Fic: Five Times Sam Knew Gene Loved Him..., green cortina, dakfinv
Title: Five Times Sam Knew Gene Loved Him...
Author: dak
Word Count: 1447 words
Rating: green cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Five times Sam knew Gene loved him without him having to say the words (and the one time he did.)
A/N: This is for mistress_pol. She asked for this awhile ago, and I've finally been able to deliver. Hope you like it!
1.
It was pissing down rain. A little drizzle or a steady fall never meant much to Sam; he’d grown up with English weather after all. At the academy, he had often found himself doing exercises or training in a downpour. In his brain, he nearly associated all police work with rain. Tonight, however, there were no words to describe the amount of water pounding down on the Cortina’s metal roof. Normally, a small tinkling sound was produced by raindrops on the car. Tonight, it sounded (and felt), as if the car was being bombarded by gun fire. Thankfully, it wasn’t, else the Guv wouldn’t be sitting there bored out of his mind.
Along with normal rainfall (which this certainly wasn’t), stakeouts also never bothered Sam much. Surveillance was a necessary, if not most important, part of detective work. It was what he believed. It was what he always told the team. If he ever said otherwise, Gene, Ray, and many others, would never let him hear the end of it. Yet, with waves of rain falling down around them in a pitch black night, he was on the verge of admitting the stakeout was useless.
Only on the verge, mind. He would make sure never to tip over. It didn’t want to give Gene the satisfaction. And, Sam knew Gene would never act on his argument that the whole exercise was useless because the Guv wouldn’t want to look as if he couldn’t handle a bit of Tyler’s nancy-pansy Hyde detective work. So, the two men had silently agreed, without admitting it to the other, they would be sat in the Cortina until 4am out of sheer stubbornness.
This was fine with Sam. He was sure it was alright with Gene. The only problem was they had nothing but a pack of bacon crisps between them for the duration of the stakeout. Normally, Sam would duck out halfway through the shift and pick up food at the local chippy or cafe. He insisted on fresh food, even if it were just an order of chips. That had been their plan this evening, as well. Unfortunately, the rain hadn’t started until one hour into their shift. Sam had made it clear that Gene was not going to force him out in this weather, insisting the food would be a soggy, inedible mess by the time he returned, anyway. Gene had reluctantly agreed, and also proclaimed he was certainly not going to walk in this weather, either. Another stalemate.
Halfway through their shift, the men had broken down and opened the Curly Wurly Sam discovered were hidden in the glove compartment. It was the only food they would have for another four hours, and neither of them had eaten a decent meal before. As Sam went to break it in half, Gene waved for him to stop.
“Go on then, Dorothy. Take it. Must be starving, no healthy body fat for yeh to live off.”
Sam knew how Gene felt about Curly Wurlies. He knew how Gene felt about food in general. He made sure to suck on the candy gently, letting Gene watch. Sam knew how he would make it up to Gene later.
2.
The morgue was cold and stale. That was normal. The morgue was always cold and stale. For some reason, it was affecting Sam more than it had on his very first visit, back when he was a young PC. The pale, white light was blinding him. The harsh smell of formaldehyde was choking him. He had to grasp the metal slab to keep from falling over. But, by grasping the slab he had to get closer to him...to the body. Being that close made his legs tremble. He pushed up, stumbling backwards. Gene caught him and steadied him the slowly let go.
“Take as long as you need,” he said softly and moved to leave.
Sam reached back and grabbed his hand. Gene held it tightly and pulled Sam back against him. They stood there, together, until Sam finally stepped forward and pulled the sheet over Vic’s head.
3.
The light in the Guv’s office flicked off, leaving Sam’s lamp as the only light illuminating CID. Sam sighed and continued to fill out his report. Although it was already 7pm, he was going to be another two hours, at least. He shook the failing pen, hoping to swill the ink to the point. A soft creak sounded as Gene’s door swung open and shut. Sam listened as the footsteps came up behind him but did not turn.
“Pub?”
The way Gene asked, Sam could tell he knew the answer was already no.
“Can’t,” he sighed.
When Gene didn’t press, Sam knew his suspicions were correct.
“Comin’ round the house tonight?”
Sam heard the swish of fabric as Gene slipped on his coat.
“Could. But I’ll be too knackered to do anything,” he stifled a yawn and stretched his neck.
“ ‘S alright.”
Sam put pen to paper, desperate to force out the last dregs of ink. It was the end of a long day, at the end of a long week, and he dreaded wasting the last of his energy on a walk to the stationary cupboard.
“I’ll be by then,” he answered, rubbing his eyes.
“ ‘Kay,” Gene replied. He squeezed Sam’s shoulder and quickly withdrew. Sam watched as he strode across the room and out of the office. Looking back at his report, Sam sighed and continued writing, but the pen soon quit on him. Dropping it to the desk, he leaned back and stretched his arms behind his head. To the stationary cupboard he’d go. He placed his hands on the desktop, ready to push himself up, when he noticed the fresh biro perched by his left hand.
4.
Sam collapsed, sated, and felt Gene lie down beside him. The sheets were damp and sticky. The room was much too hot. Sam closed his eyes. As soon as Gene left, he would change the sheets and open the window. He could tolerate it all for five minutes. He had stretched and shifted and soon found the most comfortable position. That was when Gene started to move. Figured the bastard would get up right after Sam became comfortable.
Gene reached over and hooked his arm around Sam’s waist, then shuffled his body closer so that Sam was pressed right up against him. He shifted his leg forward and slipped his foot between Sam’s crossed ankles. Sam resigned himself to the fact that he’d be asleep once Gene left.
When his eyes cracked open the next morning, his chest was pressed into Gene’s back, his arms draped over his chest. Sam rose quietly from the bed and walked to the kitchen, ready to prepare their first breakfast together.
5.
“ ‘S my round.”
“You’re pissed.”
“I owe you a round.”
“You can buy me one tomorrow.”
“ ‘M not ready...go ‘ome.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I can ‘andle ‘nother drink. ‘M not...a girl.”
“Don’t need to prove it to me. C’mon, Sammy. Let’s go home.”
“I wanna go ‘ome.”
“Good.”
“I wanna go t’my ‘ome.”
“Okay.”
“Can you come with me?”
“Sure.”
“But...you’ll ‘ate the future.”
“...You’ll be there won’t yeh?”
And the one time he did...
His body was a mass of gauze and plaster. Despite the morphine and sedation, the tracheotomy tube burned his throat. He could feel the bandages wrapped tight around his head, the tubes stuck into his hands and arms. All he could do was feel. The patches taped over his injured eyes prevented him from seeing anything. He tried to move but could barely make his hand twitch. He was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. He was in pain but couldn’t express it. He was scared but couldn’t tell anyone.
Days passed. Maybe just hours. Perhaps mere minutes. He could no longer tell time. His body shuddered at the thought.
“Hey, hey. Take it easy. You’re alright. You’re safe.”
A warm hand slipped into his cold fingers, holding them tight.
“Can you hear me, Sam?”
He tried moving his fingers. It hurt too much. Another hand started stroking his head where his hair stuck out between the bandages.
“Few days, they’ll take the tube out. Maybe then you’ll wake up, eh?”
He was awake. He just couldn’t tell him. He continued to lay there.
“Just remember, you’re safe. And I’ll keep you safe.”
He wanted to say he felt safe now. He just couldn’t tell him. Lips were pressed quickly to his forehead and withdrawn.
“Can’t show much in here, but...you know I love yeh.”
He wanted to say it back. He just couldn’t tell him. Yet.