I was in quite a sombre mood this week, which nearly always results in angsty fics. And this time was no exception. This takes place in the aftermath of 9.7, so obvious spoilers up until then. I don't read any spoilers or speculations about the series, so no possible spoilers for episode 8.

I'm sorry for torturing Harry and Ruth like this, but I hope everyone will still enjoy it.

Where We Start

Parts of her hands were bright red, probably from when they'd been in contact with the iron the day before. She winced ever so slightly as she put the last of her stuff into her bag. He just wished he could take those hand in his, kiss them better and tell her that everything would be ok. But he couldn't. Not after what she had just told him.

"You think I blame you for George's death. But the truth is much worse. I'm fine. I killed a man last night, and I don't feel anything."

Harry didn't know quite what to say. Suddenly many things, including why she turned down his marriage proposal, made much more sense. She didn't just do it because of bad timing, or work related issues, but because she blamed herself for moving on with her life after all that has happened.

"I'm taking you home" he said.

She shook her head. "No, I'm going back to work. I told you Harry, I'm fine."

Harry wasn't going to give in this easily. "You can go to work later" he said, "but for now I am taking you home, whether you like it or not."

"Fine" she snarled at him, taking her bag off the bed and walking out of the hospital room without a backward glance.

Harry sighed and followed her out. He had never seen her like this before, and he was at a loss as to how he should deal with this.

The thirty minute drive to Ruth's house passed in complete silence. Ruth had decided to ignore Harry, and was staring out of the window instead. Harry, not wanting to push her after the terrible ordeal she had been through the day before, thought it wise to keep mum and instead focus on the busy London traffic he was navigating his car through.

She got out of the car as soon as he pulled up at her flat, mumbling a quick 'thank you' before she shut the door. Harry quickly got out of the car as well and followed her up the garden path towards the front door. She was busy rummaging through her ridiculously large handbag looking for her keys, which of course she couldn't find.

"Want me to pick the lock?" he asked as he stood behind her, trying to lighten the mood by cracking a joke, and failing miserably.

"They're in here somewhere," she said without looking up. She finally managed to retrieve her keys and quickly unlocked the front door, picking up the piece of paper that fell down as she opened it. 'Old habits die hard', Harry thought to himself.

"You don't have to stay you know Harry," she said. "I'm home safely now, just like you wanted me to be. I'll see you back on the Grid later." She hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but the way she was feeling at the moment she really didn't care.

She walked into the hallway, and was surprised to see Harry following her in and closing the door behind him.

She turned around to look at him. "I thought I said.." she was cut off by Harry at that point.

"I know what you said Ruth and you keep telling me you're fine but, frankly, I don't believe you."

She tried to interrupt him, but he kept going.

"No, let me finish. You've been through a lot yesterday, and it has obviously affected you a lot more than you might think. Which makes you distant, perhaps numb to everything that you should be feeling, and it's confusing you. I know, because I've been there countless times. Now you just need some time, time to rest and..and clear your head and come to terms with what has happened to you."

Ruth was slowly losing it. His words, everything he was saying made her more angry by the minute.

"Stop!" she yelled, before Harry could say anything else. "I'm so sick of people telling me what to do, what to feel. You just don't get it, do you? I'm not confused about what's happened to me, I'm not traumatised by it. I wish I were, because that would make everything just so much easier. I killed a man, albeit out of self-defence. And I'm responsible for another man's death, a man whom I spent nearly three years of my life with, whose son now has to grow up without a father, all because of me! And you know what's worst of all? Consciously I know I should feel guilty, but I can't say I do. I'm just living my life, doing my job like I always have, and I don't feel ANYTHING!"

She shouted out the last part, her voice filled with such desperation that Harry thought his heart was going to break in two right there.

He watched her for a moment as she stood there, hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of her jacket, and all he wanted to do was to take the pain and frustration away from her. She was punishing herself, and it hurt him more than he could possibly put into words. He wished with all his heart that he could take her into his arms, that he could comfort her, but he knew she wouldn't let him. Her distress was almost unbearable.

Instinctively he strode towards her, closing the gap between them in just a few steps. He cupped her face with both hands, and bend forward to kiss her before she could protest. Harry Pearce was in many ways a limited man, and talking about his feelings had never been one of his strong points, so he tried with all his might to put his feelings, his intentions, all into that one kiss.

When he finally pulled away, they were both out of breath, chests heaving as they tried to regain control of their breathing.

"Now don't tell me" he said, still breathing hard, "that you didn't feel anything just then."

Lost for words, she just shook her head before pulling him back towards her for another kiss. Their kissing intensified, hands sliding over each other's bodies, as she started moving backwards, pulling him with her in the direction of her bedroom.

Shit.

Why had he let this happen? It wasn't like he hadn't had countless dreams over the years about what it would be like to make love to her, because he had. But he had never meant for it to happen like this. How could he have been so stupid? He should have known better, but then she was there, kissing him, practically dragging him to her bedroom, and frankly there were limitations to his self-restraint. Their lovemaking had been frantic, needy, not a word was said the whole time.

But now she was lying there at the far side of the bed, her back turned to him, refusing to acknowledge his presence, let alone talk to him. He laid back down and sighed in frustration. Just when he thought this day, and his relationship (or lack thereof) with Ruth couldn't get worse, he had managed to make it even worse still.

He shifted so he was lying on his left side, facing Ruth's back who was still turned away from him. Harry felt he needed to break this unbearable silence they found themselves in, and soon.

"Ruth please, will you at least talk to me? You don't even have to look at me."

Noticing his pleas didn't have any effect on her, he decided to continue anyway.

"Look, about what just happened, about us. It shouldn't have happened. Well it should have, but not this way, not like this. I think we were both just very angry and confused and vulnerable, which lead us to…where we are now. And I want us to move on from this, but…together. I know the timing for my proposal was way off, and you had every right to turn it down back then, but that doesn't mean that I didn't mean every word I said. Because I do."

There was still no response from Ruth, but now that Harry had started talking his thoughts and feelings just seemed to be pouring out, so he continued anyway.

"You stopped me the first time, but this time no one will stop me from what I want, what I need to say to you. I love you Ruth, always have and always will. And I'm prepared to fight for that love, even if it's the last thing I do."

He shifted a bit closer to Ruth, and put his hand on her arm, stroking it softly. He could feel the tension slowly starting to leave her body. She was relaxing under his touch, but still refusing to turn around and face him.

And so he continued. "This time I want to do things right, that is if you let me. I want to court you properly, buy you flowers, take you out to dinner, then go for a long walk, and drop you off at the front door with a goodnight kiss. Of course, in time, I would like it to be more than just that, but there's no rush. We have all the time in the world."

Harry could hardly believe how open he was about his feelings, about what he wanted from life. Never before had he been so candid about his feelings to anyone, but right now it just seemed to come naturally. He tried with all his might to make her see how much she meant to him, and how a life not spent together would be unthinkable and unbearable as far as he was concerned. He just needed her to see that, else his life would no longer be worth living.

At last it seemed that Harry had managed to break down the barriers between them, because she finally turned round, her eyes still not quite meeting his. He looked down into her otherwise bright blue eyes, now watery from the unshed tears that had gathered there. It wasn't long before the first one managed to escape its confines. The tears now came streaming down her cheeks, carefully and lovingly brushed away by Harry's thumb.

"Shh, it's ok sweetheart. Don't cry." He whispered into her ear.

It took a while before Ruth finally managed to find her voice. "I'm so sorry, about everything Harry. I know what I said and what I did must've caused you so much pain. You have to believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you in any way. But I just don't know if I can do this. I don't know whether I can handle this kind of commitment, any kind of commitment to you, when I've got enough personal issues to work through to last a lifetime."

Harry kissed her forehead tenderly, so relieved that she was finally speaking to him again. "But don't you see Ruth? I'm not expecting any kind of commitment from you as long as you're not ready. The only thing I can't bear is for us to be apart any longer, because it's slowly killing me. But we don't need the little cottage in Sussex, or any of that. We can stay just as we are now, only together. And whatever kind of problems you might have, I want to help you work them through. I want to be there for you, so you don't have to face your demons all by yourself."

His words had stopped the flow of tears, but occasionally the odd sob still escaped from her body. She had buried her face in his broad chest whilst she tried to regain control over her breathing.

Finally she felt she was ready to speak again. "Don't think I don't want the same things you want Harry, because I do. Sometimes I just don't know if I can. It feels like ever since I left, I've been constantly torn between two sides. My old life versus my new life, you versus George, the thrill and danger of working for MI5 versus the quiet country life. And I just don't seem to know what I want. I love my job, and I wouldn't want to change it for the world, but it does have its consequences. It has given me so much, but it has taken even more. I just feel like I'll never find true happiness, it's as if the job has taken every ounce of humanity from me, and that I couldn't recognise true happiness, even if it were staring me in the face. It's like I've fallen into an abyss, and I keep going down, further and further down, without the knowledge or the power ever to get out again."

It broke his heart to hear Ruth talk like this, but at the same time Harry was relieved. At least she was talking to him now, properly talking to him, and he had the feeling that they were finally getting somewhere.

"I think it would be wisest if you sought some professional help Ruth," he said.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed and alarmed. "You're not.."

He stopped her before she could finish her sentence. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on calling TRING." He reassured her. "It's just that there are certain things that I can't help you with. I want to, but it's too close to home and I care about you too much, plus I don't have the expertise. I want you to feel happy again, I want to see that beautiful smile of yours return. I'll help you find someone suitable, and you can go alone, or I can come with you if you like. I love you so much, and I miss the old Ruth. The happy, bonkers, clumsy Ruth that came stumbling into my life all those years ago. And I will do everything within my power to help bring her back."

"I miss the old me, too." She confessed. "But I'm not sure if she still exists somewhere. So much has happened over the years. I'd be surprised if there was still anything left of her."

Harry stroked her cheek lovingly. "I'm convinced she's still in there. All of her. And we will find her again, I promise you."

"I just hope you're right" she said, still not entirely convinced.

"There aren't many things in life we can be sure of Ruth. But one thing's certain: I'm nearly always right" he said with a smile, before he leaned in to kiss her again.

The thought of just staying there for the rest of the day was tempting, but they both knew that it would raise suspicion if neither of them showed their face on the Grid for the rest of the day.

"What time is it?" Ruth asked.

Harry turned his head to look at the clock on Ruth's bedside table. "Nearly 4 o'clock."

They sighed in unison, both knowing that they had to get up.

"So what happens now?" Ruth asked.

"Back to work?" he said, giving her a questioning look.

She nodded in agreement. "Back to work."

I'm not sure whether to leave it as a one-shot, or if I should continue. I do have some ideas for possible further chapters. So let me know what you think!