All language subtitles for Life.On.Mars.S01E01.720p.BluRay.DD51.x264-TG7

Colin Raimes, open the door, please.
Police!

Mr Raimes, we have a warrant
to search the house

and to remove property in compliance
with the Criminal Evidence Act.

Smash his face in!

This is gonna look very bad on
your arrest report, Colin.

Interview commenced at 11.19am.

The suspect will state his name.

Colin Raimes.

Also present are the suspect's lawyer,
psychiatrist and social worker.

Look at these photos, Colin.

Lauren Chester.

Murdered in November last year.

Kidnapped. No sexual assault.
Starved and held for 30 hours.

- Strangled with bootlace.
- Urgh...

- You're upsetting him.
- Bettina Mitchell. Attacked last Saturday.

You said, "Fight me and you
will end up like Lauren."

This is the ID picture
that Bettina gave us.

This is your diary.

We found it in your room.

From the diary, I quote, "I killed her.
She's been killed. I'm a killer.

"An ace killer."

That particular
entry is not awash with ambiguity.

Dated November 4th,
the day after the murder.

Colin's a first-rate fantasist.

So, let's talk about the night of
the abduction, Colin. November 2nd.

Hold on, November the 2nd?

That's correct.

He was at our drop-in centre.

Some kids had thrown fireworks
at him. He was distressed.

We brought him to the centre.

I think we're done.

Colin Raimes.

Colin Raimes isn't our man.
We'll go back to our best lead.

The fibres found under the
fingernails of the victim.

Definitely synthetic.

I think there's more to be had
from Raimes. Let's lean on him.

What, and be sued for
harassment of a schizophrenic?

He's a fantasist.
It's in his psych evaluation.

Screw his psych evaluation!

You used to believe in gut feeling!
What happened?

Nothing.

Sam, what is going on in there?

Look, I can't think about this now.
OK?

I'm gonna stand you down
from the case, Maya.

It's not productive,
given our personal problems.

Oh, look, forget about us.

I have a theory about Raimes.
About why he kept a diary.

- I've made my mind up.
- Don't you want to know what I'm thinking?

Look around you.
What use are feelings in this room?

(Phone)

Maya.

Why are you shutting me out?

What're you doing?

I'm following my feelings, Sam.

I think there's more to Raimes.

I think he's trying to impress
someone. What if he knows the killer?

Hang on, if Social Services find out
that you're... Where are you? Maya?

- I'm tailing Raimes. I'm at the junction...
- You're breaking up.

Someone's there. Raimes is heading
towards Satchmore Road. I'm gonna go...

No! Maya, no!
Listen, I'll send backup.

- (Maya screams)
- Maya!

Preserve the scene. Call in SOCO, please.

Whoever the killer is, he's taken her.

(Voice drowned out by music)

(Car horn blares)

It's a God-awful small affair

To the girl with the mousy hair

But her mummy is yelling "No!"

And her daddy has told her to go

But her friend is nowhere to be seen

Now she walks through
her sunken dream

To the seat with the clearest view

And she's hooked to the silver screen

But the film is a saddening bore

For she's
lived it ten times or more...

(Echoey heartbeat)

(Heartbeat slows)

(Distant siren)

(Man) Charge to 200 joules.

- Stand clear!
- (Bleeping)

(Whispers) Where are you?

Where are you?

But the film is a saddening bore

For she's lived it ten times or more

She could spit in the eyes of fools

As they ask her to focus on
Sailors fighting in the dance hall

Oh man! Look at those cavemen go

It's the freakiest show

Take a look at the Lawman

Beating up the wrong guy

Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know

He's in the best-selling show

Is there life on Mars?

It's on America's tortured brow

That Mickey Mouse
has grown up a cow

Now the workers
have struck for fame...

What happened?

Did you not see the signs?

Do you remember what happened, sir?

Sir, can you tell me what happened?

This, er...

This is... I...
This... This is not my car. I was...

- I was driving a Jeep.
- You were driving a military vehicle?

Hang on.

What's going on?

Says here you're on transfer
from C Division in Hyde.

- Detective Inspector.
- What?

I'm a DCI.

What the hell are you?

I need my mobile.

Your mobile what?

Phone (!)

860 to Alpha...

Hang on, sir! Come back!

860... Sir, come back!

'Cause I wrote it ten times ormore

It's about to be writ again

As I ask you to focus on

Sailors fighting in the dance hall

Oh man! Look at those cavemen go

It's the freakiest show

Take a look at the Lawman
Beating up the wrong guy

Oh man! Wonder if he'll ever know

He's in the best-selling show

Is there life on Mars?

(Man) All right, Tony.

(Slowed down) I'll call you back.

(Clattering)

Er...DC Chris Skelton.

The plod's bringing in your stuff.
One of the girls'll sort out your RTA.

Hey, don't sweat if you've
had a couple of stiff ones.

Blimey, you look like you
gone ten rounds with Big Henry.

Someone should take a look at you, boss.
You're as white as a ginger bird's arse.

There's that nice
little plonk on the next floor.

- Cartwright?
- (Skelton) She could kiss it better.

Shut up!

I don't know who the hell
you lot think you are,

but this is my office.

Here.

This is...
This is a door, right here.

And my desk is here.

Where's my desk?

Where's my desk?!

Chair?

- PC terminal?
- Who?

You want a constable up here?

Right.
What the bloody hell is going on?

This is my department!

- What have you done with it?!
- Shhh! Keep it down, boss.

- (Coughing)
- Too late.

OK. All right.

Surprise me.

What year is it supposed to be?

Word in your shell-like, pal.

- Big mistake!
- Yeah?

What about this?

They reckon you got concussion.

I couldn't give a tart's furry cup
if your brains are falling out.

Don't ever waltz into my kingdom
acting king of the jungle.

- Who the hell are you?
- Gene Hunt. Your DCI. And it's 1973.

Almost dinner time. I'm having hoops.

(Man) It's funny,
I coulda sworn I left it here.

Remember, lockyour car.

Check the doors,
the window, the boot.

And please, take the keys with you.

Watch out! There's a thief about!

- Operator.
- What?

- Operator.
- No, I want a mobile number.

- What?
- A mobile number.

0770 813...

Is that an international number?

No...

I need you to connect me to
a Virgin number. A Virgin mobile.

Don't you start that sexy
business with me, young man.

I can trace this call!

(Continuous tone)

(Bleeping)

(Indistinct voice)

(Man) Let's get a second line in.
It's an emergency. Cross-match blood.

He's slipping into unconsciousness.
Sam? Can you hear me?

Sam?

Just had a shout. That bird who
went missing a couple of days ago?

She's only been done in down
Satchmore Road.

Satchmore? That's where Maya...

- Suzi Tripper?
- (Skelton) Yeah.

Wrung her neck like a Christmas turkey.

Right, I gotta get down the pub
and give the papers a statement.

And if I don't get a move on
they'll all be half-cut.

So, you're senior officer.

You're in charge.

Boss?

Shall we start?

Suzi had been dead for a couple
of hours when she was found.

No sign of sexual assault.

Uh, this is what she had on her.

Bloody hell!

So, then? Boss?

Anything you wanna...?

Right, yeah, erm...

Right.

Have you, er...

- visited the crime scene?
- What, where she was found?

Yeah, where she was found.

Have you preserved the crime scene?

Body's on the slab.

(Sighs) Body should have been dusted
for prints on site.

How the hell
you gonna get dabs off skin?

You're so right. How can you?
What's the matter with me?

(Laughs) We did take some prints off
her shoe, I think it was.

They've been sent to Scotland Yard,
so we should hear in a fortnight

- if there's a match.
- A fortnight?!

Motive doesn't seem to be robbery.

There's 27p in her purse plus
a couple of Green Shields.

Well, he might have taken the notes.
I mean who's gonna take 27p?

Well, I would.

After pub closing time, she stayed
in the car park with a couple of fellas,

but that's cool.

- Cool, is it? Why?
- Well, we know 'em.

Loaders from the canal wharf.

Now, she was in the car park

and she was giving 'em
a downhill racer...

So you're not gonna take statements?

It's not them, boss.

(Whispers) Wake up.

He didn't shag her. He didn't rob her.
So what's the motive?

(Sniffs) Uh...

Garrotted with, uh...thin cord.

No other attack marks.

Nothing in or around the mouth.

What have you learnt
from the stomach contents?

Well, er...

...Chris, have a look.

In the file. In the...

post-mortem file.

She wasn't fed for at least a day
before she was killed.

And she was found in Satchmore Road.

Come on! Enough!

Come on! Stop it now! Enough!

Stop. End. Finish. Come on!

Ah!

OK...

Wall's wet. Uh...

(Sniffs) I can smell the preserving agent.

Soap in the tray. Uh...

Ham sandwich, half-eaten.

(Distant whistling)

I can hear somebody
whistling outside.

You need to get some rest, boss.

Y-you just need a large Scotch
and a bit of a kip.

It's him.

He's killed before.

We'll, er...get a plonk to
give you the once-over.

- (Cracking)
- Arghh!

No broken bones, then.

Do you feel like
you're gonna heave up?

I feel a bit nauseous.

You'll do.
You've had hangovers worse.

Are you a doctor?

I'm about as
qualified as Dr Kildare.

- I'm part of the Women's Department.
- What?

Don't you have plonks in Hyde?
Go on, sir, off you jolly well trot.

What now?

- What's your name?
- WPC Cartwright.

No, first name?

Annie.

I was four in 1973, Annie.

- Hit me.
- Don't tempt me.

Go on.

You've been in an accident.

Hit me.

Argh! Shit!

(Annie) I'm sorry, sir.

Hey, hey. Good girl.
Prostate probe and no jelly!

Why don't you call it a day, Tyler?
Chris'll drive you to your place.

- My place?
- Yeah, they gave us an address.

Unless of course you're getting, um...
a bit of a taste for it in here.

This guy kills, then what,
he waits another 30 years?

Is that why I'm here?
Because that's when he first struck?

Does that make sense?

Yeah, loads of sense.

I mean, Maya thought that Raimes
knew the killer. Colin Raimes!

No, no he'd still be in nappies.

I can take him home.

Take him. He's yours.

This is Neil.

Sam.

Can you hear me?

Sam?

What?

Do you want me to take you home?

Help me?

This is it.

- Oh, my God.
- It's not so bad, is it?

Mr Enoch Powell has called for
a taxation increase to deal with inflation.

Mr Powell called for an autumn budget...

I'm not mad. I'm not!

I had an accident

and I woke up 33 years in the past.

Now that either makes me, uh...

a time-traveller, or a lunatic,

or I'm lying in a hospital bed
in 2006 and none of this is real.

33 years in the future.

That's where you're saying you're from?

You see Maya...
That's my girlfriend.

...she's been kidnapped by the same killer
who strangled Suzi Tripper yesterday.

I think you should go to a hospital

and ask them to
check you for concussion.

He'll hold her for a day and then, erm...

Don't you see?
It's the same killer in both times.

Paranoid delusion brought
about by the accident.

It's not concussion,
it's psychological.

Pretty fancy words for a WPC.

I studied psychology at university.

I'm just saying,
I think it's a medical thing.

You should sign off sick
and see somebody.

What if you're my mind telling me

this is real?

You'll have to work this
one out on your own.

Thanks.

You know, for...

...listening to what I had to say,
and not calling the men in white coats.

DI Tyler...

You don't seem like
the rest of them...

...and you're clever enough to know
what you're saying can't be true.

Yes, it's beating.

- I have to go.
- Where?

What do you care?

I'm not real. Soon as I walk
out that door, puff, I'm gone.

Here I go. Ready?

Steady?

Get some rest.

In module three we noted that
the collective Pythagorean angles

embedded in our X to N ratio

could be derived
from the simple numinary A

as the constant ten and depicted thus.

(Man on TV continues) But what concerns
us most is regulating his breathing.

That is why we have to keep
the endotracheal tube in place.

I have to stress to you
that Sam is in low responsiveness

but is not
in a persistent vegetative state,

although he has
suffered a severe cranial trauma.

But the Glasgow Scale does put
him at a deep level of coma.

Hey! You're talking about me!

I'm here! I can hear you!
Look at me! I'm here!

At times, however, he moves, murmurs...

Has motor response as though caught
in some sort of deep REM sleep

from which he cannot wake.

This gives us some hope.
Despite the brain-stem bruising.

Hey! Hey, I'm here!

Look at me! Does this look like
low responsiveness to you? I'm here!

Sam?

- Sam?
- I can hear you! I can hear you!

- Sam Tyler?
- Yeah, yeah!

Wait! No!

Wait, don't leave me. I'm in BUPA!

Please don't leave me.

No.

No, please, I'm here!

Don't leave me here!

Please!

Please.

Please don't leave me.

(Milk bottles rattle)

(Milk float engine hums)

- How long's she been in?
- Not long enough, the gobby cow!

Bloody hell, I've seen road accidents
more cheerful.

Where are you today?
Here or planet of the Clangers?

Didn't know if you were gonna show, boss.

Where else could I go?

Well, we're honoured. Right,
we've pulled a bird in, Dora Keens.

She was the last person
to see the victim alive.

- She a suspect?
- No, just a pain in the arse.

OK, all right.

Brief me in full.
What do I need to know?

She's a pain in the arse!

What, so you've
handed her into lost property?

Well, we could use the canteen but
she's a right mouthy bird, this one.

Hang on. You're gonna do the
interview in there?

Thick walls.

OK.

You had a drink with Suzi the
night she died, didn't you, Dora?

I know you. From the picket line.

- You put the boot into my old man.
- Oh, happy days.

Sod off.

Can't, love.

This is my esteemed colleague, DI Tyler.

Er...

Hi, Dora. I want you to call me Sam.

- You really a copper?
- Possibly.

- When was the last time you saw Suzi?
- In me dreams.

How did she seem that night? Did she...

- Did she mention meeting anyone?
- She was horny.

Did she get into
an argument with a...stranger?

I know the answer.

It's blowing in the wind.

(She laughs)

I'm done with this game.
Let's play another.

Let's play hopscotch
or pin the tail on the donkey.

- You pick, Dora.
- I wanna lawyer.

I wanna hump Britt Ekland.
What are we gonna do?

Your dad's waiting to take you home.

What the hell did you do to her?

Oh, you know, usual.

Then banged her up for obstruction.
Kids, eh?

Where I come from,
you'd be looking at suspension.

Really? What, for making a breakthrough?

At 11.20 she saw Suzi Tripper
heading away from the pub,

followed by a tall bloke with long hair.

The hair under those nails
is not human. It's synthetic.

Yeah, Chris told me what
happened in the mortuary.

Mm. I need a drink.

That's the first sensible thing
you said since you got here.

Ain't uniform got their own boozer?

You have to rubber-heel mine?

(In West Indian accent)Ah, DCI Hunt.

Mon brave.

You catchin' flies, brother?

Which part of my subconscious
do you hail from?

I like you.

- I like you.
- Nelson's a good bloke.

- What's your poison?
- Tan and bitter.

Sam?

Diet Coke.

I'm just joking. A pint of bitter.

Give it up, then.

All right.

The man you're looking for is either
wearing thick gloves of some sort,

or he's using a bag, or something
made out of coarse material.

Gets under their nails.

You can't know that from one stiff.

I've seen enough...
Look, I'm telling you.

Oh...

What does it matter, anyway?

None of this is real.

You're just some...

thug, crawled out of some
dark little pit in the back of my mind.

Then report me.

See you, Gene.

Give my regards to the id.

All right!
Right now, let it be now! Come on!

You're new and you got something big
crammed up your jacksie,

but don't worry. You'll learn.

I may be the sheriff
but I'm a deputy to the law.

I don't care if you
wanna take a swing for me.

But what I do ask, is that you
don't hide anything from me.

So, have you got a
hunch about this case?

With what I know, I could find this killer.

Prove it.

If it should be questioned

I can feel the heat

Mind her reflection

Stops you in the street

Feel too good

What can you do...?

Look out for these leads cropping
up in any box in the room. Priority.

Priority. We'll cope.

So, where did you get
these names from?

Call it inspiration.

...Can't seem to control myself

So how can I talk to you?

Feel too good...

To predict what this killer might do next

we have to understand
what he's thinking and feeling.

Annie?

- You're familiar with this case, aren't you?
- Uh... Yes, sir.

Could you help us out here? Please?

WPC Cartwright has a BA in psychology.

- (All) Ooooh (!)
- (Laughter)

Now, the victim wasn't gagged.

Why didn't he gag her, Annie?

Forget the mind-reading act,
let's get down to the striptease.

Because he needed to, er...

He needed to see her mouth.

Her lips.

We have to see the
things that we value.

Put yourselves in
the mind of this man.

You're lonely.

Every night you dream of this girl.

And she's got
big eyes and red, ruby lips.

So you go out,
and you find that girl

and you bring her home.

But you don't gag her
cause you wanna see those ruby lips.

But you just
can't bring yourself to kiss them.

He'd get embarrassed...

...angry.

He'd start to blame the girl.

It's her fault. She's taunting him
just by being there.

And then one day you just snap.

Strangle her...using bootlace.

And then the cycle starts all
over again, with a different girl.

And this time, you're positive you'll be
brave enough to kiss her.

Only you won't be.

I look at your lips all the time.

- D'you think I should turn myself in?
- (Men laugh)

You'd better trot along now,
sweetheart,

- before I have to hose this lot down.
- Yes, sir.

Thank you.

How would he keep her quiet
without gagging her?

I don't know.

All right, maybe this nutter
moved to the area recently.

Maybe he's on day-release
from the loony bin.

Maybe there's a new face in the
local boozers. Find out.

Let's not wait for another
skirt to wind up dead.

And let's just hope we haven't
been led up a blind alley.

Sorry, sir, I've checked. There's
no Maya Roy listed in that area.

- Then try the number again.
- I have no Maya Roy listed...

Well, just try again!

- There's no need to...
- Forget it.

Large whisky, please.

Drink ain't gonna fix things.

What am I saying? I run a pub!

Of course it will fix things! (Laughs)

I'm lost, Nelson.

Really lost.

(In Mancunian accent) You're not lost, pal.

You're where you are.

And you have to make the best of it.

It's all you can do.

Keep it to yourself, eh?

Folks just seem happier
with the other Nelson.

Good luck.

Look at this. These are my
notes from the real world.

Made them last night.
Films, music, wars.

Just check out the detail.

Don't tell me,
atom bombs over Moscow.

Discussing psychology
with your little friend?

I want Chris out of the collator's
den. It's a waste of flippin' time.

- No, it isn't.
- Sorry, did that sound like a question?

I can find this killer.

D'you know what?

I think you're trying to show me up.

You don't scare me, Hunt.

It's an interesting point you raise.
Allow me to retort.

Better?

Where are you going?

I can't deal with this place.

So you're just giving up?

Look, somewhere out there,
Maya needs me.

My mind can only invent
so much detail, you know.

So I'm gonna walk until I can't
think up any more faces, or streets.

I mean, this is just...

(The Who: Baba O'Riley)

Out here in the fields

I fight for my meals...

Just what?

It's just madness.

I've got a nephew

and he...fell off a pier,

and he couldn't remember
the names of things.

Couldn't tell you what an apple was
or a pencil. And do you know what?

He stopped believing in them.

But then he got better
and everything seemed real again.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road."

And...what'll you find?

Mist?

A big cliff? A white door?

I don't know.

...don't cry

Don't raise your eye...

I used to come here.

I bought my first...

Gary Numan, Cars.

Sally, take my hand

We'll travel south crossland

Put out the fire
Don't look past my shoulder...

I'm going to call DCI Hunt.

What's he gonna do?

Throw me down the stairs?

Say I walked into a door?

He doesn't want me around
and he doesn't need me.

And I certainly don't need him.

Sam?

(Music suddenly blares)

What are you doing?

He doesn't gag 'em.

He doesn't gag them 'cause he wants
to kiss 'em. If they shout out

he's gonna get caught, isn't he?
So what's he gonna do?

Strands of material...
underneath their nails

and on their skin.

But it's not wool. It's rough.

Synthetic.

I know where the fibres come from.

Sound proofing!

He's trying to muffle the room
to hide the cries.

Dora Keen's coat was found on rough
ground, what, an hour ago?

Yes, sir.

Sleeve was torn.

She was last seen shouting at some bloke
loitering in the street at about 9.40pm.

Stuff the collator's office.
We need to get on the streets.

'Cause by your reckoning
we only have a day to find her.

Anything happens to this motor
and I come stamp on all your toys. Got it?

Good kids.

Hello, love. CID.

We're looking for this woman.
Dora Keens. Approximately 5'2".

Curly, brown hair. Hazel eyes.

Fake topaz necklace.

We're looking for a short, skinny
bird, wears a big coat. Lots of gob.

Excellent work, ladies and gentlemen.

- Hunt. What?
- (Chris) I need to speak to DI Tyler.

He told me to let him... (Phone crackles)
... the name from his list.

Chris! Move about a bit.

Tell DI Tyler we've found one of
his names in the collator's office.

We found one!

It's one of the names you
asked me to find. Raimes.

I only found the carbon.

It's a statement
she made three months ago.

Woman in her 50s. Mrs Raimes.

Beryl Raimes.

I thought there was a connection.

Yeah, she's his grandmother.

Ooh, that's lovely.
What nice boys you are.

- D'you wanna custard cream, Mrs Raimes?
- Ooh, ta.

Mrs Raimes. You made a complaint to
the police about three months ago?

I saw a lady policeman. Nice girl.

No life for 'em, is it?

You came to complain
about a neighbour.

That's why we have a
statement from you on file.

The only trouble is,

we don't know who it was
or what it was about

because our copy got smudged.

You got Garibaldis?

- Chris! Garibaldis!
- It was only three months ago.

Think back. Please.

Think hard.

- I forget stuff.
- Mrs Raimes, it's very important.

It could be vital you remember why
you came to see us three months ago.

Was it a next door neighbour
who you were worried about?

Or somebody in your street?

Somebody visiting?
Someone upset you?

They did something bad or...

Or selfish, or dangerous?
Please. Come on. Think.

- Pink wafers.
- Hmm?

I love pink wafers.

You know, I love those packets
of wafers you get at Christmas.

Ooh, they are lovely.
Expensive, mind.

- They are.
- I sometimes get 'em in for me grandson.

I bet that takes a bite
out the housekeeping.

Chris, run down the canteen.
See if they got any wafers.

Now, Guv?

Hang on. Sorry, is this helping?

- D'you want another cuppa?
- Grand.

Hey, don't you go worrying yourself
about this neighbour business.

It's not important at all. Sugar, love?

- The lad next door. Number 20.
- Oh, yeah? What about him, my love?

Well, he's playing his
record player all night.

Bash. Crash. Bam.

And he's not even local!

So that's why you came to see us? To
complain about the noise from his stereo?

And it did the trick, pet.

He still lives there,

but you can't hear a thing now.

Backup to 20 Kennel Road! Now!

(Female on phone) Suspect is
an Edward Kramer.

We may need uniform backup.
You got that?

You will tread carefully.
We don't even have a warrant yet.

I see you running

Don't know what you're running from

Nobody's coming

What'd you do that was so wrong...?

Pipe lagging.

Kramer! Police!

Whoa, whoa! What you doing?
Shh!

(Faint sobbing)

Dora?

Dora?

Dora, it's all right.
It's all right. It's the police, police.

We're the police. It's OK, love,
we've got you.

It's OK, it's OK.

Oh! Kramer, come here!

OK.

Get inside, Colin.

That's Raimes' house.

Maya was right, he knew the killer.

We were one house away.

(Applause and whistling)

Kramer'll never go to trial.
He's certifiable.

Nah, jury'll send
that creature down forever.

This is a doctor's report.
We found it in the house.

It says he is seriously disturbed.

He's going to a high-security hospital.

What and be, erm...mollycoddled, indulged.

Be a good boy, be out in 20 years.
He'll still only be 40-odd.

You know as well as I do,
he'll kill again.

Hang on.

Oh, my God!

That's why he doesn't
kill for so long.

We put him away in hospital, he gets
out in 30 years and then he kills.

- And then he kidnaps Maya!
- What are you on about?

Forget the ruddy doctor's note.

If the jury know they're trying
a cold-blooded killer, it's life.

Look, listen. You told me

you were a deputy to the law.

The law is putting bad people away
and you wanna show a court that note?

Fine, you got principles.

- Hang on, hang on.
- What?

You wanna have another pop at me?
Wanna get me suspended?

If you like, you can try your hand.

And as for this note,
I'm making it your call.

Welcome to the team.

Thanks...

Guv.

I'll get the lights, love.

Are you OK, sir?

Sam. Can you hear me?

My name is Neil.
I'm a hypnotherapist.

I'm speaking directly
to your subconscious.

I'm sitting beside you in your bed

in the IC ward of St James's Hospital.

If I am reaching you...

...and you can hear me,

then I know that you can wake up.

I can hear you.

I'm in a coma, yeah?
You can help me.

Whatever you may
be experiencing isn't real, Sam.

You can escape.

You only need to take that
definitive step.

Do as I tell you
and you will be waking up

with your family and friends around you.

Your mobile...
hasn't...stopped...ringing.

- Maya is here.
- Maya?!

She's safe.

If you can hear me,
I know that will give you strength.

I'm coming back.

You tell her.

I'm coming back!

Sam!

Come away from the edge.

It's OK,

I know the answer.

I'm in a coma. I'm going to take the
definitive step I need to wake up.

Neil's my ex.

He did psychology with me.
I told him all about you.

He read all those notes you made.

There was nothing in the
notes about a mobile phone.

What?

This is just my mind
trying to keep me here.

He's just...playing games with you.

Just...

look down. Carefully!

Please don't jump!

Sorry! I'm sorry!

Bad joke. Please, no, don't do it.

Sam! No! Don't do it!

What you doing?! We all feel
like jumping sometimes, Sam.

Only we don't, me and you,
because we're not cowards.

This is just my mind.

Maybe you're here for a reason.

To make a difference.

Give me your hand.

What's that in your hands?
Is that grit?

Sand.

I was running up here
and I...fell against the fire bucket.

See, why would I imagine that?

Why would I bother to put
that kind of detail in it?

You wouldn't.

What should I do, Annie?

Stay.