So this isn't set at any specific time period but it is sometime after Leah mysteriously disappeared from the team. Don't forget to review! (P.S.: I don't own Flashpoint or anything associated with it's amazingness!)

"We're going to have to let you go." These words hit Mitchell Anderson like a 70 car train. 37 years of working at the same company, the same desk, the same people and with 8 simple words it was all over. The images of his 4 children flashed through his head as his boss tried to give him reasons and answers. His youngest was graduating high school in a few short months and his oldest two were already in private schools in the States.

Mitchell robotically shook his boss' hand and scribbled his name on a few papers before going to collect his things. When he got to his cubicle, he quietly surveyed the things that had accumulated on his desk. The picture of his family that they had got when his youngest was born. The drawings that his children made on his white board during take your child to work days. The computer piece that he had been working on not an hour before. Everything had its own story. Everything had to go.

Hand shaking, Mitchell violently threw objects into the box that he had been given. Some things broke, papers were torn and crumpled. His coworkers peered over their cubicle walls to see what all the commotion.

"37 years!" Mitchell yelled, continuing to shove things into the box, "37 damn years and its like it didn't even mean anything!"

Everyone in the general vicinity had all dropped what they were doing to watch the scene. Marsha, the receptionist, had finally walked over to Mitchell's cubical, "You alright Mitch?"

"He lied!" he said through clenched teeth, more to himself than to her.

"Who lied?" Marsha stepped forward, "Mitch did they let you go?"

"What do you think!" he snapped. Marsha took a few steps back. She was a very nice person and had never been shouted at by anyone in the office, until now. Mitchell could see that he had upset the redheaded receptionist but he had bigger problems on his mind. He finally gave up on packing and swept his box off of his desk. He brushed off friends who tried to talk to him on is way out of the building.

As he got into his car he threw the box onto the passenger seat. He sat behind the steering wheel staring out of the window. Not at anything particular, just staring, thinking, wondering. He was surprised to feel hot tears forming in his eyes, not of sadness, of anger. After a while he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed. The line went strait to voicemail. Now even angrier, Mitchell threw the phone into the box with the rest of his belongings.

It was then that he noticed the glove box had somehow been opened, and inside sat his handgun. Slowly, Mitchell reached over and picked it up. The cold metal warmed in his clenched fist as he contemplated his next move. If he couldn't get answers over the phone, he would just have to get them in person.

Marsha had just gotten out of the front doors when she saw Mitchell's car peeling out of the parking lot. Disappointed at herself for missing him she looked down at the picture frame that Mitch had left behind., the faces of his children smiled back at her through the glass.

Earlier that morning, Wordy kissed all of his girls goodbye as they slept and silently crept out of the house. He quietly got into his car and carefully shut his door. He was about to start the car when he noticed Ally's car seat in the back from the grocery trip they had taken together the night before. He laughed to himself as he remembered her repeated demands for a cookie.

After taking out the car seat and placing it on the garage floor he got back in his car and started for work. The drive to the station was always the worst part of the day for Wordy. Not only was he leaving his girls for 12 hours straight, he never knew if he would be making the drive home at the end of the day. Sure, everyone had their worries about accidents and such, anyone could die at any second, but Wordy and every other police officer, fire fighter and soldier had even less of a chance of making it through the day alive.

Pulling into a spot towards the front of the station Wordy spotted Sam locking up his bike on the rack, and honestly, he looked like shit. The young cop looked like he had stayed up all night with a crying baby (Wordy would know). He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair hadn't been tended to. Sam did however manage to shave, most likely a habit from the military where facial hair is rarely tolerated.

Sam finished locking his bike up to the rack and couldn't help but yawn when he was greeted by Wordy.

"Rough night Sammy?" the older cop asked.

"You could say that" Sam said, avoiding details. The pair went inside the SRU Headquarters and joined Spike, Ed and Parker in the locker room. The others noticed Sam's more disheveled appearance and, of course, all had something to say.

Once they had finished changing into their workout clothes they started headed over to the gym where Jules was already running on the treadmill with her headphones blasting country music into her ears. However, Ed called Sam back into the locker room just as he was about to head out of the door.

"You alright Sam?" he asked after Sam had slowly turned around to face his team leader.

Sam was silent. He was facing Ed but his eyes were somewhere else. Ed could see that he was obviously not alright, but the young sniper was never going to admit it. "Sam if something's going on in your personal life that's going to affect the job you need to tell me".

Sam remembered the last time he had kept something from Ed and how angry it had made his team leader. Secrets were not a good idea in a team, or in a family. "It's my mom," he finally said in a low voice, "She's sick."

Ed let out a small sigh and bowed his head. "I'm sorry buddy," he said, placing a comforting hand on his teammate shoulder, "How serious is it?"

"Cancer" he said, finally looking into his team leader's eyes, "Their not sure how bad it is yet, but the odds aren't great"

"I hate to say this buddy but I have to recommend that you take the day off" Ed allowed for an appropriate pause before saying this, giving the new information a chance to settle in. Sam relaxed his shoulders and sighed, turning away from Ed.

"Ed, I can't go home," he said in a more firm voice, "I just spent the last 6 hours there thinking about what's going to happen to my family. I can't go back…not yet."

"Sam-"

"Look, I just need to get myself going, get my mind off of it," Sam interrupted, "If something comes up today I'll stay in the truck."

Ed sighed, he looked into his youngest team member's eyes and he could see this wasn't stubbornness, it was desperation. "Alright," he said nodding his head, "But you need to stay focused, and after today you're taking the next week off to go see your family."

"Yes Sir." Sam was only able to give Ed a quick nod before the alarm started echoing all around the locker room.

"Team One, Hot Call" Kira's voice came over the intercom.

"Nothing but a bright at early emergency to keep your mind off of your troubles" Ed gave Sam a friendly slap on the back before heading to his locker to suit up.

Sam smiled, but he could feel the weight of the world crushing down on him and himself ready to break.

So I have some idea as to where I'm going with this but any and all suggestions and feedback is appreciated. Thank You So Much For Reading!