Part Twenty-nine.

Simon looked up as a weary and battered Jim Ellison pushed open the door to his partner’s hospital room.

"They let you go?" he asked surprised to see the detective.

Jim arched his eyebrow and shook his head with a small grin. "I signed my self out." he glanced at the younger man asleep on the bed. "Has he been awake?"

"Once briefly, he asked about you and Megan." He grimaced. "Fell asleep before I could answer."

"Any news on Connor?" Jim asked taking the chair opposite to his captain.

"She’s still in surgery to remove the bullet. Her doctors are guardedly optimistic, they say her fall down the stairs could have been worse if she were conscious, as it is she’s cracked some ribs and more than likely has a concussion. They’ll know more when she’s out of surgery and conscious." Simon removed his glasses and rubbed a hand across his face. He couldn’t remember a time when he had been this tired. The events of the last days were a heavy burden, all of the anger, helplessness and frustration bore down on him without mercy amplifying them selves with every passing minute.

"You should really get some rest, sir." Jim glanced at his captain, noting the lines of fatigue surrounding his eyes.

"So should you." Simon replied wondering what force of nature was keeping the other man upright.

"I’m fine sir." Was Jim’s terse reply. There was no way he was leaving Blair’s side, not again, not after this.

"Bullshit Ellison." Simon glared at the younger man. "You should be in the bed right next to your partner here!"

A soft groan from the younger man on the bed brought the argument to a standstill. Both men realized that neither of them were going anywhere in the foreseeable future.

"Blair?" Jim inquired softly. Slowly tired eyelids lifted and revealed pain filled blue eyes. "Welcome back buddy." He whispered as Blair’s eyes focused on him.

"Hey Sandburg. "The captain offered. "How are you feeling?"

Blair slowly turned his head and fixed the older man with as much incredulity as he could muster. "Don’t ask." He sighed as he closed his eyes.

"Blair, you still with us pal?" Jim asked fearing his partner had drifted off again.

"Mmm Yeah." The younger man whispered. "Hurts."

"Where?" Jim asked noting the tense frown creasing his guide’s face.

""vrywhere." Blair answered, beginning to shift restlessly in his bed.

"Easy now, don’t move. We’ll get you something for the pain." Jim soothed seeing that Simon had already pressed the call button.

"Kay." The younger man’s easy acquiescence was a clear indication of the level of pain he was enduring. His frown deepened as he asked his next question. "Megan?"

This time Simon answered. "Still in surgery, but her doctors think she’ll be fine."

Blair shook his head. "Oh man. I’m so sorry."

"None of this is your fault Blair." Jim took his guides hand. "Remember what you told me. The same goes for you pal. None of this is your fault."

"Do you believe it yet?"

Jim sighed. "Touché." He mumbled shaking his head. "It still holds true. You had no control over what happened, it’s not your fault."

The younger man nodded too tired to argue. "You alright?"

"I’m fine." The sentinel smiled down at his guide. "Now."

Blair cracked open his eyes and studied his friend carefully. The older man’s arms were bandaged, there were a myriad of cuts criss crossing his face and he looked exhausted and pale. "Liar." He exhaled, the effort it took to speak was becoming too much for him and the pull of sleep was overwhelming even his pain.

Jim chuckled softly as his partner’s eyes slid closed again. "I’m fine where it counts chief."

Part Thirty.

Detectives Brown and Rafe looked over the dingy motel room in obvious disgust. It was a filthy roach ridden hovel, that looked as though it had been well lived in.

"Oh how could anyone stand this?" Rafe wrinkled his nose at the strong stench of human waste permeating the enclosed room.

"You got me Pal." Brown replied thankful for the gloves protecting his hands from the articles he was touching. "This is just gross!"

Rafe opened the small closet and stepped back as a black briefcase tumbled out. "Hello" he smiled "What do we have here?"

"Is that a trick question?" Henri asked looking over his partner’s shoulder. "Cos it looks like a briefcase to me."

The South African detective resisted the urge to smack his partner biting back a rude comment he jimmied the lock on the attaché and examined its contents. "Holt shit." He whispered as he came across detailed files on Sandburg and Ellison. He dug further through the pile of papers smiling as he hit the mother lode. "You slimy sonofabitch! Henri take a look at this."

"What?" he glanced over the other man’s shoulder.

"Look at this and tell me it doesn’t conclusively tie, if not hermetically seal Mr. Georges Tibidoux to our dear departed assassin."

Henri studied the records carefully. The man in question had faithfully kept a record of all transactions, conversations, and meetings. He had traced bank account numbers from wire transfers to his account, logged the phone numbers coming into his cell phone and along with the paper trail there were eight mini cassettes. Attached to the front of the folder was a letter addresses To Whom It May Concern… evidently Arthur Farrell kept records like this on all his clients, there was a key to a bank safety deposit box that contained similar information on the more than a dozen other men he had worked for. In the event of his death he wanted all records turned over to the police. His last line read

"You can’t commission the devils work with out having to pay him eventually."

"This is the first good news we’ve had in a week. Call Simon, we need to get this to the DA and get Tibidoux before he has the chance to run!"

Part Thirty-one.

When Blair awoke next it was to silence, a momentary flash of panic tore through him, but it was gone before he had a chance to wrap his clouded mind fully around the fear. He was in the hospital, yet again and he idly wondered if he should start keeping a change of clothes and a few basic necessities locked away in a closet somewhere or perhaps arrange a permanent reservation for the room he was occupying.

A soft snore to his right caught his attention, he opened his eyes and quickly realized he was not as alone as he’d originally thought. Simon was asleep in the chair next to his bed in a position even the best of contortionists would be envious of. The observer knew his friend would be paying for that position later. He wondered what kind of divine intervention Simon obtained in order to get his partner out of the room as he realized the chair that had been occupied by his best friend was now empty. What ever it was Blair was impressed.

For about thirty seconds. Then he heard another snore and saw his sentinel sprawled face down on the other bed in the room. "Figures." He thought with a small smile. "It would take a lot more than an act of God to get him out of here." It seemed to him that both men were out for the count and he was happy they were getting some much-needed rest. The added bonus was that neither of his friends had found a way to hover in their sleep and he needed the quiet to sort some things out.

He was awake and alert, but Blair knew that was a relative thing. The painkillers he had been given were still roaming freely through his system and soon regardless of his wishes he would be asleep again. He remembered what had happened, every agonizing minute from the time the man had taken a knife to his arm, his systematic beating and the feeling in his pain wracked body as he began to slowly suffocate. Blair shuddered at the memories that were still too fresh in his mind, he could feel his would be killers hand on his chest as he waited for the last beat of his heart. He could hear the man’s voice, the aroused whispers, the coldly stated facts about his own death. He remembered all of it, beginning, middle and end.

Beginning, another thing that would be haunting his nights for a long while. The look on Megan’s face as the bullet tore through her, he had seen an apology written in her eyes in that instant and Blair felt an unfamiliar anger surge within him at the memory. Frustration burned with the burden of remembrance, he had been immobile with shock, had let any opportunity for defense slip away from him and he felt an unreasonable guilt over what had happened as a result.

He hurt, he was afraid and there was a sorrow within he could not fathom. Blair was tired to the bone and his one all encompassing wish was that he would wake up from this nightmare and have his life and the lives of those around him restored. Independent of his will, the tears began to fall.

The sentinel had become aware of his guide as soon as he regained consciousness, he had watched and listened to the younger man as he grappled with the recent events of his life. He knew Blair was remembering, the spikes in his heart rate and increases in his respiration had told the detective as much. It was however the pain, both physical and emotional etched in his partner’s face that gave Jim an understanding of the depths to which that ran.

He was out of his bed and at his partner’s side before the first of his tears hit the pillow. Jim perched himself on the edge of the younger man’s bed and carefully pulled him into his arms. He admired and respected the strength rooted deep within his guide, the courage he displayed daily always impressed him, but every man had his limits and his guide had finally reached his.

Jim understood as he had found his the night before after Blair had fallen asleep and he once again catalogued his partner’s new injuries. New bruises to go with the ones that had just begun to fade. Old bruises he had inflicted on the younger man him self. The sentinel had wept and stood for innumerable minutes in the embrace of his captain. Now he was returning in kind the comfort he had been given and held his guide in protection as the younger man sobbed against his chest.

The raw pain held in the cries of the man who clung to him renewed his own tears. So much had happened to them, yet both he and his best friend, his brother were still there, still alive and they would heal. The warmth of his guide’s body filled him with that knowledge. In the years since Blair had blown into his life Jim Ellison had come to a number of remarkable conclusions and in the moment between the two men as he held his guide another was affirmed. He held within his arms his heart and soul. The unassuming way with which Blair Sandburg had given him friendship had removed the walls that had for too long separated Jim from the rest of his tribe.

Jim Ellison was not an ignorant man, and he recognized the value of the gift he had been given went far beyond his genetic advantages. His gift was brightest when his partner, friend and brother in all but blood was by his side.

"Thank you."

Jim smiled, still rubbing small circles on his partners back and repeated his guide’s written words. "Anytime man."

Simon Banks was silently relieved as he observed his best team from his position in the chair and he prayed again for an end to the hell they had endured during the past week. Seven days had passed since the moment he believed the world as he knew it had come to an end. Seven days had seen a lifetime of pain, sorrow, fear and now a bit of healing amid the chaos. Seven days and an uncertain future still lay before them. Until Georges Tibidoux was in custody, locked far enough away that his men were out of reach, Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison were still very much at risk.

Part Thirty-two.

Jim Ellison smiled at the very cranky Australian woman reading her doctor the riot act from her bed.

"I don’t think you quite understand me Dr. Parks, so I will repeat my self *again* very slowly this time." The doctor was about to interrupt but Megan held up her good hand effectively silencing the man’s protest. "I am leaving. You’ve kept me here for three days, it is obvious that I am not going to die and I’m very tired of being here. I also have a friend that you and your staff seem reluctant to let me see and I won’t have that. So GET ME THE PAPERWORK!"

Jim watched in amusement as the doctor flinched at the harsh quality of the inspector’s last statement. He’d known for some time that Megan Connor was a force to be reckoned with and he took silent enjoyment when seeing the full force of the Connor resolve in action. Dr. Parks exited to get the appropriate papers leaving the two alone. "He is okay Megan."

"So you and Simon and everyone else keep telling me." She sighed. "I just need to see for myself. I need to know if he…" she trailed off and Jim saw the uncertainty written in her eyes.

"If he what, Megan?" he prompted.

She took a deep breath, wincing at the dull pain it caused her. "If he forgives me Jim. I let him down, didn’t protect him from that monster. I let both of you down."

Jim shook his head as a sad smile touched his lips. "There is way to much guilt flying around here. Megan we all think we should have been able to do more. Blair thinks it’s his fault you got shot. Simon thinks it’s his fault for not having more uniforms in the area. Joel, Brown and Rafe think it’s their fault because as Joel put it they’ve ‘been a day late and a dollar short’ since this whole thing began. I think it’s my fault because it was my investigation to begin with. It’s official now, everyone in Major Crimes is feeling guilty because some amoral sonofabitch attacked US. He stressed the last word. "Yeah this started to get Blair and I out of the way, but not one person we work with hasn’t been hurt in some way. We’re doing the best we can and it has to be good enough. If we start to crumble than that bastard Tibidoux wins and I’m not about to let that happen!"

Megan stared at the man before her in open-mouthed shock. "Who are you and what have you done with Jim Ellison?"

He laughed. "Same guy, I just have a little better perspective now."

"You’re surprising as hell." Megan shook her head as she chuckled lightly. "Thanks Jim. Did you give the same speech to Sandy?"

"Actually it’s his speech."

"Ow ow ow!" Megan hissed through her laughter. "God, don’t make me laugh. It figures, not that I think you’re incapable of such insight."

"You wound me, Connor." He smiled down at her. "Let’s get you checked out of here and then we’ll get "Sandy" out and then maybe the two of you can work out this guilt thing."

"Oh so the speech was his but he hasn’t taken his own advice." She frowned.

Jim shook his head. "Not by a long shot. I’m hoping you’ll help me out here."

The inspector arched her eyebrow. "Then screw the doctor, let’s go."

Part Thirty-three.

Blair Sandburg sat on the edge of his bed contemplating his shoes. Rather he was contemplating the act of tying them. The coordination needed to complete the task seemed to be beyond him at the moment as he had tried several times without success to get his foot close enough to reach the laces and the thought of bending over to tie them was too nauseating to consider. Belatedly he realized it really didn’t matter because he would be riding out of the hospital in a wheelchair anyway.

This time he was very much looking forward to leaving the hospital, this time he would have his friend and brother by his side. This time he understood that no matter what they faces from here out, they would face it together. That alone gave them better odds.

They wouldn’t be going home however, that didn’t particularly bother him, not

after what happened at the loft. He knew it would be some time before he’d be comfortable walking through the door to their home. The safe place had been contaminated again and he knew there would be many days he would see the man responsible standing in the doorway. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair there was nothing he could do about it now. The memories were there, they would always be there.

"Hey stranger."

Blair looked up to find the face belonging to the soft southern drawl smiling at him. "Hey Em." He slid off the bed and wrapped his arms around the shorter woman. "It’s good to see you."

"It’s good to see you awake." She replied pulling away slightly to take a good look at her old friend. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." he shook his head at her frown and clarified. "Though that’s a relative thing right now."

"Judging from the way you look, yeah I’d say so." She glanced down. "Sit on the bed, your shoes are untied."

"Don’t worry about my shoes Em."

"Sit!" the brunette commanded.

"What I’m a dog now?" Blair managed a little righteous indignation, he did have pride after all.

"Don’t start with me Fido!" Emma retorted.

"You are not tying my shoes for me…again. Once in my adult life was enough of that particular brand of humiliation."

"Blair, give me a break. You were in a back brace and couldn’t bend over. I was only helping." She explained putting her hands on her hips in exasperation.

"Did you have to help infront of the whole quad?"

"You’re right, How silly of me. It would have been much better to let you trip over your shoelaces, fall on your face and wind up in traction." She answered sarcastically.

Blair threw his hands up. "Okay fine! But you’re still not going to tie them now!"

"Blair" She warned.

"There is no winning an argument with you is there? You won’t even take pity on the sick and injured." He did his best pout, if he stood a chance he’d have to make full use of the hurt puppy look.

The young artist scowled at him. "I am taking pity on you, hence the offer to tie your shoes. And you have won arguments in the past."

Blair snorted his disbelief. "We’ve known each other what…almost thirteen years and I can count on one hand the number of arguments I’ve won."

"I never said you’ve won a lot of arguments but you have won some." She stated. "Now give me your leg."

It wasn’t going to work, he was loosing. "Fine just do it." He sighed defeated.

Emma smiled at her friend. "Thank you." she said as she happily tied his shoes.

"At least there are no witnesses this time."

Jim and Megan had been watching from the doorway and Jim took that opportunity to alert the two occupants in the room to their presence. "Hey Chief, having a little trouble there?"

Blair buried his face in his hands with a muffled "Oh man!"

Emma was trying hard to control her laughter. "Blair I am really sorry, I had no idea they were there."

"Don’t worry Sandy we won’t tell anyone, we promise don’t we Jim?" Megan nudged her companion in the thigh with her elbow.

"Are you nuts?" Jim thought. "This is prime blackmail material, if anything it’ll be good to keep me out of some tests." His actual reply was. "Of course, I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone about this."

Blair fixed his partner with an icy glare. "You are such a bad liar Jim."

Jim just chuckled, albeit evilly and crossed to give Emma a hug. "We appreciate this Emma. Thank you."

"No problem, I’m glad I could help. Look I came to give you the keys and say a quick hello. I have a plane to catch and a little girl in Phoenix who’ll be very angry at me if I miss the flight."

"How is the squirt?" Blair asked having regained some of his composure.

"Just fine. Her dad tells me she’s grown another two inches and she is forever bugging him about coming to see her Jim, her Blair and her Simon. Greg is thinking of sending her to all of you for Christmas." Emma smiled and turned to Megan. "It seems she does not bug Greg to come see you or me and I will be discussing that oversight with her this week."

Megan laughed. "No worries, she sent me a Pokemon card two weeks ago for my birthday and some artwork that’s now hanging on my icebox. She seems to take after her mom, it’s quite good."

"I’ll tell her you said so."

Blair stood beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "Thanks again Em. Have a good trip okay?"

She turned into his embrace and sighed. "I would prefer to come home to healthy friends. Take care of each other."

"Promise." He gave her a tight squeeze and then let go.

"Y’all take care and be careful. I’ll see you after I get back."

The young woman exchanged quick good byes with Megan and Jim and hurried to the elevator where the rest of her composure crumbled as the doors slid closed. She offered up a silent plea for protection for her oldest friend and two very new ones.

Blair looked at his friends. "She handled that well. I expected her to freak as soon as she saw the two of you."

Jim nodded at his friend, communicating with his eyes what he’d heard as the young woman descended in the elevator. "Her cabin was a great idea Chief, now all we do is wait for Simon and Blow this place."

"So how are we getting out of here anyway?" Blair asked. He’d fallen asleep during their original planning session after they’d realized that Tibidoux had dropped off the map. Everyone involved recognized the fact that until the man was caught Ellison and Sandburg were still targets. Since Megan had been injured she had become a way to get to the men. It was decided that wherever they went she went. Blair had suggested using Emma's cabin on Lake Denny as a safe house. It was away from town and easily defendable if the need arose. It would also be the last place anyone would think to look at them since the deed was still in her ex-husbands name. The how they were going to get there without being followed part of the conversation happened long after Blair had given in to the pull of the painkillers being pumped into his system.

"Through the morgue." Jim answered not wanting to go into the specific plan, mostly because the operation would be infinitely more difficult with a hyperventilating guide on his hands.

"Why do I not like the sound of that?" The observer asked suddenly feeling that an extended stay in the hospital wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"It will be fine Blair, trust me." the sentinel assured as he silently hoped fate would not make a liar out of him.

Part Thirty-four.

"Oh my God!"

"Blair just relax, everything will be fine, you won’t run out of air I promise." Jim lay a comforting arm around the agitated man’s shoulders.

"I can’t do this. Oh God Jim there is no way!" the younger man backed away from his partner. "Jim I can’t! There has to be another way!"

The sentinel was caught by the wide disbelieving eyes of his guide. He heard the young man’s heart beating wildly and saw each muscle contract in cadence with the brutal tremors shocking through his body. At that moment Blair Sandburg was the living embodiment of panic, and rightly so. Jim knew this would be difficult for his friend, leaving the hospital in a body bag, the plastic material being so close to his face would only bring back memories of his very recent and very real near suffocation.

He and Simon had discussed at length the various options available to them and Jim had fought hard against his one. He couldn’t subject Blair to that kind of torture again, especially less than four days after his attempted murder. In the end though, it proved to be the most effective ruse, the hospital was secured, they would not be seen as they made their way to the bowels of the hospital. They would leave in body bags from the morgue and be taken to a funeral home on the outskirts of Cascade and from there they could make good their escape to the cabin.

"Please Jim don’t make me do this." The whispered plea brought his world crashing down around him. He couldn’t not get Blair into the body bag and to relative safety and yet by trying to protect his partner he was causing unimaginable fear.

"Listen to me Chief." Jim said gently. "If I thought for one second there was a better way to do this, we’d be outta here. Do you trust me?"

The younger man’s eyes widened for a moment and then slammed shut. "Yes." Came the strained reply.

"Then believe me when I tell you nothing will happen to you. You will be okay, I’ll be right beside you." Jim approached the observer again and placed his hands on Blair’s shoulders. "Trust me, Chief."

Blair gripped his sentinel’s forearms tightly as he bowed his head and took in deep breaths to calm him self. "I trust you."

The detective slid a hand to the back of his partner’s neck and pulled him into a fierce embrace, resting his head atop the mass of unruly curls he whispered. "Thank you."

Megan Connor has never considered herself a spiritual woman, but after witnessing the kind of trust built between the two men she counted as friends, she began to understand the true meaning of being blessed. She could see the light that surrounded them, feel its warmth and know its security.

The time had come to exercise his faith in his best friend. Blair felt sick, it was too real, the feeling of plastic surrounding him, the smell of it filling his nostrils, the death held within the small prison. "Jesus!"

"Close your eyes, Chief." Jim soothed. "Close your eyes and see somewhere else, somewhere open and full of light. Concentrate on that and we’ll be there before you know it."

Blair nodded and closed his eyes. He would do this, he could handle it. He was not going to die, it would be okay. Jim had Promised him and he trusted that promise. He was afraid, but it wold pass, it had to pass. He needed to find the strength to make it to the other side of this test of his will, he could do this. He kept his eyes tightly shut as the zipper was pulled closed, inch by agonizing inch he felt himself being sealed inside, and panic threatened to overwhelm him. "NO!" he gasped as the bag closed over his head.

"It’s okay Chief, you can breathe. Feel the air flow, you can breathe."

"I can breathe." He repeated the mantra over and over in his head as he fought the stifling confines of his temporary prison. Recent pain and fear flooded him but he held on as he felt himself being lifted. He did not cry out as the plastic came to rest against his face. "I can breathe." He resisted the urge to turn away from the horrifying feel of the material on his cheek. He held on, biting back sobs that threatened though the silent tears he was unable to control. He held on through infinite minutes of silence, he held on as he walked through the inferno. Time stopped and he held on through the eternity of it. He held onto the trust, faith he had in his sentinel, onto the promise and he fought to stay afloat in the sea of terror battering his mind and body. "I can breathe." Soon became, "I trust you." he replayed the promise over and over until light once again entered his world.

Part Thirty-five.

Simon Banks glanced in the rear view mirror, once again assuring himself that his people were okay. To assure himself that one Blair Sandburg was okay. During the past ten days he had seen the young man endure horrors no one should ever face and the police captain had honestly thought as they opened the body bag to release him at the funeral home, that it had finally been too much.

The younger man’s body had been rigid with tension, an endless stream of tears mixed with the perspiration that had soaked his clothes and hair and he had refused to open his eyes. Excruciating long minutes passed as they tried to coax him out of the place in his mind he had retreated to and Simon despaired. He had come to see the observer as a friend, even more as a son. He respected the young man and seeing him hurting in a way he couldn’t mend ripped at his heart. He didn’t understand what it was about the anthropologist that demanded protection, as Blair was more than capable of taking care of himself, but still it was an instinct that drove his partner, himself and just about everyone who had come to know this remarkable young man. Simon had always been loath to admit it out loud, but the feeling was undeniably there.

Jim had finally lifted the younger man out of the bag and sat with his partner cradled in his arms. It amazed Simon the level of tenderness this tough, hard as nails, former ranger was capable of where his partner was concerned. The captain watched in silence as the sentinel became guide and helped his best friend reconnect with reality. Unable to resist the call of his brother the younger man had eventually responded with a heart-breaking sob, in the next instant the two had become four as Simon and Megan lent their support.

"Don’t make me do that again."

"Never, Chief. I promise."

Now as Simon drove to their destination he regarded them briefly, Blair was curled up on the back seat of the sedan with his head resting on Jim’s thigh. The detective had an arm draped protectively over his shoulder absently rubbing the younger man’s arm and the captain was awed by the trust and comfort they found within each other.

That trust had been hard built in the years since they had meant, Simon had seen it take some crippling blows. Their bond had come back stronger every time and he realized that their bond went deeper than Sentinel and Guide, deeper than brotherhood. It was a soul bond, two people destined to be together, a remarkable and rare friendship that would withstand any assault it encountered. There was a part of Simon that envied that, but he would never deny them. He would be forever thankful he’d been witness to it at all.

In the back seat Jim listened to his partner. No words were spoken but he listened none the less. The heartbeat that had raced so violently earlier was again at its normal strong pace, relaxed and steady. His breathing was deep and even and his skin had lost its cold clammy feel. There were no more tremors and Jim knew his guide was at ease.

"Simon you need to turn here." Jim said pointing to the nearly hidden dirt road off to the left.

"I forgot about this." Blair said groggily as a particularly deep rut jarred the vehicle's occupants. "You might want to go very slow Simon, the road here is bad."

"No kidding." The captain grumbled. "This doesn’t even qualify as a road…I can’t imagine what this is doing to my suspension."

Five minutes, during which Simon swore he heard ugly popping noises coming from the underside of his car, later the road widened out infront of the cabin. In reality it was a two-story log home. "Nice cozy cabin." Megan said looking at the impressive structure.

"All the comforts of home and running water." Blair managed a small grin. "Speaking of which. I get the shower first…please."

"No objections here Sandy." Megan yawned. "I just want a bed, a soft bed, with real sheets, not the sheet rock they pass off as sheets in the hospital."

"It’s all yours, Chief." Jim knew the younger man wanted to be rid of the smell of plastic, he didn’t blame him. The sentinel had his sense of smell dialed all the way down, the scent of fear and death in the black plastic had nearly overwhelmed him. He knew there had never been another body in the bag that held his partner. It was what that innocuous black bag represented that made Jim cringe.

As the foursome entered their temporary sanctuary unfriendly eyes watched and waited for the right moment to rid himself of the thorn in his side forever.

Part Thirty-six.

Water. He could wash it all away if he tried hard enough. If he really committed himself to the endeavor, the memories would slip down the drain along with the smell, sweat and fear that had too long adorned his body. If he wanted it bad enough he could wash all of it away. The will to make the impossible happen eluded him and Blair was shouldered with the memories after everything else had been eliminated.

"I survived." He whispered. "I can live with this." No truer words were spoken. He could not allow himself to be overwhelmed by events that were beyond his control. He had been a victim, he had been hurt, tortured but he was alive. He intended to stay that way.

He did not live in a fool’s sanctuary, he knew there would be dreams. He knew he would wake up screaming. He knew there would be moments of waking fear intense enough to cripple him. They would fade as his soul cleansed itself of the evil that had touched it. He would carry on, there were no other options.

Blair leaned into the pulsating spray of water and sighed as it pounded the tension out of stiff muscles. He couldn’t remember knowing a better shower cleansing and relaxing his body as his heart and mind began their own purification. He adjusted the head of the shower to a steady stream and let the interior rain fall against his face. The warmth of the cascading water soothed him and he smiled. It would be all right. What mattered most was still intact and his battered psyche was full with that knowledge. He was not alone, he would never truly be alone again and he was not walking this path of pain in solitude.

He had long considered Jim his Holy Grail, but in his time of reflection he understood fully what that meant. Yes he had found his Holy Grail, but it wasn’t in the form of his long sought sentinel. His prize was in the form of the brother of his soul. Jim’s abilities had brought them together, but the bond came from deep within them and filled their blessed need to connect. He had a brother, someone who would disagree with him, yet jump to his defense and offer his support with out condition. It had been a long road for both men, Blair understood Jim’s issues with trust as Jim understood his own fear of commitment. They both had overcome years of conditioning, the belief that was intrinsic to them that nothing was forever. It was joy that they were wrong.

Blair stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a plush green terry cloth robe. A gift from another friend. She had taken care to ensure all their needs were seen too and he was curious how she knew his old robe had finally become too threadbare to wear. He glanced at the note that accompanied the robe.

YOU NEED THIS. It read, three simple words, and he had needed it. It was more than just an article of clothing, it was comfort, a warm embrace from an old friend who understood as well as anyone the healing power of a terry cloth robe and a cup of chamomile tea.

That was his plan, he would curl up with a mug of tea and then get some much-needed rest. He understood the nightmares would come, but it was the blessed peace in-between that he sought. The comfort of the twilight would still be there and somewhere among the demons that haunted him perhaps there would only be a dream, a dream of a friend and a warm place to rest his battered heart.

Part Thirty-seven.

Georges Tibidoux was a patient and resourceful man. He had to be, in his world the sharks were many and viscous. He had built a reputation for being ruthless and he was feared, it was the way he wanted it. The more bodies he produced the more willing his colleagues were to cater to his requests. The bodies of tow detectives, a police captain and one inconsequential observer would add to his pull with them and remove another obstacle in the path of his prospering business.

The chemist smiled in the darkness of his vehicle as he watched the road leading to the log home that housed his victims. He wasn’t a deluded man, he didn’t see this as a game of cat and mouse. It was simply something that needed to be done, the fact he would take pleasure in the killing was secondary to the goal. Their deaths would be quick and efficient, he would be on his way home before their bodies began to cool. His Marie was cooking a feast for him that evening and he did not want to miss her exquisite Duck a L’orange.

Marie was a wonder to him, every bit as cold to the outside world as he was, but fires burned deep within her dark eyes when they were alone. She was a brutal lover violently marking him as her own every time they came together in passion. She was the woman who matched every part of his black soul, a perfect companion and very useful with the position she held. She was loyal and had provided him with invaluable information for his latest endeavor. It was unfortunate the people he’d selected to carry out his work had been woefully incompetent. It mattered no more to him, the imbeciles had been dealt with and he would insure his future by removing the garbage himself.

The sight of a dark sedan pulling out from the dirt road brought Tibidoux out of his musings. He waited until the car was a safe distance away and then followed.

Simon hated the twisting mountain road he was on. He truly was a city boy and preferred the security of a four-lane interstate any day of the week. The narrow winding two-way roads in the mountains were barely big enough for his vehicle and the lack of a suitable shoulder always made him uneasy. He glanced in the rear view mirror and caught a glimpse of metal glinting in the moonlight. "Shit!" he swore. "What kind of idiot drives in the mountains at night with out headlights."

"The kind that’s following you." He answered his own question.

His heart slammed into his chest as he realized the ramifications of what that meant and he was radioing dispatch with his position before he was aware his hand had moved. "Patch me through to Henri Brown!" he demanded. Before the dispatcher had the opportunity to respond Simon’s car was rammed from behind. The police Captain grabbed the wheel with both hands dropping the radio handset on the floor of the car and looked once more in his rear view mirror. The vehicle behind him was a large pickup truck and it was coming at him again.

Tibidoux pushed the accelerator to the floor and rammed the sedan for the second time. The force of the collision sent the smaller vehicle careening off the roadway and down a steep embankment. The front end of the car disintegrated upon impact with the copse of large pines forty-five feet from the road. The chemist stepped out of his truck, he pulled a bottle filled with gasoline, lit the rag wedged into the top and casually lobbed the cocktail down to the wreckage below. He watched as the fire took hold and when he was satisfied he returned to his truck and headed back the way he came. "One down three to go." He smiled as popped in a CD and strains of Shostokovich filled the cab. Giving one final glance behind him he saw the orange glow of a rapidly growing fire.

Part Thirty-eight.

Henri Brown stood on the back deck overlooking the lake watching the lone figure walk along the shoreline. Something about the man he was sent here to protect had always intrigued him. Jim Ellison was a study in contrasts. Upon casual glance a person wold think the man had no emotion what so ever, he was cool, diffident and detached. The man’s public persona was intimidating and Henri suspected that’s how he got results. The man behind the super cop mask was entirely different, yes Ellison was still somewhat emotionally stilted, Henri suspected that had more to do with his upbringing than his present circumstances. The cracks in the ambiguous façade he maintained were showing and little bits of Jim the man were being seen. More and more often.

It was pretty clear to all who worked closely with the Detective what or more importantly who was causing those cracks to show. Blair Sandburg, Henri shook his head now there was an enigma. The younger man’s appearance totally belied the intelligent, compassionate man within. When the observer had first arrived on the scene he had been dismissed by most of the members of major crime. It didn’t last long though on the kids first day at the station he had proved to be a resourceful and quick thinking individual. All around appearances were deceiving and he knew the two men who proved it.

He had been at the home for two days, arriving a day early just in case someone was watching the place. He had been dropped off a mile up the road and Hiked in. if anyone come looking they were in for a surprise. When everyone else had arrived that morning he had been shocked. Sandburg looked to be on the verge of collapse and Jim looked ready to kill anyone or anything that came near his partner. Henri had maintained a respectful distance, having become dependant on his head being attached to his body he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

Now Sandburg was upstairs asleep, quietly for the most part and Jim was walking along the edge of the newly frozen lake. Henri could hear his foot falls in the snow and every once in a while a heavy sigh would drift back to his ears in the stillness of the night. It was getting colder and there was snow coming, at least the weather guessers thought so.

He was about to call out to Jim when the shrill ringing of his cell phone shattered the quiet. "Brown." He answered but was greeted by silence and strange muted crackling sounds on the other end. He bit back a yelp of surprise when Ellison appeared by his side. The man moved like a cat. "There is no one there." Brown told the other man.

"Let me listen." Jim demanded it had not been a request.

Henri handed the other detective his phone and watched as Jim listened, the tendons in his jaw bulged and tightened as he listened for a moment and then his head shot up and he scanned the wilderness surrounding them. Evidently the detective found what he was looking for because he was off the deck and giving orders before Henri was aware the man had moved.

"H call dispatch and have them send every available person out here, call the local sheriff, call the fucking national guard if you have to and get inside, don’t let Sandburg or Connor out of your sight and NO ONE gets in do you understand me? NO one!" without another word Jim Ellison disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter Thirty-nine.

Simon fought the urge to flee his burning vehicle until he was certain his assailant had left the area. He hurt everywhere, pain radiated out ward from where his seatbelt had kept him from slamming into his dashboard as it was his head had connect hard with his side window shattering it when his car plowed into the tree line. Simon was to the point he could wait no longer, the heat from the fire was oppressive and the flames were getting closer. Madman waiting for him or not, Simon had to get out of his car.

He pushed against the crumpled door with all his strength and fear clenched his chest when he realized it would not budge. The window, he could get out of the window, he had to get out some way. He braced his hands against the empty window frame and pulled himself out with a grunt, he landed hard on his back effectively knocking the wind from his lungs. "Move!" his mind screamed at him. He tried, he honestly did but all he managed was an ineffectual twitch of his hand. His head was swimming and his vision of the night sky obscured by the smoke from his burning car and his constantly blurring vision. He was going to die. He had escaped his car only to be burned alive beside it and somehow that did not seem fair. "God damnit!" he swore and then choked on the acrid smoke filling his lungs. Simon Banks was going to die and that really pissed him off.

Jim had seen the orange glow from a fire a fair distance away, when he had listened to Henri’s phone he had heard the sounds of it and then extended his hearing and he knew. It was like listening to the event on stereo and instinct told him that his captain was somehow involved and so was Georges Tibidoux. They had been found. He ran through the dense wood, splitting his hearing between the chaos infront of him and the corrupted sanctuary behind him. He could now make out the source of the fire, a car, Simon’s car was engulfed in flames. He pushed himself to cross the distance separating him from the wreckage when he recognized his captain’s still form on the ground dangerously close to the growing flames. In moments he was at the fallen man’s side pulling him away from the fire and into the relative safety of the trees.

The older man spasmed and convulsed as he pulled fresh air into his seared lungs, the simple act of breathing causing him unspeakable agony. Through the fog of pain he thought he heard a voice. Someone familiar but he lacked the ability to give it more thought as he spiraled out of control into the painless night that beckoned him.

Jim sat back on his heels after examining the Captain. Nothing was broken, though he was sure the other man had sustained a concussion judging from the size of the lump on the side of his head underneath the blood. He had fortunately sustained no major burns from the fire, but the sentinel worried about the damage done to Simon’s lungs from the smoke and heat of the blaze. He had a more immediate problem. How was he going to get the unconscious man back to the house, and what would be waiting for him when he returned? He knew he had to get back as quickly as possible but there was no way he would leave his friend out in the wilderness alone and unconscious. Tibidoux was out there and Jim knew it wouldn’t be long before he struck the house. If he hadn’t already, it had become impossible for Jim to monitor the sounds around him over the roar of the blaze before him, try as he might he could not regain the control he needed to filter out the sound of the fire. It was almost more than he could handle just tuning into the sound of Simon’s heartbeat. He had to get moving, with a silent apology to his captain he slung the older man over his shoulder and made his way back toward the house.

Chapter Forty.

"Where’s Jim?"

Henri Brown looked at the younger man before him noting anger flashing in his eyes and thought to himself, "Damn if these people don’t get more surprising every day." It was more than anger he saw within the blue depths, it was rage. It was clear to the detective that Blair Sandburg had enough and that in his mind was dangerous and frightening.

"Where the hell is JIM?" Blair was standing toe to toe with Brown.

"I don’t know." Henri was indulging in a little jaw clenching of his own. He knew the situation would soon be taken from his control. A Sandburg without an Ellison when there was trouble was a Sandburg who wouldn’t be in the room for long. "He took off into the woods after the call and told me to call for back up."

"SHIT!" The observer shouted to no one in particular. "Idiot! Goddamnit! You forgot your fucking cape man! What the hell does he think he’s up to running off into the woods alone, AT NIGHT with BAD GUYS ON THE LOOSE!" he ranted. "Man that’s it I’m going out there after him!"

"Blair!" Megan blocked his path. "Think about what you’re doing here. You are in no condition to go traipsing through the bush at night."

"And Jim is?" Blair asked incredulously, stepping around her and heading to the door.

This time it was Henri who blocked him. "Do NOT make me do something I’m gonna regret later Hairboy." He said menacingly.

"Don’t go there H." Blair’s voice was dangerously low.

"Don’t make me pal. My first priority is to keep you safe and if it means I have to put another dent in that thick skull of yours so be it. You are NOT leaving this house!" Henri jabbed his finger into Blair’s chest to punctuate his statement.

It was the wrong thing to do. Henri Brown could not have guessed what would happen next, but he had a split second to see the fury rise behind the other man’s eyes before a fist drove hard into the side of his head and stars exploded in his eyes.

Blair didn’t watch the detective fall to his knees, he was moving out the door before Brown hit the floor with the rest of his body. He was done with it; he was tired of playing these games. If Tibidoux could find them there, he could find them anywhere. Now the game had become primal, it was him or them. If Blair had any say in the matter, Tibidoux was going down and he was going down the hard way. Enough was enough he wanted his goddamn life back!

Megan did her best to help Henri to his feet, it was more of a challenge than it should have been, but one handed what did she expect? "Are you okay?"

Henri waved her off. "Yeah." He grimaced gently probing the side of his head. "I can’t believe he hit me."

"I was rather shocked my self." The inspector was still unable to grasp what she had seen. "You’d better go after him."

"I can’t leave you alone, Megan."

"Henri." Megan gave an exasperated sigh. "I’m a cop. I have a gun. I know how to use it, with only one hand even. Now go after Sandy before he gets himself killed. Ellison will kill both of us if anything happens to him. Now GO!" she resisted the urge to plant her foot squarely in the man's butt and kick him on to the front porch. "I’m going to count to three Henri and then I’ll smack the hell out of you and go after him myself!"

Henri silently counted to ten and then to fifty as he retrieved a flashlight from the utility drawer in the kitchen. He wondered how it came to be that he was consistently on the loosing end of these battles of will, which deity did he offend in which life to suffer this aggravation? They didn’t know what was going on, they didn’t know if Tibidoux was out there at all, but Ellison had run off half cocked and then Sandburg had gone after him fully cocked. Henri now had an intimate understanding of the colloquialism "the inmates running the asylum." He was living it. The problem was that his cop instinct was screaming at him that they were in a very dangerous situation and the hunter was near. It well and truly sucked to be them at that moment. "Lock the door Connor and relive your childhood by hiding. If you get yourself dead I am really going to be pissed!"

Megan forced a grim smile. "I love you too, Henri."

Detective Brown nodded and headed off into the darkness in search of his errant comrades.

Chapter Forty-one.

"This is not a good position to be in." Simon thought grimly as he studied what he could see of the ground, his swaying hands and the legs of the man who was carrying him. "Hey put me down." He said, or rather intended to say, Simon wasn’t entirely sure he’d managed intelligible since whomever was carrying him had not put him down. "Hello?" still there was no response. "God damnit put me down!" he bellowed and immediately regretted it even though the desired result had been achieved and he was released, abruptly and painfully. "Ow!"

His field of vision was immediately filled with the concerned face of Jim Ellison.

"Jesus Simon I’m sorry." The younger detective apologized. "I was listening too hard. Did I hurt you?" He stared at the battered form of his captain and amended. "Worse?"

"Dropping a man with a head injury on his head is always bad." Simon rose shakily to his feet thinking he liked sitting on the ground better. There was not a part of him that didn’t hurt and his head insisted on spinning like a top. The mental image that played along with that thought brought a laugh out of him followed by a round of hacking coughs.

"Simon maybe you’d better sit down." Jim said lending support to the wavering man.

The captain waved him off. "Just give me a minute." He wheezed. "Tibidoux is here we have to keep moving."

"I know." Jim pressed his lips together in a tight grimace. He wanted that bastard, he knew there would be no peace in any of their lives until the man was caught or killed. The latter being the preferable option. Cop or not, Jim Ellison wanted Georges Tibidoux dead. "Brown is with Sandburg and Megan, we’ll get you back to the house and them I am going after him. He’s out here somewhere, I can smell the mother fucker."

"Jim," Simon held up his hand. "We go back to the house and we wait for backup. You are in no condition to go after him alone."

"I’m fine Simon."

"You are so full of shit Ellison and it wasn’t a suggestion it was an ORDER!" the older man shot back. "Now let’s get moving before this whole thing goes to hell…more than it already has."

"Yes sir." Jim said tersely.

"And Jim, thanks for saving my ass back there."

Jim nodded and both men began walking again, Simon staying close behind his detective. The night had become pitch as the last of the sunset had faded leaving a dark moonless sky overhead. The captain plowed into Jim as he stopped abruptly, holding up a hand and tilting his head to the side. Simon knew the gesture, he had seen it many times. The sentinel was listening to some far off sound. "Shit!" Jim hissed.

"What?" Simon questioned.

"I am going to kill him. God damnit!" Jim swore and changed direction. "He’s a lunatic! No fucking regard for his own safety, He doesn’t even have a flashlight!"

Simon who was still a little slow on the uptake and only processing about half of what the younger detective was saying still knew he meant Sandburg had gone out after Jim. Ellison was right the kid was certifiable. "God Bless America!" coming from the captain’s mouth it was a curse. "He’s just determined to get himself killed." He grumbled as he tried to keep up with a sentinel who had gone directly into full blessed protector mode. Making the transition in less than one second. It had to be some kind of record.

They broke through the tree line, Jim keeping a close eye on his partner who was making his way slowly along the small cliff at the edge of the frozen lake. "Sandburg!" He hesitated to shout but he needed the volume to make sure the younger man heard.

Blair’s head shot up and he squinted into the darkness eventually seeing Jim and Simon heading towards him. "Oh thank God." He whispered with relief.

Jim quickly crossed the distance separating him from his guide, scanning the younger man with his senses on full. Once satisfied Blair was all right, Mt. Ellison blew. "I am going to kill you!"

Blair glared at his friend. "Kill me? That’s just great Jim!" he spat. "What the hell is wrong with you man? You have a death wish? What Jim, what were you thinking running off like that? God you fucking amaze me, you’re pissed at me because I came after you? Get a grip, you’re not in the best condition here man and I came to help. If anyone is going to be killing anyone it WILL be me killing YOU for being an idiot!" he threw his hands up. "I don’t beli-." He was abruptly cut off as Jim placed a hand over his mouth.

Jim had no time to shout a warning as he heard the rifle cock, he shoved Simon to the side and turned to shield Blair in one swift motion as the sound of gunfire cracked through the air, the force of the bullets impact into his shoulder sent both sentinel and guide over the cliff falling six feet onto the frozen lake. Jim briefly thought "What next?" as the thin ice gave way beneath the weight of their bodies plunging them into the frigid waters.

Chapter Forty-two.

"Ow! ...COLD!" Blair thought as he tried to push upward out of the freezing water only to be met with the resistance of Jim’s body on top of his pushing him further into the dark depths until finally his back hit bottom. The water couldn’t have been more than fifteen feet deep but flat on his back under water and the body of his partner had him near panic. He pushed again and was relieved to feel the man above him respond by grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him toward the surface.

Both men reemerged gasping and coughing, Blair’s mind was quite literally scrambled and he did not resist when once again Jim grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to the edge. They were still treading water and the cold was beginning to tell on the observer. "Jim we have to get out of the water." He managed through chattering teeth. The sound of gunfire once again shattered the night. He was close, very close. "Jim!" Blair hissed and reached out for the detective’s shoulder.

The second the younger man’s hand connected with his injured shoulder Jim cried out. The pain and cold having ripped away his control over his sensory dials. Without thinking he lashed out with his uninjured arm effectively removing the cause of his pain. His hearing was so focused on the sound of the advancing predator he failed to hear the pain filled gasp that came from the man beside him. Nor did he notice when moments later his partner’s eyes slid closed and he disappeared beneath the surface.

A second later Simon’s head appeared over the edge of the cliff. "Jim!" the older man hissed. "Are you two okay?" the police captain received no response from the detective and noticed the absence of one police observer. "Jim!" he shouted this time and again received only silence as an answer. Simon realized two things simultaneously, first Jim had zoned and second he was going for a swim. He slipped his body over the edge of the cliff and had the fleeting sensation of weightlessness before he crashed through the ice beside where his two men had gone in. he came up for a breath before going under in search of the missing Sandburg. He didn’t search for long, encountering the young man weakly struggling to reach the surface a few feet above. Simon grabbed the anthropologist around his torso and with two strong kicks broke the surface of the lake. He held the gasping, barley conscious observer’s head above water. Damn he was cold, they had to get out of the water immediately. He looked around trying to gage where they were in relation to the flat shore of the lake and caught the reflection of the cabins porch light to his left maybe a hundred feet away. They could make that, they had to make that. They were dead for sure if they didn’t.

"Sandburg you with me here?" he asked the young man he held. Blair managed a nod. "Okay were gonna move here."

"J-j-jim." The word was barely audible but Simon clearly heard the next word. "H-h-h-hurt."

"I’m not leaving him behind but I need your help, he’s zoned."

"Shit." Came the soft exhalation. "S-s-ucks to be me right now. Last t-t-time I t-t-touched him, d-d-d-dec-c-c-cked m-me."

"Sorry kid." Simon truly was, but there were no options the sentinel needed his guide to do the guide thing. Simon would try to run interference but it was Sandburg’s show. He just didn’t know if the kid had it in him to perform. The question became mute as a heavily accent voice rose above them.

"Well mes amis this will be like shooting ducks in a barrel."

Simon groaned silently. They were screwed.

Chapter Forty-three.

The voice Henri Brown heard sent chills down his spine.

"…like shooting ducks in a barrel."

"Sonofabitch!" he swore silently. "Not on my watch." He crept slowly up behind the rifle wielding psycho as the man continued to babble over the cliff side about problems that just wouldn’t go away. "What was it with long winded criminals anyway?" he thought. He could almost hear Tibidoux saying "I would have gotten away with it too if not for you meddling kids" It was time to end this once and for all. "Drop your weapon!" he snarled as he cocked his weapon by the criminals ear. When Tibidoux did not immediately obey his request Henri added. "Right now all I need is a reason to blow your head off…it doesn’t even have to be a good reason; you’ll be dead and I’ll be a fucking hero. Now DROP IT!"

The chemist slowly complied, letting the rifle fall from his fingers to land at his feet. Henri kicked the weapon away. "You’re under arrest Tibidoux." He was reaching for his cuffs when the man attacked, forcing Henri’s gun arm up he tackled the larger man sending them both to the ground.

Simon heard the sounds of a struggle above him but he was out of time, if any of them were going to leave the water alive, they had to get out now. He pulled the unresponsive observer with him as he crossed the few feet to where his detective was still treading water. Barely. Even Jim couldn’t tolerate this kind of cold for this long. Blair would be of no help to them. The younger man had lost consciousness and was succumbing to the bone numbing cold of the water. It was up to Simon to snap Jim out of his zone and if he couldn’t he’d have to make a choice, he honestly didn’t know if he could do it. "I need a miracle. Oh please God I need a miracle."

Pain. Sandburg had said Jim was injured, the thought of what he was about to do turned his stomach, but pain was better than death at this point. He eyed his friend closely and found the site of the bullet wound. "Forgive me Jim." He whispered and clamped his hand over the injury squeezing the affected area harshly. The younger detective roared, literally roared and Simon went under briefly to avoid the fist that flew in his direction. The body he clung to tensed as the water closed over their heads and tried to jerk away, that fact heartened the police captain as he quickly resurfaced, Sandburg was still with him. "Jim!" he shouted as his head emerged from the water.

The sentinel’s surroundings had snapped back into focus as he registered the agony shooting through his shoulder. He saw Simon go under and reappear a second later yelling his name. It was then he realized that Simon had Sandburg in a recovery hold. He panicked and began to scan his partner’s vitals finding and latching on to a slow, irregular beat. "Simon we have to get out of this water now!" the weak sound of his own voice startled him.

"No shit." The captain grumbled under his breath. "Welcome to the crisis."

Slowly they made their way along the edge until finally they felt the lake bottom beneath their feet. Supporting a marginally conscious Sandburg between them they reached the shore and hauled themselves out of the frigid waters. They were in sight of the house when Jim collapsed pulling the other men down with him. Simon would have laughed at the irony if the situation weren’t so damn tragic. As it was once his body met the ground he knew there would be no getting up again. He was cold, hurt and too tired to move. He knew he couldn’t have been in the lake for more than ten minutes, but it had been long enough to sap what little strength he had. His apology went unheard by the two men beside him as he fell into the open arms of darkness.

Chapter forty-four.

He thought a person was supposed to be numb when they were freezing to death and vaguely wondered to himself why every abuse his body had suffered during the previous ten days had picked that moment to make themselves known. Couldn’t he just have a little peace before he died?

They were going to die. He no longer doubted that, too much had happened and now the three of them were lying in various states of consciousness on the ground. The man had been right about shooting ducks in a barrel, they were indeed sitting ducks. He hated ducks.

At least they were no longer in the lake, he took some consolation in that. The thought of drowning, again, did not appeal to him then again neither did the thought of freezing to death or taking a bullet to the brain. Truthfully he was angry. They had come so far, survived so much and now they were done for. There would be no last minute rescue, it was only a matter of time before Tibidoux or the biting cold killed them all.

Blair Sandburg made a decision. They were not going out like this. They were not going to die out here on their backs, or stomachs, whichever the case might be. He was going to get Megan, he could make it to the house and she could help. He could only hope that Henri was kicking Tibidoux’s ass into the next county and that the calvary was going to arrive soon.

He had to get up, he had to move. Getting his abused body to obey took a monumental act of will. The final connection to his senses was made as he heard a gun cock to his left. He opened his eyes and what he saw ignited a rage within him. Tibidoux was pointing a gun at Jim’s head. Fury fueled him as he surged upward with a roar of defiance and knocked the chemist to the ground, the sound of the gun firing was muted in his own ears, every sense and feeling had been pushed back to make room for the all consuming hatred for the man who had been hunting them. The wrath of Blair Sandburg was making it’s self known, fury’s avatar replacing the battered anthropologist and attacking without mercy the man responsible for their suffering.

Georges Tibidoux was taken off guard by the sudden movement of the young man and the seconds hesitation had cost him. He found himself flat on his back staring into cold blood hungry eyes and for the first time since he set his plans in motion he saw his own imminent failure. No, he would not allow that to happen, this was about more than just his business, it had become personal. These people refused to die. No one refused the will of Georges Tibidoux.

The criminal bucked the younger man off and scrambled to his feet, surprised that his opponent had recovered just as quickly. The longhaired man was moving around him like a predator looking for a weakness and the feral snarl sweeping across his face told Tibidoux everything he needed to know. The kid had found what he was looking for. The instinct for self-preservation was strong, but not stronger than the chemist’s arrogance and he pulled the knife tucked in the back of his pants choosing to meet the attack head on.

Blair launched himself at his foe again taking them both to the ground, he felt a pressure in his side as he came to rest on top of the other man but paid it no mind. He grabbed the older man by the hair and drove his skull into the rocky ground. It was going to end right here right now and he continued to pulverize his opponent until unknown hands pulled him off his prey. He struggled wildly against the hold keeping him from finishing his task. The other man was still alive, he could hear the moans coming from him. Who ever was holding him back didn’t understand that as long as the man lived they would never have peace, they would never be safe, he would just keep coming and coming until they were all dead. He had to die! "Let me go! THE SONOFABITCH IS STILL ALIVE!" he screamed.

Joel Taggart had an intimate understanding of hell as he ran down the path to the lake and came upon the still forms of his captain and Jim Ellison. The visage of Blair Sandburg pummeling the life out of their suspect however would haunt him for much longer. He pulled the kid off the man he was trying to kill and tried to calm him. "Blair you got him, ease up, it’s over." his statement was validated as Rafe cuffed the barely conscious man. "It’s over!"

A familiar voice penetrated the haze of rage in his mind and he heard the words very clearly. It could not be true. "It won’t be over until he’s dead."

The man in his arms had ceased struggling as he spoke and the resignation in the younger man’s voice tore at him. "No Blair it’s over, you got him, he can’t hurt anyone now." He did a quick check of the young man and noticed the hunting knife protruding from his side. "Oh sweet Jesus."

The soft oath brought Blair’s attention back to reality completely, with that came the awareness of pain. He looked down at the knife. "Joel?" he whispered. "I’m in trouble."

With that quiet statement the cold young man in his arms lost consciousness. "Where are those medics?" he shouted as he felt for a pulse and found none.

Chapter Forty-five.

"Come on kid don’t do this." He pushed his fingers against the ice-cold skin of the younger man’s neck and finally found what he was looking for. "Hang on pal. You got it, just hang on." He looked up at Rafe who was checking on Simon and Jim, his eyes begging the question of life.

"They’re alive." Rafe confirmed. "Colder than ice and Beat up but alive."

In the next moments the paramedics arrived and swarmed the injured men. IV’s were started and the chilled bodies were stripped and bundled in blankets. Joel kept a close eye on the team working with Sandburg, he knew they were more than competent, but with the knife still sticking out of the younger man’s side Joel needed to be sure they handled him carefully.

"Joel?" Jim Ellison’s voice called out weakly. The captain turned to his friend. "He’s going to be okay Jim." He assured as he followed the other man’s gaze to the observer.

Jim nodded. "He’s tough." He exhaled with a small smile. His eyes seemed to loose their focus for a moment as a memory surfaced in his addled mind. He reached out to Joel and grabbed his forearm with surprising force. "Henri!"

"Easy Jim, he’s at the house I think." Joel tried to calm him.

"No!" Jim shook his head. "Henri fought Tibidoux, on the cliff…heard gunfire." His head fell back to the stretcher as his strength faded. "Sorry, so so sorry." He mumbled as his consciousness faded.

"We’ve got a man still out there!" Joel shouted. "Possibly wounded."

Megan had made her way down the path and overheard the tail end of Jim’s conversation with Joel and her heart fell. "Oh no no no!" without stopping she pushed passed the uniforms and headed toward the cliff with Rafe hot on her heels. Minutes later she stopped dead as the beam of her flashlight passed over the prone form of Henri Brown. "Oh please no!" she cried as she fell to her knees beside him and frantically searched for an indication that he was still alive. She found what she was looking for and breathed an uneasy sigh.

Rafe swept his light over his partner’s body easily finding the source of the blood covering his abdomen. It was a gut wound. "Ah Henri damnit!" he whispered as he applied pressure to the injury.

Awareness came back to Henri in a wave of agony. "Stop!" he gasped.

"Henri easy now." Rafe soothed.

"No Ahh God man Stop!" he screamed.

"Henri! Henri look at me!" Megan demanded. "Come on babe look at me."

"Sorry Megs." He rasped as he met her gaze. "Should have got you that ring. I’m sorry."

She leaned forward and kissed him. "I don’t care about the stupid ring." She choked back a sob. "I never needed it."

"I know." He smiled briefly and then gasped as a fresh wave of pain tore through his belly. "GOD!"

"Shhhh just listen to my voice, just look at me, it’s going to be okay." She caressed his face wiping away the tears of pain spilling from his eyes.

"Not this time." He whispered. "I’m sorry, never got a chance to tell them."

"No, no You’ll be fine." She kissed him again. "We’ll tell them all when you’re better."

"Wanted to tell the world I loved you." he gasped. "Wanted to tell them all you said yes."

Megan fought back tears as she listened to him. "You can take out an ad in the times, Henri. Just promise me you’ll hang on, promise me you’ll keep fighting. Don’t you dare think about dying!"

"Never made a promise I couldn’t keep Megs." He arched his back restlessly trying to ease the pain shooting through his abdomen. "Can’t start now."

Megan held his gaze until the medics arrived. Henri heard her tell them not to let him die. "They don’t have a choice baby." Was his final thought as he walked into the welcoming arms of darkness.

Chapter Forty-six.

The young nurse had never seen a more battered group of spirits then were gathered in the small OR waiting room. Three waiting for word on three more each set of eyes telling a grim tale of hurt. He felt for them, cops always took these things hard. No one took it well but with cops their pain was culled deep within a collective soul born through a legacy of honor. He stood just beyond the doors ready to push through and deliver the news when he caught sight of the woman.

He’d been a nurse for many years and seen all kinds of anguish but hers was different. She looked betrayed. He understood, he had felt that brand of torment in his own heart long ago. Part of him had never recovered. He truly hoped this woman fared better. He also hoped the name on his chart belonged to the man she was waiting for. He pushed open the doors and met the brothers and sister in blue head on.

Megan prayed every prayer she had ever learned she repeated silently again and again, hoping if there were indeed someone listening they would hear her. As the hours ticked by the light of hope dimmed and she began to accept the real possibility that she had spoken her last words to him. Acceptance shattered her, her rage, fear, sorrow and helplessness coalesced into a hell that threatened her rationality. She had reached the end of her mental rope and the despair beneath her was ugly and growing. "How am I going to do this?" she asked herself. "How am I supposed to keep on without Henri?" she buried her face in her hands and fought back tears that insisted upon falling. It had been a one in a million shot with them and she had taken it and won. One day seven months ago he had made a bet with her and lost. The cost to Henri, he had to buy her dinner. She had been expecting Wonder burger up until Henri had told her to wear a dress. It had turned out to be the most enjoyably romantic evening of her life. Henri Brown had wooed her well. The friend had become so much more that night and she realized midway through the evening things between them would never be the same.

Now it was falling apart, every thing she had ever hoped for but believed she would never have was being torn away and she hurt in a way she never thought possible. "Please don’t let this happen. Oh God please don’t let him die."

She didn’t know how, when or why the thought of life with out him became unbearable, but it had. She had always been independent and free willed, never truly needing anyone to keep her going and it was so safe alone. There was zero risk in a solitary life, but there had also been little fulfillment. He had changed her life, he had changed her and she refused to believe that fate was that cruel. She refused to believe he would be given to her only to be taken away in a sick twist of fate. It was not going to happen, he was not going to die. The day he was well enough she was going to marry Henri Brown and they were going to live happily ever after. There were no other options.

She looked up as a tall man wearing surgical scrubs entered the waiting area. Her heart pounded in her chest as he approached them. Megan was filled with dread at the solemn look on his face. "Please God don’t." she pled silently.

"You’re waiting for Detective Ellison?" he asked them.

Joel Taggart stood and approached the man. "Yes we are."

"I’m Nurse Tackett, Dr. Fischer asked me to come out and let you know that Detective Ellison came through the surgery fine and has been moved to recovery and will be in his own room in a couple of hours. The bullet passed straight through missing the bone. He does not for see any loss of function and expects the detective to make a complete recovery." He paused and took in the looks of relief coming from the three Detectives. "He would have given the information himself but he had to assist on another patient."

"Is there any word on Henri Brown or Blair Sandburg?" Rafe asked.

The nurse shook his head. "Both are still in surgery. I know they’ve had difficulty stabilizing Mr. Sandburg due to his previous injuries and Hypothermia. They are doing everything they can for both of them and we’ll let you know as soon as we have any further information." He looked at the woman, still seated quietly taking in what he had to say. "They’re in good hands."

Megan nodded. "Thank you." she said softly.

Tackett turned and went back to his duties feeling as though he had let them down. There was something about the three of them that told him there had to be three happy endings or none at all. He hoped the surgeons still working had a couple of miracles up their sleeves because those two men were going to need them.

Chapter Forty-seven.

Simon had developed a new respect for pharmaceutical companies and the, in his opinion, humanitarian efforts they so selflessly pursued. Yes he still ached and he was still doing a fair impression of a human Popsicle, but the pain that had been plaguing him since he had awoken in the emergency room was reduced to an assortment of dull aches and for that he was extremely thankful.

He needed to be able to function when the man occupying the bed next to him came to. He needed to relay the information he had to Jim and Simon knew it would sound better if he wasn’t screaming from pain after every third word. As it was the news hadn’t been great. Sandburg was out of surgery but critical and Brown was still under the knife. It did not look good for either man.

Simon sighed, the only thing any of the rest of them could do was wait. It was just as well Ellison was still out, the captain knew his detective would only be climbing the walls and pushing to get out and be at his partners side despite his own injuries.

The other benefit Simon had gained from the numerous drugs being pumped into his system was a relatively short attention span. He couldn’t find the ability to concentrate on the hell that was still raging for his people in the aftermath of this God forsaken case. The only bright spot in the whole mess was that Georges Tibidoux was no longer a threat to any of them. The man was still alive, but it was a relative thing. If he ever did regain consciousness he would never be a functional human being again. Getting his head pounded repeatedly against a rock had left him virtually brain dead. "Score one for Sandburg." He thought with out charity for the fallen criminal. He winced at the bitterness of his thoughts knowing the young man wouldn’t see it that way. There was a perverse rationality in the hope that the kid lived long enough to regret his violent actions. Simon hoped that regret lasted no longer than a second. Tibidoux got what he deserved, there was poetic justice in the possibility that the man would live a long life as a vegetable.

The door to the room opened revealing a worn and tired looking Joel Taggart. Simon studied His friend short sightedly, he really couldn’t see much at all and his glasses were a part of the charred heap that was his car. "Hey Joel." He greeted.

"How ya feeling Simon?" Taggart asked as he sat in the too small chair by the Captain’s bed.

"I’ve been better." he frowned. "Any news?"

Joel managed a small smile. "Henri is out of surgery and his doctors are optimistic. He's stable and holding his own, blood pressure is up and they repaired the damage to his stomach. It’s going to be a while before he’s up and around, but they think eventually he’ll make a full recovery."

Simon sagged back into his pillows feeling another weight lift from his heart. "That’s terrific news Joel. Any more on Sandburg?" he asked hoping for a double shot of good news.

"No change." Taggart shook his head. "It’s a wait and see situation. The damage from the knife was minimal, but the cold water and shock with everything else the kids been through in the last ten days…"

"He’s a fighter."

Joel turned to face the man on the other bed and smiled. There was more faith in that statement then he thought he’d ever heard from the man. "You’re absolutely right Jim."

"He’ll be just fine." The sentinel closed his eyes and drifted back into his slumber.

Simon lay in his bed, mouth hanging somewhat agape, staring at the softly snoring figure opposite him. "I guess we’ve been told." He said not doubting for a minute that the words Jim Ellison had spoken were true.

"That we have." Joel chuckled. "That we have."

Chapter Forty-eight.

Two days later Jim was sitting at his partner’s bedside watching the younger man sleep. Blair had not regained consciousness until late the night before and it had been a brief period of wakefulness. Jim had been with him, flagrantly violating hospital policy, he slipped undetected into Blair’s room just shortly before the younger man’s eyes opened for the first time since he had been admitted. Jim had known, he would never be able to explain how, but he had known his guide was about to wake. He needed to be there. He needed to let Blair know that it was over and they were all safe.

The little trip had cost him though and he found when he was ready to leave he lacked the strength to make it back to his room. "Hospital karma." He mused as he recalled the look on Nurse Bhenn’s face when she found him on his butt in the hall. She calmly turned around and left him there, returning half a minute later with a wheel chair. She said nothing as she helped him into the chair and wheeled him to his room. She assisted him into his bed, still without a word and Jim began to hope he would get away with his little stunt. The nurse had a soft spot for him, he’d known that from the start and he’d developed an abiding tolerance for her as well. "You are so full of it Ellison." He heard his guide’s voice ring in his head. It unsettled him that his conscience carried Sandburg’s voice. Of course his conscience was right, he more than tolerated the pretty nurse. She was charming, intelligent and had a terrific sense of humor he actually looked forward to seeing her. He would never of course admit that out loud, "especially after last night" he thought with a grimace. The woman who seemed to be so forgiving of his excursion had decided after getting him settled that he had needed a sponge bath! Jim had protested loudly.

"I don’t think that’s necessary!" he pushed himself into the corner of his bed.

"Now Detective, you’ve worked up quite a sweat with this late night field trip of yours. I know you don’t want to sleep like that." She smiled a wicked smile at him as she pulled back his bed covers.

"No really!" His voice cracked as he tried to protect his modesty. "I don’t mind at all!"

"Oh please Detective." She rolled her eyes at him. "You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before."

He lost the argument and submitted to the humiliation of a sponge bath. "I have got to stop winding up in the hospital." He grumbled.

"You and me both."

Jim looked into the unfocused blue eyes staring back at him and grinned. "He speaks." He placed his hand over Blair’s. "How are you feeling Chief?"

"Like shit." Blair responded bluntly. "But I’ll be okay." He added seeing the sentinel’s frown.

"I’m gonna hold you to that."

Blair managed a tired smile. "I remember you telling me that everyone else was going to be fine. You did say that didn’t you?"

"Yeah Chief, Simon’s getting out today and Henri’s doing a lot better, he’s going to be here for a while but he’s going to pull through fine."

Blair felt the pull of sleep tugging at him once again, he fought against it finding more comfort in the voice of his sentinel that in the darkness that beckoned. "So we made it, right?" he forced his eyes open.

"Yes we did." He brushed an errant curl away from the younger man’s face. "We made it through." he watched his partner struggle to keep his eyes open. "It’s okay to sleep Blair. I’ll still be here when you wake up."

"You need to rest too man. You got shot remember."

Jim smiled. "Not something I am likely to forget Sandburg. Don’t worry about me. I’m getting plenty of rest, there is a certain nurse making sure of it!" he chuckled. "Now get some sleep, or I’ll recommend Nurse Bhenn give *you* a sponge bath!"

Blair’s eyes widened in horror at the thought. "Sleep is good man." He said as he allowed him self to drift off secure in the knowledge that his friends were safe and would be well physically. He knew the emotional healing would be a long time coming, but he had no doubts it would come.

Chapter Forty-nine.

"Did you get it?" Henri Brown looked expectantly at his partner as he entered his hospital room.

The young South African stared cluelessly back at him. "Get what?"

Henri levered himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly at the dull ache still at home in his abdomen and glared at Rafe. "I cannot believe you forgot!" he hissed.

"Oh wait you meant this?" He pulled a small jewelry box out of his suit pocket.

"You are such an asshole!"

Rafe chuckled. "You’re point?" he queried.

Rolling his eyes Henri sighed. "Give me that…and thanks man."

"Your welcome." The GQ detective smiled, delighted to see his friend and partner close to his old self. It had been three weeks since Henri had been shot the night the whole nightmare came to a head. Three very long weeks of recovery, but Henri was going home today. He couldn’t help but wonder at the relationship his partner had managed to keep hidden. He did know he was glad they had found one another, during the days right after the shooting Henri always seemed to do better when Megan was with him. The joy that found with in one another was tangible and Rafe was truly happy for both of them. "So when is she going to be here?"

"About fifteen minutes." He ran his had nervously over the ring box before opening it. Inside rested a half carat round cut with an emerald on one side and a sapphire on the other. "Perfect." He whispered.

"That it is my friend."

"Are we interrupting something Detective?" Simon Banks voice boomed from the doorway.

Henri snapped the box closed. "No sir."

Blair and Jim followed the captain into the room. "You’re looking pretty good there H." Jim said grinning at the younger detective.

"Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself." He returned the smile. Both men had spent a great deal of time talking about the night of his shooting dealing with a mutual guilt about not preventing the disasters that had occurred. They talked, sometimes argued and eventually began to deal with what they could and could not have controlled. Jim Ellison had surprised him, the voice of reason was not something he had commonly associated with the man, but a week before when he laid all of their actions out on the table things had fallen into place and what was most important became clear. They had survived and the threat had been removed. He looked at Ellison’s partner, the kid was still a little pale but his eyes were full of life and his face was as animated as ever. "So Hairboy" he began, "Where is Ms Callahan?"

Blair stopped in mid sentence to Rafe and faced Henri a little look of bewilderment creasing his forehead. "Working…why?"

"Oh nothing." He said innocently. "I just heard you’ve been spending a lot of time together."

The younger man cast a pointed glare at his partner. "What is it with you guys? Emma and I are just friends, we have been for years. Friends, that’s it end of story!"

Jim put his arm around his guide and leaned into his ear. "It’s the extra special friends that tie your shoes for you right Chief?" The flush of crimson that spread across his partner’s cheeks brought a collective laugh from the men in the small hospital room.

"Did I miss something?" Megan asked from the doorway.

Jim grinned. "Oh nothing Just reminiscing about shoe tying."

Blair’s faced reddened even more as Megan gave him a sympathetic smile. "Sorry Sandy." She said with a wink. She looked at the other men in the room and arched her eyebrow. "This is quite a party we have here."

Henri looked suddenly unsure of himself as he said, "Uh well that’s sort of my fault Megs." He managed a small smile as she turned to face him. "Could you come here for a sec?"

Megan’s heart pounded in her chest as she slowly crossed to him. She knew what was coming and it thrilled her beyond words, but she didn’t want him to feel as though he had to do this. "Henri, if you’re uncomfortable-."

He held up a hand. "I want them to know." He whispered. "I meant what I said to you….and I will be taking out that ad in the times." He grinned. "I’d like to get down on one knee and do this the right way, but I’m not quite up to that just yet." He looked into Megan’s face, her smile lighting up the room and her eyes bright with unshed tears. He reached up a hand brushing his thumb against her cheek. "Megan Connor I love you. I have for a very long time now. We don’t often get second chances in life, but I feel like I’ve been given one. I am not going to waste it. You said yes to me once." He pulled out the ring box and opened it, removing the ring. "Will you marry me?" he asked as he slipped the ring on her finger, tears stained his face as she nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh you know I will." Megan leaned into him wrapping her arms around him and feeling the blessed warmth of his body radiating into hers. "I love you."

The couple stood wrapped in their embrace, near oblivious to the cheers and well wishes coming from their friends. They stood in a position each thought they might never share again and simply loved each other.

In that room, in that hospital, miracles and second chances thrived.

The End.