(Untitled)

[how_itgoes]

Sam

This is what...

Stay. Here. With me.

This is what it must be like. It's been so long since he's felt like this, but after everything that's happened in the past. With Martha and the Master, with Annie leaving (where has she gone, what does this mean, why does the only good part about Manchester have to vanish while Gene stays!), with Alex

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[im_the_sheriff]

"Wot's wrong with you then?" Gene asked gruffly, stepping out of the kitchen and eying his DI with almost concerned curiosity. "Not high again, are you? At least you've still got your bloody clothes on this time..."

Except Gene wasn't as thick as one might assume, and after a moment he caught on to what was happening.

"Oh no you don't, you bastard," he muttered, "Tell me what it is, Tyler. Drugs? Heart attack? Come on, you dolt, tell me what's happening!" he shouted, as if yelling might help.

He didn't have medical training, he'd never bothered, but if the other man could give him a clue... Well, maybe he could fill in the blanks.

[how_itgoes]

Sam barely manages to lift his head from where he's hunched over against the wall and staring wearily at Gene because he can't pull breaths and if he's dying, then it's all a loss anyway. He's not going home, he's not going to stay there. "No drugs," he bites out, a wheeze. "Can't breathe, Guv."

If he had another one in him, he might've spat out 'not a dolt, you brute'.

[im_the_sheriff]

"Stop talking then, I'm not giving you mouth to mouth if you pass out," Gene huffed, which was a relief since he didn't really know how to do it.

Under the panic and the insults though, there was genuine worry, and Gene was more gentle than usual as he slipped an arm under one of Tyler's and pulled the other man out of the hall and into the rec room. Guiding him to the sofa, he looked like he might say something more before he changed his mind, leaving him and heading off to the clinic.

He was moving at a fairly impressive clip seeing as how he wasn't running.

It was unclear what happened after that. Whether he figured it all out himself or if maybe he stopped to ask someone. What mattered was he returned with the shot.

He didn't use it though, not yet. He just sort of stood there... holding it and looking unsure.

[how_itgoes]

Sam's just sitting there and the sitting does help, he'll admit that much, but out of nowhere he can hear the steady heart monitor of somewhere near by and he stares at Gene, then at what he's got in his hands. "What..." he gets out, blinking rapidly, "the bloody hell...?"

[im_the_sheriff]

"I'm not sure how this works," Gene confessed. "But I reckon, I just jab it in, and... presto."

Not quite that simple, but the Guv was making an effort at least. Still his hesitation was visible as he knelt beside Tyler and tried to figure out where exactly to stick the damn thing.

"If you have any suggestions to offer up, now would be the time, Tyler. Either that or last words."

[how_itgoes]

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Sam swears and can barely stay vertical, but he can pry the needle out of Gene's hands and he doesn't even know what it is, but if he's dying, does it really matter? He pries the top off and jabs it into his thigh, keeling over on the couch when it's in and his fingers are jittering from the adrenaline, but he can feel some of his oxygen coming back to him.

Eventually, he lets the needle fall from his hands. "What was that?"

[im_the_sheriff]

"One of those shots they give people who are allergic to nuts. I've seen them do it. I figured if it wasn't a heart attack and it wasn't an overdose..."

It had been a bit of a long shot, actually, but for once Gene's limited medical knowledge had been a good thing. Only knowing a handful of ailments meant the Guv had fewer to choose from. It had been easy to pick one out.

Though, of course, had Sam been suffering from something not on his short list...

Luck. Sometimes it was all about luck.

[how_itgoes]

Sam is just trying to get his breath back and he stares up at him, trying to get out a mumble of thanks, but right now, he has to catch his breath and accept the fact that he's not dying. He's just...well, allergic to something or other. "Thanks, Guv," he mutters out, head back against the couch. "Lucky you found me."

[im_the_sheriff]

Gene just grunted, pulling himself up to sit on the couch beside his partner.

Frankly, he was just glad the bastard hadn't gone and died on him again. Gene wasn't sure he could have handled that. He'd barely handled it the first time.

"Should get you in the clinic," he muttered, though he didn't get up just yet. Instead he simply looked over at the other man to make sure he wasn't going to stop breathing again.

[how_itgoes]

Sam doesn't dare to move either, staring at a spot on the ceiling like it'll somehow change or move if he looks long enough and he idly begins to rub his thumb about the jab-mark, like that'll assuage the pain somehow. "Annie is gone," Sam mumbles, apropos of nothing, but if they're just lying about and talking, he ought to share, he figures.

[im_the_sheriff]

It was the sort of thing he felt he should have known. The sort of thing he should have noticed. And yet he hadn't. He'd been so hung up on Drake and the fact that Sam wasn't dead, that Annie had been the last thing on his mind.

For a moment he was silent, not sure what to say. He supposed 'sorry' would have been the best thing to go with, but in the end he simply patted Tyler's shoulder, letting the gesture say everything he didn't have it in him to say out loud.

[how_itgoes]

Sam makes a quiet noise of acknowledgement because this isn't the sort of conversation he's ever wanted to have with Gene. They can talk about cases or procedure or...occasionally Indian food, but this? No, it's not supposed to be this. "Guess I ought to be grateful for you and DI Drake, is the underlying message." He wants to say more, but an aching set of lungs restricts that.

[im_the_sheriff]

"There's no underlying message, it's all just depressing bollocks," Gene replied. "Come on, let's get you into the clinic."

Getting to his feet, he hauled Sam up as well, steadying his DI and leading the way.

[how_itgoes]

Sam stumbles slightly, still not used to breathing and he just tries to keep vertical without keeling over or worse -- vomiting. He feels weak yet and he's confused, so he's staring at Gene and wondering why they're going there? "No, let's just go back to the room," he protests tiredly. "Don't need a doctor."

[im_the_sheriff]

Gene looked unsure, but the fact that he knew Sam was making a stupid choice, he could respect the fact that his DI didn't want a doctor. After all, had their roles been reversed, Gene would have flat out refused to go to the clinic.

"Alright," he agreed. "Come on."

He was unusually quiet as he lead Sam to their room, the usual insults and violence nowhere to be seen.

[how_itgoes]

Sam's weary and a bit out of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the change in the demeanour and the general air Gene's throwing about. "A lot's happened since I first came to Manchester," he observes roughly, slowly following. "Hasn't it?" Besides Sam dying, he has to suspect.