Gene's Pov- Feelings

I didn't mean it. It was an accident, one of those events that take a second, but are regretted for a lifetime. I would never have shot you- I mean I did shoot you- but never with malice, it wasn't intended.

Bolly, I think my heart broke when you fell to the ground, with that gorgeous white coat that has given me the horn more often than not, splattered red with your blood. I saw you looking at me, eye's wide with fear, I knew then what a mistake I had made in trusting her word over yours. I should have listened to Ray, he trusted you. I should have too. It terrified me that look on your face, one of fear, surprise and calmness.

You were never terrified, you were-are my brave, ballsy DI that pranced around my kingdom giving me a headache with those mad theories of yours and a body to cause a distraction. The best police officer I had ever met, with knowledge and courage to rival Sam. You helped me when I was grieving for him; I never said how much I missed him. When he left there was a huge gapping hole inside of me, and no matter how proud I was of Ray and Chris it just wouldn't fill.

Then you turned up, wearing a skirt short enough to see your breakfast and that hole slowly filled up in the evenings at Luigi's nursing a whisky talking about anything and it's uncle, I suppose I saw a little bit of him in you, the way your eyes sparkle and I know your about to laugh or the way you're the only one brave enough to stand up to me.

I watched you as you closed your eyes and the rest of the team joined me, when I think back to that second I think why didn't I move? I've cradled injured and dying people more times than I can count, bleedin 'ell I even cradled a dying man that I shot. But why didn't I hold you? Why didn't I whisper it would be all right when you could still hear me? I suppose I was scared, scared that you'd be angry with me or worse that you would cry. I was scared to see the blood, to watch you fade away and know that I had done it. I'm a coward.

I stood there gun held loosely in hand, as Ray dropped to the ground beside you, as Shaz ran for help. I watched the glares I received and felt a lump rise in my throat, my team were more loyal to you than to me, they connected to you and you understood them whereas I was always individual to my team at the front and alone, so alone. They thought I had tried to murder you, shot you in cold blood, they turned their self's away from me pushed me away.

I waited for the Plod's to arrive, for the cold metal against my skin, to be lead away to rot in prison with the guilt following me like a black cloud that I was responsible.

'She's alive' Chris suddenly yelled and I looked up from my state of pity, shock and blame. My gun dropped to the floor with a clang and I roughly shoved Ray out of the way. I rushed to your side and pulled you towards me clutching and rocking you, holding my hands against the bleeding to steady the flow. I cradled you like I had all the others but I felt a sensation I wasn't accustomed to; desperation. I begged, pleaded, shouted at you to wake up but you just laid there unmoving, pale and lifeless.

The ambulance crew came and took you away from me, carted you into the ambulance. I turned and walked away. I had to run. To escape. I'm on the bloody lav here Alex, so you better wake up, my stomach won't unknot until you do. Prison doesn't suit me Bol's I need you to wake up so I can apologise, to tell you everything, so I can find out the truth about you, about that tape, Summers and Me. Come back to me, us Bols