A word to old readers...and new...if there are any, lol: I deleted the old chapters of this story, (besides the first one) because I recall writing it, hating where it was going, being overemotional, and giving up because I had posted too much to change anything. I've always wanted to go back and fix it because I felt like it had such potential (and I LOVE the first chapter), but I never have. For reasons I won't get into, I've been afraid of writing for years, but planning a wedding was stressful enough that it made me want to write something out. Writing was how I coped with stress in college, and now I've started, I remember why I loved it so much. (Also, yes, we WERE able to get married! 7 days later came the first group size restriction) So, in these absolutely unprecedented times, I turned to my nostalgia, and I hope you enjoy it. Sorry my writing isn't quite up to what it used to be, like I said, I haven't written since 2014 and I'm working on finding my voice again.

Gene stared at the woman lying motionless in the hospital bed. She definitely looked worse for wear, with bright purple and black bruises covering her face and the definite lines of skin rubbed raw from the restraints she had been wearing. The doctors had told him that if he had found her just a few hours later, they wouldn't have been able to save her life. They had said her blood pressure was too low, and because of that her organs had started to shut down..

Alex was still listed in serious condition, but as each hour ticked by, her body seemed to be balancing out from her near death experience. It may have just been his imagination, but Gene thought that her colour was starting to return as well. Her cheeks seemed more pink than they had only a few hours earlier. Surely that wasn't just his imagination.

Alex stirred, her lips smacking lightly together and a finger on one hand moved a few centimetres. Gene only barely noticed. She had been moving here and there for hours, but it never amounted to anything. She was still too weak to wake up.

He thanked the God that he didn't believe in that he had found her. When Alex's warrant card had been found next to a dead body, the whole of CID had thought she would probably be dead as well. Every day that she hadn't turned up afterward solidified that thought in their minds.

Not that Gene hadn't been looking for her. When her warrant card was found and traces of her blood type were found on the scene, Gene sent all of CID out looking. Searching her desk for any clues to what she was doing before she left the office that day only showed her most current case, her gun, and her radio. She wouldn't have left without any of that if she had planned on being gone for more than a few minutes. Even if she had left for the night, she would have taken her gun.

It was at that moment that he realized that he would need to ring the Super. Gene knew exactly what would happen then. He would be forced to hand over the case to another station. Once the case was handed over, they weren't allowed to look for her.

Just as he expected, all files were handed over to their neighboring division and he was warned away from the case. Of course, that hadn't stopped Gene from working late at night, not officially recording his time. Skelton and Carling had joined in as well. Even Shaz had put in several hours into an overnight, all of them looking for any signs of the Ma'am, but all of their searches had been fruitless.

That was, however, until they received a call from the Chief Super to investigate a boat that had turned up on Fenchurch's patch. It was a waste of time, a job that would have better been served to Uniform, but apparently CID wasn't busy enough, so the Super insisted that they take it.

Gene had complained all the way to the boat. It was wasting time that he could unofficially be using to look for Alex. But then, to everyone's utmost surprise, there she was. Handcuffed, blinded, gagged and left for dead on a boat he could only assume was not supposed to make landfall for a while longer. She was most of the way gone by the time they had found her. After removing her blindfold, he had noticed how glazed and unfocused her eyes had been, and then when he had said her name, she had asked him who Alex was.

Gene told himself that she was so close to death by that point, it was acceptable that she had asked that. However, he couldn't quite get the uncertainty out of his head. Gene hoped she would wake up soon, memory intact to reassure him that she was okay.

She moved again in her sleep, but this time, the movement seemed more pronounced. He noticed that her eyelids were moving, as though she was trying to will herself to wake up. A few moments later, he noticed a flash of hazel appear before disappearing underneath her eyelids once more. A few more moments, and her eyes stayed open for longer. Finally, after several minutes, they stayed open, looking around the stark hospital room in confusion.

"You're awake," Gene said quietly, relief flowing through him.

Alex jumped at the sound of his voice and looked over at him, looking almost terrified. "Am I dead?" she whispered.

"Not unless I'm Saint Peter," he responded, instantly being reminded of Dr. Death. "I find that highly unlikely, don't you?"

Instead of a small smile, instead of relief showing, Alex just looked at him uncertainly. "I'm not sure," she said in a hoarse, quiet voice. "Have I met you before?"

Gene's stomach dropped. "Have you met me before," he said, stating the words as if to digest them, instead of asking her back.

Alex nodded. "Do I know you?" she asked. Her voice was small, the hoarseness making it almost a whisper.

Gene frowned. "Of course you know me, Bolly, I'm your boss."

"And my name is 'Bolly'?"

Gene frowned, his concern growing. "No, that's the nickname I gave you. Your real name is Alex Drake. You're a DI for the Metropolitan Police."

Something crossed Alex's face then. Uncertainty mixed with fear and anger flashed in front of him before her face settled on anger. "I don't think I am," she stated, her voice careful. "I think you must have mistaken me for someone else."

Gene shook his head, concerned, debating about whether to find a doctor. "I've worked with you for years, Alex. I won't have mistaken you."

She shook her head. "My name is not Alex. I am certain of that. If you can't understand that then you can get out."

Gene felt a flare of anger, but took a deep breath, calming himself before speaking again. "Okay then, what is your name?"

Alex stared at him, her face a mask of irritation. "I don't know."

"You don't know."

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember? Do you know what happened to you?" Gene asked, really debating about going to get someone on staff.

Alex cocked her head. "What do you mean, do I know what happened to me? What happened?"

Gene frowned, incredulous. "Alex, you were missing for five days and found nearly dead handcuffed to a pole on a boat. You had a bullet in your shoulder for the love of God."

Alex stared down at her shoulder and then looked at her wrists. Her face was haunted for a moment before turning dark and angry. "My name isn't Alex, and nothing happened to me. Get out, before I force you out."

Although he wasn't usually one to give up, Gene stood and left the room. He was burning with anger at how she acted, but let concern be his primary emotion. If there was something wrong, she needed to get help.

He found her nurse quickly and told her of the discussion they just had. The nurse frowned, looking concerned, talking about paging the doctor. "I don't think I'm allowed back in there," Gene said. "I'm going to wait in the waiting room for the doctor."

"Based on what you said, that may be the best idea, Mr. Hunt," the nurse replied. "We don't want Ms. Drake getting too worked up in her condition."

Gene merely nodded, going to the canteen for tea and then walking back to the waiting room. How could Alex not know what had happened to her? She had only been missing for five days. How could she have forgotten everything about who she was in that time? Her attitude was still there, but nothing else was. Was it actually amnesia? Gene scoffed. Amnesia was stupid, something for books and shows on the telly to increase drama. It never actually happened in real life, did it?

At that moment, a doctor came into the waiting room. "Mr. Hunt?" he asked, his voice as posh as Alex's. Gene raised his head in acknowledgement. The doctor walked over to him and sat down.

"From the bruising and the fracture of the skull, we know that Ms. Drake had some considerable trauma to the head. My guess is that she has received a concussion, and with it, is experiencing some memory loss."

"But what about the flat refusal of who she is?"

"I'm not sure about that. It may just be the concussion causing confusion. It could be that she saw something that she feels she needs to forget. Until we are able to determine what exactly happened to her, we may not be able to figure out her state of mind."

"So then, what do I do with her? Is she able to function on her own? Or does she need someone to mind her?"

"It'll be several days before we need to worry about that. Her condition is serious enough that we are going to want to keep an eye on her blood levels to ensure that she is staying out of organ failure. As she heals here, her brain will continue to heal. We'll keep her on concussion protocol to make sure that it heals at the pace it should. If her memories don't start returning to her by then, I will be more concerned."

Gene nodded. "What do I do until then? What do I even call her? She's refusing the fact that she's Alex."

"Try her surname. If that doesn't work, then try a different name."

"What kind of different name? Should I just ask her if she wants to be called Victoria or something?"

"Did she ever use her middle name?" the doctor asked. "A middle name would be familiar for her brain, but not familiar enough that she should get the disgust she feels for Alex."

Gene shook his head. "She's never used it. I'm not even certain what it is."

The doctor looked at her chart in his hand. "Margaret, it looks like. Ask her if she wants to try the name Margaret."

Gene nodded as the doctor walked off, willing to try, but silently he was annoyed. If she decided that she liked the name Margaret, how the hell was he supposed to remember to call her that? Alex wasn't a Margaret, or a Maggie or anything of that sort. She was an Alex. She was strong willed, mouthy to an extreme and constantly into something she shouldn't be. That was an Alex attitude. Not a Margaret one.

Sighing heavily, Gene stood, walking back to Alex's room. She had fallen asleep in the time it had taken to talk to the doctor, but he was unsurprised. She hadn't recovered from whatever it was she went through. He expected her to be sleeping more than not for the next several days. Even though her colour was returning, to Gene, she still looked very fragile. Her brown hair fanned underneath her head onto the white pillow, creating a stark contrast. The bruises were bright on her face, but the swelling he had originally seen on her eyebrow was going down.

Not for the first time, Gene wondered what in the hell had happened to her. He was extremely frustrated. Nothing was working in his favour. He wasn't technically allowed on this case, and even if he had been, the lead witness was absolute crap. He had checked and the boat was a complete dead end. The registration pulled up a man who had been dead for three years. He knew that someone had to be keeping it safe to ride in the water, but apparently it was bad enough that no one would miss it if it was gone. The only thing that they really had to go on was the size of the bullet in Alex's shoulder, which was nothing either. Basically, until her memory improved, the case was cold. And Gene hated that.