Unbreakable – An Ashes to Ashes FanFic

Welcome to my depraved, slightly angst ridden, tastefully smutty mind full of plot and intrigue of our favourite characters, Gene Hunt and Alex Drake {sigh}. It took me awhile to figure out how to publish correctly on FanFiction so I've grown braincells and republished properly.

Thanks {love to} to all the FanFictioners who reviewed and wrote to me…it's spurred me on. The story has been polished up, edited ever so slightly and now divided into chapters. Original fans who read the chapter 'Sunday Theory' (the 2nd body discovery and the fat, leering porter) please note that that it's now known as Chapter 12. I've rewarded all of you with the longest Galex date of all time…in Chapter 13. Many more chapters to follow…I may never stop…roll on Season 3 of Ashes to Ashes!!!

My writing usually contains fluff, some slight angst, foul language and tasteful smut of varying detail…enjoy!

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Unbreakable – Chapter 1

This chapter contains plot and sadness.

Hope you like it. Reviews and re-reviews welcome.

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Chris and Ray met Gene and Alex in a shabby run down building located on East London's Commercial Street. The four of them climbed six flights of stairs and then stood at the dead end of the stairway which doubled as storage room and roof exit. The room was dimly lit by a thin vertical window set into a heavy door which opened onto the roof. Disturbed dust particles floated in the weak light, a cord hung from the ceiling but the bulb was broken and probably would not have worked anyway. Ray forced open the door to allow natural light to illuminate the scene. Bundles of cable were coiled on the floor, wooden boxes and oddities from decades past cluttered the strange room. An upturned box served as a crude table which was strewn with putrefied half-opened cans of food, scraps and crumbs of previous meagre meals. On the floor lay numerous empty bottles of whiskey and rum. A bottle of methelated spirit lay upon a mess of dirty bedding. Virtually closed off from the rest of the otherwise tenanted building, no one would have needed to climb the final length of stairs to find the room where Gene and his team now stood nor would care why the strange room was occupied as it was.

They looked down on the sad scene before them—the body of a dead man was sloped against the wall. His eyes were open but dried, blank and sunken, looking downward—looking away from them. The man looked about 60 years of age but with his greyed hair, roughly unshaven appearance and the obviously poor state of health before he died—the living circumstances probably would have aged him considerably beyond his actual years. His grimy clothes looked like they had not been peeled off and washed for months or longer and his thin facial features revealed not just the pallor of death but of years of self neglect, malnourishment and alcoholism.

"Shame that..." Chris began to speak.

"Shut up!" Gene warned.

"Guv, he was an ol' drunk, a layabout…addicted like." Ray explained.

Gene ignored the comments. Speaking quietly he ordered them to arrange the removal of the body. "Call an ambulance an' knock on doors to see if someone 'round here knew 'im."

Ray gave Chris a silent look that perhaps their DCI was not in the mood to banter. Ray nodded in Gene's direction and the two officers turned on their heels and left Gene and Alex alone. Alex kneeled down to have a better look at the dead man and examined some of the belongings.

"Alcohol poisoning I expect is the cause of death, Guv." Alex put her theory forward. "Once the body becomes so malnourished and impoverished the final immense amount of alcohol finally takes its toll on the body and the body shuts down. Terribly sad really." She fingered the labelling on the opened bottle of meths. What do you think happened to this man to make him live here like this?" Alex asked sympathetically.

"No idea Bolly." Gene replied distractedly. Gene's tall broad frame blocked most of the natural sunlight which came in from the open door. He realised this and stepped aside to allow the golden light to wash over Alex and the body. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag into his lungs before he turned to squint into the bright sunlight. He walked out onto the open roof into to clear his head and stand in the warm Autumn sunshine. Quick desperate drags on his cigarette did little to ease his weary mood. Alex watched her DCI take a few moments of quiet contemplation. She knew that finding innocent victims bothered him though he often shrugged off the notion that he actually did care. Alex could see it in Gene's eyes that scenes like this got him down.

Gene stood in the sunlight and surveyed East London's rooftops and listened to the sounds of bustling traffic below. Somewhere in the distance an Underground train screeched along its tracks and sirens blared. Gene took the last drag of his cigarette and then flicked it to the ground.

With her thumbs hooked into the back pockets of her jeans, Alex joined him at the railings which surrounded the roof. She noticed his eyes were missing their familiar glint and his one liners were becoming a rarity these days.

"Strange how someone can be living so sad and lonely in all this hustle and bustle." Alex said as she too surveyed the city scene. Her DCI's mood was downcast and serious because he had already lit a second cigarette and looked tired even though their day had just begun. His mind was at play.

As Gene looked across the rooftops of East London he considered the plight of the homeless man. The man had been living in a cold room atop the roof of a seedy office building, curling up alone every night, in his rat's nest of a bed, drinking to a stupor just to ease the pain of existing. Gene found the image of the man hard to shake. People did not set out to live like unloved animals. Something had gone terribly wrong with this man's life and poor self esteem whittled him down to the nub. His personal circumstances spiralled downwards until dying alone. The homeless man had been discovered by a property agent eyeing up the building for redevelopment. A call had come to Gene's bedside telephone early that morning.

Viv's exact words to his DCI had been: "Guv, a stiff has been found on Commercial Street. Another dead bum by the sounds of things. Poor sod." After ringing off Gene surveyed the bleak emptiness of his bedroom and dragged a hand across his unshaven face before forcing himself to properly wake up and begin his day. Loneliness was beginning to seep in and Gene knew the feeling all too well.

Moving to London had kept him occupied and feeling alive and useful. Gene had set up a new kingdom at Fenchurch East with Chris and Ray at his side. However after the routine of London CID set in, the change of scene was still not enough to distract him from being alone—living alone. Friends came in the form of colleagues and social banter came from familiar cafes and canteens he visited from time to time around the station and his home. Luigi was like a father figure but he had to share him. Gene had an elderly housekeeper who visited once per week and occasionally he would share a cup of tea with her as she hustled and bustled in his kitchen, chastising him about needing a woman.

Leaving the building on Commercial Street, Gene and Alex drove back to CID in virtual silence. From time to time Alex glanced at his profile. His pout was in place but his driving was less enthusiastic, almost compliant to the Highway Code. At a streetlight Alex noticed he eyed an old lady dragging her shopping cart behind her. He tried to sigh silently but Alex picked him up on it. She shifted in her seat to lean closer to him, to stare directly at him questioningly.

"Gene, are you OK? You seem…not yourself."

Gene turned his head to face her for the briefest of moments before the light changed to green. Her hazel eyes were pleading him to open up to her. Her hair and makeup was immaculate. He allowed himself a second to enjoy the familiar smell of her soap and water complexion before turning his eyes back to the road. Instead of answering he nervously ignored her and ran his fingers through his hair, pretending that she might forget that he wanted to ignore her. He rested an elbow on the car door to hold his head against his closed fist as he drove. Alex's leather jacket creaked as she readjusted her position frustratingly, in protest of his silence. She faced forwards in the passenger seat once again. He was falsely rewarded with his silence by a waft of her scent in his direction which was a form of torture to him these days.

Back at the office Alex decided to butt in again. His dejected mood had persisted long enough. When Gene walked over to her desk that afternoon to reluctantly hand the closed file to her on the homeless man he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. The lines under his eyes were deeper than normal.

"You look tired, Guv. You should skip drinks tonight and get some decent food and a good night's sleep." Alex suggested.

Without looking at her directly and only with a slight nod of agreement, Gene returned to his office to slip on his coat and then walked out of CID with barely a glance in the direction of his team.

Alex watched the double doors of CID swing to their final resting position before shifting her attention to Ray and Chris.

"Any idea what is eating the Guv, Ray?" Alex decided to share her concern with her colleagues.

Ray shrugged, "I expect there are things on his mind that we'll never understand. He's a private man. Always has been. Nothing we can do about it really. It's his way."

Gene had marched to the Quattro with his black coat billowing out behind him. He sat down heavily in the driver's seat and griped the wheel. For a moment he considered having a drink in Luigi's but could not face Alex needling him again. His thoughts were beginning frustrate him more and more. He jammed the keys into the ignition and sped off towards home. Alone.

Alex could not help but feel for her DCI. She looked back down at the file on her desk. A homeless man had died alone. Gene was worryingly silent and closed. Her own world had been just as secretive. She had had some brief but mysterious meetings with Martin Summers and each time she met him the more her head spun in confusion about the things that he told her. Memories of Molly seemed to repeat themselves but then at the same time, exact memories were losing clarity. Alex could not understand the reason why she was in this strange 1982 world. It was her burden. Something—she thought—is bothering Gene. Maybe I can't help my own situation but can reach out and help him.