Hi, sorry this has taken a while getting to you. As you most of you probably know or have guessed – it's exam time at the moment, so I'm a bit bogged down with revision and such, but I managed to get this written and posted! Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :D

X =D

Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes...just a shit load of revision notes!

Chapter Six - Psychologist

Sunday, 10th August, 2008

"But you did, you did! You left me here with him. You didn't come back; you just went to sleep and never woke up!"

Molly was thrashing under the covers, her legs kicking out, arms flailing as she tossed and turned in bed, her eyes tightly shut again. "You broke your promise, you didn't come back!" She was screaming, sobbing desperately in her sleep as the covers wound tightly around her legs and she kept thrashing, her movements jerky and violent. "You just left and never came back to blow out the candles with me!"

"Pete?" Judy shifted towards him, pulling the duvet off slightly. "Pete? I think Molly's..." She trailed off and glanced towards the door as the sound of muffled, hysteric cries carried through once more. "Pete," she said again, louder this time. "Wake up."

He stirred slightly. "Mhm?"

"Pete," Judy said, shaking him slightly. "Molly's shouting, I think... Screaming."

"Wh-what?" Pete sat up in the bed now, rubbing his eyes blearily and running a hand through his hair. Then Molly's voice rang out again, louder and more panicked this time. With a sigh, Pete wearily pushed back the duvet and got out of bed.

"Molly? Molly?" Pete peered hesitantly around the door before stepping fully into the room, a little apprehensive. His eyes were fixed on his daughter as she thrashed in the bed, covers and hair in disarray, one pillow thrown to the floor.

"You left me!" Molly cried, her eyes still closed in fitful sleep as she sobbed and continued to toss and turn, unable to shake whatever demons were still in her mind, interrupting her sleep. "You left me with Dad. You hate Dad, and you let them send me to him! You didn't come back!"

Pete watched, his face shocked and eyes wide in alarm as Molly screamed herself hoarse. He had no idea how she could still be asleep; how could she not hear her own hellish wailing, her own loud, distraught voice? Her screams were ear-splitting, wracked with grief and anger and they shook him to the core.

"Molly, wake up. It's just a dream, Molls-Molly, sorry..." He crossed over to her bedside, then recoiled slightly when she kicked a leg out in his direction. "Molly... Molly!" Taking a deep, frustrated breath, Pete lunged forwards and grabbed her flailing arms, managing somehow to still her. "Molly, wake up!"

Her eyes flew open once more and she gasped, her gaze darting about the room as though looking for an invisible threat. "Mum," she breathed, her forehead coated in cold sweat. Her hair was a tangled mess about her face as she inhaled and exhaled heavily, hot, sticky tears still streaming down her face.

"Mum's gone, Molly, she's gone," Pete said softly, tentatively releasing his grip on her arms. He moved back to just sit on the edge of the bed, but kept a loose, uncertain grip on her hand. "It was just a dream, Molly. Whatever it was, it was just a dream."

For a few moments, there was nothing but the panic and alarm that still lingered behind the look of concern in Pete's eyes, and the sound of Molly's heavy breathing as she steadily woke up and slipped back into the land of the living.

"B-but...It feels real, like she's there, like I'm there... Like he's there." She took deep gulps of oxygen and stared up at her Dad with a mixed look of shock, desperation and sadness in her eyes. "It's like she's still alive," she told him, her voice almost disturbingly quiet and gentle all of a sudden. Gone was the anger and frustration from her face, vanished were the devastated cries, the streaming tears and hysteric sobs. Molly's face was suddenly very calm and collected, her expression almost reverent as she said, her quiet voice full of wonder, "It's like this whole world where Mum's still alive, and it feels so real, when I'm there... Even when he's there..."

Pete didn't know what to say at first. He just sat there, staring at his daughter and trying not to let the alarm show on his face. Her voice sounded faraway, wondrous and contemplative, almost like she was someone who had seen the light for the first time, or finally experienced true love. And it worried him. It worried him because it sounded like she believed in this 'world', where her Mum was still alive. He heard a movement behind him and turned his head to see Judy in the doorway, one hand holding the door as if wondering whether or not to come in. Her expression seemed to mirror his, and Pete watched as her concerned gaze moved from his face, to Molly, and back to him again.

"Molly," Judy said gently, slowly making her way into the room and across to Molly's bedside. "What do you mean?"

Molly either ignored, or didn't hear her. She was looking down now, avoiding their worried gazes, her expression one of deep thought.

"Molly," Pete reached out for her hand again, holding it loosely. "Molly, your Mum's dead, you know that."

Without looking up, Molly yanked her hand away from his in one vicious movement, a low hiss escaping her lips. "I know." She lifted her eyes very briefly to glare at her Dad. "But there, it's like she's not."

"Like she's not dead?" Judy asked cautiously.

Molly gave a small nod. "Like she's alive again... She's different, not how I remember... But she's alive there."

Pete looked up, and he and Judy exchanged worried glances before both turning their attention back to Molly.

Pete spoke softly, almost as though he was afraid of being too loud, of disturbing his daughter's fragile mood, of breaking the tense atmosphere that had suddenly descended on the three of them. "Molly," he said, though she still refused to look up at him, "How about you go back to sleep now, it's one o'clock in the morning. And we'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?"

Thursday, 14th August, 2008

The walls were all plain. The only decorative thing Molly could see in the waiting room was a fake pot plant, stood miserably in one corner, the light reflecting off the waxy surface of its plastic leaves. Since Sunday, Molly had experienced more dreams about her Mum, and the weird, retro world she had constructed around her. Images flashed before her eyes now, as she sat back on a leather couch, ignoring her Dad and Judy, both tense beside her.

Her Mum, in a black corset, 'sexy' dancing with the moustached man who had made the sexist jokes before. Her Mum talking to a young, scared-looking black girl, concern in her eyes and on her face. Her Mum arguing with the man – Hunt, something about an entire rugby team... And then there was her Mum's face again, wide-eyes full of promise as she swore to come back, as she promised that she'd come home. Her words still rung in Molly's ears as she held them tight, wishing to every God and deity that they could be true, that her Mum could still come back to her. Even though, deep down, she knew her Mum was never coming back, just as Zippy had said.

A polite voice broke through her thoughts.

"Dr Tyler is ready to see you now."

Molly was still in a haze, her mind still preoccupied as she, her Dad and Judy were led down a small, carpeted corridor to a room, with another couch and sad looking pot plant outside the door. They stopped there, and Molly looked up at her Dad, her eyes hard.

Giving her a small, hopefully reassuring smile, Pete nodded towards the door. "You go in there, Molly, it won't be for long, and me and Judy will wait out here."

Scowling at him, Molly turned to walk through the door the receptionist had opened for her. The young, smart looking woman gave her a smile, and Molly glared at her in return. Did they all think she was stupid? Did they think she didn't know where she was, where they had brought her? This was where people took the mental kids, the messed up ones who didn't have any control over what they were saying or doing. The ones who were wrong in the head, who had a screw loose, who were a few flakes short of a snowball, as her Mum used to say. Molly could feel the anger rising up inside her as she walked into the counselling room, her fists clenching by her sides. She wasn't insane, or 'distracted by grief' either, like she had heard Judy say a few nights before. The dreams were real, or at least, they felt that way.

Dr Tyler was a woman in her early sixties, with curly, greying hair that had once been a glossy mahogany colour and a friendly smile on her face. She stepped forward towards Molly with her hand outstretched. "Hi, Molly," she said, smiling. Molly had thought that Dr Tyler would have made her feel even more angry than her Dad and Judy's blatant patronising, but surprisingly, this woman's easy smile and kind eyes seemed to set her at ease, strangely.

Molly shook her hand briefly, still not feeling completely comfortable. The anger still churned in the pit of her stomach; there was no reason for her to see a psychologist. She wasn't going mad, or senile. However, Dr Tyler seemed to sense her frustration and wariness and smiled warmly, dropping her hand. "I know they call me Dr Tyler, but you can call me Annie."

Sorry this chapter is a little short, but I thought that was a good place to leave it on. So...any of you see that coming? :D As always, thanks for reading and reviews are more than welcome!

X =D