A/N: Just sneaking on while waiting for the Eurovision voting to take place to post a shortish chapter! Shh! :)
~xXx~
Chapter Thirty One
Robin had little recollection of anything that happened during the night. He remembered flashes of fevered dreams, but their content made little sense. He remembered screaming and crying but not for how long nor whether he ever stopped. He moved slowly out of bed, trying to keep himself together.
"Where, um," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "what happened to my shirt?"
"You soaked it through with sweat," Simon said quietly, "I had to help you off with it. I hung it over here." He fetched the shirt from the radiator and handed it to Robin awkwardly. He admitted silently to himself that he found it difficult to recognise Robin as the same man he'd been with for all those years as he caught sight of his body. Between the tattoos that Kim had etched across is torso to cover and detract from the scars Keats's attack left him with to the definition of his chest where a year of gym membership had changed his build, it was like looking at a different person.
"Thanks."
Robin took the shirt and gave it a cautious sniff. Simon wasn't wrong about the sweat. He closed his eyes for a moment, horrified at the thought of travelling back while stinking to high heaven. He felt stupid for even worrying about that. It wasn't important. In fact, very little seemed important now. He sat at the edge of the bed and slipped his arms into the shirt, then slowly fastened the buttons. He struggled, his fingers shaking from a mix of the bad night's sleep, hangover and emotional pain that were all plaguing him.
"Do you want to go for something to eat?" Simon asked. He wasn't surprised as Robin shook his head. "Or I could bring you something up?
"I'm not hungry," Robin said quietly.
"You've got to eat something." Simon was a hypocrite and he knew it. He'd barely eaten for months after finding himself stuck in Gene's world. He's survived on caffeine and tranquilisers.
"Later," was all Robin could say.
'Later' hid a multitude of sins and they both knew it. He could have meant in an hour, he could have meant midnight, he wasn't tied to a deadline. Simon shook his head slowly. He knew what it was like to be where Robin was right now. What he didn't know was how to help him, because when it came down to it he remembered that there was nothing anyone could say or do to ease the pain. Only time could help to heal a little of the gaping wounds being separated from love by life and death could bring. Luckily, in Gene's world, time was one thing they had in abundance.
~xXx~
"I don't want to ever see a sausage again," Alex groaned with one hand held dramatically over her forehead.
"That doesn't bode well for me joy department," Gene commented.
"In fact, I don't want to ever eat again," Alex continued, "how many sausages did Nelson buy? He kept telling me he had a good deal… the only way he could have got a good deal on those things would be if the person who sold them to him threw in a timed device to blow the awful things up before anyone had to eat them!"
"No one forced you to eat them, Bolly," Gene told her.
"You don't know what it was like," cried Alex, "you abandoned me with the biggest pile of sausages in the world and a landlord who was so proud of his new bar snacks that he wouldn't take no for an answer!"
"I'll do me best to cure yer fear of sausages tonight," Gene commented as they arrived back at the hotel.
"Surely an offer no woman could refuse," Alex wrinkled up her nose as she climbed out of the car.
~xXx~
Two cars drove back to London from Manchester at just after seven that evening.
Four people spent those journeys in near silence.
X
Simon watched Robin with concern as he walked quietly and solemnly past him, into the flat.
"I know it's late," he began, "but can I get you anything to eat?"
Robin just shook his head as he sat on the couch.
"No thank you," he said quietly.
"You've had nothing all day," Simon pointed out.
"I don't want anything right now," Robin told him.
Simon sank down beside him.
"Rob," he said quietly, "I know… I know how devastated you are right now and I know what you're going through but self-destructing isn't the answer."
Robin looked at him, aghast.
"What?"
"I made the same mistakes," Simon told him, "I didn't care about myself any more so I went to rack and ruin."
Robin got to his feet.
"Oh, Simon, spare me the lecture," he sighed, "I missed one meal, I'm not self-destructing."
"That's exactly how I started," Simon began "I just missed one meal too."
"Well I'm not you," Robin said crossly. He stared at Simon and attempted to cool his frustration. He tried taking a few deep breaths but his anger wasn't going anywhere. He started to walk to the door and really didn't want to turn around as he heard Simon call,
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know," Robin threw his hands in the air, "I just know I can't stay here tonight."
"You need someone to keep an eye on you," Simon told him, "you shouldn't be alone."
"I need to be alone," Robin corrected, "Simon, listen," he took a deep breath, "I get that you're concerned and I appreciate that, I really do." He felt a little of his frustration fading as he exhaled. "The problem is, you went through something similar and you think everyone's going to go the same way. And I'm sorry that things were so bad, I really am, but I'm not…. not on a path to self-destruction." He shook his head slowly. "Shit, Si, I've just lost everything. And nothing that I say or… or do is going to change that. And I think I have every right to be on my own so I can just try to start getting my head around it. I know you have the best will in the world but if you keep pestering me about things like eating then we're going to start fighting again and after everything… after all the air we cleared in the car on the way to Manchester, I really, really don't want that." He looked seriously at Simon. "Look. I got pulled back into this world on a fucking permanent basis last night which is about the biggest shock you can get in your life. I had a bit too much to drink afterwards and I felt queasy all day. I didn't eat anything because I didn't want to throw up in the car. OK?"
Simon chewed on the inside of his cheek as he stared at Robin.
"OK," he repeated.
"I know you're only worried about me," Robin sad quietly, "but I'm…" he sighed, "I'm not fine, but I'm not going to collapse."
"Sorry," Simon said quietly, "I just remember too well what I went through."
Robin bit his lip.
"I'm not you," he said quietly.
Simon swallowed.
"No, he said quietly, "you're not are you?" he looked down "Everyone used to say we were two of a kind. Two peas in a pod. Like two halves of the same person."
"We were," said Robin, "in some ways. On the outside."
Simon stared at him.
"But you and Kim were the same on the inside?" he asked quietly. He saw Robin looking down awkwardly. "It's OK. You don't have to answer that."
Robin shuffled towards the door.
"I'd better go," he said quietly.
"Go where?"
"I'll find somewhere."
Robin didn't want to talk any more. He wanted to be alone, to think in peace and to be able to cry without being asked if he was alright every five seconds. He knew this was only the very start of a long and painful journey to learn how to live without Kim. The thought of never seeing her face again scared him beyond belief. But one thing was for certain- she'd helped him to grow too strong to curl up and die.
~xXx~
"It's late, Gene," Alex said as she rolled over in bed, "and I'm tired. It's been a terrible couple of days. Let's just get some sleep. Just –" she paused, "I just want you to hold me."
Gene frowned. Things had been lacking in the bedroom department since her return. He could understand that – there were many reasons why nothing had happened yet. Alex had only been back a few days and was still sore and exhausted. The trauma of their baby being left behind in 2012 had scarred her so deeply that bedroom shenanigans were the last thing on her mind too. And aside from anything else life had just been increasingly insane.
But Gene couldn't deny that he was growing increasingly desperate for the physical side of their relationship to spring back into action. He felt as though that would be the moment he really believed she was back. He didn't want to hurry her, after all she had been through he knew she needed time, but as much as he relished the feel of her body beside him as he wrapped his arms around her he yearned for more.
Alex felt a little guilty as she rebuffed Gene's advances. She knew how much he wanted it. Hell, she did too. And it was true that she was still hurting physically from the gunshot wound and emotionally from being parted from their baby but there was more to it than that. She wasn't quite the woman that Gene used to know.
She bit her lip as she thought about the little tattoo on her stomach, taking the place of a bullet wound that her old body had worn. He hadn't seen t yet. She'd told him about the tattoo just after she'd made it back to his world before, but she always had the feeling that Gene hadn't believed she'd had a tattoo. She didn't know why she was so nervous about the thought of Gene seeing it but she couldn't stop worrying about what he would think – not just about her having a tattoo but the fact that the scar was no more.
One tiny difference in her physical body felt like something so much bigger on an emotional level. She knew that soon she would have to tell Gene and to show him the ink beneath her skin
But not tonight, she thought to herself
~xXx~
Gene walked through CID, papers in hand.
"Guv –" a voice called but Gene held up his hand.
"Not officially here until tomorrow," he said, "consider me a big bloody mirage."
Despite both helping with the Keats and Layton tracking, and following Robin and Simon up to Manchester, Gene wasn't ready for Alex to stat work again full time yet. Nor were her official papers. She had another few days off and Gene was determined to make her honour at least one of them. He decided to pick up his post and a few pieces of paperwork early, before Alex awoke, to stop any arguments before they even started.
He opened the door to his office, marched through, threw the papers on his desk and screamed like an idiot as a head shot up from his chair.
"ARGH!" Gene knew the second the sound escaped that whoever owned the surprise head had now head him scream like a girl. He also knew whoever owned the head would have to die so as never to be able to reveal this fact. Luckily for him the head screamed back so they were at least even. Eventually he calmed down enough to see that the head belonged to Robin.
"You mind telling me what you're doing in my office?" he demanded.
Robin rubbed his eyes and bit his lip guiltily.
"Sleeping?" he said.
"In my bloody chair?" Gene narrowed his eyes, "No one sits in my chair, I don't care who they are; Batman, Superman, Spiderman - superheroes can get the hell out."
"I'm sorry," Robin scrambled up. He should have known Gene's chair was far and away off limits.
"What were you doing sleeping in my office anyway?" Gene demanded.
"I had to get out of the flat," Robin said quietly, "I was in danger of killing Simon otherwise." He shook his head, "I appreciate that he wants to help. Not that he realty can. But he's going to drive me crazy."
"Killing you with kindness?" Asked Gene before he realised how tactless that sentence was. He flinched and shook his head. How many decades had he been in that world? And yet unintentional puns never seemed to end. "Don't you have an office of yer own to sleep in?"
"The flushing toilets were keeping me awake," Robin protested.
Gene rolled his eyes. This was not a good start to the day.
"Think it's time for you to get your backside out my office," he scowled.
Robin grabbed his coat and nodded.
"Sorry," he said as he walked to the door.
Gene folded his arms as he took a seat and stared at Robin while he disappeared from the office.
"Now I need the nerd repellent to disinfect me chair," he sighed.
~xXx~
Alex was looking unhappy and somewhat scared when Gene got home. He wondered what was going on at first until she pointed to a wall on which not only was the life-sized Lister poster back but it had been joined by ones of Rimmer, Cat and Kryten too.
"Gene, it's back!" she cried, hiding behind him a little, "it was bad enough finding out you'd managed to sneak out before I woke up, then I came in here to drink my coffee and Lister was back… and this time he's brought friends…"
"Bloody Batman," cried Gene, "now he's given up his season ticket to Heartbeat City his flat's decided to throw him a welcome party!" He shuddered as he felt sure Lister was trying to outstare him and – despite him being a poster and therefore guaranteed to win - Gene was tempted to take him up on the challenge. He shook his head a little. The flat was definitely sculpted around Robin. Shifting out his clothes and geeky posters didn't change that. His heart was heavy admitting it but it wasn't his and Alex's home any more.
"Why are they staring at me like that?" Alex demanded.
"They've been stuck in space for three million years, if you turned up on their bloody ship I can guarantee they wouldn't take their eyes off you," Gene told her.
Alex frowned and followed as Gene started to walk to the kitchen.
"And where have you been anyway?" she asked.
"Had to pick up a few things," Gene told her, "not planning to spend the day stuck in me office when I could be saving you from geek posters." He handed her the sheets of paper he'd taken from work. "Got some interesting news for you though."
"Does it involve finding a way to stop unwanted posters from rematerializing?"
"No, it involves how to stop the devil dematerialising."
That made Alex stop and listen.
"What?" she asked quietly.
"DCI Jim Keats is apparently still in hospital," Gene told her, "no disappearing, no vanishing, no fading away to thin air – he's still strapped to 'is bed, gnashing his teeth and spitting fury."
"Are you sure?" Alex scanned the sheet for information, "nothing's ever held him before. What's different about these restraints?"
"Not much," said Gene, "I don't think it's down to them. Think it's down to the monster with the twisted head who's brain has done a loop-de-loop so many times that he's gone mad enough to stop himself from being able to escape."
"Is that possible?"
"You didn't see him, Bols," Gene rubbed his temples as he thought about it, "He hadn't just lost the plot, he'd written a whole new one. He'd flipped. He couldn't control his own drool let alone organise a mass limb meltdown."
"He could just be biding his time," Alex said warily, "staying put so that no one can try to get to him. Perhaps to add credibility if he tries to plead insanity when he goes to trial."
"No, believe me," Gene told her, "he's not staying of his own free will. Geoff's on bed baths - I checked."
Alex was truly shocked. Keats could pull off a disappearing act whenever he damn well liked, but somehow things were different this time. With the energy twisting him more deeply all the time he was trapped in his bed and trapped by humanly restraints.
"Couldn't happen to a nicer person," she said firmly.
Gene folded away the papers. He agreed with Alex. If anyone deserved to be stuck in a place he didn't want to be it was Keats. But he couldn't shake the worry that nothing was ever that simple.
~xXx~
#...I don't expect my love affairs to last for long
Never fool myself that my dreams will come true
Being used to trouble I anticipate it
But all the same I hate it, wouldn't you?
So what happens now?
Another suitcase in another hall
So what happens now?
Take your picture off another wall
Where am I going to?
You'll get by, you always have before
Where am I going to?
Time and time again I've said that I don't care
That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through and through
But every time it matters all my words desert me
So anyone can hurt me, and they do
So what happens now?
Another suitcase in another hall
So what happens now?
Take your picture off another wall
Where am I going to?
You'll get by, you always have before
Where am I going to?
Call in three months' time and I'll be fine, I know
Well maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow
I won't recall the names and places of each sad occasion
But that's no consolation here and now.
So what happens now?
Another suitcase in another hall
So what happens now?
Take your picture off another wall
Where am I going to?
You'll get by, you always have before
Where am I going to?
Don't ask anymore…#
~ Another Suitcase In Another Hall - Madonna