Fic: Our House Made Out Of Paper
Title: Our House Made Out Of Paper
Fandom: Whitechapel
Author: phantomreviewer
Pairings/Characters: Kent. OFC (Gillian), OFC (Louise), OMC (Tom), OMC (Martin)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: ITV
Warnings: Non-graphic description of the attack from Series 2 .
A/N: I wanted to try my hand at THIS (and maybe THIS) kinkmeme fill and in putting the ideas for that fic together I had to flesh out Kent’s flatmates a little bit more, which became this fic. Keep an eye out for these four, they're likely to become recurring characters. Fun little fact three of the four surnames of Kent't flatmates (that are never actually revealed in this fic) are the names of my university colleges. I may have to do a little Kent + flatmates fact file since I went a little over board and worked out the details like rent and how far each of them have to commute to work, I blame signing my tennency agreement for 2nd year housing, I got a little hooked on the whole housing thing. Title comes from Ellie Goulding's "Under The Sheets."
Summary: After the attack Kent has to get home. To get home Kent has to tell his flatmates what happened.
The first person that Kent asked to be contacted was Chandler, but the doctor who was seeing to him swiftly informed him that he was already on his way, for some reason that made Kent feel worse, rather than better. But he tried to push it aside.
Instead it rests in his gut with the guilt and the fear.
But he gritted his teeth as he was pushed toward theatre.
He had more important things to worry about.
After theatre had turned to basic surgery and basic surgery turned into a couple of nights for surveillance, his thoughts started to turn towards home.
About how he’d rather be there, in his own bed, with his own sheets, rather than in the clinical lime-green of the NHS.
When the one of the nurses eventually told him that he there’d be no long term damage other than the scarring -“I’m afraid that there is little that can be done for that Mr Kent”- and that he should regain full mobility within a few weeks to a month “- and until then you really should use these crutches Mr Kent”, he wants to be discharged.
The nurse nodded, not unkindly, and made a note on her form.
“Do you have any family who will be able to collect you?”
Kent shook his head, but explained to the bored looking nurse that he’s got flatmates who wouldn’t mind picking him up from hospital.
It’s only then, days after the incident that he realises that he hasn’t told any of his flatmates what had happened.
It’s not unusual for any of them to spend a few days away from the flat without notice, the last time that Martin had gone AWOL he’d been absent for a good week and a half. He’d been to Frankfurt apparently, or so he’d told them later. Considering that Kent had found his passport in the bread bin of all places the third day of his absence, they’d all decided that it would be better not to ask what had really happened. After all Martin had been happy enough.
In the end he called Tom.
He doesn’t want either of the girls fawning over him down the telephone, when he tries to explain exactly what happened and he thinks that Tom should be the most mature about it. Or at least, wouldn’t splutter a laugh when he explains why they drive home will be uncomfortable.
In the end that plan is put paid to by Gillian picking up her boyfriend’s phone and giggling at him down the phone before he’s quite worked out how he’s going to phrase what needs saying.
“Well look who it is, Emerson, we’ve not seen you for a couple of days, get lucky ‘ey?”
He splutters slightly. Since when have his flat ever known him to get lucky, if anything this proves that he only ever gets the opposite of luck?
“I’m in hospital Gil, was wondering if Tom could stretch to come and pick me up? Need discharging and a lift home.”
She doesn’t gasp dramatically, but Kent can hear her quick intake of breath.
“Oh, oh god I’m so sorry, I’ve put my foot right in it. Are you alright? Jesus what happened?”
He doesn’t want to say that he got attacked when he was at work, it seems somehow embarrassing, what with being a “big bad police officer” as Martin says, (more often than not Kent replies that he’s “a detective not a police officer, you tosser” before throwing the remote control at him but the effect remains the same) but in the end it’s what it boils down to.
“I was-” he doesn’t want his voice to hitch here, but pauses momentarily before speaking “-knifed a couple of days ago, they’ve been keeping me in to keep an eye on me. I’m okay. Okay enough to be released anyway.”
“Oh my god. Did you- have they been caught? Did your team mates get them? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
It’s too many questions, and suddenly Kent realises that he doesn’t know how the investigation’s been going. He wants to know. He wants to know if they catch them. He wants to know when they catch them. He knows that they will.
“It’s… connected to the case we’ve been working on. I don’t think I should say anymore.”
He almost asks her not to tell the others apart from Tom, but he knows that it’s no good. Gossip spreads like wildfire in their flat; he’d had to swear them to secrecy once they worked out that he was part of the team working on the new Ripper attacks and that only worked ‘cause they were too busy teasing him about how he’d suddenly smartened up.
“Oh Emerson,” she sounds like she wants to hug him, to be honest, despite not wanted to be coddled Kent doesn’t think he’d mind too much for some physical contact that didn’t want to injure him, “’afraid Tom’s got a meeting till late tonight, berk forgot his phone again.”
Kent can hear the affection in her voice, it should get frustrating living with a couple, but Tom and Gillian are down to earth enough not to piss the rest of them singletons off, too much.
“But Louise’s got the night shift, I could see if she could come pick you up?”
He isn’t as close to Louise as he is the rest of the flat. She’s a perfectly nice woman, it’s just that she’s both a few years older and a few inches taller than him- and it isn’t that he feels intimidated by her, it’s just a little emasculating.
But right down he wouldn’t care less if it was Gillian, Llewellyn or even Fitzgerald who took him home, as long as he could go home.
“Please.”
He can hear the faint burble of conversation which he supposes is Gillian telling Louise what had happened. He partly hopes that Martin’s in the same room, just so that he doesn’t have to explain himself again.
Even as he thinks this he realises that he hasn’t told Gillian where he’d been injured, and as sympathetic as his flatmates surely are, he knows that they’ll laugh, at least a little bit.
He thinks that he can hear the closing of a door through the static of the phone.
“She’s on her way, just getting the car, be with you in a few. It’ll be good to see you Emerson.”
The crutches are uncomfortable and he can feel them biting into the palms of his hands as he stands waiting for Louise. He’s already been discharged and more than anything he’s looking forward to getting out of there.
Louise gives him a little half smile when she sees him and Kent realises that the crutches must be making him stoop as she feels taller than ever.
She gives him a quick hug that’s more of a tight squeeze to the shoulders than anything else, but with that fact that Kent’s supporting himself upright with the crutches it’s the best that either of them could manage.
It’s not awkward up until when he eases himself down into the passenger’s seat and hisses.
Thankfully Louise is intelligent enough to put the two together, and although her cheeks flame red she doesn’t say anything about the injury.
Instead she babbles about Martin’s attempts to ask her brother on a date again, and how they were thinking of upping the stakes on the ‘when Tom-and-Gillian-are-going-to-get-engaged’ bet after Tom casually mentioned something about a promotion. Kent actually laughs at this; it’s been a cause of confusion to the rest of them why Mr Job-in-the-City and Miss Doing-Her-Masters hadn’t got hitched months ago, the couple themselves seemed pretty much oblivious to their obvious confusion.
It’s not long before they’re pulling up in Wellesley Street.
“You going to need a hand Emerson?”
He tries to tell himself that it’s not a display of weakness to nod.
In the end Louise lets him grab her forearms and pull himself bodily out of the car, she doesn’t say a word between locking the car, taking his crutches in one hand and wrapping one arm around his shoulders. He feels awkward for a moment before putting his arm around her waist for support.
Kent thinks that he’d going to need some practice before attempting the stairs with his crutches.
“Thanks.”
She shrugs gently, and he can feel the movement though his own shoulders.
“No problem Emerson.”
The stairs don’t take too long all things considered and the door is opened for them before they even reach it.
It’s Martin, and for once he doesn’t have a smart comment as he takes the crutches from Louise and leans them by the side of the doorframe.
“Glad you’re okay mate.”
Kent smiles, and he can hear Gillian moving about inside the kitchen before he steps over the threshold.
The front door closes behind him, and Kent doesn’t flinch.
He’s still upset, in pain and slightly scared.
But he’s got his friends.
He knows that the team is working to solve this case, to bring justice to all of the victims, including him.
But he’s home.
And that’s enough for now.
Fandom: Whitechapel
Author: phantomreviewer
Pairings/Characters: Kent. OFC (Gillian), OFC (Louise), OMC (Tom), OMC (Martin)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: ITV
Warnings: Non-graphic description of the attack from Series 2 .
A/N: I wanted to try my hand at THIS (and maybe THIS) kinkmeme fill and in putting the ideas for that fic together I had to flesh out Kent’s flatmates a little bit more, which became this fic. Keep an eye out for these four, they're likely to become recurring characters. Fun little fact three of the four surnames of Kent't flatmates (that are never actually revealed in this fic) are the names of my university colleges. I may have to do a little Kent + flatmates fact file since I went a little over board and worked out the details like rent and how far each of them have to commute to work, I blame signing my tennency agreement for 2nd year housing, I got a little hooked on the whole housing thing. Title comes from Ellie Goulding's "Under The Sheets."
Summary: After the attack Kent has to get home. To get home Kent has to tell his flatmates what happened.
The first person that Kent asked to be contacted was Chandler, but the doctor who was seeing to him swiftly informed him that he was already on his way, for some reason that made Kent feel worse, rather than better. But he tried to push it aside.
Instead it rests in his gut with the guilt and the fear.
But he gritted his teeth as he was pushed toward theatre.
He had more important things to worry about.
After theatre had turned to basic surgery and basic surgery turned into a couple of nights for surveillance, his thoughts started to turn towards home.
About how he’d rather be there, in his own bed, with his own sheets, rather than in the clinical lime-green of the NHS.
When the one of the nurses eventually told him that he there’d be no long term damage other than the scarring -“I’m afraid that there is little that can be done for that Mr Kent”- and that he should regain full mobility within a few weeks to a month “- and until then you really should use these crutches Mr Kent”, he wants to be discharged.
The nurse nodded, not unkindly, and made a note on her form.
“Do you have any family who will be able to collect you?”
Kent shook his head, but explained to the bored looking nurse that he’s got flatmates who wouldn’t mind picking him up from hospital.
It’s only then, days after the incident that he realises that he hasn’t told any of his flatmates what had happened.
It’s not unusual for any of them to spend a few days away from the flat without notice, the last time that Martin had gone AWOL he’d been absent for a good week and a half. He’d been to Frankfurt apparently, or so he’d told them later. Considering that Kent had found his passport in the bread bin of all places the third day of his absence, they’d all decided that it would be better not to ask what had really happened. After all Martin had been happy enough.
In the end he called Tom.
He doesn’t want either of the girls fawning over him down the telephone, when he tries to explain exactly what happened and he thinks that Tom should be the most mature about it. Or at least, wouldn’t splutter a laugh when he explains why they drive home will be uncomfortable.
In the end that plan is put paid to by Gillian picking up her boyfriend’s phone and giggling at him down the phone before he’s quite worked out how he’s going to phrase what needs saying.
“Well look who it is, Emerson, we’ve not seen you for a couple of days, get lucky ‘ey?”
He splutters slightly. Since when have his flat ever known him to get lucky, if anything this proves that he only ever gets the opposite of luck?
“I’m in hospital Gil, was wondering if Tom could stretch to come and pick me up? Need discharging and a lift home.”
She doesn’t gasp dramatically, but Kent can hear her quick intake of breath.
“Oh, oh god I’m so sorry, I’ve put my foot right in it. Are you alright? Jesus what happened?”
He doesn’t want to say that he got attacked when he was at work, it seems somehow embarrassing, what with being a “big bad police officer” as Martin says, (more often than not Kent replies that he’s “a detective not a police officer, you tosser” before throwing the remote control at him but the effect remains the same) but in the end it’s what it boils down to.
“I was-” he doesn’t want his voice to hitch here, but pauses momentarily before speaking “-knifed a couple of days ago, they’ve been keeping me in to keep an eye on me. I’m okay. Okay enough to be released anyway.”
“Oh my god. Did you- have they been caught? Did your team mates get them? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
It’s too many questions, and suddenly Kent realises that he doesn’t know how the investigation’s been going. He wants to know. He wants to know if they catch them. He wants to know when they catch them. He knows that they will.
“It’s… connected to the case we’ve been working on. I don’t think I should say anymore.”
He almost asks her not to tell the others apart from Tom, but he knows that it’s no good. Gossip spreads like wildfire in their flat; he’d had to swear them to secrecy once they worked out that he was part of the team working on the new Ripper attacks and that only worked ‘cause they were too busy teasing him about how he’d suddenly smartened up.
“Oh Emerson,” she sounds like she wants to hug him, to be honest, despite not wanted to be coddled Kent doesn’t think he’d mind too much for some physical contact that didn’t want to injure him, “’afraid Tom’s got a meeting till late tonight, berk forgot his phone again.”
Kent can hear the affection in her voice, it should get frustrating living with a couple, but Tom and Gillian are down to earth enough not to piss the rest of them singletons off, too much.
“But Louise’s got the night shift, I could see if she could come pick you up?”
He isn’t as close to Louise as he is the rest of the flat. She’s a perfectly nice woman, it’s just that she’s both a few years older and a few inches taller than him- and it isn’t that he feels intimidated by her, it’s just a little emasculating.
But right down he wouldn’t care less if it was Gillian, Llewellyn or even Fitzgerald who took him home, as long as he could go home.
“Please.”
He can hear the faint burble of conversation which he supposes is Gillian telling Louise what had happened. He partly hopes that Martin’s in the same room, just so that he doesn’t have to explain himself again.
Even as he thinks this he realises that he hasn’t told Gillian where he’d been injured, and as sympathetic as his flatmates surely are, he knows that they’ll laugh, at least a little bit.
He thinks that he can hear the closing of a door through the static of the phone.
“She’s on her way, just getting the car, be with you in a few. It’ll be good to see you Emerson.”
The crutches are uncomfortable and he can feel them biting into the palms of his hands as he stands waiting for Louise. He’s already been discharged and more than anything he’s looking forward to getting out of there.
Louise gives him a little half smile when she sees him and Kent realises that the crutches must be making him stoop as she feels taller than ever.
She gives him a quick hug that’s more of a tight squeeze to the shoulders than anything else, but with that fact that Kent’s supporting himself upright with the crutches it’s the best that either of them could manage.
It’s not awkward up until when he eases himself down into the passenger’s seat and hisses.
Thankfully Louise is intelligent enough to put the two together, and although her cheeks flame red she doesn’t say anything about the injury.
Instead she babbles about Martin’s attempts to ask her brother on a date again, and how they were thinking of upping the stakes on the ‘when Tom-and-Gillian-are-going-to-get-engaged’ bet after Tom casually mentioned something about a promotion. Kent actually laughs at this; it’s been a cause of confusion to the rest of them why Mr Job-in-the-City and Miss Doing-Her-Masters hadn’t got hitched months ago, the couple themselves seemed pretty much oblivious to their obvious confusion.
It’s not long before they’re pulling up in Wellesley Street.
“You going to need a hand Emerson?”
He tries to tell himself that it’s not a display of weakness to nod.
In the end Louise lets him grab her forearms and pull himself bodily out of the car, she doesn’t say a word between locking the car, taking his crutches in one hand and wrapping one arm around his shoulders. He feels awkward for a moment before putting his arm around her waist for support.
Kent thinks that he’d going to need some practice before attempting the stairs with his crutches.
“Thanks.”
She shrugs gently, and he can feel the movement though his own shoulders.
“No problem Emerson.”
The stairs don’t take too long all things considered and the door is opened for them before they even reach it.
It’s Martin, and for once he doesn’t have a smart comment as he takes the crutches from Louise and leans them by the side of the doorframe.
“Glad you’re okay mate.”
Kent smiles, and he can hear Gillian moving about inside the kitchen before he steps over the threshold.
The front door closes behind him, and Kent doesn’t flinch.
He’s still upset, in pain and slightly scared.
But he’s got his friends.
He knows that the team is working to solve this case, to bring justice to all of the victims, including him.
But he’s home.
And that’s enough for now.