When she closed her eyes, it was imprinted on her eyelids.
Him falling, falling, falling.
It had all started safely enough; a fairly standard (if a death in suspicious circumstances can ever be called 'standard') call to what appeared to be a dead body at a local demolition site from a member of the public. Gene Hunt, ever the DCI and commander, had swept out of the office as usual, a hurricane in black wool, and she'd hurried after him, tutting at the sexist remarks he'd thrown Shaz's way to imply that she couldn't come. The Quattro had suffered its usual loving abuse, tyres screeching in protest as it bolted round London; to pass the time and quell car-sickness, Alex had counted the number of close misses they'd had with various pedestrians and other road-users. She was down to her toes and receiving strange looks from the back by the time the Audi had finally found its way to Elgar House, a long disused building that had once happily housed disabled children.
Strange place to leave a body, she'd thought disjointedly as they got out, heading up to find the cadaver in question. An elderly lady had been sitting on the steps of the house, sipping lukewarm tea provided by a young bobby hovering awkwardly next to her, who'd visibly quailed as he saw the car coming towards them.
"You are?" Gene had barked at the lady, his snakeskin boots thudding on the dank concrete as he headed over. The PC had opened his mouth to speak, but the lady got in first.
"Elizabeth Grayne. Are you police?"
"Yeah. Where's the body?"
"Up on the first floor. There's a balcony round at the back of the house, it was just in front of that."
Gene had nodded gravely and strode off, leaving Alex to smile apologetically at Elizabeth Grayne and hurry after him.
"You know, there is a funny thing called respect, Gene, you should try learning it sometime," she'd hissed as Gene took the steps three at a time, almost six foot's worth of broad frame impatient with the small, easy steps. He'd just snorted, pausing at the top of the stairs to get his bearings and marching off again before Alex could even catch up. Damn these high heels. Must remember to get some flat shoes... trainers? But then he'd tower over me.
Her thoughts had been interrupted by Gene's triumphant "found 'im!" a few yards away; she'd hurried after him to find him crouched over what appeared to be a corpse, reaching out to touch him.
"Gene, what are you doing? You'll contaminate the crime scene!" Alex had hissed, grabbing at his shoulder, confused. Gene might have been a complete idiot at times, but even he knew about not contaminating the crime scene.
He had spared her a contemptuous look before pressing his fingers to the body's neck.
And then Alex had realised.
He's still breathing!
Their 'body' had turned out to simply be a drunk tramp taking a nap.
Gene had growled, standing up; Alex rolled her eyes, knowing she should be thankful the man wasn't dead but at the same time pissed off at a wasted call-out. Ah well, might as well make the most of it.
Leaning down towards the man, she had begun to speak to him, putting her hand on his shoulder to try and rouse him, attempting and failing to ignore the stench of alcohol that had hung around him like flies to meat. Gene had already stepped back, his face a mask of disgust; Alex raised her eyebrows at him. You get in a similar state on a regular basis, Mister.
"Sir? Can you hear me? Sir?"
The tramp had remained immobile. Alex had eased herself up, brushing off the knees of her tight jeans.
"He's just utterly intoxicated. We should take him back to the station and keep an eye on him there."
"Don't want that in the cells," Ray had muttered, staring at the now snoring figure lying just in front of the balcony. Alex had simply raised her eyebrows.
"Guv, give me a hand with him."
Gene had grumbled, but reluctantly moved forwards to help her drag the slumbering form to its feet, supporting it as best he could whilst trying to catch a glimpse of her cleavage. Alex had huffed at him, taking the tramp's head and shoulders and deliberately putting her hand under his arse to annoy Gene. He'd just glared at her.
Caught up in their little game, neither of them had noticed the tramp's eyes flickering open.
"AAAHHHHHHH!"
The tramp had writhed, startled and frightened; Alex had been thrown onto her back somewhere near Ray and Chris, but Gene had been pushed back against the railings.
Alex had only been able to watch in horror as they buckled under his full force, sending him twisting down towards the ground.
A dead second had passed.
And then she had been screaming for an ambulance, hurtling down the stairs and nearly going flying herself, running to the unmoving body of her DCI, yelling his name in his ear as his eyes remained firmly closed. She'd barely even registered people milling around her and Gene, someone covering him with a blanket, Ray leaning over to mop up a tiny trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth; her world had been him, solely and entirely and utterly him, his closed eyelids and the cool, pockmarked skin of his cheek, the rasping breath against her fingers.
The ambulance had turned up after what felt like an eternity, loading the DCI in with almost military efficiency under the barked instructions of Ray Carling; the DS'd been whiter than the proverbial sheet, hands shaking as he yelled at the paramedics. Alex had remained silent, clutching Gene's scratched hand, the tears chasing each other down her cheeks as the siren shrieked miserably above her, a mechanical soul-mate for her mood.
And now she sat in a small hospital ward, still holding that same hand, watching that same man sleeping peacefully in front of her.
"He's very lucky," a doctor said softly behind her, reaching over her shoulder to adjust the nasal oxygen tubes crowding Gene's face. Alex watched his fingers on her lover's face, reaching out to stroke Gene's forehead, praying that he could feel her, derive comfort from her touch.
"If he was very lucky, he wouldn't have had the fall in the first place," she said quietly, her eyes still fixed on Gene. The doctor chuckled briefly, picking Gene's wrist up to check a drip, nodding in satisfaction at Gene's condition.
"Well, as far as we can see, Gene suffered few ill effects from the fall, it's a matter of concussion and bruising. He's lucky he fell onto grass; concrete could have killed him."
Alex nodded, squeezing Gene's limp fingers as the doctor moved away to check on another patient. Ray and Chris had long since gone home, only coming in briefly to reassure themselves that Gene was still breathing, clearly uncomfortable being around their DCI at his most vulnerable; she was alone in the small room, just her and Gene and the soothing beat of the ECG monitor by his side.
He's lucky he fell onto grass; concrete could have killed him.
Alex sniffed, the emotions of the day finally catching up on her. Gene looked so... small, so delicate, something that needed to be protected. Such a role reversal to what he normally saw, his DI needing his help and his constant presence. He could have lost his life today.
A tear splashed onto his chest. It took Alex a minute to realise that it was hers.
"Ugh..."
Alex, still lost in her thoughts of losing Gene, didn't hear at first; her hand tightened on his as she relived his fall, his body twisting down, the hammer-blow of the thud, a hapless body meeting the cruel earth, the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth...
"Ow... yer 'urtin' me!"
"Gene?"
Alex all but leapt out of her chair, staring up at Gene's face as he blinked slowly, his eyes turning to meet hers, hazed with sleep, the hauntingly familiar blue-grey bringing tears to her own eyes.
"Gene, are you alright? In any pain? Do you want me to fetch the doctor? Did you want to talk to Chris and Ray? We've got the tramp in custody, I feel it was an accident, but you'll probably disagree with me... Gene? Gene, talk to me."
He looked straight into her eyes, a tiny line between his eyebrows as he licked his lips, preparing to speak.
"Gene?"
He opened his mouth, still staring at her, as though some aspect of her was confusing him.
The words came out cold, confused, and blunt.
"Who's Gene?"
A/N: I know, I need to finish off the stories I've got in progress, but this just kind of came to me, courtesy of my ball (it hit me on the back of the head and voila!), so I wanted to write it. Hope you like it, please remember to review- do people want more? Thanks for reading! Jazzola