Disclaimer: I do not own the copyright for Waking the dead or its characters – all rights belong to the BBC

Content: Heartache, angst, friendship

Rating T

Thank you everyone who has read so far and left reviews. I really appreciate it. Hopefully I am learning as I go and you enjoy this next chapter. Some of you will notice that I have borrowed some dialogue from Double Bind … hope you & the writers don't mind. Again all feedback is welcome. Thank you for reading. x

Beyond Grace

Chapter 2

The familiar reality of his surroundings began to fill him with panic. The team would be arriving soon and Boyd didn't want to be here with they did. He didn't have the strength to stand before them look them in the face, and attempt to explain the unexplainable. They would be seeking answers and he had none, seeking comfort and how could he offer any comfort to them when he himself was completely void of it. Sighing heavily he wiped his eyes with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory of the aftermath of Mel's death swamped him. He had been so useless. In order to hold himself together he had to block out her death less it would have destroyed him. The team had wanted to talk about it, but he couldn't allow himself to go there, he knew the consequences would be too great, too dark. Instead they thought him to be completely hard hearted. If only they knew the real truth, the guilt he carried. How a day never passed when he didn't blame himself and that her memory didn't haunt him. Such a waste of life. Grace was the only one who dared confront him with it. She had told him in no uncertain terms that he was not behaving well.

"You're in denial, its making you ill" Boyd felt his stomach lurch as he recalled the bitter argument that followed, neither of them holding back.

"You never come up with anything concrete, anything real Grace. It's all hocus pocus, you're a clairvoyant, you need a fricking crystal ball" he spat.

"Real…. You want me to be real"

"Oh yes please …. What's holding you back" he dared her.

"You are ill Boyd, you have totally failed to deal with your grief and your guilt and it's making you ill. You are repressed, depressed and in denial. Everybody that comes into contact with you has to deal with that. THAT'S why you are alone Boyd. You are isolated and unloved. How does that feel?" He could tell by the look on Grace's face she regretted going there the moment the words had left her lips.

Boyd grimaced at the memory. Alone, isolated, unloved. Her words had pierced deep into his being. "Oh Grace" he sighed. He knew even back then that she had been right, he was in denial. But hearing her spit out those words had hurt him so much that he retaliated in the only manner he knew how by lashing out. In that moment he wanted to hurt her as much as she was hurting him. He knew that it had gone too far but she had wounded him with truth and he defended himself with venomous unmeant words.

Boyd carefully picked up the photograph and returned it into the envelope inserting it into the inside of his suit jacket pocket. He leant down and quickly scribbled 'Spence – at meetings all day, won't be back'. He knew that if he told him he was in meetings he wouldn't be disturbed. As he placed the note on the desk of his young DI he glanced towards Grace's office. He couldn't imagine not seeing her there hunched over the desk, glasses perched on the end of her nose, with her head stuck in some report or other. It seemed so meaningless.

The cold air was a welcome relief as he walked towards his car. Instinctively he found himself driving in the direction of Grace's house. He could look around, see if he could find anything that might lead them too her. At least that is what he told himself. The truth was he simply just wanted to feel close to her. The car pulled into the drive of her semi and he walked up the gravel path, round the back of the house to the garden immediately heading towards a large clay plant pot to the left of the door, that proudly displayed her clematis. He bent over and lifted it slightly revealing the key that was hidden underneath.

"Seriously Grace, you really need to catch a grip! Anyone could find this here"

"Boyd" her voice elongating his name "This job has made you so untrusting. Why would anyone want to get into my house? What could they possible steal that is of any worth?"

"Grace that's not the point ….."

"Leave me alone!" Grace threw him a don't mess with me look. "Isn't it just as well I did otherwise we'd be standing outside all night or at least until you put your flaming big size 10's through my door. The only people who know about this are you and me. Now are you coming in or not?"

"Impossible woman!" Boyd muttered

"What was that?" Grace turn to look at him as she put her key in the door.

"I said hold on I'm coming." his eyes glinting as he flashed her a smile. She had known exactly what he had said and it prompted her to shake her head with a laugh.

As Boyd put the key in the lock the memory of her laugh was so clear he could swear he still heard it echoing with the wind.

The door led directly into her kitchen, a scene he had seen many times before. Nothing appeared to be disturbed. A coffee cup sat at the edge of the sink waiting to be washed and there was a newspaper spread open on the table in front of him. Boyd checked the date, Saturday 30th April 2011. Two days ago. Looking around he searched his memory, everything looked to be just as it was, so much so he almost expected her to walk in at any minute with a confused look on her face asking what the hell he thought he was doing.

As he wandered around the rest of the house her familiar scent filled every room. He found it strangely comforting. Many times he had sat across a desk from her inhaling the intoxicating fragrance. He liked the smell, it was her. He had even bought her another bottle for her birthday. Now that same scent was giving him a sense of normality in the chaos raging through his mind.

He climbed the stairs and checked every room for some sort of clue as to what had happened in Grace's final hours but everything was just as she had left it. He purposefully left her bedroom to last. As he turned the handle to enter he felt that he was somehow intruding into her personal sanctuary. The bright bedroom, like the rest of the house, remained untouched. Her bed perfectly made with crisp white linen bordered with a floral design. It was so Grace he thought as he sat on the edge of the bed. He wasn't quite sure why he had, except his legs seemed to have released themselves of any strength contained in them. He lifted her pillow and held it close to him breathing in the familiar scent. Closing his eyes he tried hard to still the storm raging within him. He needed to find clarity in the midst of it. Clarity to find the words he needed to break this to the team. Clarity to see a way forward. But more pressing and more importantly, clarity to find who took Grace from them.

TBC