Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (60/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (60/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1967 (this part); (88,870) in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: increased angst quotient, irresponsible drinking
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: Almost at the end. Another 2-3 parts I think. 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 Part 53 Part 54
Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59
“’S not true...mean...I liked ‘er for more’n ‘er tits. Bitch din’t b’lieve me, tha’s ‘er problem,” Ray wobbly lifted his pint glass. “Mean, liked ‘er arse, too,” he shrugged, then raised the glass to his lips. He kept tip, tip, tipping it, but no drink was forthcoming. Ray first thought the ale was stuck in the glass. It was only until he lifted it to his eye and looked through the bottom that he noticed the glass was, in fact, empty.
“Chris. Chris,” he elbowed the boy next to him. “Chris!”
“What?” Chris groggily asked, lifting his head from the sticky table.
“Chris.”
“What?”
“Me glass is empty,” he said, then belched.
“Good,” Chris yawned.
“Go on, then. Your round. Get us ‘nother,” Ray elbowed him some more.
“Always my round,” he griped.
“And?”
“And Nelson’s giving us the eye,” Chris nodded to the bar.
“What eye? What for?” Ray tried to adjust his focus to the figure behind the bar. He could only make out a dark blur.
“Think he wants us to leave.”
“What? You mean, chuckin’ out time? Already?”
“Everyone else’s already left.”
“They have?” Ray glared around the pub. It was completely empty save him, Chris, and the disgruntled barman. “When’d that ‘appen?”
“While ago, I think. C’mon mate. Let’s get you home,” Chris rose from his chair and slipped on his coat. Ray was still shocked to see the Arms was empty. Clive was gone. Geoff was gone. Was Vince ever here? And what had happened to that nice looking bird who’d accidentally wandered into the wrong pub? Ray thought they had hit it off nicely, but she was gone, too. And what about the Guv?”
“Ray. C’mon. Hurry up.”
Ray realized he was still sitting.
“I am,” he grumbled and stood on shaky legs. Chris caught him by the elbow. “Geroff, you fairy,” he grunted, shaking his arm free. It took several minutes, but once his jacket was finally in place, he weaved his way to the door - his body attempting to keep up with his vision.
And what about the Guv? When did he slink off into the night like the snake he was? Didn’t even give Ray the chance to fight back, the bastard. Hurts a man’s pride, or something, when he’s not allowed a fair fight, Ray thought.
“Uhm, we’re at your car,” Chris announced. Ray realized his hands were resting on the car’s roof.
“That we are,” he said and rummaged in his pockets for his keys.
“Why don’t you let me drive?” Chris offered. Ray snorted.
“You ain’t touching me car.”
“You’ve let me drive it before.”
“Tha’s cos...tha’s cos...Well, I can’t remember why tha’ were, but you ain’t drivin’ it now,” Ray produced the keys from his pocket and waved them in Chris’ face.
“Don’t...don’t you think, maybe, well, you’ve had a bit much to drink. Ray?”
“Bollocks. Had as much as you.”
“Think I slept most of it off,” Chris pondered, stretching his neck.
“Jus’ get in, yeh div. I’ll take yeh ‘ome,” Ray attempted to get the key and the lock in the same place, at the same time.
“I don’t...c’mon, Ray. Even the Guv wouldn’t drive like this.”
“The Guv? Wha’s ‘e to do with owt? Oi, ‘ang on. You two were chattin’ like a pair o’ schoolgirls in there. What were all that about?” Ray temporarily gave up fitting the key into the lock and glared at Chris.
“Oh. Erm,” Chris nervously itched the back of his head. “Just, you know, catching up, like.”
“Oi, even ‘alf-cut I can tell when you’re lyin’, you berk. Wha’ were you talkin’ ‘bout?”
“Nowt to worry about, Ray. Come on. Let me drive,” Chris reached for the keys. Ray yanked them back, nearly overbalancing himself. His back slammed into the car, keeping him upright.
“’M tired of pricks like you lyin’ to me, alright? For once, can’t someone tell me the bloody truth? Or ain’t I good enough to know, eh?
“You’re pissed, mate.”
“Don’t mean I can be lied to!”
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground, kicking an errant stone with his shoe.
“We were talking about me...r...” he mumbled the second part, avoiding Ray’s gaze.
“Your what?”
“Me resignation!” Chris shouted, glaring at Ray, then quickly looking away.
“Wait. Whoa. ‘Ang on. Thought you gave up that nonsense.”
“No. Just...I promised you I’d stay on till we found the Guv. We found the Guv...”
“So you’re quittin’? Jus’ like that? Givin’ up?”
“I can’t do this anymore, Ray.”
If Ray was less drunk, he would have felt pity for Chris, would have noticed the sad look in the poor lad’s eyes. As it was, he was completely bladdered.
“You nancy-boy poofter! Go on then. Get out! Don’t want queers like you on the force anyhow,” Ray spun back to his car, finally managing to fit the key in the lock.
“Ray, wait...”
He didn’t listen as he opened the driver’s side door and plopped himself inside.
“Can’t we talk about...”
He slammed the door in Chris’ face. That didn’t stop Skelton from knocking on the window.
“Ray wait. C’mon. Let me explain!”
Somehow, the key found its way into the ignition and Ray revved the engine before peeling off down the street. He didn’t even spare a glance in his rearview mirror, but he hoped he’d left Chris covered in dust as he sped away.
Resignation? How could Chris do that to him? Skelton had just been under a lot of stress, what with the Guv gone and all. Now that Gene was back, things were supposed to get back to normal. The div was supposed to realize he was just being a girl and forget that whole quitting nonsense.
Gene clearly hadn’t changed Chris’ mind, then. Ray was certain Gene could talk him out of it, if he wanted to. But, no. It looked like the Guv had only enforced the idea.
“Cheers, Guv. Kickin’ out me best mate. Thank you very much. Bet it thrills yeh, don’t it? Gettin’ rid o’ Chris to make me miserable, you selfish bastard.”
Ray slammed his hand on the steering wheel. As he sped down the road, the car drifted onto the pavement. Ray didn’t notice until he slammed into a set of metal bins. He jerked the wheel and put the car back on the street.
“Jus’ cos you’re the Guv, you can do owt, ain’t that right? Don’t matter who it...what it does to other people? Ain’t that right? Ain’t it?”
Ray’s car swerved to the left. He forced it back to the right before he hit the lamp post.
What was the point, screaming to himself? Talking to yourself didn’t do anything, except get you locked up. Tyler could tell you that.
Tyler.
Bloody Tyler, sitting there, all cozy and cared for in the Guv’s house when he should be at the funny farm getting his brains worked over. It wasn’t fair.
Instead of turning right to go home, Ray turned left. No point in whining to himself. No. He wanted a fight. A fair fight. Then Gene would understand. Ray would make him understand. Gene liked Ray for his fists? Then Ray would use his fists.
The car weaved its way down the street, finally coming to a stop on the pavement in front of Gene’s house. He flung open the car door, leaving it hanging open as he stumbled up to the Hunt house.
“Open up!” he ordered, banging on the front door. “Open up ‘fore I open it up!”
No one answered. Not even a light flicked on.
“Bastard. Ig...Ignorin’ me like that. Guess I’ll ‘ave to let meself in, won’t I?”
Ray, still having the keys to Gene’s house, tracked down the proper one, and let himself inside.
“Where are yeh, you bastard?” he called out. There was no answer. He staggered through each room downstairs, finding no one.
“Upstairs, then? Or at your girlfriend’s, eh?”
He stumbled up the staircase and headed to the master bedroom. He slammed the door open and flipped on the light.
“Found yeh!...Oh.”
The bed and bedroom were empty. No Gene. No Vera, either.
“Hidin’ from me. Coward.”
He tripped backwards out of the room and made his way down the hall to spare room.
“Bet you’re in ‘ere, aren’t yeh?” Ray pushed open the door and switched on the light.
“Ray?” came a voice from the bed.
“Oh. ‘S you,” he sighed with disgust.
Sam rubbed his bleary eyes with his free hand, the other being cuffed to the bed.
“You’re still ‘ere,” Ray sneered.
“Can’t really go anywhere,” Sam shook his cuffed wrist. “What’re you doing here, Carling? And how much have you had to drink?”
Ray stared at him. Stared at the man in the bed, his anger, his confusion, and his drink churning up the hatred in his belly.
“You changed everything,” he hissed.
“Come again?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation, as always.
“He thinks you’re perfect, don’t he?”
“Ray, I’m not...”
“You can kill a man and he’ll find excuses for it. I kill a man and he takes me post for it.”
“Ray, I lost my job. I...” Sam tried to reason, struggling to grasp onto the conversation.
“He still calls you his DI. Hasn’t even tried to fill the post. Like he thinks you’re coming back or summat.”
“Maybe you should discuss this with Gene.”
“I’m discussing it with you!”
“Okay...”
A glint of metal caught his eye and Ray spotted the handcuff keys sitting on the old dresser which rested on the opposite side of the room. He went over and grabbed them, then stumbled back to the bed.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Shut it,” he growled as he fumbled with the handcuffs.
“Ray, what’re you doing?”
“We’re goin’ to have a discussion, Twilliams. Best way I know how.”
“Look, Carling. Why don’t we wait for Gene...”
The cuffs fell off Sam’s wrists, freeing him from the bed. Sam didn’t move.
“Up,” Ray ordered.
“I...”
“I said up!” Ray grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him out of the bed. Sam, unable to gain his footing, fell to the floor.
“Come on, Twilliams. Get up!”
He didn’t wait to see if Sam would rise, but grabbed him by his bad arm and yanked him to his feet. Sam’s feet stumbled but maintained his uncertain footing.
“Ray, calm down. Think about what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing? I’m doing what I do best, Boss. Doing what the Guv always wants me to do - thinking with me fists.”
He punched Sam in the jaw.
Sam staggered into the hallway.
“Ray, wait. I, I can’t...”
Ray shoved him again. Sam fell to the floor. He crawled backwards, trying to get away.
“Come on, Gladys. Put some effort into it.”
“Ray. Stop. Just, look what you’re doing and stop,” Sam asked calmly, but Ray could see the fear in his eyes, fear he put there. He reached down and yanked Sam up by his bedshirt.
“We’re having a discussion, sir. Now be a man and discuss!”
He let go of Sam’s shirt and waited for a punch. Waited for a tussle, like the one they’d had in the locker room over the Billy Kemble tape. He waited for Tyler to throw him against the wall and beat the ever-living tar out of him.
The punch never came.
Instead, Sam’s weak legs were unable to support his weight. His eyes wide with panic, Sam grasped at the walls for purchase. He found none. His fingers slipped off the wallpaper and he tumbled backwards down the stairs.
The world stopped as Ray stood at the top of the staircase and stared at the motionless body below.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1967 (this part); (88,870) in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: increased angst quotient, irresponsible drinking
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: Almost at the end. Another 2-3 parts I think. 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 Part 53 Part 54
Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59
“’S not true...mean...I liked ‘er for more’n ‘er tits. Bitch din’t b’lieve me, tha’s ‘er problem,” Ray wobbly lifted his pint glass. “Mean, liked ‘er arse, too,” he shrugged, then raised the glass to his lips. He kept tip, tip, tipping it, but no drink was forthcoming. Ray first thought the ale was stuck in the glass. It was only until he lifted it to his eye and looked through the bottom that he noticed the glass was, in fact, empty.
“Chris. Chris,” he elbowed the boy next to him. “Chris!”
“What?” Chris groggily asked, lifting his head from the sticky table.
“Chris.”
“What?”
“Me glass is empty,” he said, then belched.
“Good,” Chris yawned.
“Go on, then. Your round. Get us ‘nother,” Ray elbowed him some more.
“Always my round,” he griped.
“And?”
“And Nelson’s giving us the eye,” Chris nodded to the bar.
“What eye? What for?” Ray tried to adjust his focus to the figure behind the bar. He could only make out a dark blur.
“Think he wants us to leave.”
“What? You mean, chuckin’ out time? Already?”
“Everyone else’s already left.”
“They have?” Ray glared around the pub. It was completely empty save him, Chris, and the disgruntled barman. “When’d that ‘appen?”
“While ago, I think. C’mon mate. Let’s get you home,” Chris rose from his chair and slipped on his coat. Ray was still shocked to see the Arms was empty. Clive was gone. Geoff was gone. Was Vince ever here? And what had happened to that nice looking bird who’d accidentally wandered into the wrong pub? Ray thought they had hit it off nicely, but she was gone, too. And what about the Guv?”
“Ray. C’mon. Hurry up.”
Ray realized he was still sitting.
“I am,” he grumbled and stood on shaky legs. Chris caught him by the elbow. “Geroff, you fairy,” he grunted, shaking his arm free. It took several minutes, but once his jacket was finally in place, he weaved his way to the door - his body attempting to keep up with his vision.
And what about the Guv? When did he slink off into the night like the snake he was? Didn’t even give Ray the chance to fight back, the bastard. Hurts a man’s pride, or something, when he’s not allowed a fair fight, Ray thought.
“Uhm, we’re at your car,” Chris announced. Ray realized his hands were resting on the car’s roof.
“That we are,” he said and rummaged in his pockets for his keys.
“Why don’t you let me drive?” Chris offered. Ray snorted.
“You ain’t touching me car.”
“You’ve let me drive it before.”
“Tha’s cos...tha’s cos...Well, I can’t remember why tha’ were, but you ain’t drivin’ it now,” Ray produced the keys from his pocket and waved them in Chris’ face.
“Don’t...don’t you think, maybe, well, you’ve had a bit much to drink. Ray?”
“Bollocks. Had as much as you.”
“Think I slept most of it off,” Chris pondered, stretching his neck.
“Jus’ get in, yeh div. I’ll take yeh ‘ome,” Ray attempted to get the key and the lock in the same place, at the same time.
“I don’t...c’mon, Ray. Even the Guv wouldn’t drive like this.”
“The Guv? Wha’s ‘e to do with owt? Oi, ‘ang on. You two were chattin’ like a pair o’ schoolgirls in there. What were all that about?” Ray temporarily gave up fitting the key into the lock and glared at Chris.
“Oh. Erm,” Chris nervously itched the back of his head. “Just, you know, catching up, like.”
“Oi, even ‘alf-cut I can tell when you’re lyin’, you berk. Wha’ were you talkin’ ‘bout?”
“Nowt to worry about, Ray. Come on. Let me drive,” Chris reached for the keys. Ray yanked them back, nearly overbalancing himself. His back slammed into the car, keeping him upright.
“’M tired of pricks like you lyin’ to me, alright? For once, can’t someone tell me the bloody truth? Or ain’t I good enough to know, eh?
“You’re pissed, mate.”
“Don’t mean I can be lied to!”
Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground, kicking an errant stone with his shoe.
“We were talking about me...r...” he mumbled the second part, avoiding Ray’s gaze.
“Your what?”
“Me resignation!” Chris shouted, glaring at Ray, then quickly looking away.
“Wait. Whoa. ‘Ang on. Thought you gave up that nonsense.”
“No. Just...I promised you I’d stay on till we found the Guv. We found the Guv...”
“So you’re quittin’? Jus’ like that? Givin’ up?”
“I can’t do this anymore, Ray.”
If Ray was less drunk, he would have felt pity for Chris, would have noticed the sad look in the poor lad’s eyes. As it was, he was completely bladdered.
“You nancy-boy poofter! Go on then. Get out! Don’t want queers like you on the force anyhow,” Ray spun back to his car, finally managing to fit the key in the lock.
“Ray, wait...”
He didn’t listen as he opened the driver’s side door and plopped himself inside.
“Can’t we talk about...”
He slammed the door in Chris’ face. That didn’t stop Skelton from knocking on the window.
“Ray wait. C’mon. Let me explain!”
Somehow, the key found its way into the ignition and Ray revved the engine before peeling off down the street. He didn’t even spare a glance in his rearview mirror, but he hoped he’d left Chris covered in dust as he sped away.
Resignation? How could Chris do that to him? Skelton had just been under a lot of stress, what with the Guv gone and all. Now that Gene was back, things were supposed to get back to normal. The div was supposed to realize he was just being a girl and forget that whole quitting nonsense.
Gene clearly hadn’t changed Chris’ mind, then. Ray was certain Gene could talk him out of it, if he wanted to. But, no. It looked like the Guv had only enforced the idea.
“Cheers, Guv. Kickin’ out me best mate. Thank you very much. Bet it thrills yeh, don’t it? Gettin’ rid o’ Chris to make me miserable, you selfish bastard.”
Ray slammed his hand on the steering wheel. As he sped down the road, the car drifted onto the pavement. Ray didn’t notice until he slammed into a set of metal bins. He jerked the wheel and put the car back on the street.
“Jus’ cos you’re the Guv, you can do owt, ain’t that right? Don’t matter who it...what it does to other people? Ain’t that right? Ain’t it?”
Ray’s car swerved to the left. He forced it back to the right before he hit the lamp post.
What was the point, screaming to himself? Talking to yourself didn’t do anything, except get you locked up. Tyler could tell you that.
Tyler.
Bloody Tyler, sitting there, all cozy and cared for in the Guv’s house when he should be at the funny farm getting his brains worked over. It wasn’t fair.
Instead of turning right to go home, Ray turned left. No point in whining to himself. No. He wanted a fight. A fair fight. Then Gene would understand. Ray would make him understand. Gene liked Ray for his fists? Then Ray would use his fists.
The car weaved its way down the street, finally coming to a stop on the pavement in front of Gene’s house. He flung open the car door, leaving it hanging open as he stumbled up to the Hunt house.
“Open up!” he ordered, banging on the front door. “Open up ‘fore I open it up!”
No one answered. Not even a light flicked on.
“Bastard. Ig...Ignorin’ me like that. Guess I’ll ‘ave to let meself in, won’t I?”
Ray, still having the keys to Gene’s house, tracked down the proper one, and let himself inside.
“Where are yeh, you bastard?” he called out. There was no answer. He staggered through each room downstairs, finding no one.
“Upstairs, then? Or at your girlfriend’s, eh?”
He stumbled up the staircase and headed to the master bedroom. He slammed the door open and flipped on the light.
“Found yeh!...Oh.”
The bed and bedroom were empty. No Gene. No Vera, either.
“Hidin’ from me. Coward.”
He tripped backwards out of the room and made his way down the hall to spare room.
“Bet you’re in ‘ere, aren’t yeh?” Ray pushed open the door and switched on the light.
“Ray?” came a voice from the bed.
“Oh. ‘S you,” he sighed with disgust.
Sam rubbed his bleary eyes with his free hand, the other being cuffed to the bed.
“You’re still ‘ere,” Ray sneered.
“Can’t really go anywhere,” Sam shook his cuffed wrist. “What’re you doing here, Carling? And how much have you had to drink?”
Ray stared at him. Stared at the man in the bed, his anger, his confusion, and his drink churning up the hatred in his belly.
“You changed everything,” he hissed.
“Come again?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation, as always.
“He thinks you’re perfect, don’t he?”
“Ray, I’m not...”
“You can kill a man and he’ll find excuses for it. I kill a man and he takes me post for it.”
“Ray, I lost my job. I...” Sam tried to reason, struggling to grasp onto the conversation.
“He still calls you his DI. Hasn’t even tried to fill the post. Like he thinks you’re coming back or summat.”
“Maybe you should discuss this with Gene.”
“I’m discussing it with you!”
“Okay...”
A glint of metal caught his eye and Ray spotted the handcuff keys sitting on the old dresser which rested on the opposite side of the room. He went over and grabbed them, then stumbled back to the bed.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Shut it,” he growled as he fumbled with the handcuffs.
“Ray, what’re you doing?”
“We’re goin’ to have a discussion, Twilliams. Best way I know how.”
“Look, Carling. Why don’t we wait for Gene...”
The cuffs fell off Sam’s wrists, freeing him from the bed. Sam didn’t move.
“Up,” Ray ordered.
“I...”
“I said up!” Ray grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him out of the bed. Sam, unable to gain his footing, fell to the floor.
“Come on, Twilliams. Get up!”
He didn’t wait to see if Sam would rise, but grabbed him by his bad arm and yanked him to his feet. Sam’s feet stumbled but maintained his uncertain footing.
“Ray, calm down. Think about what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing? I’m doing what I do best, Boss. Doing what the Guv always wants me to do - thinking with me fists.”
He punched Sam in the jaw.
Sam staggered into the hallway.
“Ray, wait. I, I can’t...”
Ray shoved him again. Sam fell to the floor. He crawled backwards, trying to get away.
“Come on, Gladys. Put some effort into it.”
“Ray. Stop. Just, look what you’re doing and stop,” Sam asked calmly, but Ray could see the fear in his eyes, fear he put there. He reached down and yanked Sam up by his bedshirt.
“We’re having a discussion, sir. Now be a man and discuss!”
He let go of Sam’s shirt and waited for a punch. Waited for a tussle, like the one they’d had in the locker room over the Billy Kemble tape. He waited for Tyler to throw him against the wall and beat the ever-living tar out of him.
The punch never came.
Instead, Sam’s weak legs were unable to support his weight. His eyes wide with panic, Sam grasped at the walls for purchase. He found none. His fingers slipped off the wallpaper and he tumbled backwards down the stairs.
The world stopped as Ray stood at the top of the staircase and stared at the motionless body below.