Who: Hardy and OPEN Where: The beach What: Arriving in the midst of a heart attack (Resetting him so he won't remember being there before) When: Today, late afternoon/evening Rating: High for language (Hardy swears) Open: Yep! Status: Ongoing
Bloody beach. Bloody Broadchurch. Bloody Miller.
Bloody heart.
Hardy's hand clutched weakly at his chest. This was the worse the pain had been in a long while. His vision blurred, the sounds around him became muffled but he was sure he had heard Miller's infernal voice before it seemed far away and echoey. He expected to feel the little air that was in his lungs abruptly expelled as his back hit the floor. But the ground seemed softer than the tarmac that he had just been running over.
Hardy lay on the ground with his eyes squeezed shut. With each spike of pain he could feel his heart trying to work but seemingly unable to due to the immense pressure in his chest. If he didn't know any better he would think something was crushing him. But, no, it was his own broken and flawed body rebelling against him.
Maybe it would be its final warning to him. Maybe he would just die here and now. Branded the 'worse copper in Britain' and without getting to speak to his daughter one last time.