Alex awoke weeping. For one terrifying moment she had no idea where she was, only that her heart was hammering and her cheeks were wet with tears. As the maelstrom in her mind began to recede she realised she was safe in her bed, not lying in the dirt surrounded by demons. Slowly sitting up she remembered, remembered… what? The relief of knowing she wasn't the butt of a collective joke; the warmth and noise of Luigi's; the Guv, DCI Hunt, Gene… Alex had a vague impression of his arm having been around her waist as he practically carried her from the bar and upstairs. Then….swiftly checking her clothing she found herself still wearing the sweater and her panties, leggings off, socks on. Socks on? Strange. So, he'd made her comfortable, tucked her in and left like a gentleman. Alex wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be alone in the dark and reached for the bedside light. As she turned, a glint in the darkness caught her attention. She gasped. A figure, still and silent in the darkness, watching her. She panicked. Frantically, she yanked at the drawer in the cabinet, desperately searching for her gun. The lamp smashed to the floor. All reason gone, her heart rose in her throat. He had followed her. The nightmare man. He had come to finish what he started. Already she could feel his thick tongue on her neck, fingers ripping and tearing. No no no no no! Sobbing now and blind with terror, Alex knew there was nothing she could do. She felt the bed dip and arms reach for her. She opened her mouth to scream.
Gene hadn't left Alex alone in her room. Instead, he had remained in the shadows, watching over her as she slept. Although tired himself, he had kept vigil, sitting in silence, contemplating the day's events, and the previous night's. Alex Drake. She'd turned his world upside down. Shaken him from his lion's den and forced him out into the open, into the light. He knew now he could never go back. With or without her he was lost.
As she stirred in her sleep Gene narrowed his eyes. What was she dreaming of? Him? Highly unlikely, he snorted to himself. Unless she's dreaming of thumping me again. Got a good right hook on her, my Bolly. A whimper came from the bed and suddenly Alex sat upright, staring wildly around her. Gene kept perfectly still, watching as she wiped wetness from her cheeks. She remained unmoving for a moment. Was she going to go back to sleep? Instead she began to turn to switch on the light. Panicked, his eyes darted about the darkened room in a futile attempt to discover a hiding place. He heard her gasp. She was scrabbling about like a mad thing, grasping and sobbing. The lamp smashed to the floor. What was the matter with the woman? Was she still dreaming? The realisation dawned on Gene Hunt that she was scared, terrified: of him. No, not of him – of the shadowy figure she's glimpsed in her room. You stupid bloody bastard, you've scared her to death. That'll teach you to act like a perv – peeping on women whilst they're sleeping. Swiftly he rose and went to her. Once she saw it was him she'd calm down. Maybe even resist the urge to use her right hook on him again. Gene sat on the bed and reached for her. That was when she screamed.