Title: Identity Crisis
Rating: White Cortina
Pairing: None. Sam and Gene gen.
Word Count: 417 words
Notes: 2x08 spoilers, set post-canon. Sam's having a bit of an identity crisis, Gene sets him right.
Gene finds him standing in front of a headstone with his own name on it. Tyler’s soaked through to the bone and shivering, but he doesn’t seem to notice, gives no sign that he’s aware of Gene’s approach. Gene raps him on the head a couple of times with his knuckles to check there’s still someone home. Sam starts and takes a step back, almost topples over on the uneven ground. Gene refuses to put a hand out to catch him, but Sam manages to steady himself anyway, blinking across at Gene like he’s never seen him before. He looks pathetic, hair stuck to his head, but Gene’s been out in the pissing rain too now and supposes he doesn’t look much better.
“Going to tell me what all this is in aid of, then?” Gene gestures to the stone.
Sam shakes his head. “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.”
Talks very little sense, as usual. Gene decides to make it simple for him. “So, are you Williams or Tyler?”
“I don’t know; this is what I’m trying to tell you. I made my choice, I came back, and I’m glad I did, but…sometimes I just need to think.”
“Morgan messed with your head, Sam. He used you, caught you at your most vulnerable –“
“I am not vulnerable,” Sam snaps back immediately, and as he shakes his head water droplets fly off in all directions. He glares at Gene reproachfully.
“Says the man standing in front of me, sopping wet and shaking.”
Sam ignores him, goes back to staring at the grave.
Gene’s patience is wearing thin; plus, he’s freezing. “For goodness’ sake, Tyler, it’s just a bloke who happened to have the same name.”
“No, it’s more complicated than that,” Sam insists.
“Only when you make it so!”
“Do you want to be a figment of my imagination?”
“Not really, no. Must be a bloody scary place inside your brain.”
“It is.” Sam nods, then finally turns away from the stone. “I just don’t know who I am anymore.” He sighs.
Gene takes hold of Sam’s elbow and starts dragging him towards the Cortina. The rain has turned to light drizzle now, but he’d still like to get in the warm.
“You’re my DI, and now you’re going to buy me a pint. Several, if you insist on more of this whining. Got it?”
Sam hesitates for a long moment, tugs his arm out of Gene’s grip. Eventually, he meets Gene’s gaze. “Yes, Guv.”