A/N: It's the season to say Thank You (at least in a certain part of the world). So thanks to everyone who has been following Alec up until now and who has been so kind to leave comments and reviews. I am very grateful and feel humbled by the many things that were said. My special thanks goes to hazelmist who read the first words of this story many, many months ago and since then has patiently stuck with me and Alec's adventures. If there are more mistakes than usual, then it might be related to both author and beta being a wee bit emotional about this chapter. So, be warned. I hope you will still enjoy it. *hands out a complementary tissue*

CHAPTER 26

There was a soft knock on his door. Baxter grunted an invitation and closed the file folder he'd been working on. He looked up and was surprised to find Hardy poking his head in instead of his usual stormy 'I-don't-give-a-shit-if-you're-busy' entrance.

"Sir, do you have a minute?"

The hairs on the nape of Baxter's neck rose. This was not like Hardy at all. He nodded and gestured for his DI to come in.

Hardy slowly trudged over to a chair but didn't sit. He grabbed the back of the chair tightly. His face was even paler than the day before and in a poetic moment Baxter thought he looked rather forlorn with his shaggy hair and stubble on his face.

"Alec, you're giving me the creeps. What the hell is going on with you?" Baxter asked, harsher than he had intended to.

Hardy flinched. He looked small which considering his height was unsettling. He pushed himself off the chair and started a slow pace, hands on his hips.

"Claire revoked Ashworth's alibi. We have it as an official statement," he sighed.

"But that's fantastic news, Alec," Baxter exclaimed, excited that he'd be able to give CPS something to sink their teeth into.

Hardy stopped his restless journey and finally plopped onto a chair. "She's lying Ed, or at least not telling the full truth. Tess thinks the same." He dragged his hands down his grey face. "There're too many loose ends, I'm not gonna finish it," he mumbled behind his fingers.

Baxter sat up straight, suspicion rising. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Hardy shot him a sheepish glance and ran his tongue over his teeth. He looked so uncomfortable that it made Baxter's skin crawl.

"Alec, you're driving me bonkers. Can you just tell me what the hell is going on in that thick head of yours?" he barked at Hardy who jumped and was clearly rattled.

"I… Can I… I sort of need... the day off tomorrow," Hardy stuttered.

A furrow appeared on Baxter's brow. That was somewhat unexpected. He squinted at Hardy who was trying to hide his trembling hands between his legs. And suddenly the penny dropped.

"You're having that procedure? Tomorrow of all days?" Baxter couldn't hold his exasperation back.

Hardy ducked and dropped his gaze. His fingers kneaded his thighs. The silence was deafening and Baxter was about to say something, when Hardy looked up. His hazel eyes were burning with fear, something that Baxter had never seen before.

"Ed, I saw my doctor this morning. I can't wait any longer. I was hoping we'd be done with the case but…" he trailed off, shaking his hanging head. "At least we broke Ashworth's alibi," he muttered, jaw twitching.

Hardy's quiet words took a few heart beats to register with Baxter. He stared at Hardy, realizing how much pressure his friend must have been under to agree to have the procedure done before they had even charged Ashworth. He got up, stepped around his desk and sat down next to him, putting a hand on Hardy's shoulder.

"Of course you can have the day off. I didn't quite understand it was that urgent," Baxter reassured him gently. He could feel Hardy's heavy breaths under his hand and his worry about his friend's well-being was soon confirmed when Hardy fumbled through his pockets and produced his pills.

Hardy swallowed them without asking for water. It shouldn't have made Baxter feel bad, but it did. Seeing his friend like this hit a nerve that was still sore from when his daughter Emma had been fighting for her own life.

"I might not come back." Hardy choked on his words.

Baxter's hand on Hardy's shoulder tightened involuntarily. "What do you mean?" he asked warily, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

It took Hardy a long time to reply. "They might do the pacemaker tomorrow when they do the cath procedure. Can't come back right after that," he said, voice quivering. Face ashen, he wrung his hands. Baxter had been a successful detective for well over two decades. He recognized when someone was holding back, even in more accomplished liars than Hardy.

"Alec, look at me, please," Baxter demanded quietly. When Hardy obeyed and he saw his expression, Baxter knew immediately what he hadn't said. "How risky is this procedure?"

Hardy stared ahead. Eventually, he breathed one word. "Rather."

Baxter filled his lungs with air and let it out quickly. "Does Tess need off as well? I assume you can't go by yourself."

Hardy's face turned red and a croaking noise escaped his throat before he could hold it back.

"Lord, you still haven't told her?" Baxter exclaimed in disbelief. He wanted to slap him. The bloody idiot was still hiding from his family. "Unbelievable. You're such a stubborn moron. Why haven't you said anything to her?" he chided him.

"I tried," he mumbled, hiding his face behind his palms again. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Then he raised his gaze to Baxter. "I had a bad fight with Daisy yesterday. She thinks I don't care about her." He looked so desperate, it broke Baxter's heart.

"Tess is right. I can't give Daisy what she needs right now. I failed her as a father." Hardy's words got more and more quiet and by the end they were but a whisper.

It took Baxter a few moments to gather himself and resist the urge to yell at Hardy. He wanted to throttle him but that wasn't the right way to go. This needed more gentle hands.

"Alec, I met Daisy when she was how old? Four maybe? Since I saw you with her on that cold snowy night, there has been absolutely no doubt in my mind that you love this child more than anything. You're one of the most devoted parents I've ever met. Tess telling you otherwise is bullshit. You're Daisy's dad. She loves you."

Hardy's shoulders were shaking with his sobs.

"Come here," Baxter sighed, pulling Hardy close. He held him until the tears slowed down and his breathing became easier. Then he let go and waited until Hardy finally looked at him.

With a smile he said, "I'm sending you home." Hardy began to protest but Baxter put his hand up. "Don't start. You're going to find Daisy and talk to her. And then you'll tell your wife about your heart disease and that you need her help. No more hiding, no more lying. It's time." Baxter's voice was kind but firm enough to sink in.

Hardy sniffed and wiped at his cheeks. "You're right," he said hoarsely, forlorn hazel eyes resting on Baxter. He clambered to his feet, using Baxter as a crutch. His hand gripped Baxter's shoulder briefly, before he moved towards the door.

With a hand on the door knob, his head dropped and he addressed Baxter one last time.

"Thank you, my friend. Bye for now," Hardy said more sincerely than Baxter had ever heard him. A cold shiver ran over him while he watched the door slowly closing behind Hardy.

Hardy stumbled into the restroom. He felt nauseated to the point that he couldn't trust his body not to betray him. This time it wasn't the pills though. Having to ask Baxter for the day off and why, had taken a toll on him. Hearing those words come out of his own mouth made everything so much more real. He had said goodbye to one of his best friends.

He splashed some water in his face, scrubbing at his grey skin. It couldn't wash away all the exhaustion and anxiety he was feeling. He lifted his gaze and stared at the reflection of a man he barely recognized. His fingers brushed over the image and he closed his eyes, wanting to shut out the harsh reality. It didn't work. His pale face was burned into his retina and projected against his closed eyelids. It was soon joined by the ghostly images of two children. A shudder ran down his spine and he jerked out of his daydream.

He had kept it together for so long, he couldn't lose it now. "Come on, Hardy", he growled at himself in a desperate attempt to get a grip. A few deep breaths later, he had found enough composure to sneak back to his office and get his things in order.

He made sure he'd filed all the proper reports and statements and that they were easy to find. All his documentation was meticulous as always, but he still double checked. He took care to sift through the growing stack of files and sorted them into the appropriate folders. Then he locked them in his desk and put the key under his mousepad. Tess would know where to find it. He contemplated briefly to leave a note with his computer password but decided against it. There had to be a way for them to get past that if needed.

He walked over to the window and stared out for a long time. His tall thin figure was a dark silhouette against the bright light shining in. His forehead rested against the warm glass while his arm cradled the back of his head. He didn't know for how long he'd stayed like that but when he finally moved, he knew it was time to leave.

He plucked his coat off the hook, shrugged it on, and quietly slipped away without anyone noticing.

There was only one thing on Hardy's mind now that he had left work behind.

He was waiting for Daisy at the school gate. When she saw him, she scrunched up her nose and hurried past him without acknowledging his presence. Hardy took a deep breath and followed her. He wasn't sure he could keep up, but he had to try. Considering what Emily had shared with him in the morning about the risks of the next day's procedure he needed to make peace with Daisy.

It didn't take long until it was clear that he couldn't catch up. He stopped and shouted her name. She slowed down but continued to walk away from him.

"Daisy, please wait for me." He leaned against the fence of the school yard and hoped she would listen. Spinning around, she stormed back and planted herself right in front of him, arms crossed, wearing a scowl.

"What do you want? You know I don't like being picked up like a little girl," she snapped at him.

"I know darlin'. And I'm sorry. I just thought because it seemed okay yesterday when your mother did so, I could –"

"You spied on us?" Her face was flushed red with anger.

Hardy's heart skipped a few beats and he suppressed a flinch. "I didn't spy on you. I meant to take you for tea or something and talk after we had such a bad morning, but I guess your mother beat me to it." He paused, searching her face for any sign of understanding. "I saw the two of you walk away and didn't want to…" He trailed off and dropped his gaze. His ears were burning with the shame of his actions.

"Is that the truth? You were not following us because you're jealous of Mum and me hanging out?" she asked, voice softer now.

He looked up in surprise. "Why would I be jealous of that? Did your mother suggest so?"

She nodded, lips pressed together. He couldn't even be angry, he was so disappointed in Tess.

He sighed and scrubbed down his face with his hands. "Listen, darlin'. Your mother and I have had some issues and I don't know why she would say those things about me, but I can assure you I'm not jealous. She's your mother, Daisy. Why wouldn't I want you to spend time with her?"

She studied the pavement and fidgeted with the zipper of her hoodie jacket. "So you didn't mind?" she mumbled, behind the curtain her reddish brown hair was draping over her face.

"No, I didn't. I was sad though…" - she raised her eyes to meet his - "... because I wanted to talk and apologize for what had happened yesterday morning." He smiled shyly, hoping for her to believe him.

"Oh, Dad. You're so silly sometimes." She threw her arms around him, pushing him against the fence. He cradled her head in his arm and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. She quickly wiggled out of his embrace when a group of her classmates walked by, giggling and poorly hiding their stares.

"Enough public display of affection?" he joked. She snorted and stuck out her tongue. Hardy suppressed a grin.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, happy that they had made peace.

"Mary's Tearoom," she replied without hesitation. It was her other favorite spot to go to besides the coffee shop in their neighborhood. It was close enough to walk there.

"All right. Mary's it is," he agreed, pushing himself off the fence. He slowly started to walk and she fell in step with him.

"Mary's going to strangle you, you know that, Dad, right?"

"And why would she do that?"

"Decaf tea…" Daisy reminded him.

Bollocks. He was dead meat. Mary would never let him live this down.

Daisy nudged him in the side and hooked her arm under his. "Don't worry. She's got a soft spot for me. I've got your back, Dad."

All of a sudden, the corners of his eyes burned with the tears he had to hold back. How much he wished she could go to the cath procedure tomorrow but he didn't dare say anything. He couldn't burden his child with the uncertainties of his fate until he knew for sure. He tugged her closer and forced a smile on his face, hiding his fears and worries.

"Look who's here? Haven't seen you guys in a while. How have you been Miss Daisy?" Mary had taken it upon herself to wait on their table. She leaned down and gave Daisy a quick hug. Then she stuck out her hand to greet Hardy.

"Alec, how are you?" Her American accent always made his name sound more bearable. There was genuine concern in her voice.

"'M fine," Hardy answered, very well knowing that she might not believe him. They had been coming to Mary's Tearoom ever since Daisy started school and over the years Mary had developed an eerie sense of his moods.

She tilted her head and her eyes narrowed. She shot a quick glance at Daisy's happy face and nodded. Hardy was grateful for her tact.

"You guys want the usual?" she asked instead of quizzing him further.

Hardy and Daisy exchanged a look that didn't go unnoticed.

"Or do you need the menu?"

"You're not gonna like this, but my Dad's taken up drinking decaf tea." Daisy put on her sweetest smile while Hardy's cheeks turned a pale shade of pink. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and looked up at Mary's incredulous face.

"You're not serious about that?" Mary squinted her eyes at him again and her expression changed ever so slightly. "Always something new I guess." Shrugging, she smiled warmly at Hardy and put her hand on his shoulder. "I think I might have a blend or two you'd enjoy more than the regular decaf, Alec. Why don't you come to the counter and try a few things?"

She invited him with a tilt of her head. Hardy smiled back at her. "Thanks, Mary. I'll be right there." He knew what she really wanted. A chance to talk outside of Daisy's earshot. He was willing to give her the opportunity. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was because of all the times she had comforted Daisy when she came to her crying over being bullied at school. Maybe it was because of all the times she had listened to him when he needed someone to talk to. Or maybe it was because ever since he had arrested the arsonist who had torched her tearoom a few years back, she saw him as part of her adopted family away from home.

He left Daisy at their table and met Mary at the counter.

"Alec, what's going on?" She cut to the chase without fussing about, like she usually did.

"What makes you think that anything is going on?" It was a weak attempt at deflecting and he knew he wouldn't get away with it.

"I read the papers, Alec. But that's not even it. You look like shit, that's what makes me think that something's going on," she answered quietly, while serving him a cup of herbal tea.

Hardy chewed on his lip, contemplating lying, but then he didn't. "I pulled the girl out of the water. It's been hard dealing with that."

Mary's eyes widened. "That's not all though, is it?" she probed gently.

He shook his head. "No. I…" he hesitated, slowly turning the cup with the herbal tea.

"Are you sick, Alec?" Their eyes met. He didn't need to answer.

"Is it serious?" He nodded.

"Does she know?" Mary glanced over his shoulder, resting her gaze on Daisy.

"No. I haven't told her yet." He looked down, holding on tightly to the cup.

"Is that why you brought her here today?"

He stayed mute, not sure of the answer.

"Alec, you have to tell her, if it's that serious. You know how angry she would be if you kept it a secret. She's so attached to you." Mary put her hand on his, encouraging him in any way she could. "Go back and talk to her. I'll bring over your order."

When he was about to turn, she asked one last question. "Is it cancer?"

He found her eyes, shaking his head. "No, Mary. It's my heart."

Mary's lips curled up in a sad smile. "A broken heart. How very Alec Hardy is that?"

Hardy stared at her for a few moments, before he walked back to Daisy. 'A broken heart'. How aptly put.

Hardy sat down at their table. The silence stretched until Daisy huffed.

"Are you gonna say something or do I have to do all the talking?" she asked disgruntled.

Hardy sighed and put his elbows on the table. His hands found each other and he laced his fingers together. He had played out the conversation in his head prior to picking up Daisy, but now that he was confronted with the situation, he very much was at a loss for words.

"Do you want to start with 'I'm sorry my darlin' daughter and will henceforth fulfill all your wishes, no questions asked.'?" She leaned back on her chair and crossed her arms.

Hardy shot her an upward glance and rolled his eyes at her.

"Fine. We can also just not talk," she went on, her mouth pulled into a pout.

Hardy ran his tongue over his teeth and squirmed in his chair. When Mary brought their order, she nodded encouragingly at him.

"Daisy, I think you dad needs a little bit of nudging today," Mary said kindly.

"That's what I'm trying to do, but it's not working," Daisy grumbled. Mary smiled at them both and poured their tea.

"Why don't you start with asking your dad how his day was? Or tell him about yours?" she suggested.

Hardy and Daisy's eyes locked. Daisy smiled shyly at him and he rubbed the back of his head.

"There you go," Mary cheered her on. She patted Daisy on the back and left them to each other.

"So, how was your day?" Daisy asked with a sigh.

Hardy scrutinized the wooden surface of the table, rearranging the sugar packets in their little bucket. 'Pretty shit. I was told I could die tomorrow' didn't sound like a good conversation starter.

"Dad?"

His mouth gaped open but the words didn't want to come out. How could he explain to her what he couldn't quite grasp himself? He remembered why he wanted to talk to her in the first place. To apologize and make amends.

"I'm sorry, I was a jerk yesterday morning. I was tired and annoyed with work. I know that's a poor excuse, but it's the truth. I wanted to listen, but all those damn messages kept distracting me. I'm worried we won't get the killer," he ended quietly. Then he looked up. Her eyes narrowed and she chewed on her lips.

"I've never seen you like this before. This case seems worse than anything else. It's taken up your life, sucking you in more and more," Daisy replied a serious tone in her voice.

Hardy stared at her, stricken by how true her words rang.

She cupped his hand with hers. "Please, Dad. Talk to me. I'm trying to understand but it's been so hard," she pleaded, her hazel eyes wide.

Hardy turned over his hand and held onto hers. He drew upon all his courage and started speaking, slowly and hesitantly.

"I never had to deal with..." He paused, unable to say 'child murder' in front of his daughter. He took in a deep breath and tried again. "It's getting to me… the case I mean. It's because the girl that was killed was your age." He found her eyes, searching them for her reaction. She looked at him attentively, face open, encouraging him to go on.

"The case is taking over everything. And it really shouldn't. I should be able to be more detached, to not be so absorbed by it all. I want to leave it behind, but it's following me and I don't have the strength to keep it out. It's been so overwhelming. I've been so exhausted and not exactly feeling well." He stopped abruptly, reaching too close to the topic he wasn't sure he could talk about. He tightened his grasp of her fingers and held her gaze despite the urge to run away from it all.

"I'm so sorry, darlin'. I haven't been there for you or your mother lately and that's not all right." He hung his head in shame. "I've been a lousy father," he breathed, his heart heavy with the emotion.

"No, you're not." Her answer was quiet but utterly sincere. She pushed her chair closer and placed her palm on his tense back. "Don't you ever think that," she added, resting her head on his shoulder.

After a few minutes of silence, she eventually picked up the conversation again. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded, his head against hers.

"Are you having nightmares?"

Hardy moved and looked down at her head. "Aye," he admitted tonelessly. "What makes you think that?"

"I heard you scream yesterday morning," she answered. Hardy sucked in some air, fighting tears.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. You often seem so jumpy these days and so tired all the time. Made me wonder if you haven't been sleeping well. Nightmares seemed like a valid explanation. So is the stress of the case," she reasoned, sadness making her sound older than she was. Or maybe she had matured in all those weeks that her parents had not paid that much attention to her. For the briefest of moments he considered telling her what his dark dreams were about but then refrained from doing so. It was not a burden that she should share.

The conversation was taking a toll on his frail state, emotionally and physically. It was surprising that he was still sitting up, considering that his heart had decided to forgo any reasonable approach to beating properly in his chest since Daisy and he had started to talk. He dragged his fingers down his face and up again, burying his face in his palms. He swallowed a sob, but she had already noticed.

"It's all right, Dad." She rubbed his back and snuggled closer. "You don't have to hold it in."

Again, they sat in silence while she comforted him and he and his faulty heart eventually calmed down. His exhausted mind was wandering, circling back to something she had said earlier.

He straightened his body and made sure she was looking at him. There was something he needed to put right.

"Daisy, I need you to believe me when I'm telling you that I am not jealous of your relationship with your mother." She took in a deep breath and held it in, jaw clenched down. He smiled and brushed a lock of hair out of her face.

"It's quite the contrary. I enjoy watching the two of you together and I'm very happy that you're having so much fun. You and I - we've always been close. I realize that this is changing - and I'll be honest with you - that does make me sad at times. I get it, you're growing up and having your old grumpy dad around all the time is a bit annoying. I'm no good at talking about feelings, certainly not when it comes to my own, but there is one feeling that is very easy for me to express. I love you, more than anything in this world besides your mother and I will always be there for you." His voice broke with his last words. It was a promise that wasn't as easy to make any more. His fear tightened his chest, a stark reminder of his new reality of wearing his emotions on his sleeves as his body refused to hide his inner workings.

Daisy was in tears.

"Oh, darlin', please don't." He brushed her cheek with his thumb. Then he pulled her close, letting her bury her face against his chest.

"Bollocks, this is way too soppy." Her voice was muffled and hoarse from crying. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. And as much as she had seemed older to Hardy earlier, seeing her all snotty and puffy eyed, he could only think of her as his little girl.

"It's just that there are some things that are easier to talk to Mum about. And also easier to do with her. Doesn't mean I feel different about you or us. I love you, Dad. And nothing can ever change that."

They looked at each other, hazel eyes meeting. Hardy mirrored Daisy's smile and for the first time that day, he felt hopeful that his life could work out after all. He looked up and noticed Mary watching them. Her lips curled up and she nodded approvingly. They finished their tea and scones chatting about Daisy's school, her latest ballet endeavors and her plans for the summer holiday.

Hardy had paid and was about to get up, when Daisy held him back with a hand on his arm. He looked at her worried face and wondered what was troubling her.

"What is it, darlin'?"

She took in a deep breath. "Dad, are you ill?"

Hardy fell back onto his chair. That was not a question he had been expecting. The stutter in his chest mocked him. He didn't speak for what seemed a long time.

"Why're you asking?" he mumbled finally.

"Because I have eyes in my head. You look like shit, Dad. You passed out in front of me and you haven't been yourself lately. That's why." She sounded almost offended.

Hardy swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I've been working too much."

"Not good enough. I don't buy it," she retorted.

Hardy felt the color leave his face. What was he going to tell her?

"Daisy, I…" He paused, desperately trying to find the right words. "I've not been well. The stress is making me ill. Not sleeping is making me ill."

She squinted her eyes at him, doubt written all over her face. He had a choice. He could lie to her or be honest. Emily's plea to tell his family, especially his daughter was burning in his mind.

"I've been seeing a doctor, Daisy. She's making sure I'm taking care of any health issues." He searched her face. The doubt had disappeared, giving way to concern. He put on a smile that he didn't quite feel. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

She got up without saying a word. He wasn't sure if she believed him or not. It was the best he could do until he finally talked to her mother that night. When they left Mary's Tearoom, they had made peace, but Hardy's heart was still heavy, his secrets weighing him down.

Daisy gave him a questioning look when he called for a cab to go home instead of driving himself, but didn't ask. They reached their home when it was getting dark. Daisy ran up the driveway, barged through the door and threw her backpack and jacket on the floor. Hardy trailed behind, tired from another long day. He sighed when he tripped over his child's belongings, bent down and picked up after her like he had done a million times before. Lost in his gloomy thoughts, he was stroking her jacket when she hollered something from the kitchen. He shook himself free from the feeling of things ending and followed his daughter's call.

"What do you want to cook?" she asked, sticking her head deep into the fridge.

"Daisy, you know I'm banned from the stove unless it's related to making breakfast," he grumbled.

She popped her head out from behind the fridge door, wearing a broad grin. "You might be, but I'm not. Catch!" She threw a bag with carrots at him which he clumsily clutched against his chest. "Are you still allowed to wield a knife?" she teased.

Hardy snorted, but obediently grabbed a knife and cutting board. He only managed to nick his fingers twice and didn't spill his blood all over the vegetables that Daisy had piled up in front of him. She had pulled out a pan and was boiling pasta. He had no idea what she was cooking but it smelled delicious while it was simmering on the stove.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket. Tess wasn't going to make it for dinner. Someone had phoned in about the stalker and they needed to go question the person. Hardy stared at the message, not moving a muscle, until Daisy put a hand on his back.

"Dad, you look like you've seen a ghost," she joked but there was concern hidden underneath.

Hardy swallowed around the lump in his throat. What was he supposed to do if Tess didn't show up? He needed to talk to her and it wasn't a conversation he could manage over the phone. His chest tightened.

"Mum's not coming home. She got held up at work," he let Daisy know. He could hear the disappointment in his voice.

Daisy rubbed her hand up and down his back. "It's all right, Dad. That means we can watch some 'Bruce' without her annoying comments." She was trying to cheer him up and he gave her a weak smile.

"Sure. Just was looking forward to spending some time together," he muttered under his breath. She hugged him, catching him by surprise.

"Maybe tomorrow instead then?" she suggested. Hardy's heart jolted. However his next day would look like, a happy family dinner wasn't going to be part of it.

"Yah, maybe tomorrow," he said quietly.

The pasta boiled over.

"Shit," Daisy exclaimed and abruptly let go of her father. Hardy's arm dropped away from her, weakly falling alongside his body. He silently watched her save the pasta and finish the cooking, marveling at how big she'd gotten and how grown up she was. When she put down his bowl with the steaming food in front of him, he caught her wrist and pulled her close. He pressed a kiss on her head.

"Thanks, darlin'." Their hazel eyes met and they mirrored each other's gorgeous smiles. He opened his mouth, but she shushed him up.

"If you say something soppy, you're not getting dessert," she threatened before he could indulge in any further affirmation of his love for his daughter. Instead he hid a grin and enjoyed the first proper meal in days. Apparently he ate enough growing food as he was allowed to have a whole bowl of ice cream when they retreated to the sofa to watch Thor for the fourth time together.

Daisy had gone upstairs to get ready for bed and Hardy was brooding over his phone.

He had texted Emily earlier that Tess wasn't going to be home until late and that she shouldn't bother coming by. He'd tell her by himself. Emily's reply had been encouraging and reminded him to be at the hospital by no later than 7 A.M. and not to eat or drink anything after midnight.

There was one other person he should be talking to. His oldest and best friend who'd been by his side for so long. He made sure to close the door to the living room before he dialed the number.

"Alec? You never call this late. What's the matter?" Duncan was alarmed instantaneously.

"Nothing. Just felt like talking," Hardy evaded the question. He fell heavily onto the sofa.

Duncan snorted into the phone. "Seriously? I don't believe you. Out with it before I have to yell at you."

"Saw my doctor this morning," Hardy said tonelessly. He closed his eyes, resting a hand over his face.

"Oh right, the procedure. It's tomorrow, isn't it?" Duncan reminded himself. There was water running in the background.

"Aye," came Hardy's monosyllabic answer.

"How's the family taking it?" Duncan inquired, with a muffled voice. There was a scrubbing sound and a clatter. The noises grated on Hardy's nerves.

"Duncan, what the hell are you doing?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Brushing teeth. It's late, gotta take Cory to London tomorrow, remember?"

"Could you stop doing that? It's annoying," Hardy snarled into the phone.

There was silence on the other end. "Alec, what's really going on?" Duncan probed gently.

Hardy opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His heart heavy, he told his friend what Emily had explained to him earlier.

"She thinks there is a real risk of me not surviving the procedure," he ended his tale, voice not more than a whisper.

Duncan was breathing heavily into the phone. It clearly wasn't what he'd expected when Hardy called him. It took him a while to compose himself. For once, Hardy was faster with his words than his friend.

"'M sorry, Duncan. Shouldn't have rang like this. I didn't want to…" – he faltered for a split second – "… go without talking to you one more time. Say thanks for everything, I guess."

He had leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. His head was resting in his hand, fingers rubbing over his stinging eyes.

"I don't wanna hear it, Alec," Duncan growled defiantly into the phone.

Hardy sighed. "Please, Duncan. Don't be like that. All I meant to do is…" His voice broke, unable to articulate his wish to have a chance to say goodbye to the man who was like a brother to him.

Duncan made a funny noise and Hardy wondered if he was crying on the other side. The two men sat in silence for a while, each hanging onto their own thoughts. Finally, Duncan spoke, his voice softer than Hardy had ever heard it.

"Alec, you know how much you mean to me. You've been my best friend for almost three decades, you're the godfather of my children, you saved my life…" He fell silent for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths, struggling with his emotions.

"But if you think you can use your stupid heart as an excuse to bail out on me, then you're wrong. You better be your usual stubborn self and refuse to budge. Because if you don't, I'll come and slap some sense into your thick Scottish brain. Do you hear me, you bloody eejit?" By now Duncan was crying and shouting at the same time. The soft voice had been replaced by a rough tremble and his accent was more pronounced than ever.

Duncan wasn't the only one crying. Hardy wiped at his face. "Did I really have to get a deadly heart condition before you acknowledge that being stubborn isn't a bad thing?" he joked meekly.

Duncan huffed. "Good lord, you seriously have to work on your witty come backs. My four-year-old can do better than that. In fact your formerly four-year-old does better than that, at least judging by what my boy tells me."

Hardy's ears perked up. "Your boy? Is he talking about Daisy?" He cringed at the pitch shift in his voice. You're a moron, Hardy, he scolded himself.

Duncan chortled. "Do I hear paternal fears ringing in these words?"

"Ach, just wait until Fiona is that age," Hardy retorted. That shut Duncan up quickly.

After a brief pause, Duncan asked quietly, "Have you told her?"

"No," Hardy confessed, voice rough.

"Are you going to?"

It took Hardy a long time to be able to admit to the truth. "I can't." He paused. "I can't burden her with something that might not even happen."

"Hm," was all that Duncan said. And after another long silence, he added, "I get that. I don't think I could either. But I did appreciate the chance to talk to you tonight. Maybe she deserves the same?"

Hardy slowly closed his eyes and slumped back on the sofa. "She does," he breathed. "But I don't have it in me. My heart doesn't have it in it. Literally."

"I see. Caught between a rock and a hard place, ey?"

"Yup," Hardy sighed.

"It's all right, Alec. You'll do fine tomorrow and then all of this was a non-issue. Be ready for her to be mad at you though that you didn't tell her," Duncan reminded him.

"I'll gladly take that if it means I'll still be around," Hardy replied with much less sarcasm than he had intended to. Duncan hummed in agreement.

"So, is Tess coming with you then?" he wanted to know.

Hardy stayed mute. It was almost midnight and Tess wasn't home yet.

"Alec? You have told her, right?" Duncan questioned with a stern voice.

"Not yet," Hardy conceded subdued.

"For fuck's sake, are you out of your mind?" Duncan yelled into the phone. "It's one thing not to tell your child, but your wife?"

"She hasn't come home yet. I had a deal with my doctor to help me, but Tess got held up at work," Hardy defended himself weakly.

"You guys are still arguing all the time?" Duncan asked.

"Too often, that's for sure."

Duncan groaned and Hardy could picture his exasperated face as if he was in front of him.

"You're unbelievable. You better stay up until she gets there and you can finally explain yourself and ask for help. God, I really wish I could be there to slap you, you moron. How you survive without me being around is a mystery to me." Duncan grumbled.

Hardy didn't say anything, knowing that his friend didn't expect an answer.

There was a knock on the door and Daisy stuck her head in.

"Dad. I'm going to bed," she whispered not wanting to disturb him on the phone.

He mouthed 'be right there' and gestured for her to close the door. Once she was gone he turned his attention back to his friend.

"Duncan, I've got to go. Want to say good night to Daisy," he added as an explanation.

Duncan took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "All right then. Good luck tomorrow. Text me how it went," he ordered Hardy.

Hardy swallowed. "I will. And thanks for everything."

"You're welcome," Duncan replied fondly.

"Bye, Duncan." Hardy's voice was betraying his feelings.

"You know I love you, Alec. And I expect your sorry arse to be around for much longer. Is that understood?"

"Aye," was all Hardy could say.

"I'll talk to you soon. Bye for now," Duncan said gently and hung up the phone before Hardy could add anything else. He stared at the dark screen until his eyes were dry and he felt strong enough to wish his daughter a good night.

Hardy hesitated before knocking on her door. His knuckles hovered over the wooden sign that spelled out Daisy's name in animal letters. Tracing the hippo that shaped the 'D' with his fingers, he idly wondered how much longer that remnant of her childhood would withstand the storm of teenaged independence and fast stream towards adulthood. He closed his eyes, blinking away the stinging tears. He might never know.

Stop it, he told himself, drawing upon all the love he had for his daughter to pull himself together. He mustn't scare her. That shouldn't be last thing she remembered about her father. He knocked and slowly opened the door.

She was lying on her side in her bed, hunched over a book. He spotted the purple unicorn wedged into a corner and smiled. The night stand lamp bathed her in a soft light. Her hair was falling over her face and onto the edge of the book. She seemed too engrossed in her story to notice him. His eyes rested on his child, committing every detail to his memory.

Quietly, he stepped up to the bed and lowered himself onto the edge.

"What're you reading?" he inquired, voice low, Scottish accent thick.

Her head jerked up. "Oh, Dad. I didn't hear you come in." She grinned and showed him the book.

Hardy's eyebrows went up. "Haven't you read that a million times by now?"

"So? Haven't you?" she threw his question back at him. His lips curled up. He sure had. He took the book out of her hand, keeping it open on the page she'd been reading.

"Do you mind?" he asked. She shook her head and made room for him to scoot closer. She must have just started as she was at the beginning of the first chapter. He put his arm around her and she snuggled up against his chest like she had when she was a little child. His warm baritone sounded across the room when he began to read to his daughter.

"'It will be a bad night,' said Mr. Dawson. 'There's Old George with the hay', said James. 'Come on, Will.'

'You go,' the farmer said. 'I want Will to pick up something for your mother from the house.' But he did not move, as James pushed the handcart off towards the barn; he stood with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his old tweed jacket, looking at the darkening sky.

'The Walker is abroad,' he said again. 'And this night will be bad, and tomorrow will be beyond imagining.'"

Hardy's voice faltered. He had forgotten how foreboding the first chapter of "The Dark Is Rising" was. He closed his eyes, shutting out everything, and took in a deep breath. When he opened them again, Daisy's gaze was fixed on him.

"Dad?" The single word carried more trepidation than he could bear. He pulled her closer and hid his face in her hair, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head.

"Sorry, darlin'. I remembered when I read it to you for the first time and you got all scared. A bit soppy, I know." It wasn't even a lie. He had thought of her initial reaction to one of his favorite childhood books when he began reading the passage but that wasn't why he couldn't go on.

She gave him an inquisitive look but didn't question further. "Yeah, a bit. You and your silly heart. One day that'll be the end of you," she teased, poking his chest. "I should make you a sign for your desk – DI Hardy – a grumpy grouch by day and a sentimental numpty by night."

She grinned and he almost choked on his stifled sob. He sputtered and coughed, while she patted his back.

"There, there, Dad. It was just a joke. Don't die on me here," she huffed while trying not to laugh.

His eyes were boring into her and he inwardly cursed the cruelty of the universe that had made her choose those words. Once he recovered, he wordlessly gestured for her to come back to his side. She complied and he picked up the book again. He read to her until she was getting heavy in his arm, breathing deeply now. He stopped and looked down at his sleeping child. The book slid out of his hands and she'd be mad at him the next day for not putting a mark on the page they'd left off.

He rested his head on hers for a few moments longer, then carefully pulled his body out from under her. She stirred and muttered "Good night, Dad," snuggling into her pillow. He tucked the blanket around her and stroked her hair. "Good night, darlin'," he breathed into her ear. Then he kissed her forehead, his lips lingering until a tear dropped onto her skin. He gently wiped it away with his thumb, while turning off the light with his other hand. Before he moved away from the bed, he whispered, "I love you, always."

The door closed quietly behind him and he sneaked down the stairs to wait for his wife to come home, hoping for solace in her loving embrace.

A/N: I have to admit that writing this chapter took sort of a toll on me. There are so many moments in there were I choked up a bit because these characters are so close to my heart by now. I had the scene where Alec and Daisy talk in the tearoom in my head for months and I knew I would be emotional about it. And so I was. But the bedtime scene was what really got to me. Full disclosure, I made myself cry while typing it up. I apologize for any tears that I might have caused and I am fully aware that the chapter is quite soppy and that Daisy would not approve, but as the song that gave inspiration for the name of the story says – 'You already know, how it ends' - things in Alec's life are ending. Please feel free to yell and scream at me. Hazelmist already did (quote of the day: YOU ARE KILLLLLLINNNNGGG MEEE ONE FREAKING LINE AT A TIME!).

Oh, and believe it or not – when I was thinking about which book to pick for them to read, I ended up choosing "The Dark Is Rising" because it was one of my favorites as a child. I swear, I randomly opened the book and the first paragraph I looked at was the one that ended up in the story. Just like Alec, I had forgotten how foreboding it was and I was blown away about the coincidence of it fitting so well.