A/N: Thanks everyone for reading, following and commenting. Part of this chapter will follow Tess' short story but this time we see Alec's perspective. So some of the dialogue is based on that and so is the overall flow of action for that part of the chapter. The end is mine. I hope you like seeing the other side and feel it works with the story. It's a shorter chapter, but I hope it won't feel like it.

CHAPTER 4

The rain was soaking through Hardy's clothes that had barely dried. His long strides took him quickly to the police station which was close to the hospital. He walked in through the parking garage, trying to avoid bumping into people. He slowly climbed the stairs, catching his breath on each landing. He cracked open the heavy door to the floor with the locker rooms. It was early evening by now, and mercifully few people were around. He peered through the slit and waited until no one was in the hallway. He hurried to the locker room. Again, he peered through the door and was grateful to find it empty.

He grabbed a towel from the rack and found the track suits that the station stocked for when victims, suspects or staff had to give up their clothes for evidence – a T-shirt, sweater, jogging pants, nothing else. There was one private shower and he couldn't get in fast enough. He peeled off his soiled clothes, leaving them in a heap outside the stall. The pressure of the water was nothing like at home, but it was hot and steamed up the small space quickly enough. He lifted his face towards the water and let it run over his cheeks, nose, forehead, eyes firmly closed until he couldn't suppress Pippa's image any longer.

He hit the tiles with his flat hands, head drooping down between his shoulders. His arms folded over his head, long fingers twitching, water running off of them. He sank against the wall, his torso shaking with silent sobs and slowly slid down until he sat under the hot stream, legs pulled up to his chest. His head was resting on his knees, arms still folded over his wet hair. His tears were mixed with the water, washing them away, but not taking away the anguish that was burning inside him.

Hardy had no idea how long he had been sitting in the shower. Eventually, there were no more tears and anguish was replaced with hollowness. He clambered to his feet, stiff from being folded up for so long. He reached for the soap and started scrubbing himself. He rubbed his face, his hair and every square inch of his skin until he was red and raw and finally the stench of the river had disappeared. The gentle stream of water rinsed away the last bits of foam and he knew there was nothing more he could do to feel clean.

He turned the shower off, the last drops dripping of his body. It was cold in the locker room, but nothing could make him feel as cold as he had felt earlier today after hauling himself out of the river. He dried himself off and put on the police track suit. He put his filthy clothes in a bag. In an afterthought he opened the bag again and went through all his pockets, retrieving anything valuable. He found his car keys and the pills they had given him at the hospital, but not his wallet. His phone was dead. He stuffed everything into the track suit and closed the bag again. He scrubbed his hands for a while to get rid of the smell again. He didn't dare look in the mirror at the sink, fearing what would look back at him.

Nobody noted him quietly making his way back on the staircase to the parking garage. He found his car and got in. He stared at the steering wheel. He should go home, Tess might get worried. His phone was destroyed by the water so he had no way of getting a hold of her. And nobody could get a hold off him. He started the engine and drove off in the night, anywhere else but home.

Hardy hit the motorway, probably driving too fast for the condition of the road and his state of mind. It was still raining. The lights of the other cars blurred while he was passing by them, a never ending stream of red and white. He hoped his mind could zone out as it often did when he went driving. Not today though. Pippa's face clawed its way into the forefront of his thoughts, over and over again until he finally gave in and didn't try to fight it anymore. She was there with him, riding through the night, haunting him like a ghost.

The hollowness inside him slowly was filled with a burning anger. A disgusted rage over the inhumane nature of the crime he had uncovered. Who would kill a child? A child the same age as his daughter, as lively and wonderful as Daisy. His breathing was getting heavy and there was a tugging in his chest.

Stop it, Hardy. It wasn't Daisy. She was home, safe and sound. He desperately tried to separate the two girls, but it was so hard. He was very much aware that he wouldn't be able to find Pippa's killer, if he couldn't regain his emotional detachment, if he were to let it cloud his judgement.

He had no idea, if his team had spoken to the parents yet. He usually preferred to bear the grave news himself, observing the reaction of family members, but this time he shuddered at the thought of having to face them. How do you explain that someone murdered your child and then left her to rot in the river? Who would so such a thing?

He was gripping the wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, preventing his hands from trembling. His whole body was aching from the exertion earlier. His arms felt heavy, but it wasn't from physical exhaustion. Her body was still dragging them down, pulling, weighing on them. Her limp figure was draped over his arms, long hair flowing to the ground, water dripping of her face. Daisy's face.

The car swerved, horns of the other drivers blaring by. He struggled to gain control and get back into the lane. His heart jolted in his chest, immediately followed by an erratic and fast heartbeat. The lights around him started spinning and he hardly knew where he was going. It was by sheer luck that he was able to pullover on the emergency lane and stop the car. He was sucking in air, barely able to form a clear thought.

Pills. Where were those damned pills? He fumbled through the pockets of the track suit, trembling fingers struggling to pop the medication out of the blister pack. He dropped one of them, groaning with frustration. The other one found its way into his mouth. He took in a few more rugged breaths and managed to swallow the second one. His chest was heaving, feeling emptier and emptier. And then the black closed in on him.

Somebody was knocking on his window. He groggily opened his eyes, trying to get his bearings. A muffled voice filtered through the window.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need help?" It was a woman, young, hair plastered down by the rain. Her face lit up intermittently by the orange glow of the blinking emergency lights of her car parked ahead.

He pulled himself up in the seat. The safety belt had prevented him from slumping over entirely. His chest was still aching, but his heart beat was steady, at least for now. Surprisingly, the car was still running and he opened the window.

"Hey, are you okay?" the woman asked again. "Do you need me to call an ambulance? Did you pass out while driving?" She sounded genuinely concerned.

Hardy's foggy brain was refusing to think fast. He couldn't allow her to call an ambulance, they would let the police know as well and he would never get the chance to apprehend whoever did this.

"'M fine. Fell asleep and lost control of the car. Banged my head, I think." He rubbed the back of his hair, indicating the impact. He tried a smile and hoped he was convincing enough.

She frowned at him. "You're sure? You seemed completely knocked out. I was a few cars behind, saw you take a dive for the emergency lane. Thought I should check on you."

"Thank you." He smiled again, this time he meant it. She still seemed hesitant. "Really, I'm okay. Just tired, long day today. Should get home to my family." This wasn't even a lie, he really should. He had been unaccounted for for hours now and they would be worried.

She gave him one last scrutinizing look. "Alright, drive safely then. Try to stay awake this time."

"I will. Thank you again. Not everyone would have stopped." He was sincere. She smiled at him, shrugged and sprinted back to her car, through the rain.

Hardy felt oddly touched by the concern of this total stranger. The open display of kindness reminded him that human nature wasn't all vile and it soothed his desolation. He took a deep breath of the cold air and rolled up the window. He was still shaky, when he pulled out of the emergency lane. He wasn't sure if he was ready to go home, but the worry of either crashing or harming someone else won over his reluctance to bring home Pippa's ghost. There was no escape from her haunting features and the longer he was putting off facing Tess and Daisy, the more the anxiety would build.

It was nearing 10 pm when he pulled up in his driveway. The rain had stopped. The lights were on inside the house. He wondered, if Daisy might still be awake, he hadn't really seen her since the night of the wedding. He slowly climbed out of the car, grabbing the bag with his soiled clothes.

When he opened the door, Tess was waiting for him in the hall. Her face was a canvas of her feelings and anger quickly changed to worry and shock. He didn't want to picture how miserable he must look. His hair plastered to his head, the drab police track suit, too short for his long legs, his ankles bare with no socks. Tess took a step closer, opening her arms to offer a hug.

Hardy wanted that hug so badly. He had been missing her closeness and warmth so much these past days and weeks. But all he could feel was the river water on him and he couldn't bear the thought of her being tainted by it. Unconsciously he crossed his arms and shook his head, silently, the 'no' in his mind an echo of his need to protect her. There was a flicker of disappointment, followed by something else on her face. Hardy couldn't place the expression, but it left him feeling even more unsettled.

"Where've you been?" There was a distinct lack of concern in her voice and Hardy very much was reminded of being in the interrogation room with her, a sure sign that she was upset. Over the years he had learned that the trained behavior took over when she wasn't sure of her own emotions. He felt remorseful that he hadn't let her know where he was. If the shoe had been on the other foot, he would have been frantic.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't look at her, guilt overwhelming him.

"Driving," he barely managed to say. His first word to her in more than a day.

"Oh, Alec. What about your clothes?" Her face softened and he could tell she felt sorry for him. Why she would ask him that, he had no idea. Maybe it was the safest question. He nodded at the bag on the doorstep, filled with the ruined suit. He left it there, when he walked by her into the house. He didn't touch her, still not able to contaminate anything in his home with what had happened.

He went into the kitchen and slumped down on a chair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tess placed a glass of wine in front of him. Idly he noted that it was the last in the bottle. She must have been drinking while she waited for him. He stared blankly at the dark red liquid, unfocused. He didn't dare to blink for fear of seeing Pippa's face.

And as if Tess read his thoughts, she softly said, "I saw her in the mortuary. It must have been awful for you."

There it was. The acknowledgement that she knew, knew what happened on this day, knew what he brought home with him. He couldn't move a muscle, paralyzed by the weight of Pippa's body dragging him down into a darkness he could lose himself in. Her hand on his shoulder reminded him of Pippa bumping him in the water. He shrugged it off and got up.

"I'm going to check on Daisy." His need to see his child safe and sound was all encompassing. Maybe once he saw her, he would be able to finally feel at home and leave the river behind.

He slowly climbed up the stairs, drained from the earlier exertion. He was standing at her doorstep for a while, Tess close by, not saying anything. Daisy was sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly open, hair flowing all over the pillow, just like she had the night prior when he came to give her a kiss. His hands felt tingly, and he his heart was struggling to beat in his chest, long pauses between each thud. His vision blurred, images from the river mixing with Daisy's face. His arms ached, a body's weight pulling on them, but it wasn't Pippa, it was Daisy who he was dragging out of the car, limp in his arms.

Panic was washing through him, his heart all of sudden jolted from too slow to too fast. "Is she breathing?" His strained voice had pitch shifted an octave up.

"I can't see her moving." He bolted into the room, kneeling next to the bed, grabbing her by the shoulders. "She's not moving!" He was shouting, all reason lost.

"Alec, stop it!" Tess whispered, but it was too late already. Hardy had shaken his daughter awake.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Her eyes grew wide in her confusion. He was screaming inside, trying to pull himself together, but he couldn't. He pulled her close, embracing her with his aching arms, trying to make the feeling of Pippa's body go away. He buried his face in her neck, taking in her scent of flowers and honey, drowning out the river stench. He felt Daisy squirm in his arms. He was vaguely aware of Tess grabbing him, trying to pry him off his daughter, but he couldn't let her go, never.

It wasn't until Tess chocked him with the collar of the track suit that he came to his senses. God, what was he doing? He looked into Daisy's confused and scared face.

"Out!" Tess growled at him.

"I'm sorry, darlin'," he pleaded for Daisy's forgiveness, walking backwards to the door. "I just needed to make sure you're okay."

He stumbled down the stairs, until his legs just gave out under him. The wall was the only thing preventing him from collapsing onto the floor. Shaking, he slid down to the ground, leaning back. He pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them, trying desperately to find comfort and an end to the emotional turmoil. Pippa had followed him home and he had nothing to fight it off. Tears were stinging his eyes when Tess came down the stairs. She didn't say anything when she sat down next to him.

"I can still see her face," he said tonelessly. He held out his arms, elbows bent, palms up, as if he was carrying something. "I can still feel the weight of her." His voice was barely audible. Tess pulled him to her chest, despite him resisting for a brief moment. Something broke inside him, all walls falling away, and he slumped against her warm body, crying into her neck uncontrollably. Her hands came around his shoulders, rubbing his back until the tension eased.

When Tess moved under him, Hardy's anguish had diminished enough to be coherent again. And one thought was burning through his mind. He had to find whoever was capable of doing such a thing to a child. If it was the last thing he'd do, so be it. There would be no relent, no letting go.

There was a cold edge to his voice, when he finally spoke, still leaning against Tess' chest. "We're no longer dealing with a missing person inquiry. We know where we stand now. We'll get this."

Determination taking over, he jumped up. "We know who we're dealing with. A monster, who can leave a child to rot in a river." A welcome restlessness that drove him during cases replaced the fatigue. He started pacing in front of Tess who was still sitting on the floor, watching him with big blue eyes, a mixture of admiration and excitement on her face.

And more confident, he added, "This is what we trained for, isn't it? To get justice for families like this."

He turned to his wife, holding out his hand, pulling her up. There was a glow on her face, he hadn't seen in a while and he could tell that she was with him, that she wanted to solve this case as badly as he did. He pulled her into another hug, now quietly talking into her hair. "These parents deserve to face the person who did this to them, and I swear, I will make that happen, because it's the only thing I can do for them. No matter what the cost, evil will not win. Not this time."

She looked up at him, her eyes glittering. "You're a good man, Alec."

Leaning against each other, they stood for a long time, until they finally went to bed together.