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Lindsay James hadn't been hers to protect. Not when she really needed it anyway. And for all Rachel was attempting to help now, she didn't think it was making much of a difference, not when the girl was broken down and pouring her heart out on a school field long after she should have been able to go home to a loving family and a father who wasn't a monster.

Rachel didn't really think about messaging Eddie to meet her in the pub as she walked towards the door, doing so almost on autopilot. Heartsick over the confession Lindsay had just made, she barely remembered the drive from school, and quickly sent a second message to Eddie that she probably wasn't going to be in any condition to drive so not to bother bringing his car.

Chris looked up as she walked in, immediately frowning when he saw how pale and drawn she was. He rose, meeting her at the bar. "What's wrong? What happened?"

She shook her head, signalling the bartender. "Shot of vodka please."

Chris's eyes widened, and only grew wider when she downed it and immediately ordered another. "Rachel?"

"Her dad was abusing her as well," she said softly, not looking at him as she threw that shot back as well.

"Abusing as in…?"

"Worse than what you're thinking."

"Christ."

She gripped the bar, head ducked as her stomach rolled in a way that had nothing to do with the vodka. She felt his hand on her elbow, allowed him to guide her to a table where she finally looked at him, noticing he now looked as sick as she felt. "What did she say?"

She hesitated, before telling him the basics. He would have to know anyway, eventually. He was silent, before without warning he rose to his feet. "I'll get us a round." She knew the feeling. She barely moved, waited for the shakiness in her limbs to subside as she tried to ignore the sounds around her, struggled not to grow irritated with the laughter and joy she could hear.

Chris handed her a glass- her usual, she noted absently- and she immediately took a mouthful, grateful that Chris was here but very much wanting to curl up and cry for the unfairness of it all. "I just did not see that coming," she murmured. "Had absolutely no idea."

He looked at her sympathetically. "How could you?" he pointed out, and that didn't make it any easier, she thought. "So what happens now?"

"I call the designated officer in the morning, I guess." She felt her stomach drop at the thought, and then something else occurred to her. "Lindsay's going to have to be interviewed. There's going to be a medical examination, as if she hasn't been through enough."

"And what about Emily? Was she…?" he looked at her hesitatingly.

"It was just Lindsay as far as I can establish." But horror ran through her as his questioned triggered another realisation. "Emily will be interviewed too, won't she? Just to make sure." She wanted to bury her face in her hands. "What that's going to do to her, I do not know- she worshipped her dad."

He winced. "When all this comes out in the trial…"

"It certainly impacts on the case," she acknowledged, and resisted the impulse to down her glass. "I just wish she'd felt she could talk to me sooner. Or that I'd sussed it out. I missed all the signs."

"We all did."

She thought that was supposed to comfort her, but instead it only made her feel worse. Five classes a day, five times a week, plus twice a day form time and the times she herself had met with the girls- at least forty occasions someone could have seen something was wrong, and that was just since term started. If it had been going on since she was eleven…

Now, she did pick up her drink again.

Chris watched her, felt a flicker of concern. "Are you going to get home alright?"

A bitter smile twisted her lips. "Really Chris, I've done half a bottle of vodka in the past and still been coherent. This will barely touch me. Besides, Eddie's coming to meet me."

A flicker of something flashed across his expression, and she realised that was the first time she'd ever mentioned Eddie so blasély, and certainly to Chris. For a moment, she pondered trying to fathom out whatever he'd just felt, but quickly decided she didn't have the energy nor the inclination.

She leant back, toying with her empty glass. "How does anyone live with what she's going to have to live with?"

"I have no idea."

She hadn't looked up when the door opened- it was a pub, after all. But the view of someone walking directly towards them caught her eye and she automatically glanced up, smiling weakly when she saw a concerned-looking Eddie heading towards her.

"You got here quick," she commented, rising to greet him with a chaste kiss.

"I was already in town when I got your message. Hello." He was looking at Chris, a polite smile on his face.

"Chris, this is Eddie, whom I'm sure Steph has told you all about." Her tone was bone dry. "Eddie, Chris Meade, my deputy."

"Nice to finally meet you."

"And you."

Chris's voice was positively frosty, and Rachel shot him an odd look but Eddie payed him no attention, already turning back to Rachel. Anyone could have seen the pinched look around her eyes, and he allowed the backs of his fingers to brush hers. "How bad?"

She loved that he knew her that well. "The best thing I can say about it is that nobody died."

"Well…" Chris raised a pointed eyebrow, and she groaned, hands scrubbing over her face. Lindsay's father had died, although that little fact didn't have quite the same meaning as it did yesterday. Eddie looked alarmed, glancing between the two.

"What the hell happened?"

Before Rachel could start explaining, Chris shoved to his feet. "I should go."

His boss looked surprised. "Chris…"

"I'll see you tomorrow." He pointedly looked at her and not Eddie, before walking away towards the door.

"What's his problem?" he heard Eddie ask.

"I have no idea."

Hand on the door handle, he risked a glance backwards- the couple were sat at the table he'd just vacated, chairs moved so that they were closer together. Rachel had her head ducked down as she spoke, but from his viewpoint Chris could see how Eddie had his hands wrapped around hers, listening intently. Rachel shuddered suddenly and the other man instantly shifted closer, tucking her hair back as he murmured something to her.

Chris frowned, quickly looking away and wrenching the door open.

Rachel and Eddie didn't notice his exit but weren't far behind him- as soon as they'd both finished their drinks, Rachel could no longer bear to be in the atmosphere of the pub, and they were quickly in a taxi home. She held herself stiffly, arms half wrapped around herself as she stared out the window.

She wouldn't seek comfort, Eddie knew, not while she was in this mood. He gave it anyway, wrapping an arm around her to pull her against his side and she resisted for only a moment, before caving in and resting against him.

"How does a child survive that?" she asked in a whisper, eyes still fixed on some unseen spot beyond the car. He rested his cheek against her head.

"I don't know."

The house was dark and almost too quiet; Rachel had never been so grateful. She didn't say a word as she walked through the house, pulled a bottle of vodka from the cupboard and poured herself a healthy glass before offering it silently to Eddie. He hesitated, just long enough for her to give up and place it on the counter instead.

He slid his jacket off and slung it over a stool, and in that time watched her down her drink and pour another, not even wincing at the burn of the alcohol. "Rach?" he questioned softly, and she tossed back that glass as well.

"I'm not in the mood."

She sounded so defeated, so hopeless that he almost flinched. She reached for the bottle again, but his hand on hers stopped her from lifting it. "Sweetheart, that's not a good idea."

Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do!" she hissed. "Hypocrite! How much did you rink after Lacey?" Part of her was hoping he would snap back, give her a reason to scream and shout at him but instead he stepped forward, pushed the bottle out of reach and simply enfolded her into his arms. "Get off me!" She fought against him, but he didn't yield and as quickly as she'd started, she stopped, sagging against him.

"It's okay," he murmured, rocking her slightly and felt her arms slide around him.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he repeated, pressing a kiss to her hair. "You're fine."

She closed her eyes and pressed her face against him, breathing deeply. For a long minute, neither moved, the only sound in the room the faint ticking of the clock. Eventually, however, Eddie shifted to look at her. "What do you need?"

She didn't even attempt to smile as she drew back to look at him properly, fingertips trailing over his cheek. "Just you."

"You have me."

Her expression softened into something he couldn't define, but she stretched up to kiss him softly, hand cupping his face. Despite the situation, warmth spread through him at the feel of her lips on his. Her breath caught, eyes meeting his as they drew back and he couldn't help reaching out to brush a lock of her hair from her face. Before he knew it, her lips were on his again, moving slowly at first but gradually increasing in urgency as one hand threaded through his hair and the other wrapped around to anchor her to him.

Her touch became harder, more insistent and of course he knew what she wanted, under any other circumstance wouldn't hesitate in agreeing. But tonight, he drew back, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

"Eddie, please…"

The soft plea broke his heart. "It's okay," he murmured. "Let me look after you."

He saw the confusion in her eyes, swooped back down to brush his lips sweetly against hers. He silently entwined their fingers, led them upstairs and uncharacteristically Rachel allowed him control. His touches were soft, movements slow as for the first time since they'd reconnected, they allowed the heat between them to build slowly, simmering below the surface even as Eddie carefully guided her back onto the bed, choosing to lay beside her.

Rachel couldn't help but swallow nervously as Eddie looked at her with raw emotion, an openness she wasn't used to. He must have noticed, because he raised her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss to her palm. "Let me look after you," he repeated, and after a few heart-stopping moments, she slowly nodded her agreement. He smiled.

This was different, Rachel knew as her jacket was slipped from her shoulders. This had a different undertone, a whole different set of emotions involved that had her stomach knotting and her heartrate accelerating, the fact that it was Eddie beside her the only reason she didn't follow her instincts and run away.

It would only be much, much later, in the encompassing darkness of her bedroom, just as they were falling asleep that she would realise the hollow grief that had been clogging her throat since the afternoon was no longer present.

W.R.

The next day, Rachel had a less-than-pleasant morning writing up safeguarding notes, calling various social workers and finally having an almost painful meeting with Vicki and her father, all of which culminated in her being in a positively unpleasant mood. Which is why when she saw Chris ahead of her in the corridor and called out to update him on what was going on, her tone was slightly sharper than it would have otherwise been.

"Thanks Rachel. And ... I am sorry about everything yesterday."

"Speaking of yesterday..." her gaze turned piercing. "What was last night about?"

"Last night?"

"With Eddie in the pub. You were barely this side of polite- what's going on?"

"Nothing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well obviously not. You don't even know him, what on Earth could he have done to make you dislike him?"

She saw a range of emotions flash across his face for a second, before his expression carefully blanked. "I don't-,"

"Something Steph said?" Bingo, she thought, seeing the expression on his face. "What did she tell you?"

He shrugged. "Just what had gone on last year."

"Well, I might remind you she doesn't actually know the full story. No one else does."

"So he didn't get your sister pregnant?" he challenged and she raised an eyebrow, tone cool.

"No, actually."

He instantly deflated. "Oh."

"Lovely to see you think so much of me, Chris."

He winced. "I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did. You're a good deputy, and a good friend Chris but I do not need you attempting to interfere in my personal life, and certainly not passing judgment on it."

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft, face apologetic and she felt her anger die, sighing.

"For the record, my sister did have a baby, but she isn't Eddie's. Do me a favour and let Steph know, would you? If she's going to gossip it might as well be accurate."

His mouth dropped open slightly but she was already walking away, lost in thoughts of the pile of paperwork that awaited her. He stood where he was for a few moments, surprised until he caught a hold of himself and with a mental shake, headed to the staffroom.

It took less than half an hour for him to break and reveal to Steph what Rachel had told him. The blonde didn't believe him at first, demanding he tell her how he knew and once he'd explained the entire story, she looked stunned. "Bloody hell! I don't think anyone saw that coming!"

"Saw what coming?" Max asked as he entered, Kim close behind him.

"Rachel's sister's baby isn't Eddie's!" Steph's voice was loud enough to carry across the room, where a good portion of the staff were gathered.

Kim's jaw dropped. "Steph!"

"What? Chris just told me!"

"Chris!"

"Rachel told me to tell her," he defended, and got several peculiar looks. "She said if Steph was going to talk about her, what she was saying might as well be right."

Steph looked a bit disgruntled at that, but couldn't deny it. Kim just looked cross. "How about we all stop talking about our boss's personal life?"

For the first time, Grantley looked up from his newspaper. "Best idea I've heard all day."

W.R.

It was late in the afternoon when Eddie pulled up outside Rachel's house, relieved when he saw her car parked up. She wasn't expecting him, but he found that he couldn't quite face the thought of leaving her alone.

To his surprise, she merely smiled knowingly when she opened the door. "I thought I might be seeing you."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Only to me."

She returned to her spot on the sofa she'd just got up from, curling her legs underneath her. Eddie paused in the doorway, uncomfortably reminded of the last time he'd found her in this position, chocolate beside her, wine in hand and the tv playing something she'd never admit to watching. Swallowing thickly, he lowered himself next to her. "How was your day?"

"I had Lindsay's sister in my office for an hour, sobbing uncontrollably." Her voice was oddly numb.

"She found out?"

"That's just it." Now, she looked around at him, a bitter look on her face. "She has no idea yet. Her aunt and social worker thought it best to wait to tell her."

He was silent for a long moment as he processed that. "Those poor girls."

She rested her head on her hand, leant against the back of the sofa. "It never gets any easier."

"You've been through this before?"

His voice was coloured with surprise and sympathy. For a long moment, she hesitated, before nodding. "Haven't you?"

He shook his head. "Safeguarding concerns, sure. But I've never had a child admit anything to me."

"I have," she murmured, eyes unfocused. "The first was a boy in my form group. I'd only been qualified a year. He came in one day black and blue- I held him back and eventually he told me his father had beat him for some imagined infraction, but not to worry because he'd deserved it. Social services refused to remove him from the house because there wasn't enough evidence."

"What?"

"He ran away a few months later. He was in juvie last I heard, although he'll be an adult now." She looked sad, fiddling with the necklace she wore. "Then there was a girl, a few years later at a different school. I found her, completely hysterical. She told me she had a boyfriend, who was older. She thought they were in love and he told her people in love have sex. She hadn't wanted to, and he'd been so rough he'd actually injured her- I sat with her in the hospital for hours. She begged us not to tell her parents."

Eddie felt sick. "What happened?"

"She was only fifteen, under the age of consent and the hospital called the police. Her parents had withdrawn her from school before the end of the week. I never found out what happened."

He couldn't stop himself for reaching for her, a hand slipping around hers, trying to provide comfort he knew no one could probably give. "It's hard remembering that we can't fix everything," he said softly, and she had to swallow past the lump in her throat.

"Yes it is."

She untucked her legs and moved to curl up next to him instead, having to resist the urge to just bury her face against his shoulder and forget about the world. "How was your day?"

He debated being honest (it had been awful) before finally deciding on bending the truth (telling her only the not-so-bad bits) and launched into a vaguely amusing story involving an innovative year eight and the canteen at lunchtime, which segued into what his bored year elevens had done in class that day. He could feel Rachel relaxing against him, even smiling faintly at some of the more amusing parts.

From her position against him, Rachel could feel the rumbling of his voice as he spoke, one of his hands interlinked with hers and she closed her eyes briefly, suddenly overwhelming grateful that he was here beside her. Doing this alone would have been unpleasant at best, she recognised, and for the first time she found that she didn't care how they'd gotten here, only that they had.