Fic: Steady As She Goes (9/86)
Title: Steady As She Goes (9/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1989
Summary: Gene gets angry.
Rating: Blue Cortina
Warnings: angst, mild swearing, just a hint of maybe disturbing imagery in this bit
Parings: a little Sam/Annie moment
Disclaimer: If I did own it, which I don't, I'd compile all the best fanfic and put in a book and sell it and give the various authors money for their excellent work. But I don't. So I can't.
A/N: I initially started writing this because I wanted to try my hand at a short fic. Now it's longer than my ficathon fic and still going. How'd that work?
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 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61 Part 62 Part 63 Part 64 Part 65 Part 66 Part 67 Part 68 Part 69 Part 70 Part 71 Part 72 Part 73 Part 74 Part 75 Part 76 Part 77 Part 78 Part 79 Part 80 Part 81 Part 82 Part 83 Part 84 Part 85 Part 86
“Cartwright! Did I, or did I not, tell you not to piss me off!”
Annie almost bit off the pen she was nibbling as Gene exploded through CID’s doors, nearly taking them off their hinges. The other detectives she had been chatting with slowly backed away until Annie was left standing alone in the center of CID with Gene bearing down upon her. Annie had never felt so small as the Guv, hands on his hops, pure rage seeping out of every pore, marched towards her.
Annie gulped. “You did Guv.” When did her voice get so tiny and quiet?
“Then could you explain to me, Super Tits, why you felt the urge to run your gob at Jackie Queen!”
Annie realized she would need to get her WPC uniform dry cleaned. It had started collecting dust while at the back of her closet. “I...”
“Rathbone jus’ ripped off me scrotum an’ shoved it up me arse because Litton went to ‘im crying’ like the Baby Cham drinkin’ git he is cos apparently Jackie somehow got wind of Chris’ shooting!”
Her sister had invited her over next weekend to see the kids. Annie wondered if that invitation would extend for a week or two. “He said it was my fault, Litton...”
“No! He blamed me! Din’t even know were you involved. That sweet, smart, little Annie Cartwright would do something so incredibly, outrageously, unbelievably DAFT!”
Annie broke the pen she was holding in half. “But you knew it was me.”
“Course I knew! I am a bloody detective! Chris din’t sneak out of surgery for a phone call. Tyler was too busy changin’ his blood into scotch an’ gettin’ caught up in murder. An’ Ray’s too much of a div to even think it up in the firs’ place!”
Annie stole a quick breath and let it out slowly as Gene directed his tirade at the rest of the staff. “You lot are the worst bunch of useless, shirt liftin’ tossers I’ve ever seen! One man gets shot an’ suddenly you turn into the Selfish Bastards Club! Not one of you, a single one, has given me excuse not to put your sorry arses on Tufty duty! Permamently!” Gene kicked a metal bin, sending it flying across the room, narrowly missing Ray’s head. “I want you all, out of my station, now!”
No one moved, or could move.
“Was that not clear enough? MOVE IT!”
Everyone rushed to grab their coats and cigarettes, heads bent low, avoiding eye contact with the Guv.
“An’ don’t let me find you at the Arms neither!” Gene bellowed after them as they filed out the door.
Annie was the last to leave and as she closed the door she could hear Gene tearing the room to shreds.
*
Sam looked better, she thought as she gently smoothed down his hair. A bit more color in his cheeks. His face even looked relaxed for once, not scrunched up in thought or anger or pain. She was glad he was still asleep. He couldn’t tell that she’d been crying.
“I’ve really messed things up, Sam,” Annie whispered, squeezing his hand. “Guv’ll have me back in uniform tomorrow. And when you wake up he’ll probably give you all kinds of grief for givin’ a woman a man’s job...I jus’ wanted to thank you for givin’ me a chance, though. None of the other men ‘round here would’ve even bothered. Maybe you are from the future, hm? Or maybe you jus’ have loads of women officers in Hyde.”
Sam mumbled in his sleep and turned his head. Annie adjusted the pillow, hoping to make him more comfortable.
“I jus’...I wanted to do something for Chris. I felt so useless. Not being there when it happened. Not being able to work the case. I can’t stand jus’ waiting for him to wake up.”
Sam twisted again, now in painful sleep, and grabbed Annie’s hand. His words were louder now, more distressed, but still unclear. Annie stroked his forehead with her fingers and held his hand tight.
“Shh. Shh. It’s alright, Sam. Just a dream. It’ll be okay...I’m sorry I let you down.”
Sam’s body slowly stilled and Annie stayed until she was sure the nightmare was over.
*
Ray walked with his old dog down a local street. He’d gone to see Chris right after the Guv’s intense verbal beating. The Skelton’s had still been there. His dad had gone out and bought some flowers for him. Ray said they looked nice, though he thought they were a bit girly, even for Chris. Of course, what else would he put by his bed? His mum probably wouldn’t appreciate this month’s “Just Jugs” centerfold pinned up next to her little boy’s head.
After promising Mr. and Mrs. Skelton that he’d keep checking on Chris as long as they would go home and get some sleep, Ray had left St. Mary’s, got a pint at his local (the Railway Arms currently being off limits), and decided to take his dog for a walk. With the world going to hell, it was nice of Manchester to provide him a clear, rain-free evening.
“C’mon, Jack. Out of it,” Ray called to the dog as it sniffed out an empty bag of crisps. The dog immediately obeyed and trotted back to Ray’s side. “Jus’ like Chris, aren’t yeh? Can’t keep your nose outta food.”
Old Jack barked and nudged his nose against Ray’s hand, wanting his master to throw the rubber ball Ray had brought along. Ray smiled. “Oh, is this what you want?” He teased the dog, holding the ball just up and out of Jack’s reach. Jack barked and jumped with excitement, displaying more energy than his age would suggest.
“Alright then. Go get it.” Ray lobbed the ball down the street and waited patiently as Jack sniffed it out and brought it back. At the dog’s orders Ray threw it again. He frowned as Jack successfully fetched it yet again.
It wasn’t fair that everything felt so peaceful when there was so much going to shit.
*
“One more, Nelson.”
“Anything for you DCI Hunt.”
Nelson pulled Gene another pint and took his empty glass.
“Figure I owe you for bannin’ half your clients.” Gene dropped some coins on the counter and started sipping his fresh pint. Even though it was prime pub time the Railway Arms was empty save Gene and Nelson.
“Things that bad, eh?”
“Worse.”
“You want to talk about it, mon brave?”
Gene sighed. “What’d be the point?”
Nelson wiped a pint glass. “Hey, I’m a barman. My job wouldn’t be half as interesting if I didn’t listen to people’s troubles.”
Gene didn’t reply, running his finger over the rim of his glass. Nelson waited for Gene to say something else, but he didn’t. He just finished his pint and threw some extra pounds down on the counter.
“Best get home to the missus,” was all he said as he left the pub.
*
It was dark, so very dark and cold. Dark, cold, and wet. But it wasn’t night, was it? No, no it couldn’t be. Not yet. It was too early. Too early for it to be this dark. Eyes. His eyes were closed. That was why it was dark. What about cold and wet? He tried to open his eyes. It was hard. They hurt. His eyes actually hurt. His vision was blurry. Everything was still dark. But he could see two men. No. Three? Two. Three. Four. He couldn’t tell. They were yelling. They were angry. No. Some were angry. Some were scared. It was raining. That explained the wet. He was low, below the men. Four. Five. Maybe six men? No. Three. Two or three. If they stopped moving he could count them.
He tried to crawl up to the men. Stop the yelling. Stop the fighting. He climbed and crawled, but he couldn’t reach them. It was raining so hard. The men. They saw him. Now they were close. Coming to him. Closing in.
“You did a bad thing, Sam.”
He turned his head to see the only thing that came in clearly. A small blonde girl in a bright red dress. He looked at his hands. They were covered in blood. The rain turned to blood. He was covered in blood. Nothing else was covered in blood. Only him.
“A very bad thing.”
*
Sam sat straight up, covered in sweat. A nurse ran to his side, trying to calm him. It was only when she told him to be quiet that he realized he was screaming.
“It’s fine, sir. Everything’s fine. You’re in hospital. You have a concussion, remember?”
Sam pressed his hands over his eyes, trying to clear from his memory the images of angry men and evil little girls and sticky blood.
“Sometimes, with a head injury like yours, people get bad dreams.”
“It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory.” Sam whispered, hands still covering his eyes. The nurse kept trying to lay him back down.
“Well, it’s all over now, innit? It’s late. If you don’t get enough sleep the doctor won’t let you go in the morning.”
“Chris. Chris Skelton. What room is he in?”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t know ‘im. I’d have to look it up.”
“Do it. I want to see him.”
“You can’t, Mr. Tyler. You need to stay in bed.”
Sam swung his legs over the bed. “I need to see Chris Skelton.”
“Sir, please...”
Sam stood up, his legs weak and shaking, chest throbbing, and tried to walk away from the bed only to have his arm scream in pain. He was still connected to the IV. They didn’t have the nice IV stands like in 2006, the kind a patient could roll with him down the hall. So, Sam did the next logical thing and simply removed the IV on his own.
“Sir! You can’t, you can’t do that!”
“Clearly, I already did. Now, I’m going to find Chris Skelton, and then I’ll be back, and you can hook me up to as much medieval hospital equipment you can find. But first, I’m going to find my officer.”
Sam hobbled out of the ward leaning on whatever his hands could find for support. The nurse ran to her station and picked up the phone. “Cheryl? I need you to get Dr. Sussman up here now. One of his patients is wandering.” She looked over the hospital notes on Sam. “And call a DCI Hunt. It says he wanted to be informed the moment Mr. Tyler woke up...Yes, even if it was three in the morning.”
It didn’t take Sam long to find Chris. He had followed the signs to ICU and soon located the right room. It was the actual getting there that had been an issue. His stiff body immediately collapsed into one of the chairs by Chris’ bed.
As he looked his DC over Sam was relieved to see Chris look better than the last time he saw him. He still looked like crap, but he was no longer bleeding to death in Sam’s arms, which was a major improvement. The fact that Chris was now breathing on his own was also a good sign.
“Chris. Chris I-I don’t know if you can hear me. Maybe you can. Sometimes I can hear them...But, I wanted you to know I’m...you need to hang in there. Station’s falling apart without you. Canteen might go out of business. Nobody eats half as much as you. And you’re the only one who can keep Ray in line. God knows how you manage that…Just, get better alright? I’ll have a butty and a pint waiting for you when you’re ready.”
Sam pat Chris’ hand, then braced himself for the walk back to his own bed. He started to stand, but almost immediately fell back in his chair.
“...Boss?”
_____
Part 10