Disclaimer: I don't own flashpoint

Chapter 1

Sam was quietly lifting weights when he heard it, the unmistakable voice of his dad coming towards him. What on earth was he doing here? He felt a shiver run down his back. He had no love for the man, who had tried to dictate everything in Sam's life from what he did to what he wore. Sam had always felt like a soldier under his fathers command and he hated it. His father was one of the reasons he had left the military. He hadn't spoken to his dad since he had left the military a couple of months ago, so he wasn't to thrilled to see General Badass now. He wondered if it was to late to make a run for it…probably.

"Sam Braddock," yup definitely too late. The dude always seemed to talk around like he owned everything, and he definitely seemed to think he owned Sam.

"Dad…w-what are y-you doing here?" Frick he sounded like a stuttering idiot, always did around his dad. He couldn't lie the dude was one scary man. There he was staring daggers at Sam. And naturally he had brought the bodyguards and the assistants.

"Sam, you have to come with me. Now!" The General had the don't mess with me face on.

Sam sighed, "Dad I told you, I'm not going back to the army. It's time—"

"Sam, enough, this isn't about your more than questionable judgment. You need to come with me right now."

"I don't—I don't understand…" Sam was now standing in his sweaty gym clothes, looking at his dad with a sudden sense of fear.

"Sam," The General sighed, "I don't have time to explain now. I've spoken with your boss. Now lets go!" It was at this point Sam noted the tear tracks on his dad's face and something he had never seen in his dad's eyes before. He looked afraid.

"Sam, Now!"

"O-okay. Let me just change and then—"

"No, there's no time," The General walked over to Sam, grabbed his arm, and dragged him forward. Seeing the urgency in his dad's eyes, Sam allowed himself to be man handled out of the gym, down the hall, where other SRU officers stared openly as Sam was rushed on until, he was placed into a government car with tinted windows. His father joined him and barked at the driver to move.

For a few minutes Sam and his father sat in silence, but Sam couldn't help himself after a while. "Dad what the hell is going on?"

"You're mother, sister, and cousin…there dead."

It took a couple seconds for the words to sink in, "D-dead…" he only realized he was crying when he felt the tears running down his face. "H-how?" he could barely get the word out, but he had to know.

"Terrorists. We don't think they meant to kill them. It looked like they were trying to take them, but… We're not sure if this is because of my position or your uncle's, but we can't take any chances. They left us a note with your home address on it though. We've agreed you'll go to you're uncle's. Until we know more we can't take any chances."

Sam was lost for words. His mother, sister, and cousin were dead. The thought made his heart break. He would never see them again. He had talked to all of them recently; they had been trying to get him and his dad to get over themselves. Johnny was only sixteen. God…he couldn't believe this was happening. He wanted to it something, but instead he settled for loud gasping sobs.

"Shhh…Sammy, we'll get through this," The General's usual tough exterior had vanished with the sight of his son's tears. Sam was the only child he had left and he was going to protect him. The General engulfed Sam in his arms, hugging him tightly, as Sam cried.

It was thirty minutes to the nearest airport and during that time The General and Sam let their sorrow for their lost loved ones out, but when they got there the tears were wiped away. Both were now determined to display calm exteriors, even if inside they were really both a mess.

"W-where are we going?" Sam asked, looking at the airport with an expression of confusion.

"Sam, I told you in the car, you're going to stay at you're uncles for a while…just until we sort this out," Sam stared at his dad open mouth. Clearly he hadn't heard that part of what his father had said.

"The White House! You're shipping me out to the White House. Don't…don't I get a say? What about work? What about my life?"

"Honestly Sam…no right now you don't get a say. You're my son, you might think you're a big boy but you're twenty-two years old. Now, you're going to get on an airplane, it's going to take you to you're uncle, and you're going to stay with him. You will not leave unless you are given express permission and are accompanied by the Secret Service. Do you understand?"

"So that's it, I'm a prisoner. What if you don't find these people? What about my job? I don't want people following me everywhere I go that's why I turned them down in the first place."

"Your not a prisoner, Sam," The General sighed. "We're trying to protect you. If these people get their hands on you…I won't let them hurt you. If keeping you safe means keeping you with your uncle at the White House for a few weeks or months that's what's going to happen." Sam started at his dad, his mouth hanging open. Weeks? Months? He hated DC, hated the Secret Service, and hated no privacy.

"I—"

"Let's go Sam. I've heard enough. We've just lost you're mother, sister, and Michael, and I can't loose you too. Do you understand?"

"I want to help, though. I can help find them—"

"No! You will do no such thing. What you will be doing so going to stay with your uncle. Now they're going to take you, okay?"

Sam nodded and embraced his dad. Then he slowly got out of the car, and was immediately surrounded by armed men. Great, this was apparently his life now. He was quickly rushed past airport security and onto a private jet where he found more armed men in black suits. He found himself a seat, as far away from the secret service agents as possible and began staring solemnly out the window. He couldn't stop the thoughts, thoughts of his mothers laugh, his sisters always sparkling eyes, and Michael's cheery smile. They were gone, all gone.

He felt like crying again, his stomach was in knots and his throat help tight. Talking a few deep breaths he pushed thought of his lost family away, resolved to deal with his emotions another day.

"Mr. Braddock?" Looking up, he found himself staring up at a suit. "Hello, my name is Special Agent Andrew Burrows, I'll be leading your security team."

"S-security team?" Sam had only ever had one or two secret service and only when there had been some sort of a threat directed at his father or uncle that was deemed credible, now apparently he had a team, which was just great.

"Yes, you will have a minimum of five agents with you at all times."

"Five…" that was more than even Michael had.

Agent Burrows nodded. "Mr. Braddock, with everything that's happened we can't take any chances. Now I want to make a few things clear before we touch down," 'shit, here comes the speech,' Sam thought to himself. "I have spoken with both your uncle and father and I've read you're file. I know you have military training—"

Sam's eyebrows rose, "I have a file?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, that being said, I know your track record with the secret service. How you managed to get rid of your agents so many times is beyond me."

Sam could help but smile, "and to think that was before training."

Agent Burrows sighed. "Mr. Braddock, it is our job to protect you," Burrows stated.

"I understand."

"Good, then we wont have any problems," Burrows said with a smile.

"No, no problems." Sam agreed.

It took three hours to get to D.C., the place Sam was dreading going back to. As soon as Sam and his five agents were out of the airplane, they were bundled into a helicopter, once he got out of the helicopter, in god knows where, he was placed in a government car, which finally took him to the White House. Through out it all Sam was silent allowing himself to be shepherded around, as thoughts of his lost loved ones filled his mind; this was like some messed up nightmare, he couldn't get out of.

When he finally made it to the White House residence, all he wanted to do was sleep, and hope that when he woke up he would find this whole day to have been nothing but a bad dream. Unfortunately, he was met at the residence by this aunt, who was a mess. Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes looked empty and her hair was a mess; she was not the same women he remembered. He found himself walking up to her and folding her into a tight embrace. He had promised himself no more tears, but once again, they were streaming down his face. God, he was so tired.

For a few minutes they just stood there holding each other tight. "Well," Amanda Douglas spoke, her voice shaky, "let's get you inside." She guided him into the residence still clutching him tight to her, as if she was scared if she let go he would disappear as well.

"Tom's doing some work, I think it's helping him…keeping busy," Amanda tried to wipe away the tears from her eyes. "Sam what are you wearing?"

Sam looked down at himself, for the first time realizing he was still wearing his gym clothes. "I— my dad…he did give me much time to change. Just, you know, charged in and told me I had to come with him. Sorry, I didn't bring anything either. Did…know what happened…or where I was going till I was in the car…"

"Well that sounds like you're dad. I'm guessing you weren't to happy when you found out you were coming to stay."

"Auntie…you know I love you, but…D.C. is not my favorite place in the world."

"And I'm guessing you didn't love the idea of all the secret service agents either," she added with a smile that did quit reach her eyes.

"Well…no. Agent Burrows felt the need to remind me escape was not an option, though I think he was impressed with my track record. He said they even have a file on me, made me feel special. It also seems I've got myself a new code name."

This time Amanda's smile was more genuine, "and what would that be?"

"Well I'm now officially Houdini, which I think is an improvement from Peter Pan."

"Yes, I agree. So would you like something to eat?"

"Uhh, no I'm okay."

"Sammy, when's the last time you had something to eat?"

"I…I had an apple," it was true, even if he had had it yesterday.

"Really? And when was that?" she asked. She knew Sam too well, he…he was like a son.

"Auntie, I'm fine. I'm really not hungry."

"Sam Braddock I asked you when."

Sam frowned, "yesterday, but—"

"That's what I thought. Let's go I'll have David make you a sandwich," Sam sighed, but followed as she began walking.

It was a few hours later, when Sam finally made it to a bed. He was still wearing his sweaty workout close, but didn't really care. He just wanted to sleep for a while, the tears, sadness, and whirlwind of events had exhausted him. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light.