Fic: Steady As She Goes (43/86), Blue Cortina, dakfinv
Title: Steady As She Goes (43/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1842 this part; [80,281 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: And Saturday continues even further
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, Gene/missus
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: It's been a rough past two days and writing this was very therapeutic. I'm going to be MIA Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but I hope to have at least one more part posted before I disappear.
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
"I stuck my neck out for you!" Gene bellowed as Sam cowered by the toilet. "Everything. Everything I’ve done for you!" His fist cracked the wall again sending a dusting of plaster drifting down on Sam’s head. "And you just...Don’t you realize what he did to you?" Sam stared blankly at the floor. "Answer me!" Gene grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He’d ordered Tyler to speak when spoken to. He was going to be obeyed. "You’re in my house, eating my food, sleeping under my roof. I expect you to bloody well answer me when I’m talking to you!" He struck Sam once above the eye. Sam didn’t respond. Gene raised his fist again, ready to land another heavy blow.
But he stopped, his fist hanging precariously in mid-air. What was he doing? He looked down. Let the choleric fury clear and really looked down. While one hand was in the air waiting to strike, the other was clenched around Sam’s collar, pulling Tyler forward. Sam himself was limp in Gene’s hands, crouched on the floor, limbs hanging loosely, eyes blank, a little trail of blood dripping down his cheek.
Gene dropped him in disgust and backed away. Sam didn’t move, just sat next to the toilet, staring at nothing. What was he doing? He and Tyler came to blows all the time. That was fine. That was natural. That was when Sam could fight back. What was he doing? Sam was defenseless, his mind and body still piecing itself together. What was he doing? He had been so ready to hurt him again, but for what?
He looked back at Sam, still motionless on the floor. That look. Gene knew that look and it had nothing to do with the Valium. Sam had felt he was in danger and, unable to fight back, retreated the only place he could: himself, deep into his mind where he would feel no pain. And Gene had put him there.
Sam didn’t watch as his Guv tore out of the room or hear as he careened down the stairs or care as he ran out of the house.
*
"Don’t believe it."
" ‘M tellin’ yeh the truth."
"But...’s just....not like him at all, is it?" Chris poked at his chips. He hadn’t gone to the pub at all last night, even though he said he was. Well, he had planned on it, but soon as he got to his car he just didn’t feel well and didn’t want to push it. So, he’d gone straight home. He had missed the excitement when Annie had apparently arrived at the Arms and asked to speak to the Guv outside. He needed more vinegar.
He took the bottle from Ray and doused his chips. "But...he was fine when I was there. Kind of quiet, like. But no trouble."
"Well summit changed after you left. Cartwright didn’t knock herself out." Ray munched down a chip while Chris scoffed.
"He din’t knock her out."
"Same difference," Ray shrugged.
"He slapped her."
"You weren’t there."
"Neither were you." Chris was getting angry now. If only he’d stayed with Annie...
"So it’s okay for ‘im to slap ‘er around a little long as she stays awake for it?"
Chris pushed himself away from the table. "Oh c’mon, Ray. You know that’s not what I meant."
"Sorry," Ray grimaced. Chris pulled himself back to table and the two ate in silence. Chris had been planning on getting some dinner with Ray tonight but was a bit surprised when the Sergeant had showed up at his door around one, asking to grab some lunch. If to gloat over Sam’s condition was what Ray had in mind, Chris wanted nothing to do with it.
"Are you?" Chris finally asked.
"Am I what?" Ray asked confused, a soggy chip halfway to his mouth.
"Sorry. ‘Bout what happened to the Boss." Chris tried to read the greasy newsprint wrapped around his food.
Ray threw down his chip. "Why does everyone think I hate ‘im?"
"You do," Chris muttered.
"But, why does everyone think I wanted summit like this to happen? What kinda person you think I am?" Ray was gesticulating wildly now, drawing the attention of the other customers.
While Ray’s voice kept getting louder, Chris’ kept becoming softer. "What kinda person do you think he is? Think he’d want to hurt Annie? Think he’d want to hurt any of us?"
"I don’t know what kinda person he is, Chris, cos I don’ really know ‘im at all. None of us do."
"He’s been here for months. How can you say you know nowt about him?" Chris couldn’t eat anymore. He’d completely lost his appetite and didn’t think he’d find it anytime soon. "Things he’s done for us. For the Guv. His...his actions. That should be enough to tell us what kinda person he is."
Ray, too, no longer felt hungry. He pushed his chips aside. "You come up with that all on your own?"
" ‘S how me dad starts his war stories."
Ray couldn’t help smile. Neither could Chris. Soon both of them were laughing and digging back into their chips.
"Guess your dad has a point. Yeh div." Ray said and Chris smiled.
*
"You have to stop getting into fights," Ruth scolded as she dabbed at a cut just above Sammy’s eyes. "You’re a big man now. Big men don’t solve their problems with their fists."
"Yeaheyo..." he mumbled.
"Sammy?"
"Yes they do," he grumbled, not meeting his mother’s gaze.
Ruth frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "Now who told you that?" Sammy just shrugged. "Sam Tyler I asked you a question," she voiced sternly but gently at the same time, the way only a mother could.
"Robby Rayner’s dad."
"Well..." Ruth hesitated. "He was wrong. Why would you listen to Robby’s dad in the first place?"
"Cos I can’t find me own." Sammy immediately felt ashamed. He never liked to bring up dad in front of mum. It always made her so sad. He hated it when she was sad and hated it even more when he was the one that had caused it.
"Sam?" He steeled himself and looked up. Her eyes were bright and sad but this time they were sad for him. "Why don’t we get you into bed and I’ll bring you a nice warm meal, hm?"
Sammy smiled. He was glad his mother was here. He didn’t want to admit it but this fight had scared him. All he’d wanted was to see her, even though he knew he’d be in trouble, and now here she was. All to himself. She helped him off the floor and he immediately hugged her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist, clinging there for dear life. Clinging like he hadn’t seen her in years.
"Okay. Okay," she chuckled and pushed him away gently, but kept hold of his arm as they walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. "Now you’ll stay in here til we clean up the other bedroom, alright?" She laid him in the big bed, propping up his back with a few cushy pillows.
"Okay," he replied.
"There’s a good lad. Get some rest. I’ll be up with your food."
He nodded and closed his eyes, his body exhausted almost as much as his mind.
She shut the door, went back to turn off the bathroom light, then padded down the stairs. The man she was looking for was sat in the kitchen smoking, a filled ashtray in front of him. She crossed her arms and regarded him coyly.
"Well. That certainly wasn’t the way I expected to be introduced to your infamous new DI."
He grunted, a reflex so typical when he was in one of these moods.
"Got him out of the bathroom. Finally. He’s in our room. I’ll keep him there til the other room gets sorted. Don’t think he really understands what’s going on, poor thing." She entered the kitchen and sat in the chair next to Gene, taking his hand in hers. "It’s okay, Gene. I don’t mind. Really."
"I’ll get the carpet fixed," he muttered, still not looking at her. She sighed. What was it with men and not being able to make eye contact?
"Damn well better," she sounded angry but she was smiling. "I was looking for a reason to redecorate in there anyhow. You’ve just provided the excuse."
He finished yet another cigarette and dropped the butt in the tray. She took the glass dish and stood, going to empty it when he held onto her hand and pulled her into his lap. Ashtray in one hand, Gene in the other, she nearly giggled as he closed the gap between them and kissed her tenderly. It was short yet sweet and when they pulled apart her husband looked ten years younger.
"And what was that for?" She laughed kindly.
"Thank you. For comin’ home."
She laughed again and climbed out of his lap. "Oh Gene. Don’t be daft." She emptied the ashtray, set it back on the table, and started making a supper for Sam. "Think this," she nodded upstairs, "is a bit more important than Mum’s allergies. Keep tellin’ her it’s that cat but she refuses to get rid of it. Says it loves her more than her own children, as if that’s s’posed to make me feel guilty about Sarah settling down in Surrey and Ralphie headin’ off to the States. I told her, jus’ cos I’m the oldest don’t mean I can control me siblings. Oh but she’ll hear none of it."
She turned from the counter to see Gene leaning on the table, head in his hands. Setting down the dish towel she was using, she walked over and placed her hands on his shoulders, then slid them around his chest, hugging him tightly. "He’ll be alright. From what you told me he’s a strong lad. An’ he’s one of your boys. And Gene Hunt always takes care of his boys." She kissed him on the cheek. "You can keep ‘im long as you need."
"Not fair to you." He leaned in to her embrace.
"Not fair that I’ll get some company during the day? Someone to help with the chores and the washing up?" She whispered in his ear.
"Chores?" He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, her familiar scent relaxing his nerves.
"Well I’m not going to have him moping around this house all day. Got enough of that from you lately."
"I do not mope," he stated confidently.
"Mm-hm. Whatever you say Chief Inspector." She gave him another good squeeze around the shoulders then went back to her cooking.
"Tomorrow. That quack’s comin’ round. Don’t want you to be here."
"Gene..."
"No."
"Fine," she sighed. Years of marriage taught her when to argue with Gene and when to not and as she chopped up some carrots she could only hope her home would still be in one piece when she returned tomorrow evening.
________
Part 44
Author: dak
Word Count: 1842 this part; [80,281 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: And Saturday continues even further
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, Gene/missus
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: It's been a rough past two days and writing this was very therapeutic. I'm going to be MIA Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but I hope to have at least one more part posted before I disappear.
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
"I stuck my neck out for you!" Gene bellowed as Sam cowered by the toilet. "Everything. Everything I’ve done for you!" His fist cracked the wall again sending a dusting of plaster drifting down on Sam’s head. "And you just...Don’t you realize what he did to you?" Sam stared blankly at the floor. "Answer me!" Gene grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He’d ordered Tyler to speak when spoken to. He was going to be obeyed. "You’re in my house, eating my food, sleeping under my roof. I expect you to bloody well answer me when I’m talking to you!" He struck Sam once above the eye. Sam didn’t respond. Gene raised his fist again, ready to land another heavy blow.
But he stopped, his fist hanging precariously in mid-air. What was he doing? He looked down. Let the choleric fury clear and really looked down. While one hand was in the air waiting to strike, the other was clenched around Sam’s collar, pulling Tyler forward. Sam himself was limp in Gene’s hands, crouched on the floor, limbs hanging loosely, eyes blank, a little trail of blood dripping down his cheek.
Gene dropped him in disgust and backed away. Sam didn’t move, just sat next to the toilet, staring at nothing. What was he doing? He and Tyler came to blows all the time. That was fine. That was natural. That was when Sam could fight back. What was he doing? Sam was defenseless, his mind and body still piecing itself together. What was he doing? He had been so ready to hurt him again, but for what?
He looked back at Sam, still motionless on the floor. That look. Gene knew that look and it had nothing to do with the Valium. Sam had felt he was in danger and, unable to fight back, retreated the only place he could: himself, deep into his mind where he would feel no pain. And Gene had put him there.
Sam didn’t watch as his Guv tore out of the room or hear as he careened down the stairs or care as he ran out of the house.
*
"Don’t believe it."
" ‘M tellin’ yeh the truth."
"But...’s just....not like him at all, is it?" Chris poked at his chips. He hadn’t gone to the pub at all last night, even though he said he was. Well, he had planned on it, but soon as he got to his car he just didn’t feel well and didn’t want to push it. So, he’d gone straight home. He had missed the excitement when Annie had apparently arrived at the Arms and asked to speak to the Guv outside. He needed more vinegar.
He took the bottle from Ray and doused his chips. "But...he was fine when I was there. Kind of quiet, like. But no trouble."
"Well summit changed after you left. Cartwright didn’t knock herself out." Ray munched down a chip while Chris scoffed.
"He din’t knock her out."
"Same difference," Ray shrugged.
"He slapped her."
"You weren’t there."
"Neither were you." Chris was getting angry now. If only he’d stayed with Annie...
"So it’s okay for ‘im to slap ‘er around a little long as she stays awake for it?"
Chris pushed himself away from the table. "Oh c’mon, Ray. You know that’s not what I meant."
"Sorry," Ray grimaced. Chris pulled himself back to table and the two ate in silence. Chris had been planning on getting some dinner with Ray tonight but was a bit surprised when the Sergeant had showed up at his door around one, asking to grab some lunch. If to gloat over Sam’s condition was what Ray had in mind, Chris wanted nothing to do with it.
"Are you?" Chris finally asked.
"Am I what?" Ray asked confused, a soggy chip halfway to his mouth.
"Sorry. ‘Bout what happened to the Boss." Chris tried to read the greasy newsprint wrapped around his food.
Ray threw down his chip. "Why does everyone think I hate ‘im?"
"You do," Chris muttered.
"But, why does everyone think I wanted summit like this to happen? What kinda person you think I am?" Ray was gesticulating wildly now, drawing the attention of the other customers.
While Ray’s voice kept getting louder, Chris’ kept becoming softer. "What kinda person do you think he is? Think he’d want to hurt Annie? Think he’d want to hurt any of us?"
"I don’t know what kinda person he is, Chris, cos I don’ really know ‘im at all. None of us do."
"He’s been here for months. How can you say you know nowt about him?" Chris couldn’t eat anymore. He’d completely lost his appetite and didn’t think he’d find it anytime soon. "Things he’s done for us. For the Guv. His...his actions. That should be enough to tell us what kinda person he is."
Ray, too, no longer felt hungry. He pushed his chips aside. "You come up with that all on your own?"
" ‘S how me dad starts his war stories."
Ray couldn’t help smile. Neither could Chris. Soon both of them were laughing and digging back into their chips.
"Guess your dad has a point. Yeh div." Ray said and Chris smiled.
*
"You have to stop getting into fights," Ruth scolded as she dabbed at a cut just above Sammy’s eyes. "You’re a big man now. Big men don’t solve their problems with their fists."
"Yeaheyo..." he mumbled.
"Sammy?"
"Yes they do," he grumbled, not meeting his mother’s gaze.
Ruth frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "Now who told you that?" Sammy just shrugged. "Sam Tyler I asked you a question," she voiced sternly but gently at the same time, the way only a mother could.
"Robby Rayner’s dad."
"Well..." Ruth hesitated. "He was wrong. Why would you listen to Robby’s dad in the first place?"
"Cos I can’t find me own." Sammy immediately felt ashamed. He never liked to bring up dad in front of mum. It always made her so sad. He hated it when she was sad and hated it even more when he was the one that had caused it.
"Sam?" He steeled himself and looked up. Her eyes were bright and sad but this time they were sad for him. "Why don’t we get you into bed and I’ll bring you a nice warm meal, hm?"
Sammy smiled. He was glad his mother was here. He didn’t want to admit it but this fight had scared him. All he’d wanted was to see her, even though he knew he’d be in trouble, and now here she was. All to himself. She helped him off the floor and he immediately hugged her tightly, arms wrapped around her waist, clinging there for dear life. Clinging like he hadn’t seen her in years.
"Okay. Okay," she chuckled and pushed him away gently, but kept hold of his arm as they walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. "Now you’ll stay in here til we clean up the other bedroom, alright?" She laid him in the big bed, propping up his back with a few cushy pillows.
"Okay," he replied.
"There’s a good lad. Get some rest. I’ll be up with your food."
He nodded and closed his eyes, his body exhausted almost as much as his mind.
She shut the door, went back to turn off the bathroom light, then padded down the stairs. The man she was looking for was sat in the kitchen smoking, a filled ashtray in front of him. She crossed her arms and regarded him coyly.
"Well. That certainly wasn’t the way I expected to be introduced to your infamous new DI."
He grunted, a reflex so typical when he was in one of these moods.
"Got him out of the bathroom. Finally. He’s in our room. I’ll keep him there til the other room gets sorted. Don’t think he really understands what’s going on, poor thing." She entered the kitchen and sat in the chair next to Gene, taking his hand in hers. "It’s okay, Gene. I don’t mind. Really."
"I’ll get the carpet fixed," he muttered, still not looking at her. She sighed. What was it with men and not being able to make eye contact?
"Damn well better," she sounded angry but she was smiling. "I was looking for a reason to redecorate in there anyhow. You’ve just provided the excuse."
He finished yet another cigarette and dropped the butt in the tray. She took the glass dish and stood, going to empty it when he held onto her hand and pulled her into his lap. Ashtray in one hand, Gene in the other, she nearly giggled as he closed the gap between them and kissed her tenderly. It was short yet sweet and when they pulled apart her husband looked ten years younger.
"And what was that for?" She laughed kindly.
"Thank you. For comin’ home."
She laughed again and climbed out of his lap. "Oh Gene. Don’t be daft." She emptied the ashtray, set it back on the table, and started making a supper for Sam. "Think this," she nodded upstairs, "is a bit more important than Mum’s allergies. Keep tellin’ her it’s that cat but she refuses to get rid of it. Says it loves her more than her own children, as if that’s s’posed to make me feel guilty about Sarah settling down in Surrey and Ralphie headin’ off to the States. I told her, jus’ cos I’m the oldest don’t mean I can control me siblings. Oh but she’ll hear none of it."
She turned from the counter to see Gene leaning on the table, head in his hands. Setting down the dish towel she was using, she walked over and placed her hands on his shoulders, then slid them around his chest, hugging him tightly. "He’ll be alright. From what you told me he’s a strong lad. An’ he’s one of your boys. And Gene Hunt always takes care of his boys." She kissed him on the cheek. "You can keep ‘im long as you need."
"Not fair to you." He leaned in to her embrace.
"Not fair that I’ll get some company during the day? Someone to help with the chores and the washing up?" She whispered in his ear.
"Chores?" He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, her familiar scent relaxing his nerves.
"Well I’m not going to have him moping around this house all day. Got enough of that from you lately."
"I do not mope," he stated confidently.
"Mm-hm. Whatever you say Chief Inspector." She gave him another good squeeze around the shoulders then went back to her cooking.
"Tomorrow. That quack’s comin’ round. Don’t want you to be here."
"Gene..."
"No."
"Fine," she sighed. Years of marriage taught her when to argue with Gene and when to not and as she chopped up some carrots she could only hope her home would still be in one piece when she returned tomorrow evening.
________
Part 44