A/N - this is my first Flashpoint fan fic. I am a relatively recent convert and I loved the series finale. Being a bit of a hurt/comfort junkie, I would have loved to have seen what happened between the time Sam went for help and the "one year later" bit. So this is my version. Nothing too graphic but a bit angsty.

All mistakes are my own. I didn't want to put my BETA under pressure around Xmas time so this is unbeta'd.

Disclaimer - I do not own any of these characters, I'm just borrowing them!

The Long and Winding Road

Chapter 1

"Greg, stay, stay here. You're not going anywhere. Stay here. You're staying here. Medic! Medic!"

Ed Lane yelled desperately as he cradled the weakening body of his fallen friend. Sergeant Greg Parker was fading, his eyes rolling in his head as he slowly succumbed to the injuries he had sustained. Ed stared back towards the door that Sam had ran back through to get help. He willed them to get there quickly.

He clung frantically to his partner whose breathing was becoming weaker and more laboured with each breath, his eyes now closed.

"Greg. Stay with me, Buddy. Come on. Open your eyes. Greg!" he pleaded, pulling him closer to him. "Greg, we're not done, please, just stay with me."

Another rasping inhalation of breath told Ed that his best friend was still with him, another trickle of blood from his mouth as he exhaled, proof that he was still fighting. Ed glanced back down the gangway impatiently. Where were they? How long had they been waiting? It felt like forever though it had barely been a minute since Sam had gone.

As he returned his attention to his friend, his eyes strayed upon the dead body of Marcus Faber, the bomber he had "neutralized". He looked down at Greg's bloodied face. He had already lost Donna thanks to that lunatic. He came very close to losing his son. There was no way he could cope with losing Greg as well.

His muddled musings were broken by heavy footfalls on the metal walkway, coming towards him. He was relieved to see Sam racing towards him, closely followed by two medics in military garb. The medics, from the CFMS, had been triaging the injured at the stadium when they heard the call for assistance from Braddock. With all other EMTs occupied, they were quick to offer assistance and grabbed whatever medical supplies they could and followed the SRU officer up into the roof of the stadium.

"He's dying. You've got to help him," Ed pleaded, as one medic loomed over him. Tears poured down his face.

"Okay, Sir," the medic said, kneeling down beside the pair. "You can let go. I've got him."

Ed looked at him, but was reluctant to relinquish his friend to this stranger. Sam understood immediately what was happening and stepped in. Ed was in shock. Sam came around behind him and took him by the shoulders and guided him to his feet.

"Let them work, Ed," he said, taking a couple of steps back so the second medic could access their patient.

Expertly, the two medics removed Greg's Kevlar vest to give them better access to his chest wound. They rolled him and saw that there was no exit wound. That meant a higher likelihood of more extensive internal injuries. They noticed that he was also bleeding heavily from another wound just above his knee. One of them checked his pulse; the other leaned over and closely listened to his breathing. They exchanged subtle concerned glances as one of them removed a field dressing from his medical bag and sealed the chest wound. The other applied another dressing to stem the blood loss from Greg's leg wound.

"We need to get him to the hospital…..fast."

However, there was one very big problem. Every ambulance, fire truck and police vehicle was in use thanks to the multiple bombings throughout the city and both the medics and the SRU officers knew it.

One of the medics optimistically radioed central command for emergency transport, but was told that they would have to wait a minimum of twenty minutes before a vehicle would be available. Sam and Ed heard the response and knew their boss didn't have that sort of time.

"Our truck is outside," Ed said, realising it was Greg's only hope.

"Okay, we've no choice. Right, as gently as you can, take a limb and lets move," one of the medics said.

Everyone responded quickly and they were soon on their way down several flights of stairs to ground level. As they carried Greg, Ed radioed Winnie.

"Winnie, are you there?" he asked, knowing that she was. "Call Trinity General and tell them that we need an OR team standing by. We're coming in hot."

"Copy," Winnie replied, biting back another sob.

She had heard through Ed's open mike his pleas to Greg and knew how bad things were. Despite taking the communication off speaker she was unable to hide her upset from Greg's son who was standing only feet from her waiting for news.

"What's happening?" Dean pleaded.

"They're taking your dad to the hospital," she said as calmly as she could. "I'll get someone to take you."

Dean nodded, barely able to speak. He had heard the gunfight. He had heard his father's grunts and cries as he was struck by each bullet. He had heard Ed when he reached his father and his reassurances to the wounded man that he was going to be okay, followed by his impassioned cries for assistance as Greg started to lose consciousness. Then he heard no more. Even though Winnie had told him that Ed had switched off, he suspected that she was sparing him the ordeal of listening to his father dying. He turned to his girlfriend and they hugged tightly.

As the SRU officers and medics exited the stadium carrying the grievously wounded sergeant, one of the medics called to one of the ambulance crews who was loading up their patient, and asked for a thoracotomy kit. They looked at him oddly for a moment and then saw who they were carrying and one of them climbed into the back of their bus and threw them out a kit, wishing them good luck.

"Put him down," the medic ordered and they all obeyed. "He needs a chest drain," he pointed out, as more blood flowed freely from Greg's lips.

They laid him flat and the medic took the kit between his teeth and ripped it open. He took a scalpel and made a small incision in Greg's chest wall. Using his finger he opened the slit wide enough to accept the plastic tube. Sam and Ed turned away as the medic forced the tube into the pleural cavity. Instantly blood poured from the tube and Greg's breathing improved almost immediately. He taped the drain securely in place before getting to his feet.

"Okay, let's go!"

Ed climbed in the back of the truck and held Greg against his chest. One medic climbed in beside them. Sam was already in the driver's seat and ready to go. The other medic stayed behind, knowing there was little else he could do for the injured officer.

Taking off at speed, Sam skilfully guided the SUV through the Toronto streets and arrived at the doors of the Emergency Room in Trinity General within minutes. He jumped from the black SUV and ran into the ER, calling for assistance. The trauma team had been pre-warned by Winnie and were waiting for their arrival. They hurried with a gurney to the truck and carefully loaded the patient onto it. Before Ed had a chance to climb out of the truck, they had whisked his friend away. He was left standing in the open door of the truck, staring towards the doors of the ER, not knowing what to do.

It was Sam's voice that brought him back.

"Ed, I've got to move the truck," Sam told him.

Ed turned towards him and wiped a fresh tear from his face, his friend's blood streaking his face as he did so. He looked at his gloves and gear and only then realised that he was covered in Greg's blood. The sudden realisation made him sick to his stomach. He turned away, leaned one hand on the rear of the truck and retched. Sam saw what had happened and leaned into his gear bag which was in the truck and produced a towel. He handed it to his team leader who was doing his best to compose himself.

"We can't lose him, Sam," Ed said, taking off his blood-stained gloves and throwing them in the back seat before accepting the towel.

Sam slapped his team leader on the back in a gesture of solidarity. He didn't know what to say. He knew as well as Ed did that their boss was in a bad way. He watched as Ed wiped the blood from his face and soaked some of it from his uniform.

As he climbed back into the driver's seat, Jules called him on his cell.

"Sam? What's going on? How's the Sarge?"

"We've just arrived at the ER. They've taken him in. I don't know any more," Sam told her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. How bad is it, Sam?"

"It looks bad, Jules, real bad."

"I'm on my way over. Winnie asked me to pick Dean up from HQ and take him to the hospital. I'll see you later," she said before hanging up.

"Ed, SIU are going to want your weapon and to do the debriefing as soon as they can," Sam reminded his team leader.

Ed looked at Braddock as if he was crazy.

"I can't just leave him," Ed said, referring to his injured friend.

"It's okay. Jules is on her way and she's picking up Dean. If we go now, we can be back before he's out of surgery," Sam suggested.

Ed considered what his team mate was saying. He knew he was right. He had just killed a man in the line of duty. There was a protocol that had to be followed. He had already broken it by leaving the scene, but there had been exceptional circumstances. He didn't expect any reprimand considering the circumstances.

"Come on," Sam said, guiding him to the passenger seat.

As they drove away, Ed's heart was heavy with guilt. He felt like he was somehow abandoning his friend in his time of need. But deep down he knew that he would just be waiting in a corridor for the next few hours and that there was nothing else he could do. Greg's life was in the hands of the medical staff at Trinity General. He said a silent prayer as they drove away from the hospital. His prayers were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cell phone.

It was his wife, Sophie.

"Hey, Soph," he said, answering immediately.

"You're okay. Thank God," she said sounding relieved. "I just heard from a nurse in the ER that an SRU officer had been brought in. I thought it was you."

"No, Soph, it wasn't me. It was Greg," Ed said, barely able to get the words out.

"Greg? Oh no," she said sounding utterly stunned. "What happened? Is he going to be okay?"

"It's bad, Soph," Ed replied, crestfallen.

"Are you at the hospital?"

"I was outside, but I have to go to SIU for a debriefing," Ed told her.

Sophie knew the implications of a visit to SIU for and SRU officer. It meant lethal force had been used. She couldn't help but be overwhelmed with concern for her husband.

"Ed, baby, are you okay?"

Ed broke down. His attempts to control the sobs were answer enough. He was far from okay.

"Don't worry. Ed, listen to me. I'll find out what I can for you. As soon as I hear anything, 'll call you," Sophie offered.

"What about Clark? How's my boy?" Ed asked, fighting his emotions.

His son had been trapped in his car after an explosion at City Hall and had sustained a number of fractures. He, too, had been taken to Trinity General for treatment.

"He's in good spirits. They've taken him up for x-rays. I'll tell him what happened and that you'll be here as soon as you can," Sophie assured him.

"Thanks. Can I ask you a favour?" Ed asked.

"Anything."

"Dean is on his way to the hospital. He's got no one. He's going to need us," Ed started to explain, but he didn't have to go any further.

"Don't worry. I'll look after him," Sophie vowed.

"I'll come straight back once this is done," Ed promised. "I love you."

"I love you too."

To be continued...

A/N - would love to know what you think. And apologies for any medical inaccuracies. I try but I do not have a medical background so all my medical jargon is from Google.