Two Sides of the Same Coin
*SPOILERS* for 3.1 (no, I haven't seen it, but I have read spoilers for this episode, so unless you have to and/or don't mind spoilers, STAY AWAY! There, now you can't say I didn't warn you.
Also, *spoilers* for 2.8.
I had originally intended this to be a multi-chapter fic, but it didn't work out, so it's just a one-shot now. Nevertheless, I do really appreciate any feedback, so please review!! =)
"Bolly! BOLLY!"
No! He couldn't be here! This was 2008! Two-thousand-and-bloody-eight!
She was not in a coma back in 1982. She was NOT!
She had just got back to Molly, to her daughter. To her beautiful little girl, whom she had almost lost all that time ago. Years ago for her, there, but only days ago here.
Here and there.
The trouble was, which was which?
Gene or Molly. Molly or Gene.
Then and now. Real or unreal.
Coma or awake.
Dead or alive.
***
The second the door to her mother's room burst open, Molly knew something was wrong; she had been told to let her mum 'rest', and even though she had wanted to stay with her mother, she had listened to the doctor and left. Her mum needed the best chance at recovery, and even though what she wanted most was to cling to her mother and never let go, she had to make do with a hug and an "I knew you wouldn't leave me."
Her mum needed rest.
No, the bullet hadn't penetrated– and the word alone made her shudder, never mind the thought of what would have happened if it had – her mum's skull, but she knew Alex wasn't out of the woods just yet; she was still vulnerable, still weak, even if she would never admit it.
It had looked grim when Evan collected her from school on her birthday; she could tell by the way he gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. She knew he was trying to remain calm for her sake, but she knew even then what her mum's odds were.
The doctors and nurses had tried to be optimistic for her at first, but she had seen straight through them. She had inherited that knack from her mother; Alex too was good at telling when people were being truthful or not. Especially since her dad had left them after years, Molly and her mother's relationship had thrived on truth.
And so the doctors couldn't reassure her with their smiles of pity. Or worse, false hope. She knew all the time what danger her mum was in. She might not want to know, but she did. The tubes and machines had been staring her in the face for the last few days.
Waiting outside her mum's room, Molly knew that Alex should not be out of bed, let alone out of her room.
Something was wrong.
***
As she collapsed onto the cold, hard floor, Alex could feel the thudding of her heart mirror the words in her head.
Dead or alive. Dead or alive. Dead or alive.
She closed her eyes.
***
My name is Alex Drake.
I was shot – twice – and now I can't tell if I'm here or there. Is it 2008 that's real, or 1982?
For all I know, it could be both. Or neither.
I don't even know what I'm fighting for anymore. Which is real; Gene or Molly?
And do I get the choice between them?
***
When she next opened her eyes, it seemed that neither world was quite done with her yet.
Four different voices coming from just outside the room.
Three male, one female.
Two knocks at the door.
One face.
"Gene."