Rating: Green Cortina
Word Count: 444
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Gene
Summary: A deleted scene in 2.08. Yes, it is, really.
Disclaimer: They're not mine and no money has exchanged hands.
He went to Gene. After arrests had been made and the accused locked away, after his report had been neatly typed up and left on Rathbone's desk, only then did Sam go to Gene in the hospital.
"You took your time," Gene grumbled, accepting the offered half bottle of Bell's.
"Villains to bang up, reports to type out," Sam told him blithely, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I knew you'd be well looked after."
Gene grunted and took a healthy swig from the bottle. "Staff Nurse Jones fancies me," he said.
Sam frowned and leaned in closer, pulling at Gene's eyelids with his finger and thumb. Gene swatted the hand away. "How much pain medication have they given you? Should you be drinking?" Sam asked.
Gene shrugged, answering, "Nowhere near enough," to the first question and ignoring the second.
Sam pulled back and looked around the room. "Get yourself changed," he said. He caught a look of irritation on Gene's face. "You're being discharged, aren't you?"
"I would be," Gene said, raising his voice and glaring at the nurse's station. "Except they've hidden my clothes." To Sam he said, "Apparently, some quack has to poke at me a bit more before he'll decide I can go home. I can't leave in this…" he flapped his hand at the green hospital gown he was wearing and raised his voice again for the benefit of any nurses that might be nearby, "… it doesn't even cover my arse!"
"You'd have a job finding anything that big," Sam pointed out.
Gene winced and lay back down on the bed, pain marring his features.
"Do you want something?" Sam asked. "I can get a nurse."
"I want a blowjob," Gene said. "A near-death experience always makes me randy."
"Breathing makes you randy," Sam told him. He sat down on the bed and gently pulled the blanket away from Gene's injured leg. He trailed the backs of his fingers lightly over the taut white bandage wrapped around Gene's thigh and watched Gene watching his fingers.
"You were leaving," Gene said. The words were accusing, but the tone was not.
"I was," Sam agreed in the same tone. He turned his hand over and pressed his palm against the bandage, as if his hands had some miracle healing touch. "I'm not now."
"What happened to all your friends in Hyde? The ones who loved you? The ones you couldn't wait to get back to?"
Sam lifted his hand and pulled the blanket back, smoothing it down over Gene's hip and thigh. He looked up again and met the questioning look. He smiled.
"Figments of my imagination," he said.