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Cold Business; Gene's day gone wrong
Topic Started: Jun 22 2013, 09:20 PM (1,247 Views)
Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*Sam is cursing as he drives to the outskirts of Manchester. So he doesn't turn up on time one bloody day (nightmares had kept him up way late, and then he hadn't heard his alarm going off), and when he does get into CID, Gene isn't there. Chris informed him that their DCI had gone out alone to investigate an old factory building just outside of the city, and would probably return "soon-ish". So Sam busied himself with paperwork, until he realized it was well past noon, and Gene still wasn't back. He's learned to listen to his gut feeling by now, and at that moment his gut feeling was telling him something was wrong. That feeling got stronger when Gene didn't answer the radio call.

Now, Sam is very nearly there, he can see the Cortina parked in front of the building - so at least he's in the right place. But if Gene is still there, why hasn't he come out yet? And if he isn't inside, where has he gone...?

Sam pulls up next to the Cortina, and gets out of the car, his gaze focused on the building, looking for an accessible entrance.*

~~~



A few hours earlier...

*Three men are standing in the middle of a room deep inside the factory building, arguing amongst each other. It's cold in here, so their breath puffs up in a constrant stream of clouds as they talk, discussing something heatedly. Little do they know that soon, they will be interrupted....*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene parks the Cortina at the side of the building, deciding after a moment's hesitation to leave his gloves on - it's bloody cold in Manchester today, and he's not exactly looking forward to walking around an unused factory with no heating. It's only been shut down for a few weeks, but even that's enough to make the place seem creepy as hell.

Turning up the collar of his coat, Gene slams the Cortina door shut and uses the key he's been given to shove his way through the heavy door, closing it after himself. There's enough light coming through the narrow windows along the tops of the walls for him to see without turning on the lights. All he has to do is check out the scene for evidence - not a big job. And to be honest, he's not been feeling particularly himself the last couple of days, so a little detour all by himself is kind of welcome. Just a sniffle, nothing bad - enough to hide from the others, but just enough to throw him off his game a bit. But just you catch him admitting that to anyone!

He makes his way through the factory, completely oblivious to the blokes taking in the next room. Blame it on his slightly blocked up ears and his lessened alertness.

Once in the room he's looking for, Gene sets about examining the scene, the blood splatter (Sam'll like this one, it looks like a red ballpoint pen exploded) and the gauged lines in the floor. They've already taken prints, so he's free to crouch and run his finger along the edges of the lines, feeling the ridges. They match the axe they'd picked up last week, certainly....

But these marks here... They're smaller... a knife?

Completely oblivious to all around him, Gene lets his mind work, staring down at the clues completely focussed*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*As Gene enters the building, the men abruptly fall silent, exchanging glances. "I thought we'd be alone 'ere?!" one of them hisses, but the other silences him with a sharp motion of his hand. Together, they make their way to the door, and peek outside. The tallest one of them spots Gene at the far end of the large hall, and motions for the others to follow him carefully.

Slowly, they draw closer to Gene, one of them carefully picking up a club-like object on his way. And still Gene hasn't noticed them... For which they are extremely grateful. The distance between them shrinks... 10 meters... 5... 2....!

The man, standing behind Gene, raises the club over his head, hesitates for a moment, and then swings it down on Gene's head.*
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Gene Hunt
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*With all his senses so focussed inwards, Gene's completely oblivious to the man approaching behind him. And with his depleted energy, Gene doesn't even notice anything's wrong until the marks on the ground he's looking at fall into shadow. What the--

As the object strikes him, stars explode in front of Gene's eyes, pain blossoming out from the back of his head, down his spine, his arms and legs...

The floor swings up to meet Gene's face, and he vaguely feels hands on him, pulling and jostling. Eyes still screwed shut to try to ward off the waves of sickening agony, he opens his mouth to shout, but nothing comes out*
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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* "Quick, get 'im over there!"

"He a copper?!"

"Stop babblin' an' gimme a hand 'ere!"

Gene is dragged from the hall by two of the men, both swearing in hushed voices. The third glances at the spot Gene's been inspecting, then follows the other two. With some difficulties - Gene is taller than the two who are dragging him - they hoist Gene onto a chair (which doesn't really deserve to be called a chair anymore). They then proceed to search the pockets of Gene's coat, suit jacket and trousers, finally producing his warrant card.

"Bloody 'ell. A copper." The speaker, the smallest of them with barely any hair left on his head, seems close to panicking. "What do we do?!"

The man who clubbed Gene over the head - tall, easily towering over Gene - casts a look around, spotting piles of cloth in one corner. " 'ere, gimme yer knife for a sec." Moments later, he's cut off a long strip of it, and while the third accomplice has proceeded to securily tie Gene to the chair using coarse rope, the tall one now moves in to blindfold him.

"Why don't we just do 'im in?!" the third man hisses, a fellow with an ever-shifting gaze.

" 'Cos we've already got enough trouble at 'and!" the tall one retorts just as angrily. "After the thing with Barry we don't need a dead copper on top o' that!" *
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Gene Hunt
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*Still majorly disorientated by the blow to the head, Gene's not really aware of anything at all until his blurred vision's suddenly blacked out, the rough material pressing tightly against his eyes. Their speech rattles uselessly in his ears, until the words 'dead copper'. At that, he tries to bark out a threat, but it tumbles out of his mouth as a cough instead.

On second try, he manages to croak* Y-You... You weren't meant to... *coughs* be 'ere...
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The men turn to him, and one retorts, "Well, neither was you, pig!"

"Speakin' of," the tallest man suddenly closes in on Gene, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and pulling him as close as the ropes allow, "what's yer business 'ere, eh?"

"Let's just get rid of 'im!" urged the third man.

"Will you shut it! If we kill 'im, they'll be onto us like flies on shite!" The tallest man shakes Gene as the latter fails to answer right away. " 's not like we can't afford to chop off an arm or two though, so get talkin', an' be quick about it. Why'd you come 'ere?!"*
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Gene Hunt
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*head spinning and lungs burning, Gene tries to shout back. He's blind and tied down - not exactly the best position to be in when making threats, but he needs to do something. The others know where he is, so eventually someone'll come and find him.... But what he's worried about is just how many bits of him will be missing when they do. He needs to keep them talking... Try to find out anything about them, since he's not seen their faces. He's fairly sure they're the bastards CID's been trying to catch for weeks now - the ones who'd caused the factory to be closed in the first place. He'd not thought they'd be stupid enough to come back to the scene of the crime! Time to try some leading questions, see if he can confirm it.*

*Coughs, his voice rough and tense* Why I came here's pretty bloody clear, innit!? When someone's been hacked up like yesterday's beef in the middle of a working factory, it tends to turn a few heads!

The real question is, what sort of thick wallies break into the crime scene they helped create!? What was it, one o'you left your dole book 'ere by mistake?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The man holds his grip on Gene's lapels for several seconds, remaining silent, before suddenly releasing him.

" 'e doesn't know."

"What if 'e's lyin'?!"

"Not in the position ter be doin' that, is 'e." However, the man flexed his fingers, and then lashed out, his fist colliding with the side of Gene's face. "The 'thick wallies' 're gonna smash yer face in if ye don't be'ave, copper."

"Somene's been 'acked up? What's 'e talkin' about?" the third man chimed in, nervously.

"Murder, 'appened 'ere few weeks back. Got nothin' to do with us."

"You sure? What about--"

"Shut it you moron!!"*
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Gene Hunt
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*reels sideways as something (probably a fist, judging from the knuckle-like bumps) smashes into his face. Without his eyes, he can't even anticipate where the punches are coming from.

The blow leaves his ears ringing, but he definitely hears those last two lines. Aha - bingo! These are the guys alright... But they're planning something else, apparently. Gene just wishes he could see their faces.... Or raise his hand to his face or something....

He flexes his jaw experimentally, noting the heavy ache with dismay. It hurts... But he's gotten what he wanted out of them. Trying to not give off an air of smugness, he sits up in his chair and turns his head back to face the front*

I sense dissention in the ranks. What's the matter, your goons too much for you? *listens, hoping to pinpoint the leader*
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Sam Tyler
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*as a reply, Gene gets another punch, this time to the other side of his face. Then, he turns to his accomplices.

"We're done 'ere. 'e said it before - 'e didn't expect us. They ain't onto us yet."

"Yeah, but..." The nervous one again. " 'e's talked to us now. Shouldn't we..."

"Oh for Christ's sake. NO. We leave 'im 'ere. 'e 'asn't seen our faces, got no idea 'oo we are."

"You sure...?" The nervous one glances at Gene, stepping closer. "That thing really not see-through?"

"Even if it is, no way is it enough ter recognize us. Told ya, we're done 'ere." The tall one turns to leave.

"So we jus' leave 'im." The small one was talking, his voice deep and rough.

"Yeah. Someone'll find 'im, eventually. And if not... well, ain't our fault if 'e starves or freezes."

The nervous one glances back at his colleagues, then looks at Gene again. Finally, he spits to the side. "Bah. I don't like this. Should get rid of 'im..." He draws back his arm and buries his fist in Gene's gut with a quick punch. "Remember that, copper. If ye come after us..." He leaves the sentence unfinished, the threat clear in his voice. Then, he turns to leave together with the two other men.*
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Gene Hunt
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*The second punch to the face splits Gene's lip and send stars exploding in front of his blindfolded eyes. He shivers once, the sensation of the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth completely overridden by the horrendous headache now throbbing in the centre of his brain. So they're not fans of comedy. Good to know.

He won't starve to death. Sam'll find him. He tugs on the ropes that hold him, furiously. Sam'll find him before he starves. He can last long enough without food. It's the cold he's worried about. The cold he can feel seeping into his bare skin, through and under the layers of his clothing now he can't move to keep warm. He's already sniffing every few minutes..... This isn't exactly going to help much now, is it. Still, he should be grateful that they're not about to blow his brains out all over the factory floor, eh?

With no warning for the gut-punch, Gene doesn't have time to tense his muscles and the fist sinks deep into his stomach. He lurches forward as far as the ropes will allow, gasping through a raw throat desperately for air. Tears spring to his eyes, but with the blindfold on, nobody but him can tell.

Above his convuslive gulps, Gene hears the footsteps walking away and realises they're about to leave him alone. Dammit, he'd hoped they'd still be here when backup eventually arrived - clearly it was too much to hope they'd be caught redhanded (literally). Still, he can give it one last ditch attempt...*

*shouts in a choked voice, trying to aim it in the direction of the footsteps - He's unsure whether anyone's still within earshot, but.... It's worth a punt....* You p-pissin' off, then? Oh goody... Got enough earache w-without you spoutin' cliches all m-morning...
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*The nervous man makes as if to turn around and come back at Gene, but the tallest one yanks him back roughly, shaking his head. They walk away, the sound of their footsteps receeding quickly. Then, there's a very faint crashing noise - probably the entrqnce door of the factory falling shut. Gene is absolutely alone now.

Back in the present....

Sam has found an entrance, but it's locked. Cursing, he jogs around the building, searching for a side door... And lucky, he finds it quickly. Noting that there are fresh traces of footsteps on the frosty ground, he pushes it open and steps into the building, his breath puffing up in white clouds infront of his nose. His eyes roaming around, watchful for any sign of life, he makes his way further into the factory - and flinches when the door he used falls shut with an audible BANG.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene swallows worriedly as there's no retort, only the sound of footsteps retreating. The crash of the door closing settles like a bowling ball in Gene's stomach. He's all alone now... No food, no water, no warmth. Great.

He takes a few moments to let the waves of pain ebb away slightly, until he's sure he can move without it jabbing back ten times worse. With his senses taken away, he has no choice but to turn his attention inwards, to the throbbing in his face and the rolling ache in his gut. The ropes are tight, and he gives up trying to struggle free after a while, ropeburn becoming more of an issue than he'd counted on. All by himself it's eerily quiet sat in the middle of the large room, and it makes him feel uneasy and far more isolated than he'd like. This building's enormous, like a giant tomb. Even if someone comes looking for him, will they find him in this giant concrete maze? He was too out of it when he was dragged away to even know where he is within the structure. It's not like he can even try to stand up and waddle out while tied to the chair - he can't see a thing. Any attempt at doing that would probably result in a broken leg as well as everything else. And it's cold. Bloody cold. He's sure his breath'd be coming out in white clouds, if he could see it.

Slowly and gradually, Gene's struggles cease and his remaining energy dips. He's shivering slightly, he can tell. The blood on his lip has long since dried, and he's feeling oddly sleepy. With no outside stimulation, it feels like he's floating. Like he's not even tied to the chair any more. The quiet almost feels like a blanket, now - wrapped around him like a duvet. There's no way of knowing how long he's been sat here... Long enough for his mouth to go dry and his thirst to rise, anyway. He swallows dryly, feeling his chin knock the top of his chest.

A muffled bang from somewhere sends a bolt of surprise through Gene, and jumps a bit in his chair. Heart beating fast and an odd shivery hot feeling spreading inside of him, Gene pauses. What the hell was that? He tries to stand, but then realises he can't. Gripped by indecision, Gene tries to weigh up his options, but he can't get a hold on his thoughts. What if it's Sam? Or backup? Then again.... What if it's those bastards come back to finish him off? Unable to properly sort out his mind he listens to his gut. And his gut tells him to make a noise. Trying to get as much moisture into his mouth as possible, Gene rasps out a word*

H-Hello??
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*as the bang from the door echoes through the factory, Sam turns sharply. Did he just hear...? He thinks he heard a voice... but it was faint, far away. It might as ell have been wishful thinking. Standing still, he strains his ears. If there's anyone there, they must have been roused by the sound of the door falling shut...

... but no, almost a minute passes, and he hears nothing whatsoever. This gives Sam courage, but also makes his heart sink. If Gene were conscious, surely he would have made some noise at least...

Sam hesitates another second, before shaking his head and trusting his gut feeling.*

*calls out, his voice carrying well through the empty factory*

Guv! Are you here somewhere?! Gene!
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Gene Hunt
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*An echo.... That voice... That voice! Sam!

Gene breathes a large sigh of relief, the action triggering another cough. He struggles for a second to get control of his breathing, and then shouts as loudly as he can, voice wavering in the middle*

Tyler!! Here, I'm... *coughs*... right 'ere!
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Sam Tyler
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*...! So he had been right before!*

Guv! *Blowing any caution into the windm, Sam starts to walk, then jog towards the general direction of Gene's voice, his heart beating hard. That didn't sound like the way Gene usually was - loud, boisterous. He thought he'd heard a faint cough... God, what if part of the building collapsed?! Sam speeds up, and finally reaches the large hall, containing the crime scene with the blood splatter. Sam slows down as he reaches it, turning around. There's several doors to each side of the hall... Gene could be behind any of them.*

Guv?! Where are you!?
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Gene Hunt
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*Blood roaring in his ears and pumped with adrenaline, Gene shouts again. His voice comes out quieter than he'd intended, and it's ruining his throat, but... Sam's voice is getting closer, he can feel it...*

In... In 'ere.... You ninny.....

*suddenly Gene realises the state Sam's going to find him in, and he pulls at his wrists again, trying to sit up straighter - but with his shivering and how numb his limbs are from the cold, it's not exactly working...*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam hears Gene's voice again, closer, but at the same time fainter, and his heart starts to race even faster. He does one full 360° turn, trying to determine which direction Gene's voice was coming from - when he spots something on the ground right next to the crime scene. The building stopped being used several weeks back, and even though the murder happened just a few days ago, dust has settled on the ground again, along with a very fine layer of frost.

And in this layer, he sees trails. Sam steps closer. No doubt - those over there are tracks of boots, rather large boots, then there's one spot with hardly any dust or frost... sigs of a scuffle. And then, he sees a track leading away from the crime scene, towards one of the doors.*

... gotcha. *he runs towards that door, yanking it open, and races down a long narrow hallway, which after a few seconds that seem like a life time lead him into a room...

... and there he spots Gene. Sam stops in his tracks.*

... Jesus.
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Gene Hunt
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*Sam's footsteps echo off the walls, and Gene holds his breath, listening as closely as he can. Oh thank god, the footsteps are getting louder. And there it is - Sam's horrified curse. And however much Sam's pause makes him worry for what hos face must now look like, it's overtaken completely by the relief of being found, finally.*

*speaks in the general direction he's guessing Sam to be in* Took... Took yer time, didn't you!
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Sam Tyler
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*If Gene's looks hadn't already rattled Sam, the sound of his voice - raspy and faint - definitely did the trick. Within a moment, he's by Gene's side, undoing the blindfold as fast as he can.*

Jesus Christ, Gene... *bruises on his face, blood on his lips... and his fingers having brushed Gene's forehead as he worked on the blindfold, Sam had noticed that his skin was unnaturally hot. His heart is beating up his throat as he kneels down next to Gene, patting his coat pockets for a pocket knife to cut up the ropes with.*

What 'appened?!
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Gene Hunt
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*blinks as the blindfold's lifted, his eyes adjusting to the light. It's still dark in the factory, but his eyes are bleary and unfocussed after being covered for so long. After a few seconds, he manages to lock his eyes onto Sam. And he'd never say it out loud, but seeing Sam there, rummaging for a knife to free him.... Sam looks like the most beautiful thing in the world.

Pulling at his bonds even before Sam manages to find anything to cut them with, Gene rasps out bitterly* What happened? Bastards jumped me like.... ruddy ninja kangaroos. Didn't even... know they were there 'til me brains were rattlin' about... *swallows uncomfortably, his face a grimace*

Didn't happen to bring a-any water, by any... chance?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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Hold still, yer cutting up your wrists badly enough already! *finally produces a knife and immediately starts sawing away at the ropes, careful not to hurt Gene any further in the process. As Gene tells his story, Sam's growing more and more worried. For his DCI not to notice thugs creeping up on him... Annie had told him that Gene apparently had the sniffles, but it really must've been worse than he was letting on in front of the team.

Finally, he's cut through all the ropes and is pulling them away, before moving in front of Gene again.*

Sorry, none. But we're getting you out of here... *puts his hand to Gene's forehead, and sucks in breath* Christ, but you're burning up. We've got to get you to 'ospital, if you've caught pneumonia 'ere... *he doesn't even want to calculate just how long Gene must've been here already... Forcing the thought out of his mind, Sam drops his hand to Gene's shoulder.*

Can you stand?
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Gene Hunt
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Hospital? P-piss off, m'fine... *raises his sore wrists, clinging onto Sam's jacket with both hands - if he's going to stand, he's gonna need some help...*

... Lessee, shall we? Haven't t-tried in.... How l-long's it been, anyway?
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Sam Tyler
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*as Gene grabs his jacket, Sam reflexively grabs Gene's arms from below, helping him to stand up. Christ, he's heavy.... and weak. Sam grits his teeth as he prepares to take most of Gene's weight. He hesitates, not quite sure whether or not he should answer that question, but Gene's going to insist anyway, so...*

... 5 hours, I'd say. Give or take.
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Gene Hunt
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*Five hours??*

Christ...

*shivers violently a couple of times and grips onto Sam for support. He's not sure how long he's gonna be able to stay standing for...*

We'd better g-get moving... Me pegs're about as stable as warm c-curly wurlies...
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Sam Tyler
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*shuffles closer and moves slighty, so that he's able to slide one arm around Gene's back, to be able to support him better. They need to get out, get Gene somewhere warm, fast...*

Yeah. C'mon, step by step, that's it... *tries to coax Gene into taking a few steps. The faster they get out of here, the better... Not only does he need to warm up, but he definitely needs to be checked for concussion as well... Almost unconsciously, Sam starts to rub Gene's back, to get at least a little bit of warmth back to his body*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene slips an arm over Sam's shoulders and lets Sam lead him towards the door. His balance is off, but by using Sam as a crutch, he's able to stay fairly upright. His chest feels tight and his whole body feels shivery all of a sudden - he's hot. Why is he hot? It was freezing just a moment ago.... Maybe it's the headache, screwing with his body temperature.*

Don' have to... t-talk to me like I'm a b-bleedin' toddler....
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam can feel Gene shivering against him, and it makes his throat go tight. Shit. Gene's not supposed to be like that... Gene is indestructible...

... except he isn't. Sam has to remind himself of that fact.

They're out of the door now and moving down the hallway. Sam does his best to support Gene properly, but that really isn't an easy task when Gene is leaning on him heavily like that.*

*tries to smile* You do always act like a big baby, though. *they take the corner, now reaching the large hall.* Alright?
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Gene Hunt
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Oh, yeah... Just.... peachy.... *coughs and raises his free hand to his forehead, still leaning on Sam*

*tries to clear his throat, fighting off a wave of sudden lightheadedness* Jesus.... S'there any water... in the car?
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Sam Tyler
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*bites his lower lip - if only he'd known... but how was he to know?*

... no. I'm sorry. You'll 'ave to wait a bit longer...

*they cross the hall. Luckily, Sam still remembers which way he came from...*

We're nearly there, Guv... just a few more steps. *he's starting to get out of breath as well, not being used to carrying Gene for such a distance. Heck, not used to carrying Gene at all!*

I'll... I'll get you straight to the hospital... and no objections.
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Gene Hunt
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*No, not the hospital.... He just needs a drink and a lie down and... Maybe some painkillers... After his hellish morning, the last thing he wants is to be poked and prodded by nurses, stuck with needles and woken up every hour to check his brains aren't falling out. He just wants to get home for some shut-eye. And some water. That's all he needs...*

N-not going to hospital. M'fine. Just.... Need a lie down....

*Christ, why does he feel so awful? All it was was a few punches and a while sat in the cold.... He shouldn't be feeling this raw-throated or shivery... Or this hot...*
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Sam Tyler
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*firmly* I said, no objections. *they've left the hall now - just a few more metres, and they'll be at the exit...!*

You're not fine, you need to be checked up. *readjusts his grip on Gene's arm around his neck and on Gene's back as they limp on, until they finally reach the door. With some difficulties, Sam shoulders it open, and they step out into the waning light of a cold winter afternoon. Sam steers Gene towards the car he came with - the Cortina will have to stay here. Sam's car should still be warm from the drive here, and warmth is what Gene needs right now, desperately... If only he could use pre-heating...

It occurs to Sam that even though he isn't touching Gene's skin directly, he can still feel the heat radiating off him. Sam swallows. Not good, definitely not good...*
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Gene Hunt
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*grumbles at Sam's firm words, the rumble in his throat turning into a hacking cough* Spoilsport....

*reaches out a hand to grab onto the car when they reach it. Blinking against the brighter light of day, Gene stares at the paintwork under his fingers*

Where's my c-car?
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Sam Tyler
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Gladys
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*fumbling for the keys* Over there. *nods in that direction* Don't worry, nobody's touched it. But what you need now is warmth, and the Cortina is a bloody fridge at the moment. We're taking this one. *opens the door and does his best to help Gene sit down* That's it, easy does it...
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Gene Hunt
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*drops into the seat, his legs not wanting to support him any more. He gathers his coat around himself and hugs his arms across his chest, unsure on whether he wants to turn the heating on or open a window*

*suddenly realises something - he has a hipflask in his pocket! Fluids!

With a sense of urgency, Gene dips a trembling hand into his coat and produces it. It's definitely not water in there... More like top brand Scotch. But it's still a liquid! Frowning in concentration, he starts to attempt to unscrew the lid*
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Sam Tyler
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*Christ, Gene looks utterly lost like this. Sam leans down and starts rubbing Gene's arms, throwing all caution to the wind. Even if he's going to complain, or punch Sam for it later, he needs to help him warm up...!

Sam draws back as Gene reaches for his hipflask, and for a moment battles with himself - the alcohol will probably warm him up, but when he hasn't eaten or drunk anything for several hours...! But no, warming up is more urgent now, so he reaches out and takes the flask from Gene's hand, easily unscrewing the lid and handing it back to his DCI without a word.*
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Gene Hunt
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*takes the flask as Sam offers it back and tips some whisky into his mouth. It burns almost more than Gene can bare, his mouth and throat being as dry as they are. Washing the liquid around his mouth is a relief though. The swallowing less so. He splutters as it sets his sore throat on fire, but manages to get it down, the moisture very welcome. It doesn't quench his fevered thirst, but it's something.*

Ugh... Taa....

Now let's g-get out of 'ere...?
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Sam Tyler
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*As Gene takes a sip of the whisky, Sam stands by his side for a moment longer, and in that moment, he simply doesn't know how to deal with the situation. He's simply not used to it - his DCI being the completely helpless one. It wasn't that bad even whenhe was accused of murder...

But then, the moment passes, and Sam closes the door on Gene's side of the car and walks over to the driver's side, sitting down and starting the engine. He nods at Gene's question even as he starts to reverse, and a second later they're already driving away from the building with a speed that is unusual, considering Sam's usually careful driving.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene closes his eyes and sinks down a bit in the seat as Sam drives, arms hugged around himself against the shivers. The motion of the car seems odd to him, but for a moment he's not sure whether it's just his sense of balance, or whether Sam's actually speeding. Sam doesn't usually drive even one mile above the speed limit (or 'speed recommendation', as Gene likes to call it)*

*Mumbles* What, you l-leave the iron on or somethin'? *almost laughs a little, but the air coming up disturbs his throat and triggers a light cough instead*
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Sam Tyler
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*as they drive, Sam reaches out and turns up the heating as much as he can, hoping it will kick in sooner rather than later. He's even considering whether getting Gene to the hospital is a good idea... Maybe he should just get him home and warmed up.

He gives little more than a quirk of his lip at Gene's remark, glancing at his Guv*

How's your 'ead? Hurtin'?

*If it isn't too bad, maybe... maybe getting Gene home would be better indeed... The fever is probably just from the cold... But no, Gene needs to be checked up, he can't take any risks. He won't take any risks, not with his DCI, not with Gene...

Sam's fingers clench around the driving wheel and he turns the corner viciously. If anyone dares stop him, he'll yell at them that it's a bloody police emergency.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Makes an uncomfortable noise - his head's painful. Bound to be, after being battered like a fresh cod. But what's really killing him is the thirst, the all-over aches and pains, and the ice-hot feeling raging away inside. The daylight seems too bright, as well...* Mmpph..... Feels like the BFG's been usin' it as a maraca.

*opens one eye, squinting at Sam blearily while keeping the other one covered, protected from the white light outside* What 'appened to yer... old g-granny driving?
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Sam Tyler
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*snorts lightly* Well, can't be too bad if you're still crackin' jokes. *Still, he chances another glances, and what he sees causes his chest to constract painfully. He catches Gene's look, and averts his gaze back on the road. He can already see the hospital up ahead... Good...*

It's an emergency. 'sides, I'm not breaking any rules or endangering pedestrians. Just using the upper half of the, ah... speed recommendation.
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Gene Hunt
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*actually laughs at Sam adopting his phrase, but it doesn't last, cut off shortly as his headache spikes and a cough rises*

L-last time I checked, the flu didn't c-count as.... an emergency...
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Sam Tyler
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*glances worriedly at Gene as he coughs*

This isn't just a simple flu, Gene. An' you've been knocked about good on top of that...

*they pull up to the hospital, and Sam makes sure to park as closely to the entrance as he can. And then he's out of the car already and by Gene's side, opening the door and holding out a hand, ready to help him out. He really doesn't like how his DCI sounds, it's too.... weak. He might even need infusions of sorts, what with the dehydration...*
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Gene Hunt
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*grumbles* I could've beaten 'em.... If I didn't have the s-sneezes...

*looks at Sam's hand through squinted eyes, reluctant to accept any help. He's just a bit sick, that's all.... And he has a fair old bump on his head and a few bruises, but... surely that's not enough to warrant the hospital.

Sadly though, as he swings his legs out of the car and tries to stand, he finds himself suddenly off balance and clutching at Sam's offered hand anyway*

*grabs Sam's arm with his other hand just in case* Ngghh....
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*smiles fleetingly* 'course.

*He's been prepared to take most of Gene's weight, so he's got no troubles remaining upright as Gene grabs his arm, steadying the man with both his hands* Alright, easy does it... *re-adjusts his position so that one of his arms slides below Gene's shoulder and around his back, steadying him properly. Sometimes, it IS handy that he's a tad smaller than Gene... this shouldn't be too uncomfortable with him.

Sam tries to gently nudge Gene forward, towards the entrance of the hospital.* C'mon Guv, just a few steps now.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene accepts Sam's help, letting him drag him towards the hospital - it's embarrassing, but... Sam's made up his mind. And the sooner they get in there the sooner he can leave. Huffing with both irritation and effort, Gene walks on towards the doors with Sam*

*gruffly* I know, I c'n see it. M'not blind.
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Sam Tyler
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*using his free hand, Sam pushes open the door, letting them both into the hospital*

Really? Could've fooled me.

*as Sam looks up, his gaze settles on the nurse at the reception desk.* Excuse me, hello! *The woman looks up, noticing the two, and she rolls her eyes. She knows these two coppers, especially the large one - a troublemaker, that one...

As they come closer, Sam ignores the nurse's attitude* DCI Hunt here needs to get checked up for hypothermia, maybe pneumonia, and possibly a concussion. Long story.

*The nurse regards them with a wry 'of course'-look, and points them to the waiting area, saying that a doctor would be with them shortly. And so Sam steers them towards the chairs, helping Gene sit down in one of them. He doesn't like the fact that Gene's condition is being taken so lightly here...*
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Gene Hunt
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*mutters as Sam helps him into a chair* I know that bird. Grumpy cow's got it in for me. That or sh-she's bowled over by my m-magnificent form. *coughs*

*sinks down in the chair, wrapping his coat around him more firmly. He feels like absolute shit, that's true... But he still isn't keen to see a doctor. He'll let himself be poked with needles if it's going to save his life, but he won't be remotely happy about it, and it'll show.*

*is suddenly overcome with another stab from his headache and a wave of thirst, flopping a hand up to limply thwap Sam in the chest* You gonna g-go get me some water, or what?
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Sam Tyler
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You make friends everywhere you go, don't you, Guv... *Sam forces himself to smirk - at least Gene is coherent enough to make his usual jibes, that's got to count for something...

He straightens back up even as Gene thwaps him, directing the hit at his belly rather than his chest* Oi! I haven't managed to clone myself yet, y'know! *nonetheless, Sam hurries off, as he had planned anyway. When he returns, he's holding a cup in each hand, and one in the crook of his arm. He hands the first one down to Gene* Drink it slowly.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene reaches up, clumsily grabbing the cup and then tipping the water back into his mouth with an air of urgency. He gulps it down fast enough to make him splutter halfway through, but he keeps going. It cools his sore throat and wets his dry mouth, dampening the ice-fire in his chest a little. As soon as he's finished it starts to rise up again though, so Gene holds the first empty cup out with a cough, meaning for Sam to take it.*
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Sam Tyler
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*Oh Christ. Of course Gene wouldn't drink it slowly. Sam positions himself so that he can pat Gene's back should it be necessary. He takes the now-empty cup and immediately replaces it with a full one again. Hopefully this really well help.... Sam is itching to reach out and touch Gene's forehead again, to check his temperature, but for one his hands are full and for another he thinks Gene probably wouldn't really appreciate it. In public, like.

As soon as Gene demands it, Sam holds out the final cup of water, ready to head off to get another few. There's still no sign of a doctor, or anyone calling out for them, and he can feel anger bubble up in his chest. Those are the times when he wishes medical care was on the same level as it will have been in 2006.......*
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Gene Hunt
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*drains the last cup with gusto, breaking off at the end to regain his breath. Being able to swallow moisture again is a nice feeling, though hours and hours in a dehydrated and sick body without any water means whatever he does swallow sits heavily in his stomach.

Unlike Sam, Gene's used to the archaic ways of 70's hospitals, and he's fully prepared to be left to his own devices until a doctor arrives. It doesn't mean he's happy about it, though - and he's sore and shivery enough to make it well known.*

*groans* Ugh... If I die in 'ere, you're to make sure my headstone's watered with whiskey twice a day....
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Sam Tyler
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*as Gene empties the last cup, Sam leaves his side for a moment to get another two cups. He comes back just in time to hear Gene's groan.*

Don't be stupid, you're not gonna die 'ere... *extends one cup to Gene, should he want some more, and once again looks around to see whether anyone is approaching them, but no such luck.* What the bloody 'ell is taking 'em so long...! *indeed, there's no other patients around, and the general buzz of activity doesn't suggest any sorts of emergencies.*
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Gene Hunt
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*takes the cup gratefully in his shaky hands and begins to sip at it, slower this time. The water may have done wonders for the terrible thirst, but it's sadly not doing much for the rest of his aches and pains. Taking a break from the water for a second, Gene reaches up clumsily and wipes at the dried blood around his cut lip with the back of his hand*

*clears his throat hoarsely* Probably d-don't wanna get coughed on.
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*growls* By the looks of it, yeah. *looks down to see Gene wipe at the dried blood in his face, and starts rummaging for a handkerchief in his pockets. Miraculously producing an unused one, he holds it out to Gene.* 'ere.
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*senses the handkerchief in front of him and grabs it grumpily. He winces when the rougher surface of the fabric touches the cut, but it comes away satisfyingly red. At least it's doing the job, he thinks.

Once done, he scrunches the material up in his hand and folds his arms around himself, closing his eyes against the raging headache and letting the lower half of his face disappear inside the upturned lapels of his coat. The darkness helps, and it's difficult to keep holding his head up. Maybe... Maybe he could just have a snooze for a bit...*

*mumbles sleepily* Wake me up when th-the doc... decides to show 'is.... face.
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam has been looking over to the reception, but upn hearing Gene's voice he looks back down.*

! Oh, no, no no no, don't do this to me. No, Gene, you can't sleep, not yet.... *crouches down half-way and puts his hands on Gene's shoulders, rubbing them up and down, careful to not disturb any possible injuries* If you really have a concussion, you can't... and with the cold...! *turns back to the reception, noticing that the nurse is looking at them, and his anger boils over* WILL YOU GET A BLOODY DOCTOR OVER HERE ALREADY?!

*the nurse jumps, clearly not having expected the likes of Sam getting shouty like this. Without a word of complaint, she hurries off.*
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Gene Hunt
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*screws his face up in displeasure as Sam jostles him around - the rubbing on his shoulders is warming and making him more alert, but he doesn't want to be alert right now. He feels too crap for that. He just wants to sleep until it's over. Until his head isn't trying to break into bits and until his tonsils shrink back down to their normal size.*

*Gene lazily bats at Sam, trying to get him to stop, murmuring* G-go 'way an' leave me 'lone.
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*No luck, Gene, Sam's not giving up. He continues rubbing, and really has to stop short from actually hugging Gene to get some warmth back into him.* No, I'm the resident picky-pain, I have to keep bothering you.

*glances over his shoulder again, and - thank god, someone's approaching them, someone wearing the trademark white coat of a doctor.*

*hisses* About bloody time. *straightens up, keeping a protective hand on Gene's shoulder, to keep him from nodding off. By now, the man has reached them, looking first at Sam, then at Gene. "Well well, DCI Hunt. What seems to be amiss?" Clearly, he isn't taking this as seriously as Sam is. Sam's eyes narrow dangerously*

Shivers, probably pneumonia, dehydration, possible concussion. Is that enough to warrant a proper examination, or do we need to add a case of swine flu to actually get your attention?
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Gene Hunt
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*The doctor gives Sam a confused look. "Swine what? You can't be calling me a pig, sir. Abuse will not be tolerated." With a slight frown, the doctor leans down to study what he can see of Gene's face. A moment later he straightens, beckoning to them both. "Alright, follow me."

Not hearing a word the doctor says, Gene keeps his eyes closed and leans into Sam's touch slightly, the heavy hand on his shoulder surprisingly comforting. Everything that's happening is just swirling past him, leaving him behind*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam snorts and shakes his head once the doctor isn't looking at him. He isn't normally this impatient, but for God's sake...!*

Right.

*leans down moves his hands to Gene's shoulders again, patting him lightly.* C'mon Guv. Let's get you up... Guv? *he hopes Gene can hear him... Frankly though, it doesn't look like it - and that frightens Sam.* ... Guv. Doctor's orders. *attempts to help him out of the chair*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene groans lightly as Sam rouses him from his almost-sleep, trying to turn away from the hands patting him, jostling him about, making him uncomfortable. But at the worried sound of Sam's voice, Gene has to open his eyes. his unfocused gaze finds Sam's face in front of him, and he blinks.* Wha.....?

*the message clicks in his brain finally, and he gets it.* Ugh... Fine.... *unfolds his arms and tries to stand, wobbling a little but just about managing*
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Sam Tyler
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*swallows hard, and then something in his face settles.* C'mon, up you get. *He's banned all fear and worry from his voice, and is doing his best to support Gene as he stands up and sways for a moment. Together, with the doctor walking in front of them, they move to one of the examination rooms, finally getting some privacy. The doctor directs them towards one of the typical hospital beds, before moving off to get the tools he needs for the examination.

Sam helps Gene sit down, his hand never leaving his DCI's back.* There we go.
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene's huffing and puffing a bit by the time he gets to the bed, and he gratefully sinks down onto it with Sam's help. It's a lot of effort to keep sitting upright without anything to lean back on, and Gene's almost considering just laying down fully of his own accord, but a moment later the doctor's back with a few various tools and needley things.

The doctor potters for a second, laying out the various instruments on the trolley at the end of the bed, before turning to them both and asking with an irritating cheerfulness, "Okay. Who's going to tell me what exactly happened?" He looks to Sam. "I'm presuming you're the one who brought him in?"
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Sam Tyler
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*grits his teeth for a moment, before nodding. He presses his hand against Gene's back a bit more firmly, just to reassure him he's still there - and to keep himself from balling his fingers into a fist.*

That's correct. *takes a breath* From the looks of it, DCI Hunt 'ere has spent... *does a quick calculation*... roughly 6 hours in an unheated warehouse. He was restrained and thus unable to move and keep himself warm... And from the looks of it someone found it appropriate to use his head as a punching bag, but I'm sure you already realized that from your thorough examination before, doctor.
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*The doctor frowns at Sam, not liking his tone very much. "No need to snap, sir. I need to ask so I know how best to go about examining the patient."

He turns his attention then to Gene, who's sitting with his eyes closed again, looking very sorry for himself. His fringe is sticking to his forehead in places, and he's pale and shivery as anything. The doctor places a hand firmly on his forehead. "Hmm, there's a definite temperature, there. A fever'll help along dehydration." He turns to Sam again. Have you given him anything since he left this warehouse?"*

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Sam Tyler
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*Battles the urge to cross his arms. That'd mean to let go of Gene's back. But finally, finally he's being examined properly...

Sam bites back another snidy remark.* Yes. Several cups of water, just a couple of minutes ago. Four, maybe five. That temperature... could that be due to a concussion? *That's his biggest worry at the moment... Gene really doesn't need a concussion paired with a hefty flu, if not pneumonia...*
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*"Hmm. Well a concussion certainly won't have helped the temperature, but it's unlikely to the sole cause - I'm going to assume he was feeling under the weather before the period of time spent immobile in low temperatures?"

With quick hands, the doctor moves his attention from Gene's forehead to Gene's throat glands, feeling around just under both sides of his jawbone. "Hmmmm."

He takes his hands back and wipes them on his coat. Apparently hygiene isn't the biggest priority here. "I'm going to shine a light in his eyes, which he probably won't like. Hear that, DCI Hunt?" He leans in to Gene and taps him on the shoulder. "I need you to open your eyes for me!"

Grumpily, Gene obeys sluggishly, sending both the doctor and Sam deathglares. Opening his eyes means his headache explodes, don't they get that by now?? But despite his complete exhaustion and irritation, he's still very grateful for the touch of Sam's hand on his back. It's reassuring in a way Gene didn't think he'd need.*

*coughs* You're g-gonna do what, now?
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Yes, apparently. Before that it was a light cold. *despite his irritation with the doctor, Sam can feel something like relief spreading. If it's not a concussion... Hopefully the doctor is right...

... Though, after he's wiped his hands on his coat, the man loses a hefty amount of trust points with Sam. Not that there were many to begin with.

When Gene opens his eyes and glares first at Sam, then the doctor, Sam can't help but pull an apologetic grimace at Gene. He knows the procedure isn't exactly fun, but it's necessary... He's not going to take any risks. Not with Gene. Without even noticing, his hand is starting to slowly rub Gene's back.*

He'll 'ave to check your eyes, with a light. It'll be over in a bit...

*The doctor, the tiny torch in his hand already, is moving in. "This might not be nice, but I need you to focus on me, please..." He shines the light first at Gene's left eye, then the right one, not as fast as he could have, but he doesn't seem to be taking unnecessary time either... But who knows how it must feel to Gene...*
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*each flash of the light feels like a stab in the brain, and he instinctively flinches away after each eye is inspected. His vision smeared by the dancing lights now imprinted in his sight, Gene raises his hands to his face and covers his eyes, rubbing them uncomfortably. He just wants to curl up and go to sleep, and he makes this known with an angry and pathetic sounding moan.* S'that it, now??

*The doctor places the torch back on the trolley and studies Gene for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Once his mind's made up, he turns to Sam. "His pupils are dilating fine, but they're a little sluggish. That could be due to any number of things, but I don't think anything's life-threatening at this stage."

He then leans down to Gene's level. "Mr Hunt? Your friend here says that you were hit about the head. Could you show me where?"*

*Just about ready to give up on life, Gene continues to press his hands into his eyes and slurs* Up y'r arse...
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*winces in sympathy as Gene flinches back and then starts to rub his eyes. There is a slight pang of guilt - it was he who urged Gene to go to hospital to get checked up, but heck, it's necessary... He continues rubbing the man's back soothingly, for all the good it does.*

*nods at the doctor* Right. Good.

*He can't help but smirk slightly at Gene's response to the doctor's question, and at the frown appearing on the man's face. "Mr Hunt, this is for your own good..."*

That's Detective Chief Inspector Hunt. *moves his hand up to rub between Gene's shoulder blades, the edge disappearing from his voice as he talks to him* C'mon Guv. The sooner you give him what he wants, the sooner we can get out of 'ere.
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*Gene sighs again, dropping his hands from his eyes and slumping where he sits* Fine. But only c-cos you asked...

*rubs at the back of his head, feeling about until he finds a large, painful lump. Agh...

Here. R-right on the back. Bloody... *grumbles, letting his words trail off miserably*
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*smiles slightly* Good man. *gently pats Gene's shoulder*

*The doctor leans in to examine the spot Gene is pointing, parting his hair to get a better look at it, and probing at it slightly. Finally, he withdraws, saying "This looks a lot worse than it is. Definitely not life threatening, and it shouldn't be enough to cause a concussion."

Sam feels relief upon hearing this, even though he doesn't quite trust that doctor still.*

And the pneumonia?
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Gene Hunt
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*Looks a lot worse than it is? Good thing the doctor's not in Gene's head, he thinks, or he'd definitely not be saying that. Never mind how bad it is, it feels like shit. Especially now it's been prodded and poked to high heaven...!

Ignoring Gene's angry, pained huffs, the Doctor turns and grabs a stethoscope. "I doubt there's anything to worry about - it looks like any energy his body would've normally used fighting off the cold or virus has been instead used up trying to cope with the head injury and the heat loss, that's all."

He gestures at Gene, looking at Sam. "If you could just undo a couple of buttons I'll listen to his chest, anyway. Since you ask."*
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*And yet more relief. Thank god.

He shoots the doctor a patented Tyler-glare, but still moves to unbutton Gene's shirt. And winces involuntarily as he spots bruises down Gene's abdomen. Christ, but that looks like he really did receive a good kicking...*

Right, so all he needs is rest warmth and liquid, yeah?
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*The doctor also spots the bruises on Gene's front, but doesn't deem them bad enough to inspect - they don't look bad enough for broken ribs. He presses the metal end of the stethoscope to Gene's chest and listens carefully for a few minutes before pulling away completely and answering Sam's question.

"Yes, I'd say so. Rest, warmth... And liquids, yes. He's still quite dehydrated, so keep feeding him the fluids. The fever's going to need it. His chest sounds heavy, but not dangerously so, so I'm happy for him to be released."

he pauses a moment. "That is, if he's got someone to watch him? A wife, or...?"*
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*Straightens back up as well, and still one hand is resting on Gene's shoulder. To be perfectly honest, Sam doesn't quite agree with the doctor - having Gene stay at the hospital for one night might be wiser... But he'd have to argue against both the doctor and Gene there... No, not quite worth the effort... Besides, Sam's been getting the feeling that he can look after Gene just as well as any nurse in this bloody hospital.*

Right. Yes, he does. *squeezes Gene's shoulder* C'mon Guv, let's get you back 'ome, eh? *looks back up at the doctor* Thanks for your... help.
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Gene Hunt
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*The doctor narrows his eyes slightly at Sam's tone, but lets it go without a fuss. "Paracetamol and ibuprofen'll do for the headache, and be sure to keep him from sleeping too long at a time. He's not concussed as far as I can make out, but let's be safe rather than sorry. Okay?"

Not waiting for a response, the doctor turns and leaves, walking off with a slightly irritated air.

Gene watches him go through half lidded eyes, and snorts as much as his heavy lungs will allow. *
G-good riddance.

*fumbles with his open shirt buttons, trying to put them back into place*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam nods, but the doctor is already walking off. Gene's words express his thoughts about the man to the letter. He snorts out a small chuckle before leaning down and buttoning up Gene's shirt, gently batting away Gene's clumsy fingers.*

Yeah. Probably expects us to be grateful too, for making us wait. *slides an arm around Gene's back and under his arm, attempting to help him up.*
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Gene Hunt
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*allows Sam to pull him up, too tired by now to refuse the help. He just wants to fall asleep where he stands - the hard floor's looking more comfortable than a feather bed right now.... But he can't fall over now. The hot feeling he had earlier seems to have dropped to an almost chill-like level, but the shivers continue unhindered*

Well all I'll be g-grateful for... s' a lie down an' a nap... *miserable face*
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Sam Tyler
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*continues to support Gene as they slowly make their way out of the room and towards the reception. This utterly miserable look on his face... Sam can feel his chest tightening painfully. Gene isn't supposed to look this defeated. He's supposed to be standing tall, proclaiming this not much more than a case of sniffles and tell Sam to go to hell if he continues to mollycoddle him...*

You'll get that in a bit, Guv. I'll drive you home. *as they pass the nurse, she gives them a slightly guilty look before looking away. Sam frowns and helps Gene onwards, out of the building. Thinking back to the conversation with the doctor, he remembers something...* The missus still... 'out'? *if she is.... well, Sam will have to look after him, won't he.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene continues to shuffle himself along with Sam, feeling grumpy and sorry for himself. It takes a moment for Sam's question to sink in, and in response he coughs harshly. In his slightly addled and un-focussed state, Gene can't censor himself quick enough, and out slips a slightly raspy, but truthful response.* Yep. P-permanently. *coughs into his fist again and swallows painfully*
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Sam Tyler
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...

*Well. Looks like he'll have to make himself at home at the Hunt estate then... Not that Sam minds, really. He'll be happy to leave his flat for a night... And Gene definitely needs looking after, especially since even that doctor said to wake him up frequently. Sam dreads having to do that, but it's necessary... He breathes a sigh.*

Right. ...'m sorry.

*they've reached the car now, and Sam wrestles open the passenger door to help Gene sit down.*
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*At Sam's apology, Gene huffs out his own sigh. He didn't want Sam to find out this way. Now it looks like he was hiding the fact. Which he was, but... He was going to tell Sam in his own time. Eventually. Maybe.

Gene eases himself into the seat, trying not to move his head around too much. Once in, he leans his head back with a groan, closing his eyes and sinking down in the seat to get comfortable*

*mumbles* Jus' d-drop me off at 'ome?
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Sam Tyler
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*gets into the driver's seat as fast as he can, starting up the engine. He glances at Gene, eyebrows raised.*

No chance am I leaving you alone when you're in this state. *reverses out of the parking lot and drives away from the hospital, at a more reasonable speed this time. Now that he knows Gene isn't in imminent danger...* I'll 'ave to wake you up a few times, to really rule out the possibility of a concussion...
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Gene Hunt
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*opens one eye and squints at Sam, processing this. He knows what he's like when he's ill... And he knows how much of a handful he can be. He's been told by many before - his parents, his wife... And he does feel incredibly crap right now. Most people'd run for the hills if they could, when faced with babysitting a sick Gene Hunt. But not Sam. And that makes his heart feel warm.*

*hoarsely* Yer r-really not gonna piss off?
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Sam Tyler
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*keeps his eyes trained on the road, but gives a little smile*

'course not. Big baby like you needs lookin' after.

*It's a bit odd, how protective Sam feels of Gene... but then again, Gene is a major reason for him having come back to the 70s in the first place, and he'll be damned if he'll let anything serious happen to him.*
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Gene Hunt
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*Gene feels the warmth spread inside him as Sam gives his answer, and he ducks his head in response, sinking half his face into the upturned collar of his coat. Shivering and fevered, bruised and exhausted, but knowing he's not gonna be left all by himself, Gene's mouth twitches. He's been sat by himself alone for an entire half day, and however 'Dorothy' it is, he's craving the company. And what better company could there be.

Quietly and shakily, Gene murmurs* .... Thanks.
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Sam Tyler
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*looks at Gene silently, then concentrates on the road again, his smile widening for a moment* Don't mention it.

*Luckily, Sam remembers the way to Gene's home, so he doesn't have to bother Gene with asking directions of him. However, there's another thing...*

You've got enough food at 'ome? Ingredients for soup, maybe? *if not, Sam will have to nip out for a bit to buy a few things...*
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Gene Hunt
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*sinks lower in the seat, closing both eyes again and huffing, his tonsils throbbing painfully* Ugh... Can't.... Can't remember... M'not a spice hoarder like y-you.

Think there's butter.... M-maybe some onions? H-half a leftover curry....
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Sam Tyler
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*nods* Right.

*that might be enough... He'll just have to have a look himself. And leaving Gene alone for just a couple of minutes should be alright... Sam glances at Gene once more, taking in just how defeated he looks.*

... I'll stop at a shop then for a minute, if you don't mind. I'll leave the motor runnin' so you don't get too cold.
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Gene Hunt
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*nods, brow creased with both the effort it takes to keep his eyes clamped shut and the pain of his unrelenting, stabbing headache.* Fine... D-do wha' y'want.

*Leaving the car running is something Gene probably would've asked for if Sam hadn't mentioned it. The unbearable hot feeling's been replaced with shivery chills, and Gene's not sure which is worse. So he doesn't mention it, pressing his jaw shut and sniffing uncomfortably instead*
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Sam Tyler
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*Sam can't help it, he keeps throwing sideways glances at Gene, getting increasingly worried again. Though it's only to be expected that he'd be feeling like this after what happened, it's still hard for Sam to watch his DCI like this... hopefully he'll be fine again after a resting up...

A few minutes later, they stop by a little food store, and Sam jumps out of the car, eager to get the shopping done fast. And indeed, he does find all the ingredients he needs for a good chicken soup, and is back in the car within a couple of minutes. As he slides into the driver's seat, having dumped the groceries in the backseat before, Sam reaches over and gently touches Gene's shoulder.*

Alright?
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Gene Hunt
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*jumps awake as Sam touches his shoulder, looking over at him with owlish eyes, as if they're getting used to being open again - he must've started to drift off, there...*

Mmmh... Jus' peachy....

*cranes his neck slightly, trying to see where Sam put the bag* What 'dyou... What d'you get?
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Sam Tyler
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*starts up the engine*

Vegetables, some herbs, chicken. Nothing like chicken soup when you're down with a cold. *smiles, putting a lot more cheer into his voice than he actually feels. But there really is no need to pull Gene down any further... So maybe it'll be good for him if Sam doesn't treat him like he's terminally ill.

Sam now takes the fastest path to Gene's home. The sooner Gene can lie down, the better.*
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Gene Hunt
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*That actually sounds.... Really, really nice. Along with everything else making him weak and shaky, he's managed to miss lunch while tied to that chair. And the thought of Sam's soup makes his stomach growl loudly, his insides clenching in sudden hunger along with the thirst.

Swallowing against the feeling, Gene nods once, gratefully* S-sounds bloody... m-marvellous....
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Sam Tyler
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*gives a little grin* Just wait till you've actually tried it. *Sam realizes he's actually looking forward to cooking for Gene. He hasn't made chicken soup in a while, but he'll sure he'll remember the recipe once he actually gets to work.

A few minutes later, Sam pulls up to Gene's home and kills the engine.* Right, here we are then. *gets out of the car and walks over to Gene's side, opening the door.* Let's get you out of 'ere and to bed. *as before, extends his hand to Gene to help him out.*
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*feeling too sorry for himself to protest (and also insanely eager to get something in his stomach), Gene reaches out, managing to grab Sam's hand on the second try. On weak knees it's a struggle, but he manages to get himself up and out without falling flat on his face.*

*hanging onto Sam with one hand and the other pressed against his bruised chest, Gene steps away from the car* Ugh, bed sounds heavenly. Could just f-flop down right 'ere....
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