"Ed we're at the roof, we're ready to move in," Sam told the team leader as he and Jules advance towards the door that would lead them to the top of the building believed to be the refuge of their subject.

"Northwest corner by the air vent, looks like a rifle barrel," Ed's voice came through their headsets, instructing them where the subject was hidden, oblivious to the two SRU officers closing in behind him, ready to take him down.

"Copy," Jules replied. She looked towards Sam and their eyes met briefly before he nodded to confirm his readiness. Looks such as these were the most intimate Sam and Jules could be while on the job, not just because of their relationship being a secret to the rest of the team but also because they couldn't afford to allow themselves to be anything but objective when lives were on the line. It was one of the hardest parts of their relationship, having to watch while the other was in danger and hide the rising fear that those situations always caused. Sam and Jules had discussed at length what they would do if one of them were to get hurt, and they always came to the same conclusion: treat each other as you would any teammate. Emotions were a dangerous thing in their line of work and they couldn't allow them to cloud their judgement in any way, otherwise they were unfit to do their job. Still, it did not keep away the anxiety or the occasional nightmares that these emotions brought, they could only hope that if the time unfortunately came, they would be able to fulfil their promises to each other and themselves to remain professional.

Jules paused to gather herself before pressing gently on the door to the roof, wincing internally as it groaned in protest of the movement. Through their headsets they heard the rest of the team confirm that they were closing in on the two officers' position, ready to provide backup as needed. Slowly she emerged onto the roof, gun in one hand and shield in the other, covering both herself and Sam as they advanced across the rooftop to the location that Ed had given them. Once they were halfway across they could see the indistinct shape covered with army netting perched on the edge of the roof, facing outward to the streets below.

"He's not moving," Jules relayed to the rest of the team, peering through the plastic window of her shield, gun raised and ready for any sudden moves. Their entry had been anything but silent, so why hadn't the subject moved when he heard them come up behind him? Be it her intuition or her years of experience as a police officer, Jules couldn't help but feel that something was wrong with the scene in front of her. In response to the information, the team began speculating that he had killed himself, but Jules didn't think the answer was so easy.

"Go in slowly," Ed told them. She and Sam shared another quick glance before Jules moved towards the subject, shouting along with Sam, identifying themselves and demanding for him put his hands in the air and surrender his weapon. Reaching forward, Jules grabbed at the netting and pulled it back, to reveal not the body of their subject but a black backpack. Cold dread hit Jules at the same time as the realisation.

"It's a decoy." Instinctively, she moved the shield around to protect herself, suddenly extremely conscious of the vulnerable position she and Sam were in, perched on the roof of one building surrounded by many others, all of which had the potential to hold a sniper.

Sam had obviously been struck by the same thought, voicing the question they were all wondering; "Where is he?", whilst glancing from rooftop to rooftop in the vain hope that he would be able to spot the man who had so successfully tricked them into emerging into the open. They could hear Ed yelling at them to fall back and take cover but before they could make a move two shots rang out in quick succession.

For Jules, exposed at the edge of the building, it came as a great surprise that no bullets had struck her or her shield and for a few glorious seconds she was oblivious to the fact that the bullets had found another target, one without a shield to cover itself with and one that provided a much easier opportunity. But the moment quickly vanished as she turned towards where her teammate had been standing only moments before. Now, he was on the ground, and it took Jules a few more precious seconds to realise why. Then she figured it out. Sam had been hit. In her despair her response was not as she had expected. Instead of freezing, her only rational thought was to get to Sam as quickly as possible, and that's where she found herself moments later, on her knees in the gravel beside him.

As she reached him, her worst fears were confirmed by the rapidly growing pool of blood that was migrating towards her knees at a much faster pace than she would have thought possible. Looking at Sam, she couldn't hold back a gasp at what she saw. The first bullet had ripped through Sam's vest, leaving a jagged-shaped hole over his left chest through which dark red blood spilled like water through a tap. The second had hit him slightly higher, at the base of his neck, missing his vest altogether and tearing through unprotected flesh. Each wound would have been serious on its own, but combined she could only imagine the effect they had had. Sam was gasping like a fish out of water, eyes wide and staring but unfocused.

In a rush of adrenaline, she fell back on her training, placing a hand over the wound in Sam's neck in an attempt to stop all his life's blood from flowing out onto the gravel, shouting the words that no member of the police ever wanted to hear or say; "Officer down!" Luckily she had the presence of mind to keep the shield covering both herself and Sam's prone body, but she desperately wished she had both hands available to cover each wound. As it was she only had the one, and she chose to use it for his neck wound as, judging by the amount of blood it was producing, the bullet had hit an artery on its way through.

Perched there on the rooftop, with Sam's hot blood spilling through her small fingers, Jules had just a second to come to the realisation that the moment she and Sam had discussed had thrown itself at them in the most sudden and unexpected way. As the blood continued to flow, unresisting to the pressure of her hands, she thought of how naive they had been to think that they could handle their emotions in a situation such as they were facing now. Objectivity was the farthest thing from her mind, clouded by the sheer panic and desperation of seeing the man she loved bleeding to death in front of her as she watched, unable to stop it from happening despite her best efforts. No, objectivity had ceased to mean anything to her, all that mattered was Sam and that he was dying and that she was helpless to stop it.

Jules was also helpless to stop the bullets that began to ricochet off her shield, intending to cause more harm to the already damaged officers behind it. Concern for herself was gone, and as she shouted for her team to come to their aid, all she could think about was protecting Sam, who was too busy dying to protect himself from the onslaught. Holding tightly to her shield and to Sam, she closed her eyes and prayed for her teammates to get to them soon, before the damage was too much to reverse.

When the bullets hit Sam he was thrown back with so much force that he couldn't come up with any conclusion more logical than that he had just been knocked over by a very large truck. I wasn't until after he had hit the ground that he remembered he was on a roof, so a vehicle definitely wasn't the culprit. Then, at the same time, his brain registered both the pain in his chest and the echo of gunshots ringing between the buildings and concluded that he had been shot. The thought should have scared him but all he could feel was the white hot agony radiating from his chest outwards and the increasing difficulty with which air was entering and leaving his lungs. He thought he heard someone shouting in his ear and would have swatted them away if not for the sudden weight added to his limbs that made it difficult for him to do anything but lie there and feel his chest tighten with every half-breath he took.

He had thought the pain was bad before but suddenly it increased tenfold as something pressed against his body, automatically making him recoil in an attempt to escape the agony. While it caused him pain the contact also brought him a sense of clarity and he discerned the shape of a person crouched next to him. Jules. He wanted to turn to her, to check that she was alright, to say something to her, but with every second his body became heavier and heavier and his vision darker and darker and it suddenly dawned on him that this was what it felt like to be dying. He had been in dangerous situations before, both in Afghanistan and with the SRU, but never before had he been so seriously injured as to feel the pull of final darkness on his vision. Despite this, Sam was strangely calm, feeling his strength leave him with a sort of detached acceptance as his breaths became weaker and fewer and he finally slipped away quietly into the dark.

Greg, Lou and Wordy were all on their way to Sam and Jules' position when they heard the two shots ring through their headsets with a deafening finality. Greg's first reactions were shock and then sheer panic, before he came to himself enough to remember that he was the boss, and that his team were looking for him to provide leadership in situations like this. By this time, Jules had already confirmed that Sam had been hit, and Greg felt a sense of dread settle like a weight in his stomach. At the end of the day, team one was under his watch, and he felt responsible for each and every person under his command. For this reason, it hurt all the more when one of them was injured. Whether or not he was in a position to have changed the outcome, he was always left with a pervading sense of guilt and regret that he hadn't been able to stop his team from getting hurt or shield them from the dangers that the job brought on a daily basis. Though he knew that wasn't always possible, it damn well didn't stop him from trying.

Taking a second to settle himself he pushed his concern to the edge of his mind, because at that moment one of his men needed his help and he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that he received it.

Reaching the rooftop he took a breath to collect his nerves before turning to Lou and Wordy, who were sharing anxious glances between them at the knowledge of what lay beyond the door. "Low and tight. Louis you cover."

The trio emerged onto the rooftop behind the cover of shields, desperate to reach their fallen teammate as quickly as they could but sharply aware of the bullets raining down on them once they came into view of the sniper. As they got closer, Greg's stomach turned at the stark pool of blood surrounding Sam and soaking into to the knees of Jules uniform. There was no time to do anything for Sam on the roof, with bullets continuing to pound against their shields now as well as Jules', so they lifted Sam as gently as they could and began manoeuvring him towards safety, all the while speaking platitudes that they knew most likely fell on deaf ears. When they finally got through the door and into shelter, it was like a burden had been lifted off Greg's shoulders and he could finally attend to his officer without worrying about any external threats.

"Where the hell is EMS?" he shouted in frustration, taking over from Jules by pressing on Sam's wound in her place. Jules was reluctant to let go of Sam but when she realised her hands were shaking she moved away to let Greg help him, watching closely as they tried to save their newest team member.

"I'll bring them up," Louis told them, moving away from the stricken form of his teammate towards the elevator. Wordy ripped open Sam's vest, and with it a gush of blood came from the hole in his chest before he could stop it.

"Damn it boss this is bad," Wordy said as he put his weight over the injury, face lined with concern.

"I know," was all the response Greg could muster. The dark blood running from Sam's body provided a stark contrast to the paleness of his vacant face and his lips were tinged with an alarming shade of blue. Greg could only guess how much blood Sam had already lost, but he knew that it was enough to put him at serious risk. All in all, it didn't take a genius to see that Sam was in trouble, and it pained him to see his normally eager officer in such a state.

In response to the pain from Wordy's touch, Sam groaned softly and his eyelids flickered before opening to slits that allowed the smallest amount of blue to be seen behind them. Greg leaned over him in surprise. "Hey buddy, can you hear me?" he asked.

Sam must have tried to utter a response, but it only resulted in a violent cough barking past his lips, bringing with it a stream of blood that dripped down his cheek to mix with what had already fallen to the floor. The cough continued for a painfully long minute and by the end Sam was gasping for air, blood gurgling in his throat, forcing his teammates to turn him on his side to clear his airway. The movement provided temporary relief but they knew that before long they wouldn't be able to do anything more to help Sam.

At that moment, the paramedics appeared behind a worried looking Lou, who could see the deterioration in his teammate during just the minute or two he had been gone. The two EMTs crouched down beside Greg and Wordy, taking in their patient's injuries with practiced eyes. Greg relinquished his hold on Sam to the paramedic next to him who took over the pressure with a wad of gauze in an effort to finally stop the stubborn flow of blood that had so far refused to stop. The other began taking vitals and so began the swapping back and forth of medical terminology that would help them to stabilise their patient enough for him to be moved to the ambulance awaiting him on the street below. Greg zoned out from the conversation, moving from his position to reach Jules and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him through blurred eyes and Greg could see the pain reflected behind her gaze, the pain which they were all feeling sharply. He smiled weakly at her before turning his attention to his non-present teammates who were at the same time chasing down their subject in another building.

"Ed, status," Greg spoke into his comm.

"Spike and I are in pursuit of the subject, west tower, city hall," came the reply, laced with determination to find the man who had taken down one of their own.

"Copy. Go careful." Greg knew that Spike and Ed were more than capable of dealing with the situation for now, but he was worried for Ed's state of mind. He had a tendency to get emotional, in particular angry, when the lives of his team members were at stake. On top of that, Greg knew Ed had to be feeling guilty for Sam's predicament because the subject had a personal vendetta against him and Sam had ended up as a casualty as a result. Greg, and the rest of the team, knew well enough that neither Goran Tomasic's death nor Sam's injuries were Ed's fault, but he wasn't sure if Ed knew that himself. Greg could only guess what was going through Ed's head at that moment, but his faith that his officer would do his job despite his emotional turmoil remained steadfast.

Safe in the knowledge that the rest of his team were handling the subject, Greg could refocus his attention on Sam. In the short time he had been checking in on Ed, the paramedics had dressed Sam's wounds with pressure bandages which seemed to have finally slowed the bleeding and had also intubated him in order to keep his airway open and deliver him the oxygen he had been having such difficulty taking in. With a few final touches the paramedics were ready to move him, and Lou and Wordy immediately stepped in to help with the transfer onto the gurney waiting for him. Gently, the four men picked him up and placed him down again, the limpness of Sam's body during the procedure only serving to drive home the critical condition of their teammate. Solemnly, they followed behind as Sam was wheeled into the elevator and rode down in silence but for the rhythmical squeezing of the ambu-bag keeping Sam alive, each lost in their own private thoughts and finding no words to say to each other that would serve any purpose.

Careful not to disturb any of the equipment helping Sam, Jules gently took Sam's hand into her own. As soon as the elevator doors opened the paramedics were moving again, Jules keeping pace beside them, never letting go of Sam's hand. Greg rushed forwards to open the doors to let the gurney through and they all felt a sense of relief at seeing the ambulance parked right behind them. As they emerged outside, the team fell back to hand over responsibility to the paramedics with the exception of Jules, still holding Sam's hand between her bloodied fingers.

"Hey, you have to let him go," one of the paramedics told her, and Jules finally let Sam's hand slip through hers to clunk back onto the gurney and watched as he was taken out of sight, trying not to think about the double meaning behind the words. Taking a deep breath to collect herself and consciously avoiding looking at the blood coating her hands, she turned back to her remaining teammates as they headed towards city hall, where they knew their subject had taken refuge. She gratefully accepted the sniper rifle given to her by Wordy as well as the suggestion to find a sierra spot. Now that Sam was in the care of the paramedics and being taken to hospital for further treatment, she was able to focus less on caring for him and more on apprehending the son of a bitch who had hurt team one so badly. Sadness and worry were being replaced by determination and anger with every step she took. If Jules could do nothing else to help Sam, then the least she could do was take down the man who had been terrorising the police for the last hour. This was what she was trained to do. It was all that mattered right now.

As city hall came into view Jules stopped at a wall 50 metres or so away from the building, using her arm to balance the end of her rifle upon. She gripped the weapon tight, comforted by its familiar weight in her hands and starting to feel herself calm down as she lifted her eye to the scope.

"Boss, I've found a vantage point," she told Greg, sweeping the scope back and forth to get a better look at the building. "I can see the mechanical room."

Suddenly a commotion could be heard through the comm. and the subject's grief filled voice rang through their ears. Then Spike's; "He's got Ed. He's got a gun to his head."

The words knocked the breath right out of Jules and she struggled to maintain the composure she had worked so hard to find. On any day those words would have terrified her, but on a day that the life of one of their teammates already hung in the balance, she didn't think she could stand to see another one go down. Ed was not just their team leader, he was their mentor and their friend.

Forcing herself to calm down, Jules took a couple of deep breaths. Sniper breathing, she thought. She needed to get her heart rate down. The slow rhythm of her breaths began to settle not only her heart but also her nerves and she was very quickly able to get a hold on her emotions.

"I don't have a clean shot," Spike's voice came through again. "Ed's in my line of fire." Jules could hear her teammates' frustration at the news but forced herself to remain calm.

As their frustration was building, Ed was trying to negotiate with the man holding a gun to his head, but in his grief he was barely listening to anything Ed had to say.

"Jules, we need a solution," Greg told her impatiently, growing more and more desperate to get this over with and neutralise the threat once and for all.

"I can't get a clear shot, he's behind the pillar," she told him, watching the window eagerly in case the subject moved and inadvertently revealed himself to Jules' sniper rifle. When it became clear that he wasn't going to, Jules spoke directly to their team leader; "Ed, you've gotta move forward."

Knowing that Ed would do all that he could to take the man down, Jules barely blinked as she looked down the scope towards the window where the subject would hopefully soon be revealed.

"I need you to listen to me," Ed spoke calmly. "I'm sorry but I need you to listen to me. Please don't shoot." Jules still couldn't see the subject, keeping her breathing steady as she thumbed the trigger. Then, suddenly, he was in sight, and without a second thought she pulled the trigger, hitting the target dead centre. Deathly silence loomed over the radio and slowly Jules pulled back from the scope as though she were emerging from a trance. All she felt was an overwhelming sense of relief as she realised that it was over and that the man who had hurt Sam was never going to hurt anyone again.

"Subject's down," Ed told them with a tone of finality. With the final confirmation, Jules allowed her tense muscles to relax and finally let her guard down. That was when the emotions came flooding back and Jules felt her grief return with a powerful blow. Even worse was the knowledge that she would have to wait to see Sam, as the shot she had just taken meant a few hours with SIU in her immediate future, analysing every detail of the call. She didn't think she could bear to recall the events of the day and let her mind replay the horrible experience, but she didn't have a choice in the matter. That was the price she would pay for taking down the man who had caused them such pain.

Quietly she headed back to the van to meet up with her team and to be taken away for questioning. When she saw Greg, she couldn't help but hope that he might be able to delay her appointment with SIU, even though she knew that it was a small hope. "Where is he?"

Greg's gaze was sympathetic at the question. "St. Simon's, we're on our way."

"I want to go with you," she pleaded, "Paperwork can wait."

"Jules," he said calmly, "get there when you can. We'll be there, we're not going anywhere."

Jules nodded in resignation, feeling her flame of hope flicker and die as she walked away, choosing not to respond to Greg's praise of "It's a good job." She did turn to Ed however when he called after her, giving him a brief nod at his thanks before continuing to the squad car awaiting her arrival. She knew the rules well enough, but as she rode back to SRU headquarters she couldn't help but despair at the unfairness of it all. She was the one who loved Sam and was most desperate to see him, but she was the one person who couldn't. She could only hope that when she was finally able to reach the hospital, he would still be waiting for her.

In the end, Jules needn't have worried as much as she did. The SIU officers were sympathetic and made an effort to keep the whole process as brief as possible so that she could go to the hospital for her injured teammate. What they didn't know was that he was so much more than that to her, but Jules was in no hurry to tell them. If they had known, things might have gone much differently. Romantic relationships in the SRU were strictly prohibited, and if commanding officers ever caught wind of one they took immediate action. Jules wasn't so much worried about her job, she was more worried about getting to Sam as soon as possible. If the SIU had known about her and Sam, she would have been there for much longer and come under much more intense scrutiny, so Jules kept it simple and told them everything that had happened, keeping emotions out of it and dealing strictly with the facts.

After she was cleared she headed straight for her car, taking no time to pick up personal possessions and caring only for getting to the hospital quickly. She considered calling Sarge or Ed for information, but she didn't think she could bear to hear it over the phone if there was bad news. So she drove in silence, wishing that she was on duty so that she could turn on the sirens and speed to Sam with a clear path.

Finding a space as near to the hospital as she could, Jules parked hap hazardously and fought the urge to sprint to the doors. Approaching the desk, she held her breath in anticipation of what she would hear. It had been almost 3 hours since Sam had been shot and Jules wasn't sure whether having any news was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Excuse me," she said to the nurse behind the desk, proud at how steady her voice sounded, "I'm looking for Sam Braddock. He was brought in a few hours ago with gunshot wounds."

The nurse was a young, kind-looking woman, who smiled at Jules with sympathetic but wholly non-patronising eyes. "Of course, I'll have a look for you." While she typed away at her computer, Jules glanced impatiently around the waiting room, taking in the variety of sick, injured, young and old patients scattered across the chairs. What were they here for, she wondered? Were they having their own little personal tragedy, stuck here anxiously waiting for news of loved ones that they feared to hear in case it was anything but positive? Were they in a dark little world of their own where all they knew was worry and fear and cared for nothing else but their relatives and friends? Probably not, she thought, most were just here to see their minor ailments tended to, but it helped to think that they were so that she didn't have to be alone in her grief for someone she loved.

"Mr. Braddock is currently in surgery," the nurse told Jules. "Family and friends can wait in the surgical waiting room until the doctor is ready to give you any news. Just take the elevators down there to the fourth floor," she added, pointing down the corridor to direct her.

Jules breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the nurse, heading for the elevators that she had shown her. Sam was alive, she told herself, and that was as much as she could have hoped for at this stage. Now she would be able to join the rest of team one in their wait for any news.

As Jules entered the waiting area, it was easy to spot her teammates amongst the crowd. Sitting in two rows across from each other, they made quite a sight in their grey uniforms and kevlar vests emblazoned with the words 'police' and 'SRU'. Thankfully they had left their weapons in the car, but other people were still casting surreptitious glances their way and staring for longer than was necessary or polite. Greg glanced up as she entered, as though he had felt her presence in the room, and stood up to meet her as she approached.

"Do we know anything yet?" she asked in desperation, glancing from face to face in the hope of discerning any kind of emotion that would answer her question.

Greg answered it for her; "We don't know anything yet Jules. By the time we got here he had already been rushed into surgery. We're just waiting for the doctor to come out and tell us something." At this, Jules' face fell.

Noticing her forlorn expression, Wordy piped up, saying, "No news is good news right?", with far more optimism than Jules was feeling. Still, the familiar quip helped to settle her nerves slightly and she sat down with her team to wait out Sam's surgery.

The others did not ask her how things had gone with SIU and Jules was grateful for it, preferring to sit in silence with the comforting presence of her team members beside her. They sat this way for a long while, before a voice asking "Family of Samuel Braddock?" broke them all out of their private thoughts and they all shot out of their seats as though a hot call had just been announced.

The surgeon looked a little bit daunted at the five police officers in front of him, eagerly anticipating each word that he would say, but he quickly and professionally gathered himself. "First off let me start by saying that Sam came through the surgery and is in recovery now," he told the group. Each officer felt a little bit of their tension release at the statement, sharing relieved looks with each other that spoke volumes as to their concern for Sam.

"As you know, officer Braddock was shot twice, the first bullet hitting him in the base of the neck. Unfortunately the bullet hit his collar bone and caused a very serious break, which we'll have take him back into surgery to repair at a later date when he's regained some strength. The immediate threat however was that the bullet nicked the carotid artery which caused extensive blood loss."

At this, the team exchanged more glances, this time filled with anxiety. The doctor was quick to pick up before they could draw any unwanted conclusions. "We were able to repair the artery but we're still working on transfusing him to bring his blood pressure back to normal levels. The second wound to the chest was also a serious concern as it punctured a lung before deflecting off the ribs and lacerating his spleen. We were able to repair both successfully, but we had to crack open his chest in the ER to stop some of the bleeding, which was a drastic but necessary measure that will unfortunately take a long time to heal fully."

The team looked sickened at the thought of the doctors having to open Sam's chest. Jules in particular had turned an alarming shade of white, swallowing thickly to keep her emotions in check at the news. It was hard to hear a physical description of all of Sam's injuries, as it brought a sense of reality to the day's events which Jules desperately wished could have been a dream.

"All in all, Sam's body has been through hell and back. The blood loss, combined with the massive internal trauma has left him very weak, which is why we have him on life support for the moment. We'll be moving him to ICU in a short while, and we can allow you to visit him briefly but only one at a time. The next 24 hours will be critical as to whether Sam will pull through, but I'm cautiously optimistic that he'll make it. You seem to have quite a fighter on your hands," he told them with a smile.

The team nodded and smiled half-heartedly in response. The doctor was certainly right on that account. Jules knew that very few others could have come through what Sam had experienced and still be alive to tell the tale. It was that thought that she tried to hold on to as they team waited for Sam to be moved to the ICU so that they could finally see him. She was so very grateful that she wasn't about to visit a corpse. Evidently the rest of the team were thinking along the same lines, as the tension that had been mounting with each minute of waiting for news had deflated slightly after the doctor's visit. They were all still extremely on edge however, as they knew that Sam was not yet out of the woods, and he couldn't just bounce back from this in a heartbeat to return to his place amongst team one. But they also knew that, whether he was able to return or not, they would support him the whole way.

About half an hour after the doctor had come out to see them, a nurse came to fetch them from the waiting area and bring them to the ICU. They followed obediently as she took them up in the elevator and led them through a maze of corridors to arrive at Sam's room. It was one of many running along the corridor, all of which had a large glass panel set in the wall to allow easy surveillance of the patients. She stopped them just before the window to Sam's room, and Jules was nearly bouncing out of her shoes in her anticipation to see Sam for the first time since he had been carried away to the ambulance.

"Now I'm afraid I can only allow one of you in at a time due to hospital policy," the nurse told them in a serious tone, "but you can all have a turn in the room with him as long as you don't take too long." Jules nodded impatiently at the information which had already been given to them, eager to get past the nurse and see her teammate with her own eyes. "Mr. Braddock is on life support at the moment, so don't be alarmed at all the machines you see, just remember that they're all there to help him. If you need to ask any questions don't hesitate to come to the desk down the hall and find someone, they'll be happy to give you any information you need."

Greg nodded in thanks on behalf of the team and the nurse moved away down the corridor, releasing team one to see their stricken teammate. Cautiously, they approached the window, and their spirits dropped at what they saw. Sam hardly looked any better than when he had been bleeding out on the floor, his face still too pale and dark circles under his eyes making a new addition to his overall ghoulish appearance. A tube snaked out of his mouth and connected to the respirator that was pushing his chest up and down in a steady rhythm. As for the rest of his body, there was barely a patch of skin visible underneath the heavy bandages that encased his chest up to his neck, where the first bullet had struck, and the various leads and wires that were attached to different parts off his torso. Another tube, placed just under his right collar bone, delivered blood to replace that which he had lost so much off at the scene.

Jules' hand went instantly to her mouth and she felt the warm weight of Ed's hand on her shoulder, whether meant to reassure her or himself she did not know.

Greg, always the negotiator, was first to speak. "Who wants to go first?" he asked solemnly. All eyes went to Jules but she shook her head no, she wasn't ready yet to face what lay behind the glass in front of her.

"I'll go," Spike volunteered, brushing past Jules to reach the door, hesitating slightly as he turned the handle before entering the stark hospital room. Jules watched as Spike, then Lou,Wordy, Ed and Greg all took their turn, all taking a minute to speak unknown words to the man in the hospital bed before allowing the next person to take their place.

When the time came for Jules to enter, she forced herself to take each shaky step that led her to Sam. The guys had taken up various positions in the hall, leaning against the wall or facing each other in grim silence and she was extremely conscious of their watchful gazes as she crossed the room to Sam's bed.

If she thought it had been difficult seeing him from the other side of the glass, it was nothing compared to what she saw then. The respirator made an unsettling whoosh-and-click noise that reminded her with every cycle that Sam was too weak to breathe on his own. The unflattering hospital lights gave Sam's skin an almost translucent look, and at such close proximity she couldn't help but feel her eyes drawn to the bulky bandages that covered his chest. Only hours ago, that chest had been cracked open, she reflected morbidly. The thought made her feel slightly nauseous.

Stepping forward, she reached out for his hand. Feeling his clammy skin against hers brought everything down on her in a rush and, suddenly not caring that her whole team was watching and that they were probably witnessing the display of affection with curiosity and surprise, she ran her other hand through his blond locks that seemed to have also lost all colour under the harsh lights, relishing being able to touch him after the agony of hours spent waiting.

Before she had time to even think about it, the words, "I'm sorry", were out of her mouth. What was she sorry for, she wondered? She was sorry that this had ever happened, that she had been unable to prevent it and that she loved him so much that seeing him like this was like having the air knocked out of her lungs and her feet swept out from under her all at the same time. "I'm so sorry Sam," she choked out.

With the confession, the first tear slipped out from the corner of her eye, and just like that the dam broke and her emotions, which she had been so careful to hide during the hot call and later with SIU, all came streaming out with a sudden violence. Lowering her head to his arm, she cried for the man she had nearly lost, and still could lose, and for the horrible cruelty of the world that had ever tried to take Sam Braddock away from her.