Fic: Jabberwocky, Part 5b/?
When Ray and Gene finally burst through the door of CID, everyone stopped and stared at them, some of the younger DC’s staring, wide-eyed, at the blood soaking into Gene’s shirt. He scowled at them, “Don’t you lot have work to do? Chop bloody chop, children! Arses in line!” He stormed into his office, leaving Ray standing by Annie and Chris who were filling out paperwork at two of the desks near the door.
Annie stared expectantly at Ray for a second before hissing at him, “Well?” Chris looked up from the circle he’d been absentmindedly doodling on the corner of a form for more than four hours.
Ray felt all four of their eyes boring into him, and then pulled a chair up between their desks. “Same as what the Gov said on the phone; we can’t see him yet, and we’re going to start taking shifts. Boss’ll be okay, though. He’ll be all right, probably back in here next week, a right old misery and a total tosser about the paperwork and all. He’s just… Gov said he’d be all right; he’s just got to stay in there for a while. Tubes and shite,” Ray added, trying to sound confident.
“So he’ll be okay then?” Annie looked about ready to burst into tears. God, don’t you dare cry, you bitch, Ray thought, staring at her large, shining eyes. He’d never be able to keep up his cool if she cried, and he hated it when any woman cried, let alone Cartwright.
“What I just said, you daft bird,” Ray gave her a sneer and then inclined his head towards the papers on her desk. “How’re the forms coming? Everything in order?”
“Yeah. Be a lot easier if I had any help,” Annie glared at Chris as she said this, and Chris just stared down at his paper, working a pencil around in a circle again, very lightly, barely leaving traces of lead behind, just as he had been all night. Ray glared at him along with Annie.
“Christ, Chris, we all know you’re the hero of the bloody hour here, but could you for one bloody second pretend you’ve got a brain in your head and help us with this shite, you useless git?” Ray ripped the report form away from Chris and tossed it at Annie. “See if you can do a better job of it than this div, will you, Cartwright?”
Annie sighed and set about filling in the form, ignoring Ray and Chris completely, desperately trying to keep her mind on the forms, and not on Sam. Chris’ inactivity had been a bit of a boon in that respect - he’d just stared at the form, as if he were trying to look through the desk itself, leaving her with plenty to do to occupy her mind and keep her from thinking about the bloody form on the stretcher, the blood soaking Gene and streaking his face, the blood smeared amongst the hideous torture devices in the warehouse…
“So, you going to try to be a little less of a div and get your act together now that you’re the big hero, Chris?” Ray leaned against the desk, tilting his chair back on two of its legs. Chris gave a slight shrug and continued to stare at the top of the desk.
“You know,” Ray gave a bit of a smile, “Birds love heroes. I bet the second you mention that you’re the reason a serial killer got banged up, and that you saved a group of fellow officers from armed murderers, any girl on the planet would give you a go at the old downstairs inside. Maybe even a full on slip and poke, you know?” He winked at the younger man, but received nothing more than another shrug.
Ray sighed, then decided to try a different tract, “You know, I bet the boss’ll be right proud of you. Gov is, you know that. Soon as we know boss’s all right, they’ll both probably buy all your drinks for a night, and the boss might even get you a tape recorder or carbon paper pad or some other stupid wanky thing that the poxy twonk thinks makes a good gift, just to show you how grateful he is. Bet you anything,” Chris didn’t respond, and Ray was saved from trying to solicit further response from him by the door to Gene’s office banging open, and Gene stepping out.
“Right, gentlemen, and that includes you, Doe Eyes, I want everyone working their cases as usual, Chester, Morris, you’ve still got to get me a result on that blag from Harrison street! I mean it, I want a result in two days, or I’m going to have your testes in a fry up! Everyone else, usual positions, work-pub-sleep-work, wash, rinse, repeat, skip the bloody washing and rinsing if need be. Carling, Cartwright, Skelton, my office, now!” Gene made the declaration, his suit changed out for one of the spare ones that he kept in the back of his office, and then he disappeared back through the door, still working the knot into his tie. Ray, Annie, and Chris followed him in, and then stood around his desk, where he sat, staring alternately at each of their faces and his hands.
Annie fought with all of her will to keep from asking how Sam was, knowing that the answer would come in a minute, and she could feel her whole body begin to tremble with the effort. Ray let his own gaze drift back and forth between Annie, Chris, and Gene, a milder form of Gene’s own expression. Chris stared at the floor, his hands in his pockets.
“We’re taking shifts at the hospital, one of us, at all times, until he wakes up. The only thing that could possibly drag us away is a major crime spree or murder, in which case, we should be out of the hospital, on the street, beating the bloody pulp out of some arsehole nonce blagger and then back at the hospital within an hour’s time. Understood?” The other three nodded in unison.
Gene sighed and ran his hand through his hair, looking back and forth amongst their faces again, wishing that Annie would stare at him a little less and that Chris would stare at him a little more. “So…” He let his voice trail off, then turned to the cupboard behind him, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and four glasses. He set the glasses on the desk and poured each drink, then nodded towards the glasses. Ray reached out and grabbed one immediately, Annie bit her lip and picked one up very hesitantly. Chris stared at the floor again, still not looking up, until Annie brought her heel down upon his toe and gestured at the remaining glass with her own. He quickly grabbed it, a bit of the liquid sloshing up over the side and wetting the back of his hand.
“So… Right…” Gene pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, then offered the pack to the others. Ray and Chris each took one, pulling out their own lighters, and Annie shook her head. Once smoke had begun to curl around the three men, all four of them took a drink, and Gene continued. “He’d just come out of surgery about an hour before I called you, and they’re not letting anyone see him yet. Bloody twats say he’s not stable yet. Got him on one of those breather machines.” He stared down at his drink, then downed the lot and poured himself another. Annie felt her own breath catch in her throat, and worked hard to try to convince herself that it was due to the smoke filling the room.
“Sammy’s a fighter, you all know that. Always running that smug gob of his and dishing it out with me, isn’t he? Right old fighter he is. So he’ll be all right. He got bashed up pretty bad, though, so he might be down for the count for a while.” Gene took a long drag on his cigarette, refusing to meet any of their eyes. “I don’t know if he has any family in the area, and lord knows what type of twisted arseholes could produce such a git as him, but I’m going to ring up at Hyde and ask about ‘em, see if there’s anyone needs notifying. Who knows, Flash-knickers, you might even get to meet his mum,” Gene nodded towards Annie, who tried to smile, and failed miserably.
“Now I don’t want him left alone for one minute, not for one bleeding second, once they say he can have someone with him. Someone’s got to be there to tell him to hurry up and get his smartarsed arse back where it belongs the second he wakes up. I’m taking the first shift,” he cut in as he saw Annie start to open her mouth, “And I reckon Cartwright here will want to be in for the second. Any takers on the third and fourth? I figure about four hours a shift should give us all time to get some sleep and come in here to make sure the rest of that useless lot of tossers haven’t burned the ruddy damned place down.” Gene looked expectantly at Ray and Chris.
Chris was silent, staring at his glass, his cigarette slowly turning into a long column of ash, which was falling on the floor. Ray crinkled his nose in disgust at the younger man, then shook his head. “I’ll take third shift, Gov. Looks like Chris here might want to wait until after the boss’s cleaned up a bit,” he added, a note of contempt in his voice.
“I can take third shift,” Chris said softly, still staring at his glass.
“Well, make up your bleeding minds, you great sods,” Gene shouted, rather more loudly than he’d intended to.
“I’ll take the third shift.” The other three looked up, wide-eyed, at Chris. None of them thought that they’d ever heard him speak so forcefully. He continued to stare intently at the whiskey, then downed the entire lot, feeling his eyes begin to water as it burned down his throat.
Gene nodded appreciatively at the young DC, “Not just growing up in the field, then, Skelton. Good. Nice to see you growing a pair, after all,” he held out the bottle, and Chris hesitated, not knowing what the gesture meant for a few seconds, before stretching out his glass and accepting another glassful.
“Guess that leaves me on the fourth, just before the Gov comes back in,” Ray nodded and took a sip of his own drink, about to down it in one like the other two had, and then thinking better of it. “Be just my luck if the slimy nonce comes to and starts demanding a full forensics report by the time it’s my turn,” he added, trying hard to smile.
“It’s settled, then. Once my second shift is over, tomorrow night, Ray and I will meet with our little friend for a few questions. You’re welcome to be present for that as well, Skelton, if you want to make a tape or some other useless shite,” Gene added.
“Thanks, Gov,” Chris muttered, pulling out his own packet of cigarettes and lighting one, dragging deeply into his lungs.
“Good man,” Gene said. He looked back up at all of them, trying to look into their eyes in turn. “He’s going to be fine,” he added, forcing conviction into his voice, more for his sake than for that of any of the others. “Right. So, I’m heading back there now. Taking his file with me, I’ll call Hyde from there. Cartwright, I’ll see you in four hours. Understood?”
Annie nodded, downing the last of her drink and setting it down on the desk. Ray and Chris followed suit, and the four of them stood and headed once more for the door. Gene stopped when he noticed his coat hanging on the coat rack, blood still staining nearly all of it, and then drew his hand away from it. “Cartwright?” He asked, and Annie turned and leaned her head back inside the door, “Cartwright, Love, could you do something about that coat? The missus will give me a right sad bollocking if I bring it home to her looking like that.”
“Right Gov. Clean the coat, handle the press, finish the paper work. On top of it. And I’ll see you in four hours,” Annie kept her voice flat and even.
“Good, good. Well, chop chop, everyone!” Gene shouted, and then closed the door behind him, grabbing Chris’s arm as the others walked away. “Good work today, DC Skelton,” he added, and then headed for the door. Chris stood glued to the spot, nodding slightly, and then made his own way out of the door, heading towards the restrooms.
Branches and leaves continued to claw relentlessly at Sam, and he continued to run, ankles twisting and arms flung in front of his face, moving as quickly as he could through the steadily thickening wood. The foliage above seemed to clamp down tightly upon him, coming together more closely and slowly blotting out the sky. His foot struck a particularly large and upturned root, and he felt himself propelled forward onto the ground, striking a mud covered log with the side of his face. He groaned in anger and pain as he sat up, rubbing his cheekbone, and began to shout at the sky again.
“I am sick and tired of this shit, and I want it to end NOW! If you can’t take me home, then take me back to CID 1973! On the double! I mean it! I refuse to go another step! What is the bloody meaning of this? I want it over, fucking done with!” Sam started as his screams were met with laughing; the strange, mocking laughter of his double and the squealing of the little girl, joining together like links in some bizarre and twisted chain.
*Beginning to stabilize*
*Tell Mrs. Tyler she can come in now, if she likes*
*Poor woman, no other family, is there?*
*Sister of hers, turns up once in a while*
*That Asian girl, the pretty one, she was turning up, wasn’t she?*
*Think that was the girlfriend. Stopped coming about a month ago*
*Rather sad for her. For the lot of them*
*If we don’t lose him now, they might get him back*
*Temperature’s regulated again. Blood pressure and heart rate are normalizing*
*Keep monitoring O2 stats, kidney function, and all electrolytes. I want full bloods every six hours. Have the tests from the samples taken in surgery come back yet?*
*See for yourself, Baum. Serotonin, dopamine, and acetylcholine levels are all unstable, rapid shifts in the presence of each*
*What the bloody hell…*
*It’s that damned clot again, I want another MRI, how’s his intracranial pressure?*
*Pressure’s too high, we’re going to have to shunt.*
*He wouldn’t be able to take that now.*
*When, then?*
“No, no, no, don’t you dare start with that! I want to hear you say, ‘Oh, it’s all fine, he’s going to wake up tomorrow. Do you hear me? I want to wake up, tomorrow, in reality! I know exactly what reality is! Do you hear me? I know exactly what reality is, and I want to wake up to it right now! Right now! Not tomorrow, now! Damn it, I want to wake the bloody hell up, in my hospital bed, in reality!” Sam was shouting manically at the sky again, except that the sky was blocked out completely, the forest grown dark. Strange noises rustled in the undergrowth and through the trees, and Sam felt himself shiver reflexively at the sound.
“Is that what you want, Sam? You’re so sure?” He heard his own voice, and then saw himself, still wearing his proper, modern suit, one arm around the shoulders of the little girl, who, in turn, had one of her arms around the shoulders of her clown.
“YES! I want reality! I know exactly what it is, and it’s waking up, safe and sound, in my hospital bed, right now!” Sam stared, wide-eyed, at the double and the girl. “Is that it? That’s all I have to say? YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes…” Sam stared at the canopy above, flinging his arms wide. “I’m ready, come on! Bring it on!”
The double and the girl both laughed, and Sam dropped his arms, scowling at them. “Then what? What do I need to do?”
“There’s a lot that you have to do, Sam,” the double winked at him, smiling widely, “But if you really want it to wait, it can. And you really think you know what reality means?”
“YES! Of course I do! It’s, it’s waiting for me, and it’s bright and beautiful and there!” Sam pointed upwards at the dark sky, and a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, sliding slowly through the trees.
“You’re right, you know, Sam, but you’re also so very wrong. And I’m still here, waiting for you to complete everything that you need to complete. Until then, though, you can wake up, in your hospital bed, and call that reality. I can give that to you,” the double smiled, a sickeningly sweet, high grin.
“Yes, yes, now!” Sam was practically jumping up and down. The double cocked its head to the side, still holding its arm around the little girl, and she mimicked him, a frightening little mirror image. Sam felt his stomach begin to knot.
“When this is all over, Sam, you’ll really know about reality, and about right and wrong. But it takes time. Time and time and snicker-snack,” the little girl started repeating her last sentence with an eerily whimsical, sing-song voice. “Time and time and snicker-snack, time and time and snicker-snack,” and Sam had to struggle not to clamp his hands over his ears.
“We’re here, Sam, waiting for you, waiting under the Tumtum tree, you see. But we can keep waiting. Until you’re ready. For now… Just make it out of this part of the tulgey woods. That’s all you have to do. Run, Sam. Run and run and run until you wake up, in your hospital room, with people who love you and care about you speaking to you while you sleep. We’ll be around, to make sure you keep your end of the bargain.” The double pointed towards the forest, looming large and dark, clusters of tree trunks thicker than men, stretching upwards and blotting out the sun. This time, the thunder was louder, a deep, roiling flow of sound bubbling up between the trees.
“Yeah, yeah, all right. If that’s what it takes,” Sam took a deep breath, and continued to run, naked, sore and scratched, through the dense forest.