Dawn was approaching by the time Alex's sobs quietened, the room soft and sombre now in the grey light. The silence of an impasse was heavy in Gene's lungs, his arms almost limp around Alex's frame as he breathed in the scent of her hair, eyes closed. There were words festering beneath his tongue, apologies and promises and questions, all sincere, all useless. He had failed her. She had needed him, more than ever, and he had been nursing his jealousy and rejection like the stubborn git he always was when it came to her.

"I'm sorry, Bols," he finally whispered against her temple, lips lingering there as though trying to re-establish a connection. The guilt was burning him through his insides and he swallowed, opening furious eyes. "Did…did he hurt you, Alex?"

Taking a sharp breath in, Alex stirred against his chest and lifted her head to meet his gaze. She shook her head, and her voice sounded smaller than he had ever heard it. "I had no choice, Gene, he…he was going to… I didn't have a choice, I agreed, it was…"

A hard look came into Gene's eyes, guilt boiling now with rage. "Answer the question, Alex. Did he hurt you?"

Alex swallowed, her breathing shaky. She reached for the neck of her jumper, hesitated, and then pulled it aside. It took Gene a while to see through the grey light that came dimly from the window but as his eyes narrowed small bruises showed themselves against the paleness of her skin, a few red angry marks scattered across her collarbone. Alex's gaze was fixed unseeing on the opposite wall.

"Where else?"

Alex felt her hands shaking as she moved to lift the hem of her jumper just far enough to show bruises left by fingers that had gripped too tight across her hipbones. "Here," she murmured, moving her hands to her upper thighs, "and here."

Gene let out a long sigh and swallowed against the tirade rising against his lips. She didn't need his outrage or his hatred. Gathering her to him again, he pressed his lips to her forehead, her hairline, her temple, apologies losing themselves amongst laboured breathing and fearful heartbeats.

"I'm so sorry, Alex."

After what felt like endless silence, Alex sighed and shifted away from him once more. One hand found its way to his jaw, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Why didn't you want to listen, Gene? Why wouldn't you believe me?"

"I…" The usual excuses came by instinct to Gene's lips but he let them dissolve into silence. "There's…there's no excuse, Bols. You don't 'ave to forgive me. Won't blame you if you don't. You trusted me and I didn't repay that."

"We have to trust each other, Gene. We don't work without that, not in any capacity, not professionally, not…personally. Otherwise, what's the point?"

He could see some of the life returning to her again, the spirit of the Alex Drake he knew beginning to return to her face.

"I know, Bols. I know. If you want me to leave, I will. And…if you want to…you know, leave Fenchurch, then…I'll understand."

"Gene, what?" Alex's eyes flew open wide, her right hand coming up to mirror her left on the other side of his face. "How could you say… Why would I want to leave? You're… " Her voice softened, the effort of a smile just hinting on her lips. "You're all I have, Gene, goddamn you."

Gene looked taken aback. "But, Bols, you – I…"

Alex shook her head again and brushed one thumb affectionately across his cheek. "We're a mess, Gene. It's all a mess, everything… It was all falling apart and just when I thought I'd put it back together you tore it up again and you're right, no-one would blame me if I didn't forgive you for that, but…"

"But?"

"But you admit when you're wrong, Gene, you… it eats you up, I can see it like I've seen it before. You're a good man and I still believe that. Keats is and always was the enemy here, not you. We'll move on from this, and the team… it'll be like it was before, Gene. Maybe even better. I'll be okay."

"Alex, he hurt you. He forced you to – "

She shut her eyes tight. "I know what he did. I'm not saying I'm fine with it because – " she cut off, hearing the tremor of tears in her voice again. Taking a deep breath and opening her eyes, she began again. "I'm not saying I'm okay, Gene. I'm saying I will be okay. We will be okay."

Slowly, Gene nodded. "Nobody's going to touch you again, Bols. I can promise you that. I won't let them."

"They'll have to go through the great Gene Genie first?"

He rested his forehead against hers, breathing her in. "Something like that."

There was silence for a moment, then Alex whispered: "Are you scared? Of…this, I mean. Us?"

A chuckle surprised both of them and Gene pressed his lips to her forehead again, fighting a smile. "Terrified." He grew serious again. "Are you sure, Alex, about this? Don't know how you can be, after what I've done… Christ, Bols, I treated you like - "

"You stayed," Alex cut him off, pushing her fingers into his hair. She smiled. "There was a time when you'd have left, but you stayed when I told you to leave. That's enough."

Shaking his head, Gene pressed his lips to hers. It was chaste and short, not at all what either of them had imagined their first kiss might be, but Alex found she didn't care.

"You know this is it then, don't you?" she asked, pulling away from him. "I'm not going home, and Keats can't touch us anymore. You're stuck with me and I'm stuck with you. And it's going to be messy and complicated and we're still going to be stubborn and hurt and swear we hate each other sometimes. You have to be on board with that, Gene. We have to be honest with each other. There has to be trust."

For a moment Gene just looked at her, drank in the resolution in her eyes, the slight tremor at the corner of her lips that hinted at fear and doubt, the simultaneously guarded and open way she gazed back at him. He wondered who in the universe had dreamt up Alex Drake, her light and her dark, the harsh and gentle extremities beneath her skin.

"I'm on board, Bols," he said finally. "So long as you're sure you want to be stuck with me."

Alex sighed, relief and tension uncoiling in a single breath as she gave him a small smile. "Stuck at the end of the world with Gene Hunt," she mused. "It could be a lot worse."

"Cheeky mare."

"Arse."

I admit I struggled with writing this, which I can only blame myself for because I shouldn't have left it for so long - I can only apologise for the lateness of this chapter and for it probably not being quite up to scratch I don't know... I hope it's okay and I'm so sorry it's taken almost a month to get finished. Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, and to those of you who wished me luck for results day - I'm so happy to say I did even better than I dared to hope and I'm off to Cambridge in a few weeks! Sorry again about the delay and thank you all for reading!

Eleanor :)