Same scenario. Slightly alternate ending. I guess it's a kind of therapy!

SPOILERS for end of series.

"Leave the service with me, while we still know who we are."

He looks at her and sees the smile. Sees the acceptance, the 'yes' he's wanted so much and no longer hopes to expect. And yet he still doesn't believe it.

"I've found the house," she adds, eyes still alight.

"By the sea?" he remembers.

"Yes," she nods as she watches the contagion of the smile spread slowly across his face.

"That's a bit presumptuous of you, Ruth."

"Well, if you don't like it we can look somewhere else."

"I'll like it," he says softly, his hand rising to her face, his fingertips stroking the length of her cheek, delicately like she is the most treasured thing in all the world.

"What about the neighbours?' he whispers, "what will we talk about?"

She pulls his hand around her waist.

"I'm not interested in the neighbours, Harry."

And as she stretches up onto her toes and he feels her soft lips meet his he knows that all the lies are over and he has found the only truth that matters.

Sasha sits on the floor no longer knowing who he is, beside him the body of his mother. His father's eyes flicker from the glazed void into which he stares, wondering where his life has gone, the dead, unknown wife lying at his feet, the son who may not have been his and yet always was watching him, emotions boiling within him.

Dimitri and Erin pull Ilya to his feet, reaching into his pocket and throwing the key through the broken window to Callum.

But Ilya refuses to move further.

"Sasha…." He must say something to the boy, but what he knows not.

"How did you get the key?" asks his son.

The answer is never heard. Ilya's head turns to the door as Harry and Ruth enter. Sasha sees the look. And for him it is all the answer he needs.

Harry takes in the scene of carnage as Ilya is led away and he understands.

Ilya pauses in front of Harry.

The two men say nothing as Ilya's ill fated words about his family echo in both their minds. He glances at Ruth and back to Harry, knowing now that it is he with nothing … merely a tortoise in the garden.

Sasha reaches for his mother's hand as he sees his father led away and the anger overwhelms him.

Launching himself at Harry, head down he drives into his chest sending him into Ruth, who is thrown off balance towards the wall. Harry falls across the table, Sasha reigning down a bombardment of punches upon him as Dimitri and Callum run back into the room restraining him.

"Why? Why did you have to give him the key?" he screams.

"Sasha…." Harry begins.

"You knew. You let him do that," he flails toward the glassy eyed body of Elena, "You gave him the key!"

"He didn't, I did,' comes a quiet voice. They glance round to Ruth who is leant against the broken window.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispers to Sasha, "I'm truly sorry, Sasha."

The tears falling down his face he too is led from the room.

Harry looks back to Ruth who steps slowly forward.

"Harry…." She is pale, her eyes wide and he knows in that one word that something is terribly wrong.

She turns to look at the window and he sees the shard of glass sticking out of her back.

As Erin enters the room she sees Ruth crumble to her knees, she sees the blood running down the wall beneath the shattered window, she sees Harry fall to the floor before her.

"Ruth…." His voice is stricken with pain and fear.

And Erin wonders how it is that she has never realised, how she has failed to recognise the feelings between them until this very moment.

Harry props an arm around her for support, his breathe as ragged in his chest as it is in hers.

Erin is on the phone demanding an air evac.

Harry's hand cradles the face that merely moments before had been bathed with smiles so long unseen.

"Don't leave me Ruth," he whispers, his heart bursting, "…not now.'

Her eyes flicker and begin to close.

"Keep her conscious," calls Erin, "it's on its way."

"Tell me about the house, Ruth," he asks desperately, "tell me why you chose it?"

He strokes her face as he feels the life in her ebbing away.

"Ruth?"

She speaks, her eyes still closed.

"It's all windows and light downstairs. A wall of light."

"And the bedrooms?"

"There's a small one, for your office."

He feels the tears and the despair biting at him.

"You've worked it all out, then?" he says.

She nods slightly. Her face heavier against the support of his hand.

"And our room, Ruth .… our bedroom?"

Her eyes flicker open now and look at him. She wants to see his face.

"Harry…" she says as the image clouds, the tears blurring her view of him.

"Don't go, Ruth."

He looks helplessly towards Erin.

"Harry…."

She tries to hold her head up one last time.

"Maybe we just … never deserved it…" and her eyes close as he feels her weight slump against him and feels the breath stop in his chest and clutches her tighter, unable, he thinks, to ever let go.

"You did…" he stutters between the silent sobs that wrench through him now.

The sound of the helicopter blades echoes distantly through the open doorway.

The grid is hollow and empty though the work continues, the threat continues, the atmosphere is heavy and lifeless.

Erin looks from Ruth's desk to the empty office and wonders, not for the first time, if this life asks too much of them.

Harry stands by the Thames looking out into the waters. Towers approaches him.

They stand silently side by side.

"Are you sure about this?" The HS breaks the moment.

Harry, eyes not leaving the water, nods.

"I can only imagine how difficult the last few months have been for you Harry."

"Betrayal, death and lies. It's what we do," murmers Harry.

"But no more, eh?"

Towers turns to him and offers his hand.

Harry meets it, the two facing each other.

"No more," he echoes and then he turns away. A silent, black coated figure striding out alone against the Thames.

The house is bathed in sunshine. Light streaming through the windows. Harry stands gazing out, packing cases around him, abandoned and unpacked. He raises a glass to his lips and takes a long slug of whisky, his eyes unblinking until a tear forms. He wipes it roughly away.

He turns from the window and looks at the chaos of the room.

There is an exasperated cry and a thud from upstairs.

"Bloody….thing!"

Harry's face breaks into a smile as he puts down his glass and slowly walks from the room.