Okay, so I've been rewatching all of the seasons of Flashpoint, and finally decided to write an alternate ending to 2.18 "Behind the Blue Line." Sam seemed pretty emotional, so I find it hard to believe that one conversation with Ed was all that it took to pull him back from the edge. Hence this angsty, dramatic little fic.

This is my first time writing for Flashpoint (which, disclaimer, I don't own!), so please be kind if you review. New chapter up soon!

"I don't belong here."

Sam's words lingered heavily in Ed's mind even as he sat next to Greg at their favorite bar, the beer in front of him half gone. He sighed for what felt like the millionth time since they'd clocked out, and Parker sent him a sidelong glance.

"What's on your mind, Ed?"

"Did I make the right call?"

Now it was Greg's turn to sigh. "You can't second guess yourself in this job, Eddie, you know that."

"I know, I know. I just keep seeing the look on Sam's face." Ed paused to take a sip of his drink. "I keep wondering whether he was right, whether we should have given him another chance…"

"Eddie, you did exactly what you were supposed to do. Sam would have been shot if you didn't."

Ed turned guiltily to his boss. "He cleaned out his locker, Greg."

"He's had a rough day, that's all," Greg shrugged, although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as Ed. "We've all felt like throwing in the towel at one point or another. Give him a couple of days to cool off."

Ed nodded in acquiescence, though the knot of unease that had settled in his stomach didn't ease in the slightest.

Midnight found Ed driving around aimlessly, still too amped up to go home. With any luck, Sophie and Clark would be asleep already and he wouldn't be missed. The last thing he wanted was to bring home a ton of negative energy and ruin their evening as well.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

His phone vibrated on the seat next to him, and he switched on the speakerphone. "Hello?"

"Ed?" Jules' shaky, quiet voice sounded in his car.

Ed frowned at the tearful tone of her voice, and quickly pulled the car over so he could give her his full attention. "Jules? You okay?"

"Ed, I – oh god!" She broke down suddenly, her sobs sounding loudly in Ed's ear, making his heart beat speed up sharply.

"Jules, what happened? Where are you?"

He could hear her making a significant effort to pull herself together, though her words were still tight and breathy. "I'm at Sam's."

Ed's frown deepened, his heart now pounding fiercely. One after another, horrific scenarios flashed through his mind as he struggled to remain objective. "What happened?" he asked again.

"I just wanted to check on him, make sure he was okay. He brushed me off at the station, so I decided to come here," Jules explained, her voice strained from crying. "When I got here, no one answered the door, so I let myself in with the spare key. The place is empty, but so are the two twelve packs in the fridge."

Ed closed his eyes as Jules paused briefly. "Was his bike there, Jules?"

"No," she hiccupped. "But Ed – "

"Jules, don't worry about it. We'll call the rest of the team and find him before he does anything stupid like cause a wreck or get himself arrested."

"Ed!" Jules' now frustrated voice cut through his rambling. "I think that's the least of our worries. I checked his closet and his fatigues are missing."

Ed swore under his breath. Sam was obviously teetering on the edge of a very dark abyss right now, wandering around drunk in his military uniform. They needed to find him now. "His uniform was gone?"

"Yeah," Jules confirmed quietly, her voice sounding tired. "And so was his gun."