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In the Zone

by Wildeskind


Title: In the Zone
Author/pseudonym: Wildeskind
E-mail address: wildeskind@surfree.com
Rating: G
Status: New, Complete
Parts: 1
Date: July 21, 1999
Archive: YES
Series/Sequel: none
Website: www.angelfire.com/md/wildchild/fanfic.html


Warnings: Slight mention of Sen Too Part 2. Set right after And It Rained.
Conventions: I use / / to mean when someone is thinking.
Disclaimer: I don't own the guys, I just torture them every once in a while.
Summary:The guys take a trip to the Twilight Zone.
Beta Credit: Thank you Jaycer, Kim, Colleen, Shelley, and Heather for your wonderful help.


 

Blair Sandburg woke up to a curious shushing noise, like the static from a radio. All around him was darkness, a total absence of light. Cautiously, he stretched his arms out. He tried to sit up, only to find that he was already sitting up. Or rather, that he couldn't sit up. Gravity seemed to be suspended. It was like he existed in nothingness. Twisting his body, he groped around for something, anything that would give him a point of reference in this strange blackness.

He almost screamed when his hand brushed something solid and warm. Twisting back, he grabbed it and pulled in the dead weight. Running his hands slowly over the object he identified it as a male body, unconscious, but thankfully alive. A sense of dread crept over him and he worked his way to the man's face. His sensitive fingers identified the man as being his partner, Jim Ellison. Blair hugged him close and whispered into Jim's ear.

"Psssst. Jim, are you okay?"

His only answer was the faint brush of Jim's breath on his cheek. Blair found Jim's wrist and felt for his pulse. It was slow but steady. Letting go of his wrist, Blair hugged the Sentinel closer to him.

/Man, either Jim has been sneaking more of those WonderBurgers or he's been slacking off on his sit-ups in the morning. I'll have to get on his case if we ever get out of here. When we get out of here./ Blair shook his head. This darkness and weightlessness was driving him crazy. No wonder Jim had zoned out. Blair couldn't feel any blood or injuries so Jim being zoned out was the only other option.

"Okay Jim. I know you can hear me, you're just zoned out because you can't see anything and there's this white noise and all. I want you to concentrate on my voice. Listen to my voice. Follow my voice back to me. You can do it man. Just listen to my voice." Blair continued whispering in his low steady voice, urging Jim back to him. Minutes passed with no reaction. Blair began to rub Jim's back.

"Come on man, you can do it." Suddenly, Jim moaned and his body shuddered as the Sentinel became aware of his circumstances.

"Blair, where are we?" Blair almost laughed in relief. Somehow that familiar phrase was comforting.

"Jim, thank god. You had me scared. How are you feeling?" Blair loosened his grip.

"Like I'm in the Twilight Zone. Where are we?" Blair could feel his partner's hands running lightly over his face. /Well, at least I'm not the only one here who is blind./

"I think we ARE in the Twilight Zone. I woke up and I was alone. I couldn't hear anything or see anything. There isn't even any gravity here." Blair felt Jim turn around and give him a quick hug. Blair sighed. Now that Jim was awake they could start figuring out where they were and how to get home.

"Jim, I am SO glad you're here. Can you hear anything?" Blair held his breath. It was eerie. It was totally black and yet he could almost see Jim cock his head to one side, listening.

"No, nothing but this damn white noise. What's the last thing you remember?" Blair searched his memory. Where had they been before they arrived here?

"Well, we were standing in the rain, and Simon was in his car. You heard him park outside the building. When he didn't come in we went out there to bring him in, He was just sitting there, staring at the windshield."

Simon had looked so lost, nothing like the Simon Blair knew, always larger than life, always sure of what had to be done. He had seen Simon angry, frustrated, irritated, amused and afraid, but he had never seen him so, melancholy. This Simon had been like a lost soul, bound with invisible chains of hopelessness that bound his spirit. Simon had been so far gone that he actually reached for his gun when Jim knocked on the window. /Those must have been some heavy thoughts. And then I had to go make some lame joke./

"Then you made some lame joke about easier ways to catch pneumonia. We invited him up to the loft. I don't remember anything after that." Blair glared at Jim before he remembered that Jim couldn't see him.

/Thanks Jim,/ Blair thought, /I do remember that. Damn./ I wish I could have taken those words back. I wanted to erase that look I saw on Simon's face, the emptiness. And then Jim said exactly the RIGHT thing. I'm supposed to be the one with the gift for gab. Sometimes I forget that Jim has that sensitive human side that he only lets out once in a great while. Puppy dogs and babies bring it out in him. And sometimes, when they need it, his friends. /But Simon is my friend too. I should have been able to say the right thing. Why couldn't I say the right thing?/ Blair sighed. Maybe it was time to get back to the problem at hand. Blair jumped as Jim's hand came down on his head.

"Your hair's still damp. What are you wearing?" Blair wiggled his toes and ran his hand down his arm.

"My coat, a T-shirt, my favorite blue jeans and my hiking boots. Exactly what I was wearing when we went outside. It felt like you had your car coat on. It was still damp when I found you. We know where we were. Do you have any ideas on where we are?"

"I think we're nowhere. But maybe we will be getting somewhere soon."

"Nowhere, somewhere? Jim, did you get hit in the head? You're not making any sense." Blair tried to stare at his partner's face, but all he saw was this damn blackness. Was this what blind people saw? Were they both blind? Maybe they were in a coma together.

"It's coming back to me. You know when you're walking along and suddenly you're somewhere that you weren't before? Or when we are chasing the bad guys and you get hurt and you end up in the hospital. We have this emotional scene and it ends, and then suddenly we're somewhere else, chasing the bad guys again?"

"What are you saying Jim? You think that we're in the hospital again and this is some sort of coma induced dream?" That would make sense. Maybe when Jim brought him back to life at the fountain, he connected their souls, and now they both were together in a coma. /We can't be dead. I don't remember too much about being dead, but I'm SURE death isn't like this!/

"We're in Limbo, Chief. The place fictional characters go when they are not in a story. We're usually unaware, but for some reason this time we know where we are. "

"Limbo, fictional characters? Jim what are you talking about? Limbo is for children who have died and haven't reached the age of deciding between good and evil. We aren't children, we aren't dead and I don't think we are fictional characters." Blair shivered as he thought back over his life. He knew who he was. Some of the details were a little fuzzy, but time did that to you. The last four years were sharp though, like a camera lens that had come into focus. /I can't be a fictional character. I know who I am. Nobody wrote me!/

"Stick with me for a second. Just for the sake of argument, let's say that we ARE fictional characters. And maybe, for some reason, I can sense the discrepancies in my life. Maybe too many writers see me differently so I feel fractured, unpolished. Maybe it has something to do with being a main character. Hero types often have a strong intuition." Hero types. Yeah, Jim was a hero, a stereotypical hero. Strong on the outside with an inner tenderness that he didn't let out too often. A loner who had dedicated himself to the protection of others. Blair felt the rightness of what his partner said.

/So what does that make me?/ Blair asked himself. /I guess I would be the sidekick. The one that always gets in a jam, or who gets to ask the really obvious questions, just so the audience gets what's going on. Hey, I do that, don't I? Oh no, I am a fictional character!/

"So why are we aware, Jim? Why are we here?"

"Probably because some writer is thinking of us so hard, that we've become real. But because they haven't formed a story, we haven't returned to the real world."

"This is crazy Jim. What are we going to do? We can't go back until a writer sends us back. And I don't want to stay here indefinitely. This place is weird." Blair heard the hysteria creeping into his voice. He clamped down on it, shoving it away into a corner. / Jim doesn't need a hysterical partner, Sandburg, he needs someone who can think clearly. Just because someone has been doing your thinking before, doesn't mean that you can't do it now. You have experience in crisis situations. You can handle this./ Jim's voice rumbled under his ear.

"Maybe if we think really hard, we can bring one of the other characters here." Blair heard the doubt in his partner's voice. How could two fictional characters do anything that a writer hadn't written them to do? But then again, there wasn't a writer was writing them now. If there were someone writing them, then they wouldn't be in Limbo.

"So, who should we try first, Jim?"

"Well, let's try Simon. He was with us the last time we were in a story. He's also one of the major characters."

Simon! Blair couldn't see how he could help. But it was worth a try. Blair closed his eyes and thought really hard about Simon. He imagined that he could see the familiar dark face with its broad features and sparkling brown eyes. He could almost smell the cigar smoke and hear that deep bass voice yelling what is going on here? Blair blinked, he WAS hearing Simon's voice. "What's going on here? Who's there?" A larger hand smacked into Blair's face, catching on his long curls. Blair howled as the hand wrapped itself securely in the soft tresses and yanked.

"Easy Simon, that's my hair you're pulling!" Blair grabbed the older man's hand.

"Blair? Where am I? And why can't I see? Is that Jim?" Blair heard the bewilderment in Simon's voice as his hand loosened its grip on Blair's hair. /He must have found Jim's arm or something,/ Blair thought. Blair gently disengaged Simon's hand from his hair and held it with his left hand. Turning towards Jim, he grabbed Jim's free hand so that the three formed a circle, facing each other.

"Don't sweat it Simon, it's dark here, that's why you can't see." Blair winced as Simon squeezed his hand. Man, did he have a grip. Of course, that is his gun hand. Blair felt Simon's grip relax as Jim spoke.

"I don't know how to tell you Simon, so I'll just say it. We're in Limbo."

"Limbo? Is this some weird Sentinel thing? If so, why am I here? Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Blair heard the panic in Simon's voice. Simon's patience with the supernatural had always been thin at best. How was he going to react when Jim told him that they were fictional characters?

"Yeah, this is a Sentinel thing Simon. Don't you remember Blair asking you to join us in the .. uh .. meditation exercise?" Jim's hand squeezed Blair's warningly.

/I know, I know, Jim,/ Blair thought, /I can tell BS when I hear it. The only question is, why are you BSing Simon? Why bring him here if you didn't want him to know he wasn't real?/

"Meditation exercise?" Simon squeaked. Blair had never heard the captain so off balance. "I don't remember any meditation exercise!" Blair could feel the sweat on Jim's hand.

/I don't know where this is going, but Jim seems to be running out of steam. I guess I had better help him out./ Blair spoke in his most soothing voice, building a visual image for Simon to grab a hold of.

"Sure you do Simon. Don't you remember? We were sitting on the couch, watching a Jags game. They were winning 93 to 81. You had a cool beer in your hand and you had just finished off some of my famous ostrich chili. Don't you remember telling us how your job was getting to you? I suggested we try a meditation exercise to rid you of some of that stress. We finished watching the game and then Jim turned down the lights. You remember that, don't you? I had you take off your shoes and sit back. I lit some candles and taught you how to breathe. You remember the breathing exercises? Deep breathes. In through your nose, out of mouth. Come on Simon breath with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth."

Blair took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He could hear Simon do the same. In and out. In and out. He could hear Jim breathing with them. Slowly the white noise began to fade. Blair could feel his body become heavy, the floor becoming solid beneath him. He opened his eyes. Candle light flickered as a draft from the balcony windows blew through the room. He was sitting on the rug in front of the TV. Simon was in front of him, his long legs stretched out under the table. Jim was on the loveseat, his hands resting on his knees, breathing in and out.

Blair blinked. Was he dreaming? Had that whole scene in Limbo been a dream? He looked over to Jim. Jim stared back at and shook his head slightly. No, it hadn't been a dream. So how had they gotten back?

Of course, that's what Jim was trying to do! Blair had to restrain himself from jumping up and hugging Jim. If they were fictional characters then they had to have someone who believed in them and who they were. If having a writer think of them made them aware, then having someone believe in them would bring them back into the real world. So when Simon had believed that they were back in the loft, doing a meditation exercise, that's where they ended up. As long as Simon believed they were real, they were okay. Blair sighed in relief. There was no way that Simon would ever believe that they were just fictional characters existing in someone's mind.

The End

Comments, Criticisms??? Email me at wildeskind@surfree.com. I can take them!!


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