A/N: Thanks again to everyone who followed Alec's journey through the night.

This chapter is dedicated to Carrie whose feedback was vital to this bit of the story.

Turns out that thanks to a request by the amazing Lauren, a whole universe of possibilities opened up and soon we may be seeing the picture of Daisy that Alec carries in his wallet come to life :-)

Trigger warning (I thought for a long time if I should put this warning or not as I'd like to have the reader walk along the story without preconceptions. But then I don't want to upset anyone, so here it is): Images of suicide.

Chapter 5

Jocelyn was exhausted. Her unexpected company's emotional journey through the night had taken a toll on her. Not as much on her though as it had on him judging by his haggard and pale face. She took a deep breath and got up from the kitchen table they had been spending the wee hours of the morning at.

"I should leave." His voice was hollow. "You have court today." He slowly stood up, leaning against the table.

"A bit late to consider that." She gave him a piercing stare. He ducked and his shoulders curled in when he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. It was such a defensive posture. Jocelyn wondered if he was even aware of it.

" 'M sorry about..." He didn't finish and just looked away, his lips pressed together.

She walked up to him and put her hand on his elbow. He flinched ever so slightly with the human contact.

"It's quite alright. I didn't mind. You came to me for help." She gave him a quick encouraging nod and a squeeze on the arm. "Are you okay to walk home?"

He shrugged. "Suppose so." He pulled out the pills from his pocket and slowly turned the blister pack over and over again. "Guess I should take some before I go."

She put her hand on his, stopping the nervous gesture. "Can they do anything about it?" She tried to sound hopeful but considering her own situation, it didn't quite come out that way.

He gave her a curious look - he sure was perceptive - and answered quietly, "Aye, they can. I'm having surgery in a few days... day after tomorrow actually. Pacemaker. I don't know if..." A tremble in his voice betrayed his outward calm expression. He sighed deeply, "I don't know if I'm going to make it."

So that was what had prompted him to come. "I see, putting things right then."

He ran his hands through his shaggy hair and nodded. He went to get water at the sink, dumping out the cold tea, and swallowed his pills. He then walked out to the living room collecting his coat. He hesitated for a long moment before putting it on.

Jocelyn watched him from across the room. He started walking towards the door. He stopped and turned around, pulling two envelopes out of his inner coat pocket. They looked crumpled and had probably been in there for a while. He held them out for her to take.

"Would you do me a favor? If..." He braced himself for the next words. "If I will not... survive the surgery, can you take care of these?" And he handed her the rather beaten up envelopes.

His hand writing was neat and rather curly for a man. One was for Daisy - not surprising - the other though did spark her curiosity. It was addressed to Ellie Miller. She looked up from the envelopes. He had already opened the door.

And in a similar fashion like the evening before, he paused and leaned against the door frame, head down, shoulders slumped. Her worry though was brief, as he straightened himself up, took in a deep breath, and turned around to find her eyes.

"Thank you for..." He struggled with the words. "... for listening. It means a lot." And with that he turned quickly and was out the door without her having a chance to reply.

Her gaze followed him while he slowly walked down along the cliff. She was clutching the envelopes, crumpling them even more, hoping desperately she wouldn't have to deliver them anytime soon.

He had left the envelopes with her rather than continuing to carry them around with him. He had figured that in case something happened to him they would find them amongst his personal belongings and get them in the right hands. He had written the notes for Daisy and Ellie after it was clear he couldn't avoid the pacemaker any longer without losing his chance of even being able to get the surgery done. Jocelyn would take care of it, and that filled him with relieve and a sense of calm. At least he would have a chance to say thank you and good bye to both people who made his life worth living for, even if he never could do it in person.

The light was still grey, the sun hadn't come up yet to lend color to the sea and the cliffs. If there was ever any time he liked the coast, it would have been in these early morning hours.

He felt not as exhausted as he ought to be after being up all night and his mood was oddly peaceful. On a whim he decided to go for a detour walking towards the camp site he had spent time at as a boy. His pace was slow but steady until he reached the top of the cliff.

He stared at the horizon, lost in memories of a lifetime ago. He sat down in the damp grass, pulling his knees to his chest like he used to do as a boy. It was as comforting as it had been back then. He could sit for hours like this. Hours spent away from his arguing parents.

The memory was painful, but he didn't push it away as usual. He had never told Miller why, when they found Danny, his first question was about the cliff being a suicide spot. And maybe he never will.

He closed his eyes and saw his mother in front of him. Her hazel brown eyes, so much like his own and Daisy's, looking at him with warmth and sorrow. They were standing at the edge of the cliff. He had followed her through the dark night without her knowing that he was there. She was staring at the horizon, not moving when he called her name. He walked up to her, taking her hand. When she looked at him, he realized she had been crying. He had asked her if she was alright but she didn't reply at first. Then pulling him close to her, she talked to him about how sorry she was for all the fighting, for all the pain they had caused him and how it wasn't his fault. She was talking to him about how life didn't always turn out the way you expect it to be but that God will put you in the right place at the right time.

Hardy was sobbing. He hadn't allowed himself for such a long time to live through this memory, to let it get so close to the surface. But it was always there, lurking, and being in this place of all places had made it harder and harder every day not to look at it. He really didn't want to but it was too late now and the images flooded his already exhausted and overstimulated mind.

His eyes were still closed, but he had stopped sobbing. He unconsciously held his breath. His mother hugged him tightly, pressing a kiss on his wind tousled hair. Then abruptly, she let go of him, and with a whispered "I will always love you, Alec." she stepped off the cliff, the wind carrying away his name, taking it away from him forever.

He didn't move for a long time, his body getting stiff with the chill of the early morning. His mind was empty and he felt numb inside. But there was also a calmness and peace. He didn't regret coming up here and paying respect to his mother's memory, maybe for the last time in his life. It felt right, something she would have done as well.

Eventually, he ran his hands over his face, wiping away the tears. He took in a shuddering breath and climbed to his feet. He was cold and damp, but it barely bothered him. His thoughts wondered to the day at the beach when he told Miller what his mother had said. There was a reason that he was still here, and maybe that reason was not only to get justice for the Sandbrook victims and Danny, but maybe, just maybe, that reason had with utmost certainty turned his living room into her version of a CID. Complete with tea, chips and wee Fred. The thought warmed him from the inside and his steps were determined when he walked back to his home.

When he reached his house, the sun was up and it was fully light outside. The door wasn't locked. He stepped inside and he was hit by the sight of his living room wall plastered with pictures, maps, notes, and print outs. The files were scattered all over.

His face was full with incredulity, mouth gaping open, when suddenly Miller popped out from behind a stack of filing boxes. He just stared at her sight, completely dumbfounded.

"Shhhhhhh!" She waived her hands at him and then pointed at the wall. "Did you see this? Scribbled on the back of an old vehicle check form... Thorpe Agriservices." Her head twitched a little to the side with the excitement.

"What's that? Have you come across that before?" She was talking fast, almost too fast for Hardy's tired brain to follow. "And next to it... Gary Thorpe 'dash' Lee Ashworth 'question mark'."

Hardy was slowly catching up, mouth still open, staring at her like an apparition. "You've been here all night?"

She nodded quickly. "Mmm, ya, suppose I have. Fred's asleep next door." She gestured to his bedroom and added another "Shhhh!" as if to warn him not to wake the child.

The thought of a toddler sleeping in his bed put him over the edge. Exhaustion and exasperation fighting with each other, letting out a breath, he said, "I need a cuppa tea." He turned to his kitchen but was stopped by Miller speed talking away.

"Ah, now, you're out of tea bags and milk. And I've used the last of the bread." She pulled her lips into a poor imitation of an apologetic smile and if it hadn't been before he could get his morning tea, he probably would have laughed out loud.

And when they walked over to the coffee shop to get tea, he grabbed wee Fred's push chair and marched ahead, listening to her spewing out her theories about Sandbrook. He tried to convince himself that he only took the push chair to keep himself steady, but the newly found warm spot inside his ever aching chest knew better than that. He found himself desperately hoping for Ellie never to get to read the letter he wrote for her, while he was getting dazzled by her ingenuity and infectious force of life. Maybe, just maybe, love wasn't such a bad thing to happen after all.

Closing Note

Thank you for reading the story. I am most appreciative of this supportive community of fans of Alec Hardy, Ellie Miller and the rest of the Broadchurch universe. I am excited to continue writing stories about Alec as so many people encouraged me to keep on writing – you know who you are :-) – and I hope I will not disappoint.

One last thing… for those of you who thought the bit with Alec's mother was somewhat unexpected, I should maybe explain myself. When Alec told Ellie that his mother's last words to him – God would put him in the right place at the right time – while they were standing at the beach, the very beach where his first words to Ellie were the question if this is a suicide spot, I wondered about his mother's fate. And when I wrote this story, my thoughts on the answer to this question just found themselves creeping into the story. So, I hope I didn't upset anyone. If so, I'm sorry, it was not intended, it's just part of who Alec is in my head.

THANK YOU ALL!