manonmars: (Oh shi--)
[personal profile] manonmars
The last thing Sam Tyler clearly remembered was that there was a bright light. So bright his eyes burned to look at it. He'd been running, running faster than he believed himself capable, desperate to put an end to all he'd caused here. It seemed the universe had other plans for him. It was all a giant assault to the sense as the noises from both worlds collided. Gun shots, screams for help, beeping machines and concerned doctors mingled into some horrible cacophony. Then silence. Which was, ironically, more deafening to Sam than anything else.

From then onwards, it was all a bit of a blank. Truth be told, he was kind of glad.

When his senses finally returned, he noted that the air was slightly chilly and judging by the noise of casual everyday living, he was outside. This was wrong, he should be in a hospital bed. The grand over the top light display should of signified his return home. But as gazed upwards at the blue sky in front of him, he knew things mustn't of gone the way he'd been hoping. Or what he thought he'd hoped for anyway. Lately, he wasn't very sure. All he knew was that something definitely scrambled his mind back there and while his friends were caught up fighting for their lives, he was taking a bloody nap in outside. If he hadn't gone home, he still had a chance to fix this!

Staggering upwards, his head throbbing, he looked around ready for action and-- wait.

This wasn't 1973. And he definitely wasn't by the train tracks any more. Everything around him was built up and chaotic, people everywhere and cars zipping around. But it didn't look like Manchester at all, not even in 2006. And it couldn't of changed that much from when he'd last seen it, not unless they got one hell of a massive grant off the council while he was gone. Sam looked down, noting his clothes were the same as they'd been before he'd woken up here, still in the uniform he'd needed to stay undercover. Nothing about his person had been miraculous changed like it had when he'd woke up in the 70's. But the buildings, the cars, the people... they were modern. Actually very modern . They had mobile phones and up-to-date fashion.

Sam suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his chest, not sure what was upsetting him the most. The change of scenery, the fact that his friends were trapped back home in danger-- or that he was apparently never going home. Just doom to skip through space and time. Christ, he deserved to at least get some input where he ended up. Or the right to at least finish what he was doing in one world before he went to the next. He could still hear Annie call for him.

Uneasily, he ventured further out into the streets, eyes scanning everything around him carefully. He didn't recognise any of this, it wasn't home to him. The park he'd been essentially marooned on was endless and as he waded through the people around him, he caught note of their accents. American? Seriously? Where the hell was he now? Sam tried not to have a nervous breakdown right in front of everyone, it hadn't worked in his favour in Manchester and lesson learned. He kept moving, not really sure where he was going or what to do next. He double checked his badge, fumbling to make sure it still existed and was safe in his inside pocket. It did. Just outdated and likely useless.

Sam felt himself go faint, his heart racing and his breath restricted. Not again. He couldn't do this twice! Anything but this. He just wanted to go home.

Taking a chance, he launched at the first person nearest to him. He didn't exactly look the picture of a sane and stable sort of man. "Where is this? Do you know? What date is it?"

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