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Alec found himself standing outside his house, just staring at the sea again. He’d been doing that a lot, lately. Trying to silence his mind by looking at the horizon, so far away, untouchable.
After finishing his cigarette he sighed slightly and then lit another one, feeling vaguely disappointed in himself.
He really shouldn't have started smoking again. Buying this pack hadn't even been his intention when walking into the shop. It had simply happened.
Alec figured he could allow himself to indulge in some old comforts, for now. He'd just have to make sure to quit before Daisy visited the next time. There was no need to worry her.
Actually, he would just not buy another pack after finishing this one. It wasn't like he was addicted again. He only needed this one pack, to provide a break from reality in his evenings. And mornings. And when he couldn't sleep.
And once he was doing better again, he wouldn't need to buy more cigarettes. After all, he would surely be alright again long before he ran out.
He was being ridiculous anyway. It had been bloody decades ago, he needed to get his act together. That phone call on Tuesday should have made him feel relieved, should have lifted one of the many weights of his shoulders, not cause him to spiral while dragging all those buried memories back to the surface.
Not that he was spiralling. He would be fine. He simply needed some time to process. One pack of cigarettes.
He suddenly noticed a voice calling him, sounding close. It might have been doing that for some time, he didn't know. He hadn't exactly been aware of his surroundings in the past few minutes. Well, the past few days, really.
“Hardy! I know you can hear me!”
And now he recognised the voice.
Miller. Of course.
The only person who would come to his house at eleven pm just to yell at him. The only person to come to his house at all, if he was being honest.
He didn't turn around. She huffed before standing beside him. For some time neither of them said anything. Then-
“I thought you stopped smoking.”
“I did,” he answered, then took another drag, feeling the smoke invade his lungs. “Should you be leaving wee Fred home alone at night?”
“He's sleeping over at a mate's house. Been excited all week. But don't change the subject!”
Miller sighed, then continued more calmly. “Let me guess. You bought that pack on Tuesday?”
She was right, of course. He didn't like how easily she read him. Or maybe he was just that obvious? Did everyone at the station suspect something was going on? He hoped not.
“What makes you think that?” he asked, trying to act unbothered by her assessment. He still hadn't properly looked at her. Alec's gaze had been firmly fixed on the horizon for what felt like it had been hours.
Of course he hadn't actually stood there for hours. After all, he was only on his second cigarette.
Ellie sighed again, this time at Alec's poorly faked nonchalance.
“You've been grumpy since that phone call you insist was ‘nothing important’. Well, more grumpy than usual. Almost like when you first came here.”
Alec nearly winced. He had hoped his change in mood wasn’t this drastically obvious. But based on Miller's description everyone would have noticed. Everyone would be wondering what had made him revert back to his old ways.
He decided he had to tell her at least a little bit of what was going on or she would never leave him alone. Besides, they were friends now. Had been for years. She knew about most unsavoury parts of his past. Tess, Sandbrook, his nightmares, his heart. She didn't know anything about this.
“I used smoking to cope. Back then. Fell back into the habit, I s'pose.”
“Back then? Sandbrook?”
“No.” He paused to fill his lungs with heavy smoke once more. “I quit before Daisy was born. Had tried to before, for Tess mostly, but only really managed when she got pregnant. Put things into perspective.”
That hadn't really answered her question, he knew that. Miller had wanted to know when he had started and not when he had stopped. But he wasn't ready to talk about that. Instead he chose to bite the bullet and avoid responding to this particular question by providing an answer to the overarching one.
“My father died. That's what that phone call was about.”
For a long moment Miller was silent. Maybe the sudden change in topic had surprised her or the revelation in itself was simply too unexpected. Maybe she was shocked he told her. He hoped this silence meant she wouldn't inquire further, would respect his privacy and just leave him to smoke and look at the horizon and definitely-not-spiral by himself.
“Oh, I'm s-”
“Don't,” he interrupted her quickly, “Please don't say ‘I'm sorry for your loss.’ It's not a loss.”
“Hardy. You're clearly upset about this. Look at you, you've gone back to smoking for the first time in two decades. If it's not a loss, then why would it cause that? It's normal to be grieving, you know.”
Oh no. She's got this all wrong, he realised. Scrambling to find a way of explaining without having to actually explain, he finally turned to look at her.
“I'm not grieving!” he exclaimed incredulously, willing her to understand, a fraught expression in his eyes. “That- that BASTARD, he- he…”
He couldn't continue that sentence. Almost shamefully he tore his gaze away from Ellie again, not able to bear the eye contact any longer.
“You've no idea what he did,” he eventually concluded under his breath, uttering the words towards the sea.
Trying to keep himself from fidgeting or watching Ellie's reaction he occupied himself with his cigarette again, expecting an uncomfortable silence to spread itself over them like a very heavy and very suffocating blanket. But it wasn’t too long before the silence was broken once more.
When Ellie spoke again her words were, oh, so gentle. So soft a tone, he imagined it was normally reserved for her boys, and for her boys only.
“Then tell me.”
It was enough to make him turn slowly and look at her. In her eyes he saw more of the same gentleness, as well as a genuine wish to know, to be able to truly and properly understand. He felt his resolve break into a thousand tiny pieces.
He nodded.
“I think we should go inside for this conversation.” His voice sounded even more raspy than usual. He briefly wondered if it was the smoke or an effect of all the emotions hiding at the back of his throat.
They walked back to his house in silence. He put out his cigarette before tiredly making his way to the living room and sitting down on the sofa next to Ellie, his shoulders hunched and his gaze fixed on the floor.
After a few moments of almost tense silence had passed it seemingly became clear to her that he wasn’t going to be the one to start this conversation. She cleared her throat and hesitated before carefully asking “Did he abuse you?” and oh, she was so perceptive. Such a good detective.
Trusting neither his voice nor his ability not to sob the moment his mouth opened, he simply nodded again. There was no use in lying now, she had clearly seen through him already.
“Verbally?” A nod.
“Physically?” Another nod.
A pause.
“Sexually?”
Her tone showed very clearly how much she wanted him to shake his head.
He nodded again.
The floor tiles in his vision became blurry as he felt his body tense up, irrationally expecting judgement.
“Oh, Alec.”
He looked at her face, expecting to see judgement or the pity he hated so much. Instead, there was genuine sympathy and… pain. As if his suffering caused her to hurt as well.
That thought, that realisation, was what did it. Traitorous tears started to flow down his cheeks for the first time since the phone call. For the first time he allowed himself to truly feel all the buried pain that had been dragged back to the surface. It hurt so much that in a different state of mind he might have wondered whether his pacemaker had malfunctioned and he was having another heart attack.
Seeing him cry, something in Ellie's eyes seemed to break. She hesitated and then came to a decision, slowly reaching out to put a hand on his arm in silent comfort.
“Would it be alright if I hugged you? Or would that make it worse?”
“Please.”
He almost choked on the word, even while already moving towards Ellie. She immediately welcomed him into her embrace, pulling him close, holding him as tightly as possible.
Alec fell apart in her arms, the pieces of him threatening to spill onto the floor. It felt as though Ellie's arms were the only thing keeping him together, the only thing keeping him a person, as he shook violently with every brutal sob wracking his body.
On any other day he might have been embarrassed about being so vulnerable, and about soaking her blouse. But today, he just couldn't find it in himself to care. He was so exhausted and it'd been so long since the last time he was properly held and comforted.
She didn't say anything, apparently knowing no words would make this better, but she rubbed soothing circles onto his back and she held the back of his head securely, her hand in his hair, and it was enough. It was wonderful.
When he calmed down a little bit, he found he felt so safe in her arms that he wanted to tell her more. He wanted to get some things off his chest, things he had never told anyone.
“It only started after my mother died. Maybe that changed him as a person. Or maybe he had always wanted to do it but didn't dare while she was around.”
“How… how old were you? When it started?”
“Eleven,” he admitted quietly, glad he was still in her embrace, his head still on her shoulder, so she wouldn't see the look in his eyes. She could hear the way his voice broke, he couldn't let her see his face too, see how broken all of him truly was.
Maybe she wouldn't mind. Maybe it would be okay. You know she cares about you, a warm voice at the back of his head reminded him. He'd been listening to that voice more and more lately.
“I was doing fine. I… I buried all of that, locked it away deep inside me a long time ago.” Before she could say anything he quickly added, “I know that's not healthy.”
She didn't comment on his terrible coping mechanisms. Instead, she gently prompted him to continue.
“But the news you got made it all come back?”
“Yes, I… suddenly, it all rushed back. It's… it's like I can feel his hands all over me.”
He sounded ashamed, disgusted and so fragile.
“I'm so sorry, Alec.”
“Not your fault.”
“I know but… I wish I could do something. I wish you knew you could come to me instead of burying everything inside you again. Instead of…”
As she trailed off, he slowly pulled back from the embrace, looking at her earnestly, red eyes and wet face and all, suddenly not afraid of letting her see him like this.
“Instead of smoking?” he asked.
“Yes. You… I'm assuming you started because of him?”
“Aye. I was fourteen. Or thirteen, I don't remember. I found that smoking distracted me, calmed my mind.”
There was silence for a few moments as she seemingly had to let that information sink in.
“You know you can't start again though, don't you? You've been clean for so long, you can't let him destroy that. You can't let him destroy you again.”
Alec simply looked at her, with a sort of dazed expression, caught off-guard.
“What? Listen, I will fight you on this if you try to disagree, you knob. I will take away your cigarettes and dump them in the harbour if I have to. I will-”
He just smiled fondly. She stopped her monologue, surprised at this reaction, although pleasantly.
“What?” she asked again.
“Nothing. Just… sometimes I forget how much you care about me.”
“Of course I care about you, you idiot! You're my best friend!”
His smile only grew.
“I know. Thank you for reminding me of that. I… I needed that,” he confessed, genuine gratitude in his voice and tender gaze.
Ellie's expression softened. “Always. And now… where's your pack?”
He laughed and pulled it out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket to hand it to her, his readiness to part with it surprising both of them.
“Thank you. I will get rid of this. And if you feel like you need to buy another one: Don't. Call me instead. I don't care what time it is. Even if it's not about smoking and you just need to talk. That's what friends are for, okay? I'll be there for you. Swallow your pride and call me when you need it, you knob. Please.”
He nodded. He didn't know yet if he would take her up on that offer. But it felt like he just might. Maybe he could allow himself to rely on someone else again. Maybe he didn't have to do this alone.
He was still smiling.