Blair was losing consciousness. His arms no longer had the strength to wrap around Jim's neck. He slumped bonelessly in the Sentinel's arms now, face pressed into Jim's left pectoral, arms dangling limply. His numb mind was only mildly concerned by the sudden lack of pain. Everything was growing dim, sounds becoming fainter, colors less vibrant. He was dying.

Protect.... Higher Ground.... Safety....

Jim's mind still continued to rant the unending, instinctual commands to protect his Guide. If the real 'Jim' were in control, he would be horrified by his behavior. He had assaulted fellow officers, fired upon his Captain, among others, and had for all intents and purposes kidnapped his own partner. Now Blair lay unconscious in his arms, and soon Jim would find himself an accessory to manslaughter.

Protect.... Higher ground....

Jim kicked the heavy door to the roof open and strode through. He crossed the cement surface, turning in a slow circle to survey his surroundings. A slight grin of satisfaction spread across his dull face.

Higher ground.... Safety.... Safety....

Simon and Ryf reached the landing below the final flight of stairs leading to the roof. Simon turned and held a finger to his lips, indicating for Ryf to be quiet. The Captain slowly crept up the stairs, pressed tight to the wall, approaching the open door. He looked out across the roof, then turned to motion to Ryf.

Brown and his two flanking officers came running up the stairs, and stopped short as Ryf waved at them to be quiet. One by one, they moved up the stairs, following Simon out onto the roof.

Jim froze as he detected another presence. He whirled, and snarled at the sight of the group of people emerging from the door. His heart began to race, anticipating a fight.

Protect the Guide.... Destroy the enemy....

Simon gathered his men together, keeping an eye on Jim. A sound behind him made him turn, and he breathed a sigh of relief as the team of four medics came through the door. As quickly and simply as he could, Simon explained his theory, and his plan of action, then instructed his group to move out.

Brown placed his men strategically between Ellison and the door. While they had Jim cornered on the roof, they had a chance of getting Blair away from him in time to save the young man. But if they lost Jim down in the maze of the building again, Blair would most certainly die.

Ryf watched as Brown moved to circle behind Jim, letting Banks and the uniformed officers hold Jim's attention. Ryf moved in the opposite direction, he and Brown stealthily cutting Jim off from any route of escape.

"OK," Banks said quietly into his radio, "Brown, try and get Jim to put the kid down."

Brown nodded as the Captain's order came through the headset, and moved slowly toward Ellison. His eyes were almost magnetically drawn to the ghostly pale face of Sandburg as he lay limply in the big detective’s arms.

"OK, Hair-Boy, " Brown breathed, "You just hang in there, now." Brown tensed as Jim suddenly turned to glare at him.

Enemy.... Enemy.... Destroy....

Blair's arms swung loosely as Jim took two threatening steps toward Brown. The young man's head was arched back, neck bent at a painful-looking angle over Jim's arm. His legs dangled limply over the other arm.

Jim let out a low, warning snarl as Brown took another step toward him and his Guide. All of Jim's protective instincts kicked into overdrive, and he moved to do battle.

Brown drew his gun and pointed it at Jim, trying to keep his hands from shaking. "Oh God, please don't make me have to shoot him," he prayed quietly.

Ellison paused at the sight of the gun, apparently weighing out his options. The glassy eyes lowered to study the limp cargo draped in his arms. Then, everyone on the roof held their collective breath as Jim slowly knelt and laid Blair's limp form out on the concrete surface of the roof.

"Yes!" Simon hissed, clenching his fist in victory. He turned and motioned to the medics standing at his shoulder. "Now, let's move!" he ordered.

Jim stalked toward Brown, head down, glaring at the smaller man from beneath his eyebrows. Brown shuddered as the detective actually bared his teeth at him. His finger tightened ever so slightly on the trigger.

Making sure Jim's attention was focused on Brown, Simon and the medics hovered over Blair's inert form. The team quickly worked over the young man as Jim continued to move away.

Brown felt a presence at his elbow, and turned his head very slightly. He breathed a sigh of relief as Ryf came to stand beside him, his own gun raised. Jim was coming closer, clenching and unclenching his fists, as if imagining someone's neck in his grasp.

Destroy the enemy....

"You OK?" Ryf asked his partner.

"Not really," Brown replied. "What if it doesn't work, man? What if we have to shoot him?"

"We won't," Ryf said, as he saw the head medic lift his head.

Kill....

Jim reared up, raising his fists, preparing to charge at the intruders

Protect the Guide....

At that moment, the head medic straightened, and looked toward the menacing figure of Jim Ellison. Looking down at Blair, she took a deep breath, and let her voice resonated across the roof.

"He's dead."

Jim froze in mid-stride. Ryf and Brown became statues, watching breathlessly as the big man slowly lowered his arms to his side, a look of bewilderment coming over the rugged face.

Dead...? The Guide is... dead...?

Brown lowered his gun as Ellison turned away from him, and headed toward the tiny knot of people crowded around Blair's lifeless form.

Dead....

Jim moved slowly across the roof toward his Guide. He stopped a few feet from the group of people, teetering slightly as his adrenaline high began to wear off. His eyes moved to each of the sorrowful faces looking up at him before settling on Blair.

The young man's face was serene, blank. His long, dark lashes were motionless on the pale cheeks. Blair's full lips, rarely seen without a smile on them, were now pale and limp. The rounded brow was faintly furrowed, a reminder of the pain in which Blair had died. He looked so peaceful, as if he were only sleeping. But he wasn't sleeping. He was dead. Blair was dead. Jim took an unsteady step back, slowly shaking his head in denial.

Dead....

Jim's blank face slowly shifted into a mask of misery. He turned away from the sight of his dead Guide, and moved purposefully toward the edge of the roof.

The Sentinel has failed....

Jim was unaware of the voices calling out to him as he stepped up onto the narrow ledge at the edge of the roof. He looked down at the street, far below. It would be quick and painless, not that it mattered anymore....

I failed.... I must....

Brown and Ryf ran toward Jim, calling out to him not to jump, not to do it. As they reached Jim's side, Ryf took hold of his sleeve to try and pull him back form the edge.

die....

Jim stepped off the roof.

"Ungh!" Ryf bellowed as his shoulder was dislocated, Jim's weight pulling him halfway over the edge. But he didn't let go of Jim's sleeve. Brown grabbed hold of Jim's upper arm with one hand, and Ryf's belt with the other, using his own weight to keep his slighter partner from being pulled to his death. Brown's headset tumbled off to smash on the street, far, far below.

Jim hung like deadweight, not making a move to try and save himself. He could still hear people shouting to him, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Blair was gone. His beautiful, lively, wonderful friend and partner, the person who meant more to him than anything, his reason for living, was gone forever. And it was his fault. Jim looked up with disinterest as a hand closed over his. Brown had wrapped his fingers around Jim's wrist.

"Jim!" Brown cried, still clinging to Ryf with one hand. His partner was moaning as his damaged shoulder was strained. Brown squeezed his fingers tightly around Ellison's wrist. "Jim! I can't hold you! Reach up your other hand, buddy!"

Jim just stared up at the dark face, hearing, but not caring to obey. He didn't want to be saved. He wanted to die. Jim began to twist his hand, trying to wrench free of Brown and Ryf's hold on him.

"Ohhhhh Jesus!" Ryf wailed, feeling the tendons in his shoulder grinding painfully. "Brown, I can't hold on much longer!" Ryf tried to keep his grip of iron on Jim's sleeve, but he could feel the fabric slipping away as his hand went numb. His shoulder was on fire.

"Hang on, man, hang on!" Brown urged his partner. There was no way he could hold Jim by himself. The big detective still showed no interest in being pulled to safety. Brown called back over his shoulder.

"Captain! We're losing him!"

Ryf closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth as his shoulder separated another millimeter or two. Looked like he was going to be married wearing a sling.

"Let me go!"

Brown and Ryf both stared down as Jim spoke. It was the first understandable thing to leave Ellison’s lips since the whole thing had begun.

"I said... let me go... dammit!" Jim cried, voice cracking with emotion as he tried to get free of Brown and Ryf's grip on his arm.

"No, Jim! Come on, hang on," Ryf ground out through his pain, "Let us help you!" He winced as he felt his hold on Jim's shirt loosening. His entire lower arm was numb, now.

"No... just let me fall," Jim wailed. "He's dead! I killed him! I killed Blair! LET ME DIE!!!!"

Brown shook his head. "No you didn't, Jim!"

"Yes! Yes, he's dead... because of... me!" Ellison stopped struggling and just hung limply, trembling as the sorrow racked his body. "I deserve to die," he whimpered softly.

"Jim, he's alive!" Simon's voice rang out.

Jim shook his head, "No, you're trying to trick me! It's not going to work Captain!" Jim closed his eyes, trying to erase the image of his friend lying dead on the roof. Oh Blair... I'm sorry....

"No, Jim!" Ryf called down. "We just told you... he was dead... so that...," Ryf's voice trailed off; he was in too much pain to continue.

Brown jumped in. "We told you he was dead to try and snap you out of it! Simon...,"

"Liars!" Jim screamed, trying again to wrench free, willing gravity to take him. "I don't believe you! I...,"

"J... Jim?"

Ellison's head snapped up. That voice...,

"Jim.... It's all right....," Blair's voice drifted down like music. "Please, Jim.... Don't leave me alone, man...."

Jim looked up into the eyes of his Captain. Simon was standing at the edge of the roof, with a weak, pale, but very much alive Blair cradled in his arms.

"Blair...," Jim breathed.

Blair smiled feebly down at his partner. "Come back to me, big guy," he said softly.

Brown smiled down at Ellison. "Come on, Jimbo," he let go of Ryf's belt and reached down his free hand. "Let us help you, buddy."

Jim slowly stretched his free hand up and grasped Brown's wrist. Ryf reached down with his other hand and grabbed Jim's forearm. Slowly they hauled the detective up the side of the building, Jim using his feet to scramble up. With one final tug, Jim cleared the railing and he, Brown and Ryf collapsed into a pile on the roof.

"Welcome back, man," Ryf murmured from the bottom of the heap, patting Jim on the back as the detective rolled off of him. He closed his eyes and moaned as his numb arm began to re-awaken, pain receptors flaring to life all over again. He didn't argue as Brown helped him to his feet, helping to hold the damaged limb against the smaller man's chest.

Jim lay on the roof on his back staring up Simon and Blair. Slowly, he got to his feet and stepped forward. Suddenly realizing all the trouble he'd caused, the Sentinel looked at he ground, ashamed, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Captain," he began softly.

"Save it, detective," Simon said kindly, smiling a little. "We'll deal with it later. Right now you have more important things to worry about." Simon stepped forward, angling his head down to indicate Blair.

Jim reached out, and gave a sigh of relief as Simon gently laid Blair in his arms. The young man was pale and trembling, blue eyes wide, tight, white bandages around his belly. But he was alive, and safe. Jim felt his throat tightening, and closed his eyes as Blair reached up to hug his neck.

Blair clung tightly to Jim, disregarding the pain the motion caused, and whispered into his ear, "I love you, Jim."

Jim buried his face in Blair's hair and began to sob. He dropped to his knees, hugging Blair to his chest, rocking slowly back and forth. He was vaguely aware of Simon guiding the others away, and was grateful for the privacy.

Blair clung to his Blessed Protector, slender hands clutching at the huge shoulders. As Jim gently tilted him back, Blair tried to speak, but couldn't as Jim began covering his face with desperate kisses.

Jim whimpered in his throat as he placed kiss after kiss on his beloved's sweet face, as if devouring him. His tears continued to flow, and his lips detected wetness seeping from Blair's eyes as well.

"I love you...," Jim said softly, between kisses, "I love you... so much... baby...."

"You too... big guy...." Blair managed to gasp, trying to return the kisses.

Jim sobbed again, rubbing his cheek against Blair's sweaty brow. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, I almost killed...," Jim began.

Blair moved one hand to gently cover Jim's lips. "Shhhh," he breathed, "Don't talk about it, it's over. It doesn't matter now," Blair glanced around as Simon and the medics approached, this time with a stretcher. The young man wrapped his arms around Jim again and pressed his face into the broad chest. "All that matters now is that I love you, Jim Ellison."

Jim closed his eyes as he felt the medics take hold of Blair. He clung to the slight body for a moment, then allowed the medics to take Blair from his arms and ease him onto the stretcher. Jim quickly stood, and tried to take hold of one corner, but was stopped by Simon's hand on his shoulder.

"Hold on there, detective," Simon said gently. He watched Jim's eyes follow the stretcher as the medics carried Blair away. Tears continued to flow from the Sentinel's eyes.

"My God, Simon," Jim whispered. "Do you realize what could have happened...,"

"I do, Jim. I do," Simon replied, putting an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. He began to guide Jim back toward the head medic. "But it didn't."

"Only because you stopped me," Jim said, burying his face in his hands. "Oh God, Simon.... He could've died...," Jim broke off into sobs again. His body relaxed as he felt his Captain wrapping his arms around him.

"Easy now, buddy.... Just relax, now.... JIM!" Simon yelped in alarm as Ellison promptly collapsed. "I need a medic over here!" the Captain called desperately, lowering Jim's limp body to the ground. "I need help here, NOW!"

Blair wasn't in his own bed. That was the first thing he was aware of as he slowly awoke. The next thing he was aware of was a nasty ache in his abdomen. He shifted a little, trying to pinpoint the reason for the pain, and felt a rough hand on his brow. The warm fingers gently stroked him, brushing the hair back from his face as he opened his eyes. The flesh colored blur before him solidified into the face of his Blessed Protector.

"Jim," Blair breathed, a faint smile crossing his lips. He reached up, and his fingers were instantly engulfed by Jim's large hand. Blair looked around, and saw he was in a hospital. Everything came back to him in a rush.

"Hi there, Chief," Jim said softly, running his thumb over the back of Blair's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Blair answered. "Am I all right?"

Jim nodded. "You're fine, kid. Just fine. The doctors said the wound was easy to close. All they needed to do was to give you a transfusion and stitch you up a little. They said you can come home tomorrow." Jim smiled.

"Glad to hear it," Blair murmured sleepily. He smiled as Jim's fingers moved to his brow again. "Are you OK, man? You don't look so good," Blair said, noting the worn, haggard look on his friend's face. He was surprised as Jim actually chuckled a little.

"Am I OK," Jim muttered in disbelief. "You're amazing, Blair. Absolutely amazing." When Blair just looked at him, Jim replied. "Yes, I'm fine, Chief. Doctor said there isn't any permanent damage."

Blair nodded, then asked quietly, "They know what happened, then?"

Jim nodded. "They did some tests, and found some residual traces of that stimulant on my jacket," he explained. "They said it looked like the stuff caused some kind of mental overload when it got into my system. Everything I was feeling became intensified, magnified, you know?"

Blair nodded, smiling. "I figured it had to be something like that," he replied. "The Blessed Protector mode taken to the extreme," he moaned a little, trying to sit up. "I'm sure your heightened senses didn't help any, either."

"You're not kidding." Jim reached for the controls to the hospital bed, and raised Blair's upper body to a more comfortable position. He reached out and laid his hand on the smooth forehead again as he said, "We owe Simon, big time."

"Mmm," Blair nodded. "Guess he saved both our lives, didn't he?"

"He sure did, Chief," Jim agreed. "I hate to think of what would've happened if he hadn't been there." Jim said softly. Simon had understood what Jim was going through while affected by the drugs, that he was driven to protect Blair at all costs. The Captain has realized that if Blair died, or appeared to die, then Jim's uncontrollable need to protect him would end.

Afterwards, Simon had confessed that he never expected Jim to react quite the way he did, suicidal. The Captain had chastised himself for not thinking things out more clearly. Jim had stopped him, pointing out that it hadn't been for him, he and Blair would most likely both be dead now.

Blair's voice pulled Jim out of his memories.

"How much do you remember?" Blair asked softly, lust for knowledge kicking in again.

"All of it, Chief." Jim closed his eyes with a shudder. "Plain as day." Jim looked into Blair's eyes. "I'm so sorry, Chief. For everything." He squeezed Blair's fingers, remorse etched on his chiseled face.

Blair waved a dismissive hand. "Jim, come on. We both know you weren't exactly in control of your actions." He sighed. "I'm sure nobody blames you, no more than they blamed me for the Golden, right?" Blair grinned as Jim nodded in agreement.

"Ok, I see your point," Jim replied. "So I guess we're even now, eh? We've both tried to kill each other while wigged out on illegal substances." Jim chuckled as Blair snorted at him.

"Someone may start to question Simon's leadership abilities, if this shit keeps up," Blair laughed. Then he groaned as another pain hit him. He pushed down the sheet to study his belly.

Jim reached over and helped lift Blair's nightshirt out of the way. He ran a fingertip gently across the area above the bandage covering Blair's stitches, and smiled as Blair's belly twitched.

"Watch it, I'm ticklish," Blair warned.

"Yeah?" Jim asked, interested. He stroked his fingertips over Blair's belly-button, an 'outie', he noticed, and smiled as Blair started to giggle.

"Quit it, man!" Blair ordered, trying to stop giggling.

"Or what?" Jim teased, walking his fingers slowly up and down Blair's tummy, avoiding the injury.

Blair tried to push Jim's fingers away as they crawled across his sensitive skin. "OR... you'll make me tear my stitches, and they won't let me go home tomorrow!" He grinned smugly as Jim quickly took his hand away.

"OK, you win," Jim relented. Then he leaned forward and bobbed his eyebrows. "For now," he added, in a sinister voice.

Blair took a deep breath, and sighed. He looked at Jim for a moment, then looked down at his hands in his lap. He pulled the sheet back over his body, and began to thoughtfully twist one corner of it between his fingers.

Jim watched the nervous action with curiosity. "Blair? What's wrong?" he asked, in concern.

Blair sighed, and looked deeply into Jim's eyes. He bit his lip for a moment before answering.

"Jim...," he began softly, hesitantly. "Jim... you said that the drug amplified your feelings... right?" Blair paused, waiting for confirmation, reluctant about what he had to ask.

Jim nodded uneasily, trying to decipher what was going through his Guide's mind. "That's right, Chief. Why?" he asked.

"So... something that you only feel on a... SUBCONSCIOUS level... would turn into an overwhelming, uncontrollable urge, yes?" Blair looked at his hands again, afraid to meet Jim's eyes.

"Go on," Jim prodded gently, nodding.

Blair swallowed hard before gazing into Jim's eyes again. "I was... I was just wondering. Did that include what you were feeling when.... When you were.... When you said.... You know, on the roof...,"

"When I told you I loved you?" Jim finished.

Blair nodded, blue eyes wide with hope.

Jim leaned forward. Very slowly, he reached up to cup Blair's face in his hands. He paused for a long moment, just gazing into the beautiful blue eyes. When he spoke, his voice was low, warm, and full of love.

"If so, then we have a problem, Chief," Jim said, brushing his thumbs across Blair's cheekbones. He moved his face slowly toward Blair's.

"What's that?" Blair breathed, his eyes drifting shut as his and Jim's faces came closer together. He could feel Jim breathing against his lips.

"Because," Jim whispered, "It means that not only is the drug still affecting me..., but it's getting worse," Jim gently pressed his lips to Blair's.

Blair inhaled sharply through his nose as Jim's lips closed over his own. He moved his hands up to wrap around Jim's neck as he let his lips part, inviting Jim's tongue in to explore.

Jim took the invitation, letting his tongue sweep slowly through the sweet cavern of Blair's mouth. He nibbled gently on the full bottom lip, moaning a little as he felt the slender hands move up to weave through his close-cropped hair. Jim's hands drifted down to Blair's shoulders, gently squeezing the muscles through the thin nightshirt.

Blair licked at Jim's mouth, sucking and gently nipping on the sensitive little nub at the center of the upper lip. He smiled as he heard Jim moan, and the big arms moved to encircle his waist. After another minute, Blair broke the kiss, and leaned forward in Jim's arms to lay his head on the strong shoulder.

Jim held Blair to him, rubbing his hands up and down the warm back, memorizing the contours of Blair's body. He moved one hand to weave gently through the dark curls on the back of Blair's head, and heard his love's little sigh of contentment.

Blair closed his eyes, soaking up the warmth of Jim's body. Jim smelled good; manly, but not sweaty. No cologne or aftershave to distract from the simple smell of a male body. Blair breathed deeply, inhaling his big friend's scent, and began to drift off to sleep.

Jim held Blair close, and smiled as he heard the little snore against his ear, and felt Blair's arms begin to go limp. Gently, slowly, Jim eased Blair back down onto the bed, carefully cradling his head. He settled the young man, and tugged the sheets up to Blair's chin. He just sat there for a long time, stroking the smooth forehead, watching his beautiful Guide's face lose its lines of fatigue and pain as the young man slipped deeper into sleep.

"Sir? Visiting hours are over, now." The young female nurse's voice was reluctant. She hated to separate these two; they obviously cared very deeply for each other. She gave the big man a little smile, and shrugged apologetically. He smiled back at her before leaning down to kiss the forehead of the young man in the bed.

Jim kissed Blair's brow, and brushed the dark curls back one last time before gathering up his coat and leaving. There was an extra little bounce in Ellison's gait as he walked down the hall, and the dopey grin of a man in love was plastered firmly on his lips. He loved Blair Sandburg, and Blair loved him back.

Life was good.

On to Part 4