Vic's Departure
Title: Vic’s Departure
Author: tagdott
Character(s): vic tyler, mention of warren, ruth, sam, andrea kembel, edwards, and ray and chris (though not by name),
Rating: Green Cortina
Warning: character death mentioned.
Word count: 989 give or take.
Notes: This is my first fic posting. Any and all comments welcome. Takes place shortly after episode 8 season1. Under the alias “Everett Collins, Vic Tyler leaves Manchester. From time to time a few men will either go to denial or at least evasion when in the early, stressful stages of parenthood. And thanks to everyone who sent the advice. Hope this works. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: They are not mine, but I wish I’d come up with them. They belong to BBC and KUDOS.
Tags: vic tyler, fic, short
Vic Tyler glanced about as he removed the bags from his locker at the terminal. It had taken him years to set himself up so well. And now it was all in ruins, well at least here. He carefully fished the black wallet from the side pocket of his smaller suitcase. He smiled, shaking his head slightly. “Everett Collins,” he said quietly, checking the identification and substantial amount of cash, “I believe you are going to do quite well for yourself.” He placed his other wallet, the beaten brown one he carried while in Manchester into the pale grey overnight bag. Straightening the slight folds in the fabric of his dark grey suit, he almost laughed as he ran his fingers through now short, nearly blond hair. Andrea Kembel had done an excellent job of cutting and styling it. He paid her enough. He’d never given much thought to the way women always made such a huge deal out of coloring their hair until he found out how useful it could be.
It had taken him less than a week to find what he needed to change his appearance, it was amazing what a few small changes can do for a man, he would be free this mess. Another life, country, possibly, the States. With what he had stashed in so many different accounts, he had lots to choose from; he still had all the old connections he’d made working for Warren. Granted, Steven Warren wasn’t the smartest poof in the world, but he made up for his shortcomings with a fair amount of brutality, cunning and arrogance. Warren’s mistakes, beginning to believe his own press and trusting Charlie Edwards. He underestimated the coppers, overstepped the bounds. It was truly a shame that the man would be locked up probably for the remainder of his life. After all, as a boss, he did pay well. But, there would be other bosses, other better paying jobs to do.
Vic considered starting his own business once. He had been working for Warren, almost six years by then. He and Ruth were on and off, he really hadn’t established himself. Then, she told him she was having his kid. He shaken, in denial he suspected her of catting about with every married or unclaimed man in town. He hoped it wasn’t his baby. Hell, he wasn’t in town long enough to father a kid. Besides, he didn’t have enough to start his own business yet. He could use them as cover if he needed. So he settled down just enough to get his family started, giving the clueless around him the notion that he was a poor hapless bloke trying to do what’s best for his family. It wasn’t as easy for him as it was for most. He had his problems, the cards, the track and all; not being able to always come up with the rent, (A very good reason to let payments fall behind, feign of poverty, save the money for the person who really matters). It was a good ten year run though. He made Fixer sooner than he even expected. Of course he had to eliminate some of his competition. It was enough to set up several connections, identities, families and move up in Steve Warren’s group to really feel at ease, doing it all and keeping his name from being mentioned outside the ranks. So he had killing a few people, there was no real harm in it. He did what he had to for his family. He’d never failed to do what was best for them.
Then, that damned nutter of a copper had to keep showing up in all the wrong places; doing his best to cause difficulties. The idiot kept him from setting their damned flat ablaze. He managed to cover by picking up the cigarette card and claiming to return for it. After all, it was one of the most important things to his little Sammy. He had no idea why it was so bloody important to this madman that he stick around and risk everything (Could he, this insane DI have fathered Ruth’s son and left him to deal with the burden? There was a resemblance). He should have killed him when he had the chance. So what if the brain dead bastard shared his son’s name. Vic should have left him as dead as that stupid sow in the red dress. After all, they started it all, coming after him the way they all did. They came between his family and himself. Granted, this was only an excuse, but still… No use whining about what can’t be fixed. Oh well, there were always other wives and other kids.
Vic Tyler briefly thought about going back to finish tying up a few loose ends. He mulled over getting rid of Ruth and Sammy, but that would cut deeply into his escape time. And in a way he did have some feelings for the girl, and her child, leaving her alone with a boy would be …cruel. But then his Ruthie was still young and beautiful, she’d find another man in no time. Even with the kid and that harpy of a sister of hers, Heather. He had so many chances to shut her up and didn’t take a single one. No, Ruth would be fine. She certainly wouldn’t waste her precious time and energy looking for him. She had her little Sammy to think about.
Vic walked right past the two Detectives from CID, the big blond brute with the hideous attempted porno style mustache, and the little dark haired twit. He joined the rest of the crowd boarding the trail to London. They didn’t even look his way when he stepped into the damned train car.
“Oh, my sweet Godfathers,” he said, laughing at them. “You’re all as useless as you look.”
END