A.N. Wow, here it is! The final chapter! I can't believe it's finally done. Thank you for all of your feedback and encouragement, it has truly been amazing. I did my best to tie up all of the loose ends and leave things in a good place, and I hope you like this last little epilogue. It's been an adventure! Until next time... enjoy!

Update 5/23/2017: By popular request, sequel coming soon! Look for it within a week or two! Title – To the Power of Two.

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Predictably, life slowly began to settle down after the events at The Oakes—or, as settled as Team One's lives ever got while being sent out to hot call after hot call. Team One accepted a temporary replacement for Sam—a Constable Jack Rivers—and, while they were friendly and worked well together, it went without saying that Rivers would not be with them long, as their recovering teammate would return. Rivers had no problem with this and took no offense. He was honored to have the chance to work with the best and would never dream of being the cause for Team One's separation; the team and their loyalty to each other was legendary. Rivers had had the chance to work with them once before, when Team One and Team Four worked on a hot call jointly, and had seen their seamless flow, camaraderie and communication first hand. While he hadn't gotten much chance to interact with Braddock—as the man had been Sierra One on the call—he'd seen the man's skills when scorpio had had to be called and heard the stories of what he'd done in the recent hostage situation. Rivers had nothing but respect for the man and wished him quick healing. For now, though, he promised to watch Braddock's team's back while the sniper recovered.

A month after Sam woke up, a long overdue birthday party was held at the Wordsworth's household. Wordy's daughter had insisted on waiting until Sam was well enough to join them. When Wordy picked up Sam from the hospital in order to take him to the party, he told the man not to worry about a birthday gift, but Sam assured Wordy that he had it covered. When the gifts came out after much laughter, cake and ice cream, Sam handed Wordy's daughter a thin box decorated in horse wrapping paper. Inside were paints, a blank sketchbook, an instruction manual with very eye-catching designs, and a more advanced design book which focused on horses. When Wordy asked Sam when he'd had time to get the gifts—knowing full well Sam hadn't been allowed to leave the hospital before today—Sam only grinned and said a good friend had given them to him in thanks, which Wordy found rather odd… But he let it go.

Soon after that, Sam began the long road back to Team One through physical therapy and eventually conditioning. He thought of Libby often and wondered how she was doing. The trial was set for a month from then and he hadn't heard from her—she was in witness protection after all, with strict orders not to contact anyone from her old life. He wished he could see and talk with her again, but knew that he probably never would. After the trial, regardless of the outcome, she would have to remain in witness protection because it was likely that Bruce Evans would never stop going after her, even if he was behind bars.

Sam kept the note she'd given to him pinned to his refrigerator; she was a reminder of the good in the world and her words never failed to bring a smile to his face—and also because she had demanded that he put the note somewhere obvious and he wasn't about to risk getting on her bad side. It was a handmade card, the front of which read:

Sam Braddock

Hero

Inside, there was a lengthy note:

Dear Sam,

You are in the hospital right now and Wade and Burcell told me that you're stable. They thought that would be enough to stop my demanding to see you, but they were wrong. I've only increased my resolve and gave them an ultimatum: they let me see you or I don't testify. They tried to call my bluff—you should have seen the smug looks on their faces, thinking I would give in—but I wasn't bluffing—the smug looks disappeared pretty quickly, replaced with bluster and frustration. It was rather hilarious. So, they finally agreed to let me come visit you for a few hours tomorrow, before whisking me away until the trial. I don't know if you'll be awake or not, so I wrote this letter just in case. I really hope you're awake… I need to thank you in person and just know that you're going to be okay.

Tulio won't stop talking about you and now that it's no longer possible for him to grow up to be the manager of the store, he's convinced he's going to be a police officer someday. I think I'll let him dream and wait a little while before letting him know he probably can't be a police officer if he's in witness protection… kinda defeats the purpose of keeping him out of sight of "the bad guys."

The trial's been moved back a couple of months, which frankly just makes me anxious and mad. I just want to get this thing over with and put that monster away. I guess it'll be over eventually, but patience has never been my strong suit.

Oh, since your birthday shopping was so rudely and abruptly interrupted by stupid gunmen and you dropped everything to come back for me—don't think I didn't notice—the least I can do is give your items back to you. They're on the house, gift wrapped free of charge (I did it myself. It's beautiful, isn't it?). I hope you get a chance to give them to your friend's daughter, otherwise I expect you to keep them for yourself. You'll have lots of free time while you're recovering—you WILL recover, you hear me?—and they say painting is good for the soul, not to mention the fine motor skills it requires. I threw in a more adult geared painting book just for you and expect some masterpieces next time I see you.

I WILL see you again. And I'm not talking about tomorrow when I know I'll get to see you (and hope that you'll get to see me, too), that doesn't count. I'm talking about after that. Regardless of the fact that I'll be in witness protection for who knows how long, I am making the promise that I will see you. I will find a way—a safe way that doesn't compromise my new identity (I sound so spy-y saying that!)—and I will make it happen. I'm not letting Wade or Burcell read this letter, because if they did, they would have heart attacks and never let me out of their sight, so don't you let them read it either. They will not foil my plans!

Now that I have made a promise to you, I need you to promise me something. I want you to put this card someplace that you will see it every single day, because it's true and you need to be reminded of it. I saw the doubt in your eyes when I said that you were now Tulio's hero and I am writing you to dispel that doubt. You absolutely are. And you are my hero. You literally saved my life at the expense of your own and constantly kept me safe. You didn't talk down to me the way most grownups do, instead you talked to me as an equal. You crossed an entire store infested with gunmen without hesitation when I asked you to save my brother (I truly do not know what I would have done if you'd refused), and made me feel safe even in the midst of chaos. You comforted me and taught me being brave is doing things in spite of fear, not being fearless, and you showed me how to put someone else before myself. So put this on your door or something, because you are a hero, dammit! Maybe if I keep telling you, one day you'll believe. (Don't tell my parents I swore. That stays between you and me!).

Well, I don't want to stop writing, because that kind of feels like a goodbye, but if I don't stop now I don't think I ever will. I wish you all the best Sam. Thank you for being an amazing human being and going above and beyond the call of duty (you see what I did there?). I mean it.

With love and friendship,

Libby

A month into his physical therapy, the trial began. It lasted days, but Libby was brought in for as little time as possible, before she was once again whisked away. She remained composed throughout her testimony, even under the blistering cross examination. The verdict came back a resounding "guilty." Bruce Evans was going away for good.

Three months later and Sam passed re-qualifications with flying colors and record times. The day before his return to work, Ed called, asking if he could come by because he needed to talk to Sam about something. Sam was guarded when the other man arrived, unable to think of a reason Ed would want to talk… had Sam done something wrong? After chatting about how Team One had been doing and once Ed was done grumbling good-naturedly about the lack of air conditioning in Sam's apartment—it had broken a week ago and the repairmen were scheduled to come out tomorrow—Ed finally got around to the reason he'd come: to keep a promise. He told Sam he'd had a conversation with the blonde when he wasn't awake yet in the hospital, and it was about time Ed repeated what he'd said when Sam could hear. He said how proud he was at what Sam had done five months ago, taking down eight men single-handedly without a single hostage getting hurt, keeping his cool under pressure and on his own, and finding his way out of an impossible situation. Ed acknowledged they'd had a bumpy start when Sam first came to the team, but made sure Sam understood that all of Team One—Ed included—was fiercely proud to have him and that they wouldn't have it any other way.

There was definitely a lump in each of the man's throat by the end, though neither one let on, so after letting that moment sit, Ed immediately pulled out a box and handed it to Sam, saying it was a welcome back to the team gift from Ed. When Sam opened it, he looked up at the other man in amused confusion: it was duct tape. Ed took great pleasure in explaining to Sam that he was to use several feet of the tape in order to affix his cellphone to his arm or tactical suit at all times. Sam was never to be without his phone again.

The following day, Sam biked to work for the first time in months. He did not take a detour to go shopping. As he arrived in the parking lot, his phone rang with a number he didn't recognize. Assuming it was the air conditioning repairmen calling to let Sam know the job was done—Sam had had to leave before they finished—he answered briskly, "Braddock."

"Is that anyway to talk to a friend? And I told you I'd find a way," came the reply, the voice distinctly young and feminine.

Sam stopped in his tracks, a smile slowly spreading on his face. "Hey Libby."