The Face of Evil

by Morgana

Fandom: The Sentinel

Pairing: Jim/Blair

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Blair and a fellow TA become the target of a group of skinheads. Set early in season 1. Warning; this story deals with racism and Blair's victimized by Neo-nazis.

Disclaimer: The Sentinel is a creation by Danny Bilson and Paul DeMeo and belongs to Paramount Pictures, Pet Fly Productions & UPN.

The Face of Evil

by Morgana

Blair hummed softly as he left his office. After a day of hard work, he was now on his way to the PD to help Jim, who was scheduled to examine a crime scene in one hour. He stopped humming, recalling how shaken he had been when he had seen pictures of the victim. A group of fanatic neo-Nazis had followed a young, Jewish man home and had beaten him to within an inch of his life.

At first, the doctors had assured them that the victim, Willy Goldstein, would live, but severe complications had eventually robbed the young man of his strength and he had died two hours ago. That made it an official homicide and Jim was determined to find the killers.

Why is Jim this determined to find the killers? Does it have something to do with me? The look Jim had given him when they had read the report had made him shiver. He could almost heard Jim's thoughts 'This could have been you, Chief.' But Jim hadn't said the words aloud, keeping them to himself like he always did.

He had been shaken badly; he had never fully realized that hate crimes like these still occurred. World War Two had happened sixty years ago, but the hideous seeds of hate had blossomed, and for the first time in his life, he realized that being Jewish made him a target as well. I'm overreacting. Not every psycho is after me! Just because Kincaid singled me out, doesn't mean others will as well. Hell, why do I keep getting myself in these messes? It was because of Jim of course. Since he had started working with the cop, trouble had followed him home.

Home was an abandoned warehouse in a district with a bad reputation, but he liked it there. He was renting it cheap, had ample space and a lot of privacy. His apartment held precious research on Sentinels and now that he had met Jim, it would also hold his information on him. Thieves never bothered to break in and rob him of his possessions and it was relatively close to Rainier.

But he hated living there on his own. The place was okay, but he missed company. Company, which Jim supplied while they were at the station. They had known each other for three weeks now and they even drank a cup of coffee at the local diner before heading home. At times, it almost felt like Jim was offering him his friendship, but then Jim would emotionally retreat again. It was a confusing situation, but he was happy with the little time he could spend with the Sentinel.

He had searched for a real Sentinel his entire life and now that he had found one, his world had been blown away. Jim needed guidance, needed to learn to control his senses and had accepted him as his teacher. Jim was a real Sentinel! Burton was right!

Reaching his Corvair, he cringed. "No, not a flat tire, not now!" He had promised Jim to be at the station on time and now... Maybe he could grab a taxi? But that cost money and it was the end of the month and he was broke... Maybe he could hitch a ride down town? "Oh, man, this sucks... big time."

"Blair? What's wrong? Oh, another flat one?" Sebastian, a fellow TA, joined him and shook his head while checking out the damage. "Do you have a spare?"

"No." Blair's shoulders slumped forward. He was never going to make it on time to the PD, but then he peeked at Sebastian, wondering if he was heading into town. Sebastian, a fair- headed young man with feline green eyes, was carrying a suitcase and wearing his coat, ready to leave Rainier.

Sebastian nodded his head, seeing the puppy dog's eyes. Blair had a habit of winding people around his little finger "Hop in, Blair. Where can I drop you off?"

"Thanks, man! You just saved my life!" Relieved, Blair grabbed his backpack, which he had dropped onto the ground. "The PD!"

Sebastian arched an eyebrow as he walked toward his own car, a blue Opel Corsa. He recalled that Blair was doing research for his thesis at the police station and wondered how the cops were treating the young anthropologist. Was Blair winding them around his little finger as well? He somehow doubted that.

"New car?" Blair whistled, impressed.

"Yeah, my old one used to break down as well. My dad financed me and I bought this one. It's a smooth ride." Sebastian opened the car door, placed his suitcase on the backseat and waited for Blair to sit down on the passenger seat.

Blair smirked, loving the luxurious interior. Compared to the Corvair everything is pure luxury! After rolling down the window, he stared outside, growing calmer. He had obtained his ride and he could worry about the Corvair later.

"Ellison! My office!"

Jim sighed dramatically, and grinned as H rolled his eyes. "Why does he have to yell?" Although his senses weren't spiking, he hated it when Banks barked his name like that. He was still trying to perfect tuning them up and down and the barking always took him by surprise. When his hearing wasn't tuned down Bank's voice hurt.

After gathering his file on the Goldstein case, he stepped into the Captain's office. He knew what this was about; Banks wanted to know if they were making progress.

"The Goldstein kid died, Jim. We need to arrest these Neo-Nazis. The Mayor is extremely concerned about this development; it's bad publicity for the city."

"I know that, sir. Hopefully, I'll find some evidence when going over the crime scene later today. Sandburg should be here any moment now..." Jim's voice trailed off, seeing Simon's expression. "Sir?"

"How's the kid coping with this? Isn't he Jewish?"

"He threw up when he saw the pictures, but Blair will hang in there. He's tougher than he looks. I never thought I'd ever say that, but he's really been a great help."

"With the senses thing?" Simon leaned back in his chair and studied his detective. Jim might not know it, but he had changed since he started working with Sandburg. Most other officers hated being around Ellison, but Jim was easier to get along with since Sandburg had appeared.

"Yeah, he has all these weird theories and the amazing thing is they work." Using the dial had been Blair's idea. "He grows on you, doesn't he?"

Simon repressed his grin. And he grew on you as well, Jim. Only a few weeks ago you were a grumpy bastard and now you're sitting in my office smiling! "Let me know if you find any new leads, Jim."

"Yes, sir." Jim nodded his head once and turned to leave the office when Simon's phone rang.

"Banks..." Simon was in the middle of sipping his coffee and almost spat the liquid all over his desk. Swallowing fast, he looked up. "Jim, stay. We've got another victim."

Jim closed the door again and stepped back up to Simon's desk. The Captain continued to listen for another minute and then put down the phone. "A twenty-five year old Caucasian male was attacked when he was picking up some stuff at the grocery store." Simon got to his feet, grabbed his coat and signaled Jim to follow him. "The paramedics are still working on him. Damn it, Jim, we need to get this scum off the streets!"

"We'll find them," Jim promised. "Do we have an ID on the victim?"

"Name's..." Simon searched his notes, which he had made during the phone call. "His name is Sebastian Mayer. We've got eyewitnesses this time," Simon informed him as they left the bullpen. "The perps consisted of a group of eight Caucasian males. Their heads were shaven and they were wearing military outfits. They harassed the victim once he left the car and started beating him while calling obscenities. They called him a faggot and were screaming 'Sieg Heil'. They knew his name and habits. This was premeditated."

They had reached the parking lot and Jim slipped onto the passenger seat in Simon's car. "You mentioned eyewitnesses?" Would they testify in court?

Simon keyed the ignition and left the parking lot with screeching tires. "An old man and a pregnant woman, who were too scared to intervene."

Jim nodded his head, processing the new data. If only Sandburg were here already. Checking his watch, he found that Blair would arrive in thirty minutes, provided the anthropologist was on time. Simon's right. The kid's growing on me. He's given me back my life and my sanity. I was really worried that I was heading for the psychiatric ward before he showed up. He's proven his worth these few weeks; even kept his cool when Kincaid dragged him along.

Sirens caught his attention. Another patrol car joined the first at the crime scene and the ambulance was still there as well. Were they still working on stabilizing the victim?

Simon parked the car while muttering beneath his breath. Hate crimes always got his special attention. No matter why one particular group was targeted, he took it personal. "Jim, I know Sandburg isn't here, but use those senses to get us some leads."

"I'll start with checking on the victim." Hopefully, Mayer was conscious and capable of giving him some useful information, but considering the paramedics were still working on him...

An erratic heartbeat reached his ears and made him hurry. Stepping up to the paramedics, he managed to catch a glance of the victim. Blond hair was smeared with blood and bruises were forming beneath the skin. The face was a complete mess; apparently, the perps had used a knife to cut open the skin. Jim exchanged a glance with Mandy, one of the paramedics he usually ran into at crime scenes.

"He's bleeding internally," Mandy whispered, looking Jim in the eyes. Shaking her head, she tried to tell him that she didn't think he was going to make it. But the man was still conscious and his eyes frantically searched his surroundings.

Using his senses to check on Mayer, Jim had to agree with Mandy; the victim was dying.

Suddenly Sebastian's eyes widened. "You..."

Jim moved closer as Mandy stepped aside to let him talk to the victim. "Sir, what can you tell us about your attackers?" He hated pressuring the injured man, but Mayer seemed eager to tell him something. Sitting on his heels, he tried to maintain eye contact.

"Y'r Elson..." The oxygen mask that covered his nose and mouth made his words sound muffled.

But Jim heard them nonetheless. "Yes, my name's Ellison." Did he know Mayer? No, he was certain that he had never seen the man before.

"B...lair..." Sebastian jerked and blood dripped from his lips and into the oxygen mask.

"Blair?" Suddenly alarmed, Jim leaned in closer. "What about Blair?" Was Mayer a friend of Blair's? Maybe they knew each other through University?

"B... lair... was... witme..." Sebastian coughed up even more blood.

Mandy gave Jim a warning glance. They had to move Sebastian to Cascade General Hospital right now; they were running out of time.

"Check... on... Bl..." Sebastian's head lolled to the right and he lost consciousness.

Jim stared at the injured man and made way for Mandy and her colleague so they could transport Sebastian to the ambulance. Turning about, he quickly located Simon. His heart was pounding, realizing Blair could be in grave danger. Sebastian Mayer had no reason to lie to him.

"Jim?" Simon frowned, seeing the frantic expression on Jim's face.

"I need to check on Sandburg. Our victim knows him and claims Blair was with him when they were attacked."

"Aren't you overreacting, Jim?" Simon had just finished talking to their eyewitnesses. "No one saw Sandburg being attacked. Both witnesses report only Mayer was beaten up."

"I still want to check on him." Jim reached for his cell phone. First, he would call Blair's office at Rainier and then... Damn it, he didn't even know where Sandburg lived! "Mayer has no reason to make this up, sir."

"Make it quick, Ellison. We've got work to do." Simon concentrated on the report the black and white was giving him and turned away from Jim. Shaking his head, he once more marveled at the change in his detective. I've never seen him this worried before. Let's hope the kid's okay.

Jim first phoned Rainier, but the secretary told him that Blair had left the grounds about two hours ago. "Blair had a flat tire... that Corvair's going to cost him his last dime..."

Jim felt slightly relieved. "Thank you for your time," he said, about to end the conversation.

"Mister Ellison? I recall that Blair got a lift from Sebastian... Sebastian Mayer. He's a TA in the History department and..."

Jim froze after hearing the name. "Sebastian Mayer? Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," she said, a bit indignantly. "They left together."

Jim terminated the call and marched over to Simon. "Sir, we've got a problem."

"What?" Simon turned about and wanted to reprimand his detective for interrupting him, when he noticed the upset expression in Jim's eyes.

"Sandburg was seen leaving the campus in Mayer's car. Our victim was telling the truth; Blair was with him." He was losing his patience. He had to check on Sandburg, make sure the younger man was all right.

Seeing Jim's impatience, Simon gave in. "Do we have an address on Sandburg?"

"I hoped you had one." Jim gritted his teeth. Sandburg had been working with him for four weeks now and he didn't even know where the anthropologist lived! Why hadn't he asked? He was nearly crushing his cell phone and quickly slipped it back into his pocket.

"I'll find out." Simon got back on the phone, this time trying to locate Sandburg's registered address. "Jim, wait!"

Jim was already marching over to Simon's car. Yes, Simon had left the key in the ignition and he slipped behind the wheel. His cell phone chirped and he quickly answered the call, hoping it was Sandburg. "Chief, is that you?" The line remained quiet and his heart missed a beat, knowing it was Blair. The younger man's heart was racing, but he would recognize that heartbeat in a crowd of millions. "Blair?"

"J-jim-m?"

Jim sighed, relieved. Blair had called him and the younger man was still capable of speech. He can't be injured that badly! "Blair? We found Sebastian... Where are you?" Irritated, he glared at Simon as the older man sat down on the passenger seat.

"I've got an address." Simon slipped Jim a piece of paper.

"The warehouse district? You've got to be kidding me!" Jim keyed the ignition and turned left. "Chief, are you still with me?"

"You've got Sandburg on the phone?" Simon called in their new destination.

Jim ignored his superior and concentrated on Blair. "Where are you, Chief?"

"At-t h-home..."

Blair's stutter worried him. "Chief, are you all right? We're gonna be at your place in five." He exchanged a worried glance with his Captain. "Blair, talk to me. What's going on?"

"Se...b-bastian?"

"He's on his way to Cascade General. He told me you were with him when he was attacked. Chief, are you hurt?" Blair's heart sped up, and he promptly reacted by reassuring his partner. "Blair? Do you need an ambulance?"

"No... b-but I n-need t-to go t-to... the hos...pital..."

"Chief, how badly injured are you?" Jim pulled up to the warehouse, put the car into park and jumped out of the car, quickly followed by Simon. "Fuck..." Staring at the front door, he cursed angrily. A large swastika had been spray-painted on the door, accompanied by the line, 'Faggot, you should be put in the gas chamber', and 'Hitler was right."

Simon halted in his tracks, staring at the display in disbelief. "People never learn..."

Jim kicked in the door, not bothering asking Sandburg to open it. He raced upstairs, using his senses to guide him. "I smell blood, Simon... Sandburg's blood."

"Want me to call an ambulance?"

"No, not yet. I want to talk to him and examine him personally." Jim scanned his surroundings. "Bedroom," he told Simon.

Simon stayed a few steps behind Jim, giving his detective some space. He watched as Jim came to a stop to knock on the door.

"Chief? I'm coming inside." Blair's heartbeat tuned out all other noises and Jim shook his head. Use the dial! After working on regaining his calm, he managed to turn his hearing down. After pushing down the door handle, he slowly stepped inside, giving Blair the time he needed to grow accustomed to his presence.

It was dark and he used his heightened sense of vision to locate the light switch. "Is it okay to switch on the light, Chief?" Blair was emitting soft sounds of pain and the stench of fear drenched sweat nearly made him zone out. "Simon, stay there. Chief, I'm switching on the light, okay?"

"Jim... is...that you?"

Thank God, he sounds better than when we talked on the phone. "Yeah, it's me, Blair." His fingers found the light switch, and a bright, white light illuminated the bedroom. Oh, shit... no. Blair sat in the center of the bed, blankets tightly wrapped around him. His long hair hid his face, but not even the blankets could hide the tremors that rocked the younger man's body.

"Jim? Thanks... for coming..." Blair didn't look up and pulled the blanket closer to his form. He moved slowly, ignoring the pain that shot through his body.

"Chief, let me help..." Jim moved quickly and wrapped one arm around his partner's waist. He didn't pull back when Blair flinched. "Where are you hurting, Chief? I smell blood on you..."

"I'm... fine, Jim... I'll survive..." Blair did his best to stay on his feet, but his knees buckled, and without Jim's support, he would have taken an ugly fall.

"You're not fine, Chief!" He tried to catch Blair's eyes, but the blue orbs remained evasive, hidden behind long locks. "Blair, what happened?"

"They... they attacked the car... I just left the grocery store and saw what was happening." His heart sped up and cold sweat erupted from his pores. "I shouted at them to leave Sebastian alone... and I ran... hoping they'd follow."

"And they did," Jim whispered, supporting Blair as they made their way into the living room area. He was tempted to sit Blair down on the couch so the younger man could catch his breath, but it was imperative that he got his partner to the hospital.

"Jim? Can I help? I already called dispatch and they're sending a black and white and Forensics to check the front door for evidence."

"Simon, I need to get him to Cascade General." Blair shrunk beside him and concerned, he gently rubbed Blair's upper arm. "You're gonna be just fine, Chief, believe me."

Blair didn't react to their words. He was busy fighting the pain that almost made him pass out. "I saw them, Jim... saw their faces... I can identify them... how's Sebastian? I need to see Sebastian... he's Jewish, yes, but he isn't gay... why did they do that? Why beat him up? Why follow me home?"
Jim bit his bottom lip, listening to Blair's raving. "You're going into shock, Chief. We need to speed this up." Blair was limping and slowing them down. Jim slipped his hands beneath Blair's knees and back and lifted him.

"Hey, put me down!" Indignantly, Blair finally looked up at him.

Jim's breath caught, as Blair's locks fell away from the younger man's face, revealing... A swastika! They carved a swastika onto his forehead! Bastards! Does he know what they did to him? Is that why he refused to look at me?

"Jim?" Blair wiped away the dried blood that clung to his eyelashes. "What's wrong?" Quickly, he let his hair fall in front of his face, praying Jim hadn't seen the damage done to him. "Don't look at me like that!" Had he been stronger and steadier he would have broken away from Jim, but he lacked the necessary strength.

He knows, shit, he knows! Jim stared ahead, ignored Simon who was following him and tightly held on to Blair. The bastards are going to pay for what they did to him!

"Jim, listen to me! Detective.... Damn it, Ellison." Simon finally caught up with Jim at the car. "Here, you'll need the keys." He got a good look at Blair and frowned; the kid had lost consciousness.

Jim gently deposited Blair on to the passenger seat and buckled him up. "He passed out," he realized, surprised.

"Jim, how bad is he?" Simon decided to stay there and guard the crime scene until the patrol car arrived. "He looks bad."

Clenching his teeth, Jim gently pushed back some auburn locks. "They're gonna pay for what they did to him..."

Simon hissed in surprise, seeing the swastika cut into Blair's bloody forehead. "Of all the hideous things I've seen this is the worst. Does Blair know?"

"I think so. He was desperately keeping his hair in front of his face." Jim sat down behind the steering wheel and briefly stared ahead. "I can't believe someone did this to him, Simon..." Looking up, his eyes were drawn toward the front door. "Have that removed once Forensics is through with it? I don't want it to stare him in the face when he's released."

"Sure, Jim...I'll catch up with you at Cascade General." Simon stepped away as Jim set the car into motion. A swastika... they had carved a swastika onto Blair's forehead! "I hope the kid's strong enough to deal with this..." He shuddered, turned around and looked at the obscenities on the door. They were going to catch the scum who had done this to Sandburg. No one messed with his men!

Jim paced the waiting area. His senses were focused on Sandburg and the physician that was treating him. He had eavesdropped, needing to know how badly his partner was injured. In the end, he felt relieved, learning that Blair's only severe injuries were a dislocated shoulder and a sprained ankle. Although the bruising had to be spectacular, judging by the physician's gasps and remarks, Blair was in no immediate danger.

What about the swastika? My God, what did this do to him? I knew he's Jewish, but... how can anyone do this to him? Millions died in the Holocaust, most of them Jews and... A swastika!

"Jim?" Simon got worried, seeing the anger in his detective's eyes. "How's Sandburg?" The glare, which Jim shot his way made him feel relieved that he wasn't the one who had hurt the kid.

"He has a dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle, sports a lot of bruising and is in shock." Jim managed to fight down his rage. He needed his wits about him if he wanted to catch those bastards... and Blair needed him to pull him through. "The doctor will be joining us in a few minutes; he's wrapping up the paperwork."

Simon shook his head. "You've already given me the update I need. What did the doctor say? Does Sandburg have to stay the night?"

"Why don't we ask him?" Jim studied the elderly man that approached them. Doctor Jenkins had treated his injuries in the past and they had developed a grudging respect for each other.

"Ellison... it's a change to see you in one piece..." Jenkins smiled, warmly. "So what's the story on this young man?"

"His name's Blair Sandburg." Jim had given the nurse Blair's ID and insurance number after searching his partner's backpack. "He's an observer with the PD and my partner."

"He's a very lucky guy... He might not see it that way when he wakes up, but it could have been a lot worse. His right shoulder is dislocated and his stomach, back and shoulders are badly bruised. His right ankle is sprained. No internal injuries, though."

"What about the..." Jim licked his lips, nervously. "The swastika on his forehead?"

Jenkins' expression darkened. "We disinfected and bandaged it. I've never seen anything like it before. My grandmother died in a concentration camp, in Auschwitz-Birkenau."

"Can it be removed or...?" Jim held his breath and caught the trepidation in Jenkins' eyes.

Simon moved closer toward him and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in an expression of concern. He appreciated the gesture, but continued to stare at Jenkins.

"In time. The skin tissue needs to heal first. In a few weeks time he should see a plastic surgeon who can replace the damaged skin using skin tissue from his leg." Jenkins drew in a deep breath. "Don't underestimate the psychological impact this will have on Blair."

"I won't," Jim promised. "Are you keeping him overnight or can I take him home?"

"He's still in shock, Jim... Does he live alone or does he have a roommate?"

"He lives alone, but won't be alone. I'll stay with him. I was a..."

"A medic in the army, you already told me," Jenkins said, smiling. "I want to keep him here for another hour... we need to finish some tests, but he can go home once we're done. I'll write him a prescription for pain pills, which will also put him to sleep. Make sure he stays off his feet and rests."

"I will." Jim watched Doctor Jenkins leave and then turned to face Simon. "Sir, I need some time off."

"Jim, I can't do that! We need to nail these bastards! Jim, I need you to go over the crime scene!"

"We got eyewitnesses, Simon, and I will go over the crime scene, but first I need to take care of Sandburg. He's alone and I can't send him back to that... that place he calls home. It's one of the worst districts of Cascade and they know where he lives! They followed him home. What if they come back to finish the job?"

"You're taking him to the loft?" Jim was his best detective and he wanted him on the case, but Jim wouldn't be any good if he constantly worried about Sandburg.

"Yeah, no one will search for him at the loft and I can take care of him there. He'll need help the next few days."

"Take him home once the doctor gives his okay..." Simon said eventually. "I'll call you in the morning and let you know what we've got. Do you need my help or...?"

"Thanks, Simon, I really appreciate it, but I can get him home by myself. I know you're needed at the station. Just catch these bastards." Catch them before I do, because I'll rip them apart!

Reading the silent warning in Jim's eyes, Simon nodded his head. "I want them as badly as you do, Jim." After squeezing Jim's shoulder one last time, he turned and left the waiting area. Hopefully, the eyewitnesses' descriptions would help them identify the perpetrators.

Jim took up pacing again while listening to Blair's calm and regular heartbeat.

"Jim, you can see Blair now." Doctor Jenkins smiled; Jim was still pacing the waiting area one hour later. "You can take him home after I sign the release forms and make sure you fill his prescriptions before you leave."

"Thanks." Jim collected his coat and followed Doctor Jenkins to Blair's room. During the last hour he had done some serious thinking. Blair was definitely a trouble magnet and maybe it would be best if he reduced the risks Blair was exposed to. Like living in a warehouse, for crying out loud! I won't sleep peacefully, knowing his home is located in such a dangerous area.

Realizing just how worried he was about Blair had been a revelation. He always kept a close eye on Blair when the younger man was around, but what about the times when he wasn't near? There had to be some kind of solution.

"He's still slightly sedated, Jim. We'll wheel him out of here when you're ready." Jenkins left the room to finish the paperwork.

"Hey, Darwin." Jim walked toward the bed, studying Blair's bruised face. The eyes were closed, but his senses told him that the younger man was awake. "Blair?" He raised his right hand and rested it on his partner's arm. A bandage hid the ugly swastika and he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. Feeling extremely protective of Blair, he vowed to do his best to make sure nothing like this would ever happen to his partner ever again, even if that meant keeping Blair close twenty-four hours a day.

Blair finally opened his eyes and Jim cringed- exploded blood vessels colored the white and had turned it red. "Hey, buddy, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay..." Blair tried to pop himself up on his elbows and Jim acted quickly, assisting him. "How's Sebastian?"

Blair's usually sparkling eyes were dull and lifeless. He took hold of his partner's hand and rubbed the skin, trying to reassure them both that everything was okay. Since Blair had entered his life he had become a very tactile person, touching the younger man all the time. "Sebastian's in intensive care." Blair deserved the entire truth, so he added, "They aren't sure he'll pull through. They can't stop the internal bleeding."

Hiding behind his long locks, Blair closed his eyes. "Maybe I should have stayed and helped him fight them off. I had hoped they'd leave him alone and follow me, but they didn't."

Jim frowned, hearing the guilt in Blair's voice. He had only known Blair for a few weeks, but had long realized that he tended to blame himself, even for 'mistakes' that he had never made. They would find the underlying cause later; his first priority was getting Blair home. "Hey, you're not to blame, buddy. You did what you thought was right and we'll find the scumbags who did this to you and Sebastian."

Blair finally looked up and peeked at him from behind his hair. "What's gonna happen next? Can I go... home or do I have to stay?"

Jim heard the tremor that rocked Blair's voice when he said the word 'home'. Did Blair expect to be dropped off at the apartment? No way in hell would he take Blair there! "Doctor Jenkins is letting you go, but there's a condition..." Seeing Blair's upset expression, he quickly continued. "He doesn't want you to be alone and I concur. Your arm's in a sling and you sprained your ankle."

"But Jim! I don't need a babysitter. Come on, man, just take me..."

"Home?" Jim shook his head. "You taught me to read your vital signs, Chief, and every time you mention your place your heartbeat skyrockets. I'm not taking you back to that warehouse."

"But Jim... where else should I stay? Naomi isn't around and..." Blair averted his eyes, knowing damn well that Jim was right. The shoulder and ankle rendered him immobile and he didn't want to be alone. If he were honest, he wanted to stay close to Jim. "Thanks for coming to get me... I didn't dare leave on my own... I was scared they were waiting for me to come out again."

"Chief, what happened? Are you up to giving a statement?" Squeezing Blair's hand gently, he wondered about his need to touch the younger man.

"I exited the grocery store, saw them beating up Sebastian and ran away from the car, hoping they'd follow." Blair's breath came in short spurts as his memories became too real. "They caught up with me and... That’s when this happened." Blair reluctantly pointed to his brow. "It hurt like hell... After kicking and punching me, one of them drew a knife and... cut into my forehead..."

Enraged, Jim hoped they would catch these bastards soon. "Go on, Chief."

"I don't remember what happened next, exactly... I think someone walked up to them and they released me long enough for me to get to my feet and run home. Yeah... two men walked up to them, telling them to stop..."

Jim held his breath, this meant there were even more eyewitnesses! "Can you describe these two men for me?"

"No," Blair whispered in a tiny tone. "I didn't pay them much attention. I had a head start and managed to reach the warehouse. I locked myself up and hid in the bedroom. I heard them trying to kick in the door; maybe they were stopped... They never made it upstairs." Exhausted, Blair sighed. Man, he really didn't want to go back there...

He probably doesn't know they spray painted the front door and there's no reason to tell him now. It would only upset him further. He helped Blair push back the blankets and watched him cringe as he tried to move his right foot. "Let me adjust the sling, Chief."

"Don't fuss over me, man, I can do this!"

He immediately backed off. "Sure, Chief."

"I'm sorry..." Blair apologized. "I'm not angry with you, it's..."

"You don't have anyone else to be angry with." Jim nodded his head; Blair was pissed off at the skinheads, but couldn't take it out on them and he was the next best thing.

Blair only wore a medical gown and was shivering. Jim searched the room for Blair's clothes, but couldn't find them. "Want me to get you some sweats from home?"

"No, man, I just want to leave this place..." Awkwardly, he reached out with one arm and wrapped a blanket around his body.

"I'll get the wheelchair..."

"Forget about it, I don't need one..." Blair stared at the floor, angry with himself. Running away had been the wrong decision and now Sebastian was in intensive care. Why couldn't he get anything right?

Jim had a pretty good idea of what was going on in Blair's head and he chose to keep quiet for now. Back at the loft they would have some privacy and he planned to talk to Blair about this. When he stepped into the corridor to get the wheelchair, he found that Doctor Jenkins was already heading his way, pushing one on front of him.

"I finished the paperwork and here are Blair's prescriptions, I already got them filled."

Jim slipped the little package into his pocket. "Thanks."

"How's he doing?"

Jim took over pushing the wheelchair and shrugged his shoulders. "He seems angry."

"Angry is better than scared," Jenkins pointed out. "I want to see him in four days. I already scheduled his next appointment."

Jim accepted the piece of paper that held the date and time of Blair's appointment. "I'll make sure he shows up."

"He might want to talk to a councilor about what happened. We have some excellent psychologists at Cascade General."

"I'll talk to him about it." He pushed the wheelchair into Blair's room and his breath caught, seeing the younger man precariously sway on his feet. "Damn it, Chief, I told you to wait for the wheelchair!"

"Then hurry up!"

Blair's angry expression told him to act instead of talk. After helping Blair sit down, he made sure the blanket was tightly wrapped around him. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," Blair growled, softly. Doctor Jenkins was staring at him and he flinched under the stare.

"Blair? I want to see you in four days. In the meantime, you're going to rest and stay off your feet. Keep the sling on and try not to roll onto your stomach during the night. Is there anything you want to ask me?"

Blair met Jenkins' glance. "Can it be removed?"

Jim drew in a deep breath. "Chief..."

"No, I want to hear it!" Blair ignored Jim and concentrated on Jenkins. "Can it be removed?"

"The swastika can be removed," Jenkins said, reassuringly. "I'll contact a friend of mine. Doctor Davis is a fine plastic surgeon. He'll set up an appointment with you."

Both men noticed the relief in Blair's eyes. Jim however, also saw the burning rage. "Chief, let's go."

"Jim, you took the wrong turn." Although the pain medication was slightly messing with his head, he still knew the way home and this wasn't it.

"No, I didn't. You're staying where I can keep an eye on you..."

"And that would be?"

"The loft." Jim glanced at Blair, buckled up in the passenger seat, looking miserable. His long hair constantly hid Blair's features and his partner was supporting his injured arm.

"Don't do this to me, man. I can take care of myself. Take me home."

Blair's pitiful tone took Jim aback. "You're in no condition to..." Suddenly, he realized what he was doing. He was taking away Blair's ability to make his own choices and after what had happened to him, he needed to be in control.

"If that's what you want, Chief." Jim turned the car around and headed for the warehouse district. Blair's heartbeat sped up and concerned, he tried to catch his companion's glance. You didn't think I would do it... Now you've got to make up your mind.

Blair fidgeted with the blanket. "Maybe we can pick up some of my stuff and then..."

"Then what?" He was careful not to make the same mistake twice. "You're always welcome to stay at the loft."

Blair hissed when he shrugged, immediately regretting that move. His shoulder still hurt badly. "I don't want to invade your home, man."

He's scared of being a burden... Jim sighed. "Chief, I'd love to have you stay at the loft, honestly." Blair managed a tiny smile that lit up his face. "Really, Blair, you're welcome."

"Thanks, man... but I still want to pick up some stuff."

"But you're gonna stay in the car. Tell me what you need and I'll collect the stuff." Jim used his heightened vision to search out the front door to Blair's apartment. Damn it, the writing was still there. "Why don't I take you to the loft first and after you're settled in I'll get your stuff?" He pulled the car to the side. "Trust me on this one, Chief."

Blair's eyes widened. "What's wrong?" Jim was hiding something...

"They spray painted your door and the writing is still there..." He didn't know whether Blair knew what the writing said and wasn't taking any changes.

"I want to see it," Blair said, firmly.

"Chief, I don't think..." But he reconsidered his answer. "Stay close to me, okay?" If Blair felt like he had to do this, he would support his partner.

A few minutes later they arrived at the warehouse and Blair hesitantly sought out the writing on the door. His breath grew rapid- and suddenly, he was fighting a panic attack. "I can't... believe.... they did that!" Faggot... did they judge me on my appearance or do they know I'm bi? How? No one was following me around. I would have noticed it... Looking away, he tried to banish the writing from his mind. Why had he looked in the first place?

"Can we go now?" Jim hated seeing Blair this distressed. "You can make a list and I'll pick up your things later."

"Okay," Blair whispered, upset. He closed his eyes and curled up in the seat, trying to lock out the memories. "They know where I live..."

"That's another reason why I don't want you to stay here. You'll be comfortable at the loft, Chief."

"Any leads on these guys?" Thankfully, Jim was steering away from the warehouse and he didn't look back. It hurt so bad, knowing people hated him because of his sexual preference and his religion. He wasn't even a practicing Jew! Yeah, he celebrated Hanukah, kind of, but that was it!

"We have some eyewitnesses and hopefully we'll find these two men who stopped them." He had called Simon from the hospital and his captain had promised to investigate the matter. Glancing at Blair, he realized he had no idea how to handle this. How could he help Blair deal with the trauma? And the worst thing was the swastika on his brow. Now hidden beneath the bandage, but what would happen once the bandage was removed?

He helped Blair enter the building and walked him to the elevator, which was fortunately working today. Blair was unsteady on his feet and he stayed alert, ready to catch his partner should he fall. Blair's eyes were closing and he folded an arm around the younger man's waist. "Only a few more steps."

Blair sleepily nodded his head. "Thanks for letting me stay, man."

Jim opened the front door and steered Blair toward one of the couches. "Sit down, Chief." Blair collapsed on the couch and shivered. "Cold?"

"A bit... but I'm okay... Don't worry about it."

Blair was determined not to be a burden and he understood to a certain degree, but Blair was entitled to be fussed over after what had happened to him. "You'd be way more comfortable in bed."

"No way, man. That's your bed! I can sleep here on the couch." Stubbornly, Blair continued to avoid Jim's eyes.

"Blair..."

"Think about it, man! What if I have to go to the bathroom? What if I stumble down those stairs and fall? I'd better sleep on the couch."

Jim sighed. Blair made sense, but he felt manipulated. "Okay, Chief, I'll get you some blankets and pillows and then you'll take your medication." Another pain pill would knock Blair out and he wanted him resting comfortably before administering the meds. His hands itched to help his partner lie down, but the look on Blair's face told him to keep his distance, so he grabbed the pillow and blankets instead.

Blair allowed him to put the pillow beneath his head and he adjusted the sling that had been slipping. Adding another pillow, he gently placed Blair's arm on it. "Don't try to move about too much, buddy." Blair remained oddly quiet when he covered the younger man with the blankets. "So tell me, what do you me to get from your apartment?"

Sleepy eyes met his and yet he couldn't shake off the feeling that Blair was feeling very alert. Maybe he should suggest calling someone so Blair wouldn't be alone? He bit the tip of his tongue, knowing Blair didn't want to be babied liked that so he kept quiet.

"My laptop... some clothes... don't forget my floppy disks..." Now that he was warm and comfortable his body was shutting down and his mind refused to work properly. "My book about Sentinels... you know, the one by Burton..."

"Anything else?"

Blair's head lolled to the side. "Don't remember... too tired... sorry, man."

"It's okay, Chief, but don't go to sleep yet. You need to take your medication first." Jim collected the pills and filled a glass with water. "Here, I'll help you sit up." After struggling with the blankets, he succeeded in getting Blair in an upright position. He placed the pill in the palm of Blair's hand and waited for the younger man to put it on his tongue. Then he handed Blair the water.

"Sucks..."

"What sucks, Chief?"

"I can only use one arm..." He cringed, realizing how whiny he sounded after everything Jim had done for him. "Sorry, man."

"Chief, do me a favor?" Jim placed the now empty glass on the coffee table and caught Blair's elusive glance.

"What?" Blair leaned back into the comfort of the pillow and struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Stop apologizing?"

"I know, man, it's just..." Blair bit his bottom lip, unwilling to reveal bits of his past, but Jim had to understand. "Naomi didn't fuss over me, never, and I'm not used to... to having someone help me out."

Jim smiled warmly. "You'd better get used to it, buddy." He was gently rubbing Blair's knuckles but only now realized what he was doing. Why was it that Blair demanded to be touched, to be reassured? He didn't touch other people as often as he touched Blair. "Go to sleep, Chief, you're safe here."

"Thanks, Jim..." Blair's eyes closed and his breathing deepened.

"Out for the count," Jim quipped, amused in spite of everything. After grabbing his coat and the car keys, he locked the door behind him, making sure no one could get to his houseguest.

Staring at the writing on Sandburg's front door, he gave in to the rage that had burning beneath the surface ever since this had started. They hurt him! They hurt Blair and the way I'm reacting baffles even me.

The ring of his cell phone forced him to stop his musings. "Ellison."

"Jim, it's Simon. Listen, we found the two men that tried to help Sandburg. Rafe and H are questioning them right now. But even better, one of the witnesses recognized two perps when we showed her some pictures. Their names are Franklin Swayer and Michael Carter. They already have a criminal record and I sent some black and whites to arrest them. I also put out an APB."

Jaw firmly set, he nodded his head in approval. "There were eight of them."

"Once we have those two I'm sure they'll spit out the names of the others." Simon paused briefly and sipped his coffee. "How's Sandburg doing?"

"Angry as hell." For which he was grateful. Jenkins was right; anything was better than Blair feeling victimized. Angry was good, he could work with angry. He doubted he could handle a depressed and terrified Blair Sandburg.

"The kid's tougher than he looks," Simon opinionated.

"Yeah... he's at the loft right now. Simon, why didn't they remove the writing on his front door?"

"I'm working on it. Forensics wants to go back to Sandburg's place and check on a few things so we didn't remove it yet. Keep a close eye on the kid, Jim. Sooner or later, the world will come crashing in on him."

"Didn't know you cared, sir," Jim teased, as he scanned his surroundings. He stood in the center of Blair's living room and threw the empty duffle bag onto the couch. He had already spotted the laptop.

"Jim..." Simon's tone was uncharacteristically soft. "He grows on you, remember?"

"Sure, sir..." Jim smiled and carried the laptop to the couch, collecting Blair's floppy disks and books. "Keep me informed, Simon."

"Of course, and let us know if you need help with Sandburg. Rhonda's concerned and even Joel checks in every few hours to find out if there's news."

"You can tell them that he'll be fine. Right now he's drugged to the gills and sleeping like a baby on my couch."

"Your couch?"

"He refused to sleep upstairs..." He stepped into Blair' bedroom and collected some jeans, sweaters, socks and underwear from the drawers. Blair was still wearing his medical gown and would probably want to change into something decent when he woke up.

"Just take good care of the kid," Simon said, ending their conversation. "I'll let you know if there are new developments."

"Thanks, Simon." Jim terminated the call and slipped the cell phone back into his pocket. What else would Blair need the next few days? After searching the place he decided to pack some of Blair's herbal teas as well. He locked up behind him and returned to his car, ignoring the obscenities on the front door. After keying the ignition he headed for the grocery store- his shelves were rather empty and he hadn't counted on a houseguest. Hopefully, Blair would still be sound asleep when he got home.

He tried hard to be quiet when he made his way into the kitchen. Balancing the groceries and dropping the duffle bag to the floor, he hoped the noise wouldn't wake Blair, who was still sound asleep on the couch. After putting the food items into the fridge and cupboards, he took hold of the duffle bag again and carried it over to the kitchen table where he uncovered all items. He plugged in the laptop and placed the disks next to it.

Carrying the duffle bag, he headed for the storage room. Maybe he could make it into a temporary guest room so Blair could have some privacy. He would figure things out tomorrow.

After returning to the living room, he sat on his heels and watched Blair sleep. His partner was still on his back and the pillow supported his injured arm. He raised his right hand and let his fingers gently stroke the long locks, pushing the hair away from Blair's face. The bruising was getting worse and he stared at the bandage hiding the ugly reminder of Blair's run in with the skinheads.

Jim tore himself away from his sleeping partner and checked the locks. Standing in front of the window, he looked at the stairs, wondering why he felt so hesitant to go to bed. I want to stay close to Blair...

Fondly, he smiled, recalling slamming Blair into the wall at his office. Blair had managed to get beneath his skin with a few comments and he had wanted to shake the younger man, make him understand that he wasn't a lab rat to experiment on. And a few minutes later he saved my life by pushing me beneath that garbage truck.

Slowly, postponing the inevitable, he moved toward the stairs and climbed them. He slipped out of his clothes, but kept on the boxers and put on a clean shirt. Slipping beneath the covers, he honed in on Blair's vital signs.You're safe here... I'll keep you safe. While listening to Blair's regular breathing, he fell asleep as well.

Jim opened his eyes, stretched and immediately grew aware of the soft snoring coming from downstairs. It was nine in the morning and Blair had slept through the night without a single nightmare. Those pain pills had really knocked him out!

Pleased, Jim put on a bathrobe and made his way downstairs. First, he would fix breakfast and then take a shower... and help Blair take one as well. Tiptoeing, he picked up his cell phone and made his way into the kitchen. He wanted to check with Simon before Blair woke up.

"Banks..."

"Simon, it's me, Jim."

"I was about to call you, Jim. Is there any chance you can come in? I really need you at the station."

"What about the two suspects? Swayer and Carter?" He kept his voice low, not wanting Blair to wake yet.

"We're still looking for them," Simon informed him. "Can you come in today?"

Jim frowned. "I don't want to leave Blair alone while these bastards are still out there."

"Hold on, Jim..."

Jim sighed, resigned, and waited for the captain to return to the phone.

"Jim, you still there?"

"Yes..." Shit, now Blair was stirring on the couch! "Make it quick."

"Joel's off duty in thirty minutes and he just offered to keep Blair company while you're gone."

"I don't know, sir. I need Sandburg with me if I want to focus my senses without zoning out."

"Is Blair in any condition to come in today?"

"I don't think so. The pain pills knocked him out big time. He's going to be groggy all day." Jim considered the situation. "Send Joel over and I'll come in for an hour."

"Good, that's a deal... Joel? Jim says it's okay!"

"Simon, I've got to go now, Blair's waking up."

"Joel's on his way over to the loft... I'll see you in one hour."

He put the cell phone back on the kitchen table and headed for the couch. Blair had opened his eyes, but was staring blindly at the ceiling. "Morning, Chief, how are you feeling today?" Blair's dazed eyes focused and met his. "Doing okay?" It was probably time for another pain pill and taking a shower might improve Blair's spirits as well. Although...a shower's out of the question... I'll fill up the bathtub. He can't wash his hair single-handed and the bandage and ankle should stay dry as well. We'll do that after I get back from the station.

Blair blinked his eyes. "Sorry, didn't know where I was... I never woke up here before."

You'd better get used to it. "The laptop's already plugged in and your books are in the spare room. Do you want to change into some sweats?"

"A shower... man, I'd die for a shower." Pleadingly, Blair looked up. "How about it, Jim?"

"Sorry, Chief, that will have to wait. I have to be at the station in one hour. I can help you take that bath when I get back."

"Station? You're leaving?" Blair trembled and he hated showing his insecurity. "Of course you'd have to go in for work..."

"Joel's on his way over to keep you company while I'm gone." After giving Blair another reassuring smile, he walked to the spare room, selected underwear, socks and sweats and returned to Blair. "I bet you're dying to get out of that med gown."

"Oh, yeah..." Blair tried to push himself upright, but his eyes widened at the pain that swept through his body. There wasn't a spot that didn't hurt. "You can tell Joel I don't need a sitter, man... He's got better things to do than watch me."

"He volunteered." He helped Blair sit upright and then pushed back the blankets. "Let me do the work, okay, Chief?"

Blair nodded, resigned. "I'm sorry, man... now you're stuck with me. I could rent a hotel room..."

"No way, Chief." Jim cautiously slid down the medical gown until it dropped to Blair's waist. "Let's do the shirt first." He had to remove the sling to work the baggy shirt over Blair's upper body. Blair went pale as he slipped the sleeve down the injured arm, but the younger man remained quiet. "That was the hard part," Jim said, reassuringly.

Blair went from pale to blush as Jim took hold of the underwear. "I can do that myself. Give me some privacy, Jim."

Jim smiled. If Blair wanted to try himself he wasn't going to stop his partner, although he doubted that Blair could put the underwear on unaided. "I'll start breakfast." Giving Blair some privacy, he retreated into the kitchen.

"Oh, Jim, man... you're right... I need help."

Jim repressed the grin that almost surfaced on his face as he returned to the couch. Blair's face had turned crimson, partly from the exertion, but he suspected that the younger man wasn't completely comfortable needing help. "Don't worry, Chief. When I was a medic in the army I saw a lot of naked bodies. You've got nothing I haven't seen before."

"You were a medic? I knew you were in the army, but... why a medic? I would have assumed you were with an elite force working behind enemy lines. You don't strike me as a medic..." Blair was babbling to cover up his embarrassment. Jim was sliding the boxers up his legs and he felt exposed and vulnerable. He released a deep sigh when the boxers were in place and he refused to think about the bath Jim would be giving him later. That meant getting completely naked! Oh man, I'm not sure I can do that, what if I... Growing aroused was his biggest concern. I don't want Jim to find out that I've got a crush on him!

"Hey, what's going on in that head of yours?" Gently, he lifted the sprained ankle and eased the sweat pants up Blair's legs.

"I want to come in with you today. Joel doesn't have to come over and you need me to keep from zoning out." Blair sought out Jim's eyes. "Listen to me. You still need to go over the crime scenes and you need me to guide you."

"We got eyewitnesses and they identified two of them from mug shots. Going over the crime scene is a formality." Blair's eyes revealed his hurt and Jim acted instinctively. "Chief, you're right. I would pick up a lot more if you were at my side, but you're hurt and Jenkins ordered bed rest, remember? Concentrate on healing, buddy."

"It's not fair..."

"Life never is, Chief." Jim kept his eyes locked with Blair's. "Don't give Joel a hard time; Simon told me Joel's been asking about your health since this started."

Blair's eyes grew big. "Why?"

"Joel likes you." Checking the time, he realized he had to hurry up. "Let's eat breakfast. Joel should arrive in thirty and I need to shower and change..."

"Sure..." Blair leaned back into the comfort of the couch and watched Jim return to the kitchen and set the table. Silently, he studied the Sentinel, wondering about Jim's concern for him. Knowing Jim cared made him want to heal faster.

"We can eat," Jim announced as he walked over to Blair, carrying a tray and placing it on the younger man's lap. "You need help with that?"

"I think I can manage." Staring at the food, his stomach contorted, but he forced himself to eat some scrambled eggs and toast. He washed it down with the OJ. Jim had kept him company, eating his bacon and eggs, but now the older man got to his feet and headed back to the kitchen. "Jim, no, I don't need them," he whispered, as Jim returned with another pain pill.

"This isn't open for discussion, Chief. Jenkins wants you to take one every twelve hours." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched Blair swallow one. "Do you need anything before I hit the shower?"

"No, I'm fine..." Blair had considered working on the laptop, but he was too tired and ached too badly to try. "I think I'll sleep some more..."

Jim smiled, approvingly. Rest was the best medicine right now.

Joel moved quietly, trying not to disturb the sleeping anthropologist on the couch. He felt glad that he had been given the chance to check on Blair personally. The young man had greatly impressed him when Kincaid had taken over Major Crimes and he wanted to make sure that Blair was going to be all right.

When he had arrived, he had patiently listened to Jim's instructions, which had him baffled. Was this the same Jim Ellison who didn't seem to give a damn about the world? Who didn't have friends? No, Ellison had changed and he bet it had something to do with Blair Sandburg.

After making himself some coffee he settled down on the loveseat with one of Blair's books. He didn't want to switch on the TV- the noise would disturb Blair's sleep and the young man looked like he needed the rest.

A Sentinel? What's a Sentinel? Puzzled, he checked out the cover of the book. And who's sir Richard Burton? I guess it's not the movie star... Curious, he began reading the first chapter.

Uhm, why am I still in bed? And why is my bed this bumpy? Blair gingerly opened his eyes. Yes, the sun was up and warming the room. Hold on, this is not my apartment... I'm staying with Jim. Blinking his eyes, he managed to push himself upright. The shoulder ached, but the pain pills were taking off the edge.

"Hey, Blair, did you sleep well?"

Surprised, he looked at Joel, who had made himself comfortable on the loveseat. "Oh, yeah, Jim mentioned you'd be coming over." Man, I need to go to the bathroom real bad! Cautiously, he pushed back the blankets and placed his feet on the floor. Pain slid through his sprained ankle and it left him nearly breathless. Man, this was bad.

"What do you think you're doing?" Joel placed the book aside and got to his feet.

"Need to take a leak, real bad." Blair's eyes widened as he finally rose from the couch.

Joel moved quickly and steadied him. "There's no shame in asking for help, you know."

"Sorry, man, but... I can do this on my own... You can let go."

"Oh no, Jim will rip me a new one if I let anything happen to you." Joel smiled and walked his charge to the bathroom.

"That's enough help. Thanks, but I can manage." Blushing, Blair pushed himself away from Joel and entered the bathroom. It took some awkward struggling to relief himself, but he managed. While washing his hands, he stared into the mirror. His face was black and blue, the bandage hid the swastika, his eyes were dull and lifeless and his hair was a complete mess. He really needed a bath!

The swas... it's right there, beneath the bandage... Why did they do it? I want it removed... I... Tears pooled in his eyes, but he fought them. He wasn't going to cry, he wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Instead, he concentrated on his anger. Jim and Simon would catch them and they would never do this to another living being again!

Just thinking about the swastika made him nauseous and his stomach acted up. He hated throwing up and tried to get back in control of his emotions. I'm not having a panic attack! I'm not!

"Blair? Is everything okay? Do you need help?" Worried, Joel listened closely, hoping to catch some sounds coming from the bathroom that would tell him how Blair was doing.

"Just need one more moment," Blair said, firmly, avoiding looking at his reflection. I'm not gonna dwell on the swastika. The plastic surgeon will remove it and then it's gone. It's only a matter of time...

"Blair, either you're coming out or I'm coming in." Joel couldn't help being concerned. Blair had looked bad.

"I'm coming, hold your horses!" Frustrated, Blair shuffled back into the living room. Joel eyed him suspiciously. "I'm cool, chill out, Joel." Why was everybody fussing over him? He could take care of himself, had done so most of his life. Naomi had wanted him to be self-reliant and he liked being independent.

Joel steered Blair back to the couch and felt relieved when the young man was finally sitting down again. "Want something to drink? Eat?"

He was about to decline, but then realized how thirsty he was. "Would you make me some tea? That is, if Jim has some..." Jim loved coffee and he had never seen the Sentinel drink tea.

"I'll give it a shot." Joel draped the blanket over Blair's lap and walked into the kitchen. Searching Jim's cupboards, he decided to make some small talk. "I was reading one of your books."

Blair wasn't really listening, trying to fight down the pain in his shoulder and ankle. Maybe refusing Joel's help had been a mistake.

"Bingo..." Joel frowned. "Didn't know Ellison liked herbal tea."

"What?" Blair looked up.

"What taste would you like? We got spearmint, peppermint and chamomile." Joel put on some water and waited for it to come to the boil.

"Those are my favorites..." Blair considered getting to his feet and checking out the tea himself, but he was way too comfortable on the couch. "Peppermint sounds great."

"Okay, peppermint it is." Joel poured the hot water into a mug and added the teabag. After carrying it into the living room, he placed it on the coffee table and sat down on the loveseat again. "As I was saying, interesting lecture."

Blair looked up from the tea he was nursing. "What are you reading?"

"The Monograph by Sir Richard Burton. I'm guessing it's not the movie star?"

Blair nearly dropped the tea. Jim must have collected his books and Joel had picked one up, being bored while he was asleep. This wasn't good, Joel reading about Sentinels. Please don't let him link the book to Jim...

"Reading it made me think of Jim..." Joel watched him carefully. "The way he knows what's going to happen next... it's like he's hearing things we don't..."

Blair gulped. "You're just imagining things, Joel."

I don't think so, Blair, but this is hardly the time to discuss this. You really look like hell. I'll let you off the hook, but you've got to know that more people will figure this one out. Jim was a mess, out of control and then you come along. Simon told me your thesis is on closed societies, but I don't buy it... you're riding with Jim exclusively... Joel looked at the book cover and nodded his head. Way too much coincidence.

Blair desperately tried to think of a way to distract Joel. "Any new leads on... my case?"

Joel shrugged his shoulders. "We're working on it. Simon's really breathing down our necks to catch these guys. I've seldom seen him this driven before. He really wants to nail them and we will, I promise."

"Would you do me a favor?" Blair stared into his tea.

"What do you want me to do?" Joel decided to let the Sentinel issue rest. He knew the truth and if Blair didn't want to admit to it, he had to accept that.

"Call the hospital and find out how Sebastian is doing?" He had felt too groggy earlier or he would have asked Jim to find out.

Shit... Joel drew in a deep breath. Why did he have to be the one to deliver the bad news? "Blair," he said, moving closer until he caught the younger man's glance. "Sebastian died this morning. His injuries were too severe and they failed to stop the internal bleeding. He never regained consciousness."

"No..." Blair's voice was a mere whisper. "He was so young..." Sebastian couldn't be dead. "No..."

"I'm really sorry, Blair." Joel moved over to the couch and caught Blair's hand between his. "He didn't feel any pain after he lost consciousness." Unshed tears gathered in Blair's draped eyes. "Was he a good friend?"

Blair stared at the floor, unable to accept the news just yet. "We started at Rainier at the same time... we were even roomies for a few months. I could always count on him, and now he's gone?"

Swimming eyes met his and Joel swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Find the bastards that did this to him!" Blair's rage was surfacing again. If he hadn't been injured he would have been tempted to punch something. "I should have stopped them instead of running away! What was I thinking?"

Joel shook his head. "I haven't known you for long, Blair, but I don't think you're a violent person. You did the right thing by running away and hoping they'd follow you. Sebastian died because they beat him. It isn't your fault he died, Blair."

Blair refused to cry in front of Joel. He would mourn Sebastian's death in private later. "Why am I still here? I should be at the station, helping Jim find them. Instead I'm here."

"You're injured, Blair, you need to rest. Let Jim do his work. He's one of the best detectives I ever worked with." Joel carefully folded one arm around the younger man. Blair hadn't cracked when Kincaid had singled him out, but this was different. Losing Sebastian and being the victim of a hate crime had caused some cracks in Blair's armor.

Blair didn't want to give in to the feelings that were overwhelming him, but he liked Joel, trusted the older man, and finally he succumbed to the pain that he had been pushing away. Resting his head against Joel's shoulder, he quickly wiped away the few tears that escaped his eyes. "I'm sorry... usually I don't lose it this easily... it's just... I've never seen so much hate directed at me... it felt like staring into the face of evil... they hated us..."

"I've seen that look before. When I was little, people looked at me like that, called me boy, nigger..." Joel felt Blair shiver. "What I'm trying to say is that there will always be ignorant people who jump on the bandwagon because some psychopath with charisma tells them to follow his example."

"Joel, man, you're a good friend." Blair actually felt better now. "Thanks for coming over. Guess I needed a babysitter after all."

"Na, you just needed someone to listen to you."

"Joel, how's he doing?" Jim closed the door behind him. His first glance was for Blair, who was dozing on the couch. His eyes were still open, but the draped expression in them showed how tired the anthropologist really was.

"I had to tell him about the Mayer's kid and it shook him pretty badly, but he's doing better." Joel collected his coat and walked over to Jim. "Keep an eye on him. He's way too eager to take care of himself and shut everyone else out." He draped the coat over his shoulders and let himself out. "See you at the station. Call me in case you need someone to keep him company."

Jim nodded his head, knowing he could always count on Joel. Walking over to Blair, he sat on his heels and studied the clouded eyes. "Do you want to take that bath now?"

"Oh, yeah, sounds great... but I won't be much help. Shoulder's stiffening up and my ankle..."

"I'll do the work, remember?" Jim shed his coat and shoes and walked into the bathroom to fill up the tub.

"Any news on the case?" Blair hated being this immobile and flushed as Jim began stripping him. He almost suggested letting him keep the boxers on, but bit his lip and stayed quiet. Jim was a medic. It's like he said, I don't have anything he hasn't seen before. This isn't sexual; he's just helping me into the bathtub. Jim allowed him to keep the boxers on until they had reached the steamy bathroom.

"Step out of them, Chief and hold on." Jim pulled down the boxers and caught Blair's pain filled moan as he moved his sprained ankle. "I'm gonna lower you into the bathtub, okay?"

Blair suddenly found himself in Jim's arms and he moaned softly as the warm water welcomed him. "Feels great..."

"That's good," Jim mumbled, pleased. "Now let me get the shampoo and shower gel." He placed a towel beneath Blair's sprained ankle, making sure it didn't come into contact with the water. He didn't want to have to re-bandage it.

As he made his way back carrying the desired items, he absentmindedly noticed the large amount of chest hair that Blair sported. This was the first time seeing his partner naked and he was surprised to see the fine muscle tone on the younger man's body. Blair worked out more than he had thought.

Blair noticed the expression and quickly reached the right conclusion. "What? You think I'm a lazy bum with lots of baby fat?"

"I didn't know you worked out," Jim admitted as he squeezed some shampoo into the palm of his hand.

"I try to run each morning... used to run four miles, but I don't always have the time. I also play basketball at Rainier... Sebastian was also on the team..." Feeling depressed, he shivered, remembering the horrific moments that had changed his life forever.

He massaged Blair's scalp, hoping it would relax the younger man. "I'm sorry he died."

"It's not your fault, Jim."

"It isn't yours either."

"Did you talk to Joel?" Suddenly alert, Blair locked eyes with Jim.

"No, it's called survivor's guilt, Chief. I blamed myself when my men died in Peru and I was the only survivor. I know how it feels." Jim used a glass to rinse Blair's hair and then added the conditioner.

"Hey, those are mine..."

"I grabbed your toiletries as well when I picked up your laptop and clothes." Jim smiled, realizing Blair had managed to change their subject. "You know you can talk to me about what happened, don't you?"

Blair nodded his head once. "It's just..." Gingerly, he lifted his hand and touched the bandage. "It's still there..."

"You heard what Doctor Jenkins said. It can be removed..." Jim finished washing Blair's hair and wrapped a fluffy towel around the wet mane.

"But it's still there... it doesn't hurt too much, but knowing it's still there... it feels like I'm marked for life." Blair glanced at Jim and the older man's expression astounded him. "What?"

"You know you don't have to do this on your own? You have a lot of friends... don't tackle this on your own, Blair."

He looked away. Whenever Jim used his name, he knew the Sentinel was really serious. "I promise."

"Good." Satisfied, Jim arranged some towels on the floor. "Okay, let's do this." He reached into the water and slipped his arms beneath Blair's back and legs, lifting him. Trying hard to keep his stare above Blair's waist, he failed and peeked at the younger man's groin. Don't do this, not now. Even if you're interested in him, this isn't the right time to bring it up.

Blair sighed relieved when Jim wrapped the warm towels around him. He even allowed him to rub his skin dry and when Jim slipped on his boxers, he didn't feel that uncomfortable any more.

Seated on the couch once more, dressed in warm sweats, he wished he could help Jim prepare dinner. Although he wasn't hungry he knew it was important he ate. As if he'd let me get away with not eating... I didn't know this side to him. I always thought he was this hard assed cop and now... he actually cares about me.

"Stop brooding." Jim was watching him from the kitchen and recognized the dark look in those blue eyes. "If you want to help, tell me what you want for dinner."

"I'm not really hungry," Blair started, hesitantly, "but I'll eat, yes... maybe some Chinese stir fry?"

Jim checked the contents of the fridge and cupboards, assembling everything he needed. "One stir fry coming up."

Blair watched Jim putter in the kitchen. "Can I ask you something, Jim? Something personal?"

Gooseflesh formed on his skin. Not knowing why, Jim felt uneasy. "Sure, Chief, what do you want to know?"

"Why did you take me in? It would have been way easier to put me in a safe house or a hotel room." Blair fidgeted with the corner of the blanket.

Jim fought down the anger that threatened to rise at hearing Blair's words. "Chief, how can you expect me to put you in a hotel room or safe house injured as you are?"

"I don't know... I mean, we're not friends or anything. You only met me four weeks ago." He wasn't sure he wanted to hear Jim's answer, but he had already put his foot in his mouth so he had better see this through.

Jim turned around and looked him in the eyes. "You don't think we're friends? You can't be serious!"

"Come on, man. It's quid pro quo. You help me with my diss and I help you control your senses." Accepting that Jim really cared presented a danger. To him, being independent meant that he didn't rely on people. He took care of himself and now Jim was taking over. Not even Naomi had been this concerned when he had felt poorly.

Jim turned the stove down and headed for the couch. Sitting down next to Blair, he studied the younger man. "We're friends... good friends as far as I'm concerned." What was going on with Blair? Why bring this up now? "Where's this coming from?"

"Don't know..." Blair admitted in a tiny tone. "I'm feeling... it's hard to explain."

"Maybe you just need to hear me say it. We're friends, you saved my sanity, you're my... guide. I couldn't make it without you. I like having you around." Jim arched an eyebrow; usually he wasn't much of a talker. This was definitely Blair's influence talking!

Blair managed a weak smile. "I think something's burning," he teased.

"Shit..." Jim jumped to his feet and salvaged the vegetables from burning completely. "Hope it's still edible," he commented as he filled their plates with noodles, chicken and vegetables. After carrying their plates into the living room, he put Blair's on his lap. "Need help with that? I can cut it into small pieces."

"I'll manage," Blair finally felt reassured that he was welcome here.

"Comfortable, Chief?" Jim tucked the blankets around his partner's form. Blair had obediently taken his pain pill and was dozing off again. Once Blair was sound asleep he planned on calling Simon to get an update.

"Yeah... com...forta...ble... you see... was a good idea... me slee...ping on the... couch..." Blair sleepily blinked his eyes, trying to maintain eye contact with Jim. "Wouldn't... want me in... your bed..."

"You'd be surprised, Darwin..." Jim gulped, realizing what he had just said, but Blair was too sleepy to understand. As Blair's eyes closed, Jim raised a hand and caressed the younger man's cheek. Traveling upward, his fingers hovered above the bandage, hoping Jenkins was right and that the plastic surgeon could remove the swastika.

"I'd love having you in my bed..." During his time in the army, and later in Vice, he'd had several one-night stands and he certainly wasn't new to the dating game. He had always been attracted to tall, military types, but Blair was exquisite in his own right. The large blue eyes carried their own light and his smile lit up his entire face. Four weeks, it only took four weeks to fall in love with him...

Blair was sound asleep and he leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss on the soft locks. "Sleep tight, Chief..." Perched on the end of the couch, he stalled, not yet wanting to move upstairs to get some sleep. He could sit here and watch Blair sleep all night, but then he would end up exhausted and would be little help to his partner.

Reluctantly, he got to his feet and climbed the stairs, wishing Blair had given in that first night; then the younger man would be sleeping in his bed instead of on the couch. Then he would have been close all night. I have to work on changing his mind... I have to try... maybe he can return my feelings... I have to try.

Blair bit his bottom lip, trying hard to remain silent; he didn't want to disturb Jim's sleep. He had just woken from a nightmare; he had known they would come eventually. Last night he had been too drained for them, but they were tormenting his sleep now. In his nightmare, the skinheads were chasing him and this time they kicked in the door and gained access to his bedroom where the beating continued. He had woken with a scream on his lips, but he had bit it down, keeping his fear inside. The nightmare had chased away his anger and only fear remained.

Staring at the moon through the windows, he pushed back the blanket and struggled to his feet. Lying down made him feel vulnerable, so stumbling, he made his way over to the large windows. He leaned against the wall, staring at the full moon and starlit sky. Oh man, I'm so glad I'm at the loft and not at the warehouse. I doubt they'd have come back to finish the job, but I won't ever feel safe there again. Maybe I should find a new place in a safer neighborhood. I can't possibly go back to living there...

I've never been this scared in my life. Why isn't Naomi here? I could use her around... Thankfully there’s Jim, but he’ll get fed up with me eventually. I'm not the easiest roommate. His ankle began to throb and he had to sit down again or he could collapse right there. No way could his ankle support him much longer.

"Hey, Chief, what's going on? Why aren't you asleep on the couch?" Jim switched on the lamp on the table and slowly approached Blair, giving him a chance to grow used to his presence. "Everything okay?"

No, I'm not okay, Jim. I just had a fucking nightmare... But he didn't say the words aloud. "Couldn't sleep..."

"Nightmare?" Jim folded one arm around the younger man and guided him back to the couch. "Sit down, Chief..."

Blair gingerly sat down and wondered about Jim. "What are you doing out of bed? You need your sleep; you have to go in tomorrow."

"Your heartbeat was racing and I had to check on you. Are you sure you're okay sleeping down here? Isn't the couch uncomfortable?" Smooth, Ellison, why don't you order him into your bed?

"The couch's okay," Blair said, averting his eyes. Jim, I can't sleep in your bed, with or without you in it... I'm in love with you...

"If you have another nightmare you're moving upstairs, Darwin, and I don't care if I have to get up at night to help you into the bathroom. I'd feel more comfortable if I had you close."

"You would?" Blair arched an eyebrow. "Thanks, Jim, but... I'm okay here."

"Do you think you can get back to sleep? It's only four in the morning." Jim suddenly realized that he had taken hold of Blair's hand and he was rubbing it reassuringly. He released Blair's hand and adjusted the sling.

"I don't think so..." He was shaking like a leaf and kept checking on the door.

"What about some tea?"

"Chamomile would be great, but... I never knew you liked tea."

"They're yours, Chief, I found them in your kitchen and brought them along when I picked up your laptop and the rest."

"That explains it," Blair whispered, smiling. "Yeah, tea would be great."

Jim nodded once and then walked into the kitchen to boil some water. "Why don't you tell me what that nightmare was about?"

"I'd rather not."

"It might help you deal with it," Jim pointed out as he handed Blair the mug filled with hot tea.

"Nothing special..." Blair mumbled, avoiding Jim's eyes. "They were chasing me and this time they made it into my bedroom."

"You're safe here, you know that, don't you?" Worried, Jim noticed the tremors that shook Blair's frame. Damn it, why do you have to fight me on this? Sleeping upstairs would make us both feel more comfortable.

"I won't feel safe until they're behind bars," Blair said honestly. He sipped the tea and sighed as the chamomile soothed his nerves. "You don't have to run down here every time I have a nightmare."

"Hey, I get worried," Jim said, slight defensively. "You'd do the same thing if it was me having nightmares."

"You're probably right on that." Growing sleepy again, he handed the still half-full mug back to Jim. He lay down and pulled up the blankets. "I think I can sleep now."

"Great." But Jim didn't feel like going upstairs yet.

"Can you leave the light on?" That way he could see the front door better.

"Sure, that's no problem, buddy." Jim leaned back in the loveseat and stretched his legs, resting his feet on the coffee table. "Go to sleep, Blair."

"I think... I will..." Blair's eyes closed, dozing off again.

"And this time I'm staying close." Jim pulled the afghan over his body and punched the pillows into the desired position. It was going to be a long night, but he was going to spend it downstairs on the loveseat, close to Blair.

Blair sleepily rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, suddenly growing aware of the snoring coming from his right. He cocked his head and privately cursed his aching shoulder when he twisted it a little too far. Jim? What's Jim doing asleep on the couch? Don't tell me he spent the night down here! His back will be acting up and his legs must be cramped... But... he's so handsome... Now that Jim was asleep, he felt comfortable studying the older man. The firm jaw spoke of determination and endurance, and once those eyes would open, he would see the tenderness in them.

At the station they had told him what a grumpy bastard Ellison was, but he had never believed them. He saw the tenderness in Jim's eyes and refused to believe that the Sentinel could ever be a bully. And now Jim was asleep on the couch. He never went back upstairs...

"It's impolite to stare," Jim teased, opening his eyes. He had been awake for the last few minutes and had given Blair a chance to study him. Blair's admission that he wasn't sure they were friends returned to him. "Blair..."

"Yeah?" Adjusting the sling, Blair maintained eye contact.

"We're friends... don't doubt that, okay?"

"Okay," Blair said, smiling brightly. "How about breakfast, Jim?"

"Getting pushy already, huh?" Jim stretched and got to his feet.

"Jim? Bathroom?"

"Sure, buddy." He gently helped Blair to his feet and encouraged the younger man to lean on him as they made their way over to the bathroom. Blair went in alone and Jim walked into the kitchen after picking up the cell phone and dialing Simon's number. "Banks..."

"Simon, any news on Sawyer and Carter?" Jim switched on the coffeemaker and watched the black liquid drip.

"We got a location on them... I guess you want to be part of the arresting team?"

"Oh yeah," Jim growled. "When do you want me at the station?"

"One hour... Joel is going in as well. I got reports that they have explosives."

"I'll be there," Jim promised and terminated the connection. "Chief, hurry up..."

"What's the rush?" Blair stepped into the kitchen, still wobbly on his feet, but doing much better. "Breakfast isn't even ready yet."

"Simon located two of your attackers and we're going in later today. He wants me at the station in one hour." Blair's eyes widened and he automatically reached out, steadying the younger man. "What?"

"You actually found them?"

"Two of them, Chief. Hopefully they'll tell on the others. Now sit down. What do you feel like? Pancakes or bagels?"

"Definitely bagels..." Dazed, he shook his head. They had found two of the bastards!

"Chief... Are you going to be okay alone or do you want me to make some calls?" He would certainly find someone who wanted to keep Blair company during his absence.

"No, man, I'm fine. Don't worry about that. I don't need a babysitter." But he had liked talking to Joel... maybe they could invite him over for dinner?

"Are you sure, Blair?" Jim placed the bagels on the kitchen table and searched his partner's eyes.

"I'm sure, Jim, cut it out!" Blair reached for a bagel and started munching. He knew that Jim was probably monitoring his vital signs to make sure he wasn't lying, so he controlled his breathing and smiled brightly. "Go get those bastards, Jim. I'm safe here at the loft..."

Jim reluctantly nodded his head, still not completely comfortable with leaving Blair.

Geeze, he's finally gone! Good thing I managed to convince him that I don't need a sitter. Man, he's really overreacting... but it feels nice... Blair watched Jim's car until it disappeared from view. His ankle was acting up despite the pain pill he had taken, and he stared longingly at the couch... then returned to staring out the window.

He couldn't stop watching the street; he needed to know no one was keeping an eye on the loft. It was highly unlikely that the remaining skinheads knew his whereabouts, but he was still scared that they would show up spray painting and trying to kick in the front door.

Losing track of time, his eyes began to sting from the constant staring. He had tried so hard to mislead Jim and he had succeeded. The Sentinel hadn't caught the lie. The truth was that he was terrified of being alone as long as even one of his tormentors was still out there.

How long before he returns? He no longer felt the pain in his ankle and the room around him began to spin. Sliding down the wall, he fainted and lost consciousness.

"Something's wrong."

Simon closely observed his detective as he cocked his head, listening to... something. "What is it?"

"Sandburg." Jim quickly opened the door and hurried inside, closely followed by Simon. "Fuck, I should have known better than to leave him alone!" He crouched next to Blair, listening to the younger man's heartbeat, which seemed all right. "He probably fainted..."

"Need my help?" Simon knew better than to invade their personal space. Jim's protectiveness of Blair still took him aback.

"I've got him," Jim whispered, sliding his hands beneath Blair's body and lifted him from the floor. Blair's eyes fluttered as his body hit the soft comfort of the couch. "Hey Chief, are you with me or what?" Jim sat on the side of the couch, rubbing Blair's hand. The sling had slipped and he quickly adjusted it.

"What happened, buddy?" Blair's eyes slowly opened. "You fainted, didn't you?" Worried, Jim pushed the pillow beneath the injured arm. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

"Chill out, man, it was my own fault." Blair swallowed hard, knowing it was time to spill the truth. "I had to keep an eye on the people on the street, you know... make sure, they didn't know where I was."

"Shit, Blair... why didn't you tell me? I could have asked Joel or someone else to stay with you." Checking Blair's sprained ankle, he hoped that losing his footing hadn't worsened the ankle's condition.

Blair managed a smile, touched by Jim's concern. "You've got to tune it down, Jim. I'm okay. It's normal that I'm stressed out, considering..." Great, he had been able to forget about the swastika on his head and now it was coming back: the pain, the humiliation and the helplessness. He never wanted to feel that helpless again.

"Jim..." Simon had kept quiet, wanting Blair to have some privacy, but they were here for a reason.

Blair's eyes widened; he hadn't realized Simon was here as well! "Captain..." he whispered, feeling uncomfortable lying down while Simon was standing behind the couch.

"Chief, we're here because... do you think you can come to the station and ID these guys?" Jim maintained his hold on Blair's wrist, gently stroking the skin. It seemed to soothe the younger man and Blair's heartbeat slowed down to normal.

Blair nodded his head at once. "I might need a little help, but yeah, I can ID those bastards."

Looking down at his body, he wondered about the sweats though. "Jim, can I change into something decent? Did you bring any jeans and shirts?"

"It's not a beauty contest, Sandburg," Simon snorted, teasing the younger man.

Blair continued to stare at Jim. "Please? I don't want them to think I can't even properly dress myself." He needed a little dignity.

Jim almost declined, but then realized how hard it was on Blair to go into the PD while that fucking swastika was still on his brow. He wanted Blair to feel as strong and as confident as possible. "How do jeans and a flannel shirt sound?" I don't want to jostle your arm too much... we can drape the shirt over your shoulders."

"Yeah, that sounds just fine." Blair smiled, relieved.

Jim exchanged a glance with his captain, pleading for understanding.

"I'll be in the car. You've got five minutes." Simon shook his head and exited the apartment. He hardly recognized his detective anymore... Jim Ellison had turned into a mother hen!

Nervous, Blair let his hair fall in front of his face. As long as he could hide behind it, he felt confident enough to accompany Jim inside. The white bandage would draw people's attention and he hid behind Jim's broad back, hoping to escape any scrutiny.

"Chief, are you okay?" Jim hated the way Blair hid behind him, but allowed it. He heard people whisper all around him; they knew what had happened to his partner. Most of them condemned the deed, but one or two seemed to agree with the skinheads, voicing, "that the hippie had it coming". He would seek them out later and straighten them out, the hard way if necessary.

"I just want this over with." Limping behind Jim, he refused the older man's steadying arm. "I can walk on my own."

Hurt, Jim pulled back. He understood where Blair was coming from, but there was no shame in accepting help when one needed it. "They're in Interrogation Room Two."

"Do I have... you know... face to face?" Oh God, he hoped not! He would lose it if he had to face them head on.

"No, I want you to look at them through the mirror and tell me if they were part of the group that attacked you." Jim walked toward Simon, who was already waiting for them. Opening the door, he let Blair enter first.

Staring through the false mirror, his breath caught. He would never forget their faces... they haunted him in his nightmares. "It's them... oh, Jim, it's them... they... they..."

"Take deep breaths, Chief," Jim said reassuringly, resting a hand at the small of Blair's back. "Take it one step at a time."

"The one on the right... the one with the tattoo? He used the knife on me... Oh, Jim, I can't..." No, he wasn't having a panic attack right here and now! He wasn't... yes, he was...

"Sit down, Chief... slow breaths, come on, slow breaths... Simon, get me a paper bag or something else."

Blair sat down and tried to slow down his breathing, but it wouldn't work. He could still see them and they were staring right back at him. "Tellme... tellmetheycan'tseemee... tellme..."

Jim nodded gratefully as Simon returned with a paper bag. Placing it over Blair's nose and mouth, he continued to reassure his partner. "Nice slow breaths... no, Chief, they can't see you... they don't know you're here..."

Blair wasn't sure which emotion was stronger, hate or fear. Listening to Jim's coaching, he began to calm down and eventually they could dispose of the paper bag. "They followed me home, Jim."

"And Carter cut your skin?" Jim phrased it carefully, unwilling to evoke another panic attack.

"Yeah and the other one kept pulling at my shoulder... keeping me in place..."

Simon deemed the time right to intervene. "Sandburg, you did a great job. You provided us with the information we needed. Don't worry about them hitting the streets again, they won't."

"Thanks." Shakily, Blair managed to get back to his feet. "Can we go now, Jim?"

"Take the kid home," Simon ordered. Softer, only meant for Jim's ears he added, "And keep me informed on his condition."

Jim nodded, appreciating Simon's concern, and steered Blair out of the room.

"Hairboy! I missed you!"

"H..." Blair fought down another bout of nervousness. Brown approached him and he froze in his tracks, quickly hiding the bandage behind his hair.

Jim's heart ached, seeing Blair's insecurity. Yeah, I'd rather deal with an angry Blair.

"Oh, Blair, we were so worried!" Rhonda now joined them as well.

Blair forced himself to act normally, accepting their best wishes, but secretly begging Jim with his eyes to get him out of there.

Jim quickly caught on. "Hey, guys, he's still recovering. Give him some space." Rafe had also noticed their presence and was coming over, followed by Joel, and he just knew Blair was about to bolt. "Chief?"

"Please, Jim..." He couldn't deal with the crowd right now; he felt trapped. It didn't matter if these people meant well, he felt trapped... trapped in his bedroom with the skinheads trying to knock down his door.

Blair's heartbeat suddenly skyrocketed and Jim wrapped an arm around his partner. "I'm sure Blair appreciates the concern, but I really need to get him home now. Officially he's still confined to bed."

"Shit, Hairboy, what are you doing on your feet? Ellison, take him home! We'll come over when he feels better." H noticed the slumped shoulders and Blair was definitely hiding behind Jim's broad back.

"Thanks, guys... you know what? I'll host the next poker game and we'll talk some more then." Everyone, except Blair, stared at him in shock. Okay, so he hadn't hosted a poker night before... "And you're invited too, buddy. Looks like you're the main event." He gently rubbed Blair's back. "Wanna go home now?"

"Yeah, and thanks guys, but... maybe later?" He hated disappointing them, but he needed to get away from them. I wanna go back to the loft... I feel safe there... with Jim.

Jim steered him toward the exit, thanking everyone for the concern and best wishes. "How are you doing, Chief?"

"Just get me out of here..." Blair shivered.

"We're going home, Darwin..."

Home... if only the loft really were my home! In time, you'll grow tired of me and I'll have to move back to my apartment where... where they... I can't ever look at the front door again without seeing the writing... Oh, how I wish the loft was home... but it isn't...

Blair had been awfully quiet since they had returned to the loft and the silence made Jim's skin crawl. Blair was sitting on the loveseat, nursing a cup of tea. He stopped doing the dishes and joined the younger man on the couch. "Is something wrong?" The silence had started after they had left the station.

Jim's voice pulled him away from his dark and depressed thoughts. "Maybe we could do some tests now that I'm stuck here. Once I move back to... to the warehouse we won't have the time."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "Blair, why are you lying?"

"Huh?" Startled, he made eye contact with Jim. "Lying?"

"You don't want to do any tests and you don't want to move back to the warehouse." Jim leaned back and watched his partner. "You don't have to go back there."

"Jim, come on, get serious. It's my..."

"It's not your home... not anymore, provided it once felt like a home to you."

"Jim, be serious... finding another place at this time of the year is madness. I have to stay there... I should probably move back in a few days." Depressed, Blair stared at his mug, unwilling to meet Jim's eyes.

"You're welcome to stay here, you know that." Hesitantly, he rested his hand on Blair's shoulder. "You don't have to go back to the warehouse." Blair's big eyes met his questioningly, begging him to explain. "I mean it, Chief." Jim cleared his throat. "You can stay in the spare room. I'll move everything into the basement so you can move yours in. And if you're worried about the rent... we'll work something out, trust me."

"Jim, are you sure? I'm a lousy roommate." Blair blinked his eyes, hesitant to believe Jim's offer was serious. The loft would be my home...

"I'm sure, Chief." Jim gently rubbed Blair's back, realizing that the younger man eagerly accepted the touch, even leaned into it.

"I take it that's a yes?" He didn't know what he was getting himself into with Blair living here, but he could deal with the tests and chatter... He liked hearing Blair's voice.

"Yeah... I guess, if you're really sure. I can always move out again if you get tired of me and..." Jim placed a finger against his lips, shutting him up. All he could think was God, how I want to lick and suck that finger!

"Chief? You're babbling." Realizing that Blair needed more reassurance, Jim rose to his feet again. "Why don't I move some boxes to the basement and later, you tell me what else you want from your old place and I pick it up?" Walking toward the spare room, he kept his senses locked on Blair.

"You'd do that for me?" He still couldn't believe that Jim was offering him a place to stay! He had never seen it coming!

Cautiously, he rose from the loveseat, biting down the pain that emanated from his ankle. Following Jim, he remained standing at the entrance to the storage room. Jim was already putting stuff into boxes, and pushed them toward the doorway. "Why?"

Blair, I'd rather have you in my bed, but I'll be able to sleep a lot better knowing you're safe here.Too bad he couldn't say those words aloud. "You're helping me with those senses and... I like the idea of having you close."

"Because I can pull you from a zone out?" Blair leaned against the wall, holding his breath in anticipation. Jim's answer meant a lot to him.

Jim shrugged his shoulders, realizing he had to take the plunge into the deep. "I like having you close, Blair," he said eventually, showing more vulnerability than he was comfortable with. Turning his back toward Blair, he continued to pack.

I can't believe he's doing this... but would he have also invited me if I hadn't been injured? He stepped into the room, watching Jim intently. "Jim... you like having me close?"

Sighing, Jim turned around and faced the younger man. "Chief, I don't know why you're finding this hard to believe, but I care about you."

"But we only met four weeks ago!"

"You grow on people..."

"What?"

"Simon thinks you grow on people... He might not show it but he likes having you around. We're cops, Blair. Every day we see the ugly side of life, but things have started to change a little since you came to the station. It's been ages since I last saw Simon smile, or heard him make teasing remarks... you bring... life to the station whenever you're around." Oh man, he hadn't known he could smooth talk like that. "Believe me, Chief."

"Okay..." Mouth agape, Blair shook his head. I didn't even know Simon liked me!

"I'm going to start by taking these boxes to the basement. If you want to make yourself useful you can make some coffee, provided you can manage single-handedly."

"I can manage..." Jim left the room and Blair stood there, still in shock. They like having me at the station? Smiling, he stepped into the living room and started for the kitchen in a slow pace, favoring his ankle.

A loud bang on the door startled him and he tripped, hitting the couch hard with his injured ankle. "Jim? Is that you? Did you forget the keys?" But his instincts warned him to stay away from the door and he moved toward the spare room, recalling he had seen an emergency exit there.

Another loud bang followed and the door shook, fell from its hinges and hit the floor with a loud thud. "We're back, faggot..." Shocked, he froze, immediately recognizing their ugly faces. No, no, it can't be them! They don't know where I live and Jim... where's Jim? What did they do to Jim? Frozen, he helplessly watched them stalk closer.

"Hey, Jim, you need a hand with that?"

Jim smiled and handed Joel one of the boxes. "Perfect timing." Stepping into the elevator, he waited for Joel to join him and then pushed the button. The elevator started moving. The blinding smile remained on his face.

"How do you come to be so happy?" It was a rare treat to see Jim smile, a sight which he had been deprived of since the other man had started working with Major Crimes. Something special must have happened.

"Sandburg agreed to stay at the loft. He isn't moving back the warehouse," Jim announced as he exited the elevator.

Joel followed suite. "Blair's staying?" Okay, he understood why Blair would want to stay at the loft, but why was that decision making Jim so happy? "I never knew you wanted a roommate."

"With Blair it's different," Jim mused, opening the door to the basement. "I like having him around."

Joel arched an eyebrow. "Is this the same Jim Ellison who growled at everyone who threatened to come within five feet of his desk?"

Jim smiled awkwardly. "There was a lot going on you don't know about. I didn't feel that great at the time and..."

Joel startled as Jim dropped the box onto the floor; it seemed to slip from his hands. "Jim?" But the other man cocked his head, listening intently and once again he was reminded of the book he had been reading while keeping an eye on Blair. A Sentinel had heightened hearing...

"Fuck, they must have followed me home..." Jim spun around and didn't bother to use the elevator. Taking giant steps, he climbed the stairs while drawing his gun.

"Who did? Jim?" Acting instinctively, Joel dropped his box and drew his gun as well, following Jim as fast as he could. Maybe he should have opted for the elevator. At times like these, his weight slowed him down.

"The skinheads did..." Growling, Jim kicked in his front door and stormed inside.

Blair yelped in pain as one of the skinheads targeted his shoulder, landing a hard punch.

"Faggot... Jew pig... we're gonna finish what we started..." The leader of the skinheads, who was dressed in black and wearing Wehrmacht insignia, moved in closer, holding a baseball bat in his hands. "You didn't think we would find you, bitch, did you? You got our friends arrested..."

Suddenly the door landed on the floor with a loud bang and the skinheads turned around.

"Don't make any sudden moves, lose the bat and raise your hands. You're under arrest." Jim was doing his best to remain calm. He really wanted to rip them apart for hurting Blair like that. "I said, drop the bat!"

Joel arrived as well, panting slightly, but understanding the situation at once. Mimicking Jim's moves, he aimed his gun at the intruders. "You'd better do what he says."

"Blair, go upstairs and don't come down again," Jim ordered. Seeing Blair's pain-filled, but still stubborn expression he added, "Now, Blair. Go upstairs." He hoped Blair wasn't going to fight him on this.

The leader of the skinheads gripped the baseball bat harder, not intending to let go. "Hey, what's going on, man? You should be on our side! We're the master race!"

Jim swallowed his rage. "Drop the bat." From the corner of his eye, he watched Blair slowly climb the stairs. Too slowly. Cold sweat erupted from Blair's pores and Jim wasn't sure whether it was from fear, anger or pain, but at least the younger man was obeying.

Joel had uncovered his cell phone and was calling in for assistance. "They'll be here in five."

The skinheads exchanged looks and the leader addressed Jim again. "They're inferior; faggots, Jews, blacks, we need to dispose of them! Come on, man, join us!"

"You make me sick," Jim growled and Joel whispered his approval. "Last chance, lose the bat and put your hands in the air." He didn't like this one bit. They were stalling and he needed to act fast. Luckily Blair had disappeared from view, his heart going a hundred miles an hour.

"Jim, look out!" Joel fired when one of the skinheads drew a small caliber handgun, aiming it at Jim.

Jim ducked, returned fire and before he knew what was happening, one skinhead was down and the other five were making their way toward the doorway. Tackling one of them, he grabbed the skinhead's legs and pulled him down, knocking him out with a well-aimed punch.

Joel had managed to take out another skinhead, but three still got away. "Jim?"

"I want their heads." Jim took up pursuit, determined to arrest them, but when he reached the main entrance, he found that two uniformed cops had stopped them, slamming the handcuffs around their wrists. "Let me collect the other three."

He climbed the stairs thoughtfully, wondering why he hadn't noticed them following him home. Yes, his senses had been spiking slightly, but... Damn, Blair really needed to teach him how to use these senses.

Stepping into the apartment again, he thanked Joel for the help. "Is Blair still upstairs?"

"Yes, he hasn't come down yet." Joel dragged one skinhead to his feet.

Jim collected the other two and stole a look at his bedroom. "I'll be right back, Chief, stay where you are." His heightened hearing caught Blair's whispered answer.

"I'll be here... how did they find me? Jim...I..."

He bit his bottom lip, unwilling to leave Blair alone, but he had to deliver these thugs to the patrol car downstairs. Joel and the uniforms could take care of the rest. He wanted to go upstairs and talk to Blair, assure him that everything was okay now.

"I can handle it from here," Joel said, seeing the expression in Jim's eyes. "Go talk to Blair. He's probably shaken."

Knowing Joel would do everything by the book, he nodded his head. "Make sure they don't get out on a technicality. Read them their rights and..."

"Jim, trust me, I know what to do," Joel said reassuringly and then shooed Jim toward the elevator. "Your partner needs you, Ellison. Get moving."

"Thanks..." Jim pushed the elevator button and rushed into his apartment. After climbing the stairs, he remained standing near the railing. Blair was sitting on the bed; a blanket tightly wrapped around him. He was shaking like a leaf and rocking slightly.

He sat down on the bed next to Blair and tried to catch the younger man's elusive glance. "We arrested them, Chief. They'll be put away for a long time. They must have followed me home... my senses were spiking and..."

"Your senses spiked?" Alarmed, Blair stopped hiding behind his locks and finally made eye contact with the other man. "What happened?"

"We can discuss my senses later, Chief." Jim smiled. He had finally gained Blair's full attention. "I'm sorry they got in... it took me so long to get here because I was in the basement..."

"There's no need to apologize," Blair whispered. "It wasn't your fault... it's just..." He flinched as his shoulder acted up again. He had taken one blow to his shoulder and it was throbbing painfully.

"How about a pain pill?" Jim was about to rise from the bed when Blair's hand suddenly reached for his, grabbing it tightly.

"Don't go..."

"I'm only going downstairs to get the pain pills, Chief..." Blair's anger seemed to have evaporated and only fear remained. "I'll be right back." Blair finally released his hand, and he rushed into the kitchen to collect the meds and some bottled water. "Here, take one..."

Blair swallowed the pain pill after eyeing it suspiciously. Great, now I don't feel safe here any more as well. I can't go back to the warehouse either and staying here... Every night I spend on the couch or in the spare room, I'll be anticipating their return...

"Chief, why don't you lie down and get some rest?" Smoothing back Blair's hair, Jim avoided touching the bandage.

"It's only one in the afternoon, Jim... It's way too early to sleep." And he couldn't sleep, not even if his life depended on it. He still heard their voices, heard their demeaning words and couldn't get them out of his heads. "Why? Why me? What did I ever do to them? I don't even know them!"

"They hate what they don't understand," Jim said softly. "They're afraid..."

"What? That my presence will make them gay? What?"

"Maybe..." Jim wrapped an arm around the trembling man and eased Blair's back against his chest.

"I don't wanna go down there..." Blair closed his eyes, trying to block the ugly images from his memory, but he failed. Involuntarily, not realizing what he was doing, he leaned back against Jim, accepting his closeness.

"You don't have to go back down there," Jim assured him. "Come on, Darwin, lie down and get some rest. I need to make a few calls, inform Simon, talk to Joel, but I promise to keep my eye on you..."

"Can't you... stay?" Blair gulped, realizing just how badly he wanted Jim to stay.

Jim sighed his resignation. "Let me get the cell phone first?"

"Okay." Blair lay down; this bed was way more comfortable than the couch. He watched Jim descend the stairs and return, carrying his cell phone. Jim stopped to tuck him in and he smiled, loving the fact that Jim was worried about him. Closing his eyes, he tried to listen, but exhaustion got the better of him and he dozed off.

Jim positioned a pillow beneath Blair's injured arm. He allowed himself the luxury of watching Blair fall asleep and then used his cell phone to call Simon. He's in my bed... Blair's in my bed and I'm not letting him leave again!

Huh, why am I this warm? Pushing down the comforter, he wondered about the softness of the couch. Last time he had slept on it, it had been bumpy. His eyes flashed open, and his breath caught, realizing he wasn't in the living room any longer. Jim's bedroom... He made me lie down in his bed...

Cocking his head, he realized that he was lying on his back, his arm supported by a pillow. Jim was next to him, his back popped up against the railing and reading a book. "Jim?"

"Ah, you're finally awake?" Jim closed the book and locked eyes with his partner. "It's almost time for dinner."

"What?" He couldn't have slept that long!

"It's past six, Chief. You slept for five hours." Jim licked his lips, suddenly aware of the fact that Blair's body was in contact with his and his groin stirred. Damn, I can't be thinking of this now! But he was growing hard and he worried about Blair's reaction. His straining erection was clearly visible beneath his jeans. "Maybe I should get dinner ready..." He was desperate to leave the bed.

"Jim, wait..." He laid a hand on Jim's arm, keeping the other man in place. Noticing the bulge, he locked eyes with Jim. "Is there something I need to know?" No, this couldn't be happening. Jim couldn't possibly be attracted to him!

"Chief, I don't think this is the right time..." Blair placed a finger against his lips, and the gesture shut him up.

"Jim, the truth... just tell me the truth, man." All the signs were there, but this couldn't be happening. He never got this lucky! Jim Ellison couldn't have the hots for him!

Jim shrugged his shoulders. Sheepishly, he tried to salvage the situation. "It's a normal reaction, Chief. Having a warm body close and..."

"Don't do this, man."

Blair's pleading look convinced him to tell the truth. "I... I'm attracted to you."

"When did it start?" Blair shifted until he was sitting upright, staring at the older man.

"I guess after you saved me from that garbage truck. I gave you a rough time and you still came after me and saved my life..."

Blair smiled. "Hey man, I was hoping you fell for my gorgeous blue eyes." Hearing Jim's laugh, his smile broadened as well. The teasing remark had taken away some of Jim's tension. "Is that why you asked me to stay?"

"Yeah... I couldn't bear the thought of you being in that warehouse when you could be in my bed." Jim pushed a stray lock behind Blair's ear. "But you can't want an old cop like me..."

"Why not? Is there some rule against being in love with a Sentinel?" Blair flirted, leaned in closer and rubbed his cheek against Jim's hand like a cat.

"Chief...?" Jim frowned. Blair couldn't be saying what he thought he was saying.

"I'm in love with you too, you big oaf!" His eyes sparkled, seeing the understanding in Jim's eyes. "Man, I can't believe we were this stupid! You want me and I want you and..."

Jim effectively shut him up by leaning in closer and pressing his lips against his new lover's. "So that means you're gonna stay? At the loft... in my..."

"In your bed?" Blair nodded his head. "Oh, yeah, no way in hell will I let you go now..."

Claiming Blair's lips again, he savored the kiss, chasing Blair's tongue in a lazy duel. We'll make sweet love once you've recovered...

"Jim? I..." Blushing, Blair tried to catch Jim's glance. "I'm not up for..."

"Neither am I..." His fingers tangled in Blair's soft locks and he smiled. "Once you're feeling better..."

"Once the swastika is gone..." Blair sighed. "Waiting doesn't have to be a bad thing... we can get to know each other better before taking that final step."

"Very observant, Darwin. I knew there was a reason why you're helping me out at the station."

"You really think I contributed to solving your cases?"

Blair's eyes were blazing and Jim swallowed hard, taken aback by the expression in them. "Yeah, I do..." Enfolding Blair in his arms, he snuggled up to his lover. "You like to cuddle?"

Blair enthusiastically nodded his head. "Yeah, it drove some of my dates crazy in the past."

Blair fit perfectly in his arms and Jim tucked his lover's head beneath his chin. "I think I love you, Blair Sandburg..."

Blair smiled, happily. "And I love you too, you big lug!" Giggling, he got comfortable in Jim's arms, finally at home.

The end.
April 2002