Sam Tyler fics

[talkingtothesky]

Have been working on my fanfic100claim Sam Tyler for some time now. Hopefully I'll be able to get some more of these posted very soon. :)

Title: Losing Control
Prompt: #62 Spring
Rating: PG (White Cortina)
Warning: Overuse of metaphor. ;P
Words: 185
Summary: He’s scrabbling for control, trying to find a semblance of the order he once had.

It coils around his insides, stretching and squeezing, restrained and contorted, pulsing with the rhythm of his heart. It has been pushed further than ever thought possible, dangled over the edge, reeled back in, thrown out into space and then thrust back down his throat again. Stretched and compressed, twisted around and around and all the while he’s scrabbling for control, to find a semblance of the order he once had.

 

Sometimes he finds himself pausing, hands clamped firmly over his ears, just so he can hear it rattling away in there, furiously struggling for release. And he holds onto it, with all that he has left, for without it he won’t remember who he is, where he’s come from or what he’s fighting for.

 

He’s losing, he knows. There are times when he’s wanted to give up, because who wants to battle for a lost cause, anyway? But always he reins the thought in, keeps it hidden; buries it under a ton of concrete and sandbags and hopes that will be enough.

 

And all the while, Sam wonders when his sanity will finally snap.

Title: Listen
Prompt: #66 Rain
Rating: PG-13 (Green Cortina)
Words: 265
Warning: Implied character death.
Summary: And not once does he think ‘Wake up, please wake up now.’

Water runs in rivulets over his pale features, slides over the creases at the edges of his eyes. Sam stares blankly up at the swirling mass of grey above him, watches as the storm gathers its forces and wages war on the landscape. And some war it is. Bullets pelt down in sheets from the heavens, cold as ice and sharp as needles. Flashes of light tear through the sky, followed seconds later by the ominous, throaty growl of an animal; caged and venting its fury. 

 
And not once does he think ‘Wake up, please wake up now.’

Instead he simply lets his hands fall to his sides, and watches the show with a sense of complete detachment. Everything feels out of sync – it always has done, he realises. And while the rain falls hard and fast against his shivering body, the blood spreads incredibly slowly, oozing away like strawberry syrup.

 

Some logical part of his brain is telling him he really ought to do something about the knife in his chest, but right now he’s happy to watch the clouds vent their frustration on him. He’s not frightened of the animal in the sky. Wonders how he got all the way up there, sure. Is he trapped, too? Is this just his way of reminding people that he’s here? Except nobody listens, because no-one understands. But Sam understands. Perhaps he can keep him company.

 

Bedraggled people go to work on a drizzly Monday morning, frowning at the cloudy skies and dreaming of holidays in Spain or Mexico. But out there, somewhere, Sam Tyler smiles.

Title: Guide You Home
Prompt: #71 Broken
Rating: PG-13 (Green Cortina)
Words: 294
Warning: Spoilers for Season 2 Finale
Summary: He is frozen where he stands, arms raised and cowering on the edge.
Notes: Lyrics are from Coldplay's "Fix You"

He is frozen where he stands, arms raised and cowering on the edge. Just one step, in either direction, could decide his fate now. And he needs more time. He’d been so sure, so desperate; certain enough to do everything in his power to shatter this fragile existence. Now he simply can’t decide, doesn’t know what to do, where to go, his heart is ripped in two and how did it ever come to this?

 

Lights will guide you home.

 

It pulses, burns so brightly he has to squint. He has no time left. No time for second thoughts, no way to overcome the inevitable. The beeping is growing more insistent, loud and monotonous. He’s done it, now. He’s going back.

 

There are voices, jumbled and airy, echoing in the tunnel of light and dark, right and wrong, real and unreal. But his static mind won’t let him decipher their meaning, won’t let him decide and he stands there, twisting back and forth, trying to make sense of it all.

 

No time. It’s calling for him. Reaching out, enveloping him in warmth and white and for a second he feels as if he’s floating. And then he’s left blinking, the white bound tightly around him and the steady bleeps of machinery continue their relentless march.  

 

And ignite your bones.

 

His room is so, so quiet. Yet inside he is screaming all over, because this is wrong, wrong, wrong and he can’t remember why he ever thought it would be worth it.

Comments make me very happy! :)