Fic: 5 Times Young Sam Tyler Felt Himself Being Watched, green cortina, dakfinv
Title: Five Times Young Sam Tyler Felt Himself Being Watched
Author: dak
Word Count: 2050 words
Rating: green cortina
A/N: For
time_testudinem
1.
They had just moved again. Mummy and Auntie Heather were busy inside with the boxes and told him he should play outside with Ivanhoe so he wouldn’t get into trouble. Sammy said he would because then he could watch out for Daddy. At this, Mummy had looked away and Auntie Heather had pat him on the head and shoved him out the door.
For awhile, Sammy sat on the pavement teasing Ivanhoe with a bit of yarn. Then, he pretended to fight Ivanhoe with his new army man. Ivanhoe didn’t like the army man very much and tried to chew its face off. Later, as Ivanhoe took in a relaxing sunbath, Sammy pretended his army man was a policeman (because Mummy couldn’t afford a new army man and a new policeman), and began arresting the local pebbles for armed robbery.
Sammy was apprehending his third crim, quite vocally in fact, when he saw Ivanhoe tense. Sammy got the same feeling in his tummy that he got when Mummy was checking on him, and he hadn’t realized she was there watching him until she started to walk away. Mummy and Auntie Heather were still inside, though, and Sammy thought the street was empty.
When he turned to see what Ivanhoe was staring at, all he saw was a copper-colored car disappearing around the corner. As Sammy looked around the street, he realized the sun was disappearing, too, and he scooped up Ivanhoe and carried the whining cat inside.
Two days later, he didn’t need to use the army man as a policeman. Mummy handed him a new policeman, telling him he had been such a good boy during the move so he deserved a special present. Sammy knew the policeman must have been from Daddy.
2.
All he’d done was broken his arm, but the doctors were making him stay overnight in hospital. Sammy hated hospitals. Hospitals were for old people and sick, little kids. Sammy was twelve-years-old now. He wasn’t a little kiddie anymore. He didn’t need the doctors fussing over him like they were.
Mum had spent most of the day with him, but he made her go home around tea time. Only the littlest kids in hospitals had their mums with them all day, and Sammy was one of the bigger lads, even if he didn’t look it. If he had to spend one night in hospital, he could do it without his mum.
But now he lay in bed, unable to fall asleep while all the other kids on the ward were happily dozing. There was some light in the hall, from the nurses’ station, but his ward was quite dark. The light that did come through made strange shadows on the walls. The beeping from his neighbor’s heart monitor wasn’t helping, either. Then, there was another boy at the end of the room with a respirator that was also keeping him awake. All he could hear was the beep and whoosh of the machines.
As he stared at Respirator Boy, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. Sammy had the uncanny feeling he was being watched. He spun round, hoping it was one of the nurses or one of the other boys. But, Sammy saw nothing except a shadow moving away from the ward entrance. It was probably just one of the doctors, he told himself, but it only made him feel more uncomfortable.
Five minutes later, a nurse came round with some grapes and the newest issue of Doctor Who Monthly. When he asked who brought them, she simply smiled and said “a friend.” As he munched on the grapes and flipped through the magazine, Sammy knew he was wrong, but he wished that somehow the friend had been his dad.
3.
She was gorgeous. She was so, so gorgeous, and here she was, practically sitting on his lap, combing her fingers through his messy, curly hair, and rubbing her hand up and down his skinny thigh. Stacy liked him. Him! Sam Tyler! Not in a million years did he think she’d accept his offer for a date, let alone actually touch him in public. A cynical voice in the back of his head told him it was only because she was pissed and couldn’t see straight. If she remembered what he really looked like, she would’ve left ages ago.
But, she was the one who had picked the pub knowing it would serve underage clientele. She was the one who kept ordering them drinks, and hadn’t she started stroking his face before they both started slurring their words?
When Stacy excused herself and went to the Ladies Room (walking a suspiciously straight line, Sam noticed), Sam sat their quite self-consciously, awaiting her return. It felt like everyone in the pub was watching him, knowing he was breaking the law. Well, they were both only a few months short of eighteen. Would they be so much older four months from now? Sam didn’t think so.
As he looked around, he didn’t notice anyone paying special attention to him. In fact, it seemed as if everyone was looking in the opposite direction. Still, he couldn’t shake that feeling, that gnawing sensation in his gut that someone was staring at him. When Stacy returned, smiling coyly and suggesting they head somewhere a little more private, Sam’s stomach began doing flips for a completely different reason. He decided to head for the Gents first and hurried to the toilets.
Bouncing and singing to himself as he finished up, he didn’t see the older bloke he bumped into on his way out the door. He mumbled a quick apology, then nearly ran back to Stacy. As they left the pub, Stacy clung to his arm as he stuffed his hands in his coat pockets where his fingers immediately discovered a condom he swore hadn’t been there before.
4.
The letter was supposed to come yesterday. It hadn’t. Sam was shitting bricks. He had no idea what he’d do if he wasn’t accepted to the Academy. He’d done okay on his GCSEs, but nothing extraordinary. A DIY store was fine for a gap year and all, but for the rest of his life? Sam thought he’d go mad before he made Do-It-Yourself a career.
He hadn’t told his mum when the letter was meant to come, so she was unaware that it was late. He had contained his nerves at home - it wouldn’t do to have her worrying - but here at the store the weight of the missing letter was trying his patience. He puttered around anxiously, reorganizing shelves that didn’t need reorganizing, flipping through the newspaper until his fingers were black, and changing the radio station every few seconds.
On his break, he went out back and lit a cigarette to calm his nerves. He’d promised his mum he’d quit as soon as he got into the Academy. Well, if he didn’t get into the Academy, at least he wouldn’t have to quit. Sam watched the street as he puffed on his second fag. Every person he saw was going about their business, enjoying their happy, simple lives. Didn’t they know how much stress he was under? Didn’t they realize one of their fellow Mancunians was suffering from a near-nervous breakdown over a stupid piece of undelivered post?
Sam heard the store bell ring, and stomped out his ciggie before hurrying back inside. When he made it to the counter, no one was there. There was, however, an envelope with his name on it, lying on the counter near the till. It was filled out with his address, but bore no postmark. More importantly, it was from the Academy. Holding his breath, he held the letter with shaking hands and, after a minute of staring at it, tore it open. He didn’t have to read past the first line. He’d been accepted.
Sam’s face broke into a grin and he jumped into the air, hooting and hollering and generally making a fool of himself. He quickly composed himself when he felt someone watching him. It was probably Mr. MacGregor, come to see how the store was faring. When he turned towards the door, though, there was no one there.
Sam had been certain someone had seen his excited overreaction. Well, if there was, they must have seen him through the large, storefront window. He looked out, but the street was so crowded, if someone had been watching him, he would never know who. He stuffed the letter into his pocket and spent the rest of the day in a pure haze of happiness.
5.
He hadn’t taken a test since he was in the Academy. Granted, that had only been three years ago, but Sam couldn’t even remember what it felt like to be tested. And, this test would only be the first phase towards making Detective. Even if he passed this, would he make it through the study courses and occupational standards required for the position? Never before had Sam wanted to take up smoking again.
He had studied. He knew what to expect. But, what would happen if his mind went blank as soon as he saw the paper? What if he saw everyone finish before him? What if he failed? Would he be allowed to take it again? What if he was like PC Miller, who was in his fifties, had taken the exam more than anyone else, and still never made Detective? Sam didn’t want to be the next PC Miller - the next station joke.
He was to be one of the youngest in the examination room, though. Most everyone else had waited at least five years until they even attempted the exam. What if he was too young? What if he passed, but they didn’t want him in the program anyway because of his age?
Sam spun his cap in his hands as he and the other uniformed officers were led into the exam room. No one else seemed as nervous as he did. Christ, he was going to muck it all up. He sat in the very back row, nervously aligning his pencils in a neat row as he waited for the test to be handed out.
His fears were certainly not quelled when the retired officer delivering the examination slapped down Sam’s test with an unnecessarily loud smack. Sam jumped at the sound, then quickly rearranged his pencils which had also leapt at the vibrations. When the man barked the order to begin, Sam stared at the paper, got so far as filling in his name, and then went blank.
While others hurriedly filled in their answers, Sam had yet to get passed the first question. It was so warm in the room. Was everyone else as warm as he was? He looked around. No, they all seemed focused and prepared. Sam was prepared. He knew he was prepared. He just wasn’t focused. He swallowed hard and looked back at the paper. As he stared at the first question, the pencil held tight in his unmoving hand, he suddenly realized he was being watched.
He looked to his left, but the officer there was thoroughly engrossed in her examination. He looked to his right, and the same was true for the officer sitting there. It was when he looked ahead that he realized where the uncomfortable gaze was coming from - the proctor.
Sam was caught like a deer in headlights. That man, he had never met him before, but Sam knew he could smell fear, and he’d caught a good whiff of PC Tyler as soon as he’d stumbled through the door. That it was it. It was over. He was done for. He’d never pass a test the rest of his life.
Then, the unexpected happened. The grizzled, old officer softened his gaze and gave Sam a wink and a nod. The green eyes which had seemed so piercing and harsh before, suddenly appeared calm and encouraging. Sam didn’t know how, but he knew the proctor believed in him. And, if a hardened officer like that could believe in young PC Tyler, then why couldn’t Sam believe in himself?
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and put pencil to paper.