Chapter thirteen

"Shh, shh. I got you," Jim whispered as he rubbed Sandburg's back. After a few, excruciating minutes the coughing subsided and everyone could hear the whooping breaths as the sick man tried to get oxygen back into his lungs.

"Here." Bristows squatted next to the cot and held out a water bottle. Jim shifted bringing Blair up so that he was leaning sideways against his chest. It was awkward as he was kneeling on the cold floor, but he wasn't going to let go of him now. He continued rubbing the bony back feeling the heat from the fever burn into his body. With his other hand he tipped up Blair's chin until his head was against his shoulder. Gently, almost tenderly, the woman brought the bottle up to the panting mouth. "Just a bit. It should ease your throat."

Blair looked at the figure in front of him with watering eyes. His chest felt tight and his lungs laboured to bring him enough oxygen. He was burning up, his head was muggy and he felt somehow disconnected. He wasn't sure whether what he was seeing and experiencing was real, but spotting the bottle he decided that if he could his slake his raging thirst he really didn't care. He lifted a hand to take it and realised that he was shaking so much that he'd spill most of it before it got anywhere near his mouth. However, the woman on seeing his problem simply put the bottle to his mouth and let a few drops past his lips.

Paradise! The water was warm and tasted of plastic, but it was better than anything else he'd ever tasted in his life. His mouth eagerly sought out more and he tried to tip the bottle closer with his shaky hands. He felt a sharp tug in the back of one of them and blearily looked down at the plastic tubes attached to it.

"Slow down," Jim's voice rumbled in the ear that was pressed up against the detective's jaw. He was comforted by the familiar sound that he could also feel vibrate through his body. "Take it easy or you'll be sick."

A few more sips later and the bottle was removed. Feeling a bit better, which wasn't all that difficult considering just how shitty he'd felt, he took stock of where he was. He was obviously lying against Jim and he was surprised at how right that felt. For the moment all the pain and despair that he'd been feeling were pushed aside and he revelled in simply being cared for again. He'd deal with the rest later when he felt better. The unknown woman had stood up and was talking to an unknown man. The way they were dressed led him to believe that they were park rangers. 'Way to go, Blair. Brilliant powers of deduction there!'

A face swam into view and he recognised Megan's smile. "How you feeling?" She cupped his burning cheek with her hand and he leaned into its coolness.

"Megan," he whispered, his voice nearly just a breath. "You here, too?"

"Yeah." She moved her hand to lay it on his forehead. "I'm glad you're back with us. You had us worried for a while."

He tipped his head up as he heard the sound of a throat clearing above him. "Feeling better, Sandburg?"

In the gloom he recognised Simon looking down at him. He couldn't be certain, but it almost seemed as if the captain was concerned. "D'you get any fish?"

"What?"

"Fish, S'mn. Catch any?" He could feel his eyes getting heavy again and his head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool. Suddenly, his body was moving as Jim lowered him back down to the cot.

"Okay, Chief, I think you need to sleep some more."

"D'n't go."

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." The others looked on as the big detective carefully arranged the sleeping bag so that Blair's upper body was raised. He laid his hand on his forehead to gauge his temperature. Was it his imagination or had it finally fallen? If yes, it had reduced by only a few points. Nevertheless, this coupled with Blair's return to consciousness, confused though he was, could only be a step in the right direction. "Ranger Bristows," he called out to the woman.

She walked over from where she'd been rummaging amongst the cereal bars looking for one to tempt her. "Jane. Call me Jane."

"Okay. And I'm Jim." He ran a hand through his short hair. He gestured at the sick man. "His temp's dropped a bit and it's getting cooler in here. I don't know whether to cover him. All we've got are the sleeping bags and I think they're just too warm."

The Ranger looked down at the sorry looking figure on the cot. Dressed in only a pair of too-big boxers, she could see evidence of the fever in the flushed skin and the sweat that plastered the curls to his head. "Maybe we can dress him in a t-shirt? I agree using a sleeping bag would only increase his temperature."

"Does anyone have a spare t-shirt?" Jim raised his voice so the others could hear him.

"I've got one," replied Megan, "but I don't think it's your colour."

"It's not for me, Connor. It's for Blair."

"Oh." She walked over to the cot. "I don't think it'll be big enough even with all the weight he's lost."

"Um, I've got something," Pascal spoke up. He opened his saddlebag and pulled out a dark green t-shirt. He shook it out and handed it to Jim. "It's old, but clean."

"Thanks." Together with Megan he managed to get Blair into it without disturbing him too much although they'd had a fun time threading the drips through one of the sleeves. If the situation weren't so serious Megan would have laughed. With his short curls Blair looked like a boy wearing his big brother's clothes. Pascal's t-shirt came down to his knees and the shoulders almost reached his elbows. Damp spots were already showing on the dark cloth and Jim could see small tremors run through his body.

As Simon re-hooked the plastic bags back onto the branch he noticed that the antibiotics bag was almost empty. "Hey, Jim. Got another one of these?"

"Damn, no."

"Tablets?"

"A few, but he needs to be awake to be able to take them."

Simon looked at his watch. "It's gone ten. Why don't you get some sleep?" He held up his hand when it looked as if Jim was going to object. "I'll sit with him. And I'll call you if he wakes. Go on, just for a couple of hours. Okay?"

"Well…"

"Bristows will stay awake with me."

Jim looked at his sleeping friend and let his senses roam over him. He could hear the congested lungs, the heart beating sluggishly, but strong and see the sweat beading on the flushed face.

"Jim. Jim!"

He jerked at the hand on his arm to find Simon staring at him worriedly. "What?"

"You were zoning."

"I wasn't. I was just examining him. Okay, I'll rest for a while. Thanks." He turned to find a place where he could sleep and noticed Megan settling herself in a corner her head propped up on a saddlebag. Bristows and Pascal were quietly talking while sipping coffee. And suddenly, he felt exhausted. Exhausted in body and soul. Almost stumbling he made his way to where a few cardboard boxes lay against a wall. Copying Megan, he laid his head on a saddlebag. As he relaxed tensed muscles he could hear Simon softly singing while he wiped Blair's face and arms with a wet cloth. The song followed him down into his dreams.

"Mmmm, mmmmm, something, something

Didn't you, now? Didn't you?

You made your ultimatum too big to ignore

Didn't you, now? Didn't you?

Mmm, something your excuses, turned away and shut the door.

The world's mmmm, mmmm, and you wanted to explore.

It's a long, long, long road

And I don't know which way to go.

If you offered me your hand again I'd have to walk away…"

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Jim stretched his back and stood up. He brushed the leaves and moss that had stuck to his body and took in a deep breath. The smell of leaf mould, rain and sweet flowers filled his nose; he froze. What the…? He looked around at the blue-tinted jungle and then at himself. He was dressed exactly as he'd been during his stint with the Chopec even to the bow strapped to his back. Ahh, he was dreaming. But, God, everything felt so real. He put out a hand and fingered a large, white flower that hung from a tree. He could feel the tiny striations along the petals, smell the rich, cloying perfume, he brought his hand up to his mouth, taste the bitter oil that coated his fingers. He'd never had a dream this vivid before.

A roar from a large cat sounded to his left. Turning, he caught sight of his spirit guide standing on a rocky outcrop visible through the trees. It roared again while staring directly into his eyes and then with a switch of its tail it jumped down from the rock. Staring again into the man's eyes it loped off between the trees. Jim hesitated then ran after the animal. Dodging trees, bushes, hanging vines and the jumping over odd stream they ran for at least ten minutes. The panther slowed and disappeared from view behind a particularly large and thick bush.

Following, Jim skidded to a halt at the image before him. A large grey wolf lay on its side panting with its eyes closed. The panther was leaning over it licking at its muzzle and whining deep in its throat. The big cat glanced up at his human counterpart and Jim could see the pleading in its eyes. The wolf didn't move apart from the rapid rise and fall of its chest. Cautiously, Jim approached the two animals and knelt down next to the wolf. He put out a hand and softly stroked the top of its head. The panther stopped what it was doing, lay back on the ground and watched him without blinking.

"Hey, buddy," he whispered, "how you doing? Whoa!" He jerked back when the fur under his hand turned into long, curly hair and he found himself stroking the head of a very naked Blair. Unfortunately, he seemed to be just as sick as the wolf and his breathing sounded rough. He carried out a quick survey with his senses and noticed that this Blair, although exhibiting the symptoms of a respiratory infection, carried no other wounds or scars. In fact he looked exactly as he had when Jim had first met him almost six years ago.

"Unnngh," Blair moved under his hand and rolled onto his back. His eyes fluttered open and he stared up Jim. "Jim? Where…? What… ?" He curled over to his side as he erupted into a spate of violent coughing. He felt Jim rubbing his back and keeping his hair off his face. After a few painful minutes he stopped. "I don't believe this. Even in an effing dream I'm sick!" He rasped out then looked down at himself. "And naked." He took in a shaky breath. "How come you're dressed and I'm naked? It's my dream for Pete's sake."

Despite the seriousness of the situation waiting for him when he awoke Jim couldn't stop his lips twitching in amusement. "Actually, it's my dream, Darwin."

"And you're dreaming of me naked? Uh, should I be worried here? Ow!" he rubbed the back of his head where Jim had gently swiped him. "Okay. Why did it hurt? Probably because I expected this, so I created the pain."

"Uh? Sorry, you've lost me there."

"So, if I'm lucid dreaming I should be able to control this." He looked down at his body, closed his eyes and stilled.

After a minute Jim spoke, "Chief, what you doing?"

"Shhh." He watched as Blair, opened his eyes, squinted and frowned while making flowing movements over his body with his hands. "Well, that's just put a spanner in the works." He stared up at Jim who was still kneeling next to him and pointed a finger at him. "Naked, now."

"Sandburg! I'm not undressing for you. I've never been naked in any of my dreams and I'm not starting now!"

The other man sat up, looked at him intently then his shoulders slumped and he crossed his arms across his chest. "Why isn't he naked?" He mumbled. "He should be naked."

Jim was beginning to get peeved. "Will you tell me why you're so desperate to get my clothes off?" Then his eyes opened wide as he thought of something. "Oh God, if this is my dream why am I dreaming you asking me to get naked?" He jumped up and backed away from Blair. "Oh, I need to wake up now. Ow." He pinched himself, but all that changed was he now had a red mark on his arm.

"No, no." Blair scrambled up and then bent over as coughing again wracked his body. Jim darted forward and grabbed his arm when it looked as if he was going to fall.

"Slow down. Sit."

"No, wait. Don't you see? We're not dreaming. This is a vision." His face lit up in a face-splitting grin. "Oh man, I'm having a vision. *cough* I don't believe it. At last."

"Okay, okay. Calm down a minute. Sit, before you fall and we'll talk about this." He helped his excited friend back to the ground.

"A vision, yeah!"

"Alright. You're having a vision. Know why?"

"Hunh?"

"Any idea why we're having this vision?"

"Ummm, no. Hey, you're the expert."

"A couple of visions do not an expert make. You're the one who studied all of this." He winced at his use of the past tense, but thankfully Blair hadn't noticed.

"Right, right. I hear you." Blair ran his hand through his hair and froze. "I've got long hair." He felt his face. "And I'm not hurt."

"And the scar on your thigh's missing." Jim gestured at the limb in question.

"But I've still got this cough."

"So, what does it mean?"

"No idea." He started muttering under his breath using his hands to punctuate certain thoughts.

Jim tried to listen, but after catching words such as 'shamanistic practices', 'autohypnotic' and 'entheogens' he stopped and was content to simply watch. He realised with a pang that this was a Blair he'd not seen for a long time and that he'd missed him. Missed that unbridled enthusiasm for knowledge and comprehension. When had that light been extinguished? He compared the Blair sitting next to him to the brittle and defensive Blair that he'd spoken to at the Sheridan hotel. He wasn't naive enough to think that riding around with him hadn't changed the anthropologist. He'd experienced a lot during those years and in some ways he'd grown up. But at what cost? Certainly, the business with Alex had had a large part to play in the transformation. But he had a feeling that it had been only one link in a long chain of disasters starting when he'd read the dissertation chapter and culminating in the situation that led to Blair becoming a cop. And he was uncomfortably aware that he'd been a principal contributor.

He shifted on the moss-covered ground. That wasn't to say that Sandburg had been some paragon of virtue or innocent victim. Far from it! His lack of forethought, emotional insecurity and desire to be accepted had created circumstances that Jim had been ill equipped to handle and he'd resorted to pushing him and his needs away. Looking back on it now he understood that although they'd become friends, they'd become friends on his terms. And Blair had gone along with that. He'd turned down career-enhancing opportunities, given up any chance of ever becoming Dr. Sandburg and had endured months of hell at the police academy to be his friend.

And what had he done as Blair's friend? Rented out to him a small room under his stairs. Big deal. Blair had paid him every month for that, but he'd still thrown him out of that room with no warning. Saved his life several times. So what? Blair had done the same for him on numerous occasions. Got him a job as a cop. Look how that had turned out. And how had he thought that Blair could ever be a cop? Oh he was good at the detective work, brilliant even. But the sticking to rules and, more importantly, carrying and using a gun, just wasn't who he was.

He'd been so happy when he'd said yes when Simon had thrown his friend the detective shield. They'd be able to work together full time and he'd be able to use that vast intellect and innate understanding to help him police Cascade. So, he'd ignored the subtle and not so subtle nasty comments made to Blair by officers that had not been in the know. Had ignored the fact the DA had said that IA had to sign off on all 'Detective Sandburg's reports until further notice to make sure that no 'irregularities' occurred'. Had failed to see that his partner had been hurting, insecure and depressed and then compounded it by going undercover and keeping him out of the loop. Because through it all, he'd been the one in control.

Well, this had to stop. His need to be in control had led them to this and it was time to let go some of it and place it in the hands of the one person he knew that would never abuse it. Slowly, he undressed.

"Chief."

"Ummm."

"Blair. I'm naked."

"What?" Blair turned his head and his eyes widened at the sight of Jim sitting naked as the day he was born with an enormous grin on his face. He glanced at the pile of clothes on the ground and then back up to his face.

"I'm giving you control and I've realised that the water really is fine."

"Water? Control of what? This vision? Because I'm telling you now, I can't control anything here. I've tried and perhaps…"

Jim interrupted him with a hand. "No, control over me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, listen. I've worked it out. Where we went wrong. I've got to give up some of my control to you and you, you've got to take it."

"Sorry, you've lost me."

Jim told him what he'd worked out while looking straight into his friend's eyes trying to convince him of his sincerity. He held nothing back being brutally honest about how he'd failed Blair and how Blair had let him. He ended up with an apology and a promise that he'd never take him for granted again and would do anything to restore his friend's reputation. Hope made his heart race and brought sweat out on his brow. For once though, he couldn't read what the other man was thinking on his, normally very expressive, face. Coming to an end he stopped and waited. And waited. Blair said nothing. He watched, as eventually the other man turned away and stared into the distance his shoulders slumped.

"Blair?" He asked hesitantly. He lifted a hand wanting to lay it on his shoulder, but aborted the movement uncertain of how it would be received. He caught his breath when Blair turned round to face him tears swimming in his eyes. Oh, God, had he messed up, again? Had he said too much? Had it been too little, too late? "Chief, I'm… ," he swallowed. "Ummmf." He suddenly found his arms full of a naked Blair who'd thrown his arms around him and had burrowed his head under his chin.

"Thank you. Thank you." Blair felt as if his heart was exploding with joy. He drew himself back and placing his hands on his shoulders he looked Jim in his blue eyes. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that. I've been hurting for so long and I just didn't know what to do. I thought… I thought I'd failed you. That you didn't trust me. Had never trusted me… I'm sorry, so sorry…"

Jim put a hand over Blair's mouth silencing him. Blair rolled his eyes, but Jim didn't miss the glint of humour in their depths. "Enough. Are we good?" In answer Blair once again hugged his Sentinel. Jim hugged him back revelling in the contact his senses absorbing Blair's essence like a sponge.

They both remembered at the same moment that they were naked and Blair was almost sitting in Jim's lap. They jumped apart studiously avoiding each other's eyes. "You breathe a word of this to the others and I'll… " Jim growled with a smile on his face.

"Don't worry, man. I want to be able to continue to date women and word of this would seriously cramp my style. Besides there's no way I want to fuel the rumours about us at the PD."

Jim's smile faded. "I… I'm so sorry for what happened to you. I should've been… "

"Jim, leave it. I've accepted your apology. You've accepted mine and we're now on the right track again. Let's just leave it at that for now. We'll deal with the rest when we get back to Cascade."

Jim didn't fail to miss the 'we' in the last sentence nor the fact that Blair's lungs sounded clear and his temperature was normal. He finally felt at peace. He took in a deep breath and settled his head deeper onto the saddlebag… ? He sat up with a jerk and looked around the dark room. Megan was still sleeping in the corner and Pascal was sitting propped up against a wall with his head on his chest. Simon and Bristows were still on either side of Blair's cot trying to cool him down. And Blair… Blair's breathing was still wheezy and even from where he was Jim could sense that his fever had increased.