The Cost Of A Life

[Silktie]

Spoilers for season 9.

If Spooks belonged to me, episode 9.8 would have ended with this, instead of the 48 hours later bit. It starts right after the reaction shots to Lucas' death.

Characters: Harry/Ruth

THE COST OF A LIFE

Harry doesn’t come back to the Grid afterwards.

Instead, Richard Dolby strides through the doors whilst they are still absorbing the shock of Lucas’ death; the tears still lying shallow in Ruth’s eyes, in Tariq’s eyes. Still trying to comprehend the sheer horror of what happened that day, to make sense of the enigma that was Lucas North. Or John Bateman. Or both. To reconcile themselves with the reality of delivering such a horrible weapon into the hands of the Chinese.

The Chairman of the JIC eyes the shell-shocked Spooks before him somewhat sympathetically.
“Well, there is nothing good to say about the mess we find ourselves in. Harry Pearce has been suspended until an investigation into this incident has been done.”
“This incident? My God.” Ruth voices the thoughts of them all. A more inadequate word has seldom been used.
Dolby ignores the interjection. “Harry admitted to giving Albany to a rogue officer, and is therefore directly responsible for it landing in the hands of the Chinese. In light of this, he cannot be allowed back here until we have determined how deeply he has been compromised” – his eyes turn to Ruth for a moment – “whether other state secrets could be in danger here. You are not allowed to make any contact with him, is that clear?”
He is met with stony silence.
Dolby sighs, and turns toward the door. “I’m sorry.”

Nobody moves for a few seconds after the doors close behind him. They are leaderless, rudderless. They look to Ruth, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She is aware of their eyes on her, looking to her to be the strong one once again, to take the lead as she did earlier, to tell them what to do like she did when Harry walked out to meet Lucas. But she can’t. All she keeps seeing before her is Lucas’ desperate face, and Harry’s haunted eyes. All she keeps hearing is Harry’s broken voice, telling them that Lucas is dead by his own hand.
Now it’s my turn…
The tears come again.

She gets up abruptly, gathers her things, and walks through the doors without a backward glance. Outside, the sun is dipping towards the horizon, and the multitudes on their way home swirl around her. She stands for a moment, and looks at them: Caucasian, Asian, African – humanity in all its glorious diversity. She sees Harry, giving Albany to Lucas for her. For her. Her heart shatters.

* * *

He’s been sitting in the same chair ever since he got home. The glass of whiskey stands by his elbow, untouched. His head is throbbing, the cut above his eye seeps blood, but he does nothing, doesn’t lift a hand to wipe it away. He just sits, alone, concentrates on taking his next breath. Every now and then a tear escapes from the corner of his eye, courses down his cheek. He doesn’t stir, lets it roll into his collar unchecked.

The light begins to fade, and still he doesn’t move. He stares at the opposite wall in the gathering gloom, but he doesn’t see it. He isn’t really there. He is living through every step of this most horrific of days, weighing, judging himself, his own actions. Only himself. And always coming back to the end of it all, when he’d made himself go down and look at Lucas’ broken body, made himself stand guard over it until the ambulance arrived.
I don’t want to feel like I’m covered in blood all the time anymore.
He remembers telling Ruth that months ago, when he’d wanted to resign. He closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, feels another tear glide down his cheek.
If only, he thinks.

When he opens his eyes again, a shape moves in the shadows. He turns his head, slowly, to bring it into focus. He stares, thinking it a trick of the light. His hand reaches for the small lamp on the table next to him, flicks the switch. She is still there.
They stare at each other.
“Your front door was unlocked.” Her voice washes over him, finding all the cracks in his armour in an instant, gathering there and trying to find a way into his heart. When he speaks, his voice sounds alien to him, as though he hasn’t spoken in months.
“I thought I’d make it easy for them to get in and plant their surveillance equipment. Don’t want them kicking my door in…” He swallows, his eyes never leaving her.
“Ruth.”

The desperation, the anguish, and the hint of hope in his voice brings fresh tears to her eyes. She remembers being paralysed by those same feelings whilst they were waiting for word on the outcome of his meeting with Lucas. For word on whether he’d been killed. And all that time, her heart was slowly waking up with the knowledge of how much it would hurt to never see him again. But still, she needs answers.
“You can live with it, knowing you traded my life for thousands of others?”
His eyes trace her face, lovingly, sadly.
“I don’t know.” He falls silent. She takes a step forward.
“Then why, Harry? Please make me understand. I need to understand.”
He smiles, a small, lopsided quirk of the mouth.
“Because I know for certain that I cannot live with not trying to save you. I can never live with that.” There is a quiet certainty in his voice.
“I had a plan, you see. Admittedly, with the luxury of hindsight, it was foolhardy at best, unspeakably irresponsible at worst. But I told myself that I could save both; you and Albany. I was wrong, and I have to live with that now.”

Ruth closes her eyes, raises a hand to wipe a tear away. She wonders how a person can feel such desperation, and be so filled with love at the same time.
“I can’t… I can’t live with it, Harry. I can’t. How am I supposed to… Each time I look in the mirror, I’ll see them there. Each time I look at you, they’ll be there, standing behind you, demanding penance.”
Harry takes a ragged breath, wipes his hand over his eyes.
“I know, Ruth. I thought… I never meant…” He gives up. He’s not supposed to tell her, but he cannot live with allowing her to labour any further under the misconception that her life was bought at that impossibly high price.

“There’s something you have to know, about Albany.”
He has her full attention now.
“It doesn’t work. It never did. The Chinese got blueprints for something completely useless. It’s only use is as a deterrent – as long as other countries believed we had such a weapon at our disposal, they would think twice about attacking us.”
She stares at him, dumbfounded. He can tell that she is finding it difficult to compute the implications. Getting to his feet, he approaches her slowly, feeling a pressing need to confess all.
“I always knew that. So when Lucas asked for Albany in trade for your life, it was an easy decision. I refuse to sacrifice you for nothing, Ruth. No matter how much I try to pretend otherwise, I am a man of flesh and blood. And I love you, whether we are together or not. I cannot wish that away. When the only consequences are the loss of my career and my reputation? That’s no choice at all. I would make the same one a thousand times over.”

He is standing right in front of her. Her eyes search his face.
“…It doesn’t work?” She asks dumbly.
“No, it doesn’t.” His voice is gentle, soft. “No thousands of people in the mirror with you, or standing behind me… I hope to God that I’m strong enough to never place such a burden on you. I would rather die than expect you to live with something like that.”
She sags a little, as relief floods through her. Harry reaches out tentatively to take hold of her upper arms, to keep her upright. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she reaches up, gently wipes some of the blood from his face.
“He hurt you.”
The gesture fills his heart, and he smiles at her.
“No more than I deserved.”
But she shakes her head quite decisively.
“No, Harry. None of this was deserved. Neither of us deserved any of it. This was about Lucas having to face his own demons. We just got caught up in it. It’s not your fault.”

Ruth looks at him, beseeching him to believe her, but she can tell that he does blame himself on some level. She wonders, suddenly, how much guilt he is carrying around for all the people he’s lost. She hears Lucas’ voice again, telling her they’ve sacrificed enough, that they deserve to be happy. Looking at the bloodied, weary, heartbroken man in front of her, she believes it for the first time.
Truly believes it.
She caresses his face, tracing all the lines and imperfections she loves so much. His eyes fill with tears, and she feels her own begin to water again in response.
“I won’t let them crucify you for what happened today. We’ll find a way. Together.”
Harry moves a hand to her neck, his thumb gently stroking over the bruises still showing there.
“Together?”
The note of wonder in his voice sends a stab of guilt through Ruth, so she meets his eyes squarely, smiles a beautiful smile.
“Together, Harry.”
She pulls his head to her, whispers against his mouth.
“My Beloved.”
When she kisses him, he tastes like home.

Fin

[A Cousin]

I seriously thought they were going to bookend S9 with a death and proposal on each end. Yup - that's what should have happened. Another ten months of these and I *might* make it!

scarffs a large piece of cheesecake and quaffs from a bottle of scotch

[Hunted]

That was lovely Silktie. There's alot to be said for writing the feel-good factor!

[Beatriz]

*blows her nose* *Sniffs* I was hoping for something like this at the end of the last episode... I like the way you write them. Lovely as always, Silktie

"He tastes like home" LOVED IT!

[Tea Lady]

*borrows handkerchief from Beatriz*

Lovely Silktie. A much better ending. I can see Harry doing that, in shock almost, broken almost.

Perhaps Kudos will read this story and 10.1 will start off filling in that time we lost. They will tell us what happend in those 48hrs to get to the point where the HS phones Harry.

[Naivety]

That was great! If only we could have had an ending like this, instead of nearly another year of waiting.

[Aria]

Wonderful and sad and beautiful, Silktie. This is how season 9 should have ended. Thank you.

[lwhite53]

Great story, Silktie -- thanks.

[HellsBells]

So beautifully written Silktie. If only Kudos would write it like that......., then Harry and Ruth could go and save the UK together, husband and wife leading section D.

[JHyde]

Ooh I like this. Nice one x