Fic: Steady As She Goes (65/86), Blue Cortina, dakfinv
Title: Steady As She Goes (65/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1593 this part; [117,239 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: A quiet, Friday evening. Or not.
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: Just a big ol' angsty chapter with a not friendly cliffhanger. You know, the usual. Please 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
Sam slammed his door shut with such force his elderly neighbor thought Hitler had started bombing again.
"What’s the matter with you? What’s the matter with you? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
He scolded himself as he paced up and down his flat, throwing off his jacket and banging his head in his hands. He had never felt so useless, not even in hospital. He couldn’t believe it. Clive of all people, a man who saw a case once every coronation, Clive had been the one to identify Sam’s witness as the actual culprit.
Sam dropped onto his creaky, thin bed and kicked at an errant shoe lying on the floor. He had been just about ready to let the man go when Clive had caught his mistake. His mistake. Sam jumped to his feet and scurried into the kitchen, poring through the still unpacked grocery bags for something edible.
He had been so focused on getting his notes right, getting down every word exactly as the "witness" had been saying it, that he had overlooked the importance of observing how the man was saying it. His body language should have been a dead giveaway. Body language as well as the balaclava sticking out of his back pocket.
Sam threw some tinned peas at the wall, a small flurry of plaster drifting down from here the tin had left its mark. He wasn’t just angry with himself. He was furious, disappointed, confused. Gene had given him the opportunity, an opportunity he could have easily been denied, and what did he do? He’d completely mucked it up, that’s what he did. He had never felt so useless.
Sam ran to the table and ripped open his kidnapping file. This was their fault, those bastards. Sam trembled as he pulled out a police photograph of his ravaged chest. He could get over this. He would get over this.
"Oh, Sam. We’re going to have a long night," she smiled.
*
Gene sighed and grabbed his coat from the rack. The week had been much too long for his liking but it was Friday and it was over and now he could enjoy a weekend of sleeping and watching football and not worrying about Tyler.
Yes, Gene had made the conscious decision not to check on the slightly dented brain box unless he failed to show up for work on Monday. Tyler didn’t need to feel like he had Big Brother watching over his shoulder. Poor lad was getting plenty paranoid as it was.
Yes, Gene had a lot of questions for him, about how his case with Clive had gone. All he knew was that it had been solved, the criminal arrested on site, which was good. That was really all he needed to know but after his conversation with Chris and the severely wounded expression Tyler had been wearing once he and Clive had returned, well, Gene decided he would just have to take Tyler out on a call himself next week. See how he was really doing.
But he wasn’t going to worry about that now. No, it would be a Sam Tyler-less weekend for the Gene Genie which meant he should just throw on his coat and get to the pub and get on with it. Course, it wouldn’t hurt to give Tyler’s case a good once-over during the weekend. A quick read through between halves.
Gene flicked his office light back on and walked around to his desk, lifting up the desk mat to pull out the wanted file. The file that wasn’t there.
*
"C’mon Chris. Jus’ tell us how ‘e did."
"Don’t see why it’s important," Chris spoke into his pint. Ray had been prodding him the last half hour for information and all it had been doing was making him edgy.
"So ‘e cocked it up, din’t e?" Ray smirked.
"Why would say that?" Annie questioned admonishingly.
"Cos he wants the DI position again," Chris accused.
"Oi. I haven’t applied for it, have I? Don’t much plan on it right now, either," he moodily sipped his beer.
"Sorry Ray. It’s just, people have been questioning me all day ‘bout it an’ I’d rather talk about summit else." Chris peered at Annie over his glass but she was still glaring daggers at Ray.
"Right, well, watch me pint. ‘M goin’ for a slash."
When Ray left the table, Chris leaned in towards Annie. "Cartwright?"
"Yeah Chris?"
"Uhm," he looked around to make sure no one was listening in. "I din’t tell the Guv but, well, do you know, has Sam ever...seen things that weren’t there?" He took a quick sip while Annie thought it over.
"I don’t...what sort of things? What happened?" She, too, checked to make sure they weren’t overheard.
"At Mrs. Mitchum’s house, she was tellin’ one of her stories again and, all of a sudden he, he just screams, spills his tea all down his front." Chris felt guilty even mentioning it but the entire situation had unnerved him more than he wanted to let on.
"Well, maybe he was having a flashback to the kidnapping. Maybe something in the house reminded him of that day. But seeing things? He’s never said anything to me about it. But that doesn’t mean...I think you should tell the Guv."
"I don’t want to get ‘im in trouble," Chris sighed.
"I know," Annie reached out and took Chris’ hand, giving it a quick squeeze before Ray returned to the table.
"So," Ray picked up his glass and finished off his pint. "Up for a game of darts then. Chris?"
"Can’t make me feel any worse," Chris shrugged and set down his own glass, willing himself to enjoy this Friday evening at the pub with his mates.
*
Five knocks with no answer and Gene’s shoulder was once again making fast friends with Tyler’s door. The first thing he noticed was the missing case file spread open on the table. The second thing he noticed was Tyler sitting in his armchair, flipping through a stack of photos. Sam seemed neither surprised nor disturbed with his Guv’s sudden entrance.
"It’s not working," Sam said simply.
Gene walked cautiously into the room and stood over Sam.
"I thought the more I look at these the faster I could get over it. It’s not working," he explained analytically, no hint of emotion in his voice. He flipped to another photo, his vacant expression remaining the same.
"I told you. You overwork that brain of yours. Some things don’t need heavy thinking on."
"Maybe," Sam said, flipping to another photograph.
Gene leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette, noticing with some unease that Sam chose not to complain about the smell filling his flat. Perhaps Tyler was finally used to his bad habits after all. "You need to get out more," he said calmly. Sam didn’t respond. "Why don’t we head down to the pub an’ I’ll let you buy me a drink. Nelson’s missing that pretty face of yours."
"There’s nothing wrong with a drink," Sam sniped.
"Is that your famous sarcasm or were you actually agreeing with me?" Gene flicked the ash onto the carpet on purpose. Sam didn’t even flinch.
"I can go for a drink if I want to," he snapped again.
"Good. Best be off then. Way you’re moving lately, be lucky if we make it in ‘fore eleven." Gene moved to the door. Sam stayed where he was.
"I do have friends," Sam said quietly.
"Never said you didn’t. Though can’t say it’s not surprising." Gene stood by the doorway, waiting for Sam to rise and join him.
"Will you just shut up?" He shouted, squeezing his eyes closed, his fingers clenching on the photos.
"Fine. You don’t want to come, no--"
"Not you," Sam looked up at Gene.
"What?" Gene was pretty sure his heart stopped.
"I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her," Sam nodded to his left.
Yes. His heart had most certainly stopped beating and fallen out of his chest.
Sam kept looking at the photos. "She won’t stop talking. She won’t leave me alone. Especially when I want to sleep. God, you should see her then."
Gene slowly closed the door.
"I thought it would be better when I got rid of the television but no, it’s just been worse. Every time I come home, there she is...This is home right now," he argued with someone.
Gene remained calm as he walked towards Sam.
"They aren’t going to switch me off...No! My mum wouldn’t do that."
Gene crouched down next to Sam. "Hand me the photos Sam."
"You’re worse than a broken record, you are."
Gene held out his hand. "Sammy? The photos."
"What? Oh, sorry." He immediately dropped the pictures into Gene’s waiting hands. "I was going to bring them back on Monday. I didn’t think you would notice." Gene stood and carried the photos over to the file on the table while Sam rose from his seat and grabbed his jacket off the bed. "So, pub?"
"Hm?" Gene didn’t quite hear him as he closed the file.
"I could use a drink and you’re right. I need to get out of here. She’s driving me mad."
"Regarding some of the things he said, during this attack and the previous ones. During his fever... I’m more worried that the shock is covering up the symptoms of a greater, underlying problem. Sam almost seems to be exhibiting early signs of schizophrenia."
"Gene? Are we going?"
_____
Part 66
Author: dak
Word Count: 1593 this part; [117,239 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: A quiet, Friday evening. Or not.
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: Just a big ol' angsty chapter with a not friendly cliffhanger. You know, the usual. Please 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
Sam slammed his door shut with such force his elderly neighbor thought Hitler had started bombing again.
"What’s the matter with you? What’s the matter with you? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"
He scolded himself as he paced up and down his flat, throwing off his jacket and banging his head in his hands. He had never felt so useless, not even in hospital. He couldn’t believe it. Clive of all people, a man who saw a case once every coronation, Clive had been the one to identify Sam’s witness as the actual culprit.
Sam dropped onto his creaky, thin bed and kicked at an errant shoe lying on the floor. He had been just about ready to let the man go when Clive had caught his mistake. His mistake. Sam jumped to his feet and scurried into the kitchen, poring through the still unpacked grocery bags for something edible.
He had been so focused on getting his notes right, getting down every word exactly as the "witness" had been saying it, that he had overlooked the importance of observing how the man was saying it. His body language should have been a dead giveaway. Body language as well as the balaclava sticking out of his back pocket.
Sam threw some tinned peas at the wall, a small flurry of plaster drifting down from here the tin had left its mark. He wasn’t just angry with himself. He was furious, disappointed, confused. Gene had given him the opportunity, an opportunity he could have easily been denied, and what did he do? He’d completely mucked it up, that’s what he did. He had never felt so useless.
Sam ran to the table and ripped open his kidnapping file. This was their fault, those bastards. Sam trembled as he pulled out a police photograph of his ravaged chest. He could get over this. He would get over this.
"Oh, Sam. We’re going to have a long night," she smiled.
*
Gene sighed and grabbed his coat from the rack. The week had been much too long for his liking but it was Friday and it was over and now he could enjoy a weekend of sleeping and watching football and not worrying about Tyler.
Yes, Gene had made the conscious decision not to check on the slightly dented brain box unless he failed to show up for work on Monday. Tyler didn’t need to feel like he had Big Brother watching over his shoulder. Poor lad was getting plenty paranoid as it was.
Yes, Gene had a lot of questions for him, about how his case with Clive had gone. All he knew was that it had been solved, the criminal arrested on site, which was good. That was really all he needed to know but after his conversation with Chris and the severely wounded expression Tyler had been wearing once he and Clive had returned, well, Gene decided he would just have to take Tyler out on a call himself next week. See how he was really doing.
But he wasn’t going to worry about that now. No, it would be a Sam Tyler-less weekend for the Gene Genie which meant he should just throw on his coat and get to the pub and get on with it. Course, it wouldn’t hurt to give Tyler’s case a good once-over during the weekend. A quick read through between halves.
Gene flicked his office light back on and walked around to his desk, lifting up the desk mat to pull out the wanted file. The file that wasn’t there.
*
"C’mon Chris. Jus’ tell us how ‘e did."
"Don’t see why it’s important," Chris spoke into his pint. Ray had been prodding him the last half hour for information and all it had been doing was making him edgy.
"So ‘e cocked it up, din’t e?" Ray smirked.
"Why would say that?" Annie questioned admonishingly.
"Cos he wants the DI position again," Chris accused.
"Oi. I haven’t applied for it, have I? Don’t much plan on it right now, either," he moodily sipped his beer.
"Sorry Ray. It’s just, people have been questioning me all day ‘bout it an’ I’d rather talk about summit else." Chris peered at Annie over his glass but she was still glaring daggers at Ray.
"Right, well, watch me pint. ‘M goin’ for a slash."
When Ray left the table, Chris leaned in towards Annie. "Cartwright?"
"Yeah Chris?"
"Uhm," he looked around to make sure no one was listening in. "I din’t tell the Guv but, well, do you know, has Sam ever...seen things that weren’t there?" He took a quick sip while Annie thought it over.
"I don’t...what sort of things? What happened?" She, too, checked to make sure they weren’t overheard.
"At Mrs. Mitchum’s house, she was tellin’ one of her stories again and, all of a sudden he, he just screams, spills his tea all down his front." Chris felt guilty even mentioning it but the entire situation had unnerved him more than he wanted to let on.
"Well, maybe he was having a flashback to the kidnapping. Maybe something in the house reminded him of that day. But seeing things? He’s never said anything to me about it. But that doesn’t mean...I think you should tell the Guv."
"I don’t want to get ‘im in trouble," Chris sighed.
"I know," Annie reached out and took Chris’ hand, giving it a quick squeeze before Ray returned to the table.
"So," Ray picked up his glass and finished off his pint. "Up for a game of darts then. Chris?"
"Can’t make me feel any worse," Chris shrugged and set down his own glass, willing himself to enjoy this Friday evening at the pub with his mates.
*
Five knocks with no answer and Gene’s shoulder was once again making fast friends with Tyler’s door. The first thing he noticed was the missing case file spread open on the table. The second thing he noticed was Tyler sitting in his armchair, flipping through a stack of photos. Sam seemed neither surprised nor disturbed with his Guv’s sudden entrance.
"It’s not working," Sam said simply.
Gene walked cautiously into the room and stood over Sam.
"I thought the more I look at these the faster I could get over it. It’s not working," he explained analytically, no hint of emotion in his voice. He flipped to another photo, his vacant expression remaining the same.
"I told you. You overwork that brain of yours. Some things don’t need heavy thinking on."
"Maybe," Sam said, flipping to another photograph.
Gene leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette, noticing with some unease that Sam chose not to complain about the smell filling his flat. Perhaps Tyler was finally used to his bad habits after all. "You need to get out more," he said calmly. Sam didn’t respond. "Why don’t we head down to the pub an’ I’ll let you buy me a drink. Nelson’s missing that pretty face of yours."
"There’s nothing wrong with a drink," Sam sniped.
"Is that your famous sarcasm or were you actually agreeing with me?" Gene flicked the ash onto the carpet on purpose. Sam didn’t even flinch.
"I can go for a drink if I want to," he snapped again.
"Good. Best be off then. Way you’re moving lately, be lucky if we make it in ‘fore eleven." Gene moved to the door. Sam stayed where he was.
"I do have friends," Sam said quietly.
"Never said you didn’t. Though can’t say it’s not surprising." Gene stood by the doorway, waiting for Sam to rise and join him.
"Will you just shut up?" He shouted, squeezing his eyes closed, his fingers clenching on the photos.
"Fine. You don’t want to come, no--"
"Not you," Sam looked up at Gene.
"What?" Gene was pretty sure his heart stopped.
"I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her," Sam nodded to his left.
Yes. His heart had most certainly stopped beating and fallen out of his chest.
Sam kept looking at the photos. "She won’t stop talking. She won’t leave me alone. Especially when I want to sleep. God, you should see her then."
Gene slowly closed the door.
"I thought it would be better when I got rid of the television but no, it’s just been worse. Every time I come home, there she is...This is home right now," he argued with someone.
Gene remained calm as he walked towards Sam.
"They aren’t going to switch me off...No! My mum wouldn’t do that."
Gene crouched down next to Sam. "Hand me the photos Sam."
"You’re worse than a broken record, you are."
Gene held out his hand. "Sammy? The photos."
"What? Oh, sorry." He immediately dropped the pictures into Gene’s waiting hands. "I was going to bring them back on Monday. I didn’t think you would notice." Gene stood and carried the photos over to the file on the table while Sam rose from his seat and grabbed his jacket off the bed. "So, pub?"
"Hm?" Gene didn’t quite hear him as he closed the file.
"I could use a drink and you’re right. I need to get out of here. She’s driving me mad."
"Regarding some of the things he said, during this attack and the previous ones. During his fever... I’m more worried that the shock is covering up the symptoms of a greater, underlying problem. Sam almost seems to be exhibiting early signs of schizophrenia."
"Gene? Are we going?"
_____
Part 66