I don't own Ashes to Ashes

---

His hands were clammy and sticky against the leather of the steering wheel, jaw tight as his foot pressed the pedal flat, speeding through streets at top speed, ignoring Alex's stream of questions and demands, cogs whirring in his brain as he went. He glanced across at her, seeing her fuming and defiant, her face red and arms crossed over her chest; for the first time since he'd known her, she'd neglected to put her seatbelt on, and for the first time, he desperately needed her to.

"Put that bloody belt on!" He snapped, swerving round a corner at speed before looking back at her. "For God's sake Alex, just put it on!"

"I thought seatbelts were for Nun's, Gene, not Police Officers?" Her voice was clipped and tight, and Gene ground his teeth angrily.

"Just put it on!" He growled, glancing from her, to the road, then back again.

Alex defiantly crossed one leg over the other and looked out the window briefly, ignoring the sensible part of her that said a seatbelt was a good idea, particularly when he was driving like a maniac. "I'm not putting it on unless you tell me what's going on, Gene. You can't just drag me out of work and shove me in a car and expect me to be ok with it!"

His shoulders slumped, his head turned away under pretence of looking out of the wing mirror before answering, voice weak and vulnerable. "Alex, please, just put your belt on... I'll explain everything soon, I just-" He gulped, looking back at her, eyes pleading. "Please, Alex, just put it on."

Alex hesitated, hand resting on the belt behind her back as she looked at him, then slowly drew it across herself, feeling fear rise up in her belly like a volcano as she clipped it in place and saw the relief on his face as he lay his head back on the headrest, slowing to a more civilised speed and turning corners with confidence, as though he knew exactly where he was going...

"Gene, please, what the hell is going on?" Her voice was desperate and soft, and his hand left the wheel to wrap around her own, his palm sweaty and cold. She clung to it, hold tightening even as he looked away from her, his Adams apple rising and falling with every nervous gulp.

"Just... give me half an hour. Wait 'till we're at the services or something... I just- just let me think for a bit." He drew his hand away, and said nothing else.

---

When they finally stopped, he'd smoked half a packet of cigarettes and was lighting up yet another one as he stepped out. As he pulled Alex by the hand, she cringed, turning her nose up at the pungent stench; she had grown accustomed to- even fond of- the smell of Gene's cigarettes, but this was something else. He was smoking incessantly, one after the other, flicking one cigarette aside only to pull out the next, and the overwhelming scent was making her sick. She wanted to snatch them from his grasp, throw them in the bin and tell him to stop, but his silence and his previous aggression quelled that desire, forcing her to remain quiet and allow herself to be steered towards a small cafe within the service station. He pushed her towards a table, letting her go as he headed for the counter and ordered two coffees and a packet of shortbread, which, on returning to her, he placed on the table and toyed with half-heartedly, whilst Alex sipped at her coffee in frustrated silence. She held out for fifteen minutes, watching him run his hands through his hair and crack his knuckles endlessly, before suddenly she snapped, reaching the end of her tether and barking out the question much more violently than she intended. "Are you going to tell me why the hell you've dragged me out of London?"

He looked at her, something akin to hopelessness passing over his features, before he sighed, pulling the plastic lid from his polystyrene cup, placing it down on the table with fingers that shook. Alex reached out, pulling the coffee away from him and closing her hand around his. Gene stared at her hand for several moments, and then his expression fell, eyes softening and shoulders slumping. Alex could hear his teeth grinding against each other as he averted his gaze, felt the grip he returned on her hand tightening to an almost painful level, and squeezed back, desperately seeking an answer.

"Gene, I'm just-"

He interrupted, the weakened expression of his face disappearing behind a mask of hardened disregard as he saw the concern on her face, wishing it would go away, his grip hard on her fingers. "I'm not a nancy poof, Alex, and I don't need yer pity! I didn't bring you here to get all fairy on you, so stop getting so worried!" He pushed her hand away, sitting back in his chair and looking at anything but her. Alex waited only a moment before standing up, picking her jacket up from the back of the chair as she did so.

"Fine. I'm getting a taxi back to London; if you decide to grow up anytime soon, I suppose I'll see you at home!" She moved to push her chair under the table and turn away, but a moment later Gene was beside her, arm securely around her waist and pinning her to him.

"Alex," he murmured, twisting her head to his, eyes desperate, "don't go."

For a split second, he expected her to shrug out of his hold, to run away and order a taxi and never come back; for a split second, she considered it. But in the brief moment where his eyes met hers, she saw his pain, his hurt, the rare moment of open vulnerability that made her heart constrict with pain, and a second later she was slipping her arms under his jacket, hands locking behind his back as she allowed herself to bury her nose in his shirt. He held her tight, arms crushing her into his chest as he inhaled the scent of her hair.

"What's wrong?" She murmured, tracing her hand up his back and feeling his chest rise and fall as he relaxed, his arms loosening ever so slightly as one hand tangled in her hair. "I can't help unless you tell me, Gene..."

He kissed her forehead, eyes closed tightly as he whispered back. "Can't help it anyway, Alex," he said quietly. "Just need you to..." he trailed off, clenching his jaw again and looking away when she tilted her head up to look at him.

"Need me to what, Gene?" She whispered, cupping his cheek and drawing him round to meet her eyes again. He gulped, stroking her face with trembling fingers as his voice rose in his throat, cracking and splintering as it emerged in a low, throaty whisper.

"Just don't leave me on my own, Alex." He pulled away from her, avoiding the million and one questions burning in the depths of her eyes and drawing her out of the cafe, leading her back to the car, his grip tightening on her hand as they went.

As they slid into their seats, Alex glanced over at him, seeing his torment written plainly across his face, wishing more than anything that he would share it with her, tell her what was wrong...

"Belt," he said shortly, turning the key in the ignition and looking at her expectantly. She stared for several moments, and then sighed, clipping the belt into place. The moment he heard it click, he drew away from the parking spot, eyes fixed on the road, hands still bare. He drummed on the wheel impatiently, and Alex sighed.

"Gene, please, just tell me where we're going?" Her voice was gentle, but he could sense the agitation and, with a soft sigh, jabbing the radio with one finger as he did so, Gene replied, voice abrupt and to the point.

"Manchester."

---

Alex said nothing else; she didn't dare ask. Something was eating away at him, and as the drive stretched on and she watched him grow more and more agitated, she developed theory after theory as to what it was, each as unlikely as the next. He was quiet and distant, but somehow that was bearable; he was often like that, breaking off into his own stream of thoughts that she knew she had no right to pry on... no, that wasn't what unnerved her.

What bothered her most, she realized, was his newfound obsession for her safety; every few minutes she would catch him glancing nervously across at her seatbelt, as though worried she might have disconnected it and fallen out of the door. On the two occasions that they stopped – once for petrol, once for a toilet break – he made sure that she'd reconnected it before he started the engine, once even tugging at the belt himself even after it was secured, as though to test it. He'd never cared before – in fact he'd gone so far as to say seatbelts were for wimps and nancys – but today it seemed the most important thing in the world, and her worry multiplied tenfold each time she looked at him.

---

He knew he should tell her. He knew she was worried, angry, agitated and pissed off, but he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud, as though speaking the words would make the whole situation more real... So instead, he did the only thing he knew how to do; he was brash, he was demanding, he was protective and he was a moody git, and for a while, he could displace that sickening worry in the pit of his stomach. As long as she kept her belt on, as long as she was safe and well, he knew he could be at peace with himself... at least until they got to Manchester.

---

Alex knew he was home a second after he did; something in the way he gripped the steering wheel, in the manner with which he swerved around corners and into side streets, changed dramatically. He knew these roads like the back of his hand, could have navigated them with his eyes closed, and for a brief moment, his face relaxed, his body loosening up as he cruised through his home town. The second the car stopped, he was rigid and agitated once again, staring at the terraced housing to their left with a look of complete trepidation and fear. Alex glanced nervously back and forth, noting the slight glisten of sweat on Gene's brow and upper lip, the way his tooth toyed with his lip as a child might before a music recital... Her hand reached out to cover his, feeling, yet again, the cold evidence of his anxiety and squeezing at him in a silent offering of support. Gene barely glanced at her before his eyes returned to the housing, staring for a moment longer before getting out of the car very suddenly, tearing his hand from Alex's as he slipped out, and slamming the door behind him. Alex flinched once again, knowing full well that Gene would never have dared slam the Quattro's door without good reason. A dog howled nearby as she got out of the car, and she was almost shocked to find Gene waiting for her, his hand outstretched, an intense look in his eyes as he awaited her response. She hesitated, scared of a spectre she neither knew, nor wanted to, before placing her hand in his, feeling his fingers wrap around her small hand, his strong arms tugging her closer, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and leading her towards a battered looking door with a number ten nailed to the middle.

---

The inside of the house was narrow, but clean, with old photographs hanging from the walls, covered in a thin sheen of dust, but still clearly visible. A small mirror was hanging from the wall, a large oval decorated with intricate carvings, with small notes blu-tacked to the mirror itself. A carpeted staircase lay to their right, but Gene pulled her past it, his strides long and familiar, as though he had tread these very steps many times. He drew her past an ajar wooden door leading onto a kitchen, past another wooden door that was shut fast, and towards the end of the hallway, to yet another plain door, this with peeling paintwork and chipped wood. He stopped in front of it, hand freezing an inch away from the handle, hovering hesitantly as he glanced at Alex. Still slightly bewildered, she nodded, standing on her tiptoes to lightly brush his cheek with her lips. He pulled back slightly, but as he did so his hand closed on the handle, opening the door and holding his breath.

The moment he entered, he dropped Alex's hand, walking over to the creaking double bed in the centre of the room and leaning down to cup one hand around the cheek of a pale, grey haired woman, whose breathing was ragged and pained.

"Yer daft cow," he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips, "what you gone and caught now, Mam?"

---

Alex stared, watching as Gene sat himself on his mother's bed, the brash facade gone, replaced by a soft nature that both chilled and warmed her. He sat with Maddie Hunt's hand clasped firmly between both of his, murmuring apologies and explanations in the voice that Alex had only ever heard in the gentle cocoon of post-coital bliss. He was gentle and tender, running his hand over Maddie's forehead in an assured movement, brushing locks of hair aside in an almost paternal gesture. Tears formed in her eyes, her heart tightening at the sight of him so open, showing a side to his personality that he had always kept hidden, locked away from prying eyes. She could hear his voice cracking as Maddie remained silent, wanted to reach out to him, hold his head to her chest and stroke his hair until he had chased the worry away, but something stopped her, and instead, she took to looking around the room, taking in every detail, thirsty for an insight into Gene's private world... There was little to note; a few bottles of medication, a sewing box that was covered in an inch of dust, and a single photograph, framed and lovingly placed on the vanity table. Alex was drawn to it, fingers tracing the simple frame before stilling, eyes resting on the image itself, which caused her to gasp quietly. The picture was plain enough, the sort of thing any mother might have in their bedroom, but it was the face of the youngest boy that caused her to stop, made tears spring to her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

A young, light-haired woman had her arms thrown around two young boys, one who looked to be in his early teens, whilst the other was roughly seven or eight. The picture was full of laughter, and Gene's face was unmistakeable; the eyes shone out with mischief, his floppy hair falling onto his forehead, and the smile on his lips open and warm. The lines that would form on his face in years to come had not yet hardened his features, but there was still no mistaking him. Her finger traced over the glass frame, smoothing down the face of Gene's childhood, before he was too hardened by his father's bullying. Her eyes fell on a large gash across the back of Gene's palm, and once again she brought her finger down to caress it, smiling sadly as she glanced again at his beaming smile; it was just like him, she thought, to ignore the pain in favour of something better... Skimming over the photo, she looked at his brother, Gene's opposite in every way. Whilst Gene was blonde, Stuart's hair was jet black, and while Gene was broad-shouldered even at the tender age of seven, Stuart was slighter of form, and yet despite it all, there was no mistaking their relation; their faces were practically identical, their smiles both slightly lopsided, but no less happy. Alex felt her lip quiver slightly, looking at the happy family before her, wondering how such a joyous group could be ripped apart by one single man, wondered where he was while this picture was taken...

An arm slid around her waist, a head resting on her shoulder, and Alex was alerted to Gene's presence once again, feeling his warm breath on her skin, his spare hand covering hers. "He was away," Gene said quietly, as though reading her mind; she didn't need to ask who 'he' was. "Told us 'e had a work meeting... he was probably shagging some other bird, but we buggered off to the park anyway." A small smirk tugged at his lips as he spoke, "Stu stole his old camera and got some bugger walking his dog to take it... gave it her for Mother's Day and got ten shades of shit knocked out of him for the trouble, but she's never took it down since." He kissed the tender skin behind her ear, feeling her fingers entwine themselves around his own. She lifted it up, her fingers tracing the ridge of a red scar that stretched across the back of his hand.

"How did you do this?" She asked, eyes sad, tears continuing to trickle down her cheeks unchecked, guilt rising in her chest as she realized that she should be the one offering comfort, not the other way round. Gene didn't seem to mind, and his lips followed the salty trails of her tears, kissing each droplet away with a tender caress of his lips against her skin.

"Broken glass," he murmured, "fell in it and got a huge bastard piece in me hand..." she felt his shrug as his arm tightened on her waist, holding her closer. "I'd done it a couple of days before that – needed stitches an' all." He glanced slightly towards his mother, sleeping heavily in the bed. A sad smile stretched across his lips and he pulled back slightly, leading Alex out of the bedroom and back along the hall, into the kitchen.

---

The table was scrubbed, but dusty, and it was clear that nobody had used it for several days. The look on Gene's face was one of annoyance, and she squeezed lightly at his hand, "Gene, maybe you should-"

"She hasn't been eating," he said, opening the cupboards and searching for something to eat. A few minutes later, he was pouring tinned pasta into a pan and pulling plates down from the cupboards. Alex stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, before moving to fill the kettle, setting it to boil and searching for cups, finding three chipped mugs in the cupboard and setting them down on the side, before walking back over to wrap her arms around his waist. He placed one arm around her, his hand stroking her shoulder, whilst the other stirred the pasta half-heartedly.

"You should have told me," Alex said eventually, hand rubbing his stomach gently in a reassuring gesture.

Gene sighed, resting his head on hers and squeezing her slightly harder against him. "Sorry," he said gruffly, eyes fixed on the pasta in the pan.

Alex hesitated, and then spoke again, voice quiet and gentle as she rested her head against his head. "Is she... will she get better?"

He shook his head, jaw clenched, knuckles whitening around the wooden spoon in his hand. "She's old, she's ill, and she can't be arsed to fight it anymore..." he shrugged, lifting a single shell of pasta out on the spoon and holding it out for Alex to taste. She did so obediently, but quickly swallowed, shaking her head and cringing.

"That's still cold!" She complained, wiping her mouth. Gene managed a small smile, turning the heat up to full and dropping the spoon in the pan. His hand moved to her chin, tilting her face upwards and pressing a lingering kiss to her mouth, the first such action in what felt like forever.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he drew back.

"About the pasta?" Alex asked, still attempting to rid herself of the taste. "You should be- it's horrible."

He stroked her hair, shaking his head slowly before pulling her mouth briefly to his once more. "Not about the pasta..."

She met his eyes, knowing that was the most explanation she would get and nodding her head, softly reaching out to stroke his cheek. "It's ok," she murmured, hiding a sad smile as he leant into her touch, his eyes closed to the sensation of her hand on his face.

"It's not," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her wrist, "I should've told you... I jus' couldn't..." For a moment he was still, saying nothing, eyes closed as he breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume, and then suddenly he was clinging to her, arms enfolding her tight against his chest, his breath hard and heavy in her ear. His strong arms crushed her, making her breath come short as he buried his face in her curls, but she responded, wrapping her arms around him and allowing him to hold her, his whole posture reeking of desperation.

"Just don't leave me, Alex," he said softly, his mouth pressing hard against her temple, his breath shaking and unnerved. "I can't lose you, too."

"I'm here, Gene," she replied softly, pain shooting through her whole body as she heard his torment echoed through every word, "I'm here."

----

Despite Gene's best attempts to get her to eat something, Maddie remained asleep for the rest of the day, only managing a weary smile at him as he offered her the bowl of pasta before slipping back into slumber. Gene pulled up a chair beside his mother's bed and stayed there, keeping silent vigil, his large, rough hands holding onto her slender, smooth one as though it were a lifeline. For a while, Alex curled up in his lap, stroking away the lines of worry that etched themselves into his face every time his mother released a particularly harsh breath or cough. At around six, Gene reached into his pocket, pulling out several twenty pound notes and pressing them into her hand.

"Go get yerself some clothes," he muttered, "and some food..."

Alex nodded, sensing that, while practicality might well be a factor, he wanted to be alone. She slipped out of his lap and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, her finger trailing down his face. "Do you need anything?"

He shrugged, "A barrel of whiskey and a cigarette factory?" With a gentle squeeze of her hand and a small, sad smile, he added, "no, I'm fine... Take the car." In a moment, he'd dropped his keys into her hand, turning back to his mother without another word.

Alex moved to leave, and then said quietly, "I won't scratch it."

Gene looked back to her, a ghost of a smile forming as he nodded, "yeah... don't scratch it."

---

When Maddie woke up, Gene's first instinct was to drop her hand and go and find her something to eat, but the moment he moved to do so, her slender fingers tightened around his, and he obediently settled back into his chair, squeezing her hand lightly.

"Bout time you woke up, yer dozy cow!" Gene's voice was teasing, but under it all he sagged with relief, blissfully aware of the feel of her warm hand and the gentle pulse at her wrist.

She smiled at him, though it was shaky and sad, before croaking out a quiet, scolding reply, "that's no way to talk to your old Mam!"

He gave a light laugh, lifting himself to sit on the mattress, reminded in that instant of similar moments in childhood, when he knew his father was too far away to see him there. He remembered with a pang the day he had come in after vomiting as a result of a nightmare, curling up against her at the young age of five, listening to her soothing voice as he sobbed onto her shoulder, the acrid taste in his mouth violent and abrasive, his shaken sobs causing his whole body to shudder in grief...

"He's gunna kill me," he'd told her, clasping her hand tightly in his. "He said I'm no good at anything..."

"He's not going to kill you, Genie," she'd whispered, "nobody's going to touch you when you're here..." And he'd felt safer; he'd fallen asleep and slept soundly, his mother's hand clasped firmly in his own until dawn had broken and the light had slid in through the un-shuttered window.

To the day, his mother's bedroom remained the one constant source of solitude in his life; he never would have entered whilst his father slept there, but without him, when it was just the two of them and Stuart in the house, Maddie's bedroom was the safest place to be.

It was the same now- despite knowing full well that it might be the last time he sat here with her, there was still that glow of maternal warmth emanating from her as he leant to press a light kiss to her forehead, still that reassuring presence that drove away some of the demons of grief and worry which had been gnawing at his stomach all day.

She was smiling up at him, her eyes fluttering slightly as she said, "you look very handsome, Genie."

"Bloody hell, you must be ill," he muttered jokingly, squeezing her hand lightly in his own. "You look rough as a dogs arse though, Mam," he grinned down at her, noting how her lips turned up at the corners.

"How you ever managed to charm that young lady of yours is beyond me," Maddie murmured, eyes drooping as she yawned. "She's a pretty one though, I'll give you that..."

Gene stared, "Thought you were sleeping?"

She laughed, a rasping sound, but it was laced with amusement nonetheless. Her voice was weak, but she spoke smoothly enough, "I would have said hello sooner, but I didn't want to risk whatever culinary triumph you concocted; I haven't yet forgotten your burnt bean-baps."

Gene looked down, a small smile on his face as he changed the subject, "so you liked her, then?"

Maddie sighed, opening her eyes with effort and shaking her head slowly; for a moment, Gene thought she was going to say no. "It doesn't matter if I like her, Genie," she said softly. "You're the one who's looking to impregnate her!"

Gene scowled. "Mam, I-"

"You don't fool me, son," she said breathily, smiling as Gene's face flushed slightly, "even if she hasn't quite cottoned on yet." With a smile, she sank back onto her pillow, "make sure you hold onto her, Genie; she's making you happy- even a daft tart on her death-bed can see that!"

"You ain't a daft tart, Mam," he murmured quietly, "an' you ain't gunna cop it either, so-"

"Now stop that," Maddie said quietly, "I'm old, I'm sick, and I'm tired... It's more than my time, and well you know it!"

Gene searched for words, desperate to get his feelings across, to make his grief known...But he didn't know how to say it, and at that moment Alex returned, walking in and standing nervously at the bottom of the bed. It took Gene several moments before he could tear his eyes from his mother long enough to turn his head around, but when he did he felt the knot in his chest loosen, the sight of Alex a balm to the pain that was slowly threatening to split him in two. She walked forwards hesitantly, gingerly settling herself in front of him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Gene tugged her closer, his arm sneaking slowly around her waist and rejoicing at the reassuring warmth of her body, the familiar calming as his fingers flitted over her hips and waist.

"Mam, this is-"

"I know who it is," Maddie smiled tiredly, her breathing deepening.

Gene ground his teeth, then muttered, "this is me-"

"She knows who I am as well, you know!" Her loud exclamation was followed by a large coughing fit, during which Gene released Alex, his arms lifting Maddie into an upright position with ease, rubbing her back until it died away into a small splutter, and he lowered her again with a surprising gentleness.

"Daft cow," Gene murmured, twining his fingers around Alex's without taking his eyes away from Maddie's face, "that'll teach you to get all smarmy with me!"

His mother shushed him, raising a trembling hand to rub her forehead tiredly.

"You should get some sleep," Alex said softly, glancing at Gene's mother with concern. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water, maybe?"

Maddie smiled, "No, no, I'm fine..." there was a brief silence, in which the only sound was the ragged breaths tearing through her throat, before she said, almost embarrassed, "a cold flannel, perhaps?"

Alex smiled, tenderly kissing Gene's forehead as he looked at her gratefully, then heading out of the room, searching through the many bags she had brought back with her for a fresh flannel, then filling a tin bowl from the kitchen with cold water. When she returned to the bedroom, Gene was back in his chair, hand still holding onto Maddie's as her quivering snores filled the room. Alex walked over, placing the bowl down on the bedside table and soaking the flannel, folding and wringing it before gently brushing it across Maddie's forehead.

Gene watched, a sadness gripping him as he took the sight in; he'd brought her along for support, knowing he couldn't face losing his mother alone, but he hadn't expected her to settle into the role so calmly, mopping his mothers head as though she'd known her for years. The tender way in which she ran her fingers down Maddie's cheeks, the assured manner with which she daubed at the excess water made his heart ache bitterly, and he had to turn his eyes away, the hand that rested on his thigh clenching painfully as he attempted to displace the sour grief that threatened to consume him. It was only when Alex's cool hands cupped his own face that he turned to meet her gaze, feeling completely naked beneath the soft sympathy that shone from her eyes. Her fingers lingered on his cheek before she bent forwards, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, and then pulling away. "Get some sleep, Gene," she whispered, "you won't do any good exhausting yourself with worry."

He nodded slowly, gaze resting on Maddie's sleeping face, the flannel resting lightly over her head causing him to frown, "what's wrong with her?"

Alex ran a hand through his hair, fingers trailing over his scalp and causing him to sigh slightly. "She's got a fever," she replied, watching as he grimaced, his Adam's apple rising and falling before he stood up, still holding Maddie's hand. He hesitated, and then glanced at Alex, his eyes pleading.

"Sit with her?" He asked quietly, reaching for her hand and placing it over his mothers. "And wake me if- if anything changes..." His voice trailed off, eyes resting on Maddie's face briefly, before returning to Alex.

Alex nodded, slipping her fingers around Maddie's whilst her spare hand came to rest on Gene's cheek. "I will," she whispered, "get some sleep."

Mutely, Gene nodded his assent, leaning down to kiss his mothers cheek almost nervously. When he turned back to Alex again, he pulled her towards him, pressing his lips to her temple, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the scent of her, trying his best to displace anything else. He lingered there for a few moments, filling his lungs with the very essence of her being, before pulling away and moving from the room.

When he reached the door, Alex spoke, her voice timid. "Gene?"

He turned, his hand on the wooden door frame as he looked at her with tired eyes, "yeah?"

There was another moment of hesitation, a brief few seconds where the words on her tongue resounded through her head like the executioners drum, but then she said them, they tumbled from her lips: "I love you." The words hung in the air for what felt an eternity, and for a minute she hoped that he hadn't heard them, prayed that he would ask her to repeat it and she could fabricate something else...

His blue eyes were unreadable, closed off and full of grief, but then he was nodding, the corner of his mouth rising slightly as he spoke before turning away, "Goodnight, Alex."

----

The hours crawled by and the clock ticked loudly in the corner. Alex could hear Maddie's breathing growing more uneven as she stirred into consciousness, hear the rasping breaths as she began to choke, and straight away she was on her feet, repeating Gene's earlier actions and holding his mother in a sitting position as she coughed. When the fit died down, and Maddie had pressed her hand lightly to Alex's wrist, she lay her back onto the pillows, nervously retrieving her hand and wondering vaguely if Gene's mother would disapprove and shirk her care, ask for her son instead... but the grip on her hand was returned, and as Maddie's breathing began to even out again she turned her head to Alex, a small smile on her lips.

"Thank you, Alex..." she coughed slightly, and then smiled again, nodding slowly. "He does love you," she said wisely. Alex blinked, meeting her eyes and finding herself incapable of speech. "Oh, I know he won't tell you, and he won't call it love..." Maddie's voice was sad, grating and weak. "But he does; it's in his eyes, y'see... his eyes give him away every time." She squeezed Alex's hand, as though offering consolation for some worldly wrong. "You will take care of him, won't you, Alex?" Her voice was weak, and Alex shifted the chair closer, nodding slowly.

"I will, yes," she whispered quietly, squeezing Maddie's hand in response.

"He's a good boy," Maddie murmured, a maternal smile of pride spreading over her face, "and he'll do right by you an' all..." She yawned, spluttering briefly before adding, in the same joking tone that Alex often heard from Gene, "all this dying is hard work you know- you'd think it'd be quicker, wouldn't you?" A small laugh echoed around the room, and Alex smiled as Maddie yawned yet again, before falling once more into sleep.

---

When Gene walked in later on, he looked completely dishevelled, his face tired and shirt crumpled, and Alex knew straight away that, if he had slept at all, it had been fitful. His hair was ruffled, and as he approached her she could see his nails bleeding as a result of incessant, nervous biting. He touched her shoulder lightly, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head.

"You should get some sleep too, Alex," he murmured, taking Maddie's hand in his own and breathing deeply. "Any change?"

Alex shook her head. "No. Nothing."

---

Please don't kill me....

Thank you to Feline333 my lovely beta, as always :-)

Mage of the Heart