Hi everyone! Two fics in a week? I know, very unlike me but the new series has got my creative juices flowing so I've finally managed to get this one out. This is a little bit of angst set after series 14 but before Death Has No Dominion (on that note... How good was DHND? Loved it!). Thank you to Flossie, Em and Amy for review my last fic! Without everyone over on twitter, I would have never gotten this finished, you are all amazing :)

Discalimer: the BBC own all recognisable characters :) I just like playing with them.

When the Morning Comes

The mist was settling over London as you looked out from your apartment. It seemed so ominous. Like Mother Nature knew something you didn't. Like she was mocking you.

The mist hung low as the sun slowly rose up in to the sky, illuminating the city. 5 AM. You still haven't gone to sleep yet. Since Hungary sleep has evaded you, night upon night. The tiredness has come and gone. You are living in an almost zombie like state. But you are still living.

You've decided that this is the time that you like London the best. Very early, no one is around. It's so still, so peaceful. It lets you think. And you are constantly thinking. It's like your brain can't switch off. Like you know if you switch off, the numbness will find you.

Your phone rings. You don't realise what it is at first. It's just an annoying noise; a high pitched trill that you know should have some meaning. You answer. You know who it will be. Leo. Who else would call you?

The crime scene you've been called to is in North London, not usually your area but the deceased is related to the home office pathologist for that area, so you get called in. It's always you. Why is it always you?

It takes you a while to get there from your flat. The tube isn't going to be running. Not with a person on the tracks. The drive is not too bad but the silence of the car seems to harvest your undreamt nightmares. It's all you can do to keep focused.

It's never what you want. To get to a suspected suicide only to realise you know the victim. This is a thought that's plagued you the last couple of months. What if that is you one day, what if you get to the scene and it's Harry lying there. Dead. That's an unimaginable thought. It couldn't happen to you. Not again.

You get to the scene. You are slightly disorientated, this is not your usual patch and it's only just gone 6. You approach the body. It's lying awkwardly across the tracks, under a walkway. His neck is broken. You can tell that before you are even standing over him.

You crouch down to take a good look at the facial injuries sustained. You know this man. Very vaguely, but still it's a shock. James Matron. He was the year above you at school. You had lost your virginity to him at a party aged just 15. Why? He was charming and, like always, you fell for it. Just like every other man ever since. Once he was done with you he never spoke to you again.

In an odd sort of way you are glad he is dead. His actions all those years ago caused you to be the person you are now. In both good ways and bad ways. Without him you would have never gotten yourself out of that hell hole and to university. Thus leading you to your current work. But would you have been the cynical, distrusting women you are now if you'd never met him? You realise you will never know.

You try not to dwell on the death of James Matron as you drive to the Lyell Centre. Your tiredness is finally catching up with you but luckily your mind is otherwise occupied from your earlier distressing thoughts. As you pull in to the car park you contemplate just sitting in your car and going to sleep, but years of experience mean that you know just a 2 minute walk away is a very comfy desk chair with a very comfy desk to rest your head on.

You lift your head. Someone is calling your name. It is a voice you recognise but you can't place it. Your vision is blurry. That's what you get for falling asleep at work. It's Harry calling your name. He asks if you are okay, if you were having a nightmare, telling you that you looked scared, frightened. You reassure him everything is fine, that you didn't sleep well last night and that you know your case is going to be complicated. You don't tell him you know the dead man. That would take a lot of explaining. That's not something you really want to get in to with Harry. You just know how protective he would be of you. He'd demand that Leo let him take the case instead. But you know you have to do this case, to get some sort of closure that you never knew you needed.

Three weeks later and the case is finally over. You were right, it was a complicated case. Allegations of rape, fraud and drug dealing stacked up against James Matron. The investigation had been very hard on you. Both Harry and Leo had seen its effects. Despite all their questions you assured them you were fine. But you don't feel fine now. You feel like you've just been hit in the chest with the weight of it all. It feels like it has knocked you right over. All you want is to cry. How has it happened that this one man has had such a pronounced effect on your life? You would have thought the most influential man in your life would have been your father, not that he was much good. But no, here you are now, sobbing in to your hands by the Albert Memorial over James Matron. The whole Hungary situation seems to have faded in to nothingness compared to the weight of this case. Your previous demons have subsided but this, this is taking over.

It has gone four in the morning and there is no one around. You can be alone in this moment. Totally and utterly alone to find the solace you so desperately crave.

It's cold. Your hands are blue. But you suppose that is what you get for sitting outside in the middle of the night in November in just a flimsy blouse. You have no idea what the time is now but its light and there are people beginning to show up. Crazy people out for a jog in the early morning cold. Business people wrapped up in their coats, bustling about, off to work you presume.

Suddenly you feel a presence behind you. You look over your shoulder to see who is standing over you. Your shocked. It's Harry. How he found out where you were, you have no idea. But you are glad he is here. He wraps his warm arms around you and gives you his coat. A familiar gesture. A comforting one. You cling on to him for dear life. Like if you let go you will lose him forever. He doesn't even have to speak to comfort you. You've been in this situation before. He leads you away from the bench where you spent most of the night. And you now know that nothing can hurt you. Not now he's here. You're safe.

Thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked it! Please drop me a review to tell me what you think, even just a few words make my day :)

Lizzi xxx