AN: This is my first Inspector Lewis story. I love the program and have been sorry to see that there aren't too many stories for it. Anyway, I got the idea for this story after watching the episode "The Dead of Winter" and I thought it would be interesting to take it in another direction. I hope you like it and reviews are always welcome!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I enjoy the program and am writing about it as an expression of my enjoyment.

"So what happens now?" Lewis was looking from Hopkins to James and hoping to stall long enough for his sergeant to take him down.

"I'll think of something, sir."

Lewis could only watch as Hopkins raised the gun, leveling it at his chest. He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Laura and her final words to him: People don't know how you feel unless you tell them. He was going to die and he hadn't told Hathaway how much he meant. Worse than that, the last time he had spoken with him, Lewis had practically told him that he had messed up. Oh, God. He'll blame himself for this. He'll never…

But before he could finish the thought, James called out to Hopkins who whirled around, pointed the gun at the first person he saw and fired. Seeing that he hadn't hit Hathaway, Hopkins readjusted his aim and pulled the trigger again; the bullet finding its mark.

No! Lewis saw Hathaway turn with the impact and quickly grabbed Hopkins to keep him from hurting anyone else. "Get off me!" he yelled as Lewis forced him to the ground. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, Lewis restrained the man.

"You alright?" He looked over expecting to see his bagman coming over to assist and was surprised when he saw him lying on the ground clutching his side. "Oi! You there!" he said, pointing to where Philip Coleman stood aghast. "Come over 'ere and watch 'im. And one of you, fetch the ambulance. Should be here by now."

Coleman took the gun and stood watching the butler and Scarlet went up to the house while Lewis ran to check on his sergeant. As he approached he took in the growing stain on the white dress shirt and the blood oozing between his fingers. He knelt down and put his hands on the stain, pressing hard. This elicited a groan from the injured man and Lewis tried to calm him. "Hey, there now. You'll be alright, just you hang on."

Hathaway looked his governor in the eyes, struggling for breath and the words he needed to say. "I…I'm sorry, sir. I didn't w-work it out…quick enough."

"Hush, now. You did fine. We got our man, see?"

"Should've…should've seen it s-sooner, but I…was too distracted…c-compromised…the case."

Lewis couldn't believe his ears; Hathaway was trying to apologize for the very thing Lewis had called him on; trying to make peace before… "Don't you dare give up. You hear me?" He reached out with one hand to take one of James' and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Hathaway looked into the face of his governor and smiled. "I…I w-won't let you d-down, sir."

Lewis was about to return the smile when Hathaway's eyes slid shut and his hand went limp in his grasp. "James? James!"