*spn*sntl*
After the Winchester brothers dropped off the Sentinel books for Blair, Jim felt a little guilty. The boys managed to get the perfect gift for the ex-teacher. Blair was riding high from the new information. He absolutely loved learning and learning about Sentinels was icing on his favorite cake. He had been thrilled to find a Japanese college exchange student who was willing to translate the books into English (and keep his mouth shut about the transaction) for cash. Hopefully the girl didn't know about the dissertation fiasco since she had been across the ocean and in high school three years ago.
Blair had checked out the demonology book that Singer had asked for, but that seemed like a gift of much lesser value. Jim didn't want to be beholding to the other Sentinel. He knew of a way to repay the pair, a gift that no one else could offer.
As much as he absolutely hated the blue dreams, he hated knowing that someone was suffering torture more. He could probably get the griffin out of the rest of the chains in that other plane of existence, probably some symbol of the trauma that had activated the other Sentinel. He'd have to plan it carefully and that took time, weeks. He didn't want Blair around; no reason to be forced to explain the unexplainable. He'd need Dean to be asleep, and for someone with PTSD, that had to be scheduled.
So the next time Blair had scheduled dinner with Akeno (they'd go over the translation and Blair would tease out all the little nuances that the student didn't know to address the first time) Jim had sent the other Sentinel an e-mail asking him to be asleep early on Sunday night. It had taken Dean two days to reply with a simple 'Roger' and 'Thanks.' There were some things men could do themselves and freeing oneself from chains in alternate planes of existence apparently wasn't one of them.
So at the appointed time, Jim stopped cleaning the room, sat in the middle of his house and sank into a trance. The blue world was waiting. Jim was a jaguar running for black-red edge of the jungle. The dragon was sleeping, seemingly out of reach of danger, but wrong. So, so wrong. The griffin was still chained to the red land. The serpents were there too, just out of reach. They were waiting.
The griffin was waiting for Jim this time. He had managed to get a second chain off of his leg, but two manacles remained. Between the two spirit animals, they tore the shackles apart. The griffin, as expected, made a beeline for the sleeping green dragon.
Jim helped the griffin gently roll the dragon on its back. It was then that Jim could see the reason for the wrongness. There was a scaly, thin black line coming up from the ground (from the direction of the red barren land) and it was wormed its way into the dragon's veins. It was poison, it was death. Jim and the griffin wouldn't leave it there.
The second that the griffin wrapped its beak around the line to pull it out, the serpents from the red desert attacked. Jim leapt to the griffin's defense. It was brutal battle unlike any Jim had ever fought. Both Jim and the griffin knew that they had to win. They would not get a do-over. They could not retreat to fight another day. If they didn't get that black line out of the dragon this time, the serpents would drag the dragon into the red land as soon as the Sentinels awoke. They would lose the dragon for all time.
Jim and Dean wouldn't let that happen. Jim fought and fought. He knew that he was injured, he knew that Dean was injured. It didn't matter. It was a fight to the end.
Then finally, finally, finally, the griffin pulled the last of the thrashing black line out of the dragon's veins, revealing a yellow-eyed snake. The griffin crushed the snake's head in its beak and dropped the corpse. With the long thin black snake dead, the other serpents retreated. They had lost the battle.
Jim and Dean had won.
Jim didn't have the strength to remain in the blue dreams any longer. He faded away. The griffin had the watch now. Dean could take care of his Guide now that he wasn't chained.
Jim awoke to the sun streaming in the window. He was laying down in the living room, a couch pillow under his head. Blair had closed the emergency blackout curtains, but a crack revealed daylight. It was at least ten o'clock Monday morning. Shit. He was late. He flipped off the blanket Blair must have tossed on him sometime and instantly regretted it. Pain made itself known from every wound he had absorbed in the red barren land.
He groaned and Blair appeared as if by magic. "Stay down, Big Guy," he murmured Sentinel soft. "I called you in sick. You don't have to go anywhere."
Jim grunted.
Blair offered water. Jim drank the whole glass to cleanse his palette. It was better, but not good enough. He could still taste the serpent's blood and the dirt of the red barren land. It felt like poison.
A phone rang, the ringer piercing Jim's head. He couldn't have hidden the wince if he wanted to. Blair dove for his phone to silence it. He paused when he saw the number on the screen. The phone rang again and Blair answered in a whisper, "Sam?"
"It's Bobby… Singer," Jim heard the other man answer. "The two idjits are a mess now that they woke up. How's yours?"
"He just woke up."
"Yeah, so did the boys. Did he tell you anything?"
"Not yet." And that look on Blair's face promised that he would not relent until he had gotten the whole and total truth out of Jim. He was supremely pissed at what Jim had attempted behind his back. Jim? Jim wanted… a break? A vacation? Sleep.
"The boys haven't said much, but they wanted me to call you and make sure you knew that Jim had to drink Holy Water, right now."
"Holy. Water."
"I'm serious. He was messing with things he shouldn't have touched. He needs to drink like a gallon of Holy Water."
"A gallon."
"Yeah. You know a priest?"
"Yes," Blair finally agreed. "I know someone that can hook me up."
"Good. The boys are worried about him. Call me back when he's done drinking it."
"Oh. I will," Blair promised darkly. "I want answers. All the answers."
Bobby snorted at him. "Yeah. Good luck." And then he hung up.
Blair was already reaching for his keys. "You stay put," he ordered. "I'm going for the water. You are going to drink every last drop and then you are. Going. To. Talk."
Full stops. Jim was about to catch hell. (Or he had just helped the other Sentinel-Guide pair escape from Hell.) Despite all the pain, and the pain was something even the touch dial couldn't help, Jim was feeling smug. He had just helped win a war.
*spn*sntl*
Jim was on the exact same place on the floor when Blair returned home with a gallon of water. Jim would not have been able to move, but he told himself that he was placating his furious Guide. Jim was given a glass of the Holy Water before Blair even put his keys away. It tasted exactly like the rest of the city water, but something unidentifiable was different. It shouldn't have made a difference and yet…
It cleansed Jim's palette like the bottled water hadn't. By the end of the first glass, Jim knew that he'd survive the pain and by half way through the gallon, he wanted to get up and move.
Blair was against that idea. He did compromise and cook a meal if the Sentinel promised to stay exactly where he was and continue drinking the Holy Water.
It was no surprise that Jim needed the bathroom before he finished the gallon. He felt well enough to make his way on his own. Jim make his way from there to the kitchen table. Blair had a steak, broccoli and a baked potato ready. And yet another glass of water waiting. Blair was worried; normally Jim had to been near death before he'd get a steak without a lot of nagging.
The steak was fantastic and the rest of the food was pretty good too. Jim drank the water and Blair refilled it until they finished the gallon jug Blair had brought home.
"It's not that bad," Jim said once he was sure Blair wouldn't steal his steak away.
Blair flailed as all the emotion and worry he had been holding inside burst out. "Not that bad? Not that bad! Not that bad?!"
Jim winced as Blair hit volumes his ears couldn't handle. So he was still a little sensitive and all of the sense dials were set a bit high. They'd level out soon.
"I couldn't wake you up! The only reason I didn't call an ambulance is because you obviously did it to yourself."
"So I miss a morning of work. No big deal. You call it in."
Blair flailed more. "Jim. It's Tuesday."
Jim did an epic spit-take when he realized that he missed an entire day. "It's what?"
Blair finally calmed down now that Jim knew how long it had lasted. "You missed two days and you're missing tomorrow too until I'm certain you're fine. And until I get all the answers."
Jim grunted.
"Well?" Blair prompted.
"I don't know all of the answers, Chief." At Blair's obvious fuming, he hurried to explain. "I'm not putting you off. I don't know much about Sam and Dean and what I do know is filtered through the blue jungle or… wrong." As he remembered the police reports from Chicago and Milwaukee to be.
"Okay. Just tell me why you went into the blue jungle. You hate it and you obviously planned on that visit, at least."
"The griffin, Dean, had been chained up there."
Blair raised an eyebrow and Jim knew that he had to backtrack. "I fell into a dream a little while ago and found a red, dark barren desert. Dean was chained up in that desert. I had helped him free his wings and one of his legs but then I was kicked out."
"And you returned why?"
"He was suffering. There were serpents attacking him and trying to get to his Guide."
Blair raised an eyebrow and Jim recognized some of the police interrogation methods being used on him. Silence could be very effective but Jim needed to speak.
"But it was more than that. Those books they lent you are priceless and an old book on demonology seemed… frivolous in comparison. I wanted to return the favor."
Blair nodded in agreement about the books. "So you three spent a day and a half battling serpents? Any idea what it represents?"
"Well, considering I had to down a gallon of Holy Water to get the taste of the serpents' blood out of my mouth, that Bobby's book on demonology is equally frivolous as your book on Sentinels."
"Oh," Blair breathed. "Are you sure? I mean, you haven't seen anything like demons ever before."
Jim shrugged. "How would I know? But you know your old theory on the spirit animals?"
"That they're the baddest ass of the physical place where the Sentinel was activated? That old thing? It doesn't explain the griffin and the dragon."
"Except that it does," Jim said. "If you accept demons, they have to come from someplace."
Blair's jaw dropped. "You think Dean and Sam were in Hell?"
"Well, they weren't in Cascade. Dean, at least, was somewhere very different. You got your spirit animal before you ever went to Peru."
"How'd he get in? How'd he get out?"
Jim shrugged. "I told you that I don't have the answers."
"Well, we knew ghosts were real. And you're sure that the serpents were real and representing demons. What else is there?"
"I don't want to know."
"I do," Blair said.
*spn*sntl*