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Blair stood beside his green Volvo, his back slightly leaning against its frame. His school bag hung over his shoulder and his arms were crossed over his chest. He was staring up at a building he'd come to know so well. A place he'd called home for much longer than the one week he'd promised Jim.
It had been nearly a week since Blair had 'disappeared'. All he wanted to do was have some time to himself. Some time to make a lot of decisions regarding certain aspects of his life and to clear his mind. To him, it had practically been a week of vacation. To everybody else it had been a week of hell. They had no idea where he'd gone, if anything bad had happened to him or if he would ever be coming back. Their detective skills turned up nothing. No note, no sign of a struggle, nothing different that would indicate something had gone wrong. One minute he was there, the next he was gone.
"Maybe he went out of town to visit his mother..." Simon suggested as a very anxious Jim paced back and forth in his office.
"He would've left a note, sir." Jim stopped suddenly, frowned, and looked up at his captain. "It's just not like Blair."
"Sandburg's been going through a tough time lately, hasn't he? He died for Christ sakes."
"I know, I was there!!" Simon's face darkened and Jim sighed. "I'm sorry, sir. None of this makes sense. I just wish I knew where he was, what he's doing, if he's all right..."
"We all want to know, Jim." Simon pulled a cigar out of his jacket pocket, slid off the wrapper and bit down on the very end of it. "We were there, too."
"I'm worried, captain."
"You think something bad's happened to him?"
Jim passed a hand wearily over his face and squinted out through the blinds in Simon's office and watched as Detectives Rafe and Brown stood beside one another, whispering things back and forth.
"I don't know, sir. I just don't know."
"We've put out an APB on him. Somebody's bound to spot all that hair at some point."
They looked at each other and Jim smiled weakly.
"You look like hell, Ellison. Go home and get some sleep."
"Not until I know that he's okay. That he's safe."
"You're no good to us if you don't rest, Jim." For a second, Simon's face was full of concern and worry. "Now go home, detective. That's an order."
A cold gust of wind blew Blair's hair to one side of his head and he shivered. He knew that he should just go inside before he caught a cold, but there were still things that were troubling him. For one, he felt guilty about leaving in such a hurry. It hadn't been planned. He'd nearly had an anxiety attack after a nightmare about the incident with Alex Barnes, and so he'd grabbed a bunch of his things, stuffed them into a bag, and had gone without so much as a goodbye. It was a stupid thing to do, he knew, but it was something that he'd needed to do.
He was still unsure about so many things in his life. Specifically he wasn't sure where he felt the most at home. He wasn't sure if he was still welcome at the loft. Especially after Jim had kicked him out. Ever since he'd moved back in, he felt like somewhat of an outsider.
He finally got up enough courage and walked into the building. Thinking it would take less time to take the elevator, Blair began his trek up the three flights of stairs. It seemed like an eternity before he finally reached the third floor. He readjusted the strap from his bag on his shoulder as he walked down to the very end of the hall.
His keys were in his hand, but his hand hesitated when he looked down at the door knob. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face Jim. He wasn't even sure if Jim would even be there.
Suddenly the door flew open, revealing a tense, tired, and sore sentinel wearing a pair of boxers and a muscle shirt. He'd been in the middle of scratching his side, and his left hand was still holding the door open. He froze. Blair froze when he looked up into the sad, blue eyes of one Jim Ellison. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Jim throwing his arms around him and holding him in a death grip, temporarily knocking the air out of his lungs.
They stood like that for about five minutes before Blair finally spoke.
"I'm sorry." Jim pulled back just enough to be able to see his guide's face and he looked at him with a puzzled expression on his face. "For leaving, I mean. I-I know, I should've left a-a note or a.... a..." He trailed off and stared down at the floor.
"You should have." A smile spread across Jim's face. "But you're here now. And you're okay. Right?"
"Right. But Jim-"
"And you won't ever leave like that ever again, right?"
"Yeah... Jim?"
"What is it, chief?"
"Can I... come in?"
"Welcome home, buddy."
All of Blair's worries were pushed aside as a strong arm pulled him inside. He recalled something his mother had told him as a child. Home is where the heart is. And, for the moment, his heart was in the loft with Jim.