Another chapter. Thank you for the amazing reviews, the more you say the better. They make me happy =)

Spike was first aware of the noises around him. Harsh breathing. The sound of an old building creaking under pressure. Voices in his ear. He turned his head to hear those voices better. That was when he first became aware of the headache. Headache didn't even begin to define the awful sensation originating from the back of his head. His face scrunched at the feeling.

"Spike? You awake, man?"

He heard the voice from near his head, but on the opposite side of the other, duller voices. This voice seemed clear and close. Spike looked at the source.

"Sam?" He asked through the darkness. There was a flickering light overhead, just enough to see the outline of his friend. "That you?"

A smile broke out on the dirty face of his friend.

"Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

"I feel like I've been hit by a bomb," Spike tried to joke. Then he thought of where he was and why he was here. He could only shutter at what he could remember. "The bomb-" he started.

"It wasn't the one you were looking at. There were others, all around the building. See?" Sam pointed towards a corner. Spike squinted to make out the familiar shape of a bomb. He knew it was safe, had inspected it himself. That didn't stop the inward cringe he felt at seeing it again.

"We missed other bombs?" He managed to get out.

"Yeah, they were hidden in trashcans apparently, throughout the whole building."

Spike took a minute to think about this, about everything that had happened so far.

"Is there a way out of here?"

He took a survey of the room, but he couldn't see much from his position. It was dark and he was on his back. The ceiling was in the best view for him right now, and he needed to see the rest of the room. Sam shook his head. It didn't stop Spike from pulling his arms back in an attempt to reorient himself. The world turned into a merry-go-round, spinning before his eyes. His body told him to return to his prone position, his mind demanded more of him. He was on the job. He had to suck it up.

"Take it easy," Sam muttered, not moving to help though. When Spike managed to get himself leaning against the same wall as Sam, he took an inventory of him. Sam looked no better than he probably did.

"Are you okay?" Spike said.

The ends of Sam's mouth curved upward. "Been better," he let out with a breath. He then moved to turn on the com system, something Spike had completely forgotten about in the turn of events. "Spike's awake."

Immediately Spike heard voices through his com, the same ones from before, this time directed towards him and a lot less hazy.

"You there, Spike?" Sarge said clearer than the rest. "How are you feeling?"

There was no point in lying. The team knew he had been out. "My head's a little sore," Spike admitted. He could imagine the groans on the other side from his statement.

"You just hang in there, both of you. I'm glad you're awake though, that's a good sign. How are you holding up, Sam?"

Spike looked over at him once again and took stock of his tired features, slumped body. The fact that he hadn't helped him up meant a lot. There was something wrong with him. Spike voiced his concern.

"I'm fine," Sam responded, both to the com system and to Spike. He didn't believe him.

Spike tuned out the voices on the other side. Not professional, for sure. At the moment though, he had to check on his friend. It was unprofessional to lie to the Boss too. Understate, that's alright. Spike didn't say he was ready to go though, not like Sam had.

"What are your injuries?" Spike asked with the com system off. He had to know what he was dealing with, even if Sam didn't want Sarge to know.

Sam looked reluctant to respond. "I think my leg's broken. And maybe I bruised some ribs. It's not that bad."

Moving his eyes hurt, but Spike shifted his gaze down to Sam's legs. They were both limp in front of him, neither looking out of place. "Which one?" He asked.

"Left. Don't touch it."

"Where at?"

"Femur," Sam mumbled. Spike stared wide-eyed for a moment. Not even thinking about the ramifications for his career, Spike knew that it hurt. It probably made his headache look like a minor boo-boo. He looked around for something maybe to splint the leg with, but there was nothing. Nothing even that he could improvise with. He knew Sam had to stay still, but the sniper already seemed to know this as well, or at least he was not inclined to move.

"What about your chest?" Spike asked when he stopped ruminating on the leg.

"I don't think anything's broken. It just hurts to breathe a little. I probably bruised some ribs, that's all."

Spike nodded, somewhat satisfied that Sam was telling the truth. He turned the com system back on. "We're back," he said before he could hear any conversation on the other side.

"Everything okay there, buddy?" Sarge sounded relieved, and Spike felt momentarily guilty for having ignored him for a minute. He needed answers though, and he got them. He didn't feel bad for that. Sam's reluctance to admit he was in pain in such a situation seemed out of character for him, but Spike chalked it up to the fact that he was in pain. Broken femur. Spike shuddered at that. He knew he should try harder to help his friend, but he couldn't think of anything that would lessen that pain.

"We're alright," Spike said. "Just had to check out where we were."

Sam seemed okay with that response, he had tensed when Sarge had asked the question. Spike knew he had to tell the Boss though. He needed to know how much time they had and that Sam wasn't mobile.

Spike closed his eyes. His head hurt too bad to be thinking this much. He wanted to be back in bed, or at least analyzing a bomb. Anything was better than sitting here with a probable concussion, waiting to be rescued. There was no way the two of them were getting out of here without assistance. Especially Sam.

"You two still alright? What's going on?" Sarge asked.

Spike had to bite the bullet, even if it was going to make Sam angry. At least he could outrun him. Assuming he didn't black out the second he tried to stand. "I probably have a concussion." Spike started out with the easy stuff. That could be assumed from the fact that he had been knocked out for a moment. "Sam's broke his leg, maybe some ribs too."

Spike looked over to Sam before finishing. "Any head injury?" He asked directly to him.

Sam scowled. "I bumped my head, but I didn't break the skin. And I don't have any symptoms of a concussion."

"Alright, do you have anything to splint the leg?" Sarge asked first.

"That's a negative, Boss," Spike responded.

"Okay. You just stay put, Sam, and we'll get you out of there."

Sam turned and glared at Spike for a moment before turning straight again and staring at the wall. Spike hoped his team would rescue them soon, before there was only one of them to rescue.

. . .

Jules could not afford to tune into the conversation as she scanned through the tip line. She listened to caller after caller report seemingly useless information, glad that Winnie was helping as well. They were making progress in the list, but nothing seemed to be of any use.

Jules glanced at the clock. 1:54. She wanted them all to be safe by two. She tried to remain optimistic, but she heard the fireman's reports. The stairs had collapsed and they were working their way through fire and unsteady building, worry about bombs as well. They weren't optimistic, so it was hard for her to be.

She had to pause when she had first heard Sam's voice, at the way it sounded so out of character. She knew he was hurt just as the rest of the team, no matter how much he denied it. So when Spike came on, Jules once again had to pause ever so briefly to hear what he was saying.

She immediately let out a breath the moment she heard Spike's voice. Being unconscious for too long was worrisome. Still, he sounded coherent now and as long as he didn't regress, he was probably alright. When she heard his inventory of Sam she once again paused.

"I bumped my head, but I didn't break the skin. And I don't have any symptoms of a concussion."

She huffed inwardly there. He was still playing everything down. If there was one person who should keep his cool in life or death situations, it should be Sam. He should know the importance of telling Sarge everything that was going on. She wouldn't be surprised if he did have a concussion.

Jules focused back on the tip line. She couldn't be distracted by her teammates. This was why they didn't allow relationships. Still, she and Sam had called it off. They were really just good friends now, and that wasn't against the rules. The job was essential, no matter her feelings. She had to focus on the one thing she could do to help.

"Jules, I think I got something," She heard Winnie say. Jules couldn't help but zone in on exactly what Winnie said next. "I have a caller. He's talking about two o'clock. We haven't released that to the media yet."

Finally, a lead. "Let's patch this into Sarge then. He still on the phone?" Jules responded quickly. At Winnie's affirmative, Jules let the Boss know what was going on.

"This is Sergeant Greg Parker with the Strategic Response Unit. May I ask who I'm talking to?" Sarge said the moment he was on the same line as the caller. Jules listened in for any clues or hints of what this guy was thinking.

"You had warning. There should have been enough time. They should be out of there by two," the voice sounded upset, but not distraught. He mentioned warning again, just like in the note. Different context here though. The conversation between the anonymous tipper and the Boss transcribed onto the screen in front of her. Jules watched for accuracy.

"What's going to happen at two?" Sarge responded in his calmed tone, as if he were speaking to a friend about the weather.

"They have to be out of there, but you're barely half-way done."

Jules took note of the fact that the tipper knew what kind of progress was being made. He must be in the area. She was confident that Sarge took notice of this as well. The Boss stepped into the van only a moment after this thought crossed her mind.

He switched to the com system. "You hearing this, Ed? Be on the lookout for anybody nearby on their phone," He ordered before switching tone and call. "We're trying our best, but we need to be prepared for what comes at two. We only have," He glanced at the clock and put his hand over his mouth with emotion. "We only have three minutes."

"It's too late. It's too late. No, no, no, no, no!" The voice was screaming by the end.

"Subject's in custody," Ed said in a detached tone. Jules's mouth opened. They went from having no leads to a subject in custody within minutes. But, there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that the tipper was right. That it was too late. There was no hope left.

I'm being greedy. Next chapter will be up the sooner I get feedback… You guys are awesome!