DI Hardy

Alec’s comment about boys manages to gain a little snort from her, preventing her from falling too deep into the thoughts that stemmed from the mention of the issues she’s been having with Tom. “Speak for yourself.” She retorts jokingly, making a mental note to add cockshit to her ongoing list of insults for Alec.

Tilting her head to the side as he starts speaking about his own life, she observes all of his little nervous ticks. His discomfort sticks out like a sore thumb, but she appreciates that he’s comfortable enough to even talk about it at all — that’s certainly a step for him. “You’ve got to stop doing that, you know. Dwelling on the past. You’ve been given the chance to make up for lost time, you and Daisy, that’s what you’ve got to concentrate on now — nothin’ else. From where i’m standing, you’re doing a pretty good job with her. Else she wouldn’t still be ‘ere, would she?” She proposes with a light shrug, figuring she’d offer up her input on his situation whether he asked for it or not. After all, it’s Alec, he never ASKS for reassurance or advice — even if it’s what he might need deep down.

Alec gave Ellie a look at her snort, and her joking retort, that was playful annoyance coated with affection. Whether she knew that affection lie in his gaze, was a mystery, at least to him. He was a smart man, he was observant, and tended not to miss small details, especially when it came to case. But with Ellie Miller, he was at a loss. He didn’t know what it was. Or he did, and just didn’t want to admit that to himself.

At her words of advice, and encouragement, he couldn’t help but cock a bit of a smile, silently appreciative. It always seemed that she knew what he needed, even if he didn’t necessarily want it. “Thanks Miller.” He replied simply, reaching over to down the rest of his tea. “Suppose old habits die hard. Almost killed myself over dwellin’ on the past.” He made a joke of his past stress, because that was how he dealt with things, brushing them off like it was nothing. “I’m still going to regret not being there for as long as I live.” He mused, running a hand over his face again.

Ellie listens to him, nodding gratefully along with his words. “Yeah. I know.” It’s nothing she hadn’t tried to remind herself already — that these things took time, that they’d find who did this. Coming from him, though, it was just that little bit more effective. That signature determination in his voice, the drive that kicked him into gear in circumstances like this — the kind of drive that made him so GOOD at what he does — that’s what she needed to hear.

“Oh — err…not too bad, yeah.” She responds, almost surprised Alec had started this conversation. He isn’t usually the type to engage in this sort of small talk. “Nothing out of the ordinary is going on at the moment, not that I can think of, so that’s somethin’. Still struggling to get through to Tom a bit…but I s’pose that’s raising a growing boy for you, innit?” With a small shrug, she leans further back against the counter and folds her arms. She’s not going to get into the trials and tribulations of raising her boys without a father figure around, not now, but she’s sure he’s wise enough to know that that’s what’s proving to be an issue for her. “What about you?”

Alec noticed the slight surprise lift in her voice at his question. He was very...closed off in many ways, and he very well knew it. So any kind of small conversation like this, a gesture of friendship, was out of place for him, at least in normal circumstances. He tried, he really did. It was not that he didn’t want to connect with her, it was that he didn’t know how, or rather, he was afraid. Afraid what it might mean, afraid of what it could mean.

He nodded, tugging on his ear again. “Tom seems to be a bit of a tough one, I mean, he is a boy. Little cockshits they are.” He pondered with a bit of a tease, trying to lighten the mood a bit, recalling when Tom went off the a wall, and was trying to stick up for his very guilty father. It left a bad taste in his mouth. He supposed having no father figure made all the things difficult, and it was a lot to put on a young mind.

At the question about him, he looked down at his feet briefly. He couldn’t not answer her. “It’s alright, I suppose. Daisy seems to be settlin’ in finally, stopped askin’ to go to her mum’s.” He looked up, giving a bit of a shrug. “Pretty sure she still resents me, can’t say I blame her for that.” His eyes were traveling everywhere but Ellie’s face. Emotion talk made him uncomfortable half the time.

For a moment, she almost expects him to shift the topic or excuse himself to leave. The silence, the way he won’t look at her despite the fact she’s just spoken to him. Then he does, finally, and she gives nothing more than a little shrug in response to his assumption. Yes, she was absolutely exhausted too, that went without saying really.

“Yeah.” She whispers in understanding, brows furrowing. “We’re both parents so it’s…well these ones are always difficult, aren’t they. But when it’s so easy to compare…” He doesn’t have to go into depth for her to assume that it must be driving him mental. This wasn’t something she could compare to the Latimer case, because that was a whole other story. That case really WASpersonal to her. But if Danny had just been some other kid of Tom’s age, Fred’s age even, she knew that all that’d be on her mind is WHAT IF. What if that was HER boy, how would she cope?

“It’s those poor parents, I can barely look at them. I can see what all this is doing to them, and just — the thought of us not getting justice for them and their little girl…” She exhales almost shakily, peering down into her mug and swirling the remaining liquid around before she takes another big gulp.

Alec pulled on his ear a bit as she spoke, a nervous tick he had since he was a child. He never really broke himself of it, and he was sure that she had picked up on it. He did it often enough. Regardless, he nodded silently. They were both parents. It was ones like these, where they could really feel for the parents of the victim. He couldn’t begin to imagine losing Daisy in that way, he really couldn’t.

“Don’t worry, Miller. We are going to get whoever did this.” He assured her softly, noticing the shakiness to her exhale. He knew this was getting under her skin, just by the way she looked so exhausted, and her posture was slumped as she drank her tea. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll get them.” There was a determination to his voice, one that signified that he meant what he said, the Sandbrook case was clear indication of that.

“That’s not an excuse. None of us should be USED to being this worn out, it’s not healthy.” She wants to say especially not for HIM, but she doesn’t, because anything that resembles being patronising towards him isn’t going to get her anywhere. Of course, it’s not her trying to be patronising — it’s her being CONCERNED — but he’s that stubborn sometimes that she’s not sure he’ll know the difference.

Obviously, no case was really EASY. That’s what being a detective is, you’ve got to have the guts for it. There’s just those little terrors that wriggle their way into the mind, tug on past or current situations —  just don’t want to SHIFT until it’s all over and it’s time to move onto the next case and pretend like nothing’s happened. This was one of those little terrors, only it wasn’t really little — nor was it shifting. Quite the opposite, actually. This case was one that just seemed to keep going and going, added layers building onto it after every solution they thought they’d found.

Brushing the toast crumbs off her hands, she picks up her mug and cradles it — taking in the warmth of the tea before she has a sip. “I just…..think perhaps it’d help, if we just acted like normal bloody people for once and actually talk about what’s on our minds, rather than just berate each other when one of is isn’t focusing because we’re too busy off in our own worlds like we’ve been doing all day.” She suggests in a low tone, peering at him over her mug.

He almost wanted to snort. Since when was he ever healthy? Ever since Sandbrook, his health had been on the steady decline, and he was sure it was of his own doing, stressing himself out to the point of no sleep, no food. But despite that, he stayed quiet. He knew that Ellie was only lecturing him because she cared. Something that didn’t often happen in his life, someone caring, giving a rats arse about him. Sure, he had Daisy, but sometimes he felt that there was too much damage done between them, all the time he lost. All the years he spent not being there properly for her...

He mentally scolded himself, now was not the time.

Alec seemed to ponder her words, reaching for his own mug, taking a long drink of it before making eye contact with her. He debated on lying, like he usually did, and moving on with his questions about the case. But those big brown eyes were boring into his, and he knew right then, he wasn’t about to lie to her.

Ellie retrieved two mugs from the cupboard, tapping her foot as she waits for the kettle to finish boiling. “No, ‘course not. Fair point.” She muses with a shake of her head, about to start rooting through the cupboards for anything else she might be able to snack on before she hears him offering up his toast. “…Oh, life saver. Thanks.” Picking up the piece of toast from his plate, she flashes him a grateful smile. “Did think about stealing it at first but I thought i’d be nice today.”

When the kettle clicks up to signal that it’s done, a small “Ooh!” escapes her lips as she plops her half-eaten toast back on his plate to finish making their tea. She turns back around to pour the water in with their tea bags and adds the milk — ensuring she makes his just as he likes it. They’d both made enough for each other to know their preferences off by heart by now.

“Here you go.” She hands him his mug carefully, taking a quick sip of her own before she picks her toast back up and takes another bite. She allows the silence to linger for only a couple of minutes. From glancing at him, she’s able to tell just how exhausted he really is. The weary eyes, the faint bags underneath. It’s nothing she couldn’t have assumed already, because she’s shattered as well. It just reminds her that they’re BOTH struggling, and that’d help if they actually acted like normal people and talked about it. “Guessing you’ve not been sleeping much either, then?” She blurts out casually, testing the waters. The last thing she wants is for him to crawl back into his shell and left everything unsaid.

Alec allowed himself a roll of the eyes, of course she very well could have just stolen the piece of toast from his plate, but she didn’t. For once. A part of him, deep, deep, down, wanted to laugh at that, but he wouldn’t allow himself that. Ellie flashed him a grateful smile, and he returned with a tiny one of his own, before she plopped the toast back on the plate, going to get the tea.

“Thanks.” He hummed lightly as she handed him his mug, lifting it to his lips, the warmth pooling in his stomach, something he very much needed. The case had taken so much out of him, that a little warmth was welcomed. It was nice that Ellie seemed to have memorized his preference by now, showed how much they actually knew each other.

There was a bought of silence, finishing off his toast, and sipping his tea. He knew it was only a matter of time before she broke the silence by asking him something, judging by the way she was studying him intently over her mug of tea. Then she spoke up, just as he expected her to, and a deep sigh escaped his lips, setting his mug down so he could rub his hand over his face, exhaustion clear in his demeanor. There was no use in lying to her, and he knew that. She always saw through his facade, no matter how hard he tried to cover it up with insults and snark.

Sleep Deprivation Starters

Alec arched an eyebrow as he looked over his steaming mug of tea, which Ellie would have called ‘improperly made’. Not that he cared all that much. What mattered was that it was hot, and kept him awake during the wee hours of the night while working on a case.

He could relate to the lack of sleep, during and after the Sandbrook case, well, he didn’t think he slept properly until after he had solved it. The nightmares…the water swallowing him whole.. Almost killed him too. The pacemaker that lie in his chest was proof of that.

He took a long gulp of the tea, before setting it on the counter behind him, next to the tin of biscuits.

“That sounds like a problem, Banner.” He crossed his arms across his chest, his all the usual snark in his tone. The way he pronounced ‘Banner’, screamed Scottish.

Ellie’s toughened up somewhat over the years of doing this job, sure, but it never got any easier. Every case they’d ever handled — whether it was one that hit close to home or not — took a massive toll on her. She’s not sure that’ll ever change. All that has changed since her early days on the force is her ability to MASK that, to put professionalism first.

This one, though…this one was TOUGH. As two parents, they were both struggling. They each knew it too, they could sense it in each other, but they weren’t really talking about it. Not on aPERSONAL level, at least. Their approach appeared to be detaching themselves as much as possible, keeping their heads down and getting on with the job.

Traipsing into the kitchen wearily, Ellie stifles a yawn and gives Alec a little nod when she sees him standing there. “Tea?” She offers, checking if he’s already made himself one. Her eyebrows raise slightly, surprised at what she sees instead. Alec Hardy, actually eating properly for once?“Well bloody hell, in’t that a sight for sore eyes? Thought I was that tired that I was hallucinating then.” She jokes, flashing a little smile as she shuffles past him so she can put the kettle on. “Wiser than me, I was just gonna have biccy with my tea.” She admits with a scrunch of her nose, peeking into the biscuit tin to see what’s left.

Alec looked up from his toast, obviously worn out, but he tried his best to hide it, or at least he thought he did. He had come to realize very fast, that although he was Ellie’s boss, he could barely hide anything from her. He blamed it on the fact that she was a mother. She had eyes like a hawk. 

“Tea sounds nice.” He commented, noting the raise in her eyebrows that she did when she was about to make some smart arse joke at him. Since when did he notice that? Who knew. He was quite the observant man, even more so when it came to a certain Miller. Not that he would ever admit that to a breathing soul.

“I can’t very well solve this bloody case if I starve to death, now can I Miller?” He shot back, turning to lean against the counter, taking an aimless bite of the toast. “Here.” He gestured the plate with the other slice on it to her.

“I’m pretty sure Brian ate the last of the biscuits at lunchtime.” He just about rolled his eyes. Brian was an odd one.

“You were tellin’ me somethin’ about the case.” He drawled a bit, leaning forward in his chair. “You alright Miller?” He asked with an arch of his eyebrow. He knew this particular case had taken a toll on both of them, he couldn’t deny that, well, he could, but not to her. She always saw right through him. He always worked, worked, and worked, so much so that he forgot that Ellie wasn’t like him in that aspect.

An odd friendship indeed – you’d have expected them to butt heads, especially considering everything that has happened over the past five years.

It still barely bears thinking about, the fact that soon enough it will be five years since she lost Danny, and yet every morning the pain is as raw as if it were only yesterday. Time has passed, indeed, and she hasn’t seen Joe Miller since the day the townspeople banished him from Broadchurch in a show of strength. They might not have justice, but they certainly know the truth. There’s no use harbouring the same bitterness towards Alec as Cate Gillespie had. So they’d become friends. It had taken time, they’d talked out the case and the trial and everything thereafter whenever either of them needed it, but they rarely lingered on it now.

“No, no, you’re not intrudin’,” Beth hastens to protest. The age-old protestation that she is fine rises to the tip of her tongue before she swallows it down in favour of the truth. She hates being lied to, so she owes the truth to others, too. “I’ve been better…but that was obvious, wasn’t it?”

She runs a hand through her hair, then smiles as she takes the thermos. His lack of prowess at tea-making hasn’t escaped Beth, not in the least, but it’s nice that he tries.

“Thanks. How’ve you been? Quiet at the station, or…?”

He noticed that she seemed to about to assure him she was fine, but they both knew that was a lie, and he was a detective after all, he knew when someone was giving him bullshit. He was silently thankful he wouldn’t have to call her out on it.

“I’ve been alright.” He knows that he really hasn’t been, but he was more skilled at the art of lying and making it seem believable. Although the Sandbrook case had long since been solved, he still often woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling like water was choking him. He wasn’t sure if that feeling would ever go away. 

“Station’s kind of quiet, yeah, no new cases quite yet, which is actually a good thing.” He pulled at his ear again, before sticking his hands in his coat pockets, still standing, rather than sitting.

He wasn’t always sure how to approach Beth’s grief, he could never understand losing a child in that sense, but, he could try to understand. 

“Do you...do you want to talk about it?”

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses, before removing them entirely, setting them on the counter. The new case they had taken on was driving him right mad, and had every right to do so.

The case had to do with the murder of a young girl, about Daisy’s age. Maybe that’s why it got to him so easily, not that every case didn’t get to him. He wanted to get justice for everyone, and sometimes he just couldn’t do that, and it ate him alive, just as the Sandbrook case once had, promptly almost killing him. He couldn’t do that again.

But this case.

This case had shaken him to his very core, the violence, the brutal nature of the murder. And the fact she was no older than Daisy. That thought alone made his skin crawl.

He sighed and buttered the toast he had made, ignoring the footsteps of who he was sure was Ellie, coming into the kitchen area as well. He pretended not to hear her, taking a bite of the toast. He was actually eating for once, and he was sure she would make some cheeky comment about it, knowing her. Most of the time she was the one who prompted him to eat actual food. He would get so wrapped up in his work, he just didn’t. The case was more important.