A/N: To everyone who's still with me... thank you! Alec is going to a dark place... be warned, this chapter is not a happy one and also not for the faint of heart. *hands out tissues and lends a shoulder to cry on*

CHAPTER 33

The first thing breaking through the haze in his brain was a sharp chemical smell stinging his nose. He tried to hold his breath but couldn't because something was pushing air into his lungs. Something was also shoved down his throat making him gag and retch. He coughed but there wasn't any sound. Panicked, he tried to reach for his mouth but a sharp pain in his hand stopped him from moving. His eyes fluttered open for a split second, only to fall shut immediately, his consciousness not quite ready for visual stimulation.

"Alec..."

He recognized his name but whatever else followed was incomprehensible. He was fighting the force that continued to push air into his lungs. Again, he attempted to open his eyes but the light was too painful.

"Alec, cough!"

He obeyed the familiar voice and did the best he could. The sensation of something being ripped out of his chest and throat was horrifyingly frightening and he gasped for air. It was hard to breathe, but he realized there was nothing any more that was forcing it on him. It took him a moment to recognize the ragged noises of a person breathing were his own. There was a flow of air around his mouth and it became easier to fill his lungs with it.

"Alec, can you open your eyes?" the familiar voice asked.

He didn't want to. He didn't want to come back to this world where he was so alone, surrounded only by pain. He couldn't quite remember why he felt that way, only that it was the last thing on his mind before everything had gone dark.

"Alec, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." The voice was anxious. It was a woman. He could feel her hand in his. It was warm and gently rubbing his palm. It made him feel better and he was grateful, so he squeezed her hand.

"Oh, thank God, he heard you," a different voice chimed in. This one was a man. Baxter. His friend who didn't let him go to the dark.

"I hope so. I'd feel better though, if he opened his eyes," the woman said. Emily. His doctor who took care of him despite his stubborn behavior. He didn't want to disappoint her again, so he forced himself to move his heavy eyelids.

The light was so painful he groaned. And then it got better. He blinked a few times until the blurriness subsided and shapes became clearer. White ceiling tiles crawled into focus and he let his gaze drift around until he found a face. She was smiling at him.

"Hi Alec. Welcome back!" she greeted him gently, putting her hand on his shoulder. He opened his mouth feeling the need to say something - he didn't quite know what - but she shushed him anyway.

"Shshsh, don't try to talk yet. Your throat's all sore, give it a bit."

He closed his eyes again, feeling overwhelmed by all the light and colors swirling around him. His world was in a state of confusion. He felt sluggish and couldn't quite formulate a clear thought. He was trying to remember how he got wherever it was that he was now. His mind was adrift and he was about to doze off when her bloated purple face jumped at him like a jack in the box. He jerked his eyes open and screamed. Or at least he thought he did, but all that was coming out of his mouth was a croaked gasp.

Things around him started beeping and people were frantically talking over each other. There was pain in his chest and his heart was pounding away. He felt a burning sensation on his hand and then crawling up his arm until it was gone and his heart calmed down. He tried to keep his eyes open, scared of the ghost he'd seen.

"Alec, you have to calm down. Please try and rest. I don't want to sedate you again," Emily pleaded with him.

It cost him all his strength to explain. He barely recognized his own hoarse voice, his words all slurred as his mouth didn't quite want to follow orders.

"'er face… cannae close... m'eyes… she's there," he stammered.

She brushed his hair that stuck to his forehead out of his face. "It's just a bad dream, Alec. I know you're confused and this is all a bit much, but believe me she's not really there. Try to go back to sleep, you'll feel better when you wake up." Her voice was soothing him and she was stroking his head, calming him down until he started to drift off. He was almost gone when they talked more.

"He seems rather out of it. You don't think his brain –"

Baxter's worried voice was interrupted by Emily. "Not here, Ed. He might be awake enough to listen. And the answer is, I don't know." She sounded just as concerned. He wondered why, but never finished his thought before falling asleep.

When Hardy woke up again, he was alone. It was easier to find his bearings this time and he quickly realized he was in hospital. Oxygen was whistling into his nose via a cannula and there was something tugging on his neck. Squinting down his side, he brought up his trembling hand and realized it was a large IV line which connected him to a multitude of IV pumps to the side of his bed.

Christ. If they had put that thing in him it must have been bad. And it had been. In fact it still was. Memories of the previous night – had it been longer than that? - were pouring into his mind.

Tess crying… her smug smile… her derision for him… her confession about the affair… with fucking Dave Thompson of all people.

He didn't know where to begin naming his emotions. He felt impossibly hurt and shamed alike, but foremost he felt betrayed and so utterly lonely.

'But I don't love you anymore'

Her words were burned into his memory, leaving a gaping wound behind. He never knew, didn't have the slightest idea. How could he have not seen it? Had he? All the fighting and rejections, all the stabs at him not being a good father, all those times she hadn't been around. How could he have not realized what was going on?

He shifted in his bed and a sharp stab in his chest made him almost pass out. Bloody hell, another broken rib? He peeked under his gown and was rather taken aback by the sight. There was bruising over his sternum and burn marks in the shape of the defibrillator paddles. He swallowed hard and tried to remember past his conversation with Tess. He couldn't really. There were some fuzzy images of Baxter in his office, maybe a car ride, but nothing beyond that.

What he did recall though was the pain, the incredible physical and emotional toll that Tess' confession had taken on him. He was breathing harder now and he noted the beeping of the monitor pick up the pace, soon to be followed by the familiar empty sensation in his chest. He welcomed it. Why shouldn't his heart reflect how he was feeling inside? He gave in, drifting off into the dark, only wanting to escape the despair.

They didn't let him though, forcing a breathing mask over his mouth and pushing air into him. When the defibrillator delivered its excruciatingly painful shock, he wanted to hit them, defend himself, but was too weak to do so. Tears were running down his face and a whimper escaped his throat. He wished for it to end so badly, it hurt.

"Alec?"

He heard his name and struggled to open his eyes. Somebody wiped gingerly at his wet cheeks.

"Alec? Can you hear me?"

He recognized Emily Abbott's voice and held onto it. He tried to speak, but couldn't. Finally, he managed to lift his leaded eyelids. Her face was blurry but after he blinked away some of the tears, he was able to focus on her kind features. She looked so worried.

"'M s'rry," was all he could think of saying, feeling guilty for making her so anxious.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief. "What do you think you need to be sorry for, you bloody idiot?"

"'S not g'd bedside m'nners… callin' y'r patient idi't," he mumbled, grappling to get enough air into his lungs.

Her clear laughter rang in his ears. "Look at that, barely alive and yet being cheeky with me."

The worry was leaving her expression which made him feel better. He still was very confused and it was hard to focus on what was going on around him.

"Wha' happen'd?"

She tilted her head, contemplating her next words.

"Tell me, please," he demanded breathlessly.

"All right. Ed Baxter found you in his office on the morning after the cath. You were in bad shape, probably suffering from the effects of a serious attack or near cardiac arrest. We don't know. Do you remember that night?" she asked cautiously.

His eyes fell shut. She knew, Baxter must have told her. She was just testing if he did as well. Trying to protect him presumably. He nodded.

"Talkin' to Tess…" He sucked in a breath, flinching with the pain of the rib fracture.

"Right. And after? Do you remember anything after?" She remained guarded.

He moved his head side to side on the pillow.

"Not really." His words were becoming clearer now and his brain was less sluggish.

"Ed brought you to A&E. Alec, your heart stopped for almost five minutes and we barely got you back." She paused, letting him take in the information.

His mind was slow, unable to filter his thoughts. Before he could hold back, he said, "Maybe you shouldn't have."

She was equally slow with hiding her shocked expression. "Alec…" she whispered, at a loss for words.

"I'm tired, can I sleep now?" He didn't want to talk any more. What had been said was said and he was too worn out to think about it. His fingers found their way to rub his stinging eyes, desperately hiding more tears.

She lightly grazed his shoulder. "Of course. Rest. We'll talk more when you wake up," she said with a sad voice. She gave him a quick squeeze like she always did, comforting him. It was the last thing he remembered before drifting away.

Baxter had gone to grab a quick cup of tea after they had taken out the breathing tube. Hardy had still been rather sedated and had gone back to sleep. Baxter didn't want to leave, but he also knew from experience that if he didn't make an effort to take care of himself while spending his days in the hospital, it wouldn't end well. Emily was around, so he didn't feel quite as guilty about leaving Hardy alone.

When Baxter returned, he found Emily right outside Hardy's room. She was leaning against the wall, hands buried into her hair, hiding her head in between her elbows. She looked distressed and was breathing hard. If Baxter had to guess, he'd say she was trying to regain her composure.

Worried something bad had happened, he approached her. "Emily, what's going on?"

She lifted her head and his stomach clenched up in knot. Her eyes were glittering with tears.

Fearing the worst, he asked, "He's not…?" He couldn't finish his sentence.

She shook her head. "No, but he wants to be," she whispered, unable to say it any louder.

Baxter's body stiffened up. He was stunned. That was not what he had expected. Obviously Hardy was deeply wounded by his wife's betrayal, but that? Hardy had never struck him as someone who would give up on life. Being as stubborn as he was, it seemed so contradictory to his nature. And even if his world was shattered by his wife's adultery, there was always Daisy. It looked like someone needed a stark reminder of his priorities.

Baxter's expression reflected his determination. "Is he awake?"

"No, he wanted to sleep. But I think it's an excuse. What he really wanted was to avoid talking," she replied, hanging her head. She seemed so defeated, it tugged on Baxter's heart.

Baxter stepped closer and put his hand on her arm. "I assume you've seen him with his daughter?" She nodded. "Good, because she is what will keep him going. I'll talk to him. There are some things you don't know about and I can't tell you, active police investigation, but he'll have to face those as well. He's in a bad spot but I've known him for almost a decade and he's going to fight his way out of it. He always does. He's way too stubborn to not put up a fight."

She looked at him, doubt darkening her eyes. "Everyone has their breaking point, Ed. He might have reached his. You were not there just now. Be careful how hard you push him, he's rather fragile at the moment. His heart can't take much more." She sounded very protective and if Baxter didn't already like her, he would most definitely do so now.

What if she was right though? Besides having to come to terms with Tess' affair, Baxter had no idea how the loss of the pendant might affect Hardy. He had the tendency to be extremely hard on himself for even minor mishaps, may they be of his own doing or of his team. Baxter rubbed his tired eyes.

"I'll be gentle. Unfortunately, subtle doesn't work so well with him. He's gets rather headstrong when he's got something stuck in his brain," he sighed, exasperated already.

She smiled. "Tell me about it. Should have figured that out when I caught him half naked trying to escape from the ICU."

Baxter gaped at her. "He did what?"

She chuckled. "After his first cardiac arrest, he got antsy in the middle of the night and tried to sneak out of the ICU to see his daughter. Caught him by the elevator, hospital gown barely covering him up and clinging to his IV pole to not fall over. He passed out on me before I could give him a piece of my mind. Wanker."

Despite all the heartache, Baxter had to laugh. "God, I hope he will not use that on me when I'll be giving him a bollocking at work. I'm done dragging him to the hospital."

Emily was suddenly serious again. Holding his gaze and with a somber tone, she said, "Ed, I'm sorry to tell you, but I don't think he will be able to get back to active duty any time soon. Not after this, and definitely not without that pacemaker. Considering what happened during the cath, it was unclear then how long we would have needed to wait to be able to do the surgery reasonably safely. Now it's impossible to predict. And even if he gets to the surgery and survives it, I'm not so sure that he should continue this line of work."

Baxter stared at her. He hadn't thought about that. Losing his job would be devastating for Hardy. Christ, there sure was a lot riding on that girl of his who didn't even know yet how ill her father was. He took in a deep breath and opened the door to his friend's room.

Hardy was sleeping, his body lying perfectly still. The ashen color on his face was an improvement from the day before. An oxygen cannula was stuck up his nose, replacing the breathing tube. His heartbeat crawled slowly but steadily over the monitor.

Baxter pulled over a chair, sat down and took Hardy's hand like he had before. It was still cold and clammy, a stark reminder that his friend was a long way from being healthy. At least there would be one good thing resulting from Hardy's inability to come back to work. He wouldn't have to worry any more about being his boss and could simply be his friend. Because one thing was clear, this man needed one.

The room was dark when Hardy opened his eyes again. He had waited for Baxter to leave. He felt guilty but at the same time he was frightened having to talk to him. All he wanted was to be left alone. He didn't know what day it was or how much time had passed but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered besides one thing.

'But I don't love you anymore.'

Her words echoed through his mind, louder and louder until he wanted to scream. All that escaped his throat was a choked up gurgle accompanied by pain in his body and his mind alike. The smell and the noises of the hospital together with the eerie lights from the various pieces of equipment were closing in on him, weighing down on him. He needed to get out of here, run away from everything, be by himself. Vanish physically like he was vanishing in his mind.

The monitor started alarming, irritating him more in his anguish. He fumbled in the dark and found the leads. The glue stuck to his hair on his chest and it hurt when he ripped them off. He briefly contemplated pulling out the large IV in his neck. When he tugged on it, the sharp pain from where it was sutured to his skin made him almost pass out and he let go of it. He propped himself up, struggling to a sitting position. His mind was foggy, solely able to focus on his need to escape this place.

By the time half the hospital staff barged into his door he had clambered to his feet hanging on to the IV pole for dear life.

"What the hell are you doing?" one of the nurses shouted at him, stress wiping away all professional pretense.

"'M leavin'," he croaked, taking an unsteady step towards the door. His aching body protested but he didn't care. He needed to get away from it all, save himself from the horror his life had become. The lights blurred and spun around him. He put another foot forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw three people coming for him. They easily tackled him while he was desperately trying to dodge them.

A frantic struggle to get him back to bed ensued. He ducked under the nurses' grasp. Whatever strength he had relied on left him at that moment. A yank on his neck was followed by a sharp pain that rivalled the explosion in his chest. His heart failed to pump properly, his vision became fuzzy and the noise around him distorted.

In an unexpected moment of clarity he realized that the big IV on his neck had been pulled out when he had fallen to the ground. He could feel the sticky dampness of his own blood on his back and shoulders. The cold from the floor seeped into his bones reminding him of rivers and dead children.

"Jesus, put pressure on it..."

How ironic would it be if he in the end bled to death and it wasn't his crummy heart that would do him in? The idle thought made him smile and he feared whatever of his sanity remained was leaving him together with his warm blood. He chuckled.

"Get another IV in him... needs sedation... push that fluid bolus..."

The code alarm went off and the chaos was only getting bigger with more people arriving. The world around him was spinning but he more and more felt oddly removed from what was going on. The cold was burning him now, but he didn't care. Soon it would all be over and he embraced the thought. The loneliness sucked him under and he let it.

"Go get the defibrillator... and call the blood bank."

"Alec!" Baxter's face swam in and out of focus and he reached for him, suddenly scared of what was to come. He tried to hold on to his friend's panicked eyes and voice.

"Ed," he breathed under the oxygen mask that someone had placed over his mouth and nose. He felt a firm squeeze on his hand and a voice very close to his ear.

"I'm here Alec, I'm here. Stay with me." He wasn't alone. He could come back to something. Maybe he should?

Then the hand was gone, replaced by people tugging on his arms, sticking needles into him. He groaned and tried to pull away but was too weak. The black was closing in rapidly now. This time he tried to fight it, Baxter's words pulling him back from the edge. He lost the battle and right before he passed out he felt another rib break when someone started chest compressions and his world melted in the hot white nothingness of pain.

Baxter was walking down the hallway to find Emily when the overhead code alarm of the ICU went off. He noted at first one person jogging to the room he had just come from and then all hell broke loose. Panicked, he ran back only to witness a horrifying scene.

Hardy was spread-eagled on the floor, lying in a puddle of his own blood. A nurse was using a towel to apply pressure to the neck, desperately trying to stop the bleeding without strangling her patient. People were shouting and rushing around.

Hardy was awake in all this chaos, gasping for air and his eyes darting around aimlessly. His face was getting greyer by the second. Baxter pushed himself past the hospital crowd. He called Hardy's name and was relieved when Hardy answered. He grabbed his hand, reassuring Hardy he was there with him. He wanted to think that his friend had heard him and that right before his eyes closed, there was a flicker of life in them. But then someone shoved him over, pounding on Hardy's chest, keeping his body alive.

The code alarm was blaring and Baxter thought he was in a bad movie scene while the resuscitation unfolded in front of him. They couldn't shock him until they had moved him to the bed, for fear they'd electrocute themselves while they were all standing in his blood. They dragged his limp body onto the mattress all the while struggling with stopping the bleeding and doing chest compressions. Finally, they had him where he needed to be and they got his heartbeat under control. Someone was hanging a bag with blood that they squeezed rapidly into his veins.

Baxter watched in fascinated horror when the surgeon stitched up the ripped open blood vessel and the commotion died down. He was shaking in the corner of the room, too stunned to move or say a word. The surgeon was getting ready to place another one of those big IV lines that Hardy had just yanked out of him. He avoided the bulky dressing on the right side, preparing the left carefully. Emily stopped him, a furrow etched between her brows.

"I don't think you can go there, George. He's going to need a pacemaker and ICD and if you use those veins on the left side we might have to do an open operation instead. He's not going to survive that. He barely made it through the cath the other day and that was before all of this."

Baxter didn't like the panicked sound of her voice. He had come to know her as a calm and composed physician. Seeing her like that made his stomach crunch up and his own fears soared. He balled his hands into fists, desperately trying not to fall apart.

"Your favorite patient here needs central venous access if you want him to make it at all," George, the surgeon, snapped back. They stared at each other for a moment, fighting a silent battle. Then he sighed.

"Fine, I'll do a tunneled line on the right side avoiding the injured blood vessel. Hopefully he's not going to bleed to death from that," he growled. "And you should sedate the shit out of him or even better restrain him. What the hell is the matter with this bloke anyway? Does he have a death wish?"

When George, the surgeon, saw Emily's face he fell silent. She had paled and tears were moistening her eyes. He walked over to her, pulled her into a quick hug and pecked a kiss on her cheek. It dawned on Baxter that George, the surgeon, might not only be that, but most likely Emily's spouse. He spotted the rings on their interlaced fingers, confirming his conclusion.

"I'll get it done, don't worry," George, the husband, promised, voice soft now, wiping a tear from her face. He smiled and turned around to do what he had set out to.

A nurse approached Emily, placing a hand on her back. "You know, he didn't pull it out himself. We found him up and I think he was trying to leave like he had done before. The line came out when he fought us and fell. I don't think he was lucid. He seemed so frantic."

Emily nodded and took in a deep breath. She ordered some medications and restraints. They discussed moving him closer to the nursing station in one of the rooms with the glass doors to have a better eye on him. Still, nobody had noticed Baxter. It wasn't until the smell of blood combined with the bleach in the cleaning fluid irritated his nose and his stomach finally turned, that someone realized he had been watching all along. He was retching in the trashcan when Emily came up to him. Her hand rested on his back and when he was done, she helped him up and handed him a paper towel to wipe his mouth.

"Ed, were you here the whole time?" she asked gently. He nodded, unble to articulate anything. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen this."

"And he shouldn't have been alone in this," he snapped back. "He was awake the whole time, even when you started the chest compressions. Nobody talked to him, you guys just left him like that. Treated him like a piece of meat, not like a human being." He was angry, maybe more than he should have been but his ability to hold back had faltered and he was quickly losing any composure he might have had.

"I'm sorry, you're right. We were fighting not to lose him." Her tone was flat. She walked him out of the room, allowing her husband to proceed with his surgery. They ended up in the family room. Baxter slumped down on a chair as did Emily.

"I shouldn't have left. He woke up and was alone and look what he did to himself," Baxter berated his actions. The guilt was growing in him and he didn't know how to handle it. All the tension was falling away, taking with it whatever had been holding him up until now. He tried to calm down but to no avail. First there was one stifled sob but then all the events of the past days caught up and kicked his legs out from under him.

He didn't know for how long he had cried, but eventually there were no more tears. He ran his hands over his face and looked up. Emily was sitting next to him, her eyes swollen and red.

"Do you think he tried to kill himself?" Her voice broke with the question. Baxter froze. He hadn't dared to think about it but now that she put it out in the open he couldn't look away. It took him a big effort to slip into detective mode and assess the facts.

"Your nurse said he didn't pull it out. Yes, he tried to leave but as you've told me, he's done that before. She also said he seemed not quite with it, so maybe he was simply confused and was trying to run. To me it looks like an accident. I do think though we can't leave him alone, not until we see he's clearer in his head. And until we convince ourselves he's not going to do something stupid."

"It wasn't your fault, Ed," Emily reassured him. "I didn't even think he'd be able to get up. I might have put some restraints on him if I had thought of it, knowing him and his ridiculous aversion against hospitals." She shrugged. "Maybe we should be happy that he actually tried and he's still his old stubborn self."

Baxter huffed. "Yah, right. Happy that he almost killed himself by doing so. Always look on the bright side, ey?"

"What else can we do, if not that, Ed?" She smiled at him and patted his shoulder. His lips curled up and he nodded. She got up and raked her fingers through her hair.

"I can stay until he wakes up. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up with anyway. Can't wait to tell my boss about what just happened. He's going to have a stroke over the idea that Alec will sue the hospital," she sighed and stood up.

Baxter chuckled. "Now that would be fun. If you need a witness to attest to how unreasonable and stubborn your patient is, you know where to find me." He got up as well. "Seriously though, I wouldn't be worried. Alec has an unhealthy tendency to blame himself for anything that goes wrong around him," Baxter added sarcastically. He stared at the floor, thoughts wandering to the lost evidence and how Hardy's wife had literally fucked up all the work her husband had put into the case while he was getting more and more ill by the day. He kicked the chair in his frustration.

"Ed, I know you told me that he found out his wife cheated on him and that was what put him over the edge. But you mentioned something else that is relating to your work. I'm very well aware that you can't tell me, but if you want me to be able to properly address the emotional impact all of this has on him, I need to have as much information as much as I can. I swear I will keep it confidential and nobody but you, he, and I will ever know." She was serious and the concern in her voice was painfully obvious.

Baxter was fighting it for a few heartbeats. And then he gave in. Maybe because he needed to share, maybe because it felt like the right thing to do. "His wife did not only cheat on him. She botched up the case while doing so. Vital evidence was lost and we might not be able to convict the murderer because of it."

"Oh." Emily sat down slowly. She was silent for a few moments. "Do you know why I didn't report Alec's condition to your CMO despite knowing it could kill him to continue working?" she asked quietly.

"Because you knew it would kill him just as much not to finish this case," Baxter replied, voice hollow. Their eyes locked. There wasn't any need for further explanation. They both shared a mutual understanding of Hardy's struggle.

"What a mess," she breathed, covering her mouth with her hands, shaking her head in disbelief. "What are we gonna do, Ed?"

He snorted. "I know what you're going to do. You'll make sure his crummy heart is not going to give out on him and that he doesn't do anything stupid." He paused and scratched on a dry spec of Hardy's blood on his trousers. She was right, it was all a big mess. "Not much to do about the other situation. I've been able to keep it quiet for now, but I don't know for how much longer that'll work out. I can't help but think that he's going to come up with some shit plan. He's good at that." The sarcasm in his voice was scathing.

She stood up again. "All right. Divide and conquer. I'll take care of the medical part of his broken heart and you can have the rest to deal with." She looked him in the eye. "Good luck! I'm glad I'm only his doctor and not his friend."

Baxter chuckled. He loved her dry humor. "I don't think this work distribution is entirely fair. Besides, I've got news for you." He tilted his head and continued with his voice sounding all conspiratorial. "He lets you call him Alec. You might be deeper into this than you think, my dear doctor." He winked at her.

"Go home and stop being silly, Ed." She grinned and squeezed his shoulder.

"Fine. Call me when he wakes up. I need to talk some sense into the bloody idiot." He was halfway out the door, when he stopped. "Oh, and tell your husband thank you for stitching him up."

Her head snapped around. She looked surprised. "How did you…?" His broad grin shut her up. "Ach, you're unbelievable," she moaned.

"Precisely Hardy's words." And with that he left her behind the shutting doors of the cardiac ICU.

A/N: I hope people don't think I finally went off the deep end. I wrote the escape attempt a long time ago and debated for weeks now if I should include it or not. It's based on a true story, so maybe you'll forgive me that poor Alec had to go through this. I promise although Alec is in a dark place right now, there is hope (well sort of, we all know it takes him a few years to get better, but still). THANKS FOR STICKING WITH ME while I busy myself with poking a million holes in Hardy's soul.

Oh, and I hope my trusty beta will feel better soon. This time all mistakes are truly mine.