Fic: Steady As She Goes (1/86)
Title: Steady As She Goes (1/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1194
Rating: Blue Cortina
Warnings: angst, mild swearing, severe character injury (but no death...yet)
Summary: An accident at the station results in a life threatening injury for one of the team, and leaves everyone else looking for someone to blame.
Disclaimer: Owned by Kudos/BBC, but if they wanted to give me the rights I wouldn't complain
A/N: So here's my first, posted, fic for the comm! Well, the first part of my first posted fic. I hope you enjoy it. It's un-beta'd so if you see anything that needs fixing, please don't hesitate to let me know. (Crossing my fingers that the lj-cut will work...)
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 Part 60 Part 61 Part 62 Part 63 Part 64 Part 65 Part 66 Part 67 Part 68 Part 69 Part 70 Part 71 Part 72 Part 73 Part 74 Part 75 Part 76 Part 77 Part 78 Part 79 Part 80 Part 81 Part 82 Part 83 Part 84 Part 85 Part 86
“William Buchanan was not involved in the Lloyd Street robberies! He wasn’t witnessed at any of the crime scenes. His name was never mentioned by any of the convicted suspects.”
“Billy Buck’s as rotten as last year’s fruitcake. None of them blags might’ve said it, but he was runnin’ those jobs last month an’ I’d bet me sheriff’s badge he’s the one mastermindin’ this lot!”
The sounds of Hunt and Tyler shouting alerted the station to A-Division’s return. Gene slammed open the front doors, murder in his eyes and a tear in his camel coat. Sam was right behind, rip in his trousers and a bruise forming around his right eye.
Ray and Chris followed a few seconds later, clothes and body parts perfectly intact, apparently immune to the thinly veiled death threats their superior officers were lobbing back and forth.
“Well, she looks just like ‘im. It must be his,” Ray reasoned.
“Unless it’s his brother’s,” Chris countered.
Gene grabbed Sam by his jacket and forced him against the front desk. Phyllis casually moved her notebook and continued to work.
“If you say the word ‘evidence’ one more time Tyler, I’m gonna shove that forensic’s report so far up your jacksie you’ll be shittin’ splatter patterns for a week!”
Sam shoved his hands in between Gene’s arms and pushed out, detaching himself from Hunt’s grasp. “Fine. If you don’t want to accept the evi-, produced physical objects which establish the fact or point into question Buchanan’s innocence, you could at least compare the Lloyd Street witness statements with those from the jeweler’s and see how dissimilar they really are!”
“Which would prove what, Dorothy? Just cos old Billy may not have been involved with Lloyd Street, which he was, don’t mean he’s not behind these!”
Sam pushed Gene aside to find Chris.
“Chris...”
“But how’d he get the torch that far in anyway?”
“DC Skelton!”
“Yes Boss?”
“I need you to go down to the Collator’s Den and pull out the case files on the Lloyd Street robberies.”
Chris sighed, “All of ‘em?”
“Yes, but take considerable care of the witness statements.”
“Right Boss.” Chris dropped his cigarette butt on the floor and strolled off downstairs, hands in his pockets. Without his partner to distract him Ray lit another fag and turned his attention to the current Hunt versus Tyler battle.
The argument, however, was momentarily put on hold as shouting loud enough to drown out Gene and Sam suddenly sounded from above. Out of nowhere a large skinhead came careening down the stairs, broken handcuffs dangling from one wrist.
Litton and his men appeared soon after, all pausing for breath one flight above the ground floor. The escaped man did not stop, but continued down and out of sight.
“What’s the matter, Litton? Afraid of a little sweat on your penguin suit?” Gene scoffed.
“The mayor won’t like that,” Sam smirked as RCS continued their pursuit of the escaped suspect.
Litton, heaving for breath, stopped in front of Gene. “Worry about your own cases DCI Hunt. I can’t clean up after you all the time.”
A single gunshot cut off Gene’s retort, silencing the entire station. For the briefest moment no one moved. No one spoke. No one even breathed. Then, Litton’s men began shouting from below and the station returned to life.
“We got him sir!”
“Outside the collator’s.”
“Shit! Send an ambulance! Officer down!”
Sam remained frozen. “Collator’s...Chris,” he and Gene realized at the same time. Sam tore off down the stairs, feet barely touching the ground. As he approached the filing room he saw the suspect held against the opposite wall, restrained by two of Litton’s men. A gun rested threateningly on the floor. Litton’s two other officers surrounded a body, obscuring Sam’s view of the injured man’s face.
Sam didn’t need to see the man’s face. He recognized those shoes, those pants. He’d seen them just a few minutes ago.
“Move!” Sam pushed away Litton’s men. “Get away from him!”
Sam kneeled by Chris’ side and immediately pressed his hands against the bleeding belly wound. Chris’ eyes were glazed over, his body already going into shock.
“Chris! Can you hear me? Chris!” Sam used one bloody hand to lightly slap the young man’s cheek. Chris rolled his head and groaned slightly. “C’mon Chris. Stay awake. Don’t go to sleep. Don’t go anywhere. Just stay. Stay here.” Sam pressed harder on the wound.
“...’m tired Dad...” Chris mumbled, blood visible in his mouth as he did so.
“It’s not your dad, Chris. It’s Sam. DI Tyler. You have to stay awake, okay?” Chris’ eyelids slowly closed. “That’s an order DC Skelton! Look, the ambulance is coming. It’s almost here. Just hang on. Hang on, Chris. Where the bloody hell is the ambulance?” Sam screamed.
Sam was unaware of everything but Chris. Unaware of the blood pooling around his knees, staining his already torn trousers. Unaware of the ruined files under Chris’ hand. Unaware of Ray crouching down on the other side of Chris’ body, grasping his near-lifeless hand and hurling pathetic insults - his own attempt at keeping Chris conscious.
Sam was unaware of it all. He just pressed his hands harder, the blood seeping through his fingers. He didn’t know what he was shouting anymore. He didn’t even know if he was shouting anymore.
“Sam...” someone said. He couldn’t tell if someone was saying his name, trying to talk to him, or if it was all in his head.
It took strong arms forcibly removing him from Chris’ side for Sam to realize the ambulance drivers had arrived. The arms held him back as he helplessly watched Chris being loaded onto a stretcher and taken away.
“Ray, go with ‘em,” the arms seemed to whisper.
It took Sam a few seconds to realize the arms belonged to someone. It took another few moments to realize they belonged to Gene.
When Gene felt satisfied Sam wasn’t going to race after the stretcher he relaxed his grip and let the slim man push himself away. Sam didn’t move any further, just stared at the ground.
His DI under control, Gene allowed himself to acknowledge what had just happened. Chris had been shot. One of his men had been shot. Seriously wounded. He could feel the anger rising up inside him, threatening to destroy his calm facade. He needed to let it out, release the hatred burning in his chest.
He bent over and scooped up the ruined Lloyd Street case files. He stared at the blood, Chris’ blood, drying on the papers. His hand clenched into a fist around them and he threw them in Sam’s face. Sam didn’t react but continued to stare at the ground.
Gene stepped closer. Their faces now inches apart he kept his voice dangerously low.
“You and your bloody paperwork,” he hissed. Gene left, afraid of what he might do should he remain any longer.
The corridor now empty save him, Sam slowly knelt down and, with shaking hands, collected every piece of paper. Unable to stand, he leaned back against the wall and ever so carefully put the pages back in order.
______
Part 2
Author: dak
Word Count: 1194
Rating: Blue Cortina
Warnings: angst, mild swearing, severe character injury (but no death...yet)
Summary: An accident at the station results in a life threatening injury for one of the team, and leaves everyone else looking for someone to blame.
Disclaimer: Owned by Kudos/BBC, but if they wanted to give me the rights I wouldn't complain
A/N: So here's my first, posted, fic for the comm! Well, the first part of my first posted fic. I hope you enjoy it. It's un-beta'd so if you see anything that needs fixing, please don't hesitate to let me know. (Crossing my fingers that the lj-cut will work...)
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 Part 60 Part 61 Part 62 Part 63 Part 64 Part 65 Part 66 Part 67 Part 68 Part 69 Part 70 Part 71 Part 72 Part 73 Part 74 Part 75 Part 76 Part 77 Part 78 Part 79 Part 80 Part 81 Part 82 Part 83 Part 84 Part 85 Part 86
“William Buchanan was not involved in the Lloyd Street robberies! He wasn’t witnessed at any of the crime scenes. His name was never mentioned by any of the convicted suspects.”
“Billy Buck’s as rotten as last year’s fruitcake. None of them blags might’ve said it, but he was runnin’ those jobs last month an’ I’d bet me sheriff’s badge he’s the one mastermindin’ this lot!”
The sounds of Hunt and Tyler shouting alerted the station to A-Division’s return. Gene slammed open the front doors, murder in his eyes and a tear in his camel coat. Sam was right behind, rip in his trousers and a bruise forming around his right eye.
Ray and Chris followed a few seconds later, clothes and body parts perfectly intact, apparently immune to the thinly veiled death threats their superior officers were lobbing back and forth.
“Well, she looks just like ‘im. It must be his,” Ray reasoned.
“Unless it’s his brother’s,” Chris countered.
Gene grabbed Sam by his jacket and forced him against the front desk. Phyllis casually moved her notebook and continued to work.
“If you say the word ‘evidence’ one more time Tyler, I’m gonna shove that forensic’s report so far up your jacksie you’ll be shittin’ splatter patterns for a week!”
Sam shoved his hands in between Gene’s arms and pushed out, detaching himself from Hunt’s grasp. “Fine. If you don’t want to accept the evi-, produced physical objects which establish the fact or point into question Buchanan’s innocence, you could at least compare the Lloyd Street witness statements with those from the jeweler’s and see how dissimilar they really are!”
“Which would prove what, Dorothy? Just cos old Billy may not have been involved with Lloyd Street, which he was, don’t mean he’s not behind these!”
Sam pushed Gene aside to find Chris.
“Chris...”
“But how’d he get the torch that far in anyway?”
“DC Skelton!”
“Yes Boss?”
“I need you to go down to the Collator’s Den and pull out the case files on the Lloyd Street robberies.”
Chris sighed, “All of ‘em?”
“Yes, but take considerable care of the witness statements.”
“Right Boss.” Chris dropped his cigarette butt on the floor and strolled off downstairs, hands in his pockets. Without his partner to distract him Ray lit another fag and turned his attention to the current Hunt versus Tyler battle.
The argument, however, was momentarily put on hold as shouting loud enough to drown out Gene and Sam suddenly sounded from above. Out of nowhere a large skinhead came careening down the stairs, broken handcuffs dangling from one wrist.
Litton and his men appeared soon after, all pausing for breath one flight above the ground floor. The escaped man did not stop, but continued down and out of sight.
“What’s the matter, Litton? Afraid of a little sweat on your penguin suit?” Gene scoffed.
“The mayor won’t like that,” Sam smirked as RCS continued their pursuit of the escaped suspect.
Litton, heaving for breath, stopped in front of Gene. “Worry about your own cases DCI Hunt. I can’t clean up after you all the time.”
A single gunshot cut off Gene’s retort, silencing the entire station. For the briefest moment no one moved. No one spoke. No one even breathed. Then, Litton’s men began shouting from below and the station returned to life.
“We got him sir!”
“Outside the collator’s.”
“Shit! Send an ambulance! Officer down!”
Sam remained frozen. “Collator’s...Chris,” he and Gene realized at the same time. Sam tore off down the stairs, feet barely touching the ground. As he approached the filing room he saw the suspect held against the opposite wall, restrained by two of Litton’s men. A gun rested threateningly on the floor. Litton’s two other officers surrounded a body, obscuring Sam’s view of the injured man’s face.
Sam didn’t need to see the man’s face. He recognized those shoes, those pants. He’d seen them just a few minutes ago.
“Move!” Sam pushed away Litton’s men. “Get away from him!”
Sam kneeled by Chris’ side and immediately pressed his hands against the bleeding belly wound. Chris’ eyes were glazed over, his body already going into shock.
“Chris! Can you hear me? Chris!” Sam used one bloody hand to lightly slap the young man’s cheek. Chris rolled his head and groaned slightly. “C’mon Chris. Stay awake. Don’t go to sleep. Don’t go anywhere. Just stay. Stay here.” Sam pressed harder on the wound.
“...’m tired Dad...” Chris mumbled, blood visible in his mouth as he did so.
“It’s not your dad, Chris. It’s Sam. DI Tyler. You have to stay awake, okay?” Chris’ eyelids slowly closed. “That’s an order DC Skelton! Look, the ambulance is coming. It’s almost here. Just hang on. Hang on, Chris. Where the bloody hell is the ambulance?” Sam screamed.
Sam was unaware of everything but Chris. Unaware of the blood pooling around his knees, staining his already torn trousers. Unaware of the ruined files under Chris’ hand. Unaware of Ray crouching down on the other side of Chris’ body, grasping his near-lifeless hand and hurling pathetic insults - his own attempt at keeping Chris conscious.
Sam was unaware of it all. He just pressed his hands harder, the blood seeping through his fingers. He didn’t know what he was shouting anymore. He didn’t even know if he was shouting anymore.
“Sam...” someone said. He couldn’t tell if someone was saying his name, trying to talk to him, or if it was all in his head.
It took strong arms forcibly removing him from Chris’ side for Sam to realize the ambulance drivers had arrived. The arms held him back as he helplessly watched Chris being loaded onto a stretcher and taken away.
“Ray, go with ‘em,” the arms seemed to whisper.
It took Sam a few seconds to realize the arms belonged to someone. It took another few moments to realize they belonged to Gene.
When Gene felt satisfied Sam wasn’t going to race after the stretcher he relaxed his grip and let the slim man push himself away. Sam didn’t move any further, just stared at the ground.
His DI under control, Gene allowed himself to acknowledge what had just happened. Chris had been shot. One of his men had been shot. Seriously wounded. He could feel the anger rising up inside him, threatening to destroy his calm facade. He needed to let it out, release the hatred burning in his chest.
He bent over and scooped up the ruined Lloyd Street case files. He stared at the blood, Chris’ blood, drying on the papers. His hand clenched into a fist around them and he threw them in Sam’s face. Sam didn’t react but continued to stare at the ground.
Gene stepped closer. Their faces now inches apart he kept his voice dangerously low.
“You and your bloody paperwork,” he hissed. Gene left, afraid of what he might do should he remain any longer.
The corridor now empty save him, Sam slowly knelt down and, with shaking hands, collected every piece of paper. Unable to stand, he leaned back against the wall and ever so carefully put the pages back in order.
______
Part 2