A/N: I know, I know. I have absolutely no business writing this story when my others are still yet uncomplete, but the muse be a fickle mistress yo. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and do not forget to leave a review on your way out! Thanks for reading!

In addition to mental skills needed for SRU, one also needed to have physical skills. Endurance, stamina, and a certain amount of toughness were all required, along with a level of pain tolerance. Sometimes an officer would be forced to take some blows and then keep going; it was the nature of the beast when seconds mattered and lives were on the line.

Sam Braddock had all the physical skills needed for SRU and then some, although the mental stuff needed work. His endurance was phenomenal, his stamina exceptional, and his pain tolerance was like nothing they'd ever seen. Of course, they didn't know that yet, but they were about to discover a whole other side to the mysterious Sam Braddock. Hey

Xxxx

"Ed, he's going through the alley!" Sam shouted into his comm, giving chase to the athletic young subject. Steadily, his feet pounded on the pavement, heart thumping in his chest. Rain drizzled from the sky, sliding down his face and into his eyes, though he hardly noticed.

Unexpectedly, upon turning a corner, Sam slammed into a metal ladder. His head bounced off the unforgiving steel, and his knees soon followed as he fell and slid. Sharply, his ankle jerked as he tried to right himself too late, and a sharp pain flared up his leg.

Grunting, Sam shoved back to his feet, and continued the chase, forcing himself not to limp. His focus narrowed to the youth, and soon the older man grew close enough for a flying tackle. The crack of his head against pavement made everyone wince, some subconsciously touching the backs of their heads.

"You okay Sam?" Greg inquired.

"Just fine sir. Subject secured."

Sam hooked metal handcuffs around the boy's wrists, tightening them and hauling him up. Pain coursed through his whole body, but he forced himself to march on. The Army itself, and Special Forces especially had taught him to finish every job, regardless of inconvenience or obstacles. So, he soldiered on.

An ambulance had arrived by the time Sam arrived with the subject. Greg and Ed stood close together, heads bent slightly as they discussed the case. Wordy and Jules led subjects of their own to waiting police cars, while Spike and Lou worked on putting awU equipment.

After Sam handed off his capture, Ed pounced.

"Sam, make sure EMS looks you over before you leave."

"Ed, I'm fine. Not a scratch on me."

"Nah buddy. We all heard how hard you fell. EMS will look you over."

Sam sighed and made his way towards the ambulance. An EMT stood at the open doors waiting for him, and Sam noted with devious surprise that the man wasn't their regular.

"Where's John?" Sam asked.

"Wife had a kid- I'm filling in," the man replied shortly, studying a sheet of paper on his clipboard.

"Mmm," Sam replied as the man began to take his vitals.

After a few minutes of silence, Sam made his move.

"Listen man. Could I get a favor? I got a date this evening and I'm not exactly hot on missing it. This girl I'm seeing, well let's just say she's really special and I don't want to disappoint her. Could I get a rain check?"

"Hmm," the man bit his lower lip, considering this. "If and only if you promise to go get checked out at a hospital or something."

"Sure thing man," Sam agreed, and flashed those pearly whites at the nice EMT.

Xxxxx

Ed was busy talking to Jules, explaining plans for the next day. Beyond his shoulder, something caught her attention, and she furrowed her brows in confusion.

"Wait, how is Sam done already?" she questioned in disbelief. Ed turned and saw the younger man shaking the hand of the EMT, before strolling over to where the SUV sat waiting.

"Sam, is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine. Clean bill of health," Sam reported guilelessly, a broad smile crossing his face.

"Mmhm. Well, hop in the truck, and I'll drive you back to the station."

Xxxxx

Greg was sorting through a pile of paperwork when Ed found him. Rapping his knuckles against the glass door of the briefing room, Ed ventured inside, plopping into a chair. Greg added his signature to something and glanced at him.

"Something on your mind?"

"It's Sam. We all heard, he took a hard fall today. I send him to get checked out by the EMTs, and 5 minutes later he's walking away smiling,practically licking a lollipop."

Greg leaned back, and considered this, wishing for a moment that their ex-soldier would make things easy on them, just once.

"You worried he's hiding an injury?"

"Mike wasn't there today, some new guy. He looked real young too, a little green. So yeah I'm thinking Sam didn't want us to know he's hurt, so he makes up some excuse, gets the EMT to let him go."

Greg processed this for a moment, tapping his pen against the table.

"What do you want to do?"

"I wanna kick his ass in training tomorrow, make him wish he was on IR."

Greg nodded, silently giving his approval. Sam was Ed's, to do with as he wished.

Xxxxxxx

Upon waking, Sam knew it was gonna be a rough day. His legs hurt like hell, his head pounded steady as a heartbeat and he was more than a little light-headed. Briefly, he considered taking the day, but his sense of duty to the team overrode the temptation.

Everyone was gearing up when he got into the locker room.

"We got a hot call?"

"Nope," Ed responded. "It's a training day today and I hope you had a good breakfast because it's gonna be a rough one."

Sam internally groaned, letting his head drop against his locker for a brief second. Training days sucked no matter what, but add feeling shitty on top of that, and he was already wishing he'd just stayed in bed.

"Problem with that Samo?"

"No, we're all good."

Xxxx

Concerned was maybe too mild a word for the emotion flowing through Ed. The team had been training for four hours under the hot Toronto sun, and he had heard nary a complaint from Sam. No matter how many sprints he assigned, how heavy a load they had to drag, how many hours they spent drilling in the shoot house, he soldiered on.

"Alright let's take a break! Take 20 and we're back into it," he shouted to the team. Relieved, they dragged their exhausted bodies over to coolers filled with water bottles. Sam lagged behind everyone else, ankle hurt so bad even he couldn't hide the limp. Gratefully he accepted the water bottle Wordy proffered.

"You doing okay Sam? You were moving kinda slow," Jules informed him.

"Didn't get a whole lotta sleep last night," he explained with a weary grin.

Ed shook his head at Sam's excuse, and focused on the clipboard in hand, marking off times and making notes. His attention was ripped away a second later, when several voices shouted Sam's name. Glancing back at the team, he saw Sam lying in the grass, motionless.

Xxxxx

Ed internally fumed in the hospital waiting room. They'd been twiddling their thumbs for an hour, and still no word from the doctors. He'd heard that no news was good news, but they were desperate for any kind of update. The sight of Sam lying in the grass wasn't one he'd forget for a while.

"Edward Lane?" A doctor stood at the doors to the triage area, visually scanning the room for her intended. Ed stood and walked over to her, shaking her hand firmly.

"What's the news on Constable Braddock?"

"He's doing good. He does have a severe ankle sprain and dislocation, along with a mild concussion, a head contusion, and strain in his knee muscles. None are life-threatening, and he should be fine in a couple weeks. Because of his concussion, I am admitting him overnight. Due to the physical nature of his job, he gets to be on leave for a week, and then light duty for the week after, and if things look good at his follow-up, he would move to full duty again."

The internal worry that had consumed Ed in the relatively short time they'd been waiting cooled with relief, before anger flared hot. Sam lied to the EMT, knowing full well he probably had a fucking concussion? He put the team at risk for stupid pride? What if they got called on a hot call before he passed out?

"That's good. Can we see him," he asked, indicating the other members of Team One scattered throughout the waiting room.

"Yes, you may. Follow me," the doctor smiled.

Xxxx

Sam woke to white walls and the most annoying beeping sound. Glancing around at the unfamiliar hospital, he searched his memories to recall this latest injury. Shifting around a little, relief and a certain sense of wariness shot through him as his team members came into view.

Ed entered first, everyone else following. The older man had an interesting expression of relieved but angry, everyone else wearing matching expressions. Sam winced, knowing whatever he'd done must have been pretty bad.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jules asked.

Sam smacked his lips a couple of times, attempting to clear away the cottonmouth that had built up.

"Sore? Kinda like I've been hit by a truck. What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Wordy probed gently.

"Chasing some kid down an alleyway, I think. Next thing I know I'm here."

"You ran into a scaffolding ladder, got yourself pretty banged up. This morning in training you collapsed, hence being here," Ed narrated, crossing his arms.

Memories started to float to the surface..him hitting the ladder, convincing the EMT to let him go home, feeling like he would die in training today. Green grass, and a white hospital room. Sam winced outwardly, studying the expressions of his colleagues. Most wore some mix of super glad you're okay, but I'm really ready to kill you myself. Ed looked more murderous than others, and Spike just looked relieved.

"I'm sorry for worrying you guys," Sam apologized, fingers fussing with the starched ivory blanket.

"Worrying us?! Out of all the things, that's what you're concerned about?! Not for lying about your health, not for refusing to ask for a break in training today, not for thinking you're Superman and can ignore any injury? God, you drive me crazy," Jules ranted, turning away from the man in the bed. Everyone looked a little surprised at her outburst, but no one objected. Guilt washed through Sam.

"Really, I didn't mean to cause such a fuss," he pleaded.

"We're not mad that you got hurt, we're mad you didn't trust us enough to be honest," Wordy informed him.

"It's not that I didn't trust you guys. This is hardly the first time I've hurt my ankle, I didn't think it was any big deal. Honest."

"And the possible concussion didn't worry you at all either?"

"I just thought I had a headache. I don't like the thought of not being able to be there for you guys when you need me the most."

"We need you at 100%. Which is why you're on IR for two weeks. After the talk we will be having, you'll have plenty of time to think about hiding injuries and taking unnecessary risks."

"C'mon Ed. I'm sure I'll be fine in two, three days most," Sam argued.

"Keep arguing and I'll make it a month."

"The team can't afford to have me out for two weeks. What if we make it a week?"

"Sam I'd quit while you were ahead, otherwise you won't see any action until Christmas."

"Yes sir. Copy that," Sam sighed.

Xxxx

"Why'd you do it Sam?" Ed wondered, taking a seat at the glass table of the briefing room. Sam leaned back in his chair, and folded his hands over his stomach.

"Team was more important, team needed me," Sam shrugged.

"We're not the only ones, though. There is an entire city out there that needs us too, and they need us to be 100%. When they are at their worst, we are at our best, and that is why we cannot have teammates hiding injuries, or taking unnecessary risks, or lying about things. Our job is dangerous, and when you do these things, you only make it exponentially more so."

"I understand, sir," Sam sat up and leaned forward, allowing his head to droop a little.

"You are not just a number, Sam. You are not just a weapon, and you are not just how many people you've taken out. We care about you, and that means you need to care about yourself. Listen to your body when it hurts, when it aches, and when it is exhausted. I know that's not at all what you're used to, but when you listen to your body, and do what it needs, that means we can better listen to you, and adjust for any flaws or gaps in the system."

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"I swear Sam, you ever lie to me about an injury again, and you will be on leave so fast your head will spin. I don't care if it's a gunshot wound or a paper cut. We clear?"

"Yes sir."

"That includes dishonesty to the EMTs, such as by telling them you have a hot date. Mike is now solely responsible for checking you over at scenes, and will be giving a full written report after each check-up. If there are any indications of you attempting to avoid treatment...well, I don't think I have to spell that out."

"No, sir."

"Good. You're dismissed," Ed stated. Sam stood, and began to leave.

"Oh, Samo. One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Glad to see you up and moving around."

"Thank you sir. Goodnight."

"Goodnight Sam."