* * * * *
Set the first night after Blair’s Press Conference:
Jim’s eyes fluttered open and he lay perfectly still, letting his sensitive eyes grow accustomed to the near blackness of his bedroom. Judging from the stillness it had to be late, or rather, early. Very early, according to the lighted face of the clock on his night stand. Far too early for a normal human being to be awake. So why was he?
He began to scan the loft with his senses. It didn’t take long to discover the reason for his current state of wakefulness. Sighing mightily,. Jim rolled out of bed, wincing as sensitive feet landed on the cold floor. He surveyed the room below until he found the source of the sound. The other heartbeat that occupied the loft was coming from a different direction than usual. Blair was out on the balcony.
Tugging on his soft terrycloth robe, Jim eased gingerly down the stairs, grimacing as the cold metal seemed to bite into his tender sentinel feet. He shivered in the cold livingroom, chilled by the open balcony doors, and wondered how his cold-hating roommate could stand being outside with no coat. But there Blair stood, in his short sleeved T-shirt and sweatpants, just leaning against the low stone wall as if gazing out over their domain.
The young man didn’t acknowledge Jim’s presence as he came to stand behind him. The detective wasn’t even sure Blair knew he was there. But then, a whisper of a voice drifted back to him.
“Jim....”
It wasn’t a question, not really a greeting. It seemed more than anything to be just a statement of Ellison’s existence. As if Blair had pointed down to the parking lot and said “Car”. Something told the sentinel that he should remain silent, and he did. Waiting. Watching. Blair didn’t move or speak again for a long minute. When he did, his voice was steady and calm, as if he were back in front of his students again.
“I don’t think I understand myself, man,” he said, straightening slightly as if to stretch stiff muscles.
Jim waited, but his friend fell silent again. Hoping he was correct in his feeling that he was being cued, he asked quietly, “What do you mean, Chief?”
A humorless chuckle, then “Well, I’ve been thinking over the past few years.” The young man ran a hand through his wind-blown curls. “In the last three years I’ve been kidnapped, beat up, knocked out, drugged, shot at, SHOT, I’ve jumped out of a plane, I’ve faced down serial killers. Killed. Dead, I have been DEAD, for crying out loud.” Blair took a deep breath, then turned around to face his partner.
Jim watched. Blair kept his head down, as if ashamed to meet his eyes. He had to open his hearing to the maximum to catch the next words.
“And even after all that, I don’t think I’ve ever been as scared as I am right now.” Sandburg tried to take a deep breath, but it caught on the way in, causing him to gasp unevenly.
Jim reached out and laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, mouth open helplessly as he tried to think of words that could possibly offer comfort. The man he owed his life to suddenly buried his face in his hands, voice breaking as his grief finally broke through and spilled over.
“Oh god, Jim.... What am I gonna do?" Sandburg’s voice cracked and strained, the words barely slipping out as sobs began to take over.
Jim’s throat slammed shut against a sudden rush of anguish as he reached out both arms to draw Blair against his chest. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his own emotions at bay until he could give Sandburg the care and tenderness he deserved. He wound one arm around the slim waist, hugging Blair’s cold body against his own, still warm from the loft’s heat. He snarled the fingers of his other hand almost violently into the mass of dark hair, pressing the curl-covered head desperately against his shoulder as Blair continued to sob.
They stood together, not speaking. Comfort would be given. And comfort would be taken, but not right away. For now there were no words. The only the sounds, those of a young man’s grief echoing the crash of a hundred ruined dreams drifting out into the early morning hours of a sleeping city.