"Could you tell us, Molly, what did this man look like?" Asked a patronising woman across the table from me. Before I could reply, Evan spoke up. He was my 'brief'.

"Before my goddaughter answers any of your questions, I want to know why the case has been dropped for the last two years." He sounded really angry, and I agreed with him. Their DI had been murdered, and they hadn't even been bothering. The woman, DS James, looked uncomfortable.

"You told us that you didn't want Molly answering any questions after her mother's death…. And we accepted that, and then the Harrison case sprung up, which took up our attention. We've had a busy two years, Mr White! But we're doing all we can now, so please, if Molly could answer… as a prime witness…"

"He was quite ugly." I stated. "He had really greasy grey hair, but you know what he looks like because loads of people saw him, you even know his name." Evan chuckled next to me.

"We are just seeing if your memory is up to scratch, Molly. "

"I do remember, I'm not an idiot."

DS James was beginning to lose her patience with us.

"So, did he say anything that struck you as odd?" Her patronising tone had been abruptly replaced with a cold and abrupt manner.

"Well most things he said were odd. He said he'd blow my brains out, that it was his show, and started singing Ashes to Ashes… he also mentioned Mum's parents."

"I don't think this is getting anywhere, Sergeant. He did not tell Molly where he was going to be hiding out. Rather than asking fifteen year old girls ridiculous questions, I think you would be better off finding Alex's killer. Now, it's getting late, and Molly has homework to do, so I'm taking her home now. Good day, officer."

And with that, Evan got up and strode over to the door, opening it for me to leave out of.

"Bye." I said coldly, and quickly rushed out of the room.

Evan ranted in the car all the way home. I'm sure CID had their reasons for dropping Mum's case, but I still felt just as irritable as he did, and dinner was a very quiet affair, the two of us just wanting to go to bed.

It had been a few days since my last 'vision', so I was absolutely sure that it was just because it was my birthday, and Mum's death day, and I was feeling particularly highly strung. A part of me wasn't happy about this, they really intrigued me, but I knew that it was an unhealthy thing to happen to me, and that I was better off without them.

I did wonder why Evan was so desperate to get me out of the police station. If my statement was going to help, why would he be against that. I voiced this question to him, whilst eating my favourite meal, pasta, and he sighed.

"You're only fifteen, Scrap, you shouldn't have to be questioned by the police over your mother's murderer."

"But if it would help… He spoke to me, so they have to, I guess."

"It might not even be Arthur Layton." Evan pointed out.

"It obviously is…" I argued.

"Yeah, that would make sense."

"What do you mean?" I ask, catching on to how there seemed to be a hidden meaning behind this.

"Never you mind." Evan sighed.

"No, you have to tell me." I demanded, leaning forward.

"No." Evan said with finality.

"Yes!" I responded desperately. Evan looked at me for a long, long time, his eyes full of shame and anxiety. Finally, he pushed his empty plate away, downed a large glass of wine and sighed again.

"Molly, what you need to know is that this happened a very long time ago. But I regret it every single day…" I didn't say anything, and he started his story. "In 1981, my best friend, Tim Price… your grandad, went away. And myself and Caroline, your grandma, had an affair. Your mother was only eight at the time, and she had no idea. Well, somebody working on her house took pictures of us… hm, and then blackmailed her with them. The police got involved and they took the pictures, thank goodness, but they judged us for it… especially…" Evan paused, looking painfully confused again, "um, the DI… and that was it. However, Tim did find out… and he, to cut the story short, got Arthur Layton, who was already in jail, out, to get him the explosives to blow up him and his family in the car, after picking Alex up from school."

I said nothing, glaring at Evan and taking this in. So Grandad Price killed him and Grandma? Because of an affair, Evan had with Grandma Price.

"Please don't hate me, Scrap, it was a moment of madness…"

"How did Mum survive?" I asked coldly, changing the subject.

"She, by some miracle, ran out. She wanted to get her balloon. I went to run to her, but Gene Hunt got there first."

"Gene Hunt? But…" This confused me, Gene Hunt was Mum's colleague. But that was just a vision. Gene Hunt must have been brought in because of his involvement with looking after Mum, that must have been it.

"But what?" Evan asked.

"Nothing." I said quickly. "So, um… you and my grandma…?"

"It was a mistake, Scrap. A stupid mistake, that happened twenty seven years ago."

"Yeah… I know." I smiled. I didn't want to overreact. I checked the time, and it was getting late, so I bid Evan goodnight and went upstairs to bed, and fell asleep almost straight away afterwards. It didn't stay that way.

"You're not gettin' it, are you, Bolls? I had to join, even though it sickens me to the pit o' my stomach. In the words of Marlon Brando, you keep yer friends close, and yer enemies' closer! How am I suppos' to take on the Super and fin' out how this miserable thing goes if I'm being pensioned off early and left to rot in some bungalow in Margate? I'll tell you this, Drake, I hate it, I hate what they're doin' to this force."

Alex is speechless. "You're playing with them?"

"No, tha's jus' the way I'm standin'…" Alex looked almost emotional. "I almos' told you 'bout it on a couple of occasions, but, er, this is risky stuff, far better that you didn't know what I was up to. Tha' said, I didn't take into account wha' a determined pair of stockins' you actually are."

"… you can't just let Battleford go."

"Oh, e'll get life, I'll see to that. But we have even bigger fish to fry in this hornets' nest. We only have one stab at it or else it'll be like rats leavin' a sinkin' ship."

Alex smiled. "Metaphors. All over the shot…"

"I know. Clever, innit? So righ' now, I need to be square with Super dooper Macintosh, okay?" He stepped closer to Alex. Alex sighed.

"And what about Kevin Hales, did you have anything to do with stitching him up?"

"No, and I dunno know where he's gotten, either, but for now we'll keep that to ourselves. Things are gettin' a bit tasty round here."

Alex turned away and went and sat on the table. "You know, I, um, think I know what's important… and then I forget." Alex sighed. Gene walked over to her and leaned on the chair.

"What's important is you remember you're one of us."

Alex smiled. "Thank you."

"Why?"

"Because I'm scared, a lot of the time, and you were, well, one of the only things that I could rely on. By being stubborn, and angry… conceited…"

"You'll have me blushin'."

Alex sighed, and laughed. "You don't get it, do you? You don't get it. I thought I lost you."

The door opened.

Another dream. I punched my pillow in frustration… I had no idea what was happening, or what I was seeing. I didn't like not knowing. Feeling suddenly sick, I quickly got up and rushed to the bathroom, and leant over the sink, looking at my pale and flushed reflection in the mirror, my brown hair messy.

Alex stood with a gun pointed at a man with sunken eyes, grey hair who stood by the doorway.

"Hello Alex." He said with an Irish accent.

"Who are you?" She whispered.

"My name is Martin Summers."

"You stay where you are."

"Go ahead, shoot. Though I have to warn you, that you may be getting rid of the one person who can help you here. So, don't be scared."

Alex smiled humourlessly. "You make intimidating phone calls, you send me roses like some sort of crazed stalker, you try and poison me. Shouldn't be scared."

"I had to make sure you were the person I was looking for. And you are. There aren't a lot of people here from the other world, apparently you and I are the only two."

Alex readied her gun, getting very worked up now.

"Try to spook me out with this."

"If I were to say to you, you'd been shot in the head, you've just arrived at the hospital, and Molly is on her way to see you." Alex lowered her gun, shocked. "Would that help convince you?"

I gasped. No… no that is impossible. She went there… because she was shot. And ages had passed since my vision on my birthday and today… but apparently all that had happened in one afternoon. I abruptly through up, beginning to feel feverish. Evan rushed in, a few moments after I started, to hold my hair back and comfort me, before I passed out.

Alex and Gene are standing facing each other, inside an office. Alex looks emotional.

"I'm from the future." She finally uttered out. "I was shot… and I woke up here… with you. Just like Sam Tyler… only this is my reality. And I am fighting, not to die, because if I die, I will never get home. And it's insane, but there it is. And I trust you, which is why I'm telling you the truth… Guv?"

"You know, I ask for the truth, and you piss in my face."

I woke up to Evan carrying me back to my bed, a huge pain in my head, a pain that felt almost as bad as how Alex and Gene emotionally felt in my most recent vision.

So… more visions for Molly… and she is starting to realise… It pained me to write the last vision… I had to listen to it too, so now I'm sad. The next chapter is the last of the realisation stages. Hope you're enjoying it thus far! Note, the visions are supposed to be all rushed together, as opposed to me getting carried away :L -