Crashing Into Forgiveness

Author’s Note: This story is dedicated with all my love to Sponge, who is often my muse in human form and gifts me with ideas whether she means to or not. No copyright infringement intended with this tale - just borrowing a grumpy sentinel, his stoic captain, and an ingenious anthropologist for a little non-profit fun and angst. Comments always welcome.

“Sandburg.” The sentinel’s voice was a study in barely controlled patience. “Why is there a river in the middle of the road?”

Blair peered through the windshield at the stream that flowed merrily before them, creating an abrupt end to the dirt road on which they were traveling. Then he lifted the map in his hands and held it up, tracing down a line with his finger. After several moments, the anthropologist turned the map the other way around and started to retrace. That was when the barely controlled patience failed. Grumbling loudly, Ellison snatched the map from his partner and got out of the truck, walking around to the front and spreading it out over the hood. Blair slid out of the truck and followed him.

“It’s not that bad,” he began, trying to get around his friend’s bulk to point at a spot on the map. “We just missed a turn, that’s all.”

“I don’t blame you,” Jim told him with a martyred sigh. “I blame myself for ever agreeing to let you navigate. Chief, you’ve been in college for ten years. In all that time didn’t you ever have a geography course?”

“I can navigate just fine,” Blair retorted with an insulted air. “It’s not my fault if the roads aren’t marked.” He ducked under the detective’s arm and tried to snatch the map back. Ellison slammed him in a headlock and they wrestled for control over the map.

“What are you two doing?”

Both men looked up somewhat guiltily at the stern face glaring at them from the passenger window of the truck.

“Just trying to get our directions straight, Simon,” Blair called out cheerfully, taking advantage of the momentary distraction to squirm his way to freedom.

“My directions are perfectly straight,” Jim growled, shoving his friend away roughly. “It’s you that got us lost. I’m amazed you can even find your way out of the loft every day.”

“Well, why don’t you both work on getting us ‘unlost’,” Banks ordered them. “I would like to make camp sometime today. Although why you two wanted a weekend in the wilderness so soon after our lovely vacation in the jungles of Mexico is beyond me.”

“It was your idea!” the two men simultaneously cried out in indignation.

Simon just waved a dismissal and pulled his head back in through the window. He knew perfectly well whose idea it had been to come out here. His comment was meant as a distraction, something to diffuse Jim’s rapidly growing irritation with Blair. It was the reason he had proposed the entire trip in the first place. Something was wrong with those two. It was something the casual observer would never notice. Outwardly they were congenial, friendly, joking. But someone who knew them as well as Simon did could tell something was off. That closeness between them that had been inherent almost from the beginning was gone. Replaced by tension. Things between them were strained, and had been ever since they’d returned from Mexico.

Six weeks had passed. It seemed like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. Almost as soon as they’d stepped off the plane, Blair had come down with a virulent lung infection. Not surprising, being that he’d almost drowned and then had checked himself out of the hospital AMA to travel across the country so he could run for his life while dodging bullets and spend days arduously hiking through a humid jungle.

No, that wasn’t right, a tiny voice in Banks’ mind corrected him. Sandburg hadn’t ALMOST drowned. He did drown. He died. Simon had seen it with his own eyes. The kid was lying there on the ground, stone dead. Not breathing. No heartbeat. Even the EMTs had given up on him. Blair was gone. At least until... Jim brought him back. Simon didn’t know how, but that he had also seen with his own eyes. Ellison had somehow coaxed life back into his still friend and Blair had come back. But he wasn’t the same.

Sandburg had always had an energy level bordering on hyperactive, but for the past six weeks he’d been subdued. Withdrawn, even. He was spending less time at the station and more time at Rainier. Granted, some of that was due to his illness. It was severe enough to keep him bedridden for days and he suffered with a lingering, hacking cough for weeks. The infection left him drained, and left him with a lot to catch up on at the university. But Simon had a feeling there was more to Blair’s changed attitude than just an extended recovery. What happened at the fountain that terrible day was not something that the kid would easily shake off. Some people could. Banks was one of those. He was happy enough to offer up a prayer of thanks for the miracle and then move on. But Sandburg wasn’t one of those. He was always looking for the deeper meaning in things. And Simon knew he was dying to work it all out and explore the mystical side of what had happened. Likewise, Simon also knew that Jim wanted no part of that and was shutting him down. What happened at the fountain was in the past, but it was causing present problems. Blair had a denied need to talk, and Jim had an impossible need to forget. It was eating them both alive. That, and whatever happened down there in Mexico.

Simon didn’t know all the details. He didn’t want to know. It was bad enough from what he’d been able to piece together. Jim had pulled a gun on Blair and Connor. Sandburg tried to joke about it, but he couldn’t quite hide the underlying hurt that his partner hadn’t known it was him. And then there was the morning where Banks and Connor had woken up in the church to find the other two gone. When they returned, Jim fielded questions as to where they’d been with two monotone words. “The beach.” He was locked down tight. Blair just seemed sad and defeated. And it only got worse with the way Jim was bound and determined to protect Alex Barnes. The woman who had coldly murdered the man Ellison claimed to be his best friend.

A lot had happened in a very short time. Transgressions were committed on both sides, and the hurts caused were not the sort to fix themselves. Jim and Blair didn’t seem to be doing anything to fix the situation, either, which put them right on the path toward self-destruction. Which is why Simon felt the need to step in. Sandburg could definitely be a pain, but Banks couldn’t deny he was an asset to the department with the way he waded through mountains of paperwork and did background research. Even his vast obscure knowledge on all manner of subjects had led to breakthroughs on several cases. But that was all secondary to the effect he had on Ellison. He helped Jim do some pretty incredible things, and just seemed to generally mellow out the moody detective. Everyone had noticed it. Ellison was easier to work with and just plain happier since Blair had come into his life. As unconventional as it was, the two of them made a good team. And Simon was not about to stand by and let them fall apart. That’s why he suggested a weekend trip to an isolated spot in the woods with no distractions and no avoidance, where Ellison and Sandburg would be forced to deal with each other. They’d either heal themselves or blow up completely, but Simon was betting on healing. They just cared too much about each other for there to be any other alternative.

But the plan was going wonderfully so far. Banks took off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his eyes as he listened to the bickering that was still continuing outside. Maybe this process was going to need a little authoritative help to get the ball rolling.

“Will you two shut up and get back in the truck?” he bellowed, sticking his head out the window once more. “Let’s just turn around and go back and you can fight on the way.”

Throwing up his hands in a gesture of surrender, Sandburg walked around the truck and entered through the driver’s side, squirming his way into the cramped middle. The vehicle was not really meant to comfortably accommodate a trio, but out of the three of them, Jim’s truck was the only one suited to travel off the beaten path. Ellison deliberately folded the map, taking his time, and then came around to slip behind the wheel. He turned the key and fired up the ignition, throwing the truck into reverse a bit forcefully. The sentinel made a careful three point turn to get them turned around, and then they started bouncing back the way they’d come, a sullen silence pervading the cab of the truck.

They’d gone about two miles when, without warning, Jim cursed loudly and jerked the wheel. The truck swerved violently and the tires began sliding on the layer of dead leaves covering the road. Ellison fought for control of the vehicle but he couldn’t get any traction and the truck began to go into a tailspin, sliding rapidly closer to the edge of the road that dropped off into a deep ravine. Belatedly, Simon realized that he was the only one still wearing a seatbelt, and so he tried to hold onto Sandburg as they started to go over the edge. But the truck rolled and Banks lost his grip on the younger man as they crashed down into the ravine in a series of jarring flips.

“Simon. He’s starting to come around.”

Blair heard the muffled sound, but the words didn’t make sense to him. All he could focus on was the incredible pain throbbing in his skull. Hands were touching him, more words coming at him. Sandburg just wished for them to go away. He merely wanted to be left alone, to sink back into the comforting darkness, away from the pain. But the hands and the voice were relentless. Urgent, and pleading.

“Come on, Chief. Open your eyes for me. You can do it.”

Jim. That much became clear as some of the awareness started to come back to the anthropologist. He lacked the energy to respond, but ‘go to hell’ was his first instinct.

“Blair, come on, you’re scaring me. Please, buddy, open your eyes.”

Damn it, how could he refuse that? Slowly, Sandburg forced his eyes to blink open, and after a few moments the blurry figures of Jim and Simon swam more or less into focus.

“Welcome back,” the sentinel told him softly, unable to contain a grin of relief.

“God, my head,” Blair moaned, squeezing his eyes shut again and reaching a shaking hand up to his temple, feeling an unfamiliar bandage.

“Yeah, you took a pretty bad hit, there,” Jim explained, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Do you remember what happened?”

“We crashed,” Sandburg answered simply, stiffening slightly at the nightmarish memory of getting thrown around the cab of the truck.

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” Simon added drolly. “Would you like to tell him why we took an unscheduled detour?”

“I had my sight dialed up to make sure we didn’t miss the turn and I got blinded by the sun,” the sentinel admitted sheepishly.

“Are you guys ok?”

“Yeah, we’re both all right,” the detective replied. “I’m a little banged up and Simon hit his knee on the dash, but we’re doing ok. Better than you, judging by that look on your face.”

Blair’s grimace of pain morphed into a scowl as he briefly opened his eyes to glare at his friend, noticing the position of the sun as he did so.

“How long have I been out?”

“Long enough to scare the hell out of your partner,” Banks informed him. “Do you remember what year it is?”

Sandburg indulged their alternating assessment questions until both men were satisfied that their injured companion was lucid and oriented.

“Probably just a concussion, but we need to keep an eye on you,” Jim diagnosed him. “You know the drill by now, so when I wake you up every few hours, don’t bite my head off.”

“Wait a minute.” Blair struggled up, propping himself up on his elbow and biting back a groan as the throbbing in his head intensified. “We’re staying here? Is the truck totaled?”

“It’s not totaled, but it’s going to need some work,” Ellison told him. “And even if it didn’t, I’m not sure it would make it back up this ravine.”

“Then how are we going to get out of here?”

“Don’t worry about it, Chief,” the sentinel soothed him. “We’ve got plenty of supplies so we’re fine for now. You just need to get some rest, and tomorrow we’ll start figuring out a plan, ok? Here, have a drink of water.”

Blair tried a tiny sip and immediately his stomach rolled in protest. He attempted to hand the canteen back to his friend, but Jim wouldn’t take it, insisting he had to drink more.

“Jim, I feel sick...” Sandburg argued weakly.

“I know, buddy, but that gash on your head bled a lot and you need some fluids. Just try a little more, ok?”

Obediently, Blair had another sip and Ellison let him off the hook. The younger man collapsed to the ground, realizing for the first time that he was lying on his sleeping bag. He curled up on his side, and this time he couldn’t repress a groan as his head pounded and his stomach cramped. But Jim sat beside him, rubbing a gentle hand up and down his back until he finally relaxed.

“He asleep?”

“Yeah,” the sentinel answered softly. He looked down on his friend for a moment and then got to his feet, somewhat stiffly. “He makes a good point, though. How are we going to get out of here?”

“We’re going to have to walk,” Simon concluded matter of factly. “We’re only about eight miles from where we should have turned off.”

“And it’s about fifteen miles from there to the nearest town,” Jim reminded him.

“Well, we don’t have much of a choice since the radio in the truck is smashed,” Banks pointed out. “Once Sandburg is up to it, we’re just going to have to start hiking. Maybe we’ll get lucky and run into the forest service or we’ll get back in cell range before we have to go that far.”

“That’s what worries me, Simon,” Ellison admitted, running his hand nervously over the back of his neck. “What if Sandburg isn’t up to it? I mean, he’s been unconscious for hours and what if this is something more than just a bad concussion? We’re helpless out here without a way to get him to a doctor.”

“Don’t borrow trouble, Jim,” Banks advised him sternly. “The kid’s tough and he’s ok for now. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it when and if it happens. Now come on and help me finish setting up camp.”

Unconvinced, but keeping his concerns to himself, the sentinel obligingly bent down to pick up one of the bags they had salvaged from the battered truck. He straightened with a loud grunt, getting a quizzical look from his captain.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah,” Ellison said with a faint grin. “But I’m definitely going to be feeling this in the morning.”

Blair was awakened, but not by the persistent shaking of one of his companions demanding to see his pupils and asking cognitive questions. Rather he was pulled from slumber by an ominous sound, and a feeling that something very wrong was happening. He sat up partway, blinking sleepily and then becoming more awake as he realized the two sleeping bags on the other side of the fire were unoccupied. Straining his eyes, he could barely make out two dark shapes huddled just outside the ring of light from the flagging fire.

“Jim?” he called out. “Simon? What’s going on?”

After a minute, Banks approached him, limping badly as he favored his right leg and somewhat awkwardly lowering himself down to the ground next to the younger man.

“How are you feeling, Blair?”

“I’m ok. What’s happening?”

“How’s your head?”

“It’s all right, Simon,” Blair snapped in annoyance, brushing the captain’s hand away as he tried to check the bandage. And he was telling the truth. The agony in his skull had faded into a dull throb, one that he hardly noticed as a chilling fear began to settle in the pit of his stomach. Banks never called him by his first name. Which meant he was about to be the bearer of some really bad news. “What’s wrong with Jim?”

Simon hesitated for a second, looking away and sighing before he turned back to meet the anthropologist’s demanding gaze.

“He’s throwing up blood,” Banks told him softly. “He hit the steering wheel when the truck went over and it looks like he’s got some internal bleeding as a result.”

“Internal bleeding?” Blair echoed, his eyes going wide. “Oh, shit, Simon. What are we going to do?”

Saved from giving an answer he didn’t have by Jim calling out his name, Banks just patted Sandburg on the shoulder and got up painfully to make his way back over to his friend. Blair sat there, frozen in shock, listening to muttered whispers, retching noises, and more whispers. Finally, the pair came back to the fire, the sentinel leaning heavily on his captain. Sandburg came to his senses and bolted up, hurrying over to help ease the big detective down to his sleeping bag.

“Jim, man...” Words failed the perpetually eloquent scholar. “You’re gonna be ok.”

The sentinel smiled up at his guide, but it was the patronizing sort, like a parent indulging a child’s fairytale.

“Simon, this is crazy,” Blair protested. He spared a glance over his shoulder at his partner, resting twenty feet away. It was pointless to lower his voice, but he did so anyway. “You can hardly walk.”

“One of us has to go for help, Sandburg,” the captain insisted.

“Exactly. So why not the one with two good legs?”

“Because you’re recovering from a head injury,” Banks hissed. “If my knee gives out I can still crawl but if you...” He abruptly censored himself, but the anthropologist knew what he was thinking. Jim might not be the only one bleeding internally and if he collapsed out in the middle of nowhere then they’d both be doomed. “Besides,” Simon continued, gentling his tone. “He needs you.” They needed each other. And though he didn’t say it, the captain knew this could be the last chance the two had to put things right between them.

“Ok,” Blair conceded wearily, giving a hand to Simon as he struggled into a heavy backpack. “Just... hurry, all right?”

“I’ll gimp along as fast as I can,” Banks promised wryly. He quickly grew serious, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Keep his legs elevated and keep him warm.”

“Simon.” Earnest blue eyes gazed up at the tall captain, seeking the truth. “How bad is it? I mean, what are his chances of hanging on until we can get him out of here?”

“Try and keep him awake.” The dark gaze was averted, but not before Blair saw the hopelessness in his friend’s eyes.

“All right,” he answered, trying to keep the quiver from his voice. “Be safe, Simon.”

“You, too.”

Banks waved at the prone form of his friend behind them and got a hand flutter in return. Then he set off, using a hefty stick as a crutch. Blair watched him as he struggled up the steep ravine, and only after he crested the top and disappeared from sight did the anthropologist return to his partner.

“He’ll make it,” Sandburg said with a confidence he didn’t feel. “We’ll have you out of here before you know it, Jim.”

“Well, we’ve still got some time to kill, so have a seat, Chief. I want to talk to you about something.”

“About what?” Blair asked guardedly as he dropped down beside his friend.

“What happened with Alex.”

“Jim, if this is some deathbed confession then I don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s not a deathbed confession,” Ellison assured him. “It’s something that I should have told you long before now.”

“What?”

“I still don’t understand what happened to me,” the sentinel sighed. “That whole period is mostly a blur now. I was running on pure instinct and I couldn’t control myself. But that’s no excuse.” He glanced over at his younger friend, his steely blue eyes softening. “I know I hurt you, Chief, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too, for a lot of things,” Blair responded, picking up a pine needle from the ground and absently breaking it into tiny pieces. “But mostly I’m sorry that I lost your trust. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do, Jim, and I swear I’ll do whatever I have to in order to earn it back.”

“You tried to tell me about Alex, but I wasn’t hearing much at the time,” Jim acknowledged. “We both made mistakes that almost allowed her to destroy both of us. When I saw her that day at your office, I had another vision of the spotted jaguar. And just a feeling of... foreboding, I guess. Maybe if I’d told you about that instead of pushing you away, none of the rest would’ve happened.”

“We can ‘could have’ and ‘would have’ forever, Jim,” Blair said thoughtfully after a few minutes. “But none of that changes the fact that what happened did happen. We can’t go back and change it. All we can do is just deal with it and move on and learn from our mistakes so it doesn’t happen again” He cleared his throat softly and held his partner’s gaze. “That is, if you still want to move on.”

“Do you?”

“I think you know where I stand,” Sandburg said quietly, but firmly. “But what about you, Jim? You told me you didn’t want to go on, remember? That you couldn’t get past it.”

“Yeah, well, that was before.”

“Before I died and you felt guilty?”

“That’s a low blow, Chief,” Ellison growled.

“The truth hurts, Jim.” Blair sighed and ran a hand through his tangled hair, pushing the curls back from his face. “Look, the last thing I want to do right now is fight with you. But be honest with me, man. If this is coming from a guilt trip, it’s never going to work because that will just breed resentment in the end. If you really want to go on with the project like we’ve been doing, then you have to be able to get past everything. You have to forgive me, Jim. Can you do that?”

“Already done, Chief. Do you forgive me?”

“Well, for the Alex thing, yeah. But for dumping the truck down a ravine in the middle of no man’s land, well, that’s going to take some more work. And presents. Lots of presents.”

“Sandburg, you’re pushing it.”

Blair grinned, basking in the glow of having been forgiven and not even realizing that his query as to whether the sentinel wanted to move on had gone unanswered.

“Jim.” Blair shook the sentinel’s shoulder gently. “Come on, man, wake up.”

“What’s going on?” Ellison asked sleepily.

“Listen, I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to leave you alone for a little bit. We’re out of water and I have to go get some more, ok?”

The detective scrubbed a hand weakly over his face as he fully awakened.

“Where are you going to go?”

“I don’t know,” Sandburg shrugged. “Back to that stream that intersected the road, I guess.”

“That’s a two mile hike, one way.”

“You got a better idea?”

The sentinel closed his eyes and frowned in concentration. Realizing what he was doing, the anthropologist rested a hand on his shoulder to ground him. After a moment, Ellison relaxed and opened his eyes.

“Go west. It’s a straight shot, about a quarter mile. There’s a spring coming up.”

“Ok, thanks.” Blair was grateful for the shorter trip, because it meant less time he’d have to be away from his friend. He was loathe to leave at all, since Jim’s condition had deteriorated over the past few hours. He’d grown restless and pale, unable to even sit up without a severe dizzy spell bordering on fainting. And although he wouldn’t vocalize it, Sandburg could tell from the lines in his face that he was in pain. But there was no telling when help would arrive, and Blair didn’t want to leave him without water, either. So he had no choice but to leave his partner alone. “You going to be all right while I’m gone?”

“Yeah,” Ellison told him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I won’t be long.”

Blair started to get to his feet but Jim reached out and clasped his wrist.

“Chief, hang on a second. Before you go I have to tell you something. I want you to have the loft...”

“Jim, stop it,” Sandburg ordered brusquely, pulling his arm free. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Shut up and listen to me.” The patented Ellison bellow was lacking strength, but it still had enough force behind it to command attention. “All the paperwork for the loft and my assets is in a box in my closet. Nothing’s in your name, but I want you to call my dad and his lawyers will take care of it, all right? Tell him I said everything should go to you.”

“Jim, don’t you want it to go to your family?”

“You are my family,” the sentinel murmured fondly as he gazed up at his guide. “Every bit as much as my dad and Stephen. They don’t want my stuff. I want you to have it.”

“I don’t want it, either,” Blair protested hotly. He turned away, not wanting his friend to see the beginnings of tears glistening in his eyes. “I don’t want the loft, Jim. Not if you aren’t there. And I don’t want you talking like this anymore, all right? Simon left hours ago, and he’ll be back soon with help. You’re going to be fine, so stop being so morbid.”

“I’m not being morbid, Chief, I’m trying to be realistic.”

“Yeah, well, reality sucks!” Blair turned back around and fixed his earnest blue eyes on his friend. “There’s got to be something else we can do here.”

“There’s no way to stop internal bleeding, at least not from the outside,” Jim reminded him. He studied his younger friend, seeing how hard the situation was on him and feeling a deep sadness that he was being forced to endure it. “But, hey, I’m not checking out yet, so why don’t you go get that water? I could use a drink.”

Sandburg nodded and got up, reluctantly gathering up the canteens and whatever other vessels he could find that would transport water. But the sooner he got going the sooner he’d be back, so he promised his partner he’d hurry and then set off west.

“Hey, Chief!”

“What?” Blair turned around to look at his friend.

“Do me a favor and try not to get lost, will ya?”

“Smart ass.”

When Blair returned to the site of the accident, he was working on the beginnings of a throbbing headache. But it wasn’t from the blow he’d suffered in the wreck, rather it was from frantically racking his brain for a solution to his very urgent problem. He wanted to smack Jim for being so closemouthed about what had happened that day at the fountain with Incacha and the wolf and the jaguar, for that information would have been rather useful to the anthropologist at that point. But, he reasoned that if Jim had known how he’d pulled off the miracle of restoring life to the dead and was able to work it on himself, he’d have already done so, long before now. Which didn’t leave them with a whole lot of options.

Checking on his friend, Sandburg found him worse. Jim was cold and clammy and he was breathing rapidly, and Blair’s fear grew as he was unable to awaken him for several minutes. When Ellison finally did start to come around, he was confused and disoriented. The younger man coaxed some water into him, and that seemed to perk him up slightly. At least his awareness returned, but it was obvious the pain was getting worse. Blair tucked the sleeping bag carefully around him, because keeping his friend warm was the only thing he could do.

“Chief, why don’t you take a walk?” Jim blurted out suddenly.

“Are you delirious?” Sandburg asked him incredulously.

“No. I think you should go get some air. You know, just take a walk or something.”

“Jim, what are you talking about? I just got back from...” Blair trailed off as it dawned on him what his friend was doing. “Oh, God. This is it, isn’t it? You think this is it and you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“Shock’s starting to set in,” the sentinel said softly. “And it won’t be long after that. So just go, all right? I don’t want you to have to watch.”

“No, it’s not all right!” Sandburg exclaimed. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Chief, come on. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t let this be your last memory of me.”

“Jim, I’m not going to leave you alone,” Blair told him, conviction blazing from his eyes. “And you must not have a very high opinion of me if you think I’d abandon you now.”

“It’s not that,” Ellison sighed. “I just wanted to spare you...”

“I know,” Sandburg whispered. “But we’ve seen each other through some tough times, and this one’s no different. I’m going to face it with you. Whatever happens, you’re not going to go through it alone, all right?”

“All right,” Jim relented, giving his friend a half smile. “I was trying to be noble, but I have to say, the selfish side of me is glad you didn’t go for it. Dying is bad enough, but I really don’t want to die alone.”

“Jim, you really think your time is up, man?”

“Yeah, Chief. Unfortunately I do.”

“So I guess if we had a Hail Mary play, this would be the time to whip it out?”

“Sandburg, what are you getting at?”

“I had an idea,” Blair began slowly. “I was saving it as a last resort.”

“Well, I think I can safely say we’ve come to that. Lay it on me.”

“I think I know how we can stop the bleeding. Or at least slow it down enough to buy us some time.”

“I’m listening,” the sentinel prodded him when he hesitated.

“We put you into a zone out,” Blair explained.

“And how is that supposed to help?”

“Think of it as a sort of hibernation,” Sandburg continued, growing more animated as he always did when he theorized. “When animals hibernate, they slow down their metabolisms in order to survive the winter without food, right? This is the same sort of thing. We slow down your metabolism, in essence, your temperature and respiration and heart beat, and the bleeding slows down, too. Maybe even stops.”

“Hold on there, Darwin,” Jim interrupted him. “I thought you always considered zoning to be a bad thing. You said if I was in one too long, I could potentially die.”

“That’s why I was saving it as a last resort,” Blair told him sadly. “At this point, what have you got to lose?” He took a deep breath as his friend considered the sobering prospect. “Look, Jim, this is incredibly risky. We’ve never really studied the zone in any sort of controlled situation, and right now I’m wishing like hell that we had. This is just a hypothesis and I have no idea if it will work or not. I have no idea what will happen. But at the very least, you know, you’ll get a break from the pain. And the waiting. It might be a more peaceful way to...” Not able to say the words aloud, Sandburg cleared his throat. “But it’s up to you. I’ll understand if you don’t want to try it.”

“Let’s do it,” Ellison declared, after only a second of hesitation.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Chief.” Jim met his gaze and held it firmly. “I trust you.”

Blair had to look away, pulling in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Jim, before we do this, I have to tell you something. What you said before, you know, it goes for me, too. You’re my family, in some ways even more than Naomi.”

“I thought you didn’t want to do the deathbed confessions,” Ellison teased him.

“I don’t. I just want you to know that, regardless.”

“Well, I’ve got one for you, too. I never would have survived this sentinel thing without you, Blair. Thanks for guiding me through it, and thanks for being a great friend to me, even when I thought I didn’t want or need one.”

“You were my holy grail, Jim,” Sandburg whispered, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “And I never thought that would get eclipsed on a personal level. But it did, so screw the project. You’re my friend and I love you and I am NOT going to let you go, all right? So you have to make it through this. You will make it through, I promise. Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. How do you want to do this?”

“It’s quiet enough out here that I don’t think sound is going to disturb you, so we’ll leave your hearing at normal. I’ll use that to bring you out of it when it’s time. We’ll turn up your sense of smell. There’s pine all over the place and that ought to be fragrant enough for you to overload on. Everything else we turn down.”

“I’m in your hands, Chief. Let’s go.”

Blair guided his friend into controlling his breathing and entering a state of relaxation, then instructed him on dialing down his senses of sight, taste and touch. He paused, grateful when the lines of stress and pain eased a little on Jim’s face. Then he had Ellison dial up his sense of smell and concentrate on the fragrant pine boughs he placed all around his head.

And by the time night came to the forest, the sentinel was in a deep zone state.

Blair picked his head up from where it was resting on Jim’s chest. The sentinel’s pulse had become so slow and faint, feeling the sporadic, shallow breaths was the only way Sandburg knew his friend was even still alive. But a noise was distracting him, and as it grew louder he began to allow himself a tiny spark of hope. A helicopter. Coming closer, and setting down not far from where they were.

Getting to his feet, the anthropologist stoked the fire and threw a few more branches on the flames, creating more heat and also a beacon. He didn’t have sentinel hearing, but he didn’t need it. The calvary was coming, of that he was sure.

“Hold on, Jim,” he whispered as he sat back down next to his friend. “Just a little bit longer.”

They didn’t have long to wait before a set of headlights came creeping through the trees, a bright spotlight sweeping down the ravine and blinding Blair as it washed over him.

“Sandburg!”

“Yeah, Simon,” he called back, shading his eyes with his hand. “Get a stretcher down here, hurry!”

A team of medical personal began sliding down the steep ravine, encumbered by their heavy equipment but making it to the bottom without incident. Simon followed more slowly, even more encumbered by his injured knee. Blair met him halfway to help him down as the EMTs began working on Jim.

“How’s he doing?” Banks asked.

“He’s still alive but I sure am glad you got here when you did,” Sandburg replied, feeling almost giddy with relief that his anxious vigil was over and that Jim was finally going to get the care he so desperately needed.

“We’ve got a chopper in a clearing about a mile down the road,” Simon informed him. “They’re going to air lift him back to Cascade.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” the anthropologist demanded. “Let’s take this show on the road.”

But the EMTs didn’t seem inclined to go, working feverishly over the prone man and tossing a lot of ominous sounding jargon back and forth. A fact that infuriated the exhausted guide.

“Come on, we need to get him to the hospital,” Blair insisted. “Can’t you do that on the way?”

“We have to stabilize him first,” one of the medics explained. “He’s in deep shock and if we move him now, we’ll kill him.”

“He’s going to die if you don’t move him,” Sandburg protested, grabbing one of the men by the shoulder.

“Sir, please,” the EMT snapped at him. “I know you’re worried about your friend but you have to stand back now and let us do our job.” He bent over Ellison and examined the gage on the cuff around his arm before glancing back at his partner. “I’m not getting a reading.”

“You don’t understand...”

“Sandburg, calm down!” Banks wrapped his arms around the younger man, forcibly restraining him. “They know what’s best for Jim. Let them work.”

“No, Simon!” Blair wriggled out of his grasp, but turned to face him, a look of near-hysteria in his eyes. “I know what’s best for Jim!” He grabbed the tall man’s shirt front in a desperate grip and lowered his voice. “He’s not in shock. Please, Simon, you have to believe me. Jim is not in shock but we have to get him to the hospital now!”

The astute captain saw the unspoken message in the frantic man’s eyes. He didn’t know what was going on, and he didn’t really want to as it was obviously some weird sentinel thing out of the Sandburg Zone. But he trusted the kid wholly in this area that was so foreign to him, and after a moment he went and had a word with the medics. Banks had no technical authority over them, but when he went into full authoritative mode people tended to listen. The EMT’s were no exception, and they carefully loaded Jim onto a stretcher and began the difficult process of getting him up the ravine.

Simon climbed into the front of the waiting vehicle but Blair was not about to let himself be separated from Jim and squeezed into the cramped back before the medics had a chance to argue. He let them go about their jobs, starting IVs and administering oxygen and generally ignoring him as they worked on saving a man’s life. Which was fine with Sandburg, as he had his own job to do. Leaning in close to his friend’s ear, Blair began to whisper. Urging him to latch on to the sound of his voice and let it lead him back. But he got no response, and the whisperings became more urgent and pleading. Still nothing, and the anthropologist began to panic. What if he was wrong? What if Jim really was in shock and near death from his injury? Or what if he’d zoned for too long and there was no coming back?

“Damn it, Jim,” Blair said hoarsely. “Listen to me. Follow my voice and come back online. You have to hear me.”

“I’m not getting a pulse,” one of the EMT’s announced, pushing on Sandburg slightly to move him out of the way.

“Jim, don’t you leave me!” Blair cried, unashamed of the tears that had started to fall from his eyes. “Damn it, Jim! WAKE UP!”

“Wait, I’ve got something,” the EMT corrected himself. “It’s slow, but it’s there.”

“His pressure’s rising,” the other medic confirmed.

Blair collapsed in a heap in the corner of the vehicle, curling in on himself and shaking with relief.

“Hey. Welcome back.”

Jim focused his eyes on the man next to his bed. Sandburg was rumpled and haggard and needed a shave, but he was still a welcome sight.

“First things first, man,” Blair said softly as he saw the grimace of pain creep over his friend’s face. “Let’s get your dials under control.”

Sandburg walked him through each of his senses, regulating his settings to their normal levels.

“The anesthesia probably put you out of whack,” he speculated once the sentinel had reclaimed his control. “They operated on you last night. Well, early this morning, really. They had to take out a little piece of your spleen, but you’re going to be fine.”

“And how’re you doing?” Jim croaked out, thinking his partner looked a little worse for wear.

“I’m ok,” Sandburg shrugged as he poured a little water into a cup from the pitcher on the bedside table and held it out so his friend could sip it through a bendy straw. “They checked out my head and said I just had a mild concussion. Nothing to worry about.”

“Then why do you look as bad as I feel?” Ellison pressed, his voice a little stronger as the water soothed his parched throat.

“Just tired.” Blair grinned as he flopped down in the chair next to the bed. “You got to sleep through the whole thing, remember? I’m the one who did all the work.”

“Yeah, well now that it’s over you should go home and get some sleep,” Jim advised him.

“I will in a minute. Oh, Simon checked out fine, too. Just some deep bruising to his knee. He wanted to give you a little time, but he’ll be in tomorrow. You sure you’re feeling ok? We could turn your pain dial down a little more...”

“No, it’s bearable,” the sentinel assured him. “So I guess it worked, huh? The zoning.”

“Yeah, it worked this time,” Blair admitted. “But we are never doing that again. I almost couldn’t bring you out of it and you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry about that,” Jim chuckled. “But it did work. You saved my life, Chief.”

“Well, I owed you one,” Sandburg yawned. “But if you still feel beholden, there is something you could do for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me the truth about why we crashed.”

“I don’t know what you’re...”

“I saw you, Jim,” Blair accused him. “That wasn’t any kind of spike or overstimulation. You saw something and you swerved to avoid it. You gonna tell me what it was?”

“I don’t remember,” Ellison said slowly. “My head’s still kind of fuzzy. Hey, do you think I could have some more water? Maybe some fresh stuff that doesn’t taste like plastic?”

Sandburg studied his friend for a moment, knowing he was being lied to but finally deciding not to press the issue.

“Sure,” he agreed affably, getting to his feet and scooping up the pitcher. “I’ll be right back.”

As his friend went down to the nurse’s station to fulfill his request, Jim closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his brow as he started to relive the vision he’d seen. The one that had caused him to wreck the truck, and the one he couldn’t tell his partner about. Shooting a wolf and watching it morph into Blair...

There were no spotted jaguars and no paranoid feelings this time. It had nothing to do with Alex or any other sentinel. But it seemed like Blair was still in danger. From what, he didn’t know. Although he was starting to fear it was from himself.

Regardless, it was obviously time to start making some changes. He and Blair had become too close. The incident at the fountain had proven that. It was time to start distancing himself. Encouraging the kid to start spending more time at Rainier and easing him back into his academic life. It was where he belonged and where he was safe. And Blair was bound to realize that sooner or later. His leaving was inevitable. Once he got his doctorate, or once he found another sentinel, maybe one who wasn’t so reluctant to explore the intricacies and mysteries of his gift. Or even for something as mundane as settling down with a wife and a bunch of rugrats. Eventually, their partnership would dissolve. And Jim decided it was time to start severing the ties. It would make their parting easier, for both of them.

Blair returned with a sloshing pitcher of fresh ice water and helped Jim drink, then he set the cup aside and casually arranged his partner’s covers as he chatted on about the attractiveness of the nurse on duty. Ellison closed his eyes and bit back a smile, finding a great deal of comfort in his friend’s mere presence. Sandburg was always there when he needed him. And that would never change, he promised himself. They would always be there for each other in times of need. He just wanted to decrease the level of that need, so they weren’t so dependent on each other. But in the meantime, he was infinitely glad Blair was there.

Tuning out everything else, the sentinel relaxed and let the familiar, reassuring heartbeat of his guide lead him to peaceful sleep.

Finis

Go on to the Epilogue to this story: Back to How It Used to Be

The Sandburg Zone

Cascade Library