Prologue
Author note: This story is the twentieth in the Magical Flashpoint series. It follows "Magical Heritage" and the events of 02x18: Behind the Blue Line.
Although all original characters belong to me, I do not own Flashpoint, Harry Potter, Narnia, or Merlin.
The blond man in a JTF2 uniform held his weapon level, aimed directly at a raven-haired man in black armor, the armor a mix of modern and medieval. As the blond sniper aimed, he backed away, slowly, step by step – right towards the edge of the crumbling ruin around them. The sniper trembled, his gun jolting and wavering, held in his weaker left hand. Sweat poured down his face and his blue eyes were dim, murky, almost blank.
"It was my fault," he rasped, still backing up, away from the other man.
Black hair flew with the force of its owner's head shake. "No, Sam, it wasn't," he pleaded, his mobile face twisted in fear; not for himself, but for his friend who steadily backed towards a drop into the churning ocean below. "Come on, Sam, come on. This isn't you," he cried, fear throwing his voice up an octave. "Put the gun down and we can go home, you and me, buddy."
Sam Braddock shook his head, trembling with the events of the past week. "I betrayed them," he cried, the self-loathing dripping from each word.
Spike Scarlatti edged forward, careful to keep his hands in view. "Sam, buddy, you didn't. Believe me, you didn't betray anyone." He eyed the distance between his teammate and the edge, trying to keep calm. "Come on, Sam, let's get the heck out of here and go home; Lou owes me a homecoming party and you owe me a drink or two." His smile felt strained; his fear overriding what negotiating skills he had.
Sam's brow furrowed, something flashing in his eyes. His body shook, the gun lowering long enough for Spike to sneak a few more steps closer. The sniper gasped, sucking in breath, almost doubling over with a soft moan. But before Spike could close the gap, Braddock had recovered, bringing his gun back up and once again sneaking back towards the edge.
Behind him, the ocean waves leapt upwards, their white caps crashing against the once magnificent island fortress. The roar of those waves sounded greedy, hungry for blood to a certain panicking bomb tech. His teammate and friend backed up another step, the stone under his boots crumbling as the sniper's weight bore down on it. "Sam, stop!" Spike begged. "I know it feels like everything's falling apart, but it's not. Put the gun down, get away from the edge, and let's go home, Samtastic."
Sam's eyes flickered, but, as they turned towards Spike, they went opaque again. As he shifted to step back again, he said, "See you on the other side."