Author: Jvantheterrible

Date: June 13^TH - 26^TH, 2001

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: J/B

Content Alert: Language, Angst, M/M Sex, Angst, Schmoop, Angst…any questions?

Disclaimer: Come on you guys, you ALL know I don't own these guys, and I'm certainly not making any dough here…just playing!

Author's Notes: Okay, so look. I've been writing fanfic for two years now, and I've NEVER…and I mean EVER…gotten so much feedback on one story as I have from this 'Have I Told You Lately?' thing. LOL. Perhaps NOW would be a good time for me to come up with my own hot male characters, and put them into a masses-acceptable novel. Whaddya' think? <g> AND…sorry this part took so long…my muse and RL are just NOT cooperating…PLUS there's that Mongoose First Kiss Contest…deep sigh…hope you ALL like THIS part!

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Blair's eyes closed as soon as he'd finished drinking in Jim's loving blue gaze while his Blessed Protector spoke, and within moments, the young Detective was asleep. The older man hung his head as he placed Sandburg's hand gently down on top of the hospital-issued blankets, and placed both of his own hands over his face, elbows propped on his knees as he hunched down in the hospital chair. 'How could I lose him again,' Jim asked himself as he fought the tears that slipped through his lids anyway, 'He was right fucking there,' Jim berated himself, 'And I lost him. Some Blessed Protector I am,' he thought miserably as he lowered his hands and watched his lover breathe, the bandaged chest rising and falling in a relaxed rhythm.

Ellison's cellphone trilled loudly in the quiet room, and he jumped out of his chair and ran into the hallway as he quickly answered with a curt, "Yeah," trying to allow Blair his much-needed rest. He'd forgotten to turn the damn thing back off once he'd arrived at Cascade General.

"Jim, how's the kid?" Simon Banks asked, only having left the ER himself as soon as he'd discovered Blair was out of immediate danger.

"As well as can be expected, sir," Jim ground out, rubbing his eyes in his exhausted state, "He's sleeping now. What can I do for you, Simon?" Ellison semi-snapped, wanting nothing more than to sit at his partner's side uninterrupted for the rest of the night. The Detective checked his watch and found that time truly was NOT on his side this night; it was nearly 3:30 AM, and he suddenly realized that Banks was almost as worried about his partner as HE was. Voice softening a bit, Jim muttered, "Sorry about that, sir. It's just…it's been a long night."

"I understand, Jim. I just wanted to let you know that the Medical Examiner got a positive ID on Blair's assailant. Name's August Ventriss. Apparently, he's -" Simon got no further as Jim shut his eyes and interrupted.

"Brad Ventriss's brother, right? Fucking figures," Jim whispered vehemently, "Son of a bitch just can't leave well-enough alone, can he?"

"I just thought you'd want to know, Detective," Simon said.

"How the hell did you get the results back so quickly, sir?" Ellison asked.

"You know me, Jim. I have friends in high places that owe me a few favors - and, well…" Banks trailed off, and Jim almost smiled as he realized that Simon had most likely won a bet on the Jags recently.

"I'll be sure and thank your bookie, sir," Jim said with as much of a smile as he could muster, "Thanks for the update. What about the Cascade Strangler? Any news?"

"Sorry, Jim. One favor per night. He's in a holding cell at the moment, and I'll let you know when the questioning has been completed. Just stay with the kid and make sure he's alright, will you?"

"10-4, Sir," Jim replied, "Goodnight, Simon. And thank you."

"Try to get some sleep, Ellison. And just so you know, I don't expect to see you until Monday. Take care of your partner. Got it, Detective?" Banks asked with a slight snort.

"Yes, sir. Thank you sir. I appreciate it, Simon," Jim replied whole-heartedly before disconnecting the call and turning his cellphone off.

Turning so he could gaze back through the small window into Blair's room, Jim watched as Sandburg shivered in his bed, his limbs vibrating just enough that the Sentinel could pick up the discourse in his lover's system. Jim pushed the door open and walked back in, taking long strides to stand at his Guide's bedside seconds later. He pulled the chair out of the way and sat on the side of the bed, stroking Blair's curls gently as he murmured words of comfort.

"Ssssh, sweetheart, it's okay," Ellison heard escape from his own lips, "I'm here, and you're safe now." Jim noticed that as he spoke and stroked his Guide's hair, the injured man's pulse calmed considerably. Thinking for a minute, the proverbial light bulb went on over Jim's head and he climbed fully onto the small bed, on top of the covers, careful not to disturb his slumbering partner.

He easily rolled Blair onto his right side, then spooned himself around his lover gently, so as not to exacerbate Sandburg's injuries. Left arm wrapped protectively around his Guide's waist, the Sentinel whispered words of comfort into Blair's curl-laden left ear, smiling to himself as Sandburg briefly shivered a bit, then pressed back, closer to his bedmate.

Jim found himself grinning a little, despite the tears that slid down his cheeks and dripped into Sandburg's hair; yes, he'd been unable to keep Blair from harm once again. Yes, they were here cuddling in the hospital instead of their big comfy bed at home, once again. But Blair was alive and warm in his Sentinel's embrace - and Jim would make sure he stayed that way.

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"Yes Doctor, I've got it all right here," Jim nodded enthusiastically as he grabbed Blair's after-care instruction sheet - and prescriptions - for the wounds on the young man's chest. "I was a medic in the Special Forces, and I am completely prepared to take care of him," Ellison continued as politely as he could despite his eagerness to get his partner home ASAP.

"Very well then, Detective," Doctor Murphy acquiesced, "See to it that Mr. Sandburg gets his meds…AND small meals several times a day…AND -" Jim cut Murphy off in mid-reminder.

"-Yes, Doctor. Got it. Got ALL of it," Jim interrupted, saluting the physician somewhat mockingly, "He's in good hands doc," Ellison finished as he wheeled his still-silent partner out of the room and towards the elevators. Jim had noticed that Blair's flair for conversation had taken a rather unexpected turn for the non-existent the previous day, but it was getting a bit unnerving after 24 more hours of very little exchange of words with his formerly flagrant partner.

"Hey Chief," Jim said quietly to his Guide, "Ready to head home?"

"Yeah man," Blair said blandly, blatantly devoid of his usual spark of enthusiasm, making Ellison worry that much more about his lover's mental state.

"Good," the older Detective beamed as he proudly wheeled his charge towards the elevators. Ellison was certain that all his lover needed was to get home and be coddled a bit before everything was once again as it should be, and he held onto that belief staunchly as he drove the both of them home. He ignored his partner's continued silence, chalking it up to stress, sure that once they were both back in their favorite environment, things would resume as they had for so long previously - comfortable, and without any cause for alarm.

Jim tried as hard as he could to hold onto his fantasy as he drove home, reluctantly as silent as his partner. Ellison realized that the true problem rested not so much in Blair's actual abduction, but in the wound currently gracing his lover's chest - a hurtful reminder of events from the previous year. He prayed inwardly to a God that he wasn't sure even existed to help them both deal with what was surely to come.

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"Can I get you anything, Chief?" Jim asked, wincing a bit when Sandburg rolled his eyes for the millionth time since getting home from the hospital and replied, "No Jim. JESUS, I'm fine, okay? Just let me rest, man," the young man said exasperatedly, dropping the so far unused TV remote into his lap.

"Sorry Darwin," Jim replied, "I just wanted to make sure-" Blair cut him off rudely, snarling at him and making him feel two feet tall at the same time.

"Goddammit Jim, you're driving me fucking NUTS already," Blair spat, and Jim nodded grimly before murmuring an apology and heading up the stairs to their room. "If you need anything…" Ellison trailed off, frowning as he watched his Guide shake his head and flip the television on angrily.

He'd been 'mother hen-ing' his Partner/Lover/Guide all afternoon, making sure that Blair ate, making sure that Blair took his meds, making sure that Blair was resting. The only thing that he HADN'T done was make sure that Blair was okay with everything that had happened in the last 72 hours. Jim Ellison was NOT a mind reader, and he had no idea what kind of toll the events of the last case had taken on his Guide; but he WAS certain of one thing at the current point in time. Blair was NOT happy. Okay, so two things; Blair was NOT happy, and Blair was NOT dealing well with the outcome of the last 72 hours' events.

Throwing himself down on his bed - no, THEIR bed - Jim sighed deeply and resigned himself to leaving Blair alone until the younger man was able to deal with what had happened. It wasn't like it had ONLY happened to HIM, Jim thought…everything that happened now happened to BOTH of them…but for some reason, Blair was refusing his Sentinel access to his feelings, and Jim was agonizing over the new development. He'd always had privilege to Sandburg's most important meanderings, and now he felt like an outsider. He was being made to feel like an interloper when his lover clearly needed him the most NOW, of all times. Frustrated beyond comfort, Ellison tossed and turned alone for two hours before he finally managed to fall into a restless sleep, thoughts of his suffering Guide fueling his inability to relax.

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Jim awoke several hours later to the cries of his lover coming from the living room below, "NO! NO…SENTINELS DO NOT EXIST! THEY DON'T! I'M A FRAUD!" Ellison sprang from the bed and sprinted down the stairs as fast as he could, his only objective to reach his partner and ease the nightmares.

"Ssssh, it's okay baby, I'm here. You're okay," Jim cooed, dropping to his knees beside the couch where Blair had fallen asleep earlier, "Blair," Jim said gently, hands on either side of his lover's face, willing his Guide back to him from the fog of sleep, "Blair, can you hear me?" Ellison asked concernedly.

"NOOOO…" Blair cried out, and as soon as the Sentinel had tried to gingerly lay his hands upon his Guide's chest, the younger man struck out, catching Jim directly in the middle of his left cheekbone with a flailing fist. "Shit," Ellison murmured, misery setting in as he dialed down the punch and watched Blair's wild lapis gaze catch his own for a split second and then flit away, "Chief…you alright?" Jim asked concernedly.

"So tired, man," Blair groaned, "Just need to rest. Love you," Blair murmured as he drifted off, unaware that he had hit his lover. Resting his head on the edge of the couch closest to his partner, the Sentinel clutched his Guide's left hand close to his heart and sat watch until he finally managed to drift off himself.

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Jim awoke before Blair did, getting slowly up, wincing as his bones creaked from sitting on the floor all night. He released his Guide's hand, which he still clutched in his own, and stretched with a quiet groan before heading into the kitchen to rummage around for breakfast fixings.

Ellison had nearly finished preparing eggs, ham, and toast when his partner finally woke up, sniffing the air loudly and humming, "Mmmm," before he gingerly sat up and leaned back against the sofa cushions.

"Hungry?" Jim asked with a smile as he watched his lover stretch a bit - his smile fading as Blair caught himself in mid-stretch and brought his hands quickly down to the tightly bandaged wounds beneath his shirt.

"You alright, babe?" Ellison asked as he turned the heat down on their breakfast and practically ran to the couch.

"Fine, Jim. I guess I sort of forgot," Blair said with a slight blush, his pale blue eyes gazing up at his Blessed Protector innocently. "What happened to your cheek, man?" Sandburg said, immediately noticing the bruise that had taken up residence on his Sentinel's face.

"You had one hell of a nightmare last night, babe," Ellison replied lightly, "But don't worry. I hit you back while you were sleeping," he finished jokingly, as he reached down and attempted to brush some stray curls out of his lover's eyes, his smile fading when Blair pulled away from his impending touch.

"I did that?" Blair asked, his eyes wide open with shock, "Shit, Jim," the young man exclaimed miserably as he stood to inspect the injury more closely.

"Relax, Chief. I've been beaten by the best, and even if you DO pack a wallop, I'm fine." Jim let Blair fawn over him for a moment before he pulled away from the gentle probing and placed a gentle kiss to the top of his Guide's curly head before going back to the kitchen to finish fixing their breakfast.

"I'm so sorry, Jim," Blair said softly, his voice breaking on his lover's name, "So sorry," he said again as tears began to pool in his eyes. Ellison put down the spatula and turned off the burner, intending to go and take Blair into his arms. Unable to make it to his partner before the younger man ran to the bathroom and locked himself inside, Jim sighed heavily as he strode to the door and jiggled the knob. Shit.

"Blair - sweetheart, it's okay! You were just dreaming," Ellison said as sweetly as he could, "Come on, breakfast is ready. You've got to eat…hell - I'VE got to eat. Come on Junior, whaddya' say we chow down now and we can duke it out later?" Jim's feeble attempt at humor was quickly dismissed.

"It's not FUNNY, Jim," he heard the muffled voice reply from behind the door, "There's not one fucking thing that's funny about this whole situation," Blair whispered. Jim frowned as he realized that his lover was crying, the salty scent tainting the air around his sensitive nose. How in the hell was he supposed to comfort his other half from outside?

"I'm sorry, Chief. Come on, open the door." Jim waited, but the door remained locked. "Blair, I mean it. Come on, babe. Let me hold you, at least," Jim pleaded, and finally heard the lock snick. He practically pounced on the door, bursting in suddenly…and then froze where he stood before he could gather his lover in his already outstretched arms.

Blair stood in front of the mirror that hung above the bathroom sink sans shirt, bloodied bandages from his chest discarded on the floor at his feet. He stared at his image, and tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at himself with such hatred and disappointment that Ellison could almost taste it in the air.

"Oh Blair," Jim whispered as the lump formed in his throat at the sight, "Come on babe, c'mere," Jim said quietly, then dropped his arms to his sides in defeat when the younger man refused to turn around after several more moments.

"Look what he did to me Jim," Blair groaned as he stood in front of his reflection and shook his head at the damage to his flesh - to his very soul, "Just look what that fucking bastard did to me. This will never go away. Just like…just like everything that huh-happened a year ago will nuh-never go away," Blair's voice trailed off as he hung his head and placed his hands on the edge of the sink so he could brace his shivering form against the cool white porcelain. Ellison noticed that the bandages around Sandburg's wrists were seeping with fresh blood, and he winced as he once again tried to coax his lover closer.

"Blair, please," Jim said quietly, "It's going to be okay, Chief," he murmured gently, "We'll get through this, babe," he continued. When he'd finally managed to move close enough to surround his partner with his warm embrace, Blair suddenly pounded his fists against the sink, then struck out full force at the mirror. Glass shards flew in every direction as the former pacifist pulled his right hand back and howled in agony with the pain of his new wounds and frustration at his only slightly older ones.

"GODDAMMIT," Jim cried, catching Blair before he could fall to the floor and land on his knees in the newly shattered mess there, "SANDBURG!" The Sentinel caught his Guide in his arms and lifted the young man bodily, cradling the hysterical young man against his chest as he carried him to the couch. Placing Blair's shaking body on the cushions, Jim rushed to the kitchen and grabbed a towel, then sprinted back to his partner's side and wrapped the bloody extremity in fiesta-colored cotton. He murmured words of comfort to his Guide even though he felt himself swimming in a sea of shock and hurt of his own.

It pained the Sentinel to leave his whimpering Guide on the couch, but he had to find something to pull the glass out of Blair's hand with. Moments later, Ellison found an old pair of Carolyn's tweezers in the medicine cabinet, and he raced back to Blair's side and knelt on the floor next to the couch. "Hold still," Jim murmured as he plucked piece after microscopic piece of reflective glass from his Guide's hand, "Almost done," he told Blair some twenty minutes later, finally satisfied enough with his Sentinel Vision that he'd gotten all of the offending material out of his lover's flesh. Jim set the tweezers down on the coffee table and took in his lover's appearance; it had been half an hour since Blair had attacked the bathroom. Breakfast was nothing more than a distant memory as Jim watched his Guide for further signs of agitation; once certain that Blair's anger was spent, Jim heaved a great sigh and got to his feet - but not before he placed an exhausted kiss to Sandburg's forehead.

"You should probably go back to the hospital Blair, but I don't want to have to leave you there. Whatever's wrong, I think we can work through it here," Ellison said matter-of-factly.

"What do YOU think is wrong, Jim?" Blair asked flatly as he lay on the sofa, "You think I'm an F. R. A. U. D? Just like my new insignia says, right, man?" Sandburg challenged, "RIGHT?" Sandburg shouted again, silenced only when Jim merely shook his head and strode to the bathroom to get clean bandages to re-wrap his lover's chest and newly-maimed hand, in addition to his exacerbated wrist injuries.

"If that's all you think of me, Blair, then I have to wonder how well you REALLY know me. All those notes and tests; you HAVE to KNOW that I love you, Chief," Ellison said vehemently as he wrapped the bloody knuckles and wrists, and motioned for Sandburg to sit up so he could bandage the young man's chest. "I love you so much that this…this…BULLSHIT," Jim spat, "means NOTHING! Sandburg, I LOVE you," Jim cried, barely able to contain his own tears as he watched his lover's spill down already dampened cheeks. The Sentinel finished wrapping the wounds and gathered Blair up in a teary heap once he'd managed to plop down on the couch next to him, pulling the younger man into his lap and wrapping his muscular arms gently around his Guide.

"We'll get THROUGH this," Jim told Blair, "I swear, Chief. I LOVE you," Ellison continued through clenched teeth, "More than ANYTHING…more than my own life ITSELF," he finished vehemently, and crumbled inwardly when he heard Blair sob aloud against his chest in agreement at the same time his lover's arms closed protectively around his neck.

Jim held Blair to his chest while they both cried softly against one another's shoulders. All the Sentinel wanted was to know that his Guide felt loved and safe...moments later, the younger man was asleep once again, his body totally relaxed in the older Detective's lap, resting heavily against his Blessed Protector's chest. Jim lowered his chin so that it rested on the top of Blair's head, and he allowed himself a grim smile as he realized that this just might be the ONLY place he could keep his Guide safe. Ellison sighed deeply and closed his eyes, then followed Blair's lead into slumber as the faint smile faded all too soon from his lips.

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The loft phone's loud trill woke Jim and Blair from their much needed nap, and the machine caught the call before Jim could gently disengage Blair from his lap and jump up to get the phone in the kitchen. Ellison had only managed to move Blair the slightest bit out of his lap when their message played out clearly, and then Simon Banks began to speak.

"Jim, Simon. I know I told you that I didn’t want to see you until Monday, but there's been a new development in the Ventriss case, and I think it would be a good idea if you came in for a few hours to give your statement. I realize the kid's not up to giving his statement yet, so that can wait until next week…but the Ventriss' lawyer is breathing down my neck already, and it appears that there was an accomplice to Blair's abduction. Shit, I didn't want to leave all this on the machine…" Simon's pause was long enough for Jim to leap from the couch and grab the phone, ignoring Blair's confused look for the time being.

"Sir," Jim practically shouted into the receiver as he turned his back to his lover and caught the call, speaking with Banks for another five minutes before hanging up - only to be met with Sandburg's exhausted and still confused azure gaze once he'd turned back around.

"Jim?" Sandburg asked, the quizzical and hurt expression on his still bruised face impossible to ignore, "What the hell was Simon talking about? Ventriss? What…I thought…I thought Brad was still in prison," Blair whispered, "What the hell, Jim? It wasn't Brad that took me, man. It was…this guy that looked like…he looked sorta' like you," he finished softly.

The Sentinel brought his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes, not wanting to have to explain the situation until his Guide had more strength built up to endure the whole truth behind his abduction. "Blair," Jim began, only to be cut off by his partner when the younger man got shakily up from the couch, his bandaged wrists and right hand crossing as he wrapped his arms around his heavily bandaged torso, shivering where he stood.

"What is it, man? What didn’t you tell me, Jim?" Blair asked, his voice getting a little louder and vibrating that much more, "What the hell?" Jim swallowed harshly as he prepared to answer his lover's question; he really did NOT want to have this discussion now.

"Blair…it was…the man who abducted you was…he wasn't the Cascade Strangler," Jim spat out, closing his eyes so that he didn't have to watch Sandburg shake apart in front of him. The older Detective was obfuscating badly, and he knew that Blair - despite his injuries - would see right through him. Ellison was proved correct moments later when he opened his eyes to find that his shivering partner, arms still wrapped around his middle, had stalked over to stand in front of his lover and gazed up to Jim with tears in his tired eyes.

"Ventriss, Jim? Who the fuck was it? Who the FUCK did this to me?" Blair cried, shaking his head even as Ellison answered him. Jim found that he could put no emotion into his response; all he wanted to do was hold Blair close and tell him that everything would be okay - instead, he clenched his jaw and ground out the answer to his suffering mate.

"August Ventriss, Blair. Brad's long lost brother did this to you. At his brother's request, of course," Jim finished, his teeth grinding together so hard that he wondered if Sandburg could hear the sound. "I didn't want to tell you until you were stronger…more able to handle…" That was the last word Jim got out.

"Handle WHAT, man?" Blair laughed/cried hysterically at Jim's words, making the older man wince and hang his head to avoid the younger man's insistent and wounded gaze, "Handle the fact that what happened last year will ALWAYS come back to bite me in the ass? GODDAMMIT," Blair shouted, and Jim fled to his Guide's side; but not before the younger man collapsed to the floor as he struggled to clutch onto the couch for support and missed. He lay sprawled on the area rug, shaking uncontrollably with minor shock and sobbing freely by the time Jim reached him.

Ellison dropped to his knees on the floor and gathered his partner into his arms, feeling every shiver and tremor tenfold as he held Blair. "I'm sorry, Chief," he replied while he clutched Sandburg to him forcefully, wishing he could pass some of his strength into the drained figure in his arms. "Brad Ventriss tracked down his long lost brother and paid him part of his inheritance to come after you," Jim said softly as he pressed his lips into his lover's wild curls. "And then August paid off the bartender at Club Diablo to drug your drink so that he could -," Jim paused and swallowed harshly before continuing, "So that he could pick up where his weasel of a brother supposedly failed. Apparently, Brad didn’t feel that nearly bashing your head in with a baseball bat was good enough," Jim said with a long sigh, finished talking as he unwillingly remembered the FIRST tangle with the Ventriss family.

"What about the Cascade Strangler, Jim?" Blair asked quietly as he continued to shudder uncontrollably against his Sentinel's chest, Ellison merely using it as an excuse to hold the younger man that much closer.

"Rafe and Brown caught him that same night by accident," Jim said as he leaned down and kissed the top of Blair's head. "The tip we got was meant to…to lure you into the fucking club so that Ventriss could get his…sick fucking hands on you," Jim finished. Nearly ill with the rage that flowed through him as he continued to try and comfort his lover, Jim resorted once again to the deep breathing exercises that his Guide had taught him - all the while clutching his panicked partner ever closer to him.

"Jim," Blair mumured exhaustedly against his Sentinel's chest, "I'm so fucking tired, man." Ellison shuddered slightly as he held the young man close, shaking his head into the auburn curls beneath his nose as he tried to control the force with which he held his Guide. He wanted nothing more than to pull Blair into his own body so that the younger man could just hide out until he was able to deal with everything - but it wasn't that easy; not even for Sentinels and Shamans. Jim let a deep sigh escape as he held Blair's trembling body against his own, and prayed to whatever Gods might be listening to just let Blair rest. Within twenty minutes, Sandburg was once again snoozing in Jim's arms, and the older man leaned back against the couch as he held his lover and cooed to him softly as he slept.

Jim had managed to pry himself away from Blair's grasp hours later, only letting the younger man go when he'd finally fallen into a deep sleep and unconsciously allowed his Sentinel to place him on the couch. Ellison tucked the young man in with blankets and pillows - even as he cursed the Cascade Police Department and all things Ventriss for forcing him to leave his Guide in his current fragile state.

Jim scribbled a note and left it on the coffee table next to the couch before he left; it took all of his will power to drag himself away from his charge, and the Sentinel made sure that his Guide's heartbeat remained audible all the way downtown. Ellison cursed the entire way to the station at each vehicle that slowed his progress, certain that every moment he spent away from his lover did nothing more than impede the young man's recovery.

Twenty minutes after having left Blair in the loft, Ellison strode into the bullpen purposefully, wanting nothing more than to get his statement over with so he could return home. As expected, Simon came out of his office when Jim walked in, noting his Detective's sour mood after having to leave his partner.

"Thanks for coming, Jim. I'm sorry about this; I know Sandburg needs you, but we have to get your statement. All we need you to do is tell all about the FIRST encounter with Brad Ventriss - when Blair was initially assaulted - and then tie it to what happened a few days ago. That should give the DA all the ammo she needs to pursue a case," Simon finished.

"Whatever, Sir," Jim sighed resignedly as he stripped off his coat, tossed it down onto his desk, and headed for his Captain's office, "Can we please just get this over with? Sandburg's not doing so hot, and I really need to get back ASAP."

Blair awoke drenched in sweat and shivering; he'd had another nightmare, and instead of finding his Sentinel wrapped around him bodily or crouched at his side - as had been the case the past couple of days - Sandburg bolted upright and found himself alone. Nothing more than a hastily written note on the coffee table signaled his partner's hours-previous exit, and he heard his own weak voice echo emptily in the now-darkened loft.

"Sh…sh…shit," Blair announced shakily to the empty loft, "Jim," he moaned softly as he wrapped his bandaged arms around his equally bandaged middle and rocked himself to and fro, "Where ah-are you, man?" Sandburg could do nothing more than burrow himself deeper into the sofa as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the shadows that danced on the brick walls that had seemed so innocent in the daylight. Now, those same patterns did nothing less than attempt to drag Blair into the depths of their seemingly unending darkness. The young man dragged himself exhaustedly up the stairs to his Blessed Protector's room; the room that had become shared a year previously. Crouching in the corner next to the large unmade bed, Blair's overwrought imagination assaulted his already weakened state of mind.

Visions of Brad and August Ventriss flooded his head; he saw himself crying in front of numerous television cameras as he declared himself a fraud, all in the name of saving his Sentinel. He watched as Brad's goons beat him down to the pavement - until Jim came to his rescue. He watched, with his own eyes wide open and frightened, at the shadows that closed in around him. August Ventriss tied him up and electrocuted him within an inch of his life, all the while murmuring about what a fraud Blair Sandburg really was…what a JOKE the Anthropologist had become to all his colleagues AND all the people that had witnessed his press conference the year before.

The young Detective saw it all in his mind's eye, and he screamed out loud, his cries echoing off the empty walls of the loft. A massive panic attack set in then; a doozy that would have rivalled Jim's worst Zone. Sandburg collapsed helplessly against the wall as he gasped for air that refused to come to his lungs, no matter how hard he tried to breathe it forcefully in. "Juh…Juh…JIM," Sandburg cried as he fought the suffocating lack of oxygen, "Juh…jim," Blair cried more weakly as he waited for his Sentinel to rush into the loft and save the day - to no avail.

Knees tucked under his chin, chestnut curls shivering alongside his face as he trembled helplessly in the throes of his worst nightmare, Blair Sandburg proceeded to do something unknown in the history of Sentinels and Shamans according to Burton or any OTHER expert on the subject. Left alone to do nothing but get lost in the shadows of his own failures, Blair Sandburg Zoned. His crystal blue eyes glazed over as his consciousness left the reality of the only world he'd ever known, and entered that of his beloved - and still absent - Sentinel.

Ellison yawned and grabbed his coat from his desk, having finished his formal statement to the D.A., and the Commissioner, and anyone ELSE that had some claim to the Ventriss case. It was at that moment that he allowed himself to once again pick up solely on his Guide's heartbeat, panicking when the all-too-slow 'lub-dub' was the only thing to greet his overly sensitive hearing.

"Sandburg," Jim murmured, catching his Captain's attention immediately, "BLAIR!" Jim shouted, dropping his coat and heading out the nearest exit for the stairs, all other thoughts immediately erased from his consciousness as he raced blindly towards his Guide's waning heartbeat.

Banks barely managed to radio down to the first floor that Detective Ellison was on his way and in serious need of a vehicle. "SANDBURG," Jim cried as he reached the parking garage some five minutes later after having taken all 15 flights of stairs down, "CHIEF! I'M COMING! HANG ON," Ellison screamed in vain as he hopped into a black and white that had just cruised into the garage. "Darwin," Jim moaned as he revved up the engine, simultaneously starting the siren and the lights as he squealed out of the garage with his senses on a one-track path that led directly to his beloved Guide.

Jim pealed into the parking lot at the loft and slammed on the brakes, nearly giving himself whiplash as he shoved the patrol car's gears into 'Park' and hopped out of the vehicle. He ignored the headlights and still-flashing red and blue lights on the dashboard; he had managed to turn off the sirens before he sprinted up the stairs towards his Guide's maddeningly slowly receding vital signs.

"BLAIR!" Ellison screamed as he sprinted up the three flights of stairs towards the loft's front door, "BLAIR!" The Sentinel wasted no time looking for his most likely missing keys - instead giving one swift and emotionally charged kick to the door, splintering it in its jambs. "BLAIR," Jim cried, searching frantically around the living room for the young man, panicking more and more with each second that ticked by as he found no prize.

"CHIEF," Ellison cried as he threw open the French doors that led to his partner's old room, not necessarily surprised to find nothing there, either. Panting, the older man nearly Zoned as he followed the weak pulse that throbbed in his temples; followed it up the stairs without even seeing where he was going. Once in his own room - no, Jim thought fleetingly, THEIR room - he wheeled around to find his Guide crouched in the corner to the right of their bed - unmoving. Jim looked in abject horror at his lover/partner/Guide, as a bit of drool wept from the left corner of the full lips that mere days before had been so passionate against his own overly sensitized flesh.

Blair's head was cocked to the left side and appeared to be resting on his own left shoulder at a frighteningly uncomfortable angle, his unseeing blue eyes glazed over and staring uselessly ahead at nothing. The young man's large, square hands were resting unceremoniously in his lap, fingers of both hands clenched into claws that didn't quite meet in what might be construed as some twisted homage to mock-prayer. The free-flowing auburn curls hung limply around the Guide's shoulders in the darkness of the loft - Jim's Sentinel sight the only factor allowing him to see any of the grim picture before him at all.

Ellison fell to his knees before his Guide in the darkened room, begging first silently, then quite vocally, for Blair to come back to him. "Chief," Jim whispered, "Come on, Chief, come back to me," the older Detective pleaded, tears rolling down his cheeks even as he placed both of his big clumsy hands on either side of his Guide's face and willed the younger man to heed his call. "Blair," Ellison begged, "I love you, Darwin. I…I only had to go away for a little while, and I'm back now. Can you hear me, Chief?" Jim cried, struggling not to sob openly, his breath hitching and barely catching as he pleaded yet again to his still-Zoned Guide to come back to him.

"Goddammit Chief, come ON," Ellison cried vehemently, "I always come back to you, Blair. It's your turn now, baby, come ON," Jim implored, not even noticing the slight increase in his lover's pulse at his continued pleas, "Blair," the older man's voice trailed off as he lay his head against his partner's chest and clutched the younger man bodily to him. Jim wrapped his large bulk around the smaller man's easily, still oblivious to the increase in breaths and pulse that reacted almost automatically to the Sentinel's begging.

"I'm so sorry, Blair," Ellison cried against his lover's chest, "I'll never leave you again, not even for five minutes…just come BACK, Darwin," Jim implored. The older man stopped in mid-plea as he felt the gaze from above; he looked slowly up and caught his Guide's azure eyes beaming down on him, crying not-oft given up Sentinel tears of relief and joy as he found his suddenly hoarse voice and managed, "Blair…"

"Jim," Sandburg croaked hoarsely, tears streaming down his own cheeks as he woke fully from his stupor and clutched his lover ever closer to him, "Have I told you lately…" the young man trailed off in a whisper. Ellison merely shook his head, then muttered brokenly, "No, Chief. Tell me again," he said as he buried his nose in his Guide's errant curls and closed his eyes. Drinking in the scent of the young man, the Sentinel brought his Guide bodily into his lap and wrapped his arms around the younger man as Blair returned the gesture to his Blessed Protector/lover/partner/other half.

"Love you," Blair grumbled against his Sentinel’s chest.

"I love you too, babe. We WILL get through this. It’s all gonna’ be okay, Chief."

Crap, now I’m going to have to do ANOTHER part, I suppose…