Inevitable Series 02 The Undoing

by Beth Manz

  Could he have changed it in some way? Have stopped it somehow? Or was this just destiny? Jim's first dream finally playing itself out to its inevitable conclusion?

  No. No matter what, he would never believe that.

  "Jim?"

  He turned toward the sound of the voice beside him. Simon stared at him, concern etched in his face. "Jim, we have to go to the hospital."

  He nodded blankly. His gaze drifted back to the woods. "Alex..."

  "It's being taken care of," Simon assured him.

  Jim couldn't remember the drive to the hospital. Didn't know if anyone had told him anything about Blair. He was just suddenly in the waiting room, Simon beside him.

  He blinked, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Simon?"

  "Jim, thank God." Relief hung on each word. "You've been staring at the wall for the last two hours. I thought you'd checked out for good this time."

  "Where's Blair?" he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  "Surgery. We should hear soon."

  "I shot him, Simon. I was aiming for Alex but I shot him." Just like in my dream. But he couldn't say that. Couldn't talk about it with anyone but Blair. He closed his eyes, dropping his face into his hands.

  "Jim, whatever happened out there, I know you were trying to save Blair. He knows it too."

  Jim nodded. That was true. That was what he had wanted. He fell back against his chair, dropping his hands in his lap. "He jumped in front of me, Simon. He took that bullet because he thinks it's his job to protect me." The words sounded crazy to him. Blair was a grad student. An anthropologist.

  My Guide.

  Jim wanted to deny that truth. Wanted to shout that Guide or not, Blair Sandburg was not meant to die for him. But it was too late for those words. Too late to change what had already happened. Jim had accepted Blair into his life. Had allowed him to follow him out on the streets day after day. Had needed him to become his Guide. It was that need which had led to this moment in time.

  Simon's hand came to rest on Jim's shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. "Jim, Blair did exactly what you would have done if the circumstances had been reversed."

  Jim wanted to point out to Simon that Blair should never have been in these "circumstances". But he didn't. Because Simon's words just confirmed what he'd already told Blair. No one saw Blair's partnership as anything but natural. Even when he tried to give his life for Jim, Simon still saw the act as a perfectly acceptable progression of their partnership.

  The door on the far side of the room opened and an older woman with graying hair stepped through. "You're here for Mr. Sandburg?" she asked, crossing to them.

  Jim stood. "Is he okay?"

  "He made it through surgery." She hugged the chart she held against her chest before continuing. "The bullet in his shoulder went straight through without causing much damage. The one in his chest proved more problematic." That was Alex's bullet. It should have given Jim some level of comfort to know his bullet hadn't caused the majority of the damage. But it didn't. He had shot Blair and there was no comfort to be found in that.

  Jim returned his focus to the doctor, needing to concentrate on her words, to understand Blair's condition.

  "When he arrived, we assessed immediately that his right lung had collapsed. We inserted a chest tube into the area where the lung is to help it re-inflate. He also needed quite a bit of blood." She delivered the news with a detached, professional tone. "We were able to remove the bullet in surgery and there was no permanent damage. Right now, we have him heavily sedated. I'd like to keep him that way for a day or two to give his body time to heal."

  "So he'll be okay?" Jim asked, not quite sure if that was what she was telling him.

  "I can't give you a for certain, every patient is different. But he's young and strong. He appears to be responding well to treatment. And at this point in time, there are no signs of infection. So I'd say yes, his chances are very good."

  Simon clapped Jim on the back. "That's good enough for me, doctor. Thank you."

  "When can I see him?" Jim asked.

  "He's in recovery now. Once he's moved to a room, I'll have someone come for you."

  Jim dropped back into his seat as soon as they were alone again. "Thank God," he muttered. Then his mind flashed onto something he had forgotten. Something important. "Brackett.." He turned to Simon. "What happened to Brackett?"

  Simon shook his head. "I never saw him."

  "I handcuffed him to my truck. There's no way--"

  "He wasn't there, Jim." Simon pulled a cigar from his inside jacket pocket and slipped it into his mouth. "He just wasn't there."

  Once again he was in the woods. He sensed the wolf next to him before he saw it. The animal stood beside him, a steady, strong presence. His hand dropped to the animal's head, his fingers brushing through the soft fur.

  "I understand now."

  Jim looked to his side but the wolf was gone. In its place stood Blair, his deep blue eyes shining with an inner peace that seemed to reach out and engulf Jim. He smiled at his partner. "What do you understand, Blair?"

  "Everything, man. Everything."

  Jim sat up, the feeling of peace following him from the dream. But the sensation was short-lived as his gaze shifted to the hospital bed and his Guide's still form.

  It had been three days since Blair had been brought to the hospital. He'd been unconscious the entire time. But the doctors had finally begun to taper him off the drugs this morning and expected him to wake any time now. That was fine with Jim. Because no matter how much the doctors tried to reassure him, no matter how strong Blair's vitals were even to Jim's own ears, he would not relax until Blair opened his eyes and spoke.

  Jim stood and leaning over Blair, brushed a stray piece of hair back from his friend's forehead. Shaking fingers lingered a moment on the mark Alex's bullet had left on the side of his face where it had grazed him. He's going to be okay, Jim told himself. But the words did not quiet the unease that twisted through him, that deepened with each passing hour. Could not block out the vision of his Guide's bleeding, motionless body. No, that image was permanently burned into his memory.

  He paced to the window but saw nothing of the view beyond the glass. Just his own grim features reflected back. Jim's mind turned to his first dream about the wolf. About Blair. Had it been a warning? A premonition? Or both? He had thought about it almost non-stop since he had shot Blair but he had yet to figure it out.

  And it haunted him.

  If Blair was right and it was part of his duties as Guide to give his life for his Sentinel, could Jim keep working with him? Did he have the right or the desire to let this kind of thing happen again? To put his friend in this position over and over?

  He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead, trying to ease the tension there. Right now, all he wanted was for Blair to wake up so the two of them could figure this out. Jim nearly laughed. The words had entered his mind without thought, had seemed so natural. And in that moment, he knew that no matter the danger to Blair, he would not send him away. Could not. The bond between them was deeper than friendship or partnership. It went beyond the brotherly affection he felt for Blair. There was a spiritual connection between Guide and Sentinel that he could not deny.

  It was how he had known that Blair was still in Cascade. How he'd been able to find the lumber mill where Alex and Brackett had been keeping him. And it was how he knew, on some instinctual level, that there was no way he could sever their bond. Jim could only hope that whoever or whatever had chosen them to play out these roles was also watching out for their safety as well.

  "Jim?"

  His gaze swung toward the strained sound of Blair's voice. He crossed the room in three long strides and stared down into blue eyes clouded with pain. "Hey Chief. How you feeling?"

  "Tired," Blair muttered.

  Jim nodded, unable to speak for a moment, relief stealing his breath, his voice. "Do you want me to get your doctor?" he asked when he was able to speak
again.

  "No." He licked dried lips. "Water?"

  "Yeah, buddy." Jim filled a plastic cup with water and placing a hand in the center of Blair's back, lifted him slightly upright so he could drink.

  Blair managed a few sips, his face scrunched up in pain at the simple movements. When he was finished, Jim lowered him gently back to the bed. "You okay, buddy?"

  Blair nodded, his face relaxing again. "Alex?" he managed. "Brackett?"

  "Alex is dead, Chief. But Brackett...Brackett somehow escaped."

  Blair's eyes drifted closed. "Figures." His breathing slowed and for a moment, Jim thought he might have drifted off again. But then his voice came, soft, unsure. "Did anyone call my mom?"

  Guilt settled in on Jim. He could lie to Blair, tell him that he hadn't called his mother because there really wouldn't have been anything for her to do but be worried sick about her only child. But truth be told, he hadn't even thought about calling Naomi. Not once.

  "Sorry, Chief, I didn't call her. I--"

  "Good," he breathed. "I'll call her...when I'm out. I don't think she has the money to come here again and she would want to."

  Jim shook his head. Once again, Blair was concerned about someone other than himself.

  "Hey Chief," Jim said softly, "I just wanted to say thanks...for saving my life."

  "Owed you one," Blair murmured before drifting back to sleep.

  His eyes blinked open. He could see white walls. Smell disinfectant. Feel the prick of the IV needle in his arm.

  Damn, he was still in the hospital. Blair had been dreaming he was home, lying on the couch, watching a Jags game with Jim. His gaze shifted to the chair beside his bed. Jim was there, just like he always was when Blair woke. This time, however, Jim did not come to immediate attention when Blair looked at him. Instead, he stared at the floor, his eyes vacant, his shoulders slumped forward.

  Using the button on the side of the bed, Blair repositioned himself until he was sitting almost upright. Then he reached over, gritting his teeth against the flare of pain in his chest and shoulder, and shoved Jim hard. "You zoning on me, man?"

  Jim jerked backward, blinking rapidly. "Sorry, Chief." He rubbed a weary hand over his eyes and yawned.

  "You know, Jim, I'm fine. I'm going home tomorrow morning. You don't have to stay tonight."

  "I know, Chief. It's just...I'd rather stay."

  The quiet admission touched Blair. But it also awakened a memory in him. "Jim, Alex told me something when I was…training her. She said that when you're with someone long enough, you get to know the sound of their heartbeat. That it becomes...distinct. Is that true?"

  "Yes, it's true," he said without hesitation. "Blair, when you were gone, I couldn't sleep. I think I must tune into the sound of your heartbeat without even realizing it. It's just a steady, familiar sound in my mind that somehow keeps everything level for me." He said the words without embarrassment or regret.

  "I like that, Jim. I like that I can do that for you."

  "I'm glad." But there was a sadness to Jim's voice that belied his words.

  "What's going on with you, man? What were you thinking about when I woke up?"

  Jim shook his head, running a hand through his short hair. "It's that dream, Blair. The first dream I had about you...about shooting you. I can't stop thinking about it. I need to understand it."

  I understand now.

  The words flashed through Blair's mind. Words from a vaguely remembered dream. He'd been in the woods with Jim. Beside Jim. He'd known then what the dream had meant. And as the memory came back to him, so did the knowledge he needed to put his Sentinel at ease. "Jim," he whispered, a feeling of peace settling over him, "I think I know."

  Jim shifted from his chair to the end of the bed. Sitting on its edge, he rested his hand lightly on Blair's legs. "You think you know what?"

  "What the dream meant." The explanation seemed so simple now, so apparent. "It was a wake up call. We'd fallen into a pattern. You cop. Me backup. The Sentinel stuff was becoming a non-issue between us. Then you had that dream and we began to question everything."

  Jim's hand tightened on Blair's legs. "I know it didn't always seem like it, but I never questioned our friendship."

  Blair nodded, swallowing past the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. "Thanks man, that means a lot to me." He let out a long breath, refocused his thoughts and locked his gaze on his partner. "Jim, you were right. We need to deal with what Incacha said to me, what he made me. You killing my Spirit Guide, that was a warning. That dream was trying to tell us that if we were to continue down the path we were on, then I would lose what I am meant to become. That the spiritual part of me would die."

  "Blair, are you sure it's hasn't already died? I mean, I shot the wolf. I killed it."

  "You didn't kill it," Blair said, hating the guilt he heard in Jim's voice. Knowing he had to make him believe his words if he was ever going to let go of those feelings. "Just think about the dreams you had when I was missing. The way you found me. You saw my Spirit Guide in those dreams. It led you to me. That tells me that it's still alive. That the opportunity is still out there for me. We just have to begin to explore it."

  "Okay, let's say I agree with you. What do we do now?"

  Blair raised one eyebrow. "That is the question of the day, isn't it."

  Jim smiled, the first genuine smile Blair had seen in a long time. "And I thought you had all the answers."

  "Hey, man, I'm just a Shaman-in-training. You're a full-blown Sentinel. I think you're the one who should have to supply the answers here."

  Jim patted his legs through the blanket. "We'll find the answers the way we do everything else, Chief. Together."

  The end.