Work Text:
Blair left on a Thursday. There was no note, no number, nothing, just absolute silence, but Jim knew the reasons. Blair's career was gone, given away during a press conference to save his best friend, his Sentinel, and a new career, a career as a cop at Jim's side was put on hold and then eventually abandoned entirely.
Blair couldn't be a cop, wouldn't, even if it meant leaving Jim's side. He just wasn't one to carry a gun he would have been trained to use with deadly force. And Blair had already given up enough of himself that he couldn't give up one more piece.
So he looked for another job. And looked. But everywhere he turned, he was met with hostility, and in some cases, outright discrimination. He was a fraud, and everybody in Cascade knew it. He was at the bottom, and he felt like there was no way out. That is, until Jim made a suggestion.
Jim suggested suing Sid Graham and Berkshire Publishing, because, after all, Blair had never given his consent for the release of his dissertation, let alone the release of any excerpts. But Blair didn't want money, he didn't want notoriety, he just wanted his career back, and his place beside Jim at the station. He wanted things to be the way they were, before Hurricane Naomi blew everything to hell with one breeze into town.
So Blair called Beverly Sanchez, who had left the District Attorney's office a year prior to start her own law firm, and who still felt a gratitude to both Jim and Blair for saving her life at the hands of Tommy Juno.
A month later, Berkshire Publishing posted an apology in newspapers all across the states, admitting their negligence and agreeing to pay Blair a settlement of $250,000 for his pain and suffering. Sid Graham wasn't mentioned, but the day after the announcement, he was let go with a considerably smaller severance.
Blair went back to Rainier with a letter of apology from Berkshire Publishing in his hand and met with Chancellor Edwards, but she stood by her original decision; she had fired Blair for bringing negative publicity to the university and for the way he had handled the situation. She went on to say that the manner in which he handled the press conference led people to the conclusion that he was a fraud, and that the apology from the publishing company didn't change anything. He may have not given permission to the publishing company, but he didn't, at any point, deny that he'd written the dissertation with the intention of presenting it for approval. It was his word against hers.
Feeling like he hadn't gained anything for his troubles, Blair sank into a depression. The fight had drained out of him.
Naomi called the next day, and hearing the sadness she knew she'd caused, she invited him to come and stay with her at a retreat near Austin, Texas. She reminded him of the time they'd spent there years ago, a time when things were easier and simpler; he promised to think about it. And he did. It was all he talked about, and his depression lifted, and everything seemed to be fine.
They made love the night before Blair left, made love like they had in the beginning after Blair's resurrection. It was intense and spiritual and shattering. And in the morning, Jim kissed Blair goodbye, not realizing how much of a goodbye it truly would be.
And when Jim got home, the silence greeted him. That was all that was left.
A year later
Ring
He shifted the phone to the left ear.
Ring
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Ring
He sighed.
The answering machine started its spiel.
"If you're calling about the truck, I sold it. If this is Tuesday, I'm playing poker. If you're selling something, you're wasting your time; I'm not buying. If it's anybody else, wait for the tone, you know what to do. P.S. If this is Austin, I still love you."
The phone felt from Blair's hand, clattering on the counter.
Beep
Hurriedly, Blair grabbed the elusive phone and hung it up.
He still loves me! Blair thought, smiling. But how can he still love me after I left him like that? Without a word, without an explanation. Blair sighed, shaking his head. Because he's Jim. Because he knew I'd come back. Because he loves me.
Blair didn't wipe the tear away that rolled down his cheek, his mind was already on leaving, on returning.
Jim tossed his keys into the basket and hung his jacket up. Seeing the blinking red light on the answering machine, he pushed the button as he unhooked his holster.
"..."
He froze. While there was no obvious sound, there was someone there. Something. Something recognizable.
Blair's heartbeat. And then it was gone.
Sliding down to the floor, Jim let his head fall back against the cabinets and tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. For a brief flicker of a second, the silence had disappeared. Stretching his arm up, he hit the button again.
Three days later
Ring
His heart pounded loudly in his chest.
Ring
He swallowed against the frog in his throat.
Ring
He had no idea what he was going to say.
The answering machine started its spiel.
"If it's Friday night, I'm at a Jag's game. And first thing Saturday, if it doesn't rain, I'm going out to the lake and I'll be gone all weekend long. But I'll call you back when I get home Sunday afternoon. P.S. If this is Austin, I still love you."
beep
Blair finally knew what to say.
"512-555-7804"
And he hung up and waited for Sunday afternoon.
Jim listened to the message twice before he thought about breathing. He dropped the tackle box he'd been gripping in a white knuckled fist and grabbed the phone. He had to hang up and redial because he was dialing too fast and missed a number.
Ring
He tried to control his breathing.
Ring
He closed his eyes.
Ring
He leaned against the counter for support.
"If you're calling about my heart, it's still yours. I should have listened to it a little more, and it might not have taken me so long to know where I belong. And by the way, Jim, this is no machine you're talking to. Can't you tell? This is Austin, and I still love you."
Jim's smile split his face.
"Come home." That's all he said.
"Yes." Was the only answer.
Three days later
Blair parked beside a new Ford Expedition, similar to the one Jim had previously owned. He grabbed his backpack from the seat beside him and got out.
He took the stairs slowly, knowing without knowing, that Jim was tracking his progress. Outside the door to the loft, Blair hesitated, and then slid his key inside the lock and opened the door.
Jim was standing directly in front of him. Their eyes met, and Blair dropped the forgotten backpack to the floor.
"I'm home," Blair whispered.
"We both are," Jim answered, opening his arms to let Blair slide home.
And then the silence was gone, as quickly as it had come.
The end.
Austin by Blake Shelton
(She changed to He)
He left without leavin' a number,
Said he needed time to clear his mind,
He figured he'd gone back to Austin
Cause he talked about it all the time.
It was almost a year before he called him up.
Three rings and an answering machine is what he got.
If you're calling about the car, I sold it.
If this is Tuesday night, I'm bowlin'.
If you've got somethin' to sell, you're wastin' your time,
I'm not buyin'.
If it's anybody else, wait for the tone,
You know what to do.
P.S. If this is Austin, I still love you.
The telephone fell to the counter.
He heard but he couldn't believe.
What kind of man would hang on this long?
What kind of love that must be.
He waited three days, and then he called again.
He didn't know what he'd say, but he read three rings and then...
If it's Friday night, I'm at the ball game. And first thing Saturday, if it don't rain, I'm going out to the lake and I'll be gone all weekend long. But I'll call you back when I get home on Sunday afternoon. P.S. If this is Austin, I still love you.
This time he left his number and not another word. He waited by the phone on Sunday evening, And this is what he heard...
If you're calling about my heart, it's still yours. I should've listened to it a little more, Then it wouldn't have taken me so long to know where I belong. And by the way, boy, this is no machine you're talking to. Can't you tell, this is Austin, I still love you.
I still love you