Fic: Steady As She Goes (73/86), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: Steady As She Goes (73/86)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1555 this part; [129,740 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: The next day.
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: 1x07; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya, Gene/missus
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Now live from the UK! So I had some time yesterday de-jetlagging myself and was able to write this. And my temporary accomadation has internet, so I'm able to post it! Now I'm going to walk the streets and marvel at how I can find Doctor Who merchandise without going to a specialty shop...
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
He couldn’t hear the shouting. He couldn’t feel the hands pulling at him. All Sam was aware of, at that moment, was the sound of Bobby Walsh’s flesh bruising against his fists. All he could feel was the man’s blood underneath his fingers as he managed to land another blow. All he knew was that this is what he wanted.
Then, just like that, it was over. The punches slowed, the adrenaline wore off, and Ray and Chris were able to pull him away to the corner.
“Christ, Tyler,” Ray heaved, out of breath, “Din’t think you had it in yeh.”
Sam continued to breath heavily as he stared at Walsh’s motionless body.
“Maybe...maybe we should call a doctor.” Chris’ eyes darted nervously from the silent Sam to the bloodied Bobby.
“For which one?” Ray scoffed and lit a cigarette to calm his own nerves. “Right. Guv’s not in yet. Let’s get the nonce upstairs an’ clean ‘im up. Then we’ll call a doctor for this shit.”
“I don’t think we should wait.”
“He’ll be fine--”
“That’s what you said about Kemble!” Chris suddenly shouted, the reaction causing Ray to reevaluate his own plan. Before he could decide anything, someone else spoke first.
“Call a doctor.” Both detectives looked down at Sam who had whispered the order. He took a few more breaths then used the wall to slowly lift himself up. “Call a doctor,” he repeated and dragged his tired body towards the cell door.
“Where are you going?” Ray demanded with less venom than he would have liked.
“Tell Gene I’ll be waiting in his office,” he spoke surprisingly calmly and slipped out the door.
The minutes passed interminably slowly as Sam sat, head in his hands, waiting for Gene to arrive. A million different scenarios played out in his fractured head, all seeming to end with him out of a job, out on the street, and out of his mind. When he finally heard the door swing open and shut it was like a death rattle. The hangman cometh, ready to use the gallows Sam had constructed for himself.
At least he was going to get his last words in.
“There’s something wrong with me.”
It was probably not the best way to start.
“I wanted to kill him,” Sam laughed and the noise sounded harsh and grotesque to his ears. “I wanted him to die and I wanted to be the cause.” Sam paused. Gene hadn’t spoken. Why wasn’t Gene speaking? Was he even in the room? Sam spun in the chair, terrified that he’d be caught talking to himself again, but no. Gene was there, any fury he felt channeling itself through his fierce, green eyes. “Is he going to be alright?” Sam asked quietly.
“Thought you wanted him dead?” Gene remarked flippantly. Sam could only imagine the terror that had filled his face as it caused Gene to sit down and give him a straight answer. “He’ll live. Managed not to break anything, just some bad bruising is all. He’ll be hurting for a while but no need to take him to hospital.”
“There could be internal injuries. Things we can’t see--”
“Fancy yourself that good Tyler? With those scrawny arms? Barely got any meat on yeh, let alone muscle. Surprising enough you caused as much damage as you did.” Sam dropped his head back into his hands. “You’re not going to cry again are you?” Gene covered the concern with a dash of anger.
“I shouldn’t be at the station,” he mumbled into his palms.
“This comin’ from the girl who said yesterday she didn’t want to go on holiday. Make up your mind Gladys.”
“Yesterday I hadn’t nearly killed a man with my bare hands, Gene!”
Gene placidly lit a cigarette. “There you go. Stretchin’ the truth again. You just knocked ‘im about is all. Tryin’ to get some answers. What any of us--”
“I’m not one of you!” Sam shouted desperately, willing himself to believe it. “And even if I were, it does not, and should not, justify my actions. Especially when we both know what I was doing was nowhere near interrogation.” Sam was pacing now, hugging bruised knuckles around his chest, speaking more to himself than his DCI. “God,” he choked out, “Do you actually think this is helping? I assaulted a suspect! Do you think you can help me by denying what this actually is?” He frantically scrubbed his hands through his hair as if the action could somehow miraculously clear his frazzled mind.
“I’m trying Sam.” The uncommonly soft tone of Gene’s voice captured Tyler’s finicky attention. “I’m doing the best I can with you and you’re not making it bloody easy you know!” While the quiet tone had caught Sam’s attention, his shouts held it. “I should be getting a fucking medal for all the shit you’ve put me through! And a nice, fat purse to go along with it. You think you’re the only copper to ever get kidnapped?” Gene rose from the chair and stalked towards his wayward deputy, slowly backing him against the wall as he lowered his voice. “Well maybe you’re the only one who’s been kidnapped and thinks he’s from the future and talks to the voices in his head.”
Sam swallowed hard. Gene’s face was as close as it had ever been. He could almost feel the stubble grazing his own unshaven chin as he smelt the smoke, whiskey, and sherbert wafting from Gene’s mouth. Gene placed a hand on the wall on either side of Sam’s head, trapping him there indefinitely.
“There is something wrong with you Tyler and every nerve in my body, every gut instinct is tellin’ me to cut you loose. Let you go. Let you drown.”
Sam remembered back to last night when he had stood on the bank of the canal until the sun had risen, wondering if he should finally let go. Something had stopped him.
“So tell me Sam, tell me why I won’t. Why I can’t. You always have all the answers. Tell me why I’m still allowing a complete cock-up like you to be on my team. To police in my city. Because honestly, Tyler, after your little incident today, I really have no fucking clue.”
Sam gulped, closing his eyes, taking a breath, and refocusing his attention on Gene Hunt’s very close visage. “Must be my captivating looks Guv.”
Gene hesitated. That was not the response he had been expecting. “Fairy,” he quipped, breaking the few seconds silence.
“Speaking from experience?” Sam dead-panned.
“I should have you arrested.”
“Only because you’d like to see me in handcuffs. Again.”
Gene backed off and picked up his fag where he’d left it in the ashtray. “Why is it you can act completely normal round me but left on your own your brain goes to more pieces than an old prozzie’s panties?”
“You call this normal?”
“For you.”
Sam thought a moment. “Fair cop,” he decided and sat back in his chair as Gene plopped down in his. Sam sat, absentmindedly picking at the wooden armrest and Gene had learned, from too much experience, to notice how unhinged Tyler was beneath the surface.
“You’re not well Sam.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
“I should’ve listened to you when you said you spotted Walsh.”
“Wait. Is Gene Hunt admitting he made a mistake?”
“Shut up Tyler and listen cos there is no way on this bloody Earth that I am ever going to say this again. I should’ve listened but I didn’t and it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for that.”
Sam had silenced himself and carefully paid attention, even if he avoided eye contact.
“But that does not give you the right to run around this station acting like you’ve got carte blanche for crazy. It might not seem like it but I can’t hold you back from the ledge forever. You’re teetering Sam and God help me, I’m losing me grip.”
The air was thick for an endless eternity, neither man willing to speak. Sam broke first. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”
“Constant deja vu with you.”
“Anyone else would’ve locked me up by now.”
“Anyone else is smarter than me.”
“You have to take me off the Graham case. Handle it yourselves. I was wrong. I’m not ready to get that close.”
“Wait. Is Sam Tyler admitting he made a mistake?”
“Shut up.”
Gene carefully appraised Sam then clasped his hands and leaned over the desk. “For that little revelation, Tyler, I am not bumping you down to Constable over your little outburst today. Congratulations Sergeant. There are a few cases I think you and Nancy Drew can handle. Go see your little lovebird and get them sorted.”
“Yes Guv,” Sam nodded and picked himself up out of the chair.
“Oh and the missus wants more of those fruity recipes of yours.”
“Do you mean recipes with fruit or recipes that imply something about my sexuality?”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’ll put something together for her.”
“There’s a good lad.” Over the top of a file, Gene watched Sam leave his office and immediately begin to write an altered report of Bobby Walsh’s accident. Gene Hunt might have been a tender, caring soul but the Super was certainly not.
______
Part 74
Author: dak
Word Count: 1555 this part; [129,740 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: The next day.
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: 1x07; see each chapter for specific spoiler warnings
Pairing: mild Sam/Annie, Sam/Maya, Gene/missus
Disclaimer: Belongs to BBC/Kudos
A/N: Now live from the UK! So I had some time yesterday de-jetlagging myself and was able to write this. And my temporary accomadation has internet, so I'm able to post it! Now I'm going to walk the streets and marvel at how I can find Doctor Who merchandise without going to a specialty shop...
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
He couldn’t hear the shouting. He couldn’t feel the hands pulling at him. All Sam was aware of, at that moment, was the sound of Bobby Walsh’s flesh bruising against his fists. All he could feel was the man’s blood underneath his fingers as he managed to land another blow. All he knew was that this is what he wanted.
Then, just like that, it was over. The punches slowed, the adrenaline wore off, and Ray and Chris were able to pull him away to the corner.
“Christ, Tyler,” Ray heaved, out of breath, “Din’t think you had it in yeh.”
Sam continued to breath heavily as he stared at Walsh’s motionless body.
“Maybe...maybe we should call a doctor.” Chris’ eyes darted nervously from the silent Sam to the bloodied Bobby.
“For which one?” Ray scoffed and lit a cigarette to calm his own nerves. “Right. Guv’s not in yet. Let’s get the nonce upstairs an’ clean ‘im up. Then we’ll call a doctor for this shit.”
“I don’t think we should wait.”
“He’ll be fine--”
“That’s what you said about Kemble!” Chris suddenly shouted, the reaction causing Ray to reevaluate his own plan. Before he could decide anything, someone else spoke first.
“Call a doctor.” Both detectives looked down at Sam who had whispered the order. He took a few more breaths then used the wall to slowly lift himself up. “Call a doctor,” he repeated and dragged his tired body towards the cell door.
“Where are you going?” Ray demanded with less venom than he would have liked.
“Tell Gene I’ll be waiting in his office,” he spoke surprisingly calmly and slipped out the door.
The minutes passed interminably slowly as Sam sat, head in his hands, waiting for Gene to arrive. A million different scenarios played out in his fractured head, all seeming to end with him out of a job, out on the street, and out of his mind. When he finally heard the door swing open and shut it was like a death rattle. The hangman cometh, ready to use the gallows Sam had constructed for himself.
At least he was going to get his last words in.
“There’s something wrong with me.”
It was probably not the best way to start.
“I wanted to kill him,” Sam laughed and the noise sounded harsh and grotesque to his ears. “I wanted him to die and I wanted to be the cause.” Sam paused. Gene hadn’t spoken. Why wasn’t Gene speaking? Was he even in the room? Sam spun in the chair, terrified that he’d be caught talking to himself again, but no. Gene was there, any fury he felt channeling itself through his fierce, green eyes. “Is he going to be alright?” Sam asked quietly.
“Thought you wanted him dead?” Gene remarked flippantly. Sam could only imagine the terror that had filled his face as it caused Gene to sit down and give him a straight answer. “He’ll live. Managed not to break anything, just some bad bruising is all. He’ll be hurting for a while but no need to take him to hospital.”
“There could be internal injuries. Things we can’t see--”
“Fancy yourself that good Tyler? With those scrawny arms? Barely got any meat on yeh, let alone muscle. Surprising enough you caused as much damage as you did.” Sam dropped his head back into his hands. “You’re not going to cry again are you?” Gene covered the concern with a dash of anger.
“I shouldn’t be at the station,” he mumbled into his palms.
“This comin’ from the girl who said yesterday she didn’t want to go on holiday. Make up your mind Gladys.”
“Yesterday I hadn’t nearly killed a man with my bare hands, Gene!”
Gene placidly lit a cigarette. “There you go. Stretchin’ the truth again. You just knocked ‘im about is all. Tryin’ to get some answers. What any of us--”
“I’m not one of you!” Sam shouted desperately, willing himself to believe it. “And even if I were, it does not, and should not, justify my actions. Especially when we both know what I was doing was nowhere near interrogation.” Sam was pacing now, hugging bruised knuckles around his chest, speaking more to himself than his DCI. “God,” he choked out, “Do you actually think this is helping? I assaulted a suspect! Do you think you can help me by denying what this actually is?” He frantically scrubbed his hands through his hair as if the action could somehow miraculously clear his frazzled mind.
“I’m trying Sam.” The uncommonly soft tone of Gene’s voice captured Tyler’s finicky attention. “I’m doing the best I can with you and you’re not making it bloody easy you know!” While the quiet tone had caught Sam’s attention, his shouts held it. “I should be getting a fucking medal for all the shit you’ve put me through! And a nice, fat purse to go along with it. You think you’re the only copper to ever get kidnapped?” Gene rose from the chair and stalked towards his wayward deputy, slowly backing him against the wall as he lowered his voice. “Well maybe you’re the only one who’s been kidnapped and thinks he’s from the future and talks to the voices in his head.”
Sam swallowed hard. Gene’s face was as close as it had ever been. He could almost feel the stubble grazing his own unshaven chin as he smelt the smoke, whiskey, and sherbert wafting from Gene’s mouth. Gene placed a hand on the wall on either side of Sam’s head, trapping him there indefinitely.
“There is something wrong with you Tyler and every nerve in my body, every gut instinct is tellin’ me to cut you loose. Let you go. Let you drown.”
Sam remembered back to last night when he had stood on the bank of the canal until the sun had risen, wondering if he should finally let go. Something had stopped him.
“So tell me Sam, tell me why I won’t. Why I can’t. You always have all the answers. Tell me why I’m still allowing a complete cock-up like you to be on my team. To police in my city. Because honestly, Tyler, after your little incident today, I really have no fucking clue.”
Sam gulped, closing his eyes, taking a breath, and refocusing his attention on Gene Hunt’s very close visage. “Must be my captivating looks Guv.”
Gene hesitated. That was not the response he had been expecting. “Fairy,” he quipped, breaking the few seconds silence.
“Speaking from experience?” Sam dead-panned.
“I should have you arrested.”
“Only because you’d like to see me in handcuffs. Again.”
Gene backed off and picked up his fag where he’d left it in the ashtray. “Why is it you can act completely normal round me but left on your own your brain goes to more pieces than an old prozzie’s panties?”
“You call this normal?”
“For you.”
Sam thought a moment. “Fair cop,” he decided and sat back in his chair as Gene plopped down in his. Sam sat, absentmindedly picking at the wooden armrest and Gene had learned, from too much experience, to notice how unhinged Tyler was beneath the surface.
“You’re not well Sam.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
“I should’ve listened to you when you said you spotted Walsh.”
“Wait. Is Gene Hunt admitting he made a mistake?”
“Shut up Tyler and listen cos there is no way on this bloody Earth that I am ever going to say this again. I should’ve listened but I didn’t and it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for that.”
Sam had silenced himself and carefully paid attention, even if he avoided eye contact.
“But that does not give you the right to run around this station acting like you’ve got carte blanche for crazy. It might not seem like it but I can’t hold you back from the ledge forever. You’re teetering Sam and God help me, I’m losing me grip.”
The air was thick for an endless eternity, neither man willing to speak. Sam broke first. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”
“Constant deja vu with you.”
“Anyone else would’ve locked me up by now.”
“Anyone else is smarter than me.”
“You have to take me off the Graham case. Handle it yourselves. I was wrong. I’m not ready to get that close.”
“Wait. Is Sam Tyler admitting he made a mistake?”
“Shut up.”
Gene carefully appraised Sam then clasped his hands and leaned over the desk. “For that little revelation, Tyler, I am not bumping you down to Constable over your little outburst today. Congratulations Sergeant. There are a few cases I think you and Nancy Drew can handle. Go see your little lovebird and get them sorted.”
“Yes Guv,” Sam nodded and picked himself up out of the chair.
“Oh and the missus wants more of those fruity recipes of yours.”
“Do you mean recipes with fruit or recipes that imply something about my sexuality?”
“There’s a difference?”
“I’ll put something together for her.”
“There’s a good lad.” Over the top of a file, Gene watched Sam leave his office and immediately begin to write an altered report of Bobby Walsh’s accident. Gene Hunt might have been a tender, caring soul but the Super was certainly not.
______
Part 74