A/n. This is a chapter that would just. Not. Go. Right. For me and therefore it is not my finest hour of writing, but please do stick with me. This story is coming to a close soon and so stay with me 'til the end! We've nearly made it!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy this rather feeble chapter.

MBRB'xoxo

This Morning. Flick. Tracy Beaker. Flick. Homes Under The Hammer. Flick. The Wright Stuff. Flick. Jeremy Kyle.

'And you never thought of telling her? It never occurred to you that perhaps your daughter had the right to know her mother is putting her life in danger on a regular basis?'

Another dramatic scene of 'real life' played out on the TV screen as Evan put the TV remote down on the arm of the chair he was in and lounged back, making himself comfortable. Jeremy was once again trying to solve the worlds problems. The caption on the screen today read 'Mum; Stop inviting killers into my home!'. All very interesting stuff. But neither Alex nor Gene were focused on the screen. Their attention was firmly fixed on the man who was completely ignoring them both. Alex slowly raised her head from its position on Genes' shoulder, her face quickly becoming void of all colour.

'Evan. Evan stop it. Stop. Look at me' there was a clear tone of panic in her voice, and her words were becoming frantic as she tried to get the attention of the man who had raised her. But Even didn't look at her. Even when Alex catapulted herself off the sofa and right next to him, her face an inch away from his and screaming at him to look at her, look at her, LOOK AT HER, he did nothing but briefly scratch the side of his face. Gene watched as the calm atmosphere was quickly shattered and was replaced with one of complete panic and confusion, and he felt that he could do nothing but watch as Alex screamed and shouted, repeatedly hitting Evans arms, pounding her fists into his biceps. But to no avail. Eventually, the fight seemed to leave her and she collapsed, her head dropped onto the arm of the seat that Evan was still sat in, oblivious to the woman who was crying her heart out next to him, painful sobs wracking her now fragile looking body. Yet Gene did nothing except watch. It was clear that Evan wasn't playing some sort of game with her; the power of her thumps on his arm could not possibly have been ignored, and the heart wrenching cries that were coming from her now would require even the hardest of hearts attention. She lifted her head and, with tears streaming down her face, looked behind her to Gene.

'Why can't he hear me? Why can't he see me Gene?' she asked softly. She seemed to have lost all the life from her and it was horrific for Gene to witness. He wanted to offer her answers. He wanted to be able to say 'Well you see, Bolls…' and tell her exactly what was going on. Fill her with answers and explanations that would end with her being able to say 'Ohh, I get it! So that's why this is happening. Okay' and be able to move on, or at the very least have her pain eased. But Gene didn't know what was happening and the only answer he could give her was an honest one; he didn't have a clue. And the look of defeat that washed over her features as her shoulders slumped once more and the tiny spark of hope that she would get an explanation was extinguished was agony. And so Gene found himself slowly moving from his position on the sofa and kneeling next to her on the floor next to Evan. With a gentle hand, he guided her head to his shoulder and then wrapped and arm tightly around her shoulders. She was so rigid in his arms. So cold and detached. But then she seemed to melt into him, her body became like that of a rag doll and she collapsed into his touch. Tears of utter confusion and frustration landed on his rumpled shirt but Gene just held her close to him, giving her soft words of reassurance. Things would be okay. She would be okay. And eventually the tears stopped and Alex pulled away from his comforting shoulder. With a glance at Evan – who had been sat there the entire time rolling his eyes and tutting at the completely messed up lives of the guests on the show – she gave a deep sigh.

'I don't get it, Gene. It doesn't make sense. It's like I don't exist. Like we don't exist' she said quietly.

'Least we got each other in limbo, Bolls, ey? Least I can see ya' he tried to make her feel a little better and got a small, half-hearted smile in return.

'Yeah' she agreed. Gene rubbed her shoulder comfortingly and then trailed his hand down her shoulder and to her hand which he slowly twined with his.

'Come on, Drake. Let's go for a walk or something' he told her as he stood up and pulled her to her feet. Staying here with a non-responsive Evan was not doing her any good and quite frankly, it was creeping him out. What the hell was going on? But he knew that he had to try and calm Bolly down before she popped her brain or something. Alex just absentmindedly nodded and kept her eyes on Evan as Gene put his hand on her waist and guided her our of the living room.

'He'll be okay' he told her, wanting to offer her some words of comfort that he could be certain were true. And they were. Because Evan would be okay. He just wasn't too sure about the woman who he had an arm wrapped around.

x-x-x-x-x-x

They ended up at the Italian place again. Without even thinking, their feet had lead them down the road and into the dimly light bar before they had even processed where they were going and before they knew it, the little man was asking them 'why you be here so early, Signore and Signora? Surly my famous pizza could wait 'til this evening?'. He quickly realised that they were not in the mood for light hearted jokes and so left them to their own devices, providing a whiskey and a glass of ice cold water and then scurrying off back to the kitchen.

'Do you wanna talk about it?' Gene asked in an attempt to fill the horrific silence and drown out the noise of the bloody awful Italian music that was playing in the background. Alex met his eyes, her fingers playing with the edge of her glass, and gave him the ghost of a smile. She wasn't sure. Did she? Did she want to talk about how the man who had treated her as his own since she was eight years old couldn't see her. She didn't think she did, actually. Not yet. Instead she replied with a question.

'Can Molly see me?' Once again, Gene wasn't sure of the answer. It certainly hadn't crossed his mind when she had been there that Molly couldn't see either of them, but then again – she hadn't really paid much attention to them. But he had just assumed that she was being a typical teenager.

'I don't know' he said honestly.

'She must be able to. I would have known if my own daughter couldn't see me'. Her eyes filled with tears again that were dangerously lose to spilling. Something Gene really didn't want to happen. He was used to Alex getting a bit over emotional, letting out a few tears and then stopping suddenly like a tap being switched off. She didn't show her emotion like this and it unnerved him that she was now.

'Come on, Bolls. Don't start crying again'. He tried to make it sound soft and caring, but his words didn't have quite the desired effect and with a half laugh/half sob, Alex let the tears overflow and slip down her cheeks.

'Sorry. God, sorry' she choked, trying to wipe away the offending tears. 'I know you can't cope with hysterical women' she laughed, still swiping at her cheeks. Gene watched her as she battled to control her emotions and was quite touched that she was trying to keep her cool for his sake, rather than collapsing onto the table in a puddle of confusion and emotion.

'We'll figure it all out. We're a team, aren't we' he said, voice strong and commanding like it always was when they had a case that they needed to solve. This was definitely a case that needed to be solved as soon as possible. Alex nodded her head, eyes slightly puffy and her lips pulled in to stop herself letting out another sob. With a final sniff to rid herself of her tears and then a sigh, Alex met Gene's eyes and tried to express how grateful she was to him without having to say anything. From his slight nod of understanding, she knew that he had and Alex reached across the table to encase his hand in hers for a second. Her thumb brushed over his knuckles softly as she silently thanked him, and then pulled away to play with the rim of her glass once more.

'So what do we do first? How are we going to figure this shitty mess out?' she asked, voice still thick. But before Gene could answer, the Italian barman interrupted. Having approached the table without the two even realising he was there, he held up a finger as an indication that he was going to now be cutting in to their conversation.

'Ern, Signore Hunt, Signora Drake. Perhaps I can help try explain a couple things. My name Luigi. You remember?' he asked, hopefully. And in a flood of realization and disbelief that they had not recognised their old friend earlier, they did.