Hiya guys, sorry again for the wait, next chapter will probably be longer as it's the most important chapter. I hope you enjoy it and please review, this took me a whole week! Thanks xxxx
Chapter 4: Gene
February 1982
"Right you lot, plod found a body on Thackmire Lane," Gene said, pulling on his coat as he walked through CID. "Let's go."
Chris and Ray followed him out of CID and into the Quattro. He looked over at the empty passenger seat. "Where's Bolly?"
"Don't know gov, think it's her time of month, she looked like she was going to cry earlier," Ray says, looking up from a magazine him and Chris were gawping at.
"If she thinks having the decorators in is an excuse not to do any work she's got another bloody thing coming. I'll be ten minutes," he says, trying his best to ignore the worry that came from the pit of his stomach whenever she did anything out of the ordinary. Had someone hurt her? Is she ok? What if she isn't? What if something really terrible has happened and I didn't stop it? He thinks. Why am I so protective of her? She's just a bird. But she wasn't just a bird. She was Bolly. His Bolly. Nobody else's, his. And if someone had done something to her, he needed to know about it.
He walks through the double doors of CID, glancing at Alex's empty desk.
"Where's DI Drake?" He asks Shaz.
"Don't know gov," she replies. "I haven't seen her." He storms out of CID. Where the bloody hell is she? He thinks. Out of the corner of his eye her thought he saw someone in interview room 2, so went to look through the window.
He sighs, seeing Alex sat on the table in there, her body shaking and trembling as she sobbed. Her face was drenched in tears, her mascara had run all down her face and her lipstick smudged. Her nose was red and running and her once soft and bouncy hair hung limply at her shoulders, greasy and unkempt. But the thing he notices most is her arms. They are covered in long, deep scratches that he can only just see for the blood. The same blood that her hands are covered in. Anger boils in his blood, causing him to sway slightly. Who did this to her? I'm going to bloody kill them. No one does this to my Bolly and gets away with it.
He charges into the room. But his anger at whoever hurt her soon turns to concern as he sees the amount of damage that's been inflicted on her.
"Bolly," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. Her head snaps up and she quickly pulls down her sleeves, wiping her eyes on them as the silky blue fabric begins to turn red.
"Gene," she says, standing up, swaying a little because of the amount of blood she's lost.
He walks slowly towards her, not wanting to scare her or make her think he was going to hurt her too. "Are- Are you alright?" He says softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, to whisper to her that everything would be alright, to promise her that they'd catch her attacker, to help her clean herself up, to protect her. But she looked so fragile. He was scared to touch her because she looked like she'd break.
"Yeah, I'm great," she said quietly, but burst into tears again. He pulls her into a hug, stroking her dirty hair.
"Shhh," he soothes. "It'll be alright, I'm here." He softly kisses her hair, flinching slightly at the smell of it. Gordon Bennett! She really hasn't been looking after herself, he thinks. Either that or she's been hanging out in the sewer. "Who did this to you?"
She wipes her eyes again. "No one," she murmurs.
"Well what happened to your arms then?" He asks. She looks at him then suddenly starts screaming at him, pushing him away from her.
"Piss off! Get lost!" She shouts, tears pouring down her face again. "I'm fine! Just fuck off!"
"Bolls-"
"No! Piss off! Leave me alone!" She storms out leaving Gene stood there wondering what the hell had just happened. Bloody fruitcake woman, he thinks, glancing at the pools of blood on the table and floor. I should clean it up; she wouldn't want anyone else to know. Wait, Gene Hunt does NOT clean up after stupid loopy women DI's. Not a bloody chance!
Still, half an hour later, he found himself sat in interview room 2 with a cloth and basin of water, mopping up her blood from the floor. He stands up, pleased with himself. Mr Muscle would be proud, he thinks. He turns to leave but spots a small, bloodstained knife in the corner. He picks it up with his hankie and runs his thumb along the blade. Whoever cut her must have done it with some force; you couldn't cut pizza with this knife! He wraps it in his hankie and walks over to Viv.
"I want this sent to forensics for prints," he says, giving it to him. "And I don't want anyone to know about it, ok?"
Viv looks puzzled but does as he's told.
"Where are Chris and Ray?" Gene thinks out loud. Then he remembers. "Shit!" He runs out to the Quattro.
"Skip, where's DI Drake?"
"Interview room 2."
"Thanks," he practically ran there. He wanted answers. He storms in to find her crying, again. She looked up then back down again.
"Piss off, gov," she mumbles. "What do I have to do to get some peace round here?" He scowls at her.
"I got that knife dusted for prints," he says.
"What knife?" She asks, looking at him.
"The knife that cut your arms."
"What?"
"You heard. And the only prints on it were those belonging to DI Alex Drake." Her mouth falls open. "So, are you going to tell me what happened and who hurt you? Was he wearing gloves?"
She looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't give me that bollocks, I saw your arms in this very room, I even cleaned up your blood!"
She stares at him, her mouth opening then closing again as she struggled to decide what to say. "I- I don't know what you're talking about."
He sighs, scratching his head."I don't get it, Bolls. Why won't you just tell me who attacked you?"
She smiles even though her face is still soaked in tears. "Because nobody attacked me," she says calmly. "No if you'll excuse me, I've got paperwork to do." She pushes past him and out of the room. He stands there for a few minutes, staring at the door she had closed behind her.
As Gene is walking back to his office he suddenly has a terrible idea. No, he thinks, she wouldn't do that. Dozy teenagers do that, not Bolly. But as he thinks about it the idea becomes more and more believable and he is soon positive that his theory is right. He puts his head in his hands as his own memories come flooding back to him...
"Gene!" He father drunkenly shouted. He tripped over a pile of dirty clothes and split half or his brandy. "Now look what you made me do you stupid boy! Get here now you bloody idiot!"
Gene stumbled over to his father, casting a side wards glance at his unconscious brother on the sofa. He knew what was coming, but he also knew better than to run away, that would only make it worse. A small whimper escaped Gene's lips as his father's fist collided with his cheek, sending him flying across the room. He laid there on the floor clutching his bruised cheek as his father stomped over to him. He had now grabbed a full bottle of brandy and was taking huge swigs out of it.
"Bloody... useless... ugly... good-for-nothing... child..." his father slurred, kicking him furiously. Once he had finally had enough he collapsed on the sofa next to his drugged-up brother and started snoring loudly. Gene weakly got to his feet, wiping away the tears and scurrying upstairs. He got to him and his brother's shared room and slammed the door, collapsing on the floor. He felt so angry! He felt like all the anger he had towards his father was filling him up like a balloon and he was soon going to burst. Without thinking he reached for his brother's pocket knife and began to cut his legs, letting the warm blood run down them. He never wanted to stop and soon every inch of his leg was covered in blood and cuts. It felt like all the anger was flowing out of him with the blood. Eventually he stopped and dropped the pocket knife, looking down at his legs. What have I done? He thinks. Suddenly angry at himself, he picks up the knife and throws it across the room.
"Gene! Gene! What the bloody hell are you doing up there!" His father shouts from the room below. Covering his ears, Gene sobs quietly into the wall...
"Bloody hell! We'd have never figured that out on our own, would we?" He said sarcastically. She scowled at him, standing up.
"I'm going home," she said, getting her jacket.
"Not you bloody are not!" Gene shouted as she walked towards the door. "Drake! Get your bloody arse back here!" She walked out. Gene stormed off into his office, getting his coat, and followed her, fury blazing in his eyes. He follows her out of the station and down the street.
"Bolly!" He shouts after her.
"Get lost you bastard!" She screams, not even turning round. "I'm serious Gene! Piss off!"
He grabs hold of her arm, loosely so he doesn't hurt her, and spins her round. "Bolls, just- just calm down, ok?"
"No!" She screams, yanking her arm away and crying out in pain.
"Bolly! Bolls are you ok?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." But bloody was already beginning to drip out of her jacket.
"Here," he says gently, giving her a hankie. She snatches it off him and starts dabbing at the blood.
"Your arms still not healed?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. This was you, this was! Grabbing my arm like that!" Even though he knows it isn't true his stomach still turns. Oh god, what if I have hurt her? He thinks, he can't help it. She runs off, leaving him stood there like a lemon.
March 1st 1982
"This is the fifth murder Alex!" Gene shouts. She didn't shout back. She just stands there, her bony, pale face not showing the tiniest sign of emotion. "We don't have a single lead! And you, you're just sitting on your bony arse! What's up with you? You're usually the first to come up with some stupid theory! And I can't believe I'm about to say this, but you're usually bloody right!" When she didn't say anything again he lowered his voice, staring straight into her eyes. "Why can't you just tell me what's wrong? I can't remember the last time you were in Luigi's. Look at you, you're obviously not looking after yourself, I've seen more meat on a veggie's plate!"
She looked down. "Can I go now?" she says quietly.
He scowled. "Yes, go home, and don't bother coming back, you're no use to anyone," he says bitterly. She walks out of his office, shutting the door behind her. He curses himself. Why do I always say things to hurt her? Why can't I ever say something nice to her when it's obvious she's already upset about something? He sits down, lighting up and pouring himself a large scotch.
After a few hours he starts to worry about her, so gets his jacket and walks out of his office to find her.
"You don't know where Bolly has gone, do you Skip?"
"She went out for a couple of hours then came back, asked not to be disturbed," Viv replies.
"So where is she?"
"Dunno gov, went in the direction of the interview rooms we don't use anymore."
"Cheers Skip." He walks through the double doors to the unused part of the station. He looks in interview room 5. Nothing. Just a few broken chairs and the photocopier. He shuts the door behind him, smiling at the memories of last year's Christmas party. He checks interview room 6 and still doesn't find her. Where tthe bloody hell is she? He thinks, approaching the door to interview room 7. I bet she's bloody crying or something. Taking a deep breath he slowly opens the door, stepping inside.
His mouth goes dry. He blinks, his mouth open with shock. He sees the empty bottle of painkillers on the table she is standing on. The next thing he notices is the bright red blood dripping from her wrists. As he looks up to her face he sees the rope dangling from the ceiling.
"Alex."