Here you are then...the final chapter...or is it...? Thank you so much for all your reviews. I'm glad you've enjoyed the story and let's just say...it's never over til it's over...

London – June 2008

Alex slept fitfully on and off for the next few days. Her mind wandered from the past to the present, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ground herself in that place she wanted to be. Back in 1981. Back in Gene's arms. There were times when she was convinced that she was there, so convinced that she could smell his scent and taste him on her lips, but then she would open her eyes and find herself still in the hospital bed, Molly and Evan periodically at her bedside. She was glad to see them, so glad to be back with her daughter, but the aching pain of loss was so acute that it often brought tears to her eyes.

She woke after a particularly restless sleep, head woozy and eyes heavy, to find Doctor Ryan standing at the bottom of the bed. He was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, his hands thrust into his pockets.

"Hello," he greeted her.

"Hi," she replied weakly, struggling to sit up in the bed.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Crap."

He smiled, "You will do for some time. You took a nasty blow to the head. But you were lucky. A few inches to the left…"

"Lucky…" she echoed, "someone else told me I was lucky recently."

He paused, as if deciding whether or not to speak, "You've been saying my name in your sleep." He smiled ruefully, "I hope whatever it was, it was good."

Alex smiled slightly, "Nothing like that. I know your father."

Daniel looked at her in confusion. "How do you know him?"

"We...we worked together," Alex replied, slowly. "A long time ago."

"But…"

"A long, long, time ago…" she rubbed the bandage on her head.

"He retired from the force fifteen years ago and, you look around my age…"

"Trust me," she said, her tone slightly sharper than intended, "I know him."

Daniel nodded in agreement, as if no longer daring to disagree. "He wasn't the easiest person to work with, I imagine."

Alex smiled, "No." She looked at him, almost as a child seeking information on what their parents were like before they grew up and became parents. It felt so strange, looking at Daniel now and thinking that he didn't know the Gene she knew. Nor had he ever known Meg. "He spoke a lot about your mother." Not entirely true, but true enough.

Daniel's head snapped up, "He did?"

Alex nodded, "He loved her very much."

He looked away again and she could tell he was blinking back tears. "I never knew her. She died a few weeks after I was born. Murdered."

"I know."

He looked at her again, "It was a serial killer. Someone she worked with. He murdered other women in 1974 before murdering her and then again, in 1981…" his voice trailed off, "I wish I had known her."

"From what I understand," Alex said gently, "she was a lovely person."

Daniel smiled faintly at her, "Thank you."

"You're very like her, you know, looks-wise. But…you're your father's double."

He laughed, "Without the sarcasm and perpetual cigarette in hand."

She laughed too, "Exactly. With your genes, I'm surprised you didn't end up as a police officer."

Daniel made a face, "Not really for me. I think everyone thought I would become one. Even I said I wanted to at one point. Grandfather, mother, father…all cops. But I broke my leg when I was seven and, after that, I wanted to be a doctor."

Alex recalled the memory of the child in the hospital bed. "I'm sure your family is very proud of your achievements."

"My granddad is," he replied, "goes on about it all the time whenever I see him. He lives down here now. Moved down when Sarah and I had our first. Spoils them rotten."

"You have children?"

Daniel nodded. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and opened it. Passing it to her, she saw a photograph of a smiling woman, his wife presumably, and three grinning blonde children. "That's Eddie on the left. He's ten now. Jack, who's seven and that's our baby." Alex looked at the youngest little girl on the end. "Megan. She's nearly four."

Alex looked up and Daniel smiled ruefully. "I'm sure your mother would be pleased that you called your daughter after her." She passed the wallet back to him. "No Eugene, I see."

Daniel laughed, "Dad made me promise not to call any of my kids after him. What was it he said? "Don't saddle the little bastards with summat like that."

Alex laughed fondly, "That sounds like Gene." She paused, "Do you have a good relationship with him?"

"Not in the beginning. It was only when I moved down here to go to university in 1992 that we really bonded. Before that, I was living up in Manchester and he was down here." So, Alex thought, you didn't make the effort after all. "But that was my choice. He wanted me to come down and live with him, but I was happier up there." Alex silently took her criticism back. "Once I was down here full time, we got on like a house on fire. He even got close to my granddad again which was something I thought would never happen, not after everything that happened with Mum."

Alex smiled, "I'm glad. I bet he never stops giving you a hard time though." She could just picture Gene as a hard father to please, but in a caring way.

Daniel's face took on a faraway look, "He did."

"Did?"

He turned to face her and she could see real pain in his eyes, "He died two years ago."

Alex felt her breath catch in her throat, "Died? But…"

"Liver cancer," Daniel explained, "I knew it would either be the booze or the fags that would do him in. I tried to tell him, but all he said was that he'd been drinking and smoking for so long that if I thought my Nancy-boy doctor ways were going to make him give up I had another thing coming."

She couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe he was gone. That she wouldn't have the chance to… "Did he…" she asked haltingly, "Did he ever…I mean…after your mother…?"

Daniel nodded. "There was someone else. Someone he worked with. I can vaguely picture her. She came to see me in the hospital with my dad and I think there was one other time with my grandad... Tall with…dark permed hair…" he smiled wistfully. "I didn't see my dad very often at that time and I don't think he wanted to expose me to his new relationship, so I think I only ever met her again about twice." He looked down at his feet, "Anyway, she died a few years later."

Alex looked at him. Could he be talking about her? Was that how her leaving was explained to Gene and the others? "When you say died…?"

"Gosh, it must have been…" he shook his head, "1983 I reckon. I never did find out what happened to her. He never really talked about it. Just said that she had passed away." He sighed, "It can't have been easy to lose another person he loved. The funny thing is…" he laughed slightly, "her name was Alex Drake too, and she looked quite like you. You don't have an aunt or something with the same name, do you?"

"No," Alex said, her body flooded with cold, "No I don't. What…?"

"Sorry," he reached into his pocket, cutting her off. "I'm being paged. I'll come back and see you later on. I want to know more about what Dad was really like." Quick as a flash, he had gone, leaving Alex free to digest everything she had learned.

XXXX

"I did as you asked," Evan said, the following morning. "I checked back all the records, but there's no mention of the name of the eleventh kidnap victim."

"But there was an eleventh victim!" Alex said.

"Yes, but her name was never released to the press due to the fact that she was the only one to survive. I've tried my best to get access to the police files but it's almost impossible," he shook his head, "freedom of information isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"But…what about Gene Hunt and…"

"Yes, there was a DCI Gene Hunt in the Met in the 80s. I remember him myself, but Alex…"

"And Meg?" she persisted.

Evan nodded, "Megan Ryan was murdered in March 1974 by Derek Wallace. She was apparently the victim he wanted and he went to his grave protesting that he had only done it because he loved her, but I don't see what any of this has got to do with anything!"

"And what happened in 1983? Is there anything about a female police officer being killed or dying or…?"

"You want me to check every obituary from 1983?" he replied sarcastically. "Alex, I'm concerned that this is doing you no good whatsoever. Not to mention the fact that this obsession with Gene Hunt and everything from 1981 is upsetting Molly."

Alex was jolted back to reality by his words. "Molly? But…"

"She's so thrilled that you're all right, but all you want to do is talk about things which happened so long ago as to now be meaningless! Not to mention the fact that the longer this strange behaviour continues, the longer you're going to remain in here and the more chance there is of you being committed!"

Alex paused, "I see." Tears filled her eyes as they seemed to be doing so frequently now. "Evan…I'm not crazy…"

"I know you're not," he replied comfortingly, "but you have to stop thinking about this fantasy world, which quite frankly I don't know how you stumbled upon in the first place, and start thinking about getting yourself better so that you can go home."

She knew he was right and later, when he had left, she lay in the gathering dark with everything rolling around in her head. Molly, Evan, Gene, Meg…Daniel…the Alex Drake who died in 1983…Was it possible? Could it be that she had been destined to stay with Gene for another two years before coming back? Had she returned to 2008 prematurely?

"Oh…what does it all mean…?" she mumbled to herself.

"I've heard plenty of people in here ask themselves that." She turned and saw Daniel at the door of her room. "I've even asked it myself a few times." He walked over to the bed and checked her chart. "You seem to be doing well physically, but some of the nurses have expressed concerns about your emotional state."

"I'm fine," she replied as positively as possible, remembering Evan's words of caution, "I'm just wondering when I can go home?"

"Another day or two perhaps," he replied, scribbling something down on the chart. "You have a lovely daughter. She'd get on really well with my boys."

The thought of Molly playing with Gene's grandchildren gave Alex a funny feeling. "When your dad passed away…" She began and then stopped when Daniel's face took on a look of regret. "I'm sorry, would you rather I didn't…"

"No, no," he reassured her, "It's just that I haven't talked about him for so long with anyone who really knew him. My granddad will occasionally talk about the old days, but he has so many regrets of his own that…"

"I understand," she nodded, "All I was going to ask was, when your dad passed away, did he say anything about…anything…?" She wasn't even sure what she was expecting Daniel to tell her, but this connection to Gene was all she had to cling on to.

"We spoke a lot towards the end," he replied, perching on the edge of the bed, "I think he wanted to make up for the time we had missed out on together. He talked about Mum and the past…he talked about her too, the other girlfriend he had I mean," he replied, "but not as much. It was as if it hurt him too much. Even more than losing Mum. I got the impression that…" he paused.

"What?" she prompted him.

"It sounds silly, but I got the impression that there was nothing he was able to do to give himself closure. Unlike Mum, where he was able to put Wallace away, there was nothing he could do for his Alex, or for himself. I think that troubled him a lot. I was with him at the end, you know, and I could have sworn that he said her name as he crossed over."

"Meg?"

"Alex." He smiled. "He's buried next to Mum though, just as I reckon he would have wanted."

After he had gone, Alex's mind drifted back to the conversation she had had with Gene in 1981 on that very subject.

"I went to Meg's grave too."

"Bloody 'ell, you really were sightseeing weren't you?"

"It's a lovely place. For a cemetery, that is."

"Yeah it is."

"Nice and green."

"Yup."

"And open."

"She would 'ave liked it. Meg, that is."

"I'm sure she would."

"I like it there too. Maybe one day I'll be there meself."

"Not thinking of going and dying on me now, are you?"

"Reckon I should be beside 'er, don't you?"

Two weeks later

The library was fairly empty, as it always was, as Alex worked furiously at one of the computers. She had been up since seven, as she was every morning, trawling the Internet at home and writing down her thoughts about this 1983 Alex Drake and how she could find out exactly what had happened to her, before making her daily trip to the local library to see if there was any further information that could help her.

She was still signed off work sick, and would be for some time, and with Molly safely ensconced in school for six hours a day, it gave her the freedom to research and wallow to her heart's content. Every morning, for the past two weeks when she had opened her eyes, she had prayed fervently for the familiar sight of the flat, for the comfort of Gene's arms, for the knowledge that she was going to work in that terribly badly decorated police station. Yet, every morning, she woke in her own bedroom in 2008.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be with Molly. It was entirely the opposite. Having spent so long trying to get back to her daughter, it was wonderful to be with her again. But now she found herself wishing desperately she could simply grab Molly and transport them both back to 1981.

The Internet held plenty of information on Derek Wallace and his crimes. So much in fact that Alex was surprised she had heard little, if anything, of it before her accident. Try as she might, however, there was no real mention of the eleventh kidnap victim. Despite looking through archives of the local papers of the day, there were no pictures, no details, except that she was a woman in her early thirties who had survived, but would rather be kept out of the public eye as a result. Wallace had pled guilty, so there had never been any trial for her to attend.

Then there was 1983. Nothing of any great value. Nothing that told her what had, potentially, happened to herself. It was frustrating, in an age where information was, allegedly, at your fingertips, to find nothing whatsoever.

"I have to go back," she told herself, sitting up straight and easing the tired muscles in her back. "I have to go back and find out what happened to me." How, was the question. She couldn't throw herself off of a roof like Sam Tyler had. There was too much here in 2008, Molly in particular, to risk dying and yet there was also so much nothing. Gene was gone in 2008, no longer a part of her world, but she had to know if she was meant to be a part of his, even if only for a little while. And maybe…just maybe…find a way to prevent her own death in 1983 and stay…

Her stomach grumbled, indicating that it was time to get something to eat. Leaving her corner of the library, strewn with papers, she lifted her bag and made her way to the main entrance, smiling at the elderly librarian as she always did. She was convinced that the woman thought she was completely mad. Ruefully, she thought, perhaps she was.

The air outside was balmy and she made her way down the library steps towards the road to cross over to the local café. Too lazy to go to the zebra crossing, she watched for a break in the traffic and then stepped off of the kerb. Her mobile rang halfway across the road, and, preoccupied with fumbling in her bag to retrieve it, she didn't see the truck bearing down on her. In fact, she didn't see it at all.

There was no pain whatsoever. Only darkness. Darkness slowly fading into light. Silence, slowing fading into sounds. She found herself sitting on damp ground, the cold seeping into her backside, her head between her knees. The world was spinning on its axis, but if she kept her head down, instinctively she knew that it would stop. When it did, she opened her eyes and found herself looking at the ground. She tried to move, but her arms appeared to be tied behind her back and, subsequently, around some other object, making it impossible to move.

"No," she heard herself whisper. She had survived Wallace, had gotten away and survived. She couldn't be back here again. Not in that situation…could she?

"Another fine bloody, sodding, shitting mess!"

Alex's head snapped up and the sight that greeted her was one that made her insides fill with warm, that made the torment of the last few weeks worth it. It was a sight she had longed for, and yet had never dared hoped to see.

"Oh, back with us, Bolly, I see." Gene's expression was one of supreme irritation. "Typical woman to peg out completely at the first sign of bloody danger." He appeared to be in a similar situation, hands tied behind his back.

"Gene…" she breathed, almost unable to believe it was him.

"Save that saucy voice for later when I've got you over me desk," he replied. "Now then, Tyler, 'ow do you propose we get ourselves out of this little pickle?"

Alex turned her head slowly to the left and, to her complete and utter amazement, saw Sam Tyler sat next to her, tied up similarly to Gene and herself and looking extremely pissed off…………

The End...?

So...door left wide open for a sequel then...only if you want one of course ;) Sorry about the truck by the way but I couldn't really think of another way to get her back there!!

Where are Gene, Alex and Sam? Why are they tied up? Why and how is Sam back? Are Gene and Alex destined to be together? Can Alex prevent her own death in 1983? What about 2008 and Molly? Can I ever come up with a story to answer all of these questions??