Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC

Content: Season nine spoilers, friendship, angst.

Rating T – angst & a little language

Hey everyone. So sitting in work today I had an idea drift into my head and this is the first exploration of it! I hope that you enjoy the first chapter of this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I'm dipping my toe into the 'other pond' so to speak and I really apologise to those who may hate me (please give it at chance), but the more I have watched season four the more I am becoming more than a little convinced! Anyway please please review (yes I'm sorry … I'm aware it's almost begging … indulge me ) as I would love to hear your thoughts (good or bad) on this. Once again THANK YOU so much for reading. Hope you enjoy! xx

Atonement

Chapter One

Boyd stood in the corridor nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another. His pulse racing as he tried to control his heart rate.

'This is ridiculous ….' he berated himself '….I'm a grown man for frig sake and supposedly in charge.' He ran his hand roughly through his hair, the dim lighting helping to shield the deep apprehension in his eyes from the rest of the world. His body under seize by the mixture of emotions which he had no control over and that were currently holding him prisoner. He swallowed hard trying to reintroduce moisture to his mouth suddenly acutely aware of its dryness as he sighed heavily.

'Absolutely ridiculous Boyd'

He closed his eyes as he played the impending conversation over in his mind pre-empting the reaction that may be invoked as soon as he would walk into the room which was situated just behind where he was currently standing. Best case scenario he thought would be a warm smile, and a feeling of genuine affection. His face clouded. He had always had a pre-disposition of expecting the worse and in this case he was pretty sure the most likely outcome would be a slap across his face along with a tirade of abuse. His lips began to curl slightly into a small smile as he remembered the angry exchanges he had been party to over the years, the passion and intensity firing his soul and making him feel alive. Realisation swept over his mind. The truth was, if he was completely honest with himself, what concerned him more than feeling the sting on his cheek, or being in the firing line of heated angry abusive words was that he would be completely ignored, shut out. Anger, passion, fiery raw emotion, he could deal with, relate to, but to be ignored, especially by her, well that would just drive him crazy.

All his life he had never been known to back away from a fight, his emotions racing from 0 - 100 in seconds. He would lose control easily allowing his passion and drive to take him to places that sometimes even shocked him. However, once he had said what needed to be said, no matter how heated, it was finished as far as he was concerned and he simply moved on. It took him a long while and a lot of help from Grace before he understood that not everyone could get over things and move on as easily as he could. He had often left a trail of destruction in his wake, unaware of the hurt and damage his words had caused until it was pointed out to him. Most things he was able to atone for, most things his team had forgiven him for, but this had been different and he knew it. Absolution he feared would never be granted no matter how much he begged for it.

The last few months had been unsettling to say the least for Boyd and his team, they had lost two members. Sarah Cavendish was dead, killed by the Assistant Chief Commissioner Tony Nicholson and Boyd still carried around the guilt of knowing she died trying to make amends to him. He had been so angry, even briefly flirting with the feeling of hatred towards her when he had found out she had betrayed him, betrayed the team. He may be many things, but at his very core ran a deep sense of loyalty especially when it came to the CCU and the people he cared for. Sarah had destroyed both and it made him furious. Yet for all his anger and hatred, he never wished her to come to any kind of harm. The day her body was discovered in the old storage shed at the back of his garden had been horrific.

As he knelt beside her broken body his mind was overwhelmed with thoughts guilt, anguish, and pain mixed with images of last time he had knelt beside the lifeless body of a member of his team, Mel. Her face flashing into his consciousness as the memory coursed through him like a violent storm. He knew even after all these years that he still hadn't come to terms with loosing Mel. The stark reality was he doubted that he ever would. He could never have imagined the darkness her death would bring to his life, the fallout almost unbearable. He had let her down, and as he knelt beside Sarah's broken body, her blonde hair crimson with her own blood, he was acutely aware he had awarded her the same fate. Consumed in his own grief he had barely heard the words that he had so often spoken himself, as his arms were roughly pulled behind his back and he felt the cold metal around his wrists before the unmistakable tight grasp of cuffs…..

"Peter Boyd … I'm arresting you for the murder of Detective Superintendent Sarah Cavendish …."

The inquiry into Sarah's death had taken eight months. The hastily recorded confession that Boyd had made and Nicholson's subsequent death had been enough to clear him from any involvement in her murder, but there still had to be a formal inquiry into Boyd's behaviour and handling of the matter. He was to be suspended on full pay and the CCU temporarily closed until the situation was resolved.

"So whatya gonna do?" Spence asked concern etched on his face as he looked at Boyd.

"I have absolutely no idea." Boyd shrugged nervously laughing as he did so.

The chill of the evening air started to bite, the wind unbridled sweeping of the Thames. "Nine bloody years, and we end up homeless under Waterloo Bridge."

Boyd turned to look at Grace as she spoke, he could see the glisten of tears start to form in her eyes. He knew that it wasn't because the unit had been temporarily closed, but that she was genuinely worried for him. Nicholson had tried to frame him for murder, and he was about to face a huge investigation into his entire career. She knew over these next few months he was going to need a lot of support and hoped that he would be strong enough to ask for it.

"Oh I dunknow, it feels kinda familiar don't you think? Too much concrete, not enough light." He smiled fondly at her placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly."

"How can you joke at a time like this?" She replied unable to prevent herself from returning his smile.

"I dunknow – what else can I do?"

"Go to the pub and get hammered!" Spence quipped.

"You know what Spence, that's about the best plan you've had all year. Let's get outta here and do what the man says." Boyd said placing a guiding hand on the small of Grace's back as they started to leave.

During the next few months as the investigation got underway the team had gone their own way. Spence had been seconded to CID and was busier it seemed than ever. His work at the Cold Case Unit preparing him for the long hours. Occasionally Boyd had met with him for a pint and a catch up. He enjoyed listening to Spence talk about the latest case he was working on, suspects he was tailing and leads he was following up but it made him impatient, longing to get back into the midst of things again. Damn inquiry. Boyd had assured him that as soon as the investigation was over, if he had anything to do with it Spence would have a job waiting for him if, of course, he still wanted it that was.

Of all the team he had spent the most time with Grace unable to get through a day without talking to her it seemed and meeting up with her at least three or four times a week. Both of them unwilling to let the closeness of their relationship go. She had started to write another book on how the mind is wired, which she delighted in trying to explain to him every time they met for dinner.

"Grace, c'mon, simple, plain, English Puhlease." He held his hands up in exasperation.

"Okay the brain is in two halves ….."

"Yes yes I know that ….. move it on." He gestured with his hands rolling his eyes in mock boredom.

"Okay,…. well the primary road between the hemispheres of the brain is called the corpus callosum."

"Corpus callowhat?"

"Callosum. Anyway it has been proven than women have a thicker corpus callosum than men. Meaning the left brain and right brain talk better to one another than they do in men. We are much more balan …"

"Hold on ….. so what you're telling me here then, Grace, is that women are a talking shop? Aww seriously …. six months of research and this is all you've come up with, women like to talk. Jes ….. I couldda told you that, saved you a load of time." He teased.

"Yea of course you could have. I wait with baited breath on your book being published Peter."

"Prepare yourself for the competition Grace, and I can assure you it will be more insightful than women don't shut the hell up." His smile was playful and prompted her to return it widely.

Grace by all accounts was his best friend. He trusted her more than anyone in the world, and cared deeply for her. He could never image a time when she wouldn't be in his life. He needed her as much as he needed air. She was his counter balance, keeping him in check, pulling him back when he was about to do something monumentally stupid, or picking up the pieces when he had. She had been invaluable these during the investigation into his conduct. Knowing that she was there, and having the freedom to rant and rave to her about the powers that be that were trying to bring him down without any worry of consequence or retribution had been cathartic. He knew that friendship like the one he and Grace shared didn't often come along in life and he was extremely lucky to have found it.

Eve, for her part, had travelled to Somalia to work for two months before returning full time to body farm. Boyd recalled how happy she had been surrounded by dead bodies when he had visited her there.

"Seriously Eve, I really worry about you, you know that don't you?" Boyd remarked as he watched her carefully remove 'one of her babies' from the controlled environment where it had been slowly decomposing.

"Aww Boyd, your concern is so touching." Eve throatily laughed as she gently caressed the skull she was holding.

"If I didn't know you better I'd swear you had psychopathic tendencies." He glibly continued.

"And how do you know that you know me well – maybe I am in fact psychopathic?" She gave a sinister smile.

"I reckon if you were you'd have done me in well before this." He said deadpan.

"Yea actually you're probably right." Her reply causing them both to laugh.

Eve's decision to stay and continue working full time at the body farm rather than returning to the CCU didn't surprise him, although he was saddened by it. She had been a valued member his team, he trusted her, and she was damn good at her job. He didn't want to lose her, but nor could he stand in her way. As weird as it was he could see how happy it made her to be there and if he had learnt anything during these last eight months it was that work was not the be all and end all.

Now that the inquiry was over and Boyd had been fully reinstated it was time for him to gather his team around him again. He couldn't hide his delight when both Grace and Spence had agreed to return taking them to the pub to celebrate the new beginning.

"So Eve's not joining us tonight then?" Spence enquired.

"No, she can't make it, but she said she will pop into the offices when we open to say hello." Grace replied.

"It's gonna be strange not having her around, I've got used to her quirkiness."

"That's one word for it." Boyd interjected.

"So have we been assigned another pathologist yet?" Grace turned to look at Boyd as she spoke.

"Um, no, not yet. I have requested one of course, and the Home Office have assured me that they will send one by the time we are back in business, but so far I've heard nothing."

"Typical Home Office, full of bureaucrats surrounded by paper work but absolutely no substance."

"Says mystic Meg in the corner there …. Anyway we'll find out soon enough – now who's for another drink?" Boyd asked as he stood up.

He was right. He did find out soon enough. As he opened the email from the home office and read its contents he instinctively sank back in his chair swearing into the emptiness of his office. He removed his glasses and ran his hand across his face trying to displace the headache that was threatening to overtake him. Putting his glasses back on he leant forward to re-read the email in the vain chance that he had got it wrong, exhaling loudly as he digested the contents.

He swallowed hard as he tried to determine his emotions, his feelings playing tricks with his mind. He had asked for the best and he was in no doubt that he had got it, but at what cost. He had often dreamt about this day and yet now it appeared to be happening he wondered how it would work. It had been such a long time ago, but he still carried the scars.

Boyd wasn't sure how long he had stood in the dimly lit corridor outside the lab but he couldn't put it off any longer. Briefly he closed his eyes as he mentally prepared himself, taking a deep steading breath he pulled on the white overcoat before pressing the button that opened the door. His eyes quickly adjusting to the bright light as he caught sight of her form turning at the sound of him entering.

"Hi Frankie" He smiled.

"Hello Boyd."