This is my attempt at a cheery Christmas Fic. As you can tell from the first line, it doesn't work out so well...Thanks to Rolephant for the title of this fic and checking it before i posted!

Gene stood at the gravestone, looking on sadly as snow fell around him in the early dawn hours. Alex had fought for days, but finally, she couldn't hang on any longer. Everyone was taking it hard, but no one quite as hard as the man who had shot her. Gene stood, staring blankly at the slab of stone that commemorated her life.

Alexandra Drake
1949-1982
One Moment Can Change A Lifetime

The words carved into the tombstone taunted Gene. If he had been patient instead of giving into his anger, she wouldn't be dead. She would have been at his side in Operation Rose. He wouldn't have been on the run. If Alex could have woken up, she could have saved him. But the problem was, she shouldn't have been in a coma at all. The moment that he shot her had changed his life.

He still was reeling from the fact that he had shot Alex. He had killed the woman he had loved after he had pushed her away. And the worst part was, he was never able to tell her he was sorry. She had stayed in a coma from the day he had shot her, had never been able to come round from the anaesthesia used in the surgery.

Tears burned at the corners of Gene's eyes, but he shed none. He could not lose control here. Ever since the he saw her death noted in the newspaper, he had wanted to cry, but could not. He wanted to get drunk, but he would get caught. It didn't matter now though. He really was a murderer, a cop killer. "Gene Hunt, cop killer," he thought miserably.

He had to find a new place to hide. Chris and Ray knew where he would stay, so all of his normal hiding spots were out of the question. He knew where he had to go.

Gene snuck into Alex's old flat. The air smelled stale, but he swore that the scent of her perfume still lingered in the air. The flat was as messy as it ever was, but the air of neglect proved that no one lived here, no one had entered since the day of the Operation. Gene felt as though if he turned around he would see her. He closed his eyes, remembering her face, the sound of her laugh. They were so close before Operation Rose. She had once called him her constant.

It had all changed the moment he heard the tape. She was speaking into it, attacking him, saying she needed to fight him. Gene didn't understand. If she had called him her constant, then why did she need to fight him? Why did she hate Fenchurch so much if outwardly she seemed to love it?

Gene remembered the day Alex had shown up. He had despaired at having a female be his DI, a posh one at that. She had screamed and yelled, but eventually she worked her way into a level of respect with the team.

Gene sat on the couch feeling more miserable than ever. He turned on the telly, and caught the date before he realised that someone may be able to hear it. What would they think if they heard a voice coming from a dead woman's flat? The date stuck in Gene's head. It was the thirteenth of December. Exactly one month from the day he had shot her.

"It's already been a bloody month." He got up in search of whiskey. There was no alcohol in the flat, a miracle for her, and he couldn't go downstairs to Luigi's. He moved around the flat, looking for something to read. He stopped when he saw a tape sitting on the bookshelf. It was dated November the 12th. The day before Operation Rose. Did he want to listen to this tape? She was most certainly angry at him in this tape. Did he want to hear what she had to say?

Gene sighed. He knew what he had to do. If he didn't listen to it, it would just drive him mad. He pulled a cassette player down from the shelf and stuck the tape in. Closing it, he pressed play. Alex's voice sounded out throughout the room. She sounded as though she had been crying, Gene realised with a pang of sorrow.

"November the 12th. When I first arrived in this world, I thought that these tapes would be the only thing that kept me sane. Now they have ruined everything I have come to love. Gene has heard the tape from the tenth of November. He was angry, and I was suspended.

If Gene thinks that it will keep me away from Operation Rose, he is wrong. I have to get home. I have to get back to you Molly. You are the reason I started making the tapes in the first place. I felt as though I could talk to you as I watched you out of the corner of my eye. You always stood there, never speaking, just looking on.

Now I've forgotten what your face looks like. I know that you had brown hair, but what colour were your eyes? What was your favourite food? The little details that a mother should know have disappeared as I have spent time in this world. I promise you Molly, if getting rid of Summers gets me home, I will spend every possible opportunity to be the mother I should have been. I know I was a workaholic, I even worked on your birthday, and that's what sent me here. I guess I feel guiltier because I have enjoyed it so much.

Molly, if it were not for you, I would not mind staying here. I feel so alive. I guess that's mad coming from a woman in a coma. This world seems so real Molls. When I go home, I don't think I could ever forget the amazing people I have met here.

Shaz is wonderful. I hope to see you turn into a woman like her. She's brighter than half the station combined, and she's only a WPC. I hope that one day she gets promoted to Detective. She certainly deserves it.

Chris and Ray are a pair, I must admit. I do not think one could function without the other. Chris is completely lost mentally half the time, and it's Ray that tells him what everything means. Chris is Ray's best mate. Even though Ray calls Chris names, takes the piss out of him quite often, he needs Chris. I have seen Ray worry about losing his best mate now that Chris is getting married. Luckily, I don't think anything like that will happen.

There is one more man, Molly, one that I wish you could have met. His name is Gene Hunt. He saved me when I was just a child, staring at the car bomb that killed my parents. He protected me. I know I have told you this in tapes previous, but I must mention it again. I always thought he was my constant in this world. I told Summers that this morning when he woke me after he snuck into my flat. He told me that I've only said Gene's name since entering the hospital. I was slightly surprised, but truly, my mind has been occupied with him lately.

I guess in the moments when I question whether 2008 is real or not, I imagine what it would like to be with him. There has been a tension between us since I joined this CID. He made it quite plain that he wanted nothing more than to shag me, and at one point, I was drunk enough to offer myself to him freely. I didn't imagine he would be so chivalrous. He turned me down flat Molls, saying in essence that he wouldn't take advantage of a drunk woman. I think that was the point that I fell in love with him.

Not that it matters now. He hates me. These tapes, my refuge, have just destroyed my constant. I made him angry at me, Molly. He listened to my tape of November the tenth, and it was not one for him to listen to. I talked about fighting him, getting out of Fenchurch. I said I hated it here. He took that to mean I hated him as well.

I saw the hurt in his eyes as he handed me the tape. His face was a mask, but his eyes... Then later tonight, the fight in his office. As I exited he threatened to kill me. He thinks I'm corrupt. If only he knew that just a few weeks ago, Martin Summers offered me a chance in Operation Rose, to get out, but I turned him down. I couldn't become corrupt, not even to go home. I couldn't let Gene down like that. Just a week ago, we discovered that Chris was corrupt. He needed to pay off Shaz's wedding ring. He wanted her to have a good life. Maybe I should have become corrupt. That way at least his accusations, and being suspended would have been based on something. I'm not staying away from the Operation tomorrow Molly. I think Summers is this infection I am supposedly fighting. If I can get rid of him, I can go home. To you.

After I leave, Gene will find out the truth. About how I feel about him at least. Maybe he still will think I'm corrupt. I took the letters back to my flat. They'll investigate it, and they will each receive their letter. And Gene may just burn it. He may not want to bother reading the ramblings of his supposedly corrupt DI. But maybe he will. And then he will find out what I was too scared to ever say to his face. Molly, I promise, tomorrow is the day that something will happen. Operation Rose is my exit route. I will leave this world. I hope to see you soon Molls.

The tape cut off. Gene stared at the cassette player in absolute shock. This tape had proven that she really was mad. She had referenced being in a coma, murdering Martin Summers at Operation Rose, and she had said that she was that little Alex Price. Unless... She had said she was from the future. Gene was immensely confused. Could it be possible that she was telling the truth? It didn't matter if she had now. She was dead, and as he had heard before, dead men (or women) tell no tales. The only way she could tell him anything was if he read her letter to him. She said it was in her flat. Gene looked at the clock. It was just gone noon. He had nothing better to do until darkness descended among the city.

He searched through all the nooks and crannies of her flat. He found nothing. Thinking back to when Mac had overturned her flat, he tried to remember places she had hidden things. Mac had hidden some cocaine in the chimney.

Gene's eyes opened. The chimney! After Alex was acquitted of the corruption charges brought against her by Mac, she may have thought that an ideal hiding spot.

Gene moved over to the chimney, and felt inside. Sure enough, there was a plastic bag, and it felt like envelopes in there. He tugged them down, finally releasing them from the tape that held them in place.

Gene's letter was on top. He opened the bag up, and pulled it out, remembering the day she had handed them out. They were arguing again, and he had said that women couldn't make up their minds.

"Right, you might not have to worry about it for very much longer, because I might be going away."

"What, you looking for a transfer?" Gene didn't want her to transfer. He wanted her with him.

"No, it's, um... it's not that, it's... Well, it's something I, I've wanted, and, er, and it's good. So..."

Alex looked distinctly uncomfortable as she handed out the envelopes.

"So, I've, I've written you all something. Just, you know, just a little, a little something. Just some observations, you know. Bit of advice. Just in case I don't get to say goodbye properly."

"Well, she didn't get to say goodbye properly, did she Gene?" he thought.

"Oh, great," Ray had said.

He started to open the envelope, but Alex stopped him.

"But only if I go. Please. It's, it's important to me."

"Right, come on, you lot. Busy day tomorrow." Gene was confused. But he knew one thing. Alex wasn't going anywhere if he could help it.

Gene remembered his thoughts in anguish. He had caused her to leave. He made her go away permanently. He had killed her.

With trembling hands he opened his letter. Her neat script covered the page.

Gene,

I am writing this in case I do not get to say goodbye. I so dearly want to stay with you, but I have Molly I have to go back to. Before I came to this world, I was not a good enough mother. When I return to her, I have to prove I can be a good mother.

I said this was advice to the others in the group of CID, and to them, their letters were advice. Yours is a bit different. First off, I know that you take advice from no man, or woman for that matter. I wrote this to you for another matter entirely.

I was never brave enough to say this to your face Gene. I love you. I do not know if you feel the same way about me, but I know how I feel about you. I have seen you drunk, sober, kind, rude, chauvinistic, chivalrous, and all the other moods you seem to go through. You affect more people than your realize Gene. You turned my life around when I came to Fenchurch. You changed my ways of thinking, the way I handle things. You helped me to realise who I really was. You saved me more times than you know, a few times from certain death. I can't thank you enough Gene.

The only thing I have left to say is not to miss me. I do not know if I have just disappeared like Sam did when he went to get help, or if something else has happened to me. All I know Gene, is that if you are reading this, I am gone, and I am where I want to be, with Molly. I am where I need to be, together with her. Forever.

I will never forget you Gene, and shall always love you.

Alex

Gene stared at the letter. This was worse than the tape. Her appreciation of him. She said she loved him. She was thankful to him. How did he do anything? He called her names, degraded her from the moment she walked through the doors of Fenchurch East. As Gene stood in her flat, shaking, he knew what he had to do. He had to turn himself in, and suffer for the rest of his life.

Gene stepped quietly outside the restaurant, and made his way to CID. The snow was falling more heavily now. It stuck to his black coat, settled in his hair. Gene did not feel like brushing it off, and continued to walk. There were few people on the streets, but the Christmas decorations in the streets and windows glistened brightly. It seemed as if the world was mocking him. Alex would never see another Christmas, while the next one he would see would be from the inside of a jail cell. Gene knew how cops were treated in jail. There was a good chance he might be unconscious for most of it.

He reached the station and stood, staring at the building he had come to love over the past few years. He had been drowning until Alex had shown up, drinking himself to death over the loss of Sam. She had made him stop. Not by telling him to, but by becoming his companion. She had made him feel less alone.

"And I bloody shot her."

"Gene Hunt! Put your hands up and drop your weapon." A man Gene did not know stood on the steps leading into the station. Gene slowly reached down to retrieve his gun. As his hand touched the barrel, a shot rang out. He felt the bullet rip through his abdomen.

Ray watched as Gene stumbled over, grabbing his stomach, his facial expression exactly like Alex's was a month ago.

"Guv! No!" Ray ran over to Gene, and held him, just as Gene had held Mac when he was dying. Gene looked up, and his eyes focussed on Ray.

"Ray..." he strained. His face was stoic, but his eyes betrayed his pain.

"Guv, don't talk, the ambulance is on its way. You'll be fine."

Gene attempted a laugh, but only was able to give a grunt of pain.

"No... Just...like her..." Gene was gripping his stomach now, the scarlet of blood leaking through his hands onto his blue shirt and jeans, collecting in a puddle on the ground.

"What?" asked Ray, his voice trembling.

"I'm...gonna die...just...like her."

The ambulance approached as Gene's eyes closed and he went limp in Ray's arms. The medics loaded Gene onto the ambulance and it sped off. Ray turned to face his new DCI.

"Why did you do that? He wasn't a threat!"

"He was reaching for his gun," the DCI stated calmly.

"Yeah, cause you told him to drop it!"

"DS Carling, I did what I thought was best under circumstances. Now go home and get changed. You're covered in blood."

Ray left the scene, tears in his eyes, his back turned to the snow slowly covering the patch of crimson left on the ground.

The trio stood around the pair of graves. Alex's headstone now had a companion. They looked on miserably at the new headstone.

Gene Hunt

1936-1982

If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape one hundred days of sorrow.

Gene hadn't even fought. He had emerged from the surgery and died later that night. Ray had thought a lot since the DCI had shot the Guv. He thought about Gene's last words.

"I'm gonna die just like her."

Indeed, he did die just like Alex had. He had been shot by a DCI in the stomach, with half the station unsure about him. There were still those in Fenchurch loyal to him, like when he and Alex had the row the day before Operation Rose, there were people in Fenchurch who still were loyal to her.

The snow that had been falling for the past several days had finally stopped. The sky was bright and sunny, the cheer of Christmas a mockery of what they were feeling. The normal Christmas Eve celebration at Luigi's had been cancelled in lieu of all that had happened in the past month. Instead, Ray, Chris and Shaz had come out here while the rest of CID went home to their families.

Shaz sniffed. Tears were running down her face. Chris looked at her, then his watch and then at Ray. "We gotta go mate. Gotta get up to Manchester."

"Yeah," said Ray. "Have fun."

"Thanks." Putting his arm around Shaz's waist, the two walked out of the cemetery. Ray stood staring at the pair of graves for a moment. He suddenly realised, they were finally together. They may not have died together, but now they lay next to each other for the rest of time.

Ray got ready to leave. He looked back once on the two slabs of stone, covered still in snow. A tear fell down his cheek. "Happy Christmas," he muttered to them. The stones didn't say anything back, but Ray knew, wherever the Guv was now, he would be happy.