"Jim....Jim!" Simon was shaking him now, trying to get him to acknowledge his presence. Jim didn't know if he wanted to be back in this world right now.
"What?"
"Blair is in recovery. He came through the operation with flying colors."
So Simon was going to play that game with him as well. Jim knew the statement for what it was; a well-intentioned lie meant to bring Jim into the present, but as he looked at the doctor, who earlier today had been amused by the excessive concern they'd shown over Blair's condition, he saw only grim resignation. Blair's stomach had been punctured. They'd repaired the damage, but he'd lost so much blood, and in his already weakened condition....
Jim tuned it out again. He'd stay with Blair now, not leave his side until he was well enough to walk out or it was time to bury him. He didn't ask where his friend was, he just found him. Wires and tubes and monitors filled the intensive care unit. Objections were made to his presence, but he didn't budge.
Time became a blur after that. Nurses came and went. Simon brought food for him. A woman he recognized as the department shrink came in and tried to convince him to leave, even going so far as threatening to have him forcibly removed, but eventually she gave up. A day passed without any noticible change in Blair. Jim read to him from the book he'd brought, struggling over words he could neither understand nor pronounce. He allowed himself to be convinced to take a shower and change in a nearby room. A day later, Naomi arrived, full of tears and hope. She stayed with Blair too, and Jim felt some comfort in that. It was as it should be. Blair would want his mother here.
On the third day, Blair stirred, and for the first time Jim began to see light at the end of the tunnel. He was in bad shape. The pain in his stomach was terrible, and the drugs did little to alleviate it. In Blair's rare moments of wakefulness, he would just lie there, dull-eyed from the pain. Sometimes he would sob. Mostly, though, he slept. Slowly his condition began to improve and Blair had more and more periods during which he seemed more like his old self. It would be weeks, maybe even months, before he'd be able to eat solid foods again. Longer than that before he'd be allowed the spicy foods he loved. He was alive, though, and that was the only thing that mattered.
Blair turned to him after his sixth day in the hospital as if noticing him for the first time. "You look like shit, man."
"Thanks. You don't look so hot yourself."
"You've gotta go back to the loft and get a good night's rest. I'm not gonna croak in the next twelve hours, I promise." Jim knew it was a reasonable thing to do, but he couldn't seem to make his body get up and leave. Blair seemed to sense that. "Look man, I know you're worried about me, and I know you feel guilty, but this has got to stop. You're scaring me."
"It's OK, Chief. I just want to make sure you're safe."
"And what are you going to do when they release me from the hospital? I think dates might be a little awkward with you tagging along. Especially if we...if we...you know." He grinned an evil grin.
"I'll just stay here a while longer."
"Jim...." Blair's eyes filled with tears.
"What's wrong?" He stood and sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"After everything that's happened, I really couldn't handle it if you went over the edge. Do you know how close that shrink was to commiting you? Do you know how close they are now? Simon's been keeping his cool so far, but he's losing patience. He's afraid for you." The tears he was trying to suppress leaked out of his eyes and down his cheeks. "I am, too. Please, Jim. Stafford is dead. I'm alive. It's over and we need to move on."
Jim had always prided himself on his self control, but he lost it now. All the fear, anger and pain he'd held in check for the last few days rushed forward like a bursting dam. "I'm sorry, Blair. I knew from the beginning that you shouldn't have been used as bait. I knew this would happen and I didn't try hard enough to stop it."
"How? How could you have stopped it? Lock me in my room? Toss me in the slammer? This was my choice all along. I had a bad feeling about it too, but I ignored my own instincts. It almost got me killed."
"No, Blair. If I'd insisted, if I'd worded it right, I could have stopped you."
Blair brushed the tears away in frustration. "At what cost? If I start to allow you to make my decisions for me, what kind of man will I become? The sidekick everyone already thinks I am? No way, man. I prefer to remain an independent human being."
"Blair, this feeling I had, it was deeper than just cop instinct. It was something more. I didn't just think you'd get hurt, I knew it."
"Like a premonition?" Jim saw a familiar light in Blair's eyes.
"No. I just knew. Like knowing that the sky is blue and today's Tuesday."
"It's Wednesday, Jim. But I see what you mean. This is a sentinel thing, right? Like a sixth sense?"
"I don't know. I just know that if I ever get that feeling again, I'll tie you to a chair in the loft if that's what it takes to keep you safe."
"You won't have to. You tell me when that kicks in and I'll be more than happy to become a hermit until it passes."
Jim felt the corners of his mouth turn up. "OK"
"Are you feeling it now?"
"What?"
"The bad feeling. The sidekick in danger thing. Are you feeling it?"
"No, of course not."
"Then go home."
"Blair..."
"Jim, I love you man, but you are getting a tad ripe if you know what I mean. Even mom's been having trouble dealing with it, and you know how she loves to let people be themselves. She's been rethinking that philosophy in the last couple of days."
"I love you too, buddy." Blair looked startled as Jim reached over and grabbed him in a bear hug, but it didn't matter. If he never said the words again, his friend would always know how important he was to Jim. He heard a sob and thought it was Blair, then realized he was the one crying. Jim released Blair and quickly wiped the moisture from his eyes.
"It's gonna be OK, man. You know? I've been in trouble before, I'll probably be in trouble again, but I trust you. More than anyone else. None of what happened was your fault. You tried to warn me. You did everything you could to convince me not to do it. In the end it was my choice, and I made the wrong one. Except maybe it wasn't. Maybe this happened so that we'd know how important it is when you get one of those feelings. There's no way either one of us will ignore them from now on. Maybe I had to come close to dying for you to realize what it meant."
"Sure."
"So go home and get some rest. Please. I need some too, and I haven't been getting much worrying about your mental state."
Jim hadn't realized he'd been causing so much concern, but thinking back he couldn't remember much detail from the last few days. Maybe it was a good idea. "OK." Jim straightened and tried to regain some semblance of his former self. "I'll see you later tonight."
"Jim, it's already 7. I'll see you tomorrow morning, 'kay?"
"OK." Jim had the urge to embrace his friend again, but he settled for a swat on the cheek. "Don't cause any trouble while I'm gone."
