A/N: Thanks if you reviewed or enjoyed the first chapter. So here we go with the second instalment. Not as long as I hoped, but I am very tired! I'll keep editing around with this a bit, I'm not at all satisfied.

Chapter Two

"Come with me. These people here, they don't need you. Dust and cobwebs will soon cover a forgotten women and a forgotten legacy. Believe me, it's true. By this time in 20 years, you'll be gone. Just some loner's faded memory. Come on, come with me, Bolls."

"Bolls?" Alex repeated in a whisper.

Someone was prodding her awake. Get off me, she wanted to murmur. Let me sleep. But her eyes felt they were being forced open and Alex awakened to a dark room. It was so dark she couldn't see her hand in front of her face, or her own body.

"Hello?!" She shrieked "What the hell is going on?!" She spread her arms out around her as far as she could, only to be met by thin air.

Alex put her hands to what she assumed was her face. It seemed like she was stuck in a...moment.

"And you can't get out of it." Alex sang. She laughed despite of herself. Oh, what was she doing, really? Doing here, in this strange place. It was like she was in limbo. Not like purgatory; she hadn't died. Not yet. She wasn't burning away her sins.

She wanted to go home. Home to her friends. Her second family. Her CID. Gene, Chris, Ray, Shaz, Viv even Luigi. She missed them all and it made her stomach ache from that bullet. That must be proof that I was shot. Alex thought. It must be, it had to be real! I mean, if I can still feel it...Oh, please. Just let me go home!

An eerie voice answered her as if replying, or just trying to infuriate and confuse her further.

"Let me dance away"

Alex shivered.

"While I'm touching tomorrow, and I know who's there when silhouettes fall."

"WHAT?!" Screamed Alex. She was sick of screaming. Both hearing it and doing it.

"And I'm gone, like I'm dancing on angels."

"And I'm gone, through a crack in the past"

Hands were wrapping around her elbows. She couldn't see them still, but she felt them.

"No, no! Get off me!" She cried out. Alex was struggling against the iron grip of whatever was holding her. The hands were joined by more hands, grabbing her wrists, upper arms, elbows and shoulders. They were laughing at her. Her desperation.

A light appeared and a little girl was standing under it like it was a spotlight and she was taking centre stage.
"Don't you want me anymore, mummy?" She asked solemnly. Alex remembered her daughter. Molly. She tried to tell her yes. All her memories of Molly were trickling away like holding water in cupped palms, melting from her mind. She forgot the time Molly took her first steps, the look of surprise on both their faces, Molly's first words, the first day at school waving goodbye as if it were forever to her mother, the first time she ever called her daughter Molly. Molly. And then, she forgot her daughters name. She knew it existed somewhere, but Alex couldn't find what she'd lost. Gone, like soldier in a never-ending battle.

The hands that were grasping her felt like they were cutting of all her power to fight, talk, think or breathe. They didn't even let her nod. The spotlight went out, only to flicker on again. It looked like a scene in 1982, familiar, yet so unfamiliar. She knew the people: her friends and co-workers from that time, even if they had not liked her. Or loved her. Alex knew where the scene was. CID. It was like watching the scene on television.

Gene Hunt sat in his office. He suspected he had about five minutes before someone arrived in the now currently deserted CID office and found him there, hiding like the common scum he hunted.

"Shit! Shit shit SHIT!" He murmured to himself, kicking a nearby rubbish bin. He wondered how things had came to this. He had shot his own DI. He had shot his Alex. Bolly. He started to palm himself in the face. He knew what he would have to do. Run. Go on the lam. But that was the last thing he felt like doing. As hard as it was to admit it, he wanted to break down and cry. He wanted to surrender. But, no. He would run. He couldn't get locked up. That would be like betraying Alex. Gene lifted his head up. He could hear footsteps coming up the corridor. Slow and cautious. The hinges of the door squeaked.

"Guv?"

It was Chris. He was walking nervously through the aisle of CID. They both met each others gaze.

"Guv." Chris whispered. Gene quickly got out of his chair and quickly marched over to the door. Chris stopped him.

"Guv, we can help." He said.

"'Think it's too late for that, Chris, don't you?" Gene replied, before taking his coat off the desk he had thrown it on. Alex's desk.

"Wait! Don't go!"

Chris watched helplessly as his DCI left. He had no idea where he would go. But he wished him the best of luck. He knew he would never shoot Alex Drake. No, Chris knew. He put his hand to his head and felt like he was welling up, grieving for what he was sure would be the loss of DI Alex Drake and his DCI Gene Hunt.

Alex whimpered to herself. She was determind not cry. She tried to speak.
"LET ME GO BACK!" She bellowed. It worked! She could talk! The hands that held her were melting away, one by one. They slid away like venomous snakes, letting her fall on the floor with a thud.

"Your wish is my command," a familiar voice whispered. Alex's eyes were being closed yet again, and she was sent to the floor one more time.