This Time
By Montez
Disclaimer: Own nothing with regards to Broadchurch or known characters associated with this wonderful program.
A/N: Where to start? David Tennant is amazing. Love Doctor Who and how he plays him, so I decided I needed to watch some other stuff he's been in and I found Broadchurch. Fantastic program, well written, wonderfully acted, just awesome. I totally fell in love with Hardy from the start and as the program progressed David's portrayal of the tortured man just pulled you in even more, throw in the illness he's desperately trying to hide and what's not to absolutely love about the character. So anyone who knows any of my writing knows I thrive on vulnerability and tortured souls, so of course I couldn't resist Alec Hardy. This is my first Broadchurch Fanfic and I have at least one more in mind but thought I better test the water's first. Hope you enjoy-Montez
God he hated the feeling. Nearly two years he'd been living with this or, for a better term, dying with this. Stress the doctors had said, stress, lack of taking care of himself, working himself to the point of exhaustion then the final push…him damn near drowning in that river. The weight of the child in his arms had been pulling him under ever since. He had collapsed on the bank after pulling Pippa's small body from that water, had barely heard the other officers approaching, never even felt his own knees hit the sodden earth. All he could feel before his world went dark, was the water in his lungs, stealing his breath as his eye's focused on the bloated face of a once beautiful child.
Now he was sitting on the step in front of his small rental, the pain in his chest had been worsening, stubbornness still wanted to push it away…not think about it even though it was all he could think about sometimes. This was going to kill him and honestly there were days he wished it would hurry up and do it. His procedure was in a couple weeks, he hadn't told anyone, who could he tell? Tess wouldn't care, he didn't want to worry his daughter and the only person he even remotely had conversations with in Broadchurch was Ellie and God knew she had enough going on. Putting her on the Sandbrook case was as much a distraction for her as it was to help him, he needed closure, for the families, for the girls and for himself. He could hear Ellie moving around just inside his place, pinning things to the wall, a fresh pair of eyes on what felt like ancient evidence. He could hear Fred's small child noises just over the quiet of the television, those sounds brought images of Daisy as a toddler, he missed his daughter so much.
His chest tightened as his breath caught, his mind flashed back to the now nightly nightmares of drowning in that river, he'd been waking up gasping for air, coughing up the phantom water that filled his lungs. His heart was racing now, he couldn't move, could barely breathe as his vision blurred, then tunneled. He could feel the blister packet in his pocket, but he had waited to long, his hands would not obey his command to retrieve them. The pain was worse, flashes of collapsing in the boat yard months ago filled his mind. He stifled the sound, help was right inside the doorway, why couldn't he bring himself to cry out…he hated feeling weak, he hated being weak…a small part of him, a very small part just wanted it all to stop and as his vision dimmed and he felt his body starting to slip from the step he wondered if this time it would.
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Ellie was busy putting up maps and photos, her eye's taking in the details, noting location points, timelines of everyone's movements. She didn't like Claira, didn't have a good feeling about her and she was finally glad to see Hardy seemed to be starting to harbor those same feelings. Miller was sure the woman had played her former boss. As much of a pain in the ass the man could be he had a chivalry streak. He felt the need to protect people he saw as victims and Claira played into that, but Ellie knew something was up with the woman, she just needed to figure out what.
As the day had worn on she had noticed Hardy looking pale, well paler than normal…God the man could use some sun. His dark hair and beard seemed to accent this lack of color and the hollowness of his face, how he had the strength to leave the house each morning was beyond her. She had been grateful for his presence in the courtroom each day, he seemed to be the only 'friend' she had left in this town. He'd been a buffer to all the glares she received from the people she use to consider friends. When did she start viewing him as a friend? It was clearly a love/hate relationship with her hating him more times than not, but that had changed and she had come to rely on his quiet, brooding presence to give her a sense of normalcy that had been there before her world fell out from under her.
She glanced at Fred who was playing happily near the small television, Hardy had moved outside as she cleared space to look through the Sandbrook files. She'd just placed a picture on the wall and turned to reach for another when a slight noise drew her attention, she couldn't place it. Her son was still in sight so it wasn't him. The wind was blowing slightly, it always did near the water, but the short rain burst had passed less than thirty minutes ago. "Everything alright out there?" Ellie called, trying to catch a glimpse of Alec's hunched back through the blowing sheer curtains.
She thought she saw a slight movement and looked a little closer, making her way across the room toward the open doors. "Hardy, you alright?" she called again. She had learned after him nearly dying on her in the boat yard that he hated talking about his condition and hated it worse when she would ask him about it, but something wasn't right.
When he didn't answer she stepped through the doorway…few things could bring her chaotic world to a stop, finding out her husband had killed an 11 year old boy had slammed it to a stop that took her weeks to get started again and though it had been moving at half speed ever since what she saw when she cleared the curtain, slammed the breaks on again.
Her mind flashed to the boat yard, but then he had been moving when she'd gotten to him, crying out in pain, struggling to breath, but moving. This time there was an unnatural stillness, a quiet that caused her mind to not want to process what was in front of her, "HARDY!" she yelled as she dropped beside him, her hand automatically going for her phone to call for an ambulance. He wasn't moving, his eye's weren't pleading for help like they had been that dark night, "No, you don't get to do this to me again…" Ellie yelled at him as she reached for his neck, "Alec open your eye's!" she yelled as she gave him a hard shake, using his given name to get a rise out of him that didn't come.
Her fingers pushed around his neck, her hand laying on his chest, her face turned next to his slightly parted mouth…nothing, there was nothing. "You damn stubborn Scot, you don't get to do this…" She swore again as she tilted his head back and forced two deep breaths into his still lungs, she then rose up and began a steady set of compressions on his unmoving chest, "Damn it…you bloody well better not die on me now…come on" she whispered as her count finished and she checked again, still nothing and so she started all over again.
The sound of an ambulance finally arriving barely registered as her focus was on the slightly blue tint his lips were taking on. Miller was unceremoniously pulled back as two paramedics dropped down beside the unresponsive man. She answered the questions shot at her the best she could, how long? Underlying conditions? Medications?
Her attention was drawn to the doorway as Fred's babbling met her ears over the sound of her own heart nearly beating out of her chest and the words being thrown about my the medics. Ellie reached over, picking up her son just as the EMT sent the first shock through Hardy's body, compressions and breathing resuming as the machine charged again. She held Fred tight as another shock was sent, this time noticing the tears slipping from her own eyes as she watched for movement from the man lying on the ground. Finally the medics frantic motions picked up as they readied Alec for transport, it was then that Ellie finally noticed the faint mist on the oxygen mask, he was breathing again, that meant his heart was also beating again.
She watched as he was wheeled toward the ambulance then hugged her youngest son tightly as he continued to babble, pointing at the flashing lights, flinching as the siren engaged and the vehicle swiftly moved away. Miller looked back at the spot Hardy had died, he had been dead…not just almost like last time, but truly dead. But now he wasn't, he was on the way to the hospital again, but he was alive. Ellie moved inside the house, turning off the television, switching off lights, absently she grabbed Hardy's coat before pulling the door closed. She would drop Fred at her sisters and make her way to the hospital, by hell if this didn't get his damned attention to go through with the bloody operation then she might just handcuff him to the hospital bed until she convinced him it wasn't just about him anymore.