I don't own Ashes to Ashes
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"Who was it?" Molly was calling from the top of the stairs. "Mum? Mum! Who was it?"
Alex snapped her head around to glance at her daughter, blinking several times before she managed to speak, looking from Molly to the phone in her hand with an evidently vacant expression on her face. "It was- it was erm..." She swallowed slightly, shaking her head, and then murmuring softly, "it was a wrong number... Someone asking for- for someone else..."
Molly frowned at her for a moment, and then walked down the stairs, holding her hand out expectantly. "Can I have it back?"
Alex simply nodded blankly, dropping the phone into Molly's hand, and then biting hard upon her lip. Molly said something, but Alex couldn't decipher it; she couldn't work anything out, except that somehow she'd heard Gene, and it hadn't been like when she'd heard him before – he'd sounded old, tired, shattered... He had sounded just as she knew him to be in this time, and her heart hammered wildly in her chest at the striking realization.
A moment later she'd grabbed her coat from the hook and called half-heartedly up the stairs. "I'm going out!"
Almost instantly, Evan stepped out from the living room, looking stern and questioning as he spoke. "Where are you going?" He asked, glancing at his watch. "It's half ten at night! You can't possibly-!"
"I'll be back in the morning!" Alex insisted. "I've got to go and do something!"
"Alex, don't be stupid! You're still-!"
She didn't hear the rest of the sentence; she'd already grabbed the car keys and slammed out of the door.
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It took her two minutes to decide where to go; her first port of call would always have been the flat – she had no idea where else he would be at this time of night, when most of the pubs were probably filled with inebriated and intoxicated youths... But then her heart hammered faster, she felt a sudden, familiar warmth across her stomach, and the next thing she knew she'd taken a sharp left without even realizing it, hitting the pedal to the floor as hard as she could at the same moment that she rummaged in the glove box for her warrant card.
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"Police!" She snapped, holding up her badge as she passed the inquisitive young nurse, then racing up the corridor to the lifts at the other end without another glance. She jammed the button hurriedly and repeatedly, brimming with impatience, until a moment later she let out a noise of frustration, pushing open the nearby door and racing up the three flights of stairs to the coma wards. She rushed past a young nurse, burst through a set of double doors, took a sharp right, and then followed the corridor down; she burst through the door of the room a few moments later, running forwards without any sign of hesitation.
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The door slammed open, and Gene's head snapped round instantly, his eyes widening as Alex burst into the room, evidently out of breath, her hair in disarray and her smooth skin flushed pink with exertion. For a moment, it was all he could do to look at her, shock evident on his features, but a moment later he'd pushed to his feet, just in time for her to throw her arms around his neck in an embrace that almost knocked him straight down again, their lips finding each other instinctively, Gene's hand holding her head firmly to his, arms tight around her as he kissed her desperately, needily...
When they eventually broke apart, he clung onto her, holding her against his chest and breathing raggedly in her ear. "You heard me," he mumbled into her hair, inhaling lungful after lungful of her scent and pressing a hard kiss to her head. "You- bloody hell, Bols..." He kissed her mouth again, as if to clarify that she were truly there, ignorant of the strange way she eyed the sleeping body in the bed until he realized that she hadn't moved for several moments and glanced down at her, a worried frown on his features. "Bols?" He murmured softly. "You ok?"
She nodded absently, gulping hard, and then tore her eyes away from the sight of her older, withered self to meet his blue gaze. "Can we go?" She whispered softly, her hand finding his and tugging gently. Gene nodded instantly, but he froze a moment later, glancing indecisively from one Alex to the other.
He seemed wracked with indecision, swallowing hard several times, before, eventually, he apparently made his mind up; Alex frowned, but said nothing as he moved towards the bed, keeping her hand still in his, even as he smoothed the hair from the sleeping face and dropped a gentle kiss to the withering forehead; Alex instantly felt warmth on her skin, felt a shiver run down her spine, and let an unwitting yelp of surprise leave her lips as heated air seemed to wash over her face, warm, whiskey-scented breath overwhelming her sense of smell.
"Sorry," Gene mumbled apologetically as he straightened up, misinterpreting her yelp for something different and gently tugging her towards the door and swallowing hard. "Old habit..."
She shook her head, wetting her lips for a moment before speaking. "It's fine," she murmured softly. "I don't mind..." She shrugged, making a wry attempt at humour as she added, "it's not like it's anyone else..."
Gene glanced at her worriedly, forehead creasing into an uncertain frown, but he said nothing, leading her out of the room by the hand, and grimacing slightly as pain shot up his legs.
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He collapsed onto the sofa with a loud grunt, and Alex could barely restrain her concern, hurrying into the kitchen under pretence of getting their drinks, and taking several moments to compose herself with deep, long breaths, before even considering reaching for the glasses.
He'd consented willingly to let her drive, leaving the Quattro parked around the corner from the hospital and settling into the passenger seat with an almost relieved expression on his face. He'd barely spoken the whole journey back, although his eyes remained fixed upon her face, his gaze intense and warm and causing her stomach to flip repeatedly. At the traffic lights, he'd leaned over, gently brushing her lips before drawing away; she'd been so taken aback by the gesture that she'd stalled, and the only recognition he gave was a gentle chuckle as the light turned green.
At the door to the flat he'd kissed her again, his mouth hard and insistent, hands desperate in her hair as he pushed himself against her, enveloping her in his embrace and sending shivers up her spine as he consumed her, overwhelmed her... He'd broken away with a groan, pushed open the door, and practically hobbled towards the sofa; the one time she'd asked what was wrong the whole while, he'd answered with a blunt "nothing", wound down a window and lit up a cigarette.
Now she stood in the kitchen, downing one whiskey in an attempt to quell the roiling worry that was churning her stomach repeatedly. She'd half-known, she thought, that he was ill; the desperation in his voice as it slipped through to her, the pain, the longing... She shivered, pouring them both a generous measure of scotch and taking a deep breath before walking into the living room, biting her lip at the sight of him.
His long legs were stretched in front of him, floppy grey hair falling back from his face, eyes closed and shirt loose. The jacket he'd worn was draped carelessly across the other end of the sofa, and a cigarette burned slowly in one hand, smoke lifting towards the ceiling as he snored gently on. Alex half smiled, quietly placing the glasses on the coffee table, stepping over his legs and sitting gingerly on the sofa, legs curled beneath her as her hands reached out to stroke a particularly striking wrinkle on his cheek. He stirred slightly, but didn't wake, the rhythm of his snores changing slightly as he subconsciously turned his face into her touch.
Alex simply sighed, tongue wetting her lips as she drank the sight of him in, her spare hand smoothing over the soft hair that fell back from his face. He was beautiful, she thought quietly, gently caressing his cheek as he gently slept on. She'd never tell him it of course, knowing full well what his reaction would be, but he was; the hair, the eyes, the lines of his face and the set of his mouth...He looked relaxed, calm, at peace, and she smiled to herself, leaning forwards to press a soft, whispering kiss to his forehead.
"Mmm," he murmured, stirring slightly, his voice heavy with sleep. "Wha'swrong?"
Alex smiled, shaking her head slowly, resting her forehead against his own. "Nothing," she assured him softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Nothing's wrong..." she waited a moment, watching in resigned amusement as he lifted the still-lit cigarette to his mouth, taking one drag before realizing it had burnt out, and exhaling to the side.
"You look tired," Alex said, looking at him concernedly as she gently traced his cheek with her fingers.
"Mmm," Gene nodded, leaning forwards to toss the cigarette butt in the ashtray, taking a swig of whiskey before settling back into the sofa, a small hiss of pain leaving his mouth as he shifted.
"Gene?" She asked worriedly, her hand on his shoulder, eyes narrowed questioningly. "Are you-?" She swallowed, changing tact as she spoke again. "Do you want to go to bed?"
"Dunno," he murmured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her closer, eyes scanning her face carefully. "Are you offerin'?"
Alex rolled her eyes, reaching for his hand and lifting it gently to her lips. "I really think you could use the sleep," she answered, slipping from his hold and standing up, but keeping his hand in hers. "Come on," she murmured quietly. "You're shattered."
"Mmmm," Gene nodded in agreement, shuffling forward on the sofa and then pushing up to his feet with a soft grunt. "Course I am; I ain't been sleepin'."
She watched him for a few moments, seeing him grimace as his leg jarred, jaw tightening visibly before he met her eyes; he seemed to freeze for a moment, eyes imploring and gentle upon hers, and she could only nod, biting her lip and murmuring a simple, "me neither." She saw him gulp, saw him wet his lips with his tongue, felt his hand tighten on hers... then a moment later, he was walking with difficulty, leading her by the hand towards the bedroom without a word.
Alex bit her lip, swallowed, and then followed him in.
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"I didn't think you'd come," he murmured in her ear a while later. Alex smiled.
"Don't put yourself down," she yawned. "It was very good." She patted his arm lightly, and felt him chuckle, shaking his head as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.
"You know what I meant," Gene replied, stroking down her back with his hand. "Didn't think you'd hear me."
Alex nodded, dropping a kiss to his shoulder as she did so. "I know," she murmured. "I wasn't sure I believed it at first..."
"But you still came?" He asked, looking down at her with tired interest.
She smiled, nodding again. "Call it curiosity," she murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on his chest. "Wanted to know if I was right..."
"Right?" Gene frowned. "Right about what?"
"About you," she yawned. "Us... connection..." She slipped her hand into his, kissing his neck gently as she smiled. "Go to sleep, Gene."
He was quiet, and Alex felt his eyes on her face for several moments before his arms tightened, his lips finding the shell of her ear, hand smoothing the silk of her hair as he spoke gently. "Thank you," he mumbled, kissing her cheek softly. His hand tracked her shoulders, her back, her neck, and he breathed gently against her skin. "You're warm," he mumbled, nuzzling at her neck. "Glad you're here..."
Alex swallowed hard, sliding her arm tighter around him and clenching her eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. If he noticed the warm wetness that slid onto his shoulder, he said nothing, arms enveloping her and nose buried in her hair as the pair of them drifted to sleep.
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"Alex..." His voice was soft, gentle, welcome, and Alex smiled to herself, burrowing closer into his embrace, hand stroking absently down his arms as she lay with him.
"Alex!" His voice was slightly more urgent this time, and she blinked her eyes open, glancing up at him and seeing a slight grimace on his features as he nodded down slightly. "You're lyin' on me bad leg," he grunted, hissing slightly as Alex moved to look, accidentally applying slightly more pressure. She jerked back instantly, fumbling apologetically as she sat up, attempting to extricate herself from him. He drew her instantly back, although he twisted her gently so that her head rested across his stomach, forcing her to move her legs away; she didn't mind, turning so that her cheek pressed against his flesh, her eyes turned towards his face as her hand found his.
"What's wrong?" She asked softly after a few moments of companionable quiet, during which his hand began to smooth and caress her hair and neck. Gene shrugged apathetically, turning his head slightly as he spoke.
"Nothin', Bols; I'm fine."
She rolled her eyes, dancing her fingers across his wrist as she kept her eyes fixed on his averted face. "You're an awful liar," she murmured softly, catching his fingers and brushing a kiss across each knuckle in turn. "Especially when you're naked."
He chuckled, shaking his head in slight exasperated amusement. "If I shove some clothes on, will you believe me?"
"No," she answered straight away, drawing his arm over her and settling comfortably in its hold, enjoying the warmth of his skin as she smiled against him.
"Shame," he mumbled, stroking her spine absently with his long fingers.
Alex waited for him to say something; when he didn't, she sighed, stroking down from his shoulder to his wrist. "I love you, Gene," she murmured, before sitting up and grabbing his shirt from the floor, dragging it around herself as he stayed where he was, his eyes following her as she slipped from the bed and padded around to his side. Leaning over him, Alex dropped a kiss to his forehead, sighing softly as his hand slipped to her waist. "You can trust me," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth with a warm tenderness, before heading out of the bedroom; a few seconds later, Gene could hear her moving around in the kitchen, boiling the kettle and making toast. He sighed softly, resting his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes.
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She came back with a stack of toast and two cups of tea, carried on a tray that looked as though it might snap at any given moment. She settled the drinks on Gene's bedside table, then settled in the bed next to him, holding the plate of toast between them and watching worriedly as Gene awkwardly lifted himself to a sitting position, letting out slight grunts and hisses when his bones jarred, occasionally rubbing his chest. Alex didn't dare ask again, but the sight of him was almost too much; she knew he wouldn't admit it hurt, however much he hissed and grunted, but she wished more than anything that he would tell her what it was, make her understand why he'd so quickly deteriorated when just over a month ago he was on comparatively perfect form.
"Stop thinking," he growled, grabbing a piece of toast and biting a large chunk out of it. "It's too early in the bloody morning for you to be thinking." He pushed the slice he held at her mouth, and she obediently bit, chewing slowly and watching him take another large mouthful for himself. She swallowed, about to talk, but he stopped her, pushing the remaining toast between her lips and chuckling as she scowled at him, taking a bite and removing the toast a moment later.
"I wasn't thinking," she murmured. "I was just assessing the situation."
Gene snorted, grabbing another piece of toast and shaking his head. "Give over and eat yer toast, Bols; before it gets cold."
"I like it cold," Alex murmured, but took another bite anyway. Gene smirked to himself, dropping a kiss to her brow, and then turning back to his own toast, one arm thrown around her shoulder.
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She rested her head on his chest, legs angled away from Gene's as his arm draped over her stomach, his fingers gentle against her skin. His breathing was slightly uneven in her ear, and she listened to it with trepidation in her stomach, her hand tight against his own as she felt the unsteady thumpety-thump-thump of his heart beneath her ear.
"What's wrong?" She whispered softly, after a long while of silence.
Gene remained quiet, his hand stilling briefly on her back, before returning to its gentle caressing, warming the soft flesh as he spoke quietly. "Just old, Bolly," he told her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "I just got old..."
Alex looked up at him, seeing the sadness in his eyes, the disappointment, the frustration... She bit her lip, reaching out to stroke his cheek and pressing gentle lips to the corner of his mouth. "You'll never be old to me, Gene," she murmured, closing her eyes and inhaling his smell. She felt his smile, felt his lips turn to brush her forehead, and then his hand slipped to her hair, combing through the locks gently.
"Still," he murmured, nose nuzzling gently at her cheek as his hand moved to dance across her collarbone, "it'd be an experience..."
"What would?" Alex frowned, glancing up into his tired face and seeing his smile as he answered her, hand on her waist as he spoke, chuckling.
"Shaggin' you in a zimmerframe," he quipped. She slapped him; Gene simply laughed.
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Alex awoke first, slipping from Gene's warm embrace and gathering his shirt back around her as she padded into the living room and through to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and crossing her arms over her chest. Gene had slept so soundly, she hadn't the heart to wake him when she glanced across to the digital clock, despite the fact it was almost three in the afternoon. He'd been exhausted, despite his apparent reluctance to sleep, and after a few soft words, he'd drifted off again, holding her close as he dreamt soundlessly. She'd dozed lightly, and when she came to again, Gene's arm rested only lightly around her shoulders, allowing her to slip out of his hold and head to the kitchen a few minutes later.
She poured two teas, adding several sugars in for Gene and mixing in a dash of milk before turning to leave the kitchen, cups in hand. She froze instantly in the doorway, her eyes falling on a pharmacy bag tossed carelessly on the side; for a moment, she was indecisive, biting her lip slightly in thought, before a soft groan of pain from the bedroom made her mind up for her.
She placed the cups down on the side, wetting her lips as she reached for the bag, tugging out an unopened box and turning it upwards so that the label was visible. She felt a chill creep over her bones as she read the label, felt her lip tremble and her knees shudder beneath her; she'd read it wrong, she told herself. She was just being silly, and when she looked back there'd be nothing but-
"Bols?" Gene's voice was questioning, gruff and rough with sleep, and Alex snapped around to look at him with tears in her eyes, wetting her lips as she held the box out to him.
"What are these for?" She asked, biting her lip and hoping to keep the quaver out of her voice as she watched Gene's eyes flicker from her hand to her face. He swallowed, cleared his throat, and then turned away, heading back to the bedroom without a word. Alex tossed them on the counter and followed him swiftly, heart hammering in her chest.
"Gene! Gene, don't go and-!"
He surprised her by turning around a moment later grabbing a jumper from the wardrobe and pulling it over his head before he stepped forwards, hands on her shoulders, eyes boring into her.
"Leave it, Bolly," he growled, eyes narrowed. "Just leave it."
"Gene, you're taking tablets for bone cancer, and you expect me to-!"
"I'm not bloody taking anything!" He retorted, pulling away and donning a pair of trousers, grimacing against a fresh wave of pain before pushing past her into the living area, brimming evidently with agitation and bristling with frustration.
"Well why not?" Alex snapped, waving her arm around as if for emphasis. "If you've been given drugs, Gene, you should be taking-!"
"Don't mother me, Alex!" Gene growled, turning to her with visible anger. "I've managed damn fine without you fer twenty-six years, so don't start tellin' me what I should and shouldn't do!"
"Don't start holding that against me!" She hissed, jabbing him in the chest. "I didn't ask you to wait around for that long! You were the one who started waving his gun about like a bloody toy!"
"You were the one who jumped in front of my bullet!" He retorted without thinking.
"Well you-!"
"Forget it, Alex!" Gene snapped suddenly, turning sharply on his heel and heading into the kitchen. Alex waited a few moments, bristling with indecision, and then followed him, slamming her hand down on the counter as he grabbed the drink she'd abandoned on the side and took a large gulp.
"No! No, you are not pulling the stroppy, moody, aggressive little shit routine with me again! It's not going to wash this time, Gene! I-!"
"Good," Gene murmured calmly, face turned away. Alex blanched, and then frowned.
"Good?" She repeated, brow crinkling.
"Yes." He nodded. "Good." He pushed off the counter, opened the cabinet over his head, and drew out a bottle of whiskey, splashing a large amount into his coffee.
"How is that go-?"
"I'm not asking it to wash, Alex," he growled, cracking his knuckles slightly. "I'm asking you ter drop it!"
"Gene, they could potentially save your-!"
"I said drop it, Bolly!" Gene snapped, slamming his hand down heavily on the counter. "I don't need a bloody therapy session from Lucien Freud! Just leave it!"
Alex bristled, pulling his shirt tighter around her as she spoke through her clenched jaw. "How do you expect to get any better, if you refuse to take the pills they give you?"
"Who said anything about getting better?" He murmured, picking up his coffee and sipping quietly, his eyes turned away as he swallowed back a wave of guilt, sensing Alex's eyes on him as she stepped closer, her breath shaking.
"What d'you mean?" She asked, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm and flinching as he pulled it out of reach. "You don't-?"
"I'm old, Bolly," he muttered, turning away and facing the wall, his face solemn and etched with pain as he spoke. "No point denying it."
"But you're not that-!"
Gene cut her off, shaking his head as he spoke. "Don't, Bolly," he murmured, swallowing a large mouthful of coffee and grimacing. "I'm older than a fossil, an' probably as borin'; growin' old and wise ain't all it's cracked up to be..."
"You're not old, you're just-!"
"Bols," he murmured, turning to her and cupping her face with his hands in a sudden, tender gesture that surprised her out of her frustration.
His forehead rested on hers, and a moment later he whispered a soft, quiet, "don't."
For a moment, Alex said nothing, feeling her breath shudder and her lip tremble... A second later her hands were in his hair, pulling his face to hers as tears streamed down her face; Gene didn't even bother to resist, gathering her closer as the warm droplets grazed his lips, eyes clenched shut while Alex clung to him almost desperately, her kiss hard and insistent as she sobbed in his arms. His only move was to steer her into the living room, lowering her to the sofa and allowing her to curl into his arms, her breathing ragged and sobs wrenching; he said nothing, lips hard against her forehead as he waited for the tears to subside.
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"Is it bad?"
She spoke softly, cutting through the stretch of silence with a voice that was so tentatively scared, Gene felt his stomach twist with pain. Her arms tightened around him, the pressure of her hands on his back almost doubling as she bit back another wrenching set of sobs.
"Dunno," Gene murmured, shrugging slightly and pressing a gentle kiss to her scalp, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and smiling tiredly to himself. He felt her frown, felt her turn her head slightly, and a few seconds later she drew away, frowning up at him in confusion.
"What do you mean you don't know?" She asked, eyes narrowing slightly. "Didn't they tell you? They should've told you what-!"
"They did," Gene sighed, tugging her back against him and grimacing only slightly as his knee cramped up.
"Well what did they say?" Alex demanded impatiently, moving to pull away; Gene dragged her straight back, sighing slightly as he did so.
"Well, when I went an' 'ad a scan two years ago, they said it was pretty bad..." he trailed off awkwardly, swallowing hard, then a moment later Alex was glaring accusingly at him, and Gene could only sigh, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette; she snatched it from his fingers and tossed it across the room.
"What the-?"
"You've got cancer, Gene! You can't just smoke like a chimney and expect it to all be alright! You're-!"
"Old," Gene said calmly meeting her eyes, although his voice was tinged with slight annoyance. "Get me my fag, Bols."
"I'm not letting you smo-!"
"Bols, do you really think it's going to stop the cancer if I miss this one bloody fag? I smoke like a chimney in the Black Country; just give us me fag, 'ey?"
"But-!"
"Alex..." His tone was tired, warning and exasperated, and Alex got up with a sigh, watching him sadly and then collecting the cigarette from where it had fallen behind the coffee table.
"They're bad for you," Alex whispered, settling back on the sofa as Gene lit up. "They'll end up killing you."
"I'm already dead, Bols," he murmured, resting his head back on the sofa and holding an arm out expectantly; she hesitated for a moment, biting her lip, then settled into the crook of his arm, head on his shoulder.
"You're not dead," she whispered back, resting her hand on his chest. "You're still here..."
"Almost," Gene answered, taking a large drag on his cigarette.
"You're not-!"
"I'm 'ere fer now, Bols," he muttered, kissing her gently on the forehead. "Just fer now..."
"But not forever?" She asked, voice cracking.
"Not for long," he murmured. He kissed her lightly, putting off her questions with a gentle brush of his own lips against hers; Alex felt herself shiver, felt her blood run cold, and moments later she was huddled into him, her arms clasped tight around his body as his fingers traced gently and absently through her hair.
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.... Hope it was alright...
Mage of the Heart