A Father's Fury and Love

Toronto General – Cafe

Team One sat around a table, each silent as they attempted to eat the snack they purchased, but none hungry enough to actually make more than a small dent in their choices. Ed had taken over, ushering them all to the café upon finding Greg lost in thought in the waiting room. They all wanted to know what the doctor said, but no one wanted to push Boss, so waited until he came out of his stupor.

Lifting his soda, Greg took a long drink of the cold beverage, snagging a piece of ice and allowing it to melt in his mouth. He scanned his team and released a sigh. "His injuries might end his career before he truly began."

"What exactly are we dealing with?" Ed asked.

"Well, if he wakes—"

"IF?" Spike's voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched and loud.

"Yes, if. Dr. Sawyer isn't calling Sam's state a coma … yet, but he has not woken up and extreme heat for an extended time can cause brain damage. Won't be able to discern that until he wakes, and also if he suffered nerve damage to his right leg and left hand."

"What about his hand … didn't see any cuts on it?" Wordy's gut churned, and he pushed away the rest of his sandwich which now felt like leaden blocks in his stomach.

"It was trapped by his body and the Remi … something they call a compression injury." Greg took another sip, chewed another ice chip, and lowered his gaze to the table. "Holleran has taken us off rotation until further notice. I can't tell you what will happen, but I take full responsibility."

"We're a team … this is on all us," Lou said as he fiddled with his cup.

"Are we allowed to visit him? Is his family here?" Jules pushed down her emotions, wanting the facts … willing to accept whatever discipline was meted out to her. Sam had been her partner today … and her written statement reflected her culpability.

"Yes. They were taking him up to the fifth floor. Didn't have a number yet though."

Ed snorted. "Wish it was any other floor."

Greg stood. "Not sure about family, Holleran said he would contact them. Let's go. We need to be there when he wakes to show him our support … to apologize for our actions."

The others rose, grabbing their half-eaten items and dumping them in the trash on the way to the elevators.

Toronto General – Fifth Floor Hallway

After stopping at the nurses' station to inquire about Sam's room number, five men and one woman solemnly made their way down the hall. They came to the corner leading to room five thirteen, a private room on the east side of the building. Ed and Greg leading the way, slowed when they spotted two armed soldiers guarding Sam's doorway, while Commander Holleran, a doctor, and another man in uniform gathered in the middle of the hallway talking.

Spike almost ran into the back of Ed when he didn't notice the slower pace. "Hey, come on … no time to drag your feet."

Lou's hand went to Spike's arm, pulling him back. "Holleran … and … others."

With some trepidation, Greg moved forward, recognizing Dr. Sawyer as he came to a halt a few steps from the three men. "Commander, Doctor, is Sam alright?"

Norman Holleran turned to find Team One gathered. He wanted to avoid this … he should've ordered them to stay away, but then he had not expected his old friend to show up so fast.

"Sergeant Parker, I was just informing Sam's father of his condition. No changes since we last spoke," Dr. Sawyer said. He turned his gaze to his patient's dad. "Sir, if you will excuse me now. I will be back to check on Sam in a couple of hours, and the nurses will alert me if any issues arise. Your son will be well taken care of … you have my word."

"Thank you, Sawyer." Warren Braddock shook the doctor's hand. He pivoted, and his expression morphed from concerned father with a tinge of gratitude for the medical staff to full-on fury as he peered at Sergeant Parker.

Norm could feel the anger rolling off Warren in waves. Ever the professional, he stated, "Warren, let me introduce you to Team One. Sergeant Greg Parker, Team Lead Ed Lane, Kevin Wordsworth, Lewis Young, Mike Scarlatti, and Jules Callaghan. Team, this is Sam's father, General Warren Braddock."

"Sam's dad is a general," Spike whispered as his eyes widened.

Jules' profiling skills popped forward, though in truth anyone with half-a-brain could tell they were viewing one very pissed off man. She assumed Holleran explained the situation, and General Braddock had just cause to be angry.

Stepping up as the rest of his team gaped at the intro, Greg said, "Sir, I wish to offer my sincerest apology—"

Warren interrupted, his voice hard and authoritative, yet he didn't yell, "You can keep your apology. You left my son … my only son … to die. You forgot him and went on your merry way without a single thought for his well-being. No soldier would ever be so careless with a teammate's life.

"Samuel served two nine-month tours in the hottest, most unforgiving environment, mission after dangerous mission in hostile territory with jihadists lurking in every shadow waiting to kill him. After eighteen months of honorable service in a Kandahar, he came home without a scratch … no holes in his body, no scars, a whole and hale young man.

"He comes to Toronto and joins the police, and within the span of three weeks, he is fighting for his life not due to some crazed criminal, but from the neglect of the very people who should be watching his six. Samuel might die, remain in a coma, and if he wakes, he might have brain damage, lose the use of his leg, and or his hand. Nothing you can say, nothing you can offer will ever … EVER … make up for your deeds today."

Waving a hand towards the soldiers, Warren said, "These men are here to protect my boy from the likes of you. They have been ordered to prevent you from entering his room. You will leave this hospital and not return. My wife is on her way, and I will not have Audrey subjected to you."

"But we want to see how he's doi…" Spike trailed off as the icy, blue eyes so like Sam's, pinned him. He gulped as fear rose unbidden. This was a man you didn't challenge unless you wanted to forfeit your life.

His gaze moving to each of the six before him, Warren allowed his 'badass' persona full reign. "By rights, I should have you all brought up on charges of criminal neglect and endangerment of an officer. Defy my wishes, and I may pursue that route. And so you are aware … should my boy die or be permanently impaired, I will seek justice to the fullest extent of the law against all parties responsible."

Warren, having said his peace, pivoted and strode into Sam's room without glancing backward, expecting as always, his commands to be followed without question.

Holleran sighed. "I suggest you leave. Warren is not a man who makes idle threats. I assume your written statements have been completed."

Everyone except Greg nodded, still in awe of the set down delivered from Sam's father.

Greg raked a hand over his face. "You'll have mine within the hour, sir."

Norm nodded and surveyed the SRU officers with disappointment expressed in his eyes. "Go home. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be soon enough to begin sorting this out."

"Sir?"

"Yes?" Norm's gaze landed on Wordy.

"Can you please inform us if Sam's condition changes?"

"If the general allows … it is not my decision to make."

"Understood." Wordy turned and started walking to the elevator with a heavy heart. He comprehended the general's position. As a dad himself, he would want to lash out at those who were to blame for his child being hurt … and possibly dying.

As Jules left, she headed for the stairwell, needing to hide the tears she couldn't hold back any longer. The general spoke the truth … and it hurt to realize how careless and callous she had been towards Sam. He survived a year and a half in Afghanistan … but would he survive now?

Lou and Spike both sighed, turned, and followed Wordy. Their shoulders slumped in mirror images. The weight of their actions … lack thereof … heavy on their backs. Guilt which might never go away … especially if the blond rookie died.

"Commander … I'm the one to be held responsible. As Team Leader, it is my job to ensure—"

"Eddie, stop. Now isn't the time. And this falls on me as Sergeant." Greg pivoted, tugging on Ed's sleeve to make him leave. The desire to drown in the bottom of a whiskey bottle strong as he strode away, but he must write his report and review the others' statements too.

Greg glanced up at Ed whose face had gone rock solid. "I need you to check on everyone tonight. Let them know I expect them at the barn by eight. We need to debrief … and figure out why we messed up so badly, so we can prevent this from happening to anyone else."

Norman watched until they disappeared around the corner. Only then did he allow his body to slump against the wall. The failure begins with me. I should've talked to Greg and not just sprung Sam on them. I failed not only Sam and every member of Team One, but my long-time friends Warren and Audrey too. They trusted me with their son … trusted me to create an environment where he could heal … and I didn't.

Toronto General – Room 513

Warren took halting steps towards the bed. Sammy appeared to be only sleeping … peacefully … unlike the last time he saw him. The nightmares terrorized Sam something fierce after the death of Benjamin Matte. He believed, at the time, Sam might not survive killing Ben though he had been cleared of any blame.

What stuck in Warren's craw at the moment was the similarity of Matte's death to Sam's situation. A series of errors, assumptions, and miscommunication caused the Master Corporal's demise. Sam and Ben, best buddies ever since high school, were due to leave the next day, having completed their second tour. But instead, they volunteered for the mission when two of Clarkson's men had been injured in the previous op.

Sergeant Clarkson, new to commanding a unit, had been careless. He didn't do a final headcount to ensure all seven of his men cleared out of the target zone before he gave the all clear to Sam. Assumptions could be deadly … and they were for Ben Matte.

Pushing those thoughts away, his fatherly concern reasserted itself and Warren moved to Sam's bedside. His eyes roved over his son's body, noting the IVs. One provided him fluid and antibiotics, and the second still finishing the blood transfusion. He wore a lightweight gown and his right arm sported multiple bandages. His left hand rested on a pillow. God, I hope he doesn't lose the use of his hand. It will crush him not to be able to fire. Warren sucked in a breath and exhaled gradually. "If that happens, we'll work together to develop your ability with the right."

His eyes moved to the white, thin blanket covering the lower half. The bulk of the dressing on his right thigh visible due to the slight lump. "I'm sorry, Samuel. I thought I was helping by facilitating your exit of CAF and entry into SRU. I always want the best for you. I understood you needed a break ... Ben's death was as hard on you as Sara's … maybe more so."

Returning his gaze to Sam's face, the stubble on his jaw made Warren think of the day Sammy left home to come to Toronto. One of the few times he and Sam didn't get into an argument while in the same location. Their relationship on a good day was complicated … had been from early on.

Samuel remained as headstrong as him but typically ended up toeing the line when push came to shove. Their 'golden boy' as Audrey liked to call their son, grew into an honorable man … courteous, honest, intelligent, handsome like his old man, and one 'badass' soldier in his own right.

His boy didn't deserve to be lying here because the so-called best SRU team forgot about him. Warren now wished he had not facilitated Samuel's early release from the military, although, at the time, Norman's suggestion had seemed like a suitable interim solution to Sam's mental state. His son needed a change, and Samuel's sniper skills and his tactical knowledge, coupled with his prior service with the police department, enabled his placement on the elite team with little trouble.

Warren still couldn't believe Samuel's brief stint of defiance when he was eighteen, after an all-out argument on attending the Royal Canadian Military College, resulted in Sam effectively running away from home and joining the Toronto police. If he hadn't, this option would've been closed to him, and he wouldn't be lying unconscious in this bed right now.

He whole-heartedly wished Ben had lived. Samuel would still be where he belonged. Master Corporal Matte had been a good influence on Sammy and kept him out of trouble more than once. He owed Ben for helping his son come to his senses, partially. Ben talked Sam into enlisting in the Army with him a year later. Sam quit the police department and although they went the enlisted route, as the two boys planned all through high school and eschewed becoming officers, at least Samuel was where he made a real difference.

Warren lay his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Son, if you can hear me … I'm here. Your mom is on the way. She is driving down from Ottawa with your aunt. It would be a comfort for her if you were awake when she arrives. You know how she worries."

Unable to resist showing the deep love he held for his boy, Warren leaned down and kissed his forehead. The splash of liquid on Sam's cheek informed Warren he was crying. "My son. My precious boy. Burying one child is more than enough. I don't think my heart can take saying goodbye to you too. So you fight with everything you have … you are a Braddock, and we don't give up ground without a battle."

Warren allowed his tears to fall silently as he remained close to his son, stroking his hair, cheek, arm, and hand … wishing Samuel to open his eyes and be alright.

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AN: Oooo two chapters in less than 24 hours ...

So, Daddy Braddock and Sammy have issues ... will come in handy for some tense/angsty moments, but ultimately he loves his son.

Hope you enjoyed a bit of Sam's backstory and how I handled the Matt/Ben continuity issue from the show. I kept the little sister's name Sara because I still like that name.

I know Sam's been absent as things happen around him, but next chapter he gets to wake up ... should be fun or so my evil muse is telling me.