Soul Shadows Part 3
Danae
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. They belong to Pet
Fly. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. I mean no harm,
infringement, or disrespect and I certainly am not getting paid
for this. I'm just having some fun.
As ever, thanks to my wonderful betas, Beth, Missy, Laura and
Paulette. Thanks to Nickerbits for bidding for this story in the
auction. This one's for you! Thanks to Michelle, my friend and
inspiration! And last but not least, to everyone that writes me
with feedback and encourages me with their words of support.
There are some references to and some spoilers for S2, BMB, and
Cypher. And some references to the deaths of various vehicles
. And a few bad words. Hmmmm, can't think of anything else.
Soul Shadows Part 3
Danae
_______________________________________________________________
"Mr. Ellison?"
"Yes." Jim stood, shaking off the mini-zone that he had allowed
to take him away from his confused and anguished thoughts for a
while, and faced Dr. Sullivan once more. Why did he have to be
on duty every time Jim brought Blair in? Okay, so it was really
only the second time but Jim had already made up his mind. He
did not like the man.
"Your partner is awake and he's asking for you. Should I get the
papers now or are you actually going to let me find out what's
wrong with him this time?"
Jim's temper flared and it took every ounce of self-control he
possessed to keep from throwing the weasel-faced man up against
the wall and choking the life out of him. "There is nothing wrong
with Blair that I can't handle."
"Then why is this the second time in three days that I have seen
him? Mr. Ellison, I realize that you care about your partner. I
know that you don't want him to continue this way. Do you? In
order to stop this from happening, we need to find the cause.
Now, I ruled out drug-induced delusions and hallucinations the
last time he was here. A psychiatric evaluation will find or
rule out any mental illness. If the eval finds a mental cause
for his problems then psychiatrists now have excellent treatments
for things like this. If the eval rules out mental illness, then
we would start looking at physical causes such as brain tumors or
chemical imbalances."
Jim's hands were hurting, and he looked down at them to determine
why. He discovered that his fists were clenched tight and his
fingernails were on the verge of breaking the skin of his palm.
"Get me those papers and show me where my partner is. Never
mind, I'll find him myself," he growled through clenched teeth
while he made a conscious effort to uncurl his fingers.
Sullivan sighed. "You know, Detective, as a doctor I can have
someone admitted and have that eval done without your consent if
I feel that Mr. Sandburg is a danger to himself or others?"
"Only with a court order and even then you'd be lying. Blair
would never hurt anybody and I'll file every member of the
Cascade Major Crimes Unit before the judge to say so. So, I
guess you can try, but we make really bad enemies to have, Dr.
Sullivan and I assure you, you will not be pleased with that
result. Get me those papers. Now."
Sullivan studied him for a moment, perhaps trying to determine
the sincerity and verisimilitude of the threat. Finally, he
frowned and looked up at the ceiling over their heads. "I'll get
the papers."
"Thank you." Jim remarked, not any sincerity in those words at
all. He walked away from the irate man and smiled smugly as he
focused his hearing behind him to listen to the irritated
mumbling. Sullivan was not a happy man. Which made Jim feel
much better. As he passed through the emergency room doors, he
refocused and quickly located his guide. Jim walked into the
cubicle where Blair lay on the table, obviously impatient and
more than a little rattled.
"Jim! What happened? Why did you bring me here?"
"Do you remember anything, Chief?"
"I remember everything but how I got here." Blair flung his hands
in the air. "You left me alone!"
Jim looked at his partner apologetically. "I didn't have much of
a choice. I'm not exactly Sullivan's favorite person. I'm
sorry. Are you okay?
"I'm fine now." The emphasis on the word "now" did not escape
Jim's attention.
"Anyway, I was sort of hoping you would forget some of it."
"Jim," Blair sat up and folded his legs into his meditation pose,
"you weren't responsible for that. I know that."
"It happened before."
Blair tilted his head in confusion. "When? Where? Ahh, this
morning or last night. That's what you wouldn't tell me."
"I was cooking breakfast and I just got out a knife and..." Jim
could not finish the sentence.
"And you were tempted to play Norman Bates on me?"
Jim scowled at him. "This is serious, Blair."
"I know. Believe me, I know. Sorry. But I have this figured
out now."
"Then, by all means, Sandburg, explain it to me before I actually
succeed in killing you."
"Jim, you won't kill me. That's the flaw in Maggie's plan.
You're a Sentinel, I'm your Guide. Part of your imperative as a
Sentinel is to protect me. Just like Dawson tried to protect Van
and they hadn't even discovered what they were yet."
"You're taking an awful big leap here, Chief. We don't actually
know that Dawson ever exhibited any heightened senses."
"We can ask his daughter though. I bet he did."
"She said she was still young when he died."
"I want to talk to her anyway, Jim."
"Fine, so what else have you figured out?"
"The psychic was wrong. Van never killed anybody and if I'm
right, never would have, not intentionally anyway. So you were
never in any danger from me."
"You, on the other hand..."
"You were supposed to take Maggie's place. That was why you went
for the knife. I guess she figured that a gun would work just as
well in the garden though since there was no knife handy."
Jim nodded soberly. "So, what do we do?"
"I'm not sure about that part yet. The one thing we don't do
is go back to that house. That's the center. That's where she's
strongest."
Jim shook his head. "It's gone from 'they' to 'she.' Why?"
"Sarah has no power. She's trapped here by Maggie's hate. She
doesn't want to kill me. In her own twisted way, she really
cares about me. It stills gives me the creeps but I know she
doesn't want to hurt me."
"Van. She doesn't want to hurt Van." Jim corrected.
"But I am Van."
"Okay, we're so far into the Twilight Zone that I'm not even
going to argue that one with you anymore."
"And I know why all of this happened too."
"Oh, you do? Mind passing that along, Chief?"
"Because of them. I think that they drew me back here to
Cascade. Think about it, Jim. They've been trapped here now for
one hundred years. Maybe they need closure and they need me to
somehow give them that closure."
"Blair, I don't think there's anything that could provide them
with much more closure than what had already happened in that
house one hundred years ago. She hated them both, she killed
them both so why doesn't she leave you the hell alone?"
"No, it's not that simple. Maggie was his mother. She had to
feel something besides hate."
"Oh, great. Now, we get to it. You think you're going to save
their souls and send them on to the afterlife, don't you? I
think I liked it better when you wouldn't say their names,
Chief."
Blair looked down into his lap then back up at Jim. "I have to
try." Jim knew that look and he hated it. The look that made
Jim unable to say the simple word no. The same look that got him
all the nurses' phone numbers and everything he asked for every
time he ended up here in this very place.
"Damn it, Blair, they're trying to kill you and you still want to
save them?! When will you get it through your head that some---
people, for lack of a better reference, aren't worth saving?!"
I don't know, Jim! How long did it take you?! Because I can
certainly remember a time when you hadn't figured that out
either! I thought I was going to have die a couple more times
before you got it! You seemed a little indecisive on that
beach!"
Jim looked down at his chest and was amazed to see that there was
no knife stuck in there. It had certainly hurt like he had been
stabbed. "Oh, shit," he whispered softly. "Blair--"
"I'm sorry." Blair cut him off with the apology. "I am, but you
just pissed me off." He paused and looked out the window for a
long moment. Jim could see him composing himself, letting go of
the anger behind the words. "Maybe the part of me that was Van
needs some closure too."
Jim tried for composure himself and settled for being able to
lower his voice instead. "And if I lose control again, what
then?"
"You're expecting it now. You can fight it better. We'll be
fine. Jim, I trust you. You are not going to hurt me."
"Maybe you should stay with--"
"If you say it, so help me God, I'm going to punch you straight
in the face. I'm not going anywhere and you aren't going to make
me. Pack my stuff, I'll unpack it. Take down my bed, I'll sleep
on the floor. Empty out the entire loft again, hell, we can both
sleep on the damn floor but I'm not leaving. You said that you
would stay with me, Jim. That you wouldn't leave me alone to
deal with this. Are you backing out on me now?"
"No, of course not. I'm just worried."
"No, now you're running scared. You know, Jim, you'd think after
all this time, we would eventually get on the same damn page."
Jim almost chuckled. "You read faster than me, Chief."
Blair smirked at him. "At least you admit it."
Jim shook his head and turned to look out of the door. "Where is
that stupid Sullivan with those papers?" Jim muttered. "We have
to get outta here. Simon only gave us until ten to get to the
station or call before he was coming down here himself. He's
pretty worried about you, Chief."
"Which reminds me, you never did tell me what happened."
"You passed out once we were out the garden. One minute you were
about to tell me something and the next I had to catch you before
you hit the ground. Nearly gave me a heart attack."
Blair considered that for a moment before he said anything. "I
remember walking out of the garden. I was supporting you. I
remember you pulling away and saying something to me but I
couldn't hear it. There was this sound in my head, like somebody
screaming, and I felt like something was pushing me down,
something heavy and then nothing until I woke up with that doctor
standing over me."
Said doctor picked that time to finally show up. "Sorry, got
busy," was his explanation. "Actually had a patient that I was
allowed to examine. Who's signing this time?"
Jim indicated Blair and Sullivan handed the clipboard to the
younger man and folded his arms across his chest until the
clipboard came back to him. "Good luck, gentlemen, expect to see
you again pretty soon." He left and Jim had to turn his head
away and bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Blair gave
him the "behave" look that he had no doubt learned from Jim
during the many times when the situation was reversed.
Blair got down from the table and grabbed Jim's arm. "Let's go
before he tries to commit us both."
____________________________________________________________
The bullpen doors had not even stopped swinging before Simon was
screaming their names from his office. "Get in here!" the man
added before leaving the door open to them. Jim motioned for
Blair to take the lead.
"Oh, I get to go in first? Gee, Jim, thanks."
"Hey, he gets hold of you and I have time for a tactical
retreat."
"Funny. I want a new plan." Blair muttered as he stepped into
the office. Simon was not poised for an attack, however. He was
seated at his desk.
"Close the door, Jim, and you two have a seat. I want to know
what happened. I was just before coming to find you. Two
minutes to spare, gentlemen. Just two minutes more and I'd have
been coming down on somebody's head."
"It's Jim's fault, Simon."
"*My* fault? Going to Radcliff House was *your* idea, Chief,"
Jim protested.
"Yeah, but you're the one that panicked and took me to the stupid
hospital," Blair argued.
"Well, next time I'll just toss you in the back of the truck and
come on in to work. How would that be?"
"In the back, Jim? I'm loved," Blair remarked.
"Enough!" Simon raised both arms in exasperation. "Answers,
gentlemen, before I get too damn old to care."
"Blair had an idea and it didn't work out very well."
"And?"
"Jim tried to shoot me."
"Excuse me?!" Simon stood suddenly.
"Seems that psychic woman was wrong, sir." Jim sighed before
continuing. "Blair is not being pushed into killing me and
himself. It's the other way around."
Simon looked thoroughly confused. "But you haven't even sensed
these--- spirits, right?"
"Right, until this morning. So far this morning, I have twice
picked up a weapon against Blair."
"Twice?!"
"A knife while I was making breakfast and the gun at Radcliff
House."
Simon turned his attention to Blair. "And you didn't get the
hell out of there? What's wrong with you?"
"I didn't know about the knife. I was in the shower and Jim
didn't tell me until after the gun thing."
"Slip your mind, Jim?" Simon's tone dripped with sarcasm.
"No, Captain. I didn't know how to say it and I couldn't explain
it. I still can't. I really am not comfortable with the idea of
ghosts and reincarnation."
"I think we're past the part where your comfort level has
anything to do with it, Ellison. Something is happening here and
there is no other explanation for it, as much as it pains me to
say so. Sandburg, what's your take on this?"
"Which part? I mean, I think that they been trapped in that
house since they died. I think Maggie is the force behind all of
this. I think that those people that died in the house all died
because of Maggie's anger and hatred. She projected those
feelings on one person in each of those families just like she's
doing with Jim and each of those people were compelled to murder
their families and kill themselves."
"But Maggie Radcliff did not kill herself. Sheriff Dawson killed
her," Simon pointed out.
"But I think she would have had he not come in. She attacked him
because she knew that he would do it for her. One way or
another, she brought about her own death."
"So, what do we do, Chief?"
"Well, she's too strong at the house. She's on her home turf, so
to speak. I say that we try to take her to our home turf."
"Chief, she's dead. Just a little reminder, d-e-a-d."
"So is Incacha, d-e-a-d as you put it, and we've both seen and
talked to him."
"The jungle? How?"
"We've shared a vision before, Jim. We can do it again and since
she and Sarah are *with* me, we should be able to see and talk to
them."
A groan from behind the desk made both of them turn in time to
see Simon sink into his chair and put his head on his desk.
"Never easy with you two, is it?" he mumbled. "Why is it always
so difficult with you?"
"Sorry, Simon," Blair apologized.
"Okay, how do we do this? Last time, you were clinically dead
and I was freaking out."
"We can try on our own or..."
"Or what?"
"We can ask Dr. Winston to put us under."
"No. No Dr. Winston. You can help me and then you can try to
join me."
"If it works."
"Yeah, if it works. And if it doesn't?"
Blair shrugged. "Then I come up with another idea."
"You know, Sandburg, for somebody who doesn't like heights, you
certainly fly by the seat of your pants an awful lot," Simon
grumbled.
Blair only smiled and Jim could not help but smile with his
partner. Blair would figure it out. Jim was surprised at the
conviction of the thought in his head. Perhaps he was finally
learning to have a little faith in their bond. Perhaps the rift
that Alex Barnes had caused was healed at last. Whatever the
cause, he realized that he trusted Blair completely with both
their lives. At some level, he had always known that Blair would
always be there for him but he often wondered if Blair did not
take too many chances with his own life in doing so. However, as
he took in the brilliance of his partner's smile, recognized the
intelligence behind the blue eyes, he just knew Blair would
figure this whole mess out and fix it. It was a comforting
feeling. He had not felt that way since Incacha died on his
sofa. It was a revelation. A recognition. A shock. Blair was
his Shaman. Blair was his Guide. Since Incacha's death, Jim had
been trying to hold on to his memory, hold on to the man's
wisdom, placing his trust and faith in his first guide and in
doing so, rejecting his true guide, the one Incacha was preparing
him for. *It's about time.* He could almost hear the words, in
Incacha's smiling tone and in Blair's relieved one. Jim shook
his head and laughed.
"What?" Blair asked.
"Nothing, Chief. I'll explain later."
"Well, whatever you have to do to get rid of---- them," Simon
waved his hands around in the air, "do it quick. I would like to
have this taken care of and things back to blessedly boring
normal, as if I even remember what the hell normal is, before
this weekend. I've got a trip planned with my son and I don't
want to spend it worried about what's become of the two of you.
Now, get out of my office and take your ghosts with you."
"Like I have a choice," Blair mumbled.
Jim gripped his Guide's shoulder and then slipped his arm around
Blair's neck. "Let's go, Junior. You have work to do and so do
I."
Once outside the office, Blair turned to him. "I'll get us out
of this, Jim. I promise."
"I know. I trust you, Chief." In an uncharacteristic show of
affection, Jim touched Blair's face for just an instant. The
shocked look on Blair's face told Jim that he still had some
repairs to make to Blair's faith in himself.
_______________________________________________________________
Blair examined his best friend from across the man's desk. He
knew what he was about to ask was not going to greeted with a
smile, much less acquiesence. "Jim," he started, pausing for his
friend to acknowledge him, "can I see the diaries now?"
Jim's inquisitive look gave way to a dark, brooding one. "No,"
he replied quickly before ducking his head to flip through the
file on his desk once more.
"Jim, I need to see those diaries. There might be something in
there that we can use."
"I said no."
Blair sighed and looked off for a moment. "Have you looked at
them?"
"No. Changed my mind. I'm taking them back to Camille Parks."
Jim would not look at him.
"But Jim--"
Jim's chair slammed into the wall as the man stood abruptly.
Blair fell back a few steps involuntarily. "I said no, damn it!
Now leave it alone, Sandburg, before I--" Jim stopped and the
silence in the bullpen was deafening as all eyes focused on them.
Blair stared at the fist Jim had raised to him. His heart was
racing and he felt light-headed as he watched the fist lower
slowly. Then Simon was there, cutting off Blair's view of his
Sentinel.
"Take a walk for a minute, will you, Sandburg? I need to talk to
your partner." The Captain's deep voice was soothing and calm
and Blair felt himself nodding as he backed up a few more steps.
"Blair, wait." Jim called and he stopped.
"Blair, go. You can talk to him when I'm done."
Blair held out one hand in entreaty. "But Simon, he needs--"
"He needs a swift kick in the ass." Simon cut him off. "Are you
going to give it to him?"
"You don't understand," Blair protested.
"Blair, I'm sorry." Jim stepped from behind Simon. "Go on,
Chief. We'll sort it out."
Blair was torn. He watched Simon and Jim disappear into the
captain's office. He wanted to go in there. Jim had stopped.
It was not his Sentinel's fault. He needed to make Simon
understand that but he also needed to get some air, calm his
nerves, slow his pounding heart. He was getting a headache.
Finally, he left the bullpen, painfully aware that all eyes were
on him. He was half-way to the stairs before he realized that
someone was calling his name. He turned to see Joel Taggert
hurrying to catch up with him. He tried to smile.
"Hey, Joel."
"Where are you headed?"
"Out to get some air."
Joel nodded. "Mind if I walk with you?"
"No." Blair was eternally grateful, although he could never
explain to the man beside him why. The voices of Maggie and
Sarah faded away as Joel moved up beside him. He swallowed and
tried once again to smile. It worked out a little better that
time. Funny how much easier it was to smile when you did not
hear some disembodied voice calling you the Devil's spawn and
telling you that you should die and another one whispering
endearments to you. The first voice filled Blair with fear, the
second turned his stomach. But the third, Joel Taggert's,
banished the other two as the man made small talk and slipped a
comforting, fatherly arm around his shoulders.
________________________________________________________________
"Okay, what was that? I thought you were going to hit him.
Why?"
Jim flopped into a chair. "Simon, I don't know. There was just
this voice in my head telling me that he never does as he's told
and that he's always asking questions about things that he should
leave alone and I needed to shut him up. I was up and my hand
was raised before I even knew what was happening. Sir, you know
I'd rather face a room full of ex-cons that I sent up than hit
Blair but I almost couldn't stop myself. If I hadn't seen that
look of fear in his eyes, I might not have stopped. It shocked
me right back into reality that I had made Blair afraid of me."
Simon rubbed his temples. "I wonder if Van Radcliff asked too
many questions."
"Hell, Simon, if this reincarnation stuff is real and Van and
Blair are in fact the same soul..."
"Then of course, Van asked too many questions." Simon finished
the sentence for him. "Jim, I hate to ask this, but is Blair
really safe with you right now?"
"I don't know. He says he is. He may be changing his mind about
that right now. Anyway, he won't even talk about staying with
someone else until we get this sorted out. And besides, it's
unfair for me to ask him to go anywhere because I can't control
myself."
"Then you go." Simon suggested.
"I can't!" Jim exclaimed, getting up to pace. "He can't stand to
be alone right now. Every time he's alone, he hears them. And
he has nightmares, nightmares that I don't even want to think
about. Let's just say that he hasn't had nightmares like this
since Lash. Simon, I'm sleeping on a cot in his room. Now, he's
apparently convinced that we should face off with these *ghosts*
together in a vision. I still haven't come to grips with it
happening the first damn time and he wants me to do it on
purpose, if that's even possible. And if it is possible, that
scares the hell out of me too." Jim took a deep breath. "But
you know something, Simon? I'll do it. If it's possible, I'll
do it. Anything to stop this. Anything to help Blair. And if
it's possible, he'll find a way."
"You sound pretty sure of that."
"I am." Jim laughed ruefully. "He's my Shaman, Simon. He's my
Guide. It has taken me awhile to grasp it but I think I got it
now. I trust him. If something's not right, Blair will right
it. If something's broken, he'll fix it. I really, really hate
it, but I'm done arguing with him about it. I'm just going to
listen and do what he says and believe and trust in him."
"To throw one back at you, who are you and what have you done
with Jim Ellison?"
Jim smiled. "A Sentinel and a cop with a damn good partner named
Blair Sandburg that I have ignored and dismissed for too damn
long. And last time I checked I was still Jim Ellison. I've
just passed a test that I've been failing for the past year or
so."
"You forgot something."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, you forgot the understanding and diligent captain that's
gonna kick your ass if you fail that test again. Now, get out of
here and take a few days to try to get this straightened out. I
can't have you two going at it in the bullpen like that again.
You actually hit him in front of these people and your name will
be Mud for the rest of your natural life."
"Yes sir. I know and thanks."
________________________________________________________________
"Are you and Jim okay? Is there anything you want or need to
tell me?"
Blair was surprised that it took his friend as long as it did to
get to what he really wanted to know. They had walked three
blocks, talked about everything from basketball to the weather to
obscure anthropology facts before Joel finally asked those
burning questions. "I know that looked pretty bad but we're
really okay, Joel. We've been dealing with a really stressful
situation and Jim's a little on edge."
"Has he ever hit you before?"
"No! Joel, we aren't like that. Jim didn't hit me. He stopped
himself. I was asking him for something that he thinks would do
me more harm than good. I disagree but he feels very strongly
about it and he's not had the best day today."
"So you were in the hospital this morning because..."
"Because I passed out."
"So this has to do with your health?"
Blair grinned, finally figuring out where this was headed. "So
you drew the short straw?"
"What?" Joel feigned innocence but Blair saw the guilt clearly in
his eyes.
"You're on a fact-finding mission, my friend. You're
investigating like any good cop but your report won't go to
Simon. It'll go to, let's see, let me guess, Brown, Rafe, Megan,
Rhonda maybe. Am I right?"
Joel actually blushed. "Am I that easy to see through?"
"Transparent."
"We were just worried about you. I mean, this is twice you've
been in the hospital in the past few days and neither of you
offered any explanation why. Then Jim looking like he was
about to try to lay you out, well, we were worried before but
this was just too much."
"Joel, if I told you what was going on, you'd think I was crazy."
"Try me."
"Another day, okay? I want to get back now. Jim's probably
getting worried."
"We have the whole walk back." Joel said, hopefully.
Blair looked at the older man, letting his eyes speak for him
before he said a word. "I just rather not talk about it right
now. Just trust me that Jim is not going to hurt me and that we
are going to be fine. I'm not sick and I'm not hurt. Jim and I
have this, well, almost under control."
"You promise me, Blair, you aren't in danger and I'll stay out of
it until such time you want to and can tell me about it."
"I promise."
"Okay. But if you need me, you know you can call anytime."
"I know, man. Thanks."
"And just so you know, I'd say Simon got the short straw. He's
having to grill Ellison right now. I got the easy part." Joel's
arm was over his shoulders again as they started back toward the
precinct, silent comfort to two troubled minds.
_____________________________________________________________
It had been a quiet day, much to both Blair's and Jim's
surprise. No further incidents to unsettle either of them. They
had wrapped up some paperwork and Jim had accompanied Blair to
the university library for a few hours while Blair dug for books
that might could be of some help to them. Finally, Blair had
placed an inter-library loan for a few texts with the librarian.
A day, maybe two, she had told Blair, and they would be there for
him. He thanked her and he and Jim headed for home. They entered
the loft in companionable silence. Jim set about preparations
for dinner while Blair pulled his lecture notes out and silently
read over them. He had a class to teach the next day, which
meant that he would be away from Jim, away from everybody, at
least for a little while the next day. He could not ask Jim
drive him to the campus and walk him to the Hargrove Building and
to his classroom, could he? He glanced at his roommate and best
friend in the kitchen. He could and Jim would but it was not
fair to Jim. The man had already done so much. He needed to get
a handle on this himself.
He knew that Jim had not slept as well as he had claimed on the
hard cot the night before. He could see the lines of tension
around Jim's eyes and mouth. He needed to buck up and not lean
on Jim so much. Jim had a job that he needed to do. Then again,
Simon had ordered them both to take a few days off. Still, Jim
did not need to have to baby-sit Blair 24/7. Besides, whether
Blair liked it or not, he had some more research to do and his
books would probably be there. Poor Jim would be bored stiff
while Blair dug through books on Shamanism and visions. Decision
made, he put his notes down on the table and tried to appear
casual and relaxed as he walked into the kitchen. "Um, Jim?"
"Yeah, Chief? Hand me that cayenne pepper, would you?"
"Living dangerously tonight, Jim?" Blair picked up the spice,
looked at it for a second, then passed it to the man in the
flowered apron. He tried to hide his grin. That apron was still
funny. It was so out of place on Jim.
Jim saw the grin anyway. "Not a word," he warned, pointing the
meat fork at him. Blair could not help it. He had to step back.
Jim snatched the utensil back and swore under his breath.
"Sorry."
"No, I'm sorry. That was stupid."
"The hell it was. After the day we've had, Chief, it was
perfectly understandable. Now, what'd you need?"
"You know, I have class tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah, I'll be with you tomorrow. Gotcha covered."
"No, Jim. I don't want you to have to follow me around and be
bored to tears all day. I mean, how long will I be alone? The
drive over and walking to my classroom. Then there'll be lots
and lots of Intro to Anthro students there to distract me."
"Then you're going back to the library though, right? Unless you
are actually speaking with someone close by, you can hear them."
"Well, yeah but--"
"But judging from lack of nightmares last night, I just have to
be there. Am I right?"
"Yeah, you seem to be the exception. You just have to be near."
"Then that settles it. I'll come with you."
"Jim, I have to learn to deal with this until I figure out how to
stop it. You've done enough. And you should probably sleep in
your own bed tonight too. You look tired."
"Absolutely not. I'm drawing the line there, Chief. I'll get
more sleep on that cot than if I have to go get you at three in
the morning again. If you really think you can handle it, I'll
back off about tomorrow. The truck could use a tune up and I
still didn't give Simon back the keys to Radcliff House. We
aren't ever going back there if I have anything to say about it.
However, there's no way in hell I'm risking another nightmare
scene like finding you in that garden so you're stuck with me
tonight and for any subsequent nights until this is over."
Secretly, Blair was happy. At the same time, he could not
help but feel a bit guilty. He did want Jim near at night but he
hated that he was giving up his own comfort to cater to Blair's
fears. "Okay. It's a decent compromise," he said, despite the
guilt rolling around in his stomach. "Now, Jim," he paused.
"Actually, could you put down the meat fork before I say this.
Better yet, give it to me." Blair reached for it and Jim
relinquished it easily.
"You're going to ask me about those diaries again, aren't you?"
Jim seemed calm as Blair examined him closely before answering.
"Yeah."
The Sentinel sighed heavily and put both hands on the kitchen
counter. "I swear I wish I had never asked her for those damn
things. Blair, let me put these steaks in the oven and we'll
talk, okay?"
"Fair enough." Blair handed the meat fork back to him and went
back into the living room to continue reading his notes.
Moments later, Jim sat down on the other end of the couch and
Blair waited for him to speak. "Why?" came the question after a
few long minutes of silence.
"I think I need to know more about them before I face them."
"Before *we* face them. I understood you to say that we were
going to do this together."
"Man, I hope so," he mumbled then realized what he had said
and how it sounded. "I'm sorry, Jim. It seems a little selfish
but I don't want to do this by myself and I think the two of us
together stand a better chance."
Jim moved closer and closed a big hand over Blair's shoulder.
"United we stand, divided we fall, I think I've learned that
lesson now, Chief. It doesn't sound selfish. It sounds smart.
I'd expect no less from you."
Blair blushed under his friend's praise. "Thanks, man."
"I'll get the diaries and we'll look at them together. Is that
good enough?"
"More than good enough. Preferable, actually."
Jim nodded and went off to his bedroom to retrieve the books that
he had hidden from Blair. And hidden quite well, because he had
looked. He was tempted to try to peek to find Jim's hiding
place. Never knew when one might need such information. But he
did not. He waited patiently until Jim returned. Jim took the
books to the table. "Come over here, Chief so I can keep an eye
on dinner."
Blair tried very hard not to run and snatch up the books, but he
did move just a little too fast and he had one of the books in
his hand before Jim managed to set them on the table. Jim made a
face at him and gave him an apologetic half-smile, half-grimace.
He pulled out a chair and sat down. Jim did the same.
_____________________________________________________________
Dinner was turned off half-done as Jim and Blair waded through
the diaries of Sarah Radcliff. Jim stared at the earliest of the
books in which Sarah described the events around her sister's
rape and pregnancy. Apparently, the idea of the child she
carried being evil came from their mother. Sarah refused to
believe it but Maggie, hurt and frightened, bought the whole
thing. As he read, he shook his head. It was amazing that Van
Radcliff had even been born. Elizabeth Radcliff beat Maggie
regularly for being "corrupted" by her father's evil. The
beatings apparently caused premature labor and Van was born
nearly a month early. Given the times, Van's survival was a
miracle, or rather, according to Elizabeth, the work of the
devil.
Old Man Radcliff himself died only a month after Maggie
began to show signs of her pregnancy, Mommie Dearest putting
arsenic in his food and standing over him while he died. Sarah
recounted the early days of Van's life as being difficult on
Maggie as their mother evidently descended into madness.
Eventually, Sarah convinced Maggie that they had to lock their
mother up before she killed them all. The two sisters locked
their mother in the attic. Surprisingly, however, little Van was
taken to see the old woman for several hours each day up until
she died. Sarah wrote that even though the woman was convinced
that they were all cursed, she was kind to Van and would play
with him during his visits and he called her Mama.
"Their mother was nuts too," he announced to his partner.
"Lovely family. Father and one sister were child molesters and
mother and the other sister were violent murderers." He got no
response and he looked up to see why. Blair's face was stark
pale and the book in his hand trembled. "Chief? Are you all
right?"
His partner took a shaky breath and raised his eyes to Jim's.
"I'll be all right. I'm just getting a really good understanding
of some of the images in my nightmares, that's all."
"Maybe you should stop." He reached for the book but Blair
avoided him.
"No, Jim. This is important. I can handle it."
He frowned. He did not want his Guide to have to handle it but
he relented and turned his attention back to the book in his own
hands. He scanned ahead to the death of Elizabeth Radcliff. The
whole town turned out for the funeral, Sarah had written. No one
even questioned why the woman had not been seen in her last
years. It was just accepted that she grieved for her husband and
took care of the child *she* had given birth to so late in her
life. Everyone believed that the little blue-eyed boy who clung
to Sarah's skirts was her brother. Sarah had thought that a bit
funny. Jim read her words silently, *How could anyone believe
that that shriveled-up, crazy woman had given birth to such a
bright and beautiful child?* Jim glanced up at Blair. The
younger man had placed one elbow on the table and rested his head
in his hand as he continued to read. Jim tried to imagine him as
a little boy, curly-headed and blue-eyed, clinging to Naomi. He
got the picture in his head and he had to smile. The smile died
quickly, however, as he returned to his task. Again, he scanned
the book until a few words caught his eye. Van was three and he
had broken one of Maggie's favorite vases. She hit him and Sarah
had come to his rescue. *Some rescue,* he thought bitterly as he
skipped the description of what Sarah had considered a rescue.
His stomach turned. "Three years old," he muttered.
"What?" Blair's question startled him.
No way was he going to tell Blair what he had just read.
"Nothing, Chief. Have you found anything?"
"Sarah was worried that Sheriff Dawson was going to figure out
that they killed their father and locked up their mother. She
said that Dawson seemed too interested in Van. She told Van to
stay away from him. He didn't and she told Maggie. Maggie beat
the hell out of him and locked him in the attic for three days.
Sort of ironic, huh? Van's hiding place became his prison."
"When was this?"
"The year before the murders, April 1898. She also didn't like
that Van was talking about trying to go away to school. The
teachers at the school were encouraging him. Oddly enough,
Maggie was all for it. Maybe she just wanted to get rid of him."
He shrugged. "I don't know, Jim. I've been thinking."
"We're in trouble now," Jim teased, hoping to bring a smile to
the pale countenance before him.
It worked. "Ha-ha. But I'm serious here. Maggie and Sarah were
trapped here but Van wasn't. His soul moved on. Why? Was it
because he was meant for something else? Or was it that Maggie
didn't really hate him as much as she hated herself and Sarah.
Because I do believe that it's Maggie's pain and hatred that has
held them here."
"I don't know, Blair. I don't understand any of this. I'm just
along for the ride with you. You're the driver on this trip."
"Am I driving the truck?" Blair grinned mischievously.
"Pardon the expression, but not in this lifetime."
"Jim, I'd like to go the record right now and remind you that in
the three plus years that we have known each other, I have had
two, count them, two cars. I did not wreck the first one. It
was shot up once and then Alec finished it off. I still have the
second one. You, on the other hand, have had three vehicles.
You battered and beat the first two into early graves and if not
for Mac's Auto Salvage, the third would be dead as well. So, my
friend, which of us has a better track record?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"And then there was the damage to Simon's car. I still can't
believe that you tried to drive while you were blinded by that
golden, man."
"Sandburg..." Jim said in playful warning. The color had
returned to Blair's face and he was smiling, truly smiling. His
guide needed this diversion.
"Your insurance guy makes a bundle off you. He just loves to see
you coming. Then again, maybe not, he probably pays out every
cent you pay in!"
"I seem to recall you shooting up a couple of police cars. What
do you say to that?"
"Funny, that's not real clear to me."
"No kidding, Darwin."
"Hey, I can't be held responsible for that! Now, you, though,
shooting out the tires of your own car and making that guy crash
it into that shop! How much did that cost?"
"You're asking for it, Junior." Jim moved slowly out of his
chair, closing the distasteful diary with one hand.
"You'll have to catch me first." Blair shot out of his chair and
into the living room, the book he was reading laying forgotten on
the table.
Jim stalked him, the two of them moving around the couch. He
jumped the couch suddenly and Blair was unable to elude him. His
young partner yelped as Jim took him down to the floor, making
sure to soften the fall as much as possible. He straddled his
squirming guide and started to tickle him.
That was the last thing Jim remembered until he saw his hands
wrapped around Blair's throat. Blair's fingers clawed at his and
his face was red. He could not let go. He tried but his body
did not respond to the commands of his frantic mind. He was
going to kill his best friend. His mind screamed in denial but
his fingers tightened. Then Blair spoke. Jim was amazed that he
could manage to get any words past the chokehold that he could
not seem break.
"Please, Jim." The words were barely whispers but Jim's hearing
was out of control and it sounded more like a scream. Jim felt a
tear run down his face. Blair's next words astonished him even
more. "Please, Mama."
Jim felt his stomach lurch and suddenly he had control of his
body again. His hands flew away from Blair's neck so fast that
he struck himself in the face. He bolted for the bathroom. He
fell to his knees in front of the toilet just as the retching
began. They still had not eaten dinner but Jim lost the beer he
had drunk earlier and the coffee he had been sipping on as he
read. But it didn't stop there. Dry heaves racked his body for
several minutes before he was able to fall back onto the floor.
He lay there afraid to move. Afraid that if he tried, he would
not be able to, or that he would go after Blair again.
________________________________________________________________
Blair lay unmoving on the living room floor, gasping for breath.
He heard Jim vomiting in the bathroom but he did not yet have the
strength to go to him. His throat hurt and he could not move his
head without the room spinning above him. He could hear Maggie
screaming at him. Berating him. Swearing to punish him for
insolence. Sarah was whispering to him about how she would make
it all better. For him to let Maggie do her worst and she would
be there to fix it. He shook his head and stars exploded in his
vision. "Jim?" he croaked, despite the fact that he could still
hear retching. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed
himself up to his knees. More stars. He willed them to go away
and then rose slowly to his feet. He stumbled on the first step
but regained his balance by grabbing the back of the couch.
When the worst of the dizziness passed, he started for the
bathroom. It was quiet in there by this time but Jim was not
coming out. He made it to the door and leaned on the frame. Jim
was sitting by the toilet, a mixture of horror and misery in his
expression. Jim noticed him and a sound suspiciously like a sob
came from his Sentinel. He cleared his aching throat. "Are
you okay?"
Jim's look became incredulous. "Am I okay?" The laugh that
escaped Jim's mouth bordered on hysterical and he took a step
closer. "No!" Jim held up one hand. "Don't. I want you to go
call Simon. Tell him that we need him here."
"Jim, it's okay. We'll be fine. I know what to do."
"Well, I don't, Blair."
He could see Jim's eyes take in the damage. Blair was not
planning to look at it until he had to. "I'm okay."
"I hit you. I can see the bruise forming on your cheek. And I
can see the outline of my hands around your..." he trailed off.
"That's going to bruise too."
"It wasn't you, Jim."
"The hell it wasn't."
"Okay, your body, your hands but not your thoughts, not your
intentions, not your mind and soul, man. I trust you, Jim."
"Well, you damn well shouldn't! Now, go call Simon, like I asked
you."
"She couldn't go through with this time, Jim. She let go."
"Blair, right now, I don't really give a good goddamn about what
she did or didn't do. All I know is, we were having a good time
one minute and the next I was damn near killing you and I
couldn't stop."
"But you did."
"I couldn't fight it, damn it! Aren't you listening to me?
Aren't you even listening to yourself? You just said that *she*
stopped, *she* let go. Not me, Blair! I didn't stop it. *She*
stopped it. I would have killed you! Go and call Simon! Now,
Blair!"
Blair swallowed hard. He nodded and left Jim sitting there on
the bathroom floor. He moved numbly to the phone and called
their captain.
_____________________________________________________________
Simon Banks ran up the stairs to the third floor of 852 Prospect
and pounded on the door. He was just about to pound on it again
when it opened. A bruised and despondent Blair Sandburg stood in
the doorway. Simon reached out and turned the young man's face
to get a good look at the bruise there and then lifted his chin
to see the perfect outlines of Jim's hands on Blair's throat.
Simon swore. "Where is Jim now?"
"Still in the bathroom. He won't come out. I've been sitting in
the doorway so I could see him and talk to him. I don't like
being alone so..."
"I know, kid, I know." Simon surprised them both by pulling Blair
to him and hugging him. He released him and moved toward the
bathroom. "Come on out of there, Jim," he called before turning
back to the living room and collapsing on the couch.
"Have you eaten?" Blair asked softly.
"Yeah."
"We haven't so I'm going to turn the oven back on, okay?"
"Sure, sure." Simon waved at him. Blair stopped, however, and
Simon turned to see Jim coming toward them.
"I'm going to finish dinner, Jim."
"Okay, buddy." Sandburg continued into the kitchen and Jim sat
down on the arm of the couch. "Simon, could you stay here with
us tonight?"
"As if you could make me leave, Jim."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Simon watched them. They were both subdued and quiet. It was
unnatural and frightening. They ate and they watched TV and they
got ready for bed and the whole night, Simon could swear that he
would hear a pin drop. It was not until they were actually
headed for bed when the silence came to an abrupt end.
"Jim, where are you going?" Blair demanded as Jim started up the
steps to his bedroom.
"Simon's gonna stay in your room with you tonight, Blair. I
don't trust myself."
"Who decided that and when?"
"It wasn't discussed or anything. It's just the way it should be
right now, Chief."
"Jim--"
"Please, Blair, don't argue with me about this. Simon, you don't
mind, do you?"
"No," Simon replied simply and waited for the tirade. It did not
happen.
Blair looked sad and defeated. "Fine. Good night." He turned
on his heels and marched into his room.
Simon gave Jim a sympathetic shrug and followed him. Blair
waited patiently for Simon to settle down on the cot before he
turned off the bedside lamp, cloaking the room in darkness. He
was almost asleep when Blair's voice brought him back to full
awareness.
"He knows that all he has to do is be here and it all goes away.
Why is he pulling away?"
"He's afraid, Blair. He hurt you tonight. He doesn't want to
chance hurting you again."
"My head knows that. My heart, though..." A pause. "Good night,
Simon. I'm going to apologize in advance for waking you up with
my nightmares."
"Apology accepted, Blair. But maybe it won't have even been
necessary."
"I wish I could believe that."
Silence descended and Simon tried to close his eyes again but for
some reason he felt compelled to watch the silent figure on the
bed across the room from him. He did not want to see Blair's
nightmares. He prayed that he would not have to.
His prayers were not answered.
_______________________________________________________________
Jim lay awake in his bed. He could not sleep. Every time he
closed his eyes, he was subjected to images of his hands around
Blair's throat. He hated leaving his partner with Simon. Blair
had told him that he only needed to be close by to stop the
voices and the dreams but he could not and would not chance
hurting Blair again. After all, logic suggested that Jim would
be even more susceptible to control when he was asleep. It
certainly had worked that way with Blair. He had driven out to
Radcliff House and lay down in that garden and never remembered a
thing about how he got there. No, Jim was not going to risk
losing control in his sleep and being close enough to hurt his
Guide. This way, distance and Simon would be at least two
obstacles between he and Blair.
He wondered if Blair had even thought about the possibility of
Maggie gaining control of Jim while he was asleep. He had not,
Jim decided as he remembered the sad look in his eyes when he had
put his foot down about the sleeping arrangements. He sighed and
punched the bed with his fist. He did not want to hurt Blair's
feelings but that was a whole lot better than hurting Blair.
He extended his senses to check on his partner and his captain in
the room downstairs. Simon was awake and Jim wondered is his
captain's mind was as restless as his. Blair was asleep. He
listened to his friend's heartbeat and tried to let the familiar
sound lull him to sleep. It had worked on other occasions.
Perhaps it would work this time and allow him to keep watch on
Blair from afar at the same time.
Minutes later it seemed, he was in the Radcliff garden. He saw
the body on the bed of flower petals and stepped toward it
reluctantly. As he neared, his heart began to pound in his
chest. The body in the garden, laid out so nicely, neatly was
not Van Radcliff. Jim looked down into the still, lifeless face
of his Guide. "Blair!" he screamed as he sat up in bed.
"Jim! Get you ass down here now!" Simon's order held a note of
panic that Jim was not accustomed to hearing from his unshakable
captain. He nearly fell face first out of his bed in his haste
as his feet got tangled in the sheets.
"No! Maggie, please! I won't do it again! Please!" Blair's
voice was even more panicked than Simon's and Jim jumped the last
four steps and raced to Blair's room.
He flung open the French doors and stopped dead, his mouth
dropping open. Simon held onto Blair's legs as the younger man
tried to escape out of his window and onto the fire escape.
"Shit," Jim whispered.
"Don't just stand there, Ellison! He's stronger than he looks!"
Simon tried to shift his hold and Blair nearly got away from him.
The near escape broke Jim out of the spell that held him in place
and he moved swiftly to help Simon pull his partner back into the
window.
The extra set of hands brought another scream from Blair and more
pleas as he fought even harder. But it was no use. The two
larger men had a good hold on him and together they pulled him
back inside. As they lowered him to the floor, Jim pulled Blair
tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around him. Blair
turned pleading eyes to him and Jim nearly choked at the despair
he saw in them. "No! Don't lock me in the attic again, please!
Please, Sarah, tell her not to lock me in there again! I'll die
up there like Mama did! I swear, I won't disobey again. I won't
go back there, I promise. I just wanted a friend, that's all!
Please!"
"Blair!" Jim turned him in his arms so that he could look at his
Guide straight on and then he shook him. "Blair, wake up, Chief.
Snap out of it."
For a moment, Jim thought that he saw recognition in the blue
eyes, but his hopes crashed when Blair spoke again. "Douglas!
Please, help me."
"Shit! Blair, I'm not Douglas. You're not Van. Come on, Chief,
come back from there!"
"'Chief.'" The man in his arms smiled. "You always call me
that."
"Blair?" Jim was puzzled. "Is that you?"
"Douglas, can you take me to the train station now?"
Jim closed his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and opened
them to stare at Simon, searching for ideas in the dark brown
eyes. Simon shook his head. Jim turned his attention back to
his Guide and said the only thing he could think of that might
end the nightmare. "Yeah, Van. You rest now and I'll take you
to the station."
"Okay." Blair's hand closed over Jim's and pulled it from his
shoulder to his chest, just above his heart. Jim felt the
pounding rhythm begin to slow. "Douglas, thank you for being my
friend."
"You're welcome, Bl--Van."
Blair relaxed in his arms and his eyes drifted shut. Jim shifted
him again to keep him from falling backward onto the floor. He
waited then until Blair's breathing pattern was one of deep sleep
before he tried to get up. Simon helped him rise with Blair in
his arms and he gently placed his burden back into bed and pulled
the covers over him.
"Well, I guess I'm staying in here too," Jim whispered.
"I don't think you should have done that, Jim. Gone along with
him like that."
Jim shrugged. "What else could I do?"
It was Simon's turn to shrug. "Anyway, what did you get out of
that?" Simon nodded toward the sleeping figure on the bed.
"I think they caught him sneaking out to see Dawson. Blair was
reading earlier and found out that Van had been locked in the
attic for talking to Dawson after Sarah told him to stay away
from him. God, Simon, the longer this goes on, the more I start
thinking about Blair and Van Radcliff being the same person and
it's making me madder than hell."
"Which is probably not helping a damn thing, Jim."
Jim rubbed his eyes with one hand. "I know."
"I saw those diaries on the table. Did he get far enough to find
out what happened when they caught him sneaking out?"
"I wouldn't think so. I do think that reading about the first
incident brought this on. Anyway, we haven't found much of any
use, in my opinion, in those books. Just a lot of really
disgusting things that I would have been happier not knowing and
I was reading one of the earlier ones. Blair had one of the
later ones and was about a year away from the murders when---you
know." Jim gestured at the bruises on his friend's face, unable
to even talk about it. "I don't want to look at them anymore,
truth be known."
"Okay, you stay in here and I'll go look at those books. I want
to see what, if anything, happened next just in case we have to
deal with it tonight."
"Simon, you should go on to sleep. I'd still like you to stay in
here. I'll take the floor. If I'm in here, nothing else will
happen."
"Jim, I don't really think that either of us is going to get any
sleep tonight. Do you?"
Jim's short laugh held no humor. "No. I had a damn nightmare
myself before I heard you call me. I really don't want to close
my eyes at all right now."
"Me either. I'm going to get those books. The least I can do is
help you look for some answers while we sit up all night."
"You read those books and this might not be the only night's
sleep you lose, Simon. Some of that stuff is pretty sick and I
honestly don't think there are any answers in them."
"I'll risk it. I don't ever want to see that kind of fear and
pain on that kid's face again. I want to help and to do that, I
have to know what I'm going to be dealing with." Simon walked
out of the room then and Jim simply watched him go, amazed by and
thankful for the friends he and Blair had. *In this lifetime.*
The words floated through his thoughts, unwanted and unbidden.
___________________________________________________________
To Part 4...