Maya stared, eyes wide, and something in Gene's stomach clenched and bit down with tiny poisoned teeth, and he could no longer be sure if he was choking on bile or on his own shame. His hand clenched, relaxed, and he wrenched his arm free of Sam's grip with a snarl.
Sam stepped smoothly between him and Maya, accusation in his eyes, and was this what he'd come to? This?
He forced words out through gritted teeth, around Sam. "And what would your mum think, if she saw you like this? What would she think if she saw the whole filthy lot of us?"
"She'd think," Sam said, biting out each word, "that you need to leave, Hunt. She'd think you need to leave right now." But that wasn't where Gene's attention was... Behind Sam, Maya was muttering something, something he didn't quite catch, but which made Sam's back stiffen.
"And what was that, luv?"
"I said," Maya replied, tears in her voice, "that it doesn't fucking matter, does it? You won't talk about her, you won't do anything, either of you. All you do is you pretend she was never here, like she never even existed..."
Gene stepped back, under the weight of accusation from them both, the weight of Sam's shame joining his like the two together could crush the life out of everything in the room easy as squashing a bug.
Yeah, he should leave, quick as he could, before it got worse, before he started something worse than he could imagine, but even as he turned away, he found himself speaking.
"Your mum," he said, his voice rasping in his throat, "your mum was one of the best lady -- one of the best coppers that ever worked under me. Clever enough to make foxes look like a set of dunces, one and all, and..."
There was a noise from Sam, then, something choked and painful, but he didn't dare look back.
"...and she never once gave up on any case I put her on, not here or in Manchester, not ever..."
Sam would throw him out, he knew, any minute now, but there was no motion from behind him, and he kept talking.
He'd never been good at mending things, not with hands or words, but he talked until his throat ran dry and his hands knotted uselessly around the air and no one stopped him.
"He doesn't have to leave," Maya said from somewhere behind him, once the words were dead in his throat and there was no getting them back.
"No, luv," he said, still not looking back. "I do."
"Gene," Sam said, and then, "Don't."
"You saw what happened, Tyler. Best I do what Annie would've wanted."
There was no answer, and he really didn't expect one, but at his next step towards the door, a hand caught his arm once more.
no subject
Sam stepped smoothly between him and Maya, accusation in his eyes, and was this what he'd come to? This?
He forced words out through gritted teeth, around Sam. "And what would your mum think, if she saw you like this? What would she think if she saw the whole filthy lot of us?"
"She'd think," Sam said, biting out each word, "that you need to leave, Hunt. She'd think you need to leave right now." But that wasn't where Gene's attention was... Behind Sam, Maya was muttering something, something he didn't quite catch, but which made Sam's back stiffen.
"And what was that, luv?"
"I said," Maya replied, tears in her voice, "that it doesn't fucking matter, does it? You won't talk about her, you won't do anything, either of you. All you do is you pretend she was never here, like she never even existed..."
Gene stepped back, under the weight of accusation from them both, the weight of Sam's shame joining his like the two together could crush the life out of everything in the room easy as squashing a bug.
Yeah, he should leave, quick as he could, before it got worse, before he started something worse than he could imagine, but even as he turned away, he found himself speaking.
"Your mum," he said, his voice rasping in his throat, "your mum was one of the best lady -- one of the best coppers that ever worked under me. Clever enough to make foxes look like a set of dunces, one and all, and..."
There was a noise from Sam, then, something choked and painful, but he didn't dare look back.
"...and she never once gave up on any case I put her on, not here or in Manchester, not ever..."
Sam would throw him out, he knew, any minute now, but there was no motion from behind him, and he kept talking.
He'd never been good at mending things, not with hands or words, but he talked until his throat ran dry and his hands knotted uselessly around the air and no one stopped him.
"He doesn't have to leave," Maya said from somewhere behind him, once the words were dead in his throat and there was no getting them back.
"No, luv," he said, still not looking back. "I do."
"Gene," Sam said, and then, "Don't."
"You saw what happened, Tyler. Best I do what Annie would've wanted."
There was no answer, and he really didn't expect one, but at his next step towards the door, a hand caught his arm once more.
Maybe it was enough. But then, maybe it wasn't.