The lights were dim and Sam appeared relaxed when Ed entered, so he assumed that the exhausted man was asleep again. As he moved forward and sat in the terribly uncomfortable chair, he noticed that the nasal cannula had been removed while he was gone. He resumed the position he'd had all during his vigil while waiting for Sam to wake up.
"Don't you dare tell me to wake up."
Startled by the ex-soldier's voice, having been unaware that he was awake, he asked, "Sam?"
"I'm not sleeping. So if you ask me if I am, or tell me to wake up, I swear that I will get out of this bed and make you wish you'd never said those words." He shifted his shoulder, eliciting a wince. "On second thought, I will get out of this bed just as soon as I'm recovered, and then I will make you wish you'd never said those words." His eyes opened and he peered over at Ed.
The bald man smiled. "Feeling well enough to crack jokes are we?"
He shook his head. "Nope. I'm not joking."
Ed glared at him. "If you get out of that bed before the doctors say you are good and ready, then I will make you wish you hadn't even entertained the thought."
Sam sighed in resignation, recognizing that he was in no shape to move. After a moment of comfortable silence between the two men, he pinned Ed's gaze with his own and held it. "I'm glad it's me and not you."
Ed frowned in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"Before. You said you wished it was you in the east window, not me. Well, I'm glad it wasn't you."
"You heard that huh?" He sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. "Well, I'm not glad. You've been through enough."
"And you haven't? Besides, it was my idea to go through the windows; imagine how I would feel if you'd been shot because of me? This way is better: my harebrained idea worked, and I was the only one that suffered from it." The bleakness of the look that Ed gave him caused him to change his statement. "Or, at least, I'm the only one that suffered physically from it." A small feeling of warmth blossomed in his chest—it grieved him to know that he'd caused his team worry and pain, but at the same time, it was good to know that they cared.
Conceding that younger man's point, Ed nodded. "I suppose. Let's just go with the wish that it hadn't happened in the first place. That's something both of us can agree upon right?"
Sam's face suddenly lit up in a smile. "I don't know. I think some good has come of this. It's nice to know that I'm missed."
"Well of course you are misse—" He paused, his brain catching up to his mouth and realizing what Sam had said and what he, Ed, had let slip. "Now wait just a minute! What else did you hear?"
Sam grinned, eyes sparkling with humor—a stark contrast from the dark circles beneath them. "Oh, just something about my marksmanship being better than yours."
Ed's mouth opened then closed, and opened again. He couldn't get words out from around his tied tongue, until he finally settled on denial. "I never said that."
"Oh I know: 'you'll deny it to your grave.' I know that you know that you admitted it, and that's all that matters. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He winked.
"Oh shut up." Ed grumbled, regretting the fact that he had indeed admitted that.
The air in the room turned more serious as the smile dropped off of Sam's face and he asked, "So you want to fill me in on what happened?"
Worry spiked in Ed's stomach. "What? I thought you remembered? Are you feeling okay? Forgetting anything else?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Ed. I'm not forgetting anything else. I was unconscious for a fair bit of it after I was shot, and I'm pretty sure my ear piece fell out—either that or I was just out of it—" he muttered under his breath before continuing, "So I didn't hear much of what was going on."
Ed blew out a breath before leaning back in his chair and placing his hands behind his head. "Well, Spike figured out that the mother of the other victim was a sniper just as you and I were about to enter—that's why he yelled at us to wait—but it was too late for that so I went in and took down Maclaney no problem. He wasn't really violent, he was just playing us and pushing all the right buttons so we thought he was going to hurt one of the hostages." He hesitated, not sure whether he should add this next bit or not. He didn't want to burden Sam, but at the same time… "Spike's really beating himself up about not getting Harrison's information sooner. I keep trying to tell him that there was nothing he could have done, but he won't hear it. I'm hoping now that you're awake that that will change, but…" He let his voice trail off, unsure of what, exactly, he wanted to say.
Sam picked up where he left off. "But that's doubtful given how stubborn Spike can be, so you think if it comes from me, he'll hear it."
Ed nodded in confirmation.
"Well of course I'll talk to him. You're absolutely right that there was no way he could have stopped what happened. I'll take care of it, Ed. You can let it go."
The Team Leader sighed in relief. Until Sam had voiced it aloud, he hadn't realized that that was his problem: that he'd exhausted all options in helping his teammate, and had been no help at all. "Thanks. Okay," he continued, "So after I secured Maclaney, I had no idea what was going on. Man you would not believe the sinking feeling I got when I realized you hadn't entered the room with me." He shuddered. "The Boss told me what was going on, we cleared the hostages and Maclaney, and then we were able to focus on getting you to safety. Harrison had a clear shot to the east window, so we went down from the west one and I pulled you around the 'artistic concrete.'"
Sam groaned.
"So you remember that huh? Still gonna find the architect who designed that?"
Sam flapped his hand at Ed. "Oh just get on with it."
"Before I rappelled down to get you, I was actually able to break through to Maclaney, and he told us what building Harrison was in. Thank God I did, because if I hadn't, you'd have been waiting a lot longer and I'm not sure you would've…" He couldn't finish the sentence. Sam's gaze locked with his and he nodded his understanding. "Anyway, the police were able to locate and arrest her, and we got you to a hospital as fast as we could. You were the only casualty, Sam. No one else was injured." He knew the young man would want to know that.
Sam nodded his understanding. "Thank you."
"Just doing my job."
"No, seriously Ed." He reached out and grabbed onto Ed's hand, more gently than an hour before, but firmly nonetheless. "You saved my life. Thank you."
Ed squeezed Sam's hand before placing it back by his side. "You're welcome."
They were interrupted by a commotion down the hall. A security guard ran past the door, causing Ed to leap up. "I'll be right back." He called over his shoulder, running towards the sounds of shouting. As he approached, it quickly became clear what was happening.
"If you don't let me see my friend right now, I swear that you will regret the day you were born!" Spike yelled at the security guard blocking his path.
"Sir, our visiting hours are over! I cannot let you in right now! If you come back in the morning, I'd be happy to let you see him!"
"Hey!" Ed shouted, drawing everyone's attention to him as he hurried towards the small gathering of people. "Hey! He's with me! Let him through!"
The security guard looked at him in doubt and opened his mouth, ready to refuse. "I'm sorry sir, I can't—"
"No, let him through." Rebecca cut in, walking up from behind Ed.
The security guard met Rebecca, then Ed's, gaze, and nodded. He stepped aside and Spike brushed by. "Thank you." The Italian muttered, still mad that he'd been delayed.
Ed gave a more sincere thank you to Rebecca.
"No problem. You guys have waited long enough."
Spike and Ed walked back down the hall towards Sam's room. Ed could tell that Spike was nervous, but he chose not to comment. They reached the door and Spike stopped a moment, before he placed his hand firmly on the handle and pushed.