Author's Notes: So sorry for the delay. Real life thinks it's more important than my writing. Silly life. This chapter started taking on a life of its own once I really got started on it. I hope you enjoy it. Probably one more chapter after this one. Two if it takes on a life like this one did.

Disclaimer: The show Flashpoint and its characters were created by Mark Ellis and Stephanie Morgenstern and belong to them and the networks who air the episodes. Since the show has ended, our only way of getting new Flashpoint is through fan fiction. This story is my attempt to help fill the void, and the only profit I make is the warm fuzzy feeling reviews give me. Anything that does not come directly from the show is my own creation and should not be used without my permission.

Out in the Cold

Chapter 11

"What the hell? Spike?"

Trying to block out the fake Sam's protests, Spike shook his head. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to fall for his mind's tricks a second time. He wasn't going to believe that Sam was really here this time. The crunch of tires behind him wasn't real. His body was just cold and tired and was trying to fool him so he would let down his guard. Well, it wasn't going to work. He wasn't going to let Jules down again, figuratively or literally.

"Spike, come on Buddy. You're hurt. Let me take Jules, and we'll get you both to the hospital."

Spike gripped his stick tightly and blinked several times, trying to dispel the images trying to fool him. When he reopened his eyes, Sam was still standing there. He seemed so real, so concerned, but Spike wasn't about to be fooled. Giving in would mean certain death for Jules and mostly likely death for himself as well. Neither was a possibility he could live with and definitely didn't want to die for.

Once again the Sam in front of him reached to take Jules away from him. He swung the stick again but this time the image seemed to expect it. Imagined Sam reached out with one hand and grabbed the stick as Spike swung it and jerked it out of the other man's hands before tossing it to the side.

Spike stared at him dumbly. How the hell did a hallucination manage that move? As he stared in confusion, the figure once more reached for the woman Spike had been carrying and protecting. This time, he had no way to stop the hallucination from taking her from him. At the sudden loss, Spike went wild, fighting to get her back. He couldn't let anything happen to her; she would fight just as hard if not harder if he were the one in trouble.

Something strong and solid wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his side. A reassuring voice spoke into his ear, telling him to calm down and relax. Calm down? Relax? What the hell? His body wasn't allowing him to fight back but he began to yell, protesting to God and everyone that it wasn't fair and that he wasn't going down without a fight.

Sam disappeared and Spike lost sight of Jules in the process. He renewed his attempts to move but he couldn't break free of whatever was holding him. He doubled over as much as was possible given his sudden immobilization, his body wracked with sobs of failure and anger. That same soothing, familiar voices once more offered reassurances that he didn't want to listen to.

"Spike, Buddy, it's over. You're okay. Jules is okay. We got you, Buddy." Sarge wasn't sure if his words were even getting through to the younger man but he felt like he had to keep trying. When he'd gotten out of the SUV in time to see Spike hit Sam the first time with the stick, he'd been surprised and even a little alarmed. When he heard Spike threaten to hurt Sam's "nonexistent" body parts, he'd realized that Spike must be thinking he was having delusions.

When Sam had finally taken Jules from him and rushed her back to the warm safety of the SUV, all Sarge could do was hold on to Spike and hope that he could convince him that everything was really okay. Given the heart wrenching sobs coming from the demolitions expert, he wasn't sure how successful he'd been. The only other time he'd ever heard Spike sound this devastated had been the day Lew had been killed.

Ed and Raf pulled up from the opposite direction, having circled around from the direction they had taken. Ed got out, running toward them with a thick blanket in his hands. As he wrapped it around his friend, he looked toward Sarge, his eyebrow raised in question.

"He doesn't think we're really here. Sam has Jules in our SUV; he's probably going to need the space to check her out and work on warming her up. How about taking Spike to your SUV and trying to do the same."

Ed nodded. It was a plan that made sense. "We waiting for an ambulance?"

Sarge shook his head. "No time. Jules looked like she was pretty well unconscious and Spike's in pretty bad shape himself. We can get them to the ER quicker if we take them ourselves."

"Copy that." Ed gripped Spike's shoulder's reassuringly. "Spike, Buddy, it's Ed. Come on, we're going to get you some place warm and then get you to the hospital. Lean on me so you don't put any more weight on that ankle. Looks pretty painful there."

Ed very rarely had to the opportunity to talk down a subject; as a sniper, his skills were better used in Sierra position. At that moment though, Greg was reminded that he had the ability to be a great negotiator as well. He wondered if Izzy's arrival and becoming a father of a daughter had softened some of the man's edges some. Regardless, it looked like Ed was starting to get to Spike where he had failed. Spike's head came up, his eyes pleading with Ed.

"Ed? Really you?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah, Spike, it's really me. We're all here and we're going to take care of you."

The younger man looked around, frantically searching for something. "Jules? Where?"

"Sam has her. He's checking her out, trying to get her warmed up. Just like I want to do for you. I'm going to get Raf to pull up really close so you don't have to walk. Okay? Just hang on to me a minute more and we'll get you warm."

The SUV pulled up right beside them and Ed opened the back door. He helped Spike inside and closed the door behind him. Greg looked from one SUV to the other before keying his microphone. "Winnie, put in a call to St. Simon's emergency department. Let them know to expect two victims of possibly extreme hypothermia as well as other injuries. ETA of about twenty minutes."

"Copy that, Boss."

With Winnie's acknowledgment in his ears, Greg returned to his SUV. Once he was settled in the driver's seat, he turned to look back to where Sam was checking on Jules. "How is she, Sam?"

"Her breathing is pretty shallow and I'm having trouble finding a pulse." Sam sounded in control but there was a hint of panic just below the surface. It had been scary enough just finding her unresponsive but he was growing more concerned with each passing second. They had found them, but were they too late?

"Hypothermia will do that though," Greg reminded him as he eased past the other SUV so it would have room to turn around and follow them. "Slows down the metabolism almost to the point of not being detectable. We have to trust that she's going to be okay. The ER is expecting us and we'll get her and Spike there as quickly as we can. Is she responsive at all?"

They all had basic first aid, had to in their line of work where sometimes they might be the first and best chance someone in medical distress had of surviving. Sam probably had a little more training than the rest of his team given his military background. However there was a reason why doctors didn't treat their own family members and why he probably shouldn't be treating the woman he loved. He was too close and too worried to think objectively and clearly. But at the same time, he couldn't trust her well-being to anyone else.

He'd tried talking to her from the moment he'd gotten her in his arms, making sure that his radio wasn't transmitting. For a man who didn't need to beg for anything, he'd quickly found himself pleading desperately with her to open her eyes and acknowledge him. Instead she'd remained slack in his arms.

"Her automatic reflexes are working but nothing else. I think she's got a concussion on top of the hypothermia. There's a small gash on her temple as well as a pretty nasty knot." Definitely worse than what he'd noticed in those moments when Ronnie Dublin had held her at gunpoint in front of the house. He lifted one of her eyelids and shined a pen light directly into her eye. Then he repeated the move with the other eye. "Pupils are equal and reactive to light, so that's good. Her skin is just so cold though."

He wasn't surprised that at his last observation, Sarge turned the heat up even more. It didn't matter if the two men got too warm so long as they did everything they could to warm Jules. From the moment that Sam had gotten her in the vehicle, he'd removed his jacket and slipped it on her, as much for her modesty as for her warmth. Then he'd wrapped her in three of the blankets he'd retrieved from the emergency kit when they had first set out looking for their friends. He'd barely taken the time to note the bruises around her ribs, knowing it was more important right then to get her warm than worry about minor injuries.

His fingers brushed against the wound on her temple. Jules whimpered and her eyelids fluttered. Sam held his breath, sorry he'd caused her pain but hopeful she was waking up. She didn't, but her lips were moving slightly. Realizing she was saying something, he leaned close, putting his ear as close to her as he could. He couldn't make out much of what she was saying but he though he caught his name and the word sorry but he couldn't be sure. He frowned, what could she possibly have to be sorry about? He was the one who was sorry. Sorry that he hadn't been able to prevent her from being hurt; sorry that he hadn't found her sooner; sorry that he couldn't do more for her now; sorry that he couldn't show her exactly how grateful he was that she was now safe.

"What about you Sam? Are you okay? Looked like Spike caught you pretty good with that stick." Greg glanced up to the rearview mirror.

He couldn't very well admit that he wasn't going to be okay until he knew for sure Jules was okay. He owed it to her and to himself not to give their relationship away. He touched his side where the stick had caught him. The area was a little tender but nothing he couldn't handle. "I'm fine. Apparently Kevlar is good for more than just stopping bullets. What about Spike? Is he okay? I had to stop him but I didn't want to hurt him. I'm not sure what he was seeing but it was obvious it wasn't me."

Greg sighed. Seeing Spike break down that way hadn't been easy; not being able to do anything to really reassure him and break through whatever delusion was keeping him from realizing help had arrived had been even worse. "You didn't hurt him. I think Ed was able to get through to him or at least was having more success than I was. Spike wouldn't have knowingly hurt you either; you know that. He was simply doing what he though he had to do to protect Jules."

Sam glanced back down at the unconscious woman lying on the seat beside him. She meant the world to him whether he could express it to his co-workers or not. Yes, it had been frustrating in the moment to want to take her in the safety of his arms and being denied the ability as Spike fought him off. At the same time, how could he fault Spike for doing everything he possibly could to protect her when she couldn't protect herself? "They've been through so much today. We don't even know the whole story. As much as I wish it hadn't happened, I'm glad they were there to help each other through it."

It was true. If he couldn't have been there to have her back, he couldn't have asked for a better stand in. Making sure his body was shielding his actions in case Sarge looked back, Sam reached out and tenderly traced the outline of her jaw with his thumb. Again she whimpered slightly but this time it didn't seem like from pain. There was so much he wanted - no, that he needed - to say to her. Yet, he had to remain silent, had to keep those private thoughts to himself until he could be sure only Jules would hear them.

It seemed to take forever to reach the hospital but finally Sarge was pulling up in front of the Emergency Department with Raf and Ed right behind. Winnie had not only alerted the ER department that they were coming, she had apparently put them on high alert because as soon as the SUVs stopped, a medical team converged on each vehicle and quickly bundled Jules and Spike onto stretchers and wheeled them away from the team. Sam didn't want to let Jules out of his sight again but he knew he had to in order for the doctors to treat her. Instead, he followed Sarge, Ed, and Raf to the waiting room as if he was just another concerned colleague.

As Sam slumped down into one of the hard plastic chairs the hospital had in the waiting room, he felt a sense of déjà vu settle over him. It was irrational, he knew. Sure it had been in similar seats on a surgical floor when the team had gathered in time for Ed to finally be wheeled into surgery after he'd been shot. That had been different though. Sure, he'd been concerned that Ed had delayed surgery so long in order to be there for the birth of Izzy that he would run the risk of permanent nerve damage or loss of motor function, but Ed was Ed. A teammate, a friend, certainly someone he was concerned about, but not someone whose very being and safety mattered more than Sam's own. In short, Ed was not Jules.

Sam thought back to when Jules had been shot by the sniper. That time he'd missed out on the waiting room vigil. He'd had to worry separately from the team while being grilled by SIU over the fatal take down of the man who had put her in the hospital. By the time he'd made it to the hospital that time, her surgery had been over and he'd been able to go directly to her side.

Waiting wasn't his strongest quality. Even in a Sierra position where he might have to stand by for maybe even hours at a time, he used the wait time to run scenarios in his head so he was prepared for every contingency. Waiting without something practical to fill his mind gave him too much time to think. Scenarios were still running through his head but currently only worst case ones.

What if she didn't survive? What if she had frostbite that couldn't be treated and she lost sensation in her fingers or toes - or worse, had to have them amputated? He'd tried to check for frostbite before he bundled her up but he knew his own medical knowledge was severely limited. He would love her no matter what happened but he knew how devastated such a loss would leave Jules.

The wait seemed to stretch out to impossible lengths of time. He heard Sarge call Wordy to give their former teammate an update. Ed left and returned with coffee for everyone - hospital vending machine coffee not Timmys. It didn't matter to Sam. He drank it not because he wanted it but because everyone else was. After a few sips, he set the cup aside; every swallow of the almost scalding liquid felt like a stab to the back to Jules. He'd been relatively warm all day while she'd been freezing. He knew she wouldn't want him feeling guilty that way but until he could be alone with her so she could chew him out for it, he couldn't help himself.

After thirty minutes stretched more into an hour without any word, Sarge cleared his throat. "Technically, we are off call right now. Team Six was called in to cover us. If any of you want to leave, it's okay. I'll call as soon as there is word."

No one took him up on his offer, not even Raf who was so new to the team he barely knew anything about their injured colleagues. Sarge wasn't surprised and he didn't try to force the issue. Ed got up, went to the nurse's desk to try to find out something, but returned a few minutes later without any new information. Raf stood and walked around the small area stretching his legs and giving him something to do. Sarge picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. Sam knew he wasn't really reading it and might have even joked about the boss reading Cosmopolitan if the situation had been different.

At long last a doctor in a white coat approached them and sat down on the edge of a coffee table. "Normally I have to call the family by name to locate them in here but your uniforms pretty much made it obvious who you were here for. I'm Dr. Abrams and I've been treating Constables Callaghan and Scarlatti. I'm sorry I didn't get out here to update you earlier but I knew you would want the full story."

"And you have the full story now?" Sarge probed. As usual his tone was calm and even, not betraying the intense worry they all knew he had.

The doctor nodded. "I think so, at least as full a story as we're going to get right away. Both of your friends will make a full recovery. I know that's your biggest concern. For both, hypothermia is the biggest issue. Constable Scarlatti's core temp was 30 degrees upon arrival and Constable Callaghan's was lower at 27.5. We've got them both on heated IV fluids trying to warm them up."

"What about actively warming their blood?" Sam interjected. He knew that was sometimes necessary with hypothermia patients.

The doctor shook his head. "We only like to do that if all other measures fail. For now this seems to be working. Constable Scarlatti's core temp is already up two degrees and Constable Callaghan is up one. Besides the IV fluids, I also put them on humidified warm oxygen. No doubt they breathed in super cool air today and that's not good for the lungs. Hopefully the warm O2 will help prevent pneumonia from setting in."

The doctor allowed that to sink in. "Surprisingly given the exposure to the cold, I saw no signs of frostbite but we will keep an eye on their extremities throughout the night to be sure we didn't miss anything."

"Can we see them?" Raf asked. Sam was glad he did because the question was on his lips as well.

"Soon," the doctor answered. "We are moving them upstairs to a room now. I requested that they share a room, figured it would be easier for you to visit if you didn't have to split the time. While the hypothermia was and is our major concern, it wasn't the only problem. Constable Scarlatti has a severe sprain to his right ankle. X-rays ruled out any fractures but he'll have to stay off it for several days to recover. The rest of his injuries are minor bruising."

"And Jules?" The question left Sam's lips before he could stop himself. "She had a pretty good lump on her head. Maybe broken ribs even."

"Ribs bruised but not broken. X-ray confirmed that. As for the head wound, CT scan ruled out a skull fracture and bleeding in the brain. Probably a slight concussion but we'll know more once she wakes up."

"She's still unconscious?" Now a hint of concern breached Greg's professional calm. They all knew the boss had a soft spot where their female teammate was concerned. Knew that he saw Jules almost like the daughter he never had.

"More like in and out, mostly out." The doctor confirmed. "I'm not overly concerned. Lethargy is pretty common with the degree of hypothermia she presented with and a concussion on top of that would only worsen that. I expect she'll fully wake up with no difficulties in a few hours. Barring any unforeseen complications, I imagine we'll only keep them overnight. Tomorrow, if their temperatures are normal, we'll probably release them. Returning to active duty might take a few more days." It was obvious this wasn't Dr. Abrams's first time to treat police officers.

"A nurse will let you know when we have them settled in a room. I know you want to see them, reassure yourselves that they really are okay, but rest is the best thing for both of them."

"We won't stay long." Greg promised.

There was another question Sam was desperate for an answer to, but couldn't bring himself to ask. It was a legitimate question born from knowing the accusations leveled against Dublin, her state of undress when they found her and Spike, and the demolitions expert's level of protectiveness. But even as a cop it was too personal a question for just a teammate to ask. The doctor hadn't mentioned any concerns in that area so he would have to assume, at least for now, that nothing had happened.

Greg thanked the doctor for the information and as Dr. Abrams left, the team settled in once more to wait. This time it was a much more tolerable wait. Jules and Spike might be a little worse for wear but they were going to be fine - doctor confirmed until visual confirmation could be made.

At long last a nurse came out and gave them the room number and directions on how to get there. Ed, Greg, Raf, and Sam happily left the waiting room probably each with a silent hope that it would be the last time an ER wait for information about an injured teammate would be needed.

Once outside the hospital door, Ed knocked lightly before easing the door open. Jules was in the bed to the left, her smaller size dwarfed even more under the weight of several heavy blankets. Though all four men gave her sleeping figure a careful scrutiny, Sam's gaze lingered long after the others turned their attention to Spike. He noticed the gauze bandage on her forehead and knew she'd complain about it as soon as she was awake.

He remembered when he'd discovered her aversion to visible bandages when they first started dating secretly years earlier. She'd come to his apartment after they got off shift with the idea that they would cook supper together. They were in the kitchen where she'd been doing just that while he'd been doing everything in his power to distract her. He was hoping to convince her to abandon the food and help him "cook" something up in the bedroom. He'd soon realized that it probably wasn't a good idea when one particularly amorous attempt at distracting her while she was dicing vegetables caused her to cut her finger instead the zucchini she was working on.

She hadn't been upset by the cut or the distractions but when she saw his supply of Band-Aids, he had gotten a glimpse of her ire. He hadn't seen anything wrong with his choice of bandages; name brand and everything. She'd finally admitted that she only used clear bandages because she couldn't stand the fuss people made over her when they saw she'd been wounded, even such a minor cut. He'd argued that everyone got injured from time to time and wearing a band-aid wasn't a big deal. To prove his point, he'd worn a band-aid on his finger as well the next day to work. He'd been surprised by the number of people who had asked about hers while ignoring his. After that, he'd always kept a box of clear band-aids in his medicine cabinet in his bathroom, even during the years they were apart. He wished he had one in his pocket for her right then.

His eyes left the white gauze on her temple to drink in the rest of her. She was still much too pale with too much of a hint of blue for his liking. He wanted her eyes to open and her gaze to meet his so he would know for sure that she was okay. They remained closed, however, seemingly unaware of their presence.

He forced his attention off her and on to the figure in the next bed. Too much interest in Jules would just lead to suspicions they couldn't afford to raise. He smiled at Spike who was similarly ensconced in thick blankets. "Gave us quite a scare there, Buddy."

A hint of blush crept into Spike's otherwise pale cheeks but the color was good for him. "I'd shake everyone's hand but that would mean taking them out from under the blankets, and that ain't happening. They've got that fresh from the dryer warmth."

"Not a problem." Sarge assured him. "I talked to your mom and let her know you were here…"

"But she can't leave my dad to come check on me. I know." Spike finished. He sounded fine with it but Sam could hear the hurt and disappointment in his friend's voice just the same. He thought about his own mother. Nothing, not wild horses, not an ocean, not reassurances from him that it wasn't necessary, would keep his mother away if she thought he was injured. Spike continued. "Dad has an appointment in the morning so I'm sure they'll swing by then. Doc said I should be able to go home so it'll all be good."

Spike shifted on the bed and grimaced as the move jarred his injured ankle. It wasn't fair that it was hurting worse now that he was in the hospital. After the worst of the pain eased, he looked at Greg. "Tell me you got Dublin."

"We got him and his whole crew." Sarge assured him.

Spike nodded and glanced over at Jules. "Bastard zapped her with a stun gun I don't know how many times. Got me once with it. I would have liked to have turned it on him a time or two but there wasn't much I could do." His expression turned even more somber. "Boss, I let you down. I'm sorry."

Greg put a hand on Spike's shoulder through the thick blankets. "Listen to be, Spike, and listen good. You didn't let me down in any way. You hear me? I'm proud of you and I'm proud of Jules. Damn proud of both of you just like I always am. You've done nothing to change that and nothing you have to apologize for."

Spike shook his head. "We were supposed to save Ashley. She was the civilian and we were supposed to protect her but we didn't. Dublin captured us and ordered his brother to kill her. I couldn't stop him from hurting Jules and I couldn't stop him from killing Ashley."

"Ashley is fine, Spike," Greg assured him. It hadn't even crossed his mind that Spike hadn't known she'd survived. "Ronnie couldn't kill her. He left her in a closet upstairs and pretended to do what his brother wanted. She's fine. We sent her to St. James and her father is with her now. He's going to make sure she gets the help she needs."

Spike's relief was palatable. Then his eyes settled on Sam. "Things on the road are a bit fuzzy in my head. I don't know what was real or what was tricks my mind played. Did I hit you?"

"Don't worry about it," Sam was as quick to try to assuage the guilt Spike might be feeling as Greg had been to assure him that Ashley was okay. "Hell, I probably deserved it and worse for the hell I had to put the team through when I was filling in for Ed. Consider it payback."

Spike didn't seem as sure but nodded. He seemed about to say something more but a huge yawn interrupted him. Greg looked knowingly at the others and then back at Spike. "We promised the doctors we wouldn't stay long. You need to rest. If you or Jules need anything tonight, call me. I can be here in a hurry."

Sam frowned, knowing Greg was about to usher them out. He didn't want to go; now that Jules was safe, he didn't want to leave her side. He wanted to be there when she woke up. But what could he do? He couldn't leave with the others and sneak back to sit with her after he changed and officially signed out. He would never be able to justify his presence, not with Spike right in the next bed. Would she understand if she woke up and he wasn't there?

Sure enough, Greg urged them toward the door. Sam cast one more look toward Jules who hadn't reacted at all to their presence. His heart was heavy as he followed everyone out.

"Sam?" Spike's voice stopped him and the others before they could leave the room. He turned back toward his friend.

"Yeah, Spike?"

"Hospital food really sucks a big one. You think once you get off you could swing back by here? Maybe bring me a burger or something real to eat? Maybe even raid my locker for clothes for me to wear home tomorrow? Don't think I want to go home in this drafty gown."

And just like that was a ready made excuse for him to come back, maybe catch Jules for a moment or two once she woke up. If not, at least he could be there for his friend. He smiled. "Sure, I'll be glad to."