Author's Notes: As Jules said in the last chapter, the danger has passed but things are far from over. She might be safe but she still has a lot to deal with. More JAM to come now that Jules and Sam have been reunited as well as moments with the rest of the team. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. I hope this chapter isn't too dry but I have to deal with physical injuries before we can really get to the emotional. Thanks to another snow day that didn't give me any snow, I was able to get this chapter ready early.

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.

Break Out

Chapter 11

"Sam?" Jules managed to speak his name finally after several more kisses. Her voice was husky and dry. She'd been allowed to swish water in her mouth just a little by one of the ER nurses when she first arrived, but hadn't been allowed to actually drink any yet.

Sam pulled away but couldn't fully release her. Instead, one hand cupped the side of her head so his thumb could caress her unbruised cheek. His other hand trailed down to gently graze his fingertips up and down her bare arm. His blue eyes were full of concern. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged and frowned. It was a loaded question and while she didn't want to lie, she wasn't quite ready to really tell the full truth either. So she settled for the ambiguous nonverbal answer. "What about you? Did SIU give you a hard time?"

He leaned forward to just briefly brush against her battered lips once more. "Don't overwork your voice right now; it sounds pretty ragged. SIU interviews are never the highlight of anyone's day but it's over now and I'm confident I'll be cleared of the shooting. They don't really have anything to hold against me."

Jules opened her mouth to ask him if they'd given him a hard time. The thumb that had been caressing her cheek moved over to her lips, evidently trying to silence her before she spoke. Sam sighed.

"Yeah, the fact that we are together came up and they wanted to make a big deal about it. I think no matter how many times we prove we can do our job in spite of our feelings for each other, it'll always come up. But I think it would no matter what. It's like you said after Toth raked us over the coals about our first relationship with each other. It's not going to go away. From the moment we crossed the line and acted on our feelings, everything we do is going to be suspect whether we're together or not. Trust me, if I'm going to be accused of letting my feelings get in the way, I'd much rather it be because we're together and allowed to express our love for each other than trying to deny that every beat of my heart belongs to you."

A single tear ran down Jules's cheek and her lower lip quivered slightly. Sam brushed the tear away. The hand that had been running up and down her arm traveled lower to rest on her upper thigh. Immediately, her face paled and she inhaled sharply. A muttered curse came out on the exhale along with a sharp groan. Sam removed his hand, horrified that he'd hurt her. He pulled the blanket aside and grimaced at the sight of the numerous pieces of metal embedded in her leg. The shrapnel appeared to range in size from the smallest sewing needle to about a 7mm screw. Blood, some dried and some fresh, stained the area around her pants leg. Now he swore.

"Damn it, Jules, what the hell is the doctor waiting for? Your leg looks like a freaking pin cushion." He stood up, his muscles taut with rage. It was clear he was about to hunt down the ER doctor to demand an explanation personally. Jules reached out and took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Relax, Sam. He's waiting on the x-rays."

Sam sat back down on the bed, a little more gingerly this time. Spike had mentioned x-rays but Sam had thought they were checking for broken bones or something. What did x-rays have to do with the shrapnel? "X-rays?"

She nodded. "He didn't want to take a chance pulling them out blindly without knowing if they had barbs on the end that would do more damage coming out than going in. I couldn't really argue with him."

Sam couldn't argue with the wisdom in that. Still, he hated the idea that Jules was being left to hurt needlessly. "Yeah, but Spike said they took you for x-rays over an hour ago. How long does it take to read a damn picture?"

Despite everything she'd gone through and the pain radiating through her with a force that threatened to send her into full sobs, Jules couldn't help but smile shakily. There was something reassuring and comforting about Sam in full out protective mode - not that she'd admit it out loud. "Sam, I might be the most important person in your world right now but I'm not the only patient in this hospital. I heard a nurse mention something about a multi-car pile-up that's got them pretty busy. Think of it this way, at least my injuries aren't considered serious enough to make me a priority. That's a good thing. Really. Yeah, it hurts but the pain's only really bad when I forget and try to move that leg."

"Or some idiot jars or puts pressure on it." Sam muttered, feeling guilty for his part in hurting her.

Jules shifted slightly, being careful not to move her leg. Then she reached up and placed the palm of her hand against his cheek. "You aren't an idiot. You didn't know."

He hated to keep making her talk; her voice sounded like she'd swallowed sandpaper, but there was so much he needed to know. "What other injuries do I not know about?"

Unconsciously he held his breath, waiting for her to answer. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, threatening to drown out anything she might have to say.

"Mostly bruises, I think. The doctor also took x-rays of my head and ribs so I'm not sure what that showed. Honestly Sam, I sort of tuned him out. It's not like I need a doctor to tell me that I hurt practically all over." She leaned back against the bed and closed her eyes for a moment. She could feel Sam watching her and opened her eyes again with a sigh. "Seriously, Sam, it's nothing that won't heal. Quit worrying."

Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. Now that he looked at her more closely, he could see fingerprint bruises on her jaw and around her neck. He wanted to gather her in his arms, hold her close, and then kiss away each and every bruise that marred her beautiful body. He wanted to, but still he refrained because he was more worried that he would hurt her worse if he did. "Like there's a chance in hell of that happening. Yeah, you'll heal and you're tough enough to handle the pain, but I'm not sure I can. It bothers me to see you hurting, bothers me to hear that rasp in your voice and not being able to do anything about it. Damn it, Jules, it looks and sounds like someone tried to strangle you."

"They did." Jules admitted softly, "well, sort of. However my voice sounds bad because my throat's dry. Try sucking on a roll of gauze for awhile and see if your mouth doesn't taste and feel like cotton." It was evident she was trying to make light of what had happened, but it wasn't easing his concern any.

"Want me to get you some water?" Sam would get her anything she wanted.

Jules shook her head. "As much as I would love about a gallon of water, I can't have any right now. I guess they can't risk me eating or drinking anything until they know what all is going on. I don't know."

Again Sam felt his jaw rock. Wasn't a trip to the hospital supposed to make things better? They'd done nothing about the shards in her leg; they were denying her the ability to quench her thirst after she'd been gagged; they hadn't told her the extent of her injuries. The only evidence he could see that they'd done anything for her besides putting her on oxygen was to bandage a couple of cuts. "This is ridiculous. You've been here for at least a couple of hours now; I don't care if the entire city has suddenly showed up with injuries, they don't have a right to just ignore you like this. I'm going to find out what the hell is going on."

Jules didn't try to protest as he started toward the curtain. She didn't have the energy on what would be a useless endeavor. To be honest, she was more than a little grateful that Sam was there to raise a fuss. She was hurting, even more than she'd wanted to let Sam know and she was tired of being in the ER. She was ready for something to be done so she could quit being in extreme pain. If Sam wanted to fight that battle for her, she'd allow him without saying a word.

Before Sam could reach the curtain, it opened and a doctor wearing scrubs and a lab coat stepped in. He smiled at Sam and held his hand out in greeting. "I'm Dr. Johnson, the ER doctor treating Constable Callaghan."

Sam shook the man's hand but his expression was far from friendly. "Sam Braddock. Wouldn't treating mean you're actually doing something for her? She's been here a couple of hours and other than a couple of Band-Aids, I'm not seeing where she's gotten any treatment. Are you planning on leaving those shards in her leg as a souvenir of what she's been through?"

Just as their job as SRU required them to sometimes deal with subjects at different volatile levels, Dr. Johnson apparently had similar experiences dealing with patients' families. And without having to be told, he'd obviously pegged Sam very much as family. "Of course not."

"So you're in here to take them out?"

Dr. Johnson shook his head. "No. After looking at the x-rays, I've decided it was better to call in a surgeon to remove the shards."

Sam took a couple of steps backward towards Jules's bed. His hand reached out and instinctively found Jules's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Surgeon?"

"Don't look so worried." The doctor was quick to reassure them. "I'm not suggesting that she needs surgery to have the shrapnel removed."

"Then why a surgeon?" The question itself was accusatory but it was delivered in an even tone; there was nothing to indicate that it was taking everything in him not to grab the doctor by his lab coat and show him exactly what he could do with his suggestion not to worry.

"Sam, calm down." Leave it to Jules to be able to recognize his emotions even if he'd thought he'd carefully hidden how he felt. "He mentioned earlier that it might be a possibility if there were barbs on the ends of the shrapnel."

Just as Jules could read him, he could just as easily read her. She hid it well, probably better than he'd hid his feelings, but he heard the slight quaver in her voice that showed she was worried about her injuries. He wished he could do something; just holding her hand seemed inadequate, but it was the best he had at the moment.

The doctor regarded Jules carefully as he started to attach a bag of clear liquid to her IV. "I didn't see any barbs on the shards. I'm calling in the surgeon more as a precaution than a necessity. Some of the shards are buried pretty deeply into your thigh muscle and a couple of them appeared to have bent. My first thought was that they bent because they hit bone but the x-rays don't show any signs of it. I can't figure out what else might have caused it."

Jules was pretty sure she could thank Dog kicking her in the thigh for bending the shards and embedding them so deeply but she wasn't ready to say that out loud. She tightened her hold on Sam's hand, sure he needed the extra comfort as much as she did. "Then why the surgeon?"

It was the same question Sam had asked but hers sounded more trepid than accusatory. The doctor smiled. "Removing those shards is going to take time, and it's going to be painful. A surgeon would have better drugs at his disposal than I would that would make it more tolerable."

Sam expected Jules to bristle and deny the need for any sort of heavy drugs. Usually she tried to tough out any hint of pain, no matter how major. He could remember too many times when he and a doctor had to insist on her taking painkillers after she'd been shot and again after the explosion at the lab because she hadn't wanted to admit to needing something. He couldn't say much; he and practically everyone else on the team had a similar if not as strong stubborn streak, but it didn't make it any easier to watch.

He was surprised then when Jules didn't protest at all. Instead her voice got smaller. "What else did you find?"

"You are one very lucky young woman, even if it doesn't feel like it right now. No cracked or broken ribs. Although bruised ribs can be just as painful as I'm sure you know. I did see a hint of a hairline fracture on your cheekbone. You must have been hit with something pretty hard."

"Just a Bear paw." Jules muttered with annoyance.

Confused as to what a bear had to do with a prison break, Sam and the doctor just exchanged a look. Sam shrugged slightly but didn't question her. The doctor continued. "It'll heal on its own but it's going to be painful as well. Other than that, just bruises. That bag I hung is a pretty strong antibiotic. I don't want to take any chances with those shards causing an infection. We'll definitely keep you overnight and then see how you're doing tomorrow before we decide how long we'll keep you."

"You keep mentioning how painful you know her injuries are; how about giving her something for it." Sam insisted.

Dr. Johnson shook his head. "I'm sorry; I can't take the chance of giving her something that would interact with what the surgeon might give her."

"Then can she at least have some water? Can't you hear how dry her throat is?"

"Not…"

"…until the surgeon sees her." Sam finished for him. It was obvious he wanted to say more but only some inner sense of propriety kept him from actually putting it to words. "Next time, instead of coming to the ER, maybe we should go straight to a surgical center.

The doctor didn't seem to take offense. "I know it's difficult, but I can assure you that I'm doing what's in her best interest by not doing anything. It shouldn't be much longer."

Before Sam could protest any more, Jules thanked the doctor and the ER physician left the cubicle. For a moment, it looked like Sam might follow the doctor out to demand something - anything- be done, but then he eased back down on the bed so that he was facing Jules. Her eyes were full of tears and she wouldn't quite meet his gaze. Sam cupped the side of her face, this time the bruised side as if he could hide the wound and thus make it disappear. "Jules?"

"Do you think I'm weak? Because I didn't tell him to just yank them out himself, damn the need for whatever drugs the surgeon has at his disposal?"

Leave it to Jules to worry about that. "I could never think you're weak: I know you're strong." He didn't mention being surprised by her willingness to take whatever the surgeon had to offer drug wise. He was pretty sure that would only add to her concern that he thought less of her.

"We had a dog growing up." Jules continued. The story seemed so random that Sam almost shushed her to protect what was left of her tortured voice. However, he knew Jules well enough to realize there was probably a relevant purpose to the story that she needed to get off her chest. "Rascal was always running around the property, probably too curious for his own good. No commenting on how he reminds you of me. Anyway, one summer he tried to make friends with this porcupine he discovered in the woods nearby. I don't know how many times he came home almost covered in quills after the porcupine made it clear he wasn't interested in being friends. The first couple of times, Mom rushed him to the vet and paid a pretty huge bill to have the quills professionally removed. After the third time it happened, Dad said he was through paying good money on a dog who refused to learn a lesson. So instead of taking him to the vet, Dad would treat Rascal himself. It would break my heart listening to Rascal yelp and whine in pain as one of my brothers held him so Dad could pull the quills. It sounded like they were torturing him."

And the idea of enduring that same kind of "torture" after everything else she'd been through was enough to make her willing to accept whatever drugs the doctors offered. She didn't have to say it for Sam to know that was what she was thinking. The desire to avoid that kind of pain didn't, however, prevent her from worrying about how doing so would make her seem to him or others. He knew that as well. He knew he had to say something to convince her it was okay. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got up close and personal with a cactus?"

Jules shook her head.

"When I was in college, my roommate Paul and I went hiking in Manitoba during the summer between our junior and senior year. One day I wasn't watching where I was going and I ended up falling into a prickly pear patch. Let's just say I ended up with cactus spines in places I don't want to talk about. It was nowhere near as bad as what you've got going on with your leg. Not by a long shot. Still, by the time Paul got them all removed, I was crying, screaming, and begging for my mom, drugs, the bottle of alcohol we'd smuggled in, anything that would take away the pain. I think Paul contemplating using a rock to knock me out before it was over. So don't feel bad about taking anything they offer you."

Jules frowned. "It'll probably be some sort of sedation."

Sam continued to watch her, knowing something was going on in her head and having a feeling it was probably more than worrying about appearing weak. "Yeah, maybe conscious sedation or maybe some sort of local that would numb the area. Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, you probably won't feel a thing."

"I should probably give my statement before the surgeon does whatever he's going to do. I'm sure Sarge and Ed are out there waiting to get it."

Now Sam understood. Of course her sense of duty was propelling her toward sharing her side of what happened in order to complete the transcript of the call, but he also sensed she was holding back, not wanting to put into words the full horror of what she went through at the hands of the inmates. "The whole team is out there but not because they are waiting to debrief. Giving your statement can wait until your injuries have been taken care of and your voice and throat have had a chance to rehydrate."

Jules started to chew on her bottom lip but then remembered how battered it already was. "If they sedate me, it might affect my memories."

Was it his imagination or was there a hint of something like hope and relief in her voice at the thought of not remembering everything? Though logically he knew she'd eventually have to face - and talk about - everything that had happened, he couldn't blame her for wanting to be able to forget it. Hell, he wanted to forget the things he'd seen. "It shouldn't affect that part of your memory. And if it does, then we'll deal with it."

There was a comfortable silence for several minutes, each lost in his and her own thoughts. Then Sam continued, "Jules, Ed seemed to think you were a little glad to get rid of them earlier, that you asked the nurse not to tell them when you got back from having the x-rays. The nurse was about to put me off until I gave her my name, so I think he was right at least about the second part. Were you avoiding having Ed back here because you thought he'd push you to talk?"

How could she explain the almost claustrophobic feeling that she'd begun to feel having Ed, Spike, and Raf in the small cubicle with her before the orderlies arrived to take her for x-rays? She couldn't explain it to herself let alone to Sam. She trusted the three men completely and she wasn't frightened or uncomfortable having them close by. She was certain of that but at the same time, she couldn't deny that she'd felt smothered by their presence. Somehow, they'd all, including Spike who was the smallest of the three, had felt like a larger presence than normal. She'd thought just getting out of the cubicle to go for x-rays would erase the feeling and she'd be fine when she was back in exam area.

When the nurse had followed the orderlies back in upon her return, Jules had been all set to ask her to tell her friends to come back. But as she'd opened her mouth to say the words, instead of granting permission, she'd found herself requesting privacy until Sam arrived. In the almost hour between making the request and Sam's appearance in the cubicle, she'd wavered between the guilt of shutting out her friends and the relief of not feeling the pressure of having them in the same room.

As the silence stretched out, Jules finally shrugged without answering. It wasn't fair; she knew she owed their friends better treatment, or at least an explanation, but she just didn't have the answers. Sam reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. His blood boiled all over again as he reached the now much shorter ends in the places where Dogland had sawed off sections of her hair with his shiv.

Jules frowned. "I bet it looks pretty bad. I don't think I want to see a mirror."

Jules wasn't one who obsessed over her looks. It was one of the things that had first drawn Sam to her; she was who she was and didn't worry about what others thought. He wondered if her concern now was over the hack job Dogland had given her or a bigger issue. Knowing her the way he did, he was certain it was the latter even if he wasn't sure that that bigger issue was. "I certainly wouldn't nominate him for Barber of the Year but it's nothing a good stylist can't fix. Think of it this way; you've been considering trying something new with your hair, so now's your chance. You'll have to go a little shorter than maybe you were thinking, but it'll look great. But here's the thing, even if you had to start using Ed's barber, you would still be the most beautiful woman I know. Nothing could change the way I feel about you."

Jules stared at him for a moment. He was talking about more than just her hair. He wasn't saying anything that her heart didn't already know, but it was something her head needed to hear at the moment. The tears that had welled up earlier now spilled over. She shifted on the bed so she could sit up and hug Sam. For the moment, none of the aches and pains mattered as much as holding and being held by Sam. His arms encircled her body and held her tight enough that her body didn't have much room for the shaking it was suddenly doing but not so tightly that he aggravated her injuries.

"Promise?" She whispered so softly that he wasn't sure he actually heard her. He answered her anyway.

"With all my heart."