I would like to say first how sorry I am that this has taken so long. I have a long list of excuses why it has taken so long but really there's only one reason; my laziness! Sorry it has taken so long and thank you if you're still reading this. I hope you enjoy! Italics is handwriting. On word it's all in different fonts but that doesn't show up here :(

I wake up; bleary eyed around 10 in the morning. I roll out of bed and have breakfast, then have a shower.

I change into light, loose clothes. The weather outside is hot and stifling. I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I flick through the TV channels. There is nothing on TV and I am bored stiff; Molly has been on holiday and is coming back today and it's band practice day. Basically I'm stuck at home all day. I consider going swimming but feel too lethargic.

There is a knock on the door. I check the time; about quarter past eleven, it's probably the postie. I stand up and go to the door. A man stands in our porch, wearing tight jeans, a wide collared shirt and a leather jacket; he's holding a large box in his hands. "If you could sign for this please miss." He says; his voice low. I sign it; without properly looking at his face. I give it back to him and take the box from his arms; our fingers accidentally touch, and I mutter; "Sorry." Glancing up at his face I nearly drop the box.

"Sam!"

"I was wondering if you'd ever recognise me." He laughs quietly. "May I come in?"

"Of course." I walk backwards with the cumbersome box, it's heavy and I stumble slightly. Sam rushes in and grabs the box with one hand; steadying me with the other.

"You ok?"

"Fine." I blush fiercely and put the box down in the hallway. "Would you like something to drink?"

Ten or so minutes later Sam is relaxing against the kitchen cabinets, cupping a cup of tea in his hands. I'm sitting awkwardly at the kitchen table, taking small sips of the glass of water.

"So." Sam says eventually. "Down to business?"

"Yep." I agree "What's in the box?"

"Why don't you go look?" Sam suggests. Feeling like a little child at Christmas I do as he says. Sam, swallowing the last of his tea follows me. I kneel in the hallway, opening the flaps of the box. It's full of video tapes and files.

"What are these?" The answer to the question is obvious but that isn't the answer I'm looking for.

"Tapes and files." Sam says slowly like I am a very small child. I give him a pointed look. He looks at his shoes. "They're explanations for an unhappy ending." He said eventually, his voice quiet, grating.

"There are millions of unhappy endings in the world. What's different about this one?" I ask, after a few minutes of flicking through the files at the top of the box.

"It wasn't supposed to happen."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Then try."

"It's easier to show you." Sam gestured at the box. "Have you got a video player?"

"Yes."

It the only time I have ever wished to be back in my 'depression state'. At least there I was numb; I couldn't feel the pain. I barely knew these people but what they had been through shook me to the core.

The files; the videos were all about them. Pictures of them too, the reports Keats wrote. I cry a lot that day; but not more than when Sam shows me the last video.

"Why me?" I ask through the silent tears streaming down my face, when the picture of Gene alone outside the pub fades to static. "Why did you choose me to help? I'm nothing; I'm just a kid! How can I help?" I begin to sob.

Sam looks at me; his face is so sad, like he's watching someone he loves die and he can't do anything to stop it.

"It was the only way we could save you." He said heartbreakingly softly.

"What does that mean? Sam? What does that mean?" Panic floods through me. "Sam! Sam!"

I wake up with tears on my face. The phone is ringing. I climb off the sofa, casting aside the blanket that I had been tucked under and answer it. "Hello darling."

"Hi HHjdoejiiiiiHi Mum." I say, disorientated, looking around for any signs of Sam.

"I'm on my way home now."

"Okey Dokey." I say, walking through to the hall. The box is gone, the door locked and my key on the shelf beside the front door; where it belongs.

"Could you have me a cup of tea ready? It's been a hell of a day."

No kidding.

"Course mum! See you soon."

"Thanks darling. Love you."

"Love you too." I put down the phone and run upstairs; grabbing a sports bag, my swimming costume and a towel. I run some water over the swimming costume; making it damp, then wrap it in the towel. I put it into the bag and drop it at the bottom of the stairs. I then put the water on the boil. Then I continue my search for any evidence of Sam. Two plates, a glass and a cup sit on the draining board, our lunch and his cup of tea. I hadn't washed them; he must have done. There was also the blanket he must have wrapped around me when I fell asleep. But when did I fall asleep? It was the only way we could save you. What did that mean? I think; panic flooding me again. At that moment the kettle boils and I'm distracted by making the cup of tea for my mum.

I hear the door being unlocked just as I am putting the milk away. "Hello darling." My mum gives me an absent minded smile. She looks stressed.

"Hey mum. Bad day?"

"Awful day," she moaned "my boss was being absolute slave driver. Bloody eejit." I pass her the cup of tea, arranging my face into an expression of sympathy.

"What did you do today then darling?"

I spent the day alone in the house with a man over twice my age, whom I let into the house to talk about how I could save my best friend's dead mum from eternal unhappiness.

"I went swimming, read. I'm just at a really crucial point actually!"

She laughed "Ok, point taken. Go finish your book. Lasagne ok for tea tonight?"

"Perfect!" I was already half way up the stairs. I wasn't however going to finish my book. I was going to think.

I open my bedroom door and collapse on my bed. I twist around; trying to get comfortable but something is digging into my back. I sit up and realise I've been lying on a small envelope. I open it and in there is a small USB stick and a note.

Sorry I had to leave and I'm sorry if I scared you. This memory stick has most of what I showed you today on it.

-Sam

He's sorry if he scared me? What! He bloody terrified me. Trying to ignore my anger and panic I try to think clearly. He must mean when I was in my depression I tell myself firmly and move on from the subject; ignoring the part of my brain that is screaming at me that I know that is not the explanation.

I fell back against my pillows again; feeling lost and scared. In a matter of two days my life had been tipped upside down and I was rapidly losing track of reality. I pick up the memory stick and realise there is a short inscription on there.

Don't lose yourself.

I smile and go and get out the files. I flick through them; the smile fading from my face; the tears pricking at the back of my eyes again. I barely knew these people yet my heart is breaking at the thought of Gene Hunt alone in that strange purgatory.

I love Molly, I really do. I'm glad to be back. Truly. I AM! I should be. I spent all my time there fighting to get back.

So why is it that when Alice said gene hunt and was only talking about some scientific research I felt like someone had punched a thousand staples into my insides? Why as soon as we got home did I go straight to my room so I could cry?

Why is it that I dream about him every night?

I flicked further on; two weeks after Molly had been sent away.

I hate that stupid psychiatrist. I hate her. I hate how right she thinks she is. I'm a psychologist too! I understand it all. I just don't feel like I belong anymore.

Further on.

I AM GLAD TO BE HOME!

I LOVE MOLLY!

I WANT TO STAY HERE!

Further on still.

Maybe this is the 'real world' even if it doesn't feel as real as 'his' world. But it isn't my world any more. I don't belong.

The last page. Her last entry before she fell back into her coma.

I do love Molly, truly I do and I'm honestly glad to be home.

So why do I feel devastated that I've stopped hearing Chris, Ray and Shaz's voices'?

Why do I feel so isolated and alone?

Why do I dream about him every night?

And why don't I want the dreams to stop?

And why do I think that if the dreams stopped I wouldn't be able to cope?

I plug the memory stick Sam gave me into my laptop and open it. It's mostly pictures and videos with subtitles; Sam's opinions and notes. It shows Gene going back to Alex's flat and sitting on her sofa; drinking a glass of wine and listening to the tape he danced to; then when the song finished, washing the wine glass and placing the wine bottle by the sink; empty. He picks up the bin bag from inside the bin, turns off the lights and leaves; locking the door. A quiet finality. A last goodbye. The next clip is a man crashing into CID asking for his iPhone, Gene welcoming' him in. Sam's subtitles are in indignant capitals; HE SAID THE SAME THING TO ME ON MY FIRST DAY! I laugh to myself at his indignation.

There are some other videos too and I scroll through them sadly.

When I have finished I sit there and stare at my hands until Dad comes home and mum calls me to dinner. I play monopoly with them after tea. Then I go to bed and stare at my ceiling.

I believe in God. I'm a Christian and go to church twice a month; however I don't rigidly believe everything that is preached there. I have my own beliefs. I do believe however in a God that listens to you.

"Please God. Show me a way to help them. Or help me to forget. I know things like this happen all the time; people don't get their happy endings but please. Please help them." I sigh again.

When I wake up the next morning I wonder about how I could go back to Gene and try and sort it out. What stops me from trying to get run over or shot are these things:

I might get killed

I'm not a copper so I might not go to Gene's world

If for some reason I don't go into a coma I would be in so much trouble

Once you go to Gene's world you are dead

I don't want to die, I have too much to live for

I don't want to come back and have the whole 'This world doesn't feel as real' thing

"Currently this isn't sounding like such a good idea." I mused out loud. I still wanted to help them, but how?

"God you work in mysterious ways. Please help me to know what to do, and tell me if it isn't all real and I'm actually going insane... Thanks." I roll my eyes at myself and go to make myself breakfast.

I am sitting in front of the TV and drinking up the milk I didn't drink with the actual cereal when the TV makes a funny noise, a bit like kkkrghkk. The picture flickers and suddenly instead of a rerun of Doctor Who which I was watching before there is an old pub. There is laughter and a cheerful sounding black man serving the drinks.

I frowned; wondering if I had sat on the remote, I am just about to check when I notice it on top of the TV, I frown again. Then the picture pans out, and moves over slightly.

I almost have a heart attack.

I know those faces, it's Chris, Ray, Shaz, Sam and (I assume because I've never seen her before) Annie. They look worried and are clearly discussing something, I can barely hear because of the background noise. I strained my ears for a moment and then had the bright idea of turning up the volume. This does not improve matters much, but I can now catch some of the conversation rather than none of it.

"Worried about Alex." Says Sam

"Depressed." Annie murmurs.

"Supposed to be in heaven" that was Ray. I roll my eyes at him.

"RAY!" Yells Shaz, I heard that no problem.

"Needs help." Someone says, I don't catch who.

"Unhappy" I think that was Chris

"The Guv." Says Shaz but I don't catch the rest of that sentence.

They are talking about Alex. The picture moves again and it focuses on Alex, sitting at the bar staring at a whisky glass that clearly hasn't been drunk from. Her expression is blank and her eyes are red rimmed and have bags under them. If there is anyone who looks less like they are in heaven well then I'll be damned.

Then the TV makes the same noise as before (kkkrghkk) and The Doctor stares cheerily out at me from the screen.

Ok. Ok. Ok.

Calm down.

You're fine.

At least you know you're not insane now.

Probably.

You're fine, you're good, you're ok.

No I'm not.

.

Ok so now I'm fine.

"Thanks God, I assume that was your sign proving I'm not insane. However I'm also assuming you want me to do something. Show me what to do, and please, can it not involve me dying? Because I want to live, and I want to stay here and be happy."

I call Molly and Will up and ask if we can go see a film. They agree, and I am glad because I know full well I will probably go mad if I am forced to stay at home alone all day just mulling over this morning.

I found myself able to act totally normal around Molly, which surprised me slightly and, even more surprisingly I don't feel guilty and for the 6 hours we spent together I felt normal again.

This lasts until we are walking home. I am standing on the pavement outside Will's house as he searches through his pockets looking for his keys when someone drives into me. They were reversing and got the angle wrong or something. It knocks me over and I hit my head on the kerb. I could hear Will yelling at the man. The man was apologising and Molly was fussing over me. I opened my eyes to tell them I'm fine.

Except when I open my eyes I don't see Will and Molly and a late afternoon sky.

Dramatic music! :) I hope you enjoyed and a review would hugely appreciated. I'll post very soon. Hopefully ;)