Fic: The Debriefing (1/1), red cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Debriefing
Author: dak
Word Count: 3132 words
Rating: red cortina
Warnings: slight non-con, strong language, angst, character death (though I don't think it'll bother many)
Pairings: dubious Sam/Morgan, Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam had some unfinished business in Hyde.
A/N: This is another fic from a culf bunny. And it turned out to be a much more evil, much darker bunny than I anticipated. So, uhm, enjoy?
“Do you want to save him?”
*
Sam was already sat at his desk when Gene came into work. According to Ray and Chris, he was the first one in that morning. The Guv hung up his coat and finished his butty, figuring that Tyler must have gone to his own flat last night upon returning to Manchester. Gene had only half-hoped that Sam would have gone right to him, and that half was slightly offended.
“Have a good trip to the country, Gladys?” Gene asked loudly as he approached Tyler’s desk, lit fag in hand. Sam did not respond. “Tyler,” Gene barked, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Tyler jolted out of his reverie, puling away from Gene’s touch.
“Oh. Guv. Didn’t see you come in,” he apologized, turning back to his report.
“Must be my cat-like prowess,” Gene grinned. Tyler failed to contradict the obviously false statement. “So, everything sorted then?” he asked, dropping his voice.
“Hm?”
“Hyde. Is everything sorted with Hyde?”
Sam hesitated a split second before grabbing a pen and scribbling over the file in front of him.
“Yeah. All sorted.”
“So, I take it we won’t be hearing anymore from dear Mr. Morgan,” Gene casually inquired.
“I said it was finished,” Sam snapped, slamming down his biro. “Sorry,” he apologized immediately, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I...don’t feel well.”
“Must’ve picked summit up from them suburbs,” Gene crossed his arms, regarding Sam carefully.
“Yeah,” Sam sat very still, then moved to grab his jacket off his chair. “Actually, I think I better go home, Guv. I’ll finish these tomorrow.”
Gene nodded, granting permission for him to do so. He’d disapproved of Sam returning to Hyde on his own, even if it only had been to tie up loose ends, as Tyler had put it. Coming face to face with those he’d betrayed must have been emotionally taxing. It certainly had been when he’d apologized to A-Division.
“Go on then. Get yourself home. Don’t need you sicking up this place.”
“Cheers,” Sam sighed as he rose from his chair. Watching him walk to the door, Gene noticed the limp in his step. Maybe Hyde was rougher than he’d thought.
*
“It’s why I came here, isn’t it?”
*
He pounded on the door for the second time.
“Going to make me break it down?” he huffed. Another second passed, and Gene heard the latch flip. The door cracked open and Tyler peaked out with bleary eyes. “Thought you’d like to join us at the pub. Celebrate your official transfer, and all.”
Sam scrubbed a hand over his tired face. Dark circles Gene hadn’t noticed before had formed under Sam’s normally bright eyes. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to wake him.
“Thanks, but no thanks, Guv. Think I should stay in for the night.”
“Still a bit peaky, eh?” he asked, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops.
“Yeah. Yeah, guess you could say that,” Sam leaned against his door frame for support. Morgan must have put him through the ringer. Gene bit back the thought that it served them both right.
“If you want to stay in, I could stay in with you,” Gene suggested, stepping closer. Sam immediately stiffened.
“I...not tonight, Gene. It’s...I need some time alone.”
Gene moved back, disappointed but not surprised.
“You sure you’re alright, Sammy?”
“Hm? Yeah. Fine. I just need time to process everything.”
“Hell of a debriefing, hm?”
“Hell of a debriefing,” Sam agreed as his eyes blurred. He shook his head. “Look, I’ll see you tomorrow. Make you something decent to eat. Probably only had butties and Hoops since I’ve been gone,” Sam smiled, but something was missing. Gene decided to let it rest, for now. Whatever it was, Tyler would bounce back. Sam always bounced back.
*
“And you’d trade one life for another?”
*
Sam was absent from work the next day. Phyllis said he had reported in sick. Gene decided not to press the matter. Tyler always over-thought everything. What would take a normal bloke twenty-four hours to think through, would take Sam forty-eight.
Or seventy-two.
Sam didn’t call in the next day, but never came to the station. Gene was tempted to let it slide, but he knew that as DCI he had to force Tyler out of whatever funk he’d fallen into. After two quick drinks at the Arms, the Guv decided he would return to Tyler’s flat.
Planted in front of the door, Gene puffed out his chest and raised his fist, ready to knock.
“...speak with him. It’s urgent.”
Gene heard Sam’s strained voice through the thin walls. He hoped he was on the telephone and not talking to himself, again.
“Tyler. Sam Tyler. I just...he has to be there...I am not overreacting!”
Gene snorted, then heard the receiver slammed down.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”
He could picture Tyler pacing his flat, pulling at his short hair. Out of courtesy, he waited another minute before knocking. Sam didn’t answer immediately and Gene was about to knock again when the door was pulled back.
“Oh,” he sighed.
“Oh yourself. Going to invite me in or keep me on the doorstep?”
“I was going to get a shower,” Sam motioned to the bathroom.
“So? Not like I haven’t seen you without your underpants, Sammy-boy,” Gene smirked. Sam looked away.
“Fine,” he relented, stepping back and allowing Gene entry. “I’ll only be a minute,” he announced, walking around the messy flat, picking up clothes and a towel along the way.
“Take your time,” Gene shrugged. “I’m in no hurry.”
“Course you’re not,” Sam sighed and slunk into his bathroom.
Gene plopped onto the bed, making himself comfortable, when he glanced at the phone. He was determined to stay out of it. Sam’s problems were his own. But, Gene was unfortunately a copper and allowed curiosity to get the better of him. He grabbed the receiver and spoke with the operator.
“Evening, luv. Could you tell me who I was just connected to?”
*
“He doesn’t deserve this.”
*
Gene paced his office, smoking through his last cigarette. It was late and no one was the 3rd floor, save the Guv himself. And the ponce that walked right into his office. Gene waited for him to speak first.
“You left.”
Sam didn’t sound angry, just confused.
“You seemed busy,” Gene shrugged.
“I was only a few minutes. You--”
“You called Hyde.”
Gene hadn’t wanted to say it so accusingly, but there it was. Sam appeared stunned, then formed his response; he recovered slower than usual.
“I did,” he confessed.
“Dare I ask why?”
Sam nervously readjusted his position.
“I had a few more things I needed to discuss with Morgan. Nothing important.”
“Nothing important,” Gene repeated, rolling the words over his tongue. He needed to rinse his mouth out with whiskey. He walked to the filing cabinet. “So, it was nothing important that had you shouting bloody Mary down the phone line?” He poured a glass so he wouldn’t have to see Sam’s expression.
“You were eavesdropping?”
Sam sounded hurt.
“Didn’t have to. Thin walls.”
He drank the glass so he wouldn’t have to see Sam’s expression.
“It’s...a matter between Morgan and myself. It doesn’t concern you.”
Sam sounded conflicted.
“I mean,” he continued, “it’s nothing for you to be concerned about. Nothing I want you to worry about.”
Definitely conflicted.
“That that’s why you went over there. To Hyde.” He needed another drink to remove the taste of that word. “You were supposed to sort out all your matters with Morgan.”
“It was. I did. I thought I did.”
He heard Sam sit down on the leather couch. Gene finally decided to look at him. He looked numb. Gene poured two glasses. Sam took what was offered but didn’t drink it. Gene stood over him, waiting. Sam never continued. Gene sat next to him. Leaving his life behind, abandoning his world in Hyde, Gene couldn’t imagine doing that to his Manchester, even if it was for Sam. But, Sam would get over it. This was where he belonged, after all. Sam knew that before. If only the daft git could see it again. Gene reached out and rested his hand on Sam’s knee so as to show his understanding.
Sam leapt up, spilling half the whiskey on the floor.
“Don’t do that,” he warned.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Gene rolled his eyes. He was showing Sam he cared. He understood. Weren’t those the girly things Tyler always wanted?
“Oh, so there’s something wrong with me?” Sam slammed his glass on the desk. He was getting defensive. Why?
“If you’re calling this normal, there is.”
“And what do you know about normal, Gene? How do you know what normal is for me?” He was panicking. He was distracting Gene from the original question.
“Why did you call Morgan?”
Sam didn’t answer.
“You still working for him?”
Sam looked wounded but remained silent. No, he wasn’t working for Morgan. It was something else. Something close. Sam crossed his arms, wrapping himself into a knot. Sam was defensive. He was standoffish. He didn’t want Gene to touch him. He wanted to speak with Morgan. He didn’t want Gene near him. He needed to speak with Morgan. He didn’t want Gene. He wanted...
“Bastard,” Gene hissed. That caught Sam’s attention. “No wonder he manipulated you so well.”
“What?” Tyler’s confusion relaxed his body, but he kept his distance.
“You were shagging him, weren’t you?”
The fear in Tyler’s eyes confirmed the truth.
“Went back to Hyde for one more game of Who’s Your Father, eh? Bet he makes you call him Daddy, don’t he?”
“Gene--”
“You do that at every station? Get transferred, fuck your DCI, and move on? You like using us, or do you like being used by big, strong men?”
Sam was trembling now.
“Or is just Morgan what gets you randy? All that order, all that control, all them fancy, pinstripe suits what really tickles your todger?”
Gene waited for Sam to deny it. He waited for Sam to call Gene a dirty, old man, and how dare he accuse Sam of something so beneath him. The thought of it alone was enough to send Sam screaming to the bogs for a bit of retching. Gene waited.
Sam’s last resolve melted, leaving him temporarily vulnerable. It lasted only a moment though, as his gaze and body hardened, making his voice harsh and cold.
“Well. You figured it out, Guv. Surprised it took you so long. Yeah. I let Morgan fuck me. And I enjoyed it, too. It was the best I’d ever had. So good, I asked for more. And I want more. That’s why I called him. Because I get so hard just thinking about him, I can hardly bear not being near him.”
He was out the door before Gene could kill him.
*
“So what you must ask yourself is: is it worth it to save him? Save his career? Save your professional...relationship?”
*
Drinking did wonders. It could make Gene forget many horrible memories and provide him with the courage to carry on. It made him forget the entire week after Sam’s confession. He remained at the station, he did his job, and he did not answer why his DI was never there. The right amount of whiskey allowed him to forget Sam while still performing his everyday tasks. Drinking did wonders.
It did not, however, prevent WDC Cartwright from entering his office on particularly ordinary Friday morning.
“Sir?” her voice was tentative, hiding the strength Gene knew she had. She never bothered him unless it was important, and he allowed her to approach him.
“What is it Cartwright? Carling shove nudie mags in your locker, again?”
“No, sir. It’s...may I sit down?”
“If you like.”
She sat across from her Guv, arranging her words as carefully as her skirt.
“I’ve been to see DI Tyler, sir.”
“Decided on a transfer, as he?”
“No, sir. He didn’t say much at all, but...” she hesitated.
“Out with it, Nancy Drew. I have other things to do today.”
“He was acting strange and I was concerned. I saw this on the floor, and I shouldn’t have, it’s not my business, but he hasn’t been himself, and I only want to help--”
“Cartwright.”
“I took them when he wasn’t looking. I don’t want to get him into trouble. He’s a good detective, and a good man, but I think he needs help and is too afraid to ask.” She reached into her purse and retrieved a small paper bag. “I haven’t told anyone else, and I won’t. But, I don’t know what to do, and we should look after our own...” She set the bag on his desk and rose from her chair. “If you tell me I didn’t see it, sir, I didn’t see it.”
With that, she hurried out of the room, leaving Gene alone with her discovery. The blinds already closed, Gene took the bag, opened it, and pulled out a dirty pair of y-fronts. The front was stained with come, the back heavy with blood.
*
“You already know the answer is yes, else you wouldn’t have tried so hard to destroy him.”
*
Gene didn’t bother knocking. He slammed open the door, catching Tyler off guard. Sam couldn’t lower his vest in time to cover the yellowing bruises.
“Bastard,” Gene whispered, and they both know who he meant.
“Get out,” Sam hissed, tugging down on the white cotton and turning his back on Gene. Gene kicked the door shut, but stepped no closer.
“Not till you tell me what happened in Hyde,” he demanded. Sam laughed coldly and began tossing around the pots in his overflowing sink.
“Already did.”
“How about the truth this time.”
Sam’s fingers gripped the countertop. His knuckles would have gone white if he wasn’t already so pale.
“I told you. I was more than Morgan’s whipping boy. I went there for one, last fuck, and Daddy was a little eager.”
The anger in Sam’s voice hid the fear and the lies. Gene couldn’t guess why he hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps he was too blinded by his own genuine rage to notice Sam’s falsity. Gene walked forward - no longer keeping his distance - and stood directly behind him, close but not touching.
“What happened in Hyde, Sam,” he asked gently, saving his anger for the man that deserved it.
Sam was silent but trembling. His grip on the countertop was all that was keeping him upright and he clung to the formica with every ounce of strength left in his body, which Gene guessed wasn’t much. When Sam still refused to answer, Gene reached out and gently lifted up the fresh vest. Sam shuddered but did not protest, allowing Gene a good look at the handprint-shaped bruises branded into his lower back.
“He said I could help you,” Sam then whispered, still facing the sink while Gene’s eyes burned holes into his back. “If I let him...then he wouldn’t press charges against you...using the information I helped gather. If I let him...he’d leave you alone.”
“He used you.”
“I know.”
“You let him use you.”
“I know.”
“He’ll ask again,” Gene said, carefully lowering the vest and stepping back.
“You don’t know that.”
“He’s had you wrapped round his finger since day one.”
“No, I...”
“You let him do this, you’ll let him do anything.”
“I did it for you.”
“I don’t need saving, Sam. I can take care of meself. Always have.”
“It was for nothing, then. I sold myself for nowt.”
And then Sam broke. He would have collapsed to the floor, had Gene not caught him as he fell. He lowered him gently, and sat with him on the floor - pulling him close to his chest and holding him there as the sobs tore him apart.
“You did what you thought was right. That’s your problem, Sammy. You’re always doing what you think’s best and ignoring all else. Can’t blame you for it, though. ‘S what made you stand up to Warren. ‘S what made you stand up to Harry. ‘S what makes you stand up to me and I’m made a better copper for it. I don’t blame you for wanting to help me, Sam, but you can’t think I’d ever want this over me bloody job, do you? What made you think I’d ever choose meself over my team? Over you?”
“He said...”
“Don’t you dare listen to that Lucifer again, Tyler. That’s a bloody order.”
Gene felt him slipping away and held on tighter until Sam became vacant and withdrawn. After helping the pliant man to bed, Gene left the flat with a silent promise to return. Sam was teetering on an edge - which, Gene didn’t know - but he was determined to pull him back nonetheless.
*
“Do you want to save him?”
“It’s why I came here, isn’t it?”
“And you’d trade one life for another?”
“His for yours? I’d say that’s a fair deal.”
“It won’t change what has already happened. He’ll have to live with his choices.”
“Like you gave him much of one.”
“Sam still made a choice.”
“And he should’ve never had to. He doesn’t deserve it, what you put him through. He doesn’t deserve being twisted about by a perverted, old tosser like you.”
“Well then, I suppose what you must ask yourself is: is it worth it to save him? Save his career? Save your professional...relationship?”
“You already know the answer is yes, else you wouldn’t have tried so hard to destroy him.”
“I’ve hardly destroyed him, DCI Hunt. Simply took what was offered.”
“Quite cocky for a bloke with a gun to his head, aren’t you Frank?”
“Well, considering how upset you were when your team believed you to be a, what was it? A frigging, bastard murderer? I doubt it’s in your character to pull the trigger no--”
*
Gene slipped quietly into the flat and hung his coat on the back of the door. He maneuvered well in the dark and refused to switch on the light, in case of waking Sam. As he sat in the sunken armchair, Sam stirred, nonetheless.
“Gene?”
“Yeah, it’s only me.”
There was a long silence but even in the darkness, Gene knew Sam was watching him.
“I am sorry.”
“And I don’t want you to be. You did it for me, after all. I’m the one should be apologizing.”
“If Morgan...”
“Get some kip. And don’t you go worrying about DCI Morgan. He won’t be bothering you anymore.”
Sam shifted in the bed.
“That’s it.,” Gene encouraged. “Lie down and sleep. I’ll watch over you from now on, Sammy-boy.”