"Shaz?"

The 'man' who had just entered the room stopped dead a foot away from the bed, eyes wide with shock, her glossy, grey-streaked hair swinging into her eyes. Gene grasped the bars of the bed, studying her face intently, his heart banging in his throat with each similarity: the curve of the plump lips, the thick dark eyelashes, the chocolate irises sparkling with humour and vigour…

"Nobody's called me Shaz for years, not since I was a PC," Shaz said, and although her voice was aged and slightly deeper it was unmistakeably Shaz's gentle tones, the Billericay accent shining through and giving Gene a bizarre urge to cry. "Did you know me then, sir? You couldn't 'ave, I've never been to Manchester, an' besides, you're in yer thirties an' I'm the wrong side of fifty now."

The wrong side of fifty. I knew yer when you were in yer twenties. Wait… if Shaz is 'ere…

"Look, luv, this might sound a bit of a stupid question, but before we begin, did yer ever go out with a bloke named Chris? In the Eighties? Blond 'ighlights, bit of a div?"

Shaz frowned, sliding into the seat Anne drew out for her.

"Mr Hunt, Chris is my 'usband. We got married in 1984."

"Oh."

Looks like yer 'eld onter Shaz then, Chris. Nice one.

Wait… if she's married Chris…

"Bloody 'ell!"

"Mr Hunt?"

"So you exist… and Chris exists… what about Ray? Yer remember Ray? Know 'im? Yer DS back in 1981?

Shaz was beginning to look quite disturbed now, the line between her eyebrows deepening; Anne moved forwards, shaking Gene's arm gently.

"Gene, what are you-"

"I told yer, I told yer it was real!" Gene announced triumphantly, shaking Anne off impatiently, one finger pointed at Shaz as everyone else in the room stared at him like he'd just grown a second head. "Shaz is real, Chris is real, Ray is real, Bolly is real- 'oo was yer DCI in 1981, Shaz? D'yer remember 'im?"

"Yeah," Shaz said, scooting back a little in her chair. "DCI Garrett. 'E was our DCI up until 1990."

Gene's hand dropped onto the duvet, unheeded, as he stared at Shaz, jaw slack.

"But… but…"

"Gene," Dr Simmonds said gently, gently placing his hand on Gene's forearm, tightening his grip as Gene turned his head slowly to look at him, looking like a man whose world was crumbling around him. "You see? It wasn't real. It was just a dream."

Anne moved forwards to pull her friend into a hug, rubbing his back gently, but Gene remained staring sightlessly over the other side of the room, oblivious to Max's squirming by his hip, Dr Simmonds' and Shaz's quiet conferring as they moved away from the bed and towards the door. He let them. He didn't want to see Shaz again for a long time, as long as possible, and yet he didn't know why, when she was the last tenuous link to whatever past he might have had in the 80s.

"I've got to take Max home, Gene. Are you going to be OK on your own?"

"The nurses'll be able to peek in on Gene, Ms Wilkinson. You head on home."

"Thanks. Behave, Gene, and I'll be back this evening, yeah? Please don't do anything stupid."

Far too late.

"What d'you reckon, ma'am?"

"Well, to be honest, Shaz, if Galloway was responsible for the robbery, he'd have been incredibly stupid to have left his trademark lying around for any copper to stumble over, wouldn't he? Especially as it was his brother who reported it to the police. It doesn't fit his MO, especially as he was clever enough to go to uni… No, I think this is either a copycat crime or someone trying to frame Galloway for wronging them somehow… any enemies?"

This, Alex thought as Shaz nodded and sped off to locate the long list of people who disliked Tony Galloway, was what was going to keep her alive if she was dying in her world. Police work, real police work, the kind that Gene would be proud of, interviewing snouts and gathering databases and storming off to make arrests with Ray and Chris at her side, a well-oiled and efficient team under her leadership, perhaps more so than under Gene's, she thought. But then, the team may have been efficient, but what it wasn't was happy.

Not without their Guv.

Ray had said something about seeing Gene last night in the pub, after Alex had plied him with beers to make up for breaking his toe with her stiletto heel arresting Sean Thomas the day before; it hadn't made much sense, but from what she'd gathered, Gene had appeared in Ray's lounge and vanished as soon as he'd said Ray's name. In two minds over whether to believe him, Alex had eventually told him it was a dream and sent him home in a taxi, wondering all the while whether Gene had found his way back to this world just for a split second, had somehow crossed the gap between them whilst maintaining his life in the other world. Sam hadn't managed it, she hadn't managed it… so what had happened with him?

It could, of course, have been an alcohol-sodden dream, brought on by grief and loneliness and thus creating a hint of companionship for Ray after the loss of his Guv. She'd done the same thing often enough after her parents' death, running downstairs to tell Evan that she'd seen Mummy and Daddy in the spare bedroom and each time receiving the same sad smile as he bent to her height and gently told her that Mummy and Daddy were gone, and that she was seeing things, and that it was sad but they just had to move on with life and she would be much better at doing that if she stopped seeing her parents around the house. She couldn't really remember when it'd stopped, but supposed she'd simply grown out of it at some point. Ray was certainly immature enough, she thought with a smirk as the tail-lights of the taxi disappeared out of view, leaving her standing cold and alone outside Luigi's as thunder rumbled nearby and the mutter of music and laughter behind her continued, steady and strangely reassuring. Only a week ago she'd found him doodling willies on a mugging victim's statement, and had had to spend a good twenty minutes rubbing them all out. Ray had been on tea duty for three days before she'd forgiven him.

Raising her face to the sky, Alex let herself lean against the lamp-post outside Luigi's, idly tracing patterns on the metal as the first raindrop fell onto her face. Gene was out there somewhere, she was sure of it. Gene and Molly were out there and together, and she would never give up hope of finding them, could never, because without her Gene would not cope and Molly would grow up motherless, the cycle continuing, and entirely her fault.

She was stumbling in the dark, yes, but there had to be something, some hint that she could hone in on and decide that it was the way home. She could enjoy her time here, by all means- she'd never return to the 80s, hopefully, so she wanted to make the most of it- but that could not affect her mission.

"You there, Gene?" she whispered to the heavens, staring up at the smattering of stars she could see through the sodium lighting, eyes flitting from one to another as a dark cloud crawled past. "Molly? Don't give up on me. Don't ever give up on me. I'm thinking of you both, you know that, I'm always thinking of you. I love you, and I won't ever forget you, not for a single tiny mome-"

What Alex Drake would have said was obliterated by the rod of lightning that smashed into the lamp-post, and the burst of light and pain behind her eyes as her body seized and flamed.

For a split second, the entire sky was strewn with stars, thick with glittering pinpricks of light as Alex's scream echoed along the deserted road, melting away along with the last echoes of her voice.

"You shouldn't be here," Molly Drake muttered as she helped Gene through the door and into her mother's bedroom, pulling a chair out for him and pursing her lips moodily as he collapsed into it, drawing his dressing gown tighter round himself. "The doctor'll crucify me for it."

"Then you tell 'im it was all my idea, Molls love. Come on, come an' chat ter yer mum, I'm sure she's gettin' lonely in there."

"You've got the only chair. And my feet are sore from PE. Can I sit on your lap? It's not like you're a stranger, Mum wouldn't yell at me for it, she knows you and we're surrounded by doctors and you're not like that, I know because I know you properly as well-"

"Molls, you know I'm not a ruddy stranger. Come on, I'm yer mum's friend, I'd never do anythin' like that. 'Ave a seat an' let's see if yer mum'll open 'er eyes fer us today. Beginnin' ter forget which colour they are, yer know, 'aven't seen 'em in such a long time. What colour are they, Molls?"

Molly smiled to herself, easing down onto Gene's lap as he brushed the gown's belt out of the way and patted his thigh in invitation.

"They're green. With hazel flecks, and when she wears her chocolate cardigan you can see all of them like they're lit up. I bought her that cardigan."

"This one?" Gene reached over to the bedside table and picked up the soft cashmere cardigan draped over it, unfolding it and holding it out in front of himself as Molly nodded, snuggling carefully back into him.

"It was her Christmas present. D'you like it?"

"It's lovely, Molls. I think I remember 'er wearin' it a few times… yer mum suits everything though, doesn't she? Very pretty, classy woman, an' she'd never let me forget it."

"She is. All the other girls at school are jealous because their mums are ancient and mine's so young and pretty. One of my friends' mums was forty-five when she had her children. Mum was much younger than that, she was twenty-three."

"Depends on the person though, doesn't it? Depends when yer want children, when yer meet the right person… it's a risky thing, 'avin' children, an' not everyone's ready fer it as early as your mum was. All these girls yer 'ear about nowadays, 'avin' babies when they're not much older than you, they're little more than children themselves, don't know 'ow ter cope with a child. So then their kids grow up like that, without proper families, an' become teenage parents themselves… it's difficult, Molls. But your mum's a strong woman, always 'as been, she knew exactly when she could cope with 'avin' a kid an' she's brought you up well."

He caught a flash of a slightly tearful smile before Molly was staring back at her mother again, clinging onto his pyjamas with both hands like a young child. Just for a second, he had a flash of young Donny back in 1982 doing the same thing, all but asleep as he carried him into the police station and sat him down in an interview room with a slice of his birthday cake and a scotch tumbler full of pop, gently coaxing details of the evening before from him as Alex held onto Donny's little fingers with one hand and stroked his wrist with the other.

"I wish she was strong enough to wake up," Molly said softly, trying not to let her bottom lip tremble and failing. "It's been nearly a month now… I promised Mum that by my next birthday, she'd be awake. I promised her."

There was a long, silent moment, Gene bowing his head wordlessly until his nose brushed Molly's mousy blonde hair, his eyes fixed on Alex's closed ones as Molly wiped a single tear away.

"Molls, it's always 'ard ter judge these things, isn't it? If yer mum's got anythin' ter do with it, I'm sure she'll be awake as soon as possible, but it was a bad injury, an' it might well be better fer 'er ter stay asleep, just fer now. Might 'elp 'er fer when she does wake up."

Molly sniffed, turning her face to wipe her cheek on Gene's shoulder; one strong arm wrapped itself round her back, rubbing gently, and she squeezed his waist, gazing up at him through teary eyes almost eerily similar to his.

"Why couldn't my dad be like you? You're nice, and you make time for me, and you talk with me and joke and things, and you really, really love my mum. My dad just walked out on us, he didn't care about us, he never tried to come and see me and he never sent me birthday presents even when he still lived in England. You're not going to run off and break my mum's heart too, are you, Gene?"

"No, Molls love. I'd never do that, you 'ave my word. Your mum's too special ter be treated like that again, an' the- d'yer think she'd mind me swearin'?"

"Mum swears like a trooper when we're at home. Says it's cathartic, but she won't let me do it. I like swearing, it feels good when you're really angry."

"Well, I'll keep goin', then. Any tosser stupid enough ter treat yer mum as anythin' less than the amazin' woman that she is, doesn't deserve ter spend any time with 'er at all. It's not your loss that yer dad walked out on you, Molls, it's 'is loss through an' through. An' it's a shame that it's hurt you too, an' that just makes 'im even more of a tosser than 'e already was, but you use it ter make yerself stronger, eh? That's what yer mum would want."

Molly nodded jerkily, wriggling around until her head rested in the crook of his neck.

"What bad things have happened to you, Gene, to make you so strong?"

"Eh?"

Surprised, Gene eased back a little to crane down at Molly, eyebrows pursed; Molly smiled up at him, wiping a tear track off her cheek with the back of her hand.

"You're really strong. Everyone says so, the doctors, Anne, Max, I bet my mum would say so as well. And when your mum came to visit you… I don't know, Gene, but when she was talking to you, she kept crying. I thought you were talking about sad things that had happened to you."

"Well. That an' 'er son 'ad been stabbed. But… some shit things 'ave 'appened to me. 'S not that interestin', Molls."

"Yes, it is. I like hearing about other people, and if Mum likes you, then I'm going to be seeing lots of you, aren't I? I want to get to know you and stuff. But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine too…"

"No, 's… it's fine. Well… my dad was a bit like yours, Molls. Would've sold me ter the devil if there was a drink in it. Didn't give a shit about us, just used ter knock 'us about soon as 'e came home, told us that we 'ad ter be men an' take it 'cos otherwise our mam was next on the list. An' then 'e just 'it 'er anyway, didn't care about 'ow much we took it, an' I never found out or understood why, but I just think 'e was a sick, 'ate-filled man 'oo drank 'imself ter death an' never wanted ter be 'elped."

"That's horrible," Molly said softly, nestling back into Gene's chest; he nodded wordlessly, gently shifting her to the side.

"I always wanted ter be a dad, yer know. I said all sorts about it, claimed I'd never want a little Gene Hunt runnin' around, but… I think I know differently now. Maybe it was just that I 'adn't found the right woman. It nearly 'appened, a long time ago, but she lost it after a couple of months. Never felt right, even when the baby was alive, an' me mam was naggin' me rotten about makin' an honest woman of 'er before the baby came, but no. Would've been 'ell. Was probably just as well she miscarried, I don't know if it would've been happy."

"Were you disappointed?"

"Yeah. S'pose I was. Was the final straw in our relationship, certainly, she was over the moon about it, kept sayin' somethin' must 'ave worked. I don't know if she ever did try ter miscarry, but I wouldn't 'ave put it past 'er. Do me an' the world a favour, Molls, an' never grow up ter be a bitch like 'er."

"What was she called?"

"I never found out 'er real name. She called 'erself Shug."

"Shug? What's that?"

"Was from a novel or somethin', she said. I never looked any further."

"If she killed your baby on purpose… Gene, that's evil."

"It's a screwed-up world, Molls. An' there are screwed-up people in it. Yer'll learn that, an' I wish yer didn't 'ave ter, but if yer stick with the people who love yer, love yer fer real, then yer should be alright."

"My mum told me that… the morning she…"

"Well, she was right, your mum. As bloody usual." Gene chuckled to himself, stretching his tingling leg out slightly and sucking his breath in. "Molls- Molls, me leg's goin' ter sleep, just stand up fer me- thanks, love. I'm OK, just a bit of-"

"Well, aren't you all familiar?"

And suddenly it wasn't only Gene's leg that was tingling.

He could hardly bear to look up, had to force his muscles to work, in case it was just another cruel trick played on him by his mind. In case all he would see would be the shell of the only woman who'd loved him for who he was, comatose and unreachable, her pale face unsmiling, the elegant hands he'd never be able to get enough of limp and lifeless.

But Molly's scream told him otherwise.

And he could barely breathe, choking on nothing as he pushed himself up from the chair and stumbled to the bed, pain and weakness forgotten in his need to get closer to her, to believe that she was back, it was real. Alex's smile was blinding in its brightness, one arm reaching for him as the other held her daughter close, and Gene had to blink back tears as Alex pulled him closer and pressed kiss after kiss to Molly's forehead, unable to stop grinning, laughing breathlessly at his repeated gasps of "Bolly… Bolly… Bolly, is this real? Are you real… What happened? Bolly? Oh God, Bolly…"

"Shut up, Gene," Molly shrieked, delirious with happiness, slinging one arm round him and bracing her mother upright with the other, higher than any druggie on joy and relief. Even as the medical team swamped the room and forced Gene back onto his chair, fearing for his welfare, the three continued laughing with sheer delight, staring round at each other in something akin to disbelief, hands clasped in each others', the very air in the room vibrating with their emotions and laboured breaths as the doctor pronounced Alex good and held the door open for her to be scanned.

Molly followed, her fingers slipping through Gene's as Dr Simmonds stepped out to hold his patient back, firmly telling him he wouldn't be allowed into the scanning room with Alex. Gene seriously considered punching the bastard for not letting him be with Alex, but when he lifted his arm to elbow backwards his legs all but gave way and he was left clinging to the doctor and a nurse who hurried over to make sure he didn't fall.

"Only normal, Gene, you've still got to regain your full strength. I promise you can see Alex as soon as she comes back from her scan."

"But I…"

He needed to be there with her, to make sure that she didn't simply disappear into thin air, didn't leave him as abruptly as she'd returned. But evidently his body didn't agree, and it was all he could do to stagger back to his bed and slump into it before exhaustion was swamping him in waves, the delirium of Alex's awakening leaving him drained but exhilarated.

By the time she returned, Gene was fast asleep, a beam still on his weathered face as Molly tip-toed in to kiss his cheek and squeeze his arm before heading back to her mother, slipping a note into his loosely-curled hand: Mum says she loves you, and hopes you've slept well. And she wants to talk, as soon as you wake up. So prepare yourself.

In another world, another life, Shaz slowly lifted her hand and crumbled a handful of earth onto a shining mahogany coffin.

A/N: I know it's been a horrific length of time since I updated this fic, but I'm hoping there's still someone left who wants to read it and some lovely people who will remember to review. Those who read Youngsters will remember Save the Fanfics- well, they've adopted this fic too. So, please save this fanfic, which was almost claimed after its last update through muse anorexia, and donate a review to save it. Thank you.

And just to disclaim: the name Shug comes from Alice Walker's The Color Purple. I am using the name for a hateful character because I really didn't enjoy the book. I had to read it for my A2 Eng Lit and… well. I'll stop talking about it, because I'm on my holidays, but I don't own Shug Avery or The Color Purple, so don't be nasty to me, OK? I'm a nice person really. I only bite if you bite first.