Something In The Air - Part Two

Ashes To Ashes

Aftermath of Episode 7 with a mention of Episode 6.

Alex Drake struggles to deal with the events of that night and the conflicts that are in her head..

This life is all in my head. I am living in a dream world, one that will disappear in three days.

I am going home, I will see Molly, Evan will be there and nothing else will matter.

I won't be lying on my sofa, unable to stop this flood of tears as I worry about Shaz, who is lying seriously hurt in hospital tonight. Shaz isn't real, she is my construct and nothing more, yet I can still feel the warm, sticky blood on my hands, that took ages to get clean, my arms arch from pumping her chest and my head hurts from the adrenalin that rushed through my blood stream. The smell of death and rain are still on my skin, despite long shower I had, when I got here.

Chris that daft, funny man, he loves her, he knew that tonight. It was seeing him so wild and broken that spurred me on, it was seeing the horror in Gene's eyes that drove me to take control and defeat death tonight but that won't move me when I go home nor will Chris and Ray's frenzied attack on Gil Hollis matter and the fact that Gene allowed it to happen.

When I wake up, Gene Hunt will not be in my head, I won't be bothered by those cool, liquid, grey eyes that burned me tonight, it hurt him when I betrayed him to my Mother. I really do hate it when she talks to him like that and I hated removing him from the case.

I had to take control. When I wake The Manc Lion will not make me feel guilty, he won't roar in my head disturbing me. Evan will by mine and Molly's Godfather once more the man that came to my rescue, that I have relied on all these years. Yet it was Gene that really made me smile, when he asked me to dinner, his casual approach did little to cover his shyness, it was touching. Maybe I am going to miss him, I was truly afraid for his life tonight. I am feeling a creeping regret that we haven't fulfilled the promise of a night together or even a kiss. Now I just can't care, I can't think about the peace I felt when I dreamt he was in my bed and I can't think about I am going home but the tears that are falling hard, tell me that I do.

When I wake up, I won't be so upset to have seen him puking is guts behind those bins tonight. I won't be so disturbed that two hard, seasoned coppers were nearly brought to their knees, though only he will know that I cried out there and I will never tell anyone that he was so sick. The death of a female police officer would have been catastrophic for him, I understood. Together, bound by our unique communication, we returned to work.

All that matters now, is that I can go home, that I can hold my little girl and I can do that

Because Gene Hunt isn't real.