Fic: The Kubler-Ross Model (3/5), green cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Kubler-Ross Model (3/5)
Author: dak
Word Count: 2235 this part [approx. 9000 overall]
Rating: Green cortina
Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of self-harm, angst
Spoilers: massive for 2.08
Summary: Sam says he's fine.
A/N: No internet at home, but I after an hour's (well I didn't mean for it to be that long), I have found a Subway which shall temporarily suit my needs. Please enjoy!
Part 1: Denial Part 2: Anger Part 3: Bargaining Part 4: Depression Part 5: Acceptance
Detailed Summary: Set post 2.08. Sam goes undercover in a mental hospital in order to catch a killer, but has he truly accepted his choice to return to 1973, and is the hospital the best place for him to be?
___________
Part 3: Bargaining
“Checks and balances? I don’t believe in that. I can’t believe in that. Everything has to be done cleanly, clearly. No exceptions.”
“You believe in things being black and white.”
“I believe that some things have to be. I mean, I know not everything is. I’m not naive enough to think there aren’t shades of gray, but I...I can’t operate in a gray zone.”
“So, while you accept that others may behave in a way that could be considered... morally ambiguous, shall we say, you cannot accept that you, personally, may also be prone to this sort of behavior.”
“I like to think that I’m not.”
“Have you, though? Have you done things you would consider a part of this ‘gray zone’ which you seem to disapprove of?”
“Hasn’t everyone?”
“Have you been able to come to terms with that?”
“I’m not a hypocrite.”
“I never said you were.”
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because, at the time, I believed it to be the right thing.”
“And afterwards?....Sam?”
“I’ve learned the hard way that...sometimes the right thing....it turns out to be the opposite of what you expected. Sometimes...it hurts the people you care for most, but you can’t see that then. You can only see the black and white. You just don’t know which is which until it’s too late.”
*
There was no phone call the next day. No surprise, apologetic visit from Annie. Sam Tyler spent the day bouncing on the balls of his feet, pacing the ward, wringing his hands, because that’s what Sam “Dobbins” would have done.
The kind nurses tried to calm him, offered to sit with him or speak to the doctors about his medication, but Sam politely refused them all. He needed to be on his own. He needed to keep a clear head. Annie would be fine. Annie was fine. She’d show up tomorrow and explain everything.
Sunday came and Sunday went, but Annie did not. No visit. No phone call. They must be busy. Something must have happened. He watched the news religiously, read any paper he could get his hands on, but there was no mention of any hostage crisis, bank heist, or post office job. Nothing he could see that would tie up Manchester’s detectives.
Monday passed in much the same way as Sunday, only with increased anxiety on Sam’s part. It had now been six days since he’d had contact with the outside. He knew he should be concentrating on the job, but he wasn’t. He was playing checkers with Alfie, not caring if the twitchy man moved the right piece or not.
He had his usual session with Dr. Gower, who promised to try and get in contact with his wife. He ate his meals and he flushed his pills. What if they had forgotten about him? It was a stupid thought, Sam knew that. They wouldn’t just forget they’d left their DI in a mental hospital.
The thought that they’d left him here on purpose reared its ugly between the evening news and Manic Marvin’s bedtime breakdown. Part of Sam knew it was unfounded paranoia. Part of him couldn’t stop thinking that maybe it might be true, especially since Sam knew he couldn’t leave the hospital unless someone from CID came to get him out. No one from CID was in sight.
*
“I do compromise...Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“I know skepticism when I see it.”
“When is the last time you made a significant compromise, Sam?....Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you remember the last time you sacrificed something for someone else?”
“Yes.”
“Where the end result wouldn’t ultimately benefit you?”
“You think I’m selfish?”
“I think you’re avoiding the question with another question. Let’s go back to that dream.”
“Let’s not.”
“You dreamt of leaping off a roof.”
“It was one time! I mean, I dreamt it once.”
“In some people’s opinion, suicide is the most selfish act a person can commit.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not selfish, then.”
“Sam, you know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“I know why you say I’m here.”
*
It was late Tuesday afternoon when an orderly informed Sam Dobbins that his cousin was here to see him.
“My cousin?”
“Yeah. Says his name’s Clint?”
Sam exhaled a long, frustrated breath, and followed the orderly to the visitor’s area. His temporary relief was replaced instantly with frustration as he caught sight of his Guv reclining peacefully in one of the cheap chairs, cigarette in his hand as he stared at the ceiling in what could only be described as a state of pure boredom.
“You bastard,” Sam huffed as he stormed over to the table. “Where the bloody hell have you been?” He asked in a forced whisper as he sat across from Gene.
“You okay?” The Guv asked casually, as he flicked ash into the plastic tray.
“Am I...I’m...” Sam ran his hands over his face. “What happened to Annie? Is she alright? Why hasn’t anyone been trying to get in touch with me? I have absolutely no idea what’s going on--”
“Annie’s fine,” Gene cut him off, leaning forward. “Her mum’s fallen ill an’ she’s had to go out there an’ look after ‘er.”
“And it took you this long to tell me that? You couldn’t even pick up a phone and--”
“Calm down, Gladys. Only been a few days.”
Sam nervously bounced his knee. “A few days? This...” He leant in closer and lowered his voice. “This operation depends on me being able to relay information to the team. How am I supposed to do that when no one on the team comes to see me?” He would’ve been shouting it if he could. Instead, he was straining to keep his voice as low as possible while still relaying the anger he was feeling.
“You been sleeping?” Gene asked, staring at Sam intently. It was the same stare Dr. Gower tended to level him with.
“What?”
Gene extinguished his cigarette in the ash filled dish. “Look a bit paler than what Cartwright described. An’ you only whinge like this when you haven’t gotten your beauty rest.” He sat back and crossed his arms.
Sam laughed and shook his head, before pushing himself away from the table. “This is a joke.”
“Then let’s call it quits,” Gene shrugged.
“I still have a job to do, Clint,” Sam snarled and stormed away.
“Sam,” Gene shouted, but Tyler refused to turn round. “I’ll see yeh on Friday, then.”
Sam waved a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared out the door.
*
“Do you like it here?”
“Sorry?”
“I don’t mean in hospital. You said you used to live in Hyde, correct?”
“Yes. Hyde.”
“You don’t sound too fond of it.”
“I used to be.”
“What changed?”
“I went back.”
“It wasn’t like you remembered?”
“I may have glamorized it in my mind, while I was away.”
“Is there anything you miss?”
“Loads of things. Loads of people, but...it wasn’t home anymore.”
“So, in deciding to move to Manchester, what was the greatest thing you had to leave behind?”
“...Everything.”
*
“Anything to report?”
“No.”
“Then why the bloody hell are you still in ‘ere?” Gene took a drag on his cigarette, and Sam watched with typical annoyance as the smoke curled up to the ceiling.
“I’m still in here...” Sam paused as an orderly walked past. “I’m still in here,” he said again, leaning closer and whispering softly, “because I still have a job to do. We agreed it was going to take time.”
“Nearly five weeks an’ what’ve we got? Not so much as a dodgy handshake,” Gene grumbled.
“All I need is more time, Gene.”
“You always need something,” the Guv rolled his eyes.
“The second victim was from the higher security ward. Maybe that’s where I need to be.”
“No.” Gene’s voice was cold. It wasn’t a casual disagreement, it was a distinct order.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Sam slumped back, crossing his arms.
“You’re supposed to be the clever one,” Gene pointed out.
“I told you my idea.”
“And I told you no. Now think of another.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Sam shook his head.
“What, is your brain box finally stumped?”
“There’s not much else I can do in here.”
“Good. Then let’s get you out,” Gene pressed.
“No.”
“Not ready to admit this plan was bollocks before it began?”
“It isn’t bollocks. I was only saying that my options in here are limited.”
“Then let’s get you out.”
“Did you swallow a broken record this morning? I said limited. Not impossible.”
“So what do you suggest, Gladys?”
“Give me more time. There has to be something here. I’ll find it.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I’m taking you home.”
“Fine. Two weeks. Can you give me that? If we still have absolutely nothing in two weeks, I’ll admit defeat, alright?”
Gene studied him carefully, then gave a brief nod. “Fine. Two weeks. But that’s it. Then you’re comin’ back with us.”
“Two weeks. If I don’t find anything,” Tyler rose from the table.
“Sam,” Gene called after him, and this time Sam turned.
“What?” He asked through a yawn.
The Guv seemed to have changed his mind as he shook his head and stood up from the table, grabbing his coat. “Nothing...Make sure you get some kip.”
*
“I like living here, I do. I made the choice to live here and I’m happy with that, but every once in awhile...there are some things I miss from home.”
“Don’t you consider this home?”
“How do you mean?”
“You constantly refer to Hyde as ‘home,’ though you’ve said you’ve decided to live here permanently. Isn’t this home to you?”
“It’s force of habit, I guess.”
“You’ve been in Manchester nearly a year now.”
“Yeah...I don’t know. I guess it’s home. I mean, it is home. This is my home, but it...I don’t have everything here that I used to have there.”
“Like your mother?”
“Yeah. That’s one thing. The biggest thing.”
“You could visit her.”
“I wish she could be here. Well, she is, really, in a way.”
“A spirtual way?”
“Uhm...Yeah. But I...I want more than that.”
“Do you feel guilty for having left her?”
“I feel guilty for not having told her I was leaving.”
*
“I went some place, Mum, and everyday I woke up in that place.”
“I promise I won’t leave you.”
“You always keep your promises.”
Sam forced himself to wake. Dreams, memories, like that would only distract him, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when he now had a deadline. Gene was right though, not that Sam would ever admit it, he did need to get a decent night’s sleep. He was becoming restless, unfocused, incorrigible, and he knew it. If he was going to be productive, he needed sleep. If was going to sleep, he needed...
Sam reached under his mattress and pulled out the pills he hadn’t chosen to flush that night. He didn’t know why he hadn’t. He told himself it was because the opportunity had not arisen, but he knew that was a lie. What the truth actually was, he wasn’t sure.
It was only two pills, though. Just enough to help him relax. Help him get at least one good night’s sleep so that he could focus on the operation. He wouldn’t have to take them again. He could flush tomorrow’s dosage down the toilets, just like he always did.
Sam woke feeling relaxed, refreshed, and alone. The bed next to him was empty. He looked around the small room, but Alfie was nowhere to be found. Thinking his roommate might already be in the common room, Sam padded into the hall and shuffled down the corridor. A few other patients were already meandering about, but no sign of the one Sam was looking for. He tried asking a nurse, but she only shook her head ‘no’ and carried on with her duties.
He spent the day wondering if maybe Alf had finally been transferred to a different ward, if maybe he’d fallen ill and had to be taken to a non-mental hospital. It wasn’t until later that evening, when he peered out the window and saw two men he easily recognized as Ray and Chris speaking with Dr. Gower, that his stomach leapt into his chest.
There must have been a fourth victim. Neither Annie nor Gene would be able to interview anyone at the hospital, having already been seen visiting Sam under the pretense they were family. There was a fourth victim. The only patient missing was Alfie. There was a fourth victim, and he’d been taken and murdered right under Sam’s nose. There was a fourth victim, and it was all his fault.
_________
Part 4: Depression
Author: dak
Word Count: 2235 this part [approx. 9000 overall]
Rating: Green cortina
Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of self-harm, angst
Spoilers: massive for 2.08
Summary: Sam says he's fine.
A/N: No internet at home, but I after an hour's (well I didn't mean for it to be that long), I have found a Subway which shall temporarily suit my needs. Please enjoy!
Part 1: Denial Part 2: Anger Part 3: Bargaining Part 4: Depression Part 5: Acceptance
Detailed Summary: Set post 2.08. Sam goes undercover in a mental hospital in order to catch a killer, but has he truly accepted his choice to return to 1973, and is the hospital the best place for him to be?
___________
Part 3: Bargaining
“Checks and balances? I don’t believe in that. I can’t believe in that. Everything has to be done cleanly, clearly. No exceptions.”
“You believe in things being black and white.”
“I believe that some things have to be. I mean, I know not everything is. I’m not naive enough to think there aren’t shades of gray, but I...I can’t operate in a gray zone.”
“So, while you accept that others may behave in a way that could be considered... morally ambiguous, shall we say, you cannot accept that you, personally, may also be prone to this sort of behavior.”
“I like to think that I’m not.”
“Have you, though? Have you done things you would consider a part of this ‘gray zone’ which you seem to disapprove of?”
“Hasn’t everyone?”
“Have you been able to come to terms with that?”
“I’m not a hypocrite.”
“I never said you were.”
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done because, at the time, I believed it to be the right thing.”
“And afterwards?....Sam?”
“I’ve learned the hard way that...sometimes the right thing....it turns out to be the opposite of what you expected. Sometimes...it hurts the people you care for most, but you can’t see that then. You can only see the black and white. You just don’t know which is which until it’s too late.”
*
There was no phone call the next day. No surprise, apologetic visit from Annie. Sam Tyler spent the day bouncing on the balls of his feet, pacing the ward, wringing his hands, because that’s what Sam “Dobbins” would have done.
The kind nurses tried to calm him, offered to sit with him or speak to the doctors about his medication, but Sam politely refused them all. He needed to be on his own. He needed to keep a clear head. Annie would be fine. Annie was fine. She’d show up tomorrow and explain everything.
Sunday came and Sunday went, but Annie did not. No visit. No phone call. They must be busy. Something must have happened. He watched the news religiously, read any paper he could get his hands on, but there was no mention of any hostage crisis, bank heist, or post office job. Nothing he could see that would tie up Manchester’s detectives.
Monday passed in much the same way as Sunday, only with increased anxiety on Sam’s part. It had now been six days since he’d had contact with the outside. He knew he should be concentrating on the job, but he wasn’t. He was playing checkers with Alfie, not caring if the twitchy man moved the right piece or not.
He had his usual session with Dr. Gower, who promised to try and get in contact with his wife. He ate his meals and he flushed his pills. What if they had forgotten about him? It was a stupid thought, Sam knew that. They wouldn’t just forget they’d left their DI in a mental hospital.
The thought that they’d left him here on purpose reared its ugly between the evening news and Manic Marvin’s bedtime breakdown. Part of Sam knew it was unfounded paranoia. Part of him couldn’t stop thinking that maybe it might be true, especially since Sam knew he couldn’t leave the hospital unless someone from CID came to get him out. No one from CID was in sight.
*
“I do compromise...Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“I know skepticism when I see it.”
“When is the last time you made a significant compromise, Sam?....Well?”
“I’m thinking.”
“Do you remember the last time you sacrificed something for someone else?”
“Yes.”
“Where the end result wouldn’t ultimately benefit you?”
“You think I’m selfish?”
“I think you’re avoiding the question with another question. Let’s go back to that dream.”
“Let’s not.”
“You dreamt of leaping off a roof.”
“It was one time! I mean, I dreamt it once.”
“In some people’s opinion, suicide is the most selfish act a person can commit.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not selfish, then.”
“Sam, you know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“I know why you say I’m here.”
*
It was late Tuesday afternoon when an orderly informed Sam Dobbins that his cousin was here to see him.
“My cousin?”
“Yeah. Says his name’s Clint?”
Sam exhaled a long, frustrated breath, and followed the orderly to the visitor’s area. His temporary relief was replaced instantly with frustration as he caught sight of his Guv reclining peacefully in one of the cheap chairs, cigarette in his hand as he stared at the ceiling in what could only be described as a state of pure boredom.
“You bastard,” Sam huffed as he stormed over to the table. “Where the bloody hell have you been?” He asked in a forced whisper as he sat across from Gene.
“You okay?” The Guv asked casually, as he flicked ash into the plastic tray.
“Am I...I’m...” Sam ran his hands over his face. “What happened to Annie? Is she alright? Why hasn’t anyone been trying to get in touch with me? I have absolutely no idea what’s going on--”
“Annie’s fine,” Gene cut him off, leaning forward. “Her mum’s fallen ill an’ she’s had to go out there an’ look after ‘er.”
“And it took you this long to tell me that? You couldn’t even pick up a phone and--”
“Calm down, Gladys. Only been a few days.”
Sam nervously bounced his knee. “A few days? This...” He leant in closer and lowered his voice. “This operation depends on me being able to relay information to the team. How am I supposed to do that when no one on the team comes to see me?” He would’ve been shouting it if he could. Instead, he was straining to keep his voice as low as possible while still relaying the anger he was feeling.
“You been sleeping?” Gene asked, staring at Sam intently. It was the same stare Dr. Gower tended to level him with.
“What?”
Gene extinguished his cigarette in the ash filled dish. “Look a bit paler than what Cartwright described. An’ you only whinge like this when you haven’t gotten your beauty rest.” He sat back and crossed his arms.
Sam laughed and shook his head, before pushing himself away from the table. “This is a joke.”
“Then let’s call it quits,” Gene shrugged.
“I still have a job to do, Clint,” Sam snarled and stormed away.
“Sam,” Gene shouted, but Tyler refused to turn round. “I’ll see yeh on Friday, then.”
Sam waved a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared out the door.
*
“Do you like it here?”
“Sorry?”
“I don’t mean in hospital. You said you used to live in Hyde, correct?”
“Yes. Hyde.”
“You don’t sound too fond of it.”
“I used to be.”
“What changed?”
“I went back.”
“It wasn’t like you remembered?”
“I may have glamorized it in my mind, while I was away.”
“Is there anything you miss?”
“Loads of things. Loads of people, but...it wasn’t home anymore.”
“So, in deciding to move to Manchester, what was the greatest thing you had to leave behind?”
“...Everything.”
*
“Anything to report?”
“No.”
“Then why the bloody hell are you still in ‘ere?” Gene took a drag on his cigarette, and Sam watched with typical annoyance as the smoke curled up to the ceiling.
“I’m still in here...” Sam paused as an orderly walked past. “I’m still in here,” he said again, leaning closer and whispering softly, “because I still have a job to do. We agreed it was going to take time.”
“Nearly five weeks an’ what’ve we got? Not so much as a dodgy handshake,” Gene grumbled.
“All I need is more time, Gene.”
“You always need something,” the Guv rolled his eyes.
“The second victim was from the higher security ward. Maybe that’s where I need to be.”
“No.” Gene’s voice was cold. It wasn’t a casual disagreement, it was a distinct order.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Sam slumped back, crossing his arms.
“You’re supposed to be the clever one,” Gene pointed out.
“I told you my idea.”
“And I told you no. Now think of another.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Sam shook his head.
“What, is your brain box finally stumped?”
“There’s not much else I can do in here.”
“Good. Then let’s get you out,” Gene pressed.
“No.”
“Not ready to admit this plan was bollocks before it began?”
“It isn’t bollocks. I was only saying that my options in here are limited.”
“Then let’s get you out.”
“Did you swallow a broken record this morning? I said limited. Not impossible.”
“So what do you suggest, Gladys?”
“Give me more time. There has to be something here. I’ll find it.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I’m taking you home.”
“Fine. Two weeks. Can you give me that? If we still have absolutely nothing in two weeks, I’ll admit defeat, alright?”
Gene studied him carefully, then gave a brief nod. “Fine. Two weeks. But that’s it. Then you’re comin’ back with us.”
“Two weeks. If I don’t find anything,” Tyler rose from the table.
“Sam,” Gene called after him, and this time Sam turned.
“What?” He asked through a yawn.
The Guv seemed to have changed his mind as he shook his head and stood up from the table, grabbing his coat. “Nothing...Make sure you get some kip.”
*
“I like living here, I do. I made the choice to live here and I’m happy with that, but every once in awhile...there are some things I miss from home.”
“Don’t you consider this home?”
“How do you mean?”
“You constantly refer to Hyde as ‘home,’ though you’ve said you’ve decided to live here permanently. Isn’t this home to you?”
“It’s force of habit, I guess.”
“You’ve been in Manchester nearly a year now.”
“Yeah...I don’t know. I guess it’s home. I mean, it is home. This is my home, but it...I don’t have everything here that I used to have there.”
“Like your mother?”
“Yeah. That’s one thing. The biggest thing.”
“You could visit her.”
“I wish she could be here. Well, she is, really, in a way.”
“A spirtual way?”
“Uhm...Yeah. But I...I want more than that.”
“Do you feel guilty for having left her?”
“I feel guilty for not having told her I was leaving.”
*
“I went some place, Mum, and everyday I woke up in that place.”
“I promise I won’t leave you.”
“You always keep your promises.”
Sam forced himself to wake. Dreams, memories, like that would only distract him, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when he now had a deadline. Gene was right though, not that Sam would ever admit it, he did need to get a decent night’s sleep. He was becoming restless, unfocused, incorrigible, and he knew it. If he was going to be productive, he needed sleep. If was going to sleep, he needed...
Sam reached under his mattress and pulled out the pills he hadn’t chosen to flush that night. He didn’t know why he hadn’t. He told himself it was because the opportunity had not arisen, but he knew that was a lie. What the truth actually was, he wasn’t sure.
It was only two pills, though. Just enough to help him relax. Help him get at least one good night’s sleep so that he could focus on the operation. He wouldn’t have to take them again. He could flush tomorrow’s dosage down the toilets, just like he always did.
Sam woke feeling relaxed, refreshed, and alone. The bed next to him was empty. He looked around the small room, but Alfie was nowhere to be found. Thinking his roommate might already be in the common room, Sam padded into the hall and shuffled down the corridor. A few other patients were already meandering about, but no sign of the one Sam was looking for. He tried asking a nurse, but she only shook her head ‘no’ and carried on with her duties.
He spent the day wondering if maybe Alf had finally been transferred to a different ward, if maybe he’d fallen ill and had to be taken to a non-mental hospital. It wasn’t until later that evening, when he peered out the window and saw two men he easily recognized as Ray and Chris speaking with Dr. Gower, that his stomach leapt into his chest.
There must have been a fourth victim. Neither Annie nor Gene would be able to interview anyone at the hospital, having already been seen visiting Sam under the pretense they were family. There was a fourth victim. The only patient missing was Alfie. There was a fourth victim, and he’d been taken and murdered right under Sam’s nose. There was a fourth victim, and it was all his fault.
_________
Part 4: Depression