Thanks so much for the reviews! Please keep them coming because that's what keeps me going! Remember I said I would tone down the weirdness....well I lied!!

2008

"Molly. Molly, wake up."

With a start, Molly came to, unsure at first as to where she was. The fluorescent lights above her head were blinding and she screwed up her eyes against them. She had no idea how long she had been asleep.

"Are you ok?"

When she felt able to open her eyes again, she found Evan crouched in front of her, his eyes red-rimmed, his expression seemingly even older than usual.

"Is it time to go?" she asked, her voice coming out in a rasp from sleep.

Evan nodded, "Yes scrap, it is." He straightened up and held out his hand. Molly uncurled herself from the hard plastic chair and slipped her hand into his. She allowed him to lead her down the corridor towards the hospital exit and, although he didn't say anything, she knew he was fighting to rein in his emotions.

As they passed various people hurrying back and forth, she felt her mind drawn back to the dream she had had. It had been a strange dream where she had been in a hospital, another hospital, and she had been speaking to a lady with long blonde hair. The lady had looked like one of the women from that Swedish pop group that her mum liked. They had been talking about her mum, but try as she might, she couldn't seem to get a grasp on the conversation they had had or come to any conclusion as to what the dream might have meant. It had been so real that, for a moment, she had expected to wake and find the woman right there beside her.

"Are you going to look after me?" she asked as they neared the door.

Evan paused and turned to face her, "Of course."

"It's just that…you had to look after Mum when her parents died and maybe…maybe you don't want to do it again." She felt the well of emotion start to bubble in her chest again, but she wasn't sure she had any tears left.

He crouched in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders, "Of course I want to do it again. But…your dad might have something to say about that."

Molly lowered her gaze. The last thing she wanted to do was to go and live with her dad and his new wife, the latter of whom made it clear that she didn't like having Molly around. "Don't I get a say?" she asked.

Evan drew her into a hug, "Of course you do. Whatever you want to do…that's what we'll do."

Molly drew back from him and looked back up the corridor from where they had just come. "I want to be with Mum," she said.

"I know," he said with a heavy sigh, "I wish you could be with her too." He squeezed her hand, "Come on, let's go."

1981

It was growing dark again by the time Alex was compos mentis enough to conduct a conversation. After she had regained consciousness, the doctors had kept her on the breathing tube for a few hours as she drifted in and out of sleep. Eventually, they had removed it, but her throat had been too raw to talk and she had slept fitfully on and off as the hours had ticked by, only aware enough at one point to whisper, "Gene…Meg…you can see…" before drifting off again.

Gene hadn't left her side. He sat, holding her hand in his, gently stroking her skin, willing her to be all right, aching for her to sit up and call him a lardy fascist or indeed any of the scathing insults she had thrown at him in the past. But she had slept on, her expression shifting between peacefulness and restlessness making him feel so utterly helpless.

He was torn, so utterly torn. He loved Alex with a fierce passion that he hadn't felt for years. Not since Meg, and the fact that she too was mere feet away from him, watching him, watching them, made everything so utterly complicated and confusing.

"Meg is dead," he had whispered to Alex when the other woman was out of earshot. "I know she's dead. I know it's just you and me, Bolly, but…" and it was a big but because he couldn't stop the feelings he had for Meg, didn't want to stop them in fact, and he knew that if she had let him touch her in the cemetery, ifshe had been able to let him touch her, then he would have.

At that moment, Meg reappeared at his side. He felt her presence before he saw her and he closed his eyes briefly to try and push away the sensations she caused inside him.

"Any change?" she asked quietly.

"Still asleep," he replied, watching as he moved to the opposite side of the bed and sat down. "I meant what I said earlier," he continued, "now what?" Meg shook her head and ran a hand over her eyes. "You must know summat," his tone was pleading.

She looked at him, "I don't. If I did I would tell you." He sighed and cast his eyes back down to Alex's face. "You really love 'er, don't you?"

Her question brought him up short. Having her here, if she really was here, was difficult enough, but he could bear it so long as they shied away from the topics of conversation that were deadly to all of them. And she was trying to start one of them.

"You can tell me," she persisted. "It's not as if I can do anything about the answer anyway."

"Yes," he said finally looking at her, "I love 'er."

Meg nodded, "That's good."

"Good?" he looked at her incredulously. "Aren't you…I mean…don't you feel…?"

"Jealous?" She made no indication of answering her own question. "Would there really be a point to being jealous?"

"Well…"

"Like you've said yourself, Gene, I'm not really 'ere am I?" She looked directly at him and he felt his insides turn over. "Once this is all over, I'll be gone again. At least…I think I will."

He hesitated, wanting to tell her and yet knowing it would only cause everyone more pain in the long run.

"I know," she said.

"Know what?" he asked.

"I know that you love me."

"Oh, a bloody mind reader are we now?" he retorted, looking away in embarrassment.

Meg smiled wanly, "Something like that."

At that moment, Alex stirred and Gene's attention was immediately drawn to her. "Alex?" Her eyes fluttered and she turned towards the sound of his voice.

"Gene?"

"I'm 'ere love," he reassured her, gently stroking her hair back from her face.

"I don't…"

"It's ok," he said, "don't try and talk." She opened her eyes fully and looked at him. He wanted to kiss her, but having Meg sitting across from him made him hesitate. As if sensing his unease, Alex turned her head to the other side.

Meg shot her a tight smile, "You're back then," she observed.

"I went to 1983," Alex said, pre-empting the next question and swallowing hard to wet her throat, "just like I did before."

"Before?" Gene echoed.

She nodded, turning back to look at him. "When I collapsed in the flat and again in Ted's bathroom." Alex looked back over at Meg."You knew that's what would happen?"

Meg shook her head, "No."

"But at Ted's…you told me to go into the bathroom."

"You wanted to go into the bathroom," Meg replied, "I didn't tell you to go in if you remember."

"But you said it was my journey," Alex insisted, "and I wouldn't have gone into the bathroom if you hadn't…"

"It is your journey and, subconsciously, you know where to go."

"As much as I love a good catfight…" Gene broke in, "She 'as just woken up from a coma!" He glared at Meg, angry at her and yet not sure why.

"She wasn't in a coma," Meg shot back.

"'ow the 'ell do you know?"

"Please…" Alex begged, instantly cowing Gene. "Please don't fight."

Gene and Meg glared at each other for another long moment before he looked back down at Alex. "Why would you go to 1983? What's so special about then?"

"Danny told me that…that your girlfriend had died in 1983 and that she was called Alex Drake. It had to be me."

"Danny told you?"

Alex nodded, "I went home to 2008 first. I saw Danny. He was my doctor. I told you all this days ago." She paused. "After what you're seeing now you still doubt me?"

"Course I don't," he replied as convincingly as possible, lifting her hand and kissing it.

"What 'appened in 1983, Alex?" Meg asked, sitting forward.

Alex put her head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. "It was…it was strange," she recounted after a long moment of silence. "We were there," she looked at Gene, "You, me and Sam…"

"Sam?" he broke in.

"I tried to tell you before but you didn't believe me." Her tone was quietly accusatory and Gene found his gaze forced to the floor.

"Yeah well," he sniffed, "back then I figured you were just reacting to what 'ad 'appened to you."

"And now?" she persisted.

He looked over at Meg, "Now I reckon it's either real or we're both mad."

Alex followed his gaze, "How come he can see you?"

Meg shrugged uncomfortably, "I dunno. It just 'appened in the cemetery."

"Cemetery?"

"Yeah I…eh…I went to try and talk to 'er," Gene said, casting a careless gesture in Meg's direction. "'er grave that is. Didn't expect 'er to pop out and confront me."

"Well neither did I," Meg replied acerbically. She was keen to divert conversation away from her own experiences and back to Alex's. The last thing she wanted was to let slip that she had seen Molly. "What else 'appened in 1983?"

"We were tied up," Alex continued, "in some sort of…garage or warehouse and…and you were telling Sam that I was..." she paused.

"Was what?" Gene asked.

"Nothing," she replied.

"Why did you write this?" Meg held the notepad out in front of Alex and pointed to where she had written 1983 – Vinny Richards.

"He was there. In 1983, he was there. He was behind it," Alex explained, "he was responsible for why we were tied up."

Gene looked over at Meg again, "We were investigating 'im right before we came up 'ere. I left Chris and Ray to lead a raid on 'is place God knows 'ow many days ago now."

"Gene…" Alex's eyes widened and she pushed herself up onto her elbows, "We have to stop him now. Now…here…in 1981. Maybe if we do that, he might not kill me in 1983."

"You don't know that it's 'im who…" Meg said.

"Yes I do!" she insisted, "Yes I do!" She struggled to get out of the bed, "We have to get back to London…"

"I don't think that's a good idea…" Gene said, getting to his feet. "Alex, you should…"

"Stop telling me to stay in bed!"

"Don't you think someone's going to notice if you just walk out of 'ere?" Meg said.

"Trust me…" Alex looked at Gene, "please…"

Again he found himself torn. Sense told him that she should be in bed. That the fact she was a patient in the hospital was the exact excuse he needed to make sure she stayed there. But he could also see the desperation in her eyes and knew that, as usual, he couldn't refuse her.

"Cause a distraction," Gene instructed.

It took Meg a moment to realise he was talking to her. "Sorry, what?"

"A distraction!"

"A distraction?"

"Flash your tits or summat," he said, helping Alex ease her legs over the side of the bed. "Use your imagination, Meg! You 'ave still got one even though you're dead, aven't you"

"'aven't you forgotten something?"

"What?" he snapped, his attention still focused on Alex.

"No-one else can see me, you pillock!"

At her insult, he looked at her and suddenly realised that she was right, "Oh…yeah…right." He rummaged in the locker next to Alex's bed and pulled out her clothes. "Can't you drop a few plates or summat?"

"A few plates."

"Yeah."

"Right," Meg said, "Ok." With that, she turned away from the bed, walked across the room and out into the corridor, letting the door swing silently shut behind her.

"Do you want me to…?" Gene gestured to the curtain around the bed as Alex started to untie the hospital gown she was wearing.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, is it?" she said, a small smile playing across her face despite everything.

"No, but I'm guessing you don't want the rest of the bleeding ward to see you starkers, do you?"

"Good point," she agreed.

He drew the curtain around the bed and then wandered out into the corridor to find where Meg had gone. There was no sign of her and for a moment, he wondered if she had gone for good. Perhaps it really had all been a strange dream…

The piercing squeal of the fire alarm made him suddenly jump. Momentarily stunned into silence, he stood as doctors, nurses and orderlies began hurrying out of various other wards and rooms. Pandemonium started to reign as beds began to be wheeled out of rooms and people started shouting.

"What on earth…?" he turned and saw Alex behind him, fully dressed, holding the bag containing her personal belongings, but deathly pale.

"You ok?" he asked, instinctively putting his arm around her waist.

"Yeah," she replied, leaning slightly on him. "I suppose we'd best take the stairs."

He nodded and guided her towards the staircase. Amongst the other patients, staff and visitors also making their way out of the hospital, they simply became two figures amongst many. No-one stopped them and demanded that Alex Drake be immediately returned to the Intensive Care Unit.

"Where's Meg?" Alex asked breathlessly as they reached the ground floor.

"Just concentrate on walking," he instructed her. Once out in the cool air, he steered her towards the car park and, as they neared the Quattro, saw Meg leaning against the bonnet looking pleased with herself.

"Did you set off the fire alarm?" he demanded as they came within earshot.

"Great idea wasn't it?" she replied.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure the patients are thrilled about being dragged out 'ere!" he unlocked the front passenger door and gently started to ease Alex down into the seat. Once she was safely ensconced inside, he slammed the door and turned back to Meg. "Take this." He thrust the bag at her. Meg, clearly not expecting this sudden move, reacted too slowly and the bag slipped from his fingers through hers to the ground, causing his hand to momentarily meet hers.

As though she had been burnt by a match, Meg jumped back, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Perhaps she had imagined it. Perhaps it was only fantasy that made her think that she had actually touched him, that he had actually touched her. It hadn't really happened. It couldn't have.

The look on Gene's face told a different story. He stared at her, wide-eyed, and she instantly knew that he had felt it too. Had felt her…

"I should…" she gestured to the car and consciously took the decision to walk around the bonnet of the car to the other side to avoid having to go any nearer to him that she already had been.

Gene watched as she opened the door and slipped inside the car. He suddenly realised he had been holding his breath and it came out in a slow, shaky sigh. He had imagined it. Had to have imagined it. She was not real and the sooner he remembered that, the sooner he reminded himself that she was not back in his life, the easier things would be.