I know I've been absent for a while. I've been...eh...I've been a little meh about internet stuff. I do read eveyone's posts though and some of you, I think, have recieved fly-by-night style posts
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Sam/Gene, "Clean"taurenovaOctober 11 2007, 00:18:34 UTC
Here goes -
It is a long day followed by a longer night. A finite time line to find two little girls, stolen away from their families, and Sam hates how heavily this reminds him of then. He doesn't often allow himself to remember the fact that none of this is truly real. He much prefers to accept that this is the reality and then was the falsity. But when he runs across a case, or rather a case runs across him, that he knows, that he has seen before - it is impossible to avoid the rising fear of remembrance.
Gene is a tightly coiled spring of fury and rage all day. Sam dreads to think what will happen when they find the man responsible. And the thought of what might happen if the girls are dead when they find them scares him. He does his best to control his DCI, to placate him with empty words. But Gene doesn't buy it and Sam doesn't blame him.
It is at the end of the long night that they find the kidnapper. A bus driver, from the local school route, with a sickly penchant for little blonde girls in knee socks. They find him because a neighbour calls in about a scream.
One of the girls is dead. Chris is violently sick when he sees her and Sam barely manages to stop himself from gagging. The blood soaks the carpet, so much blood from such a tiny body. Sam runs through the house, following the sounds of Gene's pursuit, and catches up as Gene catches the bus driver.
The bus driver hits the ground with a shout and Gene's fist hits the bus driver with the loud slap of flesh on flesh. Gene drives his fist down again and again; hitting the face, the ribs, the stomach. Over and over again until the bus driver does nothing but groan weakly. Sam wants to stop Gene, he knows he should, but he sees the little girl's torn body in his mind and can't seem to move.
Gene stops at last, knowing that killing this man is not enough, and surges upright, eyes flashing. He stares at Sam, breath heaving from his chest, blood from the bus driver splattered across his shirt. He doesn't smile. This is not a case that calls for smiles. Not a word is said.
Later, in his flat, Sam pours two tumblers of whiskey and waits for Gene to come out of his bathroom. He waits for ten minutes before he accepts that something is wrong. He pushes the door open to find Gene scrubbing frantically at his hands with the soap, eyes wild in the harsh light. He looks at Sam in the broken mirror and Sam thinks for a moment that he sees a broken Gene staring at him.
Sam reaches out and takes Gene's hands between his, the skin is rough and red, abused by the harsh soap. Gene stares at him wordlessly, the bathroom filled by his frantic breath, and defies him to say a word. Sam says nothing and lifts Gene's hands to his mouth, kissing each knuckle gently, caressing the abused skin with his tongue. Gene's sigh is loud.
“I can't -” he breathes and Sam barely hears him, he does not look up as Gene speaks again, “I don't feel clean”
Sam knows the feeling. Has felt it after horrific cases himself. But still he does not speak. He releases Gene's hands and reaches his own up to grip Gene by the neck. He pulls the taller man down to him and presses his lips against Gene's, probing with his tongue. He feels Gene's hands, damp from the washing, close about his waist. Gene opens his mouth to Sam and Sam tells him, the only way he can think of, that everything will be alright.
Re: Sam/Gene, "Clean"lozenger8October 11 2007, 06:30:27 UTC
I've said before how much I adore your writing, yes? I'm fairly sure I have, because every time I read something of yours I find myself nodding, or squealing, or thinking. This is brilliant. I love how you took one word and made it mean so much. This is dark and painful and it works brilliantly. Thank you!
It is a long day followed by a longer night. A finite time line to find two little girls, stolen away from their families, and Sam hates how heavily this reminds him of then. He doesn't often allow himself to remember the fact that none of this is truly real. He much prefers to accept that this is the reality and then was the falsity. But when he runs across a case, or rather a case runs across him, that he knows, that he has seen before - it is impossible to avoid the rising fear of remembrance.
Gene is a tightly coiled spring of fury and rage all day. Sam dreads to think what will happen when they find the man responsible. And the thought of what might happen if the girls are dead when they find them scares him. He does his best to control his DCI, to placate him with empty words. But Gene doesn't buy it and Sam doesn't blame him.
It is at the end of the long night that they find the kidnapper. A bus driver, from the local school route, with a sickly penchant for little blonde girls in knee socks. They find him because a neighbour calls in about a scream.
One of the girls is dead. Chris is violently sick when he sees her and Sam barely manages to stop himself from gagging. The blood soaks the carpet, so much blood from such a tiny body. Sam runs through the house, following the sounds of Gene's pursuit, and catches up as Gene catches the bus driver.
The bus driver hits the ground with a shout and Gene's fist hits the bus driver with the loud slap of flesh on flesh. Gene drives his fist down again and again; hitting the face, the ribs, the stomach. Over and over again until the bus driver does nothing but groan weakly. Sam wants to stop Gene, he knows he should, but he sees the little girl's torn body in his mind and can't seem to move.
Gene stops at last, knowing that killing this man is not enough, and surges upright, eyes flashing. He stares at Sam, breath heaving from his chest, blood from the bus driver splattered across his shirt. He doesn't smile. This is not a case that calls for smiles. Not a word is said.
Later, in his flat, Sam pours two tumblers of whiskey and waits for Gene to come out of his bathroom. He waits for ten minutes before he accepts that something is wrong. He pushes the door open to find Gene scrubbing frantically at his hands with the soap, eyes wild in the harsh light. He looks at Sam in the broken mirror and Sam thinks for a moment that he sees a broken Gene staring at him.
Sam reaches out and takes Gene's hands between his, the skin is rough and red, abused by the harsh soap. Gene stares at him wordlessly, the bathroom filled by his frantic breath, and defies him to say a word. Sam says nothing and lifts Gene's hands to his mouth, kissing each knuckle gently, caressing the abused skin with his tongue. Gene's sigh is loud.
“I can't -” he breathes and Sam barely hears him, he does not look up as Gene speaks again, “I don't feel clean”
Sam knows the feeling. Has felt it after horrific cases himself. But still he does not speak. He releases Gene's hands and reaches his own up to grip Gene by the neck. He pulls the taller man down to him and presses his lips against Gene's, probing with his tongue. He feels Gene's hands, damp from the washing, close about his waist. Gene opens his mouth to Sam and Sam tells him, the only way he can think of, that everything will be alright.
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It was weird - the first image that came into my head was Gene trying to wash blood from his hands. The rest came from there.
It was sort of nice to step into Sam's head for a while. I seem to do a lot of my thinking from Gene's point of view these days.
I totally love the flattery, you know it. :D
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