Wishing
Well
Author:
Jvantheterrible
Date:
December 5th, 2001 - May 15th, 2002
Rating:
NC-17 for M/M relations, violence, angst, h/c, & explicit serial-killer
detail.
Pairing:
J/B
Disclaimer: Not mine. Petfly & Bilson/DeMeo gave them up a few years ago, and
we're left to pick up the pieces. I sure do miss them. No monies made, blah
blah blah.
Author's Notes: Been thinking about this idea for awhile. Takes place around the
holidays, due to CURRENT time. I suppose that, if pressed for explanation, this
story was inspired by 'Silence Of The Lambs'. If that kind of material squicks you, PLEASE don't read this!
ALSO…timeline wise, this is post-TSbBS and Blair is a cop…but this is his first
HARSH case.
Feedback:
Relished at jvadesignage@aol.com. No flames, thanks. Not beta'd; I like
to live on the edge…of MANY things <snicker>.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Friday,
December 20th
852
Prospect
5:53 AM
Blair Sandburg could see it all so clearly; could
practically feel the cold closing in
on him, could sense the impending doom that was about to befall him. He had no
idea where he was exactly, just that he could see nothing around him and felt
nothing but…frigid darkness. Nothing more than a dim circle of light overhead,
and even that spewed dampness from
the sky upon him, drip by drip. He shivered once, and then began unconsciously
shaking in earnest as he took in his surroundings…it was all too real…but it
couldn't be! He'd just made love to Jim hours ago in their shared bed, and his
lover was still curled up next to him, was he not? Reaching out, the Guide
found nothing but cold earth beneath his outstretched palms, and suddenly felt
the water lapping at his bare legs; how the hell did he get here? Where was here, anyway? Submerged to his
knees in filthy, reeking, freezing cold water that was slowly but steadily
rising, he began to panic; couldn't even call out to Jim for help…breath coming
too fast to calm down now…must…relax…must…Jim…must
The Sentinel awoke before
the 6 AM alarm even had a chance to go off; he rubbed his eyes to get the grit
out, momentarily confused by the locomotive-like sound coming from underneath
the covers. It was that rasping, desperate sound that had pulled him from his
deep slumber moments earlier, and once he saw the covers heaving next to him,
he realized that his lover was having a nightmare. Again. 'He has got to stop
drinking those damned algae shakes,' Jim thought to himself as he attempted to
gently jostle his Guide awake for the third time in six days. This time,
though, Jim was worried; it sounded to his sensitive ears like Blair's heart
was pounding frantically in his fur-covered chest. The Sentinel could smell the
fear pouring off the younger man from beneath the covers, and Jim sat up and
threw the flesh-warmed blue and white checkered flannel sheets back to expose
Sandburg - sweating profusely, shaking like a leaf, and curled into a fetal
position.
"Jesus Christ,"
Ellison murmured concernedly, "Chief? C'mon babe, just a dream." The
Sentinel immediately pulled the younger man up and into the waiting safety and
warmth of his own strong lap and arms, "Blair? Sweetheart, come on, it's
just a dream," Jim cooed softly, immediately worried when Sandburg failed
to respond to his comforting embrace and whispers.
"Cuh-cuh-cold,"
Sandburg muttered between chattering teeth, "Juh-juh…please…Jim, help
me," the young man belted out in a strangled whisper. The night terrors
had been escalating all week, and despite his best attempts at shrugging it all
off, Jim was genuinely frightened at the moment. Blair had been quite insistent
about writing it all off as nonsense, but this was hardly something so easily discarded.
"Blair," Jim
said with a bit more conviction, holding his Guide as closely and tightly as he
could without smothering the younger man. "C'mon, this isn't funny,"
Jim said nervously as he gazed down at the man in his arms. Despite the warm
embrace that Jim currently held Sandburg in, he watched as his lover's lips took
on a bluish hue…it was only when Blair finally sputtered himself awake that
Ellison heaved a huge sigh of relief and was able to stop shaking the young
man's shoulders. Jim rested his chin atop the mass of sweat-soaked curls
beneath it and stroked Blair's bare back gently, calming the Guide's panicked
pulse and frantic shivering, trying to eradicate the goosebumps that were so
prominent at the moment.
"Jim," Blair
whispered against his partner's chest, "It happened again…but this time it
was…it…it was so fucking real," he rasped, still trying to catch his
breath as he soaked in the larger man's body heat to calm his shivers. The
Guide wrapped his arms around his Sentinel's waist in an awkward but more than
welcome grasp, nestling his long curls and one side of his face between
Ellison's smooth pecs, trying to burrow his way into his lover.
"Sssshhh,"
Ellison whispered to his troubled lover, "It's okay, I'm here, nothing's
wrong Blair, I've got you." It took several more minutes of soft kisses
and reassuring pats on the back before Blair finally stopped shaking, and even
then he was still cold and clammy to the touch. Jim pulled the sheets and
comforter up and around them both, still clutching Blair closely to him.
Several minutes later, when the young man was finally starting to warm up
again, Jim spoke.
"Blair, I think it
would be a good idea if…well, if we took you off this case. I don't think
you're up to dealing with it…it's pretty goddamned grisly, and I…well, shit
Chief, I think it's getting to you." Jim grimaced as soon as he felt
Sandburg shaking his stubborn head back and forth against his chest; the kid
had absolutely insisted on being included in all of Jim's cases, no matter
what activities the perps might be involved in.
Up until now, it was
mostly drug-related, or gang-related, or robbery-related, or anything-related. Anything…except
a serial killer. When the alarm clock began its insistent buzzing, Jim found
himself once again comforting Blair out of a whole new batch of shakes…and
realized that, not for the first time since getting his badge, Sandburg just
might not be cut out for this line of work. At least not on certain cases…cases
like this one.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
CASCADE
P. D.
9:34 AM
"Ellison, Sandburg,
my office," Captain Banks groused. Blair rolled his eyes a bit, not
catching the concern on his partner/lover's face as he got up from his
paperwork to follow the Sentinel into their boss's office. Taking their
respective seats, the partners watched as Simon clenched his jaw around a fresh
(and as yet unlit) stogie, pacing behind his desk nervously. "We've got
another body," Simon said around the tobacco between his lips, obviously
agitated over whatever communication he'd received. "This is the worst one
yet," the large man continued, "I can't really explain all the
details…your presence has been requested at the scene." Simon stopped
pacing for a moment to gaze at the two men before him, scrutinizing Blair more
than usual.
"What?" Sandburg
piped up innocently, wide-open blue eyes catching Simon's gaze before he looked
to his partner; dismayed at the doubt he found in the azure eyes to his left and the chocolate-brown one coming from
his boss, the young man sighed theatrically and said, "Don't even go there, you guys."
"Sandburg, I really
don't think…I mean, this is some nasty shit we're dealing with here, alright?
This isn't the Chow family being robbed in their liquor store. This isn't a
kidnapping, or even the usual crap that befalls the two of you," Simon
continued, pointing his unlit cigar at the two men, "This is some
seriously fucked up behavior." Banks paused momentarily to take in
Sandburg's crestfallen features, then looked to Jim for backup. Thankfully, the
Sentinel didn't disappoint his superior.
"Blair-" was all
Jim managed to get out before Sandburg was out of his chair and pacing behind
their seats frantically, arms waving enthusiastically in the air as he motioned
while he spoke.
"Don't do this to me,
man," Blair said, "I've been trained for this shit, okay? I'm ready.
I'm a fucking anthropologist, for God's sake. I'm used to human behavior, and
studying it and dissecting it and analyzing it. Stop treating me like I'm some
child that needs to be handled with kid gloves, okay? Both of you," Blair
said with a glare, before giving in to his Captain's glowering gaze with a
murmured, "Sir," in the dark man's direction.
"Goddammit Sandburg,
this isn't Rainier, alright?" Simon barked at him, making the young
Detective jump a bit, "This is not some course studying bones and tribes
and fucking pygmies that live in trees! This maniac is using skin to make
fucking lampshades and futon covers, alright? Are you prepared to deal with
that, Sandburg? Are you?" Simon yelled.
Jim winced and hung his
head, the memory of Blair shivering in his arms that very morning all too fresh
in his head. He could feel his lover's gaze burning into the back of his neck,
silently begging for backup against the verbal onslaught of their Captain, and
Jim felt even more ashamed when he found himself unable to provide that
comfort. Blair was simply not handling this case well…and the perp was
escalating in his violence. Whether it was his Blessed Protector mode kicking
in or simply concern over his lover's mental and emotional well-being, James
Ellison refused to let his partner succumb to the horrors of the job. Blair
Sandburg had already given up more than could ever be imagined to live the life
they now shared; Jim would be damned if he'd allow the young man to come into
any more harm than necessary…physical or otherwise.
Taking a deep breath, Jim
shared a brief nod and agreeing look with Simon Banks before standing up and
looking at his partner. His best friend. His lover. His other half. Unbeknownst
to Blair, Jim had consulted with Simon after the first nightmare earlier in the
week, and had already agreed to work the case with Taggert. It was time to
speak up, and Jim could feel his pulse pick up in speed to match that of his
nervous partner, barely finding the resolve to spit out, "I'm working this
one with Taggert, Blair. You're on desk duty until further notice."
Ellison closed his eyes as he heard the catch in Sandburg's throat; it was a
noise that only a Sentinel could hear, and it was the most sorrowful sound he
could ever recall being privvy to. It exuded hurt; genuine and heartfelt, and
worse than that - Jim could practically feel the disappointment. He had sworn
that he would never betray his Guide…never again…not after all that Sandburg
had given up to be with him. But this was different…wasn't it?
"I see," Blair
said calmly as he stopped his pacing and regarded his Captain and his
partner/best friend/lover, "Will that be all then, Captain? I have a lot
of paperwork to catch up on," Sandburg said. Only Jim could sense the
racing heartbeat and smell the veritable anger coming off the younger man.
Blair's gaze burned a hole in Jim's heart; he knew that it was going to take
one hell of a lot for his lover to forgive him. It was only the knowledge of
what most surely awaited him at the crime scene that allowed the Sentinel to
follow his Guide out of their Captain's office and watch as the younger man
reluctantly yet gracefully took a seat behind his own desk. Blair winced a bit
when he heard Joel approach Jim and ask if he was ready to roll; Jim had to
swallow the lump in his throat down harshly as he allowed himself one last
glance at his lover before he left the bullpen with Taggert. It was only the
images of what Ellison knew awaited them at the scene that kept him walking out
without his real partner. The memory
of said partner shivering in his arms and crying and sweating that very morning
was all too real as he headed down the elevator with Joel, prepared to face the
recently-dubbed 'Cascade Monster's' newest creation. The Sentinel only wished
that his final memory that morning hadn't been Blair's refusal to look at him
as he walked out the doors of the bullpen with Taggert.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
UNDISCLOSED
SUBURBAN LOCATION
10:03 AM
"Oh Jesus H. Christ,"
Jim muttered as he and Taggert assessed the crime scene. The animal had most
certainly been on the prowl recently; there was blood all over the furniture
and soaking into the carpet of the small house in not-so-rural Cascade. Worse
yet, flesh had been cut from the still unseen victim and used to cover up lamps
and a chandelier in the Dining Room. The stench immdediately assaulted Jim's
senses and he gasped for air like a fish out of water for several minutes until
he was able to dial it all down so that he could take in the crucial details
like Taggert. Unable to dab mentholatum beneath his sensitive nose, Jim closed
his eyes and imagined his Guide's soothing voice so he could center himself;
Joel was unable to assist in the Guide department, and Jim was not surprised.
"Yeah," Taggert
agreed as he followed the Sentinel around the house, grimacing when they found
what appeared to be a human heart and kidneys still bubbling in a five-gallon
pot on the stove, evidence that the perp had been around mere minutes before
the arrival of the police. "Jesus, Jim, what do you think he's trying to
do? It looks like…oh SHIT," Taggert muttered as he found a plate
containing some unidentifiable meat and a fork next to the stove. "Oh, oh
God," Joel said weakly before covering his mouth and running down the hall
in search of the bathroom - in what passed for an idyllic home from the outside
despite the horror contained within.
Ellison tried to block it
all out; the sounds of Joel wretching into the toilet, the scent of human
organs cooking on the range, the tinge of horrified fear that permeated the air
of the once-peaceful residence. Nothing that Jim did could eradicate the sense
of dread and loathing that surrounded him…and still, he could see Blair's face
before leaving his partner at the station that morning. Despite the fact that
Ellison was thrilled Blair hadn't had to experience the crime scene, something
nagged at him. Granted, it resided way back in the recesses of his primal
brain, but it was there…and before long, Jim feared, that niggling feeling
would turn into something altogether more tangible.
Pushing aside his
foreboding feelings, Jim headed up the hallway and called softly out to his
temporary partner, "Hey, Taggert? You okay, Joel?" The Sentinel could
smell where the remainder of the body rested, and prepared himself for what
would most certainly be the worst vision yet. As Joel apologized from inside
the bathroom, Jim walked up the hallway to where the blood trail left off…just
outside a bedroom door that was barely open a crack. Bloody handprints on the
jambs let Jim know that this was indeed where the rest of their victim lay, and
he took a deep breath as he prepared to enter the room.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
CASCADE
P. D.
12:53 PM
Sandburg answered his
telephone with a curt, "Cascade PD," quickly changing over to that of
concerned City Officer when he heard the sobbing woman on the other end of the
line. "Please," she cried whole-heartedly into the phone,
"There's someone outside my patio trying to get in…the damned
burglar-alert won't work," she relayed with great panic in her voice.
"This…monster that's been around the city, I'm afraid…please!" She
cried, screaming as the sound of glass breaking in the background brought Blair
to his feet within seconds. He checked for his weapon as he pulled on his wool
coat, scarf, and gloves while cradling the phone between his shoulder and his
chin and prepared to head out into the field. Flurries had started again, and
the radio announcer had been talking about a winter storm coming in…just in
time for Christmas.
"It's alright, ma'am,
I'm on my way," Sandburg assured the lady on the other end of the
connection, "Just tell me your address," Blair encouraged her,
horrified when she managed to give out just her street name and house number
before being cut off from the connection. "Ma'am? Hello?" Blair
shouted into the phone; there were no other Detectives in the bullpen, and Simon
was nowhere to be seen…the anthropologist-cum-Detective had no choice but to
respond to the call on his own. With the connection dead and sans backup - the
first no-no in the Cascade PD handbook - Blair thought rebelliously, 'This is
my chance…I'll show Simon and Jim how I can handle a case.'
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
UNDISCLOSED
RURAL LOCATION
2:05 PM
He'd been driving for just
over an hour - his progress slowed by the worsening weather, and Blair was
concerned that he'd misread the damned address…until he happened upon it more
or less by accident. 'Oh God, here it is,' he thought to himself as he headed
up the driveway, not surprised when he saw a truck parked crookedly in the
gravel by the front door. Using his squad car computer, Sandburg typed in the
plate number and was not surprised when the vehicle came up as stolen on the
system. Gathering every bit of resolve he held in his soul, Blair exited his
cruiser and headed up the concrete stairs to the front door, not at all
surprised when he found the heavy wood slightly ajar. 'Dammit,' he thought to
himself, 'this is SO against protocol…but everyone else is out in the field.'
Blair allowed thoughts of
Jim and Joel heading out the doors together to permeate his brain, and the only
feeling that resided in his head and his heart at that point was one of
betrayal. This was his big chance to show the guys that he could handle an
emergency, and he would be damned if he'd let some cut-rate killer cheat him
out of his opportunity.
"Hello? Ma'am?"
Blair attempted nonchalantly as he strode cautiously through the house, gun
drawn and ready for anything thanks to his Cascade PD training. Working so
closely with Jim the last five years, he'd been able to glean…something
incredibly heavy struck Sandburg forcefully in the back of the head, ceasing
his inner monologue, and Blair was anything but prepared. He slumped
immediately to the floor, entirely missing the evil chuckle that followed his
collapse, unconscious before he hit the ground.
"Awww, lookie,"
the high-pitched voice proclaimed as it mimicked a woman's tone, "He
really came! He really cares! I just loooooove the Cascade PD," the dark
stranger spoke as the voice fluctuated from high and feminine to low and masculine.
"Are you ready, Mr. Sentinel? Mr. Cop of the Year? I've got your Guide and
anything goes now," the man said to the unresponsive Sandburg at his feet
- before laughing until the sound faded into a mad howl.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20TH
4:06 PM
CASCADE
PD
Taggert and Ellison ambled
back into the bullpen, both men with their heads hung; it had been an
exhausting day, and a nearly futile one. The Cascade Monster was not only
escalating in the level of violence and horror he wrought at his scenes, he was
leaving fewer clues. The body that Jim had found in the bedroom had been that
of a very obese woman…it had taken the two men and the Forensic team all day to
collect all the pieces of her flesh that had been cut from her corpse and
strewn about the house. They hadn't even been able to discern if the organs
cooking on the stove were hers, and that would take a day or two to come back
from the labs; there were still parts missing from the perp's two previous
victims. Jim didn't doubt for a moment that the asshole was keeping trophies,
and it wouldn't be out of the question to assume that he would transport those
to the new scenes to throw off the investigation.
The flurry of activity in
the bullpen was SOP for a Friday afternoon, and it took Ellison a minute to
realize that several things were out of place. First and most importantly,
Blair was nowhere to be seen - that, in and of itself, was odd because he
should have been at his desk. Extending his senses, Jim found no trace of the
familiar heartbeat, or scent of his lover. Second, there was the fact that
everyone appeared to be blatantly avoiding him; no one asked any questions
about the crime scene, despite the buzz that had been going on all week about
the Monster's crimes. Next, the Sentinel picked up on the whispers from the
other employees. "Who's going to tell him?" Jim heard, then in reply,
"Captain Banks for sure, man, there's no way I'd want to be the one," and then from across the room,
"There he is…he's going to freak out. Poor guy…and this close to the
holidays, too," the anonymous soft voice finished with sorrow.
Upon seeing Jim and Joel
enter the offices, Simon stepped into the doorway of his office with a lit
cigar clenched between his teeth before grinding out, "Ellison, my office,
pronto." Jim shook his head as though to clear all the whispers and
murmurs around him before entering the Captain's office. Simon shut the door
after following the Detective in and, instead of sitting behind his desk as he
usually did, the larger man took the seat next to Jim - where Blair usually sat
- puffing on his cigar as hard as he could and blowing the smoke away from the
Sentinel.
"Jim," Simon
began, and instantly Ellison closed his eyes. His heart froze in his chest. Every
fiber of his being told him what was coming, and there was no way that he could
escape it. The whispers from the other detectives had pretty much told him all
he needed to hear, and Simon's tones and behavior were sealing up the deal.
Blair Sandburg was missing.
"When?" Jim
asked, eyes still closed, interrupting Simon's attempt to break the news
gently.
"Jesus, Ellison…we
were out to lunch…the kid was here alone and the call came in, and -"
Banks tried to hedge, but Jim would have none of it.
"When?" The Sentinel asked more forcefully, and Simon just
shook his head and looked down before answering, "About four hours ago,
best as we can tell, Jim. The call came in at about ten 'til one, and Sandburg
took off immediately after. I sent a team, but there's nothing out there,
Jim…we traced the call from the phone company and the house is -"
Ellison cut his Captain
off once again, "I need the address. Please. Now." Jim fought off the
nausea that rose in his stomach as the scenes from earlier in the day replayed
in his head; he swallowed harshly against the lump in his throat. If only he'd
just let Blair ride along as usual. If only he'd just trusted Blair's judgment.
His partner's judgment, he scolded
himself…Blair was his full-fledged
partner now. If only he'd been able to put the nightmares aside for what
Sandburg always said they were, mere 'subconscious meanderings that have
nowhere else to go in the dead of night'. 'If only', Jim thought as Simon wrote
down the address, 'if only'. Jim stood up and clenched his jaw as he regarded
his Captain matter-of-factly, "I'm going out there, Simon. I might be able
to find something they missed."
The large black man merely
nodded, the apology and sorrow overwhelming in his expression. "Jim, the
weather's getting really bad and I-" and for the third and final time,
Ellison interrupted, "It's okay, Simon. I'll find him."
"I know you will Jim,
I know you will," Banks replied, motioning to the door and watching the
distraught Detective exit his office. As Jim shut the door behind him, Simon
picked up the case files that Blair had placed on his desk earlier and slammed
them angrily back down on his desk. "I'm sorry, kid," Simon said to
no one as he plopped down in his chair, "Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
UNDISCLOSED
RURAL LOCATION
5:34 PM
Ellison glanced at the
clock on the truck's dashboard; it was nearly twelve hours ago that he'd held
his lover in his arms, comforting him from the demons of the night. As he
pulled into the driveway of the home that Blair had responded to, he slid to a
halt on the already slush-filled pavement and, ignoring the cruisers and
officers that still mingled around the scene, jumped from his truck and strode
purposefully towards the front door. It wasn't just the weather that gave him a
chill as he walked past Blair's abandoned cruiser, pulling his coat's collar
further up his neck and already distantly able to smell his Guide from within
the residence.
He flashed his Detective
badge as he approached the front steps, paying no mind to the other workers.
Instantly he sensed Blair; the scent was one that mingled the younger man's
shampoo and soap and usual musky Blairsmell, but the strongest one that the
Sentinel picked up on was - fear. Ellison could feel the small hairs on the
back of his neck stand at attention as he entered the home of the Jones', who
just happened to be out of town for the holidays - at least according to their
answering machine.
The black powder that usually
revealed fingerprints had been dusted over the entire front entryway, as well
as every surface surrounding and including every phone in the house. The Jones'
were not going to be pleased when they returned from their holiday, Jim thought
grimly as he winced and walked to where the scent of his Guide was the
strongest, closing his eyes to concentrate on the odor and drink it in. He
didn't even hear the lead investigator's voice until the woman was nearly
shouting in his ear, and when he finally opened his eyes and looked at her, she
jumped a bit, startled.
"Uh, Detective
Ellison?" She said timidly as she held out her petite hand, "I'm
Vanessa Rice, with Forensics. Nice to meet you, Detective, I've heard a lot
about you," she said conversationally with a slight smile. The Sentinel
regarded her with a brief nod, then held out his hand like a robot to shake
hers before releasing it a second later so that he could concentrate fully on
his partner's scent.
"We've been over this
house with a fine-tooth comb Detective, and believe me, there truly isn't
anything here that would lead us to believe that your partner has been
harmed," Vanessa stated matter-of-factly, if not a bit nervously. Ellison
glanced at her once more, taking in her small frame and blonde hair and green
eyes, vaguely thinking that perhaps many years ago she would have been someone
he might have pursued for a date. That would be P. B., of course, he thought to
himself…Pre-Blair. Just thinking of his partner's name brought on a whole new
onslaught of guilt-laden grief, and Ellison swallowed hard a few times before
responding.
"Um, thanks,"
Jim said with an exaggerated throat-clearing, "I appreciate your efforts,
Ms. Rice. Have you found anything, anything at all? Prints of any kind? Hairs
of any kind?" The Sentinel asked anxiously, praying that they might have
found one - just ONE - long curly brown hair in the house.
"No, Detective
Ellison, nothing of the sort. I'm…I'm sorry. I know this man is your partner,
and we're doing all we can to try and find him," Vanessa said, the
hopeless look in her jade-green eyes betraying the confidence she was trying to
instill in Jim with her voice.
"I see," Jim
replied dryly before turning away from the small woman and focusing his senses
once again on his partner's scent. Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but
decided it would be best to leave the big man alone. She watched him silently,
casually following him around the interior of the house until he grunted
impatiently and headed out the front door. He stopped abruptly when he got to
the bottom of the front steps; Vanessa nearly rammed into his back, she was
following him so closely, wondering what in the hell he thought he was going to
find that neither she nor her 5 experienced co-workers had.
"There," Ellison
said simply, pointing to the ground beneath two of the parked squad cars and
following a path down and out of the driveway with his right index finger,
"They went that way," he said.
"What?" Vanessa
said incredulously, "Detective Ellison, there's nothing -" Jim cut
her off just as unceremoniously as he'd done to Simon earlier, "Yes, there
IS," he said forcefully, "There are tracks there, and these damned
excuses for so-called 'professionals' are sitting on them. MOVE THOSE VEHICLES IMMEDIATELY!" Jim shouted, leaving Vanessa
and the other half dozen or so workers staring at him with gaping jaws. All he
had to do after shouting was give one look - the look that clearly said 'Don't
Fuck With The Detective Of The Year' - and the cars were moved.
Jim crouched in the gravel
and ran his hands gently over the freezing cold rocks, feeling the indentations
from the vehicle that had been parked there mere hours before. "It's a
truck," he stated, ignoring all the incredulous and disbelieving looks
aimed towards him, "It was a truck, and it left here and headed
North," Ellison finished. No one spoke, just remained where they stood; he
heard the murmurs begin again, and shoved them violently aside in his head.
"What if he really is a Sentinel?" he caught as he stood up, then
from inside the house, "Jesus, what the hell is he, some sort of tracking
dog?"
'No,' Jim thought as he
wiped his hands off on his jean-clad thighs, 'I'm some kind of tracking cat. I'm a fucking Sentinel, and my
Guide is missing, and if you all don't get off your donut-loving asses and help
me, I'm going to kick all your fucking butts from here to Timbuktu'.
"Alright, Ms. Rice," Jim began as he met the young woman's
questioning gaze, "Here's how we're gonna' do this, capiche?"
"Yes sir, Detective
Ellison," the petite blonde replied, offering Jim a smile as she walked
slowly towards him, as though approaching a wild animal, "What do you want
us to do?" The young woman was most definitely not stupid; six years in
college and two degrees proved that. She realized that the magnificent man
before her was most likely exactly what Blair Sandburg had professed him not to be…she kept it to herself, as she
imagined she would for years to come, instead focusing on Jim's abilities and
reactions.
Vanessa Rice figured it
was only a matter of time before the Sentinel found his Guide, and she wanted
to be there when it happened. She offered Jim Ellison nothing more than a
slight smile and a nod as she stood next to him and listened to his theories,
and within minutes, she was in the van with her associates following the blue
and white truck. She didn't speak a word about the Sentinel that didn't exist
tracking the equally mythical Guide, content merely to be a part of the
experience of a day in the lives of the two amazing men. None of her colleagues
noticed her smile as they followed the invisible trail, led by the legendary
Detective Ellison of Cascade's Major Crimes Unit. Her smile faded as she
reached out and turned up the heat a bit, then said a silent prayer that they
would find Blair alive and not…she shook her head and blew on her chilled hands
in lieu of contemplating the worst case scenario.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
ANOTHER
UNDISCLOSED RURAL LOCATION
6:48 PM
It had been nearly five
hours since Detective Sandburg had been knocked out. Unbeknownst to the Guide,
the tall dark stranger had injected him with liquid Percoset after cracking him
on the head, and when Sandburg finally opened his eyes, everything was out of
focus and swimming…except him. He was resting on his side, cold and wet mud
beneath him, with his knees practically pulled up to his chest; it afforded him
the most space in the crude circular hole he had - he guessed - been lowered
into. In addition to the rest of his problems, Sandburg realized that he was
clad only in his boxer shorts. And it was dark. And there was snow falling on
him every few seconds.
"Ohhhfffffuck,"
Blair slurred aloud to no one, his voice bouncing off the walls closely surrounding
him. "Not cold and wet again, man. Shit,"
he voiced loudly, the echo haunting him and making him shiver even more. 'Can
you shiver when you're unconscious?' Sandburg thought to himself, then shrugged
the thought off when he realized that it was the shaking that had woken him in
the first place. "Great, man, just great,"
he spat out. It was one of the only things that he would say before the panic
set in. The real panic - which set in approximately four minutes later when his
captor's face showed itself nearly thirty feet above…and the dream from the
night before clarified in his memory.
"Aaaahhh, Detective
Sandburg, I see you're awake. Hungry?" The stranger asked from what seemed
like miles away, "I can arrange for a meal or two for you, if you're so
inclined." The only thing that Blair could really see were the bright
white teeth that grinned down at him, and he shook that much harder at the evil
grimace. "Oh, it's alright, Mr. Sandburg - or is that Detective Sandburg?
All the same…if you're hungry, all you have to do is yell, sweetie, and I'll be
here. Are you comfy cozy?"
"F-f-f-fuck
you," Blair hissed out from between chattering teeth at the figure looming
too far away to come into contact with, "Where the hell are m-m-my
clothes? Why don't you luh-let me go? What the hell do you need me for, anyway?" Sandburg inquired,
ignoring his body's refusal to calm. He tried to call his memory from that same
morning back - being in Jim's arms, the strong hot arms wrapped around him
bodily, protecting him, keeping him safe from what were supposed to be dream demons. Those dream demons ended up being so
much more - and Blair's attempt to warm himself the slightest bit failed as the
chill permeated what felt like another inch towards his bones.
"Oh Blair," the
man replied sweetly, "I have such plans for you, darling. You and all that
beautiful curly hair, and your compact little body, and…and…the knowledge that
doing you in will only lead your fair Sentinel to follow," he finished. He
ignored Blair's extended cry of "Noooooooo", instead pulling back
from the six-foot-wide by thirty-five-foot-deep hole in the ground and
revelling in the helpless man's cries. The stranger smiled as he piled several
rotting boards back over the gaping wound in the dirt, and then covered them
with dead leaves and fodder from the not-yet-completely-frozen yard. With the
cold and dampness in the air, it would only be a matter of time before the
self-proclaimed Guide was eradicated…and the real prize would undoubtedly show up in his place.
Heading back into his
house, the Cascade Monster sharpened his knives and other various tools as he
dreamt of what he would do once Detective Sandburg was frozen in his trap. He
could envision the young man succumbing to the cold, and see himself fishing
the Detective out of the hole. Could imagine pulling the freshly dead Blair
into his arms and carrying the sexy young man into his house. Laying his
beautiful muscular body out on the island in the kitchen, erotic blue lips and
frozen onyx eyes aiming up at the ceiling as his iced flesh was carved into,
stiff curls melting teardrops onto the already-crimson-stained countertop.
Jeremy Forer, aka 'The
Cascade Monster', allowed himself a moment of silence as his knife clattered to
the floor, momentarily losing himself in what he perceived to be the ultimate
wet dream. He rubbed his swollen black denim-clad groin against the unforgiving
pine that made up the cutting block, reaching up and releasing his own
jet-black ponytail as he allowed himself a moment of pure joy. Tossing his hair
around and stroking himself through his pants, he came unabashedly amidst
thoughts of slicing into the young Detective's flesh, cutting out those parts
that would ultimately bring his erstwhile and so-called non-existent Sentinel
the most joy.
Forer trailed his fingers
across the disappointingly small spot of semen that he'd managed to leave
dampening the front of his trousers, his thoughts focused solely on the young
man that continued - for the time being, anyway - to cry out in frustration,
anger, and fear in the backyard. It wouldn't be much longer now…not much longer
at all, he thought to himself as he bent and picked up his knife to continue
sharpening it. Soon, he would be able to give his all…every last bit of himself.
He'd waited for so long, and he hardened once again in his pants as he imagined
being able to spew as much as he felt. Hell, the kid was practically half-dead
already, if the color of his skin was any indication, Jeremy thought to himself
with a smile as he finished up his work. The only thing that was left to do now
was…wait.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20TH
CASCADE FREEWAY, 35 MILES FROM BLAIR
8:04 PM
Ellison had no choice but
to pull over. He'd been going non-stop all day long, and the events of the past
15 hours had begun to take their toll. Granted, he had been meticulously
following the tracks for just over 2 hours now, but added onto the hours that
he'd spent intently combing the crime scene from earlier on, he was fairly
exhausted. His senses were seriously fucking with him; the seemingly lit up
tire tracks he'd been following for the last hour were fading in the steadily
falling snow, and he found himself beating on the Ford's steering wheel, just
trying to calm down enough to pick up the pursuit once more. He was so close he
could almost smell it; he could practically imagine Blair's voice in his head,
and he forced himself to focus, just for a little while longer.
It was about that time
that Vanessa hopped out of the Forensic team's van, which had pulled over
behind Jim's truck, and made her way to the driver's side window of the Ford.
She took one look at Ellison and frowned. His head was hanging so that his chin
rested on his broad chest, and his hands fell from the steering wheel to land
helplessly in his lap as she watched. This couldn't be the Detective of the
Year she'd heard so much about.
Gathering her resolve,
Vanessa Rice - Forensic Team Leader - formed her right hand into a fist and
banged it against the Ford's driver side window. When she got no reaction from
the sole occupant of the truck, she repeated her motions twice - until
Detective Jim Ellison - who wasn't really
a Sentinel, right? - looked slowly up and to the left to meet her angry and insistent
gaze. She nearly lost her resolve when she saw the tears glimmering in the
Detective's eyes…but she simply knocked louder on the glass. The Ford was too
old to have power ANYTHING, and she felt herself take a step back as Detective
Ellison manually rolled his window down. He didn’t say a word, merely waited
exhaustedly for her to speak - which she did, several moments later.
"Look," Vanessa
began, "I know you aren't particularly fond of me. Most people aren't. In
fact, the only reason that my team is still on your ass is because I refuse to give up. I know that Blair Sandburg is more
than just your partner on the force, okay? I mean, pardon my French, but you'd
have to be fucking stupid not to know that, Detective." Detective Rice
gave the Sentinel a moment to respond, continuing when Jim merely nodded a bit
at her and raised one hand to motion for her to go on.
"Fine, Jim.
Look," Vanessa said, empowered by Ellison's acquiescence, "We are
going to find Sandburg, okay? And when we do, I'll be right there with you,
throwing a little fucking victory party. But we have to get to that point
first. So lead on, Detective…we are soooo
behind you," she finished with a wink and a nod. The Sentinel gazed at the
small woman for a moment before honoring her with a half-smile and a nod of his
own. Jim rolled up the Ford's window and revved up the engine. He knew he was
close, and thanks to Vanessa Rice, he was sure that it wouldn't be long before
he once again held his Guide in his loving arms.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
ANOTHER
UNDISCLOSED RURAL LOCATION
7:57 PM
At about the same time
that the Sentinel was getting his pep talk from the leader of the Forensics
Team, the Guide was beginning to lose his sense of positive thinking. Having
been in captivity for close to seven hours, Blair Sandburg was freezing
cold…and getting progressively worse. The asshole that had taken him had
dropped a hose about halfway down into the hole that Blair was trapped in,
proceeding to turn it on only when Sandburg had finally stopped screaming for
his Sentinel, thirty minutes or so previously. Blair's voice wasn't the only
thing that betrayed him; he could no longer feel any extremity on his body, and
he'd begun to cry hoarsely as he realized that exposure and frostbite would be
setting in soon. The pain that he first experienced hours before from the cold alone had vanished, giving way to
something even more frightening to the educated young man - total and complete
numbness.
The sorrowful hoarse
sounds that emanated from the pit in the ground served only to encourage the
beast that lurked around the still-camouflaged opening once or twice an hour.
Jeremy Forer cared not one bit that the sobbing young man in his trap only
served as an hors' d' oeuvre to the force that would surely follow; that of a
Sentinel in search of his missing Guide. The Guide's kidnaper had no idea what
fate would befall him when confronted with the primal imperative of a
centuries-old protector in search of the one soul that served only to reign him
in and watch over him - but he would. And soon.
Despite his struggles in
the ever-filling watery pit, it seemed Blair could hear his Sentinel speaking
to him, and it lent him a peace he hadn't known or felt in hours, if not days. "I'm coming, Blair, just hang on,"
was all Sandburg heard before he collapsed exhaustedly to his knees in the well
that was just large enough to contain his body if he lay down. He'd been trying
to jog in place and keep moving around for the past couple hours in order to
stay warm, but only managed to tire himself out.
As the water filled out
and edged its way up to his knees, the Guide felt nothing more than peace,
certain that no matter what might happen, the Sentinel would find him…whether it
be in this life or the next. "I love you, Jim," Blair murmured as the
water continued to rise achingly slowly, joined by errant snowflakes that
managed to find their way through the boards that loosely covered Blair's
prison. "Love You, My
Sentinel," he finished in a whisper, shivering and allowing himself the
warm tears that now streamed down his cheeks - nearly turning to ice before
they could reach his frozen lips - as he clutched his arms closer around his
middle and waited desperately for Jim's arrival.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
CASCADE
FREEWAY - ONE MILE FROM BLAIR
8:39 PM
Ellison pulled off the
highway once more, only this time it was to roll his window down and turn his
hearing all the way up. Vanessa and her team fell back as well, pulling off
several hundred yards behind the blue and white Ford they'd been following. She
instructed her crew to remain completely silent, in essence allowing Jim the
opportunity to thoroughly and unerringly track his missing Guide. She kept the
secret she'd managed to figure out to herself, trying only to catch a glimpse
of the Sentinel in action. They were too far back in the team's van, so she
merely crossed her arms and nodded once, then waited for Jim to start up the truck
once more and lead them to the lost young man.
Jim closed his eyes and
scented the frigid air that flooded the cab of the truck, listening intently
for only one thing - the sound of his Guide's heartbeat. It took him several
minutes to isolate all the other noises, but he managed to do it, and when he
finally did catch wind of Blair's location, he panicked instantly. The beloved
heartbeat was entirely too slow for his liking, and Ellison knew that something
was seriously amiss. Rolling his window up most of the way and revving the
truck to life, the Sentinel pealed out of the gravel alongside the freeway and
fishtailed back onto the road. Quickly getting control of the wheel, he took
the first available exit, not paying one bit of attention to whether or not
he'd lost the Forensic team. All that mattered was Blair and how quickly Jim
could get to the fading pulse that guided him.
Vanessa urged her driver
to keep up with the Detective as he practically flew from his erstwhile parking
space along the freeway, and thanks to quick action the team was in hot
pursuit. "Don't lose him," Vanessa stated excitedly, "We're
getting close," she stated, and the young man behind the wheel obeyed. She
wanted to be there when the Sentinel found his Guide; wanted to be able to
catalog all the responses and emotions for her own memory, despite the fact
that she'd never be able to make her findings public. It was enough in her own
mind to watch the drama unfold with the knowledge that all that she'd seen on
television the previous year was truly false.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
FRIDAY,
DECEMBER 20th
UNDISCLOSED
RURAL LOCATION
8:47 PM
There was only one
homestead in the immediate area, and Ellison knew instantly that it was where
his Guide was being held. The freeway exit led to nothing more than an unlit
paved road now covered in unending white, no gas station or restaurant in
sight. Nothing in sight, in fact, except a lone house that rested on what
appeared to be many acres of undeveloped land. The Sentinel turned the Ford's
headlights off and coasted up the road in the dark, stopping several hundred
yards past the inconspicuous and white-covered driveway. He hopped out of the
truck and began walking back to the house, relieved when Vanessa and the Forensic
team parked the van several hundred feet before the driveway, having watched
him and his actions carefully. It appeared that the Forensic team was the only
backup that Jim had available, and though he was grateful, he was equally
concerned that the bastard in the house might have backup of his own.
Jim felt marginally better
when he turned up his sight and saw that Vanessa was indeed packing her weapon,
as was the rest of the team. He watched as they stole silently up the front
walk and headed for the house's entrance, fanning out and using hand signals to
communicate as they'd been taught in the Academy. Jim's heart burst with pride
as he watched the operation, even as he opened his senses and turned his full
attention towards Blair's exact location. It took several minutes, but Ellison
finally had Sandburg's vitals locked in. The Sentinel stumbled through the
backyard purposefully, snow falling full-force now, stopping only when he
sensed the rotting wood several feet ahead; it didn’t fit in with the rest of
the scene, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Guide lay beneath
the carelessly laid trap.
"Blair?" The
Sentinel allowed himself to ask at regular vocal volume; he'd heard the
Forensic team capturing Jeremy Forer moments earlier, and with no other
heartbeats in the house, Ellison knew that all current threat had been
eradicated. He no longer wanted anything to do with the asshole that had taken
his partner; all he wanted was to find Blair. "Sandburg? I can smell
you…" Jim trailed off with a whisper, worry increasing his own heartbeat
even as he sensed his partner's slowing further by the second. Ellison tried to
shut out the groans and retching he could hear coming from inside the house as
the Detectives discovered furniture completely encased in dried human flesh, if
their quiet conversations and cursing were any indication.
"Sandburg!" Jim
shouted, kicking aside the out of place rotting boards and snow-coated dead
leaves and other debris to uncover the mouth of the well, "BLAIR!"
The Sentinel could actually feel his corneas enlarge and expand as he filtered
out the darkness to find his love. Blair was unconscious and on his knees,
resting in water up to his chest, shivering with his arms wrapped around
himself and seemingly beyond shock, hunched down at the bottom of the huge hole
that his Blessed Protector had managed to unearth. 'Some Blessed Protector I
am,' Jim thought to himself as he scrambled around the yard looking for and
finding the spigot to at least turn off the water that slowly but steadily
poured into the hole. That done, he immediately focused on finding some rope or
wire or any means of getting Blair
out of the ice-water laden intended tomb he currently rested in.
It was at that moment that
Vanessa strode proudly out of the house, beaming with delight that her crew had
managed to apprehend the 'Cascade Monster'. Her smile faded instantly to a look
of grief; Ellison was circling the yard as he struggled to find something to
retrieve his Guide with, crying out Blair's name every so often just to ensure
that the man was still with him, and he was not having much luck. She nearly
tripped over the very rope that had been used to lower the young man into the
hole, and she grabbed it up and ran to Ellison's side.
"Here," Vanessa
said as she strode toward the large Detective, "Tie it around my waist and
lower me down," she offered, ignoring Jim's shaking head. "Come ON,
Sentinel, you are way too big to go down there, and even if you did fit, I
couldn't pull you back up without alerting my entire team as to what you're
doing. Now let's go, soldier," Vanessa ordered.
Ellison managed to control
his own surprise at the small woman's words. He ignored her apparent
understanding of just what he was
long enough to shut his gaping jaw and tie the rope around her torso, tying the
knot just tight enough that she could be lowered and undo it to tie it around
his lover. "It's just like repelling," Vanessa said as she made her
way down into the darkness of the pit, her own teeth beginning to chatter,
"I did this in the Academy Jim, it's okay, really."
Jim could only nod mutely
in the darkness, holding tightly onto the rope that would serve as his Guide's
lifeline in mere minutes. He shivered as he heard Vanessa's gasp when she hit
the frigid water below, giving enough rope up to allow her to tie the line to
Blair's bare midriff so that he could be hoisted up. She called to Ellison and
yanked on the line once she'd secured the young man, and Jim pulled slowly but
surely, his pulse racing with apprehension at the prospect of holding his lover
in his arms within minutes.
The Sentinel ignored his
own wishes and turned his mind to business, pulling Sandburg up and into his
arms, pausing only momentarily to celebrate finding his lost love. Blair was so
frozen already that he maintained his kneeling position even as he was moved,
and Jim allowed a strangled gasp to escape from between his lips, which were
already numb from the cold wind and snow blowing around him. With a brief kiss
to the unconscious and frozen man's temple, Jim laid the young man carefully to
the ground at his feet and then quickly lowered the rope once more so that
Vanessa could tie it back around her waist, allowing the strong Detective to
lift her to safety.
Vanessa Rice barely
managed to find purchase on the ground at the top of the well before Ellison
released the rope, nearly plunging her back into the depths of the prison she'd
so recently escaped. She grunted once indignantly before catching her breath -
and her footing - so that she could watch the scene before her finish
unfolding. She instantly forgave Jim Ellison for any misgivings she might have
had as she watched the burly Detective drop to his knees and pull his coat off,
wrapping it around his Guide and kissing the icy curls that rested directly
beneath his chiseled chin. Huge snowflakes blowing down from the sky coated all
of them, and Vanessa found herself choked up as she listened in to the
dialogue. "Chief," the Sentinel gasped quietly, "Oh God, Blair,"
Ellison said between kisses to his young partner's head, "I'm here
sweetheart…I'm so sorry I'm late," Jim finished, oblivious to the fact
that Vanessa was watching and hearing everything. He immediately concentrated
all his attention back on the rigid form in his arms before gathering Blair
back up and standing, heading directly for the warmth of the house.
"You can't take him
inside, Jim! It's too warm in there…it'll make the shock worse," Vanessa
shouted at the big man's retreating back. She ran up to where he had stopped
and said, "I'm, uh, going to make sure they called -" she cut her
voice off as the sounds of sirens in the distance approached, "Okay,
ummmm…thank you Ellison." She saw him no more than nod as she headed for
the house so she could wave the paramedics in and towards where they were most
desperately needed.
Vanessa was pleased that
the ambulance had made its way to the front of the house before she'd had a
chance to get inside. The smell alone would have been able to drop ten
men…hell, she'd lost two of her own to the porcelain gods as it was…and she had
no desire to watch Jim Ellison fight off nausea at the same time that he was
trying to save his unresponsive partner. She watched as the medics ran out the
back door, ignoring the scenery that they passed, taking Blair Sandburg's
still-huddled form from his bewildered Sentinel's arms and wrapping him up in
thermal blankets. It wouldn't be possible to warm the Guide quickly without
causing coma or death; both Ellison and Rice knew that. Jim stood stone-still,
his too-empty arms dropped to his sides as he watched silently and grimly while
Blair was strapped onto a gurney and wheeled back through the house and out the
front door to the waiting vehicle.
"C'mon Ellison,"
Vanessa said as she patted his arm, "Let's go. I'll drive your truck and
we'll follow them…you're in no condition to drive, and this weather is sucking
worse by the second." When she got no response from the big man, she
patted him harder and repeated his name until he finally nodded once and
allowed her to lead him to the front of the house. Her detectives would take
care of the rest of the details, and Vanessa Rice would get to play
voyeur…making sure that both men
would survive the night.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
SATURDAY,
DECEMBER 21st
CASCADE
GENERAL HOSPITAL
12:14 AM
Blair had been transported
to the local 'mom-and-pop' medical center before being airlifted back to
Cascade General, thanks to an impatient and close to unintelligible call from
Sentinel to CPD Captain. Hypothermic with an 80-degree body temperature and
mild frostbite to his fingers, toes, ears, and nose, the Guide remained
unconscious with a dangerously low pulse & temperature the entire time he
was being moved. Jim Ellison allowed Vanessa Rice to drive his Ford back to
Cascade, arriving at the hospital roughly an hour and a half after the chopper
had taken off with his partner.
The seasoned Detective had
nearly zoned three times on the way back to Cascade, so lost was he in thoughts
of his Guide, partner, and lover. The only thing Ellison found that he could
concentrate on was watching the snow, and he kept finding himself mesmerized by
it. Were it not for Vanessa blaring the radio with Christmas tunes (and singing
loudly and quite purposely off-key) every time she caught Jim staring out the
window for too long, he would have been incapacitated long before they reached
the city. She breathed a huge sigh of relief - which it seemed she'd been
holding since leaving Forer's home - when the neon sign announcing Cascade
General and the blue sign signalling the exit finally came simultaneously into
view.
"We're here,"
Vanessa announced as she unbuckled her seatbelt and looked slowly to her right.
She drank in every nuance of Jim's appearance at that moment - the haggard face
with unshaven five o'clock shadow. The tired and drooping azure eyes sunken
into pale skin, and the lines of exhaustion and self-inflicted grief that
appeared to burrow into the large man's forehead and lips. "Come on, Jim.
Blair's here and he needs you. Let's go, okay?" She asked tentatively,
only mildly pleased when Ellison nodded once - as had been his standard
response since finding Blair - and silently unbuckled his own seatbelt. She
pulled her coat closed around her front after hopping down and out of the Ford,
racing around to Jim's side to open the door. He had managed to let himself out
of the truck, and she grabbed his elbow to steady the both of them as they made
their way through the heavily falling snow and freezing wind and through the
automatically opening front doors of Cascade General.
"Hey," said a
forty-something security guard seated behind the Information Desk,
"Visiting Hours are from - " Vanessa managed a glare that would have
stopped Hitler in his tracks that silenced the guard as she reached into her
coat pocket and pulled out her Detective's badge. "We're here for Blair
Sandburg…this is his partner, James Ellison, and Captain-" her words were
cut off by the sound of Jim's name coming from behind where the two weary and
snow-covered Detectives stood.
"Banks, Ms. Rice,
Simon Banks, nice to meet you - and thank you for bringing my Detective
in," the large dark-skinned man managed around a mouthful of unlit cigar,
his large hand held out in greeting. Vanessa shook the Captain's hand and
glanced worriedly up at Ellison, only to have her fears put to rest…for the
moment, anyway.
"He'll be fine, Ms.
Rice," Simon said, "He's just-" Vanessa cut the Captain off in
mid-explanation.
"He's sensing Blair,
isn't he?" She asked, and Simon's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull.
"It's okay, Captain Banks," Vanessa said quickly, "I saw that
press conference last year. This evening, I've been privileged to play the
observer myself," she finished shyly, looking to the tiled floor for
comfort. "I know, sir…but I
swear I won't tell a soul, honest," she finished, once again meeting
Banks' dark chocolate gaze while she held up two fingers in a mock 'Scout's
Honor' pose.
Simon merely smiled at the
small woman - before concernedly sparing a glance at the still-motionless
Sentinel at her side - and replied, "They're special, Detective Rice.
That's all I can say."
"You don't need to
say any more, sir," Vanessa replied as she tugged on Jim's coat sleeve and
urged him towards the elevator that Simon was walking briskly towards, "I
totally understand. Will he be…" her voice trailed off as the elevator
doors slid open and Simon motioned her inside, Ellison still lightly in tow.
"Just watch, Ms.
Rice," Simon said as he grinned around his stogie, "Just wait and
watch. It's like magic." Content that Captain Banks had been informed
favorably regarding Blair's condition, Vanessa released the arm of Jim's shirt
and wrapped her arms around her middle as they rode towards Sandburg's floor.
Jim Ellison didn't so much as flinch, even when the elevator dinged that they'd
reached their destination. He simply exited the metal car and walked,
unerringly, down the hall to Blair's room.
"I told you,"
Simon said once more with a quiet chuckle, "It's like magic." All
Vanessa could do was nod as she followed the Captain to the Waiting Area in the
opposite direction that the Sentinel had gone, believing - for the first time
in her life - in miracles.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
SATURDAY,
DECEMBER 21st
CASCADE
GENERAL HOSPITAL
12:33 AM
"Ahhh, we've been
expecting you Detective," the familiar nurse tending to Blair said with a
slight smile as Jim entered his partner's room. "This is quite a fix he's
ended up in tonight," she continued, her smile fading as she took in the
Sentinel's grim and over-exhausted features.
"How is he?" Jim
grunted at her as he pulled the cheap orange plastic chair from the wall across
the room to rest at Blair's bedside. As he had so many times previously,
Ellison sat and clutched one of Sandburg's still-lifeless and heavily bandaged
hands in his own large paw, seated as close to the edge of the hospital bed as
he could get without climbing on top of his Guide.
"Careful with his
hands, Mr. Ellison," the nurse cautioned, making Jim jump a bit until she
rested a hand gently on his shoulder, "The frostbite was minor, but he
shouldn't be jostled around. While you were en-route, we had to soak him bodily
in warm water to bring his temperature up a bit so we could wrap him in electric
blankets," she explained. Her heart nearly broke when she saw the look on
Jim's face as he gazed down at his partner. Clearing her throat, she quickly
continued, "He's nearly back up to normal now, but the exhaustion and
shock and exposure have taken their toll. He's very tired, and may not regain
consciousness until sometime tomorrow. I'm sure that you being here will be a
great relief," she finished, patting the large man once more on the
shoulder before leaving him alone with his charge.
"Chief," Ellison
said softly, stroking Blair's errant and long-since thawed curls with the hand
not now-loosely grasping his lover's, "I'm here, babe. I'm not leaving
you, not ever again, okay?" The burly Sentinel was not surprised when
there was no response; he rested his elbows on the edge of the hospital bed and
buried his tired face in his hands. Still holding Blair's hand gingerly in his
grasp, Jim allowed himself the tears he'd been holding back for hours, sobbing
quietly until his heaving chest hurt and he had nothing more to give,
physically or emotionally. Exhausted on all counts, the Sentinel slumped over
the edge of his Guide's bed and drifted off, memories of that morning's comfort
just out of his tired grasp as the Cascade Monster invaded all attempts at
rest.
Meanwhile, out in the
Waiting Area, Simon Banks placed his still-unlit stogie back in its case and
motioned for Vanessa to rest her head on his shoulder. With very little
hesitation she acquiesced, realizing that the long night was about to get one
hell of a lot longer. Simon patted the top of her head and smiled a bit as the
young woman rested. Miracles did take their time, after all, Banks thought to
himself as he allowed his cheek to rest lightly atop her head before drifting
off.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
SATURDAY,
DECEMBER 21st
CASCADE
GENERAL HOSPITAL
9:53 AM
Jim woke blearily, rubbing
his eyes and trying to focus on the light coming into the room from an angle
other than that of a skylight over his bed…no, their bed, he reprimanded himself immediately…before remembering
where he was and why. Instead of being spooned up next to his lover, as he so
adored, Ellison found himself scrabbling for the
lost-in-the-middle-of-the-night digits of his life partner. Finally locating
and gently bringing said heavily-wrapped digits to his lips for a gentle kiss,
the Sentinel of the Great City released his Guide's still-bandaged hand and
rolled his head around, wincing at the creaking bone sounds.
Stiff from sleeping at
Blair's bedside all night, Jim stood and stretched fully before allowing
himself the luxury of drinking in his Guide's vital signs. After seating
himself once more next to his still-slumbering partner, Jim focused all his
senses on Blair Sandburg. Opening up hearing and scent and touch, Ellison
gently grazed Sandburg's forehead with nimble fingertips, carefully avoiding
the bandages that adorned his lover's tortured features. Drinking in as much as
he could with such limited contact, Jim closed his eyes and focused his entire
being on his lover.
Sentinel read Guide as had
been done for centuries before them; Jim mapped all of Blair's reactions and
lack thereof within seconds. Heartbeat, blood pressure, body temperature,
tactile response - each sign appeared as judge and jury to the concerned
Blessed Protector. Despite the caring inventory and positive feedback, Sandburg
remained motionless, much to Jim's dismay.
Once again resting his
hulking figure in the less-than-adequate orange plastic chair next to his
lover's bed, Ellison found himself yet again at the end of his proverbial rope.
Blair had been unconscious for hours now, and Jim was impatient. He needed to
see Blair's ice-blue eyes opening to gaze up at his own. Needed to hear the
ever faithful and grounding Guide voice. Needed to feel Blair's pulse racing
beneath his own. Needed to smell Blairscent coating his own. Needed to taste
his Guide's warm lips and tongue and know that the younger man was truly alive
and well.
"Sandburg," Jim
leaned forward and whispered into the prone young man's left ear, nuzzling
auburn curls as he spoke, "Sandburg, I'm here, babe. Just wanted you to
know that I'm here and I love you," Jim finished with a lilt in his tone
and a lump in his throat larger than the entire state of Washington.
"Please…you have to be okay," Jim begged as tears welled, "I'm
so fucking sorry, Blair," Ellison continued…so lost in his own grief that
he neglected to notice the increase in pulse and blood pressure that signalled
Sandburg's waking. "I know I swore to always protect you after the Golden,
and after Alex," Jim continued, his voice breaking as he attempted to
finish. "And the last time after Zoeller-" Ellison's vocal chords
betrayed him and he dropped his head once more to his Guide's bedside, unaware
that the young man had heard his last few murmurs.
"Juh," Blair
managed to rasp out, eyes still closed, waking slowly in the light of his
hospital room. He could hear and feel the vibrations of quiet sobbing coming
from his left side and despite his injuries, Sandburg was thrilled that the
Cascade Monster had not managed to kill him or
maim him - from what he could tell, anyway. Alas, he still did not have the
strength to alert his intensely preoccupied Sentinel to the fact that he was
indeed awake and well. So the Guide rested himself while he listened to his
Blessed Protector pour his heart out vocally - something that neither man would
ever have expected.
"Blair," Jim
whispered, his normally gruff voice curtained with concern and the guilt that
had been plaguing him since leaving Blair in the station earlier that day,
"I'll never leave you alone again, I swear to you," Ellison murmured
quietly. Tears soaked his over-tired eyes as he spoke softly to his lover,
"I know I've said it before…and I've let things come between us…but I
won't, not ever a-fucking-gain, Blair," the Sentinel assured his lover,
"Please, baby, just please wake up and let me know that you're
alright."
No sound or motion was
forthcoming, and Jim found himself burying his face once again in his own
folded strong arms that bordered his smaller counterpart's bedside. It wasn't
until Blair managed to gather up his resolve - and his remaining arsenal of
strength - to speak the Sentinel's name aloud and pull Jim from his own
self-inflicted prison of guilt. "Jim," Blair gasped, then waited for
several minutes so the sound of his voice could sink into Ellison's
self-depricating head. As Sandburg had expected, it took a small amount of
time, but eventually the larger man's head snapped to attention at Blair's
bedside, wide-open cobalt eyes searching his partner's for reciprocation.
Long brunette eyelashes
fluttered and shut, fluttered and shut, then fluttered once more before opening
to reveal the aquamarine prize that Ellison had so longed to see.
"Chief," Ellison whispered softly with a quivering grin,
"Blair," the Sentinel whimpered happily.
"Yeah, I'm here
man," Blair replied breathily, reaching out to his Blessed Protector with
bandaged hands - only to find them both gently clutched, kissed gingerly once,
then laid carefully back at his sides.
"Don’t move too much
baby, the doctors and nurses said you're still fragile because of the
frostb…" Jim lost his voice and allowed his eyes to disengage from his
Guide's, suddenly finding the white cotton sheets beneath his hands interesting
beyond belief.
"Jim," Blair
murmured softly; his beautiful lips now tortured - parched and chapped from the
cold he'd been subjected to. "Luh…look at me, Jim," the young man
urged softly, smiling a bit when the Sentinel finally met his gaze once more.
"This," Sandburg whispered, motioning up and down his sheet-clad
figure with his bandaged hands before looking once more into his Blessed
Protector's eyes and continuing, "Is what happens when you leave the Guide
behind, man."
Blair's weak but
still-glowing gaze seemed to take on a life of its own as he watched his
Sentinel squirm in the cheap orange plastic chair. Ellison finally stood up and
stalked away from his lover's bedside, pausing to look blindly out the window
as he blinked back fresh tears. Swallowing his pride and the lump in his throat that could compete with the size of his
love for Blair, Jim choked out, "I'm sorry. I'm…I'm sorry that I didn’t
trust you. Even after everything we've been through together, I still - but I
was only trying to protect you!"
Ellison exclaimed as he wheeled back around to find Blair wincing at his tone.
"Goddammit
Chief," Jim said as he once again approached his lover's bedside, this
time refusing to take the seat closer to his partner, "I can't apologize
to you…I just don't have any more excuses. I love you, and I don't want you to
get hurt…EVER!" The Sentinel's tone turned to one of frustration, and the
big man clenched his teeth and his fists, looking angrily around the room for
something to strike out against.
"Jim," Blair
whispered before breaking out into a series of rasping coughs that had the
Sentinel instantly on his ass in the orange chair next to his lover's bed, all
thoughts of frustration and anger instantly dissipated.
"Ssssh, Sandburg,
it's okay…I…it's okay, really, I swear, don't stress, sweetheart. Just rest,
okay?" Ellison implored as he once more took a hand swathed in bandages
between his own healthy ones and brought it to his lips gingerly, kissing the
knuckles before placing the extremity back at his partner's side. Blair closed
his eyes slowly with relief and let the corners of his mouth stray upward as
Jim placed a hand over his face, using his super sensitive fingertips to brush
a few strands of errant curls away from his beloved's forehead.
Minutes later, once
Blair's heartbeat had found its resting rhythm, Jim allowed himself a deep sigh
before dropping his chin to his chest. A soft tap at the door caught his
attention, and Jim was out of his chair and standing in the hall in front of
Simon Banks in a matter of seconds, eager to keep his other half resting
comfortably.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"How's the kid,
Jim?" Simon asked, stifling a smirk at Ellison's shocked expression when
Vanessa Rice sidled out of the ladies room, up the hall, and stopped at Banks'
side.
"Um, he's going to be
fine, sir, just fine. Vanessa, you're still here," Jim said with a hint of
a smile, "I wanted to thank you again for all of your help last night. I
don't think I would've been able to find Blair without your help…I…I'm not sure
how you knew about my Zones and everything - " Ellison was having
significant trouble expressing his gratitude, and the Forensics Detective took
pity on him.
"Detective Ellison,
it was a pleasure working with you, and I am thrilled that I could assist you
in finding your partner," the petite blonde said whole-heartedly with
nothing less than a blinding smile of her own. "Captain Banks, I do
believe you promised me breakfast, did you not?" Rice asked the large man
to her left, and Simon appeared to blush as he nodded, quickly trying to save
face as he cleared his throat.
"Yes, well, now that
we're sure Sandburg will be alright, I suppose it's okay for us to go on home…I
mean, go to breakfast," Simon amended before shaking his head furiously.
He took Vanessa's hand in his own and led her up the hall towards the elevators
with nothing more than a wink to Jim, who smiled and shook his own head slowly
back and forth as he turned and entered his lover's room once more.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
SATURDAY,
DECEMBER 21st
CASCADE
GENERAL HOSPITAL
2:36
P.M.
"Unnnhhh,"
emitted from the hospital bed, and instantly Jim was at Blair's side. Ellison
had been standing at the window for the past couple of hours watching the
blizzard outside as it coated all the trees and cars in the hospital's parking
lot with inches upon inches of snow and ice. All he could do was think to
himself, over and over, how thankful he was that he'd found Blair before…he
shook off that final thought as he sat once again in the hated chair next to
Sandburg's bed, taking his lover's hand gently in his own.
"Chief? It's me,
Blair. I'm here, you're in the hospital, and you're going to be just fine, the
doctors promised. It's the only thing I wanted for Christmas, and they told me
they're playing Santa this year," Jim continued snidely, pleased when a
tiny grin met his comments.
"But I'm Jewish,
Jim," Blair murmured as he opened his eyes to look up at the man he loved
more than life itself.
"Well, that's the
downside, Darwin. They can't fix that…I already asked them," Jim replied
mock-seriously, chuckling aloud when his younger partner stuck out his tongue
in retort.
"How…how did you ever
find me, Jim?" Blair asked softly, exhaustion and relief playing havoc
with his emotions and making his eyes fill with tears. "I was so sure that
you'd never be able to track me all the way out there; so certain that I'd die
down there in that hole, cold and wet and…just like last time." Sandburg's
voice trailed off and he turned his head away from his Sentinel to hide his
shame. "And it would've been all my fault because I didn't wait for
backup," the young man finished as he stared at the wall with salty drops falling
down his nose and one cheek to soak into his pillow. "I was so angry, Jim,
so mad that you wouldn't let me go with you…I had no right…and look what
happened," Blair finished with a sob that Jim felt in the core of his very
soul.
"Blair, don't,"
the Sentinel said as he reached over and placed two fingers under the young
man's chin and gently forced the beautiful face back to meet his concerned
gaze, "I'm your Sentinel, Chief. Of course I'd find you, no matter where
you were. I can't believe that you went off on your own…but I'd never be angry
with you for trying to solve a case. Never, Blair. Especially when I'm so
well-known for going against protocol myself," Jim finished with a smug
grin.
"Now, once you're
well, yeah, I am going to kick your
ass…but you know I'll only do it out
of love and a screaming case of Blessed Protector Syndrome, as you call it. And
the make-up sex is so much better,
Chief," Ellison waggled his eyebrows at his prone lover and delighted in
the smile that met his joke. Jim reached down and swiped away the glistening
drops that still stained Blair's cheeks, before leaning down and pressing a
gentle kiss to the young man's eager lips.
"Sleep, baby. I know
you need your rest, and I want you out of here in time for Christmas morning,
okay? And in spite of all of this, I'm still willing to overlook the fact that
you don't celebrate the damned holiday."
"Anything for you,
Jim," Blair replied sleepily, "Anything…so long as we do it
together."
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
852
PROSPECT
TUESDAY,
DECEMBER 24th
5:45
P.M.
"I can't believe you
got me sprung early, man!" Blair exclaimed happily as he stood beside his
Sentinel at the entrance to the loft, eager to get inside and onto the couch
ASAP once Jim unlocked the door. The younger man wasn't quite back to his usual
bouncing self, but Ellison was certain that it wouldn't be long before he had
his Guide and partner and lover and other half back 150%. The bandages had all
been removed, and Blair Sandburg was on his way back to yet another full
recovery - and wouldn't be in need of Cascade General's services for some time
to come if Ellison had anything to say about it.
"Well, believe
it," Jim growled impatiently as he struggled to hold onto his Guide's
elbow with one hand and unlock the door with clumsy, excited fingers. Finally,
the key slid into place and Ellison swung the door open, ushering his young
charge through the doorway and into the loft - where the young man immediately
froze in his tracks.
"Oh. Oh Jim. Wow,"
was the last thing to leave Sandburg's lips as the young man walked into the
living room, shaking his head in disbelief at the tableau before him. Jim stood
back and watched with a cat-that-just-swallowed-the-canary look on his features
as Blair looked around the loft in awe.
With help from Megan,
Simon, and Vanessa, Jim had been able to transform the loft into a veritable
'Winter Wonderland', with twinkling soft white lights illuminating the outline
of every room, including winding up the stairs to the bedroom the two men
shared. A fully-bedecked Christmas tree stood along the wall next to the
sliding glass doors leading out to the balcony, which were similarly outlined
in tiny white glowing specks. Carefully wrapped treasures rested beneath - most
addressed to Blair from Santa - but it would be Christmas morning before
Sandburg even noticed that detail.
"Jim," Blair
whispered in disbelief, shuffling to the much-dreamed-about sofa to plop down
in front of a roaring fire (safely set half an hour previously by Simon and
Vanessa), still glancing up at the decorations. "Jim, I thought…I thought
you hated Christmas, man," the Guide muttered as he smiled widely and
allowed himself to rest back against the support of the couch, finally letting
his eyes close and his head to drop back in happiness, relieved beyond words to
be home.
"Yeah, well,"
Jim replied gruffly as he took off his coat and hung it on one of the pegs by
the front door, "Contrary to popular belief, you can teach an old dog new tricks, Sandburg." Ellison watched as
his Guide broke into a wide but tired grin of his own at the sentiment.
"Come on,
Chief," Jim said as he approached the sofa and reached out a hand towards
his exhausted partner in everything, "Beddy-bye time. You have to get to
bed before Santa comes, you know, or he won't bring you anything."
"He already has, Jim.
Years ago, man. He gave me you," Blair replied as his eyes fluttered
tiredly open, tears of happiness brimming at the edges of ice-blue orbs that
Ellison never tired of gazing into. With that, Sandburg reached out and took
the hand that was offered, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet and into
the arms of everything that his life had become some ten-plus years previous.
He allowed a deep sigh of contentment as James Joseph Ellison, Sentinel of their Great City, wrapped his huge arms
around him bodily and urged Blair towards and up the stairs to the big bed that
awaited.
Tucking the younger man
in, Jim smiled as Blair barely managed to gurgle out a 'love you, man,' before
rolling over and burrowing into his welcoming pillows. Ellison headed back
downstairs to sit contendedly in front of the now-roaring fire, listening to
the most precious soundtrack of his life - his Guide's heartbeat above him. Jim
let his own tears of relief fall, and sometime later, as the fire popped and
faded to nothing more than a few glowing embers, some clock somewhere struck
twelve. It was Christmas, and all that he'd ever wished for was right where it
belonged, well and truly above him.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
The End.