This is dedicated to the people who still read my fics. And to those that encourage me to continue writing.

Thanks to 5A7AH who sort of inspired this (indirectly).

She turned away from him, playing the last few moments over in her mind.

"Go."

He had told her to go. He had finally released her from the time she had wanted to be free of. There was only one small problem. He hadn't let her go back to Molly. In the real world, in 2008, she was dead, and probably already buried, if the vision of her being in a coffin was anything to go by.

"Way of the world Alex. She'll be fine."

How could Molly be fine? Alex hadn't been fine after her mother had been killed. She had grown up hard to the world, falling in love with all the men that broke her heart. Alex didn't want to have Molly go through that heartbreak. If only she had fought harder. Maybe then she would be with Molly, she'd be able to help Molly through the difficult times in her life.

A wave of guilt poured over her. She had all but forgotten about her little girl. She had forgotten that she had something to fight for. But, Alex reasoned with herself, she had had nothing to fight for ever since Gene Hunt had slapped her out of her coma. She had been dead since that very second her eyes opened in 1983.

9:06. The time of her death. The time she left Molly permanently on her own, motherless. When she had done the same thing to Evan that her parents had done him. She had given him an orphan. Another girl he would have to guide through her teenage years.

If only she hadn't gotten caught up in the eighties. Maybe if she had become corrupt, she could have gone home to Molly. Summers had said that was her way out. Instead, she'd just gotten an infection. She had died as a result.

Why couldn't there be do-overs? She would have gone home with Molly. The stack of reports could have waited. There was nothing urgent in any of them. Instead, she had shoved her daughter aside, leaving her forever.

"My baby."

She had left her baby. All because of a stack of reports.

She had turned into the same workaholic that her mother had been. Had Alex shown Molly that she had loved her? Alex had always attempted to show Molly the love she had never felt from her mother, but she really wished she could know if she had been successful.

But now, how could she be successful at proving it? She had left her. She had tried her hardest, but Gene had refused to let her go, refused to release her from his clutches.

Alex felt a growing resentment toward Gene. He had kept her from her daughter, he had refused to let her get back, and now he sent her away. How could he? Alex was tempted to turn around and smack him or punch him like she had done in the past, but decided against it, continuing to walk towards the door to the pub that was growing closer at an alarming rate. The strains of Life on Mars grew louder and louder as she approached, and she was able to hear laughter from the occupants inside now. This was it. This was her chance to get away from the world she had originally hated.

But now she wanted to stay. She had grown to love it so much in this time. The fashions were crazy, the music wonderful, and the people amazing. Alex had fallen in love with the simplicity of it all. She had grown used to the four BBC channels and life without iPods. She didn't need a computer anymore. She loved clearing the streets of "cockney scum and filth" as Gene had so often referred to it. She loved the team she did it with. And most of all, she had loved the Guv. She wanted to stay with him, to see if they could make the relationship work.

But he had sent her away. With a few simple sentences, he had told her she wasn't wanted anymore. He was finished with her as his DI. She should have known that he didn't care about her as much as she had about him. He was, in essence, still that 19-year-old bobby. He was still too in love with himself at that age, something that had carried over into this world.

The world of the dead and dying.

The world to which she belonged.

The world of which he was now forcing her out.

Her hand touched the handle. This was it. Should she turn around and give Gene a small smile? A wave?

But why? Those were both signs of reassurance. Why did she need to reassure him of anything? He didn't love her. He had just wanted a shag. That kiss, it had been goodbye. And he didn't even attempt to kiss her. It was her that had to kiss him. Sure he had responded, but that was only natural.

But maybe she should turn around. What if he wanted her back? If he was just too afraid to call her? If she turned around and looked at him, maybe she would see a plea in his eyes, to beg her to come back to him.

Even as she hoped, she knew it would never happen. Gene Hunt begged no one, especially posh birds. He did whatever he damn well pleased and didn't give a flying fuck about the consequences. He'd demand, he'd go and do it after someone said no, but he would never ever beg.

Alex inhaled deeply, her hand on the cold metal. Just two seconds more and she'd go in.

She slowly opened the door, waiting to hear his voice, demanding her to return to his side.

The voice didn't come. Bitterly disappointed, Alex stepped in the pub, quietly closing the door behind her.

It was all over. She was dead. She'd never see her baby again. And the man she loved had turned her away with a single word.

"Go."

Rant