Chapter Five: A Grief Shared
"A Squib?" Ed asked, forehead wrinkling in confusion.
Lance sighed a little and spoke up, "A Squib is someone born to magical parents either without magic or without enough magic to use."
Sam tilted his head at the boy in agreement. "Most Squibs get kicked out of the magical world with nothing more than the clothes on their back. No training, no education, no anything."
"What? Why?" Wordy demanded.
Wilkins snorted in the background, earning himself a glare from everyone else.
Alanna jumped in, "I don't know about here in Canada, but in Britain, Squibs are considered shameful. For 'prominent purebloods' to give birth to a Squib is a stain on the family honor."
Sam took over again. "It's actually better than it used to be. Used to be that Squibs were murdered by their own family." He shifted uncomfortably at Team One's horrified looks and kept going. "The General was kicked out of the magical world just like I said. Took a couple years, but he ended up joining the military. The military gave him an education, a chance to work his way up, and support a family. He met Mom while he was at the Academy and the rest was history."
"And you grew up hearing about his history?" Sarge asked, eyes glinting with interest.
The blond shrugged. "Sure, Sarge. He wanted me to know about the magical world so I'd know to never, ever trust 'em." He fidgeted and looked at Alanna, adding apologetically, "As far as the General's concerned, purebloods are the worst of the worst." The redhead stiffened, hurt showing in her eyes. Sam hastily moved on, "When I made JTF2, I was tapped to join a unit made up of Squibs and the kids of Squibs."
Spike whistled. "Your dad must have been impressed."
Sam snorted. "More like furious, Spike. When he found out which unit I'd been assigned to, he tried to pull strings to get me moved to a different unit. First time I ever told him 'no'." The blond rubbed at his hair. "Turns out the General actually had a reason for that. I didn't find out till later that our unit had wizard handlers." He smirked without humor. "I don't think any of us trusted them, 'specially since we were 'just Squibs' to them."
"Kind of like us working with Aurors?" Lou queried, casting an annoyed look at Wilkins.
"Kind of," Sam agreed. "We got called in whenever Afghanistan wizards started working with terrorists. We'd get a mission brief from our handlers about who we were going after and what they'd done. Then we'd go in, find our target, and take them out."
Silence hung for a long moment. Then Ed cleared his throat. "So, did you end up transferring out of the unit?"
"No," Sam replied, shaking his head. "That was my unit, Ed." He swallowed hard. "Matt…Matt died on one of our magic side missions."
Alanna wrapped her arms around Sam, hugging him hard. Sarge shifted forward, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. The rest of Team One shifted, surrounding their rookie member. Sam blinked back his tears and kept going. "He shouldn't have been there, we'd pulled back and I was cleared to fire. I think he was hit by the Imperius or something."
"And after?" Sarge asked quietly.
After… Sam looked down, fighting old grief and anguish. After had been so much worse…
"Who are you working for?" the furious wizard roared at the captive.
"JTF2," the captive replied, his voice a monotone.
"You're lying," the other wizard in the room hissed, expression livid. Fresh shock and grief stood out on his face and body; Matt had been his brother and despite their differences, they'd been close.
"No, sir," the captive refuted, expression blank.
Matt's brother snarled and whirled to his fellow wizard. "Give him another dose!" he demanded.
The first wizard took a step back at his fellow's vehemence. "Two doses in less than an hour could kill him," he protested.
"I don't care," the grieving wizard all but screamed. "He killed my brother."
There was a brief stand-off between the two wizards but the first wizard folded and nodded. He removed the bottle of Veritaserum from his robes and strode to the captive. Three more drops fell into the captive's mouth. The already blank eyes went even blanker and the captive's eyes began to dilate. The wizards ignored the fact that the captive started to shake in his seat.
"Who are you working for?" the first wizard demanded again.
"JTF2," the captive replied again. The monotone voice shook a little.
"Why did you fire?" the grieving wizard wailed.
"I was cleared to fire."
"He was still there!"
The captive's eyes flickered under the blankness. Grief touched the monotone. "I know."
The first wizard took over, voice grim. "If you had known he was there, would you have fired?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
"Matt was my teammate, I wouldn't have fired on him."
"He doesn't even care," Matt's brother burst out.
As this was not directed at the captive, the captive did not respond. His shaking increased and sweat began to bead on his forehead. Formerly calm breathing began to turn harsh. As the two wizards argued, the captive continued to sweat and shake. His eyes dilated to the point that his blue irises were completely obscured by the black pupil. Sweat began to pour down the man's face. Harsh breathing turned ragged and the cuffs around the captive's wrists began to clatter with the force of his shaking.
Matt's brother whirled to the captive. "Do you even care that my brother's dead?" he snarled.
The captive did not reply. In front of both watching wizards, he began to convulse, falling out of the chair as he choked and his eyes rolled in their sockets. On the floor, he thrashed so hard that his leg broke against the table's steel legs.
The first wizard raced for the door, yelling for a healer. The second glared hatefully at the thrashing soldier and he vowed to himself that Sam Braddock would never, ever go into combat again. He did not move to help the fallen man.
Sam relayed what had happened after Matt's death in a monotone eerily similar to what he had sounded like under Veritaserum. Neither wizard had been charged or even reprimanded for giving him the overdose. What little trust Sam had gained for wizards and magic had been shattered. "I never told the General," he admitted, trembling a little. Alanna's hug grew tighter and her brother hovered, looking torn between sorrow and outrage. "My 'handlers' arranged my discharge; I was out before my unit even knew about it."
"Did they add you to the SRU too?" Wordy asked, tilting his head. He kept his voice calm with an iron effort; fury simmered in the depths of his eyes at how Sam had been treated. The rest of Team One was equally furious and Sarge's expression had gone almost frighteningly flat, as though the least little display of emotion would cause his temper to erupt.
The blond shook his head. "No, I asked my godfather for help with that."
"Sam?" Sam looked up to see Sarge frowning thoughtfully. "How well known is your unit? On the magical side of things, I mean."
Sam blinked, confused by the question. "I don't think your average witch or wizard knows about it, Sarge."
"What about in the government?" Sarge pressed, looking toward a nervous Auror Wilkins.
"Sure, they'd know, Sarge. I mean, we had to have special clearance to use military equipment against wizards." The light dawned as Sam followed Sarge's smoldering glare to the Auror.
Instead of waiting for Sergeant Parker to finish his accusation, Wilkins sneered. "Yeah, I knew about you, Braddock. Bet you enjoyed that, didn't you? Killing a wizard, just like you used to." He ignored the glares from Sam's teammates. "Pity Parker didn't have the sense to just dump you like your unit in Afghanistan did."
Sam was shocked when Sarge and Wordy had to catch two junior wizard sized bullets before the teens could pounce on the smug Auror.
Author's Note: I have decided to switch from posting on Fridays to posting on Tuesdays and Fridays, at least for now. I didn't think anyone would mind the change in schedule. Please do note that, at some point, I may opt to go back to once a week, depending on how much material I have in reserve. I'll do my very best to, at minimum, post at least once a week.
For all of my American readers and anyone else, Happy Thanksgiving in this Year of Our Lord (Anno Domini, for you Latin fans) 2016.