Okay guys, this is my first Flashpoint fan-fiction so hopefully you all will enjoy it. I recently got obsessed with the show and I haven't even finished watching all the seasons. (I'm still on season two…Lou just died, it was very sad)

This takes place in season two, but before Lou dies and after Donna leaves.

Sam's my favorite character (I've always been a sucker for the military types with dark and twisted pasts ^^ Cuz I'm weird that way.)

I am not Canadian, but my best friend is.

I own not this television series or…any television series for that matter so no profit goes to me for writing this. It's all just for fun.

This story is nearly finished, I was just getting a bit impatient and decided that I wanted to share it with the world. As of now it's at 7,800 words and growing. I plan to update once a week. If I don't feel free to bug me about it ^^

Warnings: Violence, blood, slight gore and disturbing images in later chapters

Also I'll say now that I am a PHOTOGRAPHER, not an English major. So grammatical mistakes will happen and I apologize for that in advanced. Still I strive to make your reading experience as pleasant as possible so if there are any Beta's out there interested in helping me out, let me know. ^^

Please enjoy!

- Strawberry

Chapter One

"Sam you left yourself out in the open, if the guy had been a better shot you'd be dead right now." Sergeant Greg Parker growled at the younger man from across the briefing table. The doors were locked and the team – minus Ed were in the middle of a heated debriefing after a hot call gone wrong.

Frustration was growing as Sam stared at the file in front of him. He wished the debriefing could have waited until Ed had returned, but the home front had called the older man away – leaving Sam to take the full force of the rest of the team.

"We were talking the target down, Ed motioned me closer." Sam's voice was low, as calm as could be maintained under the circumstances. "I was just following orders."

Jules was the hardest to look at, her eyes burning with passion in the form of rage building inside her small body. "The situation shouldn't have escalated that far. You had the shot when Sarg called 'Scorpio' and you didn't take it!" Everything about her posture and voice pointed an accusing finger at Braddock – she was upset, rightfully so after what had happened.

Sam shook his head, but he was getting tired of defending himself and Ed's actions in the field. The others hadn't been there. They didn't understand and it seemed to Sam as if they didn't want to either. "I had the shot before, but I lost it in that moment. The risk of hitting the hostage was too high, Ed was trying to get a better vantage but it was already too late. The hostage was down and the suspect was fleeing – we went to intercept him."

Sam had stopped his explanation and glanced around the room for an understanding face – there was no point in continuing to try and defend his actions when everyone in the room was showing signs of such aggression and frustration. It had just been a bad case – simple as that. Sam didn't have to convince them of his actions now – he only needed to convince his boss. Perhaps then Greg would call the briefing to a close and they could all go home and reflect – reflect without aiming all their anger and frustration at him.

Continuing Sam focused his eyes forward towards the Sergeant. "We cut him off and Ed motioned me around to box him in. He had nowhere to go and Ed was getting through to him. The gun was almost down." Sam shook his head and dropped his eyes back down to the table top, faltering slightly before admitting to his one and only mistake. "I was moving in slow, but my boot knocked against a loose rock. The sound must have spooked the gunman and…he turned and fired at me. Ed took the kill shot." Sam finally looked around the room once again, "it was my fault okay? It was my fault."

Focusing his attention back to the folder Sam quickly shut the file and waited to be crucified. Silence had filled the room and the absence of sound was threatening to the ex military man. Not risking a look at the others on his team he waited as patiently as possible for more condemnation.

From across the briefing room table he heard Greg take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sam, Gordon Walker was a desperate man looking for a way out. He had just shot his hostage and knew there was no way out for him. He was looking at a long jail sentence and possibly life in prison for what he had done today."

"Suicide by cop." Jules summed up, her voice still hard but not as jagged as before.

Without looking up Sam couldn't tell if they were just humoring him or they were sincerely trying to justify what had happened – Sam did noticed that they were all a bit shocked when he had turned on himself. At first he had tried to defend his actions – but it was stupid to do so. Sam had already been beating himself up mentally before the briefing had started. Had he gotten into a better position to start with he wouldn't have lost the solution in the first place. If he had been paying attention the gunman wouldn't have known he was closing in…it had all gotten so screwed up.

Every mistake he had made were things the greenest of rookie's would make – Sam felt the failure like a knife in the throat.

Another exhale from across the table and the scrapping of a chair against the floor signaled the end of the briefing before Greg confirmed it vocally. "It's been a tough day, team. Let's go home and rest – tomorrow we'll regroup and start fresh."

More scraping told Sam that the rest of the team were following the request and leaving the briefing room – still the weary soldier remained stationed, eyes focused blankly on the file in front of him on the table.

A few moments after the shuffling and footsteps had faded Sam thought he might be alone, but when his eyes finally took in the room the Sarg was still standing across from him looking concerned. Then again it was his job to be concerned about his people. "It was a rough day." Greg repeated with strained sincerity. "Try not to over think things too much. Get some sleep – tomorrow we go back to saving lives."

Though the last comment was meant to reassure, or inspire, or something – but to Sam it felt more like the man was twisting the knife in his gut. Today Sam had failed to save two lives – it was his actions that ended the call in disaster.

With a sharp nod Sam pushed away from the table and blindly headed towards the locker room. When he arrived in the room the other guys had already gone into the showers. Pausing for a moment Sam quickly decided to skip the shower and just head home. By the time he got to his apartment with his bike he'd want to shower again anyway. No point of wasting his energy and time – or risk more confrontation with his team.

Switching from his SRU uniform to his civilian clothes took more time then typical. His shoulder was still sore from where one of the bullets had hit his vest. Ed had been aware of the hit but Sam had brushed it off – it hadn't been that bad. A few bruises were nothing life threatening and Ed was really the only one who knew he'd actually been hit – well, as far as Sam knew. Normally the team would go all 'mother hen' on anyone who got hit no matter how minor the injury was.

Kind of felt like crap that no one had noticed even though if they had it would be a pain and the ass dealing with all the attention. Such odd and conflicting emotions, Sam thought with a roll of his eyes.

Unimpressed with his mind's focus of thought Sam shut his locker and headed out for the night. The cool temperature and the moonless sky were welcoming. Once outside Sam stopped and inhaled the fresh air deep into his lungs. The sky above him was clouded with gray and the moon was hidden somewhere beyond the dark blanket. The lights of the city seemed dim tonight and the moisture in the air was thick and waiting for the impending downpour of rain.

It felt good to be outside. He wouldn't admit that he was claustrophobic but after being at war Sam had always preferred to be outside where he could see everything around him. Small spaces with four walls and a roof were a trap – it was easier to see what was coming when it was in front of you in plain sight. It was easier to survive when you had room to move.

Perhaps it was another reason why Sam had sold his car for the bike. His car had felt like a coffin – just another reminder of war and old fears of driving over another roadside bomb. It was good to slow down, like he had told Jules, especially in their line of work when everything happened so fast. It was also a good way for a soldier to reinitiate themselves into a world away from the front lines.

His first week back had been the worst – checking rooftops for snipers, jumping at any loud bang that could be a gunshot or explosion. It was maddening looking for danger in a place that was supposed to be home – supposed to be safe. Working for the SRU made things better in some ways. With work he was able to go out and take on the 'bad guys' and protect the city.

In other ways work was making him complacent – the constant fear of the enemy seeking him out was fading. Sam no longer ducked at a car back firing or checked every single person on the sidewalk for any sign of weapons or hostility. The only thing that still made him pause was thunderstorms, which looked and sounded way too much like bombs.

Over all though Sam felt safe, which was both good and bad.

When he had first started working with the SRU team Sam would never have allowed the events of today happen. Most noticeably he would have been aware of where his feet were and what was around them. That stone would not have been knocked into. Stealth was something that kept a soldier alive in war. Especially a sniper.

Shaking his head, Sam unlocked the chain on his bike and sat heavily on the seat. The sky opened up in that moment – drips and drops of rain splattering on Sam and the dark world around him. At least it was just rain tonight. With little acknowledgement to the weather Sam pushed off and headed towards home. It had been an exhausting day and his mind was in overdrive trying to picture what he could have done to have a better outcome.

"I have the solution," Sam told the team over the line but glanced at Ed next to him. "I have it, but I could lose it if he moves Ed."

"Stay there, I'll try and get a better vantage. If he escalates we need at least one solution." Ed shook his head and moved away. That, of course, was when everything went to hell.

"Scorpio!" Greg called over the line suddenly and in that moment Sam lost the shot.

"No solution, no solution." Sam called over the line and a shot was fired. Breath hitching slightly Sam met Ed's gaze before glancing down at the older man's gun. No smoke, the shot had come from the suspect. The hostage was down and all at once they were running.

"Moving to intercept the subject." Ed was saying over the line, Sam had a dull suspicion that more words had been spoken. Words he had missed when his mind was still processing what had happened.

Peddling down the dimly lit street Sam closed his eyes, pushing the pictures and memories away. There was nothing he could have done differently, at least not now. It was like the Sarg had said, what had been done was done. There were no take backs in real life. No do overs.

Opening his eyes again Sam found himself shivering. The rain was cold and he was thoroughly soaked by this point. With a growling sigh Sam shook his head a bit, maybe avoiding the team hadn't been the best idea. Wordy would have offered him a ride home had Sam stuck around. Then again, maybe he wouldn't have tonight.

No one on the team liked to take the lethal solution and losing hostages hit everyone hard. It wasn't necessarily that they were mad at Sam, but it was clear that he had been the weakest link during the mission. No, not a mission, during the call.

Blinking the rain from his eyes Sam raised his hand up to rub them in the same moment that the headlights spilled over his body like a spotlight. The sound of rushing metal took the soldier by surprise – enough to make him swerve but not enough to help him miss being hit completely.

The next thing Sam was aware of was being on the ground and rain smacking him on his face. A car door opened up and someone was calling out to him. Numb – the pain hadn't registered yet as he lay there on the sidewalk on his back. Sam was aware that the pain would come but for the moment he couldn't help but wonder about the condition of his bike. Slowly he let his head fall to the side, hoping to get a glimpse of it but a pair of black dress shoes blocked his view.

"Young man like you should have a car." A voice, probably the owner of the vehicle was saying. Blinking Sam moved his head upwards again to get a look at the speaker only to be backhanded for his troubles. Okay, so this was no the typical attitude of a citizen driver hitting a pedestrian in a rainstorm. Though Sam had never personally been in this type of situation he always had imagined things going a little differently. For instance the driver frantically calling for an ambulance – not the driver beating the injured victim in the face.

The impact to his face seemed to snap Sam out of the shock and awaken the nerves throughout his battered body. Groaning he tried to breathe through the pain radiating sharply from his right side where the impact had initiated. His lower ribs and hip were the center of the torture Sam was feeling.

The man was talking again, but the buzzing noise of sound was outside of Sam's level of understanding. Right now all Sam knew was that he was in pain and a whole hell of a lot of trouble. This was no ordinary accident. This man wasn't drunk or surprised. The whole situation was bad and had all the probability of getting worse.

"Still awake, hmm?" Sam's eyes snapped forward again, finally catching the outline of the man's shadowed face. "Must have a high tolerance for pain." Leaning forward the man pressed his hand against Sam's right side. "But I need you to sleep now," the man's low voice echoed through the sudden onslaught of pain.

The scream that tore through Sam's throat was surprising even to the young soldier and in the haze of fiery agony Sam found himself grateful for the cold closing darkness.

"Anyone see Sam leave?" Wordy asked coming back into the locker room. He was going to offer the younger man a ride home before it started raining but had been unable to locate him in the building after he'd finished showering.

Spike and Lewis glanced over at him and shook their head. The anger from before had faded and Wordy could see the slight guilt in Spike's eyes as he shook his head. "Haven't seen him since the debriefing." There was a slight pause before the Italian continued, "think he's okay?"

Wordy shook his head, "I think he's beating himself up – it's not like we helped much."

The other two men nodded. "We'll just have to make it up to him tomorrow." Wordy shrugged. "Make sure he knows that he still belongs." He smirked a bit, trying to ease the tension in the room with a light hearted joke, "you guys know how sensitive he can be."

That got a few smiles out of his companions. "See you guys tomorrow." One final wave and he was off. Shelley was cooking dinner and he didn't want to be late if he could help it. When he got down to the parking lot Wordy did glance towards the empty bike rack one last time. It was pouring down rain as Wordy ran to his van and he could only hope Sam got home before it started.

Okay that's all for now folks! Hope I've gotten your attention. ^^

Reviews and Reviewers are loved.