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Of Wolf and Man; Who let the dogs out, who, who, who?
Topic Started: Mar 12 2016, 06:14 PM (14,182 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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......

*For a moment, Gene can't believe it. He thought Sam would be safe here... He put a guard on the door...!

His stomach sinks, his response barely more than a growl.*

... When did this happen?

*He has a suspicion... but whether he's correct relies on the timing.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The silence that follows after Sam has told his story leaves him anxious - he can't see Gene's face, so he doesn't know if it's skepticism or shock that's keeping Gene from saying anything.

But then... that growl. It sends a shiver down Sam's spine.

Once again, he gets the feeling that Gene knows. He knows what's going on. He knows what's behind all this.*

... I don't know. After I first woke up after the operation. Dunno what time it was.

Bates came in right after... but he says he didn't see anyone.
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Gene Hunt
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*After Sam woke up.... That must have been early - Gene knows they'd scheduled Sam in in the earlier slot. So before he and Warren had their little talk.

That bastard.... No wonder he was so bloody smug!! Here's Gene telling him to stay away from Sam, and only hours before he'd been here, interfering. Intimidating! While Gene was out looking for him to tell him specifically to leave Sam alone!

Body rigid with rage, Gene clenched his fists against his knees.*

Nobody told me.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam may not be able to see Gene at the moment... but he can clearly hear the subdued rage in his voice. It throws him off more than he might have thought it would.*

He popped in earlier and said he hadn't been able to reach you...
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Gene Hunt
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*cursing Inwardly, Gene thinks, of course he couldn't. Gene was speaking to the very person Bates was trying to warn him about.

Tension evident in Gene's voice, he replies.*

I'll get another guard stationed. Two on duty at all times.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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...

*Two guards. That's a lot, especially for someone like Gene. And especially considering what he'd said yesterday...

Quietly, Sam says*

... that's an awful lot of safeguarding for a copper who was... 'mugged'.

*Not that Sam doesn't appreciate the fact that Gene is taking this seriously... but still. Through the tiredness, his suspicions begin to rise again.*
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Gene Hunt
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*leaning back in his chair, Gene rubs his hands over his face tiredly. There's an odd feeling forming in his stomach and he's sure he can feel a slight headache beginning at the base of his skull. It must be stress. He feels about done.*

Yeah, well. S'what happens when you tell me some bastard was in here interfering with you.

*He sighs, letting his hands drop.*

You know, despite how much you may compare my emotional capabilities to those of a rock, I do actually want to keep you safe.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Again, Sam remains silent for a while.

Gene wants to keep him safe. And he sounds... he sounds honest. Almost... unguarded. There's a strange feeling in his belly, and it takes Sam a moment to realise that it's something like... like happiness seems to be welling up inside him.

And so, finally breaking the silence, Sam murmurs*

... I appreciate that.
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Gene Hunt
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*And just like that, Sam's attitude seems to have dissipated. He sounds grateful, and Gene wasn't expecting that. He can't blame Sam for being suspicious... He can only hope that he'll just let it go and drop it. Accept the help Gene's offering and focus on getting better.

He twitches his mouth in response, but of course Sam can't see that. Saying something feels too soppy somehow. He's already let out more honesty than he'd meant to, and his head is feeling too foggy to navigate the finer subtleties of emotional response.*

So.

You gonna answer my question? How're you feeling?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam won't just let it go. He still needs to get to the bottom of it...

But he knows he can't do it right now, with the state he's in. After everything that happened, right after his surgery... he doesn't have the energy to further pursue his suspicions.

And he has to admit that he's grateful for the company... Gene's company no less. Sam hadn't really thought that he'd come back... but here he is, genuinely caring and worrying for his safety. Ever since the whole affair with Warren started, Sam had assumed that he'd become a liability. That Gene would be glad for him to be out of the way, if only temporary.

But clearly... that isn't the case.

Sam takes a breath, raising a hand (the one that's less bandaged) and somewhat clumsily carding his fingers through his already tousled hair.*

I don't know.

... tired. Put through the wringer.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene watches Sam with sympathy, the tiredness evident in his voice and motions, even if his facial expressions are partially obscured by bandages.*

Yeah, you look it, too.

But you won't be in 'ere long... And eh, at least once you leave you'll be an expert at pin the tail on the donkey!
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam exhales audibly, lowering his hand back onto the blanket - if he could have, he would have rolled his eyes. Trust Gene to make light of a situation like this.

But, with the state he's in right now... he does feel grateful. A little. The hint of banter is giving him some breathing room, an opportunity to let go, just a bit.

And really, he's feeling too tired to really get angry.*

Yeah, I'm sure that's gonna be helpful... somehow.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and dropping his head. He's going to have to go and get a coffee or something soon... He must have worn himself out talking to Warren. He doesnt feel right....*

So... They tell you when I'll be able to bust you out of here yet then?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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No...

*Sam takes a breath, gathering himself*

Bates did say that surgery went well. I'm... starting to heal.

*And, before Gene can ask, Sam adds*

There's still no telling with the... the eyes, though.

*Suddenly, the thought strikes him that Sam doesn't even know what Bates looks like. He swallows, his chest growing tight.*
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Gene Hunt
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*a mix of worry and relief hit Gene all at once. The surgery went well, but they still don't know about his sight...

The not knowing is killing Gene, so god knows how Sam feels. He can only imagine.*

Right. Okay.

*He breathes out heavily, trying to stop himself from bombarding Sam with questions. He doesn't want to overwhelm him or keep him focused on his injuries just to satisfy his own curiosity and concern.

Distraction. That's what he needs to focus on.*

The boys down the station send their best wishes. And Ray sends you a kick in the bollocks, but I reckon you were expecting that.

*closes his eyes and leans back, voice slightly thin as his headache seems to attempt to break through again*

Cartwright'll probably be over at some point to kiss it better.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam's lips twitch for a moment when Gene suddenly changes topic - he can't tell whether he's just saying that to distract Sam, or whether the men at the station really do care for him. Neither option seems particularly plausible... Which makes it all the more confusing.

But, even as Gene mentions Annie, Sam's attention is drawn to something different - the sound of Gene's voice.*

Mh.

*Sam hesitates for a moment, then mutters*

...You sound like you could do with some rest.
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Gene Hunt
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*Rubbing his temple with one hand, Gene opens eyes and watches Sam carefully. Does he really sound that tired?

Dismissing it, Gene grunts.*

Says the chump who's confined to bed rest and chicken soup through a straw.
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Sam Tyler
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*Deflecting again. Sam sighs.*

Thanks for the reminder. I'd almost forgotten.
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Gene Hunt
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S'what I'm here for!

*he can tell Sam isn't happy, but he feels helpless as to what he can do. Besides post guards and keep checking in, there isn't much else he can do for Sam. It's not easy to sit with.*

There anything you need? Or shall I go sort that extra guard?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Gene's asking him if there's anything he needs. And he sounds sincere.

Sam remains silent for a few seconds, contemplating this. There isn't really anything Gene can do right now... apart from finally telling the truth about what happened.

But Sam can feel himself slipping back into a doze again... he's tired. It's all he is these days, it seems.

And so, he lets down his guard to murmur*

... some music would be nice...

*Not that he expects Gene to take him seriously - but hell, he asked, so now he's got his answer.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Music... Of course. Without his eyes all Sam can do is listen. Makes sense.*

Well I'm not about to sing you a lullaby.

*But maybe he can find a cassette or something... There are enough tape players at the station. He could borrow one... Or maybe there's a radio lurking about somewhere in the hospital. He'll sort it. When Sam next wakes up there'll be music playing for sure.*

Bates looks like he's got a good pair of lungs on 'im. Maybe he'll do a Phantom of the Opera if you say please.
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Somewhere at the back of Sam's mind, a little bit of an alarm bell goes off - something about Gene mentioning the Phantom of the Opera doesn't seem... quite... right. But he can't put a finger on it... and anyway, there really are more important things to worry about...

Sam snorts lightly. Of course Gene was going to brush him off.*

I'll pass, thanks.

*He takes a breath and releases it slowly, letting the tiredness properly settle in his body. On the one hand, he does want Gene to stay... to talk to him... so that he has at least some anchor, to tell him where he is... that he isn't in some kind of limbo...

But on the other hand... when he sleeps, he sometimes hears the voices from 2006... keeping him updated... and maybe he might even end up hear his mother again...

After a few seconds of silence, Sam quietly says*

... I'd like to sleep now.
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam sounds so defeated.... It's so hard to watch. The man's usually so eager to fight or make some remark. But now...

Taking his cue, Gene pushes himself up.*

Ok. I'll go sort that guard out. Make sure nobody disturbs you.

*He hesitates, then gently pats Sam's shoulder before turning and leaving the room. Soon enough there's a guard stationed outside with another on the way.

Around an hour later, Gene returns. Sam's still asleep when he slips through the doorway, but that's for the best. It means Sam won't hear Gene fumbling with the tape player he's brought with him - clunkily pushing the cassette in and rewinding it to the start. Finding something that Sam would like wasn't easy - he still doesn't quite know enough about his musical tastes to guess, but Bowie seemed like a safe bet. So, without waking Sam up, Gene presses play and adjusts the volume to what he hopes is a comforting level before taking his leave. At least Sam will have something nice to wake up to.*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The gentle pat to his shoulder rouses Sam for a brief moment, but before he can say anything, Gene is gone. He relaxes back onto the mattress with a quiet sigh. The fact that Gene seems to be so genuinely worried about his well-being... it's both calming and confusing. It's another thing he'll have to try and understand if...

... once his sight is restored.

However, knowing that Gene will indeed stay true to his word and position a new guard, Sam quickly sleeps into a deep sleep. He doesn't wake up again until the evening, to the sound of the final chords of 'Andy Warhol'. At first, Sam panics somewhat, thinking he's again transitioning from one place to another - but a quick fumble, and he realises it's a cassette recorder positioned next to him.

... so... so Gene kept that promise as well.

There's a strange fluttering in Sam's chest at the thought. This is something different from looking after an officer's health...

Sam's life continues this way for the next few days. Gene visits sometimes - not quite often enough to really rouse suspicion, but definitely more than one would expect. Bates tells Sam that he's making good progress, that there have been no complications so far - even the gashes in his side are healing up slowly, and the stitches might even come out a bit earlier than expect. His leg is mending nice as well, and by the end of the week Sam is allowed to attempt to hobble through his room - lead by a nurse, of course, so that he doesn't bang into walls.

And then, finally... finally, it's time.

Sam wakes up with the knowledge that, an hour after breakfast - the last meal that's going to be fed to him by a nurse, hopefully - the bandages covering his eyes will come off.

He can't tell if it's that knowledge or the raging hunger is making him feel sick.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Once Sam's had his breakfast, Bates knocks on Sam's door.

"Mr Tyler? Are you finished?"*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam flinches slightly at the knock, but then he gathers himself, takes a breath, and nods.*

... yeah. Ready.

*As ready as he'll ever be...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates takes a breath and moves towards Sam's bed.

"Okay."

God, he's nervous as well. He can only imagine how Sam must be feeling. It's now that they both find out whether Sam's sight is going to be saved. And of all his patients, Sam seems to have touched Bates's heart in some way. He's hoping beyond hope that he's done enough to help.

"So. You understand what we'll be doing today. I'll be removing your bandages and we'll be taking a look at your eyes. Now.... Understand that even if your sight is one hundred percent restored things will be very blurry for the first few weeks. You've been in the dark for a while now... It's going to take time to adjust. It won't be immediate."*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam shallows reflexively at Bates' words. A few weeks... That's how long it will take... Christ. But if that is what it takes, Sam will gladly go through that as well... Just so long as at the end of it, he'll be able to see again... The thought of being disappointed is too much to bear.

So Sam nods again.*

I understand.
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates nods and takes a breath. Okay, here goes...

"Okay then. Tilt your head forward a bit for me?"

Tense, he reaches behind Sam's head and unfastens the bandage, slowly and gently unwrapping it. After a moment the bandage falls away, revealing two squares of gauze, one taped over each of Sam's eyes. There's very little evidence of leakage on the outside, so that's a good sign. But they're still not quite there yet.

Bates nods to the nurse who's so far been hanging back, and she quickly moves over to the window, shutting the blinds and flicking the lights off. With the only light coming from the doorway and the room dim enough to hopefully save Sam some pain, Bates gently peels the gauze away to reveal the damage.

And it looks.... Good. Sore still, but... The wounds are closed nicely, the stitches having done their job - though Sam's going to be left with three claw-like scars across his face still. But his eyelids seem undamaged - the surgery and sterilisation seems to have prevented any infection...

"Okay, all's looking good so far. When you're ready, try opening your eyes. It'll feel sore, but we've dimmed the lights so there shouldn't be too much of a shock. Just look straight forward and tell me what you can see... "

If it's a success, Sam should see a blurred light in the darkness - the doorway and the fluorescent glow of the lights in the corridor.... *
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam's heart is beating loud as a drum, thrumming through his body as Bates starts to unfasten the bandage. The last few times this happened, Sam had been asleep, knocked out by anaesthetics. This time, he gets to actually feel it - the sensation of air brushing against the tender skin of his face as the cloth lifts away... the slight prickling as the gauzes are removed... He can feel the stitches properly, pulling against his frown. His face feels... stiff, somehow. Almost as if the skin has become too tight.

He heard faint noises earlier, but only now does he understand what they were - it's still dark behind his closed eyelids, so (ignoring the other option) Sam assumes that what he heard was the nurse, making sure the room is dark enough for him.

Sam licks his lips nervously.*

Okay.

*Exhaling slowly, and fully aware of how nervous he is about this, Sam does take his time.

He's... he's scared. What if, once he opens his eyes, it will still be dark? Nothing, not the slightest hint of light?

But he won't know until he's tried.

Another few seconds pass, and finally... finally, Sam's eyelids flutter, and he slowly opens his eyes.

There's a sting of pain, and he grimaces, closing his eyes again - but that doesn't keep him from trying again.

This time, he manages to open them up a little further, and to keep them open. Slowly, he searches the dark. Tries to spot something. Anything. The movement of his eyeballs feels strange, almost as if they're rusty.

Sam doesn't know how much time passes, but just as a horrible sinking feeling starts to settle in his stomach... he sees it.

A faint blob of dim light, somewhere at the bottom of his field of vision.

Sam raises his head automatically, trying to focus on it. The light seems to become a little bright, and a second later he does feel a sting behind his eyes, but there's no doubt about it - he can see it.

Letting his head rest against the pillow again, eyes still open, Sam says a little breathlessly*

There's... there's light. Over there. *he raises his hand to point over to the doorway.*
Edited by Sam Tyler, Jun 25 2016, 08:48 PM.
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Gene Hunt
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*it's tense, watching Sam slowly open his eyes and blink blindly at the light in front of him.

For a heart-stopping moment Bates thinks it hasn't worked. Sam doesn't seem to be able to see anything - he's concentrating, searching for anything in the darkness...

But then there it is. The small look of recognition - he sees something!

Thank god!

Bates breathes a heavy sigh of relief before moving in to give Sam's eyes a good look.

"Good! Very good! That's the doorway. How does everything feel?"*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*A shape even darker than the murkiness surrounding him moves in, blocking Sam's already limited view - but judging from how Bates' voices closes in, Sam conclude that this must be the doctor's silhouette. The thought makes his heart flutter and his eyes widen slightly with the slowly rising excitement.

The doorway... He saw the light of the doorway. It feels like it's the light at the end of the tunnel.*

... Erm... Rusty.

*Sam's eyes search for the spot of light again, but looking towards it is uncomfortable... *

The light hurts a bit... There's a bit of a sting.

*Sam hesitates, before adding*

My skin feels... Tight. Like it's too small.
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates pats Sam's shoulder in jubilation. This is all sounding extremely hopeful.

"Thats the skin knitting back together - it's going to take a little time for everything to loosen back up, I'm afraid. And you will have a scar - but over time it'll fade."

He stands back again, grinning.

"The rusty feeling is probably due to the lack of use and the residue left from the healing. But as long as you're able to see some blurs at this point, that's the best news we could have hoped for."*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The best news they could've hoped for.

A tingling sensation spreads through his chest as Sam takes that in. So his sight... It's gonna come back. He's on the mend, properly.

This is almost enough to make Sam forget about the other thing Bates mentioned - the scar. He does automatically reach up at his words, his fingers clumsily brushing across his skin... And there. Unmistakable humps across his face... The skin there feeling especially tender, almost irritated at his touch...

Before he knows it, Sam's traced the scars down their full length, right across his face, slightly slanted.

Christ.

Trying to get rid of his sudden unease, the memories resurfacing, Sam asks*

So... This is it. There won't be any... Lasting damage? Impairments?
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates watches as Sam traces his scars. Yes, they are rather... Noticeable... But in the grand scheme of things, it's a minor thing. Sam can see.

"The scars will last - they'll lighten and flatten over time, but in regards to your sight I think we can be confident that you'll recover fully. You'll need to be gentle with yourself though - use sunglasses for the first week or so, try not to look into any bright lights. Your pupils aren't used to dilating at the moment, and though your eyelids are functioning, they did sustain some scratching. The lubrication process will likely take a little time to settle, but I'll give you some eye drops to combat any dryness. But no, I don't foresee any major impairment, especially if you follow my post-op instructions."*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam takes all that in, turning it over in his head, making sure he understands the full implications, which are...

... If he's careful, he'll be ok.

A sigh escapes him before he knows it. He blinks several times, feeling something prickle at the back of his eyes, and when they start to burn, he closes them.

His voice quiet, Sam says*

... Thank you, doctor.
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates smiles again, patting Sam's shoulder once more.

"No trouble at all, Mr Tyler. I'm thrilled we've managed to help you."

And then, as an aside,

"Plus I have a feeling my head would be on a plate if your DCI had been disappointed!"*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*That draws a little smile from Sam - he'd doubted it before, but... Bates probably is right. Gene had been nothing but concerned these last few days, always asking how things were progressing. Thinking about it, he'll probably stop by again soon... Which leads Sam to a question.*

When can I leave?
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Gene Hunt
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*At this, Bates hisses through his teeth thoughtfully as he considers.

"Well... Technically, you could go home now. Though I know you live alone - is there someone you could stay with? Someone who could look after you? Your sight will recover, but not overnight..."*
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Sam Tyler
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...

*That does take the wind out of Sam's sails a bit. Well, a lot. Because... *

... There's... There's no one.

*He can't ask that of Annie - to look after him like that. No way. And apart from her...

Sam briefly contemplates asking Gene. He'd love to see where he lives. But then, Gene is married, isn't he. His wife would certainly not want an ailing colleague interfering with their lives. And Gene himself...

Would he?

... No... No, that's too much to ask.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates frowns, considering his options. Damn, that's unfortunate. Sam would probably heal faster in a location where he feels comfortable.

Unless.... Maybe his DCI...

"I'm sure there'd be someone willing to take you in... Have a think. I'll be back with your eye drops shortly. Try to get used to looking at the doorway and finding details in the meantime. Back in a mo. "

Leaving Sam to get used to his vision, Bates and the nurse exit the room. There's a phone call he needs to make....

------------

Around half an hour later, the light in the doorway is blocked by a large shape. A huffing great shape that looks like it's just run up a flight of stairs.

Gene marches into Sam's room, coat flapping behind him.*

Right! Up you get y'lazy bugger.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam doesn't need to think about it, but he nods anyway - after everything Bates has done for him, Sam doesn't want to be the whiney difficult patient.

So, as the footsteps retreat, Sam does as he's told and tries to focus on the doorway, on the light. However, that's easier said than done... If he looks at the light for too long, it's starts to hurt his eyes, and he has to press them shut and try again, from the beginning. And no matter how hard he tries, his eyes just refuse to focus and make out anything other than shapeless blobs.

Plus, all this concentrated looking is making Sam's eyes tired, so that by the time Gene appears in the doorway, he's slipped into a snooze.

The sound of loud footsteps and the even louder voice wakes Sam up though - startles him even. His eyes fly open and he blinks, trying to make out more than just different shades of darkness.*

Wh-what?
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Gene Hunt
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*Bates had explained to Gene about Sam's eyes - that the bandages were off and that the prognosis was good - but it's still a shock to see the scars across his face. And the way that Sam doesn't quite seem to be looking at him directly... It's unsettling. But Bates said it'll improve...*

Still on your arse then? Don't you wanna get out of this shit hole?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam's eyes move again as Gene speaks, following his voice. And there... He can just make out the large shape.

But what the hell is he saying...?

Sam scowls, as best as he can.*

I can't. Someone needs to look after me while... While my eyes heal.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene rolls his eyes, even though he knows Sam can't see it. Maybe he'll sense it at least.*

What d'you think I'm here to do? Sing you a song? Dance you a ruddy jig? Get off your arse and let's get out of here.
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Sam Tyler
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...

*Sam's mind just stops for a moment.*

...

*He blinks.*

... You're gonna...?

*He can't even bring himself to say the words. It feels too unreal.*
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Gene Hunt
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Not if you keep acting like they gave you a lobotomy instead of stitches!

*Gene picks up the bag of medication that Bates left next to Sam's bed, shoving it into his coat pocket. He knows he's taken Sam by surprise, but in a way that's part of the advantage. Gene can sweep him away before he changes his mind.*

Right, c'mon. *Gene slides an arm under Sam's shoulders to help him get up - Gene's aware of Sam's leg, and he's going to try to ignore the scars across Sam's face until they get home.*

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Sam Tyler
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*Sam is barely able to keep up with this sudden turn of events as Gene's hand already slides underneath his back, propping him up. His leg gives a twinge and Sam hisses involuntarily.*

Guv, wait-- you can't just--?!
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Gene Hunt
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*Hearing Sam's hiss, Gene eases off a bit - he wants to get Sam out but he doesn't want to hurt him in the process.*

Oh yeah... Almost forgot.

*He digs in his other pocket and produces his own pair of sunglasses, waggling them in front of Sam's face.*

... You'll be wanting these.
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Sam Tyler
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Wh-what?

*Sam feels overwhelmed - now something is being waved in front of his eyes, but he can't identify the shape. He reaches up blindly, his fingers catching hold of one of the glasses arms, and after a few seconds, he realises - glasses. And when he puts them on with Gene's help, and notices how everything goes a little bit darker...

... Sunglasses.

Huh. Gene really... He really means it. He's looking after Sam, in his own way...

Pulling himself together, Sam mutters*

... Thank you.
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's sincere thanks warms Gene's heart. He still feels indirectly responsible for what happened - for Sam finding himself mixed up in this unnatural world. And if he can make things right for him then he will.*

Just don't scratch 'em. You've seen what they can do, I'll be needing 'em back when you're less blind.

*then, more gently than before, Gene starts trying to help Sam out of bed.*

Bet you'll be glad to be out of here, eh.
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Sam Tyler
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Mh.

*Aided by Gene, Sam slowly sits up. It's unsettling how he still can't really see much more than differences in light and shadow, but... It's better than the inky darkness he'd found himself in during the last few days.*

So, er... Your wife is okay with this? Me staying at your house?
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Gene Hunt
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*His wife... Gene had almost forgotten that Sam knew about her... And didn't know about where she'd gone. Turns out being the wife of a police officer was hard enough - but the wife of a police officer who leaves the house on a regular timetable for a few nights a month? She could only guess affair or werewolf, and both fortunately and unfortunately she guessed the wrong one.

Gene pauses a moment, mind suddenly working hard to cobble together a reply.*

... She doesn't need to be okay with it, 'cos she won't even be there.

*Gene helps steer Sam into a sitting position, digging under the bed to find the clothes he knows are stuffed under there.*

Now get your frillies on. There's a butty at home with your poncey name on it.

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Sam Tyler
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... Oh. Okay.

*Normally, Sam wouldn't just leave it at that. But he's still reeling a little from this sudden turn of events - 10 minutes ago he was lost, homeless in a way, whereas now he suddenly finds himself with an extremely forthcoming DCI. Enquiring about Gene's marriage will have to wait til later - much later, possibly.

He can hear Gene rummaging about, but dipped in shadow as he is, Sam can't make anything out but slight movements in the murkiness. And he'd actually forgotten about the fact that he's still in his nightgown... Which means... Gene is about to help him get dressed? Oh bloody hell.*

Er. I'm not sure I can... I mean...
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam isn't going to be able to get dressed, is he. Damn. He hadn't considered that. All Gene's been focused on is getting Sam somewhere he knows that Warren can't go.

But, practical as ever, Gene takes the necessary steps.*

What, not gonna go all shy on me are you? Seen one todger you've seen them all. Now lean forward.

*swiftly, Gene's undoing the bow holding Sam's night gown together and moving to pull it down over his shoulders *
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Sam Tyler
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*Again, Sam finds himself overwhelmed by Gene's practical approach, and for once he follows his Guv's orders without arguing.

He does, however, shiver - the bandages on his sides were changed earlier last night, and now all that's left covering the gash in his side is a swath of gauze. Everything else - the countless scratches and bruises are now out in the open, feeling vulnerable and raw.

And maybe it's that feeling that finally makes Sam mutter*

Just slow down a bit, will you...
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene pauses again, looking Sam up and down. And now that he's uncovered it's easy to see the surface damage he's sustained. The scratches, the gauze... He needs to try to remind himself that Sam really does need to go slower. However eager Gene is to get him home and shut them both away from everything.*

Right. Sorry. Uh...

*leaving Sam alone for a moment, Gene starts to straighten out Sam's shirt before holding it out to him*

You still feeling like you were hit by a bus then?
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Sam Tyler
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*Thank god, Gene is listening to him... It gives Sam a chance to catch his breath, and his mind to catch up with everything that's happening. He turns his head, trying to make out what Gene is doing, but it's no use - his vision is blurry and murky as it was before. But then, a lighter blob appears, and judging from the sounds it just heard, it must be some part of his clothes...?

And indeed, as Sam reaches out, clumsily grabbing onto it, he realises it's his shirt. He takes it from Gene and starts to feel his way to the buttons, trying to guess which way is up and which is down... Bloody hell, this is going to be so much more complicated than be ever could have dreamed...*

You could say that...

*He feels more like he was chewed on by a massive dog - which, he remembers with a shudder, is in fact the truth.*
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Gene Hunt
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*seeing Sam's struggle with the shirt, Gene takes a hold of it again and turns it the right way up, guiding the arm holes into the right place. *

Mmhh. Well then, all the more reason to get you into a bed that doesn't need a sterile scrub every few days.
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Sam Tyler
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*Suddenly, Sam finds himself being dressed by Gene, and he doesn't quite know how to feel about that. To give himself a bit of time, he busies himself with slowly buttoning up his shirt.

Finally, chin still tucked down even though he can't really see what his fingers are doing, Sam says*

So you, uh - you've got a spare bed?
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Gene Hunt
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Yeah, s'only small but it should hold your puny body no problem.

*flaps Sam's trousers about, making sure they're not crumpled and therefore easy to get into*

Spent enough nights in it - s'not too bad.
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Sam Tyler
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Right.

*Finally done with the buttons, Sam looks up at where he thinks Gene is - he just have been shaking out his trousers just now... *

And Bates knows about this....?
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene gives the trousers one last flap, dropping them beside Sam on the bed.*

Well I should ruddy hope so, considering he called me over here. Was just about to slip into a nice bubblebath with a copy of Nice Buns as well.
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Sam Tyler
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...!

*Bates called Gene. Sam doesn't know what to make of that. And what's more, Gene agreed to take him in... Sam isn't sure how to deal with the implications of this turn of events.

He reaches to his side, finding the trousers after a few seconds. This time, he's a little bit faster with finding which way is up, but when he bends over to try and pull them on, a painful sting shoots through his side. Sam groans, reflexively pressing his hand against the wound, eyes screwed shut.*
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Gene Hunt
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*startled, Gene grabs a hold of Sam, steadying him.*

Whoa. Okay. Just hold your horses a mo...

*gently, he bends down and takes over, threading each of Sam's legs into the corresponding holes and pulling them up as far as he can. Then he places a hand on Sam's shoulder, dipping to try and get a look at his face.*

You alright?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam is still riding out the pain as he feels Gene take control, so there's nothing he can do to help, or protest.

When he next hears Gene's voice, it's startlingly close. Opening his eyes, Sam is able to make out Gene's silhouette, but no details...

Somewhat breathless, he let's his hand drop away from his side.*

Y-yeah. M'not... Used to this.

*And how could he be? He's been thrown into this, the same way he'd been thrown into 1973 in the first place. Every time he thinks he's got a handle on the situation, something new comes along and knocks him off track. Sam's mouth pulls into a bitter line at that thought, his head drooping slightly.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene thinks to himself - of course Sam's not used to this. Who would be?*

Well. Lucky for you, you won't have to get used to it. It's temporary, remember? You're already looking less like death than you did a few days ago. You'll be mended sooner or later.
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Sam Tyler
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... I suppose.

*Temporary... yes. All of this is just temporary.

Finally, Sam feels for his trousers, and once he's got them, pulls them up. It's somewhat painful again, having to lever himself up, but this time he grits his teeth and tries not to let it show. Buttoning up his flies takes quite a bit of fiddling as well, not to mention the belt - but finally, he's done it, even if it leaves him a little out of breath.

Now, he'll have to get up... Levering himself up had been fine, he'd just shifted his weight onto his uninjured side... but now....? Moving his leg had been painful during the last few days...

Sam stalls, moving his head to try and see if there's a cane ready without having to ask Gene - but of course, he sees nothing but crude, blurry shapes. Something as thin and small as a cane or crutch wouldn't stand out to him right now...*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene is one step ahead of Sam - he's already taking hold of Sam's arm, providing support if needed.*

There's a cane at home you can use if you want it.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam flinches slightly when he feels Gene's touch, but then he understands, even before Gene speaks.

Pulling himself up with Gene's aid, however, makes one thing abundantly clear to Sam. As soon as he shifts his weight to be equally spread to both his legs, pain shoots up his injured leg, and he buckles with a choked sound of pain, flailing blindly for something to hold onto--!*
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Gene Hunt
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Whoa there, Nancy Drew! Take it slow.

*Gene's grabbed onto Sam the moment he looked unsteady, holding him up forceably. Sam's bound to be a bit wobbly, especially with that leg still causing him pain... But Gene's not going to let him fall.*

I know my good looks make your knees knock together, but you can save the swooning for later...
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam is leaning heavily against Gene, holding onto him with all the strength he has left, trying to catch his breath. Jesus, this is going to be a fight and a half...!

After a few seconds, Sam manages to bitterly mutter*

Don't flatter yourself, I'm blind as you well know.

*But the second it's out, Sam regrets the bitter remark - for once, it doesn't seem like Gene is actually trying to make fun of him... *
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Gene Hunt
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*mutters back, determined not to take that personally. Keep things jovial, keep the mood light - that's the best way to deal witth things like this... *

Nothing wrong with your memory. Doubt you could ever forget this mug.

*helps Sam to the doorway, shouldering up the bag of supplies he'd brought in previously - spare clothes, toothbrush etc. Getting Sam to the car will be the worst but. After that it should be plain sailing.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam just huffs at this, not trusting himself to come up with a suitable response. They're moving now, and it's hard enough to keep taking step after step - his bad leg is weak, won't take any of his weight, but more than once he shifts into it anyway, and the result is stabbing pain and nausea, enough to make his eyes water.*

*under his breath* Oh bloody hell...

*Sam reaches up with his free hand to try and scrub at his eyes - carefully, of course. He really could do without crying in front of Gene...!*
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*Gene does his best to juggle both Sam's weight and the heavy bag, but from the tears that start to fall he's clearly not doing a good enough job. Concerned, Gene hoists Sam a little higher and slows down.*

What's the matter now? You seen Jesus?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam shakes his head, still trying to stop the flow, though he's not doing a good job. He gives up after a few seconds, because scrubbing over his skin is starting to irritate the scars there.

The scars. Feeling the tissue, the stitches... It doesn't exactly help with the nausea.*

I-- I dunno. Eyes're just... overflowing. C-can't help it.

*Bates had mentioned something like that earlier, when he had brought Sam the eye drops (though he'd failed to mention that he had called Gene, Sam now realises) - that his eyes would be extremely sensitive to any kind of stimulus for a while now. That they would probably tear up at the slightest irritation.

Jesus Christ, the elation over having regained his sight has well and truly faded.*
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*Hmm. Well. It's probably to be expected. But even though he knows Sam isn't 'crying' as such, it's still not nice to see. Just more evidence of damage that was done by Warren and his lapdog. Damage that Gene was too late to prevent.*

Alright, well... You can sob into your petticoat when we get home. Let's just get you out of the building first.

*Gene guides Sam as best as he can, making sure he doesn't bump into anyone and that as much weight is lifted from Sam's bad leg as possible. If he can just get him to the car.... *
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Sam Tyler
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*This time, Sam just nods. Even though he knows that none of this is his fault, that he doesn't have to excuse his reactions, there still is a burn of humiliation deep down in his gut. It's one thing to be crying over the death, or near-death, of a person - but it's quite another to be injured, stripped down to a raw core and completely vulnerable. In this moment, it seems like it can't get any worse than his superior officer having to half-carry him out of the hospital. He could just as well be naked and cuffed to his bed for the department to find.

So Sam remains silent, using what energy he has to bite back groans and try to stem the flow of tears. But it only gets worse - the light in the corridor stings in his eyes, even through closed eyelids, and when they step outside into sunny daylight, Sam physically flinches back, reflexively burying his face in Gene's shoulder, for lack of a better and quicker solution.*
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*Jesus... Should Sam really be leaving? He doesn't seem capable of even being out of bed - is Bates really right in thinking that Sam should go home?

Though they've gotten this far... To turn around would be just as difficult as to carry on.*

Jesus. You're a right ruddy mess, aren't you...

*it's not said with insult or malice - more a sense of apology and sympathy.*

Right... Try this...

*dropping Sam's bag for a moment, Gene tugs at his tie until it comes loose. Then, he drapes it over Sam's head.*

Hold that over your eyes or stuff it behind your glasses or something. Just til we get you home.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam's head is pounding with pain even in the soothing dark of Gene's coat, so much so that any thought of embarrassment has temporarily been wiped from his mind. All he can think is that he wants the darkness back if it means not having to deal with this agony, and that thought alone is scary enough in itself that Sam only becomes properly aware of Gene's presence again when he speaks and drops something on top of his head.

Sam reaches up with a shaky hand, to catch whatever it is - and hesitates. That material... It's a tie? If he puts that over his eyes... It might work.

Sam does as Gene suggested, though it takes a few seconds for him to manage to get a proper grip and slide it underneath the sunglasses. But once he does... Sam almost sighs with relief. The cool silk is soothing against his irritated skin, and the darkness it causes is almost welcoming. And Gene is still there, still helping Sam along - he didn't even sound disgruntled, just now. He sounded like... Like he genuinely cares.

Flustered and in pain, but still wanting to express the gratitude he feels, Sam whispers*

... Thanks. Th-that helps.
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Gene Hunt
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*good - at least he's been able to help just a little bit...

Gene doesn't respond, merely pulling him along as carefully as he can, steering him around any obstacles and alerting him whenever there's a step he needs to pay attention to. He's hoping that Sam will start to feel a bit more secure when he's in a proper house rather than a hospital. The smells and the noises here aren't exactly comforting. *
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Sam Tyler
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*Even with Gene helping him along, doing a frankly fantastic job at alerting Sam to obstacles and the likes, it's hard going. By the time they stop again by what Sam assumes must be the cortina, he feels absolutely exhausted. His whole body is twinging and sore, his knees shaking slightly with the exertion, and his head and eyes still haven't quite recovered from the earlier burst of sunlight. He's leaning in Gene more heavily than before, and the fact that he isn't even trying anymore to take as much of his own weight as possibly, is saying a lot.*
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*it's obvious how exhausted Sam is - and of course he is. Being in bed for as long as he has is bound to make anyone feel stiff, even not counting his injuries.

There are no jibes or jokes this time. Instead, Gene just opens the passenger door and tries to help Sam duck into the seat.*

Watch your head...
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam follows Gene's directions without complaining, letting the Guv steer him into the car. Feeling the leather and solidity of the seat against his back causes a wave of relief wash through Sam, and he sighs a little as he settles back. Pulling his legs into the car is painful, but it's over quickly... Finally, he can rest a little... *
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*Gene makes sure that all of Sam's extremeties are all inside the car before shutting the door much more softly than normal - no need to give his ailing friend a headache on top of everything else.

Once the bag's deposited on the backseat, Gene slides into the driver's side and starts the engine. But before he moves off he pokes at the stereo, flipping the radio on to the station he knows that Sam hates the least. He'll claim it's so Sam can listen instead of blathering on, but inside he knows that isn't the reason.

And with that, he sets off.*

You peckish? Got a butty at home ready for the oven if you fancy it.
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Sam Tyler
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*The fact that Gene is operating a lot more carefully than usual isn't lost on Sam. Disoriented and exhausted from all the extreme stimuli as he is, the fact that Gene is going out of his way to make things easier for Sam suddenly seems to mean so much more. He even switches on the radio...

And then that offer...*

Sounds... Sounds lovely.

*And Sam means it. After having been fed hospital mush for a week, even something as greasy as a butty sounds like heaven.

Cheering up a little, Sam reaches up to adjust the placement of the tie on his eyes. He doesn't want to risk taking it off yet - the headache the sunlight caused is still pulsing faintly - and he actually finds that its smell has a rather... Calming effect on him. It smells of smoke, of aftershave (Brut?) and... Something comforting that Sam can't quite identify.*
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*glad that his efforts seem to be going appreciated, Gene wiggles in his seat a little, pleased. At least he's helped some.

He drives the rest of the way in silence, letting Sam rest and lose himself in the radio. But soon enough Gene's pulling up outside his door and switching the engine off.*

Right. Want me to carry you over the threshold like the blushing mare that you are, or are you gonna be okay for me to guide you?
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam is grateful for the silence. The steady roar of the Cortina's engine along with the music of his youth lull him into a light doze, and over time even the daylight that's filtering through his makeshift blindfold seems to become less glaring.

When Gene switches the engine off and addresses Sam, he takes a deep breath, pulling himself back into the present. He's surprised to find that he feels less exhausted, and more ready to deal with the changes this injury has (hopefully temporarily) brought on. So his answer comes out a lot more chipper than either of them probably would have expected*

M'fine. Lead on, Guv.

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Gene Hunt
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*encouraged by Sam's tone, Gene does just that - he hefts the bag from the back seat and moves round to Sam's side to open the door.

He extends a hand, brushing it against Sam's shoulder so he's aware of it. Maybe this isn't going to be quite as bad as he'd thought.... *
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam follows the sounds, trying to estimate how fast Gene is moving and what he's doing - if he's going to be vision-impaired for a while longer, he'd better train himself to use the rest of his senses as best as he can!

Gene's touch still comes as a little bit of a surprise, but Sam still appreciates it - it's an invitation that he gladly takes, reaching up to grab onto Gene's arm. Guided that way, Sam manages to get up and out of the car. Standing up definitely isn't as comfortable as sitting up though... His bad leg refuses to take any of his weight, and the stitches beneath his rib cage pull uncomfortably no matter which way Sam moves. He just hopes Gene's got his own driveway, so that the distance to the door (and lounge) won't be too far...*
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*Gene doesn't have a driveway, per se - but he does have a gate which is oiled and can swing open with a good kick. He leads Sam up the path and to the door, letting him in quickly - the sooner Sam gets sat down the better.*

Right... Get yourself in here. Lounge is about five steps forward, two to the left, swivel and collapse.

*of course Gene's going to be steering Sam, but no harm in telling him too.*
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*Gene himself seems to have become somewhat more comfortable with leading Sam as well, which makes things that much easier. Sam follows without complaining - and once the door closes behind them and they're in the gloom of the hallway, he removes the tie, though his eyes remain closed.*

Right, ok.

*Sam is fully prepared to go on his own - but there Gene is, following, keeping a good grip on him. Gratitude floods him once more as he makes his way to the lounge, one arm outstretched until he feels what he assumes is the settee. A bit more groping, and finally, Sam lowers himself down with a long sigh.*

Christ on a stick...
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*that sigh sounds so bone weary that Gene almost just wants to throw a blanket over him and tell him to sleep for a week. But he knows that Sam's hungry, plus he needs to make sure Sam's alright with where things are in the house...

But not after a breather.*

...Yeah. Like a puppet glove.

How you doing?
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[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Sam turns his head out of habit, though of course he still can't really see Gene, what with his eyes still closed. How is he doing... he doesn't even know.

Sam gives a little shrug.*

Can't tell.

... S'good to be out of hospital.

*turning his head back, the light seems to get brighter for a moment, and Sam squeezes his eyes shut further, reaching up to cover them additionally.*

Listen, could you, uhm - draw the curtains? The light's a bit... a bit much.
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Oh. Yeah, just a sec.

*kicking off his loafers, Gene moves over to the window and pulls the curtains shut. He's not turned any lights on yet, so the room is left pretty dim.*

Better?
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Gladys
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Ahhh that makes all the difference. Sam lowers his hand, nodding.*

Yeah. Cheers.

*Finally, he blinks his eyes open, rubbing then as a few stray tears escape. Christ, if this keeps up, it's going to be bloody embarrassing.

Sam looks up, though everything is still impossibly blurry. He can just about tell where the window is, but everything else...

A bit helplessly, he turns his head, trying to make out where Gene is... Or where he walked in from, even...!*
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Gene Hunt
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Detective Chief Inspector
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*in the dim light, Gene can see the tears escaping and running down his cheek. And there, the scars he's tried so hard not to react to. The deep, sore looking grooves across Sam's face, purple with freshly healing skin. Three big claw marks, running across almost the entirety of Sam's face, over his eyes, across his nose... It's not something Sam's going to be able to hide. This is going to be permanent. And the poor guy hasn't even seen it yet... *
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The silence in the room is becoming unnerving. Gene hasn't moved since he closed the curtains... So he must still be by the window... Sam tries to focus on that general area, and there does seem to be a distinctly Guv- shaped blob... But he can't tell for sure.

What he can tell, however, is that Gene is staring at him. It's that prickling sensation, making his scars tingle uncomfortably.

... The scars. Of course. Gene's seen them today for the first time... And Sam himself hasn't. He still doesn't know what Bates looks like, and he doesn't even know what he himself looks like now.

All these thoughts make him tense up, a frown appearing on his face. He's not going to address it directly - how could he.*

...what?
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Gene Hunt
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*Snapping out of it, Gene shakes his head and blinks. Damn, he needs to get his head straight...!*

Nothin'.

*quickly he walks over to the doorway, eager to get some space between them suddenly - he doesn't know what happened there.*

Butty sound good? Whisky?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The sound of Gene's voice at least tells Sam that he was fairly accurate in his estimation of his location - as for the rest... Gene is too good at deflecting and putting on a mask. His voice betrays nothing at all.

The thing is, Gene isn't usually shy about commenting on appearances. So for him to obviously have been staring, and then not saying anything about it... That's odd. It throws Sam off.

He turns his head to follow the sound of Gene walking away, painfully aware of the fact that he probably isn't quite looking the right way.*

Don't think I'm allowed alcohol... butty sounds great though.
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