Changes S1E1

London. Beautiful city that is. Lots of cars, lots of people; that's true. But I hardly ever see them. Sometimes I wish I did. I remember that I used to dream as a kid. I dreamt of shopping in big old London, but it was too far away. I remember how my mom always used to say that I should move to England, because I never could really stop mentioning things from British culture. I also remember her crying when I finally did. I moved to England and became a Londoner DC. DC Carlyle, to be more specific.

But faith had it, and I never got to work in London. Instead of helping people, I was the one to be helped. It's been six months now. Barely conscious I'm in a hospital bed. Doctors and nurses come and go, but I never have a clue of what they do. My parents moved into a hotel nearby months ago, but when the days became too many they gave up. I couldn't agree more. I don't speak, I barely react. Still my condition stays the same. I'm not getting better; I'm not getting worse... for now.

The orange I see behind closed eyes tells me that it's close to midday. I feel a presence in my room. It must be a doctor of some kind. Or a nurse. I try to open my eyes, but hardly even manage it. The silhouette of a figure is standing next to me. It must be a doctor, because he's pushing something in my skin. It's a needle, but I barely even feel it. Somewhere in the room there is a radio playing. While the doctor presses the liquid through the needle, I hear him muttering along. Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes! I see a white reflection in his glasses, just before my lights die. I hear his whispering voice: 'It's 12:04. Do what you need to do.'

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'DI Simmons! Office. NOW!' Gene turned around and smashed his office door behind him, expecting to be followed by the new DI he had received from Hyde. IPhone guy. Hours the Gene Genie had listened to his cries about wanting it back. By the time Simmons had stopped his attempts to get an answer, the DCI'd come to the conclusion it had to be some kind of portable phone, plugged into your ears.

IPhone. Gene had known people giving objects the weirdest names, but this must have been the weirdest of them all. Why couldn't he just call it a telephone properly? When Simmons had started muttering about SMS and applications, he'd lost him. This must have been his most geeky DI in ages. Even geekier than DI Drake, who'd known how to fiddle with his computer, who he'd only used for pinball, and a broken VSH.

'Yes, Guv?' Simmons closed the door behind him. The DI had adapted himself quite quickly. Sometimes Gene could hear him mutter about things he as old-fashioned man didn't understand. But at least the DI had stopped demanding to get everything right back in order. He had accepted his new DCI's authority.

'Right. IBrain.' Gene poured a glass of Scots and handed it over to his DI before he poured one himself. 'It seems we're having a party going on.'

'Party?' Simmons looked around but couldn't seem to spot a reason for celebration. 'S your birthday, Guv?'

Gene sighed and placed an advert under his DI's nose. 'No, some nutter thought that opening a club without permission was a good idea.'

'So, we're going to take the club down?'

'No.' Gene answered. 'We're going to join them in their nice party. You and me.'

Simmons looked confused. Even though he worked under his new DCI for a couple of weeks now, he couldn't quite understand his contradictions yet. He saw Gene getting on his coat. 'What about the illegal stuff?'

'Right-o.' Gene opened the door of his office and let Simmons walk out of the door. 'Let's smash this party then, shall we?'

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When I opened my eyes everything was blurred. Headache! It must have been ages since I properly felt something. And the first thing I felt was a bloody headache! I tried to get up a little. The environment was darkened. I must have been sleeping for quite a few hours then. Maybe the doctor had finally given me something to properly sleep on.

My ears started noticing voices. Laughter, happy chats. On the background I could hear an heavy bass. It was a known tune to my ears; New Order's Blue Monday. Every time my parents came to visit me they would play their CD, knowing that I used to love it in the days I happily moved around. But this time it felt like it was played louder. A lot louder, as if they tried to wake me by destroying my ears. I wanted to scream. To tell them to turn the volume down.

'TE LUID!' By the shock of hearing my own voice my eyes suddenly saw everything around me. This was not my hospital room... There were people everywhere! I quickly tried to get up. Too quickly maybe because fell against some guy before I could properly run away. I was frightened. I wasn't supposed to be around people.

'Oi! German girl!' A voice called. I kept running. I had to get out. I needed air. I needed to wake up! This wasn't right. It was a dream. But how could I dream in such a detail, when I lost the detailed dreams weeks ago. The male voice followed me outside. 'Oi! Du bist nicked!' I turned around and saw a blond haired male, probably aged around his 50ies, showing me his police badge. Behind him a younger man tried to prevent other people to leave the building.

'They gave me too much medication! I must be hallucinating.' I muttered, trying to make sense out of things. Terrified I looked at the copper in front of me. 'What's going on?'

'You are drunk, woman!' He grabbed me by the arm and lead me towards a car that I could identify as a Mercedes by its logo.

I struggled, but his grip was too strong. 'I'm not drunk! I'm supposed to be in a hospital bed!'

My observation of his face told me that he was getting annoyed. 'I don't know where you Germans locate your hospital rooms, but in England they are defiantly not in illegal dance clubs!'

'Dance club?' Suddenly it made sense. The music, The people. But how did I get there? And... 'Why do you keep telling me I'm German?'

'Because you are. Wasn't the music, quote: Zu luid?'

'No. It was "quote": Te luid! Which is bloody Dutch. Learn your languages, copper!' Of course. I knew foreigners of the Dutch language almost always mistook it for German, but I couldn't care less about the fact now. I was pissed off.

The copper hesitated. He was no longer annoyed; He was getting mad now. 'Great. Another week smoking dealer, right? Bloody lost three good coppers and my precious Quattro to you lot!' He pushed towards the car and pointed to one of the car doors. 'Inside. Now. You've got something to explain to the police.'

'Oh, no I haven't!' I turned around to face him, mocking him.

'Tell me, you're the drunken queen of the Netherlands? Got some immunity I didn't know of?' He opened the car door in an aggressive rush. 'In. NOW!'

I got in the car before I realized something very important. 'No, because I'm DC.'

The copper looked surprised. Then shut the door to get on his own seat. 'Nothing proven.'

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Next:

Gene: 'Right. Let's welcome our new DC!' Gene: 'Sam?' Fingers follow the lines in DI Drake's late desk: 6220. DC Carlyle: 'Tell me Guv. Who is he?'