The sterile environment of the hospital seemed surreal, oddly calming after the earlier fiasco at the University. Jim sat silently in one of the hard chairs in the waiting area, listening half-heartedly as Blair animatedly talked with the TA lying in the hospital bed in room 303. After the mess with Alex a few hours ago, all Jim wanted was to let his mind wander a bit -- and wander it did as he absently picked up on the sound of Blair's voice floating his way.
Deciding that he was eavesdropping, Jim turned down his hearing, giving Blair his privacy, and closed his eyes. He'd just sit quietly and wait for Sandburg. He felt a headache nagging at the base of his skull, and he was more than content to sit quietly for a bit and attempt to decompress from the day's activities. He wanted to remove himself from the things that had happened, if he could. All he wanted to do was forget Alex even existed, but he knew that was something he would never be able to do, no matter how far down in his psyche he repressed her memory.
Alex
would be haunting him for the rest of his days.
~~~~~&~~~~
"So
you're sure you're going to be all right? I mean… you had me worried there for
a minute."
Blair shifted nervously from foot to foot in the small room, too agitated
to sit in a chair or to stand still.
"I'll
be fine, Blair. Stop worrying! The doc said I could be out of here in a day or
two. They're mostly keeping me here for observation." The redhead smiled as
she attempted to shift into a more comfortable position.
Blair
immediately reached for the pillow, fluffing it and readjusting it behind her,
being careful not to jostle her injured arm, which hung in a sling against her
ribs. "Good, I--I'm glad to hear that. I know how scary everything got
earlier and I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for getting you hurt.
For letting Alex Barnes get anywhere near you…" Blair's voice trailed off
as Denise raised her hand, exasperation written clearly across her face.
"Easy,
Blair. This wasn't your fault. It was that wacko's fault. She hurt me,
not you. Don't be an idiot by beating yourself up over this. We're cool, I
promise." Denise softened her words with a smile, and Blair relaxed a bit.
"Good. I can't help but feel guilty…" Chuckling softly at Denise's vexed sigh, Blair held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I understand. I just wanted to know… well… I figured, after all that happened today, you might want to sign on with another professor, which I would totally understand if you did."
A
soft chuckle escaped the figure in the bed. "Trying to get rid of me are
you, Mr. Sandburg? Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm not going anywhere.
I can tell working for you will be nothing short of exciting, and I admit I'm a
bit of an adrenaline junkie. So, sorry, I'm not getting off the wild ride just
yet. You'll just have to keep putting up with me."
Blair
laughed softly and nodded. He understood all too well. Her words as brought back
a not-so-distant memory of him trying to explain the exact same feeling to one
bull-headed detective.
"Okay,
gotcha loud and clear. You're not going anywhere. Which, by the way, I must
admit is just fine by me."
Denise
laughed again, her tone teasing. "Good, 'cause that's the way it's going to
be. Glad to see we agree."
"Don't be too glad. Wait 'til you see the stack of work I'll have waiting for you once you get out of here."
The
issue settled, the two continued joking for a few more minutes. Blair knew Jim
was still waiting, so he made his apologies. Bidding Denise goodbye, the
anthropologist left, leaving her to rest, and went out to meet his patient
partner.
~~~~&~~~~
The
ride home from the hospital was quiet and rather tense. All the forced joviality
Blair had displayed while talking with his TA had evaporated immediately upon
getting into the truck, leaving a pensive and introspective version of the man
in its wake. Jim still hadn't been able to pry much out of Blair since they'd
left Cascade General, other than a few short sentences here and there. Normally,
Jim would have been all for the "checking the emotions at the door"
tactic, but he couldn't take that route this time.
He
wasn't going to ignore what had transpired, letting things build and build until
both he and Blair became unhinged. No, hindsight was 20/20, and he was going to
use the past to make the future better. No more fear-based responses -- wasn't
that the line from a chapter in Blair's dissertation? The phrase had at one
time, not so very long ago, seemed threatening to Jim's psyche. Well,
threatening or not, it seemed appropriate in this situation; everyone involved
had been operating on fear -- masking it with anger -- and allowing the
deep-seated emotion to govern his or her actions. Well, not anymore.
Come
hell or high water, he and Blair Sandburg were going to have a very serious chat
once they got home.
~~~~&~~~~
Jim
watched silently as Blair went through the front door and headed straight for
the kitchen. Once there, the younger man began foraging through the
refrigerator, apparently having developed a ravenous appetite all of a sudden.
Sighing softly, Jim shut the door to the loft and locked it. He walked slowly
toward his friend.
"Hey,
Jim. What do you want for dinner, man? Not much here to choose from. Tell you
what, tonight dinner's on me. Let's just get something delivered. Sound good to
you?" Blair's disembodied voice floated up from within the refrigerator as
he continued poking at jars and containers, searching for food.
For
a moment, Jim considered letting things go. After all, it was obvious Sandburg
didn't want to discuss what had happened. And what right did he, 'king of the
great clam-up,' have to force Blair to talk? Regardless, he had to try.
"Blair…" Jim spoke softly, wanting to keep things low-key, if
possible.
Blair,
as usual, read the sentinel's mind. "Ah, Jim. I... I don't really think we
need to get into this right now," the younger man responded hoarsely as he
moved away from the refrigerator, slamming its door shut. Walking to the
counter, Blair placed his hands on the smooth surface, letting his head drop.
"I mean… what would be the point? It's over. She's back in the loony bin.
Case closed."
Jim
swallowed deeply, knowing how hard and painful this was going to be for them
both. But seeing Blair in the process of attempting to drown Alex had frightened
him badly. The experience had been too much like déjà vu for Jim, bringing
back haunting visions of Blair's near-death. A sickly scene flashed across his
inner eye -- pulling Blair's waterlogged body out of the foul fountain, the ashy
pallor of the younger man's skin, the deathly blue tint to his lips. The body
that had housed Blair's soul had lain so still, a silent and broken testament to
a shattered friendship.
Shaking
himself out of the morbid memories, Jim's resolve strengthened. No, never again.
They would talk about this now!
"I'm
sorry to be selfish in this matter, Chief, but we need to talk. Right here,
right now," Jim curtly stated as he walked around the tense young man and
headed into the living room, sitting down on the sofa. Closing his eyes in a
vain attempt to ease his growing headache, he leaned back into the soft
cushions, and waited patiently for his friend to follow his lead.
Blair
sighed deeply, shoulders drooping, and gave in to his partner's wishes. Sitting
down himself, he ran a weary hand over his face. Jim was right -- it was better
to handle this conversation now than to let things fester.
"Okay,
man, shoot. What do you want to talk about? No, wait. Let me answer that for
you. You want to know how I could possibly come close to killing Alex, is that
it?" Blair abruptly got up from the couch and nervously began pacing the
floor of the living room.
"Well,
Chief, that would be a start." The harsh words slipped out before Jim could
stop them. He sighed as he watched Blair tense up even more. One of these days
the two of them would learn to stop dancing on eggshells.
"Okay, sure, I'll tell you why. Maybe because she killed me, man! Maybe because she tried to kill Denise! Maybe because… because…" Blair paused, his face flushed with anger as he turned to face his friend. He looked Jim straight in the eye, blue on blue, his glare's intensity almost overwhelming Jim.
"Maybe
because she put a wedge between us, Jim. A wedge I helped put into place, thanks
to my own stupidity. Maybe it's because ever since I met her, your trust in me
has dwindled more and more. The mess with the diss was just the icing on the
cake. Another reminder of a long, long list of screw-ups by yours truly, Blair
Sandburg!"
Jim
watched the wretched display of raw emotion on Sandburg's face and realized it
mirrored the turmoil within himself. Alex had done this. She had ripped open a
wound that had barely begun to heal, wreaking havoc with their lives once again.
Jim hated her for that. Hell, he more than hated her, he despised her.
For
a split second, the briefest of moments, Jim had contemplated helping Blair
drown the woman. All sense and sensibility had left him and, for that moment, he
had wanted his senses wide open, to be able to feel Alex die. To know the exact
moment when her life left her, when her body became nothing more than an empty
shell. To do to her what she had done to Blair….
Fortunately,
he had squashed that feeling and carried on. Which, he knew, was exactly what
Sandburg had had to do. Now they were both dealing with the aftermath, and it
wasn't pretty. The cop knew all the cards needed to be laid out on the table
once and for all. The air between them needed to be cleared, so that the two men
could move forward in their partnership -- their friendship -- learning to trust
one another unequivocally.
When
he spoke again, Jim was shocked to hear the open emotion in his voice.
"Chief, you need to understand something. And for once, I want you just to
listen. Not to talk, not to interrupt, just simply to listen."
Blair
nodded stiffly and crossed his arms, waiting impatiently for the other man to
continue.
"I know that both of us have had some issues lately. That it's gotten harder to simply trust each other without reservation. And I realize how much of that was my fault, and I want to apologize to you. No, hear me out, Blair." Jim raised a hand to halt Blair's protests.
"I
should have given you a chance to explain about things about Alex and the
dissertation. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, assuming the worst. I
tend to do that, assume things. It's a nasty habit I'm trying to break."
Jim
relaxed a little as Blair smiled softly at the half-hearted joke; so far, so
good.
"Anyway,
I wanted you to know, to understand completely, that I do trust you. I
trust you with my life and my sanity. You have no reason to fear that I'll turn
on you. I've made mistakes, I know, but I hope you realize that you can trust
me."
Blair's
eyes hovered on some indistinguishable spot on the floor, his face a blank mask,
but he nodded his head.
Jim
rose slowly from the couch and took a few steps closer to Blair. "Just so
you know, I wanted to help you back there, Chief. I wanted to throw my badge
away and help you push her under the water. I felt that desire and I wanted to
give in badly. And I know there was probably a part of you that wanted to see
her die. What else could you expect of yourself in that situation, Blair? I
mean, the woman who almost succeeded in ending your life came back! What normal,
sane person wouldn't want revenge? I know I did!"
The
younger man shook his head slightly, the slight tremble in his shoulders the
only visible sign of the turmoil brewing within. His voice was soft, cracking
under the weight of the emotional strain he was under. "I... I wasn't
thinking of revenge, Jim. Well, maybe a little, but not really. Basically, I
just wasn't thinking. I mean, it was like I was right back in the day,
being held under the water, feeling all those same emotions as if it were really
happening all over again. And then when I saw Denise go down, I just lost
it." He swallowed hard. "God, I almost killed her, Jim. I'm no better
than she is, than most of the criminals out there. I really wanted to, man. I
almost did…." Blair's voice trailed off as he ran shaking hands over his
face.
Jim
reached out, grabbing Blair by the shoulders, forcing the younger man to look
him in the eye, to listen to him.
"You
are human. And as a member of the human race, you are subject to feelings. But
what makes you and me different from the criminals we hunt down, is the fact
that we overcame those feelings, however powerful they were. A part of you may
have wanted to kill her, but you didn't.
Only you had the power in that moment to make that choice, and you chose to let
her live. You are not a murderer or a criminal. You are a victim suffering from
post-traumatic stress syndrome, who wanted to end the pain. You didn't screw up,
Chief. You handled yourself just fine out there today. Better than most cops I
know would have, myself included."
Blair
closed his eyes, swallowing deeply. When he spoke, the words were choked with
emotion. "T-thanks, man. That means more… more than you know. I… I
needed to hear that...." Before he could finish, Jim reached out and drew
the young man into a bone-crushing hug.
"I
know, Chief. I know."
Blair
headed to the couch without protesting, "You mean after the day we've both
had, don't you? But hey, I'm not one to look a gift-horse in the mouth. Just as
long as it's remotely edible."
Sitting down, he ducked, just barely avoiding being hit by a flying
pillow.
"Cute,
Chief. Keep it up and you'll be on dish detail." Jim chuckled as he headed
off to tackle the prospect of what to fix for dinner. Maybe Sandburg was right;
take-out was definitely the way to go.
He
smiled gently as a whispered, "Thanks, Jim," followed him into the
kitchen.
~~~~~&~~~~
Blair
settled down on the couch, leaning back and attempting to relax as he listened
to Jim puttering around the kitchen. He prayed Jim was right. He never wanted to
feel this way again, to hold another's fragile life in his hands and know the
power to take that life away. He hoped this was
post-traumatic stress syndrome, or some other psychological condition that
could, at least in part, excuse his behavior at the fountain. Anything at all,
just as long as he wasn't turning into a cold-blooded killer.
Blair
reached for the remote to the TV, not wanting to follow the dark path his
thoughts were threatening to take him down. Turning the television on, he
started flicking through channels, watching the endless parade of mindless
drivel until he came across Channel Eight. The news was on. He felt a pang deep
within his chest as a picture of Alex Barnes appeared to the right of the
reporter.
Almost
of its own volition, his thumb moved and pressed the volume button. He wanted to
hear this, to hear how this particular facet of his life was going to be
sensationalized by the media. The reporter's voice filled the room, his diction
clear and precise as he mechanically recounted the day's earlier pandemonium.
"The top story in the news tonight...
"Alex Barnes has been caught. The public breathed a collective sigh of relief as the notorious felon was handcuffed and taken away in police custody from Rainier University earlier today. Barnes has been charged with assaulting a young woman on campus and with the attempted kidnapping of Blair Sandburg, the anthropologist who cited her as a 'Sentinel' and was recently cleared of fraud charges by both Rainier university and the federal government."
~~~~&~~~~
"... and was recently cleared of fraud charges by both Rainier University and the federal government. Apparently, Barnes had some sort of vendetta against Mr. Sandburg, and things played out violently when she sought him out on campus grounds..."
Across
town, in room 629, in the locked psych ward of Cascade General, a lone woman lay
restrained securely to her bed. An eerie light filtered across the barren,
sterile room, casting surreal imagery across the walls.
The
reporter on the television, whose voice was filtering in from the common area of
the psych ward, was nothing more than an antagonist. He was mocking her with his
silky tone of voice, reading her life story as if it were fiction rather than
truth. He was tearing her character to shreds, painting her as a monster instead
of a martyr. Angrily she pulled at the bonds, ignoring the piercing pain as the
straps dug into her wrists. Pain meant nothing anymore. She now had permanent
residence set up here in hell.
How?
How in the world did I fail again? It should have been such an easy task.
Take Sandburg and make him help her find peace. Yet again, things had fallen
apart. Her zeal had cost her! When would she learn?
Again,
Alex pulled against her restraints, anger welling up within her like a consuming
fire. It wasn't fair! The light from the hall seemed to glow brightly, stinging
her eyes as her fractured senses began to spike out of control. Not fair, not
fair, not fair!!!
The bonds against her skin began to chafe, tearing away at her already fragile control. What the heck was in these restraints, poison? They wanted to kill her! That's what this was, they wanted her dead! Jim Ellison wanted her dead! He'd sooner she die than get her hands on his precious guide!
"Are
you poisoning me now??" Her scream echoed off the four walls of the room,
grating against her hearing like fingernails on a chalkboard. Why, why won't
they listen? Why wouldn't Blair help? She only wanted peace. Blissful and
wonderful, her treasured peace. A state of calm where her senses no longer
betrayed her, where she could function normally. And she was not going to get
that here. Not in this place, not in this horrid pit!
"LET
ME OUT!" Her manic screams tore through her mind, her hearing spiking. She
had to get out, the bonds were cutting her, the sheets setting her skin on fire.
And that humming, where was that humming coming from? Torture! That's what it
was, torture!
Her
mind seemed to leave her as she lay writhing on the bed, whimpering as sights
and sounds pummeled her senses, showing no mercy in their ruthless assault. Was
there no one to take away her pain?
"Easy
there, quiet now!" A gentle yet commanding voice sifted through the red
haze of her mind, stealing away some of the intense agony. A feather-light touch
brushed across her sweaty brow, and a moment later she felt a prick of white-hot
pain in her arm. Feeling something rushing through her veins, she moaned her
defeat, knowing she was headed into drugged out oblivion.
"That's
it, sweetie. Just go with the flow and let the liquid peace calm you. You'll
feel all better real soon." The gentle voice spoke, as the gentle caress
was resumed on her face, soothing her as the drug filtered through her battered
system.
The
voice began to fade as the drug pulled her deeper and she did not resist. She
had had enough pain in this wretched life…
All
she wanted was peace.
The End
E-mail
the authors:
MaBrown: [email protected]
Brate: [email protected]
Gemini: [email protected]
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