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Warning: Domestic violence references.

War of the Hearts
by Stacy L.A. Stronach
June/July 1997


The next day (Tuesday)

Simon Banks and Joel Taggart walked into the Captain's office,
discussing the bomb threat that had been phoned in yesterday,
saying that there was a bomb at The Cascade Center, one of the
city's largest office buildings. Fortunately, no bomb had been
found, but it had required the evacuation and search of the
entire building.

Simon noticed the letter on his desk when he sat down, and
picking it up, noticed Blair Sandburg's ID tag underneath of it.
A frown creased his forehead as he opened the letter, wondering
what the hell this was about.

Noticing the ID tag, Joel muttered, "What the hell...?" then
waited as Simon read the letter. Simon handed the letter to Joel
to read when he finished.

Joel read:


Simon

As of today, I'm resigning my observer status with the Cascade
Police Department. Sorry for the short notice, but I didn't want
Jim to know about this.

I know you're probably wondering why. I don't want to go into too
much detail, but let's just say, things didn't work out with Jim
and me. I had to get away from the situation.

Simon, thanks for everything, and say goodbye to Daryl for me.
Please give my regards to Joel, Brown, and Rafe, and I'm sorry I
couldn't say good bye to them in person.

I'll be in touch soon.

Respectfully

Blair Sandburg


Joel looked at Simon, "They were...lovers?"

Simon nodded, "Yeah, for a few months, anyway."

Joel wasn't completely surprised, he'd suspected there was
something between the two men, but figuring their private lives
were just that, had never asked. "But why does he say he didn't
want Jim to know he was ending his observer status...?"

As Joel asked the question out loud, both men felt a sickening
realization in the pits of their stomachs. "Oh, God, Simon, you
don't think Jim..."

The two men stood there, silently, looking at each other, both
remembering the past few months. Blair's subtle change in
attitude, a dampening of his enthusiastic nature, days when he'd
moved rather gingerly, as if hurt, but brushing off concerns, and
finally, about a week and a half ago, the black eye. Taken
separately, those things meant little, but when added together...
Both men felt guilty, but they hadn't been looking for it,
and unless you're looking for something, you usually don't find
it.

Simon called Jim into his office, and holding up Blair's ID tag,
said, "What the hell is this all about, Ellison? Why did he
leave?"

Jim stood stock still, the only movement the clenching of his
jaw, he answered, but was unable to meet his Captain's eyes, "I
wouldn't really know, sir."

"I think you do, and I think I do, as well. Jim, were you--"
Simon stopped mid sentence, as Joel Taggart rushed Jim, pushing
him up against the wall, his arm pressing across the other man's
throat. "You beat him, didn't you, you sonofabitch? Didn't
you!?!" Joel cried angrily, his arm pressing harder against Jim's
throat. Jim croaked out an affirmative response, and Joel pressed
even harder, "I should beat you, so you know what it feels like
you bastard. How could you hurt him, what the fuck did he ever do
to you?"

"TAGGART STOP IT!!" Simon bellowed, going to pull the big man off
of Jim. Taggart released Jim, but not before shoving him hard
against the wall, hard enough to knock the breath out of Jim. He
looked into Jim's face and hissed, "You're a sick bastard,
Ellison, nothing but a fucking coward," and he turned and walked
out of Simon's office, slamming the door behind him. The bullpen
was deathly silent as Joel strode through. Most of the people
there had never seen the man that angry before and most of them
were thanking whatever gods they believed in, that they weren't
the target of his anger.

Joel went outside to get some fresh air and calm down, he
couldn't believe that Jim Ellison would do that, to Blair of all
people. He really had really grown to like Blair, the younger man
had been like a little brother to him, annoying as hell
sometimes, but overall, he was a great kid. Dammit, he hated
abusers of any sort, but he'd never expected anything like this
from Jim Ellison. Joel felt guilty, he should've seen what was
going on...Shaking his head, Joel put the thought out of his
head, he hadn't noticed and now Blair was gone, and he was going
to miss the kid.

Simon stared at Jim, his mind reeling, *I can't believe Jim would
do that to anyone, let alone Sandburg* "Jesus Christ, Jim, what
the hell is wrong with you? I'm putting you on a leave of
absence, for at least two weeks, if not longer. I want you to get
help, Jim, I won't let you back to work if you don't. And you
should be thankful we don't have any direct evidence of what you
did to Blair, or I'd have you charged."

Jim stared at Simon, and said, "Yes, sir." When Simon didn't say
anything else, Jim turned to leave.

"Ellison, I want you to give me your badge and gun." When Jim
didn't immediately comply, Simon continued, "That _wasn't_ a
request, detective."

Jim didn't reply, he just put the requested items on Simon's desk
and stalked out of his Captain's office, stopping only to
retrieve his coat before heading home. As he drove home, Jim
couldn't believe Simon had taken him off of active duty, *This is
all Blair's fault, Simon wouldn't have done this to me if he'd
stayed.* Jim could feel his anger rising again and he was more
determined than ever to find Blair, to bring him back, to make
him pay for the trouble he'd caused Jim. He spent most of the day
moping around the loft, drinking beer, feeling sorry for himself
and angry with Blair. Around midnight, he managed to haul himself
upstairs and collapsed on his bed, passing out from all the beer
he'd drunk.

Jim woke the next morning at his usual time, feeling the
hangover, but then remembered he couldn't go into work, so rolled
over and slept again. He didn't get out of bed until later that
afternoon, and he went downstairs, fixing himself a quick lunch.
Jim decided to start looking for Blair. He called the University,
but all they could tell him was that Professor Sandburg was on a
three month leave of absence. Next, he tried some of Blair's
friends, but all they could tell him was that Blair had decided
to take a vacation, but that he hadn't told them where. Jim,
using his senses, could tell these people honestly didn't know
where Blair had gone.

He decided to call the airlines to see if Blair had left on a
plane, and to find out where he'd gone. Jim discovered that Blair
had made reservations on 20 flights but he couldn't find out
which one Blair had taken. There had been a major computer
malfunction and the clerk informed him that the information he
needed had been scrambled and it would be about a week before
they'd find out if that information was salvagable. Jim asked if
the airlines at the destination locations would have the
information he needed and the clerk told him that they would, so
grabbing a pen and paper, he took down all the destinations Blair
had reserved for. Places ranging from Canada to several South
American countries, Russia to Australia. Jim decided to work from
the hottest places to the coldest, temperature wise, knowing how
Blair hated the cold.

Saturday

Jim had found out, after making about a dozen calls to various
airline offices worldwide, that Blair had been on a flight to
Rome. He'd then called the American embassy in Rome, telling them
he was a police officer and that it was very important that Blair
Sandburg be contacted, as there was a family emergency. Jim knew
it would be a few days before he'd hear anything back, which
didn't stop him from being frustrated over the whole thing.

He decided to do his laundry, there wasn't much else to do, and
he didn't feel like drinking all day. As he was emptying the
clothes hamper, he saw something blue and plaid behind it.
Picking it up, he realized it was one of Blair's flannel shirts.
Jim held it close to his face and breathed in, yes, he could
still smell Blair's scent on it, that wonderful smell. The
laundry forgotten, Jim walked out to stand by the windows,
looking out but not really seeing.

As Jim stood there, breathing in Blair's scent, he remembered. He
remembered the day they met, when Blair had saved his life; when
Blair had moved in with him; when he first realized he was
falling in love with the younger man and so many other things.
Then he remembered the night he'd raped Blair *My God, I _raped_
him*; the abuse he'd given the man he loved, *Oh, Blair, I'm so
sorry*; the day his love had left.

As the memories washed over Jim, he felt something deep in the
well of his soul shatter, like so much fine crystal, into a
million shards. As Jim fell heavily to the floor, a loud keening
cry burst forth from him, and then he started to cry. He sat
there, hugging himself, with Blair's shirt pressed against him,
rocking back and forth. Mourning what he'd lost, what he knew
he'd probably never get back.

Simon stood outside Jim's door, listening. He'd been about to
knock when he'd heard the moaning noises. Quickly retrieving his
spare key to Jim's apartment, he unlocked the door, rushing
inside, almost afraid of what he'd find. What he saw surprised
him, Jim lying on the floor of the living room, curled up on his
side, his face pressed against something blue, and he was
shaking. *God, I hope he's not zoned or something, I don't think
I could help him* Simon thought as he went over to his friend.

Simon knelt down beside his friend, reaching out to shake his
shoulder, "Jim. Jim! It's Simon, man. What's wrong, are you
okay?"

When Jim looked up at his captain, Simon almost gasped as he saw
the look of utter desolation and devastation in those blue eyes.
"What did I do, Simon, my God, what did I do. Joel was right I'm
just a fucking bastard coward. I loved Blair how could I hurt
him, how could I...." Jim trailed off, as fresh sobs racked his
body. Simon reached out and pulled Jim into a hug, not saying
anything, just holding him, until the crying tapered off.

Helping the other man up, Simon led him over to the couch and sat
down beside him, "Jim, what happened?"

Jim looked at him, "From the beginning?"

"Yes, from the beginning, Jim," Simon said.

So, Jim told Simon, everything. From his finding out about
Blair's prostitution, to the rape, to the abuse, and even what
he'd been doing to try and find Blair.

Simon had held his comments until Jim was finished, he hadn't
wanted to interrupt. "My God, Jim. Did you ever find out why
Blair was selling himself?"

"No, I wasn't myself, I sure as hell was thinking very clearly."

"As to the rest of it, I don't know what to say. What can I say?
Other than I think you really need to seek professional help to
try and deal with this, Jim. And, I'm going to call the embassy
in Rome and cancel your request, I think that would be
appropriate, don't you?"

"Yeah, Simon. I'm going to look into counselling on Monday.
Thanks for being such a good friend, Simon, I sure as hell don't
deserve it, after what I've done."

"Jim, that's what friends are for, to be there when you need
them, no matter what. And it's like what they say about say about
addictions: the battle's half won when you admit you have a
problem. And you've done that, Jim."

"Thanks, Simon."


Two weeks later

Blair shifted in the plane seat, trying to get comfortable. He
was on his way back to the States, or "The Colonies" as his
English friends had teased him. He was going to New York City, to
visit a good friend of his for a few days, after that, he wasn't
sure. He missed his life in Cascade, but he wasn't sure if he
could go back there so soon.

Blair had spent the last three weeks travelling around the
English countryside, trying to process, as Naomi would put it,
what had happened to him this last little while. The biggest
conclusion he'd come up with was that he missed Jim, not the Jim
of the last few months, but the man he'd known before.

Blair sighed, it wasn't doing any good, longing for what he
he could probably never have again.

As Blair walked through the gate, he saw his friend, Jules
Hanson, waiting for him. He and Jules had known each other since
they were fifteen, when Naomi had lived with Jules' father,
Victor. Their friendship had formed almost instantly and they had
kept in touch even after their parents had broken up.

Jules pulled Blair into an embrace, "Hey, Blair, you look as
gorgeous as ever."

"You don't look too bad yourself, Jules," Blair replied. Jules
was a couple inches taller than Blair, with shoulder length
auburn hair and deep green eyes.

"C'mon, I'll take you home and feed you supper, you must be
starving after suffering that crap they call food, on the
flight."

"Yeah, man, you got that right."

When they arrived at the apartment, Jules put Blair's stuff in
the guest room and the two men set to making supper. After
dinner, they were sitting in the living room, when Jules asked,
"So, Blair, what's happened? Why are you travelling all over the
place? Tell me all about it, love."

Blair told Jules everything, from the prostitution to the abuse.
When he'd finished, Jules looked at him, "You were turning tricks
again, man? I thought you said you'd never do that again?" He was
referring to when the boys had been sixteen, Naomi and Victor had
taken off to Europe for the summer, leaving the two boys under
the care of the housekeeper, who hadn't paid too much attention
to them. Jules and Blair had spent the summer on the streets and
had eventually tried selling themselves, for the "fun" of it,
they sure as hell didn't need the money. Victor Hanson was a
multi millionaire. Jules hadn't been phased by it, but Blair had
never enjoyed it, and had stopped after only a few johns.

"You remember Cassie McGuire, and her brother Arty? Well, Arty
showed up, threatening to tell Jim all about what had happened,
if I didn't give him some money. I couldn't let Jim find out,
he'd have kicked me out, and I'm not sure the statute of
limitations is up on that either. If I got charged, I wouldn't
have been able to work with Jim anymore, so I did what I had to.
The night Jim followed me was my last client, I had enough money.
I was able to pay Arty off, and haven't heard from him since,"
Blair explained.

Jules punched Blair in the arm, "You can be such a stupid ass
sometimes, Sandburg. Why didn't you call me? I would've given you
the money, hell, I would've had ole Arty taken care of. And I may
yet, he'll only come back for more, Blair, that's the way black
mailers work, this is the second time he's come after you.
Besides, you were just a kid yourself when that happened, how
could Jim blame you? She told you she was legal, man."

Blair had been 19 and dating (and sleeping with) Cassie, she'd
told him she was 18, but in reality, she'd only been 15, which
meant he'd committed statuatory rape. Arty had found out about
it, and he had taken some rather compromising pictures, with
which he'd black mailed Blair then and again now.

"I just don't think sometimes, man. I can be so stupid sometimes,
you're right," Blair answered, sadly.

The two men talked for a while longer, then Blair noticed it was
almost ten o'clock, hmmm, that meant it would be seven back home,
Simon should be home by now. "Jules, do mind if I use your phone
to call a friend of mine in Cascade?"

"No, go right ahead, man," Jules replied.

Blair dialed the number, hoping that Simon would be home. The
phone was answered by a youthful voice, "Hello, this is the
Banks' residence."

Blair smiled, "Hey, Daryl, how ya doin' man?"

"Blair! I'm doing pretty good, how are you? Are you coming home
soon?" Daryl asked.

"I'm okay, Daryl, but I'm still not sure when I'm coming home.
Look, is your dad there, I need to talk to him," Blair asked.

"Yep, just a sec. DAD!! It's Blair on the phone!" Daryl yelled
the last part without bothering to take the phone away from his
mouth, and Blair winced.

Taking the phone from his son, and indicating he wanted privacy,
Simon spoke, "Blair, where are you? And how are you doing?"

"I'm in New York right now, and I'm doing okay. Simon, how...how
is Jim doing?"

"Blair, look. I know what happened with you and Jim, okay? Jim's
doing fine, in fact, he's been in therapy for the past two weeks,
and is returning to work on Monday."

"Oh, Jim's in therapy already? I'm surprised, I didn't think he
would go."

Simon proceeded to tell Blair what had happened at Jim's that
Saturday, two weeks ago, and what had transpired since.

"Oh, gods, Simon, I should have been there for him--"

Simon cut him off, "Blair, if you'd stayed, this wouldn't have
happened. He'd still be abusing you. You know that. You've got
nothing to feel guilty about."

"Knowing it in my head, and knowing it my heart are two different
things, Simon, it's gonna take awhile for my heart to believe it.
Simon, I want to come home, do you think that's a good idea?"
Blair asked.

"Yes, I do, Blair. Jim misses you, hell, we all miss you. And if
I didn't think it was a good idea or that you'd be safe, I
wouldn't tell you to come home," Simon answered.

"I miss Jim too, and you. And the guys at the station. I just
have a little problem, Simon, I don't have anywhere to stay, and
I don't think I can move back in with Jim right away."

"Tell you what, Blair, you tell me what you want for an
apartment, price range, locale, and I'll find you something, and
if you tell me where your stuff is, I'll arrange to have it moved
in for you, okay?" Simon offered.

"Hey, man, that would be great! Thanks Simon, you're such a great
friend," Blair said. The two men spent the next few minutes
discussing what Blair needed and when Blair was going to be
coming home. Simon told Blair he'd call him on Monday, and let
him know what was going on.


Monday evening

Jim walked into his therapist's office and dropped into the
overstuffed armchair across from the desk, sighing heavily. His
therapist, Sybil Peterson, looked up and smiled at him, "I'll be
with you in a couple of minutes, okay, Jim?"

He nodded, looking at the woman. She was of First Nations
descent, and had straight, waist-length blue black hair, and eyes
so brown, they were almost black. Her smooth skin was dark brown,
and she had a beautiful face, with high cheekbones. She reminded
him of a horse, not that she looked like one, by any means, but
she had that head held high pride, and the energy of a horse. Jim
wondered idly if the horse was her spirit guide, he wouldn't be
surprised.

Jim had met with several therapists before deciding on Sybil,
he'd liked her from the start, she was a no nonsense, "don't give
me any bullshit" type of person. She'd been quite agreeable to
_not_ writing down everything Jim told her, and when he'd asked
her how she viewed things like spirit guides or animal guides,
she stopped and looked at him, carefully. "That is part of my
heritage, detective, and I embrace my heritage. I believe that
everyone has a spirit/animal guide." Jim had needed someone he
could trust, especially if it became necessary to discuss his
Sentinel abilities, and he was pretty sure it would. His heart
told him he could trust this woman, and it was very rare his
instincts were wrong.

Jim smiled as he remembered the day he'd told her about his
Sentinel abilities. She looked at him like he was trying to pull
her leg. "Okay," she'd said, "if this is true, then you can read
that plaque on the back wall."

Her jaw almost dropped when Jim had read it word for word, and
he'd assured her that he hadn't read it up close at any time
previous to that. She'd accepted and believed him, and told him
of a legend of her people about others who had similar abilities.

"Jim, Jim! You here or what?" she asked him, bringing him out of
his reverie.

"Sorry, Sybil, just thinking, lost in thought, I guess."

"So, how did today go? How did it feel to be back at work?"

"It went fine, and it felt great to be back at work, though I
missed having Blair with me. I'm glad I decided to go back early,
it gives me something else to focus on, and I need that right
now."

"What do you mean by that, Jim?"

"Well, as I've told you, it's never been easy for me to express
my emotions, let alone talk about them, to try and deal with
them. I've been doing that so much lately that my life felt out
of balance. Like I'd swung from one extreme to the other. And
extremes of any kind aren't good, are they?"

"You have a point there, Jim. Now, last week, you said you'd had
some insight into what was the cause behind your abusive
behaviour, and you wanted the weekend to explore that. What have
you come up with?"

"I realized I'd never dealt with how I really felt about what
Blair had been doing. I was angry with him for doing it, and
angry with myself for not noticing sooner, for not protecting him
from whatever made him do it. I'm supposed to protect him and I
failed. Instead of talking with him about it, I kept it inside.
Every time I'd get angry over something, it was like there was
this larger anger behind it, and instead of dealing with it, I'd
push it away. But I didn't really push it away, I expressed it
physically, by hurting Blair. I held onto my anger at what he'd
done, instead of letting it go. My frustration with myself and
how inadequate I'd been, and this anger just seemed to roll in
and over each other, building, like a snowball rolling down a
hill. God, I don't know if that makes sense or not, Sybil."

"No, it does, Jim. Instead of expressing your anger, frustration,
fear, and sense of failure, by talking about it, you tried to
keep it inside. It would explode, like anything under pressure
will, and that explosion took the form of hurting the one that
you felt, even if it was subconsciously, was responsible for
those feelings."

"Yeah. And every time I hurt Blair, it was like I was in some kind
of zone out, like I was watching things from a distance. Then I'd
get angry at myself, and it would just seem to start the whole
cycle over again. It was like during that time I was someone
else."

They spent the rest of the session coming up with strategies to
help Jim express his anger, and other feelings, in safe,
comfortable ways.

Wednesday

"Ellison, my office, now!" Simon yelled into the bullpen.

Obeying his Captain's summons, Jim went into his office. Simon
handed Jim a file folder, "This is your latest case, I'd like you
to read that, then we'll discuss it." Simon looked at his watch.
"Damn, Jim, I have to go out for a few minutes, can you wait here
for me?"

"Yeah, sure, Simon, no problem," Jim answered as he settled in a
chair to read the report.

He was so engrossed in the folder that he didn't hear the
footsteps or notice the man standing behind him, until he heard a
soft voice say, "Jim."

He jumped up and turned around, looking, not quite believing,
"Blair? Is it really you?" Jim wanted nothing more than to pull
Blair into his arms, but he resisted, not wanting to scare the
other man. "Can I hug you?"

Blair looked up at Jim, tears shining in his eyes, "Oh, yeah, Big
Guy."

Jim pulled Blair into his arms, and when he felt Blair's arms
twine around his neck, he could feel the tears well up in his own
eyes. "Oh, Blair, I love you. I'm so sorry."

"I know, Jim. I love you too," Blair said, placing a gentle kiss
on Jim's lips.

As they stood there, holding onto one another, both men knew that
this was just the beginning, that there was a long road ahead of
them, and that it would require a lot of work. That there would
be a lot of pain, but that there would be joy as well. They also
both realized that it would be worth it. And that there was no
where else they wanted to be.


The End