A/N: Um, not quite sure what's going to become of this fic, but here's the prologue. I'd really appreciate it if people could tell what they think, and if I should carry on. Thanks.

Disclaimer: None of the following is mine apart from a pinch of artistic license.

Sordid Details Following

Prologue

There was nothing in all hell, heaven and earth that Gene Hunt hated more than dreams.

Unfortunately for him all the scum of cockney London couldn't match up to this one.

The bedding threw crazy shadows off the street light lit walls as he thrashed, sweat gathering into streams across his brow.

At one point his eyes shot open, the cold, haunted look they held almost freezing the rest of the room.

Then all was quiet again and the night wore on.

XxX

"Oi! Genie!"

The voice cut through his thoughts like a kitchen knife through butter. The warm, golden feeling that had engulfed him as he'd sat with the book clasped in his hands in the shade of the summer day melted away as he looked up, blinded for a moment by the sun.

"What?"

"Mum says Dad's comin' 'ome so if I were yer I'd get yer arse outta 'ere."

Gene sighed slightly and looked towards his younger brother "I'll bloody tell yer if I need yer bloody advice." He snapped angrily, clamouring to his feet, his book still gripped in one hand.

His brother shrugged "Suit yerself." He muttered and turned around, back towards the house. "But yer've got ten minutes tops if yer not feelin' cocky."

Gene chewed his lip, staring towards the tree that stood in the dump that the estate had to call a park, a couple of streets down the road. He shrugged; chancing sunburn had got to be better for what waited for him if he stayed at home.

XxX

"Where the fuck do yer think yer've fuckin' bin?" He snarled as he pinned the teenager to the wall, his fist inches from the boy's face.

"I told yer, I ain't bin nowhere." Gene growled back, his blue eyes flashing defiantly.

"I take too much of your shit boy!" His father swore; spit flying into his son's face. "I come 'ome after a bloody 'ard day's work and what do I get but shit in return?"

Gene glared at him, sucking in a breath angrily "You think you bloody take shit!" The teenager almost roared "I've 'ad to put up with you all my bloody life!"

There was a silence that settled like a heavy cloth, suffocating and never ending as all the eyes in the room where suddenly fixed on Gene, still pinned to the wall.

His mother let out what sounded like a sob as his father's fist crashed into the side of his head and he fell, tumbling down to the ground as a boot collided with his stomach.

"Yer'll apologise to me!" The man bellowed as his son curled up in pain, his hands wrapped around his stomach. His father kicked him in the head.

"Then yer'll apologise to yer mother for being a bastard of a son. And then yer'll apologise to yer brother for being a bastard of a brother." He spat at the boy on the carpet

"Then yer'll get the fuck out of my 'ouse an' yer won't fuckin' come back till yer've learnt some fuckin' manners."

Gene swore at him, the world spinning in a crazy mass of black and white and blood red. "Fuck off."

"Apologise!" His father almost screamed at him, slamming his boot deep into his son's side and then reaching down and grabbing him by his shirt, throwing him hard into the wall.

There was a shudder as the house shook, the ancient, wobbling foundations creaking ominously.

Gene swore again as the world started to black around the edges.

His father kicked him harder and then hoisted him to his feet, throwing open the front door and holding him before it for a moment.

The stench of decay and stale beer and fags twisted up Gene's nostrils, choking him.

His father smiled savagely and in one swift movement hurled him out into the street.

Gene's head almost bounced off the concrete as the world went black, blood soaking through his hair.