Fic: Steady As She Goes (42/86), Blue Cortina, dakfinv
Title: Steady As She Goes (42/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1953 this part; [78,439 overall]
Summary for Whole: After an accidental shooting at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart while his and Sam's friendship is pushed to the limits.
Summary this Part: Saturday continued...
Rating: still Blue-ish Cortina, uhm, what's slightly darker than blue?
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, violent imagery, minor drug use, mild sexual situations, self-harm for whole
Spoilers: none here; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Uhm, really no notes this time. Enjoy!
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
Annie finished the sentence she was on, set aside her book, and reluctantly went to answer her door. "Who is it?" She called out.
"DS Carling," came the rough voice from the other side.
A few choice words ran through Annie’s mind as she pulled herself together and unlocked the door. She opened it barely a crack. "I said I was fine," she spat out before Ray could even say hello.
"I-I know. But...that was last night. I wanted to make sure you were still fine." It was a poor excuse and Ray knew it but the Guv had asked him to check on Cartwright so that’s what he was going to do.
His slightly guilty expression soothed Annie enough for her to open the door wider, allowing Ray to enter. "Come in then."
Ray extinguished his cigarette in the hall then stepped into Annie’s flat. She closed the door behind him, turned, and crossed her arms, waiting for Ray to say something. Ray stood around her living room, hands in his pockets, eyes at his feet, waiting for Annie to say something.
"Well?" Annie broke first. Ray looked up and couldn’t help staring at her swollen lip. As soon as Annie realized what he was gawking at she turned her head away, somehow feeling ashamed. "It wasn’t his fault," she whispered to the wall.
"Oh really? So ‘is fist just accidently ended up in your face then?" The anger he had been unable to control at Gene’s was returning to the surface here at Annie’s.
Annie busied herself with straightening the pillows on her sofa. "It was the drugs. He didn’t mean to."
Ray threw up his arms in disgust. "Why does everyone ‘ave to make excuses for ‘im?"
"It’s not an excuse!" She yelled back.
"Course it is," he scoffed. "It were the drugs, it were the car accident, it were the bloody full moon las’ Tuesday."
Annie rounded on him, jabbing her finger at his chest. "If you hate him so much why’d you convince the Guv to take him out of hospital?"
"I din’t say I wanted ‘im out," Ray refused to back down. "I said I wanted ‘im away from Merrick. Not my fault the Guv figured the only way to do that was to become ‘is bloody nursemaid ‘imself."
"So you wish you’d never told him anything?"
"I din’t...no. But...what if ‘e does summit stupid again? What if ‘e hurts you again?"
"He won’t." Even Ray could see how uncertain she was.
"I know the pills were bad, Cartwright. But I also know they’re jus’ bringin’ out things ‘e was already capable of in the firs’ place."
She looked at him in horror. "You can’t believe that," but she knew he did and some part of her had already considered the same thing. As they stood there in silence, Ray felt his welcome had truly been worn out and he made his way to the door.
"Jus’...if you see ‘im again, be careful."
"I am as much a police officer as you, Sergeant."
Ray said nothing. He hadn’t the strength to argue with her on that point. Besides, he already knew it was true. "Chris an’ I are grabbin’ some dinner later. New curry place near the Arms. If you wanted to come."
"I’ll think about it," she stated firmly. Ray nodded and left her alone with her Jane Austen, but even her favorite novel couldn’t distract from the nagging voice in the back of her mind. A voice that kept whispering Ray was right.
*
At some point between discovering a fondness for smoking and picking at the late lunch Gene had prepared for him, Sam had slipped back into a vacant state. Gene had noticed Tyler was responding to his questions with less and less effort until he stopped saying anything at all. Gene had thought this might happen. He’d noticed it the few times Stu had tried to clean up (and always failed). He decided to remain unconcerned. Mood swings were part and parcel of the whole Tyler package. These were just going to be a little stronger is all.
Gene cleared the table, tossing the dishes in the sink with the same care he showed towards suspects and paperwork. "Match of the day comin’ up. Want to watch?"
Sam was concentrating on standing a cigarette up on end, frustrated that it kept falling over.
"Bit early in the habit for you to be chain smoking, innit?"
Sam ignored him.
"Right." Gene stomped over to the table and pulled Sam up by his shirt. It looked violent but Gene knew exactly how much strength to apply. "Here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to give me an answer." He drew Sam closer, their faces just inches apart. "Now I don’t care if that answer is one word or longer than the collected works of Billy Shakespeare but I expect it to be spoken, I expect it to be English, an’ I expect it to come outta your bloody mouth, got it Sunshine?" Sam refused to answer so Gene shook him. Just a little. "That counted as a question. So, got it Sunshine?"
"Y-yes," Sam mumbled.
Gene set him back down in the chair. "Good. So, telly. Yes or no."
"No," Sam pouted.
"Fine. Bloody United fan anyway. What do you know about football?"
"Beckham’s overrated."
"Who?" Sam refused to enlighten him. "That was a rhetorical question anyway." Gene was about to storm out of the kitchen then remembered Sam was still in there. "You just goin’ to play in here all day or what?" Sam kept toying with the cigarette. "That was not rhetorical."
" ‘M thinking."
"Should have me answer by the next millenia then." Sam kept staring at the table. This wasn’t good. He wasn’t getting a rise out of Tyler like he had earlier. "Well hurry up. Game’s about to start."
"I want to sleep."
"Good. Prob’ly best for us both you get a few hours kip." Gene started to help him up, but Sam pushed him away.
"I want to do it myself."
Gene backed away. "Fine by me." As hard and unconcerned as his face appeared, inside it took every ounce of his willpower not to help his struggling DI rise from the table and stumble out of the kitchen. Sam was still shaking but it was noticeably better than earlier that afternoon. Maybe Tyler had been right about the smoking. Well, there was a first time for everything.
After a few painful minutes, Sam stood at the bottom of the staircase. Gene instinctively reached out to help but Sam violently shoved him away. "No! Go away."
Gene crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Fine. You break your head open don’t come cryin’ to me." If watching Sam walk from the kitchen to the stairs was hard, having to stand by and watch him climb the stairs alone was torture. Every time he stumbled or nearly missed a step, Gene had to stop himself from running up after him. By the grace of God, Sam managed to reach the top landing. Gene let out a sigh of relief as Tyler disappeared from sight, meaning he was too far away to fall down the stairs.
"I’ll just keep it down then for yeh, shall I Princess?" Gene thought he heard some derogatory words in response and went to his living room, settling in for the match.
*
It was just getting into the second half when the screaming started.
"Sam?" Gene leapt from his chair, bounded up the stairs, and flung open the door. The first thing that hit him was the smell. He staggered backwards, covering his nose with his hand. He was about to demand an answer when he remembered what sent him up here to begin with. He couldn’t see Sam at first so he ran to the other side of the bed. Next to some god awful stain on his wife’s pristine white carpet was Sam cowering on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, hands clasped to his face, sobbing.
"Jesus," Gene whispered, braving the smell and leaning down to check on his DI. He placed a hand on his shoulder but Sam didn’t seem to notice. "Sam? What happened?" Sam rocked back and forth not even trying to stop the tears. Gene’s stomach twisted in knots. This was exactly the behavior that had caused him to call Merrick. He couldn’t let him slip away again. "Sam? C’mon. Talk to me, Tyler. What is it?"
Sam lowered his arms and hugged them around his body. "TV. She came out of the TV. She followed me here."
"There isn’t a telly in here."
Sam looked around the room. "It...there was. I saw it."
"How many TV’s d’you think I can afford, Tyler?"
" ‘S not safe. Not safe here. She found me here."
"C’mon. Let’s get you up."
Sam didn’t fight this time and allowed himself to be lifted off the floor. Gene had him standing when Sam felt his stomach cramp. "Toilet. Now."
Gene needn’t be told twice and to avoid an apparent repeat of an earlier incident, he quickly half-carried, half-dragged Sam to the bathroom, the pair barely making it in time as Sam flung himself at the bowl, spilling out what little was in him. After a few extra dry heaves, the cramps eased. Sam reached up and flushed, then collapsed his head and arms on the seat.
"Better?" Gene asked from his position by the sink.
"Yeah." After a few deep breathes, Sam slid off the bowl and leaned against the wall. "Nightmare...Just a nightmare. Sorry. Over-overreacted."
"What about?"
Sam shook his head. "Not important."
"Was it about Cartwright?" Who else could the she be, Gene wondered.
"Not this time," Sam whispered.
"Well, had a nightmare, must mean you slept."
Sam smiled. He actually smiled and it completely threw Gene off guard. "Yeah. Guess it does."
Gene pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. "Want one?" Sam thought a moment, then held out his hand. Gene lit two and handed one over. "If you’re going to keep this up you’ll have to start lightin’ em yourself. Can’t be your own personal matchbook yeh know." He watched Sam relax as he took a deep drag.
"I don’t plan on doing this for long."
"That’s what Skelton said." Gene always knew he was a bad influence. He flicked his ash in the sink then turned back to Sam. Something was bothering him. Something that had been eating away at him since he returned from the shop. Copper’s intuition. "How’d you know?" He asked quietly.
"Hm?"
"Valium. How’d you know? Memory certainly hasn’t been up to scratch lately."
Sam looked exhausted as he closed his eyes and let the cigarette burn down in his hands. "Dr. Merrick told me."
"When? In hospital?"
"When I called him."
"You did what?" Gene nearly swallowed his fag.
"I had to know. I had...this afternoon...We only talked."
"That brain-draining ponce nearly throws you in the funny farm and you go and call him?"
"He..."
"He’s the reason you’re over here sleepin’ in my jammies, sickin’ up your lunches, an’ seein’ invisible telly’s!"
"I...needed to talk," Sam responded meekly.
"Well I hope that’s outta your system quicker than those drugs." Gene bellowed, but he did not like that look in Sam’s eye. There was something Sam wasn’t telling him. "What," he ordered. Sam looked anywhere but at Gene. "What else did you say to him Tyler?"
"He’s coming to see me. Over here. Tomorrow..."
Gene’s fist cracked the wall and Sam knew he was going to be next.
_____
Part 43
Author: dak
Word Count: 1953 this part; [78,439 overall]
Summary for Whole: After an accidental shooting at the station, Gene struggles to keep his team from tearing themselves apart while his and Sam's friendship is pushed to the limits.
Summary this Part: Saturday continued...
Rating: still Blue-ish Cortina, uhm, what's slightly darker than blue?
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, violent imagery, minor drug use, mild sexual situations, self-harm for whole
Spoilers: none here; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Uhm, really no notes this time. Enjoy!
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
Annie finished the sentence she was on, set aside her book, and reluctantly went to answer her door. "Who is it?" She called out.
"DS Carling," came the rough voice from the other side.
A few choice words ran through Annie’s mind as she pulled herself together and unlocked the door. She opened it barely a crack. "I said I was fine," she spat out before Ray could even say hello.
"I-I know. But...that was last night. I wanted to make sure you were still fine." It was a poor excuse and Ray knew it but the Guv had asked him to check on Cartwright so that’s what he was going to do.
His slightly guilty expression soothed Annie enough for her to open the door wider, allowing Ray to enter. "Come in then."
Ray extinguished his cigarette in the hall then stepped into Annie’s flat. She closed the door behind him, turned, and crossed her arms, waiting for Ray to say something. Ray stood around her living room, hands in his pockets, eyes at his feet, waiting for Annie to say something.
"Well?" Annie broke first. Ray looked up and couldn’t help staring at her swollen lip. As soon as Annie realized what he was gawking at she turned her head away, somehow feeling ashamed. "It wasn’t his fault," she whispered to the wall.
"Oh really? So ‘is fist just accidently ended up in your face then?" The anger he had been unable to control at Gene’s was returning to the surface here at Annie’s.
Annie busied herself with straightening the pillows on her sofa. "It was the drugs. He didn’t mean to."
Ray threw up his arms in disgust. "Why does everyone ‘ave to make excuses for ‘im?"
"It’s not an excuse!" She yelled back.
"Course it is," he scoffed. "It were the drugs, it were the car accident, it were the bloody full moon las’ Tuesday."
Annie rounded on him, jabbing her finger at his chest. "If you hate him so much why’d you convince the Guv to take him out of hospital?"
"I din’t say I wanted ‘im out," Ray refused to back down. "I said I wanted ‘im away from Merrick. Not my fault the Guv figured the only way to do that was to become ‘is bloody nursemaid ‘imself."
"So you wish you’d never told him anything?"
"I din’t...no. But...what if ‘e does summit stupid again? What if ‘e hurts you again?"
"He won’t." Even Ray could see how uncertain she was.
"I know the pills were bad, Cartwright. But I also know they’re jus’ bringin’ out things ‘e was already capable of in the firs’ place."
She looked at him in horror. "You can’t believe that," but she knew he did and some part of her had already considered the same thing. As they stood there in silence, Ray felt his welcome had truly been worn out and he made his way to the door.
"Jus’...if you see ‘im again, be careful."
"I am as much a police officer as you, Sergeant."
Ray said nothing. He hadn’t the strength to argue with her on that point. Besides, he already knew it was true. "Chris an’ I are grabbin’ some dinner later. New curry place near the Arms. If you wanted to come."
"I’ll think about it," she stated firmly. Ray nodded and left her alone with her Jane Austen, but even her favorite novel couldn’t distract from the nagging voice in the back of her mind. A voice that kept whispering Ray was right.
*
At some point between discovering a fondness for smoking and picking at the late lunch Gene had prepared for him, Sam had slipped back into a vacant state. Gene had noticed Tyler was responding to his questions with less and less effort until he stopped saying anything at all. Gene had thought this might happen. He’d noticed it the few times Stu had tried to clean up (and always failed). He decided to remain unconcerned. Mood swings were part and parcel of the whole Tyler package. These were just going to be a little stronger is all.
Gene cleared the table, tossing the dishes in the sink with the same care he showed towards suspects and paperwork. "Match of the day comin’ up. Want to watch?"
Sam was concentrating on standing a cigarette up on end, frustrated that it kept falling over.
"Bit early in the habit for you to be chain smoking, innit?"
Sam ignored him.
"Right." Gene stomped over to the table and pulled Sam up by his shirt. It looked violent but Gene knew exactly how much strength to apply. "Here’s how it’s going to work. I’m going to ask you a question and you’re going to give me an answer." He drew Sam closer, their faces just inches apart. "Now I don’t care if that answer is one word or longer than the collected works of Billy Shakespeare but I expect it to be spoken, I expect it to be English, an’ I expect it to come outta your bloody mouth, got it Sunshine?" Sam refused to answer so Gene shook him. Just a little. "That counted as a question. So, got it Sunshine?"
"Y-yes," Sam mumbled.
Gene set him back down in the chair. "Good. So, telly. Yes or no."
"No," Sam pouted.
"Fine. Bloody United fan anyway. What do you know about football?"
"Beckham’s overrated."
"Who?" Sam refused to enlighten him. "That was a rhetorical question anyway." Gene was about to storm out of the kitchen then remembered Sam was still in there. "You just goin’ to play in here all day or what?" Sam kept toying with the cigarette. "That was not rhetorical."
" ‘M thinking."
"Should have me answer by the next millenia then." Sam kept staring at the table. This wasn’t good. He wasn’t getting a rise out of Tyler like he had earlier. "Well hurry up. Game’s about to start."
"I want to sleep."
"Good. Prob’ly best for us both you get a few hours kip." Gene started to help him up, but Sam pushed him away.
"I want to do it myself."
Gene backed away. "Fine by me." As hard and unconcerned as his face appeared, inside it took every ounce of his willpower not to help his struggling DI rise from the table and stumble out of the kitchen. Sam was still shaking but it was noticeably better than earlier that afternoon. Maybe Tyler had been right about the smoking. Well, there was a first time for everything.
After a few painful minutes, Sam stood at the bottom of the staircase. Gene instinctively reached out to help but Sam violently shoved him away. "No! Go away."
Gene crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Fine. You break your head open don’t come cryin’ to me." If watching Sam walk from the kitchen to the stairs was hard, having to stand by and watch him climb the stairs alone was torture. Every time he stumbled or nearly missed a step, Gene had to stop himself from running up after him. By the grace of God, Sam managed to reach the top landing. Gene let out a sigh of relief as Tyler disappeared from sight, meaning he was too far away to fall down the stairs.
"I’ll just keep it down then for yeh, shall I Princess?" Gene thought he heard some derogatory words in response and went to his living room, settling in for the match.
*
It was just getting into the second half when the screaming started.
"Sam?" Gene leapt from his chair, bounded up the stairs, and flung open the door. The first thing that hit him was the smell. He staggered backwards, covering his nose with his hand. He was about to demand an answer when he remembered what sent him up here to begin with. He couldn’t see Sam at first so he ran to the other side of the bed. Next to some god awful stain on his wife’s pristine white carpet was Sam cowering on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, hands clasped to his face, sobbing.
"Jesus," Gene whispered, braving the smell and leaning down to check on his DI. He placed a hand on his shoulder but Sam didn’t seem to notice. "Sam? What happened?" Sam rocked back and forth not even trying to stop the tears. Gene’s stomach twisted in knots. This was exactly the behavior that had caused him to call Merrick. He couldn’t let him slip away again. "Sam? C’mon. Talk to me, Tyler. What is it?"
Sam lowered his arms and hugged them around his body. "TV. She came out of the TV. She followed me here."
"There isn’t a telly in here."
Sam looked around the room. "It...there was. I saw it."
"How many TV’s d’you think I can afford, Tyler?"
" ‘S not safe. Not safe here. She found me here."
"C’mon. Let’s get you up."
Sam didn’t fight this time and allowed himself to be lifted off the floor. Gene had him standing when Sam felt his stomach cramp. "Toilet. Now."
Gene needn’t be told twice and to avoid an apparent repeat of an earlier incident, he quickly half-carried, half-dragged Sam to the bathroom, the pair barely making it in time as Sam flung himself at the bowl, spilling out what little was in him. After a few extra dry heaves, the cramps eased. Sam reached up and flushed, then collapsed his head and arms on the seat.
"Better?" Gene asked from his position by the sink.
"Yeah." After a few deep breathes, Sam slid off the bowl and leaned against the wall. "Nightmare...Just a nightmare. Sorry. Over-overreacted."
"What about?"
Sam shook his head. "Not important."
"Was it about Cartwright?" Who else could the she be, Gene wondered.
"Not this time," Sam whispered.
"Well, had a nightmare, must mean you slept."
Sam smiled. He actually smiled and it completely threw Gene off guard. "Yeah. Guess it does."
Gene pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. "Want one?" Sam thought a moment, then held out his hand. Gene lit two and handed one over. "If you’re going to keep this up you’ll have to start lightin’ em yourself. Can’t be your own personal matchbook yeh know." He watched Sam relax as he took a deep drag.
"I don’t plan on doing this for long."
"That’s what Skelton said." Gene always knew he was a bad influence. He flicked his ash in the sink then turned back to Sam. Something was bothering him. Something that had been eating away at him since he returned from the shop. Copper’s intuition. "How’d you know?" He asked quietly.
"Hm?"
"Valium. How’d you know? Memory certainly hasn’t been up to scratch lately."
Sam looked exhausted as he closed his eyes and let the cigarette burn down in his hands. "Dr. Merrick told me."
"When? In hospital?"
"When I called him."
"You did what?" Gene nearly swallowed his fag.
"I had to know. I had...this afternoon...We only talked."
"That brain-draining ponce nearly throws you in the funny farm and you go and call him?"
"He..."
"He’s the reason you’re over here sleepin’ in my jammies, sickin’ up your lunches, an’ seein’ invisible telly’s!"
"I...needed to talk," Sam responded meekly.
"Well I hope that’s outta your system quicker than those drugs." Gene bellowed, but he did not like that look in Sam’s eye. There was something Sam wasn’t telling him. "What," he ordered. Sam looked anywhere but at Gene. "What else did you say to him Tyler?"
"He’s coming to see me. Over here. Tomorrow..."
Gene’s fist cracked the wall and Sam knew he was going to be next.
_____
Part 43