A/N: Finally, a Broadchurch category. Been sitting on this fic for a week.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just love Broadchurch.
Ellie led Hardy down the hotel corridor, pausing outside the door with her right hand on the doorknob, her left arm occupied with her sleeping younger son, Fred. Hardy raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her hesitation.
The former Detective Sargeant bit her lip in anxiety and sighed in defeat. "Are you sure you are willing to do this? I could take him to a proper therapist..."
She really didn't want to though.
Alec Hardy smirked and patted her arm in reassurance. "Miller, I-"
"For God's sake, sir, Ellie." She whispered harshly.
He felt terrible for forgetting, again. She didn't need anymore reminders of her husband than what was necessary. He was sure that it was difficult enough seeing him in their children every day.
"Ellie," He began again, "I'm sure. He's too fragile right now for a therapist. He needs someone to tell him the facts and not be able to sugarcoat them."
Ellie frowned. She knew her former boss was calloused and able to speak the truth without breaking like she does, but she was starting to see the more human and extremely kind side of him. She nodded in understanding. Tom needed help, and Hardy was her best option at the moment.
She turned the doorknob, and pushed open the door. Both her and Alec looked within to see Tom Miller sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from them. He seemed to be playing a game on his smartphone.
"Tom, sweetie?" Ellie called, softly.
Tom looked back at the door, and Hardy's heart fell. The boy looked terrible, with sunken-in cheeks, deep dark circles under his eyes, and the eyes themselves lacking that boyish gleam he'd seen before. It's terrible thing to see a child so broken. Tom didn't respond, and went back to facing the other direction when he saw Hardy. This was going to be more difficult than the detective thought.
"Tom, Detect-Mr. Hardy is here to see you." It hurt both Ellie and Alec for him to be introduced like that.
She continued, shifting Fred in her arms. "He's here to answer any questions you have about Da-" Alec quickly looked over at her in concern when she took in a shaky breath to recover from her slip-up, "a-about all that's happened. I'll be in the foyer of the hotel with Fred if you need me, okay?"
Tom still refused to turn around, but nodded his head in acknowledgement. Hardy walked into the room, but Ellie grasped his arm before he got too far. He turned and nodded in assurance in response to Ellie's anxious expression. She nodded back and left the hotel room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Alec passed Tom, looking over his shoulder as he went to grab the chair next to the window. He decided he needed to start with something light to get him talking.
"What are you playing, Tom?" he asked quietly as he set the chair down in front of him and sat on it with his chest against the back of the chair, his arms folded over the back.
Tom looked up briefly and went back to the game. "Nothin."
Alec sighed. He was shutting himself off, and he had every right to. What his father had done to his best friend was appalling, whether or not they'd had a falling out. Hardy slid a bit closer and spoke softly.
"Tom, I.." Ugh, he wasn't good at this. No one should be good at this, in his opinion.
"I know you don't like me. At all. We got off to a bad start, and there's been many misunderstandings and..." He hoped Tom was listening.
"Your mother is very concerned about you, Tom." He saw Tom flinch a little at that. Aha, so he was listening.
It was true. Ellie said that whenever she had tried to talk to Tom, he had shut himself like he was doing now.
"She says you haven't been eating, and she or Olly have to force you to drink."
Ellie had cried to Hardy about him basically starving himself and becoming catatonic since Danny's funeral march a week ago. She feared for his life.
At this, Tom shut off the game on his phone and set it beside him. That's a start, Hardy thought. The boy first continued to stare off into the distance, then his sunken eyes met Hardy's, coldly.
"I'm fine." He said softly. It would have been convincing, but the crack in his voice on the word 'fine' gave him and his pain away.
Alec shook his head and smiled sadly. "No, Tom. You're not fine."
Instead of responding the boy crossed his arms in defiance, refusing to meet Alec's eyes. The former detective sighed, deciding to get straight to the point.
"Your mother wants me to talk to you about Danny."
Tom feigned innocence, but his tone was harsh and tortured. "What about Danny?"
Alec ran a hand through his hair in irritation and responded louder. "You know what I mean, Tom. What happened to Danny. "
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You need to talk about it." Hardy was beginning to lose his patience.
Tom glared at the man, "What else is there to talk about? Dad killed him."
Oh, God. Here we go. Why did he agree to do this again?
Tom's eyes began to glisten and his face flushed red in anger and frustration. He wasn't finished. "He became friends with Danny, stealing him away from me, and then he killed him!"
As his voice started to rise, Hardy could feel Tom slipping towards the edge. Maybe a breakdown was what he needed.
"Tom, I know-"
"NO!" Tom exclaimed. "You DON'T know!" The boy stood up in his rage and shouted in Alec's face. It had been bottled up for so long, that the words came streaming out of his mouth.
"He took my best mate! He took him and he did terrible things! He bought him expensive things and they NEVER TOLD ME! Why was it such a secret?! WHY DID DANNY HAVE TO DIE?!"
Hardy stood up from the chair quickly during Tom's screaming. He tried to grab him by the shoulders to calm him down but Tom lunged at him. Tom's fist crashed against Alec's abdomen as he continued to scream. The pain of the punches almost made the detective buckle over, but he remained upright. He tried to maintain his heart rate but it was getting worse by the second. Angry hot tears were streaking down Tom's face.
"Why didn't they tell me?! Why didn't he love ME?! I THOUGHT HE LOVED ME!"
Alec crushed him in his embrace, one arm around his back, the other bracing the back of his head, trying to hold him still. It effectively stopped the punches to his gut, bu the child kept crying and screaming. The man didn't know what to tell him, one of the consequences of being such a pessimistic person. Everything was not okay. What other words of comfort could he give an eleven year old that they wouldn't know was an absolute lie?
So he just held him until he would quiet down, like he would do with Bethany. His daughter used to have tantrums, but never over a subject so grave or confusing.
Eventually, Tom's screams and sobs faded into light whimpers, sniffling, and shuddering breaths. During the struggle, Tom had grabbed hold of Alec as well, grasping his fingers into the back of his suit.
"W-why did he do it?" He finally uttered after what seemed like hours of crying, removing some of the strength behind his embrace, but his face still against Hardy's chest.
Alec withdrew a little from his hold on Tom and looked down at him. When the boy finally looked up, his heart dropped at his broken expression and blood-shot bleary eyes.
He walked Tom over to the edge of the bed and sat him down by his shoulders lightly. He then grabbed the chair and sat properly in it across from him.
"He claimed it was an accident." Hardy finally told him. "He said that Danny was going to rat out their rela-, their friendship to the entire town, and there was a struggle." He still had a terrible time uttering the word 'relationship' when referring to Danny and Joe.
"That's not what I meant." Tom sniffled, wiping and rubbing his eyes. "I meant, why did he and Danny become friends... or whatever."
Hardy cleared his throat. "Joe said that he was in love with Danny." There was no other way for the former detective to say it.
Tom squirmed in his seat, looking completely uncomfortable with the topic. Still he continued. "What did he do to Danny?" He asked, disgust evident in his tone.
"He said he never did anything but hug him."
"Bullocks." Tom sneered in anger.
"Watch your language, Tom." Alec admonished him. Hard times or not, an eleven year old had no business talking like that.
"But, I don't believe it!" Tom exclaimed, his voice breaking as he drew in a shuddering breath.
Hardy exhaled on a sigh. The fact that this was the boy's father they were talking about made him sick to his stomach.
"He claims to have done nothing, but there is no way to prove that they did anything of that nature." He admitted, in softer tones.
Tom remained silent, picking at a frayed part of the hotel bed comforter.
Hardy scooted towards him another couple of inches. "Is there anything else you want to know? Anything else you want to talk about?"
The boy didn't speak for a while, and the two of them sat in a tension-filled silence, their breathing being the only noise in the room.
Suddenly, Tom began to cry again, one of the tears falling off of his nose. Hardy reached into his suit jacket pocket and found his old handkerchief. He handed it to Tom, who took it and wiped his eyes. After he had finished and took a couple of deep breaths he continued.
"Did he..." Tom took another steadying breath. "Did he love me at all ?" His voice cracked at the end, the scared child breaking through the facade he was trying to put up.
Hardy felt himself getting verklempt at the sight of this broken child, but he held it in as he answered him.
"He does, Tom. He loves both you and Fred. He loves you."
Tom was refusing to make eye contact with him. His shoulders had relaxed some, but the doubt covered his features like a dark mask.
"How do you know?" He sneered, finally meeting Hardy's eyes with a distrustful glare.
Alec kept up the stare. "Because he told me, Tom. He loves you more than anything." He paused for a moment. "He honestly didn't know how he felt for Danny, but his love for you is there and it will never end. I'm a father too, I know." He smirked, sadly. "We never stop loving you."
Tom broke again, sobbing into the former detective's handkerchief. Hardy could see he was trying to calm himself down, but the tears kept coming.
Hardy leaned forward and grasped Tom's shoulder in reassurance. "You don't have to be so brave, you know." He cupped his cheek as Tom let out another sob. "You have every right to be angry, sad, confused, hurt, anything you feel. Don't keep it down and try to put on a brave face. That's how outbursts like this happen. They're not healthy." Tom sniffled and met his eyes.
Hardy felt his own tears prickling the backs of his eyes. "You're just a kid, Tom. And you are going to be a kid for a long while. So, don't lose yourself. Alright?"
On a shaky exhale, Tom nodded.
Letting go of his face, Hardy let out his own sharp breath and sat back in his chair. "Do you want to keep talking or do you want me to go call your mother in?" He asked softly.
"I..uh.." Tom sniffled again. "I think I want to see Mum."
"Okay." Alec ran a hand over his face to calm himself and then stood up from his chair. He looked down at Tom. "Tom, just know that you can call me whenever you want, alright?" He pulled out a personal business card from his pocket, and Tom took it and put it in his pocket, his eyes towards the floor.
Hardy glanced over him one more time, and patted him on the shoulder on the way out. Halfway to the door, he heard Tom get up from the bed behind him.
"Mr. Hardy? Your...uh..." When he turned around, Tom was standing behind him with his wet handkerchief outstretched in his palm towards him.
"Keep it, Tom. It's filthy now." He smirked, and to his success, Tom managed a smile back. He turned back around and continued out the door.
"Mr. Hardy?" He heard again, softer this time.
"Yeah?" He turned back. Tom was biting his lip, and he took a step closer and raised his eyes to meet the man's.
"Thank you, Mr. Hardy. For everything." He had his hand outstretched, sans handkerchief this time.
"You're welcome." The former detective grinned, and took Tom's hand and shook it. After the handshake, he cupped Tom's cheek again. "You're a good kid, Tom."
He turned back to the door once more. As his turned the handle and started to walk out...
"Mr. Hardy?"
He turned back once more towards Tom Miller. It took a while for Tom to get over the lump in his throat but he finally spoke.
"What do we do now?" He asked timidly.
Alec Hardy took in an enormous breath, exhaled it through his teeth and said,
"We mend, Tom. Now we mend."
Yes? No? What'd you think?