theatrical_muse #322
Feb. 24th, 2010 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
havinhoops"The problem, of course, was that people did not seem to understand the difference between right and wrong. They needed to be reminded about this, because if you left it to them to work it out themselves, they would never bother. They would just find what was best for them, and then they would call that the right thing. That's how most people thought."
--Alexander McCall Smith, The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency
Policing, for Gene, had always been simple. Criminals broke the law, coppers caught them, end of. Maybe some people questioned his methods of getting information, yeah, but they didn't sit face to face with the bastards every day. If a bloke lured girls into his car and strangled them, what was a few broken teeth in the karmic balance of things? He'd grown up on these streets, known a few of the blighters (mostly petty thieves), beat the shit out of 'em back then, too. It was the only way to get them to listen, the only way to command their respect. The criminal mind, Gene reckoned, was different to a normal person's mind, and they didn't understand rational thought. What they did understand was someone slamming their head into a urinal repeatedly.
All right, so maybe the fights gave him a bit of a rush, maybe he liked roughing the suspects up a little bit when they got mouthy, but he never hurt people for the sake of hurting them. He never saw himself as cruel - cold-hearted, maybe, given his lack of sympathy for the men he hunted down, but, fuck, it was never the way some of the newspapers made him look.
And then the lines started blurring, the job started changing. The public were suddenly concerned about the rights of their darling little kiddie-slayers, and Gene was forced to oblige, even when it killed him to see a drug dealer or a murderer or a rapist walk because he hadn't been able to produce enough evidence. (He knew that every one of them would be back, and maybe then he would have enough evidence, but he hadn't been able to stop them then, hadn't been able to save just one more life.)
He made enough cracks about providing the prisoners in the cells with featherbeds and caviar that he'd been sternly reprimanded by Upstairs, like they hadn't been in his position once, looking the bastards dead in the eye every single day, confronted with every single depraved act the human psyche could contrive. Most of them didn't regret anything they did, so Gene felt that it was his duty to make them - but not anymore.
And then the coppers themselves started committing crimes - yeah, everybody feathered his nest a bit now and then, but there was an unspoken line, never too much, nothing that would hurt people. What was the point of protecting them if you went and fucked them over afterwards? First Harry, though, trying to live his last days in peace by pulling off post office robberies, stealing others' pensions so he could buy a sodding beachfront house somewhere warm. You didn't become a copper, Gene believed, because you wanted to live in the lap of luxury; anybody who thought that needed their bloody head examined. But Harry and Mack had made off with tens of thousands of pounds, and it seemed like there were traitors everywhere Gene turned. If two men he'd respected so much could let him down like that, then anybody might betray him next.
It was Chris. Good, quiet, dependable Chris, who'd been like a son to Gene since he joined the force. No matter the reason, it still hurt him more than he let on. He'd been sold for ten sodding pieces of silver by one of the few people in London he trusted. It was almost enough to make him give up and go back to Manchester right then and there, except that Gene Hunt didn't give up, and he'd be damned if he'd let the other side win this one.
The line blurred again, Gene's world shifted around him - and when it stopped, he was covered in Alex's blood. He didn't even know where he stood anymore.
Muse: Gene Hunt
Fandom: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
Words: 633
Warning: Spoilers through 2x08 of A2A.
--Alexander McCall Smith, The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency
Policing, for Gene, had always been simple. Criminals broke the law, coppers caught them, end of. Maybe some people questioned his methods of getting information, yeah, but they didn't sit face to face with the bastards every day. If a bloke lured girls into his car and strangled them, what was a few broken teeth in the karmic balance of things? He'd grown up on these streets, known a few of the blighters (mostly petty thieves), beat the shit out of 'em back then, too. It was the only way to get them to listen, the only way to command their respect. The criminal mind, Gene reckoned, was different to a normal person's mind, and they didn't understand rational thought. What they did understand was someone slamming their head into a urinal repeatedly.
All right, so maybe the fights gave him a bit of a rush, maybe he liked roughing the suspects up a little bit when they got mouthy, but he never hurt people for the sake of hurting them. He never saw himself as cruel - cold-hearted, maybe, given his lack of sympathy for the men he hunted down, but, fuck, it was never the way some of the newspapers made him look.
And then the lines started blurring, the job started changing. The public were suddenly concerned about the rights of their darling little kiddie-slayers, and Gene was forced to oblige, even when it killed him to see a drug dealer or a murderer or a rapist walk because he hadn't been able to produce enough evidence. (He knew that every one of them would be back, and maybe then he would have enough evidence, but he hadn't been able to stop them then, hadn't been able to save just one more life.)
He made enough cracks about providing the prisoners in the cells with featherbeds and caviar that he'd been sternly reprimanded by Upstairs, like they hadn't been in his position once, looking the bastards dead in the eye every single day, confronted with every single depraved act the human psyche could contrive. Most of them didn't regret anything they did, so Gene felt that it was his duty to make them - but not anymore.
And then the coppers themselves started committing crimes - yeah, everybody feathered his nest a bit now and then, but there was an unspoken line, never too much, nothing that would hurt people. What was the point of protecting them if you went and fucked them over afterwards? First Harry, though, trying to live his last days in peace by pulling off post office robberies, stealing others' pensions so he could buy a sodding beachfront house somewhere warm. You didn't become a copper, Gene believed, because you wanted to live in the lap of luxury; anybody who thought that needed their bloody head examined. But Harry and Mack had made off with tens of thousands of pounds, and it seemed like there were traitors everywhere Gene turned. If two men he'd respected so much could let him down like that, then anybody might betray him next.
It was Chris. Good, quiet, dependable Chris, who'd been like a son to Gene since he joined the force. No matter the reason, it still hurt him more than he let on. He'd been sold for ten sodding pieces of silver by one of the few people in London he trusted. It was almost enough to make him give up and go back to Manchester right then and there, except that Gene Hunt didn't give up, and he'd be damned if he'd let the other side win this one.
The line blurred again, Gene's world shifted around him - and when it stopped, he was covered in Alex's blood. He didn't even know where he stood anymore.
Muse: Gene Hunt
Fandom: Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes
Words: 633
Warning: Spoilers through 2x08 of A2A.
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no subject
Date: 2010-04-04 03:54 pm (UTC)I love this, though. These little glimpses into Gene's psyche are wonderful, as is his struggle to do the right thing through that whole mess.
2x07 still makes me cry. :(
no subject
Date: 2010-04-05 02:23 am (UTC)I think the whole...moral grey area is just a really fascinating aspect of him, because it's probably where he has the most character growth. Or...um...something. (Sometimes I say things that sound analytical and intelligent, but I really have no idea what I'm talking about - it's how I made my way through lit classes.)
:( Me too. And I can't find any icons of Gene and Chris - I really ought to ask Pixie, lol.
no subject
Date: 2010-04-05 02:45 am (UTC)Pixie has found me ALL of my Alex and Chris icons, so she's a good source. And she just put up a post with lots of icons from 3x01, but there's not Chris and Gene. Sadness. :(