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MIRACLES OF LIFE, PART 2
by
November
"Simon, what happened?" Blair called as he spotted the tall man in the E.R.'s waiting room. "How is Jim? Have you talked with his doctor? Is he conscious?"
"Slow down, Sandburg," the captain said quickly. "He's still unconscious, but he's going to be fine. He got a nasty bump on his head, lost some skin, and what skin he has left is bruised, but he's going to recover completely."
"Fill me in," he demanded, angry at himself for not having been with Jim. Instead, he'd been at a study group arranged for the people in his 101 class who needed extra help before finals. "Did he zone? Where the hell was Megan?" Since she knew Jim was a Sentinel, he had started training her how to handle him in the field.
"A robber hit a convenience store. Ran out and stole a truck that was idling out front. Unfortunately, there was a kid in the vehicle. So, right away we're faced with a potential hostage situation. Jim stands in front of the truck with his gun drawn, but he can't shoot because if the truck wrecks, the boy could be killed. The man guns the engine to run Jim over. Jim falls to the pavement--"
"Is that when he hit his head?"
"No. The truck runs over him, and he's dragged along as he holds onto something underneath. Then he manages to make it to the side of the truck, opens the passenger door, pulls out the kid, and sort of tucks himself around him as they fall out on the side of the road."
"The child?"
"Undamaged."
"But Jim hit his head, right? I've told him time and time again to stop these foolish stunts. He has issues with moving vehicles. Trains, helicopters, cars...." He shook his head in frustration.
"Jim was fine. Bruised, scraped, that's about it. I mean, he was able to hand the kid off to an officer, take the officer's car, and continue the chase. Finally, he shot the tires out on the truck and the driver crashed. The vehicle exploded just as he got the man out. Son of a bitch is lucky he's in lock-up, and not the morgue."
"That's when Jim hurt his head?"
"Just more bruising and skin loss."
Blair held up his hand for silence. "How the hell did he hit his head, Simon?"
"Got out of his truck at the station, and stepped into an oil puddle. Good thing I was planning on ordering him to get checked out anyway."
Blair slumped into a chair, trying hard not to laugh. The poor man had gone through all of that, only to be brought down by a puddle. It was morbidly funny, and sadly typical of Jim's life lately. "This just isn't his year, is it, Simon?"
"Guess it's a good thing there's only one month left in it. But we've gotten him this far, Sandburg. We'll get him through the rest."
"From your mouth to God's ear," Blair wished as they sat back and waited for the doctor.
Jim regained consciousness in the next hour, but only woke up long enough to assure the doctors, and his anxious Guide, that no serious brain damage had occurred. Then they had shipped him off to a room, pumping him full of painkillers and antibiotics, which knocked him out for the rest of the night. Seeing that his partner was going to be okay, Blair was coerced into leaving the hospital for a few hours of much needed sleep.
He arrived at Jim's bedside bright and early, wanting to be there when the man awakened. An hour later, he heard Jim moan, the eyes opening, then closing in pain. "Take it easy, Jim. The lights are a little bright. I'm going to cover your eyes with my hand until you have time to adjust, okay? That's right. Just keep lowering the dial. There you go, big guy."
Jim blinked, recognizing the white walls, and the antiseptic smell of Cascade General-- this particular Sentinel/Guide pair's unofficial second home. "What the hell happened?"
"You slipped in some oil and hit your head in the parking garage."
He grimaced as he remembered falling. "Some oil, hell. Care to recall whose car was parked next to mine yesterday?"
"Oops. I've been meaning to get that fixed. But you're going to be fine...despite taking on a truck with your body," Blair chided.
"It was only one truck?" Jim groaned as he took account of his injuries. "Feels more like a whole fleet. What time is it?"
"Nine-fifteen."
Jim glanced toward the window and paled. Sunlight. The A.M. Which one, damn it? "How long was I out? This is Saturday morning, right?" Please, let it be Saturday.
"Of course it's Saturday. You feeling okay?"
He relaxed, then realized he wasn't out of the woods yet. "Damn it, I'm going to be late," he said, as he forced himself to sit up and flop his legs over the side of the bed. "Alex is going to explode. You bring me some clothes?"
"Yes, but only for you to go home in. Jim, you're in no condition to go to Seattle," he said strongly.
"I have to go, Chief."
Blair patted his hand. "Maybe if you rest all day today, you'll be able to go tomorrow. Just call them, and have them explain to Alex about--"
"Either help me, or get out of the way, Sandburg. Your choice."
"Alex can survive one day without you, man!"
Jim detached his I.V. "I'm not as certain of that as you."
A hand fell on his, stopping his movements. "What the hell does that mean, Jim?" Jim ignored him, and reached for the duffle bag sitting on the floor next to the bed. A wave of dizziness nearly knocked him to the floor. Blair threw out an arm to catch him, wincing as he realized his action had hurt Jim. "Tell me what you mean, man, and then I'll help you, okay?"
Jim rested his aching head in his hands. "Alex is unstable, but she isn't completely insane...not yet. She's balanced on an edge, and I think I'm part of her balance, David and I. If she thinks I'm not around, she's going to fall, taking the baby with her."
"If you miss one Saturday, she's going to think you're abandoning her?"
"She's probably going to think I'm dead."
"Her doctors--"
"It won't matter what her doctors tell her. It won't matter if I call her.... Haven't you noticed I don't call her, Chief? That's because she doesn't trust voices of people who aren't in front of her, people she can't sense with the rest of her faculties. Why? Because I told her not to. It was the only way I could think of to protect David."
"I don't understand."
"Alex hears voices all the time. Sometimes they tell her to do things. These things could hurt her, or cause the guards to have to hurt her. So I told her not to listen to them. That if she couldn't touch, see, smell, as well as hear the person, don't believe, don't listen."
Blair was floored. He had not realized Alex had decompensated so badly. "Isn't there anything the doctors can do?"
"Not while she's pregnant."
Blair sat on the bed, trying to sort through what Jim had told him. He had known that Alex was about fifty cards shy of a full deck, but the last time he'd seen her, at the wedding, she had been maintaining. Apparently the edge was getting thinner, and there was no way to correct her balance because of the baby, an innocent totally dependent on her for several more months. "Why would she think you were dead, Jim?"
"Because Alex thinks in extremes. She diligently counts the days so that she doesn't have to rely on anyone else to tell her when it's Saturday. I told her I would see her every Saturday, so when her count tells her it's the right day, she gets dressed and sits perfectly still in the day room until I get there. The rest of the time she refuses to leave her room, and if she does, she is accompanied by an armed guard because her behavior is so unpredictable. But on Saturdays, she's an angel, according to the staff. If I don't show up, she will not think I have forgotten about her. She knows I wouldn't forget David. So she will deduce something has happened to me, and the later it gets, the more she will be convinced that I can't come to her, that I am dead or dying. Then all bets will be off."
Blair could see Jim believed every word he said. "Doesn't it frighten you to understand her so well?"
Jim smiled weakly. "Not really. It makes it easier to anticipate what's going to happen next with her. At times, I wish I understood you half as well, Chief."
"I don't think it would be too safe to surf the Alex Zone and the Sandburg Zone at the same time, Jim. It could be cataclysmic," Blair warned lightly as he reached for the strings of Jim's hospital gown.
Jim nodded. "I'll remember that."
*****
Security must have been alerted that this was an emergency, because they were just waved on through the checkpoints. Georgia Reynolds met them at the final stop. "Thank God, Mr. Ellison. She just started rocking."
"I'll take care of it, Georgia." Jim rushed off to the visitor's room while Blair and Georgia followed slightly slower.
"What happened?" she asked. "I know Mr. Ellison wouldn't be late without a good reason. He knows how Mrs. Ellison gets. Brad and Martin were getting worried that they would have to restrain her. It's not a good feeling to have to restrain a woman in her condition, you know? But since we can't give her anything to calm her down..."
"Jim was injured on the job. He had to leave the hospital against medical advice just to get here at all," Blair explained. Damn. He'd been hoping Jim had been overly concerned about Alex's reaction to his tardiness. But apparently, the staff agreed with him.
Georgia stopped him with a touch on his arm as they reached the doorway of the visitor's room. The other inmates had backed away from Alex, giving her and Jim a wide berth as they milled around, watching television and playing games. Blair watched as Jim crouched down before the figure who rocked back and forth on the edge of a cushioned chair. She showed no sign that she knew he was there, her eyes not opening.
Carefully, Jim raised her right hand and matched his left to it. On its own, her left hand came up, seeking his. When their hands were linked, he started speaking softly. "Alex, it's Jim. You not only hear my voice, but you can feel my hands against yours. You can smell my scent. Taste me, Alex." She leaned forward and a tongue lapped his face timidly, before her lips settled against his. "Now, look at me, sweetheart. I'm here, truly here."
Blue eyes opened, staring intently at the ones in front of her. "I thought you were dead," she whispered. "You didn't come and I thought you were dead."
"I know. I'm sorry, Alex. I came as quickly as I could." He winced as his body made it known it didn't liked the crouched position he was in. He started to stand, but she tugged him back down.
"Why is there pain in your eyes?" Her nostrils flared. "I smell betadine and blood. You are injured?" Before he could reply, she was picking at his jacket, frantically removing it, and tugging at the T-shirt beneath. "Show me! Show me!"
Blair moved forward, despite Georgia's restraining hand. "Stop it, Alex! You're hurting him," he hissed.
Alex froze, her hands dropping to her sides. With Blair's help, Jim stood, and although his partner tried to stop him, he slipped out of the shirt, allowing Alex to see his injuries. "Nothing life-threatening. They gave me drugs in the hospital that made me sleep. That's why I was late."
"Always drugs. Always sleep," she muttered as she stood and surveyed the damage. "Not life-threatening, but painful," she diagnosed. "Come. I will care for you." She led the way back to her room. "Take off your pants, and get into bed," she ordered.
"Alex," Jim began.
"Do it."
He complied because it was easier than arguing. Besides, bed didn't sound like such a bad idea. All the hurrying had started his head to hurting again...as if it had ever stopped hurting. "It is time for his medicine?" she asked Blair, who had followed them.
"Yes." He fumbled into his jacket pocket for the bottle of pills. Good thing the guards hadn't searched them upon entrance. He read the instructions and poured two into his hand. When he looked up, she stood with one hand out, the other holding a glass of water. Having seen the look in his own Sentinel's eyes, he handed her the pills without comment, watching as she gently urged Jim to take them.
Then she curled around him and stroked his head. "Go," she ordered, not looking around. "He will sleep, and I will keep watch."
Blair backed out of the room, bemused by what he'd just seen. So, Alex did have the Sentinel directive to protect. Somehow it had short-circuited on the outside, but here in the closed environment, or maybe it just had to do with Jim, it was reasserting itself. She was in protect-mode, just as Jim was whenever the Guide was injured. That was somewhat reassuring, considering Jim was in her clutches, but it would have been even more comforting if she just happened to be rational.
He took his backpack and headed back to the day room. Georgia said he could sit at the nurses station if he wanted to, but by habit he was a people watcher, so he watched the inmates of St. Anne's. Even though they were mostly insane, and all highly dangerous, it was interesting to see the same personalities that he would find in a nursing home, a daycare center, even the mall. There were the loners, the overeager playmates, the bullies, the facilitators....
"Mr. Sandburg, why don't you go get some lunch?" Georgia asked him, and he glanced up at the wall clock, surprised to see it was afternoon. "We can get you a plate from the kitchen, but I think you'd be better off on your own. Just a little warning."
He thanked her and slipped off his glasses. "Can I bring something back for you, or the staff?"
"No wonder you and Mr. Ellison are friends. You are both so polite. If I take orders, would you mind?"
Blair shook his head. He wasn't doing anything useful anyway. "Have you checked on Mr. Ellison lately?"
She nodded. "They're both sleeping. Well, at least I thought they were both asleep, so I tipped in to see how they were doing. Then her eyes popped opened and she growled at me, so I just left them alone. She won't hurt him, you know."
"I know."
"Some people around here, they don't understand why such a sweet man married such a she-devil. But if they could see the two of them together. He's so patient and gentle with her. I think he looks at her and sees something totally different from what the rest of us see. Maybe he knew her before she became what she is."
"Maybe." He hadn't thought about that. Maybe she and Jim had met in another life. Or maybe the Sentinel saw the Sentinel in her, and not the other crap. There was something inside her that called out to his partner, not just here, but in Sierra Verde as well. The lust had been biological, but the caring was more personal, more Jim and Alex than Sentinel and Sentinel. Damn. What a paper that would make.
"And the way she looks at him.... It's like with him, she feels safe. She doesn't have to fight the world because her battles are his. She trusts him to keep her protected."
I know how that feels. "Her and her child," he said aloud.
Georgia nodded. "That's the sad part. I don't know what's going to happen to Mrs. Ellison after the baby's born. Without him coming to see her every week..."
Blair decided he needed to face the inevitable, which meant saying it aloud. "You don't have to worry about that. Jim will be here."
"But I thought--"
He shook his head. "You were right about Jim being a sweet man. He may have married her because she was pregnant, but he won't leave her after the baby is born. She's his wife now. He takes that responsibility quite seriously."
"But she's never getting out of here," Georgia protested. "And even if she did, she would just be hauled over to the regular women's prison."
"He knows that."
"Damn. I wish I could be loved like that," she murmured, glancing sheepishly at Blair when she realized she'd cursed aloud. The administration frowned on such occurrences."Sorry, Mr. Sandburg."
He shrugged off her apology and agreed to wait while Georgia went to ask the others what they wanted for lunch. He leaned back against the wall, thinking about what she'd said. He knew what she meant, because he knew how great it felt. He was loved like that. If he was in this same situation, Jim wouldn't turn his back on him. Why then had he expected him to let Alex go? Because he barely knew her? Because she had tried to kill both of them? None of that was enough to cause Jim Ellison to betray a covenant. And that's what he had with both of them. He had sworn to protect the Guide, and a Sentinel-- one who was a true Sentinel down to his soul-- would always protect another Sentinel. Even in Cascade, when Alex had Jim's hackles all up, he hadn't been able to take her down because he couldn't bring himself to do any permanent damage to her. Damn, it was a good thing Megan had been around. Jim probably would have let her kill him.
Well, on the bright side, he didn't have to worry about Alex moving in with them. He would probably have to babysit Davy on Saturdays, at least until the kid was old enough to visit his mother. That might not be too bad. Might be nice to have a Sentinel around who wouldn't constantly argue with him. He laughed. Who was he kidding? The junior Sentinel would probably be just as stubborn as the senior. And you thought you were jumping through hoops now....
He had to get one of the guards to help him carry back all the orders, but his grumbling about seeing Seattle on a food tour, was put aside as he saw how grateful they all were. Armed with two bags from Wonder Burger, he entered Alex's room. Of course, she had known he was coming, and blue eyes cut into him as the door closed. Jim didn't move. "Lunch?" he offered cautiously.
She took one of the bags and sniffed it. She glared at him. "Sit." He started to drop to the floor, then spied the chair in the corner.
He watched, fascinated, as she waved the bag beneath Jim's nose. He saw the nostrils twitch, then the eyes open. She watched him closely for any disorientation, and only relaxed when he smiled and said, "Lunch time, Alex?"
She nodded. "He brought it." Jim struggled to sit up and she dropped the bag to help him. Blair moved to assist. He was surprised when she didn't protest.
"Thanks, Chief," Jim said, when he was comfortable.
"Thank you," she repeated stiltedly.
Blair bobbed his head, then focused on his friend. "How you feeling, man?"
"The sleep helped. Thank you for watching over me," he told Alex.
She bobbed her head as Blair had done. "You need to eat." She tried to reach down for the bag, but her bulging stomach got in the way. Blair retrieved the bag for her, and went back to his chair and food. He didn't eat the grease-laden burgers too often, but he hadn't wanted to confuse or alarm Alex by eating something different. She probably would have thought he had poisoned the hamburger if he'd bought himself a salad.
Playing observer again, he watched them do something which would have creeped him out just a couple of hours ago. Alex had insisted on feeding Jim, and he had refused to eat unless she was eating, so they both fed each other. As romantic as it sounded, Blair saw the concern for each other in both their eyes. Damn, if Jim was not turning Alex into a typical "mother henning" Sentinel.
After lunch was consumed, he was surprised when Alex didn't kick him out again. Instead, she allowed him to stay as Jim asked her about her week, what she had eaten, the exercises she'd done, what the doctor had said to her. He was utterly moved as he watched Jim brush and comb her hair, neatly braiding it when he finished. It wasn't often that Jim let his tender side show, but he wasn't holding back with Alex. Every action, every gesture he made, cocooned her in gentleness and caring. No wonder she sat there every Saturday waiting on him.
Blair hadn't bothered to look at his watch, and was too busy making observations to notice the passing of time, but Alex suddenly stiffened, and told Jim it was time for him to leave. He agreed, and she helped him dress. He bent down and said something low against her protruding belly, then kissed her cheek. "Ready to roll, Chief?"
Blair nodded, having gathered his belongings. He was just about to walk out the door, when a hand on his arm stopped him. He looked around in surprise. Alex released him immediately. "Take care of him."
He started to say something curt, when he realized that she wasn't giving him an order, but making a plea. "I will, Alex. I promise you." She nodded and stepped back.
As he followed his partner to the parking lot, Blair realized he didn't hate Alex anymore.
*****
"I have a confession to make," Jim said reluctantly as Blair drove them back to Cascade. This being "chauffeured" was a habit he could get used to-- as long as it was Blair in the driver's seat. He couldn't imagine having his fate in anyone else's hands for very long.
Blair knew how it went now-- if he breathed or blinked successively three or four times, someone was going to confront him with bad news-- so he wasn't surprised to hear Jim's hesitant admission. "Go ahead and spill, man," he said casually. He'd gotten good at hiding his initial reactions, especially after puking over Jim's wedding announcement. Some would call it maturity; he called it his best act yet.
"I think I wanted yesterday to happen."
He frowned. "You wanted what to happen, Jim?"
"I wanted...I wanted it all-- the action, the violence, the...pain."
"Hold that thought, man." He spied a Rest Area Ahead sign and moved over to the right lane. Only when he had parked the truck did he turn to Jim, and ask him to explain. There was no way in hell he was going to listen to his best friend admit to masochistic feelings while he was driving.
"I was out doing some legwork for Taggert. That's what I've been relegated to, Chief-- errand boy for the other detectives. Why? Because I'm no good anywhere else. Simon knows if he gives me a big case, I not only have to drop it on Saturdays, but it's anyone's guess when St. Anne's will call, and I have to race up here. I know Simon means well. I know I should be grateful. And I also know he's right; I will drop everything to see about Alex and David. But knowing it, and living with it, are two different things. I'm a 'doer', Chief, and 'doing' has saved my sanity more times than I can count. I did my job in Peru after the helicopter crash. I did my job after the divorce. I did my job after these senses came online. You were there for that one, remember? I dug myself deep into the bombing case, even dragging you into it. That's how I cope. Whether that's good or bad, I don't know. But it's how I survive.
"Only now, I can't lose myself in my work. I have to be on call for Alex. I have to smile for Alex. I have to be patient, and hold my temper, and hold my tongue, and hold my thoughts, and hold me back...for Alex. So, here I am, shuttling paperwork for my co-workers when a call goes out over the radio. I respond, although others are closer, although I know it's Friday, and I really can't commit myself to anything because the next day is Saturday, and Saturdays belong to Alex. I pull into the lot at the convenience store, and I see the uniforms have scared the man into stealing the truck. I see the little boy, hear his heart pounding away, his mother still in the store, screaming that her son is only four. Something in me snaps. I plant myself in front of the truck, and I just let instinct take over. I don't think of Alex and David. I don't even think of the tiny kidnapping victim. I only know that I'm acting, 'doing', and it feels right and good.
"The scrapes and bumps don't bother me. I don't even know if I remember grabbing the kid and getting him out of the truck. I just remember chasing the guy, realizing the vehicle is going to blow, then plucking him out of there. Then, as we're both standing there, watching the fireball, I realize I feel good. I mean like high. I was jazzed, Chief, and I wanted to do it again, at that moment, that night, tomorrow.... I could smell my own blood, and it excited me. It still excites me."
Blair forced his fingers to ungrip the steering wheel. "Do you know how scary you're sounding, Jim? You're talking about risking your life, spilling your own blood, for what? Because it excites you, because you're 'doing' something? Yeah, Jim, you're doing something all right; you're courting your death and bleeding."
Jim threshed his hair with his fingers. "I know, Chief. That's why I thought I should tell you."
Blair got out of the truck, pacing along the semi-empty lot. He knew he didn't have to talk loud for Jim to hear him. "I knew this would happen. I knew it! She's sliding off that goddamned edge and she's taking you with her, man. Just when I thought.... No! She's not going to win this way. You fight her, Jim! If you need to control something, control me! You want me to scrub the bathroom floor with my toothbrush, fine! You want me to cook all the meals--"
"You already do," Jim said ruefully.
"See? You do have control, Jim. You want to blow up at me because I forgot to do the laundry--"
"Geez, Sandburg! I'm down to my last pair of underwear."
"Good, Jim. Get mad if you want." He stopped, trying to remember the last time Jim had been mad at him. Before the pregnancy. "Damn it, Jim! You've been treating me just like you've been treating Alex. Kid gloves all the way. I'm not some psychopath, man! Nor am I a pregnant woman. I'm a man, perfectly capable of listening to you bitch about some inconsequential violation of one of your anal rules! So is Simon, and everyone else at the station." He looked at his partner in horror. "When was the last time you raised your voice at anyone, Jim? When was the last time you glared at someone invading your personal space, or threatened someone who looked at you wrong? When was the last time you were Jim Ellison?"
"I don't know, Chief," he said softly. "I don't know."
Blair couldn't believe he hadn't seen what was happening, but that was okay, because now he was putting a stop to it. "When we get home, Detective Ellison, I'm going to kick your ass. And if you don't fight back, I'm going to kick it some more. Understand?"
"Up yours, Sandburg."
Blair slammed the door and started the truck. "That's the spirit, Jim. Remember it when you're begging for mercy. One-on-one at the hoops?"
Jim looked at him balefully. "I'm an injured man, remember?"
"You're the one who wanted to feel pain, pal."
"We'll see who's feeling pain tomorrow, Chief."
Blair laughed in relief. "Looking forward to it, man."
Jim was asleep before the truck pulled back onto the highway. Blair shrugged and figured the prescribed "ass kicking" could wait a day or two. At least Jim's could, but he wasn't sure about his. From almost the beginning of this whole mess, he had been waiting for Jim to explode. The man had been pressured into one life altering decision after another. If he had reverted to the cold and unapproachable Jim of the past, or had gone off because someone was munching potato chips too loudly, Blair would have understood.
But instead of a high drama explosion, Jim had had a quiet implosion, a meltdown. He had just held everything in until it overwhelmed him, and manifested itself in dangerous behavior. Why? From what he knew, Jim hadn't repressed himself that tightly since childhood. Why had he reverted to his old coping mechanism? Why not tell everyone to fuck off, or get into a barroom brawl, or something that would have drained, or at least eased, the pressures he was under? Why the internalizing?
The answer, when it came, hit like a load of bricks. The young Jimmy had learned to internalize because he was afraid of losing his father's love. This Jim was internalizing...because he thought he would lose his best friend's love. He knew how Blair felt about Alex, and the entire situation. Yeah, he had said he would be supportive, had shown that he could be supportive, but Jim hadn't wanted to push the envelope. He wasn't going to be led back to last spring where cold words, and even colder actions, had pushed his Guide away...had left him open to attack. So whatever it took, how ever many false smiles, and calm acceptances he had to make, in order not to push Blair away, he had done so...and nearly killed himself in the end.
Man, are we ever going to get past what Alex did? Just when I get around to thinking she's not so bad, something comes up and I'm right back at that fountain again. But the thing is, this has nothing to do with the pregnancy. Even if Alex's name was never mentioned again after Sierra Verde, we would have come to this point eventually.... What had Jim said to him when he said he focused on the moment of unification, when he and Jim had been one? The Sentinel had told him that he couldn't spend his life in that moment. That was true. Just as it was true that neither of them could spend their lives in the other moments of that terrible time. What was done, was done. Time to get over it. "Detach with love," his mom would say. He could do it; even the love part. He no longer hated Alex, and she was going to be the mother of someone very special in Jim's life, and thereby, in the Guide's life. He could love her for giving Jim another person to love; for giving Jim another person who would love him.
Now, he just had to convince Jim that he could do the same. He already loved Alex. It showed in the patient way he took care of her, the shit he put up with. It was possible the Sentinel was already primed to detach from those moments. Maybe all he needed was his Guide's permission.
For the first time since all of this had started, Blair was ready to give that permission, with an open heart and no regrets. Alex was no longer a nightmare, just a memory, relegated to the pile of other memories in his head.
Where she belonged.
December
"Ellison," Jim said into the phone, dismissing the odd echo in the room. Major Crimes was empty, nothing but the furniture to absorb the sound of his voice as he talked. It was Christmas Day, and he was the only one on duty in most of the station. Crime never took a holiday, but it rarely ran rampant on Christmas. He sighed, recognizing the breathing on the other end of the line before the voice spoke. "Sandburg, why are you calling me again?...It's dead around here, that's how it's going...Why aren't you with your mother? I thought that was the whole idea, you spending the holidays with Naomi, not on the phone with me...I've already talked to you once today, Chief. You called at the crack of dawn to wish me Merry Christmas, remember?...Yeah, I'll be careful...even if I'm just crossing the street. Now go! Have fun. I'll talk to you later, preferably tomorrow. Bye, Chief."
He replaced the receiver, shaking his head at his overprotective partner. It had taken him two weeks to convince Blair that he ought to accept his mother's invitation of staying at some re-opened Arizona commune for the holidays. He probably wouldn't have known of the invitation at all, but for the fact they had promised not to keep any secrets from each other, except in cases of "happy" surprises. That had been the gist of the discussion after the incident with the convenience store kidnapping. No secret hurts, no second-guessing how the other felt, no pretending with emotions. Not even the little automatic lies, like when answering questions such as how did you sleep last night, or how is it going, man, were to be tolerated. If you had a nightmare, you explained it. If boredom was driving you out of your skull, you admitted it. It was definitely a different way of living, but it was counterbalanced by his trips to St. Anne's, where he had to tell Alex that she was doing fine and ignore the signs, seen and sensed, that her rate of decline was increasing. Physically, she appeared to be doing better. She ate regularly, drank the amount of water her doctor suggested. Only Jim knew how much she had to actually "force" herself to do these things. He knew how the voices told her not to obey, how they pushed her to give bulimia a try-- take in the sustenance, then expel it in privacy. He'd told the staff to keep an eye on her, to make sure she wasn't playing any games, but so far, the Alex that he was in contact with held control.
Jim went back to the report he was working on until something flickered in his peripheral vision. He jerked his head around, but as had happened several times earlier, nothing was there. He felt a little guilty for not telling Blair about these occurrences, but he truly didn't think it was a glitch in his senses. It felt more like a warning, a premonition.... Shit. Maybe Blair wasn't being overprotective on principle. Maybe he was picking up what the Sentinel was picking up. He was Guide and shaman, and the two of them were linked in a weird psychic way. And whatever he was sensing, was definitely in the weird psychic way realm. Perhaps, with Blair picking it up way in Arizona, he should give it a little more credence and explore it.
Making sure no one was nearby, hell, there was no one on the entire floor, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Hearing Blair's soothing mantra in his head, he slipped into a light trance. Immediately, the flicker he'd been seeing became clear. It was a dense black cloud, and it folded in around him, trapping him inside its hazy nimbus. Before he could react, yell or something, his breath was taken away by a sharp stab of pain in his abdomen. Gasping, he fell to his knees. His mind screamed for him to call out for his Guide, but somewhere inside he remembered Blair wasn't there. And, boy, was he going to pissed when he found out what had happened. Sorry, Chief. I wasn't trying to hypnotize myself or anything. I was just trying to tap into my unconscious like you taught me. But I know how to get myself out of this, don't I? I need to focus really hard. Like on pain. No, not the dull ache remaining in my gut, but something sharper, something like.... He patted himself and smiled when he felt something in his shirt pocket. A pen. Better than nothing. He removed it and held down the plunger so that the metal tip was at its longest. Then he jabbed it into the palm of his left hand.
It was a tie which he was aware of first: the stinging of his hand, or the shrilling of his cell phone. Even as he noticed the blood pouring from his hand, he was reaching for the phone on top of his desk. "Ellison," he barked as he searched for something to wrap around his hand. His frantic movements stilled as he listened to his caller. When the call ended, he sat quietly for a few seconds, and gathered himself. He punched in a speed dial number and calmly found a roll of gauze in his desk. Blair was always in need of first aid. "Simon, it's Jim," he said as the phone was answered. "I just got a call from Seattle. Alex has gone into labor...yeah, seven weeks early...They're transferring her to King County Medical...A good neonatal set up there...No, I'm good to drive. Stay with Daryl, sir. This could take a while, you know. Yeah, I'll keep you informed... Thank you. You have his number?...Of course he did. I'll talk to you later, Simon."
His hand bandaged, Jim went and informed the desk sergeant of his emergency, then left for Seattle... where he now knew the dark cloud waited for him.
*****
The armed guard standing in front of the door would have told him where Alex was, even if he hadn't recognized her scent. He impatiently waited for the man to check his I.D., ignored the look that said, "How can you call yourself a lawman and be married to that murdering bitch", and finally went inside. Chaos ruled as machinery blipped and beeped, staff talked and walked urgently from point to point. Jim blanked it all out and focused on Alex. She was pale and sweaty, her heartbeat slower than it should have been. In two steps, he was at her side.
"Alex, baby, it's Jim." His hand wiped away the sweat from her brow.
"Jim." Blue eyes opened, bloodshot and slightly unfocused. "I'm sorry, Jim. I tried. I really did."
"I know, Alex. And you did fine, you hear me?"
She shook her head. "Two months too soon. I thought I could make it. I thought I was strong enough. For you. For David."
"You were strong enough. I'm so proud of you, Alex. David will be fine. He's a fighter. Has to be with parents like us, huh? And we can't blame him for being impatient. He gets that naturally too."
"I can't focus. I can't tell if he's okay. Please, Jim?"
Jim closed his eyes and placed a hand on her stomach. The strain on the muscles beneath his hand was jarring, but he made it past that, and to the infant already angled for his trip down the birth canal. With relief, he noted no great distress on his son. "Good boy, Davy," he murmured. "Our son is fine, Alex. Just eager to leave the nest."
"No, the nest is kicking him out," she replied bitterly. "Couldn't even do this right."
"Stop it," he said sharply. "Don't go sliding into that abyss quite yet, Alex. Our boy needs you here. I need you here. Give me your hand. Find the link if you need to. We can do this, sweetheart, together."
She nodded, and he kissed her forehead, then looked inquiringly at the obstetrician. Dr. Laura Cowan had been the doctor recommended by Georgia Reynolds, and Jim was convinced she was a godsend. She was good with Alex, and had accepted Blair's notes and research, consulting them before prescribing any medications.
Dr. Cowan smiled encouragingly at the agitated father-to-be. As soon as he'd walked into the room, her eyes had watched the bank of monitors wired to her patient and the baby. Just as she had expected, the levels on all had approached norm as soon as he made contact with his wife and child. She had watched this phenomena since Alex Ellison became her patient. Just a single touch could settle her unstable charge. "If you hadn't gotten here in the next twenty minutes, I think we would have had to do a Caesarian. But now, I think there's a chance we can do this naturally."
"That's good?" Jim asked.
"Yes, for both of them, unless the strain becomes too great. Then we'll have to reassess the situation. But for now, natural is a go."
"See, baby? I told you you were doing good." He looked alarmed suddenly.
Dr. Cowan glanced at the monitor. "A contraction is about to start." He had known it was beginning, hadn't he? "Remember what I said about breathing, Alex?"
"Breathe through it with short breaths," she recited.
"Squeeze my hand," Jim ordered. "Let me take some of the pain."
A nurse looked at the doctor with an amused roll of the eyes. Where the hell had that myth come from? That husbands could take away the pain with their presence? She'd had three children herself, and although her husband had been present, the pain had been all hers.
But her husband hadn't been Jim, nor a Sentinel. Through the link, he shared the pain and strength of the contraction. He also shared something else, which left him shaken and frightened. "Alex?" he asked quickly as the contraction abated.
Strangely calm eyes locked with his. "You saw it too?"
He nodded, not realizing he still gripped her hands tightly. The vision had been quick, but very detailed. The interior of the temple. The spotted jaguar lay on her side, panting heavily. Beside her was a tiny black kitten, still covered in afterbirth. Watching over them was the dark male jaguar. The female tried to lift her head in order to wash her offspring, but she was too weak. The male stepped forward and licked the kitten clean. The infant mewed, and shuffled toward its father. The big jaguar used its powerful, but gentle, jaws to pick the little one up by the scruff of his neck. For a brief moment, he looked at the female, then turned away. She watched her mate and offspring leave, joined at the entrance of the temple by a gray wolf. Then she closed her eyes and died.
"No," Jim nearly shouted. "Fight it, Alex."
"No," Alex countered, at peace with the vision. "It's for the best. You know it is, Jim."
Although he didn't want to accept it, she was right. Their choice of endings was limited. Her sanity was spiraling out of control. Even with the intervention of modern medicine, in time she wouldn't even be aware that she was alive, much less enjoying it. "I don't want to exist as merely a burden for you and David. I know David now.... To not know him later will be unbearable for all of us. Let me do this, Jim, then let me go. Please?"
"Sorry to interrupt," Dr. Cowan called, wondering what she was interrupting. Alex had had the contraction, but she and Jim had locked gazes, and blocked out the rest of the world. "This is Dr. Michael Chin. He's the best neonatalogist in the northwest. He's going to take care of little David as soon as he makes his appearance."
"Mr. and Mrs. Ellison, I just want to assure you that we have a team awaiting the birth of your son. He will be in the best of care."
Jim looked at Alex, who nodded. "Is your team ready?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Because the baby's coming now."
Both doctors whipped around to the monitors. Shit. How the hell.... By the time everyone was prepped, the head was crowning. Jim barely had a glimpse of his son before he was placed in an incubator and rolled away. Alex didn't get to see him at all.
"Yes, I did," she said softly, flexing her hand to remind him they were still linked. She had seen what he had seen. "Now, go to him, and don't look back, Jim. I've done what I was supposed to do. Not many people can die knowing that. Thank you for making that possible."
He lifted her hand to his mouth. "Thank you for giving me David. If only for that, I would love you. But that's not the only reason, Alex." He closed his eyes, then opened them to seek hers. Blue met blue. "I love you, Alex Ellison."
She smiled as his lips brushed her hand. "I know. I love...loved...you too, Jim. And our son. Tell him that one day, please?"
"Every day," Jim vowed.
She could feel the darkness encroaching, knowing the only reason it hadn't reached for her sooner was because of the man before her. Briefly, his light had been hers, and together.... But it was too late for her, and he had his own light waiting for him. "Go," she ordered, her eyes closing as a tear spilled down her cheek. She felt the pressure of his lips against hers, then she was alone. Smiling as her senses kicked in one last time to allow her to hear her husband and child, Alex Barnes Ellison let go.
*****
Blair almost missed the officer standing to the side as he exited the plane at SeaTac airport. But just as he was hurrying by, he caught the name Sandburg on the card the man was holding. "I'm Blair Sandburg. You looking for me?"
"Yes, sir. Captain Banks requested an escort for you to King County Medical."
Blair was grateful for Simon's foresight. He had been in perpetual motion ever since the captain had called and told him about Alex going into labor: a mad dash to the airport, explaining the medical emergency, finally getting a flight, gnawing his fingers and worrying as the big machine sped him to his destination. He knew he shouldn't have left Jim. No matter how hard the big lug had pushed him to go. "Next year will be David's first Christmas," Jim had argued. "You'll probably think I won't be able to handle it on my own, and you'll probably be right, so escape while you can, Chief." Of course, with Alex going into labor so early, that argument could be null and void. God, Jim. Is that what's going through your mind now, too?
The thought of Jim's pain kept him silent as the patrol car maneuvered through the streets of Seattle. Had his partner gone through all this shit for nothing? For a cold headstone somewhere with David Joseph Ellison written on it? No, the fates, gods, God, whoever, whatever, couldn't possibly be that cruel...not to Jim, one of the best men, no, best human beings he'd ever met.
He thanked the cop, and went to the main desk at the hospital. He knew the news wasn't good when the nurse instructed him to wait for one of the doctors. Subdued, he rode the elevator up to the neonatal center a few minutes later. He found Jim sitting tensely in the waiting room. "Hey, buddy," he called softly as he slid into a chair.
"Hey, Chief. You made good time."
A hand flopped in his direction, and Blair placed his own on top of it. If somebody wanted to say something about two men holding hands in public, so be it. Jim needed the contact. Hell, he needed the contact. "Dr. Cowan filled me in downstairs."
"An aneurysm, they think."
"But Davy's holding his own?"
Jim closed his eyes. "A miracle smaller than a bag of sugar, but pure Ellison. Someone once told me they were stubborn sons of bitches." A small smile.
"Never met one yet who wasn't. That's including your dad, brother, and cousin." Oops. Flashback to the lighthouse. Never pretty.
"And then there's me, right?"
Blair grinned. "Sorry, Jim, but no one compares to you, man. You've taken the art of being a son of a bitch to new heights. You should be so proud."
"Be thankful we're in a hospital, Sandburg. Be extremely thankful."
Silence reigned for a few minutes. "You need anything, man? Coffee, food?"
Jim paled at the thought of something in his stomach. "I'm cool. If I sit here long enough, someone feels sorry for me and lets me have a glimpse of David. At least that's worked for the last couple of hours. Not much to see though. They have him so wired and tubed...."
"To help him get better," Blair reminded him.
"Yeah, that's what they tell me." He glanced at his watch, wincing when he saw the wedding band on his finger. "Want to call Simon for me? I refused to let him come because this is his year to have Daryl for Christmas, but he insists on hourly check ins. Maybe now that you're here, he'll quit being so overprotective."
"I can do that for you, Jim. I want to thank him anyway. He arranged for a cop to pick me up at the airport."
Jim nodded and squeezed Blair's hand before the other man got up. "It's good to have friends, Chief."
Perhaps an hour had passed in silence when Blair felt Jim stiffen. He looked up to see an Asian man approaching, a doctor, if his white coat was any indication. "Dr. Chin," Jim said hollowly. "David's specialist."
"Mr. Ellison, there is a problem," Dr. Chin began, then stepped back in alarm as his patient's father lost all color. So too, did the man sitting beside him. "No, no, not that kind of problem," he said quickly, berating himself for his poor bedside manner. "Your little boy is doing well for his size. But he seems to be having an allergic reaction to the tape we're using to keep the tubing in place. Quite frankly, we've never had this problem, and I was wondering--"
"I may be able to help," Blair said as his heart settled back into his chest. A quick glance at Jim told him the Sentinel hadn't recovered that far yet. "Is Dr. Cowan still here? I gave her a notebook of..."
While Blair talked, Jim tried to put back together the pieces of him that had shattered when the doctor had said there was a problem. He hadn't been able to imprint David onto his senses yet. The brief times he'd been allowed to see him had been chaotic, and without his Guide to center him, his control had been iffy at best. So he had to rely on the doctors and nurses to tell him how his son was doing. In between the times they talked to him, he had only his imagination to fall back on, and so far the picture it had painted was bleak, and cold, and empty.
"Come on, Jim," Blair said, tugging on his friend who had not technically zoned, but was definitely lost in a world of his own. He hadn't even reacted when Dr. Cowan had arrived and the three of them had held a mini-conference in front of him.
"Where are we going?"
"You are going to be with Davy. We just have to get you scrubbed up and gowned."
Suddenly, Jim was back in the here and now. "What did you do, Sandburg?" he asked in amazement. The doctor had informed him that it would be a few days before David could be handled.
"Not me, but Dr. Cowan. She convinced Dr. Chin that the best thing he could do for his patient was to let his father hold him. Seems she monitored your, uh, touching skills with Alex." His voice dropped as he mentioned her. "She thinks you have a healing touch."
"Alex and I were...you know, the Sentinel thing."
Blair smiled. "I'm not a Sentinel, man, and I react to it too."
"You're my Guide."
"And David is your son, and maybe a Sentinel too. I think Dr. Chin is going to be wowed."
"Okay, Mr. Ellison. If you'll have a seat in the rocker..." the nurse prattled on as she carefully lifted the tiny infant from the bassinet, careful of his assortment of attached miniature tubes and wires. She was pleasantly pleased that they were doing this. In her opinion, all babies, no matter what size, needed to be held and bathed in love. Cold plastic was no comfort when you were used to being snuggled up inside of mom. Of course, mom wasn't here in this case, but dad, big and gruff though he was, seemed perfectly capable of giving his little boy the love he needed. She smiled as the detective settled his son in his hands. Perfectly capable.
"Hi, Davy," Jim said, training his senses on the small form which fit comfortably in one hand, although he used two. There was something very familiar.... The allergic reaction to the tape had indicated David had at least one heightened sense, but Jim grinned as he realized he knew David had all five. Guess it takes one to know one, huh, little panther? "This is Dad. You recognize the voice, huh?" he murmured as the little down-covered head turned in his direction. He stroked a finger across the quivering belly. His breaths were so shallow and the heartbeat so fast. Normal, the nurse had said.
"Mama's gone, so you won't be hearing her anymore. I'm sorry about that. Yeah, I'm going to miss her too. But we're tough, strong men. We'll get through it. We'll manage without her. If that means crying a little, or sucking our thumbs, that's okay. Even men cry sometimes, son. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. But you wouldn't do that, would you? No, you know to listen to Dad, don't you? Because no one will ever love you as much as I do. No one will ever protect you as fiercely. You have a problem, you just come to me. If I don't have the answer, together we'll find someone who does. And you know who that person is probably going to be? Your Uncle Blair, that's who. He knows everything, but we don't let him know we know that, okay? He takes care of us, because we're special. I'll tell you about that later...when you're a little older, and we have a bit more privacy.
"What's that? Tell you more about Uncle Blair? He's got long hair. Oh, sure, you can tug on it all you like. And sometimes he wears glasses. Well, he likes to chew on the handle, so maybe he'll share with you. Hmm? He works with me. No, he's not a cop. He's something even better. He's an anthropologist. Yes, that is a very big word, but he's man enough to fit it. He's your dad's partner, and best friend. He's going to be your best friend too. You'll see."
Out of hearing range, Blair stood with the two doctors as they looked at the monitors through the pane of glass separating them from the isolation room. As a preemie, David's immune system was underdeveloped, so care was taken to minimize his exposure risk. But just as the doctors could see the machines, Blair could see Jim with his son, talking patiently, his fingers touching him from head to toe. Of course, Davy's numbers were stabilizing. Who the hell wouldn't feel better in Jim's care?
A half hour later, David was secure in his bassinet, minus several of his attachments. Jim shrugged out of the paper gown and met Blair in the hall outside of Neonatal. "That was..." he began, then found himself at a loss for words. He shook his head as the thoughts backed up.
"It's okay, Jim," Blair said gently. "Maybe by the time he's crossing the stage, getting his diploma, you'll be able to describe it to me."
"We'll have to get there early, to get a good seat. Have to make sure David sees us."
Like you couldn't see your father? Because the bastard hadn't shown up? "Best seats in the house. I promise you, man. Hey, I saw a motel across the street when the officer let me out. How about I get us a room, and we give the staff here a break from our ugly mugs?"
Jim shook his head. "I figured I'd camp out here for a while longer."
Blair sighed. That was the reaction he was afraid he was going to get when he made the suggestion. But he didn't like how shocky Jim was looking. Of course, he had every right to look like the walking dead, and who knew the last time he'd eaten.... Time to play hardball. "Sure, thing, Jim. I'm just suffering a little jet lag, that's all. I hadn't planned on doing all this flying today."
"I know, Chief," Jim said sympathetically. "Why don't you go ahead and get that room?"
His partner stared at him. "And leave you here by yourself? I couldn't do that, man. I mean, you couldn't do that if our positions were reversed, could you?"
Although Jim's thought processes were sluggish by now, he figured out he'd been played. "I hate you, Sandburg," he growled tiredly.
"You'll get over it."
Jim cocked his head to one side, and picked up his son's heartbeat. Still incredibly fast, but it was strong and steady. "For an hour, Sandburg. Two at the most."
"Gotcha. We can have the front desk do a wake-up call, if you don't trust me."
Jim smiled. "I trust you."
Catch him. Blair heard the odd sibilant whisper, and reached out toward Jim automatically, not surprised to find his arms full of falling Sentinel. Unable to hold the dead weight, he sank down to the floor with his arm's around Jim's chest to break his fall. Seeing that help was already on the way, he cradled the familiar head and smiled. "Guess we don't have to worry about that hotel room, huh? And Alex?" he added, recognizing the whisperer. "Thanks. I remember our last conversation. The promise still holds. For both of them."
Thank you.
*****
Jim opened his eyes, saw the white walls, felt the needle in the back of his hand, and knew that it hadn't been a bad dream. "Shit," he muttered.
"Good morning to you too," Blair replied brightly. "I take it you remember what happened?"
"I passed out in the middle of a hospital."
His partner laughed. "Passed out is so plain. I was thinking more along the lines of swooned. It was so graceful."
"I hate you."
"I think we covered that ground last night, didn't we?"
"How's David?"
"You tell me."
Jim gave a listen and relaxed. "He sounds fine."
"He is fine. I was just up to see him an hour ago. Got all the nurses wrapped around that tiny little finger of his."
"Takes after his old man, huh?" Jim questioned proudly.
"How about his Uncle Blair instead?"
Jim coughed to hide a laugh. "I think he'd be better off emulating someone else than either of us, Chief."
"Yeah, like who? His Uncle Simon? Poor little guy. Doesn't have a chance in hell of getting a decent woman and keeping her, does he?"
"It's definitely the keeping part we have problems with," Jim said sadly. "Not even mothers." He averted his eyes, not ready to get into that. "What happened?"
"You were exhausted, Jim, and suffering from delayed shock."
He frowned. "I've been exhausted before, Sandburg, and have managed not to--"
"Swoon, Jim. The word is swoon," Blair reminded him with a grin. "And probably the only reason you haven't is because I, Simon, or one of the others supply you with plenty of coffee."
"The caffeine gets me wired enough to keep on?"
"Not the caffeine, the sugar."
"I don't take sugar in my coffee."
Blair bit his lip. "When we're in the middle of a situation you do."
Blue eyes narrowed. "What does that mean? You lace my coffee?"
"Uh-huh. You're so focused, you don't even notice."
Jim shook his head in disbelief. "All of you?"
Blair shrugged. "Well, so many times, it's me you're freaking out over, so yeah, I had to tell the guys how to handle you. Listen to me, Jim. You're a big man, and you use a lot of energy. The senses, when you use them specifically, cause an even bigger drain of your system. Haven't you noticed how much you eat, man? Haven't you also noticed that even though I gripe about what you eat, I never say anything about the amount. When you're deep into a case, you're burning calories like a long distance runner, and if we don't get something into you, you run the risk of--"
"Swooning," Jim supplied, wondering what other tricks of the Guide trade Blair had up his sleeves. "Thanks, Chief. I guess this was my fault because I wouldn't let any of the guys come to be with me. But it was Christmas. I didn't want..."
"They understand. But it's no longer Christmas, so they'll all be here this afternoon. The St. Anne's crowd will drop by too. Georgia called early this morning." He watched Jim pull back the light blanket and sheet. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Now that I've been refueled," he indicated the glucose I.V., "I thought I'd go visit my son, especially if I'm going to be 'entertaining' all afternoon. You got a problem with that?"
"Yep, I do. Catching your falling ass wasn't big fun, Jim, and I really don't want to repeat the experience quite so soon. Besides, it'll be at least another hour before they'll let you in to see him. If I'd known you would be waking so soon, I wouldn't have used up the last visit."
"You've been running from his side to mine all night? Hope you've been refueling, Chief."
"Have granola bar, will travel," Blair said, holding up the snack item. "Besides, just getting prepared for what the rest of my life is going to be. Hopping from one Sentinel to the other."
Jim grinned. "Then you know?"
"I wasn't sure, until now," he said, mirroring the grin. "How do you know?"
"A feeling. Not territorial, but still I can sense another Sentinel. I guess I should have known from Alex's vision." The grin faded.
"Alex had a vision?"
He nodded, and told Blair about the scene in the temple. "David's spirit guide is just like mine."
"So she, you both, knew before...."
"Yeah, we did. I wanted her to fight, but she didn't want to, and I saw the wisdom of her decision."
"You want to talk about it?"
"What's to talk about?"
Don't get all defensive on me, buddy. "Your wife died, man."
"Everyone knows why she was my wife. Why should I feign grief?" Jim asked nonchalantly.
"Because you wouldn't be faking it." Jim turned his head away. "We talked about this, Jim. It doesn't hurt me that you're sad she's dead. I'm sad she's dead, and I wasn't linked to her like you were, man."
"You're sad?"
"Yeah, for you, and for Davy. She was a big part of both of your lives. There has to be an empty space inside you, Jim."
Jim wasn't aware of the single tear that rolled down his face. "I told her I loved her. I'm not sure if anyone ever told her that, and really meant it."
"You did."
"Maybe it we'd met earlier.... She deserved better than she had, Chief. I am determined David will have a better life than either of his parents. Whatever I have to do, I will," he vowed fiercely.
"You've already done it," Blair said quietly. "He's going to grow up knowing he's loved, knowing he's special. With that, he'll own the world."
"You think?"
"I know, big guy." Maybe it had been too late for Alex, but it hadn't been too late for us, Jim. Not for us. "So, there was a wolf at the temple, huh?"
"Yep," Jim replied, smiling.
"Guess that means you think I'm going to take care of the two of you?"
"Are you?" his partner asked shyly.
"Never let it be said that Blair Sandburg argued with the spirit world. So, yeah, I got your back, Jim. Yours and Davy's."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Epilogue: December, one year later
"You made out large, didn't you, little guy?" Blair said softly to the sleeping child drooling against his shoulder. He wasn't afraid of waking David; the sound of his uncle's and father's voices merely made him rest more securely. Blair figured it was a Sentinel thing, which David was, and was quickly adapting to. When he wanted his "Uhbee", baby for Uncle Blair, he called out loudly for him. When he wanted his "Da", he softly chanted the name until Jim responded. Such a smart baby. "Christmas and a birthday. Good thing you got a huge daddy, isn't it? He makes such a nice packhorse. He's going to bring all your goodies inside, so that when you wake up tomorrow, you can drive him nuts. Won't that be fun?" He unlocked the door, and walked into the house, sighing at the inviting warmth.
He loved their house, even though he had to get up an extra half hour earlier to drive into the city. He still remembered that day six months ago when Jim had suggested a drive to settle a cranky baby. As a Sentinel, David reacted twice as readily to the soothing action of a moving car. So he'd fallen asleep in his carrier in the backseat of the Explorer, and Blair had dozed in the front.
"Wake up, Chief," Jim had called as the car stopped. "Can't take either of you anywhere," he'd griped good-naturedly.
"I'm definitely making sure Davy knows that a person can have five extraordinary senses, yet lack a sense of humor at the same time," Blair had replied with a yawn. He looked around at the modern wooden structure in front of them. "Where are we? Somebody's mountain retreat or something?"
"Or something," Jim had murmured. He'd unstrapped the baby, who was now also awake, but too curious to fret. Like Jim, the little Sentinel felt comfortable when surrounded by nature, and he cooed at the birds overhead as they entered the house.
"This is a cool place," Blair said, taking in the large circular area that he guessed was the living room. It had a cathedral ceiling, a fireplace, and off to one side was a glassed-in sunroom with a spectacular view of the mountains. A quick search behind the doors that ringed the other side of the living room revealed three bedrooms, complete with baths. A short corridor led to a kitchen and another bedroom and bath. "Is this something Steven is thinking about investing in?" he asked as he climbed the staircase near the entrance. Jim's brother was known to speculate in real estate from time to time.
From upstairs, he could look down into the living room, and although he didn't like heights, for some reason, this didn't bother him. More exploring had revealed two equally-sized rooms on this floor, both with lots of windows. "Man, this would make killer offices. Is this what Steven wants to do with this place? Rent it as a business?"
"This is a house, Sandburg. You know, a place where people are going to live? Of course, if you want one of these rooms as your office, that's your prerogative."
"My preroga..." His voice had drifted off as he realized what his partner was implying. "Jim, man, what are you saying?"
He boosted the baby in one arm, and threw the other across Blair's shoulders. "Chief, David.... Welcome home, guys."
"Sandburg, if you don't move, I'm going to drop all this stuff...on you," Jim said, as Blair continued to block the door. They had made the rounds after having Christmas dinner with Simon and the other Major Crimes detectives who couldn't make it home for Christmas, like Megan. In addition to what David had picked up from his honorary aunts and uncles of the C.P.D., Uncle Steven and his daughter had increased the haul, as well as Granddad William and Grandma Sally-- Jim figured the housekeeper had more than earned the title.
Blair came back to the present and nimbly stepped out of the way. "Just put it under the tree," the twelve-foot monster occupying the center of the living room, "and we'll sort it out tomorrow. Maybe some of it we'll keep wrapped and let him open during other parts of the year."
"Good idea. He's not old enough for some of it yet, and it really is too much for one kid to handle in a big swoop."
"Yeah, like a twenty-five thousand dollar trust fund."
Jim shrugged. "Dad's standard first birthday gift. The others will be in more acceptable amounts."
Blair stared at him as a thought rocketed through him. "Jim, you weren't by any chance a trust fund baby yourself, were you?"
"That's a rather derogatory term for the people who make your pay possible, isn't it, Dr. Sandburg?" Blair had finally gotten his doctorate and was not only a professor at Rainier, but also an official consultant for the police department.
"Just answer the question, detective." But he didn't have to. Jim's hesitation said it all. Why hadn't he realized it before? There were two kinds of trust fund babies-- spending as much time as he had at the university had made him an expert on the breed. There was the nouveau riche crowd who thought the world owed them all that they had, and more. Then there were the old money ones, who believed in the noblesse oblige rule-- those who had, had an obligation to those who didn't. Jim typified that behavior, giving of himself and his talents whenever he could. "Man, I should have known. Did the money for this place come from it? You didn't sink your entire nest egg into this house, did you?" He'd thought Jim had gone to his brother or father for the money. He hadn't asked, figuring it might damage Jim's pride if he had to admit asking his family for help. But now he was going to have to rethink his assumptions.
"Let's get the munchkin settled in for the night, then we'll discuss my finances, okay?"
"We can do that." Blair led the way to the middle bedroom, placing David in his crib while Jim got out his Pooh sleeper. Deftly the Sentinel stripped his son, then dressed him for the night. When he was tucked in, kissed by both his loyal slaves, the child positioned himself beneath the covers and slipped into happy dreamland.
"I'm going to stoke the fireplace," Jim said as they left David's room.
Blair grinned. "You know, it seemed strange to come in and not see a fire blazing. The McPhersons have spoiled us." Martha McPherson had raised three semi-perfect kids. Lee "Mac" McPherson had been a cop, who caught a bullet in his shoulder which had caused enough damage that he couldn't pass the required physical. Jim had hired them both. Mac had protested, saying Jim just pitied him, but Jim had showed him the size of the grounds, and the closet gardener had reconsidered the offer. Then Jim had admitted he also wanted security for his son. Too often his cases followed him home. He didn't want a Lash grabbing David as he had Blair. That, more than anything else, had the McPhersons moving into the rooms off the kitchen. Now the couple considered all three of them their responsibility, and had been known to coddle the two men as much as David. In fact, they had had to threaten the couple into taking the vacation their offspring had arranged for them over the holidays.
Jim got the fire started then joined his friend, who sat in a gray, plush recliner before the fireplace. Beside the recliner was a table covered in huge, dusty-looking books and papers. Next to the table was a tiny child-sized recliner, which also had a table which held an assortment of toys, and much thinner books. Next to that table was a huge black leather recliner, in which the detective now settled. His table sported a neat stack of paperbacks, magazines, and a folder he would take back to the office tomorrow. "This is definitely the life, Chief."
"Yeah, and you were just about to tell me how we're affording this life." He continued to pay the same rent he'd paid at the loft. When he had offered to increase it, he'd found the overpayment on his dresser the next morning.
Jim rolled his eyes. Blair could be like a dog with a bone sometimes, but it didn't bother him. His partner was privy to ninety-some percent of his life. Another one percent wouldn't matter. "Yes, I had a trust fund, Chief. When I reached twenty-one, I had the choice of receiving a stipend from the interest, or getting it in one lump sum. I didn't want it, didn't want anything from my dad, so I asked for the whole thing. I had planned on giving it away, but I went to a bar to celebrate my "adulthood", and I happened to sit beside some guy who was trying to tie one on, but failing miserably. I guess I had a sympathetic face-- hadn't perfected my 'stay the hell away from me' look yet-- so he talked to me. Seemed he worked for an investment firm and had misappropriated a large sum of money. Guess embezzled was even a more accurate term, and the company was going to be audited the following week. He didn't seem like your typical thief, although back in those days I wouldn't have recognized a thief even if I'd seen him pickpocket someone."
"My, how you've grown," Blair murmured with a grin.
"Yeah, right. Anyway, he finally admitted he'd taken the money to pay for an operation for his son." Blair rolled his eyes and groaned. "I know. How naive could a guy be, right? But, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker. The son had a facial defect which could be corrected, but insurance wouldn't pay for it because it was strictly cosmetic. Back in those days, they didn't care one way or the other about how such a deformity would affect your psyche."
"You know, there have been studies done on how self-perception affects the whole body. I could show you..." Blair suddenly realized he was going off on a tangent, and Jim was doing nothing to stop him. Not that easy, big guy. "But first, finish your story. You were being this big, marshmallowy sucker and..."
Jim glared at him for a second, then continued. "And I gave him the money. Signed over the whole check, which was way more than he needed. But I figured, what the hell? Just the look on my dad's face when I told him I'd given the money away to a man on the next barstool over, seemed like a fair trade to me. The man started crying, and you know me, that was definitely my cue to move on. But he grabbed my arm, and said he would accept the loan for the money he'd taken, but not the rest of the amount. I told him he worked for an investment company, so invest it. He made me sign the back of a napkin, giving him permission to handle my money. Then I left, and I never much thought about the whole incident. A year or so later, I got a statement from Dad's bank. Using the account number on the original check, this guy had returned the entire amount to me. By this time, I was in the Army, and money didn't really interest me, so I ignored the whole thing. The letters kept coming, and I kept tossing them."
"Until?" Blair prompted, getting into the story. Actually, he got into any story about Jim's past. The man was rather stingy with that part of his life.
"Until I found out about David and figured I was going to need a loan. Since I wanted to avoid mortgaging the loft, I decided to see what I could get from this old account. Surely, I thought, I could borrow against the interest, or even the principle. Should have known something was up when the bank president came and escorted me to his office. I almost zoned on the length of the number he showed me, Chief. Seems this guy had truly invested my money, and was still investing it. The president gave me a belated apology. Said he'd always talked about how good a businessman Bill Ellison was, and that one of his sons had followed in his footsteps, but the other was a disappointment."
Blair gasped. "He told you that? To your face?"
"Yeah, but then he told me he had only been partially right; Bill and Steven were good businessmen because they made money. But I was a great businessman, because I had others making money for me. And that's how, Chief, I could afford to build this house, and no, I haven't used up all my nest egg."
"You are one incredibly lucky son of a bitch, Jim Ellison."
"I've known that for quite some time, Chief," he mused. How else would Blair Sandburg have stumbled into his world, just when he needed him? How else would the man still be in his life, being his best friend, his partner during the good times and the bad? Luck, pure unadulterated luck.
Blair ran the story through his head as they both stared at the flames dancing among the logs, filling in the blanks Jim always left in his narratives. "Jim, just tell me one thing: am I living with a millionaire?"
Jim just shrugged. "With you and David, a man couldn't be richer, Chief."
That's a yes. "Uh, I don't know if you heard, but Guide fees increased at the last quarterly meeting."
"Really? Guess I missed that convention. Tell you what. Just send me the bill, Chief. Whatever the increase is, I'll gladly pay," Jim said warmly.
Blair pulled the lever and sighed as he leaned back in the chair. This man had given him a home, a family, a career, a purpose.... There was nothing else he wanted or needed. "No can do, big guy. That bill is already paid in full."
"You sure about that, Chief?"
"They say that Christmas is the season for miracles, and Davy is proof of that, born on Christmas Day and all. But he's only one of the miracles I've been blessed with in my life, Jim. So, yeah, I've been paid in full, and owe someone some change."
Jim smiled. "Maybe you should put the excess in your piggy bank for a rainy day, Chief."
Blair nodded solemnly. "I think I'll do just that, Jim. Start my own trust fund, so to speak."
"Just be careful who you give it to."
"Don't worry about it, big guy. I'm already getting interest from it, and I haven't even invested it yet."
"You're another one of those great businessmen, huh, Chief?"
"Learned the art from a master, Jim."
THE END