by Beth Manz
"No!" Blair cried out as they drew closer. "You can't. You can't!"
Grant simply laughed and, slipping an arm around Sandburg's waist, dragged him forward.
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Jim groaned as awareness slowly seeped back into his mind and body. He rolled onto his side and then lay still, confused at the strange, tingling sensation that was coursing through him. Pushing past the fogginess in his mind, he tried to remember where he was. He extended his hearing, surveying his surroundings, and instantly, a sound--fast, furious--pounded in his ears.
No. It can't be!
He opened his eyes, scanning the ground for the tape recorder. He remembered everything now--Grant was here and he had a recording of Blair's heartbeat. Jim sat up and looked around him. He found the device just a few feet away, broken into several pieces. The sound he was hearing, then--Blair's frantic heartbeat --was coming from somewhere else. Oh, please don't let it be another recording, he prayed silently.
He pushed to his feet, his gaze searching desperately across the cemetery, looking for... Blair! A feeling of pure, heart-wrenching relief washed through Jim at the sight of his guide. He stumbled forward a few steps, his limbs weak, his breath coming in stunned gasps.
He's alive. He's alive!
But as he watched, Jim realized that Grant was dragging his struggling partner toward the railing of an old bridge. Blair's pleas, along with the sound of rushing water, reached his ears. Clearly, the doctor planned to dump Blair into the raging waters that flowed beneath the bridge.
And with the realization of what Grant intended to do came the recognition of an equally chilling fact: Jim would never be able to reach the two men in time to save his partner...
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Blair twisted and yanked and pulled. He braced his heels against the ground and pushed backward. He jerked his wrists, fighting at the tape that was keeping him helpless. A cry of frustration escaped him as he realized that no matter how hard he fought, he could not get free.
"Do you have to make this so damn difficult," Grant complained through gritted teeth as he forced Blair closer and closer to the railing of the bridge.
Out of the corner of his eye, Blair saw Grant pull the stun gun from his pocket. Cold fear clutched his heart. He touches me with that thing and I'm dead. He renewed his struggles, his gaze locked on the small instrument as a current of electricity danced across the top... and the device was moved closer to his chest.
"No!"
With a sudden burst of strength born from panic and fright, Blair pulled out of the doctor's grip, swung around and rammed into him with his shoulder, knocking him away. Grant flailed backward and impacted with the railing behind him. Unbalanced, the doctor's body hit hard. He seemed to teeter there a long moment, then his eyes grew wide as a loud crack reverberated through the crisp autumn air. The unstable wood gave way, and Dr. Marcus Grant screamed in terror as he fell away from the bridge, down into the rapids below.
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Jim staggered to a halt. He watched, unable to move or call out, as Blair weaved unsteadily in front of the broken bridge railing, staring down into the rushing water.
If Blair falls into that river.... Jim swallowed against a sudden swell of emotions--he knew he was still too far away to help his friend. "Blair!" he shouted, hoping to gain Sandburg's attention.
But his partner didn't turn, didn't appear to hear him. Did not move away from the edge of the bridge. Jim started toward him again and as he drew closer, he reached out with his senses to monitor his friend. He could hear Blair's elevated heartbeat and panicked breaths, could see his pale, drawn face, could almost feel the cold that was making him shiver uncontrollably.
"Blair!" Jim shouted again as he increased his pace. This time, Blair turned his head slowly at the sound of his name being called, and his eyes locked with Jim's. His gaze was distant at first, dazed by terror and shock, but within seconds recognition warmed the blue depths. The detective saw Sandburg's face crumple in relief, saw tears form in his eyes, saw his lips silently form Jim's name.
Jim kept up his pace toward his friend, but held his breath as Blair swayed for a moment and fell heavily against the railing on the left side of the bridge. Sandburg faltered for a moment, then managed to regain his balance and push away from the rail. Then his gaze again met Jim's and he took a few faltering steps in the sentinel's direction.
"Blair," Jim repeated his partner's name, quietly this time as Sandburg staggered off the small bridge and collapsed heavily against him, into his arms. "Chief," he whispered into his hair as he lowered himself to the ground, drawing his partner down with him. The detective enveloped the smaller man protectively within his embrace, pulling him close and cradling him against his chest.
"Are you all right?" Jim panted out as he instinctively tightened his hold on his guide. "Tell me you're all right."
Jim's only answer was a slight nodding of Blair's head where it lay against his shoulder. Exhaling a grateful sigh, Jim pulled him closer and began to rock him slightly. He ran his hand over his partner's hair, down across his bare arms. Blair's skin was icy cold to his touch, and the young man was shaking violently. "Hey, buddy," Jim soothed, gently easing Sandburg away from him. "Let's get your hands free, okay? Then we'll get you warmed up."
Quickly, Jim fished his pocketknife from his jeans pocket and reached around Blair, slicing the tape away from his wrists. "Take it slow, Chief," he warned as Blair drew his arms in front of himself, grimacing at the simple movement.
"Feel... numb," Blair said, his voice quivering.
Jim shrugged out of the long overcoat he was wearing and draped it securely around the smaller man's shuddering frame. Reaching down, he tucked the long folds around Blair's stockinged feet. "Is that better?"
Blair nodded, clutching the coat tightly, his gaze turned away, his face concealed. It was several seconds before Jim realized he was crying. "Hey, Blair, it's okay." He pulled his guide close again. "It's over. You're okay."
"I'm sorry," Blair whispered. "I'm just... I'm so tired."
"No need to apologize," Jim said softly, fighting his own emotions.
"Are you all right?" Blair asked after a few seconds, pulling away slightly so he could look up into Jim's eyes.
Jim reached down to tuck a few strands of hair behind Blair's ear, then mustered a weary, lopsided grin for his partner. "I've just had about twenty years scared off my life, but other than that I'm doing fine." He smiled at the sound of Blair's answering chuckle, then said, "But you know what, partner? I think we'll both feel better if we get out of here."
Blair offered a tired grin. "You think?"
"Yeah, I think."
Blair sat still, giving no indication that he was ready to move, and as Jim looked down at him, he saw the younger man's eyes mist again with tears. Sandburg caught Jim studying him, then shifted his gaze away, obviously embarrassed. "Oh, man," he choked out. "I think I'm losing it here."
Jim cupped the side of Blair's face, gently forcing his gaze back to him. "You're allowed," he whispered.
Blair closed his eyes and bit at his trembling lower lip, then nodded slightly.
"Okay, then," Jim said softly. "Why don't we run you over to the hospital and get you checked out, then go home."
"That sounds good," Blair managed.
"Do you think you can stand?"
"Yeah. I think I'm gonna need some help, though."
"You got it." Jim scooted away from his friend and stood. Reaching down, he gently helped Blair to his feet.
"Thanks," Blair muttered. Still shivering, he pushed his arms into the sleeves of the coat Jim had draped over his shoulders. "Man, this coat feels good."
"Yeah?" Jim reached out and buttoned it closed, pulling the collar up around his partner's neck. "Well, don't get too comfortable. It's just a loaner."
Blair smiled at Jim's gentle teasing, then dropped his g
aze. Reaching up, he tentatively placed his hand against Jim's chest, then, surprising the detective slightly, moved forward, slipped his arms around the sentinel and hugged him tightly. Jim hesitated only a second before returning the embrace, holding his guide close.
"Thank you," Blair whispered against him. "For being here for me."
Jim leaned down and rested his cheek against the top of Blair's head. "I'll always be here for you, Chief. Always."
Several moments later, a sound from nearby caught Jim's attention; he looked up to see Simon standing a few yards away. The captain's arm was draped around Naomi Sandburg's shoulders, holding the distraught woman close to his side. Naomi stood with her hands pressed over her mouth, her wide eyes brimming with moisture, her face streaked with tears. It was obvious that she had been watching... listening... for several minutes. Slowly, she dropped her hands away from her mouth. "I'm sorry, Jim," she whispered softly to the detective. "I'm so sorry..."
Jim gave her an understanding smile and a slight nod. "Hey," he said to Blair as he kept his eyes locked with Naomi's. "Guess who just got here?"
Blair pulled out of Jim's arms and turned slowly. His gaze locked on Naomi. "Mom?" he whispered, his voice uncertain.
Naomi stepped away from Simon, but hesitated. Jim knew that she was probably reliving her last words to her son, wondering if he would be happy to see her.
"Mom," Blair repeated, a smile breaking across his face. He slipped away from Jim and walked unsteadily toward his mother.
Naomi finally moved; rushing to her son, she enveloped him in her arms. "Oh, Blair," she sobbed, her hands moving across his back, over his hair. "Oh, baby, I was so afraid."
"It's okay, mom," Blair soothed. "Everything's going to be okay now."
Simon crossed to Jim and clasped his hand firmly against the detective's shoulder. "You all right?" he asked.
Jim looked over at Blair where he stood with his mother. "I am now, sir," he answered softly. He glanced up at Simon and gave him a bright smile. "I am now."
Part Five
Jim offered Naomi his arm and escorted her across the parking area in front of the loft. A cold sea breeze blew between the buildings and washed over the two, chilling them and causing Naomi to clutch her wrap more closely around her thin shoulders.
It had been a long evening, two hours spent at the hospital waiting for Blair to be checked out and released, then home to the loft where Blair was instructed to take a warm shower and eat something before going to bed. But Naomi and Jim were exhausted as well, and Jim knew Blair's mother was looking forward to reaching her hotel room where she could rest after the ordeal of the last two days.
Reaching Naomi's car, Jim opened the door and helped her settle herself into the driver's seat. Leaning down, he smiled. "We'll see you in the morning, right?"
"Yes. I'll check out first thing, then come right over." She paused, looked down at her hands for several seconds, then up at Jim again. "Jim... thank you for asking me to stay at the loft until I leave for Fresno. After everything that's happened, I wasn't sure I'd be welcome--"
"You're always welcome," Jim cut in, smiling warmly. "And Naomi, nothing was said that can't be fixed."
She nodded, fighting to remain in control of her emotions. "I just wish I had taken the time to listen to Blair. To talk to him. He tried to tell me..." She let the words trail off, sighing deeply. "Too late for that now, right?" Her tired eyes found his. She smiled briefly. "I'll see you in the morning, Jim."
"In the morning," he agreed.
He closed the door for her and stepped back, watching as she started the car, turned on the headlights, and shifted the vehicle into reverse. But instead of backing out of the parking stall, she paused. Rolling down her window, she looked up at Jim. "You'll call me if anything changes, won't you? I don't mind being woken in the night--"
"I'll call," Jim assured her. "But with Blair's exhaustion and the sedative the doctor gave him, I'm sure he'll sleep through the night."
"I think we'll all sleep through the night," she added.
He watched as she backed out of the parking space and pulled out onto Prospect Street. Giving her a final wave, Jim quickly crossed the parking area and made his way back up to the loft.
Soft lamplight greeted him as he pushed open the door, and he relaxed at the sensations of warmth, of home. And almost immediately, he felt the last thirty-six hours rushing in to catch up with him. Lack of sleep, frayed emotions and physical aches and pains all combined to make him look longingly up at his bedroom. He'd be in bed, sound asleep, within a few minutes--but first there was something he needed to do. Someone he needed to see...
Pausing only a second at the French doors, he pushed at them and quietly entered Blair's small room. The lamplight from the living room filtered in through the window above Blair's bed, bathing the room in a muted, warm half-light. Jim easily adjusted his eyesight as he crossed to the bed. His partner lay on his back beneath a layer of blankets, his face turned slightly toward the door. One arm lay on top of the covers, resting gently across Blair's chest.
As Jim stood over him, watching his partner sleep, he couldn't help but think about Grant and how he had stood over Blair this same way. Watching him while he slept, looking at his guide the way Jim was now, knowing the young man was completely vulnerable.... and planning to harm him. Planning to take him to that cemetery and lock him inside that granite vault. Leave him there to die.
Jim shuddered as an image of Blair, trapped inside that cold, dark crypt flashed through his mind. He hated thinking about his partner inside that thing, lying helplessly hour after hour as his air slowly ran out.
His hands drew into tight fists at his sides. His jaw clenched. More than anything, Jim wanted to protect his partner, keep him safe, keep him away from anyone who would harm him. Away from men like Marcus Grant.
But you failed to do that and Blair nearly died.
With a deep sigh, Jim eased himself down to the side of the mattress and touched lightly at Blair's hand.
"Hey," Blair muttered sleepily.
Jim looked up, surprised to find blue eyes looking at him through half-open eyelids. "I thought you were asleep," he said, smiling.
"In and out." Blair yawned. "Is my mom still here?"
"No, she just left."
Blair's eyes slipped closed again. "Thank you," he mumbled. "For asking her to stay..."
"Not a problem. I think you need her to be here right now. And I'm hoping we'll all have a chance to get some things worked out."
"I hope so, too," Blair muttered.
"Well," Jim said, patting affectionately at Blair's leg, "That's nothing for us to worry about tonight. Right now, all you have to work at is getting some rest. You think you can do that?"
Blair gave him a tired smile, his eyes staying closed. "No problem, man. That sedative is definitely starting to take affect."
Jim stared down at his partner, not yet ready to leave, needing to say one more thing to him tonight. He leaned sideways, across Blair, placing his hand against the mattress on the other side of his guide's body. "Blair," he said softly, "I just want you to know how sorry I am that you had to go through all this... I... I'm just glad you're all right."
Blair's eyes blinked open again and focused on the man above him. "You say that like this was your fault somehow." He shifted his hand to Jim's arm, his fingers trailing down to come to rest around the sentinel's wrist. "It's not."
Jim shook his head and dropped his gaze. "I should have never pursued Grant like I did..."
Blair squeezed his wrist gently. "Before you take on this burden of guilt, just remember what Grant told you. He wanted to test you." He blinked once, his eyes taking several seconds to re-open, the pull of the sedative obvious. "He would have come back no matter what we did."
Jim stared at his friend for a moment, wanting desperately to believe that what he was saying was true. "You know what's really strange about this whole thing, Chief? Grant came back because I wouldn
't let up on him. But the truth is, I did let up on him. I'd given up trying to find him. Do you remember the night you told me you didn't want to testify against Cal?"
Blair nodded once, his tired gaze studying Jim.
"Right after you went to bed, Jack Kelso called me and told me he had a couple new leads on Grant. Asked me if I wanted to keep pursuing him. All I could think of was what you'd said about letting things go or the hatred and revenge would end up ruling your life. I gave Grant up, Chief. Right then. I told Kelso to pull his men off his trail." Jim let out a long, exasperated breath. "Guess that was a mistake, huh?"
Blair shook his head against his pillow, frowning. "No, Jim. If nothing else, that was the one good thing that came out of this. You were right to let go of those emotions. Please, if you believe nothing else, believe that."
Jim smiled down at Blair. "Always worrying about me, aren't you, Chief?"
Blair's eyes slipped closed again. "Hey, man," he mumbled, the words slightly slurred, "It's what I do."
"And you do it quite well," Jim added. But even as he spoke, he realized that Blair was no longer listening. The sedative had finally won out and Blair was asleep.
Jim remained where he was, monitoring his friend as his body slipped deeper and deeper into sleep. Gently pulling his wrist from his partner's grasp, he reached up and pushed at a few strands of hair, then moved his hand down to rest against Blair's cheek. Sandburg's hair and skin were warm beneath his palm and fingers, a striking contrast to how chilled he had been when Jim first touched him in the cemetery. Unwanted, the thought that Jim knew would be haunting him for a long time to come played itself across his mind: You almost lost him this time... So close...
Moving his hand upward and tracing his thumb across Blair's forehead, Jim swallowed against the emotions that threatened to crush him. He rested his thumb against Blair's temple, allowed the pulse beating there to reassure him of Blair's safety, of his life. But the thoughts remained, taunting him, causing cold fingers to brush at his heart: You almost lost him this time... So close...
