Walls

Author’s Note: This story is a post TSbyBS tale. It’s not really a sequel, per se, to “Us Again”, but it is a continuation of some of the themes brought up in that story. They both stand alone and it is not necessary to read “Us Again” to follow this one, but if you would like to you can find it here. Episodic spoilers may be found below. And the verses scattered throughout are from Tom Petty’s song “Walls”. As always, I mean no copyright infringement on characters owned by PetFly/Paramount and I’m not profiting in any way from this story, although I probably owe Blair an apology for doing this to him. Comments are always welcome!

The sentinel rapped his knuckles against his captain’s door, waiting for the answering grunt before he let himself in and took a seat in front of his boss’s desk.

“Hey, Jim,” Banks greeted him, pointing to his coffee machine. At Ellison’s nod, he rose and poured him a cup. “How’d it go in court?”

“No problems,” the detective replied, taking a sip of the exotically fragrant brew he was handed. “The judge admitted all the evidence, which bodes well for trial. I think it’s a safe bet we’ll get a conviction out of this one.”

“Good,” Simon murmured, taking a drink from his own mug. “I for one will sleep better with that scum off the streets.”

Ellison agreed, casting a thought to the murderous drug dealer he’d managed to take down a few weeks prior. The man was cruel and heartless, as evil as they came, and the citizens of Cascade would definitely be a lot safer with him tucked away behind bars.

“Hey, guys.” Brown stuck his head in through the door on his way by. “Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to invite you fine gentlemen, and your wallets, to a friendly game of poker tonight.”

“Much as I’d love to come and relieve you of all your hard earned cash, I’ll have to take a rain check,” Banks told him. “Darryl’s debuting in the school play tonight and I promised him I’d come see it.”

“What is Darryl doing in the school play?” H grinned.

“What else?” the captain shrugged. “He’s trying to impress some girl. But I think he surprised himself and actually turned out to be pretty good.”

“Tell him to break a leg. What about you, Jim?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Ellison answered. “I’m in.”

“My place, seven o’clock,” Brown supplied. “And bring Hairboy with you.”

“I’ll tell him.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed slightly as H left, closing the door behind him. True, the captain spent much of his time behind the desk in his office, pushing papers, making phone calls, and supervising his men while trying to keep the bigwigs happy. But he was still a very good detective, and he was sure he’d seen something fleeting pass over the face of his best officer.

“You know,” he began, trying to sound casual as he sat down on the corner of his desk. “I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Sandburg flying around here. It’s just too damned quiet without him. How’s he been doing?”

“I don’t know, Simon,” Ellison sighed, loosening the tie that was knotted at his throat. He was uncomfortable discussing the matter, but he felt the need to voice his concerns to someone. “I think he’s depressed.”

“Well he just lost everything he’s spent half his life working for,” Banks reminded him. “I’d be surprised if he wasn’t a little depressed.”

“This goes beyond a ‘little’,” Jim insisted. “It’s like he doesn’t have any interest in anything he used to love. He sleeps all the time and he hardly eats. I can barely get him to leave the loft. And he won’t talk to me about any of it, just keeps parroting that he’s ‘fine’. I don’t know what to do with him.”

“There’s nothing you can do. He’s in a funk right now, and he just needs a little time to pull himself out of it,” Simon reasoned, giving his detective a hard look as he read his mind. “Look, Jim, don’t go beating yourself up over what Sandburg did. He made the decision to retract his dissertation on his own. Really, he didn’t have a choice.”

“No, he didn’t,” the sentinel whispered, almost to himself, feeling an abject ache of guilt deep in his heart.

“The kid’s resilient,” the captain said firmly. “Whatever he’s going through now, he’ll bounce back from it. Sandburg always lands on his feet. Once he starts at the academy and has something to occupy his time, he’ll come around.”

Ellison wasn’t convinced but he agreed anyway, ready to end the conversation. In the back of his mind he’d been wondering if that could be part of the reason his friend had been so quiet lately. They had sprung the whole academy thing on the unsuspecting young man without really giving him a say in the matter. And Jim couldn’t help wondering if maybe Blair had decided being a cop wasn’t for him, but just didn’t know how to tell his soon to be official partner.

Jim unlocked the door and let himself into the loft to find his roommate sprawled across the sofa watching t.v.

“Jerry Springer?” he commented, quirking an eyebrow as he moved into the room. “Wasn’t it you that once said this show heralded the decline of western civilization?”

“Yeah, but there is something strangely fascinating about it,” Blair murmured, picking up the remote and turning the volume down slightly. “From an anthropological standpoint, I mean.” He was quiet for a minute, then looked up to see his friend’s intense eyes boring into him. Realizing how bereft he had sounded at the mention of his lost career, Sandburg quickly tried to joke to lighten the mood. “And besides, after watching these people my own life suddenly doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Yeah,” Ellison snorted, moving into the kitchen to get a drink. “Sleeping until noon, hanging around the house all day, watching the soaps... You have it rough, Chief.”

When the expected playful retort did not come, the sentinel glanced back out into the living room to see his friend sitting up with his head bowed in shame. Silently, he cursed himself and his habit of speaking without thinking. Jim had only been teasing, but he should have known better. Even if Blair wouldn’t articulate it, Ellison knew him well enough to know how hard his current situation had to be on him. It was eating Sandburg up inside to be left with no job, no income, no responsibilities, no contributions... no purpose. And it may have been temporary, but it was still hard to bear and he certainly didn’t need to have it thrown back in his face.

“H invited us over for poker tonight,” Jim announced, trying to make amends the only way he knew how. “Why don’t we head over early and we can stop and get some dinner on the way, my treat. I’ll even let you pick the place. What do you say?”

“I appreciate that, Jim,” Blair said quietly. “But I don’t really feel like it tonight. You go ahead.”

“Come on,” Ellison wheedled, placing his palms on the kitchen island and leaning over it to grill his friend, still seated on the sofa. “What else do you have to do tonight?”

“You know I can’t afford to throw money away on cards,” Sandburg replied.

“Nobody’s going to make you ante up,” the sentinel reassured him. “The guys just want to see you. Come on, Simon’s bailing and Joel’s on duty tonight. We need you to be our fourth.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather stay here,” Blair told him, clicking off the t.v. and getting to his feet. “Maybe Megan would want in,” he suggested as he headed for his room.

“This moping routine is getting old, Chief,” Jim called after him.

Sandburg flinched slightly at the words, then turned around to face his roommate.

“Tell everyone ‘hello’ from me,” he requested, his blue eyes dark with hurt and sadness. Then he ducked into his room and shut the doors behind him.

Ellison sighed, running a hand over his short hair and wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He never meant to be thoughtless or unsympathetic or downright mean, but for some reason that’s the way things always seemed to come out. Especially when he felt emotionally burdened. Ironically, he realized that he was worried about his friend and that he was taking it out on Blair instead of trying to help him. He pondered knocking on the French doors and apologizing, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words. ‘Sorry you had to ruin your entire life to protect me’ just seemed to be inadequate. So Jim headed upstairs instead to change, trying and failing to convince himself that Simon had been right and everything would be fine once Sandburg started at the academy.

The sentinel picked up the scent of chamomile as he got off the elevator and it was not a vast strain on his detective skills to guess where it was coming from. But as he let himself into the loft, he realized there was a slight herbal undercurrent that reminded him of maple, a smell with which he was becoming increasingly familiar.

“Don’t tell me you’re sick again,” he groused, hanging up his jacket and glancing into the kitchen where Sandburg was stirring a spoonful of slippery elm powder into his tea. Blair didn’t answer, just sniffed slightly as he took a sip of the steaming beverage. “You know, maybe you ought to see a doctor.”

“It’s just a cold, Jim.”

“Yeah, but you just got over the last one.”

“‘Tis the season,” Blair murmured, moving into the living room to curl up into the chair facing the fire.

“I still think you ought to get checked out,” Ellison argued. “Maybe you need a shot of antibiotics or something.”

“Antibiotics don’t do anything against the common cold, Jim,” Blair reminded him. “It’s just this type of thing that causes a worldwide increase....”

“In resistence of drugs to disease stemming from overuse,” the sentinel filled in for him, having heard that particular lecture more than once. “Look, all I’m saying is that maybe there’s something underlying here that a doctor can help with. I mean, you’re due at the academy next month. You don’t want to start there run down, Chief, trust me.”

“I appreciate the concern, Jim, but I’ll be fine,” Sandburg told him, his tone clearly indicating he wanted his roommate to drop it.

Ellison sighed to himself and went into the kitchen, opening the cabinets to investigate dinner options that would appeal to his friend more than to himself. Pulling out a can of soup, he set it on the counter while he found a pot. He was rapidly moving past concern into downright worry over his friend’s state of mind. Jim was convinced that Blair was in a deep depression, one that might not be so easy to snap out of. He wasn’t taking care of himself, not even bothering with the tribal remedies he had always tried to force on his partner, and the sentinel was sure that the constant illness was a manifestation of that, along with his overall bleak outlook. Ellison had been hoping that if he could convince his roommate to see a doctor, the physician would pick up on the depression and recommend the appropriate treatment, be it therapy or medication. But that scenario wasn’t likely if Blair was too stubborn to agree. Grinning slightly to himself as he started heating the soup, Jim realized the battle wasn’t over for Sandburg hardly had the market cornered on stubbornness and he was sure he could wear him down eventually. After all, bitching at the kid was what he seemed to do best.

“Jim.” The sentinel looked up as his captain approached his desk. “My meeting with the mayor was canceled. You feel like getting some lunch?”

“Sure, Simon, if you can give me ten minutes.”

“I’ll give you fifteen,” Banks said generously as he glanced at his watch. “I need to run some forms over to anti-crime, so I’ll meet you downstairs.” He started for the door, then turned back. “Why don’t you give Sandburg a call and see if he wants to join us?”

Ellison nodded and went back to the report he was working on, quickly finishing it as his boss left the squad. He glanced over it once, then sent the document to print and shut down his computer. Picking up the phone, he dialed the loft but there was no answer. Blair had canceled his cell phone in an effort to eliminate as many bills as he could while he was temporarily unemployed, so Jim wrote him off as unreachable and grabbed his jacket and headed for the elevator.

“Is the kid coming?” Simon asked as they climbed into his car. As his captain status guaranteed him a reserved parking space in the garage, he was the logical choice to drive.

“I tried calling him but he’s not home,” the sentinel replied, strapping on his seat belt.

“The way you were talking the other day, you made him sound like some hopeless shut-in,” Banks commented, glancing behind him as he backed out of his spot.

“That’s not too far from the truth,” Ellison sighed. “He only went out this morning because he had a doctor appointment.”

“Doctor?” The captain shot him a look before he pulled out into the heavy noon traffic.

“I’ve been bugging him to go and get checked out,” Jim told him, running a hand over his forehead. “He’s really starting to worry me, Simon. This despondence... it’s just not like him.”

“And what does Sandburg say about it?” Banks asked, not in such a hurry to dismiss his friend’s concerns this time.

“Nothing,” the detective replied, frustration evident in his voice. “He and I barely even talk anymore. But he keeps insisting nothing’s wrong. The only reason he even agreed to see a doctor was because I reminded him he had to have a physical before he started at the academy.”

“I wish I had an answer for you, Jim, but I don’t,” Simon counseled him. “Whatever Sandburg’s going through, he has to get through it on his own. All you can do is just be there for him when he’s ready. But you can’t help him if he won’t let you.”

“I know,” Ellison muttered. But that did little to take away the blame and guilt that were eating him up inside, for he couldn’t help feeling responsible for the events that led his friend to commit career suicide. He sighed again, ready to change the subject. “So, how did it go the other night? Should I be looking for Darryl on Broadway next time I’m in New York?”

The captain laughed and proudly began describing his son’s acting debut, unaware that his detective wasn’t listening. Jim stared out the window, his thoughts drifting back to Blair. What if this was the one thing his resilient partner couldn’t bounce back from? It was suddenly hard to know. At one point they had been so close they just knew what the other was thinking and feeling. But it had been awhile since things had been that easy between them. Their relationship had become tight and strained after the chaos Alex Barnes had brought to their lives, and then before they’d had a chance to reconcile from that, they suffered another crushing blow thanks to Naomi’s intervention. As a result, a wall had sprung up between them, pushing them apart and keeping them remote. Their friendship was not in question, but they no longer shared that close connection, nor spoke of anything deep or personal but kept all conversation light and trivial. Jim had chosen to bury his head in the sand, pretending he didn’t notice the wall cutting him off from his friend and trying to convince himself that if they ignored it and carried on that it would eventually go away. To his initial relief, Blair went along with him, but the sentinel was suddenly not sure that was a good thing. Something was wrong with his guide, and Jim knew he couldn’t help him if he couldn’t even reach him.

“Hey, Chief,” Ellison greeted as the door opened and Sandburg entered. Blair still wasn’t home by the time he got off work, and the detective had really started to worry about his roommate. Breathing a sigh of relief to see him safe and sound, he tried to joke to cover up the anxiety he’d been feeling. “I was starting to think that the doctor had found you such a perfect specimen that he sold you to a secret government lab for testing.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Sandburg agreed, hanging up his coat. “But fortunately I managed to escape with my life.”

His tone was light, but the smile he gave the sentinel was a mere shadow of his former jubilant grin. Jim quickly grew serious.

“What did the doctor say, really?”

“Not much,” Blair replied, going into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. “You know how it is, they never tell you anything. He just did the physical and took some blood for a couple of tests.”

“What kind of tests?”

“The usual, I guess,” Sandburg shrugged. “Cholesterol, liver function... that kind of thing.”

“But he didn’t find any causes for concern?”

“No,” Blair told him, a trace of amusement crossing his face. “What’s with you, man?”

“Nothing,” Ellison answered, a bit sheepishly as he realized he’d been overdoing the interrogation. “I’m just trying to make sure my future partner is in top condition.”

“I’ll try and keep up with you, Jim,” the younger man said soberly.

“That’s never been a problem for you in the past, Chief,” the sentinel assured him warmly, letting his admiration for his friend’s energy, loyalty, dedication and determination shine through. But Blair didn’t seem to be comforted by the rare praise and just nodded slightly.

“Well, I’m tired,” he declared. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Jim.”

Ellison watched him disappear into his room, resisting the urge to ask his roommate where he’d been all day and wondering when the hell he’d turned into the kid’s mother.

At first, Jim had been disappointed that his scheme had failed and the doctor had not seemed to pick up on Sandburg’s depression like he’d planned. But that disappointment rapidly faded as Blair began to perk up a bit, spending less time lying listlessly in front of the tv and more time reading and working on his laptop. He went out for dinner one night with some friends from Rainier and eagerly accepted the Jags ticket that his roommate surprised him with the following evening. Ellison began daring to hope that Simon had been right and that Sandburg just needed some time to grieve for his lost career and he was now ready to embrace his new one. Jim decided things were definitely looking up the day he came home and heard music pulsing out in the hallway, even without using his sentinel abilities.

“Hey,” he called out, over the blare of the Seattle grunge scene.

“Hey, Jim,” Blair yelled back from the kitchen where he was chopping vegetables with great enthusiasm. “Hope you’re hungry.”

“What are we celebrating here?” Ellison asked, taking in the makings of an elaborate dinner.

“I’m just in a good mood,” Sandburg replied, gathering a handful of veggies and spinning around to drop them into the pot on the stove. “It hasn’t rained in six hours, the Jags are first in their division, and I’ve got a hot date tonight.” He ducked into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, uncorking it and splashing just a bit of the liquid into the pot. “Oh yeah, the doctor called today, too, with my test results.”

“And?”

“Everything’s fine, just like I told you,” Blair assured him.

“That’s great, Chief,” Jim grinned. He watched his roommate for a minute as he bebopped around the kitchen, glad that his fears seemed to have been unfounded. “Call me when the feast is ready, ok?” Ellison headed upstairs, wincing a bit as he passed the stereo. The music was painfully loud even with his hearing dialed back, but as it was the first time in weeks that Sandburg had even shown any interest in playing music, he decided not to ruin it by griping at him about the noise.

Blair watched his roommate disappear up to the loft and sagged against the counter when he was out of sight. He sighed heavily, pushing the hair back from his face. It took a lot of effort to lie to a sentinel.

Ellison bolted inside the loft, tossing his jacket on the back of the chair and emptying his pockets on the small table beside the door.

“Blair, are you ready?” he shouted in the vicinity of his friend’s room as he headed for the stairs. He’d gotten tied up at work and stuck in traffic, so consequently he was running late and was not in the mood to haggle over bathroom time with his roommate. But despite his rush, he stopped with one foot on the stairs as Sandburg emerged.

“Actually, Jim, I don’t think I’m going to go with you.”

“This thing starts in half an hour, Chief,” the sentinel groaned. “We don’t have time to hash this out again.”

“I just don’t feel right going to a Major Crimes Christmas party,” Blair protested. “I’m not part of the team anymore.”

“That was your decision to hand in your observer credentials,” Jim reminded him. “As far as everyone else is concerned, you never stopped being part of the team.”

“I had to do it,” Sandburg explained. “I’m a self-proclaimed fraud and a disgrace to the university. The media people are idiots, but they aren’t stupid. If I kept working with you after all that, they would have put two and two together. It was better for everyone if I just kept a low profile for awhile.”

“I remember the speech, Chief,” Ellison said sharply, feeling a familiar stab of guilty pain in his chest. Yet another sacrifice his friend made to protect him, though he didn’t deserve it. “Look, Blair, these people are your friends. They miss you, and they want to see you. And they’ll lynch me if I show up there without you. So can you please just cut me some slack on this one?”

“All right,” Blair sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get out of it.

The sentinel watched him head back to his room, a frown of concern wrinkling his brow. It wasn’t like his guide to pass up a party, especially one with people he’d grown close to over the past few years. The spark of life that he’d seen in Sandburg over the last week appeared to be gone, and the depression was back in his friend’s eyes. Which led him to believe that it wasn’t simply due to his tanked career. Something else was going on with Blair and Jim resolved to have a serious talk with him the first chance he got. He was going to force the issue and get to the bottom of this and he wasn’t going to let any wall between them stop him. But he didn’t have time to worry about it now with the clock ticking so he raced upstairs, biting back a curse when he heard the bathroom door slam and the shower start.

They arrived at the Cascade Country Club fashionably late, but they were greeted warmly and immediately plied with drinks and hors d’evours. Everyone was especially happy to see Sandburg, and the former observer was humbly touched at the unexpected attention. It didn’t take him long before he was trading jibes with the guys and flirting with all the women like he’d never been gone. The sentinel kept a close eye on him at first, but soon he relaxed and took the opportunity to mingle and socialize with his colleagues. The job was a stressful one, and things were often fast paced and tempers frequently ran high. So it was a nice thing to be able to get together, without the pressures of the job weighing on them, and just hang out for awhile in a neutral setting. Jim silently sent his compliments to the caterers as he ate his fill and took advantage of the open bar, but as he came back from getting his latest refill he noticed that his roommate was missing. He didn’t think much of it at first, but after fifteen minutes passed and there was still no sign of him he decided to track him down. Finally he spied a lone figure out on one of the balconies. He slid the door open, shivering against the sudden blast of cold wind as he stepped outside and joined his friend.

“Hey, Chief. What are you doing out here? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sandburg replied quietly, his gaze firmly fixed on the Cascade skyline. “I just needed some air.”

Ellison stepped forward to stand beside his friend, resting his hands on the railing as he looked out into the night and decided he needed to force the issue now. Maybe it wasn’t the ideal time or place, but his patience was gone and he wanted answers.

“You forget who you’re talking to?” he asked, picking up on Blair’s racing heartbeat. “I know you’re lying.”

There was a slight slump to the younger man’s shoulders, but no other reaction.

“Come on, Chief, spill it,” the detective commanded. “There’s no way I can help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

Blair turned to look at his friend, the darkness failing to hide the tears glistening in his eyes from the sentinel’s sight.

“You can’t help me,” he finally replied, looking away again. “I’m sick, Jim. Those tests that the doctor ran on me? They didn’t come back normal.” Sandburg took a deep breath, speaking in a rush to get the words out. “My blood counts were all off and there were some abnormal cells that he said looked like...”

“Cancer?” Ellison whispered, a chill running through him that had nothing to do with the cold night air.

“I’m supposed to schedule some tests to confirm it, but he seemed pretty sure.” Blair looked back at his friend, a waver in his voice. “I didn’t mean to lie to you, but I wanted to wait until after Christmas to tell people so that I didn’t ruin anyone’s holiday. But I’m scared, man. I don’t know what to do.”

Long moments passed as the younger man stood, heart hammering in his chest as he watched his friend stare out into the night, waiting for him to say something. Finally, the sentinel unclenched his jaw and turned to face him.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Jim told him firmly. “First of all, we’re going back inside because I’m freezing my ass off out here. Second, we’ll make the rounds, but we can bail out early if you want and go home and talk about this. And third, first thing Monday you’re going to call and schedule those tests. Then we’ll take the rest as it comes.”

Sandburg nodded, taking in several deep breaths as his friend gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before looping an arm around him.

“Come on, Chief,” the sentinel ordered gently, leading his partner back to the party. Blair followed him, suddenly feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. He was still scared, but he didn’t feel so alone anymore and he realized that he’d been wrong, for Ellison did still have the power to help him.

They stopped at the bar for drinks and then rejoined their friends. Blair picked up where he’d left off, carrying on with the detectives and the rest of the staff. But Jim was silent and subdued, watching him with an aching heart for it was painfully clear to him that his friend was putting on an act. A damn good one, but now that he knew the secret burden that Sandburg was carrying he could plainly see the terror behind his smile. Blair avoided his gaze, for he was afraid that his jovial facade would crumble if he looked at Ellison. So they lingered for awhile longer, and only then did Sandburg catch his partner’s eye. The sentinel understood and nodded slightly, and the two men began saying their farewells and edging their way to the door. Their intent to leave was met with protest, but they were adamant and managed to slip out with relative ease. The drive home was a silent one, with neither man speaking until they arrived back at the loft.

“Chief, listen,” Jim began as he hung up his coat. “I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you these last few weeks. And I’m sorry I dragged you down there tonight.”

“It’s all right, man,” Blair told him, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket, which he hadn’t removed. “You didn’t know, and you were just trying to help.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” the sentinel asked gently.

“No,” Sandburg sighed, finally sliding out of his coat and hanging it on the hook next to his roommate’s. “I might take you up on that later, but right now I’m just too...” He paused, then sighed again. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Chief,” Ellison called out, halting his friend’s retreat. “Promise me you’re going to call on Monday and schedule those tests.”

Blair turned to him, giving him a weary smile.

“I promise. Goodnight, Jim.”

“Night.” The sentinel turned and got a beer from the fridge, popping the top as he made his way into the living room and sunk down onto the sofa. “Please,” he whispered to no one in particular, closing his eyes against the fear welling up inside of him. “Please, let him be all right.”

“Mr. Sandburg?”

Blair looked up and nodded as the nurse entered the waiting room.

“Follow me, please.”

He took a deep breath and rose from his seat, tossing the magazine he’d been glancing through back on the coffee table. Jim had offered to come with him and Blair was suddenly wishing he hadn’t declined, for he was feeling very anxious and it would have been nice to have a little moral support. Taking another breath and reminding himself that he was thirty, not five, he followed the nurse down a long hallway and into an exam room. She handed him a gown but Sandburg was pleasantly surprised when she told him he could leave his jeans on, which cut back on the feelings of vulnerability considerably. Then she efficiently checked his weight, blood pressure and temperature, jotting down the results in his chart before gliding out of the room, promising that the doctor would be in shortly.

Dr. Stern was nothing like his name implied. Rather, he was a handsome man enjoying early middle age, with kind, compassionate eyes and a gentle touch. He smiled brightly as he introduced himself to Blair in a soft, warm voice and followed their handshake with a friendly pat on the shoulder. After quickly glancing over his chart, he nodded at the nurse who wheeled a small cart closer to the exam table.

“All right, Mr. Sandburg,” he began as he opened a hypodermic syringe and assembled the needle. “We’re going to do a bone marrow aspiration. It’s a quick procedure, and I’m going to give you a local anesthetic so you won’t feel any pain. All you have to do is lie back and try to relax and we’ll have you out of here in no time.”

Blair let the nurse position him so he was reclining back against the table, but it was impossible to relax. She opened his gown, exposing his chest and swabbing a small area with betadine. Then came the injection, which made him wince, but before long his chest was numb and the procedure was under way. Dr. Stern talked him through every step of it as he worked, and Blair watched with morbid fascination as a frighteningly long needle was inserted into his breast bone. He gasped sharply, feeling a quick pain as the syringe filled with liquid bone marrow, and then it was all over.

“I should have the results back in a few days,” the doctor told him. “We’ll give you a call when they’re in, and then we’ll know where to go from there.”

Sandburg thanked him as he exited the room, leaving the nurse pressing a gauze pad firmly against his chest. She explained it was necessary to keep pressure on the site for a few minutes to prevent bleeding and infection and went over care instructions with him. Then she put a bandage on him and left him to rest. After twenty minutes she returned and upon not finding any bleeding, declared him good to go. Blair hopped off the table, slipping out of the gown and getting dressed, realizing it was done. The test was over, which just left the endless waiting for the verdict.

Jim had spent the afternoon debating whether or not he should call his roommate and check on him. He went back and forth with himself, finally deciding that it would be too ‘mother hen-ish’. After all, Blair was just having a simple procedure done. But when his shift ended, he decided that the test was invasive enough to warrant him skipping his evening workout, so instead of stopping by the gym he headed home, making one quick stop on the way.

“Hey,” he greeted, entering the loft and finding Sandburg curled up on the couch. “How did it go?”

“Ok,” Blair replied, sitting up slightly. The sentinel just stared at him expectantly, obviously wanting a little more elaboration. “You know, they just did the test. It was over pretty quick and they said they’d call when they got the results.”

“Are you all right?” Ellison asked him, thinking his friend was looking a little wan.

“Yeah,” Sandburg told him, rubbing a hand unconsciously over his chest. “I was numb during the procedure and didn’t feel much. But it’s hurting a little now.”

“Do you want me to get you some aspirin?”

“I just took some a little while ago.”

“Then how about some dinner?” Jim asked, delving into the bag he had set on the counter. “I stopped at Luvoy’s on the way home and picked up your favorite.”

“I appreciate that, Jim, but I’m not really hungry right now,” Sandburg murmured.

“You haven’t been hungry for the last month,” Ellison reminded him sharply as he dumped the contents of the take-out containers onto a plate. Adding utensils and grabbing a paper towel as a napkin, he went into the living room and thrust it into his friend’s hands. “Just eat something, would you?”

He sounded irritated, but Blair could see the concern radiating from his roommate’s eyes. So he pulled himself up until he was sitting upright and began to partake of his friend’s thoughtfulness, eventually cleaning his plate under the sentinel’s watchful eye. After Jim had polished off his own meal, he quickly cleaned up the kitchen, then returned to the living room and sat down across from his friend.

“Have you tried calling Naomi?”

“No,” Sandburg answered, shaking his head slightly. “I thought about it, but I don’t see the point in worrying her when we don’t even know for sure if there’s reason to worry.”

“Sounds like good advice,” Ellison told him, giving him a pointed look which Blair understood.

“Yeah, my brain thinks so,” the younger man sighed. “But try telling that to the knot in my stomach.”

“Chief, even if it turns out to be...” Jim paused, as if unable to bring himself to even say the word ‘cancer’. “It’s not a death sentence, you know. Medicine’s come a long way, especially in the last few years. They can cure stuff today that they couldn’t even treat five or ten years ago.”

“I know,” Blair said quietly. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just watch tv or something, ok?”

The sentinel obliged, taking up the remote and hitting the power button. He flipped around until he found a movie that looked promising, but after a few minutes he realized his roommate didn’t care what he put on. Blair was staring at the tv, but his eyes were unfocused and unseeing. He may not have wanted to talk about his potential condition, but it appeared that he couldn’t help thinking about it. And Jim wasn’t faring much better, his own attention soon wandering away from the tv as he tried to convince himself of his own words. Even if his friend were sick, modern medicine would provide a cure. It just had to, for his soul wouldn’t survive any other alternative.

Christmas passed by largely unnoticed at 307 Prospect Place. Ellison was never really one to embrace the holiday spirit even at the best of times. And although Sandburg always enjoyed the sentiments of the season, he was too preoccupied to try and celebrate something that wasn’t even part of his religion. Steven, in an attempt to salvage something out of the dysfunction that was their family, had invited his father and his brother to his home for Christmas Day. Jim tried to talk Blair into going but he refused, not being in the mood to exchange pleasantries with people he barely knew in what was bound to be a strained setting. The sentinel didn’t want to leave his friend home alone on Christmas, despite all his protests that it was basically any other day for him. Their discussion became quite heated, so in the end the detective volunteered to work, figuring he might as well spell the people that actually had something to celebrate. Things were tense around the loft and only grew worse as the week passed with no word.

“Why don’t you call them and find out what’s taking so damn long?” Ellison demanded.

“They’re probably just backed up from the holidays,” Blair reasoned wearily. “They said they’d let me know as soon as the results were in.” He couldn’t hear his roommate’s grumbled reply, but he was sure it wasn’t anything constructive.

Joel invited everyone from MCU to his house for a New Year’s Eve party. Jim was sure he was asking for another fight, but to his surprise Sandburg accepted the invitation without hesitation. Little did he know that his friend was morbidly speculating the party could be his last one. They spent the evening trying to pretend everything was fine while they mingled with their friends, largely avoiding each other. Blair grinned at the good natured teasing he received, dodged questions over whether he was ready for the academy, and flirted half-heartedly with Megan, telling her that since they were both dateless they would have to kiss each other at midnight. And to his astonishment, the lovely inspector agreed.

When the clock officially struck twelve, everyone hoisted flutes of champagne, offering toasts and clinking glasses. The room erupted in cheers as everyone wished each other happy New Year. Sandburg saw Megan heading toward him, presumably for her kiss, but instead he turned to Jim who had come up beside him. They exchanged a look, both of them filled with anxiety over just what kind of a year it was going to be. And suddenly Blair began to shake, so afraid that he wasn’t going to live to see the end of it. The sentinel reached out, pulling his guide into a warm hug, holding him tightly against his chest.

“Happy New Year, Chief,” he whispered into his friend’s ear.

Sandburg sniffed slightly and blinked hard, some of the terror leaving him as he hugged the detective back. He felt safe and comforted, and he knew that Jim might not have the power to protect him from this threat, but he sure wasn’t going to let him face it alone. Ellison patted him on the back and then they pulled apart. Blair ran a hand through his hair, feeling new determination well up in him as he looked around for Megan. After all, he thought wryly to himself, if this was his last New Year’s he wanted to spend it kissing a beautiful woman, not hugging his roommate.

As Blair entered the Major Crime Unit he was relieved to see that it was largely empty, save for Ellison who was working at his desk. Sandburg was too keyed up to even try and carry on a normal conversation with anyone, and he just wanted to talk to Jim and get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Hey, Chief,” the detective greeted him in surprise. “What’s up?”

“The doctor’s office called,” Blair told him, getting right to the point. “They have the results of my test in.”

“Well?” Ellison demanded expectantly, leaning back in his chair.

“They don’t do it over the phone, Jim,” the younger man informed him. “I have to go in to the office.”

“Why the hell can’t they just tell you?” the sentinel growled in exasperation..

“The same reason you don’t tell people their loved ones are dead over the phone,” Sandburg reminded him. “It’s traumatic. You have to do it in person.”

“Well, what time is your appointment?”

“They didn’t give me one. The nurse just said to come in sometime this afternoon.” Blair hesitated, fiddling with the stapler on his roommate’s desk. “The thing is, they recommend that you bring someone in with you. A friend or family member, for moral support.” He glanced up to meet Ellison’s gaze. “I know it’s last minute and you’re busy...”

“No,” Jim interrupted, getting up from his chair. “I’ll go with you. Just give me a minute to tell Simon I’m leaving.”

Blair nodded, leaning on the edge of his friend’s desk as he disappeared into the captain’s office, relief washing through him that he didn’t have to face the news alone. The sentinel returned in a few minutes and closed up the files on his desk before grabbing his coat.

“What did he say?”

“I just told him I needed the rest of the afternoon off to take care of some things and he agreed,” the detective shrugged, leading the way down the hall to the elevator. They decided to leave Sandburg’s car parked outside the precinct and took the truck instead. Blair switched on the radio as soon as his friend fired up the vehicle, sparing them the need to talk to break the anxious silence. He bypassed the classic rock station in favor of modern alternative but Jim didn’t complain, apart from reaching out and turning the volume down slightly.

They arrived at the office building and the receptionist directed them to the waiting room, oblivious to the agitation the delay was causing the two men. Ellison relaxed into a chair, idly flipping through the outdated magazines that held no real interest for him. Blair didn’t even try to pretend to relax, sitting rigidly in his own chair with his hands clenched in his lap and his foot nervously tapping against the floor.

“I don’t even care what the verdict is anymore,” he complained. “I just want them to tell me so I can know. This waiting is killing me.”

Jim nodded slightly, not looking up from his magazine. But he couldn’t help feeling the opposite of his friend. As long as they didn’t know, he could hold on to that hope that Sandburg was fine. But once that verdict was cast, denial was all over.

Finally, the nurse that had assisted with the aspiration came out and announced that the doctor would see them. She escorted them into his office which was tastefully decorated, professional, but with just enough trinkets and mementos to make it personal. They sat down before the large cherry desk in silence, and after a few moments the door opened and the doctor came in. Blair could hardly breathe as he introduced Jim. Dr. Stern greeted him warmly and shook his hand before moving behind his desk and taking a seat. He glanced through the folder on his desk quickly and then closed it, folding his hands on top of it as he looked Sandburg square in the eye.

“Blair, as you know we took the bone marrow sample because of a few odd cells your doctor found in your blood. We were hoping it would be an exclusionary test, but I’m sorry to have to tell you that the results do confirm the presence of leukemia cells.”

The words hit him like a ton of bricks, and Sandburg was left sitting in stunned silence as he desperately tried to come to grips with what he’d been told. He thought he’d prepared himself for the worst, but imagining hearing it couldn’t even compare with actually hearing the diagnosis, his diagnosis, coming from the doctor’s mouth. Vaguely, he became aware that Jim was speaking, asking questions, and he realized he should be paying attention. But he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the word “cancer” as it thudded through his head like a drum. The scariest word in the English language. At least he thought so, until “chemotherapy”seeped into his consciousness and made him stiffen with fear. A fact that did not go unnoticed by the sentinel.

“All those horror stories you hear are probably exaggerated, right?” he asked, laying a comforting hand on his younger friend’s arm and looking to the doctor for reassurance. “I mean, there was a detective in Narcotics who went through chemo for prostate cancer and he never even missed a day of work.”

“There have been amazing advances in the development of anti-cancer drugs over the last few years,” Dr. Stern conceded. “However, you have a very aggressive form of cancer, Blair, and we need to be just as aggressive in treating it.”

“How aggressive?” Sandburg managed to get out.

“You’re looking at about a month long hospital stay initially. We’ll give you the chemo over a seven day period at as high a dose as we can without hitting toxicity. The drugs will kill off the cancer cells, but they’re going to kill off some of your blood cells, too, which will leave you susceptible to disease. So, we’ll have to keep you at the hospital until your blood counts reach a normal level. Your immune system is going to be vulnerable, so I’m going to limit you to only one or two visitors while you’re undergoing treatment. Do you understand?”

Blair nodded numbly. He didn’t understand what he scarcely heard, but he didn’t even know how to begin to vocalize it. Doctor Stern smiled sadly and got up from behind the desk, moving around to sit on the edge of it in front of his patient, looking him in the eye.

“The last thing I want to do is terrify you, Blair,” he said softly. “But I’m not going to sugar coat it for you, either. You deserve to know what to expect. And in all honesty, this is going to be hell. You’re going to be sick and in pain and you’re going to lose your hair, and some days you may wonder if it’s even all worth it. But this is the best shot we have for treating this disease, and there’s a good chance you’re going to come out of this in remission. Now, I’m going to give you two days to get your affairs settled and then I want you in the hospital, ready to go, first thing Friday morning.”

“Two days,” Sandburg chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head over the absurdity of it.

“I know it doesn’t seem like much but believe me, I’m being generous. Time is definitely a factor here, and we need to get started with the treatment as soon as possible.” Dr. Stern reached out and clapped the young man on the shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in all at once. How about we set you up with some literature that you can take home and read? Spend tonight absorbing all this, and then tomorrow you can call me with any questions you have? Ok?”

Blair nodded again, and the doctor called in his nurse and relayed his wishes. She led Sandburg out of the office and Jim started to follow, but Dr. Stern halted him with a hand to the arm.

“Detective Ellison,” he began. “I don’t mean to seem nosy, but since you came here with Blair today I’m assuming you two are close friends?”

“Yes, we are,” the sentinel answered, somewhat guardedly. “Why?”

“Because he’s going to need a good friend more than anything to get him through this,” the doctor explained. “The side effects of chemotherapy can be debilitating. There have been advances in drugs to combat them in recent years, too, but Blair’s probably going to be pretty miserable through most of the treatment. It’ll be your job to keep his spirits up. Make him believe that this isn’t necessarily a death sentence, and don’t let him get lost to fear and anger and depression. For all the medicine in the world isn’t going to help if he loses his will to get better. You have to keep bolstering him, anyway that you can. Do you think you can do that?”

Ellison hesitated, swallowing hard as he thought of his relationship with his friend over the past year. He hadn’t done much bolstering, and Sandburg had paid the price for it more than once, in one way or another. Jim wasn’t even sure he knew how, for his guide had always been the one bolstering him. Taking a deep breath, he decided it was high time he learned.

“I’ll take care of him,” he promised solemnly. He had to, for if he messed up this time he very well could lose Blair for good.

Jim tapped the steering wheel impatiently as he waited for the light, wondering if it would be worth the effort to stop and pick up something for dinner. Not knowing what state of mind his roommate would be in, he decided to wait and see when he got home. When they’d returned to the loft the previous afternoon after leaving the doctor’s office, Blair had still been in a state of shock. He’d refused food all together and hadn’t wanted to talk about it at all. In a way, Ellison had been secretly relieved for he was still trying to come to grips with it himself. After a mostly sleepless night spent worrying he offered to stay home with his friend, not wanting to leave him all alone. But Sandburg urged him to go to work, insisting that he had things to do and wanted a little quiet time to himself to think and make peace with himself. So against his better judgement the detective went to work, his worry for his guide making him curt and short tempered and generally alienating all of his coworkers before lunch.

The light turned green and Jim drove straight through it rather than detouring down the strip where rows of restaurants and fast food joints were located. He arrived home quickly and entered the loft, finding it dark and quiet. The sentinel turned on a few lights, more out of habit than need, and hung up his jacket, trying to tell the knot in his stomach that it was being ridiculous. True, the diagnosis had been devastating, but Blair was stronger than that. He was a fighter and he wouldn’t take the coward’s way out. In his mind Ellison knew that, but the knot in his stomach grew bigger as he glanced out of the balcony doors to see the darkness that was rapidly encroaching.

Fifteen minutes later Jim heaved a sigh of relief as the elevator doors opened and he sensed his partner coming down the hall. He dashed into the kitchen and began washing his hands, desperate to appear like he was doing anything other than pacing back and forth like a nervous wreck.

“Hey,” Blair greeted him as he came through the door and shrugged out of his coat.

“Hey,” Ellison replied. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just out for a walk,” Sandburg answered. “Getting some air down by the bay while I still can.”

“I was just going to throw together some dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Thanks, but I had a Mr. Tube Steak while I was down there.”

“And didn’t even bring me one,” the detective teased him. “Some friend you are, Chief.” He opened the refrigerator door to investigate potential meal possibilities. “Did you manage to get hold of Naomi today?”

“No,” Blair replied, fidgeting slightly on the other side of the kitchen island. “I called everywhere I could think of and nobody’s seen her for awhile. But I told everyone to have her call me immediately if she gets in touch with them.”

“She’s probably still on her... what did she call it? Spiritual quest?” Jim took a tupperware container out of the fridge, lifting the lid and sniffing at the contents. “I’m sure she’ll turn up somewhere soon.”

“I called my Uncle Seth, you know, the truck driver down in L.A.,” Sandburg continued softly. “He hasn’t heard from her either, but... Well, when I told him what was going on he invited me down to stay with him while I’m undergoing treatment.”

The sentinel nodded absently, shoving the container back in the fridge and digging for something deeper in the back. But when his guide’s words sunk in he stood up abruptly, letting the refrigerator door swing shut behind him as he turned to face the younger man.

“What are you saying?” he demanded. “You’re not actually thinking of going down there, are you?”

“I told him I’d consider it.”

“Look, Chief,” Ellison began, putting his palms on the island and leaning forward slightly. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do here. But I really think you should stay. It’s going to take time to move down there and get set up with another doctor. And you know Dr. Stern told us you really need to get started with the treatment ASAP.”

“I know that,” Blair replied, struggling to keep his voice steady. “But you know he also told us that I’m going to get really sick, too. I’m going to need some help with this, Jim, and I just thought maybe it would be better if I had some family who could...” He trailed off as his friend suddenly turned away from him, picking up the dish towel and swabbing it across the kitchen counter.

“Sandburg, after all we’ve been through together in the past four years, how can you say that we’re not family?” The sentinel’s voice was quiet, hurt.

“Jim, I didn’t mean it like that...”

“I know you’re scared, Chief,” Ellison told him gently, turning back around to face him. “But we’ll get through this together, right?”

“Are you sure, man?” Sandburg forced himself to meet his friend’s gaze, knowing he was probably sparking an argument with his defensive roommate. But this was an important matter, one that needed absolute clarification, and he had no time for walking on eggshells. “Whatever is going to happen, it’s going to be beyond your control. And that’s not always easy for you to deal with. You also have to look at this long term. It’s not like a bug I’m going to shake off over the weekend. And believe me, I appreciate that you want to help me through it, but I’m also worried that if you’re doing this out of some misplaced guilt or feelings of obligation that you’re going to end up resenting me.”

“That’s not going to happen, and that’s not why I want you to stay.”

“You say that now...”

“I know I’ve let you down before, Blair,” the detective interrupted, glancing away as he realized his friend was more than justified in questioning his commitment. “But I promise, you can count on me this time. I want to help you, and anything you need, I’m here for you.”

“You’ve never let me down, Jim,” the younger man murmured warmly, reading the honesty in his friend’s earnest words. “Not when it’s really mattered. I wouldn’t even be alive today if it hadn’t been for you.”

The sentinel couldn’t reply, his heart heavy as he compared his few successes with the countless times he had failed his friend. It was most definitely not evenly stacked, and he certainly couldn’t blame Sandburg for not trusting him to give him the support he needed. But he also didn’t want to burden his partner with his guilt, so he just reached out across the island and clapped his shoulder.

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” Blair’s head was down, but he nodded slightly. Ellison moved his hand up a little to rest against his neck, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Hey.” Sandburg looked up to see the sincerity and warmth and love shining out of his roommate’s blue eyes. “I’m going to get you through the rough spots,” Jim vowed. “And if I’m not enough, you have a whole bunch of friends that want to help in any way they can.”

“You told everyone?” the younger man asked, ducking his head again to hide the tears glistening in his own eyes. He had been every bit as aware of the wall between them as the sentinel, but hadn’t known what to do about it. Ellison seemed loathe to deal with the issues that had put it there, and Blair was afraid that trying to force him to do so would only cause further damage. But now in his hour of need, the wall of tenseness and negative emotion was fading. It hadn’t disappeared completely, but it was transparent and thin and they were able to reach through it and touch each other once again, and the relief of that almost overwhelmed him.

“I think it took Simon all of about three seconds to find out you withdrew your name from the academy roster,” the detective chuckled, turning back around to allow his friend a moment of privacy to wipe his eyes. “And about one second before he had me in his office, demanding to know what was going on. I didn’t know what else to tell him, so I told him the truth. That’s all right, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Blair sighed as his friend went back to the fridge. “I wanted to tell everyone anyway, but I didn’t really know how.”

“Oh, I broke it to them gently,” Ellison declared, causing Sandburg, who knew that the extent of his friend’s tact was short indeed, to snort loudly. Which Jim ignored, tactfully. “They were all pretty stunned, but everyone said to tell you not to hesitate to let them know if there’s anything at all they can do.”

“That’s nice to know,” Blair murmured, realizing how lucky he was to have such a great group of people as friends. And he was staggered at the show of love and support his sentinel had offered so freely, convincing him once and for all he wouldn’t have to fear the cold shoulder in his moment of need. He knew in his heart that this time his friend would not abandon him. And knowing he didn’t have to face his battle alone made it much easier to bear, and his dark mood began to lighten as some of the fear subsided.

“There’s nothing in here,” Jim grumbled, finally giving up on finding anything good in the refrigerator and deciding to order pizza. He closed the door and turned around to find his roommate already holding the phone out to him, a small smirk on his face. But when he opened his mouth to make a smart ass comment, Sandburg quickly held up his hands to silence him.

“Don’t say it,” he ordered, his grin getting larger. “It’s a rule, you can’t pick on someone with cancer.”

“I’m doomed,” the detective groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead theatrically.

“And don’t get that meat lover’s grease fest,” Blair continued loftily, moving into the living room to flop down on the sofa. “I want the veggie special.” When silence greeted him, he peered back over the edge of the couch, a perfect picture of innocence. “What? You aren’t going to deny the guy with cancer, are you?”

“You’re pushing it, Chief,” Ellison threatened. But he couldn’t hold back his own grin as he dialed and ordered a large, vegetable laden, pizza.

When the sentinel arose in the morning he found his roommate already up, seated at the table.

“Morning, Sandburg,” he murmured, making a beeline for the coffeepot and pouring himself a mug. “Or are you only answering to ‘Cancer Boy’ now?”

When no reply to his teasing came he glanced over, finding that Blair was thoroughly engrossed in the forms he was pouring over with no sign of the previous night’s jocularity. Stirring a spoonful of creamer into his coffee, Jim wandered over to look over his shoulder.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” the younger man sighed, taking off his glasses and hooking them on the front of his shirt. “I just don’t know how the hell I’m going to pay for this.”

“I thought you kept your insurance?” the detective questioned, picking up the booklet from the table. “It’s a pretty decent plan, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, for emergencies and the routine stuff,” Sandburg murmured, rubbing his hands over his eyes wearily. “But they have this extra cancer benefit which I never got because I never thought I’d need it. Not anytime soon, anyway.” He laughed humorlessly and looked up at his friend. “I’m not sure how much they’ll cover without it. But it doesn’t really matter, because even if they covered all of it I probably don’t even have enough to make the copays.”

“Blair, don’t worry about it.”

“Jim, I appreciate where I think you’re going with this,” he began. “But you can’t bail me out of this one. I’ve been sponging off you for the last few months, but room and board is one thing, man. I can’t expect you to...”

“Yes, you can,” Ellison interrupted firmly. He pulled out a chair and sat down, looking his friend in the eye. “Listen to me, Chief. You’re going to beat this thing, understand? But to do that, you have to put all your time and energy into it. You can’t lose focus stressing over something as stupid as money. If it comes down to that, I’ve got you covered. So I mean it, don’t worry about it. You just concentrate on getting better, ok?”

“I don’t know what to say,” Blair whispered, grateful for his friend’s generosity.

“Just say you’re going to do what I told you, for once,” Jim grinned. When the younger man nodded, he reached out and playfully tousled his hair. “Good. Because having you here means more to me than a few dollars ever could.” He got up, stretching slightly, and picked up his mug to take a sip of coffee. “Now, how about some breakfast?”

“By ‘breakfast’, do you mean cold leftover pizza?” Sandburg asked, hoping he didn’t sound as choked up as he felt.

“Possibly.”

“Go get ready for work,” Blair commanded, rolling his eyes. “I’ll scramble up some eggs.”

When the detective returned home that evening he found his roommate in the exact spot in which he’d left him. Seated at the table, although currently he was surrounded by a wealth of literature.

“Hey, Chief. Everything go ok at the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Sandburg replied absently. “They took enough blood out of me for three people and I had to go through more paperwork than midterms and finals combined at Rainier, but I’m all set for tomorrow.”

“Good.” Ellison moved closer to the table and waved at the stacks of magazines and articles and pamphlets. “And speaking of midterms, is there one I missed?”

“I gathered up every bit of information I could find on leukemia on short notice,” Blair explained. “And I’m really not liking much of what I’ve found.” He met his friend’s gaze, and Jim’s heart sank to see the first light of discouragement in his eyes. “I mean, there’s only a 30% chance that I’m going to be cured. And there’s a 10% chance the chemo alone is going to kill me. And did you know...?”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” the sentinel declared, holding up his hand to silence his friend. “I’ve been doing some of my own research, Chief. And there’s only two things that were of any interest. One, every case is different. And two, attitude has a lot to do with the outcome. So I don’t think you should let a lot of technical jargon weigh yours down.” He picked up a pamphlet and glanced at the glossy cover before tossing it back down on the table. “Come on, Sandburg. You’re a scientist. You know statistics can be manipulated to say whatever you want them to say. And half of this stuff is put out by drug companies, so of course they paint it out to be worse than it is to flaunt their product as a miracle cure. The doctors aren’t any better. Telling you how grave things are so you’ll think they’re brilliant when they cure you. Besides, I don’t care if there’s only a one percent chance of survival. You’ll be that one percent, Chief.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Blair murmured. He knew his friend had only been trying to make him feel better, but strangely it had worked.

“You’re welcome. Now go and get your coat. We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“Everyone from the station is taking you to dinner.”

“That’s sweet of them, but I’m not really in the mood for that tonight,” Sandburg hedged.

“Well, you’d better get in the mood,” Ellison ordered. “My hands are tied on this one, Chief. They are not going to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Jim, I’m going into the hospital tomorrow morning...”

“Exactly. And my mug is the only one you’ll be seeing for a month, so you’d better come and enjoy the company while you can.”

“You’re going to kidnap me and drag me there if I say ‘no’, aren’t you?” Blair sighed.

“You bet your ass,” Jim declared vehemently. “Because it’s MY ass on the line if I show up there without you.” Although he didn’t voice it, the sentinel was even more adamant that his friend wasn’t going to spend his last free night obsessing over all that depressing crap in front of him.

“Ok,” Sandburg reluctantly agreed. “Give me five minutes.”

While his roommate quickly changed, the detective discreetly gathered all his literature into a pile and “tidied” it away out of sight, wishing that he could store it out of mind as easily.

It was another sleepless night, although Ellison speculated it would probably not be the last. Not that there was much time for sleep, he thought to himself as he fumbled downstairs and switched on the coffeepot. They had stayed out much longer than they should have, but being surrounded by the lively group from MCU had helped Blair recover some of his good spirits, which was infinitely better than sitting by himself at home dwelling over bleak statistics. So the sentinel didn’t protest when they closed down Sandburg’s favorite fondue restaurant and relocated to a quiet bar down the street, for he knew that in a few scant hours his friend would be beginning his month long isolation. Besides, the hospital stay would give the kid plenty of time to catch up on his sleep. And as for the detective, well, he knew he’d survive on no sleep, for he had done it plenty of times. Everyone around him would be miserable, but they’d survive, too.

After a quick shower, Jim got dressed and helped himself to another cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, even though he wasn’t really that hungry. Glancing at the clock he realized it was later than he thought, so he went and knocked on the bathroom door to try and hurry his friend along.

“Sandburg? We’re going to be late. What are you doing in there?”

“Shaving,” came the reply.

The detective pushed the door open to find his roommate in front of the mirror with a layer of foam covering his chest.

“Why?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

“I have to,” Blair told him, turning his attention back to the task at hand. “They’re implanting some kind of catheter thingy.”

“What? What is that for?”

“I don’t know. The nurse didn’t really say.”

“Didn’t you ask?” When his friend didn’t answer, Ellison moved into the bathroom behind him, fixing a hard gaze on him through the mirror. “Listen, Chief, don’t start thinking that you don’t have any say into what’s happening to you. You have a right to know what they’re doing to you, and you have a right to ask questions until you understand. Don’t be afraid to speak up, ok?”

Sandburg nodded, and Jim slapped him gently on the back.

“All right. I’m going to go down and warm up the truck.” He started out the door, but turned back and nodded at his friend’s chest. “Don’t they usually do that for you at the hospital?”

“Yeah, but there’s this professor at Rainier that went in for a bypass and almost lost a nipple to a seventy year old woman with a dull razor. I’m not taking any chances.”

The detective laughed and went out to get his coat and his keys before leaving the loft and heading to the parking lot. Blair took a deep breath, thinking that with the way his hand was shaking maybe leaving the job up to a seventy year old woman wouldn’t be such a bad idea. But he managed to finish without incident, toweling the residual shaving cream off his chest and running his hand over it briefly, taking in the odd sensation of the unfamiliar smoothness. Then he hurriedly cleaned up the bathroom before dashing into his room and tugging a shirt over his head. Running his hands through his hair, he paused as he spied the gift that was lying on his desk.

When they had given it to him, they had apologized for not being able to come up with anything better on short notice. But Sandburg thought it was perfect. A group photo from the Christmas party with everyone dressed up and happy, smiling for the camera with their arms all around each other. They had all written good wishes in bubbles above their heads and had framed it for him. Blair smiled slightly, tracing a finger around the edge of the frame. He had been overwhelmed by the love and support they had all shown him. With no sign of pity, they had all offered him acceptance and affection and all their best wishes. Simon and Megan had both come up to him privately and reassured him that they would keep an eye on Jim and his senses while he was in the hospital, for which he was extremely grateful because that had been weighing on his mind. With a sigh, Blair added the picture to his bag, thinking once again that he was lucky to have such great friends. He picked up the coat that was lying on his bed, slipping it on and shouldering his duffle bag. Taking one last, long look around the loft, he turned off the lights and let himself out the door, locking it behind him.

It was too early for there to be much traffic and all too soon they were pulling into the large parking lot of Cascade General. Jim parked the truck and they both exited the vehicle in silence, the detective automatically shouldering Sandburg’s heavy bag. But as they began to walk toward the entrance the sentinel heard his friend’s heartbeat speed up, pounding rapidly in his chest as his fear mounted. Blair’s steps slowly began to falter, until he came to a stop outside of the hospital doors.

“I’m right here with you,” Ellison reassured his partner, rubbing a hand gently over his back. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

Sandburg turned those expressive blue eyes onto his friend and smiled slightly before drawing in a deep breath. Squaring his shoulders, he faced the doors and marched resolutely through them, determined to meet his fate, whatever it might be, head on. He made his way up to the admissions desk, desperately trying not to think about how long it was going to be before he could march back out through those doors.

Since he had taken care of all the paperwork the previous afternoon, Blair was quickly admitted to the cancer unit of the hospital. He was escorted to his room, which was small and drab but all his own out of concern for his soon to be compromised immune system. At least it had a private bathroom, for which he was grateful as he ducked inside to change into the gown he’d been instructed to put on. Feeling very exposed, he came back out and ignored Jim’s teasing smirk as he began to search the bag he’d brought for his bathrobe. But before he had the chance to cover up a nurse came to get him. She had bright orange hair arranged into an elaborate upsweep, too much makeup, and a syrupy Southern drawl, but for all her outlandishness there was something calming about her.

“They’re ready for you in the O.R., Sugar,” she told Sandburg as an orderly wheeled in a stretcher. “We’re going to take you down and get your catheter implanted.”

“Yeah, just hold on a second. What exactly is that and what does it entail?” the sentinel demanded brusquely when it appeared his friend wasn’t going to.

“It’s a small catheter that feeds into a vein right here,” the nurse replied, patting Blair gently on the chest. “It just leaves a small section exposed so that we can give you medicine or fluids. The chemotherapy drugs can be a little hard on the veins, and this just lets us have continued access to your bloodstream without having to keep poking at you. You’ll be awake during the procedure, but they’ll give you a local anesthetic. So don’t worry, Darlin’, you won’t feel a thing.”

Sandburg nodded and let them arrange him on the stretcher, but as he was being wheeled out he couldn’t help shooting Jim a scared look.

“You’ll be fine, Chief,” Ellison called after him reassuringly from the doorway. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

He watched until his friend disappeared into the elevator, then he went back inside and took it upon himself to finish unpacking Blair’s bag. It was a small chore, for he had only brought some personal toiletries and a few garments. When that task was finished, all that was left was for him to make himself comfortable in the chair in the room and wait. It took a little longer than he had expected, but before too long the nurse returned to tell him that everything went fine and that they’d be bringing Blair back in a few minutes. She disappeared but returned fifteen minutes later when the orderlies wheeled him in to help get him settled in bed. The nurse told him he could take off the hospital gown if he preferred, which he most definitely did, immediately changing into sweat pants and a loose T-shirt. Jim helped him, studying his friend critically as he did so, deciding that he looked a little tired but not really any worse for wear.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” Sandburg replied, shifting slightly to a more comfortable position. “It’s a little weird to have something sticking out of me, but I can’t really feel it.”

The detective nodded, leaning back in his chair and trying to steal a stealthy glance at his watch.

“So, you want to see what’s on tv?”

“I’m fine, Jim,” Blair told him with a small grin, having caught the gesture his friend had tried to hide. “And I know you have to go to work.”

“I can be a little late,” the sentinel protested.

“I’m sure the bad guys aren’t taking the morning off,” Sandburg teased him. “Really, I’m ok. So why don’t you go, before Simon calls here and chews me out for making you late.”

“All right.” Ellison stood up and slipped his jacket on. “I’ll stop by after work. But if you need anything before then, you call me, ok?” He grabbed his friend’s knee on his way out, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he passed by the bed . Pausing at the door he looked back, hesitating for a moment, then he turned and let himself out of the room.

Walking down the hall, the detective was torn by conflicting emotions. Blair had looked so lost and scared, no matter how brave a face he’d tried to put on. It was his first day in the hospital, and Jim really felt like he should have stayed to keep him company through it. But then again, it was the first day of a month long stay and things were only going to get worse. While Simon would never begrudge him a few days off if Sandburg needed him, the sentinel decided he should be frugal with his leave and reserve it for when things got bad for his friend. Besides, he knew if he stayed that Blair would only feel like he was a burden and keeping Ellison from doing his job, and he didn’t want to add one more worry to the younger man’s overflowing plate. Reasoning that his guide was strong and way more adaptable than he could ever hope to be, he figured that Sandburg would be all right for a few hours until after his shift was over.

But although he went to work, the detective’s mind was not there in the Major Crime Unit. His usual focus and concentration were gone and worry for his friend made him short and gruff with his colleagues. Captain Banks had seen it coming and had arranged for his best detective’s name to float to the bottom of the catching list, so the chance of his being assigned a case went down dramatically. Which left Jim free to try and catch up on paperwork and assist his fellow detectives with the clerical aspects of their investigations. Things, he noted sadly, that Sandburg had always done willingly and cheerfully during the past three years. Although no one had realized to what extent until he had left. The sentinel realized he had come to expect and demand such tasks out of his partner, often without a ‘thank you’ or a nod of appreciation over the work and time that he generously donated. Guilt welled up in him, but instead of dwelling on it he used it to further strengthen his resolve to make it all up to his friend. He’d bolster Blair all right, bolster the cancer right out of him. Then he could go to the academy and become his official partner, just like they’d planned all along. Only this time, Ellison vowed, he would lavish on Sandburg the respect and equality that he should have been giving him all along.

The day dragged on, but finally his shift was over. Jim left the station and went straight to the hospital, running into the nurse coming out of Blair’s room as he was about to go in.

“How is he?”

“He just finished up his first dose of chemo,” she told him. “He’s resting now.”

“I thought they weren’t going to start that until tomorrow,” Ellison frowned.

“Dr. Stern decided that he came through the implantation so well there was no need to wait,” she explained.

“I’m sorry if I was a little rough with the interrogation about that this morning,” the detective began, having realized that he probably shouldn’t be bullying the people in charge of his friend’s care.

“Don’t apologize for that, Honey,” the nurse assured him, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m always glad to see someone standing up for patients who can’t do it for themselves.”

“But he can,” Jim protested, feeling a strange need to unburden his soul to her. “Sandburg’s one of the most outspoken people I know.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s not like him to be so quiet. Not asking a million questions and driving everyone crazy.”

“This is a hard thing to deal with,” she told him. “Folks find themselves overwhelmed with it, especially at the beginning. We don’t give them any time to absorb the shock of finding out they have this disease before we yank them from their lives and shut them up in here and make them sicker than they ever felt before they were diagnosed. It all happens so sudden, most people just get swept up in the treatment and feel that everything is out of their control. It’s easier to just shut down and avoid it than try to understand and deal with it all. But a lot of patients do come around, and I think your friend will be one of those. Just give him some time to come to grips with all this, and until he does, you just keep being his advocate.”

“I will,” the sentinel promised, feeling better. “Thank you...” Ever since he had laid eyes on the woman he had been calling her “Flo” in his head, and it had almost slipped out of his mouth. Catching himself in the nick of time, he glanced at her nametag. “Darleen.”

“My pleasure, Sugar,” she told him. “Any other questions, don’t be shy.”

Ellison watched her move off down the hallway, suppressing a grin as he realized he was slightly disappointed she hadn’t told him to kiss her grits. Shaking his head, he pushed the door open to his friend’s room and went inside. Blair was asleep, so he had a seat in the chair and watched him carefully. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but Jim couldn’t help feeling that he should have been there with him for his first dose of chemotherapy. The sentinel sat with him for a few minutes, but then he decided to leave his friend to rest. Tiptoeing across the room, he whispered a good night from the door and quietly let himself out.

Although he normally had the weekends off, providing he wasn’t pursuing an active investigation, Simon had asked Ellison to come in and help with backup on a sting operation that was scheduled to be going down Saturday afternoon. It was a delicate situation that required crucial timing, and the captain felt that the sentinel’s organic surveillance would be invaluable to the operation. The detective agreed, but he left the loft early to stop by the hospital on his way to the precinct. Sandburg was awake when he entered, lying on his side in the quiet room and staring into space.

“Hey,” Jim greeted him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “Rough night?”

“Not really,” Blair replied, lighting up a little to see his friend. He sat up slightly and changed the subject. “What’s in the bag?”

“I just thought you could use a few things to brighten it up a little in here,” Ellison told him, setting the bag on the chair near the bed. He reached in, pulling out his roommate’s brightly colored afghan that normally adorned the back of the sofa and set it on the foot of the bed. Sandburg grinned as Jim dipped into the bag again and began pulling out an assortment of trinkets and knickknacks from the loft, muttering to himself as he tried to find places for everything. Except for the framed photo of the MCU gang, Blair had chosen not to bring any personal effects with him, for a variety of reasons. But after only 24 hours in the dull, clinical room, the bleakness of the sterility was already starting to weigh on him. He had to admit, a few homey touches went a long way in lifting his mood and he was filled with appreciation for his sentinel’s thoughtfulness.

“And finally,” the detective announced, reaching in and pulling out a stack of CDs which he handed to the younger man. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I just grabbed these. But let me know which ones you want and I’ll bring those with me tomorrow.”

“How am I supposed to listen to these?” Blair inquired, knowing that his friend couldn’t possibly have the stereo hidden away in his paper bag.

“Here.” Jim pulled out the last item, a brand new Sony Discman. “It’s a ‘First Day of Chemo’ present.”

“Thanks,” Sandburg murmured, taking the gift and looking up at his friend with grateful eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Ellison laughed. “I forgot to buy batteries for it.”

He had a seat and they talked for awhile, but the detective kept an eye on the clock and reluctantly got up when the hour grew late.

“I can stay, if you want me too,” he offered.

“I’ll be all right,” Blair told him. “Go on into work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You’re coming back tonight, right?”

“It’s a promise.” Jim pulled on his jacket and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Take care, Chief. I’ll see you tonight.”

Sandburg let out a long breath as his friend left and eased himself back down, rolling over to stretch out on his side. He felt sick, the nausea cramping his stomach painfully, but he also felt better as he reached down and pulled the afghan up over his shoulder. It smelled like home, chasing away the hospital smell and renewing his hope and determination that he was going to get back there as soon as he could.

The bust went off smoothly and the arrests were made without any injuries to either side. Ellison accompanied his colleagues back to the station and quickly typed up his version of the events, handing the report in to Simon so that he wouldn’t have to come in and do it the following day. With that wrapped up he was free to knock off early, although he remembered to stop off and buy batteries on his way to the hospital. But when he entered his friend’s room he found him already listening to one of his CDs.

“Tara brought me some batteries from the gift shop,” he explained, turning the machine off and pulling the earphones off his head.

“Who?”

“Tara. One of the nurses. She’s nice. And so are those.”

Jim grinned as he set the vase of flowers down on the table next to the bed.

“They’re from Connor. She’s sorry she can’t come and see you in person. They all are.”

“I know,” Blair murmured. “Thank her for me, ok?”

“Sure.” The detective took off his coat, draping it over the back of the chair before he took a seat. “Is that it?”

Sandburg followed his gaze to the IV bag that was feeding into the catheter in his chest and nodded.

“That’s it,” he confirmed. “Dose two. Only five more to go.”

Ellison studied the clear fluid, amazed that something so ordinary looking had such power. Both to heal, and to hurt.

“How are you doing?” he asked, concerned.

“Ok,” Blair replied evasively. “It’s a little cold going in, but otherwise I don’t feel it.”

“But you’re feeling it in other ways, aren’t you?” Jim demanded.

“I’ve got some nausea,” Sandburg admitted, shrugging slightly. “But we knew that was going to happen.”

“Have you told anyone?”

“It’s part of the treatment, Jim. They can’t do much about it.”

“Not if you don’t tell them about it,” the sentinel insisted.

“I did tell Tara,” Blair sighed. “She talked to Dr. Stern and he had her give me some medicine to help.”

“But it’s not helping, is it?” Ellison leaned forward, looking his friend in the eye. “Tell them again, Chief. And keep telling them until they get you something that does help. It’s their job, and it’s your right. Don’t start feeling like you’re bothering them. That’s what they’re here for, all right?”

“All right,” Sandburg agreed wearily, running a hand over his eyes.

“Good.” Satisfied, Jim leaned back in his chair, studying his friend. “You want me to go so you can get some rest?”

“No,” Blair said quickly, his eyes widening slightly. Worried that he sounded too needy, he looked away, his hands kneading the blanket on his lap. “I mean, you can go if you want to. But I’m not tired. Don’t go on my account.”

“I suppose I could hang around for awhile,” the sentinel said easily, giving his friend a warm smile. “The game’s about to start. Feel like some tv?”

Sandburg met his gaze and smiled back, glad to have the promise of company for the next few hours. He picked up the remote from the table next to the bed and turned on the television, not really caring what the outcome might be for the Jags. Blair was just glad he wasn’t alone.

Jim spent a few hours Sunday morning doing chores around the loft since the coming weekdays were going to be fully booked with work and Blair. He did some cleaning and laundry before running out to buy a few groceries, and once that was out of the way he was free to devote the rest of the day to Sandburg. After a quick shower, he took a few minutes to gather up some things that his friend had wanted and then he grabbed his jacket and keys and headed out the door.

But when he arrived at the hospital, Blair had little interest for the CDs and books that he’d asked for. He was decidedly haggard and it was apparent that the side effects of the chemotherapy had hit him full force.

“Sometimes it takes a few tries to hit on the right combination of the anti-nausea drugs,” Dr. Stern told them as he stopped by during his rounds. “I’ll change your prescription and we’ll see if we can’t take the edge off for you.”

Blair nodded and thanked him, but by the time he’d finished his third infusion of chemo the new drugs had yet to make an impact.

“I could go by the station and steal you some pot out of the evidence locker.”

Sandburg looked up sharply before he realized his friend was joking.

“What? It’s medicinal,” the detective continued with a straight face.

“That would be pretty funny,” the younger man murmured. “Spending my whole life avoiding drugs, only to start smoking weed now. And having a cop for a dealer, no less.” He closed his eyes, his grin becoming a grimace as he bit back a moan. When he got himself under control, he opened his eyes to see his friend looking at him with sad concern. “It’s getting late, Jim,” he spoke, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as it did to his own ears. “You should go on home.”

“It’s not that late,” the sentinel said quietly.

“Really, you don’t need to hang around here. I’m fine.”

“Blair. Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Ellison stood up slightly in order to pull his chair closer to the bed. He sat back down, gazing at his friend earnestly.

“Don’t try to hide what you’re feeling from me,” he told him gently. “You don’t have to pretend to be strong for me. I know you’ve spent your whole life trying not to worry or burden anyone else. But you have to get over that, Chief. This isn’t the time to try and be independent. You’re sick, and there’s no shame in that. Don’t waste your energy trying to fool me into believing that everything’s fine. I already think that you are one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, and you’ve just proven it again by the way you’re fighting this disease. I’m never going to think less of you for admitting you don’t feel well. So just drop the act, all right? Relax, and concentrate on getting better, and let me take care of you. You aren’t alone in this, buddy. Let me help you.”

Sandburg had looked away as his friend talked, and he was quiet for long moments. Finally, he turned back to face the sentinel, his eyes shining moistly.

“In that case, I feel lousy,” he confessed, a bit shakily.

Jim chuckled slightly, reaching out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder. Blair lifted a hand, covering the detective’s with his own, thanking him wordlessly for the support and love and the freedom to let go of his fears of burdening him. It wasn’t an easy thing for him by far, to accept, much less ask for, help even though he was always the first to offer his own. And he hated feeling weak in front of his sentinel, who was always the pillar of strength. But as he would never think less of his friend if their situations were reversed, he had to accept that the opposite was true. And he couldn’t deny it was a relief to give up the pretenses and to stop wasting energy pretending that he wasn’t suffering and in pain.

“You should still go,” Sandburg urged. “You have to work tomorrow.”

“I know.” Ellison sat back in his chair, stretching slightly. “But I can stay here until you fall asleep.”

“You don’t have to do that, Jim. I’ll be..”

“Fine, I know,” the sentinel filled in. “But I’m not doing this for you. I want to see if that cute nurse is going to come back. What was her name?”

“Allison,” Blair told him, settling back against his pillows and unable to hold back a grin for he knew very well just why his friend was staying and he loved him for it. “But she’s married.”

“Oh, well,” Jim said casually. “Maybe she has a sister.”

Ellison stopped by the hospital Monday morning but he was informed that Blair was in the middle of a sponge bath so he decided not to wait. He continued on to the station and spent another endlessly long and boring day going over files and running back and forth from the resource room. Rafe and Brown caught a homicide and he offered his assistance, but he felt no real passion to involve himself in the case. His thoughts were back in the hospital, where his best friend was suffering alone. He wanted to be there, but he realized with a sigh that Sandburg was being very well cared for.

Three main nurses rotated shifts through the cancer unit. Darleen, somewhat of a human cartoon, had turned out to be a very comforting mother figure. Tara was a toned down goth girl, with hair dyed jet black, heavy eyeliner, and as many piercings as the hospital would let her get away with. Jim had been suspicious of her at first, but Blair liked her, finding they had several things in common. And she had proven herself to be very competent, able to distract her patient as she worked on him by engaging him in discussions of bands or clubs or movies or books. Allison was a tiny, petite woman, whose size belied her strength. She was very pretty, with honey blond hair and warm brown eyes, and her whole being radiated with gentleness and compassion. Blair immediately felt at ease with all of them, and it also eased Ellison’s mind to know that Sandburg was being looked after by kind nurses who saw him as a person, not just another patient. But it was not quite enough to ease his conscience, which kept nagging at him that it wasn’t the same as having a friend there.

Once his shift was over, the detective drove out to the hospital and dumped a large package in his friend’s lap as he entered the room.

“What’s this?” the younger man asked as he struggled to sit up.

“I don’t know,” Jim replied with a shrug as he took his usual seat. “Simon just told me to give it to you.”

Sandburg plucked the card from the package and held it up, squinting to read it without the aid of his glasses.

“‘To tide you over until we can go out and do the real thing’.” He set the card on the table next to him and ran his hands over the package with a grin. “Now I’m afraid.”

“Just open it, already.”

Blair complied, tearing off the tissue paper and bursting out laughing as he unwrapped a child’s fishing game, and even Ellison had to chuckle as he examined the glossy box.

“Should we try it out?”

“I think we have to,” Sandburg answered with a twinkle in his eye. “It’s only polite to Simon. Where did you put those extra batteries you bought?”

As Jim retrieved them, Blair opened the box and began to assemble the game. It was a pond that rotated in circles, sporting colorful fish that opened and closed their mouths, alternately exposing and concealing a small magnet that allowed players to “hook” them with their poles. Once it was together and working, Ellison hopped up on the edge of the bed and they faced off with the game between them. It was over quickly with the sentinel emerging the victor, although it was probably due in large part to the giggling fit that had come over his opponent.

“Two out of three?” Sandburg offered, pushing the hair back out of his face with his right hand.

“Glutton for punishment,” Jim muttered, but he leaned over and began to put the small, plastic fish back into the various holes in the game. However, he looked up sharply when he heard his friend whimper.

Blair was staring in horror at his hand, which was coated with strands of his dark curls. He ran his left hand through his hair, and it came back the same way. After a moment, Sandburg looked up at the detective, his blue eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears.

"I knew this was going to happen," he whispered hoarsely. "I thought I was ready for it, but now... God, Jim, I don't know if I can stand this."

“Maybe it would be easier to just get it all over with now,” Ellison finally suggested quietly. “All in one shot. What do you say?”

Blair took a deep breath, not trusting himself to speak, and nodded slightly. Jim patted his leg through the blankets and got up, moving the fishing game from the bed to the floor. He went into the bathroom and returned with a brush and a plastic garbage bag and sat down at the head of the bed beside his friend. Very gently, he went to work on the tangled curls, guiding the brush through his hair and discreetly placing what came out into the bag. It seemed an eternity, but after a few minutes the job was done. The sentinel tossed the brush and the bag aside and wrapped his arms around the younger man who had been unable to choke back the sobs, although he tried. After a moment, Sandburg got himself under control and sat up, wiping his eyes in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, man," he murmured. "All that drama over some hair."

“I think you and I both know that was about more than just hair,” Ellison told him sympathetically.

"I want to see," Blair told him, running his hand over his bare scalp and wincing slightly as he felt the bald skin, punctuated by the occasional tuft of fuzz.

"Are you sure?" At his nod, the detective reached over and pulled the small hand mirror from the bottom shelf of the table next to the bed. Sandburg hesitated for long moments, then lifted the mirror and stared at his reflection. His lips trembled briefly and his eyes filled once more, but he blinked back the tears and drew in several long, ragged breaths, refusing to grieve anymore for the part of him that was lost and vowing that his first liquid expression of self-pity was going to be his last.

"You know, I never noticed before but you really do have a nice shaped head, Chief."

Blair glanced over at his friend, who was looking at him with a perfectly straight face. He tried not to smile as he handed the mirror back.

"And look on the bright side," Ellison continued. "Now H can't call you 'Hairboy' anymore. You always hated that."

"Yeah, great," Sandburg replied morosely, but there was a slight twinkle in his blue eyes. "I shudder to think of what he'll substitute it with. I'll take 'Hairboy' over 'Mr. Clean' any day."

"Give the man more credit than that," the Sentinel chastised. "I'm betting on Kojac."

"That wouldn't be too bad," Blair said thoughtfully. "At least I'd get a good catchphrase out of that one." He looked at the detective and grinned as they simultaneously shouted, "Who loves ya, baby?!"

"Of course, H is a big pool fan," Jim reminded him. "So you can't rule out 'Cue Ball' just yet, either. But I’ll work on him, see if I can tip the scales toward 'Kojac' for you."

"Thanks," Sandburg giggled. "You're a true friend."

“And just think of all the money you’ll save on shampoo and conditioner.”

“Seriously, Jim,” Blair told him, sobering. “Thanks.”

“It was my pleasure,” Ellison declared. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the day we met.”

“Guess it’s the karma I deserve for all those cracks I’ve made about your receding hairline.”

“My hairline is NOT receding,” the sentinel insisted vehemently.

“Whatever,” Sandburg sighed, rolling his eyes. “How about another game? Now that I’m aerodynamic, I think I can get the drop on you.”

“In a minute,” Jim said. “The exertion of the last one left me thirsty. I’m going to run down the hall and grab a soda. Want me to get you a popsicle?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll be right back.” The detective got up, stowing the brush back in the bathroom on his way out, along with the hand mirror so it would be purposefully out of immediate reach. He took the bag with him, disposing of it in a receptacle in the hallway before making his way down to the lobby of the cancer unit. Bypassing the soda machines, he entered the public bathroom and made his way to the sink, splashing some cold water on his face and taking a few deep breaths, trying to force back the bile rising in his throat.

When he returned to his friend’s room, Ellison was perfectly composed as he handed him the popsicle, which was one of the only things Blair could eat that didn’t send the persistent nausea spinning into overdrive. Taking the chair and sipping at his soda, the sentinel watched his guide peel away the paper from the frozen treat before he began sucking on it. Anyone that knew Sandburg remotely knew how proud he was of that head of hair. It was part of who he was, and it would have been one thing if it had been his decision to lose it, but it wasn’t. Not to mention it was a constant slap in the face reminder of the disease he battled and what it was doing to him. It had to hurt.

“You ok, Chief?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Blair answered as he slurped at the popsicle. “I mean, of course I’m not happy about this. It really sucks, but I’ll get over it. It’s just hair, and it will grow back.” He was quiet for a minute, then turned to his friend with a mischievous grin. “Besides, girls really dig bald men.”

They played a few more rounds of the fishing game, but it soon became apparent to the sentinel that his guide was not feeling well and was tiring quickly. So he put the game away and they passed the rest of the night flipping through the tv channels and making small talk. When it became time to leave, Ellison hesitated for a moment at his friend’s bedside.

“I can take off work tomorrow if you want,” he offered.

“Jim, we’ve been over this...”

“I know,” the detective told him. “But I just worry about you being here alone all day.”

“I’m not alone,” Sandburg protested. “It’s like Grand Central Station in here, man. All day long people are coming in and out. Nurses and aides and technicians and counselors and...”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” the sentinel interrupted.

“I know what you’re talking about,” Blair said. “And I appreciate it. But it’s ok, Jim. Knowing that you care and knowing that you’ll come eventually is enough. You don’t have to be here every minute.”

“You know to call me if you need anything, right?” Ellison demanded sternly.

“Yeah, you’ve only told me 400 times now.”

“Well, I know how well you’ve always listened to me in the past,” the detective commented dryly. “It takes 401 times to get something through your thick skull.”

“I’ll call, I promise.”

“All right.” Jim grinned, unable to resist noogying his friend’s bare scalp gently. “Although it seems like things are getting through easier now that your brain isn’t suffocated by that mane of hair anymore.”

“That’s enough bald jokes for one night,” Blair insisted, slapping the sentinel’s hand away. “Go on, get out of here.”

Ellison turned back in the doorway, giving his friend an encouraging, affectionate smile.

“Good night, Chief.”

“Jim!”

The detective looked up, catching Rafe’s wave from his desk across the room.

“Line two. It’s urgent.”

Heart pounding, Ellison seized the phone and immediately answered, terrified that it was the hospital calling to tell him that Sandburg had taken a turn for the worse.

“Hi, Jim,” a familiar, sunny voice called out from the receiver over the crackle of long distance static. “How are you?”

“Naomi,” he sighed in relief, leaning back in his chair and letting the anxiety drain out of him. “Hi. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Is Blair there?” she asked. “I heard he’s been trying to get in touch with me.”

“No.” The sentinel sighed again, hating to be the bearer of bad news. It went along with his job, but it was never easy, especially not when it was personal. “No, he’s not here. But he did have something to tell you. Naomi, are you sitting down?”

When Ellison arrived at the hospital for his nightly visit he found his friend just finishing off his fifth dose of chemotherapy and looking like death warmed over.

“Have you seen Dr. Stern today?” he inquired, realizing there was no point in asking how he was doing.

“He’s still trying to get the combination of drugs right,” Blair murmured, dragging himself up to accept the package his friend handed him.

“What was I thinking?” the detective muttered to himself as he took a seat. “That there was actually a science to this?”

“‘We thought you could use the down time to practice’,” Sandburg read from the gift card. “‘You need all the help you can get’.” He opened the present from Rafe and Brown to find a new set of cards and chips and a book entitled “How to Win at Poker”. “Hey,” he protested, pretending to be insulted. “I’m not that bad.”

“No, you just can’t ever tell when someone is bluffing,” Jim told him.

“Well, excuse me for not having a built-in lie detector.”

“I’ll have you know that I don’t cheat at cards,” the sentinel informed his younger friend loftily. “I don’t have to. I happen to be very good at reading people.” He reached out, picking up the book and flipping through it absently. “You want to try a few hands?”

“Maybe later,” Blair said, too tired to be anything but candid. “I’m not feeling so hot right now.”

“I’ve got something that will cheer you up.”

“What?” Sandburg asked as he set his gift aside and settled back down.

“I talked with Naomi today.”

“Really? Where is she?”

“Delhi. I told her what was going on and she made arrangements to get back here as fast as she could. I’m going to pick her up at the airport on Friday.”

“That’s great.” Blair sounded happy, but the detective didn’t miss the subtle glance he shot at the phone.

“She’s pretty worried about you,” Ellison hurriedly assured his friend. “She told me that she can’t get back here quick enough and ordered me to take good care of you until she arrives.”

“That’s one thing she doesn’t have to worry about,” Sandburg said with a grateful smile for all his sentinel had done for him. But inside, he was still stinging a little that his mother knew he was in the hospital and hadn’t thought to call him. Most of his friends from Rainier had called, and he’d spoken with everyone from MCU at least twice. Jim checked in on him once a day, minimum. Granted, it was long distance and she was probably busy with travel plans and packing, but he would have thought she’d at least phone him to see if he was ok and to tell him she was on her way. Blair sighed, realizing that his mother marched to the beat of a different drummer and didn’t always think the same way that the majority did. It was a lesson he’d learned long, long ago, but it didn’t mean she didn’t love him or wasn’t thinking about him. It was just the way she was.

Blair didn’t show much interest in the book that Joel had sent him. He had Ellison open the package for him and he barely glanced at it as his friend read the title: “How to Eat Fried Worms”. The sentinel was a little worried that Sandburg didn’t have a comment for the dig at his sometimes questionable eating habits. But Blair didn’t have much of a comment for anything, as all his attempts at conversation quickly died out. Jim didn’t take it personally, theorizing that his friend was just feeling bad and not in the mood to be congenial. So he put on the tv and flipped around for awhile, content to wait until Sandburg initiated something. The detective settled on a movie, but not long into it Blair began stirring. He watched as his younger friend struggled to get up, seemingly lacking the strength to climb out of the hospital bed.

“Need a hand?” he offered.

“No,” Sandburg muttered, falling back onto his pillows with a sigh. “Just call Darleen for me, will you?”

“Chief, I can help you...”

“Jim, please,” Blair implored him, his blue eyes heavy with despair over his helplessness. “Just let me hang on to the one shred of dignity I have left, ok?”

“All right,” the sentinel said quietly. He got up, pushing the call button on the wall next to the bed to summon the nurse. When he detected her footsteps coming down the hall, he excused himself to give his friend the privacy he seemed to want, slipping out of the room past Darleen as she came in and retrieved a urinal from the bathroom.

Ellison waited down the hall, and after a few minutes the nurse exited his friend’s room. He lingered for a few minutes more, then returned and resumed his seat in the chair.

“Are you ok?”

“No, Mr. Detective of the Year,” Sandburg snapped, rolling over to face the wall. “I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m definitely not ok.” He was quiet for a moment, then turned back around to face his friend. “I’m sorry.”

“If you need to lash out, do it,” Jim told him softly. “Go ahead, I’m right here. Get it out of your system.” He stood up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed when the younger man remained silent, clicking off the television as he did so. “It’s ok to be angry, Chief. And it’s ok to be scared. The thing is, you just can’t sit on these feelings. You have to use them as weapons to help you fight this.”

“I don’t know how much fight I have in me,” Blair confessed, averting his eyes. “This nausea... I can’t even describe what it’s like. I had food poisoning before and it isn’t even in the same ballpark as this. I ache all over. Everything hurts. I can’t get warm, and I’m so tired but I can’t sleep.” He paused, swallowing hard before he continued. “And I’m scared. I don’t want to die like this.”

“You are NOT going to die,” the sentinel insisted firmly, putting an arm around him and rubbing a hand along his back.

“Not as long as your black jaguar is on duty,” Sandburg joked weakly. He closed his eyes, trying to beat back the nausea wrenching in his gut. When it subsided, slightly, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. “It all makes me wonder though. What was the point of going through all that at the fountain that day? Why did I come back, if this was all that was waiting for me?”

“This isn’t all that’s waiting for you,” Ellison told him, feeling a deep ache in his chest. “You’ve only got one more day of chemo to go and you’re going to make it through this, Chief. And once you do, there’s a lot of good you’re going to do for this world. That’s why you came back. Because you are the shaman of the great city and your people need you. And so do I.”

“Some shaman,” he wearily jested. “I can’t even empty my bladder without help.”

“What can I do, Blair?”

Sandburg looked up to meet the warm gaze, so full of concern.

“Tell me what I can do to help you.”

“Well,” the younger man sighed, licking his dry lips. “You could sing.”

“Sing?” Ellison demanded.

“Yeah, you know. Any old song. My mom used to do it for me. It relaxes me and helps take my mind off things.”

The sentinel frowned, not having the faintest idea what he could sing that would be appropriate to the situation. But his concentration was broken by his guide’s sudden snort of laughter.

“You were really going to do it,” Blair snickered as his friend’s expression switched rapidly from deep thought to confusion to embarrassment. “I can’t believe you were really going to sing for me.”

“Oh man,” the detective muttered, scarcely believing he’d been suckered in so easily.

“So, what was it going to be, Jim? A nice lullaby?”

“How about a chorus of ‘You’re Dead Meat if You Ever Mention This Again’?”

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Sandburg leaned back against his pillows, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. “But I bet you have a lovely voice.”

“Now you’ll never know,” Ellison promised wryly. But his own grin faded rapidly as his friend blanched and curled forward as another spasm of nausea rocked him. “Easy, Blair,” he comforted softly, rubbing a hand along his partner’s shoulder. “Just breathe, buddy. I’m here.”

“That’s all I really need,” Sandburg gasped. He closed his eyes, wincing as the last waves of pain receded to a tolerable level, then he slowly forced his body to relax and looked up at his friend with utmost sincerity. “You help me just by being here, Jim.”

“Then you’ve got me as long as you want me, Chief,” the sentinel promised, squeezing the trembling shoulder underneath his hand gently. He gave his friend a reassuring smile, though in truth he had never before felt so helpless. “Let’s just talk for a little bit, ok? Take your mind off it. Tell me something you’re looking forward to, when this is all over and you get out of here.”

“I don’t know...”

“Come on, Blair, talk to me. You have to have something you’re hanging on to. Anything. What do you want when this is all behind you?”

“I want...” Sandburg sighed, swiping a hand wearily over his face. “Honestly, all I want is for things to be like they were before. You and me working together like we used to. But there’s no way it can be like that again, is there?.”

“Well, not exactly,” Jim said thoughtfully. “But we can still work together once you make detective, and we can still do the sentinel thing on the side. It won’t be the same, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be just as good, or even better.”

“You really think us being official partners can work?”

“Now in that aspect, nothing will change,” the sentinel told him with a straight face. “I’ll pick up the clues at the crime scene and you analyze them and come up with some theory rooted in an obscure ancient culture to explain the motive. I’ll chase the bad guys down with guns blazing, you call for backup and do the paperwork, and we’ll take turns taking the lumps. It’s the perfect formula for success.”

Blair grinned, some of the sparkle returning to his eyes as, for a few precious moments, he was distracted from the constant pain.

“When you put it like that, what could possibly go wrong?”

Ellison entered the darkened loft, flicking on the light switch more out of habit than of necessity. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, taking a long drink as he checked the time. Deciding it was late, but not quite late enough to be considered unacceptable, he picked up the phone and dialed his captain’s number.

“Banks,” came the gruff answer. “This better be important.”

“It’s me, Simon,” the sentinel told him, shrugging out of his jacket. “I’m sorry to call you so late.”

“That’s all right,” the captain assured him, more congenial upon identifying his caller. “Is everything ok, Jim?”

“I need the rest of the week off,” the detective told him bluntly.

“Is Sandburg all right?” Banks asked worriedly.

“Yes and no,” Ellison sighed. “The doctor says he’s doing all right, considering what he’s going through. But this chemo’s really doing a number on him. Tonight he was too weak to even get up and go to the bathroom. He can’t keep anything down, he’s in constant pain, and he’s scared to death. I just hate seeing him go through all that alone, and I feel like I should be there with him.”

“Then I think you should be there.”

“I can’t do anything to help him,” the sentinel said quietly. “But the thing is, Simon, he told me that he feels better when I’m there. He thinks he’s dying, but I get the impression he believes he won’t die if I’m with him. Like I’ll be able to stop it, because of what happened at that damned fountain.”

“Jim, do what you need to do,” Banks told him. He shuddered slightly, not wanting to think about that horrible day when they’d all found Blair floating face down in that fountain. The kid had been stone dead, there was no doubt about it. But somehow, in some mystical way, Jim Ellison had refused to let him go and had performed some sort of miracle to bring him back. It freaked him out, freaked everyone out that was there that day. So although they were beyond grateful that it had happened, they all chose to block it out, pretend that it didn’t. Sandburg had come back to them and that was good enough. None of them felt the need to investigate the hows and whys. But if the incident had left Blair with the impression that Ellison had the power to ward off death, then Simon was not about to begrudge him the strength he needed to get through his treatment. “Take off however many days you need, and tell Sandburg that we’re all thinking about him.”

“I will,” Jim murmured. “Thank you, sir.”

He hung up the phone and checked the answering machine as he finished off his beer. There were a few chores he needed to do and he supposed that he should check Blair’s room and make sure it was ready for Naomi, but he wanted to go into the hospital early in the morning so he decided to call it a night. He got ready to turn in, but before he went to bed he stopped in front of his dresser, opening the small, decorative box on top and pulling out the thick curl that was nestled inside. Winding the lock of hair around his finger, the sentinel clenched it tightly as his breath started coming in gasps and his eyes stung with tears.

“Stop it,” he ordered himself, blinking hard and forcibly slowing his breathing. “He’s going to be all right.”

Tucking the curl back into the box, he stroked it gently with his finger before shutting the lid. Hopping into bed, Ellison pulled the covers up over his head, wishing with all his heart that he could have shouldered this burden for his friend, for he would have done it gladly.

When Jim returned to the hospital in the morning he was overjoyed to find that some of the strain was gone from Blair’s face. The drugs to counteract the side effects of the chemo had finally taken effect, giving Sandburg a much needed respite from the debilitating nausea. He still felt sick, but it was at a more tolerable level. The medicine left him drowsy, though, and he kept dozing off throughout the day. Ellison didn’t mind a bit, for he was just happy to see his friend able to rest peacefully for the first time in days. When Blair was sleeping, Jim ducked out to grab some coffee or to get something to eat, or entertained himself with the papers and magazines he’d brought. And when Blair was awake they either talked or watched the tv. The detective had his excuse all ready as to why he wasn’t at work, but to his surprise Sandburg never questioned it. Ellison wondered about it, but then he figured that his friend had probably lost track of the days, or else he was just too hazy to realize something was amiss.

Early in the afternoon a woman stopped by the room with a cart full of wigs, asking if Blair would be interested in trying any of them. He had no desire to go around sporting fake hair, but he invited her in and sampled a few, just for fun. Jim even joined in, modeling a hideous Farrah wig, thinking it was worth the sacrifice of his dignity if it would wring a smile out of his friend and getting amply rewarded with a hearty laugh. The woman good naturedly let them have their fun and she left Blair with a dark blue paisley bandana. Ellison folded it for him and tied it around his head before stepping back to study his handiwork, nodding in approval.

“You look real tough, Chief,” he teased. “Original gangsta.”

As afternoon flirted with evening, Darleen came in with the final chemo dose and administered it to his IV. Blair eventually drifted off but Jim kept to his seat, his eyes fixed on the fluid in the bag as it drained drop by drop into his friend. Until finally it was empty and the nurse returned to unhook him.

“That’s it, Darlin’,” she murmured to her patient as he stirred awake. “Seven out of seven and you sailed through with flying colors. Now we just need to build you back up so you can get out of here. Can you try and eat something for me tonight?”

But just the mere thought of food was enough to make Blair gag, so she brought him a popsicle that he sucked listlessly, even though the cold helped numb the sores in his mouth. Jim stayed with him until visiting hours were over, when Sandburg urged him to go home. And though he hated to go, it was a little easier to leave his friend this time as he was reasonably sure that Blair would finally manage to get a good night’s sleep, with a little chemical help. The sentinel figured it was time he went home and got a good night’s sleep of his own, maybe with the help of a couple of beers.

Ellison arrived at the hospital late in the morning, having spent the early hours getting the loft ready for Naomi. Blair seemed quiet and languid, but as the day wore on he began to perk up, his excitement building in anticipation of his mother’s arrival. Jim finally got fed up with his inquiring as to the time every two minutes and left, driving out to the airport to pick her up. Her flight was listed as being on time, but he was early so he had a leisurely lunch in one of the terminal restaurants. He killed the rest of the time in one of the newsstands, picking up a few new magazines and a paperback he thought Blair might like. Then he headed for the gate, arriving just as passengers began streaming in. Naomi spotted him right away and rushed toward him, greeting him enthusiastically and giving him a crushing hug.

“How was your flight?” he inquired when she finally let him go.

“Terrible,” she chirped brightly. “It’s a wonder I even made it here alive.”

As they headed to baggage claim, she filled him in on the trials and tribulations of her trip and then began regaling him with tales from her time in India. Jim listened politely, but as they got into his truck and left the airport he had to interrupt.

“Do you want to go back to the loft first, or would you rather go straight to the hospital?”

“Oh, let’s go to the hospital,” Ms. Sandburg replied. “I can’t wait to see Blair. How is he?”

“He’s hanging in there,” Jim told her, thinking it was about time she asked. “I guess he’s doing pretty well, all things considered. He just finished up his induction chemotherapy, but he’s going to have to stay in the hospital a couple more weeks to recover.”

They made small talk during the drive, but as they pulled into the parking lot of the hospital Ellison hesitated, taking Naomi’s arm and stopping her from getting out of the truck.

“I should warn you, he really doesn’t look good,” the sentinel said softly. “It’s going to be a shock when you see him.”

“I understand.”

As they entered the hospital and made their way up to Sandburg’s room, Jim did his best to prepare her. But as soon as Naomi laid eyes on her son, so ravaged by the chemo, she promptly burst into tears.

“Mom, it’s ok,” Blair called out to her, obviously distressed. “I’m all right. Don’t cry.”

She went to him, sitting on the edge of his bed and hugging him tightly to her.

“Oh, Sweetie,” she sobbed, releasing him and gently caressing his cheek. “Look at you. Look at your aura! How could you do this to yourself?”

“Do what to himself?” Ellison demanded, striding forward. He had meant to give them a few minutes, but the accusation in her words filled him with ire. “He didn’t do anything. This isn’t his fault.”

“Mom doesn’t really believe in drugs,” Blair explained somewhat sheepishly. “At least not the synthetic drugs of Western medicine.”

“The pharmaceutical industry is nothing but a scam devised to line the corporate pockets,” Naomi added scathingly. “They’ve been treating cancer for years in Tibet with natural herbs and medicinal plants.”

“Well, we aren’t in Tibet,” Jim reminded her coldly. “And here he would have died without these ‘synthetic drugs’.”

“From the look of him, I’d say he’s dying from them,” she snapped back.

“Mom, no,” Blair protested, drawing her into a hug as her tears began to fall once more. “I know it looks bad, but I’ll be ok. I promise.”

The detective turned his back on them and began counting to 100 before he could open his mouth and say something he might regret.

Ellison had jumped to the erroneous conclusion that once the chemotherapy was over, Blair’s condition would immediately start to improve. But Sunday found him no better, and even though the drugs helped take the edge off, it was obvious he was still suffering. Dr. Stern explained to them that it would take some time for the effects of the chemo to begin to fade, but that he was doing well and there was every reason to be optimistic.

But it was hard for the sentinel to be optimistic when he looked at his friend. As much as he hated to admit it, there had been some truth to Naomi’s words, as insensitive as they were. In just a little over a week Blair had deteriorated drastically. He’d dropped so much weight he looked boney and gaunt. His skin was ashen, and his bright blue eyes had dulled and sunk into his head. The drugs were killing the cancer, but they were doing a real number on the rest of him as well. But there was one thing they couldn’t touch, and that was his smile. It may have only been a shadow of itself but it was still there, sunny, warm, and little bit mischievous. Whenever he saw it, it renewed Ellison’s flagging optimism for he knew that Blair was still with him and still fighting. Sandburg always managed to conjure up a grin for him, no matter how badly he might have been feeling.

And that was suddenly rather hard to determine, thanks to Naomi. She could barely look at her son without dissolving into tears and she never missed an opportunity to point out he looked like death warmed over. And when she wasn’t crying over him, she was reprimanding him for agreeing to such a barbaric treatment and falling under the spell of greedy sadists in white coats. Once Jim even overheard her blaming Blair for making himself sick, telling him that he brought the disease on himself with all his negative energy. As a result, Blair became mute as far as his pain went. In an effort to avoid upsetting his mother he clammed up, refusing to admit that he felt sick or tired or scared, and he began channeling his precious little energy into convincing her that he felt great and everything was fine. It frustrated Ellison to the point where he wanted to scream, after the work he’d done to finally get his self-sacrificing friend to be straight with him and accept his help only to have him end up back where he started, exhausting himself proclaiming that life was a bowl of cherries.

Jim narrowed his eyes as he studied his friend, thinking that now was another perfect example. Sandburg had been awake all morning and he was worn out. While he never had any qualms about catching a nap before, he was now obviously unwilling to admit that he was tired to his mother, struggling to focus his bleary eyes with stubborn determination on the pictures Naomi was showing him.

“And this is Humayun Tomb,” she told him, handing him another snapshot. “It’s so beautiful. When I took this, I imagined that someday you and I could see it together.” She trailed off, the tears welling up in her eyes yet again. “I’m sorry.”

Blair sighed as his mother slid off the edge of his bed and hurried out of the room.

“Jim, can you make sure she’s ok?”

The sentinel glanced down, meeting his friend’s worried gaze and giving him a tight smile.

“Sure, Chief. I’ll go after her.”

Ellison stepped out of the room, more than happy to go after Ms. Sandburg but not for the reason Blair thought. He’d managed to bite his tongue for two days in the interest of keeping the peace, knowing how protective his friend was of his mother. But enough was enough. She was down at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall, and his long stride caught up with her quickly.

“Please, Jim,” she sniffed, searching her purse for a tissue. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

“And we need to talk,” the detective replied firmly.

“About what?”

He looked into her wide eyes, her gaze so much like that of her son. But where Blair’s innocence was rooted in the purity of his soul and his belief in the best of mankind, Naomi’s innocence stemmed from her complete inability to concern herself with anyone else but her.

“Look,” he sighed, trying to get his point across without hurting her feelings. “I know you’re upset, but this has to stop. You can’t be breaking down in front of him all the time. It isn’t fair to him.”

“I don’t understand,” she told him, the innocence draining away as her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Blair needs your love now, not your pity and your tears.”

“Oh, I suppose it’s easy for you,” she snapped. “The tough pig. Too hard and cold to let anything get to him.”

“Naomi, you don’t think it breaks my heart to see him like this?” Ellison demanded hotly, his patience wearing extremely thin. “You don’t think it kills me to have to see him lying in that bed, wasting away, getting pumped full of toxic chemicals that are leaving him more dead than alive? You don’t think it makes me sick to see him lose his hair and have to fight to stay awake for more than ten minutes at a time? You don’t think that I would change places with him in a second if I could?”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” she remarked bitterly.

“Because it’s not about me.” He wanted to shout at her, but he struggled to keep his voice low. “And it’s not about you. It’s about Blair, and what he’s going through. He needs our support. What he doesn’t need is having to worry about us. Putting on a brave face so he doesn’t upset anyone. And he doesn’t need the added burden of trying to comfort his mother. You should be doing that for him!”

Ellison cut off the indignant reply she looked like she was about to make by turning abruptly and stalking off to his friend’s room, leaving her staring after him, anger burning her eyes instead of tears.

“Is Naomi ok?”

The detective’s irritation rapidly evaporated as he took the seat next to his friend’s bed. Blair had obviously been struggling to keep himself awake, and the question had been little more than a whisper.

“She’ll be fine,” Jim told him softly. “She’s just worried about you, and she’s getting some air.”

“I’m doing all right.”

“Yeah, you are, Chief,” the sentinel grinned, glad to hear the determination in the weak voice. “But why don’t you close your eyes for awhile, huh? We’ll both be here when you wake up.”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, Blair let his heavy lids fall and within seconds he was asleep.

Since Sandburg had his mother there to keep him company, Ellison dutifully returned to work although he wasn’t exactly happy about leaving the two of them alone together. After he’d reamed her out, Naomi had returned with a changed attitude. But Jim wasn’t sure it was for the better. She started overcompensating, going overboard in her fervor to take care of her son, doting on him and babying him to a ridiculous degree. Blair appeared confused, not used to his mother fawning on him and not sure how to take it. But in the end he just indulged her whims, like he usually did. And slowly but surely as the days went by, his pain began to ease and his strength started to return.

Then he experienced a setback in terms of a bacterial infection. His chest became sore and a distinct ill feeling settled over him, bad enough for him to verbalize it. Naomi wasn’t fazed by his halting confession, but Jim was instantly concerned, checking him over to find that the skin around his catheter was red and inflamed. He immediately summoned the medical staff and they removed the catheter and started Blair on heavy antibiotics. But he still spent three days in a feverish daze as the infection ran rampant through his compromised immune system. And for several days after the fever broke he was left so weak he could barely lift his head.

But his recovery continued and he kept making progress, considering it a personal triumph when he was able to make it to the bathroom on his own. Blair pushed himself, focused on his goal of going home, and he diligently tried his best to do everything the doctors and nurses and therapists recommended. The only area in which he failed was eating. Once the catheter was taken out, he lost the continuous IV nutritional supplement on which he’d been surviving and it became even more important for him to take in adequate oral sustenance. This he knew even before being lectured repeatedly by the medical staff. But he simply had no appetite for anything. And more often than not when he tried to force himself to eat something he just ended up getting sick. Jim began bringing him milkshakes and smoothies every night when he stopped by after work, since he seemed to be able to handle them without too much problem. And while it wasn’t the optimum in nutrition, it was at least something and had the potential to put a little bit of meat back onto his bones. Dr. Stern agreed with him, but Naomi definitely did not approve of her son’s ice cream diet. However, she was never there when Jim stopped by with the treats so there never was much of a battle.

Naomi spent her days at the hospital, content to let Jim have the evenings, and they took turns on his days off. These rotating shifts were implemented ostensibly so they could spell each other, but in truth a tension had sprung up between them and they had formed an unspoken agreement to try and avoid each other. Which was fine with Ellison. He enjoyed having his friend to himself, without being forced to watch Naomi hover over him like he was a child. They would talk while Blair tried to eat whatever the sentinel brought him, and if that settled all right they’d go through the exercises that the younger man was supposed to work on. Jim helped him when he needed it, but he also encouraged him to be as independent as possible since he knew Blair wasn’t allowed to lift a finger during the day when his mother was around. And as Sandburg gathered strength, their routine expanded to include games and wheelchair derbies out in the hallway. At least until Darlene put a stop to the fun after Jim slipped on the newly polished floor and sent Blair crashing into a cart of bed linens.

With a sigh, Blair glanced at the bathroom mirror and made a face at his reflection. He absolutely loathed hospital gowns, not understanding why doctors and nurses felt the need to compound the stress and anxiety of being in the hospital with the tacky garments that definitely left one feeling uncomfortable, exposed, and vulnerable. But he also realized that he didn’t have a lot of room to complain, as he’d been spared the humiliation for the majority of his stay. For the most part, he’d been allowed to wear pretty much whatever he wanted, only being forced to suffer the gowns during certain procedures. Such as the one he was about to endure. Blair was definitely not looking forward to it, but if it was one of the final hurdles in his home stretch then he was ready and willing to leap.

As he came out of the bathroom, Sandburg noticed that his room had gotten slightly more crowded.

“Hey,” he greeted his friend. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting a witness statement from a gunshot victim down in the ER,” Ellison explained.

“So what are you doing HERE?” Blair asked him with a pointed look.

“Taggart can handle it,” the detective told him with a grin. “He sends his regards. He really hates not being able to come up and see you. But I told him hopefully it won’t be too much longer.”

“Hopefully,” the younger man echoed, his gaze drifting over to the waiting technician. “We’ll see.” He returned to his bed, climbing into it somewhat awkwardly as he kept a tight hold on the back of his gown in order to avoid giving Jim any ammunition for unnecessary verbal comments.

“Ok, Blair, I need you to lie on your side for me and pull your knees up to your chest.”

Sandburg complied, smiling as his mother appeared in front of him. It had taken her a couple of days, but once she’d accepted that he was set on his current course of treatment she had thrown herself into doing everything she could to support him and take care of him. Not really something she necessarily had a lot of experience in, but Blair admired her dedication and enthusiasm and he loved her all the more for trying. He hadn’t always been able to count on her in the past, and it filled him with a comforting warmth to know that she was there for him now.

Blair felt his gown being opened and a sheet was draped over his hips to protect his modesty. A cold antiseptic was painted across his back and he couldn’t help wincing as a needle full of anesthetic pierced his skin. Naomi cooed at him as the technician prodded experimentally, searching for the right spot before announcing that he was ready to begin.

As he was instructed, Blair took a deep breath and tried to relax. But as the needle was carefully inserted into his spine he automatically went rigid. The anesthetic had numbed the surface, but when the needle penetrated his back a searing pain shot through him. Screwing his eyes shut, he clenched his teeth together, trying to bite back an agonized moan. A sob echoed in his ears and for a moment Blair thought it had come from him. But then he realized it had come from his mother as she turned away from him, unable to face his pain.

A large, warm hand closed over his, and Blair gripped it gratefully between his own, squeezing it as hard as he could. The other hand found it’s way to his shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly. As the technician began collecting the sample of spinal fluid, Blair couldn’t hold back a strangled groan. Jim leaned over him, whispering words of reassurance into his ear, until finally the probing needle withdrew, taking the excruciating pain with it.

Blair went limp with a quavering sigh, but he opened his eyes to meet his friend’s fond gaze. He still held his sentinel’s hand between his own and he gave it a little squeeze, gently this time, to say “thanks”. And he knew what the soft squeeze in return on his shoulder meant. There was never any thanks needed between them.

Dr. Stern entered and smiled to see the neatly packed bag on the bed and his patient fully dressed and pacing restlessly around the room.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you didn't like it here with us," he teased, picking the chart up from where it hung on the end of the bed and flipping through it. He pulled a pen out of his coat pocket and jotted down a few notes, then looked up to meet the expectant gaze. "I take it you're ready to get out of here."

"Absolutely," Blair told him, hoping that they hadn't found any reason in the last barrage of tests they'd done that morning to keep him there any longer. "Not that I don't appreciate everything you've done..."

“You did most of the work,” the doctor said with a wink before growing serious. “Now, as I told you the other day the blood tests and the LP show no signs of cell abnormality. Your cell counts are within range, so the only thing that still concerns me is your weight. I would have preferred to see you gain a few more pounds back before you left, but your mother and Jim both have sworn to me that they’ll see to it that you eat. You’re not going to give them any grief about that, are you?”

“No, sir,” Sandburg replied, shaking his head emphatically.

"Then let me go find Allison and I'll send her in here with a wheelchair," the doctor said with a grin, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "Your mother's out front, and we don't want to keep her waiting."

"Thank you," Blair sighed. The thought of leaving the hospital was all that had kept him going some days, and he couldn't help having the irrational fear that a cruel twist of fate was going to deny him what he'd longed for. But the moment was finally here. He was going home. Sandburg resumed his pacing as the doctor left, and kept at it until the nurse arrived with his mandatory transportation. He hopped in and she handed him his bag and his jacket. The day before Jim had made several trips out to the truck, loading up boxes of the things he’d brought to the hospital as well as the stacks of cards and gifts that had been acquiring over the past six weeks. So Blair was just left with his duffel bag, which he clutched in excitement as he was pushed out of the room and down the hallway.

Naomi was waiting in the lobby, her camera poised and ready to preserve the moment her son left the hospital. Blair grinned in embarrassment as he climbed out of the chair, slinging his bag over his shoulder amid a series of flashes.

"Mom, come on," he complained, pretending to be more chagrined than he actually was.

"I can't help it," she exclaimed, putting down the camera long enough to come forward and give him a hug. "This is a day for celebration, and I want to remember it." Naomi released him, holding him at arm's length as she studied him. He was pale and thin and looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. But he was walking out on his own and his eyes sparkled happily, so she smiled and hugged him again tightly. "Do you want to wait here and I'll bring the car around?"

"No way," Blair said firmly, slipping on his coat and tugging his knit cap down over his bandanaed head. "I've been looking forward to this."

He said goodbye to Allison, who gave him a kiss on the cheek and wished him well. Then he and Naomi set off to where his beloved Volvo was waiting for them across the lot. The wind had a bite to it as it rushed unabated through the flat parking lot, but Blair didn't mind. Nothing was going to dampen his spirit, which was soaring high and proud in it's newfound freedom. Ms. Sandburg had been expecting that her son would want to drive, but to her surprise he climbed into the passenger seat without a word. Shrugging slightly, speculating that he just wanted to sit back and enjoy the ride, she slid behind the wheel and started the engine, turning the heat on high to take the chill off.

"Jim didn't want to come with you, huh?"

Naomi glanced at her son, who was staring out of the window. His voice had been casual but she knew that it really meant a lot to him.

"I'm sure he did, Sweetie, but he has to work. You know that."

"I know," Blair replied quietly. He did know, and he understood. Jim had already sacrificed some of his scant vacation time to be there with him during his treatment, and he couldn't ask his friend to give up any more for no reason. But his escape back to the living world was a celebration for him and it would have been a little sweeter with his sentinel there, for it was partly thanks to Ellison that he had gotten through it at all.

"Do you want to stop anywhere before we go back to the loft?" Naomi asked him, pulling out into traffic as she exited the parking lot.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "I just want to go home."

Blair thought he saw his mother bristle slightly, but then he decided it was just his imagination as she turned to give him a quick smile before turning her attention back to the road. He put it out of his mind as they navigated the streets of Cascade, his excitement growing as they got closer to their destination. When they reached the loft, Naomi had barely gotten the car parked when her son leapt out of it and began trotting toward the building. She hurried to catch up with him, afraid that he had bolted up the stairs but glad to find him waiting for the elevator. They rode up to the third floor and she let him lead the way down the hall, grinning as he fumbled slightly with his keys before unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Sandburg startled, his bag hitting the floor and his jaw quickly following. His blue eyes darted dazedly around the loft, taking in the bright decorations and the sea of faces before him as the chorus of "surprise" rang loudly in his ears. Jim quickly strode forward, grabbing his stunned friend and pulling him into a big bear hug.

"Welcome home, Chief," he whispered into his ear, before turning him loose to the rest of his friends who were waiting to greet him in kind. Everyone from Major Crime was there, as well as a few other people from the station and a group from Rainier. Blair found himself overwhelmed by the love and support that surrounded him, and it was a few minutes before he felt composed enough to even try to speak. When he had gotten himself under control he made the rounds around the loft, making sure to speak with each individual there and thank him or her for the calls and cards and gifts that had made his hospital stay bearable. Finally he found himself at the kitchen table, which was loaded with snacks and piled with a mountain of small gifts and trinkets. Jim caught up to him there, pressing a glass of juice into his hand and leaning in close to his ear.

"What do you think of Connor's new look?" he inquired with a nod.

"It's cute," Sandburg shrugged, following his friend's gaze across the room where the inspector, sporting a short, pixie haircut, was in conversation with a grad student from Rainier.

"Rumor has it she cut her hair and gave it to Locks of Love," the sentinel told him, clapping him on the shoulder.

Blair's eyes misted with tears as Megan turned and caught his gaze, giving him a warm smile. Not for the first time, he realized just how lucky he was to have such an amazing group of kind, compassionate people as friends. He didn't say anything about what she'd done, but he casually made his way back toward her, giving her a tight hug which she returned fiercely, no words needed between them.

The party continued on but Sandburg quickly found a seat on the sofa, letting the guests come up to him instead of making the rounds. Ellison was watching him carefully, and when it became obvious that his friend was tiring he caught Simon's eye across the room and gave him a nod. Banks immediately halted the festivities with his booming voice, ordering all of his personnel back to work. They grumbled and groaned but obediently began collecting themselves and saying their farewells. The Rainier gang followed suit, previously having been instructed by their host that under no circumstances was Blair to become fatigued. He was sorry to see them go but Sandburg couldn't deny that he was approaching exhaustion, so he said his goodbyes amid promises of visits and activities in the near future. Finally, everyone had gone save for Naomi and Ellison.

"Jim, I really appreciate this, man," Blair told him sincerely, touched that his roommate had willingly subjected himself to such a mass violation of his treasured privacy. "I can see you put a lot of work into this."

"Ah, it wasn't that much work," the sentinel said modestly as he slipped into his jacket. "And I did have help."

"Don't go blaming this on me," Naomi scolded. "This was all his idea."

"Well, everyone wanted to see you, and I just thought you could use a nice welcome back." Jim turned to face his friend, lowering his voice slightly and letting the concern creep into his tone. "Are you doing all right?"

"Yeah," Blair replied, giving him a faint grin. "I'm good."

"Good," the detective grinned back, clapping him on the shoulder. Sandburg did look tired and it hadn't escaped the sentinel's attention that he hadn't eaten anything at the party, but the light of happiness and love of life was shining out of those blue eyes as strong as ever, so he figured that Blair was telling him the truth. "I have to get back to work, too. Get some rest, ok, Chief?"

Sandburg nodded, but as his friend left the loft he turned and began collecting the plastic cups and paper plates that were strewn around the room.

"I'll do that, Sweetie," Naomi told him, coming forward with a trash bag in her hand. "Why don't you go lie down for a little while?"

He didn't want to, for it bothered him immensely how quickly he had tired, but the prospect of curling up in his own bed for a quick nap was just too much to resist. So he left the clean up to his mother and headed for his room, pausing to gently touch the huge banner that stretched across the living room.

"Welcome home, Blair," it read. And truer words were never written.

While Sandburg was indeed glad to be home, he met the first few days with a measure of uncertainty. He was definitely feeling better, but he was still a long way from being at the top of his game. The transition from being at death’s door in the hospital to being home, in remission and expected to just pick up where he left off, turned out to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. He was elated to have won the first battle, but he was also feeling anxious as to the ones that still lay ahead. His sense of balance had been lost, but he kept his worries to himself and tried to adjust the best he could.

The routine and restrictions of his post-cancer life also warranted some adjustment. Blair was required to take a small pharmacy of pills on a daily basis which landed them on a first name basis with Steve, the neighborhood druggist. Medicines to treat his condition, medicines to counter the side effects of those medicines, supplements, vitamins.... It got confusing quickly, until Jim made up a color coded chart so they could keep everything straight. And as his immune system was still vulnerable, Sandburg was restricted from subjecting himself to enclosed public areas, such as airplanes, malls, movie theaters, or sports arenas. Out of similar concerns, he was also cautioned against raw vegetables, unpeelable fruits, lettuces and other edible plants due to risk of bacterial contamination. Hand washing soon became his newest hobby. It was a bit overwhelming, but he tried to tell himself he just needed a little time to adapt.

The sentinel could see that the transition back to the world wasn’t exactly an easy one, even though his guide hadn’t complained. Jim thought a short break away from it all might help and suggested that they join Simon and Darryl for the weekend at the fishing cabin they had rented. Naomi was opposed as March had roared into Cascade in typical lion-like fashion and she didn’t feel that her recovering son should subject himself to such inclement weather. But Blair eagerly agreed, knowing that the change of scenery would do him good even if he spent the whole weekend inside by the fire. So when the detective got off work on Friday afternoon, they packed up the truck and drove north to the rustic cabin in the woods, arriving a mere half hour behind the Bankses.

Once both vehicles were unloaded and rooms claimed, Simon and Jim began sorting through their supplies and bickering over dinner, each man believing himself to have the superior camp cooking skills. Blair just shook his head with a chuckle, thinking there was nothing like the prospect of hunks of meat grilling to bring out the alpha in any male. Leaving them to duke it out on their own, he went off in search of Darryl. The boy had been visibly shocked by Sandburg’s gaunt appearance and it was obvious he was uncomfortable around him. Not wanting to spend the weekend walking around feeling self-conscious, Blair decided to get everything out in the open right off the bat and hopefully put the teenager at ease so they both could relax.

“Hey,” he greeted, not waiting for an invitation as he entered the bedroom where Darryl was holed up. “I figure we might not be eating for awhile, since those two can’t even agree on how to get the fire going in the wood burning stove. So I brought you these.”

“Thanks.” Darryl kept his eyes down as he reached out and took the bag of chips Blair held out to him.

“Guess I look pretty bad, huh?” Sandburg ventured as he sat down on the empty bed across from the boy.

“No, not really.”

“Come on, Darryl,” Blair grinned. “You can’t even look at me. It’s all right, I know I’m hideous.”

“You aren’t hideous.” The teen met his gaze and held it for a second before he looked away.

“Ok, maybe not hideous. Grotesque?”

“Blair, come on, man...”

“All right, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to get you to lighten up. Look, I’m ok with all this so you don’t have to pretend like you don’t know something’s wrong. And it’s ok to talk about it if you have questions. Anything you want to know you can ask me or your dad...”

“My dad,” Darryl scoffed, rolling his eyes skeptically. “All he’ll tell me is that you were sick but you’re getting better now.”

“I get the feeling you don’t quite believe him,” Blair said wryly, grinning slightly at the teenage melodramatics.

“You don’t look like you’re getting better,” the boy murmured softly, ducking his head. “You look like a kid that was in my class in fourth grade.”

“He had leukemia, too?” Sandburg pressed gently.

“Yeah. And he didn’t get better.” Darryl looked up and Blair could see the honest concern and worry in his eyes. “Can I really ask you anything? And you’ll tell me the truth?”

“I promise.”

“Are you going to die, Blair?”

“I don’t know,” Sandburg answered softly. “That one’s out of my hands. Right now I’m doing ok, but there’s a chance the cancer could come back. I can’t say what’s going to happen down the line.”

Darryl nodded, his young shoulders slumping slightly and Blair shook his head, realizing he was adding to the boy’s fears instead of laying them to rest.

“But I can tell you I’m not going to die this weekend,” he continued, reaching out and giving the kid a friendly punch on the arm. “So how about a little wager? Ten bucks says Jim and I catch more fish than you and your dad. What do you say?”

“That’s a sucker bet,” Darryl told him. “When those fish get a load of your hideous face they’re all going to go belly up.”

“Ooh, burned!” Blair winced theatrically, then held up his hand for a high five as the teen seemed uncertain as to whether his crack was inappropriate or not. But Sandburg definitely preferred teasing over denial and comfortable familiarity over avoidance. With the ice broken, Darryl relaxed and began asking questions, which Blair was more than happy to answer. From a young age he’d learned to automatically associate the dreaded disease with death, but once he had the facts many of his fears were allayed. Which was one of the things Darryl had always loved about Sandburg. Blair never dismissed him as a kid or talked down to him. He could be a little dorky sometimes, but he could always be counted on to shoot you straight. And by the time Simon stuck his head in the door to call them to dinner they were back to normal, affectionately trading insults as they passed Darryl’s Game Boy back and forth.

Blair tired quickly and was quiet during dinner. He made a valiant effort to eat, more for Darryl’s sake than his own, but he couldn’t manage more than a few bites of bread. The after dinner entertainment seemed to be a three way argument debating the merits of Trivial Pursuit, Dominoes, and Blackjack, so Sandburg bowed out gracefully. He retired to the room he and Jim were sharing and spread his sleeping bag over the mattress on the far bed before changing into a T-shirt and sweat pants. Shivering a bit he crawled into his sleeping bag and curled up, relaxing with a sigh as he grew warm and drowsy. He and Jim had been to the cabin a few times before, as it was a favorite retreat of the Major Crime Unit. Definitely rustic and short on frills, not even having electricity. But it was quiet and clean and at least had running water and indoor plumbing, allowing for a feeling of roughing it without having to give up the most basic and essential creature comforts. Blair wasn’t missing the frills, happy enough with a reasonably soft bed and soothed by the sounds of the spring peepers calling outside the window as he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up briefly when he heard Jim come to bed, and then again when he rose even though the sentinel’s sight prevented him from fumbling noisily in the dark as he got dressed.

“What time is it?” Sandburg muttered painfully, trying to force his eyes to open.

“Almost five,” Ellison whispered. “I’m going out to hit the stream.”

“I’ll come with you,” Blair offered, even though he made no attempt to move.

“It’s pretty cold out there,” Jim told him with a grin. “Why don’t you stay here where it’s warm? You can come out later when the sun’s out and the temperature comes up some.”

“‘K,” the younger man sighed, burrowing back down into his sleeping bag.

“Well that was a hard sell,” the sentinel chuckled to himself. He left the room, closing the door behind him and going into the kitchen to build up the fire and make coffee. Simon joined him a few minutes later, and they shared a simple breakfast while they waited for the water to boil.

“Darryl’s not coming?” Ellison asked as they gathered up their gear.

“Please,” Banks scoffed. “He’s a teenager. It’s against their code to be seen in the light of day before noon.”

“Guess it’s just us old timers,” Jim joked. “Let’s go show these whippersnappers what the elderly are made of.”

“Speak for yourself, Ellison,” Simon told him haughtily.

They left the warmth of the cabin behind and walked a short distance down the hill to the stream that wound through the trees. Braving the cold air and the even colder water, the sentinel waded in and began casting expertly over the riffles. And within a minute, he was pulling out his first fish.

“Show off,” Banks shouted grumpily from the shore where he was still tugging on his boots.

“The first of many,” Jim shouted back proudly, holding up his nice sized catch. “You might as well just hand over that ten bucks now and save yourself the trouble.”

“We’ll see about that.” The captain turned and began moving downstream to stake out his own hole, determined not to let his detective show him up.

They spent a few hours fishing on their own, working the stream from different directions before they finally met back up to compare scores. Both men had impressive totals, but Ellison ended up with the early lead.

“Using my flies,” Simon groused. “All right, it looks like I need some help. I’m going up to the cabin to drag Darryl out of bed. Want me to check in on Sandburg?”

“If you don’t mind,” Jim answered. “I’m going to head up there soon to get something to eat, if he needs anything.”

Banks nodded and started up the hill and Ellison turned and waded back out into the stream in an effort to put a little more distance between his total and his opposition’s. But before too much time had gone by he heard his name called and he looked over his shoulder to see his captain waving him in. He carefully waded back to the bank, bidding a cheerful good morning to Darryl who grunted back sleepily, absorbed in attaching one of his father’s flies to the end of his line.

“I think you should go up and take a look at the kid,” Simon said quietly.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s burning up.”

“Ah, damn it,” the sentinel cursed, taking off his Jag’s cap and running a hand over his hair. “All right. Thanks, Simon.”

Banks clapped him on the shoulder and moved off to follow his son, who was already wading out into the stream. Jim tightened his line and secured his hook before propping his pole against a large rock. Then he peeled off his waders, leaving them behind with his gear as he quickly strode back to the cabin. He entered to find Blair sitting on the couch, wrapped in his sleeping bag and looking miserable as he sipped at a steaming mug of coffee.

“Hey, Chief,” Ellison greeted him softly as he had a seat beside him. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Sandburg murmured wearily. “I felt ok when I woke up. It just hit me all of a sudden.”

The sentinel rubbed his hands together vigorously, blowing on them to warm them before reaching out to feel his guide’s forehead. Simon had not been exaggerating, and Jim felt the irritation inflating inside him like a balloon. All he’d wanted was for his friend to have one weekend’s peace. Just two short days of relaxation and escape from his new world of hospitals and doctors and cancer and chemo. It didn’t seem like a lot to ask, but apparently it was too much and the unfairness of it all pissed him off royally. But that wasn’t evident in the gentleness of his touch and tone as he regarded the younger man.

“I’m going to go look around and see if I can find you something for this.”

“Simon already hooked me up,” Blair informed him, nodding toward the aspirin bottle on the table.

“Do you want to go back home?”

“No,” Sandburg replied quickly. “I’m going to go lie down for awhile and see if the pills help.”

“Are you sure?” Ellison asked him.

“Yeah. Go on back out there, Jim. I’m ok.”

The sentinel hesitated, speculating that his guide was downplaying in an effort not to cast a black cloud over anyone’s fun. He had pretty much lost interest in fishing and didn’t really want to leave his friend alone, but he also knew that if he stayed it would only stress Blair out more and make him feel like he was being a burden. Leaving him alone was probably the best option, as it would allow him to let himself rest instead of wasting energy trying to convince everyone he was fine or arguing that Jim should be out enjoying himself.

“All right,” Ellison finally conceded, tucking the drooping sleeping bag securely around Sandburg’s shoulders as they both stood up. “But I’m coming back to check on you in a little bit. Simon and I are just right outside if you need anything. You know I’ll hear you if you call.”

“I know,” Blair whispered, giving him an affectionate smile before he turned and shuffled off to their room.

Jim returned to the stream, but he didn’t bother to don his waders again. Instead he made a few half-hearted casts from the bank and mostly encouraged Darryl and Simon in their endeavors. After 45 minutes he couldn’t stand it any longer and went back to the cabin. Sandburg was asleep, but he stirred and awoke at his sentinel’s touch.

“Sorry,” Ellison told him. “How you doing? Feeling any better?” Blair shook his head and the answer didn’t surprise him, since his guide felt even hotter than he had an hour ago. “Here. Take a sip of this.” Sandburg obediently raised his head and swallowed a little of the neon sports drink that his friend had purloined from Darryl’s stash in the cooler. “Ready to go home now?” Jim asked gently, smiling slightly as the apologetic blue eyes sought out his gaze.

“Would you mind?”

“No, I don’t mind,” the sentinel reassured his guide. “I’ll go and start packing up our gear. Why don’t you try and go back to sleep for a bit and I’ll wake you up when everything’s loaded and ready to go, ok?”

“Thanks, Jim,” Blair whispered gratefully.

“You got it, buddy,” Ellison grinned. “But that $10 we’re going to owe Darryl and Simon for forfeiting is coming out of your pocket.”

Sandburg did fall into a light sleep as his friend left him and went outside to gather up his fishing tackle and tell their two companions that they would have to cut the weekend short. While he dozed, Jim quietly packed both their belongings after quickly deciding that what Blair was wearing was good enough for the ride home and there was no real reason for him to actually get dressed for the trip. When the vehicle was loaded, the sentinel started the ignition and turned on the heat, leaving it to warm up while he went inside and woke his guide. Darryl and Simon had come up from the stream to say goodbye and both expressed their wishes that Blair would feel better soon. He somewhat sheepishly thanked them and promised that they could try and repeat the weekend soon, then he stepped outside where Ellison was spreading his sleeping bag in the backseat of Simon’s car.

“It was Darryl’s idea,” Jim told him as he helped his ill friend into the cosy nest he’d prepared. “He thought you might be more comfortable in their car where you could lie down here in the back. They’ll bring the truck by and we’ll swap back tomorrow.”

It wasn’t ideal, but Blair had to admit it was definitely better than riding shotgun in the truck. He relaxed against the pillows and snuggled down under the warm sleeping bag as Ellison got behind the wheel and buckled up before pointing the car back toward Cascade. They were both quiet and Jim started to think his friend had fallen asleep until the soft voice from the backseat broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Jim.”

“For what?” the sentinel asked, glancing in the rearview mirror and taking in his guide’s troubled expression.

“For ruining your weekend.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Ellison promised him. “Besides, how many times have I dragged you away because my senses were going crazy and giving me headaches?”

“That hasn’t happened in a long time,” Blair said thoughtfully. “You seem to have a pretty good handle on your control.”

“Thanks to you,” Jim told him warmly. “You taught me how. You know, Chief, I never would have made it through these past few years if it hadn’t been for you. That’s why I’m happy to return the favor now.”

“I hate that you have to,” Sandburg sighed. “And I really hate that Darryl had to see this. He already thinks I’m dying.”

“Don’t worry. Simon will set him straight.”

But Blair had his doubts about that, knowing that parents often patronized their children with the best of intentions, believing that they couldn’t be hurt by what they didn’t know. What they tended to forget was that not knowing and having to rely on fragments and imagination was usually way more detrimental than the truth could ever be. He considered asking Ellison to talk to Darryl and reassure him, but before he could the motion of the car and the hum of the tires overcame him and he lost the battle to keep his eyes open.

Blair woke up when the car stopped, and he struggled to pull himself up enough to look out of the window.

“Relax, Chief,” the detective advised him. “I just had to stop for gas. Do you want anything?”

“Water.”

Ellison filled up the tank, noting that the total was quite a bit smaller than it normally was for his truck and wryly speculating that his boss would be demanding compensation for the difference. He went inside the convenience store, which was small but thriving as it was one of only a few in the sparsely populated area. Nobody seemed to be in any particular hurry, lingering to make small talk as the cashier rung them up and seemingly oblivious to the sentinel’s growing impatience. But finally it was his turn and he paid for his gas and two bottles of water and a packet of ibuprofen, declining a bag and ignoring the friendly woman’s attempts at conversation. He left the store and trotted back to the car, climbing into the driver’s seat so he could start the ignition and get the heat flowing again. Reaching behind him, he handed one of the waters to his guide, then tore open the foil packet and shook out the two white tablets.

“Try these,” he urged, squirming around in his seat so that he could lean over into the back. “They might work a little better than aspirin.”

Blair accepted the pills and tossed them back with a gulp of water, then he leaned back against the pillows and met his sentinel’s concerned gaze.

“Jim, I’m feeling really... Something’s not right,” he said quietly.

“Do you want me to call Dr. Stern?”

“No. It’s just that...” Sandburg trailed off, closing his eyes briefly and nodding. “Yeah. Call him.”

Ellison pulled out his phone and quickly realized they were still out of cell range. Undaunted, he exited the car and sprinted over to the pay phone in front of the store. Dr. Stern was out of his office, so the best he could do was leave a message with his answering service. The sentinel went back to the car and got in the front but again twisted around to lean over the seat.

“He isn’t in but he’ll get back to us,” he explained, reaching out to check his guide’s temperature. It was too high, and the detective’s concern immediately progressed to worry. Whatever was making Sandburg sick, it was apparently too much for his weakened immune system to handle. It was hitting him fast and hard and Ellison could see his condition was deteriorating rapidly. He popped open the glove compartment and found a few napkins crammed inside, so he opened his own bottle of water and soaked one of them with the cool fluid before again draping himself over the seat. It was a rather ineffectual method of treatment, but the best he could manage in the middle of nowhere. Blair took the soggy napkin from him and swabbed it listlessly over his flushed face. “Hang on, buddy,” Jim reassured him as turned to face forward and reached for his seat belt. “We’ll be home before you know it.” They pulled out of the parking lot and started back down the highway, with the detective resisting the urge to put on the captain’s emergency lights.

They arrived back home just as a cold rain began to fall and Ellison quickly ushered his friend into the empty loft and helped him to bed. Sandburg absently wondered where his mother was, but Jim didn’t care, having more important things on his mind. Dr. Stern finally called him back, apologizing for the delay. Their discussion became rather animated as the doctor felt that Blair should return to the hospital and the sentinel was not inclined to agree. After all, Sandburg had just gotten out of the hospital and Jim was not about to see him return so soon, arguing until the doctor agreed he could try caring for Blair at home as long as his fever didn’t get any higher. He prescribed a powerful, broad spectrum antibiotic in the hopes that it would fight off whatever was overpowering Blair’s weakened immune system. The sentinel braved the cold wind and the drenching rain to go out and pick it up from the pharmacy, and when he got back he found that Naomi had returned to the loft.

She shared his steely determination to keep Blair out of the hospital and kept an anxious vigil with him, dedicating herself to ensuring her son stayed hydrated and diligently monitoring his temperature. Jim did the same, although he didn’t need a thermometer to keep track of his friend’s raging fever. His sensitive fingers told him what he needed to know as he did everything he could to bring his guide’s temperature down. And finally their efforts paid off and the fever broke as Blair relaxed into peaceful sleep.

However, it was to be the last time his two caregivers would collaborate. Both Jim and Naomi came through the scare with a blazing resolve to help Blair in whatever way they could. But they each had a different idea as to what that meant, and neither agreed with the other’s definition. A sort of unspoken rivalry crept up between them, and an almost unconscious competition began over who could take better care of the patient. And as the days went by, they started to despise one another. It escalated to the point where they could barely stand to be in the same room together, although when Blair was around they were very careful to hide their mutual loathing, forcing themselves to be pleasant for his sake.

Naomi had realized early on that she wasn’t going to turn her son away from his acceptance of the Western medicine that was killing as it cured. But that didn’t mean he’d completely turned his back on the new age practices that she wholeheartedly believed in, so she made it her duty to guide him through all the complimentary therapies that she could. Blair embraced most of the techniques, believing them to be beneficial and also believing that traditional and alternative medicine could happily coexist side by side. And he indulged her more “out there” theories with a smile, figuring that they couldn’t hurt. For her part, Naomi took great joy in seeing the lines of tension and pain ease out of her son’s face as he settled into healing relaxation. But she became so focused on fine tuning Blair’s inner harmonics, she forgot about his body as a whole and didn’t even seem to hear the things that he was trying to tell her.

His refusal to even try some the herbal medicines she got for him angered her. Patiently, Blair repeatedly explained to her that he couldn’t take natural herbs because they could have a negative interaction with the medicines he was already taking, but she refused to be placated, unable to see why he was so enamored of corporate poisons that were keeping him sick and spurning the natural medicines that could help. And while he did find some aromatherapy to be helpful, some of the scents Naomi tried had the adverse effect of aggravating the nausea that always seemed to be lurking just below the surface. She was strong in her convictions and pleaded with him to give the oils a chance, sure that they would bring him relaxation and sleep, and growing irritated when he stubbornly locked himself in his room in an effort to avoid her. But her biggest frustration lay in her son’s complete turnaround where taste was concerned. She would spend hours in the kitchen concocting his favorite dishes, only to be apologetically told that he couldn’t eat them. Even the tongue which he used to love was pushed aside, much to Naomi’s chagrin.

But while she failed in this regard, Jim more than compensated. The chemotherapy had not only destroyed Blair’s appetite, it had also altered his sense of taste and smell somewhat. He confessed that meats seemed bitter and he often had a metallic taste in his mouth. Adding that on top of the mouth sores that he occasionally suffered, the number of palatable foods decreased dramatically since it left out anything spicy or salty or acidic or buttery or steaming or rough textured. But Ellison called upon his sentinel skills, imagining his own taste and smell at their highest levels and ruling out anything that he knew would be unappetizing. His natural, internal scale combined with his own culinary creativity allowed him to concoct countless bland, soft meals to supplement the scrambled eggs and macaroni and cheese on which his friend was subsisting.

And while Jim and Naomi waged their private wars over him, Blair busied himself with one of his own. As he recuperated from the fever he had a lot of time to think, and as he slowly regained strength he came to a decision. He was sick, it was true, and there was nothing he could do about that. But that didn’t mean he had to sit around like some helpless victim. He’d never been one to quit or give up, and he wasn’t going to start now. With a growing resolve, Blair vowed he was going to attack the disease and fight it with everything he had. Maybe he wasn’t going to be able to be brave all the time, but that didn’t mean he had to give into fear and doubt. He didn’t want to die, and as long as he was alive that meant that there was hope he could navigate the dark days ahead and come out the other side, all the stronger for it. And if destiny decreed that he wasn’t meant to win this battle, then at least he could say goodbye with the satisfaction of knowing that he’d lived life to the fullest in his remaining days.

So when the time came to begin his maintenance chemotherapy, Blair was ready. Every Monday Naomi drove him back to the hospital where he underwent a brief examination with Doctor Stern and then spent an hour in the oncology outpatient treatment room as an IV delivered the drugs into his veins. It was a lower dose than his initial treatment, but it was still strong enough to leave him sick and achy and tired for a day or two afterward. Hardly pleasant, but each week Blair refused to fear it, instead psyching himself up for it by firmly telling himself that it was one more blow to the cancer, and while the after effects would suck, he’d survived them fine before and he could do it again. After all, he’d believed in the power of positive attitude his whole life, so what better time to prove it?

The doctor and the nurses immediately noticed the change in their patient. When he had first been diagnosed and treatment began, Blair had felt decidedly “processed”. He’d been lost and disoriented within the complex system of medicines and tests and technicians and jargon and had consequently shut down in a sense. But he returned for round two with a new confidence, asking a myriad of questions and demanding clarification on things he didn’t understand. The weekly visits with Dr. Stern soon ceased to be “brief” as Blair, egged on by Jim, began to realize that although the doctor was busy, he was there to help him and he couldn’t do that without open communication. So Sandburg began candidly discussing with him all of his symptoms and concerns and complaints, no matter how minor, and he was pleased to discover his honesty had the result of his fears being allayed and his problems addressed to his satisfaction. Dr. Stern was a busy man, but he always made time for his patients and was sincere in his desire to give them the best of care. Likewise, the oncology nurses felt the same, but all three of them had seemingly developed a special fondness for Blair, who was unquestionably quite a charmer even when he was sick.

Since communication at the hospital had such great results, Blair decided to try it in his personal life as well. He started with Jim and Naomi, because he knew that they were profoundly affected by his illness, just as much as he was. His mother was easier since she practiced meditation and cleansing rituals that allowed her to process and release her emotions. Jim was trickier, since he was definitely not a share-your-feelings kind of guy and tended to sit on his worry and frustration and anger until he exploded. But Blair was patient and eventually got him to open up a little. It wasn’t an Oprah moment by any means, but at least he got his friend to understand it was all right to talk about things and that he shouldn’t feel guilty or selfish for feeling upset or afraid or weary or alone from time to time. Likewise, he made sure to let all of his friends know that he didn’t need to be treated like a fragile egg that would break with the slightest pressure. Once he made it clear that no one was disturbing him by calling or dropping by, and that it was cool to talk about his illness, most people responded eagerly. A few of his friends still kept their distance, obviously uncomfortable around him. Blair regretfully let them slip away without protest, at least for the time being. He hated to lose contact with them, but he realized that it wasn’t the time to be worrying about putting other people at ease or pretending nothing was wrong. There was enough negativity around him, and Blair didn’t want to add to it since his ultimate goal was to surround himself with enough positive energy to snuff it out.

He made sure to spend plenty of time engaging in activities that he enjoyed, passing long hours listening to music, playing his guitar, or raiding the local library for a wide variety of books. Naomi and Jim were repeatedly subjected to all manner of games and puzzles. They didn’t mind, but they both were glad when the odd friend dropped by and they could push the task of amusing Blair off on the unsuspecting soul. And as he firmly believed in the old adage that “laughter is the best medicine”, Sandburg became an almost nightly fixture in the comedy section of the video store down the street.

Of course, it wasn’t always fun and games. Blair had his days where his positive attitude flagged and the feelings of anger and fear and isolation crept up on him. He began seeing a therapist who helped him work through these feelings, and he also joined a weekly support group. Throughout his ordeal, Jim had always been a sympathetic ear. And Sandburg knew he’d gladly listen, but he couldn’t understand. It was something of a relief to be with people who were going through the same things that he was, and he could talk freely about things without scaring them or freaking anyone out. He was able to let his guard down, and he was able to share some management techniques that worked for him and get a few ideas in return.

And of course, no matter how positive the attitude or iron the will, there were still plenty of days where Blair felt sick. He dealt with his symptoms with meditation and breathing and tai chi, and Naomi was always there to help him with massage and acupressure and directed visualization exercises. Often this allowed him to distance himself from the discomforts and relax, but on the bad days he was crippled by nausea and plagued by aches, fatigued but made restless by pain, and the usual tricks held no relief for him. He just had to stoically ride it out, a task that his sentinel made a little easier. Jim developed an uncanny knack of knowing just what his friend needed and he was there to provide it, unbidden, whether it be a cool towel or a hot drink or a bag of lozenges. Blair didn’t know if it was these little comforts or just his friend’s calm, quiet concern, but everything somehow seemed easier to bear with his blessed protector watching over him.

Even on the good days when his symptoms were minimal Blair still didn’t feel what he would call healthy. He always felt run down, and the lack of energy and stamina bothered him a great deal. Sandburg hadn’t fooled himself into thinking he’d be up to running a marathon, but he’d never expected to be so exhausted after such routine, mundane tasks. So he began walking every afternoon that he felt up to it, rationalizing that if he could increase his physical condition he’d not only feel better but he’d be better equipped to tolerate his treatment and its effects. When he started he could hardly make it up the street and back, but as winter gave way to the green warmth of a late spring, he was thoroughly enjoying his strolls down by the bay.

Overall Dr. Stern was pleased with his progress, fully supporting Blair in his theory that a positive attitude would make a difference. He heartily encouraged the young man to be as active and involved as possible, secretly wishing that all of his patients could have the benefit of such a strong survival instinct. The only criticism he had was that Sandburg was not gaining weight. He repeatedly lectured Blair that he would have to learn to eat, even if he didn’t feel like it, as being underweight would only aggravate his fatigue and depression and would further lower his already sketchy resistance to disease. Blair knew this and he was contrite, especially when the kind doctor reminded him of the promise he’d made when he’d left the hospital. But it was a promise he was finding very hard to keep. The good intentions were there, but food simply had no appeal to him anymore. Forcing himself to eat just made him nauseous, which in turn made him even less willing to eat. It was a vicious cycle.

But one he knew he had to break. So he decided to tackle the problem like all the rest: head on and without fear. First, he sat Naomi down and had a long talk with her, telling her in no uncertain terms just what he could and couldn’t have. She assumed an injured air, but she compliantly stopped trying to force exotic dishes on her son and even altered her own diet so that he wouldn’t be bothered by strong cooking smells. Then it was up to mind over matter. Jim had his back, taking over the cooking chores and leaving Blair free to invoke his relaxation techniques before dinner. Ellison also made for a wonderful distraction, keeping up a nonstop dinner conversation so that Sandburg would have less chance to focus on the process. And after the meal, Blair retreated to his room for some controlled breathing. Usually if he made it through the first half hour then he was good to go. With this method, he was able to eat a real meal almost every night, instead of two or three times a week. Blair found he also tolerated liquid meal supplements very well and began adding two cans a day to his diet for extra nutrition. Before long he had gained back a few pounds and discovered he was much less sensitive to tastes and smells. His appetite was still lacking, but he was generally able to eat without having to distract himself first. Food held no real enjoyment for him, but it no longer caused him undue stress, either.

It was a relief for Jim to see his friend improve in this manner, and it made him happy that he had been able to help. There was so little he could do for Blair beside stand by and watch him suffer. It made him feel impotent, the worst feeling in the world as far as he was concerned. He was a man of action who jumped in and beat the bad guys and saved the day. Only this time he couldn’t. There was no tangible foe that he could chase and punch and intimidate into submission. No outlet for his anger, or his vengeance. Nothing for him to get his hands on so that he could bend it to his will and make things all right. And no matter how hard he tried, he was helpless to save someone he loved.

But oddly, Blair didn’t seem to share the same reservations. Jim saw it in his face often enough, every time he did what he could to care for his friend. Little gestures.. Meaningless. Nothing. And yet Blair never failed to reward him with a smile, the light of gratitude shining from his blue eyes. Ellison didn’t understand it. But then one day he started to get an idea.

As he was leaving work, Rafe and Brown stopped him in the hall and informed him that they were going out later to have a drink and shoot some pool, and they wanted to invite him and Sandburg to go along. It sounded good to Jim and he promised to run the idea by his friend. But when he got back to the loft he found Naomi there alone.

"Where's Blair?" he asked as he hung up his coat.

"He hasn't come back yet."

"Come back from where?" Ellison demanded.

"From his walk," Naomi told him absently, her attentions focused on the tarot cards spread out on the table before her.

"It's almost dark," the detective pointed out, glancing out the window for confirmation. Blair normally left early in the afternoon and was always back by dinner time. Jim’s growing concern was tempered by his increasing frustration, for Ms. Sandburg knew this as well as he did. “What time did he go?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, frowning slightly as she considered it. "You know I don't wear a watch."

"Damn it, Naomi," he growled, grabbing his jacket from the hook and slipping it back on. But he held his ready diatribe back as he let himself out of the loft, slamming the door behind him so hard that the walls shook. It just would have been a waste of time to chastize her for being her usual clueless self when any other rational human being would have gone looking for a sick man that never made it back home. He had more important things to worry about, like finding Blair.

Although it would have been a more direct route to walk to the bay, following the path that Sandburg would have taken, Jim hopped into the truck and drove down to the water, parking at the pier closest to the stretch of sand where he knew his friend liked to walk. The sun had set, the murky twilight lying thick and heavy over the bay, but it was no great feat for the sentinel to spy his guide sitting alone on a bench overlooking the water.

"Hey," he greeted as he trotted up to where the younger man was perched. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Blair replied softly, giving him a faint smile. "Just tired. Worried about me, were you?"

"Well, when I got home and you weren't back yet..." Ellison trailed off his explanation as he took a good look at his friend and saw the bone weariness reflected in his blue eyes. "How long have you been out here?"

"All afternoon," Sandburg admitted, the smile leaving his face. "I got this far, and then all of a sudden I just couldn't go anymore. I thought if I sat here and rested for awhile I'd be ok, but..."

"I've got the truck over at the pier," Jim told him. "Can you make it that far?"

"Yeah," Blair answered, not entirely sure that he could but determined to try. "I can make it."

The sentinel helped him up and then slipped out of his coat to drape it over his guide's shoulders. It had been a pleasant afternoon but the breeze blowing in off the bay was brisk, especially without the warm sun to take the chill off. Blair had always been one to feel the cold, but he seemed to feel it especially acutely after he had gotten sick so it wasn't hard for Ellison to decide he could brave the wind for a little while if it eased his friend's shivering.

It was slow going, but as he promised Sandburg made it to the truck on his own, although it took him two tries to climb up into the cab. The detective hopped behind the wheel and cranked the heat, even though he knew their journey would be through before it really had a chance to take effect. A few short blocks later they were back at Prospect Place. Ellison got out of the truck and started toward the building, but he paused by the front of the vehicle as he realized his roommate was not following. Blair had gotten the door open, but he remained sitting in the passenger seat, finally looking up to meet his friend's concerned gaze.

"Jim, can you help me?" he asked quietly.

The sentinel was instantly at his side, helping him climb down out of the truck and wrapping an arm around his waist to support him as they walked into the building.

"It's probably just another side effect of the chemo," Ellison told him, trying to sound positive as they waited for the elevator. "But let's get you inside and then I'll call Dr. Stern."

"No, don't call him tonight," Sandburg argued, clinging to the hand rail in the elevator in an attempt to take some of the weight off his friend. "I just want to hit the sack, man. I'll call him tomorrow if I still feel like this in the morning."

Jim wasn't convinced, but his first priority was getting his friend inside the loft and he let the matter drop until that goal was accomplished. But as soon as they walked in the door Naomi accosted them, crooning over her son and insisting on putting him straight to bed. She hovered over him for the rest of the evening, running between his room and the kitchen as she brewed hot teas and soup for him. The whole spectacle turned Ellison's stomach. Her fussing was ridiculous to begin with, but coming on top of her not even having the wherewithal to realize her son was in trouble was more than he could stand. So when Brown called from the bar and reminded him of the evening’s plans he was tempted to join his fellow detectives. But he declined, wanting to stay close to home in case Blair needed him even though he stayed clear of the drama, content to let Ms. Sandburg deal with her stubborn son. Although he knew nothing would come of it. Even if she encouraged him to call the doctor, which he figured she wouldn't, Blair probably wouldn't have listened to her anymore than he listened to anyone else.

Ellison passed the evening in front of the tv since he had it all to himself for a change. After the news was over he got ready for bed, but before he turned in for the night he took the opportunity while Naomi was in the kitchen to slip into his friend's room.

"You doing all right, Chief?"

"I'm ok," Blair assured him. "Just tired." He grinned a little and sat up slightly. "Actually, that's a colossal understatement. I've never felt anything like this, Jim. It's like my body's made of lead and I just don't have the energy to move it anymore."

"Well I do," Ellison told him quietly from the doorway. "So don't be afraid to call on me if you need anything."

"I promise," Sandburg vowed, love shining from his eyes.

"Good. Now promise me you're going to call the doctor first thing tomorrow."

"Yeah, I promise that, too," Blair said with another grin.

"All right." Jim nodded and started to leave, but he turned back as his friend called his name.

"I knew you'd come looking for me today," Sandburg whispered. "Thanks."

The sentinel was touched by his guide's unwavering faith in him, wondering what he had ever done to deserve it. But as he thought back over their association, he came to the realization that he had always gone after his partner. True, sometimes it had been too little, too late, but that primal instinct had always been there. And a warmth surged through him to finally understand that Blair had always known it, and had taken comfort from it.

"I'll always come looking for you, Chief," he said softly. "Because I wouldn't know what to do without you."

Ellison was uncharacteristically unfocused, finding that he had to read the report in front of him several times before he was able to comprehend anything. He tossed the file onto his desk with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he checked his watch. It was hard for him to concentrate while he was stuck waiting for word on his friend and he wondered if he shouldn’t have called in and taken Sandburg to the doctor himself. Picking up the report again, he took a deep breath and willed himself to focus, telling himself that he was being silly. This weakness that had come over his friend, as intense as it had been, was most certainly just another side effect of the drugs and was probably nothing serious. But as his attentions wandered off once more, Jim realized that with the disease his partner was battling, everything was serious. One small blow could be all it took to start an avalanche that would bury his guide so deep he could never climb out.

Early in the afternoon Naomi finally called and put him out of his misery. She reported that Blair was suffering from anemia and that they’d kept him in the hospital all morning for blood transfusions, but he’d been released and they were back at the loft. Jim promised he’d stop and pick up the latest prescription on his way home and hung up, feeling somewhat better but still not happy that his friend now had one more hurdle to deal with.

With Simon’s permission he bailed a little early and headed home after a quick stop at the drug store. As he parked and got out of the truck, Jim pulled his light jacket tighter around his chest as a blast of air hit him. It had been sunny and warm earlier, but thick clouds had begun to roll in, bringing with them a cold wind and dropping the temperature significantly. He hurried inside, but as he entered the loft he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t any warmer. The balcony doors were wide open, the shades fluttering slightly as the chill wind blew in. He immediately went to close and latch them, shivering a bit as he took off his jacket and hung it up next to the front door. He wasted a perfectly good glare on Naomi, who was perched on the floor, deep in meditation and seemingly oblivious to the world around her, and then he went to check on Sandburg. The french doors were open and Blair was sleeping soundly, but Ellison scowled as he took in the chill in the room.

“What the hell goes through her head?” he muttered under his breath as he pulled the blankets up around his friend, tucking them carefully around his bare head. Sandburg stirred slightly but he didn’t wake up. The sentinel left to go and start the fire and crank the heat to warm up the loft, then he returned to his guide’s room and gently woke him.

“You need to take one of these, Chief,” he said softly, shaking a pill out of the bottle he pulled from his pocket. “Fresh from the drugstore. Steve told me one more prescription and you win your own pharmacy. Come on, sit up.”

Blair pushed himself up on one elbow and dutifully swallowed the pill with a gulp of water. He handed the glass back to his roommate and collapsed onto his pillow, burrowing down under the blankets.

“Are you warm enough?” Jim asked him, tucking him in again.

“I’ll be ok,” came the muffled reply.

Ellison wasn’t convinced and went back out into the living room, grabbing the heavy afghan off the back of the couch and bringing it in to spread over his friend.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I think you should try and eat something,” the sentinel persisted.

“Maybe a little later, ok?” Blair whispered, peeking out from the blankets.

“All right,” Jim relented, seeing the exhaustion in his face and figuring that at the moment he needed rest more than anything else. “If you need anything, give a yell.”

Sandburg nodded and closed his eyes and Ellison left him to sleep, going back out and planting himself in the chair in front of Naomi. He was sorely tempted to give her a good nudge, but he didn’t understand this trance thing that she did and he didn’t know if knocking her back to reality would have any detrimental effects or not. Not that he really cared, but Blair would never forgive him. So he chose to wait patiently, hoping that wherever she was she would feel his eyes boring into her and cut her trip short.

She may have, for Naomi woke up soon after he sat down. And Jim didn’t hesitate, diving in as soon as she began to stretch.

“We need to have a little chat,” he said firmly. “A long overdue one.”

“What about?” she asked defensively, picking up his hostile tone.

“Look, I don’t care what you do with your personal life,” he began, rising and pacing restlessly across the room. “But when your self absorption starts hurting Blair...”

“What are you talking about?” Naomi interrupted indignantly. “I would never do anything to hurt Blair!”

“So you didn’t turn this place into a meat locker?” Ellison barked, striding off into the kitchen.

“Jim, I have no idea...”

“I came home from work and the doors were open,” he clarified, waving toward the balcony. “It was freezing in here. You think a nice bout of pneumonia is what he needs right now?”

Naomi rose gracefully to her feet, realizing that she had been under longer than she had planned and that the temperature outside must have fallen significantly without her knowledge.

“I’m sorry,” she stated curtly. “I didn’t mean to stay down so long. I’m just having some trouble processing this.”

“This is what I’m talking about, Naomi,” Jim said in exasperation. “You never mean it. But sorry isn’t good enough this time. Blair has no immune system. He can’t afford to get chilled.”

“It was an accident,” she insisted.

“One that could kill him,” Ellison shot back. “You know, maybe you’d have better luck ‘processing’ what your son is going through if you’d spend a little time taking care of him instead of yourself.”

“You have no right to talk to me like that,” Naomi hissed, moving forward to face off with him across the island. “I’ve spent half my life taking care of that boy, and we were managing just fine long before you came along.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jim said sarcastically. “You were ‘great friends’. Well, he doesn’t need another friend now, Naomi. He needs a mother.”

She was quiet for several moments, and when she spoke she was perfectly composed, apart from the flash of anger in her eyes as she met his gaze and held it.

“I’m sorry if I don’t fit into your Norman Rockwell view of the world, Jim. But I know who I am, and I’ve never apologized to anyone for it and I’m certainly not going to start with you. You’re entitled to your opinion and you can think whatever you want about me. But don’t you dare start thinking that I don’t love my son, because I do.”

The sentinel muttered something under his breath, but she heard him.

“And I am letting that go, because I know that you love him, too.” Naomi turned and moved across the room to take her coat off the rack by the door. Since she didn’t have a room to retreat to and Ellison obviously wasn’t going to do the dignified thing and go upstairs, she decided to do the next best thing in order to give them each some space to cool down. “I’m going out for a little while. If my son wakes up, tell him that I’ll be back in an hour and I’ll ‘take care’ of him then.” Naomi slipped into her coat and started out the door, but she paused with her hand on the knob and turned back toward Jim. “You know, maybe I haven’t always been the perfect mother and maybe I’ve made mistakes. And yes, maybe I haven’t always been there for Blair. But I have never, ever turned my back on him. You can’t say the same.”

Ellison told himself that he was going to take the high road and not lower himself to respond to her words. But his jaw clenched in anger, for he knew that the real reason he didn’t go running down the hallway after her to refute her was because he couldn’t. Not honestly, anyway. With a heavy sigh, Jim scrubbed his hands over his face and ran them through his short hair, stuffing away the feelings of guilt and regret that rose up within him. What they’d gone through in the past...was in the past. And he was doing what he could to make up for it now. What he should have been doing all along.

Glancing at the refrigerator, Jim checked the schedule that hung on the door and added the new prescription to the list with a marker he pulled out of a drawer. He doubted Blair would be getting up any time during the course of the evening, so he would have to wake him soon and give him his nightly buffet of pills. Opening the fridge, the sentinel examined the contents, deciding to go ahead and make dinner in the hopes that he could convince his friend to eat something. And since he was hungry, he figured he’d make enough for two. Naomi, when she showed up, could ‘take care’ of herself.

Blair stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, man, what are you doing out here? You’re missing the cake.” He held up the paper plate in his hands as evidence of his statement.

Jim sighed, leaning his head back to rest against the wall. Connor had cornered him a week ago, declaring that they couldn’t let Sandy’s thirty-first birthday pass by unnoticed and that everyone from the MCU was willing to chip in and rent a banquet hall in order to throw him a proper bash. But Ellison had hedged, not sure as to whether his friend would be up to such an event. The anemia had left Blair so weak he could scarcely climb out of bed, and although he hadn’t complained, the sentinel knew he was having difficulty breathing as well. It had taken repeated blood transfusions in combination with the new medicine, but he eventually began to show improvement and started regaining his strength. He was recovering well, but Jim didn’t think he was quite up to what Megan had in mind, although he promised her he’d talk it over with his friend.

In the end, they decided a quiet party at the loft would be best. A low key affair with the MCU gang and a few other friends. However, things didn’t remain low key for long. The crowd was small, but they were a spirited, fun-loving bunch. Adding alcohol into the mix only fueled the fire. The shindig was not out of control by any means, but it was swinging enough to bother Ellison, who found himself not remotely in the party mood. He wanted to help his friend celebrate the milestone of another year of his life, but the proceedings were leaving him strangely depressed. So he retreated to the gloom of the hallway, needing a minute away from the music and chatter and laughter and festive decorations... and Naomi, who was not helping his mood as she vivaciously flirted her way through the guests, unquestionably charming them all as she acted every inch the doting mom. But he couldn’t tell that to Blair, so he lied.

“I just needed a minute to clear my head. I was starting to get sensory overload in there.”

Blair frowned in concern and dropped down to sit beside him.

“Which senses are acting up?” he asked, studying his friend thoughtfully.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Blair protested. “Come on, Jim, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“Sandburg, I’m fine,” Ellison insisted. “I just needed it quiet for a second to center myself, but I’m fine now.”

He could see that his guide didn’t believe him.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Blair said quietly. “I know we haven’t been keeping up with things like we should...”

“I think you’ve had other things to worry about,” the sentinel drawled, rolling his eyes in disbelief that his partner could actually be feeling guilty that he hadn’t had the time or energy to develop and execute new sensory exercises. And he was left wishing he’d just told him the truth behind his isolation, for in hind sight it probably would have gone over better than this. It was time for some major redirection. “And you aren’t going to start worrying about this tonight at your own party. Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“You holding up ok?”

“Yes,” Blair answered with an indulgent sigh, for his friend had made him repeatedly promise not to overdo it. “I’m fine.”

“Did you eat something?”

Sandburg took up a scoop of the melting ice cream from the plate in his lap and shoved it into his mouth before answering in the affirmative. Ellison shook his head, conceding that since it was Blair’s birthday he supposed he could give him a break from the incessant nagging. He got to his feet and helped his friend do the same.

“Come on, we’re missing all the fun out here.”

“Hey, Jim.” Blair looked up and down the empty hallway and leaned in confidentially toward his friend. “This really is a great party and all, but how about a stripper for next year?”

Ellison rested a hand on his roommate’s back, steering him into the loft with a grin. He knew Sandburg was only joking about the stripper, but he also knew that he was deadly serious about next year. And that thought helped to lighten his mood considerably. Whatever was in their past was in their past. And whatever the future held would come in time. But at that moment, things were good. Blair was right there beside him, alive and happy. And that alone was reason enough to celebrate.

“It’s for you.”

Ellison passed the phone off to his roommate and moved back to the stove, taking the heavy pot of boiling water off the burner and dumping the steaming pasta into the strainer in the sink. He wasn’t paying attention to Sandburg’s conversation, but when the younger man hung up the phone and came over to lean against the island he could tell by the look on his face that something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“Professor Abrams died,” Blair told him softly.

“Who’s that?”

“He was in the anthropology department. I used to work for him as a research assistant when I was an undergrad.”

“I’m sorry, Chief,” Jim said, giving him a sympathetic look. “How did it happen?”

“Stroke.”

Ellison was distracted by the ping of a timer, and he turned to grab a mitt to retrieve the tray of bread from the oven.

“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” he announced as he looked up and saw his friend heading for his room.

“Thanks, Jim, but I’m not hungry.”

“Blair...” the detective threatened, a warning note in his voice.

“Jim, please,” Sandburg murmured, shooting him an imploring gaze. “Not now, ok?”

Ellison saw that his friend was upset and he relented with a small nod before turning back to his meal preparations, not bothered by the fact that his dinner plans were seemingly going to waste. By this point, he was used to eating alone.

During the course of the past few months, Blair had acquired a vast array of bandanas in every color of the rainbow. He laid them out on his bed, studying them thoughtfully and wondering if it would be more tasteful to go without. Dr. Stern had discouraged him from attending the professor’s funeral, which was bound to be packed with people from Rainier as the old man had been well liked and highly regarded. But Blair wanted to pay his respects, so he decided to drop by one of the viewings, figuring that it wouldn’t be very crowded if he went early and didn’t stay. However, he was still likely to run into someone he knew from the university, so realized he should probably cover up. He’d quickly gotten over being self-conscious about his appearance, but he knew from experience that it was less uncomfortable for other people to deal with him when they weren’t trying to avoid staring at his bald scalp. Not that a thin piece of fabric could hide that fact that he was sick, but it at least muted the ravages of the chemo a little so he wasn’t immediately screaming “cancer” at everyone. Besides, Sandburg thought with a grin as he selected a dark blue silk bandana, his most dignified one, a man who had lived in khakis and flannel shirts probably wasn’t going to be too judgmental. Tying the bandana securely around his bare head, he glanced quickly into the mirror before leaving his room, surprised to find Jim waiting for him by the door.

“What’s going on?” he asked, nodding at his roommate’s formal dress.

“I thought maybe I’d go over there with you,” Ellison replied casually.

“Why?” Blair demanded. “You didn’t even know him.”

“I know,” the detective hedged. “But you didn’t know Jack Pendergrast, either, and you went to his funeral. This guy obviously meant a lot to you and I’d like to pay my respects to that. And, I was just thinking you might want some company. Moral support or something.” When the younger man didn’t speak, Jim was quick to reassure him. “But it’s ok. I mean, I understand if you’d rather be alone...”

“No,” Sandburg said quietly. He suspected that his friend was less concerned with moral support than he was with physical, as he was still having periodic bouts of weakness and the sentinel couldn’t quite hide his worry whenever his guide set out alone. But it didn’t matter. He was glad of the support, whatever the motivation behind it. “I could use some company.”

“Then let’s go,” Ellison told him, clapping him on the shoulder as he handed over his jacket.

As Blair had anticipated, the funeral parlor was empty except for a scant handful of mourners. He didn’t recognize them, but not long after he and Jim had arrived a small group from Rainier wandered in. They greeted him warmly and Sandburg was happy to make small talk. But after a few minutes of chatting he excused himself and went to stand before the casket. He said his private farewells to one of his former mentors and then he bid his colleagues goodbye as he caught Jim’s eye and nodded toward the door.

“You doing ok?” the sentinel asked, looking his guide over critically as they headed toward the truck.

“Yeah,” Blair murmured distractedly.

“Come on,” Ellison said as he put an arm around his friend’s shoulders, thinking that he was tired. “Let’s get you home.”

“Actually, Jim, I was wondering if you wanted to go out for coffee.”

“Sure,” the detective agreed, a bit surprised. “If you’re up to it.”

“I’m up to it,” Sandburg assured him as he hopped into the truck.

Ellison shrugged as he climbed into the driver’s seat, stealing another glance at his friend as he fired up the ignition. He knew Blair well enough to know something was wrong. And if he wasn’t tired, that meant something was on his mind. Which meant the coffee was a diversion, to trap him there and force him to talk about whatever it was. Which meant it was probably something he wasn’t going to like.

They went to the small coffee shop that they used to frequent on a regular basis and ordered coffee and donuts. Blair had a muffin as he waited for his friend to get his fill of glazed buttermilk, wanting to make sure he was at least slightly placated before he dropped the bomb.

“I’ve been thinking about something, Jim.”

Ellison fixed a calm gaze on him, ready for whatever was coming.

“About what?”

“Death,” Blair replied, looking him straight in the eye, not surprised when the detective looked quickly away. “Going to this funeral has just made me think about my own.”

“You are not going to die, Chief,” the sentinel said tightly.

“Everyone dies, Jim,” Sandburg reminded him gently, well aware that the subject was causing his friend much discomfort. But it was one he was going to have to face. “I’m no exception. Maybe I’m not going to die tomorrow, and maybe not from cancer. But someday it will happen.”

“Where are you going with this?” Ellison asked in a strained voice.

“I never really used to think about it,” Blair continued. “But when I got sick... well, it became a reality. And if the worst should happen...”

“It’s not going to happen,” Jim growled. “You’re going to be fine.”

“Just in case,” the younger man explained, giving his friend an indulgent grin. “If the cancer does get the best of me...”

“I don’t think you should be talking like this,” the detective commanded harshly.

“Jim, this is important,” Blair told him sternly. “So just shut up and listen, would you?”

The sentinel was taken aback slightly by his friend’s tone but he acquiesced, fixing blazing eyes on his guide and nodding to show he was listening, his jaw clenched tight.

“Naomi and I have never seen eye to eye on the whole death and afterlife thing,” Sandburg explained. “She’s pretty far off the whole traditional path. Not that I’m necessarily traditional, but I’m not on her level, either. I guess I’m probably somewhere in the middle. Anyway, she means well, but I don’t trust her to carry out my last requests after I’m gone.”

“Different views aside, you really don’t think she’d follow your wishes?” Ellison asked, a bit incredulously. He admittedly didn’t have the highest opinion of Naomi, but he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that she would at least be unselfish enough to see to her son’s final requests.

“She kind of has a long history of doing what she thinks is best for me, even if it’s not what I want,” Blair related. “She thinks that I’ll thank her for it in the end. So I’d rather leave it all up to someone that I trust to do it the way I want.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I want to give you power of attorney,” Sandburg told him earnestly. “Make it legal, so no one can give you any crap about anything. And this way, if I get sicker and it comes to the point where certain decisions have to be made...”

“I don’t know if I can make them, Chief,” the detective whispered.

“Yes, you can,” Blair argued confidently. “Because I’m going to tell you what I want. Basically you’ll just be acting as my voice when I don’t have one.” He fell silent, studying his friend and feeling a stab of sympathy as he glimpsed the tortured look in his sentinel’s eyes. The subject was really tearing him up. “Look, Jim, if you’d rather not do this...”

“No,” Ellison interrupted, clearing his throat before continuing. “No, I’d be proud to do it.”

“Good,” Sandburg said softly. “Because I really do trust you, man. And I know this isn’t something you want to discuss, but we’ve never talked about this stuff and it’s way past due. Especially in light of my current condition. So, are you ready to hear what I want?”

Jim dropped his head, rubbing a hand uncomfortably over his neck. Then he sighed and looked up at his friend, giving him a small grin.

“I think I’m going to need another doughnut first.”

It was a mild summer in Cascade, and Blair especially appreciated and enjoyed the many warm, sunny days. He was doing better, often having several consecutive days where he felt almost good. The weekly chemotherapy still left him sick for a day or two, but the side effects became less debilitating and he was finding the whole process much easier to tolerate. And since cold and flu season had passed, some of the restrictions on his activities were lifted. He was still cautioned against subjecting himself to confined areas with dense groups of people, but he was given the all clear to hit the movies, which was something he had been missing a lot. While he’d lost a few friends that couldn’t seem to come to grips with his disease, most of the people in his circle had been wonderfully supportive and he never had any trouble finding someone to accompany him on whatever outing struck his fancy.

Jim encouraged his friend as he set out to reclaim his life, glad to see him showing such improvement and independence. A sentiment that Naomi didn’t seem to share. She insisted on smothering her son, which in and of itself was sickening. But Blair was eating it up, which annoyed Ellison even more. Although he had to admit he couldn’t really blame him. His own mother had all but abandoned him and Steven when they were little, and Jim knew that if he were going through what Blair went through and she dropped in for some TLC... Well, he would probably eat it up, too. But it still bothered him to see. Naomi also began doing little things that she knew would inflame the anal retentive side of Ellison’s personality, ostensibly on purpose, as if she were trying to provoke him into venting his anger. It became nearly impossible for him to keep up the pleasant facade around her so he began withdrawing, throwing himself into his work and spending evenings at the gym or out with the guys or just holed up in the loft. He hoped that Blair would be busy with his newly rediscovered social life and wouldn’t notice, but he should have known better.

One afternoon Ellison arrived home from work and entered the building, hitting the button for the elevator. But as the door opened, he was surprised to see Naomi inside. She nodded a curt greeting to him as she exited and he couldn’t help noticing the bag over her shoulder as she stepped past him.

“Going somewhere?” he inquired as he entered the elevator.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she told him loftily. “I’m just visiting a friend for the night.”

“Pity,” the detective muttered under his breath, punching the button for the third floor. After the brief ride he got out and entered the loft. Blair was in the kitchen, humming to himself as he cut thin slices from a wedge of cheese, and the sight of his friend displaying such energy and enthusiasm made the sentinel smile. “I just ran into your mom downstairs,” he relayed as he hung up his coat. “She have a hot date tonight or something?” Jim supposed it was too much to hope for, that Naomi would fall in love and settle down... away from him. But, everyone was entitled to their dreams.

“Actually, I asked her if she could make herself scarce tonight,” Sandburg confessed.

“Getting rid of your mom?” Ellison teased, slipping past his roommate to get to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “Then you must be the one with the hot date.”

“Sort of,” Blair grinned, piling the stack of cheese on a small plate and adding a handful of crackers.

“Who’s the lucky girl?”

“You are.”

“What are you talking about?” the detective demanded.

“Well,” the younger man hedged, a bit embarrassed. “I just thought that maybe we could have a kind of guy’s night. I hardly ever see you anymore, and when I do all we talk about is how I’m feeling and test results and doctor visits. So I got a couple movies and I figured tonight we could get a pizza and just hang out, like we used to. Without either of us mentioning the “C” word.” He looked up with a grin, which quickly faded as a thought occurred to him. “Unless you already have plans. I didn’t mean to...”

“No, I don’t have any plans,” Jim quickly assured him. It happened to be the truth, but he knew he would have given the same answer even if he had a prior commitment.

“Great,” Sandburg grinned again, turning and pulling a few items out of the fridge. “Then go ahead and order the pizza and I’ll finish the dip.”

The sentinel did as his guide commanded, and then he offered to help but Blair assured him there was nothing for him to do. He had prepared a small buffet of snacks and appetizers and they arranged the spread on the coffee table as they made themselves comfortable in the living room. The pizza arrived relatively quickly and they made room for the boxes on the crowded table and dove in. Jim was happy to see his guide eating so well, although he did have to wonder if his friend was really getting his appetite back or if it was just a stealth tactic to avoid any more nagging.

“You know, it’s ironic,” Sandburg mused, helping himself to a second slice. “I’ve spent my adult life eating healthy. You know, whole grains, fiber, fruits and veggies, just like you’re supposed to. Then I get sick, and what do they tell me to eat? Fat and starch.”

“That’s because you’ve been listening to the wrong people, Chief,” Jim told him smugly. “I could have told you fat and starch were the way to go all along.”

“I’ll remember that during your angioplasty,” Blair said wryly.

“Do you ever think about that, though?” Ellison asked, sobering. “I mean, you’re right. You eat healthy and do the all natural thing. You take better care of yourself than most people do. So don’t you ever ask yourself why this happened to you?”

“What’s the point of asking that?” Sandburg shrugged. “I mean, why anybody?”

“I’ve asked it plenty,” the sentinel confessed. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Nobody deserves this, Jim,” Blair pointed out. “But it’s not like it’s some form of punishment. That’s not why I got sick. Sometimes shit just happens.”

“Nothing’s random,” the sentinel argued, voicing one of his friend’s favorite theories. “Isn’t that what you tell me? Everything has a reason. So what’s the story here? Why this, and why you?”

“I don’t know,” the younger man said slowly, giving the matter serious thought. “Maybe the answer hasn’t presented itself yet. Or maybe it was there, but I just wasn’t looking for it.”

“Well why don’t you ask Naomi to check your tea leaves and see if she can find the answer there for you?”

Blair grinned, picking up on the carefully concealed derision in his roommate’s light tone.

“Listen, man, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I know it’s been driving you nuts having my mom here all this time...”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Come on, Jim. You put up a good front, but I’m not stupid. You go tense every time you have to be around her for more than two minutes.” Sandburg held up a hand, quick to reassure his friend as he started to squirm. “Look, it’s ok. I’m well aware that Naomi can be a pain in the ass. And you are both set in your very opposite ways, no offense. So it’s only natural that you’d be butting heads. But I just want you to know that I appreciate the effort you’ve been making to keep the peace. It really means a lot to me.”

“It hasn’t been that bad,” Ellison said generously, before giving his friend a wicked grin. “But you owe me big time.”

“I really never thought she’d hang around this long,” Blair told him, reaching for his water bottle. “I don’t think she’s been in one place for more than a month or two for years. It makes her crazy to be confined.”

“Well, I guess she just couldn’t let you go through this alone,” Jim allowed.

“But I’m not alone,” Sandburg said softly, glancing over at his friend. “You were there for me from the start of this, Jim. I haven’t forgotten that.” He fell silent, and the sentinel saw a shadow come over his face as his eyes took on a faraway look.

“What is it?”

“I was just thinking about Professor Abrams.”

“What about him?”

“That stroke that killed him was his second one,” Blair explained, busying himself brushing away nonexistent crumbs from his lap. “He had the first one about five years ago and it left him pretty messed up. He never married or had kids, and he didn’t have any other family so he ended up in a nursing home. I went to visit him there a few times...” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly and blinking hard to fight back the sudden moisture in his eyes. “It was so sad, Jim. He was a great guy, and that’s how he ended up. Stuck in that miserable place, all alone with no one who cared about him. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately and I know that.. Well, the same thing could have easily happened to me. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have ended up in a place just like that.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. What about Naomi?”

“She’s been really great, but she’s also had you to influence her. I don’t know if she could handle the responsibility of being the sole caretaker for someone. She hates being tied down even more than being confined. I think she would have cracked long before now if you hadn’t been sharing the load.”

“Chief, you have lots of friends who...”

“Who what?” Blair interrupted. “Who would be willing to put their lives on hold for an indeterminate amount of time to take care of a chronically ill person? As awesome as my friends are, I only have one that’s that self-sacrificing.” Sandburg shifted slightly in his chair, turning his face away as his vision blurred even more. “Truth is, Jim, you never even hesitated. You knew this was going to be a long, hard road, but there was never any question about you walking it with me. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for that.”

“You don’t have to, Chief,” Ellison said quietly. “Because I’ve been down a few hard roads of my own, and you’ve been right there beside me every step of the way. That’s what friends do, right? Keep each other company on the journey.”

Blair was incapable of answering, and he couldn’t even look at his friend for fear of losing the tenuous hold he had on his control. But he slowly reached a hand out, feeling it immediately enveloped in a warm grasp.

“You don’t need to worry about becoming Professor Abrams,” Jim whispered to him. “Because you have a lot of people who care about you very much. Two right here under this roof.”

“I know,” Blair finally said, brushing a quick hand over his eyes before he glanced back at his friend. “I’m sorry, man. It was my rule not to talk about any of this stuff tonight, and here I go getting all heavy.”

“Well, I think we can still manage to salvage some fun out of the evening,” Ellison told him with a fond grin as he got to his feet. “What movies did you get?” He moved over to where the cassettes were resting on top of the tv and read the titles. “Young Frankenstein and Spaceballs. What, no Blazing Saddles?”

“It was out.”

“Well, which do you want first?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Blair replied as he drew his knees up under him and made himself more comfortable in his chair.

Jim grinned and cracked open one of the boxes, extricating the tape and sliding it into the VCR.

“Then I guess I’m putting on the ritz.”

Ellison had discovered long ago that a rubber band, shot just right, would stick to the ceiling. He aimed carefully and let another one fly, grinning as it landed and held fast, joining the army of its brothers on the tiled battlefield. The sheer number of them above his head was in direct proportion to the level of his boredom. He’d just wrapped up his latest homicide case, which meant his name floated back to the bottom of the catching list. Which meant he probably had a few days of desk duty until he was assigned to something else. Not that he could really complain. A slow period meant that there weren’t any murders or robberies or major drug deals going down in his city, and that was something he could definitely get behind. But the down time did make his job tedious, which was why he needed to find less noble pursuits to while away the afternoon. Especially beautiful afternoons like this one, that made concentrating on paperwork a near impossibility.

A small commotion in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention, and he looked over to see that Connor had knocked a stack of files off her desk. With a muttered bit of gibberish that he assumed was some form of Australian swearing, she moved around in front of her desk and bent over to collect the scattered papers. Jim’s head began to swivel back and forth between the devil and the angel that had suddenly appeared on his shoulders. The angel lectured him sternly that he was in a professional environment and that he should act his age and take the road of maturity. But the devil drowned out his adversary, yelling that it was too good an opportunity to pass up. With a decidedly juvenile grin, the detective reached for another rubber band, stretching it carefully over his thumb as he sighted the distance and took aim at the inspector’s butt.

The shrill ringing of the phone startled him and he jerked slightly as he released. His missile veered off to the left, striking the desk instead of the intended target. Megan whirled around, fully understanding what he’d been trying to do, but Jim quickly snatched up the phone in an attempt to circumvent her wrath until he could figure out how to talk his way into the clear.

“Ellison.” As he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, the detective’s face darkened slightly and he shook his head in annoyance. “Ok, I’ll be right there.”

“What’s wrong?” Connor asked, the diatribe she’d been prepared to make dying away as she took in the look on his face. “Is it Sandy?”

“Yeah,” Jim answered shortly as he hung up the phone. He got to his feet, glancing at their captain’s office which was temporarily vacant due to Bank’s meeting downtown. “Do me a favor, would you? When Simon gets back, tell him I had to go and I’ll call him later, all right?”

“Sure,” Megan agreed, although the sentinel hadn’t waited around for her confirmation.

Ellison took the stairs down to the garage and climbed into his truck, starting it up and pulling out into the street. The afternoon traffic was heavy, but moving steadily, and in twenty minutes he was pulling into the hospital parking lot. He entered the building and headed up to the oncology unit, but he failed to spot his friend in the treatment room. There was one familiar face, the nurse who had called him. He greeted Tara warmly and she led him down the corridor to a small room where Blair was curled up in a ball of misery.

“Hey, Jim,” he greeted weakly as they came in. “Sorry about this, man. I know you were probably busy...”

“Don’t worry about that,” the sentinel replied softly, taking in the wan appearance of his guide. “You ready to go home?”

Sandburg nodded in relief and sat up, taking the light jacket that Tara handed him from the end of the bed. Even summer’s warmth couldn’t ward off the chills of the chemo, and even on a bright sunny day he found he still needed an extra layer. He slipped the jacket on and carefully slid off the bed, and Ellison automatically took his arm to steady him. They bid farewell to the kind nurse and then the detective escorted his friend down to the elevator and out of the hospital.

“Wait here a second, ok?” Jim said, sitting Blair down on a bench outside the entrance. “I’ll bring the truck around.”

He jogged across the parking lot, starting the truck and driving it around to the front of the hospital. Sandburg climbed in slowly, fastening his seatbelt as they pulled away from the curb. Ellison glanced at him hunched in the seat beside him as he maneuvered back into the afternoon traffic.

“Now, do you want to tell me what the hell you were doing taking the bus to chemo?” he demanded.

“Yntana Shekni’s giving a lecture on Ayurveda in Seattle tonight.”

“Dare I even ask what you’re talking about?”

“Ayurveda. It’s an ancient healing system that revolves around the five Elements and the three doshas. Supposed to be able to prolong life. Very big in India, but it’s just starting to catch on in the West. And Yntana Shekni is an expert in the art of Ayurveda.”

“An opportunity Naomi just couldn’t pass up,” Ellison muttered, unable to completely hold back the sarcasm in his voice.

“Jim, don’t,” Blair sighed, turning to press his forehead against the window. “It is a great opportunity. These seminars are small and they fill up fast. They can be almost impossible to get into. Naomi got the call this morning from a friend of hers that had an extra ticket. My last few treatments haven’t been that bad, and last week I hardly felt sick at all, so I told her to take my car and go. It’s just for the night. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

The younger man’s explanation was punctuated by a low moan that he couldn’t quite bite back and the detective gave him a sympathetic glance.

“But why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride?” he asked, softening his tone.

“I didn’t want to bother you at work,” Blair murmured, wrapping his arms tighter around his stomach as his gut clenched. “Again. I really thought I’d be able to handle the bus. The chemo’s just hitting me hard today.”

“Hang in there, buddy,” Jim comforted him, reaching over to put a warm hand on his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

Blair closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he willed himself not to throw up in his friend’s truck. He managed to make it home and held on through the short elevator ride, but he quickly pushed past Ellison as he unlocked the door and ran straight for the bathroom. The sentinel gave him a few minutes, then went in and took his jacket off him before handing him a cold, wet washcloth. He went out to the living room, hanging the coat up on the hook by the door, then returned to the bathroom to help his guide to his room. Once he got Sandburg settled in bed, the detective disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a glass of ginger ale and a bucket that he set on the floor next to the bed.

“Just in case,” he said, giving his friend a small grin.

“Thanks, Jim,” Blair whispered gratefully. “I’ll be ok now. Why don’t you go back to work?”

“I wasn’t doing anything that can’t wait until tomorrow,” Ellison told him, turning off the light and suppressing a grin as he remembered his less than constructive activities. “Give a yell if you need anything.” He let himself out of the bedroom, leaving the French doors cracked a bit so he’d be sure to hear if his partner called, even though they both knew the gesture was completely unnecessary.

Blair slept restlessly for a few hours, and when the sentinel heard him beginning to stir he stuck his head back in the open door to see his friend sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Need a hand?”

“I can manage,” Sandburg replied, hauling himself to his feet and slowly making his way to the bathroom.

“How are you feeling?” Ellison asked in concern when he emerged.

“I don’t know,” Blair mumbled. “My stomach’s still in knots.”

“Do you want to come out here in front of the tv for awhile? We can watch PBS.”

“Jim, you hate PBS.”

“Yeah, but it’s commercial free,” the detective offered, knowing the last thing his queasy roommate needed to see was a plethora of ads for greasy burgers and meat lover’s pizza.

“Ok,” Blair grinned faintly, picking up on his friend’s reasoning. He ducked back into his room to get a pillow and his thick quilt before going and making himself comfortable on the sofa.

“Do you think it might help you to get a little food in your stomach?” Ellison suggested as he turned on the tv and set it to channel 3. “Want to try a few crackers or something?”

Sandburg considered his options, realizing that his friend was probably right and he should try and eat something.

“Maybe an apple.”

Jim got up and went to the kitchen, selecting the best apple from the bowl on the island. He washed it carefully and dried it before coring and peeling the fruit, removing the bruises and brown spots as he cut it into thin slices, trying to make it as palatable as possible. Arranging the apple pieces on a plate, he added a small handful of Saltines for good measure and set the plate on the coffee table in front of Blair. Going into the bedroom, he retrieved the half empty glass of ginger ale, dumping it down the sink and rinsing it before refilling it with ice and soda, which he placed next to the plate on the table. Then he settled down into a chair to watch the apparent nature program on polar bears, happy to see that the apple and the crackers had disappeared by the time Blair dozed off.

When he awoke, Sandburg was amused to find his friend staring intently at the tv, stroking his jaw thoughtfully and completely engrossed in the period piece before him.

“You almost look like you’re enjoying this,” he commented softly.

“What can I say?” Ellison shrugged, glancing over at him. “It’s actually a pretty good murder mystery.”

“Do you know ‘whodunit’ yet?”

“I would, if my senses could transcend the screen,” the sentinel maintained. “Actually, I was just thinking that when I retire I should try my hand at this. You know, become a mystery writer.”

“Forget fiction, man,” Blair scoffed. “You’d have a best seller just writing your memoirs. About all the head cases and psychos you’ve dealt with in your career.”

“Yeah,” the detective chuckled. “I can see it now. ‘Cascade: The Most Dangerous City in America’.”

“A Galley of Madmen and Maniacs, by Detective James Ellison,” Sandburg added.

“You look like you’re feeling a little better,” Jim observed, taking in the sparkle in his friend’s blue eyes.

“I am,” Blair confirmed, stretching slightly. “Hey! Am I going to be in your book?”

“Well, of course,” Ellison told him with a straight face. “I have to have someone to rescue from all the head cases and psychos.”

“I resent that,” Sandburg insisted, putting on a big show of hurt feelings. “You only had to save me from two or three.”

“I think that’s underestimating a bit, Chief,” Jim teased.

“Fine. Then I get to coauthor the chapter on Colonel Oliver. And maybe Klaus Zeller, too. Oh, and Arthur Sabin, since I did impersonate the guy. And I get editorial approval over everything before you publish.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Sandburg,” the sentinel agreed, finally giving up the grin.

Falling silent, they finished watching the show, with the detective correctly discovering the killer long before his identity was revealed by the tv sleuth. Then they sat awhile, chatting companionably through the nightly news until Blair announced he was going to bed. He started heading for his room but turned back to his friend, almost shyly.

“Jim, I just want to say thanks for everything you did for me today. I’m sorry I had to drag you from work, but I appreciate you looking out for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you, man.”

“You’d probably be owing some poor bus driver a big apology.”

Sandburg chuckled and said goodnight, disappearing into his room and leaving his sentinel staring after him. Clicking off the tv, Jim tossed the remote onto the table with a sigh, running his hands over his face wearily. As usual, Blair had it all ass-backwards. HE was the one that didn’t know what he’d do without the constant, reassuring presence of his guide in his life. HE was the one that couldn’t go on without the laughter and the warmth and the love his friend lavished on him unselfishly. HE was the one who should be on his knees, thanking Blair for all he did for him and for putting up with all the crap he dished out. Sandburg was strong. He was a fighter, a survivor, adaptable and adjusting. No matter what life threw at him, he dealt with it and moved on, spirit and soul intact. Jim was the one who was weak, the one who needed protection and support. Everything good in his life he drew one way or another from the remarkable man who had chosen to stand by his side. Blair didn’t need him. But he needed Blair, of that he was dead sure. The only thing Ellison couldn’t figure out was why he could never seem to tell him.

“Hey, Blair!” Joel immediately got up from his desk and came forward to greet the former observer as he entered Major Crime. “How are you doing?”

“I’m all right,” Sandburg replied.

“A little more than all right, I’d say,” Taggart grinned, thumping him gently on the back. “Jim just gave us the good news this morning.”

“Yep, complete remission,” Blair grinned back.

“That’s great, man. So no more chemotherapy, right?”

“Well, I have to take an oral form for at least another year. But the pills are pretty mild and the doctor said it shouldn’t even cause any side effects.”

“I knew you’d make it through,” Joel told him confidently. “We were all pulling for you.”

“I know,” Blair said simply, but his blue eyes were full of appreciation for all the support his friends had so freely given.

“Hey, are you looking for Jim?”

“Yeah, is he out on a case?”

“No, he’s in with the captain. You want me to go get him?”

“That’s ok,” Sandburg assured him, glancing toward the office to see that the blinds were closed. “I’ll just hang out until they’re done.”

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Joel promised him. “Listen, I have to run down to Records and pull some files. But it was good seeing you. We miss you around here.”

“Thanks,” Blair murmured, averting his gaze slightly.

“You take it easy.”

“Yeah, you too.” Sandburg watched Taggart as he left the squad, then he went and had a seat at his friend’s desk. His eyes trailed around the quiet room and he thought about all the hours he’d spent there, doing what he could to help. It started as a way to be close to his sentinel, to observe him in action. But as he quickly became familiar with procedure he found he had a knack for certain aspects of police work. And he began pitching in because he legitimately had something to offer, and it gave him a thrill to be able to assist with breaking the case, taking down the bad guys, and making the world just a little bit safer. These memories usually were a comfort to him, but today they seemed painful so he stashed them away, glad when the door to Bank’s office opened and his friend emerged.

“Hey,” Ellison greeted him in surprise. “What brings you down here?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go get some lunch with me,” Blair replied.

“Sure.” It sounded innocent enough, but the detective had a feeling that his friend was up to something. “Just give me a few minutes, ok?”

“Take your time,” Sandburg told him. “I’m going to go and say hi to Simon.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jim stuck his head through his captain’s door and announced he was ready. Blair bid farewell to Banks and they left the police station and headed downtown to an innocuous restaurant on which they both could agree. It was busy, but they found a table and placed their orders, making small talk until their food arrived.

“So, what do you want to talk to me about?” Ellison prompted, knowing that he only had an hour and that he was going to have to move things along.

Sandburg grinned, realizing that his friend knew him all too well, but then his smile faded and he met his sentinel’s gaze.

“Naomi’s leaving on Friday,” he said quietly. “She’s going down to Los Angeles to stay with my uncle for awhile.”

“And you’re going with her,” Jim concluded, suddenly losing his appetite.

“Yeah,” Blair sighed. “I know I owe you a lot, Jim, and someday maybe I’ll figure out how to repay you for everything. I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for me, because I do, believe me. But I can’t be a burden to you any more. It’s going to take me awhile to build myself back up to the point where I can do... Well, whatever I decide to do with my life. And I just can’t keep sponging off you like I’ve been doing. Besides, you have a life of your own. And it’s time I stop monopolizing it and let you get back to it.”

“Chief, listen, you don’t have...”

“That’s not the only reason I’m going,” Sandburg interrupted him, holding up a hand to halt the protests. “I’ve been through a lot, and I need some time to process it all and deal with everything and decide what comes next. I think it might be easier to do that with a change of scenery. You know, fresh start to gain a little perspective. And I want to spend a little time with my mom. I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen, and I really haven’t gotten to see her much over the years. With all that’s happened, we had a chance to reconnect, you know? I feel like I owe it to our relationship to keep the ball rolling forward. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Ellison said gruffly, taking a gulp from his glass of soda. He understood all too well. Naomi was giving Blair her undivided attention for the first time in his life, and he was desperate not to lose the mom he needed in place of the friend that she wanted to be. “But what about this follow up treatment? Can you get set up with another doctor down there?”

“All ready done,” Blair assured him. “Doctor Stern referred me to an oncologist friend of his. I’m meeting with him next week.”

“Guess you’ve got it all figured out then.”

“Are you mad?” Sandburg asked in confusion, picking up the strain in his voice.

“No, I’m not mad,” Jim finally answered. “It’s just.. How long are you going to be gone?”

“I don’t know. I’ll just have to see how things go.” Blair studied his friend, unable to read his expression behind his veiled eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that you need to do whatever you think is best for you,” Ellison said slowly. It was pretty much the exact opposite of what he was thinking, but what else could he say? Of course he didn’t want his friend to go. The sentinel was amazed that his guide could ever think he’d been a burden. It had been no sacrifice to stand beside him as he’d battled the insidious disease. And as for getting on with his life, well, Blair WAS a big part of that. The best part. But he couldn’t tell him that. Sandburg’s mind was made up, and Ellison didn’t want to take the selfish road and confuse him by asking him to stay. Blair had gotten his life back, too, and it was time to let him go and enjoy it, if that’s what he wanted. And time to admit that Naomi had won the war, and accept his defeat gracefully. “I hate to see you leave, Chief, but if you’re sure this is what you want, and you’re sure you’re going to be ok down there...”

“I’ll be fine,” Blair promised him. “I’m more worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Your senses. I know you have a pretty solid handle on the control now and I’ll always just be a phone call away. But I really think we ought to give the guys a crash course in Sentinel 101 just in case of an emergency.”

“No,” Ellison declared firmly. “I don’t want anyone to know about this.”

“They already know, Jim,” Blair told him, grinning at his friend’s stubborn denial. “They knew even before that idiot Sid started leaking my thesis to the press.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, man. You aren’t the only good detective in the unit. Ok, maybe they didn’t know exactly what was going on. But I think it was pretty obvious to everyone that you had some special... advantages. Why do you think no one even batted an eye when the truth came out?”

“Well, if they knew, why didn’t they ever say anything?” Ellison challenged.

“Probably because they could tell how sensitive you are about it, no pun intended. No one wanted to risk a big, defensive hissy fit.” Blair sighed and rolled his eyes as he took in the rigid signs that meant his friend was getting ticked off. “Jim, it is my fondest wish that someday you will realize that this gift you have is nothing to be ashamed of. That’s why no one ever questioned you, up until Megan and her inherent female curiosity came along. Because it’s no big deal to anyone but you. To Rafe and Brown and Joel you are just Jim Ellison, kick ass cop who can see and hear a little better than most. They leave it alone because they respect you, and I think if you really respected them, you’d tell them the truth.”

“It’s not a question of respect,” the sentinel told him firmly. “I’m just not ready to lay it all out in the open, okay?”

“Fine.” Sandburg sighed again. “Well, then what about Simon? I mean, he already knows. And despite all his grousing I think he’d be a willing substitute. I’m not leaving you all alone, Jim, with nobody to watch your back.”

“All right,” Ellison conceded. “You can talk to Simon when we get back to the station. And speaking of which, my time’s about up. I’m going to go and try to find our check.”

“You didn’t eat,” Blair pointed out, nodding to the plate that his friend had barely touched.

“I’ll take it with me.”

Jim located their waitress and paid the bill, getting a to go box along with his change. He packed up his lunch and then they left the crowded restaurant and started down the street toward the truck. Sandburg glanced up at the gray clouds and then turned to look at his friend.

“At least the weather will be better in L.A.”

“That’s not all that will be better,” Ellison said slyly, tucking his lunch under his arm as his hands traced a curvaceous shape in the air.

“Yeah,” Blair chucked. “And maybe now that I’m off chemo, I’ll be able to appreciate the view again and feel... inspired, if you know what I mean.”

“The Casanova of Cascade, rediscovering his libido and making up for lost time,” Jim teased fondly. “Those poor guys in L.A. don’t stand a chance.”

Ellison let himself into the loft, dropping a handful of mail onto the table by the door as he realized his soon to be ex-roommate wasn’t there. He wandered into the kitchen, brushing past Naomi who was stirring something on the stove in order to help himself to a beer.

“Where’s Blair?”

“He went out to fill up the car with gas and to get an oil change,” she replied. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning, you know.”

“Oh, you’re just loving this, aren’t you?” the sentinel drawled, bristling at the smugness in her tone.

“What?” Ms. Sandburg asked, the picture of innocence.

“You want me to say it? Fine. You’ve won, Naomi. You’ve got your way. But maybe you can clear something up for me.” Ellison moved out of the kitchen and positioned himself across from her on the other side of the island before he fixed a hard look on her. “You keep claiming you want what’s best for Blair. But if that’s true, then why do you want to drag him away from his home? Probably the only real home he’s ever known.”

“Oh, grow up, Jim,” she told him as she adjusted the heat under her bubbling pot. “It was his decision. I’m not pulling him out of here by the ear against his will.”

“Maybe not, but it was your idea, wasn’t it?”

“I suggested it,” Naomi confirmed cooly. “I thought it would be a good chance to spend some time together, and I have a lot of friends in LA that can help Blair with his recovery.”

“Help him how?” the detective asked suspiciously.

“In ways your closed mind could never understand.”

“Yeah,” Jim sneered. “Where’s my head for putting more faith in medicine rather than in what color shirt to put on or which rock to hide under my pillow?”

“You know something?” Naomi began, her eyes flashing as some of her composure vanished. “I’ve really been trying to let this go, but I’m getting fed up with this holier-than-thou attitude of yours. You haven’t always been the perfect friend, so stop trying to act so saintly.”

“I never said I was a saint,” Ellison said in a low voice.

“Then stop acting like a martyr,” she snapped. “You’re condemning me for taking Blair from his home, and it’s not even his. It’s yours, and you’ve just allowed him to live here as long as it’s convenient for you.”

“That’s not how it is,” Jim snarled as his anger grew. “You don’t know...”

“I know exactly how it is,” Naomi interrupted him. “If this really were his home, like you try and pretend, then he couldn’t get thrown out of it on a whim.”

The sentinel fell silent, some of his rage fading away. Those dark days seemed hazy to him now. He’d been running on pure instinct, not totally aware of what he was doing. He could remember it all well enough, but in a dreamlike way, not completely real. While he didn’t try to shirk his own responsibility for his irrational behavior, there were still outside factors that were clouding his judgement. Factors that he knew his guide took into account, although he had a hard time believing Blair would have recounted any part of the Alex tale to his mother.

“He told you about that?”

“He didn’t have to. I read it in his dissertation.” Naomi turned off the burner and slid the pot away from the heat before glancing up to take in the expression on his face, and suddenly she understood. “You didn’t read it, did you? After all that happened, you never even read it.”

“I didn’t have to read it, damn it!” Jim exploded, his anger returning. “I lived it!”

“That dissertation was the culmination of Blair’s life’s work,” Naomi reminded him. “And he gave it all up for you. He sacrificed his career and denounced everything he believed in to protect you and to try and save your friendship. Jim, he had a chance for a Nobel prize. The book deal alone would have made him rich. But he turned his back on it all for you. Not only do you act like this was expected of him, but you can’t even be bothered to give a passing glance to what started all of this. His life, which he gave up for you..” She met his steely blue gaze with a touch of sadness in her own eyes. “I’m starting to think Blair was right when he called his thesis a work of fiction. He wrote that you were a hero.”

“I never wanted to be a hero,” Ellison spat. “And I never wanted any of this.”

Naomi wasn’t quite sure what he was referring to, but it appeared he wasn’t going to elaborate as he turned and headed for the door.

“Blair will be home soon,” she told him in an effort to stop him. “I thought we could have dinner together.”

“I lost my appetite,” the sentinel muttered, feeling like the walls were suddenly closing in on him and needing to escape for some air.

“It’s his last night here,” Naomi called out to him. “I know he’ll want to see you.”

“Well, you’ve got it pegged, Naomi,” Jim tossed over his shoulder as he yanked the door open. “I’m just a selfish bastard.”

Blair zipped up the bag as he glanced around his room, wishing he could take more with him. But his beloved Volvo just wasn’t meant to double as a moving van. Since he wasn’t sure where life was going to lead him, he was reluctant to rent something bigger to haul all of his stuff to California, but Jim had graciously told him he was welcome to leave the rest of his things in the loft until he decided what he wanted to do.

Looking around the room again, Blair sighed and wondered if he was making the right decision. When Naomi had suggested that he go with her, it had seemed like a good idea. A chance to travel, take in some new sights, have an adventure, and spend a little time with his mom, who he had hardly seen since the day he started at Rainier. But now that the time had come he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his sentinel without a guide to watch his back, even though he knew that Simon would take care of him. And despite his earlier confidence, he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to leave Cascade. Jim had seemed a little upset by the prospect, which surprised him. But then he had to remind himself that he was doing this FOR Jim.

He hadn’t worked in almost a year. Naomi had helped him out a little with money, but mostly he’d been relying on Jim for room and board, and more often than not Ellison also picked up the cost of his prescriptions. But even more than financially, Blair knew he’d been an emotional burden on his friend. The sentinel had missed work and put his social life on hold to be there for him. And even now, while he was slowly getting better, Blair could see it was hard for his friend to just turn off that concern and worry that had become a habit over the past months. He was beyond appreciative for everything Jim had done for him, but he knew he had to put a little distance between them. Give Ellison a breather, and let him get back to living his life. It was the very least he could do.

“Honey, we really need to get going,” Naomi said softly as she stuck her head through the door. “I was thinking that maybe we could stop at Big Sur on the way down. There’s so much positive energy there, and the hot springs will do wonders for you.”

“Sure, mom, whatever you want,” Blair agreed absently. “Listen, why don’t you go and warm up the car and I’ll be down in a minute?”

“All right,” Naomi replied, understanding that her son wanted a private farewell with his friend. “Don’t take too long, Sweetheart.”

Sandburg waited until she left the loft, then he exited his room, dropping his bag by the door as Ellison came to stand before him.

“Do you have everything?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Blair replied. “I packed most of the stuff in the car last night.”

There was no accusation in the younger man’s tone, but the words still made the sentinel feel guilty that he hadn’t been there to help.

“Are you sure it’s all right for me to leave the rest of my stuff here? I can put it in storage...”

“It’s not going to be in the way,” Jim was quick to assure him.

"Well, I guess this is it," Blair murmured, trying to keep his tone light. "You've finally got me out of your hair. You can have the place like you want it again. No more noise or clutter..."

"Ah, it wasn't so bad," the detective told him with a fond smile. "I got used to it. I'm not sure I'll even know what to do with peace and quiet anymore."

"Jim, are you sure you're going to be ok with your senses? I don't want to leave you..."

"Sandburg, I'll be fine," the sentinel reassured him. "You filled Simon in so he can bail me out in a jam. And I promise you that I'll call you if anything weird happens or if I run into trouble. You just don't worry about me and concentrate on taking care of yourself. Don't get so bogged down with those alternative treatments that you forget to give modern medicine a try here and there."

"I won't," the younger man vowed with a grin.

"Here, I want you have this." Ellison reached over to the coat hooks by the door and picked up his Jags cap, gently placing it on his friend's head. "You'll need something to protect you from all that California sunshine, and I figure this will keep you honest and stop you from turning into a Lakers fan."

"Don't worry," Blair declared, adjusting the hat slightly. "My loyalties run true. But here, this is for you."

"I can't take this," Jim protested as his friend pressed his Swiss army knife into his hand. "This was your bar mitzvah present."

"It's ok. You might need it more than I will."

"Thanks," the detective whispered, squeezing the small knife tightly before sliding it into his pocket.

"Well," Blair sighed, slipping into his jacket. "Mom's waiting for me. I guess I'd better go."

"I want you to remember something, Chief," Ellison told him firmly. "This is your home, all right? Not just a place to store your stuff."

"Take care of yourself, Jim," Sandburg said softly, moving forward for a hug that the gruff cop both accepted and returned.

"You too, Blair," the sentinel murmured, his throat tight.

They pulled apart, a bit reluctantly, and Blair bent to pick up the bag at his feet. He straightened up, slinging the bag over his shoulder and taking one last parting look at the loft. Turning the knob, he opened the door, pausing to look back at the man who had become his best friend, however unlikely that had once seemed.

"Bye."

Jim could only nod as Sandburg slipped out the door, closing it behind him with a crushing finality. He stood, listening to his friend's footsteps moving down the hall, followed by the mechanical sounds of the elevator. Ellison wasn't sure if he'd be able to see him from the balcony or not, but decided he didn't really want to watch Blair driving away from him. Instead, he went to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee before going to sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he contemplated how he was going to deal with his newfound peace and quiet.

“Hey, Seth,” Blair greeted his uncle as he came through the door.

“Your friend, Jim, called. He said he’d call back later.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“Just said it wasn’t important and he’d try you later.”

Sandburg waited, but his uncle was absorbed with “Jeopardy!” and didn’t appear to have anything further to add to the conversation. With a shrug Blair made his way into the kitchen, stealing a glance at the phone before opening up the fridge to pull out some leftover Thai food. He’d just talked to his friend the day before, so he had a hard time believing Jim had called just to chat. And maybe what he wanted to talk about wasn’t important, but he must have had a reason to call. Curiosity got the better of him, so after he stuck his plate in the microwave to heat he picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hey, Jim, it’s me,” Blair announced when the detective answered.

“You didn’t have to call me back,” Ellison said. “I told your uncle it wasn’t important.”

“I know,” Sandburg told him. “But I figured you must have wanted something. Or had some juicy piece of gossip to tell me.”

“Like what?” the sentinel chuckled.

“I don’t know,” Blair murmured thoughtfully. “But there’s always something scandalous going on at the station. IAB stings, stakeouts gone bad. Torrid office romances. You didn’t find Megan holed up in the janitor’s closet with someone, did you?”

“No, and if she heard you talking like that she’d be on the next flight to L.A. for the sole purpose of kicking your ass.” Ellison paused, and then grew serious. “Actually there is something going on, but it’s not nearly as dramatic as your warped imagination would like to believe.”

“What is it?”

“I have a new partner. We got this rookie in, and Simon thoughtfully assigned me the babysitting detail.”

“Really?” Sandburg held back a laugh, for he could only imagine how well his friend had taken to that. “Is that a good idea, though? I mean, you’re going to have to be really careful with your sentinel abilities if you don’t want him to catch on.”

“Believe me, I tried to argue that with Simon,” the detective sighed. Banks had not been sympathetic in the slightest, telling him that as the best man on the team and cop of the year it was his duty and obligation to train the newbies. And although he didn’t come right out and say it in so many words, he alluded to the fact that Ellison had been a royal grouch since his partner had left and everyone was hoping that maybe the influence of an eager kid would temper some of his bad mood. “But he was pretty insistent.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Blair grinned. “What’s he like?”

“Aw, man,” the sentinel groaned. “He’s right out of the academy. Idealistic as hell, like an overgrown boy scout. Thinks he knows everything and he’s ready to go in, guns blazing, and get the bad guys and protect the innocent.”

“Kind of like you, when you first joined the force?” Sandburg suggested gently.

“Yeah, I’m starting to get an idea what I put Jack through,” Ellison agreed wearily. “But I at least had my army experience under my belt. This kid is just a baby. He doesn’t look more than sixteen. And he’s got a lot to learn.”

“You’ve got a lot to teach,” Blair pointed out. “He... What’s his name?”

“Lucas. Josh Lucas.”

“Ok. Josh might be young and enthusiastic, but I bet he’d be glad to learn from your experience. You are the best, after all. You just have to give him a chance.”

“I don’t know, Chief...”

“Come on, Jim. It’s been one day. Cut him a little slack. You’re stuck with this assignment whether you want it or not, so you might as well make it easier on both of you. And you never know. It might turn out to be a great partnership. At least I feel better, knowing you’ve got someone out there watching your back.”

“Yeah,” Ellison snorted. “If he doesn’t shoot me in it first, in a fit of enthusiasm. And who’s side are you on, anyway? I call, looking for a little sympathy, and all I get is a lecture.”

“Well I worked with you for over three years, remember,” Blair countered in response to his friend’s teasing. “So my sympathies are stacked with the new guy. He has no idea what abuse he’s in for. I know it’s tradition to razz the rookies, but Simon’s going a little extreme with this one by sticking him with you.”

“All right, you’ve made your point,” Jim conceded. “Now how about we change the subject before I have to show you how well my abuse can carry over the phone?”

By the time they hung up, Blair’s dinner had grown cold. He smiled as he set the timer to reheat his food once again. It seemed that with 1100 miles between them, they talked more than they had when they lived together. Not more than three days could go by without one calling the other, and Sandburg sent his friend long emails just about every day. Ellison had never really jumped on board the electronic communication bandwagon, but he managed to send enough notes back to keep Blair happy. He told himself that it was his duty to keep track of his friend, and monitor his recovery. Just as his guide told himself that it was his duty to keep track of his sentinel and make sure his senses were under control. Neither could really admit that it was just a case of missing a friend. For after years of living and working together, and facing one perilous situation after another, the bond between them had grown deep, deeper than either of them had realized until they were apart. But once confronted with it, they each knew the separation was going to take a little getting used to.

It was easier for Blair, at least at first, as he had the excitement of being in a new place to occupy his mind. He’d lived in L.A. off and on, but mostly when he was young and he hadn’t been back since he set up permanent residence in Cascade. So he enjoyed going out exploring, checking out various exotic shops and beatnik coffeehouses and underground clubs. The weather was gorgeous, and he spent plenty of warm, sunny afternoons strolling through the parks or hanging out on the beach. He even took a job at a small, independent bookstore. It was just a few hours a week and the pay wasn’t even worth the time, but it was an easy job that he liked and it gave him something meaningful to do.

But as the weeks went by and the novelty wore off, Blair started feeling a little bit lonely. Seth had always been his favorite uncle and they enjoyed each other’s company, especially during one wild weekend jaunt to Tijuana. But he was gone for long stretches of time, driving his rig up and down the west coast. Blair spent a lot of time with Naomi, but she and her friends truly lived an alternative lifestyle. While he shared many of her beliefs and principals, sometimes he craved the company of people outside of the New Age spiritual plane. Jim hadn’t been wrong about the plethora of beautiful California girls, and Blair did meet some cool people in the clubs or in the bookstore, but none of them could take the place of the friends he’d left back home. He missed his Rainier buddies, who shared his anthropological passions and who were always up for long debates on a variety of topics. And he missed his friends in MCU, who embodied everything that was noble and heroic and good. He even missed Dr. Stern. His new doctor was competent enough, but he was remote and lacking in the people skills and Blair just never could get entirely comfortable with him. But most of all, he missed Jim. The obstinate, frustrating, short tempered grump who was also the best man he knew. And the man who had transcended beyond the research project of a lifetime to become the friend that he loved.

There was a lot of shallowness in L.A. People engaging in all sort of insanity, driven by ambition and insecurity and greed. Sandburg quickly grew tired of being surrounded by the false Hollywood scene. There was a lot of beauty in the city, but it was tainted by a layer of smog and a plastic attitude. He missed the clean air and the natural charm of Cascade, rain and all. Blair tried to convince himself that he was just suffering from a little homesickness. He kept lecturing Jim about just needing some time to adjust and giving his new situation a chance, and he realized that he needed to take a little of his own advice. Especially since it seemed to be working so well for Ellison.

At first, the detective called frequently to gripe about his new partner. Blair let him vent, and then when it was all out of his system he offered his outsider’s perspective and goaded his friend until he started to get past his immediate reluctance. Jim couldn’t deny that the rookie had good instincts, and while his eagerness sometimes got the better of him, he was willing to learn and defer to his older and wiser partner. He picked up things quickly and never made the same mistake twice, and before long Ellison had to admit that young Joshua Lucas had the potential to be a great cop.

Initially, Sandburg was glad that his gruff friend had come around. But as that forced partnership progressed from tolerance to trust to a natural friendship, he began to feel distinctly unsettled. It seemed that Jim could talk of little else, and the adventures he and his partner were having soon dominated all of their conversations. And not just work adventures. Ellison regaled him with tales of ball games and poker and how he and Josh went cruising for women. The Lucas family owned a cabin in the woods next to a lake swarming with fish, and Josh had graciously opened up its use to everyone in Major Crimes. He was charming and good natured and got along with everyone, and he had been adopted of sorts as a little brother to the entire squad.

Blair tried to process his feelings, and he could only conclude that the uneasiness he was experiencing stemmed from jealousy. But that was ridiculous. He and Jim were friends. They would always be friends. Nothing would ever get in the way of that. And after all, he was the one who had left. This was what he wanted, to relieve Jim of the burden and set him free to reclaim his life. To turn around now and begrudge him that was childish and petty and Sandburg hated it. But he couldn’t deny what was in his heart. Although in his defense, he realized that he didn’t have issues with Jim going on with his life. The real problem lay in the fact that Ellison appeared to be cutting him out of it.

The phone calls became less frequent. And when Jim did call, he went on at length about how well his new partner was working out and how much control he had over his senses and how good things were in general. Blair always energetically reciprocated, telling him what he’d been up to and filling him in on the L.A. scene. For some reason, he just couldn’t confess that he was unhappy. Ellison was flying high, and Sandburg couldn’t bring himself to rain on his parade. So he lied to his friend, and he began to dread the phone calls that had previously sustained him, not wanting to hear about the good times that made his own existence feel even more dreary.

Blair withdrew for a bit, needing some quiet time to think things through. And he finally managed to convince himself that he was being silly. He and Jim had been through a lot together. And that wasn’t something that could just get tossed aside or forgotten. Whatever he and Jim went on to do in the future, either together or separately, it wouldn’t change what was in their past. Comforted by that, Blair made a resolve to be glad that things were going so well for his friend, for he just wanted Jim to be happy. And while he resolved to try and get on with his own life, he figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go and see his friend first. The holidays were approaching, and it seemed like a good time for a visit, both to see the friend that he missed and to reassure himself that he still had a place in Ellison’s life.

It took a few tries to catch the sentinel at home. Blair didn’t leave messages, preferring to be the aggressor rather than having to sit by the phone waiting for it to ring. On the third day he tried someone picked up, but the cheerful voice on the other end did not belong to his former roommate.

“Hi,” Sandburg said in surprise, wondering if he’d accidently dialed the wrong number. “Is Jim there?”

“Sure. Hang on just a sec.” Blair heard the thump of the phone being set on the counter, then the strange voice called out faintly in the background. “Yo, Jimbo! Phone!”

After a minute, the phone was picked up and he heard his friend’s familiar greeting.

“Hey,” Sandburg said softly. “It’s me.”

“Hey.” Ellison’s voice immediately grew warmer. “How you doing?”

“I’m good,” Blair replied. “Who was that on the phone?”

“Oh, that was Lucas,” Jim told him. “They’re redoing the plumbing in his building and he somehow managed to talk me into letting him stay here for a few days until they get his water back on.”

“Really,” Sandburg drawled, feeling the uncharacteristic jealousy stab at his heart as he well remembered his own “one week” stay at the loft. The week that had lasted for four years. “He’s staying in my room?”

“Well, yeah,” the sentinel answered, a bit puzzled by his reaction. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“It’s your house,” Blair blurted out, then he took a deep breath and made himself relax. “No, of course I don’t mind. But I left a couple notebooks...”

“I took care of that,” Ellison assured him, having already hidden the volumes detailing his sentinel abilities away in his closet upstairs. “Are you sure you’re ok, man? You sound kind of tired.”

“Maybe I am, a little.”

“Well what does the doctor say?”

“He says I’m doing fine.”

“You are taking care of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Jim,” Sandburg replied dutifully. But he had to smile at his friend’s demanding tone. “Look, we’ve been through this more than once. I’m taking my meds. I’m going in for my check ups. I’m not overdoing it. I’m doing ok.”

“I know you get tired of me nagging, but it is my job to worry about you,” the sentinel told him fondly. “I am your blessed protector after all.”

“So you are,” Blair murmured, feeling better and deciding to forge ahead. “So what are you doing for Christmas this year? Are you going to see the family?”

“A family, but not mine. I was conned into taking an unfair wager, and my penalty for losing is to spend a few days in Seattle with the Lucas clan.” Jim paused, and Sandburg could hear Josh talking in the background. Whatever he said, it was apparently not complimentary, judging by Ellison’s mock threatening reply. “Yeah, keep it up, Scout, and you’ll be sleeping out in your car tonight.”

“Maybe you’ll have a good time,” Blair offered, though the disappointment of his own holiday plans being squelched weighed heavily on him.

“Maybe. Lucas does have three sisters.” The detective chuckled over the loud protest in the background.

“Well, listen, I don’t want to keep you if you have company,” Sandburg put in hastily.

“You don’t have to hang up,” Jim reassured him.

“No, I have to get going anyway,” Blair told him. “I’m meeting some friends downtown in a little bit. I just wanted to call and say hi.”

“I’m glad you did,” Ellison said. “I’ll give you a call in a few days. You take care of yourself, Chief.”

“Bye,” Sandburg whispered. He hung up the phone and began to pace restlessly around the house, feeling confused. It was obvious Jim cared about him, but at the same time, he still felt like he was being pushed aside. His friend was slipping away from him, and he had no idea how to hold on. And he wasn’t sure he had any right to. Jim was sailing forward. It just didn’t seem right to slow him down with an anchor of dead weight.

Winter hardly seemed to touch the California coastline, but Blair found he had little appreciation for the sun. Gray skies would have better suited his mood. But as he entered the new year and sat down to make a few resolutions, he realized that part of his problem was a lack of direction. He had always been so focused on his goals, channeling his relentless energy into doing whatever he had to in order to achieve them. It made sense that this slump he was in had a lot to do with the fact that he was just drifting, with nothing to work toward and no outlets for his attention. However, identifying the problem was the easy part. Figuring out how to correct it was a bit trickier.

Anthropology had been his life. But it no longer seemed to be an option for a career. Seth encouraged him to contact some of the local universities and investigate the possibility of continuing his work toward his Ph.D. But Blair couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d been labeled a fraud, and he knew that no credible university would waste their time and money on someone that couldn’t be trusted. Naomi pointed out that he could start over in a new field, and that idea was not without merit. Blair had a wide variety of interests and a deep love of learning, and while at his age he didn’t relish the thought of becoming an undergrad again, it would be a step in the right direction to some sort of productive future.

Yet he hesitated, not sure if that was the future that he wanted. There was another option before him. A career in law enforcement. When he left Cascade, Blair had never intended that it would be for good. He’d only meant to take an extended vacation to deal with what he’d been through, recover some of his strength, give Jim a break, and spend a little time with his family. It was always his plan to return and pick up where he left off. But now he wondered if that was even still possible, for the place where he’d left off seemed to no longer exist. Jim, and in fact the whole MCU, had moved on. Blair didn’t blame them, for he couldn’t expect them to put their lives on hold and wait around for him to catch up. But he was left wondering where he stood, in relation to the squad and in relation to his friend. He knew he needed to call Jim and find out before he could make any decisions, but it was a call he was reluctant to make for he was afraid of what the answer might be. In the end, Ellison solved the dilemma by calling him.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” the sentinel announced when his guide answered, not bothering with a greeting.

“Uh oh, this sounds serious,” Sandburg said, only half joking. “What’s up?”

“I told Lucas everything.”

“Everything?” Blair repeated, feeling stunned. “What do you mean, ‘everything’?”

“Everything about me,” Jim explained. “I had to, Chief. We just work too closely, you know? I couldn’t hide my abilities all the time and he was noticing things, so I had to come clean.”

“How’d he take it?”

“Good, actually. Really good. He remembered the media circus about the cop with super abilities, but he never realized it was me. I told him it was all true. I figured I owed it to him, you know. I mean, he’s trusting me to watch his back, so he deserves to know that there’s a chance I could zone or have a sensory spike or something.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the responsible thing to do,” Blair agreed slowly. “And he was cool with it all?”

“Yeah, totally,” Ellison replied. “He even wants in on it. I told him about you and how we used to work together, and he wants to learn how to do what you did to help me. I was thinking maybe he could borrow some of your notes or something. Give him a better idea of how this whole thing works.”

“Sure,” Sandburg said quietly. “That’s a good idea.” And he meant it. At least with his head, even if his heart didn’t quite agree. Simon often wasn’t there when things got dicey, and Jim needed someone close who could guide him when he was in trouble. He couldn’t deny his sentinel that, so he told Ellison which of his many volumes would be best in terms of pointing his new partner in the right direction.

They talked for a few minutes and then Blair hung up the phone with a sigh, rubbing his fingers absently over his temple, realizing his fears had just been validated. He’d been replaced, but at least he finally knew where he stood. With another sigh, he went to his room, pulling out the UCLA application from his backpack. He’d have to find a full time job and work through the summer, but he was fairly sure he’d be able to get a few grants and he was confident he’d be ready to start classes in the fall. He found a pen and made himself comfortable as he began filling out his application. The past was finally behind him, and it was time to embrace his future.

The silence of the darkened house was becoming oppressive. Blair wandered through the rooms, turning on lights, but the illumination did little to cheer him. He desperately needed someone to talk to, but his uncle was out on the rig and Naomi was in a deep trance, coming up on her third hour of meditation. Sandburg made his way to her room, leaning in the doorway and watching her silently, wishing that she would wake up and talk to him. But he knew better than to disturb her before she was ready, so he turned away and meandered back through the house, coming to a halt in the kitchen as his gaze landed on the phone. He had resolved to be strong. And he had resolved to keep looking ahead, instead of behind him. But he couldn’t remember ever feeling as low as he did at that moment, and his good intentions crumbled under the weight of the despondence pressing down on him. Caving in to his desperation, he picked up the phone and sat down at the table.

Jim was tempted to let the machine pick up. But a time out was called on the second ring so he jumped off the couch and jogged over to the kitchen to grab the phone, figuring he could take advantage of the fact that he was up to snag another beer.

“Ellison.”

“It’s me.”

“Sandburg?” The sentinel almost didn’t recognize his guide’s voice, as it was so uncharacteristically empty and hollow. “How are you doing? Are you watching the game?”

“No, actually I’m not, Jim.”

“What’s going on?” the detective demanded, concern growing rapidly as he failed to detect any spark of life in his friend’s soft tone.

“I’m tired,” Blair confessed finally. “And scared.” There was a long pause, and when he spoke again his voice had a distinctive waver. “And I just want to come home.” There was silence on the other end and he began to wonder if he’d gotten disconnected. “Jim, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, Chief,” came the reply. “Listen, I’m going to have to call you back, ok?”

“Oh, sure, man,” Sandburg told him. “No problem.”

“Stay by the phone,” Ellison commanded. “I’ll call you right back.”

Blair hung up and folded his arms on the table, dropping his head down as the tears filled his eyes. Never in his life had he felt so lost and alone. His mother had abandoned him for the spiritual realm, and Jim had just hung up on him... why? Because he had someone on the other line? Because he didn’t want to talk to him until the game was over? Because his new partner was still living there? Or was it because he needed time to think of a lie he could tell, rather than admit he was enjoying his solitude and that he’d decided he didn’t want to go back to having a roommate again. Though he tried with all his might to hold them back, Sandburg’s shoulders shook with quiet sobs. The rejection was just too much to bear on top of everything else.

He was just getting himself together, splashing some cold water on his face at the sink when the phone rang. For a moment he froze, not wanting to answer and hear something that would be the final blow. But then he sighed, wiping a towel over his face and deciding to just get it over with.

“Hello.”

“Ok, Chief, you’re all set. Can you be there by nine?”

“Be where?” Blair asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

“The airport,” Ellison told him. “I booked you a flight to Cascade. It leaves at 9:30, and I’ll pick you up here at 11:00. Can you make it there on time?”

“I think so,” Sandburg said slowly, glancing at the clock on the microwave. It didn’t leave him much time, but he figured he could throw a few things together and grab a taxi. “Jim... I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you can figure that out on the plane, because you don’t have time to do it now,” the sentinel reminded him. “Go get moving, and I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

“Ok,” Blair whispered. “Thanks.”

He hung up the phone, shaking his head slightly as a warm realization began to surge through him. When he’d pushed past the confusion of his thoughts and looked into his heart, he was able to see clearly what it was he’d really wanted. But as he dialed the phone, Blair had been afraid that it wasn’t going to be what Jim wanted. It almost seemed like too much to hope for that his sentinel would welcome him back. But not only did Ellison want him back, he wanted him back now. Instead of days of driving, he’d be back in his room that night. Sandburg wasn’t quite sure what it all meant in terms of his future, but it didn’t matter. He was going home.

Blair shook his head again, managing to shake himself out of his stupor. He had to hurry if he was going to make it to the airport in time, and he was going to have to rouse Naomi. She wasn’t going to be happy about it. Being prematurely awakened, or hearing what he had to say. But she would just have to deal, for he didn’t have time to coddle her. And it was about time she learned that not everything was about her. For once he was going to do what was best for him.

Blair came through the gate, waving slightly as he caught sight of his friend waiting for him. Jim waved back, grinning broadly to hide the anxiety he felt. Sandburg’s hair had started to grow back, but other than that he looked worse than when he had left. He was plodding along slowly, his shoulders hunched and his face drawn. Blair looked exhausted, depressed, afraid... and sick.

“Hey, Jim,” he said quietly as he approached him.

“Hey, yourself,” Ellison replied, reaching out and pulling him into a warm hug. He frowned unconsciously, disturbed by how thin the younger man was, and by the way Sandburg was clinging to him like a long lost lifeline. “What’s wrong, buddy?” he whispered into his guide’s ear. He felt his friend shudder against him, but the head against his shoulder gave a slight shake. “Do you have any luggage?” Jim asked, letting him go and taking the large canvas bag from him, slinging it over his shoulder. Blair shook his head, trying to surreptitiously wipe the moisture from his eyes. “Come on,” the sentinel said gently, putting a strong arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

Sandburg was quiet as they left the airport, staring out of the window into the dark night. When they were about halfway home, he turned a little in his seat to face his friend.

“Your partner isn’t still staying at the loft, is he?”

“No,” Ellison replied, a bit surprised by the question. “That was months ago and it was only for a few days.”

“I know,” Blair murmured. “But I was only supposed to be there for a week.”

“Well, you always have been the exception,” Jim told him warmly, reaching over to punch him gently on the arm. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop and get something to eat?”

Sandburg shook his head, so the detective kept a straight course to the loft. They arrived and went inside, and for a moment Blair just stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight and simply glad to be home. He let out a long breath and met his friend’s steady gaze. There was a lot to say, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

“Jim....”

“It’s late,” Ellison said softly when he faltered. “Why don’t you go and get some sleep? We can talk tomorrow.”

Blair nodded and picked up his bag from the floor where the sentinel had set it down and headed for his room.

“Hey, Chief?”

Sandburg paused in front of the French doors and looked back over his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” he whispered, his smile saying everything that he couldn’t verbalize. Blair entered his room and closed the door behind him, finding that everything was exactly how he’d left it and that his bed had been made up with a set of clean sheets. He changed his clothes and crawled under the covers, comforted by the familiarity and feeling warm and safe. And almost happy.

Sandburg was still asleep when Ellison got up in the morning, and the detective tried to be as quiet as he could while he got ready for work, not wanting to wake him. Something told him his friend was in need of a good night’s rest. He was in court most of the morning, but after lunch the sentinel had a seat at his desk and dialed the phone, knowing that his guide would answer. Blair had never been shy about picking up the phone.

“Hey, how are you doing?” he greeted.

“I’m ok.”

“I’ve got the weekend off, and I was thinking maybe we could do some fishing. Interested?”

“Yeah,” Blair replied agreeably. “That sounds good.”

“Go ahead and get the tackle together, but we won’t need any of the camping gear. I’ll pick you up after work and we can stop and get some supplies on the way to the cabin.”

“What cabin?” Sandburg demanded, knowing they would certainly need camping gear if they were heading to the usual rustic retreat.

“My partner’s. Well, his family’s. Wait til you see this place, Chief. It’s better equipped than a resort.”

“Yeah,” Blair muttered. “Can’t wait.”

By the time Ellison arrived home, Sandburg had all the fishing gear packed and piled by the door. It was a small stack with the usual bulk of sleeping bags and camping supplies eliminated, and the two men were able to haul everything to the truck in one trip.

“Are we picking up Josh or is he meeting us there?” Blair asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“He’s not coming with us,” the detective told him as he got behind the wheel and fired up the ignition. “Why would you think he was?”

“I just assumed, since it was his cabin...”

“Nobody in his family uses it very often,” Ellison explained. “So they’re happy to let friends borrow it in exchange for keeping up on the place and keeping an eye on things. Lucas isn’t even going to be around this weekend. He’s heading to Seattle for his cousin’s wedding. So the place is ours until Monday.” He glanced over at the younger man. “Unless you’d rather rent the old standby and rough it.”

“No,” Sandburg replied. “I think I’m down with the creature comforts this time.”

Before leaving town, they stopped to grab a quick dinner and to pick up the few supplies they’d need for the weekend. Then the bustle of the city was soon behind them, traded for the inky blackness of the forest, illuminated only by their headlights and the smattering of stars in the dark sky. Blair was restless, squirming slightly in his seat as the miles ticked by, until he finally took a deep breath and turned to face his friend.

“The cancer’s back.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that, Chief.”

Blair relaxed back against his seat, relieved to have gotten that out of the way. They had a lot to talk about, but it was enough for the time being. Jim reached out and flipped on the radio and they drove the rest of the way in silence, enjoying the music and the starry sky and just being in each other’s company once again.

The cabin turned out to be a far cry from “roughing it”. It had electricity and plumbing and the kitchen was equipped with all the modern appliances. There was even a small washer and dryer and a tv, although the reception left something to be desired. They decided to build a fire for ambiance, and Blair set about doing that while Jim hauled in their gear and supplies. Once they had each claimed a room and unpacked, they pleasantly passed the rest of the evening making popcorn and playing cards.

In the morning, Ellison arose early to find his friend already up and sitting out on the porch, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the chill that the impending summer hadn’t quite chased out of the predawn forested air.

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long.”

“I didn’t even hear you come out here.” There were wicker chairs, damp with dew, but the sentinel chose to have a seat next to his guide on the steps.

“I just wanted to watch the sunrise,” Sandburg told him.

Jim looked out over the lake, which had been transformed into a shimmering bay of gold by the sun that was steadily climbing over the horizon. He glanced back toward his friend, but paused as he caught the expression on his face.

“What is it?” When no answer came, Ellison elbowed the younger man slightly. “Come on, Chief. Talk to me.”

“I shouldn’t have come back here,” Blair said quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve got no right to impose on you like this,” Sandburg murmured, his gaze firmly fixed out on the lake. “I mean, things are going so good for you now, with work and your senses and everything. I told myself I wasn’t going to come back and mess that all up for you again. But I didn’t know what to do and I guess I just panicked.”

The sentinel was silent for long moments, which his guide took as a confirmation to his words. But in reality, the light bulb had gone off and everything was suddenly making sense. And with a wave of regret, Ellison understood the damage he had done with good intentions.

“Well, Chief, you said it yourself. For a guy with hyper senses, I can be pretty dense.”

It wasn’t the reply he’d been expecting, and Blair turned to look at his friend quizzically.

“I kept telling you how great things were because I didn’t want you to worry about me,” Jim explained. “I figured that if you thought everything was good and that I had someone looking out for me, you’d forget about me and concentrate on taking care of yourself. But I never meant to make you feel like you couldn’t come home. Blair, I’m sorry. I should have realized how that would sound to you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sandburg argued, unconvinced. “Look, you’ve got your new partner now...”

“But you’re my guide,” the sentinel interrupted, giving him a pointed look. “You know, I never did tell you about that time we were in Peru. How I got my powers back.”

“How did you?”

“It was a choice,” Ellison told him. “I had to choose whether to go on as a sentinel, or to go back to being an ordinary man.”

“So you chose to be the sentinel,” Blair concluded.

“Because of you,” Jim confessed. “You made me believe that I could do it. And helped me to see that I do have a gift, one that I can use to help a lot of people. I couldn’t do this without you, Chief. Lucas is great, but he could never take your place. You are the only partner I’ve ever needed or wanted.”

“Do you really mean that?” Sandburg whispered.

“Yes, I do.” Ellison reached out, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. “And I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise. Blair, I’ve always been able to count on you to help me out when I needed it. Just like you can count on me. You aren’t imposing on me, or putting some sort of crimp in my life. You are one of the best parts of my life, and you could never, ever be a burden to me. Come on, there’s no way in hell I’d let you go through this alone. We’ll face it together, right? Just like we always do.”

“I don’t know,” Blair choked out. “I don’t know if I can go through that again, Jim.”

“I’ll help you,” the sentinel promised, sliding a little closer and wrapping an arm around his shaking friend. “When we get back home, call Dr. Stern and make an appointment. I’ll go with you, and we can talk about the options we have. But whatever happens, I’m right here with you, every step of the way.”

Blair nodded, letting out the long breath that he’d felt like he’d been holding for days. He’d been so scared, and so lost and confused. But just as the bright sun was chasing away the lingering shadows, things were starting to become clear as Jim gave the boot to his lingering doubts and uncertainties. Blair hadn’t been cured. He was still sick, and his prognosis wasn’t looking too good. But suddenly he felt better. He was home, he was safe, and he hadn’t been replaced. On the contrary, now more than ever, he felt loved.

“Come on,” Ellison urged him, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he stood up. “I’m hungry. Let’s go make some breakfast, and then we have to hit the lake. There’s a monster bass in there that keeps giving everyone the slip, and I bet Lucas $20 that we’d land it this weekend.”

“Then we’d better get fishing,” Blair said with a grin as he got to his feet and followed his friend inside. While his fears of being supplanted had been laid to rest and he could honestly bear no ill will against his substitute, there was still something satisfying in the thought of sticking it to the little upstart.

Blair glanced over at his friend, watching the scowl as it descended over his features. With a sigh, he realized he should be paying attention, even though he already knew what was coming, having heard it all in L.A. But he dutifully directed his focus back to the man seated on the other side of the desk as he reiterated the things he didn’t want to hear.

“My best recommendation is to repeat our initial course of treatment,” Dr. Stern was saying.

“It didn’t work the first time,” Ellison interjected. “What are the chances it will work again?”

“I understand your frustration, Jim,” the doctor said patiently. “But we achieved remission once with this treatment, and I think we have a good chance of doing it again.”

“But then what?” the detective demanded, getting up to pace around his chair. “He has a few months and then it comes back again? How many times can you put him through hell before it finally kills him?”

Blair glanced up in surprise, and Ellison met his gaze, shaking his head slightly in apology as he realized what he was saying.

“Blair, I am sorry to have to put you through this again,” Dr. Stern said softly. “But you are young and I don’t want to see you give up the fight. It may not be great, but there is a possibility of a cure. Sometimes it takes a few tries to get there. I wish I could offer you more, but right now repeating your last treatment is our best option.”

“What about a bone marrow transplant?” Ellison asked, coming to a halt next to his friend’s chair and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“That’s a very expensive procedure, and it’s still classified as experimental so most insurance companies won’t pay for it.”

“Is that what it’s about? Money?” The detective resumed his pacing with a disgusted air. “Look, I’ll find a way to pay for it. I’ll take out a loan if I have to or I’ll borrow the money from my old man.”

“Jim, come on...”

“Chief, we’ll fight about it later, ok?”

“That’s not all it is,” the doctor continued, raising his voice slightly to be heard. “It’s also a very dangerous procedure. And without a known sibling, finding a donor is going to be nearly impossible.”

“Well, you have some sort of registry, don’t you?” Blair pressed.

“Yes, but the chances of finding an exact match... It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Well, I happen to have a special talent for finding needles in haystacks,” the sentinel declared, taking his seat and meeting the doctor’s eyes with a steely gaze. “So let’s look. And while we’re looking, go ahead and test me. If I don’t match, we’ll start up some sort of drive within the police force. If Sandburg does have a match out there somewhere, I promise you I’ll find it.”

“All right guys,” the doctor relented, admiring the detective’s determination. “Either way, we’re still going to have to do another round of chemotherapy. So let’s get you admitted to the hospital in the morning, Blair, and we’ll get you started with the treatment. In the meantime, I’ll put you into the registry and we can check any extended family. You never know, we just may get lucky.”

“Jim, we’ve been through this a hundred times,” Blair complained. “I’ll be fine, so would you just get out of here already?”

“Settle down, Chief. I’ve still got a few minutes.”

“Yeah, you said that half an hour ago,” Sandburg reproached him. “What’s with you, man?”

“Nothing,” Ellison sighed, rising from his chair and running a hand over his hair. He still wasn’t sure if he’d managed to entirely convince his friend that he wanted to be there for him, and he didn’t trust the younger man to be honest with him and let him know when he needed something. But of course he couldn’t tell him that. “All right, I’m heading to the station then, if you’re sure you don’t want me to stay.”

“I’m sure,” Blair told him in a voice that clearly indicated he had already thoroughly made this point. Repeatedly.

“I’ll stop by after work,” the detective declared, picking up the Jags cap that his friend had given back to him and adjusting it on his head. “When’s Naomi getting here?”

“Well,” Sandburg hedged, not wanting to admit the truth as it would probably increase his sentinel’s reluctance to leave him alone, but also realizing there was no point in trying to lie. “I don’t think she is coming.”

“Why not?” Ellison had been moving toward the door, but he halted and turned around, taking a seat at the foot of his friend’s bed.

“She’s not real happy with me right now,” Blair confessed. “Actually, she’s pretty pissed that I opted to come back here and give chemotherapy another try.”

“Well what did she expect you to do?” Jim demanded in exasperation.

“She wanted me to meet with a healer friend of hers. Guy swears he’s cured a bunch of different cancers with this certain combination of rainforest plants and herbs. Naomi’s argument was that I gave Western medicine a chance and it failed, so it was time to try an alternative. And she didn’t take it very well when I told her I was checking in here for round two.”

“Well, even if she is ticked, it’s not going to stop her from being here, is it?”

“Yeah, I think it probably will,” Blair chuckled, although there was no humor in his laugh. “She told me that if I wanted to kill myself, that was my decision but she wasn’t going to hang around and watch me do it.”

“But what if she matches as a donor?” Ellison persisted, trying not to let the fury he felt show through.

“Then she’ll come,” Sandburg replied confidently. “She might be mad at me, but she’d never deliberately hurt me. She’d come if I needed her.”

“If you say so,” the sentinel muttered, biting back a few choice words he had lined up. Not that he was by any means eager to see Naomi again, but he knew that her son loved her. And despite any protests he might make, Blair was going through hell and he needed his mother, donor or not. Pushing away the tempting idea of flying down to L.A. for the sole purpose of slapping the bitch, Jim quickly changed the subject. “You know, I’m actually a little surprised you didn’t go for the herbal cure. You said yourself you weren’t too jazzed about doing the chemo again. Seems like it wouldn’t have been too hard for Naomi to talk you into it.”

“I thought about it,” Blair admitted. “And I definitely didn’t want to go through this again. But it’s cancer. However you choose to fight it, it’s still a fight. And it’s not one you can win without a positive outlook and attitude. And I knew that I just wasn’t going to have that in L.A. I trust Dr. Stern, and this just felt right. Truth is, Jim, I just feel better being here.” He looked away, his voice dropping so low the sentinel had to turn up his dial to hear him. “Because you’re here.”

Ellison reached out, finding his knee underneath the blanket and giving it a little squeeze.

“I’m going to call Simon and tell him I’m not coming in today.”

“No!” Sandburg protested, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I was using ‘here’ as a general term. I didn’t mean that you have to be physically here in this room 24/7. So for God’s sake, will you just go to work already?! I’m...”

“Fine,” the detective interrupted quickly. “I know, you’re fine.”

“No, I’m tired,” Blair whined, lifting a leg to kick at him playfully. “You kept me up half the night, and now you’re here bothering me and won’t leave me alone so I can get some sleep. What kind of a bedside manner is that, depriving a sick person of his rest?”

“All right,” Ellison laughed, finally giving in and getting to his feet. “I’m going. I’m going. I’ll stop back in later this evening.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything,” Sandburg told him before he could be ordered to do so.

“Promise?” Jim asked, fixing a firm gaze on his friend.

“Yes,” Blair answered. “I promise.”

The sentinel believed him, and although he hated to leave, he said goodbye and let himself out of his guide’s hospital room. As he walked down the hall, Ellison came to the decision that he would finish out his work week, but come Monday he was taking a few days off. He was going to be there for Sandburg when the effects of the chemo got bad, whether he was needed or not.

As his friend left, Blair picked up the remote for the tv, but after a moment he tossed it back onto the table beside his bed and rolled over on his side, making himself comfortable. He hadn’t lied; he was tired, and it had been a late night. Jim had invited the MCU gang over to the loft for an impromptu dinner, and everyone stayed a lot longer than he had anticipated. Sandburg hadn’t been enthusiastic about the idea, sure that people had to be growing weary of get togethers in his honor and flatly refusing to even invite any of his other friends. But he had been touched at the outpouring of love and support that Simon and the detectives offered him, just as strong or stronger than when he was first diagnosed. And once again he was reminded of what a great group of people they were. Including Jim’s new partner.

Ellison invited him without even a second thought and Blair wasn’t about to object, although he had been prepared to dislike the unsuspecting kid on principal. But two minutes after he’d walked through the door, Sandburg was already warming up to him. Josh Lucas definitely looked like he could still be in high school, with his ripped jeans and baby face. But he had an open demeanor and an easy nature that made Blair instinctively trust him, even though his warm brown eyes sparkled with more than a hint of mischief under his tousled brown hair. At one point in the evening, Lucas pulled him aside, full of questions about Jim’s sentinel abilities. Sandburg could see that he was honestly intrigued and genuinely concerned, and a little excited, almost like a boy who was realizing his dream of becoming sidekick to a superhero. More amused than threatened, Blair gave him brief answers and a few suggestions, promising that once he was out of the hospital they could sit down for an in depth discussion. And he could honestly admit to himself that he was glad Jim had the kid watching his back. Any remaining jealousy he had was permanently put to rest as he watched his sentinel joking and jostling with his partner. Ellison looked up, catching his eye, giving him a grin and wink. And in his gaze Blair could plainly read love and affection and affirmation, and at that moment he knew without a doubt that his place in Jim’s life was rock solid and nothing or no one would ever come between that.

Sandburg stifled a yawn as he reached down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulder. It had seemed that he had no sooner gone to bed when it was time to get up and leave for the hospital for another insanely early admittance. He’d already had his central line IV implanted, and in a few hours he’d be starting his first dose of chemo. Which would mean pain and sickness and misery and sleepless nights. Closing his eyes, Blair decided to catch a nap while he could, and within minutes he was relaxing into peaceful slumber.

“Hey,” Ellison greeted his friend as he entered the room.

“Hi, Jim.”

“What’s wrong?” the sentinel asked sympathetically, taking in his guide’s solemn expression. “Is it the nausea?”

“No, it’s not too bad,” Blair told him. And it was true. He wasn’t sure if he was tolerating it better the second time around or if the side effect drugs were working better, but three doses of chemo had yet to get the best of him. Naturally he was feeling some sickness, but the symptoms were bearable. “Dr. Stern got the results from my cousins in Texas today.”

“No matches, huh?” Ellison concluded, feeling his own spirits flag as his friend shook his head. “Is that it? Is there anyone else?”

“That’s everyone,” Sandburg replied dejectedly. Seth had wanted to come up to see him, but his nephew had talked him out of it since he wasn’t allowed to have visitors anyway and there would be no point to it. But his uncle still wanted to help and had gladly taken on the task of contacting all of the scattered relations, both immediate and distant. And even the people that Blair hadn’t seen in years had immediately gone to their respective doctors to be tested. Dr. Stern had put a rush on all the results, hoping to find a match. But none of the relatives matched closely enough to even consider risking a transplant. “Guess I got my genes from my dad, whoever he was.”

“Look, don’t give up, Chief,” Jim consoled him as he eased himself into the empty chair by the bed. “They’re still checking that registry, right?”

“Yeah, but there’s a billion different combinations of these antigens,” Blair argued. “The chance of finding someone with everything lined up same as me is essentially hopeless.”

“It’s never hopeless,” Ellison lectured him sternly. “Simon put out the word yesterday, asking for volunteers to be tested. That call’s going through every precinct in the city, and probably all the fire stations, too. If there’s a match, we’ll find it. And if we don’t find one, it still isn’t hopeless. There’s always the chance that the chemo will do its job this time and the cancer won’t come back again.”

“You’re right,” Sandburg agreed slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before glancing over to his friend with a grin. “You know, you could tell me that the world is flat and the moon is made of green cheese, and I’d probably believe you.”

“Well, we can’t both be cynical,” the sentinel teased him. “So if you’re taking my role, then I guess it’s up to me to have the positive attitude.”

“Ok. But as long as I’m being cynical, I have a favor to ask you.”

“If you’re going to ask me to sing to you, don’t bother,” Ellison told him firmly. “I’m not falling for that one again.”

“No, no singing.” Blair sighed, unconsciously running his fingers through his crop of short curls. “I can’t stand sitting around and waiting for my hair to fall out again. I want to get it over with, like we did last time. Do you think you could get me an electric razor or something?”

“Yeah,” Jim said quietly, his good humor rapidly fading. “I can do that.”

“At least that’s one thing I can control,” Sandburg muttered, leaning back against his pillow. He was quiet for a minute, then he sat back up, making a face. “Jim, I have another favor.”

“What is it?” Ellison asked in concern, getting up and hovering over his friend. “Are you in pain?”

“Yeah,” Blair answered wryly. “It pains me to admit this. I’m hungry.”

“What do you want?” the sentinel asked, willing to get anything if it would tempt his friend’s tenuous appetite.

“I’ve got this craving for cheese fries,” his guide admitted sheepishly. “Would you mind going to Wonderburger?”

“No,” Jim told him, unable to hold back a smirk. “I can do a food run. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Blair relaxed with a heavy sigh as his friend left the room, knowing with absolute certainty that he was never going to be allowed to live this one down.

Ellison glanced up as the door opened and started in surprise to see Naomi standing there. She hesitated for a moment, then came forward to stand beside her son’s bed, looking down on him with a fond smile. Reaching out, she gently traced a finger along his cheek before leaning down to kiss his forehead. As she straightened, she met the sentinel’s gaze and nodded toward the door in invitation. After a few minutes he got up and followed her, finding her seated on the bench at the end of the hallway.

“I didn’t want to wake him,” she explained as the detective approached. “How is he doing?”

“He’s sick,” Jim answered with shrug of sad resolution. Six doses of chemo in, and Blair was finally starting to take a battering from the side effects. “But he’s holding his own.” The sentinel was about to continue on with a smart ass comment, but he stopped as he took a good look at Naomi, never before having seen her so lifeless and withdrawn. “He’ll be glad to see you.”

“Jim, I didn’t come here to interfere or to cause trouble,” she began, reaching out and capturing his hand. “I know you don’t believe me, but I really do want what’s best for Blair. And what I’ve come to realize is that he can decide for himself what that is. I may not agree with it, but I have to respect it. If this is what he wants, then I’ll support him.”

“I do believe you, Naomi,” Ellison told her, sensing her sincerity and figuring she deserved a little in return. “And I know that you love him.”

“I do.” She rose gracefully and took his other hand, squeezing them both between her own. “And if I had to lose him to someone, I’m glad it was you. Because I know you love him just as much as I do.”

“Even if I’m not a perfect friend?” the sentinel asked tightly, looking away.

Naomi smiled, letting him go and running a hand along his arm.

“Who is?”

“Ok,” he demanded. “Who are you, and what did you do with the real Naomi?”

“It’s the real me, I promise you,” she laughed, a spark of her former vibrance returning. “I’ve spent the week at Big Sur, doing a lot of processing and soul searching. And to tell you the truth, I’m ashamed of the way I behaved the last time I was here. Competing with you over Blair’s affection. I used my own son, sick as he was, in a game of tug of war.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Ellison reminded her, for he had been dealing with his own guilt in that same matter. “I guess we were both acting pretty selfish.”

“I did gloat when he agreed to come with me to L.A.,” Naomi confessed. “And it did hurt when he told me he was going back to Cascade to be with you. I felt like I lost the war to keep my son. But then it hit me while I was meditating. It had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with Blair. He needs to be where he’s happy, and if that’s here with you, then I need to hug you and thank you for taking care of him and giving him a home and making him feel safe and loved.”

“How about we just call a truce and leave it at that?” Jim suggested. He was rapidly regaining the respect for Ms. Sandburg that he had lost, but he wasn’t yet at the point where he wanted to embrace her, figuratively or literally.

“A truce,” she agreed amicably. “For Blair’s sake.” She reached down into her purse and rummaged through the contents until she pulled out a pad and a pen, quickly scribbling something down before ripping off the sheet and handing it to him. “It’s getting late and it’s been a long drive. I’ll be staying with a friend in town, and this is the number in case you need to reach me.”

“Naomi, you don’t have to do that. You can stay at the loft,” Ellison offered, scarcely believing those words were actually coming out of his mouth.

“That’s sweet, Jim, but I think our truce might be easier to uphold this way.” She smiled, meaning no offense. “If Blair wakes up, tell him that I was here and that I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

“I will.”

Before she left, Naomi reached out, drawing him into a tight hug. And surprisingly, the sentinel found that he didn’t mind.

“Good afternoon, Blair,” the doctor greeted as he entered the room, nodding at Jim and Naomi. He pulled the chart off the end of the bed and balanced it on top of the clipboard in his hands as he glanced over the nurses’ notations. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m doing ok,” Sandburg replied stoically.

“I have some good news and some bad news for you.”

“Great. What’s the bad?”

“I’m afraid you’re going to need more chemo.”

“What?” Blair didn’t even bother trying to hide his anguish, not when he’d spent all morning consoling himself that he only had one more dose to go. “Why?”

“Because we found a donor match,” Dr. Stern told him with a warm smile. “You’re getting your bone marrow transplant.”

“That’s wonderful, Sweetheart,” Naomi murmured, hugging her son.

“Well who is it?” Blair asked as the news sunk in. “Someone from the registry?”

“No, it’s one of Cascade’s finest,” the doctor replied as he consulted his clipboard. “So it seems I owe you an apology, Jim. You found that needle in the haystack after all.”

“Well, I tried to tell....” The sentinel trailed off as his sight zeroed in on the sheet in the doctor’s hand. Abruptly he jumped out of his chair and approached the physician to look over his shoulder, certain that his eyes had been playing tricks on him.

“What is it?” Sandburg demanded, seeing the astonishment come over his friend.

“It’s Lucas,” Ellison said quietly, glancing at him before turning a hard gaze on the doctor. “You’re serious with this? They’re a match?”

“Not exact, but close enough,” Dr. Stern confirmed. “I’m presuming you know him?”

“Yeah.” The detective shook his head in disbelief. “I know him.”

“We need to have Mr. Lucas come in for a few routine tests and to sign a consent form. Then we can schedule the procedure. In the meantime, Blair, we’ll increase your chemo dosage...”

“Wait a minute,” Sandburg interrupted him. “I thought you were already giving me the highest dose you could without hitting toxicity.”

“That’s true, but now we need to cross that line,” the doctor explained. “Our goal here is to kill off your existing bone marrow. That way the donor marrow will have space to establish itself, and it will lessen the chance that your body’s going to reject it. And we need to make absolutely sure we do away with all the cancer cells, otherwise we’ll be doing this for nothing.”

“All right,” Blair agreed. Getting toxic doses of chemicals definitely wasn’t his idea of a good time, but what choice did he have? “Whatever you need to do. I’m ready.”

“Blair,” the doctor began gently. “I just want to make sure that you understand this is a dangerous procedure and that there are a lot of risks involved.”

“I know that,” Sandburg assured him. “Rejection, graft vs host disease, infection...You explained all the risks and I do understand. But all that aside, this is the best shot I have for coming out of this with a cure, right?”

“In all likelihood.”

“What does that mean?” Ellison asked. “What exactly are his odds here?”

“I’d say 40 percent.”

“And that’s enough to chance all these complications?” Jim scoffed. “What are his odds if he doesn’t have the transplant?” When the doctor hesitated, the sentinel quickly held up his hand. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

“I wish I could give you a guarantee,” Dr. Stern said, looking at each of them in turn. “But Blair’s come through everything we’ve thrown at him better than most. I don’t see the harm in being optimistic.” He tucked his clipboard under his arm and glanced at his watch. “I’m late for a meeting. I’ll make sure Mr. Lucas is contacted, and I’ll stop back in later this evening in case you have any questions.”

“You’re going to come through this just fine, Honey,” Naomi reassured her son as the doctor took his leave. “I know you will.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve defied the odds,” Sandburg reasoned, taking comfort in his mother’s calm gaze.

“So who is this Lucas that’s your match?”

“Oh, him?” Blair grinned, glancing across the room to where his friend was pacing in agitation. “That would be Jim’s new partner.”

“Wow,” Naomi murmured.

“It’s unreal,” Ellison muttered. “Unreal. What are the chances?”

“Nothing in the universe happens randomly,” Blair reminded him, exchanging a conspiratorial smile with his mother. “And maybe someday I’ll manage to convince you that there are forces at work out there.”

“I’ll tell you, Chief,” the sentinel declared. “I just took a big step toward joining the choir of believers.”

Receiving toxic levels of chemotherapy turned out to be even worse than it sounded. Any degree of tolerance Sandburg might have been enjoying quickly vanished as the drugs began wrecking havoc in his system. His entire digestive tract went into continuous spasm, and it seemed like not more than half an hour could pass without him needing either the basin or the bedpan. Every last bone in his body throbbed with a dull ache, and his mouth had erupted in ulcers. Sleep was an impossibility, and his energy was sapped quickly until he could do little more than lie in a ball of exhausted misery. He had tried to distance himself from it, but he had no concentration and even the peace of meditation was denied him. As his stomach rolled, Blair resolutely tried again to force himself to relax and focus, but it was no use. His breath became a pant as he broke out in a clammy sweat. The nausea hit him fast and hard and he knew there was no time for the call button to bring the nurse this time.

“Jim,” he whispered, screwing his eyes shut and unable to say more. But he didn’t have to. Immediately a pair of strong hands lifted him and he felt his sentinel slide in behind him, supporting him in the crook of his arm. Blair began to retch, bringing up a mouthful of bile into the basin his friend held for him. When his insides finally calmed, a cup of water was placed to his lips and he took a small sip. But he was afraid to swallow, and since his continuous IV ensured he wouldn’t get dehydrated, he spit the water into the basin as well after rinsing his mouth.

Ellison glanced up from the head lolling limply against his shoulder as Naomi approached, trading her the basin for the wet towel she held out to him. He gently wiped his friend’s face and neck before easing him back down against his pillows.

“Blair?”

Sandburg could hear the worry in his voice, but he lacked the strength to respond.

“Chief, are you still with me?”

Fear replaced worry, and the guide couldn’t leave his sentinel hanging so he licked his lips.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he whispered, not having the energy to open his eyes.

“Good.” Something was pressed against lips. “Come on, buddy. Try one of these. It’ll help.”

It was easier to comply than to resist, so Blair accepted the lozenge and sucked on it until the anesthetic cooled the burning of the sores in his mouth, aggravated after being bathed in hot stomach acid. Jim caught it in a tissue as he spit it back out, tossing it into the trash as he sought out Naomi’s gaze, his own helplessness laid bare in his tortured blue eyes.

“Can you do anything for him?” he asked quietly.

Naomi shook her head slightly, but she stepped forward and bent over her son, cupping his cheek with her hand.

“Blair, honey, listen to me. You need to rest. You have to let this go.”

“I can’t,” he told her, a sob in his voice. “Mom, I tried...”

“It’s ok,” she reassured him quickly. “I’ll help you.”

Ellison slowly backed up, retreating across the room to give them space and time. As she had promised the night she arrived, Naomi had remained unobtrusive, keeping her thoughts and opinions to herself and offering only soft words of support and encouragement. She was always right there to help her son with whatever he needed, but only when she was asked, and it appeared that she had truly made peace with herself and with Blair. And as Jim watched her help his guide relax into an uneasy slumber, he made his own peace with her. He still wasn’t entirely sure if there was anything to her mumbo jumbo or if it seemed to work because Blair believed it would, but it didn’t matter. At that moment he was feeling so lost and impotent that if she asked him to build a fire in the middle of the room and dance naked around it, he would have done it without hesitation if it would bring his friend a moment’s relief.

“Why don’t you go home, Jim?” Naomi suggested as he returned to his guide’s bedside. “You look like you could use some rest yourself.”

“Not yet,” he told her, shaking his head. Blair needed him close by. He hadn’t said so, but he didn’t have to. Ellison could see it in his eyes, and it was all he needed for his sentinel protective instinct to go into overdrive. There was no way he was going to leave until the hospital staff kicked him out.

“Then why don’t you go down to the cafeteria?” Ms. Sandburg urged. “You haven’t eaten a thing all day. Go on. I’ll stay here with him.”

Jim hesitated, but then he nodded in agreement and slipped out of the room. He wasn’t hungry, but he decided a quick walk around the hospital grounds to clear his head and take in a little fresh air would do him some good.

Naomi watched him go, then turned back to her son and carefully took his hand, frowning as she studied the dark spots in his aura. They weren’t all from his disease, of that she was fairly certain. She was no psychic, but it was apparent that Blair was sick in his soul as well as his body, and she couldn’t help wondering if the two were interconnected. And if they were, he wasn’t going to recover physically until he cured his emotional wounds. Naomi sighed, squeezing his hand gently and hoping that he would find the strength to face and deal with whatever was tormenting him, and let it all go. It was the only way he’d ever truly be healed.

Ellison stood back and watched as the petite nurse removed the empty IV bag that signaled the end of chemotherapy, but Sandburg was hardly celebrating. The treatment had done him in and nothing they’d given him to counter the side effects had seemed to make a dent.

“Allison,” the sentinel said quietly, catching the nurse’s arm as she turned to leave. “Please, can’t you do anything else? Look at him.”

“All right,” the nurse relented after a moment. “Let me go call Dr. Stern and see if he’ll authorize a little morphine to take the edge off.”

“Thank you,” Jim sighed, letting her go and moving back to his friend’s bed. Blair was contorted in a knot, his body rigid and literally quivering with agony. And the sentinel was at his breaking point, ready to snap with the frustration of not being able to do anything to ease his guide’s suffering. He knew he was losing it when he actually found himself wishing Naomi was there. The friend she’d been staying with had come down with a cold and she hadn’t wanted to come in and risk exposing her son to any germs. Dr. Stern adamantly agreed, for they had intentionally destroyed Blair’s immune system, and even the mildest bacteria or virus could potentially be fatal to him. Ellison suspected that Sandburg was beyond the point of his mother’s meditation and visualization tricks anyway, but it still would have been nice to have her there. At least to sit with her son while he went out to vent his anger by punching a few walls. But as it was he was on his own, so he decided to try the only thing he knew.

“All right, Chief,” he began calmly, launching into the lecture he’d heard a hundred times. “You know the drill. Close your eyes and relax, and focus. Remember our breathing exercises.”

Blair’s eyes were closed, but he cracked an eyelid to peer up at his friend. The irony of this little role reversal was not lost on him, and as his sentinel drew in a deep breath as an example he couldn’t help but chuckle. His laugh unexpectedly became a gag, and the breathing exercises were forgotten as Ellison quickly shoved the basin under his chin. But there was nothing to come up, and for long moments Sandburg convulsed with painful heaves that left him spent and in tears by the time they finally abated.

“Jim, I’m scared,” he confessed haltingly. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“You are not dying,” Ellison told him firmly as he sat down next to him on the bed. “Dr. Stern and the nurses say you’re doing fine. You’re going to see the other side of this, Chief, I promise you.” He slid an arm around his friend, rubbing his shoulder in comfort and giving it a slight squeeze. There was nothing he could do for his guide physically, so he offered the only thing he had to give. “Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?”

“Do you think they’d let you?”

“I don’t know,” the sentinel drawled. “Allison’s pretty tough. But on the other hand, I do have a gun.” Blair didn’t respond to his teasing, but his body seemed to relax ever so slightly as his eyes closed.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he whispered in a voice that broke Ellison’s heart.

“I’ll stay,” Jim whispered back, reaching down with his free hand, which Blair took gratefully in his own. “I promise.” He moved his other hand to his friend’s back, rubbing up and down with gentle strokes as he leaned over to murmur soothingly in his ear. “This is as bad as it’s going to get, Chief. And every second that passes is just that much closer to this all being over. So just hang in there. I’m right here with you buddy. We’ll ride this out together, ok?”

Blair nodded slightly, squeezing the hand in his tightly. His eyes were clenched shut against the pain so he never saw the tears glistening on his sentinel’s cheeks, although he had ample opportunity. Jim was holding him like a lifeline, and he was not about to let go just to wipe them away.

Sandburg sighed to himself as he heard the door open and the swishing sound of hospital scrubs that told him someone had entered. He couldn’t imagine what more they could possibly want from him, as he’d spent all day being poked and prodded and tested when all he’d wanted was to sleep. It was a hospital, after all. A place where a sick person should have been able to get some rest. Well, Blair was done. Whatever blood draws or tests awaited him could be done without his cooperation. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of his conscious participation and continued to keep up his pretense of sleep.

He’d been expecting to feel a blood pressure cuff being fitted around his arm, but instead a gentle hand rested against his shoulder. It was a touch he knew instantly, and Blair opened his eyes to meet the familiar blue gaze, hardly visible behind the cap and mask Ellison was wearing.

“Hey,” Sandburg exclaimed happily. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Blair assured him. “It’s just nice to see someone without a needle in their hand. I swear, they’ve taken so much blood out of me, I think they sucked out everything they put in.”

“I talked to the doctor and he said the procedure went well. How are you doing?”

“Me? I’m fine. I had the easy part, remember. Just another in a long line of IVs. Josh had the hard part. I heard they had to stick him almost 200 times to get enough marrow.”

“He was asleep the whole time,” Ellison reminded him. “He didn’t feel a thing.”

“Well I guarantee you he’ll feel it when he wakes up,” Sandburg said, well familiar with the discomfort following one aspiration. He couldn’t even imagine 200 of them at once. “Jim, you should go and check on him.”

“In a minute,” the sentinel told him. “It took me long enough to get disinfected and into this getup. I have to make it worth my while.”

“I’m serious, Jim.” Blair gazed up at his friend with utmost sincerity. “Josh may have just saved my life. Promise me that you’re going to take care of him.”

“It’s already in the works, Chief,” Ellison reassured him. “They’re going to release him later today and I’m going to take him home and babysit him tonight. He’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” Sandburg murmured, satisfied with that. “So tell me something else. How did you get in here?”

“What do you mean?”

“They said let weren’t going to let you in, remember? So why are you here? Did you sneak in, or did you flash the badge?”

“Neither,” the sentinel informed him loftily. “I charmed my way in.”

“Yeah,” Blair laughed. “We all know how charming and tactful you are.”

“I can be when I want to,” Ellison insisted. “And I’ve been watching you weasel your way in and out of things long enough to pick up a few tricks.”

“Whatever.” Sandburg rolled his eyes. “So is this a one time thing, or do you think you’ll be able to charm your way back now and then?”

“I don’t know if I can keep it up much longer,” Jim teased. “But I can always get a warrant if I have to.”

“Good thing I managed to charm Judge Perlman,” Blair grinned. “Otherwise I’d be inclined to doubt you.”

“The judge loves me,” the detective declared. “And on that note, I’m leaving.”

“Just have to have the last word, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” Ellison’s teasing grin softened into a fond smile behind the mask covering his face. “I’m going to go see how Lucas is holding up, and I want you to get some rest, all right?”

“Yeah,” Sandburg agreed. “But listen, man, before you go there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t really like it when he calls you ‘Jimbo’ do you?”

His guide looked exhausted and wasted and frail, but there was a hint of a sparkle to his blue eyes and the sentinel’s heart lifted to see that familiar smile.

“I hate it,” he replied. “Why do you think he does it?”

Blair was still chuckling a few minutes later as his friend slipped out the door. He hated to see him go, but his own heart lifted to know that he would be back. As he literally had no immune system, he’d been moved to a special isolation room and initially told he couldn’t have visitors. But he should have known his sentinel would find a way to get to him. And he had a feeling his visits were going to be needed.

Sandburg thrived on company and he always enjoyed being with people, collecting a wide and varied circle of friends over the years. While he also enjoyed some alone time now and then, his gregarious nature just wasn’t suited for the hermit life. Needless to say, the idea of being in isolation didn’t thrill him, but it was necessary and he resigned himself to dealing with it. However, he soon realized that would be easier said than done. His new room was sparse and bleak and anything that came in had to be sterilized first, so his diversions were limited. There was a large window with a speaker that would allow him to talk to people outside, but it made him feel like he was on exhibit so he had the curtain pulled shut. And anyone entering the room had to wear a gown, gloves, mask and cap, so he couldn’t even interact with the hospital staff on a personal, direct level. He’d only been there two days, and it was already starting to get to him.

Realizing his thoughts were depressing him, Blair tried to push them aside and focus on something else. On the positive side, he was at least feeling a little better. They’d brought out the big guns, and whatever they’d given him had pretty much knocked him out. The oblivion was such a sweet respite, and it gave him the strength to face the pain once he came back to the world. Dr. Stern had put him on a new heavy duty anti-nausea drug that helped, and he was able to manage the rest on his own. He didn’t feel good by any means, and he was so weak he was still essentially helpless. But the chaos in his body was abating and he was able to relax enough to fall asleep, so he considered it a massive improvement.

Now all that was left was to start building his strength back up as they waited to see if the transplant would take. Blair found it slightly amusing that it had been built up as such a complex and risky procedure and then it all boiled down to an IV bag. It was rather anti-climactic. But it was done. It was a little odd as he stopped and thought about it, that part of another person was now swimming around in his blood stream. But as a believer in the philosophy that all life forms were interconnected in a myriad of ways, it didn’t really bother him. On the contrary, he welcomed the invasion and could only hope his body was doing the same. Closing his eyes, he tried to envision what was happening inside, picturing the new marrow taking hold and getting to work.

“Come on little marrow cells,” he whispered. “Find a spot and make yourselves at home. You’ll like it in here, I know you will. I’m a fun guy, and I’ll take you to some cool places, I promise.”

Blair grinned as he realized what he was saying, suddenly glad he was in isolation for anyone overhearing him would be sure to have him committed. Writing it off as the meds making him a little goofy, he rolled over on his side and made himself comfortable and within minutes he was fast asleep.

“Hey, Scout,” Ellison greeted as he entered the room and approached his partner’s bed. “How you doing, man?”

“Flying high, Jimbo,” Lucas replied with a cheeky grin.

“I can see that,” the sentinel drawled, giving his stoned partner a once over. “The doc’s about ready to spring you, but I think I’ll be doing the driving on the way home.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Josh agreed. “Since I’m seeing two of you at the moment. As if one isn’t bad enough.”

Jim reached out and flicked him.

“Ow, you jerk off,” the young man whined, rubbing his arm. “Really nice bedside manner you have there.”

“I could do it again,” Ellison threatened him, repositioning his fingers. “On your hip this time.”

“All right, I take it back,” Lucas said quickly, rubbing a hand unconsciously over his bandaged hip. “Geez, I hope you don’t treat Sandburg this way. How the hell has he put up with you for so long anyway?”

“I wonder that myself,” Jim murmured, not entirely joking. “Listen, Scout, I just went up to see him and he wanted me to tell you how much he appreciates what you did. We both do. He thinks you saved his life.”

“Guess that means I’m his blessed protector now, too, huh?”.

“God knows he seems to need a staff of them,” the sentinel sighed. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and then met his partner’s eyes. “At the very least you gave him a shot. I don’t know how to thank you for that.”

“Well you can start by finding my pants,” Josh suggested merrily, but as Ellison turned away he stopped him with a hand on his arm. “And for the record, I was glad to do it.”

“I just hope you’re still singing that tune when the painkillers wear off,” Jim told him with a grin.

“Just get me dressed and out of here before they do,” Lucas commanded. “The girl in 4B is probably sunbathing out in the yard and that’s a sight just made for double vision.”

“Come on, Chief. Why don’t you settle down before you wear a trench in the floor?”

Sandburg heard his friend, but he didn’t acknowledge him as he kept up his agitated pacing in front of the window to his room. He was waiting on his test results, and there was no way he could do that patiently when his release from isolation depended on them. It was all he could do to keep it together, for he knew he’d never survive another night in confinement.

It hadn’t taken him long at all to start climbing the walls. Blair tried to tell himself that it was no different than the room he’d previously been in. That was isolation of sorts, for he was restricted to it, for the most part, and his visitation was limited to his mother and Jim. But there he wasn’t denied simple human contact. He could see people’s faces and be touched without a layer of latex in the way. And in the other room the door could at least stay open. Even if he didn’t go through it, it was still a reassurance to know that he could. A reminder that there was a world out there, and all he had to do was take a step into the hallway and he’d be back in it. He wasn’t trapped... not like here.

He tried to rationalize his situation, and to deal with his growing anxiety through meditation. Jim and Naomi came to see him every day, and even if they couldn’t come in with him they were at least able to talk to him through the window. Several of his friends stopped by, too, and their visits went a long way in helping to take his mind off things. But as the days passed and his hysteria grew, the claustrophobia began to overcome him and he’d almost broken down more than a few times when the decision was made to start him on an anti-anxiety drug. It didn’t get rid of his panic, but it helped him control it, and Blair was able to endure his imprisonment without losing it completely, although it was obvious he had about reached his limit.

The sentinel had about reached his limit as well. It was agonizing for him to have to watch his guide pacing back and forth like a caged animal, his fear lending strength to his weakened body. The isolation had been just as hard on him as it was for Sandburg, for once again he had been rendered impotent, forced to stand back and watch his friend’s torment and not able to do anything to help him. He had been granted a few brief, sporadic visits, but he knew that every time he stepped into that room he was risking exposing Blair to something that could make him sick or even kill him, so he kept them short and did not try to bully the hospital staff for more.

Ellison looked over at Naomi and saw the strain on her face, for she felt the same as he did. He reached out a hand and she silently took it. There was nothing to say, for Blair was beyond vocal consolation and in truth, both of them were also. All they could do was to hold onto each other and wait, until finally the double doors at the end of the hall opened and Dr. Stern appeared. He gave them an unreadable glance as he passed, going purposefully to the isolation room and opening the door.

“Blair, come on out.”

Sandburg shot out of the door like a jackrabbit bursting from it’s burrow, straight into his mother’s embrace. The sentinel slapped him on the back, noting that he was trembling and his heartbeat and respirations were too fast, but he figured his guide would be all right once he calmed down.

“His cell counts are up, which means the donor marrow is functioning, so I’m going to transfer him back to a regular room,” Dr. Stern explained to Jim, figuring that he was the only attentive audience. “His white count is still low, but right now the damage caused by the stress of being in there is outweighing his risk of infection. He’ll have to stay on the antibiotics, but I’m going to stop the transfusions and we’ll check him again in a few days.”

“You said something about the stress of being in there caused some damage?” Ellison asked in concern.

“He’s doing fine, Jim,” the doctor reassured him with a warm smile. “Great, in fact. If he keeps progressing like this, he’ll be home in no time.”

“Thanks, Doc,” the sentinel told him. “For everything.” He shook the physician’s hand, then turned to help his friend into the wheelchair that Darleen had brought, but the nurse and Naomi managed without him. “Did you hear that, Chief?” he asked as they started down the hall, leaving the isolation unit behind.

“Yeah,” Sandburg replied wearily. He hadn’t, really, but all that mattered was that he had been set free. Getting out of that room had set off a wave of relief that washed away all of his anxiety, but now that it was fading it left him drained. He just wanted to lie down in a room with an open door and fall asleep to the sounds of life and the feel of his mother stroking his cheek. Jim could give him the details later. Blair glanced up at his friend, who was walking next to his chair and wearing a big, goofy grin. “What?”

“I was just thinking,” Ellison smirked. “When Simon stuck me with Lucas, he told me it was a good match. I assumed he meant for me, but I guess he was for you, too.”

“Yeah.” Blair leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and propped his head up with his hand as he closed his eyes. He knew his sentinel would think he was rambling, but he couldn’t resist adding, “although I think the pep talk had a little something to do with it, too.”

Sandburg let himself into the loft, locking the door behind him and tossing his keys down on the small table.

“Jim?” he called out, assuming his roommate was home since the lights were on.

“Up here.”

Blair made his way over the nearest chair in the living room and plopped down, heaving a tired sigh. Every day he felt a little bit better, but he knew it was going to take awhile to build his stamina back up. He hated the fatigue, for he had always been a whirlwind multi-tasker and it bothered him immensely that his energy was so limited. Having dinner with his mother and dropping her off at the airport were activities that should not cause exhaustion. But they had, and before he gave into depression Sandburg had to remind himself that it was going to get better.

He checked his watch and decided it was too early for bed. And since he wasn’t up for anything else, he figured he’d put a movie on and rest for awhile. Blair dragged himself out of the chair and went to his room, changing into something more comfortable for lounging, but when he consulted his stack of videotapes he failed to locate the one he wanted. Puzzled, he did a quick search around the loft, and when he still came up empty he started up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing as he called out to his friend.

“Hey, Jim. I can’t find my tape of Strange Brew. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

A noncommital grunt was his only answer, so Sandburg kept going up, reaching the top of the stairs and panting slightly as he took in the sight of his roommate lying on his bed with an arm flung over his eyes.

“What are you doing up here, man? Are you ok?”

“Fine.” Ellison moved his arm and fixed his gaze on his friend. “Did you get Naomi to the airport all right?”

“Yeah, she’s going to call when she gets to California. Have you seen my tape anywhere?”

“Did you eat?”

“Yes,” Blair replied impatiently. “Do you know where my tape is?”

“No.” The sentinel draped his arm back over his eyes.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever’s bothering you.”

“It’s nothing,” the detective sighed, rubbing his hands over his face as he sat up. “It was just a rough day.”

“What happened?” Sandburg prodded gently as he came to sit beside his friend on the edge of the bed.

“We caught a homicide,” Ellison told him. “A girl. Sixteen years old. Really pretty.”

“How was she killed?”

“Never mind!” The sentinel was quiet for a moment before continuing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But you don’t need that in your head, man.” He sighed, glancing at his guide before looking away. “The weird thing is, I was standing there looking at what some sick bastard had done to this little girl, and I was glad that you weren’t there to see it. But at the same time, I couldn’t help wishing that you were there.”

“Why?” Blair asked in surprise.

“I don’t know.” Ellison shook his head slightly, trying to find words for something he didn’t know how to verbalize. “I guess because... Something like this reminds me that there is true evil out there. And that scares me. But it’s easier when I can look over at you and be reminded that there’s goodness and decency out there, too.”

“Jim,” Sandburg began quietly. “Do you talk to anyone? I mean, I don’t care how many dead bodies you see. The bad ones leave a mark, and you can’t sit on that. Something like this that’s so bad you won’t even describe it to me... You have to talk to someone. Josh or Simon or even a professional...”

“I don’t need a shrink, Chief,” the detective protested, holding up a hand.

“It might help.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine,” the sentinel assured him. “I can handle it. It’s just ones like this aren’t so easy to shrug off at night, you know.”

“I know,” Blair murmured. “Why don’t you come down and watch the movie with me? Take your mind off things.”

“I thought you couldn’t find your tape.”

“That’s because you did something with it,” Sandburg accused him confidently. “Come on, you can’t lie to me.”

“How can you possibly watch that movie again?” Ellison demanded in annoyance. “You’ve seen it 500 times now.”

“It’s a classic,” Blair insisted. “What have you got against the McKenzie brothers?”

“Because every time you watch that stupid thing you spend a week walking around here talking in a dumb Canadian accent and calling me a hoser.”

“Take off, I do not.”

“See! That’s exactly what I mean,” the sentinel yelped before he realized he’d been baited. With a sigh of defeat he got up and went to his dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out the tape which he tossed to his roommate. “Here. Go. Enjoy.”

“Beauty.” Figuring that he ought to get out of reach before he got smacked, Sandburg started for the stairs, but then he paused and turned back to his friend. “You know, Jim, goodness and decency are all around you. But you don’t need to look any further than inside yourself.”

Ellison sighed as Blair went downstairs. Once again the kid had underestimated himself. Yeah, there was goodness all around. And decency. The guys in MCU were model examples of it. But Sandburg had something else. There was a purity about him. An innocence of sorts. His heart was true, and he didn’t just embody goodness, he radiated it. There was a light within him that no evil could touch, no matter how much he was forced to endure. Shot at, kidnaped, threatened, beaten, betrayed, drowned, cancer... none of it made a dent. And when the hardened detective was confronted with a crime so heinous and gruesome that it kicked his cynicism to the curb and made the bile rise up in his throat as his heart jumped with horror, it was then that he sorely missed having that calming purity beside him to keep him grounded and sane.

Jim moved over to the railing, looking down from the loft to the living room below.

“Hey, Chief?”

A head popped up over the back of the couch.

“What?”

The sentinel had wanted to tell his guide how happy he was to have him there, home where he belonged. To tell him he didn’t want him to leave again. And to thank him for everything he did and everything he was. That his life was all the richer with him in it, and that he couldn’t imagine it without him. How he was counting the days until Blair was able to partner at his side once more. That he was sorry for all the times he took him for granted or didn’t show appreciation for anything. And to promise him that he’d try and do better. But above all, he wanted to tell his friend that he loved him.

But as always, the words didn’t come.

“Nothing,” he finally answered. “Forget it.”

Blair shrugged and went back to his movie. Jim sat back down on his bed, wondering not for the first time what was wrong with him and why he was so incapable of simply speaking what he felt so passionately in his heart. Maybe he really was a hoser.

The French doors opened and soft footsteps crossed the short distance to the bathroom, the door closing quietly behind him. It was the third time in an hour and a half, and the sentinel figured that warranted investigation. A bit reluctantly, he crawled out of his comfortable bed, pausing to slip on his robe before he went down the stairs.

“Are you all right?”

“God, Jim, don’t do that!” Sandburg gasped, obviously not having expected the shadowy figure waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom. He was startled, but the jump in his heart rate accelerated the beat that had been going too fast to begin with.

“Sorry,” Ellison tossed off, not really sounding sincere. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, fine,” Blair replied, his heart rate spiking again. “Why?”

“You’ve been up and down for a little while,” Jim pointed out, not bothering to add that he had listened in to the rummaging through the medicine cabinet and the fumbling with the aspirin bottle. “I was just wondering if there was anything wrong.”

“Is there anything you DON’T hear?” the younger man demanded in exasperation.

“You know the answer to that. So come on, Junior, spill it. What’s the matter?”

“I’m all right,” Sandburg sighed. “I just feel a little funny.”

“What do you mean, ‘funny’?” the sentinel interrogated, immediately becoming concerned. He crossed his arms over his chest while his guide fidgeted in front of him. “Answer me, Blair. What’s wrong? Do you have a fever?”

“Maybe a little,” he finally whispered.

“All right,” Ellison said, feeling his heart sink but trying not to show it. “Go get dressed and I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“No.” Blair’s head shot up and his eyes burned with intensity.

“Sandburg, you know what the doctor told you,” Jim cajoled patiently. “He said you had to come back to the hospital immediately if you started feeling sick or running a fever.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Blair growled with uncharacteristic resistance.

“I know, buddy,” the sentinel told him gently. “And I don’t want you to go back. It isn’t fair. But we have to go.”

He started up the stairs to the loft, pausing to look back down at his roommate who hadn’t moved and was glaring up at him defiantly.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Chief,” Ellison informed him firmly. “If you want me to drag you kicking and screaming out of the door in your pajamas, that’s fine by me. But one way or another, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Blair knew he was losing, and he had to struggle to fight back tears of frustration and anger.

“Can’t we at least wait until morning?” he asked sullenly.

“You’ve got ten minutes,” Jim called out as he continued up to the loft to change. “So move your ass!”

Left with no other options, Sandburg complied, but he worked himself into a major sulk, silently staring daggers at the world as he was driven to the hospital and quickly admitted. The detective spent the night as the staff ran tests and tended to his partner, but he chose to keep his vigil in the waiting room, not sure that his suddenly ill-tempered friend even wanted him there at all. But in the early morning hours, approaching the time when he’d have to leave to return home and shower and get ready for work, Ellison rapped softly on the door of his guide’s room and slipped inside.

“You still mad at me?”

“No,” Blair sighed, running a hand wearily over his face. “No, you were right. And I’m sorry I acted like such a baby. I was just... Just hoping that this would be it, you know?”

“I know,” Jim whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I was, too.”

“I just can’t help wondering if this is it,” Sandburg muttered. “What if I’m never going to get better and my life is just something that I try to fool myself with between hospital stays? I can’t keep doing this, Jim. It’s no way to live. I don’t know, man. Maybe I really was supposed to die that day at the fountain after all.”

“Blair, I know how hard this is for you,” the sentinel tried to console him. “To end up back here again after you’ve been doing so well. But you just picked up a bug somewhere, Chief. With everything you’ve already been through, this should be a breeze in comparison. Couple of days on antibiotics, that’s all. We can get through this, right?”

“Right.”

But there was no enthusiasm in the flat tone, no determination and no spirit.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I appreciate that, Jim, but no. It’s bad enough I kept you up half the night. Go on in to work.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Sandburg insisted. “You’ve already missed way too much over me.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Ellison told him with a grin. But he rose and slipped on his jacket, nodding at the phone next to the bed. “You know to call if you need anything, right?”

“Yeah,” Blair murmured. “Thanks.”

“Try and get some rest, Chief,” Jim urged him, squeezing his shoulder. “I’ll grab a few thing for you from the loft and I’ll come back when my shift’s over.”

The sentinel’s shoulders had a weary slump to them as he left the hospital, feeling every bit as discouraged as his guide did. Almost three months has passed since the transplant, all without complications. Enough to lull them into a false sense of security and make them believe that the ordeal was over. And even though the admitting doctor had seemed optimistic that a heavy dose of antibiotics would clear things up, it still filled Jim with rage to have to leave his friend yet again in that place. How much more did the kid have to suffer? Surely he’d been through enough by now. What had that sweet, pure, loving, kind soul ever done to have deserved this? Ellison sighed as he climbed into his truck and slammed the door behind him. He knew Sandburg was strong, but even the strongest of men had their breaking point. And he could only pray that Blair had enough fight left in him for one more round.

Once Simon learned that Sandburg was back in the hospital, he graciously allowed his best detective to cut out a little early. Ellison left the station and went straight to Cascade General, having already packed a bag for his friend when he stopped by the loft early that morning. However, when he arrived at Blair’s room he found it empty and seemingly unoccupied, judging by the stripped bed. In just a few long strides the detective made his way back down the hallway to the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” he greeted the nurse who was stationed there. “Where is Sandburg?”

“Who?” she asked, confused.

“Blair Sandburg,” he told her impatiently. “He was in room 406 this morning.”

She began to flip through her charts as Ellison drummed his fingers on the edge of the desk, trying to mute his frustration. As Blair was no longer technically a cancer patient, he hadn’t been admitted to that ward and was no longer under Dr. Stern’s care. And the sentinel found himself sorely missing the good doctor and his kind staff as he speculated that he could probably find his guide faster using his senses than the nurse before him was doing with her forms.

“Here it is,” she said finally, trailing a manicured nail down a computer printout. “They moved him up to the ICU.”

“ICU?” Jim repeated, feeling his heart skip a beat. “Why? What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “The staff up there will be able to fill you in.”

She started to give him directions but he abruptly turned and trotted off, already knowing the way. He got in the elevator and rode two floors up, making his way to Intensive Care where he was instructed to have a seat. Ellison’s frustration quickly became anger as all his requests for information were brushed aside. He was just trying to find out what had happened to his friend, and being repeatedly told to sit down and wait soon had him butting heads with the nurse behind the desk. It was only when she threatened to call security and have him thrown out that he went and sat down, picking up a magazine and glaring at her over the top of it. He was about on his last nerve by the time Dr. Meadows came out and introduced herself as she took the chair next to him.

“Mr. Sandburg’s fever spiked drastically this morning,” she explained. “It was decided to transfer him to our unit where his condition could be better monitored.”

“Why the hell didn’t anyone call me?” Jim demanded.

“Mr. Sandburg told us that he didn’t want anyone contacted,” the doctor answered.

“I need to see him.”

“I’m sorry, detective, but that’s not possible right now.”

“Why?” Ellison asked, a feeling of dread coming over him. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

“He just had a massive seizure,” she said sympathetically. “It’s not an uncommon side effect of a high fever. But he’s unconscious at the moment.”

“Oh, God,” the sentinel croaked, straining to get the words out of a throat that had suddenly gone bone dry. “Is he going to be ok?”

“He’s not responding to the broad spectrum antibiotic. We’re running tests to try and isolate the infectious agent, and if we can get a lock on that we may be able to give him a more effective drug. In the meantime, we’re working to keep him hydrated and keep his temp down. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Please,” Jim begged her, all traces of his former aggression gone. “You have to let me see him.”

“Let me go and make sure he’s stabilized,” the doctor bargained. “And then I’ll allow a short visit.”

Ellison nodded, letting out a long breath as she rose and disappeared back into the ICU. He was worried about his friend, but not just in regards to his physical condition. The fact that Blair hadn’t wanted him called when his condition deteriorated was bothering him more than he cared to think about. All the other times when things got bad, Sandburg had wanted him... needed him there. And he couldn’t help wondering if maybe it was a sign that his guide had had all he could take and that he didn’t want anyone around to hold on to him when he decided to let go. It was a thought that chilled him to his very soul, for if Blair didn’t fight, then he wouldn’t live. And that was a prospect he couldn’t bear to face.

“I’ll give you a few minutes,” the nurse offered, pulling the curtain aside. She glanced at the various machines and made a notation on the chart before moving on to check the other patients in the wing. “There’s a chair over by the wall.”

Jim stood for a moment, looking down at his still, silent friend. Sandburg was unconscious, which they told him was to be expected after a massive seizure. An oxygen mask covered his face, and the sentinel didn’t need to be able to read the equipment to know that his guide’s heartbeat was slow and sluggish. Glancing around, he spied the chair and pulled it over to the side of his friend’s bed, yanking the curtain shut behind him. He took Blair’s hand between his own, squeezing it gently as he sat down, leaning forward until his lips were almost touching Sandburg’s ear.

“Stay, please guide me,” he sang softly, calling to mind the words of one of his favorite songs by Santana. “I need your love, that I may see. Below, above, and all around is all confusion. You’re the only one that breaks the spell of all illusion.”

His voice broke on the last note and Ellison sat back in the chair, taking in a long breath and giving the hand in his another squeeze, frightened by the amount of heat that was radiating off of the younger man.

“I’m here, Blair,” he murmured. “Right here with you. So don’t throw in the towel just yet, ok? Please, just stay with me, buddy. Don’t you go where I can’t come find you.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal a familiar figure, much to the sentinel’s relief.

“Simon. What are you doing here?”

“Bringing you this,” Banks replied as he took a seat next to his friend and handed him a large cup of gourmet coffee. “I know what the vending machine stuff is like here.”

“Thank you,” Ellison murmured, although he was more grateful just to see a friendly face.

“How’s he doing?”

“Not good,” the detective replied quietly, taking off the lid and sipping the hot drink. “They’re hitting him with everything they can, but he’s not responding because of the drugs suppressing his immune system. And if they stop those, he could reject the transplant.”

“Did you call Naomi?” Simon asked.

“I tried calling the uncle’s house in California, but I didn’t get an answer. I left a message to call your number, since I can’t use my cell in here and it’s going to be hard to get hold of me otherwise. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. But I haven’t heard from anyone yet.”

“Seth might be making a run in his rig,” Ellison speculated. “God only knows where Naomi is. I thought about checking into Big Sur to try and find her, but I wouldn’t know where to start. And I don’t think it’s going to matter, anyway. Unless she’s on her way now, I don’t think she’d make it here in time.”

“Is it really that bad?” Simon murmured, a sick feeling welling up inside him. He’d just seen the kid a few days ago. Typical laughing, chattering, happy Sandburg. It was almost impossible to comprehend that he was now so ill, apparently in very real danger of losing his life.

“They say he can’t go on like this much longer,” Jim sighed, setting the cup down on the table beside him. “Either he’ll start to respond, or...”

“How are you doing?” the captain asked, looking the sentinel over critically and seeing his anguish and the torment in his eyes.

“I’m half out of my mind,” Ellison confessed, rubbing a hand over his face. “They just asked me what to do in case he... You know, what measures they should take to keep him alive. And I don’t know what to tell them, Simon!”

“You talked about this, didn’t you?” Banks reminded him. “What did Sandburg say to do?”

“He just said that I’d know when it was time,” Jim said in frustration. “But I don’t know! I have no idea what he’d want me to do. I know that I want them to do everything they can. But what right do I have to decide that? I can’t look at this objectively, Simon. I’m just afraid that my own selfish feelings are going to cloud my judgement, and I’m going to put the kid through more pain and suffering just because I don’t have the balls to let him go.”

“If you want my opinion,” Simon began quietly, “I think you’re underestimating yourself. Blair didn’t choose you to be his power of attorney on a whim. He knew that you wouldn’t give up on him until it was hopeless, and he also knew that you would have the strength to say when it was enough. Just like you know him, Jim, and you’ll know what he’d want to do if the time comes. You just have to do what your heart tells you to do.”

Ellison nodded, appreciating his friend’s support and the warm hand on his shoulder, but he found no comfort in his words. He couldn’t very well listen to a heart that was broken.

As the nurse filled out the chart, she glanced over at the man seated next to the bed, watching as he repeatedly bathed his friend with tepid water. He was only supposed to have a brief visit and he’d already been there for an hour, but she just didn’t have the heart to send him away. The patient was still unconscious, so it wasn’t as if he could tire, and the detective was remaining quiet and unobtrusive so the kind nurse decided to let him stay. Mr. Sandburg didn’t have much left, so she didn’t see the harm in letting him spend his last hours in the company of his friend, even if he was only subconsciously aware. The two of them were very obviously very close, and she smiled as she watched the strong man exhibiting such tenderness and compassion in his diligent and dedicated ministrations.

"Mr. Sandburg is lucky to have you for a friend,” she told him, touching him on the arm as she left to go make her rounds.

"Yeah," the sentinel muttered under his breath, tossing the sponge in his hand back into the bowl and setting it aside. "Lucky."

He could think of a few other words to summarize their relationship. To the nurse’s eyes, he probably did look like a great guy, caring so diligently for his dying friend. Little did she know that he was really a grouchy bastard most of the time. Taking Sandburg for granted, pushing him away, cutting him down because he just couldn’t tell him how he really felt about him. He’d made a lot of mistakes and had gotten a lot wrong and had a habit of using opportunities when Blair was hurt or sick or grieving to compensate for the times he’d failed to stand up for his friend. And it had to stop. Sandburg deserved his consideration and respect and love all the time, not just when he was compromised. It was past time for him to start being the friend that Blair had always been to him.

"Lucky," Ellison repeated bitterly. He sighed, rubbing a hand wearily over his brow before reaching down to cover his friend's hand with his own. "You make it through this, Chief, and I promise you, your luck is going to change."

But that was if he made it through. His heartbeat was erratic and slow and he was having trouble breathing. And he was so unbelievably hot. Jim wrung the sponge out and bathed him once more with the lukewarm water before picking up his limp hand and squeezing it between his own as he studied his friend carefully.

“It’s not time, is it, Chief?” he whispered. “Simon was right. You knew what you were doing when you put all this in my hands. Because you knew that I would never just sit back and let you go like this. Not after what happened with Alex at the fountain.”

The memories came back fast and hard, unexpectedly stealing his breath away with a painful gasp. Blair lying on the grass in a still, silent, soggy heap. Not breathing. No pulse. The EMTs telling them it was no use. No hope. His partner, his friend, his guide... was gone. And it was all his fault.

“You can’t leave me like that again, buddy,” the sentinel whispered, pulling his chair as close as he could get to the bed. He kept one hand tightly in his guide’s unresponsive grasp and moved the other hand to rest on top of his friend’s burning forehead as he leaned in to murmur into his friend’s ear. “Please, Blair, I need you. I know you’re not ready to give up yet. After everything we’ve been through together, you aren’t going to go out like this. So you just hold on. I’ve got you, buddy, so just keep holding on.”

Jim dropped his head down to the edge of the bed, closing his eyes as he began to pray. To God, to Buddha, to Incacha, to Fate... whatever benevolent force was out there and looking after his friend.

“Please,” he whispered. “Just help him. Whatever strength I have, give to him. Just don’t let him die.”

He was afraid to break contact, scared that if didn’t hang on then Blair wouldn’t either. So he kept his hold on his friend, imagining he was the lifeline that was keeping his guide anchored to the world. And he began to will his strength and health and vigor into his friend, envisioning it surging through his arms and entering the wasted body in his hands until he could have almost sworn he felt his limbs tingling. Smiling a bit at the flight of fancy that practically had Naomi’s name on it, he nonetheless kept up the illusion until fatigue finally overcame him.

Ellison jolted awake as a hand shook his shoulder. He raised his head, focusing blurrily on the nurse beside him and immediately opening his mouth to insist he wasn’t leaving before she could even suggest it. But to his surprise she reached out, placing a finger against his lips to shush him as she gestured with her other hand. As she indicated, Jim’s gaze swept to the right, meeting a pair of dazed blue eyes that were gazing back at him.

“Hey, buddy,” he managed to choke out, squeezing the hand that was still in his grip and feeling his heart soar as a slight flutter was reciprocated. “How you doing?”

“See if you can keep him awake for a few minutes,” the nurse suggested. “I’m going to go page Dr. Meadows.”

Blair tried to speak and found he was unable to form words, but they weren’t needed. As always, Jim seemed to instinctively know what he wanted and removed the oxygen mask, holding a straw to his lips. After a few sips of water, he set the cup aside and wrung the sponge out again, wiping the beads of sweat from his friend’s face. Sandburg was still hot, but the sentinel could tell his fever had come down quite a bit. He gave him another drink and then took his hand again, his relief plainly evident in the giant grin plastered on his face.

“Welcome back, Chief,” he murmured. “I have to say, you really had me scared with this one. I was actually starting to think you weren’t going to come back.”

“Didn’t want to,” Sandburg whispered raggedly.

“I know,” Jim told him, tears stinging his eyes as his grin got even larger. “But I just couldn’t let you go.”

“Knew you wouldn’t.” Blair smiled, love shining brightly from his blue eyes. “Thanks...for holding on to me.”

When Ellison returned to the loft he made a beeline straight for his bed. He had stayed at the hospital until his friend’s temperature returned to normal and he was sure that Blair was out of immediate danger, but then he decided to follow the staff’s advice as they urged him to go home and get some rest. On the way he’d called Simon, who promised to spread the word that Sandburg had managed to survive his latest crisis as he literally ordered his detective to get some sleep. Which Jim was definitely looking forward to doing, as his vigil had left him mentally and physically exhausted.

And yet, sleep would not come. The sentinel found that he couldn’t relax, his mind racing with too many things. As he’d sat in the waiting room or even at his friend’s bedside, he’d had a lot of quiet time with nothing to do but think and reflect. On his relationship with his guide, the good and the bad. Their past, their present, and their future. It was the future that was cloudy, and it had been some time since he was able to see it clearly. He had been writing that off as an effect of Blair’s illness, but what he had come to realize was that the future is formed from the past. Which meant they could have no future together, not the way he wanted, until they both stopped ignoring and denying what had happened between them. It was Ellison who had opted for the route of avoidance, but he realized that no matter how much time passed these buried feelings were never going to go away. They were always going to be there, creating a barrier between them and the only way to knock it down was to deal with the ghosts of the past. Really deal with them, instead of just sweeping them under the rug and tactfully pretending they didn’t exist. And to do that, Jim knew where he had to start.

Getting up, he went to his closet and pulled out a box that was shoved way in the back. Hidden, in actuality. He removed the lid and tossed aside a few odds and ends that further hid the main content. Sandburg’s dissertation. The original, and the only copy still in existence. Blair had given it to him after his press conference, telling him that it was his to do with whatever he wished. Ellison’s first instinct was to burn the thing, since that would facilitate the denial they’d both entered into so they could live in the fantasy world where the whole mess had never happened. But something had stopped him. He couldn’t in good conscience destroy his friend’s life’s work, even if he couldn’t ever let it see the light of day again. So he’d hidden it away, the proverbial skeleton in his closet. But the specter of it had haunted him every day since, and Jim realized there was only one way to lay it to rest for good. He climbed back into bed, propping himself up on his pillows as he began to read.

It was a good bit later when the sentinel wandered downstairs. He took a leisurely shower, relaxing under the hot water and letting it soothe his tired muscles. Then he shaved and went back upstairs to get dressed before coming back down and fixing himself something to eat. After he’d cleaned up the kitchen, he helped himself to another mug of black coffee and had a seat in the living room. He sat for a long time, tracing his hand over the cover of the document in his lap. Then he sighed and began to read it again, this time with an objective mind and an open heart.

“That smells good.”

“It should,” Jim said as he looked out into the living room to see that his friend was finally awake and blinking at him over the back of the couch. “It’s your recipe.”

“Where’d you get the fish?” Blair asked, not bothering to hide a broad yawn.

“I got lucky this afternoon.”

Sandburg frowned in confusion, shaking off the last vestiges of slumber to realize that the cabin was bright from artificial light that was reflected in the dark windows. The last thing he remembered was stretching out on the couch as the detective cleaned up from lunch, intending to just rest for a minute or two before they hit the lake.

“Have I really been asleep all day?” he muttered in disbelief.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Ellison lectured him. “Considering you were nearly dead two weeks ago, I don’t think you should begrudge yourself a little rest.”

“A little is fine,” Blair responded wryly. “But this is just a step above a coma.”

“Nothing like a little food to build up your strength,” the sentinel told him as he set a steaming platter of trout on the table. “So come and get it.” He watched his guide struggle up and weakly make his way to the kitchen. Sandburg had gone to bed as soon as they’d arrived the night before and had slept late into the morning, only spending a few hours awake before crashing on the couch for the rest of the day. “I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Because you obviously weren’t up for this trip this soon,” Jim answered with a slight air of exasperation, anticipating that his stubborn friend was going to try the “I’m fine” game with him. But Blair just shrugged slightly as he took a sip of water.

“Maybe I’m not up for fishing, but I can sleep here as well as at home. And it’s nice having a change of scenery.” He glanced around the Lucas family cabin briefly before meeting his friend’s steady gaze. “I like it here. Makes me feel peaceful, especially after being in the hospital, and you know that. So I appreciate the escape, Jim, and I’m glad we did this.” The sentinel sighed and looked away, and his guide knew that something was wrong. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t suggest this trip for selfless reasons, Chief,” Ellison confessed. “I had an ulterior motive.”

“Which is...?”

“I read your thesis.”

“Oh.” It was Sandburg’s turn to look away uncomfortably.

“Yeah.” Jim sighed again, running a hand over the back of his neck. “And I think it’s time to finally have that talk that we’ve been avoiding for far too long.”

“So you thought this would be a good place to do it?”

“Well, there’s no distractions and we’ve got a whole forest out there if we need to go to our separate corners for a breather.” The sentinel studied his guide, taking in his pale complexion and the lines of exhaustion around his eyes. “But we can do it another time. When you’re feeling stronger.”

“No,” Blair said quietly. “Let’s do it now.”

“We’ve waited this long....”

“Too long,” Sandburg argued. “You said it yourself. Look, Jim, I’m not good for much else right now but I’m more than capable of carrying on a conversation. So let’s just do it and get it over with and then we can put it all behind us once and for all.”

“You have to promise me you’ll let me know if you need a break,” Ellison bargained, wanting this thing to be gone from between them every bit as much as his friend did, and finally understanding that it never would unless they dealt with it.

“I promise.”

“Ok.”

They went back to their meal, but neither man ate much. Blair’s appetite had been lacking since his illness and Jim was too keyed up to bother, his former hunger driven away by a sudden anxious anticipation. Before long they both gave up the pretense and Ellison started to clean up the kitchen, but Sandburg had gotten his commitment and wasn’t about to let him stall.

“Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

The sentinel wasn’t so sure, as the fall evening had a chilly bite to it. But Blair silently theorized that the quiet woods would have a calming effect on both of them and the darkness would shield them and make it easier to talk about difficult subjects, so he insisted.. Jim capitulated, starting a roaring blaze in the fire pit and carrying two deck chairs over to place before it, fussing at his guide for not dressing warmly enough when he appeared with two mugs of hot cider. To shut him up, Sandburg compliantly draped the heavy blanket he was handed over his knees which satisfied Ellison enough to take his drink and ease down into his own chair. They were ready to begin, but long minutes passed with only the crackling flames breaking the silence. Blair knew the looming discussion was necessary, but he suddenly found himself uncomfortable with beginning it. Jim had been so amazing, a tower of strength and support and kindness ever since he’d first been diagnosed with cancer. In light of all that, it seemed inappropriate to reproach him now for things that happened what seemed a lifetime ago. But there was one thing he had to know.

“So what did you think?” he finally got up the courage to ask. “About the thesis.”

“It was hard for me, Chief,” Jim admitted, his gaze captivated by the fire. “Really hard.”

“Because?”

“Because it’s not easy to look at myself like that. Completely exposed with the spotlight shining full on all my flaws. My weaknesses... my failures. And it’s not easy knowing that’s how you see me.”

“It isn’t as bad as you think, Jim,” Sandburg said patiently. “You’re reading too much into it and seeing negativity that isn’t really there. You have to look at it objectively.”

“I tried,” Ellison told him. “And I can’t. It’s all about me, Chief. It’s personal. Everything I do and say and think picked apart and analyzed. I can’t read about that objectively, and to be honest, it hurts that you could write it objectively.”

“I’m a scientist, Jim,” Blair pointed out. “It’s my job to be objective. There’s no room in research for personal feelings. Not if you don’t want to bias your results.”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Jim continued. “You get so caught up in the academic side of things that you forget you are personally involved and you completely lose sight of our friendship. And you forget that I’m a real person with something to hide instead of a project for you to put on display for the world. If you weren’t so lost in data collection, you wouldn’t have put my name all over your thesis. You could have made something up, or given me a number or called me ‘the subject’. Instead of waving ‘James Ellison’ around like a red flag. And you wouldn’t have left it around for Naomi to find.”

“I didn’t leave it around,” Sandburg protested. “The hard copy was locked in a strong box. I never thought she’d go into my laptop looking for the file.”

“What about your introductory chapter?” Ellison alleged. “You left it lying there in the middle of the squad unattended for anyone to pick up.”

“But it wasn’t picked up by ‘anyone’,” Blair countered. “You picked it up. After I asked you not to read it. THAT was a violation of friendship and trust.”

“I said I was sorry...”

“And I don’t always put academics first,” Sandburg interrupted, his reservations about reproaching his friend fading away as he found himself in the position of defending himself from an attack. “If I did, then I would have gone to Borneo. That would have been a big time career move for me. And if I had gone then maybe all this wouldn’t have happened and I might still have a career now. But I turned it down because finding a sentinel was always my dream, and I felt an obligation to keep working with you and to help you with your senses. And even now I don’t regret it, because at the time I was doing right by my friend.”

“What about Alex?” Jim asked quietly. “Were you doing right by me when you didn’t tell me about her? Turning me into some kind of experimental guinea pig without my knowledge?”

“Hey, I tried to tell you about her but you shut me out,” Blair retorted. “I guess it was wrong to keep her a secret from you, but you weren’t really hearing a lot of what I was saying back then. And speaking of that period, were you doing right by me when you kicked me out of the loft?”

“I lost my head,” Ellison admitted, a bit shamefully. “I was flying on instinct and I got a little out of control. I couldn’t help it.”

“I know. I keep telling myself that.” Sandburg turned in his chair to gaze at his friend’s profile, half obscured by the darkness. “But that’s small consolation when I remember how you kissed Alex on that beach. It just seems like some things should override instinct. She killed me, Jim! And there you were, practically humping her. And doing everything in your power to protect her. The woman who murdered me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Jim whispered, heartfelt regret and sorrow in his hushed words. “It was all such a blur. The instinct was just driving me on...”

“Was it instinct talking before the fountain, when you said you wanted to call it quits? Or how about when you accused me of betrayal when the media got my thesis? After all we’d been through together, and you really thought I would do something like that to you?”

“What was I supposed to think?”

“That I was your partner and your friend and I’d never sell you out so there had to be another explanation!”

“I shouldn’t have accused you of deliberately putting it out there,” Jim conceded. “But a document with my name all over it and a detailed description of my personal life was suddenly out there for the world to see. My abilities were outed, my privacy was violated, and the bottom line was that it was all on you!”

The sentinel rose and turned his back on his guide, taking a few steps away from the fire. Blair suddenly felt a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature and he pulled his blanket up over his chest as he curled his legs underneath him with a shiver, his eyes locked onto his friend. But Jim didn’t go stalking off into the night as he expected. He merely stood, looking up at the stars as long minutes slowly ticked by. Then he turned back and added another chunk of wood to the fire, stirring up the embers so it would catch. He reclaimed his seat, staring at the fire as he repeatedly laced and unlaced his fingers while Sandburg replayed their conversation over in his mind.

“I guess maybe both of us lost sight of our friendship and violated each other’s trust, huh?” he ventured finally.

“Yeah.” Ellison turned to look at him, meeting his gaze for the first time. “So where does that leave us?”

“Well, it’s obvious we both have some deep seated, unresolved feelings about all of this,” Blair hypothesized. “But it’s also obvious that we care about each other and that we both want to get past this. Maybe if we both apologize and forgive each other? And really mean it, not just as an empty gesture. Then we can start over clean. Because the mistakes we’ve both made, huge as they were, dwarf in comparison to all we’ve gotten right over the years.”

“I’m sorry, Chief,” Jim blurted out suddenly. “For all the times I was controlling and untrusting. And I’m sorry for pushing you away and kicking you out of the loft, and betraying you with Alex. And I’m sorry if I ever gave you the feeling that you weren’t the most important person in the world to me, because you are.”

Blair was glad of the darkness as tears welled up in his eyes, even though he knew that it hid nothing from his sentinel. It took him a minute before he felt his voice was steady enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for putting academics ahead of you, and for not protecting you.”

“But you did,” Ellison said softly, an image of his friend’s press conference flashing through his mind. “When it really mattered.”

“So did you,” Sandburg told him. “I wouldn’t even be alive today if it wasn’t for you. Because of what happened at the fountain, and with the cancer. I fought the good fight, man, but you brought me through it, Jim. I couldn’t have made it through this without you.”

“Well, as hard as you make my life sometimes, Chief,” Jim grinned, “I can’t imagine it without you.”

“So is all forgiven?”

The sentinel closed his eyes briefly, recollecting everything bad that had happened between them. He had felt betrayed and hurt and angry, but looking at it all as objectively as he could, he realized that whatever mistakes had been made on either side, none of them had come from a malicious place or an intent to inflict harm or misery. So truthfully, there was nothing to forgive. He opened his eyes, hoping that his guide would be able to see the sincerity shining from his eyes in the dim firelight.

“Yep,” he replied lightly, but with conviction. And he meant it. The past was the past, and now that it was finally dealt with, it was behind them for good and they were free to move on.

“Me, too.” Blair was quiet for a reflective moment. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Relatively painless, actually.” He glanced uncertainly at his friend. “Do we need to hug here or something?”

“How about we just go in and call it a night?” Jim suggested with a chuckle.

They headed inside, and Sandburg insisted on helping his friend clean up the kitchen from dinner. As they worked, they laughed and joked, both feeling an immense relief to finally have the last bit of tension gone from between them. When the chores were done they settled in front of the tv with a bag of popcorn and the rest of the cider, but before long Blair became unable to resist the pull of his fatigue and he declared his intent to turn in for the night. He started for his room, but Jim rose and followed him, catching him in the doorway.

“Chief, I forgot to tell you something. I’m sorry that I never said ‘thank you’.”

“For what?”

“Well, for anything,” the sentinel told him with a slight grin, knowing that he often took his guide’s help and friendship for granted.

“Maybe you didn’t verbally,” Blair said warmly. “But you’ve said it in a hundred different ways.”

“Still, sometimes you need to hear the words, right?” Jim continued softly. “Just like sometimes you need to hear that no matter what happens between us and no matter what I might say or do out of paranoid territorialism, you’re my best friend and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Blair whispered, feeling the sting of tears in his eyes again but not caring this time. Jim Ellison was a man of action, and he spoke through his actions. All his kindnesses and gentleness and compassion was relayed through the things he did, and those actions let Blair know that he was loved. But Jim was right: sometimes the words still needed to be heard, and Blair didn’t realize how much he’d wanted to hear them until he did. He stepped forward and melted into his friend’s warm embrace, feeling like everything he’d suffered over the last few years was all worth it if it led him to this moment in time. All the unconscious hurt and resentment he didn’t even know he’d been carrying was gone, and with that hug the last remnants of the wall between the sentinel and guide came crashing down forever.

“Hey, Simon.” There was obvious surprise in the young man’s greeting as he opened the door to find the captain there, but pleasure as well. “Jim’s not here.”

“I hope not, since I just left him at the station,” Banks said wryly. “I’m looking for you. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Is everything all right?” Blair asked quickly. “Is something going on with Jim?”

“He’s fine and there’s nothing wrong,” Simon assured him. Sandburg opened the door wider in invitation, but the captain hesitated. “Actually, I was wondering if you were free for lunch.”

“Well, my calendar’s booked pretty solid,” Blair told him with heavy sarcasm. “But I think I can manage to squeeze you in.”

“Then get your coat and let’s move it,” Banks ordered him with gruff authority. “I have a meeting with the mayor at 2:00.”

But despite his initial claims of urgency, Simon engaged his younger companion in small talk as they drove to a nearby Mediterranean restaurant of Blair’s choosing and found a table and ordered lunch. It wasn’t until they were nearing the end of the meal that the captain brought up the reason for his visit.

“How are you feeling these days, Sandburg?” he asked, focusing on his former observer with his keen detective’s sight, seeking the truth. “I mean, really?”

“It’s an uphill battle,” Blair answered with a shrug of resignation. “It’s hard having so many limitations, but every day is a little better. I’m getting there. The good news is that all my blood tests are coming back normal. It takes five years before they officially call you cured, but Dr. Stern thinks there’s every reason to be optimistic. And I have a good feeling, you know? But what’s this about, Simon?”

“The mayor has come up with a new program designed to foster relations between the public and the police and provide a public service at the same time. She wants to offer a series of free classes that the public can attend. Things like life saving and defensive driving and a bunch of after school activities to keep some of the at risk kids out of trouble.”

“Jim said something about that,” Sandburg mused. “He was thinking about taking an intermural basketball team. Personally, I think it’s a great idea.”

“You wouldn’t think so if you were the one in charge of recruiting volunteers to staff all these programs,” Simon groaned theatrically.

“Maybe not.” Blair grinned at the image of Banks and his legendary “finesse” attempting to coerce the officers and detectives at the station into donating their time. “But what’s this got to do with me.”

“I’m having a hard time finding the right person for one particular class,” the captain revealed, getting to the point. “And I think you’d be perfect for it.”

“Me?”

“It’s an adult education class for people who want to get their GEDs,” Simon continued. “Three nights a week. And since this one is a little bit more involved than the others, a bigger commitment that requires a specialized skill, there is a small stipend provided. There’s a prerequisite training program, but I think they’d probably wave that in your case, given your academic history. I know teaching high school basics is a little beneath you...”

“I’ll do it,” Sandburg announced.

“You should take some time to think about this,” Banks cautioned him.

“There’s nothing to think about, Simon,” Blair told him, looking at him with an earnest yearning in his blue eyes. He was being offered the chance to do something productive again. To utilize his skills and do something worthwhile and pick up a little cash in the process. No way was he going to refuse that.

“I’ll take the training program,” the captain relented, seeing the eager desire in the younger man’s face. “Any night you don’t feel up to it, just say the word and I’ll fill in for you.”

“So the job’s mine?”

Simon suppressed a smile as he studied Sandburg unobtrusively. He was thin, and the crop of short, dark curls made him seem older, more mature. But when that excitement starting building it gave him a youthful appearance that made him still think of the young man as a ‘kid’.

“It’s all yours. You just have to tell Jim.”

Blair didn’t see what the big deal was, until he broached the subject with Ellison. The detective wasn’t happy with his captain for suggesting the idea, for he didn’t think his friend was quite up to the rigors of teaching a three hour class three nights a week. But it wasn’t his decision, and after letting his opinion be known, there was nothing more he could do.

The first few weeks were a little rough for Sandburg as he was still weak from his last brush with death. But his excitement kept him going and as his strength returned he threw himself into his new job with gusto, overjoyed to be teaching again and feeling useful, and delighted with his weekly check. It was a mere pittance, but it was enough to keep him from feeling like a complete slacker. And Jim couldn’t take issue with his friend’s enthusiasm, happy to see him so happy. Although he had no idea to what extent until the night he reluctantly agreed to substitute for Connor’s self defense class. As it was one of Blair’s teaching nights and both classes were at the YMCA, they rode there together. Ellison finished first and wandered down to the classroom to pick up his friend, but he was early and Sandburg was busy spinning between two chalkboards covered with math problems. Not wanting to disturb the class, Jim waited outside, but he found it hard to tear his gaze away from the window in the door.

Just that morning he had brought up the subject of the academy. Blair had laughed and protested that he was getting way ahead of himself, saying that it would be awhile before he was ready for the rigors involved in training to become a police officer. But as the sentinel watched him through the window, he knew that his guide would never be ready. Never fully, not in his heart. He was a teacher. That was his true love and his passion. Jim could no longer deny it, seeing the obvious joy on his friend’s face as he relayed his knowledge to his students and saw the spark of understanding and learning reflected back at him. There was a light in Blair that hadn’t been there since his press conference. A happiness that a badge simply couldn’t bring him.

Jim made himself turn away from the window, feeling a bit sad for himself and what he was losing. But everything happens for a reason, and it was all right. He had the brass ring, and he finally knew what to do with it.

The sentinel scanned the menu carefully, but his mind was preoccupied and read over the list of entrees without really comprehending them. He finally gave up, tossing the menu down on the table and glancing at his guide seated across from him.

“Do you know what you want?”

“Yeah.” Blair tossed his own menu down on the table and met his friend’s gaze with a grin. “I want you to tell me what we’re doing here.”

“I just thought we’d grab a meal.”

“You don’t come to a place like this to ‘grab a meal’,” Sandburg pointed out sagely. “You come here when you want to propose, or to celebrate your anniversary. And since I’m here with you, that means we’re either celebrating something or you need to break something to me. Judging by your face, I’d guess it’s the latter.”

“All right,” Ellison relented. “I have to talk to you about something I’ve got in the works.”

“So you bring me to a fancy French restaurant? Is that by design to keep me from yelling at you and causing a scene?” Blair had been joking, but when Jim looked away guiltily he realized that this something was BIG and the probability of it launching him off the handle was high. “Oh, man, Jim. What did you do?”

“Bonjour, monsieurs. My name is Phillipe and I’ll be your waiter this evening.”

“Yeah, that’s great, Phillipe,” Blair interrupted him. “We’re going to need a few minutes here.”

“Look, why don’t we just order and have a nice dinner...”

“Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?” Sandburg suggested firmly, his blue eyed gaze letting it be known there were no other options.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Jim began. “I wasn’t trying to be controlling or to run your life for you. I know I should have talked this over with you first, but I wasn’t sure I could make it happen so I didn’t want you to feel disappointed if I couldn’t work it out.”

“Work what out?”

“Perhaps you would like to hear our specials this evening?” the waiter butted in.

“Phillipe,” Blair began with a deceptively pleasant smile. “Not now.”

“I kind of wanted to hear the specials, Chief,” Ellison muttered as the waiter impatiently retreated a few step away, his words causing his friend to turn that deceptively pleasant smile onto him.

“Jim, I’m going to remain calm while I ask you this one more time. But if you don’t answer me, I am going to cause a scene that will get us both kicked out of here and banned from ever coming back. Now, what did you do?!”

“Ok. I didn’t mean to go behind your back, but I thought there was a good chance you would try and talk me out of this. I went to Rainier last week and had a meeting with Sidney Oldham and Chancellor Edwards.”

“A meeting about what?” Sandburg asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“About me being a sentinel,” Jim answered, lowering his voice. “I told them everything in your paper was the truth. They didn’t believe me at first, but I let them put me to the test and I managed to convince them.”

“Yeah,” Blair said after a long, uncomfortable pause. “Yeah, I would have definitely tried to talk you out of doing that. Why, Jim? Why would you do that now, after it’s all been forgotten?”

“Could I interest you gentleman in a drink or an appetizer while you decide?”

“Look, Phillipe,” Ellison interjected quickly as he subtly reached out and placed a restraining hand on his friend’s arm when he saw Sandburg’s grip tighten on his fork. “Just bring us a bottle of wine and whatever the special is tonight, ok?”

“We have several specials...”

“Anything,” Sandburg told him. “We don’t care.”

But the waiter was not satisfied with that and insisted on running down the menu and wine list and side options. By the time the meal order was completed, neither side was very happy and Phillipe stalked off, grumbling under his breath in French. The sentinel had reservations about what the disgruntled waiter might do to his food behind the scenes, but his guide’s only concern was the situation at hand.

“Go on, Jim,” Blair urged quietly, but with anger audible in his voice. “Why did you do that? What did you think you were going to gain?”

“I gained a lot, Chief. Your job back, for one.”

“What?”

“I told them everything, including why you had to do what you did. Getting the media off my back was the only way I could stop Zeller before anyone else was hurt or killed. And in light of that, I asked them to give you a second chance.”

“And they agreed, just like that?” Sandburg snapped.

“No. It was a hard sell, but I am trained in the field of negotiation. They were holding your career hostage and I talked them down.”

“This isn’t funny!” Blair hissed. “I know they didn’t just give in. What did you have to agree to?”

“Nothing I didn’t agree to years ago. I’m going to let myself be studied and researched and the findings published. But only by you. This project is all yours and you have full editorial control. You don’t have to answer to anyone and you don’t have any time lines to worry about. And the details are just going to be between the four of us. No one else is going to know about your work and nothing gets released until you decide to release it.”

“There’s got to be more,” Sandburg insisted, shaking his head. “Chancellor Edwards would never agree to that.”

“She’s a bitch, but a practical one,” Ellison shrugged. “This is a chance for Rainier to regain some of the credibility it lost when you labeled yourself a fraud. And I played a little hardball and told them if they didn’t want the opportunity, we’d go to another university that did. And then when they were reaping the acclaim, I’d be sure to bring as much bad press to Rainier as possible for not listening to your side of the story and turning their backs on you when you only acted with noble purposes.”

“Sounds like you laid it on pretty thick,” Blair murmured as he began to calm down.

“It’s the only way to get through to the thick,” Jim grinned.

“I’m just not buying that you’re ok with this,” Sandburg sighed. “I mean, we’ve done the findings being published routine once and it was a total disaster.”

“But this time it will be on our terms,” the sentinel said. “We can control how and what’s released and be prepared to deal with it. You know those media idiots have short attention spans. There might be a firestorm at first, but as long as they realize we’re being open and not trying to hide anything, they’ll get bored and move on to the next big story.”

“And you’re ready to be open and not hide anything?” Blair asked skeptically.

“Maybe it’s time.” Jim paused as Phillipe returned with the wine and poured them each a glass, glowering at them as he promised their dinner would soon be following. When the waiter left he picked up his glass and took a sip, looking at his friend evenly over the rim before continuing. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this. You’ve been right all along. This is who I am, and it’s a gift. A pain in the ass gift sometimes, but a gift all the same. And maybe it’s time for me to stop hiding, and to become the sentinel of the great city for real. I mean, you know the truth. So does Simon and Connor and the rest of the guys. Steven and my dad are ok with it now. None of you treat me like a freak, and those are the only opinions that really matter to me. And maybe other people will react the same if I give them half a chance.”

“You know I’ve always been waiting for the day when you embraced who you are. I just didn’t think it would ever come.”

“It will someday, even if I’m not quite ready yet.” Ellison grinned broadly and his blue eyes took on a rare mischievous twinkle. “Besides, that’s why I added the no timeline codicil. Who’s to say these findings aren’t going to be ready to publish for twenty years until I retire?”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Blair chuckled, visibly relaxing his tense posture.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Sandburg sobered and sighed, running his hand over his short curls. “This is the last thing I expected. You’re going to have to give me a minute to get my head around it.”

“Rainier’s willing to give you office and lab space and furnish you with a research grant. A small salary, too, although I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what your contemporaries earn. You’ll get your Ph.D. when you’re ready to go public and defend your work. The only thing I couldn’t get you was your classes back. I tried, Chief, but Edwards was adamant you weren’t going to be teaching as long as the world still thought of you as a fraud. I’m sorry.”

“Small concession for everything else you got,” Blair told him.

“Well, you still have your night school classes and Sidney did say he’d work on her and see what he could do. He thought maybe he could get you on as a sub, and then slip you in to something from there. But in the meantime you can keep yourself busy down at the station.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you need data, right? How else are you going to get it if you don’t observe me?”

“You really want me tagging along with you again?”

“You did a lot more than just tag along,” the detective reminded him. “I meant what I said when I told you that you were the best partner I ever had. I do want you back, and so does everyone else. Simon’s all ready to sign off on your credentials as soon as I give him the word.”

“What about Josh?”

“Narcotics has been trying to recruit him for months. That baby face of his will make him a crack undercover officer. And I think he’s ready to go. He wants to actually help people for a change and prevent crime, rather than just trying to get justice for the ones that we were too late to help. So once his transfer comes through, I’ll be needing a new partner.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Blair murmured.

“You don’t have to say anything now,” Jim assured him. “Take all the time you want and think about it. None of this is in stone, Chief, and I’m not going to take it personally if you decide you want another life. If this isn’t what you want, you don’t have to do it. You need to do what’s best for yourself.”

“This is exactly what I want,” Sandburg whispered, feeling his throat tighten. “I just didn’t think I could ever have it again. I’m just so... I don’t even think there’s a word for what I’m feeling. Jim, what made you decide to do all this?”

“Because what you did at that press conference wasn’t right,” Ellison told him softly, remembering it as if it were yesterday, his own heart aching as he recalled watching his friend’s heart breaking as he sacrificed everything. His career, his life’s work, his blood, sweat and tears, and his soul. “You shouldn’t have had to take all the heat and you shouldn’t have had to shoulder all the weight yourself.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Because I didn’t give you one,” the sentinel argued. “You had to take the only option I left you. If I hadn’t shut you out, maybe together we could have found a better solution. I had a choice and I chose wrong and selfish and I’m sorry. I can’t go back and change it, but I can try to make it right now, even if it is overdue.”

“Jim, I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” Blair began hesitantly. “But are you sure you’ve thought it through? I mean, even if nobody knows the details of what I’m doing, people are going to figure it out. If I come back to the station, the rumors are going to fly. And if I show up at Rainier after being disgraced as a fraud and start working on a secret project, people are going to guess what I’m doing and some of them might resent it. There’s a good chance that this is all going to blow up again, whether we release anything or not.”

“Then we’ll deal with it.” Ellison fixed a steady, sincere gaze on his partner. “I trust you to handle things, Chief. I always did. I just didn’t trust myself.”

“And this is really what you want?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want. Things have been the way I wanted from the start. It’s your turn now to have what you want.”

“Uh uh,” Blair disagreed, shaking his head. “We have to both want this. Otherwise it isn’t going to work and it’s just going to fall apart.”

“I do want this.” Jim drained his glass and was quiet for a moment, running a finger absently around the rim. “I’ve been thinking about the Switchman case. And how I didn’t know what was happening to me and how I really thought I was losing my mind. I probably would have, too, if you hadn’t clued me into what was going on with my senses. It was a really scarey time there, and I’ve been wondering if there are other sentinels out there going through the same thing. Obviously, thanks to Alex, we know I’m not the only one. And the research that you and I do could help others understand what’s happening to them and how to control it. I’ve come to realize this isn’t just about me anymore. And if worse case scenario happens and I get outed and end up losing my job or having to quit, then so be it. It’s worth it if it helps somebody else. Because I wouldn’t wish that confusion and fear and pain on anyone.”

“I won’t let it come to that,” Sandburg vowed firmly. “We’ll plan ahead and whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. But I won’t let anyone force you into giving up your life, I promise.”

“So does that mean you accept my offer?”

“Not yet,” Blair said quietly, looking his friend straight in the eye. “There’s one more thing we have to clear up. The work we’ve already done was just scratching the surface. What happened in Mexico taught us that. There’s still a lot more to discover here. But I’m not going to dive in unless you’re with me. You’ve got to help me, Jim. You have to grant me all access and let me in all the way. If you don’t, there’s no point in any of this because we’ll just be going around in circles. The only way this can work is if you give yourself up to me entirely. Can you do that?”

The sentinel looked away for a moment, but then he met his guide’s unwavering gaze. Sandburg had asked him that question once before, but now he was ready to give him the answer he deserved.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? That means no more pushing me away or refusing tests or being evasive. You have to tell me everything you’re thinking and feeling, no matter how vulnerable or uncomfortable or scared it makes you. You HAVE to let me in.”

“You’re in, Chief.”

“All the way?”

“All the way.”

“No matter how weird things get?”

“Chief, I think I’m finally ready to take that trip with you.”

Blair grinned, believing the honest sincerity in the blue eyes.

“Then you’ve got yourself a partner, Partner.”

“Don’t call me ‘Partner’,” Jim told him sternly, although he was grinning just as broadly. “Remember you are...”

“Strictly an observer,” they chorused together, garnering another glare from Phillipe as he returned to their table with their meal.

The rest of their dinner was a much more lighthearted affair, peppered by easy banter and an almost palpable air of relief. They also gave in to the juvenile urge to torment their hapless waiter, finding any number of excuses to summon him to their table. After an hour of replacing dropped utensils and bringing ice and napkins and mopping up spilled water glasses and relighting candles that had mysteriously gone out, Phillipe definitely wanted them gone and began trying to not so subtly hurry them along. So naturally they both opted for dessert and coffee.

“Chief, let me ask you something,” Jim began thoughtfully as he sipped at his demitasse. “Have you figured out why all this happened yet? Since nothing’s random and everything happens for a reason? I mean, we’re basically right back to where we started. So why did we have to go through two years of hell just to come full circle?”

Blair was quiet for a few minutes, shredding the pastry on the plate before him with his fork while he thought it over.

“Well, I would say it was because the place we were at wasn’t a good one,” he replied seriously. “Even before Naomi leaked my thesis. Really even before the mess with Alex. Something happened to us, Jim. I don’t know exactly what or why, but we were falling apart. And I think if we would have kept carrying on, trying to pretend there wasn’t this giant problem between us, then we would have self-destructed. Maybe this was the universe’s way of teaching us a lesson, before we passed the point of no return. We both had things we needed to learn and obviously we weren’t going to do that without a sort of cosmic slap in the face wake up call.”

“So what did you learn?” Ellison asked, genuinely curious.

“It wasn’t easy for me to give up my independence,” Sandburg told him. “Financially, physically, emotionally... But I learned there’s no shame in asking for and accepting help when you need it. Everybody does now and then, right? I think the hardest part was learning to accept that anything I’d do for you, you’d do for me. And I also learned that sometimes it has to be about me. I can’t always put my own needs second to everyone else, but I have to do what’s best for myself.” Blair sighed, running a hand through his short curls before meeting his friend’s gaze. “But mostly, I learned what’s important in life. After I held that press conference, I felt like everything was all over, man. I tanked my career, and that was it, nothing left. End of story, end of me.”

“But you’re so much more than one paper,” the sentinel murmured.

“I know that now,” Blair said quietly, but with confidence. “The work you and I did really meant something, even if it never sees the light of day. And I have more skills and interests to fall back on besides anthropology. There are a lot of things I can do and can be, but I was too focused on that one aspect of my life to see it.” He stirred a little more cream into his coffee and took a sip, grinning at his friend over the rim of his mug. “Nothing like staring death in the face to give you a little perspective. Now I’m just happy to be alive and healthy, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. You can believe I’ll never take that for granted again.”

Ellison didn’t verbally answer, but a vehement “me, neither,” flashed from his blue eyes.

“What about you, man? What did you learn?”

“Lots of things.”

“Jim, that hardly qualifies as letting me in,” Blair pointed out wryly.

“Ok,” the sentinel sighed. “Although I’m not convinced the infinite cosmos really took so much interest in two lives. But I guess I learned what’s important in life, too.”

“Which is?”

“Well, no matter how hard I try, things are going to happen that are beyond my control. And getting mad about it probably isn’t the most productive way to deal with it.”

“That’s a good start,” Sandburg chuckled. “Go on.”

“And if I do get mad, I at least can’t lose sight of what I do have in my life. Because if I tap into that, the problems will be easier to deal with. I can’t be closed off all the time. You know, I used to think that if I kept myself distanced it would make me strong. That I’d be invulnerable when people I cared about left. But what I finally realized is that by being remote, I was actually driving people away. I’ve lost a lot of people I loved over the years and some of them I couldn’t do anything about. But a lot of others leaving was my own fault, and that’s a hard truth to face. So I learned I need to open myself up and show my appreciation to my friends and family. If that leaves me vulnerable to hurt, well so be it. It’s better than being alone.”

“Jim, not everyone leaves, you know,” Blair reminded him gently.

“Yeah, Chief,” Jim murmured, looking at his friend with warm affection. “I learned that, too.”

“So maybe we didn’t come full circle,” Sandburg hypothesized. “But instead we detoured to a new, better place where we can start over and try this again. And maybe get it right this time.”

“We’ll get it right,” Ellison agreed confidently. “I’m not saying there won’t ever be bumps in the road down the line. Because you can’t deny that we both have the knack for driving each other crazy sometimes. But if we could crash and burn as badly as we did and somehow come out the better for it, we should be able to sail through anything else the cosmos still has to throw at us with flying colors.”

“I hear that,” Blair grinned. “And I think Phillipe just might be our first bump. Maybe we should get out of here before he comes after us with his flambee wand.”

Jim laughed and reached for the bill that had been sitting conspicuously on their table for some time. He was in a good mood, feeling uncharacteristically light and free after finally purging the last remnants of guilt from his soul, so he added a generous tip to compensate the misfortunate waiter for the abuse he’d endured, even though he had brought it on himself.

They returned home to the loft and Blair declined a beer as he entered the living room and flopped down into the yellow chair, expecting his friend to follow suit and put on the nightly news. Jim had a seat on the couch, setting his bottle down on the coffee table and picking up the remote. But he didn’t turn the tv on. For long moments he sat, tapping his fingers lightly over the buttons before finally turning to look at his friend.

“Chief, in the spirit of being open and sharing with you, there is something else I learned from all this.”

“What’s that?”

“When I was in the temple in Mexico, in the grotto, I had a vision of Incacha. He told me that I had to face the darkness and that it would flee from the light, but that the light had to shine from within. I never knew what he meant by that.”

“And now you do?”

“He asked me what I feared,” Jim explained. “And the answer to that is, fear.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” the sentinel accused his guide. “You wrote all about it in your thesis. You’re right, Chief. I’m afraid of not being good enough. Of failing. I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to protect the people under my watch. I’m scared of losing the people I love. And yes, I have a damn fear of intimacy.”

“So do a lot of people,” Blair assured him. “It’s not quite the fatal flaw you make it out to be, Jim.”

“It is for me,” Ellison argued. “I think that’s what Incacha was trying to tell me. All my fears get in the way and the block the light from shining from within. They hold me back when I should be moving forward.”

“But they don’t have to. Acknowledging you have these fears instead of denying them is the first step. You just need to learn to use this to your advantage, instead of repressing them until they come out as paranoia.”

“Can you help me work on that?” Jim asked quietly after a short pause.

“You got it,” Blair told him easily. “We can start tomorrow.”

“Uh uh. Tomorrow you need to call Chancellor Edwards and tell her you accept her offer.”

“No, tomorrow I need to call Chancellor Edwards and arrange a meeting. I have a few codicils of my own to negotiate. But you and I are starting tomorrow. You agreed to dive back in with me, Jim, and I’m holding you to that, university backing or not. So you’d better enjoy your last night of freedom, my little guinea pig, because tomorrow the fun begins.”

The sentinel looked at his guide, his heart lifting to see his broad grin and the excited sparkle in his eyes. Just as it was supposed to be, and he vowed to do everything in his power to make sure it never faded again. But he didn’t return the smile, instead rolling his eyes with a dramatic sigh.

“I’ve created a monster.”

James Ellison was like a shadow as he effortlessly moved through the jungle, camouflaged in fatigues and making no sound as he expertly slipped through the brush. His senses were on full alert and he was tensed and ready for action, swiftly drawing his crossbow and arming it as he became aware of a presence nearby, one that could never have been detected by any ordinary man. He trained his weapon steadily on the bushes, not surprised when they parted and a gray wolf stepped out.

He had been dreaming of the wolf frequently over the past couple of years. Sometimes it was wary and afraid, and sometimes it snarled at him in irritation. A few times it was far away, out of his reach, only making itself known by a lonely, haunting howl. Often it merely sat and regarded him with a calm, neutral demeanor. Less often it would be relaxed, wagging its tail in friendly greeting. And then there were the nightmares where he would find the wolf curled at his feet, whimpering in pain and more dead than alive. But as the sentinel’s weapon fell to his side and he dropped down to one knee, there was no reservation or hesitation in the animal this time as it trotted forward, healthy and strong and with more energy than he’d ever seen it display.

The wolf sniffed his outstretched hand briefly and he spent a few minutes scratching the animal’s ears and fending off an eager tongue. Then a soft growl captured both their attentions and they turned in synch to see a black jaguar reclining a few yards away, watching them from the shadows. The wolf left him and bounded over to the great cat, jumping on the jaguar playfully and getting swatted in return. Even though the canine was a skilled predator in its own right, it was no match for the awesome power of the mighty cat. The heavy paw was easily capable of breaking the wolf’s neck with one blow, but there had been no force behind the swipe. Seemingly knowing it was in no danger, the wolf turned quickly, nipping at the cat’s twitching tail before leaping back, tongue lolling as it panted happily.

The sentinel grinned as the jaguar glanced at him, imagining he could see a martyred look of weary irritation that couldn’t quite mask fond affection reflecting out of the yellow eyes.

“I know,” he said with a chuckle as he shrugged his shoulders. “But what can you do?”

The cat chuffed softly in answer and got to its feet, shaking its bulk and swiping a tongue over its sleek black fur. Then with one last glance at the sentinel, it turned and began stalking off into the jungle with the wolf loping along beside it.

It wasn’t safe in the jungle. The sentinel could sense it out there, danger lurking in the shadows. But he didn’t follow the two animals, because he knew they would look out for each other. So he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and began moving in the opposite direction, away from them, knowing he didn’t need to worry about the wolf and the jaguar. Together they were going to be just fine.

Finis

Locks of Love

The Sandburg Zone

Cascade Library