Flashpoint fanfic : Whisper prayers into the dark
A kneejerk reaction to the first episode of the third season. Ed's pov of the aftermath. The title and cut text are from Bullets, by Tunng, purely because it happened to come on my music player while I was typing. Look it up. It's very pretty, and oddly appropriate for this ep.
Title : Whisper prayers into the dark
Rating : PG13ish, for angsty themes and a wee bit of bad language
Warning : post One Wrong Move, so basically one big spoiler for that ep
Word count : 1645
Ed sees it in slow motion - sees the landmine blow, sees Spike crumple like he's taken a hit - and he can't move. His mind has been racing, trying to find a way to solve this, and he's been going in circles, and now it feels like he's run full tilt into a wall. He stares at where Lew should be because he can't look at Spike huddled on the ground, Greg crouching beside him now, holding him up. When Greg calls him, it takes long seconds before he snaps out of it, says, "On it, boss", forces his limbs to move. He checks his team first, habit so ingrained it's almost reflex, because it's his job to know where they are and how they're doing. Sam is walking away, and Ed is pretty sure that whatever he's looking at, it's not a college campus. Jules has buried her face in Wordy's shoulder, and Wordy has managed to lift one hand to her head but he looks the way Ed feels.
Ed turns away from them, pulls out his phone and calls HQ.
"Winnie. We need EMTs out here right now, and call team four in, we got unexploded landmines here."
"Sure, you got it. Something happen to Spike?"
"Lew's dead." He hangs up.
He's got one more thing to do here before he can go after Sam, or even call Sophie. He's never seen the aftermath of a CR-38, but it's anti-tank, for fuck's sake, there is nothing under that building that he wants to see, but someone has to do it. And it's his job.
**
Lew's funeral is hard. Halfway through the eulogy Ed realises that he's holding Sophie's hand tight enough to hurt. When he relaxes his grip she squeezes back, gently, and holds on for the rest of the service.
The six of them stand together at the graveside, a tight group centered around Spike. Lew's mother hugs each of them, and whispers something to Spike that halts his broken attempt at apology and makes him hold on to her for a long moment of shared grief. When it's over they go back to the station together and sit in the conference room and don't talk. It's a long time before any of them are ready to leave.
The next day, Ed sees the news footage of Wilcox's funeral. When they cut to the crowd of treehuggers that have showed up for it, Ed puts his boot through the TV and his fist into the wall, because how can they fucking dare grieve for that scum when Lew is dead, Lew -- He can hear Clark behind him and he knows he's scaring his son but he can't stop, until Soph steps in front of him, and his rage is redirected into a desperate, clutching embrace because he can't feel the pain in his hand but her fear is too much to bear.
He dreams that night of Wilcox. In the dream he shoots the syringe out of Wilcox's hand, and his questions aren't a pleading stream of come on, buddy, lives are at stake here, the schematics, we need the schematics, please; Wilcox is pinned to the floor with Ed's gun to his head and he tells them about the landmines and Ed shouts into his radio and Lew is safe. Then the dream changes - Lew is already dead, so is Wilcox, and the twenty year old girl in Ed's hands is bleeding. The fierce satisfaction he wakes with makes him feel sick.
**
Two days later, the team goes back to a fortnight's training with the new guy who isn't Lew's replacement. It's far too soon for any of them to be back at work, but three teams can't do the work of four for very long, and the world won't stop turning for their bereavement any more than it does for anyone else. Ed knows that, but it still makes him angry.
That first fortnight is hell. Sam and Wordy bitch at each other constantly, nearly come to blows more than once. Jules plays peacekeeper, looking always just a second away from tears. Spike moves around in a daze, working on automatic and oblivious to everything not directly pertaining to the job. Greg puts up a good front on the professional side, but he's blaming himself for letting Lew anywhere near that bomb and the strain shows. The new team member, Joey Buckner, is a nice guy and good at his job, but he stays Buckner, stays on the outside of their fucked up, broken team. Ed does his job. He rides Sam and Wordy hard enough to distract them from each other, is gentle with Jules and patient with Spike, and spends a lot of time with Greg, keeping him from losing it completely. He does his best to hold his team together until they can do it themselves. It's a relief to go home every night and fall apart a little himself. It's a relief to know that at least one of his families is still safe and whole.
The first call they get, three weeks after Lew's death, Jules spots a gang tat on the kid's arm. Greg says, "Great, Jules, thanks. Lew, what do you know about --" and stops. Ed sees his head go down, sees Spike stiffen, and he doesn't have to turn to know that behind him Sam's face has gone blank and Wordy's hands have stopped moving. "Shit," Greg says, eerily calm. "Hey, Buckner, get me everything you can on that tattoo, call the precinct cops. Winnie, help him. I want the kid's name and I want to know what he saw. Jules?"
Her voice comes back strong and business-like, only the tiniest hitch giving away the fact that, just for a second, when no one can see, she's let herself forget to be tough.
They get through the day, get a happy ending that none of them take pride in. Life goes on. There are more days, some that end well, some that don't. The team get better, mostly. They stop blaming themselves, and each other; the fighting and tension of the first few weeks dissipates and leaves them even closer than they were before; it gets easier to say Lew's name. Spike freezes once, panics, scares the hell out of Ed, but Greg talks him down and it doesn't happen again. But Spike doesn't smile anymore, never jokes around, doesn't talk about Babycakes or tell wildly exaggerated stories. There are still sometimes odd holes in the conversation, even though Lew never talked much and Ed has stopped expecting to hear Spike. Buckner gets a nickname, gets invited to join them for drinks, but Spike won't use it, and won't come.
"Survivor's guilt," Sam says, and slams his rifle back into the rack with unnecessary force.
Ed nods. He doesn't want to bring up Sam's own guilt - the last time they talked about it was way back when Ed was still calling him Braddock and threatening to kick him off the team - but he needs to know. "You think he's gonna get over it?"
Sam grimaces, shakes his head helplessly. "I didn't."
"Doesn't go away, huh. But you learned to live with it." It's not quite a question, and as they watch Spike slam his locker and head out, Ed thinks it might be closer to a prayer.
**
Four months and twelve days after Lew's death (but who's counting?), they get a call about a suspicious package downtown. They've had three bomb calls since it happened, one real and two the result of paranoia sparked off by the PLC attacks. Ed had never thought he would miss Spike's please be a bomb! Babycakes, we're goin' out! routine, but its absence is yet another reminder of how much has changed.
The suspicious package turns out to be someone's forgotten suitcase, but the guy waving a gun around down at the waterfront is definitely real. He turns out to be a danger to himself more than anyone else, but there are a few tense moments before the gun is in Greg's hand and Wordy has the guy cuffed, and then they're just waiting for Sam and Jules to come back from their positions out on one of the docked boats. Ed has his back to the water when he hears a splash and Jules shouting, "Sam!" and his stomach lurches, because Sam can swim fine in normal circumstances but if he's fallen in it's in his full kit and that will get heavy fast. Ed's stripping his vest off even as he turns, and he sees Buckner doing the same, but before they make it to the water Sam comes up right beside the quay and grabs the edge. Greg hauls him up to solid ground and he sits there, cursing between pants for breath.
Ed laughs, because Sam, typical sniper, is still clutching his rifle. He hears Jules giggling over the radio, Wordy calling over, "Hey, Sam, how's the water?"
Spike comes out of the truck, a little wild-eyed and worried, catches sight of the bedraggled Sam and stops dead. "Sam-tastic!"
It's not quite normal, because Spike is only smiling instead of cackling madly and threatening to take pictures, but it's so close that for a second Ed expects to hear Lew's voice joining in a riff of good-natured teasing. He thinks maybe the others have that same second of dislocation, because there's the tiniest pause before Greg comes back with a crack about Sam's hair.
It's not quite normal, and maybe normal will have to be different now anyway. But it's cracked the withdrawn, professional shell that Spike has been living in and it's the first time Ed has dared to hope that Spike will be ok, eventually, that he won't be fucked up forever.
It's not quite normal, but it's normal enough.
Title : Whisper prayers into the dark
Rating : PG13ish, for angsty themes and a wee bit of bad language
Warning : post One Wrong Move, so basically one big spoiler for that ep
Word count : 1645
Ed sees it in slow motion - sees the landmine blow, sees Spike crumple like he's taken a hit - and he can't move. His mind has been racing, trying to find a way to solve this, and he's been going in circles, and now it feels like he's run full tilt into a wall. He stares at where Lew should be because he can't look at Spike huddled on the ground, Greg crouching beside him now, holding him up. When Greg calls him, it takes long seconds before he snaps out of it, says, "On it, boss", forces his limbs to move. He checks his team first, habit so ingrained it's almost reflex, because it's his job to know where they are and how they're doing. Sam is walking away, and Ed is pretty sure that whatever he's looking at, it's not a college campus. Jules has buried her face in Wordy's shoulder, and Wordy has managed to lift one hand to her head but he looks the way Ed feels.
Ed turns away from them, pulls out his phone and calls HQ.
"Winnie. We need EMTs out here right now, and call team four in, we got unexploded landmines here."
"Sure, you got it. Something happen to Spike?"
"Lew's dead." He hangs up.
He's got one more thing to do here before he can go after Sam, or even call Sophie. He's never seen the aftermath of a CR-38, but it's anti-tank, for fuck's sake, there is nothing under that building that he wants to see, but someone has to do it. And it's his job.
**
Lew's funeral is hard. Halfway through the eulogy Ed realises that he's holding Sophie's hand tight enough to hurt. When he relaxes his grip she squeezes back, gently, and holds on for the rest of the service.
The six of them stand together at the graveside, a tight group centered around Spike. Lew's mother hugs each of them, and whispers something to Spike that halts his broken attempt at apology and makes him hold on to her for a long moment of shared grief. When it's over they go back to the station together and sit in the conference room and don't talk. It's a long time before any of them are ready to leave.
The next day, Ed sees the news footage of Wilcox's funeral. When they cut to the crowd of treehuggers that have showed up for it, Ed puts his boot through the TV and his fist into the wall, because how can they fucking dare grieve for that scum when Lew is dead, Lew -- He can hear Clark behind him and he knows he's scaring his son but he can't stop, until Soph steps in front of him, and his rage is redirected into a desperate, clutching embrace because he can't feel the pain in his hand but her fear is too much to bear.
He dreams that night of Wilcox. In the dream he shoots the syringe out of Wilcox's hand, and his questions aren't a pleading stream of come on, buddy, lives are at stake here, the schematics, we need the schematics, please; Wilcox is pinned to the floor with Ed's gun to his head and he tells them about the landmines and Ed shouts into his radio and Lew is safe. Then the dream changes - Lew is already dead, so is Wilcox, and the twenty year old girl in Ed's hands is bleeding. The fierce satisfaction he wakes with makes him feel sick.
**
Two days later, the team goes back to a fortnight's training with the new guy who isn't Lew's replacement. It's far too soon for any of them to be back at work, but three teams can't do the work of four for very long, and the world won't stop turning for their bereavement any more than it does for anyone else. Ed knows that, but it still makes him angry.
That first fortnight is hell. Sam and Wordy bitch at each other constantly, nearly come to blows more than once. Jules plays peacekeeper, looking always just a second away from tears. Spike moves around in a daze, working on automatic and oblivious to everything not directly pertaining to the job. Greg puts up a good front on the professional side, but he's blaming himself for letting Lew anywhere near that bomb and the strain shows. The new team member, Joey Buckner, is a nice guy and good at his job, but he stays Buckner, stays on the outside of their fucked up, broken team. Ed does his job. He rides Sam and Wordy hard enough to distract them from each other, is gentle with Jules and patient with Spike, and spends a lot of time with Greg, keeping him from losing it completely. He does his best to hold his team together until they can do it themselves. It's a relief to go home every night and fall apart a little himself. It's a relief to know that at least one of his families is still safe and whole.
The first call they get, three weeks after Lew's death, Jules spots a gang tat on the kid's arm. Greg says, "Great, Jules, thanks. Lew, what do you know about --" and stops. Ed sees his head go down, sees Spike stiffen, and he doesn't have to turn to know that behind him Sam's face has gone blank and Wordy's hands have stopped moving. "Shit," Greg says, eerily calm. "Hey, Buckner, get me everything you can on that tattoo, call the precinct cops. Winnie, help him. I want the kid's name and I want to know what he saw. Jules?"
Her voice comes back strong and business-like, only the tiniest hitch giving away the fact that, just for a second, when no one can see, she's let herself forget to be tough.
They get through the day, get a happy ending that none of them take pride in. Life goes on. There are more days, some that end well, some that don't. The team get better, mostly. They stop blaming themselves, and each other; the fighting and tension of the first few weeks dissipates and leaves them even closer than they were before; it gets easier to say Lew's name. Spike freezes once, panics, scares the hell out of Ed, but Greg talks him down and it doesn't happen again. But Spike doesn't smile anymore, never jokes around, doesn't talk about Babycakes or tell wildly exaggerated stories. There are still sometimes odd holes in the conversation, even though Lew never talked much and Ed has stopped expecting to hear Spike. Buckner gets a nickname, gets invited to join them for drinks, but Spike won't use it, and won't come.
"Survivor's guilt," Sam says, and slams his rifle back into the rack with unnecessary force.
Ed nods. He doesn't want to bring up Sam's own guilt - the last time they talked about it was way back when Ed was still calling him Braddock and threatening to kick him off the team - but he needs to know. "You think he's gonna get over it?"
Sam grimaces, shakes his head helplessly. "I didn't."
"Doesn't go away, huh. But you learned to live with it." It's not quite a question, and as they watch Spike slam his locker and head out, Ed thinks it might be closer to a prayer.
**
Four months and twelve days after Lew's death (but who's counting?), they get a call about a suspicious package downtown. They've had three bomb calls since it happened, one real and two the result of paranoia sparked off by the PLC attacks. Ed had never thought he would miss Spike's please be a bomb! Babycakes, we're goin' out! routine, but its absence is yet another reminder of how much has changed.
The suspicious package turns out to be someone's forgotten suitcase, but the guy waving a gun around down at the waterfront is definitely real. He turns out to be a danger to himself more than anyone else, but there are a few tense moments before the gun is in Greg's hand and Wordy has the guy cuffed, and then they're just waiting for Sam and Jules to come back from their positions out on one of the docked boats. Ed has his back to the water when he hears a splash and Jules shouting, "Sam!" and his stomach lurches, because Sam can swim fine in normal circumstances but if he's fallen in it's in his full kit and that will get heavy fast. Ed's stripping his vest off even as he turns, and he sees Buckner doing the same, but before they make it to the water Sam comes up right beside the quay and grabs the edge. Greg hauls him up to solid ground and he sits there, cursing between pants for breath.
Ed laughs, because Sam, typical sniper, is still clutching his rifle. He hears Jules giggling over the radio, Wordy calling over, "Hey, Sam, how's the water?"
Spike comes out of the truck, a little wild-eyed and worried, catches sight of the bedraggled Sam and stops dead. "Sam-tastic!"
It's not quite normal, because Spike is only smiling instead of cackling madly and threatening to take pictures, but it's so close that for a second Ed expects to hear Lew's voice joining in a riff of good-natured teasing. He thinks maybe the others have that same second of dislocation, because there's the tiniest pause before Greg comes back with a crack about Sam's hair.
It's not quite normal, and maybe normal will have to be different now anyway. But it's cracked the withdrawn, professional shell that Spike has been living in and it's the first time Ed has dared to hope that Spike will be ok, eventually, that he won't be fucked up forever.
It's not quite normal, but it's normal enough.