Gene stalked along the long hospital corridors in his usual manner; domineering, powerful, as if he had every right to be here. He did have every right to be here, come to think of. So why was his stomach in knots, his fists clenched?

Well, he had every right to be a bit nervous, too. Not every day you get back from running away from the law (even though he was the law) to find out the very reason you were running has woken up.

Whilst he hadn't had to see her, bar the one desperately quick visit earlier in the month, he had almost come to convince himself that he hadn't been responsible. Almost. It was like he was telling himself a story, and it was like a game of Chinese whispers; the words were getting more and more twisted. Deep down, though, he still carried the burning guilt. It was his fault, all his. What was wrong with him? Couldn't even hit that stupid bint Jeanette but managed to shoot his DI instead?

More than his DI. Alex was his friend. Another thing Gene repeatedly failed to convince himself of was that Alex was just a friend. Yeah, there was the part of him that wanted to shag her senseless; but like he had realised the first time he saw her, there was the part of him that knew he never would.

Why? Maybe she was too good for him, maybe he didn't deserve her. Maybe he knew that it would never be just a shag- albeit probably a fantastic, mind-blowing shag, but still.

Gene turned the corner, and glared at a nurse that got in his way. He entered the ward, and marched forward, until he reached the room.

She was still in a room by herself. Gene was glad about at least that. He paused as he walked in, and stopped.

Alex was awake, sat up in her bed, her skin eerily pale against her hospital gown, and the dark of her hair. When she had been asleep, the one time he had visited her, he had been so desperate for her to wake up. He hadn't been used to seeing her so still, so pale and silent; Alex was never silence. Now, watching her, concentrating, lost in whatever it was she was reading, he felt uncomfortable. What right did he have to be here? He had bloody put her in here in the first place!

She was leaning over, scanning through a list. Gene coughed quietly to alert her of his presence. Alex's head shot up, and she stared at him. Gene nodded at her, and she opened her mouth as if she was going to speak, but apparently thought better of it. She nodded briefly, and looked back down at her papers.

"Just give me a minute."

Gene approached the bed and tossed the bag onto the bed. "Brought you some clothes, Bolls."

"Thanks." She smiled at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Discharging myself."

"Sure that's a good idea?"

Alex glanced up at him. "I'm not stupid. I know what's been going on."

Gene sighed. "Know what, exactly?"

Alex paused. "Well, that you're in shit, basically."

Gene gave a half-grimace, half grin. "Sums it up well, Bolls."

Gene stood outside of the curtained cubicle as Alex changed. Any other woman, chances are he would have been having a good ogle. Not now. Not her.

"Weakened bladder control?" He read out, and couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. "We'll 'ave to stop off at the shop, Bolls, get you some incontinence pads."

"That isn't my sheet." He heard Alex's weary voice come from inside the curtain. He flicked over the page and found the sheet that had her name on the top. "Oh." He scanned through the list, looking at her report, and winced at the in depth descriptions of removing the bullet. At least they hadn't enclosed bloody pictures. He felt sick already.

"Nearly ready, Drake? Longer I stay 'ere, the more inclined I feel to cause myself and other people grievous bodily harm." He paused immediately when he realised what he had said. Shit. Another everyday phrase turned into taboo because of what had happened. Because of him.

Alex didn't seemed to have caught the significance, because she continued talking. "Try being in here for a month. You'd be offering sexual bargains up to the nurses for an early release."

Gene gave a twisted half-smile at the curtain. "Something you want to tell me, Bolls?"

Alex emerged from the cubicle, dressed in the clothes he had brought for her. "No." She told him simply, and reached over for the discharge papers. As she signed them, Gene took her list of medication and symptoms and folded it, slipping it into his pocket.

"Bet you'll be glad to get out of here." He remarked as she pulled on her jacket. Alex raised her eyebrows. "That just might be the understatement of the year."

Gene watched her as she reached over to flick one last time through the papers.

"Drake…Once all of this is over and done with-"

"It'll be fine, Guv. I'll tell them everything."

Gene looked down at his hands. "Yeah. But I wasn't talkin' about that."

Alex looked puzzled. "Well, what were you talking about that."

"Bolly. I'm not likely to forget about all o' the things that 'appened before-" He trailed off and Alex looked awkwardly at him.

"Well…no. Obviously." There was a silence. She coughed. "Maybe we should just….get all this sorted before we-"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's what I thought, Bolls. Good idea." They both nodded, acting like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. She'd forget about his preference over the blonde tart, ignoring her warnings and his bitter harsh words about Molly, as well as the reason a bullet had been pumped into her stomach, and feel bitter that even after getting bloody shot, she couldn't stay in a normal world with her daughter. He could forget the fact that she had "lied" to him when he trusted her, disobeyed his commands, and gotten involved with the bizarre officer he shot the same day he shot her.

Oh yeah. They would manage to put it behind them for the time being.