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Of Wolf and Man; Who let the dogs out, who, who, who?
Topic Started: Mar 12 2016, 06:14 PM (14,164 Views)
Gene Hunt
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*Being a werewolf isn't easy. And neither is being under the thumb of a werewolf hunter. Someone who knows your secret and is only just barely holding back from tracking you down and putting a silver bullet between your eyes for the one reason that you're more valuable to him alive than dead. At the moment, anyway. And it's not like the relationship isn't mutually beneficial in some way. Even though Gene despises taking the money, he has no choice. It's live and live well with all the information he needs or die and end up someone's throw rug.

It's been this way for years, between Warren and Gene. It's routine. And so far Gene's fairly sure Warren's the only one who knows. His colleagues don't. They only know that he's unavailable for evening drinks once a month because of "wife commitments", though none of them have been brave enough to point out that they haven't seen his missus in years. Sam definitely doesn't know. It'd blow his little mind,considering how he's already a little peculiar.

But of course, like he always does, here's Sam bloody Tyler - his best mate, his right hand, his deputy dog - putting all of this at risk. He doesn't know the specific nature of the danger he's putting them both in, how could he. And Warren would never DO anything about it, he knows that Warren needs Gene too much. Having a DCI at your beck and call is nothing to throw away just because of some uppity little twerp rocking the boat. Right?? *
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Gene Hunt
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*The crash throws Gene back to reality faster than a bullet. His eyes fly open and his body follows his heart, jumping towards the ceiling until he's sitting upright.

The light pierces his eyes, blinding him. But even through the disorientating adrenaline/sleep cocktail swimming in his brain Gene can feel the danger.

He can sense the figures surrounding the bed, the words echoing on repeat.

'little wolf'.

Oh no.... Please, no... *

How... Who are you!? What..!?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*There's a round of soft laughter as the men crowd in. One of them steps right up to Gene, leaning in slightly. Gene will recognise him - he's one of Warren's bouncers.*

We, Mr Hunt, are your worst nightmare.

*There's a knife in his hand - a special kind of knife. The kind you'd need to part skin from muscle, instead of just cutting.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Cold dread washes over Gene. It's like a freezing tidal wave has just engulfed him.

No... This can't.... He got so far... He got rid of Warren, he has Sam, he has a new place to change, this can't--!!

He swallows convulsively, leaning back and away from the man's face. But he's surrounded. However far he leans or scrambles he's going nowhere.

And that knife. It's so close.

Voice low and fearful, Gene gasps.*

I... I know you... Warren... He sent you?
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Sam Tyler
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*The man's grin widens.*

Bloody hell, you'd make a good detective.

*He stands up straight again, looking at his mates.*

That's right - Mr Warren sent us to finish what he started.

*He looks back at Gene, eyes glinting dangerously.*

And Mr Warren always gets what he wants. You of all people should know that.
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Gene Hunt
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*Fuck.

Fuck.

Gene scans each of their faces, trying to place them. Some he recognises, some he doesn't. But all of them terrify him. Completely bewildered and paralysed with numbing fear, Gene stutters.*

I... I'm a bloody human... I don't change for another week!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The man snorts.

"Tough. We've got a bone to pick."

And one of the others mutters "Several," which elicits some dirty laughs from the rest.

Warren's bouncer keeps staring at Gene, an almost hungry look on his face. "Nobody's gonna help you now. Not Joni, and not your little tart."*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's eyes widen. His head whips round to Sam's side of the bed.

He's not there. How did he not notice??

An intensity burning behind his eyes, Gene turns back to the leader.*

Where is he.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The leader looks very pleased with himself.

"Funny you should ask..."

He turns towards the door, raising a hand to his mouth and giving a short, sharp whistle.

Seconds later, there's shuffling outside - and then, another man enters the room, dragging Sam long with him. He's got him in a headlock, arm firmly clamped around Sam's neck, who is struggling, kicking his legs as he's pulled into the room, but to little avail. Blood is running down the side of his face, indicating that he was struck down before he was overpowered.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene watches in horror as Sam is dragged in, blood on the side of his face. He must have gone down for water and bumped into them as they broke in.

Jesus Christ, what the hell are they going to do?? They're trapped, they're completely cornered.

Desperation starting to kick in, Gene holds up his hands and starts to try and maneuver himself up onto his knees. If he can find a moment to charge them....! He needs to distract them. Try to persuade them to let Sam go!*

Right... Look... Here's a deal, okay? You just... Let him go... And I'll do whatever you want. I won't fight. You're doing this for Warren, right?

*Gene scrabbles for bargaining chips - he needs to try and speak in their language. Appeal to their shallow priorities.*

You let Tyler go and I'll make your job easy. I'll lie here and you'll hardly have to lift a finger... Easy money, yeah? Don't make extra work for yourself. Cleaning up after one's easier than two!

*He's garbling and he knows it. But this can't happen. He's had a target on him since he first changed and he was an idiot to think the locking Warren up would change anything. But Sam... He can still save Sam...!*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The leader glances back at Gene, his expression changing from cocksure giddiness to something like contemplation.

"Easy money? Hm... Thing is, Mr Warren isn't well pleased with how much your little tart 'ere's interfered. Feels he needs to be put in 'is place."

Sam chokes against the pressure around his neck, horrified by what he's hearing, fingers scrabbling and scratching at the man's arm in a desperate but futile attempt to break free - or at least be able to breathe properly....!

"... and 'e did kill Charlie."

Here, the leader's look turns dark, and the others nod, murmuring affirmatively. This seems like a bit of a personal beef...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene flicks his eyes up to Sam's, expression open and frightened to those who know what to look for. But his mouth is tense, forming a thin and rigid line. What else can he say?? God, his heart's going to beat all the way through his chest.*

Still... All that extra clean up time? Scrubbing the floors, getting your clothes bleached? You could be down the pub with a pint instead. Celebrate a job well done. Sounds better, eh, lads? Yeah? You just let him walk and I'll even give you the beer money meself.

*He swallows, the atmosphere thick and heavy. Gene's almost scared to breathe too deeply in case he triggers something catastrophic.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam returns that gaze, his own panicked and unsteady. He's barely able to breathe as is, and now Gene is offering himself up like that, offering to let himself be killed quickly and quietly, and it can't happen like that--!

The leader raises a hand to his face, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. Gene's words do have a certain appeal...

... or so he wants Gene to think.

He breaks the silence with a short bark of a laugh.

"Sorry, Hunt, but no can do. No fun in that."

And he looks over at the man holding onto Sam, giving him his sign.*
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Gene Hunt
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*The man holding Sam nods, tightening his grip on Sam's throat. Without hesitation he reaches into his belt and pulls out a knife, raising it high and stabbing it downwards into Sam's stomach.

A sound escapes Gene's mouth. A gasp, like his soul is being wrenched from his body.*

SAM!!
Edited by Gene Hunt, Apr 1 2017, 09:33 PM.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam doesn't even have time to process what's happening before the knife plunges into him. He gives a choked-off, wet gasp, doubling over as far as the man's grasp allows. A jerky breath, another, then he coughs, blood spilling over his lips.

Somehow, he manages to raise his gaze, his eyes wide with shock as they lock on Gene.

This... this wasn't supposed to happen....?! Sam's lips move, but it's just more blood that leaves his mouth. No words.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene can't move. He's frozen to the spot. This can't be the end... It can't end like this... They overcame this, they got OUT of that dungeon, they recovered! And now--??

Oh God, Sam...

The man holding Sam, thoroughly convinced that he's well and truly wounded the man beyond fight, lets go of his neck, allowing him to fall to the floor.

Body numb with fear and grief, Gene follows Sam's body with his eyes, his own trying to follow instinctively - to catch Sam or steady his fall - to stem the bleeding or drag him outside, to the car, to the hospital! Gene leaps onto his hands and knees, scrambling to the edge of the bed and trying to get to Sam's side.*

SAM! Hold on!!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Gene doesn't get far. Two men grab hold of him, holding him back before he's able to get up and off the bed - on set of hands clamping down on his arms, the other around his chest.

Sam's body hits the floor where he convulses with a sickening groan, more blood spilling from his mouth. And yet, at Gene's shout, he tries to move, to push himself up even, though he lacks the strength to really get anywhere. The men closest to Sam have stepped back, not wanting to get any of the blood on their shoes just yet.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene struggles with all his might, his teeth gritted so hard it's painful. Every fibre of his being determined to get to Sam's side. But the mattress is unstable, his body not yet fully recovered, lacking the strength to fight.

This can't be happening... Not here, not like this... There must still be a chance to get Sam help! He might still live! If he can just get them to call an ambulance!

It can't be over yet!*

Please... Please just... Take him outside, call an ambulance... Please!

*He's pleading. It's all he can do. The blood has drained from his face, his eyes burn trying to hold back tears. This is his fault, it's all his fault!*

Just save 'im, I'll give you everything I bloody have!

*the man who dropped Sam looks down, sees Sam still writhing, still alive.

The boss waves his hand, unaffected by Gene's pleas. They've already started now, the gun' s been fired.

At the signal, the man holding the blood covered knife steps over Sam and kicks him onto his back. He kneels, raising the knife once more and shanking it down into the centre of Sam's chest.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Another choked-off gasp escapes Sam as the kick connects, as he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. From somewhere far off, he can hear Gene's voice, desperate, pleading, but he can't see, there's just the wallpaper, the light, and his vision narrowing at an alarming rate...

And then, the shape appearing over him, something glinting...

Sharp pain, piercing his very core. Sam chokes, sounding almost startled, as his back arches slightly with the force of the stab.

And then nothing.

Sam's body goes limp, his eyes sightless as his head slumps to the side, facing Gene.*
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Gene Hunt
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No....

*Still pressing against the hands holding him, Gene stares at the body on the ground, empty. Sam... There's no coming back from that...

He's gone... Sam's gone.

Gene's alone... And because of him, his partner's dead.

His best friend. His Sam...

In a whisper, Gene croaks,*

.... You... How could...
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Even as Gene stares at the dead body of his partner, the men make their move. The two where holding onto Gene force him back, paying no attention to his grief. They need him flat on his back.

The leader, meanwhile, gives a light shrug.

"Made for a good show.*

Then, his gaze turns dark.

"It's your turn next, wolf."*
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Gene Hunt
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*slowly, as he finds himself being pulled back and away from Sam, the deep pit of painful grief begins to churn. How dare they. How dare they do this to them both!? And how dare they pull him away!? He needs to be with SAM.

With renewed strength, Gene rips his arms away from the grip holding them. He refuses to let them win. He's going to make them pay!

Eyes locked onto the leader with a firey rage, Gene tries to launch himself at the man. He's going to kill him. Hurt him. Make him suffer as Sam did!*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The men weren't prepared for Gene's sudden, fierce resistance. One of them manages to still hold onto Gene's arm, but the other loses his grasp.

However, their leader is quick to react. He catches Gene's wrist in an iron-like grip, eyes blazing. He shoves, wrestling Gene back down, pinning his hand down to the mattress. At the same time the man whips a small knife out with his other hand, and before Gene has a chance to react he drives it into the palm of Gene's hand, pinning it in place.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene yells in shock as the knife hits home, embedding deep into the mattress and pinning his hand there. He grits his teeth against the pain, trying to shove his other arm up to grab onto the man's shirt front. There's nothing to lose now. Nothing more he can offer them. All he can do is desperately try to hurt them even a fraction of the amount they've hurt him. Even if he kills himself trying.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The other man still maintains his grip on Gene's other arm - just. But that doesn't matter to the boss, who's gleefully taking his cue. If Gene wants to keep fighting, all the better.

He produces another knife from his belt, then grabs Gene's free wrist to hold it down as well. One swift motion, and the blade pierces Gene's other palm.

A little breathlessly, the man hisses, "You're almost making this worth our while...!"*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene screams again. This time out of absolute frustration as well as pain. He tugs on his hands but the blades are serated, caught deep in the compact padding underneath, and every little motion feels like plunging his hands into boiling oil. Hanging onto the last little piece of fight he still has left, Gene shouts loudly, chest heaving.*

You useless bags of shit!! He'll screw you over too eventually! You'll end up just like me! You're just too frigging blind and stupid to see it!!

*He yanks again, but to no avail. All he achieves in doing is tearing further into his damaged hands, the blood already running through his fingers and into the mattress*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*That earns Gene a few laughs, but nothing more.

The men crowd in again, stepping over Sam's body in the process. Knives are being drawn, sharpened, raised.

The leader grins. "Keeping barking, dog. It's the last thing you'll ever do."

Even as he speaks, his mates set to work. Much like Warren had done, they start by cutting away Gene's pyjama shirt. Then the bandages, ripping them off with next to now care, revealing the healing cuts underneath. One of the men whistles lowly through his teeth.

"Fine workmanship, that. Poof knows what he's doing, gotta give 'I'm that."*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene breathes in heaved half-sobs. He can't believe this is happening again. He's pinned like a butterfly, held in place ready for the slaughter. It's just like before, but this time there's no way out. It's all happening so fast, there's no time to breathe.*

Poof, eh? Then what does that make you, following his every order like a bunch of swooning housemaids! Your dicks must be the size of wilted peanuts, eh! You want to act like men, fight me one-on-one!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*That earns Gene a back-handed slap across his face. Moments later, a hand buries itself in his hair and wrenches his head back, and the boss growls, "Says the bloke screwing 'is own DI! Don't think we haven't been watching you - disgusting, the stuff you get up to..."

He pauses, an ugly grin showing on his face. "Well, not anymore, eh. Y'both got what you deserved."

Not taking his eyes off Gene, he extends one hand to his men. It's only a moment before he's handed a large, scalpel-like knife. He takes it and holds it in front of Gene's eyes, forcing him to look at it.

"Any last words, wolfie?"
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's breaths come in ragged, angry gasps as he looks at the knife in front of him. Last words... Last words don't matter now, do they. Sam's gone. He'll never get to tell him...

Gene feels a stab of painful grief and he pulls on his hands again, a pained grunt emitting from his chest. And with utter loathing, Gene hisses at the man.*

Go to hell, you piece of shit.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The leader scoffs, entirely unimpressed. He's been called worse.

Without hesitation, and without any kind of warning for Gene, he lowers the knife and presses down. This is human skin they're dealing with, not tough wolf skin, so a bit of care has to be deployed... They don't want to kill the man straight away after all.

Then want to hear him scream.

The knife breaks skin, digs deeper. Then, it begins to pull down, reopening the cut down Gene's front that had only just begun to really close up, easily tearing through the thread holding the skin together. Blood wells up in the knife's wake.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene isn't prepared for this. The feeling of the knife carving so easily through the thickened scar tissue down his front. Each thread breaking feels like a guitar string snapping, the thread pulling and then springing back, cut in two.

A strangled sound forces its way out of him, between his clenched teeth, biting down hard on his tongue to stop from screaming. His fingers clench, new blood flooding from within his clenched fists, the hilt of the knives stopping him from digging his nails into his palms.

This is it. They're going to finish what we Warren started. Everything leading up to this has been for nothing. All that hard recovery, the pain, the humiliation - it's all being undone. He healed this far only to be filleted again, the torture repeated.

Everything he'd been working towards as well... It's all gone. Everything with Sam... Their future together... Everything's been snuffed out. Everything he ever was or would be. He's been reduced down to his skin once again.

As this realisation hits him, Gene can't help a yell. A yell of pain, both physical and emotional.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Gene's screams are in vain - if anything, they spur the men on. The knife follows the exact lines Warren carved before, the man dragging it down slow enough for Gene to really feel it. Down his front, then the short cuts from the middle of his chest up to his shoulders.

Once that's done, the man pauses for effect, observing his work so far. The bleeding cuts, already painting Gene in red... and that's just the beginning.

"This might hurt a bit," he says, his voice dripping with mock-sympathy.

Then he reaches down to the point where all three cuts meet... brings the knife in position...

... and begins to peel away the skin. Slowly. Ever so slowly.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene cries out as the pain overwhelms him, his body shaking. Spots and lights burst behind his eyelids as he screws them shut in an attempt to block out the world. But then there's a pause. And then the pain starts again, more intense than before. And it's different. It's not just the stab of a knife, it's... It's a tugging sensation...

Hands still secured to the bed at either side of his head, Gene tilts his neck and cranes, trying to get a look at what exactly is happening. And the sight that greets him makes him feel sick.

The man is slicing and pulling his skin away.

This is it. It's happening. This is how he's going to die. Of shock or blood loss. Slowly.

Horrified and paralysed with the inevitably of his own gruesome demise, Gene can't take his eyes away.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*At this point, two of the men grab him again, holding him down in addition to the knives. This is precision work - if Gene moves too much, they'll end up tearing the skin. So they hold him down by his shoulders, and two more grab his legs as their leader continues his gruesome work.

Soon, half of Gene's rib cage is exposed. And still the man pulls, separating skin from muscles, sinews...*
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Gene Hunt
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*As he's pushed back down, Gene presses his head back against the pillows, straining to keep himself from passing out. His body is shaking hard, his exposed ribs pumping, his breath gasping. The pain has overtaken him now. Engulfed him to the point where he can almost barely feel what's happening.

The image stays emblazoned in Gene's mind, his own insides... His ribs, the blood... It's like he's being stripped down to his core... Disassembled bit by bit.

As he feels the tug begin to move lower towards his abdomen, a new fresh wave of agony hits him. The last of his ribcage pops from the confines of his outer layers.

He's going to be sick. Or is he just going to fade into nothing? Is he even alive any more? Please, just let him die...

A pitiful, ragged sound gasps its way from his throat. A mangled hybrid of a scream and a sob. A death knell.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam is on his way up the stairs when he hears that horrible sound. A sound filled with pain, with despair, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end and sending a shiver down his spine.

Gene.

Sam runs the last few steps, trying to be as fast as he can without spilling any of the water. He rips the door open and flicks the light switch - and is greeted with a heart-wrenching sight. Gene has managed to kick the duvet off entirely, his body twisted slightly, his pale face pulled into an expression of utter agony. Sam feels himself reminded of that first nightmare, so many weeks ago...

... but this looks worse. Jesus, how-- Sam only went down to get some water, he was gone for less than 5 minutes...!?

He closes the distance between the door and the bed with just a few quick steps, putting the glass down on Gene's nightstand before placing his hands on either side of Gene's face.*

Gene! Gene, wake up, you're dreaming...!
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Gene Hunt
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*Hands on him, hands holding him down, hands pulling pieces of him away, hands inside his body...!

And then hands on his face. His name being called.

It vaguely registers that one of them is close enough to grab. If his arms weren't pinned down, hands useless...!

His breath hitches.

What does it matter? If he's dead already, what does it matter if his hands are torn in two?

Uncoordinated and desperate, Gene puts all his remaining strength into one last action. The world is spinning around him, everything covered in blood... If he can just...

He rips his hand from the bed, the knife sawing up between his fingers and cleaving his palm in two. Somehow along the way he makes a fist. And it collides with something.

The sound of that, the feel of it - it triggers something. The world tilts, snaps. And suddenly Gene's sat up in his bed, staring wide eyed at the familiar figure he's just struck.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam is so focused on Gene's face that he doesn't see the fist coming. It connects with a thud and a crack, and Sam cries out in surprise as he stumbles away, pain blooming on his face. Moments later, something wet and warm drips down from his nose.

Sam catches himself on the bed, bent over the mattress as he presses his other hand to his bleeding nose. There's more movement next to him and his head snaps up - which means he comes face to face with Gene.

Gene, who's staring at him with large, disoriented eyes. Sam stares back, just as wide-eyed, breathing hard through his mouth and feeling his heart beat painfully fast in his rib cage.

Is this... did Gene wake up...?!*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene stays frozen for a moment, his brain refusing to process anything around him. Sam's bloody face is in front of him.

This is his mind taunting him. Showing him what he's done. What he deserves to see.

Then he remembers. The shakes start again, his head whipping around, eyes searching the room. The men are gone... Hiding? Or did they leave?? Panicked, Gene looks down at himself, hands clasping at his open chest, the bare muscle showing there. He has to stem the bleeding! But the only pain he feels seems to be coming from his overworking lungs. One fist. He raises it, expecting to see his fingers hanging off and the bones exposed... But all he sees are slightly pink knuckles.

What the... What the hell..??*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam watches with wide eyes as Gene comes to life, starts to pat himself down, examines his own hand, all the while breathing so hard he's nearly hyperventilating... God. Whatever he was dreaming (and Sam has half an idea what it probably was about), it must have been... intense...

Remembering his own disorientation after that horrible nightmare a week ago, Sam forces himself to move slowly. It takes him a few breaths to be able to utter words, his voice sounding slightly muffled because of his hand nearly covering his mouth.*

... Gene... Gene, you're alright, you... you must've 'ad a nightmare...

It's... it's Sam, alright...? Just me... no one else. Just... Sam.

*Speaking isn't easy - his face is pulsing with pain, and moving his mouth isn't exactly helping; not to mention that his hand is already covered in blood, more of it dripping down his chin, onto his vest...

But none of that matters - not until he can be sure that Gene is back with him...!*
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's speaking to him, telling him he's okay, he was just dreaming - but he's not, is he! Sam's the dream, Sam's dead! His ribs are exposed, he's bleeding! He's been cut open, his skin... It's been...

His hands grab onto the skin hanging from his body, desperately trying to get it to stick back. To reattach. But it isn't wet and slick with blood... It's dry. And there are buttons on it...

Voice cracking with confusion and distress, Gene looks at Sam again. He doesn't understand... *

Help me...

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Sam Tyler
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*"Help me...."

Sam's heart breaks. His instincts are telling him to keep his distance, in case Gene lashes out again, but he ignores them. Considering everything Gene went through, put together with those odd motions, it isn't hard to guess what that nightmare was about... and Sam needs to pull him out of it. Now.*

O-okay, okay... okay. I'll help you. Just... don't panic...

*Carefully, Sam moves forward, muscles tense as his body anticipates another punch. But... it doesn't come. Instead, Sam ends up sat on the edge of the bed next to Gene. Once again, he reaches out, placing his un-bloodied palm on Gene's cheek.

His voice a little unsteady, Sam says*

... look at me, Gene.
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Gene Hunt
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*Still trying to hold his skin in place and his body together, Gene obeys. He does look at Sam. Sees the blood. Knows he isn't real. He's still bleeding. And if Gene looks down he'll see that knife still embedded in his partner's chest. God knows how he's sat there now like he's alive... Gene must be unconscious right now... Maybe this is it. Maybe this is some kind of bizarre afterlife. Maybe he's still pinned to the bed, the last of his skin being peeled from him right now. He's just too far gone to realise it.

Hands still holding his shirt front tightly across himself, Gene whispers.*

You're dead.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam flinches, the finality of Gene's words hitting an unexpectedly painful spot. He sounds so sure... He's still submerged in this horrible fantasy. Sam needs to get him out of there... But he can't do that unless he knows what Gene saw, unless he's able to make him realise without a doubt that whatever he experienced wasn't real...!

Forcing himself to remain calm, to keep up the touch and eye-contact (and to ignore the blood dripping onto his lips and into his mouth), Sam quietly says*

... is that what happened?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene shakes his head in disbelief. How can Sam not know!? He saw it, the Knife in his stomach. Then his chest. Sam saw it, he knew what was happening.

And he's still bleeding.

Gene closes his eyes and drops his head slightly, tilting his face down and away from Sam.*

They k-killed you.

You're...

*shakily and with a hand he still can't believe is in one piece, Gene points to the floor at the end of the bed. The place Sam's body's hidden from view.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*They? 'They' killed him...?

Sam glances to the spot Gene is pointing at - empty, of course - but his attention is quickly pulled back to the man himself. He's not looking at Sam anymore... Sam can't have that.*

Hey, hey. Look at me.

*Emphasising his own words, Sam presses his hand against Gene's cheek more firmly, then lets it slide down a little so that he's able to tilt Gene's head towards himself again. He needs Gene to look, to really see...!

He also realises that the blood on his own face must be playing into what Gene's mind is trying to convince him of... Shit. But he needs to unravel this bit by bit - it's obvious that Gene won't just believe him if he said it was Gene himself who punched Sam...!*

How did they... kill me?

*It's not exactly something Sam wants to know, but his top priority right now is to get Gene out of this... Stop him from hurting, from being so distressed...*
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Gene Hunt
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*a new look of conflict spreads across Gene's face. Why is Sam making him go over it again?*

They... Stabbed you... You saw it. Twice.

*Gene frowns, unable to settle. Those goons of Warren's could still be in the house... And how has he not died of shock yet? How hasn't he bled out?*
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Sam Tyler
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*Stabbed him... Sam swallows. So they had knives... this only further confirms his suspicion of what happened in Gene's dream. The thought squeezes Sam's heart painfully - things had been going so well... and Gene seemed genuinely thrilled earlier about having a new, comfortable place to change, and being able to eat properly again...!

He knows that he should keep pressing Gene, but Sam just can't do it. He needs to pull his partner out of this.*

Gene-- no one stabbed me.

*Sam takes a breath, willing his voice to be firm.*

Look at me.

*He's still pressing one hand to his nose, so that probably isn't helping...! But still, Sam backs away slightly, while still maintaining the touch, so that Gene can see his upper body.*

No stabs. See? I'm okay.

... relatively.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene stares at Sam's torso, unable to believe it. It does indeed look free of holes - but there are blood spots on his shirt... And on his face, dripping from beneath his hand... *

... But.... The blood...
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam almost snorts - but stops himself just in time to prevent a proper gush of blood.*

That's because you punched me, when you woke up.

*He lifts his hand away from his face, just enough to reveal the bloody nose.*

See? S'just that. Upper cut à la Hunt. Could be worse.

*Maybe the slightly lighter tone will help... God, he just wants Gene to realise, to stop him being so panicked...! His face is pale, his eyes wild and filled with fear and other emotions Sam can't quite decipher yet...*
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Gene Hunt
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*He what? Again, Gene swallows and looks down at his hand. His knuckles do throb a bit... And it is Sam's nose that's bleeding...

Maybe...

Gene looks down at his front again, at the pyjama top pressed to his chest by his other (uninjured) hand.

Where did all that blood go? He could see it, the muscle and bone, the skin ripped clear off. He remembers the pain, the sensation of the knife slicing through and under his skin... But the evidence is gone... *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam can't tell if he's getting through to Gene... and it scares him a bit. He does remember how hard he found it to return to reality, but being on the other side of it is something else. And the way Gene is looking down his abdomen again...

Sam pulls his hand back from Gene's cheek, only to gently lay it on Gene's hand, fisted into the fabric of his pyjama top.*

Gene... you're okay. It's just you, and me. All on our own. And you'll have your stitches removed tomorrow. Remember? That means you're almost back to normal. Good as new.

*Sam feels that he's rambling slightly, but hell, what else can he do? He needs to somehow convince Gene that he's fine, uninjured... that it was nothing but a terrible nightmare, whatever he saw...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Then... None of that happened? Despite the fact that he saw it? Felt it? It was too real... It happened in his bedroom for God's sake...

Not quite believing Sam, Gene shakily unbuttons the first three buttons of his rumpled shirt and pulls the edges apart, exposing the very intact scar running down from his collarbones.

It's sealed. No blood.

Gene touches the scar, just to make sure. And sure enough, his fingers make contact with warm skin rather than wet, painful wounds.

He murmurs under his breath.*

... I thought...

*His hands drop, the shirt falling from his fingers. It really was a dream, then... Just a dream. Almost daze-like, Gene stares down at his hands. He saw knives in those hands...*

......
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Oh thank God... looks like Sam got through to him... But the way Gene is now staring at his hands, a dazed look on his face, isn't exactly reassuring. It makes Sam reach out again, his hand on Gene's chin now, trying to coax him to look back up at Sam.*

... I know. But it wasn't real.

*Those words coming from himself feel odd, and Sam knows there's something ironic about him being the one having to convince Gene... but it doesn't matter right now, not really. What matters is that Gene is back with him, that he's stopped panicking.*

Just a bad dream.
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Gene Hunt
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*Just a dream... Just a dream...

It doesn't feel like that, but it must have been.

He went through all of that... Felt everything. Almost passed out from pain and fear... But he's okay... He's okay... And Sam's okay...

His hands rise up to his chest once more, covering his scar protectively. He can't unsee it... His chest, skinless. He can't unfeel it, the agonising pulling, tugging, slicing... And the fact that it never happened doesn't erase what he went through just now. The end of Warren's mission, followed through til the end. How he'd always expected to go out. And now, it could happen all over again. If Warren's men can find him in his sleep, they could surely find him here, in his own house.

Something rises up his throat, his eyes burn... And a sob hiccups from his mouth. Tears spill over and his face crumples, overwhelmed.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Just as Sam thinks that finally Gene has calmed down, that he'll just... relax and let Sam embrace him... that sob. And Gene's face contorting.

And the tears.

Sam's eyes widen as his chest constricts painfully at the sight. Gene, he... God...!

Before he knows it, Sam's arms have wound themselves around Gene, pulling him close, his nosebleed forgotten. All that matters now is to help Gene through this... make him feel safe, make him realise that everything is okay, that Sam's here, that it's alright...!*

H-hey... you're alright, Gene, y-you're alright...
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene leans into Sam, his hands caught between the both of them, fingers still digging into his own skin as if to make sure it stays there. The sobs don't stop. They intensify. Everything he'd been holding back since Warren first threatened him, it's all flooding upwards and out. Every moment of fear, every moment of pain. He'd been doing so well at keeping it in, but the gates are open now. He can't stop.

Things were good. Things had been improving. But everything is cycling through his head at a million miles an hour now. And his next transformation is in a week. There's no time to process this.

As if in answer to Sam's encouragements, Gene shakes his head.

He's not alright. And he's scared he'll never be. Not with this axe hanging over his head. It'll drop one day, he can't stop it.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*.............. oh.................

Sam's already been struggling to keep his composure, but as Gene shows no sign of calming down, as he shakes his head... Sam's own eyes begin to burn.

Jesus, this... how intense must this dream have been to trigger a reaction like this...?!

Fighting to keep his own tears at bay, all Sam can do is hold onto Gene as tightly as he can. Provide him with support, with safety.

Let him cry. Let it all out. If Gene needs to cry, Sam is the last person to deny him that.

So Sam keeps holding him, hands flat against his back, the side of his face pressed against the side of Gene's. Words fail him - and really, what could he possibly say? There's nothing that comes to his mind that wouldn't belittle Gene's experience. So Sam remains silent.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene cries and cries, holding his chest and sobbing into Sam's shoulder. He doesn't know how long it goes on, but by the time his tears run dry his lungs burn with overexertion and his cheeks feel sore from the damp. The sobs become dry hiccups and the trembling of his body calms. But he doesn't pull away, not just yet.

Eventually, after a few more minutes, his hands relax and slide down, coming to rest in his lap. He exhales slowly, sniffing and pulling away reluctantly. His eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks tearstained. God he feels a mess. Tired and trembly, emotionally wrecked.

And now he can add 'embarrassed' to that list. How's he ever going to live this outburst down?*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam can't tell how much time passes, but at some point, Gene seems to finally start to calm down... and then he begins to pull back. Sam is just as reluctant to let Gene go - he seems so... fragile, at the moment. It's not a word Sam would ever have thought he'd use to describe Gene Hunt, but the way he's sitting in front of him, his face tear-streaked and pale save for the flecks of red around his eyes... it's the only word that comes to mind.

A few tears have found their way down his own cheeks as well, but Sam couldn't care less about that right now. Knowing Gene, he thinks he manages to judge the look on his face right - he's scared of Sam's reaction to this.... meltdown. And Sam can't have that.

Once more, his hands come up to cradle Gene's face, thumbs wiping gently at Gene's cheeks. Sam's voice is rough as he whispers*

... I've got you.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene barely moves as Sam wipes his tears away. He just wants the world to swallow him up. To put things back to how they were just a few short hours ago.

"I've got you..."

Gene doesn't deserve this. Sam died because of him. He saw it. It didn't happen, but he saw it.

Voice raw and cracked, Gene croaks out all he can, gesturing at the dried blood smeared across Sam's chin.*

M'sorry... 'bout the n-nose.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam snorts, caught between sudden amusement and helpless exasperation, and shakes his head.*

No harm done.

*He continues to wipe at Gene's tears - it would be more efficient to get a tissue, but he doesn't want to let go of Gene... not when he looks like he might shatter any moment. The desire to kiss Gene is almost overwhelming - to show him that everything is still the way it was, no matter what he dreamed - but with what he most likely saw, Sam doesn't want to bring him in contact with his own blood any more than necessary...

So, carefully and keeping his hands where they are, gently keeping Gene's focus on him, Sam says*

... listen, uhm - how about we both get cleaned up and head downstairs for a brew?

*Sam is going to have to change the sheets - he's already spotted blood stains on them - and Gene could probably do with something hot and soothing, along with a change of scenery...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Downstairs... In Gene's mind, the place must be smashed up. A window broken or a door kicked in. There must be blood on the floor, from where Warren's men attacked Sam. But from the sound of it none of that happened. It's hard to believe.

So he swallows and nods.*

Yeah...yeah, alright.

*it'll do him good, to get out of this room for a moment. He can still see it - Sam's body dropping beyond the foot of the bed. He can feel the mattress under him, the same firmness and texture that he was pinned to. Yeah, getting out of here might be good.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam nods as well, trying not to show just how relieved he is by Gene agreeing.*

Okay. Up you go then...

*He gets up to his feet first, keeping a hand on Gene's shoulder all the while - something like an earthquake or a lightning strike would have to happen for him to let go of Gene right now. Once Sam is stood up, he offers his arm to Gene, to help him stand up as well.

Then he notices the glass he left on the nightstand, forgotten up until now.*

Oh, there's some water here, if you want it...

*With the amount Gene cried just now, a bit of hydration would probably be good for him...*
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Gene Hunt
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*groggy and unsteady, Gene uses Sam's arm to help manoeuvre himself up. It still feels like he's in a dream - like he can't quite believe what he's seeing in front of him. Like he'll wake up any second and find himself stabbed to the bed again, his insides exposed and visible. Or maybe he's really dead and this is just what he wished had happened - Sam coming back to life.

But with no other way of telling, Gene has to go along with it and trust Sam's right.

He takes a sip of the water, handing it back to Sam afterwards. He can't tell if he's thirsty or not, but he supposes he must be.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam watches Gene move about with a mix of relief and intense worry. It's good that he's willing to get up, that he even has the strength... but at the same time, Gene looks like a ghost. Like he can't quite believe that what he's experiencing right now is real. It's strange to be on the other side of this - he can't imagine what he must have looked like to Gene a week ago... but if it was anything like this, Sam feels he'll have to apologise to Gene again for making him worry so much.

Right now, though, he takes the glass off Gene and places it back on the nightstand, wrapping his arm around his partner afterwards.*

Okay, bathroom first. Let's sort out your face... and mine.

*Even with how focused he is on Gene right now, Sam is quite eager to get that coppery taste out of his mouth, and the caked blood off his face... and the sooner that happens, the sooner Gene will hopefully be more convinced that he's back in the real world.

So he gently starts to lead him out of the room, and over to the bathroom.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene walks with Sam to the bathroom, hanging back a little as they actually enter the room. He assumes Sam's going to try to wipe that blood off his face. And he's still not convinced it'll actually come off. What if it doesn't come off? If Sam's doomed to be bloodstained forever... If this is the real dream...

He looks down at himself again, at the crumpled pyjamas covering his front. There's a compulsion there to wash himself off too. To wipe the blood away from his own cuts - but of course there's no blood there at all. There hasn't been for weeks. But still, it could be there, underneath the fabric... *
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam can tell that Gene is hesitant to actually enter the bathroom, and he can't quite tell why... but hopefully he'll perk up a little once they've both had a bit of a wash... He helps Gene sit down on the side of the bathtub for now.*

Right, let me just deal with this... we've seen enough blood to last us a lifetime, eh.

*He knows the joke will fall flat, but Sam still can't help but make it. Anything to elicit some kind of response from Gene, who still looks so... distant... like he's still half caught in that nightmare. The sight makes Sam's heart ache.

He straightens up now, quickly stripping off his bloodstained vest and dropping it into the bathtub, his chest and abdomen well visible to Gene in the process.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's joke doesn't affect Gene - he's not concentrating on Sam's words enough to really understand the underlying humour in it.

Instead, Gene's eyes are trained on Sam's abdomen. As the bloodied vest drops into the bath, it's clear as day - Sam's skin is smooth and unhurt. Free of wounds, free of blood. Same with his chest. The sight sends a shiver of relief through him, a lump rising in his throat.

He takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly. Sam's alive. He's really alive. *
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Gene's silence might have worried Sam even more than it already does, if his senses weren't already completely focused on his partner. He doesn't miss Gene's gaze, trained at Sam's torso, nor the sigh of what Sam thinks is relief.

Christ... He really still thought that...

Somewhat at a loss, Sam hesitates, caught in Gene's expression. Then, carefully and half convinced he's making a mistake, he follows his impulse to take Gene's hand and place it on his own bare chest, just above the heart.

Very conscious of the fact that they've been through a similar scene before, Sam quietly says*

... Feel that?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene doesn't resist as Sam guides his hand up and lays it over his chest, the contact welcome and familiar - and he feels it. The heartbeat, strong and steady. The life coursing through his partner, electrifying and warm.

It's real.

Gene forces himself to focus. To try and believe what he's seeing in front of him.*

Yeah... Yeah, I feel it.

*tellingly, he looks down at himself again. Still blood-free, still dry. No horrific view of exposed muscle and bone.

He sighs again, deflating. God, he's a mess. He's such a fool.*

... Jesus, I'm sorry.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Finally... Finally. Sam got through to Gene. His relief shows in a quick smile as he shakes his head.*

Don't be silly.

*He knows he should get a move on and clean his face, but Sam can't resist the temptation to press a quick, heartfelt kiss to the top of Gene's head.*

Now, just give me a minute...

*He turns to the sink, not bothering to look at himself in the mirror as he turns on the cold water and starts to rinse off the blood immediately. A few fresh droplets come out, but the cold water does a good job of quickly stemming the bleeding; however, Sam winces as he touches his nose and the area around it, even soft pressure causing a dull kind of pain.

When he looks up and probes at his nose in the mirror, Sam is relieved to see that it isn't broken... But Gene's punch will definitely leave a bruise. It's already forming, red and purple splodges standing out against the slight pallor of the rest of his skin.

Sam finally reaches for the towel and gingerly dries his face, before turning back to Gene.*

Your turn.

*He's already reaching out, ready to help Gene up...*
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*Gene grimaces at the pain Sam's face is clearly causing him. Shit, he must have really hit out hard. Not surprising really, when he thinks about how his hands had been stabbed down. He'd been fully prepared to rip his hand in two with the force he'd put behind that.

At the 'your turn', Gene isn't exactly what Sam means. The blood is gone from Sam's face, but Gene himself, he assumes, is remarkably clean considering a moment ago he'd been spilling his lifeblood all over the sheets.

But slowly it dawns on him that Sam had hugged him so tightly... He's bound to have some of his blood on him somewhere. And his eyes feel raw and scratchy from crying.

He takes Sam's hand and stands, still not trusting himself to say anything without his voice quivering pathetically*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Once again, Sam becomes aware of how unnerving Gene's silence is. It just isn't right... For him to look so timid, so fragile... It hurts Sam's heart. Gene doesn't even seem to really know what he's supposed to do...

So, as he places his palm against the base of Gene's neck and rubs at it gently with his thumb, Sam murmurs*

Let's get rid of your shirt, eh? And then you can stick your head in the water... M'sure it'll do you a world of good.
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*his shirt... Right...

Gene grunts in agreement and starts unbuttoning the rest of his pyjama shirt. The feeling of the fabric touching and brushing across his front makes him wince - like he can feel fingers ghosting across him ready to tear him apart again. But it's not real, he has to keep reminding himself. It's not skin hanging off him, only fabric.

He shrugs the material off himself, the shirt sliding from his back.

Experimentally, Gene touches that point between his collarbones again. Just to make sure. And sure enough, he's still healed. No cut threads, no blood. Just sensitive scar tissue and embedded stitches. Looks like he really isn't going to wake up back on that bed then...

Taking a breath, Gene steps towards the sink and flips the cold water on, taking two handfuls and leaning over to splash it over his face.

The sensation helps to bring him back. The short, sharp shock of the cold water rattles him out of that dream world properly, waking him up and soothing the hot scratchy feeling in his eyes. He gasps at the feeling and then repeats the move, scrubbing at his face with his hands. If he can just get these tears off his skin... The salty trails dried under his eyes, reduce the red puffiness and disguise the fact that he'd wept so openly, maybe he can just forget this.*
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*Sam stops short of helping Gene out of the shirt, but catches it before it can fall down to the floor. He discreetly checks it for blood while Gene is busy with his scars, both at the front and its back, but luckily the only spots he notices are those that must have come from his nose. So at least Gene didn't accidentally hurt himself...

Gene's gasp makes Sam flinch with alarm, but he catches himself immediately. He seems to be enjoying the sensation of cold water on his skin... And that's good. It must mean he's managing to further anchor himself in this reality.

While Gene scrubs at his face, Sam grabs a fresh towel, ready to hand it to his partner once he's done. His other hand is back between Gene's shoulders, just to show him that Sam is still here, that he hasn't vanished into thin air. Sam knows from experience that simple touches like this can make all the difference.*
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*Eyes stinging, Gene turns and gropes for the towel Sam offers, his hand clumsily landing on it. Despite his eyes feeling raw, he dries himself off roughly, still feeling the need to get clean, to scrub away the evidence anything even happened.

Eventually he lowers the towel and offers it back to Sam with a mumble.*

Cheers.

*he feels more alert now... But there's still that horrid flat feeling in his stomach. That feeling of doom slowly creeping up on him, just out of sight.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam gives Gene a little smile in response, though it's quickly replaced by a worried frown. It's unbearable, seeing his partner like this - shaken up, exhausted, scared... Sam wants to make it right... wants to get Gene from this morning back, when he'd been speechless out of happiness, instead of fear...

Needing to do something, Sam looks up and spots the bathrobe hanging on the inside of the bathroom door. He quickly removes it from its hook and offers it to Gene - he can't catch a cold on top of everything else...*

Wanna put this on? I'll grab a shirt as well, and then we can go downstairs...
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*fringe damp and hanging over his eyes limply, Gene stiffly pulls the dressing gown over his shoulders and wraps it around himself. Somehow he doesn't want to do it up properly - for now anything touching his scars feels too much like a threat. *

Yeah. Sounds good.
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*Sam can't help but notice that Gene isn't doing up the gown entirely. He doesn't completely understand why, but it makes him feel even more worried for Gene than he already is. That spark that's usually there is so completely gone...*

...okay.

*They exit the bathroom, and Sam very quickly moves into the bedroom, grabbing whichever shirt he can find fastest. Not even bothering to do up the buttons, he just makes sure to be by Gene's side again as quickly as he can. Then, one hand protectively placed at the small of Gene's back, Sam gently leads him down the stairs and into the kitchen, flicking all the lights on in the process. The more light there is, the less threatening his surroundings will hopefully feel to Gene...

Once they're in the kitchen, Sam stops, not wanting to let go of Gene, but not wanting to completely patronise him either.*

You sit yourself down, I'll put on the kettle. Alright?
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*Gene can feel Sam's hand on his back as they move. It's a welcome reminder that Sam is indeed real and solid, but it also makes him realise how worried Sam is, and that's something he regrets. He must have been making some noise, for Sam to hear him and come back upstairs so fast. Was he screaming in his sleep?

Pushing that thought down, Gene makes his way to the table and slumps down into a chair. It's odd, sitting at the table at this time of night... But right now everything Gene's experiencing feels a little off anyway.*

... You're gonna be exhausted tomorrow.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam watches Gene move over to the table with a mixture of relief and worry. The fact that he's taking any kind of initiative is good... But the way he slumps down causes Sam's heart to break a little bit further. They had been doing so well... Gene had been recovering amazingly, and now...!

Trying not to let his concern show all too much, Sam makes his way over to the kitchen counter, quickly filling the kettle with water and switching it on to boil. He looks back at Gene with a half-smile.*

I'll be fine. We can have a lie-in... your hospital appointment isn't until the afternoon.

*Sam is determined not to make Gene feel guilty for the interrupted night on top of everything else.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene knows Sam's trying to reassure him. But the mention of his hospital appointment brings an image back into his mind. The stitches, the knife, dragging down his front, splitting both skin and thread together...

Unconsciously, Gene raises his hand and presses it protectively against his scar again. The point of this appointment is to remove his stitches. And while he's had stitches removed before, the thought of someone cutting the threads away from this injury in particular... It causes his heart to thud that little bit harder.*

Shit... Forgot about that...
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam doesn't realise what he's done until after he's poured boiling water into the two mugs he's prepared. Once he does turn around to look at Gene, however, ready to try and cheer him up further, Sam's heart sinks rapidly. Shit, did he say the wrong thing...?! He'd thought that Gene would relish the thought of the stitches coming out, that it would distract him...!

... although, he still doesn't know what exactly Gene dreamed... and with what little Sam could get out of him, it seemed that the nightmare took place in the bedroom... And now he's got his hands covering the cut down his front as though he's expecting it to pop open any second...

Oh Jesus, what a mess...

The mugs forgotten, Sam moves over to the table and lays his hand on Gene's shoulder, squeezing gently.*

... it'll be alright.

*And finally, now that they're both sat down and Gene has calmed down, Sam does what he's wanted to do since Gene properly woke up: he leans in, carefully placing his hand on his partner's cheek.*

... look at me?
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Gene Hunt
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*it'll be alright. It will. Sam keeps telling him that. He keeps telling himself that. And he's sure Sam's right... But it's hard to believe it when the dream is still fresh in his mind. The feeling of thread twanging open accompanied by the deep slice of the knife...

Gene forces himself to follow Sam's guidance, looking up and into his eyes. He's trying hard to hide his emotions - he's shown far too much already. But he's so tired, so emotionally exhausted. it's hard to hide the look of worry from behind his eyes.*
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Sam Tyler
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*It's testament to how tired and affected Gene is that for once, Sam is able to read him like a book. There's fear in his eyes... Worry and fear. God, all that was supposed to be over...!

Sam is sure that his own concern is showing clearly on his face, his grief over the progress they seem to have lost within just a few minutes. But that isn't what Gene needs right now.. He needs reassurance and support.

So Sam closes the distance between them, softly pressing his lips against Gene's. Maybe the more he feels grounded, the closer Sam stays to him, the more Gene will be able to forget about that nightmare... Be able to shake off whatever horrors he experienced....!*
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Gene Hunt
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*Genes eyes close as Sam's lips touch his. The sensation is something to focus on. Something to ground him. He kisses back, gently this time. There's no fight left in him to capture Sam's lips like he usually would do. This is passive, accepting.

And while he might not fully throw himself into it, Sam's gesture does slow his beating heart a little. His muscles relax, and by the time they part Gene's soul is quivering less than it was.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam doesn't expect Gene to fully go with the kiss the way he normally would, so even that gentle response is reassurance enough for Sam - reassurance that he's doing the right thing. And as they part, it seems to him that Gene looks somewhat calmer... A bit more relaxed...

Sam's fingers caress Gene's cheek as he holds his partner's gaze, searching it for a sign that he's managed to anchor himself further in the real world... A sign that the nightmare is definitely losing its grip on him. Anything other than that pitch-black despair...

Quietly, Sam asks*

... Do you want to talk about it at all? You know I'll listen.
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's eyes are searching his own, looking for... something... A sign of life, most likely. A spark of something that doesn't reek of self pity. He sighs, closing his eyes to hide himself from Sam's desperate gaze.*

Well. S'not hard to guess the general theme, is it.
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Sam Tyler
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*Gene closes his eyes, avoiding Sam's gaze... That's not like him. At all.

Sam can't force Gene to look at him, of course, but it's hard to resist the urge to try and get him to open his eyes again... Sam needs to see that spark in them... Right now, they resemble the wolf's eyes far too much, right before Sam got the bullet out... When it had nuzzles close, as if to ask Sam to stay by its side until its inevitable death...

The memory envelops Sam's heart like ice, and it's all he can do keep his voice from going unsteady.*

Mh. In... In the bedroom?

*He needs to keep Gene talking...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene takes a shakey breath. Sam wants to know what happened. And while Gene can explain it, he doesn't think he can explain how it seems to have unlocked all this trauma he'd hidden away. It was just a dream, just a bloody harmless dream. And yet it's like it's set Warren on him once again. The panic, the feeling of a clock ticking his life away in seconds, bringing nothing but pain closer... It's like that thought's just consumed him.

He opens his eyes again, but doesn't quite look at Sam yet.*

Mhm. There were... there were a few of 'em.
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Sam Tyler
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*Okay, he's opening up... Sam needs to keep going, even if Gene isn't really looking at him. It's better than closing his eyes in defeat... Giving up...

He nods, trying to encourage Gene to continue*

... You must've thought they'd broken into the house.

*he gnaws on his lower lip for a moment, before carefully venturing*

Who... were they?
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's putting the pieces together. And Gene's grateful - the more Sam works out the less he actually has to say out loud. He nods, confirming Sam's guess.*

Warren's. Some of 'em, anyway. Recognised a few of their ugly faces, but not all of 'em.
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Sam Tyler
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*Warren's men... Shit. Of course that would make the dream seem all the more realistic, with Warren in prison... And finding out Gene's address would be child's play for them.

Suddenly, it's Sam who feels uneasy, having to squash down the use to check whether there are shadows moving behind the drawn curtains...

With some difficulty, he asks*

... Came to... finish what Warren started?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene swallows.*

Yeah... Only I wasn't turned. It was a revenge thing. Didn't matter to 'em I was human.

*His hand clenches a little around the cut down his front, like he's trying to hold his broken skin together.*

.... They still wanted it.

*it. His skin.*
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Sam Tyler
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*"It". Gene's skin... While he was human.

... Jesus Christ.

Sam's eyes widen with horror, his fingers on Gene's cheek twitching. So he basically experienced that same torture again... Only worse...

And there was nothing Sam could do to prevent it...

His voice wants to break, but Sam forces it to remain steady - he has to be strong for Gene now. Has to show him that Gene can rely on him, can lean on him... Still, Sam can't raise his voice above a whisper as he says*

... That sounds... Horrific.....!
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Gene Hunt
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Wasn't no picnic in the park, no.

*he forces himself to carry on. He needs Sam to know this. He needs to explain why this is hitting him so hard. Make sure Sam doesn't think he's pathetic...*

This time they actually... Actually started to peel me. Like a ruddy grape. Put knives through my hands to stop me from jumping up and rippin' their throats out, then--

*He stops, gesturing to the cut down his front. He trusts Sam knows what he means. That they sliced him open again. That despite Sam's assurances that he'll be safe from now on, he can't escape the damage that's already been done to his mind and nerves.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam shudders at the mental image Gene's words conjure up. It's all too easy to imagine... Though for a moment, Sam doesn't see Gene as human, but as wolf. Lying dead in a puddle of blood, and Warren cutting into him, breaking through muscles and bone...

And Gene had to go through that, alive. In a dream, yes, but... Sam knows all too well how real dreams can feel. Knives through his hands, before they started to...

Sam swallows thickly.*

... Jesus...

*And apart from all that, there was another thing... Something Gene gave away right after waking up... *

.... And... And I was....?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene nods, avoiding Sam's eyes once again. If things had really happened like this... He can't even bring himself to think it again.*

Yeah. Tried to bargain, but... They weren't havin' it.

They did it quick. No warning.
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Sam Tyler
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...

*Sam is speechless for a good few seconds. Gene had to live through all that... His worst nightmare... Just like Sam had to, a week ago. And his heart aches, because he couldn't do anything to prevent it. Hell, the day had been perfect... Gene had been in good spirits... And still....!

Unable to do anything else, Sam leans in and embraces Gene once more, almost clinging onto him. It's the best he can do... Make Gene feel him, feel that he's real. That the nightmare is definitely over... *
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