Work Text:
Call Out My Name
by Mona Ramsey
"Call Out My Name"
by MonaR.
[email protected]
when you're down and troubled
and you need some loving care
and nothing, nothing is going right
close your eyes and think of me
and soon I will be there
to brighten up even your darkest night
Jim knocked on Simon's door. "Come in."
He dropped the file he was carrying on Simon's desk. "We got the report back from forensics on the kids who o.d.'ed."
"Yeah, I know, I saw it." Simon shook his head. "Poor kid was only 24. How's the girl doing?"
"She was released this morning. The doctor said that it looked like a first time thing with her."
"Well, let's hope that it scared her into being her last time, too."
Jim nodded, and turned to go back into the squad room.
"Jim. Have you heard anything about Blair?"
Jim closed his eyes, and shook his head. "They said that his condition is guarded. If he decides to stay and get some help - "
"And when are you going to go see him?"
"Simon, the last thing I heard out of his mouth was him begging me not to let them take him away. You seriously think that he wants to see me after what I did to him?"
"You saved his life."
/It was the least that I could do, after I helped ruin it./ "Simon - "
"Jim, I'm the one who told you to get on with your life, but you can't until you end things with Blair. Just because you aren't seeing him, doesn't mean that he isn't on your mind - and in your heart. You need to go see him."
"What if he won't let me?"
"Then at least you'll know that you tried, and maybe it will help you to forgive yourself for whatever it is that you think you've done to him."
Jim nodded. "Maybe."
"Do it, Jim," Simon said, firmly. "Do it."
you just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
winter, spring, summer or fall
all you have to do is call
and I'll be there
you've got a friend
"Detective Ellison. Not bringing us more business, I hope?"
He smiled at the nurse at the desk. "Not this time. I was hoping to have a chance to see a patient - Blair Sandburg?"
She checked the charts over. "I'm sorry - he's not here."
Jim's heart sank. "Oh, no. Do you know when he left?"
Another nurse on the desk turned towards the two of them. "Was he the overdose that came in on Thursday? Young, curly hair?"
Jim nodded. "Yes."
"He was moved upstairs yesterday."
Jim couldn't mask his relief. "Upstairs? He didn't leave the hospital, then?"
"No, not yet. He's on three." She gave him a nod and moved away.
The second nurse came from around the desk. "I'm going up there. I can show you were he is, if you'd like."
"Thanks."
They were alone in the elevator, and Jim asked, "Why the move?"
"Oh, the usual reasons - not enough space, not enough money, not enough people."
"Do you know how he's doing?"
She shook her hand. "I haven't seen him since he was transferred. The ward nurse will be able to tell you more." The elevator stopped and she pointed down the hall to the right. "Go through the doors down at the end."
"Thanks."
if the sky above you
grows dark and full of clouds
and that old north wind begins to blow
keep your head together
and call my name out loud
soon you'll hear me knocking at your door
Jim couldn't believe how crowded the ward was. Every single bed was filled and the noise level in the place was amazing. He'd had to pull his badge before anyone would stop and talk to him at all. The harried-looking nurse in charge had pointed him in the direction of Blair's bed and said simply "five", before hurrying away to help a patient who was crying out.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled back the curtain around the fifth bed and walked in. "Blair?"
He was lying on his back, facing away from Jim, and he turned when he heard his name. He looked a lot better than he had when Jim had taken him out of the house - the feral look was gone from his eyes and he was clean, but he was still painfully thin and he looked exhausted and ill. There was a spark, just for a second, when he first saw Jim standing there, but it disappeared so fast that Jim later thought that he'd just imagined it.
"Hi."
His voice was dry and flat, and Jim winced from the pain he could hear in it. "How are you doing?"
He shrugged. "I've been better. I'm not dead."
Jim fought an urge to run, and a warring instinct to take the kid into his arms. He settled for sitting in the hard plastic chair by Blair's bed. "No. You're not."
"How - " His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard to force the words out. "What happened to the others?"
"Sara Thomas was released. She's fine. Hubert Ames was found just before I brought you out." Jim paused, wondering if he should tell Blair, then decided that lying to him wouldn't do any good. In any case, he'd just find out later. "He was pronounced dead at the scene."
/Sara./ Blair tried to remember who she was, what she looked like, but nothing came to mind. She was probably just someone who'd stopped by that night, purely by chance. He'd talked her into staying, sharing some of the bounty he'd 'found' after he'd rolled his dealer in the alley.
/Hubert./ That name didn't mean anything to him. "I don't know anyone named - " Blair stopped, realization finally hitting him. "Oh my god. H. He never told me his name."
He started to cry. Jim tried to take his hand, but he flinched away. He just ruined everything he touched, and he didn't ever want to touch something that he loved again. "Just go away, okay?" he said, desperately. He hardened his voice, trying to hurt Jim so that he'd just leave, just forget about him, just get on with his life. "I'm going to be fine, and you don't have to hover over me all the time. Your job is done, Detective. I don't need your help." Blair turned over on his side on the bed.
Jim stood there watching him for a moment, his heart in his throat, then stood and pulled the curtain back around the bed, and left. He stopped the nurse that was going in to Blair's cubicle. "Is he all right?"
She nodded, giving him a small smile. "As well as can be expected, in here."
"What does that mean?"
She sighed. "He's a ward case. He doesn't have any money, no insurance, no family. You're the first visitor that he's had since he came in. If we hadn't had an extra bed when he was brought in, he'd have been shipped to the County hospital, which is even more crowded than we are. We don't know that he won't be sent there. We do the best that we can, but - " She looked around at the crowded ward. "Most of our patients are in the first stages of withdrawal when they come through the ward, so they're screaming, crying, sick, all hours of the day and night. It's impossible for anyone to get any sleep for the noise, and it's hard for us to give them the attention that they need when they all need it. The rest of the patients are diseased or dying, and most of them are in so much pain that they make noise all the time, too. In a perfect world, there would be enough time and money for all of them, but we don't live in a perfect world, detective."
Jim looked around. "So how much would it be to transfer him to a private room?"
She looked at him in shock. "But - "
"I'll pay for it," Jim said, cutting her off.
She just nodded. "You might be saving his life."
He took another anguished look at where Blair lay, blocked from his view by the curtain. "He's going to save himself. I just hope I can help."
Inside, Blair was crying. "Congratulations," he said softly to himself. "You've just gotten rid of the only thing that you had left."
you just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
winter, spring, summer or fall
all you have to do is call
and I'll be there
About an hour after Jim left the nurse came cheerily into Blair's cubicle, pushing a wheelchair. She parked it and drew back the curtain. "Well, it looks like you've got a guardian angel."
"What are you talking about?" Blair asked, tiredly. He felt as though it had been days since he'd had any sleep.
"You're moving again."
"There can't possibly be anyplace in this hospital that's worse than this," Blair groaned. "What are they doing, throwing me out on the street?"
"Nope. Somebody's decided to treat you to a room of your own."
/Oh, god./ There was only one person who could possibly have done this for him. /Jim./ "No, I can't take it."
"Blair, do you want to kick this or not? If you do, stay here and give it a chance. If not, maybe the street would be the best place for you, and we can take in someone who has a chance."
"But he can't afford it. I can't take his money."
"He didn't ask, Blair, he offered. He obviously thinks that you're worth it." She smiled at him, kindly. "If I could find someone who loved me as much as he obviously loves you, I'd hold on to him."
Blair blushed, his eyes downcast. /She wouldn't even joke if she knew what I've done to him./ "I've hurt him so much - "
"He obviously doesn't think so. He believes in you, Blair." She continued her gentle teasing. "Besides, he's awfully cute." She pulled back the blanket and held out her hand. "What are you waiting for? C'mon, let's get out of here."
He shook his head, but realized that any argument he could make really didn't mean very much. The person that he needed to talk to was Jim, and, despite what the nurse had said about him, after the way that he'd treated Jim, he didn't know if he'd ever get the chance.
ain't it good to know that you've got a friend
when people can be so cold
they'll hurt you, and desert you
and take your soul if you let them
He got the chance the next day. The room was incredible - it was tiny and depressing and gray, but it had walls and a door and it was his. It was wonderful to be able to be sick without twenty other people watching. The withdrawal was doing a number on his body - sweats, shakes, nightmares, the whole nine yards. The first couple of days he'd just wanted to get the hell out of here and score, anything to make it better, and wild thoughts of just killing himself like H had ran through his mind. He thought the pain alone would kill him. But every day that he survived he was a tiny step closer to kicking, and that was the only thing that he held on to. He knew that this was his last chance - if he went back again, he would die. Months and months of just not caring what happened to him were finally over.
The drugs they were giving him to counteract the need for heroin were helping, but soon he'd need to kick them, too. Still, every once in a while he could just sleep - maybe for only a few minutes, but sometimes for an hour or more - and that sleep was like balm to his weary soul. He was almost beginning to believe that he would survive.
"Can I come in?"
Blair looked up at the figure in his doorway, and his eyes immediately filled with tears. Unable to speak, he just nodded.
"Hey, I'm sorry," Jim said, stepping slightly into the room, still half in the doorway. "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't have to stay."
"No, that's not it," Blair said, quickly. "I just can't believe that you're here. After everything that I said to you - after everything that I've done to you, and here you are." He held out his hand, and Jim took it, sitting down beside him. "They told me that you're paying for this room."
Jim nodded. "You need to get better. You weren't, out there."
"I will pay you back," Blair said. "As soon as I get out of here and can get a job. I promise."
"Don't worry about that now, Blair. Just concentrate on getting healthy again. Worry about everything else when that's happened, okay?"
Blair nodded. "Okay." He laughed softly. "I mean, what are the chances of me even being able to get a job when I get out of here? Who's going to want to hire an ex-junkie? I really screwed up my future, didn't I?"
"Blair, it's going to get better. You're going to make sure of that. And I'm - " He wanted to say, 'I'm going to help, I'm going to love you and take care of you', but he resisted. "I'm going to be behind you, for anything that you need."
Blair smiled at him. "How did I ever get so lucky as to have you in my life, anyway?"
"Lucky?" Jim laughed, bitterly. "If it hadn't been for me, pushing you the way that I did, putting pressure on you all the time, none of this would have happened."
Blair's eyes got wide. "Jim - do you think that's why this happened to me? Oh, Jim, no, no - I was using before I ever knew you, before we ever even met. I started myself down that path. It didn't have anything to do with you. It was me. I fucked up. I got scared, and overwhelmed, and ashamed - ashamed of myself, not of you. I just couldn't handle anything, so I ran away." He squeezed Jim's hand, hard. "It didn't have anything to do with you. You were wonderful, and I ruined that, too. I'm so sorry."
"It just wasn't meant to be, that's all," Jim said, feeling his heart wrenching inside.
"I guess not." How he ever managed a smile when he felt like his world was ending, Blair would never know. He kept his tight hold on Jim's hand. "Maybe we can be friends?" he asked, hopefully.
"Always," Jim said.
"Always," Blair echoed.
you just call out my name
and you know wherever I am
I'll come running to see you again
winter, spring, summer or fall
all you have to do is call
and I'll be there
you've got a friend
The End
MonaR.