A/N: Thanks again everyone for reading and commenting. Alec meets the cardiologist… I should say it's not a happy conversation…

"Only A Guest To Your Own Life"

The cardiologist had had his fair warning about his new patient and was firm right from the start. Hardy didn't care so much for the stiff attitude but he had no one but himself to blame. The ground rules were laid out and one glare from Duncan made him shut up before he could even come up with a sarcastic remark. When his new doctor relayed a message from Emily Abbott, his former cardiologist, Hardy's ears perked up. It was simple - listen and follow the instructions if he wanted her back after her maternity leave. He sat silently at the edge of his bed while Dr. Davis examined him. When he pulled over a chair Hardy knew he was in for a long talk.

"Mr. Hardy, do you want your friend to be here?"

Hardy exchanged a glance with Duncan whose face was neutral, giving Hardy the chance to opt for privacy.

"No, it's all right. I don't mind," he said hesitantly, trying out the idea of having someone around to share the bad news.

"I'm going to be very frank with you, Mr. Hardy, because Dr. Abbott told me that works best to deal with your somewhat stubborn attitude."

Hardy let out a grunt. Another glare from Duncan saved his new doctor from the obligatory eye rolling that usually accompanied Hardy's general feeling of exasperation.

"I reviewed your previous records and the data we have from this admission. It's been about five weeks since your last cardiac arrest and it seems you haven't recovered much since then. Dr. Abbott relayed her concerns about the safety of the pacemaker procedure and I have to agree with her. You're in no condition to go through with it right now."

It was just as Hardy had suspected. He found himself back where he had been several times already over the past year and a half. Willing but not able to. He scrubbed his hands over his face. Duncan's green eyes didn't leave him for one split second, and Hardy couldn't handle the compassion in them. He didn't deserve any of it. Procrastination and poor choices had led him to this day and now he had no way out.

"How long this time then?" he sighed.

"Obviously you need it to be done as soon as possible but the risks of the actual procedure outweigh the benefits. At least right now. I would say at least another three to four weeks but we'd have to assess you again before we can make it definitive."

Hardy nodded, mouth slightly open. He knew the drill. More tests, more waiting, more bureaucracy. Duncan didn't though.

"What do you mean three to four weeks? What if he has another attack in between? He could be dead by then," Duncan blurted out, concern washing away any tact he might have had.

"Oh, thanks for that. Who's talking about dying now?" Hardy grumbled.

The doctor looked from one to the other, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"It seems, Mr. Hardy, you are not surprised about this?"

"No. I've heard it before. Thought you talked to Emily?" He sounded snarkier than he wanted but the whole situation was grating on his nerves. He was done. The meeting with the cardiologist hadn't brought anything new. He stood up, pulling the leads off his chest.

"What do you think you're doing?" Duncan asked annoyed.

"I'm leaving. It's the same story. What else is there to talk about? I'll come to the follow up appointment and -"

"I'd like to discuss the progression of your heart failure with you, Mr. Hardy, and what we're going to do about it. How's that for a new story?" Dr. Davis interrupted him, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Hardy stopped dead in his tracks. Last time he had seen Emily, shortly before he had left Sandbrook, his heart had recovered fully from his last major incident, just like it had every time up until then. Granted it had taken him longer, and he had noted that he was more fatigued after arriving in Broadchurch, but he had attributed it to the stress Danny's case and juggling Claire at the same time was putting on him. And then after the boatyard and being kicked off the force he stopped paying attention. Or better said, ignored everything.

Duncan sucked in some air. "Heart failure? Is that why he can't walk up a flight of stairs without having to catch his breath?"

"Now that's interesting," the doctor commented while taking notes. "Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"Yes, Alec, would you?" Duncan echoed Dr. Davis' words with an underlying sarcastic tone.

Hardy sighed and plopped back onto the bed. He gave up. Fighting it was too tiring. "Fine. I haven't exactly been able to exert myself a lot since my last hospital stay. It wasn't great before but since then it's been worse."

"Go on," the cardiologist prompted.

Hardy squirmed. "Erm... I can't make it up the stairs to my room without needing to stop. Before it just exhausted me and at times provoked an attack. Now, I need to pause and wait 'till I have enough air. I can maybe walk half a mile which is similar to what happened before, but instead of getting better it's getting worse. I'm short of breath a lot and sweat a lot. Eating tires me out and I have no appetite. And I'm so exhausted all the time..." His words came out faster and faster, as he was confessing to everything that ailed him.

"Can you sleep lying flat? Do you feel like you're drowning at night?" The doctor only looked up from his notes when he heard Hardy's sarcastic snort.

"Do you?" He tilted his head, face curious.

"You're not serious are you? What did Emily actually tell you?" Hardy snapped, face all scrunched up.

When Dr. Davis looked more and more confused and Hardy decided to sulk, Duncan jumped in, feeling pity for the seemingly clueless doctor. Or maybe it was for Hardy after all.

"My friend here suffered a near drowning event a couple years back while rescuing the body of a murdered child from a river. Since then he has frequent nightmares of drowning and choking on water. So yes, he does feel like that, but for other reasons maybe?"

"Oh. I see." The doctor paused for a moment, then persisted, "So, is it getting worse though? And do you sleep flat, yes or no?"

Hardy exchanged a glance with Duncan. Then he ducked his head and said subdued, "Yes, it's been getting worse. And no I can't sleep flat any longer, maybe not for a couple weeks now."

"Hm. Not surprising." The doctor put down the chart. He leaned forward and made sure to hold Hardy's gaze. "Mr. Hardy, from your records it seems you probably already had a very mild degree of heart failure when you last saw Dr. Abbott. By the time you got admitted here the first time it had gotten worse, that's why we wanted to keep you. After the cardiac arrest about a month ago your heart function never really recovered, if anything it got worse. This is serious and you can't ignore it. And I'm not saying this because I realize how stubborn you are but because your body won't allow you to. If we don't help you with that now you'll be in rather bad shape soon."

"I don't want to take those pills again, the ones that make me go to the bathroom every half hour," Hardy whined. Duncan frowned at him. Then he turned to the doctor, smiling and putting a stalling hand on his friend's arm.

"He will do everything you say and I'm going to make sure of it," he assured the physician quietly, not leaving any room for doubt that that was what would happen.

"Great. Then let's go over the other stuff first before we discuss medications." The doctor mustered all the enthusiasm he could.

"Other stuff?" Hardy's voice pitch shifted with the annoyance.

"Considering the progression of your condition and the risk to trigger an episode, I would strongly recommend avoiding any exertion until your heart function improves. Move your bedroom, climbing stairs that you can avoid is unnecessary. If you feel like going for short walks I'd say that would be okay but watch for when you get too tired or short of breath. No stress and I will call your work to put you on medical leave until -"

"Absolutely not," Hardy interjected vehemently. "I'm not giving you permission to do that. I'm not even on active duty. I need that stupid job. It would drive me crazy if I had nothing to do all day long." And if he didn't have an excuse to leave the cottage and Claire. He'd also never be able to pay child support, something he could not let happen.

"Alec, be reasonable. If he -"

"I said no. I'm not doing that. I'm not giving up working. I can't. Why doesn't anyone listen?" He stood suddenly with the anger growing in his stomach. Desperate tears were stinging his eyes and his hands clenched into fists.

"Don't be stupid. You don't even like the job. You said so yourself," Duncan argued.

Hardy just shook his head. Yes, he hated the teaching job, but it was all that he had left. He was a person with needs and if they took away the last bit of self-respect and control he had, there was nothing. Duncan had already humiliated him by paying for his child and now he wanted to take away his last bit of dignity. He spun around, bracing his arms on the bed and breathing heavily, facing away. He couldn't look at them.

A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder blade. "It's all right, Mr. Hardy. Don't worry. I hear you. It's important for you to be self-sufficient and keep that job. Please believe me, I'm on your side. I'm here to work with you until your doctor who you trust comes back. I've talked to her for a long time and she told me a few things she thought I should know and before you worry, I very much respect your privacy. You're safe with me."

"Don't take it away from me, please," Hardy muttered just when his legs gave out under him and the doctor gently guided him back onto the bed. Together with Duncan they maneuvered him to lie down again. He was shaking, trying to suppress the urge to cough. He lost the battle and ended up scaring Duncan when he finally choked up some pink frothy mucous.

The doctor frowned. "How long has this been going on? And please be honest." He connected Hardy back to the monitor, tucked the oxygen cannula back in his nose and rang the call bell.

Hardy struggled to have enough air to answer. "About a week or so."

"And you didn't seek medical care?" Duncan exclaimed incredulously, staring down Hardy who shrunk into his pillow.

"Mr. McCormick, I don't think scolding your friend is exactly helpful at this very moment. How about you go and get a cup of tea?"

Duncan opened his mouth to protest, but the doctor's stern glance sent the message home and he left the room.

"I hope you don't mind me asking him to leave but there are a few things I have a feeling you might want to hear in private first, especially as he's new to this and you aren't. I think he needs a moment to digest some of the information."

Hardy pressed his lips together and nodded. They waited in silence for the nurse to deliver the medication the doctor had ordered.

"Dr. Abbott told me that last winter she had you on treatment for heart failure which you more or less recovered from."

"Aye," came Hardy's monosyllabic answer. He wasn't sure where this was going but he didn't like the expression on the doctor's face. It was too nice. Usually a sign for bad news to follow.

"Your heart isn't going to recover fully this time. It's been affected too much by the last arrest." He paused to let it sink in.

Hardy looked away out the window. The rain had stopped but the light remained grey. They finally had reached the point Emily had been worried about.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hardy."

Hardy mumbled a "Thank you" and studied the loose thread on his blanket. He picked at it despite his fingers trembling. It unraveled in front of him and suddenly there was this gaping hole that he didn't know how to fix.

The doctor put a steadying hand on his. "You can make it through this and with the right treatment you'll improve so that you finally can get that pacemaker implanted. Your heart is bad but not that bad that we can't do anything about it."

"Do you think I could ever get my job back? As a detective, I mean," Hardy asked, voice breaking.

The doctor hesitated. "To be honest with you, I don't know. But I think there is a possibility and it should be a goal to work towards."

To Hardy that sounded like a no and the light at the end of the tunnel faded. He closed his eyes.

"Mr. Hardy, there is one more thing Dr. Abbott mentioned."

Hardy sighed again. "The anti-depressants?"

"Yes. She asked me to make sure you're okay and don't need help. She was more worried about that than about the heart."

Hardy's lips curled up in a wry smile. "She would be, wouldn't she? I'm all right. My mood's not been the greatest but to be frank with you the news about the heart failure isn't unexpected. I'm not an imbecile who can't read the signs."

"You just chose to ignore them," the doctor interjected.

Hardy huffed. "My life hasn't been the greatest lately. Sometimes ignoring things is the only way to stay afloat. I'm not going to jump off those bloody cliffs but I have thought about it. I'm not going to lie. I'm very much alone and that doesn't help. That's why I want to keep that bloody job so I'm not left with myself all day long."

The doctor's pensive eyes rested on him for a while. "If you talk to our psychiatrist and he reassures me that you're safe, I'm fine with that. I'm not exactly trained in non-physical matters of the heart. I can help you keep that job though if you cooperate."

Hardy groaned. "Seriously, a shrink? Even Emily never made me do that."

"Precisely. And that's why she strongly recommended it to me."

Hardy looked up. "She did?" The doctor nodded. "Fine. Send your shrink, I'll talk with him. Can I leave then?" He was antsy to get out of the hospital, back to pretending things were still the same.

"You can try but I doubt you would get very far until we tune you up a bit more. Just to reiterate, your heart is barely making it right now. I have you on a few drips and I'm going to start you on a new medication called digoxin that will help but needs careful adjustment as it can be rather toxic if used wrong. I'd say it'll take maybe two or three days at least." The doctor got up, patting him on the arm.

"I can't miss work," Hardy was quick to reply. He really couldn't. That was part of the deal they had offered him. If they had any indication that his heart wasn't holding up, he'd be out.

"I can't keep you here but if you want to get better you should stay."

"Of course he's staying. Not leaving until you say he's good to go," Duncan growled, leaning against the door frame.

Hardy got angry again. "The two of you don't get it. If I miss work 'cause of my heart condition, I'm out. Finished. Non-negotiable. I can't lose that job," he all but shouted. Unfortunately the ensuing coughing fit didn't help his cause and he weakly fell back onto his pillows. And then he gave up. He had no fight left in him. His life sucked and nothing ever seemed to work out in his favor any more.

"Ach, fuck it. I'm so done with all this shite, do whatever you want," he threw at them in between heavy breaths. "Why am I even still arguing, it's futile 'cause life's a pile of horseshit and I'm gonna die anyway and no one will care, so..."

This time Duncan did slap him in the face. His large shoulders were heaving with the fury he was holding back and his voice was trembling. "If you ever say that again, it won't be your heart condition that takes you out. You're such a bloody moron."

Hardy rubbed his cheek and stared wide eyed at his oldest friend. He rarely had seen Duncan get this upset and it impressed him enough to shut up. He shot a sideways glance at the doctor who looked a bit pale around the nose. Bollocks, now they scared him off too.

After clearing his throat, the doctor found courage to speak. "I guess maybe I should have mentioned that we don't have to give a reason to your work why you're not coming in. Patient confidentiality, you know."

"Oh," Hardy and Duncan said at the same time. Hardy felt like an idiot, his ears burning. Judging from the redness on Duncan's face his friend shared a similar sentiment.

"I'm going to leave the two of you alone. It seems you might want to clear up a few things. I'll get things going for what we've talked about, Mr. Hardy. And I'll come back to discuss the digoxin with you after the nurse gives you the first dose." Despite all his patience, it seemed the doctor couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Hardy wasn't sure if it was in his imagination or if the doctor really mumbled something about hating to owe someone.

"You slapped me."

"You deserved it."

They stared each other down until Hardy was the first to look away.

"Thought so," Duncan stated drily. "Here." He threw the local paper onto the bed.

"What do you want me to do with that?"

"No stairs, remember? Might as well use this as an opportunity to find a place to live. Or do you want me to tell your lovely hotel owner that you need to move rooms?" The challenge was unmistakable.

"I don't care where I live, Duncan," Hardy retorted, throwing the paper back at him.

"Stop being so stupid. You've lived out of a suitcase now for how long? As you don't seem to want to leave this God forsaken place, it's time for you to make a home for yourself." Duncan was still disgruntled over Hardy's stubbornness.

"Seriously? A home? Why? There is no one to make a home with or for. The only woman who came close to being nice to me lately hates my guts 'cause I took her job and arrested her pedophile of a husband and my daughter hates me even more. I really don't see the point."

Duncan sat down on the bed. He found Hardy's eyes. "It's for you, Alec. You can't continue living as if you are going to die tomorrow. You have to start taking care of yourself and finding a place to stay is part of that. It doesn't have to be fancy or big, you don't need to get your own stuff, but somewhere that's not just a hotel room as if you're only a guest to your own life. Please?"

Duncan's plea was sincere and something in Hardy broke. His fingers rubbed over his eyes and he struggled to keep his composure. He opened his mouth but closed it again, not knowing what to say. Duncan knew him well enough.

"I'll take that as a yes. I've already marked a few things down and as soon as you're out of here, we'll go look at places." Duncan's enthusiasm was almost infectious enough to lighten Hardy's mood. His eyes fell on something else that judging by the doodles around it had caught Duncan's attention - the local Harvest festival.

Eyeing it suspiciously, Hardy inquired, "You're not planning on going to that, are you?"

"Absolutely. Dancing on the cliffs - who could say no to that?" Duncan grinned from one ear to the other.

"I'd consider that unnecessary exertion," Hardy scoffed.

"Oh, come on, a waltz or two hasn't hurt anybody." Hardy threw the newspaper at his friend who caught it easily, laughing now.

"If you're out in time, we're going. Call it rehab if you like."

Hardy groaned. Sometimes he hated his friend.

A/N: Full disclosure – I own stock in a tissue paper company – nah, just kidding. But seriously, for those of you who are not familiar with my take on Alec's heart condition, this might have come a bit out of the blue. For those who have read some of my other stuff and possibly even discussed it with me, I have my ideas about why he earned the nickname "shit face" in S2 even more than in S1. He sure wasn't a healthy man in S1 but compared to S2, Hardy looked like a spring chicken during the time they worked on Danny's case – until his heart gave finally out on him. So this is about a month or so later and here we are. Also, I never quite bought into the "no-more-broken-heart" thing, but I'm not getting into it again (and bore people to death). I hope you can forgive me for all the heart ache. Alec's getting help after all.

Next chapter should be up soon… it features grapes and what actually inspired this whole story ;-)