A/N: Thanks everyone for reading and commenting. Sometime while writing Part One, I thought about giving Emily Abbott and Ed Baxter a voice in Part Two. So I did. I hope you'll like it. Oh, and if you're still debating about reading "Part One", I apologize because there are a lot of references to "Part One" in this chapter. Alec's fighting the aftermath of going to the river…

CHAPTER 3

Once they were safely inside the ambulance and Hardy was sure nobody from his team was around, he addressed one of the paramedics.

"I need to tell you something." He had to catch his breath before he continued in a weak voice, "It's not only the drowning. I have a heart condition, arrhythmia. I think I had an attack. In the water. There's a card with my cardiologist's number and my medications in my wallet."

He noted the two men exchanging a glance and then one of them hastily slapped ECG sticky leads on him.

"They didn't give us your wallet, mate. Do you know what meds you're taking?"

Hardy tried his best but he was so worn out and was drawing a blank on the names.

"Sorry. Can't remember, have only been taking them a bit over a week or so."

It became harder to talk and they put an oxygen mask on him. He could tell from their worried glances at the monitor that his heart beat still wasn't doing what it was supposed to. Under his half-closed eyes, he noticed one of them checking their defibrillator. He groaned recalling his first attack, the fractured rib barely healed.

"Please, tell me you won't have to use that. Last time they broke my rib." He was breathless again.

"Sorry about that, mate. Just checking the equipment, just in case. We'll be at South Mercia A&E in a few minutes anyways." He padded Hardy reassuringly on the chest and then proceeded with placing an IV into his arm. It hurt. Hardy closed his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't done so. Pippa's dead face was as horrifying as it had been while he was in the river with her. He snapped his eyes open and clenched the blanket until his knuckles turned white. He desperately tried to stay awake.

"My cardiologist is Dr. Abbott, she works at South Mercia. She would know everything." He tried to focus on the image of getting a bollocking from her because he had been so daft to go into the water despite her warning him several times not to do so. It helped to stay awake until they finally arrived at A&E. He truly hoped to see her though. Because he sure could use one of her comforting shoulder squeezes right now.

They pulled up to the same entrance where he had dragged Daisy's limp figure out of his car a mere two weeks ago. The feeling of Daisy's weight on his arms blended in with the pull of Pippa's dead body. He was shaking, from the cold and the shear horror of rescuing the girl's corpse from the water. He suddenly felt nauseated, retching under the oxygen mask.

"Are you going to be sick, mate?" The paramedic barely could ask the question, when Hardy forcefully threw up all over the ambulance floor. He whimpered, still gagging, gasping for air. He vaguely registered the exasperated look on the face of the paramedic. He opened his mouth to apologize but had no strength in him to speak.

The guy padded him on the arm again. "It's alright. You've had a rough day. I would have puked out my guts as well. Dragging that poor girl out of the water…" He shook his head, pity in his voice. "Let's get you inside so that they can warm you up and deal with your arrhythmia. Right?"

Hardy nodded weakly. The urge to close his eyes and to just let go was strong, and he gave in. Pippa's face didn't let him find any peace. He was rattled about while they wheeled him into the large A&E room. He was eerily reminded of the day he watched the flurry of activities around Daisy, but now it was him in the center of the organized chaos. He felt lonely, wishing his family was here with him, not caring if they found out about his heart.

The paramedic was telling his story to the A&E team. He drifted in and out, half listening to them. "41 year old male, Alec Hardy, DI with South Mercia Police … nearly drowned in the murky river water… pulled out the dead body of the girl, we saw the corpse, awful… who would do something like that… hypothermia… heart condition, thought I would have to zap him but he settled down… puked all over me, Christ, why always me… doesn't know his meds, another one of those… should call Emily, he says she's his cards person…"

There was a young doctor trying to talk to him. "Mr. Hardy, my name is Dr. Jackson. Do you remember what medications you take for your heart problem?"

Hardy shook his head again. "Dr. Abbott… my cardiologist… was here two weeks ago…" He only managed to get out a few words, his teeth shattering.

"We've paged her. She should be here shortly. Your heart rhythm is still doing all kinds of odd things, but your blood pressure is okay, so that's good, I guess." He scrutinized the monitor and there was an excited gleam on his face. "Fascinating, never seen a real Long QT before, can you feel it, I mean, your heart slowing down?"

Somewhere inside, Hardy idly regretted the loss of this extraordinary opportunity to tear this idiotic doctor apart over his outstanding bed side manner, but he was way too cold and worn out to even get remotely angry.

"Oh, wow, that looks like 'Torsades' – this will make a great case for morning report." The doctor – if that's really what he was, he looked way too young to be one – was getting more and more excited, while the familiar empty feeling was growing inside Hardy's chest. He took in a few rugged breaths feeling his heart dragging along.

For fuck's sake, where was Dr. Abbott? This ignorant fool was going to kill him, too excited to watch what his bloody heart would do rather than actually treat him. God, how he hated hospitals. Come to think of it, maybe he did have it in him to give him a bollocking. He took a deep breath and pulled off the oxygen mask.

"I do shows on the weekend, you know? Maybe I could give you a special rate, 'cause you're clearly a little challenged intellectually. Or maybe your mother just didn't teach you manners." His Scottish accent was growing with the low growl of his voice. He gave him a piercing stare which unfortunately didn't have quite the effect he hoped for as his body spasmed with a coughing fit.

The doctor fussed over putting the oxygen back on him, failing miserably, face bright red. He muttered something about an Xray under his breath and turned tail. Hardy fell back onto the stretcher, still coughing, less violently so and sucking in air. A nurse fixed his breathing mask. She grinned at him.

"Nice one, Mr. Hardy. Looks like you're feeling a bit better, ey? I talked to Dr. Abbott, she's going to be here any minute. Let's see, if we can get you warmed up. I'm giving you some warm IV fluids, it might feel a little funny and here's a heating blanket. That should help."

Slowly the cold was leaving his body and he felt pleasantly drowsy, exhausted enough to drift off to a sleep devoid of any terrifying images.

Dr. Abbott answered her third page from A&E today. When she heard who the patient was, she cursed under her breath. He had missed his appointment a couple of days ago and she had seen his face in the papers this morning. Of course it had to be him who had to investigate the disappearance of those two girls. She didn't even dare to imagine the stress he was experiencing, a sure way to end up six feet under with his condition. He might as well jump into cold water to go for a swim, a safe way to trigger an attack.

When she found out that that was exactly what he had done, she pinched her nose and groaned a little. Whatever happened to not taking care of reckless patients? Oh, right, he was Scottish and reminded her of her father.

Excellent move, doctor, really smart. Taking on his care was really going to help her reduce her own stress level. Maybe they could take a relaxation class together. After she had ripped his head off.

She found him sleeping on a stretcher in A&E. He was pale and his breathing was rather rugged. She checked his ECG strip, unhappy with how slow his rate was and the amount of abnormal beats his heart was firing. She ordered some of his medications and hoped she would be able to get him out of this episode without it deteriorating into cardiac arrest. Warming him up should help. The nurse told her eagerly about his run in with the newly graduated doctor and she was happy to hear that he hadn't lost his wit. She was going to have a word with that moron house officer.

Hearing the full story, why he went into the river, sent shivers down her spine. She had only seen one dead body coming out of the water, many years ago in pathology class, but the image of the bloated corpse had burned itself into her memory. Picturing him nearly drowning, his heart giving out on him while desperately trying to save the girl he couldn't save anymore, tugged at her heart.

She was pondering how to wake him up gently without startling him, when his eyes fluttered open. She waited until his gaze had fixed on her. Her face was stern and she could see in his eyes that he recognized how angry she was.

"Seriously, Alec. You went into the water? Are you suicidal?" Her voice was sharper than she had intended and she could see him flinch the tiniest bit. She immediately felt bad, he had been through hell today and the last thing he needed was her yelling at him.

He moved his hand to take off the oxygen mask, to say something in his defense, but she stopped him.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. How're you feeling?"

With the mask on it was hard to hear what he said, but his "Seriously?" carried all the annoyance he could muster. He didn't even need to roll his eyes, but he still did.

Brilliant question, doctor. How would he be feeling?

He took in a few more breaths, and then removed the mask. He was weaker than she had ever heard him, even after his cardiac arrest two weeks ago. She glanced at the monitor, his heart rate still too slow. It was more than obvious to her that he needed that pacemaker, whatever further studies would show.

"What took you so long?" Another struggling breath. "What bloody morons do you employ in this place? He was happily watching me die, bloody idiot." He coughed again, violently. She had glanced at his chest Xray, and his lungs looked rather wet, not surprising after a near drowning.

Placing the oxygen mask back on his face, she ordered, "Don't talk. I'm getting your bed in the ICU ready, so stop bickering about the staff down here."

He tried to sit up, swayed slightly, and promptly fell back on the stretcher. "I'm not staying." His voice was muffled under the mask. He started to clumsily pull away the monitor leads.

Bloody hell, what was he thinking? She tried to grab his hands but he swatted at her. He missed, cursed under his breath and finally gave up.

"Listen, Alec. I'm not sure, if you understand how lucky you were today. Swimming in cold water is the textbook way to die with your heart condition. Literally, I'm not even exaggerating. I was serious when I told you not to do that."

She helped get the mask off his face, knowing he wanted to say something.

"You don't understand, I needed to get her out, they left her in the water, to rot. Who would do that to a child?" Despite being barely able to catch his breath, he was frantic, his hazel eyes dark, terror looking back at her. He was shaking, not from the cold, but from the emotions threatening to tear him apart.

She held his gaze while her hand was feeling his pulse. It had changed from way too slow to the erratic fast heart rate that heralded the fatal arrhythmia. She looked up quickly to see where her nurse was. She found her and beckoned her to come over. The nurse had seen the changes on the monitor and brought over the defibrillator, getting ready for the worst.

Hardy noted the machine as well and started squirming. He looked panicked which didn't help the situation. She needed to calm him down, maybe give him some sedation. She took his hand and placed her other on his shoulder. She leaned closer, finding his eyes again.

"Alec, just focus on my voice. You'll be alright. I need you to take in some deep breaths, try to calm down." His eyes darted to the defibrillator. She gently turned his head. "Look at me, nothing else is going to happen, if you just listen to me. Breath in and out." She could tell he was trying, struggling for composure.

The nurse came close to her, quietly asking, if she wanted something for sedation. Emily nodded, she'd rather make him sleep than have to shock him. She watched the nurse push in the medication. Alec Hardy finally relaxed, his terrified eyes glazing over and eventually closing. And after his heart rate had normalized, she could feel the tension in her ease as well.

He couldn't breathe. The water was rushing into his mouth and throat, drowning him. He desperately tried to clear his lungs, coughing and sputtering, panic gripping his every fiber. There was a voice, calling his name, trying to pull him away from the river closing in on him. He tried to find the voice, tried to force his eyes open.

The lights were bright and he squinted, moaning. His vision slowly focusing, he recalled where he was. He was panting, struggling to regain his composure. His shirt was sticking to him, soaked in sweat. Somewhere inside him it registered that his heart rate was uncomfortably fast but not skipping any beats. Despite being utterly shaken by the nightmare he just had, he quickly realized he was physically feeling better than before.

"What…" His voice croaked and couldn't finish the sentence.

"Hiya. You're awake. Having a bad dream, ey?" The nurse was putting back the oxygen mask that he had torn off his face. He slowly sat up, not feeling dizzy this time, and swung his legs off the stretcher.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing?" She tried to push him back to lie down but he swatted her hands away. He winced when he pulled off the ECG sticky leads.

"I'm going home. Not staying here," he growled at the nurse.

"We're not discharging you. You're supposed to go to the ICU." She quickly turned off the IV fluids that started spilling after he pulled out the IV from his arm. "Christ, Emily warned me you might try to escape but this is rather drastic, Mr. Hardy. You can't do this."

"Sure I can. Where are the papers I need to sign?" Hardy had no patience. He had no idea how long he had been out after Dr. Abbott had drugged him and he couldn't risk any of his colleagues finding out about his heart condition. For that matter, he couldn't risk Tess to find out. Not now, not after his missing person case had just turned into child murder.

Child murder, the words echoed through his mind. He froze, his hand hovering over the last ECG sticker to be pulled off his chest. Pippa's bloated pale face was dancing in front of his eyes. He could feel the nausea rising again and he started gagging, covering his mouth with his hand. He tasted bile on his tongue, just at the same time when he noticed the smell of the river on his skin and clothes. He had nothing to overcome the visceral reaction of his body. At least this time, the nurse was fast enough to give him a basin to throw up in.

He was sitting perched at the edge of the stretcher, shivering in the cool air of A&E, panting. He didn't notice. The only thing he was aware of was the smell of his hair, his skin, his clothes – foul, full of decay and rot. He frantically looked around, searching for a way to escape, to run and wash the stench away.

He finally became aware that Dr. Abbott was shouting at him, tugging on his arm.

"Alec! Answer me!" Her face was pale and her eyes were dark. The dreadful young male doctor was standing right next to her, mouth gaping open, eyes wide with fear.

He took in a shuddering breath, pressed the balls of his hands on his eyes. He needed to pull himself together, badly, or she would drug him again and then all hope of getting out of there would be lost. He managed to calm down, focusing on his breathing. And finally he opened his eyes and looked at her, mustering whatever was left in him. This was his only chance of convincing her that he was alright, that she could let him leave.

"Stop shouting. I'm not deaf," he growled at her.

She let out the breath she had been holding. "You could have fooled me."

Pulling off the last remaining ECG sticker, he stood up. "I'm leaving." His back was facing her, avoiding her eyes.

"If you walk out now, you can find yourself another doctor," she hissed at him, scowling.

He turned around slowly, a desperate look on his face. "I'm not staying. I can't. If they find out about my condition, they will take me off the case. And I can't risk that, Emily. You didn't see her…" He shuddered, blinking away the pervasive image of Pippa's dead body. "I have to find whoever did this to that girl." His eyes were wild and pleading.

This time he won the argument. Her features softened. "You have to come see me, once a week at least. And we have to set up those procedures. You can't find the killer, if you're dead." She was firm and he knew there was no bargaining with her. He nodded.

"Where are you gonna go now? Not back to the river?" She was genuinely worried about him, and Hardy felt more than a pang of guilt that he couldn't be a better patient.

"No, not there," he snapped. The stench was still everywhere. "Need to get it off me, the river water," he muttered under his breath.

"So you're going home then?" She sounded relieved. He just looked at her with a blank stare. How could he go home, how could he bring this into his house? To his daughter? He couldn't. She must have read it in his face.

"Alec, don't be alone today. Please, it's not a good idea," she pleaded with him. "Do you even have your medication with you?" She didn't wait for his reply, having guessed the answer. Everything had been lost in the water.

"You, Jackson, go and get these for me." She scribbled something on her prescription pad. "Go on, and try to be fast for a change." Jackson scrambled off.

She caught Hardy rolling his eyes. "He's not a bad guy, you know."

"Right. Not bad at killing his patients while jumping up and down like an overly emotional puppy. Does he wet himself when he gets excited?" She whacked him on the arm. "Oi, I'm going to report you to the medical board, that's abuse." He managed a wry grin.

"Go ahead then, knock yourself out. And I'll have a word with your boss." That wiped the grin of his face.

"You're not going to do that, are you?" He squinted his eyes at her, not sure if she was serious.

She sighed. "No, I won't. Not for now. If you keep your end of the bargain, that is."

He nodded. "I promise. Do you need me to sign the papers that I'm leaving against medical advice?"

"No, I'll discharge you," she replied hesitantly.

He huffed. "Ah, don't be daft. I don't want you to get in trouble. Give me the bloody papers and I'll sign. Have the moron do it, if you want. Gives me another opportunity to make him regret he ever met me."

She chuckled. "Fine. I'll have Jackson do it. Make sure he gives you some pills before you scare him to death." Her pager went off. She looked at it annoyed.

"Go on then. I'll be alright. I'll see you in your office." He leaned against the stretcher, crossing his arms and tilting his head, suggesting for her to leave. Before she walked away she squeezed his shoulder and gave him a small smile. He felt lonely as soon as she had left.

Dr. Jackson came back with the medication and a wad of papers for him to sign. When Hardy was done, he stooped down to be close to the shorter man's ear. He put as much menace in his voice as he could.

"If you even dare to think of telling anyone who asks for me about what happened here today or my heart or anything, I will hunt you down and destroy your career, just as much as you would have destroyed mine. Do you understand?"

The young doctor's boyish face was pale with fear. He nodded vigorously.

"Good. Because I need to be sure about this." Hardy's eyes bore through him, not leaving any doubt about the threat.

Dr. Jackson swallowed. His voice was squeaky. "I won't. Never."

Hardy left without even looking back, strides long and deliberate. The rain was still coming down when he got outside. He felt it trickling down his face, body and hands. He stood there for a while, struggling to numb himself against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He wanted to believe he was succeeding but he knew he wasn't. Finally he slowly walked away, the rain swallowing his tall and lonely figure.