Hiding in plain sight by Roo

Prologue

It was a gradual thing. It was subtle and done with such finesse that Jim didn't see it for what it was at first. He would have coped better, known quicker if Blair had just come out and admitted it to his face. But Blair was good at shadow dancing, making you think one thing and then hit you over the head with something else when you weren't looking. So far Jim was not thinking, not seeing. The whammy over the head came later, when it was almost too late. He should have known better. Really he should.

Jim was used to being blind sided, leaps in the dark, and the bogey man in the woodshed, under the bed, crashed helicopters and survival in the jungle. The truth of it was that neither of them expected the mad man in the Loft.

Their Loft.

Sanctuary.

Home.

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

Blair

Blair locked his car, hitched his backpack more securely on his shoulder and turned towards Rainer Hall. Another day another dollar. It was early, earlier than he had to be, but here he was. He could crash in his office for an hour or two or something. He was sure that Jim must be able to hear the way he was grabbed, heart thumping, sweating and gasping into wakefulness during the night. Night after night.

He unlocked his office door and sank into the chair at his desk. He was going to mark some student reports and then…and then he was supposed to be where?…..damn he had a timetable somewhere didn't he? Before long he realised he could not remember a word of the report he'd just read and that he had drifted into thinking about the events of the last few days.

Coming round tied up in chains with his wrists and ankles manacled and gagged with that horrible yellow scarf had been bad. Very bad. But he wanted to talk and soon removed the gag. Blair always talked his way out of things, he tried to distract him or change his mind…something…anything. And all the while his mind was screaming ….Jim…Jim…. Get me out of here…please . Buying time, hoping for a miracle. Then realising he was doomed when Lash forced the liquid down his throat. He tried hard to resist, but the madman gripped his nose shut, half choked him and he sucked in the liquid with his next breath. Tried to spit it out.

Jim had appeared out of nowhere and rescued him from…no… not going to say his name….

He remembered yelling and a fight between Jim and Him and the crash of plate glass as they fell through it. Blair had been half out of it by them, but aware enough to know he might not be rescued after all. With the drug slowly seeping through his system he had registered many gun shots….Jim!

And then after what seemed like a millennia -the sound of someone stumbling towards him, a blurry figure reaching for him, and gathered him up and held him tightly against a solid chest, transferring much needed warmth to his chilled skin. He hoped it was Jim, he really did. The darkness rushed in.

Waking in the hospital he'd panicked at first not sure if it was another weird game of….go on say it…say it Lash's …. or not. Just as he got worried and the monitors picked his increasing heart rate Jim rushed in, a doctor and nurse close behind him.

"Blair! You're okay, this is the hospital, and you're okay. You're safe. I'm here now. Lash is dead."

"wha…? No! Get chains!" he hissed as he realised something was stuck in his hand…..an IV.

"It's okay now, Sandburg. It's okay. The chains are off," Jim had soothed gripping one hand and checking his forehead with the other. "I was talking with the doctor outside for just a second. You'll be fine. You did really well out there."

Blair gave a weak smile. "My Blessed protector…" he croaked, Jim passed him some water to sip, the doctor nodding his okay. Blair knew Jim had done some sort of Sentinel equivalent of a medical exam. He'd seen, heard and touched him and he hoped the guy hadn't smelt or tasted him…on the other hand, his mind thought crazily…interesting data could be had….file it for later.

"What was that you mumbled?"

"Saved my life…" said Blair caught in emotion, realising he was okay, in hospital and seeing Jim solid and whole.

"Damn right I did!"

"You okay?" Blair suddenly asked hitching himself up to peer at Jim.

"Shhh, settle down. I'm fine. A few bumps and bruises that's all."

"Sure?" queried Blair, remembering thuds and a fight and the glass breaking.

"Yes. The doc's going to check you out and see if you can get out of here tomorrow morning okay?" Jim patted his leg and stepped out of the room for a minute.

Blair nodded, tired. Not really thinking…home…the Loft…..NO!

The doctor checking his readings and about to check bruises and abrasions looked at him in concern as Blair gasped and flinched at something only he could see.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I uhh...still feel bad; maybe I can stay a little longer?"

"I see no reason to keep you after this batch of tests comes back to confirm no kidney or liver damage," the doctor reassured him, writing up his chart as the nurse collected the samples.

Jim came back in.

"Look Chief we don't have to go back to the loft. We can book into a hotel."

"No man it's your home. We can't let him win this one. I'll be okay. I want to be with my things, my stuff, you know," rallied Blair valiantly.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"Yes."

Turning over to get comfortable Blair sighed. He didn't want to go home and yet he knew he had to, that he should. He breathed out slowly, his eyes scrunched shut. He felt a hand fiddle with the IV tubing and pull the sheet and blanket up to cover him more. Jim…

"Blair?" Jim asked softly and he felt a warm large hand cover his free hand.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I didn't get the beeper message earlier…"

"S'okay."

"No it isn't! If I'd been there..."

Blair opened his eyes, "He'd a got you too, then who'd rescue us? Can we go home… soon?"

"Not if you don't want to yet, or the doc says no."

"I'm okay."

"Yeah, right." said Jim scornfully.

"I will be. Sleep now- talk later..."

Blair reached into his pack for a bottle of water, pushed the reports aside and rested his head in his hands. The sounds of staff and students seeped through his closed door.

And he had gone back to sleep in the hospital but they didn't talk later. He should have known. Jim wasn't that kind of guy. And while Jim had definitely hovered in the hospital and kept looking at him since he came home- he didn't do anything else. Absurdly he found Jim's lack of concern annoying. One second he was rejecting the anxiety the detective felt for him but at the same time he wanted the Blessed Protector back. He wanted to feel warm and safe.

Get a grip Sandburg, you're all over the place!

Blair knew he'd put on a really good performance at Major Crimes the day he'd come home and he'd gone in to give his statement and see everybody. He almost bounced on his toes but couldn't quite pull that one off. They watched the news report in the bull pen and afterwards he'd reminded Jim about the Blessed Protector shtick. He asked Jim if he meant what he said and Jim said he'd done everything right, but maybe the big guy was just being polite. His acting worked and they had some weird conversation about tats and earrings as they got in the elevator.

Jim thought he was okay, Blair was dealing with it-he'd checked his humanity at the door like he accused Jim of doing. But Blair hadn't and never would. Jim should know that by now.

Blair felt so angry and mad- at himself, Lash and Jim too. Clearly his diversionary tactics were working on Jim and the gang in Major Crimes.

He should be strong, he was. Usually. Not now. Lash had proven it. How could he be so stupid? Waiting for Jim to appear and then bam! the door was kicked open. A split second to register it wasn't Jim and then he fought back with everything he knew. Jim was going to be pissed at the trashed loft- the third time in as many months. Until finally he was overpowered by brute force.

Blair checked his watch. Damn time to go to work, where had the time gone? He could do work- he wasn't sure about home anymore.

He made it through the day taking classes, retreating back to his office supposedly doing some research. He knew something had to change when someone banged on his door and came in- scaring him out of his chair, heart lurching, adrenaline pumping.

Fight or flight- it gets you every time.

Of course it wasn't Lash, just a student wanting an extension on an essay. He'd always had an open door policy. Ha, that was a joke, right? He kept telling everybody that he was alright and now the student must think he was a complete idiot, seen a ghost or something. More shocks like this and he was going to swoon like a character in a cheap Victorian novel.

Time to go home. Except he didn't want to. He dragged things out as long as he could. He hoped Jim was home before he was, so he wouldn't have to sit in an empty loft and wait for the door to open. Either that or pretend to be asleep.

Time to put on a happy face, he thought as he went to his car. He got in and turned the key but nothing happened, it just died on him. He sat there not thinking. Turned the key again. Nothing. A bit like he felt at present.

Now he really would be late and have a real excuse for Jim. Or he could call Jim. Except he didn't want to. Jim had rescued him enough lately. He could walk home.

"Having car trouble, Blair?" asked Jake, a fellow TA, on the way to the bus stop.

"Yeah."

"Heard you trying the engine. Did you leave lights on or something? Maybe the battery died?"

"Man, that's all I need. Guess I'll walk home."

"What about your friend the cop, aren't you crashing at his place for a while?"

"Um, yeah. But he uh, he's on a case, won't be back. And I'm thinking about looking for another place anyway."

"Why not come back with me and see Tessa while you're at it. She likes all your wacky tribe tales. She cooks a mean lasagne."

"I'm not good company right now Jake."

"Even more reason to take an evening out, man. We heard about what happened. Come on, one night- what harm can it do?"

Blair was back at work- he existed. He was coping wasn't he? He was busy, so it was okay to be late home now and then wasn't it? He wasn't running away, was he? Was he?

Who am I now?

Do I make a good you?

Get a grip. Do something. Don't just sit there like a wet fish…

"Okay. Let's go."