Don't own 'Sentinel' or the characters and sadly never will. Darn.
Not beta-ed. Minor warnings for some gruesome imagery.
My take on what was going through Blair's head just before and right after he'd ingested Golden.
Pie of Death
by Strut
Blair sank his teeth into the pizza slice, savoring the smell, taste and the feel of the combination of cheese, sauce and crust. He was alone in the Major Crimes office, well, not completely alone. Simon and Jim were in Simon's office. He gazed thoughtfully at the closed door and wondered why Simon hadn't invited him to join the meeting, but shrugged. Jim would fill him in later if there were anything that Blair needed to know. He hoped no one would begrudge him this one slice. Heck, he paid for it, giving the poor pizza guy a buck tip. He felt rather bad about that, since he knew first-hand about working for tips. But the dollar Jim had given him last night was all the money he had on him.
He plunked himself down into Jim's chair and put his feet up. He hadn't had pizza in a while. Normally he was snipping at Jim about eating the stuff. Heck, he'd even called it the Pie of Death a couple of time. But damn, this was good.
Why is it always the good tasting stuff that was so very bad for you? Blair mused as he bit off more and chewed thoroughly, mulling over the concept. Perhaps just the notion that it was so unhealthy that made it all the better tasting. Thing was that, as long as one didn't eat it all the time and controlled the portions, it was actually not the worst thing in the world for you. He smiled to himself, not that he'd ever let Jim hear him say that.
The crunch of the crust was quite satisfying. It was done to perfection, just the right combination of chewy yet crunchy. He licked his fingers when he was done and his eyes landed on the stack of boxes. No, one slice was enough.
He wiped his pizza greasy hands on his pant leg and turned his attention to Jim's Golden induced sight problem. According to the ophthalmologist, Jim wasn't technically blind. He could see light –golden light and a lot of blurred images. The way Blair figured it Jim's visual circuits were temporarily fried from the drug and were getting overloaded with too much information.
How could he help Jim bring his sight back? He had made some pithy remarks to Jim about willing himself to get his sight back. That Jim had to want it –as if somehow he didn't desperately want his vision back. What a huge pile of crap. Where do I come up with some of the things I say? Geez, of course Jim wants to see again. It wasn't like Jim had witnessed something so horrible it made him blind. The problem was drug induced and should have gone away when the Golden cleared his system.
Only it had not .
Blair was leaning towards the idea that Jim's visual circuits were temporarily fried from the drug and were overloaded. Hopefully the damage was temporary and would correct itself. There was no way he could try to explain to the doctor that Jim was a sentinel and had weird reactions to drugs and medicines. Blair grimaced at the thought that he may have to figure out a way to do that, if he ran out of ideas. He had been very willing to have Jim go through the battery of tests that the ophthalmologist had mentioned, but Jim had nixed that idea because that would take him off the case and there was no way he was going to let that happen.
According to the doctor, this was a type of hysterical blindness that he had never heard of. Blair was putting a brave face on it –hell, outright denying even the possibility that the damage might be permanent. He forced himself to be positive, that this could be fixed. But a small part of him was very worried that Jim would pick up on what was essentially a white lie. Blair didn't have all the answers. Heck, he didn't even have all the questions and was very worried Jim would call him on it. Absently, he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the curls behind his ears. God, what if Jim didn't get his sight back? What if-
A flicker just beyond Blair's peripheral vision caught his attention and the thought was cut off. He looked about the room, there was nothing there. Shaking his head he returned his thoughts to how he could help Jim get his sight back. Maybe forcing it was the wrong approach. What if total resting of his eyes was the key? Perhaps he could talk Jim into wearing a blindfold when he was at home so that maybe his eyes could 'rest' after the overload of Golden. Or-
The flicker again caught his attention and an overwhelming feeling of uneasiness washed over him, causing Blair to stand up and look for the source. There it was again, a shimmer of, of –something- out the corner of his eye. Blair whipped his head around, trying to get a good look at whatever it was. His gut began telling him –loudly- whatever it was, it was dangerous. Not just to him, but to everyone. Then, right before his eyes, something started to rise out of the floor.
Growing slowly and flickering hypnotically golden, it increased in size.
Blair watched and it slowly dawned on him that it was alive. It shouldn't be. It couldn't be.
It was burnt, yet somehow –horrifyingly- alive.
Blair gaped at the burning person. Its flesh bubbled with the heat of the flames. The features melted, eyes turned to molten juice and oozed down its charcoal colored cheeks. It reached for him and globules of fat and skin tissue dripped off the reaching arms, hissing on the floor where they landed. The stench of burning flesh was overwhelming. Blair gagged and nearly puked.
The fire person moved towards him, arms extended as if to embrace him. Its face twisting in hate and in utter, unstoppable agony from the flames. "Maaaake it sssstop. It huuuuurtsss. Youuu knoooow everything. Youuuu can stooooop thissss. 'Ssss your fauuuuuult. Youuuuuu will aaaaall paaaay. Buuuuurn with meeee. Buuuurn with uuuuuusss."
Blair's eyes darted about the room and watched in growing horror as another fire person pulled itself up through the floor. A third creature joined the others, it pulling its feet out of the tiles as if it were pulling its feet out of wet concrete. Then it purposely stepped towards Simon's office.
The first fire person spoke again, its word burning and hissing like its flaming body. "Theeeeey're neeeeext." The creature turned towards Simon's office. "Theeeey muuuuust join uuuuus. Theeeey muuuuust aaaaall suffer aaaaas weee doooo. Buuuurn wiiiith uuuuus!"
Blair couldn't speak. Couldn't warn Jim and Simon of the terrible danger they were in. His heart pounded hard in his chest, threatening to burst out. Jim! Simon! No! The words were in his head and refused to come out.
The fire person reached down through the floor and pulled up another one. Soon there were several of them, filling Major Crimes offices with a terrible golden glow.
One turned its molten, burning eye sockets towards Blair and several other fire beings followed its lead. Blair's eyes darted and his head pivoted madly trying to watch all of them at once.
JIM!
The name screamed through his head but nothing came out his mouth.
As though prompted by Blair's thoughts, more fire people turned towards Simon's office.
NO! Panic shot through Blair. Jim couldn't see them, he wouldn't be able to defend himself. Simon was no match either. Nothing could end this.
Blair needed something to stop them. Something to get them away from his friends. Oh god. The building was full of people. People –humans- who would have no chance against these golden fire people. And they were still multiplying.
A notion burst upon his brain. He could stop them. He just needed something to fight them with. But what would burnt, dead –yet not dead- fire people fear?
Fire power! A gun! He knew Jim kept his spare in his desk drawer. Blair yanked it open and grabbed the gun. It felt wrong in his hand and he nearly dropped the weapon. But the fire people were melting through Simon's office door.
NO! He mentally screamed at the creatures.
The fire people turned back towards him. Success! He swung the gun around, pointing it in turn at each creature. The fire people stepped back and bolted from the room. Blair ran after them, brandishing the gun. He chased them down to the garage. There were fewer things to burn down there, just concrete and cars. No wooden furniture or office supplies and best of all, almost no humans. He could get the few there to leave and save them all.
A fire person started to rise from the floor and he shot a round at it. It quickly sunk back down.
"Blair!"
He knew that voice! "Henri! Watch out! Demons! Fire people! They're dangerous! Get everyone out! I'll hold them off. Get the people out! NOT YOU!" He shot a round at the fire person that was pulling itself out of the ground near Henri. Henri jumped and there were screams as the creature sunk back down. Blair's heart hammered wildly and for a second he clutched his chest.
At this momentary lapse of focus, the fire people advanced on him. He fired a few more rounds to back them off. There were screams and shouts as Blair did his best to back the creatures away from himself and the others. One began to rise out of the ground next to his feet and he leapt up on a squad car to get away.
The moans and cries of the living, burning dead fire people filled his ears. There were far too many of them. How could he fight them all off with just one gun and a single clip full of bullets?
The fire beings sensed his worry and flared brightly.
Blaaaaair! They hissed. Sssssstop Blaaaair! Whaaat aaaare yoooou doooing?
As an aghast Blair watched, one of the beings' flaming jaw fell to the ground and the fire person's tongue flapped uselessly as it continued to try to speak, a bubbling moan issuing from its melted throat. "You get away from me! You keep back!" He squeezed off a round and closed his eyes to the horror, clutching Jim's gun, the only thing that was keeping them at bay. He forced his eyes open, knowing that the fire people would use that distraction to get closer to him –and they had. He fired off another round, glass shattered and hit the ground.
Hoooold yooooour fiiiire! Hooooold yoooour fiiiire! One of the fire people shouted.
The fire people erupted into more shouts and the smell of gasoline permeated the garage. Blair swallowed hard, aware the stakes had just been sharply raised. They would hold their fire until the gasoline molecules had dispersed enough to permeate the entire building, then as one, would ignite it, killing everyone. Blair's heart beat wildly in his chest and his hands grew sweaty. End game now. He'd have to kill them all, somehow.
"Blaaair, it's Jim."
A familiar voice called to him and clapped.
Relief washed over Blair. "No need for applause man. I've got it all covered." He could barely suppressed the hysterical laughter that bubbled up. Jim. Jim was here and together they could fix this.
Jim smiled at him. "What's goin' on?"
"You don't see them?" Blair blinked, confused. "Their coming through the walls and the floors, man." Wait, Jim was having trouble with his sight, wasn't he? Blair wiped at his brow, only to see a flicker of one of the creatures, he spun and pointed the gun at it. The gun seemed to be getting heavier.
"Whooo are?" Jim whispered.
"The golden fire people. You don't see 'em man?" He sobbed. This couldn't be happening. He was alone. Jim was blind, he couldn't help. "They're made up of fire and they're burnt." Tears welled up. "You think they're ashes but they're alive, man. And we gotta send them back!"
A fire person popped up from behind a squad and Blair fired a round at it.
"BLAIR! Easy buddy, easy! Whoa! Blair, listen to me."
He turned to look at Jim and noticed he was glowing. Flames licked at his outline. No! Was Jim being consumed by the demon fire? He pulled the gun around and pointed it at Jim, suddenly realizing he may have to kill Jim to save him from the demonic flames and endless pain that awaited him as a fire person.
"Yoour gun isn't going to work with the fire people. They're not gonna be afraid of your fire. It's only gonna make them stronger."
Blair gulped hard. The fire people were getting to Jim, taking him over. He was turning into a fire person.
"You've got to use the bat echo trick."
He shook his head. "The what trick?" Jim wasn't making sense.
"You know, the one you taught me. Close your eyes and clap your hands." Jim clapped.
Blair stopped his foot. "NO! That is NOT gonna work!"
"Blair, come on, try it." Jim reasoned as golden flames flickered about him. "You can save the world here. C'mon."
I'm going to have to shoot Jim. Tears welled up. I have to save him before he is turned. "I just don't think that's gonna work here." How could it work? Clapping wasn't fire power.
I can't kill Jim.
"Coooome on. Give me the guuun." A gently golden glowing Jim spoke softly.
He pointed the gun at Jim. His friend. He sobbed. "I just don't think that's gonna work." He thumbed back the trigger. To save Jim, he'd have to kill him. He gritted his teeth. He could do this. He could save Jim. His shaking arm stiffened. This is for your own good Jim. But clapping brought Tinker Bell back to life. Maybe it could work. Maybe Jim was on to something.
"Truuuust me." Golden Jim whispered and gently pulled the gun away. "That's right. Now clap your hands. You've gotta clap your hands.
His fire power gone and faced with a Golden fire Jim, he clapped.
"You did it! You did it! You did it!" The golden glow faded from Jim and Simon appeared at his side. They eased Blair off the hood of the squad car. The golden fire people melted back into the walls and floor, disappearing as quickly as they had arrived.
Oh God. Clapping was the answer and he'd nearly shot Jim, to save him. "I'm sorry." He collapsed, Jim catching him as the world faded around him.
"It's okay." His friend hugged Blair close. "It's all right."
Forgiven, Blair released his hold on consciousness and the universe faded to black.
-End scene-
The dialog in the last scene is from the show and not mine. No harm is meant to anyone and no credit is to be taken by me.