Haunt Me: A fic about one character watching over another [as a ghost, watching from a distance, or otherwise]
Harry takes one last wistful look at the grainy CCTV image on the screen in front of him before letting out a deep sigh and shutting down the system. As he now stares at the black screen, he reaches for his scotch, downing it in one. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd let his colleague believe.
It had started off innocently enough; he'd received a coded message in the form of a postcard and had then used the Grid's resources to hack into the relevant country's CCTV system. After several hours of searching he had found what he was looking for, outside a small café in a market square. He told himself he just needed to look once, to check that the information he'd received was true. One look would be enough, then he could leave it be.
How wrong he had been. Once he'd opened Pandora's box, he couldn't close it again. At first it had been occasional glimpses, usually after a hard day on the grid. These had then turned into regular weekly sessions in front of the computer screen. Searching. Watching.
It was now a daily habit. Or at least it had been until Malcolm had walked into his office earlier that day. He had been nervous about what he had come to say, and Harry had had an inkling of what was to come.
"You know don't you? About the CCTV?"
Malcolm had nodded. "You're close to raising a flag, Harry. This amount of usage, and only into one town's system, it's going to spark interest. And when they look into it they won't be able to find an operation to tie it to."
"You couldn't fiddle with the numbers?"
Malcolm had sighed. "I could but I won't." Harry opened his mouth to protest but Malcolm held up his hand to silence him. "I'm only looking out for you… and her. It's not healthy for you to shut yourself away in here night after night, pining. And it's not safe for her. These systems are monitored and if anyone should get suspicious, it wouldn't take Einstein to work out who you were looking at and then they'd drag her back here. She left so she could be free Harry. It's time to let her go."
Malcolm had left then, sensing that Harry needed time to absorb what he had said. Harry had known that Malcolm was talking sense. It was time. So he'd made the decision to stop. But it was tearing him apart and it had only been five minutes.
He walks through the market square, the landmarks familiar even though he's never been there before. He knows his route without a map or directions. He's spent so long watching the place through the cameras that it feels like his second home, although the vibrancy had been lost in those grainy images.
As he approaches the shop, he checks his watch. She'll take her lunch in five minutes; he's timed it well. A few more metres and he's outside. He doesn't enter, choosing instead to lean against a lamp-post and let her come to him.
Right on cue he hears the bell tickle as the shop's door opens and she steps out. She's as beautiful as he remembers. Her hair is longer and he skin is slightly tanned but she's still Ruth, and she still holds his heart. She doesn't see him at first, too busy locking up for lunch, but when she turns he steps forward into her eye line and she freezes. She stares at him for a few seconds then blinks rapidly. Only when she is sure he is really there does she move towards him, rushing at him, a smile on her face.
He opens his arms to her and she flies into his embrace. He holds her tightly, his hands on her back, hers around his neck. There are no words; they don't need them. They're together again and that's all that matters.