A/N: I know, I know: we've got more Rachel/Gill hurt/comfort stories than we know what to do with. I was honestly trying to write the next chapter of Without Her, but I had half of this written from ages ago and I couldn't resist finishing it. It's quite pointless, really, but given the way Gill behaved towards Rachel throughout episode 2, I like to think that it's something that might have happened. Because I love their sort of mentor/protégée relationship. The bit in italics is taken from the end of the episode, and the idea behind this fic is that when Gill says that, it's because she was there for this. Please R&R! L x

"Been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, haven't you?"

She was the only one to notice that Rachel wasn't herself at the wedding. But then, she was the only one who knew how hard recent events had really hit her. The only one Rachel had allowed to see. The only one who'd been able to help.

Half past midnight and Gill Murray was, as usual, the last person in Syndicate 9's office. It didn't usually bother her, working late, but tonight she was tired. It had been a hell of a day. Rachel had come into the office, full of trepidation, and Gill had had to tell her carefully and clearly about the CPS not pressing charges, but also about the Police Complaints Commission hearing. She'd tried to do it gently, tried to reassure her, tried to distract her with talk of the wedding. Rachel had smiled when she'd told Gill the date, but Gill hadn't been convinced that it was genuine happiness and not just desperation for something to go right.

When she'd left, Janet had gone with her for a few minutes, obviously wanting to know what had happened. Gill waited patiently until Janet got back and reported that she thought Rachel was more upset than she was letting on and that, as far as Janet could tell, Rachel planned to go home to Sean and try to throw herself into the wedding plans until she knew whether or not she still had a job. Janet had sighed and said that she'd pop by Rachel's the next day to check up on her. Gill had agreed, trying to keep her expression neutral, concentrating on her internal battle with herself not to get down to the Police Complaints Commission's headquarters and personally bollock every single one of its employees, however senior or otherwise they may be.

The rest of the day had passed sombrely. They were still a team lacking one of its members, and Gill knew she wasn't alone in wondering how Rachel was coping with this latest blow, this latest example of disloyalty from the system she had given so much to. Gill hoped that Sean was doing his job and looking after his fiancée. Her late-night paperwork session in particular had dragged, and it was shortly after Janet had left that she'd decided to pack up and call it a day.

She was just putting her coat on when her extension rang. Confused, wondering who would be calling at this time, Gill answered it.

"Hello?"

"DCI Murray, there's someone to see you in reception."

Gill was confused. Who on earth would be wanting to see her at this time who couldn't just ring her? Apprehensive, worried that it might be Dave trying to trick her into talking to him, she replied somewhat tentatively, "who?"

There was muffled talking at the other end.

"Says his name's John, apparently he runs the pub over the road."

"The Grapes?" Gill replied, brow furrowed.

"Yeah."

"Can you ask him to wait a minute? I'm just leaving anyway."

"Okay, sure," answered the security guard. Gill heard a click as he hung up and she did too, perplexed. Full of curiosity, she threw her coat on, grabbed her handbag and a couple of files and hurried down to reception to see what John wanted.

Barely two minutes since the phonecall, she was buzzing herself through the door into reception. John stood near the security guard's desk, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"'Evening," Gill said coolly, trying not to think about how many times this man had seen her pissed. "What's up?"

"DCI Murray..."

"Gill," she corrected him. He nodded.

"Gill."

She raised her eyebrows, wondering why he seemed to be beating about the bush.

"I've, er..." he began, with a shifty glance towards the security guard and an apologetic one towards Gill, "I've had one of your lot in my pub all evening, and I wouldn't mind but she's drunk herself under the table and I can't get her to leave. I'm wanting to close now though, I mean..." he trailed off, shrugging.

Gill closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't need to ask who.

"Why did you let her get into that state?" she demanded, glaring at him.

"I'm not always working on the bar," he said defensively, "and I reckon she might have been drinking before she arrived."

"And what time was that?"

"Early evening, I think."

Early evening. What had Rachel been doing up until then? Why had she come back? What had happened to make her so much more upset? And where the hell was Sean? Her thoughts whirling, Gill nodded.

"I'll come and take her off your hands. Can you wait a moment while I just dump all this in my car?" She gestured to her files.

John nodded, looking relieved at the idea of finally being able to close for the night. Gill hurried out to her car and back as quickly as she could, concern quickening her pace. She hoped Rachel hadn't had a dangerous amount to drink. A night in A&E wasn't top of her list of favourite things to do out of hours.

It wasn't long before she was following John across the road and into the Grapes, a little apprehensive as to what kind of a state she would find Rachel in. She hoped that she wasn't crying. Gill wasn't very good with criers, never had been.

They entered the pub and John pointed her towards a table tucked away in a corner. Gill could make out a figure slumped across the table, hair spilling out over her arms, an empty bottle of wine lying on its side, resting against her head. Gill pursed her lips. It was embarrassing to be in this position, but at the same time her heart went out to Rachel. She hated to think of her drinking herself into a stupor, gazing out of a window towards the workplace she loved so much.

John went behind the bar and began quietly tidying up, leaving Gill to approach Rachel cautiously. Moving the bottle of wine to a different table in case Rachel knocked it off her own, Gill knelt down beside her chair and touched Rachel's knee lightly.

"Rachel?" she asked. No response.

"Rachel." A bit louder, voice laced with concern. Worried that she'd had more than too much.

Rachel twitched slightly, and Gill thought she heard a dismissive mumble.

"Sorry, cock, I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. "You've outstayed your welcome."

"Mhmm," Rachel grumbled, burying her head further in her arms, hiding her face completely with her hair.

Sighing, with an apologetic grimace towards John, Gill reached out and gently pushed Rachel's hair back off her face. She screwed her eyes up, flapping one arm, trying to bat Gill's hand away.

"Rachel." Gill placed two fingers lightly on Rachel's right cheek and pressed, encouraging her to face her.

"Come on," she cajoled, "I'm gonna drive you home."

Rachel shook her head ever so slightly and rested her forehead on her arms again. Gill tilted her own head down, trying to make eye contact with her. Saw a tear escape from behind one of her closed eyelids.

Gill sighed again and knelt back up, wondering how to deal with this. John was waiting patiently at the bar and she knew she needed to get Rachel out of here and get her home. The problem was, though, that she really didn't seem to want to go home.

"Rachel?" she tried again. "Rachel, I need you to come with me. The pub's closing; you can't stay here." Getting desperate, she pasted a smile on her face and said in a would-be-jolly voice, "won't Sean be waiting for you?"

She was still shaking her head slowly, her shoulders trembling. Gill resisted the urge to tell John to sod off and hug her.

"He'll be wondering where you are..." she said gently, eyeing up Rachel's pocket, wondering where her phone was. It looked like Rachel was so pissed she couldn't remember where Sean was – if she even remembered who he was, or who anyone was.

"You're in no fit state to go home on your own." Gill stated slowly, making a split second decision and hoping it wouldn't backfire on her: "I think you should come back to mine for the night where I can keep an eye on you. Sammy's away with his mates for a few days so it'll be just you and me. Yes?"

For a moment there was no response, then Rachel nodded, almost imperceptibly, but enough to consent to Gill's suggestion.

Relieved, Gill took hold of Rachel's arm, under her elbow, helping her to stand up. Gill rose gratefully from her uncomfortable kneeling position, pulling Rachel up with her as she went, but Rachel didn't seem to have any concept of standing on her own two feet.

"How much have you had to drink?!" Gill muttered, placing her other arm around Rachel's waist and pulling with all her might. Eventually, they were both standing up, an oblivious Rachel sagging against her panting boss. Slowly but surely, they made their way towards the door.

"Sorry," Gill mouthed at John as they passed him. Then she paused and whispered, "thanks for coming over and not just leaving her out on the street."

John smiled tiredly. "Look after her," he said, nodding towards Rachel, his expression sympathetic.

Gill nodded, giving him a quick wave as she helped Rachel to stagger through the door. The journey across the road and round the back of the police station seemed to take years – Rachel was practically a dead weight, and Gill was smaller than her. She transferred her inebriated DC's weight from her own shoulder to her car while she fished about for the keys, but Rachel seemed to have other ideas. She lunged away from the expensive car, falling over in the process, and crawled towards the drain in the gutter of the car park. Gill realised what was happening immediately and dropped to her knees beside Rachel, hurriedly gathering all her hair and holding it back with one hand, the other lightly rubbing her upper back, as Rachel emptied her stomach of the poison she'd put into it during the course of the night. Gill wrinkled her nose, torn between disgust and wanting to look after her.

When Rachel's gagging finally ceased and her dry retches turned to equally dry sobs, Gill helped her to sit back, leaning against the wheel of her car, and wordlessly offered her a tissue. While Rachel wiped her mouth uncoordinatedly, Gill quietly had a rummage in her boot and produced a bottle of water, which she gave to Rachel to rinse her mouth out and rehydrate herself with.

"Come on, kid," she said gently, once she was reasonably sure that Rachel wasn't going to be sick again. "Into the car."

Rachel nodded, making more of an effort this time to stand up. She still wasn't exactly with it, but Gill could tell that getting rid of some of the booze had sobered her up a little bit. She opened the passenger door and helped Rachel get in, noticing as she did so that her teeth were chattering. Gill went again to her boot and retrieved an old picnic blanket that had been in there since she'd first bought the car and under which she sometimes got a couple of hours' kip in her office when there was a big case on. She wrapped it around Rachel to warm her up, then sat herself down in the driver's seat and started the engine, while Rachel rested her head against the window, apparently struggling to keep her eyes open.

As she drove, Gill reflected upon the unfairness of life. She knew that Rachel had behaved recklessly, unprofessionally even, with regards to Nick Savage, but a PNC and a tenuous bargain were hardly enough to merit Rachel's being wrongly investigated for murder when, really, she was the victim. She glanced sideways at Rachel and sighed, wishing she could do more to help, wishing she were senior enough to declare Rachel completely innocent and be heeded, no questions asked. Gill could only hope that her reputation would assist her on this one when she pledged Rachel's non-involvement. She hoped to God that nobody would find out about Rachel's drunken incident and especially about her staying at Gill's house. If Rachel was seen to be some sort of alcoholic and Gill was seen to be too personally involved to give a fair account of her character, then there was much more a chance that things wouldn't go the way they were hoping. It was too late now though; Rachel had been drunk for hours with who knew how many witnesses, and Gill had made the decision to take her home because, really, what other option did she have?

The roads were quiet, and it wasn't long before Gill was pulling into her drive. Rachel stirred from her doze and lifted her head from its uncomfortable position resting against the window, rubbing her forehead as she did so. She looked somewhat worse for wear. Her skin was pale and clammy, her pupils dilated and Gill could visibly see her hands shaking.

Quickly and quietly, while Rachel was still coming to, Gill slipped out of her car, retrieved her bag and files from the boot, opened the front door and slung them unceremoniously onto a chair in the hallway. Then she went back out the front to collect Rachel, this time merely offering her a helping hand rather than hauling her bodily from the vehicle, trying to help her regain a little of her dignity. She smiled shakily, gratitude visible behind the pain in her eyes.

"Straight upstairs," Gill ordered as she closed and double locked her front door, "you've got a lot of vats of wine to sleep off."

Rachel obeyed, following her boss up the stairs slowly, gripping the banister hard. When they reached the top, her breaths were coming short and sharp. Gill turned to her questioningly, and Rachel muttered one word – "toilet".

Fearing for the life of her carpets, Gill hurriedly ushered Rachel into the bathroom.

"Back in a minute," she murmured over the sound of Rachel spluttering and heaving. She went downstairs and retrieved a glass of water for Rachel, which she deposited next to her in the bathroom before she went to make up the guest room.

A few minutes later, Gill returned, spare bed made up and accompanied by a stash of painkillers, tissues, water and a bucket, to find Rachel slumped tiredly on her bathroom floor, fiddling with the childproof cap on a bottle of bleach.

Wordlessly, Gill took the bleach from her and squirted it around the toilet, which Rachel had thankfully managed to leave unmarked. Gill suspected she was no novice at drunken calls on the big white telephone. She turned back to Rachel, who now had her head in her hands.

"You okay?" Gill asked, kneeling down next to her.

Rachel looked up, her expression clear – embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry..." she began hoarsely, looking as if she wanted to kick herself.

"It's fine," Gill replied, "really. We all have to do it sometimes."

"Well yeah, but..." Rachel let out a bitter laugh, as if she couldn't believe quite what was happening.

"But I'm your boss and it's inappropriate?" Gill finished, raising an eyebrow, unable to resist.

Rachel looked as if her worst fears had been confirmed.

"Yeah."

"Don't be stupid," Gill said bluntly. "Can't exactly complain, can I. Pot calling the kettle black..."

Rachel just looked at her, her expression still full of anguish. Gill continued.

"Well, alright, I've never got pissed in front of my boss, but I can tell you that there's been more than one occasion Janet or Julie's been sat where I am now."

Rachel smiled bitterly, her eyes brimming with tears. Gill wished there was something she could say to make her more comfortable. She really didn't mind that much; her main concern was Rachel's wellbeing.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

"I..." Rachel shrugged, as if to say she wasn't completely sure. "I went home, after I saw you this morning. Did some wedding planning... Then went to meet my sister for a drink. She went home at tea time. I didn't want to; Sean's on a night shift... I went to the Grapes, texted Janet to find out when she was finishing, she said it would be a late one so I thought I'd finish my drink and call it a day. But, obviously, I didn't. I don't even know how I got so pissed."

Rachel was staring at the floor, her expression almost disbelieving. Gill could tell that she was disappointed in herself, but at the same time she could see her wondering if all this was ever going to end.

"Why didn't you want to go home?" she asked, gently but curiously.

Rachel shrugged.

"That world," she said simply.

"What world?"

"That shitty, horrible little world I grew up in. I joined the police as soon as I was old enough. I barely kept in touch with Dom and Alison, I didn't hear from my mum or dad. I made new friends. I went out with successful men. I got my flat, my car, my career. And then Dom came back, fresh out of prison, and he wrecked my kitchen and my car and made me miss my exam, but I told myself no, it's worth it, because we're rebuilding his life. And then he goes and does this, puts my job on the line, and I just think... Why'd I even fucking bother. Why did I bother trying to do well for myself, when Nick turned out to be as scummy as the rest of them and the powers that be believe Dom's word over mine."

Rachel all but spat the last few words, ending her little speech by bringing her knees up to her chest, crossing her arms and bending her head down onto them. Gill watched her for a moment, unsure of what to do. She couldn't pretend to be able to understand for a second what Rachel was going through. She might understand the Nick business well enough, she'd gone through plenty of problems when it came to cheating men, but she'd been brought up in a stable household by intelligent parents who had good manners. Being in the job she was, there wasn't much she hadn't seen, but seeing it isn't necessarily feeling it. Gill thought about Rachel's mum. She'd never met the woman, but Rachel had told her in Bristol, when she told her about Dom, that the two of them had been pretty much raised by their sister. She thought about Sammy, and how she'd felt when Dave had buggered off and left them. Thought about how painful it was every time she had to interact with him at work, every time she was reminded of how things had been back then, and then she had an inkling of why Rachel didn't want to go back to the flat unless Sean was there with her. Tentatively, Gill reached out and placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"You left because you're strong-willed, you're clever and you know that in the long run, it's the best thing. The past will always come back to haunt us sometimes. But we just have to deal with it and move on. You're a good copper, Rachel... The met doesn't want to lose you."

"Really?" she said sarcastically, looking Gill in the eye. Gill let out a small sigh at the sight of the mascara tracks all down Rachel's cheeks.

"Really," she said firmly, raising her eyebrows, "and if they haven't realised that yet then I will tell them so in no uncertain terms."

Rachel gave a small smile at that, albeit a slightly watery one. Gill patted her hand and then stood up, yawning.

"Bed, I think," she suggested.

Rachel nodded and stood up too, only swaying very slightly, almost completely sober now. Gill pointed her out of the bathroom and turned the light off before following her into the guest bedroom.

"You've got everything you need?" she said from the doorway, surveying Rachel as she sat on the edge of the bed, taking her shoes off. She hoped that the answer was yes; she was knackered herself.

Rachel nodded, looking up at her.

"Thank you, Gill." she said quietly, sincerely. Gill could see tears forming in her eyes again, but the expression on her face was gratitude. It occurred to her that Rachel probably wasn't used to being looked after. She nodded and replied, half-jokily, "I'd rather you were here than passed out on the road outside the Grapes".

Rachel outwardly cringed.

"I promise not to do it again," she said, her expression full of anguish at the thought of what she'd done tonight.

"Good," Gill said, smiling slightly. Then she stepped forward and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed next to Rachel, arms folded, wanting to put her at ease. "But now you're here, get a proper rest. I'll drive you home in the morning on my way into work."

"Can I come?" Rachel joked, with the air of one who knew that if they didn't laughed, they'd cry.

"I wish," Gill said, honestly. "Soon."

"Hopefully."

"If I've got anything to do with it."

Rachel nodded and glanced at Gill, who couldn't help but notice the hope in her eyes. But it wasn't just hope, it was something close to admiration. She could tell that Rachel believed her capable of doing anything, and it flattered her that Rachel thought her opinion that important.

"You are a lot of trouble," Gill smiled, "but if I lost you my team might not be as brilliant as it is, and that I will not stand for."

Rachel laughed shakily, but she shook her head. "I don't deserve this job."

"Yes, you do," Gill said, serious again, scrutinising Rachel's face. She'd gone from being so confident and professional to someone who looked as if they'd no self-respect left. She looked completely defeated.

Gill was still watching her but Rachel didn't speak, a nerve twitching in her cheek. She looked as if she were clenching her jaw. She blinked, hard. Gill unfolded her arms, considering her for a moment, and realised that somehow when she was at home it was easier to deal with someone's tears and fears than it was when she was in boss mode.

"Come here," she said softly, holding out her arms. Rachel glanced at her momentarily, her expression changing rapidly to disbelief and then to something that looked almost like relief, before she obeyed. Gill wrapped her arms around her protégée's shoulders, suddenly overwhelmed by how much she cared about her welfare, unable to bear witnessing her grief. She wanted to hug the sadness out of her, make her feel like she was valued, because she deserved to be in MIT just as much as any of them, if not more.

"I told you earlier," she said quietly, "that you'll get through it, as long as you've got people around you. I hope you know that you have."

She felt rather than saw Rachel's nod, and just about heard her muttered thanks, which was followed by a fresh wave of sobs.

"Shh," she said automatically, stroking Rachel's hair, thanking every deity there was that nobody at work could see her now and cringing slightly at the very thought.

Gill didn't know how long exactly it was that she sat there with Rachel, letting her get it all off her chest, trying to make her hurt a bit less, but by the time she'd stopped crying and her puffy eyelids were drooping, the clock said ten to three in the morning and Gill was very aware through her concern of the fact that she had to be up in a few short hours. She could tell that Rachel, having been completely assaulted by drink and her own emotions, was half-asleep despite her best efforts to try and act as if she was still with it. Gill released her, encouraging her to lie down, and lifted the duvet cover so she could crawl into the bed. She let the duvet drop so that Rachel could pull it up herself, thinking that things were not yet so desperate that she'd be tucking her in. Finally, she stood up with a whispered goodnight and left the room, glancing back as she turned the light off to see that Rachel was already dead to the world. Exhausted, she ambled back to her own bedroom, changed quickly into a pair of pyjamas and fell into bed, her thoughts full of Rachel and what the next few days and weeks would bring. Gill's last thought before she too succumbed to sleep was that whatever it was, she would be with her every step of the way. She would not abandon her.