Fic: When Almost is too Close, Gen, Red Cortina, marling_Flynn
Title: When Almost is too Close
Rating: Red Cortina (attempted rape, some violence)
Word Count: 5,081
Notes: So, I don't know whether I should introduce myself on here or not (I've been secretly lurking around for a while, but I haven't spoken to anyone, just a silent admirer). I'm marling_Flynn and this is the first time I've posted to the LoM community ^^ This is going to have a lot of Sam!whump in it and bamf!Gene and lots of h/c
Summary: Gene saves Sam before it's too late.
Sam had always preferred to sleep on his stomach. That was how it had always been, sprawled out on his front, arms, previously wrapped around a tatty toy cat he refused to let go of until he was nine, now wrapped around his pillow. It was a habit he had had to abandon with Maya, seeing as the particular position made cuddling in bed near impossible unless he was in the mood for dislocating one of his shoulders. But since he arrived in 1973, there'd been no one to share his bed with (not that it was big enough for two people anyway), so he returned to sleeping on his stomach.
That was the reason why he wasn't alarmed at first when he woke up. He was used to having half of his face crushed against the pillow and thought nothing of it that he woke up like that. Groaning, disgruntled to find himself waking up in the middle of the night, he turned over. Or, rather he tried to. Sam's body twisted whilst his arms stayed put, handcuffed to the metal rails on his bed. The DI's eyes shot wide open and he jolted up in shock, the flimsy bed frame rattling as he pulled at his wrists, knowing full well it wouldn't do him any good. He tried push himself up, only to find he couldn't get very far. He could feel some sort of band or material strapping his legs down to the mattress, so tightly he could scarcely squirm.
"I think your current situation, Mr Tyler, might indicate that it is useless to struggle."
Sam's head snapped up at the voice, the feeling of his heart beating in his chest unnerving. Limbs quivering with adrenaline, he pushed himself onto the elbows as best he could and looked up to see a man leaning against his wall, watching him. It was difficult to make out his face in the dim, but it was vaguely familiar.
"W-who are you?" he asked, looking the man up and down, "and what the hell are you doing in my flat?"
The man smiled and shook his head, tutting, "Mr Tyler, I'm hurt that you would forget me! It's only been a week," he purred, ignoring the last question, "Not so long since we last parted, you know."
Sam frowned, blinking hard, trying to figure out who the hell he had managed to piss off last week. On any given day of any week the list was pretty long. Still, the silky voice was familiar and he knew that black hair, the impeccably smart attire. Why couldn't he place- Sam flinched violently as he felt a hand run through his short hair. Since when did he get so close? The man, who was a few feet away before, now towered over him. He tried to shake off the man's hand, the movement to wild it could have caused him whiplash.
"Now, now, Sam," the man murmured, a hint of anger festering underneath his silky words, "if you don't know how to be nice, I'm going to have to teach you," the fingers were in his hair again, pulling this time and hard, a few short hairs plucked out of his scalp by the offending fist. Sam grimaced, arms trembling with the effort of having to support his upper body weight for so long. The man knelt down, no longer towering over the DI, "and I don't think you'd appreciate my teaching method all that much."
Through the tears of pain pricking his eyes, Sam peered into the man's face, recognition dawning on him, "Harry Walker," he hissed, his arms close to giving out, yet the hand still gripped his hair, "I locked you up."
Walker hummed, smiling, the anger evaporating as the horrible sweetness returned to his voice, "I know," he murmured softly, watching the tremors ripple through Sam's arms, "I got out. The trial isn't yet upon me, Sam."
"Yeah, well, I'll be able to add breaking and entering and the false imprisonment of a police officer to your charges before you get to the courts," Sam snarled.
Walker smiled on, unfazed by the inspector's threats, "Oh I'm sure you'll be able to add a few more onto your list when this is over."
"What, robbery?" Sam spat, glaring at the man, tugging at his handcuffs, if not out of instinct but anger, "Assault? GBH?"
Walker's mouth twitched, "You'll wish it was by the time I'm done with you."
Sam didn't understand the implications of the words, but they made him feel like his heart was pumping ice instead of blood. Every fibre of his body was telling him to get out, to run away, but he refused to struggle any more. He didn't want to show just how unnerved he was. "And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, pleased with how disdainful his voice sounded. At least, that was how it sounded to him.
"Well Sam," Walker said, sitting on the bed next to the inspector, Sam instinctively trying to move from his all too close presence, "You arrested me, as I'm sure you'll remember, for having sex with a prostitute. Well, I'm going to tell you something. I never got the chance to sleep with that boy," anger smouldered beneath his words, though his hand, now at Sam's back, was gentle, caressing, sending shivers up and down his spine, "I didn't get my fill that night. I haven't had it since," the man's burning eyes connected with Sam's, "don't you think it would be fitting, Sam? If you gave me what I should have had that night?" Walker grinned, a horrible, hungry, wolfish grin, "you'll be a good boy, Sam. You'll be a good boy and give me what I deserve."
Sam's mouth had turned dry. Heat had risen to his face and somehow was managing to steam his vision like a window, but Walker's face had gone blurry. The ice had turned back into blood- no, no it hadn't, it had turned into lava, hot, burning, fast flowing lava, rushing round his body, burning in his limbs so he could get out, get out, get out, get out, but he couldn't. He was tied down, lashed to his own bed and he couldn't leave, he couldn't get out, he couldn't get out. "I-I'm a DI!" he cried, panic corroding what confidence and calmness he had left, "y-you can't do this! You'll get life if you do this, Walker!"
Walker chuckled, the hand gently massaging Sam's left shoulder, despite the desperate attempts for it to be shaken off, "Oh Sam. You really do trust in your people too much. Do you really think that your colleagues would ever let you live this down? Do you think they'd believe you if you said you were raped? 'Did you hear about that Sam Tyler, fudge packer, fairy, nancy boy. I heard someone fucked him the other night'-"
"Stop it," Sam growled, his face burning, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.
"'Claimed it was rape, but we all know he likes it really'-"
"Stop it."
"'DCI Hunt's DI's a sissy, a gay boy, likes to be fucked like a girl, takes it like a girl'-"
"Stop it!" Sam's voice reached a shout, the tremor in his voice now impossible to hide.
Walker leant in, close enough for his lips to brush against Sam's ear, "Who would believe you, Sam? They all hate queers as much as the next thug. You know they do. No one would be able to see the truth," he grinned, "I'm not going down for this. The only person who'll be going down tonight is you."
It was all Sam could do to bite back the whimper that threatened to rise out of his chest.
"You can't," he whispered, his teeth chattering as his entire body shook, "you can't do this."
Walker slowly pulled up Sam's vest, hand splayed out against his pale back. Sam flinched as he heard a rip as the man tore his vest in two, "Really?" he murmured, his hand sliding beneath the mattress and Sam's stomach, reaching up to his chest, "Who's going to stop me?" he chuckled, running a thumb over a nipple, "Are you going to stop me, Sam? Really? Oh, but I don't think you can," he crooned, pulling out his hand and crouching down, running his thumb over wobbling bottom lip, "Poor Sam. Poor little boy. Can save the world, but can't save himself. Oh, S- ow! You little shit!" Walker yanked back his thumb from between the man's teeth, grimacing at the blood that began to ooze out, "You're going to pay for that, Sam," he snarled, no trace of softness or silkiness left in his voice.
If Sam wasn't panicking so much, he would have perhaps been more indignant at being called a boy when he was thirty seven. But as things were, any particle of bravery had left him and was replaced with overwhelming terror. "Help!" he screamed at the top of his voice, wishing he had the sense to think of this before, "Jesus Christ, someone help!"
"Oh no you don't," Walker snarled, pulling out his handkerchief, gagging Sam before he could say another word, "Don't want to wake up the neighbours now, do we, Sam?" he sneered, though his smile had now turned sweet again, "oh no, I think it'd be better if we were left alone don't you?"
Sam's breath came in short, panicky gasps as he watched, wide eyed and helpless, as the man undid his belt and freeing it with one swift motion. The gag was extremely effective in muffling Sam's screams. He began thrashing around, his inability to speak terrifying him even more. He had always been good with words and now he didn't even have them as his ally. He was well and truly alone and the reality of that sent him into a panic. He pulled at the handcuffs round his wrists, hard enough to sprain or even break them, but he didn't care. He'd gladly break every bone in his body if it meant that he could get out.
"Now Sam," Walker purred, watching with a smile as the DI fought desperately against his bonds, "Don't want to break anything, do we?" Sam didn't hear him. He continued to fight for another minute or so, before a crippling pain flared across his back, "Sam, you have to listen now. You have to be a good boy and listen or else you'll make it worse for yourself," The belt snapped down on Sam's bare back again, making his body arch with pain, tears stinging his eyes, the gag choking his cries, "I don't mind you fighting," he purred, pulling down his trousers, slowly, horribly, Sam watching, unable to take his eyes away, staring with morbid horror, "but we mustn't forget about Daddy," Walker stepped out of his pants and began to walk towards Sam, which made him fight again, even harder than before, "No," he murmured, climbing onto the bed, "we can't forget about Daddy, little boy."
As Sam felt the bed dip with Walkers weight, he fought harder than he'd ever done in his life. No. No, no, no, he wouldn't let this happen, he couldn't, he couldn't let this happen, he couldn't be raped, not here, not now, not in 1973 when male rape wasn't even looked into outside of prison. This wasn't real, couldn't be, couldn't be, he was in a coma, he was asleep, he was dreaming, oh god, no, no, he pulling down his pants, no, no, no please, no.
Sam whimpered aloud as he felt Walker's hand grip his member, "We'll soon sort this, Sam," he cooed, hand moving up and down his shaft, "don't you worry. Daddy's going to fix this," he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the words, trying to ignore the hand, that hand, in a place where it should never ever be. Shudders ran through his body, but (horribly, awfully, weirdly) tendrils of pleasure rippled through him too. This was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but his body thought it was right, his body thought it was good and oh god, Walker's laughing, Jesus, he's laughing at him and- nonononono, that wasn't meant to be there, that hot, pressure at his rear, no, no, why was that there, oh god, oh god, it was going to happen, oh god, oh god, no, god, please, no, no- CRASH!
Sam cried out, burying his face against the pillow as seemingly the world around him exploded. Some unintelligible roar filled his ears and he whimpered into the pillow, letting out a sob as he felt the horrible, hot pressure leave his behind.
"You dirty, nonce-bastard scum!"
Guv? Sam dared to look up to see Gene hunt kicking the life out of Harry Walker, who was curled up on the floor whimpering.
"You've messed with the wrong DI, mate," he snarled, "nobody. Goes after. My. Men!" every stop was punctuated with a sharp kick, the last one ending in a sickening crunch as Gene's loafer sounded like it broke Walker's face. Panting, he turned round and saw Sam, staring at him with round, teary eyes. He stopped, blinking, as if he had only just realised Sam was there. Sam couldn't read the expression on Gene's face. It was only in the silence that he realised that he was crying, muffled sobs accompanied with Gene's laboured breathing and Walkers groans.
The Guv's head snapped towards the door as he heard running footsteps and he quickly tossed his coat over Sam's naked form. The movement only just saved Sam from the shame of having Ray and Chris see him naked and bound to his own bed. That would have been humiliation too much to bear. Gene hauled Walker to his feet, "Get him out of here," he snarled, shoving him towards Ray and Chris, "take 'im to the station now!"
Sam managed, out of the corner of his eyes, to see Walker leave his flat, Gene slamming the door shut behind them. He stood there for a moment, head bowed, before he bent down and picked something off the floor. He crouched down next to Sam, who was shuddering under his large camel hair coat and carefully took off the gag. The sobs broke lose, gasping, awful cries. Tears burned his eyes as they rolled down his flushed cheeks, staining his pillow as he hid his face against it.
"It's alright, Sammy," Gene murmured, undoing the handcuffs round Sam's wrists with the key he got from Walker's trouser pocket, "It's alright, he's gone now. It's okay, he's gone," he released the bindings round his legs, quickly pulling the pyjama bottoms that had been bunched up round his knees. Carefully, he helped Sam sit up, glancing at the angry welts burned red against his pale back, though he didn't mention them. The DI was clinging to Gene's coat like a life raft, still using it to cover himself, looking like a child hiding behind the large coat. Sam watched as Gene rifled through his chest of drawers, pulling out a shirt and a pair of socks. "C'mon Sammy-boy, we need to get you dressed," the Guv's voice, still somehow managed to be gruff and soft at the same time. He managed to prise his coat out of his trembling grip and lowered it down so that it was covering Sam's lap, pressing a shirt into his shaking hands instead.
Sam only stared at it, cries and whimpers being his only reply. Gene sighed, though it was more out of sadness than anything else, "C'mon, Sammy," he said, "you can do this, one arm at a time," It was embarrassing, having to have his boss effectively dress him, but he simply couldn't do it himself. The inspector had seemingly forgotten how to function. His Guv, however, didn't seem to mind all that much. He continued to murmur encouraging words under his breath whilst he pulled away the tattered remains of his vest and manoeuvred his DI's arms into the sleeves. With uncharacteristic gentleness he pushed away Sam's trembling fingers, which were fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and did them up for him.
"Sorry," Gene looked up at his DI's voice. It was the first time he'd spoken and the word was blurted out, the word sounding odd and broken, "Sorry," he choked, burying his face in his hands, "sorry, sorry..."
"Don't be stupid, Sam," he muttered, shaking his head as he fitted his last shoe on, "got nothing to be sorry for. He's the one who'll be sorry," he looked up, frowning at his DI, "Sam," he said, his voice turning firm, "look at me," whimpering, Sam pulled away his hands, looking down at his Guv. Gene reached out and gripped his DI's shoulder, "don't you dare think that you have anything to be sorry for. Because you 'aven't. There was nothing you could 'ave done. That bastard had you trussed up like a Christmas turkey, there was no way you could 'ave stopped him. So don't you go apologising, Sam. You don't have anything to be sorry for. Alright?" Sam nodded slowly, staring at his Guv.
Gene nodded, "Good," he watched as Sam struggled to say something, waited patiently whilst his DI struggled to get out the words. He let him take his time, anger and sadness darkening his brow as he watched the tears drip off Sam's chin.
"G-Guv... He was going t-to..." his breath hitched and sobbed, "i-if you hadn't come..." his words were broken off as Gene's hand grasped his shoulder once more and pulled him to where he was kneeling. His nose was filled with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol as he was pressed against Gene's shoulder, held in a tight, firm embrace. Sam's hands instantly reached up, grabbing the back of the Guv's shirt, clinging to him like he had his coat.
"I did come, Sam," Gene murmured, his voice tinged with sadness, fierce determination smouldering underneath his words, "I stopped him. It's alright, Sammy. It didn't happen. It didn't happen."
"I-it... c-could've," Sam choked, burying his face against his Guv's shoulder, "He... He was going to... I-I couldn't stop him..." words failed him and he slumped against his Guv's front, his body racked with sobs. He felt the strong arms tighten around his slim frame, a hand squeeze his shoulder and he knew he was safe. He let himself melt into the embrace, let himself cling to Gene like a child because it was what he needed. He was scared and he couldn't be strong, not this time. But it was alright. Sam could afford to breakdown today. He could fall to pieces because the Guv was there to hold him together. Even if he couldn't fix him, at least not tonight, he could make sure to keep him from falling apart completely.
Gene had a death grip on Sam, careful to avoid the welts on his back, which he could still see through the thin shirt, seared on to his DI's pale skin. He didn't show any anger though. No, not now, he couldn't, not with Sam crying into his shoulder, with every tremor that ran through him palpable. So, instead of ranting and raging and going down to CID and kicking the living daylights out of Walker, which was what he really wanted to do, he held his crying deputy in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth and promising him it would be alright. He wasn't sure that it would be, but he knew that there wasn't a chance in hell that Walker was getting at his DI again, not with the Gene Genie around.
Sam didn't know how long they were there, clinging to one another, but eventually, his sobs eased away and his eyes, aching with crying, were no longer filled with tears. He slowly disentangled himself from Gene's arms, sniffling, wiping his flushed cheeks with his sleeve. "Sorry, Gene," he mumbled, feeling embarrassed now that he had calmed down. Even though it was what he had needed, he felt embarrassed to know that he had cried all over his Guv, "I-I didn't mean to-"
"Shut up, Tyler," Sam looked up in surprise. He'd seen that look on his face before, anger and sadness mixed in one. He knew Gene didn't show, or tried not to show, any emotion he saw to be a weakness, but sometimes he'd show that part of him, a part few were privy to see, "I told you, you don't have anythin' to be sorry for. Okay?" Sam nodded, gaze returning to the floor, "Say it."
Sam gulped at the command, though Gene didn't soften his gaze, his eyes boring into his DI's. "I-I don't have anything t-to be sorry for," Gene nodded, satisfied and clasped Sam by the shoulder again, "Good," he gave him a small smile, before rising to his feet, helping Sam back onto the bed, like it was the most normal thing to do to be this gentle. Sam was starting to notice how careful Gene was being with him, but the Guv didn't neither seemed to notice or care and Sam certainly wasn't going to complain or point it out. "Right, 'ave you got a suitcase in 'ere, Sammy-boy?"
Sam, thrown by the question, took a moment to reply, "W-what?"
"Do you have a suitcase?"
Sam nodded, "Y-yeah, under my bed," he watched Gene hauled the suitcase out from under his bed, "where am I going?" he asked, staring as Gene tossed clothes into the suitcase.
"Home," was the short reply.
Sam blinked, "Home?"
"Yeah, my home. Doubt you'll be wantin' to spend the night here, will you?" Sam shook his head. He hadn't even thought about going back to sleep. Truth be told, he wasn't really thinking at all right now, so he just let the Guv take care of things, something which he wasn't particularly used to. He watched in silence as his DCI packed him his clothes, tremors rippling through his slim frame. Occasionally, he reached up to wipe at his cheeks, but neither of them acknowledged the movement. Silence descended on them, broken only by the soft rustling of Sam's clothes being packed and the odd sniffle here and there. Knees drawn up to his chest, he watched Gene, eyes never pulling away, allowing his mind to go blank. He didn't want to think about what just happened, didn't want his mind to wander, didn't want the ghost hands of memory to caress his body again- no, no, he didn't want that. Once it was full, Gene shut the suitcase, "Right, now I just need to ring the missus, let 'er know I'm bringing you back."
"Guv, you don't have to... d-don't bother her-"
"It's not botherin' her, Sam," he said, rolling his eyes, "she got up same time I did, chances are she'll still be awake. Just need to let her know your bed needs sortin'."
Sam stared for a minute whilst Gene dialled the number on his phone, "You're looking after me."
Gene paused, before nodding, "Yeah," he murmured, "s'pose I am," he turned to his DI, frown tinged with sorrow, "I reckon you need it though."
...
Sam nearly fell on his way to the car. His knocking knees had given way and his descent to the ground was swift. He was sure if Gene hadn't caught him just in time he would have broken his kneecaps. The suitcase fell to the ground with a loud thud that seemed to echo round the otherwise silent street as the guv swooped down, grabbing his DI before he fell to the pavement. Sam flinched at the noise, his fingers gripping Gene's arms hard as his legs trembled. Two large, firm hands cupped his elbows, a thumb gently rubbing back and forth against his arm.
"You alright, Sammy-boy?" came the gentle-gruff question above him, Gene's short, warm breath blowing gently on his hair.
Sam nodded.
"Can you walk?"
Sam nodded again, yet made no move, staring with unseeing eyes at the pavement.
A sigh above him, "Come on, then," he muttered, heaving Sam up onto his feet. Slinging an arm around his shoulder and placing his own secure one round his DI's waist, Gene managed to pull his stumbling deputy to his car. Once in, he went back and got the suitcase and they were off.
The journey was silent, flashing by quickly to Sam, who was staring out of the window, watching an illuminated Manchester roll by with a listless gaze. His mind had mercifully turned blank, though his frame was still rattled with tremors, tremors which didn't go unnoticed by Gene. Throughout the journey he continually glanced at his DI, though none of looks were returned and he certainly had no plans on breaking the silence. Even if he wanted to, it wasn't as if they had anything to fill the silence with. Small talk was never Gene's strong point and any attempt at conversation would give birth to the biggest fucking elephant in the room which was the fact that Sam had nearly just been raped. It was a topic that would be pretty hard to avoid for either of them, even if it was the one both wanted to talk about least. So Gene continued to drive in silence, wondering what the hell was going through Sam's head and whether he'd actually end up killing Walker if no one was there to stop him.
Sam didn't notice that Gene had pulled up outside his house. He was still staring outside, his gaze blank and unseeing. It was only when a tentative hand shook his shoulder did he jerk awake. He flinched from his touch, head whipping round to find Gene staring at him; he had that look on his face again, that frown. He was worrying about him and Sam was not used to that, or at least he wasn't used to the Guv showing it so plainly and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. Maybe if he wasn't so shell shocked and sleep deprived he'd be able to examine his feelings a bit, but as things stood, he decided to leave self examination till the morning.
"Come on," Gene said quietly, jerking his head at the house, "we're here."
Hoping that his knees wouldn't give out again, Sam got out of the Cortina and began heading towards the house, startled when the door opened. Sam had only met Gene's missus once before and even then they had only exchanged a few words, but it was difficult to have a proper conversation whilst trying to drag the Guv out of his house, hungover, moody and extremely late for work, Mrs Hunt pushing and Sam pulling. She had seemed formidable then, but then again, he supposed, you'd have to be made of strong stuff to be married to Gene Hunt. So he was a little surprised to find himself being pulled into a hug, taking him a moment to lift up his arms and return the embrace.
She pulled away, smiling at Sam, "Come on, let's get you inside, it's freezing."
She pulled Sam inside the house, leaving the door open for Gene, who was carrying Sam's suitcase. "Oi, don't I get anythin'?" he asked gruffly, dropping the suitcase in the hall,kicking the door shut.
"Not when you're bloody stomping around like an elephant you don't," she said, rolling her eyes, though she smiled when Gene gave her a kiss on the cheek before he headed to the kitchen. Sam watched the exchange silently. He wasn't used to seeing Gene so... domestic. He'd always known he had a missus, but he had never actually thought about how they'd interact. Now that he could see it in front of him, Gene was just like any other husband. It was a strange yet slightly pleasant thought, that Gene had someone who he could be like this with. It wasn't much wonder why he hadn't brought her to meet the team; this side of him couldn't be shown to men who viewed him as the best and strongest DCI they'd ever worked under and besides, there wasn't any need to show off his wife to some of the horniest men in Manchester. Sam felt rather privileged to see this side to his DCI, who was normally as hard as nails, especially in his work.
"Look, Mrs Hunt, I-"
"Emma."
"Emma... I'm sorry to cause you all of this trouble-"
"It's no trouble, Sam," she said, her voice softening, "really, it isn't," she glanced at the stairs where Gene had disappeared to, "you know he talks about you all the time."
Sam looked at her in disbelief, "What, really?"
Emma smiled, "Yeah. Doubt you'd want to hear all of what he says, but I figured you must be doing him some good to get him to talk about you as much as he does," Sam opened his mouth to speak, only to be pushed gently towards the stairs, "go on, you should go to bed."
Taking a moment to find his voice, he nodded and said, "Thank you, Emma."
He climbed up the stairs, making his way into a lit room where Gene was waiting. Sam went in, sitting down on the bed, looking down at the floor.
"You alright?" he nodded at the question, gaze still on the floor.
"Mrs Hunt's nice."
Gene grinned a little, "Yeah, she is. Still haven't answered the question though."
Sam didn't say anything for a minute or so, before asking, his voice quiet, "Where's Walker?"
"CID, where he belongs," Gene took a step closer to Sam, his DI's head still bowed, "he won't get out again, Sam. I'll make sure of that."
Sam finally looked up, eyes shining, "What if he does?" Gene tried not to wince. He sounded like a frightened child, "What if you're not there next time?"
"There won't be a next time, Sam," Gene said firmly, gripping Sam's shoulder, "that bastard won't leave that cell until trial and then he'll stay in another cell for the rest of his life."
"What if he had done it?"
"Sam-"
"What if you didn't come, Gene? What would you have said?"
Gene raised his eyebrows, "What? To you?" he sighed, pausing for a moment, "I would have said what I've told you already. That there was nothing you could have done. And there's nothing to be sorry for. Guilt complex like yours you probably would have placed the blame on yourself somehow," he rubbed his face with his free hand, "it didn't happen, Sammy. That's not much consolation, but it didn't and if he did try again, I'd do whatever I could to stop him."
"I know you would," Sam whispered.
Gene rubbed Sam's shoulder, "Come on, it's half three. Try and get some sleep, okay?"
Sam nodded. Gene turned and was just about to close the door behind him, before he heard, "Gene?"
He turned, looking at him with tired eyes, "Yeah, Sammy?"
Sam was peering shyly at Gene, his gaze raw and grateful, "Thank you."
Gene gave a small, weary smile, "It's alright, Sam."
Rating: Red Cortina (attempted rape, some violence)
Word Count: 5,081
Notes: So, I don't know whether I should introduce myself on here or not (I've been secretly lurking around for a while, but I haven't spoken to anyone, just a silent admirer). I'm marling_Flynn and this is the first time I've posted to the LoM community ^^ This is going to have a lot of Sam!whump in it and bamf!Gene and lots of h/c
Summary: Gene saves Sam before it's too late.
Sam had always preferred to sleep on his stomach. That was how it had always been, sprawled out on his front, arms, previously wrapped around a tatty toy cat he refused to let go of until he was nine, now wrapped around his pillow. It was a habit he had had to abandon with Maya, seeing as the particular position made cuddling in bed near impossible unless he was in the mood for dislocating one of his shoulders. But since he arrived in 1973, there'd been no one to share his bed with (not that it was big enough for two people anyway), so he returned to sleeping on his stomach.
That was the reason why he wasn't alarmed at first when he woke up. He was used to having half of his face crushed against the pillow and thought nothing of it that he woke up like that. Groaning, disgruntled to find himself waking up in the middle of the night, he turned over. Or, rather he tried to. Sam's body twisted whilst his arms stayed put, handcuffed to the metal rails on his bed. The DI's eyes shot wide open and he jolted up in shock, the flimsy bed frame rattling as he pulled at his wrists, knowing full well it wouldn't do him any good. He tried push himself up, only to find he couldn't get very far. He could feel some sort of band or material strapping his legs down to the mattress, so tightly he could scarcely squirm.
"I think your current situation, Mr Tyler, might indicate that it is useless to struggle."
Sam's head snapped up at the voice, the feeling of his heart beating in his chest unnerving. Limbs quivering with adrenaline, he pushed himself onto the elbows as best he could and looked up to see a man leaning against his wall, watching him. It was difficult to make out his face in the dim, but it was vaguely familiar.
"W-who are you?" he asked, looking the man up and down, "and what the hell are you doing in my flat?"
The man smiled and shook his head, tutting, "Mr Tyler, I'm hurt that you would forget me! It's only been a week," he purred, ignoring the last question, "Not so long since we last parted, you know."
Sam frowned, blinking hard, trying to figure out who the hell he had managed to piss off last week. On any given day of any week the list was pretty long. Still, the silky voice was familiar and he knew that black hair, the impeccably smart attire. Why couldn't he place- Sam flinched violently as he felt a hand run through his short hair. Since when did he get so close? The man, who was a few feet away before, now towered over him. He tried to shake off the man's hand, the movement to wild it could have caused him whiplash.
"Now, now, Sam," the man murmured, a hint of anger festering underneath his silky words, "if you don't know how to be nice, I'm going to have to teach you," the fingers were in his hair again, pulling this time and hard, a few short hairs plucked out of his scalp by the offending fist. Sam grimaced, arms trembling with the effort of having to support his upper body weight for so long. The man knelt down, no longer towering over the DI, "and I don't think you'd appreciate my teaching method all that much."
Through the tears of pain pricking his eyes, Sam peered into the man's face, recognition dawning on him, "Harry Walker," he hissed, his arms close to giving out, yet the hand still gripped his hair, "I locked you up."
Walker hummed, smiling, the anger evaporating as the horrible sweetness returned to his voice, "I know," he murmured softly, watching the tremors ripple through Sam's arms, "I got out. The trial isn't yet upon me, Sam."
"Yeah, well, I'll be able to add breaking and entering and the false imprisonment of a police officer to your charges before you get to the courts," Sam snarled.
Walker smiled on, unfazed by the inspector's threats, "Oh I'm sure you'll be able to add a few more onto your list when this is over."
"What, robbery?" Sam spat, glaring at the man, tugging at his handcuffs, if not out of instinct but anger, "Assault? GBH?"
Walker's mouth twitched, "You'll wish it was by the time I'm done with you."
Sam didn't understand the implications of the words, but they made him feel like his heart was pumping ice instead of blood. Every fibre of his body was telling him to get out, to run away, but he refused to struggle any more. He didn't want to show just how unnerved he was. "And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, pleased with how disdainful his voice sounded. At least, that was how it sounded to him.
"Well Sam," Walker said, sitting on the bed next to the inspector, Sam instinctively trying to move from his all too close presence, "You arrested me, as I'm sure you'll remember, for having sex with a prostitute. Well, I'm going to tell you something. I never got the chance to sleep with that boy," anger smouldered beneath his words, though his hand, now at Sam's back, was gentle, caressing, sending shivers up and down his spine, "I didn't get my fill that night. I haven't had it since," the man's burning eyes connected with Sam's, "don't you think it would be fitting, Sam? If you gave me what I should have had that night?" Walker grinned, a horrible, hungry, wolfish grin, "you'll be a good boy, Sam. You'll be a good boy and give me what I deserve."
Sam's mouth had turned dry. Heat had risen to his face and somehow was managing to steam his vision like a window, but Walker's face had gone blurry. The ice had turned back into blood- no, no it hadn't, it had turned into lava, hot, burning, fast flowing lava, rushing round his body, burning in his limbs so he could get out, get out, get out, get out, but he couldn't. He was tied down, lashed to his own bed and he couldn't leave, he couldn't get out, he couldn't get out. "I-I'm a DI!" he cried, panic corroding what confidence and calmness he had left, "y-you can't do this! You'll get life if you do this, Walker!"
Walker chuckled, the hand gently massaging Sam's left shoulder, despite the desperate attempts for it to be shaken off, "Oh Sam. You really do trust in your people too much. Do you really think that your colleagues would ever let you live this down? Do you think they'd believe you if you said you were raped? 'Did you hear about that Sam Tyler, fudge packer, fairy, nancy boy. I heard someone fucked him the other night'-"
"Stop it," Sam growled, his face burning, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.
"'Claimed it was rape, but we all know he likes it really'-"
"Stop it."
"'DCI Hunt's DI's a sissy, a gay boy, likes to be fucked like a girl, takes it like a girl'-"
"Stop it!" Sam's voice reached a shout, the tremor in his voice now impossible to hide.
Walker leant in, close enough for his lips to brush against Sam's ear, "Who would believe you, Sam? They all hate queers as much as the next thug. You know they do. No one would be able to see the truth," he grinned, "I'm not going down for this. The only person who'll be going down tonight is you."
It was all Sam could do to bite back the whimper that threatened to rise out of his chest.
"You can't," he whispered, his teeth chattering as his entire body shook, "you can't do this."
Walker slowly pulled up Sam's vest, hand splayed out against his pale back. Sam flinched as he heard a rip as the man tore his vest in two, "Really?" he murmured, his hand sliding beneath the mattress and Sam's stomach, reaching up to his chest, "Who's going to stop me?" he chuckled, running a thumb over a nipple, "Are you going to stop me, Sam? Really? Oh, but I don't think you can," he crooned, pulling out his hand and crouching down, running his thumb over wobbling bottom lip, "Poor Sam. Poor little boy. Can save the world, but can't save himself. Oh, S- ow! You little shit!" Walker yanked back his thumb from between the man's teeth, grimacing at the blood that began to ooze out, "You're going to pay for that, Sam," he snarled, no trace of softness or silkiness left in his voice.
If Sam wasn't panicking so much, he would have perhaps been more indignant at being called a boy when he was thirty seven. But as things were, any particle of bravery had left him and was replaced with overwhelming terror. "Help!" he screamed at the top of his voice, wishing he had the sense to think of this before, "Jesus Christ, someone help!"
"Oh no you don't," Walker snarled, pulling out his handkerchief, gagging Sam before he could say another word, "Don't want to wake up the neighbours now, do we, Sam?" he sneered, though his smile had now turned sweet again, "oh no, I think it'd be better if we were left alone don't you?"
Sam's breath came in short, panicky gasps as he watched, wide eyed and helpless, as the man undid his belt and freeing it with one swift motion. The gag was extremely effective in muffling Sam's screams. He began thrashing around, his inability to speak terrifying him even more. He had always been good with words and now he didn't even have them as his ally. He was well and truly alone and the reality of that sent him into a panic. He pulled at the handcuffs round his wrists, hard enough to sprain or even break them, but he didn't care. He'd gladly break every bone in his body if it meant that he could get out.
"Now Sam," Walker purred, watching with a smile as the DI fought desperately against his bonds, "Don't want to break anything, do we?" Sam didn't hear him. He continued to fight for another minute or so, before a crippling pain flared across his back, "Sam, you have to listen now. You have to be a good boy and listen or else you'll make it worse for yourself," The belt snapped down on Sam's bare back again, making his body arch with pain, tears stinging his eyes, the gag choking his cries, "I don't mind you fighting," he purred, pulling down his trousers, slowly, horribly, Sam watching, unable to take his eyes away, staring with morbid horror, "but we mustn't forget about Daddy," Walker stepped out of his pants and began to walk towards Sam, which made him fight again, even harder than before, "No," he murmured, climbing onto the bed, "we can't forget about Daddy, little boy."
As Sam felt the bed dip with Walkers weight, he fought harder than he'd ever done in his life. No. No, no, no, he wouldn't let this happen, he couldn't, he couldn't let this happen, he couldn't be raped, not here, not now, not in 1973 when male rape wasn't even looked into outside of prison. This wasn't real, couldn't be, couldn't be, he was in a coma, he was asleep, he was dreaming, oh god, no, no, he pulling down his pants, no, no, no please, no.
Sam whimpered aloud as he felt Walker's hand grip his member, "We'll soon sort this, Sam," he cooed, hand moving up and down his shaft, "don't you worry. Daddy's going to fix this," he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the words, trying to ignore the hand, that hand, in a place where it should never ever be. Shudders ran through his body, but (horribly, awfully, weirdly) tendrils of pleasure rippled through him too. This was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but his body thought it was right, his body thought it was good and oh god, Walker's laughing, Jesus, he's laughing at him and- nonononono, that wasn't meant to be there, that hot, pressure at his rear, no, no, why was that there, oh god, oh god, it was going to happen, oh god, oh god, no, god, please, no, no- CRASH!
Sam cried out, burying his face against the pillow as seemingly the world around him exploded. Some unintelligible roar filled his ears and he whimpered into the pillow, letting out a sob as he felt the horrible, hot pressure leave his behind.
"You dirty, nonce-bastard scum!"
Guv? Sam dared to look up to see Gene hunt kicking the life out of Harry Walker, who was curled up on the floor whimpering.
"You've messed with the wrong DI, mate," he snarled, "nobody. Goes after. My. Men!" every stop was punctuated with a sharp kick, the last one ending in a sickening crunch as Gene's loafer sounded like it broke Walker's face. Panting, he turned round and saw Sam, staring at him with round, teary eyes. He stopped, blinking, as if he had only just realised Sam was there. Sam couldn't read the expression on Gene's face. It was only in the silence that he realised that he was crying, muffled sobs accompanied with Gene's laboured breathing and Walkers groans.
The Guv's head snapped towards the door as he heard running footsteps and he quickly tossed his coat over Sam's naked form. The movement only just saved Sam from the shame of having Ray and Chris see him naked and bound to his own bed. That would have been humiliation too much to bear. Gene hauled Walker to his feet, "Get him out of here," he snarled, shoving him towards Ray and Chris, "take 'im to the station now!"
Sam managed, out of the corner of his eyes, to see Walker leave his flat, Gene slamming the door shut behind them. He stood there for a moment, head bowed, before he bent down and picked something off the floor. He crouched down next to Sam, who was shuddering under his large camel hair coat and carefully took off the gag. The sobs broke lose, gasping, awful cries. Tears burned his eyes as they rolled down his flushed cheeks, staining his pillow as he hid his face against it.
"It's alright, Sammy," Gene murmured, undoing the handcuffs round Sam's wrists with the key he got from Walker's trouser pocket, "It's alright, he's gone now. It's okay, he's gone," he released the bindings round his legs, quickly pulling the pyjama bottoms that had been bunched up round his knees. Carefully, he helped Sam sit up, glancing at the angry welts burned red against his pale back, though he didn't mention them. The DI was clinging to Gene's coat like a life raft, still using it to cover himself, looking like a child hiding behind the large coat. Sam watched as Gene rifled through his chest of drawers, pulling out a shirt and a pair of socks. "C'mon Sammy-boy, we need to get you dressed," the Guv's voice, still somehow managed to be gruff and soft at the same time. He managed to prise his coat out of his trembling grip and lowered it down so that it was covering Sam's lap, pressing a shirt into his shaking hands instead.
Sam only stared at it, cries and whimpers being his only reply. Gene sighed, though it was more out of sadness than anything else, "C'mon, Sammy," he said, "you can do this, one arm at a time," It was embarrassing, having to have his boss effectively dress him, but he simply couldn't do it himself. The inspector had seemingly forgotten how to function. His Guv, however, didn't seem to mind all that much. He continued to murmur encouraging words under his breath whilst he pulled away the tattered remains of his vest and manoeuvred his DI's arms into the sleeves. With uncharacteristic gentleness he pushed away Sam's trembling fingers, which were fumbling with the buttons on his shirt and did them up for him.
"Sorry," Gene looked up at his DI's voice. It was the first time he'd spoken and the word was blurted out, the word sounding odd and broken, "Sorry," he choked, burying his face in his hands, "sorry, sorry..."
"Don't be stupid, Sam," he muttered, shaking his head as he fitted his last shoe on, "got nothing to be sorry for. He's the one who'll be sorry," he looked up, frowning at his DI, "Sam," he said, his voice turning firm, "look at me," whimpering, Sam pulled away his hands, looking down at his Guv. Gene reached out and gripped his DI's shoulder, "don't you dare think that you have anything to be sorry for. Because you 'aven't. There was nothing you could 'ave done. That bastard had you trussed up like a Christmas turkey, there was no way you could 'ave stopped him. So don't you go apologising, Sam. You don't have anything to be sorry for. Alright?" Sam nodded slowly, staring at his Guv.
Gene nodded, "Good," he watched as Sam struggled to say something, waited patiently whilst his DI struggled to get out the words. He let him take his time, anger and sadness darkening his brow as he watched the tears drip off Sam's chin.
"G-Guv... He was going t-to..." his breath hitched and sobbed, "i-if you hadn't come..." his words were broken off as Gene's hand grasped his shoulder once more and pulled him to where he was kneeling. His nose was filled with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol as he was pressed against Gene's shoulder, held in a tight, firm embrace. Sam's hands instantly reached up, grabbing the back of the Guv's shirt, clinging to him like he had his coat.
"I did come, Sam," Gene murmured, his voice tinged with sadness, fierce determination smouldering underneath his words, "I stopped him. It's alright, Sammy. It didn't happen. It didn't happen."
"I-it... c-could've," Sam choked, burying his face against his Guv's shoulder, "He... He was going to... I-I couldn't stop him..." words failed him and he slumped against his Guv's front, his body racked with sobs. He felt the strong arms tighten around his slim frame, a hand squeeze his shoulder and he knew he was safe. He let himself melt into the embrace, let himself cling to Gene like a child because it was what he needed. He was scared and he couldn't be strong, not this time. But it was alright. Sam could afford to breakdown today. He could fall to pieces because the Guv was there to hold him together. Even if he couldn't fix him, at least not tonight, he could make sure to keep him from falling apart completely.
Gene had a death grip on Sam, careful to avoid the welts on his back, which he could still see through the thin shirt, seared on to his DI's pale skin. He didn't show any anger though. No, not now, he couldn't, not with Sam crying into his shoulder, with every tremor that ran through him palpable. So, instead of ranting and raging and going down to CID and kicking the living daylights out of Walker, which was what he really wanted to do, he held his crying deputy in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth and promising him it would be alright. He wasn't sure that it would be, but he knew that there wasn't a chance in hell that Walker was getting at his DI again, not with the Gene Genie around.
Sam didn't know how long they were there, clinging to one another, but eventually, his sobs eased away and his eyes, aching with crying, were no longer filled with tears. He slowly disentangled himself from Gene's arms, sniffling, wiping his flushed cheeks with his sleeve. "Sorry, Gene," he mumbled, feeling embarrassed now that he had calmed down. Even though it was what he had needed, he felt embarrassed to know that he had cried all over his Guv, "I-I didn't mean to-"
"Shut up, Tyler," Sam looked up in surprise. He'd seen that look on his face before, anger and sadness mixed in one. He knew Gene didn't show, or tried not to show, any emotion he saw to be a weakness, but sometimes he'd show that part of him, a part few were privy to see, "I told you, you don't have anythin' to be sorry for. Okay?" Sam nodded, gaze returning to the floor, "Say it."
Sam gulped at the command, though Gene didn't soften his gaze, his eyes boring into his DI's. "I-I don't have anything t-to be sorry for," Gene nodded, satisfied and clasped Sam by the shoulder again, "Good," he gave him a small smile, before rising to his feet, helping Sam back onto the bed, like it was the most normal thing to do to be this gentle. Sam was starting to notice how careful Gene was being with him, but the Guv didn't neither seemed to notice or care and Sam certainly wasn't going to complain or point it out. "Right, 'ave you got a suitcase in 'ere, Sammy-boy?"
Sam, thrown by the question, took a moment to reply, "W-what?"
"Do you have a suitcase?"
Sam nodded, "Y-yeah, under my bed," he watched Gene hauled the suitcase out from under his bed, "where am I going?" he asked, staring as Gene tossed clothes into the suitcase.
"Home," was the short reply.
Sam blinked, "Home?"
"Yeah, my home. Doubt you'll be wantin' to spend the night here, will you?" Sam shook his head. He hadn't even thought about going back to sleep. Truth be told, he wasn't really thinking at all right now, so he just let the Guv take care of things, something which he wasn't particularly used to. He watched in silence as his DCI packed him his clothes, tremors rippling through his slim frame. Occasionally, he reached up to wipe at his cheeks, but neither of them acknowledged the movement. Silence descended on them, broken only by the soft rustling of Sam's clothes being packed and the odd sniffle here and there. Knees drawn up to his chest, he watched Gene, eyes never pulling away, allowing his mind to go blank. He didn't want to think about what just happened, didn't want his mind to wander, didn't want the ghost hands of memory to caress his body again- no, no, he didn't want that. Once it was full, Gene shut the suitcase, "Right, now I just need to ring the missus, let 'er know I'm bringing you back."
"Guv, you don't have to... d-don't bother her-"
"It's not botherin' her, Sam," he said, rolling his eyes, "she got up same time I did, chances are she'll still be awake. Just need to let her know your bed needs sortin'."
Sam stared for a minute whilst Gene dialled the number on his phone, "You're looking after me."
Gene paused, before nodding, "Yeah," he murmured, "s'pose I am," he turned to his DI, frown tinged with sorrow, "I reckon you need it though."
...
Sam nearly fell on his way to the car. His knocking knees had given way and his descent to the ground was swift. He was sure if Gene hadn't caught him just in time he would have broken his kneecaps. The suitcase fell to the ground with a loud thud that seemed to echo round the otherwise silent street as the guv swooped down, grabbing his DI before he fell to the pavement. Sam flinched at the noise, his fingers gripping Gene's arms hard as his legs trembled. Two large, firm hands cupped his elbows, a thumb gently rubbing back and forth against his arm.
"You alright, Sammy-boy?" came the gentle-gruff question above him, Gene's short, warm breath blowing gently on his hair.
Sam nodded.
"Can you walk?"
Sam nodded again, yet made no move, staring with unseeing eyes at the pavement.
A sigh above him, "Come on, then," he muttered, heaving Sam up onto his feet. Slinging an arm around his shoulder and placing his own secure one round his DI's waist, Gene managed to pull his stumbling deputy to his car. Once in, he went back and got the suitcase and they were off.
The journey was silent, flashing by quickly to Sam, who was staring out of the window, watching an illuminated Manchester roll by with a listless gaze. His mind had mercifully turned blank, though his frame was still rattled with tremors, tremors which didn't go unnoticed by Gene. Throughout the journey he continually glanced at his DI, though none of looks were returned and he certainly had no plans on breaking the silence. Even if he wanted to, it wasn't as if they had anything to fill the silence with. Small talk was never Gene's strong point and any attempt at conversation would give birth to the biggest fucking elephant in the room which was the fact that Sam had nearly just been raped. It was a topic that would be pretty hard to avoid for either of them, even if it was the one both wanted to talk about least. So Gene continued to drive in silence, wondering what the hell was going through Sam's head and whether he'd actually end up killing Walker if no one was there to stop him.
Sam didn't notice that Gene had pulled up outside his house. He was still staring outside, his gaze blank and unseeing. It was only when a tentative hand shook his shoulder did he jerk awake. He flinched from his touch, head whipping round to find Gene staring at him; he had that look on his face again, that frown. He was worrying about him and Sam was not used to that, or at least he wasn't used to the Guv showing it so plainly and he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that. Maybe if he wasn't so shell shocked and sleep deprived he'd be able to examine his feelings a bit, but as things stood, he decided to leave self examination till the morning.
"Come on," Gene said quietly, jerking his head at the house, "we're here."
Hoping that his knees wouldn't give out again, Sam got out of the Cortina and began heading towards the house, startled when the door opened. Sam had only met Gene's missus once before and even then they had only exchanged a few words, but it was difficult to have a proper conversation whilst trying to drag the Guv out of his house, hungover, moody and extremely late for work, Mrs Hunt pushing and Sam pulling. She had seemed formidable then, but then again, he supposed, you'd have to be made of strong stuff to be married to Gene Hunt. So he was a little surprised to find himself being pulled into a hug, taking him a moment to lift up his arms and return the embrace.
She pulled away, smiling at Sam, "Come on, let's get you inside, it's freezing."
She pulled Sam inside the house, leaving the door open for Gene, who was carrying Sam's suitcase. "Oi, don't I get anythin'?" he asked gruffly, dropping the suitcase in the hall,kicking the door shut.
"Not when you're bloody stomping around like an elephant you don't," she said, rolling her eyes, though she smiled when Gene gave her a kiss on the cheek before he headed to the kitchen. Sam watched the exchange silently. He wasn't used to seeing Gene so... domestic. He'd always known he had a missus, but he had never actually thought about how they'd interact. Now that he could see it in front of him, Gene was just like any other husband. It was a strange yet slightly pleasant thought, that Gene had someone who he could be like this with. It wasn't much wonder why he hadn't brought her to meet the team; this side of him couldn't be shown to men who viewed him as the best and strongest DCI they'd ever worked under and besides, there wasn't any need to show off his wife to some of the horniest men in Manchester. Sam felt rather privileged to see this side to his DCI, who was normally as hard as nails, especially in his work.
"Look, Mrs Hunt, I-"
"Emma."
"Emma... I'm sorry to cause you all of this trouble-"
"It's no trouble, Sam," she said, her voice softening, "really, it isn't," she glanced at the stairs where Gene had disappeared to, "you know he talks about you all the time."
Sam looked at her in disbelief, "What, really?"
Emma smiled, "Yeah. Doubt you'd want to hear all of what he says, but I figured you must be doing him some good to get him to talk about you as much as he does," Sam opened his mouth to speak, only to be pushed gently towards the stairs, "go on, you should go to bed."
Taking a moment to find his voice, he nodded and said, "Thank you, Emma."
He climbed up the stairs, making his way into a lit room where Gene was waiting. Sam went in, sitting down on the bed, looking down at the floor.
"You alright?" he nodded at the question, gaze still on the floor.
"Mrs Hunt's nice."
Gene grinned a little, "Yeah, she is. Still haven't answered the question though."
Sam didn't say anything for a minute or so, before asking, his voice quiet, "Where's Walker?"
"CID, where he belongs," Gene took a step closer to Sam, his DI's head still bowed, "he won't get out again, Sam. I'll make sure of that."
Sam finally looked up, eyes shining, "What if he does?" Gene tried not to wince. He sounded like a frightened child, "What if you're not there next time?"
"There won't be a next time, Sam," Gene said firmly, gripping Sam's shoulder, "that bastard won't leave that cell until trial and then he'll stay in another cell for the rest of his life."
"What if he had done it?"
"Sam-"
"What if you didn't come, Gene? What would you have said?"
Gene raised his eyebrows, "What? To you?" he sighed, pausing for a moment, "I would have said what I've told you already. That there was nothing you could have done. And there's nothing to be sorry for. Guilt complex like yours you probably would have placed the blame on yourself somehow," he rubbed his face with his free hand, "it didn't happen, Sammy. That's not much consolation, but it didn't and if he did try again, I'd do whatever I could to stop him."
"I know you would," Sam whispered.
Gene rubbed Sam's shoulder, "Come on, it's half three. Try and get some sleep, okay?"
Sam nodded. Gene turned and was just about to close the door behind him, before he heard, "Gene?"
He turned, looking at him with tired eyes, "Yeah, Sammy?"
Sam was peering shyly at Gene, his gaze raw and grateful, "Thank you."
Gene gave a small, weary smile, "It's alright, Sam."