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Fans of Life On Mars
Fic: Gray Matter (1/4), green cortina, dakfinv and culf 
28th-May-2008 04:07 pm

Title: Gray Matter (1/4)
Authors: dak and

Word Count: 5138, this part 
Rating: green cortina
Warnings: angst, a bit of slighly disturbing imagery
Spoilers: set after 2.08
Pairing: Sam/Gene
A/N: "So, in our fic, do you want to cause Sam just mental pain or--" "Physical pain! Physical pain!" That was an actual conversation, and it was culf who jumped in with the idea for physical pain, just so you know. This fic was started during my ill-advised trip to Norway and Sam is certainly the worse for it. Some ideas partially stolen from this season's final two episodes of "House," but I wouldn't say there are spoilers for House.


 Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4

The air was cold, blowing in heavily from the sea on a dark Friday night, but that was forgotten as soon as he stepped foot inside the pulsing club. The music was being blasted to its fullest. He never thought he wouldn’t be able to enjoy T-Rex, but at the moment the sound was only distracting him from his purpose. He knew why he’d asked to meet him here. It was crowded, noisy. They would be hard to spot and they wouldn’t be overheard.

He was halfway into the club when he spotted him, nervously sipping a pint in a dark corner by the bar. He was a few steps closer when the first crack was heard. It was loud enough to sound even over the noise of the song. Everyone froze where they were as the building began to sway. Someone switched off the record. There was complete silence until another series of creaks and breaks began. Then there was only panic. Though he tried to remain calm, the club goers immediately began to flee, all rushing for the same exit as they felt the floor begin to crumble.

He was pushed to the ground by the surge of flesh from behind and as the pier crumbled beneath the weight of the building, all Sam could think was that the team didn’t expect him back until Tuesday.


The air was cold, the heavy rain drumming into the glistening pavement and cooling anyone outside to the core. None of that mattered inside the stuffy warmth of the pub. The jukebox had broken earlier that week and only the television provided a soft background to the night’s raucous conversations.

As Gene waited for Ray to return with a fresh round, he took a swig from his flask and casually glanced up at the flickering screen, catching a glimpse of the late news. As Ray set the pints on the table, Gene still couldn’t look away from the telly. A pier in Blackpool had collapsed, taking one of the city’s most popular night spots with it, many of the patrons still trapped inside.

He blamed the off taste of the beer on the fact that it must have been the last of the barrel. As he drank his final dregs of the evening, stumbling home to his empty house, he calmed his unwarranted nerves with the fact that Sam was fine, enjoying his much needed holiday in Liverpool.


Pressure. Everything pressing down. Pressing his arms, his legs, his chest. His lungs, he couldn’t breathe, what was left of the floor pushing into his ribs, each intake of breath coated in dust. Noise was muffled. Sight was scarce. Pain was everywhere. He tried to press back, press up, but the world was holding him down, or at least one man-made piece of it. He forced his eyes to focus. There was a bit of light ahead, a glimmer.


"Gene…" He reached forward, needing to reach the light. His muscles pulled, something wrenched inside his chest, and carefully controlled breaths gave way to unmanageable coughs. In the darkness, the dust swirled up inside him, as the spot of light grew brighter. Sam lost consciousness as the firefighter’s torch illuminated his bleeding head.


"Where the bloody hell is Tyler?" Hunt growled, prowling out of his office with a stack of papers in his hand.

"Not due back ‘til tomorrow, Guv," Chris chirped up from his desk, chewing his Juicy Fruit with abandon. 

"Din’t expect the nonce’d actually take a holiday," Ray sneered. "That’d be downright normal of ‘im, wouldn’t it?" He added.

"Maybe he ran off with Cartwright," Chris sniggered. "I thought her sister had the flu last week."

"Don’t think she’d mind givin’ Tyler a bit of tender, lovin’ care," Ray grinned.

Gene dropped the load of folders on Carling’s desk. "That means you’re me second in command, Sergeant, which means you get his share of the paperwork, plus your own."

Ray held back his grumbling as he eyed the stack in front of him.

"Best get cracking, you want to get to the pub ‘fore it’s closed." Gene stalked back into his office, the little animal that had been gnawing on his guts since Saturday, taking another bite of his colon. Sam had rang when he’d checked into his hotel on Friday. There had been no word from him since. That didn’t matter. Sam was on holiday. He was relaxing. He was enjoying himself. He was fine. He’d be at work tomorrow.


Pressure inside. Down his throat. Forcing his chest out. Pushing it back down. Relax, they had told him. Relax, sir, is what he remembers them saying. He couldn’t see them, their voices unfamiliar. He needed his rest. He needed to heal. Heal, they said. He didn’t know from what.

Calm down, Sammy.

He tried to reach for him.

You need to rest.

It hurt too much.

Go back to sleep.

He tried to call out for him.

Sleep, Sam. Sleep.

The tube wouldn’t let him.

I’ll be here when you wake up.

At least his Guv was here.


Tyler wasn’t there. It was nine am, Tuesday morning, and Tyler was not at his desk. It was fine. Gene wasn’t worried. Gladys was probably hung over from his long weekend. Too much drinking. Too much sleep. Hopefully not too much sex, seeing as he hadn’t been with him. 

No. Sam was fine, just late, even though he was never late. Gene waited until ten to call. There was no answer. There could have been traffic on the motorway. Sam was supposed to return last night, but he could have decided to stay an extra night. Wake up early and drive home in the morning. He’d be in by twelve.

At twelve-thirty, Gene broke down the door. The bed was made. There was no suitcase in sight. The clothes he had packed were still missing from his closet. He must have only left Liverpool that morning. He could call the hotel, see what time Tyler had checked out. 

The hotel in Liverpool had no record of a Sam Tyler ever staying there. No one by that name had been registered there, certainly not in the last week. Gene set down the phone and put his fist through the wall.


"Do you know where you are, sir?"

He blinked twice. That meant yes. He did know. He was in hospital. It was the what, why, how and when that were giving him trouble.

"Do you have anyone we can contact for you? Any family?"

He blinked twice, then remembered his mum wasn’t there. He didn’t know how to take back a blink.

"Can you write it down for us?" 

They tried to put a pen in his hand. He moved the hand carefully. He hoped his writing would be clear enough.

"Who’s Gene, sir?"

Gene. For a moment, he didn’t know. The name was familiar but he couldn’t picture a face. He closed his eyes, trying to remember. By the time he did, he was already asleep.


Sam had been fine. He had been happy, Gene thought. They hadn’t discussed that business with Morgan, but they had both understood what was past, was past. At least, Gene had thought they’d both understood. Now Sam was gone. He should have known. Should have known that this holiday, what Sam had said he’d needed, that time alone crap… Gene should have known it was Tyler’s chance to run, and he had taken it. Now he had a four days head start. 

Gene began his pursuit. He rang Hyde.


His mum was crying. He didn’t want her to cry. It made him feel guilty, especially since he knew he deserved it. 

"Sir, are you alright? What’s wrong?" 

He pointed to his mum. If he couldn’t comfort her, maybe the nurse could.

"Okay, just lie back. You have to stay still." She pushed his arm down. "The doctor was hoping you could tell us your name. Can you do that?" The pen was placed in his hand. He managed to write three letters before his hand cramped and the pen fell to the floor. "Sam, that’s a nice name, Sam. Now don’t you worry. You’ll have that tube out in no time and then can tell us all about yourself. Right now, though, you need to sleep, alright?" She squeezed his arm gently and he lowered his eyelids.

His mum still wouldn’t stop crying.


"He never made it to Liverpool on Friday. Least not to the hotel, so it’s safe to assume he’s been missing for six days," the Guv addressed the solemn crowd. "Hyde’s seen nary a hair of ‘im and don’t sound like they’d be too pleased if they had."

"We could pull accident reports from the past week," Annie offered. "When was the last time anyone heard from him?" She pulled out her notebook, hands shaking slightly as she tried to maintain her police woman’s calm.

Ray shrugged and scuffed his shoe, Chris thought hard, staring into space, and Gene fought the urge to lie to his team.

"Friday night," he finally barked out, and all turned to stare.

"Sorry, sir?" Annie asked, pen still hovering above paper.

"He rang up Friday night. Wanted to check up on that Merchant case. Told ‘im to piss off and enjoy himself," he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Did he say where he was?" She pressed.

Gene immediately began to answer that of course he did, the stupid twonk, but suddenly realized that no, Sam actually hadn’t. Gene could remember their conversation explicitly, and had assumed Tyler was in Liverpool, since he’d told him the night before he’d call when he got there. 

"No," was his abrupt reply. 

"Did he sound alright? Was he nervous or agitated—"

"This is bloody Tyler we’re talking about isn’t it? He’s always nervous and agitated!" Gene bellowed, unwilling to admit that he hadn’t been able to notice something must have been off during Sam’s call. "Now, stop blathering to me and go out there and find him! Shift it!" The team knew better than to argue, and Gene left them to it as he disappeared back into his office. He sat at his desk and stared at the phone, daring it to ring. Daring Sam to call him now, tell him he was fine, sorry for all the trouble.

He didn’t.


The grass was damp as the casket was lowered slowly into the ground. So few people had come. His mum was there, his former Superintendent, a priest. He saw Maya briefly, before she slowly walked away.

"Oh, Sammy," his mother cried, no one there who would comfort her. "My beautiful boy. How could you do this?"

"Mum. I’m sorry Mum," Sam called from the other side of the grave. "Please…"

"How could you hurt me like this?"

"I had to go back, Mum. They needed me. I needed them. To save them." His mother couldn’t listen, or refused to hear, as she and the few others backed away from the still open grave. "No! Don’t leave me. Please! Wait!" He tried to go after them but they kept getting further away as the gray sky grew darker. "Don’t leave me alone!" He fell to his knees and began to weep. "Someone please help me," he cried out, but no one came.

"Shh, Sam, shh. The doctor’s on his way."

"Please help me," he begged the nurse, throat scratchy from days of disuse.

"We are, Sam, we are," she smiled.

"Please find him."

"Find who?" She calmed him, stroking his arm.

"Ge…the Guv."

"Where can we find him?"

Sam stared at her face, not seeing it as he wracked his brain. "I don’t know."


"Guv!" Annie shouted, racing into CID with a paper in her hand. 

Gene’s head snapped up from where it had been bent over Ray’s desk. 

"They sent…sent us a list…" she panted, out of breath.

"Cool your knickers, Cartwright," Gene told her, barely maintaining his own calm. "What’ve you got?"

"Blackpool sent us a list of the people injured in that pier collapse, for us to check against our missing persons register."

"Tyler weren’t in Blackpool," Gene cut in, not liking where Cartwright was headed. 

"Well, he’s on the list," she held out the paper. "This is an updated listing they phoned in this morning. There’s a Sam Tyler listed at South Shore Hospital. I can call and—" Annie couldn’t finish her sentence before Gene was out the door. 

It normally took an hour to drive up to the coast. Gene somehow made it in under that. He maintained his composure as he strode through the hospital lobby, firmly demanding from the desk where he could find one Sam Tyler. After a flash of his warrant card and threat to a groin, the young desk clerk had a nurse take him up to the fourth floor.

"I can’t…I can’t stay here!" Cried a familiar voice from the other end of the hall. Gene ignored his guide and raced down the corridor.

"Tyler?" He shouted.

"I have to get home. I have to find Gene."

The doctor and nurses struggled to lie the mess of bandages back down. "Mr. Tyler please, you’ll dislodge your chest tube."

"But I have to find him," he panted, easily weakened and out of breath.

"Sam?" Gene entered the room cautiously, his presence finally noticed by the medical staff and patient.

"Can I help you?" The doctor asked exasperatedly.

"Gene Hunt. His DCI."

He saw the doctor visibly relax. "Thank God. We’ve been hoping someone would show up for him. He’s been in a quite a state."

"…don’t leave me…" Sam mumbled, fighting to stay awake.

Gene ignored the doctor’s continuing words and hurried to his worried DI’s bedside. "Sam, I’m here. Calm down, yeh pillock." He resisted the urge to grab his hand since the staff was still in the room.

Sam lifted his heavy eyes upwards, focusing them on his Guv’s face. "Can…can you find Gene?" He asked hopefully, the bandages wrapped tightly around his head, blood dripping slowly from his ear.

Gene felt his heart freeze. "Sam. It is Gene. I’m here."

"I need…need you to tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I should’ve done…done what I said I was…He’ll never forgive me, will he?" 

"Forgive what, Sammy?" he asked, voice nearly catching in his throat, but Sam was already asleep. 


"He’s suffering from a pneumothorax and fractured skull. He has several other cuts and contusions, but nothing else too severe."

"Why can’t he recognize me?"

“The injury to his brain has resulted in some short term memory loss--”

“Short term?” Gene angrily interjected. “He’s been my Inspector nearly a year. How is that short term?”

“If you would let me finish sir,” the doctor huffed, and Gene felt like finishing him off right there and then. “There might also be some damage to his temporal lobe, which is affecting his system of recognition. Sam knows who you are. He simply can’t identify you.”

“When’s he goin’ to be fixed?” Gene asked, keeping his fists in his pockets.

“That’s more difficult to say. Really, it depends on how quickly Sam’s body can heal, and if his brain is even strong enough to recover from this type of injury.”

“Oh that brain of his is tough alright. More stubborn than a load of bricks.” The Guv peaked in the room to see Tyler sleeping restlessly. “Can he be moved?”

“I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Can you move ‘im back to Manchester. Transfer him, like.”

“I understand you’d like to keep your man close, DCI Hunt, but I’m afraid that in his current condition, it simply isn’t possible.”

“Right,” Gene nodded, hiding his disappointment. “Can he have visitors?”

“Take as long as you need,” the doctor nodded politely and strolled off down the hall.

Gene quickly steeled himself and reentered Tyler’s room, closing the door behind him. Sam wriggled in his sleep, the look of pain spread across his face a permanent fixture. Gene stood by the bed, gently taking Sam’s hand now that they were alone. His skin was gray, cold to the touch, and his face was pockmarked with the scars of his ordeal, an accident he should’ve had no part in.

“What the bloody hell were you doin’ in Blackpool, Tyler?” He hoped no one could see the confusion on his face.

“...went to see him...” Sam muttered and shifted uncomfortably on the firm mattress.

“Him?” Gene questioned, but Sam was lost to sleep. Worry turned to confusion which was quickly contorted into jealousy. The Guv decided it was time to inform the team he’d found their errant DI and abandoned Sam in order to find a working phone.


“I had to do it, Mum. I had to save them.”

One shovelful.

“You could have told me, Sam. I’m your mother. Couldn’t you have trusted me?”

Two shovelfuls.

“You would’ve thought I was mad,” he said weakly, staring up at her.

“You are mad, Sam,” replied a much younger voice from behind. He spun to see her and her clown standing on the opposite edge. His mother threw more dirt into the grave.

“Would it have been so bad to let them die?” She tilted her head, and Sam spotted Ray’s corpse propped in the far left corner. His mother covered the body with dirt. “They didn’t even like you. Not really. They hated you, didn’t they?”

“No. They were angry with me. They had a right to be angry with me, but they never hated me,” he argued. He loosened the tie on his constricting twenty-first century suit.

“Is that really what you think?” She tilted her head to the other side, and Chris’ lifeless form appeared in the far right corner. His mother continued heaving soil into the open grave. “Did you think they’d so easily forgive your betrayal?”

“We’ve been trying! It wasn’t instant, no, but it’s getting better,” he shouted at her, glancing from the little girl to his tired mother. “Make her stop. Let her rest! Can’t you see it’s hurting her?” He screamed as he watched Ruth struggling to lift the heavy shovel.

“Of course it hurts, Sam,” she smiled and nodded again. Now Annie’s body was with him in the grave. “It always hurts when those we love let us down.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t let them die. I had to take responsibility for my actions!”

“Atonement can be very tricky, can’t it Sam?” She tsked. “You may have fixed it there, but who will fix it here? Will she?” The girl pointed to his failing mother. “Or will she?” She pointed to her right and there Maya stood, now also helping to fill the grave. “Or maybe he will,” she pointed to her left, where a young Vic Tyler had joined in the burial, dumping scoops of dirt right onto Sam.


“Or him?” Frank Morgan was there now, his grim smile in place as he calmly added his fill to the still open grave.

“Stop. Stop it!” He screamed, failing to avoid the falling dirt.

“You say you love them, Sam.” She motioned to the bodies with him in the grave. “You say you want them to trust you. But if that’s true, why are you trying so hard to disappoint them?” She asked honestly. “Why do you want to disappoint him?” She looked beyond Sam, to the cold mass of flesh behind him.

“No,” Sam shook his head, tears welling in his eyes as he stared at Gene’s stiff corpse.”

“You said you were sorry. You told him you loved him.”

Sam slowly crossed the short distance between them and crouched by Gene’s side.

“Were you lying again?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I meant it. I did.” He reached for Gene’s hand, flinching as his warm skin touched the unfeeling flesh.

“Then why did you do it? Why did you lie to him?”

“I...” Sam kneeled next to the body, reaching out to brush tangled blond hair from dead, green eyes.

“You wanted to hurt him again, didn’t you? You wanted him to hurt because you always hurt.”

“I’m sorry...” The tears began to trickle down his cheeks.

“If he hurts too, then you won’t be alone.”

“I’m sorry, Gene,” he whispered and began to crawl into the corpse’s arms.

“Poor Sammy. Will he never be happy?”

He nestled himself against Gene’s chest, carefully avoiding the wounded leg.

“Will he always be lonely?”

He draped a stiffening arm over his shoulder and hugged Gene around the waist in a macabre embrace.

“Will he always fight for despair?”

Sam lay there, refusing to let Gene go.


Ignoring all around him.


Letting the dry soil slowly cover him.

Snap out of it, Tyler.

Suffocating him.

C’mon, Sam. Wake up.


Gene couldn’t let go if he wanted to. Sam, lost in his delusion, had secured himself tightly to his Guv’s waist and seemed unable to let go. The doctor had warned that hallucinations could accompany such an injury, especially if the brain continued to be stressed. Tyler certainly had not been relaxing since his admission into the hospital.

His injuries had only served to exacerbate his easily agitated disposition. This, coupled with the fact that Sam was unable to recognize anyone around him (including the doctors and nurses who had been treating him), was taking a strain on his already fragile body. If something didn’t break soon, it would be Sam who’d be irreparable.


“What were ‘e doing in Blackpool?” Chris wondered aloud. “Din’t Guv say he was going to Liverpool?”

“Div could’ve changed his mind,” Ray shrugged, chomping his gum with fierce abandon. “Look,” Carling addressed the gathered CID crowd. “It don’t matter why he were there. What matters is he was. He was in that club when the pier went down, an’ now he’s holed up in some hospital over there till docs says he can come home.”

“Which is?” Annie asked, acting much stronger than Ray usually gave her credit for.

“Guv didn’t know. He didn’t say when he was coming back, either. Told me I was in charge till then, that’s all.”

The crowd shifted nervously.

“Which’ll probably be later tonight. Only wants to make sure Tyler’s being looked after, is all.”

“Is he going to die?” Chris asked softly. Annie smiled through held back tears and grabbed his hand.

“I don’t--” Ray started.

“Cos, if he is, I’d like to see ‘im, ‘fore he does.” Chris looked straight at Ray, doing his best to be brave.

“The Guv said he’s made it through the worst of it--”

“So we weren’t there when he needed us,” Chris noted grimly.

“He’s made it through the worst,” Ray repeated gruffly. “An’ he’s doing alright now, but docs don’t want to move ‘im yet. That’s why he has to stay out there.”

“Did he say what DI Tyler’s injuries were?” Anne prodded.

“No, but the Guv didn’t seem worried,” Ray lied. “Course, he’ll have our balls in a sling if we don’t get these reports finished,” he nodded to a stack of files beside him. “ ‘Cept you, Cartwright, but whatever he’ll do to your tits will probably be just as painful. So, er, get crackin’,” Ray tried to speak with authority but still, no one moved. He wasn’t sure if it was because they were in shock or if it was because they weren’t going to listen to him. “I said, let’s shift it!” He growled again and this time they got their arses into gear. Ray nodded in approval, then grabbed his own file and plopped down at his desk.

Leave it to Tyler to get himself seriously injured while on holiday, and in a city a good hour’s drive away, no less. He knew the Guv would be spending a good part of his time now simply driving back and forth between Manchester and Blackpool, at least until the Boss was released. Ray had worked with Hunt long enough to know how much Gene distrusted hospitals and how devoted he was to his men, even if it was only a snivelling git like DI Tyler.

He could only hope the twat healed quickly so the Guv would be able to focus his attention back on his city. Yes, that was the only reason he hoped Tyler recovered.


It was close to five o’clock and as much as Gene wanted to stay, he knew he still needed to drive back to Manchester, have time to answer to his team and to his wife, and still get extraordinarily pissed.

The hospital staff had been kind enough, or wise enough, not to question why DCI Hunt had allowed his delusional Inspector to cling to him for a good three hours. Sam was distraught, they all agreed. If Mr. Hunt forced him away it would only upset him more, hinder his recovery. That Gene Hunt must be a good, caring man to accept their patient’s strange actions. For once, Gene was thankful his reputation did not stretch as far as the coast. His behavior here would have been impossible to explain in Manchester.

Certain Sam was asleep, or at least unconscious, Gene lifted the limp man up and positioned him carefully on the bed, making sure none of the tubes sticking out of him were tangled, and that he looked to be in a relatively comfortable position.

“Where are you going?”

Gene looked down to see Sam blearily staring up at him. “Sam?” Gene froze to the spot, waiting to hear more from this DI.

“Where are you going?” he repeated with a bit more effort.

“I have to get back to Manchester,” he replied calmly.

“Manchester...We’re not in Manchester?” Sam asked, trying to prop himself up in the bed. “No. Wait. This is...it’s Blackpool, isn’t it?”

Gene set an extra pillow behind Sam’s back, helping him sit up. “That’s right.”

“I can’t stand Blackpool,” Sam moaned, then sighed heavily. “ ‘Specially in the Seventies.”

“Then why’d you come here?” Gene waited uncomfortably for an answer.

“You’re going to Manchester, you said?” Sam stared at him, some clarity returning to his eyes, though he hadn’t seemed to hear Hunt’s question.

“Yeah. I have to--”

“Could you go to the police station there and ask to speak with DCI Gene Hunt? If he refuses to see you, tell him it’s concerning his DI. DI Sam Tyler.” Sam winced slightly as unseen pain wracked his body. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and continued to speak through the pain. “He should see you then. At least I...Tell him I’m here, in Blackpool, and the name of the hospital.” Sam dropped his hand and looked around the room. “What hospital is this?”

“South Shore Hospital,” Gene answered, his mouth dry as he leapt from the chair, unable to bear sitting in the room any longer.

“Are you leaving?” Sam asked in slight surprise.

“I have to get back to Manchester,” Gene replied gruffly, looking at the floor, the door, the wall. Anywhere but at Sam.

“Could you go to the police station there and ask to speak with DCI Gene Hunt? If he refuses to see you, tell him it’s concerning his DI. DI Sam Tyler.”

Gene couldn’t listen as he yanked open the door and stepped into the hall.

“Tell him I’m here!” Sam called after him. “In Blackpool! And the name of the hospital--”

Gene shut the door behind him and stood there a moment looking as blank as Sam.

“Mr. Hunt?” One of Sam’s nurses approached him. “Are you leaving for the day, sir?” she smiled sweetly.

“Call me when he’s fixed,” Gene snapped harshly, causing the petit woman to jump back in shock. He didn’t wait any longer, sweeping out of the hospital with the force of a tornado, not caring if he left any destruction in his wake.


The nurses were very kind. They checked on him constantly and were always offering to bring him extra pillows, extra blankets, or extra snacks. He wondered if nurses would still be this kind in 2006. They certainly weren’t when he’d been in hospital then.

His doctor came to check on him every so often as well, shining a small light in his eyes, making a note on his chart, and asking him how his head felt. He also checked the stitches on his side. Sam asked what they were for, had he been injured there, but the doctor smiled and said that was where his chest tube had been.

Sam nodded in understanding and thanked the doctor as he left. As he stared out the window, he wondered when anyone from the station would come to visit him. He stared out the window until the nurses came to see him.
The nurses were very kind. They checked on him constantly and were always offering to bring him extra pillows, extra blankets, or extra snacks. He wondered if nurses would still be this kind in 2006. They certainly weren’t when he’d been in hospital then.

His doctor came to check on him every so often as well, shining a small light in his eyes, making a note on his chart, and asking him how his head felt. He also checked the stitches on his side. Sam asked what they were for, had he been injured there, but the doctor smiled and sighed, and said that was where his chest tube had been.

Sam nodded in understanding and thanked the doctor as he left. As he stared out the window, he wondered when anyone from the station would come to visit him. He stared out the window until the nurses came to see him.

The nurses were very kind. They checked on him constantly and were always offering to bring him extra pillows, extra blankets, or extra snacks. He wondered if nurses would still be this kind in 2006. They certainly weren’t when he’d been in hospital then.

His doctor came to check on him every so often as well, shining a small light in his eyes, making a note on his chart, and asking him how his head felt. He also checked the stitches on his side. Sam asked what they were for, had he been injured there, but the doctor sighed and frowned, and said that was where his chest tube had been.

Sam nodded in understanding and thanked the doctor as he left. As he stared out the window, he wondered when anyone from the station would come to visit him. He stared out the window until the nurses came to see him.

The nurses were very kind.

Part 2

master playstation
28th-May-2008 08:24 pm (UTC)
It needs to be said that Dak has written it all, I've just made a couple of suggestions along the way.
30th-May-2008 08:26 pm (UTC)
Stop trying to pass off the blame. I've posted the next part. It turns out it's going to be three parts. Whoops. I guess these things happen.
28th-May-2008 09:23 pm (UTC)
Mental and physical anguish. You guys are a dangerous combination. When's part 2 going to make an appearance?

Edited at 2008-05-28 09:23 pm (UTC)
30th-May-2008 08:27 pm (UTC)
I just wanted to cause him mental anguish, but she was quite persuasive. Part 2 is up, but unfortunately there are going to be at least 3 parts now.
28th-May-2008 11:14 pm (UTC)
Social Services will be along shortly to place Sam in protective custody.

Damn dak, you and culf have been rough on the poor boy the last few days. If your writing wasn't so good I would wonder what was wrong with me for enjoying the abuse so much.

Hurry up and post part 2, please?
30th-May-2008 08:29 pm (UTC)
No! Don't take our Sam away! I'll fight for him!

Culf is trying to think of something fluffy to do for Sam. I, however, am just plotting more angst.

*Hides Sammy in secret basement cupboard*
29th-May-2008 12:24 am (UTC)
This is fantastic. You've really got the voices down. Love the angst.
30th-May-2008 08:29 pm (UTC)
Thanks very much! :)
29th-May-2008 12:55 am (UTC)
*More* Sam abuse? I think I better call the police and have you charged with assult... :-D

("DCI Hunt? I want to report a crime...")
30th-May-2008 08:30 pm (UTC)
The police shall never find our hidden lair! ;)
At least, we hope not...
29th-May-2008 04:16 am (UTC)
Bloody hell, Sam's taking a bit of a beating lately. This was fantastic, and I'll join the queue waitinf gor the second part.
30th-May-2008 08:30 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! It must be Sam bashing week I guess. :)
29th-May-2008 06:20 am (UTC)
Crap, you sure do like to do terrible things to poor Sam! But you do it so very well. This is amazing, the angst of it all. I don't know that a Part 2 would be good as you've ended it so well. Very effective, the repetition.
30th-May-2008 08:31 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I usually try to put him back together at the end, though. Well, at least sometimes. ;)
29th-May-2008 07:34 am (UTC)
Argh! Teh angst, it burns! Poor Sam and Gene :(

Great fic so far, I'm am very intrigued to see where this is going to go from here, and to find out what secrets Sam had been keeping.

Roll on part 2!
30th-May-2008 08:32 pm (UTC)
Thank you!!
29th-May-2008 09:41 am (UTC)
Awwwww, poor Sam! He's such a trouble magnet, isn't he?
Loved the angst and the short-term memory loss, btw. Well done, both of you.

More soon, plz!
30th-May-2008 08:32 pm (UTC)
Thanks very much! We aim to please. And torture. But mostly please. :)
29th-May-2008 10:37 am (UTC)
This is fantastic, the angst when Gene finally snaps and poor sam stuck in a loop at the end when Gene finally snaps and poor sam stuck in a loop at the end when Gene finally snaps and poor sam stuck in a loop at the end...

[couldn't resist ;) ]

I wonder who Sam was meeting at the club though, can't wait for part two
30th-May-2008 08:33 pm (UTC)
Thank you! So glad you liked it.
29th-May-2008 12:25 pm (UTC)
This is so good, a wonderful heart-wrenching story and very cleverly done as well. I like the subtle little touches in the repetition, where the doctor first "smiled" and then "smiled and sighed" and then "sighed and frowned".

Poor Sam; and poor Gene as well - he really doesn't handle fear very well, does he. I do hope you manage to fix Sam, for his sake and Gene's. Although, knowing how evil you like to be with this poor man, I don't know if I'm being realistic here. With some writers *holds up hands* you always know they'll pull out a happy ending somehow. Can't say I have the same faith here, but it's a really good piece of work anyway!
30th-May-2008 08:36 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! We could put Sam together. It really could happen. We didn't intend for the story to get this angsty, but the bunny kept mutating and we couldn't stop it, which never seems to bode well for Sam.
29th-May-2008 01:11 pm (UTC)
I waited until I had the proper time to sit down and really read this piece and I am so glad I did.

There is so much I love about it, but my favorite is the image of Sam clinging to Gene for three hours and Gene just letting him. Gene is afraid, so afraid and without actually stating that you really showed it very well. And his frustration at Sam not knowing who he is when he sees his face, when he has been sitting and holding him half the day, that is just spot on stuff. I really adore your Gene, he is so true to character.

And your Ray? Perfect, Chris and Annie too, but specifically Ray.

Oh and small bit of squee here, my husband works at a South Shore Hospital and now in my head Sam is there and that, as bad as he is and all, makes me delirously happy for some reason. Hah.

I can not wait to see who he was meeting in the club or why for that matter.

Edited at 2008-05-29 01:13 pm (UTC)
30th-May-2008 08:38 pm (UTC)
the image of Sam clinging to Gene for three hours and Gene just letting him
That was culf's idea. She loves it when Gene lets Sam hold onto him when in a fragile state.

I'm so glad you liked it and that the hospital does actually exist! We just Google'd hospitals in/near Blackpool and that one popped up.

Thank you!
30th-May-2008 07:10 am (UTC)
Fantastic writing. Can't help wondering what Sam has done to need Gene's forgiveness. I wondered if he'd been meeting Vic, but can't see why that would upset Gene.

Love the repetition at the end, with the slight changes to the doctor's reaction to make us aware of time passing.

Can I has part two nao pls?
30th-May-2008 08:39 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! Part 2 is up now.
31st-May-2008 05:54 am (UTC)
*sobs pitifully*

Best bits:

All of Sam's hallucinations. Especially when he's being buried. Ah...Ah God. Heartbreaking. Just fucking heartbreaking.

...Told me I was in charge till then, that’s all.”

The crowd shifted nervously.
*falls over laughing* Sweet break from all the awesome angst.

Sam telling Gene to tell Gene he was sorry and where he was. You have to wonder if the fact that Gene left before he finished asking him hurt. Course, he probably forgot three seconds later.

That last part. With Sam being forgetful and repeating everything. Beyond words, that bit is.

Anyway, I can tell right now, I'm gonna love this.
1st-Jun-2008 05:16 am (UTC)
Gah! I see you decided upon a horrible mixture of both mental and emotional and physical pain, then, did you? The dream sequences were absolutely perfect - everyone filling in the grave was just a chilling visual, and the way that things kept repeating and reversing and disappearing for Sam, the way he had to keep asking, was just frightening, and Gene's reaction, just running and trying to block it all out, was perfectly in character and very well done.
2nd-Jun-2008 03:31 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I wanted to go for just mental/emotional pain this time, but culf insisted on physical as well. Glad you liked the dream sequences! I'm never sure if they work or not.
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