Kinks in the System
Part 2

But Brown didn't shoot him. Instead, he turned around, his eyes going upwards. Rafe was still there, with the two other men. But Brown's blood went cold when he saw another black-dressed man had joined them, and the entire group's attention was being directed right at him.

Rafe looked across the wide distance at his partner's frantic face, and immediately tensed, forcing himself to show no reaction as a thousand questions were suddenly in his mind. He saw Jim barrelling his way over to him. but Brown didn't move, his gaze stayed locked on his partner. Behind him, Rafe could hear talking, but he didn't pay any attention.

Then he felt a sudden pain explode in his skull, and his eyes were still on his partner's horrified face as the lights went out in his world and left him in darkness.

The words 'search warrent' suddenly lost all meaning to Jim and Brown. Watching Rafe go down, struck in the back of the head by some dark object, and knowing these people also had Blair, the two men turned almost simultaneausly and jumped the black-garbed security man barring their way to the top floors.

Brown tackled the man around the waist, the suddenness of the attack making it easy to bring the man down. Jim quickly sent him into dream-land with a right hook, and the two men burst through the door he was guarding. Sure enough, there was a dark staircase going up. Brown followed Jim, taking the stairs two by two.

A door stood at the top of the stairs. A locked door.

Jim exchanged glances with Brown, and the two men, again moving as one, drove themselves into the door as hard as they could. It went flying open, making Jim lose his balance and stumble to his knees. Brown helped him up quickly and they looked around. This was the upper balcony all right. Below them, Jim quickly saw a swarm of black-clad men gathered around their fallen buddy. "H, we don't have a lot of time here."

"Come on." Henri led the way further down the dark balcony. It was almost just a hallway, barely enough room for the two police officers to walk side by side. An observation deck to the lower floor.

But Rafe and the men who'd grabbed him were nowhere in sight. Instead there was another door, leading to another staircase, this one going back down.

They went carefully, alert to any sound of an ambush. Jim was worried about a zone-out, he kept his hearing only slightly dialed up. But he couldn't hear anything.

The door at the bottom of this staircase was still cracked open- someone had left in a hurry. Jim moved fast, pushing it open recklessly and pointing his gun...at nothing.

"God dammit," Brown said quietly behind him. The door had led to a back street parking lot, and there was no sign of anyone. "You hear anything, Jim?"

He had his senses dialed up already, and shook his head. "Nothing,"

Brown took that as certainty that they weren't there. Jim had the knack for hearing and seeing things a little better than everyone else.

That was it. The two men were gone. "God dammit," Brown said again, louder, his frustration and the adrenaline of the last few minutes catching up with him.

Jim breathed in and out for a few moments, mentally struggling to keep calm. Blair was gone. Those bastards had just waltzed up the very first night and snatched the men from under their partners' noses.

With determination, he turned around and headed back inside. "Come on, Henri."

"Where the hell are we going?"

"We're going to have a talk with a certain FBI agent. And we're going to find our partners."





Blair didn't know how long he'd been shut up in the trunk of that car. He did know he was starting to feel so nausaus that when they finally let him out, he probably wouldn't be able to move.

Why him? Geez. It was almost ludicrous. This wasn't even his assignment. This was all Rafe, he'd just been there for support.

Uh oh. Rafe. If they'd grabbed him they must be making their play for the detective already. Who would have thought it? Blair should have known that the man who dressed like a cover of GQ would attract their attention. So what was the play here? Why would they have taken Blair? And what was happening with Rafe now?

Man. He really wished he'd agreed to let Jim scope the place out while they were in there. He was going to catch hell from the Sentinel when Jim found him.

And why wasn't anyone letting him out? The car had come to a stop about ten minutes ago, and he was still there, hands tied, breathing in vapors in the confined space. He almost wished someone would come and get him out. Of course, that would mean he would be confronted by the kidnappers and probably hurt in some way- these things did have patterns, he had learned. But that was almost better than laying on his side, hunched uncomfortably, left to wonder what was happening.

The gods must have been listening to him, Blair reflected as sudden noises right outside the trunk caught his attention. The hood swung open suddenly, and he squinted up at a well-dressed, ordinary looking man with a gun. "Enjoy your trip?"

Blair knew enough by now not to respond.

"All right, come on, get out of there." The man actually held out a hand and helped the bound Sandburg climb slowly out of the trunk. Blair took in his surroundings in surprise. It was a garage. An ordinary two-car garage from a slightly better than middle-class house.

Remembering he was still supposed to be playing a character, Blair glared at the man. "What the hell is all this, anyway? You get your kicks tying guys up and shutting them in trunks?"

The other man smiled slightly, gesturing towards the door leading in to the house. "This way, please. No, this isn't how I get my kicks. Like my associate told you earlier, we had a few questions about your boyfriend we were hoping to ask you."

He frowned in surprise. "You could have asked me questions anywhere, you didn't have to drag me to this place to find out the guy's sign."

"No, Blair. We HAD a few questions, innocent, harmless questions. Now, things have changed slightly."

"How the hell did you know my name?" Blair snarled unconvincingly, trying to hide his fear. Had they caught on to Rafe being a cop? How could they have?

Another polite smile. "Your date was shouting loud enough that everyone in Legends probably knows your name."

"Oh. So...what is this? Why am I tied up like this?"

They went up a flight of carpeted stairs, and into an airy dining room. "We'll explain everything to you soon enough, don't worry."

Blair could hear voices coming from the next room. The man led him in, and he almost faltered when he saw Rafe. His hands were also neatly tied, also in front of him, almost comfortably. The detective had matted blood in his hair, and an incredulous look on his face as he talked.

"-who you guys are, anyway." His voice stopped abruptly when he saw Blair. A fleeting look of unhappy surprise crossed his face, but he twisted it quickly into anger. "And what is this? Now you're bringing my ex-boyfriends in?"

The man sitting beside him was older, mid-fifties, maybe, with a full head of white hair and a calm expression on his face. "We've already explained to you, Mr. Leslie."

"You didn't say anything about him," Rafe nodded his head at Blair jerkily.

"He is simply insurance, I assure you."

Rafe stood up quickly, and Blair noted that no one made any attempt to stop him. Angrily, he paced towards Blair, then back to the couch, giving the younger man a meaningful look that told him to follow his leads. "You told me you grabbed me because some cops showed up suddenly and you thought I was one of them, right? Well, hell, of course I'm a cop."

Blair's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't show any other reaction, watching silently.

"That's my business, all right? I didn't see any signs on the door saying cops weren't allowed. Just like it's my business where I want to go at night. Damn Brown, I can't believe he showed up like that."

"And who exactly is Brown?" The white-haired man asked serenely.

"My nosy, bigotted partner, that's who. He probably followed me out tonight and thought I'd been forced to that club." He gave a very convincing face, full of tightly-smiling irony. "He's not the most openminded guy in the world. Now what does this have to do with you hitting me on the head and bringing me out here?"

"You admit you are a police officer. That's good. I hate being lied to. Now - and let me tell you straight out that the life of your pretty boyfriend here rests on your answers - exactly what were you doing at Legends tonight?"

Rafe briefly turned to Blair, making a slightly-disgusted face. "It was his idea. Said he'd heard it was a fun place. I was just looking for a good time."

The man glanced over at Blair, looking him up and down for a long moment.

Blair fidgetting self-consciously. Still clad in his mini-shorts and leather vest, he knew he must look ridiculous.

"What is a man like you doing with a leather slut like this?" he asked finally, calmly.

Blair bit back the indignant protest that rose to his lips instinctively.

Rafe shrugged, thinking fast. He knew well enough that Blair's life, and probably his own, would depend on him getting this man to believe he was harmless. "I arrested him for prostitution about two weeks ago." He ducked his head, almost embarrassed. "Look, I'm a cop, right? I can't exactly go out advertising the fact that I'm gay. I don't meet a lot of guys who...you know, are into it."

The man's face cleared suddenly, an almost sympathetic look growing in his eyes. "I see. You're so worried about your manly image that you're reduced to...things like this," The look he gave Blair was a look he'd give a pile of animal dung he stepped in in a brand new pair of Italian loafers. "Is it worth it, Mr. Leslie?"

"What?" Rafe met his eyes, properly defensive.

"Being a man. Is it worth reducing yourself to this?"

Blair was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was taking.

"What choice do I have?" Rafe demanded, suddenly angry. "Look, mister, you've apparently got money, friends, people who accept you for who you are. I don't, alright? Yeah, I hide in the closet. Big deal. There's no other option for me, alright? And no, being a cop isn't that great. It runs in the family, it's all I can do. What do you want from me? And why the hell am I defending myself to you?"

There was a brief pause, fueled with tension. Blair swallowed, certain Rafe had gone too far with his routine.

"John, please untie Ralf's hands, will you?" The man was smiling slightly.

Blair felt a breath of relief. Rafe had passed the test, whatever it was.

"Thank you," Rafe didn't sound very grateful- he sounded grumpy. "Now what? And what is he doing here?"

"Mr. Leslie, you are either sincere or a very good actor. And I plan to find out which one it is." His expression changed suddenly. "You say you've never heard of us. Well, I'll tell you now what exactly your options are, if you are sincere. We can offer you a brand new life, enjoying a kind of freedom you can't imagine. You can go anywhere, do anything you want. You can date the kind of men you deserve."

"Sounds too good to be true," Rafe replied flatly.

"I won't lie to you, there are dangers involved. The government doesn't approve of us. They send agents to try and stop us from enjoying the sexual freedom everyone in America should have. We must be careful." He glanced over at Blair. "Which is why we have to be sure you are exactly what you say you are."

"And how exactly do you want me to do that?"

His eyes glued to Rafe, the man gestured with one hand, and the younger man who had brought Blair inside pushed him forward suddenly, further into the room.

"There are many different...assignments we give our recruits to see if they're worthy to join our ranks. But this is a special case. I have to know that you are worthy to be given the tests. And if you fail, and prove yourself to be another agent sent in to oppress us and close us down, you and your boy will be shot and disposed of where no one will ever even think to find you."

He spoke with such a calm certainty that Blair felt chills going down his back.

"Where are you going with this, man?" Rafe blurted, glancing over at Blair. "Are you gonna tell me what you want me to do?"

"I want you to prove yourself. I want you to take him." He nodded at Blair. "Right here. Right now. Rape him if you have to. He's tied, and knowing his type, he would probably enjoy that more."

Rafe's face went white. "You're kidding me."

"No," he answered simply.

Blair listened as though from a great distance. Were they really talking about what he thought they were talking about? Were they asking Rafe to...no. No, couldn't be.

"Look, man, I don't know what kind of kinky stuff you're into, but raping tied men in front of spectators just isn't my thing, alright?"

"I'm afraid at this point it simply doesn't matter." The older man sat up, gazing at Rafe with unblinking eyes. "I know what you're going to say, Ralf. You didn't ask to be brought here. That's true, you didn't. And you may not even want what it is we're offering. Neither of those things matter. You're an incredibly handsome man, and I will be disappointed if you fail me and I'm forced to kill you and your boyfriend. But incredibly handsome men are everywhere. I'll get over my disappointment."

Rafe only had to look in the man's cold eyes to know for sure- he was serious. This was no joke. He had two options as far as this man was concerned- he either raped Blair Sandburg in front of the men that now stared at him, or he and Blair were shot as agents, and the FBI's case was ground to a halt.

He looked over at Blair, at his pale face and huge, round eyes that couldn't meet Rafe's.

And slowly Rafe started to approach him.



Oh god oh god oh god oh god.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He was not standing there with his hands tied, watching one of his best friends coming towards him to...no. It wasn't happening. Simple as that. Rafe wouldn't go along with this. He would fight his way out, somehow. Sure there were five other men in the room, and most of them were armed. Sure, if he didn't go through with this it would mean both their deaths. But surely Rafe knew Blair would rather die than be-

No. He wouldn't even think the word. Why was Rafe still coming closer?

Rafe kept moving, his body going on autopilot. What was he doing? What the hell was going on here? He was about to reach Blair, and still had no clue what he would do when he got there.

And Blair, Blair was looking at him in horrified shock. He thought Rafe was going to do it! What that bastard ordered him to do.

Rafe knew no FBI file was worth this, but what choice did he have?

He came up to Blair's side, turning back to the man perched on the couch. "This is the only way?" he asked, resigned.

White-Hair nodded with a smile. "The only way."

Rafe turned back to Blair. The voice of Agent Miller suddenly rang in his head- the speech he had given before setting Rafe loose for the night. Miller had made him see how important that was. For the one case of serial rape they knew about in Cascade, there were numerous cases in the larger cities. Innocent men attacked and brutalized, countless numbers. Miller had shamelessly mentioned Rafe's sister's boyfriend, telling Rafe, showing him, how much worse some of the other cases were. Some resulted in death.

This was what he was there for. If they didn't have the inside man- if they couldn't prove without a doubt that this was a ring of rapists and murderers and not just a free-spirited homosexual-rights group they were trying to oppress, they didn't have a chance at bringing the ring down. This would go on and on. And it was up to Rafe to make sure that didn't happen.

Brown had talked to him before he left- told him this was all optional. He could walk away whenever he wanted to and no one would think any worse of him.

But Rafe knew differently, thanks to Miller. He knew, of course, that the FBI agent had been manipulating him, getting him more firmly dedicated to the assignment. But that didn't mean the words he spoke were less than truth.

So it lay on his shoulders now. The pictures he had seen, lives he had read about in too many other cities, ruined by these men, they all echoed in his head.

Slowly he twisted his face in a smile, reaching out and stroking Blair's hair gently. "You know," he said thoughtfully. "This may not be so bad at that. I think," He ran his hand down Blair's arm. "someone should have taught you humiliation a long time ago."

Blair's eyes squeezed shut. A nightmare. Some kind of weird nightmare.

They blinked back open. No, he was still there, that lecherous grin was still on his face.

And his hand was now moving again, trailing Blair's upper body as Rafe circled him thoughtfully. "Yes. You know, maybe I'll like this kinky stuff after all. I really think I like you with these ropes on your hands." He reached out and grabbed Blair's hands, bringing them up painfully.

Blair winced. What are you doing? He wanted to scream, to turn around and slap some sense into the detective. He wanted to jerk away,do something to make Rafe aware of who and where he was again, to get that look off his face.

But the first feeling of physical pain suddenly made this entire thing slam home. It was happening. Rafe was going to do as ordered, to save their lives. No, God, please. He couldn't do it, please, someone stop him.

Rafe jerked Blair around by his hands, pulling him away from the man who'd been guarding over him and pushing him face first against the wall.

Blair let out a gasp, too stunned to react any other way. The open door was only a foot away, but he was being held too tightly to escape. Rafe's hands were still on his, his body was pressed right on top of him. Please, God...

"I think we should put on a real show for them, don't you, Blair?" Rafe hissed into his ear, making one of the men behind him chuckle. Rafe jerked him around again, to the side, pushing him forward slightly. "Now, I'm going to tell you what to do, and you're going to do it. Aren't you, you little whore?" He jerked his hands again.

Blair gasped, tears of pain coming to his eyes. He couldn't answer.

Rafe didn't seem to expect him to. "That's right. Time for you to do what I say. RUN!"

And suddenly Blair's hands were free and he was being pushed out the door. Stunned, Blair followed the instructions, too overcome with the cold shock of relief to think. He ran, going down the staircase and into the garage he'd been taken from. Behind him he heard a door slamming, and feet pounding.

And then he was outside. The door to the garage was open, and unguarded. The men who had taken him must have been a little too confident in their own abilities. Outside, in the sun. In the middle of a nice neighborhood that wasn't familiar at all to him.

"Alright, Rafe, let's get the hell out of here," Blair said over his shoulder, ecstatic. They had been too confident all right. But Rafe had shown them. Acting classes indeed! He had even Blair convinced he was about to...

He made a beeline to the front door of the house across the street, running right to the door and ringing the bell frantically.

After a long few seconds, an older woman opened the door, looking confused. "What? Who is it?"

"Ma'am, please, I need to use your phone."

She stared at him in shock.

Blair suddenly looked down at himself, knowing what kind of image he was presenting. Rafe could talk to her- he was still in GQ garb. "Rafe, tell her..."

The porch behind him was empty. The yard was empty. Rafe wasn't there.

Blair breathed in tightly. Oh, God. That door closing was Rafe- he had pushed Blair out and then blockaded the door so he could get away.

He was still in that house!

Blair wheeled. "Ma'am, I'm an observer with the Cascade police department. I know I don't look like it, but you have to let me use your phone."

To his surprise, she smiled and opened the door. "Come on in. Just don't do anything to upset Jeeves."

Blair went in gratefully. Jeeves? If she had a butler, why was she answering her own-

A growl stopped him in his tracks. There, right by the small wooden table that held a phone, was a rottweiler. A huge rottweiler.

The woman moved past his frozen form gracefully, snapping a finger at the dog. "Down, Jeeves."

Blair knew then why she wasn't scared to let him in her house, and he smiled at her slightly before going to the phone and dialing Simon's office.

"Taggart."

"Joel, where's Simon?"

"Blair! My God, where are you? Is Rafe there? People here are going nuts-" He stopped abruptly, getting a hold of himself. "Simon's not here. He's out with Jim, scouting out Legends. Jim has his cell phone."

Blair hung up, knowing Joel would understand his urgency. He dialed the second number quickly.

Jim answered on the first ring. "Ellison."

"Jim!" Blair almost gasped in relief.

"Blair! Where the hell are you? Are you alright?"

"Calm down, Jim. I'm fine for now, but Rafe is-"

"Where are you? I'll be there in two minutes."

"Uh. I don't know." Blair looked over at the woman. "Where are we?"

She raised her eyebrows. "You don't know-"

"Please, hurry. This is an emergency."

She took the phone from him in response. "Who is this?"

"This is Detective Jim Ellison. Who the hell is this and where is my partner?"

Properly assured, the woman quickly spoke again. "You're in Cascade? We're about twenty minutes down the highway. Here's what you do..." and she proceeded to give careful directions. Finally she gave the phone back to Blair.

"Jim?"

"Blair, we're in the car now. Just stay in the house. You and Rafe stay out of sight, and make sure you don't answer the door until you hear my voice. I'm serious about-"

"Jim, Rafe isn't with me. They've got him."

"What?!? Shit! What happened?"

"Long story. Just get here as soon as you can."

"Stay on the phone with me, Chief."

"I'm not going anywhere," Blair assured him.

For a few minutes there were tense pauses as Jim drove. He reported to Blair that Simon was with him, and that Brown was right on their tails. Blair kept one eye out the window, watching the house.

Suddenly he froze. "Jim, they're leaving the house!"

He could hear the sound of the truck speeding up even over the phone. "Are they coming towards your location?"

Blair watched. Two men, ones in that room with him, came outside. They stood in the yard, looking around and exchanging a few words. And then the door to the garage opened, and the black car whose trunk he knew intimately pulled into the driveway, stopping in the street right in front of the house. As Blair watched, the two men got in. "They're leaving! Jim, they're driving off. Rafe must be with them! Damn, what do I do, Jim?"

There was a pause as Jim related the news to Simon. A brief rustling resulted in the captain's voice sounding in Blair's ear. "Sandburg, just stay where you are. You can't follow them, and you're the only one who knows what these guys look like."

"What? You mean just let them go?"

A pause. "Yeah., let em go." Simon had to choke out the words.

Blair couldn't answer as he watched through the window. The car pulled away, leaving a house he was sure was empty, and taking the man who'd just saved Blair's life at the risk of his own. "Simon...I can't.."

"You have no choice. We'll be there in five minutes, Blair. Just hang on."

Blair didn't answer. Hang on. No problem for him.

What the hell was there for Rafe to hang on to, now?





Funny thing about dying. It seemed like it would be the hardest thing in the world. After spending his entire life, especially the last few years- his tenure as a police officer- trying to escape death, he figured it would be devastating to die. After dodging bullets, and talking his way out of countless situations, relying on his fellow officers, his partner...

And yet, laying there all alone, dying, as he knew he was, he was actually pretty relaxed. It was easy. It was a hell of a lot easier than what he was going through ten minutes ago.

Rafe hadn't known exactly what he was going to do, those few moments before he'd forced Blair's getaway. Even when he was untying the student's hands, he hadn't known exactly what the plan was. Self-sacrifice wasn't a big part of Rafe's nature- he admitted that. Now he would take a bullet for any of his fellow detectives, no question. But martyring himself when there was any other option just wasn't his thing.

Unfortunately, he hadn't seen an option this time. He had no idea where they were, he didn't even know how to get out of the house they were in- he had awakened in that living room. Besides, with his head throbbing the way it was, he doubted he could have outrun any of the men in that room watching them.

So he shoved Blair out the door, praying in that instant that Sandburg wouldn't be brave and come back, and make his move pointless. He slammed the door shut, and wheeled to face the men behind him.

White Hair was off the couch, rage in his eyes, and the other men approached him. "Go get him!" White Hair had bellowed.

The men came at him two at a time, and Rafe fought them off as best he could. But he was weak, and they were armed, and a single gun clubbed into his temple had brought him down. The men then tried to go past him to the door, but he threw his body against it, hoping Blair had had enough time to get away.

White Hair was no longer the calm, debonair man he'd been five minutes ago. He was seething. "Forget about the other one. He's gone by now. This was a trick, all of it, right? You're just another cop trying to get inside."

Rafe grinned weakly from his undignified position sprawled up against the door. "Something like that. And Blair's a cop too. He'll have the entire force down here in five minutes."

White Hair seemed unconcerned. "We can kill you and be out of here in four, don't worry."

Rafe had struggled gamely as they lifted him, but waves of nausea and pain hit him in rounds, and he could barely hold himself on his feet as they gathered around him.

"I think we ought to get something out of this catastrophe," White Hair had commented. "After all, I'm losing a very nice house over this." He had the same lascivious smile on his face as when he'd been watching Rafe approach Blair.

Rafe couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless. There were only five men there, he should have fought harder. He should have gotten away. Instead, he just stood there swaying while they did whatever they wanted.

They hadn't raped him, and for that he knew he would be grateful for the remainder of his life- however few minutes that would be. What they had done was strip him and beat him until he couldn't feel the pain anymore- he just floated around it like a breeze. Endless feet kicked his chest, his stomach, his legs, his face. He lost track after the first minute, certain more men must have joined in. And the entire time they did their best to humiliate him, laughing about his pretty boy body, and how it wasn't ever going to be so pretty again.

And then one of them had shot him in the chest. As quick as that. And they left him there, in that living room, to bleed out the rest of his life on the white carpet.

And now he didn't know how long he'd been laying there. He knew he was fading out- he could tell from the way his vision went hazy and his mind slipped in and out of focus.

He wondered how long it would take. Sure, dying wasn't as bad as he thought it would be- it was almost peaceful, actually. But it wasn't particularly pleasant.

Oh, well. Either way, it would all be over soon.





Blair watched the car pulling away. Rafe was in that car, he knew it. And Simon was telling him to play it cool, to hang on and wait for them to get there.

His thoughts whirled. Simon was talking in his ear about something, about not feeling guilty or some BS like that, but he hardly heard it.

Damn it, he couldn't just sit there. Rafe had saved his life. No, not even his life. Rafe had put himself in danger from these men just to save Blair's dignity and....

"Simon, I'm sorry. I can't do this." Blair hung the phone up suddenly and turned to the woman whose house he had invaded. "I need your car."

To his surprise, she grabbed the keys from off the table and tossed them at him. "Try and bring it back," she requested.

He smiled. He'd have to remember to come back here and thank her, whatever happened. "I'll try," he promised. Then he took off, going out the door and down to the driveway.

He got in to the dark blue sports car and started the engine quickly. It purred to life, and he put it in reverse. No way were they getting away from him, no way.

He backed out of the driveway, and slammed the brakes when a familiar blue and white truck came roaring through a turn on to the street, followed by a brown sedan. Brown. Knowing he didn't even have time to explain things to Jim and Simon, Blair paused long enough so they could see he was in the car, and put it into gear, pressing the gas.

Immediately the truck started following, going down the street away from the sight of their kidnapping.



Rafe heard the noises outside though from a great distance. His mind went from floating somewhere near Mars back to his body suddenly, and he heard the sirens of a police car.

Hmm. They were out there. Funny. Was it possible they would find him before he died?

Nope. He'd given himself up. Hopeless, lost cause. Final inning for the Rafeman.

And, confirming his thoughts, the siren went suddenly past the house and further down the street.

And suddenly he thought of Brown.

He thought of Jim and Blair. Blair, geez, the kid was going to really punish himself for Rafe dying, wasn't he? That man would blame himself for the weather if he thought he could get away with it. But, hey, Jim would be there to straighten him out.

But Brown. Man, that was going to suck. Brown would feel just as guilty, maybe even more so. Nevermind that it was Rafe who told Brown repeatedly not to worry, to let him go alone, that everything would be fine. Brown would punish himself, hard. And he would no longer have a partner to help him get through it.

Rafe's breaths were getting shorter and shorter, but he suddenly had his will back. He couldn't die. He couldn't do that to Henri. So he gasped life into himself painfully and breathed out a word. "Wait."

It was ridiculous- no one could hear him. But it made him feel better to at least have made the attempt.





Blair was about to turn the corner at the end of the street, hoping the car his kidnappers were in would still be in sight, when suddenly Jim's truck slammed to a halt. Brown had to ram the brakes and turn the wheel to avoid hitting him from behind, and Blair slowed down.

He watched Jim suddenly jump out of the driver's seat and race back down the road, not even stopping to shut the door.

Alert, Blair put his own borrowed car into park and got out, running after his partner. Henri, blocked from moving forward, climbed out of the sedan. "What's going on?" he shouted to Jim.

Jim kept running, but glanced over his shoulder. "Rafe's still in that house! And he's hurt, bad."

Brown was off like a shot. It didn't occur to him to ask how Jim might have known that- he just accepted it as truth and knew nothing else but that his partner was in trouble.

The four men raced down the block, leaving their cars in the middle of the road, going to help their friend.

Rafe heard the sounds of life in the house. It was sudden, and he was certain the kidnappers had watched the police driving off and had returned to finish what they'd started.

Now reinfused with the desire to live through this nightmare case, Rafe tried to sit up. Tried to scoot away, to move his head, anything. But his body refused to respond to his commands. Finally his tense body relaxed. It was hopeless then. This was it.

"Oh, God! Rafe!"

What was that? That didn't sound like White Hair.

Suddenly a blurred face appeared in front of him. "God, Rafe, hang on. Simon called an ambulance.

There were more noises, more voices, but Rafe didn't here a thing. Maybe he was seeing things- hallucinating before he went over that final line into lifelessness, but for a moment his vision cleared, and he saw that the blur in his sight was Henri Brown.

And he reflected before he let go of his body that it was nice of fate to let him see his partner one last time.



Jim froze in the doorway. He had followed Rafe's slowing, whisper-thin heart beat, had known the man would be severely hurt. But he hadn't been prepared for this. The handsome detective had been stripped naked, his body and face were covered in growing bruises, in bloody gashes and angry red marks. And his chest was red, pumping blood out onto the puddle in the carpet with every one of the decreasing beats his heart forced out. "Oh, God! Rafe!"

He was suddenly thrown to the side as they caught up with him, and Henri Brown almost sobbed when he took in the condition of his partner. He fell to his knees beside the dying man and grabbed his hand. "God, Rafe, hang on. Simon called an ambulance." He saw the eyes focus briefly, and then the light seemed to go out in them and the heavy lids closed. "No!" Henri practically screamed. "God dammit, Rafe, don't do this to me! You're going to be fine, you hear me? Open your eyes, you're going to be fine!" He became aware of a hand on his shoulder, and glanced briefly away from his partner's slack face to see Blair Sandburg standing over him, his watering eyes burning with guilt.

"Is he...he isn't..."

"No!" Brown snapped harshly, turning back to the body on the ground. He suddenly, in a jerking movement, pulled his shirt off over his head and pressed the bunched fabric into Rafe's chest, trying to stop the flowing blood. "He's not dead. You're not dead, you hear me? Damn you, you piece of shit. Open your eyes!" His voice caught, and he drew in a shuddering breath. His voice softened to pleading. "Rafe, please. Please, man. You have to hang on. You can hear me, I know you can. Just hang on, we're getting help."

Jim stared, barely registering Simon coming up to his side. He did become aware of sirens- the ambulance Simon had called while still racing down the street. Hurry, he willed them mentally.

Blair backed up, in shock, not believing this could have happened so suddenly. He felt Jim's hand on his back as he arrived at the Sentinel's side, and saw Simon out of the corner of his eye, looking at the two men on the ground in despair, as though already certain of the outcome this day would have.

Brown was openly sobbing now, unashamed in the sight of three of his best friends. "Come on, Rafe. Hold on. Hold on, hold on," he kept mumbling it, even as his hands grew wet and the shirt he held to his friend's chest was saturated with blood.



Rafe was floating somewhere, in a white daze. There was a vacuum roaring in his head, a lightness about him he'd never felt before.

But he knew what it was. He was letting go. His body was finally giving out. And he accepted it with a reluctance that surprised him, heading deeper into the haze.

And then there was a voice in his ear. "Come on, Rafe. Hold on, hold on, hold on..."

Brown. He would have known his voice anywhere. Begging him not to go further. Crying, it sounded like. Brown.

Just like that, Rafe fought. He fought against then lightness in his head, the lack of feeling in his body. He fought the haze, struggling to turn around and go back towards the pain, towards his partner.





It wasn't often nurses and doctors in the emergency room saw Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison together. Usually one was on a stretcher. Several of them commented on it, to each other and to the men themselves, as they passed through the waiting room on their way somewhere else.

Jim and Blair answered the remarks with tight smiles, sitting side by side, silently keeping vigil for some word from a doctor.

Simon had taken Brown almost bodily out of the room an hour ago. Henri had been sitting there for hours, not moving a muscle, his eyes staring at a wall but seeing nothing. It was like a light had gone out in his head. And it had taken Simon dragging him inch by inch to get him to leave the chair and the waiting room to go to the cafeteria, where Jim knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to eat a thing.

God, this was rotten. Really rotten. Blair had told the three waiting men the details of what had happened in that house, of how Rafe had fooled everyone- even Blair- into thinking he was going along with their plans, then freeing Blair and letting him escape before Blair even realized what was happening. And this was what had happened as a result.

Jim was thinking as he sat there of the comment he had overheard Rafe making as he and Blair had left for the club...had it only been last night? When Rafe had said flat-out that Jim wouldn't be concerned with the assignment if Blair wasn't involved somewhere. He was ashamed that his behavior made Rafe think that his concern was only for Blair. And he vowed after this never to give Rafe, or Brown, or any of the Major Crimes detectives he was so close to, a chance to think that, ever again.

He just hoped it wasn't too late.

Jim suddenly felt a new presence in the room, and looked up hoping to see the doctor's face. Instead, he saw the tight, careful features of Agent Miller. And he felt his anger skyrocket. "What are you doing here?"

Blair turned and followed his gaze, and stiffened when he saw the FBI man.

"I came to see how Detective van Rij was doing."

"We don't know." Jim answered flatly.

But Miller didn't take the hint and go away. Instead, he came closer, turning to Blair. "All right, Sandburg, you think you can fill me in on what exactly happened here?"

"Not now." Blair answered firmly.

"Listen, Mr. Sandburg-"

"Not. Now." Blair ground out, turning away with finality.

"What's going to happen, Miller?" Jim asked, taking the agent's attention away from his partner. "With this group you're after?"

Miller sighed and sat himself in a chair. "We're through in Cascade. Hopefully we can locate the men who kidnapped Sandburg and van Rij. We've got enough on them to shut this one operation down. In the other cities? Who knows? The group will go on alert, that's for sure. Hopefully they'll shut down their own factions, if they know we're on to them."

Jim snorted quietly. Yeah, that was likely.

"This was all for nothing, wasn't it?" Blair commented suddenly beside him.

Jim turned concerned eyes on his partner. "What do you mean?"

"Everything he's going through in there. If he dies. It'll all be for nothing. We didn't accomplish a damned thing."

Jim wanted to argue- but what could he say. Blair knew the facts as well as he did. If he thought it wasn't worth Rafe fighting for his life in an emergency room, Jim couldn't argue.

Miller chose not to answer either, and Blair sank further into his funk. When it became apparent the FBI man wouldn't accomplish a thing sitting there, he left.



When the doctor who had briefly spoken to them an hour after Rafe's arrival finally returned to the waiting room, Jim and Blair still sat, Brown was hunched over in his own seat, Simon was pacing back and forth restlessly.

"Excuse me?"

They all jumped into alertness. "What? What's happening?" Simon blurted.

The doctor looked over the concerned faces in front of him. "I'll tell you, I've never seen anything like it."

God, why was it doctors could never just say whether someone was dead or alive? They always had to preface everything with an editorial on the situation.

As if reading Jim's thought- or, conceivably, reading his expression- the man's speech stopped before it could start. "He's going to live."







One month later, Major Crimes was colorfully decorated with Welcome Back banners. Rafe's empty desk was covered in cards and notes, flowers from several different people, all celebrating today, when he would finally return to work. Simon was keeping him at his desk until he was sure Rafe had recovered, but he would be back.

Rafe took it all in in the elevator with a broad smile. Yeah, he was back. Still moving slowly, still on pain medication, still keeping nightmares of death at bay. But he was back.

Blair was beaming at him from his own chair, and Rafe was glad to see the glow back in the anthro student's eyes. He had visited Rafe often, in the hospital and at his apartment, and Rafe had tried to talk the kid into feeling better about the whole thing. Sometimes cases just went bad, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Rafe himself hid his own feelings of...well, fear, whenever he remembered that the FBI still hadn't located the people who had grabbed him and Blair, or their white-haired leader. But he concentrated on recovering, on getting back to work.

Standing at his side in the elevator, Henri Brown squeezed his partner on the shoulder, giving him the strength to step into the office and face the welcome his friends had prepared.

Rafe found himself thinking in the moment before he was set upon by gabbing well-wishers about how much the man at his side meant to him. During the last month, they had grown even closer. Brown saw him every day, whenever he could, and helped him in a million different ways, making his journey from death's door as easy as possible. In turn, Rafe had told Henri of his feelings about his brush with death. He told him how easy it was to give up and accept the end. And how only Brown's voice had called him back and given him the will to fight.

They were closer now than Rafe had ever been to anyone. In fact, Rafe felt closer to everyone in this office. He felt his eyes had been opened by what had happened. He was no longer on his own here. This was his family, his friends, all wrapped up into one.

The first day of the rest of his life, he found himself thinking with a corny smile as he greeted the crowd that stood grinning at him. The first day of a new life, anyway.

And he couldn't wait to start living again.