For reasons unknown to even the highest of powers, Gene had allowed Danny to come with him to kick in Sam's door. No harm could come from it, Gene justified to himself. Besides, if he refused to let Danny ride back with him and Sam, chances were the sergeant would be unable to find his way back to the station, which solved Gene's problem nicely. It had, at least, until Danny started talking.
"So, if I were in a traffic collision," Danny asked, "Does that mean Nicholas was as well?"
"Dunno, who's Nicholas?"
"He's my partner."
"Why would he be in this unreported crash that somehow landed you in my office?"
"Well, he was driving the car when it was hit."
"Then yeah, it would appear safe to assume he was,"
"Do you think he's all right?"
"Don't know, don't care."
"I was all right, and the other car hit my side of the car. That means he's all right, yeah?"
"Unless a chunk of the wind screen ripped his head off,"
"Can that happen?"
"Seen it once, back when I was on traffic duty. Pretty gruesome."
"You don't think that happened to Nicholas, do you?" Gene was about to say that, yes, he was pretty sure that was what had happened, and that they'd got a call on such an accident before they left the office, but the genuine worry on Danny's face stopped him. He was bad enough at handling crying women, if he had to comfort a crying police officer, he might just throw himself under the wheels of his own Cortina.
"Probably not," Gene sighed. "Look, I'm sure he's fine, would you stop worrying?"
"Do you think he woke up in a strange place like I did?"
"Why do you insist on acting like I care? Would you just shut up before I kick you out of this car while it's still moving?" Gene shouted. Danny shut up for a whole 10 seconds.
"Where are we anyway?" he asked.
"Kennel Road."
"Not the street, the city!"
"You know, you really are as mental as Tyler. It's Manchester, you div. Do you need the year too, like he did?"
"Manchester! You know, I've never been to Manchester before. Fancy I should wake up here." Danny grinned. "But why would Tyler need to know the year?"
"The picky pain had a concussion. Convinced himself it was supposed to be 2006."
"Well, isn't it?"
"It's 1973, you dolt!"
"Last time I looked, it was 2006. You sure you didn't just forget to switch you calendars? The editor of our local newspaper did once. For three months it said 2003 when actually, it was 2004. Felt rather silly when someone pointed it out to him."
"I'm pretty damn sure it's 1973," Gene shouted. "Blimey, you and Tyler could share a room in the loony bin. Now shut it, or by God, I'll shut it for you!" This time, the silence lasted all of 15 seconds.
"So you really think Nicholas is all right?"
When
they finally arrived outside of Sam's building, Gene was as close
to committing murder as he ever had been. It took every shred of his
already close to non-existent discipline to walk the stairs to
Tyler's room rather than kick Danny's head in. He'd go up,
release some pent up frustration on the door (he'd decided not to
even bother knocking this time), pick up Tyler, and, if Danny so much
as suggested riding back to the station with them, run the man over
with the car, paintwork be damned.
This was why his first reaction
to Sam's door already hanging off its hinges was disappointment,
not alarm. The feelings quickly shifted, though, when saw the state
of Sam's room.
The flat was a bit dingy at the best and Gene
often found Sam's clothes and empty liquor bottles lying around on
the floor when he came to retrieve him. This was different, however.
The bed had collapsed, the table was turned over, and a liquid that
looked suspiciously like blood was pooled next to the collapsed bed.
Turning silently on his heel, Gene was about to call for back up when
Danny's head appeared in the doorframe.
"It got boring waiting downstairs," he explained, before noticing the state of the flat. "Blimey, what happened here?" he asked wide eyed.
"Seems we've got ourselves a new case," Gene replied stoically. "Tyler's been kidnapped." He pushed past Danny, no emotion but cold fury on his face. Danny didn't follow, though. He stood frozen in the doorway.
"Tubby, get over here! I'm not leaving someone I don't know to walk all over a crime scene." Danny didn't move. Gene went back to him, intent on dragging the man away if necessary. Just as he was about to grab his collar, Danny pointed at something on the floor of the flat.
"They've got Nicholas too," he whispered, eyes focused at the police hat lying upside down on the floor.
"Don't be daft, it could be anyone's hat," Gene protested.
"No. Look, it's got 'twat' written on the brim," he said quietly. "It's Nicholas's."
"Great," Gene muttered, throwing his hands in the air. "Does this mean I'm stuck with you?"
When Sam finally woke to find himself handcuffed to the piping of a very generic basement, Nicholas had already been awake for quite a while.
"Wha…" he tried to say, and then thought better of it. He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure inside his skull.
"You fell during the struggle with the intruders and hit your head against the metal frame of your bed. You cut your temple and probably suffered a concussion," he heard Nicholas inform him in clinically. "That, combined with the residue alcohol in your bloodstream would explain the headache you appear to be suffering." Sam squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again before attempting an answer.
"So what you're saying is, my head hurts because I hit it and have a hang over?" he said deadpan.
"Basically," Nicholas answered.
"That's just great." Sam groaned. With a lot of effort, he managed to focus on Nicholas again.
"Why are dressed like that again?" he asked, pointing in what might have been the general direction of Nicholas. His vision was still pretty fuzzy from the blinding headache.
"I'm a police officer. The uniform is mandatory." Nicholas explained as if talking to a 5 year old.
"But that's a 2006 uniform," Sam said, pulling at his cuffed arm. It turned out that the other end of the handcuff wasn't fastened to the pipe at all, just looped around it and fastened to Nicholas's wrist, causing Sam to tug at Nicholas.
"Seeing as it is 2006, that would be correct, but hardly of any importance. I was involved in a car crash before I woke up in your flat, and I really need to know what happened to the other person in the car with me," Nicholas asked, hoping to finally get a straight answer.
"You were in an accident in 2006 and woke up here?" Sam asked with hope and fear mixed in his voice.
"Yes, now would you tell me were Danny is?" Nicholas inquired, worry over his friend straining his patience.
"It's not possible!" Sam said, "You're just my mind trying to trick me! I'm finally settling in, so it decides to take me on a merry-go-round of doubt and alienation. I won't let it!" he shouted. He stubbornly shut his eyes and put his hands over his ears, trying to block the world out.
"Listen, I've had enough of this!" Nicholas shouts back, "Where am I and where the fuck is Danny?" He barely restrains himself from slapping the other man to gain his attention, and settles for yanking his cuffed hand so that one of the other mans hands are pulled away from his ear. The man looks up at him, obviously having hoped he'd disappeared. He looks deep into Nicholas's eyes, and with a scared whisper, he tells him,
"My name is Sam Tyler. I had an accident and I woke up 33 years in the past."
TBC…
AN: I'm a feedback whore, and it's a cold and lonely night…
