Disclaimers: Don't own the boys, Pet Fly does. Just borrow them. No money.
Special thanks to kick ass beta, Arianna, without whose guidance I'd be grammatically unsound.
Thank you to wolfpup for giving my work a fantastic home.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: H/C, Angst
Special Notes: This story is the sequel to MoonDew's Leave Of My Senses (housed at Cascade Library). This is my answer to her challenge for a sequel.
RETURN OF THE SENSES
Sam Mallory
Blair ran his fingers through his hair with a grimace. His headache was getting worse, but he had hidden it from the doctors well. After all, he was the master of obfuscation and without Jim around to ensure his honesty, he figured why bother. "Damn Jim and his stubborn sense of guilt!" Blair hissed angrily.
I can't believe he's gone, that he could just walk out of here while I was lying here unconscious and never look back. Oh, God, what am I gonna do? I don't want to think about it if he's really gone. Blair closed his eyes, rubbing his fists over them to stave off the emotions that have been so near the surface since the kidnapping. Maybe, he'll be waiting at the loft when I get out of here. Maybe, he changed his mind, Blair paused his thinking as the door opened.
"How are you today, Mr. Sandburg?" Dr. Kelly asked warmly, already examining his patient as he came in the door.
"Great, thanks. I ate my breakfast and lunch like a good little patient, so I'd really like to go home if you don't mind," Blair snapped, pushing himself up and out of the bed, a slight grimace marring his young features.
The doctor smiled knowingly as he shook his head at his patient's stubbornness.
"Well, your blood work came back and the antidote you were give by Detective Carre seems to have fully reversed the sensory reaction. Your hearing and sight tested normal, but don't be surprised if you get headaches for the next few weeks. It's one of the side effects of the toxin used. Your blood chem. levels are back to normal and I feel that as long as you get plenty of rest and fluids and have somebody to watch over you, it should be no problem to arrange for your discharge," the doctor finished kindly.
"Yeah, my roommate was a medic in the army, so I'll be alright," Blair lied, holding the doctor's gaze out of necessity for his sanity, desperate to be home. There was no point in explaining to the doctor that his so-called roommate, had fallen back on his fear based responses and had taken off faster than a jackrabbit, with not a word as to his destination. He's not really gone, Blair thought hopefully.
"Well, then, I see no problem with going ahead with your discharge as long as you follow the instructions that I'll send home with you," Dr. Kelly informed him with a gentle smile.
Blair heaved a sigh, thanking the doctor, "Thanks, man, that'd be great. No offense, I just hate hospitals, especially the food," Blair finished, his face puckered in disgust as his hands gesticulated wildly.
"I'll send the nurse in with the paperwork as soon as possible," Dr. Kelly informed him as he strode purposefully toward the door.
Doctor Kelly paused in the doorway. "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Your Captain is waiting outside to take you home, assuming I ok'd the discharge orders. Like I said, just take it easy and you'll be fine." The doctor smiled at his patient knowing full well that his orders were unlikely to be followed.
"Yeah, thanks." Blair pushed the covers back and tentatively slipped from the bed. Holding his hands slightly away from his body, he crossed the room a bit unsteadily and grabbed his clothes from the closet. Dressing quickly and feeling completely numb, Blair sat in the visitor's chair and waited for the Captain to enter. As if on cue, there was a light knock on the door.
"Yeah, come in," Sandburg grumbled, his headache surging up behind his eyes causing them to water.
"Here are your discharge papers and instructions, Mr. Sandburg. I need you to sign each of those at the bottom. There you go," his nurse finished as she tore the instructions from the clipboard and placed them, along with his meds, in her anxious patient's hand. She smiled flirtingly with the anthropologist who barely noticed she was in the room.
Simon shook his head as he realized that Sandburg had not hit on the nurse a single time. He hadn't even spoken to her. Something was definitely not right with the kid.
"Thanks. Let's go, Simon," Blair mumbled with a scowl as he brushed passed the concerned Captain and made for the elevators, never once checking to see that the Captain was behind him.
The ride to the loft proved uneventful as Blair politely ignored all of Simon's attempts at conversation. Simon fingered Blair's wallet and keys, handing them over to the young anthropologist.
The gruff Captain cleared his throat, silently cursing his best detective for putting him in such an awkward position. "Jim wanted to make sure you got these. He, uh, put all his money into the wallet, um, here," he finished uncomfortably, shoving the wallet and keys into Blair's shaking hand.
Blair opened the wallet. "There's almost a hundred dollars in there," he said, stunned at the gesture of his friend. His friend who deserted him while he was in the hospital and left, pausing long enough to place money in his wallet for what? Blair's blood began to boil as he pictured Jim taking the money out of his own wallet and placing it into his injured Guide's. Guide, what a joke!
"Blair, he wanted to make sure you were taken care of, that's all," Simon explained warily, placing a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder.
Blair shrugged out from under the touch, his face carefully masked against the volatile emotions raging within him. "Yeah, well if he cared so damn much, he'd still be here, now, wouldn't he?" Blair snapped at the Captain, turning toward the window to hide the tears forming in his eyes.
Arriving at the loft, Blair jumped out of the car quickly, and then threw the money on the seat of the car. "Thanks Simon. I'll see ya," Blair managed as he turned sharply on his heel and walked as calmly and quickly as possible to the loft.
Simon stared sadly after the young anthropologist, wondering if he should go up and comfort his friend. I'll give his some time to settle in, then stop by, he thought to himself as he pulled away from the curb. Looking down at the money, he cringed thinking about how Ellison would have responded to the kid's insolence.
Once inside the loft, Blair's resolve to remain calm crumbled. He locked the door and placed his keys in the basket that Jim had set up so he wouldn't lose them. The thought of his partner sent him reeling in anger as he grabbed the basket and hurled it across the living space.
"Damn him!" Blair yelled as he tried to get his bearings after his short lived outburst. Feeling distinctly unsatisfied, Blair whirled on the contents of the loft. His books were still on the coffee table where he had left them before this whole mess started.
Blair felt the rage burn deep within him. His Sentinel had abandoned him. Unable to restrain his anger any longer, he grabbed the edge of the coffee table and flung it toward the balcony doors, smiling in satisfaction at the crash of wood and glass that reverberated throughout the loft.
He surveyed the damage numbly and headed to the kitchen where, he washed his antibiotics down with a beer and grabbed another, heading toward the balcony.
Walking over the glass fragments without restraint or care, he passed through the new "doorway" and sat quietly on one of the patio chairs to look out over the city. He watched indifferent to the sights around him. Blair, numb with the pain of losing his friend, fell into a restless sleep and dreamed of his Sentinel.
Simon scowled as the tap on his door broke into his thoughts about Ellison. "What is it?" he called out. Rafe and Brown came in quietly, closing the door behind them.
"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" Simon inquired.
"Well sir," Rafe began tentatively. "Ellison's forensic reports are coming in and he hasn't been here for the past few days. Is everything alright?"
Henri took over for his partner. "You know Ellison and Sandburg, sir. They could find trouble in a convent. We just want to make sure they're okay."
"Just a minute," Simon replied as he crossed his office to the door and yanked it open. "Connor, Joel, come on in here."
Simon paused as he waited for everyone to settle down. He held his hands up signaling his need for quiet. "Okay, Ellison's on leave until further notice." At the shocked gasps around the table he continued, "This does not leave this office people," Simon ordered, checking his officers to ensure this was completely understood. "Jim's walked. I don't know where he is. Before you ask, neither does Sandburg."
"Bloody hell," Connor murmured before anyone else could catch their breath.
"How's Hairboy takin' it?" Brown asked tentatively.
"To be honest, I thought I'd give him a little time to 'process' the whole thing. I was planning to drop by after work to check on him," Simon informed his men. "He was quiet and distant, mixed with an unhealthy dose of irritation, when we left the hospital." Simon observed with a sigh, tossing his glasses onto the table in front of him.
Joel sighed, "If you don't mind, Simon, I'd like to ride along with you. You know, make sure the kid's okay," Joel entreated as he got up from his chair and made for the door, shaking his head sadly.
"Poor Sandy," Megan sighed, trying to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes. Sandy didn't deserve the way that Ellison treated him. Maybe she would stop by later as well. "Well, Jim surely stuck his foot in it this time, didn't he?"
Blair moaned in his sleep as the coldness began to invade his nightmares. His chestnut hair blew gently across his tortured features as the chilled night air wreaked havoc with his system.
Trapped in his hellish nightmare of the horror he'd survived, Blair moaned again at the darkness that engulfed him. It was so dark even his Sentinel had been temporarily blinded until Drey had given them a candle to provide a tiny point of light. A tiny point that Blair couldn't see, but his Sentinel had reassured him it was there.
The silence was oppressive and he felt so alone. His heart told him that Jim was right there and would never leave him, but his head assaulted him with images of those things he'd lost. Without sight, he would never see a rainbow, the sunset or his best friend's face. Blair sighed. Without hearing, he would never hear the birds, the ocean crashing on the shore or hear Jim grumble when he left his clothes on the bathroom floor.
Blair's hands were twitching and he knew that he would be losing his sense of touch soon. Jim had been holding his hand, but his running off at the mouth about how 'cool' it was to have the opportunity to think had caused his Sentinel to pull away from him. He closed his eyes and returned to his internal ramblings. He trusted Jim and knew they would get out of this alive.
Blair groaned, realizing even in his nightmares that he may never see his Sentinel again. The thought pulled painfully at his heart leaving him only one option as outlet for the overwhelming anguish... he screamed.
Simon and Joel knocked on the door for nearly 10 minutes before they gave up and used the key Jim had given to Simon for emergencies.
Simon gasped as he opened the door and took in the disarray. Jim had always kept the place neat as a pin. It was obvious that someone had trashed the loft. The double doors to the patio were lying in pieces of shattered wood and glass with the coffee table, reduced to mere splinters, cast off to one side of the doors.
Joel placed his oversized hand on Simon's shoulder as he surveyed the damage. "Jesus, Simon. I hope that the kid wasn't home when this happened," he whispered softly. "This is the last thing he needs."
Simon sighed. "Unfortunately Joel, I think the kid's the one who did the damage. Take a look," Simon suggested as he pointed at the crushed picture of Jim and Blair's fishing trip amidst the glass from the doors.
"Sandburg?" he hollered, using a more gentle tone than his normal bellow. Simon walked around the loft as he waited for a reply. "Sandburg, are you here? Come on kid, give me a sign here." Simon called as he walked through the loft.
Simon was checking the upstairs loft as Joel checked the kid's room when a scream startled them into action.
"That was Blair!" Joel exclaimed, running into the living room space.
"It sounds like it came from the balcony," Simon whispered. He knew the kid was probably having a nightmare.
They rushed out onto the balcony, their alarm growing as they came upon the bedraggled anthropologist. They stopped short, gazing at Blair lying on one of the patio recliners, obviously in the throes of a nightmare.
Blair had fallen asleep in one of the patio recliners and the nightmares plagued him for his loss.
"Sandburg?" Simon asked, laying a hand on the younger man's shoulder, his expression somber.
"Blair?" Joel tried, hoping to get a response from using his first name instead.
Simon glanced around the balcony, shaking his head at what he saw. There were empty beer and wine bottles scattered around Blair's chair as well as a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels still clutched in his hand.
"Damnit, kid. Are you trying to kill yourself?" Simon demanded as he tried to pry the bottle from Blair's freezing fingers. "Come on, Joel. Help me get him inside," Simon ordered, as he dragged the unresponsive police observer out of the chair. Joel and Simon managed to manhandle the kid into the loft and deposited him on the sofa.
Simon sighed deeply. "Blair, come on kid. Snap out of it!" he commanded, his deep voice, shaking with emotion.
Joel moved into the kitchen to start some coffee. "Jesus, Simon. What the hell is wrong with the kid?" Joel asked quietly, his question brimming with the emotions he tried to suppress.
"I don't know, but we'll find out. First of all, call Brown and Rafe. Tell them that Sandburg's unwell and that we need them to make some calls for us. Have them call someone to come in and fix these doors and I mean yesterday. It's too damn cold in here and the kid doesn't like the cold!" Simon exclaimed, barely holding onto his temper.
Between the two of them, they hauled the now waking Sandburg into the small bathroom and Simon ordered him to take a hot shower. Simon only left the bathroom when Blair began to disrobe, his numb fingers undressing by rote.
Damn, I miss the bouncing, Captain Banks thought sadly to himself.
The sound of retching brought Simon racing back to the bathroom to find Blair hunched over the toilet trying to rid his body of its internal organs. Grabbing Blair's hair gently, he held it, whispering gentle assurances until it was all over leaving only the dry heaves and Blair was gasping for breath between each one. Finally, the heaves abated leaving him twitching under the stomach cramps.
"Thanks," Blair grumbled beneath his breath and finished undressing to get into the shower and clean up.
Twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opened and a very wet grad student walked out, a towel clutched around his waist. He jumped as he realized that someone else was in the loft with him besides Simon.
"Joel! What are you guys doing here?" Blair inquired, growing more embarrassed by the minute. Looking around at the state of the loft, he thought sullenly, "There goes my observer pass."
Simon shook his head at the inquiry. "We came to check on you, Blair," Simon admitted as he looked over toward Joel. "It's a damn good thing we did, too, or you'd probably have froze to death on that balcony. What the hell's going on, Sandburg?" he snapped more from worry than anger.
"What do you mean?" Blair asked, avoiding the question, as he made his way to his room to pull on some sweats.
"What do I mean?" Simon bellowed as Joel crossed over to hand the Captain a cup of coffee. Joel's heavy hand on his shoulder and disapproving look gave him a moment to pause. He decided to wait until the grad student returned to continue in the conversation, allowing himself some time to calm down.
Blair walked back out onto the balcony wearing a pair of grey sweats and pulling his hair back into a pony tail, the glass crunching beneath his slippers, the pair Jim had given him last Christmas, knowing how he hated to be cold. Blair shook himself, trying to steer clear of thoughts about Jim in front of the Captain lest he lose it again.
"Blair, can you explain the state we found you in?" Joel asked gently, crossing the room to hand Blair a cup of steaming coffee.
"I was just outside thinking. I do that sometimes when I've got a lot to figure out," Blair explained, shrugging while trying his hardest to maintain eye contact. That was the real trick. They always knew you were lying if you couldn't maintain eye contact.
"And the empty bottles?" Joel prodded, his face frozen in a frown of worry.
"A little something to jump start my ability to think freely," Blair obfuscated. "Look, I'm fine," Blair lied. "I admit, Jim taking off threw me for a loop, but I will be fine," Blair finished, looking at the floor. Damn, I lost eye contact, he thought angrily.
"What happened to the balcony doors?" Simon questioned, his lips pursed, as he waited for what would most likely be an obfuscation, if not a downright fabrication.
"I had a little trouble with the coffee table. I'll call about getting them fixed, okay? Now if there's nothing else, I really need to get to bed. I've got to be at the University early tomorrow for a meeting," Blair rallied as he herded the cops toward the door.
Joel smiled at the young observer. "Hey, I've had a little bit of trouble with home furnishings myself. I hope you don't mind, but knowing how you always burn the candle at both ends, I took it upon myself to call someone to fix it. They'll be here tomorrow morning. I can meet them if you can't, cause it's my day off," Joel finished, hoping the kid didn't feel as though he were overstepping his boundaries..
Simon paused as he remembered all the empty alcohol bottles on the balcony. "You sure the alcohol's such a good idea, son? Aren't you still on medication?"
Blair shook his head negatively. "Nah, they made me feel like shit so I stopped taking them. I go back to teaching tomorrow and it wouldn't do for the teacher to be all doped up," Blair finished in a tone that just dared Simon to disagree with him, his eyes blazing.
"Oh, yeah, a hangover is so much more appropriate," Simon muttered, then sighed. "Well, kid, you just be careful. We should probably get going," he said with a nod to Joel. "We just wanted to be sure that you were okay," Simon assured the younger man. Turning he added, "Blair, I know that things look bad now, but trust me, the bottle isn't the answer. It'll only cause more problems. I know from experience. I've lost too many good men to booze."
"I'm fine, Simon. You and the guys don't need to worry about me," Blair whispered, looking up at the Captain. "You know I'm not a drinker, Simon. I'll be fine. Catch ya later," he said with a little wave. "Do you mind locking the door on your way out? My back is still hurting a bit," Blair reassured his Captain as he watched the older men leave and lock the door.
Blair drank down the last of his coffee and grabbing another cup of the hot steaming liquid, headed out onto the balcony to think about how things had gotten so screwed up.
Jim glanced at the dancing red numbers. "3AM," he mumbled, irritated. "Why the hell can't I sleep?" Jim threw the itchy covers from the hotel bed and angrily swiped at the clock, knocking it and the 'Huntley, Montana' phonebook from the nightstand. You know why you can't sleep, idiot. Because you can't hear it, hear him and you don't want the nightmares anymore. Jim paced the small hotel room before throwing on some clothes and heading out into the night.
He stalked down the streets of the small town, not really knowing where he was. He'd been driving for three days straight, only stopping for food and rest, his mind churning over the events that had led to his choice to leave Blair, his best friend, his Guide. The guilt gnawed at his insides. All the pain the young man had suffered on his behalf turned over and over in his brain.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the car coming down the street as he began crossing. The driver swerved to miss him, skidding to a stop about half a block away. Jim flinched as his hearing picked up the sound of footsteps clicking their way toward him.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked breathlessly.
Jim looked through her and nodded slightly just beginning to process what had just happened.
"Are you sure? You seem to be disoriented," she replied worriedly.
Finding his voice, he sighed, "I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't see you coming. Guess I wasn't expecting anyone else on the streets this late at night."
"I'm a doctor over at St. Vincent's Hospital in Billings. My shift ended at three and I was on my way home when I nearly mowed you down. I am so sorry about that," she apologized.
"Don't worry about it. I wasn't paying attention. It was my fault, really," Jim reassured her. He smiled. She was beautiful. Long red hair framed a petite face with angelic green eyes. "I'm Jim," he introduced.
"Catherine Crowley, but my friends call me C.C.," she offered graciously. "I don't recognize you. Are you new in town?"
"Yeah, I was just passing through," he replied sheepishly.
"Really, where are you headed?" C.C. asked curiously.
"Nowhere, just driving. Well, I better get going. It's late," Jim finished, turning to leave.
"Why don't I give you a ride?"
"That's okay. The fresh air is kinda nice, but thanks anyway." Jim walked down the street, slowly dropping back into his sullen thoughts.
Blair jerked awake, bathed in sweat as he bolted upright in the bed.
"Jim!" he screamed, reaching out with his right hand from the bed.
"Shit," he cursed remembering as he scrubbed his worn bearded face with his hands. The nightmares had continued with a vengeance and he couldn't close his mind from them. Getting up from the bed, he stumbled to the kitchen to make some tea.
He placed the kettle on the burner, turned on the heat and then made his way up the stairs toward Jim's room. Sitting in the center of the room on the floor, he looked around taking in the room as Jim left it. He had been unable to bring himself to come up here, except for one crazy moment of desperate hope. One evening he'd been working late at the University, and upon returning home, he thought he heard someone upstairs. His heart leapt into his throat as he raced up the steps, hoping it was his Sentinel had returned to him, but the room was empty. His heart fallen as he finally accepted that his Sentinel was not coming home.
Two weeks later...
Simon's head jerked up, "I'm sorry, Sandburg. I don't think I heard you right. Say again?"
"If you could just ask one of the other detectives if they'd mind having a ride along, sir. I'd like to get back to work on my dissertation," Blair all but begged, his eyes burning through Simon's resistance.
"No offense, Sandburg, but I thought the subject for your diss walked about two weeks ago," Simon snapped bluntly, instantly regretting the words when Blair flinched and looked at the floor.
Blair raised his eyes to meet Simon's gaze. "Yes sir, but I've changed the central thesis of my diss to the interpersonal relationships that exist within a closed society. I'm behind on the topic and could really use the extra hours of observation, sir," Blair finished, his blue eyes never wavering from Simon's brown ones.
"If you're sure," Simon hedged as he took in the young anthropologist's haggard appearance. Finally, Simon nodded affirmatively, persuaded by Blair's intense expression. "Okay, I'll talk to Rafe and Brown and see if they mind. Will there be anything else?" Simon asked thoughtfully.
"Is there any additional paperwork that I need to fill out with this change in my observation subject?" Blair inquired.
"Sandburg, are you okay? You're being very clinical about this," Simon interjected.
"What do you want me to do, Captain? Fall apart? Sorry, but I already did that and I can't do it anymore," Blair cried out, instantly regretting the admission. "Jim's gone, Simon," he paused, choking slightly on the words. "He's really gone and I'm not gonna hold my breath waiting to hear from him, okay? I have got to get my shit together and finish school and just move on with my life," Blair snapped, his anger intense, but beginning to mellow. "I'm sorry to be so disrespectful, Simon, but I can't talk about it anymore, okay? Please," Blair blurted, his blue eyes begging, as he paced furiously in front of Simon's desk. "I better get to class. If everything's okay with the observation, let me know and I'll be in around two. Thanks for everything, Simon," Blair finished, reaching his hand out to shake the stoic Captain's hand.
Blair hauled his backpack onto his shoulder and left as quickly and quietly as possible. He started shaking as the elevator doors closed him off from the rest of the world. I can do this! I can do this! he repeated silently as he made his way to the beat up Volvo. The drive to the University passed in a blur and once he reached his office, he collapsed into his chair, trying to get his thoughts in order for his morning lecture.
A knock at the door brought him back to reality. Blair ran his fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ear, and took a deep calming breath to soothe his raging thoughts.
"Come in," Blair called softly, looking up to see who graced his office. "Dr. Stoddard, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow."
"I know Blair, but this is very important and I needed to talk to you right away," Dr. Stoddard began as he closed the door and took a seat. "Blair, I've noticed over the past couple of weeks that you've been a bit distracted. Want to talk about it?"
Blair looked away, took a deep breath and forged ahead. "That's why I was coming to see you, Eli. I'm a little behind on my diss and..."
Eli's jaw dropped in surprise as he interrupted. "Blair, last I heard you were well ahead on your dissertation. What happened?"
Blair inhaled deeply and began, "Jim left," he looked up, registering Eli's surprise at the admission. "I need to change to my secondary topic. I'm sorry, Eli. I know you've always been there for me," he choked out, closing his eyes, thinking about another person who said he'd always be there. "I'm working on the closed society diss now and I am a little behind. Really Eli, I know that you've bent over backwards for me already, but I really need to do this." Blair exhaled, hoping to get the extension.
"Blair, I know you," Eli replied, meeting the young grad student's haunted blue eyes. "You've lost your good friend. I know you're not eating and heavens knows how much you've been sleeping," Eli accused, his wise eyes filled with understanding. "Maybe it's time to get away for a bit," Eli suggested warmly.
"I can't Eli," Blair charged. "I've got too much to do and I'm behind..."
"The other reason I came down here was to let you know that I'm taking a group of students to an excavation at Yellowstone and was hoping you'd lend your expertise and assistance," Eli enticed his young protege, knowing Blair's love of fieldwork.
"When?" Blair inquired, meeting his mentor's gaze.
Eli smiled, knowing he had hooked the younger man. "We leave in ten days. Think you're up to it? I think it would be good for you to get away. It would give you time to organize your notes as you'll have the nights free," Eli said, eyeing Blair. "The base site is set up at the Flathead Indian Reservation. We'll be there for about two weeks. What do you say?" Eli all but begged his prize student.
"Let me okay it with Captain Banks, but I don't see it being a problem. I'll call you this evening with my answer. Will that be enough notice?" Blair asked tentatively.
"Perfect, dear boy. I don't turn in my roster until Friday," Eli finished as he arose from the chair and headed for the door.
Blair sighed and returned to his grading as the phone rang.
"Sandburg," he answered.
"Blair, it's Simon. Rafe and Brown said that they're looking forward to having you break up the monotony of tonight's stakeout. They want to meet you at the loft at 6 PM."
"That should be fine, sir. Uh, Captain, I know I'm already pushing my luck with the reassignment for which I am eternally grateful, but I need to take two weeks off a couple weeks from now. I've got a dig in Yellowstone and really need to go, sir," Blair pled openly.
"That shouldn't be a problem, Sandburg. Just write up a letter of absence with the dates you need and put in my box. I'll sign off on it," Simon replied warmly.
"Thanks, Simon."
Blair hung up the phone with the hint of a smile playing at his lips. I'm going to be okay. I just needed some time to adapt. I am Blair Sandburg, world traveler extraordinaire. Adaptation should be a piece of cake, he told himself as his smile faded. So why are you having so much trouble this time?
Blair rushed through the door and gathered the appropriate notebooks before tearing back down the stairs and out the front door to meet Rafe and Brown.
"Sorry, I'm late, guys," he breathed as he hopped into the back of Brown's beat-up, four door Chrysler.
"Relax, Blair. You're like five minutes late. Don't worry about it," Rafe teased gently.
"How ya been, Hairboy?" Brown piped up from the driver's seat.
"Fine, thanks. So what's the stakeout for tonight," he asked, grabbing his pen and notebook.
"Nothing exciting. There have been several attacks in the past three weeks at Bayside Park. We've been watching, but we can't seem to get anything, so we had to up the surveillance."
"Were the victims killed?" Blair asked curiously.
"No, the guy attacks these women, beats on them, takes their money and jewelry and then cuts off all their hair leaving them in the park. There's no signs of rape and one of the victims remembered some kind of tattoo on his left hand. Other than that we've got nothing," Rafe explained.
"If you have the file here, mind if I take a look at it?"
"Not at all." Rafe shrugged as he handed the envelope back to Blair.
"Thanks," Blair replied as he leafed through the document.
They brought the perp in two nights later.
"You should have seen him, Captain. He's amazing. We've been looking for a pattern for three weeks. He looks over the file on stakeout and finds some crazy ritual we've never even heard of," Brown raved, looking at the anthropologist with pride.
Blair blushed, ducking his head, as Rafe continued.
Rafe smiled warmly, interjecting, "He said it was the removal of their hair and the spilling of blood without death that turned him onto it," Rafe paused. "Then, he pulled out this huge book of ancient tribal rituals and I know it sounds crazy, but he was right. The guy attacked right when Blair said he would," Rafe babbled excitedly, the smile never leaving his face.
Captain Banks smiled at his Detective's enthusiasm and acceptance of Sandburg's help. He should have known his men were too good to let the fact that Ellison's wasn't around cloud their judgment of the young anthropologist. "Good work, Detectives. Great profiling, Sandburg. Now don't you guys have some work to do? I'm sure there's a crime that needs to be solved somewhere," Simon grumbled with a smile on his face.
The men hustled from the office to get back to work.
Time dragged for Blair as he anxiously awaited the expedition. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the big day arrived. Blair met everyone at the airport and off they went. It took several hours, but they managed to reach the site at the Flathead Indian Reservation by sundown.
Blair looked at the site, eyes twinkling, his whole face lit up with excitement and wonder. God, it's beautiful here, he thought warmly, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm. Looking around at the surrounding tents on the old tribal land, Blair felt a sense of awe at the agelessness of the site.
"This is going to be great. Thanks for inviting me, Eli," Blair's grateful tone permeated the air.
"You're welcome, now get some sleep. We start early tomorrow morning and I want you to be well rested," Eli scolded playfully.
"See you in the morning, Eli." Blair smiled and headed into his tent for the night.
C.C. tucked her arm under her pillow and lying on her side, watched Jim sleep, thinking about their time together. Her husband had died almost three years ago and Jim was the only interesting man she'd met in a long time. She sighed, Of course, I spend all my time at the hospital, she thought, smiling to herself trying not to wake Jim. When she nearly ran him down, he seemed so lost that she had decided to call him the next day. It was her day off and she thought it might be nice to have some company. She called Jim and boldly invited him to dine with her at Don's Steak House. She was stunned when he accepted. They'd spent nearly everyday together since. He's such a remarkable man, she thought as she slid her hand over his chest. Troubled, but remarkable, she amended.
"No!" Jim shrieked as he shot up in the bed, startling C.C. who was snuggled next to him.
"Jim? What is it? Are you okay?" she whispered anxiously, once again placing a settling hand on his bare chest.
Jim nodded and got up from the bed. Running his hands over his hair, he sighed deeply and began pacing the small room.
"Jim?" C.C. started, knowing that she was asking for trouble. "The nightmares haven't been letting up. You've got to talk to someone about this," she suggested softly. "I know that's the last thing you want to hear, but I know a guy that I think can help. He deals with a lot of P.T.S.S.," she paused, gauging his response.
"Not now," he growled, as his senses began to overload. He stumbled to the small bathroom and grabbed the herbal shampoo he'd been using to try to help him control his senses. Inhaling the scent deeply, he began to see the dials and turned them all down until they were all set at two.
He sighed, looking in the mirror at his haggard features. He looked old. Older than he had in his entire life. Turning from his disturbing reflection, he made his way back to the bed.
"Are you okay, Jim?" he heard her soft question.
"Yeah, thanks. Sorry about waking you up," Jim offered, hoping she would just drop it.
"What are you thinking about, Jim?" C.C. asked quietly as she watched his chiseled features and his jaw grinding his teeth to dust.
Jim shook his head. "Can't we just drop it?" he asked with a smile.
"Jim, you have these nightmares every single night. Why don't you like to talk about what's going on in that head of yours?" C.C. asked, using her most wounded, but playful tone.
Jim sighed heavily, his eyes misting over a bit. Finally, giving in to her questions, he began. "I'm a cop in Cascade, Washington," He paused, unsure where to go next. Oh well, the direct approach was often best. He sighed, unable to meet her green eyes. "About a month ago, my partner and I were kidnapped," his broken voice began shakily. "They forced me to watch and choose the methods by which they tortured him," he explained meeting her eyes. "I wouldn't choose at first, but Drey threatened to make the choice the most lethal," he looked away, casting pain filled eyes about the room. "I couldn't let that bastard kill him, so I made the choice based on Blair's birthday," Jim stopped, willing himself to breathe.
C.C. looked at him, tears building in her bright green eyes. She placed her hand gently on his arm giving him the strength to continue.
"The drug I chose," he choked "caused Blair to lose his sight and hearing. He was starting to lose muscle control and I knew he wouldn't be able to take much more," he gasped out, swiping at the tears falling from his steel blue eyes. "Drey taunted me with the antidote, asking me what I would do for it."
Jim lifted his eyes to meet C.C.'s and shuddered with the admission. "I would have done anything for that antidote," he admitted to her, his eyes cold.
"I know," she whispered knowingly, holding his hand.
"You don't know," he exploded, pulling his hand from hers. "I was covert ops. You have no idea what I'm capable of, what I've done, And I would have done all of it again to save him. I would have killed to save him," he yelled, choking on the words.
As Jim looked into her wide green eyes, he could see that he had stunned her by his words.
Taking a deep breath, C.C. replied. "Jim, they tortured your partner, your best friend. I can't even begin to imagine being in that situation, but you're a good man. I know that in my heart. You just need to believe it in your own heart," she whispered supportively, reaching for his hand once more.
"I almost killed him," Jim whispered beneath his breath.
"Drey?" she clarified.
"No, Blair," he admitted, his eyes filled with sadness. "Drey came into the darkened cell and I attacked him for the antidote. I injected Blair with it before I even knew what it was," Jim explained painfully.
"What was in the syringe?" she led carefully.
Jim turned away, grasping her hand more tightly. "I'm not sure, but it put him in a coma."
She nodded and squeezed his hand again, waiting for him to continue.
"The police arrived and Blair was slipping away. I don't remember a lot after that. I remember the ambulance ride. We were so close to each other, but I couldn't touch him," his voice shook with anguish.
"You did everything you could, Jim," she reassured him.
"I couldn't take the pain that I caused him. The guilt was eating me alive, so I gave him the loft and the money in my wallet and walked away from him and everything else. I got in my truck and started driving and before I knew it, I was here," Jim finished softly.
"Oh my gosh, Jim! That's horrible! Is your partner okay?" she asked knowing that cops took their partners very seriously, even more so than a spouse at times.
Jim looked away guiltily. "I don't know."
C.C. looked at Jim with saddened eyes. Handing Jim her cell phone, "Give him a call, Jim. I think that's the only way you can get any peace is to call him. You need to know that he's okay."
"I don't deserve any peace," he snapped, releasing her fingers from his and turning away.
C.C. crossed the room and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You've punished yourself long enough, Jim. You are a good man and you deserve to know," she reassured him, rubbing her hands comfortingly on his chest. "I'll leave you to it," she said, smiling as she squeezed him in a hug, kissed his back and walked away.
Jim paused looking down at the phone in his shaking hands, then dialed the number that meant home.
He sighed when the answering machine picked up the call. Then hanging up the phone, he called the only other person he could think of... Simon Banks.
"Banks," the voice rumbled curtly.
"Yeah, Simon... It's me," Jim spoke softly barely able to contain the emotion in his voice.
"Jim? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" Simon fired off the questions in rapid succession.
"Whoa, Simon. Slow down. I'm in Montana and I'm fine. I was calling to make sure that Blair was okay," Jim prodded his friend for information.
"Blair's fine. He took a little time to process and get it back together, but he's fine. Is there a number where I can reach you?" Simon inquired.
"I'm glad he's doing well. I've been worried about him. I'm staying with a friend I met out here, her number is 406-555-2136."
"Well, maybe if you had called sooner, you wouldn't have had to worry as long," Simon chided.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I just needed some time to sort things out in my head. You don't know what happened out there, Simon," Jim snapped dejectedly.
"Actually, we do know what happened. Detective Carre filed a full report as to the happenings in that warehouse from the time you were brought there until your release. We know about the drug that Ben Pratchett forced you to choose for Blair and we know about the failed antidote. There's no reason to keep running, Jim. You need your Guide and he needs you. So get your ass back here, Detective!" Simon's voice boomed over the line.
"You've just said that Blair's been fine without me. He'll continue to be fine. It's safer for him to be on his own than to be around me. I just need a little more time. I would like to talk to him though. I tried to reach him at the loft, but..." Jim's voice faded.
"He's out of town on some anthropology dig. He needed the break after the way he's been working," Simon spoke shaking his head. "That kid's got more energy than the damn Energizer Bunny!"
"What do you mean 'the way he's been working?' Things should have lightened up for him after I left, without the station to worry about," Jim said tersely.
"No, Jim. He took a week off to get his shit together and then started back to classes, teaching and attending. Then he worked the night shift with Rafe and Brown."
"Why would he come back to the station? He's my partner!" Jim spat angrily.
"Well Jim. I suppose it's because you walked out on him without a word and the kid couldn't put his entire life on hold until you got back. He's been working on the 'thin blue line' dissertation which required increased observation hours. Kid's done pretty well, too. Helped solve a couple of cases that were bugging the shit of the team," Simon explained in great detail.
"Doesn't sound like the kid needs me at all," Jim whispered sadly.
"Jim, don't be such an ass! Sandburg's been moping around here for damn near a month until he left for the dig. You two need each other to keep me sane! He'll be back next Sunday, so I suggest you finish your little pity party and have your ass back here by then! Do I make myself clear, Detective?" Simon finished angrily.
"Crystal. And sir... thanks," Jim sighed as he disconnected the line.
Blair sighed contentedly as he sifted through the ancient relics and began to catalog them. They had been on the site for twelve days and he was finishing up some of the cataloguing that had been put off. Eli was right. The trip had been somewhat healing for him. He was sleeping better, at least a bit and was making tremendous headway on his dissertation. The nightmares had dropped to a minimum as his heart was beginning to accept the loss of his Sentinel. It still hurt, but the pain was no longer paralyzing.
"Blair!" a young woman cried out, crashing into the storage tent, breaking him away from his thoughts.
"Calm down, Marilyn," Blair began, using his best Guide voice. "What happened?"
"Jenny was working at the southeast site and fell into a ravine! We can't get her out!" Marilyn gasped, crying.
"It's okay. It happens sometimes. Now calm down and go get Dr. Stoddard, okay?" Blair ordered gently.
Marilyn turned and raced from the tent as Blair grabbed his gear and made for the southeastern site. Arriving at the site, he could see the other students surrounding the opening.
"What happened?" Blair asked calmly, looking down into the opening.
"I don't know. She walked across the ground and all of a sudden she wasn't there. Must have been eroded. It looks like she's in some kind of underground cave system," Tony informed him.
"Okay, Jenny?" Blair called out firmly, looking down into the narrow rift. "Are you okay?"
"Uh huh, but I think my leg is broken," Jenny cried out, her voice trembling.
"Just hold on and we'll get you out. Don't be afraid, okay?" Blair soothed, as he pulled the rope from his gear. Turning to Tony he continued. "Tony, go to the communications tent and use the radio to contact Yellowstone Search and Rescue. Tell them they need to get here as quickly as possible. Now go!" Blair ordered.
Blair immediately formed the rope into a harness as Jim had showed him on their last hiking trip. "Man, I hate heights," he complained soberly, his blue eyes wide with fear. He tied the rope off onto a large tree and started toward the rift. "I'll have to go down and get her. She won't be able to climb with that leg. Okay, hand me my pack. Let's get this done."
"Jenny, Blair's coming down to get you," Katie hollered down to her friend.
"'kay," came the frightened reply.
Blair lowered himself gingerly over the edge of the rift. Man, this sucks, he thought dejectedly. "I'm coming Jenny, don't worry." He made it down in record time, never once looking down, except at touch down to make sure he didn't land on top of the injured student.
Blair pulled the first aid kit out of his pack and splinted the leg quickly and efficiently.
"Just be glad my roommate used to be a medic or I wouldn't have known how to do this," Blair reassured her, sighing at the thought of Jim.
He slipped the harness over her slight frame and gave the rope a good tug to ensure its sturdiness.
"Search and Rescue said they could be here in a few hours, Dr. Stoddard. They're out on another call in the opposite direction," Tony informed his mentor.
"Well, then let's get them up here and be ready to go," Eli commanded gently.
They pulled Jenny up while Blair held her steady for as long as he could reach her. "You'll be fine, Jenny," he said with a gigantic smile that made her smile warmly.
"Thank you for coming down to get me," she whispered as she was pulled up from the rift.
"Okay, Blair. It's your turn to come back up. Here's the rope," Eli yelled as the makeshift harness dropped next to his feet. He put the harness on and started his ascent, helping them with the climbing as much as he could.
So intent upon pulling Blair to safety, no one had noticed that the sharp rocky edge of the rift had frayed the rope and the dirt at its edge was tumbling down into the narrow opening, decreasing the ground's stability at the site of the opening.
About two-thirds up the rocky face, Blair gasped as he heard the loud crack of the last strand of rope break and it went slack in his hands. He was falling.
"Oh, God," Blair gasped as he crashed into the rocky walls of the rift and finally smashed into the floor, unconscious, dirt and rock raining on his still form from above.
"Blair!" Eli and the kids yelled as they watched him fall, helpless expressions growing vacant with fear.
"He hit the wall pretty hard, Dr. Stoddard," Tony whispered.
"We have to go down and help him!" Jenny cried.
"No," Eli ordered. "Search and Rescue is on the way and we can't risk anybody else being hurt."
Eli Stoddard looked at his fallen prodigy with sadness in his eyes. He hoped that help would be here very soon, but until then they could only watch and hope for the best.
Search and Rescue finally arrived at the site. "Where are they?" Derek Coates demanded as he unloaded his gear.
"Thank goodness you're here," Dr. Stoddard exclaimed gratefully, leading them to the cavern where Blair was now conscious.
"Sorry it took so long for us to get to you," Derek said as he glanced down into the rift to ascertain the situation. "Jeff, we're gonna need Paul and a backboard with neck collar. I'll head down and start getting him ready to go," he finished, watching Jeff take off for the chopper. "How long's he been down there, sir?"
"A couple hours," Dr. Stoddard answered, his expression faded with worry.
"Okay, I'm going down," Derek said. With a final check of his safety equipment, he quickly repelled down to the injured anthropologist and began to assess his patient.
"Is he okay?" Dr. Stoddard yelled down into the rift.
"He's alive, but I need you all to let me work, please," Derek asked politely.
"Can you tell me your name?" Derek began, turning his attention once more to his patient.
"Blair... Sand... burg," Blair managed between clenched teeth.
"How are you doing? Can you tell me where it hurts?"
"Okay, but it kinda hurts everywhere at this point. Although, I have a hell of a headache," he reported, closing his eyes and pressing his palms into them.
Derek busied himself taking vitals and checking over the battered anthropologist until the backboard and collar arrived.
"Okay, Blair. We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still and let us do all the work, okay?"
"'Kay," Blair whispered, his face a mask of pain.
It took about twenty minutes to get him to the transport, and then the three men lifted the patient into the chopper and took off toward the hospital.
Jim and C.C. ate their lunch quietly at the local diner. After the nightmares he'd been having, C.C. was worried and watched his every move.
"What?" Jim asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.
"How's your partner?" she asked solemnly.
"He's okay. Look C.C., I really appreciate all that you've done for me. I don't know where to begin to thank you..." Jim began self-consciously.
"But?" C.C. replied. "You're leaving, aren't you?" She asked without accusation.
"Yes, it's time for me to go home and get back to the life I've been avoiding," Jim answered taking her hands in his own, worry working at his gut.
"Don't worry about me, cowboy. I knew from the moment I found out where you were from that you wouldn't be staying. I do hope that you will stay in touch, though," she whispered, her eyes bright with tears.
"I plan to. Well we better get back to the house," Jim said anxiously. "I want to leave in the next few days. I need to be home by Sunday night. That's when Blair is getting back and we really need to talk," Jim finished, paying the check and offering his arm to her.
Upon returning home, C.C. checked her voice mail. "Jim, someone named Simon Banks called. He said it was urgent," C.C. called out to the front room.
Jim picked up the phone and dialed the department.
"Banks!"
"Simon, it's Jim. What's up?"
"There was an accident at the dig that Blair was working on, that involved Blair and another student... Search and Rescue picked them up," Simon informed his anxious detective.
"When? Where?" Jim asked, his insides cold.
"It happened the day before yesterday. The University called a couple of hours ago and I called you right after. He was taken to St. Patrick's Hospital in Missoula, Montana. Jim... I'm sorry," Simon said.
"Thanks Simon. I'll call you when I get in. Have Cascade General fax Blair's medical records to the hospital just in case they need them," Jim said as he hung up.
"C.C., I have to go now. I'm sorry, but Blair was hurt in an accident and they've taken him to St. Patrick's in Missoula. I have to get there," Jim finished as he threw the last of his gear into his bag and started through the front door.
"I've got a friend that works the ER at St. Patrick's. I'll give her a call and let her know you're coming. It's an excellent hospital, Jim. Your partner will be fine," she reassured him as she stood on her tip-toes and brushed his lips lightly with a kiss. "Goodbye, Jim."
"Goodbye, Catherine, and thanks for everything," Jim whispered, as he kissed her softly on the lips, running his fingers through her long red hair and then grabbed his bag, and raced for the truck.
Within minutes, he was racing down the highway at break-neck speeds, lights flashing to get to his partner as quickly as possible.
Jim pushed the old truck to the limit, stopping only once for gas. He screeched to a stop in a parking place in visitor's parking (about 4 hours later with an average speed of 90 mph).
He jumped from the truck and sprinted up to the Hospital's Reception Desk. "Excuse, me I need to find out about Blair Sandburg, please," he commanded tersely, his blue eyes flashing.
"He's in Room 434. Just take the elevator up to the fourth floor and go left. The nurse's station can direct you from there if you need assistance," the receptionist said with a smile.
Jim took the elevator up and stalked to the desk in anticipation. "Excuse me. Can you tell me what Blair Sandburg's condition is, please?"
The nurse smiled warmly. "The doctor's in with him now. If you'll please wait outside the door, she'll be with you shortly."
Jim paced the floor and catching a glimpse of the payphones called Simon to tell him he had arrived safely and would keep him posted. Then he played the waiting game.
After a few minutes, Jim was startled by a doctor coming through the door. "Are you Jim Ellison?"
"Yes," he answered, confused about how she knew his name. He hadn't given it to the attendants.
"I'm Dr. Amanda Benson. C.C. called to let me know that you were coming," she began with a smile. "Mr. Sandburg took quite a beating in the fall, but overall he was very lucky. He cracked two ribs on his left side. He also has numerous lacerations, abrasions and contusions along the length of his body. He also managed to bang his head in the fall and therefore has a mild concussion," Dr. Benson finished with a shake of her head.
"Can I see him?" Jim asked anxiously.
"Yeah, go on in," she replied.
Jim paused as he approached the door. How could he go in there knowing that he was responsible for his Guide's condition... if he'd never taken off, Blair would be home safe instead of in a hospital miles from home. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.
Blair was lying still as stone on the bed just a few short feet away. Seeing him there brought back just how much he had missed his Guide. He staggered under the assault of his Guide on his senses. The room was permeated with Blair's scent. Even with his Guide asleep, Jim could sense fear and pain bound together with oppressive sadness. He lowered his eyes and approached the bed slowly.
"Hey Chief," Jim murmured quietly as he crossed the room to the bed and took the small pale hand in his. "You have to wake up now, Chief. Come back to me, please," Jim begged.
Blair's eyes fluttered as he struggled to wake up.
Jim noticed his partner's increased heart rate. "That's it, Blair. Come back to me."
"Jim?" Blair questioned in the dim light, still fighting with his heavy eyelids.
"Yeah, it's me, Chief. I'm sorry that I didn't reach you sooner," Jim apologized somewhat pathetically.
Blair turned toward the window, tears stinging his eyes. "I didn't expect to see you here," he whispered, Sentinel soft.
"I walked out on you, because I thought I could protect you better if I wasn't around to put you in danger in the first place. I made choices back at the warehouse that could have killed you," Jim vented, staggered by the pain he read in his partner's face.
"Jim! You saved my life. If you had let Pratchett choose, I would have been dead. By making probably one of the most difficult decisions of your life, you saved mine," Blair finished, reaching out a hand to his Sentinel. "You have to stop pushing me away for my own good. It never works!"
Jim brought his eyes from the floor to meet the steady gaze of his Guide.
"I promise that I will try," Jim responded sincerely.
"I need you to do more than try, Jim. I'm telling you that I can't go though this again," Blair sighed, his eyes closing. "You left me. I wasn't even out of the hospital yet and you just walked away. How could you do that?" Blair accused, lines of anger traced on his face.
"I don't know, Blair," Jim whispered in reply. "I couldn't stand that I had hurt you. I couldn't stand that because of me you lost your sight, your hearing, almost your life," Jim hissed defensively. "It was my fault. Don't you get that?"
"It wasn't your fault! You didn't kidnap me, beat me and drug me. You had no choice! You have to believe that, even if you can't believe anything else. You know that you can't always protect me and I don't expect you to," Blair spat, his blue eyes blazing. "I do expect you to stand by me. You are my Sentinel and I am your Guide. It is our duty to fight together!"
Jim opened his mouth to speak.
Blair cut him off with a raised hand. "I'm not finished. By leaving, you took that choice away from me. After everything we'd been through you lost your faith in me," Blair glared at him as Jim tried to deny this and was shaking his head vehemently. "Yes, you did. You lost your faith in me and yourself and our ability to get through anything. You forgot the most important thing. We can't win this fight if we don't do it together!" Blair paused for breath. "Look, my senses are fine, now. I'm fully recovered from what happened in that warehouse. So, go ahead, take all the time you need to decide what the hell you want to do, but understand this: I will not put my entire life on hold for you. I would give it up to save your life, even your soul," Blair whispered with conviction. "But I will not give it up to satisfy your guilt!"
Jim looked at the intensity in his partner's raging blue eyes and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, Chief, I get it. I'm not happy about it, but I get it. I'm sorry that I took off on you. It won't happen again."
"We still have more things to discuss, Jim. Things will have to change, but right now I'm too tired to think anymore," Blair managed, not letting his partner off the hook with a simple apology. They had a lot to work out. But, sighing deeply, unable to stave off sleep any longer, his eyes closed heavily.
"Rest, Blair. I'll be here when you wake up," Jim promised. Jim marveled at his partner's capacity for forgiveness and grateful for it, Jim settled in the chair next to his partner's bed relieved that he would have another chance to keep this special friendship, to keep his Guide.
Blair smiled gently as he returned to a more restful sleep than he had known since the loss of his Sentinel. Jim was safe and so was he, and he knew his friend would be there when he awakened.
The End