Wakey! Wakey! Part Two
Okay - I've written part two. You can find Part One here - probably best you read it first. In summary however, Sam has woken up to find that messing with the time-space continuum is not a good idea. Gene is now his step Dad, Chris and Annie are now married, and he and his Uncle Ray, are best mates. Could it get any worse for poor old Sam? I think it's about to!
Big thanks to v23474 for being it's beta!
Title: Wakey! Wakey! Part Two
Summary: Sam's new life in 2006 continues to cause him more angst!
Rating: PG - couple of mildish swear words.
Setting: After Episode Eight, but no spoilers.
Disclaimer: Life on Mars belongs to the BBC and Kudos.
“Quit looking so bloody mardy will yer!” said Ray as he plonked half a pint of bitter in front of Sam. “Drink this, and cheer up for God’s sake!”
It was the first time Sam had been to the pub, since being let out of hospital and his Uncle Ray had only been too eager to accompany him.
“What are you drinking?” asked Sam, eying up the contents of Ray’s glass.
“Orange juice and lemonade. I’m driving remember,” Things really had changed! “Got to get you to the Skeltons in one piece. Bet your Auntie Annie will be glad to see you.”
Sam had been awake for a few weeks now. He’d seen Ray, his Mum, and Gene quite a bit, but Chris and Annie seemed to be keeping their distance, and in a way he was glad of that. It was all just too much to take in. Still, they’d asked him and Ray round for Sunday dinner and at Ray’s suggestion, they ended up in the pub beforehand.
“This pub looks different from the last time I was in here.” said Sam. He took a gulp of his half pint, as he looked round the interior of the Trafford Arms.
“What? You probably don’t remember, but we used to come in here a fair bit. They had a refit about five years ago. Got rid of the old burgundy carpet. They do food in here now and all. Wait till you’re able to drink properly again, Sam, when you’re off the medication. Then we’ll have a proper night out, just like the old days.”
The very thought of him and Ray, out drinking together left Sam with a rather queasy feeling in his stomach. He’d tried to warm to Ray, really tried, but he was finding it very difficult, even more so as he was getting stronger every day. He found not only his body recovering, but his mind too. It was getting difficult to just put up with things, or let things pass.
“You alright Sam?” his displeasure must have show.
“Yeah fine, Ray. Umm Ray?” he asked as he leaned in a bit closer to him. “Why is that bloke behind the bar staring at me?”
Ray looked up to see what Sam meant. Standing behind the bar was heavy set man, in his late forties. He was looking at Sam as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Probably because of that get-up you’re wearing,” replied Ray. “Since when have you worn cord flares?”
“I kind of like them.” Sam didn’t want to admit that he’d also gone and bought himself a black leather jacket as well.
“Well they make you look like…” Ray paused. “They make you look like one of them bloody metrosexuals the papers are always on about. It in’t right Sam. It will be better when your hair grows back and all. They cut it too short in the hospital.”
Perhaps the new Sam was making Ray feel a bit uneasy. Ray waved at the man behind the bar, who then turned away, and got back on with serving a customer.
“You know him?”
“Sure I do. It’s only Ryan, the landlord! Guess you don’t remember him.”
“Ryan?” asked Sam.
“Yeah, Ryan Clay.”
“That’s Ryan Clay!” exclaimed Sam. “The last time I saw him, he was…” Sam stopped himself.
“Was what?” asked Ray, taking a sip of his drink.
“Well err, he’s filled out a bit.”
“Any road, how’s the guitar playing going?”
“Oh that. Not too well.”
Sam had tired to play the damn thing, but it just frustrated him. His hands seemed to contort well enough to the instrument, and it felt so very familiar, but there was nothing in his mind that knew how to play it. He guessed he’d just have to find another way of making a living.
“Suspect it will come back to you soon enough!” said Ray. “The accident and you losing your memory and all that. Sup up,” Ray looked at his watch. “It’s time we were off.”
They got in to Ray’s car, a light blue E-Reg Cavalier. It had one of those pine scented trees hanging from the mirror and the whole car stank of it. There was rubbish all over the dashboard. Sam however, was quite relieved to not see a pair of knickers curled up on the back seat.
“This car is a bloody shit heap!” he said without thinking.
“You’ve never complained before, Sam,” said a rather disgruntled Ray, as he started up the engine.
“So Chris must have retired then?” asked Sam.
“Yep, a few years ago now, he took early retirement. I never made it past a DS, but he became a DI.”
“Good on him,” said Sam “I always knew he’d make something of himself!”
“Did you? I thought you and him, well, you never really had much time for him,” said Ray, changing to gear of the car with a loud clunk, “You used to call him a bit of a div. You liked his missus though.”
“So I’ve been told,” he answered, in a subdued voice.
“Look, I might as well tell you Sam, it’s sort of a bit of a joke between your step Dad and me, that well, a lot of your ex-girlfriends kind of looked like younger versions of your Auntie Annie.”
Sam winced. In a short while he’d have to face Annie, and he had no idea how he should act. This new 2006 was getting very awkward.
“Oh, and when we get there, start smiling a bit more, for Chris and Annie’s sake. Show them you’re getting back to your old self.”
My old self, thought Sam. There now appeared to be three old selves. The one he used to be in the other 2006, the one he was in 1973, and now this new one in the new 2006. So, which one was he? It was all mighty confusing.
They pulled up outside a well kept semi-detached house. Sam was quite glad to get out of the car, and away from the pungent stench of the air freshener. Ray rang the doorbell and Chris answered the door. Sam still couldn’t get over the fact that Chris was now a good twenty years older than him. It just didn’t seem right.
“Come in, come in,” he said warmly, ushering them into the hallway.
Sam noticed a few photos on the wall, and lent in to have a look.
“That’s you look,” said Chris, pointing to one of the photos. “That’s at me and your Auntie Annie’s wedding in 1979. See look, we stood you next to me and her in the photo, ‘cos you didn’t want to stand next to your step Dad.”
True enough, Sam was standing at the other side of the group from Gene and his Mum. Gene had his arm round Ruth, and they both looked very happy. They would have only been married for about a year themselves when the photo was taken. Annie however looked beautiful, no, she looked more than beautiful, she looked stunning, in her wedding dress, and he’d been there too. There were things that happened in his new life, things that made him who he was, that he would never know about, or never remember.
His eyes moved to another photo.
“Wait a minute!” he said with a mixture of surprise and delight. “Isn’t that Nelson?”
He took the photo off the wall to get a better look. Wherever it was taken, it looked warm and sunny. Nelson, with his big friendly grin, was standing next to Chris, who had some sort of straw hat on and a brightly coloured cocktail in his hand.
“You remember Nelson then?” asked Ray.
“Where is he?” Sam hadn’t heard any talk of Nelson in all the time he’d been awake.
“He’s off in Spain, the Costa del Sol,” said Chris. “He’s had a bar out there since the eighties. That were taken last year when we went to visit him. We got a really good deal. Had to fly from Heathrow like, but were cheaper.”
“I guess you don’t remember when you and me went over there for your eighteenth, do you Sam?” asked Ray. “That was some week we had!”
“My eighteenth?”
“Yeah. There was this one night, we got totally bladdered and picked up those two dodgy birds from Rotherham,” Sam was wincing again. “That was the night you got your tattoo!”
Yes, his tattoo. He’d found the offending mark on the top of his right arm, two days after he’d woken up. Up till now, he’d been too embarrassed to ask anyone about it.
“Your Mum when you showed her,” carried on Ray. “Her face was a picture. Gene wasn’t too happy either, do you remember Chris? The two of you right,” he said turning to Sam. “Had this big blazing row, a bit of a punch up over upsetting your Mum. That was the first time and only time you’d ever had a punch up with him I think. He must have figured you were old enough to handle yourself by then.”
“Hey,” said Chris. “Why are we still standing in the hallway? Sam, why don’t you go to the kitchen, just down the end of the hall, Annie’s in there, she’ll be glad to see you.”
Sam made his way down the hall to the kitchen door. It was only a few steps, but it seemed much further. He could feel his heart beating, as if it were in his mouth, as he pushed open the kitchen door.
Annie was at the sink, washing up, her back to him, as he edged in and closed the door. He didn’t want to Ray or Chris to hear any of this.
“Annie.”
“Sam,” she said without turning round. He could see from the back that her dark hair was now streaked with grey, and he watched as she moved the dishes from the sink to the draining board.
“I’m back Annie.”
“I know,” she said. “We’re all very happy that you’ve woken up.”
“No, I mean I’m back. Me, Sam Tyler, DI Sam Tyler.”
“You what?” she said, as she turned around, dropping the sponge that was in her hand to the floor in shock. “My God no, this is some kind of a joke.”
She might have been older, but she was still pretty. The years had been good to her.
“No, this is a joke. Ray’s dressed you up as some kind of a joke and told you come in here and play a trick on me. How could you do that Sam?”
She seemed out of breath as she spoke, like her heart was racing.
“It’s not a joke. It really is me Annie. Look at me, look, you can tell it’s me. Ask me something! Go on ask me something, something only I would know.”
He was falling over his words now - they were coming out so fast.
“Mmm…” he said. “I know, how about when we were on the roof, and I was going to jump, but you talked me down. Do you remember that? Do you remember what you said to me?”
“Give me your hand.”
“Yes, that’s it!” She remembered, he though. Finally someone here remembers me. For the first time in weeks, he felt it was going to be alright.
“No, give me your hand, your left hand.”
Sam looked quizzically at her for a moment and then extended his hand as she asked. She took it and turned it to the side.
“There,” she said pointing to a faint white scar running down the base of his thumb. “See that scar. You got that when you fell off your bike when you were eleven years old, in our back garden. You and Ray are getting far too old to be playing tricks like this. About time you grew up, or grew your hair back, or something.”
She let go of his hand.
“But!”
“Now, the roast is nearly ready. Would you like a cup of tea first? Milk, one sugar isn’t it? Go and sit yourself down in the front room and I’ll bring it to you.”
“But!”
“No buts, Sam Tyler. Go, now!”
She shooed him out the kitchen before he could protest. He figured he’d just have to try again some other time with her. He made his way to the front room, passing the open door to the dining room as he did. Ray and Chris were in there, having a conversation in hushed tones.
“You know the Guv don’t like us speaking about you-know-who while Sam’s about,” said Chris.
“Bugger that, the Guv’s not here now!” replied Ray.
Sam positioned himself near the doorway, angling himself so he wouldn’t be seen, so he could eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.
“I see what you mean though,” said Chris. “He looks so much like him, it’s spooky.”
“Yeah, with his hair cut the way it is, and now that he’s started to even dress like he did. It’s not right. You know, he’s even started to pull those faces, like the other Sam Tyler used to do. You know, all them angst ridden ones. Where’s the happy go lucky bloke who was always smiling gone?”
“Ray, it will just be the accident. The poor lad will still be a bit confused, just give him time.”
“It’s alright for you Chris. If he starts reminding you of the other one, you’ll be okay. You got on with him. Me on the other hand, I’m finding it hard to be around him. I spent years trying to teach him stuff, you know that. It’s not his fault he has the same name and looks like the other one - even more now. Where’s my Sam Tyler gone?”
His Sam Tyler!, thought Sam, feeling the rage bubbling up inside him. His Sam Tyler!, indeed. Bloody Ray! He wouldn’t put it past him to have taken an interest in him as a lad, because he shared a name and looked so much like his nemesis. He must have so enjoyed leading the younger Sam Tyler astray. Well this ends here and now. If it weren’t for the fact that he was a guest in Annie and Chris’s house, he would walk right into the dining room and punch Ray hard, in the stomach. However unfair the age difference was!
He took a deep breath and steadied himself. This would have to wait, he would have to act as if everything was normal till later, and then Ray would get what was coming to him. He crept past the dining room doorway, leaving them to their conversation, and headed to the front room. It was small, but cosy, and tastefully decorated.
However, that was not what first caught his eye when he entered the room, for there, sitting on the settee watching the telly was Test Card Girl. Oh she wasn’t dressed like Test Card Girl, she had on jeans, trainers and a tee-shirt, but as she turned to face him, there was no denying who she was.
“Hello Sam,” she said.
“W…what are you doing here?”
He was shaking. This couldn’t be real.
“I’m always here, Sam.”
“W…what?” he paused, more out of shock than anything. “Wait a minute, how come you have a Mancunian accent?”
Suddenly Annie was there at the door.
“I have your tea for you Sam,” she handed him the mug. “Alice,” she said in a warm voice to Test Card Girl.
“Grandma,” she replied, running up to Annie, and giving her a big hug.
Sam, however just stood there, as the mug slipped in his hand, and the tea slowly dribbled on to the carpet.
THE END
Big thanks to v23474 for being it's beta!
Title: Wakey! Wakey! Part Two
Summary: Sam's new life in 2006 continues to cause him more angst!
Rating: PG - couple of mildish swear words.
Setting: After Episode Eight, but no spoilers.
Disclaimer: Life on Mars belongs to the BBC and Kudos.
“Quit looking so bloody mardy will yer!” said Ray as he plonked half a pint of bitter in front of Sam. “Drink this, and cheer up for God’s sake!”
It was the first time Sam had been to the pub, since being let out of hospital and his Uncle Ray had only been too eager to accompany him.
“What are you drinking?” asked Sam, eying up the contents of Ray’s glass.
“Orange juice and lemonade. I’m driving remember,” Things really had changed! “Got to get you to the Skeltons in one piece. Bet your Auntie Annie will be glad to see you.”
Sam had been awake for a few weeks now. He’d seen Ray, his Mum, and Gene quite a bit, but Chris and Annie seemed to be keeping their distance, and in a way he was glad of that. It was all just too much to take in. Still, they’d asked him and Ray round for Sunday dinner and at Ray’s suggestion, they ended up in the pub beforehand.
“This pub looks different from the last time I was in here.” said Sam. He took a gulp of his half pint, as he looked round the interior of the Trafford Arms.
“What? You probably don’t remember, but we used to come in here a fair bit. They had a refit about five years ago. Got rid of the old burgundy carpet. They do food in here now and all. Wait till you’re able to drink properly again, Sam, when you’re off the medication. Then we’ll have a proper night out, just like the old days.”
The very thought of him and Ray, out drinking together left Sam with a rather queasy feeling in his stomach. He’d tried to warm to Ray, really tried, but he was finding it very difficult, even more so as he was getting stronger every day. He found not only his body recovering, but his mind too. It was getting difficult to just put up with things, or let things pass.
“You alright Sam?” his displeasure must have show.
“Yeah fine, Ray. Umm Ray?” he asked as he leaned in a bit closer to him. “Why is that bloke behind the bar staring at me?”
Ray looked up to see what Sam meant. Standing behind the bar was heavy set man, in his late forties. He was looking at Sam as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Probably because of that get-up you’re wearing,” replied Ray. “Since when have you worn cord flares?”
“I kind of like them.” Sam didn’t want to admit that he’d also gone and bought himself a black leather jacket as well.
“Well they make you look like…” Ray paused. “They make you look like one of them bloody metrosexuals the papers are always on about. It in’t right Sam. It will be better when your hair grows back and all. They cut it too short in the hospital.”
Perhaps the new Sam was making Ray feel a bit uneasy. Ray waved at the man behind the bar, who then turned away, and got back on with serving a customer.
“You know him?”
“Sure I do. It’s only Ryan, the landlord! Guess you don’t remember him.”
“Ryan?” asked Sam.
“Yeah, Ryan Clay.”
“That’s Ryan Clay!” exclaimed Sam. “The last time I saw him, he was…” Sam stopped himself.
“Was what?” asked Ray, taking a sip of his drink.
“Well err, he’s filled out a bit.”
“Any road, how’s the guitar playing going?”
“Oh that. Not too well.”
Sam had tired to play the damn thing, but it just frustrated him. His hands seemed to contort well enough to the instrument, and it felt so very familiar, but there was nothing in his mind that knew how to play it. He guessed he’d just have to find another way of making a living.
“Suspect it will come back to you soon enough!” said Ray. “The accident and you losing your memory and all that. Sup up,” Ray looked at his watch. “It’s time we were off.”
They got in to Ray’s car, a light blue E-Reg Cavalier. It had one of those pine scented trees hanging from the mirror and the whole car stank of it. There was rubbish all over the dashboard. Sam however, was quite relieved to not see a pair of knickers curled up on the back seat.
“This car is a bloody shit heap!” he said without thinking.
“You’ve never complained before, Sam,” said a rather disgruntled Ray, as he started up the engine.
“So Chris must have retired then?” asked Sam.
“Yep, a few years ago now, he took early retirement. I never made it past a DS, but he became a DI.”
“Good on him,” said Sam “I always knew he’d make something of himself!”
“Did you? I thought you and him, well, you never really had much time for him,” said Ray, changing to gear of the car with a loud clunk, “You used to call him a bit of a div. You liked his missus though.”
“So I’ve been told,” he answered, in a subdued voice.
“Look, I might as well tell you Sam, it’s sort of a bit of a joke between your step Dad and me, that well, a lot of your ex-girlfriends kind of looked like younger versions of your Auntie Annie.”
Sam winced. In a short while he’d have to face Annie, and he had no idea how he should act. This new 2006 was getting very awkward.
“Oh, and when we get there, start smiling a bit more, for Chris and Annie’s sake. Show them you’re getting back to your old self.”
My old self, thought Sam. There now appeared to be three old selves. The one he used to be in the other 2006, the one he was in 1973, and now this new one in the new 2006. So, which one was he? It was all mighty confusing.
They pulled up outside a well kept semi-detached house. Sam was quite glad to get out of the car, and away from the pungent stench of the air freshener. Ray rang the doorbell and Chris answered the door. Sam still couldn’t get over the fact that Chris was now a good twenty years older than him. It just didn’t seem right.
“Come in, come in,” he said warmly, ushering them into the hallway.
Sam noticed a few photos on the wall, and lent in to have a look.
“That’s you look,” said Chris, pointing to one of the photos. “That’s at me and your Auntie Annie’s wedding in 1979. See look, we stood you next to me and her in the photo, ‘cos you didn’t want to stand next to your step Dad.”
True enough, Sam was standing at the other side of the group from Gene and his Mum. Gene had his arm round Ruth, and they both looked very happy. They would have only been married for about a year themselves when the photo was taken. Annie however looked beautiful, no, she looked more than beautiful, she looked stunning, in her wedding dress, and he’d been there too. There were things that happened in his new life, things that made him who he was, that he would never know about, or never remember.
His eyes moved to another photo.
“Wait a minute!” he said with a mixture of surprise and delight. “Isn’t that Nelson?”
He took the photo off the wall to get a better look. Wherever it was taken, it looked warm and sunny. Nelson, with his big friendly grin, was standing next to Chris, who had some sort of straw hat on and a brightly coloured cocktail in his hand.
“You remember Nelson then?” asked Ray.
“Where is he?” Sam hadn’t heard any talk of Nelson in all the time he’d been awake.
“He’s off in Spain, the Costa del Sol,” said Chris. “He’s had a bar out there since the eighties. That were taken last year when we went to visit him. We got a really good deal. Had to fly from Heathrow like, but were cheaper.”
“I guess you don’t remember when you and me went over there for your eighteenth, do you Sam?” asked Ray. “That was some week we had!”
“My eighteenth?”
“Yeah. There was this one night, we got totally bladdered and picked up those two dodgy birds from Rotherham,” Sam was wincing again. “That was the night you got your tattoo!”
Yes, his tattoo. He’d found the offending mark on the top of his right arm, two days after he’d woken up. Up till now, he’d been too embarrassed to ask anyone about it.
“Your Mum when you showed her,” carried on Ray. “Her face was a picture. Gene wasn’t too happy either, do you remember Chris? The two of you right,” he said turning to Sam. “Had this big blazing row, a bit of a punch up over upsetting your Mum. That was the first time and only time you’d ever had a punch up with him I think. He must have figured you were old enough to handle yourself by then.”
“Hey,” said Chris. “Why are we still standing in the hallway? Sam, why don’t you go to the kitchen, just down the end of the hall, Annie’s in there, she’ll be glad to see you.”
Sam made his way down the hall to the kitchen door. It was only a few steps, but it seemed much further. He could feel his heart beating, as if it were in his mouth, as he pushed open the kitchen door.
Annie was at the sink, washing up, her back to him, as he edged in and closed the door. He didn’t want to Ray or Chris to hear any of this.
“Annie.”
“Sam,” she said without turning round. He could see from the back that her dark hair was now streaked with grey, and he watched as she moved the dishes from the sink to the draining board.
“I’m back Annie.”
“I know,” she said. “We’re all very happy that you’ve woken up.”
“No, I mean I’m back. Me, Sam Tyler, DI Sam Tyler.”
“You what?” she said, as she turned around, dropping the sponge that was in her hand to the floor in shock. “My God no, this is some kind of a joke.”
She might have been older, but she was still pretty. The years had been good to her.
“No, this is a joke. Ray’s dressed you up as some kind of a joke and told you come in here and play a trick on me. How could you do that Sam?”
She seemed out of breath as she spoke, like her heart was racing.
“It’s not a joke. It really is me Annie. Look at me, look, you can tell it’s me. Ask me something! Go on ask me something, something only I would know.”
He was falling over his words now - they were coming out so fast.
“Mmm…” he said. “I know, how about when we were on the roof, and I was going to jump, but you talked me down. Do you remember that? Do you remember what you said to me?”
“Give me your hand.”
“Yes, that’s it!” She remembered, he though. Finally someone here remembers me. For the first time in weeks, he felt it was going to be alright.
“No, give me your hand, your left hand.”
Sam looked quizzically at her for a moment and then extended his hand as she asked. She took it and turned it to the side.
“There,” she said pointing to a faint white scar running down the base of his thumb. “See that scar. You got that when you fell off your bike when you were eleven years old, in our back garden. You and Ray are getting far too old to be playing tricks like this. About time you grew up, or grew your hair back, or something.”
She let go of his hand.
“But!”
“Now, the roast is nearly ready. Would you like a cup of tea first? Milk, one sugar isn’t it? Go and sit yourself down in the front room and I’ll bring it to you.”
“But!”
“No buts, Sam Tyler. Go, now!”
She shooed him out the kitchen before he could protest. He figured he’d just have to try again some other time with her. He made his way to the front room, passing the open door to the dining room as he did. Ray and Chris were in there, having a conversation in hushed tones.
“You know the Guv don’t like us speaking about you-know-who while Sam’s about,” said Chris.
“Bugger that, the Guv’s not here now!” replied Ray.
Sam positioned himself near the doorway, angling himself so he wouldn’t be seen, so he could eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation.
“I see what you mean though,” said Chris. “He looks so much like him, it’s spooky.”
“Yeah, with his hair cut the way it is, and now that he’s started to even dress like he did. It’s not right. You know, he’s even started to pull those faces, like the other Sam Tyler used to do. You know, all them angst ridden ones. Where’s the happy go lucky bloke who was always smiling gone?”
“Ray, it will just be the accident. The poor lad will still be a bit confused, just give him time.”
“It’s alright for you Chris. If he starts reminding you of the other one, you’ll be okay. You got on with him. Me on the other hand, I’m finding it hard to be around him. I spent years trying to teach him stuff, you know that. It’s not his fault he has the same name and looks like the other one - even more now. Where’s my Sam Tyler gone?”
His Sam Tyler!, thought Sam, feeling the rage bubbling up inside him. His Sam Tyler!, indeed. Bloody Ray! He wouldn’t put it past him to have taken an interest in him as a lad, because he shared a name and looked so much like his nemesis. He must have so enjoyed leading the younger Sam Tyler astray. Well this ends here and now. If it weren’t for the fact that he was a guest in Annie and Chris’s house, he would walk right into the dining room and punch Ray hard, in the stomach. However unfair the age difference was!
He took a deep breath and steadied himself. This would have to wait, he would have to act as if everything was normal till later, and then Ray would get what was coming to him. He crept past the dining room doorway, leaving them to their conversation, and headed to the front room. It was small, but cosy, and tastefully decorated.
However, that was not what first caught his eye when he entered the room, for there, sitting on the settee watching the telly was Test Card Girl. Oh she wasn’t dressed like Test Card Girl, she had on jeans, trainers and a tee-shirt, but as she turned to face him, there was no denying who she was.
“Hello Sam,” she said.
“W…what are you doing here?”
He was shaking. This couldn’t be real.
“I’m always here, Sam.”
“W…what?” he paused, more out of shock than anything. “Wait a minute, how come you have a Mancunian accent?”
Suddenly Annie was there at the door.
“I have your tea for you Sam,” she handed him the mug. “Alice,” she said in a warm voice to Test Card Girl.
“Grandma,” she replied, running up to Annie, and giving her a big hug.
Sam, however just stood there, as the mug slipped in his hand, and the tea slowly dribbled on to the carpet.
THE END