Okay, this is something really different. I know you won't all like it. But give it a read, then tell me what you think. It's not a typical fic. It's a mixture of observation and action, like a dream narrative - which it really is. Think of this as a narrative for a music video tribute to our GUIDE. This is what I get for leaving the CD player on repeat all night. It really works best with something soft playing in the background. The words are from a song credited at the end. If you have a chance, pick up the CD, it's worth it.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, and I promise to return them in better condition than when I found them!

WARNING!!!! - this is a DEATH thing. Not exactly a story - just a whadayacallit kinda thingy with a uh...You'll get what I mean! If you don't feel like crying today, don't read this. But if you feel the need for some closure and positive grief sharing, go ahead! (I think I'm in a rut! I REALLY need to work on something happy happy!)

A Thousand Dreams

by Wnnepooh

~If ever a boy stood on the moon,
All the heavens would call their angels 'round.
Stop the tears from troubled skies from falling...~

I stare down on the dark interior of the loft, a lone figure clad in black, a long coat longer
and brushing the floor from the slouched shoulders. Jim stares around the empty area, then
carefully shuts the door behind him, walking down the steps to where Simon waits. As he
passes Blair's Volvo, he sets a shaking hand to the hood, as if he could feel some life inside
the metal frame. Another look up at the windows, to where his friend should have been,
then he and the captain leave.

~If ever the river could whisper your name,
Would the choices you made still be the same.
Like a flower that dies from angry rain ~

They're all there, waiting, waiting for the casket. Waiting for Jim to touch it. He sets a hand
to the brass handle, as five other hands join in, easing the burden. He's silent, reflective.
Still he never removes the glasses. A second he lingers, not wanting to leave his friend's side
as the rabbi smiles down on him. As he turns, the time slows and it takes hours for Jim
to reach Naomi's side in the pew. All the rest of them are in the pews.
Major Crimes - Simon, Rafe, Brown, Taggert, Megan, Chief Warren...
Rainier's president, vice president, provost, professors, and staff...
Professor Sandburg's students, teaching assistants,
Sandburg's study group members,
Blair's friends.

So many, Jim sees as he casts a glance over his shoulder. The synagogue is full, faces all
around, and dark colors. They wait and listen to everyone who speaks of their lost soul.
Everyone speaks but Jim.
He stands and I watch as they all pass the casket. Everyone touches the polished wood.

Everyone but Jim, now. They have to stop people from coming. They have to intercept
them and go to the grave, to the cemetery, to his final resting place..

~Why do we hurt ourselves?~

Again they wait for Jim. Naomi is proud and fragile, leaning on Megan who is leaning
on Naomi, their support melding spirits. Jim's hand lingers on the door of the hearse. He
turns to see them staring at him. A glance skyward, a deep breath, "I am relaxed," and
Simon leads Jim to the car.

~Where is the love,
That lets the sunlight in to start again.
A love, That sees no color lines~

Miles. The steady line of headlights, followed by the plentiful and silent blue/red rotation
of CPD vehicles, and still others with little black rectangles in their windows. It goes on and on.
And on.
As if on cue, the doors open and they gravitate to the tiny white awning.

~Life begins with love.~

It's raining, but that's nothing new.

~So spread your wings and fly,
Guide your spirit safe and sheltered
A thousand dreams that we can still believe~

I zone on the drone of the words that cannot bring him back now. Jim is doing the same.
All I can see is Jim angry - Blair angry - Neo-hippie witchdoctor punk - Joe Friday - oh, man.
Jim pinches the bridge of his nose and stares off into space again.
He still has not removed the glasses. I can almost hear Blair
"Totally Zoned."

~If ever a boy stood on the moon,
Carrying all of his treasures from the stars
To a rainbow which leads to where we are~

"It's about friendship."
I can see Blair's face. See Jim's too.
Almost imagine seeing Jim's hand on Blair's shoulder, several different memories of that.
Naomi's crying, and Jim holds her.
Megan's crying and Simon holds her.
The time slows again and you can almost see every movement of the dove's wings
as it leads their eyes to heaven from Naomi's hands.

~Together we chase the sun.~

The gun salute makes Jim jump, still zoned on the grave.
The echo of the report and seconds late suddenly everyone else jumps.
A great show of respect for a friend, a colleague, a respected member of the team...
someone who was NOT a cop.

~Where is the love,
That lifts my brother's voice to the skies
The love that answers a mother's cry.
Life begins with love.~

They remove the flag and Simon offers it to Naomi. Offers it and a salute
and a comforting hug. She takes them all. Lowering the casket.
Megan and Naomi turn away. Naomi cannot stop crying and no one will stop her.
No one else can stop either.
It echoes in Jim's mind - "It's about friendship."
Still he doesn't react, doesn't move.
The playing of "Amazing Grace" on the pipes as the casket is settled.
Jim raises the glasses just enough to pinch the bridge of his nose again.
But the glasses slide back into place along with the pain.

~So spread your wings and fly,
Guide your spirit safe and sheltered.
A thousand dreams that we can still believe.~

The panther sits at Jim's feet, the wolf is cautious - standing off at a distance.
Jim throws a single white rose into the ground's mouth.
Everyone has turned to leave. Everyone has turned their painful hearts away.
Everyone but Jim.

~A boy stood on the moon,
The ancient souls can still discover
A thousand dreams that we can still believe.~

Alone.
Jim sinks to his knees, crying. The panther guards his back.
He finally sits at the end of the grave,
then Simon's hand and strength on his shoulder.
The wolf moves in, sitting atop the headstone -
Dr. Blair Sandburg
Brother, Friend, Guide
taken too soon.

~We can still believe....~

~*~*~

Song: "Where Is The Love" lyrics by Corey Hart, performed by Celine Dion on her album "Let's talk about love." It's a powerful song, with a soft ballad style and light accoustic percussion. Very remniscent of the drums Blair loved. (listen to me! Blair "loved," past tense! "This can't be happening..") Okay! I believe...I believe...I'm clapping my hands furiously!!!!