Section 21:
Blair, half expecting her to tell him all about Jim's senses, half expecting her to tell him nothing that made any sense at all, waited for her to answer. Does she have a link with Jim that lets her into his mind, into his psyche, into places that I can't go, not without dragging it out of Jim? Am I jealous of this? Of her? She pushed herself up to a sitting position and scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"I'm not sure of anything, Blair. I can't explain what I saw, I can only tell you what I saw. Only Jim can interpret those images. I can tell you one thing though, this kind of thing has never happened to me before. I usually only have snatches of visions, no sound, no explanations, only emotions. With Jim, I felt, really felt what was going through his mind during the instances I saw. I could hear, see, touch, smell, even taste what was going on around me. It was amazing, Blair. Jim is definitely more than the average person. That's about the only thing that I can tell you. Hmm..."" She leaned back against the wall again.
"What's wrong? Feeling bad again?" Blair took the washcloth off of her head to rinse it out in cool water again.
"I always get these huge migraines after a particularly intense flash, but God, please take me now. I think I'm going to have an aneurysm or something. Blair, give me your hand." She placed his hand on her forehead. He could almost swear to feeling the pounding under the skin.
She sighed lightly. "You make it better, Blair. You must come from a long line of healers. I see that in you. I hope you won't mind me borrowing your bed for a little while longer. I think that I'll feel better after a nap. Thanks for everything Blair." She leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. She returned to her semi-reclining position and started to drift off. Her eyes opened again, slightly. "Oh, and tell Jim that that black cat of his keeps following him around because he's not finished with whatever's he's supposed to do. I'll tell him more about the coffee shop when I wake up. Tell him not to worry, things will work out…"
Section 22:
Not to worry, not to worry. How the hell could she say that? Simon and the Chief will be on me about this case if I don't come up with something soon. Jim overheard part of Max's conversation with Blair and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch. Blair slowly walked out of his bedroom and quietly closed the doors behind him.
"Did you hear what she said, Jim?…Of course you did. Anyway, you should have something soon." Blair sighed and sat down at the table.
"I knew it as soon as I saw her, Sandburg, that she was going to be an intense one. If we only knew what we were getting into."
"Jim, Jim. When do we ever get an easy one? Did you catch what she said about the jaguar, man? That was wild. She really picked up a lot about you, didn't she?"
"Yeah, yeah, she knew everything. What did you tell her about me?" Jim's cynical side was beginning to emerge.
"C'mon, Jim. I didn't coach her, if that's what you mean. I only told her that you were my roommate and you weren't too fond of noise in the middle of the night. I didn't tell her anything about more about you, especially when she told me what she saw today at the coffee shop."
"She already told you about what she saw?" Jim was incredulous. Usually, Blair was always bursting to tell him everything he knew, especially something as weird as this whole situation was. "All right, spill it, Chief. The Captain's not going to believe this, but what the hell? We already have him believing that whole Sentinel thing, what's another psychic phenomenon to the seasoned occult follower like Simon?"
"I know Simon's not going to jump into this, but it's one of the only leads that we have, isn't it? I know you found some trace evidence at the scene, but she's an eye-witness. You can't beat that."
"That's just it, Sandburg. She's not an eye-witness. She's a mind-witness, if that's what you're going to tell me she told you. How do we know that she doesn't think of possible scenarios after she hears about most of the situation on the news?" Jim sat down hard on the couch, seething with frustration.
"Do you really believe that she made of this stuff up? Even after what you went through before?"
"There are many people who are good at reading others. Maybe I was just reliving those memories on pure suggestion. Those people who work on the Psychic Hotlines do that kind of thing, for example. I guess I'll make up my mind when she wakes up." Jim could almost hear Blair beginning to rebut his argument. Jim held up his hand before Blair uttered a word.
"Later, Chief. I need to get out of here for a while and do some legwork on the case. I'll be in Forensics. I want to know if Claire and her bunch have found anything else. Say goodbye to Sleeping Beauty for me." Blair watched as Jim slammed the front door behind him.
Section 23:
Blair knew that Jim was reaching the boundary between his suspension of disbelief threshold and his threshold of reason. He knew Jim well enough to know when to stop pushing him to come around. Better to just let Jim think about things for a while and try again later. He pulled out some papers that he should have graded last week and half-heartedly began going through them. Luckily, it was a short answer exam and did not require much interpretation or attention. He'd get to these tests for a while and then he'd check on Max. Jim had to come back sometime and he knew that the Forensics team wasn't going to find anything more. If Jim couldn't find anything, they certainly weren't going to. His thoughts drifted to Jim's behavior earlier in the evening. He had acted as if he resented Max's being here. He fervently hoped Jim hadn't developed a kind of strange reaction to Max's presence like he had when Alex had come onto the scene. He mentally shivered at that thought. He would have to keep a close eye on Jim for the near future, at least. At least until this case was over and they could all go back to their regularly-scheduled lives.
Several hours passed with no phone call from Jim and no sign of consciousness from Max. His exams were all starting to run together and he rubbed his eyes in an effort to refocus them. Blair needed to take a break for his eyes' sake and for the sake of the students who deserved a fair shot at failing the exam. He laughed to himself. Now I know that I need a break. Next thing, I'll be talking to myself.
He got up and walked slowly over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He screwed off the top and quickly drank the first third before it could overflow onto the floor. Ah, that was better. The rest of the exams would have to wait until morning. He was bushed and could not even think about looking at another exam. He looked blearily at his watch and noticed that it said 12:30 a.m.! Where the hell was Jim anyway? He's been gone for hours! He decided to check on Max and then give Jim a few more minutes to come in. If he didn't come back in fifteen minutes, he would call Jim's cell phone and see what his plans were for the night.
Blair crept over to his bedroom door and slowly opened it. A beam of light from the kitchen fell on her head as she lay sleeping in his bed. A man could get used to that. He stepped closer to hear if she was breathing okay and noticed that she was crying in her sleep. He leaned over and shook her awake.
"Max, Max. Wake up, you're having a bad dream."
Section 24:
Someone was calling my name and it ripped me out of my strange dream. I opened my eyes and saw Blair's looking back at me, full of concern. "Mmmm?"
"Max, it's me, Blair. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, hmm.. I'm fine." I was about to fall back to sleep when some scenes from my dream poked out into my conscious mind. I rolled over and watched as Blair stood up from sitting on the edge of the bed and began walking towards the door. "Blair?"
"Yes, Max?" He stopped and turned to face me. I could just barely make out his features in the dark.
"Where's Jim?"
"I'm not sure, why?"
"I'm not sure either. Can you help me up?"
"Yeah, here." He pulled my hand until I was in a sitting position and helped me swing my legs over the bed and onto the floor. "What's wrong? Is something wrong with Jim?"
"I don't remember. Something's jabbing at me though. Something important….Ugh!" We shuffled over to the couch. The pain in my head was now just below a dull roar.
"What?"
"I can't remember. I know it's important, but dammit! I can't remember!"
"Okay. We can do this. Now, Max?"
"What?"
"I want you to sit here on the couch and close your eyes. Do you trust me?"
"Of course." It slipped out before I could even think about answering that question. I barely knew him. "What do you need me to do?"
"When Jim gets into this situation and needs to remember something maybe he didn't know he knew, I help him relax and review through a process I call assisted recall. It's sort of like a very light trance. It relaxes you enough so you are able to access memories that you may not normally have access to. I learned it from a shaman in a region near Potosi, Bolivia a couple of years ago. It's very safe and I've done it many times. I can't make you do anything that you don't want to. We can stop anytime you feel uncomfortable or we don't have to do it at all. It's up to you." I could detect a bit of concern or desperation in his voice, so I conceded. I knew it had to do something with Jim and Blair seemed to be fiercely protective of his friend.
"Okay, Blair. Let's try it. I guess I don't really have anything to lose, right?"
"Okay. You let me know if you feel weird or anything."
"How do you define 'weird'?"
"Trust me. If anything seems weird to you, you'll know."
"Let's do it."
Section 25:
Jim had been getting strange sensations all evening and he just let them lead him around the city. He hadn't had any particular plans after he left Forensics. He probably should have called Blair to let him know what was going on, but he wanted to let Blair know that he was still pissed. Forensics had told him that they still couldn't identify the substance found on the fibers or the hair found at the crime scene. The Forensics team had decided that the material on the fibers was probably custom-made and would have to be identified molecule by molecule. Of course he knew to whom the hair belonged, but he wasn't ready to give her up yet. That wouldn't get him any closer to the real suspects. However, why did he discount her so fast as part of this whole thing? Blair usually had good instincts, but not when it came to women. He usually bats zero in that department. Jim grabbed himself some late dinner from his favorite burger joint and drove around a bit more, trying to find some insight into the motive in this case. He let his mind wander as he drove, going back and forward, not really spending any length of time on any particular subject. He tried to remember what it was like to have Jack Pendergrast as a partner. Jack was a traditionalist, following the regulation book like it was the Bible. Simon paired them up in an effort to give Jim some direction and stability. When Jack disappeared, it took all of Jim's willpower not to drop everything and look for him. He knew, knew, that Jack wasn't dirty. He couldn't have been, even when they found Jack's car with all that money in the trunk. But, Jack had been dirty. Jack tried to keep the ransom money for himself, something to retire on. That moment showed Jim that he could only depend on himself; everyone else could only let him down. Things followed like that until Blair changed his mind…
Then it hit him. Something wasn't right with the witness. How did that kid just happen to be in the back at the time of the shooting? He missed everything? Okay, it was possible that he happened to be in the back during the whole incident. How come he didn't call the cops when he first heard the commotion? Too scared? He thought he'd seen a phone jack in the back room. Why didn't the gunmen check the back room for stowaways? That sure was lucky for the kid. What was his name? Daniel Waters. There was something about him that was a little too practiced, a little too convenient. He would have to talk to him again in the morning.
His mind wandered again. His army training had prickled the back of his mind during all of this. Maybe Blair's little obfuscation about the fibers wasn't too far off. Something about it was familiar somehow. He still couldn't make any hard connections. Maybe something would come to him when he wasn't thinking about it. He turned right and proceeded towards Center Street and home. The street was practically empty as he turned onto Prospect Drive. He glanced at his dashboard clock and saw that it was practically midnight. He slowed down to a stop at a red light and continued to think.
The light blinked to green and he began to depress the clutch and the gas when he thought he heard the cocking of a gun. That small snick gave him only the slightest warning before the window of his truck shattered against him. Then, only pain and blackness.
Section 26:
Blair sat Max in front of him on the couch as he sat perched on the edge of the coffee table. Jim would have a fit if he knew I was sitting on the coffee table. Focus, focus.
"Max?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you comfortable?"
"I'm fine. What do I do now?"
"Okay. Take my hands. Just let them lay on mine, don't squeeze them. Focus on your breathing. Make sure that you draw in through your nose really slowly and blow out equally slowly through your mouth. Close your eyes and try not to think about anything in particular. I want to listen to the sound of my voice. Focus only on that and your breathing. Nothing else matters."
Section 27:
I laid my hands in Blair's and closed my eyes. I saw only the blackness on the inside of my eyelids and focused on my breathing. I let go of everything and listened for Blair's next instructions.
"Relax your muscles from your feet all the way up to your head. Let the tension and stress flow out of you and into the couch like water. Visualize that process in your head. Let the water flow around you and through you. As I count back from ten, you become more and more relaxed. Ten…nine…eight…seven…six… five…four…three…two…one.
You are standing in the middle of a beautiful warm lake. There is a waterfall on your right and the bank of the lake is on your left. You can hear the sounds of the water as it cascades down the mountainside and into the lake around you. You are calm and relaxed, warm and content. You are completely open to everything your senses can tell you. You are open to anything that is trying to reach out to you. You stay in the lake for a few more moments and inhale the sweet smell of the forest. You slowly wade towards the bank. You step out and dry off with a warm fluffy towel. You sit on a blanket on the green, green grass and wait, continuing your deep breathing process. The sunlight is warm on your head and you feel no tension or fear…..Max? Can you hear me?"
I felt lighter and freer than I ever had in my whole life. The burden of hiding who I was and trying to please others fell from my shoulders and was left to sink to the bottom of the lake. I was sitting quietly on the shore, comfortable in my own skin. I didn't want to answer Blair because I didn't want to break this magical spell he had created for me.
"Blair…I can hear you."
"Are you ready to get up and take a walk?"
"Yes, that would be okay."
"Okay. I want you to slowly rise from your sitting position and walk towards the opening in the trees. In the field, you can see Jim standing there. He is trying to tell you something. Can you hear him?"
"Yes." I couldn't make out Jim's form completely at first, but I could hear his voice very clearly. "He is telling me that his people are dead. They all died and he stayed here. He is lost and looks for guidance. He asks for help. He asks for your help, Blair." Jim looked very clearly at me as I walked closer and closer to him, but still too far away to touch him. "He's leaving now. Something is troubling him and he wants to find some answers." Jim turned and looked at the wreckage of a helicopter and then started to walk into the forest. "I see a helicopter crashed into the ground and many graves." Then the scene shimmered a bit and I got the impression that I was forward in time from the last scene. I was lakeside, next to Jim and Simon, both younger than I remembered them. The feeling was of sadness and anger from Jim about a very respected person. "I see a car being pulled form the lake. There's a woman leaving him empty and desolate. I see two other men who look like Jim following him into the brush. But you're still here. You stay.
I feel something in my hand. There are words written on a scrap of rough paper that say 'Centremar.' Jim keeps looking at me as he leaves. I'm crumpling the piece of paper and it drops to the ground. It turns red as it falls. The paper disappears into the ground. Jim's not here anymore either, but he's close." I pause, waiting for further instructions.
"Good, good. Does anyone else have anything to say to you? Remember, nothing's here that can hurt you. You are not afraid."
"Another man is here. I don't recognize him. He stands in tribal garb and looks at Jim as he leaves. Jim has a deep respect for this man, like a father. This man looks at me and asks me to hurry. He does not speak, but I hear him. Jim is lost. A large black panther walks through the clearing but does not see me. It disappears into the forest after the tribal man. I am alone again."
"All right. I want you to go back to the place by the lake and sit down. It's time to come home now. Continue your breathing. As I count backwards from ten, you will approach closer and closer to home. When I reach one, you will awake fully refreshed and fully aware of your experiences.
Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three...two…one." As I hear his words, the beautiful glen I had enjoyed became dimmer and dimmer in my mind's eye. I opened my eyes and sat back on the couch.
"Wow. That was amazing, Blair. Where did you say you learned to do that?"
"In Bolivia. Do you remember what happened?"
"Every second. I think that we should find Jim." I stood up and walked out towards the balcony doors. "I'm not sure why, but I get the distinct impression that we're supposed to find Jim now. "
"I think you're right." Blair picked up the telephone and dialed the police station.
Section 28:
Jim awoke to pain and dizziness. Darkness surrounded him and sharp lashes of pain sent white-hot streaks through his field of vision. The world slowed its violent spinning just long enough for him to gain his bearings. He lay stretched out over the seat of his truck, glass shards covering him and the seat. He stared at the truck's radio dials and wished that he could control his pain by just reaching out to those dials. Warm trickling dripped past his eyes and over the seat on onto the floor. Jim extended his hearing as best he could over his struggle to manage the pain and keep conscious. He could hear nothing more than normal street sounds. I need to call Blair. That thought played like a broken record as his mind tried to make sense of what happened. He felt the wind tickle his skin and he smelled the metallic odor of his own blood… and gunpowder. His ears began to buzz very loudly and he lost all of his wavering focus. The darkness was too hard to resist…
Section 29:
"No, Sandburg. Jim isn't here. Isn't he with you?" Simon grumbled on the phone. "It's one o'clock in the damn morning. Why the hell would you call me at this hour?"
"Uh, Simon, sorry. I already called the station and they said he left hours ago. I just think something's happened to Jim, that's all."
"That's all? That's all? And what made you come up with this conclusion, huh? Maybe he just decided not to check in with you. You're not his mother and he is a big boy, Sandburg." Simon's voice was now raised to a bellow.
"I know, Simon. Sorry for bothering you. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Wait, Sandburg. Okay, okay. I know you two have this Sentinel thing. If you think he's in trouble, then he probably is. Let me call the station and put out an APB."
"Thanks, Simon. I'm going out to see if I can find him. I'll check in with you in a bit."
"Sandburg, be careful. I don't want the both of you missing now."
Blair hung up the phone and sat back on the couch. Max came back into the living room from pulling on a sweatshirt. "Anything?"
"No." He stood up and walked towards the door. "I'm going to look for him."
"I'm coming with you."
Blair was too tired and now very worried to argue. He hoped that all of this was nothing and he would find Jim eating a Wonderburger at the local restaurant. He hoped but somehow he knew he wouldn't.
Section 30:
I climbed into the front seat of Blair's car and had to kick some papers and junk on the floor to make room for my feet.
"Sorry, I don't usually have ride-alongs. Jim won't even get near my car, let alone ride in it."
"It's okay, Blair. You know what they say about anthropologists and organization…"
"No, what do they say?"
"Stop it, Blair." I playfully squeezed his arm.
A flash slammed into me.
"I want you out, Sandburg. Do you hear me? I don't want you here anymore. It's too crowded."
"What happened to my stuff, Jim?"
"I put it in the basement. You can pick it up later."
"If that's what you want, Jim."
"That's what I want."
Jim turned his back on Blair and walked out onto the balcony.
I shook my head to dispel the scene. I wasn't expecting anything like that. The emotions linked to that short conversation ran so deep that I felt as if I was the one who Jim had frozen out. Blair felt like he betrayed Jim. Jim had kicked Blair out. I had a strange feeling that it had something to do with that blonde woman I had seen before, but the connection was not clear. The explanation for that would have to wait.
"What? Anything about Jim?"
"No. Sorry." I looked out the window and felt the breeze blow on my face from the window I had opened slightly. The night looked so peaceful and quiet. Deceptively so.
I felt a little something niggling me from my right side.
"Turn right here, Blair."
"Why?"
"Can't explain. Just do it." I let my mind wander as I looked out of the window. Although the situation was very serious, I couldn't help but begin to drift into sleep. As my eyes were beginning to close, I noticed a street sign blowing in the slight breeze. It was partially covered by a branch and it read "Centre Mar". The branch moved away and the full sign read, "Centre Market."
"Blair, stop!"
"Centre Market! The note in my dream was for Centre Market! Jim's close."
"What now?"
I turned to Blair and looked into eyes now abundant with worry. "I don't know, Blair. But he's close, I know it."
Section 31:
Pain rewarded him as he tried to open his eyes again. The lights seemed to burn holes into his retinas as he struggled to focus on something, anything to tell him what was going on. Memory slowly leaked back into his brain and he remembered what had happened. He had heard a gun being cocked as he dove for cover and the slow squeal of his brakes at his automatic reflex to stop his vehicle. A sharp pain in his head and the warm dripping liquid that was running down his head and onto the car seat on which he now lay. The metallic odor of blood mixed with sweat and adrenaline. The jagged sound of the glass shattering towards his left and the subsequent rain of small shards of glass that were now embedded into his skin. His thoughts seemed sluggishly slow and hard to manage and waves of dizziness threatened to send him back into the darkness. He fought against the urge to close his eyes and tried to look around. His vantage point from the seat did not offer to many opportunities to determine his position. He could see the sky and the stars and the roof of the truck. He could feel the breeze blowing on his skin from the broken window. He struggled to maintain a normal breathing pattern; he didn't want to pass out again. He tried to extend his senses outside the truck but he found that his head was buzzing too loud for him to concentrate that much. He just hoped to hell that Blair had noticed that he was missing and was somehow on his way.
He remembered being relieved that he was close to home, so at least he had that. Where the hell was Blair? He could keep conscious no longer and gave way to the buzzing sound, as it became the only thing he heard.
He struggled to find the air, he couldn't breathe. He sputtered and opened his eyes to the sudden onslaught of sights and sounds he knew he shouldn't be hearing. Foreign and familiar at the same time. He flung his arms around in an attempt to stop that infernal buzzing sound and get whatever was preventing him from breathing off his face, dammit.
"Jim, calm down. You're at the hospital. You've been shot. Let them take a look at you." He heard Blair's voice rushing by him like a stream. If he could only catch it, he might be able to get to the surface and breathe. He followed the waves of pain that surrounding his conscious mind in an attempt to find Blair again. He blinked his eyes open again and forced himself to stay awake. He pushed off the oxygen mask and tried to sit up.
"Jim. It's okay. You're going to be okay now." Blair's voice was ethereal almost. Had I died or something? What the hell happened? He thought that he heard Blair's heartbeat playing a very staccato tune. At least Blair was alive…or he was dead like me.
Section 32:
The doctor had said that it was a scalp laceration and they always looked worse than they were. The doctor actually had said that it they usually bleed like a stuck pig, but Blair really didn't care for that analogy. Apparently, a bullet had grazed Jim's scalp close enough to cause a concussion and some significant blood loss. That would explain why Jim seemed so out of it. Jim needed twenty stitches, oxygen, and IV fluids to help him regain some of his blood volume. The doctor said if Jim's blood cell count didn't increase soon, he would need a transfusion. If we hadn't found him…don't think about that now. Jim's going to be fine. The next order of business was to get with Simon and figure out what happened and why.
Simon was pacing in the waiting room as Blair left Jim's bedside. "Well?"
"He'll be fine, Simon. The bullet grazed his skull. He has some blood loss and a concussion. They're going to keep him a few days to get his blood volume back up and to make sure there aren't any lasting neurological problems."
"Great. Now who did this?" Simon's intensity seemed to permeate the room. He actually made Blair a little nervous.
"That seems to be the question of the hour." Blair looked down at his shoes, hoping Simon wouldn't grill him anymore. No such luck.
"Here's another question for you. How the hell did you find him?"
"Uh…"
"No, don't tell me. It's one of those Sentinel things, right?"
"Sort of."
"Say no more. I don't think… No, make that I know that I don't want to know." He took a cigar out of his top pocket and began rolling it between his fingers. "I need a smoke. I'll be back in a few minutes. In the meantime, you get back to Jim and keep me posted. The Chief'll want an update on Jim's condition. I'll call Rafe, Brown, and Connor and let them know what's going on. We'll get to the bottom of this." He laid his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Don't worry."
"Thanks, Simon. I'm not worried." Simon strode out of the Emergency room doors and Blair stared out after him. Why did he have the strangest feeling that this was not some random act of violence?…Because it never was with him and Jim.
He found Max asleep on a bank of chairs closer to the nurses' station. He lightly stroked her hair and pulled his jacket over her shoulders. She looks so innocent, so beautiful….C'mon, man. Snap out of it. Now's not the time for the Dating Game.
Max had found Jim's truck askew in the middle of the intersection just in front of Centre Market. His heart had leapt into his throat when he saw the driver's side window smashed. He had run to the truck, praying that Jim wasn't in it. When he saw Jim's form on the seat covered in blood, Blair just about had a heart attack right there. He had thought, 'This is it. This is what happens to your Sentinel when you don't watch his back. You get him killed'. Max had opened up the passenger side door and crawled in the cab with Jim. She felt for a pulse and looked up and nodded when she found one. Thank God. Thank God. Blair repeated it as a mantra until he could come back to reality. Blair flipped open his cell phone and called the Cascade EMT, now on speed-dial. Jim had come to in brief moments and called for him, but faded before Blair could let him know that he was there. The EMT's did not seem overly concerned about Jim's condition and that helped to ease him a bit. He sat with Jim in the ambulance and Max had followed in his car.
He sat next to Jim after the nurses got him settled onto a regular floor and it was now approaching 6:00 a.m. He yawned and stretched. He didn't have the heart to wake Max up again, now snoring lightly on one of those hard plastic chairs she had found in the nearby waiting room. Her arms were crossed and her head had flopped down so her chin was touching her chest. He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders for a few minutes and then refocused on Jim. His color seemed a little better than it was when they brought him in. He was still deathly pale and that, in itself, probably scared Blair the most. He hated seeing Jim like that, vulnerable. A nurse came in every so often to check his IV and take his blood pressure, but Jim did not stir. Blair waited patiently for Jim to come back.
Section 33:
I slipped down in my chair and almost fell off as I awoke suddenly. It took a moment for me to realize where I was, but when I saw Blair next to Jim, I remembered. I sat back on my chair, trying not to disturb Blair who seemed to be praying or meditating. My headache seemed to be gone for now and I sighed gently. Blair's eyes shot open and glanced in my direction.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. How's he doing?"
"It's okay. He's sleeping now. The nurses said to expect him to wake up in a couple of hours. They'll need to run an MRI to make sure that the swelling in his brain has gone down."
"Oh." Was that the most intelligent thing I could come up with? God, I sound like such a complete moron. I stood up and walked over to Blair. I took his hand. "Blair, I'm so sorry that any of this happened. I know that Jim'll be okay." Fabulous. Now let the lame cliché games begin.
"He'll be fine. We've been in worse situations than this before. Jim always said that I attracted trouble like a magnet." Blair turned to look at Jim. "I guess it was his turn this time." Blair was quiet again.
"Blair, let me get you a cup of coffee. I'll check with the nurse and see if she knows when the doctor will be coming. You'll feel better after you talk with the doctor." I spoke as I slowly backed out of the room. Blair responded with a nod and went back to his silent vigil.
Ugh. I am such an idiot. Babbling on about the doctor. He just wanted to be alone with his friend. I could use some coffee myself. I saw the tall dark-skinned man striding down the hall with such purpose that I knew that he was the Captain who Blair kept talking about. I thought that I remembered seeing him on the news the day of the shooting at the coffee shop. God, that seems so long ago now. I stepped out of his way and tried to find the cafeteria.
My head felt as if it were not quite connected to me anymore, like I had just woken up from one of those Nyquil-induced comas. I walked slowly down the white hall as people passed by me, all enclosed in their own little worlds. What am I supposed to do now?
Section 34:
He knew he's had hangovers before, but God, why the hell did he have a jackhammer going off inside his head? He started to stir when he realized that he did not smell scrambled eggs and coffee coming from downstairs, but the sterile, aseptic smell he knew was uniquely Cascade General Hospital.
"What happened this time, Chief?" Jim whispered, surprised by the scratchiness of his voice. He knew that Blair was there even when he hadn't even opened his eyes. He could hear the frantic rhythm of Blair's heart valves as they opened and closed a little too quickly.
"You were shot."
Those words caught his attention as he struggled to find the energy to open his eyes. He opened his eyes only a slight bit, relieved to see that the lights had been dimmed and then opened his eyes all the way.
"Good to see you're awake, Jim. Man, you had me a bit worried there for a while."
"Sure, Sandburg. They should just reserve that chair for you like a parking space, you spend so much time in it. But I always wake up, don't I?"
"There's always a first time… I'm glad you're awake anyway. The doctors have to run a few more tests to see if the swelling has gone down in your brain."
"My brain? I thought you said that I got shot?"
"You did, Jim. In the head."
"What?" He said a little too loudly, causing a chain reaction of reverberations to go off in his head. He quieted his voice and continued. "You've got to be kidding. You don't usually wake up from that."
"You were grazed. It caused a serious concussion and some blood loss. It was touch and go with you for a bit. They gave you a transfusion and a lot of fluids. You probably have one hell of a headache. You don't remember anything?"
"Any other medical information you want to tell me, Doctor? No, I don't remember much. Only waking up for a minute in the truck and then here."
"C'mon, Jim. I'm not joking. It was bad. If we hadn't found you…" Blair never was able to finish that sentence. "Simon already told the others and they're starting an investigation. A preliminary report points to a professional sniper. They found custom-made bullets in the headrest of your truck. They're trying to run a trace on them now. Simon said he'd let us know if anything else turns up."
"Great. Was anyone else hurt?"
"No, just you." Blair stood up and began to pace around the room. Jim tried to sit up, but he found that his vision began to flicker and threatened to black out. "Whoa, Jim." Blair rushed to his side and gently pushed him back down on the bed. "No heroic stuff. You could've been killed. You need your rest."
"Okay, okay." Truth was he really didn't feel like fighting Blair on this. His head was killing him and if it weren't for dialing down the pain some, he was sure that he would've been screaming for pain medication. He felt dizzy and somewhat disconnected and the buzzing sound he had heard before was still in the back of his head. He just noticed that Blair had stopped talking to him. His illustrious Guide was sound asleep in the chair, slumped in a rather uncomfortable-looking position. All of the events of the past day must have finally surmounted the almost infinite amount of energy the young man seemed to have. Jim sighed, leaned back into his pillow and wished that he could have prevented all of this. If not for this roaring headache he sported, but for all of the anguish he continually caused his best friend. He looked towards the door as a flash of movement caught his eye. It was a reflection in the glass of the open door to his hospital room. He saw that girl, Max, and a doctor seeming having an animated conversation about…
"So when do you think that Mr. Ellison will be able to go home?"
"We should know more after we run a few more tests. Probably in a few hours we'll have a better idea." Jim recognized that line as an evasion designed to let the asker think he received an answer, but without actually saying anything. Doctors and politicians must go to the same school of rhetoric. He briefly scanned other conversations running in the hallway and in some of the rooms, mentally stretching his muscles a bit. Okay, nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he could tell.
He stopped listening to the conversations in the hallway as a nurse came in to take his vitals and change his I.V. bag. He just realized that the intermittent beeping from the I.V. stand hadn't bothered him or Blair. It must have been beeping for at least a few minutes. He dismissed it as a by-product of exhaustion, pain, and distraction. The beeping stopped and he fell back to sleep.
"Mr. Ellison. Mr. Ellison?" He awoke again to a persistent voice.
"Hmm?" He tried to rouse himself, but found his eyelids were made of concrete.
"Can you open your eyes, Mr. Ellison?" Someone was opening his eyelids for him and shining a shocking bright light into his eyes.
"Ahh!" He blinked rapidly and swept the hand connected to the bright light away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Mr. Ellison, I'm Dr. Drake. I'm your neurologist. I was just checking your pupil reactions. Sorry for the rude awakening, but I wanted to make sure that your reactions are what they should be. I understand from your history that this is not the first time you have suffered a head injury, let alone been shot. Multiple head injuries makes your recovery a little more dicey." Jim looked carefully at the man standing above him, talking to him like he was a child. The man's sandy blonde hair and lightly complected skin gave him the appearance of being very young. His stethoscope swung slightly as the doctor leaned in to feel the stitches in Jim's scalp.
"Hey!" Jim exclaimed and brushed the doctor's hands away again.
"I need to make sure that your laceration is healing well and there are no signs of complications." Dr. Drake slowly reached over to the left side of Jim's head again, watching for Jim's reaction.
Blair stood up. "Jim, let the doctor do his thing, man. The sooner they complete the examination, the sooner we'll know when you can get out of here." Jim nodded and let the doctor continue his neurologic exam.
"Mr. Ellison, I want you to follow my finger with your eyes only. Do not move your head." Dr. Drake told Jim in a voice that Jim associated only with mothers scolding their children and doctors talking to patients. Jim did as he was told at Blair's insistence. He didn't have to like it.
"Good. Good. Now I want you to push back against my hand as hard as you can. First your left hand." The doctor put his palm against Jim's and pushed. Jim pushed back and practically knocked the doctor off-balance. "Good, now the right hand." Jim pushed back, but the doctor was able to remain standing with no additional effort. The doctor scribbled something in Jim's chart. Jim heard the scratching of the pen on the paper and the buzzing in his ears increased to almost an unbearable level. He shook his head in an effort to dispel the sound, but he showed no other outward signs of his discomfort as the doctor was asking him to do something else. He looked to Blair for a repeat of the doctor's instructions.
Blair seemed to understand his cue. "Just push with your feet, the same as with your hands." Jim nodded and did as he was told. The buzzing seemed to subside after a few minutes. The doctor ran him through a lot of other annoying tests like asking him to distinguish between a sharp and dull instrument placed on various parts of his body. Little did the doctor know, he could tell exactly what the size of the instrument he was using, the type of material it was made of and the change in the doctor's pupil dilation when he refocused on another tool. The visual tests told the doctor that Jim had perfect vision and Jim even had to fudge his answers not to betray his abilities. The hearing tests were harder to take. The doctor struck a tuning fork too close to Jim's already sensitive ears and the buzzing made the pain too hard to dismiss. Blair noticed Jim's discomfort before the doctor did, but could do nothing. Jim pushed the doctor's hands away from his head and turned away from the sound.
"Mr. Ellison?"
"Just call me Jim already."
"Does that cause you pain?"
"It's too loud."
"Is there anything else?"
"I can hear a buzzing sound. It gets louder when I hear loud noises and then subsides after awhile."
"Hmm… How long have you noticed this sound?"
"Ever since I woke up here. It's going away now. It's okay."
"The sound may be a remnant of the head trauma, kind of like when your ears ring for a few days after attending a very loud concert. But, let me know how it is the next time I come back, okay?"
Jim nodded and looked at Blair. Blair's face betrayed his concern, but he did not say anything.
The doctor then scribbled something more on the chart and then asked Jim to show him various facial expressions to explore the facial nerve function, the doctor explained. He performed several more tests before he finally left Jim alone.
"Mr. El.., Jim, I've finished for now. I'll let you get a little rest before they take you for your MRI in a bit. See you later."
"Thanks, Doctor." Jim said wearily, although he didn't really mean it.
Section 35:
I waited outside Jim's room and waited for the doctor to finish his evaluation. The doctor brushed by me on his way out and left me with a little snippet of his life. I flashed on a gruesome scene with the doctor running over to another group of doctors working on small boy who must have been involved in a serious accident. His legs were crushed and the doctor knew that the boy would never walk again.
"That's my son! Call the Chief Neurosurgeon. Set up an emergency OR! I'm scrubbing in!"
"You're doing nothing of the sort, Doctor. We'll update you as soon as the operation's over." The gurney carrying his son and the team of doctors and nurses pushed by him on their way to the emergency elevator. He had never felt so helpless in his whole life.
I shook my head and looked up after the doctor who was striding down the hall and then disappeared around a corner. I walked into the hospital room carrying my coffees and looked around. Jim's IV bag continued to pump him full of fluids and Blair looked as if he was about to fall over from exhaustion.
"Max. Hey, how're you?"
"I'm fine, Blair. Here." I handed him his coffee. I looked over at Jim. "Hey, Jim. How're you feeling?"
"I've been better. I have one hell of a headache."
"I can commiserate. Do you mind if I sit down? Am I interrupting?"
"I believe that Blair was going to begin with his 'You Should Be More Careful' lecture and then we'll progress to the 'I Promise That I'll Call When I'm Going To Be Out Late' rebuttal." Jim said. I wasn't really sure if he was kidding or not. Blair closed his open mouth and erased the exasperated look on his face.
"Okay. I'll forgo the lecture as long as you acknowledge the content."
"Yes, Mom. I'll be careful and I'll call you next time I'll be out late. Feel better now?"
"Yeah, lots."
"Good, Chief. Now go home. You look like hell."
"You don't exactly look like a supermodel yourself, Jim."
"Ha, ha. Now I mean it. Go get some sleep and you can come back later tonight. I'll just be sleeping most of the time anyway. I'll call you if anything changes."
"Okay. I could use a few hours…"
"And a shower, Sandburg." Jim wrinkled his nose. I smiled.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Jim. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk under better circumstances." I looked into his eyes, sure that he was hiding something.
"Yeah, about that. I want you and Blair to talk to Simon and tell him about what you saw. He's not exactly the most open-minded person when it comes to the supernatural stuff, but he'll at least listen to you." Jim turned to Blair. "Let me know what happens."
Blair laid his hand on Jim's shoulder. "Sure, man. I'll update you later today when I come back."
"Make sure that you come bearing gifts, like a cheeseburger from you-know-where." Jim smiled at Blair's disgusted expression.
"I'll see what I can do, but I don't think Wonder Burger is on the approved list for food. C'mon Max. Let's go. Mr. Headcase needs his sleep."
"I heard that."
Blair and I left the hospital room and walked down the hall to the bank of elevators. "Is he going to be okay, Blair?"
"Any time he asks for a cheeseburger, it's usually a good indication that's he's on the road back to health."
Section 36:
Blair saw Simon in the lobby and made his way in that direction. He was certainly interested to hear if anything had been discovered about Jim's shooter.
"No, Sandburg. Before you even ask, there's no progress yet. Forensics just got finished with the truck and Connor, Rafe, and Brown are canvassing the neighborhood to find out if anyone saw anything. And I never want to see that much of Jim's blood outside of his body ever again." Simon unconsciously rolled his unlit cigar between his fingers. He slid it back into his pocket and shot Blair his patented 'I'm the boss, don't question me' look. Blair ignored it.
"I know Simon. It scared us too. Thanks for letting me know what's going on. I'm sure Jim'll ask the same question when you get upstairs to see him. As for me, I've been ordered home and to bed by the 'supercop' himself. I'll be back in a couple of hours…."
"I'd better not see you for many hours, Sandburg. I mean it."
"Yeah, yeah…" Blair trailed off. He waved his hand at the captain as we exited the hospital and into the bright, fresh sunshine.
"God, that feels good." Max stretched, smiled and followed Blair to his car.
He let out a long breath and smiled himself. "I feel like I've been holding my breath for twenty-four hours straight. It feels damn good. Let's go home, I'm exhausted."
Blair just about melted into the couch when he got back to the loft. It was about all he could not to collapse on the stairs on the way up. He was sure that he had seen Max's eyes droop more than a few times during the drive home. She hadn't said a word since they left the hospital. He knew that Max was as drained as he was and offered her his bed. She collapsed into it just seconds before he lost consciousness himself.
Section 37:
As was usual for me when I was sleep-deprived, I clicked right into REM sleep and started dreaming as soon as I closed my eyes. As if in slow motion, I relived the events that led up to Jim's shooting, not really through his eyes, but somehow still part of his perception of the events.
I sat in the car next to him as he silently drove into the intersection and stopped at the red light. The silence and stillness of the night was somehow relaxing to Jim and he looked slowly around his surroundings. Jim cocked his head as if he heard something and then quickly ducked against the seat as the window next to him shattered inward. I jumped as the window crashed and I heard the whine of the bullet as it passed very close to my ear. Out of shock, I followed Jim down to the seat. Only Jim's fast and shallow breathing disturbed the again silence. I stole a glance in Jim's direction and saw the streetlight's beam glinting off the blood dripping from his head. It wound its path around his ear and dripped languidly onto the seat where it pooled. I watched him lay there, afraid to disturb him. Jim stirred and blinked his eyes a few times and stared at the dashboard in front of him. He mumbled Blair's name and lost consciousness again as I looked on. I could do nothing but watch as I knew this was not my dream, but part of a dream replaying the events in Jim's mind. I could smell the odor of a discharged weapon, Jim's blood, and something else, something familiar. I thought I heard the sound of footsteps coming towards me, towards the truck. I strained to make out any details, but I couldn't discern anything more than that. The sound faded away. Eventually, the sound of Blair's voice filtered into the cab and the lights from an oncoming Emergency vehicle intermittently lit up the street.
I woke up, drenched in sweat, with my heart pounding and more than a few questions running through my head. What the hell happened to him out there? Why was I channeling Jim anyway? Normally, I would have to be in physical contact with the person in question and usually awake. I stared at the ceiling and willed answers to come to me. The lights from a passing car stole across the room before disappearing into the corner. I decided to fix myself a glass of warm milk to help me get back to sleep so I got up and walked towards the door to the bedroom. I could hear the slight purring sounds of snoring as I opened the door and peeked out towards the huddled mass on the couch. A gentle light from an outside streetlight barely outlined the forms of the furniture in the living room. I swore quietly as I stubbed my toe on the edge of the coffee table. Blair's form did not move as I passed him quietly. I opened up the refrigerator door and the light cast a glow on Blair. I glanced at him again and then faced the insides of the refrigerator in search of the milk. The gentle murmurs of the refrigerator's compressor seemed reassuring somehow. I pulled the carton out of the back and shook it slightly, trying to determine just how much was left. I stepped back and bumped into something. I yelped, jumped and dropped the milk on the floor as a sleepy Blair stood behind me, rubbing his eyes against the light of the fridge.
"Jeez, Blair, what the hell did you think you were doing? You scared me!" I bent down with paper towels in hand to try and assess the extent of the spill. He bent down at the same time and we promptly bumped heads. I fell backwards onto the floor and, of course, landed in a puddle of milk. I shook my head as Blair stood me, laughing uncontrollably. "I'm so glad that I amused you. Is there anything else I can do for your enjoyment?" The sarcasm was only half-meant. I pulled the rubber band out of my hair and attempted to put it back into some semblance of order.
Blair pulled me to my feet, only inches from his face. The refrigerator light reflected lightly off his curls and his laughing eyes. "Actually, there is." He leaned in and kissed me gently. Partly out of shock and partly indignation for being laughed at, I did not eagerly return his kiss. He started to pull back and then I pulled him closer.
"I was wondering when you were going to do that." My hand slid down from his back to his hand and grasped it.
"I was wondering when I should do that."
"Blair, stop wondering and do it again."
Section 38:
Jim woke up suddenly on the heels of a vivid dream, the details of which were already melting away into his subconscious. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. The room was practically pitch black, save for one lamp in the corner by the door. The beeping of the cardiac monitor just registered with him as did the small and steady dripping of his IV machine into the tube connected to the inside of his forearm. Then the infernal buzzing in his ears began in earnest. Dammit! He had hoped that it would go away after he had woken up. The buzzing crescendoed until it blotted out all other sounds, the sounds he usually had no trouble hearing. Like the nurses talking the hallway, the scratching of the doctor's pen on a chart, his own heartbeat. Goddammit! He lashed out and swept everything on the top of his nightstand onto the floor. He had to get out of here and figure out who was trying to kill him. Blair might be in trouble. He didn't know why he was being targeted, but now that he wasn't dead, maybe they would go after Blair next. He peered into the darkest corner of the room and tried to count the cracks on the ceiling tile. He found that he still could see as if he was looking through night vision goggles. He could make out shapes, but not a lot of detail or colors. He rubbed his sheets between his fingers and found that he could still perceive individual threads. Okay, so only hearing was offline. He could work with that. He'd done it before. He would just have to rely on his other senses to compensate until he was better.
He lay back on his pillow. God, he was exhausted. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He pulled out his IV and ripped off his heart monitors. He stood up and swayed, the room seemed to be spinning under his feet. He grabbed for something to steady himself and succeeded in knocking down the IV stand and nearly himself. He shook his head and he seemed to regain his balance enough to walk over to the closet and take out his bag. He sat down on the cold cement tile floor and pulled out clothing that Blair had so nicely folded. Blair. That thought alone helped to propel him forward and get dressed. Pain lanced through his head unmercifully, like spider webs spreading out further and further from the site of his head injury. But, the buzzing had seemed to subside slightly and he was able to hear conversation and footsteps in the hallway. The nurses must be coming to check in on me. He opened the door quickly and slipped out just before two nurses passed by. He had grabbed his wallet from his bedside table before his hasty departure, but he had forgotten his keys. What the hell did it matter anyway? The truck had been impounded for forensic analysis.
He slipped into a nearby restroom to clean himself up so he could get out of the hospital without too many questions. He looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised by the haggard-looking man staring back at him. He looked horrible. His eyes looked sunken in and red-rimmed, his skin was pale and had a nasty tinge of yellow. He splashed some water on his face and gingerly felt the back of his head for the bandage covering his stitches. He pulled it off, grimacing against the sting of ripping out some of his hair. He rubbed his fingers over the stitches, glad they didn't have to shave his head. He pulled a paper towel out the dispenser a little too loudly, setting off the buzzing all over again. He sighed out of frustration and threw the towel at the garbage can. The familiar sound of a gun being cocked filled his head as he dove for the floor. He reached for his gun instinctively, but it wasn't there. Goddammit again! Simon had taken it with him when he had been brought into the hospital. He felt naked without it, completely vulnerable. And with his senses on the fritz… He would just have to be extra careful. He lay there for a few minutes, scanning the room for any sign of an intruder. He stretched his hearing out into the hallway, but was rewarded only by an increase in the volume of the buzzing sound and blinding bolts of pain through his head. The outer door of the bathroom began to open and he pulled himself to his feet. He looked at the floor as he walked past the person coming in and strode as best as he could down the hallway towards the lobby.
Section 39:
Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind as he kissed Max's soft lips. He ran his hands under her shirt and up her bare back. She moaned lightly and he took that as a sign that he could continue. Her hands were moving through his hair and the gentle tugging only made him more excited. He pulled away for a moment and led her to the couch and pulled her on top of him. He could still feel the pressure of her lips on his own. They continued to explore each other's bodies and mouths for a while until Max sat up.
She sat up on top of him and took a deep breath. She laid her hands on his now bare chest. Funny, he didn't remember taking his shirt off. "Whoa there, Tiger. I don't go all the way on a first date. Hey, did we even go on a first date?"
"Well, you've already slept in my bed, several times in fact. I think that would entitle me to…"
"To what? You better watch what you say next, Tiger." She smiled and leaned back in to kiss him gently on the neck. It gave him goose bumps all the way down to his toes.
"To whatever you want. You're in control here. I am just your plaything."
"My plaything, huh? Good." She became quiet and looked out of the french doors and into the street. The sun had already set and the streetlights were beginning to flicker on. Blair craned his neck to look at the clock on the wall. Just past 8:30 p.m. "Blair, what do you think really happened to Jim? I think that I caught some of…something…just before. He was reliving the shooting and there were a lot of things that didn't make sense."
"What? You can get flashes from people when you're not in physical contact with them?" Blair sat up with that question. The romantic moment had been broken.
Section 40:
"It's never happened to me before. A lot of things have happened to me lately that I can't explain, things that have never happened before. Usually, it's just fleeting images of people's strongest thoughts and feelings, nothing more than a little bit of a peepshow for me. I never can get enough to really understand what I see, but I can get a sense of their state of mind during whatever I see. But with you and Jim, everything's different. Ever since I met you, I get so many flashes that it makes my head hurt. So many images that I can't understand. And that thing with the coffee shop. I've never seen the future before, Blair. That scared the hell out of me and still does. How did I get so much from Jim when I just touched his hand? All I was trying for was a little show to get him to at least listen to me. What I got was his life history punctuated by the most traumatic parts of his life. I'm overwhelmed by all of this. By you." I stopped to pull in a ragged breath and leaned against the cushions of the couch. Blair ran a finger down the side of my face and pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.
"I think I have an idea of what you mean. Just trust me. I will do everything I can to help you with this gift."
I thought it better not to pursue what he meant by that and took his word that he would help me. Gift. I wouldn't call it that. It's much more trouble than a gift should be. I slid over and laid my head on his shoulder. It felt like we were meant to fit together that way. I inhaled slowly and smelled him. My eyes fluttered closed as I tried to imprint the memory of him into my mind.