
Jim checked his watch again as he parked next to the building that housed Blair's basement office. He was early, but hoped to find his partner so they could have a talk, then he'd take Blair out to eat, and let him pick the place. The next couple of weeks weren't going to be easy, for either of them, but they'd get through it. It was early evening, just after 5:00, but for a Monday, the campus was nearly deserted. Jim entered the building at the far side, and had to walk to the end to reach the staircase that would take him to the artifact storage room that served as Blair's office. He unconsciously hurried past the door marked "Professor M. Kinyon", just in case. As kind and intelligent as the woman was, Jim didn't want to stand in the hallway for the amount of time it would take just to exchange greetings with her. He hurried past her office without incident and started down the staircase that wound around and down until it reached the building's basement. Blair's office door was open, but he knocked as he stepped inside.
"Sandburg?"
"Jim?" Blair's voice answered from opposite a wall of book-laden shelves. "Am I late?"
"No, Chief, I'm early." Jim walked around the shelves and found Blair at his desk, surrounded by paper, as usual. "Just thought I might as well come here as anywhere." He pulled up a chair and sat down, glancing at the papers strewn about the desk. "Go ahead and finish up, I'll wait."
Blair shrugged and took off his glasses, setting them down on a pile of folders. "Not much left to do. I've got the tests ready, just have to give them all week, and grade them next week. How did your meeting with Simon go?"
Jim nodded, and glanced around the office, making sure they were alone. His meeting with Simon was the reason he had come to pick Blair up early, and was also the reason he'd had to turn a couple of his cases over to Mike Jenkins, so he'd have more free time. "Fine," he replied, having changed his mind about how best to bring up the subject. "How about dinner? My treat."
Blair laughed for a second, then looked suspiciously at Jim. "What's up?"
Jim shook his head. "What makes you think something's up? Come on," Jim stood and slapped Blair lightly on the arm. "I'll take you to that Greek place you like."
Blair grabbed his jacket quickly and followed Jim out the door, apparently choosing not to question his good fortune any further. They drove the four blocks down to Hadi's, a Greek campus hot spot that Jim had grown to like since meeting the younger man. He kept the conversation light, asking his partner about his day, and explaining what little happened at the Precinct that he had missed. He found these days, when Blair had too much work at the University to come into work with him, to be somehow disjointed. It was finals week, so after Blair administered some tests, and they got past the trial, things would get back to normal for awhile. After their dinners arrived, Jim knew it was time to get serious.
"So, Jim, what is the real reason we're here?" Blair inquired, looking Jim in the eyes.
Should have known. "You and I have a meeting tomorrow morning with Assistant DA Sanchez," Jim said, stabbing his fork into a piece of lamb. "Brackett's trial has been moved up, Chief. You're going to have to testify this week." Jim held Blair's eyes as long as he could, noting the fear that flashed across them. "I know this is sudden, but the judge moved his calendar up." The words were slowly sinking in, making an impact on Blair's expressive face.
"I guess it's about time, huh?" Blair attempted levity, shrugging and playing with his fork in the salad.
"Listen, I know this isn't anyone's idea of a good time, but there's nothing to worry about," Jim said, watching Blair. "It's no different from any of the other cases you've watched go to court. We just get up there, give some testimony, and it's over."
Blair nodded, but he was watching his salad instead of Jim. "Yeah, only this time I have to go up there." He glanced up, then looked around for a second.
"And I'll be with you," Jim replied. He knew this wouldn't be easy. "Sandburg, there's nothing to be afraid of. We'll talk to Beverly tomorrow. She's going to fill us in, and tell you what to expect. Then, you go on the stand once, maybe twice, tell them exactly what happened, and it's over." Jim paused, trying to get Blair to look him in the eye. When he finally did, Jim continued. "I'll be right there, and they'll call me up, too. This is just the final step, Chief. Then Brackett's out of everyone's hair for good. Okay? Lee Brackett's going to jail for the rest of his life, partner. I assure you."
Blair nodded, then took a deep breath and seemed to perk up a little. "Yeah, you're right. Just gotta get through this week, and it'll all be over, right?"
"Right." Jim watched as Blair ate his first bite of salad. He'd known this would happen, and he had done his best to keep his own attitude light and casual. But, after what Brackett had done, Jim knew any time his name was mentioned, Blair would retreat just a little. He was going to have to keep a close watch on his partner, make sure he didn't fall into an emotional backdraft he couldn't climb out of.
"One thing I don't understand." Blair set the tip of his fork back into the salad bowl and twirled it idly, looking up at Jim. "What's he using for a defense? I mean, why is there even a trial?"
Jim finished chewing his lamb and shrugged a little, glancing around. "I'm not sure, exactly. But you know the rules, Chief, everyone gets their chance in court."
Blair raised his eyebrows as he nodded, staring at something a million miles away. A minute passed, and he seemed to bring himself back to the conversation. "What do you mean, not sure exactly?"
"I mean, I'm not sure exactly," Jim replied. Maybe he should have waited until they were home? Blair wasn't eating much, exhibiting the same reaction to stress that Jim tended to display. But he had to make his partner understand, this was just another part of the process. "We know he knows about my Sentinel abilities, and he knows no one else does. He may use that to damage my credibility as a witness." He saw another flash of fear race across Blair's face, and hurried to defuse it. "But, that's only a guess. Besides, we can put him away based on what he did to you, and the murder of Delaney and his dealer. There was nothing unusual about that case, Chief."
"But no one saw him do that."
"We still have Kostov," Jim replied. "He's been in FBI custody this whole time, waiting for the trial before he's deported. Testifying against Brackett was one of the contingencies he agreed to." Blair raised his eyebrows again and nodded slowly, as if trying to force himself to believe it. "Just hang in there, buddy. It will all be over soon."
"Yeah, thanks, Jim." Blair nodded and tried to pull himself back from wherever it was he had drifted. "So, when do we do all of this?"
"Tomorrow morning we'll talk to Sanchez. She'll let us know the details. Don't worry, our testimony will work around your schedule at the University. Simon gave my caseload to Jenkins for the next few days, so we can concentrate on this and get it over with."
"Yeah? That's great."
Jim nodded and went back to eating, watching Blair as he did the same, but with less appetite. They'd get through this. Tomorrow, they'd meet with the DA, find out what was happening and when, and take it all one step at a time. Blair could handle it. He had never been on the stand before, but Jim would make sure he knew he wasn't alone. Blair was the victim here. They both were.
They finished dinner while making small talk about the upcoming tests Blair was giving during the week. Jim never had a problem keeping an interest in any conversation, and with Blair's storytelling ability, he had no trouble paying attention, and keeping his partner from drifting back to the trial. By the time they left the restaurant, Blair's spirits seemed genuinely lifted. Jim knew that would be temporary, but every little bit helped. They drove home in silence, listening to the Santana tape Jim preferred. When they reached the loft, and were both sitting on the couch, Blair's mood changed again.
"Jim, I don't understand. Brackett stole a canister of the Ebola virus. He tried to highjack a plane. Then, he escaped from prison. What do they need my testimony for? Isn't that enough to get him back into jail?"
Jim shook his head and set down the cup of tea Blair had made. "I don't know exactly, that's what the DA will explain tomorrow. All I know is, the CIA had their hands in that case, and it very well might not be relevant in this one."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, the lawyers won't be allowed to bring it up." Jim held out his hands in an effort to explain. "Each case has to stand alone, they're separate things. That doesn't matter, though. We've got him on what he did to you, and the murder of Delaney. Plus, another attempted kidnaping, and a hundred other charges when he pulled that stunt at the warehouse."
"Yeah, but I've seen plenty of these sure-fire cases go bad, Jim."
"I know, Chief, I know. But you're going to have to trust me on this one. It's going to be okay." Jim knew, better than anyone, how easily a sure-fire case could go horribly wrong in court. But he also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Brackett was never going to get his hands on Blair again. "What about your tests, when do you have to give them?" Maybe focusing on something he could control would give Blair something to hold onto.
"Um...In the afternoon, except Friday," Blair replied. He was sitting in a corner of the couch, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I think I'll turn in." He set down his cup but made no move to get up.
"You going to be okay with this?"
Blair shook his head, sighing as he slowly got up. "No."
"Blair..."
"No, Jim, it's okay." Blair waved a hand at him as he stood in front of the couch. "I'll be okay, as long as..."
"I'll be there, too. So will Simon," Jim replied.
Blair nodded and turned towards his room. "Thanks Jim."
"Goodnight." Jim stayed on the couch, listening to his partner in the bathroom, then in his own room. He stayed there until he heard the rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat of a sleeper, then turned in himself. Blair hadn't had a nightmare in weeks, maybe it was even a month or so now, but Jim expected one tonight. From upstairs, directly above his housemate's room, Jim could tune into his breathing pattern without effort and set his own mental sensitivity to be alerted at the slightest change.
The jury had fallen silent, as if they left the room, one by one, and there was no one left but Brackett. Lee Brackett, standing before the Judge, smiling. Blair was in the Judge's chair, and Jim in the witness stand. There was a gun in Brackett's hand, and he was bringing it up slowly, smiling all the while.
"Which one shall it be?" he asked, pointing the gun first at Blair, then at Jim. "Who wants to go first?"
Blair lunged over the desk at Brackett, crashing into him and sending them both to the floor. Jim scrambled to get out of the witness box, but he couldn't get free of the seat. By the time he was up, Brackett and Blair were standing in front of him. There was a gun pressed into Blair's chest, and a second gun in Blair's hand, pointed at Jim.
"Sandburg, what are you doing?"
"He trusted you, Ellison." Brackett smiled, cocking the gun and pressing it harder into Blair's chest.
Blair cocked his gun as well, aiming at Jim's chest while looking into his eyes. Jim watched as his partner began to squeeze the trigger of the gun. In his eyes was a mixture of fear and hate, but which emotion was directed at Jim, he didn't know. He just knew it was going to end. Him, Blair, Brackett...it was all going to end, here and now. But if Blair shot him, then Brackett would kill Blair...He had to do something.
It was too late, Jim heard the explosion as he lunged forward. "Blair!" Jim rushed forward, and found himself sitting up in bed, his heart racing as the sheets slid down his chest. He glanced around quickly, taking note of the barest sign of sunrise coming through the glass. Tuning in to his partner below him, Jim heard the still-sleeping pattern of easy breathing. Had he shouted out loud? If he had, at least Blair hadn't heard. Jim looked at the clock as he rubbed his face, pushing the last of the vision from his mind. 6:30. If he got up now, he could take a hot shower, and there might be time for the tank to reload before Blair got up. He really was going to have to think about getting a larger hot water tank one of these days.
Jim got out of bed and quietly padded down the stairs in bare feet. The bathroom was right across the hall from Blair's room, but with both doors shut, Jim knew his housemate would sleep through any noise he made. Still, he kept the shower quick, hoping to save some hot water. The dream had taken him totally by surprise, and left him with an uneasy feeling. Last time he had a dream like that, it ended with him shooting Blair in the chest, after having aimed for Brackett. But this time...what had it meant? Did Blair not trust Jim to take care of matters when it came to Lee Brackett? Or did Jim have his own doubts? No...no, it wasn't a good idea to over-analyze these things. A nightmare was just that, a nightmare. Nothing more. When he got out and started to towel himself off, Jim made another auditory check on Blair. This time, instead of a sleep pattern from the bedroom, Jim found him in the kitchen, his breathing and heartbeat coupled with the sound and smell of coffee brewing. Jim picked up his watch from the counter and checked it as he put it on. 6:55. They'd have time for breakfast before heading in to see Beverly.
"Hey, Chief." Jim greeted Blair as he passed the kitchen. His partner looked tired. A look that was perpetuated by the hair that kept falling in front of his face.
"Morning." Blair yawned at the end of the word. "Hot water?"
"Should be. Did you sleep okay?" Blair had pushed the hair from his face, but it didn't dissipate the look Jim had seen.
"Yeah, I guess," Blair nodded. "I'm gonna hit the shower, then I'll start breakfast." He passed Jim and started down the short hallway.
"I can manage breakfast this morning, Chief."
Blair turned in front of the bathroom door and shook his head. "No, Jim, it's okay. I'll do it."
"What, you don't like my eggs?" Jim asked, smiling to off-set the mock indignation in his voice.
Blair returned the smile and shook his head. "No, man, I just need to keep things normal, okay?"
Jim nodded, "Okay." He understood. Blair nodded again and stepped into the bathroom as Jim turned to go up to his own room and get dressed. If Blair thought it would be easier to pretend it was just another morning, then Jim could play along. For as long as it lasted.
Blair shut the water off and stood there for a moment, happy to have ended a shower after Jim with warm water. He often felt guilty using the hot water all the time, but he just normally got up first. Except when something was up, and Jim was getting up before him on purpose for one reason or another. Usually in order to help Blair through the latest crisis. God, he had to stop doing this. He had to stop relying on Jim to pull him up when things got rough. He had never leaned on anyone before, why was he doing it now? Sure, before meeting Jim, Blair had never been targeted by a serial killer, shot by an international terrorist, or even hit on the head. But that couldn't...what could that have to do with it? Okay, so they shared a little more than most male-bonding fishing trips gave the average two friends, but...that didn't give Blair the right to depend on Jim to help him through each and every emotional crisis he might have. What must Jim think of him? And did he think...Would Blair be there for him?
The smell of coffee coming from the kitchen roused Blair from his thoughts, forcing him to step out of the shower and into a chilly bathroom. He hurried to towel off, then wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom quickly to get some clothes on. Jim was still upstairs, getting dressed, so Blair checked the time. They had nearly an hour before their meeting with the DA. Blair was determined not to let Jim down. He'd go in there, follow his partner's lead, and just do exactly what he was told, answer every question, and it would all be okay. After all, he wasn't the one on trial, Brackett was. And Jim was right, he hadn't really relied on his Sentinel abilities to catch him, it was pure, good old-fashioned detective work that netted Lee Brackett at the warehouse that day. Not like when Jim witnessed Tommy Juno kill his dear friend and undercover cop Danny Choy. That had been Blair's first, real experience with death...with murder. And Jim...Jim had reacted so...Danny's death had hit him so hard, Blair had never seen that before. He often wondered if Jim would feel the same way about him if anything like that happened. His grief had run so deep then, even his Sentinel abilities had been affected. Sometimes, remembering Jim's reaction, Blair felt almost...jealous.
"Hey Sandburg, you making breakfast or what?" Jim called from the kitchen.
Blair stirred. "Yeah, I'm coming." Jeez, how long had he been sitting there with just one sock on? "Sorry Jim." He shoved the other sock on and came out to the kitchen, accepting the cup of coffee Jim handed him, then pulled out some pans and eggs. They had an unwritten rule, to go along with many of Jim's written ones, that had Blair on permanent breakfast duty. It was a task he enjoyed. Making eggs and toast was an easy way to ease his way into the morning, and concentrate on something other than whatever might be bothering him, like this morning. Blair realized, as he was dishing up the eggs, just how careful Jim had been the night before when he broke the news about the trial. He also knew that he could be selfish sometimes, emotionally, and Jim didn't deserve that. Just what was it that made him so anxiety ridden, and Jim so...stable? Blair was constantly studying the older man, and could anticipate his reactions often, but he still couldn't apply them to his own reactive personality.
"Hey, Jim, listen," Blair set the pan down and took a seat, looking at his eggs for a moment, then up to his partner. "About last night, I'm sorry if I was a little panicky."
Jim shook his head, setting down the coffee cup he had just taken a drink from. "Don't worry about it, Chief, you'll be fine."
Blair waved a hand in the air, nodding and shaking his head almost at the same time. "No, I know I will, Jim. I mean last night, I wasn't so okay. I just want you to know, I'm not going to disappoint you here or anything."
"Blair, I know you're not going to disappoint me. You never have. We'll get through this, and we'll move on." He checked his watch. "What time is your class?"
"1:00 is the first one. I've got two, today." Blair picked up a fork, but didn't feel like eating, so he played around with the eggs for a minute. "What are you going to be doing, if you gave your caseload to Mike?"
"Catchup, Chief. There's always paperwork to be done. Suspects to interview, research to be done. The city never sleeps, you know." Jim finished his eggs and looked at Blair. "I'll drive you to class when we're finished with Beverly. I for one will be glad when these classes of yours are over for a bit, I'm getting tired of having just Simon to talk to."
Blair laughed, nodding his head. He often found it difficult to keep up a conversation with the Captain, even though Blair typically had no problem keeping up a conversation with just about anyone. Jim and Captain Banks were good friends, but even Jim occasionally found himself having more in common with Blair's point of view than the other man's. Although there were times when Jim would definitely side with Simon, usually when it had to do with Blair wanting to do something he really shouldn't. Blair realized Jim was still watching him, sitting there drinking his coffee, so he forced himself to eat some breakfast, then cleared the plates. Jim started putting on shoes and told Blair to go ahead and leave the dishes for later, so he did. He hurried to put on his own shoes, then caught the coat Jim handed him and followed him out the door.
"Don't forget your keys," Jim reminded him as Blair was shutting the door.
He quickly felt his pocket. "Got em." Too many times, Blair had forgotten to take his keys out of his pants pocket, and put them in the tray by the door, then gone running out the door without them.
As they drove to the station, Blair could feel the fear that he was trying to ignore creeping back up. He pushed the hair from his face with one hand, trying to determine its steadiness. Beverly was on their side, he knew that. She and Jim had even dated once. But that was back when Danny was killed. Back when Jim had been so affected, he lost control of his Sentinel abilities. Back when a sure-fire, eyewitness case of Jim's had gone horribly wrong in court.
"Sandburg, you ready?"
Blair looked up, realizing they were parked in the Precinct garage already, and Jim was looking at him. "Yeah, I'm ready." He reached for the door handle and Jim held out a hand, touching his arm.
"Listen, Beverly is on our side. If you have any questions or concerns, I want you to ask."
Blair nodded. "Right, Jim."
"I mean it, Chief." Jim hadn't let go of his arm yet so Blair listened. "I don't want you crawling into some hole somewhere going quietly nuts. You're not alone in this, got that?"
Blair nodded again, glancing at the floor of the truck for a moment, somewhat embarrassed. "Yeah, Jim, I got it. Thanks." He looked up and smiled, then motioned with his head towards the door. "Shouldn't we...?"
"Yeah, let's go." Jim let go of his arm then and opened the door, climbing out of the truck. Blair followed suit, but instead of walking to the elevators as they normally would, they walked over to the door that led to the street behind the building, and crossed it, to the courthouse.
Going quietly nuts. Blair had never thought of it that way before. But his little anxiety attacks had never taken on such intensity before Brackett came along. He had nearly gone nuts last time. He had even gone so far as to...almost...Blair shook his head, trying to ban those thoughts. It was exactly what Brackett would have wanted, to have his influence come between Blair and Jim. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let him win.
They stepped off the elevator and into the hallway, then walked to the far end and found the door marked Beverly Sanchez, Assistant DA. Jim paused before knocking, glancing back at Blair.
Blair nodded in reply before Jim could ask the question. He was not going to fall apart, not here, not now. Jim knocked, then opened the door when he heard Beverly call out. Blair followed, glancing around the inside of the office quickly before turning to shut the door. He knew Brackett wouldn't be there, not in the office, but he couldn't help it.
"Jim, how are you?" Beverly approached, hand outstretched, and shook Jim's hand, then turned to smile at Blair. "Blair, I'm sorry about the suddenness of this. It couldn't be helped."
Blair shook her hand and tried to return her warm smile. "It's okay." He released her hand and glanced at Jim. "Just gets it over with sooner."
"That's right, Chief," Jim said.
"Please, have a seat." Beverly motioned towards two chairs that were positioned facing her desk, then she moved around to sit behind it, facing them as they sat. "Now, I'm not sure what Jim might have told you, Blair, but I want you to know your testimony will be worked around your schedule at the University."
Blair nodded and raised his eyebrows slightly. He didn't really want to say anything, and thought it might be best to say as little as possible. If he kept quiet, and forced himself to pay close attention, instead of drifting off into his little worries, he might get through this with some level of maturity. He was not going to let his partner down.
"At this point, I have your statement from the arrest report, and so does the defense attorney. What's going to happen, is we're going to call you to the stand, ask you some questions about what happened, and then they'll get the opportunity to cross examine. You've seen this before."
"Yeah." Blair nodded again. He'd seen it, he'd just never done it.
"What's he using as a defense?" Jim asked.
Beverly sighed. "Innocent. Pure and simple. Claims he didn't do it."
"What?" Blair asked, incredulously. He looked at Jim, then back to Beverly. "How can he? There were cops all over that warehouse. He shot two of them."
She was nodding, but there was nothing agreeing about her composure. "He's claiming he didn't kill Delaney, or the dealer. Says he was framed by Kostov to come to the warehouse, and thought everyone was there to kill him and he had to act in self defense to get away." She glanced at Jim, then back to Blair. "He's also claiming he had nothing to do with what happened to you."
Blair swallowed, trying to focus on the corner of the desk in front of him while he mentally put the pieces together. It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be cut and dried. But then, so was the case against Tommy Juno.
"What about the tape?" Jim asked, glancing from her to Blair. "Simon and I both saw it, and we took it in as evidence."
Beverly looked down for a moment, then up at Jim. Blair could see a look in her eyes that he didn't want to see. "The tape was destroyed in evidence lockup."
"What?!" Jim asked incredulously. "What happened?"
Blair sat still as a stone, fear creeping up from his gut to his face. This simple case was turning on him already, and they weren't even in the courtroom yet.
"It was destroyed, Jim. That's all I know. Seems to have been expose to acid or something. I've had it sent to the FBI's crime lab, but I think it's hopeless." She turned back to Blair and he had to force his eyes to meet hers. "Your job is to answer the questions, and keep your answers short and to the point. I'll make sure the questions get our point across. We don't need the tape, we have two eyewitnesses to the recording, and your testimony. Now, we know he's lying. It's my job to make the jury see through his lies, and convict him. All you have to do is tell the truth."
"Yeah? Well, I can handle that." Blair smiled slightly, trying not to glance at Jim. His embellishments and obfuscations may be a private joke between the two of them, but when the truth was needed, Blair had no problem. His only problem right now was dealing with the fact that this entire case might rest on his testimony. Not Jim's, but his.
"What about Kostov?" Jim asked.
Beverly nodded, glancing at some papers on her desk. "The Feds are bringing him to court for his testimony, which should take place right after your own." She flipped open a notebook and turned a few pages. "We did opening arguments last Friday, and got quite a lot of groundwork laid down." She looked back up at Blair, then at Jim. "I've got you two down for tomorrow morning, first thing. Is that going to be all right?"
Jim nodded, glancing at Blair for a moment before returning his gaze to Beverly. "We'll be there," he replied.
She looked at Blair and he nodded. "Okay, good," she smiled. "The Defense may not have any questions for you right away, so you're looking at a possible call back on Thursday or Friday." She glanced at her watch. "Any questions?"
Blair looked at Jim and shook his head. He had a million of them, but he knew the answers wouldn't be what he wanted. He could feel his heart rate begin to increase with the realization that the whole mess was marching right along, and he prayed Jim wouldn't listen.
"Fine. I'll see you both in the morning." Beverly stood, so Blair and Jim followed suit. "Jim, can I see you for just a minute?"
Blair looked at his partner and pointed towards the door. "I'll just wait out there."
"Right." Jim patted Blair's arm as he passed between the two chairs and walked to the door.
Once in the hallway, Blair's heart really began to race, and he knew for sure Jim would tune in to it. He leaned against the wall and began to breathe, steadily, in and out, in a slow, rhythmic pattern designed to reduce the body's reaction to stress. That's all it was, stress. He had never gone to court before and had to be a part of the case. Let alone a pivotal part. When David Lash attacked and kidnapped him, he was killed during the arrest attempt. All the other cases Blair had seen go to trial, hadn't involved him. The others had simply required his sworn statement in a lawyer's office. He used to find it interesting, watching Jim on the stand, following his cases from start to finish. But now...now he was involved more than he had ever wanted, or expected. And it was no one's fault. No one he could blame, anyway. No one other than Lee Brackett.
"Hey, Chief, all set?" Jim stepped out of the office, followed by Beverly who was now carrying a briefcase. "Let's see if we can get some work done before you need to be at the University."
"I'll see you two in the morning." Beverly hurried down the hall in front of them, heading for the stairs that would lead up two flights to the court rooms.
"I'll call you tonight," Jim called after her.
Blair stepped up to the elevator and pressed the button. "So, the trial has already started?" he asked as they got into the elevator.
"There's a lot to these trials, Chief. More than just you and me telling the jury what happened. Lots of legal posturing to go through." Jim pressed the button for the lobby and looked at Blair. "I didn't hear about it until yesterday, myself. Simon and I both thought it was scheduled for next month."
The elevator stopped and they got out, walking through the morning crowd and out to the street, then crossed to the Station. Once inside, they passed and were greeted by several officers on the way to the elevator. Lately, Blair had been feeling sensitive to what the other officers were thinking, despite Jim's constant assurance that he was accepted and liked by those who mattered. His little episode in the garage, with Jim's gun, still weighed heavily on his mind. Although, aside from the occasional comment from a uniformed officer that he wasn't even supposed to hear, Blair had never been given reason to believe he wasn't accepted there as Jim's partner. It was just this damn trial, weighing him down. He was going to have to start taking his own advice and calm down.
"Sandburg, you coming?"
Blair looked up, realizing they were on the 7th floor and Jim was standing outside the elevator, looking in at him. He grimaced, then smiled his embarrassment and rushed out of the car, following Jim to his desk.
"What's on the agenda this morning?" Blair asked, shrugging out of his jacket.
"Just have to go over this case with Mike, and hit the paper trail." Jim reached out for Blair's coat and hung it on the hanger behind the desk, then started to take his own off. "Listen, Chief, if you need to..."
"Ellison, I need you and that file in here." Captain Banks had stepped out of his office when Jim entered the room.
"Right away, Captain." Jim finished removing his coat and tossed it to the rack. "Grab that file for me." He motioned with his head towards his desk and walked to Simon's office.
Blair stepped around the chair and found a file in the middle of the desk, picked it up, and followed Jim into the office. On the way there, he noticed Mike Jenkins inside, as well as Simon and now Jim. Blair entered the office and handed Jim the file, nodding at Mike who greeted him with a smile, then moved around the group to stand against the wall where he could listen to the conversation already in progress.
"There's not much to go on yet, Captain. I just got the case yesterday," Jim was saying. He handed the file to Mike Jenkins and turned back to Simon.
"Mike will take over. He can always check with you, right, Mike?"
"No problem," Mike replied, glancing at Jim.
"Listen, Simon, I could handle this case. I mean, Mike's got enough of his own."
"No. No way, Jim." Simon shook his head, glancing at Jim, then Mike before either could reply. "I want you focused on this trial, and nothing else." He spared a quick look at Blair, who was listening to them all. "It's only for a few days. I want this guy put away, and this whole mess over and done with. If that means lightening your load for a week, I'll do it."
Jim nodded, and they all three seemed to glance at Blair at the same time. A sudden rush of guilt forced Blair's gaze to the floor, then around to the desk, where he consciously made his eyes follow a leg of the table back up, until he could once again glance about the room at the same level as the rest of them. It didn't matter what Jim or Simon kept telling him...Blair was going to feel responsible for this entire incident until it was over. He just couldn't shake it.
"Jim, have you interviewed any of these witnesses yet?"
"No, Mike, not yet." Jim turned back to Mike, and Blair focused on what they were saying, willing his own thoughts away for as long as he could. "Forensics still has the scarf we found on the scene, and I don't have a report back from them yet on the fibers in the car."
Blair listened to the two Detectives discuss a case he had missed completely while at the University, but he soon realized he wasn't paying much attention. It was over before he even knew what had happened, and Jim was ushering him towards the door.
"...drop you off at the University," Jim was saying.
"Yeah." Blair nodded and started out the door, glancing up at the wall clock. His first class was in an hour.
"Hey, kid, hang in there." Mike patted Blair on the shoulder as he walked past. "Jim, you too. Still having those nightmares?"
Blair looked up suddenly, wondering for a split second if Mike was talking to him, or Jim. He noticed Jim making a quick gesture with his head, then glance at Blair.
"Well, take it easy," Mike said, making a big show of folding up the file in his hand.
Blair turned around to face Jim, but before he could say anything, Jim moved to the desk and reached around for their coats. "Come on, Chief. I'll give you a ride."
"Jim..."
"Let's go, Sandburg. I've got a lunch date after I drop you off." Jim tossed Blair his coat and started to walk away, leading the way back to the elevators.
Blair caught the coat, and had to hurry to catch up, getting to the elevator as Jim was stepping inside and turning around. They were alone on the way down, so Blair finished pulling on his coat and turned to his partner. "Jim, you didn't tell me you were having nightmares."
Jim shrugged, glancing down at him for an instant, then back up to the numbers above the door. "No big deal, Chief, just a couple of bad dreams." The doors opened and Jim stepped out into the garage, leading the way to the truck.
Blair once again had to hurry to catch up. "Jim, it is to a big deal. Why didn't you tell me?" Jim was opening the driver's side door and he turned to look at Blair. "Now I have to tell you about every little bad dream I have? Come on, Chief, it was no big deal. Get in." Jim got in the truck and started the engine, waiting for Blair to get in as well.
Reluctantly, Blair walked around the hood of the truck and got in, buckling up then looking at Jim as they drove out of the garage. "Jim, the last time I knew about a nightmare you had, it really affected you. Scared the crap out of me, too." Blair instantly recalled having been awakened by the sounds of Jim, in the room above his own, shouting in his sleep. Waking him had frightened Blair even more, as his partner was able to come instantly awake and ready for trouble, grabbing his gun before even opening his eyes. He knew Jim was too good to ever shoot without a clear knowledge of what was going on, but having a gun drawn and cocked in a instant, and aiming at you, was not something Blair was used to. "You told me about that one."
"I didn't have to tell you about that one, you already knew." Jim glanced down the alley before pulling out. "Listen, Blair, the only reason I haven't mentioned the last couple, was because they just happened. I thought you had enough to worry about this week."
Blair shook his head. "No, man, this isn't about me. It's about you, Jim. You're having nightmares for a reason, and if you'll talk to me about it, maybe we can work them out."
"There's nothing to work out, Blair. Just forget about it. In a week, this whole mess will be over and neither one of us will have any more worries." Jim was making a left turn, so he glanced at Blair as he did so. "Okay?"
Blair sighed, glancing out the window for a second. "No, Jim, it's not okay." He looked back at his partner. "You told Mike, though."
Jim shook his head, laughing a little as he shot Blair a quick glance. "Now what's that all about?"
"Look, Jim, I'm a big boy, honest. I can handle this without cracking." I think. "I just don't like the idea that this is getting to you, to the point of you having nightmares, and not telling me about it."
"Oh, like you telling me about yours?" Jim asked.
Blair sighed and looked back out the window. He never needed to tell Jim, his Sentinel room mate could hear any change in Blair's breathing pattern from upstairs without even trying. And he certainly couldn't explain the visions he occasionally saw in those nightmares, not without reliving each and every moment. Lately, his nightmares hadn't been about Lee Brackett, they had been about...about...Blair shook his head, forcing the memory and the visions away. Each time they came, the terror, and embarrassment of the incident returned with them.
"Sandburg, I said what time should I pick you up?"
Blair looked up suddenly, realizing they were parked outside his building. Damn. "Um, I'll be in the office anytime after 5:00. Whenever you're ready, Jim." Blair opened the door and climbed out.
"I'll drop by around 5:30." Jim said as Blair moved to shut the door.
"Thanks, Jim." Blair shut the door, then turned and walked to the building that housed his office. Great way to convince him of your maturity, idiot. If Blair kept drifting off into these little self-indulgent panic quests, he'd never convince Jim, or himself, that he could handle this. Why he had flashed on the incident in the police garage...and--them...he didn't know. It happened nearly a month ago, and no one at the Station had given him reason to feel embarrassed. But the flashbacks, as infrequent as they had been so far, still brought the whole episode back fresh in his mind, and nerves. Focusing on that, as a way to keep his mind off of the trial, would definitely be a mistake. And he shouldn't be focused on anything else anyway. If he couldn't handle a simple trial, where he had nothing to do but sit up there and answer a few questions, then what good was he doing Jim? No, these little mental drift-offs had to stop, now.
Jim watched Blair walk towards the building, then pulled out and drove back to the Station. He could sympathize with his partner's emotional state, but to think having Jim explain his own nightmares would help Blair cope in any way was a mistake. The kid was falling apart every five minutes. Slowly, and quietly, but falling apart none-the-less. Jim was used to this kind of stress, as used to it as a person could get. But Blair, he still had such a fresh outlook on life, and the legal system, as to put too much faith where it didn't belong. Then, once realized, that fact could haunt a person suddenly thrust into the situation himself, as Blair was being haunted with the memory of Lee Brackett, and no doubt of Tommy Juno. That case had been Blair's first taste of how horribly wrong a sure-fire trial could go. Danny's killer would have been put away, if it hadn't been for Jim's Sentinel sight coming into question. And, if it hadn't been for these senses, Lee Brackett never would have targeted either of them.
Jim pulled into the Station garage and checked his watch. He told Beverly they'd meet as soon as the Judge broke for lunch, which should be any minute now. He wasn't needed upstairs for anything other than a mountain of paperwork waiting for him, so he crossed the street to the courthouse, and quickly checked her office. Court hadn't quite recessed, so he took the stairs to the ninth floor and found the courtroom. Jim paused just outside the door, listening to the proceedings. Beverly was still questioning a witness, so he opened the door and stepped quietly inside, finding a place on a far bench to sit. From where he sat, behind the defense bench, Jim could see Brackett, and not be seen by him. Jim felt the coldness inside come back. The coldness he had felt all those hours sitting beside Blair in the hospital, watching his partner go through agony. An agony that had lasted for days, and was due entirely to the actions of the man he was watching now.
"Thank you. I have no further questions, your Honor." Beverly turned and walked back to her seat.
Jim looked up as the witness was being excused, and recognized the officer in charge of the evidence lockup. Had he been responsible for the destruction of the tape?
"Court will now recess for lunch. We will reconvene in two hours." The judge banged his gavel, dismissing the court for lunch.
Jim waited while the room cleared out, forcing himself to remain exteriorly calm as Lee Brackett stood and turned, seeing Jim sitting there. Their eyes met, and Lee smiled before he was led out the side door and back to his holding cell. Jim returned a look of ice, mirroring the sensation in his gut. Brackett disappeared behind the door, and a hand touched his arm.
"Jim, ready?"
Jim turned and saw Beverly standing beside him. "Yeah, let's go." They left the courtroom and started down the hall for the elevator. "You got someplace in mind?"
"How about Rotellies? I could use some pasta." Beverly hit the elevator button and looked up at Jim. "If that's alright with you?"
"Sure, sounds good." Jim stepped inside the elevator after her, then moved aside to make room for several other people. They waited quietly until the elevator reached the lobby, then stepped out and followed the small crowd as they all headed for the main doors, then dissipated once reaching the sidewalk. It was no longer raining, and the restaurant Beverly preferred was only a block away, so they walked the short distance, keeping their conversation light until they were seated in the small eatery.
"How's the trial going?" Jim asked, trying to remain conversational.
Beverly sighed, nodding. "Slow, but that's to be expected. It takes some time to lay the ground work for these things, but we've gotten past that now. We're beginning to get to the heart of the matter."
"And...?"
"And, he's still holding to his story." Beverly sipped her water and shook her head. "It's going to be an uphill battle, but with Sandburg's testimony, and Kostov's, we should be alright. Although, having that tape would have really sealed it for us."
"What about the other charges? The Ebola case, and that whole stunt he pulled on the mountain with Blair and I?"
"You know we can't use those, Jim. The CIA's taken over both cases, and the judge ruled all reference to them inadmissable." Beverly paused as the waiter set down their plates. "Thank you." She sipped her water again while he set down Jim's plate, then resumed their conversation. "I just don't want to lose him to the CIA. I want him put away for what he did to Delaney and Blair."
"How's Kostov? Is he still sticking to his plea bargain?"
"So far. He's still been promised deportation after the testimony, but no charges will be filed against him here in the states."
Jim nodded and took a bite of spaghetti.
"Is Blair going to be all right with this? It might get rough."
"I know. We'll have a talk tonight, he'll be fine." Jim sincerely hoped. "Anything I should know about?"
Beverly sighed, glancing around their table for a moment. "I can't be sure, but if I were in the defense shoes, I'd go for an attack on Blair's character. Show him as an unreliable witness. I'm sure that's what they'll try." She paused and Jim could feel his jaw clenching slightly. "He's never done anything to warrant a question of character, has he Jim?"
"No, not since I've known him." Jim set his fork down. "Before that, who knows. But I can say this, the Blair Sandburg I've gotten to know, is beyond reproach." Sure, he could be a little irritating at times, but...
"Good. So, no history of drug abuse, or arrest record?"
"No. He was officially arrested just the once, and proven innocent within days."
"Yes, I remember that one. My colleague may not have handled it well, but he was indeed innocent, and that's what counts."
"Right," Jim agreed.
"How are you doing? Still having nightmares?"
Jim sighed, raising his eyebrows slightly. "Last night, as a matter of fact."
"Brackett again?"
Jim nodded, then took a drink of his coffee. "Yeah. They get worse every time."
"Worse?"
"I keep seeing my bullet hitting Blair, instead of Brackett." Jim shook his head, looking around the room for a moment. "I know these are just nightmares, and when this is all over, they'll stop. But I just can't get that vision out of my head."
"Jim, you need to talk to someone about these." Beverly reached out a hand and touched his arm. "Sure, they're stress related, but they're tearing you apart. I can see it."
"What, you mean talk to a shrink? Beverly, they're just nightmares."
"No, Jim, I mean talk to Blair," she said. "If these dreams are involving him, and in such a violent way, then maybe talking to him about it will help. There's obviously something, I dunno...subconscious going on here. Maybe talking will clear it up?"
Jim shook his head. "No. It's just stress, nothing more. He's having a bad enough time with it, I don't need to add any more."
Beverly sighed and shook her head, releasing her hand from his arm. "Okay, Jim, it's your life. You can always talk to me, but I don't think that's what you need to do."
They finished eating and passed the lunch hour with more casual conversation. Jim and Beverly had at one time tried a more intimate relationship, but circumstances had made that difficult, and they had decided to become friends. Over the months, their friendship had held true, leading Jim to feel comfortable in confiding in her at times. And, when the nightmares had become more frequent, and the trial closer, he had mentioned them to her, thinking that discussing the trial would help bring an end to the continued visions of his gun firing a bullet that tore through Blair's chest, ending both of their lives. This new nightmare, with Blair as the one who pulled the trigger, had disturbed Jim even more. So much so, that he didn't want to discuss it with anyone. Let alone Blair.
"Well, I had better get back to the office before court reconvenes."
"I'll walk you." Jim paid for lunch, as it was his turn, then walked Beverly back to the courthouse, choosing this time not to go back up with her. Instead, he returned to the Station, and began the long process of clearing up all the reports, files, evidence, and other miscellaneous paper work he usually tried to avoid as long as possible. That, or have Blair do it. The day crawled along, with thoughts of Brackett's face, and the upcoming testimony of one scared to death partner, constantly interfering with his tasks. By 5:30, he had reached his limit.
Once again, Jim pulled up in the parking lot in front of Blair's building and parked. This time, the campus was crawling with students, and Jim counted himself lucky to have parked as close as he had. It was just after 6pm, so he was sure he'd find Blair waiting...and he did, once again behind a pile of papers and notebooks, with glasses on, pen in hand, and some of the more obnoxious music he enjoyed blaring from the radio at the opposite end of the room.
"Sandburg, do you mind?" Jim was forced to turn his extra-sensitive hearing down as far as he could when he entered the office. Blair looked up, a little startled, and grimaced.
"Oh, sorry." He hurried to the radio and shut it off. "It helps me get through these papers."
"Going deaf helps you?" Jim sat on a corner of a table beside Blair's cluttered desk, watching the younger man as he returned to the pile and began to straighten it up.
"Don't worry, Jim. We're not all as sensitive as you."
"Maybe you should be." Jim opened his senses again and began to receive a normal level of input from the immediate area. "You ready to hit the road, Chief?" Blair was still shuffling papers around, but he did seem to be back to his old self again.
"Yeah, ready when you are," he replied, glancing up at Jim, but still moving notebooks around.
"Come on, I'm tired." Jim slapped Blair's arm and pushed off of the table, walking towards the office door. He didn't need to glance back to know Blair was following, but he did anyway. He had snagged his coat from the peg on the wall and was pulling it on as he reached around to shut the door.
"No homework tonight?" Jim had expected Blair to bring his pack, that he had stuffed with papers and notebooks.
"Nah, man, I'm exhausted. It can wait for tomorrow. Gives me something to do while they take the tests."
They climbed the stairs and had to weave through a hallway full of students coming and going, visiting Professor's, hurrying to class, and just plain milling around. Jim had to stop twice to wait for Blair as he was asked questions from students on their way to the truck. By the time they got there, his partner looked ready to be going home, finally.
Blair climbed into the truck and sighed, pulling the door closed. "So, Jim, how'd it go today?"
Jim started the truck and glanced at his partner. He was sure he meant the day in general, and not his lunch with Beverly, but with Blair, one never knew what he had found out or how. "Pretty dull, Chief," he replied, putting the truck in gear. "Research stuff, you would have loved it."
Blair laughed a little and shook his head, but made no reply. Jim pulled into traffic and they headed home. Tomorrow morning would be his partner's first testimony. His first time on the stand, facing two attorney's, only one of which would be on his side. If Jim's own reaction to seeing Brackett again was any indication, he knew Blair would have it rough. His younger friend lived with his emotions out in the open, and Jim hated to see reality creep in so roughly. While it was true what Jim had said once, that you never get used to much of what you see on the job, at least he had grown more immune to the effects. Blair still had the luxury of seeing things from a fresh perspective, and it was that perspective that gave Jim his new-found approach to a lot of issues. If Lee Brackett killed that, then he would have won, after all.
Blair was quiet most of the drive home, and only seemed willing to answer questions Jim asked about his day or the classes. When they got back to the loft, Blair set about making dinner, and Jim left him alone for awhile, turning on the news. It would get harder before it was over, but it would be over...for good this time. During dinner, Blair seemed to perk up again, and asked Jim about the cases he was researching. He obliged, even knowing his partner wasn't actually paying attention. Jim had considered Beverly's suggestion of telling Blair about the nightmares, just to get them out in the open, and maybe end them. But, seeing his friend struggle just to get through dinner, with thoughts of what the morning held, was enough. Blair insisted on doing the dishes, so Jim busied himself with building a fire to shake the evening chill that so often came off the large windows.
He got the fire going then walked back to the kitchen as Blair was finishing up. "Hey, Chief, you want a beer?"
"Um, no thanks, Jim." He pushed the hair from his face with one hand and paused, mid-push for a long moment. "I think I'm gonna turn in."
Jim looked up from the refrigerator. "It's only 8:00."
"Yeah, well, it's been a busy day."
Jim sighed. "Listen, Blair, you know as well as I do, you're not going to get much sleep tonight. You barely made it through dinner without spacing off on me."
"Jim..."
"No, I think this is getting to be too much, and we need to talk about it." Jim watched him as they stood there. Blair was shaking his head, but making no move to go to his room.
The last thing Blair wanted to do was talk about it. But he needed to talk about it. He needed to talk about it until it became a distant memory, until the nightmare was over and they could go back to their lives. Even Jim's newly discovered, heightened hearing limits hadn't been explored yet. The success they had when Jim willed his sense of hearing to piggy-back onto his sense of sight...Blair had definite ideas on how to test that new ability. He had planned, when he was finished giving tests, to get Jim into the lab, and see what they could do. But now, all he could think about was sitting up there, in front of everyone, and being grilled by Brackett's attorney. Blair wasn't unaccustomed to having all eyes on him, as it happened every class he taught. But the students were there to learn, not to judge. And Lee Brackett was never in the group, watching him. There was a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back into awareness. Back into the awareness that he had once again been self-absorbed.
"Come on, why don't you make some tea or something, and we'll talk."
Blair sighed and nodded. "Yeah, okay." He reached out and flipped on the gas, checking to make sure there was water in the pot he kept there. Jim smiled slightly, nodding his head, and walked out to the living room to sit on one of the couches. It didn't take long for the water to boil, so Blair pulled down a pot and found his best relaxation tea, then turned off the gas and filled the pot, taking his time unintentionally.
"I had lunch with Beverly today." Jim's voice was in such a perfectly conversational tone, it took Blair a few seconds to realize what he had said.
"Really?" He carried his cup to the living room and sat down in the chair, facing the fire. He was not going to worry. He was not going to worry. "What's up?"
"Nothing new. It's going as well as she thought, with Kostov coming in tomorrow afternoon. His testimony alone will do a lot of damage."
"And the other cases? She can't use them, can she?" The Ebola virus scare, which should have kept him in prison for life, or the kidnaping of him and Jim that was supposed to have left Brackett dead at the bottom of a waterfall. None of that mattered in this case.
"No. The CIA has a black flag up." Jim took a drink, then glanced at the fire that had taken off nicely. "Don't worry about it, Chief."
"Well I am worried about it, Jim." There. He'd said it. Oh God, he said it! Maybe he should have gotten a beer, instead of tea that was still too hot to hide behind.
"I know," Jim replied, his voice quiet. "That's why I wanted to talk about it."
"Look, Jim, I'll be fine."
"I know you will."
"I just...I just wasn't ready to deal with this. Not now." Not ever. He did need a beer, after all. He got up, then motioned towards the kitchen before Jim could protest his leaving. Once there, he dumped the tea, and pulled out a bottle, discarding the cap into the trash before returning to the couch.
"Sandburg, I know it's hard. It never gets easy, and there's no such thing as a sure-fire case, no matter how prepared you, or anyone else is."
Blair took a long drink, listening to Jim. That was the first time his partner admitted that this case, as sure as it might seem, could still go horribly wrong. It wasn't what Blair wanted to hear. But, he knew it hadn't been easy for Jim to admit, either. "So there's a chance he'll get off."
Jim shook his head, and leaned forward on the couch, both arms outstretched in his explanation pose. "No, Chief, not get off. There are too many charges against him. I just want you to understand, that no matter what happens in there....No matter what they may say, or imply, you're not alone in this. I'll be right there. And Beverly will be in control. You just do what she said, keep your answers short, and to the point, and don't let anything upset you."
Blair nodded. "Thanks, Jim." He took another drink, a long one, and a little voice inside his head chastised him for using chemicals to calm his nerves. He ignored it. "When you met Beverly, did you go in?"
Jim seemed to understand what he was asking. "Yes, I saw him."
Blair nodded, raising his eyebrows as he glanced at the floor in front of him.
"It wasn't easy, Chief," he said. "But it was gratifying to watch him get his day in court. You'll be fine."
Blair nodded again, silently mouthing his agreement. He would have said something then, but the phone rang. Jim got up to answer it, and Blair leaned back on the couch, trying to force his mind into a soothing mantra. Trying to think of anything but tomorrow.
"Yeah, Mike, what have you got?"
Blair looked up for a moment, then let his eyes rest on the fire, allowing the dancing flames to serve as a focus while he blurred his thoughts. He felt his heart rate slow to an even, resting pace. Felt his breathing fall into a rhythm. He watched as the flames jumped, casting a warm glow in the darkened room. Somewhere, deep inside his mind, a numbness began to spread. Before he understood what was happening, a feeling of detachment had come over him, and he felt as though he was outside of himself, out of control, and yet oddly quiet. The flames were dancing before his eyes, and he couldn't look away. Suddenly, one of the flames stepped out of the fireplace, and to his frozen horror, walked toward him as he sat, on the couch, completely unable to move. He wanted to shout---to scream for Jim, but he couldn't move--couldn't speak. And the flame--the flame was coming closer!! The flame had a face--it was coming closer and he couldn't move! This isn't happening! This is NOT happening! God--Oh God--not again!! This can't be happening! He tried to move, tried with all his might to move his head, and look at Jim. If he could look away---look away from the flame--it would stop. The illusion would stop. There!---God, it dropped!!---It fell through the floor Jim!! Jim, they're coming!! NO! This was not real---it was NOT real!!
Blair couldn't move, couldn't scream, and two more were coming out of the fire!! Two more---coming at him! WALKING towards him! Dammit Jim!! It's a nightmare---right? Just--Just a nightmare!! He was asleep---that was it--he was asleep and this was one of the nightmares! Oh God, where did they go? The two flames---they were here---where did they go?! Down?! They went down again--just like before when they--NO! This wasn't real!! It couldn't be real!! Oh God!! Three more---three more are coming--they're coming out---JIM!!
"Sandburg!"
They're coming out and going down---Just like before! Down to the street---No, the garage---No, he was home--he was home--this wasn't real!
"Sandburg!!"
A gun---get a gun---stop them!! Jim can't stop them---You have to be his eyes!! The gun was in his hand--squeeze it!!
"Sandburg!!"
A violent shake snapped his neck back and he was finally able to move, to see Jim standing over him, clutching both of his arms, shaking him out of the trance. There was something wet on his hand, and he groggily gazed down, seeing moisture mixed with blood, dripping from his left hand. They were gone---It was gone.
"Sandburg, what the hell happened to you?!" Jim was still holding his arms, his voice raised in a desperate attempt to break the hallucination.
"I'm okay....I'm okay." Blair knew his voice was shaking as much as Jim was shaking him. His eyes darted back to the fire, and Jim moved to block his view, forcing him to meet his eyes.
"What the hell was that?!"
Blair took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. The flames---they were still there! He opened them again quickly, focusing on Jim instead. "It was just...A flashback, I think."
"Your heart is racing. You were totally zoned out for nearly three minutes, Chief." Jim was still blocking his view of the fireplace, and still holding his arms. "The doctor said this would happen. Is this the first time?"
Blair nodded, unable to speak again yet. It had been so real! He knew he was to expect flashbacks, but---It had been so real! He could still see it---Still see them. If he closed his eyes, they were right there, waiting---Watching! And Jim couldn't see them---couldn't see---Stop it!
Jim let go of his arms, but stayed in-between him and the fire. "Give me your hand."
Blair looked at his left hand again, noticing the blood there and the bits of beer bottle fragments. "Oh, man, Jim I'm sorry." There was glass and blood mixed with beer on the rug beside the couch. Jim reached out and took the injured hand that Blair wasn't offering up.
"Come on, Chief, we gotta get this cleaned up." Jim pulled him off the couch and he didn't resist.
Idly, Blair thought they were going to clean up the mess, but instead, Jim led him to the table and forced him down, then went to the bathroom and retrieved the first aid kit. Blair had no energy left, and didn't even feel the cut Jim was cleaning out. He was exhausted! The visions still clear as day in his head. Visions that had been so real to him before. They were just as real---just as terrifying--the second time around. Only this time, the nightmare wasn't followed by a four day stint in intensive care. Small wonder, considering the racing heart and complete lack of strength he was now feeling.
"...scared me half to death, partner." Jim was saying. "Is that what it's like for you, when I zone out?"
"Yeah, I guess so, yeah." Only your zone outs don't scare the shit out of you. "Ow!" He was coming back to his senses, and now felt very clearly the cut Jim was rubbing salve into.
"It's not too bad. Here, hold this."
Blair took hold of the gauze Jim had placed over the cut in his palm and held it in place while he unrolled several inches of gauze strip and some tape. "I'll clean up the mess."
"No, you'll go to bed. I'll clean it up." Jim began to wrap the gauze around Blair's hand.
"Jim..."
"Blair, you're pale, you're exhausted, and that little episode of yours was enough to give me nightmares." He finished with the gauze and applied the tape. "No arguments."
He wanted to argue. He was afraid to close his eyes now...afraid they'd still be there, waiting, watching. Was it going to be like that every time? So real? And what had triggered it? Staring at the fire? The stress he was letting himself fall victim to? Or just a random occurrence, that could repeat at any time, for any reason? God, he was tired!
"Jim, I'm sorry."
"Don't, Blair." Jim had picked up the kit and returned it, and was now gathering some cleaning materials from a cupboard in the kitchen. "It's not your fault." He walked to the living room and began to carefully gather the glass fragments. "Are you okay now? Do you need to talk about it?"
"You mean like you've been talking about your nightmares?" Blair shot back. Instantly, he regretted it. He brought up a hand and shook his head tiredly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
Jim sighed. "Look, Chief, I was going to talk to you about it tonight, until..." He stood and walked to the kitchen with the glass, then stepped over to the table where Blair still sat. "I don't think you're taking enough of your own advice, here. Stress can do a lot to the mind and the body, and even more when you deny it's there."
Blair rolled his eyes just slightly. Those words did sound a bit familiar. It was just easier to see stress and its related problems in someone else, instead of himself. "Yeah."
"When this is all over, the nightmares will stop. For both of us." He patted Blair on the back and returned to the mess on the rug. "We'll talk about them then, okay? Now, get some sleep. If you think you can."
No. "Yeah, thanks, Jim." Blair slowly got up, glancing back once more at the mess Jim was cleaning up. He was too exhausted now to offer any more help, and the visions hadn't faded yet. Getting any closer to that fireplace wasn't something he was ready to do, so he turned and walked to his room.
"Sandburg." Jim looked up. "It'll all be over soon."
"Thanks, Jim." Blair entered his room and shut the door, rubbing his face and pushing his hair back as he did so. He was sure he wouldn't sleep, and was even afraid to try, but he was also too exhausted to do anything else. By the time he climbed out of his clothes, and reluctantly got into bed, he could hear the quiet sounds of a movie coming from the living room. Jim was obviously staying up for a while. Blair lay down and took a deep, cleansing breath, then let it out slowly and focused on the faint sounds from the television in an attempt not to see the dancing golden fire people that remained on the inside of each eyelid, looking back at him.
As convinced as he was that sleep would elude him, the next thing Blair was aware of was the sound of his alarm going off beside the bed. He rolled over and slapped it, a sensitivity to Jim's hearing had given Blair good reflexes in the morning. Realization slowly came back to him, as did the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. Great, Jim had gotten up before him again. He climbed out of bed and took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. His visions hadn't come back, once he had fallen asleep. The last thing he could recall was listening to a commercial about aspirin, or some such thing. He did feel better, after a night's sleep he hadn't thought he'd get, and when he opened the door to walk to the bathroom, he actually felt like he could get through this with some semblance of dignity after all. Jim was upstairs, presumably getting dressed, so Blair went to the bathroom and prepared for his day. He hurried, but by the time he was dressed and coming back out of the bedroom again, Jim was standing in the kitchen, talking on the phone while pouring a cup of coffee. Blair looked at him questioningly and Jim handed him the cup and motioned with his chin to the table, then returned to his conversation with Simon.
Blair accepted the coffee and walked to the table, noticing for the first time the bakery bag there, filled with fresh bagels. How long had he been up?
"Hey, Chief." Jim set the phone down and poured himself a cup of coffee.
"How long have you been up?" Blair reached into the bag and retrieved a plain bagel.
"Just an hour. Got those down stairs, at the new bakery." Jim sat down and pulled one out. "Thought it'd be a nice change from eggs."
Blair nodded, ignoring the cream cheese and simply pulled the bagel apart with his fingers, eating it in small bites. He realized with surprise that his hands weren't shaking, but his insides seemed to be. He was not going to be a child about this. "So, you figure a couple hours of waiting, and answering some questions, then it's over?" Yes, the voice was steady!
"About that," Jim replied, smearing cream cheese liberally over his now-sliced bagel. "When's your first class today?"
Damn, he hadn't even thought about the tests he had to give today. "First one at 1:00, then one more right after that." He'd eaten about half the bagel, and was beginning to feel disinterested in it. "Can you give me a lift after the...after we're done?"
"No problem, Chief. I might even take the afternoon off, after I talk to Simon this morning. I can only take so much paperwork and reports." He smiled, then popped the last of his bagel in his mouth and checked his watch.
Blair chuckled, nodding his head. Jim had once said having a Guide around the Station was the best thing to happen to his paperwork backlog. Blair didn't mind filling in the blanks on some of the reports that Jim would rough out, or going downstairs for the forensics reports and files. And he had become quite good at forging Jim's signature in the evidence lock-up. Research was Blair's field, and doing the research for Jim helped him gain an even greater understanding of Jim's work, and even Jim himself. He was just glad, for purely selfish reasons, that during his finals, and this trial, Jim was giving his current case load to Mike Jenkins. Blair wouldn't miss anything. He'd like to miss this entire trial, but...
"You ready, Chief?" Jim had pushed away from the table and was picking up the cell phone to put in his coat pocket.
"As I'll ever be." Blair took one last drink of coffee, then stood and went for his coat. Jim seemed unconcerned that the remains of breakfast stayed on the table, and Blair knew stalling for time wouldn't work in this situation, so he followed his partner out the door and down to the truck. The trip to the courthouse was as quick as a trip to the dentist, making a twenty minute drive pass by in seconds. They parked across the street in Jim's usual spot inside the Precinct garage and walked across the street to the courthouse. Blair was convinced this was all happening too quickly. He had planned to use the ride over to work out a little calming mantra in his head, and figure out a way to walk into that courtroom, where Lee Brackett would be, and not make an ass of himself in front of Jim by bolting out the door. But there was no more time. They were almost to the courtroom door now. Blair took a deep breath and looked up at Jim. He'd have to follow his partner's lead, and rely on that to get him through.
Jim reached for the door handle and turned back to Blair. Without a word, he placed a hand on Blair's shoulder for a moment, then opened the door wide enough for both of them to step through quietly and find seats in the half-filled room.
Jim made eye contact with Beverly and nodded, then ushered Blair into a bench two rows behind her. His partner seemed to be holding up well enough so far, but it was going to get harder before it got better. Jim made sure he was sitting between Blair and the isle, keeping as much of a buffer between his friend and Lee Brackett as he could. He had spent the better part of the night keeping focused on Blair's heartbeat and breathing pattern, setting his own internal alarm to go off if there was the slightest change from the room below his. Jim had half-expected Blair to have a nightmare again that night, especially after the incident in the living room. At the hospital, they had told Blair to expect flashbacks, and that was the first one according to Blair, but Jim hadn't expected it to be like that.
One minute he was discussing a case with Mike on the phone, and Blair seemed fine. The next minute his partner's heart was racing, his breathing was shallow, and he wouldn't respond to anything Jim said, or shouted. He just sat there, eyes transfixed on the fireplace, with a look of terror in his eyes. When Jim was unable to get through, even with a touch on his arm, he started to panic, himself. Then, a look of sheer hate appeared across the younger man's face, and Blair's hand clenched so tightly the bottle broke in his hand. That's when Jim knew something had to be done, now, to break the trance he was in. Blair had never said Jim's zone-outs were like that, and Jim tended to think they weren't. His partner could always bring him out with a touch, Jim had to shake Blair, several times.
Voices down a hallway perked his senses and Jim focused on the door at the side of the courtroom. They were bringing Brackett in, and the judge was also preparing to enter from the Chamber door. Jim switched focus to Blair sitting beside him, keeping track of his heart rate and breathing, without looking at him. He could almost feel Blair tense up when the door opened, and Lee Brackett stepped through, accompanied by two uniformed officers. As he approached his attorney, he glanced around the room, and quickly spotted Jim and Blair. Jim returned an icy stare, then looked away, towards the judge who was just now coming in.
"All rise," the bailiff began. "The honorable Judge Franklin Claymore presiding." Jim and Blair stood, along with everyone else, and waited for the judge to call the room to order, then they sat down. Brackett was no longer looking at them, so Jim quickly glanced at Blair. He was looking straight ahead, and wore a look of casual interest that Jim could see was faked. Outwardly, he seemed calm enough, but Jim could see the minute shaking of his hands, hear the occasional skipped beat in his heart. Blair was doing a good job hiding it from the rest of the room, but not from Jim.
They listened as the lawyers began the business of getting the trial started, and the judge made a ruling now and again. Jim knew instinctively what was important and what wasn't, having been to more of these now than he could count. Blair seemed transfixed on every word, but Jim knew from instinct, or maybe something else, that he was numb inside, and most likely wasn't hearing a single word. Jim wanted nothing more than to take the stand for his friend, keep him from having to go through any more stress. But most of all, keep him from having to sit up there and face Lee Brackett again.
"I'd like to call my first witness, your honor," Beverly was saying.
This was it, time to get the ball rolling. Jim glanced at Blair as Beverly called his name, and gave him a look of encouragement, then stood and walked to the witness box. He took the oath, then sat in the familiar seat after declaring his full name and occupation. Brackett was watching him, but Jim had no trouble keeping an even expression on his face, and his eyes on Beverly. His emotions were on automatic now, as they fell into place deep inside.
"Detective, can you tell the court where you were on the night in question?" Beverly was standing in front of the jury, glancing at them occasionally.
"I was on stakeout, at the corner of 16th and Chester, downtown."
"And was there anyone with you?"
"Yes, Captain Banks."
"Captain Simon Banks, of Major Crimes?"
"Yes."
Beverly nodded, then moved forward, walking slowly in front of the judge. "You received a phone call during this stakeout, did you not?"
"Yes, I did."
"And can you tell us what, if anything, was unusual about his phone call?"
"There was no voice on the other end, just a message scrolling across the display."
"And what did that message say?"
"It said 'The game has begun. You have 15 minutes to get home and make your move,' nothing more." Jim forced his eyes not to connect with Lee Brackett as he repeated the message that had sent him racing for the loft.
"That sounds pretty cryptic, Detective. What did it mean?"
"Objection, your honor." Brackett's attorney, a man Jim knew as Leroy Cutter, stood to emphasize his case. "There could be a million interpretations for a message like that."
"I'll rephrase the question, your honor."
"Go ahead," The Judge replied.
"Detective, what did that message mean to you?"
"It meant Lee Brackett was back."
"And why did you reach that conclusion?"
Jim glanced quickly at Blair as he watched Beverly pace slowly back towards the jury. "The game is an old CIA reference, and Brackett has used it before. Also, sending messages over a cellular phone like that is relatively uncommon. Something Lee Brackett would do." Jim paused, shooting Lee a quick look. "Also, my partner was uncharacteristically absent that evening, and I had been unable to contact him."
"And after the phone call, what did you do?"
"Captain Banks called for backup, to replace us at the scene, and we drove to my home."
"You left the stakeout prior to your backup arriving? Is that standard procedure, Detective?"
Jim clenched his jaw momentarily and glanced out towards his partner, whose eyes had just shot to the floor, his face flushing . "No, it's not. I was afraid for my partner's life, which seemed more immediate to me at the time. The stakeout had so far been unsuccessful, and backup was on the way." He didn't really feel the need to explain, but he understood what Beverly was getting at. Maybe it didn't sound like standard procedure, and maybe he should have been reprimanded for his actions. But he also knew, if Blair were in danger again, Jim wouldn't hesitate to take immediate action.
"You were that sure that the message you received meant your partner, Blair Sandburg, was in immediate danger?"
"Yes, I was."
"And when you reached your apartment, what did you find?"
"At first, nothing. Captain Banks and I entered the loft and searched quickly, then the television in the loft came on. A tape recording began to playback automatically."
"At tape recording of who?"
"Lee Brackett."
"And what was on the tape?"
"Brackett. He was holding Blair hostage. He said he had business in town, and had decided to finish the game he had started earlier. He said I had to find Blair in time, or he might die."
"Die? From what, Detective?"
Jim's jaw clenched again, tightly. "He held up a vial, and a syringe, then proceeded to explain what the drug he had was capable of." Jim paused, his eyes darting to Blair and back. His partner was keeping his eyes fixed on something near the floor, in front of where Jim was seated. "He then injected Blair with the drug."
"And then what happened?"
"He said the tape we were watching had been made 20 minutes ago, and that I had another 15 minutes to find Blair. Then the tape shut off."
"And then what did you do?"
Jim kept his eyes on Beverly, trying to force the remembered terror back down where he could control it. "I realized Blair was in the building, by the pipes I had seen on the tape. The Captain and I ran downstairs, to the basement, and found him."
"And what did you find?"
Jim took a breath. "I found Blair. He was dying." He glanced at Brackett who was watching Jim's every word with a look of complete calm. "Captain Banks and I rushed him to the hospital."
"Detective, when you were at the hospital, did Captain Banks receive word from the stakeout?"
"Yes. The man we were waiting for had been killed, along with the person he was meeting."
"What was the time frame, between yourself and Captain Banks leaving the stake out, and the relief officers' arrival?"
"No more than 10 minutes."
"So, theoretically, it would be possible for someone to make a phone call, to your cellular phone, telling you to be home in 20 minutes...then as you drove away from the stakeout, enter the house you were watching, kill the person there, as well as someone who had possibly just arrived, and be gone in less than the 10 minutes it took for your backup to arrive?"
"Objection, your honor. Calls for speculation."
"Your honor, Detective Ellison is trained in these matters. I think he could judge time frames in a simple theoretical scenario."
"Overruled. The witness will answer the question."
"Yes, it's very possible," Jim replied.
"And the death of the man you were waiting for, how did that affect the case you were working on at the time?"
Jim paused for a split second, half expecting Brackett's attorney to object. "Vince Delaney was a key witness to an extortion and money laundering case against a man named Kostov. When he died, our case at the time was ruined." He glanced at Blair and found his partner finally looking up, watching him. "We later learned that Brackett had been hired by Kostov to commit the murders."
"Objection, your honor."
There it was. Jim looked at Blair while the lawyers hashed it out, focusing in on his heartrate. He seemed outwardly to be holding up well, but Jim could still detect a fast, occasionally skipping beat, coupled with the slightest shaking of his hands.
"Sustained."
Jim brought himself back to the subject at hand, and realized the Judge had ruled against the question.
"I have no further questions at this time, your honor, but I reserve the right to recall the witness."
"Mr. Cutter."
Jim watched Brackett's attorney stand, remaining behind the desk.
"Detective Ellison, what happened to the supposed tape you and Captain Banks claim to have seen?"
"It was destroyed."
"How?"
Jim flexed his jaw muscle. "It was apparently exposed to acid. The FBI crime lab is working on what's left."
"Expose to acid? And where did this take place?"
"In the evidence room, at the Station." Jim remained non-plused at the intimation.
"And did either you, or Captain Banks, witness in person Mr. Brackett attacking or killing anyone?"
Jim's jaw spasmed again, harder this time. He knew these games and what they were designed to do, and he knew better than to let it get to him, but it was. "No."
"Thank you, Detective. No further questions."
"The witness may step down."
Jim stood, and with one final glance at Brackett, returned to the bench next to Blair. As he sat down, Beverly called for her next witness. Blair stood without hesitation and walked out of the bench and towards the witness box. Jim gave him points for putting on a good show, but he knew the younger man was shaking to pieces inside. He could almost feel Blair's trepidation as he took the oath, stated his full name and occupation, and sat down.
"Mr. Sandburg, several months ago, you were attacked and abducted outside the home you share with Detective Ellison, is that correct?"
"Yes." Blair's answer was short and clear, his voice steady.
"Can you tell us what happened that night?" Beverly had approached the witness box and her voice lowered, exuding calmness and sympathy. Jim could see his partner respond to it, and he kept his eyes locked on her.
"I had locked my keys inside the car, and was standing beside it, when I saw someone coming up behind me. Before I could turn around, he grabbed me, and covered my nose and mouth with a cloth soaked in chloroform."
"Did you get a chance to see this person's face before you lost consciousness?"
"Yes."
"And is that person in this courtroom?" Beverly stepped aside slightly so Blair could have a clear view of the entire room.
Jim watched as his partner flinched, barely perceptibly. "Yes, that's him." Blair pointed at Brackett, but lowered his hand quickly, and returned his eyes to Beverly.
"Please let the record show that the witness has identified the accused."
"So noted."
"When you regained consciousness, where were you?"
Blair cleared his throat. "I didn't know at the time. I was in the basement of our building."
"And were you alone?"
"No. He was...Brackett was there, with me." Hang on Blair, you're doing fine.
"Could you leave?"
"No, my hands were tied...to a pipe, above my head."
Beverly moved forward, until she was blocking Blair's view of Lee. "Can you tell me what happened? What did Mr. Brackett do?"
Blair cleared his throat again, and his eyes nearly darted to Jim, but he seemed to force them to stop at the floor instead. Jim mentally willed his partner calm, trying to impart something, anything, that would help him through this. The memory was hard for Jim to bring to words, what must it be like for Blair?
"He...kept me there, while he set up some video equipment." Blair paused and his eyes again darted up, towards the defense table, but Beverly was still standing in the way, preventing Blair from seeing Lee Brackett, only his attorney. "Then, he used a cell phone to make some kind of call."
"Some kind of call?" Beverly asked. "You mean, he didn't just use the phone to call someone?"
"No, he entered some numbers, waited a few seconds, and entered several more. Then he hung up."
"Did he tell you what he was doing?"
Blair swallowed. "No, not exactly."
"What did he say, exactly?"
"He said...He said it was time to send my partner a message. Then he used the phone, and when he was finished, he said he would know when Jim returned." Jim felt a sudden, aching pain in his chest as the memory of Blair lying helpless and dying on the wet floor flashed across his mind.
"And then what happened?" Beverly moved closer, still keeping between Blair's line of sight and Lee Brackett. Her voice had softened even more, and Jim mentally applauded her for it, shaking off the disturbing vision.
"He turned on the video camera and stepped in front of it. I don't remember what he said. I just..." Blair cleared his throat again softly. "I just remember the needle, he injected something into my neck."
"And then what did he do?"
This time Blair's eyes found Jim's and he tried to hold them, but his partner was too terrified with the memory to stay, and he looked again at Beverly. "He left." As steady as that voice may have sounded, Jim could hear the shaking behind it. "I don't remember very much after that."
"So, Mr. Brackett accosted you in the parking lot, took you to the basement of your building, tied you up, held you against your will, injected you with an unknown chemical, and then left. Is that right, Mr. Sandburg?"
Blair nodded dully, then remembered to answer out loud. "Yes."
"Thank you, Mr. Sandburg." Beverly smiled, then turned to the judge. "I have no further questions, your honor."
"Mr. Cutter."
Jim looked at Brackett's attorney, watched him stand, and walk towards Blair. His partner's eyes seemed to be glazing over slightly, then he blinked and tried to focus on the man approaching him. Stay with me, partner.
"Mr. Sandburg. Have you ever taken drugs?"
Blair's eyebrows rose, as did the hair on the back of Jim's neck. "No," he answered simply.
"I have here," Cutler produced a file folder he had been carrying. "The lab analysis of the chemicals found in your system that night at the hospital." He opened the file and glanced at it. While it was open, Jim focused tightly so that he could see the words written there. He read as quickly as he could, then realized where the man was going with it.
"The report shows that the general make-up of the drug found in your system was custom made, and showed a remarkable resemblance to LSD. Much like the designer drugs so popular today."
Blair said nothing and Jim once again willed him to stay in control. He really was doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances. He'd have to remember to tell Blair when this was all over how well he had done. If he could just get through this next part.
"You've never taken drugs, you say?"
"Objection, your honor." Beverly stood. "Asked and answered."
"Sustained. Move along, Mr. Cutter."
Beverly sat back down and Mr. Cutter paced closer to the jury. "Mr. Sandburg, several weeks ago, you spent 5 days in the hospital. Can you tell us why?"
"Objection, your honor." Beverly stood again. "That can't possibly have any bearing on this case."
"Goes to character, your honor."
"Approach."
Jim didn't have to focus to hear what the lawyers and judge were discussing. What he had to focus on, was not listening to the private conversation. He looked at Blair, trying to get the younger man to meet his eyes, but he wouldn't. Why?
"I'll allow it. The witness will answer the question." The attorneys both stepped away from the judge's box. Beverly returned to her chair and Mr. Cutter stepped back to the jury.
"Mr. Sandburg, how did you come to be in the hospital?"
"I was exposed to a chemical, at the Station."
Good, Blair. Very good.
"You then proceeded to the police garage, with a gun, and fired several shots, some of which came dangerously close to the officers in the garage at the time. Is that correct?"
It wasn't you, Blair, it was the drug. "Yes." Blair was able to answer without hesitation.
"The police report, which has been entered as Defense exhibit K, your honor, states that at the time, your partner, Detective Ellison, was working on a case involving designer drugs. Is this correct?"
"Yes."
"And were you with the Detective when he went undercover and made contact with the dealers in question, obtaining a bag of this drug?"
"Yes, I was." Jim suddenly realized where this line of questioning was going. He had to resist the urge to jump up and answer the implications Mr. Cutter was about to make.
"And can you tell us, Mr. Sandburg, what happened to that bag that Detective Ellison acquired?"
"Objection, your honor." Blair's face had gone pale, and his eyes finally met Jim's. A look of confusion mixed with sudden realization. "Mr. Sandburg is not a police officer. Speculating on what may or may not have happened to evidence is not his responsibility."
"Your honor, there were only two representatives of the Cascade PD at the scene at the time. The report states that a bag of the drug, Golden, was obtained, but then there is no mention of the bag again, and it was never entered in as evidence. Now are we to believe someone of Detective Ellison's background was responsible for the missing evidence?"
"Mr. Cutter is practically accusing Mr. Sandburg of taking the drugs, your honor."
"Objection sustained. Let's get back on track here, ladies and gentlemen."
During their exchange, Jim could hear Blair's heart rate increase, his breathing get that much more shallow. He glanced at the jury, a mixture of men and women of varying ages. It was hard to judge what they were thinking, but whether or not the defense was allowed to continue in that vein, the damage was already done. Jim had on more than one occasion become irritated at people who made assumptions based on Blair's age, or the way he looked or dressed. He'd even had to chastise himself for his own first impression of the younger man when they met.
"Mr. Sandburg, you say you were drugged, brought to the basement, then drugged again, is that correct?"
Blair cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to meet the attorney's. "Yes." Good Blair, keep your answers short.
"And your memory of that time is rather spotty, is that correct?"
"No, I remember it. The time in the hospital, I don't recall much of that."
"I see. So it would be safe to say that this drug affected your memory?"
Blair glanced at the judge for an instant. "I don't know that, no. The trauma affected my memory. I was unconscious most of the time in the hospital."
"I see. And during that time, did my client ever approach you?"
"No."
"During that time, did my client phone you, or Detective Ellison?"
"No."
"At what time did you again see Mr. Brackett?"
"At the warehouse." Blair's eyes darted to Lee Brackett, whom he now had a clear view of, and for a moment, fixated there. Jim looked at Blair, trying to force his eyes off of Brackett and back to him. If he could keep his partner focused, let him know he wasn't there alone...
"At the warehouse. And who else was at the warehouse?"
Blair forced his eyes away. Jim could see the effort it took to remove his gaze and look back at the attorney. "Jim...Detective Ellison, and several SWAT officers."
"Several SWAT officers? And why were they there?"
"To...they were there to apprehend him."
"Him? By Him, do you mean my client?"
"Yes."
"So, is it safe to say that there were several armed police officers, waiting to catch my client in a trap that had been set for him? Is it safe to say my client had cause to fear for his life?"
"Objection, your honor. Is Defense asking or stating?"
"Sustained."
"I have no further questions, your honor."
"Redirect?"
"Yes, your honor." Beverly stood, but remained behind the table. "Mr. Sandburg, did you inject yourself in the neck with what turned out to be a potentially deadly mix of chemicals?"
"No." Jim could hear the quavering in Blair's voice increase, but he still didn't think anyone else could.
"And did you purposefully ingest a near-lethal amount of the drug called Golden?"
"No."
"No further questions."
"The witness may step down."
Blair stood almost immediately, but Jim could see he was holding onto the rail in front of the seat for as long as he could, to prevent himself from shaking. It was all he could do not to walk past the attorneys' tables and retrieve the younger man. As Blair passed Brackett's seat, Jim heard his heart skip a beat. He stood and moved to the edge of the bench, took Blair by the arm as he approached and guided him out of the courtroom. Jim didn't stop until they were in the hall and walking towards an empty conference room. Blair hadn't said a word, had just allowed Jim to guide him, but he was shaking, visibly now.
"In here." Jim opened a door and gently pushed Blair into the small room, then he turned and shut the door, locking it. "Sit down, Chief."
"God! What was that?!" Blair didn't sit, but instead began to pace the small room. "Jim, he's gonna get off. He's gonna get off."
"Sandburg, sit down." God, he was falling apart. He'd made it through in there and now he was going to fall victim to all the stress and crap he'd been through.
"Who was on trial in there, Jim?"
"Sandburg." Jim walked to him, put a hand on Blair's shoulder, and pushed down until he relented and sat. Blair would have gotten up the instant Jim removed his hand, so he didn't. "Calm down, it'll be all right."
Blair was shaking his head, a definite look of disagreement on his face. "No. No. It's not going to be all right, Jim."
"Blair..."
"No, Jim. It's not going to be all right."
Blair was shaking now, visibly and uncontrollably. He kept shaking his head, and the muscles in his shoulder, under Jim's restraining hand, were incredibly tense with unreleased anger. "Blair, take it easy."
"How, Jim? How am I supposed to take it easy?"
Jim sighed, and moved around behind Blair, holding him down with a hand on each shoulder. Blair was a ball of uncontrolled energy, and would have sprung to his feet and paced the room if allowed. Jim knew he'd have to hold him still, if he was to get through that confused mind. "Listen, Chief, that was typical lawyer guerilla tactics in there." Jim moved his hands and began to massage Blair's shoulders, holding him in the chair while trying to work out some of the tension there. Blair was still shaking his head, and didn't seem to notice he was even sitting down.
"Jim..."
"Blair, listen." Jim continued to try and work out the tension balling up Blair's neck and shoulders. "It's not over, not in there. What happened was typical, and you have to trust Beverly to know how to handle it." He had stopped shaking his head, but now his foot was bobbing up and down with uncontrolled energy. Jim knew if he wasn't there, Blair could have run a marathon with that much tension.
"I dunno, man."
"I do know. The trial's not over yet. Kostov is coming in to testify today. I know what it felt like up there..."
"No, you don't know, Jim." Blair turned quickly and with enough force to knock Jim's hands away, then he stood. "You don't know. I was on trial in there!"
Jim reached out and grabbed Blair by the shoulders, holding him in place. "Yes, Blair, I do know." He kept his voice calm, but gripped his shoulders in an effort to get his point through. "I do know. It's happened to me, as it's happened to everyone who has ever gone up there. It's what they do, Chief, when they don't have a case or a leg to stand on." There was anger in his partner's eyes, but it was an anger not directed at him. Jim sighed. "Listen, there's no way anyone's going to fall for you having done this to yourself. You could no more have injected that drug into your own neck than I or anyone else could have. And the Golden was never your fault. We've been over that, and it's all in the report, what really happened."
"Yeah, but Jim..."
"But nothing, Chief. Listen to me." Blair's gaze had fallen to the floor and Jim waited until he looked up again. "It's going to be all right." He kept his hands on Blair, and tried to force his partner to maintain eye contact, so he'd know Blair was listening. "It was hell in there, I know. But you did good. You did very good. You kept your cool, didn't get angry or upset, and answered every question just right." Blair glanced around the room for a moment, as if trying to recall the last 30 minutes. The trembling Jim could feel was slowly subsiding, so he released his hold on Blair's shoulders and stood in front of him. "I was proud of you in there, Sandburg. You were calm, direct, and never once flinched."
Blair looked at Jim, eyebrows raised. "You're kidding, right? Jim, I was scared to death in there."
Jim smiled, shaking his head slightly. There were times, like right now, when the self-assured, confident Blair Sandburg was so in need of reassurance, Jim had to wonder who would have given him the support he needed if Jim wasn't there. "It didn't show, Chief, trust me." He sighed, then glanced at his watch. "Why don't we get some lunch, then I'll drive you to the University."
Blair nodded, slowly pushing the hair back that had fallen into his face. His hands were still shaking, but it was hardly noticeable. "Thanks, Jim."
"No problem, Chief." Jim patted Blair's arm and directed him towards the door.
"No, I mean it, Jim." Blair walked, but turned to look at him before opening the door. "Thanks."
Jim nodded, pulling the door open. "You're welcome."
Blair reached over to unlock the door, then noticed Jim had turned off the engine and was getting out as well. He gave his partner a puzzled glance.
"I thought I'd hang out here, and wait for you." Jim said in reply to the look. He got out and shut the door. "No sense in going back to the Station just to avoid paperwork for two hours and come back here."
"Jim, I can always get a ride home." Blair swung his pack over one shoulder and walked to the front of the truck. Oh God, he probably thinks I'm going to freak out again.
"No problem, Chief." Jim walked closer and lowered his voice in a conspiratorial manner. "To tell you the truth, I need a place to hide out, maybe catch up on some reading. The paperwork can wait."
"Wait for me, you mean?"
Jim nodded, smiling as though the thought had just then occurred to him. "Yeah."
Blair laughed, then started to walk towards the building the housed his office. "What about Simon?"
Jim was still smiling. "He's in meetings with the Commissioner all day. He'll never miss me."
Right, Jim. Well, if that was what he wanted Blair to think, then he'd play along. During the drive to the school, Blair had calmed down quite a bit, but he still wasn't able to get the visions out of his mind. Visions that the lawyers had forced back to the forefront. Visions Blair had thought he was rid of. He tried to filter through the flashes, and find something in them he could hold onto, to force the rest of it away. In each one, there was only one constant, one thing he could try to grasp. Jim was there. He'd been there with him every step of the way when Brackett had returned. He'd been there when Blair had ingested the Golden, and he'd stayed with him the entire time Blair was in the hospital, spending all day and most of the nights after Blair had regained consciousness. He later learned from the nurses that Jim had stayed with him even when he was on the respirator, leaving only once with Simon to complete the case. And there he'd been again, helping Blair through the trial, and more importantly, its aftermath. Not only helping him, but being proud of him. Blair's biggest concern, aside from getting to and from the witness chair without falling apart, had been making sure he did nothing to embarrass Jim. The man was a rock, and never let his emotions rule what he said or how he acted or reacted. Blair hoped some of Jim's influence had rubbed off, giving him the emotional fuel to get through the ordeal. But he'd found himself forcing calmness while on the stand, instead of it coming naturally. And this, after he had so recently given Jim a lecture on remaining calm and in control.
They were in Blair's office now, and he had to gather up yesterday's still ungraded tests to take with him to class. He'd use the time to finish grading them, then be that much more close to having the quarter out of the way. And maybe get Jim into the lab to work on his hearing.
"So, you're just going to hang out here?" Blair was ready to leave, but he felt odd having Jim just sitting there, at his desk, preparing to wait for 2 hours.
"Don't worry, Sandburg, I'm not going to read your diary or anything." Jim was sitting at the desk, and he put both feet up on a corner, leaning back in the chair. "I think if you can kill time waiting for me, then I should be able to do the same."
Blair laughed, shaking his head. "Well, knock yourself out, man. The diary's right behind you." He left then, still shaking his head. Jim might just as well read it, he was the only one mentioned. Jim and his Sentinel discoveries, that is. In fact, aside from the tests he was giving and papers he was grading, all Jim would find in the immediate area would be papers and notes about him and his senses. Except for the....Oh man! There was no time to rush back to the office, he'd be late if he did. Jim was sure to find the notes Blair had left outlining the new tests he wanted to talk his Sentinel partner into taking, to test his hearing limits. Jim hated tests. He hated it when Blair talked him into coming into his make-shift lab and working out one or more of his senses. But, after Jim's impacted wax had been cleared up, and they discovered his hearing was so much more than it had been, Blair had a million ways to test him out. A million ways to explore Jim's range, but more importantly, Blair was dying to test out Jim's ability to piggy-back his senses on top of one another. If he could make his hearing give his eyesight direction, as well as a boost in range, then what could the other senses do if coupled with each other? Their discovery that afternoon had given Blair so much more fuel for his thesis, and so much more respect for his partner's talents. If only he could take some credit for it. Blair had to settle for standing next to greatness.
He had to hurry to make it down the hall and into the lecture room on time. Wouldn't do for the teacher to be late for the test.
"Good afternoon." Blair set his notebooks down on the table and began to hand out the test questions immediately. It had taken him three hours to write them, and they would need every minute of the class hour to complete them. "You know the routine." He finished handing the questions out and returned to the table at the front of the room, sitting down behind it to face the class. Without any words, they all opened their blue-books and notebooks, and got right to business. Blair put on his glasses and opened up the first of yesterday's tests. What should have been a three paragraph answer at the most, consisted of two pages. He sighed, glancing around the room. Most of the students used blue-books, and kept their answers short and to the point, like he asked. But every now and then, he counted 12 in this room alone, a student brought extra papers, and seemed to take page upon page to explain what boiled down to a two paragraph answer. Blair had to reluctantly admit it was Anthropology, not English, and just begin to read the papers.
Twenty minutes passed and he was only on the third test paper. There were 45 students in this class, and 27 more in the next hour. God, this was going to be another all-nighter. At least it was keeping his mind off the trial. Blair set the third paper aside and picked up the next one.
"What did Mr. Brackett do?" Blair shook his head. Dammit, focus! "Have you ever taken drugs, Mr. Sandburg?" He leaned forward, resting a hand on his forehead as he looked down on the test paper. "What happened to the missing bag, Mr. Sandburg?" Blair cleared his throat and shifted in the seat. "You then proceeded to the police garage, with a gun." He began to massage his forehead with the fingers propping his head up, then turned the page. "Then what did he do?"Blair cleared his throat again and glanced up at the students. "You brought this on yourself, didn't you Mr. Sandburg?" Blair shifted again. "You expect us to believe someone targeted you just to get to Detective Ellison?" Again Blair cleared his throat. "Why would someone of Detective Ellison's skill and dedication allow two people vital to his case be killed, in order to save you?" Blair pushed his glasses down and rubbed his eyes. Dammit, no one asked those questions. At least, not out loud. Had they?
"Mr. Sandburg?"
Blair looked up suddenly, seeing one of the students standing next to the desk. He quickly looked around and noticed the room was emptying out.
"When do you expect to have the grades posted?"
Blair cleared his throat again. At this rate, they'd all think he had the flu. "Tomorrow afternoon, I hope," he answered.
She smiled, then followed the rest of the class out the door. Blair looked at the pile of tests on the corner of the table and sighed. Definitely an all-nighter. No sooner had the room emptied, then it filled up again with the next class. Blair waited until they had all come in, then he once again handed out test papers. This time, he noted happily, no one had brought extra paper to cover their inability to make a quick and concise statement of fact. It might not be easy to draw correlations between tribal religious acts, but making a novel of the answer didn't make Blair's life any easier.
This time, Blair focused all of his energy on the paper in front of him, forcing any and all thoughts of the trial from his mind. He was able to get through 10 tests this time, but the effort had given him a stiff neck, and a stabbing pain between his eyes. When the last student placed his test on the corner of the desk, Blair stood and stretched. He considered calling Christine, she could give a great backrub, but he didn't have any time to waste if he was to get all of the tests graded and posted by tomorrow afternoon. If only Jim would....Oh God. He had. In that room, when Blair was falling apart like a child, Jim had been trying to calm him down, and rubbing the tension from his shoulders. And what had he done? Turned and shouted at him. Great, Sandburg. Real grown up. God, Jim must be getting tired of this. Blair stuffed the tests into his pack and swung it over one shoulder, then left the room and started back across the campus to his office.
He expected to find Jim sound asleep in his chair, not sitting on the windowsill, notebook in hand, pouring over some of Blair's notes.
"Hey, Jim."
"All finished, Teach?" Jim looked up from the notebook and closed it.
"Yeah, for now." Blair raised his eyebrows and nodded towards the book in Jim's hand. "Entertain yourself all right?"
"Yeah." Jim set the notebook back on the desk and stood up. "Fascinating subject matter."
Blair laughed, shaking his head. "It's all about you, Jim."
"Exactly." Jim was grinning ear to ear in a playful manner. "Come on, let's hit the road."
Blair laughed again, then shouldered his pack and checked the desk for any stray tests he had forgotten to gather up. Jim was in a fine mood, smiling and happy. He must have a good feeling about the trial, or maybe he had learned something during those two hours? Blair hurried out of the office, pushing the door shut, then followed Jim out to the parking lot. His partner was still grinning as they drove out of the crowded lot and onto the main street.
"Tell me something, Sandburg."
"What?"
"Sentinels have been around for centuries, right?"
"Yeah." Blair had been looking out at the traffic, but now he turned his attention to Jim.
"So presumably Guides have been around that long too, right?"
Blair's eyebrows raised. "I guess, yeah."
Jim glanced at him for a moment, then back to the road. "Then, why hasn't there been a study made of them?"
"What?"
"A study of the Guides, Chief." Jim glanced at him again. "I mean, if they're that important, then someone should study them, right?"
"Jim, most people don't even understand the Sentinel theory, why would anyone be interested in a study made of Guides?"
"I would." Jim replied simply.
"You would." Blair was perplexed now. "Why, Jim?"
"What do you mean, why?" Jim shook his head in mild amazement. "Sandburg, I live with one. I've got a Guide following me everywhere I go. I'd be interested in finding out what makes one tick."
Blair just stared at Jim, unsure of what he was saying, or what to say himself.
"I mean, what qualifications does it take to be a Guide, huh?" Jim glanced at Blair as he looked down the road before making a turn. "Is it genetic, like being a Sentinel? Is it personality? Luck? What?"
"Jim, I'm not a genetic throwback to some ancient cult of Guides or anything. I was just lucky enough to find you, and I knew about Sentinels and Guides because it's my life's study."
Jim shook his head. "No, I don't buy that, Chief."
"You don't?"
"Nope." Jim looked at Blair, shaking his head once. "I think you are a throwback, Sandburg. This is just all too natural for you, too easy."
Blair shook his head and made a face. "Thanks, Jim."
"No, I'm serious. I saw all those papers and notes back in your office. And those little tests of yours we need to talk about."
"Jim..."
"Hell, you know more about these senses than I do, and I'm the one who has them." They were in front of their building now and Jim parked the truck. "Face it, Chief, you're a natural." Jim shut off the engine and opened his door.
Blair sat there for a few seconds, completely perplexed. This turn of conversation was so totally unexpected, he had no idea how to react. Helping Jim work out what to do and how to do it just seemed to come naturally, but Blair knew that was due to his years of study. He felt in control, and able to understand and interpret Jim's thoughts and moods when they were "on the job". It was now, when Jim was just being Jim, that Blair often faltered, and had no idea what to say or when to say it. He did remember to get out of the truck, though, and follow his partner up to the loft.
Once inside, Blair tossed his pack to the table, and it suddenly dawned on him what Jim had done. For at least fifteen minutes, Blair hadn't once thought about the trial, or Lee Brackett. That was it. Damn, he's good. A study of Guides, indeed.
"You hungry? I was going to order a pizza."
Blair's stomach suddenly turned. "No, thanks."
Jim turned and quickly set the phone down. "Sorry, Blair. How about Chinese?"
"No, man, you go ahead. I'm not hungry." Blair was pulling tests out of his pack and he turned to Jim. "Really, it's okay." He sometimes wondered if he could ever eat pizza again. Maybe in a few more months.
"I think I'll get Chinese."
"Jim, it's okay."
"Sandburg, if I want Chinese, I'll order Chinese." Jim had been dialing, and now held up the phone and placed his order for Chinese food.
Blair just shook his head and finished removing the tests from his pack, then went to his room for another red pen and his small alarm clock. When he came back out, Jim was in front of the television and had fresh coffee brewing in the kitchen. Blair set the alarm for 1:00 a.m., hoping that would be enough time, taking the odd hour or two of completely drifting off again into consideration. He waited until the coffee was finished, poured himself a large cup, then sat down at the table and with a sigh, opened up the first of many.
Jim's food arrived shortly after Blair finished the second test, and Jim offered him some, but Blair's stomach wasn't settled down from all the morning's adrenaline yet. The sandwich he had eaten at lunch was still sitting there, going nowhere. Three more tests passed, and Jim found a movie on television. Blair made another pot of coffee then went to the bathroom. While in there, he heard the phone ring. When he came out, Jim was still on the phone.
"Right. Tomorrow, then?" Blair glanced at him, then returned to his tests on the table and picked up his glasses. "No problem, I'll be there." Jim hung up the phone and Blair looked up again.
"What's up?" He tried to remain casual, but he knew it had been Beverly Sanchez on the other end of the phone. If he had to go back into that courtroom again, he'd really blow it.
"Nothing to worry about, Chief," Jim replied, fishing a cup out of the cupboard. "Kostov didn't testify today." He poured some coffee, then walked to Blair with the pot and refilled his cup.
"Jim, what's going on?" Blair barely noticed that his cup was filled.
"It's okay, he's coming in tomorrow morning." Jim returned the pot to the kitchen and turned around. "Just a little change in schedule, happens all the time."
Blair's face had gone cold, and he prayed Jim couldn't see that somehow, but he knew he could. "Change?"
"He'll testify tomorrow." Jim picked up his cup and poured milk into it. "Nothing to worry about. They don't need us back again tomorrow, but I'm going in to the Station in the morning. I want to be there when Kostov comes in."
Blair nodded. He could feel his mind numbing up again, retreating back as far as it could. He had to shake himself a little to bring his focus back to the here and now. Jim was looking for more sugar, so Blair hoped he hadn't noticed. Just get these tests done.
"I just need to get these done and posted, then I'll be free," He said, conversationally.
"Good." Jim had found the sugar and added a spoonful to his cup. "Meet me at the Station when you're finished and we'll get some of those reports done." He tasted his coffee, then returned to the couch and the movie.
Sure, "we". Blair sighed and opened up another test. He knew Jim was aware that doing the reports and paperwork were no big deal, and that Blair even enjoyed it. Nothing wrong with doing what you're good at. If Jim counted on his help, all the better.
The movie ended at 11:00, and Jim announced he was tired. Blair offered to remove himself to his room to finish the tests, but Jim told him to stay. Now that he was in control of his hearing again, Blair's every move didn't drive him up the walls anymore.
"Just be sure you hit that alarm two seconds before it goes off, okay Chief?"
Blair laughed shortly. "Right, Jim."
When the alarm did go off at 1:00, Blair was ready for it. He had just set a completed test aside, and was glancing at the clock when it clicked over. Shutting it off as it started, he paused, listening. Jim didn't make a sound from upstairs, so Blair hoped he had been in time. He looked at the pile of completed tests, then the pile of the ones yet to be done. He was making progress, but still had a way to go. If he didn't finish now, he'd fall short of his promise to have the grades posted in the afternoon. The students were counting on him to be as punctual as the other instructors, and it wasn't their fault Blair led a double life, so he set the alarm aside and grabbed another test. When this was all over, the tests, the trial, everything, he'd catch up on some sleep. But until then, the only thing he had any control over was the papers in front of him.
When the last one was finished, Blair's eyes were blurring badly. He hoped he hadn't made any mistakes, but at least he had been able to focus on the task at hand, using that to keep from thinking about anything else. Anything, until now. He sighed, rubbing tired eyes, then tried to see his watch. 4:30. Hardly worth going to sleep now, but his eyes could use some down time. Blair quietly gathered up the graded tests, placed them in a pile on the table, then went to the bathroom. Then, in his state of mental fatigue, forgot Jim's no flushing after 10pm rule.
"Sandburg!" A sleepy, yet clearly grumpy voice called out from upstairs.
Blair cringed, realizing what he had done. "Sorry." He didn't need to raise his voice as he apologized on his way to his room. Shutting the door quietly, Blair didn't even bother getting undressed. He unzipped his jeans and fell on top of the bed, face down, burying his face into the pillow.
"Sandburg, wake up." Blair moaned tiredly and rolled over, glancing up at Jim. He was sure he had just then crawled into bed, but there was his partner, and another man. Blair blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. Jim wasn't alone. There was someone standing beside him. A man, in some type of tribal dress, looking down at him. Blair could see a spear in one hand, and a notebook in the other.
"Jim, what....?" Blair started to get up, glancing from the stranger to Jim.
"Come on, Chief, time to leave." Jim turned to the other man, then looked at Blair again and smiled. "It worked, just like you said. I followed the panther and found him."
Blair looked at the stranger. He was smiling now, and nodded his head slowly.
"Come on, Sandburg, he needs the room. You have to be in court today and we have to get back to work."
"Jim, no, wait." Blair sat up, then reached out for Jim. Before he could get closer, the stranger raised his spear. Blair stopped and looked at him, then Jim. "Jim...?"
"Come on, Sandburg, this is for real here. I've got work to do." Jim turned to leave and the stranger moved forward.
"Jim!" Blair shouted, but he couldn't move. Something was holding him down. He looked at the man in tribal dress, looked at the spear he had raised above his shoulder. Blair opened his mouth to shout again, but the spear suddenly flashed to life, arrowing straight for his neck.
"No!"
"Sandburg!"
Blair shot out of bed, clutching his neck. Jim came rushing into his room then, his face still half covered with soap. Blair's heart was racing.
"Sandburg, what happened?" Jim was standing next to him now, a concerned look on his face.
Blair sighed. "Nothing, I'm sorry." He shook his head and removed the hand that was still covering his throat, searching for a wound that wasn't there. "Just a bad dream."
Jim pulled down the towel he had draped over his shoulder and wiped his face. "Maybe you should stay home today."
Blair shook his head, pushing the hair out of his face. "No, I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep."
"What time do you have to get those grades up?" Jim finished wiping his face and checked his watch. "It's only 7:00."
"Yeah, maybe I'll wait a few more hours." Blair blinked a few times, trying to focus on his clock. He could function on 2-1/2 hours sleep sometimes, but this probably wasn't the best week to practice that habit. "I'll catch you later this morning, okay, Jim?"
"No problem, Chief." Jim paused a moment longer, then returned to the bathroom.
Blair reached over to set his alarm for two hours from then, and fell back down on the pillows. He considered getting out of his jeans, but before he could reach a conclusion, his alarm was going off.
"Oh, man." He reached around and slapped it off, then listened for any sounds of Jim. Remembering he had left for the Station two hours ago, Blair forced his tired eyes open and gazed at the clock. 9 a.m. He moaned audibly and rolled over, swinging his legs off the bed before his body had the chance to talk his mind out of doing it. The momentum carried him off the bed and he propelled himself across the hall to the bathroom. A quick shower, shave, and brushed teeth helped a little. As he was dressing, Blair recalled Jim's conversation with Beverly the night before. Kostov would be taking the stand this morning. What time? Part of him wanted to be there, to watch Kostov's testimony hang Lee Brackett. But there was a little voice, shouting at him from the back of his mind, that convinced him otherwise.
Blair gathered up the tests, shoved them into his pack, grabbed a bagel from the counter and stuffed it into his mouth as he reached for his keys. He'd just get to the University, post the grades, scribble down a few more notes that he had left hanging last week, and go meet Jim. Maybe by then, there'd be some good news. Or at the very least, no news at all. Before going downstairs to plug the grades into the University's program, he stopped and purchased a double-tall mocha, then chatted with a couple of students from his research group. By the time he got to his office, Blair was beginning to feel normal again. Fortified by two shots of espresso, he plugged the grades into the school's database, then found his notebook where Jim had left it, and re-read his last four pages.
Blair turned on the radio for background noise, then found a pen and began to finish the thought he had started on the last page. Idly, he wondered what Jim had thought, reading page after page about his own abilities. He had seen, after all, the test ideas Blair had come up with to examine Jim's hearing range. Getting Jim into the lab sometimes was like pulling teeth.
"....partly cloudy, with a slight chance of rain later this afternoon."
Blair's mind idly recognized the weather as he began to jot down more notes. If he could just get Jim to agree to a few more experiments, they could really be onto something.
"And in breaking news this morning...."
He had to find out if Jim's other senses could piggy-back onto each other as his sight and hearing had. And what had that felt like? How had Jim been able to accomplish what Blair had suggested? Was it hard, or did it come naturally after Blair's hurried explanation?
"....confirmed case of jury tampering."
Would it work with more than two senses at a time?
"....admitted to having received over $50,000..."
And what about smell? Could Jim use his sight, to pinpoint an area and pick out smells from a greater distance?
"A definite mistrial. Just another case to be made for a professional jury system."
Then there was touch. One of Jim's senses they hadn't delved into very much yet.
"Until the prosecution gets another case put together....."
Blair was fully aware that Jim used his sense of touch in ways he didn't really want to explore, but for the sake of the research, they'd have to discuss it one of these days.
"Bail was set at....."
As if Jim needed any sexual advantage. The man was a magnet. Blair shook his head and continued to write.
"....leaving suspected murder Lee Brackett free pending a second trial."
Blair froze.
"In financial news this morning....."
No. No, he hadn't just heard that. Oh God--oh God--he had! Mistrial?! What the hell had---what did that---Oh God, Lee Brackett was out!! Blair's pen fell to the floor. How long? How long had he been out? And Jim---where was Jim? The phone rang and Blair shot to his feet, spilling papers everywhere. His eyes darted from the phone to the door, then to the clock. It was 11:30. The phone rang again and Blair backed away from it, glancing back at the door. He had to get out, had to get---he had to get out! Brackett would come for him---was probably coming for him now. He'd get Jim. He'd come after Blair and get Jim. He had to get out! The phone rang again, and Blair lunged for the door, opening it before stopping to wonder who might be outside. He ran up the stairs, then out to the parking lot and into his car. Brackett wouldn't try anything right there in the open, would he? Where was Jim? Blair dug the keys from his pants and started the car. He had to get away, had to get far enough away so Brackett wouldn't find him and get to Jim. He had to---Jim could take care of himself, which is why Brackett came after Blair. Jim would be safe if he could---get away.
Blair drove out of the parking lot as fast as he could, barely glancing down the road before pulling into the light traffic. He didn't see anyone watching him, didn't see Lee Brackett anywhere. He didn't even see Jim's truck as it pulled into the parking lot from the opposite side.
"Dammit Sandburg, pick up!" Jim held the cell phone to his ear and drove with one hand as he entered the parking lot in front of Blair's building. He had been phoning since he left the Station, letting it ring and ring as he drove, lights flashing, to the University. He let it continue to ring as he ran from the truck to the building, then down the stairs, and into Blair's office.
"Sandburg!" Jim scanned the room in seconds, realizing immediately his partner wasn't there. He saw the papers strewn on the floor, and heard the news still coming from the radio at the other end. "Dammit." He knew then that Blair must have heard. Of all the days to listen to news, instead of those obnoxious drums. Jim had hung up his cell phone, and it now rang in his hand.
"Sandburg?"
"Jim, it's Simon."
Jim sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Anything, Captain?"
"No. He wasn't there?"
"I can't find him." Jim started back out of the office and up the stairs. "Is Mike at the loft?"
"Yes. No sign of him there, but Jeff and Randall are on Brackett. He hasn't left his lawyer's office yet. We just have to find Sandburg."
"I'm trying, Simon." Jim was at the truck again, and he focused tightly around the area, scanning for any sign of Blair. "Tell Mike to wait there. He has to have gone to the Station or home, Captain. I'm going to head that way, see if I can pick up on anything."
"Keep me informed."
Jim hung up and climbed back into the truck. Blair's car wasn't in the parking lot, but following a heat trail would be impossible, with all the other vehicles on the road. He'd have to go on instinct, and pray that would work. He drove to the road and turned, heading in the opposite direction he had come in. If Blair had just left, as Jim suspected, then he would have passed him on the road coming in from the south. He drove straight for several blocks, hoping that was right. With his hearing turned up, even to his new-found advantage, he scanned the streets for the distinctive sound of Blair's Corvair. Having heard him drive home at all hours of the night, Jim was keenly aware of the sound that engine made. He continued straight, heading towards the bay, scanning for Blair or his car. The sounds of the city began to overwhelm him, threatening to overload his hearing.
"Come on, Blair, where are you?" Jim came to a stop at the pier and looked down towards the city center. Would he have gone someplace public, in the hopes that Brackett wouldn't make a move against him? Then why hadn't he called? If he knew, as Jim had found out only moments before the newscast, then why hadn't he called? This whole trial had gone so horribly wrong, with Kostov suddenly deciding to change his story, then leaking a suggestion that there had been jury tampering. Before Jim knew what was happening, Lee Brackett had been released on a quarter-million dollars bail.
From his pocket, the cell phone rang again. "Sandburg?"
"Jim, still no sign of him at the loft. Brackett's just left his lawyer's office."
"Simon, I can't find him anywhere."
"It doesn't make sense, Jim. Why wouldn't he run to you? He hasn't come here, or home."
Jim shook his head, glancing up at the seaplane he could see just now lifting off from the bay. "I don't know, Simon. He's scared. This week hasn't been easy, and he's scared to death." He unconsciously focused on the plane in front of him.
"We'll keep an eye out here, Jim. And I've got Mike...."
"Hold on a minute, Simon." Jim lowered the phone and focused all of his attention on the small seaplane as it circled for altitude, then set off in a northerly direction. "Simon, I think I found him."
It took some doing, but Jim was finally able find a charter to take him north. It left in twenty minutes, so he hurried back to the truck, retrieved an overnight bag he tended to keep there, and phoned Simon as promised.
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Just be sure you come back, Jim. And bring that partner of yours with you. We'll keep Brackett in check."
"Thank you, sir." Jim hung up, then climbed into the waiting seaplane and strapped himself in. Within minutes, they were airborne and heading north, towards Puffin Island.
Blair saw the island in the distance and once again felt the guilt of what he had done well up
inside. How stupid was this? Running away like a frightened child. He had run away from Jim, instead of to him, in a desperate attempt to keep Brackett from getting to his friend. Jim could take care of himself, but Blair wasn't so lucky. David Lash had taken him easily, and so had Zeller. Lee Brackett had no trouble at all getting to him, then using him to get to Jim. Maybe he had---No, he hadn't done the right thing. He should have called Jim. He should have told Jim what he was doing, where he was going. He'd realized that the minute the plane lifted off. But it being a supply run, that he'd had to beg a ride on, turning around because he had suddenly changed his mind wasn't something the pilot was at all willing to do.
They were coming in for a landing now, and Blair could see Katie Hathaway standing on the pier. She must be waiting for supplies, as there was no way she could have known he was on the plane. They landed, and Katie saw him and smiled. Blair realized she didn't look as surprised as he would have thought. He thanked the pilot as he climbed out, and saw him nod in reply.
"Hey there." Katie approached, squinting against the wind from the plane's rotor as it powered back up and pulled away from the long dock. She reached out and hugged Blair warmly. "He said you'd be here about this time."
Blair returned the embrace, then pulled back, puzzled. "He?" Sudden alarm ran through his veins, but before he could say anymore, she smiled and replied.
"Jim. He called an hour ago, said you were on your way here and to hold onto you."
Blair took a step back, glancing quickly around the dock they stood on. "You're sure it was Jim?" How could he have found out so quickly? Blair hadn't made any phone calls, and the pilot didn't even know him. He intended to phone as soon as he landed, explain to Jim where he was, and apologize for running off like that.
"Yes." Katie nodded, then reached out and took Blair by the arm. "Come inside, it's cold out here." She pulled his arm and he relented, following her up the dock towards the research station. "He called, said you had just taken off, and that he figured you were coming out here." They reached the steps and started up. Blair's eyes kept darting around. "He said something had happened, but he wouldn't say what."
Blair reached out and opened the door for her, then followed her inside. "Any students here?"
"No, just Clive and me right now. You want some coffee?" She walked to the kitchen and Blair followed.
His hands were shaking again, as the realization of what he had done, and where he was, sank in. God, Jim was going to kill him. "Did you say Jim was on his way here?" Blair reached out for a chair and sat down, hoping the shaking would stop.
"Yes, he's about an hour behind you." Katie flipped on the coffee pot and turned to face him. "So, to what do we owe this unexpected visit?"
Blair sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed his forehead. How was he supposed to explain this? He hadn't been able to tell anyone, other than Jim and those who knew at the station, about Lee Brackett. He hadn't been able to tell anyone about David Lash, or more recently, his exposure to the drug Golden, and its resultant episode in the police garage, with Jim's gun. Not even Naomi knew.
"I just had to get away, that's all. It's been a stressful week."
Katie just looked at him, with the same look in her eyes that Jim had when he knew Blair was lying. "Just had to get away? So quickly, you didn't even pack a coat?"
Blair raised his eyebrows and looked around the room sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I was in a bit of a hurry." To put it mildly. "Is Clive around?"
Katie sighed and shook her head. "Okay, be that way." She reached around and retrieved two cups from the pegs behind the sink. "Clive's upstairs." She poured the coffee, put milk in hers, then handed the other to Blair. "Come on up."
Blair accepted the cup and stood, feeling like a child as he followed her up the circular stairs to the observation and research area on the upper level. He was grateful there were no students at the station, but also extremely embarrassed that he had run out there, to the tiny, secluded island. Jim was going to skin him alive, and rightfully so. The fact that he had run with his partner's safety in mind, wasn't going to help his case any. How many times had Jim said they needed to stay together to work against Brackett? But then, how many times had Jim said the trial would go without a hitch? No, that wasn't fair. Blair reached the top of the stairs and ran a hand through his hair. Blaming Jim wasn't going to get him anywhere, and it wasn't his fault. Not really. But Blair had to blame someone...he had to.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Clive was seated behind his desk, ever-present pipe in hand, watching Katie and Blair approach.
"Hey." Blair forced a smile as he came closer. "I'm sorry to drop in on you two like this, without calling or anything. I just needed..." He faltered.
"To get away for a bit?" Clive volunteered.
Blair nodded, raising his eyebrows and glancing around. "Yeah, something like that." He sat down on the couch facing Clive's desk and gazed out the window behind him. Katie had stepped around behind her husband and rested both hands on his shoulders, smiling patiently at Blair.
"Anything you need to talk about?" Clive asked, striking a match to re-lite his pipe.
Blair shook his head, pursing his lips in a negative. "Just got a little stressful in the city, needed a break."
Clive nodded knowingly as he held the match to the tobacco, pulling in air. When he was finished, he sat back in his chair and Katie began to massage his shoulders gently. "Just a little stressful? Is that why your friend called in such a panic, and caught the first flight out here he could? And why he asked us to keep an eye on you till he came?"
Blair felt his face flush, first with shame, then some anger mixed in. What did he think, that Blair was unable to take care of himself? Could he not just take off when he needed to....No, no that's not what this was about. Anger gave way to fear, and the gut-wrenching terror he had felt, which sent him running in the first place.
"Listen, Blair." Katie had moved out from behind her husband and was now sitting beside him on the couch, touching his arm gently. "I'm flattered you came here when you felt you had to get away from everything, both of us are. But it's obvious something is wrong, very wrong. You must have come up here for a reason."
Blair just nodded slightly, staring into his coffee. He couldn't tell her what really happened. He couldn't tell her he had just panicked like a child and run to the only place he felt he could hide. Instead of running to someone who could help, he'd run away. "I just...I just can't talk about it, not yet. Okay?" He looked up at her, with an expression designed to convey the right feelings. God, this wasn't fair, to Jim or to them. Coming up here, to hide, and not telling Katie or even Clive just why he was there. Just drop in, unannounced, then clam up and expect them to let you hang out with no explanations, no word, no nothing.
"Okay," Katie replied. "Listen, it's close to dinner, and we've got one guest here and one more on the way. I'd better get downstairs."
"Hey, don't go to any trouble, really. I just..." Blair stopped again, aware that he was stumbling over a simple apology.
"Relax, Blair. We're used to company out here, remember?" Katie patted his arm again, then stood and smiled at Clive before walking back to the stairs.
Blair sighed deeply, trying to force back the moisture forming behind his eyes. Clive was still sitting behind his desk, puffing away, and watching him with a practiced eye. Blair set his now empty cup down and leaned back on the couch, resting his head against the cushion.
"One of those days, huh?" Clive asked quietly.
Blair laughed shortly, not lifting his head. "Yeah, you could say that."
Clive nodded, puffing on his pipe as he did. After a minute passed, he removed the pipe and examined a fingernail. "Your friend was very worried when he called. Having gotten to know him when you two were up, I didn't think him to be the panicking type."
Blair kept his head back. "He's not."
Clive nodded again, switching his attention to another fingernail. "So, does he have reason to panic now?"
Blair rolled his eyes, but didn't lift his head. There were beams crossing the ceiling, and he followed one until he found a nail to stare at. "I don't know." The nail was no longer fascinating, so he searched for something else. "More reason to be mad, than anything, I think."
"Because you came out here? Or because maybe you came out here without telling anyone, and he didn't know where to find you?"
Blair looked up then, gazing at Clive who was again sucking air through his pipe. "What did he tell you?" Clive had a way of making you forget you didn't want to talk, and Blair was just beginning to recall that quirk of his. Did they both know what had brought him here? Had Jim explained it?
Clive puffed again, then slowly pulled the pipe from his mouth and leaned back in his chair, making it rock slightly as he held the pipe in front of his face. "I find I can learn more from what a person doesn't say, than what he does. Don't you find that to be true?"
Blair closed his eyes, feeling once again the fool. There he was, trying to hide his turmoil from a man whose entire life's work was devoted to research and discovery. As was Blair's. As was Jim's. He slowly reached up a hand to rub his tired eyes, realizing just then that he had come all the way out there, spur of the moment, without even a toothbrush or change of underwear. What was he thinking? The entire trip there, he'd had plenty of time to regret his rash action, and plan his explanation after calling Jim. But upon arriving, and learning Jim was on his way out there even as he landed, his mind had begun to rationalize his actions all over again. But he knew, deep down inside, he knew what he had done was not only stupid, but dangerous, for both of them. Jim was going to be pissed. God, all those lectures about sticking together, being partners, watching each other's backs. And he had just tossed it all out the emotional window after hearing the news. Hadn't stopped to think maybe, just maybe, Jim was on top of it. And no doubt that had been Jim, or Simon, on the phone when he'd freaked out and rushed out of the office.
"Well, looks like you're going to have to face the music." Clive's voice startled Blair from his thoughts. "The boat's pulling up."
Boat? Wasn't Jim flying out? Oh God! Blair jumped to his feet and hurried to the windows that overlooked the pier. There was a small boat pulling up, with a driver and one passenger, but from that distance, Blair couldn't make out any faces. Oh God---Oh God, what if he'd followed him? What if Lee Brackett had followed him out there? He'd just brought danger to his friends by running out...
"Yep, that's him."
Blair looked again at the figure Clive was watching walk up the pier. The boat was pulling out now, and only one man remained. Jim. Blair couldn't see his face, but he knew...he knew it was Jim, and not Brackett. He breathed a sigh of relief, and the instant that breath expired, he knew he was in for it.
"I'd better go talk to him, before he gets up here." Blair didn't want to add that he'd rather his partner chewed him a new orifice outside of Clive or Katie's range. He walked to the stairs, descended, finding Katie in the kitchen, and walked towards the door. If he'd judged right, Jim should still be on the landing, coming up the stairs that led from the dock to the outer deck of the research center. He opened the door, took in a deep breath as much against the cold in the air as the cold he expected to be blasted with, and walked outside.
Jim was halfway up, taking the steps two at a time, as his longer legs allowed. When Blair stepped to the top of the landing, Jim paused, looking up at him. He could see relief visibly cross his partner's face and body as he saw Blair standing there. Blair was ready with his explanation when he opened the door, but now, seeing Jim, he couldn't start.
"Are you all right?" Jim asked, still standing on the steps, looking up.
"Jim, I'm sorry, man. I wasn't thinking. I just..." Blair stopped and Jim shook his head, glancing out across the bay that stretched out beside him.
"Are Clive and Katie here?" Jim turned and continued up the steps, one at a time now.
"Yes, they're here." Blair waited until Jim was on the landing, level with him. "Jim, I'm sorry...really." He started to reach out and touch Jim's arm, hoping it was the right time to do that, but then changed his mind. These serious times were just too much. Adding the physical part that he still had trouble with wasn't going to help.
Jim wasn't looking at him. He had at first, on the stairs, but now, as they both stood side by side on the landing, Jim was looking everywhere but at Blair. "We'll talk about it. Right now, I'm cold, and I have to call Simon." At that, Jim looked down, meeting Blair's eyes with his own ice-blue ones. "Mike's been at the loft, waiting for you to show up. Simon's been at the Station, thinking you'd go there. Randall and Stevens are monitoring Brackett's every move." He kept looking at Blair. Looking right into him. "I've had half of Cascade PD looking for you, Sandburg. If I hadn't spotted you in that seaplane, they'd still be out there."
Blair looked down at the deck, unable to say a word. He knew he was wrong. He knew he'd been stupid to run like that, and he knew Jim had every right to be pissed off. But, he also knew saying it would do him no good right now. "Jim, I..."
"We'll talk about it." Jim turned and walked to the door, slinging his pack over one shoulder. Blair remained where he was, on the deck, leaning against the railing. He watched Jim enter the building and close the door as Katie called out a greeting.
Blair turned around and faced the bay. The sun was just beginning to lower itself, casting a warm, blue-grey hue over everything it touched. The sky was clouded, and it was still chilly at night. Blair could feel the damp coldness creeping in, mixing with the ice in his gut. He just stood there, leaning both elbows on the railing, watching the waves, willing the cry of seagulls overhead to become the most important thing that was happening right now. He wanted to lose himself, to toss a piece of his mind, his emotions, right out to sea. If he could just rewind back several hours, back to him sitting in his office, eagerly scribbling notes and contemplating his tests, then he could re-evaluate his reaction to the news. He could calmly ingest what was being said, absorb it, then reach over for the phone, call Jim, and find out what was happening, and what he should do. How hard was that? How hard would it have been to react in a normal, well-trained manner, and follow Jim's lead? Why did he have to be so rash? Jim was probably disappointed in him. Simon had to be mad at him. And half the Cascade PD was most likely having a great time with this one. But he didn't care about them. The only person he cared about not failing, had just begun to give him hell for being such an idiot. There was more to come, he knew. Jim had a way of quietly making his point, and the quieter he was, the angrier he had become.
By the time Katie opened the door and announced quietly that dinner was ready, Blair was uncaringly shivering from the cold evening air. He hurried inside, only then realizing how cold he had become, and walked to the table that had been set at the far corner of the dining area. With no students to clutter the station, Katie and Clive enjoyed a more intimate atmosphere, with a small, round table nestle up against a row of windows that looked out over the rocky ground of their small island. When Blair approached the table, Clive and Jim were laughing about something. At least Jim's anger wasn't spilling over. And it never did. One of the things that fascinated Blair about his partner was the man's ability to contain his emotions and direct them only to the person they involved. And right now, they seemed only to involve Blair.
Jim glanced at Blair as he approached the table and sat down. His initial relief at finding him here, alive and unharmed, had quickly given way to his anger and frustration over Blair's sudden flight response. After making his apologies to Clive and Katie for the unexpected visit, he had phoned Simon to let the Captain know where they were. Brackett was under close watch, with uniformed officers staking out his apartment, as well as plain-clothes detectives watching his every move. Until the trial was rescheduled, Brackett wouldn't be able to use the bathroom without several people knowing about it. But Blair didn't know that. He hadn't stuck around long enough to find out. When Jim had been called out of his interrogation of a suspect with Mike Jenkins, and informed of the declaration of mistrial and sudden release of Lee Brackett pending a new trial, he hadn't even gone to his desk to use the phone. He'd begun to dial Blair's office as he hurried to the elevator, and kept calling the office and the loft all the way out to the University. It was sheer luck, and the use of a couple of Sentinel senses that had led him to discover Blair in the seaplane that took off in front of him down by the bay. He'd known then exactly where his partner was headed. And now that they were both there, it was too late to find a ride back tonight. They'd have to wait until noon tomorrow for a supply run to take them back to Cascade. The fact that Blair was quiet all through dinner, and kept throwing apologetic glances his way, did little to assuage Jim's anger at his having run away like he did.
"Look at that sunset." Katie sighed, glancing out the window she was facing during a lull in the conversation.
"It's incredible," Blair agreed. "Let me do dishes, huh?" He pushed his chair back and stood.
"You can help." Katie stood also and began to gather up the plates.
Clive reached into the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out the pipe and a bag of tobacco. "Jim, we Canadians have a great source of whiskey, straight out of Scotland. Katie, how about some coffee? Takes the chill right out of these evenings up here."
"Sounds great." Jim stood and followed Clive up the stairs to the top level. He had fallen in love with the view from there the last time he and Blair had been up. Idly, Jim wondered if every visit to the island would involve emotional turmoil as a result of Blair's inability to communicate completely. If he had only called, or answered the phone when Jim called. He knew the news had only just aired as he was making the first of many phone calls to Blair's office. Why hadn't he picked up the phone? Jim could understand his panic at hearing such news, but why hadn't he run straight back to the Station? Or the loft? Why had he run away, instead of to?
"So, is everything all right in the city?" Clive asked conversationally as he removed a bottle of whiskey from his private stash.
"Blair didn't tell you what brought him out here?" Jim was surprised, and somewhat relieved. He had assumed his partner would have told them what happened. He often wondered if Blair was more open and sharing with other people, more than he was with him. If anyone could open that shell he hid behind, Jim would have credited the task to Clive and Katie both. Together, they were a formidable force to ignore, and each had their own unique brand of interrogation that Jim had to admire. But then again, when Blair decided to clam up, there was no getting past his, "I'm fine." Blair liked everyone to think what he saw and did bounced right off his cheery exterior, but Jim knew better. He could see it in the younger man's eyes, read it on his expressive face.
"No. He's being his usual self so far. I can tell something's up. It's not like him to just up and fly out here, without so much as a change of socks." Katie was approaching then, with two cups of hot coffee in her hands. She set them both on the table for Clive to add the whiskey.
"Jim, I've put your bag in the room you had last time. I wouldn't wish those student beds on anyone who's been out of college more than two months."
Jim laughed and nodded. "Thanks. I'm sorry about barging in like this."
"Don't worry about it. I only hope whatever it is that brought you both out, isn't so serious it can't be fixed."
I hope so too. "A case I was working on got a little hairy back in Cascade." Jim offered, not wanting to leave the pair of them totally in the dark. It was their home Blair had come running to, after all. They had a right to know what had brought him there, with Jim so desperately on his heels. "Blair was a pivotal witness in a case against someone, and that man has since been released on bail." Jim tasted the whiskey-laced coffee as he considered his words.
"And Blair has reason to be afraid of this man?" Clive asked quietly.
"Possibly, yes." Jim left it at that. If Blair hadn't told them about the ordeal, then he didn't feel it was his place to. He didn't even like to remember it himself, and recalling the details in court hadn't been easy at all. Jim hadn't been able to sleep at all that night, with visions of his partner lying in a hospital bed, writhing in agony on a regular basis, even with his mind drugged into unconsciousness.
"Well, you're both welcome out here, anytime. I hope you realize that." Katie smiled and reached out for a taste of her husband's coffee.
"I appreciate that," Jim replied. "I think I'll take a walk, enjoy the last of that sunset." They each smiled in response and he nodded, picking up his cup and walking to the stairs. Unconsciously Jim tuned in all his senses long enough to locate Blair, whom he found sitting on one of the couches in the living area, head down in both hands, while he massaged both of his temples. Jim considered having a talk with him then, but he still needed some cool down time, and that sunset would be a good distraction. Blair looked up as he passed the living area and walked out the side door, heading towards a spot he had discovered the last time he was out.
The rock Blair had been sitting on while contemplating the death of his friend had the perfect view of the vivid orange and red streaked sky. Jim eased himself down on a rock that kissed a 20 foot drop and settled in, with his cup resting on a stump level with his right shoulder. The sun was nearly all the way down now, with just a quarter-globe of pulsating orange still visible against a distant island. Jim watched it sink, sipping his coffee. He understood Blair's reaction, he honestly did. What he didn't understand, and what hurt so much right now, was his partner's action. After all they had been through, and all they had discussed, when Blair was cornered, he ran away from Jim. Blair's instincts regarding Jim's Sentinel senses were flawless and instant. But obviously his instincts towards Jim as a partner, and more importantly, a friend, were still nonexistent. Why? After all this time, why?
Jim sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He could feel the whiskey kicking in, warming him from the guts outward, and thought he had better stop. Hard liquor tended to effect his senses more than the occasional beer, so Jim tried to avoid it as often as possible. His senses weren't so dulled not to pick up the sound, scent, and feel of Blair coming out of the building and walking down the path that would lead to his rocky perch. How could Jim be so tuned in, so unconsciously connected to someone, and still be unable to predict his actions? Blair approached from behind, hesitated a moment, then sat down on a rock beside and slightly behind Jim's. They were in exactly the opposite positions from those they had been the last time they each sat there, trying hard to face something neither one wanted to discuss. Jim didn't look back, he didn't have to, to know that Blair was working up the courage, or the words, to say what needed to be said.
"Jim, I am really sorry about this," Blair began, his voice quiet even though both Katie and Clive were still upstairs. "I just...panicked."
"I know you did, Chief," Jim replied, his voice also quiet. "That's what hurts." Blair was silent, and Jim could almost hear his confusion. He still didn't understand what he had done. Jim turned his head and glanced at Blair, seeing the puzzled expression as he struggled to understand what Jim had said.
"Jim..."
"Blair, I understand how you felt." He held up a hand to stop the protest he could see forming suddenly in those blue/green, bloodshot eyes. "Don't tell me I can't possibly understand, Sandburg, because I do. More than you know." He turned back to gaze over the darkening water. "Do you think it was easy for me? I sat there, in that hospital room, for countless hours, not knowing if you were going to live or die. Then it wasn't even over when we got home. I saw what Brackett did to you, and I went through hell not being able to stop it." He paused, forcing down the memory to a point at which he could handle it. Blair was so quiet behind him, he nearly turned to make sure his partner hadn't left, but he could hear his breathing, slow and quiet. Unlike the steady, gut-wrenching sound of the respirator that had been the only thing keeping him alive for 2 days while his body fought off the effects of an overdose of Golden. "I know what it felt like, Chief."
A slight breeze had picked up, and Jim could feel a chill coming off the bay. Blair hadn't even grabbed a coat before running out here, and now he was sitting on the rock, in nothing warmer than the jeans and long-sleeved shirt he had put on that morning. At least Jim had the sense to grab the change of clothes and sweatshirt he was in the habit of carrying. He could hear the slight trembling of Blair's muscles, and figured it was from the cold.
"Jim, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." Blair's teeth were beginning to chatter.
"Go inside, it's getting cold out here."
"No, Jim, I don't want to go inside." He crossed his arms and hugged himself against the chill.
"Why did you come here, Sandburg?" Jim asked. He was tired of playing these games, and dancing around Blair's fear of exposing his feelings. He had to know, now.
Blair faltered for a moment. "I...I don't know. Instinct, I guess."
"That's what I mean."
"What? Jim, I don't get it. I know what I did was wrong, and I'm sorry. I should have called, told you where I was going. Hell, man, the plane barely lifted off before I realized what I was doing. Then it was too late, and I had to get all the way up here before I could call." There was definite entreaty in Blair's tone.
Jim sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Sandburg, ask yourself...why did you run here? Why here, and not the Station, or home?" He had turned around now to face Blair, and watched as his partner thought over the question.
Blair shrugged. "Instinct, I guess. Jim, I just needed to run, and I thought if I was somewhere Brackett couldn't find me, then he couldn't get to you."
"What kind of thinking is that?" Jim turned more so he was facing Blair. "Didn't you learn anything last time, Sandburg? The only way we can beat that man is by sticking together." He could feel the anger returning, coming through in his voice, and in the way Blair flinched. "Does none of this mean anything to you?"
"Jim..."
"No, Chief, just listen." Jim held up a hand to silence him so he could continue. "We've been through a lot together, Lee Brackett notwithstanding. But after all that, after everything that's happened, your instincts are still to run in the opposite direction, away from me." He paused and looked at Blair. There was hurt behind those eyes, but whether it was pain of being chastised, or a realization of what Jim was saying, he didn't know. "It hurt, partner. You're always there when I need help, I'd like to believe you know I'm here for you, too."
"I do, Jim." Blair said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he gazed at his feet. "I just panicked."
"And acted on instinct. Blair, I understand that. What I don't get, is why your instincts are to run away. And what's it going to take for your instincts to send you to your friends, instead of away from them? You obviously didn't run here to tell the Hathaways what was wrong. They couldn't get more out of you than how sorry you were to barge in." Blair was visibly shaking, and Jim didn't think it was all from the evening chill. The sun was gone now, leaving a faintly back-lit sky to see by. He reached around and retrieved his cup, handing it to Blair. "Drink this."
Blair looked up at the cup, then at Jim. "It's cold."
"It's mostly whiskey, it'll warm you up." He shoved the cup forward and Blair reluctantly took it. "You need it more than I do."
Blair looked at the contents for a full minute before finally relenting and taking a drink. Jim returned his gaze to the water, glistening in the darkness like liquid black diamonds. He heard Blair take another drink, then begin to roll the cup between his hands.
"Jim, you have to understand, I'm working on a lifetime of instinct. That doesn't just get overruled too easily." Blair paused and Jim waited, watching the emerging starlight dance on the waves. "Naomi was very independent, and raised me the same way. I've been taking care of myself since first moving out, and I've never...I've never had anyone...any friend, quite like you. Hell, I've never known anyone quite like you. I know I was wrong here, Jim. I know that. And if I had taken even a minute to think about what I was doing, I would have gone straight to the Station, and hidden under the desk." Blair stopped again, taking one more drink before going on. "Running was just an animal instinct, a fight or flight reaction, nothing more. I never meant it to...I never thought you'd...hell, Jim, I never meant for you to take this personally. I'm...stunned that you did. I swear, it's the last thing I was trying to do. You've got to believe that."
Jim sighed, turning again to look at Blair. The eyes were pleading now, both eyebrows raised, and there was definite moisture building up behind them. "Look, Chief, it's been a long day. We've both been through hell." Blair's gaze fell to the ground, and Jim waited until he looked back up. "I'm sorry this happened. I told you it would end, and he'd never get out again, and it wasn't true."
Blair looked puzzled, his teeth chattering slightly. "Jim, it wasn't your fault."
"As much as I'd like to believe that, Chief, I have to take some of the blame. If not for Brackett's mistrial, then for getting mad at you for running out here. How many times in these past few days did I tell you to trust me? And then you hear it over the news that Lee Brackett has been let out on bail, pending another trial?" Jim shook his head. "What did I expect?"
"Jim, no." Blair reached out a hand, but pulled it back before touching Jim's arm. "It wasn't your fault. I do trust you, I just...I just freaked. It had nothing to do with you."
It was time to let this kid off the hook, and get past this issue and back on track, where they belonged. After all, when Blair was out of his mind on Golden, at least his instincts at that time had been to trust Jim. If he could trust him then, when nothing else made sense to his drugged mind, then maybe there was hope. "Okay, let's call it even, then. It's not my fault, and you're an idiot."
Blair stared at him for a minute before realizing it was okay to laugh at what he had just said. Jim's own face broke into a full grin and he slapped Blair on the knee. "Let's get inside before we both freeze to death." He stood, and had to wait for Blair to stand and step back before he could move off of his rock. "You didn't even bring a coat, did you?"
"No." Blair shook his head and grinned sheepishly.
"You've got a lot to learn about being prepared, Chief." Jim reached out and cuffed Blair on the back of the head as they proceeded back to the house. Yes, they were back on track. Simon would keep an eye on Brackett, and by the time he and Blair had hitched a ride back to Cascade tomorrow afternoon, Beverly would have another case ready for the judge.
Blair stirred, slowly becoming aware that he was in bed, and wanted to stay there. He was on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow, and feeling very warm and comfortable. Vaguely he realized it was morning, and by opening one eye, his theory was confirmed. He sighed heavily and turned his head, noting that the bed at the other side of the room was empty. Not only empty, but made up. Jim's bag was resting on top, but he was nowhere to be found. The clock beside the bed read 9:00 A.M. He really should get up. Jim, Katie, and even the late-sleeper Clive, were most likely down the hall, enjoying breakfast, wondering when their resident insecurity case was going to drag his sorry butt out of bed. God, he didn't want to get up! He'd never expected to sleep well, with Lee Brackett being on the loose again, but he had. He'd not only slept, but hadn't had a single nightmare. Not one. And now, after having caught up on so many lost hours, he didn't want to get up.
There was a quiet knock on the door. "Hey, Chief, you gonna sleep all day?"
"I'm up," Blair mumbled into the pillow. "I'm up." Reluctantly he rolled over and forced his legs to come out from under the warm blankets and search for the floor. "I'm up." He heard Jim chuckle softly and walk back down the hallway. Blair took several deep breaths, forcing his mind awake, then pushed off the bed and padded barefoot to the shower. Several minutes under a steaming hot spray finished clearing the fog from his head, and reminded his stomach that he hadn't eaten well in the last few days. When he got back to the bedroom, he found one of Jim's Cascade PD sweatshirts on top of his pile of clothes. He didn't hesitate, but pulled it on gratefully. Maybe after this, he'd learn to keep some clothes in his car as well, just in case. When he was dressed, he returned to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, listening to Katie's laughter ring out from the floor above. Jim's voice joined hers while Blair scooped up some eggs and sat down. One cup of coffee, and half a plate of eggs filled his still-unimpressed stomach, so he gave up eating more and did the dishes, then cleaned up the counter and returned the kitchen to Katie's usual spotless style.
"Hey, look who's up." Jim came down the stairs, followed by Clive. They were both still smiling from some shared joke, and Blair detected a hint of Jim's infamous sideways grin.
"Good morning." Blair reached up with one hand and pushed his still damp hair out of his face. "Jim, what time do we get out of here?"
"Supply plane comes back around 2 P.M., same one that brought you out here," Clive said. "Leaves plenty of time for some fishing."
"Fishing?" Blair glanced from one man to the other.
"Yeah, fishing," Jim said. "Maybe if we bring a couple of salmon back, the Captain will be in a more forgiving mood."
Blair rolled his eyes. Oh God, he'd forgotten. Jim's reprimand had been mild, compared to what Simon was liable to dish out. And he deserved it. He deserved every bit of it, having run off like that. He was flattered to think Simon would muster out half the force to locate him, but now, Blair was going to have to apologize, and pray Simon's anger would diffuse quickly, for Jim's sake if not his own.
"You comin'?" Jim asked.
Blair shook his head, pursing his lips for emphasis. "Nope, not me, man. It's cold out there. Besides, sitting in a little boat, with the two of you, and nothing to do but wait...no thanks."
Jim laughed again, slapping Blair on the back as he passed by. "Your loss, Chief."
"Yeah, my loss." He shook his head and watched Clive and Jim gather up some gear, then walk happily out the door. Blair followed as far as the landing, watching them walk down the pier and load their gear and themselves into Clive's 14ft, aluminum fishing boat. As they started the engine, Blair looked out over the bay, gazing at the small array of fishing and pleasure boats visible in the channel. After watching Jim and Clive join them in the favored pattern, he turned and walked back inside. Katie was curled up on one of the couches, feet pulled up underneath her, a large hardbacked book in her lap. She looked up when he entered, and smiled.
"Can I get you anything?"
"No, Katie, thanks. I'm just gonna take a walk." He passed through the room and went out the side door.
Puffin Island was small, but beautiful. Surrounded by rocks, tall evergreens, and the most magnificent stretch of water there was. Blair inhaled deeply, letting the salt water fill his nose, willing it to penetrate his mind. Last night's sleep, coupled with his getting through Jim's anger relatively unscathed, was giving him a more hopeful outlook. Beverly would get a second trial underway as soon as she could. Of course, that probably meant Blair would be forced to take the stand again, but at least now he knew what to expect. And, he knew he could get through it. Thank God David Lash had died. Blair wasn't sure he could have taken the stand in that case, either. Telling people he knew about these incidents was hard, too hard. Telling a room full of strangers, jurors and judges, was one of the hardest things Blair had ever done. Even his own mother had no idea her only son had nearly been the 5th Cascade victim of a serial killer. Or that he had once been shot by an international hit man while undercover for Jim. And he certainly hadn't told her about the Golden incident. He knew Jim had tried to call her, when he feared for Blair's life in the hospital all those hours, but she was out of the country, and by the time Blair heard from her again via postcard, the entire episode was in the past.
But now...now he knew he could do it again, if he had to. Blair reached the far end of the island, even walking slowly and enjoying the view, in less than 15 minutes. He stopped and looked out over the water, squinting a little against the glare of sun off crystal blue water. Occasionally a pleasure boat passed close enough for its occupants to examine the private island, and wave to the lone man on the hill above them. Blair tried to pick out Clive and Jim in the distant group of circling fishermen, but they were too far offshore to easily identify. Jim's sweatshirt was a welcome addition against the chill coming off the waters, but Blair decided he'd had enough nature walking. It was time for more coffee.
Just as he turned to head back to the station, something hard slammed into his jaw, spinning him around and sending him crashing face down to the hard ground, dazed and unable to move for a second. One second seemed to be all his attacker needed. Before Blair could comprehend that he had just been slugged, rough hands grabbed his, wrenching them both behind him while a knee pressed into his back.
Oh God! Not again! Not here! Blair struggled for all he was worth, desperate not to fall victim again, but helpless against the wire that was being wrapped around both wrists and the full force of Lee Brackett's knee pressing hard into his upper back, pinning him to the ground.
"Miss me, Chief?"
The knee forcing itself into Blair's back increased its pressure, and he cried out from the pain.
Lee reached down after securing Blair's hands, and grabbed one handful of shirt, and another of hair, lifting Blair to his feet.
"Damn you!" Blair spat, pulling against the hands that held him. God, he'd been so stupid in running, he hadn't even considered that a man like Brackett could find anyone he wanted to. And Blair had led him straight here. Straight to---Oh God, Katie! "If you've hurt anyone..."
"You'll what?" Brackett asked. Blair struggled again, desperately trying to pull away, get farther away. Lee just tightened his grip on Blair's hair and pulled him close, wrapping his other hand around Blair's throat and tightening it. "You know, I'm surprised. I would have thought someone who guided a Sentinel like Jim Ellison would be a little smarter. I guess there aren't any qualifications for being a sidekick, huh?"
"Damn you!" Blair could barely speak, could barely breathe with the pressure on his throat.
"You've said that already, Chief." He released the hand holding Blair's neck and pulled a gun from his pants, placing it against Blair's now sore throat.
God, it wasn't enough to fall victim to this man more than once, but to have him use Jim's own phrasing to taunt him like this, was more than Blair could take. He couldn't go through this again. Never again. He'd rather die, right here, right now, than go through anything Lee Brackett might have in mind. But what the hell could he do? He had become a victim again, and he was once again helpless. Somewhere in the distance, Blair heard motors, sounds other than the boats. The supply plane? Was that how he was planning to get away? And what about Katie? What had he done to her? Shit, where was Jim?
"Let's go inside, it's cold out here." The hand that held a fistful of Blair's hair remained where it was. Lee used his body to push Blair forward, towards the building, and Katie.
Blair tried to fight, tried not to walk forward, but just like before, he was helpless against the stronger man. His head was being forced slightly upward by the hand holding his hair, so he stumbled over rocks and tree roots that he couldn't see. His heart was racing, as was his mind. There had to be a way---there had to be something he could do.
"It won't work this time." Blair said, trying to look down as they approached a tree so he wouldn't fall over the exposed roots.
The hand holding him suddenly released, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. Before Blair could react, he was slammed up hard against the tree and Brackett's arm was pressing into his throat with increasing pressure. "Oh? And what makes you say that?" Blair struggled to breathe against the pressure on his windpipe. "You didn't trust Ellison when he told you this was all over, did you, Sandburg?"
Blair could feel himself beginning to pass out, then the arm relaxed and he gasped in air. The hand returned to his hair, grabbing a handful and slamming his head back against the tree. Blair tried not to cry out, but suddenly there was a pain in his right side where Brackett's gun was pressing in.
"It was so easy last time, taking you down right outside Ellison's own home. Keeping you downstairs, right below him. Injecting you with my favorite relic of the cold war. Did you enjoy that? 'Cause I've got more."
Oh God...Oh God not again! He couldn't go through that nightmare again.
"What makes you think you and Ellison can win this time?" Brackett released Blair's hair and spun him around again, forcing him once more towards the building with a hand on the back of his head.
He couldn't let this happen---not again! The wire holding his wrists together was biting into the skin, and the hand clutching his hair was relentless in its hold, as was the force pushing him forward. The side door opened to the research station's middle level, but Lee pushed him around to the back, so that they would enter through the basement level sliding glass doors.
Brackett shoved Blair hard against the wall, pressing his face against the wood, then reached down with his gun hand and opened the door, pushing it wide enough to shove him through, and follow. "Let's go." He forced Blair towards the stairs. "Up."
Blair started up the stairs, his head spinning with fear and desperation. He had to stop him...he had to do something. Something. Before the staircase began its first turn, Blair did the only thing he could, he threw himself back, knocking both himself and Brackett down the steps to the floor. What he was going to do next, he didn't consider...and it didn't matter. Even as he rolled over, Brackett was up and grabbing for his shirt again.
"Not too smart, Chief."
Blair looked up just as the fist slammed into his gut, doubling him over in pain. Brackett pulled his head back up and punched him again...forcing all of the air from his lungs and leaving Blair coughing, unable to cry out. He waited for another strike, but it didn't come. There was blood in his mouth, but with the stabbing pain in his gut, Blair wasn't sure if the blood was from his split lip, or if he had coughed it up. The room was spinning...what he could see of it while doubled over and gasping. It was too fast. It was all happening too fast.
"Now, you ready to walk up the stairs, or do I leave you down here and find the woman myself?" Brackett pulled him back to his feet and shoved Blair once again onto the staircase.
Before Blair could open his mouth to shout, to warn Katie and get her out before this madman found her, Brackett's hand released his hair and clamped down over his mouth. "One word, and she dies."
Blair knew he meant it. Brackett wouldn't hesitate to kill. Even when he'd forced Jim to help him get on that covert base, instead of knocking out the gate-guard, as Jim had done, Brackett had been prepared to kill the innocent man. Being held close to his captor by the hand on his mouth made it difficult to walk up the circular staircase that led to the living level. Blair prayed Katie would hear them, and somehow sense danger. She had to. She had to have heard the struggle downstairs. They were nearly at the top now, and Blair strained to see the floor above, to try and catch sight of Katie, and warn her somehow. Brackett's gun was pressed hard into Blair's right side, and the hand that was over his mouth moved once again to the back of his head, taking a fistful of hair. They were at the top now, and no sign of Katie.
"Where is she? Huh?" Brackett pulled Blair to a stop a few feet from the stairwell, shoving the gun roughly into his side.
"Who?" Blair asked, praying to God Katie had realized what was happening and run outside, anywhere.
"Don't get smart with me, Chief," Brackett spat out. "Call her."
"Go to hell." He couldn't believe he was saying that, but he knew---he knew there was no way he was going to go through what Lee Brackett had done to him before...not again.
"Maybe I should finish you here, and take her with me instead. Would you like that?" Brackett released his hold and pushed Blair forward, spinning him around as he did so. When Blair was facing him, Lee reached out for his shirt and raised the gun to Blair's head. "Call her."
Blair said nothing. Brackett would kill him, he knew. Kill him, then go after Jim. But, if Blair could somehow stall for time...time for Jim to realize what was happening, and take Brackett out, maybe Katie would be safe. If he called her, would she be killed outright? And if he didn't, would Brackett kill him, and go looking for her? Oh God, he couldn't go through this again...Brackett had to kill him this time...he had to.
Lee shook his head, smiling in a menacing way. "You just don't know when to listen, do you, Chief?"
God, if he calls me Chief once more... "I'm not playing your games anymore," Blair said. "Jim should have killed you when he had the chance." He paused. "I should have killed you."
Brackett laughed shortly, and with no humor. "Ellison won't kill if there's another way, he's too moral for that. And you...you just haven't got what it takes." He put the gun back into his belt and reached into his shirt pocket, withdrawing a syringe. "But I do."
God, no! Blair's blood suddenly ran cold---ice cold. He wanted desperately to run, but he was frozen with fear, and couldn't take his eyes from the syringe Brackett was holding. All the fear, the pain, the helplessness came rushing back, and he was unable to stop what was about to happen. Jim...please.
"It won't work this time," Blair said, his voice shaking. He could feel his heart threatening to pound right out of his chest. Oh God, he couldn't take his eyes off that needle. "Jim's here. He'll finish it this time." Please, Jim, don't let this happen...not again!
A sudden noise from upstairs startled them both. Brackett looked up quickly, and Blair made his move. It was stupid, and fruitless considering the situation, but it was the only thing he could do, and his terror drove him to it. When Lee took his eyes off him, Blair lunged forward, slamming into Brackett and forcing them both to the floor. When they hit, Brackett's gun went off, sending a bullet to smash harmlessly into a kitchen cupboard. Blair desperately tried to roll over and get to his feet before his attacker, to get away from that needle, but with both hands wired together behind his back, his balance was thrown off. He made it as far as his knees before the fist slammed into his cheek, knocking him again to the floor, where he lay stunned and trying to catch his breath. Katie was upstairs. Brackett would kill her. There was no way off the upper level except for the stairs that led down to where they were now. Blair tried to force his legs up, tried to raise himself up, to do...something. If she was up there, she had the phone. He had just gotten his chest off the floor when he felt the hands on his back, pulling him up by the shirt. Blair's attempt to pull away was hampered by his dizziness from the blow, and Brackett had no trouble spinning him back around to face him.
"Nice try, Chief."
Damn him! Blair glared at Brackett, but before he could tell the man where he'd like to see him, a knee came up, slamming hard into his stomach and forcing every ounce of air violently from his lungs for the second time. Blair doubled over, and would have fallen had Brackett not still held him up. Oh God, get this over with!
Brackett wrapped an arm around Blair's throat and pulled him close again, presenting the syringe he had retrieved from the floor. "I've got a new one to try out this time."
"Freeze!" Jim burst through the front door, gun already aimed midpoint between Lee's eyes. "Drop it." He never took his eyes off his target area. The sight of one man in a small power boat landing at the far side of the island had immediately set off each and every one of Jim's alarms. One quick focus on the lone figure climbing the rocks was more than enough to identify Lee Brackett. How he had gotten out of Cascade without several detectives and uniformed officers on his trail, he didn't know. And right now, that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was stopping the man who seemed hell-bent on killing Blair.
"Not this time, Ellison." Brackett had dropped the syringe when he heard the door burst open, and drawn the gun, holding Blair as a shield between himself and Jim. "This time it ends, here and now."
Jim thought he'd have time. Time to find out what Brackett wanted to do, get him to taunt the two of them as he so dearly loved to do. Time to get a better shot, and take him out. But as Brackett finished his sentence, and cocked his gun, the trigger was already squeezing home. It was his nightmare all over again. He'd failed Blair, and the trial had fallen through the huge gaping holes known as the justice system. His partner had every right to hate him right now, hate him for failing to save him from this madman. And now he had no choice but to take a shot, and pray to God above his aim was true. Blair flinched the instant Brackett's gun cocked, and tried to push backwards, to knock the man off balance. At the same time, Jim took aim and fired, watching in gut-wrenching slow motion as the bullet flashed out of his gun, and slammed into---slammed into---who?
Both Blair and Lee fell to the floor. Neither one moved. Jim's heart stopped, he was sure of it. It was the nightmare. He had aimed at Lee, he knew it, he was sure. He saw the blood staining Blair's chest even as he ran to them both. Oh God---he'd done it--it was real!
"Blair!" He grabbed his partner, rolling him onto his back, off of Brackett. "Blair!"
"I'm okay." Blair tried to scramble to his feet, desperate to put distance between himself and Brackett.
Jim's relief nearly overwhelmed him as he realized it wasn't Blair's blood, but Brackett's, that had spread across his sweatshirt when the two of them fell together. He helped Blair to his feet and the younger man backed away, looking down at Brackett.
"Is he...?"
Jim turned and reached a hand out, feeling for a pulse he already knew wasn't there. He shook his head, then stood and walked to Blair. "He's dead, Chief." The Coast Guard boat Jim had seen approaching from the distance was landing at the dock in front of the center. He glanced up the stairs where Clive was now rushing to check on his wife. When he returned his gaze to Blair, he had to reach out quickly to steady the younger man. "Easy, easy, Chief. Are you hurt?" Quickly Jim examined Blair again, scanning his eyes for any sign of a serious injury.
Blair was shaking his head. "No, I'm okay. I just can't---Jim, are you sure?"
He was nearly in shock with relief. Jim took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "He's dead, Blair. He's dead. It's over." Numbly, Blair seemed to accept that, but he still couldn't take his eyes off Brackett's lifeless body, as if fearing it would suddenly re-animate. He was shaking uncontrollably. "It's okay, Blair, it's over." Jim pulled him close, holding his partner for a full minute, as much to reassure himself that his friend was alive as to ease Blair's fear that Brackett wasn't dead. He stood still, leaning into Jim, pressing his face into the larger man's shoulder, but unable to return the gesture with his hands still secured behind his back. Jim held him until the worst of the shaking subsided, and he could hear Simon coming up the landing. He released Blair and looked down at him. "Turn around." Jim could have walked around his friend to remove the crude restraints binding his wrists, but he knew if he could get Blair's eyes off his now dead tormentor, more the better.
Voices could be heard now, coming up the pier and the steps that led to the landing. Jim had recognized Simon's voice even before the boat docked.
"Ellison!" Simon burst through the front door, gun in hand.
"Over here, Captain," Jim called out. He had finished with the wire and Blair stood, rubbing his wrists, trying not to look back at the body.
"Jim, are you two all right?" Simon approached running, gun still drawn, until he spotted the body of Lee Brackett on the floor beside them. "Is he...?"
"Yes. He's dead."
"Gave Randall the slip this morning. We figured he'd head out here, if he was half as good as they said he was."
"He was, Captain."
Simon walked over to stand next to the body lying behind the couch, and gazed down at him. "Thank God that's over with." He looked back up to Jim, then Blair. "Sandburg, you've got some explaining to do."
Jim nodded, smiling slightly as Simon turned to face Blair. He wasn't going to interfere with the Captain and his chastising of Jim's wayward partner, but he also kept a hand on his shoulder, unwilling to let go while he was still in a state of shock. Whatever scolding he received wouldn't change the fact that Blair was alive, they both were, and Lee Brackett wasn't. Jim looked at Blair, who was looking now at Simon. Standing there, in Jim's Cascade PD sweatshirt that was now stained in blood, with blood of his own trickling down an already swelling lip, large purple welt developing quickly on his right cheek. He was in obvious pain, and not just physical. Add to that, the look of shock and the desire to be sick still lingering on his face, and it was more than Simon could bear. And Jim knew it.
"We'll talk about this later," Simon said gruffly. Jim smiled again as Blair nodded sheepishly.
"Right, Captain."
"Come on, Chief, let's get you cleaned up." Jim put a hand on Blair's back and gently propelled him away from Brackett's body, towards the waiting Katie and Clive.
"I've got a team already on its way out here, Jim."
"Thanks, Simon." The Captain stayed with the body, and was quickly joined by the two officers who had accompanied him on the boat. Jim and Blair reassured Katie that all was well. She insisted on fussing over Blair's split lip and bruises, but Jim refused, telling her and Clive to go upstairs where they wouldn't have to watch the team that was now surrounding the body. Jim's sweatshirt was removed and tossed into the laundry before Katie agreed to go upstairs. A few minutes later, a second Coast Guard cutter landed outside, crowding itself against the pier behind the first one. Jim left Simon and the others in the living room while he ushered Blair into the center's first aid room and gently pushed him down onto the edge of the lone bed. The living area, with Brackett's body and the officers preparing to bag him up, was visible from the room, so Jim shut the door. Blair was being too quiet, and he knew it wasn't just from the physical injuries. Suddenly he wrapped both arms around his stomach and leaned forward, rocking back and forth.
"Blair, it's all right." Jim quickly took him by the shoulders, thinking he was going to be sick. "It's all right, buddy. Do you need to be sick?" Blair just shook his head, but continued to rock slowly. "It's okay. Hey, partner, look at me." Jim waited until Blair could raise his head. "It's okay. Let me have a look at you." He let go of one shoulder so he could put a hand on his partner's chin, raising his face so he could examine the bruised cheek and split lip. "I wanna get this cleaned up." Jim stood, keeping one hand on Blair as he reached around the small room for some gauze and antiseptic. After gathering what he needed, he pulled the one chair up next to the bed and sat down facing his partner. "Talk to me, buddy. This isn't the time to clam up." He lifted Blair's chin again and gently began to dab the blood off his lip.
"Ow!" Blair hissed, but didn't pull away.
"Sorry."
"Jim, how did you know he was here?" Blair's voice was still shaking.
"Clive and I were making our way around the island, and I saw a small boat land on the opposite side. I saw Brackett climbing the rocks up to where you were standing." He finished Blair's lip and examined the cheek. He couldn't voice the desperation he had felt, being unable to stop what he could see was about to happen, until he could get that small boat back to shore. The fear that had made that trip seem to take hours. The uncertainty of making it back in time to stop that madman. "Blair, I'm sorry."
He looked up at Jim, a puzzled expression on his face. "Jim..."
"No, Blair, I'm sorry." He had finished cleaning the bruised skin and now tossed the gauze into the sink. "I told you this would never happen again."
Blair shook his head slowly. "Jim, don't."
The combination of his friend's shaking voice, and his still shaking body, convinced Jim this topic needed to end. "Let me have a look." He gently pried Blair's arms away from his stomach and eased his shirt up. The bruises were spreading nicely across his abdomen, but none were near the ribs. With one hand on Blair's shoulder he pushed him back just enough to get him leaning on the wall behind him so Jim could examine the bruises. As carefully as he could, Jim applied his Medic training to determine if there were any serious injuries or signs of internal bleeding. Blair winced several times, but never once cried out or insisted Jim stop. "Okay, partner. I think you'll live." He smiled and pulled Blair's shirt back down, helping him sit back up straight again. "I think we should stay here tonight, if you think you can handle that."
Blair looked up and was about to answer when the door opened slowly.
"I think that's an excellent idea." Katie popped her head into the room, then opened the door wider so she could produce Jim's now clean and dried sweatshirt. "Here you go, nice and warm."
Jim reached out and took the sweatshirt, handing it to Blair. "We don't want to intrude, Katie."
"Nonsense. You're both staying here. Clive is speaking with the Coast Guard skipper right now, arranging a ride for you tomorrow. And I've invited your Captain to join us. The rest of them have gone."
Jim suddenly realized he hadn't been paying any attention to the goings on in the other room. He took a quick scan and heard only Simon and Clive speaking with someone down on the dock. The rest of the officers were gone, as was the second boat. He looked down at Blair, who was easing himself into Jim's sweatshirt. "What do you say, partner? You need to get some rest." Blair's head came through the shirt and he eased it down, nodding. He was still being too quiet, and Jim knew it was going to hit him soon. He'd rather they were there, in a calming atmosphere, when reality hit his friend, instead of on a long boat ride back to Cascade. "I'll talk to Simon. Let's get you into bed, Chief."
Blair didn't protest being helped up, and Katie moved aside to let them come out of the little room. She walked back out to the living room and picked up a broom, sweeping away the dirt and grime the officers had tracked in. Jim had one hand on Blair's arm as he guided him down the hallway to the bedroom at the far end. He could feel the trembling that still wracked his partner's body, and he was fully prepared for Blair's sudden lunge into the bathroom as they approached. Blair was sick as soon as he reached the toilet. Jim held him, supporting his body as well as keeping his hair out of his face, until it was over.
"It's okay, partner." Jim flushed the toilet, then reached around to the sink and turned on the tap water. Blair eased himself to his feet with Jim's help and leaned over the sink where he rinsed his mouth out and splashed cold water on his face. Jim kept a hand on his back, ready if Blair should need to be sick again. "It's okay."
Blair finished cleaning himself up, then shook his head, still bent over the sink. "I'm sorry, Jim."
He handed Blair a towel and rubbed the back of his shoulders. "Nothing to be sorry about, Chief. You're exhausted. Your body just reacted in a very normal way to a week's worth of stress, and more adrenaline than most men could handle." Blair raised himself up, glancing at Jim apologetically. "Better?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I guess."
"Good. Come on, you need some rest." Jim opened the door, then took Blair once again by the arm and walked him to the bedroom. His partner wasn't very steady on his feet, so he got Blair seated on the bed, then listened for Simon's voice coming back up the landing. "I gotta go talk to Simon, partner. Will you be okay for a minute?"
Blair nodded as he eased both legs onto the bed, cradling his sore stomach with both hands. "I'm fine, Jim. Thanks."
"I'll be right back. Just going down the hall for a second." Jim patted his shoulder, then left, shutting the door only halfway in case Blair needed to get to the bathroom again in a hurry, but enough so he'd feel some privacy if he needed it. He'd just go speak with Simon, then return to keep an eye on his partner. Blair needed time, but he didn't want to leave him alone for more than a second or two. It was only the beginning...but it was the beginning of the end.
"Oh, we couldn't impose on you any further." Simon was saying to Clive as Jim came out to the living area. "I know this hasn't been easy on you two."
"Nonsense." Katie said as she joined the men. "Blair's not going anywhere, not tonight." She glanced at Jim, then Simon. "I had no idea this was the reason he came out here. But after seeing what little I did, I can't blame him for being terrified of that man." She shuddered slightly and moved closer to her husband. "We've only had a scare, and a brief one at that. You're the ones who need a break."
"Captain, I think it would be a good idea if Blair and I stayed here tonight. He's been through hell, and this is a good place to recover in." Jim smiled knowingly at Katie. "This isn't easy for him."
"How is he?" Simon asked, nodding towards the bedroom at the end of the hall.
"He'll be okay, Simon. But he needs time to digest it all. So do I."
Simon nodded.
"Do join us, Captain. I'm sure we can arrange to get a boat or seaplane out here tomorrow to take you back."
Simon glanced at Jim, then Clive. "You're sure this is all right? 'Cause I could use a night away from it all."
"Of course. I've spoken with the captain of that cutter, he's a good friend." Clive had finally got his pipe lit. "Dear, how about an early dinner?"
"We've got fresh salmon, if that interests anyone."
"Salmon? Jim, why haven't you told me about this little island before?" Simon's eyes were brimming with delight.
Katie laughed. "Captain, we have a wealth of delicacies here."
"Just don't eat the urchin," Jim said, winking at Katie.
"Tell me, how do you prepare it?"
"Are you a chef, Captain?"
"Well, I do cook for myself, and I've been experimenting with seafood lately."
"How about you come on into the kitchen, and we can discuss it." Katie wrapped her arm through one of Simon's and began to lead him towards kitchen.
"My pleasure." Simon followed, glancing back once at Jim who was smiling and shaking his head slightly.
Jim returned to the bedroom to stay with Blair, and be there when he needed him. It was over now, for good this time. Blair had nothing more to fear from Lee Brackett, and neither did Jim. The nightmares he'd been having of shooting his partner had not come true. They could end now. And in a few years, maybe the memory of what had happened wouldn't hurt so much to recall. But, he doubted that.
"Hey, Chief. How you feeling?" Blair was on the bed, leaning against the wall with both arms still wrapped around his stomach. He looked up and Jim could see fear still in those expressive eyes.
"I'm okay," Blair replied shakily. He looked away, out the windows, and swallowed compulsively.
Jim moved to the other bed and sat down, facing his partner. "It's over, Blair. He's dead. He isn't coming back."
Blair nodded, still staring out the window. "Yeah, it's over."
There was a hollow quality to Blair's voice that Jim didn't like. "Sandburg...look at me." Jim waited, and it took nearly a minute for Blair to pull his eyes away from the window. He was in shock, or close to it. "Blair, it's over."
"Right, Jim," Blair agreed, nodding again. He swallowed, wincing a little, then closed his eyes. No sooner had he closed them, than they shot open again and Jim heard the sudden, sharp intake of breath.
"What? Chief, what is it?" Jim had been taken by surprise by Blair's sudden start.
"It's still there." Blair replied through clenched teeth.
"What's still there?" Was he having another flashback?
"Every time I close my eyes, it's still there." Blair had turned to look at Jim, and his eyes were filled with desperation and anger. "It won't go away."
"Sandburg, what won't go away?" Jim leaned forward, concerned now. Should he get ready for Blair to suddenly zone out like he had that night?
Blair was shaking. "That needle. It's still there!"
Jim hurried off his bed and sat down next to Blair, putting a hand on each shoulder. "Blair, listen to me. It's over." He gripped Blair's shoulders tightly for a second, looking into his eyes. "He'll never be back."
Blair was shaking his head, looking everywhere but into Jim's eyes, that now-famous negative expression on his face.
"Yes, it is," Jim insisted. Oh man, he was going into shock. And who could blame him? "Blair...Blair look at me." He had to wait again for his friend to look into his eyes. "I killed him. He's dead. Brackett's dead. There was no injection, not this time. Not any time again. You're all right." Blair was looking at him, and slowly that look of negativity began to change into desperate hope. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and tell me what you see." Blair shook his head. "Trust me, partner, I'm right here. Just close your eyes and tell me what you see." He had to get him to at least try. Make Blair's mind accept the truth and stop falling into that hole that would soon send his whole body into shock. Jim kept his hands on Blair's shoulders, reassuring him as best he could.
Blair took a deep, shaking breath and held it for a second, as long as he could against sore abdominal muscles. When he released the air, he closed his eyes.
"What do you see?"
Blair shook his head, then opened his eyes, looking at Jim. "Nothing." He sighed again and Jim released his grip on Blair's shoulders but kept one hand on his arm . "I'm okay. Thanks, Jim."
"No, Blair, you're not okay. But you're going to be." Jim waited for his words to sink in. "Listen, Chief, don't underestimate what has happened...but don't give it too much credit, either. You've been through hell, and no one's going to deny that. But it's over now. You can let it go, he can't hurt us anymore."
Blair nodded, glancing down at the floor for a moment. "I know. I was just...just.."
"Scared."
"Yeah." Blair looked back up, raising his eyebrows. "Yeah, I was."
Jim nodded. "So was I, partner. So was I." He sighed, noting then the odors wafting in from the kitchen. "Listen, we're staying here tonight. Simon's in there right now helping Katie mix up something to ruin the salmon with." Blair laughed just slightly, but it was a good sign. "Come on out and get something to eat."
"I'm not really hungry, Jim."
Jim reached down and took Blair gently by one arm. "I didn't ask if you were hungry." He pulled until Blair unfolded himself and swung his legs off the bed. "Come on, at least sit out there and be with people." He propelled Blair down the hallway in front of him, moving slowly to accommodate Blair's bruised condition. He would have stayed with him in the room, but he knew being around friends would help greatly in getting Blair's mind back on track. And Jim would stay close, just in case.
"The Skipper thought our visitors might like a change of clothes. Something to take the evening chill off." Clive indicated several sweatshirts and pants that were draped over the back of the couch. "It's getting chilly in here already. I think a fire is in order." Clive gripped his pipe between his teeth and walked to the fireplace.
Jim reached out to the pile of Coast Guard sweats and picked up a shirt for himself. He wanted Blair to keep his on, even though he looked pretty small inside the old Cascade P.D. sweatshirt Jim used after his workouts. "Simon, this is a side of you I've never seen." Jim said as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head.
"Oh? I wasn't aware you thought you knew everything there was, Jim," Simon replied good-naturedly from the kitchen. "Just wait till you taste this." He was stirring some kind of sauce, that Jim finally had to admit smelled rather good.
Blair moved around behind Jim and eased himself onto the couch.
"How about some coffee?" Katie had returned to the kitchen and was removing the old filter and grounds.
"Sounds good." Jim sat in a chair right beside the couch his partner was curled up on. He kept a watchful eye on Blair while Simon and Katie cooked, and Clive lit and re-lit his pipe, conversing about nearly every topic under the sun that had nothing at all to do with what had just happened. Jim marveled at, and appreciated Clive's ability to avoid a subject without ever giving the audience time to realize there was a subject being avoided. And, he was grateful that they all played along masterfully. The more they could convince Blair, either consciously or subconsciously that all was well, the better. He was sitting there on the couch, listening to Clive and drinking tea to settle his understandably sore stomach. After an hour of calming conversation and tantalizing odors from the kitchen, dinner was ready.
Jim gave Blair a hand off the couch and they walked to the table in the corner that they had enjoyed last night. He still insisted he couldn't eat, but Jim made him join the dinner group anyway, wanting to keep him in the conversation, and not willing to let him sit on that couch and think too much. With Katie's coaxing, Blair did manage to eat some salmon, and even answer a few casual questions Jim and Clive made a point of sending his way. Simon occasionally shot Jim a reassuring glance that he returned. When dinner was over, Blair was looking a little more human, but Jim and Katie refused to let him help with dishes. Jim sent his partner right back to the couch, then he assisted in the kitchen, while Clive took Simon upstairs to enjoy one of his 'special' coffees. Jim kept an ear open, and the occasional eye on Blair as he sat on the couch, idly thumbing through a journal while they washed and dried the dishes. By the time they finished cleaning up, it was dark outside, and the stress of the day had begun to catch up. Jim yawned mightily, noting that Blair was nearly asleep on the couch.
"Katie, again I can't thank you enough for all you've done." Jim hung the towel he had used on a peg and turned to her. "You're a pretty special person."
Katie smiled knowingly. "So are you, Jim Ellison. You go to great lengths to take care of a friend of ours. And for that, I'm grateful." She stretched up on her toes and kissed Jim on the cheek. "Keep up the good work, okay?"
Jim laughed lightly. "Okay." With that, he walked to the couch and put a hand on his half-asleep partner. "Come on, Chief. You're asleep, might as well lie down." The adrenaline, emotions, and physical stress had finally reached peak volume, then dropped, leaving a young man who could barely find the energy to walk down the hall. Jim snagged a pair of the loaned sweat pants along the way, and told Blair to put them on against the chill. He complied, moving slowly, but finally getting his jeans off and the sweat pants on. He kept Jim's sweatshirt on, and as soon as he was dressed, he fell into bed, working his feet under the blankets. Jim pulled the blankets up once Blair's feet were inside, then he crossed the room and began to get out of his own jeans. He had a better tolerance for cold, even before he had learned to dampen his tactile response, and preferred to sleep in just his shorts. Tonight, the chill was just enough to warrant keeping the sweatshirt on, and letting the blankets come halfway up. Jim reached up to turn out the lights, and was going to tell Blair once again that everything was all right, but his partner was sound asleep.
Blair was alone in the living room, looking down at the body of his tormentor. Jim had shot him, but then turned and left, leaving Blair alone in the room. He watched in horror as Brackett's eyes suddenly shot open, searching the room for him. Oh God---Oh God---Jim! He was frozen in place, unable to move or even turn his head. He was helpless. Helpless again to stop Lee Brackett from coming towards him, syringe glistening in the moonlight. He was laughing as Blair tried desperately to move, to cry out for Jim. He was dead! Jim said he was dead!
"It's not over yet, Chief."
No!---God--No!
Blair shot up in bed.
"Blair!" Jim was there, beside him, reaching out. He caught him by both arms and sat on the bed. "Blair, easy, it's okay."
Blair looked at him, terrified for one split second, then relieved as he realized the nightmare was over, and it was Jim, not Brackett, holding him now and sitting on the bed. Blair let out the breath he had drawn in so violently. He was shaking again, and there was sweat built up on his face. "I'm okay." He sniffed, then reached up to push some sweat-soaked hair from his face. "I'm okay." God, he was soaking wet, and the shaking of his hands startled even him.
"Nightmare?"
Blair nodded.
"Him again?"
Blair was looking at the blankets and nodded again, slowly, with his lips pursed. He laughed lightly then and glanced up. "I'm sorry, man. Nightmares are for kids."
Jim shook his head. "No, Chief, kids don't hold the market on fear. I've been having them off and on for weeks. But they'll stop now. I promise."
Blair looked up. "Jim, how many have you had?" That was something Jim still hadn't talked to him about. Knowing his friend had the same problem, both upset and comforted him.
"Enough," Jim replied. He sighed. "The first one was two months ago, the one you woke me from."
Blair nodded. "Yeah, I remember that one." How could he ever forget? It was the first time he'd ever known Jim to have a nightmare, and one that Blair had to wake him from. He shivered a little and drew his arms in, hugging himself inside Jim's sweatshirt. The thing was too big, and knowing it had just recently been covered in Lee Brackett's blood should have made him not want to put it on, but he did. He was grateful Jim hadn't wanted to switch when he put on the Coast Guard sweatshirt. Blair needed all he could hold onto right now.
"Well, I never really told you about it, did I?" Blair looked at Jim questioningly and he continued. "That one wasn't the worst. In that one, I killed you."
"What? Jim, you never mentioned that."
"I know. I couldn't. It was just too real." Jim shook his head "I fired at Brackett, but killed you instead. And for weeks I kept seeing that, over and over in my head. Me, firing at Brackett, and killing you."
"But that never happened, Jim." He had shot Brackett, back at the warehouse, but never killed him. And never even come close to hurting Blair.
"I know. But that didn't make the feeling go away, or the nightmares end. And then the other night, it changed." Jim stopped.
Blair was watching him quietly. He wanted Jim to finish, to tell him about the others. But by the same token, he was terrified still by the one he had just had. A length of sweat-soaked hair fell into his face and he reached up with one hand to push it back, then returned the hand to his throbbing stomach.
Jim sighed and continued. "When the trial came up, the nightmare changed to a courtroom, only this time instead of killing you, or him, it was you who killed me."
Blair was stunned for a moment, then shook his head. "Jim..." Where could that have come from?
"No, Blair, it was just a nightmare. There's no analyzing these things, they just happen. But it's over now." He paused. "What about you, Chief? What do you keep seeing?"
Blair shook his head. "I can't...Jim.." He stopped and looked at Jim, pleading with his eyes for his partner not to make him relive them. He never wanted to see them again.
"Blair, it's just a dream. It can't hurt you. Let it go."
He swallowed hard, looking back at the blanket still covering his legs. It took him a few seconds while he struggled with the memory so fresh in his mind, but he finally came to a conclusion. "I just keep seeing that damn needle. And not being able to move." Blair was looking down, not at Jim, and one arm had unwrapped itself to allow the fingers of his left hand pluck at the blanket fuzz. He faltered, but Jim said nothing. "And then he's there, at the hospital, and you...and you just step aside and he comes back...back with another needle." Blair stopped, shaking his head. "I just keep seeing that damn needle." His voice was shaking.
Jim put a hand on Blair's shoulder. "And you'll never see it again. It'll take time, Chief, but it will go away."
Blair nodded, but only mouthed his affirmative, raising both eyebrows. God, he wanted to believe that more than anything.
"Do you want to stay awake, or can you get some sleep? You need the rest."
"Yeah, I'm fine, Jim." He'd rather not try again, but he was having trouble keeping his eyes open, try as he might. But since Jim was there, in the same room in case---No, he was dead. He was.
"You sure? You want anything?"
Blair glanced up for a moment, looking rather sheepish. "Well, there is...if you wouldn't mind...?" He knew he had no right to ask, Jim had done enough. Blair was feeling just a little guilty, taking advantage of his friend's concern, but he was appreciating it.
"What, Chief? Whaddaya need?" Jim's voice was still quietly reassuring.
"My shoulders are killing me. I've been so tensed up..."
Jim smiled, laughing slightly, and pushed Blair forward just enough for him to reach his partner's shoulders and begin to massage some of the stress away.
He had realized Jim was trying to help back there in the courthouse. He'd felt bad, not being coherent enough to appreciate what his friend had done, trying to comfort him after that ordeal on the witness stand. But he needed it now, more than before. Or at least, as much. Jim worked out the knots, and Blair began to relax, allowing himself to calm down. A few minutes later, and his trembling eased.
"You're really something, you know that, Jim?" Blair had his eyes closed, and was trying to concentrate on the relaxing feeling of the shoulder massage, willing that feeling of comfort to spread over his entire, shaking body and mind.
"What to you mean, Chief?"
"You're a rock, man. Nothing fazes you."
"That's not true, Sandburg. Everything fazes me."
Blair started to shake his head, there was no way that was true. Everything Blair had seen over the many months he had been with Jim, all the things they had been through, the man was granite. Not unfeeling, but completely unshakable. Jim's hands gripped his shoulders once, then massaged again.
"Yes, everything," Jim continued. "Maybe I process it differently, but that's all. Why do you think I was having nightmares, huh? What made me go out of my mind with worry from the moment you were affected by Golden until two days after you were home safe?"
Blair was slowly processing Jim's words as he fought the fatigue creeping over him. He began to realize that maybe what he had just said wasn't fair, but he'd never noticed any outward signs. Except maybe when Danny Choy was killed, Blair had never seen his friend so distraught. Jim just had a different way of presenting himself to the world around him. A quieter way. A steadier way.
"You know, there's a bright side to this you haven't considered."
"Oh?" Blair was really feeling drowsy again, despite his fear of falling asleep.
"You don't have to go back into that courtroom."
Blair laughed and he shook his head. Trust Jim to find something good out of all this. He turned then and Jim stopped massaging his shoulders. "Thanks, Jim." He was exhausted all over again, and feeling calmer now.
"No problem, Chief." Jim moved off the bed and back to his own as Blair lay back down.
He knew Jim was sitting there, watching him, and he wanted to tell him it was okay, that he could just go back to sleep, but he didn't. The last thing Blair expected to do, was fall asleep again. But his trembling had finally stopped, and he was very aware of his friend right there, in the room. It couldn't have been more than five minutes before he was fast asleep.
Simon and Clive spent the next morning reviewing tapes of the old wreck that Clive's students had captured on video using Igor. Jim joined them for some of the footage, pointing out the finer parts of the wreck that he had seen. By the time the Coast Guard boat returned, it was late morning.
Jim came back downstairs ahead of the rest of them to grab his bag. Blair was waiting in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee.
"Hangin' in there, Chief?" Jim asked before he went down the hallway. He'd been a lot more himself that morning, and Jim was willing to leave him alone while in the bathroom, and then again for a few minutes while he joined Simon and Clive upstairs, all the while listening to Blair and Katie having breakfast. There was still an edge of fear he was trying to hide, and he needed another week of sleep, but Jim was feeling better about his partner's recovery.
"Yeah. Thanks, Jim." Blair suddenly set the cup down and glanced around the room quickly. "Listen, Jim..."
He held up a hand. "Sandburg, don't say you're sorry or anything, all right? We've been down that road before. It doesn't lead anywhere." He lowered his hand and looked up the stairs to see Simon heading down. Jim glanced back at Blair, noting the purple swelling of his lip, the redness in both eyes and the bruise on his cheek. No, he'd be safe from Simon's wrath with that face. For a few more days, anyway. He put a hand on Blair's shoulder and rocked him back slightly. "Let's go home, huh?"
Blair just nodded, raising both eyebrows as he did so.
Jim retrieved his bag and they all said their goodbyes, once again apologizing for the visit and thanking them for the extension. As they walked down the pier to the waiting boat, Jim sighed deeply, glancing at Blair. "You know, Sandburg, I've been thinking."
Blair looked up but said nothing.
"I think it's time we invested in a larger hot water tank."
Simon chuckled as he stepped onboard.
"You know, Jim, that's something I've been meaning to ask you." Blair reached the side of the boat, then turned to Jim. "You and Carolyn, how did you manage with that little thing?"
Simon's chuckle turned into a laugh, and Jim's grin widened. "Sandburg, no one's ever accused you of being a romantic, have they?" Jim tossed his bag onto the deck and shook his head. "We were married, Chief."
Blair made a face. "Ah, yeah."
Jim nodded. "Yeah."
Simon looked at Jim and rolled his eyes. "Kid's got a hell of a lot to learn about romance."
They both enjoyed that the entire trip back.
End

