Inner Recesses of the Mind

SRU Barn – Briefing Room – 7:00 a.m.

Jules entered the room and her eyes landed on the chair the rookie sat in five days ago. He didn't have a regular chair like the rest of them. Sam chose a different seat almost daily. Although subconsciously noting the occurrence, she never considered its implications until this morning when the significance of his actions revealed itself. Jules sighed as her profiler mind pondered the reason.

Taking her place, she eyed the open seats. One beside Wordy, one next to Spike, four at the back, and the last right beside her. She realized he selected the ones in the back away from them for the last week, almost as if he were distancing himself from them … more likely they pushed him away, making him feel unwanted.

She sighed again watching the other five members of Team One enter. None of them appeared any happier than her to return given the news they received last night. She had not slept well, plagued with disturbing thoughts.

Holleran's words, telling them were strangers to Sam hit her hard because truthfully they were and he to them. None of them attempted to extend a true hand of friendship. One might think Spike had, but his questions for Sam always centered around Sam's time in Kandahar, a morbid fascination of sorts. It was clear Sam didn't wish to focus on his JTF2 time with the way he used deflection to avoid answering Spike.

Greg yawned as he strolled to the front. He sat and stared at the folder on the table as he said, "Nothing new to share, no warrants on tap, so today will be a patrol day. Ed and Wordy. Spike and Lou. Jules and Sam. And I'll stay here to catch up on paperwork."

"Boss?" Jules stared at Greg along with the rest of the guys.

Lifting his head, Greg peered at Jules. "Yes?"

"Um … you partnered me with Sam … he's not here."

Greg released a groan as his shoulders slumped. "Sorry, guess I'm more tired than I thought."

"S'okay. I didn't sleep much either. I'll stay here and check Sam's Remi. Clean it and make sure it was not damaged in the fall. Want to have his weapon in tiptop condition when he returns." Jules decided not to include 'if' in her thoughts. Staying positive would be the only way forward for her. Sam would return … he would. She just didn't know how long it would take for him to recover.

Nodding, Greg gave her a slight smile. He could always count on Jules … she was the heart of this team. Somehow things will work out and we'll set things to right with Sam.

They all dispersed without any comments, each probing the inner recesses of their minds, exploring the hole created by their missing teammate.

Gartner Office Complex

Thoughts of a slow day patrolling were dashed within forty minutes when a shots-fired hot call came in. The team again converged from multiple directions as Winnie provided them the details gleaned from the 911 caller. A disgruntled former employee fired for ongoing disruptive behavior and disrespect of her coworkers snapped and returned armed with a handgun.

Hopping out, Ed scanned the area searching for Sierra positions as Jules went to interview those who escaped and Spike headed to the command truck to begin searching for background details on their subject to assist in the negotiation. He directed the remaining team members, "Wordy, Lou, cover Boss. Sam, Sierra Two, the south building roof should provide the best vantage."

"Eddie." Wordy stopped next to him with a shield.

"What?" Ed's eyes turned to his friend.

"Sam's not here, buddy."

Ed blew out a breath as he pinched his brow.

Wordy patted Ed's arm. "Seems strange we forgot him when we automatically include him now."

"Yeah. Twists the knife a bit doesn't it?" Ed glanced over at Jules as Wordy nodded and trotted after Lou and Greg.

"Jules, you're two when you finish with the witnesses." Ed slung his rifle bag over his shoulder and jogged towards the east building. His guilt eating at him. Somehow, some way I'll make it up to Sam.

Toronto General – Nurses' Station

Audrey approached the nurses' desk and smiled at Sam's nurse. "Good Morning, Reba. How's my boy doing?"

"He had a restful night, according to Brenda. Dr. Sawyer is in with him now, so you might want to wait a moment before going in." Reba shifted her gaze to the gentleman who stood a little behind and off to the side of Sam's mother. "May I help you, sir?"

"No, I'm here with Mrs. Braddock."

Audrey offered, "This is Dr. Ferguson. He is to be allowed unrestricted access to Sam."

"Ah, Mrs. Braddock, you are looking a bit more rested today." Sawyer halted at the station.

"Morning, Dr. Sawyer. Yes, I am … Sam insisted I go to the hotel last night."

"So he told me. If you would like to join me in the conference room, I can update you on Sam's status in private." He waved his hand and allowed her to go forward, a little surprised when the man followed, but since she appeared to accept him, he didn't comment.

Toronto General – Private Conference Room

After the door closed, Audrey made introductions. "Dr. Trenton Sawyer, this is Dr. Obidiah Ferguson, Sam's psychologist. You may speak freely on Sam's condition in front of him."

The men shook hands and then all three took seats and Sawyer began his morning report to his patient's mother. "Sam's prognosis is positive. The swelling in his left hand has reduced significantly. The occupational therapist will be up this afternoon to give him some exercises to help him maintain dexterity without causing any damage as it heals. It should be a one time visit unless Sam experiences issues. I will make a referral to an outpatient OT if necessary.

"As for his leg, a physical therapist will also be visiting him today. Our goal is to get him up and mobile. However, he will be restricted to short distances and must use a walker in the beginning to avoid potential fall issues."

Audrey sighed. "He's not going to like using one of those. He can be as stubborn as his father, but I'll make sure he follows the rules."

Sawyer chuckled, having dealt with General Braddock the first few days he fully comprehended her statement. "He will require several weeks of outpatient therapy to regain full use of his leg. I can offer referrals of PTs for both here and Ottawa. I've switched him to oral medications. If he tolerates them well, and they control his pain effectively, we will remove the IV before his therapy session.

He directed his next comments to the psychologist. "Assuming no issues arise with the transition to oral meds, there will be no physical medical reason for keeping him in the hospital. I plan to discharge him tomorrow afternoon unless you believe it is in his best interest to remain in a controlled environment."

Ferguson listened and considered the situation. "I want to meet with Sam first to assess his emotional state. He suffered a significant loss recently under untenable circumstances … and well, it is best if I speak with him to determine if that is a factor or if his cognitive impairment is solely related to the excessive heat stress. If you don't mind, I would like to spend time with him today and tomorrow before providing you an answer."

"Works for me." Turning his attention to Sam's mom, he asked, "Have you determined if Sam will be staying in Toronto or going to Ottawa?"

"Still undecided." A concern she had failed to recognize until now came to mind. "And part of the reason is … well, this is embarrassing, but I don't know where Sam is living. When he moved here, he planned to stay in a hotel until he found a place to rent, so he left his address as ours on all his paperwork with SRU … only wanted to change it once. We've all been so busy we didn't have a chance to talk since he started working, so I don't know what hotel chose or if he rented an apartment."

Obidiah gave Audrey, his long-time friend, a reassuring pat on her arm. "I believe it will be safe to broach that subject today. And if he doesn't recall, I'm quite sure there is a certain general who has tools at his disposal to determine where Sam's staying. As far as here or Ottawa, that is also something I would like to hold off deciding until I speak to Sam."

Audrey smiled. "Thank you both for your excellent care. I appreciate it more than I can express."

Toronto General – Room 513

Sam flicked through the channels, finding nothing to interest him, so he finally turned off the TV. He stared at the three bland walls surrounding him, bored and frustrated. He tried to figure things out on his own but came up as blank as the walls of his room. He attempted to wheedle info out of Reba, but she only politely declined to tell him why he was in Toronto rather than Ottawa or how he came to be injured.

He turned to the doorway as his mom entered and grinned. "Morning, Mom."

"Good Morning, Sammy." Audrey ambled straight towards the bed wearing a smile and kissed him on the cheek. "I spoke with Dr. Sawyer just a moment ago. He gave me the news regarding releasing you tomorrow if all goes well."

"Yeah, I'm ready to blow this joint."

"I brought Dr. Ferguson with me today. He went to grab some coffee and will be in shortly. Wanted to ask if you want me to stay with you or leave."

Sam chuckled at his mother's overprotectiveness. "We've been through this, Mom. I'm a big boy. I can manage to talk to the shrink on my own."

Audrey nodded. "Sometimes, it is hard for a mother to let go. I should be used to it … and yes, you are a capable man. I didn't mean to imply you aren't."

Sam clasped her hand. "It's okay, Mom. To be honest, I'm glad you're here. This is all a bit disconcerting. I don't even remember why I'm in Toronto."

"Well, hopefully, the psychologist can help with that."

The door opened again, and Obidiah strode in carrying two hot coffees and an iced capp. "Hello, Sam, I'm Dr. Ferguson, and as I recall from our previous sessions, you prefer iced capps." He handed out the beverages before turning to Audrey. "Will you be staying?"

"No. My boy is all grown up and doesn't need me hovering. I'm going to do a little shopping, and I'll be back later this afternoon." She kissed Sam's cheek again and headed out.

Sam took a sip as the doctor moved a chair so they would be face to face. "My mom says I worked with you before."

"Yes. Do you recall anything about our time together?"

"No."

Obidiah nodded. "We can proceed in one of two ways. One, we start from scratch, and you open up when and if you feel you can trust me. Two, I can share a few things with you which I learned from our prior sessions and perhaps speed things along or jog your memories. The choice is yours."

"Option two. Anything to help fill in the blanks."

"Alright. You started coming to me in early April because you were having difficulty with the remorse you carry for being the one to fire the fatal shot which killed your best friend, Ben Matte. In addition to talking about the incident and results of the investigation, which by the way, I have full clearance to discuss, and I read the after action reports, we delved into the loss of your sister and how it impacted your childhood and your relationship with your parents and sister Natalie."

Sam blinked. "Wow … didn't think I was such a blabbermouth."

A chuckle emitted from Obidiah. "No, you aren't, Sam. To be frank, it took all of April, and most of May before you opened up to any degree with me. We met three times a week in that period. An intense program, but eventually, I believe I earned your trust, and I hope to maintain your confidence. Whatever you share remains with me."

"Okay …" Sam tried to recall talking to this man, but couldn't and blew out a frustrated breath. "Will you tell me why I'm in Toronto? It might jog something, and I think I might go crazy if I stay in the dark much longer."

Considering his words carefully, Obidiah said, "You wanted a change. You needed one. An opportunity was presented to you, and you agreed. In fact, you looked forward to the fresh start. You believed Ben would've supported your decision if he had not been the one you shot. Does that make sense to you?"

Sam chewed on his lower lip. "Some. Ben always had my back. So yeah … if I killed someone else in the unit, he would've supported me making a change." A flicker of something came to Sam, and his expression morphed into a questioning one. "Did I leave the military?"

"What makes you ask?"

Raking his right hand through his hair, Sam's eyes moved to the ceiling. "Not sure. But I don't know … something tells me I wouldn't be too popular with my unit afterward. Most of them were okay but a vocal few never like me, believe I got into JTF2 via family connections. Boy, they had no idea how hard I worked."

"True. We discussed that at length. Your desire to prove your worth after Sara died."

Sam's gaze returned to the doctor. "So did I exit the service?"

Hoping to spark more inklings in Sam's mind, Ferguson nodded. "Yes. You were offered an early honorable discharge given the circumstances."

"And I came to Toronto for a job?"

"Yes." He decided to answer honestly because he needed to broach the topic of Audrey's concern.

"And?" Sam eyed him waiting for him to expound.

"Anything come to mind?"

Sam took another sip of his iced coffee, willing himself to pull something from the inner recesses of his mind. "Sexy sniper chick."

"What?"

Shaking his head, a lopsided grin appeared. "Don't know … just popped into my head. Weird, huh?"

"A bit," Obidoah replied with a grin of his own. He had been supplied a brief report of Team One members and their photos, and Jules Callaghan might very well be described as sexy, and she was certainly a well-trained sniper.

"I got nothing. No idea." Another heavy exhale escaped Sam. "Why is this so hard? How did I lose my memory … and only four months?"

"The mind's inner workings are still a mystery. We're only in the infancy of our understanding, but excessive heat was a factor."

Sam's intelligence asserted itself. "Hey, if I moved here for a job, I must have a place to live here too. I wouldn't commute four hours each way from Ottawa … that would be ridiculous. I'm being released tomorrow. Perhaps if I return home, something will click."

"Do you recall where you live?"

Sam's eyes closed and he sighed. "No." Reopening them, he grinned. "But Mom should know."

"She doesn't."

"What?"

"Your mother indicated you planned to stay in a hotel until you rented a place, but the two of you didn't talk during the time you were here. She said your schedules were busy and conflicted. You never communicated which hotel or if you found a permanent residence."

"Well, that sucks. How the hell am I suppose to go home if I don't even know where it is?" Sam remained quiet for several minutes before turning bright blue eyes on Ferguson. "Credit card. If I contact them, they could tell me where I used my card, and I can find out that way."

"Excellent idea." This young man's ability to work a problem and find a solution still amazed Obidiah.

"Now I just need my wallet to find the number on the back of the card." Sam took another drink.

"I believe your mom has your wallet. This is something you can do this afternoon." Ferguson then steered the conversation in another direction to assess Sam's full mental state, to determine if his mind was still in the same dark place it had been when they started meeting in April.

Fuzzy Mind Bar and Grill

Arriving a little before one, Steve scanned the interior of the bar for several old friends he agreed to meet for lunch. Not finding them, but early, he headed to the back to snag a four-top table for them. On his way, he spotted a familiar face. "Hey, Sarge. What ya doing here?"

Peter turned his head and grinned. "Steve? The better question is, what are you doing in Toronto?"

"Well, I'm between tours and visiting the folks and a few friends. And you?"

"Moved here a few months ago. Got a job … not one I want, but it is paying the bills for the moment." Peter downed a swig of his bitter ale.

"What happened to you was wrong. So wrong."

"Water under the bridge. Can't fight the system when it is stacked against us nobodies." Peter took another drink.

"Yeah, might be right. The privileged always land on their feet. Did you hear Braddock got an honorable discharge?"

"Yep." Another swallow of beer slid down Peter's throat.

"An old buddy of mine asked me to help him with prepping for a warrant call. You remember me telling you about Ed Lane, who works for SRU?"

"I do. I thought about applying with them, but well, with the incident, I'm unlikely to be selected." Peter drained the last of his beer.

"I'm not too sure about that. Might be an opening soon."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Braddock is on Ed's team. Surprised me to see him with the city's elite team. I warned Ed to watch his back. Not sure how Braddock swung getting that position. He certainly doesn't deserve it. Should've received a BCD for killing Matte."

Peter's brow arched. "Yeah, he should've, but then again he's General Badass' son, so what do you expect? Us peon's get the shaft, and prime positions are handed to him on a silver platter."

Noting his high school buddies entering, Steve said, "Hey, you want to join me for lunch?"

"No, gotta go to work. Shift starts at two. Give me a call sometime. We'll grab a drink."

"Yeah, sure." Steve wandered off to greet his friends.

Peter Clarkson slid out of his booth, tossed money on the table to cover his meal and beer, and strode out of the pub. His mind chewing on the fact Braddock ended up in Toronto too. The embers of anger stirred and stoked the fires of his hatred for the man who ruined his life and killed Matte.

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AN: Evil muse is humming the theme to Jaws.