New
Arrivals
Author-Vision
Titles
Crimson Moon
Part Two
by Vision
See notes and disclaimer on part one.
Blair wanted nothing more than to grab Jim, get in the truck, and disappear.
Jim's body shuddered against him as Blair wrapped a protective arm around his partner's waist. After Jim's admission to Blair about willingly giving the bottle to Drake, Jim had hastily retreated into himself. Confusion and fear had caused the Sentinel to withdraw from the world around him into the safety of his own thoughts. Blair had attempted to break down the walls of his partner's heavily guarded inner fortress, but even the soothing voice of his Guide could not penetrate the gunfire bombarding Jim's mind. The war between good and evil raged on, cannons boomed, guns blazed, bombs exploded...
Blair gently maneuvered his unsteady partner into the nearest chair. Jim's body was now wracked with tremors, his breathing coming in shallow pained gasps. Kneeling beside him, Blair ran his hands lightly along Jim's arm, keeping up a steady litany of reassuring words. "Come on, Jim. You got to snap out of this. Look, I know you're scared, but you got help me out here. Rafe and Brown just looked over this way. I really don't want to explain what a zone-out is. You catch my drift?" Blair couldn't help the sense of urgency that suddenly crept into his voice. "Jim, I need you back here. I'm in trouble, do you understand?" Blair knew that his last statement would hold more weight with Jim Ellison than any other words that he could possibly use.
Jim blinked away the haze and slowly turned his head towards Blair's worried face. "Chief?"
"Right here..."
Blair's words were cut short by Simon's loud voice. "Ellison, I want you and Drake and Sandburg on this one. They found a guy over at Champlain Bluffs; they think it might be one of ours. We may have a cop killer on our hands. Rafe, Brown, let's go."
Blair angled a glance in Drake's direction as the team headed for the door. He could have sworn he saw a slight grin play at the edge of Drake's mouth as Blair helped Jim to his feet.
***************************
"I'm fine, Chief. Just let me do my job."
It took every ounce of self restraint for Blair to keep his voice just above a whisper. "You cannot work with this guy."
"Look, you said it yourself, we got to get that bottle back. Can you think of a better idea?"
Rolling his eyes, Blair sighed, "Since when did you start listening to me anyway? Fine, look at the body and then let's get out of here."
Glancing up at the top of the gorge, Jim shook his head. "There's no way we're getting up there without a chopper. I'm gonna try to make out who it is. Some bird watcher spotted the body a few hours ago. They still haven't been able to get to it. They found an abandoned police car a few blocks away." Zeroing in with his sight, Jim immediately shook his head in disbelief. "Oh, man, I don't believe this. It's that kid, Davidson. He's got a wife and two kids. Oh, god."
Blair shifted uneasily behind him. "What kind of animal does something like this? How the hell did he even get up here?"
"The way he's laid out here it's like it was deliberate. His arms are straight out from his sides, and his legs are pinned together. There's no way he fell from the top. That means somebody had to carry him up there."
Squinting to block out the sun, Blair tried to make out the shape on the rocks. "What do you mean he's laid out with his arms straight out from his sides?"
"You know, like a 'T' or a..."
Drake's voice interrupted Jim's words. "Or a cross. Funny, isn't it? Wonder how he got up there? Maybe you should check your list, Mr. Sandburg. You never know there might be something of interest there."
With a wink of his eye, Drake rejoined the group of investigating officers.
Cautiously unfolding the list of marked victims, Blair quickly scanned the names. "Jim, I think we have a problem here. This guy's name is on the list."
"I think we may have an even bigger problem, Chief. He's not dead -- there's a very faint heartbeat. I got to get up there."
Raising his eyebrows, Blair stole another quick glance at the steep incline of the gorge. "Oh man. There's no way to get to him but straight up the side of that thing. Unless you've taken flying lessons lately, Superman, you're not getting up there in any big hurry. It's too dangerous, Jim."
Moving in the direction of the truck, Jim chuckled softly. "Simon said they won't be able to get the chopper here for almost an hour and there's a storm moving in. If those rocks get wet, that guy doesn't have a chance. Grab your knapsack and see what kind of stuff the guys can scrounge up. I'll need the first aid kit, a hands free radio, and some rope. I'm also gonna need..."
Drake smiled as he approached the twosome. "You're going to need a partner."
Blair's shot Drake a warning glare as he slapped Jim on the back. "I'll be more than glad to assist you. I believe I have something that you may need. up there."
Patting his shirt pocket, Drake met Blair's eyes.
Blair swallowed hard, trying to remain calm. "Detective Ellison has a partner."
"Aren't you afraid of heights, Mr. Sandburg?"
"I can manage."
Jim found himself stepping in between the two men as Blair took a step towards Drake. "Chief, he's not worth it. I'll be okay. He's not going to try anything in front of all of these people." Jim managed a weak smile. "I need you here, I need somebody to talk to me on the way up there."
Blair nodded hesitantly and took a step backwards. As he watched Jim and Drake retrieve some of the required items from the truck, Blair felt a stab of anger pierce his heart. He knew Jim was right. He knew that the only chance for unmarking Davidson was while his heart still beat. In his head the reasons for allowing Drake to accompany his partner were more than logical. Drake was obviously an experienced climber. He carried the bottle that Jim needed. He even had a vested interest in keeping Jim safe. Although his mind tried to process this information, Blair's heart refused to believe it. He had been replaced...
***************************
"Will you please stop looking at me like that?" Jim mumbled to Blair as he made his way towards the other members of the team.
"Like what? Jim, you know Drake put that guy up there. You know he got you to give up that bottle on purpose just so he could get you make this climb with him. What I want to know is why you're so calm about the whole thing?"
Blair practically ran into the older man as Jim came to an abrupt stop. Grabbing Blair by the shoulders, Jim pinned him with his eyes. "What choice do I have? If I don't do what he says every person that I don't unmark turns into some kind of blood-sucking vampire."
"What's going on with you Jim? One minute you can't even remember getting burned and the next minute you're back to being your old self again. Level with me."
The sorrow in Blair's eyes reflected Jim's inner pain. How could he possibly let Blair know that he was losing the battle that raged within him? How could he tell him that with each passing moment it was getting harder and harder to find his way back to his Guide? Blair was right. It was as if Drake had control of everything, his thoughts, his fears, his pain. "I don't know, Chief. Just promise me when it gets bad, you'll take care of it."
"I'm not promising you anything, Jim, not if involves hurting you."
Jim tightened his grip on Blair's shoulders and glanced heavenward. "And what if it's not 'me' anymore? Would you do it then?"
"It'll always be 'you.' Now get going before I change my mind. You think that radio's gonna work up there?"
Shaking his head, Jim released Blair and adjusted the knapsack on his back. "I doubt it. No matter what, I'll be able to hear you -- you just won't be able to hear me."
"That's reassuring."
Jim smiled as he moved towards the base of the rocks, Drake moving into position beside him. Carefully the two men began the tricky ascent towards the victim. Jim focused his entire attention on the task before him. Using his sense of touch, sight, and hearing he slowly worked his way upward, trying his best to avoid any seemingly unsteady areas. Rocks crumbled between his fingers, as he wove in and out of small nooks and crevices in the rocks. Filtering out any background noise, he listened intently for any slight changes around him. Jim knew that one small mistake, one misplaced step, could lead to disaster. His hands searched for signs of erosion and moisture, his feet tingling from within his boots as he tried to focus on keeping both hands and feet working in unison.
Taking a moment to survey the area, Jim glanced at the man beside him before turning his attention to Blair's voice. The anthropologist had for the most part kept quiet, knowing that he needed the time to orient himself to his surroundings. Jim smiled inwardly as Blair told him that the Jags were up by ten.
Another sound filtered into his eardrum, the sound of a soft groan coming from above. A split second before the rocks fell, Jim screamed a warning. "Drake, watch out!" Rocks tumbled towards the two men as the victim's frantic pleas filled the air. Jim's hands and feet thrashed wildly, his hands gripping at thin air, his feet skidding along the rocks. Blood trickled from his fingers as his raw skin connected with the rough terrain.
Blair dropped the binoculars and ran to the base of the rocks, screaming a warning. "Jim!"
The shrieking sound caused Jim to lose his footing entirely and he dangled unmercifully by his hands. With practiced ease, Drake moved in beside him and extended a hand to him. "Grab on, Jim!"
Jim could feel his own heart pounding wildly. It would be so easy to let go. No choices for Blair, no heart-wrenching decisions to make. Jim hesitated and Drake inched closer to him.
"If you do this Ellison, they'll all be mine. How many are left, Jimmy?"
Jim could feel his hold loosening, his hands growing slippery with sweat. A sob filled voice coming from below called to him. "Damn you, Jim. Grab his hand. I'll do it. If I can't reach you anymore...if I can't find the James Ellison that I know...then I'll kill you. Do you hear me?"
As their hands connected Jim felt his body being lifted, pushed upward towards the ledge. It felt as though he were hovering, floating somewhere outside himself.
Drake whispered. "Forest in the sky, Jim. A Sentinel will always be a Sentinel as long as he chooses to be. The question is, what kind of Sentinel have you chosen to be?"
***************************
Jim set to work on the injured man, doing his best to avoid Drake's questioning eyes. Davidson groaned as Jim carefully checked him for injuries. Patting Davidson's shoulder in reassurance, Jim set to work splinting his arm. After careful examination of the semi-conscious man, he concluded that other than the broken limb and a possible concussion, there didn't seem to be any other signs of trauma. Drake followed along silently, watching with keen interest as Jim ran his sensitive fingers along the man's flesh.
After splinting the arm, Jim settled himself in a sitting position a few feet away. Jim's eyes swept the rocky landscape, searching the cloud-covered sky for the mythical "silver lining." The low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance and he closed his eyes to the bleak montage of depressing images. The moist scent of rain filled his nostrils, and the heavy air descended to rest on his shoulders. Drake nudged him gently and slipped the bottle into his hands. "Don't fight it, Jim. It's better for you if you don't fight it."
Wordlessly, Jim unscrewed the cap, moved towards Davidson, and allowed a single drop to fall into his palm. All at once the heavens opened and the sky wept.
***************************
Simon ushered Blair towards the police car as the heavens mourned the loss of one of their own. Rain pelted against the windshield as Blair situated himself in the passenger's seat. "Great, Simon, now what? We can't just leave them up there. How long before that chopper shows up?" Blair swiped an arm against the now fogged-up glass. "I can't see a damn thing."
"There's no way they're gonna chance flying in this. Just sit tight -- we'll think of something."
Blair's verbal tirade was cut short by a rapping sound on the passenger's window. Opening the window a crack, Blair stifled a gasp.
"Hey, Chief, it's cold out here. Mind opening the door." Jim smiled good-naturedly at his partner and gestured towards the door lock.
Simon was the first to react. "Ellison, how the hell did you get down from there?"
Grinning, Jim gave Blair a wink. "I flew. Now how about some help here. Davidson's gonna need an ambulance, and I prefer the dry look myself."
As quickly as the rain had started it came to an abrupt halt. Blair pushed open the door causing Jim to take a step backwards. Holding his arms out, palms up, Jim took a deep breath. "If I'd known all I had to do was ask for it to stop, I'd have done it ten minutes ago."
Blair's eyes surveyed the man before him, the thoughts that ran through his mind causing him to shake his head in disbelief. It was impossible. This could not be happening. Jim could not have caused a shift in the weather. That type of power, was...inhuman. "I flew." Blair cringed at the mere implication of the words.
Simon exited the car and moved around to the passenger's side of the vehicle. "Ambulance will be here in five minutes. How's Davidson?"
"Broken arm, mild concussion. He'll be fine."
Slapping Jim on the back, Simon chuckled. "You flew. Very funny, Jim. Where's your partner?"
Meeting Blair's eyes, Jim's smile widened. "Drake said he had some business to take care of."
"Well, I for one think this is cause for celebration. I'll get Rhonda to whip up some of that punch of hers, and I may just spring for a cake as well. Great job, Jim. You and Sandburg get cleaned up and meet back at the station in an hour."
Blair shifted uncomfortably under Jim's gaze. "Let's let Drake make the refreshments, sir. I hear he has some kind of secret ingredient in his punch."
***************************
Blair spent the rest of the afternoon alternately keeping an eye on Jim, and documenting his behavior. Jim had barely given him the time of day since the incident at the bluffs. Drake, on the other hand, had received more than his fair share of Jim's attention. When the two men weren't huddled together with a group of other officers, they were off on their own, smiling and joking with one another.
Thanks to Simon's party idea, Jim had been able to unmark all but one of the marked victims. Punch glasses were filled and drained within minutes, the balance of good and evil quickly restored. "Bottoms up," Jim chided as he lifted a toast to the group of onlookers. Clinking glasses, Jim and Drake exchanged knowing smiles.
The rest of the day was spent searching for Davidson's attacker. As the onset of evening approached, the body of a young man was found three blocks away from the crime scene. A scrawled suicide note accompanied the corpse. With little effort, Jim identified the man and was able to link him to Davidson. Within the hour, motive and opportunity were established. Case closed...
Blair felt like his insides were being torn apart. Some poor unsuspecting guy had taken the fall for Drake's actions. Drake would stop at nothing to insure his partnership with Jim. The question remained where did that leave him? Frowning Blair mulled the words over in his head. By tomorrow night, the Jim Ellison that he had known would be gone. Fear crept into Blair's heart as he watched Jim make a move towards him. He felt every muscle in his body tense as the older man dangled the truck keys in front of his face. "You coming?"
Easing himself off the edge of the desk, Blair shook his head. "I've got a few errands to run. I'll be back in a few hours. Besides, I've got my car here. You took off on me this morning, remember?"
"I did?"
"Yeah, you did."
Shrugging his shoulders, Jim dropped the keys into his jacket pocket. "Simon said he wants to drop by and watch the game." Trying to keep a casual tone to his voice, Jim continued, "Where are you going anyway?"
"I have to pick up some work at the University. I'll be back soon."
"Suit yourself. Drive safely."
Jim turned on his heels and quickly made his way to the door. Letting out the breath he had been holding, Blair reached for the phone. Tapping his foot nervously, he waited for the line to connect.
"Phyllis, hi, it's Blair. There's a new student in one of your classes, Miranda Sky. Is she in your class tonight?... Great, thanks.... No, don't tell her that I was asking for her. I'll catch up with her later.... Bye."
Smiling to himself, Blair muttered, "Two can play at this game, Drake."
***************************
Blair checked his watch for the fourth time in as many minutes. He had spent the last hour pacing nervously outside the auditorium, jumping at every tiny sound that filled the night air. A cool breeze swirled around him as he kept watch over the doors leading to the building. What Blair would normally have labeled a beautiful evening seemed unusually sinister. As he stole a glance at the night sky, he wondered what gods had conspired to send such ill fate to himself and his partner.
***************************
Miranda walked down the steps and froze at the site of Blair gazing up into the sky. Her first inlcination was to run, run far and fast. What was he doing here? Drake had allowed her the opportunity to "mark" someone at the University, and Blair had been her first choice. There was something about this man, something...different. She had felt mysteriously drawn to him, captivated by his mere presence. She hadn't expected to see him again, not until tomorrow night. Not until the thirty "marked" victims became initiated into the group. The same feeling that beckoned her to him the night of their first meeting, overtook her and caused her to approach him once again.
"Blair? What are you doing here? Is there something wrong?"
Blair closed his eyes to the chill that spread through his body. "I need to talk to you, Miranda. I know what you are. I know why you're here. I know all about Drake."
Her eyes shifted nervously as she ushered him towards the side of the building. Once hidden somewhat in the shadows, Miranda whispered, "What are you talking about?"
Reaching in his pocket, Blair produced a flashlight and laid it on the ground. The tiny beam of light creating an imaginary line between them. Miranda took a step backwards as he laid out a number of items in the beam of the light. "Let's see, I'm not exactly up on my vampire know how, but I figure garlic, a cross, a lighter, those are probably pretty standard items. I've got more in here if you like." Blair patted the side of his knapsack and gave her a knowing smile.
Miranda tensed as she viewed the items on the grass before her. Her eyes widened as she met Blair's smile. "You were marked. I marked you myself. It's gone. The mark is gone. How could you..?"
Sensing her dismay, Blair pressed on "You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? What did he tell you, Miranda? What did her promise you?"
"We were supposed to mark thirty people. He said I could mark one person from the University. That you'd all be one of us by tomorrow night. I don't understand."
For a moment, Blair actually felt sorry for the girl. Another victim of Drake's obsession; another soul doomed to hell. "He lied to you, Miranda. He's here on a mission. There's a man here, a special man, that he needs to complete his plan. This man has the ability to unmark people. He unmarked me, and he's going to unmark everyone else."
"You lie!"
Blair shrugged his shoulders as he watched her struggle beneath his gaze. "You mean nothing to him. It's this man that he wants. I'm sorry."
Miranda fell silent, searching her clouded mind for the answers that she so desperately needed. How could this be true? How could Drake use her this way? "Why doesn't he just save himself then?"
"He can't. He only has the ability to save thirty people. I need your help. I know you don't believe me. I know I've caught you off guard here. All I'm asking you to do is think about it. There's only one person left to unmark. After that I don't know what's going to happen. I can tell you one thing though -- Drake will stop at nothing to get what he wants."
The sincerity in the man's voice frightened her. What if this were true? What if Drake had never meant for her to join him at all? There was only one way to find out....
Miranda walked carefully around the beam of light, keeping a safe distance from the items that lay on the grass. "I have to go."
Nodding, Blair called to her as she walked away. "Think about it, Miranda. You know I'm right."
Moments after Miranda disappeared into the night, Blair knelt, gathering up the items and stuffing them into his knapsack. Just as he was about to reach for the flashlight, a shadow appeared on the grass in front of him. Gripping the light, Blair swivelled to a standing position, wielding the makeshift weapon at his presumed attacker. The light connected soundly with the side of the man's head. The man staggered wildly, his hands pressed firmly against the side of his head. Blair's heart thundered in his chest as he watched the would-be assailant drop to his knees. The shadow swayed precariously and then fell to the ground. Blair gave the unmoving person a tentative kick to his side as he brought the flashlight up to the man's face.
"Oh my god. Jim!"
***************************
Jim's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his guide's urgent pleas. Amidst groans and muttered curses, Jim shifted unsteadily to a sitting position.
"Oh man, Jim, I am so sorry." Blair's hands probed the side of Jim's head gently. "I had no idea it was you. We better get you to the hospital."
Swatting Blair's hand away, Jim growled. "What the hell are you doing out here anyway? I've been looking all over for you. We got to talk, Chief."
Something in Jim's voice made Blair's heart quicken. It was as if the last few days had never happened. The "James Ellison" that he knew had suddenly reappeared. Blair clung to the feeling like a lifeline, hoping against hope that the haze that hung between them was about to be lifted.
"You sure you're okay? I mean..."
"Yeah, remind me not to bug you about carrying a gun. You're deadly enough with a Durabeam." Jim reached for the flashlight and quickly extinguished it's intrusive beam. " I don't quite know where to begin here. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't have any choice. Believe me, if there was any other way..."
"What are you talking about, Jim?"
The air stirred between them, a gentle breeze carrying whispers of healing words. Jim sighed heavily and settled himself more comfortably on the grass. "I haven't been totally honest with you. Drake does have power over me, Chief, just not as much as you think he does He could kill you in a blink of an eye. I couldn't chance that, so I went along with him. I made him think that I'd changed. The truth is, I can barely stand to be near the guy. I had to get that list from him -- it was the only way. I had to keep you safe. I figured if I could convince him that I didn't feel anything for you anymore, he'd leave you alone. I'm sorry."
Blair wished at that moment that he possessed Jim's sentinel sight. The darkness hid Jim's confession in its shadowed arms. "You're sorry? That's great, Jim, that's just great."
The bitter tone and Blair hurt expression filtered through the darkness. "You don't understand, Chief. I wanted you to hate me. I wanted to make it easy for you."
"Easy? This is your idea of easy? You thought by making me believe that you had changed it would be easier for me to kill you. That's what this is about, isn't it?"
Gripping Blair by the shoulders, Jim shook him gently. "Do you know who the last marked person is? Do you? It's Daryl -- Daryl Banks. That picture that moved across Simon's desk...it was of Simon and Daryl. You got to let me go, Blair. If you don't let me go, I'll kill them all. You promised me on the bluffs that you'd do it. I'm holding you to that promise."
Shaking his head vehemently, Blair's voice flattened. "You're not the only one who can lie, Jim."
Releasing Blair's arms, Jim collapsed back on his heels. "Dammit, Sandburg. You're something else, you know that? Okay, fine, have it your way. There may be something else we can do. It's a long shot, but it might work."
Reaching in his pocket, Jim retrieved a metallic object and pressed it into Blair's hands. Feeling the lines of the object, Blair quickly identified it. "A gun? I just told you..."
"Just relax, Chief. It has blanks in it. If you shoot me and Drake thinks I'm dead, it might buy us some time."
Nervously fingering the weapon, Blair nodded. "To do what?"
"I want you to teach me how to turn down the dials. I mean, really turn them down."
The soft thunk of the gun hitting the grass sounded beside Jim. "You're crazy. No way, Jim. No way. This is ludicrous. I think I must have scrambled a few brain cells when I hit you."
Smiling slightly, Jim continued. "I know you can do it. If I can slow down my heart rate and my breathing he'll think I'm dead. Just think of it as the ultimate zone-out."
Endless seconds ticked by as Blair mulled over the possibilities in his head. The thought of guiding Jim into a zone-out terrified him. His role as Guide was to avert danger, not to administer it. A hand reached out and grasped his own, its strong grip never faltering.
"I'll find you, Blair. We can do this."
Blair returned the grip, sealing the pact in silence.
***************************
Jim hesitated just outside the door to the loft. He could hear Simon and Drake's voices through the closed door. There was no turning back now, no second thoughts. He was about to give the performance of a lifetime, and there was no room for error. As his hand reached for the knob, he quickly forced down the fear that had suddenly began to well up in his heart. He had taken a chance meeting with Blair at the University, but he was not about to take any more risks where he, or anyone else, was concerned. His grip tightened around the metal object, and he took one last huff of breath before swinging open the door. The old James Ellison was dead...
Simon turned his head in response to the sound of the door opening. Jim staggered into the room, bag in hand, and made his way unsteadily over to the kitchen table where Simon and Drake sat playing cards. Both men were at Jim's side before he made it to the table.
"Jim! What the hell happened to you? Who did this?"
Guiding Jim into a kitchen chair, Simon gently fingered the gash on Jim's head. Wincing, Jim closed his eyes to mere slits, doing his best to convince the twosome that the blow to his head had left him dazed and confused. Drake retrieved a wet cloth and taking Simon's place, pressed the fabric against the wound. An actual wave of nausea slid over Jim's body as the man's hands ghosted across his skin. Drake's touch sent goosebumps along his spine. Jim's shivering was quickly misinterpreted by the men as the onset of shock.
"Jim? Do you know where you are? You have to talk to us. Who did this?"
Scanning the room, Jim's face took on an expression of unsuppressed fear. "Is he here?"
Dragging a chair in beside him, Simon leaned in beside his detective. "Is who here? Who are you talking about, Jim?"
His voice cracking with emotion, Jim continued, "Blair. I met him downstairs after I went to pick up the food. We had a fight."
As if on cue, the loft door swung open and Blair entered, a look of hatred written on his face. "I'm not done yet, Ellison! Get up!"
Bolting to a standing position, Simon moved to block Jim's view of his partner. Jim silently thanked the gods that he didn't have to meet Blair's eyes at that particular moment. The thought that their lives could ever come to something like this was bad enough, but to actually have to see the hurt in Blair's eyes would be too much for him.
Simon pinned Blair's shoulders, and used his body weight to push him against the counter. "What's going on here? Sandburg, did you do this? You better have a damn good explanation for all of this."
Squirming under Simon's grasp, Blair craned his neck to get a look at his partner. "Nothing's ever enough for you, is it? I gave you four years of my life, and how do you repay me? You kick me out. Yeah, well, you can have it, Jim. You can have it all! I'll be gone in the morning."
Shrugging off Simon's hands, Blair stomped towards his room. Moments later, the sound of articles being tossed about the small area could be heard clearly. Jim swallowed back the lump that had formed in his throat as Simon's accusing eyes fell upon him. "You kicked him out? Again? What the hell for?"
Jim felt Drake's hand on his shoulder, coaxing him on. "It's just not working out anymore. Things just aren't the same."
"I admit that you and Drake make a good team, but think of what the kid has done for you, Jim. He's saved your ass more than once."
Drake smiled and patted Jim's shoulder lightly. "Maybe it's for the best."
"Look, I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt here. Maybe you've got a concussion or something. Let's get you to the hospital and we'll talk about this later."
As Simon made a move towards Jim, Drake stopped him with a glare. For the first time, Simon got a good look into the eyes of his new officer. There was a coldness there -- an inexplicable source of evil. Simon found himself taking a step backwards.
"I'll take care of him, Captain. Not a problem."
Jim had to consciously convince his body to stay put. The desire to come clean and snap out of this little production was overwhelming. Almost as if Blair sensed his control about to slip away, he reappeared in the doorway. "I want you to both to leave. Jim and I have some unfinished business to attend to, don't we, Jim?"
Before Drake could reply, Jim was on his feet. "He's right. I'm fine."
Giving Jim's shirt sleeve a gentle tug, Drake whispered. "Are you sure? I can take care of this for you."
The words clung in the air as if suspended by some unseen hand. Jim's heart leapt as he met Drake's eyes. He knew exactly what "taking care" meant, and Jim knew better than to challenge the man that held his own life and the lives of many others in the palm of his hand. Jim straightened his back and drummed up his most confident smile. "I think we've already made our decision. There's a few finer points that Blair and I need to discuss. You know, getting his stuff together, rent, that kind of thing. We'll be fine."
Simon and Jim exchanged quick looks as Jim ushered Drake towards the door. There was more to this evening then met the eye, and Simon was determined to find out just what it was...
***************************
"Kind of hard to concentrate, I know." Blair smiled warmly at his partner as Jim reopened his eyes.
"You could say that." Jim readjusted his position on the couch and reclosed his eyes. He could feel Blair's eyes upon him, carefully watching for any signs of distress in his Sentinel. Blair's hand rested gently against his wrist, monitoring his heart rate. Jim's leg absently kicked the side of a cardboard box that rested on the floor next to him. His eyes snapped open once more.
"Easy, Jim. Why don't we take a break?"
"No, not now. I have to do this."
Blair's other hand gently moved towards Jim's eyes, shielding them from the many boxes that littered the floor. "Close your eyes. Let's try this again."
Jim allowed his lids to drift closed. The hand became a barrier, a shield form the nightmare that had now become part of his waking life. His mind wandered to that place, that secret place that only Blair could lead him to. There was a moment of hesitation as Jim allowed the dial to shimmer just beyond his reach. The numbers flickered before him as he listened to Blair slowly counting down the numbers from ten to one. With each number a soft click sounded in Jim's mind, reaffirming his position in his internal world. His Guide's voice faltered as the dial slowly clicked its way towards the final three numbers. Jim desperately attempted to suppress his own feelings of panic as the voice became more distant and distorted. Silence, nothing but a gray void of silence, no feeling, no pain, nothing...
***************************