I would have liked to have gone back and rewritten this, because as you will see, it is VERY primitive and rough compared to my later stuff. Additionally, this was written at the start of season 2, waaaay before Sentinel Too and TSbyBS. So a lot of what you will read in this story no longer makes sense canonically. But I really just don't have the time to rewrite, and I would rather this get posted instead of just rotting on my hard drive.
So here it is. My very first ever TS story, and the conclusion (finally) to The Ice Man Trilogy. Tolkein, eat your heart out.
Blair Sandburg cursed under his breath, and brushed his long hair out of his face for what seemed like the millionth time.
"I swear, I'm gonna cut you off if you don't stay out of my face!" he muttered through his teeth.
"I'm not sure I wanna know what you meant by that, Chief!" Jim Ellison was snickering as he came down the stairs of the loft he and Blair shared, pulling on a sweatshirt. "Are you mad at me or something?"
"No, I'm talking to my hair...DAMN!"
His older friend grinned at the foot of the stairs. "TV still not working?" Jim crossed the floor and came around to where Blair was crouched behind the television, up to his elbows in tubes, wires and circuits. He leaned down to inspect his roommate's handiwork. "Why don't you just let me call a repair guy, Chief?"
Sandburg had been inside the back of the television set for close to two hours already. Other than developing new and inventive expletives in several different languages. he hadn't made much progress.
"No Jim...this is my fault, and I'm going to fix it." The anthropologist's voice was muffled inside the bowels of the set. The TV had shorted out the previous morning in response to coffee being dumped on it. Blair had placed his cup on top of the set while he picked up one of his magazines off the floor. Somehow when he reached for the cup, his fingers had bumped it, knocked it over, and introduced the television to mocha java.
It didn't like it.
The resulting "POOOMF!!!", and the stench of burning circuits had brought Jim pounding down the stairs from his bedroom in alarm. That alarm quickly turned to irritation when he saw the smoking TV, and a very sheepish Sandburg quietly fingering the now-empty coffee cup.
"What did you do to my TV?" Jim had demanded, even though he had already pretty much deduced for himself what had happened. Didn't exactly take a detective to figure it out.
"I...I'm sorry Jim. It was an accident." Blair looked at the damage, and his trademark enthusiasm reared up. "Man, you should've seen this thing blow! Like something out of Independence Day! I mean it just...um...never mind." Blair had trailed off when Jim started to bristle. "I'll fix it Jim, I promise. I'm sorry." Without a word, Jim had turned and stomped up the stairs.
Hey, HEY....! I think I've got it!" Blair came up for air, triumphantly tossing his hair out of his face again. With a flair, he reached around and flipped the set on.
Nothing.
Jim suppressed a laugh as Blair's face fell. It was unreal how quickly his partner's emotions sometimes changed poles. He could be almost vibrating with excitement one minute; sulky and bummed-out the next. It was one of the many things Jim had been forced to get used to when he took Blair in. What had been unendingly annoying at first, he now accepted as part of his young friend's complex personality.
Blair swore softly and plunged into the set again, mumbling to himself.
"Chief, please...let me call someone. You can pay the repair bill, just come out of there and give it rest, OK? " Jim started toward the kitchen. "How about some breakfast?"
Laughter bubbled out from within the TV, increasing in volume as Blair emerged and sat back on his heels.
"I suppose there's a better chance of this thing working if we plug it in!" He nodded to the outlet in the wall.
"Well I'm glad you had the sense to unplug that thing before the two of you got so intimately involved!" Jim was chuckling as he crossed the room and picked up the plug. "Ready Chief?"
"Go for it, man!"
Jim plugged in the cord, and his Sentinel ears picked up the faint hum as electricity reached the set. He started back toward the kitchen, intending to start breakfast, which his partner seemed to have forgotten about.
Blair crawled on all fours around to the front of the TV, which was now humming happily to itself. He sat back on his haunches and frowned, puzzled.
"Huh...weird...still no picture." He came back around behind the set and reached in. "Maybe one of the connections isn't quite touching..."
"No... Blair, don't! WAIT!!!" Jim shouted, lunging toward the wall outlet with his hand outstretched. He moved fast, but not fast enough.
*BRZZZAAAAAAAAAPP!!!!!!*
Jim's senses were assaulted. By the sound of electricity discharging, by the smell of fried circuitry, and by the blinding flash that erupted from the television set. But all that was forgotten as he saw his best friend thrown violently backwards.
"*SANDBURG!*"
Jim crossed the room to his friend's side in two long strides. He dropped to his knees where Blair had landed, sprawled on his back more than ten feet from the smoldering television. The young man's eyes were closed, his hair was singed, and his body was still twitching slightly from the massive shock it had suffered. Alarmed, Jim leaned down and firmly shook Blair's shoulders a few times.
"Blair...*BLAIR!*" No response.
Jim's superior hearing confirmed what he had feared; the jolt had stopped Blair's heart, and he was not breathing. Jim whipped out his cell phone, which was easier to reach than the cordless, and dialed 911, all the time going over in his head the procedure for caring for electric shock victims. He began CPR, compressing Blair's chest with his huge hands.
"C'mon kid, don't do this to me!"
"911, what is your emergency?" The lady at the other end of the phone sounded way too calm. Jim pinned the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could talk, listen, and tend to his friend at the same time.
"This is detective Jim Ellison, I need an ambulance right away. I've got a victim who's suffered a powerful electric shock...no pulse, not breathing...hang on a sec!"
He laid the phone down as he heard the woman telling him the ambulance was on its way. Carefully he tilted Blair's head back, pinched his nose shut, and breathed a lungful of air into his partner's lifeless lungs. He listened, expecting (*hoping*) to hear Blair's heart begin to beat, for him to take a breath on his own. It wasn't happening.
He grabbed up the phone as the 911 operator was calling out to him, asking what he was doing.
"I'm administering CPR now. Please hurry! Thank you!" Tossing the phone away, he worked on chest compressions, and breathed into Blair's lungs a few more times. Still nothing. Jim's own heart was pounding in his throat. He listened for Blair's pulse again and swore. *Where was that ambulance!?*
Again and again he compressed Blair's chest and breathed into his lungs, to no avail. Sandburg's lips were starting to turn blue. He was running out of time.
"Sandburg, please...*breathe!* Just one breath.... C'mon, you can do it.... DAMN IT CHIEF, WORK WITH ME HERE!!!"
In desperation, Jim ceased the simple chest compressions, balled his fists together, and brought them down on his partner's chest...hard. He listened...still nothing. Again he sealed his lips over his friend's mouth and breathed into him. He was about to give Blair another two-fisted blow to the chest when he heard it.
"Thump *thump*...thump *thump*...thump *thump*...."
It was very faint, and slow, but it was a heartbeat nonetheless. Jim heaved a great sigh of relief and, as if in response, Blair suddenly gasped for air.
"That's it Chief. Good boy, c'mon keep it up!" Blair's chest began to rise and fall slowly, feebly. Jim almost fainted in relief. But it wasn't over, his friend was still unconscious, and showing no signs of waking up.
A new fear began creeping into Jim's brain, and he quickly jumped to his feet. He reached down and pulled Blair up with him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He dragged his unconscious friend toward the door, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the table. That ambulance was taking way too long, he couldn't wait any longer.
* * * * * * *
*I wonder how many laws I'm violating right now...* Jim thought, insanely. He made another vicious right turn, nearly putting the truck up on two wheels. The tires wailed their protest yet again, and Jim's right arm shot out instinctively to press his unconscious partner into the seat. He kept his hearing focused on his partner. Blair's breathing and heartbeat were still very faint. Faint, and terribly irregular, and there was still no sign of him waking up. This was bad...very bad.
Jim pushed the accelerator toward the floor.
He hadn't wanted to wait any longer for the ambulance to arrive. Besides, with his speedy truck, he could get to the hospital almost as fast, if he bent a traffic law or two. Cars were very quick to get out of James Ellison's path. This was partly due to the siren and flashing lights, but mostly because they didn't want to be driven over.
Jim glanced over at the passenger seat again, where he had strapped Sandburg in. The young anthropologist was slumped, boneless in the seat. He hadn't shown any signs of consciousness since the accident. Ellison reached out and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, hoping that maybe physical contact would help him, somehow...keep Blair with him.
"Hang on partner, we're almost there!"
Jim felt so *guilty*. If only he'd called a repairman, instead of letting Blair tamper with the television. If only Blair hadn't spilled the coffee in the first place. If only he'd been able to yank the plug out in time. If only...if only....
The only thing that was stronger than Jim's guilt was his fear...his concern. He knew the possible effects that a jolt of that strength could have on a person; he'd seen it before. People suffered brain damage from far less serious shocks than the one Blair had received. He'd heard of individuals dying from something as simple as a shock from a toaster. He had no idea how powerful a shock from the open circuits of a television set could be, but surely it was strong enough to...
*NO! I'm not going to think about that!*
But it was too late. Jim was suddenly struck by the very real fear that this could be it. He could lose Blair.
*I could lose him!* It had come so close to happening so many times before. There weren't too many people in the world that trouble seemed to follow around like Blair Sandburg. Jim thought he'd become sort of used to it. But suddenly he pictured going on in his life without his guide, his partner, his *friend.*
His vision was starting to get blurry. Jim blinked hard to clear it, and felt a tear slip down his cheek. Annoyed with himself, he brushed it away, while simultaneously gunning the truck's engine to the max, desperate to get his friend to the hospital and the people who could (*hopefully*) save his life.
* * * * * * *
The hospital ER was fairly quiet for a change. A doctor here and there, a handful of nurses and orderlies chatting quietly at the check-in desk. Basically a peaceful morning....
"*HELP!!* Somebody please, HELP ME!"
A man's voice bellowed through the quiet of the emergency room. Everyone within earshot started in surprise, then rushed into action as Jim Ellison came charging into their midst, eyes wild, and helplessly cradling Blair's limp body in his arms. He turned and rushed up to the nearest doctor.
"Help him...please...." Jim was out of breath from running and carrying his partner. "Electric shock...television...unconscious...more than twenty minutes!"
Seemingly out of thin air, a gurney appeared. With several nurses calming and reassuring him, Jim carefully laid down his precious burden. The whole convoy moved quickly down the corridor, Jim keeping Blair's hand in his all the way, trying to find any hint of consciousness in his friend's face. Jim felt numb and dizzy, but managed to answer the doctor's rapid-fire questions.
"Did you see it happen?"
"Did his heart stop at all?"
"Did he stop breathing?"
"I see...how long was he without oxygen?"
It went on and on. Jim knew it was necessary, but he was still impatient. "Look, you're wasting time here! DO SOMETHING!!"
The doctor was understanding, but firm. "All right, all right sir! Calm down. We'll do everything we can for him." The doctor and nurses were wheeling Blair into an examination room. Jim tried to follow, but an orderly stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"C'mon sir, there's nothing more you can do right now."
Jim caught a last glimpse of his friend as they shut the door. In a daze, he allowed the orderly to guide him over to the check-in table, where he was handed the mandatory mountain of forms.
"Just sit down and relax for a while, sir. It'll be OK." The orderly gave Jim a friendly smile as he moved like a sleepwalker into the waiting area, and sat down to fill out the paperwork.
He trained his Sentinel-sensitive ears on the room where they had taken Blair, hoping to get an idea of his condition. Over the babble of many voices and machines beeping, he caught portions of phrases in the doctor's voice.
"...Intense increase of elec... activity in...ebral cortex.... Too... pressure... may lose...."
BEEEEEEEEEP!!!!
" ...get him back! "
Horrified, Jim lurched to his feet and started toward the door, then he heard the tension in the voices begin to drop. "OK...close one...eye on brain wave...tivity...could...bad...."
Jim returned to his seat, relieved, and had felt his heart rate starting to slow. Then it suddenly threatened to stop altogether at the doctor's next words.
"Brain wave... everyth... decreasing! ...Too far..."
"...coma."
* * * * * * *
Blair was flying. No... not flying... more like floating. He couldn't feel anything around him; it was like being in a dream.
*Am I dreaming?* he thought absently. He couldn't remember going to bed...hell, couldn't even remember what day it was! *What's going on? Jim, where are you?*
Suddenly he became aware of other people in the room. Good, someone he could ask where he was, why he felt so strange. He turned toward one of the voices in the room...and froze.
He was hanging from the ceiling!
No, wait, not quite...more like he was hovering a few inches below the ceiling, looking down on a bunch of people crowded over a table of some sort. Harsh lights...lots of machines...a hospital? Yes, that was it. He saw a doctor now, wildly gesturing, snapping orders to the rest of his team.
*Something must not be going well* Blair thought. He found, to his surprise that he actually had some control over where he floated, so he came down for a closer look. He could see a figure lying on the table, electrodes all over, brown curly hair. Then one of the nurses stepped back, and Blair felt himself go cold as he saw his own body there, lifeless.
*Ohhhhh, my God.........I...I'm DEAD?!*
Cool! It was just like he'd read about. The floating, looking down on your own body...and then through the miracle of modern medicine the doctor brought you back, you recovered, and went on a talk show about it. He smiled to himself.
"I can't wait to tell Jim about this!" He looked down at the doctor standing at his head.
"OK guys, you can bring me back now....Hello?....Any time, doc."
Nothing happened for a minute. Blair was just beginning to wonder if he was acquiring frequent flyer miles when....
"Whoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooosh!"
*Whoosh? Is that what falling back into your body sounds like? Somebody call Oprah!* Blair started to giggle, and slowly sat up. The giggling stopped abruptly when he took in his surroundings. This wasn't a hospital.
He was in the jungle. He could hear birds and bugs and lizards and...! The thought of lizards sent Blair scrambling to his feet, instinctively holding onto the waist of his jeans. When he had assured himself that the only thing living in his pants was himself, he relaxed and looked around.
A dull throbbing in his right arm got his attention, and he brought it up to examine. He started at the sight of the burns that went from his fingertips to his shoulder. The sleeve of his T-shirt was scorched slightly, and upon further examination, so was his hair. What the hell....
Blair racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened. Before he woke up in the jungle (still couldn't explain that one), he'd been in a hospital...he'd been DEAD in a hospital! Then he remembered the sensation of re-entering his body, but why was he in the hospital?
*Think, Sandburg!* What was the first thing he'd done when he woke up that morning? Up early, for once. Even up before Jim (*where was Jim?*). Drinking coffee...COFFEE! He had spilled coffee, but...no that was the morning before. He'd spilled coffee on the TV.... Suddenly, it all came back to him in a rush. He'd been trying to fix the TV, he had reached in and....
"Oh Blair, how stupid can you get!?"
Blair angrily kicked at a clod of dirt. Electricity was not something you took lightly. He should have known that, after seeing the remains of Ray Weston hanging off that scaffolding. He looked around in despair. "So what now?"
"THAT IS UP TO YOU, LITTLE FRIEND."
Blair spun on his heel to face the owner of the deep, powerful voice. There, a few feet away, a black panther was crouching, staring at him with large, oddly intelligent yellow eyes. Blair stared at it, remembering the panther/Indian that Jim had told him about. As he stared, the panther's body began to stretch upward, elongating, becoming more human-like.
*This is your brain on drugs!* Blair thought hysterically.
The transformation was complete. Where there had once been a panther there now stood a seven foot tall Peruvian Indian chief. Blair's jaw was on the ground. Sure, Jim had told him all about this guy, in detail. But it was something totally different to see it happen right before one's eyes. Besides, up until now, he'd half suspected that Jim had hallucinated the whole thing.
"Ummmm...uhhhh...why am I in the jungle?" Blair knew he probably sounded stupid, but that really was one of the top questions on his list au moment.
"YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE I HAVE A NEW RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOU."
The Indian stepped forward as he spoke, and the resonance of his voice vibrated within Blair's chest. He couldn't help feeling a little scared, in the presence of the great being.
*I wish Jim were here* , he thought absently.
"HE IS THE REASON I HAVE SUMMONED YOU HERE."
Blair's head snapped up, and up, to meet the Indian's eyes. Was he a mind reader as well?
"I don't get it...Jim is why I'm here?" Blair was starting to feel that he was losing his mind. The big Indian smiled down at him.
"FOR MANY MONTHS NOW, YOU HAVE SERVED AS A GUIDE TO THE SENTINEL. NOW IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO PLAY A NEW ROLE IN HIS LIFE."
Blair nodded, and the Indian continued.
"YOU WILL AGREE WHEN I SAY THAT YOU HAVE, AT TIMES, BEEN A BIT OF...A NUISANCE TO YOUR PARTNER?"
Blair looked at the ground. So that was what this was about. The Indian had probably been keeping tabs on his Sentinel, so naturally he also had a track record of Sandburg's, well...screw-ups. He suddenly remembered that Jim had been extremely insistent that Blair call someone to fix the television, instead of trying to do it himself.
He gasped in realization. That was why this had happened! The thing with the TV must have been a test! His last chance to prove himself, to make the smart decision, *and he had blown it!* Now he was going to be punished...how? Would the big Indian keep him here? Erase his memory? Reincarnate him as a totally different person, one who never knew Jim Ellison? Forbid him to see Jim ever again?
This last thought brought tears to Blair's eyes, it seemed he hadn't seen his friend in ages. He just wanted to go home. He was so tired. His arm hurt. Why hadn't he listened to Jim and called the damned repair man!? Against his will, big tears began rolling down his face.
*Jim will be better off without me, I'm nothing but trouble.* He sniffled loudly, and suddenly felt a big hand on his head.
He looked up. The Indian smiled kindly at him again. He guided Blair over to a fallen tree, motioned for him to sit, and then sat beside him. Blair continued to sniff, and scrubbed angrily at the tears on his face.
*Good Blair, good. You're in the presence of a god, and you turn on the waterworks. He'll probably reincarnate you as a cockroach...*
"I DID NOT BRING YOU HERE FOR PUNISHMENT, YOUNG ONE."
Blair turned and met his eyes again, as he wiped the last of the moisture from his face. "You mean it? Even though I'm such a...nuisance?" Relief began to flood through him.
The Indian continued. "YES, YOU HAVE OFTEN FALLEN INTO SITUATIONS THAT HAVE IMPEDED THE SENTINEL'S MISSIONS. HOWEVER, THE REASONS ARE NOT THAT YOU ARE CARELESS OR FOOLISH. RATHER, YOU LACK THE TOOLS YOU NEED TO PROPERLY ASSIST YOUR PARTNER."
Blair gazed blankly at him. "What are you saying?"
If it were possible, the Indian's tone grew even more serious. "I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE TO RECEIVE A GIFT. SOMETHING THAT WILL MAKE BOTH OF YOUR MISSIONS EASIER."
He stared deeply into Blair's azure eyes, which were growing wider with every word. "YOU HAVE ALREADY SHOWN YOURSELF TO BE A SUITABLE GUIDE. NOW WE SHALL SEE WHAT KIND OF A SENTINEL YOU SHALL MAKE."
Blair felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. *Huh? Him...a Sentinel?!* His mind began to whirl, thinking of all the possibilities.
"IT WAS NOT EASY FOR YOUR PARTNER TO COME TO TERMS WITH HIS ABILITIES. YOU HAVE HELPED HIM BECOME WHAT HE IS TODAY."
Blair nodded again, calm on the outside, but inside he was thinking *COOL! I'm going to be a Sentinel...ME! Omigod omigod omigod...I'll be able to write papers about myself!!*
The Indian stood, and Blair followed suit. "CLOSE YOUR EYES," boomed the big voice. Blair obeyed, his heart racing as he felt the big hand on top of his head again.
*Jim is going to flip out when I tell him about this!*
Then the Indian began to speak, or rather, to chant, and Blair's thoughts fell silent. A strange tingling began inside his head, and his eyes flew open as he instinctively pulled away from the Indian.
"NO...DON'T BE AFRAID. CLOSE YOUR EYES."
Tentatively, with one last gaze of uncertainty at the big man, Blair relaxed and shut his eyes.
"HERE THE PATHS OF TWO BECOME ONE. THE GUIDE BECOMES THE GUIDED..."
The tingling resumed, and Blair began to feel dizzy. A slow pounding ache filled his skull beneath the massive fingers. *Oh God! Was this going to hurt?*
"SIGHT...SOUND...SMELL...TASTE...TOUCH...WILL BECOME AS WEAPONS USED IN YOUR MISSION TO PROTECT, TO ASSIST IN YOUR FIGHT FOR JUSTICE."
As each sense was named, Blair swore he could feel the tingling focus on a different part of his brain. This was too weird.
"THE TEACHER BECOMES THE PUPIL...THE LEADER NOW FOLLOWS..."
Blair's head began to swim, the world felt like it was spinning. The Indian continued to speak, but Blair couldn't follow his words any longer. He felt himself spinning away, falling, falling out of the jungle....
* * * * * * *
"Doctorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...commmmmmmmmmmmme quiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiicklyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy....IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII...thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink...heeeeeeeeeeeeeeee'ss...waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakinggggggggggg...uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!"
*Please shut up, whoever you are.* Blair's ears throbbed at the deafening shout, the first thing he was aware of as he clawed his way up out of the blackness. "Ohhhh," he groaned, and winced as his own voice bellowed and reverberated through his head, adding to the ache. He started to open his eyes, and was blinded by a harsh whiteness. He threw up his hands to block out some of the brightness, astounded that he could clearly see every line of his fingerprints before his eyes. Slowly, he began to take inventory of his surroundings. Through squinted eyes, he saw a white ceiling, white walls, white everywhere he looked. *Am I in Heaven?* he thought. No he decided, Heaven wouldn't smell like this! It was overwhelming, the smell of rubbing alcohol, ammonia, bleach...what was going on? Then he remembered the jungle, the Indian...and the gift! He grimaced. *So this is what it's like to be a Sentinel.... No wonder Jim was such a crab-ass when we first met!* The bigmouth with the grating voice seemed to have disappeared for the moment, to his relief.
It was getting easier to see, now, and he sat up. He was in a bed covered with white sheets, of which he thought he could feel every fiber, rough as sandpaper against his bare legs. A steady beeping to his left got his attention, and he turned to discover an army of machines hooked up to him. The hospital again. Great, back in the land of the living, finally. He looked around to ask his condition, but there was nobody in the room except him. Pounding footsteps drew his attention to the room's open door, just as Jim Ellison came rushing through, followed closely by a doctor. When Jim saw him sitting up, a look of great relief washed over his face. Blair was never so happy to see anyone in his life. The older man crossed the floor and threw his arms around him, carefully avoiding Blair's right arm, which was covered with bandages.
"Chief! Jeez, you scared the crap out of me!" Jim spoke against his shoulder. Blair's ears rang in protest again, as the doctor quickly examined the readouts on the machines. "Argh...not so loud, Jim." He stopped wincing and smiled as his big friend pulled back to look into his eyes. "How do you feel?" There was a mountain of concern in the short sentence, and Jim's gaze was intense as he studied his friend's face.
"I feel terrific, next stupid question." They both chuckled, Jim's look of desperate worry fading, and Blair took a deep breath through his mouth, to avoid the chemical odors. "Boy have I got a lot to tell you!"
* * * * * * *
Jim Ellison just stared blankly, with his mouth wide open. He and Blair were seated on the couch at the loft. Jim had parked his young friend there the moment they'd entered the room, after insisting upon carrying him up the stairs. Sheesh. He knew Jim still wished he had stayed in the hospital a little longer, but COME ON! Blair had protested, LOUDLY, every step of the way, relieved beyond measure that none of the neighbors were around to see. Talk about embarrassment! Blair could see the old familiar protectiveness roaring to life in his friend again. Some things never change, he thought. Jim would probably always feel he had a duty to watch over him, maybe because he seemed so much smaller and less powerful than the detective. But perhaps now things would be different, now that they were closer to being equals.
The doctors had called Blair's recovery "miraculous", and fortunately they hadn't seemed to notice that his sensory capability had increased by about twenty-fold. It would've been a difficult thing to explain to anyone not familiar with the concept of Sentinels. Blair suspected they would've sent him to a whole different type of hospital if he tried to explain what had happened to him!
The ride home had been a tough one, with Blair wincing and flinching at every car horn, and eliciting nervous glances from Detective Mother Hen Ellison. When an ambulance had passed the truck, sirens and lights blaring, Sandburg had cried out in pain, and buried his head in his arms to block out the bombardment. Jim had grabbed his shoulder in alarm, and Blair had to remind him that he was driving as the truck headed for the curb. Jim had quickly jerked the steering wheel back, and then tried to turn around to take Blair back to the hospital.
"I knew they should've kept you there another night!" Jim had muttered. It took a great deal of persuasion and reassuring on Blair's part to get Jim to finally relax and take him home.
"Look, I'm fine! I promise, I'll explain everything when we get home, man!" For the rest of the trip, Blair had blocked out the noises as best he could, so as not to worry his friend. He was trying to think of the best way to let Jim in on the news, a little worried about how his friend might react. Then he had shrugged to himself, *Ah, Jim's tough, he'll take it in stride*
Blair carefully waved his hand in front of the detective's face. "Hello in there... anybody home?" Jim shook himself, and then leaned closer, looking deeply into Blair's eyes. Blair stared right back at him, amused by his friend's reaction at learning that they were now in the same boat, sense-wise. At first, when Blair began the story, talking about floating and all, Jim had looked like he didn't believe a word. But by the time Blair got to the part about the Indian chanting the spell at him...Ellison was riveted.
"Are you sure the Indian said you'd have heightened senses?" Jim's face showed that he was skeptical, "I mean, is that exactly what he said?" Blair was a little peeved that Jim was having so much trouble accepting the new developments.
"What, you don't believe me?" Jim opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. "What?" Blair demanded. "Spill it, Jim."
The older man looked at him, and said reluctantly "I'm sorry, Chief. It's just that...well, you have been known to exaggerate at times, you know?" Blair started to object, but Jim plowed on. "C'mon Chief, you were DEAD, for Pete's sake! How do you know you didn't imagine the whole thing?"
Blair glared at the floor, too angry to speak. *Imagined it?!* What did Jim think was going on during the ride home? People with normal senses didn't feel pain at the sound of a simple car horn or siren! He felt Jim's hand on his arm.
"Blair...it's not that I don't want to believe you, I just..."
Blair shrugged his friend's hand off and snapped "Fine, you want proof? Test me!" Jim looked confused.
"I..I don't know what you..." Blair jumped to his feet.
"C'mon, I mean it! Give me something to do with my senses that only a Sentinel could do!" Sandburg was breathing hard, staring challengingly down at his partner.
Jim looked up at him, apparently thinking it over. After a moment, he nodded to himself and stood. "All right Chief, you're on!" He crossed the room toward the stairs. "No, you stay there." he ordered, when Blair began to follow. Jim went upstairs, and returned a few moments later with a handkerchief in one hand, and his wallet in the other. He came over, and stepped behind Blair. "This should do it, he said." Blair was startled as the cloth suddenly came over his eyes. He jumped. "No Chief, it's OK, hold still a sec..." Jim was tying the handkerchief in place over his eyes. "How's that, too tight?"
Blair reached up blindly and touched the makeshift blindfold. "No it's fine. What do you want me to do?" He heard Jim come around in front of him, and felt a breeze against his face. Felt like Jim was waving a hand before his eyes, checking if he could see. Then he heard the rustle of paper, and his Sentinel nose picked up the scent of leather and money.
"Here," Jim said, taking Blair's hand and pressing something into the palm. "American bills look and feel pretty smooth to regular eyes," Blair fingered the bill, turning it over in his hands, as Jim went on. "But on a microscopic level, the ink they are printed with is actually raised slightly." Blair heard his friend sit down on the couch. "I can tell what denomination a bill is, just by 'reading' the ink with my fingertips. If you really do have the same abilities, then you should be able to do it, too! So go for it Chief. Impress me!"
Blair ran his fingers lightly over the bill, focusing, letting his super-sensitive Sentinel fingers 'see' for him. *Seeing before others see...sensing what others can't.* he thought, remembering the description he had developed of a Sentinel. At first all he could feel was a jumble of ridges and lines, then, concentrating, he focused..."Federal Reserve Note," he read, out loud, "The United States of America...Grant...Fifty Dollars!" he heard Jim's sharp intake of breath, and grinned to himself in satisfaction, *so there!* Then he returned his attention to the bill again. "Number E54189812...C. Series 1995!" silence from the direction of couch. Blair smiled. "How's that, do I pass the test?" More silence...then Jim quickly stood and pulled the blindfold away from Blair's eyes. Sandburg suppressed a giggle at his friend's look of astonishment.
Jim stared down at him, intensely. Blair shifted, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He was starting to feel like a lab rat. Jim took hold of his face, and stared deeply into his eyes, not noticing as Blair slipped Jim's fifty into his own pocket. *Serves him right, for doubting me!*
The older man sighed in resignation. "So what happens now?" he asked. He was still gazing into Blair's eyes, as if he thought the words 'I'm a Sentinel now!' would be etched on his partner's eyeballs. "You don't look any different!"
Blair started to answer, when the telephone rang, jarringly. He yelped in pain as he burrowed his head into the couch cushions. Jim touched his back in concern, but Sandburg waved him away, pointing in the general direction of the telephone. He heard Jim cross the floor, and breathed a sigh of relief as the detective picked up the phone, putting an end to the auditory torture. "Ellison. Hey Simon...what?!" He turned sharply toward Blair on the couch, who gave him a questioning look. Jim turned his attention back to the phone. "When?"
Blair sat up and turned to face Jim. He decided to try some of the things he'd taught Jim himself. Taking a deep breath, he focused his hearing on the telephone, trying to block out everything but the faint sound of Simon's voice at the other end of the phone. At first nothing happened, but then suddenly..."...SOMETIME IN THE LAST 48 HOURS. THEY SUSPECT HE MAY TRY TO....!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"OW, Augh!" Blair quickly turned down his focus, and Simon's voice dropped to a more tolerable decibel level. He stuck a finger in his left ear and jiggled it around, trying to stop the ringing, and noticed Jim staring at him in concern again. He smiled up at the detective, and gave him a thumbs-up, while still inspecting his sore ears. Jim sighed and shook his head, then turned away as he continued his conversation with Simon.
"Do they have any idea where he might have gone?" Jim asked. Sounded like someone was missing, Blair thought. He got up and came to stand at Jim's elbow.
"Not a clue yet," Simon replied, "Although he did have a few favorite places to hide out. I'd like you and Sandburg to come and help check them out. You guys know how the bastard thinks."
Jim turned and glanced at his partner, who was bouncing with excitement. "Uh...I don't know Simon. I don't think Blair is quite up to it yet." Blair began to gesture wildly in protest, but Jim continued, ignoring him. "You know that was some accident, he probably won't be ready to go back out on the street with me for a ...OW!" Jim winced as Blair kicked him in the shin, not hard, just enough to let the big man know he was serious. "Hang on a sec, Simon." He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and turned, glaring to his young friend, who was fuming. "Blair, I don't want any argument about this! You have no idea what will happen with those new senses. Trust me Chief, I've been there." He cut Blair off as the young man opened his mouth to object. "No! I want you to get used to them in a safe place before you go out into a potentially dangerous situation. That is final!"
Blair gaped at him, then inhaled slowly. "Jim, let me put this into words you'll be sure to understand..." he began.
*WHAP!*
He smacked his hand across the top of Jim's head! Jim flinched, and stared at him in amazement. Blair was undeterred. "Now look Jim, when you first discovered your abilities, the first thing you did was NOT to hide away from the world and your responsibilities, right?" Jim had a hand cupped to his stinging scalp, and was looking at Blair as if he thought the young anthropologist had gone nuts.
"What are you saying, Chief?"
Blair took a deep breath. "I'm saying...don't shut me away! I'm you're partner, and your backup. I know you hate to admit it, but you need me!" he sighed, running a hand through his hair, briefly distracted by the fact that he could feel every strand under his new Sentinel fingers. Then he continued, more calmly. "Look, the best way for me to get used to my abilities is to use them in the field, not by piddling around this loft!"
"Simon, I'll call you back in about five minutes." Jim hung up the phone, and leaned on the counter for a moment, as if he lacked the strength to stand up. Blair was concerned. Surely he hadn't hit Jim hard enough to.... The detective turned then, and gazed down at him with an unreadable expression on his chiseled face. "Blair...it's Zeller." Sandburg stared, feeling the room grow colder at the mention of that name. His knees went weak, and Jim shot his arm out to grab him as he wavered. Blair quickly recovered, and looked evenly into his friend's eyes. "Tell me, Jim." Ellison sighed. "He's out, Chief. Klaus Zeller has escaped again."
Blair's thoughts were racing. On the one hand, he couldn't prevent the feeling of terror that overtook him when he thought of that madman on the lose again. He had put Jim and Blair through terrible ordeals; drugging, shooting, abduction,.... He shivered. Not many nights went by that Blair didn't wake up gasping for air, with the ghost of Zeller's face in his brain. Now it could all happen again. On the other hand....
Blair walked slowly over to the couch, flopped down, and rested his head in his hands. Could he do it? Could he face Klaus Zeller again? *I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE TO RECEIVE A GIFT. SOMETHING THAT WILL MAKE BOTH OF YOUR MISSIONS EASIER.* The big Indian's words came back to him. *...YOUR MISSION TO PROTECT...* Blair let his senses go, feeling the tiny changes in air pressure and temperature, detecting the scent of his own cologne, and the residue of shaving cream on the face of his friend, who had come to stand over him. Blair studied the intricate pattern of tiny cracks and pits in the wood floor in front of him, listened to the rhythmic thumping of Jim's heart, and the faster, harder pounding of his own. He ran his tongue over his teeth, still tasting the remains of the electrical charge that had brought about these incredible powers. Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. "WILL BECOME AS WEAPONS...." His head snapped up. Weapons! Zeller knew all about Jim's abilities, but Blair.... He had an advantage now!
Blair jumped to his feet and turned toward his partner. "I'm ready." he said. Jim looked at him with uncertainty,
"Chief, I...." he sighed, then asked softly, "Are you sure?"
Blair took a deep breath. "Let's go get that bastard."
Jim nodded, trying to hide his smile of pride but not quite succeeding. Without a word, he crossed to the phone and dialed. "Simon, we'll be there in about twenty minutes...." he looked at his partner. "Both of us."
* * * * * * *
"He got out yesterday afternoon," Simon began, as Jim and Blair came into the office. "We think..." Simon broke off suddenly, looking at Blair. "How are you feeling, by the way?" Blair glanced up at him in surprise. He and Jim had already decided not to let Simon know about Blair's new abilities just yet. The fewer people who knew, the better, Jim had pointed out.
Blair stammered, "Uh, fine captain." he fingered his arm, and the few remaining bandages. "A little, um, sore, but I think that's more from hitting the floor than the um, shock itself." He had rarely seen the captain show much concern for him; it caught him off guard.
"Glad to hear it." Simon gave him a quick wink, then resumed his no-nonsense attitude as he continued. "As I was saying, he killed one of the guards in the laundry room, then we think he stole his uniform, and slipped out right under the other guards noses." Frustrated, he slapped a handful of papers down on his desk. "Don't ask me why those idiots had a man like Klaus Zeller on laundry duty. Sometimes I swear that we three are the only people in the business who have a firm grasp on reality!" Simon sighed mightily, and sat on the edge of his desk.
"Do you think he'll come back to Cascade?" Blair asked, trying to keep his voice steady. It seemed he had won some favor with the gruff police Captain; he didn't want to lose it by sounding afraid. "I mean, Jim has put him away twice already." He glanced up at his partner. "Maybe he'll finally wise up and realize he can't beat you."
Jim looked down at him "You mean can't beat *us*, Chief." Blair flushed a little, and grinned at the floor, as Jim continued. "I would be willing to bet that he's already here, Simon. I mean, look how fast he was able to get to us the last time. We hadn't even gotten the news that he had escaped yet!" Jim must have seen his reaction, because he laid a steadying hand on his partner's shoulder before continuing.
"You said something about his popular hideouts, captain? Has there been any progress made there?" Simon shook his head, regretfully. "Nothing yet, there's been no sign of him." He stood up and crossed the office to the window. "The only thing we can do is start systematically eliminating the possible places he can hide." Gesturing for the two of them to follow, Simon walked up to the large map of Cascade pinned to the wall. He pointed to a handful of pins stuck in at various points. "We already have half a dozen of the places staked out, and those squads report all quiet, no sign of him." His hand drifted across the map to one pin that was isolated from all the others. "This is the only place that hasn't been looked at yet." He turned to the detective and his partner. "You guys up to it?" Jim looked down at his young friend, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Blair met his gaze, took a deep breath, and gave a curt nod. Jim turned back to the captain.
"We're on it Simon!" then he turned to Blair "By the way, you little sneak...I WANT MY FIFTY BACK!"
* * * * * * *
"Now look, Chief," Jim began. "don't try to be a hero, OK?" He glanced over at his young partner in the passenger seat, as he turned left down a dirt road. They were heading toward the last unchecked hideout of Klaus Zeller's; an old abandoned warehouse in the most rural area of their jurisdiction. "I mean, I know it's going to be damned tempting to use those new senses of yours, but trust me. You don't want to be too dependent on them! Remember the Zone Out factor."
Blair nodded, keeping his eyes on the road ahead of them, only half listening to Jim. His mind was in a turmoil. Back at the loft, when he had insisted that Jim let him help, he had been pumped up with adrenaline at the thought of using his new powers to defeat the man he detested like no other. And then later, as the two of them rose to meet Simon's challenge, he still felt the influence of his endorphins. Now the hormone high was wearing off, and he was frightened again. Zeller. *God! I must be out of my mind! How did I get myself into this?*
Jim slowed the truck down as the warehouse loomed before them, and pulled into the gravel drive. To be completely honest at that moment, Blair would've given anything to be safely back at the loft, away from Zeller and uninvolved. He sighed quietly. But he was needed here. Jim needed him, his partner and his backup.
Jim looked over at the sound of the sigh. "You OK, Chief?"
Blair glanced up to see a look of paternal concern on Ellison's face. "Yeah, Jim...I'm fine."
Jim gave him a look. "You don't act fine, Sandburg. Your heart's going a mile a minute, and you're as white as a sheet!"
Blair lowered his eyes in shame. "I'm scared, man." it was barely loud enough for even a Sentinel to hear. Jim turned off the truck, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Blair, you don't have to do this. We can leave right now if you want." Sandburg shook his head, feeling like the world's biggest coward, unable to meet the other man's eyes. "I mean it, Chief. I'll call Simon and tell him to send someone else."
Blair snorted at that. "Yeah that'll really earn me points with him." He was staring through the windshield at the dank, rusty-looking building where his worst enemy could be hiding right at that very moment. MegaRed Manufacturing. He'd never heard of the company before, no wonder the place had been abandoned.
Jim was shaking his head. "No Chief, I'll tell him that...you had a relapse. Yeah! You started to black out again, so I got scared and took you home." Jim was grinning at his own deviousness. "Who wouldn't believe that, after what you went through? Simon'll never know the truth!"
"That I'm a coward, you mean?" Blair asked sullenly. Jim had no answer to that. Sandburg turned away again, too ashamed to face him. He was about to tell Jim to call Simon, when a flurry of movement caught the attention of his Sentinel eyes. He leaned forward and focused on the back corner of the building, about 200 feet away, where a figure was moving about. Blair intensified his focus, and gasped as he recognized the familiar face of Klaus Zeller. "Jim! Jim it's him! It's Zeller!"
Ellison's head snapped around as he followed Blair's gaze. "Where Chief?" One hand was already pulling out the cell phone. Blair pointed.
"Back corner, see him?"
Jim focused, and growled "Yeah, I see him Chief."
Blair turned toward his partner at the strange tone of voice. Jim's eyes were steely, his face a mask of stone. *Looks like Jim's had a nightmare or two, himself!* he mused. He turned back toward the building, but Zeller had vanished around the corner.
Jim pressed the phone into Blair's hand. "Call for backup, Chief, I'm going in." Blair quickly dialed as Jim checked his gun, and carefully stepped out of the truck. Blair started to get out and follow, but Jim held up a hand. "No Chief, you stay here and wait for the backup to arrive. Lock yourself in!"
Blair sighed quietly to himself, secretly relieved, and climbed back in the truck to finish the call. Meanwhile Jim was slinking toward the far side of the building, with his gun drawn. *God Jim, be careful.* Blair thought, as Simon was telling him to 'sit tight, we're on our way!' He put away the phone and turned just in time to see Jim disappear around the corner of the building.
Five minutes passed...nothing. Blair was starting to get worried. Something should have happened by now. Had Jim killed Zeller? Had Zeller captured Jim? The waiting was becoming unbearable. At last after another minute of psyching himself up, Blair quietly slid out of the truck, and moved toward the building, following the same route that his friend had taken. About halfway across the gravel, he turned up his hearing and focused it on the warehouse. He had taken two steps more when he thought he heard something. Blair stopped short and strained his ears. He'd heard what sounded like someone dropping a heavy object on hard ground. As he listened, he could hear a series of muffled thumps, which he couldn't identify. He began to get a bad feeling in his stomach, and he toyed with the notion of running back to the truck and hiding, to do what Jim said and wait for the backup to arrive.
He'd just turned to head back to the truck when he heard it. A faint cry of pain. His heart rate skyrocketed, drowning out all other sounds.
*The cry had been Jim's!*
All thoughts of retreat abandoned, Blair sprinted toward the corner of the building. He had no idea what might have happened, and didn't really care right then. All he knew was that his partner needed him!
Blair had just rounded the corner of the building, and was making his way silently along the wall, when he saw a patch of ground that looked...well...different. He moved closer, his curiosity peaked, and focused his sight on the patch. He found he was studying a series of scuff marks on the ground, which clearly indicated that a struggle had taken place. He knelt, and focused his Sentinel sight on the marks. He could make out the familiar prints of Jim's police boots, and another set of prints he didn't recognize. *Zeller's?* He looked closer. One set of the strange prints was very deep, as if...
Blair quickly looked up and saw a small overhang attached to the warehouse's wall below a window, about 12 feet up. He began to develop an idea as to what had happened. Zeller had probably jumped down on Jim from above, which would explain the deep set of prints. Blair straightened, and looked around for any sign of Jim or Zeller. Surely Jim would have made short work of him by now. *So where is he?* he thought.
Something in the grass about 20 feet away from the building caught his eye. Smallish, black metal... Blair tightened his focus on the object, and felt his heart skip a beat. It was Jim's gun! He must have lost it in the struggle. Blair hurried over and picked it up. Still fully loaded, which wasn't surprising, since he hadn't heard any shots. That was a bit relieving, at least Jim hadn't been shot!
Keeping all senses on full alert, so Zeller wouldn't get the jump on him, too, Blair continued along the wall, holding Jim's gun at the ready. In the distance, he heard sirens, and knew the backup he had called for was very close. He just hoped they'd get there in time, he wasn't sure he could take Zeller all by himself.
As he neared the back corner of the building, he heard something. He strained his Sentinel hearing around the corner, and heard Zeller whispering.
"I've missed you, my friend. I have such wonderful things planned for you!" evil chuckling. "For both of you." the chuckling stopped dead, and Zeller's voice grated out, "Where IS the little bastard?" There was a pause, in which Blair could hear his own heart thundering in his chest. "Talk, Ellison, or I'll kill you right here!"
*Oh shit! Jim!* Blair cocked the gun and crept up to the corner of the building. He heard Jim's voice now, and sighed in relief. His friend sounded like he was OK, for now.
"Give it up Zeller." came Jim's voice. "If you want me, fine. But you're not getting Blair. He's already called for backup, they'll be here any second!"
Blair listened, breathless, trying to judge how far away Zeller was from the corner he was hiding behind. He guessed about 15, maybe 20 feet. Blair smiled, an easy shot for a Sentinel! Gritting his teeth, he stepped around the corner, facing the voices, Jim's gun raised.
Zeller whirled to face Blair as the young anthropologist appeared from around the corner, pointing Jim's gun at him. The fugitive was holding Jim in front of him as a shield. Blair looked nervously from Zeller to his friend. *This is what it must have been like for Jim in Alaska!* he thought.
Jim's face was bruised, and his lips were bloody. Apparently he had lost the battle when Zeller dropped on him before. Zeller smiled, and Blair felt his hands begin to shake a little at the sight of his old nemesis. He took a deep, steadying breath, feeling a little odd about the change of roles between himself and his partner. This time Jim was the one in danger. Zeller spoke.
"Well, here you are at last!" he grinned, the epitome of evil. "Your friend Jim and I were just discussing your whereabouts." Zeller had his left arm hooked through Jim's elbows, holding the detective's arms behind him. In his right hand, he held a small but powerful-looking handgun pressed into Jim's side, just below his ribcage. "Now then Mr. Sandburg. Put the gun down."
Blair didn't move, kept the gun aimed at Zeller's head. Jim's eyes were locked on his own, completely without fear. Softly, so only Sentinel ears could hear, Blair said to him "Don't move man, I can take him! I got a clean shot right between the son of a bitch's eyes!"
Jim's eyes widened a little. "No, Blair! It's not necessary! The backup will be here any second! Just aim at his gun, knock it out of his hand. I'll do the rest." Blair's super hearing picked up every word, clear as a bell. Klaus Zeller heard nothing.
"Well, what are you waiting for, shrimp? I said drop the gun!" Zeller actually seemed to be getting a little distraught that Blair was not succumbing to him like he usually did. His tone grew more intense. "I'll kill him, boy! Do you really want that on your conscience?" He pressed the gun harder into Jim's side, and Ellison stiffened a little. "I'll blow a hole in him the size of a melon, at this range." The evil grin again. Blair shuddered. "And you'll have a front row seat, little man."
Jim's voice met Blair's ears again. "Shoot his gun Sandburg!" he whispered. "C'mon Chief, do it!" Blair's knees were shaking. His stomach was in knots, and he felt sick and dizzy. *God, is this what Jim feels every time I'm in danger?! How does he live with it?!* He aimed the gun at the weapon in Zeller's hand, and was about to do as Jim said.
But suddenly he began to remember every encounter he had ever had with Klaus Zeller. It all played like a movie inside his head. The threats made on innocent people's lives... the torture... the sadistic trials he had put Jim and Blair through. Blair had had the chance to kill Zeller once before, and he'd passed it up. He wasn't sure he was strong enough to resist it a second time.
He heard the sound of police sirens, of cars pulling into the warehouse's gravel driveway. The police would take Zeller alive. Then they would send him to jail...again. Blair sneered at the thought. Escaping from a high security prison was apparently no challenge at all for Klaus Zeller. He'd proven, several times, that bars couldn't hold him. No. Leaving Zeller alive would just give him more chances to hurt innocent people *to hurt Jim and me!*. Blair shook his head slowly. *No.... No more.... I have to end this...NOW!*
With hands that were suddenly rock steady and a face with no expression, Blair aimed the gun at the spot between Klaus Zeller's psychotic eyes.
Jim was still speaking to him. "BLAIR...don't do it. Please! Just disarm him!"
Blair gazed at his friend apologetically. "I'm sorry Jim, I can't...." His stony gaze turned back to the coward hiding behind his friend, again using an innocent life as his own disposable property. "I CAN'T LET HIM GET AWAY AGAIN!" Blair bellowed. He savored the look of surprised disbelief on Zeller's face as he pulled the trigger....
*BANG!!!*
With Sentinel vision, things seemed to happen in slow motion. Blair saw the bullet leave the gun and cross the space between himself and Zeller, and then vanish into the evil man's skull. *It was over!* Blair began to grin in satisfied relief.... Then the unthinkable happened.
In the last milliseconds of his life, Zeller managed to pull the trigger.
*BANG!!!*
"*AAUUGH!!!*" Jim Ellison screamed in anguish as Zeller's bullet pierced his body at point-blank range. Blair stared in horror, his face turning white, at the spray of blood, and at the gaping hole that suddenly appeared in his friend's side. He felt as though he were frozen in space as he watched Jim slowly collapse to the ground.
Then in a rush of rage and fear, the world resumed normal speed.
"*NOOOOOOO!!!!*" Tossing the gun away, Blair dove to Jim's side, Klaus Zeller's lifeless body forgotten. Carefully, he turned Jim over, cradling the big man's upper body in his lap. In the background, he could hear shouts, and running footsteps as the backup officers came charging. But it all seemed far away, only half real. The only thing Blair was totally aware of was his best friend lying there, bleeding in his arms.
"Jim.... JIM!" Blair tried to cradle his friend's head, to do anything that could possibly make him more comfortable. He would've taken Jim's place in an instant, were it possible. Blair had one hand pressed into the horrible wound, which bled and bled. His other arm was around Jim's shoulders, supporting him as he began to speak.
"Blair?...I...." The words were faint, even for a Sentinel's ears. Blair leaned down so he could hear better. "Zeller...is he...?"
Helplessly, Blair smiled down at him. "He's gone Jim...it's OK.... I'm here...I've got you." Blair heard footsteps, and suddenly Simon was there, looking over his shoulder.
"Ohhhhhh God." The captain turned away and shouted "Get me an ambulance, and I mean *NOW*!! Thompson! Bring a blanket! Move, MOVE, *MOVE*!"
Out of nowhere, a blanket was laid over Jim's body. Blair carefully tugged it tight around his friend as Jim groaned in agony. Blair laid a hand on his forehead....so *cold*. "I'm sorry. Oh God Jim I'm sorry.... It's my fault!" Blair's voice broke, and Jim managed to reach a hand up toward the young man's face. Blair let Simon hold a hand over the wound as he took Jim's hand in his.
The detective tried to focus his eyes on Blair's, with limited success, and smiled sadly up at him. "No Chief...no.... ...Not your fault. Zeller shot...." He trailed off, in too much pain, too weak to finish. Blair could feel tears streaming down his face, but he didn't care anymore.
"You told me to shoot at Zeller's gun!' he wept. "If I had, he wouldn't have shot you! It's all my fault, Jim!" Blair was crying openly now. Jim gazed up at him with glassy eyes, face growing paler by the second.
"Shhh...no Blair. It's OK.... It's OK." His eyes fluttered closed, and his voice began to fade. "You did the right thing...partner...." A faint smile crossed Jim's lips. "I'll make a cop out of you...........yet...." Jim breathed once more, his body relaxed, and his hand went limp in Blair's grasp.
*Oh God, no...*
Simon quickly reached over and pressed his fingers to Jim's neck. Numbly, Blair watched Simon's face go slack as he slowly turned toward him. The captain's mouth moved oddly, as if he couldn't remember how to form words. "He...he's gone."
Simon's words echoed in Blair's head. He's gone. Jim's gone. Blair's eyes drifted shut as a flood of memories came pouring into his mind. Memories of Jim, alive. Meeting for the first time. An annoying, over-enthusiastic kid in need of a thesis subject, and a gruff, seasoned police officer in need of guidance. Who would have thought such a team could work so well?
Moving in with Jim...the changes...the 'House Rules'. Color coded leftovers, no shoes in the house, don't flush the toilet after ten o'clock...PLASTIC on the furniture?!...This was a peanut butter and sprouts sandwich, now it's an experiment in germ warfare!...We're home...let's enjoy it.
Working together...solving the problems...Let's remember our breathing, good...Still hurts!...Man, you've got the attention span of a gerbil!...One minute I'm hot, the next minute I'm freezing...sounds like menopause!...Pretty damn smart...who's that, them or us?...Both!...Right!
In and out of danger...watching out for each other...Your friend is getting warm Senor!...You touch him and you're a dead man...Sandburg, HELP!...sure, just ah,...don't touch me.... Oh Jim, I blew it didn't I?...It's Ok...Ohh Jim, it hurts!....Keep breathing...LET HIM GO!!!
Laughter...so much laughter...whoa Jim...I got something in my pants, man!...How exciting...You know, date at eight, news at eleven...You hang under a speeding train, while I spend the night handcuffed to Isabelle!...What'd it sound like?...kinda SQUEEEK, ah!...Rich Little you are not, my friend...my friend...my friend....
A hand on Blair's shoulder snapped him out of his reverie. He looked up to see Simon standing over him, tears in his eyes.
"C'mon Blair," he said softly, "It's over." Jim's body was growing cold in his arms. How long had he been lost in his memories? He looked around, and saw that he was surrounded by some of Jim's fellow officers, all gazing quietly down at their fallen comrade. A few of them met Blair's eyes as he slowly turned his head to look at them all.
He saw a mixture of emotions in the variety of faces, young and old. There was sorrow, a lot of it, but no tears, even among the youngest of the officers. All part of the job for them, Blair thought bitterly. He also saw pity, but the most prevailing thing he read in the eyes he met... was compassion. Blair knew his presence had never been totally accepted at the precinct, but now it seemed that sharing a common bond, losing Jim, had brought them all a little closer together.
Simon spoke to him again. "C'mon Sandburg, let him go." The captain knelt down beside the young man. "There's nothing more you can do." Blair saw the medical team then (when had they arrived?) standing by with a stretcher to take Jim to the hospital. No, not the hospital, Blair thought helplessly, beginning to shake...
The morgue.
Blair couldn't stop shaking. Jim, at the morgue. He watched, horrified, as the medics were unzipping one of the black body bags he had seen so often before. Only this time it was for his friend. It was for Jim. Jim was dead. Jim was dead...It was too much....
Shaking uncontrollably, Blair lost it. He threw his arms around his dead friend and wept, not caring who heard, who saw, what the tough, unemotional police officers thought of him. He held Jim, and cried. In the back of his mind, his Sentinel hearing picked up faint sounds, and he realized that some of the officers around him had begun to weep as well. Seemed as though Blair had opened the floodgates, so to speak. Simon's hand was stroking the back of his head, and he was vaguely aware of other hands patting his back, touching him kindly on the shoulders, as he buried his face against Jim's chest, sobbing.
"Ohh Jim, nooooooooo! PLEASE...noooo, don't leave me!!! Oh God Jim NOOOOOO!!!!" As he continued to wail, Blair felt the world shrinking away, everything was going black around him. Then suddenly he was falling, falling through the darkness....
* * * * * * *
"Noooo! Please noooo, don't leave me!" Blair felt himself rising. He was rising through the inky blackness now, toward a distant light far above him. *What's that light all about?*
"Chief?"
*What was that?* "Oh God Jim NOOOOOO!!!!" *Was the light getting brighter?*
"Blair?.... Blair.... "
*That voice again* It sounded familiar, but....
"DOC, HE'S COMING OUT OF IT!!!"
For the third time, Blair's semi-conscious mind registered the voice. *Jim?* he thought. *No...Jim's dead.* The thought filled him with despair.
"NAOMI! SIMON! COME QUICK!!!"
*Huh?* Yeah, those names were familiar. He'd just been with Simon, they'd been kneeling beside...Jim's corpse. More despair.
"Blair?... C'mon Chief, come back to us." Definitely Jim's voice, but how? And why was the light so bright now? A hand on his forehead. Big, warm hand... rough against his skin.
"Blair?...Honey, can you hear us?" Another voice. Female this time, very familiar.... Now his right hand was being held in another's. Cool, soft, long nails... female hand.
"Sweetie, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand, OK?" Squeeze? That was when you closed your fingers tight around something. He could do that.
"OH! He did it!... Doctor, he did it!...He can hear us!" Lots of sounds now. Beeping, footsteps, at least four different voices, all talking at once. Two hands on his face now. Warm hands, framing his face.
"Chief, open your eyes."
..............................*I can do that.*
* * * * * * *
Jim had actually been asleep when the breakthrough occurred.
Right after the accident, he'd been sure he was going to lose his best friend. And to something as mundane and stupid as a faulty television set! As he'd waited anxiously in the ER waiting area, his Sentinel ears had heard the doctor say something about a coma. Jim had been at the operating room door as it opened, and had grabbed the doctor as he came out. Reluctantly, he'd told Jim the terrible news; the shock had caused an overload of electrical impulses in Blair's brain. This had resulted in a kind of 'emergency shutdown' of almost all of his brain functions.
"In other words," the doctor had said, "Mr. Sandburg has slipped into a very deep form of unconsciousness. No outside stimuli can reach him."
Jim had felt his throat beginning to get tight as the doctor was speaking. He'd barely been able to ask the question, "When...when will he wake up?" His voice was shaking. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, and was less sure as he watched the look of remorseful pity fall over the doctor's features.
"We can't tell, there's no way to predict it." Jim lowered his gaze to the floor *this can't be happening.*
The doctor continued. "He could wake up in an hour, or he could stay in this state for weeks, months, or.... I'm afraid... " The doctor had fumbled for words then, and Jim had placed a hand on his shoulder, resisting the instinct to grab him and shake the sentences out. "I've never seen brain wave activity like that before." He met Jim's eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but....there's a very strong chance...that he'll never come out of it."
The last words had hit Jim like a ton of bricks. He felt the world crashing down around him. *Never?.....NEVER?* The room had suddenly started to spin, and the doctor had seized his arm and quickly guided him over to a chair, taking a seat across from him.
"Mister...mister.... " the doctor prompted.
Jim took a moment to remember his own name. "Uh, Ellison. Detective James Ellison."
The doctor had nodded and continued, laying his hand over Jim's. "Detective..." he began.
"Jim," Ellison had corrected. "Call me Jim." *Call me Wendy...Call me Jim........Call me STUNNED!* Jim's eyes filled up.
The doctor continued, not noticing. "Jim, do you know if Mr. Sandburg has any family? Is there anyone we should get in contact with?"
Six nerve-wracking days later, Jim had been lounging in the chair at Blair's bedside. His back muscles were singing opera; he'd hardly moved from the spot since they had moved Blair into the private room. The only times he left his weary vigil was to use the facilities and to occasionally take in food, so he wouldn't pass out.
Simon had graciously allowed him to take a leave of absence. The captain had apparently told the station the news, because there had been quite a few visits from Jim's fellow officers. Mostly they just came in, patted Jim on the shoulder, clucked sadly over Blair, and then left, telling Jim to 'call them anytime if he needed anything.' Jim had smiled, thinking *I need my partner back.* He wasn't angry with the apparent lack of concern of his fellow officers. Blair was his friend, not theirs. They didn't have to come to the hospital at all.
It had taken 2 days to track down Blair's mother. Naomi Sandburg had been taking part in a volunteer environmental survey in Arizona. Even over the telephone, Jim had heard her heart begin to pound as he told her the news. She had arrived at the hospital the very next morning, still wearing her hiking clothes. It was wonderful to see her again, Jim had thought. He just wished it could be for a happier reason.
Jim had met Naomi in the hallway outside the room, to help prepare her. Except for a bunch of wires taped to his chest, and a thin blue oxygen tube up his nose, Blair didn't look bad, really. In fact he had looked very peaceful lying in the hospital bed, with his hair spread out on the pillow. But Jim knew it would still be a shock to the woman who had given him life.
He had held Naomi's elbow, to steady her as they slowly came to stand at the side of the bed. Jim had heard her heart thundering in her chest. *If this is tearing me up so horribly, then what must SHE be going through?* he remembered thinking, studying her face.
Naomi had looked quite calm, almost detached, as she gazed sadly down at her baby. Tears were welling up in her eyes, to flow down her beautiful face. Then, suddenly she had crumbled, turning to bury her face in Jim's shirt, sobbing. This had set Jim off as well, and for long minutes they clung to each other, with her tears soaking his shirt, and his falling onto her hair. Together they had mourned the most important person in both of their lives.
On the sixth day since the accident, Simon had come into the room, a look of regret on his face. He nodded to Jim, and then crossed over to Blair's bedside. Jim watched the big captain in surprise as Simon reached down to lay a hand on Blair's head. He stood still for a long moment, then turned to Jim.
"Jim, I'm so sorry. I'm so terribly sorry about all this." Simon had broken off for a second, then took a deep breath and continued. "I know, the kid has annoyed the hell out of me from time to time, and I've been very hard on him on occasion," Simon had paused, and sighed. "But he's a good kid Jim...and a good friend. I just wanted to finally say it out loud to someone." Ellison had only nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
Then Simon's tone changed. "Oh God, I wish I didn't have to tell you this now, Jim." The captain held a hand to his head, grimacing as he walked over to look out the window.
"What is it Simon?" Jim had asked, the dread in Simon's voice chilled him.
"We just got word that...Zeller is out again." Simon turned to him as he spoke, meeting Jim's eyes with a look of despair.
Jim stared at him "*What?!*" Oh God not again. Not *NOW*! Jim leaned forward and rested his face on his hands, rubbing his temples, with a groan. Simon came over and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Simon, I can't help you," Jim said, straightening, looking up regretfully at his Captain's face. He pressed on as Simon opened his mouth to speak, "I know, I know, I should be the one to go after him, I know how he thinks... but..." Jim let the sentence hang, unfinished, as he slowly turned to take Blair's hand.
Simon spoke softly "I wasn't going to ask you Jim.... I think you've got more important things to think about now. Besides, from the size of those bags under your eyes, I'd say it's been awhile since you've slept, am I right?"
Jim grinned slightly, and nodded. "I try to catch a half hour every now and then."
Simon smiled. "Well, I've got Thompson and Davis guarding this floor, just in case Zeller is stupid enough to try and come after you two again." He patted Jim's shoulder once more, as he crossed to the door. "I'm going to go talk to Blair's mom for awhile." Naomi had gone down to the cafeteria for some food. He paused for a moment, in thought "I'm not sure she likes me too much, after the last time, you know?"
Jim nodded. Naomi hadn't been too keen on Blair working with the police when she found out how dangerous it was.
"Do me a favor, Jim? Get some sleep...you look like hell." Jim chuckled as Simon left. Then he turned to his unconscious friend again, studying Blair's face and thinking.
*Klaus Zeller...again.* "Ohhh Chief." He leaned forward, resting his head on the edge of the bed, next to Blair's shoulder. "We just can't seem to get a break, can we?" His words were punctuated by an enormous yawn that felt as though it would split his face in two. He lay there, feeling the softness of the mattress under his face, listening to the slow, quiet rhythm of Blair's breathing, *Mmmm, sleep...that would be nice right about now...just a few min.....* Jim never finished the thought, he was already oblivious.
* * * * * * *
Jim's head shot up abruptly, causing a nasty little spasm of pain to shoot through his tired neck muscles. He reached back and rubbed the spot, wincing. What had woken him? He tried to remember. He'd been dreaming about Zeller. He had captured Jim and Blair again, and was about to put them through yet another round of Hell. But the dream hadn't been that bad, not bad enough to jolt him awake like that. It was something else. His mind focused, trying to isolate his senses from the last few moments.
Suddenly he remembered! It was a sound, a subtle change of a sound in the room that had been caught by his ultra-sensitive ears. *It was Blair's breathing!* Jim leaned close to his friend's face and listened, motionless, his heart hammering with excitement. Yes! There it was again! A tiny change in the rhythm, barely noticeable. Jim glanced toward the door, wondering if he should get the others, concerned about raising false hope. Then he turned back to his partner...and bolted to his feet.
There were tears running down Blair's face! Surely someone in a coma shouldn't be crying!
Jim was turning to run and get Naomi and Simon, whom he could still hear talking down the hall, when he heard something else, very, very faintly.
"Nooooo....please....noooo, don't leave me!"
Jim immediately came back to Blair's bedside *Ok, I'm not going anywhere!* He leaned close, with his mouth inches from his friend's ear..."Chief?"
A long pause, then,,,, "Oh God Jim Noooooooo......."
Jim could now hear Blair's heartbeat and breathing growing stronger. "Blair?.... Blair...." Jim stared in wonder, as Blair turned his head, very slightly, in Jim's direction. That did it!
"DOC, HE'S COMING OUT OF IT!!!" Jim rushed to the door and shouted down the hall. "NAOMI! SIMON! COME QUICK!!!"
* * * * * * *
Slowly, painfully, Blair opened his eyes. Everything was a blur, what had happened to his Sentinel sight? He blinked rapidly a few times, trying to focus. Why was he so stiff? A face in front of him slowly began to take shape...becoming clearer. No! It was impossible! "*JIM?*" he rasped, surprised at how dry his throat was.
Everyone in the room gave a gasp of relief, and Jim's big face broke into a huge grin. "Hi Chief! Welcome back." There were tears in the detectives blue eyes, as he gazed down at his partner.
Blair was staring up at him in disbelief "You...you're not dead." It was a statement, not a question.
Jim quickly glanced at the people behind him, then turned with a little laugh back to Blair. "Funny, that's just what I was going to say to you. How do you feel?"
Blair looked up and around. He was in a hospital...AGAIN. His eyes met Jim's again. "What happened?" then he squinted, looking harder at the detective's face "Jeez Jim, you look like hell!"
Laughter, from three different voices. Jim wiped his eyes and stepped back, letting Naomi get up closer to Blair. His face brightened. "Mom! What are you doing here?"
She smiled down at him, and brushed his long hair back from his forehead. "It's OK, sweetie...everything's fine."
*Fine? Hardly.*
Blair looked toward the foot of the bed, where another familiar figure was standing. "Simon!" Blair tried to sit up, and was promptly pressed back down by three sets of hands. It would've been four, but the captain was too far away to reach him. Blair made a face as he was laid back against the pillows, but he kept speaking to Simon. "Simon, you were there with me! You saw it happen, too!" He saw his mom and Jim glance nervously at the doctor, who was now checking the readings from the multitude of machines Blair was attached to.
"What, Blair? The Captain came closer. What are you talking about?"
"Zeller, captain!" had Simon gone nuts? "He escaped again!" Simon's eyes went wide, and he and Jim looked sharply at each other. Jim leaned down to Blair again, meeting his eyes. "Chief...how did you know that? You've been in a coma for six days!"
Blair stared...*coma?!* Slowly, the realization sunk in. It hadn't happened. His meeting with the Indian, his new abilities, Jim's death, none of it was real! He looked up at Jim again, questioningly.
Jim spoke to him, gently. "Blair, you remember the television?" a nod. He continued "The doctor said it caused your higher brain functions to shut down. You only just regained consciousness a few minutes ago!"
Blair turned his gaze toward the doctor, who nodded in confirmation. With a great sigh, Blair laid back against the pillows. *Why, oh why, oh WHY do these things keep happening to me?* He suddenly caught a glimpse of the blue oxygen tube, and went cross-eyed trying to get a better look at it. "OK, guys...what the hell is up my nose?!"
* * * * * * *
Aside from being very stiff from not moving for nearly a week, Blair seemed to be recovering very well. The doctor had released him from the hospital just two days after he woke up, stating that the young man had 'some of the most remarkably efficient powers of recovery he'd ever seen', or something like that. Jim hadn't been thrilled with the idea of Blair leaving the hospital so soon, but the doctor had assured him that the best thing for his partner was to get back into life. The sooner he did, the sooner things would return to normal.
*This guy doesn't know Blair!* Jim had thought. *Normal is in the eye of the beholder.* But his objections aside, he had to admit it was good to have him home again.
Naomi had decided to stay and visit for a few days, and the three of them were at the station, on their way up in the elevator to meet Simon for lunch. The elevator stopped, and Jim was the first one out, followed by Naomi, then Blair. As Blair stepped out, he noticed that Jim had turned back to him, with a big smile on his face.
Blair was about to ask what the joke was, when he looked around, just as the entire department burst into applause. He looked around at familiar, and some not so familiar faces. It seemed like the whole floor was there! Blair smiled in embarrassment as he walked with Jim toward Simon's office. Some color near the ceiling caught his eye, and he looked up to see a banner hanging there.
He laughed as he read it aloud "Welcome Back Hair-Boy!" He continued to laugh as he turned back to the group, some of them coming up to pat him on the back, congratulating him. Blair grinned at them "Hey if I knew I could get all this respect just by being unconscious for a few days, I'd have let Simon punch me out sooner!"
This produced a huge laugh from everyone, including Simon, who had come to stand beside him. The captain drew back his fist, and Blair mocked recoiling in fear, producing more laughter. Then Simon, Jim, Blair and Naomi went into the captain's office.
Jim was chuckling to himself. It was nice that his fellow officers had felt enough toward Blair to put on the little welcoming ceremony. And with everyone on edge, too, he thought. Klaus Zeller still hadn't been recaptured. But it seemed that the psycho had had enough of Jim and Blair; there had been no sign of him. No sign at all, Jim mused. They should have had at least some clue as to where he was hiding by now.
Simon was putting on his coat to go. They were planning to eat lunch at one of Blair's favorite restaurants. It was one that even Jim didn't mind, since he could actually identify some of the ingredients in the dishes they served. Blair was wandering around the office with his mom, pointing out pictures of Daryl, and identifying newspaper clippings and photos tacked to the wall, next to the huge map of Cascade, which had half a dozen blue pins stuck in to mark the places they'd looked for Zeller.
"OK, let's go." Simon said. He and Jim headed out the door, followed by Naomi. The group was almost to the elevator, when Jim noticed that Blair wasn't with them. Curious, he walked back to Simon's office, to find his partner standing like a statue, staring at the blue pins on the map.
"Blair, come on." No response. Concerned, Jim motioned to Simon and Naomi and walked over to stand beside his young friend. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.
Naomi and Simon came into the office, looking questioningly at Jim, then turning to stare at Blair. The anthropologist's face was rigid, his body frozen, as he stared, mesmerized at something the others weren't seeing. Jim turned to Simon, opening his mouth to tell Simon to call the doctor at the hospital. He was afraid Blair might be having some kind of relapse. But he was interrupted by Blair's voice.
"Jim...Simon...I know where he is." Blair's voice was hollow, his eyes wide as saucers.
Jim took hold of his shoulders and gently turned him to face himself. "Who, Chief?...Where who is?"
Blair was still staring at the map, and now he reached up, zombie-like, and pulled out one of the pins. "Zeller...." he said softly. "I know where Zeller is hiding."
Simon crossed the room in two long strides. He was about to question Blair, and loudly, when Jim held up a hand to stop him. They both watched in wonder as Blair's hand floated over the map, and stuck the pin in at a point far away from all the others. "Here...he's *here*!"
Simon looked closer, and huffed. "Sandburg come on, look where that is! It's out in the middle of nowhere! There aren't even any buildings in that area. What, is he hiding out in the woods?" Simon was irritated, and showing it.
Jim concurred "He's right, Blair. There's nothing anywhere near that point."
Blair turned toward them. "Yes there is .... It's an abandoned warehouse, MegaRed Manufacturing." at his friends' looks of disbelief, he added "Yeah I know, I'd never heard of it either, until..." his eyes went blank. Jim stepped forward, concerned.
Blair looked up, right into his eyes. "Jim...trust me...he's *THERE*."
* * * * * * *
Two days later, Jim and Blair were on their way home from the airport, having seen Naomi's plane take off safely, heading back to Arizona. Jim was feeling better than he had in a long time, recalling the ease with which they had stormed into the warehouse and recaptured Zeller. He smiled when he remembered the look of surprise and shock on the bastard's face as he and the other officers had burst in. Apparently Zeller thought he had the ultimate hiding place; in the warehouse of a company so obscure, no one even remembered it existed. Well, almost nobody.
He turned to look at his partner. Blair was staring quietly out the window, lost in thought. Jim spoke to him, pulling him back into his world "I still don't get it Blair. How did you know about that place?" He pulled up in front of their building, and parked the truck. "I mean, nobody knew that it was there, let alone that it was one of Zeller's hideouts." Zeller himself had admitted he hadn't used the place in a decade; it was too far from his targets. They got out of the truck and headed into the building. Blair was pensive as he spoke.
"I don't know, Jim. I really don't. In Simon's office, looking at the map, all I could think was ' That's *wrong*. There should be another pin!' " They entered the loft, and Blair sat on the couch.
Jim placed his keys in the bowl, and then sat on the coffee table across from him. "Well, Chief, it was an incredible thing you did. The sort of thing they make Television shows about!"
Blair glared at him. "Don't even mention a television to me, man. I may never go near one again!"
They laughed together, Jim thinking how great it was to have his old friend back, when something made him turn his head toward his bedroom. He stared. There, on the landing at the top of the stairs, stood a black panther. He hadn't seen it again since they had returned from Peru. He turned back to Blair, to tell him, but saw it wasn't necessary.
Jim saw the young man's eyes widen as he turned to stare at the animal. Then he looked at Jim. Ellison looked into his eyes "Chief, do you see...."
Blair smiled a little, a look of awe on his face.
"Yeah Jim.... I DO...."
THE END