Lost

by Brumeier

Set after the end of season 4. When Blair leaves after the diss disaster, only a major crisis will bring him back to Cascade. Can he help Jim and save their friendship, or is it too late?

Standard Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, sad to say. I do own all the mean things I do to them, though!

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Lost

When the dissertation hit the fan, Blair Sandburg was angry. Angrier than he'd ever felt in his life, and it didn't sit comfortably on him. He directed it at his mother, at Chancellor Edwards, at almost everyone but Jim. He wasn't angry with Jim, just incredibly disappointed. After four years, he still didn't have the man's trust. And if he was being completely honest, Blair was mostly angry with himself; for not being more careful with the diss, for having put Jim's name in it when he'd promised not to, for having put the spotlight on a man who preferred to stay behind the scenes.

He'd sacrificed himself, gave up everything he was in the name of friendship. But it wasn't enough. He did what he could to protect the Sentinel of the City and the only thanks he got was a badge and an offer to join the Police Academy. It was a clumsy and foolish gesture; anyone who knew him knew he could never be a cop. It was one thing to consult on cases, and have Jim's back. It was another thing entirely to strap on a gun and the responsibility that came with it.

So he left. Left the loft, left the PD, left Cascade. He wanted to make a clean break of things. He left without telling anyone; especially Jim. He just couldn't face his friend, couldn't bear to see that hurt look in his eyes anymore. And so he'd waited till Jim was out before hastily shoving a few things in his backpack and leaving an apologetic note. It was a very Naomi thing to do, which filled him with shame, but he didn't have the courage to face him.

Blair left behind his cell phone with the rest of his things. Not because he thought Jim would try and contact him – he was pretty sure the big guy would be happily rid of him at this point – but because he didn't want to talk to his mother. She'd become the focal point for his anger. She was the one who'd ruined everything he'd built in Cascade; at least it seemed that way from within the haze of anguish that surrounded him.

He was grateful that Jim had his senses under control now. It had been clear for a while that the Sentinel no longer needed his Guide. Blair wouldn't have left otherwise, no matter how much he was hurting. He'd helped make Jim self-sufficient, and it was a good thing, even if it had made him feel like a completely unnecessary accessory. In the end it worked out. Jim could carry on without him and he could start over somewhere new and put the past behind him.

*o*o*o*

"Hey, Mr. S!" A tall, blonde teenage boy waved from the basketball court. Blair waved back with a grin. Luckily it was just a practice and not a real game, because one of Tommy's teammates snatched the ball from his hand and took it down the court.

He'd been working hard with Tommy down at the Teen Center, trying to help him achieve his dream of joining the school basketball team. The kid was a little slow, but he had a big heart and was eager to please. Blair helped him after school every day, running drills, practicing shots. Now here he was at his first practice and Blair couldn't help feeling like a proud papa.

"He's not bad," Coach Dearly remarked, his eyes never leaving the action on the court. "Needs a bit more focus."

"I appreciate you giving him this chance, man. It means a lot to him."

"You've done good work. Maybe I should hire you as an assistant coach."

Both men laughed, knowing Blair didn't have any extra time in his schedule for something like that. What with his volunteer work down at the Teen Center and the soup kitchen, his job at CompuTech, and the tutoring he did, his schedule was full. But for kids like Tommy he made time.

He stayed for the whole practice, silently cheering Tommy on so as not to distract him. Afterwards, the kid came running over and wrapped him in a sweaty hug.

"Thanks so much, Mr. S! Did you see how good I did?"

"I sure did," Blair said, carefully extricating himself. "Coach Dearly was impressed. He thinks you'll make a good addition to the team."

"I'm gonna get a jersey and everything!" Tommy was flushed with pleasure, and Blair couldn't help but share his grin.

"Just remember what I taught you. What are the three most important things?"

Tommy ticked them off on his fingers. "Have fun. Teamwork. Listen to the coach."

"That's right."

"You gonna be at the Center this weekend?"

Blair nodded. "Saturday until noon. Then I have to work."

Tommy gave him another big hug. "See you there!"

Blair watched him run off to join his new teammates in the locker room, and sent up a prayer to whoever might be listening that the other boys treated him kindly. He headed back out to his car, shading his eyes against the bright sunlight.

He'd been living in Flagstaff for almost ten months, and he was still pleasantly surprised by the unending stretches of warm, sunny days. Gone were the layers of flannel, except in the winter. He could've chosen to live further south and west, but all those years of living in Cascade had made him long for the mountains.

Shaking off the feeling of nostalgia that always came from thoughts of Cascade – he tried not to think of it as home – Blair climbed into his new-ish Chevy sedan. Quite a change from the classic cars he liked so well, but he had to admit it was nice driving something that didn't break down every other day. The sun was setting, and he had the night to himself, unless there was an emergency.

Blair lived in a little one bedroom apartment off West Forest Avenue. It was a second-floor walk-up, sparsely furnished, but it suited his needs just fine. Once inside the door he tossed his keys in a basket that hung from a peg on the wall, and stripped off the shirt that Tommy had left sweat stains on. Lucky thing it was the weekend. Sunday was the only day he had completely free, and that usually meant doing laundry and cleaning the apartment.

Not that the apartment needed much in the way of cleaning. Everything was very tidy and organized, a polar shift from how he used to be. A big part of that was that he'd lost the desire to surround himself with pretty but useless things; no more masks on the wall, or little fetishes lined up on shelves. He'd left his ties to anthropology back in Cascade as well. The most telling thing of all, and something he wasn't even aware of on a conscious level, was that he was still following Jim's house rules even though he no longer lived with the man.

Blair showered, then pulled out a small steak to grill for dinner. He had a tiny balcony off his living room, and an equally tiny BBQ grill. But it was fine just for him. Soon enough he was sitting down to dinner, his MP3 player hooked up to portable speakers and providing nice, relaxing background noise. He planned to spend the rest of the night reading, though he'd been invited out with some of his co-workers for beers and bowling. They always asked him along, even though he never accepted. He was friendly with them at work, but he wasn't looking to make any new friends. Besides, he was too busy.

After washing the dishes and wiping down the top of the table, Blair got out his book – the new Kathy Reichs novel, which he'd picked up from the library earlier that day – and then turned on the laptop to quickly check his e-mail. He and Naomi had recently reconnected, though he wasn't ready yet to see her or even talk on the phone; all of their communication was via e-mail. He'd been the one to reach out, having shut down his old e-mail account shortly after he left Cascade. It had been almost fifteen months, and the anger had long since dissipated. Naomi was his only family and he couldn't shut her out, not completely.

Hi, sweetheart. I've been considering your invitation and I think I may take you up on it, if you're sure. I miss you and would love to come and spend some time with you. I'll be in Nepal for two more weeks and will make plans to return stateside. I'll understand if you change your mind, but I hope you won't. Love, Naomi.

Blair sent her back a short response, saying he'd get in touch with her again in two weeks. Maybe then he'd give her his new cell phone number. If she was going to come for a visit, she might as well have it. He just hoped she would continue to abide by the rules when he saw her. He had made it clear that any discussion of the dissertation, the fiasco that followed, or Jim were completely off-limits.

He turned the laptop off and settled in with his book, reading until well after midnight. But when he got into bed he found he still couldn't sleep. He was nervous about seeing his mother again, after so many months and all that had happened. And here in the dark, by himself, he could admit that he was wondering how Jim was doing. He'd been tempted, so many times, to shoot Simon an e-mail just so they'd have some way to contact him if anything went wrong with Jim's senses. He couldn't do it, though. He'd convinced himself that Jim didn't need him, and he didn't want to open up the door on all that hurt and disappointment again.

He tried desperately hard to forget how he was part of something really great once. Something he'd walked away from.

Blair tossed and turned in the bed until he found a comfortable position, and started running computer programming sequences in his head in an effort to bore himself to sleep. It took another half hour, but finally he drifted off. And dreamed.

*o*o*o*

He was in the jungle, the one from the shared vision with Jim. Everything around him was lush, but tinted a blue that let him know he'd left reality behind. It was so real otherwise, though, full of sounds and exotic smells. He looked around in wonder for a long moment, until he became aware of being watched.

"Uh, hi." He spoke to the large wolf that stood before him, its gaze never wavering. Blair wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. The visions had always been Jim's arena, he'd only be here that one time. The day that Jim had brought him back from the dead.

"Why am I here?" he asked his spirit guide. The wolf threw back its head and howled, a chillingly abject sound. Blair took a step back. The wolf raised its lip in a snarl, and gave him a look that managed to convey both disappointment and aggravation. It turned and started to walk off, then paused and looked over its shoulder expectantly.

"What? You want me to follow you?"

The wolf huffed.

"Uh, okay." Feeling a bit foolish, Blair followed behind the wolf. They made their way between the trees and through the viney undergrowth, until he could make out a shape ahead. As they drew closer, Blair realized it was the black panther. Jim's spirit guide. He froze in place, a tight band of longing squeezing his chest.

The wolf whined, circling and circling the panther but seemingly unable to get close to it. Blair could see now that something was wrong with the magnificent creature. It was lying on its side, chest barely rising with shallow breaths. The once glossy black coat was now dull. But it was the pain in those big golden eyes that dropped him to his knees.

"What happened?" he asked the wolf, as if the creature could respond. Instead, it lay down, head on its paws, as close to the panther as it could get. When Blair reached out a tentative hand, he found that he couldn't touch it either; it was as if there were an invisible wall around the panther that couldn't be breached.

"Oh, God. Jim!" Blair was back on his feet, running through the jungle. He didn't know where he was going, but he was filled with an overwhelming sense of urgency. If Jim's spirit guide was suffering, did that mean the Sentinel was too? He ran and ran until the jungle was a blur around him, ran with tears streaming from his eyes, ran until he was on four legs instead of two.

He howled his agony to the sky.

*o*o*o*

Blair woke with a start, sweating. His heart was pounding in his chest and it took him a few moments to catch his breath. The feeling of dread was still with him, as well as a sense of wonder. The mystical aspects of being a Guide had been pretty slim, with that one shared vision being the only exception. For the spirit guides to reach out to him now was amazing, and also frightening. Something was clearly wrong with the panther, and he was afraid of what that meant for Jim.

He looked at the clock next to his bed. It was early, six am, and it would be even earlier in Cascade. But he had to know. He had to call and make sure everything was okay. Experience had taught him that ignoring messages from the spirit world could have dire consequences.

Blair got out of bed, and made himself walk calmly to the living room for his cell phone. He had the insane thought that if he didn't panic, nothing would be wrong. He didn't want anything to be wrong, because if Jim was having a problem with his senses it would be his fault.

With shaking fingers, he dialed the loft. His insides fluttered at the thought of talking to Jim again after so long. Would he be angry? Dismissive? Had he missed Blair at all?

Nervous flutters were replaced with icy fear when an automated voice came on the line, informing him that the number had been disconnected. What the hell was going on? Blair's mind supplied him with images of Jim killed on the job, because he'd zoned out and had no-one there to help him back out of it. Is that what his dream meant?

Not caring about the time, he dialed the other Cascade number that he knew as well as Jim's. Whatever had happened, he need to know. He just needed to know.

"Banks," Simon growled on the other end of the line. Blair closed his eyes; he'd missed that voice. Missed the man.

"Uh, Simon. Hey, it's Blair."

There was a long silence and he wondered if Simon would hang up on him. Had he burned all those bridges when he snuck out of town? He was ashamed of his cowardly behavior, wished he could take it back now.

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Sandburg?" Simon said finally.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just…I tried to call Jim and his phone is disconnected. I had this weird dream, and I just...where is he, Simon?"

"He looked for you, you know. For months."

And here was the guilt. Blair rubbed his hand on his chest, trying to ease the ache there. He'd thought he was doing the right thing when he left, thought everyone would be better off if he was gone. Had he been wrong?

"Yeah, well, I dropped off the grid for a while."

"No shit, kid."

"Simon, please. I'm sorry I left the way I did. I'm sorry I didn't contact you. Just…please. Is Jim okay?"

The sigh from the other end of the phone made Blair's heart sink. That was not a good sigh. He'd worked with Simon long enough to be able to hear the difference in just that brief exhalation of air. In his mind's eye he could see Simon rubbing the bridge of his nose, glasses in one hand.

"He's gone offline."

"His senses, you mean? What…"

"Not just his senses," Simon interrupted. "Jim. He's just…there but not there. There was nothing we could do."

Blair was confused. He didn't understand how Jim's senses could just go away, or what Simon had meant by Jim being offline as well. The sadness in the other man's voice was palpable.

"I don't know if even you can reach him now, Sandburg."

Taking those words as a challenge, Blair pulled himself together. Jim was in some kind of trouble, and he needed to see if he could help. There was no question of whether or not he'd go; the imperative of the Guide to help the Sentinel was still strong, apparently. He couldn't have fought against it if he wanted to. And he didn't want to.

"I'll catch the first flight out, Simon," he said, all business now. He pushed everything else down, put it away for now. There was work to be done.

"Call me with your flight information. I'll meet you at the airport."

"Thanks. And…I really am sorry."

"I know," Simon replied softly, and hung up.

Blair took a minute for some deep, cleansing breaths, and then he called Ron at CompuTech and Lisa at the Teen Center, letting them both know he'd be going out of town. Lisa promised to notify the kids and cancel his tutoring appointments. After that, all that was left to do was call the airline and throw some clothes in his backpack.

After fifteen months he was finally heading back to Cascade. Heading home.

*o*o*o*

Blair spent the flight from Flagstaff to Cascade beating himself up. He'd felt so righteous when he left. He'd made his sacrifice, done all he could to help Jim, and then ran out wrapping his anger and hurt around him like a blanket. It had seemed impossible, then, for anything good to have come from the renunciation of his diss, with the exception of taking Jim out of the media eye. He hadn't given a thought to how his friends would feel. And he knew now that he must've hurt Jim worst of all.

They'd argued and joked about the Sentinel's fear-based responses, but Blair had completely overlooked them when he took off. Jim's biggest fear was also the one he'd had the longest – fear of abandonment. His mother had left him physically, his father emotionally. And all of that was compounded when he lost his men in Peru. Blair knew this was the reason that Jim was often mistrustful, or pushed him away; he was trying to be pre-emptive, to be the one who initiated the leaving instead of being left. He knew that, and still he walked away. He'd put his Sentinel in harm's way. There was no excuse for it.

Whatever was wrong, he vowed to fix it.

Simon was waiting for him when he walked out of the airport and into the cool Cascade air. Blair breathed deep, a grin spreading over his face. Home. He was just as happy to see Captain Banks, though there was an awkward moment when he wondered if he should give the guy a hug or shake his hand or something. Simon saved him by clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"It's nice to see you, Sandburg."

"You too." He looked at his friend, seeing changes in his face. A few more lines around the eyes, the barest hint of grey at his temples.

"This all you brought?"

Blair hefted the backpack higher on his shoulder. "Yup."

They got into Simon's car, which was parked at the curb, and then they were driving through the heart of Cascade. Blair noted differences here too – businesses that had closed or changed, new buildings that had gone up. God, he couldn't believe how much he'd missed this wet, crime-ridden city. Flagstaff felt light years away.

"Arizona looks like it's been agreeing with you."

Blair pulled his focus back to the man driving the car. "Now I know where the sun goes when it's not here," he quipped.

Simon's lips quirked up in a half smile. Blair wished he could keep things upbeat and easy, but that's not why he was here.

"You still haven't told me exactly what's wrong with Jim."

"You know that saying, lights are on but no-one's home?"

That heavy feeling was back in Blair's chest.

Simon shrugged. "It happened a little at a time. We didn't even realize anything was wrong at first. His senses went down, one by one. Not just his Sentinel senses…all of them."

Blair's eyes widened. "All of them?"

"I think taste went first, then smell. Jim didn't tell me until he lost touch. Couldn't feel anything, nothing at all. When his hearing went, he just shut down. Gave up. Someone had to be with him all the time, we were worried he'd hurt himself." Simon shook his head sadly. "He broke a couple of fingers punching a wall. Never felt it."

Blair was horrified. Nothing in the Sentinel research mentioned any kind of reaction like what Simon had described. He knew that the heightened senses could be repressed, as Jim's had been before Peru. And he could understand them maybe going away forever, but to pull all the normal senses down with them? It was beyond his scope of understanding. He couldn't even imagine how much Jim must be suffering.

"Simon, I…" Blair didn't know what to say. "I was so angry. And hurt."

"You had every right to be, kid," Simon said kindly. "The whole situation was a disaster from start to finish. Jim handled things badly, like he always does. You should've stayed, though, Sandburg. Seen things through. Why'd you sneak off?"

Blair shrugged. "I don't know, Simon. Honestly. I thought I was doing the right thing, thought you all could get back to normal quicker if I was gone. I didn't want people thinking badly of Jim, if I kept hanging around with him."

"Fear-based responses?" Simon chuckled.

Blair looked at him, startled. Then he laughed. "I guess so. Besides, Jim was doing fine without me. I thought it would be okay to go."

"I don't pretend to understand the whole Sentinel-Guide thing between you and Jim, but I know it's more than just you helping with his senses."

Blair shrugged again, but didn't say anything more. His relationship with Jim had always been complicated. He'd never had such a close friend. And as only a close friend can do, they'd occasionally torn each other to pieces. But when things had been good, they'd been really, really good. His happiest times had been here in Cascade.

"Where are we going?" he asked after a while. They'd left the city and were heading out into the suburbs.

"Mountain View."

Blair just stared at him. "The long-term care facility? God, Simon, Jim can't survive in a place like that!"

"Look, Sandburg, we didn't have any other choice. He needs constant care. Even his father wasn't equipped to handle him." Simon sounded defensive, and Blair was instantly contrite.

"I'm sorry, Simon. You're right. You were here, I wasn't."

The conversation flagged again and Blair looked back out the window. Just outside the 'burbs was the big brick building that housed Mountain View. The grounds were meticulously groomed, and there were some people out on the lawn, sitting in Adirondack chairs and wheelchairs. Blair found himself looking at every face. Looking for Jim.

Simon pulled up the curving drive and parked in front of the main entrance. "Give me a call, and I'll be back to pick you up. Don't expect too much, kid."

Taking a deep breath, Blair got out of the car and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He went up the wide concrete steps to a porch that ran the length of the building. He was afraid to go in, afraid to see Jim. At the same time the longing to see him outweighed everything else. Squaring his shoulders, he went through the door and approached the reception desk.

"Hey, there. I'm here to see Jim Ellison."

The girl behind the highly polished desk smiled up at him. "You must be Mr. Sandburg. Captain Banks called to let us know you'd be coming."

She had him sign in and get a visitor's badge, which he clipped to the front of his shirt.

"Mr. Ellison doesn't get many visitors these days. It's nice that you came."

"Yeah, well, we're…old friends."

"You can take the stairs to the second floor, and check in at the nurse's station there. They'll be expecting you."

Blair thanked her and headed up the stairs. At the nurse's station he was met by Lacey Eckles, the RN on shift. She was tall and thin, her face angular but not unpleasant.

"Mr. Sandburg. It's nice to meet you."

"Blair, please."

"Is this your first time visiting Mr. Ellison?"

"Yes. I've been…out of town."

He walked with the nurse down the hall. There were numerous doors on either side of the hall, most of them open. When Blair glanced inside one of them, he saw a fancy hospital bed, a short dresser, and a desk.

"Mr. Ellison is such an interesting case. He presents catatonic, but not classically. There's something going on in that head of his." The nurse looked at him sympathetically. "He won't know you."

"Yeah. I know."

They stopped in front of a room that had the door closed, a brass number 23 on it. "We have to keep him contained, or else he wanders."

"Wanders?"

"Like I said, he's not classically catatonic. Will you be okay?"

Blair nodded, though he sure wasn't feeling okay.

"If you need anything, just press the call button and someone will be right down."

"Thank you."

The nurse made her way back down the hall and left Blair standing there. He took a deep breath, and put his hand on the knob. Jim was in there, but probably not his Jim. The man who had taken the entire city of Cascade as his tribe to protect. The man who insisted on wearing only white socks. Who waited for him on the other side of the door now?

*o*o*o*

He sat in the jungle, patient and watchful. There were sounds all around him – birds singing in the trees, insects crawling along the ground, monkeys chittering to eachother – but not the sound he kept waiting for. He would be patient, like he'd been the other time, in that other jungle. He'd had to wait a very long time then, but he had. And then he'd been able to go home.

If only the chief would come. He'd tell him what to do. He needed to have a mission, some reason to be here. Sometimes he got up and walked around, though he thought maybe he wasn't supposed to. It was hard, just sitting quietly all the time. But the chief would come. And then everything would be alright. As long as he was patient.

*o*o*o*

Blair made it one step into the room before he wanted to run back out. Jim was sitting in a chair by the window, ever so slightly rocking back and forth. He was too thin, and his hair needed trimming; Blair had never seen it so long. The worst thing was that the essential essence of Jim seemed to be missing, as if he were literally a shadow of his former self.

My fault! Oh, God, this is my fault!

He moved further into the room, closing the door behind him and dropping his backpack on the empty desk. There was no indication that Jim heard him. Blair sat on the edge of the bed, where he could get a better look at his friend's face. That was a mistake. Those shrewd blue eyes that once were able to see the finest detail on a bird's wing a mile away were now horribly empty. Simon had been right – nobody was home.

"Jim? Hey, it's me. Blair." He winced at the tentative sound of his own voice, and reminded himself that this man was his friend, not some stranger. "Can you hear me in there, Jim? This is like the mother of all zones, man. I'm not sure what to do here."

He wasn't even sure why he was talking. Simon said his hearing had completely shut down. If this really was a zone, there was no way to bring him out of it without using at least one of his senses. It was hopeless, and for just a moment Blair let himself wallow in defeat. Then he took a deep breath, reminding himself that Jim had felt just as hopeless that day at the fountain, but he never gave up.

"Okay, buddy, we're going to figure this out." He reached out and put his hand on Jim's bare forearm. The rocking stopped and the man became absolutely still. Blair snatched his hand away and waited to see what would happen. Had Jim felt his touch?

After a minute of watching Jim do his best impersonation of a marble statue, Blair touched his arm again. The rocking started back up again, just the same as before.

"Well. Either this means you can feel my touch on your arm, or it's just some kind of automatic brain signal that's not reaching your conscious mind. I sure wish I knew which one it was." Blair sat back on the bed, propping his back against the wall. "I hope you realize this means I get to talk your ear off, big guy."

Just more rocking. But that was fine with Blair. They needed to get reacquainted anyway, and this would be a good way to get familiarized with the new Jim. Every scientific endeavor needed a baseline, right? This was his way of setting one up.

"Simon said you were looking for me. I'm sorry I made it so hard. I traveled around for a while, here and there. You know, it took me a while to make it out of Washington. That was a big step for me. Now I'm living in Flagstaff. I think you'd like it there, Jim. Lots of sunshine, and mountains."

For the next hour he filled Jim in on his travels and his life in Arizona. Even to his own ears it sounded like he'd been hiding there. Going to work, going to the Teen Center, and going home. No friends, no lovers, no outside attachments besides the kids. He'd been lonely, and afraid of taking steps to fix that because it could only lead to more pain. And he'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

"I'm sorry I left, Jim. We should've talked things out. We both acted like idiots, which I know is not earth shattering news to you." Blair ran a hand through his curly hair. "I haven't been a very good Guide. But I can do better. You deserve better. That day, the day you brought me back to life, do you remember that vision? Well, of course you do. Sure. Our spirit guides merged, and became one. And maybe we were too afraid to do the same, but it's not too late. I have to believe it's not too late, Jim."

Blair looked away, and put his hand over his eyes. This was hard. So hard. He was full of regrets, drowning in guilt.

A brisk knock on the door startled him out of his reverie. Another nurse came in the room, a glass with a straw poking out of it in one hand. She was young, he guessed no more than twenty-two, and had her dark hair cut in an attractive bob.

"Hey, Mr. Ellison! It's just me. I brought you your lunch." The young woman hesitated when she caught sight of Blair. "Oh, hi. I didn't know Mr. Ellison had a visitor today."

"Blair Sandburg," he said, sliding off the bed and shaking her hand.

"I'm Sharon Ryan." She crouched down next to Jim's chair and rubbed her hand on his arm. "Are you ready for lunch, Mr. Ellison?"

"What is that?" Blair asked curiously.

Sharon put the straw to Jim's lips and pushed a bit with her finger to get him to open his mouth. "It's a protein drink. We can't get him to chew anything, so his nutritional intake has to be in liquid form. Lots of vitamins in here, right Mr. Ellison?"

The nurse swept the straw from side to side until Jim latched onto it and started to suck. Blair's heart ached at the sight of his once proud Sentinel reduced to eating almost like an infant.

"When he finishes this up I'll take him to the bathroom, and then I'll be out of your hair."

Blair just nodded, watching Jim's adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. Part of him was filing the information away to be looked at later, studied. The sucking and swallowing were automatic responses. The rocking was something else. He had to believe that Jim was in there somewhere, and that he could do something to bring him back, wake him up. It was either that or fly back to Flagstaff and try to put Cascade out of his mind once and for all. But really, what choice did he have? Once a Guide, always a Guide.

Sharon set the now-empty glass on the desk, and pulled Jim up out of the chair. "Come on, you big lug. Bathroom time."

Once he was up, he seemed easily enough led, following Sharon into the bathroom. She shut the door for privacy, and Blair was glad for that. Jim was already vulnerable enough without him having to see more. He himself was exhausted, and emotionally wrung out. Maybe it was time to go.

By the time Sharon and Jim emerged from the bathroom, Blair had called Simon to come pick him up. When the nurse left, he said his goodbyes.

"I'm going now, Jim. But I promise I'll be back tomorrow. We're going to fix this, you and me, okay? We're still a team, right?"

Jim sat in his chair, sightless gaze focused on the window. Blair pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"I'll be back, Jim. I promise."

*o*o*o*

Blair spent the night at Simon's house. He'd been all set to go to the loft, but apparently the lease had come due two months earlier and so it was no longer Jim's place. Everything was in storage. He felt lost, floundering in uncharted seas. No loft, no Jim…it was starting to feel less and less like home by the hour.

Simon ordered a pizza and they made small talk while they ate. Blair wasn't up for much more than that, not tonight. He had a lot to process, and he didn't even know where to start. Simon set him up in Daryl's room, which would be vacant another week while he stayed with his mom. He didn't ask any hard questions, and for that Blair was incredibly grateful.

When he was sure Simon had gone back downstairs, he turned his face into the pillow and wept the loss of Jim.

In the morning, though, he felt a bit lighter and more optimistic. He'd faced a lot of challenges in his life, and for the most part he met them head on. This was no different. He was going to treat Jim's condition like a super zone, and he wasn't giving up until he had his friend back.

He had nothing to go on but a gut feeling, and that feeling told him that he'd be able to reach Jim. His senses weren't really gone, it was just that his mind had somehow convinced him they were. He was still able to receive external stimuli, it was just a matter of getting his brain to start processing it again.

"So, what are you going to do?" Simon asked over breakfast.

"First things first, I'll rent a car so you don't have to keep driving me around. Then I'm going to get to work and see if I can't find Jim." Blair polished off his scrambled eggs and toast. "I'm going to need a place to crash too, I guess."

"I can help you out with the wheels." Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, which he tossed across the table. Blair caught them and just stared for a moment.

"You still have Jim's truck?"

"It was paid for, so we kept it in storage with everything else. Joel gassed it up and dropped it off first thing this morning."

Blair rubbed his thumb along the teeth of the truck key. He felt like this was a sign. Something familiar out of the chaos. His eyes unexpectedly filled with tears, but he blinked them back.

"Thanks, man," he whispered.

Simon squeezed his shoulder as he walked past to put his dish in the sink. "We'll figure out the housing thing later. Daryl won't be back for a few more days and I don't mind the company."

"You're such a softy," Blair teased.

"Just for that, dinner's on you tonight." Simon threw a dishrag in his direction, missing him by a mile.

"Yeah, I can do that. How do you feel about tofu?"

"Sandburg…"

And there was the patented Simon Banks growl. Another familiar thing. Blair grinned.

"Okay, I'm gone. I have to pick up some things, and then get started with Jim. I won't forget about dinner. Oh, hey, where's the storage unit?"

"Stor-Mor on Trafton, unit 45. The key is on the ring there."

"Great. Thanks, Simon."

"Good luck today," Simon said.

"Luck is for wimps!" Blair called on his way out the door, leaving his friend chuckling in his wake.

*o*o*o*

He sat and waited, folding leaves into little shapes. The jungle was a riot of noise, like always. Sounds, colors, smells, textures…it could be overwhelming at times. When it got too bad, he'd put his hands over his ears. But then he'd be afraid of missing it, the sound he wanted to hear. When the chief came with instructions, he wanted to be able to listen and know.

There was something different in the jungle today. He couldn't put his finger on it. Not much changed here. It was there, though. Something just outside his sensory range, something new. But not new. Something forgotten. Once he would have been able to hear it. Once he'd been able to hear a pin drop.

Maybe this was a test. Maybe the chief was testing him. He was ready. He wanted to go home.

*o*o*o*

"Okay, Jim. You've had a nice vacation, but you need to come on back now." Blair unloaded some items from his backpack, placing them on the dresser. The big guy had finished his breakfast and had his morning bathroom pit stop, so there was plenty of time to get some work done before lunch.

"Let's get rid of these slippers." Blair knelt on the floor and plucked the thin, hospital issue slippers off Jim's feet. He replaced them with a new pair of thick white cotton socks. "There we go. Now that's the Jim I know! How are your feet? Nice and comfy now?"

Next he produced the blanket that used to be on the back of the couch. He needed familiar things – textures and smells, things to remind him of home. He put the blanket on Jim's lap, moving his arms so that his hands lay on it.

"Remember this? It's the blanket from the loft. Feel how soft it is? You like soft things, don't you. Well, with your sensitive skin who can blame you? It's been in storage a while, but you can still smell home on it. I know you can, because I can and I don't have your sensitive sniffer."

Blair popped open a portable CD player he'd picked up and stuck in one of his tribal drums discs. Jim had never gotten rid of the things he'd left behind, merely boxed them up and wrote his name across the front in magic marker. He hadn't expected that, and had been touched by the gesture.

"Are you listening, Jim? You were never very fond of this one, but I know you remember it. Jungle drums."

While Blair talked, he rubbed Jim's arms, massaged his hands, squeezed his shoulders. There was no response, not even any rocking, until the second song started. And then Jim cocked his head to one side, as if he were listening.

"Jim? Hey, big guy, you in there? Can you hear the drums?"

There was no other reaction, but Blair counted the one he got as a win. Maybe Jim would only come back by degrees, but he was going to come back. He was surer of that now. He longed to see intelligence return to those empty eyes.

"Don't worry, Jim. I'm not giving up on you. Never again."

*o*o*o*

When Blair returned the next day, Jim was out on the lawn, meandering in wide circles while Sharon watched from a nearby chair.

"Oh, hi Blair! Mr. Ellison decided today was a walking day."

"So I see. You mind if I walk with him a while?"

"Sure thing. If he starts to wander off, just pull on his hand. He'll follow you." Sharon headed back inside, and Blair fell into step with his friend.

"Hey, Jim. What's going on today, big guy?" They walked around a faux-stone bird bath. Jim's steps were a bit uncertain, and he dragged his heels, but he never stopped moving. Blair could only wonder what was going on in his head.

"I saw Joel and Henri today. They were nicer to me than I deserved. Henri said that if anyone could pull you out of this mega zone, it was me. That was nice to hear. He's going to put me up at his place once Daryl gets back. He has a guest room."

Another loop around the bird bath. Jim was wearing the slippers again, but had his white socks on too.

"Remember that time we went fishing? I still have that picture of us. It's one of the few things I took with me when I left. You know, I don't know if I ever told you this, but you're my best friend. I've had a lot of good friends, and a few close friends, but never a best friend." Blair tucked his hair behind his ears. "You can be mad at your best friend, and still love them. Did you know that? That's what makes it so special. No matter what, you always forgive each other."

Jim's shuffling loop was getting wider. Blair reached out, taking one lax hand in his own and tugging his friend back to keep him from getting too far away. When he started to let go, Jim's fingers tightened, squeezing around his hand in an almost painful grip.

"Hey, careful there!" Blair admonished, but inside he was edgy with excitement, and gripped Jim's hand back just as hard. "Can you feel that? Can you feel my hand?"

Jim stopped walking and Blair waited, looking into his eyes for a glimpse of something, some tiny Ellison spark. What he got was one fat tear, running down his friend's face. He pulled him into a hug.

"It's okay, Jim. You're doing great, man. I'm really proud of you."

The lone tear was not followed by any others, and soon Jim was back to his shuffling walk around the bird bath. He didn't let go of Blair's hand until they got back up to his room, and he settled down in his chair by the window, rocking.

"I don't know what you're doing," Sharon said when she came with Jim's liquid lunch. "But I can already see a change in Mr. Ellison. It's amazing!"

"I'm just sorry it took me so long to get here," Blair sighed. He was sorry he'd been unreachable. Sorry he hadn't come back sooner, before Jim was so far gone.

As he watched Jim suck his lunch through the straw, he got an idea for another thing to try. He'd have to square it with the duty nurse first, but he had a feeling she'd agree. Sharon wasn't the only one who'd noticed a change in Jim.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Blair said when it was time for him to go. "We're going to have some fun, you and me."

*o*o*o*

Nurse Lacey was waiting for Blair when he came in the next day, which made him nervous. Had something happened to Jim during the night? His bouncing steps slowed.

"Blair, can I have a minute?"

"Sure thing. Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Everything's fine." She ushered him into her office and indicated that he should sit down. He was carrying two child-sized to-go cups from Wonderburger and he set them down on her desk.

"I'm not sure what it is you're doing, exactly, but the results have been just amazing." Lacey leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. "In all the time that Mr. Ellison has been with us, he has shown no reaction, no affect, no sense that he knew where he was. I hear that's starting to change. From what I understand, this condition came upon him rather suddenly."

"Yeah. Before this happened, he was a regular guy. You know he's a cop?"

"Yes, I do. I've been getting reports from my nurses and other staff. They're convinced that whatever magic you're working with Mr. Ellison, he's coming out of his catatonia."

Blair laughed. "It's not magic, I promise you that. I mean, he hasn't really lost any of his senses; it's his mind that's made him think they're gone. All I'm doing is easing them back out, waking up those parts that have fallen asleep. Jim has always been…special. I'm just more equipped to reach him."

Lacey looked at him for a long moment, her face betraying nothing. "The story is true, isn't it. About Mr. Ellison being a Sentinel."

Instant, reactive panic. Blair's hands tightened into fists on his lap and he tried to think of something to say. The nurse held up her hand.

"It's alright, Blair. I'm not going to the press or anything. It just helps me to understand that what you've been able to do…isn't something that my staff would've been able to do." She smiled. "Mr. Ellison is special, that's true. But so are you, for coming back here and doing what you're doing. I just wanted to let you know that."

Blair felt the prick of tears behind his eyes as an unexpected wave of gratitude washed over him. Lacey took pity on him and sent him on his way, never asking about the cups or trying to get him to explain what it was he was doing to bring Jim back to the land of the living.

By the time he got to Jim's room he was back in control of himself. Juggling his cups, he knocked on the door and then pushed his way inside. A big grin split his face when he saw his friend's head cocked again, listening.

"Good morning, Jim!" He set the cups on the desk and shrugged out of the backpack. "Can you hear me this morning, big guy? I've brought some things to tempt your taste buds today."

One of the cups was empty, and Blair filled it with the algae shake he'd made that morning and put in a thermos. The other cup had a strawberry Wondershake in it, and that's the one he grabbed first.

"Let's see if you remember this, Jim. Open up." Blair used the same technique that Sharon did, getting him to open his mouth and start sucking on the straw. After he'd gotten a few pulls on the strawberry shake, he took that cup away and replaced it with the algae shake.

"Told you I'd get you to drink one of these someday. Let's see what you think about a nice, healthy algae shake."

Jim took three sips from the straw and then he pulled his head away. His blank face registered the first emotion Blair had seen from him since he'd been back – distaste. Jim's brow furrowed and his nose crinkled up.

"Yeah, I thought so," Blair laughed. He brought the strawberry shake back, and Jim's face smoothed back out. "You're still in there Jim. I wish I could just yank you back, all at once. I miss you, you know."

Jim made quick work of the small strawberry shake, and when the cup was taken away he frowned, just a little. Blair kissed the top of his head.

"I know, you like that one. Maybe I should just bring you to Wonderburger. I bet you'd have a miraculous recovery." He chuckled. "I'm sure your arteries have been missing that double bacon deluxe."

Blair sat on the bed and watched his friend. He had the blanket in his lap and he was clutching it in one hand, the other still and lax. Taste, touch and hearing had all gotten responses. Blair was pretty sure he could get something working with smell, too, but he didn't know how to work with Jim's vision. Those eyes were always open, always vacant. There had to be something, he just needed to think about it.

"You know, Jim, I've been thinking a lot about that vision we shared. I can't help feeling we were meant to do something with that. Maybe it was supposed to bring us closer together, I don't know. Maybe if we'd tried to figure it out, we wouldn't be here like this right now. You know what I mean?"

Jim rocked.

"Life just went on like normal, man, and it shouldn't have. Not after what we went through. Not to be judgmental or anything, but you need to stop pushing me away. I can't be your Guide if you keep me at arm's length." Blair drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them. "I want to be your Guide, Jim. It's the most important thing I've ever done. And I get why you act the way you do, really, but there comes a time when you have to look at yourself and decide not to keep going with the flow. And I want to help you with that too, man."

With a sigh, Blair looked up at Jim. He was still rocking, still holding tight to that blanket. And silently crying, tears washing down his face.

"Oh, no, no, don't do that!" Blair hopped off the bed and knelt on the floor beside Jim's chair. He covered his friend's hands with his own. "It's okay, big guy. I'm here. Why are you crying? Were you listening to me, Jim? I didn't mean to make you sad."

Wishing he had a tissue, Blair pulled his sleeve over his hand and wiped at Jim's face with it. The tears stopped, leaving his eyelashes spiky and wet. There had been no change to his expression during all of that, no spark of life in his eyes, but it was a good sign nonetheless. Somewhere inside his head, he was feeling.

"We're going to get through this, Jim, I promise. We'll be drinking beers and watching Jags games before you know it." Blair gave him a hug. "You and me against the world, Ellison. Don't forget."

*o*o*o*

Blair left Mountain View to have lunch with Simon. He wanted to update him, and also give himself a little time to decompress. It was hard, being the only one holding up the conversation. Plus, he didn't want to push Jim too hard. He'd taken some pretty amazing steps that morning, but rushing him would only make things harder. As usual, the Sentinel had other ideas.

As soon as he got to the second floor, Sharon was calling for him from Jim's room.

"Blair! Come quick, before he stops!"

There was no hesitation. He broke into a run, his heart pounding in fear. He was certain something was wrong, but when he skidded to a stop by the door and looked inside, Jim was still sitting and rocking in the chair by the window. Blair looked at Sharon, confused.

"Listen to him," she said excitedly.

Jim was humming.

"Can you believe it?" Sharon asked, clapping her hands together.

No, Blair couldn't believe it. It was a tuneless hum, no rise or fall to it, but he thought he'd never heard anything sweeter. He walked over to the chair and rested his cheek against the top of Jim's head, hands rubbing up and down the other man's arms.

"Hey there, Jim. You trying to tell me something? Tired of me having the last word, I bet."

"You're really doing it," Sharon said, her voice hushed. Blair looked over at her and saw the worshipful look she was giving him.

"No, he's doing it. He's trying to come home."

*o*o*o*

Blair was regaling Henri with stories from his first few weeks as a police observer, while they both cleaned up the dinner dishes. He was able to laugh about some of the things he'd done now, though at the time he'd been lucky not to get himself killed. When his cell phone rang and he saw the number, he was torn between excitement and apprehension. It didn't take long for him to know which way to go.

"Mr. Sandburg? This is Carol Whitehouse, the night nurse at Mountain View. I hate to bother you, but do you think you could come in? Mr. Ellison is very agitated and if we can't get him to settle down soon we're going to have to give him a sedative."

"No! No, don't do that. He's very sensitive to medicines. I'm on my way."

"Everything okay?" Henri asked.

"Something's up with Jim. I'm sure he's fine. I don't know when I'll be back…"

"I'll leave the door unlocked for you, Hairboy."

"Thanks, H."

Blair set a new speed record getting to Mountain View, and considered himself lucky he didn't get pulled over. The girl at the reception desk waved him on through and he ran up the stairs. All the action was happening in Jim's room, by the sound of things.

A male aide had his arms wrapped around Jim's chest, while another dodged the wild kicks as his legs thrashed. The Sentinel was grunting, a guttural, primal sound. A nurse hovered, syringe waiting in her hand. The look of relief on her face when she saw Blair said a lot about his perceived powers over Jim. Time to see if they were right.

"Jim, hey, calm down man. Shhhh. It's okay. I'm here now. Calm down." Blair made his way carefully across the room, his hands up. The second aide moved out of his way. "What happened, big guy? What's got you all riled up?"

"I'm not sure what happened," the nurse said from behind him. "He had his dinner and we'd got him settled into bed. One of the aides was walking by the room about ten minutes later and looked in when he heard a noise. Mr. Ellison was banging his head on the wall."

Jesus, Jim, what's going on in that head of yours?

Now that he was closer, Blair could see a reddening lump on his friend's forehead. "Geez, Jim, what are you doing? You don't want to hurt yourself like that."

The thrashing was starting to lessen, and the aide loosened his grip just a bit. Blair was close enough to touch him now, and he did. He put his hands on either side of Jim's face, thumbs stroking lightly over his cheekbones. The man immediately stilled, doing his statue impersonation again. No more grunting, no more flailing. Blair nodded at the aide, who released his hold. Jim stood on his own, chest heaving from the unusual amount of exertion.

"That's it, Jim. Nice and calm. Let's get you back into bed, okay?" Blair moved his hands down to Jim's shoulders and then his arms, never losing contact, until he had both of the man's hands in his own. He walked backwards, tugging his friend towards the bed.

"I think we'll be okay now," Blair said to the nurse. She nodded.

"Just press the call button if you need anything. Stay as long as you need."

Blair got Jim into the bed and tucked him in. His friend looked exhausted. He ducked into the bathroom to wet a washcloth. When he came back and sat on the side of the bed, Jim was humming again. Blair gently wiped the sweat from his friend's face.

"Still trying to find your voice, big guy? You'll get there. Don't rush it. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Jim's eyes started drooping.

"That's right, Jim. Go to sleep. You've had a really busy day. I'll stay here with you, okay?" Blair kissed his forehead, staying clear of the bump. "No more hurting yourself, either. I mean it."

The Sentinel dropped off to sleep, and Blair moved to the chair, propping his feet up on the end of the bed. He'd keep watch, and make sure his friend slept easy.

*o*o*o*

Blair woke, his neck stiff from sleeping in the chair all night. There had been no further disturbances, aside from the nurse sneaking in to cover him with a blanket. He looked over at the bed, expecting Jim to still be sleeping, but the man had pressed himself into the corner, knees up and hands over his ears.

"Jim?"

The older man winced and hunched his shoulders more than they already were, a keening sound slipping past his lips. Blair was out of the chair in a flash. Jim had heard him. Had really heard him! Which was great, except that it seemed like Sentinel hearing was back online too, and that presented a problem. Would he be able to get him to use the dials?

First things first, Blair shut the door to the room to keep out some of the ambient noise from the hall and the nurse's station. Not that it would help all that much if his hearing was cranked all the way up. When he spoke, Blair pitched his voice as low as he could get it, until it was practically subvocal.

"I know that hurts, big guy. Do you remember the dials? Can you see the big radio dials in your head? There's one there just for hearing. You need to dial it down, Jim. Dial it down until the sounds don't hurt you." Blair rubbed his arm, hoping this was sinking in. "Find the dial, Jim. You're the only one who can do this, okay? Dial it down."

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was probably only five minutes, Jim lowered his hands from his ears and cocked his head, listening. The briefest smile flitted across his face before the same passive look settled back in. Blair gave his arm a squeeze before he let go.

"Can't ever do anything the easy way, can you?" Blair stood and stretched, trying to pop out some of the kinks in his back. "You hang tight here, buddy. Sharon will probably be in soon with your breakfast. I think I need to have a word with Nurse Lacey."

When he was certain that Jim wasn't going anywhere, he headed out to find Lacey. Turned out she was heading down the hall to find him, so they met in the middle.

"I hear we had some excitement last night," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll say. It's not over yet, either. Can we talk in your office?"

They walked in silence back to Lacey's office and Blair turned down the offer to sit. He'd done quite enough of that for one night.

"In regards to what we talked about the other day," he said hesitantly. "You're right about Jim, about why he's special. He's starting to come back, and his…special senses are coming back too. He won't be able to moderate them without my help."

"Just tell me what you need," Lacey said with a smile.

*o*o*o*

Blair didn't get back to Mountain View until well after lunch. He'd gone back to the storage unit to get Jim's sheets and some of his clothes, then over to the market to pick up the special brand of detergent that they'd always used. He washed everything at Henri's, stuffed it all into one of Jim's suitcases, and grabbed the rest of his stuff too. Until his Sentinel was fully online, he'd be staying with him.

He got back just in time to diffuse another outburst. Jim was pacing around his room, doing the preverbal grunting thing again. Sharon was relieved to see him.

"He's really upset," she said. "I think…I think maybe now that he can hear things again, he probably mostly wants to hear you."

That took Blair by surprise. And it made sense. "You know what, I think you're right. Thanks, Sharon."

The nurse took her leave and Blair set his backpack and the suitcase down just outside the door. He watched Jim's jerky, agitated movements for a few moments. He was getting his Jim-ness back. It was like slowly filling a cup with water; it would take a little while, but soon he'd be full again. There was no doubt about that now.

"Hey, Jim," Blair said. The other man immediately froze in place, head cocked almost comically to the side. "Have you been giving Sharon a hard time?"

Another flash of a smile brightened Jim's face. Blair couldn't resist going over to give him a hug. When he pulled back, the grunting stopped and Jim bent down, pressing his ear against Blair's chest.

"Missed that, did you?" He rubbed Jim's back. When his friend stood back up, Blair's breath caught at the beatific smile on his face. He started in humming again, but this time it had a happy, lilting quality to it.

"Oh, man." Blair couldn't help grinning himself. "You have no idea how glad I am to see that smile, Jim. You keep coming; I'm here waiting for you."

While he re-made the bed with too-big sheets, Jim stood in the middle of the room, seemingly following his every movement by the sounds he was making. This was the most present that Jim had been and Blair felt a bit intoxicated by it.

"Just putting your own sheets on the bed, big guy. When touch comes back I want to be ready for you. When Sharon comes with dinner we'll get you changed into some of your own clothes too."

He passed that time just chatting with Jim about Henri and Simon, and reminiscing about some of their past escapades. He tried to keep it light; he didn't want to hamper Jim's recovery with anything negative or potentially distressing. When Sharon came with the dinner shake, Blair enjoyed the poleaxed expression on her face when Jim turned his big, bright smile on her for the first time.

"Wow," she breathed. "Mr. Ellison, look at you!"

Jim listened to her progress across the room, and when the straw touched his mouth he opened it without being prompted. Sharon shook her head.

"I've never seen anything like it. He's coming along so fast now!"

"Well, he's a pretty determined guy," Blair said with a chuckle. "Now that he's decided to come back, there'll be no stopping him."

"I can't wait to meet the real Mr. Ellison," Sharon said with a grin. "He must be a great guy, to have such a good friend like you."

Blair thanked her for the compliment, but didn't bother telling her that wasn't the case at all. It was his fault that Jim needed so much help. He could never do enough to make things up to his friend. Assuming he still wanted to be his friend, once his full faculties returned. No sense worrying about that yet, though.

"Glenn will bring the cot in soon," Sharon said as she headed out. "I'm glad you'll be staying. I think Mr. Ellison will like that."

"Thanks, Sharon."

When the nurse left, Blair sat on the bed and watched his friend. Jim's eyes were closed and his head cocked, a little smirk on his face now. He wondered what the Sentinel was listening to.

"I hope you're not eavesdropping, Jim," Blair said scoldingly. "What do you hear?"

"Mmmmmmm," Jim replied.

"Expanding your vocabulary? You overachiever."

"Mmmmmmm."

Blair just chuckled. He wondered how long it would take Jim to get some actual words out. Not long, he suspected. He wanted to hear his friend say his name, or call him Chief like he used to. God, how he'd missed that.

"You know me better than anyone on the planet, Jim. Not sure you ever realized that, but it's true. You know what make me me. I'd forgotten how much I needed that." Blair ran a hand through his hair.

"Mmmmmmm."

*o*o*o*

The cot they gave Blair wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was better than the chair. He was actually getting a really decent stretch of sleep when he was suddenly awakened in the middle of the night by someone squeezing his arm.

"Wha…" he said, snapping awake. He blinked in the darkness, realizing that Jim was sitting on the floor next to the cot. His hands were the ones moving up and down Blair's arm, squeezing and touching.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Mmmmmmm," Jim said happily. His hands moved up to Blair's head, gently touching the curls that spread across the pillow. He pet them and wrapped them around his fingers, tugging ever so slightly. It took Blair's sleep-muddled mind a minute to catch up.

"Okay. Touch is back online. Good. That's good." He shifted so that he was leaning up on his elbow. "How are your dials, Jim? Have you found the dial for touch and turned it down?"

The only response he received were fingers moving over his face, following the slope of his nose and tracing the shape of his lips. It was a very Miracle Worker moment, which made Blair chuckle. Jim's fingers immediately moved down to his throat, feeling the vibration there.

"You know, you never used to be this touchy-feely. You keep this up and I'm going to tell Simon."

Jim's hands moved over his chest, stopping over his heart. Blair wondered what that was like, being able to feel and hear his heartbeat simultaneously. Cleary Jim was enjoying it. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Blair could see the big smile on his friend's face.

"You never used to be this happy, either," Blair whispered. "Hold on to that, Jim. Keep that happy. You deserve it, so much."

Jim tapped him on the chest. "Mmmmmmm."

"You think I need some too?" Blair patted him on the cheek. "You're my happy, Jim."

The Sentinel rested his head on Blair's chest, one arm thrown across him, humming happily.

*o*o*o*

Blair decided it was time to get back to work. Jim's senses seemed to be coming back in the order that he'd worked with him on them. He needed to move on to smell. He imagined that would be easy enough, and made another trip to Wonderburger. Before Sharon came around with lunch, he got out a couple things from his backpack.

"Okay, big guy. Time to kick your sense of smell into gear. Take a nice deep breath and tell me if you smell that." Blair held a jar of Vicks Vaporub under Jim's nose. No response. Next came a little container of bleach. Still no response. Okay, time for his ace in the hole. He pulled out the double bacon deluxe and turned a bit of the wrapping over, exposing the burger. He could tell Jim was listening to every move he made.

"Try this one on for size." Blair held the burger under Jim's nose. He pulled his head back, as if startled, and cocked his head, listening to what only he knew.

"You know this one, Jim. Double bacon deluxe, your favorite Wonderburger burger. Say that ten times fast!"

Jim slowly moved forward, sniffing delicately. Those empty eyes widened. "Mmmmmmm!"

"That's right. You remember…" He was cut off when Jim suddenly lunged forward, thrusting his face into Blair's hair. "Whoa! Hey!"

Suddenly he had a lap full of Sentinel, sniffing him like a cat and rubbing his cheek on Blair's head. The instantaneous return of smell was certainly unexpected, as was the close scrutiny he now found himself under. He was glad he'd showered that morning.

"Am I interrupting?"

Blair looked up and blushed to the tips of his ears when he saw Simon standing in the doorway. He pushed Jim out of his lap and hastily got to his feet.

"Oh, hey! Um…yeah, Jim's having a little trouble with personal space right now. Smell just came back online."

"Right."

"Mmmmmmm." Jim followed his ears until he was all up in Simon's personal space too, feeling his glasses and sniffing at his coat. He immediately started to sneeze.

"Dial it down, Jim. Find the dial for smell and turn it down." Blair kept his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I think it's your cigars, Simon."

"Look at him," Simon said wonderingly. "It's been a long time since I've seen him this…active."

"He's got hearing, touch and smell back online," Blair said, catching him up. "This is still all the talking he's doing, though."

Simon gave him a speculative look. "I was right about you, Sandburg. You've only been here a week and look what you've managed to do."

"I can't take the credit here, Simon. It's Jim. He decided he was ready to come back, I'm just helping show him the way."

"Mmmmmmm," Jim agreed. He came up behind Blair, wrapping his arms around him and sniffing at his hair again.

"I'd say he missed you, Sandburg."

"It's a Sentinel thing," Blair protested, ignoring the way Jim was sniffing his neck. Simon quirked an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

"Chhhhhh," Jim said.

"You'll get it, big guy," Blair said, patting one of the hands that was wrapped his waist. "You keep trying."

"What's he trying to say?"

"Hell if I know." Blair heard Sharon coming down the hall. "Stay for lunch?"

Simon stood against the wall and Blair sat on the cot, watching Jim grab hold of the cup. He ran his hand up and down the side, feeling the condensation and the cold.

"This ought to be good," Blair whispered.

Jim put the straw in his mouth, then almost immediately spit out the little bit of protein shake that hit his tongue. Sharon quickly grabbed the glass before he could throw it.

"Does this mean he has taste back?" she asked, dabbing at the speckles of shake on her scrub top.

"Safe to say," Blair laughed. Jim's facial expression had been the perfect blend of disgust and unpleasant surprise. But he was already on the move, following his nose to the cooling burger on the desk. Before anyone could stop him he'd snatched it up and shoved a large portion of it in his mouth. The brilliant smile he flashed around a mouthful of Wonderburger made both Blair and Simon crack up.

"Mmmmmmm, chhhhhh."

"Yeah, I heard that, man." Blair held his stomach, he was laughing so hard. "I heard that."

*o*o*o*

Simon spent a couple of hours with them at Mountain View, most of it outside. Jim explored the grounds with the exuberance of a small child, and Blair had to stop him from putting everything in his mouth to taste. As excited as he was to rediscover his world, the Sentinel never strayed far from his Guide, coming over repeatedly to pet his hair or touch his face.

"Sandburg, what you've done here is nothing short of miraculous," Simon said as they wandered around, following Jim. "But how is he going to be? Mentally, I mean. Cause right now he seems like a little kid."

"Think of Jim like a computer. His hard drive crashed, and had to be rebooted. It's going to take a while for everything to come back online, but it will." Blair gave Jim a pat on the shoulder when he came over again, reassuring him that his Guide was still close by. "I can't imagine what it's been like for him these last few months. I guess it would be like solitary confinement, stuck in a dark, quiet hole and then suddenly let back out, sent back home. Everything is new to Jim right now. His memories, his life experiences, those will all come back. I mean, it's not like he had a brain injury."

"You're worried," Simon said, quirking an eyebrow. "Doesn't take a professor, or a Sentinel, to see that. I don't think you need to be. I'd say he's pretty glad you're back."

"Chhhh," Jim said, coming over again. He patted Blair on the chest and rubbed his cheek on his head.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop worrying. Jeez." And it was hard to be concerned on a day like today, when the sun was making a rare appearance and Jim was zigzagging all over the lawn, trying to experience everything through the four senses he had working. One big one left to go.

"Any ideas on how we can get his sight back online?" Blair asked.

"You're the expert."

"Yeah. That's me. The big expert." He sighed. "Jim, get that out of your mouth!"

"Seems to me he has plenty of stimulation right now, and that's not working. What about showing him some things from before?"

Blair thought about that. What could he show him that would be enough to get his sight online? He thought about all the boxes in storage. And how fixated Jim was on him right now. And suddenly he had it.

"You're a genius, Simon!" He slapped him on the back.

"Thanks for noticing," Simon replied loftily.

*o*o*o*

It took Blair an hour in the storage unit to find the right box. Then he had to detour over to Henri's to use his washer and dryer again. If this didn't work…well, he'd just have to think of something else. Or maybe Jim's sight would come back on its own, now that the others were in full swing. Waiting for tomorrow would be hard, but it was already late and he needed to get back to Mountain View to get Jim settled in for the night.

Carol Whitehouse met him at the door.

"Thank God you're back!" She pulled him inside, but instead of going up the stairs they went down the hall into the rec room.

"What did he do now?"

"We don't know what's wrong with him. I'm afraid it's a relapse."

Blair's stomach twisted. He'd never considered a relapse, and it seemed cruel to even suggest it, not when Jim was so close to being whole again. But there he was, standing in the corner of the rec room still as a statue. An iron band seemed to tighten around Blair's chest, but only until he noticed that Jim had his head cocked slightly to the side.

"Oh, man. Okay. Just a zone. It's just a zone." He scrubbed his hands over his face.

"A what?" Carol asked, confused.

"It's okay. I've got this."

"Are you sure? I can call an aide."

Blair turned and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Really, Carol. I got this."

"Well, alright…" She turned and left the room.

Blair walked over to Jim and put a hand on his arm. Still, he was so still. After all the ceaseless movement he'd shown lately, it was even harder to bear. Just a zone, he reminded himself. He knew how to deal with a zone.

"I know you can hear me, Jim. It's time to come back. You better not have been listening for me, man. I told you I had to leave for a little while." He squeezed Jim's arm. "Feel my touch. Come on back, big guy."

The Sentinel drew a deep breath, then sagged against Blair, almost sending them both to the floor. It occurred to him that he never asked Carol how long he'd been like that, frozen in place.

"It's okay, Jim. I got you. I told you I'd be back, man. Didn't you believe me?"

"Chhhhhh," he said, his voice thick.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get you upstairs and into bed."

But Jim didn't feel like moving, except to wrap himself around Blair and rest his head on the shorter man's shoulder.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, Jim." Blair rubbed his back. "I'm here."

"Chhhhhh." He sounded frustrated, and tightened his grip on his Guide.

"Don't force it, Jim. The words will come, I promise they will."

"Uhn. Chhhhh. Chhhhh." He buried his face in Blair's hair and took a deep breath. "Chhhief."

Blair froze, feeling like he'd been kicked in the solar plexus. How long had he waited for that word, for Jim to call him by the old familiar nickname? He felt tears gathering in his eyes as he pushed back, trying to see his friend's face.

"Jim?" he whispered.

"Chhhief," Jim repeated proudly, patting Blair on the head. "Mmmmmy Chhhief."

"Your Chief," Blair agreed, and the tears fell freely now. "Always your Chief."

Jim sniffed at his face, then touched a finger to his cheek. He put the finger to his mouth, tasting Blair's tears, and made a stricken face.

"Mmmmmmm?"

"Sorry, Jim. I'm not sad. I promise I'm not." Blair dragged his arm across his face. "It's just…I've been waiting so long for you to talk to me. I'm happy. I'm very, very happy!"

Jim smiled then. "Chhhief."

*o*o*o*

Sharon had taken Jim for a walk outside so that Blair could get ready. He took a shower and washed his hair, brushing it all out so that it would dry loose and extra curly. He put on the clothes he'd taken from the storage unit – cream colored button-down shirt and the blue patchwork vest his mother had sent him from South America. It was the outfit he'd worn the day Jim had come to Rainier, the day he'd agreed to teach him how to use his Sentinel senses and then saved him from being run over by a garbage truck. He'd even found the CD he'd been listening to that day.

It was his hope that he could coax sight back with an image from Jim's past, one he knew the man would remember. And if that stubborn sense needed extra help, it could piggyback on hearing. Between the two, he was hoping it would be enough sense memory to shock sight back into place.

He didn't have as long to prep as he'd have liked, because Jim couldn't bear to be away from him for any great length of time. All too soon he got the heads up that they were coming back upstairs. He put the music on and turned his back to the door.

When he heard Jim's gasp, he turned back around. Jim was looking at him. No, not just looking. Really seeing him. Blair made eye contact with him for the first time in fifteen months.

"Hey, Jim. Long time no see."

The look of shock on his face quickly changed to pain and he clapped his hands over his eyes, moaning. Blair shut off the music and hurried to Jim's side, ignoring Sharon's stunned face.

"I know it hurts. Find the dial, Jim. It's the last one. Find the vision dial and turn it down. Turn it down so you can look at me, big guy. I need you to look at me."

When Jim finally lowered his hand, when he finally looked at Blair, his smile was blinding. "Chief!"

"You see me," Blair whispered. "You really see me."

Jim cupped his face, turning his head this way and that as he studied every minute detail. He held up strands of Blair's hair to the light, examined his hands, and all the while he kept smiling. He seemed to be using all his senses together to gather a complete picture of his Guide; he rubbed his cheek on Blair's head, sniffed at his clothes, listened to his heartbeat, looked searchingly into his eyes, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"Welcome home, Jim," Blair said, his voice thick with emotion. "Welcome home."

*o*o*o*

Dear Naomi, I'm hoping you won't mind if we postpone your visit another two weeks. Jim had a crisis and I've been spending all my time in Cascade working with him. I do want to see you, though, and I hope you'll hang around for a while. In the meantime, my phone number is 928-555-8520. Please call. I really would like to talk to you. Love, Blair

*o*o*o*

"Hey, Mr. S!" Tommy waved from the sidelines. Blair had missed his first official game, but had made it back in time for his third. Coach Dearly said he was doing really well, and the other boys seemed to be helping him out, for which Blair was indeed grateful.

"Go, Eagles!" he shouted.

"That's Tommy?" Jim asked, sitting beside him on the bleachers.

"Yup. He's a great kid. Taught him everything I know about basketball."

"That must've been a quick lesson."

"Ha, ha. Can't tell you how much I missed your sense of humor." Blair slugged him in the shoulder, but nothing could dispel the warm feeling that was running through him, that had in fact been growing there since Jim had started waking up from his long sleep.

"I'm sorry you missed his first game," Jim said quietly.

"Have you forgotten rule number one already?" Blair asked in mock exasperation.

"No guilt in the Sandburg Zone."

"Don't forget it." He patted Jim on the cheek.

Reconnecting with each other hadn't been without its problems, once Jim was fully in his right mind again. They'd both been suffering under the weight of too much guilt – Blair for leaving, and Jim for not trusting him. So Blair had established some rules, and leaving guilt at the door was the very first one. They couldn't move forward if they were always looking back, saddled with regrets.

Rule two was Talk It Out. A lot of their trouble had come from poor communication. However minor the issue, Blair wanted it out in the open. Rule three was Take It One Day at a Time. Jim was still struggling a bit with his senses, and would sometimes drift off into his own world for long periods of time. Blair did his best to keep him from feeling frustrated when that happened.

The unspoken rule was Jim's, and involved constant contact with his Guide. Blair had thought that would wear off after a while, but so far it hadn't. Jim was constantly touching him – hugs, pats, squeezes, whatever helped him to get through the day. And if he was honest, Blair had to admit he didn't really mind it. He'd always been a tactile person, and after going to long with minimal human contact, he was glad for whatever Jim wanted to give him.

It had been a bit more difficult to get over the awkwardness of sleeping in the same bed with his best friend, but he had simply because there was no other choice; Jim suffered from insomnia and was prone to nightmares if he didn't have Blair right there to hang on to. They were working on some strategies so that Jim could stay home by himself without losing it, in the interests of Blair keeping his job.

There was no sexual component to all this touching, though Blair knew that he probably couldn't convince anyone else of that. It was just Jim's basic, human need for physical contact, a need that had often gone unfulfilled throughout his life, and especially the last few months. Given all the changes that the Sentinel had gone through, it wasn't any big surprise – to his Guide, anyway – that his insecurities were manifesting this way. It was evident how far along Jim had come, that he could express his needs and not try to send them on an express bus to Repressionville.

"Oooh, he's going in!" Blair tapped his hand on his leg anxiously.

"Relax, Chief, before you give yourself an aneurism."

"Have fun. Teamwork. Listen to the coach," he muttered to himself.

"When did you become a rule maker, Sandburg? It's a disturbing quality."

Blair would've loved to make a snarky come back about a certain person becoming so touchy-feely, particularly when that person was tightly clutching his hand, but that was his unspoken rule. He didn't want to make Jim feel badly for needing him so much. Because he was sure that it was temporary, and there was no reason to make a fuss about it. So what if they got funny looks sometimes? He was used to that anyway.

"Number four is open!" Jim shouted, getting into the spirit of the game. "Pass the ball!"

Taking his eyes off of Tommy for a second, Blair threw his friend an amused look. It was a little strange, being back in Flagstaff with Jim. Cascade had always seemed like home, but the truth was that wherever Jim was, there was home. And when he'd expressed his desire to see what life was like in Arizona, well…Blair had been thrown for a loop.

To be honest, there wasn't much in Cascade for Jim at the moment. The loft was gone, and he wasn't anywhere near ready to go back to the job, not until he got a handle on the touchy stuff. It was the people he'd miss more than anything else – their friends at the PD, Jim's father and his brother, the various people they'd come to know through the job. And maybe they wouldn't stay in Flagstaff for long, but their options were wide open. They'd had several conversations about other ways Jim could look after his tribe, without being a cop.

Best of all, he and Jim were making new memories now, and Blair's little apartment didn't seem so empty anymore. Now it was filled with love and friendship, with Jim's cooking and Blair's music. They'd lived together for four years, and knew each other so well that their interactions at home were almost instinctual. It had been a long time since Blair had been as happy as he was now, and he didn't ever want to take that feeling for granted.

"Did you see that play? That was beautiful." Jim had his full attention on the court now.

"I forgot how emotionally involved you get in basketball," Blair observed. "Although I thought it was just a Jags thing."

"With plays like that, it's any team. No! You have to hit the open man!"

Blair just grinned. And when Tommy made a basket, they both surged to their feet to cheer him on.

*o*o*o*

The wolf and the panther lay side by side in the jungle, the wolf's head protectively covering the panther's neck. There was nothing keeping them apart now, this pride-pack of two. Each drew its strength from the other, supported the other. Two creatures with one soul.

The panther began to purr as the wolf licked its ear.

---

AN: When this bunny bit me, it latched on and wouldn't let go. I spent three days writing this out, forsaking housework, work-work, and holiday decorating. My hubby was getting ready to unplug the laptop…permanently. But I couldn't stop until it was finished.

I hope you like reading this as much as I did writing it!