Fic: Steady As She Goes (70/86), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: Steady As She Goes (70/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1546 this part; [123,979 overall]
Summary for Whole: After an accidental shooting at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart while his and Sam's friendship is pushed to the limits.
Summary this Part: Sam tries to convince Gene and takes care of Chris.
Rating: still Blue-ish Cortina, uhm, what's slightly darker than blue?
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, violent imagery, minor drug use, mild sexual situations, self-harm for whole
Spoilers: none here; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya, Gene/missus
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Sorry I've been a little MIA but here's a fancy new chapter for you!
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
“Why won’t you believe me?” Sam slammed his empty glass on the counter, the concern evident in Gene’s eyes making him even more uncomfortable.
Gene glanced around the Arms noticing the pairs of eyes that kept darting in their direction. He finished his own drink then grabbed Tyler by his collar and carefully, but forcefully, frog-marched him out the back of the pub. Sam had drank only one pint but was already wobbly on his feet and not able to put up much resistance. Maybe drinking had not been Gene’s best idea, though he would never admit it.
Once outside he allowed Sam to shrug him off. Gene stayed by the door as he watched Tyler pace nervously before him. He padded his pockets, cursing inwardly as he realized he’d left his ciggies on the table with Ray. “Why don’t I believe you?” He asked, settling for stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. “Don’t know. Not like you’re prone to seeing things is it?”
Sam clenched his fist and took a swing at Gene’s face but his attack was sloppy and uncoordinated. The Guv easily caught Tyler’s hand in his own and twisted the thin arm behind the fuming man’s back. He held Sam tight, patiently waiting for him to stop struggling.
“Goin’ to try that again Tyler?” He whispered in his ear. Sam let his tense body go limp and Gene released him from his grip. “Now, tell me again what you think you saw.”
Sam was breathing heavily, desperate to regain some composure as he brushed his right hand through his hair then began to rub it up and down his left arm. It always made Gene nervous when he did that. He knew Sam did it subconsciously and he didn’t like it when Sam did things he wasn’t aware he was doing.
“I was walking home from the station. I was about three blocks from my flat when I stopped to take a rest. He came out of a nearby building. I saw who it was and hid in the alley until he passed. Then I came directly here.”
“What makes you think it was one of them?”
Sam closed his eyes and organized his thoughts. He had to stay calm and rational if he was to get Gene to believe him. “His hair had grown back in but I saw his face. I heard his voice. I could never forget that voice.”
Sam’s eyes went glassy and Gene saw Tyler’s mind drifting back to that day that seemed ages ago to Gene but like yesterday to Sam.
“Ignoring the fact it was dark and that lately your brain’s been more twisted than a nun’s knickers after catching the pope naked, you actually believe this murdering toerag could’ve been in my city all this time and I still couldn’t find ‘im?”
“No Guv. But...christ Gene. It was him. I know it was him.”
For the umpteenth time that month, Gene regarded Sam carefully, deciding the proper course of action. Tyler still looked so very strung out but he had done well today with the widow, with the suicide note. He’d almost been back to his old self. Whatever he had seen, whomever, it had clearly shaken him again. Gene wondered what it was like to live your life in a blender.
“Ray an’ I’ll go round there in the morning. Knock on a few doors. See who knows what. When you come in after lunch I want you back lookin’ into that Graham mess. Might actually have something there Sammy-boy.”
Sam nodded obediently, accepting that this was the best he could expect from the DCI.
“Now go home. You look worse than me missus ‘fore her first cup of coffee.”
Sam, who had relaxed slightly while listening to Gene’s plan for tomorrow, suddenly tensed at the mention of returning to his flat. He said nothing but his discomfort was clearly visible to Gene’s trained eye.
“Oh, an’ I need you to take Skelton with you.”
“What?” Sam’s confusion temporarily displaced his unease.
“Lad’s completely knackered. If I send ‘im home like that again his mum’ll tear off me balls an’ use ‘em in her next meat pie.”
“Why not let Ray take him?”
“You’re closer.”
That was the end of the discussion as Gene returned to the warmth of the pub, leaving Sam to shuffle slowly behind.
*
“Easy Chris. Easy. Watch your...whoa! Okay. Just...lean there, okay?”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Chris hiccupped as he slouched against the wall outside Sam’s flat while his superior fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door. Once the entrance was clear, Sam returned his keys to his pocket and helped Chris inside.
“Right. Here we go. Watch your step...and, okay. That’s fine.”
Chris fell onto the camp bed, the springs squeaking loudly as his body collided with the mattress. “Thanks Boss. Me mum’d be furious she found me like this,” the DC slurred as Sam closed and secured his door.
“Don’t worry about it. Just get some sleep.” Sam took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his door, careful not to aggravate the tear he had yet to repair.
“Where’m I?” Chris groggily looked around.
“My flat, Chris,” Sam sighed.
“No. Mean...’M I on the bed?” He struggled to push himself up. “ ‘S not right. I should...you should sleep ‘ere, Boss. ‘S your flat.” Chris tried to sit up but failed miserably.
“It’s fine Chris,” Sam tried to assure him.
“No. ‘S not. You need...” Chris managed to force his uncooperative body into a sitting position. “Need proper sleep more ‘n I do. I’ll kip in the chair.” Chris pointed to the armchair across the room, tried to stand, and fell flat on his face. Sam sighed again and knelt down to help the poor man back up.
“You really shouldn’t drink so much Chris,” he scolded as he pulled Skelton up and over to the chair.
“Everyone else does Boss,” he shrugged meekly and fell into the waiting chair.
“Well it’s not healthy. Your liver’ll be shot before they introduce the first home computer.” Sam continued to lecture as he bent down to remove Chris’ shoes. “And you don’t have to call me ‘boss’. I’m not your DI anymore.”
“You will be sir,” Chris yawned.
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Sam confessed sadly as he set Chris’ shoes aside.
“Nonsense Boss,” his eyelids drooped and Sam started to remove the drunken lad’s suit jacket. “Guv’ll take yeh back. ‘E has to.”
“Glad you think so,” Sam smiled uneasily as he clutched Chris’ jacket in his hands but the Constable was already asleep and snoring softly. Sam hung the jacket on the door next to his, double-checking that he’d set the lock, then turned back to Chris. “Even if you’re not real...I’m sorry I let you down,” he whispered softly and, after confirming the windows were also properly secured, was soon asleep himself.
*
Chris’ head was cloudy with a chance of pain. He kept his eyes closed as he rubbed his aching head with his hand, hoping to clear the ringing in his ears and return to sleep where a scantily clad Ursula Andress and a brand new Aston Martin were waiting for him. As he became more awake than asleep, he began to realize the sound filling his head wasn’t a ringing in his ears but screams from Tyler’s throat.
“Boss?” He tripped getting out of the chair then scrambled to the bed, using the frame to hoist himself to a kneeling position as he watched Sam suffering from what must have been the worst nightmare in history. He reached out his hand and tried to shake the thrashing Sam awake. “C’mon Boss. Wake up. ‘S just a dream is all. DI Tyler?... You’re making me nervous, sir. Please wake up.”
Sam’s eyes finally snapped open and his body shot up, his back ramrod straight as his eyes darted round the room, finally settling on Chris. “Did you see them? Did you see them?” His voice was high and shaky as he grabbed Chris’ shoulders and held them tight.
“No one’s ‘ere, sir. Just me. There weren’t anyone else. Just a dream, like.”
“Are you sure Chris? I need you to be sure.” He shook him gently, searching for the truth.
“Yes sir. Positive.” Chris slowly stood and Sam let his arms drop down to his side. It was Chris’ turn to take him by the shoulders and he gently laid the fraught man down. “You should go back to sleep. It’ll be alright. It were just a dream.”
He stood by the bed, staring at the phone on the shelf and wondering if he should ring the Guv, until Sam fell back into fitful sleep. Chris reached for the phone and drew back his hand several times before sitting back down in the chair. The Guv didn’t really need to know about the nightmares, did he? He probably already knew about them anyway. As he watched Sam toss and turn and sweat in his sleep, he knew it was wrong, but he was really glad he’d only been shot and not kidnapped. He never wanted to get kidnapped. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
__________
Part 71
Author: dak
Word Count: 1546 this part; [123,979 overall]
Summary for Whole: After an accidental shooting at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart while his and Sam's friendship is pushed to the limits.
Summary this Part: Sam tries to convince Gene and takes care of Chris.
Rating: still Blue-ish Cortina, uhm, what's slightly darker than blue?
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, violent imagery, minor drug use, mild sexual situations, self-harm for whole
Spoilers: none here; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya, Gene/missus
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Sorry I've been a little MIA but here's a fancy new chapter for you!
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
“Why won’t you believe me?” Sam slammed his empty glass on the counter, the concern evident in Gene’s eyes making him even more uncomfortable.
Gene glanced around the Arms noticing the pairs of eyes that kept darting in their direction. He finished his own drink then grabbed Tyler by his collar and carefully, but forcefully, frog-marched him out the back of the pub. Sam had drank only one pint but was already wobbly on his feet and not able to put up much resistance. Maybe drinking had not been Gene’s best idea, though he would never admit it.
Once outside he allowed Sam to shrug him off. Gene stayed by the door as he watched Tyler pace nervously before him. He padded his pockets, cursing inwardly as he realized he’d left his ciggies on the table with Ray. “Why don’t I believe you?” He asked, settling for stuffing his hands in his pockets instead. “Don’t know. Not like you’re prone to seeing things is it?”
Sam clenched his fist and took a swing at Gene’s face but his attack was sloppy and uncoordinated. The Guv easily caught Tyler’s hand in his own and twisted the thin arm behind the fuming man’s back. He held Sam tight, patiently waiting for him to stop struggling.
“Goin’ to try that again Tyler?” He whispered in his ear. Sam let his tense body go limp and Gene released him from his grip. “Now, tell me again what you think you saw.”
Sam was breathing heavily, desperate to regain some composure as he brushed his right hand through his hair then began to rub it up and down his left arm. It always made Gene nervous when he did that. He knew Sam did it subconsciously and he didn’t like it when Sam did things he wasn’t aware he was doing.
“I was walking home from the station. I was about three blocks from my flat when I stopped to take a rest. He came out of a nearby building. I saw who it was and hid in the alley until he passed. Then I came directly here.”
“What makes you think it was one of them?”
Sam closed his eyes and organized his thoughts. He had to stay calm and rational if he was to get Gene to believe him. “His hair had grown back in but I saw his face. I heard his voice. I could never forget that voice.”
Sam’s eyes went glassy and Gene saw Tyler’s mind drifting back to that day that seemed ages ago to Gene but like yesterday to Sam.
“Ignoring the fact it was dark and that lately your brain’s been more twisted than a nun’s knickers after catching the pope naked, you actually believe this murdering toerag could’ve been in my city all this time and I still couldn’t find ‘im?”
“No Guv. But...christ Gene. It was him. I know it was him.”
For the umpteenth time that month, Gene regarded Sam carefully, deciding the proper course of action. Tyler still looked so very strung out but he had done well today with the widow, with the suicide note. He’d almost been back to his old self. Whatever he had seen, whomever, it had clearly shaken him again. Gene wondered what it was like to live your life in a blender.
“Ray an’ I’ll go round there in the morning. Knock on a few doors. See who knows what. When you come in after lunch I want you back lookin’ into that Graham mess. Might actually have something there Sammy-boy.”
Sam nodded obediently, accepting that this was the best he could expect from the DCI.
“Now go home. You look worse than me missus ‘fore her first cup of coffee.”
Sam, who had relaxed slightly while listening to Gene’s plan for tomorrow, suddenly tensed at the mention of returning to his flat. He said nothing but his discomfort was clearly visible to Gene’s trained eye.
“Oh, an’ I need you to take Skelton with you.”
“What?” Sam’s confusion temporarily displaced his unease.
“Lad’s completely knackered. If I send ‘im home like that again his mum’ll tear off me balls an’ use ‘em in her next meat pie.”
“Why not let Ray take him?”
“You’re closer.”
That was the end of the discussion as Gene returned to the warmth of the pub, leaving Sam to shuffle slowly behind.
*
“Easy Chris. Easy. Watch your...whoa! Okay. Just...lean there, okay?”
“Sure thing, Boss,” Chris hiccupped as he slouched against the wall outside Sam’s flat while his superior fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door. Once the entrance was clear, Sam returned his keys to his pocket and helped Chris inside.
“Right. Here we go. Watch your step...and, okay. That’s fine.”
Chris fell onto the camp bed, the springs squeaking loudly as his body collided with the mattress. “Thanks Boss. Me mum’d be furious she found me like this,” the DC slurred as Sam closed and secured his door.
“Don’t worry about it. Just get some sleep.” Sam took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his door, careful not to aggravate the tear he had yet to repair.
“Where’m I?” Chris groggily looked around.
“My flat, Chris,” Sam sighed.
“No. Mean...’M I on the bed?” He struggled to push himself up. “ ‘S not right. I should...you should sleep ‘ere, Boss. ‘S your flat.” Chris tried to sit up but failed miserably.
“It’s fine Chris,” Sam tried to assure him.
“No. ‘S not. You need...” Chris managed to force his uncooperative body into a sitting position. “Need proper sleep more ‘n I do. I’ll kip in the chair.” Chris pointed to the armchair across the room, tried to stand, and fell flat on his face. Sam sighed again and knelt down to help the poor man back up.
“You really shouldn’t drink so much Chris,” he scolded as he pulled Skelton up and over to the chair.
“Everyone else does Boss,” he shrugged meekly and fell into the waiting chair.
“Well it’s not healthy. Your liver’ll be shot before they introduce the first home computer.” Sam continued to lecture as he bent down to remove Chris’ shoes. “And you don’t have to call me ‘boss’. I’m not your DI anymore.”
“You will be sir,” Chris yawned.
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Sam confessed sadly as he set Chris’ shoes aside.
“Nonsense Boss,” his eyelids drooped and Sam started to remove the drunken lad’s suit jacket. “Guv’ll take yeh back. ‘E has to.”
“Glad you think so,” Sam smiled uneasily as he clutched Chris’ jacket in his hands but the Constable was already asleep and snoring softly. Sam hung the jacket on the door next to his, double-checking that he’d set the lock, then turned back to Chris. “Even if you’re not real...I’m sorry I let you down,” he whispered softly and, after confirming the windows were also properly secured, was soon asleep himself.
*
Chris’ head was cloudy with a chance of pain. He kept his eyes closed as he rubbed his aching head with his hand, hoping to clear the ringing in his ears and return to sleep where a scantily clad Ursula Andress and a brand new Aston Martin were waiting for him. As he became more awake than asleep, he began to realize the sound filling his head wasn’t a ringing in his ears but screams from Tyler’s throat.
“Boss?” He tripped getting out of the chair then scrambled to the bed, using the frame to hoist himself to a kneeling position as he watched Sam suffering from what must have been the worst nightmare in history. He reached out his hand and tried to shake the thrashing Sam awake. “C’mon Boss. Wake up. ‘S just a dream is all. DI Tyler?... You’re making me nervous, sir. Please wake up.”
Sam’s eyes finally snapped open and his body shot up, his back ramrod straight as his eyes darted round the room, finally settling on Chris. “Did you see them? Did you see them?” His voice was high and shaky as he grabbed Chris’ shoulders and held them tight.
“No one’s ‘ere, sir. Just me. There weren’t anyone else. Just a dream, like.”
“Are you sure Chris? I need you to be sure.” He shook him gently, searching for the truth.
“Yes sir. Positive.” Chris slowly stood and Sam let his arms drop down to his side. It was Chris’ turn to take him by the shoulders and he gently laid the fraught man down. “You should go back to sleep. It’ll be alright. It were just a dream.”
He stood by the bed, staring at the phone on the shelf and wondering if he should ring the Guv, until Sam fell back into fitful sleep. Chris reached for the phone and drew back his hand several times before sitting back down in the chair. The Guv didn’t really need to know about the nightmares, did he? He probably already knew about them anyway. As he watched Sam toss and turn and sweat in his sleep, he knew it was wrong, but he was really glad he’d only been shot and not kidnapped. He never wanted to get kidnapped. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
__________
Part 71