Fic: 5 Times Gene Saved Sam, blue cortina, sam/gene, dakfinv
Title: Five Times Gene Saved Sam
Author: dak
Word Count: 1781 words
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: angst, suicidal theme (in one)
Pairing: Sam/Gene
A/N: For
talcat
1.
“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Keep your eyes on me, alright?”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” he smirked clutching his hand tightly.
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - you’re a bloody fool, Guv.”
“Why’s that?” Gene wheezed, trying to control the pain.
“Careful. Don’t move. I think the bullet missed your femoral artery, but I don’t see an exit wound. Stay as still as possible,” Sam continued to apply pressure with his free hand. “And you’re a fool because I could’ve dodged that bullet in time. I didn’t need you to shove me behind a wall so you could get shot, yourself.”
“You sound worried, Glady,” Gene mocked.
“Course I’m worried,” Sam mumbled. “You’re losing enough blood to fuel an organ transplant and it’s been ten minutes since Ray radioed for that damn ambulance.”
“I’ll be fine,” Gene assured him.
“You’d be better had you not been shot,” Sam snapped.
“And you’d be dead if I hadn’t pushed you. I saw where that gun were aimed. Right ‘tween your pretty, little eyes. Knowing you, you woulda been trying to ‘talk him down’ til that bullet were lodged in your skull.”
“Better watch what you say about my eyes, Guv. There are fellow officers about.”
“They’ll just think I’m teasing,” Gene smiled, then forced his drooping eyes open. He was desperate to remain conscious.
“Are you?” Sam smirked, already knowing the answer.
“Where’s that bloody ambulance?”
2.
“You have to take them.”
“N-no. I w-won’t. I can’t. No more d-drugs.”
Gene sighed and, after checking they were alone, grasped Sam’s hand with his own.
“ ‘S not only for the pain, Sammy. Docs say these’ll help you recover.”
Sam, his forehead damp from fever, shook his clouded head.
“I d-don’t trust them. I c-can fight th-this off myself. D-don’t need them,” he argued, his body shaking from the chills.
“Tyler, you’ve been fighting this off yourself almost two weeks now and you’re only getting weaker. How much sicker d’you need to be ‘fore you admit you’re wrong?” Gene reached up and dabbed the fresh sweat from Sam’s brow. “I need my bloody DI back, you hear? City’s going to shite.”
“ ‘S what you get...havin’ Johnny Hart as m-manager,” Sam tried to smirk, then shuddered. Gene rapped him lightly on the arm.
“I weren’t talking football, you berk,” Gene watched as he struggled through another wave of nausea. “Take the drugs, Sam.”
“No.”
“You’re paranoid from fever, is all. The doctors ain’t trying to kill you. They’ll leave that to me,” Gene rubbed his hand up and down Sam’s arm, trying to soothe them.
“I-I heard them talking, Gene. Th-they want me back. They want to send me back,” Sam started to panic. “I d-don’t want to go back. I w-want to stay here. Stay here with you,” Sam stared at Gene, his eyes unable to focus.
“And I told you - you were hallucinating. ‘S what you get for having a fever hot enough to fry me breakie. That’s all. Take the drugs.”
“No.”
“That final then?”
“Yeah,” Sam gritted his teeth, and squeezed Gene’s hand as the illness continued to wrack his fragile body.
“Okay, then,” Gene nodded, then struck Sam in the side of his head, knocking him unconscious. Placing a quick kiss on his hand, Gene left the chair and searched out Sam’s doctors.
“Oi, Baker,” he called.
“Yes, Mr. Hunt?” the doctor sighed, setting down a clipboard.
“DI Tyler’s sleeping now, but ‘fore he passed out, said you could give ‘em whatever meds he needs.”
“So you were able to change his mind?” Dr. Baker asked in astonishment.
“Well, I can be very convincing,” Gene smiled and rubbed his sore knuckles.
3.
“He’s a liability.”
“He’s my DI.”
“Then find a new one. What about that Sergeant of yours. Carling, is it?”
Gene forced himself to remain calm as he leaned forward to address his Superintendent.
“Frank, I know Tyler’s an odd one. Damned bloody annoying at times, too. I’ll be the first to admit it. But, when he’s focused on the job, he’s the best damn detective I’ve seen in years.”
“A compliment from Gene Hunt?” Rathbone strummed his fingers on his desk. “My, what has this lad done to earn your loyalty? It couldn’t have been allowing a murder suspect to escape into thin air,” he added with a sneer.
“You let me keep him, I guarantee that shite with Vic Tyler will never happen again.”
Rathbone carefully considered the matter, then turned his attention to a file.
“It better not, Hunt, or it will be your head on the chopping block. Understood?”
“Loud and clear,” Gene nodded, then took his time returning to a near-empty CID. Only Sam was there, finishing his day’s reports.
“How was your meeting?” he asked without looking up.
“Barrels of laughs, as always,’ Gene sighed. “You hungry?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he grinned.
“Good. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Everything alright?” Sam asked, grabbing his jacket.
“Yeah. Fine. Sam...”
“Hm?”
“Nothing. Let’s go. I’m bloody starving.”
4.
“Want to tell me what you’re doing?” Gene asked calmly. Sam didn’t answer. Gene crouched down in front of him, trying to catch his attention. “Sam? You in there?”
“I’m so tired,” he finally whispered.
“I can see that. Whiter than a sheet, you are.”
“There’s so much to decide. So many choices. So many options. I don’t want to choose anymore.”
“And you think this’ll help?” Gene asked, still trying to catch Sam’s eye.
“I’m so tired,” he repeated.
“Then why didn’t you tell me? I woulda listened, Sam. You didn’t have to let it get this bad,” he cautiously reached out and placed his hands on Sam’s knees. Tyler didn’t even react.
“She said this will help me sleep. She said this is the best way.”
Gene shuddered at the hollow tone of Sam’s voice.
“Well, she was wrong.” Whoever she was, thought Gene. “She wants you to take the coward’s way out, but you, Sam Tyler, are no coward, are you?”
“I don’t know,” he answered.
“Course you’re not. I’d never have a coward for a DI, and I’d never let a coward in my bed. Ergo, you, Sam Tyler, are no coward,” he gently squeezed Sam’s knees. Sam didn’t answer. “You need help sleeping? We’ll find a way to help you sleep. You need a holiday? I’ll go with you. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it. Promise. You just have to give me the knife, Sammy.”
For the first time since Gene entered the flat, Sam raised his head an looked at Gene.
“You’ll help fix me?” he asked, his voice weak and strained.
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
“Absolutely,” Gene nodded. Sam stared into space a second more, then lowered the kitchen knife from his neck. He slowly handed it over to Gene, who took it and threw it across the room as Sam collapsed off the bed and into his arm. He held him there until Sam cried himself to sleep.
5.
“I need to speak with her. It’s urgent.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Unless you’re family, I can’t allow you to enter the room.”
“But you don’t understand. I have to talk to her about Sam. Mrs. Tyler!” he shouted past the nurse. “Ruth Tyler!”
“Sir, please, step back.”
“What is it? What’s going on?” A red-eyed Ruth exited her son’s room to address the commotion in the hall.
“Mrs. Tyler. I’m sorry to disturb you. I just need a minute of your time. One minute. Please. It’s about your son,” he persuaded her.
“It’s alright, Molly,” Ruth told the nurse. “I’ll speak to him.”
The nurse nodded and briskly walked away.
“Now what is it Mr...”
“Hunt. Gene Hunt. You probably don’t remember me, ma’am, but I was the detective assigned to your husband’s case, back in 1973,” he held out his old warrant card. Ruth studied it carefully before returning it.
“I have a vague memory of you, Detective, and I must say, it’s not a pleasant one,” she crossed her arms. “What can I do for you?”
“Sam never told you, probably didn’t want to upset you, but I...met him when he was on the force. Is on the force. You know what I mean. He’s a good friend, and...”
“Mr. Hunt,” she sighed, her expression softening, “if you wanted to say goodbye, all you had to do was ask.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here about, actually. You have absolutely no reason to listen to me, but...please don’t switch off his life support.”
“What?” Ruth took a step back.
“I know this is a difficult decision for you, but I am certain Sam will come back to you. He’s a strong-willed bastard if I ever knew one, Mrs. Tyler, and I know he’ll wake up, if you just give him a chance.”
“Mr. Hunt, please. Please don’t do this to me. I’ve made my choice. I--”
“I know you have. I understand. All I’m asking is that you rethink it. For Sam’s sake,” he pleaded.
“I...I’m sorry. I think you should go.”
“Mrs. Tyler--”
“Please go!” she started to sob, then ran back into the room. Gene closed his eyes so as not to catch a glimpse of Sam in that state, then walked calmly around the corner, and waited. Just after two o’clock, the doctors arrived to switch off the machines.
“I’m telling you for the last time, I don’t care what your machine says. I’m leaving him on! You say you can’t detect anything, but I know what I saw! At two o’clock, on the dot, I saw Sam smile. I saw him smile!”
Gene breathed a sigh of relief, then finally left the hospital. He said nothing until he was back in the car.
“You can open your eyes. You’re still here,” Gene smiled, and placed his hand on Sam’s leg. Sam took a few deep breaths before he was able to look up at Gene.
“You sure?” he asked. Gene punched him in the arm. “Ow, alright. I believe you.”
“Good,” Gene nodded, and put the car in gear.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Gene scoffed. “Not like it din’t already happen in your timey-whimey world.”
“I know. I just...Just thank you. For saving me.”
“You’re welcome. Long as you return the favor, of course,” Gene smirked lewdly.
“Christs, Guv. We’re in our seventies. How can you still have the libido of a jackrabbit?”
“Cos I’ve got you for a mattress mate,” he smiled and put the car in gear.
“That was nearly a compliment. What do you want?”
“Pack o’ fags?”
“You must be joking,” Sam sighed, and they argued all the way to the pub.