A story inspired by the MISSING Series of Photomanips
Helen
by
Bettie BrownSPOILERS: TSbyBS
DISCLAIMER: The Usual
RATING: NC-17
SEQUEL: Sequel to Cassandra based on the Michka's Missing photos
WARNINGS: Some bad language and sexual themes (this is gen.) Probably contains canon and fanon mistakes, just consider this series AU.
**** ***** ***** Devastation. Utter, complete devastation. And I'm responsible. I stood by and let it happen.
Jim Ellison sat on the couch in Simon Banks' office with his head in his hands, lamenting the loss of his partnership. He no longer resembled the ex-ranger, bad-ass detective; who had been known to scare confessions out of the most hardened criminals with just a look. No. Now he looked liked a four year old who had lost everything in the world he held dear.
And perhaps he had.
Captain Simon Banks, equally bad-assed, now resembled a myopic fish. His mouth kept opening and closing, but no words of comfort issued forth. There were no words for the inconsolable. Finally, he gave up and just looked away from Ellison and straight at me. He gave a little start then. I think he forgot I was still present. Witness to destruction of what everyone else in Major Crimes thought was indestructible. The friendship and partnership of Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. Major Crimes premier detective duo.
Now torn asunder.
Simon's eyes pleaded with me to help him. To come up with some kind of platitude to diffuse the situation. Or at the very least provide some kind of comfort. I just shrugged my shoulders, shook my head and remained mute.
You, Joel Taggert, are an abject coward.
While I was castigating myself, all 6 feet 4 inches of Simon Banks squatted down in front of his distraught friend. "We'll figure something out Jim. We always do".
Ellison raised his head and gazed into his friend's face, searching it with a hope that was so pathetic, I had to turn away. "I don't think we can this time, Simon." His voice sounded so young and frightened, I had to turn back to assure myself it was indeed Ellison who had spoken.
He looked so lost. I made a step away from the door, but Simon reached out and drew Ellison into a hug, comforting Jim Ellison like the lost child he appeared to be. Once again I had to tear my eyes away and give them some much needed privacy.
As I started to back out of the room, my foot touched something on the floor. It was the MISSING poster.
Sixteen year old Blair Sandburg stared up at me from the poster wearing an enigmatic smile. Such an innocent, beautiful face. The face of someone you couldn't help but want to protect and keep safe.
I picked it up and studied it for a moment, then squared my shoulders in resolve. Skirting around the two friends, I placed the poster on Simon's desk then quickly left the office. There was work to be done.
Paris lay dead in the rubble of what once had been the magnificent city of Troy. But what of Helen?
It was time to suck it up and face up to my responsibility and seek out the other partner. I was going to try and repair the irreparable.
**************** Helen of Troy. The face that launched a thousands ships.
In all of Greek mythology, for me, Helen of Troy was the greatest enigma. Was she a pathetic victim or duplicitous bitch? Did she love Paris or was she his unwilling captive? Bimbo or intellectual? Depends on your source.
If you go by history; Helen wasn't that great a beauty. It was believed that the war was started to get her back because her brilliance at governing was the only thing keeping her kingdom together. Menelaus wanted his wife back to save his kingdom. Paris kidnapped Helen for her mind, not her body. A Greek man of that time, interested in a woman for brains rather than beauty. Whoa, what a unique concept.
Myth corrects Paris' oversight by painting the picture of a woman who was part-Goddess, (Another human child of Zeus, King of the Gods. The guy just couldn't keep it in his pants) part Playboy centerfold. No brains need apply. She went with Paris because she was told to by the Gods, love had nothing to do with it. She was a kewpie doll prize given to Paris for choosing Aphrodite in a beauty contest. A walking, not necessarily talking, wet dream that did what she was told, when she was told. Hey what can you expect, these myths where made up by guys. You know what we usually use to do our thinking.
The more artistically bent of the Greeks have varying opinions.
Euripides portrayed Helen in his play "The Trojan Women" as a heartless bitch, who bathed in front of women who were dying of thirst and pleading with their captors for water. Not her finest hour.
She faired better with the poet Stesichorus, who had an entirely different interpretation of the legend. According to him, Helen never made it to Troy. She and Paris got as far as Egypt, where Helen remained as guest of King Proteus. Paris was tricked into taking a construct with him to Troy. I guess that's where the Barbie doll Helen came from. No brain, no pain. (Euripides later stole this idea and used it in his play, "Helen." Probably trying to make up for trashing her rep in "The Trojan Women."). After Troy fell she was reunited with her husband.
**************** When I first met Sandburg, it was at the scene of a bombing. I was trying to get the statement of what I thought was just another shell-shocked near victim of the Switchman. He was shaking like a leaf in a strong wind and talking a mile of minute. Most of the info he was giving had nothing to do with the bombing. After a while, I was only half listening, then he mentioned Ellison and how he was his partner. My head snapped up so fast, I thought I had sprained my neck. Jim 'Lone Wolf' Ellison with a partner. No way.
I took in his long hair, earrings, and grunge clothing and thought to myself, this kid must be delusional or suffering from PTSD. No hippie want-to-be could be Ellison's partner. I was wrong.
When next we met, Kincaid and his men were taking over the precinct. And that hyperactive hippie; with the smart mile-a-minute mouth, saved my life.
In the enigma department, Blair Sandburg makes Helen of Troy seem an open book.
**************** To save myself time, I thought I'd check out the obvious place to find Sandburg and go to the loft. Lucky on the first try. Maybe the Gods were with me. Or maybe fortune was favoring the foolish, either worked for me.
Sandburg opened the door on the eighth knock, but I think my pleading "Please Blair," over and over again like a lovestruck Romeo under Juliet's balcony, helped. (What can I say, I had a well-rounded education.)
"Did Jim send you?" He asked. Cautiously peering beyond me, searching for the big man himself.
"No. I sent myself. Don't bother looking, he's not here." I couldn't swear to it, but I think his eyes flickered with disappoint for a moment before returning to feigned indifference.
"Whatever," he said with shrug and back away from the door to allow me entry. "Why are you here, Joel?"
"Good question."
"That's why I asked it"
"You always do."
"Do what?"
"Ask good questions. Of course you usually know the answers as well so I guess...."
"JOEL!" Sandburg interrupted me mid ramble. I have been spending way too much time with Sandburg, I'm starting to spout off at the mouth just like him. Next thing you know...
"JOEL!" Damn, I drifted off topic again. From the looks Sandburg was giving me, I knew he'd caught me at it. He was trying his best to look stern, but a slightly amused smile was pushing it's way free.
"Sorry."
"You're forgiven."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome." He held up his hand. "Enough stalling, Joel. Why are you here?" I took a deep breath and tried to organize my thoughts.
"May I have a seat, this might take a while to explain?"
"Oh I'm sorry, sure." After we situated ourselves comfortably on the couch, I cleared my throat and started my explanation.
"First, I have to ask you a question." Blair rolled his eyes and started to speak. " I'm not trying to stall I swear, I just need for you to answer my question."
"Okay, but only one question."
"Deal. Uh...are you and Ellison still partners?"
Sandburg dipped his head and hid behind his long, dark curls.
"Blair?" I tried to keep the pleading in my voice to a minimum.
"idontknow," he mumbled softly. The words running together.
"What?"
"I said. I. Don't. Know."
"Why not?"
"I just don't."
"You're a smart guy, Blair. This question shouldn't be that hard to answer. There are only two possibilities: yes, or no."
"I...I don't think so." Though stated softly, the words rang out loud and clear in the room. A death knell.
"Why, Blair?" I reached over and gently tilted his face so he could look me in the eye. "Why can't you forgive Jim this time?
Sandburg shot from the couch like a rocket and began to pace in front of the coffee table, then he stopped. When next he spoke, I was unprepared for the fury of his words. "Because that's all I ever do! He fucks up, blames me and I forgive him. He misinterprets something I say, tears me a new one and I forgive him. He kicks me out of the loft..." His voice faltered. "He kicks me out of the loft. I DIE! And I forgive him." Like puppet with his strings cut, he returned to the couch and plopped down. Then barely audible he said, "I give up my life, go to the academy, become his gun-toting permanent partner and it's not enough. He snoops into my personal life; finds out something about my past it never occurred to me he needed to know. He calls me a . . . he questions my sexual orientation embarrassing me in front of you and Simon; and I'm supposed forgive him. Well, I don't think so. Not this time. He crossed the line, Joel. He crossed the line.
"What am I, his personal punching bag? I am tired of verbally tiptoeing around the mighty James Ellison waiting for the next emotional booby-trap to go off. I can't deal with his fear-based responses and issues of trust anymore.
"I have nothing left to give."
Now I had to move. Put some distance between us, so I could think. Somehow I ended up by the balcony. Yeah, fresh air, that's what I needed.
Before I could make my escape I hear Blair's voice, "why are you here, Joel?
Without turning to face him I confess, "it wasn't Jim who found the poster, it was me. I wasn't trying to snoop into your personal life. Hell, I didn't even know what I had." I finally turn to face my inadvertent victim. Blair is still on the couch, his body drawn into itself trying to become as small as possible. He looks so lost.
"Jason Boyd, that's the new captain of the bomb squad and an old friend, called me down the finally clear out my things from his office. The poster was among my old files. I used to play armchair detective in those days. I never meant to cause any pain. Honest. You're like a son to me, Blair. I would never knowingly hurt you.
"When I saw the file, I didn't think. I went straight to Ellison and asked him why he didn't tell me about it. I didn't stop to think, that maybe, he didn't know. It happened over ten years ago and maybe you wanted it to stay in the past. I'm the one that betrayed your trust. I'm the one you should be angry with. Not Ellison. Not your partner, Blair. Please, reconsider. Please give your partnership a second chance. This is all my fault, Blair. I'm so sorry. I never meant.... God, I so sorry."
Suddenly Blair's arms were around me. "You didn't do anything wrong, Joel. None of this is your fault."
"But it is. If I hadn't -"
"Forget about it, Joel. That's not the reason the partnership is over."
"What?" I was very confused at this point. "I thought, that you thought, that Jim snooped into your past without your permission and that's why you're splitting up."
"I'll admit I thought he had invaded my privacy, but that's not the true reason I want out."
"Then why, Blair?" He stepped away from me then and hugged his arms to his chest.
"Because Jim doesn't trust me and he never will."
"That's not true, Blair. You're his partner, he trusts you with his life everyday. You're his best friend. Dammit, Blair! You guys are joined at the hip. In all my years as a cop, I've very seen a more trusting partnership. You guys are perfect together."
An ugly sound came from Blair and it took me a moment to recognize it as a bitter laugh.
"I'm the last person Jim would trust."
"Are we talking about that mess with your diss, about you calling yourself a fraud? Because if we are, I've go tell you that by now you should realize none of believed that bullshit about you being a fraud. And that elephant in the bull pen will stay ignored until you guys are ready to tell us what's going on."
"Aw, Joel." Unshed tears glittered in his eyes when he looked at me. "I . . . it's not my secret to tell."
"I figured as much. No problem. I don't know about you, but I'm a little thirsty. You got any beer?"
"Yeah, sure," he said. Grateful to have something to do, he crossed over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of beers. He indicated the couch and I moved over to join him there. We both used the few moments it took to open our drinks and take a much needed swig to get our thoughts together.
"This is great beer," I ventured into the silence.
"Yeah." After only a small swallow, Blair began to unconsciously play with the bottle's label.
"Real cold, just the way I like it."
"Yeah."
"Is this one of those microbrews?"
"Uh huh."
"Thought so."
Silence.
"Yeah, real tasty."
I took a long gulp then, this conversation was going nowhere fast.
"'Scuse me a minute, Joel." Sandburg placed his beer on the coffee table, rose quickly and entered his room.
Now what? I could hear him moving things around. "Are you okay in there, need any help?"
"Nah, I'm fine." The rummaging continued.
"I just realized, neither one of us has had anything to eat for dinner. You want me to order something?" I called to the occupied Sandburg.
"I'm not really that hungry." He yelled back, still moving things in his room, obviously trying to find something important.
"You gotta eat something. Is pizza okay?"
"What happened to your diet?"
"This is a special occasion, I can make an exception."
"What special occasion?"
"I have a friend who needs me." The rummaging stopped.
"Pizza's fine, Joel. Just make mine vegetarian."
"You got it." He returned to his search and I placed our pizza orders. As soon as I hung up the phone Sandburg emerged from his room with his sought after prize.
It was another copy of his MISSING poster. Damn.
I shifted nervously on the couch, then placed my now empty beer bottle on the table. Wordlessly, Blair took the empty bottles to the kitchen, rinsed them, then placed them in the recycle bin. He then sat directly in front of me on the coffee table. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire and I was ensnared by them.
After searching my face for an intense few seconds, the longest of my life; he cleared his throat to speak.
"When you look at me, Joel, what do you see?" Of all the questions I had been steeling myself for, this wasn't one of them. However, judging from the tenseness of Blair's body everything was riding on my answer. So looked closer at the man seated in front of me.
Though his hair was still long,(He wasn't kidding when he told Jim and Simon he wasn't going to cut when he went to the academy. He found a loophole in the rules and kept his hair.) he usually wore ii pulled back in a ponytail. Not loose they way he was wearing it now. The earrings were long gone. As were the grunge clothes. While not GQ, Blair was dressing more conservatively these days.
The lines around his eyes were deeper and the frown lines seemed to out number the smile lines these days.
He was so still now. Tigger was gone. He still had more energy than any four people, but it was more focused.
But it was his eyes that truly told the story. The spark was, not gone, but subdued, dampened. Dull. Innocence and optimism no longer shown from them. Now the were full of weary acceptance.
Oh Blair, what have we done to you.
"When I look at you I see...my friend."
He smiled then, but it wasn't the super nova one of the past. This one was more an ironic grin. "Nicely avoided, Joel." He waved me quiet when I started to protest. "Okay, what was your impression of me when we first met?"
It was my turn to smile as I remembered the barely contained dynamo of the past. "I thought you were hippie wanna be that had drank one latte too many, " I answered honestly.
Blair laughed then. Not the self-depreciating chuckle of late. But a full-throated laugh that rivaled the ones of old. It was genuine, not jaded. "Took me years to cultivate that image. Or should I say re-cultivate.
"I was only sixteen years old when I started at Rainier." Blair brought the poster he was holding closer to his face and traced the face with an index finger. "Naomi stuck around long enough to get me registered for classes and settled in the dorms. Then she was off to a retreat in Big Sur. She said she had to process the lost of her baby in order to become more comfortable with the man I was becoming." He shrugged a shoulder then, as if to say, you know Naomi. "By then I was use to taking care of myself, so it was no big deal. She left me information on how to contact her in case of emergencies. Besides, I was too excited about finally being at Rainier.
"I've been interested in Anthropology since I was a twelve and Rainier had the one of the best Anthro programs in the whole country. I was lucky to get in. My scholarship and loans covered my first year expenses and I was used to managing my money so I knew I could make it." Part of the old enthusiasm was leaking through as Sandburg reminisced about the past.
"Learning about other cultures and teaching was all I wanted to do. It's what I was born to do." The longing in his voice broke my heart.
I reached out to take his hand, to comfort him, but he drew back. "It's okay, Joel. I've let it go. That was then, this is now." Blair stood up and walked toward the balcony, leaving the poster behind and peered out the glass doors. When next he spoke, I think it was to himself. My presence seemed forgotten.
"I've always been an outsider. Our moving around so much, while adventurous, negated the building of lasting friendships. No sooner would I get to know someone, then Naomi got wanderlust and we were off again to some new city or new country we hadn't seen before.
"Make no mistake, I had a blast growing up with the world as my classroom. Each new place just broadened my horizons, slaked my thirst for knowledge.
"But I had no home. No real friends, just acquaintances. And after to some of our less than stellar experiences, I learned to be wary. Jim's not the only one with trust issues.
"I convinced Naomi, I had a better chance at a scholarship if I spent my entire senior year of high school in one place. It was the longest time we'd stayed anywhere.
"Then I worked on trying to fit in. I cut my hair and started wear less . . . flamboyant clothing. First rule of anthropology, become part of the tribe.
"It worked. I was accepted. I belonged. And all my teachers wrote letters of recommendation for me to Rainier. In spite of my age, I was immediately enrolled in the fall term.
"The first few months were difficult. I was at least two years younger that everyone and way shorter. If you think I'm vertically challenged now, you should have seen me then. I was three inches shorter. Hey, I was still growing.
"Things settled down, I made a few friends. Some of those jocks on the football team. They were very protective of the 'little professor' who tutored them through the introductory courses. Not everyone was thrilled with me, I threw off the curve. My friends keep me safe.
"At least for a while.
"I made a mistake. I began to trust again. And I trusted the wrong person.
"What did you see when you looked at the poster?" It took me a moment to realize Blair was speaking to me, instead of himself. He was now facing my direction but remained by the balcony doors.
Great, a pop quiz and me without a clue. Just what was it Blair was getting at? I picked up the poster. The picture hadn't changed. A young Sandburg still stared up at me. What was I missing? Please God, now that the kid is willing to talk, don't let me blow this. Crossing my fingers, I dared to hope honesty was the best policy in this situation. "I see a beautiful young boy full of hope, promise, and innocence. Someone with a bright future ahead of them. Someone special." Someone that needed to be nurtured and protected, I added to myself.
"Beautiful. Innocent. That's what he said."
"Who are we talking about?"
"Jarvis. Jarvis Armbrewster. He was a professor of mine. No, he was more than that. I looked up to him. He took me under his wing. Eli Stoddard was my anthropology advisor and I really respected him, but Jarvis was different. He was like a father to me.
"He was also responsible for my kidnapping and planned on selling me to one of his pedophiliac friends.
"Or to quote Jarvis 'A virgin brings top dollar, but one as exotic and intelligent as you will be worth millions in certain circles.'"
"God, Blair. I'm so sorry." Visions of me bashing Armbrewster's head in filled my inner vision and I had to practically sit on my hands to prevent them from balling into fists. Then Blair was seated next to me on the couch. He took my hands in his and opened my palms before I gouged them with my nails.
"Relax, Joel. It was a long time ago and Jarvis paid for his crimes."
"Did he . . . hurt you?" He dropped my hands and turned to once again face the balcony doors, his arms hugged to his chest.
"No. Personally 'sampling' the merchandise would have decreased my value. Jarvis was a lech, but he was a greedy one. He wasn't going to loose millions just to scratch an itch. No matter how tempting."
"How can you talk about this so matter of factly, Blair. Sure it happened years ago, but it did happen. Don't you feel anything! Why aren't you angry?"
"I AM ANGRY, OKAY!" No longer able to restrain himself, Blair once again shot off the couch to pace about the living room. Hands waving about in the air. "What happened made my life a living hell."
"After the arrests were made, word got out about the nature of Professor Armbrewster's extracurricular activities, some of the students and teachers on campus put two and two together and pegged me for Jarvis' boy toy.
"I can still hear the catcalls and whistles. Girls who I wanted to date, just laughed in my face. I even lost my protectors. They couldn't afford to be 'guilty by association'."
"You could have told them..."
"Told them what?" he interrupted angrily. "That I wasn't gay? I didn't swing that way? Has my dating everything in a skirt at the station stopped the rumors about Jim and me?" At that pronouncement, I had the good grace to feel embarrassed. I'd heard the rumors to. I'd even considered the possibility of them being true before I got to know Blair better.
"I was a sixteen year old virgin. There was no one to step forward and vouche for my being straight. Besides, I was taught that gender didn't matter. I didn't want to validate their world view."
"So what did you do?"
"I went to class. Turned in my assignments and hid in my room when possible. But that didn't stop the harassment. I had to change dorms twice. Finally Eli Stoddard came to my rescue.
"He was putting together an expedition to Borneo and acted as my guardian so I could go. We were gone the entire winter and spring semesters.
"While we were there I turned seventeen, let my hair grow out, lost my virginity and grew to the dizzying height of 5 feet, 8 inches. I had also developed the reputation of being somewhat 'randy' with the girls." He smiled then, a thousand watter. "What can I say, sex was GREAT and I couldn't get enough of it."
"As Simon would say, way too much information, Sandburg." And I can't help myself I smile back at him.
"By the time we returned to the States I was back to being myself; Blair Sandburg, hippie kid and damn proud of it."
"Good for you." Blair settled back down beside me. Something for which I was eternally grateful. I was getting a sore neck from watching him pace back and forth.
"There were still those that questioned my sexuality, but now, with my newfound preoccupation with the fairer sex, I was too busy dating to care."
Suddenly I had an epiphany. "So when Jim shoved that poster under your nose and said . . . what he said. He brought it all back."
"Yeah." Oh no, back the one word answers. As I watched, Sandburg began to draw in on himself. Using his hair as a barrier between us.
I gently grabbed his shoulders and pivoted him in my direction. "Look, Blair. I don't pretend to know all that's going on between you and Ellison right now. But I do know you two are meant to be together. You're more than partners. You're brothers. Not by blood. But by choice. And no one can push your buttons harder than family."
"But family forgives."
"Yeah, I know, we're back to the forgiveness thing. You said so yourself, Ellison is all about fear-based responses. Let me tell you when Jim saw that poster he was scared shitless and coming up with all kinds of scenarios running through his head. None of them good.
"I know there's no excuse for what he said, but you know he didn't mean it. He tried to apologize, remember." Blair pulled his hair behind his ears.
"But he doesn't trust me, Joel."
"I've always trusted you, Chief." We both started at Ellison's voice. When did he get here?
"There's no one on this earth I trust more, including myself." Ellison was standing just inside the door and had eyes only for Sandburg. Blair moved toward the brother of his heart without conscious thought.
That was my clue to leave. Besides I don't think I was even a blip on their radar.
"I'll leave you two to settle things. Good night fellas."
Blair broke contact with Jim just long enough to see me to the door. "Thanks for everything, Joel. Don't worry we'll be fine."
"Do you mean it," Jim questioned hopefully.
"Yeah," Blair replied. "I think so."
I eased open the door to make good my escape. As I was closing the door I took a final glance back. Blair went to the coffee table, picked up the poster and handed it to Ellison. "Jim, there's something I should tell you..." I closed the door. What came next was for them alone.
The pizza delivery guy was just getting to the apartment as I was leaving. I paid and left.
I didn't need all those calories anyway. Whistling a happy tune I headed for home.
The End
**** ***** *****
