New
Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles
Hard To Live With Him...
by Suzie
Summary: Umm... that pretty much explains it. #1 in Writer's Block Series #1.
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.
Notes: My brain stalled on the other stories I'm working on, so I thought I'd get away from them for a bit.
"No birth certificate is issued when a friendship is born. There is nothing tangible. There is just a feeling that your life is different and that your capacity to love and care has miraculously been enlarged without any effort on your part. It's like having a tiny apartment and somebody moves in with you, but instead of becoming cramped and crowded, the space expands, and you discover rooms you never knew you had until your friend moved in with you."
~Steve Tesich
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blair was breathing in short gasps as he lay on the cement floor. The growing fog of vapor burned his lungs, throat and nose with each inhalation. His eyes were tearing so badly he couldn't see. Groaning as the ringing in his head signaled impending unconsciousness, Blair whispered, "Hurry, Jim. Please."
**********
Jim gripped Delta's jacket in his fists and slammed him against the brick wall outside the Kryton Building. "WHERE'S MY PARTNER!?!" he yelled into Terrance Delta's face.
"Go to Hell!" Delta spat, trying vainly to pull away from the detective.
Yanking him forward, Jim slammed him back into the wall again. "WHERE ...
"Jim!" Captain Simon Banks appeared next to the Detective. "He can't tell us anything if you knock him senseless!"
Jim spared the Captain a quick glance. The strain and worry evident on his face as he turned back to Delta and ground out, "If you don't tell me where Sandburg is by the time I count to five ... I *will* forget I'm a cop ... and beat your head ... to a pulp ... against this wall." Jim's voice was dangerously calm, his eyes dark with anger.
"Jim!"
"One!"
"Don't do this, Ellison!" Simon warned calmly. "Think of the paperwork!"
"Two!"
Terrance Delta's struggles against Jim's vice like grip were becoming more desperate. "Let ... me ... go!"
"Three!"
"You can't let him do this, man!" Delta pleaded.
Simon looked mildly concerned. "I've lost control of this man. I strongly suggest you tell us where Mr. Sandburg is."
"Four!"
Delta swallowed convulsively, his eyes wide with sudden terror. "You can't be serious!"
"Fi ..."
"ALRIGHT!" Delta shouted. "Okay! He's in the basement. But you better get a haz mat team down there."
"Why?" Simon asked.
"Spindor opened a canister before we left. I don't know what it is."
With an angry growl, Jim shoved away from Delta and ran for the nearest door into the building.
"JIM!" Simon called as he handcuffed Terrance Delta. "WAIT!"
**********
Jim got off the elevator in the basement of the Kryton Building with gun drawn. His senses told him that there was no one there to stop him, but he stayed ready all the same. Reaching out with his sentinel abilities, Jim let the minute odor of the gas lead him to a locked room. The sound of a weakened heartbeat and labored breathing told him his partner, guide and friend was inside.
Removing the steel bar that blocked the door, Jim pulled the neck of his T-shirt up to cover his nose and mouth as he entered the room. "SANDBURG?!" he shouted.
Through the growing pain in his heaving chest, Blair heard his name, but couldn't get himself to respond.
Jim followed the sound of Blair's heart and soon located the young man. "Blair?" he said as he pulled his friend into his arms.
Blair's eyes cracked opened for a few seconds, but there was no recognition in them. Only a wet, cloudy blue emptiness that scared the crap out of Jim.
"Hang on, buddy," Jim said as he stood and put the smaller man over one shoulder. He quickly looked around at the dozen or so canisters. None were labeled.
In the elevator, Blair opened his eyes again. His head was pounding, his chest hurt and his insides were on fire. He could hear Jim's voice.
"Captain ... Ellison. I've got the kid. We're on our way up in the elevator," Jim said into the radio. "He needs help, sir."
Simon's voice came back with, "Right, Jim. The paramedics are waiting."
"Blair?" Jim said quietly when he noticed watery eyes staring blankly up at him. "Can you hear me, buddy?"
"Ch-Chest ... hurts," Blair pushed out weakly between wheezing breaths of air. "Help." He wanted to cough, but didn't have the strength.
"The medics are waiting. Hang on, Chief." Jim squeezed one cold hand reassuringly.
The paramedics put an oxygen mask over Blair's nose and mouth as Jim carried him off the elevator. An IV was started as soon as the limp body was laid on a stretcher.
"Do you know what kind of gas it was?" one of the medics asked.
Jim shook his head and answered, "No, the canisters were unmarked."
Blair groaned and started coughing painfully. "Jim?!" he called, panicky as he tried to push the mask away.
Jim moved to grasp Blair's hands as one medic replaced the mask. "Easy, Blair. Calm down. It's oxygen. Just breathe." Jim felt Blair shudder as he relaxed slightly. "You're gonna be okay, Blair. Take it easy."
Blair groaned again as he clung to one large hand. He started to suck in the much-needed air the mask was providing, wincing with each breath he drew.
"That's it. Just breathe. Nice and steady."
One of the paramedics leaned close to Blair. "Are you in pain?"
Blair nodded slowly and closed his eyes.
"Tell me where the pain is."
Blair didn't answer.
Jim massaged the back of Blair's hand gently. "Blair ... Blair, open your eyes."
The low rumble of the sentinel's voice pushed through the haze and Blair opened dull reddened eyes.
"Where's the pain, Blair?"
Blair stared up at Jim without answering.
"Tell me where it hurts, Chief, so they can help you."
"Ch-Chest," Blair wheezed. "Head ... pounding."
"Does your throat hurt?" Jim asked.
Blair nodded slightly. "Insides ... burning."
**********
Hours later.
"Jim?" Blair whispered hoarsely into the dimly lit hospital room. He didn't want to move his throbbing head.
"Yeah, Chief," Jim replied from the chair next to the bed. "I'm right here."
"Just checkin'. Thought you might've left."
"No ... thought I'd stick around." Jim gently pressed his hand to Blair's cool forehead.
The light pressure seemed soothing somehow. "You should go home, man. Get some rest."
"I'm resting fine right here. No talking ... go back to sleep," Jim whispered, pushing several long curls off the young man's face.
"Wanna go home."
"Shh. We'll go home in the morning, Chief. I promise."
"'Kay." Blair drifted off to sleep again, feeling the warmth of Jim's hand on his face.
Feeling Blair's breathing relax, Jim watched his guide sleep for long minutes before shifting back in his chair. One hand rested on Blair's arm as he stared blankly at the TV, thinking.
Inhaling a small amount of the gas had no effect on Jim beyond a slight headache, but Blair had been in that room for nearly a half-hour. Doctors still didn't know what the vapor was made up of, but had determined it wouldn't cause any permanent damage. Breathing 100% oxygen for several hours had relived the burning sensation Blair had complained of and eased the pain in his chest and head. His lungs were undamaged, but badly irritated. The young man's throat and nasal passages were raw, though, and would need time to heal. The oxygen mask gone, replaced by a line running under his nose. His breathing was still raspy and wheezing, but not labored as it had been.
How close Jim had come to losing Blair, he didn't know. He did know that it had been too close, and he didn't want it to happen again. But what could he do? Have Blair's observers credentials revoked? They'd been that route before and it only served as fuel for arguments. The main thing that bothered the big detective was that fact that Blair never really complained. He was always there. Always watching his back. *Always* trusting Jim and his abilities ... sentinel and otherwise.
Jim remembered Simon telling him not too long ago, "You protect him like a little brother. But even brothers grow up eventually."
He hadn't been sure what the captain had meant then. But now ....
**********
The sun was peeking in between the closed slats of the shade covering the hospital room's only window. Jim opened his eyes. When had he fallen asleep? Pushing himself up straight in the chair, Jim turned towards the bed and smiled.
Blair was sleeping soundly on his side, facing him. One arm wrapped around Jim's on the bed, as if Blair wanted to make sure he wouldn't leave. Jim felt warm inside at the security Blair felt in his presence. Gently, Jim pushed the hair off the other's cheek and felt the skin, smiling, again, at the normal temperature he found there. Blair's breathing was easier, a little less wheezy.
Jim carefully disengaged his arm from Blair's hold, stood and stretched before moving to the bathroom across the room.
He had just flushed the toilet and buckled his belt when the gasping breath reached Jim's ears. By the time he reached the bed, Blair was coughing deep in his chest. A painful sound that made Jim grimace. He gently pulled the younger man up and supported him with one strong arm as he pushed the button to elevate the head of the bed. "Easy there, Chief. It's okay."
When Blair stopped coughing, he was weak and shaking. Tears streamed down his face. "God, that hurt," he rasped out. His voice was barely a whisper.
Jim let Blair lean back against the pillows when the bed was positioned to let him sit up. He poured a little water into the cup and handed it to Blair. "Wish I could do something to help," Jim said.
Blair took several sips of the water, wincing as he swallowed. "You're here ... that's enough," he smiled, voice barely audible. He handed the cup back to Jim. "Thanks."
Jim sighed, feeling strangely content with that statement. "The doctor said you shouldn't talk for a few days. Everything needs time to heal." He pushed the table over Blair's lap with pen and pad of paper within reach.
Blair picked up the pen and wrote "OK" in a corner of the pad. Then grinned tiredly up at his friend.
Jim shook his head slightly and chuckled, "That's the idea, Chief."
"Home?" Blair wrote next.
"Soon as the doctor checks you out. They don't foresee any complications so long as you rest at home for a few days."
Blair nodded, then moved his legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood.
Jim grasped an arm to steady his partner. "What are you doing?"
Blair opened his mouth to answer, but thought better of it when he saw the disapproving look Jim gave him. He pointed towards the bathroom.
**********
"Easy does it," Jim said as he guided Blair off the elevator. "Just take it slow."
Blair's body had begun to ache the more he moved around. He'd been given medication before leaving the hospital, and though it helped the aches and pains, it was making him increasingly light headed and weak. At least they hadn't had to take the stairs.
"I wish they wouldn't have given me so much of that drug, man," Blair said in his raspy whisper as he staggered and leaned against Jim.
Jim kept his arm around the drugged glazed young man. "I told them you have strong reactions to drugs because you don't use them much. They gave you a half-dose."
They stopped in front of the loft door.
"Oh man, Jim. Are we there yet?"
"Just have to open the door and you can go to bed, Chief."
"I want to take a shower first," Blair said, as he was lead into the loft.
Jim shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the rack. "You're barely coherent enough to stand up."
"My ears are ringing," Blair yawned.
"Which is why you can't take a shower right now," Jim smiled as helped Blair off with his jacket. "Let's get you to bed, Chief." He put a hand at the small of his guide's back and gently pushed him towards his bedroom. "You'll feel better after some sleep."
Blair sat heavily on the bed and let Jim pull shoes, socks, jeans and shirt off. When Blair made no move to lay down Jim took him by the shoulders, but Blair stretched his arms around Jim's waist and pressed his head into the hard, muscled stomach.
"Blair?" Jim instinctively returned the embrace. "What is it?"
"I love you." The words were said simply, with great conviction.
"Blair?" Gently removing the arms from his waist, Jim knelt in front of the small figure.
Blair smiled groggily. "You know ... you're not just a thesis. You're my stability."
Jim blushed slightly and patted Blair's knee as he stood.
"If I wasn't so drugged up ... I couldn't say this ... but I mean it."
"What's that, Chief?" Jim asked as he gently pushed his boxer-clad friend under the covers.
"For the first time in my life ... I don't want to go anywhere. I want to be here. I want to be your friend."
"You *are* my friend, Blair."
"Jim ..."
"That's enough now. You're not suppose to be talking ... remember?"
Blair quickly drifted into an easy sleep.
Jim waited, standing next to the bed. What is this? What have you done to me?
**********
Later that day.
"How's the kid doing?" Simon asked as he hung up his coat.
"He's doing okay, Simon. He's sleeping," Jim answered. "Want a beer?"
"Sure." Simon sat in the big chair in the living room.
Jim grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. He handed one to the tall, lanky, black man that was his captain and friend before sitting on the sofa facing him.
"What's wrong?"
"Been doing a lot of thinking this afternoon."
"About what?" Simon prompted.
"I realize, now, that I have to let little brother grow up," Jim said solemnly.
Simon's eyebrows arched up. "What brought this on?"
Jim smiled shyly. "It suddenly hit me, Simon. Blair's here because he wants to be."
"Has he said something about leaving?"
"No, sir. It's just that ... it's hard to explain."
"Want to try?"
Jim thought for a minute, trying to put the words together. "I do protect him ... treat him like a kid ... a brother. I hate getting him into potential danger. I hate it when he gets himself into it. I feel this need to protect him. This time ... I could've lost him." Sitting back against the cushions, Jim took a long pull on the bottle in his hand. "He's more than a guide to me, Simon."
"He's your friend, Jim," Simon said plainly. "I hate to admit it, but he's been good for you."
Jim smiled a little at that statement, then said, "A while back Blair told me he had enough information to finish his thesis, but he's been putting it off."
"What?! Why?!"
"He was afraid I wouldn't want him around any more once the paper was done."
Simon silently stared at the detective.
"God, Simon, nothing could be further from the truth!" Jim hesitated, searching for the right words to explain. "For a long time I was afraid that he'd leave once his thesis was finished. When he told me that ... it really made me think. I overlooked the friendship in this relationship."
"Jim, do you really think Sandburg would follow you around like he does if he didn't *want* to?" Simon leaned forward in the chair and fixed a look of consternation at his friend. "He could get what he needs for his thesis in a lab ... doing tests. He'd be safe then, wouldn't he?"
Jim nodded.
"He chose this life, Ellison, all by himself. I don't believe he's ever once looked at you as anything but a friend. You slammed him against a wall the first day you met with him ... no doubt scared the shit out of him ... But, he came back at you and saved your life. You use him as a sounding board. He does your paperwork. You reprimand him short of grounding him for weeks. And Blair Sandburg always returns. He works two full time jobs ... one which he doesn't even get paid for ... and for what?"
"For me," Jim stated quietly.
"Damn straight!" Simon leaned back again and drained his beer.
"Today he told me that I've become his 'stability,' and for the first time in his life he wants to stay put." Jim sighed, "All this time I thought I was protecting him because he needed to get this paper done so he could get his Ph.D."
"And now?"
"He's my partner ... my guide. Hell, he's the shaman of the city, Simon. But, he's my friend ... and I love him like the brother I wish I'd grown up with."
"And it's time to let little brother grow up?"
Jim nodded, "I realize he's going to get hurt. It's hard to deal with, but I can't be with him twenty-four hours. Blair can take care of himself. He's proved that a million and one times, but I wasn't seeing it."
"You two need to talk."
"Yeah, but it'll keep 'til his throat heals."
Simon grinned and sighed, "Hard to live with him, isn't it?"
Jim chuckled, "He's so damn complicated. But, I don't want to live without him."
"Another beer?"
Draining the last of his, Jim stood and headed toward the kitchen. "You got it."
<>~~<>~~<>
end