You Stand By Me

Author’s Note: This story intends no copyright infringement on characters owned by Paramount/Pet Fly. No sentinels or guides were harmed during the writing of this story, however one careless truck driver was made to pay dearly for his transgressions. Comments are always welcome.

Author's Note 2: Dedicated with all my heart and soul to my dear Suzanne, who inspired this story and who inspires me daily in all things. I love you, my soul sister!

There were duties she needed to attend to, other patients to see, and she knew she was spending too much time with the young man in 205. But there was just something in those big blue eyes that tugged at the kind nurse’s heart. Such an earnestly sad loneliness that reminded her of the time when her son had been five and his puppy had run off. The patient had that same look, like he had lost his best friend without ever knowing that such a terrible thing was capable of happening. It brought out a maternal swell inside her and she desperately wanted to do something, anything, to comfort him. Since he never asked for anything, the best she could do was try to give him back what he had lost. So under the pretense of checking his monitors, she slipped back into his room for the third time that hour.

“Can I get you anything, sweetie?”

“No, thank you.” He had been staring blankly out the window, but he turned his head and gave her a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to call someone for you?” she pressed gently. “Someone in your family? Or a friend?”

He flinched slightly at the word “friend”. It was barely discernable, but she saw it.

“No,” he murmured with a slight shake of his head. “My mother’s out of the country and... I don’t have any friends around here.”

“You could call someone back home,” she went on. “I’m sure somebody’s worried about you.”

“Maybe,” he whispered, turning his head back to the window.

“Well, I went down to the gift shop and I got this for you,” the nurse told him gently. “Just in case you change your mind.” She took something out of her pocket and slid it onto the tray table beside his bed. “If you need anything, just call me, all right?”

She patted him softly on the arm and turned to go, pausing to check on the sleeping patient in the next bed before she left the room and went back to work. Curious, he slid the tray closer to the bed to see what she had left, his fingers lightly brushing over the slick surface of the calling card.

Blair tapped the card absently against the top of the table. He’d been doing so for the past forty-five minutes, unaware of the noise as he was deeply lost in thought, but fortunately his roommate was well medicated and never stirred on the other side of the curtain divider. He knew he needed to call Jim, but he was afraid to. The strange thing was, he didn’t know why.

They hadn’t parted on bad terms. Jim hadn’t been happy with his decision to turn down the job offer with the police department, but he was mostly understanding and told him that he needed to do what was best for him. And that wasn’t being a cop. Blair couldn’t deny that he had a flair, and even a passion for certain aspects of the job. But he was analytical by nature, which worked well during investigations but was a liability during the more dangerous situations of apprehensions and arrests. While he’d proven himself to be resourceful and a quick thinker, he also knew that his penchant for assessment could cause him to hesitate at times when a split second reaction was needed. He also wasn’t comfortable with the harder side of the job, intimidating skells and using deadly physical force if need be. It was a responsibility he didn’t want, and a hang up that was likely to get him or his partner killed. And deep down, Jim knew that.

What Blair didn’t tell him was that if he’d been able to just pocket the badge and pick up with the MCU, he probably would have done it. Things could have carried on as they always had with he and Jim as a team, only this time he’d be getting paid for it. They worked well together and made up for each other’s weaknesses, and Blair could have continued on with what he was good at while allowing Jim to do the same. But the truth was, he was tired and he just didn’t have the energy or the desire to start over at the academy and have to compete with kids five and even ten years younger than he was. Not to mention the years he’d have to endure in the bag as a regular cop before he could even hope to be promoted to detective where he could work with Jim. It just wasn’t worth it.

So he’d answered the question of what he didn’t want to do, but that still left the question of what was next for him. Academics had been his entire life, and he’d never even considered the possibility of not being able to do something anthropological. But that was no longer an option. He didn’t regret tanking his own career to save Jim’s, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. But that didn’t mean it didn’t leave him somewhat depressed over the process of losing everything he’d spent his life working for and everything he’d ever dreamed about. Jim tried to help, but although they had made up and tried to go on, things were still weird between them. Too much had been left unsaid, and too much unresolved tension still existed for them to just pick up and carry on like none of the anger and the betrayals and the sacrifices and the deep hurt had ever happened. It got to the point where the loft became claustrophobic for Blair, and though he loved Jim dearly, there were times when he couldn’t bear to look at him.

James Ellison thrived on order, and he didn’t deal well with chaos in his personal life. His desire to both help his friend and restore a sense of normalcy in his own life led to him trying to take charge of the situation, to the point where he became controlling. Blair resented being told what to do all the time, and he finally lashed out at his roommate, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he was not a child in need of monitoring or supervision. Jim predictably grew defensive and Blair received the silent treatment for several days after the fight. It eventually blew over, but Blair decided that the best thing for both of them was for him to clear out for awhile. After all that had happened they needed a break from each other to preserve what was left of their friendship, and Blair needed a little space and time to clear his head and try and figure out what direction should come next in his life. So he packed up a few things in his Volvo and left to go, as Naomi would say, find himself. And Jim let him leave, his clenched jaw saying what his voice could not.

That was three months ago. He hadn’t planned on being gone so long, but the time just seemed to slip away unnoticed. His first stop was Big Sur, at the urging of his mother. He spent a few days with her, “cleansing his soul”, and then a few more on his own after she’d met a group of people at one of the hot springs and decided to return to England with them to experience their loving commune firsthand. Then he made his way up to Oregon and decided to look up an ex-girlfriend. They’d had a great relationship, one he’d thought actually had potential, but after she had gotten her master’s degree in wildlife biology from Rainier she’d taken a job out of state and things had fizzled out between them. But they’d parted amicably and she had received his spontaneous visit with fond affection. He spent a few days helping her take water samples and browse surveys, and eagerly donned a pair of waders and grabbed a net as she went out electroshocking a stream for a species analysis. They reconnected so well that she put in for a small vacation so that they could spend a few days hiking in the Cascade Mountains. She was a welcome diversion and a much needed distraction, and by the time he finally bid her a reluctant farewell, Blair was no closer to any major life decisions but he was definitely more at peace with himself.

He met up with his uncle and took a run on his rig, for old time’s sake, which led him to briefly consider a truck driving career. After all, he’d done it once. He’d done a lot of things once. Working many different jobs and acquiring many different skills, all of which should have afforded him many options, but they didn’t. He wasn’t passionate about any of them. They had all been a means to an end, a way to get him ever closer to his ultimate goal. The thing he was passionate about. Anthropology, and finding a real, live sentinel. He had been so close, but it had slipped through his fingers and now it was time to let it go. But that didn’t mean he had to replace it with just anything. He couldn’t go from living his dream to simply existing, unfulfilled and spending his life toiling to make a dreary living and always longing for something more. No, he had to find something else that ignited his passion if he ever expected to recapture a measure of happiness.

Blair stopped off in Tacoma to see some friends, and from there he decided to go up to Vancouver to visit one of his old professors who had moved there after his retirement. The man had been one of his mentors when he’d arrived at Rainier, a wide eyed, slightly overwhelmed sixteen year old who was essentially clueless but trying to act like he knew it all. Jack Brown had encouraged him in his interests, telling him that if “you find something you love, you’ll never work a day in your life.” Blair took those words to heart, and now that he was not so wide eyed, but still a slightly overwhelmed thirty year old who was essentially clueless but trying to act like he knew it all, he had a desire to go and see the man who had helped him find direction all those years ago. Maybe Jack still had a nugget or two of wisdom tucked up his sleeve. It was worth a try.

But as he left Tacoma, the pain had started. At first Blair wrote it off as anxiety. Because on his way to Vancouver he knew he was going to have to stop off in Cascade, and seeing Jim was not a visit he was particularly looking forward to. Every week or two he had made sure to send a postcard to his sentinel, letting him know generally where he was and that he was ok. And he’d checked in with Simon on a regular basis to get updates on how his friend was faring. But he hadn’t talked to Jim directly since he left, although he’d held his cell phone in his hands many times, his finger resting over the send button that would connect him to the loft. Then he’d always ended up shutting the phone and tucking it back into his pocket, never quite able to make that call. And things stayed silent from Jim’s end as well, to his conflicting relief and disappointment. But the avoidance was soon to be over, because he couldn’t very well pass through the city without at least saying hello and giving his friend a quick assessment. He’d given Simon a crash course on Guide 101 and the captain had sworn to him to look out for Ellison, but Blair knew he needed to check up on the sentinel and see for himself that he had his senses under control. At the very least he owed him that much, although for the life of him he couldn’t understand why the prospect of it was making him so nervous.

The miles passed by and the mild discomfort progressed to an uncomfortable stomach ache. Blair began to wonder if maybe he hadn’t picked up a bug or somehow gotten a touch of food poisoning. But as he hit Seattle the pain grew sharper and more focused, and he knew he needed to stop and get himself checked out. It was the sensible thing to do, but it also was a stalling tactic, delaying his reunion with his former partner. And while he had never been one to procrastinate unpleasantness, preferring to just dive in and get it all over with, now he leapt at the chance to put the visit off another day or so.

Or longer, as he soon found himself admitted to the hospital. He resigned himself to being alone, telling the medical staff that he didn’t need anyone contacted. They reacted with indifference, all except the motherly nurse who had seemingly developed some sort of fondness for him. She had deep brown eyes that appeared to look right through him down to his naked soul, reading the hurt that was there without knowing how or why it had come to be. And those brown eyes spoke to him, comforting him, chastising him, and counseling him. Without ever saying a word, she somehow managed to convince him to make the call that needed to be made, even though he dreaded doing so.

Blair reached over to the small table next to his bed and made a grab for the phone, wincing and groaning softly at the pain the small movement caused. He set the phone on the tray table and put on his glasses before dialing the number on the calling card and following the prerecorded instructions. But he only got halfway through entering the number for the loft before he dropped the receiver back onto the cradle, not having any idea what to say.

Three months he’d been gone. And what had he accomplished? He hadn’t “found himself”. And he hadn’t hit upon a new direction in life. He hadn’t worked through any of his problems, and his long absence certainly hadn’t done anything toward improving his relationship with Jim. More likely it had pissed the sentinel off, for whatever reason his paranoid territoriality had imagined. All he had done in three month’s time was aimlessly wander the west coast, languishing instead of progressing. Maybe he’d briefly reconnected with a few distant friends, but what did that matter if he’d ended up alienating the close ones he’d left behind?

Blair sighed and picked up the receiver again. This time he entered the entire number for the loft, willing his heart to stop hammering in his chest as the phone began to ring.

“Please don’t be home,” he whispered to himself. It was a cop out, but it would be so much easier if he could just leave a message on the answering machine. “Don’t pick up.”

“Ellison.”

Blair tried to speak, but no words came out of his dry mouth.

“Hello?!” Impatience. A touch of irritation.

“Jim, it’s me,” he managed to get out.

“Sandburg?” Surprise. A long stunned pause. “Where are you?”

“Seattle.”

“Is everything ok?”

“More or less,” Blair replied evasively. “But first I need to know how you are doing. Any problems with your senses? Do you still have a handle on your control?”

“More or less,” Jim echoed. But the answer was less snide and more fond teasing and the sentinel’s voice took on a definite warmth. “It’s good to hear from you, Chief. What are you doing in Seattle?”

“Well,” Sandburg hedged. “I don’t really have any dinner plans, but I’m probably looking at an appendectomy in the morning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t freak out, Jim,” Blair told him. “It’s not a big deal. I’m in the hospital...”

“And you don’t consider that a big deal?”

“No, I don’t. Look, the doctor thinks I have appendicitis. They started me on antibiotics and there’s a chance it might resolve on it’s own. If it doesn’t, I just need a little surgery to take it out. It’s beyond routine.”

“Do you want me to come down there?”

“No,” Blair replied softly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Chief, if you’re having surgery I don’t think that you...”

“But it’s not up to you, Jim,” Sandburg interrupted firmly. “And I’m telling you, I’ll be fine. I can manage this on my own, ok?”

“If that’s the way you want it.” The warmth was gone from his flat voice, but Blair had been expecting that.

“Listen to me, all right? I didn’t call you now to worry you or upset you. I just wanted to let you know what was going on. And I need to tell you something. Just in case.”

“What happened to ‘beyond routine’?”

“This isn’t some confession borne out of the fear that I might die on the operating table,” Blair continued patiently. “I should have said this before I left.”

“Said what, exactly?”

“Jim, the past three years with you...” Blair trailed off, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “There’s a lot of things I’d do differently if I had the chance to go back and do it again, but ultimately I don’t have any regrets. And you shouldn’t either, ok?” There was only silence on the other end of the phone, and he opened his eyes and frowned. “Jim, are you still there?”

“How can you say that?” The voice was ragged with emotion, almost unrecognizable from the sentinel’s normally neutral tone.

“Because it’s true,” Sandburg told him softly.

“You don’t regret sabotaging your entire career? BOTH your careers?”

“I did what I had to do,” Blair insisted. “Things were out of control and it was beyond you and me at that point. Other people were being affected. Megan and Simon almost died, and Zeller had to be stopped. That was more important than anything else. And no, I never wanted to denounce myself as a fraud and I wish there had been another way. But when all is said and done, it was worth the ride on the roller coaster with you. Being your partner... those were some of the best times of my life, Jim. And I could never wish that away, even knowing how it all would end. I know you feel guilty about what happened with my press conference, but don’t. You need to just try and put all this behind you and get on with your life.”

“Like you have?”

Blair couldn’t quite read the meaning behind the words, and he certainly didn’t know how to answer them. So after a long, hesitant pause he figured it was time to end the call, having said what he’d wanted to say.

“Jim, I have to go.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come down there?”

“No,” Blair assured him. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow and give you an update, ok? Bye.”

Without waiting for an answer, he hung up the phone. But he left it resting on the table for a long time, in case his sentinel happened to call him back. He never did.

Blair picked up the tv remote and clicked it on, flipping restlessly through the channels to distract himself and make the waiting more bearable. Throughout the mostly sleepless night he’d begun feeling worse, experiencing sharper pain and developing a fever, and as dawn broke he found himself half wishing he had taken Jim up on his offer and told him to come down. He’d had more blood drawn for tests, and an ultrasound that revealed an unmistakably enlarged appendix. So without further ado he had been prepped for surgery, and any minute now the orderlies would be coming to wheel him to the operating room.

He heard a sound in the doorway, and figuring it was time he clicked off the tv and threw the remote aside, steeling himself for what was coming. But it was not a white clad member of the medical personnel that stepped around the curtain, but rather an uncomfortable looking sentinel.

“Jim!” Blair exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you said not to come,” Ellison told him. “But you never do anything you’re told, so I figured why should I?”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Sandburg said earnestly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Obviously a side effect of the shot he had recently been given. But they appeared to be the right ones, as Jim grinned and relaxed.

“Where else would I be?” he murmured warmly. “Beyond routine or not, I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

“Thanks,” Blair whispered, his blue eyes a bit glassy but shining with affection. And more than a little relief. Despite his protests, he was still in the hospital, going under the knife, and having a friendly face there suddenly made that prospect a lot less frightening.

“Simon drove down with me,” Jim continued. “He’s out in the hall. They weren’t going to let me in at all, but I managed to talk a nurse into giving me a minute. She was stalling the gurney, but it sounds like they’re coming for you now.”

“Jim, I...” Blair trailed off, looking up at his friend, at a loss over how to quickly sum up everything he was feeling. Time ran out as the orderlies entered the room and approached the bed. Ellison stepped back and let them transfer his guide to the gurney, but when he was settled the sentinel moved back to him, leaning down to speak quietly in his ear.

“It’s ok, Chief. We’ll talk later. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Blair nodded, realizing it was for the best as the medication was kicking in and he was starting to feel extremely tired and a little loopy. He was wheeled out of the room and into the hall, where Simon’s face floated into his vision and a large, warm hand briefly clasped his shoulder. Blair heard him talking and he tried to respond, but he was having difficulty forming any words. Using the last of his energy, he lifted his head slightly as he was wheeled into the elevator, locking on to the calm blue eyes gazing back at him before the doors clicked shut.

The next thing Blair knew he was waking up in recovery, too groggy and confused to feel much discomfort. Jim’s name slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself and the nurse who had been sitting with him reassured him as she checked him over. His mind cleared enough for him to remember that he was in the hospital in Seattle having his appendix removed, a surgery the nurse said came off without a hitch. For a moment he wondered if he had dreamed the encounter with Jim or if he really had come down to be with him, but then the nurse told him that they would be moving him back to his room and he’d be able to see his friends. So it hadn’t been a dream. Jim really was there. The sentinel had answered in response to the unspoken plea he’d heard in his guide’s voice and had dropped everything to come to his side in his moment of need. No matter what weirdness cropped up between them, that simple fact never changed and Blair drew a measure of comfort from it.

As promised, he was wheeled back to his room and transferred to the narrow bed and Jim and Simon were there as soon as he was settled. He was grateful to see his friends but still suffering from the effects of the anesthesia and was finding it hard to keep his eyes open, let alone carry on a sensible conversation. Both men encouraged him to rest, and for the rest of the morning and early afternoon he drifted in and out of a hazy doze.

When Blair opened his eyes late that afternoon, he felt the pain in his abdomen much more acutely but his head wasn’t so foggy so he considered it a fair trade. Glancing around, he spied Banks sitting in the chair next to his bed watching tv.

“I didn’t know you were an Oprah fan, Simon,” he said softly, his voice raspy in his dry throat.

“Well you only have three channels, Sandburg,” the captain stated defensively. “The options are limited.” He got to his feet and moved closer, looking down at the young man warmly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Blair lied wearily. “Where’s Jim?”

“He just went down the hall to get some coffee,” Banks informed him. “He’ll be back in a second.”

“Listen, Simon,” Sandburg began, taking advantage of the moment he had alone with the captain. “I just want to let you know I appreciate you looking out for Jim these past couple months. And, you know, keeping us both apprised of each other.”

“Well, I never wanted to be a go between for the two of you but since you wouldn’t talk to each other I didn’t have a choice,” Simon snorted, his tone clearly indicating he would have liked to clunk both their heads together and knock the collective stubbornness out of them. “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t pick up the phone and call him. Or vice versa.”

“It’s... complicated,” Blair told him. The best answer he could give, for he didn’t really understand it himself. Not completely.

“Everything always is when the two of you are involved,” Banks said in exasperation.

“Well, we make life interesting,” the younger man countered with a faint grin.

“My life is interesting enough, Sandburg,” Simon lectured firmly, although his dark eyes were twinkling fondly. “I don’t need your dramatics to spice things up.”

“Yeah, spice is bad for his ulcer,” Jim chimed in as he stepped around the curtain with his hands full and overheard his captain’s words.

“I do not have an ulcer, thank you very much,” Banks retorted haughtily as he reached out and rescued one of the coffee cups that his detective was juggling.

“Then what’s with those pills you’re always popping?” Ellison continued, setting his own cup down along with a small plastic pitcher of ice water.

“Those are for heartburn, which I never had until the two of you started making my life miserable,” Simon informed him as he reclaimed the chair, popping the lid off his cup and sipping at the steaming brew.

“You know what they say. Misery loves company,” the sentinel reminded him with a grin as he poured a little of the ice water into a cup and topped it off with a bendy straw before handing it to his friend. “How are you feeling, Chief.”

“I’m ok,” Blair replied, taking the water and gratefully gulping it, letting the cold fluid soothe his dry throat. “Can I have a little more of that?”

“In a minute. See how that sits first,” Jim advised, perching himself on the edge of the bed since Simon had the only chair.

Blair nodded and relaxed back against his pillow, his eyes moving back and forth between his two friends as they continued to bicker. He was mostly quiet, adding his two cents when prompted but mostly content to just rest and enjoy their company, glad that Jim hadn’t listened to him and had decided to come down so he wouldn’t have to be alone.

As afternoon gave way to evening, the sentinel noticed his friend was starting to struggle to stay awake. He exchanged a glance with Simon, who nodded his understanding.

“Listen, Chief, I think we’re going to run out and grab something to eat and try to find a hotel room for the night. Do you mind if we bail on you for an hour or so?”

“No,” Blair murmured in relief. He knew that his friends wouldn’t mind if he caught a nap, but as they had come all the way from Cascade he still felt somewhat obligated to stay awake while they were there. “Go ahead. I’m just going to close my eyes for awhile, so take your time.”

“You do that,” Jim encouraged him, but his younger friend needed no encouragement. The blue eyes had already drooped shut. “We won’t be gone long.”

“I don’t think he heard you,” Simon pointed out wryly.

“Obviously.” The sentinel slid off the bed and stretched slightly. “Where do you want to eat?”

“Depends,” Banks told him. “Who’s buying?”

“My treat,” Jim offered generously, thinking he owed it to his friend for driving.

“In that case, let’s find a nice steakhouse,” Simon declared happily as he left the hospital room with long strides. Ellison rolled his eyes but agreeably followed, pausing to squeeze his sleeping friend’s knee gently on the way out.

Blair opened his eyes and focused blearily on the image of his sentinel sitting in the chair beside him.

“I thought you were going out to eat,” he accused his friend irritably.

“We did,” Jim told him. “We got back about half an hour ago. Simon’s outside making a few calls. Do you want anything? The nurse said you could try some juice and crackers if you’re hungry.”

“No,” Blair said, shaking his head slightly.

“How about some water?” Ellison asked, getting up to pour it but Sandburg shook his head again. “What’s wrong? Are you having pain?”

“Yeah,” the younger man admitted finally, since it was pointless to lie to a sentinel.

“I’ll get the nurse to give you something.”

“No, Jim, wait,” Blair protested, stopping him with a weak hand to his arm. “That’s just going to knock me out and I want to stay awake for awhile. It’s not too bad. I can handle it, really.”

“All right,” the sentinel relented, sitting down on the edge of his guide’s bed and taking care not to jostle him in the process. “I need to talk to you about something anyway. The doctor said that, barring any complications, they’re probably going to release you tomorrow or the next day. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Sandburg sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was thinking about just finding a motel room and crashing until I could move on.”

“Come home with me,” Jim said suddenly. Then he hesitated, looking away as he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean that to sound like an order,” he added softly. “I meant, you can come home with me if you want to. Simon has to leave first thing in the morning. I was just thinking that maybe I could stick around until you’re released and then we could take your car back to Cascade. It’s going to be a few days before you can drive, Chief. And this way you’d have somebody around to help you until you get back on your feet. What do you think?”

Blair closed his eyes for a second, mulling it over. If he had been at full strength he probably would have resisted, or at least argued before giving in. But he was hurting and his mind was still a little muddled from the drugs and he knew he was going to be sore for a few days until his incision healed. The thought of recuperating in some cheap hotel room by himself was not a cheery one. Especially not when weighed against the thought of the loft, warm and clean and equipped with everything he needed, including a sentinel to give him a hand until he recovered his full mobility. It was too much to pass up while he was down, and he opened his eyes and met his friend’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I’d like to come home.”

Jim grinned and nodded, reaching out to gently grasp his shoulder before he slid off the bed and went in search of the nurse. Blair let him go this time, willing to trade consciousness for respite. After all, he was going home with his sentinel. There would be plenty of time to talk on the way.

Blair slept through most of the night, and in the morning he felt marginally better. He was more alert and in less pain and managed to eat most of the bland breakfast that was brought to him. Simon stopped in on his way out of town to drop off Jim and say goodby, and he was encouraged that the young man was more engaged and talkative than he had been the day before. Jim was also encouraged, but not to the point that he agreed with the doctor when he stopped by at noon and announced that the patient was ready to be released. The sentinel was sure his friend could benefit from another day in the hospital and darkly speculated that the insurance company had something to do with such a rapid discharge, but he held his tongue because Blair was more than eager to leave. Besides, he knew he could care for his friend as well as the hospital once he got him home, although he was worried that the trip might be too hard on him. A concern the doctor didn’t seem to share as he merely advised Sandburg to take it easy and follow up with his own doctor in a few days.

As the staff went over wound care and arranged his discharge, Jim ran down to the pharmacy on the first floor and got the prescriptions of antibiotics and painkillers filled. Then he returned to his friend’s room and helped him get dressed, easing the loose sweat pants up his legs and over his bandaged stomach. Before long the kind nurse who had been instrumental in reuniting them came with a wheelchair and a satisfied smile and escorted them down to the hospital lobby. Jim pulled the Volvo up to the curb, and between the two of them they managed to get Blair into the cramped back seat. The sentinel got behind the wheel but stopped a few blocks from the hospital, leaving the car running as he dashed into a dollar store. He returned a few minutes later with a couple of cheap pillows and helped his guide get settled more or less comfortably before handing him a bottle of water and shaking out one of the painkillers from the bottle he pulled out of his pocket. Blair swallowed it without complaint, and as Jim exited the parking lot of the store and made for the highway, he tried to relax and distance himself from the pain, finally falling asleep as they headed for home.

Jim Ellison unleashed a torrent of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush as the car came to a stop. He focused his sight on the retreating licence plate of the semi that had changed lanes abruptly, forcing him to swerve onto the shoulder of the interstate and slam on the brakes to avoid either getting sideswiped or hitting the car in front of him. Cursing again at the fact he was in the Volvo, as opposed to his truck with flashing lights that would have allowed him to go after the trucker and pull him over and vent a little of his anger, he put the car into park and committed the plate number to memory for future retribution as he turned and leaned over the seat to check on his friend.

A seat belt had been out of the question as there was no way to arrange it where it wasn’t pressing against his incision. As a result, Blair had been jostled violently during the near accident and the sentinel grew livid as he saw the pain shining from the blue eyes that were huge in his guide’s white face. He was out of curses and had to invent some new ones as he undid his own seat belt and draped himself over the seat. Blair was dizzy with the sudden, sharp pain, but through the agony he still managed a tiny grin at his friend’s creativity.

“What happened?” he gasped out, trying and failing to keep some semblance of steadiness to his voice.

“Some son of a bitch ran us off the road,” Jim explained as he lifted up Sandburg’s shirt and carefully peeled away the bandages. He kept muttering about all the things he’d like to do to the trucker, growing more and more inventive as his rant continued.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Blair pleaded with his friend. “It hurts too much. And that last one isn’t even physically possible.”

“Maybe not but it’s mentally satisfying.”

“So what’s the damage?”

“Doesn’t look like you ripped any stitches,” Jim reported in relief as he replaced the bandages. “But I’m still tempted to catch up with that asshole and redefine the meaning of road rage.”

“No, Jim, just forget about it,” Blair urged him. “I’m ok. Just get me home, all right?”

“Ok,” the sentinel agreed, impulsively giving his guide’s curls a quick ruffle. “Just try and relax. We’ll be there in less than an hour.”

As they resumed their journey, Blair consciously slowed down his breathing and the sharp pain in his gut faded to a dull ache, and it was not long before the hum of the tires on the road lulled him back to sleep. Once he was out, Jim got on his cell phone and called the station, relaying the event and the plate number to Rafe, who promised to take care of it. It wasn’t much and would probably only result in a fine for the driver, but the sentinel was not about to let an assault on his guide go completely unpunished.

As they pulled onto Prospect Place, Blair gazed out of the car window almost reverently up at the building. He hadn’t been there in months and his future at the loft was uncertain, but for now it was home and he was definitely looking forward to it’s warm comforts.

Jim parked the Volvo and got out, moving the seat up as far as possible before attempting to extricate his friend from the car. It turned out to be harder than getting him in and it took a few minutes of maneuvering and aborted attempts. But finally Blair was free and on his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. Jim slid a supportive arm around his waist and they slowly began the journey into the building and up to the third floor.

By the time they made it into the loft, Blair was pale and a little breathless, trembling and sweating from pain and exertion. Jim helped him slide out of his jacket, hanging it up absently on a hook before escorting his friend into the living room.

“You’re going to have to hang out in here for a few minutes until I get your bed made up,” he said apologetically.

But Blair didn’t care as he was just eager to get off his feet and take some of the strain off his incision. Jim lowered him down into the yellow chair, which was not the most comfortable piece of furniture in the room but would most likely be the easiest to get back out of when the time came. Blair couldn’t hold back a groan as he settled down into it, slumping over to his right side a little and curling slightly in an attempt to take the pressure off his wound.

Jim went into the kitchen and pulled out the tea kettle, filling it with water and putting it on the stove to heat. Then he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went back to his friend, fishing the bottle of pills from his coat pocket.

“Why don’t you try another one of these, Chief?” he suggested, a little concerned when Blair didn’t even try to argue with him but merely swallowed the pain medication with a sip of water. He couldn’t help thinking once again that the hospital had released him too soon and that he should have had another day or two to recuperate before being discharged. But it was a moot point now, so he resigned himself to doing whatever he could to make his friend comfortable while he rested and healed.

Jim grabbed a pillow from the couch and slipped it under Blair’s head, then knelt on the floor and unlaced his shoes and took them off. He made a quick trip downstairs to the Volvo to bring up his own bag and as much of Sandburg’s luggage as he could carry, and by the time he got back upstairs the kettle was whistling. Leaving the bags by the door, Jim took the hot water and made a cup of the herbal tea he knew his friend would find comforting. He brought it to him and finally took a minute to remove his own jacket and kick off his shoes before going down the hall to make up his friend’s bed with clean sheets.

The sentinel was just finishing when a crash startled him. Going back out to the living room, he found Blair staring over the edge of the chair at the shattered mug and the puddle of cooling tea.

“God, Jim, I’m sorry,” Blair blurted out, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears.

“It’s ok, Chief,” Ellison was quick to assure him, skirting the mess as he came forward.

“I think I fell asleep and it must have slipped out of my hands,” Blair continued, gazing up at him with anguish in his blue eyes.

“It’s all right, buddy,” Jim soothed him calmly. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. Let’s just get you to bed, ok? You’ll feel better after you get some rest. Here, put your arm around my shoulders and let me get you up.”

The sentinel lifted his guide out of the chair, hoping to make the task easier on him but Blair still whimpered faintly as the movement pulled on his incision. Jim helped him down the hall and eased him down into bed, pulling the covers over him.

“Do you want some more tea?”

Blair shook his head absently as he restlessly squirmed, trying to find a comfortable position. He finally settled on his side, curled up in a loose ball. Jim squeezed his shoulder and went back to the kitchen, pouring the rest of the warm water from the kettle into the hot water bottle he dug out from under the sink. Wrapping it in a towel, the sentinel returned to his guide and pulled the covers down, gently moving his arm away from his stomach.

“Here, Chief. The doctor said heat would help with the pain,” he explained as he placed the warm bundle carefully against the bandaged wound. He covered his friend once more, but became alarmed as he saw tears dripping out from under his closed eyelids. “What’s wrong? Does that hurt?”

“No,” Blair whispered, his voice inaudible to all without sentinel hearing. “Feels good.”

“Then what’s the matter?” Jim asked with soft concern. “What is it?”

“I just...” Blair’s eyes squeezed even more tightly closed as a tremor ran through his body. “I’ve been so afraid, Jim.”

“Afraid of what?” The sentinel had a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Afraid that things were never going to be the same between us again,” Blair confessed haltingly. “And the fact that we can still be here like this after everything we went through... Knowing that I haven’t lost you....”

“No, you haven’t lost me, Chief,” Jim murmured in quiet reassurance. He didn’t completely understand what his friend was getting at, but he could guess. “You’re never going to lose me, no matter what. I’m here and I’ve got you, buddy. And I’m not going to lose you, either.”

Blair struggled to hold in his emotion, and when he failed he turned and buried his face into his pillow. Jim sat with him silently, rubbing a gentle hand up and down his back until his shoulders finally stopped shaking. The sentinel felt his guide relax into sleep, but he remained where he was. Naturally, he regretted the circumstances, but it was so damn good to have Blair home again that he just wanted to take a minute and enjoy it. Blair was home, where he belonged. The way it should be.

The sentinel heard his guide stirring and went to his room, sticking his head in through the door.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like my bladder’s about to explode,” Blair told him, reaching out a hand toward him in invitation. Jim helped him up and steadied him, and despite a wince and a hiss the younger man waved him off at the bathroom door, insisting he was able to complete the task on his own, thank you very much.

When he emerged from the bathroom Blair made his way out to the living room. Jim was on the phone so Sandburg eased himself onto the sofa with a small grunt, pulling the afghan over himself as he relaxed against the cushions.

“That was Simon,” Jim relayed as he hung up the phone. “He wanted to make sure we made it back and check on how you were doing and ask if you needed anything.”

“I didn’t know he cared,” Blair grinned, knowing full well that the gruff captain had a certain fondness for him even though he often went out of his way to pretend that he didn’t.

“I don’t think Simon knows he cares,” the sentinel grinned back as he entered the living room and perched on the arm of the sofa.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Just a few hours,” Jim replied. “It’s almost eight o’clock. Are you hungry? Do you want to try some food?”

“I don’t think so,” Blair answered. “My stomach’s not feeling too steady right now.”

“That’s why you need to put something in it,” Ellison argued. “Besides narcotics. I’m going to heat up some soup and I want you to try to eat a little, all right?”

“Yeah, ok. Listen, Jim, I’m sorry I freaked out on you earlier,” Sandburg told him earnestly. “I don’t know what made me break down like that.”

“I’d say the painkillers had something to do with it,” the sentinel rationalized. “And I think you were running a slight fever, too.” He reached down, resting a hand against his guide’s forehead. “You still feel a little warm. Here, let me look at your incision again.”

Blair held still and compliantly let his friend examine his wound.

“Is it infected?”

“It looks a little inflamed,” Jim revealed, “but I don’t think we need to worry just yet. The antibiotics will probably knock out any budding infection. I’ll clean this later and put a new bandage on, and we’ll just keep an eye on it for now.” The sentinel retaped the gauze to his guide’s abdomen and then sat back on his haunches and met his blue eyed gaze. “I have to ask you something, Chief. What did you mean before? When you said that you didn’t think things could be the same between us?”

“I didn’t think things could be the same,” Blair explained after thinking it over for a few moments. “I mean, we spent every day together, Jim. We were a big part of each other’s lives. But then my dissertation went out the window and I decided not to become a cop. I have no academic or professional reason to tail you anymore, and I guess I just couldn’t see where I fit into your life anymore. You didn’t seem to need me, since I was gone for three months and you never even called...”

“I was trying to give you some space, like you wanted,” Ellison interrupted defensively.

“That means not hassling me about my life plans,” Sandburg told him. “It doesn’t mean breaking off all contact completely.”

“Now, just hold the phone, Junior. You never called me, either,” Jim retorted.

“I know,” Blair said quietly. “And I’m sorry. I wanted to call. I tried to call. I was just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“I didn’t realize it until I saw you at the hospital, but I was afraid of coming back to you. Coming back home to the same mess if nothing was going to change.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We can’t keep pretending nothing happened, Jim,” Blair insisted. “There’s a thing between us and we need to deal with it. Because I can’t go on like this, ignoring these same issues and being afraid that you’re going to tell me it isn’t working and I need to get lost.”

“Why would you think I would tell you that?”

“Hello?” Sandburg said sarcastically. “Maybe because you already told me something to that effect twice in the past year.”

“I was upset,” Jim muttered uncomfortably. “You should know not to listen to me when I get that way.”

“Well, Jim, it’s pretty hard not to listen to you when I’m standing on the doorstep with boxes of all my worldly possessions.”

“That’s in the past,” the sentinel stated, getting to his feet to pace around the living room in agitation. “Can’t we just forget about it and move on?”

“It’s not in the past,” Blair argued. “It’s right here, right now. Staring us in the face.”

“I know I didn’t give you a fair shake,” Jim allowed. “And I’m not trying to excuse what happened. But I was going through some pretty intense stuff at the time. I don’t know what else you want me to say, Chief.”

“I know what you were going through,” Sandburg told him flatly. “I went through it, too, remember? And you know, if it was just a one time thing I could forget about it and move on, but it wasn’t. I’ve been trying to excuse what happened, Jim. Trying to convince myself that you didn’t really mean it. Blaming on some sentinel side effect. But eventually you get to the point where you just have to say enough is enough...” Blair trailed off, a light dawning in his blue eyes as something hit him. “Wow, that’s funny.”

“What is?” Ellison asked, not finding anything remotely funny about their conversation.

“The whole time I was gone I kept wondering if you even wanted me to come back,” Blair said slowly. “And I just realized that it never occurred to me to ask myself if I wanted to come back.”

“What are you saying?” Jim demanded. “Now you want to call it quits?”

“I’m saying that it’s exhausting being your friend,” the younger man sighed wearily. “I know that you care about me, Jim, and I hope you know that I love you. But sometimes it’s hard to be around you. Spending nights lying awake and analyzing conversations, trying to filter out the misunderstandings and displaced aggression. Trying to convince myself that you don’t mean it or can’t help it when you’re thoughtless or insensitive or downright mean and then having to watch you treat Simon and the rest of the guys with respect that you don’t seem to have for me. Knowing that you thought I sold you out and trying to pretend that it doesn’t hurt to think that you still don’t trust me after everything we’ve been through together. And walking around on eggshells all the time because I never know when I’m going to piss you off and get booted out of your life again. Relationships are never easy and there’s always going to be bumps in the road, but a friendship built on trust and love just shouldn’t be this hard, Jim. I’ve been bearing the brunt of your crap for months now, and there’s a limit to how much more I can take.”

“Fine,” the sentinel said, his voice cold and his face neutral. “If that’s the way you want it.”

“Come on, Jim,” Blair called out in irritation as his friend headed toward the loft. “Don’t get all defensive on me. We need to talk about this.”

Ellison ignored him and kept going, but he only made it up two steps before a bellowing voice froze him in his tracks. He almost didn’t recognize it, as the tone was fierce and authoritative and not to be denied.

“James Ellison! Get your ass back in here and sit down, damn it! Do NOT make me chase you up those stairs!”

The sentinel only hesitated a moment before he returned to the living room and gingerly had a seat in the yellow chair, his head bowed almost meekly in submission.

“I do not want to call it quits,” Blair continued, wincing slightly as he pulled himself up to a more upright position. “I am eternally grateful for everything you’ve done and everything you’ve given me over the past few years. And I’m never going to stop being your friend. However, there’s no chance that we can keep working together or have anything beyond a casual relationship if you can’t learn to stop treating me like something disposable. Because next time you kick me to the curb, I won’t come back.”

Jim was silent for a long time as he stared at the floor, clenching and unclenching his jaw as he realized how foolish he’d been to think that Blair was home to stay and everything was going to go on as it had before, with all wrongs forgiven and forgotten. And he began to grow afraid. Afraid that his guide had been right and that things couldn’t ever be the same between them again.

“Well,” he said finally as he got to his feet, his eyes still fixed on the floor. “I’d better see about getting that soup on the stove.”

Blair sighed, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t the response he’d been hoping for, but it was better than the one he’d been expecting. He’d gotten Jim to listen while he’d said his piece, and that was all he could do. The rest was up to the sentinel. And at least Jim was still willing to feed him, Blair thought wryly. So maybe there was still hope.

There was a palpable tension in the loft for the rest of the evening. The sentinel tended diligently to his guide, bringing him the soup and a mug of tea and then gently cleaning and bandaging his incision. But he did so silently, speaking shortly and bluntly when he had to, and without making eye contact. Blair wasn’t surprised, and while he didn’t regret their conversation, he started to regret the timing of it. After all, Jim had really been there for him, and admittedly he’d come down pretty hard on his friend. But they were words that needed to be said, and Sandburg realized it was probably better to get it out sooner rather than later. A preemptive strike, instead of waiting until it was too late and they were back in the same mess all over again. And hopefully the sentinel could lower his defensive wall enough to realize the words were spoken with love and a desire to heal, as opposed to being a personal attack.

But that was going to take some time, Blair knew, and in the meantime he thought it was best to lay low for a bit. So he announced that he was tired, which wasn’t a total lie, and told his friend he was going to bed. Jim gave him a hand up but didn’t let go of him, finally looking him in the eye as he made an assessment.

“How’s the pain?”

“Not too bad,” Sandburg replied.

“Do you think you can get by with ibuprofen? It’ll be better if you can because that’ll help keep your temperature down.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Blair agreed, more to stave off another narcotic-induced breakdown than anything else.

“I’ll bring it to you.”

Blair stopped off in the bathroom and then got himself settled in bed. Jim entered the room with a glass of water and the ibuprofen and antibiotic pills. Sandburg swallowed the handful of tablets with some of the water then looked up at his friend who was leaning against the doorway.

“Jim, thank you,” he said quietly, knowing that the sentinel would know he meant for more than the pills. And for a moment, the ice blue eyes thawed as they gazed back down at him.

“You’re welcome, Chief.” Then Ellison turned, tossing a “good night” over his shoulder as he left the room, pulling the doors shut behind him.

Blair was decidedly sore and his energy was flagging, but he felt better when he woke in the morning. He managed to get himself up without too much pull on his incision, and as he wandered out into the kitchen he was surprised to see that Jim wasn’t up yet. Sandburg tried to be quiet, which was pointless when living with a sentinel, but he made the effort all the same as he threw together a breakfast of juice and cereal. Ellison appeared within a few minutes, looking a bit haggard and leaving his friend to wonder if he’d had trouble sleeping. Jim made coffee and fixed his own bowl of cereal, and they ate breakfast in silence before the detective finally spoke, informing his friend that he had to go into the station for a few hours and asking if he’d be all right alone. Blair assured him that he’d be fine and the veil of silence fell once more as Ellison got ready for work, telling him he’d be home early that afternoon and bidding him a curt goodbye as he left.

Sandburg sighed as he cleaned up the kitchen, realizing the old pattern was falling into place. His moment of need was passing. And as his independence grew, so did the wall between them. He hadn’t given any thought to what he would do once he recovered from his surgery, but now he knew it was something he was going to have to start considering. Because if Jim was unable or unwilling to find a way to knock that wall down, Blair knew he couldn’t stay at the loft once he was able to move on. He loved Jim with all his heart and he knew the reverse was true, but he just couldn’t keep living like this anymore. It was just too hard on his soul.

Blair made himself comfortable on the sofa and watched tv for awhile, dozing off mid morning and waking around noon. He made himself some lunch and then took another short nap in his room. After a hot shower he examined his incision, pleased to see that the inflamation had gone and that the wound was healing. He slathered it with antibiotic ointment and carefully bandaged it back up. Then his thoughts started leaning toward dinner and he decided it might be nice to throw something together and have it ready for Jim when he came home, as a thank you for all that he’d done. There wasn’t a whole lot in the refrigerator to work with, but Blair found what he needed to make an easy, but tasty, meal. However, his dinner date was late. Sandburg waited as long as he could, then decided to go ahead and eat when his attempt to call his friend’s cell phone ended up going straight to voice mail. But he left the food on the stove under low heat, wondering if he should be worried or not. It wasn’t like Jim to be late, especially when he said he’d be back early. But then again, he was pissed off and maybe trying to avoid the loft. Surely Simon would have called him if anything had happened to the sentinel. Unless something had befallen him after he’d left the station and was on his way home.

A number of scenarios were running through his mind as Blair finally gave up and started wrapping up the leftovers and cleaning up the kitchen. He’d just decided that he needed to be worried when he heard the key in the lock and the door to the loft opened.

“Where’ve you been?” he demanded as his friend entered and hung up his coat.

The sentinel looked at him evenly before his glance swept the kitchen and he immediately realized what his guide had been up to.

“Sorry,” he said a bit sheepishly. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Yeah, I’d say you did,” Blair agreed, just relieved that none of his imaginative scenarios had come true. “What were you doing?”

“Walking down by the bay, mostly,” Jim explained as he moved into the living room and had a seat in the yellow chair. “I had some thinking to do.” He grinned as his friend appeared at his side and handed him a beer. “Thanks, Edith.”

“You’re welcome, Archie,” Blair replied in a high pitched squawk. He went into the kitchen and got a bottle of water for himself before returning to the living room and making himself comfortable on the sofa. “So, what were you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about what you said yesterday,” Jim told him quietly. “And you were right about most of it, Chief. Sometimes I do treat you like something disposable, and I’m sorry for that. But you have to know that nothing could ever be further from the truth. You’re the most important person in my life.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t know,” the sentinel sighed, scrubbing a hand wearily over his face. “I’ve been trying to figure that out all day. Maybe I’m just that much of a dickhead.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Blair said softly, unable to hold back a grin.

“Actually, I think that’s a pretty fair call,” Jim said with a sad grin before he dropped his gaze to studiously examine the label on his beer bottle. “I don’t want you to go, but instead of letting you know that you’re wanted I do everything to convince you that I don’t care if you leave.

“But why?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Ellison shook his head slightly. He knew full well why he behaved that way. Because it would literally kill him to lose the best friend he ever had, so he pretended like he didn’t care, hoping that when the day came that Blair did finally leave him, in pursuit of his career or for love or through death or simply because he managed to drive him off, that he would somehow believe his own denial and the loss wouldn’t rip his heart out. The sentinel had managed to come to grips with these feelings and admit the truth of them, but admitting them out loud was another story. “All that does matter is that I start treating you with the respect that you deserve. And I’m going to try, Blair. I wish I could give you a guarantee that things are going to change over night, but it’s probably going to take a little time. I can promise you that I’m going to work at it. Just try to have a little patience with me those times that I’m hard to be around, and keep giving me a kick in the ass when I’m acting like a stubborn jerk. Unless...” Jim tensed slightly and took a deep breath, hating to even think about such a possibility. “Unless you think we’ve already passed the point of no return.”

“If I thought that, Jim, I wouldn’t be here now,” Blair told him gently. “And I shouldn’t have laid all the blame at your feet. I know I’m not the easiest guy in the world to live with, and I certainly haven’t been the perfect friend. I’ve made my share of mistakes, too.”

“Maybe, but you never set out with bad intentions.”

“Well, you didn’t, either. Not really. I know you fly on instinct, man, and you tend to react first and think later in a lot of situations.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier on you when I push you away, though,” Jim rationalized. “Getting kicked in the teeth still hurts, whether it was intentional or accidental.”

“Yeah.” Blair was quiet for a moment, then met his friend’s gaze head on. “But, Jim, the thing is, I know that if I ever need you, you’ll be there for me. No matter what else happens between us, I know that if I’m ever in trouble that you’ll be there to help, come hell or high water. At the end of the day, that’s what really matters. And I know I threatened to leave and not come back, but I hope you know that if you ever needed me, I’d be there, too. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Jim.”

“I know, Chief,” the sentinel whispered, his gaze locked onto his guide’s. Two sets of blue eyes spoke a silent communication, the love they had for each other laid bare in their depths, releasing and forgiving a lot of the hurt and the betrayal and the pain of the past year, and both gladly willing to sacrifice all for the sake of the other. “So now where does this leave us?”

“Starting over, I guess,” Blair said thoughtfully. “And trying to do better this time around. I don’t know what kind of a future we’ll have together, but I can’t imagine us not having one at all.”

“That future may not be as far from the past as you might think, Chief.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, Simon didn’t want me to say anything to you,” Jim hedged. “He didn’t want to get your hopes up if he couldn’t make it happen. But it is your life and you should have a say in this.”

“What?”

“He’s been doing a lot of research into other major police departments around the country,” the detective explained. “Specifically he’s looking into Forensics Anthropologists. He thinks he’ll be able to create a paid position for you and get the brass to sign off on it.”

“He would do that?” Blair whispered in awe. “For me? For us?”

“No, not just for us,” Jim continued with a fond look. “In case you missed it, Chief, you were instrumental in breaking a number of cases for the Cascade PD. You cut our research time in half and were able to fill in the blanks more times than I can count. Everyone in Major Crime is lobbying to get you back, for professional reasons as well as personal.”

“But how is Simon going to ever get that approved?” Sandburg asked quietly. “They aren’t going to let him hire a fraud...”

“Just let Simon worry about that,” Ellison reassured him. “He’s building a strong argument with a number of our past cases to back him up, including the fact that you are a big reason why I’ve been cop of the year three years running. He might have to call in a few favors and get a little tough with this one, but Simon’s not going to back down until he gets what he wants here. Besides, he’s motivated,” the sentinel added, his eyes twinkling. “He seems to have this crazy idea that you somehow help keep me in line.”

Blair chuckled, but he was left speechless, a bit overwhelmed and not knowing what to say. A hesitation that Jim read as reluctance.

“But it’s all your call,” he put in hastily. “Don’t feel obligated or pressured. Only if this is what you really want. And if it’s not, then I’ll support you and help you with whatever you decide that you do want.”

“This is what I want, Jim,” Blair murmured. Exactly what he wanted, and exactly what he thought he could never have again. Working with his sentinel, getting paid to offer the analysis and insights that he specialized in while avoiding the parts of the job that he was uncomfortable with. Picking up and plugging back into a life he thought was dead, but one that had come back with a vengeance, even better than before. “But is it what you want?”

“It’s not just what I want, it’s what I need,” Jim said sincerely, before giving him a teasing grin. “But what I need even more is something to eat. Any of that feast left over?”

Blair offered to get it for him, but the sentinel waved him off, telling him to relax. Sandburg watched him over the back of the sofa as he fixed a plate and stuck it in the microwave.

“Hey, Jim, I have a question. When you came in you said I had been right about almost everything I said yesterday. Just out of curiosity, what did I get wrong?”

“You said that I didn’t trust you,” Ellison answered, his back to his friend as he faced the microwave, watching the seconds tick by. “But I always trusted you, Chief. I just didn’t trust myself.”

Blair was quiet as his sentinel resumed his seat in the living room with his dinner and clicked on tv. The wall was gone between them, and while there was still a slight tenseness in the air, they both were sure they could get past it. They weren’t quite fixed yet - that would take a little more time and a little more healing. But they would get there, without a doubt.

They spent the evening flipping through the channels and arguing good naturedly about what to watch. Quickly growing bored with tv, Blair began hypothesizing what things would be like when and if he became a full fledged member of the MCU and they both began spinning outrageous tales of danger and peril for Cascade, with the storyteller inexorably using his special skills to save his partner’s ass, much to the listener’s mixed chagrin and humor. Blair’s wounded side began to ache from laughing and he finally decided to call it a night. But before he disappeared into the room under the stairs, he paused in the doorway and looked back at his friend.

“You know,” he said teasingly. “If Simon hires me and I get a steady paycheck under my belt, I’ll be able to move out from under all your rules and get a place of my own.”

Jim looked back him, not threatened but not playful either.

“Just promise me you won’t go too far, Chief,” he said softly.

“Maybe out of arm’s reach,” Blair laughed, referring to his friend’s tendency of affectionately smacking him. “But I promise, not too far. Night, Jim.”

“Good night, Blair.”

The sentinel turned off the tv, but he remained where he was in the living room, listening to the strong heartbeat ringing out from under the stairs. He sighed contentedly as the much loved sound automatically relaxed him. Blair was home, where he belonged. And this time Jim was going to make sure he’d never leave again.

Finis

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