Sanctitude - "Without a Trace" fic - PG

[tigriswolf]

Title: Sanctitude

Fandom: “Without a Trace”

Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.

Warnings: spoilers for season one’s “In Extremis”

Pairings: nada

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 530
Point of view: third

Notes: I’ve only seen the first twenty or so episodes, plus a handful from various seasons I couldn’t pick out if my life depended on it.

Dedication: smilla02, as ever a goddess

 

            Sometimes, he still thinks of that poor man, Anwar Samir.  Trying to do the right thing, shot down by a man doing his job without all the facts—Martin hates himself for his own bias and prejudice brought into that case. 

            What bothers him the most is that he’d won. He’d talked Samir down—hell, Samir didn’t need to be talked down. He was confused and lost, but not dangerous. He was trying to save lives, like he’d always done.

            Just after, the media tried to demonize Samir. His actions helped them with that, but Martin crusaded tirelessly for days, proving with all the evidence the team had that Samir was not a terrorist. In fact, he was a good guy, a hero who got screwed from so many angles that he couldn’t see the way out.

            Martin feels guilty for his thoughts, his beliefs during the search for Samir. He’d written the man off as a terrorist without all the facts—hell, without even half the facts. He’d condemned Samir the instant he’d learned the man was Saudi.

            And of the team, Martin was the only one who met Samir, who talked to him, who looked into Samir’s eyes. Ironic, in a bitterly bittersweet way.

            Martin knows he did the best he could, all he could. He knows that.  But he still hates himself. He still blames himself for failing, for getting a good man killed. If he himself had been calmer, more prepared to listen, hadn’t already decided Samir was guilty—the what-if’s swirl around him, mocking him, and he can’t sweep them away, can’t ignore them.

            The look in Samir’s eyes… someone was listening to him, hearing him… believing him. Martin believed him. Face to face with Sami—Anwar. Face to face with Anwar, Martin couldn’t’ deny the truth.

            Anwar deserved better, so much better.

            Martin sometimes thinks he hates Jack, but he’s never fully followed that thought, even in the sanctuary of his room at night. He’s completely aware of the split-second decisions demanded by their job, and knows Jack dislikes himself for a number of things he’ll never tell Martin about.

            No one blames Martin for what happened. No one blames Jack or the gunman, either. Most people blame Anwar, if anyone even thinks of him anymore. A Saudi waving a gun and yelling about a bomb—what’s to consider? Especially in New York.

            Martin doesn’t often go to church. He only went a few times as a child, with Mom. Usually because Dad made him, to keep Mom happy. He sat still only because he knew Dad would punish him if Mom complained. Martin hated the fire and brimstone sermons but he did enjoy the choir.

            Since growing up and moving out, taking charge of his life, Martin’s gone to church a handful of times. He sat through it out of obligation, usually on Easter or Christmas, felt it was his duty.

            But after Anwar, that first Sunday, he found himself in a sanctuary and praying for the man he failed. He listened to the choir, eyes closed, and felt the guilt heavy on his soul.

            He still thinks of Anwar Samir with regret.

 

Comments

[smilla02.livejournal.com]

YAY! You wrote a Martin fic *snuggles*. It is lovely and it delves well into Martin's toughts. I've loved In Extremis so much at the time of my first viewing because it didn't give resolution on nothing, everybody did their job, and everybody lost. It was so sad and what a brilliant writing. If I watch how WAT has declined compared to those episodes I want to throw a hissy fit, that is if I still cared for canon.
Thanks for the fic and for the dedication *loves*

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

I really liked "In Extremis" until the ending, which angered me. I adored Anwar. And then they killed him. *sniff*