Reflections

[Aria]

This was written as a companion piece to the Ruth story, A Quiet Time. The story is from Harry's perspective and contains spoilers for 8.1. Many thanks again go to Tea Lady and JHyde for their help and encouragement. Please review and let me know what you think of the story. The quotations towards the end are from Byron's "When we two parted".

Reflections

Harry can feel himself smiling and nodding at people as he walks briskly down the corridors of Thames House. The few people he passes have done double-takes at seeing him. Even the Home Secretary has mentioned noticing Harry’s jovial mood. Was he really such a curmudgeon that smiling and being in a good mood was an unbelievable occurrence? I suppose so. He smirks again. It is a lovely day, warm and sunny, and the terrorists and antagonists and nut jobs are keeping quiet. What’s there not to be happy about? As if you could care less about the weather and the wackos. The real reason you are so bloody happy is because of Ruth. Harry can feel his grin widen as he thinks of the woman he adores.



Ruth has been on the Grid and back in his life for months. They have very slowly re-built their friendship and trust in one another. The looks and touches and growing feelings had become even more apparent and he is desperate to move their relationship further. He wants to tell Ruth what she hadn’t wanted him to say on that day by the river. It’s time to lay it all on the line. Walking onto the Grid, he glances at her desk. She is not there. Asking a passing desk clerk, the whereabouts of Ruth are revealed, she is on the rooftop. The place where he first asked her on a date might be a good place to finally tell her how he feels about her.



Walking onto the roof, he can see Ruth standing by the railings looking out over the London skyline. He walks slowly over to her, gazing at the same view. The whole of London is before him, theirs, his to protect. He and Ruth stand shoulder to shoulder, he can feel her warmth and a tingle spreads through his body from their point of contact. Without looking at her, he speaks.



“These last few months, since you’ve come back, have been one of the happiest times of my life. There is something I should have told you years ago, but I didn't. I think I was afraid to say it. I wanted to tell you before you left, but you, in your brilliance, knew it wasn’t the right time. We have grown closer recently and now is the right time. I love you Ruth. I have loved you for a very long time. I always will.”



Harry feels the relief in his heart that he has told Ruth the truth. He looks at her, but she is still looking out over London and she is silent. Worry spreads through him - what if she doesn’t feel the same way? After what seems an eternity, Ruth finally turns towards him. Tears are flowing down her cheeks. He steps closer to give her comfort, but she moves away. The worry has grown into an all encompassing panic. Finally, she speaks.



“When I agreed to come back to the Grid, I feared that you would see it, as if I was agreeing to going back to what we were. After George… I so much wanted things to be normal. But you can’t go back, however much you might wish.”



Harry feels numb, she is rejecting him. He can feel his eyes beginning to water and he goes to turn away, not wanting her to see his weakness. But before he can turn, the pain in his chest is sharp and violent. He looks down and Ruth is holding a knife, which she plunges again into his heart. As he slumps down onto the cold tarmac, Ruth stands over him, coolly watching his life force slowly slip away. She begins to talk.



“I don’t love you. I have never loved you, never. I loved George and I will never forgive you for his death.”


……………………………………



With a start, Harry wakes. That wasn’t a dream, it was a bloody terrifying nightmare. Those pen pushers at Tring would have a field day with my subconscious. He looks at his wrist watch, it has only been an hour since he tried sleeping. He stands slowly, his neck and shoulders in considerable pain from the awkward way he has been lying on the sofa. He is so tired, he needs to sleep, but respite eludes him, instead sending God awful nightmares to plague him. The nightmares are variations upon the same theme. Ruth does not love him, she has never loved him. Despite the despair he feels when remembering the nightmares, he can also clearly remember how happy he had felt when telling dream Ruth the truth about his feelings. The last time he had felt such joy was on his date with Ruth, eons ago, when a brave new world full of wonderful and exciting possibilities had seemed to be his for the taking.



The quiet pouring of whiskey into the glass tumbler breaks the oppressive silence surrounding him. He picks up his mobile phone from the table next to him. Ruth is still not answering his phone calls; she won’t speak to him and give him the opportunity to explain. She loathes and despises him. He has ruined her life. What about his life? he thinks angrily. He never asked that she be brought in to break him. He curses Mani for the umpteenth time.



Taking a generous gulp of the whiskey and feeling it course through his body and sharing its warmth, he realises he is wallowing in....something so much more than self-pity. He is second guessing his actions. Or perhaps not his actions but his motivations. What else could he have done? He had stalled for time, which years of training had told him to do, when taken captive. George’s death was a tragic consequence of this. Cause and effect.



He wishes with all his heart that Mani was still alive so that he could have the pleasure of killing him, very, very slowly and painfully. He envies Lucas the kill shot. In a long and varied career dealing with secrecy and death, he has never hated anyone with the same depth of feeling as he hates Mani.



Pouring himself another measure of whiskey, he decides he wants to find oblivion. To permanently erase the pained and tortured look she had given him when George had hit the ground. In truth he wants to become the “heartless bastard” she had accused him of being. A heartless bastard wouldn't be enduring such pain and torment because the woman he loves abhors him. Thank God, Malcolm had managed to save the boy, or Ruth would hate him even more, if that were possible. She had always worried about innocents caught up in their operations. The boy had been the ultimate innocent, a small child, caught up in events he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Harry wonders if his principles and his deep, abiding love for his country would have absolved him, if the boy had died. Were they worth the life of a child?


Ruth obviously hadn’t thought so. And probably still did.



Slumping wearily into the chair, he fights against giving into his exhaustion. He knows he is mentally shot, but sleep without the nightmares isn’t forthcoming, and he would rather go without rest than see what new way of Ruth killing him his subconscious will devise. He is still amazed that despite all the events of the last week: Connie’s betrayal, his arrest and interrogation at Thames House, Tiresias, his capture by Viktor Sarkesian and subsequent torture at the hands of Mani, his overriding memory will always be of Ruth walking into the warehouse. Given the events that later transpired, he is ashamed to admit that his initial feeling had been happiness at seeing her and even now, despite her possibly hating him and never forgiving him, deep down he can feel a giddy joy that she is finally close after years of limbo.



He realises he has never gotten over Ruth, that she is the great love of his life. In her aspect he has always seen beauty, compassion, joy and love. He had been certain that she cared for him, maybe even loved him. Mani snidely telling him that Ruth was married had been more painful than any blows could have been. His first words after nearly 3 years apart, “You got married, out there” were a reflection of the searing jealousy he had experienced. “How should I greet thee?/ With silence and tears”. Over the years he had envisaged numerous scenarios of whether he would see Ruth again and if he did, what it would be like. Never once had her being married crossed his mind. He realises that he had always selfishly believed that she would continue to pine for him as he had done for her. Had she ever loved him or had he just imagined it?, the “something wonderful, that was never said” Had she stopped him saying the words on the river front because she hadn’t felt the same? He is painfully reminded of Byron’s words, “In silence I grieve/ That thy heart could forget”.



He realises that he is grieving, mourning the loss of the Ruth Evershed he has known and loved. The new Ruth, born of despair and loss, is someone he will have to get to know anew, if she gives him the opportunity to. He remembers back over their brief time together: her walking into the conference room arms overflowing with files, the growing awareness of her considerable intellect and her equally generous heart and compassion, her tears and stoic behaviour after Danny’s death, her unflinching support when he had been suspended. And then the pride he had felt watching her break Angela Wells. He had fallen in love so gradually that he hadn’t even realised. Ruth’s very compassion and empathy might be his saving grace. She is angry and grief-stricken now, but she will eventually come to realise that he had no choice. He had to do what he did. That is the man he is and Ruth, in the past, had shown a marked partiality for that man. She will realise that, she has to. Despite the awful circumstances which have brought her back, he is not prepared to let her disappear from his life again. He will do whatever is necessary to ensure that she remains here in London, where she belongs. With him. With renewed optimism coursing through his veins, Harry downs the whiskey and picks up his phone. Fifth time lucky, he hopes wryly.

The End

[Silktie]

Loved it! You had me going with the dream at the beginning, very well done.

[Beatriz]

Lovely! I thought the dream was real too!! I still shiver when I remember that scene when Ruth enters the warehouse. Love his realisation that he never got over her so sweet

I loved the way you've written his thought, very Harry.

[Tea Lady]

Yes the dream had me going when I read it the first time. Great idea. You are right in that, if Nico had died, no way would Ruth have ever forgiven Harry and I don't think she would have ever gone back to Thames House. Good stuff.

[HellsBells]

Great writing, Aria. Loved the part of Harry falling in love gradually.