Summary: Sam sacrifices himself for a teammate and suffers the consequences.
Content Warnings: mentions of guns and kidnapping; graphic description of serious injury; mentions and descriptions of medical procedures and hospitals. Continue reading at your own discretion.
I don't own flashpoint or any of its characters.
Spike hovered over his fallen teammate, fear moistening his eyes to the brim as his hands hesitated over his comrade's wounds, not knowing where it was safe to touch. Not knowing where he was needed most.
"Spike, status!" The voice repeated in his ear, urgent and persistent. Spike was vaguely aware that this wasn't the first time Ed has demanded an answer from him, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. His ears were ringing with the sound of Sam's scream as he'd hit the ground.
"Officer down!" Spike finally managed to eke out, instincts returning and allowing him to focus on what needed to be done. He quickly placed a firm hand on the bullet wound to Sam's side, trying to ignore the pained grunt it elicited from his semi-conscious friend. "I repeat, officer down! Sam needs medical immediately!"
Sam hated forests.
He hated how impossible it was to be stealthy. He hated the constant humidity which made his already uncomfortable uniform stick tightly to his torso with sweat. He hated that no matter how much bug spray he applied, he always walked out with a hundred mosquito bites. It was a miracle that he'd never once contracted Zika.
So on this particular hot call, Sam was not amused.
"Alright team, the subject has a young girl with him and is not happy to see us," Ed reminded through the earpiece. "Stay with your partner and keep a look out for anything. Footprints, disturbed grass, any evidence of where he might have gone."
"Copy that," Sam muttered, as other teammates did the same. The team had split off in pairs, Sam and Spike taking east, Raf and Jules north, Ed and Wordy west, while Greg stayed back to interview witnesses and gather information.
As uncomfortable as he was, Sam couldn't argue the beauty of the landscape. The sun was just peeking through the trees, illuminating the vibrant green of the trees and shrubs. Birds were chirping as the sky awoke, little squirrels and other rodents skittering around the forest floor. The uneven terrain was full of rodent holes and was surrounded by 20 foot cliff-faces, some with a remarkably beautiful view.
Spike and Sam walked through the forest, guns ready in case they ran into anything or anyone, listening as Greg gathered intel. As more information came into light, the more uneasy Sam felt about the whole situation. The girl with him was supposedly abducted, yet there was no sign of forced entry into the house. No one witnessed any signs of struggle except for the scene he'd made dragging her into the woods at gunpoint.
"No forced entry, no known motive, and this guy just drags her into the woods at gunpoint, for what?" Sam queried, not liking where this situation was headed.
And then he saw validation for his fears, and he didn't even think before he jumped in front of Spike.
He saw the red dot illuminate the center of his teammate's chest, and he instinctively acted, thrusting Spike away from the line of fire right as the gun deployed.
He didn't count on the shooter to unload multiple rounds into him, the momentum of the bullets keeping him upright. As though in slow motion, his body jerked as bullet after bullet slammed into his armor, knocking him backwards, far enough that he plummeted the 20 feet to the rocky bottom of the cliff-face Spike and Sam had unfortunately been following.
At least it was a nice view.
Spike didn't like heights. He faced his own mortality every day at his job, and could stare down the barrel of a gun without losing his lunch, but when it came to heights, he left it to daredevils like Sam and Raf, who enjoyed showing off their fearlessness and overload of testosterone.
But now Sam was lying at the bottom of a cliff, body splayed in a way that couldn't have been comfortable, bleeding out all over the rocks, and Spike needed to be there, despite his own hang-ups.
As quickly as they began, the bullets ceased. A pregnant silence filled the area as Spike desperately clamored down the part of the hill that was the least steep, grasping jutted rocks and roots to reach his teammate, scared of what he might find.
When he arrived at Sam's side, his breath choked in his chest. Sam's chest was covered in blood from bullets that had managed to pierce his kevlar. His left leg was angled in such a way that Spike knew it had to be broken. Moreover, the right side of Sam's face was flooded with crimson from a deep gash along his hairline. He was a mess.
Spike hovered over his fallen teammate, fear moistening his eyes to the brim as his hands hesitated over his comrade's wounds, not knowing where it was safe to touch. Not knowing where he was needed most.
"Spike, status!" The voice repeated in his ear, urgent and persistent. Spike was vaguely aware that this wasn't the first time Ed has demanded an answer from him, but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. His ears were ringing with the sound of gunfire and Sam's scream as he'd hit the ground.
"Officer down!" Spike finally managed to eke out, instincts returning and allowing him to focus on what needed to be done. He quickly placed a firm hand on a bullet wound to Sam's side, trying to ignore the pained grunt it elicited from his semi-conscious friend. "I repeat, officer down! Sam needs medical immediately!"
"Tell us what happened, Spike," Greg ordered, concern evident in his voice.
"Subject was waiting for us, boss," Spike replied. "It was a trap. He unloaded several rounds into Sam's vest and it knocked him off a cliff."
"Are you with him now?"
"Yeah," Spike breathed. "Some bullets must have gotten past the vest because he's covered in blood. I can see two bullet wounds clearly, one in the right side and one to the right shoulder. There's got to be more under the vest. Also a head wound, possible concussion, and possible broken left leg." Spike hesitated before continuing. "The bullets were meant for me. He pushed me out of the way. It was supposed to be me."
"Spike," Ed warned. "We gotta stay objective, buddy. Keep pressure on his wounds and monitor his status. We're on our way. Any more activity from the subject?"
"No more gunshots. Haven't seen or heard him. He could be anywhere."
"Hold tight, then. We're minutes away."
As if on cue, Sam's eyes fluttered, dazed blue orbs lazily perusing the sky above before landing on his worried teammate.
"Hey, buddy, you with me?" Spike urged as Sam blinked in confusion.
"What-" Sam managed before erupting into coughs, gasping in pain at the strain on his injuries.
"Shh, shh, save your strength, Sam." Spike soothed.
Sam shuddered as a wave of pain ran through him, gasping pathetically at the pain it caused. Spike winced in sympathy before blurting, "why would you do that?"
Sam stared in shock at Spike's sudden anger. "Why would you do something so goddamn stupid, Sam?"
"I-"
"How am I supposed to sleep tonight?" Spike continued, face crumpling in fury and fear. "How am I supposed to sleep knowing that you're fighting for your life and it should have been me?"
Spike went home that night without a scratch on him. Sam was airlifted to the nearest hospital and underwent surgery immediately for his internal injuries.
Spike didn't sleep that night.
Even when they got the news that Sam was out of surgery and was going to make a full recovery. Even when Greg sent him home, promising to call if anything changed.
He couldn't. Because he couldn't get the noises out of his head.
The abrupt gunfire, shot after shot going directly into Sam.
(Who was right where Spike was. Because the bullets were meant for him.)
The scream as Sam fell 20 feet to the terrain below.
(Where Spike should have been.)
The sickening thud of Sam's body hitting the ground.
(It should have been me.)
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the blood. God, there was so much blood.
He saw Sam's pleading eyes, apologetic in a way they shouldn't have been.
When Spike is the only one who should have been apologizing.
(It should have been me.)
When Sam woke up, he immediately asked for Spike. Spike was more than happy to oblige.
At first, there were no words. Spike took in Sam's sickly form, dark rings around his eyes sticking out among the paleness of his cheeks. It occurred to Spike that he probably didn't look much better himself.
Wires and bandages hidden under blankets, more than Spike could ever imagine enduring, brought him back to the present. Sam gave a pathetic grin, shifting his nasal cannula in the slightest. "Did we get him?"
"Yeah," Spike replied, "we got him. Turns out he's just another guy with a vendetta against cops."
Sam nodded, swallowing thickly. A moment passed before he finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry."
Spike paused, caught off guard by his teammate's apology. "Sam. What in gods green earth are you to be sorry for?"
Sam blinked tiredly before continuing. "What you said in the forest...I didn't mean to put you in a position where you..." Sam trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I had to protect you, Spike. There was no other option. I can't lose anyone else."
"And I can't lose anyone else either Sam." Spike retorted. "I'm sorry I lost it out there, I shouldn't have gotten angry but...since Lou...I don't need people deciding their lives are less important than mine. I can't have anyone else's life on my conscience, Sam."
"It was an instinct," Sam replied. "I didn't have time to weigh my options. I saw you in danger and I just...acted." Sam shifted his gaze. "I don't have a death wish, Spike, but I know that if I hadn't taken those bullets for you, I wouldn't have been able to sleep at night. I'm sorry that that burden is now on you...but I'm okay. Or I will be. And I guess all I can do is pray that sleep comes easy."
Spike was silent for several moments before slowly approaching the bed which carried his injured teammate, gently pulling him into an embrace as silent tears fell down his face. "I'm so glad you're okay."
"Me too," Sam said, ignoring the ache in his chest and wrapping his arms around his friend.
Jules came by a couple hours later to visit, with coffee and donuts in hand, only to find Sam and Spike both asleep, Sam with his head cocked to the side, and Spike sitting in the recliner next to the bed, curled into a little ball. Jules snapped a picture to send to the team group chat. They would not be living this down.
Hiiiiii I know this kinda sucks but I felt the need to write this. If you enjoyed, please leave a review! I love you guys, keep the peace! Xx