Disclaimer: I do not own Ashes to Ashes ... *sigh*

I have been writing, re-writing and re-writing the re-written for just under two months and now here it is! I hope that you enjoy =D

For those who read my ongoing Fic 'Let me go' I send my deepest apologies for my lack of updates, but I can tell you that one is on its way =D

Finally, I will respond to reviews - you guys rock!

He looked up at the clock that hung lazily within his office, the second hand ticking robotically, its tiny sound thumping within his head as if it were a hammer knocking away at his skull. He focused his eyes and swore when he read the time. His fist collided with the solid wood of his desk, but rage had filled him so fiercely that he didn't feel any pain nor did he realise that all eyes within CID were on him, watching sadly as his anger escaped. He breathed deeply, but it didn't help, nothing could help him, not now.

He had believed that today would be the day, like he had believe every day before this one that she would walk through those double doors and back into his life dressed in that white leather jacket, her dark hair fashionably curled and wearing that smile that he missed dearly. He had believed that today would be the day that everything would go back to the way it was, the way it had been before this, before that night.

However, looking up at the clock Gene knew that it wouldn't be today, nor would it be tomorrow or the next day or the next day or the next day. He was beginning to believe that perhaps that day would never come and that his life as it was now would never change and he would have to live with this heart breaking disappointment every minute of his life. This thought tore him apart. He physically felt as if lions were tearing away at his insides, destroying him and leaving a sad empty shell.

He stood up and paced silently, still all eyes in CID staring at him in silent shock. They had all seen him look at the clock every day and swear when he realised the time, they had all seen him punch his desk in momentary fury, but never once had they seen him stand, never had he taken any kind of action. Everybody stopped and every eye in the room followed him as they watched and waited for his next move.

The questions that swirled within his mind tormented his soul. He had done this to her and he knew it, there wasn't a single day that went by that he didn't think about what he had done and how it had destroyed her as well as him. He would give everything he owned just to be able to steal that second back from time and save her soul along with his breaking one.

But he couldn't. He couldn't.

He lashed out in anger and kicked his metal bin, causing it to bend inwards as it sped across the room colliding with the opposite wall.

The whole department was silent; the only sound was Gene's rapid breathing.

His eyes found his clock yet again and his anger bubbled, "Fuck this" grabbing his coat Gene stormed from his office and through the sea of on looking faces. It would be today he told himself, he would personal see to it.

***

The cold air had whipped at his face as he had stood amongst the bodies of corrupt police officers, some battered and defeated cowering on the floor while others were still desperately trying to plead their innocence. The sight had sickened him; these were the men that he worked alongside, whom he had given his respect freely and to think that he had once thought of these men as his brothers repulsed him. He remembered his speech to Scarman only last year about how they were unbreakable and as he had absorbed the scene that had been in front of him he didn't know whether to laugh or beat the crap out of somebody.

But he would have much rather have been standing there, then knelt here holding this man in his arms for what they both knew were his last few seconds on this earth. Just another corrupt office Gene knew he was, but underneath it all he just a man who had been dragged, unwillingly, into the world of corruption. He had heard him say it himself.

"When I joined the force, I believed Alex. They took that away from me"

But he had to shot him.

He had no other choice.

He was going to shot his Bolly, there was no other option.

Now, as he looked down upon his face he took pity on him. He knew that he shouldn't because men like him was the reason behind everything he had been fighting against, but he could see that he was sorry, and that was good enough. "D'yer remember? Young copper, ready t'put the world t'rights. Y'were spick and span and very proud, y'remember that? 'Old onto that thought, it's a good 'n"

He felt as he exhaled for the last time, his eyes flickered shut and his body sagged under the weight of death. He couldn't take his eyes off him. He was sure that he had seen this man before. He looked so familiar, but where?

Before he could question anymore he heard a yelp of fear escape Alex along with the crack of a gun, disturbing the stillness of the air. Within a second he was holding his gun at his side ready to shot the woman whom he had shared a night with only a few hours previous, the woman who was now holding a gun to his Bolly's head.

"I don't believe this, where's me bleedin' money?"

"It's over Jeannette, whatever he offered you to get between us, it was all a lie. T's over love. Let her go"

He raised his gun and positioned it, tightening his grip as his eyes pierced those of Jeannette, her eyes filled with hate and anger.

Then something happened within that common sense lacking, psycho-bollocks filled brain of Drake's as she began shouting "Just do it!" and like the bloody impatient woman she was had taken it amongst herself to break free with a sharp elbow into Jeanette's stomach, causing her to fire, which then in turn caused Gene to accidentally pull the trigger on his gun whilst ducking from her bullet.

Then, he looked up to see a crouching Jeannette running, while his Bolly was clasping her side, faced mixed with shock and pain as slowly the colour drained from her rose coloured cheek to a very painful white.

Unbreakable he had said and yet throughout all the corruption and mistrust it had been him who had severed the final tie between them with a bullet, it had been his gun that had pierced her smooth skin with his bullet, it had been him...

His mind couldn't take it in, refused to. He just stood in disbelief until she began to drop to the floor. His mind began screaming a thousand words, but he didn't have time to listen to them, only one thought got through.

"Bolly"

He walked over to her and stood and watched as the blood began to seep through her shirt, through her fingers and onto her jacket that she wore so often.

He couldn't move. Didn't want to move, because he knew if he moved to her and held her in his arms he would say his goodbyes and she would never return to him. He wouldn't let that happen, not if there was air left in his lungs. He wouldn't take her in his arms no matter how much he ached to do so because he knew that everybody he held within his arms had died, whether he cared if they did or not, but they always did; Sally, Harry Woolf, the copper of whom was only a mere few meters from him and he would not do it to her, he wouldn't.

He stared down at her and felt a wave of nausea as a memory rose to the surface "I'm doin' this without you, and if yer dare t'get in my way I swear to God I will kill you" he continually stared at her unaware of his team joining his side one by one, looking from Drake to his smoking gun that was still placed firmly in his hand.

He hadn't killed her. No, there was no way his Bolly would be defeated that easily, it would take a whole lot more than one lousy bullet to take her off his hands, his mind shouted desperately. Despite thinking this Gene couldn't believe it and as he saw her eyes slowly flicker close he had to use everything that was left of him to stop himself from to collapsing to the floor.

"Bolly?" his voice was as small as a whisper and he felt his eyes begin to burn, but he couldn't take his gaze off her.

"Bolly?" It was as if this was the only word he was able to say and the he felt it; the first tear fall, leaving a glistening trail down his cheek.

***

He stormed up the stairs harvesting an almost animal like anger; his body hot from rage, his vision blurred and his fists clenched. He hadn't been up these steps in almost three months, but this thought never crossed his mind, his mind was too busy trying to keep his borderline rage under control.

Upon reaching her door he was trembling and when he spoke his voice quivered "Drake!" It had been a long time since he had called her that.

His fist collided with the door and it was surprising that he didn't pull it from its hinges.

"Drake, open this bloody door!"

He listened for any sound of movement, not that he expected any, Luigi had been keeping Gene updated on how much alcohol a day she was consuming and he would be surprised if she was conscious let alone able to walk to the door. Still, he listened and stupidly hoped for her to open the door to him looking ready to join him in his quest in removing the scum from the streets of London. However, he heard nothing and this only made his anger worse.

He thumped the door three more times. Loud, sharp bangs.

"I know yer in there, now open-this-door-Drake, before I open it for yer"

Again he was greeted with silence, his imprisoned fury finally broke free and he lost control "DRAKE OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR" his mind swirled and all he could see was red.

His only thought was to see her and let her see what she was doing to him, how she was the reason for his breakdown. He took a step backwards and braced himself for impact; lifting his leg he put every ounce of what was left of himself into kicking the door down and allowing him access to the woman of whom had turned his life upside down and inside out.

The wood splintered and the door flew inwards, without any hint of doubt he entered the familiar apartment. It was suddenly as if he was walked into his mind which held his most treasured memories; he began seeing flashing images of the many nights he had spent up here, drinking away the good and bad times with her, just them in a world that didn't revolve around the shit that was the streets of London.

Returning to reality he stood and listened, but heard nothing. A slight twinge of panic sparked through him. Where is she? He began pacing through the apartment, treading over empty wine bottles, plenty of dirty glasses and all the other shit that had been thrown unmercifully onto the ground. It was hard to find a piece of carpet that wasn't covered by something or that had some kind of alcohol stain across it.

He walked through the front room.

The kitchen.

The bedroom.

Then he found her, curled up on her bathroom tiles asleep in nothing more than an old shirt, shivering from the cold. The air within this tiny space was stale and heavy and beside her sat two empty bottles of wine. The sight repulsed him. He thought that having a near death experience was meant to make a person embrace life and live it to the full, but no, not for her, it had had the complete opposite effect.

He shook his head and swore under his breath. This wasn't his Bolly, never would she let something so minor as a bullet plunge her into this kind of state.

She looked like a child, her small frame drowning in the large shirt, her face blotchy and without make-up, her hair unattained. He growled quietly as he walked towards her, his shadow covered her completely as he bent down to pick her up. Her body as loose as a rag doll as he gently moved her from the tiles and into the warm comfort of her bed.

She stirred lightly "Molly, I'm sorry... Molls... I'm coming, coming back to you" she twisted slightly as if in a bad dream and all the rage that Gene had been holding onto disappeared as he lightly perched himself on the edge of her bed, careful not to wake her.

"What's 'appened ter you Alex?"

I hope that you enjoyed it and would love to hear your views! TBC...