New
Arrivals
Author-Sorcha
Titles
Hush
Part Two
by Sorcha
See notes and disclaimer in Part One.
Blair ignored any suspicions that he had concerning Jim's motives when the older man suggested that Sandburg join him for a short weekend camping trip. Blair jumped at the chance to get away from the city, and quickly packed a few things while Jim started loading up the truck with gear.
Ellison was relieved when Blair agreed to the trip, and he decided not to scare his friend off too early. So they drove out of the city and into the mountains talking only of harmless everyday things. They had the tent set up by early afternoon and Jim wasted no time in cracking out his fishing gear. He waded out into the river while Blair moved slightly up stream and sat cross-legged on the bank to meditate. The peace of the mountains and wilderness was almost deceiving; Jim could almost pretend that nothing was wrong, that all was well. Almost, but not quite.
By the time the sun dipped below the trees, the two men had enjoyed a hearty dinner caught and prepared by Jim. They sat by the campfire, relaxing in the fresh air, touchy subjects still left alone, unapproached. But as the last rays of the sun crept away to let in the night, Jim knew he couldn't leave it any longer. He looked across at his friend, who was poking at the fire with a stick. Blair was so relaxed, it seemed a shame to ruin the evening. But it had to be done.
"Blair," Jim started. "I think we should talk."
In an instant the change had taken place. Blair's whole body tensed and his face took on a guarded look. The walls had gone up again. "Jim, please. . . ." Sandburg's voice was quiet, pleading and warning at the same time.
"Talk to me, Chief. What's going on?" Jim spoke softly, in hopes of drawing Blair out of himself.
Sandburg stared into the fire. In some ways he wanted to tell Jim about Baxter so badly. Blair knew that all he would have to do was spill the beans and Jim would make sure that Baxter never came near him again. But then Jim would know what a coward he had for a partner. No. . . Blair couldn't do it. "It's nothing I can't handle, Jim."
Damn. Jim looked at the ground. How was he ever going to get this kid to open up? At least Blair hadn't completely waved off the situation this time. Ellison raised his eyes again. "So you admit now that something is going on?"
Blair felt a hot flash of anger flare up within himself. He jumped to his feet. "So what if there is?" he asked angrily.
"Maybe I can help." Jim stood to face his friend, his voice remaining calm. "If you'd just let me --"
"I don't need your help, man. If I did, I would have asked you."
"Would you have?"
"I can handle this on my own, Jim." Blair's voice was dangerously low now. "Really? I've got to wonder about that, Chief. Whatever the problem is, it's been bothering you for some time now. If you could handle it alone, I think you already would have done so. I think it's time you let me help you, Chief." Jim took a step toward Sandburg, but the younger man just took a step back.
"For God's sake, man, just LEAVE. ME. ALONE!" With that, Blair turned and stormed off into the forest.
Completely wrapped up in his anger, Blair failed to notice as he wandered further and further away from the campsite. Glad to vent his emotions through physical activity, he headed up a wooded slope at a good pace. He finally arrived at the top of the rise, breathing heavily, but still he continued on, unwilling to let go of his anger yet.
<Dammit, he treats me like a little kid! Thinks I don't know how to take care of myself. Thinks I can't fight my own battles.> Still fuming, but now tired enough to give in to his body's needs, Sandburg slowed his pace slightly. He took a few deep breaths, hoping the clean mountain air would help to clear his head.
Maybe he'd overreacted. Jim was only trying to help him. <I *have* been selfish lately, moping around. Then when Jim tries to help like the good friend he is, I go and bite his head off. Real mature. If anyone treats me like a kid, its' because I act like one.> Blair shook his head, walking harder again as his anger ebbed away and was replaced with self-disgust once again. <God, you are such an idiot, Blair. A coward and an idiot. And that's putting it nicely.>
After several more minutes of self-punishment, Blair let his thoughts turn toward what he would do next. He decided that the only thing to do would be to go back and apologize to Jim. Then, on Monday he would face up to Baxter and put this whole thing to an end. Yes, that's what he would do. Feeling better, Sandburg stopped and looked around him. It was only then that he realised that he was hopelessly and completely lost.
<Well, that went well, Ellison,> Jim dryly congratulated himself. He looked around where he stood, alone now, in their campsite. With a shake of his head, Jim moved back over to the fire. He would let Blair work off his anger for a bit, but the sentinel kept one ear open to the sounds of his guide, keeping track of him. Jim waited several minutes before deciding to head off after Blair, who was now straying dangerously far from the campsite. After making sure that the fire was safely out, Jim zipped up his jacket and hiked off into the trees.
"Oh, man, now you've *really* done it. Way to go, Einstein." Blair looked about him helplessly, but all he could see was trees in every direction. He wasn't even sure which way he'd come from now that he'd turned himself around an uncounted number of times. Sandburg was just about to call out for Jim in hopes of alerting the Sentinel to his situation and position, when a female voice spoke up from darkness.
"You wouldn't happen to be lost, would you?"
Blair whirled around to see a middle aged woman, dark hair hanging nearly to her waist, emerging from the trees. She was smiling at him, and Blair grinned back sheepishly. "Yeah, actually I am."
"I thought as much. But don't worry, you're not lost anymore. I know these woods like the back of my hand." She walked over to Blair and offered her hand. "I'm Angelina Shapiro."
"Blair Sandburg," he returned as he shook her hand. "My friend and I are camped out by the river but I wandered off and. . ."
"Say no more, Blair Sandburg." She took his arm and started walking through the forest. "I'll take you back to the river and we'll find your campsite in no time."
Blair let Angelina guide him through the trees and underbrush. "Do you live out here?"
She smiled. "Yes, several years ago my brother and I moved into a cabin not far from here."
"It must be very peaceful."
"Oh, yes," she agreed. "That's why we moved out here. About six years ago my life got very. . . troubled. I came out here to find peace, and I did. But," she paused for a second, looking at Blair, "I can see that *you* are troubled." When he said nothing, Angelina patted his arm and said gently, "You must find peace too, Blair Sandburg."
"How?"
"I think you know how," she replied.
They walked on in silence for a few minutes, Blair not sure what to say. He felt as if he were in a dream, the way Angelina had seemed to materialize in the forest and now they way she made Blair feel as if she knew and understood everything about him. He had still said nothing when Jim appeared out of the darkness ahead of them.
"Jim! Oh, man, am I glad to see you!" Angelina let go of Blair's arm as he stepped toward the sentinel. " I'm sorry I took off like that and got lost. I --"
Jim held up a hand to stop Blair's flow of words. "Sandburg, it's late and you're freezing cold. Let's just get back to the campsite, okay?" His words weren't angry but they weren't kind either.
Blair noticed Jim's somewhat cold tone immediately and didn't want to upset the man any further. He'd done enough of that for one night. Okay, maybe for a week. And Jim was right, Blair realized. He *was* freezing cold. He turned back to introduce Angelina to Jim and to thank her for her help, but she was gone. "Hey, Angelina?" He turned back to Jim. "Did you see her leave?"
"No," Jim replied, looking into the night. "That's strange. She must have slipped off while we were talking."
Blair looked back again, the called out, "Thank you."
"Let's go." Jim started moving off, in no mood to stand around.
Blair had to jog to keep up with the older man and after one look at Jim's stiff back and clenched jaw, Sandburg knew that their camping trip was ruined. And it was his own fault. He followed Jim silently back to their campsite and went straight into the tent, getting settled for the night. A few minutes later, Jim followed suit.
Blair waited until Jim had climbed into his sleeping bag and got comfortable before he said a word. Then he cautiously and quietly said, R>"I'm really sorry Jim. For biting your head off when you were just trying to help, for running off like a fool and getting lost, for everything. I know I've been really stupid lately and I hope you can forgive me. I'm going to take care of everything when we get back. No more self pity, no more moping around. Just please don't be mad at me anymore." Sandburg lay in silence, waiting for a response from Jim. The anthropologist hadn't failed to notice that Jim had only called him "Sandburg" since they'd met up in the woods. That was harder to take than Ellison's silence. If only Jim would call him "Chief" again, Blair would be able to rest. He would know that everything was okay.
Jim listened to Blair's quiet words, then lay for a moment without responding. Then, feeling tired and worn out, he sighed. "I'm not mad at you, Chief. Go to sleep, okay? I'm exhausted and I know you are too."
Blair relaxed. Jim had called him "Chief". "Okay, Jim," he whispered and closed his eyes.
* * *
Both men slept late the next morning. When they had finally risen and eaten breakfast, they set about packing up for the trip home. The night before was not talked of, and they set off for home, neither man saying much. After an extra long silence, Blair spoke up. "Oh, hey, I never even asked -- how did the home invasions case go?"
"It was the sons that were doing it. One of them spilled everything when he heard that Mr. Carlisle had died -- he said they'd only meant to rough him up a bit but then they got carried away. After that, the others confessed too." Jim tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove.
"Carried away? Man, like that's any excuse! They killed a man." Blair shook his head. "I don't understand how they could do something like that."
"That's a good thing, Chief." Jim glanced over at Sandburg for a second, then moved his eyes back to the road. "You're not like those guys, and never will be, so you shouldn't be able to understand. I wouldn't want you to. Okay?"
"Yeah, I guess." Blair rested his head against the wall of the truck's cab as they lapsed into another silence.
Shortly, Jim heard Blair's breathing even out and glanced over again to find that the younger man had fallen asleep. It was probably a good thing, Jim decided, since they'd been having a hard time keeping a conversation going and the silences had started to become tense. The kid had said that he would take care of everything, but he still hadn't let Jim in. And the Sentinel had a bad feeling that whatever had been bothering his guide wouldn't go away that easily.
* * *
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. For all three days, Ellison and Sandburg hardly saw each other for more than minute at a time. Blair was busy at the university as was Jim at the station, and when one arrived home the other was either sound asleep or still out working. So it wasn't until Thursday that Jim had a chance to keep an eye on his partner again in order to determine if Sandburg were still troubled or not.
As the two men walked off the elevator and toward the bullpen, Jim noticed that his friend seemed a bit nervous, casting his eyes around as if he were expecting something to jump out at them at any moment. But when they reached the detective's desk and got down to work, Blair seemed to settle down.
That afternoon, Jim went into the breakroom for a fresh cup of coffee and sat down to talk with Joel Taggart for a few minutes. Blair also got up for a break, heading for the washroom. When he came out again, Sandburg froze with a mingled sense of terror and deja vu. There was Baxter heading his way, glaring at Blair with those hate-filled eyes. The officer purposely walked straight into Blair, managing to crunch down on Sandburg's foot. Blair lost his balance as pain shot through his foot, and he stumbled into the wall.
"You really should learn to watch where you're going, Hippie," Baxter sneered as he walked away. "One day you might get hurt."
Blair took a moment to overcome the shock pain and to slow his pounding heart. Then he pushed away from the wall and straightened up. He was about to go back to the bullpen when his shock, fear, and shame were replaced with anger and determination. He had told Jim that he would take care of things. He couldn't let his friend down, not anymore. He'd already done enough of that. Changing directions, Blair strode off after Baxter. He saw his enemy step onto an empty elevator, and Sandburg slipped on before the doors could close.
"I want to talk to you." Blair faced the man who stood only three feet from him.
Baxter laughed cruelly and took a step closer to Sandburg, lessening the distance between them. "Oh, yeah? What about?"
Blair stood his ground, determined not to let this man intimidate him into backing against the wall. "I want you to leave me alone."
"Is that right?" Baxter grabbed a handful of Blair's shirt and forcefully backed him up against the side of the elevator car.
"I mean it, man. Leave me alone."
Baxter laughed again. "And what are you gonna do if I don't, huh? Run and cry to Ellison? Is that it?"
Blair's eyes hardened. "Fuck off."
"You think you can scare me?" Baxter tightened his grip. "Well, you can't. You're pathetic, you hear me? Pathetic."
Blair couldn't take it any longer. Before he even knew what he was doing, his fist connected with Baxter's face. The officer stumbled backward, but then he was rushing at Blair again. He grabbed Sandburg and sent him flying into the wall. Stunned, Blair sank to the floor. Then Baxter was standing over him and Blair knew he was in trouble. He was kicked in the stomach three times, but even the first kick was more than Blair ever would have liked. Through the pain, he was barely aware of Baxter stepping off the elevator, the doors closing to leave Blair alone.
Sandburg lay curled on his side, arms wrapped around his torso. Slowly, he got his breath back and tried to calm himself. But, damn, it hurt so much! He was tempted to call out for Jim, but the thought of the Sentinel finding out about this whole situation stopped him. Blair was sure that he wouldn't be able to handle the way Jim would look at him, the way Jim would think of him if he knew. But then Blair heard part of a conversation replay in his head. "I can see that you are troubled. You must find peace too, Blair Sandburg." "How?"
"I think you know how."
And in that instant, Blair did know. To hell with everything he'd felt earlier. Wincing against the pain, he drew in a deep breath and called out, "Jim! Jim, I need you. I'm in the elevator."
* * *
Jim's head jerked up and the detective sat straighter at his desk. He was fully alert, his hearing automatically kicking in, searching for something specific. Something. . . there! What he heard was his Guide's voice calling for help.
"Jim, I need you. I'm in the elevator."
Ellison shot out of the bullpen like a lightning bolt. He reached the elevator and looked above the doors, trying to pinpoint its location. Watching the numbers, Jim saw that the car was rising. At the sixth floor, it stopped. The Sentinel made a dash for the stairs, heading down at a break-neck speed. Just before he burst through the door onto the sixth floor, Jim heard Brown exclaim, "Hairboy!"
Then Jim was there, passing Rafe, who was standing by the elevator doors, keeping them from closing. He joined Brown, kneeling beside Blair, who was curled on his side. "Sandburg." Jim put a hand on his partner's arm. "Oh, God."
Blair groaned through clenched teeth. "It hurts, Jim."
"I know, buddy, just hang in there." Jim turned to Brown. "H, call an ambulance."
"No!" Blair protested, then gasped at the pain it caused. He continued more carefully. "No. No ambulance. Please, Jim. I can make it to the truck."
Jim looked into the pleading blue eyes. "Are you sure?"
Blair nodded and started to push himself into a sitting position. Hands from Jim and Henri moved to help him until he was sitting with his back against the elevator wall. One of Jim's hands remained on Sandburg's shoulders. "What the hell happened, Chief?"
Blair grimaced, his arms still holding his stomach. "I had an. . . altercation. I'll tell you about it later, Jim."
"Sandburg. . . ." Jim started in a warning tone, taking this as yet another brush off.
"No, Jim, I mean it," Blair assured him. "I'll explain everything this time. Just not here, not now."
The eyes were pleading with him again, and Jim nodded. "Okay, but you need to tell me how you're hurt."
"My stomach, my ribs. I'm not sure, it just hurts like hell."
"Okay, let's get you to the truck." Jim and Brown slowly helped Blair to stand as Rafe stepped inside and pressed the button for the garage level.
* * *
The Sentinel walked over to his guide's bedside, placing a hand on his friend's arm. Blair's eyes flickered open and he looked up at Jim. "Well, nothing's broken, no internal bleeding. Guess I was lucky, huh?"
"If you consider severe bruising and several days of pain ahead of you as luck, then I guess the answer is ‘yes'," Jim replied as he took a seat in a chair by the bed. When Blair was quiet, Jim prompted him. "Chief. . . .?"
Blair sighed and looked at Jim for a second, knowing what the detective was asking. Now was the time. Sandburg moved his eyes from Jim and fixed them on the ceiling. "It was Baxter."
Ellison wracked his brain. Baxter. . . Baxter. "John Baxter? The uniformed officer?"
Blair shrugged, then winced slightly. "I don't know his first name. But, yeah, he is a uniform. You should be able to identify him by his black eye." He lifted his right hand and wiggled his fingers a bit.
Jim caught the hand in his own and ran his thumb lightly over the bruises that had begun to show over Blair's knuckles. So the kid had got in a punch of his own. That was good, but it didn't really make Jim feel any better. He put Blair's hand back down on the bed. "You're going to have to tell me what happened, Chief."
Sandburg nodded. After a slight pause, he spoke. "He's been bugging me for a while now. About a week or two, I guess. First, I noticed him glaring at me and thought he was just having a bad day. But then he shoved me up against the wall in the stairwell and started telling me that I didn't belong, and calling me things like ‘hippie freak'." Blair glanced at Jim, noted the clenched jaw, and returned his eyes to the ceiling. Was his jaw clenched because he was angry with Baxter, or because he was realizing what a coward his guide really was? Blair couldn't bear to think about that right now, so he continued. "Then after another small incident today, I confronted him in the elevator and told him to leave me alone. He didn't seem to like that though, as you can see." Getting no response from Jim, other than the twitching of the man's jaw muscles, Blair asked tentatively, "Jim?"
The Sentinel looked at his guide, who was trying to stifle a yawn. "You need to rest now, Chief. Simon and I will take care of everything. You need anything before I go back to the station?"
"No, I'll be fine. That stuff the doctor gave me is making me real tired. I'll just catch some sleep."
"That's a good idea. I won't be gone too long, okay?"
"Mm-hm." Blair's eyes closed and he dropped immediately off to sleep.
* * *
Jim had called his captain while driving to the station, filling him in on Blair's story and condition. When he arrived in Simon's office, Baxter was already in there. At the sight of the man who had terrorized and hurt his partner, Jim felt his anger rise to an uncontrollable level. "You bastard." He started to walk quickly across the office toward Baxter, but Simon intercepted him.
"Jim." Banks stepped between the two men, placing a hand on Jim's shoulder.
But Jim didn't seem to hear his captain. "Why'd you do it?" he asked over Simon's shoulder.
"He deserved it," Baxter replied in a hateful voice.
"Son of a bitch!" Jim lurched forward, trying to get at the man.
"Jim!" Simon grabbed both of the detective's shoulders and forced him back. "Calm down." Still keeping hold of Jim, Simon spoke to another officer that was standing in the corner of the office. "O'Neill, take Baxter to the breakroom and wait for me." Baxter stood and followed O'Neill out of the office. Only then did Simon release his hold on Ellison.
"So, he admitted to it," Jim stated, his jaw so tight that Simon was worried the sentinel might hurt himself.
"It wasn't that hard to get it out of him. And besides, the shade of his black eye probably matches perfectly with the bruises on Sandburg's hand that you told me about."
Jim paced the floor by Simon's desk. "Why? Why Blair?"
The police captain sighed and sat down behind his desk. "Something about his only daughter leaving home and moving in with some guy that looks a bit like Blair. Baxter took it badly, and I guess he was using Sandburg to let out his anger."
Jim stopped pacing and sat down. "Let me talk to him, Captain."
"No way." Simon held up a hand. "It's not hard to see from the way you reacted when you saw him that talking is not what you have in mind." The look on Jim's face told Banks that he had been right in his assumption. "He's been suspended without pay. Internal Affairs and the DA will take it from here. There's a good chance he'll be kicked off the force. Don't worry, Jim, he's going to pay for what he's done. You can count on that. But for now, I want you to take tomorrow off. I don't want to see your face around here until Monday morning." When Jim started to protest, Simon stopped him. "That's an order, Ellison. Now, get back to the hospital. Blair needs you."
Jim was quiet for a moment. He really wanted to get his hands on Baxter but it was clear that wasn't going to happen. And Simon was right, he should be with Blair. Jim got up and stood near the door. "Thank, Simon."
The captain nodded. "Go on."
* * *
Blair had been home for a few hours now, all of which had been spent sleeping. But now, his last pain pill starting to wear off, he woke up and made his way out to the living room. Jim was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper, but he looked up as Blair emerged from his bedroom.
"Jim?" Blair came up beside the couch. "I was wondering. . . ."
"Wondering what, Chief?"
"Well, I know we really need to talk."
"Yes, we do," Jim agreed, then waited for Blair to continue.
"Yeah. So I was wondering if we could maybe try our camping trip again."
Jim looked at his friend. If Blair wanted to get away from everything so he could feel more comfortable when he opened up, that was fine by Jim. But if had hardly been twenty-four hours since Sandburg had been admitted to the hospital. "That would be fine, Chief, but are you sure you're up to the trip? It's nearly a three hour drive."
"I'll be okay, Jim. I'll take another pill and probably end up sleeping the whole way. But please, I really need to get away."
"Okay," Jim agreed. If Blair was offering to take medication, then this must be important to him. "You go pack some clothes and I'll get everything else in the truck. If we leave soon, we should be there in time to set up camp before dark."
Blair did sleep through the whole trip and then some. Jim left him in the truck and set up camp by himself. He pitched the tent and cooked some dinner over a small campfire before waking Sandburg. Opening the passenger's door, Jim shook Blair's arm gently. "Hey, Chief, time to wake up."
"Hmm?" Blair stirred and opened his eyes. "We're here?"
Jim laughed. "We've been here for a while, buddy. Dinner's ready."
"What? Oh, man, sorry about that, Jim." Blair slid slowly out of the truck, being careful not to make any unnecessary movements.
"That's okay, Chief. Just come and eat your dinner."
The sun was long gone by the time they were finished with dinner and Blair was starting to nod off again. Jim reached out and took the empty mug out of his guide's hands. "Time for you to go to bed, pal. Come on." He took Blair's arm and helped him up. "I'll be in once the fire's out."
"Okay. Goodnight, Jim." Blair crawled carefully into the tent.
"Goodnight, Chief." Jim moved back to the dying embers of the fire and sat drinking the last of his hot chocolate. Hopefully, by morning Blair would be awake enough to talk. Then they could sort everything out once and for all. Jim now knew about Baxter, but there was a lot more he wanted to know. Like why Blair hadn't come to Jim about it. That's what was bothering him the most. He wanted to believe that Blair trusted him enough to come to him about anything. But he hadn't come to Jim about Baxter, and so the sentinel wasn't sure what to believe.
Jim listened as his partner drifted off into a deep sleep and then headed into the tent himself, the fire safely put out. He crawled into his sleeping bag and found himself being lulled to sleep by Blair's deep breathing.
* * *
Jim stirred, raising his head. He realized what had woken him -- Blair had just left the tent. He listened for a moment, trying to figure out what Sandburg was up to. Hearing the younger man move down toward the river before stopping, Jim got up to follow him. Before he stepped out of the tent, he grabbed the spare blanket. It wasn't exactly a warm night. He found Blair down on the riverbank, sitting on a fallen tree trunk. Jim took a seat beside him, wrapping the blanket around Blair's shoulders. "Here you go, Chief. Wouldn't want you freeze."
"Thanks, Jim." Blair reached up and pulled the blanket more tightly around him. After a moment of silence, Blair quietly asked, "Are you ashamed of me, Jim? I need to know."
Jim was startled. Is that what this was about? Did Blair really think that Jim was ashamed of him? "No, Chief, of course I'm not ashamed of you. Why do you even have to ask that?"
"Because I'm a coward, because I couldn't stand up to Baxter." Blair was getting worked up.
"Easy, buddy." Jim tried to calm him. "You are not a coward."
"But -- "
"No buts. You're not a coward, you're brave. Being brave is doing things despite being scared and that's what you do all the time. You always come through for me when I need back- up, and you always come through for me as my Guide. I am most definitely not ashamed of you, Blair. I'm proud of you. Very proud."
Blair looked up at Jim. "Really? Do you mean that, Jim?"
"Yes, Chief, I really do."
"Thanks, man. That means a lot to me." Sandburg looked down at the ground. "But I still couldn't stand up to Baxter."
"That's not the way I remember it," Jim said.
"What?"
Jim reached over and lifted up Blair's right hand so the bruised knuckles were in plain view. "As I remember, Baxter has quite a shiner thanks to you."
Blair grinned. "Yeah, I guess he does. You know, I can't believe I didn't break my hand. That guy has one hard head.'
"Not half as hard as yours, Chief." Jim said affectionately and reached up to tousle Blair's hair.
Blair laughed and then smiled as Jim's arm came down to lie across his shoulders. "Thanks again, Jim. For everything."
"You're welcome, Chief. But there's one more thing."
"What's that?"
"I just wish that you trusted me enough to tell me about all this when it first started."
Sandburg looked at the ground again. "It wasn't because I didn't trust you, Jim. Not at all. I was just so worried that you'd be ashamed of me and I couldn't bear the thought of that."
"Blair, you're my partner, my guide, and my best friend. I could never be ashamed of you. I need you to know that."
Blair grinned up at Jim. "I know that now."
"Do you?"
"Yes, Jim, I do." Blair nodded.
Jim returned his friend's earlier smile. "Good, Chief. That's good to hear." He pulled Blair closer to him and they sat in companionable silence, watching the river flow through the night.
The End