Clearing the Way

by Ihket

Someone wants Jim and Blair out of the way...

Clearing the Way.

"Sandburg!" Jim's voice boomed through the bullpen.

Blair, perched at the edge of Brown's desk, stopped his conversation
with the detective and looked up. "Hey, J--" His greeting faded when he
saw the unrestrained rage on the Sentinel's face.

"You son of a bitch!" In three long strides, Jim closed the difference
between them, pulling his arm back as he delivered a powerful blow to
Blair's jaw.

The anthropologist tumbled backward with the force of the blow, landing in a tangled heap behind the desk. "What the hell-?" The rest of the bullpen had been stunned into silence and temporary inaction allowing Jim to grab the observer by the neck and slam him into the wall behind Henri's desk.

"When were you going to tell me?" Jim shouted punctuating the question by increasing the pressure around the young man's neck. "When?"

Blair tried to drag in enough air to speak but with Jim's hands tightening around his throat he could barely get enough to stay conscious, at least now Henri and Simon were trying to help him by pulling Jim away. They were trying, they weren't succeeding and Blair was getting past the point of caring as his head again connected painfully with the outer wall of the office. Rafe and Joel had now joined in the effort to remove the enraged detective from his partner before the young man was killed. Blackness began to descend upon the observer as he felt the pressure around his throat disappear, he thought briefly about trying to breathe as he fell into the void.

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

Those frantic words penetrated the red haze shrouding the sentinel's consciousness and he ceased struggling against the three men that held him. He took in the scene around him with fresh eyes and an overwhelming fear gripped his stomach threatening to make him sick. His gaze was morbidly rooted to the still form of his partner as Rafe tried to coax air into the young man. Instantly his senses were wide open cataloging his guides condition, the slow weak heart beat, the tight shallow breathing, the sickly blue white pallor, the hand shaped bruises on his neck, the purpling bruise on his jaw and the unmistakable scent of blood. "Oh my God, Oh My God." He whispered over and over quietly. He had done this. He had tried to kill his partner, his best friend. He had wanted to do it. But why?

Simon Banks turned on his best detective with fury in his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted. "What the hell were you doing?" Jim didn't respond. "Brown, Taggart I want him booked, get him out of my sight and don't forget to read the son-of-a-bitch his rights!"

Joel turned Jim away from his partner and cuffed his hands behind his back, he and Brown led the detective quietly from the bullpen. Neither man could believe what they had just witnessed and their hearts were heavy with the knowledge that they had seen the end of something special.

Part Two.

Captain Simon Banks paced the waiting room of Cascade general with great strides, struggling silently with the morning's events. He vaguely wondered if he were sill at home in bed caught in the grip of a nightmare. God how he wished that were true. It would mean he weren't at the hospital waiting to find out how much damage had been inflicted on the young observer he had developed a grudging respect for. It would mean his best detective and good friend weren't back at the station being booked for assault and attempted murder. It would mean that two very important lives had not just gone to hell. He would take a lifetime of nightmares over this any day.

The paramedics had to work hard to stabilize Blair after they had arrived finally having to intubate him to re establish his airway. It was a frightening sight; one that Simon had seen before and hoped never to see again. The kid could have died and for a minute Simon thought he had.

What had gone wrong with them? That question had been playing in his mind since the whole mess began, according to Brown and Taggart, Jim wasn't talking and he didn't know if Blair would have the answers when he woke up. What could possibly make the younger detective turn on his partner, make him want to kill his partner? Simon had no doubt that was his intent, he had never seen that kind of rage in Jim's face before. It was a look of murder that chilled the captain to the bone. He had not been looking into the eyes of his friend, he had not been looking into the face of a man he even knew. There was more than the obvious that was very wrong. What happened would never happen to these men, Jim would never turn on his partner like that, it would never happen. It had happened though, something somewhere had broken and unleashed a monster inside of James Ellison.

"Captain Banks?"

Simon turned to see the doctor standing at the entryway. "How is he?" He closed the distance between them in two long strides.

"Right now he's critical but stable." Dr Sayer saw the Captains expression fall. "That sounds worse than it actually is Captain, though his injuries are serious he's sustained a skull fracture, right now the swelling isn't severe and we're trying to keep it that way. Our biggest concern is the trauma to his neck and throat, the swelling there is a big problem and we cant maintain his airway without a tube. We've got him on meds to help reduce the swelling but it will take a bit of time for it to go down. As far as we can tell there was no other damage to his throat other than some severe bruising. His jaw is bruised but not broken and he had a number of deep bruises on his back and shoulders. Who ever was responsible for his injuries had to have been very strong to do that kind of damage. I know all of this sounds terrible Captain but he's a healthy young man and none of his injuries are life threatening. The respirator will breathe for him until the swelling obstructing his airway goes down. Like I said the swelling associated with the skull fracture is not severe and we'll keep it that way. He wasn't oxygen deprived to the point we need to worry about brain damage from that. He'll pull through this, it's just going to take some time."

Simon nodded. "Can I see him?"

The doctor smiled at him. "Of course, but only for a few minutes, we have him in ICU now, hopefully tomorrow we'll be able to move him to a regular room." She led the captain out of the waiting room. "You know where it is, room six. Tell the nurses station I've authorized the visit and follow all their instructions. I have other patients to check on, but I will be up a little later." She turned to leave and stopped facing him again. "Is Detective Ellison out of town, I'm surprised he's not here."

Before Simon could answer her beeper went off and she bid him a quick farewell. The captain was relieved, he didn't think he could have told her or anyone else that Jim Ellison was the one who put his partner in the hospital. The elevator doors slid open and Simon stepped in, leaning heavily against the side of the car he closed his eyes and prayed once again that this was only a dream.

Part Three.

Jim stared blankly at the wall of his empty holding cell, being a cop they had separated him from the general population until his arraignment. "Oh my God." He whispered. He was going to be arraigned for the attempted murder of Blair Sandburg and for the life of him he didn't know how it had happened. He didn't know where the blinding rage had come from or why it had suddenly vanished. He had tried to strangle his best friend and he had felt an intense pleasure listening to the kid's heartbeat frantically and then slow. The thought of it now made him ill, it wasn't him, he wasn't in control. "Who else was it then Jim?" he heard Blair's voice ring in his head accusing him. "No one else was there man."

Jim let out a long frustrated sigh and leaned back against the cold concrete wall. He couldn't believe what he had done, he'd shattered the life of his partner and friend and taken himself out as well. There was a crushing sense of loss sweeping over him, he had destroyed his existence, ripped apart the fabric of his life and he couldn't even explain why. He didn't know, he honestly didn't know.

The sentinel closed his eyes against the incessant pounding in his skull, the pain had been with him all day and showed no signs of ending anytime soon. Even with the pain dials turned all the way down he was at the edge of physical agony. The headache had been intensifying all morning until he'd attacked Blair. As he thought about it Jim caught a fragment of a thought, more of a realization, he was in no pain during the attack. Before the sentinel had a chance to wrap his mind around that fact the pressure inside his skull increased dramatically and he screamed before the pain swept him into the cover of darkness.

Part Four.

Simon had been at the hospital for almost twelve hours, his heart and mind were heavy with doubt and remorse. He was also angrier than he had been in a very long time. "Dear God." he thought. "What happened?" there was no explanation, nothing he could find within his heart or soul to reconcile the fact that he was sitting at the bedside of Blair Sandburg staring at the still, pale face, staring at the bruised neck and wondering what he was going to do and say when the young man woke up. "God damnit to hell!" he cursed silently. "When's it going to be enough? When are you going to leave this kid alone?" his silent anger threatened to spill over and be quiet no longer. There had to be a reason for this, he'd known Jim Ellison a long time and there was no way the man he knew would ever do anything like this. No way in hell. "So what then?" Simon asked himself. "Why did it happen? Something had to be going on, someone else had to be involved. The detective, no the man he knew and called friend would never brutally attack anyone let alone his partner without provocation or out side influence.

Simon knew with grim certainty that the real crime had yet to be solved, he knew he had nothing to go on and an investigation on Ellison's behalf would be seen as misguided loyalty to one of his own. Jim had attacked and tried to kill Blair infront of a room full of witnesses. Case closed. There was more to it than that and Simon knew it, now he just needed to prove it.

His time with Blair was up and he left the cubicle quietly, he pulled out his cell phone once he hit the parking lot. He had some calls to make. Before he could dial the phone it rang. "Banks." He answered.

"Captain-."

"What is it Brown?" he asked impatiently.

"Ellison is being taken to the hospital. He was found in his cell after Officer Rhodes heard him scream. His heart had stopped sir, they don't know why."

"Oh Jesus." The captain swore, if he had any doubts about Ellison's innocence they were gone. "I'm still at the hospital. I'll check it out. Brown I want you and a forensics team to go to the loft. I want Rafe and Connor to retrace Jim's day before he came in and I want a forensics team on his desk and in the break room and anywhere else he could have come into contact with anything. I want Taggart here in twenty minutes!"

"Captain?" Brown's voice was hesitant.

"Just do it!" Simon barked into the phone. "I want case files searched I want the name of everyone who would have reason to take down Sandburg and Ellison and I want it yesterday!" without waiting for a response he hung up on the younger Detective and headed back to the emergency room.

Part Five.

There was silence in the bullpen as the members of Major Crimes came together to listen to what Henri Brown had to say. The days events had been trying for all of them, they had witnessed something none of them thought they would ever see and it had shaken the team to its very foundation. They had tried unsuccessfully to focus on the jobs they were assigned to do, each in their own way trying to come to terms with the images of the attack that were still too fresh in their minds. There was no reason to what had happened and each of them knew it.

"Listen up everyone. I just talked tot he Captain and we all have new jobs to do, it's obvious he thinks there is something more going on here and I'm inclined to believe him, I suspect most of you were already thinking along those lines as well." Brown cleared his throat, the strain of the day had worn on him especially hard. He had a front row seat to Ellison's attempted execution of the Observer and he wasn't going to be getting the visage of Blair's wide terrified eyes out of his head anytime soon. He shook his head to clear away the image, now was definitely not the time to loose his focus. "Megan you and Rafe need to retrace Jim's steps today. Joel Captain Banks wants you at the hospital. Rhonda Simon needs case files pulled, get Rafferty in here to go over them with you and pull he names of anyone who they busted that's been recently released from prison. Call Davis in forensics and have them go over Jim's desk and the break room and anywhere else they can think of to check where he may have been exposed to anything…. Yeah I know it's vague but Simon wants this and right now we have Zero to go on. I'm going to be at the loft with another team and see if we cant get anything from there."

No questions were asked, they all took their assignments and got to work. Not a one had confirmation that this had been a deliberate attack on two of their own but not a one of them doubted that's exactly what it was.

Joel Taggart grabbed his jacket and headed tot he parking garage, he was angry, as he knew his fellow officers were. Someone or someone's had tried to take down two of his friends and they had done it in a way to make each man suffer as much as possible. It was sadistic and he silently wanted to be alone with the bastard responsible when they caught him. They would catch him, they knew now and it would only be a matter of time before they found whoever was responsible for this. It was time he returned the favor these men had done him, and he would be watching their backs for a change. "Watching their backs." He said quietly. "If Jim dies…" he left the thought unfinished, it was a concept he wouldn't entertain. Ellison would pull through, both men would pull through, they had to.

"Hey Taggart." Detective Johnson from robbery called out as he fell into step beside the former Bomb Squad captain. "What's this about Ellison attacking his partner?"

"Just what you heard Dave, Detective Ellison assaulted Blair Sandburg in the bullpen." Joel said tersely, he did not like the man walking beside him, as far as he knew no one did. Johnson seemed to get a perverse gleam in his eye every time an officer went down. The man was a nut case and Joel wondered how in the hell he had ever made it through the academy, let alone become a detective?

"Tough break." Johnson said lightly as if it were no big deal. "Guess there will be an opening then."

It took every ounce of restraint within Joel Taggart's soul not to put the asshole talking to him through the nearest wall. The glare he leveled at the younger man was enough to let him know he'd overstepped his bounds and Johnson beat a hasty retreat. There was more than one thing not right about the man and Joel eyed him all the way to the exit. They were investigating with nothing to go on and Joel thought that maybe they needed to look within as well as without.

Part Six.

Simon Banks found himself for the second time in 14 hours pacing the confines of the ER waiting room. He felt caged, bound, impotent. He was unable to do anything more than he's already done for his men until he found out about Ellison's condition. This was not a position he was accustomed to and every fiber of his being screamed against it. He was the Captain damnit and he was expected to get results. How could you get results when you didn't know what you were searching for? He let out a weary sigh, his men and women would find out what was behind the attack on his man, they had to. He had complete faith in the people that made up his team.

"Simon?"

The police captain turned to see Joel Taggart standing behind him. "Joel, tell me what happened at the station. What happened to Jim?"

"We honestly don't know Simon. He was in cardiac arrest when they found him. That's all I know and I'll take it there has been no word on him." Joel's voice was tight with the strain of the day.

"No." Simon shook his head. "Not a Goddamn peep, all I know is he was alive when they brought him in!"

"How about the kid, how's he doing?" Joel was hoping for some good news, they'd had enough of the bad to last a lifetime. The defeated look on the captain's face told him he wasn't going to get it.

"The same, he's holding his own but he still hasn't come to." He began to pace again out of frustration. "Damnit Joel! Do you have any idea how Blair's going to feel when he wakes up?" his voice was rising in volume as he continued. "After everything those two have been through, this…. Jesus! Jim attacked him, even if we can prove he didn't do it of his own free will, how's the kid ever going to trust him again? Jim nearly killed him for Christ's sake!"

"Simon! Simon!" Joel held up a hand to quiet his friend. "Give them both some credit. We'll find the truth here and they'll deal with it. The two of them are an amazing pair and they will be fine…hell yeah it's going to take time, but they'll get trough it like they have with everything else."

"When's it going to be too much, Joel?"

"I hope to God never Simon." He took hold of Simon's arm and led him out of the waiting room. "We need to talk and we need a little less company to do it."

Simon was too tired to argue so he allowed himself to be led out beyond the door of the ER. "What is it Joel?" he asked as they were safely out side and away from other ears.

"As I was leaving I had an interesting conversation with Dave Johnson about Jim attacking Blair." He paused not completely sure of what he was going to say next. "Simon I think we should look within the department as well. Dave said and I quote 'Tough break, I guess there will be an opening then' he sounded happy about it! I wanted to punch the guy!"

"You didn't did you?" the glare his colleague sent in his direction told Simon all he needed to know. It was true Ellison wasn't the most popular guy in the world and there was even more resentment of Sandburg's observer status. He hated to admit it but what Joel was saying was plausible. "Okay Joel I want you to check it out…. Discreetly and let me know if you come up with anything."

Joel nodded "will do Simon, and keep us posted from here will ya?"

"You'll know right after I know." He assured as he turned to re enter the hospital and continue his wait. "I hope someone finds something soon, I've got a feeling that neither of them is supposed to be alive right now." He added silently.

Part Seven.

Shadows, whispers, nothingness and pain. His world his life consisted of only this. Anger, fury, hatred, and violence all companions to his memory. Too many questions and a lifetime of two few answers, but only one wish "Just let me die."

He floated somewhere between his corporeal life and the next, not caring what lie ahead and desperately not wanting to go back. The darkness was his home now and he was safe here, only disconnected notions to fill him, but no real sensations. He could not be touched, he could not be hurt he could be simply nothing. Shameful coward, he knew to leave like that. It was the way it was. "Just let me die."

Why were they fighting for him? Why did they need for him to live, he didn't want it. Living hurt and he was so tired of the pain. He had done the unspeakable and hurt another, a friend, a brother. "God, just let me die!"

His mind screamed his wish, his heart, what had been left of it, cried out for justice. The justice he knew he deserved. His soul wept a marrow deep sorrow and remorse. "Let me go."

Still he lived, his heart still beat, blood still coursed freely through his veins in open defiance of his will. He lived, he was breathing, his heart would not be still, it continued on pounding the steady rhythm of life. "Why?" no answer came, into the world of nothing he traveled his question echoing through the darkness. "Why?"

A voice carried his answer, a familiar warm and welcome sound met his ears, something he could not be hearing but yet he was.

"The world you remember is an illusion. Your crime was not your own. Nothing has been lost, unless you choose to let it go."

The voice brought the glow of light into his world, no longer blind to the truth, he knew there would be no justice if his wish were granted. His hands his strength had been the tool of another. It had been the realization he'd come to before he lost his grip on the light. His anger resurfaced, polarized this time to what it had been earlier. His fury was righteous and his will changed. The harm would be answered in force, he was no one's pawn. He raged to live, to make right what had been done to them. His guide would be avenged, they would both be avenged.

Part Eight.

Simon listened to the doctor's words in disbelief, Jim had been drugged. With a combination of hallucinogens and behavior modifiers that baffled even the doctors working on him. The drugs had caused his heart failure and they were not sure he would pull through. "Would this combination have caused him to become violent?"

"Absolutely!" the doctor said with out hesitation. "It altered his brain chemistry, Captain banks we're looking at more than a one time exposure here, there are indications of long term usage here. Some of these drugs take time to work through a person's body and others given in too high a dosage can cause permanent muscle damage. I'm not indicating that Detective Ellison took these on purpose, there is no High involved here. They would have been used to alter his behavior with the right stimuli. You have a situation here captain, your detective has been poisoned."

"Thank you Dr Franklin. I need a copy of the Tox screen you've done and I'm going to have guards on Ellison and Sandburg from now on. They are not to be removed under any circumstances, I assure you they will not interfere with your treatment, but they will be there." Simon asserted himself needlessly.

"I would expect nothing else, I would say that the safety of your men is a top priority for both of us." Dr Franklin agreed.

"When can I see Jim."

"Give us another half an hour to get him settled, we'll be keeping him in CCU until his heart can keep an even and consistent rhythm." The doctor looked at his chart. "Seventh floor room three."

"Thank you again." Simon turned to leave the building, calls needed to be made now that they finally had something to go on. He called Joel Taggart first. "Joel, Jim was drugged. I'm having the Tox report faxed to Serena. I need you to start looking for drug connections, this stuff was pretty specialized. Look into drug cases the people in question were involved with, this was a special brew, that has to give us something."

"Can do Simon." Joel replied. "Did they tell you if Jim will be alright?"

Simon took a deep breath. "They don't know Joel. They Just don't know."
Simon ended the call and made the same call to the bullpen, telling Rhonda and Rafferty to look for the same things. God help them if they didn't find a connection soon.

Simon trudged wearily back into the hospital, unaware of the scrutiny he was receiving from the occupants of a black sedan just fifty feet away.

Part Nine.

Blair Sandburg hurt…everywhere. There was no way to get around that fact, as it was the first thing he'd become aware of. The second thing he'd become aware of was the rigid pressure in his throat and he panicked. Memories came flooding back, Jim hitting him and the cold rage he saw in his sentinel's eyes as he was being strangled. Jim had tried to kill him and that memory brought with it a fear the young man had never known fueling the panic he felt from the pressure still bearing down on his throat. Blair tried to escape but his body betrayed him, his arms and legs were too slow to respond to his commands and it left him open and vulnerable to the man who wanted him dead.

"Blair! Blair!"

A familiar voice penetrated the waking nightmare he was living, the voice commanded him to still, the voice assured him he was okay, that he was safe. The voice asked him to open his eyes and he obeyed. Slowly a dark form swam in to focus. He tried to speak his name, panic flared anew in him as his voice failed blocked by a hard pain. He looked at Simon begging with his eyes for a reprieve from the torture.

The pain and fear Simon saw in the younger man's eyes rattled him badly. He knew this would happen, he knew the observer would be afraid. The young man had every right to be. Blair had been through a lot and he was a strong a man as Simon knew, but he had never been violently attacked by the man he thought of as his best friend and Blessed Protector. "Blair take it easy now and listen." The anthropologist's eyes locked onto Simon, and the older man had to check a shudder that threatened to shake him. He saw a myriad of emotions in the depth of the azure eyes but only one question. "Why?"

"Why indeed?" Simon thought bitterly. He let the thought pass, he would answer that question later, if and when he could. "Blair I want you to listen to me, hear what I have to say. Do you trust me?" he received as much of a nod as Blair could muster for an answer. "First of all you're going to be fine. You're throat is swollen and that's why you're on a ventilator. They will take you off it when the swelling has gone down enough for you to breathe on your own." Blair nodded again and brought a shaking hand up to his head. "Yeah, you have a bit of a skull fracture too." If he could have he was sure the younger man would have groaned, as it was Simon saw the slight roll of his eyes. "Look Blair you need to know something. Jim was drugged, we are pretty sure that's why he attacked you." Simon was amazed at the concern he saw in the observer's face, all traces of the earlier fear had vanished once Simon had said the word 'Drugged'. Blair made a writing gesture with his hand and Simon pulled out his ever-present notebook and handed it to the young man.

WILL HE BE OKAY?

Simon hesitated but only briefly. The kid deserved the truth. "It doesn't look good Blair. The drugs in his system caused him to go into cardiac arrest. He's alive and holding on, but they just don't know if there has been any damage to his heart." He was taken off guard by the rare anger he saw in Blair's eyes, a fury he'd never seen blazed within their depths.

WHO DID THIS?

"We don't know, but I have everyone working on it." Simon said and hoped he now would not be making a hollow promise. "We will find them Sandburg and they will pay." His last word held the private unacknowledged desire that they would be taken down hard.

I'M HOLDING YOU TO THAT SIMON.

Before Simon had a chance to respond the doctor came in to check on her patient. "It's good to see you awake Mr. Sandburg." Blair nodded slightly in response but gave the doctor no more acknowledgement, his gaze was still firmly fixed on the Police Captain. Simon knew he was waiting for a response, he was waiting for a promise. "We will find them." He reiterated.

"We're going to do a quick exam Captain. If you'll step outside for a moment, you can come back when we're done." Dr Sayer politely pointed to the door.

Blair shook his head a vehemently as he could and scribbled furiously on the paper.

STAY WITH JIM, I'M FINE. HE'LL NEED SOMEONE THERE WHEN HE WAKES UP!

"Okay Sandburg." Simon replied and turned to leave, at the door he faced the young man again. "I meant what I said, we WILL catch them."

I KNOW.

Part Ten.

Three days had passed, Blair was off the ventilator and finally able to get his feet underneath him. He ached all over but the intense pain that had been plaguing him had abated to manageable levels but he still had no voice and that among many other things was frustrating him fiercely.

They had still not allowed him to see Jim and the separation was making him crazy. He needed to be near his friend, he needed to offer what comfort, what protection he could. It had become painfully obvious during his discussions with Simon that Jim was the primary target in this situation. The men and women of major crimes were building a case against a fellow officer, but they lacked the one thing that could assure his sentinel's safety. Evidence. Jim was still very much at risk, his condition had improved steadily since he was brought in twelve hours after Blair had arrived. Jim had not regained consciousness and Blair worried that his friend was waiting for something. Jim did not know it wasn't his fault. He did not know he had been drugged. He did not know that someone else had manipulated the situation. He did not know that someone wanted him out of the picture one way or another. Without that knowledge the sentinel was unable to protect himself and the mantle fell to Blair but he was being kept away.

He decided enough was enough, he was ready to check himself AMA if need be, he would be at his friends side. Blair needed to be there, to wash away the guilt within the man he thought of as a brother. The man who would return to the conscious world thinking he had tried to kill him. Those thoughts and feelings would be gone before they had a chance to take hold. He would see to it, his partner would have to be clear if they were going to find the bastards that had done this to them. Blair swore there was no place on the planet the person or persons responsible could hide from them. He would hunt them, he would find them and they would pay,

He knew his friends and colleagues were doing their best and he admired their dedication, but if they couldn't find what they needed to take Johnson and whoever he was working with down, then he would. There was no way in hell this wrong would go unanswered. They had attacked the bond that held sentinel and guide together, attacked the trust it had taken so long to build and they would be held accountable for that crime.

Blair looked up from his bed as the familiar face of his doctor appeared at the door.

"How do you feel this morning Blair?" she said as she approached his bedside somewhat hesitantly. Her trepidation did not go unnoticed by her patient AND Blair scribbled furiously into his notebook.

WHAT'S WRONG? WHAT HAPPENED? IS JIM OKAY?

Dr Sayer frowned. "Blair, detective Ellison's condition deteriorated rapidly during the night. I'm sorry but-." She stopped short seeing an unforgiving sorrow in his face.

HE'S DEAD ISN'T HE?

Part Eleven.

Inspector Megan Connor scanned yet another case file from Dave Johnson's time in narcotics. She had no love for them man in question, but still her task made her heartsick. She knew cops went bad, some were just bad to begin with, but this was different. It was personal for her, two friends had been taken down and her fellow detectives were convinced another cop had been responsible. The more she investigated the more convinced she was as well.

There had been whispers coming through the grapevine for the last few days about the incident. Whispers that several individuals within the department were very glad to see a major crimes division without Ellison and Sandburg. One of those individuals was Dave Johnson and it infuriated her that this man was so cock sure. All she would really need to make her a happy woman was five minutes alone with him, five short minutes and that man wouldn't be cock anything.

"Hey Connor, anything?"

Megan looked up at detective Rafe and shook her head. "Nothing but I have a long way to go." She gestured toward the stack of files still waiting to be read.

The handsome detective grimaced and sat down across from her "I'll give you a hand with these." He said taking half the pile and beginning to read.

An hour had passed when Megan's exclaimed "Bugger!" broke the silence of the bullpen.

"What Megan?" Rafe asked.

"I found it!" Megan hissed. "That sonofabitch, I found the connection!" she showed Rafe the file.

Rafe carefully read the arrest report and swore. "Damn!" he swore. "Damn! Damn!"

"Rafe call the Captain and tell him what we've found!" Megan grabbed her coat off the back of her chair. "I'm on my way to the hospital, tell him not to leave Sandy alone and to get Allen off guard detail!"

Rafe dialed the phone, still hearing Megan's not so muffled curses as she reached the elevators. How could they have missed this? He only hoped he wasn't too late to keep anymore damage from being done.

Part Twelve.

Dr Sayer slowly shook here head as she read the scrawled message. "No Blair he's alive, I'm sorry I didn't say that properly."

HOW BAD?

"We don't expect him to live much longer." The grief she was witnessing was profound and she felt deeply sorry for the news she was delivering. "His systems are failing, we don't know why, but we can't stabilize him. I know you want to see him and I think you should. I'm sorry, I wish there was more we could do."

I NEED TO SEE HIM NOW.

The doctor nodded. "I'll have an orderly take you to him…I'm very sorry."

Blair gave a slight nod as she turned to leave. A pain had settled into his heart, overwhelming him. How could this happen? He was going to loose his best friend, why? For what? "NO!" his mind railed against it. "It can't happen, he can't die!"

Thoughts raced through his head. "There has to be more to this, they don't know why they can't stabilize him. God Jim! You can't give up! I haven't told you yet! He'd been getting better, why all of a sudden now he's worse?" Blair wracked his brain trying to find anything he'd read or knew that would help him, that would help them both. There had to be something, something he was missing. "Where is that orderly damnit?" he agonized for his voice, he needed to be heard! He had to be at his sentinel's side now! "I'm coming Jim and I swear I will not let you die, not now not after all this!"

The orderly finally arrived with his wheel chair, with help Blair levered him self from the bed to the chair. "Okay Mr. Sandburg." The tall wiry man said in an overly cheerful voice. "Hold tight were going for a little ride."

Blair rolled his eyes wondering what planet they found this guy on, the tone of the orderly's voice grated on his nerves, but there was something Vaguely familiar about it as well. He ignored the man's incessant chatter in favor of his own thoughts. He was so wrapped up in his mind that Blair did not notice the elevator was going down instead of up. He didn't realize when the orderly reached behind him and pressed the emergency stop. He didn't register the fact that the man behind him had stopped talking and had begun to uncurl a length of rope from his pocket. He didn't see the orderly loop it twice around each wrist. He was only aware of his foolish inattention when a blur of movement caught his eye immediately preceding the raw agony that blossomed around his neck.

Part Thirteen.

Simon Banks stood up and stretched his cramped muscles, he'd spent too many hours sitting in hospital chairs during the past few days and he was beginning to pay for it. He was where he had to be though. He looked down at the ashen face of his good friend and mourned, there was nothing more they could do and Jim Ellison was going to die. He was going to die. The thought had settled over him with devastating clarity and there was an insistent deep hurt associated with the fact that sometime during the day he was going to loose a friend. There was a sorrow that would never leave him for the knowledge the man would die never knowing he'd been exonerated, that no one held him responsible, that his guide knew the truth and did not blame him. Jim Ellison would never know his honor had been restored.

The slightest of movements from the man on the bed caught his eye. Simon thought to himself it was wishful thinking until he saw the muscles in his friends jaw clench, disturbing the formerly slack features, the beeping from the heart monitor sped up and Simon leaned in closer to the detective. "Jim?"

Lazy eyelids slid open revealing unfocused blue eyes and Simon's name was exhaled softly on the man's breath. "Easy Jim. It's going to be okay."

Jim heard the words and new they were untrue. "Blair." He rasped out.

"He's fine Jim, he knows-." He was cut off as the younger Detective's hand shot out and grabbed his arm with surprising force.

"No! He's in trouble…. I can hear." Exhaustion was leeching whatever energy he had remaining and he fought to force out the last word before succumbing to the beckoning darkness. "Elevator." He managed as his eyes slid shut.

Simon's eyes widened with realization as the grip around his arms went slack. He could hear the kid, of course he could. He turned to leave, noting that Officer Davies had returned to his post and ran right into Megan Connor. "Connor we need to search the elevators for Sandburg, Jim says the kids in trouble."

"He's right Captain." She said keeping pace with her captain's long strides down the hall. "We need to have Officer Allen Picked up. I believe he's a part of this."

"First things first, we need to find Sandburg." They came to the bank of elevators having six choices. "Which one?" his question was answered by a muffled curse coming from the shaft infront of him. "Help me get these doors open!" he shouted.

Connor and an orderly helped Simon pull the doors to the elevator open and they could all clearly hear the sounds of a struggle coming from the car some three floors below them. Simon turned to the orderly. "We're going to need a doctor to meet us down there!" he barked and took off for the stairs with Megan hot on his heels.

Part Fourteen.

The second the garrote tightened around his throat, Blair was on his feet, surprise pain and anger fueling his strength he threw his body backwards on to his assailant slamming him into the side of the elevator. The pressure and pain encircling his neck remained as he reached back and drove his thumbs into the other man's eyes, by sheer luck he managed perfect placement of his hands and the orderly shrieked and cursed releasing his victim. Blair was operating on instinct he turned on the man and brought his knee up hard into his assailants crotch as the man doubled over Blair grabbed him by the hair and with all his remaining strength slammed his head into the metal handrail of the car. The orderly was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Panting heavily, his eyes tearing from the reawakened pain in his throat, Blair hit the button for the next floor and slid bonelessly down the door of the elevator. His body had had enough, tears of pain streaked down his face and his jaw trembled in sympathetic reaction to the agony that throbbed throughout his neck and head.

Simon drew his gun as a ding signaled the elevator had reached it's destination, the doors slid open and Simon stepped back as the body of Blair Sandburg toppled out of the car. Megan brushed passed him and was cuffing the unconscious orderly as Simon knelt beside the prone form of the young observer. Blair's eyes were tightly closed but the moisture streaming from them bore a silent testament to the pain the younger man was enduring. Simon lay a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder as he re holstered his gun. "It's okay Blair." He felt the tremors shaking the anthropologist and noted the unheard sobs catching in his chest. The young man's eyes opened and he moved restlessly arching his back and neck in an effort to escape the pains in his body. Simon's heart clenched at the sound of Blair's ragged and strained breathing, he pushed sweat-dampened hair away from the young man's face. "Relax Blair just try to relax."

Blair reached up to the captain with a trembling hand, catching his shirtsleeve with as much strength as he could muster and mouthed. "Jim."

"He's doing okay." Simon replied quietly. "He was awake, he knew you were in trouble. Told us where to look." He smiled at the kid. "Seems like you had the situation pretty well handled though." He said as he glanced at the still unconscious orderly.

Blair managed a weak grin before his eyes slid shut and he surrendered to unconsciousness.

Part Fifteen.

Detective Henri Brown stood up from the interrogation table with a look of disgust on his face. The man sitting infront of him wasn't talking and Henri was getting very close to forgetting procedure and pounding the hell out of the smaller, thinner, but infinitely more annoying suspect.

The man's name was Arthur Jennings, small time muscle by night, mild mannered orderly by day. "Right." Henri thought. The man had been hired at the hospital the day after Blair and Jim had been admitted. He studied the smaller man, sitting slightly hunched in his seat, no doubt still feeling the effects of his run in with the police observer. Brown took not so silent satisfaction in the spectacular bruise covering a good part of the man's high forehead. "Serves you right you sonofabitch." He silently commented. "Look Mr. Jennings we have you dead to rights on the assault charge, you're going down for a long time. Do your self a favor, tell us who hired you and we'll go to the DA with your cooperation." This would be the fifth different way he'd worded this particular tactic. If the perp didn't crack soon he was going to let Megan have a go at him and from their earlier conversation Megan would go for what counted. The man would walk out of there a eunuch if she didn't get what she wanted.

"I'm not stupid, I'm going down any way. What difference will a few months of a year make to me." The man sneered.

"A big difference if the inmates think you're in for molesting a child." Henri leaned in so he was nose to nose with the suspect. "A big fucking difference man."

Jennings Blanched. "You wouldn't!"

"You bet that bruised little package of yours I would." He snarled. "You should know how shit like that gets around on the inside. So these are your choices man. Tell us who hired you or spend the next ten to twenty as someone's wife. You would definitely be the Bitch in the relationship."

"Okay." Jennings sagged further into his chair. "A guy named Manny Bruce comes to me three days ago and says he's got a job for me. Never said who put down the cash, just says he wants this guy Sandburg done. Says there's a cop too some guy named Ellison. I don't want the cop, no way, but I says I can do the kid easy. So I get hired on in the hospital and today the kid just falls into my lap right. Manny said the kids in rough shape so taking him out should spiff, easy. He wasn't supposed to fight back." He rubbed his forehead.

Henri was asserting every ounce of self-control he had not to pull out his gun and shoot the man before him. He was talking about killing Blair, like it was no big thing. He was talking about taking out a friend and he seemed pissed that the kid fought back, like Blair had broken some rule by not allowing himself to be strangled…. again. The detective took a deep breath and calmly asked two questions. "Who is after Ellison and where can we find Manny Bruce?"

"I don know who Manny got to do the cop. I swear I don know. If you want to get to Manny you go to the Bend and as for Tyler. That's all I know."

Brown grabbed Jennings by the collar "You better fucking pray it's enough!"

Part Sixteen.

I WANT TO SEE HIM NOW!

Dr Sayer looked at her frustrating patient, a patient who until twenty minutes ago had been unconscious. "Blair, listen I know you want to see him and I think it's a good idea that you do, but you're in worse shape than you were this morning and you need to take it easy and not get excited. Blair you can't do him any good-." He held a hand up to silence her and held out his notebook.

GET ME THE PAPERWORK! I'M OUT OF HERE!

The doctor closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten and then to twenty. "You are not checking out!" she said tersely. "I will take you to see him my self. You can stay for ten minutes-."

ONE HOUR.

"Twenty."

FORTY.

"A half hour Blair that's it."

DEAL!

His look of triumph made Dr Sayer rethink her oath. The man was worse than his partner! "Fine, I'll be right back with a chair."

I'M SORRY. I JUST NEED TO SEE HIM.

She sighed, she was beginning to understand what the younger nurses meant when they said he could get what ever he wanted. That he definitely could. Her patient was stubborn, bull headed, uncooperative and devilishly charming at the same time. It was infuriating and she was well aware she was being manipulated, but she understood his need to see his friend. Dr Sayer only wished he understood it was her job to see to it that he kept healing and the incident this afternoon hadn't helped. He'd sustained further injury to his already badly damaged throat and there was considerably more swelling then there had been even the day before. He was having difficulty breathing and too much exertion would only increase his body's need for oxygen and in his current condition he could not meet that need. The last thing he needed right now was to pass out. Did Blair Sandburg, the personal bane of her existence understand that? Of course not! Did she have it in her to be overly annoyed about that? No! "Why?" she asked herself. "Because he's got those damnedable puppy dog eyes, that if I were twenty years younger I would be falling all over my self for!" infuriating was right and it described her patient to a tee.

I MEAN IT. I'M SORRY FOR BEING A PAIN IN THE ASS.

She smiled. "I know, but if you think by apologizing you'll get to stay longer you're out of luck young man." She caught a quick glance of the demi-pout that crossed his face as she turned to leave. "I'm not a total pushover."

Blair leaned back into his pillows and tried to ignore the sum of the aces vying for his attention. He also stubbornly refused to think about the attack this afternoon. He could deal with that later after he saw Jim. He wasn't sure he'd heard Simon correctly when the older man had said that Jim had regained consciousness. Dr Sayer had said that Jim's vitals had improved throughout the day and Blair was encouraged by the news but he still needed to see it for him self. He needed to be by his friend's side. There was something missing within him that had been gone since Jim attacked him in the bullpen. The sense of reality in the relationship they shared had been stripped away leaving only this disconnected nightmare in its wake. It was time to take back their friendship from the jaws of the animal's bent on destroying it. It was way past time.

Part Seventeen.

Heart monitors. God he hated the sound of heart monitors, he hated what they meant. Injury, doubt, waiting, agony. Still the sound assured him his best friend was alive and stable. Now if only Jim would wake up again. Blair held his sentinel's hand gently in his own, the warmth of it easing the chill that had been soul deep within him for days. He silently begged for his friend's eyes to open so his desperate want could be quelled. "Open your eyes, Jim. If you can see me you'll know. I'm still here." No one heard his prayer. "Please man, I don't have much time."

The minutes ticked by as he studied the slack features of the man who had become a brother to him. The man who held his trust. Anger still burned red hot in his heart at the crime that had been committed against them. He knew his friend would be horrified at what he had done, regardless of the fact he had been drugged he would still try and hold himself responsible. Blair couldn't have that. He had suffered enough they had both suffered enough. He could put an end to the guilt if Jim would only open his eyes. "Come on Jim, it's time to come back. I'm waiting and there is so much we need to do."

The limp hand he held clenched slightly. He wanted so badly to call out his name, to help him back into this world, but he was muted. He reached out with his free hand and lightly stroked the face of his best friend. "God Jim! How do I get through to you?" his heart leapt into his throat when the older man leaned into his touch. "That's it Jim, come on." He encouraged in silence. He felt Jim's hand tighten around his, heard the soft moan come from his mouth and felt like jumping with joy. "Open your eyes man. Open your eyes."

It happened, just for a moment but it happened. Jim opened his eyes briefly but they slid closed before he could focus them. His body moved restlessly as his return to consciousness continued. Blair did the best he could to calm his friend. His hand traveled from his sentinel's face to his shoulder letting Jim know the only way he could that he wasn't alone and that it was safe to come back. After excruciatingly long minutes the older man's eyes finally opened and stayed open. Blair watched the laser blue eyes track around the room in confusion and then lock on him. For a moment his partner's expression was unreadable and then he saw the realization and shame mar his precious face. Blair immediately shook his head and began writing. Before he could finish he heard Jim whisper.

"I'm sorry."

The look of grief on Jim's face tore at Blair in a way nothing else ever had, he felt the hot sting of tears fill his eyes as his vision blurred through them.

IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT.

Jim turned away from him, but Blair gently but insistently turned the sentinel's face back toward him.

IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT! YOU WERE DRUGGED! I DO NOT BLAME YOU!

"You should."

Blair shook his head. "No man I shouldn't. And neither should you." he thought.

JIM, YOU WERE ATTACKED THE SAME AS I WAS. YOU'RE A VICTIM NOT, ARE YOU READING THIS? NOT THE CRIMINAL. LET IT GO MAN, LOOK AT ME AND LET IT GO. YOU KNOW THE TRUTH. LOOK AT ME AND LET IT GO.

Jim did look, he looked deeply into his guide's dark blue eyes and he saw no blame, no fear, no hostility. He saw only the warmth he had come to rely upon, the open acceptance that had always been there before. He looked and he saw the truth. It overwhelmed him, the fear he felt when he was sitting alone in the jail cell was replaced with relief and thankfulness that his brother was alive and still his brother. "Thank you." his guide smiled and it was a sight he thought he would never see directed at him again, that brilliant smile that easily told him it would all be okay and he believed.

ANYTIME MAN.

Part Eighteen.

Megan Connor and Joel Taggart approached the front door of Officer Dennis Allen's home, hoping to have one more piece of the puzzle fall into place. Megan had noted that Allen was one of the arresting officers in the Tibidoux case and that had connected him to both Dave Johnson and the arrested Chemist. Georges Tibidoux had been arrested for Drug Trafficking and possession with intent six months prior, the case was handled poorly by the detective in charge, Johnson, and the suspect had gotten off on a technicality. Johnson was transferred to robbery shortly after.

From what the Australian inspector had been able to put together there were strong suspicions of evidence tampering, but not enough proof to bring any charges. It all seemed very convenient, and too much of a coincidence for her to ignore. She had a feeling that Johnson had been planning to take her friends down for some time and the bastard had found the tools to do it when he'd arrested Tibidoux.

"Megan, you alright?" Joel looked at the woman who was seemingly lost in thought.

"Yeah." She replied. "Maybe a little angry."

"Were all a lot angry Megan. It's okay, just stay focused." The younger woman nodded her head and Joel Proceeded to knock on the door. There was no answer; somewhere inside Joel Taggart there was a marked lack of surprise. He knocked again, louder, and they waited. Nothing. He and Connor began to look around the modest home, Allen's car was in the drive indicating he was home, was the man really hiding from them?

Megan came around the back of the home and Peered into the kitchen window, her heart fell as her eyes came to rest of the bloody body of Dennis Allen. "Bugger!" she swore as she drew her gun. The back entrance of the house was partially open and she motioned to Taggart as he came around the corner. The older detective drew his weapon and the pair cautiously entered the home.

The scene inside was horrific, blood was splattered along the cabinets and pooling on the floor. The body it's self was a mass of stab wounds, Joel didn't think the killer had missed an inch, Dennis Allen looked as if he'd been flayed head to toe. The man's throat was slit, slit nearly to the point of decapitation. Joel turned away from the gruesome sight while Megan radioed for forensics and the coroner.

They had reached another very dead end.

Part Nineteen.

"Captain?" Henri Brown stood apprehensively at Simon's office door.

"What is it Brown?" Simon looked up from the forensics report he was reading.

"Dave Johnson has disappeared." He stepped inside. "He didn't show for work this morning and when Megan and Taggart when to his apartment they found the place cleaned out. They're getting lists of friends and family now.'

"God Damnit!" Simon shouted. "This is unbelievable!" he stood up and began pacing the room. "What about Bruce?"

"No one has seen him, or if they have they're not talking." Henri shook his head. "We're coming up empty there too."

"Shit! This is all very convenient." He hissed. "I want an APB out on both of them. I want them found! And I don't want any more screw ups!"

"Yes sir!" Brown beat a hasty retreat.

Simon slammed the door to his office and spent the next fifteen minutes cursing. His instincts told him they were missing something very important. There had to be more to this mess than just some angry detective trying to make room for himself in the unit. Something bigger and infinitely more sinister. Simon slammed his fist into his desk out of frustration. What the hell was it? They all knew Jim had been drugged, was Dave Johnson really the mind behind this whole scheme? Some how Simon doubted it. They would more than likely be finding the bodies of both Johnson and Manny Bruce sometime with in the next few days. Dave Johnson left town, why? They had nothing on him, only suspicion. There was no evidence against him, nothing they could make stick. He arrested Tibidoux, worked with Dennis Allen and was generally an asshole. None of that constituted an IA investigation or the DA pressing any kind of charges. While they should, people did not go to jail for being assholes. Dave Johnson left town because he was scared, he packed up and left because he knew he was next. Johnson had made a deal with the devil. Simon needed to find out what name the devil was wearing this week. Simon was jarred from his thoughts by another knock at his door. "What!" he roared.

Detective Rafe opened the door. "I'm sorry sir but I thought you'd want to see this." He handed a thick file to the police captain.

"What is this?" he inquired.

"Georges Tibidoux and his long list of associations and aliases." Rafe ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "The guy is a phantom Captain. He's been arrested at least a half a dozen times in as many states under as many names. He's never, ever been convicted. He's only been to trial once and that according to record only lasted fifteen minutes before the case was thrown out for improper evidence handling. In each case, the key players all suffered unfortunate accidents. People who investigate this guy suffer unfortunate accidents. Christ Captain it's said he had his own wife killed for saying the wrong thing to the wrong persona and jeopardizing his privacy."

"What does this have to do with Ellison?" Simon was dreading the answer. The other detectives had been investigating the theft of some very volatile chemicals, the kind of chemicals used in chemical weapons.

"Jim was investigating De Soleil corp. it's a front for Tibidoux. We didn't catch it right away because he used it Twenty years ago in Paris. I just received the Interpol file on him and I came to see you." Rafe concluded.

"I want you to pull everything you can on De Soleil. Financial records, everything. I'm going to the hospital to speak with Jim and see how far they'd gone into the investigation." Simon tucked the file under his arm and followed the younger detective out of his office. The devil had a name, Georges Tibidoux.

Part Twenty.

Jim Ellison sat propped up in his bed and watched his partner sleep. He's been moved from ICU that morning and at his and Simon's request had been put in the same room as his guide.

Blair still slept a lot and that was fine with Jim who was doing his share of sleeping as well. Now however he was using his friend's rest to examine him closely. He needed to assure himself the younger man was all right, he tuned into the sound of Blair's strong steady heartbeat and let the rhythm soothe his still battered conscience.

Nightmare. That was the only word he could use to describe what they had been through, what they were still going through. Jim still suffered with the burden of memory, he remembered every second of his attack on Blair. The younger man had assured him many times that he knew it wasn't his fault. Jim understood that but the accelerated heartbeat of his guide when they spoke of the incident betrayed a fear in the younger man that had not been there before. A fear that would not be there if Jim had not tried to kill him.

"Man you're not happy unless you're stewing about something."

The barley audible whisper brought Jim's eyes up and straight into the gaze of his best friend. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep all day chief."

Blair turned his head to look out the window of their room, seeing the dusky evening sky beyond and then grinned back at the older man. "I think I pretty much have."

Jim rolled his eyes. "How's the throat?"

"Okay." The observer was still barely whispering and would not have been heard by anyone other than his sentinel. He also did not miss the scowl on said sentinel's face at his blatant obfuscation. "It hurts. It's gonna hurt. It hasn't had the best week." The younger man lightened the sting of the words with a smile. "It's better than it was though."

"That's good." Jim smiled. "Looks like you're getting sprung tomorrow."

Blair tried to smile, he honestly did. As much as he hated hospitals the thought of being separated from Jim was distinctly unsettling. Yes he knew the older man would more than likely be released in a couple of days, but as they had come to learn, a lot could happen in a couple of days. There was someone out to get them, someone who was still out there. "Yeah." He finally answered.

"I thought you'd be a little happier about that."

The younger man shrugged. "I guess." He swallowed painfully. "I'm just not comfortable with it."

The sentinel understood perfectly, he was concerned about his guide's safety. Outside the hospital he would be vulnerable to attack. He'd been attacked in the hospital and this was much easier to cover than the loft or the station or anywhere else Blair might spend his time. Jim strongly suspected that the anthropologist would be spending most of his time here with him. But he also knew the hospital staff and his doctor would not let Blair stay twenty four-seven until Jim was released. There were too many unknowns wrapped up in this situation for him to be at ease with his partner's absence.

Still he knew Blair was very capable of looking out for himself, he'd proven that once again defending himself from the attack in the elevator. His concern was that people who wanted someone dead didn't give up until they got it right. They were both still targets in a very dangerous hunt and they were dependent on the men and women they served with to watch their backs until they were back on their feet. Jim couldn't help but feel they were existing in a no win situation. He glanced over at his partner and found the younger man had already drifted off to sleep again. Despite the turmoil in his mind the sentinel was not far behind.

Somewhere beyond the walls of the hospital, down one of the darkening city streets in a dingy motel room a man planned. His dark Grey eyes scanned in every detail of the pictures spread out before him, he memorized the features of the men his employer wanted him to kill. He read the words in their files; it was one of the things he liked best about this particular job. His employer was a very thorough man, and he was beginning to feel like he knew James Ellison and Blair Sandburg. Familiarity would make the kill intimate. Intimacy would allow him to make the kill painful and pain fulfilled him.

Part Twenty-one.

Simon Banks quietly pushed open the door of the hospital room his two friends shared. Both men were sleeping and he was loath to wake them, but he needed answers.

"Hey Simon."

The police captain looked at the bed in which his best detective was resting to find a pair of tired blue eyes looking up at him. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Off and on." He gestured to his partner. "He's been a little restless."

Simon looked back at the young observer, noting the lines of stress and pain on his sleeping face. "Nightmares?"

"A few." Jim replied. "He's not thrilled about the idea of being released tomorrow."

Simon chuckled softly. "That's a first. He shouldn't worry he'll have round the clock protection."

"He's not worried about himself, Simon. He's worried about me." Jim sighed.

"I'm not surprised." Simon scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he sat. "You'll have an officer or one of us at all times here too. Listen Jim, I need to know more about this De Soleil corporation that you've been investigating."

"You think there's a tie in?" the sentinel adjusted his bed upwards to sit.

"Yeah, we found out it was a front that Tibidoux used when he was working in France. I need to know what you found out, who you talked to out there."

"Honestly Simon, I don't have much. We just started looking into them about a week before…" He trailed off, still hesitant to sat the words. "Uh, we ended up here."

Simon didn't miss the slight quaver to his friends voice or the mans quick glance to his sleeping partner. He could only imagine how Jim must feel, though Simon knew that Jim understood that he was not in control the day he attacked Blair, it would still be awhile before he could let go of the fact that even inadvertently he had acted without honor. That was if he could at all. Simon let it pass, he didn't have the answers for his friend. His tired brain could barely even focus on his job let alone try to provide an emotional Band-Aid. When they were at the end of this nightmare, he knew there would be a lot of talking going on. He looked forward to it, but know he had a job to do and his men needed to live long enough to do all that talking. "Did you talk to anyone associated with De Soleil?"

Jim shook his head. "Only the receptionist, on the phone once." Jim arched his eyebrow and looked pointedly at his captain. "Sir what aren't you telling me?"

Simon took a deep breath. "Dennis Allen is dead, Johnson packed up and blew town and no one has seen Manny Bruce since the day after you and Sandburg were admitted. The only common thread we had between Allen and Johnson was the Tibidoux arrest, Rafe did a little digging and we found that things like this happen to just about everybody who interferes with his business." He slid his fingers under his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "It's not much but it's all we have."

Jim nodded grimly. "Cases have been solved on less sir."

Simon glared at his ailing detective. "Was that supposed to be encouraging?"

The younger detective shrugged. "I tried sir but that's really Sandburg's department."

Simon couldn't help but chuckle. "Then call me when he wakes up, because you suck at it."

Part Twenty-two.

Megan Connor glanced at the man sitting in the passenger seat of her car. The big man was unusually quiet, not that she could blame him after what they'd seen the day before, still it worried her. "Do you want to talk about it Joel?"

"Not really much to talk about Megan. I'm Just frustrated." He replied, scrubbing a hand across his face. "None of this makes any sense, and I'm angry that were not making more progress."

"I know. Me too." She said quietly. "I'm afraid for them, this is much bigger than we thought and until we know for sure what direction this whole mess is coming from they're still in danger."

"I hate this!" Joel hissed in frustration. "I fucking hate this being helpless!"

Megan's eyes widened slightly at the older man's unusual use of profanity but she kept her eyes on the road. She understood completely where the man was coming from. Every cop had cases they couldn't solve. It was something they all dreaded, but this was worse because it involved an attack on their own. Some one out there was trying very hard to remove two of their brothers in arms from the fold. Being unable to find the culprit was not acceptable.

Megan had gone to her apartment the previous evening and spent a half-hour throwing things. The anger and frustration she had been pushing away from the beginning had finally caught up to her. She physically released her anger and cried out her frustrations. She had so desperately needed the release, but she felt no better in the aftermath.

Both she and Joel had spent limited time at the hospital, spending most of their days since the incident investigating very thin leads, but they were headed back to the hospital now to escort Sandburg home. Megan unsuccessfully fought against the memory of her friend's limp body tumbling out of the elevator three days before. She had thought for one terrifying and wrenching instant that he was dead. She had flashed back to the day at the fountain, the day when she really had seen him dead. She shuddered inwardly at the memory, it had been the worst day she had experienced since coming to the states and the other day had come far too close in comparison. "He's alive." She told her self. "They're both alive and it's your job to keep them that way."

She thought about the men and women she worked with, she had never imagined upon her arrival the depth of relationship she would share with them. Especially with the exceptional two men they were now trying to protect.

Blair Sandburg had made her feel welcome from the get go. His warm open nature had set her immediately at ease and she had developed an instant liking for his quirky personality. Beyond that she had seen an intensely passionate and loyal man, someone she trusted. He had quickly earned her respect and easily understood the deference given to him by the other members of Major crimes.

Detective Ellison was another matter entirely. He was grating, condescending, very close to insulting. He had a personality like sandpaper and she bristled in his presence. Over time as she learned more about the man and his unique talents she too began to understand his actions and peel back the layers of his exterior to reveal a truly amazing man. He was someone who in one breath could be ripping a person up one side and sown the other and in the next turn around and treat a victim with a gentleness that was surprising to say the least. She had seen it happen and in many ways she found her self awed by Jim Ellison.

Now she was finding herself in a near impossible position. Investigating the attempted murder of two friends and maintaining a professional detachment from her work. It simply wasn't happening, and she wasn't sure she could be held responsible for her actions if and when they caught the perps.

"Now who's the quiet one?" the big detective next to her asked as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

She glanced over at him and smiled at the look of complete understanding she saw reflected in his dark eyes. "Just taking a cue from you Taggart." She teased lightly.

He chuckled. "What does Blair call it? Processing?"

Megan nodded, her face becoming solemn once again. "I think we'll be doing a lot of processing when this whole thing is over."

"Yep." Joel agreed opening his door. "Now let's go get Sandburg before they throw him out."

The Australian shook her head. "Never thought I'd see the day Sandy resisted getting out of the hospital."

"Simon said he's worried about Jim. Jim's worried that Blair will spend so much time worrying about him, that he won't take care of himself. So we're hired to make sure that neither man worries about the other. Blair will know that Jim is okay and Jim will know that Blair is okay and maybe, just maybe both of them will behave for a change." Joel explained as they entered the hospital lobby.

"You think this behaving thing will actually happen?" Megan asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not a chance in hell."

Part Twenty-three.

Georges Tibidoux was enraged. His eyes blazed with unrestrained anger, his face was red and veins were bulging out on his forehead and neck with the force of his vehemence. The man tied to the chair infront of him was helpless in the face of such ferocity and he simply waited for the end to come.

He had been a fool. Dave Johnson silently cursed himself and everyone else associated with his personal hell. How could he have thought he could take an offer from a man like Tibidoux and walk away with his life? Easy, Tibidoux had appealed to his nature and offered him money and the position within in the department he had so long desired. All he had to do was get rid of Ellison and his hippie partner, his employer already had the plan, the drug and the delivery system, all Dave had to de was make sure Ellison received the proper dosage. He had fucked up badly when he jumped the gun, filling Ellison's ear with what he knew would send the drugged man over the edge.

Dave cringed at his stupidity, he loved a public spectacle and what better place for Ellison to take the kid down than the bullpen of major crimes. Of course he hadn't thought far enough in advance to realize that the witnesses would be willing to help the observer before the detective had the chance to snap his neck, like he was supposed to do. Instead the kid wound up in the hospital, still very much alive, Ellison wound up in a holding cell, where again there was help ready when the nasty little side effect of the cocktail he had been given took hold, and it looked like he was still very much alive. The only dead man in the scenario was him.

He didn't think that was quite fair. So he was now waiting for Mr. Tibidoux to finish his ranting and kill him. He was ready to be done with it, he just hoped there was some sort of after life so he could come back and haunt Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg and spend the next fifty years throwing sharp objects at one Georges Tibidoux.

Tibidoux abruptly ended his rampage, stopping and staring intently at the man who had failed him and then tried to run. "Idiot!" he shouted. The man knew what was coming and he seemed resigned to it. Georges saw no fear in his eyes and that fueled his anger. This man would die slow; he would show fear before he died. The chemist would see to that. "Bring me the nail gun!" he ordered.

Part Twenty-four.

The sun ignited the western horizon over the bay as yet another day come to a close. Blair Sandburg stood at the windows over looking the water trying to see its brilliance through the fear and doubt plaguing his mind. He was alone. Not really alone, Megan was working hard in the kitchen trying to come up with the perfect comfort food, but he was alone none the less. Separated from the one person who he needed by his side, the one person who needed him as well.

He had not wanted to leave the hospital, no one understood why, trying to allay concerns that were not there. He knew Jim would recover, just as he would, he did not need to be convinced of that, but separation was death for them. No one could see that, or maybe they could and were just hoping for the best.

God he was scared. More frightened than he had ever been in his life. He grappled with his terror, trying to believe that both of them would survive the night. The demons in his mind told him it was not to be. One of those demons wore the face of Jim Ellison. Even though Blair knew Jim was not responsible for his actions, it would be a long time before his best friends enraged face left his nightmares.

He sighed and turned his back to the windows, sinking into the cushions of the sofa with a small grimace, he cursed once again the people who had done this to him. He still hurt, but he's been refusing the painkillers offered to him because now was not the time to exist in a drugged stupor. He knew something was going to happen, soon and he needed to be as close to his best as he could when it did.

Blair curled further into the sofa as his thoughts accompanied him into an uneasy sleep.

Megan looked up from her attempt at white lasagna as she heard a soft snore come from the living room. A smile of relief touched her lips. "It's about time, Sandy." She said softly as she crossed to the sleeping man and draped an afghan over him.

She had kept a close eye on him as he stood at the window, more than an hour had passed and he had not moved. It was too much like one of Jim's zones for her to be comfortable with. She knew he was exhausted, hurting on both a physical and emotional level but he had been tight lipped about his feelings. That hadn't surprised her, she wasn't so sure if the roles were reversed she'd be able to discuss her feelings either.

Her friend looked awful, the bruises on his neck were still vivid as was the bruise on his Jaw, they were a grim reminder of what had taken place five days prior and seeing them made her gut twist. Every time she looked at him her anger was renewed, but now all she wanted was a way to make it better, to make him comfortable until Jim came home.

Giving him one last look she returned to the kitchen and frowned at the disaster that was her attempt at dinner. "Give it a go Megan." She told herself. "It might turn out." She popped the pan into the oven and set the timer.

She sat at the kitchen table and began to read the case files she had brought with her, some time later the phone rang. She was pleased when she glanced at her charge and found that he was still sleeping. "Hello" she answered.

"Hey Connor it's Jim."

"Why am I not surprised." She answered him, happy to hear some of the strength had returned to his voice.

"Who's psychic now?" he teased.

"Very funny Jim." She smiled, it was good to hear the old Ellison. "What can I do for you…. Oh wait you're probably wanting to know how Sandy is."

"You're so good." There was a pause. "Well?"

"He's fine, sleeping right now. Do you want me to wake him?"

One the other end of the phone Jim picked up on the reluctance in her voice and was pleased with her concern for his partner. "How long has he been sleeping?" he asked, not truly wanting to wake the younger man, but not able to fight the need to talk with him either.

"About an hour." She paused, looking over at her friend again and knowing with out a doubt he would be a very unhappy person when he awoke if she let him miss Jim's call. "Gimme a sec, let me wake him up."

"Thanks Connor." He heard her gently rouse his partner and after a minute was rewarded with a groggy whisper from his friend.

"Hey Jim. What's up?" Blair rubbed at his face in an attempt to push his fatigue away.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing partner."

Blair was beyond the pretense of 'all is well here. Just another night at the loft.' So he settled for the straight truth. "I've been better man."

"Yeah I know pal, me too." Jim sighed. "I'm going to see about getting out of here tomorrow. At this point, they're just keeping me to make sure there are no after affects and I'm sure there won't be. I'll sign my self out AMA if they argue."

"I'm not going to argue with you in that Jim." Blair said honestly. "I really wish you were here now."

"I know, Chief. Me too." Jim waited for a response from his partner for a moment before he realized the line had gone dead. "Oh my god!" he gasped before he levered himself from his bed.

Part Twenty-five.

He had been watching, waiting, and now the time had come. First this one, the child among the two. Oh he savored this, he knew his fears and he cold play upon them. He would make the man suffer exquisitely, the kid would beg, plead, choke on his own fear and the assassin would enjoy it.

He would take the young man to the brink in many ways many times before his final release. He could almost taste the sweetness of the kill. He lifted his head to the newly emerging stars and exhaled his satisfaction. He had no want or need to hide the arousal the prospect of this kill brought him, the exhilaration in him was fresh every time. Each life he took felt like his virgin kill and he savored the feeling.

He would have to take care of the woman. She was not his job, but he would deal with her none the less. Quickly, efficiently he would remove her from the picture and then he could begin his true work.

The time had come, he moved with stealth borne of years within the shadows and began to take their lifelines away. A deep chuckle built within his throat as he cut the phone lines to the building and then removed the light from their world for the final time.

He crept up the stairs, barely containing his glee as he stopped before the door to 307. He didn't wait and with a mighty kick splintered the door from its hinges. The woman had her gun drawn, but his was faster taking her high in the chest, he smiled as she crumpled to the floor. A strangled cry brought his attention to his prey and he quickly crossed over to the man, clubbing him across the face with his gun. He didn't wait to see him hit the floor as he had a more pressing issue to attend to.

He lifted the woman's body and carried her out the door, he dropped her on the stairs and watched her tumble lifelessly to the bottom. It would not do to have her body remain in his workshop. His business was a private one, not to be seen by the living or the dead.

He nonchalantly turned and re-entered the loft, closing and securing the battered door as best he could. He moved the bookcase to secure his sanctuary and began his work.

Part Twenty-six.

Simon Banks was nearly knocked off his feet when the large blur of a person barreled into him in the corridor. It took him a second to realize that it was Jim Ellison that was doing the barreling. "Jim what the HELL do you think you're doing?" he shouted after the retreating figure.

Jim didn't stop or turn around. "He's at the loft! He's at the loft with Sandburg and Connor!"

"Sonofabitch!" Simon swore as he caught up with his detective. "I'll drive."

Jim nodded still keeping his pace through the hospital halls. "That's good sir, I was going to have to steel a car if you didn't "

There was no levity in that statement. Simon knew the other man was deadly serious. He flipped open his cell phone and placed the call to dispatch. "I want all available units to 852 Prospect, assault in progress. The suspect is armed and dangerous!"

Jim barely registered his captain's words, his thoughts whirled in a maelstrom of fear. He knew they would be too late. His partner was alone with someone bent on killing him and Jim was too far away to keep that from happening. "I'm so sorry, Chief."

"Jim don't even think that! You don't know he's dead!" Simon said sharply in response to Jim's muttered apology. "You need to stay focused, he's going to need you when we get there!"

"Yes sir."

The drive to the loft was agonizing for both men, every second that ticked by, was a second their friend did not have. The shrill ringing of Simon's phone shattered the silence that had taken over the interior if the car.

"Banks!" Simon answered.

Jim tuned his hearing into the voice coming from the other end, it was Henri Brown and Jim dreaded what he was going to hear.

"Simon it's Brown, were here. It's not good." The other man's words were halting and tinged with distress. "We found Connor on the landing to the second floor. She's been shot. It's bad sir, it looks like after she was shot she was pushed down the stairs. The EMT's are with her now. We can hear a voice in the loft but we can't make out what's being said, both doors are blocked. We're trying to get into the building across the street to see into the loft-."

Simon listened to Henri's report with a knot growing in his stomach as he began to fear the worst. "Henri we'll be there in two minutes." He glanced at the man next to him as a streetlight illuminated his face. The anguish in the younger man's eyes was wrenching and he knew they were too late.

Simon's car screeched to a halt as they came upon the chaos that was now the eight hundred block of Prospect Street. Jim was out of the car and headed for his building before Simon had the chance to unbuckle his seat belt. He exited his sedan and came to a stop beside the sentinel.

Jim had his head cocked to one side and Simon knew he was listening. He knew he was listening to the activity in his home. The expression on Jim's face made the vocalization of his question unnecessary, but it tumbled from his mouth anyway. "What do you hear Jim?"

Part Twenty-seven.

The assassin glanced out the balcony windows at the activity below and sighed. He knew eventually his ride would come to an end, this was just sooner than expected. Still he would get one more before they took him down. He glanced at his young target slumped forward in the chair he was tied to, chest heaving in the effort to breathe the stale air within the plastic bag cinched around his throat.

The man smiled and checked his watch, more than enough time for the young man to succumb before the cops below stormed the place. More than enough time for him to taste one last sweet death.

By his watch it had been a half-hour since he'd first entered the loft, he'd only wasted three of those precious minutes removing the woman. That had left him and the kid alone and had allowed him plenty of time to do what he did best.

He'd roused his young target with pain, the look of surprise, shock and then fear in his deep blue eyes as he drug his bowie knife deeply across the soft flesh of the young man's inner forearm was priceless. A cherished moment he would take to his grave. His victim's face had been beautifully expressive throughout their time together and it was almost a shame that it was now obscured by the plastic over his head.

He saw the young man's chest hitch and calmly placed a hand over his heart. The kid was evidently conscious enough to flinch away from his touch, not that it mattered to his murderer as he checked his watch again. He's done this many times before, it was his favorite method of execution because it was excruciatingly slow for the victim and by his watch he knew the kid had five minutes tops before he lost consciousness and death would follow very soon afterward. He rested his hand on the young mans chest again and felt the trip hammering rhythm beneath his fingers. "Soon Mr. Sandburg. Very soon."

Part Twenty-eight.

"What do you hear Jim?"

If hell had a sound Jim Ellison was hearing it as he tuned into the racing irregular beat of his partners heart, listened to the strained efforts of his lungs to gather and process inadequate air, heard the crinkle of plastic in response to those efforts. "He's suffocating Simon, we have to get in there now! I'm going up the fire escape!"

Before Simon could reach out and stop him the man beside him was gone; Simon followed suit calling out to his men to move in.

The surge of fear driven energy propelled the sentinel upward toward his home, listening to his partners faltering heart beat, his mind was narrowed to only one thought. Protect Sandburg. His guide would not be taken from him!

He reached the window to his home, giving no attention to the toll the exertion was taking on his weakened body he crashed through as he heard the man speak.

"Soon Mr. Sandburg. Very soon."

He landed hard on the floor amidst the broken glass, ignoring the pain as shards of jagged debris tore into the skin of his arms, hands and legs. He was on his feet and through the door before he was aware he was moving. Stumbling into the living room he froze.

Blair was tied to one of the kitchen chairs, with a plastic bag pulled tight against his face. The younger man was bucking weakly against the man who was suffocating him. It took one second for Jim to catalogue the scene before him, the blood still dripping from his guides arm, the bruises mottling his bare chest and arms, and the frighteningly translucent blue white quality to his undamaged skin. In the next second the sentinel launched him self at his partners would be killer sending all three men crashing to the floor.

Instinct had driven Jim Ellison into a killing rage and with a speed and agility he should not have been capable of he wrapped unnaturally strong arms around the murderer's neck and snapped it in one smooth graceful motion.

Threat removed he turned to his partner and ripped the plastic bag off his head, he listened to the still irregular heart beat as it slowed dramatically, for a moment he thought the younger man was not breathing, but the slight, almost imperceptible rise and fall of the younger man's chest allayed that fear. "Come on Chief, pick up the rhythm."

Jim suddenly became aware of the stench of blood, he had seen the injury to his guides arm and noted that blood still flowed freely from the wound. He rose to get a towel when he noticed Simon was already at his side holding one out to him. "Thank you." he said and wrapped the towel tightly around the wound. "We need medics here now, he needs oxygen, he's barely breathing."

Simon was at the front door pulling away the makeshift barricade to allow easier access to the loft. He removed the last of the obstructions and pulled the broken door out of the way, letting it fall. "We need medics up here!" he shouted into the hall. He turned back to his men, seeing Jim cradling his partners still form, hearing the man beg his best friend to keep breathing; the stoic captain sank to his knees beside his detective and prayed silently. "God please, just let this nightmare end."

The next minutes were a flurry of activity in the loft as the medics worked to stabilize the anthropologist. Jim never lost contact with the stricken man, unconsciously monitoring his faltering signs of life. "Please Blair, just take a deep breath." The oxygen mask placed over the younger man's nose and mouth had done nothing to prompt his respiration into a stronger rhythm. "Come on Chief, it's okay, you're going to be okay, you just need to breathe." Jim nearly cried out when his guide answered the call, clouded blue eyes shot open as his chest heaved in a deep shuddering breath. The younger man coughed weakly as his body fought to regain its natural balance and he reached out for an anchor latching on to Jim's arm.

Jim smiled reassuringly as his partner's eyes focused on him. "It's okay, you're okay now." He was relieved to see Blair's slight nod of agreement before his eyes slid closed. He almost didn't hear the whispered statement as his friend surrendered to unconsciousness.

"Knew you'd come."

"I knew it too." Jim answered silently. "I just didn't know if I'd be in time."

Part Twenty-nine.

Simon looked up as a weary and battered Jim Ellison pushed open the door to his partner's hospital room.

"They let you go?" he asked surprised to see the detective.

Jim arched his eyebrow and shook his head with a small grin. "I signed my self out." he glanced at the younger man asleep on the bed. "Has he been awake?"

"Once briefly, he asked about you and Megan." He grimaced. "Fell asleep before I could answer."

"Any news on Connor?" Jim asked taking the chair opposite to his captain.

"She's still in surgery to remove the bullet. Her doctors are guardedly optimistic, they say her fall down the stairs could have been worse if she were conscious, as it is she's cracked some ribs and more than likely has a concussion. They'll know more when she's out of surgery and conscious." Simon removed his glasses and rubbed a hand across his face. He couldn't remember a time when he had been this tired. The events of the last days were a heavy burden, all of the anger, helplessness and frustration bore down on him without mercy amplifying them selves with every passing minute.

"You should really get some rest, sir." Jim glanced at his captain, noting the lines of fatigue surrounding his eyes.

"So should you." Simon replied wondering what force of nature was keeping the other man upright.

"I'm fine sir." Was Jim's terse reply. There was no way he was leaving Blair's side, not again, not after this.

"Bullshit Ellison." Simon glared at the younger man. "You should be in the bed right next to your partner here!"

A soft groan from the younger man on the bed brought the argument to a standstill. Both men realized that neither of them were going anywhere in the foreseeable future.

"Blair?" Jim inquired softly. Slowly tired eyelids lifted and revealed pain filled blue eyes. "Welcome back buddy." He whispered as Blair's eyes focused on him.

"Hey Sandburg. "The captain offered. "How are you feeling?"

Blair slowly turned his head and fixed the older man with as much incredulity as he could muster. "Don't ask." He sighed as he closed his eyes.

"Blair, you still with us pal?" Jim asked fearing his partner had drifted off again.

"Mmm Yeah." The younger man whispered. "Hurts."

"Where?" Jim asked noting the tense frown creasing his guide's face.

""vrywhere." Blair answered, beginning to shift restlessly in his bed.

"Easy now, don't move. We'll get you something for the pain." Jim soothed seeing that Simon had already pressed the call button.

"Kay." The younger man's easy acquiescence was a clear indication of the level of pain he was enduring. His frown deepened as he asked his next question. "Megan?"

This time Simon answered. "Still in surgery, but her doctors think she'll be fine."

Blair shook his head. "Oh man. I'm so sorry."

"None of this is your fault Blair." Jim took his guides hand. "Remember what you told me. The same goes for you pal. None of this is your fault."

"Do you believe it yet?"

Jim sighed. "Touché." He mumbled shaking his head. "It still holds true. You had no control over what happened, it's not your fault."

The younger man nodded too tired to argue. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." The sentinel smiled down at his guide. "Now."

Blair cracked open his eyes and studied his friend carefully. The older man's arms were bandaged, there were a myriad of cuts criss crossing his face and he looked exhausted and pale. "Liar." He exhaled, the effort it took to speak was becoming too much for him and the pull of sleep was overwhelming even his pain.

Jim chuckled softly as his partner's eyes slid closed again. "I'm fine where it counts chief."

Part Thirty.

Detectives Brown and Rafe looked over the dingy motel room in obvious disgust. It was a filthy roach ridden hovel, that looked as though it had been well lived in.

"Oh how could anyone stand this?" Rafe wrinkled his nose at the strong stench of human waste permeating the enclosed room.

"You got me Pal." Brown replied thankful for the gloves protecting his hands from the articles he was touching. "This is just gross!"

Rafe opened the small closet and stepped back as a black briefcase tumbled out. "Hello" he smiled "What do we have here?"

"Is that a trick question?" Henri asked looking over his partner's shoulder. "Cos it looks like a briefcase to me."

The South African detective resisted the urge to smack his partner biting back a rude comment he jimmied the lock on the attaché and examined its contents. "Holt shit." He whispered as he came across detailed files on Sandburg and Ellison. He dug further through the pile of papers smiling as he hit the mother lode. "You slimy sonofabitch! Henri take a look at this."

"What?" he glanced over the other man's shoulder.

"Look at this and tell me it doesn't conclusively tie, if not hermetically seal Mr. Georges Tibidoux to our dear departed assassin."

Henri studied the records carefully. The man in question had faithfully kept a record of all transactions, conversations, and meetings. He had traced bank account numbers from wire transfers to his account, logged the phone numbers coming into his cell phone and along with the paper trail there were eight mini cassettes. Attached to the front of the folder was a letter addresses To Whom It May Concern… evidently Arthur Farrell kept records like this on all his clients, there was a key to a bank safety deposit box that contained similar information on the more than a dozen other men he had worked for. In the event of his death he wanted all records turned over to the police. His last line read
"You can't commission the devils work with out having to pay him eventually."
"This is the first good news we've had in a week. Call Simon, we need to get this to the DA and get Tibidoux before he has the chance to run!"

Part Thirty-one.

When Blair awoke next it was to silence, a momentary flash of panic tore through him, but it was gone before he had a chance to wrap his clouded mind fully around the fear. He was in the hospital, yet again and he idly wondered if he should start keeping a change of clothes and a few basic necessities locked away in a closet somewhere or perhaps arrange a permanent reservation for the room he was occupying.

A soft snore to his right caught his attention, he opened his eyes and quickly realized he was not as alone as he'd originally thought. Simon was asleep in the chair next to his bed in a position even the best of contortionists would be envious of. The observer knew his friend would be paying for that position later. He wondered what kind of divine intervention Simon obtained in order to get his partner out of the room as he realized the chair that had been occupied by his best friend was now empty. What ever it was Blair was impressed.

For about thirty seconds. Then he heard another snore and saw his sentinel sprawled face down on the other bed in the room. "Figures." He thought with a small smile. "It would take a lot more than an act of God to get him out of here." It seemed to him that both men were out for the count and he was happy they were getting some much-needed rest. The added bonus was that neither of his friends had found a way to hover in their sleep and he needed the quiet to sort some things out.

He was awake and alert, but Blair knew that was a relative thing. The painkillers he had been given were still roaming freely through his system and soon regardless of his wishes he would be asleep again. He remembered what had happened, every agonizing minute from the time the man had taken a knife to his arm, his systematic beating and the feeling in his pain wracked body as he began to slowly suffocate. Blair shuddered at the memories that were still too fresh in his mind, he could feel his would be killers hand on his chest as he waited for the last beat of his heart. He could hear the man's voice, the aroused whispers, the coldly stated facts about his own death. He remembered all of it, beginning, middle and end.

Beginning, another thing that would be haunting his nights for a long while. The look on Megan's face as the bullet tore through her, he had seen an apology written in her eyes in that instant and Blair felt an unfamiliar anger surge within him at the memory. Frustration burned with the burden of remembrance, he had been immobile with shock, had let any opportunity for defense slip away from him and he felt an unreasonable guilt over what had happened as a result.

He hurt, he was afraid and there was a sorrow within he could not fathom. Blair was tired to the bone and his one all encompassing wish was that he would wake up from this nightmare and have his life and the lives of those around him restored. Independent of his will, the tears began to fall.

The sentinel had become aware of his guide as soon as he regained consciousness, he had watched and listened to the younger man as he grappled with the recent events of his life. He knew Blair was remembering, the spikes in his heart rate and increases in his respiration had told the detective as much. It was however the pain, both physical and emotional etched in his partner's face that gave Jim an understanding of the depths to which that ran.

He was out of his bed and at his partner's side before the first of his tears hit the pillow. Jim perched himself on the edge of the younger man's bed and carefully pulled him into his arms. He admired and respected the strength rooted deep within his guide, the courage he displayed daily always impressed him, but every man had his limits and his guide had finally reached his.

Jim understood as he had found his the night before after Blair had fallen asleep and he once again catalogued his partner's new injuries. New bruises to go with the ones that had just begun to fade. Old bruises he had inflicted on the younger man him self. The sentinel had wept and stood for innumerable minutes in the embrace of his captain. Now he was returning in kind the comfort he had been given and held his guide in protection as the younger man sobbed against his chest.

The raw pain held in the cries of the man who clung to him renewed his own tears. So much had happened to them, yet both he and his best friend, his brother were still there, still alive and they would heal. The warmth of his guide's body filled him with that knowledge. In the years since Blair had blown into his life Jim Ellison had come to a number of remarkable conclusions and in the moment between the two men as he held his guide another was affirmed. He held within his arms his heart and soul. The unassuming way with which Blair Sandburg had given him friendship had removed the walls that had for too long separated Jim from the rest of his tribe.

Jim Ellison was not an ignorant man, and he recognized the value of the gift he had been given went far beyond his genetic advantages. His gift was brightest when his partner, friend and brother in all but blood was by his side.

"Thank you."

Jim smiled, still rubbing small circles on his partners back and repeated his guide's written words. "Anytime man."

Simon Banks was silently relieved as he observed his best team from his position in the chair and he prayed again for an end to the hell they had endured during the past week. Seven days had passed since the moment he believed the world as he knew it had come to an end. Seven days had seen a lifetime of pain, sorrow, fear and now a bit of healing amid the chaos. Seven days and an uncertain future still lay before them. Until Georges Tibidoux was in custody, locked far enough away that his men were out of reach, Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison were still very much at risk.

Part Thirty-two.

Jim Ellison smiled at the very cranky Australian woman reading her doctor the riot act from her bed.

"I don't think you quite understand me Dr. Parks, so I will repeat my self *again* very slowly this time." The doctor was about to interrupt but Megan held up her good hand effectively silencing the man's protest. "I am leaving. You've kept me here for three days, it is obvious that I am not going to die and I'm very tired of being here. I also have a friend that you and your staff seem reluctant to let me see and I won't have that. So GET ME THE PAPERWORK!"

Jim watched in amusement as the doctor flinched at the harsh quality of the inspector's last statement. He'd known for some time that Megan Connor was a force to be reckoned with and he took silent enjoyment when seeing the full force of the Connor resolve in action. Dr. Parks exited to get the appropriate papers leaving the two alone. "He is okay Megan."

"So you and Simon and everyone else keep telling me." She sighed. "I just need to see for myself. I need to know if he…" she trailed off and Jim saw the uncertainty written in her eyes.

"If he what, Megan?" he prompted.

She took a deep breath, wincing at the dull pain it caused her. "If he forgives me Jim. I let him down, didn't protect him from that monster. I let both of you down."

Jim shook his head as a sad smile touched his lips. "There is way to much guilt flying around here. Megan we all think we should have been able to do more. Blair thinks it's his fault you got shot. Simon thinks it's his fault for not having more uniforms in the area. Joel, Brown and Rafe think it's their fault because as Joel put it they've 'been a day late and a dollar short' since this whole thing began. I think it's my fault because it was my investigation to begin with. It's official now, everyone in Major Crimes is feeling guilty because some amoral sonofabitch attacked US. He stressed the last word. "Yeah this started to get Blair and I out of the way, but not one person we work with hasn't been hurt in some way. We're doing the best we can and it has to be good enough. If we start to crumble than that bastard Tibidoux wins and I'm not about to let that happen!"

Megan stared at the man before her in open-mouthed shock. "Who are you and what have you done with Jim Ellison?"

He laughed. "Same guy, I just have a little better perspective now."

"You're surprising as hell." Megan shook her head as she chuckled lightly. "Thanks Jim. Did you give the same speech to Sandy?"

"Actually it's his speech."

"Ow ow ow!" Megan hissed through her laughter. "God, don't make me laugh. It figures, not that I think you're incapable of such insight."

"You wound me, Connor." He smiled down at her. "Let's get you checked out of here and then we'll get "Sandy" out and then maybe the two of you can work out this guilt thing."

"Oh so the speech was his but he hasn't taken his own advice." She frowned.

Jim shook his head. "Not by a long shot. I'm hoping you'll help me out here."

The inspector arched her eyebrow. "Then screw the doctor, let's go."

Part Thirty-three.

Blair Sandburg sat on the edge of his bed contemplating his shoes. Rather he was contemplating the act of tying them. The coordination needed to complete the task seemed to be beyond him at the moment as he had tried several times without success to get his foot close enough to reach the laces and the thought of bending over to tie them was too nauseating to consider. Belatedly he realized it really didn't matter because he would be riding out of the hospital in a wheelchair anyway.

This time he was very much looking forward to leaving the hospital, this time he would have his friend and brother by his side. This time he understood that no matter what they faces from here out, they would face it together. That alone gave them better odds.

They wouldn't be going home however, that didn't particularly bother him, not
after what happened at the loft. He knew it would be some time before he'd be comfortable walking through the door to their home. The safe place had been contaminated again and he knew there would be many days he would see the man responsible standing in the doorway. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair there was nothing he could do about it now. The memories were there, they would always be there.

"Hey stranger."

Blair looked up to find the face belonging to the soft southern drawl smiling at him. "Hey Em." He slid off the bed and wrapped his arms around the shorter woman. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you awake." She replied pulling away slightly to take a good look at her old friend. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." he shook his head at her frown and clarified. "Though that's a relative thing right now."

"Judging from the way you look, yeah I'd say so." She glanced down. "Sit on the bed, your shoes are untied."

"Don't worry about my shoes Em."

"Sit!" the brunette commanded.

"What I'm a dog now?" Blair managed a little righteous indignation, he did have pride after all.

"Don't start with me Fido!" Emma retorted.

"You are not tying my shoes for me…again. Once in my adult life was enough of that particular brand of humiliation."

"Blair, give me a break. You were in a back brace and couldn't bend over. I was only helping." She explained putting her hands on her hips in exasperation.

"Did you have to help infront of the whole quad?"

"You're right, How silly of me. It would have been much better to let you trip over your shoelaces, fall on your face and wind up in traction." She answered sarcastically.

Blair threw his hands up. "Okay fine! But you're still not going to tie them now!"

"Blair" She warned.

"There is no winning an argument with you is there? You won't even take pity on the sick and injured." He did his best pout, if he stood a chance he'd have to make full use of the hurt puppy look.

The young artist scowled at him. "I am taking pity on you, hence the offer to tie your shoes. And you have won arguments in the past."

Blair snorted his disbelief. "We've known each other what…almost thirteen years and I can count on one hand the number of arguments I've won."

"I never said you've won a lot of arguments but you have won some." She stated. "Now give me your leg."

It wasn't going to work, he was loosing. "Fine just do it." He sighed defeated.

Emma smiled at her friend. "Thank you." she said as she happily tied his shoes.

"At least there are no witnesses this time."

Jim and Megan had been watching from the doorway and Jim took that opportunity to alert the two occupants in the room to their presence. "Hey Chief, having a little trouble there?"

Blair buried his face in his hands with a muffled "Oh man!"

Emma was trying hard to control her laughter. "Blair I am really sorry, I had no idea they were there."

"Don't worry Sandy we won't tell anyone, we promise don't we Jim?" Megan nudged her companion in the thigh with her elbow.

"Are you nuts?" Jim thought. "This is prime blackmail material, if anything it'll be good to keep me out of some tests." His actual reply was. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of telling anyone about this."

Blair fixed his partner with an icy glare. "You are such a bad liar Jim."

Jim just chuckled, albeit evilly and crossed to give Emma a hug. "We appreciate this Emma. Thank you."

"No problem, I'm glad I could help. Look I came to give you the keys and say a quick hello. I have a plane to catch and a little girl in Phoenix who'll be very angry at me if I miss the flight."

"How is the squirt?" Blair asked having regained some of his composure.

"Just fine. Her dad tells me she's grown another two inches and she is forever bugging him about coming to see her Jim, her Blair and her Simon. Greg is thinking of sending her to all of you for Christmas." Emma smiled and turned to Megan. "It seems she does not bug Greg to come see you or me and I will be discussing that oversight with her this week."

Megan laughed. "No worries, she sent me a Pokemon card two weeks ago for my birthday and some artwork that's now hanging on my icebox. She seems to take after her mom, it's quite good."

"I'll tell her you said so."

Blair stood beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Thanks again Em. Have a good trip okay?"

She turned into his embrace and sighed. "I would prefer to come home to healthy friends. Take care of each other."

"Promise." He gave her a tight squeeze and then let go.

"Y'all take care and be careful. I'll see you after I get back."
The young woman exchanged quick good byes with Megan and Jim and hurried to the elevator where the rest of her composure crumbled as the doors slid closed. She offered up a silent plea for protection for her oldest friend and two very new ones.

Blair looked at his friends. "She handled that well. I expected her to freak as soon as she saw the two of you."

Jim nodded at his friend, communicating with his eyes what he'd heard as the young woman descended in the elevator. "Her cabin was a great idea Chief, now all we do is wait for Simon and Blow this place."

"So how are we getting out of here anyway?" Blair asked. He'd fallen asleep during their original planning session after they'd realized that Tibidoux had dropped off the map. Everyone involved recognized the fact that until the man was caught Ellison and Sandburg were still targets. Since Megan had been injured she had become a way to get to the men. It was decided that wherever they went she went. Blair had suggested using Emma's cabin on Lake Denny as a safe house. It was away from town and easily defendable if the need arose. It would also be the last place anyone would think to look at them since the deed was still in her ex-husbands name. The how they were going to get there without being followed part of the conversation happened long after Blair had given in to the pull of the painkillers being pumped into his system.

"Through the morgue." Jim answered not wanting to go into the specific plan, mostly because the operation would be infinitely more difficult with a hyperventilating guide on his hands.

"Why do I not like the sound of that?" The observer asked suddenly feeling that an extended stay in the hospital wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"It will be fine Blair, trust me." the sentinel assured as he silently hoped fate would not make a liar out of him.

Part Thirty-four.

"Oh my God!"

"Blair just relax, everything will be fine, you won't run out of air I promise." Jim lay a comforting arm around the agitated man's shoulders.

"I can't do this. Oh God Jim there is no way!" the younger man backed away from his partner. "Jim I can't! There has to be another way!"

The sentinel was caught by the wide disbelieving eyes of his guide. He heard the young man's heart beating wildly and saw each muscle contract in cadence with the brutal tremors shocking through his body. At that moment Blair Sandburg was the living embodiment of panic, and rightly so. Jim knew this would be difficult for his friend, leaving the hospital in a body bag, the plastic material being so close to his face would only bring back memories of his very recent and very real near suffocation.

He and Simon had discussed at length the various options available to them and Jim had fought hard against his one. He couldn't subject Blair to that kind of torture again, especially less than four days after his attempted murder. In the end though, it proved to be the most effective ruse, the hospital was secured, they would not be seen as they made their way to the bowels of the hospital. They would leave in body bags from the morgue and be taken to a funeral home on the outskirts of Cascade and from there they could make good their escape to the cabin.

"Please Jim don't make me do this." The whispered plea brought his world crashing down around him. He couldn't not get Blair into the body bag and to relative safety and yet by trying to protect his partner he was causing unimaginable fear.

"Listen to me Chief." Jim said gently. "If I thought for one second there was a better way to do this, we'd be outta here. Do you trust me?"

The younger man's eyes widened for a moment and then slammed shut. "Yes." Came the strained reply.

"Then believe me when I tell you nothing will happen to you. You will be okay, I'll be right beside you." Jim approached the observer again and placed his hands on Blair's shoulders. "Trust me, Chief."

Blair gripped his sentinel's forearms tightly as he bowed his head and took in deep breaths to calm him self. "I trust you."

The detective slid a hand to the back of his partner's neck and pulled him into a fierce embrace, resting his head atop the mass of unruly curls he whispered. "Thank you."

Megan Connor has never considered herself a spiritual woman, but after witnessing the kind of trust built between the two men she counted as friends, she began to understand the true meaning of being blessed. She could see the light that surrounded them, feel its warmth and know its security.

The time had come to exercise his faith in his best friend. Blair felt sick, it was too real, the feeling of plastic surrounding him, the smell of it filling his nostrils, the death held within the small prison. "Jesus!"

"Close your eyes, Chief." Jim soothed. "Close your eyes and see somewhere else, somewhere open and full of light. Concentrate on that and we'll be there before you know it."

Blair nodded and closed his eyes. He would do this, he could handle it. He was not going to die, it would be okay. Jim had Promised him and he trusted that promise. He was afraid, but it wold pass, it had to pass. He needed to find the strength to make it to the other side of this test of his will, he could do this. He kept his eyes tightly shut as the zipper was pulled closed, inch by agonizing inch he felt himself being sealed inside, and panic threatened to overwhelm him. "NO!" he gasped as the bag closed over his head.

"It's okay Chief, you can breathe. Feel the air flow, you can breathe."

"I can breathe." He repeated the mantra over and over in his head as he fought the stifling confines of his temporary prison. Recent pain and fear flooded him but he held on as he felt himself being lifted. He did not cry out as the plastic came to rest against his face. "I can breathe." He resisted the urge to turn away from the horrifying feel of the material on his cheek. He held on, biting back sobs that threatened though the silent tears he was unable to control. He held on through infinite minutes of silence, he held on as he walked through the inferno. Time stopped and he held on through the eternity of it. He held onto the trust, faith he had in his sentinel, onto the promise and he fought to stay afloat in the sea of terror battering his mind and body. "I can breathe." Soon became, "I trust you." he replayed the promise over and over until light once again entered his world.

Part Thirty-five.

Simon Banks glanced in the rear view mirror, once again assuring himself that his people were okay. To assure himself that one Blair Sandburg was okay. During the past ten days he had seen the young man endure horrors no one should ever face and the police captain had honestly thought as they opened the body bag to release him at the funeral home, that it had finally been too much.

The younger man's body had been rigid with tension, an endless stream of tears mixed with the perspiration that had soaked his clothes and hair and he had refused to open his eyes. Excruciating long minutes passed as they tried to coax him out of the place in his mind he had retreated to and Simon despaired. He had come to see the observer as a friend, even more as a son. He respected the young man and seeing him hurting in a way he couldn't mend ripped at his heart. He didn't understand what it was about the anthropologist that demanded protection, as Blair was more than capable of taking care of himself, but still it was an instinct that drove his partner, himself and just about everyone who had come to know this remarkable young man. Simon had always been loath to admit it out loud, but the feeling was undeniably there.

Jim had finally lifted the younger man out of the bag and sat with his partner cradled in his arms. It amazed Simon the level of tenderness this tough, hard as nails, former ranger was capable of where his partner was concerned. The captain watched in silence as the sentinel became guide and helped his best friend reconnect with reality. Unable to resist the call of his brother the younger man had eventually responded with a heart-breaking sob, in the next instant the two had become four as Simon and Megan lent their support.

"Don't make me do that again."

"Never, Chief. I promise."

Now as Simon drove to their destination he regarded them briefly, Blair was curled up on the back seat of the sedan with his head resting on Jim's thigh. The detective had an arm draped protectively over his shoulder absently rubbing the younger man's arm and the captain was awed by the trust and comfort they found within each other.

That trust had been hard built in the years since they had meant, Simon had seen it take some crippling blows. Their bond had come back stronger every time and he realized that their bond went deeper than Sentinel and Guide, deeper than brotherhood. It was a soul bond, two people destined to be together, a remarkable and rare friendship that would withstand any assault it encountered. There was a part of Simon that envied that, but he would never deny them. He would be forever thankful he'd been witness to it at all.

In the back seat Jim listened to his partner. No words were spoken but he listened none the less. The heartbeat that had raced so violently earlier was again at its normal strong pace, relaxed and steady. His breathing was deep and even and his skin had lost its cold clammy feel. There were no more tremors and Jim knew his guide was at ease.

"Simon you need to turn here." Jim said pointing to the nearly hidden dirt road off to the left.

"I forgot about this." Blair said groggily as a particularly deep rut jarred the vehicle's occupants. "You might want to go very slow Simon, the road here is bad."

"No kidding." The captain grumbled. "This doesn't even qualify as a road…I can't imagine what this is doing to my suspension."

Five minutes, during which Simon swore he heard ugly popping noises coming from the underside of his car, later the road widened out infront of the cabin. In reality it was a two-story log home. "Nice cozy cabin." Megan said looking at the impressive structure.

"All the comforts of home and running water." Blair managed a small grin. "Speaking of which. I get the shower first…please."

"No objections here Sandy." Megan yawned. "I just want a bed, a soft bed, with real sheets, not the sheet rock they pass off as sheets in the hospital."

"It's all yours, Chief." Jim knew the younger man wanted to be rid of the smell of plastic, he didn't blame him. The sentinel had his sense of smell dialed all the way down, the scent of fear and death in the black plastic had nearly overwhelmed him. He knew there had never been another body in the bag that held his partner. It was what that innocuous black bag represented that made Jim cringe.

As the foursome entered their temporary sanctuary unfriendly eyes watched and waited for the right moment to rid himself of the thorn in his side forever.

Part Thirty-six.

Water. He could wash it all away if he tried hard enough. If he really committed himself to the endeavor, the memories would slip down the drain along with the smell, sweat and fear that had too long adorned his body. If he wanted it bad enough he could wash all of it away. The will to make the impossible happen eluded him and Blair was shouldered with the memories after everything else had been eliminated.

"I survived." He whispered. "I can live with this." No truer words were spoken. He could not allow himself to be overwhelmed by events that were beyond his control. He had been a victim, he had been hurt, tortured but he was alive. He intended to stay that way.

He did not live in a fool's sanctuary, he knew there would be dreams. He knew he would wake up screaming. He knew there would be moments of waking fear intense enough to cripple him. They would fade as his soul cleansed itself of the evil that had touched it. He would carry on, there were no other options.

Blair leaned into the pulsating spray of water and sighed as it pounded the tension out of stiff muscles. He couldn't remember knowing a better shower cleansing and relaxing his body as his heart and mind began their own purification. He adjusted the head of the shower to a steady stream and let the interior rain fall against his face. The warmth of the cascading water soothed him and he smiled. It would be all right. What mattered most was still intact and his battered psyche was full with that knowledge. He was not alone, he would never truly be alone again and he was not walking this path of pain in solitude.

He had long considered Jim his Holy Grail, but in his time of reflection he understood fully what that meant. Yes he had found his Holy Grail, but it wasn't in the form of his long sought sentinel. His prize was in the form of the brother of his soul. Jim's abilities had brought them together, but the bond came from deep within them and filled their blessed need to connect. He had a brother, someone who would disagree with him, yet jump to his defense and offer his support with out condition. It had been a long road for both men, Blair understood Jim's issues with trust as Jim understood his own fear of commitment. They both had overcome years of conditioning, the belief that was intrinsic to them that nothing was forever. It was joy that they were wrong.

Blair stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a plush green terry cloth robe. A gift from another friend. She had taken care to ensure all their needs were seen too and he was curious how she knew his old robe had finally become too threadbare to wear. He glanced at the note that accompanied the robe.

YOU NEED THIS. It read, three simple words, and he had needed it. It was more than just an article of clothing, it was comfort, a warm embrace from an old friend who understood as well as anyone the healing power of a terry cloth robe and a cup of chamomile tea.

That was his plan, he would curl up with a mug of tea and then get some much-needed rest. He understood the nightmares would come, but it was the blessed peace in-between that he sought. The comfort of the twilight would still be there and somewhere among the demons that haunted him perhaps there would only be a dream, a dream of a friend and a warm place to rest his battered heart.

Part Thirty-seven.

Georges Tibidoux was a patient and resourceful man. He had to be, in his world the sharks were many and viscous. He had built a reputation for being ruthless and he was feared, it was the way he wanted it. The more bodies he produced the more willing his colleagues were to cater to his requests. The bodies of tow detectives, a police captain and one inconsequential observer would add to his pull with them and remove another obstacle in the path of his prospering business.

The chemist smiled in the darkness of his vehicle as he watched the road leading to the log home that housed his victims. He wasn't a deluded man, he didn't see this as a game of cat and mouse. It was simply something that needed to be done, the fact he would take pleasure in the killing was secondary to the goal. Their deaths would be quick and efficient, he would be on his way home before their bodies began to cool. His Marie was cooking a feast for him that evening and he did not want to miss her exquisite Duck a L'orange.

Marie was a wonder to him, every bit as cold to the outside world as he was, but fires burned deep within her dark eyes when they were alone. She was a brutal lover violently marking him as her own every time they came together in passion. She was the woman who matched every part of his black soul, a perfect companion and very useful with the position she held. She was loyal and had provided him with invaluable information for his latest endeavor. It was unfortunate the people he'd selected to carry out his work had been woefully incompetent. It mattered no more to him, the imbeciles had been dealt with and he would insure his future by removing the garbage himself.

The sight of a dark sedan pulling out from the dirt road brought Tibidoux out of his musings. He waited until the car was a safe distance away and then followed.

Simon hated the twisting mountain road he was on. He truly was a city boy and preferred the security of a four-lane interstate any day of the week. The narrow winding two-way roads in the mountains were barely big enough for his vehicle and the lack of a suitable shoulder always made him uneasy. He glanced in the rear view mirror and caught a glimpse of metal glinting in the moonlight. "Shit!" he swore. "What kind of idiot drives in the mountains at night with out headlights."

"The kind that's following you." He answered his own question.

His heart slammed into his chest as he realized the ramifications of what that meant and he was radioing dispatch with his position before he was aware his hand had moved. "Patch me through to Henri Brown!" he demanded. Before the dispatcher had the opportunity to respond Simon's car was rammed from behind. The police Captain grabbed the wheel with both hands dropping the radio handset on the floor of the car and looked once more in his rear view mirror. The vehicle behind him was a large pickup truck and it was coming at him again.

Tibidoux pushed the accelerator to the floor and rammed the sedan for the second time. The force of the collision sent the smaller vehicle careening off the roadway and down a steep embankment. The front end of the car disintegrated upon impact with the copse of large pines forty-five feet from the road. The chemist stepped out of his truck, he pulled a bottle filled with gasoline, lit the rag wedged into the top and casually lobbed the cocktail down to the wreckage below. He watched as the fire took hold and when he was satisfied he returned to his truck and headed back the way he came. "One down three to go." He smiled as popped in a CD and strains of Shostokovich filled the cab. Giving one final glance behind him he saw the orange glow of a rapidly growing fire.

Part Thirty-eight.

Henri Brown stood on the back deck overlooking the lake watching the lone figure walk along the shoreline. Something about the man he was sent here to protect had always intrigued him. Jim Ellison was a study in contrasts. Upon casual glance a person wold think the man had no emotion what so ever, he was cool, diffident and detached. The man's public persona was intimidating and Henri suspected that's how he got results. The man behind the super cop mask was entirely different, yes Ellison was still somewhat emotionally stilted, Henri suspected that had more to do with his upbringing than his present circumstances. The cracks in the ambiguous façade he maintained were showing and little bits of Jim the man were being seen. More and more often.

It was pretty clear to all who worked closely with the Detective what or more importantly who was causing those cracks to show. Blair Sandburg, Henri shook his head now there was an enigma. The younger man's appearance totally belied the intelligent, compassionate man within. When the observer had first arrived on the scene he had been dismissed by most of the members of major crime. It didn't last long though on the kids first day at the station he had proved to be a resourceful and quick thinking individual. All around appearances were deceiving and he knew the two men who proved it.

He had been at the home for two days, arriving a day early just in case someone was watching the place. He had been dropped off a mile up the road and Hiked in. if anyone come looking they were in for a surprise. When everyone else had arrived that morning he had been shocked. Sandburg looked to be on the verge of collapse and Jim looked ready to kill anyone or anything that came near his partner. Henri had maintained a respectful distance, having become dependant on his head being attached to his body he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

Now Sandburg was upstairs asleep, quietly for the most part and Jim was walking along the edge of the newly frozen lake. Henri could hear his foot falls in the snow and every once in a while a heavy sigh would drift back to his ears in the stillness of the night. It was getting colder and there was snow coming, at least the weather guessers thought so.

He was about to call out to Jim when the shrill ringing of his cell phone shattered the quiet. "Brown." He answered but was greeted by silence and strange muted crackling sounds on the other end. He bit back a yelp of surprise when Ellison appeared by his side. The man moved like a cat. "There is no one there." Brown told the other man.

"Let me listen." Jim demanded it had not been a request.

Henri handed the other detective his phone and watched as Jim listened, the tendons in his jaw bulged and tightened as he listened for a moment and then his head shot up and he scanned the wilderness surrounding them. Evidently the detective found what he was looking for because he was off the deck and giving orders before Henri was aware the man had moved.

"H call dispatch and have them send every available person out here, call the local sheriff, call the fucking national guard if you have to and get inside, don't let Sandburg or Connor out of your sight and NO ONE gets in do you understand me? NO one!" without another word Jim Ellison disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter Thirty-nine.

Simon fought the urge to flee his burning vehicle until he was certain his assailant had left the area. He hurt everywhere, pain radiated out ward from where his seatbelt had kept him from slamming into his dashboard as it was his head had connect hard with his side window shattering it when his car plowed into the tree line. Simon was to the point he could wait no longer, the heat from the fire was oppressive and the flames were getting closer. Madman waiting for him or not, Simon had to get out of his car.

He pushed against the crumpled door with all his strength and fear clenched his chest when he realized it would not budge. The window, he could get out of the window, he had to get out some way. He braced his hands against the empty window frame and pulled himself out with a grunt, he landed hard on his back effectively knocking the wind from his lungs. "Move!" his mind screamed at him. He tried, he honestly did but all he managed was an ineffectual twitch of his hand. His head was swimming and his vision of the night sky obscured by the smoke from his burning car and his constantly blurring vision. He was going to die. He had escaped his car only to be burned alive beside it and somehow that did not seem fair. "God damnit!" he swore and then choked on the acrid smoke filling his lungs. Simon Banks was going to die and that really pissed him off.

Jim had seen the orange glow from a fire a fair distance away, when he had listened to Henri's phone he had heard the sounds of it and then extended his hearing and he knew. It was like listening to the event on stereo and instinct told him that his captain was somehow involved and so was Georges Tibidoux. They had been found. He ran through the dense wood, splitting his hearing between the chaos infront of him and the corrupted sanctuary behind him. He could now make out the source of the fire, a car, Simon's car was engulfed in flames. He pushed himself to cross the distance separating him from the wreckage when he recognized his captain's still form on the ground dangerously close to the growing flames. In moments he was at the fallen man's side pulling him away from the fire and into the relative safety of the trees.

The older man spasmed and convulsed as he pulled fresh air into his seared lungs, the simple act of breathing causing him unspeakable agony. Through the fog of pain he thought he heard a voice. Someone familiar but he lacked the ability to give it more thought as he spiraled out of control into the painless night that beckoned him.

Jim sat back on his heels after examining the Captain. Nothing was broken, though he was sure the other man had sustained a concussion judging from the size of the lump on the side of his head underneath the blood. He had fortunately sustained no major burns from the fire, but the sentinel worried about the damage done to Simon's lungs from the smoke and heat of the blaze. He had a more immediate problem. How was he going to get the unconscious man back to the house, and what would be waiting for him when he returned? He knew he had to get back as quickly as possible but there was no way he would leave his friend out in the wilderness alone and unconscious. Tibidoux was out there and Jim knew it wouldn't be long before he struck the house. If he hadn't already, it had become impossible for Jim to monitor the sounds around him over the roar of the blaze before him, try as he might he could not regain the control he needed to filter out the sound of the fire. It was almost more than he could handle just tuning into the sound of Simon's heartbeat. He had to get moving, with a silent apology to his captain he slung the older man over his shoulder and made his way back toward the house.

Chapter Forty.

"Where's Jim?"

Henri Brown looked at the younger man before him noting anger flashing in his eyes and thought to himself, "Damn if these people don't get more surprising every day." It was more than anger he saw within the blue depths, it was rage. It was clear to the detective that Blair Sandburg had enough and that in his mind was dangerous and frightening.

"Where the hell is Jim?" Blair was standing toe to toe with Brown.

"I don't know." Henri was indulging in a little jaw clenching of his own. He knew the situation would soon be taken from his control. A Sandburg without an Ellison when there was trouble was a Sandburg who wouldn't be in the room for long. "He took off into the woods after the call and told me to call for back up."

"Shit!" The observer shouted to no one in particular. "Idiot! Goddamnit! You forgot your fucking cape man! What the hell does he think he's up to running off into the woods alone, at night with bad guys on the loose!" he ranted. "Man that's it I'm going out there after him!"

"Blair!" Megan blocked his path. "Think about what you're doing here. You are in no condition to go traipsing through the bush at night."

"And Jim is?" Blair asked incredulously, stepping around her and heading to the door.

This time it was Henri who blocked him. "Do not make me do something I'm gonna regret later Hairboy." He said menacingly.

"Don't go there H." Blair's voice was dangerously low.

"Don't make me pal. My first priority is to keep you safe and if it means I have to put another dent in that thick skull of yours so be it. You are not leaving this house!" Henri jabbed his finger into Blair's chest to punctuate his statement.

It was the wrong thing to do. Henri Brown could not have guessed what would happen next, but he had a split second to see the fury rise behind the other man's eyes before a fist drove hard into the side of his head and stars exploded in his eyes.

Blair didn't watch the detective fall to his knees, he was moving out the door before Brown hit the floor with the rest of his body. He was done with it; he was tired of playing these games. If Tibidoux could find them there, he could find them anywhere. Now the game had become primal, it was him or them. If Blair had any say in the matter, Tibidoux was going down and he was going down the hard way. Enough was enough he wanted his goddamn life back!

Megan did her best to help Henri to his feet, it was more of a challenge than it should have been, but one handed what did she expect? "Are you okay?"

Henri waved her off. "Yeah." He grimaced gently probing the side of his head. "I can't believe he hit me."

"I was rather shocked my self." The inspector was still unable to grasp what she had seen. "You'd better go after him."

"I can't leave you alone, Megan."

"Henri." Megan gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm a cop. I have a gun. I know how to use it, with only one hand even. Now go after Sandy before he gets himself killed. Ellison will kill both of us if anything happens to him. Now GO!" she resisted the urge to plant her foot squarely in the man's butt and kick him on to the front porch. "I'm going to count to three Henri and then I'll smack the hell out of you and go after him myself!"

Henri silently counted to ten and then to fifty as he retrieved a flashlight from the utility drawer in the kitchen. He wondered how it came to be that he was consistently on the loosing end of these battles of will, which deity did he offend in which life to suffer this aggravation? They didn't know what was going on, they didn't know if Tibidoux was out there at all, but Ellison had run off half cocked and then Sandburg had gone after him fully cocked. Henri now had an intimate understanding of the colloquialism "the inmates running the asylum." He was living it. The problem was that his cop instinct was screaming at him that they were in a very dangerous situation and the hunter was near. It well and truly sucked to be them at that moment. "Lock the door Connor and relive your childhood by hiding. If you get yourself dead I am really going to be pissed!"

Megan forced a grim smile. "I love you too, Henri."

Detective Brown nodded and headed off into the darkness in search of his errant comrades.

Chapter Forty-one.

"This is not a good position to be in." Simon thought grimly as he studied what he could see of the ground, his swaying hands and the legs of the man who was carrying him. "Hey put me down." He said, or rather intended to say, Simon wasn't entirely sure he'd managed intelligible since whomever was carrying him had not put him down. "Hello?" still there was no response. "God damnit put me down!" he bellowed and immediately regretted it even though the desired result had been achieved and he was released, abruptly and painfully. "Ow!"

His field of vision was immediately filled with the concerned face of Jim Ellison.

"Jesus Simon I'm sorry." The younger detective apologized. "I was listening too hard. Did I hurt you?" He stared at the battered form of his captain and amended. "Worse?"

"Dropping a man with a head injury on his head is always bad." Simon rose shakily to his feet thinking he liked sitting on the ground better. There was not a part of him that didn't hurt and his head insisted on spinning like a top. The mental image that played along with that thought brought a laugh out of him followed by a round of hacking coughs.

"Simon maybe you'd better sit down." Jim said lending support to the wavering man.

The captain waved him off. "Just give me a minute." He wheezed. "Tibidoux is here we have to keep moving."

"I know." Jim pressed his lips together in a tight grimace. He wanted that bastard, he knew there would be no peace in any of their lives until the man was caught or killed. The latter being the preferable option. Cop or not, Jim Ellison wanted Georges Tibidoux dead. "Brown is with Sandburg and Megan, we'll get you back to the house and them I am going after him. He's out here somewhere, I can smell the mother fucker."

"Jim," Simon held up his hand. "We go back to the house and we wait for backup. You are in no condition to go after him alone."

"I'm fine Simon."

"You are so full of shit Ellison and it wasn't a suggestion it was an ORDER!" the older man shot back. "Now let's get moving before this whole thing goes to hell…more than it already has."

"Yes sir." Jim said tersely.

"And Jim, thanks for saving my ass back there."

Jim nodded and both men began walking again, Simon staying close behind his detective. The night had become pitch as the last of the sunset had faded leaving a dark moonless sky overhead. The captain plowed into Jim as he stopped abruptly, holding up a hand and tilting his head to the side. Simon knew the gesture, he had seen it many times. The sentinel was listening to some far off sound. "Shit!" Jim hissed.

"What?" Simon questioned.

"I am going to kill him. God damnit!" Jim swore and changed direction. "He's a lunatic! No fucking regard for his own safety, He doesn't even have a flashlight!"

Simon who was still a little slow on the uptake and only processing about half of what the younger detective was saying still knew he meant Sandburg had gone out after Jim. Ellison was right the kid was certifiable. "God Bless America!" coming from the captain's mouth it was a curse. "He's just determined to get himself killed." He grumbled as he tried to keep up with a sentinel who had gone directly into full blessed protector mode. Making the transition in less than one second. It had to be some kind of record.

They broke through the tree line, Jim keeping a close eye on his partner who was making his way slowly along the small cliff at the edge of the frozen lake. "Sandburg!" He hesitated to shout but he needed the volume to make sure the younger man heard.

Blair's head shot up and he squinted into the darkness eventually seeing Jim and Simon heading towards him. "Oh thank God." He whispered with relief.

Jim quickly crossed the distance separating him from his guide, scanning the younger man with his senses on full. Once satisfied Blair was all right, Mt. Ellison blew. "I am going to kill you!"

Blair glared at his friend. "Kill me? That's just great Jim!" he spat. "What the hell is wrong with you man? You have a death wish? What Jim, what were you thinking running off like that? God you fucking amaze me, you're pissed at me because I came after you? Get a grip, you're not in the best condition here man and I came to help. If anyone is going to be killing anyone it will be me killing you for being an idiot!" he threw his hands up. "I don't beli-." He was abruptly cut off as Jim placed a hand over his mouth.

Jim had no time to shout a warning as he heard the rifle cock, he shoved Simon to the side and turned to shield Blair in one swift motion as the sound of gunfire cracked through the air, the force of the bullets impact into his shoulder sent both sentinel and guide over the cliff falling six feet onto the frozen lake. Jim briefly thought "What next?" as the thin ice gave way beneath the weight of their bodies plunging them into the frigid waters.

Chapter Forty-two.

"Ow! ...cold!" Blair thought as he tried to push upward out of the freezing water only to be met with the resistance of Jim's body on top of his pushing him further into the dark depths until finally his back hit bottom. The water couldn't have been more than fifteen feet deep but flat on his back under water and the body of his partner had him near panic. He pushed again and was relieved to feel the man above him respond by grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him toward the surface.

Both men reemerged gasping and coughing, Blair's mind was quite literally scrambled and he did not resist when once again Jim grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to the edge. They were still treading water and the cold was beginning to tell on the observer. "Jim we have to get out of the water." He managed through chattering teeth. The sound of gunfire once again shattered the night. He was close, very close. "Jim!" Blair hissed and reached out for the detective's shoulder.

The second the younger man's hand connected with his injured shoulder Jim cried out. The pain and cold having ripped away his control over his sensory dials. Without thinking he lashed out with his uninjured arm effectively removing the cause of his pain. His hearing was so focused on the sound of the advancing predator he failed to hear the pain filled gasp that came from the man beside him. Nor did he notice when moments later his partner's eyes slid closed and he disappeared beneath the surface.

A second later Simon's head appeared over the edge of the cliff. "Jim!" the older man hissed. "Are you two okay?" the police captain received no response from the detective and noticed the absence of one police observer. "Jim!" he shouted this time and again received only silence as an answer. Simon realized two things simultaneously, first Jim had zoned and second he was going for a swim. He slipped his body over the edge of the cliff and had the fleeting sensation of weightlessness before he crashed through the ice beside where his two men had gone in. he came up for a breath before going under in search of the missing Sandburg. He didn't search for long, encountering the young man weakly struggling to reach the surface a few feet above. Simon grabbed the anthropologist around his torso and with two strong kicks broke the surface of the lake. He held the gasping, barley conscious observer's head above water. Damn he was cold, they had to get out of the water immediately. He looked around trying to gage where they were in relation to the flat shore of the lake and caught the reflection of the cabins porch light to his left maybe a hundred feet away. They could make that, they had to make that. They were dead for sure if they didn't.

"Sandburg you with me here?" he asked the young man he held. Blair managed a nod. "Okay were gonna move here."

"J-j-jim." The word was barely audible but Simon clearly heard the next word. "H-h-h-hurt."

"I'm not leaving him behind but I need your help, he's zoned."

"Shit." Came the soft exhalation. "S-s-ucks to be me right now. Last t-t-time I t-t-touched him, d-d-d-dec-c-c-cked m-me."

"Sorry kid." Simon truly was, but there were no options the sentinel needed his guide to do the guide thing. Simon would try to run interference but it was Sandburg's show. He just didn't know if the kid had it in him to perform. The question became mute as a heavily accent voice rose above them.

"Well mes amis this will be like shooting ducks in a barrel."

Simon groaned silently. They were screwed.

Chapter Forty-three.

The voice Henri Brown heard sent chills down his spine.

"…like shooting ducks in a barrel."

"Sonofabitch!" he swore silently. "Not on my watch." He crept slowly up behind the rifle wielding psycho as the man continued to babble over the cliff side about problems that just wouldn't go away. "What was it with long winded criminals anyway?" he thought. He could almost hear Tibidoux saying "I would have gotten away with it too if not for you meddling kids" It was time to end this once and for all. "Drop your weapon!" he snarled as he cocked his weapon by the criminals ear. When Tibidoux did not immediately obey his request Henri added. "Right now all I need is a reason to blow your head off…it doesn't even have to be a good reason; you'll be dead and I'll be a fucking hero. Now drop it!"

The chemist slowly complied, letting the rifle fall from his fingers to land at his feet. Henri kicked the weapon away. "You're under arrest Tibidoux." He was reaching for his cuffs when the man attacked, forcing Henri's gun arm up he tackled the larger man sending them both to the ground.

Simon heard the sounds of a struggle above him but he was out of time, if any of them were going to leave the water alive, they had to get out now. He pulled the unresponsive observer with him as he crossed the few feet to where his detective was still treading water. Barely. Even Jim couldn't tolerate this kind of cold for this long. Blair would be of no help to them. The younger man had lost consciousness and was succumbing to the bone numbing cold of the water. It was up to Simon to snap Jim out of his zone and if he couldn't he'd have to make a choice, he honestly didn't know if he could do it. "I need a miracle. Oh please God I need a miracle."

Pain. Sandburg had said Jim was injured, the thought of what he was about to do turned his stomach, but pain was better than death at this point. He eyed his friend closely and found the site of the bullet wound. "Forgive me Jim." He whispered and clamped his hand over the injury squeezing the affected area harshly. The younger detective roared, literally roared and Simon went under briefly to avoid the fist that flew in his direction. The body he clung to tensed as the water closed over their heads and tried to jerk away, that fact heartened the police captain as he quickly resurfaced, Sandburg was still with him. "Jim!" he shouted as his head emerged from the water.

The sentinel's surroundings had snapped back into focus as he registered the agony shooting through his shoulder. He saw Simon go under and reappear a second later yelling his name. It was then he realized that Simon had Sandburg in a recovery hold. He panicked and began to scan his partner's vitals finding and latching on to a slow, irregular beat. "Simon we have to get out of this water now!" the weak sound of his own voice startled him.

"No shit." The captain grumbled under his breath. "Welcome to the crisis."

Slowly they made their way along the edge until finally they felt the lake bottom beneath their feet. Supporting a marginally conscious Sandburg between them they reached the shore and hauled themselves out of the frigid waters. They were in sight of the house when Jim collapsed pulling the other men down with him. Simon would have laughed at the irony if the situation weren't so damn tragic. As it was once his body met the ground he knew there would be no getting up again. He was cold, hurt and too tired to move. He knew he couldn't have been in the lake for more than ten minutes, but it had been long enough to sap what little strength he had. His apology went unheard by the two men beside him as he fell into the open arms of darkness.

Chapter forty-four.

He thought a person was supposed to be numb when they were freezing to death and vaguely wondered to himself why every abuse his body had suffered during the previous ten days had picked that moment to make themselves known. Couldn't he just have a little peace before he died?

They were going to die. He no longer doubted that, too much had happened and now the three of them were lying in various states of consciousness on the ground. The man had been right about shooting ducks in a barrel, they were indeed sitting ducks. He hated ducks.

At least they were no longer in the lake, he took some consolation in that. The thought of drowning, again, did not appeal to him then again neither did the thought of freezing to death or taking a bullet to the brain. Truthfully he was angry. They had come so far, survived so much and now they were done for. There would be no last minute rescue, it was only a matter of time before Tibidoux or the biting cold killed them all.

Blair Sandburg made a decision. They were not going out like this. They were not going to die out here on their backs, or stomachs, whichever the case might be. He was going to get Megan, he could make it to the house and she could help. He could only hope that Henri was kicking Tibidoux's ass into the next county and that the calvary was going to arrive soon.

He had to get up, he had to move. Getting his abused body to obey took a monumental act of will. The final connection to his senses was made as he heard a gun cock to his left. He opened his eyes and what he saw ignited a rage within him. Tibidoux was pointing a gun at Jim's head. Fury fueled him as he surged upward with a roar of defiance and knocked the chemist to the ground, the sound of the gun firing was muted in his own ears, every sense and feeling had been pushed back to make room for the all consuming hatred for the man who had been hunting them. The wrath of Blair Sandburg was making it's self known, fury's avatar replacing the battered anthropologist and attacking without mercy the man responsible for their suffering.

Georges Tibidoux was taken off guard by the sudden movement of the young man and the seconds hesitation had cost him. He found himself flat on his back staring into cold blood hungry eyes and for the first time since he set his plans in motion he saw his own imminent failure. No, he would not allow that to happen, this was about more than just his business, it had become personal. These people refused to die. No one refused the will of Georges Tibidoux.

The criminal bucked the younger man off and scrambled to his feet, surprised that his opponent had recovered just as quickly. The longhaired man was moving around him like a predator looking for a weakness and the feral snarl sweeping across his face told Tibidoux everything he needed to know. The kid had found what he was looking for. The instinct for self-preservation was strong, but not stronger than the chemist's arrogance and he pulled the knife tucked in the back of his pants choosing to meet the attack head on.

Blair launched himself at his foe again taking them both to the ground, he felt a pressure in his side as he came to rest on top of the other man but paid it no mind. He grabbed the older man by the hair and drove his skull into the rocky ground. It was going to end right here right now and he continued to pulverize his opponent until unknown hands pulled him off his prey. He struggled wildly against the hold keeping him from finishing his task. The other man was still alive, he could hear the moans coming from him. Who ever was holding him back didn't understand that as long as the man lived they would never have peace, they would never be safe, he would just keep coming and coming until they were all dead. He has to die! "Let me go! The son of a bitch is still alive!" he screamed.

Joel Taggart had an intimate understanding of hell as he ran down the path to the lake and came upon the still forms of his captain and Jim Ellison. The visage of Blair Sandburg pummeling the life out of their suspect however would haunt him for much longer. He pulled the kid off the man he was trying to kill and tried to calm him. "Blair you got him, ease up, it's over." his statement was validated as Rafe cuffed the barely conscious man. "It's over!"

A familiar voice penetrated the haze of rage in his mind and he heard the words very clearly. It could not be true. "It won't be over until he's dead."

The man in his arms had ceased struggling as he spoke and the resignation in the younger man's voice tore at him. "No Blair it's over, you got him, he can't hurt anyone now." He did a quick check of the young man and noticed the hunting knife protruding from his side. "Oh sweet Jesus."

The soft oath brought Blair's attention back to reality completely, with that came the awareness of pain. He looked down at the knife. "Joel?" he whispered. "I'm in trouble."

With that quiet statement the cold young man in his arms lost consciousness. "Where are those medics?" he shouted as he felt for a pulse and found none.

Chapter Forty-five.

"Come on kid don't do this." He pushed his fingers against the ice-cold skin of the younger man's neck and finally found what he was looking for. "Hang on pal. You got it, just hang on." He looked up at Rafe who was checking on Simon and Jim, his eyes begging the question of life.

"They're alive." Rafe confirmed. "Colder than ice and Beat up but alive."

In the next moments the paramedics arrived and swarmed the injured men. IV's were started and the chilled bodies were stripped and bundled in blankets. Joel kept a close eye on the team working with Sandburg, he knew they were more than competent, but with the knife still sticking out of the younger man's side Joel needed to be sure they handled him carefully.

"Joel?" Jim Ellison's voice called out weakly. The captain turned to his friend. "He's going to be okay Jim." He assured as he followed the other man's gaze to the observer.

Jim nodded. "He's tough." He exhaled with a small smile. His eyes seemed to loose their focus for a moment as a memory surfaced in his addled mind. He reached out to Joel and grabbed his forearm with surprising force. "Henri!"

"Easy Jim, he's at the house I think." Joel tried to calm him.

"No!" Jim shook his head. "Henri fought Tibidoux, on the cliff…heard gunfire." His head fell back to the stretcher as his strength faded. "Sorry, so so sorry." He mumbled as his consciousness faded.

"We've got a man still out there!" Joel shouted. "Possibly wounded."

Megan had made her way down the path and overheard the tail end of Jim's conversation with Joel and her heart fell. "Oh no no no!" without stopping she pushed passed the uniforms and headed toward the cliff with Rafe hot on her heels. Minutes later she stopped dead as the beam of her flashlight passed over the prone form of Henri Brown. "Oh please no!" she cried as she fell to her knees beside him and frantically searched for an indication that he was still alive. She found what she was looking for and breathed an uneasy sigh.

Rafe swept his light over his partner's body easily finding the source of the blood covering his abdomen. It was a gut wound. "Ah Henri damnit!" he whispered as he applied pressure to the injury.

Awareness came back to Henri in a wave of agony. "Stop!" he gasped.

"Henri easy now." Rafe soothed.

"No Ahh God man Stop!" he screamed.

"Henri! Henri look at me!" Megan demanded. "Come on babe look at me."

"Sorry Megs." He rasped as he met her gaze. "Should have got you that ring. I'm sorry."

She leaned forward and kissed him. "I don't care about the stupid ring." She choked back a sob. "I never needed it."

"I know." He smiled briefly and then gasped as a fresh wave of pain tore through his belly. "GOD!"

"Shhhh just listen to my voice, just look at me, it's going to be okay." She caressed his face wiping away the tears of pain spilling from his eyes.

"Not this time." He whispered. "I'm sorry, never got a chance to tell them."

"No, no You'll be fine." She kissed him again. "We'll tell them all when you're better."

"Wanted to tell the world I loved you." he gasped. "Wanted to tell them all you said yes."

Megan fought back tears as she listened to him. "You can take out an ad in the times, Henri. Just promise me you'll hang on, promise me you'll keep fighting. Don't you dare think about dying!"

"Never made a promise I couldn't keep Megs." He arched his back restlessly trying to ease the pain shooting through his abdomen. "Can't start now."

Megan held his gaze until the medics arrived. Henri heard her tell them not to let him die. "They don't have a choice baby." Was his final thought as he walked into the welcoming arms of darkness.

Chapter Forty-six.

The young nurse had never seen a more battered group of spirits then were gathered in the small OR waiting room. Three waiting for word on three more each set of eyes telling a grim tale of hurt. He felt for them, cops always took these things hard. No one took it well but with cops their pain was culled deep within a collective soul born through a legacy of honor. He stood just beyond the doors ready to push through and deliver the news when he caught sight of the woman.

He'd been a nurse for many years and seen all kinds of anguish but hers was different. She looked betrayed. He understood, he had felt that brand of torment in his own heart long ago. Part of him had never recovered. He truly hoped this woman fared better. He also hoped the name on his chart belonged to the man she was waiting for. He pushed open the doors and met the brothers and sister in blue head on.

Megan prayed every prayer she had ever learned she repeated silently again and again, hoping if there were indeed someone listening they would hear her. As the hours ticked by the light of hope dimmed and she began to accept the real possibility that she had spoken her last words to him. Acceptance shattered her, her rage, fear, sorrow and helplessness coalesced into a hell that threatened her rationality. She had reached the end of her mental rope and the despair beneath her was ugly and growing. "How am I going to do this?" she asked herself. "How am I supposed to keep on without Henri?" she buried her face in her hands and fought back tears that insisted upon falling. It had been a one in a million shot with them and she had taken it and won. One day seven months ago he had made a bet with her and lost. The cost to Henri, he had to buy her dinner. She had been expecting Wonder burger up until Henri had told her to wear a dress. It had turned out to be the most enjoyably romantic evening of her life. Henri Brown had wooed her well. The friend had become so much more that night and she realized midway through the evening things between them would never be the same.

Now it was falling apart, every thing she had ever hoped for but believed she would never have was being torn away and she hurt in a way she never thought possible. "Please don't let this happen. Oh God please don't let him die."

She didn't know how, when or why the thought of life with out him became unbearable, but it had. She had always been independent and free willed, never truly needing anyone to keep her going and it was so safe alone. There was zero risk in a solitary life, but there had also been little fulfillment. He had changed her life, he had changed her and she refused to believe that fate was that cruel. She refused to believe he would be given to her only to be taken away in a sick twist of fate. It was not going to happen, he was not going to die. The day he was well enough she was going to marry Henri Brown and they were going to live happily ever after. There were no other options.

She looked up as a tall man wearing surgical scrubs entered the waiting area. Her heart pounded in her chest as he approached them. Megan was filled with dread at the solemn look on his face. "Please God don't." she pled silently.

"You're waiting for Detective Ellison?" he asked them.

Joel Taggart stood and approached the man. "Yes we are."

"I'm Nurse Tackett, Dr. Fischer asked me to come out and let you know that Detective Ellison came through the surgery fine and has been moved to recovery and will be in his own room in a couple of hours. The bullet passed straight through missing the bone. He does not for see any loss of function and expects the detective to make a complete recovery." He paused and took in the looks of relief coming from the three Detectives. "He would have given the information himself but he had to assist on another patient."

"Is there any word on Henri Brown or Blair Sandburg?" Rafe asked.

The nurse shook his head. "Both are still in surgery. I know they've had difficulty stabilizing Mr. Sandburg due to his previous injuries and Hypothermia. They are doing everything they can for both of them and we'll let you know as soon as we have any further information." He looked at the woman, still seated quietly taking in what he had to say. "They're in good hands."

Megan nodded. "Thank you." she said softly.

Tackett turned and went back to his duties feeling as though he had let them down. There was something about the three of them that told him there had to be three happy endings or none at all. He hoped the surgeons still working had a couple of miracles up their sleeves because those two men were going to need them.

Chapter Forty-seven.

Simon had developed a new respect for pharmaceutical companies and the, in his opinion, humanitarian efforts they so selflessly pursued. Yes he still ached and he was still doing a fair impression of a human Popsicle, but the pain that had been plaguing him since he had awoken in the emergency room was reduced to an assortment of dull aches and for that he was extremely thankful.

He needed to be able to function when the man occupying the bed next to him came to. He needed to relay the information he had to Jim and Simon knew it would sound better if he wasn't screaming from pain after every third word. As it was the news hadn't been great. Sandburg was out of surgery but critical and Brown was still under the knife. It did not look good for either man.

Simon sighed, the only thing any of the rest of them could do was wait. It was just as well Ellison was still out, the captain knew his detective would only be climbing the walls and pushing to get out and be at his partners side despite his own injuries.

The other benefit Simon had gained from the numerous drugs being pumped into his system was a relatively short attention span. He couldn't find the ability to concentrate on the hell that was still raging for his people in the aftermath of this God forsaken case. The only bright spot in the whole mess was that Georges Tibidoux was no longer a threat to any of them. The man was still alive, but it was a relative thing. If he ever did regain consciousness he would never be a functional human being again. Getting his head pounded repeatedly against a rock had left him virtually brain dead. "Score one for Sandburg." He thought with out charity for the fallen criminal. He winced at the bitterness of his thoughts knowing the young man wouldn't see it that way. There was a perverse rationality in the hope that the kid lived long enough to regret his violent actions. Simon hoped that regret lasted no longer than a second. Tibidoux got what he deserved, there was poetic justice in the possibility that the man would live a long life as a vegetable.

The door to the room opened revealing a worn and tired looking Joel Taggart. Simon studied His friend short sightedly, he really couldn't see much at all and his glasses were a part of the charred heap that was his car. "Hey Joel." He greeted.

"How ya feeling Simon?" Taggart asked as he sat in the too small chair by the Captain's bed.

"I've been better." he frowned. "Any news?"

Joel managed a small smile. "Henri is out of surgery and his doctors are optimistic. He's stable and holding his own, blood pressure is up and they repaired the damage to his stomach. It's going to be a while before he's up and around, but they think eventually he'll make a full recovery."

Simon sagged back into his pillows feeling another weight lift from his heart. "That's terrific news Joel. Any more on Sandburg?" he asked hoping for a double shot of good news.

"No change." Taggart shook his head. "It's a wait and see situation. The damage from the knife was minimal, but the cold water and shock with everything else the kids been through in the last ten days…"

"He's a fighter."

Joel turned to face the man on the other bed and smiled. There was more faith in that statement then he thought he'd ever heard from the man. "You're absolutely right Jim."

"He'll be just fine." The sentinel closed his eyes and drifted back into his slumber.

Simon lay in his bed, mouth hanging somewhat agape, staring at the softly snoring figure opposite him. "I guess we've been told." He said not doubting for a minute that the words Jim Ellison had spoken were true.

"That we have." Joel chuckled. "That we have."

Chapter Forty-eight.

Two days later Jim was sitting at his partner's bedside watching the younger man sleep. Blair had not regained consciousness until late the night before and it had been a brief period of wakefulness. Jim had been with him, flagrantly violating hospital policy, he slipped undetected into Blair's room just shortly before the younger man's eyes opened for the first time since he had been admitted. Jim had known, he would never be able to explain how, but he had known his guide was about to wake. He needed to be there. He needed to let Blair know that it was over and they were all safe.

The little trip had cost him though and he found when he was ready to leave he lacked the strength to make it back to his room. "Hospital karma." He mused as he recalled the look on Nurse Bhenn's face when she found him on his butt in the hall. She calmly turned around and left him there, returning half a minute later with a wheel chair. She said nothing as she helped him into the chair and wheeled him to his room. She assisted him into his bed, still without a word and Jim began to hope he would get away with his little stunt. The nurse had a soft spot for him, he'd known that from the start and he'd developed an abiding tolerance for her as well. "You are so full of it Ellison." He heard his guide's voice ring in his head. It unsettled him that his conscience carried Sandburg's voice. Of course his conscience was right, he more than tolerated the pretty nurse. She was charming, intelligent and had a terrific sense of humor he actually looked forward to seeing her. He would never of course admit that out loud, "especially after last night" he thought with a grimace. The woman who seemed to be so forgiving of his excursion had decided after getting him settled that he had needed a sponge bath! Jim had protested loudly.

"I don't think that's necessary!" he pushed himself into the corner of his bed.

"Now Detective, you've worked up quite a sweat with this late night field trip of yours. I know you don't want to sleep like that." She smiled a wicked smile at him as she pulled back his bed covers.

"No really!" His voice cracked as he tried to protect his modesty. "I don't mind at all!"

"Oh please Detective." She rolled her eyes at him. "You've got nothing I haven't seen before."

He lost the argument and submitted to the humiliation of a sponge bath. "I have got to stop winding up in the hospital." He grumbled.

"You and me both."

Jim looked into the unfocused blue eyes staring back at him and grinned. "He speaks." He placed his hand over Blair's. "How are you feeling Chief?"

"Like shit." Blair responded bluntly. "But I'll be okay." He added seeing the sentinel's frown.

"I'm gonna hold you to that."

Blair managed a tired smile. "I remember you telling me that everyone else was going to be fine. You did say that didn't you?"

"Yeah Chief, Simon's getting out today and Henri's doing a lot better, he's going to be here for a while but he's going to pull through fine."

Blair felt the pull of sleep tugging at him once again, he fought against it finding more comfort in the voice of his sentinel that in the darkness that beckoned. "So we made it, right?" he forced his eyes open.

"Yes we did." He brushed an errant curl away from the younger man's face. "We made it through." he watched his partner struggle to keep his eyes open. "It's okay to sleep Blair. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"You need to rest too man. You got shot remember."

Jim smiled. "Not something I am likely to forget Sandburg. Don't worry about me. I'm getting plenty of rest, there is a certain nurse making sure of it!" he chuckled. "Now get some sleep, or I'll recommend Nurse Bhenn give *you* a sponge bath!"

Blair's eyes widened in horror at the thought. "Sleep is good man." He said as he allowed him self to drift off secure in the knowledge that his friends were safe and would be well physically. He knew the emotional healing would be a long time coming, but he had no doubts it would come.

Chapter Forty-nine.

"Did you get it?" Henri Brown looked expectantly at his partner as he entered his hospital room.

The young South African stared cluelessly back at him. "Get what?"

Henri levered himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the dull ache still at home in his abdomen and glared at Rafe. "I cannot believe you forgot!" he hissed.

"Oh wait you meant this?" He pulled a small jewelry box out of his suit pocket.

"You are such an asshole!"

Rafe chuckled. "You're point?" he queried.

Rolling his eyes Henri sighed. "Give me that…and thanks man."

"Your welcome." The GQ detective smiled, delighted to see his friend and partner close to his old self. It had been three weeks since Henri had been shot the night the whole nightmare came to a head. Three very long weeks of recovery, but Henri was going home today. He couldn't help but wonder at the relationship his partner had managed to keep hidden. He did know he was glad they had found one another, during the days right after the shooting Henri always seemed to do better when Megan was with him. The joy that found with in one another was tangible and Rafe was truly happy for both of them. "So when is she going to be here?"

"About fifteen minutes." He ran his had nervously over the ring box before opening it. Inside rested a half carat round cut with an emerald on one side and a sapphire on the other. "Perfect." He whispered.

"That it is my friend."

"Are we interrupting something Detective?" Simon Banks voice boomed from the doorway.

Henri snapped the box closed. "No sir."

Blair and Jim followed the captain into the room. "You're looking pretty good there H." Jim said grinning at the younger detective.

"Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself." He returned the smile. Both men had spent a great deal of time talking about the night of his shooting dealing with a mutual guilt about not preventing the disasters that had occurred. They talked, sometimes argued and eventually began to deal with what they could and could not have controlled. Jim Ellison had surprised him, the voice of reason was not something he had commonly associated with the man, but a week before when he laid all of their actions out on the table things had fallen into place and what was most important became clear. They had survived and the threat had been removed. He looked at Ellison's partner, the kid was still a little pale but his eyes were full of life and his face was as animated as ever. "So Hairboy" he began, "Where is Ms Callahan?"

Blair stopped in mid sentence to Rafe and faced Henri a little look of bewilderment creasing his forehead. "Working…why?"

"Oh nothing." He said innocently. "I just heard you've been spending a lot of time together."

The younger man cast a pointed glare at his partner. "What is it with you guys? Emma and I are just friends, we have been for years. Friends, that's it end of story!"

Jim put his arm around his guide and leaned into his ear. "It's the extra special friends that tie your shoes for you right Chief?" The flush of crimson that spread across his partner's cheeks brought a collective laugh from the men in the small hospital room.

"Did I miss something?" Megan asked from the doorway.

Jim grinned. "Oh nothing Just reminiscing about shoe tying."

Blair's faced reddened even more as Megan gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry Sandy." She said with a wink. She looked at the other men in the room and arched her eyebrow. "This is quite a party we have here."

Henri looked suddenly unsure of himself as he said, "Uh well that's sort of my fault Megs." He managed a small smile as she turned to face him. "Could you come here for a sec?"

Megan's heart pounded in her chest as she slowly crossed to him. She knew what was coming and it thrilled her beyond words, but she didn't want him to feel as though he had to do this. "Henri, if you're uncomfortable-."

He held up a hand. "I want them to know." He whispered. "I meant what I said to you….and I will be taking out that ad in the times." He grinned. "I'd like to get down on one knee and do this the right way, but I'm not quite up to that just yet." He looked into Megan's face, her smile lighting up the room and her eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached up a hand brushing his thumb against her cheek. "Megan Connor I love you. I have for a very long time now. We don't often get second chances in life, but I feel like I've been given one. I am not going to waste it. You said yes to me once." He pulled out the ring box and opened it, removing the ring. "Will you marry me?" he asked as he slipped the ring on her finger, tears stained his face as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh you know I will." Megan leaned into him wrapping her arms around him and feeling the blessed warmth of his body radiating into hers. "I love you."

The couple stood wrapped in their embrace, near oblivious to the cheers and well wishes coming from their friends. They stood in a position each thought they might never share again and simply loved each other.

In that room, in that hospital, miracles and second chances thrived.

~fin~