For all the regulars of the LoM fandom, the only reason I'm about to explain the story in the author's notes is because I'm writing this for a writing challenge for my forum, T/D. None of the members there seem to have watched LoM, and I want them to read this without thinking 'lulwhut?'

To the members of T/D:

Life on Mars is about a man called Sam Tyler, a police officer, who is hit by a car in 2006, and wakes up in 1973. Is he mad, lying in a hospital bed in a coma, or is he really back in time? Throughout the series, Sam hears hospital noises, voices, and glimpses of the world he belongs in, 2006. He is also occasionally affected by the 'medication' that the supposed hospital is giving him whilst in his 'coma.' Of course, he could just be in 1973 and be mad. Who knows?

(Well, I do, because you find out in the last episode of the series, but shut up; I'm trying to be mysterious here)

Anyway, the characters involved are Gene Hunt (briefly), Annie Cartwright (briefly), Sam Tyler, and his parents Vic and Ruth Tyler. Whilst Sam, Gene, and Annie are characters written about a lot, Ruth and Vic aren't (from what I've seen), so I'm technically within the rules. :K


Prompt: Marriage

Words: 1,797 (without all this A/N crap XD)

Images/ideas used: Flowers, White, Eyes, and friendship.


Seeing is Believing

Sam Tyler and Gene Hunt raced down the empty street, their feet pounding endlessly against the rain slicken road, which was still wet despite the clouds dispersing several hours ago. Whilst Sam was sprinting ahead, Gene lumbered behind, gun in one hand, a bacon sandwich clutched in the other.

"Will you put that away!" Sam yelled from over his shoulder, causing Gene to pull a face. "You don't need it!"

"I've only just bought this!" Gene snapped back, waving his sandwich in the air as he tried to catch up to Sam.

"Not that; the gun," Sam retorted. "The kid's only stolen a packet of cigarettes; nothing worth shooting over."

"Cigarettes that I'm going to smoke once we get hold of the little toe rag. Now shut up and keep moving!"

"I am," Sam bellowed back, wiping the sweat off his forehead and then muttering darkly to himself as the young boy came into sight.

Gene shoved the bacon sandwich into his mouth, freeing his hands so he could put his gun away into the holster. Before he could bring his hand back up to his mouth, however, the bread between his teeth ripped.

Sam stopped in his tracks as a yell of rage and horror from behind him sounded, and his heart jumped as he turned around, expecting to his boss lying in a crumpled heap on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

Or at least a little girl kicking him in the shins.

Or something.

Instead, he could only stand and watch, stunned, as Gene chased after the two circular pieces of bread, which were rolling down the street towards freedom. The bacon had been left abandoned at the edge of a puddle.

"Bugger, bastard, shit!" he cried as he lunged for the fleeing bread, missing, and then stumbling and nearly falling over. "Get back here, you bastards!"

"Gene!" Sam barked, finally coming to his senses, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Having a cup of tea and some jam on crumpets with Linda Lovelace!" Gene shouted back, red in the face. "What does it bloody look like I'm doing, you twonk! I've dropped my bastard butty!"

"We've got to catch the thief; you can buy another one later!"

"It cost me 39p! Go catch him yourself if you're that desperate," Gene called back, taking another swing for the rebellious bread.

"Fine," Sam sighed, before turning and running off down the street.

Within minutes, however, Sam knew it was useless. They'd lost the little kid, and while it wasn't too big a deal, what with him only stealing cigarettes, Gene's lack of commitment to the job was wearing Sam down once again.

Then he noticed the church.

He stared at it for a moment, the brick built building standing silently in the empty street, the stonework stained with years of Manchester city life. The windows were stained glass, with bars in front of them, to protect the church from thieves, and yet the door was a large, but simple, wooden structure, with only a single key lock to hold it. Just by looking at it, a strange sensation washed over him...like a feeling of recognition.

"I...I know this place?" he murmured to himself, and slowly approached it, stopping at the foot of the stone steps. Glancing up at the rooftops, he suddenly heard his mother's voice echoing all around him. He was so used to the sounds of the world he wanted so desperately to get back to, that it no longer startled him to hear it, and instead he simply listened, wishing that his mother knew he could hear her every word.

"Sam...Sammy...we all miss you so much. The doctors said...they said that talking to you and showing you things will help you through whatever's happening to you right now. So I found an old video of me and your dad marrying. Do you remember that?"

Sam cast his mind back and realised this was where his parents had married when he was only a few years old. They'd had him first, which was unusual for their time, and then decided on the wedding once they had enough money. Intrigued, Sam walked up the steps to the top, and ran his hand across the old, smooth wood of the door, before pushing on it. Luckily, it was unlocked, and he stepped inside the church, closing the door behind him with a bang.

The place was deserted, although it was obvious it was still in use. The pews were all in lines, the old, worn leather seats dark red, the navy blue carpet wiry and rough.

"I'm just putting the tape in now.... I know you never liked old home videos, Sammy. They made you miss your dad, didn't they? But maybe it'll help you wake up, and then you'll be back home, safe with us."

In the distance, Sam heard a clunk and a whir, which sounded just like a video being put into a VCR. Suddenly, a strong fragrance of flowers filled the room, despite their being no sign of plants at all. Sam glanced about, confused, and then staggered as his head hurt, stumbling towards the pews and sinking into the nearest one. He clutched at his forehead until the pain subsided, and then looked up again. Then he stood up abruptly, crying out in surprise.

The room was filled with people, all dressed in formal clothes, all sat in the pews, waiting expectantly for someone. Flowers decorated every inch of the room, and the lights were on all around, illuminating the room. Sam stared, unsure what was happening, but no one seemed to notice him, despite that it was clear he didn't belong there.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, edging out of the pew and into the aisle. "I didn't see you all...come in."

Everyone ignored him as if they couldn't hear him.

"I'll just be going now," he continued loudly.

Still no response.

Walking over to the nearest spectator, he waved his hand in front of her face. Then he stopped dead.

"Auntie Heather?" he said recognising her, and then glanced up at the altar. There stood his father, Vic, dressed as a groom. Sam realised what was going on.

"I'm reliving my parents wedding?"

Sam returned to his seat, deciding there must be a reason for watching this. The doors opened at the other end of the church, and a woman entered, dressed in white. Sam felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw his mother, Ruth, walk down the aisle.

The dress she wore was traditional, pure white with a flowing skirt, the bodice decorated with silver thread and a large, white ribbon around her waist. The way she wore it, however, left Sam speechless. He'd never seen her look like this before, and she seemed so young, so...vibrant. She was smiling up at Vic, his dad, as she moved in time with the bridal music, her bridesmaids holding up the long veil that cascaded down from her hair to the floor. Decorative flowers had been woven into her blonde curls, white, rounded petals, small and delicate. The makeup she wore was light, enhancing her fair features, particularly her eyes. Even from the pews, Sam could see that her blue eyes were filled with happiness as she looked ahead at her husband to be. Those eyes could look at no one else, and Sam felt a pang in his chest knowing that her husband would leave within a year, never to be seen again. Those eyes would never hold that joy again.

Suddenly Sam saw a young boy, no older than three, following the bride, dressed in a small suit that looked slightly too big for him, and Sam turned away quickly, knowing exactly who it was. Despite all his time in 1973, he was not ready to look at himself just yet. Seeing is believing, as he had heard once before; he didn't want to accept that he was here...that he might never go home.

Instead, he watched Ruth reach the altar, and after a brief speech from the priest, the couple began to say their vows.

"...take you, Victor Tyler, to be my wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness or in health, to love and to cherish 'till death do us part. And hereto I pledge you my faithfulness."

Sam listened intently, watching his father say his vows once his mother had finished hers. While he now knew why his father had left, he still didn't understand what could have made Vic into the man he was. He was a loving dad, a caring husband...and yet everything had turned out as it did. Sam wiped his eyes, old wounds reopening again since he had come to 1973, wishing he could have changed it all; wishing he could have made his father stay.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said, and then turned to Vic. "You may kiss the bride."

Vic leant forward, stroking his wife's cheek, and then kissed her tenderly. Cheers and claps erupted around the church, but Sam sat silently in the pews, feeling his heart breaking. As Ruth and Vic began to walk down the altar back outside, he put his head in his hands.

"Sam?"

Sam jumped, startled as a hand touched his shoulder, dragging him back into reality. He looked up, to see the church dim and empty once more, all signs of the wedding of his parents gone. Annie was stood next to him, her face one of concern.

"Annie," he replied, slowly standing up, still shaken from what he had seen. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh," she replied, smiling, "the Guv radioed in saying you need help tracking down a young lad. He said to Ray, 'send in a bird with a nice, big pair of tits. That oughta distract him while that ponce, Sam, cuffs him!' So they told me that I fitted the description and that I had to come and find you."

Sam shook his head, laughing to himself, and began to walk out of the church with Annie. Then he paused as he heard his mother's voice again.

"The doctor's say it's time for me to go, Sam. I'll be here tomorrow with something else, OK? Be strong. You'll pull through this. Goodbye, Sam."

"Goodbye, mum," Sam whispered, looking back into the church. Annie turned to look at him.

"Did you say something?" she asked, and Sam shook his head.

"No," he said. Annie smiled again, offering him her hand. He took it, giving it a little squeeze as they walked down the steps together and into the street.

"Just talking to myself."