Fic: Accidentally
Oct. 3rd, 2007 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Title: Accidentally
Author: serafina20
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam accidentally finds out something about the Guv. And accidents continue to happen.
Spoilers: Major for 2.08
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
Around four, Sam finally gave up trying to work. An entire football match was being played in his head, his eyes being used as the balls. Gene was still out, Chris and Ray were back and were talking with Charles, and Annie had yet to return. Exhausted and frustrated over what he couldn't remember, Sam found a couch and lay down and tried to think.
Item one: there was another person living inside his head.
Item two: a man from Hyde had appeared. He knew much about Sam's life in Hyde. Stuff Sam couldn't remember.
Item three: the other person in Sam's head had been raised by DCI Frank Morgan. And had still be living with Morgan, up until he left Hyde to come to Manchester and spy on Gene.
Item four: the other person in Sam' head was "accident prone" and often went into work with injuries that mysteriously sprung up overnight.
Item five: Frank Morgan was obsessed with him.
Conclusions were fairly simple to draw.
"Sam?"
Annie.
He opened his eyes and sat up. "Hi. Find anything?"
Looking weary, she dropped to the couch next to him. Rubbed her eyes. "Not much. Talked to Mrs. Adams again, got her to describe the men who broke in. Her description was like the others we had. Still have to wait for Mrs. Jones to wake up, of course. If she does."
"Or for him to strike again. Have another victim to talk to." Sam frowned. "I think you're on to something, though. This is someone angry. Looking for revenge."
She blushed. "Thanks. I mean, it just seems to fit, right?" Then she shrugged. "If only it could point us right to where he is. Stop this from happening again." Annie looked at Sam. Tilted her head to one side. "You come up with anything here?"
"Not really. Nothing new."
"Oh." Her tongue ran over her bottom lip. "What about Charles?"
"What about him?"
"Was it nice working with a friend from Hyde again?"
He screwed up his face. "I don't know. I mean, he was fine to work with. Smart, competent. Does things by the book. It's easy to work with him."
"Easier than us."
"Easier than Ray and Chris. I'm used to Gene. It's fun to work with him, even when he drives me crazy. You're easy to work with, mostly."
She arched an eyebrow. "Mostly?"
His lips quirked. "Sometimes, you go along with them."
"Ah. Of course."
They fell into a silence. Sam's mind raced, debating about whether he should ask the question that'd been plaguing him all day. If he did, and she figured out why he was asking, she might think him mad.
Of course, she already did think him mad. He had nothing to lose.
"Annie? Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
He rubbed his fingertips on his jeans. Drummed them a few times. "What do you know about... multiple personalities?"
"Multiple personalities?" Annie shook her head. "Not much. We talked about it a little in class. It's not really... I mean, it's controversial, isn't it? An American thing, mostly."
"I know. But... do you know anything?"
Annie shrugged. "Um. Generally, it's thought that a person who's had some kind of trauma in their lives sometimes form an alternate personality to deal with it. Like a kid, if he's been hurt badly. Abuse of some kind. Well, he might not be able to handle it on his own. So he creates someone else that can. That personality will take over from time to time, push the main on into the background."
"And the, uh. The core personality. Is it aware of what's going on?"
She shook her head. "Not usually, no. Or, at least, not always. Again, it's sketchy. But sometimes, one personality isn't aware of the other at all, not unless they're somehow made aware."
Interested, Sam leaned closer. "Made aware how?"
"Sometimes it's from a note. The other personality, when it's in charge, might leave a note to the other personality. Or, maybe, they'll run into someone on the street who knows them by a different name or something."
"Can the personalities interact together? At the same time?"
A wrinkle appeared between her eyes. She thought a moment, then slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't see how."
"What about... in a mirror or something? Like, one personality sees the other in the mirror. And they talk?"
"I honestly don't know, Sam. That sounds more like being schizophrenic or something. Seeing things. Hearing things." Her frowned deepened. "Why are you asking?"
"Just curious." Then, he decided with something just to the side of the truth. "It's just, Charles was telling me some things about myself and my life back in Hyde. It sounds... like a different version of me, somehow. And I still don't remember any of it."
"So you think you have multiple personalities?" She seemed amused, a little smile tugging at her lips.
He shrugged. "I'm grasping at straws right now. It's the headache. I know I'm being silly."
"You still have a headache?" Annie put her hand on his forehead. "Did you tell the doctor?"
"He said it'd hurt on and off for a bit. The concussion rattled things real good up there. Just to take something and try to relax."
"And are you? relaxing?"
"Haven't had time."
"You should go home and sleep."
He should. He wanted too. Of course, home was rather nebulous right now. Sam hadn't seen his flat in days. Or, rather, he'd seen it, just not slept there. All his time was spent at Gene's, in a comfortable bed in a home that consisted of more than a room.
And he had a key.
"Tyler," Gene said, sticking his head into the room. "Pub."
He exchanged glances with Annie. Gave her a rueful smile. "Coming?"
"Dunno. I guess I could stop by for a bit. You think Charles is going to be there?"
"Could be. I really don't know him well enough to know what he'll do. Why?"
Annie shrugged and gave him a half smile. "Just wondering. We'll be working with him now until we solve the case. Pub's a good place to get to know a bloke. I still can't help but think he's here because of the guv. Like you were."
Sam shook his head. "I really don't think so. I don't get that vibe from him, somehow. He seem genuine."
"I hope so."
"Tyler!"
"Coming!" He stood. Ran a hand over his eyes. "He's like a child. Can't wait for anything."
Annie just laughed. "Remind me of a henpecked husband, you do. Him going at you all the time to move and come."
Ears warm, Sam looked at her wryly. "I dare you to make that comparison to him. Just not around me. The guv'd never hit a bird."
She gave a very unlady-like snort. "I'm not suicidal, Sam. You'll have to suggest it yourself."
That would prevent him from ever getting laid. "Don't think so. See you at the pub."
"Be there soon."
Gene was waiting at the door, hands stuffed in his pockets. When Sam finally emerged, he gave an irritated scowl, then turned and stormed out of the room. Sam quickened his pace to follow.
"Took you long enough," he growled when Sam caught up to him. "You and the skirt have a nice little chat?"
"We did, yeah. Talked about horrible mental diseases. And Charles."
"Same thing, right?" He threw a look at Sam as they emerged into the setting sun. "How'd things go with him? Give you any trouble?"
He shook his head. The movement caused his right temple to pound painfully and tears rose to his eyes. "No. He was... not a thing like Morgan. Reminded me of working with Chris, only, you know. Sharp and clever." They rounded the corner and made it to the pub.
Gene pushed the door open and pushed Sam inside. "So. He here to fit me up?"
"I don't think so. If anything, I'd think he's here for me." He waved to Nelson, who was already pulling their pints.
"You? For Morgan?"
He nodded, stomach turning. Every time he thought of Morgan, he felt vaguely ill. The suspicion was driving him mad. On the other hand, talking to a reflection in a mirror would drive him mad, too. There was no way to win this battle. "I ever tell you that he said my parents died when I was twelve? Thanks Nelson." He took his pint and moved to the corner table he and Gene favored.
"Might have mentioned it." Gene plopped into his chair with a satisfied sigh. "So? Want me to cry? Hold you?"
"No, I..." He dropped his voice when Chris, Ray, and Charles walked into the pub. Returned Chris's wave, then leaned closer to Gene. "Morgan raised me."
Gene's eyebrows raised. "He what?"
"After... my parents died," and God, did that feel wrong to say, "Morgan took me in. Raised me up."
"And a right pretty little nancy he got, there." Deep frown lines creased Gene's face. He took a long drink. "You remember any of it?"
"No." He only sipped at his beer; the way his head was pounding, he knew he'd have to take something for it. Didn't need the complication. Or the chance of a hangover. "It's... frustrating." He looked over at Charles. Rubbed his neck. "I don't know what to believe."
"Bout what?"
"Who I am. My past. Any of it."
"Oh, for Christ's... You're Sam Tyler. You're a good cop and a bloody pain in the arse. What more do you need to know?"
He rested his head against the wall. Looked at Gene. "You're more than just a good cop and a bloody pain in the arse," he said. "You're the sum of all your experiences. Everything in your past, everything you've done. Everything that's happened to you. I don't have any of that, except what I've made up. So. Who am I?"
"Why can't what you've made up be who you are? You're always going off about your mum or your aunt or any of the other women what made you into a soft little ponce that birds love to flock about. You saying that ain't real?"
"But what if..."
"You're the sum of something, Sam," Gene interrupted. "Even if you can't remember right. What you do remember is enough to make you who you are."
"I guess." He stared moodily into his pint. Swallowed it down. "I need some air. Going for a walk."
"You coming over tonight?"
He sighed. "I want to. But I've a headache. I don't know how good of company I'll be."
Gene shrugged. "No worse than usual."
"Yeah, but..."
"Do what you want, Tyler," Gene said abruptly. He sat up a little straighter. Looked away. "Don't matter none to me."
"Gene, I..."
"Look. You've got a key. You know how to use it, unless that knock on your head rattled your brains all out. So. D o what you like."
He sat back down. Wrapped his hand around his empty glass. "You that I want to explore those avenues we discussed this morning," he said, voice low.
One of Gene's eyebrows twitched, but his gaze was fixed steadily out.
"There's just a lot coming at me right now. This minute. And I can't get it straight in my head."
"So, go back to your little flat and sit on your creaky bed and get it straight. I'm not your keeper, Tyler. Go home, don't. Come over, stay away."
"But you understand that if I don't come over, it's not because I'm not still, you know." He put his foot on top of Gene's. Applied a gentle pressure.
Gene's lips twitched. "Is that right? So, you don't have the attention span of a flying insect. Good to know."
"I'm just going for a walk. But, if it gets to late..."
Finally, Gene looked at him. "You look like shite, Sammy. Go home. Get some sleep. Come back to work tomorrow with your head on."
"Will do, Guv." Sam winked at Gene as he rose, earning a sock in the arm as he passed. He stumbled for show, then put his feet under him and left.
Outside, the air was cool and wet. Sam tipped his head back. Allowed the night to surround him, wrap around him. His mind settled some, the pain ebbed.
He knew what he had to do. He didn't want to, but he had to. It'd been about five months since he'd met Frank Morgan. Since he'd become aware that there was more to live in 1973 than Manchester and Gene Hunt and the job. He'd tried to ignore it, being not really interested in anything than what he already knew, but now... now it was coming for him. Knocking on his bloody door. Crawling out of his head.
Sam breathed deeply. Stretched his back, then turned around and walked into his building.
The phone number was still sitting on the counter, where it'd been for months. Blood running hotly through him, Sam picked it up. Went to his phone and dialed.
Two rings. Then, "Frank Morgan, speaking."
He swallowed.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Uh, yes. It's me. Sam."
Author: serafina20
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam accidentally finds out something about the Guv. And accidents continue to happen.
Spoilers: Major for 2.08
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
Around four, Sam finally gave up trying to work. An entire football match was being played in his head, his eyes being used as the balls. Gene was still out, Chris and Ray were back and were talking with Charles, and Annie had yet to return. Exhausted and frustrated over what he couldn't remember, Sam found a couch and lay down and tried to think.
Item one: there was another person living inside his head.
Item two: a man from Hyde had appeared. He knew much about Sam's life in Hyde. Stuff Sam couldn't remember.
Item three: the other person in Sam's head had been raised by DCI Frank Morgan. And had still be living with Morgan, up until he left Hyde to come to Manchester and spy on Gene.
Item four: the other person in Sam' head was "accident prone" and often went into work with injuries that mysteriously sprung up overnight.
Item five: Frank Morgan was obsessed with him.
Conclusions were fairly simple to draw.
"Sam?"
Annie.
He opened his eyes and sat up. "Hi. Find anything?"
Looking weary, she dropped to the couch next to him. Rubbed her eyes. "Not much. Talked to Mrs. Adams again, got her to describe the men who broke in. Her description was like the others we had. Still have to wait for Mrs. Jones to wake up, of course. If she does."
"Or for him to strike again. Have another victim to talk to." Sam frowned. "I think you're on to something, though. This is someone angry. Looking for revenge."
She blushed. "Thanks. I mean, it just seems to fit, right?" Then she shrugged. "If only it could point us right to where he is. Stop this from happening again." Annie looked at Sam. Tilted her head to one side. "You come up with anything here?"
"Not really. Nothing new."
"Oh." Her tongue ran over her bottom lip. "What about Charles?"
"What about him?"
"Was it nice working with a friend from Hyde again?"
He screwed up his face. "I don't know. I mean, he was fine to work with. Smart, competent. Does things by the book. It's easy to work with him."
"Easier than us."
"Easier than Ray and Chris. I'm used to Gene. It's fun to work with him, even when he drives me crazy. You're easy to work with, mostly."
She arched an eyebrow. "Mostly?"
His lips quirked. "Sometimes, you go along with them."
"Ah. Of course."
They fell into a silence. Sam's mind raced, debating about whether he should ask the question that'd been plaguing him all day. If he did, and she figured out why he was asking, she might think him mad.
Of course, she already did think him mad. He had nothing to lose.
"Annie? Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
He rubbed his fingertips on his jeans. Drummed them a few times. "What do you know about... multiple personalities?"
"Multiple personalities?" Annie shook her head. "Not much. We talked about it a little in class. It's not really... I mean, it's controversial, isn't it? An American thing, mostly."
"I know. But... do you know anything?"
Annie shrugged. "Um. Generally, it's thought that a person who's had some kind of trauma in their lives sometimes form an alternate personality to deal with it. Like a kid, if he's been hurt badly. Abuse of some kind. Well, he might not be able to handle it on his own. So he creates someone else that can. That personality will take over from time to time, push the main on into the background."
"And the, uh. The core personality. Is it aware of what's going on?"
She shook her head. "Not usually, no. Or, at least, not always. Again, it's sketchy. But sometimes, one personality isn't aware of the other at all, not unless they're somehow made aware."
Interested, Sam leaned closer. "Made aware how?"
"Sometimes it's from a note. The other personality, when it's in charge, might leave a note to the other personality. Or, maybe, they'll run into someone on the street who knows them by a different name or something."
"Can the personalities interact together? At the same time?"
A wrinkle appeared between her eyes. She thought a moment, then slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't see how."
"What about... in a mirror or something? Like, one personality sees the other in the mirror. And they talk?"
"I honestly don't know, Sam. That sounds more like being schizophrenic or something. Seeing things. Hearing things." Her frowned deepened. "Why are you asking?"
"Just curious." Then, he decided with something just to the side of the truth. "It's just, Charles was telling me some things about myself and my life back in Hyde. It sounds... like a different version of me, somehow. And I still don't remember any of it."
"So you think you have multiple personalities?" She seemed amused, a little smile tugging at her lips.
He shrugged. "I'm grasping at straws right now. It's the headache. I know I'm being silly."
"You still have a headache?" Annie put her hand on his forehead. "Did you tell the doctor?"
"He said it'd hurt on and off for a bit. The concussion rattled things real good up there. Just to take something and try to relax."
"And are you? relaxing?"
"Haven't had time."
"You should go home and sleep."
He should. He wanted too. Of course, home was rather nebulous right now. Sam hadn't seen his flat in days. Or, rather, he'd seen it, just not slept there. All his time was spent at Gene's, in a comfortable bed in a home that consisted of more than a room.
And he had a key.
"Tyler," Gene said, sticking his head into the room. "Pub."
He exchanged glances with Annie. Gave her a rueful smile. "Coming?"
"Dunno. I guess I could stop by for a bit. You think Charles is going to be there?"
"Could be. I really don't know him well enough to know what he'll do. Why?"
Annie shrugged and gave him a half smile. "Just wondering. We'll be working with him now until we solve the case. Pub's a good place to get to know a bloke. I still can't help but think he's here because of the guv. Like you were."
Sam shook his head. "I really don't think so. I don't get that vibe from him, somehow. He seem genuine."
"I hope so."
"Tyler!"
"Coming!" He stood. Ran a hand over his eyes. "He's like a child. Can't wait for anything."
Annie just laughed. "Remind me of a henpecked husband, you do. Him going at you all the time to move and come."
Ears warm, Sam looked at her wryly. "I dare you to make that comparison to him. Just not around me. The guv'd never hit a bird."
She gave a very unlady-like snort. "I'm not suicidal, Sam. You'll have to suggest it yourself."
That would prevent him from ever getting laid. "Don't think so. See you at the pub."
"Be there soon."
Gene was waiting at the door, hands stuffed in his pockets. When Sam finally emerged, he gave an irritated scowl, then turned and stormed out of the room. Sam quickened his pace to follow.
"Took you long enough," he growled when Sam caught up to him. "You and the skirt have a nice little chat?"
"We did, yeah. Talked about horrible mental diseases. And Charles."
"Same thing, right?" He threw a look at Sam as they emerged into the setting sun. "How'd things go with him? Give you any trouble?"
He shook his head. The movement caused his right temple to pound painfully and tears rose to his eyes. "No. He was... not a thing like Morgan. Reminded me of working with Chris, only, you know. Sharp and clever." They rounded the corner and made it to the pub.
Gene pushed the door open and pushed Sam inside. "So. He here to fit me up?"
"I don't think so. If anything, I'd think he's here for me." He waved to Nelson, who was already pulling their pints.
"You? For Morgan?"
He nodded, stomach turning. Every time he thought of Morgan, he felt vaguely ill. The suspicion was driving him mad. On the other hand, talking to a reflection in a mirror would drive him mad, too. There was no way to win this battle. "I ever tell you that he said my parents died when I was twelve? Thanks Nelson." He took his pint and moved to the corner table he and Gene favored.
"Might have mentioned it." Gene plopped into his chair with a satisfied sigh. "So? Want me to cry? Hold you?"
"No, I..." He dropped his voice when Chris, Ray, and Charles walked into the pub. Returned Chris's wave, then leaned closer to Gene. "Morgan raised me."
Gene's eyebrows raised. "He what?"
"After... my parents died," and God, did that feel wrong to say, "Morgan took me in. Raised me up."
"And a right pretty little nancy he got, there." Deep frown lines creased Gene's face. He took a long drink. "You remember any of it?"
"No." He only sipped at his beer; the way his head was pounding, he knew he'd have to take something for it. Didn't need the complication. Or the chance of a hangover. "It's... frustrating." He looked over at Charles. Rubbed his neck. "I don't know what to believe."
"Bout what?"
"Who I am. My past. Any of it."
"Oh, for Christ's... You're Sam Tyler. You're a good cop and a bloody pain in the arse. What more do you need to know?"
He rested his head against the wall. Looked at Gene. "You're more than just a good cop and a bloody pain in the arse," he said. "You're the sum of all your experiences. Everything in your past, everything you've done. Everything that's happened to you. I don't have any of that, except what I've made up. So. Who am I?"
"Why can't what you've made up be who you are? You're always going off about your mum or your aunt or any of the other women what made you into a soft little ponce that birds love to flock about. You saying that ain't real?"
"But what if..."
"You're the sum of something, Sam," Gene interrupted. "Even if you can't remember right. What you do remember is enough to make you who you are."
"I guess." He stared moodily into his pint. Swallowed it down. "I need some air. Going for a walk."
"You coming over tonight?"
He sighed. "I want to. But I've a headache. I don't know how good of company I'll be."
Gene shrugged. "No worse than usual."
"Yeah, but..."
"Do what you want, Tyler," Gene said abruptly. He sat up a little straighter. Looked away. "Don't matter none to me."
"Gene, I..."
"Look. You've got a key. You know how to use it, unless that knock on your head rattled your brains all out. So. D o what you like."
He sat back down. Wrapped his hand around his empty glass. "You that I want to explore those avenues we discussed this morning," he said, voice low.
One of Gene's eyebrows twitched, but his gaze was fixed steadily out.
"There's just a lot coming at me right now. This minute. And I can't get it straight in my head."
"So, go back to your little flat and sit on your creaky bed and get it straight. I'm not your keeper, Tyler. Go home, don't. Come over, stay away."
"But you understand that if I don't come over, it's not because I'm not still, you know." He put his foot on top of Gene's. Applied a gentle pressure.
Gene's lips twitched. "Is that right? So, you don't have the attention span of a flying insect. Good to know."
"I'm just going for a walk. But, if it gets to late..."
Finally, Gene looked at him. "You look like shite, Sammy. Go home. Get some sleep. Come back to work tomorrow with your head on."
"Will do, Guv." Sam winked at Gene as he rose, earning a sock in the arm as he passed. He stumbled for show, then put his feet under him and left.
Outside, the air was cool and wet. Sam tipped his head back. Allowed the night to surround him, wrap around him. His mind settled some, the pain ebbed.
He knew what he had to do. He didn't want to, but he had to. It'd been about five months since he'd met Frank Morgan. Since he'd become aware that there was more to live in 1973 than Manchester and Gene Hunt and the job. He'd tried to ignore it, being not really interested in anything than what he already knew, but now... now it was coming for him. Knocking on his bloody door. Crawling out of his head.
Sam breathed deeply. Stretched his back, then turned around and walked into his building.
The phone number was still sitting on the counter, where it'd been for months. Blood running hotly through him, Sam picked it up. Went to his phone and dialed.
Two rings. Then, "Frank Morgan, speaking."
He swallowed.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Uh, yes. It's me. Sam."
