by Carol Roi
She wasn't really dead, he told himself, tears burning his eyes all the same. His hands roamed her body, sensitive fingers finding and removing as much debris as he could, knowing it would speed her healing. When he had done everything he could for her, he sat back on his heels, wrapping his arms around his legs, and resting his head on his knees. He watched her intently, amazed at the way her injuries were disappearing before his eyes. If he squinted, he thought he could actually see the small blue sparks of her Quickening energy at work.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there waiting, but finally he saw her body jerk, and heard the sharp intake of air. Her eyes snapped open, and she groaned. "Damn that hurts," Dee said softly.
"Take it easy," Blair told her, reaching out a hand to restrain her. "There's no danger now. Take as much time as you need." Getting to his feet, he searched the area, finding what he was looking for on the wall of the building opposite them. Darting across the narrow alley, he turned on the water spigot, washing his hands and face thoroughly before sticking his mouth under the stream and gulping down the cold liquid. When he'd drunk his fill, he cupped his hands under the spout and captured some for her, carrying it carefully back to her. Kneeling beside her, Blair watched her tilt her head, her lips brushing his fingers as she took a drink, the connection between them thrumming with powerful emotion.
He made a couple more trips, until she was no longer thirsty. Sitting down beside her in the alcove, he said, "Now what do we do?"
Dee shifted her position so that she was shoulder to shoulder with him. "How long has it been?"
"I don't know, half hour, forty-five minutes, tops. They probably know we weren't in the car by now."
"You have your phone in there?" she asked, pointing at the backpack Blair couldn't even remember bringing with him.
"Yeah... "
"Call Jim. Let's see if we can't play dead."
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Jim changed his hold on Megan slightly, one hand shifting to rub her back. They'd moved from the doorway to the sofa, but Jim hadn't let go of her, and she had clung just as tightly to him, her tears wetting his shoulder. He had pushed his own grief into the background, unwilling, and a little afraid to give in to it, afraid that if he did, he would never find his way back. Dee had warned him often enough of the consequences of a guide's death, and he could now see how easy it would be to follow Blair to the spirit world.
Megan was the lucky one, he thought. She would still have Dee, if the Immortal chose to reveal her true nature to her, rather than disappearing. Funny how he had begun thinking of the two of them as partners, even though there had been no outright change in the way Dee and Megan treated each other. In fact, Megan had spent more time working with him, and Dee still showed a preference for Blair.
That was another problem. Blair's death would hit the Champion hard, perhaps hard enough to send her back to the dark depths of insanity. He made a silent vow to his guide not to let that happen. No matter what his personal feelings were toward her, they were connected now and forever through the bond they'd each had with Blair. Closing his eyes, Jim tried to find his center, that place of utter calm and complete stillness inside himself. Having reached it, he looked for their bond, using the skill he'd absorbed from Dee when she'd showed their connection to him over a week ago. The thick gold band of energy glowed brightly, still connected to him, the other end stretching out into an amorphous darkness.
He was so surprised by the sight he jumped, disturbing Megan, who started to protest at the same time the phone rang. Leaping from the couch, Ellison snatched it up. "Blair!" he almost shouted.
"We're dead, Jim," said the familiar voice on the other end of the line before breaking into hysterical giggles.
Jim could hear Dee's voice in the background. "Give me the phone, Lobo. It's okay, it's okay." Some rustling noises were followed by her confident tones. "Ellison, you there?"
"Diandra? You're supposed to be dead."
"Is that the best you can come up with?" she sighed. "I was dead. I'm adding car bombs to my list of ways I hate to die."
"Blair, is Blair all right?" Jim was having trouble putting his thoughts and words together coherently, especially now that Megan was hanging on his arm trying to listen in.
"Lobo's okay. He probably won't be able to move tomorrow, but he's fine. Just a little bit shaken up now that the adrenaline rush is wearing off."
Jim heard Blair say, "A little bit?"
"Okay, he's having a post-traumatic stress reaction right now, but he'll be fine. I think realizing you almost lost him did it. Listen, Ellison, Blair and I are going to disappear until the grand jury next week."
Jim frowned. "What do you mean, disappear?"
"This has gotten way out of hand. I'm sick of being a damn target, and I don't think Lobo's heart can stand another close call like tonight. I'm taking him somewhere I can protect him."
Anger flashed through the sentinel. "That's not your decision to make, Pallas," he growled.
"There was a goddamn bomb in my Cherokee, Ellison! My truck, which had been in police custody until I picked it up this afternoon! Where in the hell do you think that bomb came from? The car bomb fairy?" she snarled back. "That safe house is a deathtrap, Detective. We walk in the door, we're as good as dead. There's no way in hell I'm going to do that. Now either you work with me on this, or we will vanish into thin air."
Jim wasn't willing to give in without a fight. "You sure Blair will go along with you?"
Dee glanced at the anthropologist huddled next to her in the small doorway, his legs pulled up to his chest, his head bowed. "Yes, he will," she said, the fury gone from her voice. "He saw what I looked like after being caught in the explosion. It could just have easily been you, or him, or Megan. No one but an Immortal could survive those kinds of injuries. Now are you going to help us out or not?"
The sentinel hesitated. "You have to let me know where you're going to be."
"Only if you don't tell anyone, and I mean -anyone- where we are. Not even your Captain."
"I'll only tell him if it's absolutely necessary," Jim promised. He could hear Diandra's resigned sigh.
"You know I don't have to tell you anything... but I trust you. It's the rest of the PD that's the problem. I'm going to take Lobo to a friend's cabin, just north of Seacouver. It's on an island in the middle of a lake up there. Very safe, very secluded, very defensible. Nothing will happen to him there."
"I know the lake you're talking about. Simon has a cabin on the west shore, about two miles up the mountain. How are you going to get there?" Jim asked.
"I called Joe; he's on his way here to pick us up right now. If you need to contact us, use Blair's cell phone, though I can't guarantee the reception once we get up in the mountains. And Ellison, I'm trusting you to use your head, and keep Megan safe."
Ellison glanced at the Aussie, who was staring at him with a quizzical look on her face. "Of course, Diandra," he answered her. "And I'll see what I can do about making sure you're officially dead for the time being."
"Thanks," she said, and clicked the phone off. Sitting back down in the doorway next to Blair, she tucked the phone back into his backpack. Running a hand lightly through his hair, she asked, "How are you doing?"
Turning his face toward her, he rested his cheek on his knee. If this were Jim sitting next to him, asking the same question, in the same situation, he would be tempted to suck it up, to say he was fine, so Jim wouldn't worry, wouldn't think he couldn't depend on him. But this was Dee, and he knew she would see right through his bullshit, not that Jim didn't, he just let him get away with it most of the time. "I... I'm scared, Dee," he finally managed. "I hurt all over, and I'm freezing."
Dee looked up at the darkening sky, and the fine mist that was beginning to fall. "It's supposed to snow tonight. Come on, Lobo, let's get a little further undercover." Getting to her feet once again, she took a quick look at the rusty padlock
holding the warehouse door shut. Two swift kicks, and the door flew open. Dee poked her head inside, making sure it was safe. "Well, it doesn't have all the comforts of home, but at least it's dry, and out of the wind." Extending a hand, she helped Blair to his feet, and supported him as he limped inside.
"You weren't limping before, what happened?"
Sliding down the wall until he was seated on the concrete floor, Blair said, "I didn't notice it earlier, but I must have banged it when I hit the ground after the explosion." He winced in pain as she knelt beside him, her fingers gently probing his left knee.
"It's hot," she said, "and swollen, though it doesn't feel like anything is broken or torn, just a very bad sprain." She placed a hand on either side of his knee, and closed her eyes.
Blair's hands over hers stopped her. "Don't... " Opening her eyes, she raised an eyebrow at him. "I know you must have expended a lot of energy earlier, healing yourself. Don't over extend yourself for a little sprain."
Goddess, she loved him, but sometimes his concern for her was misplaced. "I'm fine, Lobo, but you aren't going to be much use to me if you can't walk. It's too dangerous for both of us. You do see that?" Her words chastised him, but her tone was gentle.
Biting his lip, Blair nodded. Once again Dee concentrated, and Blair watched in fascination as her hands began to glow with a faint blue light. It took everything he had to hold still for her though, as the energy flowing into his leg felt like red-hot needles. The sensation only lasted a few seconds, but when she moved her hands away, he had to consciously remember to breathe, and a low moan slid out with his exhale. "Sorry, baby," she said. "It's not completely healed, but the swelling should be about gone, and you can stand on it."
She moved to sit next to him, feeling him resist as she slid her arm around his shoulders. "Hey, what's this?" she asked him, her tone slightly hurt.
Blair shivered. "I don't know... " he said. "I... I'm worried about Jim, and Megan... and us... and... "
Pulling him closer, so that he was snug against her shoulder, she said, "Shhh, everything's going to be all right. Just close your eyes and rest. I'll take care of everything, okay?" Her hand started to rub his back, and Blair finally began to relax against her. His eyes closed, and soon he was lightly dozing.
While he slept, Dee kept watch, turning the past week's events over in her mind. They had approached it all wrong from the start, she realized, by deciding on a purely defensive strategy. After the attack on Megan, they should have taken the battle directly to Cristo, and ended it then. She sighed. But that was not the way things were done in this day and age. There were rules and regulations to adhere to, judicial channels that Ellison, Blair and Megan had to follow. Perhaps her mistake had been in going along with them. If she had followed her gut instinct and gone after Cristo on her own, then none of this would have happened.
She gazed down at the sleeping anthropologist, wondering what he would think of her if she had. Would he hate her for it, or would it just be easier for her if he did? "Oh, goddess, how did everything get so fucked up?" she whispered. When you left Cascade, her brain replied, when you left him. Looking back on her decision now, she could see it had been the same as all the times before. Things got tough, or awkward, or difficult, and she ran; only this time she had run from herself as well as love. What had she been hoping to accomplish by moving back to Seacouver? Had she been hoping her heightened senses would just go away? That would have solved a hell of a lot of problems, and she wouldn't have to open herself up to anyone new, to chose a companion. Would you have run from Blair, she asked herself, if he had been free to be that companion? She wanted to think she wouldn't have, but she couldn't be sure. It had been such a long time, and yet the wounds were as fresh as the moment Lydia died in her arms. It had been her fault; she was the Champion, she was supposed to protect the Companion.
Blair stirred a bit in his sleep, and Dee lowered him so that his head was resting in her lap. She stroked his hair gently, wondering if for all her bravado in front of Ellison, she would really be able to keep him safe. She hadn't been able to do that for Lydia. With that thought, the pieces of her life began to fit together, to make an odd sort of sense. Fear. Everything she'd done for the past 2680 years had been done out of fear. Fear of failing, of giving herself over completely to someone, and then getting him or her killed. The idea was staggering, and knowing now was not the time or place to deal with it, Dee stuffed it in a mental box, and slammed the lid shut. Besides, she thought she heard Joe's car outside.
"Lobo," she whispered in his ear, "someone's outside; I'm going to check on it." Fully awake at her words, Blair sat up, watching anxiously as she moved to the door, and opened it slightly, peering out into the softly falling snow. "It's okay," she said. "It's Joe." Helping Blair to his feet, she grabbed his backpack, and followed him out to Joe's van, climbing into the back seat with him.
Joe got a good look at the both of them when the interior light came on, but he held his tongue until they were both settled. "There's a blanket behind the seat," he said.
Dee grabbed it and wrapped it around Blair. "Go ahead and lie down," she told him, scooting closer to the door so he would have more room. "You need to keep your knee elevated." He did as she directed, once again resting his head in her lap, and closing his eyes.
Joe put the van into drive, and pulled away from the warehouse. "You gonna keep me in suspense much longer, Dee, or are you going to fill me in? It's not too often I get Immortals calling me to haul their ass out of the fire. You look like you've been through a war."
Dee adjusted the blanket so it fit more snugly around Blair. "Someone blew up my Cherokee, with the two of us in it."
"Someone must be pretty pissed at you," he said.
"Not at me, at Lobo. It's a long story, Joe, but there's a drug dealer out to kill him. Can you take us to the dojo so we can pick up some things, and get cleaned up, and then to Mac's island?"
"Sure, sure, anything for you, Dee, you know that." He glanced in the mirror at them. Both of them were filthy, and reeked of smoke and gasoline. Dee's clothes were torn and singed, and covered in blood. "Anything for Blair, too. I'm becoming rather fond of him."
A weary smile crossed Dee's face. "He has that affect on people." Gazing down at him, she said softly, "I swear I won't fail you, Lobo. I swear I'll keep you safe."
Joe heard her quiet promise, and wondered what was going on between the two of them. The last time he'd spoken to Diandra, she had assured him she'd made the right decision to leave Blair. But now it looked like she was having second thoughts. He decided to just ask. "What's the deal with the two of you? I thought you said it was over."
Dee's eyes met the Watcher's in the mirror. "I... I don't know anymore, Joe. It's complicated."
"Try me. I'm a bartender, otherwise known as a professional listener." He gave her a reassuring grin.
She checked to make sure Blair was asleep before she spoke. "How much have you and Blair talked? I mean, how well do you know him?"
Joe considered her question for a moment, then said, "I don't know, pretty well I think. I know the two most important people in his life are you and Detective Ellison. And I know he still loves you. I think for the past couple months when I've spoken with him, he's lived for the end of the conversation, when he could casually say 'Have you seen Dee lately?'"
Her chest suddenly felt tight, and she blinked back tears. "I'm sorry, Lobo, I'm sorry. I fucked up all around, didn't I?" she whispered. Wiping at her eyes, she got back to the subject at hand. "Did you ever talk about his studies, his thesis?"
Joe nodded. "A little bit, yes. After he joined the Watchers, I got a hold of his master's thesis and read it, just wanting to make sure he was every bit as good as I thought, and he is. His study of people with heightened senses was very thorough, and well written. He told me he's interested in reviewing a lot of the older Chronicles, hoping to find some evidence there of Sentinels. It's too bad they no longer exist in today's society. He mak
es them sound as interesting as Immortals."
Dee laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, they exist all right, and they are far rarer than Immortals."
Joe turned around in his seat to look at her. "You mean you know a Sentinel? Does Blair know this?"
"Oh, yeah, Blair knows all about it. He's a Guide."
Joe returned part of his attention to the road. "If he's a Guide, then... is Detective Ellison a Sentinel?"
"Yes," she answered him, "as am I. And therein lies the crux of the problem and the reason I left Cascade. Sentinels are very territorial, especially when it comes to the guide."
The Watcher was beginning to get the picture. "Ellison had a problem with the relationship between you and Blair."
Dee nodded. "Yes, I thought my removing myself from the picture would solve everything, but as you know, it just made Blair and me miserable, and nothing was resolved. So here we are again, right back at the same place we started, and I'm afraid I'm going to screw it up all over again."
