Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (15/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (15/?)
Author: dak12
Word Count: 1255 (this part); (20,718 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.
A/N: The Dark Horse Pub is actually a pub in Philadelphia. I borrowed the name because it was a nice name, a nice pub, and I couldn't think of anything better. Please enjoy!
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 Part 14
“You alright back there, Boss?”
“He’s fine. Aren’t you, Tyler?”
“I think he’s sleeping.”
Ray took a glance in his rearview mirror. Sure enough, Sam had his head tilted back against the seat, eyes closed.
“Twonk. Finally gets himself outdoors and he sleeps right through it.”
“You think they’re taking care of him in there?”
“Course. ‘S like a hospital, innit? They know what’s best.”
Sam groaned quietly in his sleep.
“Clothes look a bit loose, don’t they?”
“Sure they do. Everyone loses weight in hospital. Dropped a bit meself when I had me tonsils out two years ago. Don’t you remember?”
“Yeah, but you gained it back soon’s you were let out. They won’t be letting DI Tyler out, will they?”
“It’s up to him. He stops having all them funny turns, they’ll let him go.”
“Ray, do you really think he’s a nutter?”
Sam groaned again, his head falling forward.
“Has to be. Maybe not a natural one. Could’ve been from the RTA, but he ain’t right in the head, Chris. Hasn’t been since we’ve known him.”
“What if Morgan--”
Chris was cut off as Sam shot up and screamed. The car swerved as Ray was startled by the sound. In the mirror, he watched as Tyler reached for the door handle.
“Car’s still bloody moving!” Ray shouted, but Sam paid him no heed as he flung the door open. Ray slammed on the brakes, sending Chris lurching forward as Sam rolled out of the car. Chris leapt out as soon as they were stopped, and ran down the embankment to where Sam had rolled to a stop. Ray put the car in park, shut off the engine, then joined Chris.
Skelton was kneeling down to help up the shaking, but unharmed, man. Before Chris could stand, Sam grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him close.
“It can’t be in my head! This can’t be in my head. Details. Details. All the details, Chris! I think you’re real. I know you’re real. You must be real.”
Ray rushed to Chris’s side and tried to pull Tyler off, but the bastard was still quite strong.
“Sacrifice. I sacrificed everything. Everything, everyone gone, for you! Has to be real. Has to be. I hurt them. Hurt them all. Can’t be for nowt.”
Ray hooked his arms around Tyler’s waist and yanked him back. To his surprise, Sam didn’t fight back, just laid there in Ray’s arms. Ray quickly dropped him and stood back.
“Tell me it’s for something. Tell me it means something!” he cried. “It has to mean something. I’m not that selfish.” He curled himself into a ball, seemingly unaware of the damp ground seeping into his clothes.
“Still think he’s normal?” Ray spat at Chris, turning away from the pathetic scene before him. He stormed back to the car, leaving Chris to deal with the psycho on his own.
*
“I’m hungry,” Sam said detachedly. Chris was sitting with him now, keeping a close eye while mostly ignoring Ray.
“Feeling a bit peaky meself, Boss. Can we stop somewhere?”
“We’re going to a bloody bakery,” Ray snorted.
“I’d like to go to Starbucks,” Sam announced to no one.
“But, I’m hungry for a pie,” Chris whinged.
“We don’t have time for a pie.”
“What year is it?” Sam asked, this time looking at Chris.
“Still 1973, Boss,” he answered.
“Oh. It’s not round here yet, then,” Sam sighed.
“We have time. Just after noon, innit? And we’re nearly in Manchester. I’m a quick eater.”
“Doc says he needs to be back by six. Don’t mean he can’t go back before then.”
“I would like a pie,” Sam decided.
“C’mon, Ray. We can at least get him one good meal ‘fore we give him back.”
Ray looked in his mirror and saw two hopeful faces staring back at him.
“Fine. But you’re paying for his.”
*
The Dark Horse Pub was a cozy, little place on the outskirts of the city, just off the main road. The Guv had taken him there once, on their way back from interviewing a witness. It had been a happy time when the name Sam Tyler meant absolutely nothing to them.
Although it was lunch time, the pub wasn’t crowded - just a few shift workers and some (most likely) unemployed regulars. Ray, and the kiddies he was escorting, sat in a corner table far removed from the other punters. So far, Tyler had been behaving himself since his leap from the car, but Ray was taking no chances.
Their food arrived promptly, and Ray and Chris immediately dug into their meals. Sam, however, simply leaned over his chicken and bacon pie and inhaled deeply - a small smile sneaking it’s way onto his face.
“What is it with you and sniffing things?” Ray scoffed, then grabbed Tyler’s cutlery and slammed it down in front of him. “Eat it ‘fore we send it back.”
“Ray,” Chris scolded, a chunk of food in his mouth.
“What?” he shrugged in return.
Sam, meanwhile, carefully unwrapped his knife and fork, and began cutting into his food.
“See? All he needed were a shove in the right direction,” Ray nodded. The three ate silently for a few minutes before Sam began speaking. Luckily, they were semi-coherent sentences.
“This is a very good pie,” he announced. “Could use some spices. But, it’s very good.”
“Glad to hear, sir,” Chris grinned.
“I can cook. I used to cook. They don’t let me cook. I might forget how.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Chris comforted him.
“I helped Vera cook, once.”
“Mrs. Hunt?” Ray nearly choked on his sausage.
“She made Gene invite me over for tea. I helped her cook, instead of drinking in the sitting room. He called me a poof.”
“So would I,” Ray snorted.
“Gene’s gone now, isn’t he?”
“Not forever, he’s not,” Ray told him.
“It’s not like the Guv to leave his team. He’s very loyal. I admire that.”
“Which is why we think he was taken,” Chris cut in.
“Hm. That’s very probable. He has enemies. He’s the sheriff,” Sam scooped another bit of pie into his mouth.
“We think it might have summit to do with his missus,” Ray added.
“Vera wouldn’t hurt him.” Sam disagreed, examining the piece of chicken on his fork.
“No, but the man she was cheating with might,” Ray pointed out.
“That’s very probable,” Sam agreed. “But only if he was feeling threatened. Do you think this is organic?” He held the fork out to Chris.
“Er, or-what, sir?”
“Organic. It means, nevermind. It tastes alright,” he stuffed the food into his mouth.
“You think the Guv finally confronted Hynes?”
“I wonder if that jukebox plays T. Rex?” Sam tilted his head to the side, staring across the pub.
“We haven’t investigated Hynes. He could be mixed up with some bad blokes. Didn’t Crane used to own a casino near there?”
“It’ll be such a shame when Marc Bolan dies. Tragedy, really,” Sam went back to his pie.
“Tyler. Focus,” Ray ordered. “Tell us what you know about Hynes. You were staking out his place.”
“Same with Ian Curtis. Such a tragedy,” Sam sighed.
“Tell us about Hynes, Sam. Why was he important? You think he had summat to do with the Guv’s disappearance?”
“Disappearance?” Sam asked, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. “Is Gene missing?”
“Oh for...” Ray grumbled. “C’mon. Get your coats. We’re leaving.”
“What about dessert?” Sam asked and pointed to the menu. “They have treacle sponge.”
Author: dak12
Word Count: 1255 (this part); (20,718 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.
A/N: The Dark Horse Pub is actually a pub in Philadelphia. I borrowed the name because it was a nice name, a nice pub, and I couldn't think of anything better. Please enjoy!
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 Part 14
“You alright back there, Boss?”
“He’s fine. Aren’t you, Tyler?”
“I think he’s sleeping.”
Ray took a glance in his rearview mirror. Sure enough, Sam had his head tilted back against the seat, eyes closed.
“Twonk. Finally gets himself outdoors and he sleeps right through it.”
“You think they’re taking care of him in there?”
“Course. ‘S like a hospital, innit? They know what’s best.”
Sam groaned quietly in his sleep.
“Clothes look a bit loose, don’t they?”
“Sure they do. Everyone loses weight in hospital. Dropped a bit meself when I had me tonsils out two years ago. Don’t you remember?”
“Yeah, but you gained it back soon’s you were let out. They won’t be letting DI Tyler out, will they?”
“It’s up to him. He stops having all them funny turns, they’ll let him go.”
“Ray, do you really think he’s a nutter?”
Sam groaned again, his head falling forward.
“Has to be. Maybe not a natural one. Could’ve been from the RTA, but he ain’t right in the head, Chris. Hasn’t been since we’ve known him.”
“What if Morgan--”
Chris was cut off as Sam shot up and screamed. The car swerved as Ray was startled by the sound. In the mirror, he watched as Tyler reached for the door handle.
“Car’s still bloody moving!” Ray shouted, but Sam paid him no heed as he flung the door open. Ray slammed on the brakes, sending Chris lurching forward as Sam rolled out of the car. Chris leapt out as soon as they were stopped, and ran down the embankment to where Sam had rolled to a stop. Ray put the car in park, shut off the engine, then joined Chris.
Skelton was kneeling down to help up the shaking, but unharmed, man. Before Chris could stand, Sam grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him close.
“It can’t be in my head! This can’t be in my head. Details. Details. All the details, Chris! I think you’re real. I know you’re real. You must be real.”
Ray rushed to Chris’s side and tried to pull Tyler off, but the bastard was still quite strong.
“Sacrifice. I sacrificed everything. Everything, everyone gone, for you! Has to be real. Has to be. I hurt them. Hurt them all. Can’t be for nowt.”
Ray hooked his arms around Tyler’s waist and yanked him back. To his surprise, Sam didn’t fight back, just laid there in Ray’s arms. Ray quickly dropped him and stood back.
“Tell me it’s for something. Tell me it means something!” he cried. “It has to mean something. I’m not that selfish.” He curled himself into a ball, seemingly unaware of the damp ground seeping into his clothes.
“Still think he’s normal?” Ray spat at Chris, turning away from the pathetic scene before him. He stormed back to the car, leaving Chris to deal with the psycho on his own.
*
“I’m hungry,” Sam said detachedly. Chris was sitting with him now, keeping a close eye while mostly ignoring Ray.
“Feeling a bit peaky meself, Boss. Can we stop somewhere?”
“We’re going to a bloody bakery,” Ray snorted.
“I’d like to go to Starbucks,” Sam announced to no one.
“But, I’m hungry for a pie,” Chris whinged.
“We don’t have time for a pie.”
“What year is it?” Sam asked, this time looking at Chris.
“Still 1973, Boss,” he answered.
“Oh. It’s not round here yet, then,” Sam sighed.
“We have time. Just after noon, innit? And we’re nearly in Manchester. I’m a quick eater.”
“Doc says he needs to be back by six. Don’t mean he can’t go back before then.”
“I would like a pie,” Sam decided.
“C’mon, Ray. We can at least get him one good meal ‘fore we give him back.”
Ray looked in his mirror and saw two hopeful faces staring back at him.
“Fine. But you’re paying for his.”
*
The Dark Horse Pub was a cozy, little place on the outskirts of the city, just off the main road. The Guv had taken him there once, on their way back from interviewing a witness. It had been a happy time when the name Sam Tyler meant absolutely nothing to them.
Although it was lunch time, the pub wasn’t crowded - just a few shift workers and some (most likely) unemployed regulars. Ray, and the kiddies he was escorting, sat in a corner table far removed from the other punters. So far, Tyler had been behaving himself since his leap from the car, but Ray was taking no chances.
Their food arrived promptly, and Ray and Chris immediately dug into their meals. Sam, however, simply leaned over his chicken and bacon pie and inhaled deeply - a small smile sneaking it’s way onto his face.
“What is it with you and sniffing things?” Ray scoffed, then grabbed Tyler’s cutlery and slammed it down in front of him. “Eat it ‘fore we send it back.”
“Ray,” Chris scolded, a chunk of food in his mouth.
“What?” he shrugged in return.
Sam, meanwhile, carefully unwrapped his knife and fork, and began cutting into his food.
“See? All he needed were a shove in the right direction,” Ray nodded. The three ate silently for a few minutes before Sam began speaking. Luckily, they were semi-coherent sentences.
“This is a very good pie,” he announced. “Could use some spices. But, it’s very good.”
“Glad to hear, sir,” Chris grinned.
“I can cook. I used to cook. They don’t let me cook. I might forget how.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Chris comforted him.
“I helped Vera cook, once.”
“Mrs. Hunt?” Ray nearly choked on his sausage.
“She made Gene invite me over for tea. I helped her cook, instead of drinking in the sitting room. He called me a poof.”
“So would I,” Ray snorted.
“Gene’s gone now, isn’t he?”
“Not forever, he’s not,” Ray told him.
“It’s not like the Guv to leave his team. He’s very loyal. I admire that.”
“Which is why we think he was taken,” Chris cut in.
“Hm. That’s very probable. He has enemies. He’s the sheriff,” Sam scooped another bit of pie into his mouth.
“We think it might have summit to do with his missus,” Ray added.
“Vera wouldn’t hurt him.” Sam disagreed, examining the piece of chicken on his fork.
“No, but the man she was cheating with might,” Ray pointed out.
“That’s very probable,” Sam agreed. “But only if he was feeling threatened. Do you think this is organic?” He held the fork out to Chris.
“Er, or-what, sir?”
“Organic. It means, nevermind. It tastes alright,” he stuffed the food into his mouth.
“You think the Guv finally confronted Hynes?”
“I wonder if that jukebox plays T. Rex?” Sam tilted his head to the side, staring across the pub.
“We haven’t investigated Hynes. He could be mixed up with some bad blokes. Didn’t Crane used to own a casino near there?”
“It’ll be such a shame when Marc Bolan dies. Tragedy, really,” Sam went back to his pie.
“Tyler. Focus,” Ray ordered. “Tell us what you know about Hynes. You were staking out his place.”
“Same with Ian Curtis. Such a tragedy,” Sam sighed.
“Tell us about Hynes, Sam. Why was he important? You think he had summat to do with the Guv’s disappearance?”
“Disappearance?” Sam asked, his fork frozen halfway to his mouth. “Is Gene missing?”
“Oh for...” Ray grumbled. “C’mon. Get your coats. We’re leaving.”
“What about dessert?” Sam asked and pointed to the menu. “They have treacle sponge.”