A/N: Thanks to all the readers out there. I hope the wait wasn't too long… I enjoyed writing this chapter tremendously… a few head canon stuff from "my" Hardy's past slipped into this story… see notes at the end.

My heartfelt thanks to FRANZI86 whose input has been invaluable. Thank you to KTROSE for correcting my mistakes and flailing. Thank you to THEDELIRIUMTENNANTS who still upholds she's not invested in the characters (yea, right). And many, many thanks to HAZELMIST whose caps-lock commentary I've missed so much and who always makes me a better writer.

Chapter 4 – "Don't fuss!"

Happy chatter filled the Latimer house, and the smell of a roast wafted over from the kitchen. Hardy checked his watch for the millionth time.

Ellie hadn't come yet.

Hardy didn't want to admit it, but it worried him. He wiggled his way past the crowd toward Beth.

"Have you heard from Ellie?"

Beth looked up from mashing potatoes. A frown formed on her forehead. "No. Have you?"

Hardy shook his head. His gut told him something was wrong.

"I'm going over there. Text me if she gets here while I'm gone," he hollered, walking out without waiting for a reply.

The anxious knot in his stomach drove him to race across the field. His heart's protest went unnoticed despite the pounding in his throat. Breathless he skidded onto the driveway, tripping over his own feet. He stumbled onto the vestibule, and as soon as he got closer, he heard Fred wail inside. The door was locked. He called Ellie's name repeatedly, but no one answered.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," he cursed loudly while searching for a hidden key. He knew there wouldn't be one as Ellie didn't trust Joe to not make an unwanted reappearance.

"Mummy?" Fred's little voice was shrill with fear.

"Fred? Can you hear me? It's Hardy. Is your Mummy all right?"

"Hadee!" Fred was sobbing and Hardy's heart burst.

"Fred, do you know how to open the door?"

"No," the boy cried.

"Where is your Mummy?" Hardy forced his voice to stay calm.

"Here," Fred replied.

Hardy's fingers tightened around the door knob in frustration. The answer was only so useful, but what was he expecting from the four-year-old?

"Can you talk to your Mummy?"

"She's not saying anything."

That wasn't reassuring.

Think, think, think, Hardy ordered himself.

The door wasn't an option. Window then. Maybe there was an open one? He jogged around to the front, but everything was fastened securely. His frantic eyes fell on a large rock in the front yard. Hardy didn't think twice. After ensuring that Fred was at the door, he hurled the rock through the window. He hastily stuck his arm through to open it up from the inside, cutting himself on the sharp edges. He swung his long leg over the sill and climbed in. Shards of glass pricked his hands and knees when he slid over the wooden frame. One scan of the room was enough to still his thudding heart.

Heedless of the glass or anything in his way, he stumbled to Ellie's side. A small puddle of blood had formed around her head and motionless body. He fumbled for her pulse at her neck. A weight was lifted off of him when his fingertips were greeted by a strong and regular beat.

"Oh, thank God," he whispered.

"Hadee!" Fred came running and threw his little body against Hardy.

He slung an arm around the child and held him as tight as he could. With the other hand he fished out his phone and called it in. Beth was next on his list. He needed back up, not knowing if he'd be able to hold out until help would arrive. The pacemaker was frying his feeble heart and doing its job faithfully. For now.

He barely made it to his feet when the paramedics knocked at the door. They arrived at the same time that Beth, Mark, and Tom came sprinting across the field.

Chaos ensued. Beth tried to pry Fred from Hardy's arms, but the little boy clung onto Hardy, refusing to let go. Hardy whispered nonsense into his ear to soothe the frightened child, holding onto the warm body in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Mark and the paramedics were talking over each other to figure out what had happened. Tom remained mute, his jaw clenched. He held his unconscious mother's hand until they wheeled the stretcher with her still figure into the ambulance.

Suddenly it was quiet in the room. Hardy squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back against the wall. The world around him softened more and more, lines and faces blurring into each other.

"Beth… Beth," he called out weakly. "Take Fred. I think I'm going to-"

He never finished telling her that he was about to pass out. He didn't need to. His slumping body did the talking for him.

The light hurt her eyes. No, not her eyes but her brain. Regardless, she blinked through the sharp waves of agony. A groan filtered into her hazy consciousness. It took a few moments to register that it had been her own.

First, everything was white fuzz. Then a blob swam into focus. The blob turned into a blurry face. A worried and scowling face.

"Do you have to look like this?" she slurred.

The scowl deepened. "Do you have to try and kill yourself in a domestic freak accident?"

"Ugh, shut up, Hardy," she mumbled, every word sending a throb through her head.

Her eyelids drooped shut. Something landed on her chest. She cracked them open.

"Seriously?" she rasped.

"These ones have seeds. I made sure of it."

"Smart arse."

He snorted.

"What's smart arse, Hadee?"

Ellie's eyes popped open. She hadn't noticed Fred, tucked in on the chair with Hardy. Fred looked from Hardy to her. When he got a nod of approval from the grown up, he climbed onto the bed and snuggled up against Ellie.

She moved her left arm to wrap it around her son. Unfortunately, it wasn't as cooperative as she was expecting. This might have been related to the cast that was encircling nearly the full length of it.

"What the hell happened?" she croaked.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Hardy questioned carefully.

She recognized the tone and was instantaneously annoyed at him. "Don't do that," she snapped.

"Don't do what?" he whined.

"Interrogate me."

"'M sorry," he mumbled and fidgeted with his hospital gown.

He dropped his chin and pressed his lips to a thin line. Ellie's addled brain was slow to process the information that her eyes had provided her with.

"Why are you wearing a hospital gown?"

The fidgeting became more frantic.

"Erm… might have passed out after I found you."

"Mummy, you got to ride in the ambulance. And Hadee did too," Fred chimed in enthusiastically.

"Hardy?" she growled, her patience wearing thin.

"You didn't show up for lunch. I had a bad feeling and ran across the field. Probably wasn't the best idea considering that the thing had gone off earlier. When I got there, Fred was crying and you were out. You really should give me your keys. I had to break into the living room window to-"

"Wait. Did you just say you broke into a window?"

Hardy's crimson head bobbed up and down.

"Smashed it with a stone." Fred filled in the details, his voice mirroring the awe for Hardy's deed.

"I'll pay for it," Hardy stuttered, avoiding her gaze at all cost.

"Don't be daft," she dismissed his offer. "It wasn't your fault what happened."

After all it was her who had been rushing around and tripped over Fred's toys.

His head snapped up. Guilt etched lines into his pale face. "But it is."

"What? You're kiddin'. How is it your fault that I slipped on-"

"I gave Fred those cars."

Ellie and Hardy stared at each other until Hardy's scrunched up face swam out of focus again. The pain behind her eyes intensified with each throb that pulsed through her.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," she moaned.

Hardy jumped into action. He helped her prop herself up, held her hair back with one hand and the plastic bowl in the other. He didn't flinch or comment as she forcefully rid herself of her stomach contents. When she was a done and a trembling mess, he gently lowered her back onto her pillow.

Her eyelids grew heavy.

"Go to sleep, Ellie," he whispered into her ear while wiping her face off. "I'll be here when you wake up."

Her mind drifted off with his gentle Scottish lilt taking her away to a happier place.

Autumn 2016…

"Let go, Hardy," Ellie exclaimed in frustration.

He didn't, and Ellie was ready to beat the shit out of him if only she didn't have one arm in a cast and a sling. Her boss turned out to be the most impossible fussing person ever. Anything that had ever been said about her being overbearing paled in comparison to Hardy's constant hovering.

One week after the incident, she had recovered sufficiently from the concussion to be able to go back to work. The broken elbow would need several weeks to heal, but that wouldn't prevent her from running CID.

Or at least she had assumed so. According to Hardy, she was in no shape to render her services to the Broadchurch police force. He had made his opinion known loudly, and so had Ellie. Their tempers had risen quickly, and the staff had enjoyed the show immensely. They'd ended up being called into Jenkinson's office. It had taken her one targeted remark about a certain issue with a secret heart condition to shut Hardy up, and Ellie had left the office with her head held high.

He didn't leave her side. She'd joked about letting her off the leash to go to the ladies' room, but when he'd asked her awkwardly and with a bright red face, if in fact she needed assistance with "those sort of things", she was speechless. She didn't find her words until she discovered the extent he would go through to baby her.

Hardy had outdone himself. At first, it escaped Ellie's astute observation that Nish was using the ladies every time she was. She had to give it to her DS. She'd been stealthy.

It took Ellie a couple of days to figure out that it wasn't coincidence that she was bumping into Nish as soon as it took her more than two seconds to come back. Eventually, she cornered the poor woman and was mortified to learn how crafty Hardy had been.

It took Hardy a couple of days to recover from the shit storm she had unleashed upon him after Nish's confession. It also gave him two days to come up with a new shit plan to drive her up the wall. Which he was trying to execute at the moment.

"Hardy, if you don't give me back my car keys immediately, I'm not only going to piss in a cup and throw it at you, but do something much worse," Ellie hissed.

"Miller, you shouldn't be driving," he stated calmly, holding the keys out of her reach.

"You're not serious?" she growled and resisted the urge to jump for the dangling shiny object in front of her.

"Dead serious," he emphasized.

"Mum, just let him drive you. I'm going to be late for school," Tom hollered from the kitchen.

"Stay out of this, Tom!" Ellie admonished her son who poked his head out the door, half a piece of toast in his mouth. He and Hardy exchanged a meaningful glance which was the final straw for Ellie.

"That's it, Hardy. Get out of my house and stop fussing," she yelled and moved to shove Hardy out the door.

For a skinny fellow like him he was surprisingly sturdy. Ellie leaned in with all her weight, breathing in the salt and ocean scent that had been gradually taking over the soap and citrus that usually lingered around him.

His hands landed on her shoulders, and he gently pushed her away from him.

"Miller, look at me," he demanded.

Reluctantly, she lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"When I got ill, one of the hardest things I had to give up was driving. My doctor told me right from the start, but I was stubborn about it. Until the day I nearly killed Daisy and myself in an accident because I had an attack while taking her to school. It didn't feel good to say the least. I don't want you to have to go through that."

He took her hand, placed the car keys in her palm, and gently closed her fingers around them. A shy smile flicked over his face, crinkling up the corners of his eyes.

"I trust you to do the right thing. Bob is coming by to pick you up if you want to."

"Why can't you drive us?" she wanted to know. His heart was fixed; no reason for him to be afraid of getting in a car.

"I don't drive if I don't have to. It's the sensible thing to do. And I certainly don't want to be behind the wheel with you and the boys in the car. I've learned my lesson."

They were standing in the same spot where two years ago she'd thrown her car keys at him, screaming that she hoped he'd crash and have a heart attack. It hurt to realize how desperate he must have been to dare drive in a state that must have affected his heart at the time.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

His eyebrows pulled into a frown. "What for?"

"That I told you to crash and have a heart attack."

A faint blush colored his pale face. His hands dropped from her shoulders and found their way into his trouser pockets. He didn't look away though.

"'S all right. Was quite the arse myself that day."

He pulled out his hand and brushed his fingers over Ellie's cast.

"It's my fault that you got hurt. The least I can do is to make sure nothing worse happens. One car accident is enough, even if it was only toy cars. It was my mistake."

The puzzle pieces fell into place. Ellie berated herself that it hadn't clicked earlier. Of course he'd try to take responsibility for something he had no part in.

"Hardy, you overcompensate. You gave Fred those cars but that doesn't mean-"

"Ellie, I put them there," he cut her off.

"What?"

He tugged on his ear lobe. "When I was babysitting Fred the day before the lunch, we had a car tea party."

"A car tea party?"

"Yup. I had told him about the dinosaur tea parties I used to have with Daisy, so he wanted to do one with the…"

He trailed off when Ellie's snigger grew louder.

"A tea party? You? With dinosaurs?"

"Oh, shut up," he growled, rolling his eyes. Then he squinted at her and pointed his index finger at her nose.

"If you dare tell anyone at work about this, I'll make you chase after Nige for the rest of the year."

Ellie wrapped her fingers around his and resolutely pushed his hand out of her face. She held on to the finger, and grinning broadly, she retorted, "Not a very effective threat, considering I'm already doing that as payback for referring me to Geena."

Hardy paled. "Ellie, please," he begged.

She was about to counter when Tom's breaking teenage voice reminded her that they were not alone.

"Will the two of you stop flirting and get me to school?"

Two pairs of eyes fixed on Tom.

"What?" he questioned with feigned innocence.

"Tom, we're not…," Hardy stammered, "… doing that."

"No. We're not," Ellie hurried to confirm. She surreptitiously withdrew her fingers that were laced into Hardy's.

"Right," Tom sighed, exasperated by the adults. "I'm gonna walk," he announced, snatched up his skateboard, and shoved his way past a flustered Hardy.

Fred thudded down the stairs. "What's flirting, Hadee?"

Hardy closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against them. A pained groan worked its way out from deep inside his chest.

"A grown up thing that we were most definitely not doing," he pressed through gritted teeth.

Fred eyed him curiously. "Is it the grown up name for holding hands? 'cos you and Mummy were doing that."

Hardy hurriedly shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, and Ellie hid her healthy arm behind her back. He shot her a desperate glance, begging to be rescued from Fred's inquisitive mind. Ellie had no urge to do so, enjoying the show in front of her.

"No, wee Fred," Hardy sighed. Redness had crept from his ears to his cheeks.

"Okay. So what is it then?"

Fred wasn't one to give up easily. Once his inquisitive brain had latched onto something, he needed to know. There was no escape for the squirming Hardy.

"It's when you…" – Hardy struggled for words and faltered. His gaze darted to Ellie and his Adam's apple jumped up and down. "Honestly Fred, I'm useless at it." He caught sight of Ellie's wide grin and added hastily, "Useless at explaining, I mean."

Ellie snorted a chuckle.

"Thanks, Miller," he hissed.

A honk outside announced Bob's arrival, and Hardy sighed in relief.

"Saved by the bell," Ellie said with a smirk and ushered Fred to put on his shoes.

Hardy didn't dignify her with a reply. Instead he snatched her coat from the rack and helped her into it. He had already taken possession of her purse before she could even reach for it and slung it over his shoulder to free up his hands for Fred's backpack and lunch box.

"You should accessorize more, Hardy," Ellie quipped. "It suits you well."

He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes widening, but he kept his mouth shut. Fred had run outside, excited about the ride in the police car. Hardy stormed after him, loaded with the various bags of the Miller family.

Ellie traipsed after him, planning her next move. When he opened the door for her, she couldn't hold back any longer.

"You know, it could have been worse. He could have asked you about sex."

His eyes widened in horror. She savored the moment before she dropped the bomb.

"Maybe you're better at that. Explaining I mean."

Hardy choked on a cough and dropped her purse that he was about to hand her. Ellie flashed him the most flirtatious smile she was able to muster, gracefully picked up her purse, and climbed into the car. His mouth still gaped open when Bob closed the door behind her.

"Sir, are you coming?" Bob asked.

Hardy stared blankly ahead. "No. I need a walk," he mumbled and thrust his hands through his windblown hair. Without another word he stalked off toward the field.

Ellie's lips curled up in a satisfied grin. Hardy might be rubbish at flirting, but she wasn't.

Hardy refrained from going directly to the police station. His feet took him to the pier, longing for the cold autumn breeze to cool him off and for the solitude to settle his thoughts.

He replayed the exchange in the driveway over and over again, flummoxed by Miller's not so subtle innuendo. Simply imagining facing her again heated up his cheeks despite the icy wind blowing through his hair. He kicked listlessly at a rock and missed.

"Bloody hell," he growled.

A mocking caw at his ankle tore him away from ideas he shouldn't entertain. The beady eyed seagull blinked at him and cocked its head. It took a lopsided leap closer to him and called out again.

Hardy stared at the plump ball of feathers and disease.

It took another hop and pecked at his trousers.

"What the…," he squeaked, utterly unmanly, and jumped a foot back.

The seagull followed him, red-rimmed eyes fixed on his leg. Hardy squinted down his trousers and found what had attracted the devilish bird's interest. Unbeknownst to Hardy, half of Fred's muffin was sticking to the cloth covering his shin. That solved the mystery where it had disappeared to during the morning's breakfast commotion.

"Oh, for God's sake," he cursed, shaking his leg without much success.

"Still using the name of the Lord in vain, aren't we, DCI Hardy?"

Hardy froze. Groaning, he said, "At least I'm using it, unlike so many others of your flock."

The seagull used the opportunity to pick at his trousers again. Cornered by the ferocious bird and the feisty vicar, with the foaming sea behind him, Hardy was vividly reminded of all the things he had hated about Broadchurch. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he sank down onto a bench.

"I should never have come," he muttered, dragging his hands over his face.

"Oh, come on. It's only a bird, Detective. I'm sure you've tackled more fearsome adversaries."

Hardy hid behind his palms. "If you say so."

The vicar took a seat next to him, blocking the harsh wind that was tugging on Hardy's thin suit jacket. Hardy's body was grateful for the moment of reprieve from the cold autumn breeze.

"I hear you've been helping Ellie."

Hardy cast a sideways glance at Paul who sat there, not giving away what might be going on behind those green eyes.

"Aye."

Hardy was unwilling to reveal more. He was sure that Miller's comment would make its way around town with lightning speed. Heat rose to his cheeks.

"Did you two-"

"If you dare ask if we had an affair, I don't guarantee anything," Hardy hissed, turning to shut him up with a deathly glare.

"Fair enough," Paul conceded, not buckling under Hardy's intense eyes.

Hardy hadn't seen the vicar since he'd come back to Broadchurch. His new position had kept him too busy to seek him out. One question had been burning on his mind ever since he had found out who had set up Joe Miller in Sheffield.

"Speaking of which. Why did you help Joe Miller?" Hardy demanded to know.

Paul blinked. "How do you know about that?"

"Doesn't concern you. Again, why did you assist a child murderer to run?" His tone was getting sharper.

Paul shuffled away from Hardy. "I didn't assist a murderer but my community."

"Horseshit!" Hardy shouted against the wind, leaning closer to Paul. "You were visiting him in prison. What the hell was that about?"

Paul paled. "I thought he was repentant. I was wrong. I stopped seeing him when he plead not guilty."

"And you want me to believe that?"

"You can believe whatever you want. I know what I did and how I followed the Lord's path. When Joe came to seek refuge in the church, I sinned, Hardy. I didn't grant him shelter. I ratted him out."

Hardy frowned. What was Paul going on about? His skilled mind filled in the gaps.

'It has been dealt with.'

A shiver ran down his spine. The thought of Ellie facing Joe, driving him out of their home town was making him sick.

"To whom?" he asked cautiously, unsure if he wanted to know in the end.

"Mark and Nige grabbed him from the church. They brought him to the cliff top hut. I don't know what happened inside, but Beth and Ellie spoke to him. After that, we sent him on his way to Sheffield."

Hardy's knuckles had turned white under his grip of the edge of the bench. That bloody woman. Pride and anger over her audacious behavior warred in him. Anger won, but only out of worry over that fierce woman who didn't seem to care about what happened to her in order to keep her loved ones safe.

"What if they'd killed him, Coates? Had you thought about that?" Hardy snarled, imagining himself arresting half the town.

"Yes. I had."

Their eyes met.

"Don't give me that look, Hardy. I know you've taken a life to protect your family."

It was Hardy's turn to lose all color. His throat closed off, and he had to swallow a few times before he was able to speak.

"That's none of your business."

He prayed to Paul's God to make his servant stop. As usual, his prayers were not answered.

"That incident in Glasg-"

"No. Don't go there. Please," Hardy begged, his eyes stinging.

The fury that had been rushing through him a few heartbeats ago was washed away by desperation. His past was behind him, and he fervently desired it to stay that way.

The vicar tilted his head and searched Hardy's face. "It still weighs on you, even after all those years."

"How could it not?" Hardy breathed, slumping back on the bench.

He absentmindedly peeled off the piece of muffin on his trousers and tossed it toward the seagull. The bird darted for it and made off with his feast. Hardy's eyes followed the bird into the never-ending sky. It dizzied him and he dropped his gaze. The face of a little boy, crying and screaming for his father, swam across Hardy's blurry vision.

"Did you ever see the child again?"

Hardy licked his dry lips. "I kept track of him at first, then I lost him in the system. Last I heard was that he got adopted."

"You did it to protect your family." Paul's hand came to rest on Hardy's shoulder.

'Anyone could kill under the right circumstances.'

Miller had accused him of those words being a shit philosophy. They were not. He'd been forced to take the life of a violent and heinous criminal, but at the same time he took the life of a father of an eight-year-old boy. To save his wife and unborn child. Not one day went by that he didn't ask himself if there had been a different way. He would never know, but at the same time, he was also certain he'd do it again.

"Why did you say you shouldn't have come? I doubt you were referring to your little squabble with the seagull." Curiosity lightened the vicar's tone.

"What is this now? Confession to go?" Hardy snapped, not in the mood for further soul-searching with the local clergyman.

Or himself for the matter.

Paul raised an eyebrow. "You seemed troubled. I'm simply offering my help as I would to any member of my community."

"I'm not part of your community," Hardy protested sharply.

The corner of Paul's mouth pulled up. "You might be a keen observer when it comes to your work, DCI Hardy, but not so much when it comes to yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Paul chortled and patted him on the knee. "You came back to be the guardian of this community. Your home on the cliff watches over the town, just like the church does. You're invited to Sunday lunch and entrusted with the children. You're part of Broadchurch now."

Hardy gaped at him.

"And if I'm not mistaken, you don't mind," Paul ended his speech quietly.

Hardy stared at the jam and butter stain on his suit trousers. Wild brown curls and crows of happiness dispersed the dreary images of his past. He rubbed at the greasy spot and confessed, "No. I don't."

He looked up, puckering his lips. "Still don't like seagulls though."

Paul smirked. "I'll let you in on a secret. Neither do I."

The two men laughed, united in their dislike for the birds of the sea and their pledge to watch over the community.

Only when he got up did Hardy note they'd been sitting on the very bench he and Miller had been occupying when he'd encouraged Miller to stay in Broadchurch and he'd invited her to his house to share a meal with him. He brushed his fingers over the weathered wood. It was oddly comforting, a piece of his past that for once could also be a part of his future.

"I really don't mind," he repeated to himself, crinkles budding around his eyes and a smile parting his lips that hadn't left him when he strode into the station to begin a new day.

A/N: It's official – I'm total shipper trash now… I've gone off the deep end… (and for those who wonder if I have been replaced with an alien imposter – I can't tell you).

A couple of notes… the story of Hardy taking a life to safe Tess and his unborn child while in Glasgow as a young DS is part of my head canon for my saga "A Million Holes" and "The Ocean Breathes Salty". And although this Hardy is not entirely the same I can't completely divorce myself from the past that I have created for him. So here and there, things will find their way into this story and I hope you don't mind. If you want to know more about that case in Glasgow, it's featured in Part 2 of "A Million Holes". Also, poor Alec encounters an old nemesis – the seagulls. There's a little story about that too. ;)