Losing Both Worlds by Bonomania. Green Cortina. Sam/Gene
Annie entered the room where herself and Chris had carried Sam after his collapse. He lay with his hands across his chest and looked pale in the face. He was still out cold and had been for almost an hour. Gene stood in the doorway staring at Sam with pursed lips and two distinctive frown lines on his forehead. The frown lines only meant one thing - that Gene was thinking, but this often resulted in Hunt satisfying the hunger he had in his fist and thumping someone or something…so why should this be any different? Annie crept round the room and took a seat next to Sam.
“What’re you tip-toeing, bein’ all la di da ‘round him for?” Gene asked, brashly, “He’s not ‘avin a nap! We want to wake him up, you tart.” Annie took Sam’s hand and shook it gently.
“Come on, Sam. Wake up. You’re missing out on all the fun,” Annie said softly.
“Come back to us.”
*
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The voice of Sam’s mum bled into his head. His eyes were closed, but he could see a blurred silhouette darting in front of him.
“Sam. I’m here love. Come back to us, love. I’ll always be here.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The voice began to fade into another familiar noise that grated on his mind. He couldn’t quite summon up the energy to open his eyes, but could hear Gene’s harsh tones wavering somewhere in the distance.
*
“Bloody ‘ell, Cartwright! That wouldn’t wake a bloody bat with a hearing aid.” He turned his attention to Sam. “Sam Sammy Boy, wake up!” There was a pause and an awkward silence before the back of Gene’s hand came to blows with the side of Sam’s face. Not hard mind, but enough to make Annie protest.
“Guv! What’d you do that for?”
“Calm down flash knickers,” Gene began, but he was immediately distracted by the movement from the sofa. Sam’s head swayed and his eyes flickered before opening wide, as though to pull in as much light as possible. “Welcome back Sammy Boy.” Sam was dazed and confused, and his eyes were still adjusting to the light. Gene shot Annie a look, “you can always trust the Gene Genie,” he said before clicking his tongue twice and leaving the room, carrying a sickeningly smug grin.
Sam rubbed his eyes and looked to Annie with a pained expression painted across his face. “My head is throbbin’.” A sympathetic Annie brushed his hair back and felt his forehead.
“It’s probably a migraine…or the Guv hit you harder than I thought,” she chuckled.
“He hit me?” exclaimed Sam, unusually surprised about being hit by his DCI.
“He was just trying to wake you, is all.”
“Bloody hell, Annie. He tortures me even when I’m unconscious. Does the Guv ever think without using his fist?” Sam retorted, swinging his legs off the sofa and holding his head in his hands.
“Oi! I ‘eard that.” Gene stormed into the room and forced a cup of coffee under Sam’s nose. “Take it. I’ve even given ya one of me Garibaldi’s, but don’t tell them lot. Don’t want ‘em thinkin' I’ve gone all Dorothy on ya now, do we?”
A Garibaldi? Sam could sense that the Guv was slightly worried about him. Those biscuits weren’t to be touched ‘without the say so of DCI Gene Hunt,’ the message was tattooed on the tin. For him to offer one of these to Sam, or in his words, ‘the picky pain in the arse’ showed a new side of Gene Hunt, one which Sam felt sure he would not see again for a long time. Usually, something as unique as this moment would have filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy had it not been for the fact his head felt as though it was splitting in two.
“Doc wants you to go for some blood tests tomorrow mornin'. Don’t think you’re ‘avin the day off mind.” Sam took the cup of coffee, but his eyes were still screwed up as he tried to reduce the pain in his head. “What you holdin’ your ‘ead for? What’s wrong w'ya?” Gene asked, sounding vaguely concerned, but hiding it well through the power in his voice.
“It might be the blow to the head I managed to get while I was out of it!” Sam snapped back at him, still holding his head in his one free hand.
“Don’t be such a nonce! It wasn’t that 'ard. Did the job, din'it? You’re awake, aren’t ya?” Gene knew that if Sam was in pain, he’d also be more of a pain in the arse, the last thing Sam needed at this moment was another a battering from his DCI, so Gene decided to leave him to it.
“What’re you tip-toeing, bein’ all la di da ‘round him for?” Gene asked, brashly, “He’s not ‘avin a nap! We want to wake him up, you tart.” Annie took Sam’s hand and shook it gently.
“Come on, Sam. Wake up. You’re missing out on all the fun,” Annie said softly.
“Come back to us.”
*
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The voice of Sam’s mum bled into his head. His eyes were closed, but he could see a blurred silhouette darting in front of him.
“Sam. I’m here love. Come back to us, love. I’ll always be here.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The voice began to fade into another familiar noise that grated on his mind. He couldn’t quite summon up the energy to open his eyes, but could hear Gene’s harsh tones wavering somewhere in the distance.
*
“Bloody ‘ell, Cartwright! That wouldn’t wake a bloody bat with a hearing aid.” He turned his attention to Sam. “Sam Sammy Boy, wake up!” There was a pause and an awkward silence before the back of Gene’s hand came to blows with the side of Sam’s face. Not hard mind, but enough to make Annie protest.
“Guv! What’d you do that for?”
“Calm down flash knickers,” Gene began, but he was immediately distracted by the movement from the sofa. Sam’s head swayed and his eyes flickered before opening wide, as though to pull in as much light as possible. “Welcome back Sammy Boy.” Sam was dazed and confused, and his eyes were still adjusting to the light. Gene shot Annie a look, “you can always trust the Gene Genie,” he said before clicking his tongue twice and leaving the room, carrying a sickeningly smug grin.
Sam rubbed his eyes and looked to Annie with a pained expression painted across his face. “My head is throbbin’.” A sympathetic Annie brushed his hair back and felt his forehead.
“It’s probably a migraine…or the Guv hit you harder than I thought,” she chuckled.
“He hit me?” exclaimed Sam, unusually surprised about being hit by his DCI.
“He was just trying to wake you, is all.”
“Bloody hell, Annie. He tortures me even when I’m unconscious. Does the Guv ever think without using his fist?” Sam retorted, swinging his legs off the sofa and holding his head in his hands.
“Oi! I ‘eard that.” Gene stormed into the room and forced a cup of coffee under Sam’s nose. “Take it. I’ve even given ya one of me Garibaldi’s, but don’t tell them lot. Don’t want ‘em thinkin' I’ve gone all Dorothy on ya now, do we?”
A Garibaldi? Sam could sense that the Guv was slightly worried about him. Those biscuits weren’t to be touched ‘without the say so of DCI Gene Hunt,’ the message was tattooed on the tin. For him to offer one of these to Sam, or in his words, ‘the picky pain in the arse’ showed a new side of Gene Hunt, one which Sam felt sure he would not see again for a long time. Usually, something as unique as this moment would have filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy had it not been for the fact his head felt as though it was splitting in two.
“Doc wants you to go for some blood tests tomorrow mornin'. Don’t think you’re ‘avin the day off mind.” Sam took the cup of coffee, but his eyes were still screwed up as he tried to reduce the pain in his head. “What you holdin’ your ‘ead for? What’s wrong w'ya?” Gene asked, sounding vaguely concerned, but hiding it well through the power in his voice.
“It might be the blow to the head I managed to get while I was out of it!” Sam snapped back at him, still holding his head in his one free hand.
“Don’t be such a nonce! It wasn’t that 'ard. Did the job, din'it? You’re awake, aren’t ya?” Gene knew that if Sam was in pain, he’d also be more of a pain in the arse, the last thing Sam needed at this moment was another a battering from his DCI, so Gene decided to leave him to it.