Fic: The Art of Being Lost and Found (16/?), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: The Art of Being Lost and Found (16/?)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1414 (this part); (22,132 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.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
While Ray was growing more relaxed as they drove further into the city, Tyler appeared to be growing more apprehensive. His body was tensing up and he kept chewing on his thumb. Chris had moved to the front seat when they left the pub and seemed oblivious to Sam’s anxiety.
“I’d like to get out now,” Sam spoke up.
“We’re nearly there,” Ray griped.
“Just sit tight, Boss. We’ll have you out in a jiffy,” Chris smiled. Sam did not reply, simply went back to chewing on his thumb.
Ray parked the car a block away from the bakery. As soon as the engine was off, his passengers were scrambling to get out. Sam succeeded first, and Ray hurried out in case the nutter decided to do a runner. Sam apparently had no desire to run anywhere, however. Instead, he walked straight up to the closest brick wall and began running his fingers over it.
“Rough,” he said and smiled. “The...the walls...there...are smooth. I prefer rough.”
“Course you do,” Ray huffed. “Known you were a kinky bastard since Joni. C’mon. Hynes’ is this way,” he grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him down the street, while Chris took up the rear. Sam allowed himself to be pulled while his head darted this way and that, taking in all the sights he could.
“Right. Here we are,” Ray jerked him to a stop.
“Where’s here?” Sam asked.
“What do you know about that building?” Ray pointed across the street, where the bakery was busy selling off the last of its morning wares to hungry patrons. Sam stared at the building, watching the people go to and fro.
“It’s brick,” he announced. “Three storeys.”
Ray rolled his eyes while Chris chuckled.
“This ain’t funny,” he sneered.
“No,” Chris agreed. “Well, sort of is,” he added with a grin.
“One large plate glass window on the first floor,” Sam continued. “Two windows facing the street on each the second and third floor. No fire escape. Loose bricks in the back. My mum would take me here for scones,” he said wistfully.
“Hold on. What’d you say?” Ray wasn’t quite sure what he had just heard.
“My mum would take me here for scones?” Sam repeated, looking to Ray to see if that was the right answer.
“No. Before that.”
Sam stared into space, his face completely neutral, then started speaking again.
“I always liked the buttermilk scones. Auntie Heather thought that was boring--”
“Oh, for chrissakes,” Ray cut in, but Sam continued nonetheless.
“--but it’s what I liked. Perhaps I was a boring child. I don’t much care for scones anymore,” Sam kept rambling, so Ray turned to Chris.
“Did you hear him say summat about loose bricks?”
“I think so,” Chris nodded. “Sort of hungry for scones meself now,” he added sheepishly.
“We haven’t shown him the back of the building. That means he must remember he was here before. Tyler,” Ray tried to get his attention.
“Yes, thank you. I would like a scone.”
“Enough with the scones. Loose bricks. You were talking ‘bout the loose bricks in the back.”
“Lovely, cheers,” he nodded, once again staring into nowhere.
“Do you remember the last time you were here? Why you were here?”
“Don’t rush him, Ray.”
“I’m not rushing him.”
“You sort of are.”
“Yes,” Sam nodded.
“See?” Chris pointed out.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Sam said.
“He has to do it in his own time,” Chris defended him. “He told me that once, when we were doing an interview. He said sometimes it’s better to let witnesses, not suspects, answer in their own time. I even wrote it down.”
“I don’t think Gene would agree,” Sam sighed.
“Course he wouldn’t,” Ray shook his head. “When did he ever agree with you?”
“You should tell him, Vera,” Sam replied.
Both Ray and Chris snapped their heads towards Tyler.
“Do you really believe Larry would?”
“Believe Larry would what?” Ray asked, but Sam was lost in his own world - so lost, he was even speaking with his normal inflection and cadence.
“You have to do what makes you happy, Vera. Who makes you happier?”
Ray desperately wished he could hear the other half of the conversation.
“Then you need to decide.”
“Is he--” Chris started, but Ray hushed him.
“Fine. I will. But you’ll have to tell Gene at some point.”
“You’ll do what?” Ray asked.
“No. I can’t,” Sam shook his head.
“Can’t do what?”
Sam kept staring into nothing, blinked his eyes rapidly, then looked at Ray.
“I think my head hurts,” he finally replied, then went back to admiring the brick wall behind him.
“Getting answers out of him is hard as going upstairs inside with Phyllis.”
“Have you tried going upstairs inside with Phyllis?” Chris asked, grimacing.
“No,” Ray was quick to answer. “It was one of them metaphors.”
“Simile,” Sam corrected, still running his hands over the brick wall.
“Whatever,” Ray huffed. “Right, so looks like he’s given us everything he could. Let’s get him back in the car.”
“And go where?” Chris asked.
“Back to Fox Hollow.”
“But, we still have loads of time.”
“Which it turns out we don’t need. Now, get him back in the car.”
“Well, what else were you going to do today?”
“For starters, I was going to drive the nutter back to the nuthouse. Then, I was going to have a pint. And then, I was going to talk to Vera ‘bout that conversation she had with Tyler. So, first we need to put him back.”
“He’s doing well, ain’t he? Couldn’t we...”
“What Chris? What d’you want to do with him?”
“I don’t know!” Chris shouted as much as Chris ever shouted. “’S not fair, sending him back there. That place...just ain’t right. Even if he were mad, he were always smart. Not...”
They both looked at him. Sam was now rubbing his hands over the pavement, grinning.
“We can’t kidnap him, Chris.”
“I know.”
“We can’t bring him round the station, either. No one can know we took him out. They’ll know we’re investigating the Guv and word’ll get back to Litton and Carter. Do you want to get suspended?”
“I’m quitting anyhow,” Chris mumbled, staring at his feet.
“Not yet you’re not,” Ray reminded him. “Look,” he sighed. “No law saying you can’t go visit him. I’m sure he’d like it. But right now, what’s best for the Guv is putting Tyler back and following up this lead. Alright?”
“Right,” Chris agreed reluctantly.
“Good. Now, he likes you better, so you get him in the car,” he ordered. Chris nodded.
“C’mon, Sam,” he sighed, bending down to hoist their former Inspector off the ground.
“Are we leaving?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. We’re leaving.”
“Can I get a scone?” he pointed to the bakery.
“’Fraid there all out. C’mon, Boss,” Chris led him back down the street.
“That’s a shame,” Sam sighed.
“Yeah. Yeah it is,” Chris agreed as Ray followed them back to the car.
*
Unlike their drive to the city, Sam became more and more withdrawn as they returned to Fox Hollow. If Chris asked a question, he received a monosyllabic answer. Ray and Chris filled the silence with their typical banter, but Tyler would not join in. All for the better, really, Ray decided. It would do Tyler no good, getting used to this type of outing.
When they arrived at the asylum, Chris had to open the door and coax Sam out. They exchanged words Ray couldn’t hear, then finally Sam climbed out of the car. The walk to the building was slow and Ray wished he could push Tyler along. He had the feeling, however, that Chris wouldn’t appreciate it, so he kept his hands in his pockets and his mouth firmly shut.
Once inside, the desk nurse immediately greeted them with a cheerful, “Welcome back, Mr. Williams,” and called for an orderly.
“We’ll, uhm, we’ll see you soon, Sam,” Chris smiled and pat him on the shoulder.
“No you won’t,” was Sam’s farewell, and he shuffled over to his keeper without ever looking back.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Ray announced as they returned to the car park. The look Chris shot him was enough to kill a horse.
“You know what he said in the car?”
“No. Summat about scones, probably.”
“He said, ‘I thought I had till six,’” Chris answered and brushed past Ray in his hurry to reach the car.
Author: dak
Word Count: 1414 (this part); (22,132 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.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
While Ray was growing more relaxed as they drove further into the city, Tyler appeared to be growing more apprehensive. His body was tensing up and he kept chewing on his thumb. Chris had moved to the front seat when they left the pub and seemed oblivious to Sam’s anxiety.
“I’d like to get out now,” Sam spoke up.
“We’re nearly there,” Ray griped.
“Just sit tight, Boss. We’ll have you out in a jiffy,” Chris smiled. Sam did not reply, simply went back to chewing on his thumb.
Ray parked the car a block away from the bakery. As soon as the engine was off, his passengers were scrambling to get out. Sam succeeded first, and Ray hurried out in case the nutter decided to do a runner. Sam apparently had no desire to run anywhere, however. Instead, he walked straight up to the closest brick wall and began running his fingers over it.
“Rough,” he said and smiled. “The...the walls...there...are smooth. I prefer rough.”
“Course you do,” Ray huffed. “Known you were a kinky bastard since Joni. C’mon. Hynes’ is this way,” he grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him down the street, while Chris took up the rear. Sam allowed himself to be pulled while his head darted this way and that, taking in all the sights he could.
“Right. Here we are,” Ray jerked him to a stop.
“Where’s here?” Sam asked.
“What do you know about that building?” Ray pointed across the street, where the bakery was busy selling off the last of its morning wares to hungry patrons. Sam stared at the building, watching the people go to and fro.
“It’s brick,” he announced. “Three storeys.”
Ray rolled his eyes while Chris chuckled.
“This ain’t funny,” he sneered.
“No,” Chris agreed. “Well, sort of is,” he added with a grin.
“One large plate glass window on the first floor,” Sam continued. “Two windows facing the street on each the second and third floor. No fire escape. Loose bricks in the back. My mum would take me here for scones,” he said wistfully.
“Hold on. What’d you say?” Ray wasn’t quite sure what he had just heard.
“My mum would take me here for scones?” Sam repeated, looking to Ray to see if that was the right answer.
“No. Before that.”
Sam stared into space, his face completely neutral, then started speaking again.
“I always liked the buttermilk scones. Auntie Heather thought that was boring--”
“Oh, for chrissakes,” Ray cut in, but Sam continued nonetheless.
“--but it’s what I liked. Perhaps I was a boring child. I don’t much care for scones anymore,” Sam kept rambling, so Ray turned to Chris.
“Did you hear him say summat about loose bricks?”
“I think so,” Chris nodded. “Sort of hungry for scones meself now,” he added sheepishly.
“We haven’t shown him the back of the building. That means he must remember he was here before. Tyler,” Ray tried to get his attention.
“Yes, thank you. I would like a scone.”
“Enough with the scones. Loose bricks. You were talking ‘bout the loose bricks in the back.”
“Lovely, cheers,” he nodded, once again staring into nowhere.
“Do you remember the last time you were here? Why you were here?”
“Don’t rush him, Ray.”
“I’m not rushing him.”
“You sort of are.”
“Yes,” Sam nodded.
“See?” Chris pointed out.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Sam said.
“He has to do it in his own time,” Chris defended him. “He told me that once, when we were doing an interview. He said sometimes it’s better to let witnesses, not suspects, answer in their own time. I even wrote it down.”
“I don’t think Gene would agree,” Sam sighed.
“Course he wouldn’t,” Ray shook his head. “When did he ever agree with you?”
“You should tell him, Vera,” Sam replied.
Both Ray and Chris snapped their heads towards Tyler.
“Do you really believe Larry would?”
“Believe Larry would what?” Ray asked, but Sam was lost in his own world - so lost, he was even speaking with his normal inflection and cadence.
“You have to do what makes you happy, Vera. Who makes you happier?”
Ray desperately wished he could hear the other half of the conversation.
“Then you need to decide.”
“Is he--” Chris started, but Ray hushed him.
“Fine. I will. But you’ll have to tell Gene at some point.”
“You’ll do what?” Ray asked.
“No. I can’t,” Sam shook his head.
“Can’t do what?”
Sam kept staring into nothing, blinked his eyes rapidly, then looked at Ray.
“I think my head hurts,” he finally replied, then went back to admiring the brick wall behind him.
“Getting answers out of him is hard as going upstairs inside with Phyllis.”
“Have you tried going upstairs inside with Phyllis?” Chris asked, grimacing.
“No,” Ray was quick to answer. “It was one of them metaphors.”
“Simile,” Sam corrected, still running his hands over the brick wall.
“Whatever,” Ray huffed. “Right, so looks like he’s given us everything he could. Let’s get him back in the car.”
“And go where?” Chris asked.
“Back to Fox Hollow.”
“But, we still have loads of time.”
“Which it turns out we don’t need. Now, get him back in the car.”
“Well, what else were you going to do today?”
“For starters, I was going to drive the nutter back to the nuthouse. Then, I was going to have a pint. And then, I was going to talk to Vera ‘bout that conversation she had with Tyler. So, first we need to put him back.”
“He’s doing well, ain’t he? Couldn’t we...”
“What Chris? What d’you want to do with him?”
“I don’t know!” Chris shouted as much as Chris ever shouted. “’S not fair, sending him back there. That place...just ain’t right. Even if he were mad, he were always smart. Not...”
They both looked at him. Sam was now rubbing his hands over the pavement, grinning.
“We can’t kidnap him, Chris.”
“I know.”
“We can’t bring him round the station, either. No one can know we took him out. They’ll know we’re investigating the Guv and word’ll get back to Litton and Carter. Do you want to get suspended?”
“I’m quitting anyhow,” Chris mumbled, staring at his feet.
“Not yet you’re not,” Ray reminded him. “Look,” he sighed. “No law saying you can’t go visit him. I’m sure he’d like it. But right now, what’s best for the Guv is putting Tyler back and following up this lead. Alright?”
“Right,” Chris agreed reluctantly.
“Good. Now, he likes you better, so you get him in the car,” he ordered. Chris nodded.
“C’mon, Sam,” he sighed, bending down to hoist their former Inspector off the ground.
“Are we leaving?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. We’re leaving.”
“Can I get a scone?” he pointed to the bakery.
“’Fraid there all out. C’mon, Boss,” Chris led him back down the street.
“That’s a shame,” Sam sighed.
“Yeah. Yeah it is,” Chris agreed as Ray followed them back to the car.
*
Unlike their drive to the city, Sam became more and more withdrawn as they returned to Fox Hollow. If Chris asked a question, he received a monosyllabic answer. Ray and Chris filled the silence with their typical banter, but Tyler would not join in. All for the better, really, Ray decided. It would do Tyler no good, getting used to this type of outing.
When they arrived at the asylum, Chris had to open the door and coax Sam out. They exchanged words Ray couldn’t hear, then finally Sam climbed out of the car. The walk to the building was slow and Ray wished he could push Tyler along. He had the feeling, however, that Chris wouldn’t appreciate it, so he kept his hands in his pockets and his mouth firmly shut.
Once inside, the desk nurse immediately greeted them with a cheerful, “Welcome back, Mr. Williams,” and called for an orderly.
“We’ll, uhm, we’ll see you soon, Sam,” Chris smiled and pat him on the shoulder.
“No you won’t,” was Sam’s farewell, and he shuffled over to his keeper without ever looking back.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Ray announced as they returned to the car park. The look Chris shot him was enough to kill a horse.
“You know what he said in the car?”
“No. Summat about scones, probably.”
“He said, ‘I thought I had till six,’” Chris answered and brushed past Ray in his hurry to reach the car.