Chapter 1 – On The Run

The dark cloud hung over his conscious like a bad memory, but not a single rain drop spilt from it's silken surface. Only blood and tears poured over his mind, washing over the best of his words, the best of his feelings. Loneliness was not enough punishment to serve him against his sin. His friends had all but abandoned him; his colleagues, his men. Those that had once looked up to him now turned their disgusted faces away, leaving him to rot in his own self-hatred that he felt right now.

Hiding in his home was no good. He'd had to quickly run, far from the station, away from his troubles. Truth be told, this was not very much like him. In usual circumstances, he would never back down and always stand his ground. But nobody believed him. They hadn't seen what had really happened, only heard what he'd said before.

And you dare to get in my way, I swear to God, I will kill you.

They'd all heard it. None of them would ever doubt that he could possibly hold up a gun and fire. Many times he had felt like pulling the trigger on that mouthy tart, but never had he thought that he would actually commit the crime. It was all his fault. He shouldn't have fired, his aim was out of line, he should've known that he would miss by inches. Funny what can happen in two seconds flat.

Gene Hunt was on the run. He'd not even had a chance to pack any bags, he'd had to escape straight away. He felt like a convict, even thought he knew the truth. It didn't stop him feeling like he was to blame. Blurry eyed, he thought back to the day when everything had gone wrong…

oOoOo

Apparently in slow motion, Alex fell to the floor, her expression stuck in what could've been perceived as shock or terror. She didn't look up as Gene called her name. He tried again. She was now laid out across the concrete floor, blood seeping through her thin clothing and dribbling into a pool beside her. He stood over her, his gun still smoking in his hand. From this angle, it was easy to see that her pupils had glazed over and she was no longer in consciousness. He froze where he stood, a wash of guilt and tragedy cleansing him. He didn't even notice as Ray, Chris and Shaz entered the scene, standing with him to stare at their DI as she died slowly on the cold, cold ground. It was Shaz who had spoken first.

"You… you've shot her." The girl whispered, before her fiancée took her into his arms and allowed her to sob gently into his jacket. But Chris himself looked like he was the one who needed moral support. His face was scrunched into pain.

"What happened?" He asked faintly.

Gene couldn't answer. He didn't move. His eyes never left hers. They stared back, empty.

"Guv?" Chris began again. "What happened?"

"Shut up, yer div." Ray croaked, unable to initiate proper sarcastic tone of voice. "Call an ambulance."

"Right, yeah." Chris moved away, carefully removing the sobbing Shaz from his chest; she pawed after him, unable to stand properly by herself. Poor girl. Chris spoke into his radio softly. "Ambulance needed, emergency…"

Ignoring everything around him was quite easy, it seemed to Gene. He could stand there forever – it felt like he had been doing.

"Guv…" Ray's voice broke through his silence. "Was it you?"

"Yeah." Gene managed, all his fight lost.

"How come? Tell me."

"I…I…" The words failed him, but he had to explain. Ray had been his old mate since the beginning, it wasn't fair to leave him in the dark. "…there was a struggle. She was going to kill her… I had to shoot…"

"You shot Drake then?" Ray continued.

"Yeah. Yeah I did."

"Bloody hell."

"How could you?" Shaz yelled, voice breaking at random points in her sentences. "I knew you were wicked but I didn't think you had it in you to be so… ugh, you've killed her! She's gonna die, and it's all your fault! When you said… I didn't think you'd go through with it!"

"Shazzer…" Chris began to comfort her, holding her close and rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

"Look, Guv," Ray sounded defeated. "We've gotta arrest yer…"

"No!" Gene managed to lose the trance he had found himself under, snapping his head up to frown at his colleagues. "No… I didn't… well, I did, but… no…"

"Get him!" Shaz cried. "He shot her!" They could hear the ambulance approaching.

It was then that Gene had given them the slip, having to elbow Ray in the face to avoid the cuffs, pushing past Chris mournfully and racing through the coppers towards the Quattro…

oOoOo

He was driving now, had been for days. He'd only stopped once when he'd heard the news that DI Alex Drake was in a coma. How could he not visit her? But his plans for her awakening had not worked out, and he had only been greeted by angry nurses who recognised his face as wanted, so he'd had to dash. Thinking through, he realised solemnly that the station would have his car on record: the registration, make, colour, everything. They'd trace it eventually, even if it took forever. He was going to get caught.

"Sorry." He muttered as he stamped on the breaks. "Gotta go."

He exited his precious vehicle with reluctance, but hurriedly as he knew that more important things were at stake – his life, for example. If Bolly didn't wake up from her coma soon, he would have to spend a life-time of punishment. But no, it wasn't his prison sentence that would be his comeuppance. It would be the thought of never seeing her face again, just replaying that scene over and over in his mind.

Gene jogged through the soggy London streets at night, searching for refuge somewhere for a while. There was no where he could go. He was trapped. He would be caught.

Bollinger Knickers would never see him again.

This is not the end of the fic, this is just the beginning. I only wrote this much because I wanted to see if anyone would like it. Criticism welcome, please R&R, thanks.