A/N: I have finally, finally finished this story. No words could express the deep regret I feel for not sharing this sooner. I am sorry.

Disclaimer: The lyrics in this chapter are from Pink's song Try.

Healing

Her eyelashes twitched. It was the first sign she was waking up.

Hathaway watched her from his position next to the door. Although he'd rather be directly at her bedside, Lewis had already done him the courtesy of guarding her room and he didn't want to push his luck, fully aware that it could have been different this time he'd withheld information, that Lewis could not have been so kind to let him stay on the case. So being in the room with her was good enough for now.

But there was another, more important reason he didn't sit at Elenora's bedside. This wasn't going to be the first time she'd wake up in a hospital bed but he would do anything to prevent her from remembering the last time it had happened, since the man she'd found at her bedside back then was responsible for the condition she was in today. He found himself almost wishing she wouldn't remember Aaron, their marriage, his lies, her hurt. If only the universe would have been so kind…

She opened her eyes, slowly. The light in the room dazzled her, forced her to blink. She perceived the room clearly for about thirty seconds. Then everything started to blur and she began to feel sick. She shut her eyes to stop the world from spinning. She swallowed hard, hoping to clear the tightness of her throat. She felt wretched and for a brief moment that was all she felt. But shutting her eyes made his merciless dark ones come back to her, drowning her soul in pain. This time, she did remember.

And then a voice came out of nowhere.

"Ella?"

"James?"

It sounded so fragile, so vulnerable, so unlike her that it caused a lump in his throat.

"James?" she repeated, distress clearly etched on her face now. The lump instantly cleared.

"I'm here."

She took a large breath as if to steady her emotions and sighed deeply, relieved there was someone there whom she knew and trusted, someone who cared. For the moment, that was enough.

Lewis softly tapped the door window a few minutes later, indicating to Hathaway he should step out for a minute.

"What is it?" he whispered, afraid to wake her even with the door closed.

"Her parents are here. How is she doing?" If his sergeant's face was anything to go by, Elenora Norton wasn't doing good…

"The doctor says it's too early to tell. Apart from the bruising around her neck she has no injuries on her body. But there might be some internal damage due to the lack of oxygen she has suffered." Hathaway paused, unsure of the next bit. "She woke up briefly and recognized me" he added in the interest of full disclosure. Lewis took it for what it was, an indication of her current condition.

"That's a positive thing, considering she didn't the first time round."

A small smile appeared on Hathaway's face but it didn't last.

"Where is Aaron?"

"I don't know" Lewis answered truthfully, though he was quick to add "but everyone is looking for him" to his answer. Nonetheless, Hathaway's face darkened.

"We will get him, James, I promise."

Hathaway looked at him, slightly surprised. It wasn't often that Lewis called him by his first name but always as an indication of how much he cared. The two of them might rarely share their feelings with one another but there was a real depth to their partnership. One might even say friendship. And Hathaway was grateful for it now.

When Lewis noticed the parents coming down the hallway, accompanied by two WPCs, he continued

"I've arranged for around the clock protection for her here and at her parents' house, in case she's discharged before we've caught him."

Throughout his statement, Lewis saw Hathaway's expression change from initial relief that Elenora would be kept safe into anger that Aaron wasn't arrested yet and might not be for some time. He thought it best not to confront the parents and, more importantly, Mrs. Norton with that particular emotion.

"Let's nick him."

Hathaway nodded and followed Lewis out.

It took them two full weeks to catch him. Two weeks, in which Elenora got in fact discharged from the hospital, diagnosed with a minor concussion, and thus stayed at her parents' house, her own home being a place of interest in an active case. Two weeks, in which Hathaway got more frustrated by the day they didn't catch Aaron, which led to Lewis handling all communications with the family in order to keep them from adopting that frustration. Two weeks, in which Aaron Norton turned out to be John Moore, – "a ridiculous name for someone who was worth less than nothing" according to Hathaway – a crook and a thief, a con man of the best and, by that, worst kind who had found himself trapped between the Oxford police and the people he'd been running from ten years ago. So he had taken the safest way out by turning himself in. But he also had an axe to grind.

On their way up to the interview room, Lewis tried to decide whether it was wise to let Hathaway be part of the interview. The younger man seemed to be perfectly calm and resigned now but the same hadn't held true for the past two weeks. All of those feelings could not just have been dissolved overnight, could they? So he stopped and turned to look at his sergeant.

"Something wrong, sir?"

"I think it might be best if I do the interview alone" he stated, his eyes trained on Hathaway.

There was a slight, barely visible twitch in the man's face but it was gone before Lewis was absolutely sure it had been there.

"Why?"

"Your feelings toward the suspect. You cannot expect me to believe that you're all over it now when just yesterday you would gladly have killed him."

"I wouldn't" Hathaway countered. "You're afraid I'll attack him?" he used the word intentionally. "Because I won't. I'm nothing like him."

Lewis knew Hathaway was right without ever having met the other man. But it was the reason he read between the lines that made up Lewis' mind. If Hathaway would attack Mr. Moore, he knew he would lose every chance of any kind of relationship with Elenora Hartly. And after hearing the complete story of the two of them over a pint a couple of nights ago Lewis was convinced Hathaway wasn't willing to risk that.

"Come on, then."

That night Hathaway drank too much, desperately trying to un-hear the interview. They'd been confronted with a confident, proud, arrogant, smug looking Aaron – in Hathaway's mind using the name John Moore would be acknowledging that he was a real human being – who'd had no trouble sharing the details of the murder of his neighbour Donna Smith and the elaborate and intimate details of his scam concerning Elenora. It were these last confessions that had made Hathaway sick and that he'd tried to wash down with a large amount of alcohol. But the numbness it provided, didn't reach his heart. And suspecting, no, knowing the pain he felt was part of a preconceived plan only made it worse. Aaron had led him into the same trap he had Elenora.

Since she'd left the hospital, Elenora had spent her days sitting by her bedroom window looking out over the garden. She didn't say much; there were days when she got up in the morning and got to bed at night without having said one word in between. She was in pain, not so much physically but mentally and it paralysed her. Even after Lewis had called to inform her Aaron had turned himself in, four days ago, she'd continued to sit by the window, frozen like the pond she seemed to be looking at. So that was where she was when she heard the radio playing.

Ever wonder about what he's doing?

How it all turned to lies?

Sometimes I think that it's better

To never ask why

Where there is desire there is gonna be a flame

Where there is a flame someone's bound to get burnt

Just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die

You've gotta get up and try, try, try

Why. Why? It was the question she'd been avoiding for the past two and a half weeks because it was like Pandora's Box, once opened you can never go back. Why? She had asked the question, no, the question had been asked and now she couldn't ignore it anymore. Why? She'd kept the question at bay by telling herself that in theology, asking why meant usually to have faith. Why? But faith wasn't good enough anymore. Why? Faith wouldn't get her through, the fact that she was no longer married wouldn't get her through – the letter that declared her marriage unlawful was still lying at her desk alongside the card of DI Robert Lewis who also wouldn't get her through. Why? Because none of those things, none of those people had the answer to that one question, the question she didn't want but desperately needed an answer to in order to get through. And there was only one man who could give her that, one that could get her back on her feet or destroy her completely. Why? She had to know, had to get up and try. There was no going back.

The phone on Lewis' desk rang but he'd just gone to Innocent's office, so Hathaway picked up.

"Hathaway."

Silence.

He knew it was her when there was no answer. Unwittingly his heart made a jump, only to fall back in its place with a bump realizing she must want something if she was calling the station. For her sake, it better not be…

"I want to talk to him, James" Elenora said.

This time a silence fell on the other end of the line.

As if she could hear his thoughts straight through the phone at his ear, she said

"I am sure. I need to know. I need it to let go."

It was all she could manage, being at the verge of her first breakdown since the attack. He could almost hear the tears in her eyes and he knew. He knew she'd asked the question he himself had asked and he knew she hadn't found a satisfying answer. He understood. He didn't want to but he understood her need to know why. He just wished it could be done without her getting hurt more than she'd already been.

He made her an appointment for later that day and put the wheels in motion to make it happen. Just as he put the phone down, Lewis returned.

"What is it?" he asked his sergeant, seeing his clouded face.

"Elenora. She wants to talk to him."

Lewis' face clouded just as much as Hathaway's.

Elenora drove herself over to the police station. Both her parents had offered to go with her, "if only as chauffeurs," after a lengthy discussion about the whole point of the visit but she'd declined their offer. She'd insisted on going on her own, realizing that if she ever wanted to be the person she once was, depending on her own brain and heart instead of someone else's, she needed to face this, face him, alone. So here she was, sitting in the car park, gathering all that was left of her strength and confidence before she got out and walked up to the station, head held high.

Hathaway was waiting for her by the front desk to escort her up to the interview room. He was nervous. Why hadn't he told her it was a really bad idea? Told her he'd been there, done that? Told her she could get hurt? Would get hurt? He tortured himself with these questions, knowing perfectly well he couldn't have stopped her. She needed to. He could only hope she'd let him be there for her.

When he saw her entering the building he couldn't help but smile. His smile was met by hers as she walked up to him.

"Hi."

"Hi."

He kissed her on the cheek just once this time. Standing upright again, he looked at her properly. Although her body language radiated strength, her eyes showed her true feelings. He was shocked by the fear and the pain he saw in them. She was aware of his shock and looked away. The eyes are the mirror of the soul and she realized hers must show a deep scratch. But she wanted this, needed this.

"This way" he said as he led her through the door and up the stairs, trying very hard not to turn around and stop her from moving forward. All he wanted to do was hold her to his chest, tell her it was going to be alright even without all the answers. But he couldn't. So he just walked on, right up to the door of the interview room. Before reaching for the door handle, he needed to explain the procedure to her.

"There'll be a Constable in there with you, for your safety. Take all the time you need, ask all the questions you need answered. You can leave at any time, all you have to do is stand up and the Constable will open the door for you. I'll be nearby if you need me."

He sought out her eyes to make sure she had no doubts. She didn't; all he saw was a growing fear which made him reach out to touch her shoulder. She pulled away ever so slightly, not wanting to hurt his feelings but also not wanting to lose her determination. Because despite what he probably thought, he meant enough to her to let him stop her. She was just grateful he didn't. She turned toward the door as he opened it and walked into the room.

Hathaway installed himself on the other side of the mirror as Elenora sat down on the chair opposite Aaron, not looking at him just yet. If she had, she would have seen what Hathaway saw: a victorious smirk creeping up Aaron's face, which made Hathaway want to hit him smack on the head. This was what he'd been waiting for. Her ex-boyfriend, or whatever he was, had been a test case, although he already knew he could pull it off. But she had ultimately been the one that had caused him trouble and she needed to feel that for the rest of her life. He'd win.

Elenora folded her hands in front of her, on the table that separated her from Aaron, lifted her head up and faced him. Neither of them spoke. Hathaway held his breath behind the mirror.

"Why?"

Aaron smiled mischievously. She braced herself and that was only visible through her hands. She held them together with more pressure when Aaron started talking, pronouncing every word deliberately slowly in order for them to take the utmost effect.

"You were a business deal. An opportunity for me to hide in plain sight from the people that were looking for me."

"You were a business opportunity. The opportunity for me to acquire more money without the hazards steeling it presents."

"You were a personal opportunity. The opportunity for me to get a shag whenever, wherever and however I wanted."

"You presented no challenges, only opportunities. And I enjoyed it."

Every word felt like someone took a sledgehammer to her heart. With every blow she clenched her hands a little more, her knuckles turning white due to the increased pressure. But she didn't turn away, kept looking him in the eye and didn't even blink.

He was smiling victoriously again and she instinctively knew he was done talking. She rose to her feet, turned and walked out, head held high.

She was just two steps out the door before she stopped, no longer capable of putting one foot in front of the other, afraid that if she tried she'd crumble like pastry and end up crying on the floor. James was there but turning to him now would have the same effect, she couldn't even dare to look at him. She hung her head, her eyes on the floor, on her feet, praying on them to bring her home. It seemed to take them forever to start moving again but finally, finally she was able to lift one foot and take a step. She raised her head, her face pale like that of a corpse, her eyes filled with tears at the verge of running down her cheeks, her mouth slightly open as if she could cry out any moment. But none of that happened. She just took another step. And another.

"One step at a time."

It wasn't more than a whisper but Hathaway knew by that, she'd eventually be fine.

In the interview room, Aaron waited with his victorious smirk for his former wife to cry out in pain or anger in the hallway – he didn't care which one as long as he heard it. But she never did.

Elenora had no idea how she'd got home but she was. Standing in front of her own front door, key in hand, she looked next door where new people were carrying boxes in and out of the house. It struck her like lightning. She managed just in time to open the door and step inside, letting it fall shut behind her before crashing to the floor and crying out in pain.