Work Text:
Stopping Time
by Rebel
Run, Sandburg! Now! Don’t look back!
Funny how time slowed for me when I heard those words. Of course, I’d heard people all my life say stuff like ‘how fast time flies when you’re having fun’ or ‘how time dragged’. I knew that time isn’t either fast or slow. It simply is. And it never seemed like there was enough time for me to do all that I wanted to do.
But when I heard Jim hissing those words to me…well, time really did slow down.
Jim and I had been relaxing at home before all this started. Yes, the wandering Sandburg had finally found a home. Of course, wherever Jim Ellison was would be home to my heart, but the loft had become more than four walls, heat, and indoor plumbing. I’d secretly thought of the loft as home for a couple of years and had even called it that aloud. But the day Jim and I became lovers was the day that the loft truly became my home.
But tonight our relaxing evening sitting in front of a warm fire and watching a Jags game was interrupted by a phone call from one of Jim’s snitches, Mikey. Jim would never let it be known, but he’s got a soft spot for kids. Mikey was a teenage runaway who claimed to be nineteen but was probably closer to fifteen. He’d fed Jim enough information that Jim considered him reliable. Both Jim and I had been working on trying to get him off the streets, but Mikey had always refused. Jim was sure he was using drugs although Mikey was never high when meeting with Jim.
But tonight Mikey called in a panic. Said he’d gotten some people angry with him, and he wanted off the street. Said he was willing to do whatever Jim wanted if Jim would just come and get him and keep him safe. So off we went into the rainy night…down to the warehouse district. I listened to Jim bitch about how the city needed to tear down the empty warehouses. Too many bad things happened to people in this neighborhood. Considering that I came to live with Jim when my warehouse apartment in this area blew up, I couldn’t come up with an opposing argument.
When we got to the intersection, Jim turned off the engine of the truck and stared into the darkness. “I see him, Chief,” he quietly spoke. “He’s hiding in the shadows against that warehouse.”
I followed Jim’s line-of-sight but shrugged. “If you say so.” I reached for the door handle only to feel Jim squeeze my other arm.
“Stay in the truck,” Jim ordered. He pulled his Jags cap down further over his forehead to protect his face from the rain.
I pouted but obeyed. Then I jumped when Jim gently squeezed my thigh. “Save the pout for later,” Jim chuckled as he opened the door.
I grinned at him as he gently shut the truck door. I watched in near adoration as he fluidly melted into the shadows. The man was so like his spirit animal. Seconds later, I saw Jim leading Mikey back towards the truck. The teenager was shaking and leaning against Jim for support.
They were halfway back to the truck when Jim suddenly stiffened and fell to his knees. Mikey backed away, his hands raised in either horror or denial before he suddenly fell backwards. I had the door to the truck open and was outside in the rain when I heard Jim’s words, hissed to me laced with pain.
Run, Sandburg! Now! Don’t look back!
I had my cell phone out and hit the speed-dial number for Simon before I saw figures slowly walking out of the darkness. They were gang bangers or hoods. They wore black suits and ties…and sunglasses.
My eyes met Jim’s and I raised my hands to my face in what I hope was interpreted as horror. I hoped the men in black didn’t realize I was palming my cell phone.
“Simon, we’re at Pine and Seventh. It was a set-up by some government ops. Jim’s down, and I’m leaving the line open.” Ignoring Simon’s bewildered voice, I lowered my hands and ran towards Jim. As I knelt next to him, I slipped the open cell phone into my jacket pocket.
“No! Sandburg!” Jim grunted as I knelt next to him.
I saw a dart sticking out from Jim’s neck. I quickly pulled it out and threw it into the darkness. Maybe Simon and the forensics team would find it. Probably not.
“They’d find me, Jim,” I quietly spoke over his protests. I leaned to one side and tried to find Mikey’s pulse.
There wasn’t one.
Jim’s eyes followed me then shut in pained resignation when I gently patted Mikey’s arm and turned back to Jim. “Jim, can you breathe okay?” I glanced up and saw the approaching men had fanned out to prevent any possible escape. They were taking their time and making sure they weren’t being observed.
“I can hear one of them, Chief.” Jim grunted the words, trying hard to stay conscious. “He knows I can hear him. They know about me…us.”
I grabbed Jim’s arm with my left one and practically straddled his body.
“God, Blair, why didn’t you run?! You shouldn’t have to suffer, too!” Jim’s anguished eyes found mine. “They’re going to take us apart, piece by piece!”
“No, they won’t.” My words were quiet and firm. Hoping the darkness concealed my actions, I leaned down and removed Jim’s gun from the holster.
“You can’t get them all, Chief,” Jim sadly pointed out, tears in his blue eyes. “Why didn’t you run?”
“Because you wouldn’t have run and left me alone with them,” I remind him with a crooked grin. “And who says I intend to get them at all?”
Our eyes met and time stopped once again. When time moved again, it seemed as though it slowed for the men in black and sped up for us.
“I love you, Blair Sandburg.” Jim smiled and closed his eyes.
“I love you, Jim Ellison.” I pulled his gun and placed it next to his temple and fired.
The sound of the gunshot seemed to freeze the men in black. I quickly put the gun to my own temple and fired again.
May 2012