A while ago our wonderful listmom posted the first three paragraphs in this story and issued a challenge. Finish this, so I did. Five weeks and 60+ pages later this is the result. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

This story is dedicated to the best group of friends a girl could have. Jo Ann, Kira, EJ, Janet, Vision, Suzanne, CJ, Danae, Shelley, Seth, Jenn (My evil fanfic twin) and all the chat regs. To my head cheerleaders SherryLou, DawnC, Tegan et all. I love you guys!!

Warnings: This monster is SO not beta’d. All mistakes are mine!! WooHoo!

Rated R for Violence and language. Owies all around!

Disclaimer: No matter how many stars I wish upon, they still don’t belong to me. Dangit! I am making no money from this so don’t sue. All I have is a very understanding DH and a muse in need of attitude retraining.

"In the face of personal disaster we can believe what we see or we can believe what we know in our hearts to be true." L. Nichols

Chapter One.

"Sandburg!" Jim's voice boomed through the bullpen.

Blair, perched at the edge of Brown's desk, stopped his conversation

with the detective and looked up. "Hey, J--" His greeting faded when he

saw the unrestrained rage on the Sentinel's face.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" In three long strides, Jim closed the difference

between them, pulling his arm back as he delivered a powerful blow to

Blair's jaw.

The anthropologist tumbled backward with the force of the blow, landing in a tangled heap behind the desk. "What the hell-?" The rest of the bullpen had been stunned into silence and temporary inaction allowing Jim to grab the observer by the neck and slam him into the wall behind Henri’s desk.

"WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?" Jim shouted punctuating the question by increasing the pressure around the young man’s neck. "WHEN?"

Blair tried to drag in enough air to speak but with Jim’s hands tightening around his throat he could barely get enough to stay conscious, at least now Henri and Simon were trying to help him by pulling Jim away. They were trying, they weren’t succeeding and Blair was getting past the point of caring as his head again connected painfully with the outer wall of the office. Rafe and Joel had now joined in the effort to remove the enraged detective from his partner before the young man was killed. Blackness began to descend upon the observer as he felt the pressure around his throat disappear, he thought briefly about trying to breathe as he fell into the void.

"SOMBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

Those frantic words penetrated the red haze shrouding the sentinel’s consciousness and he ceased struggling against the three men that held him. He took in the scene around him with fresh eyes and an overwhelming fear gripped his stomach threatening to make him sick. His gaze was morbidly rooted to the still form of his partner as Rafe tried to coax air into the young man. Instantly his senses were wide open cataloging his guides condition, the slow weak heart beat, the tight shallow breathing, the sickly blue white pallor, the hand shaped bruises on his neck, the purpling bruise on his jaw and the unmistakable scent of blood. "Oh my God, Oh My God." He whispered over and over quietly. He had done this. He had tried to kill his partner, his best friend. He had wanted to do it. But why?

Simon Banks turned on his best detective with fury in his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted. "What the hell were you doing?" Jim didn’t respond. "Brown, Taggart I want him booked, get him out of my sight and don’t forget to read the son-of-a-bitch his rights!"

Joel turned Jim away from his partner and cuffed his hands behind his back, he and Brown led the detective quietly from the bullpen. Neither man could believe what they had just witnessed and their hearts were heavy with the knowledge that they had seen the end of something special.

Chapter Two.

Captain Simon Banks paced the waiting room of Cascade general with great strides, struggling silently with the morning’s events. He vaguely wondered if he were sill at home in bed caught in the grip of a nightmare. God how he wished that were true. It would mean he weren’t at the hospital waiting to find out how much damage had been inflicted on the young observer he had developed a grudging respect for. It would mean his best detective and good friend weren’t back at the station being booked for assault and attempted murder. It would mean that two very important lives had not just gone to hell. He would take a lifetime of nightmares over this any day.

The paramedics had to work hard to stabilize Blair after they had arrived finally having to intubate him to re establish his airway. It was a frightening sight; one that Simon had seen before and hoped never to see again. The kid could have died and for a minute Simon thought he had.

What had gone wrong with them? That question had been playing in his mind since the whole mess began, according to Brown and Taggart, Jim wasn’t talking and he didn’t know if Blair would have the answers when he woke up. What could possibly make the younger detective turn on his partner, make him want to kill his partner? Simon had no doubt that was his intent, he had never seen that kind of rage in Jim’s face before. It was a look of murder that chilled the captain to the bone. He had not been looking into the eyes of his friend, he had not been looking into the face of a man he even knew. There was more than the obvious that was very wrong. What happened would never happen to these men, Jim would never turn on his partner like that, it would never happen. It had happened though, something somewhere had broken and unleashed a monster inside of James Ellison.

"Captain Banks?"

Simon turned to see the doctor standing at the entryway. "How is he?" He closed the distance between them in two long strides.

"Right now he’s critical but stable." Dr Sayer saw the Captains expression fall. "That sounds worse than it actually is Captain, though his injuries are serious he’s sustained a skull fracture, right now the swelling isn’t severe and we’re trying to keep it that way. Our biggest concern is the trauma to his neck and throat, the swelling there is a big problem and we cant maintain his airway without a tube. We’ve got him on meds to help reduce the swelling but it will take a bit of time for it to go down. As far as we can tell there was no other damage to his throat other than some severe bruising. His jaw is bruised but not broken and he had a number of deep bruises on his back and shoulders. Who ever was responsible for his injuries had to have been very strong to do that kind of damage. I know all of this sounds terrible Captain but he’s a healthy young man and none of his injuries are life threatening. The respirator will breathe for him until the swelling obstructing his airway goes down. Like I said the swelling associated with the skull fracture is not severe and we’ll keep it that way. He wasn’t oxygen deprived to the point we need to worry about brain damage from that. He’ll pull through this, it’s just going to take some time."

Simon nodded. "Can I see him?"

The doctor smiled at him. "Of course, but only for a few minutes, we have him in ICU now, hopefully tomorrow we’ll be able to move him to a regular room." She led the captain out of the waiting room. "You know where it is, room six. Tell the nurses station I’ve authorized the visit and follow all their instructions. I have other patients to check on, but I will be up a little later." She turned to leave and stopped facing him again. "Is Detective Ellison out of town, I’m surprised he’s not here."

Before Simon could answer her beeper went off and she bid him a quick farewell. The captain was relieved, he didn’t think he could have told her or anyone else that Jim Ellison was the one who put his partner in the hospital. The elevator doors slid open and Simon stepped in, leaning heavily against the side of the car he closed his eyes and prayed once again that this was only a dream.

Chapter Three.

Jim stared blankly at the wall of his empty holding cell, being a cop they had separated him from the general population until his arraignment. "Oh my God." He whispered. He was going to be arraigned for the attempted murder of Blair Sandburg and for the life of him he didn’t know how it had happened. He didn’t know where the blinding rage had come from or why it had suddenly vanished. He had tried to strangle his best friend and he had felt an intense pleasure listening to the kid’s heartbeat frantically and then slow. The thought of it now made him ill, it wasn’t him, he wasn’t in control. "Who else was it then Jim?" he heard Blair’s voice ring in his head accusing him. "No one else was there man."

Jim let out a long frustrated sigh and leaned back against the cold concrete wall. He couldn’t believe what he had done, he’d shattered the life of his partner and friend and taken himself out as well. There was a crushing sense of loss sweeping over him, he had destroyed his existence, ripped apart the fabric of his life and he couldn’t even explain why. He didn’t know, he honestly didn’t know.

The sentinel closed his eyes against the incessant pounding in his skull, the pain had been with him all day and showed no signs of ending anytime soon. Even with the pain dials turned all the way down he was at the edge of physical agony. The headache had been intensifying all morning until he’d attacked Blair. As he thought about it Jim caught a fragment of a thought, more of a realization, he was in no pain during the attack. Before the sentinel had a chance to wrap his mind around that fact the pressure inside his skull increased dramatically and he screamed before the pain swept him into the cover of darkness.

Chapter Four.

Simon had been at the hospital for almost twelve hours, his heart and mind were heavy with doubt and remorse. He was also angrier than he had been in a very long time. "Dear God." he thought. "What happened?" there was no explanation, nothing he could find within his heart or soul to reconcile the fact that he was sitting at the bedside of Blair Sandburg staring at the still, pale face, staring at the bruised neck and wondering what he was going to do and say when the young man woke up. "God damnit to hell!" he cursed silently. "When’s it going to be enough? When are you going to leave this kid alone?" his silent anger threatened to spill over and be quiet no longer. There had to be a reason for this, he’d known Jim Ellison a long time and there was no way the man he knew would ever do anything like this. No way in hell. "So what then?" Simon asked himself. "Why did it happen? Something had to be going on, someone else had to be involved. The detective, no the man he knew and called friend would never brutally attack anyone let alone his partner without provocation or out side influence.

Simon knew with grim certainty that the real crime had yet to be solved, he knew he had nothing to go on and an investigation on Ellison’s behalf would be seen as misguided loyalty to one of his own. Jim had attacked and tried to kill Blair infront of a room full of witnesses. Case closed. There was more to it than that and Simon knew it, now he just needed to prove it.

His time with Blair was up and he left the cubicle quietly, he pulled out his cell phone once he hit the parking lot. He had some calls to make. Before he could dial the phone it rang. "Banks." He answered.

"Captain-."

"What is it Brown?" he asked impatiently.

"Ellison is being taken to the hospital. He was found in his cell after Officer Rhodes heard him scream. His heart had stopped sir, they don’t know why."

"Oh Jesus." The captain swore, if he had any doubts about Ellison’s innocence they were gone. "I’m still at the hospital. I’ll check it out. Brown I want you and a forensics team to go to the loft. I want Rafe and Connor to retrace Jim’s day before he came in and I want a forensics team on his desk and in the break room and anywhere else he could have come into contact with anything. I want Taggart here in twenty minutes!"

"Captain?" Brown’s voice was hesitant.

"Just do it!" Simon barked into the phone. "I want case files searched I want the name of everyone who would have reason to take down Sandburg and Ellison and I want it yesterday!" without waiting for a response he hung up on the younger Detective and headed back to the emergency room.

Chapter Five.

There was silence in the bullpen as the members of Major Crimes came together to listen to what Henri Brown had to say. The days events had been trying for all of them, they had witnessed something none of them thought they would ever see and it had shaken the team to its very foundation. They had tried unsuccessfully to focus on the jobs they were assigned to do, each in their own way trying to come to terms with the images of the attack that were still too fresh in their minds. There was no reason to what had happened and each of them knew it.

"Listen up everyone. I just talked tot he Captain and we all have new jobs to do, it’s obvious he thinks there is something more going on here and I’m inclined to believe him, I suspect most of you were already thinking along those lines as well." Brown cleared his throat, the strain of the day had worn on him especially hard. He had a front row seat to Ellison’s attempted execution of the Observer and he wasn’t going to be getting the visage of Blair’s wide terrified eyes out of his head anytime soon. He shook his head to clear away the image, now was definitely not the time to loose his focus. "Megan you and Rafe need to retrace Jim’s steps today. Joel Captain Banks wants you at the hospital. Rhonda Simon needs case files pulled, get Rafferty in here to go over them with you and pull he names of anyone who they busted that’s been recently released from prison. Call Davis in forensics and have them go over Jim’s desk and the break room and anywhere else they can think of to check where he may have been exposed to anything…. Yeah I know it’s vague but Simon wants this and right now we have Zero to go on. I’m going to be at the loft with another team and see if we cant get anything from there."

No questions were asked, they all took their assignments and got to work. Not a one had confirmation that this had been a deliberate attack on two of their own but not a one of them doubted that’s exactly what it was.

Joel Taggart grabbed his jacket and headed tot he parking garage, he was angry, as he knew his fellow officers were. Someone or someone’s had tried to take down two of his friends and they had done it in a way to make each man suffer as much as possible. It was sadistic and he silently wanted to be alone with the bastard responsible when they caught him. They would catch him, they knew now and it would only be a matter of time before they found whoever was responsible for this. It was time he returned the favor these men had done him, and he would be watching their backs for a change. "Watching their backs." He said quietly. "If Jim dies…" he left the thought unfinished, it was a concept he wouldn’t entertain. Ellison would pull through, both men would pull through, they had to.

"Hey Taggart." Detective Johnson from robbery called out as he fell into step beside the former Bomb Squad captain. "What’s this about Ellison attacking his partner?"

"Just what you heard Dave, Detective Ellison assaulted Blair Sandburg in the bullpen." Joel said tersely, he did not like the man walking beside him, as far as he knew no one did. Johnson seemed to get a perverse gleam in his eye every time an officer went down. The man was a nut case and Joel wondered how in the hell he had ever made it through the academy, let alone become a detective?

"Tough break." Johnson said lightly as if it were no big deal. "Guess there will be an opening then."

It took every ounce of restraint within Joel Taggart’s soul not to put the asshole talking to him through the nearest wall. The glare he leveled at the younger man was enough to let him know he’d overstepped his bounds and Johnson beat a hasty retreat. There was more than one thing not right about the man and Joel eyed him all the way to the exit. They were investigating with nothing to go on and Joel thought that maybe they needed to look within as well as without.

Chapter Six.

Simon Banks found himself for the second time in 14 hours pacing the confines of the ER waiting room. He felt caged, bound, impotent. He was unable to do anything more than he’s already done for his men until he found out about Ellison’s condition. This was not a position he was accustomed to and every fiber of his being screamed against it. He was the Captain damnit and he was expected to get results. How could you get results when you didn’t know what you were searching for? He let out a weary sigh, his men and women would find out what was behind the attack on his man, they had to. He had complete faith in the people that made up his team.

"Simon?"

The police captain turned to see Joel Taggart standing behind him. "Joel, tell me what happened at the station. What happened to Jim?"

"We honestly don’t know Simon. He was in cardiac arrest when they found him. That’s all I know and I’ll take it there has been no word on him." Joel’s voice was tight with the strain of the day.

"No." Simon shook his head. "Not a Goddamn peep, all I know is he was alive when they brought him in!"

"How about the kid, how’s he doing?" Joel was hoping for some good news, they’d had enough of the bad to last a lifetime. The defeated look on the captain’s face told him he wasn’t going to get it.

"The same, he’s holding his own but he still hasn’t come to." He began to pace again out of frustration. "Damnit Joel! Do you have any idea how Blair’s going to feel when he wakes up?" his voice was rising in volume as he continued. "After everything those two have been through, this…. Jesus! Jim attacked him, even if we can prove he didn’t do it of his own free will, how’s the kid ever going to trust him again? Jim nearly killed him for Christ’s sake!"

"Simon! Simon!" Joel held up a hand to quiet his friend. "Give them both some credit. We’ll find the truth here and they’ll deal with it. The two of them are an amazing pair and they will be fine…hell yeah it’s going to take time, but they’ll get trough it like they have with everything else."

"When’s it going to be too much, Joel?"

"I hope to God never Simon." He took hold of Simon’s arm and led him out of the waiting room. "We need to talk and we need a little less company to do it."

Simon was too tired to argue so he allowed himself to be led out beyond the door of the ER. "What is it Joel?" he asked as they were safely out side and away from other ears.

"As I was leaving I had an interesting conversation with Dave Johnson about Jim attacking Blair." He paused not completely sure of what he was going to say next. "Simon I think we should look within the department as well. Dave said and I quote ‘Tough break, I guess there will be an opening then’ he sounded happy about it! I wanted to punch the guy!"

"You didn’t did you?" the glare his colleague sent in his direction told Simon all he needed to know. It was true Ellison wasn’t the most popular guy in the world and there was even more resentment of Sandburg’s observer status. He hated to admit it but what Joel was saying was plausible. "Okay Joel I want you to check it out…. Discreetly and let me know if you come up with anything."

Joel nodded "will do Simon, and keep us posted from here will ya?"

"You’ll know right after I know." He assured as he turned to re enter the hospital and continue his wait. "I hope someone finds something soon, I’ve got a feeling that neither of them is supposed to be alive right now." He added silently.

Chapter Seven.

Shadows, whispers, nothingness and pain. His world his life consisted of only this. Anger, fury, hatred, and violence all companions to his memory. Too many questions and a lifetime of two few answers, but only one wish "Just let me die."

He floated somewhere between his corporeal life and the next, not caring what lie ahead and desperately not wanting to go back. The darkness was his home now and he was safe here, only disconnected notions to fill him, but no real sensations. He could not be touched, he could not be hurt he could be simply nothing. Shameful coward, he knew to leave like that. It was the way it was. "Just let me die."

Why were they fighting for him? Why did they need for him to live, he didn’t want it. Living hurt and he was so tired of the pain. He had done the unspeakable and hurt another, a friend, a brother. "God, just let me die!"

His mind screamed his wish, his heart, what had been left of it, cried out for justice. The justice he knew he deserved. His soul wept a marrow deep sorrow and remorse. "Let me go."

Still he lived, his heart still beat, blood still coursed freely through his veins in open defiance of his will. He lived, he was breathing, his heart would not be still, it continued on pounding the steady rhythm of life. "Why?" no answer came, into the world of nothing he traveled his question echoing through the darkness. "Why?"

A voice carried his answer, a familiar warm and welcome sound met his ears, something he could not be hearing but yet he was.

"The world you remember is an illusion. Your crime was not your own. Nothing has been lost, unless you choose to let it go."

The voice brought the glow of light into his world, no longer blind to the truth, he knew there would be no justice if his wish were granted. His hands his strength had been the tool of another. It had been the realization he’d come to before he lost his grip on the light. His anger resurfaced, polarized this time to what it had been earlier. His fury was righteous and his will changed. The harm would be answered in force, he was no one’s pawn. He raged to live, to make right what had been done to them. His guide would be avenged, they would both be avenged.

Chapter Eight.

Simon listened to the doctor’s words in disbelief, Jim had been drugged. With a combination of hallucinogens and behavior modifiers that baffled even the doctors working on him. The drugs had caused his heart failure and they were not sure he would pull through. "Would this combination have caused him to become violent?"

"Absolutely!" the doctor said with out hesitation. "It altered his brain chemistry, Captain banks we’re looking at more than a one time exposure here, there are indications of long term usage here. Some of these drugs take time to work through a person’s body and others given in too high a dosage can cause permanent muscle damage. I’m not indicating that Detective Ellison took these on purpose, there is no High involved here. They would have been used to alter his behavior with the right stimuli. You have a situation here captain, your detective has been poisoned."

"Thank you Dr Franklin. I need a copy of the Tox screen you’ve done and I’m going to have guards on Ellison and Sandburg from now on. They are not to be removed under any circumstances, I assure you they will not interfere with your treatment, but they will be there." Simon asserted himself needlessly.

"I would expect nothing else, I would say that the safety of your men is a top priority for both of us." Dr Franklin agreed.

"When can I see Jim."

"Give us another half an hour to get him settled, we’ll be keeping him in CCU until his heart can keep an even and consistent rhythm." The doctor looked at his chart. "Seventh floor room three."

"Thank you again." Simon turned to leave the building, calls needed to be made now that they finally had something to go on. He called Joel Taggart first. "Joel, Jim was drugged. I’m having the Tox report faxed to Serena. I need you to start looking for drug connections, this stuff was pretty specialized. Look into drug cases the people in question were involved with, this was a special brew, that has to give us something."

"Can do Simon." Joel replied. "Did they tell you if Jim will be alright?"

Simon took a deep breath. "They don’t know Joel. They Just don’t know."

Simon ended the call and made the same call to the bullpen, telling Rhonda and Rafferty to look for the same things. God help them if they didn’t find a connection soon.

Simon trudged wearily back into the hospital, unaware of the scrutiny he was receiving from the occupants of a black sedan just fifty feet away.

Chapter Nine.

Blair Sandburg hurt…everywhere. There was no way to get around that fact, as it was the first thing he’d become aware of. The second thing he’d become aware of was the rigid pressure in his throat and he panicked. Memories came flooding back, Jim hitting him and the cold rage he saw in his sentinel’s eyes as he was being strangled. Jim had tried to kill him and that memory brought with it a fear the young man had never known fueling the panic he felt from the pressure still bearing down on his throat. Blair tried to escape but his body betrayed him, his arms and legs were too slow to respond to his commands and it left him open and vulnerable to the man who wanted him dead.

"Blair! Blair!"

A familiar voice penetrated the waking nightmare he was living, the voice commanded him to still, the voice assured him he was okay, that he was safe. The voice asked him to open his eyes and he obeyed. Slowly a dark form swam in to focus. He tried to speak his name, panic flared anew in him as his voice failed blocked by a hard pain. He looked at Simon begging with his eyes for a reprieve from the torture.

The pain and fear Simon saw in the younger man’s eyes rattled him badly. He knew this would happen, he knew the observer would be afraid. The young man had every right to be. Blair had been through a lot and he was a strong a man as Simon knew, but he had never been violently attacked by the man he thought of as his best friend and Blessed Protector. "Blair take it easy now and listen." The anthropologist’s eyes locked onto Simon, and the older man had to check a shudder that threatened to shake him. He saw a myriad of emotions in the depth of the azure eyes but only one question. "Why?"

"Why indeed?" Simon thought bitterly. He let the thought pass, he would answer that question later, if and when he could. "Blair I want you to listen to me, hear what I have to say. Do you trust me?" he received as much of a nod as Blair could muster for an answer. "First of all you’re going to be fine. You’re throat is swollen and that’s why you’re on a ventilator. They will take you off it when the swelling has gone down enough for you to breathe on your own." Blair nodded again and brought a shaking hand up to his head. "Yeah, you have a bit of a skull fracture too." If he could have he was sure the younger man would have groaned, as it was Simon saw the slight roll of his eyes. "Look Blair you need to know something. Jim was drugged, we are pretty sure that’s why he attacked you." Simon was amazed at the concern he saw in the observer’s face, all traces of the earlier fear had vanished once Simon had said the word ‘Drugged’. Blair made a writing gesture with his hand and Simon pulled out his ever-present notebook and handed it to the young man.

WILL HE BE OKAY?

Simon hesitated but only briefly. The kid deserved the truth. "It doesn’t look good Blair. The drugs in his system caused him to go into cardiac arrest. He’s alive and holding on, but they just don’t know if there has been any damage to his heart." He was taken off guard by the rare anger he saw in Blair’s eyes, a fury he’d never seen blazed within their depths.

WHO DID THIS?

"We don’t know, but I have everyone working on it." Simon said and hoped he now would not be making a hollow promise. "We will find them Sandburg and they will pay." His last word held the private unacknowledged desire that they would be taken down hard.

I’M HOLDING YOU TO THAT SIMON.

Before Simon had a chance to respond the doctor came in to check on her patient. "It’s good to see you awake Mr. Sandburg." Blair nodded slightly in response but gave the doctor no more acknowledgement, his gaze was still firmly fixed on the Police Captain. Simon knew he was waiting for a response, he was waiting for a promise. "We will find them." He reiterated.

"We’re going to do a quick exam Captain. If you’ll step outside for a moment, you can come back when we’re done." Dr Sayer politely pointed to the door.

Blair shook his head a vehemently as he could and scribbled furiously on the paper.

STAY WITH JIM, I’M FINE. HE’LL NEED SOMEONE THERE WHEN HE WAKES UP!

"Okay Sandburg." Simon replied and turned to leave, at the door he faced the young man again. "I meant what I said, we WILL catch them."

I KNOW.

Chapter Ten.

Three days had passed, Blair was off the ventilator and finally able to get his feet underneath him. He ached all over but the intense pain that had been plaguing him had abated to manageable levels but he still had no voice and that among many other things was frustrating him fiercely.

They had still not allowed him to see Jim and the separation was making him crazy. He needed to be near his friend, he needed to offer what comfort, what protection he could. It had become painfully obvious during his discussions with Simon that Jim was the primary target in this situation. The men and women of major crimes were building a case against a fellow officer, but they lacked the one thing that could assure his sentinel’s safety. Evidence. Jim was still very much at risk, his condition had improved steadily since he was brought in twelve hours after Blair had arrived. Jim had not regained consciousness and Blair worried that his friend was waiting for something. Jim did not know it wasn’t his fault. He did not know he had been drugged. He did not know that someone else had manipulated the situation. He did not know that someone wanted him out of the picture one way or another. Without that knowledge the sentinel was unable to protect himself and the mantle fell to Blair but he was being kept away.

He decided enough was enough, he was ready to check himself AMA if need be, he would be at his friends side. Blair needed to be there, to wash away the guilt within the man he thought of as a brother. The man who would return to the conscious world thinking he had tried to kill him. Those thoughts and feelings would be gone before they had a chance to take hold. He would see to it, his partner would have to be clear if they were going to find the bastards that had done this to them. Blair swore there was no place on the planet the person or persons responsible could hide from them. He would hunt them, he would find them and they would pay,

He knew his friends and colleagues were doing their best and he admired their dedication, but if they couldn’t find what they needed to take Johnson and whoever he was working with down, then he would. There was no way in hell this wrong would go unanswered. They had attacked the bond that held sentinel and guide together, attacked the trust it had taken so long to build and they would be held accountable for that crime.

Blair looked up from his bed as the familiar face of his doctor appeared at the door.

"How do you feel this morning Blair?" she said as she approached his bedside somewhat hesitantly. Her trepidation did not go unnoticed by her patient AND Blair scribbled furiously into his notebook.

WHAT’S WRONG? WHAT HAPPENED? IS JIM OKAY?

Dr Sayer frowned. "Blair, detective Ellison’s condition deteriorated rapidly during the night. I’m sorry but-." She stopped short seeing an unforgiving sorrow in his face.

HE’S DEAD ISN’T HE?

Chapter Eleven.

Inspector Megan Connor scanned yet another case file from Dave Johnson’s time in narcotics. She had no love for them man in question, but still her task made her heartsick. She knew cops went bad, some were just bad to begin with, but this was different. It was personal for her, two friends had been taken down and her fellow detectives were convinced another cop had been responsible. The more she investigated the more convinced she was as well.

There had been whispers coming through the grapevine for the last few days about the incident. Whispers that several individuals within the department were very glad to see a major crimes division without Ellison and Sandburg. One of those individuals was Dave Johnson and it infuriated her that this man was so cock sure. All she would really need to make her a happy woman was five minutes alone with him, five short minutes and that man wouldn’t be cock anything.

"Hey Connor, anything?"

Megan looked up at detective Rafe and shook her head. "Nothing but I have a long way to go." She gestured toward the stack of files still waiting to be read.

The handsome detective grimaced and sat down across from her "I’ll give you a hand with these." He said taking half the pile and beginning to read.

An hour had passed when Megan’s exclaimed "Bugger!" broke the silence of the bullpen.

"What Megan?" Rafe asked.

"I found it!" Megan hissed. "That sonofabitch, I found the connection!" she showed Rafe the file.

Rafe carefully read the arrest report and swore. "Damn!" he swore. "Damn! Damn!"

"Rafe call the Captain and tell him what we’ve found!" Megan grabbed her coat off the back of her chair. "I’m on my way to the hospital, tell him not to leave Sandy alone and to get Allen off guard detail!"

Rafe dialed the phone, still hearing Megan’s not so muffled curses as she reached the elevators. How could they have missed this? He only hoped he wasn’t too late to keep anymore damage from being done.

Chapter Twelve.

Dr Sayer slowly shook here head as she read the scrawled message. "No Blair he’s alive, I’m sorry I didn’t say that properly."

HOW BAD?

"We don’t expect him to live much longer." The grief she was witnessing was profound and she felt deeply sorry for the news she was delivering. "His systems are failing, we don’t know why, but we can’t stabilize him. I know you want to see him and I think you should. I’m sorry, I wish there was more we could do."

I NEED TO SEE HIM NOW.

The doctor nodded. "I’ll have an orderly take you to him…I’m very sorry."

Blair gave a slight nod as she turned to leave. A pain had settled into his heart, overwhelming him. How could this happen? He was going to loose his best friend, why? For what? "NO!" his mind railed against it. "It can’t happen, he can’t die!"

Thoughts raced through his head. "There has to be more to this, they don’t know why they can’t stabilize him. God Jim! You can’t give up! I haven’t told you yet! He’d been getting better, why all of a sudden now he’s worse?" Blair wracked his brain trying to find anything he’d read or knew that would help him, that would help them both. There had to be something, something he was missing. "Where is that orderly damnit?" he agonized for his voice, he needed to be heard! He had to be at his sentinel’s side now! "I’m coming Jim and I swear I will not let you die, not now not after all this!"

The orderly finally arrived with his wheel chair, with help Blair levered him self from the bed to the chair. "Okay Mr. Sandburg." The tall wiry man said in an overly cheerful voice. "Hold tight were going for a little ride."

Blair rolled his eyes wondering what planet they found this guy on, the tone of the orderly’s voice grated on his nerves, but there was something Vaguely familiar about it as well. He ignored the man’s incessant chatter in favor of his own thoughts. He was so wrapped up in his mind that Blair did not notice the elevator was going down instead of up. He didn’t realize when the orderly reached behind him and pressed the emergency stop. He didn’t register the fact that the man behind him had stopped talking and had begun to uncurl a length of rope from his pocket. He didn’t see the orderly loop it twice around each wrist. He was only aware of his foolish inattention when a blur of movement caught his eye immediately preceding the raw agony that blossomed around his neck.

Chapter Thirteen.

Simon Banks stood up and stretched his cramped muscles, he’d spent too many hours sitting in hospital chairs during the past few days and he was beginning to pay for it. He was where he had to be though. He looked down at the ashen face of his good friend and mourned, there was nothing more they could do and Jim Ellison was going to die. He was going to die. The thought had settled over him with devastating clarity and there was an insistent deep hurt associated with the fact that sometime during the day he was going to loose a friend. There was a sorrow that would never leave him for the knowledge the man would die never knowing he’d been exonerated, that no one held him responsible, that his guide knew the truth and did not blame him. Jim Ellison would never know his honor had been restored.

The slightest of movements from the man on the bed caught his eye. Simon thought to himself it was wishful thinking until he saw the muscles in his friends jaw clench, disturbing the formerly slack features, the beeping from the heart monitor sped up and Simon leaned in closer to the detective. "Jim?"

Lazy eyelids slid open revealing unfocused blue eyes and Simon’s name was exhaled softly on the man’s breath. "Easy Jim. It’s going to be okay."

Jim heard the words and new they were untrue. "Blair." He rasped out.

"He’s fine Jim, he knows-." He was cut off as the younger Detective’s hand shot out and grabbed his arm with surprising force.

"No! He’s in trouble…. I can hear." Exhaustion was leeching whatever energy he had remaining and he fought to force out the last word before succumbing to the beckoning darkness. "Elevator." He managed as his eyes slid shut.

Simon’s eyes widened with realization as the grip around his arms went slack. He could hear the kid, of course he could. He turned to leave, noting that Officer Davies had returned to his post and ran right into Megan Connor. "Connor we need to search the elevators for Sandburg, Jim says the kids in trouble."

"He’s right Captain." She said keeping pace with her captain’s long strides down the hall. "We need to have Officer Allen Picked up. I believe he’s a part of this."

"First things first, we need to find Sandburg." They came to the bank of elevators having six choices. "Which one?" his question was answered by a muffled curse coming from the shaft infront of him. "Help me get these doors open!" he shouted.

Connor and an orderly helped Simon pull the doors to the elevator open and they could all clearly hear the sounds of a struggle coming from the car some three floors below them. Simon turned to the orderly. "We’re going to need a doctor to meet us down there!" he barked and took off for the stairs with Megan hot on his heels.

Chapter Fourteen.

The second the garrote tightened around his throat, Blair was on his feet, surprise pain and anger fueling his strength he threw his body backwards on to his assailant slamming him into the side of the elevator. The pressure and pain encircling his neck remained as he reached back and drove his thumbs into the other man’s eyes, by sheer luck he managed perfect placement of his hands and the orderly shrieked and cursed releasing his victim. Blair was operating on instinct he turned on the man and brought his knee up hard into his assailants crotch as the man doubled over Blair grabbed him by the hair and with all his remaining strength slammed his head into the metal handrail of the car. The orderly was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Panting heavily, his eyes tearing from the reawakened pain in his throat, Blair hit the button for the next floor and slid bonelessly down the door of the elevator. His body had had enough, tears of pain streaked down his face and his jaw trembled in sympathetic reaction to the agony that throbbed throughout his neck and head.

Simon drew his gun as a ding signaled the elevator had reached it’s destination, the doors slid open and Simon stepped back as the body of Blair Sandburg toppled out of the car. Megan brushed passed him and was cuffing the unconscious orderly as Simon knelt beside the prone form of the young observer. Blair’s eyes were tightly closed but the moisture streaming from them bore a silent testament to the pain the younger man was enduring. Simon lay a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder as he re holstered his gun. "It’s okay Blair." He felt the tremors shaking the anthropologist and noted the unheard sobs catching in his chest. The young man’s eyes opened and he moved restlessly arching his back and neck in an effort to escape the pains in his body. Simon’s heart clenched at the sound of Blair’s ragged and strained breathing, he pushed sweat-dampened hair away from the young man’s face. "Relax Blair just try to relax."

Blair reached up to the captain with a trembling hand, catching his shirtsleeve with as much strength as he could muster and mouthed. "Jim."

"He’s doing okay." Simon replied quietly. "He was awake, he knew you were in trouble. Told us where to look." He smiled at the kid. "Seems like you had the situation pretty well handled though." He said as he glanced at the still unconscious orderly.

Blair managed a weak grin before his eyes slid shut and he surrendered to unconsciousness.

Chapter Fifteen.

Detective Henri Brown stood up from the interrogation table with a look of disgust on his face. The man sitting infront of him wasn’t talking and Henri was getting very close to forgetting procedure and pounding the hell out of the smaller, thinner, but infinitely more annoying suspect.

The man's name was Arthur Jennings, small time muscle by night, mild mannered orderly by day. "Right." Henri thought. The man had been hired at the hospital the day after Blair and Jim had been admitted. He studied the smaller man, sitting slightly hunched in his seat, no doubt still feeling the effects of his run in with the police observer. Brown took not so silent satisfaction in the spectacular bruise covering a good part of the man’s high forehead. "Serves you right you sonofabitch." He silently commented. "Look Mr. Jennings we have you dead to rights on the assault charge, you’re going down for a long time. Do your self a favor, tell us who hired you and we’ll go to the DA with your cooperation." This would be the fifth different way he’d worded this particular tactic. If the perp didn’t crack soon he was going to let Megan have a go at him and from their earlier conversation Megan would go for what counted. The man would walk out of there a eunuch if she didn’t get what she wanted.

"I’m not stupid, I’m going down any way. What difference will a few months of a year make to me." The man sneered.

"A big difference if the inmates think you’re in for molesting a child." Henri leaned in so he was nose to nose with the suspect. "A big fucking difference man."

Jennings Blanched. "You wouldn’t!"

"You bet that bruised little package of yours I would." He snarled. "You should know how shit like that gets around on the inside. So these are your choices man. Tell us who hired you or spend the next ten to twenty as someone’s wife. You would definitely be the Bitch in the relationship."

"Okay." Jennings sagged further into his chair. "A guy named Manny Bruce comes to me three days ago and says he’s got a job for me. Never said who put down the cash, just says he wants this guy Sandburg done. Says there’s a cop too some guy named Ellison. I don’t want the cop, no way, but I says I can do the kid easy. So I get hired on in the hospital and today the kid just falls into my lap right. Manny said the kids in rough shape so taking him out should spiff, easy. He wasn’t supposed to fight back." He rubbed his forehead.

Henri was asserting every ounce of self-control he had not to pull out his gun and shoot the man before him. He was talking about killing Blair, like it was no big thing. He was talking about taking out a friend and he seemed pissed that the kid fought back, like Blair had broken some rule by not allowing himself to be strangled…. again. The detective took a deep breath and calmly asked two questions. "Who is after Ellison and where can we find Manny Bruce?"

"I don know who Manny got to do the cop. I swear I don know. If you want to get to Manny you go to the Bend and as for Tyler. That’s all I know."

Brown grabbed Jennings by the collar "You better fucking pray it’s enough!"

Chapter Sixteen.

I WANT TO SEE HIM NOW!

Dr Sayer looked at her frustrating patient, a patient who until twenty minutes ago had been unconscious. "Blair, listen I know you want to see him and I think it’s a good idea that you do, but you’re in worse shape than you were this morning and you need to take it easy and not get excited. Blair you can’t do him any good-." He held a hand up to silence her and held out his notebook.

GET ME THE PAPERWORK! I’M OUT OF HERE!

The doctor closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten and then to twenty. "You are not checking out!" she said tersely. "I will take you to see him my self. You can stay for ten minutes-."

ONE HOUR.

"Twenty."

FORTY.

"A half hour Blair that’s it."

DEAL!

His look of triumph made Dr Sayer rethink her oath. The man was worse than his partner! "Fine, I’ll be right back with a chair."

I’M SORRY. I JUST NEED TO SEE HIM.

She sighed, she was beginning to understand what the younger nurses meant when they said he could get what ever he wanted. That he definitely could. Her patient was stubborn, bull headed, uncooperative and devilishly charming at the same time. It was infuriating and she was well aware she was being manipulated, but she understood his need to see his friend. Dr Sayer only wished he understood it was her job to see to it that he kept healing and the incident this afternoon hadn’t helped. He’d sustained further injury to his already badly damaged throat and there was considerably more swelling then there had been even the day before. He was having difficulty breathing and too much exertion would only increase his body’s need for oxygen and in his current condition he could not meet that need. The last thing he needed right now was to pass out. Did Blair Sandburg, the personal bane of her existence understand that? Of course not! Did she have it in her to be overly annoyed about that? No! "Why?" she asked herself. "Because he’s got those damnedable puppy dog eyes, that if I were twenty years younger I would be falling all over my self for!" infuriating was right and it described her patient to a tee.

I MEAN IT. I’M SORRY FOR BEING A PAIN IN THE ASS.

She smiled. "I know, but if you think by apologizing you’ll get to stay longer you’re out of luck young man." She caught a quick glance of the demi-pout that crossed his face as she turned to leave. "I’m not a total pushover."

Blair leaned back into his pillows and tried to ignore the sum of the aces vying for his attention. He also stubbornly refused to think about the attack this afternoon. He could deal with that later after he saw Jim. He wasn’t sure he’d heard Simon correctly when the older man had said that Jim had regained consciousness. Dr Sayer had said that Jim’s vitals had improved throughout the day and Blair was encouraged by the news but he still needed to see it for him self. He needed to be by his friend’s side. There was something missing within him that had been gone since Jim attacked him in the bullpen. The sense of reality in the relationship they shared had been stripped away leaving only this disconnected nightmare in its wake. It was time to take back their friendship from the jaws of the animal’s bent on destroying it. It was way past time.

Chapter Seventeen.

Heart monitors. God he hated the sound of heart monitors, he hated what they meant. Injury, doubt, waiting, agony. Still the sound assured him his best friend was alive and stable. Now if only Jim would wake up again. Blair held his sentinel’s hand gently in his own, the warmth of it easing the chill that had been soul deep within him for days. He silently begged for his friend’s eyes to open so his desperate want could be quelled. "Open your eyes, Jim. If you can see me you’ll know. I’m still here." No one heard his prayer. "Please man, I don’t have much time."

The minutes ticked by as he studied the slack features of the man who had become a brother to him. The man who held his trust. Anger still burned red hot in his heart at the crime that had been committed against them. He knew his friend would be horrified at what he had done, regardless of the fact he had been drugged he would still try and hold himself responsible. Blair couldn’t have that. He had suffered enough they had both suffered enough. He could put an end to the guilt if Jim would only open his eyes. "Come on Jim, it’s time to come back. I’m waiting and there is so much we need to do."

The limp hand he held clenched slightly. He wanted so badly to call out his name, to help him back into this world, but he was muted. He reached out with his free hand and lightly stroked the face of his best friend. "God Jim! How do I get through to you?" his heart leapt into his throat when the older man leaned into his touch. "That’s it Jim, come on." He encouraged in silence. He felt Jim’s hand tighten around his, heard the soft moan come from his mouth and felt like jumping with joy. "Open your eyes man. Open your eyes."

It happened, just for a moment but it happened. Jim opened his eyes briefly but they slid closed before he could focus them. His body moved restlessly as his return to consciousness continued. Blair did the best he could to calm his friend. His hand traveled from his sentinel’s face to his shoulder letting Jim know the only way he could that he wasn't alone and that it was safe to come back. After excruciatingly long minutes the older man’s eyes finally opened and stayed open. Blair watched the laser blue eyes track around the room in confusion and then lock on him. For a moment his partner’s expression was unreadable and then he saw the realization and shame mar his precious face. Blair immediately shook his head and began writing. Before he could finish he heard Jim whisper.

"I’m sorry."

The look of grief on Jim’s face tore at Blair in a way nothing else ever had, he felt the hot sting of tears fill his eyes as his vision blurred through them.

IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT.

Jim turned away from him, but Blair gently but insistently turned the sentinel’s face back toward him.

IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT! YOU WERE DRUGGED! I DO NOT BLAME YOU!

"You should."

Blair shook his head. "No man I shouldn’t. And neither should you." he thought.

JIM, YOU WERE ATTACKED THE SAME AS I WAS. YOU’RE A VICTIM NOT, ARE YOU READING THIS? NOT THE CRIMINAL. LET IT GO MAN, LOOK AT ME AND LET IT GO. YOU KNOW THE TRUTH. LOOK AT ME AND LET IT GO.

Jim did look, he looked deeply into his guide’s dark blue eyes and he saw no blame, no fear, no hostility. He saw only the warmth he had come to rely upon, the open acceptance that had always been there before. He looked and he saw the truth. It overwhelmed him, the fear he felt when he was sitting alone in the jail cell was replaced with relief and thankfulness that his brother was alive and still his brother. "Thank you." his guide smiled and it was a sight he thought he would never see directed at him again, that brilliant smile that easily told him it would all be okay and he believed.

ANYTIME MAN.

Chapter Eighteen.

Megan Connor and Joel Taggart approached the front door of Officer Dennis Allen’s home, hoping to have one more piece of the puzzle fall into place. Megan had noted that Allen was one of the arresting officers in the Tibidoux case and that had connected him to both Dave Johnson and the arrested Chemist. Georges Tibidoux had been arrested for Drug Trafficking and possession with intent six months prior, the case was handled poorly by the detective in charge, Johnson, and the suspect had gotten off on a technicality. Johnson was transferred to robbery shortly after.

From what the Australian inspector had been able to put together there were strong suspicions of evidence tampering, but not enough proof to bring any charges. It all seemed very convenient, and too much of a coincidence for her to ignore. She had a feeling that Johnson had been planning to take her friends down for some time and the bastard had found the tools to do it when he’d arrested Tibidoux.

"Megan, you alright?" Joel looked at the woman who was seemingly lost in thought.

"Yeah." She replied. "Maybe a little angry."

"Were all a lot angry Megan. It’s okay, just stay focused." The younger woman nodded her head and Joel Proceeded to knock on the door. There was no answer; somewhere inside Joel Taggart there was a marked lack of surprise. He knocked again, louder, and they waited. Nothing. He and Connor began to look around the modest home, Allen’s car was in the drive indicating he was home, was the man really hiding from them?

Megan came around the back of the home and Peered into the kitchen window, her heart fell as her eyes came to rest of the bloody body of Dennis Allen. "Bugger!" she swore as she drew her gun. The back entrance of the house was partially open and she motioned to Taggart as he came around the corner. The older detective drew his weapon and the pair cautiously entered the home.

The scene inside was horrific, blood was splattered along the cabinets and pooling on the floor. The body it’s self was a mass of stab wounds, Joel didn’t think the killer had missed an inch, Dennis Allen looked as if he’d been flayed head to toe. The man’s throat was slit, slit nearly to the point of decapitation. Joel turned away from the gruesome sight while Megan radioed for forensics and the coroner.

They had reached another very dead end.

Chapter Nineteen.

"Captain?" Henri Brown stood apprehensively at Simon’s office door.

"What is it Brown?" Simon looked up from the forensics report he was reading.

"Dave Johnson has disappeared." He stepped inside. "He didn’t show for work this morning and when Megan and Taggart when to his apartment they found the place cleaned out. They’re getting lists of friends and family now.’

"God Damnit!" Simon shouted. "This is unbelievable!" he stood up and began pacing the room. "What about Bruce?"

"No one has seen him, or if they have they’re not talking." Henri shook his head. "We’re coming up empty there too."

"Shit! This is all very convenient." He hissed. "I want an APB out on both of them. I want them found! And I don’t want any more screw ups!"

"Yes sir!" Brown beat a hasty retreat.

Simon slammed the door to his office and spent the next fifteen minutes cursing. His instincts told him they were missing something very important. There had to be more to this mess than just some angry detective trying to make room for himself in the unit. Something bigger and infinitely more sinister. Simon slammed his fist into his desk out of frustration. What the hell was it? They all knew Jim had been drugged, was Dave Johnson really the mind behind this whole scheme? Some how Simon doubted it. They would more than likely be finding the bodies of both Johnson and Manny Bruce sometime with in the next few days. Dave Johnson left town, why? They had nothing on him, only suspicion. There was no evidence against him, nothing they could make stick. He arrested Tibidoux, worked with Dennis Allen and was generally an asshole. None of that constituted an IA investigation or the DA pressing any kind of charges. While they should, people did not go to jail for being assholes. Dave Johnson left town because he was scared, he packed up and left because he knew he was next. Johnson had made a deal with the devil. Simon needed to find out what name the devil was wearing this week. Simon was jarred from his thoughts by another knock at his door. "What!" he roared.

Detective Rafe opened the door. "I’m sorry sir but I thought you’d want to see this." He handed a thick file to the police captain.

"What is this?" he inquired.

"Georges Tibidoux and his long list of associations and aliases." Rafe ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "The guy is a phantom Captain. He’s been arrested at least a half a dozen times in as many states under as many names. He’s never, ever been convicted. He’s only been to trial once and that according to record only lasted fifteen minutes before the case was thrown out for improper evidence handling. In each case, the key players all suffered unfortunate accidents. People who investigate this guy suffer unfortunate accidents. Christ Captain it’s said he had his own wife killed for saying the wrong thing to the wrong persona and jeopardizing his privacy."

"What does this have to do with Ellison?" Simon was dreading the answer. The other detectives had been investigating the theft of some very volatile chemicals, the kind of chemicals used in chemical weapons.

"Jim was investigating De Soleil corp. it’s a front for Tibidoux. We didn’t catch it right away because he used it Twenty years ago in Paris. I just received the Interpol file on him and I came to see you." Rafe concluded.

"I want you to pull everything you can on De Soleil. Financial records, everything. I’m going to the hospital to speak with Jim and see how far they’d gone into the investigation." Simon tucked the file under his arm and followed the younger detective out of his office. The devil had a name, Georges Tibidoux.

Chapter Twenty.

Jim Ellison sat propped up in his bed and watched his partner sleep. He’s been moved from ICU that morning and at his and Simon’s request had been put in the same room as his guide.

Blair still slept a lot and that was fine with Jim who was doing his share of sleeping as well. Now however he was using his friend’s rest to examine him closely. He needed to assure himself the younger man was all right, he tuned into the sound of Blair’s strong steady heartbeat and let the rhythm soothe his still battered conscience.

Nightmare. That was the only word he could use to describe what they had been through, what they were still going through. Jim still suffered with the burden of memory, he remembered every second of his attack on Blair. The younger man had assured him many times that he knew it wasn’t his fault. Jim understood that but the accelerated heartbeat of his guide when they spoke of the incident betrayed a fear in the younger man that had not been there before. A fear that would not be there if Jim had not tried to kill him.

"Man you’re not happy unless you’re stewing about something."

The barley audible whisper brought Jim’s eyes up and straight into the gaze of his best friend. "I was beginning to think you’d sleep all day chief."

Blair turned his head to look out the window of their room, seeing the dusky evening sky beyond and then grinned back at the older man. "I think I pretty much have."

Jim rolled his eyes. "How’s the throat?"

"Okay." The observer was still barely whispering and would not have been heard by anyone other than his sentinel. He also did not miss the scowl on said sentinel’s face at his blatant obfuscation. "It hurts. It’s gonna hurt. It hasn’t had the best week." The younger man lightened the sting of the words with a smile. "It’s better than it was though."

"That’s good." Jim smiled. "Looks like you’re getting sprung tomorrow."

Blair tried to smile, he honestly did. As much as he hated hospitals the thought of being separated from Jim was distinctly unsettling. Yes he knew the older man would more than likely be released in a couple of days, but as they had come to learn, a lot could happen in a couple of days. There was someone out to get them, someone who was still out there. "Yeah." He finally answered.

"I thought you’d be a little happier about that."

The younger man shrugged. "I guess." He swallowed painfully. "I’m just not comfortable with it."

The sentinel understood perfectly, he was concerned about his guide’s safety. Outside the hospital he would be vulnerable to attack. He’d been attacked in the hospital and this was much easier to cover than the loft or the station or anywhere else Blair might spend his time. Jim strongly suspected that the anthropologist would be spending most of his time here with him. But he also knew the hospital staff and his doctor would not let Blair stay twenty four-seven until Jim was released. There were too many unknowns wrapped up in this situation for him to be at ease with his partner’s absence.

Still he knew Blair was very capable of looking out for himself, he’d proven that once again defending himself from the attack in the elevator. His concern was that people who wanted someone dead didn’t give up until they got it right. They were both still targets in a very dangerous hunt and they were dependent on the men and women they served with to watch their backs until they were back on their feet. Jim couldn’t help but feel they were existing in a no win situation. He glanced over at his partner and found the younger man had already drifted off to sleep again. Despite the turmoil in his mind the sentinel was not far behind.

Somewhere beyond the walls of the hospital, down one of the darkening city streets in a dingy motel room a man planned. His dark Grey eyes scanned in every detail of the pictures spread out before him, he memorized the features of the men his employer wanted him to kill. He read the words in their files; it was one of the things he liked best about this particular job. His employer was a very thorough man, and he was beginning to feel like he knew James Ellison and Blair Sandburg. Familiarity would make the kill intimate. Intimacy would allow him to make the kill painful and pain fulfilled him.

Chapter Twenty-one.

Simon Banks quietly pushed open the door of the hospital room his two friends shared. Both men were sleeping and he was loath to wake them, but he needed answers.

"Hey Simon."

The police captain looked at the bed in which his best detective was resting to find a pair of tired blue eyes looking up at him. "I thought you were sleeping."

"Off and on." He gestured to his partner. "He’s been a little restless."

Simon looked back at the young observer, noting the lines of stress and pain on his sleeping face. "Nightmares?"

"A few." Jim replied. "He’s not thrilled about the idea of being released tomorrow."

Simon chuckled softly. "That’s a first. He shouldn’t worry he’ll have round the clock protection."

"He’s not worried about himself, Simon. He’s worried about me." Jim sighed.

"I’m not surprised." Simon scrubbed a hand over his jaw as he sat. "You’ll have an officer or one of us at all times here too. Listen Jim, I need to know more about this De Soleil corporation that you’ve been investigating."

"You think there’s a tie in?" the sentinel adjusted his bed upwards to sit.

"Yeah, we found out it was a front that Tibidoux used when he was working in France. I need to know what you found out, who you talked to out there."

"Honestly Simon, I don’t have much. We just started looking into them about a week before…" He trailed off, still hesitant to sat the words. "Uh, we ended up here."

Simon didn’t miss the slight quaver to his friends voice or the mans quick glance to his sleeping partner. He could only imagine how Jim must feel, though Simon knew that Jim understood that he was not in control the day he attacked Blair, it would still be awhile before he could let go of the fact that even inadvertently he had acted without honor. That was if he could at all. Simon let it pass, he didn’t have the answers for his friend. His tired brain could barely even focus on his job let alone try to provide an emotional Band-Aid. When they were at the end of this nightmare, he knew there would be a lot of talking going on. He looked forward to it, but know he had a job to do and his men needed to live long enough to do all that talking. "Did you talk to anyone associated with De Soleil?"

Jim shook his head. "Only the receptionist, on the phone once." Jim arched his eyebrow and looked pointedly at his captain. "Sir what aren’t you telling me?"

Simon took a deep breath. "Dennis Allen is dead, Johnson packed up and blew town and no one has seen Manny Bruce since the day after you and Sandburg were admitted. The only common thread we had between Allen and Johnson was the Tibidoux arrest, Rafe did a little digging and we found that things like this happen to just about everybody who interferes with his business." He slid his fingers under his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. "It’s not much but it’s all we have."

Jim nodded grimly. "Cases have been solved on less sir."

Simon glared at his ailing detective. "Was that supposed to be encouraging?"

The younger detective shrugged. "I tried sir but that’s really Sandburg’s department."

Simon couldn’t help but chuckle. "Then call me when he wakes up, because you suck at it."

Chapter Twenty-two.

Megan Connor glanced at the man sitting in the passenger seat of her car. The big man was unusually quiet, not that she could blame him after what they’d seen the day before, still it worried her. "Do you want to talk about it Joel?"

"Not really much to talk about Megan. I’m Just frustrated." He replied, scrubbing a hand across his face. "None of this makes any sense, and I’m angry that were not making more progress."

"I know. Me too." She said quietly. "I’m afraid for them, this is much bigger than we thought and until we know for sure what direction this whole mess is coming from they’re still in danger."

"I hate this!" Joel hissed in frustration. "I fucking hate this being helpless!"

Megan’s eyes widened slightly at the older man’s unusual use of profanity but she kept her eyes on the road. She understood completely where the man was coming from. Every cop had cases they couldn’t solve. It was something they all dreaded, but this was worse because it involved an attack on their own. Some one out there was trying very hard to remove two of their brothers in arms from the fold. Being unable to find the culprit was not acceptable.

Megan had gone to her apartment the previous evening and spent a half-hour throwing things. The anger and frustration she had been pushing away from the beginning had finally caught up to her. She physically released her anger and cried out her frustrations. She had so desperately needed the release, but she felt no better in the aftermath.

Both she and Joel had spent limited time at the hospital, spending most of their days since the incident investigating very thin leads, but they were headed back to the hospital now to escort Sandburg home. Megan unsuccessfully fought against the memory of her friend’s limp body tumbling out of the elevator three days before. She had thought for one terrifying and wrenching instant that he was dead. She had flashed back to the day at the fountain, the day when she really had seen him dead. She shuddered inwardly at the memory, it had been the worst day she had experienced since coming to the states and the other day had come far too close in comparison. "He’s alive." She told her self. "They’re both alive and it’s your job to keep them that way."

She thought about the men and women she worked with, she had never imagined upon her arrival the depth of relationship she would share with them. Especially with the exceptional two men they were now trying to protect.

Blair Sandburg had made her feel welcome from the get go. His warm open nature had set her immediately at ease and she had developed an instant liking for his quirky personality. Beyond that she had seen an intensely passionate and loyal man, someone she trusted. He had quickly earned her respect and easily understood the deference given to him by the other members of Major crimes.

Detective Ellison was another matter entirely. He was grating, condescending, very close to insulting. He had a personality like sandpaper and she bristled in his presence. Over time as she learned more about the man and his unique talents she too began to understand his actions and peel back the layers of his exterior to reveal a truly amazing man. He was someone who in one breath could be ripping a person up one side and sown the other and in the next turn around and treat a victim with a gentleness that was surprising to say the least. She had seen it happen and in many ways she found her self awed by Jim Ellison.

Now she was finding herself in a near impossible position. Investigating the attempted murder of two friends and maintaining a professional detachment from her work. It simply wasn’t happening, and she wasn’t sure she could be held responsible for her actions if and when they caught the perps.

"Now who’s the quiet one?" the big detective next to her asked as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

She glanced over at him and smiled at the look of complete understanding she saw reflected in his dark eyes. "Just taking a cue from you Taggart." She teased lightly.

He chuckled. "What does Blair call it? Processing?"

Megan nodded, her face becoming solemn once again. "I think we’ll be doing a lot of processing when this whole thing is over."

"Yep." Joel agreed opening his door. "Now let’s go get Sandburg before they throw him out."

The Australian shook her head. "Never thought I’d see the day Sandy resisted getting out of the hospital."

"Simon said he’s worried about Jim. Jim’s worried that Blair will spend so much time worrying about him, that he won’t take care of himself. So we’re hired to make sure that neither man worries about the other. Blair will know that Jim is okay and Jim will know that Blair is okay and maybe, just maybe both of them will behave for a change." Joel explained as they entered the hospital lobby.

"You think this behaving thing will actually happen?" Megan asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not a chance in hell."

Chapter Twenty-three.

Georges Tibidoux was enraged. His eyes blazed with unrestrained anger, his face was red and veins were bulging out on his forehead and neck with the force of his vehemence. The man tied to the chair infront of him was helpless in the face of such ferocity and he simply waited for the end to come.

He had been a fool. Dave Johnson silently cursed himself and everyone else associated with his personal hell. How could he have thought he could take an offer from a man like Tibidoux and walk away with his life? Easy, Tibidoux had appealed to his nature and offered him money and the position within in the department he had so long desired. All he had to do was get rid of Ellison and his hippie partner, his employer already had the plan, the drug and the delivery system, all Dave had to de was make sure Ellison received the proper dosage. He had fucked up badly when he jumped the gun, filling Ellison’s ear with what he knew would send the drugged man over the edge.

Dave cringed at his stupidity, he loved a public spectacle and what better place for Ellison to take the kid down than the bullpen of major crimes. Of course he hadn’t thought far enough in advance to realize that the witnesses would be willing to help the observer before the detective had the chance to snap his neck, like he was supposed to do. Instead the kid wound up in the hospital, still very much alive, Ellison wound up in a holding cell, where again there was help ready when the nasty little side effect of the cocktail he had been given took hold, and it looked like he was still very much alive. The only dead man in the scenario was him.

He didn’t think that was quite fair. So he was now waiting for Mr. Tibidoux to finish his ranting and kill him. He was ready to be done with it, he just hoped there was some sort of after life so he could come back and haunt Jim Ellison, Blair Sandburg and spend the next fifty years throwing sharp objects at one Georges Tibidoux.

Tibidoux abruptly ended his rampage, stopping and staring intently at the man who had failed him and then tried to run. "Idiot!" he shouted. The man knew what was coming and he seemed resigned to it. Georges saw no fear in his eyes and that fueled his anger. This man would die slow; he would show fear before he died. The chemist would see to that. "Bring me the nail gun!" he ordered.

Chapter Twenty-four.

The sun ignited the western horizon over the bay as yet another day come to a close. Blair Sandburg stood at the windows over looking the water trying to see its brilliance through the fear and doubt plaguing his mind. He was alone. Not really alone, Megan was working hard in the kitchen trying to come up with the perfect comfort food, but he was alone none the less. Separated from the one person who he needed by his side, the one person who needed him as well.

He had not wanted to leave the hospital, no one understood why, trying to allay concerns that were not there. He knew Jim would recover, just as he would, he did not need to be convinced of that, but separation was death for them. No one could see that, or maybe they could and were just hoping for the best.

God he was scared. More frightened than he had ever been in his life. He grappled with his terror, trying to believe that both of them would survive the night. The demons in his mind told him it was not to be. One of those demons wore the face of Jim Ellison. Even though Blair knew Jim was not responsible for his actions, it would be a long time before his best friends enraged face left his nightmares.

He sighed and turned his back to the windows, sinking into the cushions of the sofa with a small grimace, he cursed once again the people who had done this to him. He still hurt, but he’s been refusing the painkillers offered to him because now was not the time to exist in a drugged stupor. He knew something was going to happen, soon and he needed to be as close to his best as he could when it did.

Blair curled further into the sofa as his thoughts accompanied him into an uneasy sleep.

Megan looked up from her attempt at white lasagna as she heard a soft snore come from the living room. A smile of relief touched her lips. "It’s about time, Sandy." She said softly as she crossed to the sleeping man and draped an afghan over him.

She had kept a close eye on him as he stood at the window, more than an hour had passed and he had not moved. It was too much like one of Jim’s zones for her to be comfortable with. She knew he was exhausted, hurting on both a physical and emotional level but he had been tight lipped about his feelings. That hadn’t surprised her, she wasn’t so sure if the roles were reversed she’d be able to discuss her feelings either.

Her friend looked awful, the bruises on his neck were still vivid as was the bruise on his Jaw, they were a grim reminder of what had taken place five days prior and seeing them made her gut twist. Every time she looked at him her anger was renewed, but now all she wanted was a way to make it better, to make him comfortable until Jim came home.

Giving him one last look she returned to the kitchen and frowned at the disaster that was her attempt at dinner. "Give it a go Megan." She told herself. "It might turn out." She popped the pan into the oven and set the timer.

She sat at the kitchen table and began to read the case files she had brought with her, some time later the phone rang. She was pleased when she glanced at her charge and found that he was still sleeping. "Hello" she answered.

"Hey Connor it’s Jim."

"Why am I not surprised." She answered him, happy to hear some of the strength had returned to his voice.

"Who’s psychic now?" he teased.

"Very funny Jim." She smiled, it was good to hear the old Ellison. "What can I do for you…. Oh wait you’re probably wanting to know how Sandy is."

"You’re so good." There was a pause. "Well?"

"He’s fine, sleeping right now. Do you want me to wake him?"

One the other end of the phone Jim picked up on the reluctance in her voice and was pleased with her concern for his partner. "How long has he been sleeping?" he asked, not truly wanting to wake the younger man, but not able to fight the need to talk with him either.

"About an hour." She paused, looking over at her friend again and knowing with out a doubt he would be a very unhappy person when he awoke if she let him miss Jim’s call. "Gimme a sec, let me wake him up."

"Thanks Connor." He heard her gently rouse his partner and after a minute was rewarded with a groggy whisper from his friend.

"Hey Jim. What’s up?" Blair rubbed at his face in an attempt to push his fatigue away.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing partner."

Blair was beyond the pretense of ‘all is well here. Just another night at the loft.’ So he settled for the straight truth. "I’ve been better man."

"Yeah I know pal, me too." Jim sighed. "I’m going to see about getting out of here tomorrow. At this point, they’re just keeping me to make sure there are no after affects and I’m sure there won’t be. I’ll sign my self out AMA if they argue."

"I’m not going to argue with you in that Jim." Blair said honestly. "I really wish you were here now."

"I know, Chief. Me too." Jim waited for a response from his partner for a moment before he realized the line had gone dead. "Oh my god!" he gasped before he levered himself from his bed.

Chapter Twenty-five.

He had been watching, waiting, and now the time had come. First this one, the child among the two. Oh he savored this, he knew his fears and he cold play upon them. He would make the man suffer exquisitely, the kid would beg, plead, choke on his own fear and the assassin would enjoy it.

He would take the young man to the brink in many ways many times before his final release. He could almost taste the sweetness of the kill. He lifted his head to the newly emerging stars and exhaled his satisfaction. He had no want or need to hide the arousal the prospect of this kill brought him, the exhilaration in him was fresh every time. Each life he took felt like his virgin kill and he savored the feeling.

He would have to take care of the woman. She was not his job, but he would deal with her none the less. Quickly, efficiently he would remove her from the picture and then he could begin his true work.

The time had come, he moved with stealth borne of years within the shadows and began to take their lifelines away. A deep chuckle built within his throat as he cut the phone lines to the building and then removed the light from their world for the final time.

He crept up the stairs, barely containing his glee as he stopped before the door to 307. He didn’t wait and with a mighty kick splintered the door from its hinges. The woman had her gun drawn, but his was faster taking her high in the chest, he smiled as she crumpled to the floor. A strangled cry brought his attention to his prey and he quickly crossed over to the man, clubbing him across the face with his gun. He didn’t wait to see him hit the floor as he had a more pressing issue to attend to.

He lifted the woman’s body and carried her out the door, he dropped her on the stairs and watched her tumble lifelessly to the bottom. It would not do to have her body remain in his workshop. His business was a private one, not to be seen by the living or the dead.

He nonchalantly turned and re-entered the loft, closing and securing the battered door as best he could. He moved the bookcase to secure his sanctuary and began his work.

Chapter Twenty-six.

Simon Banks was nearly knocked off his feet when the large blur of a person barreled into him in the corridor. It took him a second to realize that it was Jim Ellison that was doing the barreling. "Jim what the HELL do you think you’re doing?" he shouted after the retreating figure.

Jim didn’t stop or turn around. "He’s at the loft! He’s at the loft with Sandburg and Connor!"

"Sonofabitch!" Simon swore as he caught up with his detective. "I’ll drive."

Jim nodded still keeping his pace through the hospital halls. "That’s good sir, I was going to have to steel a car if you didn’t "

There was no levity in that statement. Simon knew the other man was deadly serious. He flipped open his cell phone and placed the call to dispatch. "I want all available units to 852 Prospect, assault in progress. The suspect is armed and dangerous!"

Jim barely registered his captain’s words, his thoughts whirled in a maelstrom of fear. He knew they would be too late. His partner was alone with someone bent on killing him and Jim was too far away to keep that from happening. "I’m so sorry, Chief."

"Jim don’t even think that! You don’t know he’s dead!" Simon said sharply in response to Jim’s muttered apology. "You need to stay focused, he’s going to need you when we get there!"

"Yes sir."

The drive to the loft was agonizing for both men, every second that ticked by, was a second their friend did not have. The shrill ringing of Simon’s phone shattered the silence that had taken over the interior if the car.

"Banks!" Simon answered.

Jim tuned his hearing into the voice coming from the other end, it was Henri Brown and Jim dreaded what he was going to hear.

"Simon it’s Brown, were here. It’s not good." The other man’s words were halting and tinged with distress. "We found Connor on the landing to the second floor. She’s been shot. It’s bad sir, it looks like after she was shot she was pushed down the stairs. The EMT’s are with her now. We can hear a voice in the loft but we can’t make out what’s being said, both doors are blocked. We’re trying to get into the building across the street to see into the loft-."

Simon listened to Henri’s report with a knot growing in his stomach as he began to fear the worst. "Henri we’ll be there in two minutes." He glanced at the man next to him as a streetlight illuminated his face. The anguish in the younger man’s eyes was wrenching and he knew they were too late.

Simon’s car screeched to a halt as they came upon the chaos that was now the eight hundred block of Prospect Street. Jim was out of the car and headed for his building before Simon had the chance to unbuckle his seat belt. He exited his sedan and came to a stop beside the sentinel.

Jim had his head cocked to one side and Simon knew he was listening. He knew he was listening to the activity in his home. The expression on Jim’s face made the vocalization of his question unnecessary, but it tumbled from his mouth anyway. "What do you hear Jim?"

Chapter Twenty-seven.

The assassin glanced out the balcony windows at the activity below and sighed. He knew eventually his ride would come to an end, this was just sooner than expected. Still he would get one more before they took him down. He glanced at his young target slumped forward in the chair he was tied to, chest heaving in the effort to breathe the stale air within the plastic bag cinched around his throat.

The man smiled and checked his watch, more than enough time for the young man to succumb before the cops below stormed the place. More than enough time for him to taste one last sweet death.

By his watch it had been a half-hour since he’d first entered the loft, he’d only wasted three of those precious minutes removing the woman. That had left him and the kid alone and had allowed him plenty of time to do what he did best.

He’d roused his young target with pain, the look of surprise, shock and then fear in his deep blue eyes as he drug his bowie knife deeply across the soft flesh of the young man’s inner forearm was priceless. A cherished moment he would take to his grave. His victim’s face had been beautifully expressive throughout their time together and it was almost a shame that it was now obscured by the plastic over his head.

He saw the young man’s chest hitch and calmly placed a hand over his heart. The kid was evidently conscious enough to flinch away from his touch, not that it mattered to his murderer as he checked his watch again. He’s done this many times before, it was his favorite method of execution because it was excruciatingly slow for the victim and by his watch he knew the kid had five minutes tops before he lost consciousness and death would follow very soon afterward. He rested his hand on the young mans chest again and felt the trip hammering rhythm beneath his fingers. "Soon Mr. Sandburg. Very soon."

Chapter Twenty-eight.

"What do you hear Jim?"

If hell had a sound Jim Ellison was hearing it as he tuned into the racing irregular beat of his partners heart, listened to the strained efforts of his lungs to gather and process inadequate air, heard the crinkle of plastic in response to those efforts. "He’s suffocating Simon, we have to get in there now! I’m going up the fire escape!"

Before Simon could reach out and stop him the man beside him was gone; Simon followed suit calling out to his men to move in.

The surge of fear driven energy propelled the sentinel upward toward his home, listening to his partners faltering heart beat, his mind was narrowed to only one thought. Protect Sandburg. His guide would not be taken from him!

He reached the window to his home, giving no attention to the toll the exertion was taking on his weakened body he crashed through as he heard the man speak.

"Soon Mr. Sandburg. Very soon."

He landed hard on the floor amidst the broken glass, ignoring the pain as shards of jagged debris tore into the skin of his arms, hands and legs. He was on his feet and through the door before he was aware he was moving. Stumbling into the living room he froze.

Blair was tied to one of the kitchen chairs, with a plastic bag pulled tight against his face. The younger man was bucking weakly against the man who was suffocating him. It took one second for Jim to catalogue the scene before him, the blood still dripping from his guides arm, the bruises mottling his bare chest and arms, and the frighteningly translucent blue white quality to his undamaged skin. In the next second the sentinel launched him self at his partners would be killer sending all three men crashing to the floor.

Instinct had driven Jim Ellison into a killing rage and with a speed and agility he should not have been capable of he wrapped unnaturally strong arms around the murderer’s neck and snapped it in one smooth graceful motion.

Threat removed he turned to his partner and ripped the plastic bag off his head, he listened to the still irregular heart beat as it slowed dramatically, for a moment he thought the younger man was not breathing, but the slight, almost imperceptible rise and fall of the younger man’s chest allayed that fear. "Come on Chief, pick up the rhythm."

Jim suddenly became aware of the stench of blood, he had seen the injury to his guides arm and noted that blood still flowed freely from the wound. He rose to get a towel when he noticed Simon was already at his side holding one out to him. "Thank you." he said and wrapped the towel tightly around the wound. "We need medics here now, he needs oxygen, he’s barely breathing."

Simon was at the front door pulling away the makeshift barricade to allow easier access to the loft. He removed the last of the obstructions and pulled the broken door out of the way, letting it fall. "We need medics up here!" he shouted into the hall. He turned back to his men, seeing Jim cradling his partners still form, hearing the man beg his best friend to keep breathing; the stoic captain sank to his knees beside his detective and prayed silently. "God please, just let this nightmare end."

The next minutes were a flurry of activity in the loft as the medics worked to stabilize the anthropologist. Jim never lost contact with the stricken man, unconsciously monitoring his faltering signs of life. "Please Blair, just take a deep breath." The oxygen mask placed over the younger man’s nose and mouth had done nothing to prompt his respiration into a stronger rhythm. "Come on Chief, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay, you just need to breathe." Jim nearly cried out when his guide answered the call, clouded blue eyes shot open as his chest heaved in a deep shuddering breath. The younger man coughed weakly as his body fought to regain its natural balance and he reached out for an anchor latching on to Jim’s arm.

Jim smiled reassuringly as his partner’s eyes focused on him. "It’s okay, you’re okay now." He was relieved to see Blair’s slight nod of agreement before his eyes slid closed. He almost didn’t hear the whispered statement as his friend surrendered to unconsciousness.

"Knew you’d come."

"I knew it too." Jim answered silently. "I just didn’t know if I’d be in time."