New
Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles
Still Working Late
by Suzie
Summary: You requested it, so here it is! The extended ending to Working Late. ;-)
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: You really need to read Working Late to know what's going on here. And remember ... this all started with a toothache. :-) Okay, I decided that lynching was *not* something I would enjoy. So I took Shellie's and Jen's *advise* (gentle threats? <EG>), and am giving this PWP a little more P. After all they were the first to scream, and simultaneously with great harmony I might add, 'Needs More!" <G> A part of this I got from an incident I read in the newspaper. Thanks, Jen, for the "Ice blue eyes blazed with cold fire ..." part.
Surgery was needed to displace a broken rib that was pressing against Blair's bruised lung. There was massive internal and external bruising. Blair's dislocated jaw was put back into place. Stitches and butterfly bandages covered the cuts on the young man's bruised and swollen face. A wide bandage covered his broken nose and gauze had been placed in each nostril. Blair would be on a ventilator for twenty-four hours to reduce the stress on his bruised lung.
IV fluids dripped and monitors beeped as Jim sat silently beside the hospital bed in Intensive Care that held Blair in a drug-induced sleep. The doctor, nurses, and even Simon tried to get the big Detective to go home, but Jim had refused. He would be there when Blair regained consciousness.
**********
Blair slept as the ventilator tube was removed and after the gauze was extracted from his nose, the doctor replaced it with a line of oxygen. Jim was grateful that Blair would have no memory of the machine he'd been hooked up to. Jim shuddered, knowing that the sight of his Guide hooked up to the ventilator, pushing oxygen into his weakened lungs, would be a memory Jim would never forget.
"We've adjusted his medication so he should wake up soon, Detective," Dr. Stevens said. "The swelling in that wrist is going down nicely. We should be able to cast it later today." He smiled gently at the look of relief on the big man's face. "You should go home and get some rest."
"No, not yet," Jim said quietly. "After he wakes up, and knows where he is and that he's going to be all right. Then I'll be able to go home and rest."
Dr. Stevens nodded his understanding. "He *is* going to be all right."
Jim nodded, looking down at his bruised and battered friend. He resumed his place in the chair next to the bed after the doctor left.
**********
Blair woke slowly, feeling warm as he realized he was in bed. He could hear voices. Soft ... far away voices. He lay there with his eyes closed, listening to the voices, wondering who was in the loft.
Oh, it's the TV, Blair thought groggily, recognizing the newscaster's voice. Jim must be home. With a soft sigh Blair started to roll over. There was a blinding flash of white light behind his eyes as pain lanced through his body.
Jim was at Blair's side before his cried had died away. "Easy, Blair," he said, holding Blair down gently. "Don't move around now."
Blair groaned and opened his bruised, swollen eyes. Confused by his blurred vision, Blair tried to move again, but whimpered at the pain it caused.
"Shh, Blair, ... it's all right," Jim said, pressing a big hand gently to the young man's forehead. "You need to take short, shallow breaths, Chief."
"Jim?" Blair breathed, barely audible even to Jim's sensitive ears.
"I'm right here. You're in the hospital and you're safe."
Blair blinked, trying to clear his vision. "What ... hap ... hap ..."
"Shh ... shh," Jim soothed, letting his hand move gently through Blair's hair. "You need to rest. We'll talk later."
Blair groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as a wave of pain shot through him again.
Jim pressed the call button for the nurse. "Easy, Chief. The nurse will bring you something for the pain. Just try to be still."
A few minutes later the nurse emptied the syringe into the IV and Jim watched as Blair's face relaxed.
"Better, Chief?" Jim asked.
"Yeah," Blair whispered.
Satisfied, the nurse left.
He squinted up at Jim, "Blurry."
Jim smiled affectionately, "You've got a concussion. You're vision will clear soon."
"Don't remember ..."
"I don't expect you to remember anything right now."
"Jim ..."
"Rest now okay? Close your eyes, Chief," Jim said softly.
"Jim ..." Blair's voice was barely a whisper as his eyes fell shut.
"Shhh, we'll talk later. For now you just sleep and heal," Jim whispered, watching as Blair slipped into sleep. He sat there for several more minutes watching his Guide sleep, breathing and heart rate slow and steady.
When Jim was absolutely sure that Blair would sleep comfortably for awhile, he left the room to go home. He felt suddenly exhausted and was glad he didn't have to drive himself to the loft. For now Jim would use the local taxi service. The truck would be waiting for him at the PD parking garage when he went in later.
**********
Four hours of sleep later; Jim woke and out of habit let his senses tell him if his roommate was awake yet. Silence ... no heartbeat, no breathing ... just a deafening silence. Suddenly, it all came crashing back and he groaned, wishing it had all been a nightmare. Rolling over and sitting up, Jim reached for the cordless phone he'd grabbed as he walked through the loft toward his bedroom earlier. He dialed the number of Cascade General Hospital from memory and asked for the ICU when the operator answered.
"He's been sleeping off and on since you left, Detective," the nurse told Jim.
"No bad dreams?" Jim asked.
"No, but he did ask about you and was pleased that you'd gone home. I hope I didn't lie when I told him you were going to get some sleep."
Jim chuckled, "I just woke up. Let him know I'll be there in a little while."
"I will, Detective."
Jim showered, shaved, dressed, and talked the cab driver into stopping at Wonderburger on the way to the station.
"Jim, what are you doing here?" Captain Banks questioned when the Detective appeared in his office. "How's Sandburg?"
"He's doing okay, Simon. He's off the ventilator," Jim said, smiling at the note of concern in the Captain's voice. "He's pretty weak and he doesn't remember what happened. I was on my way back to the hospital and thought I'd see if there were any leads. Has our little gang banger done any talking yet?"
Simon sighed, frustration showing, "All he's told us is his name is Edward Rankan. We have nothing on him and he wasn't carrying any ID. The DMV couldn't tell us anything either."
"Dammit, sir!" Jim said, his temper flaring. "Let me ..."
"No way, Ellison! You are *not* on this case!"
"But if ..."
"No!"
"Just one minute?" Jim pleaded.
"NO!" Simon saw the helpless frustrated anger on Jim's face and softened. "Besides, you're fourth in line right now."
Jim raised his eyebrows questioningly, "Huh?"
"Megan, Rafe, and Henri ... in that order ... all want 'just one minute' with Mr. Rankan," Simon said with a slight, but evil, grin. "But I'm not too sure how much there will be left after Megan gets done with him."
Jim's anger faded a little. Good friends are hard to come by, he thought. "And what about you, sir?"
"Me?" Simon snorted. "I'm holding out for the other two. I'm first in that line."
A sad smile spread across the Detective's face, "Thanks, Simon."
"Not necessary, Blair's got plenty of friends here you know."
Jim nodded as the pager on his belt buzzed. He looked at the displayed phone number and a frown settled onto his face. "It's the hospital."
Simon turned the phone on his desk around so Jim could use it.
"All right, tell him I'm on my way," Jim said after talking briefly to the nurse.
"Is the kid all right, Jim?" Simon asked when Jim hung up the receiver.
"He's apparently starting to remember some things. I'd better get over there."
"Okay, keep me informed ... and tell him I'll be by to see him as soon as he's out of ICU."
"Thanks, Captain, I will."
**********
Jim turned off his cell phone before walking quietly into Blair's ICU hospital room. His young partner was in a reclining position in bed, his knees propped up to lessen the pull on his abused stomach muscles. A new blue cast covered Blair's broken wrist and rested on a pillow at his side. Stepping over to the bed, Jim could see the bruises standing out in sharp contrast against pale skin. Purple rings encircled both of Blair's eyes and Jim grimaced in sympathy at the sight of the swollen nose beneath the bandage.
A soft moan escaped Blair as he shifted slightly in the bed.
Jim gently brushed several stray curls off Blair's forehead. "Hey, Chief, you awake," he whispered.
Blair's eyes fluttered open with some effort. "Jim?" he squinted up at the Detective.
"Yeah, it's me, buddy. How are you feeling?"
"Everything hurts." Blair swallowed and found his throat to be dry. "Is there ... any water?"
Jim saw a small cup and pitcher sitting on a tray on the table. "Sure." He filled the cup and found a straw on the tray. Jim sat on the edge of the bed carefully so as not to jar his friend. "Open a little," he said, holding the straw to Blair's lips.
Blair complied, wincing slightly at the movement of his jaw. He sucked on the straw until he felt cool water fill his mouth and slide down his throat. "Thanks," Blair whispered gratefully.
Jim set the cup aside. "The nurse called."
"I asked ... her to."
"Feel up to telling me what you remember," Jim asked, getting up to move to the chair.
"No ... stay," Blair said, the hand connected to the IV came up in a slow attempt reach out to his older friend.
Jim smiled slightly as he sat back on the bed again, carefully taking the shaky hand in his own, "No problem, Chief."
Blair closed his eyes and took a short, gasping breath. Jim could feel the tremor course through his friend's body.
"Easy, Blair. Take your time. Don't rush it," Jim soothed.
Blair didn't open his eyes as he began to speak. Words came haltingly, between small gasps of air. His voice little more then a hoarse whisper, "My class was ... over at 8:30 ... and I left ... right away." Blair stopped to catch his breath before going on. "I had to stop ... at the light ... at Eighth and Union." He opened tired, pained blue eyes. "The side window exploded ... something hit me ... in the head." Blair tried to shift positions as he became agitated and groaned as a sharp pain spasmed up his back.
Jim felt the hand he held squeeze weakly as Blair's eyes locked onto his with a gasp. He gently brushed his free hand over his partner's forehead and cheek, knowing the contact seemed to help. "Breathe, Blair. Don't hold your breath," Jim coached. "Take shallow breaths, Chief."
Blair squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on doing as Jim said.
Jim could hear Blair's heart thundering and feel him trembling. "Want me to get the nurse?"
Blair opened his eyes again, "No ... it's okay ... now. Just ... need a second."
"There's no rush, Chief. Just take your time," Jim said, absently messaging Blair's fingers gently.
After a couple more minutes Blair continued, "I got pushed ... across the seat. I don't remember anything else ... 'til I woke up ... in the street. Didn't know ... where I was." He stopped to breathe for a few seconds. "Somehow got ... to that phone ... booth."
"Why didn't you just call 911?" Jim asked.
"I did ... they put me ... on hold."
Jim felt anger surge through him. Oh, I'm going to have a little talk with *someone* about this!
"Wish I could ... remember more."
"No, you're doing good, Chief. Besides we got one of them. He'll tell us what happened."
Blair grimaced, "Jim ... what's wrong ... with my back?"
"Nothing serious, you're pretty banged up. Is the pain in the lower part?'
Blair nodded, trying to stifle a whimper.
"You've got a bruised kidney." Among other things. "That's what's hurting." Jim laid Blair's hand on the bed and went to the little closet. He pulled down the extra pillow from the shelf and returned to sit on the bed again. "I'm going to move you just enough to put this behind you. Don't do anything to help. Just let me do it."
"'Kay."
Jim placed one arm around Blair, being careful not to get tangled in any of lines or IV, and slowly moved the smaller man forward. Blair let himself lean into the solid body of his best friend and rested his head on one broad shoulder, groaning softly. Jim quickly placed the pillow behind Blair and started to lean him back again.
"No ... please," Blair whimpered, bringing his arm up around Jim.
Jim stopped, "Did I hurt you, Chief?"
"Don't let go ... yet."
Realizing what Blair wanted, Jim wrapped gentle arms around his Guide. "Sure, buddy." One hand slowly stroked the back of Blair's head and he could feel his friend's warm tears soak into his shirt. "I've got you, Blair. Everything's going to be all right."
Soon Jim felt Blair slowly go limp against him, as his breathing evened out into sleep and carefully lowered him down against the pillows. Brushing the hair from Blair's face, Jim whispered, "I'll get them, Chief. I promise."
**********
Ice blue eyes blazed with cold fire as Jim watched through the one-way glass as Edward Rankan was questioned. Henri and Rafe were interrogating the kid, but having no luck getting anything out of him. This infuriated Jim to no end, making it hard to control the urge he had to burst into the other room and wring it out of the kid.
"Okay ... answer this," Henri could be heard saying to Rankan, frustration and anger evident in his voice. "*Why* did you do it? It's not like that old Volvo was worth anything to you."
Edward Rankan shrugged, "It was dark ... he was alone and there wasn't anyone around to see."
Rafe slammed his hands down on the table and said, "The man asked you a question ... answer him!"
"We didn't do it for the car, man!" Rankan yelled with contempt. "We did it 'cause we didn't have anything better to do!! We were bored!"
If looks could kill, Rankan would have died right then. He flinched slightly at the hateful looks from Rafe and Henri.
"That's it! End of story!"
Jim growled, "That son-of-a-bitch!"
Bursting into the interrogation room like a mad bull, Jim pushed the table aside and grabbed Rankan by the collar. Before Rafe or Henri could react, Jim had thrown the kid up against the wall with his forearm pushing into the kid's windpipe.
"You little shit! Were you still *bored* when you went back to finish him off?!" Jim snarled. "You damn near *killed* my partner!!"
He locked his hands around Jim's wrists in a vain attempt to free himself. "I can't breathe, man!"
"Good!" Jim ground out through clenched teeth. "Ask me if I care!"
Henri and Rafe were both on Jim, trying to pull the big Detective off the smaller man.
"Jim!" Rafe cried, tugging on one arm. "Let go of him, man! We need him!"
"And you're on the list *after* me!" Henri said, his voice low.
Jim blinked and looked at Henri for a second before releasing the prisoner. "Right," he said with an evil grin as Rankan sank to the floor coughing and spluttering.
**********
"I want to see my brother," the young man said to the desk Sergeant.
"And you would be?" Sergeant Collins asked patiently.
"Jerry Rankan. My brother is Ed ... uh, Edward Rankan."
Word of what had happened to the Police Observer had spread quickly and Sergeant Collins frowned, "Take a seat and I'll call for someone who can help you."
Five minutes later, Captain Simon Banks appeared in the lobby. The Sergeant indicated the young man who was waiting and Simon walked over to him.
"Mr. Rankan?" Simon said, holding his hand out. "I'm Captain Banks."
Jerry shook the offered hand firmly. "Can I see my brother?"
"Yes, but we need to talk first."
**********
Blair stirred and groaned as he awakened. A cool hand brushed lightly over his cheek and he let his eyes open slowly.
"How are you doing, Chief?" Jim asked from the chair along side the bed.
"A little better ... I think," Blair answered with a slight smile. "My face ... is awful sore ... Doc says my jaw ... was dislocated. I ache ... all over."
"Yeah, I bet you do, but you're going to be all right. You just need to rest and give yourself time is all."
"Still can't remember," Blair whispered. His mind was sluggish and just keeping his eyes open exhausted him, but he managed to reach for Jim's hand. Blair wanted contact with his Sentinel.
"Don't worry about it, buddy." Jim took the smaller hand and held it gently, knowing instinctively what his Guide needed. I don't want you to remember. "The doctor says you're doing well enough to let you out of here tomorrow."
Blair closed his tired eyes and sighed, "Home."
"Let's get you out of ICU first," Jim said with a smile. "Then we'll work on getting you home, Chief."
**********
Simon explained the situation to Edward Rankan's older brother, Jerry.
"Oh, man, I don't *believe* it!" Jerry said angrily as he paced Simon's office. "No, I *DO* believe it! I knew this would happen sooner or later!"
"We know Edward has not made any phone calls," Simon said from his seat behind his desk. "How did you know he was here?"
"When he didn't come home the other night I started looking for him. I caught up with a couple of his friends and finally got them to tell me he'd been picked up ... but they didn't say anything about all this!" Jerry turned and faced the Captain, running a hand through his hair, "Will the guy they ... will he be okay?"
Jerry Rankan couldn't be more than twenty-one, maybe twenty-two years of age, but Simon was impressed by Jerry's sense of responsibility and maturity. "There was a lot of damage and he's in ICU, but the doctor feels he will recover," Simon answered, feeling the young man before him was genuinely concerned.
"Thank God for that!"
"Your brother has refused to tell us who the other two are. Do you think you could get him to talk?"
"I doubt it, sir. He started getting belligerent and difficult when our dad left three years ago, and since our mother died last year he's become impossible to handle. I can't even get him to go to school anymore. But I can tell you who the other two are."
Simon sprang up out of his chair, "You *know* who he was with?!"
"Mike Connors and Dennis Johnson. They're cousins, they're always together ... causing problems. But it's always been little things ... stupid stunts. Nothing big. Nothing like ... this! The three of them hang together constantly."
Simon grabbed the phone, "I need addresses and descriptions!"
**********
It was 11pm when Jim left the hospital for home. Blair was sleeping comfortably and he knew the nurse would call if anything happened. He didn't like to leave his friend, but his back couldn't spend another night in that chair.
As Jim pulled out of the hospital parking lot his police radio came to life.
"All units in the vicinity of 20th Ave SW meet Captain Banks on TAC2," the voice said.
Jim frowned and switched radio frequencies and heard five patrol units report.
"We have warrants for Michael Connors and Dennis Johnson in the assault of Blair Sandburg," Captain Simon Banks said. "All units go to 86020 20th Ave. SW. Crossroad is Carson Street. No lights, no sirens. Suspects may be armed. Do Not ... I repeat *Do Not* move in until I arrive with the paperwork! We are doing this *by the book* people! I want these two and I don't want to loose them do to a technicality. I will be at the location in less than five minutes."
Jim's face darkened as rage boiled within him. The address was across town from the hospital. He flipped on his blue lights and floored the accelerator.
**********
Jerry Rankan was escorted to the interrogation room where he waited for his brother. He had just spent a good four hours doing all he could to help the police get Connors and Johnson. Now Jerry had to face Edward.
"Why, Eddie?" Jerry asked after the door closed and they were alone in the room. "Why'd you do this?"
Edward shrugged, not looking at his brother.
"You're going to be tried as an adult in this," Jerry said. "All three of you will be."
Edward's head jerked up, eyes suddenly frightened.
Jerry smiled sadly, "You didn't think about that, did you?"
"But I'm only sixteen! They can't ... it's just 'cause he's a cop isn't it?!"
"Eddie, it doesn't matter *who* the victim is ... it's what you *did* that counts. You knew what you were doing when you did it. Hell, you nearly killed him!" Jerry looked his younger brother in the eye and asked, "Would you have killed him, Eddie? Could you have done that?"
Edward held the gaze for a moment then looked away without answering.
"God, Eddie!" Jerry stood and paced the room as he spoke, "You started changing after dad left. Mom and I both noticed it, but we thought you'd get over it. We were wrong. Since mom died you've become impossible! Lord knows I've tried to help you, but ..."
"Tried to *HELP* me!!" Edward cried angrily. "You have *NO* idea what I've been going through!!"
"THAT'S RIGHT I DON'T!!!" Jerry yelled back, then lowered his voice to again. "I've asked ... pleaded for you to talk to me! You shrug, you *say* there's 'nothing wrong', or you just get defensive and angry! I've busted my ass trying to defend you and your actions. I'm tired of excuses."
"I never asked you to do nothing for me!"
"Good, then it shouldn't hurt your feeling when I tell you that I'm done with you. When I leave here, I won't be back. You are on your own, kid."
"Fine ... I don't need you," Edward said defiantly, but tears were standing in his eyes. "I don't need anyone."
Jerry sighed and walked to the door. His hand was on the knob when he turned and said, "Oh, by the way ... the cops are going to pick up Mike and Dennis. I told them they were involved. If I'm wrong, I *do* hope you'll set things straight." Then Jerry walked out, pulling the door shut behind him.
From the opposite side of the one-way glass Megan watched with a satisfied little smile.
Alone on the elevator he let the sad, angry tears flow. He had made his decision and wouldn't be going back, but it still hurt like hell to do it.
**********
Jim arrived at the house on 20th Ave. SW as the two boys were being led from the house.
Simon heard the truck screech to a halt and saw Detective Jim Ellison bail out of the vehicle and march toward the house. "Get the prisoners in the car ... NOW!" he called, then signaled to the other Major Crimes Detectives on the scene as he went to head his friend off.
Jim tried to push away from Rafe and Henri as the two grabbed hold of Jim's arms.
"Jim, no! You can't!" Rafe pleaded.
"I only want to *talk* to them!" Jim said through gritted teeth as he struggled.
"Ellison!" Simon's voice cut through all else.
Jim immediately stilled and looked at his Captain.
"What are you doing here?!"
Rafe and Henri released Jim's arms, but stood ready in case the big man charged forward.
"I was leaving the hospital and heard the call on the radio," Jim replied.
"Then you heard me say that I didn't want them to get off on a technicality. You beating the suspects to pulp would definitely be a technicality."
Jim was breathing hard, shaking with the seething anger he was desperately trying to keep in check. He was looking past the Captain at the car that held the two suspects.
"How's Blair doing?" Simon asked. Real concern masking the attempt to distract the Detective.
Jim turned then to look at Simon. "He's doing better."
Simon watched as Jim softened at the mention of his partner.
"They're going to move him out of ICU tomorrow," Jim said.
"Good ... that's great!" Simon said. "Jim, I want you to go home. Get some rest. We've got things under control here."
"But, sir ..."
Simon held up a hand to stop the protest, "Think about Blair. Would he want you to do this?"
No, Blair would read him the riot act as soon as he found out ... and Jim knew it. "No, sir, he wouldn't," he said quietly.
"Go home, Jim. I'll see you tomorrow."
Jim turned and walked slowly back to the truck.
**********
It was noon the next day when Jim walked into the private room his partner had been moved to. Blair was looking better though still obviously weak, the bruises were slowly beginning to fade and most of the swelling was gone.
"Hey, Jim," Blair said, managing a real smile for the first time since regaining consciousness.
"Hey, Chief," Jim smiled in return. " Sorry I didn't get here sooner. I had to be at the station this morning. How're you feeling?"
"Better now that ... I'm not hooked up to ... all the machines. And it's quieter ... so I've been sleeping a lot."
"That's good to hear, buddy. I'm glad you're doing so well." Jim moved a chair close to the bed and lowered himself into it with a sigh.
"I talked to Simon a while ago," Blair said.
"Oh?"
"He told me ... what happened last night."
"I wish he hadn't."
"I'm glad he did."
"Blair, I'm sorry," Jim said sadly. "I lost control."
"No, Jim ... you didn't lose control," Blair smiled, reaching out to his Sentinel. "If you'd lost control ... those two would ... probably be dead now."
Jim took the offered hand, being careful of the IV. "It would have been so easy."
"You wouldn't have done it, Jim."
Jim looked into Blair's trusting eyes.
"I *know* you, man ... it would not have happened."
Jim held the gaze a few seconds longer. He wanted to believe that ... he really did. "Get some rest, Sandburg," Jim said affectionately.
Blair smiled and closed his eyes, feeling sleep come easily as the warmth and safety of knowing his friend, his partner, his *Sentinel*, was there to watch over him.
Jim looked in wonder at the kid that three years he'd thrown against a wall without a care ... would have, on looks alone, run into the station without a second thought. When had that changed?
When did *I* change? Jim thought. Now merely the thought of Blair being sick or hurt, or in pain for *any* reason made his stomach churn.
The hand Jim still held had gone slack as Blair's sleep deepened, but twitched occasionally, as if to be sure it was still being held.
Jim reached out and gently touched Blair's cheek, then brushed at the dark curls. He sleeps best when I'm here, Jim thought with a small smile. Does he really feel *safe* with me? Does he really *trust* me?
As if to answer the unspoken questions Blair sighed in his sleep and moved his head into Jim's slowly stroking hand. His smaller fingers tightened slightly around Jim's other hand.
<>~~<>~~<>
end