Any problems, you just call the Gene Genie.

"You're... actually Molly Drake?" Alex finally found her tongue.

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"Why would I pretend to be anyone other then I was?" Molly eyed the door; if she wasn't going to wake up soon she had to get out of here.

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"Oi, mouthy tart miniature! Your mum did everything she could to try and get back to you, so don't you dare say she didn't want you!"

Yes, this is why you didn't let Gene Hunt handle delicate emotional situations. He wasn't very gentle about it.

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"Gene," Alex scolded, turning to his desk and... yes, right there. There they were: Molly's papers. The room swum around Alex for a minute, and she handed them to him. "New recruit, Guv," she whispered, her heart just breaking.

Blinking back tears, she turned back to her daughter... who had grown up into such a beautiful young woman. What had happened to her, to bring her to this place so young? Part of Alex despaired even as she managed a smile. "Sweetheart, this might seem strange, but you're not dreaming. You've been... transfered here. Something you'll understand in time."

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It was easier to deal with the Gov, who represented God only knows what in this dream. So she turned towards him, ignoring her mum when what she really wanted to do was throw her arms around her and be held, and told that everything was going to be alright. But this, despite what dream mum said, couldn't be real. And having even a moment of her mum would make waking up that much harder.

"My mum was there for me every single day until my twelfth birthday. I know it wasn't her choice to die, but she did. And maybe I haven't dealt with that completely, as evidenced by the fact that I'd imagine a mum that wants you of all people to be here, rather then be alone with me. And call me tart again and I'll kick your arse."

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Gene moved to sit at his desk, glancing at the papers for a moment before downing his scotch in one go, quickly refilling his glass. Talk about a messy situation, the world really was a fucked up place.

"Maybe she wants me 'ere because I was the one to wipe away her tears when she couldn't get back to you, eh?" The man should really learn the art of keeping his damned mouth shut.

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"You can't come back from being dead. Dead is just dead. The end. Sorry, you lose the game. They lower you into the ground and all that's left is a marble slab with your name on it and the people you left behind." She'd been there, the day they lowered the casket. Her and Evan, his hand on her shoulder. Heaven forbid her dad bothered to fly across the ocean to be there.

She still visited once a week, though she only brought flowers on holidays.

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"It's complicated here, Mols," Alex explained weakly, laying her hand on the girl's arm and fighting the impulse to spell it all out and keep Molly safe (as safe as she could) from the trouble that could come her way. "But it will be alright."

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Some people didn't even get a slab. People like Gene. He didn't say it outloud though. Really, how did you ever begin to explain what was going on here? It was so much easier when he didn't know the truth and he just thought people were crazy.

"Course it'll be alright." Gene took another sip of his scotch. "You stick with your mum and the Gene Genie, Molly, and you'll be fine."

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"You're kidding me, right. The Gene Genie?" Molly rolled her eyes as she shrugged the hand off her arm. It was too real and made it harder to convince herself this was a dream.

"I need to wake up now. I don't have time to deal with this."

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"She's going to have to work through it on her own," Alex mused, a proud smile pulling at her lips --

But then, oh!, it hit her: the only people, from what Gene had said and from what she'd seen with her own eyes, that fought the idea of this place being real were those who weren't quite dead. Sam, in his coma, and she, herself, fighting for life. A relieved bark of laughter worked out of her throat even as she blinked away tears.

"Gene, she's fighting it! That means -- you know what that means! Ohhh, thank God." Alex turned and cupped Molly's face in her hands, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "You keep fighting to wake up, Molly Anne Drake, and when you wake up, you tell that godfather of ours that I love him very much and that he's clearly done a wonderful job of raising you. And... that I'm sorry."

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Gene decided not to point out the fact that both she and Sam had both ended up dying eventually. If hope was what Alex needed to cling to, to get through this, then hope she could have.

"Right, happy reunion over with? Let's do some police work then, shall we?" Throwing people into work so they can't focus on the craziness seemed to work well... to a degree at least.

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"If I tell Evan that you spoke to me he'll think I need to start seeing a shrink again. He made me go for three years after you... you died." She allowed herself just a moment to breath in her mum's perfume before pulling away.

"This is the strangest dream I've ever had. Yeah, let's do some work."

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"Right. Work."

Alex downed her scotch. "I have a meeting elsewhere. Got to fly." A kiss to Molly's cheek and one to Gene's, and she was out of the office and out of CID with her heels clicking and her mind reeling.

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Gene knew better than to chase after Alex right now. She would work through things in her own time and in her own way. His door would be open if she needed it and his shoulder more than available.

He gave a sigh and turned his attention back to Molly, picking up her file to glance over it. "So, PC Drake... tell me about yourself? Tell me about your last department?"

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