Chapter Sixteen
1997
Gene closed his office door and pulled the shutters down. There was a horrible sick, burning sensation in his throat. He tried to swallow it back but it wasn't going anywhere. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the video tape he'd taken from Keats's basement. Alex's name stared back at him. He figured that Keats would keep hers separate from the other tapes. He'd done the same with Kim's. He must have had a separate plan for storing the tapes of anyone who got Little Jimbo excited.
"Alright, Lady B," he sighed as he slid the tape from its box, "I've carried out my end of the bargain, now it's time for you to hold up your end of the deal. I found the tape –now show me that you get 'ome."
He pushed the tape into the slot on the combi TV and retreated to the filing cabinet where he extracted a new bottle of scotch and a glass. He was going to need a little Dutch courage to get through this. He quickly poured himself a measure and took a long, comforting gulp then sat down at his desk and took the remote control from a drawer. Whoever would have thought pressing 'play' would be one of the hardest things he'd ever done?
"Relax, Alex, just drive."
Shit. How had Gene not realised that he was going to see everything? All the wake-ups, the trips back and forth, the times she crossed the line… he'd been so focused on the part about finding out how she would get back that he'd completely forgotten the tape would contain so much more. He'd never seen her entry to his world. He knew what happened but just hearing Alex talk about the moment Layton fired a gun at her head and watching it in full colour were two very different things.
"What could my parents possibly have to do with any of this?" he watched her terrified face, "They've been dead a long time."
This was a very different Alex to the one Gene knew. He'd never seen her as her two thousand and bollocks persona before; the plain, sensible hair, the smart suit – a far cry from the Bolly who arrived with a skirt as short as Jimbo's list of redeeming qualities. It shook Gene up a little to watch it, and not just because he knew he was about to see the bullet that sent her to him but because it was the first time he really saw… really knew… really understood that Alex had a life out there. She'd given it up for him when she made her choice to stay and now she'd be giving it up all over again to get back there.
"I had an empire, yeah?" Back in the day. I had connections. I had dealers on every street corner."
"Bloody hell, Layton," Gene couldn't believe the state of the crazed man on the screen. He'd thought Layton was in enough of a state in the 90s. It seemed the next decade would see the decay really set in.
"And things went wrong? Do you want to talk about that?"
The scotch stuck in Gene's throat as he watched the man on the screen slip a pair of mirrored sunglasses onto his face and hold up his gun. The expression on Alex's face almost killed him stone dead as she awaited the inevitable.
"You... you feel trapped," he heard her desperate voice say, "I mean, I can understand that. Those officers were itching for a fatality outcome…"
And then it came. The bullet.
Down she went.
Gene closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath but his lungs didn't seem to want to co-operate. He pursed his lips and fought to keep his expression firm and determined. Gene Hunt did not give in to girly emotions. However, he was in serious danger of doing so as the video crackled and the scene changed to one of Alex in a hospital bed. Gene tried not to think about it… tried not to remember… he knew what this was. He remembered her fading away completely and reappearing, moments later, way back not long after Simon had arrived in the world on a permanent basis.
"Mummy!"
That word made Gene's heart sink into his boots.
"That's the girl," he muttered, reaching for a top-up. He'd never seen Molly before. Up until that point all he had was an image in his head made up from Alex's descriptions. Seeing her made it real, after all those years. Gene couldn't even begin to comprehend how Alex had made a choice between the two worlds. He couldn't stand to imagine either.
He watched on as Alex awoke, then succumbed to the ceasing of her heart. While the doctors got it pumping again Gene knew her soul had returned to him right there and then, but there was more to come. The tape just grew harder to watch from there on in with the bullet that Keats sank into her head in Kim's hospital room splitting her soul in two and sending her the wrong way. Gene could have done without a replay of that moment. Angrily he hit fast forward and skipped beyond it until the scene changed to one of a road and he realised he was watching her return to the right body. Oh god, he'd heard about it… but seeing it for himself?
"Bloody hell, Bolly, next time you send me a coded message can't you just tell me how you're going to get home yerself so I don't have to watch you dying thirty eight times first?" His guts were twisted into knots and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to block the horror from his mind.
"Do you know where the road leads?"
Somehow this part was the hardest of all to stomach. He'd heard descriptions from Alex, Robin and Simon about her return but he had never expected to watch it on screen. He saw her driving with Robin beside her, both in pursuit of one man; the same man he'd just seen donning mirrored sunglasses and sinking a bullet into Alex's head. The same man he was going to spend the day tracing. The man that Alex had told him was her ticket home.
"The airfield."
"Right, hold on."
Gene had to admit that he was impressed by the driving skills Alex displayed. They wouldn't have been out of place in his own repertoire.
"So me skills have rubbed off on you," he commented quietly. He was glad of that. He watched as she kept on the trail of Layton until his driving became wild and erratic, and Gene knew what was coming.
"What is he doing?" he watched Alex ask
"I don't know," he heard Robin say as his expression became more anxious, "But I don't feel –" he stopped talking abruptly as the other car began to spin, "Holy shit! Alex, stop-"
"Shit!"
Gene's heart pulsed so hard that he could feel it all through his body. He clung to his glass as he watched the screen, willing himself not to look away as the cars collided and spun. Frozen in the moment, his eyes focused on the television as he watched Robin doing the impossible; sending Alex home from the other side.
That was never supposed to happen.
And yet, it had.
"She was supposed to be here," Gene mumbled, "doesn't belong there any more." That thought settled him slightly from the uncomfortable feelings he'd had since seeing Molly for the first time. Even with blood ties in the real world, that wasn't Alex's home any more. He could see that. He hung his head slightly as the scene ended and some static hissed and crackled for a few moments until it cleared once again to reveal the station car park. "Bugger."
Gene didn't need to see that part. It was nothing he hadn't watched a hundred times on CCTV; Alex falling to the ground, fading away, vanishing from his world. It didn't matter how many times he'd seen it, the pain never diminished. He drew in his breath as the picture changed and one of her hospital room showed instead; her eyes opening and her consciousness returning to her living body. He simply shook his head. It was wrong. It was all wrong. That wasn't where she belonged.
The static and blank tape that followed came as a relief. He didn't want to see her there in the waking world. It hurt too much. But after a few seconds of fuzz and buzzing he started to worry. The rest of the tape was blank. Where was her glorious return? Where was the answer she'd promised him? Not there, that was for sure.
"Bloody tape, bloody messages," Gene could feel his anger starting to grow. This couldn't have all been for nothing, it –
There was a loud crackle and a split second image before the static resumed. Gene frowned and peered a little closer as the image cleared for a second time. Soon the static was only visible in short bursts and the picture slowly took its place. It was faint and unclear for the most part, unlike the events that had gone before and Gene could understand now what Simon meant when he spoke about the footage on the end of Robin's tape. But none the less, this was it. If, when and how Alex was going to find her way home was about to become an awful lot clearer to Gene as the answers he'd been desperate for unfolded in front of his eyes.
But at what price knowledge?
X
He was still shaking as he stopped the tape after watching it for the fourth time. He wished he hadn't even seen it once.
Focus on the bloody good side, Gene Hunt, he told himself.
She was coming back. She was going to make it home. He could see that beyond any doubt. For the first time he had tangible evidence rather than a gut feeling that they'd be reunited. That was the part to focus on. That was the part he should be concentrating on. It would surely give him that extra incentive to find Layton and give the bastard exactly what he deserved.
But the things he'd seen.
The things he'd seen.
They were engraved upon his memory now. He would have to live with that. Watching the tape had been his decision and one he needed to make for Alex's sake - her request had been strong and insistent, and he wanted to do as she'd asked.
But now he knew, he couldn't forget.
He stared at the remote. The 'Rec' button stared back at him. Funny, he thought, how easy it would be to press that and erase the tape.
"Shame it doesn't work that way on the brain," he said seriously.
He downed the rest of his scotch and poured one more, then made a silent toast.
"I think I'll be owing you forever," he mumbled to someone who couldn't hear him. And he would.
But at least he knew Alex was coming home. Now it was time to play the waiting game.
~xXx~
2012
She knew that something wasn't right.
The whole feeling, the whole atmosphere... it may have only been a dream but she knew that things were not as she'd left them. As her mind brought back to her images of the familiar corridors of Fenchurch East and the people she missed so much Alex could feel something different in the air. It was a strong darkness, a malevolence in the atmosphere, something threatening and dangerous. She couldn't explain it any better than that. It felt as though everything that she knew and cared for was under threat from something she couldn't quite identify.
The darkness was swirling around in the air, filling the building like smoke from a fire. Her arms were covered with goosebumps and her spine filled with trembles and shudders. She felt her worry growing. Something wasn't right, not right at all.
Gene –
She could see him but she couldn't reach him. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him. Even though she knew it was only a dream it was as close as she could get to holding him tightly, but the dream wouldn't allow it. Something was holding her back, stopping her from reaching him.
"Gene!" she cried, "Gene, I'm here –" but before Gene could respond the darkness swallowed him up in an instant and Alex was left all alone once again.
"DI Drake?"
Where had Gene gone? She looked around desperately for him but there was no sign. Her head turned left and right, he had to be there somewhere –
"DI Drake, why are you still here?"
Something was interrupting the dream. Someone was calling her name. She didn't want to leave the dreamscape – she wanted to seek the source of the darkness, to find out what had engulfed Gene with its misery and whisked him away, but she couldn't stay asleep when someone was shaking her by the arm. Her eyes opened quickly and she gave a slight gasp, born both from the shock of her rude awakening and the nasty feeling that still fell over her as she thought about the dream shed had.
"What?" she demanded, not even sure who she was speaking to. She blinked a couple of times and found a doctor in front of her, the one she had addressed earlier about Layton. She closed her eyes and sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Sorry. I sat down and fell asleep. It's been a long night,"
"What are you doing still waiting here?" the doctor asked her.
Alex wasn't entirely sure.
"My friend is still with her fiancé," she said, realising the doctor knew neither who Robin nor Kim were so her explanation meant nothing to him, "I thought I'd wait to see if there was any news on Mister Layton while she stayed with him."
The doctor nodded.
"I had a feeling you might be waiting around for that," he said, "well, he made it. He's still breathing. He's not woken up yet but he seems to be stable. They brought him in just in time."
Alex wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She really wanted to see him sent down for what he'd done but there was a part of her that longed for him to suffer a slow and painful death. She felt horrible for thinking that.
"Right," she said quietly, adding a slightly awkward; "Well done." She wasn't sure if she was supposed to congratulate the doctor on a life saved or not. There didn't seem to be any particular etiquette about that.
"I would recommend you find your friend and take yourselves home for some proper sleep," the doctor told her, "those chairs aren't the most comfortable place to catch forty winks."
Alex had a feeling Kim wouldn't be leaving for some time but the doctor didn't need to know that.
"Right," she said, "thank you, doctor."
She got to her feet and tried to rub some of the sleep from her eyes. As she checked her watch she realised morning was approaching. Maybe she could convince Kim to at least get some breakfast. The thought of the hospital canteen wasn't exactly appealing but after the strange night they'd both had she thought it would give them both a well-needed distraction for a while.
With one final glance down the corridor she sighed and set off to find Kim. The thought of Layton on the premises sent her blood cold, but an unconscious, half-dead Layton was probably the best kind of Layton anyone was likely to encounter.
~xXx~
1997
Robin knew that sometimes a person was better off not knowing.
He was well aware that something strange had happened when he blacked out but he knew enough to realise that asking about it would only lead to more stress or worry. He was quite sure of that. Simon's overwrought response had made him feel that knowing as little as possible was the best thing so he hadn't even asked about Simon and Gene's heated exchange in CID or what Simon was trying to say after Robin first came round. It was simply best not to know. That didn't stop him from worrying though. Worrying, and wondering. As long as it meant getting both himself and Alex back to their rightful homes then he was willing to stay ignorant and work on tracing Layton instead.
He'd had some success there had been a few interesting pieces of information on the streets. The next step was getting back to the station and hoping that putting them together with both Gene and Simon's discoveries would lead them to the man himself.
His feet were aching as he trudged back to the station. He really needed a bloody car. True, he wouldn't have been able to make use of one right then seeing as he was probably at twice the legal blood alcohol limit but in general he needed a bloody car. Maybe his would suddenly find its way over from 2012? That would be useful. He wondered what kind of postage he'd have to pay to send it back in time.
He walked past a car parked outside of a shop, windows open and radio blaring. Some random DJ was busy waffling about the worst competition ever; something about winning DNA splicing kits for creating a perfect hybrid of the BeeGees and ELO. Robin was wondering whether he actually heard that right or the scotch was taking a while to get out of his system when the radio suddenly gave a loud crackle as he reached the side of the car and he jumped at the sound.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, admonishing himself for being so jumpy, but before he could move on with as much dignity as he had left another voice started to pour from the radio. The DJ seemed to have gone for now. In its place was another voice, one he knew belter maybe than any other.
"Something's going on here, Rob. I mean, right here, right now. They just wheeled Layton in. Overdose."
He had never felt his heart give such a wild beat before. It pumped so hard that he almost clutched his chest. His eyes closed as he whispered the name of the person to whom the voice belonged.
"Kim," he breathed.
He stopped still beside the car, aware that the driver was staring at him and starting to worry that he'd done something wrong. Robin could practically see the 'is there a problem officer?' emerging from his head. He didn't care. He was going nowhere all the time that her voice played out.
"I've been having nightmares about that scummy twat all night. About when he shot me. Or, tried to shoot you. They… they were different."
Her word hit him like a mallet over the head as he recalled his own nightmare during his mysterious blackout only hours before. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. The fact that they'd both had the same altered dream had delivered to him the kind of shock that he'd only ever received when he attempted to fix his X-Box at the same time that Simon was trying to water the plants and he discovered why water and electricity don't mix. He swallowed hard, waiting for more words from Kim but with a fizz and a crackle the static took over and the sound of a radio rolling through the dial like a John Cage composition brought him back to the real world. He opened his eyes and looked accusingly at the man in the car as he retuned his radio.
"Turn that back!" he cried.
The man shuddered.
"No way," he said, "bloody Lightning Seeds coming on after the ads, can't stand them."
"I need you to turn back that radio," Robin insisted frantically.
"I was only listening to it for the competition!" the driver protested, "got my own genetic laboratory set up, just waiting for a chance to snag the right DNA splicing kit!"
"It's police business," Robin told him, fishing for his ID.
The driver looked at him incredulously but he didn't want to end up spending a night in the cells for refusing an officer the chance of listening to Sugar Coated Iceberg so he went back to the last station he'd been listening to and awaited Robin's response. Sure enough, Kim had been replaced by Ian Broudie and friends.
#...I'm sinking deep, I'm going under
That sugar coated iceberg tastes so sweet…#
"Shit!" cursed Robin, thumping his fists on the roof of the car, his forehead following a moment later.
"My thoughts exactly," the anti-Lightning Seeds extremist agreed.
Robin breathed deeply as he leaned against the car. It wasn't fair. He'd been so close to hearing more from her but her message had been cut short, and all because of a song the driver didn't like. Damn that bloody iceberg, sugar coated or otherwise. He took a few moments to compose himself. He tried to reason that if he'd heard Kim on the radio and seen her on the TV then he would somehow receive another message sooner or later. For now he would have to pull himself together and get back to the station because there was a certain DCI who was going to be very interested to hear what Layton was doing in 2012.
X
He managed to arrive in the car park as Simon was pulling up. It was strange; they may no longer have been together but there were still moments of synchronicities and coincidences that went on between them. Despite the awkwardness that still existed there, Robin hoped those little moments showed that they would at least still be friends. He didn't want to lose that connection.
"Hey," he said quietly as he approached him. Simon knocked his head on the roof of the car, swore and cursed himself silently for showing himself up. He hoped that Robin hadn't noticed. He knew the chances were against it, but denial was a wonderful thing.
"Hi," he said, trying not to rub his thumping head, "just got back?" he asked unnecessarily.
Robin nodded.
"I'd have been back sooner if it wasn't for some twat with a phobia of the Lightning Seeds," he said.
"Did you get any information about Layton?" Simon asked.
"Not as much as I hoped," Robin sighed, "at least I've got some idea of the area he's covering. How about you?"
Simon was looking a little pale.
"Hospital gave me a lovely long list of everything that killed those people" he said, "It's just horrific, Rob, he's pumping absolute poison onto the streets." He gave a shudder. "And I really feel for the one who snorted Ajax."
Robin involuntarily rubbed his nose and flinched.
"I'm not sure I can ever stand to clean the bath again," he said.
They exchanged the briefest of smiles. It was nice; familiar, comfortable. Both looked away a little awkwardly afterwards. Neither really knew what pitch their friendship would reach, with Simon still hoping deeply for more and Robin still buried in guilt for hurting him. Eventually Robin nodded toward the station.
"We'd better go and tell Gene what we know," he began, "and find out if he got that tape."
"And make sure he survived intact," said Simon.
"I don't think even Keats could get the better of Gene," said Robin.
"I didn't mean Keats. I was thinking about the Best of Wham video I found down there once."
Both shuddering from that thought, they made their way into the station and up to CID, each silent and lost in their own thoughts. As they approached Gene's office they found the blinds drawn which seemed strange.
"Maybe we should wait –" Robin began but he door opened as though it had a sensor attached to it. It was hard to know who was more surprised; Simon and Robin or Gene who was siring on the edge of his desk, a glass in his hand and his skin pale. The moment he saw them he jumped to his feet and strode to the TV where lines of static were jumping and sparking all over the place.
"Don't know what you do in two thousand and bollocks but here in the nineties there's still such a thing as knocking, you know," he said crossly as he jabbed at the eject button and watched the tape slide out from the machine.
"You found the tape then?" Simon asked.
Gene held the cassette in his hand.
"Yes."
Robin waited for more information, desperate to know what Gene had seen. When he offered no details he prompted;
"Well? What did you see?"
Gene closed his eyes momentarily.
"Nothing," he said bluntly.
Simon and Robin glanced at each other then turned back to Gene.
"Nothing at all?" frowned Simon.
"Nothing at all," Gene repeated.
"What happened?" frowned Robin, "couldn't you find the right one?"
Gene looked at Robin for a second, then turned away.
"The tape was blank," he mumbled his lie, "Jimbo must have swapped them over."
"Are you sure there wasn't another –" Simon began but Gene cut him off.
"Leave it, Shoebury," he said crossly, "there was nothing on the tape. It was a dead end. We'll just have to keep looking for Layton and trust Bols to get back by herself."
"But –" Robin began, stopping as he watched Gene break open the top of the cassette and pull handfuls of black tape out from within which he tore and scrunched up in his hand. The pieces of the tape tumbled from his grasp into the bin and he folded his arms. That was the last he was going to say on the matter, despite the way they both looked at him. They didn't need to know. It was bad enough that gene had to see it, he didn't want them to have to live with the knowledge too. He couldn't bring himself to look at Robin at all. It wasn't his job to pass that message on.
"Tape was a dud," he said firmly, "So move on. What have you got for me?" he turned to Simon. That seemed safest. "Shoebury? Did the docs cough up anything about the secret ingredient Layton's been adding to his sherbet?"
Simon reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He eyed Gene suspiciously, still unsure what to make of his reaction to the video.
"This is what they have so far," he said, "looks like he's got no qualms about bulking it up to make it go further, he's used everything from rat poison to cleaning products." He placed another file on the desk. "I checked to see if any of the post mortems have been done yet. These are the two that have been completed."
Gene took the files and began to flick though them. His expression twisted with horror, his disgust plain to see.
"Bit of plain flour not good enough any more," he commented. He glanced at Robin. "Any news from the streets, Batman?"
"There's a picture building of the area he's focussing his efforts in," he explained. He pulled a map from his coat and unfolded it. "Ive started to mark out the boundaries here. The blue dots and lines are where he's been confirmed as taking over Nailer's business, the red ones are the areas where he's suspected as being involved."
"Christ, you're an even bigger geek than I remember," Gene stared over the map, "you're even colour-coding the criminal underworld!" he shook his head, "I suppose all the ink and metal in the world isn't enough to counteract the nerd in you."
"Fine, I'll take my geeky map back then," Robin frowned, reaching for it but Gene grabbed it and pulled it back.
"I said it was geeky, didn't say it wasn't useful," he told him. He folded the map and tucked it into his pocket then stood up and moved to the door. "Right. Time for some real information."
"Where are we going?" Robin asked as he and Simon made to follow.
"Got a snout I think might have some news for us," Gene explained, "he was a good friend of Mister Nailer himself for a while." He sighed, "until he sold us his whereabouts when we were trying to catch the bugger a couple of years ago. Don't think they've exactly been bosom buddies since then. "
"What's his name?" asked Robin.
"Everyone calls him Sniff," said Gene.
"Sniff the Snout?" Simon found the name somewhat amusing, "why 'Sniff'?"
"It's not because of a chronic case of hayfever, put it that way," Gene told them. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and handed them to Simon. "You're driving."
Simon couldn't have been more surprised if Gene had turned green, started dancing the Macarena and announced he was leaving the force for a career in showbiz.
"You're… you're letting me drive your car?" he asked incredulously, sure there was a trick at play, "the Aston Martin? The car you were threatening to fit a…. a what was it? A butt-cheeks immobiliser in so that it wouldn't start if anyone but you sat in the driver's seat?"
"Forgot where I was and topped up me glass a couple of times too many," Gene said shortly, "don't feel like trashing me car today." he rolled his eyes at the smug look on Simon's face. "And anyway, I still think the butt-cheeks immobiliser is a bloody good idea."
"Better than your other security feature, playing clips of British sporting failures across the windscreen to destroy the morale of the would-be thief," Simon commented. He dangled the keys in front of Robin's face. "I'm driving the Aston Martin," he said smugly.
"You'll be driving to the dole queue if you don't get a move on," Gene threatened.
"Right," Simon said awkwardly, "sorry." He hung his head a little, embarrassed by his overreaction, and slunk out of the door. Robin made to follow him but at the last minute he felt a hand on his shoulder as Gene held him back.
"Robin."
Robin frowned as he glanced behind him. Why was Gene using his real name instead of calling him Batman?
"Hmm?" he frowned.
He noticed that Gene had a strange expression on his face. He looked awkward and pained; almost sad in a way. He appeared laden with things he wanted to say but just didn't know how to put them to words. He looked down and took a deep breath before finally, if awkwardly, looking Robin in the eye.
"When you go home," he began, "will you give Stringer a message from me?"
Robin frowned as a strange shudder went down his spine. This was… weird. This was very strange indeed.
"Uh, sure," he said, "I… can do that. What do you want me to say?"
"Tell her…" Gene hesitated. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Tell her if she ever finds herself back here…" he hesitated, "she's welcome to raid me scotch any time."
Robin stared back at Gene, his eyes full of question marks. Gene's request didn't make a lot of sense to him. Kim hadn't even been mentioned in the conversation, and since when did he voluntarily open up the offer of scotch? Robin opened his mouth to probe Gene further but Gene's expression stopped him dead in that line of thought. It was so strained that Robin didn't dare press him about it. Apart from anything, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Sure," he said eventually, "I'll do that."
Gene gave a nod of thanks and walked from the office, leaving Robin's mind in a spin. His instincts told him it had to do with the shredded tape in the bin but it was impossible to know for sure. for now he had to follow the others and concentrate on the task at hand, otherwise he may never get back to pass the cryptic message on.
~xXx~
2012
He really did not feel good.
Not good at all.
As he slowly awoke everything felt weak and shaky, and here was a strong sense of nausea welling inside of him. Oh god, it was like every bad high and horrible comedown all at once.
Layton opened one eye. Where the fuck was he? Not in his prison cell, that was for sure. The last thing he remembered… well, he remembered finally going to the stash he'd been putting aside. The pressure had been too much, the depression setting in so deeply that he needed that high. He needed to revisit that all-encompassing feeling of ecstasy to make everything else fade away for a while.
This was no all-encompassing feeling of ecstasy.
This felt like a bad package holiday with a group of DIY enthusiasts.
He tried to move. His limbs were aching and they felt like lead. He found to his horror that he could only move his left arm a short way and when he looked he realised this was down to the handcuffs that were joining him to the bed. Shit.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to beat down the wave of vomit that was threatening to make an escape. It wasn't just the comedown and the treatment for the overdose that was making him feel that way, it was the strange sense of déjà vu that the whole situation brought his way. This was familiar – so familiar – but not necessarily to him. He thought about the charges that had been brought against him, the ones he had no memory of carrying out. All those crimes that started from when he apparently woke from his coma and escaped from the hospital – except that wasn't really him.
He had no idea that Keats had hijacked his body back then; he didn't know what had happened. All he knew was, those crimes were going to get him sent down for many years and they weren't even down to him. If he'd committed them then fair enough - but getting sent down for things he hadn't done? That was the aspect of the situation that made his blood boil over.
And now here he was, waking in hospital, just like his charges alleged happened once before.
"Hello, Arthur."
The voice made him turn his head sharply. He hadn't realised there was anyone beside him before. Now he saw her; the doctor who was busily checking his drip.
"Back with us? Good to see that."
Layton tried to focus on her as she made a note on his chart.
"Where am I?" he grunted, "what happened?"
"Your cell mate found you choking," he doctor explained, "you took an overdose and needed help to come round."
"Where am I?" he repeated.
"Fenchurch General," the doctor told him.
Layton hesitated. Fenchurch General? Not the prison hospital? Must have been really serious then, he realised. He glanced at the doorway where a uniformed officer was standing guard. One lowly copper. That's all he was worth.
He closed his eyes as he thought about it. All those things they said he'd done, all those crimes he had no memory of committing, and now here he was, back in the hospital, for real this time.
All those crimes. The ones he'd read about over and over but still knew nothing of. They were like a set of instructions; a step by step guide to breaking out of hospital. Shit, what was this? Poetic justice? Finally payback for all the time he'd been accused of those acts when he knew he hadn't done any such thing? If he'd already been accused of them… if he was already facing jail for them… he might as well actually do them.
The glimmer of hope that filled his mind brought a far stronger high than he'd have found in a lifetime's supply of narcotics. This was his chance. Justice awaited beyond those hospital walls. Freedom was so close that he could almost taste it – and thanks to Keats's previous escape he knew exactly what to do.
Nothing was going to stop him, and for a very good reason:
Because this was fate.
~xXx~
#...Two faces
Playing with my trust in you
You cover all your traces
And watch me relax with you
Insidious
Creep away and do your deal
Return what you think is you
It couldn't be further from the truth
(So) cruel, Keeping this a secret
Fool, you surely are
It's so You, Blind to all the damage done
You go too far
Couldn't you have told me before
I would have loved you, So much more
Couldn't you have told me before
Feeling like an outlaw
So you got some
You brought another person
Uncanny how he looks like you
Except there is too much he cannot do
It's not the problem
But the way you shut your mouth was real low
My reputation tainted
I will not accept being the last to know
(So) cruel, Keeping this a secret
Fool, you surely are
It's so You, Blind to all the damage done
You go too far
Couldn't you have told me before
I would have loved you, So much more
Couldn't you have told me before
Feeling like an outlaw…#
~ Outlaw – Olive
~xXx~
A/N: The story climax is close now; the chapter after the next one in fact! Here's a heads up now that the climax of the story is going to be a lo-o-o-o-o-ong chapter so although the next one will probably be up tomorrow it might be a 2 or 3 days after that before the next one is complete - especially one handed! :D so a reminder now that the poll on my profile closes on Sunday night if you haven't voted yet – there's a run-away winner but there are three choices level for second place so I need tie-breakers!