looked up, meeting Penelope's sympathetic brown eyes. "I was so close to quitting when we met. This close." He held up his shaky hand, the thumb and forefinger only inches apart. "I was tired of all the snide comments, the whispers behind my back. If I'd known the ridicule and lack of trust the graduate scheme would send my way, I'd have never applied." He gulped at his pint.

"Then imagine all those criminals you wouldn't have put away." Penelope replied softly. "All those people you wouldn't have helped."

James sighed, nodded. "I know, and I don't think I would have done half as much good without him. I've seen how other inspectors treat their sergeants. I would have been little more than someone elses errand boy. Robbie never treated me like that."

James threw back the last of his drink and twisted in his seat to wave the glass at the bar. When the barmen turned a blind eye he reluctantly stumbled to his feet and unsteadily made his way over, loudly demanding another.

"I think you've had more than enough, don't you sergeant?"

"Actually, no I do not." He slurred shakily.

"James, I think perhaps we should..." Penelope tried to break in, but James ignored her, his gaze landing on a familiar figure in the doorway.

"Inspector." the barman incline his head in creating.

"Not an inspector anymore Joe." Robbie Lewis sighed, his gaze fixed on James.

"Right." Joe nodded. "Look, can you...?" He jerked his head in James's direction.

James watched as Robbie made his way towards him in what seemed to his drink addled brain to be a slow sensual waltz, stirring up his blood and making his heart beat faster.

"You're back." Robbie stated, coming to a stop directly in front of him.

James couldn't find his voice, instead looking at the older man with desperate wide eyes. He heard his companion introduce herself but barely registered the rest of their conversation.

"Come on Lad, let's get you home, aye?"

James felt himself being manhandled out of the busy small pub and through the night air. He felt the cool breeze on his hot face and Robbie's arm around his waist. Turning his head, he watched Robbie fumble with the car door. Once it was open the man turned him, pushing him gently towards the seat.

As James turned his body, Robbie's hand still at his waist, he found himself face to face with his boss. Ex-boss. Friend. Love of his life. Any life. "Do you think if we'd met in another time, another life, that you'd have chosen me?" He stuttered, eyes glittering around Robbie's face. "Could you have? If I hadn't been your sergeant?"

Robbie said nothing for a long while, simply staring at him with wide confused eyes.

Suddenly James shook his head vigorously. "No, of course not." He sighed, turning to fumble his way into the car, the metal vibrating behind him as the door was closed.

There was a long silence, the car shaking as Robbie settled behind the steering wheel. James let his head rest warily against the back of the seat, his eyes shut, the car rumbling to life to begin its long slow progress through the streets of Oxford. James could feel sleep crawling closer and tried to fight it off as much as his drunken brain would allow.

He faintly heard what he thought was Lewis asking him a question, but it was so muffled by drowsiness that Lewis had to repeat it over and again before even half his brain caught on to it. It was accompanied by a rough shake of his shoulder and James forced his eyes open, turning his head against the seat.

"Why didn't you tell me you were back?"

James' focus was off. He stared at Lewis for a long few seconds, the man looking back at him. He was handsome, James sighed. In that rugged, working man kind of way. He'd seen men like Robbie Lewis before, working the grounds of Craevcore as a boy, then later while he was studying at the seminary. He couldn't pin down when men like Lewis first attracted his attention in that particular way, mostly because he'd fought that secret part of himself, disgusted and ashamed of it for so long. That was until Will came to him and he'd given the worst, most condescending, blind advice possible. Which had ultimately lead to the death of his best friend. So, scared of who he was, he punished another.

"Well?" Lewis demanded, and his tone sounded angry to James's ears.

He'd never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man twice his age. Neither had he imagined he'd be one of those poetic lost souls who found love only to discover the object of their affection was already spoken for. - Oh, and of course Lewis was straight.

But maybe in another lifetime. In another reality. Somewhere out there in the Lord's magnificent universe, there was another James who wasn't left to watch from the side-lines. Who was able to love openly and be loved in return. Loved by Robbie Lewis.

If there was, James hoped they were happy together.

"James?"

He turned at the concerned call of his name. Robbie sat watching him, brows knitted and surrounded by some glowing white aurar, like an angel come to save him from his misdeeds. It grew brighter and James closed his eyes, basking in Robbie Lewis's glorious soul.

_(*-*)_

The ringing in his ears was almost painful, but nothing compared to the pain shooting through his spine. Forcing his eyes open, he saw red. Everything was red. There was an all too familiar scene of blood hanging in the air and Robbie feared it was coming from him. Blinking it away, he tried to focus on his surroundings.

He was still in the car, that was obvious by the seat belt currently crushing his ribs. There was a breeze sweeping through where the windscreen had been. It took him a few seconds for his mind to clear, and the past few minutes to come back to him.

With an agonising clarity Robbie remember he hadn't been alone. He forced himself to stay calm, which was bloody difficult when the fear of loss was carving up his insides. He restrained himself from snapping his head around to check the passenger seat, and instead moved it slow and cautiously. "James?" He choked out. "Hey, Jim, Lad? Talk to me? Are you okay?"

There was no reply. He tried to move his left arm, was trying to reach out and check, but a blinding pain shot up from his wrist and he cried out.

Once the pain had eased, Robbie took a deep breath and held it. Listening intently in hopes of hearing even the smallest sound from James. There was nothing and he felt his gut crap tightly and tears sprang to life in his eyes.

He couldn't lose James. He didn't think he could survive.

The distant sound of sirens gave him a smidgen of hope. "Just hold on, Lad. Stay with me." He pleaded, voice cracking and chest aching.

A/N: The main title comes from Lawrence's song Punching Underwater.

Chapter title by Maggie Stiefvater, Linger "This is a love story. I never knew there were so many kinds of love or that love could make people do so many different things.I never knew there were so many different ways to say goodbye."