Thanks for following this story so far and for all your feedback. I'm sure you'll enjoy this chapter as there's lots of angst and a bit of Hell stuff from Sam (you know me, I never shy away from digging deep into Sam's messed up mind), and much more besides. Happy reading! More notes at the end.
Chapter 6
Blair woke up to a throbbing pain in his head. He had been there before and knew the symptoms of concussion. The only problem was, he could not remember why he was concussed. The last clear thing in his mind was Agatha Demetrios' house. What had happened there?
He tried to put forward the scattered events in his mind. He was running – he and Sam were – but he could not remember where or why. Then they had fallen. Slowly, it came back to him. Cerberus' appearance. The chase. Their attempt to hide in the under-construction house and how it had backfired.
Blair lifted his head. Everything was dark, so they had to be in a basement of some kind. There was no sign of Cerberus. It was quiet.
"Sam?"
He heard a sharp intake of breath, but nothing more. Sam was somewhere close by, but he was not responding to him. Blair sat up, blinking away the dizziness. He tried to get up and nearly passed out again at the pain in his right leg.
"Oh man," he muttered. "This is not good."
He fumbled in his pocket and retrieved his flashlight and his phone. The phone seemed to have died, so, unless Sam's was working, they were stuck in there for a while. Blair switched on the flashlight.
"Sam?" he repeated.
He shone the flashlight around him. He was in a basement of sorts, with half the rotten boards crashed all around him. Sam was close by. In fact, Blair could have reached out to touch him without having to move much, but something in Sam's wild eyes warned him that would be a very bad idea right now.
"Sam, are you ok?" he asked, shining the flashlight in Sam's general direction, taking care not to let the beam fall directly into his eyes. "That was quite a fall, right?"
The look of terror on Sam's face unnerved him.
"Quite a fall," Sam repeated flatly. "You knew this would happen."
Blair frowned.
"No, I didn't. Trust me, the last thing I wanted was to fall, man. Me and falling are not good friends."
Sam threw back his head and laughed. The twinge of bitter hysteria froze Blair's heart. What the hell was going on?
"Right, you thought this would be your ticket to glory. Sorry to disappoint. I said I'd win in the end, and I did. Me and Dean won. And yeah, I'm stuck here with you, but Dean's safe and you'll never get to him again. So you can bring out the torture, I won't care."
Ok, that's it. Blair had no idea who the hell Sam thought he was talking to, but it was obviously not him. He had no idea where the hell Sam thought he was, either, and from the hints he dropped Blair was sure he did not want to know. But he had to fix this, somehow. He had to bring Sam back to reality.
Sam looked pale and scared but fine. Blair could not see any wounds, but, then again, he would have to get closer to get a better look and he knew enough about trauma and flashbacks to know that would only make things worse. The look on Sam's face told clearly he was not really there. The fall must have triggered something.
"All right," Blair said, pretending he had everything under control and that he was not scared out of his mind by the turn the events had taken. "All right, let's see how we get you back from wherever you are."
Sam did not react to his words, but Blair had not been expecting any reaction in the first place. He knew he would have to work harder to get one, but he was convinced he would be able to reach Sam in the end.
"Sam, you're gonna have to listen to me," he began. "Listen to me very carefully because what you're seeing now – that's not real."
In the past, Blair had been hesitant to take on the moniker of Guide that some people seemed to insist he was, since apparently it was as good a way as any to refer to what he was doing for Jim. He had finally accepted that he was, indeed, Jim's Guide, when Jim had gone one step further and told him that, in fact, he was a Guide even without Jim, just as much as Jim was a Sentinel even without Sandburg. True, they did their best work together, but Jim reminded Blair that he had always had what he referred to as "Guide tendencies". He'd been a teacher, after all, and he seemed desperate to talk the other members of the Major Crimes department through whatever crisis they were experiencing. He listened to witnesses and coaxed information out of them with a patience and tolerance that showed people just how much he cared.
Sam wasn't Jim. He wasn't even a Sentinel and, anyway, Blair wasn't the one Sam had been programmed to listen to since he was a kid. But Blair was all Sam had right now, and he was determined to bring Sam back from whatever hell his mind had taken him to.
"All right," he began, voice calm and low. "I want you to listen to me, Sam. You know me. I'm Blair Sandburg from Cascade, remember? This is who you're with. This is who you're hearing. Whoever else you might think is here, they're not. It's just you and me and I'm going to bring you back.
"You're in a basement, Sam. It's dark and cold and messy, but that's all. There's no danger here. We're safe. I want you to focus on that. I want you to focus on the basement and on me and ignore whatever else you're seeing or feeling. I want you to come back to me. Think you can do that?"
It took a while, and, by the end of it, Blair sounded slightly hoarse. At one point though, Sam seemed to shake himself out of whatever had fallen over him. He took a deep breath.
"Sandburg? What the hell happened?"
Blair leaned back.
"Man, you have no idea how glad I am you're back with me. Uhh…you are back with me, right?"
Sam frowned in confusion.
"I guess so."
"You feeling alright?" Blair insisted. "Because, wherever you went, it did not look fun."
Sam's face was tight.
"Yeah, you could say that again. I think it was when we fell. It…uhh…reminded me of something."
Blair nodded.
"I gathered as much."
There was a brief moment of silence, then Sam huffed.
"You know, Sandburg, from the little I know of you, I'd have figured you'd be all over this like a dog with a bone. Asking questions, demanding answers."
It wasn't that Blair wasn't curious about the whole thing, but he had become more temperate over the years. He knew enough about PTSD to realize they weren't in the right place to ask Sam to recount anything about his trauma.
"Not really the kind of spot for such a conversation," he told Sam. "Besides, someone else's demons are their business. I've learned that over the years. However, if you ever need to talk – I mean, you have Dean, I know, but if you need to talk to someone more removed from the situation, someone with a little objectivity…"
Sam laughed.
"If I speak about any of this in therapy I get myself a one-way ticket to a padded room."
Blair snorted.
"Yeah, I suspected as much. Actually, I was thinking that you could call me. You have my number. If you ever need to talk, I can listen. No judgments or anything."
Sam hesitated.
"Well, thanks for the offer," he said. "I'll think about it. In the meantime, can you do me a favor?"
Blair nodded quickly.
"Name it."
"Don't tell Dean."
Blair discovered there were limits to how helpful he wanted to be. He raised his hands, shaking his head, despite the dizziness the movement caused him.
"Oh, no way, man. No way. See, despite what Jim might tell you, I do have a sense of self-preservation, and not telling Dean is going to lead to something very, very nasty for me. Sorry, Sam. Some things are just not worth it."
Sam chuckled.
"It was worth a try, I suppose. Hey, isn't there a light switch in this basement?"
Blair had already spotted the light switch when he had run his flashlight over the basement trying to figure out where they were. The only problem was, it was out of his reach.
"Yeah, I saw one over there," he said, pointing with his flashlight. "It could be working, I suppose."
There was a pause, then Sam cleared his throat.
"So…why not check to make sure?"
Blair bit his lips. They had not gotten to the part where he admitted he was out of commission.
"Are you alright?" he asked Sam. "I mean, that was a long fall. Anything broken? Can you move?"
If Sam was in any way surprised by the abrupt change in subject, he did not let it show. He hesitantly checked himself out to see if everything was in working order.
"Yeah, just a couple of bumps and bruises. I think I can move alright."
Blair nodded, pleased with that.
"Good. Why don't you give us some light, then?"
Sam froze. He took out his own flashlight and shone it in Blair's face.
"What's wrong with you?"
Blair shrugged, falling back on his usual downplaying of injuries.
"Oh, it's nothing, really. I just can't move my leg right now."
Sam got up and went to try the light switch. The basement was bathed in light, Blair realized it looked worse than he had thought. The beams that had fallen from the ground floor had blocked the stairs.
"We're not getting out of here without help."
Sam went back to Blair and proceeded to examine his leg. Blair bit his lips, taking a harsh breath.
"You know, Sam, I'm trying really hard not to embarrass myself here crying like a little girl."
"Good news," Sam said. "Leg isn't broken. You've just wrenched your knee pretty bad."
Blair huffed.
"That's the good news? I'm no use to you if I can't move. Look, you should get out of here. Get help. Get to the first house and call Jim."
"Sure," Sam agreed easily. "I'm gonna leave you here helpless and alone with a murderous supernatural dog gunning for you and I'm gonna call your partner to let him know I've left you all on your own with a wrenched knee. Next I'm gonna have about five minutes to write my will before Ellison finds me and kills me."
Blair shook his head tiredly.
"He won't kill you. He'll just get…a little mad."
"Right," Sam drawled. "Look, we'll miss our fifteen minute check up. They'll figure out something's up with us and they'll retrace our steps. It's only a matter of time until they find us."
"So, until then we stay put?" Blair asked.
"Looks like it," Sam replied, sitting back down.
Blair sighed.
"Not very good at staying put, man."
Sam huffed.
"I've noticed. How about you tell me something to keep us both distracted?"
Blair laughed tiredly.
"Right. Give me the hard part. What do you want to know? I can tell you everything about this wedding ritual this tribe in the Amazon rainforest has. I'm telling you man, you haven't seen anything like it. I mean, the Bacchanalias were like kindergarten parties in comparison. You see, the bride arrives dressed in nothing but…"
Sam cleared his throat.
"Actually, that's more Dean's thing, so you can talk to him about it. I'm sure he'll ask you for every detail, pictures included. How about you stick to a safer topic? How did you meet Jim?"
Blair chuckled at that.
"Oh, you should have been there. See, I called him a cave man and he slammed me against the wall in response…"
xxxXXxxx
As soon as they entered the library staff room Jim stopped.
"That's it," he said. "The same smell I felt at the crime scenes. Old books….and maybe something else. Her perfume, I guess."
"Well, there's not much chance that she'd keep the amulet here of all places. But maybe something she keeps here will tell us more about her."
Jim hummed distractedly opening some drawers. He only found Moira's name tag and a map of Cascade. He showed it to Dean.
Dean noticed the framed pictures with the two women at various ages. The red-headed one fit Sam's description of Moira. He took one of the photos that looked to be the most recent and showed it to Jim.
"That the chick you saw at the crime scenes?"
Ellison's unexpected reaction to the picture baffled Dean. He froze, his eyes widening. For a moment, he was afraid Ellison was having one of his usual episodes that happened when he got to focused.
"Hey! Now's not the time."
Jim seemed to shake himself awake. He was still gaping at the picture.
"God, it can't be her!"
Dean frowned.
"You're talking about Moira? You know her from somewhere other than the crime scenes?"
Jim shook his head quickly.
"No. I men yes, that's the woman I saw both at the crime scene and last night. But it's not her I meant."
Dean turned the picture around to inspect it.
"You mean the blonde? You've met her before? During an investigation?"
She did not look half-bad, Dean could not help thinking. He wouldn't have minded some alone time in an interrogation room with her. Although, by the way Ellison looked, a mixture between horrified and repulsed and something else, it was not hard for Dean to realize she was bad news.
"Ellison, who the hell is she and how do you know her?"
"That's Alex Barnes," Jim said flatly. "She's the one who drowned Sandburg."
xxXXXxxx
"I think you'd better give me more, Ellison. I mean, you don't just drop something like that and not offer more details."
As soon as Ellison had identified the woman in the pictures with Moira, he had bolted out the door not turning to see if Dean was following him. He tried calling Sandburg, but he got no answer. Sam's phone was equally silent and Dean himself was starting to worry.
He followed Ellison to the car and they drove towards Agatha's former home. This time, Dean refrained from complaining about Ellison's speed and erratic driving. He was not, however going to allow himself to be kept in the dark any longer.
"So, you're saying this person, this Barnes chick, she's the one who almost killed Sandburg?"
Ellison's jaw clenched.
"Almost is really debatable here."
Dean accepted that.
"Right, otherwise Cerberus wouldn't be after Sandburg now. But look, give me more details. What happened?"
Ellison shook his head.
"Alex…came into town unexpectedly a couple of years back. Blair was still an observer back then. She was…well, she was like me."
Dean glanced at him in surprise.
"She had heightened senses?"
Ellison nodded tightly.
"Yeah, to all intents and purposes, she was a sentinel. Sandburg and I found out the hard way that having another sentinel in my territory makes me an irrational, paranoid dick."
Dean raised his eyebrows. He was familiar with self-deprecation (Sam had often claimed Dean had turned it into an Olympic sport and had been the unchallenged champion for years), but this sounded much worse.
"What exactly happened when she arrived? Come on, man, this might help."
"She was a criminal," Ellison said curtly. "Sandburg did not know that when he met her. Hell, he wouldn't have been able to conceive it. To him, Sentinels are always protectors. They can't go dark side. But that's Sandburg for you. He sees the good in everyone."
Dean hummed non-committally. Sam had tried to see the good in everyone, too, he remembered. He could still see clearly how he had argued about keeping Max Miller alive, or those vamps Gordon Walker had been after, or even Gordon Walker himself. But then Sam had died and Dean had sold his soul to bring him back, and Sam had started to focus less on the good in people and more on the darkness in them. He shook himself out of his thoughts, trying to concentrate on Ellison's story.
"To give Sandburg credit, he tried to tell me about her from the start. I blew him off. I was a mess – later I was to find out it was because of her. I mean – I could feel her, but I didn't know what I could feel. Just that there was a threat nearby. And since Sandburg had started meeting her more and more often, helping her with her senses, well, I could feel that threat whenever he was close by and it confused the hell out of me, because if there had been one thing I would have always thought was safe – that was him."
Ellison shook his head, his eyes on the road.
"It wasn't a good time for us. We had some major blow-outs. I ended up kicking him out of the loft, then when we identified Barnes as a suspect in a case we were working on and he finally managed to tell me about her, I lost it. I told him to get the hell out of my life." He chuckled darkly. "He nearly did, you know. Not by his own volition, but he nearly did."
Dean said nothing. He recognized the guilt in Ellison's voice and could not help thinking about the times he had driven Sam away and how firmly convinced he was that his behavior had finally led to Sam standing in an empty graveyard, ready to take on an eternity of torture, giving Dean that "Please don't be disappointed in me anymore look" that Dean hoped he would never have to see on his brother's face again. No, he knew that kind of guilt well enough to know there was no way of getting rid of it.
"That's rough," he commented.
Ellison cast him a surprised look, then shrugged.
"It was. Maybe not as rough as what happened afterwards, though."
"What happened afterwards?" Dean asked. "I mean, Sandburg insisted pretty strongly that he's alive only because of you."
Jim laughed darkly.
"Sandburg's alive because he's too stubborn to quit. And because he always comes when I call. No matter what's between us. And he'd always follow me to hell and back. I don't know if you can understand that…"
Dean huffed.
"Believe me, Ellison, you're talking to one of the few people who does understand."
Jim gave a curt nod, accepting that.
"Maybe you do. Anyway, she tried to kill Blair to distract me – and maybe to taunt me, she must have understood even if only dimly what Sandburg was to me, from a Sentinel's perspective. Then she fled to Sierra Verde with some stolen nerve gas and after I made sure Sandburg would be all right, I went after her. Of course, Sandburg went after me."
Dean snorted, amused.
"Somehow I expected that. So what happened in uhh…Sierra Verde?"
Jim's face darkened once more.
"Apparently, once you get a male and female sentinel away from their tribes and into neutral territory another instinct comes into place."
Dean frowned.
"You mean…?"
"Sandburg tried to explain it," Jim went on. "He said since Sentinels were so valued in primitive societies it was imperative they passed on their genes. And what surer way to do so than by breeding with another sentinel? In this way, this instinct was also ultimately for the benefit of the tribe. So Sandburg tried to justify my behavior, but I didn't need a justification, I needed a swift kick over the head. I mean, there I was making out with the woman who killed my best friend – who the hell does that?"
Dean wisely kept any comments he had to himself.
"So…" he asked instead. "What happened in the end?"
"Long story," Jim answered. "The cliffnotes version is this: something went wrong, Alex had a sensory overload and is now in a coma, has been so for years. Part of me is sorry, maybe because I've recognized a kindred spirit or a there but for the grace of God go I situation. Another part wants to go there and put a pillow over her face and the only thing that's stopping me is that she won't feel it."
Dean shook his head.
"Boy, and people say I'm messed up. Ok, so, if Barnes is in a coma, she can't be involved in this Cerberus thing. But Moira is and Moira obviously knew Barnes since they were kids and was close to her."
"You're thinking revenge," Jim guessed.
Dean shrugged.
"Hey, take it from someone who knows very, very well, revenge can cause you to do some pretty shady stuff. Just ask Sam. Or better yet don't. he might think you're accusing him of something."
They drove on in silence for a while. Neither Blair nor Sam tried to call back. Dean was getting really worried.
"There's something I don't get, though," he said, to distract himself from thoughts of Sam already being dead, attacked unexpectedly like Agatha had been. "Why?"
"What do you mean why?" Jim asked. "You just said it yourself that revenge is a powerful motivator."
Dean nodded slowly.
"Yes, but from what you told me, Sandburg didn't do anything to Barnes. In fact, she's the one who did something to him."
Jim shifted, irritated.
"What's your point, anyway?"
"Why is Moira after Sandburg and not you? From what you told me, Sandburg was actually trying to work with Barnes."
Jim nodded frowning.
"He was. But…since Alex is where she is right now, objectively, you could say he failed. You could also say things started to go wrong for her when Blair – for lack of a better expression – came back from the dead."
Something still didn't add up as far as Dean was concerned.
"How would Moira know that? I mean, from what you told me, Barnes is no longer in any state to bitch about who put a wrinkle in her plans."
He noticed Jim tense.
"What's on your mind?" he asked.
"She knows," Jim said. "Moira knows – about the sentinel thing, about Blair's role. The dissertation. It has to be. Blair's dissertation, she knows about it."
If anything, this puzzled Dean even more.
"I thought Sandburg didn't finish his dissertation. At least, that's what he let slip."
Jim nodded quickly.
"No, you're right, he didn't. That's another long story. His mother sent a copy of the first chapter to this publisher friend of hers – without Sandburg's permission. It happened to be an unedited draft, which meant my name was all over the place."
Dean whistled.
"That can't have been good."
Jim ran a hand over his face.
"At the time I might have made more about it than I should have. I mean, everyone was suddenly in my face and I was defensive towards a lot of people. Towards Blair too, unfortunately."
Dean nodded, prompting Ellison to go on. Ellison seemed unwilling to talk.
"It was bad for a while. I panicked, Blair panicked, he disavowed his dissertation, said it was all a fraud. You know there's no greater wake up call than having someone fall on their sword for you."
And that, unfortunately was something Dean knew better than he wanted to think about.
"It's all fixed now," Jim added. "More or less. When our heads were cooler we managed to do some damage control. Sandburg and Rainier university have cut ties, though. They always had an iffy relationship. Blair always was too unconventional for them. The dissertation should be history."
"But a librarian at Rainier would know about it," Dean guessed.
Jim nodded.
"It was no secret what happened between Blair and Alex at the fountain. Hell, it was big news. Man comes back to life and all that. Hey, it's quite likely Moira was already checking into Blair when she got the job. Then, if she found out about that first chapter…well, he describes what a Sentinel is in explicit detail."
"Maybe even mentioned you and Barnes?" Dean asked.
But Jim shook his head quickly.
"The actual dissertation didn't mention anyone. I was to be referred to as subject A and Barnes wasn't even in it. Since she's in no state to give her consent there's no way Sandburg could have written about her. But, as I said, someone who knew Barnes would not find it too hard to put two and two together."
"I suppose not," Dean accepted. "It's the way Moira went off the rails that baffles me, though. I mean, ok, Barnes was her childhood friend, they were close, but she's almost acting as if in some way she feels responsible for what happened and is somehow trying to make up for it."
Ellison hit the brakes unexpectedly. Dean nearly slammed his head against the dashboard. He could hear an angry chorus of horns from outside.
"Just what the hell are you trying to do?" Dean hissed. "There a reason why you want us both killed?"
Jim shook his head, slightly shamefaced. He started the car again.
"Sorry. It just hit me though…I mean, I should have seen it from the start. That's why I didn't register her as a threat when I bumped into her even though I was sure there was something about her and that I had seen her at one of the crime scenes."
Dean frowned.
"What, she's one of those…uhh…sentinels?"
But Jim shook his head.
"Not a sentinel. Moira's a guide. That's why she's so hung up about Alex, she could have been her guide, it's probably what drew them together in the first place. That's why she's going after Blair and not me. A guide wouldn't find it easy to go against the instinct that tells them to take care of a sentinel. For her, I'm off limits. Blair isn't."
Dean sometimes missed the simple times. All this was giving him a headache so big, his ears were ringing.
"The first time we worked together Sandburg was saying that a sentinel would have a hard time going against his guide, too. That it was instinctual to keep them safe."
Ellison nodded impatiently.
"Yeah, pretty much. Where are you getting with this?"
"So, how come Barnes didn't have that instinct when it came to Blair?" Dean asked pointedly.
Jim grimaced.
"You know, I think in her own twisted way she did. I mean, she had a gun, she could have shot him in his office. Blair told me later that she seemed to have every intention to do so then just…I don't know. Changed her mind. Maybe she couldn't face killing him outright."
Dean frowned.
"Maybe she thought she was at least giving Blair a chance? If someone saw him in time they could save him?"
Jim shrugged helplessly, scrubbing at his face.
"I don't know what to say. Maybe I'm just giving her more humanity than she actually had. Maybe like this she was trying to get to me. Drowning's a lot more painful way to go than being shot."
And they were having such a cheerful conversation, Dean thought sarcastically.
Suddenly, his attention was drawn to something outside the window. He could have sword he had glimpsed a black shape moving too quickly to be a regular animal. There was a sound that kept interrupting his thoughts. The barking of a dog.
"Please tell me you're hearing that too," he told Ellison.
Ellison frowned in confusion.
"Hear what?" he asked. "All I'm getting is cars from the nearby highway."
They had taken a small back road that Ellison claimed would get them quicker to the area Sam and Blair were supposed to be in. Dean had agreed wholeheartedly to the suggestion, but now he was beginning to fear they had made a mistake.
"You know, I was afraid you'd say that. You don't hear the dog? At all?"
Ellison was looking at Dean as if he doubted Dean's sanity. Well, more than usual.
"No dog," he said. "Can you really hear a dog?"
Dean gave him a pointed look. He hoped the dog would not attack with Ellison there – it did not attack any of the other victims when they were with other people. Then he saw the black shape right in front of them.
"Look out," he shouted to Ellison and grabbed the wheel, swerving.
Ellison swore, taken by surprise by Dean's gesture. Then something heavy slammed against the side of the truck and he lost control even further. The truck was run off the road heading towards a tree.
Before they collided Dean discovered he was somewhat grateful. If Cerberus was after him, then he was leaving Sam alone for the moment. It was the last thought he had before his world exploded around him in a shower of glass.
Erm…see you next week? I do promise to get them out of the mess they are in soon, and maybe I'll also manage to reunite them as well. We'll see…
Notes and extra info:
-For those who haven't seen The Sentinel what happened with Alex Barnes and the guys is canon, but the fact that Moira is her guide is, of course, my invention. One of the things about the episodes with Alex that bothered me was that we saw Alex walk into Blair's office and point a gun at him and the next scene is Jim and the rest of the police arriving at the university to find Blair drowned in the fountain. Now, apart from the obvious question: how did Alex get Blair there? Because even with a gun pointed at him, Blair was never the type to just allow himself to be killed without a fight. But the more pressing question is why would Alex choose to drown him in the first place? I mean, she could have shot him, it would have been faster and way more certain. Of course, this could just be a convenient oversight from the writers of the show, as I don't think they actually meant to kill Blair off, but I started thinking: what if Alex couldn't pull the trigger?
-I'm sure you've noticed by now, but I really love it when the Winchesters see bits of themselves in other characters. I can't get enough of it.
-Fun fact only tangentially related to the fic: I just finished watching Rings of Power and made the surprising discovery that the song at the end of episode 8 (The Ring poem) is sung by Fiona Apple who is half-sister to Garret Maggart who played Blair Sandburg in The Sentinel. Small world…
