A/N: A recent post on ktrosesworld's blog on tumblr inspired this story about Alec Hardy, his oldest friend, a shrimp, grapes and of course some good old angst (because it wouldn't be one of my stories without it). Sometime between S1 and S2 of Broadchurch… same Alec as all my other stories, different point in time.

This is for KTROSESWORLD – a Thank You for her support, enthusiasm and sharing her adventures [and who probably has no clue where I'm going with this ;-)]. And it is also for HAZELMIST – who loves Duncan and will never look at a shrimp the same way. Couldn't do it without you – thank you!

October Blues

Chapter 1

"He's Just A Shrimp"

Hardy returned late to the Trader's after another aimless day teaching bored recruits and catering to Claire's requests. It had been a long week, but the weekend didn't hold any promises either. He was tired, not only physically, but tired of the whole routine. October had come and was almost gone and he had made no progress with Claire. How she ended up being his only human contact was still disgusting him, but it was his own fault. Ellie Miller was gone - gone with his help that she wasn't even aware he'd rendered - and he had no other people in this God forsaken town that he wanted to talk to.

When he saw Becca Fisher's cheery face, he wished not for the first time she wouldn't always make him leave his keys. Ever since he had collapsed in the hotel bathroom she made sure she saw him at least come in and out. In a way it was touching that she seemed concerned enough and he probably shouldn't complain, but it also made him feel like an invalid, unfit for life.

She plucked the keys off the hook, but didn't hand them over. A mischievous grin brightened up her already happy expression. Sometimes she was too much to bear. She winked at him.

For God's sake, what was she thinking now?

"You've got a visitor," she said, tilting her head towards the bar room.

"What?" He was annoyed. "Becca, we've talked about that. No journalists or any other -"

"I'm not a journalist, Alec. One of the few things I haven't tried out yet," a very familiar Scottish voice spoke behind him. A heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

Hardy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He turned around, bracing himself for what was to come. Before he could even acknowledge his oldest friend, Duncan had tugged him into a hearty embrace.

Becca chuckled. "Aren't the two of you cute? Didn't know you had such attractive friends, DI Hardy."

Hardy groaned and freed himself from Duncan's bear hug. Duncan smiled at Becca, left hand still resting on Hardy's shoulder. Then he leaned onto the counter. His right hand reached gracefully for Becca's and he breathed a kiss on it.

"Why, what a compliment from such a fair lady like yourself." His eyes sparkled and Becca giggled.

"She's dating the vicar, Duncan," Hardy stated drily.

Becca's head snapped up. "How...?"

Hardy rolled his eyes at her. "I used to be a detective, remember? If you want this to be a secret maybe you should let me have my own keys so that I don't always have to keep tabs on you."

"Keeping tabs on me? The idea was for it to be the other way around," she sighed.

"Oh, someone is keeping tabs on you, Alec. How exciting," Duncan joked.

Hardy glared at his friend. He opened his mouth to explain, but Becca beat him to it.

"Just making sure he's accounted for. An ambulance in front of the hotel while the paramedics are carrying out a dying guest isn't really good publicity." Her sarcasm almost masked her underlying concern.

Duncan's forehead pulled into a frown, but he refrained from saying anything. Hardy was sure he would hear about it later. Then Duncan's face relaxed into a mischievous grin.

"Alas, no romantic entanglement then for the intrepid detective. What a pity."

Hardy and Becca exchanged a glance and both of them blushed. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Ah, or maybe I was wrong? A love triangle between the vicar, the fair lady of the hotel and the detective. How intriguing!" Duncan underlined his words with rather theatrical gestures. Becca hid a grin.

This would have been a perfect moment for his heart to falter on him but of course it didn't do him that favor. He attempted to shove his friend away from the reception desk, which he failed miserably at considering how much bigger Duncan was.

"He's an actor, don't listen to him," Hardy growled. "Keys, please?" He wiggled his long fingers at her and she dropped them into his palm. But not without her lips parting into the widest grin he'd ever seen on her. Duncan took a deep bow and followed Hardy who was stalking away as swiftly as he could.

Duncan bounced up the stairs behind him, catching up quickly. The energy in his steps was almost insulting to the ever fatigued Hardy. Duncan was already half way up the next flight when he realized that Hardy had fallen behind. Hardy was leaning heavily against the rail and taking in some measured breaths. When his too slowly beating heart had caught up with the idea of needing to work harder to go up those damn stairs, Hardy trudged along.

Duncan opened his mouth, but one death stare later, he closed it. He kept quiet until they were in Hardy's room. Duncan closed the door, turned around and leaned against it, while Hardy fell onto the easy chair, panting and fishing through his pockets for his pills. He huffed when he realized he had forgotten to get some bottled water from Becca. He clumsily clambered to his feet and trudged over to the en-suite to fill a cup. He almost made it there before the vertigo got the better of him and he plopped down onto the bed.

Duncan still didn't say anything, looking pensively at his friend. He pushed himself off the door, walked to the sink and fetched Hardy a cup with water.

"Let me help you, please?" he said quietly.

Hardy stared at the proffered glass. His hands were trembling when he took it from his friend and swallowed his medication. He hadn't spoken to Duncan since he'd run from Sandbrook. So many phone calls went to voicemail and text messages were left untouched. Hardy felt ashamed that he had ignored his oldest friend who was like a brother to him.

"'M sorry, Duncan," he mumbled. There was no need to explain what he was apologizing for. They both knew it.

"It's all right, Alec." Duncan took the empty glass from him. "You look tired. Do you want to rest a bit before I take you out to dinner?"

Hardy looked up at him. He wasn't really hungry, like most evenings. Exhaustion and the ever present nausea caused by his medications usually robbed him of any urge to eat by the end of the day.

"Dunno. Don't have much of an appetite," he muttered under his breath.

Duncan sighed. "I take it the pills are still making you nauseated then?"

Hardy nodded and leaned back on the headboard. His eyelids were drooping shut. He was vaguely aware that Duncan put his legs up on the bed and pulled his shoes off his feet. He forced his eyes open.

"'M sorry, 's been a long day," he murmured, voice heavy with drowsiness.

"It's fine, Alec. Take a nap. I'll be here when you wake up."

And so he was. When Hardy jerked out of his restless sleep, coughing and sputtering, Duncan was right there to comfort him and help him through the dreadful moment of disorientation that often followed his rude awakenings. It didn't slip Hardy's attention that Duncan was checking his pulse, very well knowing what sudden arousal could do to his heart.

"M fine, Duncan," Hardy claimed. If one defines 'fine' as the questionable accomplishment of not scaring oneself to death upon waking. His sarcasm left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I hate to burst your bubble, my friend, but you are far from being fine." Duncan sounded angry. "What the hell happened to you? When I saw you last you could at least walk up a few stairs without getting winded like that. And what was the hotel owner referring to when she mentioned an ambulance?"

Hardy pressed his lips together. He avoided Duncan's eyes and stayed mute.

"Don't give me that shit, Alec. I can sit here all night and wait until you give me an answer, I'm not going to leave." Duncan planted his large body on the easy chair and folded his arms over his chest. His eyebrows came up, underlining his challenge.

Hardy snorted and gave up. If there was one individual that was more stubborn than himself it was the man sitting opposite him.

"I collapsed in the hotel bathroom and Becca took me to the hospital," Hardy revealed defiantly. Duncan leaned forward and squinted at him.

"And?"

Damn him. Duncan could always tell when Hardy wasn't letting on to something.

"About a month or so ago, I had a cardiac arrest while running down a suspect. Ended up in hospital again, signed myself out and finished the case. They kicked me out after."

Duncan sucked in some air and jumped to his feet. He was pacing in the small room, a bear trapped in a cage. His hands curled and uncurled and he was struggling to keep it together. Eventually he had calmed down enough to speak.

"Does your cardiologist know about this?" His voice was strained from the effort not to yell at Hardy.

Hardy swallowed. Duncan wasn't going to like the answer to this. "Erm… I don't really have one at the moment. Emily went on maternity leave and -"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" This time Duncan couldn't hold himself back. He spun around. It took him one quick step to be in Hardy's face. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't have you committed for suicidal thinking right here and now," he hissed. "Because the shit that you're pulling is unbelievably idiotic, even for you."

Hardy dropped his gaze, unable to face his friend's anger. Deep inside he knew that Duncan was right. It was idiotic of him not to have sought the care of a different cardiologist while Emily wasn't available. The local GP was a nice fellow but had no clue how to manage his heart condition and barely could prescribe what Hardy needed.

"Ah, at least you know you're a moron. Bloody idiot. You could've killed yourself." Duncan had calmed down, voice soft with concern now. He sat down at the edge of the bed and found Hardy's gaze. "Look, I'm not here to yell at you, I'm here because I worry about you. You're like a brother to me and I couldn't stand the thought that one day you'd just be gone and I wouldn't even know what the hell happened."

Hardy didn't know what to say. He felt awful for pushing Duncan away. The irony of his hypocritical behavior didn't escape him. On one hand he was distraught over the fact that his daughter ignored all his calls, on the other hand he did the same to the few friends who hadn't left his side since the Sandbrook debacle. Duncan was right, he was a bloody idiot. He pulled himself up and got out of the bed.

"Do you still want to take me to dinner?" he asked shyly.

Duncan grinned. "'Course I do. I'm starving. Are there even any places to eat in this shit town? Why you had to come here still beats me. And a beach town on top of it. Thought you hate the sand and ocean and what was it that you said? Ah, the never-ending sky."

Hardy rolled his eyes at him. "Ocean's better than a river," he mumbled.

Duncan laughed. "Point taken."

Hardy stood up and before he could fight it off, Duncan pulled him into another hug. "Don't you dare bail out on me, do you hear me, Alec?" Duncan was as earnest as a person could be. His words carried a sentiment that Hardy had almost forgotten about.

He shook his head and with a cracking voice replied, "I'm trying not to."

Duncan released him and smiled, his green eyes mirroring his feelings. "Let's get some food into you, you look too skinny."

Hardy sighed and shrugged on his coat. This was going to be exhausting.

Hardy took Duncan to the one single Thai restaurant in Broadchurch. They didn't talk much after they ordered food. Duncan was waiting for a good moment but Hardy didn't give him one.

Hardy picked at his steamed vegetables with tofu and enviously eyed Duncan's stir fry with beef and shrimp. Sometimes he hated what his life had become. Truth be told, not only sometimes. Most of the time would be more accurate. Actually all the time. He threw down his fork in disgust at his own bleakness and let out a grunt.

Duncan frowned at him. "Your food doesn't look that bad. What's bugging you?"

Hardy's gaze snapped up and when he watched Duncan shove a big piece of fried shrimp in his mouth, he lost it. "Seriously? What's bugging me? My whole fucking life is what's bugging me. Can't even eat fucking fried shrimp without worrying my bloody heart will give out on me one day and when I get upset about it, then it actually becomes a moot point 'cause it'll go to shit anyway and kill me on the spot. My ex-wife is still shagging the guy she's cheated on me with for God knows how long and if I should ever even find another woman who would want to be with my sorry arse then yet again I couldn't even enjoy myself. I hate my job, I miss my child and I'm so fucking alone that I want to jump off the cliffs every time I stare at the horizon."

Hardy was shouting by the end. He was panting and right on cue his heart was going to shit, just to underscore his point. He fumbled with the pills, hands trembling too much to pop them out of the blister pack.

It took Duncan a few heart beats to unfreeze. His hand with the fork and another shrimp had halted somewhere on the way from his plate to his mouth. Self-consciously, he put it down and reached over to help Hardy get his medication where it needed to go. Hardy glared at the discarded shrimp as if he wanted to murder it.

"You know, it's not his fault that your life is rather shitty right now. He's just a shrimp," Duncan dared to comment. It was a bold move considering Hardy's desire to actually hurt something or someone. Or maybe it wasn't. After all the only thing that Hardy was able to injure these days was himself.

He sighed deeply and scrubbed down his face with his hands. "Why did you come, Duncan?"

"You didn't answer my calls," Duncan replied. Hardy knew him too well. There was something else.

"Why now?"

Duncan reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope which he placed in front of Hardy. Hardy squinted at the writing while fishing out his glasses. It was addressed to Geena, Duncan's wife. At her law office address. Hardy had a bad feeling about it. He pulled out the sheets of paper, eyeing them suspiciously. As he suspected it was from Tess' solicitor. He skimmed through the writing and then tossed the letter on the table. His glasses followed and he rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

"Alec, what happened there? Why did you not pay the child support?" Duncan asked gently.

Hardy shook his head, too emotional to answer. The solicitor had stated they would take him to court to revoke the joint custody rights for Daisy as he had failed his obligation of financially supporting his child. He didn't even know that had happened. He was racking his brain why the money might not have reached Tess. He had made sure that all his ongoing payments were transferred and set up correctly when his source of income had changed this month. The child support had been the first he fixed.

"I don't understand. It should have come through," he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else.

"Geena talked to this solicitor and asked him why they didn't just try to get in touch with you before dragging the whole thing to court. He said that Tess did but you ignored her calls. Is there any truth to that?" Duncan asked carefully.

Hardy's eyes widened. "I would never ignore her calls. What if it was about Daisy?"

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his call history. When he saw the eight missed calls and voicemails, his mouth gaped open. He would have sworn on the life of his daughter that he couldn't recall any of them. He dropped his phone like a hot potato. Duncan was scrutinizing him and picked it up, frowning when he saw what Hardy had just discovered.

"So what is this then?"

"I dunno. I swear I have no knowledge of these calls," Hardy defended himself meekly.

"There are how many - eight? Alec, how can I believe that you missed that many if it wasn't intentional?" Duncan didn't sound as patient any more.

Hardy buried his face in his hands. "Maybe I'm just losing my mind," he breathed into his palms. Between Claire's demands, his chronic sleep deprivation due to the never ending nightmares, his failing heart and the bleakness of the rest of his life, it wouldn't surprise him.

"Alec, are you still not sleeping?" Duncan's hand had found its way onto Hardy's shoulder. Hardy bopped his head up and down, unable to speak. "Same nightmares?" Again a nod.

Duncan sighed. "We paid the child support."

"You did what?" Anger was making Hardy's voice tremble.

"To get the solicitor off your back and avoid another court hearing. We set it up through our account for now."

Hardy was so furious he could barely think straight. He pulled out his wallet, tossed twenty pounds on the table to cover his bill and stormed out the door. By the time he had ran down two streets, his heart caught up with him and punished his rash actions. A burning pain whipped through his chest and swept him of his legs, leaving him breathless and crumpled against the wall of the building next to him. He barely registered the strong hands that helped him up and dragged him into a car. The world around him went black.

A/N: For those of you who are not familiar with my other stories and my close-to-canon-but-still AU story "A Million Holes Poked In The Soul"… Duncan is Alec's oldest friend who he has known since they were teenaged boys. In MHPS Part 1 Alec is trying to take Daisy to Duncan's wedding, in MHPS Part 2 Duncan lends Alec his support. For those who might need a visual you might picture Gerard Butler in this role, I know it works for hazelmist ;-)

And don't get too upset about the cliffhanger… the next chapter will be up in a day or two…

Oh and for those who wonder how Ellie Miller fits into this… be patient, you'll see… ;-)