New Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles

A Life for a Life
by Suzie

Summary: The brother of a man Jim had to shoot and kill seeks revenge.

Disclaimer: Some of the characters in this story belong to the UPN Network and Pet Fly Productions as part of the television show The Sentinel. I do not claim these characters as my own. No money has changed hands.

Authors Note: January 2000 ~ This was the *very first* TS fiction story I wrote. <G> At the time I hadn't been watching the show very long and didn't have all my facts straight (i.e. ~ I called Henri Brown 'Earl' <shrug> Don't ask, 'cause I don't know where I got 'Earl'. <G>), and I didn't have a beta reader.

A word is dead when it is said, some say.
I say it just begins to live that day.
~~ Emily Dickenson ~~

######

Jim entered the house, gun drawn and ready, with Blair on his heels. He would have preferred to leave his Guide with the truck out front, but he needed to focus on the single heartbeat that was inside. For some reason he was having trouble pinpointing where Evans was hiding. The heartbeat seemed to be echoing, bouncing off the walls. If Jim zoned out while inside alone, he'd be nothing more than a target. He needed Blair, his Guide, there to watch his back.

When they reached the hallway, Jim leaned close to Blair and whispered, "Wait here while I check the bedrooms."

Blair nodded nervously, stepping closer to the wall and wondering if he should have stayed outside. After all, Jim had given him the choice. But, Blair would go where Jim needed him. And the big guy had said he was having problems with this one.

The utility room was on his right and a step behind him, but the door was open and the small room had appeared empty when Jim checked it. There was a soft click as a concealed door opened. Blair didn't hear it, or the big man that reached for him from inside the utility room.

"JIM!" was all Blair managed to yell before he was thrown forcefully against the far wall of the room and fell to the floor.

Jim had heard a noise with his Sentinel hearing. It was like a cupboard opening. As he turned to go back out to the hallway he heard his partner yell his name, as a door slammed shut. Oh God! I missed him! Jim thought.

Blair was dazed, the breath knocked out of him after connecting hard with the wall. Evans grabbed him by the left wrist, pulling Blair to his feet. Holding the wrist in a crushing grip, Evans pushed Blair's arm, palm out, against the wall and up over his head. Blair looked up into wild eyes. A low, menacing, cheerless laugh escaped the sneering mouth. In an instant of realization, Blair screamed in pain as a knife went through his left hand and pinned it to the wall with a sickening thud.

At the same moment, Jim crashed through the utility room door. Evans released the young anthropologist, turned and charged the Detective, bellowing like a mad bull. Jim fired once, twice, then took a step back as the big man fell at his feet. Jim bent to check for a pulse, there was none.

"Jim," Blair's voice was a strained whisper, "I can't ..."

Jim looked up, noticing the knife for the first time. "Oh my God!" he gasped. "Hang on, Chief." He quickly stepped over the body on the floor and went to his partner.

Blair's face was deathly white. A slight trickle of blood ran down his arm from his wounded hand. He was fighting to stay conscious and on his feet. If he passed out with his hand pinned over his head ... well, Jim shuddered, he didn't want to think about what would happen. Jim grabbed the smaller man around the waist and lifted him slightly off the floor to take some of the pressure off the wounded hand. He had to work the knife free of wall without causing further damage to Blair's hand. Taking the handle in his right hand Jim carefully pulled, but there was no give at all. The blade was buried in a wall stud.

Blair rested his forehead on Jim's shoulder as he softly cried out from the pain. His right arm came up to grab the back of Jim's jacket. "Jim ... please!"

"Easy now," Jim whispered through gritted teeth. "I know it hurts." He pulled again, harder this time. There was a squeaking sound as the blade moved against the wooden stud. Jim felt Blair tense and whimper faintly. "Hang on, buddy." Straining, Jim kept pulling, trying to keep the blade straight to minimize the injury to Blair's hand. Then, with an ugly pop, the blade suddenly jerked free of the wall, forcing Jim back a couple steps. Blair pressed his face into Jim's shoulder and screamed as the knife slid out of his hand.

Jim lowered the limp, shaking body to the floor and knelt beside him. Removing his jacket, he covered Blair with it. Jim then pulled his T-shirt over his head and wrapped the injured man's now badly bleeding hand, and applied pressure to the wounds. "Hang on, partner. You're gonna be okay."

"It hurts," Blair whimpered softly, barely audible even to Sentinel hearing. A muscle spasm made his hand jerk in Jim's grip. Blair gasped and pushed at the immovable hand that held his. Tears were forming in his scared eyes.

"I know Chief." Jim said, knowing too that he was going into shock. "Hang on Blair, don't hold your breath, just keep breathing." Jim pulled the radio from his back pocket with his free hand, "Captain, this is Ellison. We found Evans. Get the medics over to the house on 84th."

Static crackled for a second before he heard Captain Simon Banks' voice, "Jim, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Captain."

"Is Sandburg all right?"

"No Simon," Jim answered, looking down at the pale and trembling young man. "No he's not."

"What about Evans?"

Anger welled inside Jim's chest, "He's dead sir."

"Understood. We're on our way Jim."

Blair had closed his eyes, he was cold from shock and blood loss. With a great deal of effort, Jim pushed the anger away. He did not want his friend to misinterpret it. Touching Blair's cold, clammy cheek, Jim said, "Hey Blair, open your eyes." He listened as Blair's heart thundered wildly. "C'mon ... stay awake for me."

Blair's eyes opened slowly, reluctantly. "It hurts so bad."

Jim pressed his hand gently to Blair's forehead, "Just keep breathin', buddy. You're going to be all right."

Blair swallowed hard, his body racked with tremors. He moved his head to one side and saw Karl Evans' body behind Jim.

Moving to block his view, Jim said, "He's dead Blair. He won't be hurting anyone ever again." He heard cars and sirens outside, "Help's here now, you're gonna be okay."

The paramedics wrapped Blair's injured hand and started an IV in the other. Still in shock, fading in and out of consciousness, he was loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled out to the ambulance. Jim started to follow when Captain Banks called him back to the utility room.

"I was going to go to the hospital sir," Jim said as he reentered the room.

"Yeah, I know. This will only take a minute Jim," the Captain said, knowing the man's concern for his young friend. "I want you to see this."

Jim followed him to the concealed door that was now standing open.

"You said that Evans' heartbeat was like an echo?" Simon asked.

Jim nodded, "Yes, like it was bouncing around the house or something."

"One of the officers spotted this door opened a crack. Would never have noticed it if it were closed completely."

Jim looked around the large cabinet, "It's metal, Evans must have been in here when I checked this room."

Simon pointed to an air vent in the wall near the ceiling, "I bet that connects to the vents in the rest of the house."

"No wonder I was hearing echoes and couldn't pinpoint where he was."

Simon nodded, "Don't know what the previous owner hid in here, but it was well concealed."

Jim's eyes narrowed as the anger wormed up through him again.

Simon recognized the look that slid into place on the Detective's face. "Go be with your partner Jim. I'll see you there soon."

**********

Karl Evans had one hand around Blair's throat as he lifted him into the air. As Blair struggled to breathe, he saw the knife in the man's other hand. With one quick movement the blade flashed up, rising unnaturally high above them. Blair tried to scream, but could only manage gagging sounds. He beat desperately on the meaty hand that held him by the throat, but Evans only laughed that low, malicious laugh. The knife plunged down, towards Blair's chest.

Jim and Simon had been talking in the hall just outside the door when they heard the terrified scream, followed by a thump. They burst into the hospital room to find Blair on the floor. Jim rushed to him as the younger man got to his knees, shaking visibly. Simon went to find the nurse.

"Jim?!" Blair gasped, still groggy and unsure. "OhmyGod!"

"It's okay Blair," Jim soothed as he knelt in front of his partner, holding him by the shoulders. "Just sit still a minute."

Leaning his head against Jim's chest Blair cried, "I thought I was dead." He pulled his throbbing hand up close to his chest and sobbed, "It hurts so much."

"I know Chief, but you're all right now," Jim said as he gently rubbed Blair's back. "It was just a dream ... a nightmare."

Doctor Kelly and a nurse hurried into the room. Simon held the door open for a moment, as if making sure Blair was still alive, then let it glide closed and waited in the hall.

"He had a nightmare ... fell out of bed," Jim told the doctor as he knelt down next to them.

Blair straightened up so Jim could stand to let Doctor Kelly and the nurse take over.

"You might want to wait in the hall Detective," the nurse said quietly.

"No! Please, Jim ..." Blair blurted out before he could stop himself.

Jim felt something twist in his chest as he looked into his friend's desperate eyes, "I'm not going anywhere Blair."

Blair managed a small, embarrassed smile as he was checked over for new injuries. Then Jim stepped in to help get him back into bed, as the nurse left to get something that would calm Blair down and rid him of the pain. Jim moved to stand on the opposite side of the bed from the doctor, his hand automatically going to grip his Guide's shoulder protectively.

"You're lucky you didn't break your neck," Doctor Kelly scolded gently as he examined the bandaged hand further.

Blair stared down at his lap, "Sorry. I thought someone was going to kill me and I ..." His voice trailed off.

"Tried to get away?" Doctor Kelly smiled with understanding.

Blair nodded, embarrassed, as the doctor moved his fingers. He winced, trying to pull away, "Ow ... ow, man!"

Jim gave Blair's shoulder a light squeeze as he quietly said, "It happens, nothing to be embarrassed about."

Blair slowly looked up at his friend and gave a slight nod. Where were you when I was growing up?

Doctor Kelly was satisfied that Blair hadn't further damaged his injured left hand. "It's just a good thing we took the IV out this morning," he smiled as he shook his head. "Or you'd have stitches in both hands."

Blair lay down against the pillows, "How long have I been here?" A spasm went through his hand, "Sssst ... damn." He cradled his injured hand in his right arm.

"About 18 hours now."

The nurse returned with a needle. "All right," she smiled. "This should make you feel better."

Jim stepped around the bed to stand with Doctor Kelly as the nurse administered the shot in Blair's hip. Then Blair brought the bed up so he was sitting comfortably.

"We did some surgery to repair the damage. It was an act of God that the knife went in at an angle that let it slip between the bones, so nothing was broken," Doctor Kelly explained. "It'll take time, and it is a little early to tell for sure, but I don't think there's any permanent damage."

"When can I go home?" Blair asked.

"If you don't take anymore dives off the bed ... tomorrow afternoon."

After Doctor Kelly and the nurse left the room, Jim stepped back over to Blair's side, "You gonna be okay tonight? I can stay ... if you want."

Blair yawned, already getting pleasantly groggy, "Thanks Jim, but I'll be all right. Go home ..." He yawned again, "Get some rest."

"Okay, I'll be back soon as I can tomorrow. Call if you need anything."

Simon stepped in, "Hey Blair, how you feeling?"

"No pain, man." Blair's grin was a little dopey.

"Great," he chuckled, genuine relief in his voice. "Jim, let's go. He needs to rest."

"Make sure he gets some sleep before he comes back here Simon ... Okay?"

"I'll take care of it kid. Get some rest."

Jim gave the younger man a pat on the shoulder, smiling affectionately, "See you tomorrow."

Blair's eyes closed, asleep before the door shut behind the two men.

**********

When Jim arrived at the hospital the next day around noon, Nurse Johnston stopped him before he made it to Blair's room.

"He was restless all night despite the medication," Nurse Johnston explained. "And he barely touched his breakfast, and refused lunch saying he'd eat when he got home." Then she smiled slightly, "I gave him a shot not ten minutes ago that should get him home in reasonable comfort."

"He'll be fine once he's home," Jim stated knowingly. "He just hates being here, and he especially dislikes hospital food."

"It's not unusual, but I just wanted you to be aware of it. Now, go help him dress while I finish the paperwork and fill his prescription."

Jim thanked her, then proceeded to Blair's room. "Hey Chief, ready to go home?" He grinned at the solemn look his friend wore as he walked in.

Blair's face immediately brightened upon seeing his older friend, "Yeah man, thought you'd never get here."

"Sorry, got hung up at the station this morning." Jim set the gym bag he'd carried with him on the foot of the bed, "Brought you some clothes."

Thoughtfully, Jim had brought sweatpants. Blair had wondered how he would ask for help getting his pants zipped.

After getting the sweatpants pulled up with little problem, he let Jim help get the T-shirt on over his bandaged hand. "Jim man, is this your shirt?" Blair said when he noticed how loose it fit.

Chuckling at the sight, Jim said, "No, I stopped and picked up a few extra-larges on the way here. Thought they'd be easier to get on over the bandages." He adjusted the sling carefully around Blair's right arm.

"Oh ... thanks. Remind me to pay ya back for 'em," Blair said as he slid back up on the bed while Jim found his socks and shoes.

Nurse Johnston came in with a wheelchair and the release papers to be signed so they could go home. She handed Jim the bottle of pain medication. He quickly read the label before putting it in his pocket.

Blair was asleep in the truck before they were out of the hospital parking lot; thanks to the pain medication he'd gotten before leaving, and slept the entire trip home. Jim had to keep a tight grip on Blair as he leaned heavily against him, and nearly had to carry the smaller man up the stairs to the loft. Exhaustion and drugs were taking their toll, but now they were home and Jim knew Blair would be able to relax. After removing the sling, Jim gently lowered the sleeping man against the pillows. A small sigh from him reminded Jim just how much he'd grown to like and depend on this young man he called his friend, his Guide, his partner. Untying the sneakers, pulling them and his socks off, Jim decided to let Blair sleep in the sweats and T-shirt. He pulled the blanket up around Blair's shoulders, retrieved a pillow from the living room to elevate the bandaged hand and arm, then closed the bedroom door as he quietly left the room.

**********

It was around 7pm, and Jim was watching the news on TV when he heard the sound of something hitting the floor in Blair's room. This was followed by a muffled cry of pain. Jim hurried across the loft to the bedroom to see Blair trying to pull himself off the floor using the bed for support.

"Whoa Chief." Jim gently eased his Guide up to sit on the edge of the bed. "What happened? Another nightmare?"

Blair took a deep breath and sighed, pushing the hair out of his face, "N-no, just needed to get up. Got dizzy when I stood." His face was a bit pale and he was shaking.

"You okay now?" Jim asked. Concern edged his voice as he stood next to him with one hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah ... okay now," Blair answered, trying to smile.

He tried standing again, slowly, and Jim held his arm to steady him, "Where to Chief?"

"Bathroom," Blair replied, not protesting the support. "Thanks Jim."

As Blair entered the bathroom and turned to close the door Jim said, "Don't lock it."

Blair nodded.

Jim went to the kitchen, but kept his hearing open ... just in case. He put water in a large saucepan and set it on the stove to boil. A minute later the toilet flushed and the water in the sink came on. When the water on the stove began to boil, Jim opened the package of soup and added it to the water.

When Blair emerged from the bathroom, he walked slowly back to his room and retrieved the sling. He adjusted it as he walked toward Jim, who was setting a steaming bowl of soup on the table.

"Come and eat," Jim said.

Blair stopped at the table, "Thanks, but I'm not really hungry."

"I didn't ask if you were hungry ... sit."

Blair reached out for the back of the chair and it seemed to move away from him. In fact, everything in the room started moving, and then his ears started ringing. Jim noticed the remaining color drain from his roommate's already pale face, and moved quickly to catch the crumbling figure.

"Hang on Chief," Jim said as he set the limp form in the chair at the table. "Easy now."

Blair looked at Jim, his head still swimming slightly, "What happened?"

"You passed out for a second." Jim reached for the large glass of orange juice he'd set on the table for Blair and held it to his lips, "Here ... take a sip."

The young man took several small sips before reaching a shaking hand up for the glass, "Thanks Jim, sorry about that." He continued to sip the juice as Jim moved to sit at the place next to him.

"Don't worry about it, you just need to get something in your stomach. The nurse said you'd barely touched your food."

"Hospital food? Can you blame me?"

Jim only smiled, shaking his head. Good to have you home, buddy.

Once he started eating, Blair realized how really hungry he was. After devouring two bowls of soup and a second glass of juice, his color was better and the shakes were gone.

**********

Two days later.

Jim had just gotten home from work and was up in his room changing. Blair was in the kitchen making an attempt at starting dinner, when the phone rang. The cordless was on the counter in front of him.

"Hello?" Blair said into the receiver.

Silence.

"Hello? Anyone there?"

Jim moved to the top of the stairs as he pulled on a T-shirt. He was thinking about using his Sentinel hearing to try to hear who was on the phone, when Blair gasped and dropped the receiver. Taking a quick step backwards as if to get farther away from the fallen phone, Blair bumped into the refrigerator.

"Blair?!" Jim called as he took the stairs down two at a time in his rush to get to the kitchen.

Blair's eyes were wide and staring, his face flushed. Jim grabbed the phone off the floor as he moved to stand beside Blair, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder. The kid was close to hyperventilating.

"Who is this?!" Jim demanded angrily into the receiver.

There was silence for a second. Then a low chuckling laugh could be heard just before the line went dead.

"Shit," Jim said under his breath as he clicked the phone off. He looked down at Blair, "Who the hell was that?"

Blair didn't answer. Jim set the phone on the counter and pulled Blair around gently by the shoulders to face him. He looked up at Jim with wide, frightened eyes. His shaking right hand came up to grasp Jim's wrist, as if to make sure he was really there, and tried to calm himself.

"Hey Chief." Jim's tone was calm, quiet. "What's goin' on?"

Blair was still breathing a little fast, but was trying to gain control, "E-Evans ... OhmyGod."

Keeping one hand on Blair's shoulder, Jim Guided him to the sofa and gently pushed him down, "Take it easy Blair. Tell me what he said." He sat on the coffee table facing the trembling man.

Willing himself to calm down, Blair took several deep controlled breaths. "It was Evans' voice man. He said, 'It's your fault, and now you're going to die too.'"

Jim frowned, it couldn't have been Evans. He had killed him. "Blair, you know there's no way it could've been Karl Evans. I shot him ... twice. He's dead. There's been an autopsy."

Blair wrapped his arms around himself, "I know Jim," he said slowly. He was starting to calm down more now. "But, that ... was his voice man." Blair looked at his friend, He has to believe me, "Jim ... I ..."

"It's okay buddy, I believe you." Jim stood and began to pace the room. "Who ever that was ..."

At that moment the phone rang. Blair jumped. Jim automatically started towards the kitchen to pick it up, then stopped himself. Instead, he let the answering machine pick it up. He focused his hearing on the machine and voice.

"It's your fault," a voice said calmly, too calmly. "A life for a life sounds like a fair trade to me."

That low, menacing laugh, then a click and a dial tone. Jim caught Blair's shudder from the corner of his eye. It did sound something like Karl Evans, but not quite.

Jim turned to look Blair in the eye, "Close, but not exact."

Blair looked up at him questioningly.

"That was not Karl Evans."

"You could really tell?" Blair asked, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

Jim nodded, "Yeah, little differences in the tone."

"Then ... who? Why?!"

"I don't know Chief," Jim popped the tape out of the answering machine and put it in his pocket. "I'll check into it in the morning."

"You're going to tell Simon, aren't you?" Blair said, starring at the floor.

"I think he should know, Chief."

Blair just nodded, knowing Jim knew best on things like this.

**********

1pm the next afternoon.

Jim answered the phone on his desk, "Ellison."

"Hey Jim, it's me," Blair said, hoping the nervousness he felt didn't show in his voice. "Could you ... um ... come get me? I'm at the university."

"What the hell are you doing there? You're suppose to be home resting. You've only been out of the hospital a few days."

"I remembered some papers that need to be graded. It was a good reason to get out. Get some fresh air ... ya know?"

"Yeah," Jim smiled. "So, what's up with your car? It die again?"

"Well ... something like that ... I guess," Blair's voice started to tremble just enough for the Sentinel to notice.

The smile fell quickly from Jim's face. The kid sounded scared. "Are you okay Chief? What happened?"

Hesitating for a second, Blair wasn't sure how to explain it, wasn't sure he wanted to. Then the words just tumbled out in a rush, "Someone trashed my car, man! Slashed the tires! All the windows are smashed!"

There was an edge of hysteria in Blair's voice that worried Jim, "Okay, calm down Chief. Where are you calling from?"

"I locked myself in my office. Jim, I'm scared. It's Saturday, no one's here today. I even tried security, but no one answered."

"Stay put, and don't let anyone in until I get there. I'm on my way."

Blair hung up the phone only after he heard Jim hang up. He ran his shaking right hand through his long, curly hair and sat down at his desk to wait. If Jim comes with lights and sirens, it won't take him thirty minutes to get here. The phone rang, startling him. Blair grabbed it on the second ring, "Jim?"

"Not hardly little man," an all too familiar voice said. "A life for a life."

Blair slammed the phone down, "No! Please, no!"

The phone rang again.

"Leave ... Me ... Alone!" Blair said into the receiver, trying his best to sound calm and in control. Then slammed it down again.

It rang again. If I don't answer it, he'll go away, Blair thought urgently. But, it continued to ring ... twelve ... thirteen ...

fourteen ... fifteen. His hand shook as he picked it up and set it on the desk without a word.

The voice said loudly, as if knowing what Blair had done, "Don't try to ignore me little man! I won't go away!"

Blair carefully set the receiver back in its cradle. Not a second later it rang again. This time, Blair disconnected the cord from the back of the phone. With a relieved sigh he sank back into the chair, whispering, "Hurry Jim."

Another phone started ringing. Blair's breath caught in his throat and he tensed at the sound. There was only one phone in his office. Blindly, he followed the ringing to a shelf across the room. He stumbled, banging his injured left hand on a file cabinet as he reached for the phone, but didn't notice it. Grabbing the phone off the shelf, Blair ripped the cord from the wall and dropped it to the floor. Then he felt the burning pain shoot through his hand and fell to his knees. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest as tears began to streak down his face.

A minute later another phone started ringing. Where? Oh God, now what? Wait ... his cell phone was in his jacket. It had to be Jim! Blair went back to his desk where his jacket was. He fumbled through the pockets until he found the small phone. "Jim?" he asked tentatively.

"I'm not going away."

"NO!" Blair screamed and threw the cell phone across the room, where it shattered against the wall next to the door. "No!"

**********

It had taken Jim nearly a full hour to get to the university. Traffic was a mess due to an accident that he couldn't get around. He had tried to call Blair to reassure him, but couldn't get through. When Jim finally roared into the parking lot in front of the building where his partner would be, he saw the Corvair. It looked as if it had been in some horrible accident. Anger and concern flared inside him.

Entering the building, Jim stopped just inside the door to listen. He didn't need Sentinel hearing to pick up the sound of telephones ringing. Every phone in the building must have been ringing. When he focused his hearing, pushing the ringing away, he could hear Blair's thundering heartbeat, but no others. Taking the steps down, Jim jogged down the hallway toward the anthropologist's office. As he passed by several intercom speakers along the way, he realized that most of the sounds of ringing phones were coming from them.

"What the hell's going on here?!" Jim said out loud. He stopped in front of Blair's office. The door was locked. "Blair, open up. It's Jim."

"Go away!" Blair shouted hysterically. "Leave me alone!"

"What the ..." Jim could hear the shear panic in that voice. "Blair! Dammit Chief, open up!"

There was a click above Jim's head, and looking up he saw another speaker. The sound of more phones ringing started, loudly adding to the din throughout the building and forcing Jim to turn his hearing down a notch. At the same time he heard Blair's terrified screams. Desperation ripped through the big man. Holding his gun at the ready, Jim kicked the door in.

Quickly scanning the small office, Jim looked for Blair. Not seeing his Guide, he took a step farther inside and his foot crunched down on something. Jim looked down to see the scattered pieces of the cell phone. "Blair? Where are you?"

A small voice whimpered from a corner across the room, behind some storage shelves, "No, leave me alone. Please ... God ... no more."

Jim found Blair curled up on the floor, his arms covering his head. Convinced there was no one else in the room, Jim holstered his gun as he rushed to his friend. He knelt and took the smaller man by the upper arms to pull him up to a sitting position. Blair began struggling against the strong hands that held him.

"Easy buddy. Take it easy," Jim said gently, not letting go. "It's okay now, Blair. It's me ... Jim."

Stopping abruptly, finally registering the familiar voice, Blair blinked several times. He was shaking uncontrollably and crying. "Jim? It's you?"

"Yeah Chief, it's me," Jim said, still holding Blair's arms. "What's going on?"

Suddenly, Blair lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Jim's chest, nearly knocking the bigger man backwards. Jim wrapped him tightly in an embrace and stroked up and down Blair's back. The heaving sobs and tears that were soaking into Jim's shirt tore at his heart.

"Jim, make the ringing stop! Please ...," Blair cried into Jim's broad shoulder.

"Hang on Chief," Jim said as he pulled the trembling man up. Locking one arm around Blair, and encouraging the smaller man not to let go of him, Jim half carried Blair out of the building to the truck.

The further away from the university Jim drove, the calmer Blair became. By the time they'd reached home, his tears were occasional sniffles and his heart rate was becoming normal. But, he was still shaking. His hand was throbbing badly too. During the drive home Jim had asked only once about what had happened, but his partner had simply shook his head, not wanting to speak. Jim didn't want to push the issue.

Once inside the loft Blair felt safe. Exhausted, but safe. He walked straight to his room and lay down on his bed. Jim closed and locked the door, watching Blair head toward his bedroom. He didn't close the door, Jim thought when he heard the soft creak of the bed. He isn't shutting the world out ... yet.

Getting a glass of water and one of the pain pills from the prescription Blair had gotten days earlier, Jim stepped into the small bedroom. Blair was lying on his back, right arm thrown across his face.

Jim sat on the edge of the bed. "Blair?"

No answer.

"Hey ... sit up ... take this."

Finally, Blair moved his arm to look at Jim. Slowly, he sat up, leaning back against the headboard, and took the pill, swallowing it with the offered water. "Thanks, Jim."

"No problem Chief, wanna tell me what happened now?"

"No, not really," Blair sighed. He noted Jim's worried face and said, "But I suppose I should, huh?"

Jim smiled, ever so slightly, "I think it'd be a real good idea."

Slowly, Blair related the afternoon's events. "... He even has my cell number, man." With a flash of remembrance at the look on Jim's face, Blair grimaced, "Guess I'll have to buy a new cell phone."

"It sounded like every phone in the building was ringing," Jim said. "Phones were blasting on the intercom system, too."

Blair turned to stare at the wall, "Suppose that's why it was so loud. Guess I kinda lost it then ... had a panic attack." He took a deep, shuddering breath before turning to look up at his blessed protector, "Then you were ... just ... there."

The phone extension on the little table next to the bed rang. Blair had to fight the urge to climb the wall, terror filling his eyes.

Jim patted Blair's knee, "Take it easy." Then reached for the receiver. "Ellison."

It was Captain Banks, "What the hell's going on, Jim?!"

"Sir?" Jim questioned.

"I come back from a meeting and someone tells me you got a phone call from Sandburg, then ran out of here like ... like ... I don't know!" Anger and concern vied for the voice. "After that call you had last night, I ..."

Jim interrupted, "Yeah, well, it happened again Simon, at Blair's office this time."

Realizing who Jim was talking to, Blair relaxed again. He was glad Jim wasn't going into any details to the Captain. He knew Simon would need to know, but he really didn't need to hear it again right away. Sliding down on the bed, Blair put his head on the pillow. Jim's voice, his presence, was enough to make him feel safe.

"Is the kid all right?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, he's doing okay," Jim replied.

Simon knew it was a lie. He figured Blair was probably sitting right there, and Jim didn't want to say anything. "I've got some information you two should know about. I'll explain when I get there."

"Okay, Simon, but what is it?" Jim asked.

"When I get there, Jim." The Captain hung up.

Jim hung the receiver up, and looked down at Blair's sleeping form. He gently pushed a stray bit of hair out of Blair's face and thought how small he looked, how vulnerable he was. When did this man become a little brother? Jim hated it when people used his friend. He hated it more when they hurt him. Standing, Jim untied and removed Blair's shoes, then pulled the blanket over the sleeping young man. Disconnecting the extension and taking it along, Jim left the room, closing the door behind him.

**********

Nearly two hours passed before Jim heard the familiar footsteps approaching the door, and the smell of Simon's ever-present cigar. He opened the door as the Captain reached up to knock.

"Sorry I took so long," Simon said as he hung his coat on one of the hooks by the door. He glanced around the loft, "Where's Blair?"

"He's asleep," Jim said as he went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "Want a beer?"

"Yeah sure, thanks." Simon walked to the big windows in living room, "I think he should hear this too Jim."

Walking in from the kitchen, Jim sat down in the middle of the sofa as Simon turned, "Before I wake Blair, I want to tell you what he told me happened."

Simon took the beer offered to him and sat in the chair that faced the sofa. Jim started with Blair's call to him at the station, then the trashed car, ringing telephones ... everything.

"God Jim," Simon said when Jim was finished. "This may be worse than I thought."

Remembering Blair's terrified screams made Jim's anger surge, his grip on the bottle so tight his knuckles turned white and his hands shook. "Who ever this wacko is ..."

"It's his brother."

Jim looked a little taken back at the Captain's statement, "What?!"

"Karl Evans has a brother ... Daniel. Got out of prison in Texas six months ago after doing twenty-five years for attempted murder and assault."

"You're sure it's him?"

"No ... actually it's a guess," Simon sighed, draining the last of his beer. "Daniel dropped out of sight the day after Karl's death. Texas authorities are looking for him."

Jim's head fell back against the sofa cushion, "Shit!"

"Jim?" Blair's quiet voice startled both men. "What's goin' on?"

Turning to face him, Jim noticed a haunted look on his partner's tired face. He walked over to Blair, who was standing in the doorway of his room. "You okay Chief?"

"Had a dream ...," Blair shrugged, not wanting to finish the sentence.

Jim gave his shoulder a light squeeze of reassurance, "Hungry?"

Blair just nodded, not fully awake yet.

"After dinner we'll wrap your hand in plastic so you can take a shower, okay?"

Running a hand through his hair Blair said, "Thanks Jim, I could use it." Then he headed for the bathroom.

When he came out, Jim was in the kitchen and Simon was just getting off the phone in the living room. Jim thought he looked a little better. Less spooked, more awake.

"Hey Sandburg," Simon stood as Blair walked towards him. "How's the hand doing?"

"Hey Captain," Blair tried to smile. "It's doing okay, thanks. So long as I don't hit it on anything." He plopped down on the sofa.

Simon moved to stare out over the darkening bay.

"So ... umm ... did Jim tell you about this afternoon?" Blair asked, hoping he wouldn't have to.

Simon nodded without turning around, "Yes he did. I've sent some people over there to check out the building and your office." He turned and watched the young man closely. "Your car's being taken to the impound lot at the station."

Blair closed his eyes and shivered at the memory. "So, you find out anything yet Simon?"

Simon didn't answer and wasn't sure he wanted to. He wasn't sure how the kid would handle finding out there was another one out there just like Karl Evans, maybe worse. Jim kept an eye on things from the kitchen.

"Simon, what is it?" Blair asked, suddenly feeling like he should be ready to panic again.

"Evans' brother, Daniel," Simon let out a long sigh. "We believe he's the one harassing you and Jim."

Blair turned to look at Jim, "Have you been getting calls, too?"

Jim shook his head, "No, not yet."

Simon continued, "Well, let's face it. By harassing Sandburg, he's harassing you, Jim."

Blair chewed his bottom lip as he stared at Jim.

Jim recognized the look, "Don't start blaming yourself Chief. We were both there."

"Daniel Evans would naturally pick you to use against Jim," Simon broke in. "He wouldn't take a chance with someone who could possibly beat him." Wrong choice of words, Simon thought when he saw Blair's shoulders slump slightly. "Look, if he decides to actually confront one of you ... who would be easier to subdue? Jim's his physical equal, and though we both know you can defend yourself, you are handicapped with an injury."

Blair turned back to face Simon, "But you're not absolutely sure it is Daniel Evans? It could be some other head case out to get me?"

"No, we're not positive it's Daniel ... yet, but the evidence is pointing strongly in that direction."

"And," Jim chimed in from the kitchen. "As far as the possibility of it being some other 'head case', it just depends on who you've pissed off in the past month or so."

Simon chuckled at the obvious joke, and Blair did manage a good natured smile. Jim just wanted to ease the tension a bit, and Blair was glad for the big guy's patience as much as his presence.

"So, now what?" Blair asked, relaxing back into the sofa a little.

The phone on the table between the sofa and loveseat rang, sending Blair scrambling to the other end of the sofa. Jim hurried from the kitchen, wiping his hands with a towel, and grabbed the phone. Simon had moved to sit next to Blair, putting himself between the frightened man and the telephone.

"Settle down, nothing's going to happen with us here with you," Simon told him gently, putting a hand on the other man's arm. "It's okay."

"Ellison," Jim said angrily into the receiver, keeping his eyes on Blair.

"How's your little friend tonight?" the voice said. "I imagine he'd pretty worn out after our little game today."

Jim fought to keep the rage he was feeling from being heard in his voice, "What is it you want ... Daniel?"

There was a quiet, surprised gasp on the other end of the line. Jim's face broke into a wicked grin and he nodded to Simon and Blair.

A low, insane sounding chuckle, "Good work Detective." The line was disconnected.

Jim clicked the cordless off and set it down, "I'd say it's definitely Daniel Evans. He seemed a little surprised when I used his name."

Blair looked from Jim to Simon, feeling the heat rise in his face. God, they must think I'm some kind of wuss! "Sorry guys, guess I'm still ..."

Simon put up a hand to stop the young man, "No Blair! You've been through a hell of an experience. There is absolutely nothing to apologize for."

The look on Jim's face echoed the Captain's sentiments. Jim was glad the words had come from Simon, though. It meant a lot to the kid to know that people cared. Simon refused to admit it, but he did like the young man who was Jim's Guide and friend. He was even growing to respect and accept him more as Jim's partner.

"Thanks," Blair mumbled gratefully, but still feeling embarrassed.

Dinner was soon ready and served. Jim and Simon did the majority of the talking. Blair was quiet, lost in his own thoughts, pushing the food around his plate. He didn't even notice when the other two had stopped talking and were looking at him.

"Hey Chief," Jim finally said. Concern was evident in his eyes and voice. "You have to eat something or you're gonna make yourself sick. Don't worry ... we'll get him."

"Huh?" Blair was shaken out of his thoughts to see Jim and Simon staring at him. "Oh ... no ... it's not that," he smiled sheepishly.

"Well spit it out Sandburg. Let's hear it," Simon said before taking a bite of his dinner.

Blair sighed and set down his fork, "Well ... after what happened this afternoon. I completely forgot about the papers I was going to bring home to grade."

"Figures," Jim grinned.

"Well, I have to do something. I can't just sit around wondering if I'm going to have a panic attack every time the damn phone rings." He glanced from Jim to Simon, then down at his plate. "I just don't want to go back there alone."

"Don't worry about that," Simon said. "You won't be going anywhere alone for a while."

Jim nodded his agreement and added, "We'll go tomorrow and get those papers."

**********

It wasn't long before the stitches were removed from Blair's left hand, and he began physical therapy to build the strength and flexibility back up. He started going back to work at the university, but Jim or another officer was always with him. Blair didn't mind having someone around, he wasn't real fond of the idea of being alone anywhere just yet. It was days before he was able to force himself to answer the phone in his office, but he still jumped every time any phone rang. Jim wouldn't let him answer the phone at the loft, and if Jim couldn't answer it, the machine did. Blair hadn't missed the extension in his room.

Six weeks and no calls from Daniel Evans. Nothing happened, but Jim and Simon were not so sure this was a good thing. Neither man believed Evans wasn't out there, somewhere, watching.

"Maybe I screwed up by letting Evans know we knew he's the one doing it," Jim told Simon as they sat in the Captain's office one day. "Damn! I was just so angry ... I didn't think!"

Simon felt frustrated as well, but didn't blame anyone except Evans. "Look Jim, there's no way to know that one way or the other. Unless you've developed ESP along with that Sentinel stuff of yours, all we can do is wait for the other shoe to drop."

"Yeah, but what if it drops on Sandburg? I'm not sure he can handle another go 'round. Last night's the first time he's slept without nightmares since this started."

"You're treating him like he's your kid brother instead of your partner. He's stronger than you give him credit for Jim. He never would've made it this far with you if he weren't. Blair's never alone. He's as safe as we can make him right now without putting him in a holding cell."

Jim smiled, "A kid brother, huh?" That's what he's become to me, Jim nodded resolutely, knowing Simon was right. Then looked at his watch as he stood, "Look, I told Blair I'd take him to the physical therapist this afternoon. Especially since I couldn't take him last week. I'd better get going."

"Hey, how's the kid doing anyway?"

"Real good, actually. A few more weeks and they'll turn him loose. Both the therapist and the doctors say he should get full use back."

"Great! That's good news," Simon said, genuinely glad to hear it.

"See ya in the morning, Simon."

**********

Jim walked into Blair's office. He was hunched over some papers on his desk. Officer Carson was there, as he always was when Jim couldn't be.

"Hey Chief," Jim said cheerfully. "Ready to go?"

"Huh?" Blair looked up, momentarily confused. "Oh ... yeah ... one sec, man." He'd been concentrating on his work and hadn't even heard Jim and Carson say hello to one another. "Sorry, wasn't watching the clock."

"S'okay, we've got plenty of time."

Officer Daryl Carson always sat facing the door and was looking up from his book when the Detective walked in. He was a pleasant man in his 40s. He got on well with Blair, and didn't mind sitting around the kid's office or following him to classes and lectures. Most importantly, Jim trusted Officer Carson to look after his friend when he couldn't be there to do it himself.

"So Carson, how's the book?" Jim asked.

"Great Detective, should have it finished tonight," Carson grinned as he put on his jacket. "I've had this one sitting around for nearly a year. Don't normally have the time to enjoy a book. Usually, by the time I get to the end, I can't remember the beginning."

Blair zipped up his backpack, "Okay, all ready." He turned to Officer Carson, "I won't need to be back here until Monday, Daryl."

"Guess that means I spend a couple days at the station catching up on paperwork."

The three stepped out into the hall and Blair closed the door, pulling his keys from his coat pocket so he could lock up.

"See you two Monday morning," Carson said as he walked toward the exit.

"Yeah, see ya," Blair said as he turned the key in the lock.

"Take it easy," Jim called. "Hey, did you call the insurance company about your car yet?" he asked Blair as they started out.

Blair laughed, "Yeah, they've got someone lookin' at it. They say it isn't totaled though. Tires, windows, windshield, minor body work." He sighed, "Even with the insurance it's gonna cost a bundle. I'm not sure it's worth it."

Jim slapped him lightly on the back, "Don't worry about it, Chief. We'll work it out."

**********

Blair entered the waiting room looking more pained and tired than he usually did after each visit.

Standing, Jim put the magazine down, "You okay Chief?"

Blair smiled ... or was it a grimace, "Yeah, good session."

The therapist stepped into the room. "We started some new exercises today," she told Jim with a bright smile. Putting an arm around Blair's shoulders, "Ice for the pain and swelling. Pain pill only if it's really necessary, continue with your daily routine, and I'll see you next Wednesday." Patting him lightly on the back, she added, "You're making excellent progress Blair, you're more than on schedule."

"Great. Thanks."

"Thank you Kathy," Jim smiled at the middle-aged woman. "See you next week."

Back at the loft, Jim directed Blair to sit at the table while he got ice and two beers. Since the weekly visits for physical therapy began, this had become a ritual of sorts. Ice for the hand, beer, but only if Blair promised not to take a pain pill, a little talk, and dinner.

God, I missed this last week, Jim thought. Sandwiching Blair's hand between the two bags of ice, then wrapping a towel around it all to hold them in place, Jim noticed the worn look on his roommate's face. He opened both bottles of beer, put one in front of the younger man, and sat down at the table facing him with the other. "You've been kind of quiet ever since I picked you up this afternoon," Jim started. "Hard day at the office, or still bummed about your car?"

Blair took a swig of beer before answering. "A little of both, I guess. Did a lecture first thing this morning. Still playing catch up on some paperwork, plus Professor Tanner's going on vacation and left me with his testing and class schedule for the next two weeks." Another swallow of beer. "I was trying to sort through a few notes of my own when you got there. Would've forgotten about lunch if Daryl hadn't been there. Guess I'm just a little tired."

Jim smiled, knowing his friend's study and work habits, "Been sleeping okay?"

"Yeah ... well, I slept good last night." Like you don't already know, Blair smiled. "I still have those flashes, ya know? Like memories, but I'm not really sure that's what they are." He looked at Jim, who was listening intently, and sighed, "I still don't remember much of what happened that day. I see myself going in the house, but nothing much after that."

With any luck you'll never remember that day, Jim thought to himself.

"Anyway, how was your day?" Blair asked, hoping nothing too exciting happened since he couldn't be there.

"The Milland case is going nowhere right now," Jim shrugged. "Paperwork mostly. You know how I love doing paperwork."

Blair chuckled.

Jim grinned as he saw his partner's spirits lift. He drained his beer, then asked, "You going in with me tomorrow and Friday?"

"Thought I would. I need a break from the university. Monday starts Professor Tanner's vacation and two weeks of hell for me." Blair drained his own bottle and handed it to Jim. "What's for dinner man?"

"Oh, that's right." Jim went to the refrigerator. "I used that recipe of yours for teriyaki chicken. I put it in to soak after you fell asleep on the sofa last night." He pulled the tupperware container out and set it on the counter.

Blair grinned, "Great! I love that recipe."

Jim took the lid off to look at the darkened, marinated meat, "Well, it looks all right ..."

"Mmm ... I can smell it from here," Blair said, mouth watering.

"Guess I did it right then," Jim smiled, pleased with himself.

"I'll do a salad. How 'bout rice, too?"

"Only if you do it. Mine never turns out right."

"True," Blair kidded. "I'll do it."

They talked, teased, chatted, discussed, etc. all through the process of preparing and eating dinner.

**********

After spending Thursday morning running down possible leads on the Milland case, Jim and Blair returned to the station frustrated. They had witnesses that wouldn't admit they'd witnessed anything. No one was talking.

"Ya know, Jim," Blair was saying as they walked towards Jim's desk in Major Crimes. "If I'd witnessed a gang style killing, I'm not too sure I'd be willing to talk to the cops either."

Jim argued, "Sandburg, what makes you think it was a ..."

"Ellison!" Captain Banks called angrily from the door of his office. "Bring Sandburg and get in here!"

"God Chief," Jim teased. "What'd you do now?"

"Me?!" Blair said innocently, trying to think if he had done anything. Then remembered, "I haven't been here for more than a week, man!" Grinning, "Maybe he just missed me."

"Yeah ... right," Jim chuckled as he led the way to the Captain's office.

"What's up, sir?" Jim asked as he sat in the chair facing the desk.

Blair sat on the table that was behind his partner.

Simon sighed, took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I just got off the phone with Police Chief Warren. He wants us to pull the bodyguards off Blair and ..."

"WHAT?!" Jim interrupted, livid. "Why?!"

"Will you calm down! I don't like it either!" Simon took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he spoke,

"There hasn't been any new developments with Evans in a month. The Chief thinks it's over and wants us to close the case."

"Do you think it's over sir?" Blair asked quietly.

"No ... no, Blair ... I don't."

Blair's face paled a little and he looked down at the scar on the palm of his left hand.

Jim stood and faced his partner, "Don't worry Blair."

"Jim, our time is limited here," Simon started again.

"Captain?"

"I am going to have to pull Carson and any others off this case ..."

Jim and Blair looked at each other, then at Simon.

"... But, if we keep it quiet, we should be able to continue," Simon finished as he stood.

Blair was stunned as he realized what was being said, "Captain ... Simon, I can't expect you and Jim to risk your jobs ... not for me."

"I'd do the same for any man working for me, Blair."

"Daniel Evans will come after you as soon as he realized the bodyguards are gone," Jim said. "This is what the bastard's been waiting for."

"My thought exactly Jim," Simon agreed.

"So ... what happens now?" Blair asked. He felt grateful, confused ... scared.

"Continue with the Milland case. Keep your eyes open, and be careful," Simon replied.

"Oh God ...," Blair mumbled softly.

Jim stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong Chief?"

"I was ... umm ... just starting to not be afraid to answer the phone man."

Jim gave him an understanding smile and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "Don't worry partner, we'll get him."

**********

Blair was too preoccupied to be at the station, so Simon let Jim stay home Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but he was on 24-hour call if he was needed. "Take the kid home Jim," Simon told the Detective Friday morning. "His constant pacing and jumping every time a phone rings is driving everyone crazy. Consider yourself on call through the weekend."

Monday started Blair's "two weeks of hell" with Professor Tanner's classes added to his own work and studies. But, at least he was staying busy. Simon spent that week with the grad student at the university while Jim continued working on the Milland case.

Wednesday there was a break in the Milland case when a witness finally stepped forward. Jim and his team were able to make an arrest on Friday. Saturday and Sunday found Simon, Jim and Blair at the station. The two older men dumped tons of paperwork on Blair just to keep him busy, and he never complained once. He sat at Detective Brown's desk, since H had the weekend off, forwarded the phone to Jim and worked silently throughout the days.

One week down, and nothing heard from Daniel Evans. No one ventured a guess on if this was good or bad.

Another Monday, with the Milland case finished until it went to court, Jim went to the university with Blair. Jim always marveled at Blair's ability to juggle classes, lectures, studying, and work at the station with him. No wonder the kid was so hyper, he lived on adrenaline! The Detective felt a certain sense of pride when he watched his younger friend teach. Blair was able to relate to the students better than any teacher or professor Jim had ever seen, probably because there wasn't that much difference in their ages. Students showed up in Blair's office all the time, and no matter how busy he was, he always made time for each one.

So Jim sat through the classes, lectures, testing and grading sessions. He ordered lunch to be sure Blair ate, straightened the younger man's office, helped post grades, filed reports and folders in the cabinets, and generally enjoyed being there more than he'd admit. Jim had never spent this much time at the university with Blair, and was getting some real insight as to why Blair was ... well, Blair.

But, the dreaded phone call did come. On Friday, while Blair was studying at his desk and Jim sat reading through a 1964 issue of "National Geographic" that just happened to have an article about Peru.

Blair groped for the phone when it rang without looking up from the text he'd been reading. He'd been so intent on his book, Blair didn't even jump at the sound. "Sandburg," he mumbled absently into the receiver.

Looking up at the sound of the phone, Jim tuned his hearing to the voice on the line. A habit he'd started since Blair insisted on answering his office phone. Jim never eavesdropped, but rather listened until he was sure who it wasn't. This was their compromise.

"Miss me ... little man?" the voice hissed.

Blair's head snapped up and around to meet Jim's stormy eyes. Yes, he'd heard.

"Are you ready to die?"

All color drained from Blair's face. His mouth wouldn't work and he couldn't make his hand hang the phone up. Jim heard his heartbeat and breathing increase dramatically. Moving quickly, Jim grabbed the phone and hung it up. A few seconds later it rang again.

Jim picked up Blair's backpack, "C'mon, let's go."

Blair swallowed hard as he stood up, still staring at the phone as it rang. Jim handed him his jacket and snatched up his own, then put a hand on the Blair's back and gently Guided him out of the office, shutting the door behind them. The phone continued to ring.

In the truck, as Jim moved through traffic, he listened to Blair's body calm down. "You okay, Chief?" Jim asked as they sat at a stoplight.

Blair nodded silently, staring at his feet. Embarrassed by the panic that had nearly completely overtaken him.

Jim saw it, recognized it, and put a hand on his partner's arm, "It's okay Blair, we'll get through this."

Another nod, the light turned green.

"Jeez Jim," Blair said suddenly. "I damn near had a full blown panic attack at the sound of his voice!" He shifted in the seat to look at his friend, "Man, I was soo ..."

"Blair," Jim interrupted, "Some wacko calls and asks if you're ready to die." His voice was calmer than his feelings. "I think that's a damn good reason to panic, Chief."

"But, Jim ..."

"No Blair! Don't do this to yourself! You're scared ... you have every right to be, it's normal." Jim took a quick glance at the young man in the passenger seat. "God Chief, I'm scared too."

"You .. you're scared?"

Jim nodded, "Yes I am." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "You are not just my Guide. Not just my partner. You are my friend." Probably the best one I've ever had, he said to himself. "Do you trust me as much as I trust you?"

Blair's chin quivered slightly at the words he'd just heard. "Jim, I trust you with my life."

Another glance told the Detective that some of the fear was being replaced with resolve to get through this. Jim felt the moment's crisis passing when his cell phone rang. "Ellison," he said into the small phone as he pulled over to the curb and stopped.

"I know the little man means a whole hell of a lot to you Detective," Daniel Evans spat. "That's why he's going to die. A life for a life."

Jim pushed the power button to the off position.

"It was him?" Blair asked, knowing the answer by the look on Jim's face.

Jim nodded as he checked traffic before pulling a U-turn back in the direction they'd come.

"Where are we going, Jim?"

"Anywhere other than the loft." Jim yanked his pager off his belt and handed it to Blair, "Turn it off. He'll no doubt get that number, too."

**********

"Simon, it's me," Jim said from the hotel room phone.

"Where the hell are you?!" Simon asked, sounding more worried than angry. "I've been trying to get you for two hours! You haven't answered your pages and your cell phone's off!"

"Yeah, I know. Evans started calling at Blair's office. He has my cell number now, and I decided not to give him the chance to use my pager."

Blair was sitting on one of the beds, back against the headboard with his knees pulled up, staring at nothing.

"Sandburg okay?" Simon inquired, calming some.

"He's fine, sir," Jim answered, smiling slightly. "Look, we're at the Western 8 Inn over on 12th and Cedar. Could you stop at the loft, pick up a few things for us? I thought it was probably better not to go back there right away."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be over later. What room?"

"Upstairs ... 214. I'm pretty sure no one followed us here, so he's probably watching the loft."

"More than likely. See you soon as I can Jim."

"Watch your back Simon," Jim said before he hung the phone up. He looked at his rather morose partner as he sat down on the second bed. Noticing Blair absently rubbing at the palm of his left hand, Jim asked, "How ya holdin' up Chief?"

The sullen look left his face as Blair's thoughts returned to the present, "I'm all right, Jim ... I guess." He sighed softly, "Jim?"

"You wondering if he'll find us?" Jim asked. "I've been thinking the same thing."

"So you think he could find us here?"

"There's a chance, sure. He could drive by and see the truck. Or maybe he did follow us, and I didn't spot it. I won't lie to you Blair," Jim explained. "I think it's a matter of time, and hopefully it's on our side."

"So, you think he'd try something ... even here?" I hope we're the only ones staying here, Blair thought.

"Well, he has nothing to lose. He'll go back to prison anyway when he's caught. He didn't get consent to leave Texas."

"But, I thought he got out of prison because he'd served his time?" Blair asked, a little confused.

"He did, but due to the nature of the crimes he committed he's monitored by the state parole board for an indefinite length of time. That means he can't do anything without letting the state know. Evans blew it when he dropped out of sight, then left the state." Jim decided to change the subject, if only for a few minutes, "I'm starved. We're going to have to have something delivered."

"Guess that means pizza or Chinese," Blair said as he reached for the phone book.

**********

It was nearly midnight when Simon showed up at the hotel. He brought in a gym bag containing toothbrushes and clean clothes. Jim took the bag as he closed the door behind the Captain, then set it on one of the two chairs in the room.

"Thanks sir, appreciate it," Jim said, indicating the bag.

"I didn't bring too much. I wanted to keep it as inconspicuous as possible," Simon told him.

"Understood. Hopefully, this will be over before we need to worry about it."

Simon noticed Blair sleeping and smiled a little. "Any more calls?"

"No, he obviously hasn't found us yet. Anything at the loft?"

"Nothing I could see, but I can't be positive I wasn't followed. There's a lot of traffic out there for this time of night."

"It's Friday night, Simon. What'd you expect," Jim smiled.

Blair stirred, squinting sleepily at the two men, "Jim? What's ..."

"S'okay Chief, it's Simon, go back to sleep," Jim told him.

"'Kay," Blair yawned as he drifted off again.

Simon chuckled quietly, "How'd you do that?"

Jim grinned affectionately at the sleeping figure, "He's just plain exhausted."

"How's he holdin' up otherwise?"

"He's scared, Simon."

Nodding, Simon said, "Yeah ... can't say I blame him. Well, look ... I'm outta here. I'll call you in the morning, but if anything ... and I do mean anything ... comes up, call me."

Jim nodded, "Yeah, thanks."

Simon pointed a finger at Jim's chest, "I mean it, Jim. Evans is crazy, and he doesn't care who he takes out to get what he wants."

"I know sir. All too well." Jim's eyes betrayed the anger he felt as he glanced at Blair. "We'll get him."

Patting him on the shoulder, Simon said, "Yeah, we *will* get him."

After Simon left, Jim locked and chained the door. Then decided to shove a chair up under the doorknob for a little added security. He went to the window to make sure the Captain got to his car and on his way without incident. After Jim was sure all was clear for the time being, he went to settle on his bed. Removing the gun he kept clipped to the back of his belt, he placed it within easy reach on the bed beside him. Pushing the pillows against the headboard, he leaned back. It was going to be a long night. At least the hotel had cable, and HBO.

Blair mumbled something in his sleep as he rolled onto his stomach. His head was buried between the pillows, a disarray of curls the only thing visible. Jim reached over and flicked the light off that sat on the night table between the beds. With his acute sense of hearing he could keep the volume on the TV down to near zero and still hear it fine. Blair twitched under the blankets, but sighed as he went deeper into sleep.

**********

Jim woke at 5:30am. His neck and back were stiff from the awkward position he'd fallen asleep in. It had been 2:45 the last time he'd looked at his watch. Putting his feet over the edge of the bed, he sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. That's when he notice the other bed was empty.

"Sandburg?" Jim said quietly as he reached for his gun. The TV was still on, and the chair was still in position at the door. "Sand ..." The toilet flushed and Jim let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He holstered the gun and set it on the bedside table.

Blair walked out of the bathroom, looking groggy and pale with sleep. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Jim sitting there. "Sorry, man. I wasn't thinking," he apologized, assuming he'd woke Jim when he flushed.

Jim smiled at the disheveled young man standing there in nothing but blue boxers, "I was already awake."

Blair yawned as he crawled onto the bed, not bothering to get back under the cover. "Get much sleep?"

"Couple hours," Jim answered, still rubbing the kinks out of his neck.

The phone rang. Blair jumped.

"It's probably Simon," Jim said as he picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

There was a low, crazy laugh in his ear.

"Get dressed! Now!" Jim told Blair as he slammed the receiver down, grabbing his gun. He crossed quickly to the window and peered carefully down at the parking lot. It was just starting to get light outside.

Blair scrambled off the bed, "Oh shit! He found us didn't he?" He slipped into his jeans and picked his T-shirt up off the floor. "Is he out there Jim?"

"I don't see him, but that doesn't mean he's not there somewhere." Jim put his jacket on as he went to the door. He pulled the chair aside. "Let's go, grab that gym bag."

Blair threw on his jacket, then stuffed his shoes and socks into the bag thinking he'd put them on in the truck. He stayed as close to Jim as possible without tripping the big man. As they quickly made their way down the stairs, Jim watched the parking lot carefully. There were several cars other than Jim's truck in the lot.

Jim unlocked the passenger side of the truck first, letting Blair slide in before moving around to the drivers side door. Blair shut and locked his door, then reached over to unlock the driver's side for Jim. The lock wouldn't release. Jim tried to unlock it with his key, but it wouldn't turn.

"Okay," Jim said. "Get out. We'll call Simon from the room." There's no telling what else has been tampered with.

Blair tried his door lock as Jim moved back around the truck. Nothing! He tried to roll the window down, but the handle wouldn't move. "Jim! I can't get out man!"

Taking one last look around the parking lot, Jim holstered his gun and tried his key in the passenger side lock. He knew it wasn't going to work, but he had to try it. What the hell's going on?! "Sit tight, Chief! I'll find something to break the window!"

An engine roared to life on the street. Jim and Blair both heard it. A big, older model sedan plowed its way into the parking lot. Tires screeching, sparks flying as the undercarriage hit the curb.

"JIM! MOVE!" Blair screamed, pounding his fists against the window.

Jim managed to jump clear just as the sedan hit the truck on the drivers side door. Metal screamed and glass shattered, flying everywhere. Blair was slammed around the inside of the cab like a rag doll.

The big car was backing up as Jim got to his feet, and reached for his gun. It was gone! He looked at the sedan. Oh God, he's going to do it again, he thought. Then Jim saw Blair tumble out the broken passenger side window. No time to look for the gun now. "SANDBURG!" he yelled as he ran forward, grabbing the stunned man and hauling him out of the way before the sedan slammed into the truck a second time.

Jim got a glimpse of blood on the side of Blair's head, but there was no time to stop. He held onto Blair's arm as they ran out to the street and headed west down the sidewalk. They stopped at the corner a block away. Two shots rang out. Jim turned and saw Daniel Evans running towards them, gun drawn and firing as he ran. Two more shots ricocheted off the sidewalk near them. Jim knew the hotel manager had probably already called the police, but they couldn't just stand around and wait.

Pulling Blair along by the arm, Jim led the way down the sidewalk. There was a small distribution warehouse on the next block. Jim had noticed it on their way to the hotel. It was Saturday, and no one should be there. He could call Simon, and they could hide until help arrived. "Just a little farther," Jim coaxed to his weakening partner. "You can make it." Blair was hurt and Jim knew it, but they didn't dare stop.

**********

After getting them inside the warehouse through a door on the loading dock, Jim and Blair sat on the floor behind some crates and boxes. Blair was coughing as he tried desperately to catch his breath.

"Hang on buddy," Jim said quietly. "Just breathe." He supported Blair with one arm, rubbing his back lightly as the coughing subsided into the shakes.

"Jim ...," Blair moaned. His was really starting to hurt now.

"Shh, don't talk Chief. Just keep breathing." He reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone. It wasn't there. Jim searched through his other pockets. Nothing! Shit! Okay, we deal with one thing at a time. Easing Blair back against one of the crates, Jim started to check his Guide's injuries. A cut on his right temple had stopped bleeding, bruises starting on his face. Sliding Sentinel sensitive fingers over Blair's arms, then over his ribs and down each leg. "I don't think anything's broken ..." But I can't tell if there's any internal damage, Jim finished the sentence silently.

That's when he noticed Blair's bare feet. There was blood on the floor. Jim hadn't realized that his partner hadn't put his shoes on. The glass from the broken truck windows, and the running, had really shredded the skin on the bottom of both Blair's feet.

"God Blair, I'm sorry ...," Jim said as he picked one foot up to rest it on his knee and examine it.

"Ssst, ow man! It's not your fault Jim," Blair whispered, still breathing hard.

In the dim security lights Jim could see the bits of glass, dirt and gravel that had been ground into each foot.

A door slammed. Listening intently, Jim heard the ragged breathing of someone who'd been running.

"Jim, is it him?" Blair whispered urgently.

Jim nodded, looking into his friend's frightened eyes.

"I know you're in here Detective," Evans called, his breath still slightly labored. "The little man left a fine trail for me to follow."

Turning toward the voice, they saw the bloody footprints Blair had left on their way in.

"Oh no ... Jim, I ...," Blair began softly.

Turning back to the trembling, pale figure, Jim saw the shock and pain on the young man's face. "It's okay Chief." Standing, he pulled Blair to his feet, "Hang on to me."

A wave of pain and dizziness made it hard to think, but Blair managed to get his arms up around the taller man's neck as he was scooped up off his feet. A barely audible groan rose from deep inside him as pain knifed through his chest and abdomen.

**********

Captain Simon Banks saw the old sedan imbedded in Jim's truck as he drove into the Western 8 Inn parking lot. Hurrying into the office where a uniformed officer and a Detective were interviewing the manager who had called 911, Simon listened as the elderly man related the early morning insanity. It had started just before 6am. It was now closing in on 7:00.

After hearing the manager's story, Simon walked quickly out to the shattered mess left by the two vehicles. "What do we have Joel?" he asked the big Detective who stood next to the truck taking notes.

Joel Taggert was Jim's friend as well as a colleague, and he liked Blair well enough to call him friend, too. "The sedan plowed into the truck ... twice," Joel told the Captain.

"Twice?!" Simon repeated.

"Yes sir, and at least one person was in the truck at the time."

Simon's eyes narrowed with anger as he stared at the truck.

Joel knew that look well, "There's blood on the seat and floor."

"Sir?" Detective Brown handed Simon two plastic evidence bags. One held a gun, the other a cell phone.

He only had to see them to know they belonged to Jim Ellison. "Okay ...," Simon began, but was interrupted by the hurried approach of Officer Daryl Carson.

"Sir, we found a trail of blood leading down the sidewalk," Daryl said. "They appear to be ... footprints."

Simon and Joel followed the officer out to the sidewalk. The prints were faint at first and darkened as they continued west.

"They're not Jim's ... too small," Joel said, almost to himself.

Simon sighed as he pulled off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay Taggert ... take Carson here and see if you can find where these prints go."

**********

Jim hurried through the maze of cartons and crates until he came to a small office against a far wall. He stopped and listened. He could hear Evans moving about, but not following. Blair had gone limp in his arms.

"Detective?" Evans called. "All I want is your friend. Give the little man to me ... I promise to let you watch."

Jim's jaw clenched as he ducked inside the darkened office. He set Blair down on the floor behind the desk so he'd be hidden from the windowed door. "Blair," Jim whispered into his friend's ear. "C'mon Chief, open your eyes."

Blair moaned softly as his eyes slowly opened. "Jim ... it ... hurts," he managed, taking a breath between each word.

"Hang on buddy, you're going to be fine." Damn, there must be internal injuries, Jim thought worriedly. There was a phone on the desk, but when he picked it up there was no dial tone. It was dead. Damn.

"I'm so cold." Blair whimpered, shivering violently.

Shock. Jim took his jacket off and covered him, "Stay put. I'll be back soon as I can."

Blair grabbed Jim's wrist in a weak, clammy hold, "No ... Jim." He could barely push the words out. "Wait ... for ... backup."

Jim took the hand and held it snugly in his own. "I can't Chief, I'll be back for you, don't worry." Jim gently put the shaking hand beneath the jacket. "It'll be over soon, and I'll come back. I promise."

"Be ... careful."

"Always, just concentrate on staying awake for me, okay?"

Blair nodded slightly, then watched Jim leave, quietly closing the door behind him.

**********

"Captain, Taggert here," Joel said into the radio.

"Just tell me you found them," Simon's tired voice came back.

"I believe we have sir, the footprints lead straight to a warehouse two blocks west of your location."

"Right, we're on our way."

**********

Jim used his hearing to find Evans and track him through the building, being careful not to concentrate too hard and cause a zone out. He needed to lead the man away from Blair, and keep him busy until help arrived. Making his way through the warehouse, Jim was trying to attract Evans attention without it being obvious. I need a higher vantage-point, Jim thought.

"I can hear you Detective!" Evans laughed. "Or is it the little one I'm hearing? No matter, I'll have you both in the end."

Blair heard the voice through a fog of fading consciousness. He had to hide. He looked around the dark office, moving his head slowly, sight fuzzy, thinking like mush in his mind. There weren't too many choices. Dragging his pain-racked body over the floor the few feet to the desk in front of him was torture. Blair gritted his teeth and whispered encouragement to himself to keep from screaming out loud. Once there, he carefully moved the chair aside enough to scoot his body under the desk. Then he pulled the chair back and in as close to his body as possible. Trembling with shock, pain, and exhaustion. Sweating, cold, ears ringing, Blair knew he was in trouble. The last thing he heard as he faded into oblivion was the office door opening.

"Are you in here?' Evans said quietly as he stepped inside. "Are you trying to hide from me?" He took a step closer to the desk and looked over.

Jim was horrified when he saw Daniel Evans at the office door. "HEY!" he yelled, waving his arms. "Hey, Evans! You want me? Here I am! Come get me, you prick!" So much for not being obvious!

A low, animal like growl rose in Evans' throat as he turned to see Jim standing on top of a high stack of crates.

"C'mon you ugly bastard!" Get the hell out of there! Jim screamed in his mind.

Another glance over the desk told him no one was there. Turning on his heel, Evans growled angrily as he ran towards the Detective, firing his gun as went. But, when he reached the stack where Jim had been, he stopped. For some reason he had thought the Detective would be there waiting for him. By the time he heard the noise behind him, it was too late. Jim slammed into Evans, sending both men sprawling into some cases of radio equipment.

They came to their feet together, fists flying. Jim connected with Evans' jaw, but did little damage. Evans nailed Jim in the stomach, but Jim was ready and countered with a kick, knocking Evans backward with enough force to unbalance him and send him to the floor. When the crazy man came up with his gun in hand, Jim was gone.

**********

Police cars were converging on the warehouse. Detective Taggert and Officer Carson had followed the bloody tracks to the door on the loading dock.

"What do we have?" Simon questioned when he joined them on the loading dock. He grimaced at the bloody smears on the ground that led to the door. Simon had heard the shots fired report on the radio.

"They're in there, sir," Taggert said. "Lots of shooting, and I could've swore I heard Jim yelling at someone in there."

More shots fired.

"Okay people," Simon announced over his radio. "We're going in, keep your eyes open and heads down."

**********

Jim's sensitive hearing told him that help had finally arrived.

Evans was totally enraged now, firing carelessly, without aiming, sending bullets in every direction. Snorting and growling as he followed Jim blindly, incapable of thinking. Daniel Evans had no idea that he was no longer chasing Jim ... he was following him. Jim only needed to stay ahead of Evans. The son-of-a-bitch was as crazy as his brother had been, wild like a sick animal.

Simon and Joel lead the way into the building, followed by a small army of Detectives and police officers who only cared that two of their own were in trouble. They spread out, keeping low as bullets ricocheted through the building. Evans could be heard bellowing in anger, cartons crashing across the floor.

"Okay Jim," Simon said quietly. "Bring him in."

Jim grinned as he heard the Captain's voice and started to lead Evans around.

"Sir, are we going after them?" Detective Brown asked.

Simon looked around at his men's positions, "No, let them come to us."

Jim felt the bullet slice across his right shoulder. He stumbled to his knees and Evans was on him. They struggled, Jim trying to wrestle the gun from Evans without success. He swung his fist and connected with the side of Evans' head, dazing the man. Jim had no weapon, was now wounded, and he was tiring, but Jim knew he had to take Evans to Simon and the others. He couldn't let Daniel Evans win the game.

Jim disappeared around another stack of crates with Daniel Evans close behind.

"I'm getting tired of this game Detective!" Evans yelled, panting. "Give it up! You can't win!"

Not much farther now, and we'll see who's going to win, Jim said to himself. Almost there. Evans still had not a clue as to what was waiting for him. Jim's shoulder was throbbing, and he was winded, but he wasn't going to stop now. It was nearly over, and he'd made a promise to his partner he intended to keep.

The sounds of the two men were coming closer now. "All right men!" Simon ordered. "Stand ready."

Every gun in the group cocked simultaneously. They all had heard enough of the chase to get angry and each knew they would do what needed to be done.

Jim smiled as his Sentinel hearing picked up Simon's voice again, this time accompanied by the sound of guns being cocked. Almost there. God, he was tired. The throbbing in his shoulder was getting worse. Just a little farther.

Stumbling around one last stack of cartons, Jim came into view and ran straight into Simon's waiting arms. He collapsed, gasping for breath, taking both of them to the floor.

Daniel Evans rounded the same corner seconds later and slid to a stop, nearly going down on his butt, when he saw the guns come up to level on him. Standing there panting, staring at each gun trained on him, Evans grinned wickedly, "The game is over Detective, but you haven't won. Not really." Then the grin turned into a low, insane chuckle that started down deep as he raised his own gun. Every officer fired at once, every bullet finding its target. Daniel Evans was dead before he hit the floor.

"Jim, are you all right?!" Simon questioned when he noticed the man's bloodied shoulder. "Where's Sandburg?"

Trying to take deep breaths, Jim answered, "Yeah ... fine. Blair's in ... bad shape though Simon."

"Where is he?"

Jim got shakily to his feet, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

Simon caught him by one arm, "No Jim, just tell me. We'll go ..."

Shaking his head Jim said, "I made him a promise." Then went off in the direction of the dark little office.

"Get the paramedics in here and call for an ambulance," Simon said to the nearest officer before following Jim.

**********

Opening the door, Jim expected find Blair where he'd left him, but the young man wasn't there.

"Blair?" Jim said, confused. "Simon, I left him right here ... leaning against the wall!"

"Settle down Jim," Simon told him. "He can't have gone far." Simon started barking orders for everyone to start looking for Sandburg.

Jim stepped into the space Blair had occupied and looked down at the floor. The blood there was from Blair's torn feet, but there was no trail to follow. Closing his eyes, Jim inhaled deeply, trying to concentrate. He could smell blood, sweat, but there was too much and he couldn't isolate it. He needed his Guide. Dammit, where is he?

Switching to hearing, Jim listened intently to those around him. He listened to his Guide's voice in his mind, and concentrated. He pushed each heartbeat away, some he knew, others he didn't. Jim was searching for a certain heartbeat, the one that was most familiar. The one that meant the most.

Suddenly, Jim's eyes snapped open and he gasped, "Oh God!"

"What, Jim?" Simon asked, wondering if Jim was about to be sick.

He'd heard it, faint, weak ... and right in front of him! Jim grabbed the chair, pushing it away as he got down on his knees. "Blair?" Jim said quietly, reaching under the desk for the small form curled beneath it. "Blair, answer me." Grabbing onto Blair's arm, Jim gently pulled his Guide out and into his strong arms. If he hadn't been able to hear and feel the heart beating in Blair's chest, Jim would have thought his partner was dead. "C'mon Chief, talk to me," he pleaded as he sat back against the wall, holding the limp, unresponsive figure against his broad chest. Jim felt a tremor in Blair's body, and was angry at himself for not being able to stop the pain.

"GET THE MEDICS OVER HERE ... NOW!" Simon shouted as he pushed everyone out of the room.

Jim held Blair close, rocking slightly, speaking gentle encouragement's, "Blair open your eyes. You were suppose to stay awake for me."

A soft moan. A shallow gasp of pain.

"That's it Chief, c'mon, open your eyes buddy."

Blair's eyes fluttered, then opened slowly. His vision blurred, "Jim?" His voice was barely audible. "You ... came ... back."

"I always keep my promises Blair."

The effort it took for Blair to speak was painful at best. "I tried to ... stay ... awake, but ..."

Jim's eyes burned as they filled with tears, "Shh, it's okay now. It's over." He pushed sweat-dampened hair off Blair's face. He's burnin' up!

A weak and shaking hand attempted to reach for Jim's injured shoulder, but fell back, "You're ... hurt?"

A single tear slid down the big guy's cheek. God, he could die right now, but he's worried about me, Jim thought. "I'm all right. It's just a graze. How ...," his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again. "How are you feeling?" You can't die on me!

"Tired ... cold ..."

The paramedics came in, but Jim wouldn't completely relinquish his hold on Blair. He stayed on the floor, cradling his friend as the medics worked around him. They didn't complain. When the stretcher was wheeled in, Jim carefully lifted Blair onto it, oblivious to the pain in his right shoulder.

"He's strong Jim, he'll be all right," Simon tried to assure Jim, as well as himself.

One of the paramedics inspected Jim's shoulder. It wasn't serious and had stopped bleeding on its own.

"God, Simon," Jim mumbled from the passenger seat of Simon's car as they drove to the hospital. "He can't die."

"He won't Jim." He's the best thing to happen to you in a long time. He's like an annoying kid brother ... and you love him, Simon said to himself. He prayed, Please God, don't let this kid die.

**********

Shock, a concussion, and fever were among the reasons Blair's condition was critical for nearly twenty-four hours. Amazingly though, he had no broken bones from his flight around the truck's cab, but there was deep, severe bruising to his ribs, chest and abdomen. Multiple contusions over most of his body. And though his feet were swollen, and badly cut, the doctors did not need to use any stitches.

Jim's shoulder didn't even require stitches, but would be sore for awhile. Doctor Kelly and Simon tried to talk the Detective into going home to rest, but he wouldn't listen. Jim stayed with Blair during those critical hours in intensive care. Jim held him through the pain and delirium induced nightmares. Wiped the sweat away with cool, damp towels. Talked to the younger man, and listened to his labored breathing. Jim needed to be there. It wasn't until Blair's fever broke and he was sleeping comfortably that he allowed Simon to take him home.

Several hours after Jim left the hospital, Blair woke up asking about his friend. Was he alright? Blair remembered blood, but couldn't recall anything else. Doctor Kelly assured him that Jim was fine and had gone home to get some sleep.

"I need to talk to him," Blair said weakly, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I need to ... be sure." I need to hear his voice.

Doctor Kelly shook his head, "No, he needs to rest as much as you do. Captain Banks took him home and said he would stay with him. Don't worry."

Blair wanted to argue, but didn't have the strength. He was so tired, and his body hurt so much he didn't even want to breathe.

"Sleep now, rest, I'm sure Detective Ellison will be here when you wake up." Whether he should be or not, the doctor finished silently, a slight smile on his face. He pushed a needle into the IV tube connected to Blair's hand, "There now ... that should take the pain away so you can sleep."

Blair felt himself drifting into someplace painless and comfortable. He trusted Doctor Kelly, and believed him when he said Jim was all right. But, if he could ... just ... Blair fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

**********

Jim arrived while Doctor Kelly had Blair's torso unwrapped for examination and was horrified when he saw the bruises on his friend. A bandage covered the cut on Blair's right temple, bruises covered his right cheek, and chin. His feet were wrapped and elevated on pillows. After the doctor finished with Blair, who had slept peacefully through the exam, he insisted on looking at Jim's shoulder. Now he alternated between sitting next to the bed and standing at the window.

"Blair?"

The voice was familiar. Who is it? Blair asked his groggy mind.

Jim heard Blair stir slightly and hoped he was waking up. He'd only been back at the hospital for a couple hours. After sleeping for nearly eighteen hours at home, Jim was feeling a little guilty about leaving Blair alone for so long. But Doctor Kelly assured him that his patient had been sleeping comfortably. In fact, Blair was doing well enough to be moved out of intensive care into the private room Simon had arranged.

Blair heard movement, footsteps.

Jim moved back to the window.

Where'd that voice go? I should know that voice. A bright flash behind his eyes made Blair gasp, then moan softly as his body protested the quick intake of breath. Footsteps again, quicker this time.

"Blair?" Jim said softly, pressing a hand to Blair's forehead. "C'mon Chief, I know you're in there."

Eyes opened slowly, squinting against the light in the room and fuzzy vision. Who are you? Blair thought as he tried to focus.

"Hey Chief," Jim smiled.

Some of the fuzz went away. "Jim? Thank God ... you're okay?"

The voice was so weak, but Jim wanted to scream with relief. "Good to see you buddy."

Blair reached for one of Jim's hands, an urgent look in his eyes. He was grateful when Jim grasped the hand. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Jim answered, giving the smaller hand a light squeeze. "It's over."

**********

Jim spent as much time as he could at the hospital with his partner. Blair slept most of the time, but it didn't matter. He was alive, and he would heal. There were a few nightmares, normal for what Blair had been through. Jim was having some of his own.

"When can I go home Jim?" Blair asked during one of his more wakeful moments. He could actually sit up now without anything more than dull discomfort.

Jim reached over and pushed the stray curls off Blair's bruised face, "When Doctor Kelly says you can."

Blair gave a look of disgust at the older man's caring smile, "How long have I been here anyway? I've lost track of time."

"Three days."

Blair moved to slide his feet off the bed.

Jim reached for him, "What's up?"

"Bathroom. Doctor Kelly said I can start getting up a little, but not alone. I still get dizzy spells once in a while."

Grinning, pleased with Blair's progress, Jim said, "Alone you're not."

Blair smiled as he took hold of Jim's arm and stood slowly.

"Lovely footwear," Jim teased, seeing the "booties" that were strapped to Blair's bandaged feet with velcro.

"You like 'em? They're all the rage," Blair said good-naturedly. "They take some of the pressure off my feet when I walk."

"You mean when you shuffle?" Jim chuckled.

"Yeah." Blair grabbed the doorframe when they got to the bathroom. "Okay, I can do this now."

Jim reluctantly let go of Blair's arm, "You sure?"

Nodding, Blair made his way inside. Jim shut the door, but stood just outside in case he was needed.

"How's the shoulder, Jim?" Blair asked, knowing the older man was at the door.

"A little sore, but healing fine, thank you."

"Great." Blair flushed the toilet and washed his hands. THUD! "Aargh! Dammit!"

Jim quickly pushed the door open, "You okay? What happened?"

Blair was leaning on the sink, "Hit my foot. God, that hurts!"

"C'mon, back to bed," Jim said, then scooped the smaller man up.

"Jim, put me down!"

"Okay." Jim deposited Blair carefully on the bed.

Blair wanted to be angry, but one look at the concerned face above him and he could only sigh, "Thanks man, but don't make it a habit, okay?"

**********

Late Friday morning, Jim brought Blair home from the hospital. It was painful for Jim to watch Blair make his way slowly up to the loft. Jim had been willing to carry him, but Blair wouldn't have it.

Bed?" Jim asked when they got inside.

"Sofa," Blair answered. "Ssst. Ow. It's closer." His feet were screaming at him to sit down.

Jim could feel his roommate shaking as he helped ease him down onto the sofa. "Shouldn't have let you walk."

"I'm okay Jim." Blair slowly swung his feet up and leaned back into the cushions with a relieved sigh.

"Blair, you're pale, sweating bullets, and shaking. You are not okay!"

"Jim, listen ..."

"No, you listen! If I have to use my vacation time to stay home and make sure you rest ... dammit, I will!" Jim scowled, then turned and walked to the kitchen.

Blair stared at his friend's back as Jim walked away, a little confused. "Jim ... I'm sorry," he finally said softly.

Jim pulled a glass from the cupboard and looked at him, "What for Chief?"

"I ... well ... umm," Blair stammered and looked away. God, can't I get anything right?!

Jim filled the glass with water and walked back to the living room. "What is it Blair?" He sat down on the coffee table, facing the young man.

"Well, I ... I've just ..." Blair sniffled, I am not going to cry! He took the glass from Jim, "You'd do that for me?"

Jim fished through his pockets for the prescription bottle of pain medication. "What? Stay home with you?" he asked as he opened the bottle and tapped a pill into Blair's open hand. "Sure I would." Why does that surprise him? He'd do the same for me, Jim thought, confused by Blair's reaction. "Take your pill."

Blair stared at the tablet in his hand without really seeing it. "Other than my Mom, I don't think I've ever known anyone who cared enough to do that," he finally said, so softly he wasn't sure he'd said it out loud.

Jim suddenly understood. "Blair, look at me." He waited until eye contact was made. "You are my Guide. You are my partner. You are my family. Don't *ever* forget that, Chief."

Blair sniffled again, trying to wipe an arrant tear away, unsuccessfully, before Jim could see.

Jim nudged the hand still holding the pill, "Do you want me to take some time off?"

Blair popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed it with a gulp or two of water. He looked at Jim again. Should I ask? I don't want him to think ... "Yes ... please?" He stared down at his lap, feeling the heat rise in his face. "I just ... don't really want to be alone right now, okay?"

Jim saw Blair's cheeks redden and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, no problem. I'll call Simon right now. Just relax."

Blair nodded and scooted down to put his head on the pillows. Jim covered him with the blanket that was always draped over the back of the sofa. He had never felt as safe and comfortable as he did right then.

<>~~<>~~<>

end

---