Title: Lover's Leap

Author: Scorpio

Archive: Yes to Peja & Heather

Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim/Blair

Rating: NC-17

Catagory: Action/drama/angst/post TSbBS/story challenge

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. Pet Fly Productions do. I didn't write the first section. Debra C did as part of her Story Challenge.

Notes: This story was written as a Challenge Response that was issued by Debra C. on the Senad Discussion List. Due to the lovely feedback I got, I am figureing on a sequel after a week or so.

Warning: m/m relationship (slash), extreme violence, insanity (as per challenge requirements - grin), no actual charater deaths (as per challenge requirements), written under the influence of little sleep and a chocolate buzz.

Summary: The events of TSbBS finally come to fruitation. Jim and Blair suffer...

Lover's Leap

by Scorpio

"I LOVE YOU!" ...I Love You!... i love you...

The words played for a time among the rocks before finally fading away.

"JIM!" ...Jim!... Jim!... jim...

"You have a *NICE ASS*!" ...Nice Ass!... nice ass... ass...

Blair giggled as the words bounced back to him from the stone wall across the deep, narrow chasm. Bubbling laughter which quickly grew into full blown belly laughs and just as quickly ended as the sobs beginning to rack his body brought him to his knees.

INSANE! ...Insane... insane... The last word echoed and bounced around the hills and valleys of Blair's mind.

The soft breeze wafting up over the rim of the chasm quickly dried the evidence of Blair's pain. Blue eyes stared unseeing at the rocks forming the floor of the chasm far below. How long had those smooth rocks been there? Time and the elements slowing and patiently eroding them away. Tiny fragments finding their way into the alluvial fan forming the top of the valley. Finally making their way to the small stream running across the end of the valley and, maybe some day, all the way to the sea.

How long would that journey take? How long did it take to wear something so strong down? To break it apart and set the pieces adrift? Happening so slowly you couldn't see it.

The several hundred or so feet down to those rocks didn't bother Blair as it once would have. There was no fear of falling anymore. It was long past the time for that. Besides isn't that what he was here for now? To fall.

No, no fear anymore. Just the promise of peace.

Climbing to his feet, Blair stepped closer to the edge, kicking a few pebbles loose to start the journey over the edge. Heralds announcing the imminent arrival of another guest to the colony of rocks below. Another guest. The second in as many days.

"Jim. I love you."

Words so softly whispered they could hardly have caused an echo. Even to Sentinel ears. Sentinel ears like Jim's.

Jim.

But Sentinel ears weren't, *couldn't be*, here now. But yesterday... yesterday they had. Been here. *Jim* had been here.

The first guest.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Three days before...

Blair lay in the steel light of the early winter dawn, watching with haunted eyes as his lover shifted restlessly in uneasy sleep. Jim was suffering from an old nightmare. He was reliving the events that had brought Jim's Sentinel abilities to the public and Blair's empathic abilities into being.

Well, technically, according to Debra, Naomi's personal Metaphysical Counselor, Blair had *always* had empathic abilities. They had been dormant, unused and untouchable, until a traumatic emotional upheaval of immense proportions shoved it into an active state. Blair had pinpointed that upheaval to the same event that gave Jim nightmares even still. The unauthorized release of his dissertation by Sid.

Now, more than a year after the disaster that had ended Blair's career as an Anthropology Teacher and started his life as a Police Detective, they were both still paying the price. They both still suffered.

Not so much with Jim's senses and Blair's empathy. No, they had figured out how to solve those problems for the most part. When Jim's senses were causing him problems or the world was just too much, he would bury them in Blair. Blair always could soothe his senses. He was Jim's Guide after all. When Blair felt too much, when the emotional press from the city got to be unbearable, he turned to Jim. The Sentinel's iron discipline and overwhelming love for Blair was all the filter he needed to keep from loosing himself among the hundreds of thoughts and feelings pouring into him from all sides.

It was only when Jim was caught in a nightmare, like now, that being so tightly connected to his Sentinel was hard. Just as it was hard on Jim when Blair wasn't at his... freshest. There was no way for them to block the other out.

Reaching out a warm hand to pet and soothe Jim, Blair cooed softly. Gentle sounds of love and comfort designed to calm his love.

"shhh..., love... it's all right, everything's good, shhh..."

Seeing Jim settle slowly into a more neutral sleep, Blair thought about what was the true core of the problems that beset them since that hurtful day. As for their personal relationship, the trauma of everything that had happened only brought them closer together. They had discovered a deep and abiding love for one another. They had forgiven each other any fault or blame. It was the rest of the world that couldn't let it go.

With the exception of the very few people in Major Crimes who *knew* the truth, Blair was actively and forcefully shunned by *everyone*. That was not easy to take. Especially with the empathy. Blair could *feel* the hatred, distrust, disgust, and even jealousy aimed his way on a horribly regular basis. Jim couldn't feel their emotions, but he could hear the conversations those feelings sparked, he could see the glares and smell the changes in body chemistry when people became angry or afraid. The Police Station was an uncomfortable place to be for both of them.

If vicious co-workers and semi-reliable back-up weren't enough of a hassle, they had found that the cases they worked on, no matter how well put together, no matter how air-tight, no matter how 'by-the-book', were always torn apart and reviewed. By I.A., by the D.A., by the Chief and the Mayor and everyone else who could finagle a chance to say; 'Proof that Sandburg *lied* again and *I* found it.' or 'Proof that Ellison *is* a Sentinel and *I* found it'. It was,... disheartening, to say the least.

Blair used to have tons of friends and acquaintances. Now he could count them on one hand,... literally. All of them were from Major Crimes and had been told the *truth* about Jim and the dissertation. Jim had once had, if not tons, then at least some close friends and lots of friendly co-workers and military buddies. Now, he too was shunned for forgiving Blair and even for allowing the spectacle to have happened in the first place.

They had begun to talk seriously about leaving Cascade for warmer, and definitely more friendly shores. Someplace where the events surrounding the release of the dissertation would not continue to haunt them so mercilessly. But where?

Not finding an answer on the slowly brightening ceiling, Blair snuggled down closer to his lover and slipped back into a fitful sleep.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

*...brrrinnng... ...brrrinnng... ...brrrinnng...*

"'lo?..."

"Blair? This is Jack Kellso."

"jack?... s'up man? time'z it?"

"5:47. Blair. Wake up and get out of the loft. *Now!* Take Jim with you and just go! Go far and go fast! They're coming and they know that your dissertation was *real*!"

"Jack!? Who's *they*? What's going on?"

"Look, I'm sorry that I didn't know about this sooner, but I *just* found out myself. Jim will know how to contact me if you need to, but do that *only* in an extreme emergency. Now GO!"

*...beeeeeeeeeep...*

Blair looked in horror at the phone whining it's dial tone at him. He turned his head slowly towards his lover. Jim was wide awake and sitting up. His handsome face was pale with shock and his jaw clenched so hard that Blair had an irrational thought about cracked enamel and the expense of dental work.

Then it hit him in a rush of emotions pouring off of Jim like a sledge hammer. It was almost overwhelming.

Fear. Anger. Desperation. Violence.

The hunter had become the hunted.

"Get up and get dressed."

Jim was already reaching for clothes. His movements were swift, but not panicked. He tossed a pair of jeans at Blair.

"Pack up some clothing for us and then grab the essentials from the bathroom. Throw some food together into some boxes or bags. I'll grab the camping and emergency gear. I've also got some weapons in storage down stairs. Leftovers from the military and other things I've collected. We'll pack up the truck and leave."

"Jim?... What's going on? I don't..."

Jim cut him off.

"Blair. You know as well as I do that Jack's got heavy contacts with the CIA and only-God-knows how many other government and international intelligence agencies. If he says that *they* are coming, he means that we are scheduled to disappear into thin air."

Sentinel stared at Guide and Guide stared at Sentinel. A long moment where the physical and psychic link between them strengthened and flared with a shared love and trust. Together. Whatever happened, they would stick by each others sides.

"To death do us part."

"Yeah Chief. To death do us part."

Breaking the moment, Jim quickly finished dressing and hurried to pack the camping and survival gear into the truck. Blair followed suit and threw together some clothing and food rations. Within the space of fifteen minutes, Sentinel and Guide were on the run.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

They had fled inland and then south. Sometimes they were on very public roads and sometimes they were on smaller back roads. They were pursued the entire way.

The agents were good. Damn good. Anyone besides a Sentinel and Guide team wouldn't even have noticed them at all. As it was, Jim could often see, hear and even a few times, smell them. Many times, Blair could pick up faint echoes of their emotions and thoughts, but it was hard to do because of the distance and the extreme discipline the faceless agents possessed. Even with their unique advantages, they lost track of the pursuers on several occasions.

Finally, after nearly 24 hours of continuos driving, a sniper in an unmarked military style helicopter killed the 69 Ford with a bullet through it's engine. In a frantic, pulse pounding adrenaline rush, they careened off of the country road and crashed through some underbrush. Praying to numerous gods in a variety of languages, Blair watched in horrified fascination as the world swirled around them as the truck tumbled down the side of a hill.

A jarring impact with a huge boulder stopped the Ford from completing it's mad, rolling journey to the dry river bed bellow. They stopped with all four wheels and the underbelly of the truck facing skyward and the only thing keeping Blair in his seat was the tight grip of his seat-belt. For one nauseating moment, he thought he was going to empty his stomach. The only thing that prevented that was the steady stream of hair raising curses pouring forth from his lovers mouth. Audible proof that Jim was still alive.

A surge of unfamiliar triumph washed over him like an icy blast of arctic wind. A shiver ran down his spine.

"Jim man. We *have* to get out of here. We're sitting ducks and the bad guys are coming. I can *feel* it."

Spitting out a few more viscous oaths, Jim reached over and unhooked his seat-belt. With a controlled grace that belied his seemingly overwhelming anger and frustration, Jim slid out of his seat and wiggled around until he was sitting on what had been the roof. After a few unsuccessful tries that had Blair biting his bottom lip raw, Jim put his shoulder into it and managed to push open the drivers side door. Clambering out, Jim turned and peered back in.

"Okay Chief. Your turn."

Putting one hand on the roof under him to control his descent and prevent him from twisting his neck, Blair unhooked the seat-belt and maneuvered around so Jim could pull him out. Sore and undoubtedly bruised in many places, they began to do a quick search for as much of their things as they could find.

Blair collected the weapons and ammo from the front of the truck and Jim located some of their scattered camping gear. They didn't find very much when suddenly Jim cocked his head slightly, listening intently.

Blair slipped instantly into Guide Mode. Stumbling over to his lover's side, he watched his face for any signs beyond simple concentration. His empathy however, picked up Jim's sudden surge of fear even though his face remained stoic.

"Jim? What man?"

Jim turned him around by his shoulders and pushed.

"Go! The trucks going to blow."

Blair blinked. Then he ran. He could hear and feel Jim's presence directly behind him. All of his injuries were firmly pushed out of his mind by the desperate need to flee. They made a hundred feet before the truck exploded.

A concussive force blasted into Blair's back slamming him forward off of his feet. The air was whooshed out of his lungs when his body impacted against the hard, rocky ground. He hadn't had time to draw a single breath when he was slammed into from behind. Hard.

Darkness swirled up around him.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Pain.

Dizzy movement.

Slowly, Blair felt himself rise up out of oblivion. Instantly he was attacked by pain. Physical pain from his wounds. Definitely some cracked ribs, various bruises and probably an assortment of cuts and scrapes. A pounding headache and nausea rounded everything out. Emotional pain flowed over him from a very familiar source. Jim. The Sentinel was radiating vengeful anger, a sense of betrayal, fear for his Guide, and a black swirling hatred.

Blair moaned.

"Hey buddy, Chief. You with me again?"

The movement stopped for a second and then Blair's world tilted and swayed alarmingly.

"Shhh... Hey, it's me. I've got you."

It was only then that Blair realized that Jim had been carrying him in a Fireman's Hold, sort of slung over one shoulder. Moving slowly and carefully, Jim set him back on his feet. For a moment, Blair didn't think his wobbly legs would hold him.

"Jim?... What happened? Where are we?"

"The explosion knocked you out and I heard the helicopter land, so I knew we couldn't stay by the wreckage. As for where we are, well, we're somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. That's all I know for sure."

Blair looked around. It was, ironically enough, beautiful here. The forest was thick with evergreens of many kinds and the world seemed very peaceful and free. Blair knew that was only an illusion, however. Their reality was not so idyllic. They were stranded on a mountain side without proper provisions and Blair, at least, was injured. Jim wasn't in much better shape from what Blair could see. The Sentinel looked tired and drawn, as if he was running on pure adrenaline and that desperate need was all that was holding him together.

"Are we being followed?"

"Yeah. I can hear them. They're still a ways off, but they found the trail. I haven't been able to hide it real well carrying you and the weapons. I've been just trying for speed and distance."

"Well, I can walk now, so maybe we can throw them off the trail."

"No. I don't think that will work. We'll lose too much speed. We should try to find a defensible spot and then. and then stop them from being able to follow us. Then leave the area."

"You mean ambush them and then kill them, don't you Jim?"

Jim didn't answer. He didn't have to, Blair could *feel* the truth of it with his empathy. He also could feel that Jim honestly thought that this was their only hope for escape. It had become a life and death fight for survival and freedom.

Pulling a plastic bottle of warm water from the single small pack that Jim had brought with them, he handed it over to Blair.

"Here. I managed to salvage this."

Gratefully, Blair swallowed two mouthfuls before recapping the bottle. He handed it back to Jim, who placed it back in the pack.

"Thanks man."

Flashing a smile that Blair hadn't seen since this whole crazy adventure had begun, Jim handed over Blair's service pistol and ammo clips. Automatically, Blair went through the motions of checking it's status, noting the number of rounds in the gun and extra clips.

"Come on Chief. Let's get moving. Let me know if you need a rest or something."

"Sure man."

Turning, Blair limped behind Jim, his eyes on the trail in front of him. Each step jarred his twisted knee and each breath throbbed in his cracked ribs. He wished they had something to use to bind them up, but as the old saying went; If wishes were fishes, I'd feed the world.

To take his mind off of the additional damage this trek through the untamed wilderness was doing to his already battered body, Blair let his mind loose to consider all that had happened. Some small voice whispered that this wasn't such a hot idea, but Blair couldn't help himself. It was his nature to examine things from all sides.

From the brief and varied hints and feelings he had picked up empathetically on the chase down here, Blair figured that their pursuers wanted to capture them alive if at all possible. Dead was only if they couldn't be caught. All of the minds that he had touched considered Blair and Jim to be armed and dangerous. That was, for all intents and purposes, true. However, only one of those minds seemed to be aware of the significance of not only who, but *what* they were.

That was frightening. It conjured up images of laboratories and secret experiments. Blair wasn't really sure if those images were born in his own fertile imagination, or if they sprang from the mind of their enemy. In either case, Blair most definitely didn't want to be forced to watch the government put Jim through torture tests to see how he'd react. Nor did he want to be used as leverage to force Jim to use his gifts to carry out some horrifying and unnamed project.

Blair shivered at the very thought. His heart broke at imagining his proud lover locked in a cage to be poked and prodded at by faceless and cold scientists. Jim was a gift to be treasured, not a *thing* to pick apart to see how it ticks.

Suddenly, in a wave of soul chilling guilt, Blair recognized a simple and undeniable fact. This was all his fault. Jack Kellso had said that they knew his dissertation was real. That *damn* paper was haunting them again, and it was worse than he could ever have imagined. For the millionth time, Blair wished he had never written the stupid thing.

The agents were hunting them down because he, Blair Jacob Sandburg, had written a Nobel Prize winning book that loudly proclaimed Jim to be the one thing the government would want to own and control more than anything in the world. A military trained Sentinel. A soldier that could detect an enemy and then kill him without being seen himself. A genetically enhanced warrior.

It was all his fault. The danger to his beloved. The destruction of his life as a cop. The need to run from a government he once served. All of it was Blair's fault.

The weight of his guilt rushed over him in a swirl of agony. He was bombarded by waves of anger and hatred from Jim. Granted, they were aimed at the enemy, but Blair felt that he deserved that white hot rage to be focused on him as well. Combined with all of that, Blair could also feel the edges of their hunters feelings. It was a decidedly horrible thing to *feel* the cold and dispassionate thoughts emanating from the nameless men stalking them.

Blair had often told Jim that the hardest part of being an empath was the, often times, overpowering need to adapt to the people around him. It was as if, sensing and feeling the emotions of others, he would feel a desire to become that which they wanted or needed him to be. Or even to act as they perceived him to be already.

That was easy and pleasant with Jim. His lover needed him as a Guide, a friend, a lover. Others often needed him as a scapegoat, a sounding board, or even as an adversary. It often made Blair feel as if more than one person lived inside his head. How many people could he be? How long before the strain of trying to just stay Blair Sandburg became too much?

He didn't know. But right now, he could feel the enemy wanting him, needing him to surrender and turn himself over to them. He could feel the needs of his body. Food. Water. Rest. Medical attention. He could also feel the needs of his lover. His Sentinel. Escape. Fight. Freedom.

And it was all his fault.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Night was falling and Jim was getting jumpy. Blair didn't have to ask why. He knew why. He could feel the minds of the agents out there. He knew that Jim could hear them. They were being surrounded. Slowly but surely, they were being herded. Towards what, he didn't know.

On top of all of that, they were both exhausted and starving. They had managed to gather some berries during their trek, but it wasn't anywhere near enough. They needed sleep and medicine. Blair's ribs sent lightening bolts of pain through him and his knee was swollen painfully in his jeans.

Jim wasn't much better. He kept rubbing at a huge bruise covered lump on the back of his head and he swayed alarmingly with each forced step. Blair knew that they couldn't go on much longer. He also knew that to stop was to invite capture. His mind was swathed in cotton and he couldn't figure out a solution to the dilemma.

With a strangled cry, Blair fell to the ground as his knee finally gave out. Clutching in pain at the offended limb, he watched as Jim staggered to a stop and turned around. His face was haggard and drawn with pain and exhaustion. He didn't say anything, he just slowly made his way over and collapsed beside Blair.

"Here babe. Drink some water."

With shaky hands, Jim pulled the plastic bottle out of the pack and unscrewed the cap. Holding it gently up to Blair's lips, he poured in a small mouthful. Swallowing the clear liquid gratefully, Blair wished once again that they had some aspirin or something.

Putting the bottle away, Jim glanced around. Spying a big pine tree with wide, overhanging lower branches, he pointed to it.

"There. We can crawl under the branches and rest for a while. If someone walks past here, they won't see us. If we are quiet and they aren't using a heat scope, we should be undetected."

"Okay. Let's do it, 'cause I'll be honest with you Jim. I don't think I can go any farther."

Jim didn't say anything, he just nodded. Together, they helped each other stand and slowly, with much hissing and a few hushed moans, they made it over to the ancient tree. Getting down and crawling under the ground sweeping boughs, Blair was pleased to find a warm and dry hollow against the trunk. There was even a thick bed of pine needles.

The two men wiggled around slightly until they were tucked firmly against one another in the small space. Despite the pain and hunger they both suffered, Jim and Blair soon fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Blair was awaken by a sharp cry of pain and the sudden jerking away of Jim's body from his. His mind was flooded by his lover's flare of panic and confusion. In the pitch black of the night, Blair was forced to use his hands and deepen the empathic link between them.

"What? Jim! What is it?"

Blairs voice was an urgent hush.

"My ears. Blair, my ears."

"What about them? Tell me?"

"I don't know. There was this strange popping sound that I could actually *feel* against my eardrums and now all I'm getting is a static hiss and strange echoes everywhere."

"Shhhh... It's okay, dial back. Turn it down to normal."

Blair could feel Jim's concentration through the link and he knew when the pain had subsided. Quickly running through his memory, Blair easily recalled why that description sounded familiar.

"Jim. I think they are using a white noise generator, but on, like some *grande* scale here. You know. To try and disrupt your Sentinel hearing. I mean, we've been dodging the agents all day, even tired and injured. Well, I think that this is their way of leveling the playing field, you know. I'm blind and you are deaf."

Blair could feel Jim's agreement with his theory. It was a frightening thought, but at least they had warning that an attack was coming. The agents didn't know that by turning on the white noise generators that they would be sounding charge to Jim's sensitive hearing. That was one thing in their favor at least.

"Now what?"

"Well Chief, we can stay here and hope they can't find us, or we can go out and try to sneak past them in the dark and leave them beating the bushes here."

"Neither choice seems very good to..."

Blair trailed off his whisper for a moment, his eyes going strangely unfocused.

"Shit Jim. I can feel them coming up the trail. I think they've got night goggles man!"

"Shhhh..."

They both got very still and tried to make as little noise as possible. A twig snapped somewhere in the black night. Without warning and volley of bullets sprayed into the branches of the tree they were huddled under. Blair could feel his body tremble and shake. Just as suddenly as it started, the rain of bullets stopped.

"Run!"

Half dashing out under his own power, half being dragged by Jim, Blair staggered and stumbled to his feet and then ran like mad, one hand clutching at the back of Jim's shirt. He was, for all intents and purposes, blind out here. What tiny light the moon might have shed was lost on him under the heavy canopy of the trees. If he lost contact with his lover, he would be effectively lost.

They ran. It was a mad, nightmare dash past looming black shapes in a black void. Blair could feel the edges of panic and desperation coming from Jim and it merely served to feed his own. Bullets whipped past them, striking trees and dirt and Blair lost all sense of direction quickly in the crazy scramble. He was more certain than ever that they were being herded, but to what?

Suddenly, his foot came down on a patch of ground that gave way under him. His already injured knee gave a gut churning wrench and Blair was free-falling through space. Blair slammed into a tree hard enough to shower sparks before his eyes and then he collapsed. Tumbling down an embankment, he crashed through a thorny bush and then landed in a broken heap.

More gun fire echoed through the forest and the sounds of shouted calls from strange voices came from every direction. The only thing that kept Blair from slipping into unconsciousness was his empathic link to Jim. Using all of the hard earned control and mental discipline he had, Blair opened his empathic abilities to their fullest and then focused entirely on his lover.

With the link opened wide, Blair could feel *all* of Jim's emotions and *hear* his thoughts as clearly as if they were being spoken to him. It seemed as if he had taken up residence inside his lover's mind.

Fear. Heartbreaking fear for Blair.

Anger. Overwhelmingly black anger.

Blood thirsty vengeance.

Pain. Senses spiking. Confusion.

Open space. High up. No cover. Panic.

Ambush.

Blair was suddenly bombarded with images and sensations of a violent fist-fight. It was brutal and ugly. It was to the death.

PANIC! DENIAL! FREE-FALLING!

"no... jim nononononono..."

*PAIN!*

Agony unlike anything he had ever experienced ripped through Blair's body like a white hot knife. His body convulsed with it and he let out a strangled whimper. Waves of sorrow and regret surged through his link with Jim, followed by a brilliant flash of love. Then the pain rushed back and Blair was left gasping. Suddenly, as if someone had turned off the switch, Blair's empathic link with Jim was violently severed.

"no jim no..."

A single tear escaped down Blairs dirt streaked face and then he slipped into oblivion.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The sound of birds chirping in the tree beside him pulled him into wakefulness. Wearily raising his head, Blair Sandburg looked around at the beautiful forest and knew he was in Hell. Jim was gone. Dead. And it was all his fault. The link was broken. Emptiness his only reward.

Many silent voices clambered for attention inside his head. Each one wanting to make the first move, each one wanting to be the one to set forth on the path of denial or retribution. The Guide. The partner. The lover. The friend. The scapegoat. The scientist.

"no... *i'm* in charge here... me,... blair 'you fucked up big-time' sandburg."

Blair knew he was alone. That there was, in actuality, no one there, but still he heard the silent voices vying for dominance within his mind. Some small, tiny part of him recognized that Jim's death had unhinged him. That he had taken that final step from empathic into madness, but he couldn't seem to care about that.

Holding a seven way conversation with himself, Blair dragged his broken body to the tree. Using that as leverage, he pulled himself into a standing position. Brilliant pain shot through him, momentarily clearing his mind. His ribs and knee were broken. Of that he was certain. His body throbbed everywhere and a cut to his forehead still oozed a faint trickle of blood. For a brief moment, a wave of woozy dizziness washed over him.

Forcing away the pain, ignoring it as best as he could, Blair slowly hobbled up the slight slope he had fallen down last night. To distract himself from the agonizing shudders that ravaged his body, he indulged himself in a conversation with the voices. He argued with them over what the best strategy would be.

Two painful and horrifying hours passed. Suddenly, the dim coolness of the shaded forest gave way to an open area. The rocky ground was edged by a cliff. In a flash, Blair *knew* this was the place that Jim had fallen from. The place that had claimed his life.

Turning his head slightly, Blair saw a hand painted sign sponsored by the State of Colorado. It proclaimed this place to be "Lover's Leap". Blair giggled. How apropos.

With the twisted logic of the insane, Blair suddenly knew what he had to do. A Sentinel *needed* his Guide. Right? Well then, he would have to follow Jim. Even into the great beyond.

Slowly, Blair made his way to the edge. The voices in his head clamored for attention. Each voice wanted the chance to say something before they jumped. To sort of celebrate the occasion. Feeling generous to his other selves, Blair agreed.

Caught up in the spirit of ritual suicide and dealing with his own insanity, Blair didn't hear or sense the two agents sneaking up behind him.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

three months later...

General Matthews and Dr. Lewiston stood in the observation booth, watching the empath, Blair. The man in the room below paced around the parameter of the padded room with his oddly quick, limping gait. His hands were gesturing wildly around him and he was babbling to himself as usual.

Dr. Lewiston considered it a shame in a way. The man, Blair, was stunningly brilliant. A genius in every sense of the word. His scores on every intelligence test they had given him were so far off of the charts as to be frightening. Not only that, but he was a *proven* empath. Of course, he was also a self proclaimed Shaman and Guide. *That* had yet to be tested. The thing that Dr. Lewiston found to be a pity though, was that Blair was also clinically insane.

He was a source of endless fascination to the psychologists and psychiatrists here. He had seven distinct personalities, plus one extra that was not so much a separate personality, as it was a foreman. *That* personality only interacted with the other 'voices' and refused to talk with anyone who wasn't a *Blair*.

That in itself was enough to keep the head-shrinkers busy, but to top it all off, each separate personality had it's own neuroses. The one thing they had in common though, was their fixation and obsession with Jim Ellison.

Blair was currently giving himself a lecture on the proper procedure for cataloging artifacts. It would have been interesting to listen to at any other time, but right now, Dr. Lewiston was focused on the General. Personally, he hated the man, but he was the boss, so he tried to at least be polite.

"I want him to be ready for transport within an hour."

"But General, he's... insane. He doesn't *know* that Jim Ellison is still alive. All this time he has been under the impression that his lover is dead. *That's* what drove him to his madness. If he was to suddenly find the man alive, who knows what he'll do."

"Let me worry about that. I can handle him."

"General, I don't think you understand how *dangerous* that man is. Most of his personalities are harmless, yes, but one of them is homicidal. He could turn on you and kill without any warning at all."

"*Him* against trained soldiers. I think you give the man way too much credit. But in any case, it's beside the point. We spent too much money, time and effort into the Sentinel to lose him and now we can't reach him. He doesn't respond to anything or anyone. Sandburg is our last hope."

General Matthews turned and stared Dr. Lewiston directly in the eyes. He glared at the slight man and used all the command techniques to cowl a subordinate that he knew.

"Get him ready for transport Dr. That's an order."

"Yes sir."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

A few hours later...

Blair *hated* straight jackets. As soon as someone put him in one the tip of his nose would itch like crazy. Blair figured that the only reason his nose would itch, was simply because, in the straight jacket, he physically could not scratch it. He begged and pleaded and flirted with his guards in the vain hope that one of them would scratch it for him, but it was all for nothing. No one would even attempt it since the time he had bitten Dr. Randals finger hard enough to draw blood.

In retribution for not scratching his itchy nose, Blair gave his guards one of his famous lectures. It was on the mating rituals of the Ugandi Tribe. Unable to gesture with his hands to emphasize his points, he wiggled and squirmed in his canvas restraint.

Not even half-way through his lecture, Blair was brought to a huge metal door that was electronically locked with an encrypted code. Without appearing to even pay attention, Blair managed to memorize most of it. Suddenly the door was opened and he was pushed through alone.

Looking around the small room, every fiber of Blair's body came to a complete stand-still. His heart skipped a beat and he almost fainted.

JIM!!!!!!!

His lover was lying on a hospital style bed with tubes and wires running to assorted beeping and buzzing machines. He was in the grips of a major zone-out, but he was *alive!*

Blessedly, wonderfully ALIVE.

In a rush, Blair dashed across the room and rubbed his cheek up against Jim's whispering into his ear.

"Jim... Jim, follow my voice. Jimlove, please, I need you *so* badly. Come back to me love. Jim... Jim, I know you can hear me."

Blair closed his eyes and reached out with his empathy, searching for any thought or emotions from his beloved. Nothing. Not even a glimmer of awareness. The need to physically touch his Sentinel became over powering.

Stepping carefully away from the bed and all it's wires, Blair glared at the two way mirror.

"How long? How long has he been like this? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep us apart? Are you stupid or just cruel? How Long!"

Silence was his only answer. But he didn't need them to talk to him. He had spent the last three months reading his `doctors' thoughts and emotions out of sheer survival. The military men and scientists that had been studying his lover weren't used to dealing with an empath. He knew. It had been almost a week.

With a cry of rage and frustration, Blair spun and ran directly at the wall. His aim was true. With a brief flash of intense agony, Blair dislocated his left shoulder. Whimpering at the pain, he quickly shed the canvas and leather straight jacket. It wasn't a skill he liked to show off, but it was very necessary that he touch Jim. With a deep breath to prepare himself, Blair slammed his shoulder into the wall again, popping the joint back into place. A low cry escaped his lips at the flare of pain. Turning, he limped over to Jim and carefully crawled under the blankets to cover his Sentinel's body with his own. He petted and soothed, he talked himself hoarse, he gave himself a migraine trying to reach Jim empathetically. Finally, after almost an hour, Jim began to respond.

At first it was just a faint spark of awareness, then it was a few twitches in his hands. Blair could feel Jim's breathing deepen and hear the heart under his head speed up to normal. Encouraged, he doubled his efforts to reach his Sentinel.

Suddenly, Jim's mind opened up to Blair and the empathic link was forged anew. Thoughts, emotions, and memories flooded into Blair's mind.

Pain. Fear. Loneliness. Grief. Regret. Anger.

Images and memories bombarded him as he briefly lived the enslavement his lover had suffered. Jim had been told that Blair had died. He was then subjected to horrific and painful tests and experiments. He had been denied the use of some of his senses while others had been driven off of the scales. The tests had yielded amazing results, but they had been pure unadulterated torture for the ex-cop.

The man that Blair once knew had been forever changed. Blair could feel the difference in his lover's mind, and he knew that Jim was 'broken' but he himself was so far removed from what *he* once was that it didn't seem to matter.

Blair cooed and soothed and cajoled. He kept the link wide open and took everything, no matter how painful or frightening, and was grateful for it. Little by little, Jim came up out of the zone.

"chief?..."

"Yeah Jim. It's me. They lied baby. They lied."

"love you blair... love you so much..."

"I love you too Big Guy."

"have to get out of here..."

"We will Jim. We will. Now that we are together again. We will."

END
Lover's Leap