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What Goes Around...; And old enemy returns to haunt Sam...
Topic Started: Mar 10 2015, 01:35 PM (5,375 Views)
Sam Tyler
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Gladys
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*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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*Sam gives a nod, relief flitting across his face. Normally, he would try and convince Gene to go for a healthier option, but right now... he lacks the energy. And the fact that Gene isn't even trying to turn it into a joke, that he's simply and earnestly offering.... that means so much.*

Sounds... sounds lovely.
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Gene Hunt
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*overwhelmingly relieved that Sam's not demanding a salad instead of something proper, Gene nods and pushes himself up out of the chair.*

Good. Bet this'll cheer you up. Good bit of filling in yer stomach.

*calls back as he starts walking to the kitchen*

Hospital food's never something you'll miss.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Sam can't help the little smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth, seeing Gene's enthusiasm as he makes his way over to the kitchen. *

Yeah. It's worse than the canteen stuff. Bar Gwen's treacle tart.

As odd as it is, this genuine enthusiasm - Sam can't call it anything else - for taking care of Sam makes things a lot easier. Earlier, back at his flat, it had all seemed so awkward and... Forced, in a strange way... But now, it seems that they're both slowly starting to get used to this new situation.

And faintly, very faintly, Sam can feel something else stirring... Something he's been so careful with, something he's managed to hide away so completely even from Gene Hunt.

However, for now these feelings are still buried under a thick blanket of trauma and pain. Pain that makes it hard for Sam to move, even to relax his muscles a little. His back complains about every little twitch, and Sam winces as he slowly leans back, hoping that the soft cushions behind him won't bother the lacerations too badly.*
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Gene Hunt
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*sadly Gene misses that little smile of Sam's - he's too busy shoving a frying pan onto the hob. But he hears the jest in Sam's voice, and that's all he needed to hear.

Fishing around in the fridge, he calls back.*

Don't you let the other canteen staff hear that or they'll be putting you back in that damn hospital!

*pauses a moment in thought before flipping three pieces of bacon onto the pan.*

What is it with you and Gwen anyway! Anyone'd think she had the steamy hots for you, the way she keeps throwing sugar at you!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Sam turns his head to look over to the kitchen, but he can't see much - he sees Gene walking past, once, but that's it. However, he does soon hear the sizzling of bacon in the pan, and the sound heralds another little piece of normality.

Which is why he tries his best to keep up the light talk, to let himself follow the flow of the conversation. It's easier than it could have been, but still not to the extent that Sam doesn't have to consciously force himself...*

That's because... I treat her with respect. *adds after a pause* It pays not to antagonise the person who... cooks your food on a daily basis.
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Gene Hunt
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*flips the bacon onto a plate and starts hacking apart a bread roll, calling back through as he does,*

Oh, that mean you won't be antagonising me any more then? Seeing as I'm the one assembling your grub.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*huffs lightly*

Wouldn't dream of antagonising you.

*relaxes further into the cushions, finall starting to properly look around the living room through tired eyes. It's... more orderly than Sam had expected.

And at the same time, more empty.

Sam frowns, trying to kick his brain into gear.

There's no one here apart from him and Gene...

... so where is Gene's wife?

Sam raises his cup to drink more tea, eyes fixed on the window opposite to where he's sitting.

He'll ask about that... but not yet. Definitely not yet. Not when they've both finally started to settle into... whatever this is.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene snorts a laugh, finally beginning to pack the fillings into the butties. Good and greasy, nice and tasty. This should sort Sam out!

For good measure, Gene drops the buns into the frying pan and turns them, watching as the outside of the bread begins to brown and crisp. And then at last - Sam's dinner is ready!

He emerges from the kitchen carrying two plates, a large butty on each - and holds the slightly smaller one out to Sam.*

'Ere you go, your highness.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*While Gene finishes up their dinner (and blimey, the smell coming from the kitchen actually makes Sam's stomach rumble a little), Sam drinks the rest of his tea, his eyes being drawn to the window every so often. He can't help it, he keeps expecting to see something... Someone......

But then, Gene enters the room again, pulling Sam's attention to himself. Again, Sam's stomach gives a little rumble at the sight of the butties, and he puts down his mug carefully before reaching up to take his plate.*

Oh, ta...!

*balancing the plate in his lap is easy enough, and the fact that Gene gave him the smaller butty means that it's a lot easier for Sam to hold and eat it than he could've hoped. That detail isn't lost on him, and Sam can't help but gratefully smile at Gene before taking a first bite.*

Mmmh...!

*Greasy, yes. But oh, so good.*
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Gene Hunt
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*it gives Gene an odd sense of satisfaction to see Sam enjoying the food he's made. There's been many a time that Sam's nagged him about his health, eating so many fried sandwiches and the like - but when it comes down to it, seeing that Sam agrees they're damn tasty is a good feeling. *

I'll take that as a 'five out of five stars', shall I?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam just gives a mute nod - he's not eating quickly, far from it, but he's definitely eating steadily, eager to fill his stomach. And it really tastes great, nothing like the hospital mush they'd forced down his throat during the last week.

And Sam indeed manages to finish the entire butty, carefully licking his fingers afterwards, and in this moment, he does manage to forget about the pain. Just this one little moment.

Then it's back, and Sam winces, withdrawing his hand and letting it come to rest against the plate.

Aware of the fact that Gene can't have missed that, Sam looks up and at him, trying for a little smile.*

... that was delicious. Thank you.
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Gene Hunt
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*It's with a mix of great satisfaction and slight concern that Gene watches Sam finish the food he'd prepared. It's clear that Sam enjoyed it - even without the thanks and the appreciative finger-licking he can tell just from Sam's expression. Hospital food is nothing to rave about, and he was bound to be hungry. Looks like this did the trick!

But he did see the wince - even though the butty was a nice break, it's still clear that Sam's in pain.

And he hasn't even offered to do anything about it yet...

Gene finishes the last of his own dinner and burps loudly - just because he has a house guest doesn't mean he can't be himself at home! Then standing and taking Sam's plate from him.*

No trouble. Never one to turn down a good bit of bacon.

Now, shouldn't you be doping up by now? Looks like you're due it.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam grimaces slightly at Gene's choice of words, and nods.*

Yeah... I, erm, I'll need my bag...

*He hadn't removed many of the packets when he'd arrived at his flat, and Gene had thrown it all back in there anyway... It shouldn't be hard to find the ones he needs.*
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Gene Hunt
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Righto. Two ticks.

*with that, Gene moves off to pick up the bag, dropping it onto his chair and beginning to rummage through.*

What d'you need? Just painkillers?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam blinks - this is unexpected, the fact that Gene is even taking it upon himself to get the right painkillers for him...! It makes Sam hesitate for a second.*

Uh... Y-yeah. The, uhm...

*Finally, he catches himself, taking a little breath and unconsciously sitting up a bit straighter*

I'll need the reddish bottle and that one green and white package...

*The names of those painkillers are so hard to remember that instead, Sam has simply memorised their packaging. Constantly slightly under the influence and thus drowsy as he is, it's far easier than trying to remember a long name with too many y's and consonants.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene frowns down at the bags contents, rummaging through them until he finds what he's looking for - he'll check they definitely are the right ones before Sam swallows any though - he doesn't want to be responsible for any accidents. *

Okay. This all you need? 'Cos you've got enough in here I could arrest you for robbing a pharmacy.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam pulls a slight grimace, muttering*

Don't I know it.

*in his normal voice - which isn't that much louder at the moment*

Yeah. And uhm, a glass of water.

*It's still somewhat unsettling to watch Gene rummage through the bag and really inspect all the packages and bottles - Sam would have expected him to simply plonk the bag down next to Sam, leaving it to him to find what he needs...

But then, this does somewhat fit with how much Gene has been helping him already during these last couple hours, doesn't it...?*
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Gene Hunt
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*water - of course.*

One sec.

*feeling slightly flustered, Gene moves through to the kitchen and fills up a glass. He's not used to looking after someone in this way - it's been a long time.

A few seconds later, Gene's back in front of Sam and holding out the water.*

'Ere. That enough?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam watches Gene move about, noting the slight awkwardness of his stance. Just one more thing that's odd about this situation, even when they've both had time to adjust to it.

Sam reaches out and takes the glass with a grateful nod.*

Yeah, thanks.

*However he sets it down near immediately, holding it in place between his legs before holding his hand out again, this time for the pills. It's difficult with just one hand, doing all of this - his left hand is in the sling, to remind him not to use it, to not even twitch his fingers (that's the hard part), especially when he can't even feel it properly most of the time. The only times it makes itself known is when the painkillers wear off, when it all just starts to throb and sting.

Like it's currently doing. But Sam is trying his best not to show it.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene can see that Sam's still a little shaky, and he knows that holding the water and taking the pill is going to be a bit of an effort - but he doesn't want to tread on Sam's toes. If he starts fussing and trying to help even more, how's Sam going to take it? It's too much of a risk.

So Gene drops the pills into Sam's hand and takes a step back to give him his space.*

S'pose you're gonna wanna take a kip next? If they're gonna make you even more dopey than usual?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam's fingers close around the pills and he lowers his hand, hesitating for a moment as Gene steps back. Gene is right - these ones, meant for the night, do have a fairly strong sedating effect on him.

So Sam nods.*

Yeah... I'll be out like a light within half an hour, once I've taken them.

*Which is good - they should keep the nightmares at bay...

Should.

Sam shoves the first pill into his mouth and follows that up with a few swigs of water, and then the second one is gone just as fast. Sam places the now nearly empty glass on the little sofa table and makes to push himself up, before realising that he has no idea where he's going to be sleeping. The realisation makes him stop in his motions.*
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Gene Hunt
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*right... So at least Sam should be out like a light. He's going to need the rest.

And then his thoughts turn to the same subject as Sam. Where he's going to sleep.

And he realises he hasn't had time to prepare the spare room.

Damn.*

Uh, right... So I s'pose we'd better get you into the spare room before I have to carry you up the stairs like the blushing bride you are.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam snorts slightly at that, but continues to push himself up, finally standing somewhat upright. His cane is nowhere to be seen... They must've left it in the car. Well, no matter.*

Right, okay.

*Sam glances up at Gene then - they're standing close to each other. Very close.

Close enough for Sam to just reach out and... And......

Sam swallows.*

Lead... Lead the way, then?
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Gene Hunt
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... Right.

*awkwardly, Gene holds an arm out for Sam to take. There's a short flight of stairs between Sam and the bed, and he's probably going to need some help.*

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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam's eyes flick down to Gene's arm, and for a moment, he doesn't know what to do. Gene is offering, just like he did in Sam's flat... It's surreal. Of all the things that might happen, there are some things Sam only dared to dream of... and now they're happening. And despite everything he's had to suffer through lately, it still gives Sam a strange fluttery feeling when he allows himself to properly think about the current situation.

The moment passes, and - unlike before in Sam's flat - Sam reaches out and takes Gene's arm (properly, not gingerly like one might expect), a grateful smile flickering across his lips before he lowers his gaze again.*
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Gene Hunt
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*something stirs in Gene's own stomach when Sam takes his arm. It's that smile. Even though this is odd and awkward for the both of them, Sam's still trying.

But he can't stand around and stare at his DI all day... It's time to move.

Slowly and at Sam's own pace, Gene helps him out of the lounge and to the bottom of the stairs.

With Sam's body as it is, it's going to be bit of a slow trek - but they can do it. If Sam can't handle the stairs he'll just have to carry him.*

Alright... Come on then, up Everest we go.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam is grateful for how much Gene is trying to accommodate him as they move put of the lounge slowly, his back twinging and burning distantly, other pains and aches rolling through him, though he knows that those will fade away soon as well.

And it is slow going indeed, as Sam has to properly later an on Gene for support, missing his cane. His right knee won't take much weight yet, and so Sam limps along, his jaw set.

His gaze trails up the stairs - just this left to do, only those few steps... He can do this.*

It's not... Quite as bad as that.

*He tries to say it with humour, but his voice is cracking slightly with the creeping tiredness. Nevertheless, Sam keeps moving, lifting his good leg first, then dragging his damaged one along. And so on, step by step... *
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Gene Hunt
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*it pains Gene to see Sam so hobbled - he's used to Sam being the agile one - the one who races after suspects, rolls over cars, spends his mornings running round the block like a headless chicken... And now to see him moving so stiffly? It's hard to watch.

But they make it. Finally at the top of the stairs, Gene steers Sam to one of the doorways on the landing, flicking on the light switch.

And the sight in front of them is rather a messy one. Stuff in cardboard boxes, a rather dusty windowsill and half-drawn curtains. It's very clear that this isn't a room Gene'd expected to fill anytime soon.

Awkwardly, Gene pauses.*

Uhhm... One sec...

*leaving Sam at the doorway, he moves into the room and starts shoving the boxes aside, making the room somewhat liveable*

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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam is out of breath by the time they reach the door and Gene flicks on the light, so he takes in the sight without saying a word, chest heaving. He leans against the doorframe, trying to keep weight off his bad leg and to stop himself from sliding down to the ground as he watches Gene, moving about awkwardly. It sets his mind wandering.

Gene's wife nowhere to be seen - Gene not even mentioning her - and now this room here, so full with boxes...

Sam blinks, realising that he's started to sag. He pulls himself back up stiffly, his train of thoughts interrupted, and suddenly he can't bear the silence anymore, can't bear to just watch Gene labouring away.

Slurring slightly, Sam practically blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.*

Don't... don't get a lotta visitors, d'you.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene stops in his tracks, looking up at Sam for a moment. The question strikes him as odd, and it takes a second for him to grasp Sam's meaning. The boxes, the dust... It's rather obvious that nobody's used this room in a while. And it's also rather obvious that the stuff in the boxes is of the more feminine variety. Knicknacks and ornaments, clothes and hair bits and make up. Things that should by rights be laying about the house in their own place. But they're hidden out of view instead.

Realising that Sam might be putting two and two together, Gene kicks the last box against the wall and straightens out the duvet.*

Not sleepin' in my spare bed, no.

Right, 'ere you go - I'd apologise for the flowery blanket but it seems right up your street.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam's lips twitch minutely, and he inclines his head slightly.*

Nothin' wrong with flowers.

*Any mattress and blanket sound good right now. Anything that he can lie down on... The drugs, potent as they are, are kicking in very fast, and Sam blinks again, pushing himself up once more. Back in the hospital that never was an issue, because he was lying down anyway, but right now Sam is getting increasingly dizzy, fuzz seeming to fill his head... he really needs to sit down...

Determined to take things into his own hands, Sam pushes himself away from the doorway and takes a step towards the bed, intending to sit down there - but the step turns into a stumble, his knees having gone weak and wobbly...!*

Wh-whoa...!
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Gene Hunt
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*uh oh!

Sewing Sam's plight, Gene takes a rushed step forward and grabs for Sam, trying to seize his clothes rather than his actual body to hold him up - Gene still isn't entirely sure what he's supposed to be avoiding.*

'Ey...!

*holding Sam up as best as he can, Gene tries to steer him towards the bed with the aim of getting him sat down.*

Jesus...you sure you're alright to be walking about?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam reaches out at the same time as Gene grabs him, catching himself against Gene's chest and leaning against him heavily. If it jostles any of his injuries, Sam can't tell anymore - these painkillers are potent enough to have subdued any lingering pain by now.

This is different from before, when he nearly fell out of the car, though - Sam knows what's going on, he knows he's in Gene's home, in Gene's presence even.... he knows he's simply tired.

He just needs to rest.

Taking a breath and attempting (and failing) to steady himself, Sam murmurs*

Wanted t'.... siddown...

*And a moment later and with Gene's help he does just that, sinking down onto the bed with a quiet sigh.*
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Gene Hunt
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*feeling a little bad for not thinking of that sooner, Gene makes sure that Sam's sat down properly before replying.*

Wouldn't try sitting down on that carpet if I were you. Think most of it's dust.

*scans the room once more before finally settling his eyes on Sam again.

He's in his clothes. Can he even get undressed?? God, he really didn't think this through did he.... *

You, uh... Sleep in yer undies or what?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam looks up at Gene somewhat blearily, needing a few seconds to process his words.*

... uhm... I 'adn't... thought about it...

*This is his first night out of the hospital... the first night during which he's had to worry about dressing and undressing... early that day, a nurse had helped him into his clothes, and that had been quite a struggle...

The memory makes Sam realise that, if he asks the same of Gene, things will get embarrassing quickly. So, with what's left of a clear mind, Sam attempts to diffuse the situation.*

I can sleep like this... s'fine......

*And he's shuffling his feet already, trying to just kick off his boots, except of course that won't work too well with one damaged leg, and the zips of his boots yet to be undone...*
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Gene Hunt
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*It doesn't sit right with Gene to let Sam sleep in his clothes - not with his injuries and everything. The man needs to rest, needs to be comfortable.

But he can't just force Sam to take off his trousers, can he. It's not his place to. And while he wants to do everything he can to help Sam, he can't go that far. 'Not yet', a voice in his mind says, but he firmly ignores that.

The least he can do is help Sam with his boots though.

With a huff, Gene kneels down in front of Sam and starts to pull the boots off him. Not looking at Sam, he can't help muttering though.*

Not the comfiest of sleeping attire.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam blinks when Gene gets down on his knees in front of him, starting to.... starting to take off his boots.

Gene is helping him undress.

Sam is so stunned by that fact that for a few seconds, he says nothing, just holds against Gene's pull. His eyes are fixed on Gene, so much so that he pitches forward slightly, though he manages to catch himself before Gene might notice anything.

Gene is right, of course... Sam should definitely undress. The doctors have made it abundantly clear to him that he's got to look after himself now...

Once again, tired and increasingly doped up as he is, Sam murmurs the first thing that crosses his mind.*

... couldn' get out of it if I tried...
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Gene Hunt
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*....... Well. That sounds like a challenge. And it also confirms what Gene was thinking before. He can't leave Sam to sleep in his clothes.

He looks up at Sam once more, taking in the tired and slightly dopey look on his face. Sam probably won't even remember this in the morning. So, here goes.*

Right. I've seen enough todgers in National Service. One more won't hurt. Come on, up.

*Gene pushes himself up and holds out his arm for Sam to grab onto. If he can just get Sam out of those trousers and that shirt that should do.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*If he weren't so sleepy by now, Sam would be staring at Gene, unmoving.

Actually, he is doing just that, blinking blearily and yet very obviously dumb-founded. He simply isn't read for Gene being this obliging, this... considerate. Helping so much. Caring for Sam to that point.

However, and that probably is thanks to the drugs as well, Gene's commanding tone gets Sam moving without protestations (for once). He reaches out a little clumsily with his good hand, trying to hold on and pull himself up.*
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Gene Hunt
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*trying very hard not to feel anything (keep your eyes down, face blank, Gene - don't let him know what this is doing to you), Gene helps Sam to his feet. Knowing that his deputy is still unsteady he makes it quick - reaching down to unzip Sam's trousers.

Even though Gene tries his hardest to separate his feelings from the action, he can't help but feel a twinge of inappropriate excitement at the sound, the close proximity.... It's easy enough to imagine this was taking place in a completely different circumstance...

He blinks hard, shaking himself out of this thought process - jesus, what's wrong with him???

Swiftly and methodically Gene shoves down on Sam's trousers until they're at his knees. Then with a grunt,*

OK, sit down.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*It's very lucky for Sam (and Gene) that the former is almost completely incapacitated by the painkillers by now. If he wasn't, the fact that Gene is undoing his zip - hell, is anywhere near his groin - would be doing things to Sam that would be extremely hard to explain away.

As it is, Sam is clinging onto Gene's shoulder to stop himself from collapsing, very aware of their close proximity, but not aware enough to make all too much of it. All he wants right now is to lie down, to sleep... There's no energy left to think about how Gene is pulling down his trousers, how Sam's been fantasizing about that for so long.......

And then, upon Gene's command, he's sitting down again, suddenly feeling that little bit more cold with his trousers missing. He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs across them with his hand to keep himself from falling asleep before this is done...

Maybe he should help along....

Slowly, Sam reaches up with his good hand and attempts to undo the buttons on his shirt - not exactly an easy thing to do with just one hand and tired as he is, so his success is... moderate, at best.*
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*Gene's pulling Sam's legs out of his trousers when he sees Sam begin to fiddle with his buttons.*

Oi, don't you knacker the other wrist, you've only got one.

*He throws Sam's trousers over into the corner of the room and reaches up to Sam's hand and takes over, undoing the buttons one by one.*

You good with taking that sling off? Or does it stay on?
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*Sam is oddly reluctant to remove his hand, especially with how Gene is touching it, however fleetingly...

He blinks, trying to get his brain to work well enough to respond to Gene in a way that will make sense. His words strike a chord within Sam, something that makes him want to withdraw... Because it's both his wrists that are knackered, isn't it...*

... Won't make a difference...

*Then, after a little pause, he adds*

... Takin' it off's alright...
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*blimey, Sam seems to he getting more addled by the minute. Good thing they got him upstairs when they did. He'll definitely be sleeping in his smalls though - Gene can't try to wrestle him into pyjamas in this state.*

Alrighty, let's get that rid of then.

*gently and cautiously, Gene tries to disentangle Sam's bad arm from the sling. He doesn't want to hurt him, so his moves are slow and careful.*
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*It takes Sam a moment to understand what Gene is trying to do - but that little moment is enough to make him flinch, as Gene's hands come to rest on his bad arm. It shouldn't make a difference - Gene has been touching him all evening long, one way or another - but there is something about Sam's addled state, and the fact that this is about his injuries and nothing else, that makes Sam shy away, makes him duck and try to withdraw from Gene's grasp.

One tiny moment.

Then, his mind catches up, and Sam tries to help along: carefully moving his injured arm so as not to upset his fingers in their splints. At the same time, Sam uses his good hand to help Gene along, pulling the sling away from his arm and, clumsily, over his head.*
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*the flinch doesn't go unnoticed, and Gene feels a stab of sympathy and anger as he realises why it happened.

Trent's going to get what's coming to him. Gene'll make sure of that. He'll pay. He'll pay for doing this.

Suppressing the urge to say something, Gene moves on. Mentioning it wouldn't do Sam any good. Best to try and help him forget it if possible...

So he pulls the sling from Sam, dumping that on top of his trousers. And now the way is clear, he can finally get that shirt fully off of him.

Working to do so, Gene pipes up.*

There we go. You can die happy now . Only the luckiest birds have the privilege of being undressed by the Gene Gene!
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*Despite how sleepy Sam is by now, Gene's comment is so blatant in its nature, that its full meaning is not lost on him.

Gene is undressing him indeed.

Sam blinks, faintly noticing how heat is rising up to his face. *

.... U-uhm.

*Sam is too stunned (and sleepy) to come up with a deadpan reply like he normally would - laughing it off, deflecting, distracting from what he really is thinking - and too stunned even to keep helping along.

And so he doesn't resist as his shirt slides off... As the bandages come into view. Sam's entire upper body is bandaged, but there still are bruises peeking out from underneath. And as Sam is left sitting there with his skin exposed to the air, he starts to shiver - not just because of the cold, because suddenly, through the painkiller-induced haze, he feels exposed. Vulnerable. And it's becoming a bit too much for him, this along with the embarrassment, his confusion, his hurt, and underneath all that his feelings for Gene... It's enough to make him feel somewhat dizzy and ill.*
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*Jesus... Look at him. The bandages, the bruises... Sam looks like he's been put through a lawnmower. The mere sight of him is enough to send Gene's heart pumping faster - but with revenge, not lust this time. A flash of fire goes through him, anger and the need to make this right somehow. On Sam's behalf he needs to make it right.

But for now, this is all he can do. The only way he can make it right is to help Sam recover. Make him comfortable and keep him from dwelling on what happened.

So, Gene tries hard not to stare. Instead, he starts to pull the blankets down the bed.*

C'mon, get under here. You shiver any more and you'll fall apart!
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*Sam's eyes start to fall shut of their own accord, and Sam has to blink hard in order to keep them open for just a little while longer. He scoots up a little, and then slowly, he shifts - he has to do it slowly, because despite the potent painkillers, moving about still is uncomfortable, makes him feel like his skin is far too tight, that it doesn't fit him anymore.

So Sam lies down very carefully, very slowly. He shifts onto his left side; at the hospital, he'd been lying on his back, but that doesn't seem like an option now, not with his back feeling the way it does. Cradling his bad hand to his body protectively, Sam curls up as far as he can (not very far - once again the stitches limit his motions), still shivering. But God, the mattress feels comfortable... even if the lingering dust is tickling his nose.

His eyes are falling shut again, but Sam forces one of them open just one more time, trying to focus on Gene. On the fact that, despite all his jibes, he's been taking care of Sam this entire time in... yes, in a sweet way, almost.

Hardly aware that he's doing it, Sam mumbles*

.... y're not too bad a nurse......
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*Gene gives Sam his space as he lies down - he doesn't want to hinder him at all. Best to just... Let him manage.

But he looks so sleepy... So tired... It stirs something in Gene's heart. Something he needs to ignore...*

Yeah well. Just don't imagine me in the dress.

You uh... Gonna be alright then? I'm just round the corner.
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*Sam huffs softly, reaching out with his good hand to pull up the blanket. He wants to cover himself completely - has to do that, in order to feel safe - but with his very limited radius of motion, he doesn't quite manage.

He gives a quiet 'mmh' in reply to Gene, having abandoned the blanket in favour of just letting himself relax. Sam's eyes won't stay open any longer, and he shifts his head slightly until at least that is in a comfortable position.

He'd like to thank Gene... For doing his best to try and make Sam feel welcome, and safe... But it's too late, the painkillers are finally pulling him down completely. Sam exhales with a sigh, and now it's only a matter of minutes until he's asleep.

Which is why, a few minutes later, he doesn't hear the insistent ringing of the phone.*
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*Gene can't help but stay and watch as Sam falls asleep. He can kid himself and say it's just to make sure Sam isn't going to have a bout of insomnia and keep them both up all night... But he knows that isn't true. He just can't pull himself away. But while Sam's looking more peaceful than he has done in what feels like an age.

The phone shocks Gene out of his thoughts - jesus, it's going to wake Sam up!

Regretfully, he hurries out of the room and to the phone in the hall. There's irritation in his hushed voice when he answers.*

What! Hello?
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*However, Sam doesn't wake up - for now, the drugs are keeping him dead to the world.

"Guv!"

Gene is met with... Annie's breathless voice.

"I, I'm at Sam's place, but he isn't there. He isn't..." It's obvious that Annie is trying very hard not to panic, that she's barely keeping it together.

"He was discharged today and didn't tell anyone, but I knew and I wanted to check in on him, but he isn't here - hardly anything's touched, and his bag's nowhere to be seen, and..."*
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*Gene flinches at the sound of Annie's distress - she sounds panicked, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what she thinks has happened.*

Whoa! It's alright - don't get your knickers in a twist! He's with me, I've got 'im.

*Jesus , she knew Sam was coming out? And she didn't tell him? He's the Guv, surely she'd have thought to let him know??*
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*"You -- what?"

There's several seconds of stunned silence on the other end of the line. Then, an audible exhalation.

"You... you went and picked 'im up, then."

Annie sounds... relieved. Definitely relieved. To know that Sam is safe, that he's with the Guv even... but she can't quite believe what she's hearing either. The entire week, Gene has been effectively avoiding Sam... Not asking about how he was doing... And now this? What's brought that change on...?

"I, uhm, if you want me to pick 'im up..."*
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*Gene frowns, a sudden embarrassment rising in him.*

I didn't pick 'im up on purpose! Nitwit didn't even tell me he was coming out! Only bumped into' im 'cos I was picking something up from his flat.

*hoping that was enough to innocently explain himself, Gene continues warily.*

Don't bother about getting him - doubt an exploding elephant'd wake' im up right now. I'll make sure he doesn't cop it.
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*".... Right."

Just that one word carries a lot of what Annie is thinking - how hard it is for her to wrap her head around the situation, how she's struggling to pull herself together.

However, when she repeats it, a second later, all that is gone - she's Annie, after all. She's capable of adapting.

"Right. Well, I'm glad to know DI Tyler is being looked after. Sorry for bothering you, and, uhm, good night!"*
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*Gene can hear the surprise and uncertainty in Annie's voice - clearly this is a giant shock for her too. She'd expected Sam to end up in Gene's spare room just as much as Gene had.

Then suddenly he thinks - Annie does know that Sam's in the spare room, right!? She doesn't think they're--

Before he can think, he blurts out just as Annie seems to be about to hang up*

--He's in the spare bed!
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*There's silence down the line. Annie is blinking and frowning, completely thrown by Gene's remark.

... where else would Sam be? Annie didn't think Gene would let Sam sleep on the floor after all, so...???

When she realises she hasn't said anything in a good few seconds, she hurries to stutter at least something out.

"........ uhm. Good? That's, that's good."

Another moment of silence, before she remembers something else.

"Oh, uhm, do you... d'you want me to pick 'im up tomorrow? Or....?"

Or is Sam going to stay with the Guv now? Strangely, Annie can see that happen just as much as she can't see it happened.
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*Shit. He's made her more suspicious hasn't he. Great. Trying to keep his voice casual and relaxed, Gene shrugs. Annie may want to look after Sam, but... He's here now isn't he. It'd be a hassle for Sam if they tried to move him in the morning. Plus does Annie even have a spare room? Gene doesn't know. And what about food? She's going to want to cook Sam a bunch of 'healthy' food isn't she. When Gene knows that it's most important to have what you like when you're sick. Things that taste food. Heal the soul.

So nonchalantly, Gene attempts an explanation.*

Naah, doubt he'll be with it tomorrow morning. Might have to let the great lump sleep in. Better let 'im rest, I say.
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*"All right."

Annie has managed to gather herself now, responding in her usual voice, doing her best to sound as normal as possible. But in the end... she's relieved that Gene seems to be willing to look after Sam. She still could never have seen this coming, of course, but now that it's happened, there's no use in getting worked up over it, is there? No, if Gene is doing this of his own free will (and there really is no other way he'd do this), then it's fine. It wouldn't be in Annie's place to question it.

Exhaling, Annie manages a little smile and adds, "Thank you, Guv." And she means it.

"Good night."*
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*Relieved that Annie doesn't seem to be suspicious enough to ask any questions, Gene bids her a good night and hangs up with a sigh.

Well. That could have gone worse. Could have gone better, but.... Could have gone worse.

His gaze flicks back to the hallway and the room housing his ailing deputy. Should he go back in? There's no reason to, but... He could check that everything's okay...

No, he can't. It's not right, for one bloke to watch another bloke sleep. He'll leave Sam be. He might wake him up, after all.

And secretly, Gene's worried if he goes in there he might never leave....

So he stands up a little taller, forcing himself back to normal before padding into his own bedroom and at last slipping into bed. He leaves the hallway light on (doesn't want Sam to wake up and fall down the stairs like a twit), and leaves his bedroom door open (his snoring can be Sam's alarm clock). No other reasons, of course.*
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*The painkillers keep Sam under until the wee hours of the morning.

And normally, with how exhausted he was the day before, they would have made him sleep until well past sunrise...

But not this night. Not when so much happened - he'd gotten used to the hospital environment, to knowing that he was safe, that there would always be a top-up handy for when he needed it, but all that is gone now. Sam's subconscious is active, the cogs in his brain turning relentlessly, and so it's around two in the morning when Sam wakes up with a startled intake of breath, heart beating hard and fast.

The first thing he's sure of is that he'd been dreaming, and even though he can't remember any specifics, he knows that they were unpleasant dreams.

The next thing he knows is that he has no idea where he is.

Sam's heart is racing, his eyes wide, searching, and at first he can't see anything but darkness... And then he notices the rectangular patch of light on the ground... following it with his eyes, he realises that its light coming in from the hallway.

The hallway... not the hospital hallway, definitely not his own apartment...

Unblinking, Sam stares at the doorway, trying to get his addled mind to work out what happened, his breath coming out in shallow gasps.

And finally, just like that, it clicks - he's in Gene's house. And now that he's remembered, he thinks he can faintly hear someone snoring, softly, in a different room... Gene, probably. Hopefully.

Sam holds his breath and then exhales very slowly. He's completely tense, and that won't do... The painkillers haven't worn off completely yet, but there's discomfort, a constant pulling across his back, and he doesn't get his muscles to relax, it's only going to get worse.

But Sam can't relax. He's unable to fall back asleep as well. The following hours, Sam keeps telling himself, I'm safe. I'm in Gene's house. The light is on. Gene is here. I'm ok. Nothing's going to happen. It's safe, I'm safe. It doesn't work. It's unfamiliar space, and every little creak of wood, every little shift in the material makes Sam flinch, sets his heart racing again. As dusk breaks outside, Sam's eyes falls shut, but again, innocent things like the milkman setting down bottles outside, or the newspaper coming flying in through the door flap, shake Sam right out of it again.

And all the while, Sam does his best not to think of the reason for all of this. Because if he keeps his mind off it, it has to get better... it has to...!

It's around 7am that Sam's eyes fall shut once more, and he can feel himself slipping away...*
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*Gene wakes up in the morning as usual - and for a long few minutes he doesn't remember that there's anything different at all. He's comfy and warm and there's still ten minutes before he really needs to get up...

But then it hits him. He remembers. He's not alone in this house this morning. It's odd, after so long being the sole occupant. And it's not any visitor either. It's his DI. Sam. Gene cringes slightly as he remembers the reason he was trying to avoid Sam in the first place - but maybe today will be different. Maybe his mind and body will control themselves today.

Fat chance.

Knowing that he's got extra breakfast to make, Gene forgoes his extra ten minutes snooze in order to push himself up and shrug on his dressing gown. Better go check to see Sam's alright. He hadn't heard a peep all night... Hopefully that means Sam slept right through.

As he approaches the doorway, Gene can't hear anything or see any movement - Sam must still be asleep.... But best to check. He might be due some painkillers about now.

Roughly, Gene whispers*

Oi, Sleeping Beauty. You pretty enough yet?
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*With how exhausted he is, Sam has drifted off somewhat by the time Gene gets up. The sound of footsteps is enough to pull him out of that, however, and enough to set his heart racing once more - he's disoriented with sleep deprivation, and for one horrible moment, he's back in that shed, back...

And then it's Gene's voice that drifts into the room. Sam exhales audibly, his good fist unclenching. His entire body is tense once more, but Sam forces himself to calm down, to keep his voice as calm as possible. This is Gene... it's alright. It's fine.

And yet, this is Gene. His superior. The man he... the man he loves. Rationally, Sam knows that Gene can't think any worse of him for what happened, and yet... and yet, Sam finds himself doing his best not to let Gene hear how rotten he feels. How shattered and highly strung. it's a miracle that Gene has taken it on himself to care for Sam during this time... and there's a voice in his head that's whispering to him that he can't let the Guv know how weak he is now. He needs to hide it as best as he can.

So, trying to steady himself mentally, Sam replies with a bit of a delay, his voice sounding every bit as rough as Gene's (Sam's throat still hasn't quite recovered from Trent pressing down on it with his shoe)*

... good morning to you too.

*There, that's a good half-way chipper answer... right? Sam swallows, trying to clear his throat a little, wincing at the faint sting that shoots through it*
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*in the relative gloom of the bedroom and hidden under the duvet, Gene can't see the way Sam's tensed up, and while Sam's voice sounds rough his words are full of the usual snark and attitude.

Looks like he's okay... So far, anyway.

Feeling more relieved than he'd like, Gene snorts and leans against the doorframe.*

What're you wanting then? Toast? Tea? Fry up? Ain't got no poxy 'orgasmic yoghurt' or whatever you call it so don't ask.
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*Sam's lips twitch briefly at the mention of 'orgasmic', and he gives a little huff. However, that offhand remark helps him relax a little more, and he shifts, pushing himself up on his good arm in order to sit up.*

Just... toast and tea will be fine... thanks.

*It's slow going, with the bandages hampering his movements, and a twinge goes through him that makes Sam squeeze his eyes shut, grimacing slightly. He can't do it, he can't hide these things... he's too weak still.

Sam can't help but shoot a glance over at Gene, leaning there in the doorway nonchalant as you like. He can't see much since the light is in Gene's back, but he can make out the fuzzy outline of a dressing gown. Sam's gaze lingers, momentarily distracted from his misery. This... this is the first time he's seeing Gene in a dressing gown, in such a private environment.*
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*Gene watches Sam struggle to push himself up - should he really be getting out of bed? But then he becomes aware of the way Sam's looking at him, and for some reason he suddenly feels rather self-conscious. He should have realised that Sam'd give him a funny look, prancing around in his dressing gown.

Sam's already seen him naked apart from his stylish swimming trunks though - so Gene tries to ignore the hope for what it means and dusts his hands together decisively.*

Right. You want it up here or are you gonna hobble down the stairs?

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*Lately, Gene's had a way of constantly throwing off Sam.

He blinks, trying to make out Gene's expression.*

Didn't know I 'ad a choice...! Erm...

*He looks down himself, realizing for the first time that he himself is practically half-naked as well, underneath the duvet. Christ, this is all too much, after half a night spent in baseless terror. Sam closes his eyes, willing his mind to stop repeating the same reel of panicked thoughts over and over.

What he needs... what he really needs, right now, is to let Gene believe it's not as bad as it looks. He might be looking after Sam now, even seems to be sympathetic and exceptionally accommodating, but... Sam is scared that that might shift and become the opposite within the blink of an eye. That thought alone makes ice cold fear settle in his belly. No, he can't let that happen, not when it's so.... nice, right now.

So, Sam forces himself to look at Gene again, willing himself to sound convincing even with how rough his abused throat is making his voice sound.*

... I'll get up. Been lying around enough in hospital.

*And he already moves to heave himself up further, until he's finally sitting up, waiting for the stiffness and metallic pain to subside enough to actually get out of bed.*
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*unconvinced by Sam's apparent ability to get himself up on his own, Gene's eyes squint slightly. Should he ask if Sam needs help...? Or is that a bit too far? Sam's lucid now, it's not like last night...

He doesn't want to go too far. Doesn't want Sam to become weirded out. Because Gene's weirding himself out enough for everyone!*

Alright. You gimme a shout if you get stuck - I'll go stick the kettle on.

*and as he moves from the doorway and heads towards the stairs he calls back,*

There's a dressing gown hanging on the back of the door.

*He doesn't mention that it's pink and flowery - but Sam can probably guess who it used to belong to.*
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*Sam's stomach sinks a little as Gene starts to move away - he'll have to get up on his own... Still, he can't let on that he might need the help. Yesterday he was confused and tired, and today he's... extremely tired. But during the hours he spent wide awake, trying to keep his thoughts from going down the black pit of his memories, Sam has become convinced that the only way of staying in Gene's favour the way he is now, is to make sure he doesn't seem as weak as he feels.

Yes, he's seen Gene at several low points. Yes, they do trust each other. Sam trusts Gene.

He loves Gene.

But the fact remains that Gene was gone for an entire week. The only conclusion Sam is able to draw from this, is that Gene didn't think it worth his time to visit him in hospital. Or that he thought Sam didn't need the attention - the affection.

Well, Sam does. And he also knows that Gene can't stand weak men.

So he can't be weak.

And so, calling a 'thanks' after Gene as the latter walks down the stairs, Sam heaves himself out of bed, grimacing as the movements seem to pull on every single stitch, on every little bruise on his body. He makes it to the door somehow, discovering that said dressing gown is indeed very pink. And very flowery.

Sam hovers for a few seconds, uncertain and bemused. In the end, though, he knows that he won't be able to dress before he's had his painkillers, and so he very carefully slips into the gown, wincing at how the fabric scrapes over the bandages. Next he puts on the sling, making sure his bad arm is secured properly. His broken fingers still hurt at every involuntary twitch, so having his hand rest in a sling really helps to prevent that from happening. A relatively quick trip to the loo later (at least that still works without much of a problem), Sam makes his way down the stairs slowly. His leg isn't protesting as much as it did the day before, but he still wishes he had his cane... he'll need to ask Gene to get it from the Cortina.

Finally, holding onto the door frame for support, Sam peers into the kitchen.*
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*unaware of Sam's thought process, Gene busies himself with starting breakfast. Two mugs of tea this time - there's something comforting about that.

The kettle's boiled and the tea just about steeped by the time Sam pokes his head around the doorway. It's taken him a while to get down here, Gene realises - maybe he should have offered to help after all....

But no use in thinking that now.*

Nice of you to join us! Milk and no sugar, that right?

*places one mug down pointedly at the breakfast table in a very 'sit down before you fall down' sort of way*
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*Sam gives Gene a somewhat weak smile, still holding onto the door frame. He's out of breath just from walking down the stairs... still though, the sight of Gene making breakfast and actually looking enthusiastic about it is enough to raise his spirits (and hopes, a little).*

Yeah, thanks.

*He looks over to the table, trying to gauge the distance... but there's no point in putting it off. He'll better once he's able to sit down...

So Sam pushes himself away from the doorway and limps over to the table. For a moment, he hovers uncertainly by the chair that's nearest to him... but the thought of having the door at his back makes his chest go horribly tight, so Sam moves along, lowering himself carefully into the chair that allows him to have both the windows and the door in his view. And, incidentally, it's the one closest to the kitchen counter, and thus Gene, as well.

Pulling the mug over to him with his good hand, Sam glances up at Gene, and tries to put as much nonchalance into his voice as he asks*

So... what cases have you been working lately? Annie wouldn't tell me.

*Though it wasn't like Sam had insisted she tell him either.*
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*seeing that Sam's taking his lead and accepting the tea, Gene drops two slices of bread into the toaster. At least Sam seems to be feeling chatty. That's a good sign.*

Apart from yours? Ahh, y'know. The usual. Robbery at an offie, assault at the bookie's and some nonce waving 'is flappy bits at passers by. Flavour of the week.

*sips at his own tea, looking over the lip of the toaster impatiently. He doesn't know how much to tell Sam. He doesn't want him to be tempted back to work too early, but he also doesn't want him to feel like he's not needed. As much confusion and turmoil that Gene's had over Sam the last week he does miss the little sod.*

You'd' ave liked the robbery, though. Berk thought it'd be a good idea to stash a bottle down 'is pants on the way out. Had a tussle with' im, we both went arse over tit and the next thing I know he's rolling about on the ground with two buttocks full of broken glass.

*sips again nonchalantly*

That'll teach 'im to steal cheap blended. If you're gonna nick some booze at least go for the good stuff!
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam listens intently as Gene talks, and he can't help but snort a laugh at the luckless robber, lowering his head slightly as if to hide the smile on his face. It's... it's good to hear these stories. Even though it sounds like they're getting on very well without Sam...

But of course they would. They're all professionals (more or less). Sam strokes the thumb of his good hand along the mug's rim, somewhat losing himself in his own thoughts. Despite what Gene might think, Sam isn't actually very keen on returning to work. The damage done to his back is so present, as is the fact that his left hand is out of commission entirely. The doctors have told him that he should make a near complete recovery from all of this, but...

It was Sam who initiated the conversation, but now he finds that he can't think of anything to say in response to Gene's little tale. Not one witty retort, or dry correction comes to mind. Nothing. Sam blinks, letting go of his mug in order to rub at his eyes. He's tired, that's all it is, surely... He didn't get a lot of sleep, after all...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene waits for Sam's response, a look of hopeful anticipation on his face - but as Sam deflates after his chuckle and does nothing but rub at his eyes tiredly, Gene's own look of optimism crumbles.

He isn't sure whether Sam's silence is down to tiredness or a regret over asking about work, but his response is the same either way. Once he's sure Sam isn't going to say anything, Gene fishes the toast out and drops it onto a plate, then depositing it and a pat of butter onto the table in front of Sam.*

Penny for your thoughts? Or will I just end up wanting a refund?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam looks up, shaken out of his thoughts and momentarily confused. Then he blinks.*

Oh. Sorry, uhm...

*Sam shakes his head as though that will wake him up properly*

I was just... thinking that he might press charges.

*pauses, frowning slightly*

... though I guess he wouldn't. Why would he.

*Not in this day and age, Sam adds in his thoughts.*

Sorry, I...

*stares back down at his mug, gripping it a little bit tighter*

... it's the painkillers. Take forever to get out of my system.

*It's a weak excuse, but Sam still hopes beyond reason that Gene will believe it.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Frowning, Gene looks Sam up and down.*

Hmm.

*He hopes that's all it is. Something about Sam's demeanor makes him wonder... But then, who is he to doubt? Pain medication can be an absolute nightmare, and Gene doesn't want to give Sam any reason to not take it. He can't have Sam thinking he's weak or anything.

So, Gene lets it go. Taking his own tea, Gene sits down opposite Sam and takes a sip.*

You staying 'ere today then? Shame I won't be 'ere to babysit, but I'm sure Cartwright can nip over later, warm up your milk?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam almost sighs with relief as Gene doesn't mention this weird little slip-up - but at the same time, there's part of him that was furiously hoping for Gene to prod further, to realize it wasn't just the painkillers, and to... to help. To show sympathy, and...

No, stop. It won't happen. Not in that way.

Sam glances up as Gene speaks, returning his gaze.*

Well, if you aren't chucking me out, I suppose I'm staying.

*Sam doesn't smile, but there's a lighter tone in his voice than there was before.*
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Gene Hunt
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*phew. Good.*

Right. You make yourself at home then. Just don't think about going all cleaning-lady on me.

*likewise, Gene doesn't smile, but his voice sounds amused and relieved. This doesn't seem to be going too badly... *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam gives a little huff, shaking his head.*

Don't think I could, even if I wanted.

*He glances up then, Gene's comment automatically making him to try and see what the state of the kitchen is like. Sam spots dishes in the sink, kitchen appliances and bottles standing around... It's not exactly tidy, but it isn't a complete mess either.

Definitely 100% Gene environment, though. Just Gene.

Sam turns his attention back to his tea, finally picking up his mug and taking a first few sips. He's not touched the toast in front of him yet - he knows he has to eat something in order to take the painkillers, but the lack of sleep is affecting him, making it hard to even consider eating. He'll get to it, he will... he just needs to take it slowly.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene raises an eyebrow, looking at Sam's visible hindrances once more. Yeah, doesn't look like he'll be doing any acrobatics today.

Noticing Sam's wandering gaze and low appetite, Gene adds sincerely,*

Take yer time - there's more food in the cupboards if you get peckish. Got beans and the like. You just make sure you get SOMETHING down you.

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Sam Tyler
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*Sam looks up at Gene once again, remaining silent for a few seconds. Despite how unreadable Gene often is, and how out of it Sam is right now, he still thinks he can tell just how sincere his DCI is being. And this... well, it doesn't get more sincere and honestly worried and helpful as that.

So Sam smiles faintly, nodding.*

I will. Thanks.

*With this, he concentrates on his tea again. The heat of it does him a world of good, warming something that feels like a small, but ice cold core somewhere inside him. It makes his hand that little bit less prone to shaking.*
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Gene Hunt
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*satisfied by Sam's sincerity, Gene nods once. The bloke's skinny enough as it is - missing a meal when he's already weakened isn't exactly the best thing to do, and knowing Sam...

But no. He's agreed to make sure he eats something. Gene won't come home to find him withering away!*

Okay. Right.

I'll, uh... I'll go get ready then.

*and with that, Gene leaves, headed for a shower, a shave and his clothes. A little while later, Gene makes his way back down the stairs, adjusting his freshly chosen tie (it's a Paisley kind of day apparently).

Still oddly unwilling to leave Sam on his own, Gene calls to him*

I'll pop in at lunch if I can - make sure you're not dead!
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam blinks a little - Gene suddenly seems to be in an unusual hurry...

Listening to the sounds of Gene walking up the stairs, and shortly after that the sound of the shower being turned on, Sam remains still and silent for a while, before finally turning his attention back to his breakfast. The toast has nearly cooled down by now, and unwilling to wrestle knife and butter, Sam picks it up and eats it as it is.

Handling the painkiller packets is harder, but he manages, downing them with the remainder of his tea. And by the time he's done with that, he can hear Gene moving about upstairs again, and then coming down the stairs.

And there he is, standing in the doorway, looking somewhat indecisive... adjusting his tie...

Sam catches himself staring and quickly averts his gaze, busying himself with his mug.*

Thanks. Oh - *he looks up again, suddenly remembering* My... my cane is still in the car. Could you...?
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Gene Hunt
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*Oh - Gene'd forgotten about that. Shit.*

What am I, your butler now?

*it's all in jest though - Gene's already turning and heading down the corridor. A moment later he's back and holding the supportive piece of wood that Sam sadly needs.*

You need anything else? Anything you're likely to fall over trying to pick up?

*this is a strange house to Sam after all - and if Sam needs something he doesn't know how to find Gene doesn't exactly want him hunting about and tiring himself*
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Sam Tyler
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*Despite protesting, Gene is out of the door before Sam can change his mind or try and defend himself, and he's back just as quick, holding the cane out for Sam to take. He does (forcing himself to make sure their hands don't touch), lips twitching into a quick, half-grateful half-embarrassed smile.*

Thanks. I'll be fine.

*Anything he needs, he'll find out... he'll be fine. Sam is determined to be fine.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene watches Sam for a moment more before grunting in agreement. Sam will be fine. He said so. Even though he can feel the concern bubbling away in the pit of his stomach he'll just have to accept Sam's promise.*

Okay. I'll try and stick me nose in at lunch if I get a spare minute. Otherwise I'll see you later.

*He nods at Sam meaningfully, emphasising this with a stern instruction.*

You keep taking them pills and getting water down you. I'm not having any doctors givin' me lectures about not looking after you well enough!

*and with that, there's nothing else to do. Gene tugs his coat on and turns, knowing that if he doesn't leave now he never will. Sam's in his house, bound to rest there for the entire day - and Gene can't be there to tease and help him. Damn rotten luck. If there wasn't so much to do at the station.... *

Be good.

*a mixture of complicated feelings swirling in his heart, Gene makes his way out of the house, locking the door behind him just to be sure.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam returns Gene's gaze - finding himself unable to look away, in fact. There's something about Gene's 'order' that makes Sam swallow, makes his heart pick up pace slightly. It sounds so sincere... So genuinely caring, considering this is Gene Hunt who's talking.

And he might even check in at lunch...

Sam nods, oddly elated.*

Will do. Guv.

*And then, Gene is gone. Sam can hear the lock turn on the door, and a few seconds later, the Cortina's engine comes on, then fades away.

"Daddy's gotta go out now, so you behave yourself. If you've been good you might even get a treat when I come back!"

Sam tenses, gripping his mug hard for a moment.

Alone. He's alone. No one else here. No one coming back... apart from Gene.

Sam finishes breakfast quickly, then wrestles the bottles and packages until he's taken his due amount of painkillers. All the while he's torn between switching on the radio or telly, and keeping both off so that he can hear any sounds that might be out of the ordinary.

He tries to settle down, goes through Gene's surprisingly well-stocked bookshelf, picks out a few books, tries to make himself as comfortable as he can on the sofa.

Gets up again, wanders around for a bit.

Tries to doze.

Nothing works. Sam is too wired, too unsettled. The painkillers knock him out for an hour or two, but that's it.

Gene doesn't come back for lunch. Sam digs out some canned soup, manages to cook it without burning himself or spilling anything. More painkillers, more sleeping. More anxiety. Panic that sets his heart racing, nearly makes him hyperventilate.

By the time Gene is back, Sam feels as knackered as though he just worked a twelve-hour-day. When Gene asks, Sam deflects, blames it on the painkillers. Gene seems to buy it.

Sam doesn't sleep much during that night either.

And so it continues, until the end of the week. Sam is more and more on edge, but Gene comes back just as tired and exhausted after each day, so he doesn't seem to notice. Sam is grateful for that - he doesn't know how he would explain himself. He can't even explain it to himself. Sure, he knows roughly how PTSD affects the psyche, and he's self-aware enough to recognise that that is exactly what he's going through... but that doesn't stop Sam from thinking that, really, he should be better than this. He should be considering things logically. He knows Trent has been put away. He knows that Gene cares.

He knows, and yet... And yet, the nightmares keep him from sleeping, keep him from relaxing during the day. The more tired he becomes, the harder it is for him to ward off the wild spirals of self-deprecation and outright fear. Replaying what happened, over and over. His hands go numb more often, and luckily Gene hardly as around when it happens.

Gene. Sam wishes he could confide in Gene.

But how could he? They've become friends, yes, but they don't talk like that. Gene wouldn't want it, and Sam can't get over his own inhibitions either. He wants to get through this by himself. It's not like Gene would even acknowledge something like PTSD, as Sam very well knows. He wouldn't understand. He'd think Sam weak. He'd tell him to man up...

No, Sam keeps his fears and worries to himself, tries not to show just how badly he's affected.

That Friday, however, after four consecutive days of hardly any sleep, it's too much. Sam's limbs feel like lead, his eyes just won't stay open, not even after the third cup of coffee. He barely makes it to the sofa, the cane clattering to the ground as he sinks down into the cushions, hardly feeling the pain of his scars and healing injuries. Sam is out like a light, sleeping through the noon, missing his mid-daily dose of painkillers.*
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Gene Hunt
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*It's a tough week for Gene, though he knows he shouldn't complain - he's not the one who was damn near tortured to death, after all. He may be feeling stressed and run down, overworked and emotionally drained - but he's able to flex his back without pulling on healing scars, and that's a luxury Sam doesn't have.

The thought makes Gene fume every time. Makes his heart throb with an ever stronger desire to make sure Trent and his band of bastards get every little bit of that pain right back. All week he's been juggling double the number of cases and paperwork, handling Sam's half with a manic kind of gusto. Like hell they'll bring another DI in. It just wouldn't be the same.

The workload means that he's not been able to drop in on Sam during the day as often as he'd like... But there's something else stopping him as well. The fear that resides somewhere in the depths of his stomach. Words echo through his memories, making him question things he'd rather not think about.

"What, you a poof or something?!"

No... Best to try and keep up appearances. People will question if he keeps disappearing.

By Friday, when he walks through his front door, he's knackered. Trudging up the hallway, he calls out lazily - Sam's probably in the lounge.*

Gonna order takeaway. I have to lift one more finger and I'll disintegrate right here.

What d'you want? Indian?
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Sam Tyler
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*When Gene returns, Sam is still asleep, his body demanding rest. However, with the constant turmoil in his mind, along with the fact that he didn't take painkillers when he should have, nightmares are beginning to take over. They're vivid, more so than they've been during the last few nights; Sam had always managed to stop himself from screaming or making any sort of noise, but he's too exhausted now, too worn down. And with the leaden exhaustion, despite being intense, the nightmares aren't enough to completely wake Sam just yet.

And so, the only response Gene gets is a low groan, followed by incoherent muttering, and then a quiet, scared cry*

... n-no....!

*Sam is twitching, moving where he's lying, head pressed into the cushions. Gene's arrival has only registered insofar as it has made his dreamworld shift - a door opening, harsh light flooding in, angry shouting, pain, pain, pain....*
Edited by Sam Tyler, Oct 23 2015, 03:19 PM.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's about to head straight into the kitchen to grab a drink but the lack of response from Sam makes him pause. And there, he can hear it - the soft sound from the lounge.

Sam... Somethings wrong.

Quietly, Gene turns into the lounge, eyes focused and fists clenched. But there's no intruder... Just Sam, lying asleep on the sofa. And the sounds he's making... Shit, it must be a nightmare.*

'Ey, Sam... Sam...

*leans down over him, placing one hand on Sam's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam inhales sharply when Gene touches him, flinching away - the touch fits in with his nightmare too perfectly.*

No, n-- no, no, don't--

*skin clammy with sweat, his eyes still closed, Sam turns, or tries to, at least; his movements are restricted and choppy, they resulting pain starting to tug at the edges of his awareness, but not quite enough yet to wake him.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene pauses again, his heart dropping at Sam's words. He thinks he's back there, doesn't he. Thinks he's being attacked.

Gene can't let him go through this again. Not even in a dream. He has to end this now.*

Oi!

*gives Sam a gentle but solid shake, raising his voice.*

Tyler, come on now! You're safe! Nothings gonna get you in 'ere, not on my watch! Okay? Wake up!
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Sam Tyler
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*It still isn't enough - the nightmare is strong, and Sam's body is demanding more sleep, keeping him down.

Sam's subconscious does register the sound of Gene's voice, however. Sam whimpers, shakes his head weakly, raises his good hand as if to fend off an invisible attacker, almost knocking it against Gene's chest in the process.*

No-- please--

*And then, his breath hitching, Sam's face distorted by anguish as a tear escapes his closed eyes-*

Gene--!
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Gene Hunt
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*Oh god... The tear... It knocks Gene's heart sideways. This is too heartbreaking... And then Sam gasps his name.
....

Jesus... Gene could swear his heart just cracked.

He needs to wake Sam up, and NOW.*

SAM!

*out of options, Gene takes Sam's face in his hands and leans in, shouting now.*

WAKE UP.
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Sam Tyler
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*That does the trick.

Sam gasps, his entire body jerking as his eyes fly open, staring up at Gene -

Not seeing him at all, with his mind still caught up in the nightmare, all he registers is a looming shape, someone grasping his face, no, no--

Sam opens his mouth--

And squeezes his eyes shut again, the scream being choked, coming out strangled and pathetic as the pain, unfiltered, amplified even, crashes down on him, consumes him. It leaves Sam breathless, writhing on the sofa, instinctively attempting to curl up and hide from the agony, even though there is no point. Gene's presence registers somewhere at the edge of his mind, though Sam still hasn't recognized him.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Shit.... Oh shit...! Sam can't see him, can't recognise him. And that cry - god, this is beyond Gene's control. He doesn't know what to do. Sam--!*

WHOAAAAA, Sam!! It's me! It's your Guv! Look!

*trying to be gentle but firm at the same time, Gene pulls Sam's face towards him, angling his head so that he has to look. Has to see him.*

Sam, look at me! LOOK at me!!
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Sam Tyler
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*There's something about Gene's tone of voice - his Guv-voice - that cuts through Sam's panic and the pain and right into his consciousness. He wrenches his eyes open, tears escaping and rolling down his face in the process, wetting Gene's hands.

Breathing hard, Sam blinks, and again, it's a blurred shape he sees, it's so much pain he feels, no, he doesn't want to look, he doesn't...

Sam blinks again, more tears dripping down, and finally, his vision clears somewhat, and he sees.*

*gasping, hardly able to get the words out*

Ge-- Gene--?

*But that's not possible, is it? How can Gene be here... he wasn't going to come...

With another choked groan, Sam tries to turn his head away again - this can't be real, it's too good to be real... Gene's hands on his face, no, it's a cruel trick his mind is playing on him...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Oh god... God, he's not equipped for this! Sam's crying! He's CRYING. And Gene has no idea how to deal with this! All he wants to do is hug him or wipe his tears away or whisper to him, but what if that freaks Sam out even more?? All he can do is keep Sam looking at him - make sure Sam's hearing him okay*

Yeah, it's me! It's me!

*can't help himself brushing Sam's damp fringe away from his forehead, soothing while keeping up the appearance of merely maintaining Sam's dignity*

You're safe... You're alright....
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