Fic: Coffin For Sam (8/13), blue cortina, dakfinv
Title: Coffin For Sam (8/13)
Author: dak
Word Count: 1220 this part; [13,006 overall]
Rating: blue cortina
Pairing: some heavy-handed Sam/Gene wink-wink/nudge-nudge, but no direct slashing of the boys
Warnings: angst, just a teeny-tiny bit o' blood
Spoilers: Set after 2.02, so consider anything before that fair game
Summary: When Sam has only 36 hours to live, will Gene and the team be able to catch the perpetrator and save their DI before it's too late?
A/N: This is a response to a plot bunny posted by ausmac. Premise and title taken from the "Starsky and Hutch" episode "Coffin For Starsky." Yeah, second post of the day. What can I say, I sort of almost, not really, felt guilty about that last cliffhanger and was also inspired by
culf's cake art. If you want to know what I'm talking about, go to her journal. Which reminds me, if anyone has the technological skill to make that pic icon size for me, you'd be the best person ever. Culf said it'd be okay as long as she got credit. Okay, without further ado...more angst.
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
They yapped on about him being stable now, but deteriorating, how he should have been admitted immediately. They said things about blood tests but waiting for the results. They mentioned things about symptoms and progression and not knowing the cause. Gene wasn’t really listening. He decided even if he was most of it would probably be over his head anyhow. There was only one thing he needed to know.
“Can I see him?”
He didn’t remembering hearing an answer but found himself being led down the hall, into the lift, up a floor or five, and suddenly he was standing outside a private room in the ICU. The doctor stepped aside and Gene strode into the room with all the false confidence he could muster and shut the door.
He didn’t turn round right away. He let the sound of the heart monitor fill his ears with its steady, if not annoying, bleep. It made him remember the first time he and Sam had been in a hospital room together, after young June was shot. They’d had a punch-up, worked out their differences like men. June had recovered. Her wedding was next month. Both Gene and Sam were invited. Gene wasn’t going to go if Sam couldn’t, despite the promise of an open bar.
“Are you just..gonna stand there...or do I have...to come to you?”
Gene spun around to see Tyler smiling at him. Weak as he may be, the little twat good still channel his inner smart arse. “We’re supposed to have twenty-two hours left. You’re not allowed to die before 4pm tomorrow.”
“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” Sam’s eyes drifted shut as Gene pulled up a chair next the bed, positioning it as close as he could get it. He couldn’t help but reach out and place his hand on Sam’s shoulder. It didn’t seem to bother Sam, so he kept it there. “How’d things go with Bond?” Sam asked, eyes still closed. At least they’d cleaned him up. Out of that mess of a shirt, no more blood on his face.
“He’s got the know how...”
“But?”
“Who says there’s a but?”
“You were going to put a but in there.”
“I wasn’t goin’ to put a but anywhere, you saucy, little tart.” Sam laughed but it triggered a cough he couldn’t quit. Gene leaned in, rubbing a hand over his chest, trying to calm him. “Take it easy. Take it easy. Take a deep breath.”
With great effort, Sam managed to get his breathing under control but the fit had managed to etch a permanent look of pain across the poor boy’s face. “It hurts, Gene,” Sam finally admitted. “Everything. It just all hurts.” A small tear trickled down his pale face. Gene wiped it away.
“Did they give you anything?”
Sam winced as he tried to control another cough. Gene grabbed his hand and held it. “I don’t, I don’t know. Probably. Can’t tell. Am I warm? I feel warmer. I feel like I’m boiling.”
His other hand was placed on Sam’s forehead. The touch seemed to soothe him so Gene didn’t move. “Don’t think so. Feels about the same as before,” he lied.
Sam rested a moment. He looked so fragile but it was Gene who felt like breaking. “Bond,” Sam said after a minute. “What else?”
Gene didn’t want to say anything on the subject. He wanted Sam to forget all about it. Let the Gene Genie sort it.
“You said you’d tell me when I woke up.” Sam forced his eyes open and looked directly into Gene’s. “I’m awake. For now. So tell me.”
“Said ‘e din’t know who you were an’ I think I believe ‘im.” The words spilled out of Gene before he had a chance to sensor them. He was stroking Sam’s head now. He didn’t think he should be but he was and the way their investigation was going, Tyler was going to be gone by this time tomorrow anyway so he really didn’t give a shit and kept on doing it. It was keeping Sam here, keeping him awake.
“Trust the Gene Genie, then,” Sam smiled, his eyes now closed again. “You’ll find another lead.”
“Yeah. Course we will.”
“I wish my mum was here,” Sam mumbled, getting sleepier.
“We could get her here, Sammy. Tell me where an’ I’ll get ‘er for you.”
“One time I had the mumps. She never left me, even though Dad was away an’ she had chores to do.”
“She sounds like a good woman, your mum. Where is she now? I’m sure she’d want to be with you.”
Sam had let his head roll onto Gene’s hand so all he could do now was brush his cheek with his thumb. “Far away. Too far.” For the first time Gene wondered if maybe Sam’s mother was already dead. He never spoke of his father, like Gene never spoke of his, so it must have been just his mother. If she was gone, if Sam had no one, Gene couldn’t leave him here on his own. Not in his last hours.
Yet if Gene stayed here, he couldn’t solve the case then, could he? He needed to be out, pounding the streets, pounding down suspects. If Sam had any chance, it was with Gene.
“Sam? Sammy?” Gene slowly pulled his hand out from under Tyler’s head, causing him to groan. “I have to go now. I have to go fix this.”
Sam nodded once, feebly, then shuddered from another painful spasm. Gene had never seen him so weak and open. Not Tyler. Not the man who kept his emotions locked up in a neat, little box. Who ignored them, pushed them aside until he was forced to deal with them. Hell, that was the Tyler who came to work this morning. Denying anything was wrong, determined to solve this whole mess on his own. That Tyler was gone now. Now he was just Sam. Just a boy, clinging to life by a thread. No, Gene had never seen him so hurt like this, never, except...
You don’t want me to leave but I have to leave, Gene.
*
They had waited for him in the lobby. Ray and Chris no doubt chain-smoking through their entire packs of ciggies, if the number of butts on the floor was anything to go by.
“Carling! Skelton!”
They looked at him expectantly but said nothing.
“Go up to ‘is room. Docs will show you where. Cartwright, you’re with me.”
They all looked at each other in confusion. Gene could easily see they thought he had completely lost it.
“Guv--” Ray started.
“I told ‘im he wasn’t alone on this an’ ‘e won’t be! Now go up there an’ sit with ‘im til I come back for yeh. Let’s go Nancy Drew.” He didn’t wait for anymore questions as he barreled out the door, Cartwright trailing behind. She nervously followed him into the car and quickly buckled her seatbelt.
“Uhm, sir, I was just...why me, Guv?”
“I may need a woman’s touch.” The Cortina peeled away from the hospital, leaving a trail of smoke and rubber in his wake.
*
Gene pounded furiously on the door until it was opened.
“Can I help you?”
“When’s the last time you heard from your husband, Mrs. Tyler?”
______
Part 9
Author: dak
Word Count: 1220 this part; [13,006 overall]
Rating: blue cortina
Pairing: some heavy-handed Sam/Gene wink-wink/nudge-nudge, but no direct slashing of the boys
Warnings: angst, just a teeny-tiny bit o' blood
Spoilers: Set after 2.02, so consider anything before that fair game
Summary: When Sam has only 36 hours to live, will Gene and the team be able to catch the perpetrator and save their DI before it's too late?
A/N: This is a response to a plot bunny posted by ausmac. Premise and title taken from the "Starsky and Hutch" episode "Coffin For Starsky." Yeah, second post of the day. What can I say, I sort of almost, not really, felt guilty about that last cliffhanger and was also inspired by
culf's cake art. If you want to know what I'm talking about, go to her journal. Which reminds me, if anyone has the technological skill to make that pic icon size for me, you'd be the best person ever. Culf said it'd be okay as long as she got credit. Okay, without further ado...more angst.
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
They yapped on about him being stable now, but deteriorating, how he should have been admitted immediately. They said things about blood tests but waiting for the results. They mentioned things about symptoms and progression and not knowing the cause. Gene wasn’t really listening. He decided even if he was most of it would probably be over his head anyhow. There was only one thing he needed to know.
“Can I see him?”
He didn’t remembering hearing an answer but found himself being led down the hall, into the lift, up a floor or five, and suddenly he was standing outside a private room in the ICU. The doctor stepped aside and Gene strode into the room with all the false confidence he could muster and shut the door.
He didn’t turn round right away. He let the sound of the heart monitor fill his ears with its steady, if not annoying, bleep. It made him remember the first time he and Sam had been in a hospital room together, after young June was shot. They’d had a punch-up, worked out their differences like men. June had recovered. Her wedding was next month. Both Gene and Sam were invited. Gene wasn’t going to go if Sam couldn’t, despite the promise of an open bar.
“Are you just..gonna stand there...or do I have...to come to you?”
Gene spun around to see Tyler smiling at him. Weak as he may be, the little twat good still channel his inner smart arse. “We’re supposed to have twenty-two hours left. You’re not allowed to die before 4pm tomorrow.”
“I’ll try and keep that in mind,” Sam’s eyes drifted shut as Gene pulled up a chair next the bed, positioning it as close as he could get it. He couldn’t help but reach out and place his hand on Sam’s shoulder. It didn’t seem to bother Sam, so he kept it there. “How’d things go with Bond?” Sam asked, eyes still closed. At least they’d cleaned him up. Out of that mess of a shirt, no more blood on his face.
“He’s got the know how...”
“But?”
“Who says there’s a but?”
“You were going to put a but in there.”
“I wasn’t goin’ to put a but anywhere, you saucy, little tart.” Sam laughed but it triggered a cough he couldn’t quit. Gene leaned in, rubbing a hand over his chest, trying to calm him. “Take it easy. Take it easy. Take a deep breath.”
With great effort, Sam managed to get his breathing under control but the fit had managed to etch a permanent look of pain across the poor boy’s face. “It hurts, Gene,” Sam finally admitted. “Everything. It just all hurts.” A small tear trickled down his pale face. Gene wiped it away.
“Did they give you anything?”
Sam winced as he tried to control another cough. Gene grabbed his hand and held it. “I don’t, I don’t know. Probably. Can’t tell. Am I warm? I feel warmer. I feel like I’m boiling.”
His other hand was placed on Sam’s forehead. The touch seemed to soothe him so Gene didn’t move. “Don’t think so. Feels about the same as before,” he lied.
Sam rested a moment. He looked so fragile but it was Gene who felt like breaking. “Bond,” Sam said after a minute. “What else?”
Gene didn’t want to say anything on the subject. He wanted Sam to forget all about it. Let the Gene Genie sort it.
“You said you’d tell me when I woke up.” Sam forced his eyes open and looked directly into Gene’s. “I’m awake. For now. So tell me.”
“Said ‘e din’t know who you were an’ I think I believe ‘im.” The words spilled out of Gene before he had a chance to sensor them. He was stroking Sam’s head now. He didn’t think he should be but he was and the way their investigation was going, Tyler was going to be gone by this time tomorrow anyway so he really didn’t give a shit and kept on doing it. It was keeping Sam here, keeping him awake.
“Trust the Gene Genie, then,” Sam smiled, his eyes now closed again. “You’ll find another lead.”
“Yeah. Course we will.”
“I wish my mum was here,” Sam mumbled, getting sleepier.
“We could get her here, Sammy. Tell me where an’ I’ll get ‘er for you.”
“One time I had the mumps. She never left me, even though Dad was away an’ she had chores to do.”
“She sounds like a good woman, your mum. Where is she now? I’m sure she’d want to be with you.”
Sam had let his head roll onto Gene’s hand so all he could do now was brush his cheek with his thumb. “Far away. Too far.” For the first time Gene wondered if maybe Sam’s mother was already dead. He never spoke of his father, like Gene never spoke of his, so it must have been just his mother. If she was gone, if Sam had no one, Gene couldn’t leave him here on his own. Not in his last hours.
Yet if Gene stayed here, he couldn’t solve the case then, could he? He needed to be out, pounding the streets, pounding down suspects. If Sam had any chance, it was with Gene.
“Sam? Sammy?” Gene slowly pulled his hand out from under Tyler’s head, causing him to groan. “I have to go now. I have to go fix this.”
Sam nodded once, feebly, then shuddered from another painful spasm. Gene had never seen him so weak and open. Not Tyler. Not the man who kept his emotions locked up in a neat, little box. Who ignored them, pushed them aside until he was forced to deal with them. Hell, that was the Tyler who came to work this morning. Denying anything was wrong, determined to solve this whole mess on his own. That Tyler was gone now. Now he was just Sam. Just a boy, clinging to life by a thread. No, Gene had never seen him so hurt like this, never, except...
You don’t want me to leave but I have to leave, Gene.
*
They had waited for him in the lobby. Ray and Chris no doubt chain-smoking through their entire packs of ciggies, if the number of butts on the floor was anything to go by.
“Carling! Skelton!”
They looked at him expectantly but said nothing.
“Go up to ‘is room. Docs will show you where. Cartwright, you’re with me.”
They all looked at each other in confusion. Gene could easily see they thought he had completely lost it.
“Guv--” Ray started.
“I told ‘im he wasn’t alone on this an’ ‘e won’t be! Now go up there an’ sit with ‘im til I come back for yeh. Let’s go Nancy Drew.” He didn’t wait for anymore questions as he barreled out the door, Cartwright trailing behind. She nervously followed him into the car and quickly buckled her seatbelt.
“Uhm, sir, I was just...why me, Guv?”
“I may need a woman’s touch.” The Cortina peeled away from the hospital, leaving a trail of smoke and rubber in his wake.
*
Gene pounded furiously on the door until it was opened.
“Can I help you?”
“When’s the last time you heard from your husband, Mrs. Tyler?”
______
Part 9