Fandom: Flashpoint
Pairing: Sam/Jules; Sam/OC
Category: Romance, Drama, Angst
Rating: M
Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I don't own Flashpoint, and all characters remain property of the show's wonderful scriptwriters. All original characters and plots are mine. No copyright infringement is intended.
Synopsis: Semi-AU. When Sam gets a blast from his past, his life as he knows it starts crumbling down. Generally K+, but may be M in some chapters.
Author's Note: This plot has been playing around in my head for quite a while, and I always hesitated on writing it because I didn't know where it would take me or where I wanted it to take me. It's going to be different from what I normally write (for starters, it's not a one-shot! Yippee!) with more angst and drama and you might hate me somewhere along the way. I don't know where this is going to end up yet… but I hope you'll join me for the journey. Happy reading!
A man cannot free himself from the past more easily than he can from his own body
~ André Maurois ~
PROLOGUE
Four years ago
The midday sun was high, a majestic arc of yellow that rose up above in the cloudless sky. Its rays stretched out the horizon, cradling it in its warmth. On another day, the heat might be described as unbearable, stifling; but on this day, the heat was glorious, for no one was really paying attention to their sweat-drenched shirts or the perspiration pooling at their temples.
Today, the lack of clouds signaled that prayers for great weather had been answered; all anyone would remember from this day was how faces were aglow under the magnificent sun and how smiles never faded and how laughter and joy burst forth without restraint.
Today was the start of the beginning.
He stood at the front of the altar, dressed in his Sunday best. Under different circumstances, the bowtie might have been a little too tight for his liking, but today he paid it no heed. The coat, which he normally would have tossed aside in the summer, hugged his shoulders and concealed the evidence of the overbearing temperatures.
He grinned as the soft music played and the crowd rose to their feet. He saw family, friends, acquaintances; fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, men and women he'd give his life for; people he cared for who also cared enough for him to be here, today.
But his widest smile was reserved for the woman who was making her way slowly towards him, her gloved hand lightly placed on her father's, her eyes shimmering brightly with unshed tears of joy. She outshone the sun with her beauty; she was nothing short of dazzling to him.
Her white gown was elaborate, the short sleeves encased in tantalizing lace that hovered decently above her bosom. The long train trailed behind her, as she, assisted by two flower girls, took one small step after another.
Each small step was a step that would take her closer to him.
He was tempted to make a snide remark under his breath about how her choice of date and time was not exactly best suited to her choice of attire, but he kept his mouth shut when she, obviously reading his mind and knowing exactly what he was about to say, shot him a look to stay silent.
He choked on his laughter as they shared a secret smile, bound together by the inside joke that only they were privy to, and he whispered a soft "You're so beautiful" that were for her ears only.
He felt the soft material of her hand in his and his thumb rubbed over her palm. She tightened her grip on his hand, the applied pressure an indication of her nervous excitement and the suppressed anticipation for this day.
Lacing his fingers through hers, he gently turned them both to face the priest who had been silently observing them, and with an imperceptible nod, gave him the go-ahead to begin.
He turned once more to the woman beside him, the words of the priest a blur droning in the background. He studied her face: her eyes, her ears, her nose, that little beauty mark concealed by her eyebrows, the way her lips curled upwards, and he committed each one to memory, wanting nothing more than to savor her blissful expression on this day.
He barely paid attention when her father stepped forward to say "Her mother and I do", focused only on her as she focused only on him. When at last the time came for them to say the words they'd rehearsed individually over the past few months, he found his voice shaking and his hands trembling, and tears he didn't know he could cry gathered in his eyes as he pledged an unending, everlasting and eternal love.
Today was the start of the beginning; a step into the future they would make together, a step into the unknown they would take together, hand-in-hand.
If only he knew then, how much the happiness of today would cost him the joy of the future.