As usual, the standard characters do not belong to me, but the story is mine with an idea born from a Mysterious Ways episode. Annabelle and Renkin also belong to me.
Special thanks to my incredible beta, Zoe, for keeping me sane (as sane as I get anyway) and grammatically correct.
Also thanks to Kent for all the technical medical jargon.
CHOICES
Lady Sam Mallory
Chapter 1
Jim could hear Blair's heartbeat bursting through his chest as he ducked behind some oil drums. He took a deep breath, knowing his Guide was safe for now. He raised his weapon and slowly worked his way through the junkyard.
Jim glimpsed movement from the corner of his eye and fired a shot at the target, knowing as he turned he'd hit his mark.
He could hear Blair's heartbeat behind him now. His attention divided suddenly; there was another heartbeat closing in on his Guide. Quickly, Jim covered the ground between them with little regard for himself. He brought the man down just a few feet behind Blair.
"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked concerned.
"Yeah," Blair began, then his eyes opened wide. "Look out, Jim!" Blair screamed the warning as he shoved Jim to the ground.
Blair was thrown into the mortar wall as the force of the bullets lifted him from his feet. He gasped at the pain ripping through his chest and head.
Jim rolled, shooting Blair's attacker twice to bring him down permanently. He raced to Blair's side pulling out his cell phone.
"This is Ellison, we've got an officer down at the junkyard at 3451 McKensie Street. Send an ambulance and a squad car," Jim barked into the cell phone.
"Blair, it's gonna be okay. Just hold on, Chief."
"Hurts..." Blair cried through gritting teeth.
"I know. Just let me see," Jim took off his coat and covered Blair to keep him from going into shock as he talked to him. Listening for movement throughout the junkyard, he ascertained that all the perpetrators had been neutralized. "I'm gonna get the first aid kit from the truck. I'll be right back, Blair. Just hold on."
Jim grabbed the kit and was back in less than two minutes. He knelt down next to his Guide.
Blair moaned, tears rolling freely down his face mingling with the blood from the head wound. His breath shook with ragged gasps for air.
Jim cradled his partner wondering how long it would take the ambulance when he felt Blair fighting to breathe.
"Blair?" Jim questioned.
"Can't..." Blair managed between gasps. The veins in his neck were protruded, and his lips were tinged blue.
"Where the hell is the ambulance?" Jim fought to keep the terror from his voice.
Blair tried in vain to breathe, but the pain in his chest was too great. He began to lose consciousness.
"Chief, hold on," Jim begged. He could hear the sirens and knew they wouldn't make it in time.
"Blair, your right lung's collapsed. We gotta relieve the pressure in your chest or you're not gonna make it. I did this as a medic, but it's been awhile," Jim stated tensely.
Blair's blue eyes pleaded with him for help and he knew what he must do.
Opening the first aid kit, he took out the antiseptic, gauze, a 16-gauge needle (that he shouldn't really have) and the tape. He set the materials he'd need on a clean piece of gauze and cut through Blair's shirt to expose his battered chest. Jim gasped at the bulging of the tissues between the ribs and above the clavicle that confirmed the lung had collapsed and Blair would die if he didn't hurry. He sterilized the needle and looked down at his Guide.
"Okay, Chief. I'm going to insert this needle between the 2nd and 3rd ribs. It'll hurt at first, but it should make the pain decrease and you'll be able to breathe. You have to stay still, okay?" Jim's hands shook slightly as he raised the needle to begin.
Blair nodded, barely conscious, and flinched, crying out as the needle pierced his already tender chest but he willed himself not to move.
"Almost there, Chief," Jim whispered between clenched teeth as Blair fought the instinct to turn away from his partner.
Jim firmly shoved the needle in and was rewarded with the sound of air rushing out of the needle. He packed the needle in gauze and taped it down, placing a small flap of medical tape over the end to prevent air from going back in. Blair was moaning, but a weak smile crossed his lips as he took in a shallow, painful breath.
Jim circled behind Blair to his uninjured side and held his hand as he heard the ambulance pull through the front gate of the junkyard.
"They're almost here, Blair. Just hold on," he whispered into soft brown curls.
The ambulance arrived on the scene and Mike Benton, a paramedic they knew all too well, jumped out of the truck and grabbed the portable medical kit.
"What have we got, Jim?" Mike asked, getting out his gear.
"He took one in the chest and one in the head. He developed a tension pneumothorax and I had to relieve the pressure," Jim replied despondently, grateful for his army medic training.
Mike's partner ran up with the rest of the equipment strapped to the gurney and stopped just short of Blair's crumpled form.
"Okay his pulse is 155 and BP is 75/50. We need to get him stabilized," he breathed, inserting the IV needle into Blair's left arm at the back of the hand. "Airway's clear. Let's get him on the truck!"
Blair groaned as they lifted him up to the gurney and rushed him to the ambulance.
Chapter 2
Jim hated the hospital. More appropriately, Jim hated the amount of time he seemed to spend at the hospital since meeting his Guide three years ago. This kid was a blasted trouble magnet. But what really bothered Jim was the number of times Blair ended up here because he had saved his Sentinel's life.
"Any word yet, Jim?" Simon asked worriedly.
"No! It's been four hours. What the hell is taking so long?" Jim stalked across the waiting room, eyes burning with anger and apprehension.
"Jim, it takes awhile to put all the pieces back together. Not to mention, you said he had a collapsed lung. They probably just want to make sure that he's okay before they finish."
He paused, looking at one-half of his best detective team.
"Look, Jim, you're a mess. Why don't you let me take you home so you can get cleaned up?" Simon pleaded.
Jim looked down at Blair's blood staining his shirt and jeans. He was a mess! He hadn't realized how much blood Blair had lost, but one look at his clothes and his stomach rolled violently. He studied each fiber of his clothing and the now brick red blood that could be seen dyeing each individual fiber. Blair's blood. He started to sway on his feet. Captain Banks caught him and lowered him into a chair off to the left.
"Jim? Damnit Jim, come on back now," Simon beckoned gently, still a little freaked out by the sudden zone.
"I'm okay, Captain. Thanks. I guess I kinda zoned out. Sorry."
"It's okay, but you're exhausted. You've been chasing those guys for the past week, and I know for a fact that you aren't getting enough sleep. I'll see if I can find out about Blair and then will you go home?" Simon begged again.
Jim looked at the ground feeling a bit defeated, "Sure, once we talk to the doctor, I'll go home while Blair's in recovery," Jim acquiesced, "but I'm coming right back here after I clean up."
"I kinda figured you would," Simon said with a sly smile.
Both men leapt to their feet as a doctor walked into the waiting room.
"Are you here for Mr. Sandburg?" At their nod, he continued, "I'm Dr. Tim Harris. I'm the surgeon who's been working on your man. Please follow me to the consultation room," he requested, turning on his heel and leaving the room.
Jim and Simon followed the doctor hoping all would be well with their friend. Once in the consultation room, they all sat down and the doctor started.
"Mr. Sandburg was struck by two bullets. The first bullet glanced off his frontal plate, which in itself did very little damage. However, there was blunt force trauma to the back of his head causing a moderate concussion. The second bullet penetrated his chest, collapsing his right lung and lodging next to his spine at the thoracic level. We managed to repair the damage to the lung and stop the internal bleeding. We were also able to remove the bullet, but its proximity to the spine could cause some complications post-operatively. Do you have any questions?"
"Uh, yeah!" Jim replied sarcastically.
Simon put his hand gently on Jim's shoulder. "We've been under a lot of strain, Dr. Harris. I'm sorry."
"You said he had a moderate concussion. What can we expect from that?" Jim questioned tentatively.
"We won't really know until he wakes up. He's in a very fragile state right now. He actually crashed twice in the OR and had to be resuscitated." Jim looked away, tears in his eyes. "We have him on a respirator to allow the lung to mend and we're flooding his system with antibiotics, but the rest is up to him," the doctor finished curtly.
"Thank you, Doctor," Simon smiled compassionately for all that the man had done for Sandburg.
Chapter 3
It was so cold. Why was it so cold? He shivered as he pulled himself up from the rocky ground. His unsure footing caused him to stumble looking at the scene opening around him.
"Where am I?" he voiced under his breath.
He looked around at his surroundings determined to ascertain what had brought him here. Everything was fuzzy, his mind confused by the warm cotton that engulfed it.
I'm standing in a stream, but how did I get here? Was I camping with Jim and just zoned off as my partner often does? That just didn't make any sense. Oh good, I'm rambling, again, he thought grumpily. He could see nothing but the stream and trees all around him.
The gentle rays of sunlight pouring from the sky were warming his body. If only he could remember how he came to be here.
Shaking his head, albeit a bit painfully, he decided to walk and see where it would lead him.
Jim threw his keys and badge frustratingly into the basket next to the door. He climbed the stairs to his room and quickly grabbed a change of clothes, then proceeded downstairs to take a shower.
Pausing at the door to Blair's room, he pushed open the door and tentatively stepped into the room. He could smell his Guide strongest in here, the woodsy herbal scent of his shampoo, the "old" smell of the textbooks strewn haphazardly around the room, the leather of Blair's backpack that was his lifeline to the known world.
Jim sighed, picking up the backpack as he sat on the bed heavily. What would I do without my Guide and why are so many people interested in trying to find out? Blair wasn't even supposed to be there, he had a late lecture, but he came because I needed back up, Jim thought bitterly. Curling up with the backpack and Blair's pillow, he soon fell into a trouble-filled sleep.
The panther was beckoning that he follow. Blair stared after the black beast wondering, not for the first time, whether Jim's spirit guide was real or imagined.
He'd been following the panther for what seemed like forever and he was still as lost as ever. He was no closer to finding out where the hell he was and where was Jim for that matter?
He was getting tired and he couldn't stop his head from pounding in time with his heart. His stomach rolled, but he managed to keep it all in.
"Hello," the small voice whispered, causing him to turn suddenly. Standing before him, a girl about seven years old with little blonde curls, smiled gently. "What's your name?" she spoke softly.
"Blair," he replied with a cautious smile. "What's your name? Do you know where I am?"
The little girl smiled widely at him. "My name's Annabelle," she said quietly, yet enthusiastically. Her smile turned to terror as she watched him double over moaning in front of her. "It don't hurt so much if you let go," she informed softly.
"Let go of what?" Blair asked indignantly.
"Everything. Come," she gestured for Blair to follow her with a slight wave of her small hand.
Turning, she giggled and skipped off deeper into the woods. Blair shook his head and followed her, increasing his stride slightly to catch up.
"Shhhhh," she breathed, her eyes dancing with delight. "Tiptoe," she giggled as she led him up to a small log cabin. Opening the door gently, she peeked inside and beckoned Blair to follow her.
He walked through the door tentatively, unsure of what he would find. "Hello?" he called a bit nervously.
"Come in, Blair. We've been expecting you," a deep voice rumbled.
Chapter 4
Jim slammed his fist into the filing cabinet causing Megan Connors to nearly jump out of her skin. It had been four days since Blair had been shot and he still had not awakened. I can't keep going on like this. I can't think about anything but Blair, Jim thought sadly as he examined his hand carefully.
"Come on, Jim, Sandy's gonna be fine. You'll see," she reassured him, placing a hand on his very tense shoulder. "Why don't you head over to the hospital and sit with him awhile? That always seems to calm ya down a bit."
He shrugged out of her grasp. "I just can't concentrate on this case right now and the more time goes by, the less likely I'll catch the bastard," he scowled.
"Well, love, why don't ya let me an' Rafe an' Brown handle this one, okay? We'll clear it with the Captain. Just go be with your partner," she said taking the file and turning away. "Oh and tell Sandy we're thinkin' of 'im."
"I will, and Megan, thanks," he intoned warmly, then grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.
The hospital was bustling when Jim arrived, and he turned his dials down to avoid the obvious discomfort that would be awaiting him. Slipping quietly past the craziness, he slid into Blair's room and over to the bed where his partner was laying.
Jim reached out and gently touched the side of his partner's face. He turned toward the door as it swung open admitting Dr. Harris and another man Jim could only assume was another doctor.
"Detective Ellison, this is Dr. Brendan Tanner. He's the neurologist we brought in for a consult. We're a bit concerned that Mr. Sandburg has not regained consciousness since the surgery. He really should have awakened by now," Dr Harris informed Jim.
Jim paused trying to find his voice. At last he replied, "Will he ever..." Jim looked away unable to finish the question.
"It's too early to tell right now," Dr. Tanner stated understandingly. "The longer he is unconscious the more likely it is he will never wake up."
Jim held his breath not wanting to process the words. Rubbing his eyes and the bridge of his nose, he wiped away the tears forming there.
"Will you please step outside so that we may examine Mr. Sandburg privately?"
"Yeah, sorry," he apologized, leaning over Blair's eerily still form. "I'll be right outside if you need me, Chief," his voice caught on the title that endeared his friend to him. Turning on his heel, he walked out the door quickly while he could maintain his control in front of the doctors.
Stepping into the hall, Jim turned up the dials on his hearing to ensure the doctors were telling him everything.
"Well, Brendan what do you think?" Dr. Harris asked, already knowing the answer.
"He's been unconscious for four days, Tim. He's showing no signs of improvement. The wounds seem to be healing nicely, but without the respirator, he would be unable to breathe on his own and his body would shut down. His brain waves are erratic and we're unsure of the amount of brain damage. Have you talked to the family about pulling life support?" Dr. Tanner asked his colleague.
"No, and to be honest, I'm hesitant to bring it up with Detective Ellison. He's the boy's emergency contact and I doubt he would even comply," Dr. Harris replied crisply.
"Well after a few more days, he may not have a choice."
"I know, but I want to give it those few more days, Brendan. The kid's 28 years old and I'm not willing give up yet, myself. This kid's a fighter!"
"I hope it's enough," Dr. Tanner replied, shaking his head sadly.
Jim pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes willing the words to be false. He knew what he had heard and his focus, which abruptly shifted to his Guide's heartbeat, intensified as he listened to the steady beat. Thump... Thump... Thump... Thump...
The sound echoed in his heart as he began to slide down the wall.
Simon approached Blair's room steadily until he saw Jim sliding down the wall. Oh, my God, Blair's dead, he thought trying to find the words to comfort his best detective.
"Jim?" Simon shook him gently. "Jim!" he yelled shaking him more vigorously. "Shit, Jim don't you zone on me. You get back here right now, damnit," Simon hissed below his breath, shaking Jim firmly.
Suddenly, Jim gasped and focused on the Captain. "Simon?" he asked hazily.
"C'mon Jim, let's get you off the floor," he smiled pulling Jim up gently, but firmly. Jim grasped Simon, leaning on him heavily until he could get his feet under him.
"They don't think he's gonna make it, Simon," he started with tears rolling down his face. Embarrassed, he swiped them away angrily. "He just has to make it, Captain, because without him, I know I can't make it," Jim whispered despondently.
"Jim, why don't you go in and see Blair. Just be with him, man. That's always helped before," he reassured as he steered Jim back into the room. "Dr. Harris, may I speak with you, please?" Simon asked as he lowered Jim into the chair next to Blair.
"Of course, Captain," he nodded as he excused himself from Dr. Tanner's presence. "Right this way. The room across the hall is vacant so we should be able to speak there with few interruptions."
"Thank you," he replied, then turning to Jim, "I'll be right back."
Simon and the doctor headed across the hall.
"Is Detective Ellison alright? He looked like he was in shock," Dr. Harris began concerned.
"He was. He overheard some of what was said when he left the room."
"Oh my God! I am sorry, but I had assumed when he stepped out into the hall that he would be unable to hear us."
"Jim and Sandburg are the closest team I have and Jim wanted to be close by. He was leaning on the door and inadvertently overheard some of the statements before he went into shock. Now, that said, I want an update on Sandburg," Simon commanded, his quivering voice betraying him slightly.
"Mr. Sandburg is in a precarious position right now. Think of it as balancing on the edge of a cliff. On one hand, he could step back and come out of this with little to no brain damage. But one small step forward and he's spiraling to the ground below. Mr. Sandburg's been unconscious for four days, so it's most definitely not unheard of that he would wake up and be fine, but he's still not breathing on his own. Without the respirator, your man would die. Mr. Sandburg also has a living will that we must adhere to."
"What do you mean he has a living will?" Simon asked angrily.
"Mr. Sandburg has a legal document that says we are bound by law to avoid using extreme measures if two doctors agree that his death is inevitable," Dr. Harris answered waiting for the Captain to absorb the information.
"So Sandburg basically signed papers saying not to go to extreme measures if what?"
"If he has a disease, illness or incurable injury certified to be terminal," the doctor continued. "I told Dr. Tanner that I want to give Mr. Sandburg a few more days before we consider removing all life support thus putting the advance directive into effect."
"Does Jim know that Blair has this?" Simon asked hesitantly.
"I assumed he did because he has medical power of attorney over Mr. Sandburg's case."
"Jim would never let you take him off the machines. He couldn't bear it," Simon replied sadly.
"The living will supercedes the power of attorney unless there are extenuating circumstances, Captain. In a few days, he won't have a choice. Now, I'm sorry but I have to attend to my other patients. If you'll excuse me?" He slipped past Simon and walked out the door.
Simon walked back across the hall as the nurse escorted Jim out of Blair's room.
"I'm sorry, Detective, but this is ICU and Mr. Sandburg needs his rest. Remember, you can only visit for 15 minutes at a time every 2 hours," she scolded with a sad, knowing smile.
"Jim, we need to talk. Let's go to the loft so you can get a little rest," Simon begged of his detective not for the first time today.
"No, Simon. I need to be here for Blair. I'm fine," he replied listlessly.
"No, Jim, you're not, but we've got some things to discuss. Now I don't wanna order you to go home, but you damn well know I will. Rafe and Brown are on the way here and have orders to call if anything happens, so let's go." He grabbed Jim's arm and steered him toward the elevators.
"Who are you?" Blair demanded trying to keep the pain and fear out of his voice and failing.
"Don't you remember me, Blair?" the older man asked gruffly.
Blair took a moment to study the man with a scientific eye. "You kinda look like Professor Renkin, but you can't be him."
"Why not?" the man asked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.
"Well, man, because he died like 10 years ago," Blair replied getting a bit agitated at the games.
"While that is true, you were one of my brightest students. I'm surprised that you would be so close-minded, Blair," the professor baited.
Blair retreated, shocked a bit by the man's reaction. "What are you?" Blair asked nervously.
"I am the go-between," Professor Renkin replied resigned.
"The go-between for what?"
"This life and the next," Renkin answered with a smile.
Chapter 5
Jim stepped out of the steaming shower and had to admit that he felt better. He toweled off quickly and pulled on his jeans and a clean T-shirt.
He padded down the hall to find Simon waiting for him on the couch.
"Okay, Simon, what was so important that we had to come here to discuss it?" Jim started, seeking the answers in his friend's eyes.
Simon took a deep breath. "You better sit down, Jim," he began, knowing this would be the hardest job he'd ever undertaken. "Dr. Harris told me today that Blair made you his medical power of attorney, not just his emergency contact."
"So I'm responsible for making decisions for Blair's welfare?"
"There's more," Simon spoke gently, hoping to cushion the next blow. "Blair has a living will, Jim. That means he won't allow extraordinary measures to be taken if there's no hope of recovery from an injury."
"Well, that doesn't matter because he will recover!" Jim snapped loudly.
"Listen, Jim. You heard what the doctors said. If Blair doesn't wake up soon, they are uncertain that he ever will." Simon knew he was treading on dangerous ground. "Dr. Harris has agreed to give him a few more days, but if he hasn't awakened or improved, he will take Blair off the respirator..."
"NO!" Jim shouted as tears rolled down his face.
"Look, Jim. Try to think about this from what Blair would have wanted. Would he want to have machines breathing for him and spend the rest of his life lying in a hospital bed completely oblivious to the world?" Simon lowered his eyes at his friend's pain.
"I know this is hard, Jim. But I also know that you would wanna do what Sandburg wants. I know that you wouldn't decrease the value of his life by leaving him in that bed forever."
Jim turned away unable to control his grief any longer. He quickly got up from the couch and ran to the bathroom to relieve his stomach of what felt like everything he'd eaten that week. When he was finished, he splashed cold water on his face and rinsed the vile taste from his mouth.
"Jim, are you okay?" Simon hollered through the door worriedly.
"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute."
Jim looked in the mirror at the hollowness of his face and eyes. How could I survive without my Guide, my best friend, the only one I truly trust? He paused as his stomach rolled again threatening to unleash vengeance for this line of thinking. Taking deep breaths like Blair showed him, Jim managed to calm down enough to rejoin Simon in the living room.
"Sorry, Simon," Jim replied looking at the floor.
"It was bound to happen sooner or later as tightly as you're wound, man," Simon accused.
Jim threw him a dirty look. "We better get back to the hospital. I don't wanna be gone too long in case Blair needs me." He got up from the couch and grabbed his keys from the basket by the door.
Simon followed him to the car.
"I'm sorry, man, what did you say?" Blair asked doing a double take.
"I am the Guide between this world and the next. You should know about Guides, Blair," Renkin teased knowingly.
Blair gaped at his former mentor for what seemed an eternity. "So, then who's the little girl?"
"She too is a Guide. She brings the misguided ones to me and you are most definitely misguided, Blair," Renkin warned. "You fell off your path and will not be able to get back on it. Your Sentinel may not survive without you."
"Which is why I have to get back to where I'm supposed to be - by his side! Tell me how to get out of here so I can get back. NOW!" Blair's voice raised proportionately with each passing word.
"You can never go back, Blair. You're dead," Renkin snapped at the foolish Guide.
Blair doubled over in pain as the full impact of those words hit him full force. "But that can't be," he cried. "If I'm dead, why do I still feel pain?"
"You still feel the pain because your mind won't let go of your corporeal life, but your body is gone, Blair."
Blair responded the only way he could think of - he cried.
Chapter 6
Jim sighed as he stepped back to allow the nurses to do their work. Another day had gone by and his Guide was still unconscious and unresponsive. He was aggravated with them for taking some of his valuable time with Blair, but he knew they were doing what they must.
Jim rubbed his face briskly trying to wake up. His muscles and bones ached from disuse and he wanted nothing more than for his partner to wake him and tell him it was all a horrible nightmare. He scarcely heard Joel come into the room.
"Listen, man. You aren't gonna help Blair if you fall on your face. Why don't you come down to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat with me?" Joel begged of his haggard friend.
"No, I'm fine. Why doesn't he wake up, Joel?" Jim scowled.
"Look, the way I see it, Blair's been through the wringer and he just wants to take an extra long nap. You know that kid's always goin' mach 2 with his hair on fire. He's just catchin' up on a year's worth of sleep. Now listen close, Jim. I've never seen you in worse shape, so let's go clean up before the kid wakes up and seeing you scares the hell out of him."
Jim smiled briefly looking up at his friend. "I can't leave him alone," Jim started and held up a hand to block Joel's forthcoming protest, "but I'll go with you if you get one of the guys to sit with him."
"No problem, man. Consider it done." Joel stepped out the door and returned a few minutes later with Rafe in tow. "Here you go, Jim. Now let's get out of here for awhile."
Jim leaned carefully over his Guide avoiding all the wires, tubes and bandages that were holding the man together. "I'll be right back, Chief," he whispered into his hair as he softly traced the line of Blair's jaw. "You behave for Rafe," he baited, daring his partner to wake up.
Joel grabbed Jim by the arm and led him from the room to the cafeteria.
Once situated, he watched as Jim pushed the food around his plate.
"Food's already dead, man, so stop playin' with it and start shovelin'!" Joel commanded, a smile starting to play at the corners of his mouth. "Where were you?"
"I was thinking about Blair," he admitted guiltily. Seeing Joel's warning expression, he continued. "Blair's the only person I've ever gotten this close to. Hell not even Carolyn could get into my head like Blair can. It used to scare the hell out of me, but now I'm all right with it."
Joel nodded wanting to let his friend say his peace without interruption.
"When he first came to the loft, I thought he and that damn monkey were going to drive me insane, but just the reverse happened. I kept my sanity because he was there. If he dies..."
"Jim, don't," Joel cautioned.
"Damnit Joel, he has a living will. He won't allow them to take extraordinary measures to save his life in the face of a debilitating injury. Dr. Harris told me earlier that tomorrow they're removing him from all life support and he'll have to make it on his own," Jim's voice cracked and he turned away to hide the tears forming in his steel blue eyes.
"Jim, Blair won't have to make it on his own 'cause he's got you, man," the big man finished, having difficulty with his own emotions.
Jim smiled, "Thanks, Joel. I guess I didn't see it that way."
Blair doubled over in agony unable to catch his breath.
"Let it go, Blair, and you'll be free. No more pain... No more indecision... No more worries... Just quiet lasting peace," Renkin tempted.
Blair thought about resting quietly forever. "I like to move around too much to ever be quiet," he choked on the words as they passed his lips.
Then Blair saw it. A black blur outside the window beckoning him. Suddenly, the night was pierced by the wounded cry of the panther. "Jim," he cried under his breath as he launched out the door.
Blair felt the branches whip at his face as he raced through the woods looking for anything that could guide him home. Great, I'm a Guide and I'm looking for a guide to guide me home. Whoa! That thought just increased my headache a hundred times. Stop it and pay attention, Blair, it's gotta be here somewhere. He looked around wildly ready to grasp for any straw that would lead him to his Sentinel.
Jim clutched the back of the chair with white knuckles as he listened to the doctors prattle on about his Guide. He occasionally caught words like hopeless and inevitable, but he couldn't make himself focus on their actual words.
"Detective Ellison?" Dr Harris called for the third time. "I know this is difficult for you to hear, but we haven't come to this decision lightly. It's been 9 days and Mr. Sandburg is still unresponsive. At your request, we allowed him an additional 48 hours, but as you can see it was fruitless," he paused, seeing anger flash in the Detective's eyes.
"To keep him in this state would be cruelly against his own wishes. I'm sorry, Detective, but we have no alternative. Mr. Sandburg is to be removed from life support, immediately."
Jim sunk to his knees as the words echoed inside his head. Systematically, he started to withdraw into himself, removing the pain that this decision had carried with it. Simon, standing at the glass windows, saw Jim fall to his knees and rushed in to help him back to his feet.
"C'mon Jim, you gotta keep it together long enough to say goodbye," Simon reminded him gently.
Jim brought himself back to the room. I will not let Blair die alone, he vowed. Jim quietly took his place on the bed, folding Blair gently into his arms, as tears began to form in his eyes. He focused his hearing upon the beating of his best friend's heart. Slowly, he became aware that the machines had been shut down. He could no longer distinguish the sounds of the respirator pushing air into Blair's lungs. It was eerily quiet, except for the faltering beat of his Guide's beloved heart.
"Oh, God, No!" he cried out, tears rolling freely down his face.
Chapter 7
What was that? Blair thought wildly. "Focus, Blair, you have to get back to Jim! He needs you and you most definitely need him!" His thoughts ran frantically through his head and he smiled as the answer finally came to him. "The water!" he cried. "I have to get back to the water."
Blair listened intently to the sound of the rushing water. He broke into a run as fast as his legs could carry him. Seeing the river wind about 200 yards ahead, he redoubled his efforts, but his legs were becoming leaden. The closer he got to the water, the more difficult it became to move. The pain was blinding, but he thought he could hear Jim calling him.
After an eternity, he dragged himself onto the rocky beach and fell face first into the freezing water. He gasped as daggers of ice penetrated his broken body.
Jim could almost no longer detect Blair's heartbeat. The monitor was still showing 10 beats per minute, but Jim knew better. His Guide was gone.
Suddenly, Blair's body arched from the bed and a ragged gasp escaped from his blue tinged lips.
Jim's eyes widened, "Chief, that's right, come back to me. Come on, you can do it. I'm right here... I'm right here... I'm right here," he repeated over and over again.
Blair's penetrating blue eyes snapped open as another gasp pried its way through clenched jaws.
"It's okay, Chief. I've got you," Jim whispered into long brown curls. "I'm right here."
"Oh my God!" Dr. Harris exclaimed. Realizing his patient had awakened, he scurried to the bed to take vital signs and check on the status of his patient.
"That was remarkable!" Dr Tanner whispered amazed at the apparent miracle he had witnessed. "I'll need to run some tests," he spoke evenly.
Jim sat on the bed, cradling his Guide, daring any of the nonbelievers to try and move him.
Chapter 8
One week later...
Jim stole a glance at Blair relaxing on the sofa as he made lunch for the two of them.
"What?" Blair breathed without taking his eyes from the television.
"I'm just glad to have you home, Chief," he started as he came in from the kitchen handing Blair a plate heaping with pasta. Jim couldn't help but smile as Blair hungrily attacked the pasta and bread.
"What?" he repeated trying not to sound annoyed. "Look, big guy, I know it was a close call, but really I'm fine," he took in Jim's unbelieving eyes. "I promise you that I'm not going anywhere for awhile, okay? Now will you please let me eat in peace?" Blair teased.
"Chief, I know we talked about the woods, Professor Renkin, Annabelle and the panther in the hospital, but one thing still has me a little confused."
"Just one?" Blair asked, a smile playing mischievously at his lips.
"How did you know that the water was the way to get back?"
Blair paused thoughtfully before answering. "It was a couple of things really. The pain was the greatest when I was in the water," he paused, emotionally unable to continue for a moment.
"You said a couple of things, Chief. What was the other?" Jim questioned, needing to know the answer.
"As I got closer to the water..." he paused, "I could... feel you calling me home," he answered with a grateful smile. "Look, I know I said it before in the hospital, but thanks, man."
"I couldn't have done it without you, Blair," Jim smiled as they finished their dinner.
"Jags game?" Jim asked trying to lighten the mood a bit.
"Definitely, man," Blair replied letting his Sentinel off the hook.
The End