Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (10/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (10/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1867 (this part); (13,756 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
A/N: And we're back! Please enjoy. (I did get everyone's notes on the sausage rolls. I'll be changing the price when I can get around to it.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
The countryside wasn’t as barren as Ray first believed it to be. It was quite charming, really. Calming. Or, maybe that was just the effect daylight had on the area. The first time Ray had been to the asylum, it had been an overcast day. The second time it was night and pouring rain.
Pulling into the visitor’s car park, he was surprised to see that it was actually quite full. Walking to the main entrance, he noticed patients in the familiar pajamas milling about with regular looking people - talking, smiling. Relatives, perhaps. Friends, maybe. Inside, a younger nurse was running the desk. She smiled and told Ray someone would be right with him.
When a muted scream echoed from somewhere in the building, Ray wondered if the pleasant appearance of the asylum was only a front - something used to put families at ease over leaving their loved ones in such a shit-hole.
Ray felt his suspicions were confirmed when as older nurse stomped over and informed him that Mr. Williams was having his treatment at the moment, but he’d be ready in a half-hour. Wanting to speak to Sam the moment he was finished, Ray flashed his badge and asked if he could pass the time in Williams’ room. The woman couldn’t care less it seemed, and led him upstairs.
It was a different room than the one Ray had seen last night. It had a normal wooden door, and the room itself seemed freshly painted - white, of course. The door was kept open as the nurse departed and Ray was left standing there awkwardly, hands in his pockets, as he twisted on the spot. He decided to spend his time observing the room.
It was very simple. There was a window, two beds, two chests of drawers, and two beside tables. It would seem Tyler had a roommate. One side of the room was decorated in a child’s drawings, signed “by Bethie and Mummy.” Books were stacked on the man’s table and by the side of the bed - Dickens, Shakespeare, Emerson. Most of it, Ray had never read. At least Tyler had a smart bloke to chat with. That had to make the poof happy.
Ray turned and stared at Sam’s side of the room. It was completely bare. The bed was neatly made, the pillow as fluffed as it could get. If Ray hadn’t known otherwise, he’d say the other bloke hadn’t a roommate at all. Not caring that he was curious, Ray opened the drawer of Sam’s bedside table. All that was there was a small clump of papers and photos, and one ratty magazine.
The only photograph was of a small boy wearing a bobby’s helmet over his head. Ray didn’t think Sam had a son. No one from Hyde ever mentioned it. Maybe it was a nephew. He continued to skim the pile. There were newspaper clippings from cases they’d worked, blank pages of note paper, and some articles on Man United. That was all.
No letters. No Get Well cards. Nothing from Hyde. Nothing from them, either. Ray dropped the items back in the drawer and slid it closed. He walked to the chest of drawers and casually rifled through the top drawer. Everything there was also white - the uniform trousers and shirts, white underpants, white socks.
Tyler had never worn white before, except for that girly tennis kit. But, that had been for an undercover job, to catch the Twillings. No, if the Boss ever wore a plain color, it was black, not white. Ray found it unsettling that he knew this. He pushed the drawer shut just as the orderly escorted Sam into the room.
Ray turned, ready to ask his questions, when he saw that Tyler wasn’t being walked in, he was being wheeled. Sam was sat in a wheelchair, his body slouching to one side, his eyes open but vacant - the complete opposite of the desperate man he’d seen last night.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Just had his treatment, is all,” the orderly said casually, maneuvering Sam to the side of his bed.
“What treatment? Drugs?”
“Electroshock,” the man shook his head. “This one ain’t normally so bad after, but the doc decided to increase the voltage today. Alright, Mr. Williams. Let’s get yeh to bed.”
The orderly hooked his arms under Sam’s and hoisted him onto the mattress. Sam sat there, blank, until he was laid down.
“I need to speak to him. It’s important,” Ray huffed.
“ ‘Fraid it’ll have to wait, mate. He’ll be out of it til tea time.”
The orderly wheeled the chair out of the room, leaving Ray with the still body. Ray had never been this nervous around a corpse. He leaned over the bed, waving a hand in front of the unblinking eyes.
“Tyler?” he snapped his fingers.
“Sam?” he shook him by the shoulder.
“...Williams?” he whispered. Nothing.
“I see our friend has had his therapy today,” said a calm, fatherly voice from behind. Ray spun to see the most normal man he’d ever come across, watching them with a solemn expression. Ray would have thought he was a doctor, had he not been wearing the loose, white clothes.
“They said they upped the voltage,” Ray told him.
“Ah. Because of his little incident yesterday, I suppose. What are we going to do with you, Sam?” he sighed, sitting on the other bed. “James Bresson,” he introduced himself.
“Ray Carling,” he shook his outstretched hand. He said nothing, but his expression must have been clear enough.
“I know. What’s a man like me doing in such a lovely place as this? Simple nervous breakdown. Stresses of life, you see. And death,” he added solemnly.
“Least you have family,” Ray nodded to the drawings.
“Ah,” he smiled sadly. “See, the correct statement would be - I used to have family. Car crash, seven months ago.”
“Er, sorry,” Ray winced.
“No, no. It’s alright. Why I’m here, after all. To learn to cope. But,” he clapped his hands on his knees and rose from his bed. “Your man here. Now, he is a strange case, entirely.”
“Tell me about it,” Ray huffed.
“I know something of his condition from gossip, you see. There’s not much else to do around here but talk.”
“And read,” Ray nodded to the books.
“Very true, Mr. Carling. I have offered them to Sam, but he refuses. Seems an intelligent lad. It’s a shame he’s...well...” James sighed. “You know, I don’t believe he’s had a visitor since he’s arrived,” he remarked somewhat suspiciously.
“I’m...I was one of his officers. We need help with a case, but I don’t think the berk’ll be of much use,” Ray picked up Sam’s arm and let it drop back on the bed.
“Oh, he’ll come round. Always does. Don’t you, Sam?” James pat him on the knee. Sam didn’t stir. “Higher voltage, you say?”
“What the big fellow said.”
“Hm. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid such therapy. Sam, here, they started him right away. I can’t say I’ve seen it making any improvements. The lad keeps withdrawing into himself. There’s so much anger there. Can’t believe they’ll be able to shock it all out. It must be difficult for you,” James turned his attention to Ray. “Losing a friend and colleague like this.”
“Well...”
“The mind is such a fragile thing, isn’t it. Fragile as a child’s body,” James shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be intruding. If Sam does not wake before you leave, I could tell him you stopped by. I am one of the few people here he’ll speak to in complete sentences.”
“Cheers, but it’s important. Think I’ll just wait it out.”
“Carry on, then. I shan’t disturb you any longer,” James smiled and strode out of the room. Ray looked down at Sam. His eyes were still glassy, his skin as white as the room. Ray couldn’t help but wonder, if the Guv had known about the electroshock, would he have gone along with the sectioning?
*
“Just buy me more time, Chris,” Ray begged over the phone.
“I’m trying! But Carter’s already asking questions.”
“Then make summat up. You’re still a copper, aren’t you? Lie!”
“He catches on real quick, like. He’ll know.”
“Fine,” Ray sighed. “Then don’t lie. Just don’t tell him the truth.”
“Uhm...”
“Tell him you don’t know where I went. That I told you I was working on the Hartford case.”
“Alright...”
“Good. I’ll see you back at the station.”
“Ray--”
He hung up the lobby pay phone before Chris could ask another question. As long as Chris didn’t tell Carter where he really was, that was all Ray needed from him. Now, all he needed from Tyler was for the twonk to come out of his stupor.
*
It was nearly four o’clock by the time Sam began to stir. His hand twitched and his eyes fluttered. A low, groan escaped his lips, but he didn’t try to move. Ray left his seat on Bresson’s bed and leaned over Tyler.
“Boss. Wake up,” he ordered. Sam groaned again. “I said up, Tyler! I’ve already wasted enough time sitting here.”
“Go...’way...sleep,” he mumbled.
“You’ve slept enough and I need some answers,” he growled and watched as Sam tried to focus his eyes.
“Who...you?” he asked hazily.
“It’s Ray. DS Carling. From the station?”
“D...S...Dog shit,” Sam sleepily smirked.
“You’re making it hard not to punch you, Boss.”
“Boss...not boss...inspector...nowt,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to move his limps.
“Look, don’t matter. I just need to ask you summat.”
“No one,” he whispered.
“Did you ever talk to Jackie Queen?”
“ ‘M...no one.”
“Sam, did you ever talk to Jackie Queen ‘bout the Guv? ‘Bout the affair?”
“Nothing...no one...”
“Did she tell you about Vera?”
“Nowhere.”
“Did you know Vera was cheating?”
“ ‘M...loser.”
“Tyler. Focus.”
“Loser...You’re a loser, Joni...cos you live in fear...” he snarled, still out of it. He’d started squirming on the mattress now, and Ray pinned him by the shoulders, trying to get his attention.
“Did you know Vera was cheating? Did you know with you?”
“Pointless. ‘S all pointless,” Sam wriggled weakly.
“Dammit, Tyler! Snap out of it,” he shook him.
“Pointless, I said...Not...worth it...She’s not worth it, Guv.”
Ray released Sam with a jolt.
“Let her go...Can. Divorce ‘s common...But what’s the point, Gene?”
Ray watched in disbelief as Sam shuddered and twitched, rehashing a conversation from months passed. At least, that’s what he hoped it was.
“Can’t...or won’t?...Cos ‘s not healthy...don’t blame me...I...I...I’m Sam. My name is Sam.”
“Tyler?”
This time, Sam looked right at him.
“Is it?” He asked, genuinely unsure. “I thought...but they said...Williams. Am I Williams?” he asked Ray.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Sam looked down. He didn’t sit up and Ray wasn’t sure if he could. “I don’t want to be Williams. If I am. He’s not nice.”
“No,” Ray shook his head. “No, he ain’t.”
Sam passed out soon after that. He’d be of no more use today. Ray had a feeling that if they waited much longer, he wouldn’t be of any use ever again.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1867 (this part); (13,756 in total, so far)
Rating: blue cortina
Warnings: none here
Summary: Post 2.08. When the Guv goes missing, CID is saddled with an inept "interim" DCI. To find Gene, and the truth, Ray must team up with a hated enemy.
A/N: And we're back! Please enjoy. (I did get everyone's notes on the sausage rolls. I'll be changing the price when I can get around to it.)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
The countryside wasn’t as barren as Ray first believed it to be. It was quite charming, really. Calming. Or, maybe that was just the effect daylight had on the area. The first time Ray had been to the asylum, it had been an overcast day. The second time it was night and pouring rain.
Pulling into the visitor’s car park, he was surprised to see that it was actually quite full. Walking to the main entrance, he noticed patients in the familiar pajamas milling about with regular looking people - talking, smiling. Relatives, perhaps. Friends, maybe. Inside, a younger nurse was running the desk. She smiled and told Ray someone would be right with him.
When a muted scream echoed from somewhere in the building, Ray wondered if the pleasant appearance of the asylum was only a front - something used to put families at ease over leaving their loved ones in such a shit-hole.
Ray felt his suspicions were confirmed when as older nurse stomped over and informed him that Mr. Williams was having his treatment at the moment, but he’d be ready in a half-hour. Wanting to speak to Sam the moment he was finished, Ray flashed his badge and asked if he could pass the time in Williams’ room. The woman couldn’t care less it seemed, and led him upstairs.
It was a different room than the one Ray had seen last night. It had a normal wooden door, and the room itself seemed freshly painted - white, of course. The door was kept open as the nurse departed and Ray was left standing there awkwardly, hands in his pockets, as he twisted on the spot. He decided to spend his time observing the room.
It was very simple. There was a window, two beds, two chests of drawers, and two beside tables. It would seem Tyler had a roommate. One side of the room was decorated in a child’s drawings, signed “by Bethie and Mummy.” Books were stacked on the man’s table and by the side of the bed - Dickens, Shakespeare, Emerson. Most of it, Ray had never read. At least Tyler had a smart bloke to chat with. That had to make the poof happy.
Ray turned and stared at Sam’s side of the room. It was completely bare. The bed was neatly made, the pillow as fluffed as it could get. If Ray hadn’t known otherwise, he’d say the other bloke hadn’t a roommate at all. Not caring that he was curious, Ray opened the drawer of Sam’s bedside table. All that was there was a small clump of papers and photos, and one ratty magazine.
The only photograph was of a small boy wearing a bobby’s helmet over his head. Ray didn’t think Sam had a son. No one from Hyde ever mentioned it. Maybe it was a nephew. He continued to skim the pile. There were newspaper clippings from cases they’d worked, blank pages of note paper, and some articles on Man United. That was all.
No letters. No Get Well cards. Nothing from Hyde. Nothing from them, either. Ray dropped the items back in the drawer and slid it closed. He walked to the chest of drawers and casually rifled through the top drawer. Everything there was also white - the uniform trousers and shirts, white underpants, white socks.
Tyler had never worn white before, except for that girly tennis kit. But, that had been for an undercover job, to catch the Twillings. No, if the Boss ever wore a plain color, it was black, not white. Ray found it unsettling that he knew this. He pushed the drawer shut just as the orderly escorted Sam into the room.
Ray turned, ready to ask his questions, when he saw that Tyler wasn’t being walked in, he was being wheeled. Sam was sat in a wheelchair, his body slouching to one side, his eyes open but vacant - the complete opposite of the desperate man he’d seen last night.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Just had his treatment, is all,” the orderly said casually, maneuvering Sam to the side of his bed.
“What treatment? Drugs?”
“Electroshock,” the man shook his head. “This one ain’t normally so bad after, but the doc decided to increase the voltage today. Alright, Mr. Williams. Let’s get yeh to bed.”
The orderly hooked his arms under Sam’s and hoisted him onto the mattress. Sam sat there, blank, until he was laid down.
“I need to speak to him. It’s important,” Ray huffed.
“ ‘Fraid it’ll have to wait, mate. He’ll be out of it til tea time.”
The orderly wheeled the chair out of the room, leaving Ray with the still body. Ray had never been this nervous around a corpse. He leaned over the bed, waving a hand in front of the unblinking eyes.
“Tyler?” he snapped his fingers.
“Sam?” he shook him by the shoulder.
“...Williams?” he whispered. Nothing.
“I see our friend has had his therapy today,” said a calm, fatherly voice from behind. Ray spun to see the most normal man he’d ever come across, watching them with a solemn expression. Ray would have thought he was a doctor, had he not been wearing the loose, white clothes.
“They said they upped the voltage,” Ray told him.
“Ah. Because of his little incident yesterday, I suppose. What are we going to do with you, Sam?” he sighed, sitting on the other bed. “James Bresson,” he introduced himself.
“Ray Carling,” he shook his outstretched hand. He said nothing, but his expression must have been clear enough.
“I know. What’s a man like me doing in such a lovely place as this? Simple nervous breakdown. Stresses of life, you see. And death,” he added solemnly.
“Least you have family,” Ray nodded to the drawings.
“Ah,” he smiled sadly. “See, the correct statement would be - I used to have family. Car crash, seven months ago.”
“Er, sorry,” Ray winced.
“No, no. It’s alright. Why I’m here, after all. To learn to cope. But,” he clapped his hands on his knees and rose from his bed. “Your man here. Now, he is a strange case, entirely.”
“Tell me about it,” Ray huffed.
“I know something of his condition from gossip, you see. There’s not much else to do around here but talk.”
“And read,” Ray nodded to the books.
“Very true, Mr. Carling. I have offered them to Sam, but he refuses. Seems an intelligent lad. It’s a shame he’s...well...” James sighed. “You know, I don’t believe he’s had a visitor since he’s arrived,” he remarked somewhat suspiciously.
“I’m...I was one of his officers. We need help with a case, but I don’t think the berk’ll be of much use,” Ray picked up Sam’s arm and let it drop back on the bed.
“Oh, he’ll come round. Always does. Don’t you, Sam?” James pat him on the knee. Sam didn’t stir. “Higher voltage, you say?”
“What the big fellow said.”
“Hm. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid such therapy. Sam, here, they started him right away. I can’t say I’ve seen it making any improvements. The lad keeps withdrawing into himself. There’s so much anger there. Can’t believe they’ll be able to shock it all out. It must be difficult for you,” James turned his attention to Ray. “Losing a friend and colleague like this.”
“Well...”
“The mind is such a fragile thing, isn’t it. Fragile as a child’s body,” James shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be intruding. If Sam does not wake before you leave, I could tell him you stopped by. I am one of the few people here he’ll speak to in complete sentences.”
“Cheers, but it’s important. Think I’ll just wait it out.”
“Carry on, then. I shan’t disturb you any longer,” James smiled and strode out of the room. Ray looked down at Sam. His eyes were still glassy, his skin as white as the room. Ray couldn’t help but wonder, if the Guv had known about the electroshock, would he have gone along with the sectioning?
*
“Just buy me more time, Chris,” Ray begged over the phone.
“I’m trying! But Carter’s already asking questions.”
“Then make summat up. You’re still a copper, aren’t you? Lie!”
“He catches on real quick, like. He’ll know.”
“Fine,” Ray sighed. “Then don’t lie. Just don’t tell him the truth.”
“Uhm...”
“Tell him you don’t know where I went. That I told you I was working on the Hartford case.”
“Alright...”
“Good. I’ll see you back at the station.”
“Ray--”
He hung up the lobby pay phone before Chris could ask another question. As long as Chris didn’t tell Carter where he really was, that was all Ray needed from him. Now, all he needed from Tyler was for the twonk to come out of his stupor.
*
It was nearly four o’clock by the time Sam began to stir. His hand twitched and his eyes fluttered. A low, groan escaped his lips, but he didn’t try to move. Ray left his seat on Bresson’s bed and leaned over Tyler.
“Boss. Wake up,” he ordered. Sam groaned again. “I said up, Tyler! I’ve already wasted enough time sitting here.”
“Go...’way...sleep,” he mumbled.
“You’ve slept enough and I need some answers,” he growled and watched as Sam tried to focus his eyes.
“Who...you?” he asked hazily.
“It’s Ray. DS Carling. From the station?”
“D...S...Dog shit,” Sam sleepily smirked.
“You’re making it hard not to punch you, Boss.”
“Boss...not boss...inspector...nowt,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to move his limps.
“Look, don’t matter. I just need to ask you summat.”
“No one,” he whispered.
“Did you ever talk to Jackie Queen?”
“ ‘M...no one.”
“Sam, did you ever talk to Jackie Queen ‘bout the Guv? ‘Bout the affair?”
“Nothing...no one...”
“Did she tell you about Vera?”
“Nowhere.”
“Did you know Vera was cheating?”
“ ‘M...loser.”
“Tyler. Focus.”
“Loser...You’re a loser, Joni...cos you live in fear...” he snarled, still out of it. He’d started squirming on the mattress now, and Ray pinned him by the shoulders, trying to get his attention.
“Did you know Vera was cheating? Did you know with you?”
“Pointless. ‘S all pointless,” Sam wriggled weakly.
“Dammit, Tyler! Snap out of it,” he shook him.
“Pointless, I said...Not...worth it...She’s not worth it, Guv.”
Ray released Sam with a jolt.
“Let her go...Can. Divorce ‘s common...But what’s the point, Gene?”
Ray watched in disbelief as Sam shuddered and twitched, rehashing a conversation from months passed. At least, that’s what he hoped it was.
“Can’t...or won’t?...Cos ‘s not healthy...don’t blame me...I...I...I’m Sam. My name is Sam.”
“Tyler?”
This time, Sam looked right at him.
“Is it?” He asked, genuinely unsure. “I thought...but they said...Williams. Am I Williams?” he asked Ray.
“I don’t know.”
“Oh,” Sam looked down. He didn’t sit up and Ray wasn’t sure if he could. “I don’t want to be Williams. If I am. He’s not nice.”
“No,” Ray shook his head. “No, he ain’t.”
Sam passed out soon after that. He’d be of no more use today. Ray had a feeling that if they waited much longer, he wouldn’t be of any use ever again.