Aftermath of the Storm

AN: Usually put my notes at the bottom, but to the Guest reviewer ... as noted previously, this story is not part of the BOL universe. It is a completely different take on Sam's backstory ... so, I gave his parents different names to make it clear it wasn't in the same series as BOL.

Toronto General – ER Waiting Room

Jules approached Dr. Ferguson, who sat in a chair with a red-stained, damp cloth dangling from his fingertips. His eyes never left the doors into the treatment area, and his expression was blank … and his face somewhat pale. She stopped on the fifth floor to retrieve the folder with the photos and note, intending to use returning them as the ice breaker.

Her lips forming a small O Jules exhaled then pursed her lips, preparing to disturb a man in deep thought. "Excuse me, Dr. Ferguson. I believe these belong to you."

Slow on the uptake, still in shock by the events. His mind processing watching a man's brains blown out in front of him … and Sam's actions … throwing himself on top of him to protect him. Unfocused eyes shifted upward as his fingers curled more tightly on the fabric he used to wipe Sam's blood off his face. "What?"

"The pictures … I took them from Sam's room. I needed to return them."

Obidiah's gaze shifted again to the hand holding out the manila folder. His gaze lingered, but he didn't reach for the file as flashes of Sam laying on the ground with the gun pressed to his skull came in unbidden. At that moment, Obidiah gained insight into the struggles many of his soldier patients dealt with daily. Events so horrible, which burned into his memory, would be difficult to put into a compartment ... but he must. He blew out a ragged breath and closed his eyes, wavering in his seat.

As the psychologist started to fall forward, Jules shouted, "A LITTLE HELP OVER HERE!" She caught him as he pitched forward, taking his weight and easing him to the ground and onto his back. Shock. He's in shock. She loosened his collar, and picked up his legs, positioning them on the chair he just vacated.

She crouched beside him and pressed her fingertips to his neck, noting a rapid pulse. As his eyes blinked open, Jules calmly said, "Rest. You passed out, but you're going to be alright."

Embarrassed, Obidiah tried to rise. "I'm fine."

Jules pressed her hand on his shoulder. "Help is coming. Please stay down. The events you witnessed are quite disturbing, and your reaction is normal."

"I should be able to handle this."

"Hmm … yeah, no. Theory is one thing … seeing something like that isn't normal … your body's reaction to the adrenaline crash is. Happens to the best of us. Is there anyone you would like me to contact, for you?"

Obidiah's hand reached out for hers, and he squeezed. "Thank you, but no, Officer Callaghan."

Jules nodded. "What about for Sam? I don't have his mother's or father's numbers, but if you want, I can look them up and tell them what happened."

"Again … thanks, but I'll take care of calling them as soon as I find out how Sam is doing. No need to worry Audrey excessively unless needed and no one needs Warren on the warpath."

As he finished a doctor and nurse rushed out from the back. Jules stood and backed out of the way as they assessed Ferguson. Within ten minutes he was back in the chair, a cup of cold apple juice in his hands and a cool rag on his neck. His coloring much better, and his pulse rate returned to normal.

Jules took a seat next to him. "If you don't mind, I would like to wait with you. I'm worried about Sam too." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs, clasping her hands, interlacing her fingers and setting her chin on her knuckles as she exhaled heavily again. "I still can't believe I forgot him at Brighton. I'm not sure what I was thinking … clearly I wasn't."

She turned her head, resting her cheek on her hands, making eye contact. "I'm so ashamed of myself. I would never knowingly hurt someone … especially not a teammate. It is no excuse, but the only thing I can think of is the excessive heat played a role. If I could go back and change my actions … I would."

Obidiah nodded and maintained her gaze. "I've read the after action report. Heat exposure and assumptions are my conclusions too. I don't believe any of you acted out of malice. An accident … one which could've been deadly, and certainly has some ramifications for Sam, but an accident nonetheless."

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, Jules chewed on the words for several moments. "Do you think Sam will get his memory back?"

"Issues with our minds and memories are always tricky. Though he did recall some things when I showed him pictures of your team … his team."

"Like what?"

Keeping his face neutral and his words too, Obidiah said, "Oh, words which probably equate to the impressions he formed of each of you."

Jules' face fell. "Probably called me a witch or worse. I drew my gun on him the first time we met. I wasn't very nice to him the second time either when Holleran brought him to our table at the retirement party and introduced him, telling us he would be on our team."

A grin formed on Obidiah's face. "You shouldn't assume."

Her face scrunched up. "Huh?"

"You were wrong when you assumed Sam went with your sergeant. You're wrong now too."

"Really?"

"Yes. Sam is a wonderful man who looks for the best in people … he usually finds it. His words … which I won't share, were all positive. After the thing on the roof, you're aware of why he left JTF2. Ben Matte was Sam's best friend. Being the one to fire the fatal shot tore him up. He's trying to rebuild his life … find a new purpose … make a difference. I believe he was making progress with SRU."

Her eyes moved to the folder. "So the note, it isn't a suicide note?"

Obidiah shook his head. "Sam read a book on how to cope with grief, and he was doing something it suggested to rid himself of negative thoughts. They weren't meant to be read by anyone."

"Good … cause, well, I don't want him to die. I want him to be alright physically and to rejoin the team." Tears sprouted in Jules' eyes, and she hastily wiped at them. "This is selfish, but I want another chance to show him he belongs, and who we really are … that he is a member of our team … family. I want to get to know him better. I want a chance to say yes the next time he asks me to grab a burrito and a beer after work." She chuckled. "I want to beat him in accuracy and speed on the gun range. He is an excellent sniper, and I could learn a lot from him."

"Sam pegged you right."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No. Patient confidentiality. But I will say … you might get what you want. Sam possess a kind heart, and he doesn't hold grudges. And he fully understands regret and remorse associated with accidents."

Jules nodded. "I'm sure he does given what happened with his friend."

A long silence stretched between them as they waited for word on Sam. Jules was grateful the doctor shared a little with her and didn't ask her to leave. She was about to offer to get him another beverage when a doctor exited the ER and strode towards Dr. Ferguson. They both rose and waited.

Dr. Sawyer halted and took a glance at the constable before returning his gaze to Ferguson. "Would you like to speak in private?"

"No. Here is fine. This is Constable Callaghan, one of the officers who saved Sam and me."

His brow rose, but Sawyer didn't add, one of the people General Braddock wanted to flay alive for forgetting his son. "Sam is stable. The bullet gouged his bicep and required a few sutures, but overall isn't going to cause him problems. We had to redo about half of his external stitches on his leg, but again, he is lucky. I don't believe further damage occurred.

"I will be keeping him overnight instead of releasing him as planned today. Mostly to ensure he is properly hydrated and medicated. Should we move him to a different room? I don't want to trigger any, well, bad memories."

Obidiah considered the option and said, "A new room might be beneficial. If possible, I would like to visit with him before he goes up, and I need the room number so I can communicate the change with Mrs. Braddock."

"Certainly. He is awake, though a little groggy … I upped his pain meds slightly. If you follow me, I'll take you back." Sawyer turned to the constable. "I'm afraid you won't be allowed back. Standing orders from General Braddock."

"I understand." Jules set a hand on Dr. Ferguson's arm. "Thank you for talking with me, and for allowing me to find out how Sam is doing."

Obidiah patted her hand. "Maintain hope things will sort themselves out. Don't sell Sam short."

"I won't." Jules stood still as the two men moved towards the doors. She puffed out a breath, causing her bangs to flutter. Pivoting, Jules spotted the file sitting on the chair. She picked it up, determining she would return it later.

SRU Barn – Briefing Room

Spike's knee bounced as he waited for Boss, Ed, and Jules to return. He, Lou, and Wordy remained quiet around the table for the last thirty minutes, each lost in their thoughts … replaying the events on the roof. Though he didn't see what happened, he heard everything. Wordy had described how Clarkson had Sam on his stomach with the pistol to his head, and he could readily imagine the scene.

Unable to remain silent any longer, Spike said, "This is so messed up. Geez, I asked Sam the first night I met him about how many Taliban he took out. And I didn't pick up on his deflection. I only thought he had a sense of humor. But now, finding out he accidentally killed his best friend while sniping targets … I feel like crap."

Wordy shook his head. "Don't beat yourself up over something you didn't know … couldn't know."

Lou slumped in his chair. "I can't imagine how Sam must feel." His gaze turned to Spike. "If I shot you … even if you didn't die … God, I could never forgive myself. I'm surprised Sam is even sane."

"Guys, stop. Please." Wordy squeezed the water bottle in his hands a bit too tightly, and liquid surged out of the top. He scooted back before it could attack his cool pants. Rising, he intended to grab paper towels from the breakroom to clean up his mess but stopped as Jules, Ed, and Greg approached together. "How'd SIU go?"

Ed rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine. Ruled a good shoot." He peered at Wordy. "Clean hands."

Nodding, Wordy resumed his seat and used his sleeve to wipe up the spilled water.

Greg took his place at the front of the table and scanned his team. "You did well today under very difficult circumstances. You maintain professionalism in the face of something quite personal." A flash of Sam on the ground running through his mind caused Greg to close his eyes and breath to center himself. Re-opening, he continued, "Though we desired a different outcome, Mr. Clarkson gave us no alternative.

"I've spoken to Holleran, and after we debrief, we're off shift. He wants us to speak with Dr. Luria as well."

"Why?" Ed asked. "I don't need to talk to her. Clarkson was going to kill Sam, and I took the shot. Clear cut. Nothing I'm going to lose sleep over."

"Eddie." Greg sighed and sat. "This isn't about neutralizing a subject. It is about the whole situation. Our actions put Sam in a vulnerable position, and he wasn't able to defend himself against a threat. And it put an innocent man, Dr. Ferguson in the cross-hairs too. Sam almost died today … because we forgot him."

Ed stood and paced. "No. No. Today isn't on us. Yeah, Sam was hurt. And yes, defending himself was difficult, but Clarkson is the one to blame. If not today, he could've caught Sam unaware on another day."

Spike pipped in, "What about your friend Steve?"

"Not a friend anymore."

"But he recommended Clarkson. I heard him at the bar. I wonder how Clarkson found out Sam was in the hospital. I mean, maintenance guys don't have access to patient records," Lou countered.

Greg put up a hand. "None of this is helpful conjecture. One reason Dr. Luria will be meeting with each of you in the next two days. We may never find out how Clarkson discovered Sam was a patient, but we do know he blamed him for both Matte's death and the loss of his military career."

"Wish we knew how Sam was doing," Wordy said.

"Jules, … were you able to find out?" Greg asked.

"Yes. Dr. Ferguson allowed me to remain with him after he passed out." At their confused expressions, Jules related her conversation with the psychologist and Dr. Swayer's prognosis.

"Are those the photos?" Spike reached for the folder.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, I'm wondering if Sam needs protection from any other lunatics. Steve appears to blame him just like Clarkson for Ben's death. I think I should try to identify the unknown men and ensure they aren't targeting Sam also." Spike began flipping through the snapshots and stopped on Steve's when another thought popped into his head. He picked it up and showed it to Ed. "Like Steve … he might blame Sam for Clarkson's death now too. He might seek revenge."

Ed shook his head. "Steve can be a jerk … but I don't think he would target Sam because Clarkson died while trying to murder Sam."

Jules arched her brows. "He might if he's been drinking. We all saw the change in the man at the bar. He was not thinking and was out of control while inebriated."

"She's right," Lou input.

Greg again put a stop to them. "Holleran will be briefing General Braddock on the situation. I assume he will make necessary inquiries into any other potential threats to his son after learning of Clarkson's involvement."

"Don't assume. That's what put us in this position in the first place and nearly killed Sam," Jules declared.

"Right. I'll ask Holleran to include your thoughts in his conversation with the general and put a bug in Inspector Stainton's ear also since he will be taking Sam's statement tomorrow." Greg opened the transcript. "Let's start the review."

Toronto General – Room 608

Sam continued to stare out the window. His gaze had not moved for the last three hours, and he had not spoken a word to Dr. Ferguson or his mother. He didn't want to talk … or think … or feel. Yes, Ben's death still haunted him, and his ordeal this morning wasn't great, but what bothered Sam most is he now recalled everything from his missing months.

He remembered the last hot call ... the cramped spacing of the ductwork, which felt like an oven, slowly roasting him. His abject failure to stay hydrated and recognize signs of heat exhaustion. His stupid move dislodging a partition covering an old vertical shaft, and then falling down the chute. The most embarrassing part … admitting to Sarge, he got himself stuck in a vent. Apparently, he blacked out after that because he didn't recollect his rescue ... only waking up in the hospital with preventable injuries.

No wonder his mind blocked out his memories … he made a real ass of himself again. The first time he screwed up was when he talked to Jules, said a lady sniper was kinda sexy and told her he carried a pearl-handled Colt. He was lucky she didn't shoot him when he reached into his pocket ... dumbass move on his part.

Next, on his very first day with Team One, he sends the donor heart inside, and Wordy took one in the vest. Then the fiasco with the drug dealer warrant … where a kid died. He further displayed his ineptness when he swam out to put the listening device on the boat. He heard Ed … yeah, not a swimmer.

Then the whole negotiation practice scenario where he couldn't get it right and lost his cool, yelling at Lou he wouldn't give him coke. And later the same day, questioning Sarge about negotiation like he was some expert. Well, he knew what an expert was … at least the definition his father used. An ex is a has been, and a spurt is a drip under pressure. Maybe he was an expert based on that definition ... a has been who fails under pressure. It had been humiliating when Ed told him Boss wrote the manual he was quoting.

Damn, he needed to learn to listen better and quit screwing up.

"Sam, are you hungry? I'll bring you anything you want to eat for lunch." Audrey shared a glance with Obidiah, worried sick by Sam's lack of response. She canceled their flight and booked her hotel for another week, on the off chance he might need to stay longer than Dr. Sawyer initially predicted.

Obidiah stood. "Sam, we're going to go down to the cafeteria and give you a little space."

Audrey whispered, "Is that safe?"

Sam overheard but didn't reply.

"Yes, Audrey. As I told you, Sam isn't suicidal … he only needs time to think." Ferguson held out his hand to Audrey.

Or not to think. Sam heard their steps approaching the door, and surprised himself as he said, "I want to talk to my team."

Audrey's eyes rounded as she looked from Obidiah to Sam and back to Obidiah.

"Alright. When?" Obidiah asked as Audrey gave him the evil-eye, clearly unhappy with him agreeing.

"Today … after they're off shift."

"Okay. I'll make the request." He ushered Audrey out of the room and shut the door before she could say anything. He would explain to her that moving forward needed to be on Sam's terms. And the fact he used 'my team,' boded well. He wasn't sure if Sam recalled them or it was Clarkson's words, but whatever it was, Sam needed to be the one to make decisions which affected him … he needed to be the one in control regardless of how much Audrey and Warren wanted to protect him.

Sam sighed and dropped his eyes to his lap. Greg, Ed, Wordy, Lou, Spike, and Jules. He owed his life to them … to Ed's Scorpio shot. Clarkson would've killed him and Dr. Ferguson if not for all of them doing their utmost best to try to resolve the situation peacefully. Sadly, Peter was beyond their help or reason … another causality of the bullet that killed Ben.

Pain ripped through his heart, and silent tears trickled down his cheeks, unchecked. Will they want me as a teammate now that they know the truth about me?

.

AN: I think there is another chapter or two to go before this story wraps up. I do enjoy reading your reviews. Thanks to those that take a few moments to tell me what you thought of the chapter.