New
Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles
Healing
by Suzie
Summary: Blair comes home and they both need to get through the first night. #3 in Writer's Block Series #2.
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: Thanks, Jen! <VBG>
Days turned into weeks as Blair continued to heal. His leg was taken out of traction on the seventh day and re-fitted with a lightweight fiberglass cast that went just above his knee. He then began therapy to regain strength after being bedridden for more than a week. The headaches from the concussion pounded in his skull and the Doctor had told him to expect them off and on over the next month. The only thing that really helped was when Jim would massage his temples. Those big fingers seemed to push the pain right out better then any of the drugs.
The surgical staples were removed after two weeks and Blair was soon up on crutches more and more as he got stronger. Jim would push the IV pole while Blair hobbled slowly on his crutches. He tired easily, which made his head hurt, which frustrated him. But Jim’s calm patience and the fact that he wanted to go home, were the driving force in Blair’s recovery.
But Blair had mentioned nothing more about the accident. He refused to discuss it. Jim could see the pain in his partner’s eyes when the subject was brought up and decided to let it go until Blair was feeling better. Jim’s main concern was getting his friend back, healthy and strong once again. The loft was too quiet and empty without Blair.
**********
Jim nearly danced into Blair’s hospital room. He hadn’t felt this good in weeks. “Ready to go home, Chief?”
“After five weeks in here, you bet!” Blair replied.
"Thirty-seven days to be exact," Jim grinned.
Blair chuckled. “Did you bring me some clothes?”
“Right here.” Jim held up a gym bag then dropped it into the chair he’d spent so much time in.
Blair sat up and slowly shifted his still sore body to the edge of the bed.
“Go slow there,” Jim said, gently grasping Blair by one arm to steady him as he moved.
“Yeah, I’m good at slow right now,” Blair said with a smile.
"Headache?"
"Very slight right now," Blair said as he stood leaning against the bed, and pulled off the hospital gown.
Jim pulled boxers out of the bag and slipped them over Blair's legs, then steadied him as he pulled them up. Jim knew his friend well enough to know that he would want to do as much as he could on his own, but bending beyond a sitting position was not part of the routine yet.
"How about those dizzy spells?" Jim asked as he helped Blair into his sweatpants.
"Nothing since last night," Blair replied, as he adjusted the elastic waistband so it wasn't rubbing his incision site.
"You're either going to have to wear sweatpants for the next month," Jim said when Blair was sitting on the bed again. "Or we're going to have to cut one leg out of all your jeans."
"Well, as long as I'm not working I'll wear sweats," Blair said as Jim pulled on a sock, then a sneaker. "I can't afford to replace the few pairs of jeans I have."
Jim tied Blair's shoe before pulling another sock over the toes that peeked out of the cast.
**********
His first night at home in thirty-seven days and Blair couldn't sleep. Lying in bed, his body ached and his mind wouldn't slow down. A picture of Samantha and the two children kept coming to him every time he closed his eyes. Blair knew he wasn't responsible for what happened, but that didn't make him feel any better. He kept asking himself the same question until he finally gave up trying to hold it in. He slowly sat up, stifling a painful moan as he reached for the crutches that leaned against the nightstand.
The Doctor had warned him that his head injury would probably mess with his emotions. Guess he was right, Blair thought solemnly as he hobbled out of his room on crutches.
**********
Jim came awake to the sound of quiet sobbing. He frowned and sat up in bed, his sensitive hearing going to the room below him where Blair should have been sleeping. The younger man wasn't there, forcing the frown on Jim's face to deepen. He slid out of bed, pulling on his robe and slippers as his senses searched the loft for his Guide.
There he is, Jim thought as he pinpointed the sounds out on the balcony. What's he doing out there? He was still tying the belt of his robe as he descended the stairs. Grabbing the afghan off the back of the sofa, Jim quietly opened the door and stepped out to join his friend.
"Blair," Jim said quietly as he wrapped the afghan around the slumped shoulders. "Kinda chilly out here at 3am, isn't it?"
Blair stood balanced against the railing, his crutches leaning on the wall next to him. He wiped at the wet streaks on his face and cleared his throat. "I was ... um ... hoping I wouldn't wake you. Sorry."
Jim gently rubbed circles over Blair's shivering back. "Want to talk about it?"
"I don't know if I can," Blair whispered, another sob escaping like a hiccup.
"Let's go inside where it's warm and give it try, okay?"
Blair nodded, reaching for his crutches as he turned.
**********
"I thought it would go away after a while, but it hasn't," Blair said quietly after several minutes.
"What's that?" Jim asked.
"This feeling that I should've done more."
"Blair ..."
"Maybe I should've ..."
"No, Blair, you did *everything* you could do," Jim said. "There's no way you could've known what was going to happen. *No one* could have foreseen that."
Blair laid his head back against the cushion behind him. "But why, Jim? They were alive! They didn't have to die!" His voice dropped to a whisper, "Why did *I* live?"
Jim sighed sadly. He'd been waiting for this. "I don't know if you remember, but you asked me *why* once before and I couldn't give you an answer."
"I'm sorry, Jim, I didn't mean ..."
Jim held up a hand to interrupt. "I spent two long weeks trying to find an answer for you, Chief. I wanted to give you an explanation ... a reason for what happened. I even questioned the two men that caused the mess. One was in a hurry ... didn't see the van. The other ... the one that hurt you ... was so drunk off his ass he didn't even remember getting in his car and driving away from the party he'd been at."
"And what did you find out," Blair asked cautiously.
"That there is no explanation ... no reason ... no *sense* to what happened.” Jim couldn’t stop the anger inside him from sounding in his voice. “It’s not fair. It’s not right. I can’t stop it from happening again."
“I’m sorry, Jim,” Blair said quietly. “I didn’t mean to put you through so much.”
“You almost died, Chief. In the hospital you asked me *why* … and I really wanted to find that answer for you.” Jim swallowed hard, fighting to keep some control of his emotions. “I don’t know why that woman and her kids died and you didn’t. I’m sorry it happened and I’m sorry for what the family is going through. But, my God, Blair, I’m glad you didn’t die with them!”
Even if Blair’d had the energy to rein in his emotions, he wouldn't have. Tears again spilled down his cheeks as he pressed his knuckles into tired eyes with a groan. “I didn’t realized what you must have gone through, man,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have laid that on you.”
“It’s not your fault, Chief. As much as you deserve an explanation, there just isn’t one out there.” Jim turned to look at his Guide, partner, and best friend. “Headache?”
“Uh huh.”
Jim stood and maneuvered Blair’s legs onto the sofa, then slipped behind him and settled Blair back against his chest. Blair relaxed into the warm, solid security that was his Sentinel and sighed as Jim began to gently message his Guide’s temples. Jim could feel the tense pain and willed it gone with each small circle he made against Blair’s head.
“Mmmm,” Blair sighed.
“Does that help?” Jim asked with a faint smile.
“You know it does. Works better then the drugs do.”
Jim continued his ministrations until he felt Blair relax into sleep. Then he pulled the afghan around him and held him close. He could feel his friend’s heart beating strong and steady, and his breathing slow and even. A tear coursed slowly down Jim’s cheek. He remembered the feeling he’d had when the hospital called. He had never been as scared as he had been while waiting for Blair to come out of the coma.
What if you hadn’t woken up, Chief? Jim wondered silently. I think I would have just zoned into oblivion. He settled the side of his head onto the back of the sofa. I don’t know how much of it’s a Guide/Sentinel thing and how much is friendship thing, but I know I wouldn’t want to lose you.
Blair mumbled in his sleep and shifted, groaning softly, but didn’t wake.
“Shhh,” Jim whispered without moving from his position. “You’re all right.”
Blair settled again and slept.
Jim felt himself drifting off to sleep and wondered briefly how his back and neck would feel after sleeping in a pretzel position. He smiled slightly, eyes still closed, and wondered why it would matter. Blair was there … comfortable and sleeping soundly. He would gladly deal with a little discomfort of his own to know that his friend and Guide was alive and safe. Jim let his fingers slowly move through Blair’s hair until he fell into the most peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks.
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