"Chapter 13"

A/N: We're going to a dark place with this chapter. Alec's not in a good headspace right now. Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts. Yes. I'm really going there.

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The phone was ringing. Startled out of his sleep Alec blindly fumbled for the sound of its insistent buzzing, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. It was late, maybe early morning, and he hadn't gotten near enough sleep yet. But instantly he felt wide awake—there was only one person who would possibly be calling him at this ungodly hour; he didn't even glance at the caller i.d. before he answered.

"Yeah?"

For a long moment there was no answer, and he wondered if maybe this was just a dream. Just as he was prepared to hang up and go back to sleep, he heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Dad."

His chest tightened. "Daisy, sweetheart." He tried but he couldn't quite keep the crack from his voice as he called her by name. Panic was suddenly threatening to claw its way up his throat. What had he been thinking, calling his daughter like this?

Daisy may not have spoken with him for a month or so but she was still smart. She caught his mood immediately, even over the phone. "Dad?" she said again. "What is it? You didn't sound quite right in your message."

How do you explain to your child you're dying?

For a long moment his voice was frozen, all traces of sleepiness well and truly gone now; his heartbeat was thumping painfully but he still felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Would you be willing to come to Broadchurch for a few days?" They were the first words he was able to force through his fear and he was taken aback by them.

"I have school, Dad." Her voice was dripping with a teenager sneer, clearly wondering why her parents could be so slow sometimes.

"Please, Daisy." He was begging her now but he was beyond the point of caring. Again he floundered; abruptly he wished that Ellie was there with him to give him some support, even if it was only her standing and listening. Her hand to hold would be good too. "It wouldn't be more than a week at most—" He almost choked on the words he was forced to say.

"Tell me what's going on or I won't come." There it was, the ultimatum. He should have remembered it would come sooner or later.

What could he possibly tell her over the phone? He swallowed on a dry throat. "Remember when I had that- that accident a couple years ago?" It had been a weekend morning and he had stood up too quickly; all he remembered about it was his vision clouding over and the sensation of falling. Then a harsh pain on the back of his head had abruptly brought him back to his senses—he had passed out and hit the very edge of the bathroom doorframe. Daisy had been in the kitchen eating breakfast and had practically fallen over herself to reach him, terrified by his fall. Tess had not been there, luckily, off on a job with the Department and Alec had sworn his daughter to secrecy, terrified of being found out and losing his position with the police. At that point he had already begun to suspect something was wrong and had been secretly going to a doctor for testing, keeping his suspicions very carefully to himself until it was confirmed. He had hoped to get something done about his arrhythmia when it first started but then Sandbrook had happened and he had found out about Tess's affair and he had never gotten anything done.

Daisy clearly remembered that day because her voice shifted. "Are you okay?"

He swallowed again, trying to fight the lump forming in his throat. "No." The confession cost him; there could be no hiding the tremor in his voice, and he knew that Daisy would hear it.

There was a long silence on her end of the phone and if he could label it, it would have been 'horrified'. To her credit there was no admonitions of being 'soppy'. "I'll be there this evening. It is morning, right?" There was the sound of sheets; she was shifting in her bed to catch a glimpse of her clock. "Yeah, it's one-thirty. I'll be on the train as soon as I pack." He could already hear her moving. "I'll call you when I'm on the train, yeah?"

He nodded, then realized that she couldn't see him. "Yes."

He waited until she hung up; dropping his phone he hid his face in the pillows and desperately wished this was all just an awful dream.

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He had drowsed for a couple hours following his call with Daisy but their conversation had effectively killed any hopes for actual sleep; at three forty-three he dragged himself out from underneath the blankets and made his way to the bathroom to get a shower. Ellie was still asleep, as were Tom and Fred when he looked in on them.

He made the water as hot as he could stand it; his heart was jumping again, more and more painfully as the days went on, and he waited until the mirror was fogged up before he stepped into the shower to give it time to even out. It was becoming harder to ignore, though, the feeling of vertigo that was with him all the time now and he had never felt this sort of exhaustion before. Even during Danny's case his arrhythmia hadn't been this bad. The water felt wonderful against his skin and he found himself nearly beneath its flow before he completely realized he was.

He always felt cold now, no matter how many blankets he had piled up. It was to be expected, the doctors had told him before he left the hospital. They had gone on to explain in horribly stale technical terms that had frankly scared him of what would happen and why it was important he came back to the hospital when things deteriorated too far—to which he had said in no uncertain terms that they could stick their advice up their arses. He wasn't going to die in the hospital.

Stepping back he let the water fill his cupped hands, contemplating the falling water drops. How quickly would it take someone to drown? He knew that it only took a little bit of water down the right area to start it…

Abruptly he came back to himself and let his hands fall, letting out a shuddering gasp. He was trembling suddenly, colder than he had been even a moment before.

What the hell was happening to him?

He turned the water off and stepped out on shaky legs, terrified. Trapped. That was how he felt. Helpless, but this was unlike anything he had ever felt before because this was him going through it.

His skin was still damp, the air humid from the heat of the shower, but he slid his clothes on and went out into the hallway, barely remembering to shut the light off as he did so.

He didn't think about where he was going, knowing that if he thought about it he would lose his nerve; but luckily Ellie's door was only a few feet beyond the bathroom.

She wasn't asleep. Maybe the sounds of the water running had disturbed her or maybe another nightmare had woken her—he knew after all that she suffered from them nearly every night. He selfishly hoped it was the former. She knew he was there but didn't speak, didn't even shift in her sheets letting him decide what he was going to do.

He walked forward. She rolled over to give him room and he slid in beside her without a word, curling up a little and careful to keep a few inches between them. She turned to look at him, throwing the coverlet over them both.

"What is it?"

Was he that easy to read? He almost barked a laugh when he realized that to her he must be. She was the closest thing he had to comfort, to a close friend (he had reconciled with John but he didn't know if he could ever forgive him) and he had only made it obvious by coming to her now. He would hate himself in the morning for this but at the moment he didn't care.

"You remember how I asked you if the cliffs were a suicide spot?"

He didn't know any other way of how to say what he had been contemplating but she understood immediately—their first meeting by Danny's body on the beach was one she was likely never going to able to forget. Her eyes widened and he clearly saw the concern that bloomed in her expression, but to her credit she didn't smother him. Underneath the blanket her hand found his and her thumb started to stroke the skin of his palm.

"You didn't do it, though," she told him softly.

He shook his head, swallowing hard. "I don't know what's happening," he admitted. "It doesn't make sense."

"Since when has life ever made sense?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes. Her voice sharpened just enough to let him know she was utterly serious: "And if either of my sons had discovered your body in the morning there wouldn't be enough left of you to bury."

It was a warning and he wouldn't doubt it, but he couldn't help but grin a little. Leave it to Ellie to keep him from wallowing in self-pity too much. "My daughter's coming here later today."

She blinked, taken aback by the information. "Thank you for the short notice," she said dryly.

"You were the one who invited her, not me." He had finally stopped trembling and although he was still feeling shaken he was at least a little bit calmer. Arguing with her was helping distract him—at least for a moment. "Oh god, what if I had done it, she would have seen—"

Ellie reached and slapped him on the shoulder. "None of that," she said sharply. "Don't you dare start thinking that way. And if you do, imagine what your daughter would go through—it'll deter you, trust me."

He wasn't going to ask why she sounded so sure but he could guess. "She'll go through it anyway."

"But at least without the added knowledge of her dad choosing to kill himself." Again her voice softened. "You were right to call her, Alec. She deserves to know."

He didn't think so. He didn't want his daughter to be there watching him die. He didn't think he would be able to keep up his guard if she was around, it was already hard enough just with John and Ellie and her boys.

Daisy was stubborn, though. She would be there every step of the way and only cry about what was happening after it was over.

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He didn't leave the house when Daisy texted him to let him know she was at the train station near Broadchurch; his strength had rapidly fled over the past few days and it was rare he ventured outside—the trip to and from the car would be nearly impossible. Ellie gamely changed into clothes fit for company and bundled him up and set him on the front step of the house with a cup of tea.

"It's only about thirty minutes there and back, it'll be fine," she assured him. "If you wanted I could always call Beth…"

"I don't need a babysitter," he practically growled, in no mood to joke around. "Besides, she's too far along to worry about watching someone. John said he'd be stopping over sooner or later, anyway, so just bloody go already."

She rolled her eyes. "It's been awhile since you've cursed aloud. I was wondering if something was wrong."

"Funny."

He waited close to forty-five minutes for them to come; in the space of that time he had moved from the front step into the kitchen and gone through two cups of tea and was just putting on more water to boil when the sound of Ellie's car came up the driveway. He froze for a moment and then the sound of the car doors closing spurred him to the kitchen doorway.

Ellie entered first. "Just leave your bags here, then," she was saying with the old note of cheerfulness in her voice and he wondered if that was an act to put Daisy off.

"Thank you, Ellie." Daisy's voice had changed a little, her tone a bit deeper, but her brogue was as strong as ever. She came into view and immediately caught sight of him; it was only there for a moment but he saw horror flit over her face and he wondered just how awful he looked.

He managed a weak smile. "Hello, darlin'."

His voice spurred her from her spot on the floor. Without a word she flew from the door and into his arms and he was barely able to keep from falling over from the strength of her embrace. He looked over her shoulder at Ellie, asking her silently.

She quietly shook her head. Although she must have been told that he wasn't doing well, Daisy still didn't know the full extent of what was happening. He didn't know if he was relieved or not about that. He kissed the top of her head and drew her closer.

"You called off school before you came, yeah?"

She nodded. "I'm not a kid, Dad," she said, her voice slightly muffled from his clothes. "Mum said she'd tell them there was a family emergency."

He felt suddenly panicked and he drew back. "Is your mum coming?"

Daisy shook her head, upset. "No. I tried to tell her she should, I really did, but she said you're not part of her life anymore."

That stung more than it should have. He swallowed. "Well, I'm glad you were able to come," he said with difficulty, stroking her hair. "Sweetheart, I'm going to ask you to just listen to me. You and I are going to talk."

She frowned, taken aback by his abrupt change of topic but he suddenly felt like he needed to start with telling her his condition—it was the reason he had asked her here, after all. He motioned for her to follow him to the same room that not even a day ago he had talked with Beth in, glancing one more time at Ellie. She was watching them both with sad eyes but she merely nodded again, urging him on.

Taking a deep breath, to calm himself as much as it was to try to steady his racing heartbeat, he closed the door softly behind him and sat Daisy down.

He could only hope she would be strong enough to face what he was going to tell her.