It was over. His body was battered and broken, but Gene Hunt would never let anyone know how much pain he was in. So he stood tall as he led his team through the cold, dark streets, towards the welcoming glow of the Railway Arms.

He watched as Ray, Chris and Shaz walked through the doors wondering if he'd ever see their like again. And Bolly… she was standing beside him, glowing with happiness at the realisation that her job here was done. He hated the fact that he was about to break her heart. For all of the time he'd known her, Alex Drake had clung onto the fact that somehow she was going to get home, that she would see her daughter again.

'That's it, I help bring them here with you… I can go home Gene!" she smiled up at him. Gene knew he was seeing her at her most beautiful. Coward that he was he couldn't bring himself to reply. He met her eyes, hoping that she'd see the truth. Then her face fell as realisation hit.

"No! I'm lying in a hospital bed!"

Shit, she was crying again.

"Come here Bols."

He pulled her into his arms, trying in his own way to comfort her.

"Molly… my baby," she sobbed against him.

"I know," Gene whispered into her hair. "Way of the world, Alex. She'll be fine."

It was a lie. There might come a day when Molly would accept her mother's death but the process of healing would be a long and painful one. They both knew it.

Eventually Alex's sobs became quieter and she pulled away from him.

"See you around Bollykecks," he said.

"You promised to take me dancing Gene," she offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Gene frowned, not quite sure what she meant.

"No music," he replied, certain that she was still deliberately trying to confuse him.

"We don't need it."

The next thing he knew, she had guided his arms about her. Gently she began to sway against him. Gene knew that any protests he might make would be ignored but he felt like a complete twat. The city was silent. Gene couldn't hear anything except the beating of his own heart.

"Alex," he warned. As much as he might have liked to, they couldn't stay here forever. He wished more than anything that he could go with her, but it wasn't his time. There were still things to learn, adventures to have. This life wasn't perfect but it was all he had.

"I know. I have to go… just a few more minutes…"

He pulled back just so that he could fix her face in his memory, not wanting to forget.

"Get one in for me as well."

Her hand drifted to the back of his neck as she tugged him closer for one last desperate kiss. Gene let his eyes drift shut, wanting to savour the moment…

… when the crack of a gunshot shattered the silence of the night and Alex's body became a dead weight in his arms. Gene clutched at her as she fell, collapsing to his knees in his efforts to stop her from hitting the ground. The raw ache in his throat told him that he must have screamed her name but he had no memory of making a sound.

The next thing he was aware of was footsteps echoing in the empty street, the shadow falling over them. Gene had no words to express his hatred for the man standing with the smoking gun. If he hadn't held Alex's dying body in his arms, he would have beaten Keats to death with his bare hands.

"How did you think this would end, Hunt? With everyone living happily ever after? Marriage, triplets and a three bed-roomed house in Hounslow? This is her fault. She weakened you. "

"No!"

Alex stirred against him. Her eyes fluttering open.

"That's it Alex, love, stay with me," Gene urged.

"There's only one way she's getting in there."

The door to the pub was only a few metres away… too far for Alex to walk unaided. And Gene knew that if he let her go then Keats would take her.

But if Gene took Alex into the Railway Arms, there would be no coming back. This carefully constructed world would pass into the hands of Jim Keats. Gene couldn't let that happen… but he couldn't give him Alex.

"Gene?" her voice was so quiet that he almost missed her plea. "You're needed here. Don't let him … don't let him…"

Blood dribbled out of her mouth as she spoke. The effort was killing her. Gene knew then that he had lost. Ignoring her protests, Gene scooped Alex up into his arms and started walking towards the pub.

"I can't go in there!" she choked.

"Yes, you can," he whispered into her hair. "They've got a saloon bar."

She made a feeble effort to hit him, but he barely felt the impact of her fists. The door was ten paces away… nine… eight… Hysterical laughter tore through the night. Gene refused to look back at Keats as he stumbled under Alex's dead weight as she lost her fight with consciousness. His clothes were wet with her blood. Two more steps… they were going to make it. Shifting Alex in his arms, Gene reached out to open the door when a second shot rang out.

Gene collapsed with a cry as the bullet tore through his thigh. He fell to his knees, Alex spilling out of his arms and onto the unforgiving concrete…

"You've already won, bastard!" he hissed, one hand clutching hold of Alex, the other trying to stem the flow of blood from his own body.

"Not enough. I don't just want your world… I want her… and then you."

Keats stood over them, the gun still held loosely in his hand. With a shout of laughter he drove his boot into Gene's gut. The smirk on his face was sickening. Close… so fucking close. Gene would have gladly sacrificed himself for Alex, but he knew that wasn't possible, not anymore. The little shit would take Alex first and there was nothing he could do about it. Keats kicked him again, stamping on the arm that still held Alex's hand, but still Gene refused to let go.

A shout of laughter went up from the pub behind them. Loud enough that Keats was distracted for a second and Gen took his chance. Using his good leg, he kicked Keats in the balls. He took a certain amount of grim satisfaction in watching the man drop like a stone. The gun clattered across the pavement, disappearing in the darkness. Gene went after it, only realising his mistake as his had closed around the cool metal. Keats didn't want the gun… he wanted Alex. Bending over her prone form, he had taken her head in his hands.

Gene tried to get to his feet but at first his legs wouldn't support him. Even when he had managed to stagger a few steps, his hands were shaking as he attempted to take aim.

"Hello Jimbo," he said, hating the weakness in his voice.

Involuntarily, Keats looked up.

"Goodbye Jimbo."

Gene squeezed the trigger, emptying the remaining rounds into that hated face.

He thought he was too late to save Alex. By the time he had managed to crawl to her side, he thought that she couldn't possibly have any blood left in her body. It was only as he gathered her in his arms and kissed her silent lips that he realised there was still warmth within her.

"Gene?" she whispered.

"I'm here," he replied.

He shouldn't be feeling this weak, he realised. There was blood… too much blood to just belong to Alex. His leg was a mess, and Gene realised with cold certainty that the bullet must have nicked an artery. He was dying from a gunshot wound… the irony of the situation didn't escape him. This wasn't the first time he had died.

It was different.

Last time there hadn't been any pain. The shot to the head had been a quick and easy death. All he'd felt was a brief flash of fear, before anger had overwhelmed him. He remembered that much. Now he realised that he wasn't angry anymore. Alex was with him. If it all ended here, with her, then so be it.

Almost without thinking, Gene shifted her in his embrace, making them both more comfortable. Words she had spoken so long ago came back to him with startling clarity. This didn't need to be about pain. She was barely conscious, barely breathing, but Gene knew what he had to say. Leaning closer, he whispered three words in her ear. A slight catch in her breath was the only sign that she had heard him, but it was enough.

He was at peace. He could let go. Gene closed his eyes as he heard a familiar voice…

"All right Guv?"