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What Goes Around...; And old enemy returns to haunt Sam...
Topic Started: Mar 10 2015, 01:35 PM (5,376 Views)
Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*It's been a month now since Sam made his decision and took a leap of faith into this world that had grown onto him without him even realising it at first. And within that month, not much has changed. Work is still exhausting and, at times, outrageous - you wouldn't believe the standards that weren't existant at the time - his work colleagues are still exhausting and, at times, outrageous (when will Ray ever learn that fart jokes are not funny), and most of all, his superior is still majorly exhausting, and nearly always outrageous. Period.

But Sam wouldn't want to have it any other way.

... well.

There is that small matter of him finding himself more and more attracted to his DCI, the more time passes, and it's starting to become a problem. Sometimes, Sam finds himself daydreaming about confronting Gene in Lost and Found, pushing right into his personal space, grabbing his tie, and.................

But it can't happen, can it. Not with this man, not in this time.

He's becoming a little desperate though, to be honest. He's even found himself eyeing the entrance to Canal Street at times, but so far hasn't had the courage to actually go there. Hell, he isn't even gay. Is he? It's hard to tell. The fact is, things haven't worked out with Annie (maybe it's part of his mystery being gone? But no, Annie isn't that type, surely), though they're still friends, so now there is nothing standing in between Sam and Gene anymore.

Except for Gene himself, of course.

Sam sighs, taken the steps up to the station. Another day, another endless set of hours of fighting, bringing peace to the city, and trying not to ogle his Guv's backside. Despite himself, Sam smiles, shaking his head as he enters the station. Maybe he shouldn't give up hope. No, he definitely shouldn't give up hope. If he is the man who jumped through time, then maybe he can also be the man who kissed Gene Hunt and survived to tell the tale.

Inspired by these thoughts, Sam takes the stairs up to the office - noting with slight confusion that Phyllis isn't at her post - and then strides into CID, only to find that he is greated by hectic activity and frustrated talking and shouting. Sam stops in his tracks, frowning. What...? In the corner of his eye, he notices Annie approaching him.

"What 'appened?"

She looks at him with big, distressed eyes, ready to continue downstairs for whatever task she's been appointed, but she still has enough time to tell him.

"It's Kim Trent. Remember 'im? Word is 'e escaped prison."

Sam blinks, a horrible feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. Trent... of course he remembers Trent. The case that turned things around for Sam, early on. If he really 'escaped'...

Annie is already gone, so Sam makes his way over to Gene's office, pushing open the door.

"Guv - what's this about Trent?"*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Coughs still shaking him, it takes Sam a few seconds to get himself under enough control to accept the glass of water, the drinking happening almost automatically. However, he manages to get down just a few sips - his throat feels unbearably tight and raw, and it would probably be hurting if it wasn't for the painkillers.

Sam swallows dryly once more before turning his head away, for one to indicate that he doesn't need any more water, and for another to be able to properly look at Annie.

She's... She's still blurry. Sam blinks, then clumsily reaches up with his good hand, in an attempt to rub at his eyes, but the wash of white down his wrist makes him hesitate.

Something's not right. The big blank space in his mind stirs, almost angrily, trying to keep Sam out... But now, Sam can't help but probe further. He's in hospital... He feels... He feels shit. What.... *
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Gene Hunt
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*Annie's heart sinks a little as Sam notices the bandage around his hand and wrist. It almost looks as though Sam doesn't remember what happened...he looks lost.

She smiles sympathetically, a forced look. Now isn't the time to explain this to Sam... Not unless he asks. His mind needs to rest just as his body does.

"Don't worry about that, okay? Everything's attached and healing. Nothing's under there that won't heal. I promise."

Though how can she promise? She's not even seen it for herself yet. Of course she knows shad the doctor said, but... *
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam focuses on Annie again, his hand still hovering where it is. She's saying not to worry...

And the truth is, Sam wants to do as she says. He's still out of it, feeling the effects of the painkillers, and just not thinking about anything would suit him just fine.

However...

Sam finishes what he started, rubbing at his eyes a bit haphazardly (and wincing as that upsets bruises in his face - bruises he hadn't realised were even there), then carefully lowers his arm again and looks up at Annie. And finally, he's able to focus on her without his vision going blurry.

She looks... worried. Pale. It makes sense, in some way, but it doesn't explain Sam's own discomfort.

Not thinking about it would suit him just fine, but now that he's begun to notice things, he has to know. He can't live with this blank space, it's choking him, filling him with anxiety. He needs to know.

So, ignoring his urge to just let it go, to close his eyes again, Sam licks his lips before attempting to speak again.*

.. what...... *he breaks off, somewhat startled. Even with having drank the water, his voice sounds... horrible. Raspy, broken, like a fraction of what it's supposed to be. Still, he awkwardly tries to clear his throat, then continues* ...... wh-what 'appened......? Why........

*It's strange - the thought of being in hospital confuses him two different ways. One because he can't remember what even happened, and two because... because he knows what happened - or rather, he knows that being in hospital wasn't the logical thing to follow what happened.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam doesn't remember...

Annie knows deep down that of course it's going to take some time for everything to come back to him. The trauma he's been through, no wonder he can't remember right away. But it doesn't stop her from swallowing with regret. She's going to have to be the one to remind him, isn't she.

Should she even say anything? Maybe he should just try and forget about it until he's had some more rest...

But no. She knows Sam, and he's going to want to know. He's going to demand it. So after a pause, she begins carefully.*

You.... We found you.

Kim Trent. Do you remember?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam keeps looking at Annie, a faint frown on his face.

Found him?

Trent... Kim Trent.

That's right, they were... he'd broken out of prison, they were looking for him... Sam blinks, frowning harder - he'd insisted on moving... Leonard, moving Leonard to a different address...

...

... address......

"Tell me! Tell us the address!"

Sam's eyes widen as he draws in a startled breath.

Trent. Trent had... He........ he had.............................

Sam stares at Annie, helplessly opening his mouth and closing it again, as memories, or at least fragments of them, start rushing at him, blowing away the blank space in his mind like wind blows apart fog.*
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Gene Hunt
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*The cogs turning in Sam's mind are reflected in his face like a mirror, and Annie can see it clearly. Dammit, she can't let him spiral now. Not when he's only just woken up...!*

Oh, Sam... Oh no, no... It's okay, don't worry...!

*But her words sound hollow even to her own ears. What Sam went through is too horrible to be soothed with mere words. There isn't anything she can say to help. But there isn't anything else she can do.*

He's put away, Sam.... We got him, he's far away from here...
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam draws a shakey breath, his wide eyes still fixed on Annie's face - except, he doesn't even see her. A swirl of memories is taking him down, words and shouting and cruel laughter, and pain, above it all, drawn out horrible pain.

And loneliness. Sitting in the dark, enduring the pain, screaming for help, for salvation, for... For Gene.

Where's Gene? Why isn't he here?

Sam wants to ask, wants to know what happened, because he can't remember being saved, it's all just pain and wanting to die, and now being here seems unreal. Annie seems unreal.

But Sam can't ask, can't find his voice. His body is rigid, his throat and chest tight with the force of his memories,the flashes of them preventing him from even really seeing Annie. There's a prickling sensation in his wide unblinking eyes, and moments later a tear rolls down the side of his face.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Annie's heart drops along with Sam's tear, her own eyes threatening to well up. Seeing Sam in this state cuts her like a knife.

What can she do to help him??"

Oh Sam... *she wipes the tear away with her finger, letting her hand rest on his cheek.*

I'll... I'll get a nurse... Just hold on, okay?

*panicked, she stands and rushes from the room, returning a few seconds later with a nurse in tow.

"He just woke up - but he's upset, you have to help him!"

The nurse is by Sam's side immediately, leaning over him and feeling at his forehead.

"mr Tyler, can you hear me?"*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam flinches when Annie's hand touches the side of his face - as though he was expecting an impact instead of the gentle gesture.

Then that's gone, and fear shoots through him, that all of this is just a dream and that he'll wake up and be back in that world of pain and dread. Sam tries to call out, but once again his voice fails him. He didn't want to come back to this, he wanted to die, for it to be over... not for there to be false hope....!!

And then there's another touch. Once again Sam flinches and squeezes his eyes shut, as though trying to get away, as though he's expecting a slap or a punch, and the nurse's voice sounds distorted to his panicked mind, her words unintelligible.

Finally, words find their way out of his mouth, tumbling out, his voice thin and broken and fearful*

No, please, I told you, no, no, please, no, please....

Edited by Sam Tyler, Jul 20 2015, 03:40 PM.
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Gene Hunt
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*Annie thinks she can feel her heart break. Oh Sam....

Suddenly she wishes Gene were back here. He may not be the most sensitive soul outwardly, but he has a way with Sam. He can communicate with him in a way nobody else can. Why isn't he here...

The nurse frowns as she takes in Sam's appearance, hears his jumbled plea. There's only one thing she can do. She turns to Annie and says gently,

"He's not fully with us. I may have to give him a light sedative, see if we can calm him a bit..."*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Annie hesitates - she wants to say that Sam was there recognised her... Until he slipped away. Until she made him remember.

The guilt that's washing through her makes it hard to speak, and so she simply nods. Seeing Sam like this is torture, and if this is the only way to give him relief...

Sam is breathing heavily, twisting slightly in his bed as another tear runs down his cheek, his mind fighting against the onslaught of memories. It's a maddening swirl of pictures and sensations, some things superimposed, others so blurry he can't make them out, but the sense of dread is overarching, and as he loses himself more and more, he can feel actual pain starting to pulse through him - emanating from his hands, wrists, his back... God, his back......

Sam groans helplessly, pressing his head into the pillow and pleading, both in his mind and out loud, for this to stop, he doesn't want it, he can't do it anymore, he told them, he can't, Gene, please, Gene, help me...!*
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Gene Hunt
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*The groan decides it. If her patient is in pain, the nurse is going to have to do something about it.

Determined, she looks at Annie.

"I'll give him a painkiller and mild sedative. He's going to have to come to terms with what happened, but not today. "

Giving the both of them a sympathetic look, she moves over to the ward cupboard and starts to fill up a syringe.

"Unless there's anything else you can think of that'll calm him down?" *
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*It's like an electric shock when Sam gasps out Gene's name, over and over. Annie stares down at him, speechless, before looking at the nurse, unable to respond for a moment.

Then, however, she shakes her head. "Please, do what you have to... I, uhm, I'll go call my superior, he'll want to know Sam's woken up..."

A nod at the nurse, and then Annie is out of the room, hurrying down the hallway to find the reception desk, and by extension, a phone. A few minutes later, she's waiting anxiously - Phyllis out her through to the Guv's phone, but will he still be at the office...?

"C'mon Guv... Please...!"

--

In the room, Sam is growing increasingly more distressed - now that the painkillers have worn off, with how he's been squirming in his bed, his back feels like it's being set on fire, and when he tries to grab at the sheets, pain explodes from his left hand, drawing a strangled cry from him.*
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Gene Hunt
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*In Sam's room, the nurse finally makes her decision. She can't have her patient in this much pain.

With a grim sigh, she moves forward and presses the needle into the cannula in Sam's good hand, pressing the plunger down slowly.

"Okay, Mr Tyler, okay.... Give this a second and you'll feel better. It'll make you sleepy again, so just don't fight it - let yourself relax...."

-----

Meanwhile at the station, Gene is in his office nursing a glass of Scotch and a spinning head. He shouldn't have gotten angry with Leonard, he knows that and he regrets it. But if he doesn't blame Leonard, then who? Sam? Himself? He doesn't even want to think about that - once he starts going down that route there's no going back.

He should be at the hospital. He should be watching Sam wake up. Has he even opened his eyes yet? Dammit... He wants to be there, he wants to see. But he knows that as soon as he lays eyes on Sam his heart will do that little flip thing that it does, and he's not ready to confront what that might mean just yet.

The phone startles him out of his mental dilemma though, and with his heart beating slightly faster than normal, he grabs the receiver.*

What?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam doesn't realise what the nurse is doing, his eyes shut tightly against the pain. Her words, however, do somehow reach him - not consciously, but there is something telling him not to fight, and God, doesn't that sound just too appealing? Stop fighting, let yourself be dragged down... Fighting was no use, fighting was what hurt him. If he stops fighting, it'll be okay...

But then, when he stopped fighting that last time, there had been a flaring, burning pain, like he'd been thrown into acid.

The thought makes Sam groan one last time - Gene, no, please, Gene--

And then he's pulled under by the painkiller, his muscles slowly relaxing of their own accord. He sinks back onto the mattress, exhaling shakily. A few seconds later, he's back asleep, the damp trails down his cheeks the only evidence that he was ever awake.*

--

*When she hears Gene's gruff voice through the receiver, Annie almost sighs with relief.

"Guv, it's me. Sam, he... He woke up, but he got distressed when he started remembering what 'appened, and..." Annie swallows, not quite knowing how to say this, but knowing that she has to do it. "Guv, you 'ave to come back here - Sam was calling your name, over and over." She pauses again, having to let those words sink in for herself as well. "You 'ave to be there when he wakes up again."*
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Gene Hunt
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*awake. Sam was awake. Gene's eyes widen suddenly, and he's about to ask how he is when Annie continues, he words a nonstop stream of bad news and heartache.

Sam was calling his name.

And he wasn't there.

Throat hoarse all of a sudden, Gene croaks *

.... How long 'til he does?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Annie shakes her head, eyes prickling uncomfortably.

"I don't know. The nurse was gonna give 'im another light sedative and painkillers, so it could be hours... " She trails off helplessly - there's no way the Guv will stay at the hospital this long, way past anything that could be considered a normal time... *
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Gene Hunt
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*hours... It could be hours until Sam wakes up.. But he wants Gene there.

Torn, Gene frowns down at his desk. Surely if he stays that long people are going to find it odd. They're just work colleagues in other people's eyes.

But it's Sam. It's his Sam, and Sam needs him.

Conflicted, he asks about the orne thing that he picked up on.*

...He was in pain then?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Annie swallows with some difficulty*

... Yes. He... He was moving about too much, I think, must've been due for a top-up too...

*Annie trails off, her courage waning quickly. The Guv keeps asking all those questions... He won't come, surely.*

... I'm sorry, I shouldn't 'ave called, I... *she exhales , trying to gather herself* I'm just worried. He seemed to be in such a bad way... Sorry.

*And she's more than ready to just out down the receiver now, but something makes her hesitate - on the off chance that Gene will say something, say that he's on his way...*
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Gene Hunt
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*each piece of new information makes Gene's heart sink a little lower. Damn, Sam... What a bloody mess. What a tragic, horrible mess.

The word slips from Gene's mouth before he even realises he's about to say it.*

Wait.

*And there, he's said it now. He's stopped Annie from putting the phone down. Why did he do that!?

Sam. Sam's why.

He lets out a frustrated breath, shaking his head. He's going to do this isn't he.*

I'll come. Relieve you of your watch for a bit.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Annie hesitates when she hears Gene's command. Is he really going to...?

There's a stretch of silence, and then--

Annie can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, hardly able to believe it.*

Thanks, Guv. I appreciate it.

*And she does. Not just because Sam needs it, but also because she's so very tired... Stepping out of the room has made her notice it properly. Getting a bit of a break will do her a world of good... She'll be able to come back and watch over Sam properly again.*

I'll stay 'ere til you arrive.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene almost resents the relief in Annie's voice - he knows she didn't think he'd come back, but for some reason that makes a prickle of annoyance creep up inside him.

But she's happy he's coming back, so he can't be too irritated. And it sounds like he'll be alone with Sam for a bit, too. Now if he could just wake up. He needs to check on his deputy.*

Right. Keep the seat warm.

*He hangs up, taking a moment to breathe. Why are his emotions going haywire at the moment? He gets the concern for Sam, though maybe not the extent of it - but it's like his reactions are heightened. He just wants to get back to Sam.

After a short drive, Gene's back at the hospital and opening the door to Sam's room.*

Cavalry's here.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Annie had been nodding off slightly in her seat - knowing that Sam will be out of it for at least a couple hours has caused her guard to drop - but when Gene opens the door she here's awake, blinking owlishly at him before smiling apologetically and getting up, rubbing her eyes.*

Sorry, I uh... I thought I'd just close my eyes for a moment...

*She glances down at Sam, but he's still asleep. Good.... That had to be good. He needs all the rest he can get... And hopefully, when he wakes up and sees the Guv there, he'll be better. That's all Annie wants... *

I'll leave you to it then.

*With the Guv having been so on edge all day, Annie doesn't quite know what to say, so she brushes down her skirt and picks up her things before looking at him again.*

...thank you, Guv. For coming in again.

*And then she's out of the room, heading down the hallway. Being in Gene's presence makes her feel somewhat oppressed today, and with everything that's happened, she can't deal with that at the moment. She needs to recover a little herself before she can start worrying about her superiors again...

In the room, Sam shifts slightly as Annie exits the room, but doesn't wake up.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene raises an eyebrow as Annie hurries out of the room. She's clearly noticed the way Gene's been behaving as well. He hadn't done a good job of concealing it has he. Dammit.


With a sigh, Gene crosses the short distance to Sam's bedside and sits down in Annie's chair.

So. Here they are again. And that feeling' s still there, it hasn't gone. He still wants to reach out and touch Sam, his stomach doing a flip when he thinks about it.

Determined not to give in, Gene sticks his hands in his pockets and watches Sam closely, waiting for that moment when he'll wake up.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*About an hour passes by, eventlessly. However, as activity in the hospital starts to die down, the first doctors leaving, and the might shift not quite having arrived yet, Sam begins to stir again. The sedative had been hurriedly administered, and wasn't enough to keep him knocked out for very long.

This time, Sam's awakening is somewhat confused. There are several images in his head, and he can't tell which of them are real, memories, or dreams.

However, he can tell that he's lying down, on top of something soft. And he can tell that he isn't alone.

Sam's head turns, away from Gene at first. Sam exhales audibly, grimacing slightly, before carefully turning his head back. He feels fuzzy... Floating... Not quite real. He doesn't like that feeling. Maybe opening his eyes will help.

So Sam opens his eyes, blinking over at Gene without really seeing him. As before, his vision is blurred from sleep, exhaustion and the medication he's on, so all he sees are lighter and darker blobs and shapes. However, he's too out of it still to really react to anything, so he just blinks, trying to clear his vision.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene sits and waits, both longing for and dreading Sam waking up, for different reasons. He needs Sam to wake up and annoy him. Piss him off until this feeling goes away. He needs Sam to be okay - to smile at him and say 'alright Guv?'. But he knows that won't happen. Sam's been through so much, it's not going to be that easy.

And as Gene notices Sam start to wake up, he realises he has no idea what to expect.

Swallowing his slight nervousness, Gene speaks quietly as Sam's eyes finally open.*

Took your time! Gave Cartwright a good old fright, you did!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Hearing that voice... Sam's brain doesn't catch up at first. Is this a dream? But no, he... He is where he woke up earlier as well... Earlier... When Annie was here. Annie.

Sam blinks. This isn't Annie. That voice is...

It's....

He wasn't going to come... He wasn't there... Sam called, SCREAMED for him, and he never came...

Sam blinks again.

Then one little word escapes him, in this completely unguarded and vulnerable state, comes out in a hoarse whisper.*

.... Gene.

*It's both a question and a statement, Sam not quite knowing whether to really accept this as reality, or whether to be glad he's dreaming of Gene at all.*
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Gene Hunt
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*That one word uttered in Sam's raspy voice sends a bolt of relief and joy through Gene. He's alive, he's awake and he recognises him. Thank god.*

Yeah, Gladys - it's me. Actually managed to be 'ere this time! You went and woke up without me earlier. Rude.

*hoping his familiar jibes should help Sam feel more at ease, Gene leans over his deputy so he can see him better.*

You've been in the wars. I'd say at least three!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam's sleepy eyes follow Gene's movement, search his face as it comes further into view. This... This is real... Gene is talking to him, the way he always does...

But is this... Really real? Sam can hardly believe it. He remembers his encounter with Annie earlier, but only dimly... And he still can't decide whether this is reality, or just his tortured brain playing tricks on him.

So, not quite reacting to Gene's words, Sam continues to gaze at him - and then, without thinking of the consequences, of what Gene might think, he raises his good hand. It's difficult, it feels heavy and restricted, but Sam still manages to lift it with only a slight tremor to it, and he reaches out for what he can see - Gene's face. He needs to be sure that this isn't a dream... That he won't wake up and.... *
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene watches Sam's hand rise shakily, and for that moment he doesn't quite know if he's touched or scared. Sam's reaching for his face, and he wants it but it'll look like...

Years and years of his own absorbed fears defeat him, and before Sam's fingers can touch him, Gene takes Sam's hand in a friendly grip instead. At least this way he can help Sam save energy... *

Yeah, I'm real. No need to get all touchy-feely about it!

*he allows himself a slight smile, still elated at Sam's regaining consciousness.*

How're you feeling, sleepy head?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*When Gene's hand closes around his, Sam inhales audibly, his eyes widening for a moment, as though he's expecting that any moment, Gene will disappear, or that someone else will be gripping his hand, or--

But no. The moment passes, and Gene is still there. Holding his hand. Talking to him.

Smiling.

Slowly, Sam's fingers curl around Gene's hand. He's real. Which means that... It's over. Annie was real as well. He survived.

Sam swallows, his gaze never leaving Gene's. If he stops concentrating in him, his mind will start to wander again, he knows it. So he needs to keep it on Gene, on... on the question he asked.

Sam tries to think about it, but thinking leaves him with a headache. So Sam tries to tell the truth (if he doesn't then the pain will return, Sam knows that, and he wishes he didn't).*

... Don't.... Don't know. *he licks his dry lips - his own voice sounds so alien, but he tries again* Bit shit.

*He can't smile, even though he would like to.*
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*Gene can't help his mouth twitching up into a genuine smile at Sam's reply. He hides it quickly, but it was definitely there.*

I'll bet. You look like an Egyptian mummy.

*Gene's fingers grip Sam's loosely, not wanting to add any more hurt to his already battered body. Holding on for this long - it feels scarily like holding hands. But Sam's so tired and weak, he can't bring himself to let go just yet.*

You've been fixed up, though. And look at the bright side. Birds love a good scar!
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam isn't quite sure whether or not he really saw a smile on Gene's face - he's still drowsy, not quite there yet - but it still helps him relax a little.

And... And Gene is still holding onto his hand. His brain doesn't quite know what to do with this. Under any other circumstances, Sam would be both delighted and terrified of the consequences, but right now, he tries to simply enjoy the sensation.

However, that brings other sensations with it, and his mind is still prone to wander... Especially helped along by Gene's words.

Scars.

Sam twitches slightly, grimacing. Unlike earlier, Sam is aware of the gist of what happened, images and sounds flashing through his mind, disconnected and frightening.

However, with the painkillers' and sedative's residues still in his system, it's not enough to pull him back down into that maddening swirl of memories yet.

Sam realises that he hasn't said anything in God knows how long, and he blinks tiredly, eyes still on Gene's face. It's still hard to believe it's really there, really real... He hadn't thought he'd ever see that face again. Or any other face. But mostly this one.*

... S-so you... You found me... *Sam's voice still isn't much more than a whisper, and he can feel it grating in his throat, scratching and making him want to cough*
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*Sam's face changes, his expression shifting slightly when Gene mentions scars. Shit, maybe that was the wrong thing to say...

But then Sam blinks and seems to come back to him, his eyes sharpening just that tiny amount despite the yawn he emits. Better stay away from subjects like that for now.*

Yeah, we did. Can't get away from me that easy, eh! M'not ready to give you the boot just yet!
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*The corners of Sam's mouth twitch at that, ever so slightly. Gene's attitude really is refreshing... Makes him feel a little more at ease. And there's the fact that their hands are still joined...

However, Sam's mind won't just settle down, can't stay away from the memories... And he realises something. Gene says they found him... But when? Where? And what about... What about Leonard?

The mental energy it takes for Sam to force himself to ask is palpable as he opens his mouth after a few more seconds of silence.*

.... Leonard... I-is he...

*Sam tenses in anticipation, his grip on Gene's hand tightening minutely despite the general weakness in his limbs.*
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*Gene notices the tightening of Sam's grip - he really is worried about this... *

Leonard's fine, save for a dressing down from me.

*Gene grimaces a little. He's not proud of his little outburst earlier.*

You did it. You kept 'im alive. And I can tell you now he's bloody grateful. He'll probably be bringing you a bouquet of roses and a wedding ring each morning for the next three months!
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*It takes Sam a few moments to really process Gene's words, but when he does, he relaxes visibly, his eyes closing for a second.

Leonard is alive. He did it.

There's a flash of memories - cruel laughter, angry shouting, blood. Sam opens his eyes again.

... Was it really worth it?

Suddenly, Sam feels horribly tired. The hold he has on Gene's hand slackens until it's Gene who's holding up Sam's hand. He feels numb now; the painkillers haven't worn off yet, but the longer he stays awake, the harder it becomes to keep his mind away from... From there. Not even seeking out Gene's face is enough now to stop the thinking.*
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*It's not hard to see what's happening as Sam's hand begins to go slack in his. The poor man's eyes are unfocused and trying to close, and God knows how many drugs they've pumped into him. And though Gene knows that it's just tiredness, his heart still sinks a little - What if it's something else?*

Look, uhh... You're probably wanting to sleep, eh Don't want me yammering on at you, do you.

*Gene lowers Sam's hand to the mattress but doesn't let go yet - something seems to be stopping him.*

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*With some difficulty, Sam manages to focus on Gene one more time. Sleep... Yes, he needs that. If only to escape this spiral his thoughts seem to be going down when he's awake. However...

With Gene's hand still on his own, Sam finds the words slipping from his mouth, already slurring before he can even think about them properly*

Stay... Please?

*He's sounding like a sick child, and at any other time Sam would laugh at himself for seriously thinking his Guv would do anything of the like, but right now... Right now, it's a sincere request, and an even more sincere hope that the request will be granted.*
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*Sam's words seem to slip out totally unguarded, and for a moment Gene even wonders if he really heard that right. But no, that's definitely what Sam said...

Must be something he really needs, if it came out like that...

So Gene eases himself back into the chair, resting back fully as though to say 'I'm comfy, I'm not moving'.*

Was planning to. Haven't seen your nursey yet. Bet she's a looker.

*He may be staying, but if he is the hand holding needs to take a break. Gently he disengages from Sam' s hand and makes sure to lean a little against the mattress instead.*
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*Again Sam takes a moment to really process what he's hearing, but once he does, the corners of his mouth twitch - not quite into a smile, but it helps to relax his features.*

...thank you...

*If Sam were more lucid he wouldn't be able to believe his luck. But as it is, he's simply relieved, knowing that Gene will be there... Will stay... He said he would. Sam trusts Gene.

Sam's eyes fall shut again, and it only takes a minute for him to slip back into a drug-induced sleep. It won't be a completely calm rest; the dreams will start coming through, make him twitch, occasionally groan... But thanks to the continued supply of painkillers, Sam will stay under, will sleep well into the next day.*
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*Gene swallows uncomfortably at Sam's It feels like Sam shouldn't be thanking him at all... Of course he was going to stay, at least until he's asleep... And of course Gene does, watching over Sam as the minutes tick into hours.

Though if Gene's honest with himself he'd like to stay longer. He'd like to speak to the nurses, to Sam's doctors. Get every tiny piece of information that he can. Anything that'll help Sam get through this.

But that thought in itself scares him. The extent that he cares. When Ray was blown up he felt scared, sure. Worried for him, wanted to make sure he was okay, no lasting damage. But there wasn't this odd kind of fire in his gut. This need to watch over, to protect, to guard. With Sam, it feels as though Gene himself has been wounded right along with him, and that shouldn't happen!

Why does he feel this!?

And why does he want to hold Sam's hand again??

Why does he want to pull Sam into his arms and--??

No, no, this... This is all wrong. It's so wrong.

Shit.

Gene's mind stops him short, going into panic mode. He can't be this way, these feelings can't be real. All his life he's had it hammered into him - these feelings are something to be ridiculed. Something people should hide.

This can't be him.

Suddenly the room seems suffocating. He needs to get out for some air. Just some air. He'll come back... He will...

.........*
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*When Sam wakes up the next day, it's Annie who's sitting next to his bed, trying to smile at him in a comforting way. Gene is nowhere to be seen.

And he doesn't return.

The days pass. Sam grows more lucid every time he wakes, and every time, he grows more quiet as well. There is nothing to say; the doctors and nurses know what happened, Annie knows what happened. Sam doesn't remember everything, at least not at once, and he's glad for that. They tell him how the healing is progressing, that there have been some complications with his left hand - remnants of the wound fever, the infection -, that he'll find it hard to use that hand for quite some time.

Sam listens, impassively. He wouldn't know what other sort of reaction to show. There is no anger inside him, no sorrow. Sam doesn't dare to go beyond that, not yet.

He isn't even sure whether Gene really was there, that one time he saw him. It could just as well have been a dream - Sam thinks he remembers that Gene was holding his hand, and certainly that has to be nothing more than wishful thinking.

But the fact that Gene doesn't show up again, that gets to him. If his Guv doesn't want to see him, doesn't seem to care for his recovery, then what does that mean? It can only mean that Gene thinks of him as weak, a weakling who broke too quickly, didn't endure enough. There is no other logical explanation. It's that thought that stirs something more violent inside Sam, makes his eyes burn in the middle of the night, when he wakes up and can't get back to sleep.

However, he does try to keep that thought, along with the memories, at bay. The success is differing, moderate at best.

Sam does, however, take comfort in the fact that Annie is there as often as she can. Even Leonard comes by several times, and he's so grateful that often Sam doesn't quite know what to say. However, seeing him, alive, trying so hard to make things easy for Sam, to help him where he can, it does bring a tiny smile to Sam's face. It's in these moments that he thinks that, yes, it was worth it, to some extent.

There's precious few of those moments.

It's almost a week later that Sam is declared fit enough to be discharged. He lies when the doctor asks him whether or not he's got someone to help him, says he does, knows he doesn't. He doesn't want to burden Annie with this responsibility, and apart from her, who would be there? No one. He can't prevent her knowing that he'll be released that day, but he does leave at a time he knows she'll be tied up at work. Part of him feels bad about this, but mostly he's relieved he won't have to talk to anyone for a while.

He's given a whole stack of prescriptions, and enough medication to last him several weeks. He knows he'll need it. His back especially is a source of constant discomfort. He's been warned to be careful with how he moves, lest the lacerations open up again. 15 of them, several having needed stitches. As Sam walks out of the hospital and hails a cab with his useless hand, he walks stiffly, having to use a cane during those first few days because of his bad knee, avoiding to jostle his torso too much. Seeing the state of his hand, the fading bruises in his face, and Sam's general posture, the cabbie takes pity on him and doesn't only throw his bag into the car, he also carries it up all the way to Sam's flat.

Finally, Sam is alone. He's switched on the light and is looking around his flat - it seems somewhat alien, and Sam takes a few seconds to realise that this is because it looks more tidy than he'd expected it to. There is no dust, no dishes in the sink. It's an odd sort of tidiness, he can't quite place it, but he reckons that it was Annie who looked after the little bedsit. Only she would think to do something like that, and for a brief moment, Sam feels grateful.

The rest of the day passes eventlessly. Annie calls at some point, but Sam manages to convince her not to come over. He can't even explain to himself why he needs the solitude, but he's glad when she hangs up, after having forced him to promise that he'll let her come by for tea the next day.

Sam tries to relax. He tries to sit down in a way that won't cause him discomfort. He takes the painkillers when he's supposed to. He tries not to think much. It's easy enough during the day, when the sun is shining in through his windows, but towards the evening, clouds start covering the sky, and it's becoming gloomy outside. Night is falling.

Sam has just tried (and failed) to wash himself - he is to keep his left hand away from moisture at any cost, and with the injuries on his back and the fact that he's having trouble standing upright without holding onto something, it becomes an impossible task. So he sinks down into his chair, wincing as he feels the relentless pulling between his shoulder blades and on his lower back. He's broken, well and truly broken, and even though the doctors have assured him that there won't be lasting damage, it's hard for Sam to imagine at this moment in time.

He can't imagine walking normally.

He can't imagine not being either in pain or groggy from the painkillers his taking.

... he can't imagine going to work again. Facing Gene.

Sam's good hand curls around the armrest.

He's thinking too much again. He wants to close his eyes, but he knows that if he does that, the images will become even clearer and more plastic than they already are. They're not proper flashbacks, more like a film that is being played over and over again, relentlessly, running along what Sam sees. He can't shake himself out of it, it distracts him, makes him tense, sets his heart racing. Makes him jump at every little sound.

... He's a wreck. Gene won't want to have him back. Sam wouldn't want to have himself back.*
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*Gene feels terrible. He can't believe this is happening. He left Sam while he slept. And he didn't go back. God knows what Sam must be thinking. He must be feeling abandoned. And yet Gene can't make himself go back to the hospital. He just can't. Not until he's figured out what to do about this... 'problem'.

At work he avoids the issue, explaining his lack of visits to the amount of work he's got to do, plus Sam's already getting enough mothering from Annie - he won't want any more.

But that doesn't sit right with him either. Ignoring the fact that his feelings for Sam freak him out, they still mean he wants to see Sam. To help him. To do anything he can.

So, one day Gene ends up letting himself into Sam's flat. Finds himself doing something he thought he'd never do - cleaning. The least he can do is make sure that Sam has a clean and tidy flat to move back into after all of this. Though of course Sam won't be moving back straight away it'll still be nice for him to know that his bin bags have been taken out and the mouldy food removed from the fridge.

Gene repeats this a few times more, looking in and check g that everything's ok. It seems to ease the guilt and worry in his gut somewhat, though he knows it's only delaying the inevitable.

And that's why it's such a shock when he opens Sam's door once more and is met with the sight of Sam himself sat awkwardly in his chair.

For a second Gene thinks it's an intruder. The next second he thinks it's a ghost. Then when he takes in the pale skin and bandaged hand, he knows it's real.

Startled, Gene takes a breath and grips his chest as though to calm his heart down.*

JESUS--!!!

What the hell are YOU doing here!?
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*Sam hears the footsteps as they approach, and it makes his heart beat faster.

Calm down, just a neighbour, they'll walk past, calm down, it's nothing, for Christ's sake calm down....

But then, they stop at his door, and a moment later the lock turns...

Sam jumps out of his chair, stumbling - his right leg still won't take much of his weight - backwards, his back hitting the wall painfully, his good hand shooting out to steady himself, he needs a weapon, he needs to defend himself, oh god, oh god--

Sam stares, wide-eyed and breathing hard at... At Gene, who looks equally shocked.

It takes a good few seconds for Sam to find his voice again, his heart racing so hard that it feels like it's going to jump out of his mouth if he opens it.

What on earth is Gene doing here?!

Finally, Sam trusts himself to speak, but his voice is quiet, still recovering from the abuse his throat suffered.*

I-I live 'ere.

*Shit, he sounds just as scared as he felt a moment ago. If Gene already thinks he's weak, then this won't exactly help his case.

Sam tries to draw himself up to his full height, to keep his head up and stand up straight, but the attempt fails miserably. His back is complaining about the rough treatment, and he still has to support himself against a shelf with his good hand.*

Wh-what are YOU.... I mean... Wh-why...

*Sam breaks off, swallows. Emotions are warring inside him, confusion and fear and a little bit of hope, but it's mostly the shock that is making it hard to compose himself. He'd been convinced that it would be someone different barging through the door... *
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*Gene can see clearly the way that Sam's holding himself, awkward and stiff. Trying to appear bigger than he actually is. Trying to hide the condition his body is in. Though Gene knows there's no point - he was there when they found Sam. He's seen what's under the bandages.

He can also see the wide eyes, sharply focused pupils. Sam's scared. Scared of.... What? That it was Trent at the door? Must be.

His own heart pounding, Gene raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, taking a cautious step forward.*

Been keeping an eye on your gaff, haven't I! What, you thought I'd let you come home to a fridge full of mould and a flat full of flies?

*Gene frowns, lowering his hands. There's something else... *

And you don't live 'ere. Now right now. You're supposed to be in hospital surrounded by busty nurses!
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...

*Sam blinks, momentarily speechless.

Gene... Gene has been looking after his flat?

Slowly, Sam's shoulders drop as some of the tension leaves him. It doesn't make sense - Gene has been avoiding him, hasn't he, and he thought.... but then....

Sam leans back against the wall, keenly aware of the fact that, despite his attempts, he can't hide how much of a wreck he is. His left hand is in a sling, to prevent him from jarring his fingers too much, and standing upright for too long leaves him trembling and exhausted... He'll have to sit down soon.

Not yet, though... He needs to understand this situation first, and to answer Gene.

His heart is still beating too hard and too fast, but Sam has managed to get his voice under control at least.*

... Got discharged today.

*It's been over a week, after all. Sam hesitates, before carefully asking*

.... did you really...?
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*Sam got discharged today? Then why isn't he staying with Annie!? Does she even know Sam's out of the hospital? Sam's confusion over Gene taking care of his flat pales into significance in the face of this other question. He shakes his head, dismissing it.*

Who brought you back here? Did you even tell anyone you were leaving!?
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*Taken aback by the force of Gene's questions, Sam flinches slightly, going tense again. He'd wanted to sit down, but now he feels.... Cornered. Threatened.*

Wh-what's it to you? *he'd meant for his voice to sound strong and aggressive, but instead it comes out sounding shakey and pathetic. Great.*

Took a cab, that's all.
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What's it to me? You're my deputy! I'm not 'aving you wither away in this shithole your first night out of hospital. Not when you're still half held together with stitches!

*Gene gestures to the kitchen area*

What're you gonna eat, eh? There's nothing in the fridge, I made sure of that. Things were starting to come alive in there.
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*Once again, Sam is speechless. Of course he had noticed that there was no food in the fridge... But he hadn't been able to muster the strength to go down to the shops, and so he'd just resigned to going to bed without eating...

But now that Gene is bearing down on him with his... Care? He doesn't even know what to call it, but it's confusing. Overwhelming.

Sam lowers his gaze for a moment, still lost for words. Normally he'd be talking Gene down, wouldn't just take it, but he's tired, pain is starting to invade his senses, and Gene's presence has thrown him off entirely.*
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*Watching Sam deflate slightly, watching him look down at the floor - it makes Gene stop. The poor bloke's exhausted, it's obvious. He knew he would be. And it's also obvious that he isn't up for their usual back-and-forth banter right now. What he needs is a comfy bed and a hot meal.

It goes against everything Gene's been dealing with internally, but his heart forces the words out of his mouth before he can prevent it.*

Well yer not staying here, that's for bloody sure. And it'd be rude to dump you on Cartwright's door at this time of the night.

*Gene looks across to Sam's bedside, catching sight of Sam's still-mostly packed bag. Wordlessly he moves over to it and begins shoving things back inside roughly.*

What else d'you need? Spare knickers? Nightdress?
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*Sam looks up again abruptly as Gene speaks, following his motions... And... Wait, what...?*

What are you doing?

*He can't read Gene. His posture and earlier behaviour say one thing, his words quite another. Sam's dizzy and tired, on edge and weak, and Gene is confusing what little of his mind was left clear and focused.*
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What does it look like? Packing your bags.

*Sam may be confused, but Gene can't bring himself to spell out what he's intending. Sam'll get it in a minute. Once his brain catches up. And the longer it takes Sam to guess, the more Gene can get packed without Sam trying to change his mind.*

Did the hospital give you any happy pills to take away with you?
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*Sam blinks several times, his brain indeed taking some time to catch up.

When it does, the realisation sets off an odd mix of emotions.

It doesn't make any sense. First Gene didn't show up at all during the last week, the excuses Annie listed sounding flimsy, and now... now this.

Sam opens his mouth and then closes it again, shaking his head slightly before he's able to find his voice.*

I, er... in the kitchen.

*Sam nods over to the countertop, but his gaze doesn't leave Gene. How is this suddenly happening...?*

You... are you serious? You're takin' me to... yours?
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*Gene marches over to the kitchen, locating the pills and shoving them into the bag he's holding.*

Well where else are you gonna go? At least this way I can keep an eye on you.

*deciding that he's probably repacked enough of Sam's stuff, Gene hefts the bag onto his shoulder and stands in front of Sam with an arm extended.*

You coming then, or do I have to carry you?
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*Sam remains silent for a while, watching Gene move about and then returning his gaze as he stands before him, caution and insecurity standing in his tired eyes.

He doesn't know how to feel about this. Gene genuinely seems serious - he's packed the bag and doesn't look like he'll put it down again either, so it doesn't look like this is some elaborate joke. And Gene isn't someone who would do something out of a feeling of duty, not something like this.

... right?

And Sam has to admit that the thought of being alone in his flat... well, it's not an appealing thought at the moment. Not with his mind keeping him occupied, making it hard for him to concentrate on the here and now...

Sam exhales suddenly, averting his gaze. His good hand leaves the shelf he'd been holding onto and reaches for his cane that's leaning by the chair, picking it up before he topples over.*

I can walk.

*He throws a glance at Gene, still somewhat insecure, but ultimately resigned and... hopeful.*

.... thanks.
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*Gene retracts his arm quickly as he sees Sam refuse to take it. Damn, he shouldn't have been so quick to take that step. What if Sam thought it was a bit much? A bit overly familiar? A gesture of kindness is different from their usual methods of physicality, after all...

Quickly hiding his embarrassment, Gene makes sure the doors open wide before making room for Sam to walk through. At least he's agreed to come - that's a good sign. And he does seem genuinely grateful.

He grunts in response.*

Don't mention it. Now chop chop, if I'm gonna have to fry you some eggs or something is rather do it before midnight.
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*Sam rolls his eyes at Gene's words, his mouth pulling into a wry grimace.*

Doin' my best, Guv...

*However, he moves slowly, cautiously. When he isn't lying down or holding still, the painkillers aren't enough to completely coat the agony his back is putting him through; every little muscle that moves, contracts and relaxes pulls at the cuts, reminds Sam of what happened, and how much pain that was.

Once he's out of the door, Sam half turns to Gene - for one because he has an urge to know where Gene is, and for another because there's too many questions tumbling through his mind.*

Where'd you get the keys...?

*Because the door wasn't broken open when Sam returned earlier... So Gene must have used keys to let himself into the flat.*
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*Gene keeps a wary eye on Sam as they start making their way outside - he can't have anything happen to Sam, not again. Not on his watch.

In answer to the question, Gene shrugs.*

Had a sneaky spare made just in case you ever decided to armour-plate your door.

*and of course Gene didn't want Sam's first sight of home to be another broken door. This time, he wanted things to be welcoming. Perfect. Safe.*
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*Sam throws Gene a look, not sure whether his Guv is telling the truth or not - but then, he gives a weak little snort, shaking his head.*

Right.

*Of course, this answer has just opened up a whole slew of new questions - when did Gene have that key made? Why would he care? Why does he care? But Sam is growing too tired to get behind the truth, at least for now.
They make it outside slowly, Sam doing his best to move steadily, but by the time they reach the Cortina he's breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead. For a moment, he wonders whether he should have just stayed at the hospital for a few more days. Maybe he should've let Annie take care of him after all. This is madness, maybe Sam is just imagining that Gene is there, and even if it's real, there's no way Gene will let him stay longer than a night, surely... He'll grow tired of him soon, annoyed, and then...

Sam is staring off into space, his good hand gripping the cane tighter and tighter.*
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*Gene isn't exactly sure whether Sam buys his excuse - but by the time they're at the car it's clear that Sam has other things to be thinking about. Mainly, staying upright.

Wary of the way Sam seems to be tiring so fast, Gene drops Sam's bag by the boot and heads straight for the passenger door, opening it wide.*

M'lady!

*hovers, holding out a hand to Sam, ready to help him get into the car if he needs it. The boundaries of what Sam'll accept are still a bit of a mystery to him, so Gene knows he has to test the water a little.*
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*Sam is too tired to react to Gene's little jibe. He's equally too tired to think twice about accepting Gene's help. It is a conflict, to be sure - Sam doesn't want to appear weak in front of Gene, fearing that he might turn away and just leave him completely... And there's that underlying fear now, deep down, almost too well hidden to really notice; that fear of contact, of putting himself at anyone's mercy.

But right now, Sam knows that it's either he accept the help, or he collapses. So, without hesitation, Sam first stows away the cane, and then takes Gene's hand, holding on as well as he can as he starts to carefully and awkwardly sit down, trying to slide into his seat in a way that'll strain his back the least.*
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*The fact that Sam accepts his help where he didn't before is both a worrying and comforting thing. It means that Sam's willing to touch him and to take his help seriously... But it also shows how tired he is. How vulnerable.

Sam should never be this vulnerable.

Gene stays quiet as he helps Sam into the car, gently shutting the door and moving around to the boot to pack his bag away. A moment later and he's slipping into the driver's seat.

Rather than starting the engine right away, Gene sits for a moment and looks Sam up and down.*

...... You look like you're about to drop dead. You okay?
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*Sam closes his eyes as he finally settles down into the passenger seat - it's somewhat comforting to be there, in /his/ place again - though he flinches even at the soft sound of the door closing.

He's tired. So tired. He can feel a slight tremor running through his body, and when he hears the other door open and close, it takes Sam a while to will his eyes to flutter open again.

At Gene's question, Sam turns his head slightly to look back at him, the exhaustion standing in his face clear as day - but there's surprise there as well.

Gene is being uncharacteristically nice. Not that Sam minds, but even to his exhausted and drug-addled mind, Gene's behaviour stands out. The question sounded honest, and so is the look on his face, from what Sam can tell...

And Sam himself is too tired to try and hide something he has no chance of hiding anyway. So he turns his head back to look straight ahead and shakes his head, his eyes closing.*

No... No, I'm not. *he exhales, his good hand coming up to lightly pinch the bridge of his nose for a second.*

I...

*I'm hurt. I'm scared. I don't understand you. I... *

...

*lowering his hand again, Sam forces his eyes to open again, though he doesn't look at Gene this time.*

*very quietly, almost in a whisper*

I appreciate your concern, though. Really.
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*Sam looks as though he wants to say so much more than what actually makes it out of his mouth, but Gene doesn't press the matter. He just needed to know. And now he does. Sam's not okay.

He looks down at the steering wheel grimly. If Sam's not even bothering to pretend, it's pretty clear that he's done the right thing in picking Sam up. Any thoughts of embarrassment or protocol leave Gene's head immediately, his only concern now being to get Sam home safe and protected.

Trying not to overdo the concern for both their sakes, Gene switches the engine on and pulls the car into gear, murmuring as he does.*

S'no trouble.

*And there it is, Gene's sincere honesty. It was there for a moment and now it's hidden again as he gently lurches the car off and away towards his own house.*
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*Sam almost misses that murmur, but it does make him glance over at Gene again.

That was... that as well sounded so honest. No sarcasm. Just genuine... concern. It's so open, that Sam can't help but respond, equally quietly.*

...Thank you.

*As they pull away, Sam fumbles for the seat belt, and luckily he manages to secure himself even with just one hand in working order. The fact that Gene is driving so gently isn't lost on Sam either, and it's one more thing that's making this entire situation all the more surreal.

This is Gene, having checked up on him, driving him to his own home. To stay for... for how long, even?

Had this happened a week prior, Sam would have been over the moon.

But now he's a broken mess, desperately trying to hold together what is left to hold together (not much), tired and hurting, and Gene's sudden change of attitude is nothing short of confusing. Sam doesn't know what to do with it.

As they drive, Sam's eyelids grow increasingly heavy - he'd been tired already, but now that it's the familiar roar of the Cortina's engine supplying a steady soundtrack along with Gene's considerate driving, it's enough to lull Sam into sleep; and indeed, after just a minute or two he's dosing off, his head coming to rest against the window.*
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*Sam's sincere thank you warms something inside Gene's chest. The comfortable and meaningful words passing between them, it's like nothing ever happened. Like Gene never effectively abandoned Sam at the hospital after his little freak out. But in reality, he did. And he's going to have to deal with that in some way. Either speak to Sam about it or lock it away at the back of his mind until Sam brings it up at some point.

Probably the latter.

He basks in that warm glow silently for a few minutes, aware that Sam is drifting off against the window, until that little creeping fear begins to surface again.

He shouldn't be enjoying this. The easy silence between them, the way that Sam's face grows slack as he sleeps, the way he suddenly looks like a tired little boy... Gene shouldn't be noticing these things. Why is he noticing these things!?

Poofer...

Shaking his head and jerking out of his memories, Gene decides to concentrate on the road. He just has to get back to his house. Get Sam inside, before anyone can see.

Before long, he's pulling up outside the door and shutting the engine off.

Quietly, he hisses at Sam.*

Psst! Oi, Sleeping Beauty. Your carriage's arrived.
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*Completely oblivious to Gene's internal conflict, Sam doesn't rouse until they stop and Gene whispers to him.

It must be the combination - the engine dying and then someone talking to him - that startles him. Sam flinches and his eyes fly open as he jerks upright, staring straight ahead for a second, completely disoriented. Where... What....?!

But then, his mind catches up; he's in Gene's car. Gene was talking to him. He's in pain because the painkillers of this day and age just won't work properly.

Only once Sam can be sure of those things does he relax slightly, and he turns his head to tiredly blink over at Gene.*

... Ah.

*He looks out of the windscreen again, at the house - and yes, that really is Gene's house.*

Right.

*Sam reaches down to undo the seat belt, but at this very moment, he can feel his good hand go numb.

Sam freezes. This has happened a few times already, and the doctors have assured him that it's too be expected, with the trauma both his wrists have been put through - and hell, Sam remembers that night most clearly of all the things. How he pulled on the ropes for hours on end, desperate to free himself.

Sometimes - right now - he can still feel the ropes biting into his skin.

Sam is still sitting there, staring down at his lap, his good hand limply covering the click-mechanism. He can't get the muscles to tense, to provide the pressure needed to uni do the belt.*
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*Ahh. Damn. Gene can see what's happening, and he feels a pang of sympathy for Sam along with a sting of embarrassment for himself. With his earlier feelings still swimming around inside him, reaching across Sam's lap isn't exactly the first thing he wants to do...

But he does. With gentler hands than usual, Gene moves Sam's fingers out of the way and presses the button for him, pulling on the belt to free his partner from it. It's a no-fuss movement, Gene feeling eager not to make a show of the tenderness.*

You're probably gonna be a bit of a spaghetti-fingers for a while. Don't worry about it - s'normal.
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*Sam's fingers twitch slightly as Gene's hand comes in contact with them, nothing more. There's no resistance when Gene moves Sam's hand out of the way, in such an unexpectedly gentle way, and Sam even shifts slightly to help along with getting the belt off him.

However, before he can stop himself, Sam mutters bitterly*

Is it?

*He pulls his right hand up into his lap, determinedly staring straight ahead. He can't get out of the car with both his hands like this... Shit. Shit shit shit. Despite being so tired, Sam can feel something welling up inside him - embarrassment, frustration, helplessness... and once again, confusion. He's not used to this, to Gene being so considerate and... and...

Sam's jaw sets in an attempt to regain control over himself. He can't break down now, not over something so ridiculous in comparison to everything else.*
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*the bitter tone to Sam's voice along with the very plain displeasure on Sam's face make it rather easy to read his mood. Pissed off and embarrassed.

Sam shouldn't feel like this.

Moving to help as he talks, Gene tries to get the awkwardness out of the way quickly, for both their sakes.*

Yes. Trust me, your hands'll feel less like depressed jellyfish in a few more days. Just gotta let the bruising go down and the nerves recover, that's all.

*He reaches across Sam to open the door from the inside just in case Sam can get out by himself now - but if not, Gene's already up and out of the car walking round to meet him. Better to give him some semblance of independence... *
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*Something about the fact that Gene is talking so matter-of-factly, basically shrugging it off and taking it for what it is, directly talking about it instead of tip-toeing around Sam - something about that attitude throws Sam off enough to momentarily pull him out of this spiral of frustration. He's still sat in the car when Gene comes round to his side, too stunned to attempt getting out on his own.

He's entirely unprepared for this - all of it.

Maybe that is why, when Gene comes to a halt next to him, Sam moves almost automatically, twisting carefully and trying to pull himself up and out of his seat.

In this moment, however, the despair catches up with him. Sam puts too much weight on his right leg, and his knee gives out, making him topple forward with a sound of surprise.*
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*Gene too is taken by surprise as Sam pitches forward. His first instinct is to grab with both hands, steady Sam that way. But in the back of his mind Gene sees a flash - picture of just what kinds of injuries lie under Sam's clothes. There's a moment of panic as Gene can't work out how to grab Sam in a way to stop him falling.

But his arm whips out, wrapping around the front of Sam's chest, pushing back to try and tip Sam back onto his feet.

God, Gene hopes he hasn't hurt him.*

Whoa, whoa! You alright??
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*Sam can feel himself falling, he's going to hit the ground, he--

-- is held up by a strong arm wrapping itself 'round his chest. Sam's right hand shoots up, still numb but scrabbling for purchase nonetheless, his fingers reluctantly curling into the fabric of Gene's shirt. He chokes out a groan - his back is throbbing from the sudden movements, his knee is protesting...

And then, there's a flash of memories.

This... this has happened before.

Sam remembers being in horrible, crippling pain, stretched to the limit, waiting for it all to be over, only then... only then, he'd been moved, and there had been the same sensation, the same strong arm across his chest, holding him...

Sam heaves a shuddering breath, and he can't tell where he is for that one moment, doesn't realise that now his forehead is pressed against Gene's chest. Gene's words fly by without Sam understanding their meaning, it's just static to his ears. Memories and present merge, make the world pitch, and Sam chokes again, frightened, anguished.*
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*Oh god, what's happening?? Sam's frozen, forehead against Gene's chest, fingers gripping his shirt...!

Gene tenses, his hands coming to rest on Sam's upper arms in an attempt to steady him. Sam isn't alright. He really isn't.

Gene swallows, completely lost as to what to do.*

You uh.... You should... Sit down or summat...
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*It's Gene's touch to his upper arms that pulls Sam out of the flashback - because this touch, steadying without bruising, warm and gentle, is different. Doesn't fit with the memories. And Sam is aware enough to realise that.

He blinks, shudders as things click back into place, as he comes back to himself suddenly. Sam's grip on Gene's shirt tightens for a moment, and then, finally, he raises his head to look at Gene. His vision is slightly blurred, but he can make out Gene's expression - worried, and out of his depth.

Still shivering, Sam finally nods. Sitting down... Sitting down sounds marvellous. But he's disoriented, the surroundings too unfamiliar for him to take the initiative.*

... H-help me.

*It slips out of his mouth without Sam even intending it to, breathless and anguished. He doesn't even know what exactly he means - help me sit down? Get me out of here? Just... Help? He doesn't know.*
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*the plea pulls at something in Gene's heart. It sounds so wrong, hearing this amount of anguish from Sam. Of course, Gene's no stranger to his DI's angst - he's never met anyone with quite as much capacity for unhinged misery as Sam. But this is different. He sounds... Different....

Kicking himself into gear, Gene does what he can. He doesn't even really know what Sam wants, just that he wants action.*

Okay, Gladys. Just hang on a sec...

*trying to support Sam as much as he can without hurting him, Gene leaves the car and the bag, heading straight for his front door instead. A twist of the key and they're stepping over the threshold and headed towards the sofa.*

Let's plonk you down here then... Catch yer breath a bit.
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*Sam stumbles along, his mind still reeling from the exhaustion and residue terror and helplessness. Feeling Gene's arms around him, his hands supporting him, is both reassuring and disconcerting, makes Sam want to shy away and lean into it at the same time - but right now, he isn't given a choice, can't help but rely on Gene heavily as they make it through the door and into the living room.

Sam's back is burning by the time he sinks down onto the sofa with a groan, and he's jarred his left arm several times, which was enough to set his hand throbbing, making nausea roll through his stomach. Sam has to lean back even though that means putting pressure on the cuts, but once again, there is no choice. He doesn't have the strength to keep himself upright.

Trembling, Sam presses his head against the backrest, his eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with every gasping breath he takes.
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*Gene takes in the sight of Sam, panting and pale on the sofa, his eyes closed and chest heaving. Just this short walk has completely tired him out. Jesus, he's got so much healing to do.

Worried, Gene frowns down at his DI, feeling as though he should be doing something to help but completely at a loss as to what Sam needs.

So with nothing else to offer, Gene offers the only thing he knows Sam might need - reassurance.

Quietly, Gene speaks.*

... Just take your time. You stay there 'til you've caught your breath. I'll go get your bag and then stick the kettle on. Good brew'll sort you out, yeah?
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*Sam flinches slightly at the sound of Gene's voice, but then he opens his eyes and glances over at him, needing a moment to really understand what's being said before he gives a small nod.

Gene is doing the right thing. Sam may not be consciously aware of it, but what he needs right now are things that are different, things that don't trigger memories. It was easy enough at the hospital to forget about these things, but out in the open it's a constant struggle.

Gene's voice, however, calm and collected, is doing a good job at keeping Sam rooted, for the moment at least. Sam can't help but keep looking at him, taking in the stance that is so unlike the Guv he thought he knew - it isn't aggressive, and his voice sounds... Gentle, almost.

It's still confusing, but with how weak and exhausted Sam is, he finds himself increasingly grateful for it. It isn't what he expected from Gene at all, but he finally lacks the energy to really question it, opting for acceptance and making the most if it instead.*
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*a nod and that's it. The silence creates an unsettling feeling in Gene's stomach. It's all so wrong. Even when he's seen Sam miserable before, he's still had plenty to say when pushed. Plenty of retorts, wordy comebacks, all dry humour and wry wit. But there isn't even a grunt from Sam this time, and it makes Gene ache.

Unsure of what to say, Gene nods back and moves off to retrieve Sam's bag and give the man some space.

A few moments later and Gene's hefting the bag onto the hallway table and moving through to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil. With enough water for two it doesn't take long - he's soon returning, carrying two mugs with him.

But before he holds the mug out, he stops. What if Sam can't hold it safely?

Changing his mind, Gene instead places Sam's tea down onto the table beside him.*

Give that a couple of minutes. With your fingers actin' like limp sausages I don't wanna be driving you back to hospital with a scorched crotch.
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*During the time Gene isn't in the living room, Sam manages to catch his breath and slowly sits up again, finally starting to take in his surroundings. He's not really been inside Gene's home; for all their friendship had deepened during the last few months, it had happened in the pub, or in Sam's flat, but never here.

It's unfamiliar territory, all of it, and Sam listens hard, twitching with every unexpected sound. His eyes always and inevitably return to the open doorway, needing to know that no one is coming in, that it's just Gene walking about, setting up the water to boil...

For one moment, Sam allows himself to close his eyes - to feel the throb of his back, the steely pain emanating from his left hand, and all the other injuries that are making themselves known in various ways. Sitting down his helping him recover, to clear his mind a little and process what has happened.

And realise just how awkward things are now.

Sam opens his eyes again, just in time to see Gene walk into the room, stop in front of him - hesitate - and finally set the mug down... on the table next to Sam.

Of course - he thinks Sam can't hold the mug on his own. That sends a hot wave of embarrassment through Sam.

However... at Gene's little quip, Sam feels the corners of his mouth twitch slightly, a tiny huff escaping him. Not quite a chuckle. But it's enough to lessen the pressure on his chest, to swallow down some of his embarrassment.*

... fair enough.

*Sam keeps his hands to himself for now - his right one still feels somewhat numb - but he does watch Gene as he moves.

And he can't help it, once again he's struck by the strangeness of the situation. If he didn't know any better he'd say he was dreaming it all up.*
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*With the agreement from Sam, Gene moves back to the armchair and sits, watching Sam with careful eyes. He isn't sure what to say - like Sam, this feels odd to him. Comforting and normal and right.... but odd all the same.

Leaning back against the cushions, Gene asks gruffly,*

When you say you were 'discharged', you mean the doctors discharged you, yeah? As in they told you to leave?
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*Sam looks up and returns Gene's gaze, but drops his eyes a moment later, staring at his lap.*

Said I was fit to leave, yeah.

*On one condition - that there would be someone to look after him... And he'd assured them that there would be.

Who knew that he'd turn out to be right about that? That is, Sam knew he wouldn't be able to keep Annie from checking up on him, like she'd done during all those days at the hospital. He isn't even sure why he told the doctors he was going to be alright, when he didn't even tell Annie about his being discharged.

But he isn't about to tell Gene that, not when he can imagine his reaction to that all too vividly.*
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*Sensing something's off about Sam's answer, Gene raises an eyebrow.*

Oh really?

Did they mean you were free to skip off to an empty house? Or did they actually mean you're free to be wheeled back to someone who'll make sure you take your medications?

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*There's a little twitch, and Sam can feel himself growing tense. He told a lie, and now Gene is trying to get the truth out of him...

His back gives a particularly vicious, burning throb, and Sam squeezes his eyes shut, stops himself from groaning. He should've told the truth from the start, he should've... He could've prevented all this pain...

Sam's voice is small, almost distant when he speaks next. *

... I-I told them Annie was gonna... Was gonna look a-after me.
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*Aha. There it is. Gene raises a knowing eyebrow and leans back fully in his seat.*

I had a feeling.

What d'you do that for then?? Y'should've called me. What were you thinking!?
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*At this, Sam actually shrinks back visibly, his eyes opening and staring down at his knees. He wants to stand up to Gene, like he normally would, snap back at him... But he can't. He just can't.

It's costing him a lot of willpower to reply, and even when he does, it's still quieter than before.*

... that you... that you wouldn't come.

*That you wouldn't care.*
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*Sam's real meaning is obvious through the way he looks, the way he sounds... And it cuts through Gene like a knife.

Sam thinks he wouldn't have cared enough to come and pick him up. Jesus... This is what he's done. This is what he's done by staying away...

The flash of hurt in Gene's eyes is momentary, concealed again expertly.

He wants to tell Sam of course he would have come. Of course he does care. That the reason he's stayed away is the he cares too MUCH. But none of that can be said. How would Gene even begin to start explaining?

So he lets his face fall just that small bit as he replies with the most normal answer he can think of.*

What, and miss out on an opportunity to show off my driving to all them busty nurses? You're kidding.
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*Sam misses that flash of hurt on Gene's face, his eyes fixed on his knees as they are. And in that moment of silence, he doesn't know what's going to happen, but - irrationally - Sam hopes that Gene will say something that matters, that really matters... Tell him not to be stupid, of course he cares...

But then, Sam freezes, before looking up slowly.

If his mind were clearer, Sam would notice how Gene has been talking about 'busty nurses' unusually often during the last half hour. It latches onto something different instead, and where Sam was struggling earlier to answer Gene's question, the bitter words come tumbling out now before he can stop them.*

Where were you, then? This week, where--

*Sam's mouth snaps shut.

Where were you when I needed you?

He's said too much already.*
Edited by Sam Tyler, Aug 29 2015, 04:09 PM.
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*Ouch. Gene flinches, his gaze dropping to the floor. There's no way he can tell Sam the reality of it - that he was consumed with fear and guilt and confusion, locked away from everyone else in case they could tell what he was thinking.

And not seeing Sam just made things worse. But clearly not as bad as it was for Sam. The fact that he didn't come back to the hospital to see him? It eats Gene up inside.

Jaw tense, Gene eventually responds.*

Workin'. Had to, I... Couldn't get away.
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*Sam stares at Gene before his gaze drops suddenly and he withdraws, both inwardly and visibly.*

'course.

*And he means it - of course that was what it was. Stupid. Stupid. Even though it doesn't fit with with the current situation - if Gene was so busy, then how did he have the time to check on Sam's flat as often as he must have? Why did he take him away? The questions make Sam feels dizzy and nauseous, because he can't answer them, because it's too confusing. He's tired, he's out of his depth. He can't be asked to solve this mystery, to seriously consider the contradictions. Not now.

Not when his exhaustion is making it so easy for the memories to invade his mind and vision.

Sam flexes the fingers on his right hand slowly, first out of mindless need to do something and then to test whether feeling had finally returned to them. His hand seems fine now, and so Sam slowly reaches for his tea mug, watching how his fingers curl around the handle, feeling the strain as he lifts it to settle it in his lap, not quite ready to drink yet.

Watching his own motions is better than watching Gene, better than having to look at his expression, to possibly see something that Sam knows would destroy him.*
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*Gene's gut aches with regret as Sam's sad-sounding answer makes it out. Should he really have lied?

One moment of consideration and the answer is painfully clear to Gene. Yes, he should have. Sam may be an odd one, but even so - opening up about these humiliating and deviant thoughts he's been having? Especially when Sam is already in a low place? He can't do it. It'd be too much of a shock, and it seems Sam's opinion of him is already shaky. He needs to make up for that, not freak him out even more.

But still. It hurts to see what effect his words have had on his friend.

He also notices how Sam flexes his hand and then shakily picks up the mug. At least that's one good development. Doesn't help to shake this odd atmosphere in the room, though...

Feeling the need to clarify or at least explain further, Gene adds uncomfortably,*

Came to see you while you were still half out of it, though... Not that you probably remember me bein' there...

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*Sam glances up and at Gene then, sensing the discomfort in his voice. Strange, it's all so strange. This isn't like Gene - it's like he's ashamed of himself.

And that... That gives Sam some hope, unexpectedly.

Besides, what he said...

Sam looks off to the side, thinking about it. And... *

... I do. Remember.

*And the fact that now he knows it wasn't a dream... That does something to lift a small part of the weight on his chest, makes Sam's lips twitch into a little smile, gone again quickly, but replaced by a softer, less troubled expression.

And, if he thinks about it, it makes sense that Gene would have had time to check on his flat - after work, after pub even, possibly, when the visiting hours at the hospital were already over.

No reason to get upset.

Sam huff lightly. There's still a lot of questions he could ask, things to worry about - but knowing that he didn't just dream Gene being there? The fact that that means Gene was humouring him and holding his hand? That makes up for a lot, at least for now.*

You told me I was rude for waking up when you weren't there, before.
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*Sensing the mood beginning to lighten, Gene breathes an internal sigh of relief. He still feels guilty, of course he does. He abandoned Sam. But it seems as though Sam accepts his reason - for now.

Pleased with the change in topic, Gene offers an amused quirk if the lips.*

Yeah, that's right! Taking the bloody liberty! Couldn't even wait for your ol'Guv could you!
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*Sam looks down again, anguish flickering across his face for just one second - if only Gene knew... he'd been waiting so long. Screaming. He'd been hoping that Gene would come, desperately hoping, right up to the point when the pain simply overwhelmed him...

... but even being as tired as he is now, Sam manages to hide that quickly. Despite his doubts and questions, despite the loneliness he's felt during this week, he is grateful for Gene taking him in. The thought of being alone in his flat right now is terrifying. So Sam tries his best not to descend into his mental pit of misery again, concentrates on the hot mug in his lap instead, the fingers of his good hand sliding along the handle.*

M'sorry I couldn't match my recovery to your schedule, Guv.

*His voice is still quiet, and the attempt to regain some of his snark isn't his best, but it's all Sam can offer. To relieve the tension between them further, Sam finally raises his mug - and it works, his good hand is working again - and takes an experimental sip, closing his eyes for a moment as the hot tea goes down his throat. It's such a good feeling, knowing that the tea will calm him down and warm him from inside... It doesn't make up for the throbbing pain, but it's a start.*
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*Gene's jaw tenses as Sam replies, ignoring the humour in his statement. It'd seemed as though things were back to normal then, briefly... But clearly they aren't, are they. Sam's making attempts at banter, but Gene can still feel the edge in Sam's voice. The unspoken tension.

Stomach sinking a little, Gene decides to leave the subject of recovery for now and nods at the tea.*

Looks like y'got the feeling in your fingers back?

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*Sam just nods, taking another few gulps of tea. It really does calm him, and it gives him a small sense of... normality.

Then he lowers the mug again, resting it safely in his lap and opening his mouth, though he hesitates a moment, looking for the right words and... wondering whether he really can say what he means to say.*

It, uhm... it just 'appens.

*Again, he fiddles with the handle, visible evidence of how difficult it is for Sam to talk about his injuries.*

Out of the blue. I can't... predict it, or prevent it.

*The problem is, Sam doesn't want to make a big show out of his condition. He wants to act as normal as he can... but at the same time, he knows that isn't possible, and he knows he has to accept his condition for what it is.

If only that weren't so awkward around Gene... The man who's made it an art to never show how affected he really is. Sam has started to learn to spot when Gene really is affected by something, when he's sincerely worried... but it's still very hard to really tell, especially when Sam is already down to his last energy reserves for the day.

Suddenly feeling the exhaustion even more than before, Sam takes another breath, colour rising to his cheeks as he gathers up the nerve to say*

Listen, er, I'll 'ave to take my... painkillers, soon. I'll need to, to eat before I can do that, though.

*The last words come out in a bit of a rush, and Sam stares down at his mug resolutely, feeling the tips of his ears burn.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's explanation seems awkward - as though he's trying to find the words to talk about it without truly revealing how he feels about it. Gene can understand, what with him being in another's house and having the horrors of before threatening to leap back into Sam's memories. But still, it hurts to know that that's what Sam's having to do.

Grateful for the distracting mention of food, Gene throws a look back towards the kitchen. Sam feels bad enough as it is, he's not going to make a fuss over cooking some food.*

Yeah, could do with a nosh myself actually. Bacon and cheese butty sound good to you?

*something tasty and filling. Indulgent food. What could be better than that afyer a stay in the hospital?*
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