LIFE ON MARS: Stages of Death

By: Curiosity's Principle

Author's Note: This is set nearly 8 years after the series 2 finale. Those worried about A2A spoilers hear this: I've yet to watch the show. I've heard a few things and seen the first episode BUT this story doesn't follow A2A so it doesn't matter. ie: You don't need to have seen A2A to get it and you won't be getting any huge spoilers from A2A.

Summary: You'd think the hallucinations would've started earlier…Unless they're not hallucinations at all. While trying to get information out of a strangely familiar boy concerning a murder case, Gene finds himself haunted by the angry figment of an old, dead friend. (Don't worry, Sam fans. Tyler definitely has an important role in this story!)


CHAPTER 1: Innocence Then Anger


Gene Hunt strode into A-Division, an angry scowl on his face. He'd just returned from the coroner. A woman had been murdered in a Manchester park, the body identified as one Ilene Hutchison, 39. 'A widower with a heart of gold' according to the neighbor that had identified her. Mrs. Hutchison was not rich, did not appear to be involved in anything illegal nor had she been messing around with any dangerous men. According to the coroner, there were no signs of sexual assault, only some bruises around the face and abdomen and the gunshot wound that had killed her. The fact that there was no purse on her led him to think that it had been a robbery and that really brassed DCI Hunt off. An innocent bird had died so that some prick too lazy to get a job could nick her purse.

A familiar -yet no less annoying because of it- voice in the back of his mind warned him not to jump to conclusions. Gene told it silently to shut up. He wasn't jumping to anything. He was doing his job and doing it thoroughly. The remnant voice's owner would even have agreed had he been there to do so. For the umpteenth time since Sam Tyler's death, Gene found himself alternately blaming himself for not stopping him and blaming Sam for being a ruddy idiot and not listening to Gene's orders.

The DCI stepped up to the front desk, pulling off his black leather gloves. Phyllis wasn't on duty. It was some new plonk named Carol Williams. A bit slow was Carol, Gene thought, but capable.

"Chris and Ray back yet?" he questioned, not even in the mood to make a quip about the excessive amount of make-up Carol had put on.

Carol nodded seeming somewhat disturbed. "Aye, Guv, they have."

"Good," he said, pushing away from the desk towards the stairs. The bird spoke again.

"Guv? They told me to tell you first…"

Gene sighed and spun back towards her in exasperation. "What?"

"They said they found something."

"Whoop-di-flippin'-do. Why couldn't they tell me that themselves?" Gene questioned, already turning back around.

"But-"

"It's all right. They're big boys, WPC Williams. They can tell me on their own. I'd rather hear it from the horse's mouth anyway."

Gene stepped into the office section and immediately noticed something strange. All eyes went to him even as his own squinted into a frown.

"All right, gents. I know you don't get the best pay, but that doesn't mean you can bring yer kids to work just to save money on the baby-sitter."

The four men all looked to each other. In the center of the room, the object of Gene's attention stood up with a somehow familiar frown.

"I don't need a baby-sitter," growled the boy, a dark blond kid with shaggy hair much like Chris's and fierce but fearful eyes. He was lanky and thin and stood just under a meter and a half by Gene's reckoning.

Behind the boy, Ray cleared his throat. "We, uh, we went to the bird's house, just like you said, Guv, to see if we could find anything and- uh-"

Ray looked towards the kid and faded off, but Gene thought he got the idea. It was in the short silence that followed that the boy decided to speak up.

"Those two broke in without a warrant or anything!" the boy exclaimed with the same high and mighty tone Gene identified with someone else. "That's against the law! I wasn't doin' anything wrong."

Gene stalked up to the lad, his close proximity deflating the kid's thunder somewhat.

"We ARE the law, boy," Gene declared. "And don't you forget it!"

The boy scowled at him a moment then looked away.

"So! Now that that's cleared up, time for some questions." It was about then that Gene became aware of the tension in the room. Gene continued anyway. "You were in that house?"

The boy nodded, but didn't elaborate until Gene pushed him.

"Why?"

"I was there for a visit. It's me Auntie's- me Aunt Ilene's flat. I was staying there for the weekend. Vacation."

Gene's eyes softened almost imperceptibly as the boy continued.

"Whatever it is, you've got the wrong person. My aunt wouldn't do anything illegal. She doesn't need to. She's happy."

Gene swallowed and looked up at his officers. None met his gaze. They hadn't told him.

"And like I told them," the kid continued after a breath. "I'm not answering any questions 'til you tell me what's goin' on."

The kid crossed his arms and did his best to look tough. It didn't work. That strangely familiar face was as readable as a kindergartener's bedtime story.

"What's your name?" Gene asked.

"That's a question," came the smart-ass reply. "I'm not answering."

Normally that would be enough to piss Gene off, but the man recognized the boy's fear behind his closed-lip act. Even before Gene sighed, Gene knew that the kid was scared and quickly becoming more so. Gene had informed many people throughout his career that their loved ones had been killed. The majority fell into two groups. Those who didn't believe him at first and those who somehow read in his face the unhappy truth and knew even before he said it. This boy belonged to the latter. His eyes widened and his shoulders sagged.

"I'm sorry, kid," Gene started.

"No…"

"Your aunt has been murdered."

The kid was silent, his hands clenched as he searched the other officers as if hoping for a different opinion. None of them met his eyes, now watery and red. Finally he turned back to Gene.

"Why?" he asked, his small voice cracking.

Gene took a deep breath and straightened. "We don't know yet."

The boy looked away, his eyes seeing nothing as he took a half step back. Gene tensed, knowing that they might have a runner.

"Look," he said sternly. "If you could answer some questions for us, you could help us catch the bastard that did this. Let's start small, eh? What's your name?"

The kid didn't seem to hear him.

"Hey!" Gene snapped his fingers at the boy who started at the sound. You gonna help us nick this villain or what?"

"I… I need to use the bathroom," the boy replied slowly. He was looking pale and though Gene didn't want to wait for the information, he didn't want the smell of vomit stinking up his office either.

"Fine. Larry here will show ya'," Gene told him as he nodded to Larry and gave the man a 'watch him carefully' look. The shorter man nodded and led the boy away, a hand on his shoulder. While the kid got a hold of himself Gene could get the full low-down from Chris and Ray.

Gene had barely turned to them when a shout came from Larry. The DCI spun back in time to see the kid slamming the hallway doors back on Larry as he fled down the hall to the stairs. Larry followed. So did Gene. He dashed into the hall in time to see Larry disappearing down the stairwell. With a shout for the rest for his team to follow, Gene tore down the stairs, through the lobby, and out into the street. He spotted Larry even as he heard Chris and Ray coming up behind him. Gene charged down the way full speed, but never seeming to gain much on Larry or the boy. Maybe Sam had been right about the occasional morning jog.

Just ahead of Larry, the boy turned down a side alley. Gene smiled. They had him now. That alley was a dead end. Not that the thought slowed Gene's pace. He turned down the ally a second later, a string of colourful remarks to fling at the kid running through his head only to see his target mounting the top of the ten foot chain link fence to drop to a dumpster then the street below. The kid didn't stop for a breath, he didn't even look back, he just kept running.

"Get back here!" Gene shouted. "You're obstructing this investigation, you little twonk!

Larry stood at the chain link fence, looking and ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Guv. The little bugger is fast."

Gene scowled, but replied with an "I saw."

Chris and Ray stepped up beside him.

"What now, Guv?" Ray asked.

Gene cast one final glare at the fence before turning away, heading back towards the precinct. The other three followed.

"You never got that kid's name?" Gene asked.

"No, Guv. He wouldn't say," Ray answered.

"Took us ages just to get him to come down to the station with us," Chris put in.

"He called her 'Aunt Ilene'. I thought we said she didn't have any family," Gene replied.

"She didn't," said Larry.

"So was the kid lyin' then?" Gene questioned.

"He knew the victim, definitely. There were photographs of the both of them in her house," Chris said.

Gene nodded thoughtfully. "So he's not blood related then, but still likely our best lead. He was already there when you arrived, right? So he should at least be able to confirm when she left the flat and where she was headed."

"What would that matter, Guv?" Chris asked after a pause.

"That can give us a time table. Where on here route she was killed, if she deviated from what she told the boy. If for some reason she was lying to her 'nephew' that could indicate ulterior motive. And that could tell us…?"

Gene looked to the other three, waiting for them to catch up with his logic.

"That could tell us… whether she might have been mixed up in something nasty after all?" Chris replied questioningly.

"Right," Gene replied with a grin. "Chris, you are now in charge of finding all friends of the victim who might know about the boy. Larry you're with him. Ray, you keep looking into the evidence and the witness reports."

"Aw, Guv, why do I have to sit behind a desk while Chris gets to knock heads?" Ray whined.

Chris grinned broadly. "Well, you got to knock heads last time. It's my turn!"

"This aint about knocking heads. Not unless they're…resistant. These are the friends of the victim, all right?" Gene scolded.

"Yes, Guv."

"None of the people we pulled in actually saw anything," said Ray, though Gene couldn't be sure if it was just to inform him or to try and weasel out of his task.

"Well, go over it all again," Gene demanded. "Get Will and Leonard or whoever to help ya'."

"Yes, Guv."

Gene nodded. His own interrogations hadn't gone well either. After checking in with forensics, Gene had knocked a few heads of his own. Low lifes and homeless people who'd been hanging around the park, but no one had seen anything. The man gave a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long afternoon.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

DCI Hunt had been wrong. The afternoon hadn't been long so much as it was painful. He'd gone back to forensics, who were taking their sweet time with the prints and fiber they'd found on the scene and had nothing to report. Chris was still absent so Gene had to assume he'd found nothing yet on the kid. There was so little to do that Gene had actually sat down to pour over the statements and police reports with Ray.

"There's nothin' here, Guv," Ray complained.

"There's something here. You're just too much of a daft pansy to see it."

God, even his insults weren't up to par anymore. The man sat back and rubbed his eyes. He needed a drink. They all needed a drink. Gene straightened and opened his mouth to suggest as much when Carol stepped in from the hall.

"Guv, there's someone at the front desk to see you. I tried to call but no one picked up," she said awkwardly. This plonk was never going to last if she didn't toughen up a little.

He sighed in the exasperation wondering why he even bothered with the phone. He didn't hear it half the time anyway.

"Well, tell 'em to go away, luv," Hunt replied, stretching in his seat. "I've had enough for today. Me an' the lads were about to head out for a drink."

Carol fidgeted as Ray and the others gave resounding whoops of appreciation.

"But, well, he said you'd probably want to see him," Carol said, her dainty voice straining to be heard over the cheers. "Said his name was Sam Tyler?"

As if someone had closed a door, the background din suddenly went silent. Gene stared at Carol a moment. "Said he was who?"

Carol answered. "Sam Tyler, Guv."

"Is this some kind of sick joke, WPC Williams?" Gene questioned as he stood, anger plain in his voice. The woman shook her head, bewildered by reaction.

"That's what he told me, Guv. Honest!"

Gene glanced back at Ray who was still staring at Carol, but with the same confused disbelief that Gene felt. Gene hesitated for a moment, not sure what he wanted to find out there in the lobby. And then he viciously pushed open the doors, went down the elevator, and strode down the hall. From this angle he saw no one and his anger began to boil. Who the hell had the gall to impersonate a dead officer? He spun back around so as to get a description from Carol, when he noticed for the first time the boy sitting on the bench. The boy they'd lost over the fence. Gene stared at the kid as the strangest feeling of familiarity past over him.

"'ello, Guv," the kid replied with a small wave.

"You?" Gene questioned. "You said you were Sam Tyler?"

Ray and Carol appeared in the lobby as the boy nodded.

"I am, sir," he said timidly.

"You're Sam Tyler?" Ray questioned.

The boy nodded emphatically as Gene tried to decide whether the boy knew of their Sam and was attempting some perverse joke or if it was just some strange twist of fate and yet another Sam Tyler had fallen into his lap.

"I uh… I came back," the boy stated obviously. "I'm sorry for runnin' away earlier. I was just…"

The kid looked down at his hands as he rubbed them together. The lights in the lobby flickered momentarily as if attempting to match the boy's dark mood.

"I want to help. I want to help you get the blighters that killed my auntie!" the kid exclaimed, his young voice cracking.

Gene looked at Ray who actually seemed more relieved now that they were dealing with a child and not a ghost. Gene was too, to be honest. Being the very down to earth and in-your-bloody-face copper that he was, he wasn't sure how he'd react to something quite so supernatural.

"All right, kid. Come down to my office," Gene replied with a motion back down the hall.

Ray led the way, the kid followed, then Gene. When they past Carol, Gene gave her an approving nod.

"Thanks, luv," he replied. The woman gave a nod and a small smile. It was only then that it occurred to him that Carol had never actually met their Sam Tyler. He gave a small chuckle to himself. 'Lucky her,' he thought.

Moments later they stepped back into the offices. Everyone looked up curiously. Gene sniffed and lay a heavy hand on the nervous kid's shoulder.

"Right everyone, our lead has returned to us. So it's back to work for a bit. Ray, you try getting' in touch with Chris again, then come in an' help me with the boy."

"Right, Guv."

"It's Sam."

Gene looked down to the pouting child. "What?"

"Not 'boy' or 'kid' or any of that, Guv. It's Sam."

Gene smirked at the use of 'Guv' even as the others in the room, save Ray, began to murmur at the name. Gene looked down at the stern faced and sad eyed child.

"You know… I used to know a man named Sam," Gene said. "He was a pain in the ass too. Now come on, kid."

Gene slipped a hand round the back of young Sam's neck and not so gently led him into his office. He pulled out a chair and motioned to it.

"Take a seat."

The boy did, hardly hitting the cushion before he leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Again, the simple action sang familiarity at him, but he pushed it aside. Both 'Sam' and 'Tyler' were relatively common names.

'Yet it's more than that,' Gene thought with a frown. It was his face. He could be Sam's kid easily. Except that Sam didn't have kids. Or so he'd said.

"So," Gene said, sliding behind his desk. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"

Sam nodded. "Ok."

With a sigh, the boy straightened. Gene propped up his feet on an open desk drawer, fully aware that the kid's statement might not help them at all.

"I was born in 1969 to Vic and Ruth Tyler. Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to become a policeman-"

"Oh for Christ's sake, I don't mean THAT beginning!" Gene exclaimed, sitting up in his chair and bringing his fist down on the desk top. The boy was strangely unfazed and continued in monotone.

"I passed the exams in 1988 and joined the Greater Manchester Police-"

"A woman has been murdered, you little git! I will not have you impede this investigation any further-"

"In 2006 I was hit by a car and when I woke up it was 1973. That's when I met you, Gene Hunt."

"That's it." Gene stood furiously. Here he'd actually been feeling bad for this kid who'd just lost his aunt! Either this kid hadn't taken his medication today or he was an unfeeling, heartless little prick. Whatever it was, Gene didn't have the patience for it. He rounded the desk as the boy continued, still not reacting to the oncoming threat.

"Just a few months ago, I drove my car into the river during a chase. You never found my body."

Infuriated that this kid was making a mockery of the death of one of his own, Gene reached down and grabbed the kid by the collar.

"How dare you-"

Gene stopped short when the kid finally looked up, revealing that it was no longer the kid at all. It was Sam Tyler- DI Sam Tyler- whose shirt he gripped. Now Gene was not a man to scare easily, but this inexplicable event made him start and step away with wide haunted eyes.

"What…"Gene fell off into a stupefied silence as Sam Tyler stood, his eyes filled with an angry fire the likes of which Gene had never seen.

"You never found my body, Guv," Sam said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Tyler?"

"Did you even look?!" Sam shouted.

"Of course we looked!" Gene found himself shouting back. This was insanity. Sam could not be here. Not like this. Someone had drugged Gene. That was the only explanation. He was just hallucinating.

Suddenly Sam darted forward and gave Gene a vicious shove. The bigger man practically flew back into the metal cabinets. Though the move and the almost supernatural strength surprised Gene greatly, instinct overruled it and as Sam stalked towards him, Gene threw a defensive punch.

And Sam caught it.

Gene stared in shock at the furious man before him and thought again that it wasn't possible for this to be the Sam Tyler he knew. The strength, the mask of hatred and disgust… They just weren't Sam. As if to drive the point home, only a second later the distorted Sam Tyler was twisting Gene's wrist nearly to the point of breaking and forcing Gene to the floor with a shout.

"You didn't look hard enough, Guv," said Sam's voice, dripping with restrained fury. "You gave up on me. My death is your fault."

"It's not my fault! You didn't obey orders! You went off on your own!" Gene shouted, only partly aware that by saying this he was contradicting his earlier denial of the person before him.

"I didn't have a choice. You didn't see what I saw. I had to act. No. You put me on the line and I paid the price! With my life!" Sam roared and with the last word, he twisted Gene's wrist even further and with a pained exclamation from Gene, it snapped.

Sam let go and Gene fell forward, cradling his broken wrist.

"You're not Sam Tyler," Gene said after several moments of stillness. "You're not!"

Gene's head shot up so that he might face his enemy, but Sam Tyler was gone without a trace. Gene was alone. He wasn't on the floor anymore either. He was sitting at his desk. Gene straightened immediately, clutching a wrist that was no longer broken.

"What… the bloody hell…" Gene's heart was racing and he blinked several times as if trying to make something come into focus that wasn't there. "I'm loosin' my blasted mind…"

--.--.--.--.-


-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

AN: Let me know what you think! Reviews inspire me to update more quickly. ^_^