Blah… Am bogged down with exam revision and preparation for a French speaking exam at the moment, so have been writing this chapter in a notebook with a torch under my bedcovers for twenty minutes over a few nights! I know, I'm like Harry Potter, practising his magic by moonlight… :P Anyway, thank you very much for your reviews – your lovely comments are keeping me sane amongst all the school madness! Hope you like this chapter, and please keep the feedback coming!

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Disclaimer – I don't own Ashes to Ashes… but I should bloody get the rights to it, what with all this work! It should be my reward. :D

Chapter 11

The red illuminated numbers of the digital clock on her bedside table were nothing but a bright blur, standing out against the backdrop of pure darkness. Blearily, Scarlett swiped the sleep and remnants of dried saltwater tears from around her eyes and hauled herself into a sitting position. She let out a pained groan and lifted a woozy hand to her head. Just looking at the clock hurt. The mother of all headaches was torturing her; her throat was dry, she felt dizzy – the shadows swarmed before her eyes. A heavy, jagged pulse was beating on her brain.

With another pained moan, Scarlett pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The bright red blur of the clock still hurt her eyes, but she could make out now that it was somewhere between three and four in the morning. As she went to stand up, a bout of nausea struck her like a tonne of bricks and she fell backwards again. Pain flared in the back of her dry throat and her nose hurt – as if she needed to blow it, but it was too dry, too cold.

Holding her head with one hand and using the other to feel her way, Scarlett eventually managed to stagger her way into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Her movements were jerky and lethargic, as though she couldn't quite get her brain to send the signals to her limbs properly. Her head was killing her, and through the sleepy, pained haze, Scarlett recognised the vaguely familiar symptoms of dehydration.

In the near darkness, she shakily filled a glass with water and downed it in one, spilling most of it down her clothes – creased to oblivion now they had been slept in. Filling the glass again, Scarlett let out a long sigh and drank slower this time. She drained half the glass and then sank down to the floor, the glass of water beside her, back against the bathtub, head between her knees. It felt like there were a thousand drums, all beating in her head, thrumming against her temples.

What felt like hours passed, though the light outside didn't change, so it couldn't have been that long. She continued to take sips of the cold water, getting up once to refill her glass. Eventually, slowly, after an age of dark and silence, Scarlett began to feel the dizziness subside. The world stopped spinning; the beat on her brain started to fade away. Her eyes, nose and throat felt a bit more normal again, and she could see clearer.

She could think clearer, too.

That stuff was poison; she knew that. She wasn't stupid, and she didn't have a problem. Not with drugs, anyway. Hell, she didn't even like the stuff. And she could count on one hand the times she had actually taken it.

Letting out a long sigh, Scarlett wearily dropped her head back down between her knees. It was still five times too many.

She didn't even know why she had brought some here, or why she had gone out looking for more. What had she been thinking? Anything could have happened to her. And she hated taking it – hated the way she felt so dehydrated and sluggish afterwards, the way her nose hurt and how she felt like every cell in her body was out of energy. It was a horrible feeling – one that made her feel like all the life had been sucked out of her afterwards. It just really wasn't worth the momentary fleeting numbness it brought – the feeling of weightlessness, of adrenaline and confidence.

Scarlett swallowed contemptuously and reached for the glass of water on the floor next to her.

"Fuck you, Danny," she muttered, gulping the last of it down like it was vodka.

This was all Danny's fault. She hated him. She hated his close cut hair, long arms and bitten down fingernails. Just the thought of him now made her upper lip curl in disgust. How could she ever have found him attractive? Thinking about it now, she wasn't sure she ever had… But he had offered her an escape, something to do. God knows she had been desperate for it. And if it hadn't been for him and his persuasive words, the way he used to whisper his little taunts in her ear and press the rolled up ten pound note into her hands, she'd never even have gone anywhere near cocaine.

"Come on, Scarlett, it's a party. Don't be such a fucking bore…"

"Aw, is the iccle liccle copper's daughter scared of being told off by 'er Mammy?"

"Just try it, Scarlett, 'ave a bit of fun fer once… You were alright last time yer did it, weren't yer? Yer didn't die."

Scarlett gritted her teeth as she felt the heat of angry tears building up behind her eyes. Danny was a bastard and a bully, a class A prick – she could see that now. At first it had been fun. The thrill she had got just from rebelling had almost made her feel better than the coke itself. He had shown her a new way to treat the world – had said she should screw anyone who had ever let her down, should hurt everyone that had ever hurt her. It had been riotous revenge, those past few months – Scarlett Hunt against the world. Because why should she give a damn about anyone if no-one gave a damn about her? She had wanted to hurt people, make them feel pain. She didn't want to be nice anymore. Being the sad, pathetic girl that cried all the time had never been her thing. She had been so filled with rage, wanting to destroy everyone and everything. She had distanced herself even further away from her Mum than she already had done; she saw her as weak, as stupid and selfish for letting her Dad swan off and for then marrying some other man as though it didn't matter one jot.

Danny and his friends had encouraged her, the drink and drugs empowered her. The hair dye hid her past from view. Because who had ever heard of a ginger rebel?

As Scarlett dragged herself from her thoughts and memories, she swiped at the tears spilling from her eyes. And then, she grew angry. Rage filled her up and boiled in her veins, and she clenched her fists tight.

So she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, as they always say. She had turned to violence and drink and destruction, out of desperation to feel anything but hopelessness and pain. She had so far shouted and screamed and bitched her way through high school, because she had, in some twisted way, learnt that that was how you survived. Sweet and innocent never got you anywhere. People abandoned you; they stabbed you in the back and left you for dead if they knew you wouldn't stand up to them. It was better to have no feelings at all than to have them hurt and constantly ignored.

And that was all she knew. The only coping mechanism she had was self-destruction and apathy and recklessness.

Scarlett's fists clenched tighter, nails digging into her palms as she glared down at the floor. Her arms were wrapped fiercely around her legs, like she was holding herself together, and her vision was blurred by fiery tears. She remembered why she hated her Dad so much, why she couldn't forgive him, why Alex's words didn't really make her despise him any less.

"…Your Dad is a good man… I've learnt to accept him, the good parts and the bad parts, and the good parts are... They outweigh the bad parts by a mile, Scarlett, they really do. He is a good man, I promise you. A good, kind, honest and decent man who works hard to protect people. He's just a little rough around the edges, that's all..."

She couldn't see that in him. She just… all she could see was the man who had left her and turned her into this.

Self-destruction, apathy and recklessness were all she knew, and he had taught her that. He had left her to become this. Scarlett felt more tears begin to stream down her face again as pain and anger rose up in her chest, choking her. She hated him. And that Alex woman could ply her with softly spoken words of wisdom all she wanted… But her Dad had hurt her more than she cared to even comprehend. He had abandoned her, made her feel unwanted by everyone. And she really didn't know if she could ever forgive him for that - for making her into who she was. He could feel as sorry and as guilty as he liked, but there was still no magic button that could make everything better.

Looking around the darkened bathroom with tears blurring her eyes, Scarlett swallowed bitterly and shook her head. Was this her life now? Being forced to live with someone she hated, someone she was so sure she could never forgive? What had she done in her life before this that was so wrong? What had she done to deserve this? Everything just felt so shit.

An overwhelming wave of utter, hopeless despair crashed over her and her face screwed up as the flood gates broke and the tears began to pour down her face, her body shaking rigidly. Not for the first time, Scarlett felt everything inside her falling apart, and she just didn't have the energy to look on the bright side or push her feelings aside or hold herself together anymore.

"Gene… Gene, I… Gene, wake up…"

Alex tried to shift in the position she was laid in, but there was a strong arm encircling her waist as Gene held her close to him, and one of her legs was trapped between his. She wasn't sure whether this position was through his fault or her own, or perhaps a combination of the two, but it certainly didn't give her much space to manoeuvre in. She could smell the heady scent of his aftershave, whisky and tobacco smoke from where her face had been buried against his shoulder, and her whole body felt warm where he was touching her, cradling her in his arms like she was the most precious thing on earth, as though he was scared someone was about to drag her away from him at any moment.

Pushing all thoughts of how inappropriate their positioning was considering that they were strictly just colleagues and good friends, Alex tried to shift again and felt Gene's hold on her slacken a little.

"Gene," she murmured, bringing a hand up to softly brush the hair away from his forehead. "Gene, wake up… I think I can hear something, I don't know, but… I think Scarlett's crying."

"Mhm…?"

Gene merely grunted a little in his sleep, his lips parting a little way. "Go back t' sleep, Bols," he mumbled, and the arm that was around her waist slipped down to drape loosely across her hip.

Alex, trying hard to ignore the charged tingling that was zinging in the pit of her stomach, tugged away from him a little and lifted herself up on one elbow.

"Gene, you need to wake up…" The sound of muffled sobs was more distinct now, and Alex was sure it must be Scarlett. She couldn't be the one to talk to her and comfort her this time. She was here to form a relationship with Gene, not her, at the end of the day.

"Gene," she said, louder this time as she shook his shoulder. "You need to wake up. Scarlett's crying."

His eyes opening blearily, Gene rolled away from her and slowly struggled up into a sitting position. He looked around the room, trying to gather his bearings, and Alex couldn't help but bite her lip at the sight of his rumbled shirt and mussed up hair. Who'd have known Gene was capable of looking adorably confused? She suddenly found herself thinking that she wouldn't mind seeing that bed-head hair every morning.

"Wh…what's going on?" He frowned at her. "Bloody hell, yer in my bed, Bols… Let me just take a moment t' remember this day."

With a mildly annoyed sigh, Alex rolled her eyes and sat up too. She glanced towards the door. "Gene, shut up and listen. I think I can hear Scarlett crying."

A look of seriousness immediately overtook Gene's face, and he turned his head to look intently towards the door. The two of them fell completely silent, and only the sound of distant, muffled sobs and hitched hiccups could be faintly heard.

"Bugger," Gene muttered, pushing back the covers. He was halfway out the bed when he stopped and looked back towards Alex with uncertainty on his face. "Well… what am I supposed t' do? I'm no good at comforting people, Bolly, yer know that. And I'm pretty certain she's crying because of me. She doesn't want me t' help 'er."

"Gene," Alex said softly, moving to kneel on the bed in front of where he was standing. She placed a gentle hand on his chest and gave him a small smile as she looked up at him. Her face was just visible in the near darkness, but once again, Gene found himself stunned by her breath-taking beauty, the openness, the gentleness in her eyes. If things had been different, if he didn't have a fragile fifteen year old daughter just down the hall… There was no doubt that he would be gently pushing her back down onto that bed right now…

Alex bit her lip, glancing down, and then back up again to meet his gaze. "You're her Dad, and she's crying. Forget everything she's done; forget the things she's said to you in anger. Right now, she's your little girl again, and whether she likes it or not, she needs you. And you always go where you're needed."

Gene stared at her for a moment, half in awe of how she always somehow knew the right things to say, and still half unsure of everything happening around him. After a few seconds of silence, he swallowed and gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Yer right, Bols… I'll, err… I'll go."

A faint smile touching her lips, Alex settled back on her heels and watched as Gene made his way from the room, his head peering curiously down the corridor as he moved towards the bathroom. She sat back against the pillows with her knees drawn up under her chin, teeth biting into her lower lip as she decided to just wait it out. She needed to let Gene deal with this on his own now; she couldn't be here twenty-four seven, helping him.

But it was funny… Because there was a niggling thought in the back of her mind and in the pit of her stomach that if she did have to be somewhere twenty-four seven, she wouldn't want to be anywhere but here with Gene.

Well, I hope that was okay! Thank you very much for reading, and please review! Also, if you haven't already done so, please, please vote on the poll on my profile – it's important to me. :D Thanks again, and remember, reviews are love!

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