Stress Fracture

Missing Scene – Aftermath of Cypher

By Michka_7

15 April 2002

(work in progress)

 

 

“Jim, can I see you in my office, please?”

 

Ellison looked up from his monitor, “yes, Captain.”

 

He walked across the bullpen to Simon’s office and leaned on the table.

 

“Shut the door, Jim.”

 

Jim looked at Simon with raised eyebrows, but shut the door.

 

Simon waved Jim to a chair. “Want some coffee?’

 

“Sure, Simon.”

 

Banks poured a cup for Jim and handed it to him, sitting back down at his desk.  “Where’s the kid today?”

 

“He’s sick.”

 

“Sick? He seemed fine yesterday.”

 

Jim sighed.  “Yeah, well, he had a bad night.”

 

“Delayed stress?”

 

Jim nodded.  “Nausea, nightmares, chills, the whole bit.  He seemed okay until we got in the door.  We stayed at a hotel after the hospital released him, so forensics could go through the loft.  Yesterday, I went back and cleaned up all the fingerprint dust, put everything back into place, fixed what I could, threw out what I couldn’t.  So last night was his first time back. He went through his room, and Lash had taken some stuff besides the clothes; a book he was reading, a letter from his Mom, he was real upset about that, some pictures, a couple little clay animals he’d gotten on a dig somewhere.  It was hard for him, Simon, after having lost so much in the warehouse explosion.  He saw where I’d repaired the door and that sort of threw him. He wanted to know if it was secure, you know.  I got him to sit down and eat something, then we watched a little golf on ESPN, and he seemed to be okay.  To have it under control.  He took a shower and went to bed.  He was up in an hour, feeling nauseous.  He went back to bed and had a nightmare, when I woke him up from that he had chills.  I put him on the couch and treated him for shock.  I fell asleep and the next thing I knew he was sick again.  Pretty much the whole night went like that.”

 

“Who’s with him now?”

 

“No one, he’s probably still asleep.”

 

“Should he be alone?  Doesn’t he have friends you could call to stay with him?”

 

“I don’t know, sir, I don’t know his friends.”  Jim shrugged.

 

“How’re you doing?”

 

“I’m fine.  Little tired, maybe.”

 

Simon nodded.  It wasn’t what he had asked, but Jim always played his emotions pretty close to the vest.   He wouldn’t push it just yet.  He took a deep breath and let it out.  Now for the hard part.  “Jim, I have to reconsider his observer status.”

 

“WHAT?!” Jim stood up straight.  “After everything he’s been through?  Sir, he’s the one who broke this case!”

 

Simon stood too.  “Yeah, by running an undercover interrogation which you specifically told him NOT to do!”

 

“Yes, but it DID pan out!”

 

“It MADE him a TARGET!”

 

“No, sir, it didn’t.”

 

Simon shook his head.  “Jim how can you say that?”

 

“Lash didn’t work that way, Captain.  You didn’t hear what he said to Blair, I DID!  He didn’t choose Blair because he thought he was a threat.  He chose him because he admired him, thought he was hip, smart and funny and liked his girlfriend!”

 

“Okay, okay,” Simon made a placating gesture with his hands.  “But you can’t deny that Lash only came into contact with Sandburg because he was in the department.  You can’t deny that you would have had a good chance at catching Lash if Sandburg hadn’t been at the church with you.”

 

“What about what he did with Kincaid?”

 

“He almost got himself killed then too!”

 

“Maybe, but he kept himself alive, and he took out two of Kincaid’s men.  And what about the Juno case?”

 

“Jim, I DID pull his credentials on the Juno case!”

 

“He saved Beverly Sanchez’s life, Simon!”

 

“Yes, Detective, but any cop could have done that.”

 

“Anyone could, but Sandburg DID.”

 

“Look, Jim, I’m not saying the kid hasn’t done good.  I’m just saying he’s not trained, and he shouldn’t be put in these situations.   I think it would be better for everyone if you did this Sentinel thing with him outside the station on your own time.”

 

“Better for everyone, Captain?  Maybe you should ask Earl Gaines if it would be better for his grandmother?  Sandburg went in there and organized those people and saved that woman’s life!”

 

Simon paused, took another deep breath and sat down.  “All right, Jim, I understand that he’s been an asset to the department, and I agree with you.”

 

Jim continued to stand, looking wary.

 

“But what about him?” Simon continued.  “He’s been taken hostage, shot at, kidnapped, drugged.  Do you really think being your ride-along is the best thing for him?”

 

Jim’s stance relaxed, somewhat.  “I think that’s up to him, sir.”

 

“Well, the department has some responsibility here, Jim.”

 

“Then why did the department require Sandburg to sign at least ten different releases saying that it doesn’t?”

 

“Damn it, Jim, the kid is going to end up dead if you don’t cut him loose!”

 

“If you’re really that worried about his well-being then you should think twice about what you’re doing here!”  Jim closed his eyes, took a second to calm himself, then sat down.  “Simon, Blair’s in bad shape right now, real bad shape.  You tell him you’re pulling his ride, it’ll crush him.”

 

Simon gave along sigh and rubbed his forehead.  He could tell this was going to be the grandmother of all headaches.  “Okay, Jim, what do you want to do, here?”

 

“Just leave his status as is, sir.   When Blair’s up to it, let him decide.”

 

“And if he decides to continue to be your observer?”

 

“Let him.”

 

Simon stood up and walked over to his window, looking out at the city.  “Jim, I didn’t want to have to put it this way, but the Commissioner and the Mayor have been all over me about this.  Saving the life of a police observer sounds great on the news, but it doesn’t play so well in the front office.  They want to know why a police observer was involved in the first place, and they DON’T want it happening again.  And, after what happened on the Juno case, they know the name Blair Sandburg, so when they found out it was him on the Lash case too,” Simon shook his head without completing the thought. “They want him OUT, Jim.”

 

Jim sat back, his temples started to pound.  “Oh, shit.”

 

Simon didn’t feel the need to answer that.

 

“What are the options, sir?”

 

Simon looked at his friend.  “You’re sure you can’t do this without him?”

 

“He stays.”

 

“Well . . . we can pull his credentials now and send the form to the Commissioner’s office.  He’ll sign off on it and send it to the Mayor.  That’ll make them happy.  Then, if Sandburg wants to come back, I’ll authorize it, personally, and it’ll go straight into the files.  With any luck, they’ll never know he’s back.”

 

“And if they do find out, it’s your job, Simon.”

 

“I need you on my team, Jim.  If you need Sandburg, then I guess I need him too.”

 

Jim acknowledged that with a short nod.  “And we don’t have to tell Sandburg.”

 

“I think he’ll wonder why he has to fill out all the forms again.”

 

“I’ll tell him the paperwork got lost.”

 

“You think he’ll buy that?”

 

“Wouldn’t you?”

 

Simon laughed.  “In this place, yeah I’d buy it.”

 

Jim smiled too.  “So that’s settled.”

 

Banks took a drink of his cooling coffee.  “Yeah, that’s settled.  Now we can get to the real bad news.”

 

“There’s more?” Jim chuckled.

 

“Jim, IA might do an investigation on the Lash case.”

 

Jim hadn’t thought he could be more shocked, but he was.  “IA? Simon, what the hell?”

 

“They think that five shots at that range constitutes excessive force.”

 

“Excessive force! Simon that guy survived a jump into a river with currents that could have sucked him down in a second!  He’d already killed four people, including his brother, and he was in the process of killing another! How can they say that?”

 

“He was unarmed, Jim.”

 

“He tried to kill Blair!”

 

Simon looked at Jim oddly.  “How involved with this kid are you?”

 

Jim took obvious offence.  “What do you mean involved, sir?” He asked coldly.

 

Simon gave him an impatient look.  “I just mean you seem to have taken to him awfully fast and Jim, you just don’t do that ordinarily.  Is it this Sentinel stuff or what?   Two months ago, you never even heard of the kid, now he’s here with you almost everyday, he’s living at your place, it’s not like you, Jim.  How much do you really know about this guy?”

 

“He’s a grad student who teaches at Rainier.”

 

“Jim.” Simon was becoming exasperated.

 

“I told you before, Captain, Sandburg understands what I’m going through.  I know he’s on the level.  He’s not scamming me about this doctorate thing.  He’s helping me out with my senses.  I went to all the doctors, took all the tests and it got me zip.  He’s the ONLY one who can help me get a handle on this.  “ Jim’s pager went off, he pulled it out of his back pocket.

 

555 1410 911

 

Jim grabbed for Simon’s phone and began dialing.

 

“What is it?” Simon asked.

 

“Blair.” Jim answered.

 

As soon as the phone rang, Blair picked it up.

 

“What’s wrong, Chief?”

 

“Jim, listen, I think he, I mean, I think someone’s trying to get in!”  Blair’s voice was a study in barely controlled panic.

 

Jim’s voice took on a quality Simon had never heard before, something like tenderness.  “Tell me exactly what’s happening, Blair.”

 

“I think I saw a shadow cross the skylights, and then I heard a kind of thumping sound.”

 

“Was it at the door?”

 

“No, not yet, but I think he’s on the roof, man!” Blair’s voice broke on the word roof.

 

“All right, now Blair, I want you to listen to me.  I want you to go into your room and shut the door. I’m on my way now.  You got that?”

 

“No, Jim, I can’t go in there! He’s been in there, he can get in there again!.”

 

“Calm down, Chief.  Now you know it’s not Lash, right?”

 

“Right, Jim, but, maybe –“

 

“No, no way, Blair.  He’s still right here in the morgue.”

 

“Did you check, Jim?”

 

“Yeah, Chief, I checked.”

 

“Okay, okay, sorry, Jim.  I guess I’m kinda freaking out here.”

 

“It’s all right.  Do you still hear the noise?”

 

“ . . . I think so.”

 

“Listen.  Can you hear it or not?”

 

“I think so . . . I can’t tell for sure.  Jim, I’d better just get out of here.”

 

“NO!  No, Sandburg, don’t do that.  You stay where you are.  I’ll be home in a bit.”

 

Simon pressed a note into Jim’s hand.

 

Get Him Some Counseling

 

Jim nodded, still listening.

 

“Are you in the truck?”

 

“Uh, no, I’m in Simon’s office, I’m on his phone.”

 

“You haven’t LEFT yet?” Blair’s panic was evident.

 

“No, but I’m leaving now, Chief, really.”  Jim pulled out his cell phone and dialed his home number.

 

“Jim, I don’t think I can just wait here for him to break in.”

 

“No, I know, just sit tight.”  Jim heard the line momentarily go dead, informing Blair that he had another incoming call.  “Sandburg, pick up the other call, it’s me on my cell, then I can hang up Simon’s phone and get out of here, okay?”

 

Click Clack Click

 

“Okay.”

 

Jim heard the voice on his cell phone.  He put Simon’s phone down, not bothering to hang it up and walked out the door.

 

Simon shook his head and hit the hook, releasing the line.  Then he punched in *5 2 4 and asked if unpaid observers qualified for sessions with the department psychologist.

 

 

“Jim?”

 

“Yeah, I’m here, Chief.   I’m in the garage.  I’m getting into the truck right now.”

 

Blair heard the door slam and the motor start.  “Jim, I’m gonna go get your gun.”

 

“NO, BLAIR! DON’T TOUCH IT!”

 

“But I need-“

 

“NO, Blair.  You listen to me. I’m on Channing, I’ll be home before you know it.  Don’t go near the gun, Chief.  You pick up the gun and somebody’s gonna get hurt.  You know that.  And I don’t really want to get my head blown off for walking through my own front door.”

 

“ . . . okay, Jim.”

 

“Good, good.  Now I’m at the light on First.  I’ll be home any minute.”

 

“Jim, we’d better hang up, man.  You shouldn’t talk on the phone and drive at the same time, it’s dangerous.”

 

Jim smiled.  “I think it’ll be okay just this once, Chief.”

 

“No, really, you could get distracted and have an accident or something.”

 

“I’m not going to get into an accident, Sandburg.”

 

“Yes, you could, Jim.”  Suddenly all of the fear and insecurity left Blair’s voice.  “There are studies being done right now that track the incidents of accidents caused by or related to cell phone use.  A Harvard sociologist posits that within five years the rate of accidents caused by cell phone use will surpass that of accidents caused by alcohol and drugs due to the prevalence of phone use while driving.  Probably a tenth of all the drivers on the road right now  are multi-tasking and you’re one of them.”

 

“Look, Sandburg, I can drive and talk at the same time, okay?  A trained chimp could drive and talk at the same time!”

 

“You THINK you can, but see, that’s the danger.  You think you’re fine and before you know it you’re completely distracted and BANG you’re somebody’s hood ornament!”

 

“I am not going to be somebody’s hood ornament.”

 

“Well, if you’re not going to hang up, I will!”

 

“SANDBURG! Don’t you DARE!”

 

The connection was broken.

 

Jim didn’t worry too much.  He was less than fifteen minutes from home, and Sandburg was in a much better state of mind.  He doubted he would go for the gun, or leave the loft, which was Jim’s biggest fear.

 

When Jim did enter the loft, Blair was in the kitchen, cooking.

 

“Hey, Jim, how does chicken stir-fry sound for lunch?”

 

“Sounds good, Chief.”  Jim said, hanging his jacket on a hook.  “Heard any more noise?”

 

Blair ducked his head, embarrassed.  “Uh, no.  Sorry about that, Jim.  I’m getting a little paranoid, here.  I shouldn’t have called you at work, man.  Sorry.”

 

Jim wondered if cooking was Sandburg’s general means of apology.  “It’s okay.  I don’t have any other cases right now.  Simon gave me the day off.”  That was sort of a lie, but then Simon hadn’t tried to stop him, and that was as good as permission.

 

“Yeah?  That’s great.  I know you didn’t get much rest last night.  Sorry about that too, by the way.” Blair gave a little laugh that Jim was coming to realize meant he was nervous.

 

Blair checked the rice and added the chicken to the wok.  “You want a beer, man?”

 

“Little early for that, Chief.  Toss me a water.”

 

“Okay,” Blair said.  He threw the water to Jim while he surreptitiously hid his half empty beer bottle on a shelf under the stove.

 

Jim caught the water, and saw the beer, but said nothing.  He walked into the kitchen and washed his hands.  Drying them with a paper towel he moved over to the trash basket to throw it away.  He noticed two beer bottles in the recycling bin which hadn’t been there this morning.  Sandburg rarely drank more than two in an evening.  He was already on his third.  Not good.