Hi, I'm Becky and this is my first fic. It starts with Sam's point of view, then moves onto Alex's and then finally to the 'main' character. There is some of the Gene Genie later on as well. People looking for Galex, sorry! This is more of another ending to A2A; there is a little Galex later on but not much. I originally wrote this for my best friend and me because we hated the ending. She loves it (or pretends to XD) and I got addicted to writing it so it's ridiculously long and probably awful. Reviews would be great, if it's awful just tell me but please don't just say it's bad, explain why (storyline, dialogue characters etc).
BASIC SUMMARY: Sam decides Gene and Alex deserve another chance at happiness so enlists the help of Molly's best friend Alice Moorland. Stranded in 1988 she must figure out a way to help Alex and Gene and stop Keats who is raging another campaign to destroy Gene. Will she be able to stop him, see Alex and Gene reunited or will she fail...? That sounds bad XD Just read it please!
Thank you to Isobel for being so nice about it and not letting me stop and to LionessOfTheQuattro for convincing me to put it on.
I'll stop rambling now and let you read it :) Enjoy!
"Well." I say, standing up and slamming my hands down on the table, suddenly angry, angry at the picture in front of me; Alex Drake, a fighter sitting alone at a bar, defeated. And far away my DCI who fought the world and was an angry, violent man but a good man sitting alone in an old Italian. They both went down fighting and now they both sit there, alone and defeated. "I'm sick of this. They both deserve to be happy and I am going to do something about it."
They all look up at me, and just for a moment I feel like I was back in Manchester CID. I expect the Gov to come in the door and make some sarcastic quip, Phyllis to run in demanding us to answer our phones, Ray to smirk and disagree, Annie to smile encouragingly, Chris to be confused. Joking, but expecting me to be able to solve it, to be able to rub it in Litton's face and have a drink afterwards. But we aren't and they look sadly disbelievingly at me.
"Oh you are, are you?" Came a soft, well spoken voice behind me. "And what to you plan to do, DI Tyler?"
I spin around in shock. An elderly fair skinned man faces me. His pale skin is tanned slightly as though by years of spending times outdoors, his hair is silver and his eyes are a startling deep dark brown. He is wearing a light grey suit, a thin light blue shirt and a silk tie, well dressed basically and sounds well brought up.
But that is not what made me unable to answer him. He emits an aura of power, the kind of man who has your respect simply by wanting to earn it. The kind of man who deserves the power God has seen fit to bestow upon him. A natural leader and a man who you know you can trust without having to ask.
"I am so sorry." He continues his voice warm "That must have sounded so rude."
"Who-who are you?" I ask, stuttering slightly as I extend my hand formally.
"I am the manager of the pub" He answers in his soft captivating voice. "And this is my son." He gestures a young man forward, about 33 I would say. When he introduces him the elderly man's face lights up, shining with love and pride.
"Sam!" The guy greets me enthusiastically; he also shakes my hand; up and down with similar enthusiasm to his greeting.
"Hello." I smile, swept away a bit by it all. The others sit behind me in shocked silence.
The young man has darker skin than his father, with jet black hair but the same eyes. He is dressed in tight dark blue jeans and a plain white shirt, untucked and the top button undone. His presence is just as powerful as his father's, but he emits happiness and friendship.
"Same again, I presume for the rest of you?" The manager says as he pulls two chairs up to our table and sits down with his son. We all agree and he gestures casually at Nelson. Nelson comes over with a tray of drinks, including a scotch for the manager and a pint for his son. "So, Sam." He smiles after taking a sip. "What exactly do plan to do to help your friends?"
"I'm not sure." I admit, at a slight loss. I had made an outburst in a flash of anger and now something was about be done but I had no idea what to do. "I want to help them so badly but I don't actually know what I can do..." I trail off, pathetically. A failure.
"Well they certainly both deserve their happiness." The old man muses "You were right about that but how to go about it?"
"I can't help but wonder," The young man interrupts "whether Gene would come in here at all. You lot know him best, would he, would he come in?"
I place my head in my hands, defeated. This stranger has realised something we were all far too blind to see. Gene's stubbornness, his desire to help our lost souls. He could never come in. It's not a matter of choice, not really.
"Of course he would." Chris insists indignantly.
"Yeah, we're his mates ain't we?" Ray exclaims, angry, defiant.
"I always thought he would..." Annie trails off, her hope dwindling fast.
It is only Shaz and me that haven't replied. Shaz with her intuition and unclouded vision. Shaz who is shaking her head. "No." She says, that simple little word, so bleak, unadorned.
"No. Of course he won't. I don't think he can." I say, my head still lowered, my voice flat. "He is bound by that world. He has to stay there, to look after the souls. He can't leave. That place. It defines him."
"Don't tell me you are gonna start coming out with that psycho bollocks too Sam?" Ray moans a flippant comment to mask the pain I see flickering in his eyes.
"It's psychology Ray and as far as I know DI Tyler is not a trained police psychoanalyser, no. I'm off to bed. See you lot later." Alex sounded slightly more cheerful than I had heard in ages.
"How long have you been there?" I ask, worriedly. I don't want her hopes raised, plus I want it to be a surprise, if we can do it.
"Only long enough to hear Ray complain at you. I'm going to bed." She leaves and I smile slightly. I can't help but wonder if it was this strange pairing that lifted her mood, the son, emitting happiness. He glances at me. He mouths something: perceptive Sam. I shrug it off.
"So, if he won't come in..." I say tiredly. 'This is impossible' I think.
"Couldn't she go out?" Annie asks, slipping her hand into mine.
"Yeah, I mean we're all dead. The Guv included and he's out there." Shaz points out.
"That's a good idea, let her go out!" I exclaim, why didn't I think of that before?
"Yes." The manager downs the last of his whisky. He smiles, his dark eyes twinkling.
"Yes?" I ask, shocked. I didn't think it would be so easy.
"It's not quite that simple I am afraid DI Tyler." He admits. "We can't just send her out. That world, by her choosing to leave it, has rejected her now. She has been cleansed, purified; made ready for this world, say what you will. But if she is to go back there needs to be someone to go there who is not ready for it, someone with a pure mind and no intentions bar helping DCI Hunt and DI Drake, someone who goes there but doesn't belong and then leaves to make way for DI Drake."
"But who would be that pure?" Chris asks, confused.
"A child." Shaz said.
"Exactly DC Granger, and there we have our problem."
"Who does it have to be a child?" Annie asks. "There are pure adults about too."
"Not many," the son points out "and besides. A child is completely pure, unsullied by the practicalities of the grown up world, not evil intentions, only wanting to help."
"But we can't send a young child in! They'd never understand." Annie objects.
"So, we have our problem how do you intend to fix it?" The old man asks, Nelson appearing with another whisky for him. "Thank you Nelson." He smiles, taking a sip.