Us Again

Author’s Note: This story is an epilogue for “Sentinel, Too, part 2" and obviously contains spoilers. No copyright infringement intended on characters owned by PetFly/Paramount. Just having a little nonprofit fun while I clean up their unfinished business. Comments always welcome.

Blair Sandburg was exhausted. To say it had been a rough week was a colossal understatement, and sleep had been more of a luxury than a necessity. He hadn’t had what could be called a good night’s rest in days, and glancing at his watch as he got in line for Customs he realized he’d been up for thirty-one straight hours. And the majority of that time had been spent on the move. The police that had arrived to haul off Alex and Arguillo and his men had given Simon and Megan a ride back to the town, although it was still over a mile long trek to get from the hidden temple to what could loosely be called a road. But Blair had refused to go with them and insisted on backtracking to the downed helicopter in order to retrieve his pack that Arguillo had forced him to leave behind. He wasn’t concerned about his possessions or supplies, but he was not about to abandon a priceless book to the deterioration of the rainforest. Being out of print and 100 years old with only scant copies known to be in existence made The Sentinels of Paraguay valuable, but for the anthropologist its worth was purely sentimental. It was the first stepping stone that led him to his passion and dream of actually finding a sentinel, as well as serving as his manual and field guide. Put simply, it would have broken his heart to leave his beloved Burton book behind. Jim was not happy about his intention to return for it and let that fact be known loudly and widely, but Blair was adamant about going back for the book and Ellison couldn’t very well let him go alone. So they set off together, navigating the jungle and retrieving Sandburg’s pack, as well as Megan’s before beginning the long trek back to Sierra Verde.

Fortunately, once they got through the worst of the brush a jeep was waiting for them, thanks to the GPS transponder that Blair still carried. It saved them half a days’ walk, but delivered them back to the police station where they spent most of the night in an interrogation which was more grueling than either one of them expected, thanks to the various branches of government corruption that were at war with each other and doing their collective best to assign blame and cover their asses when suddenly faced with what could have been a hugely embarrassing, not mention deadly, national incident. When they were finally released, there was only time to return to the hotel for a quick shower and change of clothes without the luxury of the brief rest their companions, who had returned earlier and had subsequently been released earlier, had enjoyed. Megan had booked them a flight back home and they were hard pressed to grab their stuff and make it to the small airport in nearby Merida on time.

They had landed in Dallas to pick up a connecting flight, and after they cleared Customs everyone mutually decided the first order of business was finding something to eat. Blair wholeheartedly agreed with his friends, for it had been far more than thirty-one hours since he’d had a real meal. They sought out the nicest restaurant the airport had to offer, and though it was only a little after noon they all immediately turned to the dinner menu, even before Simon announced that he was picking up the tab. As it turned out, they had a long layover and after they’d eaten there was still plenty of time to kill before their flight. Blair tried to catch a nap in the terminal but he found his mind was too restless to let him sleep, despite his fatigue. Giving up, he wandered off and bought a notebook and a pack of pens from one of the newsstands and began jotting down notes on everything sentinel related he’d witnessed over the past few days. There was no order or reason to his thoughts as his fingers flew over the blank pages, filling them rapidly. He was just trying to get everything down while it was all fresh in his mind, figuring he’d worry about organizing and making sense of his impressions later. And he became so absorbed in his work that he would have completely missed their boarding call if Jim hadn’t nudged him back to reality.

The seats on the plane were hardly the epitome of comfort, but they were a vast improvement over the hard ground or a wooden church pew. And Sandburg was sorely tempted to tilt his seat back and give into his weariness, knowing that when he awoke they’d be back home in Cascade. But instead he turned on the small light above his head and got up to pull his carry on bag out of the overhead compartment. He spied Megan and Simon sitting a few rows behind them and grinned at the sight of the tall captain crammed into the tight space, but apparently not in too much discomfort by the way he was catching flies. The inspector was likewise fast asleep, her head pillowed on Banks’ shoulder, presumably unconsciously. Blair chuckled to himself as he pulled his notebook and a pen and his glasses out of his bag and sat back down, wondering who would be the first of the pair to wake up and how much mortification would be involved. But as he began to work on his notes, he quickly forgot about his friends as his mind went back to the ancient Olmec temple. He hadn’t been able to get any pictures, as his camera had been tucked away in the bag he’d left with the helicopter. It was a fact he bemoaned with great loss, as well as the fact that he hadn’t been able to explore the place apart from an all too quick walk through. As he worked on a few sketches and the accompanying detailed descriptions to compensate for his lack of artistic ability, his thoughts were also busy creating a mental dream team of staff from the anthropology and archeology departments that could return and study the Temple of Light in depth, provided they could get the necessary approval. The Mexican government had been quick enough in one thing - securing the site of the newly discovered ancient artifact even though they didn’t, and probably wouldn’t ever, understand its importance and mysticism.

Sandburg allowed himself a brief, pleasant daydream where he would actually get to lead and head such a momentous expedition, then he shook his head slightly and went back to his notes, reading back through what he’d written, adding and correcting along the way. But he soon found his concentration repeatedly broken by an increasingly restless sentinel, who began shifting and repositioning in the seat beside him.

“What’s the matter with you?” Blair demanded after the third time he was sharply elbowed.

“It’s my senses,” Ellison confided quietly after a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening. “Ever since I came out of that damned pool everything’s been more intense. I’m trying to dial it back, but this engine noise is about to shatter my skull. You have to help me figure out how to tone this down.”

“Look, Jim,” Sandburg sighed, taking off his glasses and turning slightly to face his friend. “We need to talk about something.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.” The anthropologist sympathized with the pain and discomfort he could see in his partner’s face, but he had reached his limit and there was no moving forward until they could get a few things straight. “I can’t keep going on like this, Jim.”

“Like what?”

“This,” Blair told him, waving a vague hand in the air. “You resist every time I try to get you to work on your senses. You never want to practice with control and it’s like pulling teeth to get you to submit to a simple test. You blow me off all the time, man, up until something starts going haywire. Then you start demanding that I do something. Hell, last week you were ready to call it quits. And now you want help. Well, you can’t have it both ways, Jim. Either you let me in all the way and start working with me, or else there’s no point in continuing this.”

“Fine,” Ellison said abruptly, turning to face the window.

“Come on, Jim,” Sandburg protested tiredly. “Don’t get all pissy. Let’s just talk this over.”

“Not here,” the sentinel told him quietly, but there was a note of steel in his soft voice.

“Fine,” Blair muttered, mimicking his partner’s previous retort. He sat for a moment, staring at the solemn figure next to him, who refused to acknowledge his gaze. The he shook his head and went back to his notes, not having the energy or the desire to challenge his friend.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the flight, and it wasn’t until they had landed and were waiting at the baggage carousel to pick up their luggage that Sandburg broke the silence.

“So what state is the loft in?” he asked, since the last time he’d been there it had been stripped and empty. “Are we better off just checking into a hotel for the night?”

“Well, I put most of the stuff back,” Ellison began hesitantly.

“Just none of my stuff,” Blair concluded in irritation. He ran a hand through his hair, considering getting a room for himself, but then discarding the notion. The plane ticket to Mexico hadn’t been cheap, and he doubted very much that he’d be able to convince Simon that the department should reimburse him. Which meant his budget was going to be tight for the next couple of months to compensate. “I guess I’ll just crash on the couch then. If that’s all right with you,” he couldn’t help adding, a bit nastily.

“Whatever,” Jim shrugged, snatching his bag from the sea of luggage circling before them.

Sandburg collected his own gear and said goodbye to Megan and Simon before heading off on his own to catch a cab. His car was still parked at Rainier and he was going to need it in the morning, so he detoured to the university instead of going straight home. When the taxi dropped him off he put his bags into the trunk of his car and headed for his office. He’d made a few calls during the layover in Dallas, but he wanted to check his messages and go over his schedule so he’d know where to pick up with everything in the morning. It didn’t take him long, but the building was quiet and he was exhausted, nodding off almost as soon as he sat down at his desk. Blair was tempted to just spend the night where he was, but he managed to shake himself awake enough to make it back to his car and head for the place that he used to call home.

He’d gotten the cold shoulder from his sentinel ever since their brief chat on the plane, and it was obvious that Ellison was ticked at him. Sandburg figured that Jim would be annoyed with having him at the loft, even if he wouldn’t come right out and deny him shelter. But as he slipped his key into the lock and opened the door, he wasn’t so sure. The loft was quiet, with the detective already upstairs in bed even though it was barely 8 o’clock. But the couch had been made up with sheets and pillows and blankets, and Blair found clean towels laid out for him in the bathroom. It wasn’t much, but it was more than he’d been expecting. Too tired to try and reason out the meaning behind the gesture, Sandburg groped around in one of the bags he’d hauled in from the car for something to change into and then collapsed on the couch, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Blair awoke automatically when the sun’s ray began to illuminate the loft. Ten hours rest hadn’t been enough to counter the sleep deprivation he was suffering and he still felt exhausted. To make matters worse, the slight stuffiness he’d gone to bed with had settled into his chest, making it tight with congestion and giving a wheeze to his lungs. But after his brief stint in the hospital and his unplanned “vacation” south of the border, Sandburg knew he couldn’t call into Rainier again. So he dragged himself up with a sigh of resignation and hit the shower. The hot water and steam seemed to ease his breathing somewhat, and he felt a little better as he toweled off and got dressed, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was a futile effort when living with a sentinel, but he didn’t hear any stirring upstairs and he assumed that Jim was just as exhausted as he was and wasn’t going to be disturbed by his soft movements, enhanced hearing or not.

He contemplated breakfast, but there wasn’t much to chose from and Blair decided he wasn’t that hungry anyway. Snagging a bottle of water from the fridge, he opted to pick up something on his way. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, Sandburg slipped silently out of the loft, locking the door behind him. He walked down the block to the coffee shop on the next street and got a bagel and a latte, then retraced his steps until he reached his Volvo.

It was still early and the morning commuter traffic was reasonably light. Blair arrived at Rainier in good time and entered his office, taking a seat at his desk and absently partaking of his breakfast as he went over his schedule and began to get his lecture notes in order. Since he’d been AWOL the past week, he knew he really should be around in case any of his students needed help or had questions. But cancelling his afternoon office hours began to be an attractive proposition. He had a lot of work ahead of him, as well as countless trips to the basement to get his room habitable again.

The night Jim had told him he was out and taken off, Blair was left in dumbfounded shock. He’d sat there in the loft for a long time, trying to reason out the irrational behavior and desperately trying to think of some way to fix it. But in the end, he decided that maybe it was best if he cleared out for the night. Because whatever was going through his sentinel’s head, logic and reason had nothing to do with it.

Blair packed a bag with a few days worth of clothes and quickly reorganized the boxes that were already filled. Two boxes of his most valued items were loaded into his car, and he hauled a few more down to the basement. The rest he dragged back into his bedroom, hoping that Ellison would be placated with that and wouldn’t take it upon himself to haul everything out to the curb. Sandburg refused to empty the loft of all traces of himself, because he couldn’t believe this was a permanent measure. Whatever was going on, Jim would snap out of it sooner or later. Blair had to believe that.

He presumed now that the boxes he’d left had gone to the basement with everything else in the loft. Idly, Sandburg had to wonder how Ellison had gotten all the furniture down there. He had not been in a congenial mood, so it was doubtful he had enlisted any of his friends to help him with that bit of insanity. More like he had paid the kid from the second floor to do it. The boy was huge, a linebacker for his high school football team, and quiet as a church mouse. Brute strength and no questions - just what the sentinel would have been looking for. Which led Blair to wonder what the kid charged for his services. He wasn’t sure he could count on Jim to help him get his bed back to the loft. The couch was comfortable enough, but Blair was wiped out and he didn’t feel well and he just wanted a good night’s sleep in his own room, in his own bed. If it even was still his room.

Checking the time, he saw it was approaching nine o’clock, so Sandburg gathered up his things and headed off to his first class. He made it through reasonably well, but a coughing fit overtook him in the middle of his second lecture and he had to end a few minutes early. Stopping to pick up a bottle of juice, Blair continued on to the monthly departmental lunch meeting. He didn’t get much out of it, as his concentration was diverted to muffling his coughs as much as possible and trying not to visibly shiver as chills began to assault him. The meeting seemed to drag on forever, but when it finally ended Blair flagged down one of the TA’s who agreed to cover for him if he wasn’t able to make it in the following day. Then he went back to his office and put his phone on speaker to check his voice mail while he began shoving folders into his backpack. But he stopped in surprise when the message started and he heard Ellison’s voice.

“It’s me.” Long pause. “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I know we have a lot of things to hash out, but all your stuff’s back in your room so I guess that clears up that end of it.” Longer pause. “See you when you get home.”

Blair sat down, listening to the message again and shaking his head slightly. Then he erased it with a rather deliberate punch of the phone key. He spent a few minutes trying to scrape together a few lesson plans, just in case a good night’s sleep wouldn’t be the cure all he was hoping for and he’d need to call upon his sub in the morning. Checking the time, he saw he was fifteen minutes into his office hours. And since no panicked students with dire emergencies had come bursting through the door, he decided to declare his hours officially canceled. Sandburg packed up and left his office, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him.

As he came out of the building and navigated the stairs, Blair paused as the fountain caught his eye. Slowly he approached it, appreciating the beauty of the structure and the calming spray of water. It held no bad memories for him. Alex had forced him out there and he had stood looking at the cool, white concrete and the dancing splash of water that sparkled with all colors of the rainbow as the first rays of the rising sun illuminated it. And as he waited for the sting of the bullet to tear through his flesh, he supposed there could be worse things to be the last sight one laid eyes on before death took hold. Then the butt of the gun cracked against his head, sending him into oblivion. And his next conscious thought was one of confusion, as he awoke in the hospital with the doctor telling him he had drowned.

Why hadn’t she just shot him? Obviously she was capable of pulling the trigger, as she had done it without hesitation before. One strategically placed bullet and it would have all been over. Quick, simple, easy. It couldn’t have been the noise. A sentinel that specialized in robbing some of the most securely guarded fortresses in the country wouldn’t have been afraid of a few campus cops. So why hadn’t she just fired the gun, wrapped up her loose ends, and gotten rid of him once and for all? Maybe there wasn’t a ready answer, but Blair wanted to believe that Alex had been trying to give him a chance, slim as it was. He was still alive when she’d dragged him into the fountain, and there was always the remote possibility that someone would find him, or that he’d revive and be able to save himself. Not exactly what happened, but he was found and he was saved. Something told him that if she’d used the gun, nothing Jim could have done would have brought him back.

Blair left the fountain and went to his car, tossing his backpack into the front seat. But he didn’t get in. He was starting to have trouble catching his breath. That along with his budding fever suggested something a little more ominous than a bad chest cold, and he knew he needed to get it checked out. So he turned and began trudging up the hill toward the student health center, his mind drifting back to Ellison’s message as he walked.

“I guess that clears up that end of it.”

What did it clear up? Nothing, as far as Sandburg was concerned. Obviously it was some sort of peace offering, with Jim recanting his earlier eviction. But for how long? If they couldn’t get things worked out and did end up terminating their sentinel project, would they be able to go on as friends? As roommates? Part of him couldn’t even imagine such a scenario. Ellison was just being his usual stubborn jerk self, and Blair could find a way around that. He always did. But then there was another part of him that suddenly wasn’t so sure.

The way Jim had looked the last time they'd spoken before Alex had come for him at his office... So hard and cold, unapproachable, unreachable, and unforgiving. It had made Blair sick to realize that his best friend hated him. Sandburg had wanted to work things out, but it was fairly clear that the sentinel did not share his sentiments. So he dropped his ultimatum and went to Rainier to sit alone in his office in the dark, his heart aching to think that their friendship had passed the point of no return. And then Alex had come to put him out of his misery.

Waking up in the hospital to find he was alive was a great thing. But learning that he was alive because Jim couldn't let him go... It was indescribable. Although short lived, as Ellison almost immediately skipped the country without so much as a goodbye. So when Megan dropped in to inform him of what Jim and Simon were up to, as well as her intentions to follow them, Blair left the hospital without a second thought and went with her. Alex Barnes was dangerous; he knew it better than anyone. And Jim certainly hadn't been himself since she'd entered their lives, so he needed his guide more than ever to back him up. But Sandburg was dismayed to find he was powerless over whatever force was at work on his friend, driving his irrational behavior. He tried to tell himself that it was some primal sentinel instinct beyond Ellison's control, but that did little to console him as he helplessly watched Jim passionately kissing the woman who had so callously tried to murder him.

Blair signed in at the reception desk at the health center and was given a clipboard full of forms. He filled them out and returned them, then sat down to wait, leaning his head back against the chair and closing his eyes with a sigh. Everything that had happened since he’d awoken in the hospital seemed to be a chaotic whirlwind. The events in Mexico had been so intense and had happened so fast. He hadn’t had any time to process any of it, and he and Jim had been so focused on the problems at hand they certainly hadn’t had a chance to talk about anything. It was obvious by the way Ellison had brought him back at the fountain that he definitely did not hate him. Quite the opposite. But that didn’t mean that he forgave him, trusted him, or wanted to salvage their working relationship. Which left Blair particularly unsettled. Jim had been civil enough to him in Mexico, but Sandburg just couldn’t get the image out of his head of the look on his friend’s face as he told him it was over. They may have loved each other, but their future together was still far from certain. Blair just wasn’t sure where he stood anymore. And he was a little afraid to find out, because he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer.

The sentinel immediately realized something was wrong as his haggard guide entered the loft late that afternoon.

“Are you all right?”

“No,” Blair replied softly as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door. His room was calling him, but his head was swimming and the distance was suddenly daunting, so he headed for the living room and collapsed into the nearest chair, intending to rest for a minute and wait for the room to stop spinning before he went the remainder of the way. Closing his eyes, he dozed off for a second until he felt a gentle hand rest against his forehead.

"Chief, you're burning up," Jim murmured worriedly as the younger man cracked an eye to peer up at him.

"I'm ok," Sandburg muttered, shoving his friend's hand away.

"I think we should get you to a doctor."

"I went to the health clinic on campus," Blair explained wearily. "They said it’s the start of pneumonia. But they gave me some pills so I'll be fine in a couple of days."

"It's from the fountain, isn't it?" Ellison whispered. Sandburg didn't answer, but he didn't have to. Drowning was bad enough to comprise his lungs, without leaving the hospital against medical advice and traveling halfway across the country to subject himself to the physical strain of trekking through the wet, humid Mexican jungle. It was no wonder he was sick.

Blair glanced up at his friend who quickly looked away and he sighed, feeling the air burn his abused lungs. He didn’t know if things could ever be the same between them again, after all that had happened with Alex Barnes. They needed to talk, a long, serious talk that would either heal them or destroy them. But as much as he wanted to try and put things right, Blair knew it was not the time. He felt miserable and dizzy and drained, but even if he wasn't sick, he speculated that the hurt might still be too recent and raw for any sort of rational discussion. Still, it would have been nice to clear the air of the awkward tension between them, if only for the fact that it would have allowed him to rest a little easier. But then Jim turned to meet his gaze, his remote blue eyes softened by concern.

"Come on, Chief," he said gently, sliding an arm around him and helping him to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked, forced to cling to his friend's arm as the dizziness threatened to overtake him.

"You're going to bed, and you're going to stay there," Ellison told him firmly, his voice taking on a no nonsense tone. Sandburg wanted to protest, but there didn't seem to be much point in it since it was what he wanted in the first place. So he let his friend lead him to his room where he changed his clothes amid the clutter of boxes. His stuff had indeed been returned from the basement, but it hadn’t been unpacked. That didn’t bother him, since his bed was assembled and made, and he crawled under the covers gratefully, a little surprised when his roommate sat down on the edge of the futon next to him. "Do you want something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"How about some tea?"

"Jim, you don't have to..."

"I know I don't have to," the sentinel interrupted sternly. He rested a hand on his guide's shoulder, squeezing it slightly through the blankets. "Do you want some tea?"

"Yeah," Blair whispered. "Thanks."

"I'll be back in a minute."

Ellison returned shortly, bearing a steaming mug. Sandburg took it and carefully sipped the hot, soothing liquid, glancing up at his friend and seeing the fond concern in his open expression. They held each other’s gaze for several heartbeats, coming to a mutual silent agreement. A temporary truce was declared, and the wall of tension between them came down.

Not a moment too soon, as far as Blair was concerned. As he’d made his way home from the university, he anticipated having to care for himself. The idea didn’t bother him, for he’d been doing just that since he was sixteen years old. But as his symptoms worsened he realized he was in over his head, and as he neared the point of incapacitation, having Jim there ceased to be a luxury and became a necessity. One that they both embraced. For Ellison was of like mind with his partner. Whatever may have been going on between them, the fact that they loved one another was never in question. The sentinel knew his crazy, irrational behavior had been hurtful to his guide, to say the least. So he was more than happy to cater to him now, hoping that somehow it could make up for the fact that he’d turned his back on his friend, leaving him open and vulnerable to the predation of a murderous madwoman. For his part, Blair enjoyed his friend's gentle ministrations, taking comfort in the fact that his sentinel was always there to give him whatever he needed with no trace of tension or aloofness in his manner, just a loving warmth.

It was about the only thing he did enjoy. Blair spent the next three days dozing in and out of a feverish daze. There were periods when the heat seemed to smother him, tempered by bouts of shaking chills. His chest hurt and his breathing became a shallow pant, giving him the unsettling feeling that he was suffocating. Made worse by violent coughing spells that left him gagging and gasping with tears of pain in his eyes. Going to the bathroom was an adventure, for just the mere act of trying to stand caused the room to spin and the floor to rock wildly beneath his feet. He had never been so sick before in his life, and he had to admit that it scared him a little.

But if Jim felt the same, he didn’t show it. He merely kept a calm vigil with his friend, religiously administering his medicine and coaxing as much fluid into him as he could. When his fever spiked, Ellison stripped him down and bathed him with cool water until the chills began to assault him. Then he covered him back up and positioned the heating pad over his chest to help ease the pain. The sentinel supported his guide during the coughing fits, holding Kleenex to his lips and encouraging him to cough up the junk in his lungs, rubbing his back reassuringly when he collapsed in an exhausted ball of misery. And he was a pillar of steady strength during those torturous trips to the bathroom. Then when he could do nothing else, Jim merely sat beside him, stroking his damp curls gently and speaking to him in a calm, quiet voice that finally lulled Blair into a deep, dreamless, healing sleep.

Sandburg’s fever broke, but it was a few more days before his temperature returned to normal. His chest still hurt, especially when he inhaled deeply, but it was tolerable and he was breathing much easier. The cough lingered as well, but it was not as ravaging. And while he was fatigued, the dizziness abated and he was able to make it to the bathroom without assistance. He needed rest and care, but he was on the road to recovery so Jim felt comfortable enough to leave him home alone and return to work once the leave that Simon had generously given him to recuperate from the Mexican trip had ended.

It was hard for Blair to stay cooped up in the loft. Weak as he was, he soon became restless with boredom and with the knowledge that he had a lot of work and a lot of catching up to do. But his illness also humbled him. Even though he’d been somewhat out of it during the worst, Sandburg knew that he’d been really sick and that it had been serious. He had no desire to go through that again, and he knew that if he pushed himself before he was ready he would relapse. So he reigned in his impatience and behaved himself, waiting until all of his symptoms were completely gone and all the medication was finished before jumping back into the rigors of his life. He was still somewhat tired, but he figured he was fine to at least go back to Rainier, promising himself that he’d take it easy for a couple of days.

Ellison didn’t share his optimism. He didn’t come right out and say so, but the head shaking and the grumbling under his breath made it all pretty clear. Sandburg sighed, glancing over at his friend, watching him as he cut up the chicken breasts, using a bit more force than necessary. The wall was back up between them. It had been for the last few days. And Blair couldn’t take it anymore. Putting his own knife down and abandoning his vegetables, he turned to face his partner.

“Jim, we need to talk about this.”

“What’s to talk about? You want to go back to Rainier? I can’t stop you.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Blair told him. “We have to talk about this. This thing between us.”

“What’s to talk about?” Ellison repeated quietly, his knife attacking the poultry with even more vehemence.

“It’s not going to go away,” Sandburg pointed out. “No matter how much you want to ignore it. Look, Jim, this whole thing with Alex was just one big disaster. We both screwed up, big time. But I refuse to believe that there’s no way to fix this. I told you before that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get past it. And I don’t just mean doing whatever will placate you. Because I have to tell you, it’s not going to be easy for me to get past the sight of you in a liplock with the woman who murdered me.”

The sentinel flinched and set the knife down, finally turning to face his guide.

“I don’t know... I don’t know why I did that.”

“I know,” Blair assured him. “But I also meant what I said on the plane. I’m not doing this anymore, Jim. If this mess taught us anything, it’s that there’s a lot more to this sentinel stuff than either of us ever dreamed. And I’ve done all I can do with what you’ve given me. I want to help you, but I can’t do that unless you help me. We can figure this out together. God forbid there’s a next time, but if there is and you’re faced with another sentinel, we can be prepared and know how to keep your primal instincts in check so this doesn’t happen again. We can do some preventative maintenance for a change, instead of trying to make repairs as we go along. But you have to let me in, Jim. You have to be open and receptive, and you have to trust me. All the time, not just when you’re in trouble. I can only help you if you give yourself up to me.”

Ellison turned away, moving over to the sink to wash his hands, drying them on the dish towel. When he turned back around, his face was neutral and his blue eyes were veiled.

“I don’t know if I can give you that, Chief.”

“All right,” Blair sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to ask you one simple question. And all you have to say is ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Do you want to call it quits?”

“It isn’t that...”

“Stop,” Sandburg commanded, raising a hand. “There are no conditions or exceptions or gray areas here. ‘Yes’ or ‘no’, Jim. Is it over? Do you want to call it quits?”

“No,” Ellison replied.

“Ok.” Blair took a step closer to his friend, his earnest blue eyes searching his face, not allowing him to evade his gaze. “Then tell me. What DO you want?”

“I just want us to be us again,” Jim whispered.

“I want that, too,” Blair said quietly. “But I don’t know if we can ever get back to where we were before all this started.” They were both silent for long moments as a profound air of sadness descended over the kitchen, and Sandburg realized that perhaps he’d been right before. The wounds were still too raw to be scratched. “Look, why don’t we just take a break for a little bit?”

“What do you mean?”

“I think it would do us both some good to spend a little time in our respective corners. Take a few neutral breaths. I’m going to have to put in some extra hours at Rainier, anyway. I’ve got a lot to catch up on, and next week I’ll be up to my eyeballs in term papers. Then finals are right around the corner. I can still help you out at the station some, if you need me, but for now let’s just give the whole sentinel thing a rest. Then maybe when this term is over we can sit down and decide where to go from here. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Ellison agreed slowly.

“Good.” Blair grinned, giving his friend an affectionate swat on the arm. “And now that we have that settled, get back to work. I’m starving.”

Jim grinned back and retrieved his knife, turning away and letting out a long breath, releasing some of the fear he’d been carrying. It had been a delayed reaction, sneaking up on him when all was said and done, for he hadn’t had the time or the mental capacity to process the chaos as he hurtled through it. Only after it was all over and he had some quiet time to reflect did it hit him, shaking him to his very core. Reason and logic had ceased to exist for him, pushed aside by some mysterious, powerful instinct. It always scared him to lose control, and he was deeply disturbed by the protective drive he’d developed for Alex Barnes, which had been all consuming and rivaled that of the fierce protectiveness he’d thus far reserved for his guide. At the time he couldn’t help what he was doing, but he still felt sick over the irrational passion he’d felt for Alex. The primal lust and need he’d felt for the woman who had callously murdered Sandburg. His guide. His best friend, and the best part of him.

It all paled in comparison to the fear he felt whenever he thought of the morning at the fountain. As he had cared for his ill friend, the ‘what ifs’ invaded his mind for the first time. What if he hadn’t been able to bring Blair back? The thought of losing his guide forever was enough to nearly paralyze him. Yet there he was again, trying his best to comfort his sick friend as the very real possibility of death haunted him once more. They’d made it through that crisis, but the threat hadn’t diminished. Death wasn’t the only thing that could steal his guide away from him. His own stubbornness and pride, and yes, fear, were the greatest threat of all. Blair would leave him, and he’d only have himself to blame.

But his guide’s proposition came as a relief to the sentinel. Not only was it a temporary reprieve, but it was also a voluntary declaration to remove himself from harm’s way. With Blair tucked away behind the university’s walls, he’d be shielded from bullets and knives and blunt objects and kidnappers and drug dealers and gang bangers. He’d be safe. Safe from the weapons and the criminals that could steal him away. Safe from the line of fire. And safe from the sentinel himself.

Sandburg was right. It wasn’t going to go away. And eventually he was going to be forced to deal with everything that had happened. But at least he had a little time to try and deal with his own demons first. To try and find a way to give his guide what he needed. Jim did trust Blair, implicitly. He just needed to learn to trust himself.

Blair glanced up from his veggies as his partner moved beside him, scraping the chunks of chicken off the cutting board and into the skillet. Their talk hadn’t gone quite like the anthropologist had wanted, but it was not without hope. The wall was still there between them, but it had dissolved into a flimsy structure. There would always be a slight tenseness between them, until they were fully able to work through the havoc that Alex had wrought into their lives. But Sandburg was sure that they’d eventually be able to work it all out. They’d been through a rough spot and their friendship had suffered a blow, and they were both to blame for that. Both of them had issues that would need to be dealt with, but Blair vowed he wasn’t going to give up until their relationship was healed. Maybe they never would get back to the place they’d been, but the unbreakable bond between them was solid and strong and there was no reason to think they couldn’t find their way to a new place, maybe even better than before. And recover that easy closeness that had once defined them, with no walls pushing them apart. A place where they could be ‘us’ again.

Finis

Author’s Note: This story continues in the sequel “Walls”, coming soon.

The Sandburg Zone

Cascade Library