Fic: Jabberwocky, Part 25b/? Blue Cortina, by Sytaxia
“Annie?” Sam asked, and he looked over to see her spin about nervously in her chair, and felt one of her hands clamp down over his.
“Sam? How much of that did you hear?” Annie asked, and Sam saw the strange set to her eyes and jaw again, and wondered exactly what she had told him while he had been arguing with his double.
“How much of what…” Sam tried to make his face hard as he looked up at Annie, but found that he couldn’t, not when she also looked as if she were on the verge of tears. He tried to lean forward, and felt an odd, muted pain ripple through the flesh over his stomach, just as he felt the dull, throbbing ache of his ribs and back.
“Lie still. Lie still, Sam,” Sam felt Annie’s hand on his shoulder, and he looked over, and saw the gun in her lap.
“Why do you have…” Sam winced, and then laid back against the bed. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he had to fight against the urge to leap forward on the bed when he realized what had happened. “He was here…” Sam felt himself start to shake again, and he tried to fight against the panic that was rising up and threatening to overtake him. “He was here…” Sam felt his breath catch, and realized that he was hyperventilating, or at least coming as close to hyperventilating as his lungs would allow. His chest felt as if it were on fire, his lungs straining within him, and pain surged through his stomach and ribs again as he shook violently on the bed.
“Calm down! Sam! Come on…” Annie stood up and placed the gun on the chair, and then leaned over Sam, taking his face between her hands and leaning in close, her face directly in front of Sam’s. “Sam, you’re panicking, calm down. He’s not here now. I’m here, and so’s the Gov, and we’re going to take you out of here. We’re taking you someplace safe. Sam, please, please, you’ll hurt yourself,” Annie’s voice was thick with suppressed tears and with her own panic as she pleaded with Sam, and he fought against the rush of fear that continued to press down on him, shaking him from within. He concentrated hard on the sound of her voice, and on slowly and deepening his breath. Annie continued to plead, “Sam, please, Sam, it’s all right. Shh… It’s all right, calm down. Calm down. You’re safe, you’re safe. Please, Sam, please, it’s all right. It’s me, it’s Annie.”
Sam eventually got the attack under control, and then lay, gasping, against the bed, Annie’s hands still on the sides of his face, their grip loosening as they moved up and started to stroke his head gently, moving from either side of his forehead down to his jaw. Sam concentrated on the slow, rhythmic motion, and tried to match his breathing with it. They seemed to stay like that for hours, locked together, Annie’s face just a few inches away from his, her eyes bright with fear and concern as they locked onto his. Annie leaned in slightly then, and very gently grazed his lips with hers. Sam barely had a moment to concentrate on the tiny sliver of her taste that he’d received when she pulled back, her eyes shining with barely restrained tears.
“Annie. I’m all right,” Sam eventually said, and Annie pulled back slightly, left side pulling away, and her right hand sliding down Sam’s body to meet with his hand, which she grasped again as she sat down.
“It’s all right, Sam.”
“I know. I know. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry,” Sam said, feeling an embarrassed flush creep up into his cheeks again. “I’m all right now.”
“Good,” Annie said, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “How do you feel?”
Sam winced, not wanting to take full stock of all of his aches and pains, “My stomach hurts. Not inside, outside,” Sam tried to explain, and Annie bit her lower lip. “Annie?”
“He… He was here, and he cut you, Sam. The doctor stitched it up, though,” Annie said, and Sam moved his own right hand slowly towards his abdomen, feeling the bandage that covered him there. “It’s not too deep, it’ll be all right,” Annie said, and Sam pulled his hand away, not wanting to know what was engraved into his skin, but knowing full well what was there.
“It’s the mark.” Sam said, and Annie’s eyes widened.
“It is,” She said, softly, and Sam shut his eyes for a moment, unable to look at the pain that was filling her face.
“At least I won’t forget it, now,” Sam said, not sure of what else to say, and he heard Annie give a short, strangled laugh.
“Yeah.” Annie’s hand tightened on his, and he let his own fingers curve around hers. “Are you all right? Really?”
“I’m fine, Annie. I’m fine.” Sam winced again, “Headache. And my chest hurts, but that’s normal for now, isn’t it? I’m all right. I promise,” he said, and Annie shook her head.
“I’m supposed to be the one promising you that, you know,” she said, and Sam grinned at her.
“You already did. And...” Sam’s eyes widened, and he tried to sit up again, “You’re taking me… What?” He tried to think of what Annie had said earlier, but her words were lost; he hadn’t been able to clearly hear them, over the sounds of his own panic attack.
“The Gov’s taking you out of here. He’s taking you home,” Annie said, and Sam’s mind reeled at the thought of it.
“Home? How… Where…” Sam could think of thousands of questions, but wasn’t sure which one he should ask. His throat tightened on him, then, and he felt his chest start to lurch slightly as the coughs came, once again. He tried to straighten himself up slightly, and then he felt Annie’s hand at the back of his neck, trying to steady him as she held a pile of tissues under his face with her other hand.
When the fit finally passed, Annie threw the soiled tissues away, and Sam grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”
“We’ve been over this before,” Annie’s voice was stern again, and Sam was glad that he couldn’t hear any tears in it, this time. He looked over at her, and she smiled at him. He gave her slight nod, still gasping slightly.
“Yeah. Yeah, we have,” he said, and she chuckled slightly again. “Where… You’re taking me out of here?”
“The Gov says he wants to take you someplace that the killer can’t find you,” Annie said, and Sam tried to consider the possibilities, and drew a blank. Surely Gene wouldn’t take him back to his bedsit, or to Gene’s own house… Williams was sure to know their addresses… Sam tried to think of what Gene had said the night before, when he had described the files that had been taken from Hyde, and he drew a blank and made a mental note to ask to see the files as soon as possible. If the double was alive, and present in 1973, then there was a good chance that he also knew where Sam, and Gene, lived, especially if the double really was from Hyde, and if the Hyde officers had had a file on Gene…
“Sam?” Annie’s voice brought Sam out of his reverie, and he looked at her again.
“I’m all right. Thinking. Do you know where he’s planning on taking me?” Annie shook her head.
“He said…” Annie’s voice was cut off by the sound of the door being flung open, and Sam noticed that she was gripping the butt of the gun in her lap as the figure that had opened the door entered the room. He saw her relax as Gene entered, and then held out his hand to Annie.
“Gun.” He said, and Annie suddenly realized why Gene was holding out his hand. She handed it back to him, and he nodded at her. “And now get your pretty little arse back to his place,” Gene said, gesturing towards Sam. “Clothes, pajamas, any of them poncey science books he might have layin’ about, ‘n case he wants to read one of ‘em. And then get back here. You’ve got one hour,” Gene said, and Annie nodded, and then stood and headed for the door, before turning to look at Gene again.
“Gov, I haven’t got the keys,” she said, and Gene shrugged slightly.
“Kicked it in, last time we were there. If the landlord’s fixed it, kick it back in yourself. Put some weight behind yourself, and shove. Poxy shite for carpentry, it falls apart faster than a soddin’ USSR peace treaty.”
Annie stared at Gene for a moment, a disbelieving expression on her face, and then she sighed, and left. Sam let out his own sigh as Gene tucked his gun back into the holster hidden at the waist of his trousers, and then sat down in the chair next to Sam.
“Annie says you’re taking me out of here?” Sam phrased it like a question, still not sure that he believed it himself.
“I’m taking you home with me. The bastard knows that you’re here, and I’m not leaving you here like a sitting duck, not anymore.” Gene was staring at the floor as he said it, and Sam thought he heard his voice cracking slightly.
“Gov?” Sam asked, and Gene looked up at him, his eyes, thankfully, dry. Sam wasn’t sure that he could handle seeing Gene cry at the moment, or even at all: the thought seemed far too out of character for his rough, gruff DCI.
“I’m taking you home, and Cartwright and I’ll look after you. Denslow gave me some instructions, and said he’d make house calls. Ray’s coming in to help me move you, soon as Annie gets back with your things,” Gene reached over and laid a hand against Sam’s cheek, the gesture still seeming far too odd for him, but the touch incredibly comforting. Sam closed his eyes and turned his face slightly so that he was leaning into Gene’s touch, and then felt Gene’s hand slowly start to stroke the side of his face again. As before, it seemed incredibly unlike Gene, but Sam relished the feeling, either way. “I won’t let that sick twist anywhere near you again, I swear,” Gene said softly, and Sam opened his eyes and looked back at Gene.
“Your place?” Sam asked, suddenly filled with an odd, cold feeling. “Was your address in the files that Morgan had?”
Gene’s hand stopped moving for a minute, and then he withdrew it and ran it through his own hair, and slammed his other hand, curled into a fist, onto his knee. “Bastard! Williams will know my address…” Gene shook his head, and then looked back at Sam, stretching out his hand again and taking Sam’s into it. “I’ll find somewhere. Maybe Cartwright’s flat…” Gene was still musing on this when Ray burst through the door, followed closely by Chris and Glen.
“What the bloody… Fletcher, Skelton, you’re supposed to be in Hyde!” Gene leapt to his feet, anger flooding his eyes as he saw the two of them standing behind Ray.
“New information. And they found one of the bugs,” Glen said, wincing as he added the last bit, and watching the storm rise in Gene’s face.
“They what? This bloody soon? I thought you hid them out of sight! Out of sight for a blind old bat, maybe,” Gene growled it and moved towards Glen, who straightened his back and stood toe to toe with Gene, despite the fact that Gene was several inches taller, and broader, than he was.
“Scarborough was searching all over for a missing file - the one I took,” Glen said, “He was sure to find it, doin’ that. But we heard sommat else - it’s not Williams,” Glen said, and Gene’s face suddenly twisted into an expression of disbelief.
“What the soddin’ hell are you playin’ at? Course it’s Williams!” Gene bellowed, and Glen continued to stand his ground.
“That were my thinkin,’ too, Sir, but we heard Scarborough talkin,’ and it turns out, it’s not Williams. It’s Morgan,” Glen said, and Gene suddenly felt his own anger bubbling over. He turned around and grabbed the chair that he had been sitting in, then thrust it to the ground, where it landed with a loud clatter.
“Gene! Beating up the furniture isn’t helping,” Sam said, trying to keep his voice as stern as possible, and Gene turned to look at him, and then stared back at Glen.
“You’re sure? You bloody sure?” Gene asked, and Glen nodded.
“As me own name. Morgan’s sure that Tyler is Williams, and he’s planted the killer here. The idea is to fit up Williams as bait for the killer, then double-cross the killer an’ all, make the collar, come out lookin’ like the hero,” Glen said, looking Gene in the eye.
“And make me look a ruddy fool, that let his DI die,” Gene said softly, and he felt his fists clenching hard at his sides, wishing once again that there were someone, or at least something, that he could hit.
Chris nodded at this, “But there’s more, Gov,” he said, looking to Glen, who nodded as well.
“I think, no, I’m dead certain, Morgan’s meeting with the killer tomorrow. Here in Manchester. We put a tail on ‘im, he’ll lead us straight to ’im,” Glen allowed himself a small, satisfied grin as he delivered this news, and Gene suddenly felt his stomach start to do flip-flops inside of him, twisting in on itself excitedly.
“You’re sure? You’re bloody sure?” He said again, and both Chris and Glen nodded at this.
“We watch ‘im close enough, ‘e’ll lead us straight in, an’ all,” Glen said, and Gene suddenly felt his mouth curling into a wicked smile.
“Fletcher, I could kiss your soddin’ mouth,” Gene said, and he clapped his hands together. “You’re the one. You tail ‘im, same as you tailed Harry Woolf with Tyler.” Glen’s eyes widened as he heard this.
“You’re sure, Sir?” Glen asked, and Gene nodded.
“You and Ray. You’re best suited for this - whatever you learned from Tyler, and you’ve got Raymondo here to back you up, if it comes to blows. What do you say, Ray?”
“Doddle, Gov. We’ll be on ‘im like flies on shite,” Ray said, punching his open left hand with his right fist. “Nice and quiet like, and he’ll lead us in. Then we go in and drag the bastards out.”
“Then you call me, and we all drag the bastards out,” Gene said, and Ray and Glen nodded at him.
“You… You can’t just all rush in there,” Sam suddenly spoke up, trying to keep track of what the others were saying. “It’s too risky. They’ll need armed back up, and… You’re sure it isn’t Williams?” Sam’s head was throbbing madly again, from the motion of sitting up further, and from trying to digest all of the new news that had been given in front of him. Something still wasn’t making sense…
“Oh, piss off, Tyler, this is the best chance we’ve got, and there’s no time to be callin’ in pansies to back ‘em. Lads can take care of themselves,” Gene said, smiling at Glen and Ray, and they both nodded in return.
“We’ll stay in radio contact, make sure you know, anything suspicious comes along,” Glen said, nodding at Sam.
Sam leaned back and closed his eyes, wincing as his head continued to pound madly. “You… You can’t be serious…”
“Best chance, DI Tyler. You know it, it’s what you’d do,” Glen said, and Sam suddenly looked at him, and nodded slightly.
“It is…” Sam suddenly realized that while it wasn’t what he would have done three months ago, it was definitely what he would do now. “It is.” He said it again, more firmly this time, and Gene turned around and grinned at him.
“Settled, then. I take Tyler to my place tonight, and Ray and Glen, you get down to Hyde and start tailing the bastard,” Gene said, and Chris suddenly looked at Gene.
“My place,” he said, quietly, and Sam and Gene both stared at him.
“You what?” Gene asked, and then he looked at Chris, much more intently than he had before. “Your place?”
“Morgan and Williams both know your address, Gov. You can take the boss to my place, stay over there an’ all. It’ll be most safe, like,” Chris said, and Gene started to consider this, and then curled his lip up.
“What makes you think I’d take him down to some pisshole little flat that you can afford on your wages?” Gene asked, and Ray shook his head.
“Chris’ got ‘is own house, Gov. Family house. Room all ready, too,” Ray said, and Gene gave Chris an appraising stare.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve already set up a bloody guest room?” Gene said, and Chris shook his head.
“Me mum’s old room. I stay in my old room, hers is the same as when she died. Made up nice. Couldn’t never bring meself to give away all her things,” Chris said, quietly, and Gene lifted an eyebrow at this.
“Bloody hell… Some old tart’s boudoir, just the place for Tyler, then,” Gene said, turning around to watch Sam’s reaction, and letting his grin fall as he noticed that Sam still had his eyes closed, tightly, a grimace of pain on his face. “Tyler? Sam?”
Sam shook his head, trying to clear it again. “I’m all right, Gov. Chris’ place, then,” Sam said, pain leaking into his voice as he said it. He opened his eyes and noticed that Ray, Chris, and Glen were all staring at the floor, and that Gene was still fixing him with a concerned gaze. “I said I’m fine. Stop it,” Sam tried to sound hard, and not simply angry, but he practically spat the words out at them, and immediately felt sorry for having done so. “I mean it, I’m all right,” he said, and Ray and Glen looked up at him and smiled slightly, although Chris’ gaze remained on the floor.
“Skelton’s place, then, it’s settled. Ray, you and Fletcher get down to Hyde, pronto, and start watching for any sign of that bastard. One of you awake at all times, and you follow him, wherever he goes. And don’t you dare let your sorry arses be seen! Remember, this bastard tails other coppers for a living - he’ll be wise to the ways, so you’d best be careful. And I ruddy well mean careful, or you’ll have nothing but toilets to clean for the rest of you bloody careers,” Gene pointed at the door, and Ray and Glen left then, neither saying another word.
“I still think back up would be a good idea,” Sam said, quietly, and then the door opened, again, and Gene looked up, half expecting to see Glen and Ray again. Chris looked over his shoulder and saw Annie come in, holding a large, weather-beaten suitcase in one hand.
“I found his suitcase, Gov, and a lot of his clothes, but there really weren’t that many personal items in the flat,” Annie said as she held up the suitcase, “Shaving kit, toothbrush, all that sort of thing, but he doesn’t really seem to have any books or photos, so I just took clothes and bathroom supplies.” Gene nodded, and then looked down at Sam, and laid hand on his shoulder.
“Almost ready, then?” Gene looked up at Chris, “Place had better be good, Skelton,” he added, and Chris snapped to attention and looked up at Gene, nodding again.
“We can put him in me mum’s old room, like Ray said, and then my room’s a bit of a state, at the moment, and the spare room’s empty - maybe we can get some camp beds or sommat for you or Annie or anyone else wants to help out, if they don’t want the sofa. Sofa’s nice, anyway - I sleep on it meself, some nights.”
Gene nodded at this, “Got some old camp beds in my attic, from when I tried to go camping with the missus, ‘bout back in ’65.”
“You go camping, Gov?” Annie asked skeptically, and Gene glared at her.
“Not sure I like your tone, Cartwright. And I didn’t say I go camping all the soddin’ time, I said I tried it one once, and it didn’t suit. Leave it at that,” he shook his head, and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Gene trying to camp. Annie was grinning at the thought as well, and she set the suitcase down on the floor and opened it up, pulling out a pair of pants, a pair of socks, a vest, shirt, and pair of trousers, as well as the large, sheep-skin lined coat that she’d found in Sam’s closet, and that Gene recognized from the time that they’d locked Charlie Edwards in the meat locker that spring. Chris looked at the coat, and then realized that Sam’s leather jacket was still hanging at the station.
“You feel up to getting dressed, Sam?” Annie asked, and Sam nodded, moving to pull the covers off of himself, and to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, breathing heavily as he did so. He shook his head again, trying to clear it, but the motion only made him dizzy and sent a wave of nausea through him, so that he had to pause and take several deep breaths before holding out his hand.
“Hand them over, then,” he said, and Annie nodded. Sam felt further frustration and embarrassment rise up in him at the concerned look on her face, and the frightened one on Chris,’ and he grimaced angrily at the thought of their concern. “I can dress myself,” he added, and Annie and Gene both gave him an appraising look for a moment.
“Not leaving you alone, Sam,” Gene said, quietly, and Sam gave him a pleading look, and then turned the same expression to Annie, who nodded slightly as she laid the clothes on the end of his bed, and then closed the suitcase again.
“Come on, Chris, let’s go find a nurse to help us get him out of here,” Annie said, and Chris nodded and followed her out of the room. After they had left, Sam looked at Gene, who picked up the chair that he’d thrown earlier and sat down in it, facing away from Sam.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Gene said softly, and Sam nodded, and then started to try and pull on the y-fronts that Annie had given him, finding that it took an extraordinary amount of effort to pull them on, and that the motion of bending over to do so was sending shocks of pain from his freshly stitched stomach and ribs. Gene turned around slightly as he heard Sam panting, and saw him sitting still, his arm wrapped around his abdomen. “Sam?”
“Gov… Gene… Can you…” Sam felt his face color again as he realized that he’d need help, and Gene slowly turned and reached for Sam’s socks, silently sliding them onto each of his feet, and then started to help Sam with his trousers. Sam couldn’t help but yelp slightly in pain as Gene repositioned him to pull the trousers over his waist, and Gene stopped and gave him a worried look.
“Am I hurtin’ you?” Gene asked, and Sam shook his head as he moved his hands around to do up the fly and button, and then noticed how loose the trousers had become.
“I can’t have lost this much weight in three weeks,” Sam said, quietly, and Gene paused as he picked up the vest.
“Doc says you’re down two stone from the weight in your station personnel files; said it was normal to lose a bit when you’re healing so much,” Gene said softly, and then added, “Got to get you back on your feed, get some meat back on your damned bones. And that’s an order, not a soddin’ suggestion.” The hard, commanding tone of his voice was much more familiar than the tone he’d previously been using, and Sam found himself grateful to hear it.
“We have to disconnect the IV line,” Sam said, trying to pull off his hospital gown, and finding that it was trapped by the line that ran into his arm. He held up his hand and inspected the connections, but couldn’t figure out where the line from the IV bottle connected with the line in his hand. Gene turned and saw him staring at it, and then moved to help, holding the end of the line tightly against Sam’s hand, so that Sam winced when he felt the needle moving inside of his vein, and then pulling the plastic tubing roughly away. There was a small click, and the tube disconnected from its joint inside of the taping on Sam’s hand, leaving the end of the IV connection in place.
“We’ll have Denslow or one of his birds take that out, shall we?” Gene said, and Sam nodded, and then tried to raise his arms to pull on the vest, and found that he couldn’t move them higher than his shoulders without causing more tremors of pain to ripple through his ribcage. Gene winced himself as he saw this, and then he slowly pulled the vest over Sam’s head and carefully pushed his arms through it, and then picked up the shirt, and slid it onto one of Sam’s arms, and then the other. By the time they’d gotten it buttoned, it looked as if Sam were swimming in it, and Sam was breathing heavily again. “You all right? Just that, tired you out, did it?” Gene said, and Sam noticed how softly upset his voice sounded, and shook his head.
“I’m fine,” Sam said, and Gene nodded.
“Doc said you’re supposed to take it easy, all right? No running about or anything,” Gene said, and then added, with a small grin, “Or I rip out your guts and use ‘em to tie you to the bedposts, understand?” Sam shook his head at this, a grin forming on his face, and then he turned around again and leaned against the back of the bed, pulling his legs halfway back onto it. Gene stared at this for a moment, and then gripped Sam’s legs and pulled them the rest of the way onto the bed. “Cartwright didn’t pull out any shoes,” Gene said, and then went to rummage in Sam’s suitcase while Sam closed his eyes and leaned further back.
Gene found the familiar pair of Cuban-heeled shoes in the suitcase, and then slid them onto Sam’s feet. He turned around quickly, more on edge and on guard than even he would have thought, when he heard the door opening behind him again. Denslow entered, followed by a nurse, who was pushing an empty wheel chair. Sam opened his eyes and nodded at Denslow. “Doctor,” Sam said, by way of greeting, and Denslow nodded at Sam.
“I suppose DCI Hunt has filled you in on our arrangement?” Denslow brandished a syringe, “This is the first of the antibiotic injections, and I’ve already given the prescription for the oral antibiotics, as well as for some painkillers, to Miss Cartwright. She and Mister….” Denslow drew a blank on Chris’ name.
“Skelton. DC Skelton,” Sam said, and Denslow nodded again.
“They’re outside of the door,” Denslow said, and then he moved to inject Sam via the IV port, and then motioned for the nurse to follow him. She was holding a small tray that she’d taken from the seat of the wheel chair, and she set it down on the bedside chair, and pulled off a pad and a bottle of what looked like iodine, and then dampened the pad. Denslow slowly peeled the tape away from Sam’s hand, and then pulled out the IV needle, taking the iodine soaked pad and rubbing it over the area on Sam’s hand, and then taking a bandage from the nurse. He slowly wrapped the back of Sam’s hand in it, and then stood and nodded. “There we are. Ready to go,” he said, and Sam noted that he seemed almost as nervous about the entire operation as Gene did, although he showed it in a far different manner. “I’ll be around with another shot of antibiotics, and to check on you, tomorrow morning,” he said, and then he turned to Gene and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “My numbers. Office, hospital reception, and my home number. Call me if anything, and I mean anything, happens.”
Gene nodded as he took the paper and slid it into his pocket, and then he stretched out a hand, which Denslow shook. Denslow then gestured towards the wheelchair, “All right; let’s get you onto that, Sam.”
Sam nodded, and then sat up again and swung his legs back over the side of the bed, and pushed himself off, more quickly than either Gene or Denslow had expected him to. His legs wobbled threateningly as he stood there, and Gene and Denslow both rushed over and grabbed him by either shoulder. “Easy, easy,” Denslow said, and Sam nodded, and then slowly started to take the few steps towards the wheelchair. “Go slowly. That’s good, you’re doing really well, Mr. Tyler,” Denslow’s voice was soft and reassuring, and Sam nodded at him again, and soon found that he’d taken the five steps that he’d need to take, and then sat down, heavily, in the chair.
“Good lad,” Gene added, and then he reached for Sam’s coat. “Come on, let’s get this on you,” he added, and then he pulled Sam’s coat onto him, wrapping it around his body and making sure that it wasn’t trapped behind the back of the chair.
“You should bring the car you’re going to use around now,” Denslow said, and Gene nodded.
“Right out front, then?” Gene asked, and Denslow nodded back at him.
“I’ll meet you there, along with Miss Cartwright and Mr. Skelton,” Denslow said, and then watched as Annie popped her head into the door that the nurse had just exited.
Gene looked up at Annie, “Get Skelton to grab his kit,” Gene said, gesturing towards the suitcase, “I’m pulling the car around, meet you out front.” Gene took one last, long look at Sam, and then left the room, pulling his keys from his trouser pocket as he did so. Annie nodded at him, and then Chris walked in, and Annie picked up the suitcase and handed it to him.
Denslow moved around to the back of the wheelchair, taking the handles that protruded from the portion behind Sam’s shoulders, and then nodded at both Annie and Chris. The four of them left the room, then, and Sam couldn’t help but feel like a man released from prison, and he allowed himself a small grin. “I’ve left strict orders with Mr. Hunt,” Denslow said, “Strict bed rest. You can take a short walk across a room, maybe down a hall, perhaps a few times a day, but that’s it. The rest of the time, you should stay lying down. Try to lie at an angle, raised up, and make sure that you get plenty of sleep, and plenty of fluids. I’ve given Miss Cartwright a prescription for some oral antibiotics, and some painkillers, but until you can keep solid food down, you’re going to need injections. I’ll be calling round for that, and to check on you. And you tell Mr. Hunt if you feel anything different, any change in pain, especially sudden, sharp pain, any different symptoms at all, and you have him call me immediately, day or night. Understood?” Sam nodded, trying to sort out Denslow’s words in his jumbled mind, and then shook his head, still trying to clear the dizzy fog that was surrounding him.
The lift doors parted on the first floor of the hospital, and Annie, Chris, Denslow and Sam made their way towards the front door. A cold gust of autumn wind made its way through the doors, and Sam shivered as he felt it, half as much from nerves as from the cold. Denslow stopped the chair, and then reached down and pushed at something, and Sam knew that he must be locking the wheels. He looked out towards the glass doors, and saw the Cortina pull up, and Gene climb out of the driver’s side. Gene stopped and walked around to the other side of the car, and then opened up the passenger side door, before he made his way towards the hospital doors. Annie reached forward and grabbed Sam’s shoulders, helping him up, and Sam tried not to lean into her too much as they made their way towards the door.
“I’ll call with our location, tonight,” Gene said, and Denslow nodded. “And all your orders, to a ruddy T, I swear,” Gene added, before moving to follow Sam and Annie out of the door.
The walk from the chair to the doors was about twelve small paces, and by the time that they’d reached the doors, Sam was gasping as if he’d just run a mile, and Annie could feel him shaking in her arms. “Just a few more steps, Sam,” she said, softly, and he nodded, trying to fight the wobbling feeling in his knees and the dizziness that still clung to him, and knowing that it was a losing battle.
“Get that in the boot,” Gene said, shoving Chris forward, and Chris moved to put the suitcase into the boot of the car, and then turned and stared as Annie and Sam finally made their way to the car. Annie slowly eased Sam down into the front passenger seat, and Gene watched them like a hawk, wanting to reach out to Sam at every second, and knowing that it would only cause Sam more embarrassment if he did so. He looked away as Annie helped Sam to straighten his legs under the dashboard, and then she shut the car, and nodded at Gene before climbing into the backseat, sitting behind Sam. Chris climbed into the space behind the driver’s seat, and then Gene made his way towards the front of the car, and climbed in himself.
“All right, all settled in. Oh, leave that, Gladys,” Gene said, and Sam felt another grin tug at the edges of his mouth as he tried to pull the seat belt across his chest and lap, and found that the straps were too tight across his chest and stomach. He let the belt flop back into its place, and then leaned back in the seat, still panting slightly.
“Gov. Slowly.” Sam said, and Gene gave him an angry look.
“I’m a perfect driver, you know that, Tyler,” Gene said, and Sam shook his head.
“I mean it. Drive like I would,” Sam said, and Gene sneered.
“You drive like my Auntie Mabel,” Gene said.
“Then drive like your Auntie Mabel. I’m serious. Go slowly. I’m not getting this far just to have you murder me yourself for chucking up inside of your car,” Sam said, and Gene cast him a slightly worried look before he slowly pulled away from the hospital. The Cortina slowly pulled away, and Chris gave Gene his address as they made their way onto the city streets. Sam allowed himself another smile when he realized that Gene really was going slowly, and that Gene would, apparently, always knock over dust bins, even when taking corners at only ten miles an hour.
“Sam?” Sam opened his eyes when he heard Gene speaking to him, and then realized that the car was parked, at the curb outside of a block of houses, and that he’d fallen asleep on the drive over. He felt Gene’s arm around his shoulder, slowly drawing him up and out of the car, and then he stood, Gene’s arm still wrapped tightly around his shoulder as he reached back and shut the door. “Come on, Sam, come on,” Gene said, softly, and Sam blinked a few times and then slowly started to walk towards the door of the nearest house, which Chris was unlocking. Gene and he slowly made their way towards the door, Sam shivering slightly in the autumn chill, and panting with the exertion of walking just the few steps to the door.
Eventually, Gene and Sam entered the house, and they saw Chris turning, holding Sam’s suitcase, and heading up the flight of stairs to their left. Sam looked up at the stairs, still gasping, and shook his head. “This is going to take a bit, isn’t it?” He said breathlessly, resting the arm furthest from Gene against the edge of the banister.
“Here, come on,” Gene said, and Sam realized that he was leaning as if to pick Sam up.
“No. You’ll strain your back,” Sam said, and Gene shook his head. Annie started to move up the stairs, as well, looking back at the both of them, a worried look on her face.
“Come on, here, Sam,” Gene said, and Sam felt Gene’s arm tighten around his shoulders, and his other arm sweep low under his buttocks, until Gene was holding him in his arms, one arm beneath Sam’s knees, and the other behind his shoulders. Sam whimpered slightly at the strain that it put on his ribs, and he saw Annie wince at the sound. “All right?” Gene asked, and Sam nodded.
“You’re sure you won’t hurt your back?” Sam asked, and then whimpered again as he was jostled in Gene’s arms.
“Rubbish. Strong as an ox, I am, and you’re light as a feather. Come on,” Gene said, and then he started up the stairs, still cradling Sam against him. Sam closed his eyes and let his head loll forward, resting it against Gene’s, and Gene tightened his grip on Sam slightly as they continued their climb. By the time they’d reached the top of the stairs, Gene was panting slightly, and he looked towards the door that Chris had opened, and made for it, taking long strides, Sam still clutched tightly to his chest. He had to turn sideways to move through the door, and when he did, he noted that the inside of the room was spotless, the bed sitting as if it had been made years ago, and then forgotten. Gene realized that it probably had been, and he gave Chris a questioning look.
“Cartwright, go downstairs and get the lad some food. Skelton, show her where the kitchen is,” Gene said, and Annie and Chris both paused at the door, still staring at Sam as Gene continued to hold him, standing next to the bed. “Go on, sling your hook, the both of you. I want him to eat something in less than an hour,” Gene said, and Annie nodded, and then made for the stairs, a slightly dazed looking Chris following her. As they left, the door slowly swung shut behind them, and Gene watched this before he gently laid Sam down on the bed, and then moved to pull the coat and shoes off of him, and then pull the covers up and over him.
Gene noticed that Chris had brought in several extra pillows, likely every one that he owned, and piled them onto one side of the bed, and he slowly started to pile them behind Sam, who appeared to be asleep. When he was satisfied that he’d gotten Sam into as comfortable a position as he could manage, he glanced at the door again, and noted that he couldn’t hear the others moving about. He stared back at Sam, and felt his eyes start to burn at the sight of his DI, laying broken and thin, practically swallowed by the thick coverlet on the bed. He leaned down, almost instinctually, and let his lips slowly touch Sam’s, kissing him gently and stroking the side of his face as he did so. Sam’s eyes fluttered open as he felt Gene’s mouth grazing his, and he stared, not quite shocked, as Gene pulled away.
“Gene?” Sam asked, and Gene looked away, and then looked back down at Sam.
“I’m worried about you, is all,” Gene said, his own cheeks coloring slightly. “Thought you wouldn’t notice.”
Sam stared questioningly at Gene, remembering the feeling of his arms around him, and then swallowed, hard. “I don’t mind,” he said, softly, and noticed that Gene’s face had taken on an expression of slightly shocked gratitude. “It was nice,” Sam added, a soft whisper that Gene could barely hear, and Gene leaned down and kissed him again. This time, Sam tried to lean into the kiss, parting his lips slightly and kissing Gene back, and then the two of them parted, and Gene gave Sam an odd, unreadable look in response.
“You’ll be all right, Sam. Nothing’ll happen to you, not now,” Gene said, and he leaned in and kissed Sam softly, one more time. When they finally broke apart, Gene sat down on the bed next to Sam, feeling Sam’s thighs, under the covers, next to his own legs, and he reached forward and ran the back of his hand against the side of Sam’s face. “I’ll keep you safe,” he said, softly, and Sam was frightened to see a tear rolling down the side of Gene’s face. It was incredibly unlike him, and the idea of Gene Hunt crying was far more shocking than the idea of Gene kissing him; Sam had to close his eyes for a moment, and was glad that only the one tear had fallen. Part of him wanted to sleep, and another part of him wanted to be left alone, to think, and yet another part of him wished that Gene would kiss him again, would stay with him forever. He swallowed hard against his own tears, and the horrible, sinking feeling of being trapped and helpless, more vulnerable than he’d ever been in his life, reached up and overcame him, filling him with an odd, deep dread.
“Stay with me. Please. Just for a bit,” Sam said, trying to hold back his own tears, and to keep the fear and shame that his own vulnerability were dredging up at bay.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sam,” Gene said, and Sam felt Gene’s hand wrap around his once again, and then closed his eyes, falling quickly back into a deep, blessedly dream-free, sleep, concentrating on the feeling of Gene’s hand in his.
All comments, criticism, flames, compliments, and mutations of the bunny (you have no idea what your random thoughts might do to the plot) are highly encouraged and greatly appreciated!
“Sam? How much of that did you hear?” Annie asked, and Sam saw the strange set to her eyes and jaw again, and wondered exactly what she had told him while he had been arguing with his double.
“How much of what…” Sam tried to make his face hard as he looked up at Annie, but found that he couldn’t, not when she also looked as if she were on the verge of tears. He tried to lean forward, and felt an odd, muted pain ripple through the flesh over his stomach, just as he felt the dull, throbbing ache of his ribs and back.
“Lie still. Lie still, Sam,” Sam felt Annie’s hand on his shoulder, and he looked over, and saw the gun in her lap.
“Why do you have…” Sam winced, and then laid back against the bed. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he had to fight against the urge to leap forward on the bed when he realized what had happened. “He was here…” Sam felt himself start to shake again, and he tried to fight against the panic that was rising up and threatening to overtake him. “He was here…” Sam felt his breath catch, and realized that he was hyperventilating, or at least coming as close to hyperventilating as his lungs would allow. His chest felt as if it were on fire, his lungs straining within him, and pain surged through his stomach and ribs again as he shook violently on the bed.
“Calm down! Sam! Come on…” Annie stood up and placed the gun on the chair, and then leaned over Sam, taking his face between her hands and leaning in close, her face directly in front of Sam’s. “Sam, you’re panicking, calm down. He’s not here now. I’m here, and so’s the Gov, and we’re going to take you out of here. We’re taking you someplace safe. Sam, please, please, you’ll hurt yourself,” Annie’s voice was thick with suppressed tears and with her own panic as she pleaded with Sam, and he fought against the rush of fear that continued to press down on him, shaking him from within. He concentrated hard on the sound of her voice, and on slowly and deepening his breath. Annie continued to plead, “Sam, please, Sam, it’s all right. Shh… It’s all right, calm down. Calm down. You’re safe, you’re safe. Please, Sam, please, it’s all right. It’s me, it’s Annie.”
Sam eventually got the attack under control, and then lay, gasping, against the bed, Annie’s hands still on the sides of his face, their grip loosening as they moved up and started to stroke his head gently, moving from either side of his forehead down to his jaw. Sam concentrated on the slow, rhythmic motion, and tried to match his breathing with it. They seemed to stay like that for hours, locked together, Annie’s face just a few inches away from his, her eyes bright with fear and concern as they locked onto his. Annie leaned in slightly then, and very gently grazed his lips with hers. Sam barely had a moment to concentrate on the tiny sliver of her taste that he’d received when she pulled back, her eyes shining with barely restrained tears.
“Annie. I’m all right,” Sam eventually said, and Annie pulled back slightly, left side pulling away, and her right hand sliding down Sam’s body to meet with his hand, which she grasped again as she sat down.
“It’s all right, Sam.”
“I know. I know. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry,” Sam said, feeling an embarrassed flush creep up into his cheeks again. “I’m all right now.”
“Good,” Annie said, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “How do you feel?”
Sam winced, not wanting to take full stock of all of his aches and pains, “My stomach hurts. Not inside, outside,” Sam tried to explain, and Annie bit her lower lip. “Annie?”
“He… He was here, and he cut you, Sam. The doctor stitched it up, though,” Annie said, and Sam moved his own right hand slowly towards his abdomen, feeling the bandage that covered him there. “It’s not too deep, it’ll be all right,” Annie said, and Sam pulled his hand away, not wanting to know what was engraved into his skin, but knowing full well what was there.
“It’s the mark.” Sam said, and Annie’s eyes widened.
“It is,” She said, softly, and Sam shut his eyes for a moment, unable to look at the pain that was filling her face.
“At least I won’t forget it, now,” Sam said, not sure of what else to say, and he heard Annie give a short, strangled laugh.
“Yeah.” Annie’s hand tightened on his, and he let his own fingers curve around hers. “Are you all right? Really?”
“I’m fine, Annie. I’m fine.” Sam winced again, “Headache. And my chest hurts, but that’s normal for now, isn’t it? I’m all right. I promise,” he said, and Annie shook her head.
“I’m supposed to be the one promising you that, you know,” she said, and Sam grinned at her.
“You already did. And...” Sam’s eyes widened, and he tried to sit up again, “You’re taking me… What?” He tried to think of what Annie had said earlier, but her words were lost; he hadn’t been able to clearly hear them, over the sounds of his own panic attack.
“The Gov’s taking you out of here. He’s taking you home,” Annie said, and Sam’s mind reeled at the thought of it.
“Home? How… Where…” Sam could think of thousands of questions, but wasn’t sure which one he should ask. His throat tightened on him, then, and he felt his chest start to lurch slightly as the coughs came, once again. He tried to straighten himself up slightly, and then he felt Annie’s hand at the back of his neck, trying to steady him as she held a pile of tissues under his face with her other hand.
When the fit finally passed, Annie threw the soiled tissues away, and Sam grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”
“We’ve been over this before,” Annie’s voice was stern again, and Sam was glad that he couldn’t hear any tears in it, this time. He looked over at her, and she smiled at him. He gave her slight nod, still gasping slightly.
“Yeah. Yeah, we have,” he said, and she chuckled slightly again. “Where… You’re taking me out of here?”
“The Gov says he wants to take you someplace that the killer can’t find you,” Annie said, and Sam tried to consider the possibilities, and drew a blank. Surely Gene wouldn’t take him back to his bedsit, or to Gene’s own house… Williams was sure to know their addresses… Sam tried to think of what Gene had said the night before, when he had described the files that had been taken from Hyde, and he drew a blank and made a mental note to ask to see the files as soon as possible. If the double was alive, and present in 1973, then there was a good chance that he also knew where Sam, and Gene, lived, especially if the double really was from Hyde, and if the Hyde officers had had a file on Gene…
“Sam?” Annie’s voice brought Sam out of his reverie, and he looked at her again.
“I’m all right. Thinking. Do you know where he’s planning on taking me?” Annie shook her head.
“He said…” Annie’s voice was cut off by the sound of the door being flung open, and Sam noticed that she was gripping the butt of the gun in her lap as the figure that had opened the door entered the room. He saw her relax as Gene entered, and then held out his hand to Annie.
“Gun.” He said, and Annie suddenly realized why Gene was holding out his hand. She handed it back to him, and he nodded at her. “And now get your pretty little arse back to his place,” Gene said, gesturing towards Sam. “Clothes, pajamas, any of them poncey science books he might have layin’ about, ‘n case he wants to read one of ‘em. And then get back here. You’ve got one hour,” Gene said, and Annie nodded, and then stood and headed for the door, before turning to look at Gene again.
“Gov, I haven’t got the keys,” she said, and Gene shrugged slightly.
“Kicked it in, last time we were there. If the landlord’s fixed it, kick it back in yourself. Put some weight behind yourself, and shove. Poxy shite for carpentry, it falls apart faster than a soddin’ USSR peace treaty.”
Annie stared at Gene for a moment, a disbelieving expression on her face, and then she sighed, and left. Sam let out his own sigh as Gene tucked his gun back into the holster hidden at the waist of his trousers, and then sat down in the chair next to Sam.
“Annie says you’re taking me out of here?” Sam phrased it like a question, still not sure that he believed it himself.
“I’m taking you home with me. The bastard knows that you’re here, and I’m not leaving you here like a sitting duck, not anymore.” Gene was staring at the floor as he said it, and Sam thought he heard his voice cracking slightly.
“Gov?” Sam asked, and Gene looked up at him, his eyes, thankfully, dry. Sam wasn’t sure that he could handle seeing Gene cry at the moment, or even at all: the thought seemed far too out of character for his rough, gruff DCI.
“I’m taking you home, and Cartwright and I’ll look after you. Denslow gave me some instructions, and said he’d make house calls. Ray’s coming in to help me move you, soon as Annie gets back with your things,” Gene reached over and laid a hand against Sam’s cheek, the gesture still seeming far too odd for him, but the touch incredibly comforting. Sam closed his eyes and turned his face slightly so that he was leaning into Gene’s touch, and then felt Gene’s hand slowly start to stroke the side of his face again. As before, it seemed incredibly unlike Gene, but Sam relished the feeling, either way. “I won’t let that sick twist anywhere near you again, I swear,” Gene said softly, and Sam opened his eyes and looked back at Gene.
“Your place?” Sam asked, suddenly filled with an odd, cold feeling. “Was your address in the files that Morgan had?”
Gene’s hand stopped moving for a minute, and then he withdrew it and ran it through his own hair, and slammed his other hand, curled into a fist, onto his knee. “Bastard! Williams will know my address…” Gene shook his head, and then looked back at Sam, stretching out his hand again and taking Sam’s into it. “I’ll find somewhere. Maybe Cartwright’s flat…” Gene was still musing on this when Ray burst through the door, followed closely by Chris and Glen.
“What the bloody… Fletcher, Skelton, you’re supposed to be in Hyde!” Gene leapt to his feet, anger flooding his eyes as he saw the two of them standing behind Ray.
“New information. And they found one of the bugs,” Glen said, wincing as he added the last bit, and watching the storm rise in Gene’s face.
“They what? This bloody soon? I thought you hid them out of sight! Out of sight for a blind old bat, maybe,” Gene growled it and moved towards Glen, who straightened his back and stood toe to toe with Gene, despite the fact that Gene was several inches taller, and broader, than he was.
“Scarborough was searching all over for a missing file - the one I took,” Glen said, “He was sure to find it, doin’ that. But we heard sommat else - it’s not Williams,” Glen said, and Gene’s face suddenly twisted into an expression of disbelief.
“What the soddin’ hell are you playin’ at? Course it’s Williams!” Gene bellowed, and Glen continued to stand his ground.
“That were my thinkin,’ too, Sir, but we heard Scarborough talkin,’ and it turns out, it’s not Williams. It’s Morgan,” Glen said, and Gene suddenly felt his own anger bubbling over. He turned around and grabbed the chair that he had been sitting in, then thrust it to the ground, where it landed with a loud clatter.
“Gene! Beating up the furniture isn’t helping,” Sam said, trying to keep his voice as stern as possible, and Gene turned to look at him, and then stared back at Glen.
“You’re sure? You bloody sure?” Gene asked, and Glen nodded.
“As me own name. Morgan’s sure that Tyler is Williams, and he’s planted the killer here. The idea is to fit up Williams as bait for the killer, then double-cross the killer an’ all, make the collar, come out lookin’ like the hero,” Glen said, looking Gene in the eye.
“And make me look a ruddy fool, that let his DI die,” Gene said softly, and he felt his fists clenching hard at his sides, wishing once again that there were someone, or at least something, that he could hit.
Chris nodded at this, “But there’s more, Gov,” he said, looking to Glen, who nodded as well.
“I think, no, I’m dead certain, Morgan’s meeting with the killer tomorrow. Here in Manchester. We put a tail on ‘im, he’ll lead us straight to ’im,” Glen allowed himself a small, satisfied grin as he delivered this news, and Gene suddenly felt his stomach start to do flip-flops inside of him, twisting in on itself excitedly.
“You’re sure? You’re bloody sure?” He said again, and both Chris and Glen nodded at this.
“We watch ‘im close enough, ‘e’ll lead us straight in, an’ all,” Glen said, and Gene suddenly felt his mouth curling into a wicked smile.
“Fletcher, I could kiss your soddin’ mouth,” Gene said, and he clapped his hands together. “You’re the one. You tail ‘im, same as you tailed Harry Woolf with Tyler.” Glen’s eyes widened as he heard this.
“You’re sure, Sir?” Glen asked, and Gene nodded.
“You and Ray. You’re best suited for this - whatever you learned from Tyler, and you’ve got Raymondo here to back you up, if it comes to blows. What do you say, Ray?”
“Doddle, Gov. We’ll be on ‘im like flies on shite,” Ray said, punching his open left hand with his right fist. “Nice and quiet like, and he’ll lead us in. Then we go in and drag the bastards out.”
“Then you call me, and we all drag the bastards out,” Gene said, and Ray and Glen nodded at him.
“You… You can’t just all rush in there,” Sam suddenly spoke up, trying to keep track of what the others were saying. “It’s too risky. They’ll need armed back up, and… You’re sure it isn’t Williams?” Sam’s head was throbbing madly again, from the motion of sitting up further, and from trying to digest all of the new news that had been given in front of him. Something still wasn’t making sense…
“Oh, piss off, Tyler, this is the best chance we’ve got, and there’s no time to be callin’ in pansies to back ‘em. Lads can take care of themselves,” Gene said, smiling at Glen and Ray, and they both nodded in return.
“We’ll stay in radio contact, make sure you know, anything suspicious comes along,” Glen said, nodding at Sam.
Sam leaned back and closed his eyes, wincing as his head continued to pound madly. “You… You can’t be serious…”
“Best chance, DI Tyler. You know it, it’s what you’d do,” Glen said, and Sam suddenly looked at him, and nodded slightly.
“It is…” Sam suddenly realized that while it wasn’t what he would have done three months ago, it was definitely what he would do now. “It is.” He said it again, more firmly this time, and Gene turned around and grinned at him.
“Settled, then. I take Tyler to my place tonight, and Ray and Glen, you get down to Hyde and start tailing the bastard,” Gene said, and Chris suddenly looked at Gene.
“My place,” he said, quietly, and Sam and Gene both stared at him.
“You what?” Gene asked, and then he looked at Chris, much more intently than he had before. “Your place?”
“Morgan and Williams both know your address, Gov. You can take the boss to my place, stay over there an’ all. It’ll be most safe, like,” Chris said, and Gene started to consider this, and then curled his lip up.
“What makes you think I’d take him down to some pisshole little flat that you can afford on your wages?” Gene asked, and Ray shook his head.
“Chris’ got ‘is own house, Gov. Family house. Room all ready, too,” Ray said, and Gene gave Chris an appraising stare.
“You mean to tell me that you’ve already set up a bloody guest room?” Gene said, and Chris shook his head.
“Me mum’s old room. I stay in my old room, hers is the same as when she died. Made up nice. Couldn’t never bring meself to give away all her things,” Chris said, quietly, and Gene lifted an eyebrow at this.
“Bloody hell… Some old tart’s boudoir, just the place for Tyler, then,” Gene said, turning around to watch Sam’s reaction, and letting his grin fall as he noticed that Sam still had his eyes closed, tightly, a grimace of pain on his face. “Tyler? Sam?”
Sam shook his head, trying to clear it again. “I’m all right, Gov. Chris’ place, then,” Sam said, pain leaking into his voice as he said it. He opened his eyes and noticed that Ray, Chris, and Glen were all staring at the floor, and that Gene was still fixing him with a concerned gaze. “I said I’m fine. Stop it,” Sam tried to sound hard, and not simply angry, but he practically spat the words out at them, and immediately felt sorry for having done so. “I mean it, I’m all right,” he said, and Ray and Glen looked up at him and smiled slightly, although Chris’ gaze remained on the floor.
“Skelton’s place, then, it’s settled. Ray, you and Fletcher get down to Hyde, pronto, and start watching for any sign of that bastard. One of you awake at all times, and you follow him, wherever he goes. And don’t you dare let your sorry arses be seen! Remember, this bastard tails other coppers for a living - he’ll be wise to the ways, so you’d best be careful. And I ruddy well mean careful, or you’ll have nothing but toilets to clean for the rest of you bloody careers,” Gene pointed at the door, and Ray and Glen left then, neither saying another word.
“I still think back up would be a good idea,” Sam said, quietly, and then the door opened, again, and Gene looked up, half expecting to see Glen and Ray again. Chris looked over his shoulder and saw Annie come in, holding a large, weather-beaten suitcase in one hand.
“I found his suitcase, Gov, and a lot of his clothes, but there really weren’t that many personal items in the flat,” Annie said as she held up the suitcase, “Shaving kit, toothbrush, all that sort of thing, but he doesn’t really seem to have any books or photos, so I just took clothes and bathroom supplies.” Gene nodded, and then looked down at Sam, and laid hand on his shoulder.
“Almost ready, then?” Gene looked up at Chris, “Place had better be good, Skelton,” he added, and Chris snapped to attention and looked up at Gene, nodding again.
“We can put him in me mum’s old room, like Ray said, and then my room’s a bit of a state, at the moment, and the spare room’s empty - maybe we can get some camp beds or sommat for you or Annie or anyone else wants to help out, if they don’t want the sofa. Sofa’s nice, anyway - I sleep on it meself, some nights.”
Gene nodded at this, “Got some old camp beds in my attic, from when I tried to go camping with the missus, ‘bout back in ’65.”
“You go camping, Gov?” Annie asked skeptically, and Gene glared at her.
“Not sure I like your tone, Cartwright. And I didn’t say I go camping all the soddin’ time, I said I tried it one once, and it didn’t suit. Leave it at that,” he shook his head, and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Gene trying to camp. Annie was grinning at the thought as well, and she set the suitcase down on the floor and opened it up, pulling out a pair of pants, a pair of socks, a vest, shirt, and pair of trousers, as well as the large, sheep-skin lined coat that she’d found in Sam’s closet, and that Gene recognized from the time that they’d locked Charlie Edwards in the meat locker that spring. Chris looked at the coat, and then realized that Sam’s leather jacket was still hanging at the station.
“You feel up to getting dressed, Sam?” Annie asked, and Sam nodded, moving to pull the covers off of himself, and to swing his legs over the edge of the bed, breathing heavily as he did so. He shook his head again, trying to clear it, but the motion only made him dizzy and sent a wave of nausea through him, so that he had to pause and take several deep breaths before holding out his hand.
“Hand them over, then,” he said, and Annie nodded. Sam felt further frustration and embarrassment rise up in him at the concerned look on her face, and the frightened one on Chris,’ and he grimaced angrily at the thought of their concern. “I can dress myself,” he added, and Annie and Gene both gave him an appraising look for a moment.
“Not leaving you alone, Sam,” Gene said, quietly, and Sam gave him a pleading look, and then turned the same expression to Annie, who nodded slightly as she laid the clothes on the end of his bed, and then closed the suitcase again.
“Come on, Chris, let’s go find a nurse to help us get him out of here,” Annie said, and Chris nodded and followed her out of the room. After they had left, Sam looked at Gene, who picked up the chair that he’d thrown earlier and sat down in it, facing away from Sam.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Gene said softly, and Sam nodded, and then started to try and pull on the y-fronts that Annie had given him, finding that it took an extraordinary amount of effort to pull them on, and that the motion of bending over to do so was sending shocks of pain from his freshly stitched stomach and ribs. Gene turned around slightly as he heard Sam panting, and saw him sitting still, his arm wrapped around his abdomen. “Sam?”
“Gov… Gene… Can you…” Sam felt his face color again as he realized that he’d need help, and Gene slowly turned and reached for Sam’s socks, silently sliding them onto each of his feet, and then started to help Sam with his trousers. Sam couldn’t help but yelp slightly in pain as Gene repositioned him to pull the trousers over his waist, and Gene stopped and gave him a worried look.
“Am I hurtin’ you?” Gene asked, and Sam shook his head as he moved his hands around to do up the fly and button, and then noticed how loose the trousers had become.
“I can’t have lost this much weight in three weeks,” Sam said, quietly, and Gene paused as he picked up the vest.
“Doc says you’re down two stone from the weight in your station personnel files; said it was normal to lose a bit when you’re healing so much,” Gene said softly, and then added, “Got to get you back on your feed, get some meat back on your damned bones. And that’s an order, not a soddin’ suggestion.” The hard, commanding tone of his voice was much more familiar than the tone he’d previously been using, and Sam found himself grateful to hear it.
“We have to disconnect the IV line,” Sam said, trying to pull off his hospital gown, and finding that it was trapped by the line that ran into his arm. He held up his hand and inspected the connections, but couldn’t figure out where the line from the IV bottle connected with the line in his hand. Gene turned and saw him staring at it, and then moved to help, holding the end of the line tightly against Sam’s hand, so that Sam winced when he felt the needle moving inside of his vein, and then pulling the plastic tubing roughly away. There was a small click, and the tube disconnected from its joint inside of the taping on Sam’s hand, leaving the end of the IV connection in place.
“We’ll have Denslow or one of his birds take that out, shall we?” Gene said, and Sam nodded, and then tried to raise his arms to pull on the vest, and found that he couldn’t move them higher than his shoulders without causing more tremors of pain to ripple through his ribcage. Gene winced himself as he saw this, and then he slowly pulled the vest over Sam’s head and carefully pushed his arms through it, and then picked up the shirt, and slid it onto one of Sam’s arms, and then the other. By the time they’d gotten it buttoned, it looked as if Sam were swimming in it, and Sam was breathing heavily again. “You all right? Just that, tired you out, did it?” Gene said, and Sam noticed how softly upset his voice sounded, and shook his head.
“I’m fine,” Sam said, and Gene nodded.
“Doc said you’re supposed to take it easy, all right? No running about or anything,” Gene said, and then added, with a small grin, “Or I rip out your guts and use ‘em to tie you to the bedposts, understand?” Sam shook his head at this, a grin forming on his face, and then he turned around again and leaned against the back of the bed, pulling his legs halfway back onto it. Gene stared at this for a moment, and then gripped Sam’s legs and pulled them the rest of the way onto the bed. “Cartwright didn’t pull out any shoes,” Gene said, and then went to rummage in Sam’s suitcase while Sam closed his eyes and leaned further back.
Gene found the familiar pair of Cuban-heeled shoes in the suitcase, and then slid them onto Sam’s feet. He turned around quickly, more on edge and on guard than even he would have thought, when he heard the door opening behind him again. Denslow entered, followed by a nurse, who was pushing an empty wheel chair. Sam opened his eyes and nodded at Denslow. “Doctor,” Sam said, by way of greeting, and Denslow nodded at Sam.
“I suppose DCI Hunt has filled you in on our arrangement?” Denslow brandished a syringe, “This is the first of the antibiotic injections, and I’ve already given the prescription for the oral antibiotics, as well as for some painkillers, to Miss Cartwright. She and Mister….” Denslow drew a blank on Chris’ name.
“Skelton. DC Skelton,” Sam said, and Denslow nodded again.
“They’re outside of the door,” Denslow said, and then he moved to inject Sam via the IV port, and then motioned for the nurse to follow him. She was holding a small tray that she’d taken from the seat of the wheel chair, and she set it down on the bedside chair, and pulled off a pad and a bottle of what looked like iodine, and then dampened the pad. Denslow slowly peeled the tape away from Sam’s hand, and then pulled out the IV needle, taking the iodine soaked pad and rubbing it over the area on Sam’s hand, and then taking a bandage from the nurse. He slowly wrapped the back of Sam’s hand in it, and then stood and nodded. “There we are. Ready to go,” he said, and Sam noted that he seemed almost as nervous about the entire operation as Gene did, although he showed it in a far different manner. “I’ll be around with another shot of antibiotics, and to check on you, tomorrow morning,” he said, and then he turned to Gene and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “My numbers. Office, hospital reception, and my home number. Call me if anything, and I mean anything, happens.”
Gene nodded as he took the paper and slid it into his pocket, and then he stretched out a hand, which Denslow shook. Denslow then gestured towards the wheelchair, “All right; let’s get you onto that, Sam.”
Sam nodded, and then sat up again and swung his legs back over the side of the bed, and pushed himself off, more quickly than either Gene or Denslow had expected him to. His legs wobbled threateningly as he stood there, and Gene and Denslow both rushed over and grabbed him by either shoulder. “Easy, easy,” Denslow said, and Sam nodded, and then slowly started to take the few steps towards the wheelchair. “Go slowly. That’s good, you’re doing really well, Mr. Tyler,” Denslow’s voice was soft and reassuring, and Sam nodded at him again, and soon found that he’d taken the five steps that he’d need to take, and then sat down, heavily, in the chair.
“Good lad,” Gene added, and then he reached for Sam’s coat. “Come on, let’s get this on you,” he added, and then he pulled Sam’s coat onto him, wrapping it around his body and making sure that it wasn’t trapped behind the back of the chair.
“You should bring the car you’re going to use around now,” Denslow said, and Gene nodded.
“Right out front, then?” Gene asked, and Denslow nodded back at him.
“I’ll meet you there, along with Miss Cartwright and Mr. Skelton,” Denslow said, and then watched as Annie popped her head into the door that the nurse had just exited.
Gene looked up at Annie, “Get Skelton to grab his kit,” Gene said, gesturing towards the suitcase, “I’m pulling the car around, meet you out front.” Gene took one last, long look at Sam, and then left the room, pulling his keys from his trouser pocket as he did so. Annie nodded at him, and then Chris walked in, and Annie picked up the suitcase and handed it to him.
Denslow moved around to the back of the wheelchair, taking the handles that protruded from the portion behind Sam’s shoulders, and then nodded at both Annie and Chris. The four of them left the room, then, and Sam couldn’t help but feel like a man released from prison, and he allowed himself a small grin. “I’ve left strict orders with Mr. Hunt,” Denslow said, “Strict bed rest. You can take a short walk across a room, maybe down a hall, perhaps a few times a day, but that’s it. The rest of the time, you should stay lying down. Try to lie at an angle, raised up, and make sure that you get plenty of sleep, and plenty of fluids. I’ve given Miss Cartwright a prescription for some oral antibiotics, and some painkillers, but until you can keep solid food down, you’re going to need injections. I’ll be calling round for that, and to check on you. And you tell Mr. Hunt if you feel anything different, any change in pain, especially sudden, sharp pain, any different symptoms at all, and you have him call me immediately, day or night. Understood?” Sam nodded, trying to sort out Denslow’s words in his jumbled mind, and then shook his head, still trying to clear the dizzy fog that was surrounding him.
The lift doors parted on the first floor of the hospital, and Annie, Chris, Denslow and Sam made their way towards the front door. A cold gust of autumn wind made its way through the doors, and Sam shivered as he felt it, half as much from nerves as from the cold. Denslow stopped the chair, and then reached down and pushed at something, and Sam knew that he must be locking the wheels. He looked out towards the glass doors, and saw the Cortina pull up, and Gene climb out of the driver’s side. Gene stopped and walked around to the other side of the car, and then opened up the passenger side door, before he made his way towards the hospital doors. Annie reached forward and grabbed Sam’s shoulders, helping him up, and Sam tried not to lean into her too much as they made their way towards the door.
“I’ll call with our location, tonight,” Gene said, and Denslow nodded. “And all your orders, to a ruddy T, I swear,” Gene added, before moving to follow Sam and Annie out of the door.
The walk from the chair to the doors was about twelve small paces, and by the time that they’d reached the doors, Sam was gasping as if he’d just run a mile, and Annie could feel him shaking in her arms. “Just a few more steps, Sam,” she said, softly, and he nodded, trying to fight the wobbling feeling in his knees and the dizziness that still clung to him, and knowing that it was a losing battle.
“Get that in the boot,” Gene said, shoving Chris forward, and Chris moved to put the suitcase into the boot of the car, and then turned and stared as Annie and Sam finally made their way to the car. Annie slowly eased Sam down into the front passenger seat, and Gene watched them like a hawk, wanting to reach out to Sam at every second, and knowing that it would only cause Sam more embarrassment if he did so. He looked away as Annie helped Sam to straighten his legs under the dashboard, and then she shut the car, and nodded at Gene before climbing into the backseat, sitting behind Sam. Chris climbed into the space behind the driver’s seat, and then Gene made his way towards the front of the car, and climbed in himself.
“All right, all settled in. Oh, leave that, Gladys,” Gene said, and Sam felt another grin tug at the edges of his mouth as he tried to pull the seat belt across his chest and lap, and found that the straps were too tight across his chest and stomach. He let the belt flop back into its place, and then leaned back in the seat, still panting slightly.
“Gov. Slowly.” Sam said, and Gene gave him an angry look.
“I’m a perfect driver, you know that, Tyler,” Gene said, and Sam shook his head.
“I mean it. Drive like I would,” Sam said, and Gene sneered.
“You drive like my Auntie Mabel,” Gene said.
“Then drive like your Auntie Mabel. I’m serious. Go slowly. I’m not getting this far just to have you murder me yourself for chucking up inside of your car,” Sam said, and Gene cast him a slightly worried look before he slowly pulled away from the hospital. The Cortina slowly pulled away, and Chris gave Gene his address as they made their way onto the city streets. Sam allowed himself another smile when he realized that Gene really was going slowly, and that Gene would, apparently, always knock over dust bins, even when taking corners at only ten miles an hour.
“Sam?” Sam opened his eyes when he heard Gene speaking to him, and then realized that the car was parked, at the curb outside of a block of houses, and that he’d fallen asleep on the drive over. He felt Gene’s arm around his shoulder, slowly drawing him up and out of the car, and then he stood, Gene’s arm still wrapped tightly around his shoulder as he reached back and shut the door. “Come on, Sam, come on,” Gene said, softly, and Sam blinked a few times and then slowly started to walk towards the door of the nearest house, which Chris was unlocking. Gene and he slowly made their way towards the door, Sam shivering slightly in the autumn chill, and panting with the exertion of walking just the few steps to the door.
Eventually, Gene and Sam entered the house, and they saw Chris turning, holding Sam’s suitcase, and heading up the flight of stairs to their left. Sam looked up at the stairs, still gasping, and shook his head. “This is going to take a bit, isn’t it?” He said breathlessly, resting the arm furthest from Gene against the edge of the banister.
“Here, come on,” Gene said, and Sam realized that he was leaning as if to pick Sam up.
“No. You’ll strain your back,” Sam said, and Gene shook his head. Annie started to move up the stairs, as well, looking back at the both of them, a worried look on her face.
“Come on, here, Sam,” Gene said, and Sam felt Gene’s arm tighten around his shoulders, and his other arm sweep low under his buttocks, until Gene was holding him in his arms, one arm beneath Sam’s knees, and the other behind his shoulders. Sam whimpered slightly at the strain that it put on his ribs, and he saw Annie wince at the sound. “All right?” Gene asked, and Sam nodded.
“You’re sure you won’t hurt your back?” Sam asked, and then whimpered again as he was jostled in Gene’s arms.
“Rubbish. Strong as an ox, I am, and you’re light as a feather. Come on,” Gene said, and then he started up the stairs, still cradling Sam against him. Sam closed his eyes and let his head loll forward, resting it against Gene’s, and Gene tightened his grip on Sam slightly as they continued their climb. By the time they’d reached the top of the stairs, Gene was panting slightly, and he looked towards the door that Chris had opened, and made for it, taking long strides, Sam still clutched tightly to his chest. He had to turn sideways to move through the door, and when he did, he noted that the inside of the room was spotless, the bed sitting as if it had been made years ago, and then forgotten. Gene realized that it probably had been, and he gave Chris a questioning look.
“Cartwright, go downstairs and get the lad some food. Skelton, show her where the kitchen is,” Gene said, and Annie and Chris both paused at the door, still staring at Sam as Gene continued to hold him, standing next to the bed. “Go on, sling your hook, the both of you. I want him to eat something in less than an hour,” Gene said, and Annie nodded, and then made for the stairs, a slightly dazed looking Chris following her. As they left, the door slowly swung shut behind them, and Gene watched this before he gently laid Sam down on the bed, and then moved to pull the coat and shoes off of him, and then pull the covers up and over him.
Gene noticed that Chris had brought in several extra pillows, likely every one that he owned, and piled them onto one side of the bed, and he slowly started to pile them behind Sam, who appeared to be asleep. When he was satisfied that he’d gotten Sam into as comfortable a position as he could manage, he glanced at the door again, and noted that he couldn’t hear the others moving about. He stared back at Sam, and felt his eyes start to burn at the sight of his DI, laying broken and thin, practically swallowed by the thick coverlet on the bed. He leaned down, almost instinctually, and let his lips slowly touch Sam’s, kissing him gently and stroking the side of his face as he did so. Sam’s eyes fluttered open as he felt Gene’s mouth grazing his, and he stared, not quite shocked, as Gene pulled away.
“Gene?” Sam asked, and Gene looked away, and then looked back down at Sam.
“I’m worried about you, is all,” Gene said, his own cheeks coloring slightly. “Thought you wouldn’t notice.”
Sam stared questioningly at Gene, remembering the feeling of his arms around him, and then swallowed, hard. “I don’t mind,” he said, softly, and noticed that Gene’s face had taken on an expression of slightly shocked gratitude. “It was nice,” Sam added, a soft whisper that Gene could barely hear, and Gene leaned down and kissed him again. This time, Sam tried to lean into the kiss, parting his lips slightly and kissing Gene back, and then the two of them parted, and Gene gave Sam an odd, unreadable look in response.
“You’ll be all right, Sam. Nothing’ll happen to you, not now,” Gene said, and he leaned in and kissed Sam softly, one more time. When they finally broke apart, Gene sat down on the bed next to Sam, feeling Sam’s thighs, under the covers, next to his own legs, and he reached forward and ran the back of his hand against the side of Sam’s face. “I’ll keep you safe,” he said, softly, and Sam was frightened to see a tear rolling down the side of Gene’s face. It was incredibly unlike him, and the idea of Gene Hunt crying was far more shocking than the idea of Gene kissing him; Sam had to close his eyes for a moment, and was glad that only the one tear had fallen. Part of him wanted to sleep, and another part of him wanted to be left alone, to think, and yet another part of him wished that Gene would kiss him again, would stay with him forever. He swallowed hard against his own tears, and the horrible, sinking feeling of being trapped and helpless, more vulnerable than he’d ever been in his life, reached up and overcame him, filling him with an odd, deep dread.
“Stay with me. Please. Just for a bit,” Sam said, trying to hold back his own tears, and to keep the fear and shame that his own vulnerability were dredging up at bay.
“I’m not going anywhere, Sam,” Gene said, and Sam felt Gene’s hand wrap around his once again, and then closed his eyes, falling quickly back into a deep, blessedly dream-free, sleep, concentrating on the feeling of Gene’s hand in his.
All comments, criticism, flames, compliments, and mutations of the bunny (you have no idea what your random thoughts might do to the plot) are highly encouraged and greatly appreciated!