New
Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles
Who Pays the Price?
by Suzie
Summary: Family members of the Cascade P.D. are being kidnapped.
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: This story is dedicated to my Beta Beast ~ Thanks Jen, for being more patient with me than I am.
Once upon a time everyone was born as a creature with four legs and
arms, and one large head.
Then the Gods got worried that the humans were too strong,
and one-day people were split into two halves.
And now everyone spends their lives trying to find the other half of their
soul.
<> Plato <>
######
It was nearly midnight. The loft was quiet as Jim sat in bed reading. Quiet, except for the restless sounds of his roommate in his downstairs bedroom. Sentinel hearing detected the brush of Blair's body against the sheets as he shifted and turned on the bed.
Soon, Jim thought as he listened. The last time his friend had slept a full, restful night was weeks ago.
A half-hour later, Jim heard the slight creak of the door downstairs, then bare feet padding through the dark loft to the foot of the stairs. A gentle smile played on his lips.
"Jim?" came Blair's soft voice. "Are you still awake?"
"Come on up Chief," Jim called.
A moment later, Blair's sleepy blue eyes looked across the bedroom at Jim from the top step. "I'm sorry Jim, I tried."
"I know you did," Jim said. "C'mon before you get chilled."
Blair shuffled quickly across the room and crawled under the blankets.
"Nightmare?" Jim asked.
Blair shook his head and said, "No. Too dark. Too quiet. It started to remind me of ..."
"Give it time."
"Yeah ... I know." Blair yawned as he snuggled down into the warmth of the large bed and sighed.
"Now, try to sleep," Jim encouraged, as he reached to tuck the blanket in around the younger man's shoulders.
"'Kay."
Jim went back to his book, unconsciously monitoring Blair's slowly relaxing heartbeat and breathing with that part of his brain that was *always* tuned to his Guide. A short time later, Jim set the book aside and flipped the bedside light off. Pushing himself down under the cover, he heard Blair mumble something about bubble gum. Jim chuckled silently as he rested his head into the pillow. Have to ask him about that, he told himself as he drifted into sleep.
**********
It had all started two months earlier. Melissa, the wife of Cascade PD Officer Gerald Kyle was kidnapped on her way home from night school.
One week to the day after the kidnapping, with no leads and no progress in finding Melissa, a note was delivered by a messenger service telling the police the general area where the woman could be found. At the bottom of the typed note was scrawled "Earn your keep". Melissa was found, physically unharmed, in a room of an abandoned house twelve miles from home. She was bound securely to a chair, blindfolded, and gagged. Foam earplugs had been placed in her ears, then covered with several layers of heavy cotton that was held against her ears with ear protection muffs. Melissa had been blindfolded from the start, so she could not give a description of her assailants. However, she had heard their voices before the earplugs were put in place and was positive that one was a man and the other a woman.
It would be a very long time before Melissa would feel safe enough go anywhere alone again.
The entire police force had been up in arms with the situation. Not only were they searching for a family member of one of their own, but also they were worried about their own families. Would it happen again?
It would, and did, happen again.
Two weeks later the younger brother of Officer Richard Taylor was taken, as he stood alone at a bus stop. The note was delivered one week later, and twenty-four year old Dennis was found twelve miles from his home, tied to a chair, gagged, and with his ears covered. He would let no one touch him except his brother.
Two weeks after Dennis Taylor was found the fiancé of Christian Martin in Forensics was taken. Same scenario, when the note was delivered, Kathy Thomas was found in an abandoned house twelve miles away. Kathy was catatonic.
**********
A meeting in the Major Crimes bullpen ~ 8pm. Six hours after the third victim, Kathy Thomas, was found.
"Okay people, What do we have?" Captain Simon Banks asked his team of detectives. "It's the same every time."
Detective Jim Ellison sat at his desk, a dark statement on his face, jaw clenching and unclenching. "The message is delivered by a different service from a different part of the City every time. And the message is *always* given to the service by phone."
"The area where the people are found is *always* exactly twelve miles from the victim's home," Rafe mentioned. "Each victim has been blindfolded too quickly to see the kidnappers, but has said, with the exception of Miss Thomas, that from their voices, there was a man and a woman involved."
"The note is the same every time," Henri Brown said. "Always typed, with that handwritten message at the bottom, 'Earn your keep.' What's that suppose to mean anyway?"
"And what about the victims," Blair chimed in from his perch on top of Jim's desk. "They weren't physically injured, but Dennis Taylor, and Melissa Kyle said that they were shut away in a darkened room with no outside communication. All of the victims were tied up, blindfolded, gagged, and even their hearing shut off ... probably for days on end. Being in that kind of isolation for a length of time ... well ... these people are emotionally devastated right now."
"All right," Simon sighed. "We have a pattern here. Rafe ... Brown, I want you to start checking the database for anything remotely similar to this scenario. See if there's anyone out there that might have a recent grudge against these people and/or the Department."
"We're on it," Rafe said.
"Jim, you and Sandburg check the places where the kidnap victims were eventually found."
"What are we looking for Captain?" Blair asked.
"Anything ... anything at all."
**********
Avery and Roseanne Burr were sitting in their little piece of suburbia having a cup of coffee with their Monday morning danish.
"It'll be two weeks on Friday," Roseanne said solemnly.
"Yeah, I've got the next one picked out," Avery smiled wickedly.
"Who?"
"You'll know soon enough."
"Dad, how long are we going to keep doing this? The police will track us down eventually," Roseanne stated.
"No they won't," Avery said bitterly.
"And why won't you tell me who we're taking? Every time you keep it a secret until just before we do the job. Don't you trust me?"
Avery reached across the table to take one of his daughter's hands in his rough, callused fingers, "Of course I trust you." He stroked the back of the small hand he held, "Rosy ... sweetheart ... after what happened to your mother, you're the *only* one I do trust." Avery's face hardened, and his eyes darkened. "The police *allowed* it to happen. They said they couldn't find her ... but they weren't really trying. They didn't care about your mother. The taxpayers give them a check every month, but they don't earn it." He sighed, "There's just no need for you to know who the person is." The kidnappers didn't care who your mother was.
Roseanne's eyes filled with tears at the sight of her father's anguish.
"*I* had to go find your mother!" Avery continued bitterly. "Cascade's finest couldn't even find her when the kidnappers sent a note, and all but *told* them where to find her! *I* figured out where Norma was!" Exactly twelve miles from home, her head wrapped in gauze. Unable to see, or hear, or even move! Ropes so tight she could barely breathe! "*I* found her ... but it was too late. I lost half my soul that day." Exactly seven days after she was taken!
Roseanne had been just three years old when her mother, Norma Burr, had been kidnapped. Her father sent her to stay with an aunt and uncle in Texas during the investigation and search. It had happened twenty-two years ago, and Roseanne didn't remember anything other then the fun she'd had on her aunt and uncle's farm. She only knew what her father told her, she had no reason to disbelieve him.
"If I'm paying them to 'protect and serve' then, dammit, it's time they earned their keep!"
"Yes, daddy, I understand." Roseanne gently pulled her hand from her father's grasp. "I have to go to work now." She kissed him on the forehead.
"Have a good day honey," Avery smiled, as he pressed a slip of paper into her hand.
Roseanne drove to her job at March Construction, where she worked as a receptionist. Her mind was a whirl of activity.
On their last monthly visit to the hospital in Seattle where Norma Burr had resided for the past twenty-two years, Avery had been devastated to find that his wife no longer knew him. The kidnapping had destroyed her emotionally ... completely. Norma had no desire to *be* ... period. Her husband and doctors had fought to keep her above the abyss as Norma pushed herself to the edge, but she had finally won her years long battle to retreat from the world that had hurt her.
Roseanne saw her father change at that moment. He wanted revenge on those he felt caused this atrocity in his life.
"They took my beloved Norma ... your mother, and threw her away," Avery had said during the drive back to Cascade.
Roseanne had been sad, angry, and confused, but at the time willing to do whatever her father had wanted.
Most of the original police officers and investigators were either retired or had moved on. Avery Burr didn't care, his mind wanted revenge against those that hurt his family. He blamed the entire Cascade Police Department, and they would pay ... one at a time ... for his wife's lost years.
Can I continue? Does it make sense? What will happen if I can't do it anymore? Roseanne thought, as she pulled into the parking lot at work, and parked in her usual space near the back door. She waited, put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, thinking, I have to find another abandoned building twelve miles from ... For the first time she looked at the crumpled piece of paper she still held in her hand, ... 852 Prospect. Roseanne closed her fist around the slip of paper, and whispered to herself, "Oh daddy ... I know you say it's the right thing to do, but it's becoming so hard."
**********
"It'll be two weeks tomorrow," Blair mentioned as he placed his notebooks in his backpack. "You think there'll be another kidnapping?"
Jim picked up his empty plate and went to the kitchen. "Probably. There's no reason to believe there won't be." He rinsed the plate and left it in the sink. "I just wish we had an idea who's next."
"Yeah, it's got everyone *so* jumpy," Blair said, zipping up the pack. "Not that I blame them."
"So how's finals going this week?" Jim asked, nonchalantly changing the subject.
"So far so good. I've got one today, and one tomorrow. Then I'm done for the semester."
"So you'll be at the university all day again?"
"Yeah, I'll be taking finals *and* giving finals to my classes." Then Blair looked at the big detective that stood in the kitchen, "I'll keep my cell phone on though, just in case you need to get hold of me."
Jim smiled affectionately at the younger man, "Okay, take it easy. I'll probably be in and out of the office all day."
Blair nodded, "I'll see ya tonight then."
"Later Chief." Jim watched Blair leave, feeling a sudden nervousness in his stomach.
**********
It was 6:00 Friday evening, and Blair was exhausted. He had taken his last final that morning, then spent the rest of the day giving finals to his classes, as well as for another professor's classes. Jim had called earlier to tell him that he wouldn't be home until around 9pm.
Blair flipped on the light switch for the kitchen, as he dropped his backpack on the floor under the coat hooks. Slipping out of his coat, he yawned mightily as he placed it on a hook. "I've got time for a nap before I start dinner," Blair told himself. With a weary groan, he went to his room and curled up on his bed, asleep almost before his head touched the pillow.
An hour later there was a soft click, and the door to the loft opened slowly. Two figures stole silently into the quiet apartment, dressed in black with ski masks pulled down over their faces.
"You're sure he's here?" Roseanne whispered, as she quietly closed the door.
Avery Burr nodded, as he answered quietly, "I saw him." He put a finger to his lips to indicate she should be quiet, then pointed towards the ceiling.
Roseanne was moving to the stairs that led to the upstairs bedroom when a soft snore, accompanied by a shuffling sound, coming from the darkened room past the kitchen.
Avery signaled his daughter to follow, as he silently walked to the door of the room.
Blair was lying on his side, facing the wall, when two pair of hands grabbed him. Before he realized what was happening, there was something shoved in his mouth, a hood pulled over his head, and something binding his wrists and legs. Blair tried to struggle free, as he felt himself being lifted. He managed to kick whoever had hold of his legs, and he was dropped. The lamp was knocked off the bedside table, its base shattering.
"Shit!" Roseanne gasped, as she fell backwards sending a stack of books, and papers scattering across the floor.
"Rosy!" Avery whispered urgently, trying to hold Blair as he continued to struggle. "You okay hon?"
The young woman got up, rubbing the sore spot on her chest. "Yeah ... I'm fine," she whispered angrily. "He kicks like a mule!"
Avery balled up a fist and struck Blair once across the face.
Stunned, but still conscious, Blair felt a whoosh of cool air as the outside door to the fire escape was opened.
**********
9:15pm. Jim put the key in lock, and immediately noticed it wasn't locked. He listened for any familiar sounds that would tell him Blair was home. No heartbeat, no breathing ... nothing. Blair's car was parked in the lot downstairs; he had parked his truck next to it. An uncomfortable prickling sensation went through the big man, and he gasped quietly.
There's no one here, Jim told himself, but still drew his gun, and quietly opened the door. Maybe he went out with a friend ... to celebrate finals, he tried to tell himself. And forgot to lock up?! I don't think so!
The kitchen light was all that lit the loft, and there was a draft.
Holstering the gun, Jim rushed to Blair's room. Flipping on the switch to the overhead light, his eyes went immediately to the open door. Then he saw the broken lamp, the strewn books and papers. Jim heart beat a quick rhythm all the way up to his throat, and back down to his stomach. For a moment he felt dizzy, and leaned against the door jam. "Dear God ... no," Jim whispered.
**********
Blair was dumped unceremoniously on the floor with a bruising thump. He sat very still; listening as the two people moved silently around him, loosening the cord that held his wrists. Then the door clicked shut, and they were gone.
After pulling his wrists free of the cord, Blair yanked the hood off his head, and the gag from his mouth. The room was dark, save the crack of dim light that shone under the door. Quickly untying his legs, Blair went to the door, but it was locked. The switch next to the door didn't work.
"Big surprise Sandburg," he sighed quietly.
Blair made his way around the room, as his eyes adjusted to the blackness. Concrete floor, no furniture, and no window. He found a closet-sized room off to one side, just big enough for the toilet and small sink it contained. Turning the faucet on, he was relieved to feel the rush of water over his hand. Blair splashed water over his face, wincing as he touched the bruise on his cheek, and ran wet fingers through his hair. There was no towel, but he didn't care. Finding a switch next to the doorless opening, Blair tried flipping it several times, but nothing happened.
"Okay ... don't panic," Blair whispered, as he went back to the main room. "Don't need light. There's nothing to see anyway." It suddenly felt cold and damp in the room, and un-naturally quiet. Feeling his way along the wall, Blair finally sank to the floor with his back to one corner facing the door. "This can't be happening."
**********
Jim stormed into Major Crimes, and straight into Captain Banks' office.
"Jim?" Simon asked, as he looked up from his paperwork. "I thought you went home." He quickly noted the rage, and fear reflected in the big detective's features. "What's happened?!"
"Sandburg!" Jim said with barely contained fury. "He's been taken!"
Simon immediately grabbed the phone on his desk.
Jim turned his back, and leaned on his hands over the table, closing his eyes.
"... and get forensics over to 852 Prospect ... NOW!" Simon slammed the phone down. "C'mon Jim, let's go." He snatched his coat up, noticing the detective hadn't moved. "Jim?" Simon stepped over, placing a hand on Jim's back, "We'll find him, don't worry."
"Oh God Simon," Jim choked quietly. "Blair can't be shut away ... have all his senses cut off. You know him ... what if he ends up like Kathy Thomas?"
Simon pulled Jim around to face him, giving him a stern look. "Now look Ellison, Sandburg is strong! He's a survivor!" he said, trying to convince himself as well as Jim. "He'll make it ... we *both* know that."
Jim took a deep breath, calming some with the Captain's words, "Yeah ... yeah, I know."
"Okay, let's go back to the loft. Forensics will meet us there."
**********
Blair lost track of time; there was no way to distinguish day from night. The light under the door never changed. The darkness in the room never changed. The *silence* never changed.
To minimize contact with their prisoner, Blair was brought food once a day. Every morning Roseanne pulled the black ski mask over her head before taking the tray down to the concrete basement room. Avery stood ready just outside in case of trouble.
Roseanne hated watching the daily fight for sanity that occurred with each person they had taken. She didn't think she could survive being closed off from the world in a darkened, silent, cold room. Roseanne hated hearing the desperation in their voices. The questions had all been the same.
"What day is it?" Blair would ask. "How long have I been here? When can I leave?"
But the tray was left, and he received no reply. Blair would pace the ten-foot by ten-foot room, trying to distract himself by thinking up tests for Jim's Sentinel abilities. Or he would lie, shivering on the cold cement floor, telling himself, "Jim will find me. He'll find me ... and take me home where I can get warm."
**********
Jim paced the bullpen, unable to sit still. "It's been five damn days!" he growled.
"Jim, why don't you go home? Get some rest," Simon sighed. "You haven't slept since Sandburg disappeared."
"There's no reason for me to be there. Forensics didn't find anything ... *I* didn't find anything. Just like at all the other scenes ... there was nothing to find." Jim stopped, and looked around at the people sitting in the bullpen. "It's too quiet there ... I can't sleep." There's no chatter ... no constant scribbling, or keyboard tapping, or ... heartbeat. Jim resumed his pacing.
Simon picked up Jim's jacket, handed it to him, saying, "Come on, we're going back to the loft."
"Simon ...," Jim began to argue.
"This is an order Ellison. That note will be delivered soon, and you should be there when it is." Simon turned briefly to Rafe and Brown, "Keep me informed."
The two detectives nodded silently.
"We still have people searching a twelve mile radius ... right?"
"Yes, of course." The Captain pulled Jim towards the elevators. "Let's go."
Jim pulled away from Simon's grip, "No ... I'm going back out. I can find him."
"Damn it Jim! We've driven the area every day, and you haven't been able to sense anything. They obviously haven't moved the kid into the area yet." The elevator doors opened, and Simon gently pushed the other man inside. "I'm taking you home."
It's not home without Blair.
**********
Avery pulled on the ski mask as Roseanne walked into the kitchen. She'd just got home from work. "It's time, go change while I get him ready."
Blair heard the door open, as he always did, but he'd stopped responding to the sound. He just lay there shivering. He'd quit eating after the third day. The silence, the lack of human companionship, and the darkness had all taken a toll on the young man's psyche. It was getting harder to cling to reality.
This is what Avery Burr wanted. It had been the same with the others, in varying degrees. Silently, he pulled Blair up to a sitting position against the wall.
"No," Blair mumbled. "Don't touch me." But he didn't struggle. "Jim is coming ... soon."
Avery pushed foam earplugs into Blair's ears, a wad of cotton gauze into his mouth, wrapped a scarf around his head to hold it in place. A heavy piece of material was wrapped around Blair's eyes, and over his ears. Then a set of ear protection muffs was placed over his ears. Avery tied Blair's wrists behind him, then hoisted him to his feet to be led out into the night.
Roseanne met them at her father's van. Avery pushed Blair inside, and down onto the floor where he threw an old wool blanket over the prone figure.
He then handed the keys to Roseanne, saying, "You drive."
Roseanne took the keys, and silently got into the van.
**********
The last two days were spent at the loft ... waiting. Simon insisted on staying with Jim, running the operation mostly over the telephone.
It had been day seven for six hours, fifty-six minutes. Jim still hadn't slept, and was now sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed, wondering if it would be worth it to take a shower.
A loud knocking at the door brought Captain Banks off the sofa in the living room. "Who is it?"
"Umm ... Grover Messenger Service," a young voice said from the hallway.
Jim flew down the stairs, and was at the door before Simon could move beyond the sofa. Yanking the door open, Jim faced a kid that couldn't have been more than nineteen years old.
"I have a letter for Detective James Ellison."
"I'm Ellison!" Jim said, trying to stay calm.
An envelope was produced from the satchel the boy was carrying. Jim snatched it away, moving into the living room.
"HEY! You gotta sign for that man!" the delivery boy cried.
Simon stepped over, "I'll do it." After signing for the letter, he handed the kid a five-dollar-bill, and closed the door.
"It says we'll find him between the 700 block and the 800 block," Jim stated flatly.
"What?" Simon moved to read the note Jim held. "North, south, east, west?"
"Doesn't say."
"Okay ... we find out which blocks are within that magic twelve mile zone."
"I'll get a map sir," Jim said, moving quickly to go back upstairs.
**********
When Jim entered the house he already knew Blair was there. He could hear his partner's heart beating and smell the fear.
"Captain, I've found Sandburg," Jim said into the radio.
"Is he alright Jim?" Simon asked.
"I haven't gotten to him yet, but he's alive," Jim said, as he made his way carefully through the house to the back bedroom.
"Wait for backup then!" Simon barked.
"Too late sir. Besides I already did a sweep ... there's no one else here."
"Jim ..."
"I can't wait Simon."
Jim found the door unlocked, and pushed it open. He quickly located Blair in the middle of the room.
Blair sat in the straight back, wooden chair. Thick rope around his arms, chest, lap, and legs kept him from moving. A heavy black blindfold covered his eyes, a scarf held the cotton gag in place, and his ears were covered to shut out any and all sound.
Holstering his gun, Jim quickly moved to Blair's side. "It's okay now buddy, I'm here," he said, though he knew his friend couldn't hear him.
Jim reached to uncover Blair's eyes so he could see that he was safe, but the young man flinched, letting a barely audible whimper out from behind the gag. His heart began to race wildly and his breathing quickened to a point that scared Jim, and he began to shake with anger, fear, and the effort it took to keep himself in check.
The blindfold slid off easily and Blair blinked quickly, trying to focus. Jim watched as Blair's eyes went from unfocused terror to fill with tears of relief. The big man worked as quickly as possible to rid his friend of the ear coverings and plugs.
"It's alright now, Chief. You're safe," Jim started as soon as he knew Blair could hear him. "It's over. You're safe now. You're gonna be okay."
Blair was crying in great sobbing gasps as the gag was pulled away. He began to strain against the ropes, as Jim pulled his knife out.
"Nono, sit still," Jim told him gently. "I'll have you free in just a minute."
"Nownownow!" Blair sobbed hysterically, twisting his arms under the robes. "Please Jim ..."
Jim dropped the knife to the floor and quickly took Blair's tear streaked face in his big hands. "Blair ... stop!" he said, trying to keep his voice calm and low. He gently brought Blair's face up to look at him, "You've got to sit still or you're going to hurt yourself. I'll have you free in just one minute, okay?"
Blair sobbed and sniffled as he looked at his Sentinel with huge, wet eyes. "Okay ... but hurry ... please," he choked out.
"I will buddy," Jim whispered as he let go of Blair's face to kneel, as he reached for the knife. "I will."
Jim fell silent as he worked at the ropes, and Blair began to whimper again.
"What is it Chief? Am I hurting you?" Jim asked, concerned.
"Too ... quiet," Blair's voice trembled. "Talk ... to me."
A tear coursed down Jim's cheek as he began a litany of words and continued cutting the ropes.
As soon as Blair was free of the restraints, he launched himself at Jim, wrapping his entire shaking body around the big man.
Jim sat back on the floor with an oof, instantly holding tight with no intentions of letting go. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered as he held the violently shaking young man. "It's over now. You're safe."
Blair clung to Jim fiercely as he straddled his lap. He was afraid that if he let go, Jim would disappear. That this would be a dream, and he couldn't take being that alone again. "Don'tleaveme! Don'tleaveme!" Blair cried softly as he buried his face in Jim's shoulder.
"I'm right here, Chief. I'm not going anywhere without you."
"Jim?" Simon's voice came from the door behind him.
"Did you call an ambulance?" Jim asked. He felt Blair tense against him. "Shh, it's alright. I won't leave you alone."
"Yeah, it's on the way," Simon answered softly. "Is he alright?"
"He'll be fine," Jim said quietly.
After several minutes more Blair started to settle down a bit. Jim could feel him relax ever so slightly, though he was still shaking.
"Hey buddy," Jim whispered as he pushed the hair from Blair's face. "Why don't we get outta here?"
Blair nodded against Jim's shoulder.
"Okay, can you stand up?"
Blair pushed away just enough to allow himself to stand, but one hand kept a tight grip on Jim's jacket. Jim scooted himself out from under Blair and stood, being careful not too pull away. Blair's arms went around Jim's waist as soon as they were both on their feet.
Jim's arms wrapped snuggly about the smaller man. "Let's go outside and wait for our ride."
As they walked out the front door of the house the ambulance pulled up to the curb.
"H," Jim called to the detective. "Tell them no stretcher."
"Right," Henri replied, as he jogged off towards the ambulance.
Jim led Blair to the back of the vehicle and managed to gently pull Blair's arms from around his waist. "Let's get in Chief."
Blair looked up at Jim with wide frightened eyes.
"It's okay Blair, I'm going with you."
One of the ambulance attendants reached out to help Blair inside, but the young man shied back into Jim. The attendant pulled back, as he realized what was happening.
"It's okay," Jim soothed. "He's one of the good guys."
"Don't want anyone to touch me," Blair whispered, hanging onto the big man's wrist. "Only you."
Oh God! "Let's get in Chief."
Blair stepped up into the ambulance, but never let go of Jim's wrist. They sat side by side on the stretcher, as a paramedic entered to sit across from them.
"Hi Mac," Jim said in greeting to his friend.
"Hey Jim," Mac smiled, retrieving a blood pressure cuff from his med box. "My name's Mackenzie, but you can call me Mac. Everyone does," he said casually. "What's your name?"
Blair pushed against Jim's side. If he could have crawled inside the big man's jacket, he would have. "Bl-Blair ... Sandburg." He knew he was safe ... now, but his mind was still screaming hysterically.
"Can I take your pulse, and blood pressure?"
Blair looked up at Jim, who nodded slowly. "Umm ... okay," Blair said, looking back at Mac.
Mac smiled, "Good ... let's start with a pulse?" He carefully took Blair's wrist, feeling him tense. "Does it hurt?"
Blair shook his head.
"Does it bother you that I'm touching you?"
Blair nodded slowly, "It-it's not *you*, it's just ... my mind is really ... why can't I stop shaking?"
"It's alright Blair," Mac soothed, releasing Blair's wrist. "You're reacting to the situation. It's normal. Would you rather Jim here take your pulse?"
Jim gently rubbed a big hand over Blair's trembling back, feeling the racing heartbeat, "Mac's a friend of mine Chief. He wouldn't hurt you."
"I know, he's one of the good guys," Blair whispered. He held his arm out to the medic, "It's ... okay. I trust you if Jim does."
"Thanks Blair, that means a lot right now. But, you let me know if things get to be too much, alright?"
"'Kay," Blair managed through gritted teeth.
Mac took the pulse as quickly as possible, then asked permission to take Blair's blood pressure.
Blair nodded silently, but when the cuff tightened around his arm he flashed to being tied to that chair, and realized he couldn't do it. "Take it off please!" he sobbed. "I can't ... I'm sorry."
"Alright," Mac said, as he quickly removing the blood pressure cuff. "Not a problem."
Jim wrapped his big solid arms around Blair and pulled him close, "S'okay Chief."
"Blair?" Mac said, and waited for the young man to look at him. "Blair, can I give you a sedative?"
Blair stared at him.
"It's just a mild one. Won't put you to sleep, just let you relax a little."
Blair looked up at Jim.
"I think it would be a good idea buddy."
Blair looked back at Mac and nodded slightly.
**********
After a thorough examination at the hospital, Jim was able to take Blair home. Physically Blair only had a bruised cheek, and some sore spots from the ropes. He needed to eat, and he was dehydrated. But emotionally ... well, it would take some time.
Blair had curled up on the sofa even before Jim had the door closed. He was wearing Jim's jacket, and didn't seem too willing to give it up.
"Tired Chief? Want to sleep a little bit?" Jim asked quietly, as he pulled Blair's shoes off. "Or you want something to eat?"
"Wanna sleep. Can I stay out here?" Blair asked.
"No problem," Jim smiled, pulling the afghan from the back of the sofa to cover him. "I'm just going to lay down over here, okay?" He indicated the loveseat.
Blair started to get up.
"Whoa there, what's wrong?"
"You lay here ... it's longer," Blair said groggily.
Not wanting to argue, Jim let him shuffle to the loveseat and lay down. "Okay now?"
"Yeah Jim, thanks."
**********
"How'd it go last night, Jim?" Simon asked when the detective entered the Captain's office.
"Not good. Blair wouldn't sleep in his room last night ... wouldn't go in for any reason. I had to get his clothes for him." Jim watched the bullpen for his friend's return from the men's room.
"Did either of you sleep?"
Jim shrugged, "On the sofa, between nightmares ... with the lights on."
Simon's worried frown deepened, "Has he said anything about what happened?"
"No, not yet. My guess is he doesn't want to repeat the story more than once."
Blair walked into the bullpen, a look of horror on his face when he saw Jim missing from his desk.
"Damn," Jim whispered when saw him. Pulling the office door open, he called, "I'm in here Chief."
It took everything Blair had *not* to run into Simon's office.
"Okay buddy?" Jim asked, hearing the thundering beat in his friend's chest.
"Um ... yeah," Blair replied a little breathlessly. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Blair?" Simon began. "Are you up to talking about it?"
Jim guided his Guide to the sofa, and gently pushed him down into it.
NO! Blair swallowed hard, "I ... ah ... I don't have a choice."
"Yes you do, Blair," Simon corrected softly. "If you can't do this right now, it can wait until you *are* ready."
Blair looked at the Captain for a moment, then said, "No ... if I can stop it from happening again, or at least bring it closer to an end ... then I have to do this ... *now*.
"Just remember, it's your choice here Chief," Jim said. "Anytime you want to stop, just say the word."
Blair nodded, managing a small smile for his friend and Sentinel.
"Okay if I record this?" Simon asked.
"You better," Blair said. "I don't want to do it again."
Simon nodded, pointing to the recorder on the table.
Jim clicked it on, "Whenever you're ready Blair."
Blair rubbed his hands over his face, he was shaking already. "Okay ... um ... I got home about 6pm. I knew Jim was gonna be late, and I was really tired from a week of finals, so I went in my room to lay down before I started something to eat." Blair took a deep breath before continuing, "I don't know how long it was ... I'd fallen asleep ... it all happened so fast."
"Take your time," Simon said.
"I felt someone grab me ... something got shoved in my mouth ... they covered my head with something ... tied me up."
"They? How many?" Jim asked. They took him out of his own bedroom! No wonder he doesn't want to go in there, he thought, keeping his statement unchanged with some effort.
"Oh ... ah ... two. I remember hearing two people. A man, and a woman."
"Did they say anything to you?" Simon asked.
"No, I managed to kick one of them ...," Blair's voice trailed off as if he were thinking.
Jim recognized the look. "What is it? What do you remember?"
"Rosy," Blair looked up at Jim. "He called her Rosy. And he called her 'hon' ... like you would call a wife or daughter" He unconsciously rubbed the faded bruise on his cheek. "He sounded mad ... he hit me."
Jim's jaw clenched tight.
"Guess I was kinda dazed ... I don't remember much until they dumped me in the room."
"Can you describe this room?" Simon asked.
Blair shivered, "Cold ... it was all concrete. No windows, no furniture ..." His voice faded to a whisper, "No light, no sound ... it was so cold." Blair wrapped his arms around himself. "I was alone."
Jim sat on the sofa next to Blair, "You're not alone now buddy."
Blair looked into Sentinel blue eyes, pulling strength from the man's presence, "I know Jim." He turned back to Simon, "There was a toilet, and a sink. Someone brought food once in awhile, but they always wore a mask ... and never spoke."
"Do you know how long you were there?"
Blair shook his head, "I never had a sense of time." His heartrate picked up, and he started breathing faster. "I was ... it was ... so dark, and quiet!"
"Easy Blair," Jim said soothingly. "You're doing fine."
"Um ... can I have something to drink? Maybe some tea?"
"Sure, anything you want," Simon replied. He picked up the phone and asked Rhonda to take care of it. "Do you want to take a break here?" Simon asked after setting the phone down.
"Um ... maybe a couple minutes?"
"Take your time Blair."
After Rhonda brought in the tea, and Blair was settled down a little, Jim asked, "Can you tell us how many times they brought in food?"
Blair sipped the hot liquid gratefully, frowning as he tried to think. "Um ... five?" Another sip, "Yeah ... I remember five trays. Then someone came in and ... and ..." Blair began to shake harder.
Jim eased the mug from Blair's grip.
"I didn't think it could get any worse ... but then they moved me to ...," Blair frowned, tears in his eyes. "I don't know where ..." He stared down at the floor. "They tied me so I couldn't move at all! I couldn't see, I couldn't hear ... nothing!"
Jim set the mug aside and pulled Blair tight to his side.
Blair's head fell onto Jim's shoulder as he sobbed, "Oh God! I was *sooo* alone!"
Jim reached over and turned off the recorder. "Okay, that's enough for now," he said, looking for confirmation from Simon.
Simon nodded, "You did good Blair. If you remember anything else you can tell us later, okay?"
Blair straightened, but stayed in contact with Jim, "Yes sir."
Simon stood, gathered papers into his briefcase, "I have a meeting with Chief Warren." He closed the case, and started for the door, saying, "I need the reports on this Jim." Simon turned, hand on the doorknob, "Use my office if you want the privacy." Then he was gone.
"I didn't help much did I?" Blair sighed. "I don't remember any more than any of the others did."
Jim handed Blair the still warm mug of tea, "You gave us a name."
"'Rosy' isn't much to go on Jim," Blair said softly, settling back in the cushion.
"But it is a start Chief. We can ask Melissa Kyle, and Dennis Taylor about the name. Could jog their memories somehow."
"Think so?"
Jim patted Blair on the knee, smiling slightly at the hopeful sound in Blair's voice, "I do think so. How 'bout we get started on those reports for Simon?"
"Yeah ... okay."
**********
The last two weeks had been hard on both Jim and Blair. After two nights Jim refused to spend another night on the sofa, but he knew Blair couldn't be alone downstairs. So they moved up to Jim's bed, it was only temporary, and they both took comfort in the others presence. And they both started sleeping better once they were lying on a real mattress instead of the lumpy cushions of the sofa and loveseat.
It had taken a week before Jim had gotten Blair to go into his room at all, but he still wouldn't do it alone. Last night was the first time Blair had tried to sleep in his room. Though the attempt had been unsuccessful, he *had* tried.
It was early morning, and Jim had been dreaming, reliving that day he'd found his partner tied to the chair. With a start Jim awoke to the sounds of soft sobbing, and moaning, but he wasn't dreaming anymore. He quickly rolled over to find Blair trapped in the confines of the blankets he had wrapped tightly around him. Quickly, and gently, Jim began to untangle his Guide. "C'mon Chief, time to wake up," he said calmly.
Blair tried to pull away. "Noooo!" he moaned quietly.
Jim unwrapped the young man, and shook him gently, "Wake up Blair, you're dreaming. You're safe."
Blair gasped as he came awake, staring up at his Sentinel.
"It's okay Chief," Jim said, reaching to turn on the bedside lamp. "It's me. You're safe here."
The sleepy, unfocused fear left Blair's eyes. "Jim? I was dreaming ..." He pushed himself up to sit against the headboard of the bed.
"I know. You were tangled up tight in the blankets."
Blair pushed his hands through his tousled hair, "Jim?"
"Hmmm?"
"It's been two weeks today."
"Yeah I know," Jim replied. I had hoped you wouldn't be keeping track.
"It's going to happen again," Blair said quietly.
Jim only nodded. But not to you.
"I think we should go to the station today," Blair said.
"You think you're ready?"
"I need to get outta here, Jim."
"Blair, don't rush things."
"I'm not. Because of me you're running out of vacation time. You need to get back to work, and I need to do something ... to help. I don't need a babysitter man, but ... I'm just not quite ready to be ... um, alone. At least at the station I'll be around people I know, and trust."
"Okay, we'll go in today." Jim stood up, grabbing his robe, "I'll get your clothes together."
"No Jim," Blair said resolutely. "I'm gonna get my own stuff today."
Jim smiled as he led the way down the stairs. He's taking a big step here. "Hey Blair?"
"Yeah Jim?"
"Last night ... just after I turned the lights off." Jim stopped at the bottom, and turned to look at his partner. "You were talking in your sleep, and ..."
A worried looked passed over Blair's face. "What did I say?!"
"Well, I'm not sure, but it had something to do with ... bubble gum."
Blair turned bright red, and pushed by the detective to march purposefully into the kitchen. "Don't go there Jim! Just ... don't go there, okay?!" He picked up the coffeepot, and moved to the sink.
Jim moved up beside Blair, taking the pot with a grin, and said, "Get your stuff Chief. You can shower first."
Blair relinquished his hold, and taking a deep breath, went to face his bedroom. I can do this.
"You can do it buddy," Jim said encouragingly, as he followed Blair out of the kitchen.
Blair went to the doorway of his room, reached in to flip on the light switch, and let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding when the light came on.
Jim stood by at the table, watching with senses open for any sign of panic from the young man.
I can do this, Blair told himself, as he stepped inside the room.
**********
"Hairboy! Jim! Good to have you guys back!" Henri Brown grinned, as his two friends walked into Major Crimes. "How you feelin' Blair?"
"Hey Henri, good to be back," Blair said with a smile. "I'm feeling fine."
"How's it going H?" Jim asked.
"Not too bad. Still playin' the waiting game," Henri answered.
"Simon in his office?"
"Yep, and he'll be glad to see you."
Jim turned to Blair, "Why don't you get us some coffee, and I'll meet you in Simon's office."
"'Kay," Blair replied, then walked towards the break room.
"How's he really doing Jim?" Henri asked, concerned.
Jim smiled, watching Blair disappear around the corner. "He went into his room this morning ... by himself."
"That's great," Henri grinned happily.
"Just gonna take some time."
Jim walked through the bullpen to the Captain's office. He could hear that Simon was on the phone, so he knocked softly before poking his head.
The Captain waved his Detective inside, saying into the receiver, "Yes sir, we *are* doing our best on this ... yes ... no sir ... yes sir, goodbye sir." Simon dropped the phone into its cradle with a sigh, then grinned at Jim, "Hey, welcome back!"
"Thank you sir," Jim smiled, leaning on the table.
"Where's Blair? You didn't leave him home did you?"
"No, he's getting some coffee. He went into his room this morning ... by himself," Jim said with a touch of pride in his voice.
Simon smiled fondly, "Great! That's a big step!" His statement sobered slightly, "Have you discussed his going to the department psychiatrist?"
"We've talked about it, but he doesn't want to yet, and I don't want to push. He doesn't like talking about it, but I think he'll go ... in his own time."
"Good ... good. The kid is handling it well ... on the outside anyway. But I don't want to have to *order* him to see the psychiatrist."
"I don't think it'll come to that sir." Jim sensed his partner walking through the bullpen, and went to the door to open it.
"Here ya go Jim," Blair said, as he handed a mug to Jim and stepped inside the office. "Morning Captain."
"Morning Sandburg, nice to see you back with us," Simon said sincerely.
"Thanks. I ..." Blair glanced at Jim. "... We needed to get out of the loft."
"A little cabin fever, huh?"
Both Jim and Blair nodded.
**********
The call came that evening, after dinner. Jim reached for the phone before it could wake Blair, who was snoozing on the sofa.
"Carla Wallace was taken from the parking lot at the mall," Simon said hurriedly into the phone. "But this time we have a witness. I'll meet you at the station."
"We'll be there in a few minutes Simon." Jim hung up the phone, and went to the sofa where Blair had fallen asleep. "Hey Chief," he called quietly, giving the young man a gentle shake.
"Huh? What?" Blair yawned, and stretched.
"Gotta go to the station."
Blair froze, his eyes suddenly wide, "It's happened?"
Jim nodded.
**********
Roseanne yanked the mask off of her head, throwing it down on the kitchen table. "That's it, we're done!" Thank God!
"It's not over yet," Avery said, as he locked the basement door.
"Dad, we were seen kidnapping that woman!" Roseanne nearly shouted.
"Calm down Rosy. What did he see? Two people in ski masks, wearing dark clothes ... not much of a description to go with." Avery took a beer from the refrigerator, and sat down at the table.
"What if he saw us drive away?! What if he got our license?! No dad, this is it! I'm finished!" Roseanne couldn't believe what she was saying.
Avery looked up at his daughter, "You can't mean that? What about your mother?"
"What about her?! Do you *really* think mom would want this?!"
"Do you think she *wanted* what was done to her?!" Avery said angrily.
Roseanne took a deep breath, sitting in the chair next to her father. "Daddy ... mom isn't with us anymore. She's lost to us now, and we can't do anything to change that," she said quietly.
"The Cascade Police have to pay!"
"This is number five! How many will it take to accomplish this 'payment'?!"
Avery looked into the young woman's eyes with a burning that she'd never seen before, and said, "All of them ... ever last one. Because of them I have only half a soul ... and half of what's left belongs to you."
Roseanne felt sorrow, and fear at that moment. Something snapped.
**********
Rafe took notes, as he and Henri questioned Anthony Eagleton in the small conference room. He had seen too little of the kidnappers themselves to give a description, but he saw the one thing that no one else had. The van the perps were driving, and a license number ... or at least a partial.
"I sent the partial plate to be run," Rafe told the Captain when he and Henri reported to Simon's office.
"Good," Simon grunted.
"I'd like to talk to him," Jim said.
"No Jim," Simon said flatly.
"We let Mr. Eagleton go home anyway," Henri said.
"Let him go home?!" Jim asked. "I ..."
"Jim!" Simon interrupted, glancing at Blair sitting at the computer at Jim's desk. "After what happened with Sandburg, I shouldn't even let you continue with this case. But, I know you too well, and at least when you're on the team I can keep an eye on you."
Jim looked out at Blair, "Yes sir."
Simon nodded; satisfied that Jim would behave himself ... for now. "Alright, we'll have the information on the plate in a few hours, then we can get to work. Let's all go home, and get some rest while we can."
As Jim walked out to his desk, he realized that Blair wasn't as intent on the computer as he'd thought. He was asleep; his head propped up in one hand. Jim looked at his watch to discover it was 1am.
**********
6am ~ Simon's office.
"All right," the Captain said, as he passed a sheet of paper to Jim, Blair, Rafe, and Henri Brown. "This is what we got from the partial plate. I had the list sorted so that ..." The phone on the desk rang, interrupting him. "Talk to me," Simon growled into the receiver.
"Sir, I have a caller who says she know where Carla Wallace is," the dispatch operator said.
"Get a trace on it, and put it through!" Simon snapped, pressing the button to put the call on the speaker.
"Hello?" a timid voice asked.
"Who is this? Simon asked.
"I called to tell you where she's hidden."
"Where who's hidden?"
"The woman we kidnapped yesterday."
Blair suddenly recognized the voice. He paled, and gripped Jim's arm.
"Hey Chief," Jim whispered, concerned. He backed his partner into a chair, and knelt down in front of him, "Sit down here. What's wrong?"
"What's your name?" Simon asked.
"Rosy," Blair whispered.
"Um ... Roseanne," the woman said.
"Is that one of them?" Jim asked Blair.
Blair nodded.
"What's your last name Roseanne?" Simon tried.
Roseanne was suddenly nervous, agitated, "Do want this information or not?!"
"Yes Roseanne, why don't you tell me where Carla Wallace is."
"Is that her name? Carla Wallace?" Roseanne asked quietly.
"Yes it is. Where is she Roseanne?"
"She looks like my mother did. The way I remember her when I was little."
"Roseanne, where ..."
"5421 Sampson Drive NE. There's a door to the basement in the kitchen. That's where you'll find her," Roseanne said quickly, then hung up.
Henri scanned down his list, then said, "Here it is. A van registered to Avery Burr."
"Okay people, let's move," Simon said. "I'll check on the trace, and let you know."
**********
It was over. Carla Wallace was found unharmed in the concrete basement.
Jim stood alone in the middle of the room when he sensed his Guide at the basement door, could hear his pounding heart. "Blair, go upstairs," Jim told him.
Blair didn't hear him. He stood with one hand clutching the doorframe. Though there was light filtering down from the kitchen the concrete room was still dark ... it was damp ... it was silent ... like he remembered. Like he wanted to forget.
Jim crossed the small room to stand in front of Blair. He gently forced the hand from the doorframe, saying quietly, "There's no reason for you to be down here Chief. Wait for me upstairs."
"Jim," Blair finally choked out. "Come with me. I don't want you to be down here."
"I just need a minute, then I'll be up, okay?"
Blair looked at his watch, then up at his Sentinel, "Okay, but I'm timing you for one minute, and not a second more."
"Fair enough. Now go."
Blair reluctantly turned and hurried up the steps.
Jim sighed, as he watched him go. Then reached for the door, closing it, but not letting it latch. Turning, Jim stared into the darkness, purposely keeping his senses turned down to normal. The room quickly became oppressive, and he shivered at the thought of what the Burr's victims had gone through. Then Jim became angry at the thought of what Blair had been through.
**********
Upstairs Blair slid into a chair at the kitchen table. He was shaking. He tried to control his breathing so as not to panic, and he lowered his head to rest against one arm on the tabletop.
"Hey ... Sandburg," an unfamiliar voice called.
Blair raised his head, looking across the table to see Avery Burr looking back. Blair's eyes narrowed around darkened pupils.
"How did it feel?" Avery asked. His wrists were handcuffed behind him, and he leaned across the table to get as close as he could to Blair. "How did it feel to be closed off? Was the silence ... deafening?"
Blair sat back in the chair, anger suddenly surging within him, "Why?"
Avery settled back against his cuffed arms, and smiled, "I just want to know what it was like to be pushed to the edge."
"Or over it?"
The older man nodded, "Or over it."
Blair stared fixedly at the man across from him, "It wasn't fun."
Avery's smile widened to a grin, "Good."
"Why?! Why did you do this to me?! Why did you do it to any of us?!" Blair questioned sadly, trying to keep the anger in check.
Avery's face sobered, his features darkened with rage. "It was time the police earned their keep!"
Jim sprinted up the steps to the kitchen. When he let his sense come back up, the first thing he'd heard was his Guide's voice, and the fear in it.
"I wanted them to prove to me they're worth the money they get from the taxpayers! But, they couldn't do it then ... and they can't do it now! It's like they're biting the hand that feeds them!"
"Do what?!" Blair demanded, as angry tears began to spill down his face..
"GET HIM THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!" Jim raged at the two officers that were standing in the kitchen watching the exchange.
"NO!" Blair cried, standing as the two moved forward. "What did *I* do to you?!" he demanded again.
"It's what *they* didn't do!" Avery said, nodding at the police officers, then at Jim. "It was exactly like it was twenty-two years ago when they couldn't find my wife! They didn't try! They didn't care!"
"So ... you thought you'd do to the cops what was done to you and your wife?!"
Jim stepped forward, grabbing Avery roughly by the arm, and pulled him to his feet.
"Exactly!" Avery shouted. "With *all* the people the City of Cascade hires to 'protect and serve', they couldn't deal ..."
Jim shoved Avery toward the two awe struck officers, cutting the stream of words off with, "Get Him Out Of My Sight!! NOW!!!" He turned back to see the color drain from Blair's face. "Chief?" Jim moved quickly around to catch the collapsing figure, and set him down in the chair. "Just breathe buddy. Deep breaths."
Blair did as he was told, dragging in deep, shaking breaths as he gripped Jim's upper arms.
"What the hell possessed you to do that Chief?" Worry replacing the anger in his blue eyes.
"I ... wanted to ... know ... why," Blair whispered in a trembling voice, as he tried to calm his breathing. "Jim, I know ... I shouldn't have ..."
"Shh," Jim interrupted. "It's alright now."
Simon appeared at the kitchen door, "Jim? Everything okay here?" His voice was deep with concern.
"Yes sir, everything is fine."
**********
Jim waited until the patrol car drove away with Avery Burr, then ushered Blair to the truck. "You wait here. I'm going to talk to Simon for a minute."
Blair's fingers tightened around the material of Jim's sleeve he'd been holding.
"It's all right Chief," Jim pointed to where Simon was standing. "I'll be right over there. You'll be able to see me, and I'll hear you if you need me back here."
"Jim? Do you think the Captain would mind calling that doctor ... maybe make an appointment for me?" Blair whispered.
Jim smiled slightly, patting the hand that held his arm, "I'm positive he won't mind buddy. I'll let him know, okay?"
Blair managed a sad smile, then released the sleeve, "Thanks."
"How is he Jim?" Simon asked when the detective joined him.
"He wants to go talk to the department psychiatrist," Jim answered.
"I'll call, and make the appointment myself."
"Thank you sir," Jim said gratefully. "What about the trace?"
"The call came from March Construction. It was Roseanne Burr, Avery's daughter."
"So we've got both of them?"
Simon shook his head, "Nope, her boss told us that she made a phone call, then left in a hurry with no explanation. We've got an APB out on her."
**********
Roseanne drove to Seattle after her phone call to the Cascade PD. She went directly to the hospital where her mother was.
"Hi," Roseanne smiled at the receptionist. "I'd like to make arrangements to take my mother out please."
"And your mother is?" the woman behind the desk asked. What a nice thing to see her come to take her mother out for the day.
"Burr ... Norma Burr. I'm sorry for not notifying you before I came, but I just decided to take the day off."
The receptionist smiled, "That's quite alright. Why don't you go wait with your mother while I do the paperwork? It'll only be a few minutes."
Roseanne sat on the edge of Norma Burr's bed, stroking the older woman's hand gently between her own. "It's over mama. No more people will suffer like you have." She gently kissed her mother's cheek, and whispered, "I wish we could've moved here to be with you more, but Dad wouldn't leave Cascade. I never understood why until he started planning the kidnappings. Daddy was wrong ... but he didn't mean it. He just wanted them to understand what he'd gone through." Roseanne sighed, "We're going away mama ... just you and me. I'm taking you home."
Norma Burr did not seem to react to her daughter's presence. But Roseanne thought she could see a bit of the dullness leave her mother's eyes. Daddy's lost half.
<>~~<>~~<>
end