Strangers

"There is nothing so strange in a strange land, as the stranger who comes to visit it."

Nelson

Sam speaks to him as if they share some secret knowledge. Nelson's not sure what that knowledge is, and sometimes he thinks Sam's not sure either. Sam needs someone to understand him, and though Nelson doesn't, he's good at pretending. He's good at commiserating with men who make no sense, though usually it's because they're too pissed to articulate their troubles. The mask is part of the job. Listening is part of the job. Advising is part of the job.

Nelson's advice is as cryptic as Sam's raving.

People don't want answers; sometimes they just need to ask the questions.

Neil

Annie tells him about the new DI and his mad story. Neil has a good laugh over it. She wants a second opinion. Should she tell someone? Does he need help? Neil looks at Tyler's collection of notes and does not answer. He's never seen a delusion this severe, this fascinating.

When they meet, Neil can't resist playing into it. He can almost see the scenario he concocts- a white room, a bed with clean white sheets, a pale, sleeping face. When Tyler rushes determinately from the canteen, though, there's a twinge of apprehension.

Annie never speaks to him again.

Joni Newton

It's nothing personal, she thinks, as she clicks the cuffs to his wrists. He mutters strange words, yells something incoherent. His eyelids flicker in shadow.

It's nothing personal, she thinks, as she strips off her shirt and begins the mechanical process of touching and teasing, working with the precision and efficiency of a surgeon.

It's nothing personal, she thinks, and knows that it's a lie. Whatever his sense of duty, he'd gone beyond it to help a girl in trouble. It's more personal for him than he let on.

It's personal for Warren too; he never takes an insult well.

Ruth Tyler

Standing on her front step, he looks so inexplicably lost. It takes him a beat too long to reach for his badge, as if he'd forgotten he had it, forgotten who he was for a moment.

There's something strange about him that she can't quite place. And then he offers her the money, and it all becomes clear. He looks lost again as he leaves, and she realizes that she knows that look all to well. It's her husband's look, the one that settles there whenever he's between dreams of new ventures, whenever he's searching for new means of escape.

Vic Tyler

Vic can't believe his luck. Of all the coppers in Manchester who might have found him – he'd be on the ground by now. But it's him, the unfortunate Sam Tyler, who acts like their names are more than happy coincidence. Not so happy for that Tyler, but this Tyler will be sitting pretty in London by this time tomorrow, if he can just find the right words, the right tone, the right look. Sam is like a shattered mirror: one tap in the right place, and all the pieces come crashing down.

"I'll stay if you give me the gun."

Eve Olawi

He gives her doe-eyed concern and tells her to leave the man she loves. He must think she's stupid, this bigoted copper with his mind games and planted evidence. Condescending prick.

Later, as she's pleading with doctors who won't give her the time of day and lawyers asking questions she doesn't know how to answer, she realizes that Tyler's concern is as real and as dangerous as his insanity. He's made himself her hero in his deluded fantasy, whoever he thinks she is, and he's made her Tony the villain.

He's won because coppers close ranks, even around their madmen.

Harry Woolf

In his other life, he would have enjoyed having the respect of a man like Sam Tyler. Tyler is the sort of copper he'd always encouraged young coppers to be. He can see why Gene wants to throttle him, and why he likes him more than he cares to admit.

Sam warms to Harry instantly, like a man in desperate need of someone he won't feel ashamed to look up to.

It makes Harry feel ill. Tyler's respect is a necessary component to his plan, but it gives him no pleasure; just one new betrayal to add to his list.

Glen Fletcher

There was an incident in Hyde. He's almost certain of it. He's almost certain that he's seen that face before. And Tyler keeps looking at him as if there should be recognition between them. He looks at him so expectantly. It's as if he wants Glen's approval. God knows why.

It's the scream of betrayal that convinces him Tyler is mad. They might have seen one another in Hyde, but he'd remember sharing good times and memories with someone completely mental.

Glen wishes he could leave it at that, but he doesn't find Tyler as unnerving as he ought to.

Lesley Roy

They share a common experience. A dirty little secret. Except that he doesn't treat it as dirty- he speaks of his past love affair wistfully, lovingly, longingly- his words betray no shame. He only regrets its ending. She likes speaking to someone who regards Deepak as a person deserving of her love.

Then Deepak is dead and she is pregnant, and what else can she do? Sam's concern startles her; it's desperate and creepy. It makes her wonder how deep their shared experience runs.

When she decides to keep it, she convinces herself that it's nothing to do with him.

DCI Frank Morgan

Sam had warned him.

He had brushed it off, at the time, because one incident in childhood, no matter how traumatic, was not enough to convince him of the instability of a police officer who had never proved to be anything other than upstanding. Outstanding, even; he had not made this choice lightly, and would not be swayed.

It wasn't until he was standing in the grave yard, with Sam yelling that those were not his parents, this was not his life, that he realized how brittle Sam had always been. All the appearance of hardness, but one blow in the right place and he'd fallen, cracked. Moreover, he'd gone soft here, gotten attached. That was just as alarming, as far as their objective was concerned. Broken might be fixed, but soft was useless to him.

The old Sam would not have gone soft; he would have understood why the solution was best wrapped up neatly, with no loose ends. There would still be a mess to sort out, but it would be greatly reduced, if things went as planned.

This Sam would have to be lied to. It was the only way to ensure the operation was a success.

Dr. Frank Morgan

He's strangely drawn to this patient. It's the little indications of life, beyond steady breathing to the rhythm of the life support machine. He watches for each tremor, each murmur, as slight as they are- so slight you wouldn't notice it, unless it's what you're looking for.

Wherever he's gone, it has a firm hold on him. It's the tumor, their elusive answer.

But when the mother asks him whether he'll recover, he finds his reassurances empty.

Because he thinks he knows the secret: Sam has to want to return. It's the only way the operation will be a success.