Last Straw

by Remma (morennab@yahoo.co.uk)

The hall was almost full of students, pens at the ready, all set to be instructed on the ins and outs of human sacrifice. Blair had always loved teaching, but preparing for this particular lecture had been a lot more stressful than he had anticipated. Perhaps coming back from the dead gave a person a deeper appreciation for any and all life, or more likely the concept of sacrifice always brought back to him all that he was prepared to surrender to his Sentinel.

They had been back from Sierra Verde for over a fortnight now, a hard fortnight that had seen him back in hospital for several days because of the effect of humid jungle air on scarred congested lungs. His doctors had been angry at his carelessness, scolding him like a wayward child, but he had been too exhausted, both mentally and physically to argue. He had lain quietly, accepting the rebuke, calmly promising to do better, to take all his medications and refrain from any manual exertion.

This time, Jim had been a regular visitor, joking with the nurses and teasing Blair about their attentions. He had gone along with it, not even commenting when Jim told him that he had retrieved his belongings and restored the loft to it's former state. He wasn't particularly surprised that he hadn't even been asked if he wanted to move back in; after all, that would mean Jim having to admit that there might be a reason for him to stay away, and that in turn might lead to talk of his death, his resurrection and the shared vision that had brought about that miracle. No, Jim wouldn't want to bring up any of that.

Blair felt no anger at Jim's reticence, but then, he didn't feel much of anything. No anger, no pain and no pleasure at his return to the loft, nothing but a dead emptiness. He had begun to wonder if maybe a part of him had been left behind in that spiritual jungle, the good part, the part that knew how to feel.

A restless shuffling pulled him back to his class, reminding him that he still had responsibilities, even if he could no longer take any pleasure from them. He had barely started when he was interrupted by a couple of latecomers. Brad Ventriss, and that must be his girlfriend. He tried to keep his dislike of this particular student from showing, joking with him to cover his aversion. He couldn't put his finger on what it was about the young man that disturbed him, but there was something...missing, a conscience maybe.

He watched him swagger to his seat, not missing the by-play between him and a scared looking female student. The pretty girl seemed to flinch from him, moving away when he took the seat next to her, but leaving behind an envelope, which Ventriss casually retrieved from her desk. He knew her, Jill Gordon; she was one of his more diligent students.

Putting the incident from his mind, he was able to present the rest of his lecture without incident, easily holding his students attention, keeping them interested and amused to the last sentence, then sending them on their way with instructions for the following week and a request for their term papers.

The students filed past, dropping envelopes onto Blair's desk, Ventriss handing in the one he had received from Jill. Annoyed, Blair opened it, surprised by the yellow post-it-note pinned to the top. He read it, realising that he recognised the writing as belonging to a grad student friend, Rick Feldman, Jill's boyfriend.

The note seemed to indicate clearly that Rick had in fact written the paper, and from the tone, very possibly under duress. Ventriss had simply handed it in, not even bothering to open the envelope.

Blair was almost glad when he felt the anger begin to simmer and he embraced it. It was not an emotion he had ever been comfortable with, preferring to solve his problems through discussion, but at least it was an emotion, so if anger was all there was, he would draw it in until it filled up all the empty spaces inside him.

But now, he had a legitimate outlet for his anger. He started out after his student, intent on confronting him with the evidence of his duplicity. This was cheating and not to be tolerated. Somehow, it was even worse that he didn't even care enough to deceive efficiently.

"Arrogant and stupid is not a good combination."

Blair was justly angry at not receiving even an iota of regret from the supercilious young man in front of him. Maybe an admission of guilt was too much to hope for, but to be threatened like this was beyond aggravating.

And dammit, now he was too late to meet Jim as they had arranged. Determined to sort out this situation, he went in search of Rick. He was deeply disappointed in his friend, always having thought him to be honest and hardworking, and something like this, actually selling a term paper, was certainly not something he would have expected of him.

Still, disappointment in those he trusted was fast becoming par for the course in his life. Maybe it was time to toughen up a bit, develop a little cynicism. But that wasn't what he was about, at least, it never had been. Maybe it was significant that the first emotions he had experienced when his feelings returned had been negative.

Even more single-minded in his pursuit of the truth, he spotted his friend across the campus, and called out to him. He knew he had to be reasonable, give him a chance to explain. After all, it was possible that there was a valid reason for him to do something so out of character, but for the life of him, Blair couldn't think what it might be.

Rape. Brad Ventriss had raped Jill Gordon. And no one was doing anything about it. Even his head of department wanted to forget about the whole thing, the rape and the violation of the academic code. Well, Blair wasn't about to let this alone.

It wasn't Jill's fault, she was young and scared, easily intimidated by some one with the money and influence that Ventriss had. It was just so wrong, that an accident of birth could allow someone as inherently immoral to do as he pleased without fear of consequence.

Well not this time. This time Blair intended to see that he paid for his actions. He was not afraid of the man, or of his father. Hell. What could they do to him that could rival what had already been done?

The police database would be a good place to start. It was always possible that there was some prior infraction on record. If not, then he could try something else. He was sure that Jim would help. After all, he was a cop, a protector, no way would he let a predator like Brad Ventriss go unpunished.

"I'd love to help you out, but my hands are tied with nothing else to go on; it's just the law."

"It's the just the law?

"Yeah."

"Just the law? It's great to hear you say that, what about what's right, Jim, how many times have I heard you say that?"

"Take it easy, huh, don't let you anger take you out of the game. One of your better lectures, remember?"

"No"

How dare he, how dare Jim quote his own words back at him. Didn't he have a right to be angry? He had been threatened, and you'd think after last time, Jim would care a little more about that. But he hadn't, had barely reacted, and then had once again pushed him aside, physically this time, sliding his chair away and dismissing him as if his concerns were unimportant.

Blair had not thought that he could hurt like this again; he had thought that he was stronger, tougher now, but he was wrong. He expected little from a low-life like Brad Ventriss, but Jim, that Jim would let such injustice slide was insupportable.

Was there even any point in going on with this? After speaking with Jill it was obvious that she would be of no help, she simply had too much to lose. Bad enough that Ventriss had attacked her, but to go after her family to ensure her silence was intolerable.

Now she would not even be able to talk with them about the terrible thing that had been done to her. He had isolated her in the surest way, by using her own love and compassion for her family.

He supposed that he should be grateful that Jim had saved him from the beating, but he almost wished he hadn't, since then he would not have been faced with Jim's total lack of concern. And to imply that the attack was his own fault, that it involved his love life? What love life? Jim knew perfectly well that there had been no one, not even a mild flirtation, since he had realised that he was in love with Jim.

So what if his anger was making him lose his objectivity? Why should he pretend not to be angry when he was? Jim had no right...No; he would not let his mind go there. If he ever let himself acknowledge the true reason for his deep-seated anger, then, well then he didn't know what he would do.

He needed Jim, needed to be with him, and if that meant swallowing his disappointment and anger then that is what he would do. Eventually, it would have to pass, and in the meantime, he could re-direct his feelings to a more fitting target...Brad Ventriss.

Hell, he'd lived with Jim long enough to know all about repression.

This was it. Brad Ventriss was going to get what was coming to him. Of course, it had taken his involvement in Jim's murder case for that to happen, but it was better than nothing.

He may be getting away with rape and academic fraud, even with getting Blair fired, but at least he would be going down for murder.

Blair still couldn't believe that he had been fired. He had never been fired; he was good at his job, used to the respect of his position. Now he had nothing. No job, and very possibly no friend and no home. After all, if the dissertation was no more, then what reason would there be for him to stay with Jim, and to keep his observer credentials.

Jim had made it plain that he was surplus to requirements, that he had no use for a guide, and his apparent disinterest in Blair's dismissal, in spite of the fact that the reason for his being fired was his association with the police department and Jim, showed that he had little regard for Blair's academic life.

So that was it, it was all over, for the first time since he was sixteen, Blair had no idea where his life was going. He had been a student for such a long time, and then a Guide, that now that he had lost both, he was lost.

Perhaps he could see this as exciting, a new start, no ties, nothing holding him back; he was free, to do as he pleased and go where he pleased. He would be alone, but then, he had been alone before. So yes, perhaps he could see this as a wonderful opportunity. Perhaps he could, if he tried really hard.

Oh god, a helicopter and water; could it get any worse? Yes, obviously it could. Jim was seriously going to jump, and he was expecting Blair to be his back-up, which would mean that he would have to jump too, if Jim missed. Oh god.

"Don't miss."

And then he was gone, leaping down onto the boat below, so close to toppling off the edge, but hanging on doggedly. Ventriss, trying to knock him off, missed his step to plunge into the water. He was in the water, and Jim was still on the boat. Ventriss could get away, or he could drown, and Blair knew that he could allow neither possibility, even though that meant going in himself.

Desperately pushing back the memories of his last encounter with water, he dropped, almost losing control as he sank, remembering the feel of water flooding his mouth and nose, weighing down his hair and clothes and dragging him into the darkness.

Then his head broke the surface, and he took a deep gasping breath of the pure air. He could do this. Ventriss was no more than six feet from him, floundering around in his attempts to swim to freedom. No way was Blair going to let that happen.

He caught him easily, holding him until Jim reached them, hauling them onto the deck to lie gasping like landed guppies.

Jim pulled Ventriss to the rail, securing him to it with his handcuffs, then returned to the controls to take them home.

He didn't say a single word to Blair. No 'you okay', no 'are you cold', not even a 'good job'. And so it was until they reached the shore and the waiting uniforms.

Blair sat on the low wall, watching as Jim handed over his prisoners, giving the two officers some final instructions before turning back to Blair, his pleased smile vanishing when he saw the dejected expression on his friend's face.

"Hey Chief, why the gloom and doom? We got them, didn't we, and Ventriss should be going to jail for a good long time. I thought that would make you happy."

"Sure, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Jim, I'm not in the mood for this right now, okay? I just want to go home."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I was scared Jim, really scared, and you don't even care. You know I hate helicopters, and then to have to jump out of one into water...I don't exactly have the best relationship with water, you know?"

"I..."

"Or did you just conveniently forget that I drowned."

"What? No, I didn't...I could never..."

"You pulled me out of the water then just left me on the deck. I mean...you didn't help me up, get me a blanket, talk to me, nothing; hell you barely even looked at me."

"I couldn't. You were lying there, all wet, and..."

"Well duh, I'd been in the water."

"Yes, but...but you looked so...with your hair...and it was like being back there when you...I couldn't handle it."

"So you ignored me...again. Why does that still surprise me?"

"Look...I...I don't...I can't talk about this, Sandburg."

"Well guess what, you don't get the choice. I want to talk about this, I need to talk about this. Do you have any idea how this has been for me?"

"Please, Chief, I can't..."

"I died, Jim, totally died, not a near death experience, I was all the way dead."

"I know, I brought you back, remember."

"Oh, big deal, I'll alert the media."

"You don't think raising the dead is a big deal?"

"Why should I, you obviously don't...I don't even know why you bothered."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that since it happened you've decided to ignore it and me. If it's such a big deal, then surely it would have deserved at least a passing mention, but no, not one word, and if I try to bring it up you start with the teeth grinding and jutting jaw and the 'I don't want to talk about this'. What do you think that tells me, huh?"

"C'mon, you know I hate talking about stuff, that doesn't mean..."

"Oh, right, I forgot, you're the Sentinel, so what you want is what matters, what I want or need from this relationship is irrelevant."

"That's not true, I..."

"Isn't it? I don't know why I even use the word relationship, since that implies some kind of equality...a little give and take, and from what I can see, I'm the one doing all the giving while you just take and take."

"Chief, I never..."

"Do you have any idea how I've been feeling since Alex killed me?"

"I..."

"No, of course you don't, you were too busy making nice with that evil bitch to care how I was doing."

"I did care...I do care, I always do. I thought you understood...you said yourself that I was caught up in some kind of weird Sentinel mating urge...I couldn't help myself."

"You could have tried."

"I did try."

"Not noticeably. And even after it was over, you barely said two words to me. You never once asked me how I was, if I was feeling okay, and you had to know I wasn't 'cause there's no way you wouldn't pick up the congestion in my lungs."

"I..."

"Unless you stopped monitoring me...that's it isn't it? God, you couldn't even be bothered to check, I guess that tells me how little I matter to you."

"No, that's wrong, you've got it wrong, you matter a lot, but I was...my senses were all out of whack, and..."

"Then you should have talked to me, told me what was going on with you...how am I supposed to help you if you never tell me when you have a problem."

"It's hard for me..."

"Hard? You want to talk about hard? Have you any idea how majorly sucky my life has been lately? Dying was the easy part, now I have to pay for it. I have a whole pharmacy of drugs I'm supposed to take, and unfortunately there aren't too many natural herbal remedies for death, so I pretty much have to stick with my prescriptions, and now they tell me I need counselling, but how do I pay for that when I can barely afford to eat?"

"Chief, I had no idea, I would never..."

"Death...the gift that keeps on giving. Of course you had no idea, you never asked, hell, these days I'm lucky to get more than a grunt out of you, let alone a conversation."

"Look, if the money is a problem, I could..."

"It's not the money. God, it's...it's the total lack of concern. I loved you, and I thought you at least liked me, but now..."

"That's...of course I like you, more than like, I..."

"How can I believe that? You didn't even care that I was fired."

"I did, I was just...I mean, it was because of me, and I felt...responsible, so..."

"So you pretended it hadn't happened."

"I went after Ventriss for you, didn't I?"

"Not for me, Jim. You had no interest in him until he was involved in you're case. I mean, you cared more that he called you old than that he threatened my life, had me beaten up and fired."

"You're not being fair, I..."

"Oh no, don't you dare talk about fair with me. How fair has my life been lately?"

"Look, we can't talk about this here. You're upset so we should go home and..."

"No, no more. I've had enough. I can't take this anymore, Jim. I'm leaving."

"What? No, you can't. What about...what about the Sentinel thing, are you just going to abandon me?"

"Don't even...you don't need me for that any more, you said as much, and you proved it by going after Alex without me. You have your senses pretty much under control now, and Megan knows about them so she can be your new partner. I'm not abandoning you Jim, I'm not the one that does that."

"But this is crazy, where would you go?"

"Anywhere I want. I must have been nuts to stay in an abusive relationship this long. If it was anyone else..."

"Hey wait a minute...abusive? I have never hurt you."

"Oh, yes you have, maybe not physically but there are plenty of other far more destructive ways. You've made me feel inadequate, worthless and incompetent. I've always been strong and confident, but you've chipped away and chipped away at my self-esteem until there's almost nothing left. I'm becoming a pale reflection of you, I mean, god I don't even wear my earrings anymore. I have to leave Jim; I have to get away from you until I turn into the kind of person I despise. I'll catch a ride back with one of the black and whites, I'd be grateful if you would stay away for a few hours while I get my stuff out of your loft."

Blair walked away, away from his Sentinel, away from his friend, away from his life. He didn't dare look back, afraid that one look at Jim and he would lose his resolve and once again stifle his own needs in deference to Jim's. That could not happen again; he was entitled to a life and he meant to have one.

It was beyond his control that that life would be desolate and barren and empty.

***The End***

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