Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (53/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (53/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1326 (this part); (77,531 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none for this part
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: I'm taking some job anxiety out on Sam. Erm...sorry, Sam. 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 Part 15
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28
Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41
Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52
It felt as if Gene had radioed for the ambulance hours ago though in reality it had only been seconds. Ray crouched on his haunches, watching as Gene slapped, shook, and shouted at Sam.
“C’mon, Sam,” Gene urged, gripping Tyler by the chin and holding his face up.
“He’s breathing, ain’t he?” Ray asked cautiously, hoping he hadn’t imagined seeing Sam’s chest rise and fall.
“He’s breathing and he has a pulse. Sorry sod just don’t want to wake up, do you Gladys?”
Sam made a noise somewhere between a moan and a word, but his eyes never fluttered.
“Carling, check the stall. See if you can find more of them pill bottles.”
Ray nodded, glad to stretch his legs after his awkward position on the floor. He stepped over to the end stall and, careful not to touch anything (the floors and walls too grimy for even Ray’s standards), he searched the area. There was nothing in the toilet itself, nothing on the right side of the stall. He craned his neck to the left and there, in the far corner, was a crumpled and damp brown paper bag.
Ray reached for the bag and, as he grasped the corner, tore the wet paper, sending pill bottles bouncing to the floor. He tossed the ruined bag aside and gathered up the four bottles that had rolled across the gritty floor.
“Found ‘em, Guv,” he announced, backing out of the stall.
“Any left?”
Ray shook the bottles.
“Aye. Not as many as what I left him with, but they’re not empty.”
Sam groaned again and Ray hurried back to help the Guv, stuffing the bottles into his pocket.
“That’s it, Tyler. Keep fighting,” Gene encouraged him. “Ray?”
“Hm?”
“Where’d he get the busted lip and bruises?” Gene was carefully examining Sam’s passive face.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Obviously not.”
“Someone broke into Fox Hollow. Roughed him up. Where he got the cut on his arm, as well.”
Gene pushed back the camel hair coat and reached for Sam’s arm.
“Erm, other one, Guv.”
Gene switched arms and pulled up Sam’s sleeve, revealing the now tattered and yellowed gauze, and the clearly infected wound beneath.
“I thought he would’ve told you,” Ray said, staring at the sore arm.
“He never tells me what’s going on in there. He don’t want me thinking he can’t handle it,” Gene pulled down the sleeve and covered the arm with his coat. Ray wasn’t sure if “it” meant in the asylum or inside Sam’s head. He had the sinking suspicion Gene meant both.
“He didn’t tell you about Bresson, then.”
“Who?” Gene asked, studying Sam’s face for any signs of life. Sam was groaning a bit more and appeared to wince at one point.
“His roommate, James Bresson. We pulled his body out of the canal day after he were released. Soon after, Tyler was attacked. Think it could be related. Chris and Cartwright are working that case.”
“He didn’t tell me,” Gene sighed. “Not a bloody word.”
“Uhgnnn...” Sam’s head rolled backwards of its own accord.
“Sam?” Gene shook him by the shoulder. Sam let his head fall forward. Gene tipped it back up. “Snap to it, Marjorie,” Gene growled. Finally, Sam’s eyelids fluttered. “Look at me, Tyler. That’s an order. Pretend you follow ‘em.”
Sam wrestled once more with his eyelids, finally locking them into a half-open position.
“G...Guv,” he stuttered, fighting to stay conscious.
“That’s right. The Gene Genie’s got you, Sammy-boy.”
Ray heard the note of relief in Gene’s voice. He hadn’t heard it when Gene had seen him for the first time in weeks. Ray clenched his fist and bit back the jealousy. This was neither the time nor the place.
“Gene,” Sam’s body twitched as he tried to move.
“Stay still, Sam.”
“I...I...’e’s dead, Gene,” Sam struggled to move.
“Shh. Stay still,” Gene tried to calm him.
“I...killed ‘im. I...killed ‘im,” Sam’s slurred voice was rising to a panic.
“Sam. Calm down. You’re not well, alright? You have to stay calm.”
“I’m...I’m...a freaking...”
“Sam.”
“...b-bastard...”
“Relax, Sam.”
“...murderer.”
Sam began to hyperventilate, his feet meekly scrambling for purchase. Gene grabbed him by both shoulders, forcing Sam to look him in the eye.
“Tyler. Shut it,” he growled, and Sam did, staring at the Guv, mouth opening and closing as the panic continued to fill his clouded eyes. He shifted his gaze, looking past Gene, just as Ray heard the distant ambulance sirens.
“Gene...” Sam’s voice had become a tinny whisper.
“Ray, go outside. Flag down the ambulance.”
“Gene,” Sam gripped Gene’s arms as tight as he could. “Sh-she’s here, Gene.”
“Don’t, Sam,” Gene’s voice added its own hint of panic. “Don’t do this.”
“Keep her away. Please.”
“Stay with me, Tyler. Don’t you dare lose it.”
“N-no. No!” Sam let go of Gene, waving his hands in front of his face. “Leave me alone!”
The sirens grew louder.
“Dammit, Sam,” Gene hissed, trying to draw him out of it. “Ray! Get that bloody ambulance ‘fore it drives right past!” he shouted, eyes blazing as he struggled to control Sam’s flailing arms.
“Please, don’t!” Sam cried out, body trembling.
Ray legged it out of the public toilet, the now heavy rain a refreshing rush from the claustrophobic toilets. He saw the dark green ambulance speeding down the Mall and ran to the edge of the road, waving his arms hurriedly to attract the drivers’ attention. The ambulance pulled over to the side and the drivers leapt out.
“He’s in there,” Ray pointed to the toilets. The men grabbed a stretcher and followed Ray to the small enclosure. As they entered, Gene was still attempting to calm an increasingly panicked Sam.
“She’s not here, Sam. She’s not here,” he repeated over and over as Sam continued to shout at and threaten his hallucination.
The ambulance drivers faltered, taken off-guard by the oddity of the situation.
“He has a condition,” Gene informed them, though it sounded more like a threat. “Now get him on that stretcher and to the nearest bloody hospital ‘fore I rip off your knackers and shove ‘em so far up your arse, you’ll be spitting ‘em out your gob!” That certainly was a threat.
The men hesitated no longer. One took Sam by the shoulders and the other by his feet, and together they lifted him onto the stiff board. Sam, still fidgeting and fighting, threatened to fall off and the men were forced to strap him to the board in order to move him safely.
“Watch his arm,” Gene ordered, pointing out the infected laceration.
Ray stood back as Sam was loaded into the ambulance. He watched as Gene spoke briefly to the drivers then stood back. The doors were closed and the ambulance turned round and took off.
Ray waited for Gene to walk back to him, anxious to hear his Guv’s next orders. Only when the ambulance was out of sight did Gene turn round and walk the short distance to Ray.
“They shouldn’t have to keep him long. Overnight, most likely. Get us a train back to Manchester, leaving tomorrow afternoon.”
“I drove me car here,” Ray responded quietly.
“Then I guess you’ll be driving,” Gene snapped and spun away. After he’d turned round, he immediately turned back to Ray, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You may have had tiffs with Tyler before, but that is not the same Sam Tyler. What you did was completely inexcusable. He killed a man. He’ll have to live with that the rest of his life. He does not need his team rubbing his nose in it like he were some mangy dog. Do you understand, Sergeant?”
“Yes, Guv,” Ray kept his head up and shoulders back.
“Get me that train,” Gene ordered, then turned his back on him for good, storming off down the Mall.
Ray lowered his head and let his shoulders fall as he walked off in the other direction.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1326 (this part); (77,531 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none for this part
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: I'm taking some job anxiety out on Sam. Erm...sorry, Sam. 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 Part 15
Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28
Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41
Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52
It felt as if Gene had radioed for the ambulance hours ago though in reality it had only been seconds. Ray crouched on his haunches, watching as Gene slapped, shook, and shouted at Sam.
“C’mon, Sam,” Gene urged, gripping Tyler by the chin and holding his face up.
“He’s breathing, ain’t he?” Ray asked cautiously, hoping he hadn’t imagined seeing Sam’s chest rise and fall.
“He’s breathing and he has a pulse. Sorry sod just don’t want to wake up, do you Gladys?”
Sam made a noise somewhere between a moan and a word, but his eyes never fluttered.
“Carling, check the stall. See if you can find more of them pill bottles.”
Ray nodded, glad to stretch his legs after his awkward position on the floor. He stepped over to the end stall and, careful not to touch anything (the floors and walls too grimy for even Ray’s standards), he searched the area. There was nothing in the toilet itself, nothing on the right side of the stall. He craned his neck to the left and there, in the far corner, was a crumpled and damp brown paper bag.
Ray reached for the bag and, as he grasped the corner, tore the wet paper, sending pill bottles bouncing to the floor. He tossed the ruined bag aside and gathered up the four bottles that had rolled across the gritty floor.
“Found ‘em, Guv,” he announced, backing out of the stall.
“Any left?”
Ray shook the bottles.
“Aye. Not as many as what I left him with, but they’re not empty.”
Sam groaned again and Ray hurried back to help the Guv, stuffing the bottles into his pocket.
“That’s it, Tyler. Keep fighting,” Gene encouraged him. “Ray?”
“Hm?”
“Where’d he get the busted lip and bruises?” Gene was carefully examining Sam’s passive face.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Obviously not.”
“Someone broke into Fox Hollow. Roughed him up. Where he got the cut on his arm, as well.”
Gene pushed back the camel hair coat and reached for Sam’s arm.
“Erm, other one, Guv.”
Gene switched arms and pulled up Sam’s sleeve, revealing the now tattered and yellowed gauze, and the clearly infected wound beneath.
“I thought he would’ve told you,” Ray said, staring at the sore arm.
“He never tells me what’s going on in there. He don’t want me thinking he can’t handle it,” Gene pulled down the sleeve and covered the arm with his coat. Ray wasn’t sure if “it” meant in the asylum or inside Sam’s head. He had the sinking suspicion Gene meant both.
“He didn’t tell you about Bresson, then.”
“Who?” Gene asked, studying Sam’s face for any signs of life. Sam was groaning a bit more and appeared to wince at one point.
“His roommate, James Bresson. We pulled his body out of the canal day after he were released. Soon after, Tyler was attacked. Think it could be related. Chris and Cartwright are working that case.”
“He didn’t tell me,” Gene sighed. “Not a bloody word.”
“Uhgnnn...” Sam’s head rolled backwards of its own accord.
“Sam?” Gene shook him by the shoulder. Sam let his head fall forward. Gene tipped it back up. “Snap to it, Marjorie,” Gene growled. Finally, Sam’s eyelids fluttered. “Look at me, Tyler. That’s an order. Pretend you follow ‘em.”
Sam wrestled once more with his eyelids, finally locking them into a half-open position.
“G...Guv,” he stuttered, fighting to stay conscious.
“That’s right. The Gene Genie’s got you, Sammy-boy.”
Ray heard the note of relief in Gene’s voice. He hadn’t heard it when Gene had seen him for the first time in weeks. Ray clenched his fist and bit back the jealousy. This was neither the time nor the place.
“Gene,” Sam’s body twitched as he tried to move.
“Stay still, Sam.”
“I...I...’e’s dead, Gene,” Sam struggled to move.
“Shh. Stay still,” Gene tried to calm him.
“I...killed ‘im. I...killed ‘im,” Sam’s slurred voice was rising to a panic.
“Sam. Calm down. You’re not well, alright? You have to stay calm.”
“I’m...I’m...a freaking...”
“Sam.”
“...b-bastard...”
“Relax, Sam.”
“...murderer.”
Sam began to hyperventilate, his feet meekly scrambling for purchase. Gene grabbed him by both shoulders, forcing Sam to look him in the eye.
“Tyler. Shut it,” he growled, and Sam did, staring at the Guv, mouth opening and closing as the panic continued to fill his clouded eyes. He shifted his gaze, looking past Gene, just as Ray heard the distant ambulance sirens.
“Gene...” Sam’s voice had become a tinny whisper.
“Ray, go outside. Flag down the ambulance.”
“Gene,” Sam gripped Gene’s arms as tight as he could. “Sh-she’s here, Gene.”
“Don’t, Sam,” Gene’s voice added its own hint of panic. “Don’t do this.”
“Keep her away. Please.”
“Stay with me, Tyler. Don’t you dare lose it.”
“N-no. No!” Sam let go of Gene, waving his hands in front of his face. “Leave me alone!”
The sirens grew louder.
“Dammit, Sam,” Gene hissed, trying to draw him out of it. “Ray! Get that bloody ambulance ‘fore it drives right past!” he shouted, eyes blazing as he struggled to control Sam’s flailing arms.
“Please, don’t!” Sam cried out, body trembling.
Ray legged it out of the public toilet, the now heavy rain a refreshing rush from the claustrophobic toilets. He saw the dark green ambulance speeding down the Mall and ran to the edge of the road, waving his arms hurriedly to attract the drivers’ attention. The ambulance pulled over to the side and the drivers leapt out.
“He’s in there,” Ray pointed to the toilets. The men grabbed a stretcher and followed Ray to the small enclosure. As they entered, Gene was still attempting to calm an increasingly panicked Sam.
“She’s not here, Sam. She’s not here,” he repeated over and over as Sam continued to shout at and threaten his hallucination.
The ambulance drivers faltered, taken off-guard by the oddity of the situation.
“He has a condition,” Gene informed them, though it sounded more like a threat. “Now get him on that stretcher and to the nearest bloody hospital ‘fore I rip off your knackers and shove ‘em so far up your arse, you’ll be spitting ‘em out your gob!” That certainly was a threat.
The men hesitated no longer. One took Sam by the shoulders and the other by his feet, and together they lifted him onto the stiff board. Sam, still fidgeting and fighting, threatened to fall off and the men were forced to strap him to the board in order to move him safely.
“Watch his arm,” Gene ordered, pointing out the infected laceration.
Ray stood back as Sam was loaded into the ambulance. He watched as Gene spoke briefly to the drivers then stood back. The doors were closed and the ambulance turned round and took off.
Ray waited for Gene to walk back to him, anxious to hear his Guv’s next orders. Only when the ambulance was out of sight did Gene turn round and walk the short distance to Ray.
“They shouldn’t have to keep him long. Overnight, most likely. Get us a train back to Manchester, leaving tomorrow afternoon.”
“I drove me car here,” Ray responded quietly.
“Then I guess you’ll be driving,” Gene snapped and spun away. After he’d turned round, he immediately turned back to Ray, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You may have had tiffs with Tyler before, but that is not the same Sam Tyler. What you did was completely inexcusable. He killed a man. He’ll have to live with that the rest of his life. He does not need his team rubbing his nose in it like he were some mangy dog. Do you understand, Sergeant?”
“Yes, Guv,” Ray kept his head up and shoulders back.
“Get me that train,” Gene ordered, then turned his back on him for good, storming off down the Mall.
Ray lowered his head and let his shoulders fall as he walked off in the other direction.