Gene,

I think your letter is perhaps the hardest to write. I will do my best, but forgive me if it is a little disjointed. Finding the words to say all I want to might be more difficult than I originally anticipated – especially as I have, naturally, had a few glasses of wine at this point.

When I first arrived here, I thought I understood how everything worked. I thought I knew why I was here. Well, I didn't know the first thing about anything. And over the last few months especially, I've began to wonder if maybe all of this is actually real after all. I hope it is, in a way. The idea of you and all the wonderful people who surround you disappearing when I leave is not a pleasing one.

Then again, the fact that Martin Summers is even here proves that this world is more than a dystopia created by my mind. The fact that he changed past events suggests that this world isn't mine, either. What if it was, though? What then?

I wonder how I will leave you. I hope I don't just vanish. It would be a terrible waste of time to send people looking for me when I will not be there to be found. (Although, may I suggest that you don't take this for granted? Especially not if I was following a suspect or something similar at the time). I hope I get the chance to say goodbye to you. Our relationship is a complicated one, but I can't say I haven't enjoyed it.

Mind you, I haven't always. When I first got here, I loathed you. It didn't take long for you to grow on me, though. Actually, given my upbringing and society, it should have taken much, much longer. Where I come from, you embody all the traits I should find distinctly unattractive. You are insensitive, rude, sexist, racist, ageist, classist, a smoker, a drinker (although since being here, who am I to talk? I wonder if I will keep my liking of wine when I go back?), violent, angry, and a misogynist (look it up).

But it's all a bit of a façade, really, isn't it? You can be quite sensitive when you want to be, you're kind, you're funny, you're fiercely protective and you're loyal. You were my one constant in this crazy, mixed up world I found myself in. Thank you, Gene Hunt – you crazy, impossible man.

I hope you know that even though I have to go back – my daughter needs me – if I had no responsibilities at home, then I would probably choose to stay here. With you.

Be happy, Gene. Please.

All my love,

Alex Drake

P.S. I hope we got another shot at our date before I left. Our last one didn't end quite the way I had hoped. Make of that what you will.