Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (14/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (14/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1258 (this part); (19,463 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
It was the worst decision he’d ever made. Absolutely. He’d been thinking about it all last night when he came home from the pub. He thought about it all this morning when Dr. Wynton’s assistant called and told him the request for a day pass had been approved. The Guv was worth it (no question there), but wasn’t there another way to go about finding him?
It would be easy to tell Wynton they’d changed their minds. Explain that Mr. Williams’ cooperation was no longer necessary. It would be easy to tell her. It would not be so easy to tell Chris, who was currently bouncing in his seat like an excitable puppy. Well, maybe not bouncing, but the div couldn’t sit still.
“Careful you don’t wet yourself,” Ray grumbled as he steered the car down the damp road. Chris made an effort to calm himself.
“Sorry, Ray. Do...” he trailed off, a clear sign he had a question he needed to ask, but was ashamed to do so.
“Do what, Chris?”
“I was just wondering if he’ll, you know, be...with it.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you decided to get him out.”
“You wanted his help, too,” Chris reminded him.
“I wanted answers. I didn’t want to be his bloody nursemaid.”
“Ray, you know he...he don’t hate you,” Chris whispered.
“Yeah. He does. And here’s summat to keep in mind - he hates all of us, Chris. You can’t tell cos his brain’s being zapped to kingdom come, but Tyler hates us. And, if he gets the chance, he’ll pull one over on us quick as you like. He’s a tricky bastard, still, and if does owt while he’s signed out to us, it’ll be our arses on the line. Got that?”
“Yeah,” Chris mumbled, staring out the window.
“I don’t mean to scare you. Just stay on your guard. ‘S all I’m asking.”
“Sure, Ray.”
Ray kept his mouth shut the rest of the way. He was afraid he’d get his foot stuck in it if kept talking.
While the sun had been out when they left Manchester that Saturday morning, the sky was overcast by the time they pulled onto the gravel drive of the asylum. Chris seemed as nervous as ever, his fingers fumbling as he tried to light a cigarette. Ray kept his expression cold. They were escorting a prisoner. That’s all this was, just like the time they picked up Dickie Fingers.
Once inside the building, they were told to wait while Williams was brought down. Each minute was more excruciating than the last. What could possibly take so long? Both Ray and Chris were turned away when the patient was finally escorted into the lobby.
Ray spun round as soon as he heard the footsteps. He first saw the same large orderly he’d seen twice before. The man stood there stone-faced while the patient in front of him nervously twisted the black leather jacket he held in his hands.
“Do exactly what they say,” the orderly warned. “I don’t want to hear you’ve been causing ‘em any trouble.”
Sam’s head twitched in what could have been interpreted as a nod.
“He’s all yours. Doc says he needs to be back by six.” With a final warning look at Sam, the orderly slipped out of the lobby, leaving the two detectives alone with the patient.
Sam stood there, all nervous tics, as he waited to be told what to do. Ray tried to catch his eye, but Tyler was looking everywhere but at Ray or Chris. He was dressed in normal clothes: loose-fitting black trousers, Cuban heels, and a light-blue striped shirt about a size too big. Ray couldn’t remember exactly, but he thought they were the clothes Sam had been admitted in. When Tyler lowered his arms, Ray noticed the old, dried bloodstains and his suspicions were confirmed. Chris must have noticed, too.
“Here,” Chris spoke softly, stepping forward. “’S cold out there, Boss. Why don’t you put your jacket on.”
Sam stared at the jacket, unsure what to do with it. Chris took it from his hands and helped him slip into it. When Sam went to button it up, he couldn’t quite make his fingers work the way they were supposed to. After a half-minute’s struggle with the top button, Chris took over the job.
“There you are, Boss,” he smiled weakly once the job was finished.
Sam smoothed down the front of his jacket with his hands, looking amazed that Chris had been able to solve the complex puzzle so quickly.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Chris?” he asked for confirmation.
“’S me, Boss,” Chris pat him on the back. Sam finally looked at Ray.
“Carling,” he said with certainty.
“Two for two. Not bad,” Ray snorted.
“C’mon. We’re wasting time,” Chris announced and led Sam out the door. Ray followed behind.
When the cold air hit Sam, he immediately stopped walking and stood in the doorway. Ray maneuvered around him to get outside and when he looked back, he saw Sam’s eyes were closed and tears streaming down his upturned face. Ray rolled his eyes.
“When’s the last time they let you outside?” he asked.
“Never and forever,” Sam whispered. Ray shook his head and went straight for the car.
“We’re parked over here, sir,” he heard Chris tell Sam. Ray turned back and watched as Chris gently guided him by the elbow. Sam stumbled a few times on the loose gravel, but was able to maintain his balance. It looked as if he wasn’t used to walking in shoes. Ray looked away and pulled out his keys as they reached the car.
“Where’s...”
Ray turned again and watched as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously struggling with the question.
“Sam?” Chris asked.
“Where’s...where’s...dammit,” he hissed, easily getting frustrated with himself.
“Where’s what?” Chris asked patiently.
“Where’s...car. Car. Other car,” he rambled, working though it. Ray pretended he didn’t care that a man who once had a quick wit couldn’t remember the word for “car.”
“Gene’s car,” he said, looking to Chris for help.
“The Cortina?”
“Yes!” Sam smiled. “The Cortina,” he repeated.
“It’s at the Guv’s house,” Chris answered.
“Where’s...where’s...the Guv?”
“He’s gone, you bloody berk,” Ray snapped. “’S why we’re here. You already know that. I told you last week. You told me about Jackie Queen.”
Sam cocked his head to the side, carefully listening to Ray’s words.
“Oh. Yes,” he nodded. Whether he actually remembered or not was anyone’s guess.
“Hurry up and get in,” Ray sighed, ready for the day to be over even though it had just began. Sam immediately went for the front passenger’s seat. “Oh no,” Ray stopped him. “Nutters in the back. Divs in the front.”
“Ray,” Chris sighed.
“No bloody way. It’s my car. I can’t be driving if he’s sitting next to me doing that spastic thing.”
They both looked at Sam whose shoulder suddenly twitched for no apparent reason.
“Maybe I should sit in the back with him?” Chris offered.
“Just get in the ruddy car. Like running a bloody primary school,” Ray huffed and reached for the door handle.
“Boom,” Sam whispered. Ray stopped and stared. “I...I blew you up. Not IRA. Wasn’t...”
“Chris, get him in the damn car so we can leave, alright?” he ordered and flung open the car door, trying to erase from his memory the sight of fire, the sound of exploding metal, and the smell of burnt flesh.
This was the worst decision he had ever made.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1258 (this part); (19,463 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
It was the worst decision he’d ever made. Absolutely. He’d been thinking about it all last night when he came home from the pub. He thought about it all this morning when Dr. Wynton’s assistant called and told him the request for a day pass had been approved. The Guv was worth it (no question there), but wasn’t there another way to go about finding him?
It would be easy to tell Wynton they’d changed their minds. Explain that Mr. Williams’ cooperation was no longer necessary. It would be easy to tell her. It would not be so easy to tell Chris, who was currently bouncing in his seat like an excitable puppy. Well, maybe not bouncing, but the div couldn’t sit still.
“Careful you don’t wet yourself,” Ray grumbled as he steered the car down the damp road. Chris made an effort to calm himself.
“Sorry, Ray. Do...” he trailed off, a clear sign he had a question he needed to ask, but was ashamed to do so.
“Do what, Chris?”
“I was just wondering if he’ll, you know, be...with it.”
“Should’ve thought of that before you decided to get him out.”
“You wanted his help, too,” Chris reminded him.
“I wanted answers. I didn’t want to be his bloody nursemaid.”
“Ray, you know he...he don’t hate you,” Chris whispered.
“Yeah. He does. And here’s summat to keep in mind - he hates all of us, Chris. You can’t tell cos his brain’s being zapped to kingdom come, but Tyler hates us. And, if he gets the chance, he’ll pull one over on us quick as you like. He’s a tricky bastard, still, and if does owt while he’s signed out to us, it’ll be our arses on the line. Got that?”
“Yeah,” Chris mumbled, staring out the window.
“I don’t mean to scare you. Just stay on your guard. ‘S all I’m asking.”
“Sure, Ray.”
Ray kept his mouth shut the rest of the way. He was afraid he’d get his foot stuck in it if kept talking.
While the sun had been out when they left Manchester that Saturday morning, the sky was overcast by the time they pulled onto the gravel drive of the asylum. Chris seemed as nervous as ever, his fingers fumbling as he tried to light a cigarette. Ray kept his expression cold. They were escorting a prisoner. That’s all this was, just like the time they picked up Dickie Fingers.
Once inside the building, they were told to wait while Williams was brought down. Each minute was more excruciating than the last. What could possibly take so long? Both Ray and Chris were turned away when the patient was finally escorted into the lobby.
Ray spun round as soon as he heard the footsteps. He first saw the same large orderly he’d seen twice before. The man stood there stone-faced while the patient in front of him nervously twisted the black leather jacket he held in his hands.
“Do exactly what they say,” the orderly warned. “I don’t want to hear you’ve been causing ‘em any trouble.”
Sam’s head twitched in what could have been interpreted as a nod.
“He’s all yours. Doc says he needs to be back by six.” With a final warning look at Sam, the orderly slipped out of the lobby, leaving the two detectives alone with the patient.
Sam stood there, all nervous tics, as he waited to be told what to do. Ray tried to catch his eye, but Tyler was looking everywhere but at Ray or Chris. He was dressed in normal clothes: loose-fitting black trousers, Cuban heels, and a light-blue striped shirt about a size too big. Ray couldn’t remember exactly, but he thought they were the clothes Sam had been admitted in. When Tyler lowered his arms, Ray noticed the old, dried bloodstains and his suspicions were confirmed. Chris must have noticed, too.
“Here,” Chris spoke softly, stepping forward. “’S cold out there, Boss. Why don’t you put your jacket on.”
Sam stared at the jacket, unsure what to do with it. Chris took it from his hands and helped him slip into it. When Sam went to button it up, he couldn’t quite make his fingers work the way they were supposed to. After a half-minute’s struggle with the top button, Chris took over the job.
“There you are, Boss,” he smiled weakly once the job was finished.
Sam smoothed down the front of his jacket with his hands, looking amazed that Chris had been able to solve the complex puzzle so quickly.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “Chris?” he asked for confirmation.
“’S me, Boss,” Chris pat him on the back. Sam finally looked at Ray.
“Carling,” he said with certainty.
“Two for two. Not bad,” Ray snorted.
“C’mon. We’re wasting time,” Chris announced and led Sam out the door. Ray followed behind.
When the cold air hit Sam, he immediately stopped walking and stood in the doorway. Ray maneuvered around him to get outside and when he looked back, he saw Sam’s eyes were closed and tears streaming down his upturned face. Ray rolled his eyes.
“When’s the last time they let you outside?” he asked.
“Never and forever,” Sam whispered. Ray shook his head and went straight for the car.
“We’re parked over here, sir,” he heard Chris tell Sam. Ray turned back and watched as Chris gently guided him by the elbow. Sam stumbled a few times on the loose gravel, but was able to maintain his balance. It looked as if he wasn’t used to walking in shoes. Ray looked away and pulled out his keys as they reached the car.
“Where’s...”
Ray turned again and watched as Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously struggling with the question.
“Sam?” Chris asked.
“Where’s...where’s...dammit,” he hissed, easily getting frustrated with himself.
“Where’s what?” Chris asked patiently.
“Where’s...car. Car. Other car,” he rambled, working though it. Ray pretended he didn’t care that a man who once had a quick wit couldn’t remember the word for “car.”
“Gene’s car,” he said, looking to Chris for help.
“The Cortina?”
“Yes!” Sam smiled. “The Cortina,” he repeated.
“It’s at the Guv’s house,” Chris answered.
“Where’s...where’s...the Guv?”
“He’s gone, you bloody berk,” Ray snapped. “’S why we’re here. You already know that. I told you last week. You told me about Jackie Queen.”
Sam cocked his head to the side, carefully listening to Ray’s words.
“Oh. Yes,” he nodded. Whether he actually remembered or not was anyone’s guess.
“Hurry up and get in,” Ray sighed, ready for the day to be over even though it had just began. Sam immediately went for the front passenger’s seat. “Oh no,” Ray stopped him. “Nutters in the back. Divs in the front.”
“Ray,” Chris sighed.
“No bloody way. It’s my car. I can’t be driving if he’s sitting next to me doing that spastic thing.”
They both looked at Sam whose shoulder suddenly twitched for no apparent reason.
“Maybe I should sit in the back with him?” Chris offered.
“Just get in the ruddy car. Like running a bloody primary school,” Ray huffed and reached for the door handle.
“Boom,” Sam whispered. Ray stopped and stared. “I...I blew you up. Not IRA. Wasn’t...”
“Chris, get him in the damn car so we can leave, alright?” he ordered and flung open the car door, trying to erase from his memory the sight of fire, the sound of exploding metal, and the smell of burnt flesh.
This was the worst decision he had ever made.