New Arrivals

Blind Man's Bluff Missing Scene
by Alicia

Summary: Missing scene for Blind Man's Bluff.

Disclaimer: I do not own the charcters of TS. If I did I'd take much better care of them!!! They are owned by Pet Fly and Paramount.

Jim held Blair tightly as they both slid to the pavement of the parking garage. The Sentinel totally focused on the shallow breathing and erratic heartbeat of his guide, feeling the young man's skin turn icy as his body succumbed to the poison coursing through his veins.

"Damb, Simon, we're losing him here. Where's that damb ambulance?" Jim said tightly as he rocked Blair back and forth.

"It's on its way…ETA 5 minutes." Simon reported as he knelt down by Jim and Blair.


When the paramedics arrived to work on Blair, Simon pulled Jim out of the way keeping a strong hand on the Sentinels shoulder to ground him, while also turning his attention to the officers in the garage.

"Some one get that gas turned off before the whole damb building goes. Brown, get upstairs and make sure the hazmat team bags that pizza on Ellison's desk…we think it was spiked with Golden and meant to take down the whole department. Get it to the lab ASAP and for god's sakes don't let anyone touch it without gloves."

"On it cap," Brown said, turning back to the building.

"The rest of you back to your duties—I want maintenance on this pronto. I also want to see reports on my desk by the end of shift," Simon finished giving orders to turn back to the paramedics working on his observer.

"…male, mid twenties. Shallow reps; weak, thready pulse. We're having problems keeping him stabilized for transport. Possible OD…" The EMTs radio report was suddenly interrupted as the angry Sentinel pulled from Simon's grasp and lunged toward the voice of the paramedic's voice.

"He didn't OD, damb you," Jim growled, stopped from reaching the offending voice by his captain's strong grasp. "He was poisoned."

"Unit 7, do you read, respond. Your report was cut off." A voice came over the radio.

"It's okay general, we're ready to transport. ETA 10 minutes," the paramedic responded, never taking his eyes off the large, angry man.


Two hours. Two agonizing hours the men and women of major crimes waited for word on one of their own. Finally the inner doors of the ER opened and a very tired doctor walked out to greet the worried officers.

"I need to speak with the family of Mr. Sandburg?" The doctor questioned the group in the waiting room, surprised when nearly the whole room responded with looks and nods.

"That'd be me doc," Jim said jumping to his feet. "How is he? Is he going to be okay" I need to see him…"

"Hold on…sir. What is your relationship to the patient?"

"He's my partner, dammit, and I need to see him."

Simon came up quickly and put his arms on Jim's shoulders. "Sorry doctor we are all extremely worried. Mr. Sandburg is a member of my department…I'm Captain Banks and this is Detective Ellison, Sandburg's partner."

"Your man is in critical condition, captain. That he has survived this long is nothing short of a miracle…he's got ten times the amount of this drug in his system that could kill a person." The doctor's words were questioning, and he was watching Simon expectantly, but the answer came from a very angry sentinel

"You think he did this to himself?" Jim raged at the doctor. The other members of MC also took a few menacing steps forward, anger competing with worry on their faces.

"Jim, ease up. Blair needs you with him not in a cell." Simon hissed in his ear, and without removing his hands from Jim's shoulder he addressed the doctor impatiently," He was poisoned, doctor, in the line of duty. Some perps we're after decided to take down my whole department. Does that clarify things for you?"

"Sorry, captain. I wasn't implying anything, I've just seen to many senseless deaths because of drugs and this new one in particular is one of the worst…"the doctor placated tiredly.

"When can I see him," Jim repeated impatiently, almost pleadingly. "He was terrified in the garage, he'll be scared to death when he wakes up. I need to be with him."

The doctor's face became even grimmer and he took a deep breath and released it slowly. "He won't be waking up anytime soon…right now he's in a coma…"

"A coma!" "Dear gods." "Oh. Sandy." These and more murmurs went through the group in the waiting room. Simon felt Jim sag under his hand.

The doctor continued speaking. "You need to be prepared when you do see him. Like I said, right now he's in a coma…and, he's on a vent until we can get his breathing stabilized…"

"Vent?! You mean Blair's on a ventilator; he can't even breath on his own," Simon exclaimed. "Doc, is he going to make it or not?"

"It's to early to give you any definite answers…he's critical and we're having a difficult time keeping him stabilized, but for now the young man is holding his own. I wont lie to you, pray for the best but prepare yourself for the worse. He may never regain consciousness, and even if he did we aren't sure how much cognitive function he'll have retained."

Jim tried to wrap his mind around the doctor's words. "Brain damage, you think he'll have some sort of brain damage?"

With a heavy sigh the doctor answered. "If he even survives he'll likely be in vegetative state. I am very sorry that the news isn't any more encouraging. When he's settled in his room I'll have the nurse come and get you so you can sit with him for awhile."

"Thank you doctor," Simon said, his voice raw with emotion.



Jim moved quietly into the darkened ICU room, just making out the shape of his guide through the golden haze of his slowly returning vision. He moved to the side of the bed and pulled up a chair. "Good job, chief. The doc says your breathing stabilized enough to remove the vent an hour ago. You're going to beat this buddy; you can come back anytime you're ready. It's safe now. They can't hurt you or anyone else anymore."

Leaning over the bed Jim took Blair's hand in his forcing his voice to sound lighter. "There's more good news, chief. We got them. The guys dealing the Golden, we took them down this afternoon, that's why I had to leave you for a while. I just had to be there, I had to see them go down. And that's the other thing. You were right, my visions coming back…I can make out shapes now, everything is coming back into focus, and the thing I want…need, to see most is those baby blue's of yours. Come on chief, it's time to wake up now."

Staring intently, Jim searched Blair's face for any sign of returning consciousness, as though the same force of will he used to reconnect to his sight might also reconnect Blair to the conscious world.

The relief Jim felt when Blair's eyes suddenly popped open was short lived. The young man stared straight ahead, no recognition in his dull, glassy gaze. Jim rested forehead gently against Blair's, pleading softly, "Oh, god, Blair. Don't do this, don't give up—fight. I know you're in there. Please, please, come back now."

Jim was rewarded with a near inaudible sigh from his friend before Blair's eyes slid closed, and the Sentinel sensed his guide slip into a deep, healing sleep. "Yes, buddy. Everything is going to be all right now. I'm right here."



Simon slipped quietly into the ICU room, stopping just inside the door as his eyes adjusted to the near darkness. "Jim?"

Jim stirred in his seat and looked up at his captain, asking quietly, "Everything go smoothly?"

"Our 'golden boys' are falling all over each other to be the first to make a deal when they realized how many murder charges were being tacked on to their little excursion into the drug trade," Simon said as he moved to Blair's bedside. "So, how are things going? I heard that he's breathing on his own, that they were able to take him off the vent."

Jim rubbed his hands over his face and gave a tired sigh. "He opens his eyes…"

"He woke up? That's great…" When Simon's happy exclamation was not reciprocated his face fell. "Jim, what is it?"

Jim stood up from his chair, looking down at Blair while running his hand gently over his friend's forehead. "No, Simon. He opens his eyes sometimes, but 'he' isn't there…" Jim trailed off quietly.

"So the doctor's aren't ruling out brain damage yet?" Simon's voice was quiet and tight with worry.

"Not completely." was Jim's flat response. He looked up and met Simon's gaze, "He's in there Simon; I know he is. He just has to know it's safe to come back to us."

They stood in silence for a few moments, each lost to there own thoughts and worries when suddenly Jim's head jerked up to view the heart monitor then returned to gaze intently at Blair. "That's it Blair. I know you're in there. Come up, wake up this time."

"What, Jim. What is it?"

With eyes still closed, a dry voice, barely above a whisper, pleaded weakly. "Nooo…stay away…back. Burnt…everyone, burnt…dead. My fault..sorry, so sorry. Nooo."

Jim grasped Blair's hand tightly, his other hand on his forehead. "Chief. Blair. We're safe, everyone's safe. You can come back. The fire people are gone, Blair. They can't hurt you anymore."

Blair just squirmed weakly in the bed, whimpering in pain and fear.

"Come on Blair, it's just a dream. You need to wake up buddy, open your eyes. You're safe. I'm right here with you," Jim pleaded with his friend.

Barely above a whisper Blair continued in his nightmare. "No… dead. Couldn't stop them…couldn't…."

"Blair, wake up," Jim said more sharply than he intended, fear for his guide tearing at his soul, he gave Blair a slight shake.

Blair's eyes snapped open, roaming over the room in dazed confusion until they settled on the Sentinel. "…iimm…here, not dead." He started to tremble violently, tears streaming unbidden down his ashen face, his voice a harsh whisper, "so awful, dead, burnt…everybody gone…."

Simon was overwhelmed by Blair's drug induced nightmare and reached out to firmly but gently grasp his other hand. "Blair, it's Simon. We're right here; Jim and I are right here. You're safe now, do you understand, son. You're safe and in the hospital."

Blair set his bleary eyes on Simon, "Simon? Hospital…so tired." With that he slid back into… unconsciousness? Sleep? Simon wasn't quite sure.

Jim sighed heavily and slumped back in his seat by Blair's bed, never releasing his grip on his friend's hand.

"What the hell was that? Thought you said he wasn't responding?"

"After they removed the vent he started to become more…animate. Not quite waking up, he's more in a twilight state…" Jim started to explain when Simon interrupted.

"But he was awake…responding?"

"He's not really responding to us…to outside stimulus. He's just reacting to his nightmares: to the drug in his system. The doctor thinks they are flashbacks." Jim finished explaining.

"But at least he's doing something, right? This has to be a good sign at least that he's not going to stay in a vegetative state?"

"No he won't be a vegetable…"

"I hear a 'but'?

"But, the doctor warned this could be all the better he will get. God, Simon, he could stay in this—'limbo', indefinitely." Jim's voice cracked with pent-up emotion, as he stared into his guides face.

Simon stared at Jim for a moment and asked quietly. "Do you think he's in there?"

"Yes." Was the quiet reply.

"Then don't talk like you're willing to give up on him just yet. If he's lost part of himself then we just have to help him find it again. Stop with the pity. Start treating him like the intelligent man he is and not like some helpless vegetable." Simon ordered.

"I'm willing to do anything," Jim said meeting his captain's gaze.

Simon quirked an eyebrow and smiled. "Anything?"

Jim nodded. "Good, because the first order of business is to get you home." Simon raised a hand to stave off the protest he knew was coming. "Ah, you said anything so hear me out. You're going home getting a decent meal and a decent nights rest in a bed, there are plenty of people at the station that would come and sit with Blair for a while. Then we are going to start 'operation Sandburg'…we'll start filling up that sponge-like brain of his with all those anthropology facts none of us understand; we'll all take a shift reading to him, watching TV, going over cases, anything to stimulate him…."

Jim stared open-mouthed at Simon, looking at his captain like the man had just sprouted another head. "Simon? You're serious?"

Simon just smiled and reached for the phone on the stand. "Joel's been chomping at the bit to come and sit with the kid. So tonight Taggart gets him and you get some rest; you're going to need it if you expect to help get your partner back."


For the next three days everyone from major crimes and a few of Blair's friends from the university took shifts to sit with the young man and keep him abreast of the world outside his hospital room. Simon stepped through the door to find Jim staring off into space, a book held limply in his hand.

"You better not be zoning on me, Ellison. One person in laa-laa land is all I can handle at one time," Simon grumbled going over to give his detective a shake.

Jim responded with a tired sigh. "I'm not zoning, Simon. Just thinking. It's just getting so hard to see him like this, so still, so quiet. He should be regaling us with some tale of tribal customs we don't understand from a tribe we've never heard of…He should be at the university teaching or at the library studying. Instead he's laying here, because of police work, my work. How can this happen, he should have been safe, we were at the station, dammit; one place we should… I should be able to keep him safe, where he has a right to feel safe…" Jim ranted, having gotten up to pace the floor.

"Jim, he knows the risks. He got a taste of our life as cops pretty early on. He could have bailed after the Saris case, facing down an armed psycho with a bomb should have been enough to scare him away, but it didn't and neither did Kincaid or Quinn. Give him some credit Jim, he doesn't follow you blindly and he doesn't just do it because you're a Sentinel. He does it because he's your friend…"

Jim was about to respond glibly that with friends like him Blair didn't need any enemies when a hoarse whisper floated from the bed. "Couldn't have said it better myself."

"Chief…Blair," Jim called, going to his friend's side, smiling at the fuzzy recognition he received.

"Simon…right…bad luck." Blair struggled to speak. "Water…" a cup was at his lips in an instant, and he took a few tentative sips, "better. Safe…with my…sentinel." Energy spent, Blair gave Jim's hand a weak squeeze and drifted off to sleep.

"Guess he told you," Simon said with a chuckle, a huge grin on his face. "I think I'll go make some phone calls, spread some 'good' news for a change."

Looking up at his captain, Jim matched his friend's grin. "You do that Simon. You do that."