Acknowledgements: This is for Wolfpup, who's humorous and gentle persuasions kept me writing even when I would have rather taken a nap. And it's for Andromede, who's kindness and generosity will never be forgotten by this fellow TS fan.

Note From The Author: Just remember, I am not a writer, but merely a weaver of the tapestries we call tales.

Simon Banks, captain of the Major Crimes division of the Cascade police force, looked up as the elevator opened and Detective James Ellison and his partner, anthropologist/police observer/advisor, Blair Sandburg, stepped out. It was Sandburg that now drew his attention. It was the anthropologist's first day back after having been shot on the previous case. To all outward appearances, Sandburg seemed fine, but Simon Banks knew better. Even if Ellison hadn't confided in him about Sandburg's problems, Banks had witnessed first hand the young man's erratic behavior. Might as well get this over with, he thought and called the two men into his office.

Ellison and Sandburg exchanged questioning looks then, after mirroring shrugs, joined the captain. "What's up Simon?" Ellison inquired as Sandburg quietly closed the office door behind them.

Simon sat behind his desk and took a moment to marshal his thoughts. Looking up, his eyes settled on the anthropologist. "Nice to have you back Sandburg."

Blair's eyes widened in surprise. He looked at Ellison in question and then back at Banks. "Ah... thanks Simon" was the only response his befuddled brain could come up with.

Ellison grinned. He knew, despite his best resolve, that Simon had come to not only respect, but actually like Sandburg, although he would be loathe to admit it. Sure, he kept the kid guessing, but after all that was part of the game. Ellison frowned. If that was the case, then why was Simon... "What's going on Simon?" he demanded with a sudden sinking feeling in his gut.

"Jim, I'm sorry I didn't run this by you first but I know how protective you are of Sandburg and I ..."

Blair was confused. "Wait a minute," he said, cutting of Simon mid sentence. "Will someone please tell me just what the hell is going on here?"

"Blair," Simon replied gently. "I've made an appointment for you with the department's psychologist..."

"YOU DID WHAT!?!" Blair exploded.

Simon put up a warning hand. "Now hear me out Sandburg." Blair stopped ranting so quickly that you could audibly hear his jaw clamp shut. Simon continued, "I should have insisted on this sooner, but it became painfully obvious during the Harper case that you're still experiencing some sort of delayed stress syndrome from the Alessi incident."

"INCIDENT!?!" Blair's look was incredulous. "She tried to beat me to death!" He took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Look Simon, I'll admit it shook me up for a bit, but I'm fine now. I don't need to see a shrink."

"I disagree Sandburg. Your emotions were all over the place during the Harper case..."

"That's what this is all about, isn't it?" Blair ranted. "The fact that I screwed up again and almost got you and Jim killed..."

"I think Simon's got a point here Chief," Ellison spoke up. Blair turned to look at Jim, feelings of pain and hurt clearly evident in his expression. "I've known you to be hyperactive and emotional, but I have never seen you get angry and..."

"Of course I get angry Jim," Blair blurted out, exasperated. "Everyone does."

"But not this much Chief. The slightest thing seems to set you off and it's just getting worse."

"I'm making this an order Blair," Simon told him. "Either you keep your appointment with the department's psychologist, or I'll pull your observer's pass."

"You can't do that!" Blair roared, incensed. "Jim needs me!"

"I can and I will. I'm doing this for your own good..."

"NO!" In a rush of blinding fury, Blair swept the entire contents from Simon's desk. Simon leaped back stunned, as Ellison grabbed Blair's arm. "Well, to hell with you and your good intentions." Blair reached up to yank off his observer's pass.

Ellison grabbed the hand. "I'd think twice about doing that if I were you." Blair looked from Ellison to Banks and then back again, then wrenching his hand from Ellison's grip yanked open the door to Simon's office. He slammed it so hard in his wake that Jim could detect minute cracks in the glass. Simon and Jim exchanged concerned looks.

With a weary sigh, Ellison ran a hand through his short hair. "I'm sorry sir. I'll go have a talk with him."

"Maybe you should give him some time to calm down first," Simon suggested.

"No, knowing Sandburg, if I let this go, he'll just blow it further out of proportion." Ellison started for the door.

"Jim," Simon called and Ellison paused, "you know I don't like doing this but the kid obviously needs help and I wouldn't be doing my duty as his captain or his friend if I ignored this."

Ellison nodded. "I understand Simon. I just hope I can convince him to see it the same way."

The only thing Blair saw was red, so angry was he at the events that had just occurred in Simon's office. Lost in thought, he plowed straight into the broad expanse known as Captain Joel Taggert of Cascade's bomb squad. Joel reached out and, placing a hand on each of Sandburg's upper arms, steadied the obviously upset young man. "Whoa there, Blair, what's wrong?"

"Nothing man," Blair responded, trying to pull out of Taggert's grasp.

He could feel the kid trembling with, judging by the expression on his face, pent up anger. "Don't give me that bull Blair, I just wanna help."

Blair laughed, bordering on hysterical. "Yeah, you and the rest of the fucking department. Just leave me alone."

The door to Simon's office opened and Ellison stepped out. "Sandburg," he called.

Both Blair and Joel looked up at the sound of Ellison's voice. "Shit!" Blair muttered at the sight of his partner. Using the distraction of Jim's entrance, Blair broke loose and was in the elevator heading down to the garage before Taggert could reach out and snag him.

With a frustrated growl, Ellison headed towards the elevator, pulling up short as Taggert blocked his path. Joel's expression was a combination of worry tinged with anger as he demanded, "What's wrong with Sandburg?"

Ellison tried to side step Taggert, only to find the rotund man once again blocking his path. "Joel, I don't have time for this!" Jim saw the other man's set expression. "Look, I know you care about Sandburg. I do too. That's why I have to go after him now!" he said, placing emphasis on the last word.

Taggert studied the anxious detective for a moment then, apparently satisfied, stepped aside allowing Ellison to pass. Deciding not to wait for the elevator, Ellison headed for the stairs.

Joel looked after the disappearing detective and then turned to look at the rest of the occupants currently in Major Crimes. They stood there speechless at the spectacle they had just witnessed. "Would someone mind telling me just what the hell is going on around here?"implored Taggert.

Receiving only blank stares, Joel headed for Simon's office. Not even bothering to knock, he barged in slamming the door soundly behind him. Simon winced at the sound. "What's going on with Sandburg?" Joel demanded to know. With a weary sigh Simon motioned for Taggert to take a seat.

Ellison threw open the stairwell door and stepped into the Cascade P.D. parking garage. He looked to where he had parked his vehicle and, seeing no sign of Sandburg, quickly scanned the rest of the garage. When that revealed no trace of his partner, Ellison extended his search beyond its perimeter. Several moments later, he met with success as he recognized his partner's familiar heartbeat heading away from the station. He grumbled a muffled cursed as he realized Sandburg had taken off on foot. Quickly, and with determination, he strode to his truck.

Blair walked unaware of his surroundings as an overwhelming need to escape unconsciously directed his actions. Unfortunately, his tumultuous thoughts accompanied every step. Reaching the intersection, Blair blindly stepped off the curb, looking up, startled, as the screeching of tires brought him back to his immediate surroundings. The driver's irate shouts and curses were merely unintelligible sounds to Blair as his eyes widened in shock at the close call.

Ellison's mind replayed the scene in Simon's office. He knew Sandburg liked and respected Simon, that's why Sandburg's behavior seemed so uncharacteristic for the normally even tempered police observer. It was just another incident, one of many which had become more and more frequent over the last several months. Ellison was concerned. His partner, friend and guide was slowly self destructing and he didn't have a clue as to why or how to stop it.

Stopping for a traffic light, Jim impatiently drummed his fingers against the steering wheel waiting for the light to change. Searching on ahead, Ellison was rewarded with the sight of his partner approaching a crosswalk. His relief at finding Sandburg so quickly changed to fear as he helplessly watched his friend step off the curb into the path of an oncoming car. Not waiting to see more, Ellison turned on the truck's flashing lights. Checking to make sure the intersection was clear, he immediately maneuvered the vehicle through the intersection and to the site of the incident. Stepping out of the truck, he called Sandburg's name.

At the sound of his name, Sandburg's head popped up releasing him from his paralysis. Already half frightened out of his wits, Blair took one look at Ellison's face, misread his friend's expression and with a gasping sob turned and ran.

"What the hell!?!" A look of astonishment, followed by frustration, flickered across Ellison's face. Climbing back into the truck, he took off after Sandburg, subconsciously keeping one eye on the traffic, his main focus centered on his fleeing partner. He was at a loss to explain Sandburg's actions. Concerned, he concentrated on the bolting figure and heard his guide's heartbeat beating out a rapid tattoo, the strained sound of his breathing. More than the exertion of running was responsible for his friend's condition and James Ellison silently vowed that he would not rest until he found out the cause.

Sharply, he turned the steering wheel to the left as Sandburg suddenly turned down another street and watched helplessly as Blair heedlessly darted out into traffic. Squealing tires and the sound of honking horns could be heard as more than one car swerved to avoid hitting the reckless pedestrian. Somehow Blair miraculously made it across the street unharmed and darted into the park.

Throwing on a blinker, Ellison quickly changed lanes, nearly cutting off another car in the process. Pulling along side the curb, the vehicle had barely come to a stop before he flung open the door and took off in pursuit of his elusive partner. Having lost visual contact, he momentarily paused scanning the area. Finally, he spotted Sandburg and was surprised at how far ahead the young man had gotten. Damn, the kid can really move when he wants to. I'll never be able to catch him on foot unless... He assessed his suspicions. "Yes!" If he went through the children's playground and over the small stone foot bridge, he should be able to cut Sandburg off at the pass.

Ellison raced through the playground, unaware of the strange looks he received from the parents and children alike, and sprinted for the bridge. He spotted Sandburg just off to his left and heading in his direction. Every once in a while he could see the anthropologist glance back as if checking for signs of pursuit, but never slowing his breakneck speed. The path Sandburg was on passed directly under the bridge. Ellison made it to the center of the expanse and waited, poised like a cat preparing to pounce on it's prey. He ducked out of sight as Sandburg moved closer and disappeared underneath the bridge.

Moving to the other side, he stepped up onto the bridge's sidewall and leapt as Blair appeared below. Both men went down in a tangle of arms and legs. Clamping his arms around Blair, they rolled down the small grassy incline, finally coming to a stop at the bottom.

Other than a yelp of surprise when Jim first tackled him, Blair had not uttered a sound. Now he laid within the confines of Ellison's arms gulping in breaths of air. Ellison sat up pulling Sandburg with him. Jim opened his mouth to speak when, without warning, Blair shoved back hard. Having thrown Ellison off balance, Blair quickly scrambled to his feet.

"Oh no you don't!" Jim ground out, grabbing Blair by the back of his belt and yanking him back down. Ellison wrapped his arms around Sandburg's chest in a vice like grip, effectively pinning Blair's arms to his sides at the same time.

"Settle down. It's me. It's Jim." Blair continued to buck and thrash, trying to escape. Damn, he's strong. Jim was having trouble maintaining his grip on the struggling bundle. Jim's "Come on Chief, you're scaring me here" had no calming effect, Sandburg merely increased his efforts to escape. Ellison tightened his hold and began uttering what he hoped were reassuring words. As the minutes ticked by, Blair's struggles grew weaker and weaker, finally ceasing altogether.

Other than unintelligible sounds, the entire time Sandburg had not said a word. Ellison maintained his grip for a few minutes more until he was sure that his friend was really subdued and not just faking it. Tuning his senses onto his partner, he listened as Blair's heartbeat and respiration slowly dropped back within their normal parameters. Ellison cautiously loosened his grip. "You gonna run?" Several seconds passed before Blair shook his head no. "Okay, I'm going to let you go, but I promise you, if you try and make a break for it, you won't get ten feet. You hear what I'm saying?" Another nod.

The minute Ellison released him, Blair scurried away and got unsteadily to his feet. Jim was beside him in an instant offering support. "You okay?" Eyes cast downward, Blair nodded. Ellison frowned. Sandburg's lack of communication was scaring him. "What gives Chief, a cat got your tongue?"

Blair's crystalline blue eyes glanced up to meet Ellison's concerned gaze, then quickly darted away. In the span of that second, Ellison saw reflected in Sandburg's eyes all the young man had been incapable of expressing. The fear, doubt, confusion and sadness. He silently watched as his partner turned and walked a few feet away. Blair wrapped his arms tightly around his torso, the gesture one of someone trying to keep themselves from falling apart. Ellison walked over to Blair and, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, felt the younger man flinch. Ellison started to draw his hand away, then stopped. "I can't help if you don't talk about it." He felt Sandburg tremble beneath his grip. "Chief, you've got five seconds to start talking or I'm taking you to the hospital."

That got a reaction. "NO!" Blair pulled loose and turned to face Jim, his eyes wide with fear.

Ellison gripped Sandburg by the upper arms. "Then start talking because you're really starting to freak me out here Chief."

Blair opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again as a myriad of emotions played across his features. With a heartfelt sigh, he closed his eyes and lowered his head as the words poured forth. "Oh god, I can't believe I talked toSimon like that. He must really be pissed, and as if that wasn't bad enough, I had to act like such a jerk in front of the rest of the guys." Blair groaned at the memory.

"Simon's probably not too pleased with your display," Ellison began. Sandburg snorted at the understated euphemism. "But I'm sure he understands."

Sandburg's head shot up, his eyes alight with anger. "Understands! How can he possibly understand when I don't even know what the hell's going on."

Ellison frowned. "Then don't you think Simon could be right. That you do need to see the psychologist?"

"NO!" Blair shouted, trying to pull away.

"Why not Blair?" Ellison asked, holding fast. "Tell me at least that much."

"What if I screw up?" Again. Both heard the unvoiced fear. "What if I accidentally tell him something about your Sentinel abilities? It's bad enough that Brackett already knows. What if..."

"Whoa! Settle down," Ellison interrupted as his friend became visibly agitated. "There's a lot of what if's in there. I trust you not to say anything Chief and if by some off the wall chance you do let something slip, it doesn't matter."

"How can you say that?" Blair asked, incredulous. "Jim, this is your life we're talking about. You told me yourself what could happen if word of this ever got out..."

"Blair, stop it and listen to me. The only thing that matters right now is getting you some help." Blair was shaking his head no. "Yes!" Jim insisted, then, noting the defiant look on his friend's face, tried another track of persuasion. "What good is being a sentinel if my guide isn't one hundred percent?" Ellison watched as Blair mulled this one over and saw an argument forming. "No, don't even try it Sandburg. You've told me often enough that a sentinel needs his guide."

"Yes, but..."

"No buts about it. It's either all or nothing." Sandburg blanched. "Oh god, Chief! No, I didn't mean it like that." He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, hugging him close. "You're not just my guide. You're my partner, but most importantly, you're my friend. And nothing is ever going to change that. You got that Chief?" Seconds tickedby before Ellison felt a reassuring nod against his chest. "Good. Now as a friend who is worried about you, I want you to promise me that you'll go see the department's psychologist. Can you do that much for me?" Another, longer, pause. "Blair?" Jim's concerned tone spoke volumes with that one word. Finally, Blair nodded. "Thank you," came Ellison's whispered reply.

They stood like that for a few minutes longer. The sentinel offering comfort and security to his guide. Jim noticed they were attracting attention. Personally, he didn't care, the only thing that mattered was his friend. But he knew Sandburg would be mortified at being on display. He released the young man from his embrace. "What do you say we go home?" Blair simply nodded again. With a sigh, Ellison wrapped his arm around Sandburg's shoulder and turned him back towards the truck.

Ellison occasionally snuck furtive glances at his morose friend as the ride back to the loft was fraught with silence. Entering the loft, Blair dropped his keys into the basket by the door, then, walking over to the sofa, flung himself on to it. With a weary sigh, Blair closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch.

Normally Ellison would have chalked up Sandburg's behavior as a delaying tactic to avoid further discussion, but one look at the exhausted features of his partner told him, that at least in this instance, avoidance wasn't the only reason for his reticence.

Tossing his keys on top of Sandburg's, Jim went into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. "Want a beer Chief?"

"No thanks," came the fatigued reply.

Ellison rummaged through the contents on the shelves. "How about something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

Knowing that Sandburg hadn't had time for breakfast, Jim frowned in consternation. "What about a cup of tea then?"

Blair rose from the couch, went into the kitchen, filled the kettle and put it on to heat. That task accomplished, he turned to look at the detective. "Don't you have to get back to work?"

"In case you haven't noticed, it's lunch time and even if you aren't hungry, I am." Jim pulled out one of the color coded Tupperware containers and shut the refrigerator door. He pried open the lid and surveyed the contents within. "You sure you don't want some of this?" he asked, waving the bowl enticingly under Sandburg's nose.

Blair made a face of distaste. "No thanks man."

Ellison sat down the bowl and, taking Blair by the arm, led the younger man back over to the couch. "Well, at least sit down and rest. I'll fix the tea when the water's ready."

"Jim, you don't have to hover, I'm fine," Blair exclaimed, sitting down with an exaggerated huff.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." Ellison grinned, patting him on the cheek. "It's not everyday I make the offer, so just shut up and enjoy the moment."

Blair chuckled softly and threw a mock salute. "Aye, aye sir!"

Ellison was immensely relieved to see a glimmer of humor alight in his guide's eyes. Returning to the kitchen, he set the Tupperware bowl into the microwave to heat, then, searching through the various canisters of tea, selected the blend that Blair had grown particularly fond of over the past couple of months. Measuring out the appropriate amount, he added the hot water and, after allowing it to steep for a few minutes, carefully carried the cup into the living room.

"Here you go," he began, then shook his head in disbelief as he realized that Sandburg had fallen asleep while still sitting up. Placing the tea cup on the coffee table, Jim, taking great care not to wake him, maneuvered the anthropologist into a reclining position. Removing Blair's shoes, he proceeded to cover him with an Afghan.

With a final glance at the sleeping form, Ellison made a quick call to his captain and was relieved when Simon suggested he take the rest of the day off to look after Sandburg. The ding of the microwave signaled that his lunch was ready and as Jim set about eating, he silently hoped that Blair would have an appetite when he woke up. In his opinion, the kid was getting way too thin for it to be healthy.

About three hours later, Jim smelt the familiar odor of Simon's cigars. He quickly hurried to the door, opening it before Simon even had a chance to knock. Putting a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, Ellison nodded towards the sofa where Blair still lay sleeping. Simon nodded in understanding and quietly entered the loft.

Both men retreated to the kitchen. Simon took a sip of the coffee Jim had handed him and grimaced at the decaffeinated taste. Ellison shrugged an apology. Simon looked towards the living room and then back at Ellison. Speaking in low tones to avoid waking Blair, Simon asked, "How's the kid?"

"I don't know Simon," Ellison responded with a weary sigh, and went on to tell him about the events that had transpired since Sandburg had stormed out of the Major Crimes' bullpen earlier that day.

As Ellison finished the story, Simon let out a low whistle. "I don't like the sound of this Jim. It seems like he's just getting worse."

"I know, it's all I can do to keep up with his mood swings anymore."

"Did he at least tell you why he was so adamantly against seeing the department psychologist?" Simon inquired.

Jim explained what little Blair had told him so far, then added, "But I can't help feeling that there is more to it than that. A lot more."

"Maybe he'll tell you the rest after he wakes up."

Ellison shook his head. "I don't know Simon. For someone who likes to talk as much as Sandburg does, it's like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk about this. I just wish..." Ellison paused, listening.

Simon was instantly alert. "What is it Jim?"

"Sandburg, he's having another nightmare." Ellison headed for the living room with Simon close on his heels.

Blair tossed restlessly on the couch, his distress obvious as an occasional plaintive whimper escaped his lips. Jim, unable to bare the thought of his friend suffering through another bad dream, reached out to wake Blair.

"Jim, are you sure that's such a good idea? I thought you weren't suppose to wake people from...."

"I've got to Simon," Jim replied, interrupting. "His heart is pounding like a jack-hammer. I'm afraid he's going to have a coronary if I don't do something." Gently, he shook Sandburg. "Come on buddy, wake up."

Still caught in the throws of his nightmare, Blair struck out. "NO! Don't!" Blair cried out as Ellison grabbed the flailing arms.

"Blair, come on Chief, wake up," Ellison called louder. Blair's eyes shot open, his breath coming in gulps as he tried to back away from the shape looming over him, but Jim held fast. "Take it easy buddy, it's just me."

"Jim?" Blair blinked groggily.

"Yeah Chief, it's me," Ellison repeated, releasing his hold.

"Oh man!" Blair exclaimed, sitting up and hiding his face in his hands.

Jim could still detect shaky tremors coursing through his partner's body. "Bad one?"

"Yeah," he admitted. Lowering his hands, Blair noticed the cup of tea still sitting on the table. With shaky hands, he picked it up and took a sip. Discovering it was stone cold, his expression registered his distaste as he set the cup back down on to the coffee table.

"Sorry about that. Let me heat it up for you," Jim suggested.

Blair looked up towards the sentinel, noticing Simon's presence for the first time. "Hey Simon, I didn't realize you were here..." Blair flashed back on the scene he had made in Simon's office and turned red with embarrassment. His eyes darted away, unable to look the captain in the face.

Simon noted the young man's discomposure. "I was worried about you Sandburg." His deep voice rang with sincerity.

Astonished blue eyes met soft brown ones as Blair's head shot up in surprise. "Um..thanks Simon. I'm really sorryabout earlier man," Blair stammered out an apology. "I don't know why I acted like that. I really am sorry," he repeated.

Between Blair's contriteness and the hang dog expression Sandburg was casting in his direction, there was no way Simon could have remained angry with the police observer, not that he had been mad in the first place, just concerned. He waved off the apology. "I'm not upset with you Blair. Jim told me you're worried about letting this sentinel thing slip..."

"JIM!" Blair protested.

"Sorry Chief. Besides, being a friend, he has a right to know."

Blair grindingly conceded Jim's point as Simon continued, "I want you to know that I have the utmost confidence in your ability to protect Jim's secret, but even if the inconceivable does occur, there is a thing known as doctor / patient confidentiality."

"I never thought of that." Blair took a moment to mull the thought over in his mind then shook his head. "No, it's too great a risk. I mean it's bad enough..."

Ellison grabbed Sandburg's chin and forced the young man to look at him. "I thought we settled this earlier Chief?"

"Come on Jim, surely you didn't mean that!"

"I meant every word of it Blair," Jim told him, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Blair looked towards the captain. "Simon?" he asked hopefully.

Banks shook his head. "Sorry Sandburg, what I said earlier still stands. Either you see the psychologist, or I will pull your observer's pass."

"Okay, fine!" Blair shouted, rising abruptly to his feet. Pushing past an astonished Ellison and Banks, he headed for his room slamming the door soundly behind him. Simon's eyebrows rose in question. Ellison shrugged, unable to supply the answer.

As Jim heard the shower turn on, he reflected back to the conversation from the night before. He and Simon had talked for quite a while after Blair had stormed off to his room and Jim had been surprised to learn that Simon had seriously considered sending him to the department's psychologist as well. "I don't need to see a shrink" had been Jim's immediate response.

"Jim, you and Sandburg are one of the finest teams I've ever had the privilege of working with, but it's obvious you two aren't in sync anymore. It's hurting your working relationship, but more importantly, it's hurting your friendship."

"I realize that Simon, but what does sending me to see the psychologist have to do with it? Sandburg's the one with the problem."

"He's not the only one Jim." Simon held up a hand warding off Ellison's expected tirade. "Now wait a minute, hear me out on this." Ellison folded his arms across his chest, his expression anything but accepting as he nodded for his captain to continue.

"You've admitted yourself that you don't know how to help the kid, that you think there's more going on with Sandburg than the emotional trauma over the Alessi incident." Jim nodded in agreement. "Then don't you think it will help both you and Sandburg if you were to discuss this with a professional?" Simon eyed the detective carefully, then added softly, "And whether you want to admit it or not, I think you've got some demons of your own that need exorcising."

Ellison's head came up sharply. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about guilt Jim. You feel guilty if the kid gets so much as a hang nail while he's working with you."

"For Christ sakes Simon," Jim bellowed as he began pacing the confines of the loft. "Sandburg's been kidnapped, held hostage, shot, tortured and nearly beaten to death," Ellison ticked off the list, "all because of his association with me. How in the hell can I not feel guilty about that?"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't Jim. It's only natural that you would, but maybe the doctor can help you come to terms with the feeling."

"I don't want to come to terms with it Simon. There is nothing all right about the danger Sandburg is put in everyday because of me."

"You're right Jim, there's not. But you're forgetting one thing." Ellison's eyebrows rose in question. "Despite all Sandburg's been through, in the final analysis, it's always been his decision to stay."

"He stays because of his thesis and because I need him to help me control my enhanced senses."

Simon shook his head. "He stays because of friendship. And if the truth were to be told, I think he stays because in some way he needs you as much as you need him."

Ellison paused in his relentless pacing to rub at his throbbing temple. "I don't know about that Simon."

"I do," Simon said with certainty.

A weary sigh escaped Ellison's lips as he curiously eyed his friend. "If you feel so strongly about this why aren't you insisting that I see the psychologist too?"

Simon shrugged. "I figured we'd both have our hands full just getting the kid to go. I didn't want to have to fight with you too." Jim smiled slightly at his captain's reasoning. "But understand this Jim, I haven't completely dismissed the idea."

The sound of the shower shutting off brought Jim back to the present, his brow still furrowed in a frown at the remembered conversation.

"Hurry up Sandburg," he called, setting breakfast onto the table. He silently hoped the younger man was in a more amiable mood. After he had stalked off to his room the night before, Ellison had heard the lock turn and it had remained that way the rest of the night. Several times he nearly knocked on the closed door, only to pull his hand back at the last minute. Blair was obviously upset, but it was equally apparent to him that his friend wanted to be alone. Lord knows he hadn't been happy about it. Part of him wanted to kick the door in. Instead, he resigned himself to monitoring his friend's condition via his sentinel abilities.

It hadn't been an easy night for either of them. Even after Sandburg's perpetual pacing had ceased and the young man had dropped off into a fretful sleep, Jim had continued to listen for several more hours until, finally, sleep claimed him as well.

Ten minutes later, Blair strode into the room. Taking a seat at the table, he flashed Jim a look of gratitude as the older man handed him a steaming cup of tea. Blair had been mortified as he remembered his behavior from the night before. He really didn't want to broach the subject, but he felt he owed Jim, at the very least, an apology.

"Jim--Blair," they spoke simultaneously. Ellison nodded, indicating that Sandburg should go first.

Blair glanced down at his rapidly cooling breakfast, then back up at the man sitting opposite the table from him. He took a deep calming breath and spoke before he lost his nerve. "I really am sorry about last night." Unable to bare the censure he knew would be reflected on his friend's face, he looked away. "I don't know why I keep losing it like that." He shook his head. "Maybe Simon's right..." his voice trailed off with a weary sigh.

An overwhelming need to protect his friend and guide encased Ellison's entire being, but he felt a helplessness unlike he had ever known. Sure, he could protect Blair physically, but he didn't have a clue as to how to help the confused, frustrated, emotionally explosive young man before him.

"Simon, hell, probably all of Major Crimes thinks I'm nuts, huh?"

Blair's desperation was so intense it was almost palatable. Ellison looked into the forlorn, azure colored eyes. My God! He seems so fragile. As if one wrong word from me could shatter him into a million tiny pieces.

Jim had taken too long to respond. "I guess that's my answer," Blair gulped. He pushed away from the table, prepared to rise.

Jim's hand shot out, seizing his forearm. "No, don't," he begged. Blair cautiously sat back down and Jim released his grip. "No one thinks you're crazy." Blair rolled his eyes in disbelief. "But we are worried and, quite frankly Chief, you're scaring the hell out of me. I want to help you but..." Ellison's frustration was evident, "I don't know how."

"You're a cop Jim, not a psychiatrist. You're not suppose to know how to deal with loony tunes."

"Don't ever refer to yourself like that!" Blair was surprised by the vehemence he heard in Ellison's voice. "You are not crazy!"

Blair wondered who Jim was trying harder to convince, himself or Blair.

As Jim maneuvered the truck through the morning traffic, he glanced over at his partner and wondered for the thousandth time if he was doing the right thing. Knowing Sandburg had barely eaten the day before, he had practically begged Blair to eat something, but all the kid had been able to manage was a few bites of toast and a cup of tea. Simon had already set up Sandburg's first appointment with the psychologist and he hadn't told him yet. But hell, the kid reminded him of a high strung colt as it was. Instead, he allowed Blair to believe that they were on their way into the station. However, now, as they neared their actual destination, Jim felt guilty about the subterfuge.

"Jim, you missed the turn off man," Blair's voice brought him back from his inner contemplations.

"We've got another stop to make first Chief," he replied, hoping nothing in his voice betrayed his inner turmoil.

"Oh?" Blair's eyebrows rose in question.

Ellison sighed, debating whether or not to tell Blair the truth. Sandburg began fidgeting nervously beside him.

"Where are we going Jim?"

Pulling up to a stop sign, Ellison looked over at his partner. One look at the expression on Jim's face was all Blair needed as realization dawned. Immediately he reached for the handle and threw open the truck door. Only the seat belt, which in his haste he had forgotten, and Jim's restrictive grip on his arm, prevented him from bolting. Ellison immediately put the truck in park and threw on the emergency flashers.

"You tricked me!" Blair angrily shouted as he frantically tried to get the seat belt undone.

"Blair, please," Ellison implored. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to worry."

Blair finally succeeded in getting the seat belt undone. "Let go, damn it! Blair bellowed furiously, trying to pry Jim's hand lose.

"No, damn it, I won't!" Reaching across Sandburg, Jim yanked the door shut and locked it. He pulled Blair back across the seat with him and wrapped both arms around the young man's chest. Blair inarticulately growled his displeasure. "Settle down Chief, just settle down." Slowly, Blair's struggles subsided, but Jim could still feel the tension rippling through his taunt frame. "I know you're not happy about this..." Blair snorted at the understatement. "But we don't have a choice here. Either you go or Simon pulls your observer's pass and our working relationship is over."

He tried to chose his next words carefully. "And while part of me would be relived that..." He felt Blair stiffen in his arms. "....you wouldn't constantly be placed in danger anymore, there's another part of me that's scared shitless at the thought of being out there without my partner and guide." Sandburg relaxed and Jim felt a rumble of laughter beneath his touch. "What's so funny Chief?"

"You man," Blair replied. "I guess I'm having trouble picturing you scared shitless about anything."

Jim chuckled slightly. "You'd be surprised."

"What scares you Jim?"

There was no hesitation in Jim's reply. "The thought of something happening to you."

Blair heard the sincerity in his sentinel's voice and felt a warmth spread throughout him, but the more he thought about it, analyzed it, the more the coldness of doubt began to creep in. Finally he shook his head in a dismissive gesture. "It's just the sentinel thing man, you're genetically conditioned to worry about your tribe..."

"No! It's a Sandburg thing," Jim insisted. "It's about someone who's managed to worm his way beneath my hardass exterior and into my life, heart and soul." He smiled softly as he felt the heat radiate from Blair's blushing skin. "I'm a better human being for having you in my life Chief." He paused, cocking his head slightly in thought. "In fact, it's because of you I even have a life."

"What do you mean?" Blair asked, unsure.

"If you hadn't found me. If you weren't here to help me understand and control my senses..." his voice trailed off.

Blair grew concerned at Jim's sudden silence. Turning within the confines of Jim's arms, he began to panic at what he saw reflected on his friend's face. "What is it Jim?"

As Ellison's cobalt blue eyes looked up to capture his own, Blair let lose the breath he was holding. "Tell me," he asked again.

"You dubbed me as your Blessed Protector after I saved you from Lash." Blair nodded and Jim smiled. "What you don't seem to realize is you're my Blessed Protector." Blair frowned in confusion. "What I'm trying to say Chief is when my senses went crazy, well, I wasn't handling it very well." Jim snorted at the understatement. "If it hadn't been for you, stepping in when you did, I would have more than likely blown my brains out."

"NO!" Blair's eyes widened in shock.

"Yes," Jim insisted. "Your help was the only thing that brought me back from that brink of insanity."

"Oh man!" Blair breathed out in a sigh. "Jim, man, I knew you were kind of freaked out, but I never realized..."

"You literally saved my life the day you walked into it." Ellison studied the young man closely and could visualize the gears turning in Sandburg's brain as he processed this latest bit of information. At least the hurt, angry expression isgone, Ellison thought. "So are we okay here Chief? Can you forgive me for deceiving you?"

A reluctant ghost of a smile appeared. "Yeah, but don't think you're always going to be able to sweet talk your way out of these things." Blair frowned. "I don't like being lied to Jim."

"I know. I'm sorry," Ellison contritely replied. "Now buckle up, we're already late." Silently he breathed a sigh of relief as Sandburg complied without further incident.

Blair lagged slightly behind the detective as they approached the receptionist's desk. Normally Blair would have reacted to the perky little blonde by turning on the famous Sandburg charm, instead his eyes deliberately ignored her as he feigned interest in the office decor.

On their approach, the young woman quickly checked the appointment calendar. "Good morning Gentlemen," she smiled up at them. "Which one of you is Mr. Sandburg?"

"Um... that'd be me," Blair stammered, nervously.

The receptionist rose and stepped out from behind her desk. "If you would follow me please, the doctor has been waiting for you." As she started down the short corridor, Jim had to physically nudge Blair in order to get him moving. After knocking on the doctor's door to announce their presence, she ushered the two men into the office. Flashing them a final smile, she quietly shut the door behind her on the way out.

At the sight of the elegantly dressed woman, Blair blanched and immediately ducked behind Jim's ample frame. Ellison, sensing his friend's motion, stepped forward to great the woman as she crossed the room towards them.

She stood about five foot seven inches tall, without the heels, and was of medium build. Noting the tiny lines around her vivid green eyes, wide shaped mouth and the silver strands of gray streaking her chignoned light brown hair, Jim thought she was extremely attractive and youthful looking for a woman he estimated to be in her late forties, early fifties.

He flashed her one of his most charming smiles. "Forgive me for staring Ma'am, it's just that we were expecting Dr. Graham..."

Her voice was crisp and authoritative. "Dr. Graham was killed in an automobile accident about a month ago. I'm Dr. Katherine Raines, his replacement."

Jim shook her proffered hand, holding it a moment longer than was necessary. Reluctantly, he let it go. "I'm Detective James Ellison and this," he reached around, pulling Blair from behind him, "is Blair Sandburg."

The psychologist stepped past Jim and although she didn't attempt to shake his hand, as she had done with Ellison, she did smile warmly at the reticent younger man. "It's a pleasure to meet you Blair," she told him, her voice full of warmth and sincerity. "Please," she said, indicating one of the dark brown, high backed, overstuffed chairs, "make yourself comfortable."

As Blair continued to stand where he was, the doctor turned and arched an eyebrow at Jim. "You do realize, Detective, that Mr. Sandburg's sessions are to be strictly private and confidential. I'll have to ask you to leave."

Ellison glanced down at Blair, not liking what the quick sensory check of his friend's vital signs were telling him. He looked back at the doctor and arched an eyebrow of his own in retaliation. "I think that it's Sandburg's choice whether I stay or go," he told her coldly.

They both turned, fixing their gaze on Blair. Oh God! They want me to decide, Blair thought as his eyes nervously darted from Jim to the doctor and then back again. On the one hand, he didn't feel comfortable with the psychologist and wanted Jim to stay. On the other hand, he didn't want Jim to hear the truth about what a totally insecure neurotic he was becoming.

He tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing several times. A picture of a gulping fish out of water flashed across Ellison's mind. He shook off the image as Blair finally blurted out, "I can't do this!" He turned away and started for the door.

Jim reached out and, snagging his partner's wrist, pulled him aside. Speaking in low tones, he told Blair, "You can and you will." Blair refused to meet his gaze. Ellison sighed. "I tell you what Chief, I'll wait for you in the outer office. That way I'll be close if you need me, but you'll still have your privacy."

Blair nervously shifted from one foot to the other. "Um, Jim..."

"I promise you, I won't listen," he answered Blair's unvoiced question and felt the younger man relax. Jim smiled. "So if you need me, you're going to have to holler really loud, okay?"

"I can do that," Blair assured him, a faint trace of humor sparkling in his expressive blue eyes.

They turned back towards the doctor, who stood there observing them, her arms crossed in annoyance. "Are we finished Gentlemen?"

For some inexplicable reason, they felt like two naughty school boys called before the principle. Jim didn't like the feeling. "I am, how about you Chief?"

Blair's eyes widened at Jim's audacity. He nodded once and, turning away, he bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"I'll be outside if you need me," Jim assured Blair one final time, then started for the door.

The doctor's crisp voice spoke up. "You may not find it advantageous to wait Detective. I've cleared my entire morning for Mr. Sandburg's session."

"Not a problem," Ellison dead panned as he cast Blair a quick wink and reassuring smile on his way out.

Blair momentarily stared at the door that his partner had just left through, then reluctantly turned to face the doctor. Once again she motioned for Blair to take a seat. "Let's get started shall we?"

Rigidly, he sat in the chair the doctor had indicated as she sat in it's duplicate across from him. On a small, round, coffee like table between them, Blair noticed a sterling silver tea set. She observed his interest. "May I offer you some tea?" Blair nodded his assent. "I've studied your file very carefully Blair," she told him as she poured and served the steaming beverage. "I must say, I was very impressed."

Blair took the offered cup, the minute shaking of his hands barely noticeable. He looked up questioningly. "Why?"

She picked the file up from the table and, settling back in the chair, motioned for him to drink up. "Aside from your most outstanding academic career, according to what I've read, it indicates that you have been instrumental in helping to solve a number of cases in your capacity as a police observer. You appear to have become quite an asset to the department."

Unsure of how to respond, Blair sipped the tea and did a double take at its familiar flavor.

"You approve?" Dr. Raines asked.

Blair smiled, delighted. "It's my favorite, but I'm surprised you know of it. The only place I know of that carries it is an obscure shop in China Town."

"I'm familiar with the place. I often go there in search of herbs and other items not found in your more conventional places." Blair nodded his understanding.

Blair shifted nervously in the silence that followed. When the doctor smiled knowingly at Blair's obvious delaying tactic, he felt an irrational urge to run. He really didn't want to talk about this with anyone. And this woman, with the soul searching eyes, sitting across from him, unnerved him for some unknown reason. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably as images of Andrea Alessi flashed across his mind. He closed his eyes, trying in vain to shut out the memories. STOP IT! he mentally berated himself. There is nothing even remotely similar about the two women. Making a conscious effort to calm down, he heard his name being called as if from far away.

"Blair, are you all right?"

He forced the vestiges of the nightmare away. Tuning back in to his immediate surroundings, he realized that the tea cup had been removed from his grasp and that a comforting hand now rested on his arm. He shuddered and looked up into the concerned face of the psychologist. "I'm sorry Dr. Raines," he stammered an apology. "I'm fine."

Her green eyes bore into his. "No, you're not. But we're going to see about fixing that,"she told him with firm conviction. "And I suggest we start by you calling me Katherine."

"I can do that," Blair acknowledged with a nervous chuckle.

"Good." Katherine sat back with a smile of satisfaction. "Now, I understand that you've had more than one traumatic experience while working with the police department." She consulted her files. "There was the incident with David Lash and, more recently, Andrea Alessi. I want you to tell me about them Blair."

Blair's respiration increased upon the mere mention of the names. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I don't know where to start."

"Say whatever first comes into your mind and go on from there." She looked at him expectantly.

Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, he picked up the cup of tea, sipping it slowly. Carefully he sat the cup back down on to the table and, taking a deep calming breath, he began to speak...

Realizing that he had been staring at the same page for the last forty five minutes, Ellison tossed the magazine back onto the pile. He glanced at his watch and wondered, not for the first time that morning, just what was going on behind those closed doors. In the nearly three hours that had passed, Jim's thoughts and feelings had waffled between relief, that his friend was finally getting some professional help to deal with his traumatic experiences, and concern at the thought of what having to dredge up those experiences again was going to do to him.

More than once, he had been tempted to break his word to Sandburg and listen, barely succeeding in topping himself just in time before the temptation got the better of him. Blair had trusted him not to listen. At the very least, he owed it to Blair not to betray that trust. Still, never a patient man, the waiting, wondering and worrying were beginning to take their toll on him.

As if in response to his silent entreaty, Jim heard the doctor's office door open. He was on his feet in an instant. Now that the session was over, Jim considered all bets off and, with the aid of his Sentinel abilities, he carefully examined his partner, who was chatting amenably with the doctor as they traversed the short corridor to the outer office. Jim was amazed at the significant changes his senses detected. Blair's heart rate and respiration were well within their normal parameters and the confusion and anxiety he had begun to associate with Blair over the past few months were nowhere in evidence. Jim hadn't realized how tense he had become until he felt his body reflexively relax as his brain processed the results of Blair's condition.

"I'm very pleased with your progress," the doctor was telling Blair as they reached the outer office. "You keep working as hard as you've done today and it won't be long before my services are no longer required."

Blair blushed slightly at the implied praise. "I don't know about that," he replied, doubtfully. "I've got a lot of baggage to deal with."

"Well, we'll just have to see if we can't manage to lose some of that baggage," the doctor responded.

"What do I look like, an airline?" Blair quipped, his blue eyes dancing in amusement.

The doctor's rejoining laughter floated out, filling the office. It abruptly ceased as her eyes fell on Jim. "Detective Ellison, I see you're still here."

"I told you I would be," Jim replied, surprised by the dislike he felt emanating from her. He turned to his partner. "We done here Chief?"

The laughter that had been in Blair's eyes mere moments before suddenly died as he registered Jim's presence for the first time.

Jim frowned in concern. "You okay?"

"Um...yeah." Blair shook off a fleeting sensation. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I asked if you were ready to go."

Blair's eyes immediately sought those of Dr. Raines. She smiled pleasantly. "I'll see you on Thursday Blair."

Jim's consternation was evident as he observed the looks the two exchanged. He tugged on Sandburg's sleeve. "Let's go Chief, we've got work to do." Blair allowed himself to be led over and onto the elevator. "You want to tell me what that was all about?" Ellison confronted Blair the moment the doors shut behind them.

"What?" Blair looked up, confused. He studied Ellison's features and snorted with amusement when he concluded what Jim must be thinking. "Aw, come on man, she's old enough to be my mom!" Cocking his head in thought, he eyed Jim speculatively. "Of course, she is an attractive woman and you could do worse..." Blair bobbed his eyebrows suggestively.

"What are you talking about?" Jim frowned down at him.

"Come on Jim, I saw the way you were looking at her."

Fortunately, at least in Jim's opinion, the elevator reached their destination saving him from the necessity of responding.

Other than a quick stop at the deli for lunch, the trip back to the station was unusually silent. Blair appeared to be caught up in his own thoughts, allowing Jim time to turn his attention to his own about Dr. Raines. Granted, Blair was her patient and, therefore, should be the recipient of her attention, however, that didn't explain the feeling of animosity he had sensed directed at him. He sighed. I don't know, he thought. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. Sandburg seems to like her well enough and that's all that should matter. And since when is Blair's judgment the criteria forjudging a person's character? his mind taunted.

Jim grew angry at where his thoughts were taking him. Even for him, that was a low blow and the kid certainly didn't deserve it. Unlike him, Blair didn't prejudge people based on appearances and most of the time, his assessment of someone's character hit pretty close to home. It was only when Blair's child like naivete or the young man's raging hormones came into play that his assessments would prove inaccurate.

Jim wondered briefly if jealousy could possibly be the motivating factor for his unease, but quickly dismissed the thought. He knew that Blair's looks, sense of humor, intellect and compassionate personality combined to create an individual that inexplicably attracted people to him like a moth to a flame. He had never begrudged Blair that character trait, quite the contrary, it never ceased to amaze him. So why, then, was he so disturbed about Dr. Raines' attitude towards him and Blair's reaction to her?

"Earth to Ellison... Come on Jim, snap out of it."

The sound of his guide's voice brought him back to his immediate surroundings. "What?" he asked, his mind still somewhat befuddled.

"I said, we're here man. Where have you been for the last five minutes?" Blair's concern was clearly etched on his face. "Was it a zone out?"

Jim grinned, somewhat chagrined, as he first took note of his friend's concern and then his surroundings. "No zone out Chief, just thinking."

"Want to talk about it?" Blair asked.

Jim considered the offer, but how could he explain what was troubling him to Blair when he didn't even understand it himself. "Thanks anyway Chief, but there's nothing to talk about." He undid his seat belt and popped open the truck door, effectively ending the conversation.

Upon entering the floor that housed the department known as Major Crimes, Blair headed off to the restroom while Jim went to check in with the captain. In response to Ellison's knock, Simon looked up from the file he was reading and motioned for Ellison to enter. "So how'd it go?" Simon inquired, closing the file.

Jim shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

Simon's eyebrow rose in question. "You guess?"

"Sandburg was a little nervous at first, but he seems to like her." Simon's other eyebrow rose to join the first at the mention of the word her. Jim quickly explained the details.

"I'm sorry to hear about Dr. Graham, but the situation with Sandburg sounds promising." He fixed the detective with a knowing stare. "So what's the problem?"

Once again, Jim tried to put his finger on just what it was that was bothering him and, once again, it eluded him. He sighed his frustration. "I don't know Simon. I wish to hell I did."

Realizing he wasn't going to get anymore out of Jim, Simon turned his attention to the business at hand. "At any rate, I'm glad you're back. There has been another robbery down on the waterfront. This time the Phillips Fish Packing Plant was hit. They made off with the weeks payroll."

"I thought the robbery division was handling the waterfront thefts," Jim said.

"They were, but another security guard was killed and, at the mayor's urging, the Commissioner decided to reassign the case to his most prominent detective. That would be you," Simon dead panned.

Ellison grimaced at Simon's attempted humor and took the file that Simon held out to him. "We'll get on it right away," he assured the captain.

"I'd appreciate it. The Commissioner wasn't too happy about this morning's delay for your services." Simon glanced through the windows of his office, searching the bullpen for the anthropologist. "Where is Sandburg anyway?"

"He should be here in a minute." Jim glanced at his watch, noted the passage of time and frowned. "It shouldn't be taking him this long. I'll go see what the delay is."

Recalling his behavior the day before, Blair had motioned for Jim to go on ahead while he had ducked into the men's room. He needed a few minutes to gather his composure and to formulate the apology he knew he owed Simon.

Blair finished drying his hands and tossed the paper towel into the trash. Taking a deep steadying breath, he glanced into the mirror above the sink and was startled by the reflection he saw there. He summoned a smile. "Hey Jim, I didn't hear you come in." When Ellison failed to respond, Blair frowned in confusion and turned to face his best friend. He felt the hairs on the nape of his neck bristle as he closely studied Ellison's features. What he saw there terrified him. It was pure, unadulterated hate and anger. Must be a zone out, Blair thought. "Jim, snap out of it," he instructed in what Jim had termed as his guide voice. There was no response and Blair began to fidget anxiously. "Come on man, you're scaring me."

He stepped forward, reaching out with the intention of guiding the zoned sentinel back with touch, and grunted in surprise as, with both hands, Jim grabbed him by the shirt front and rammed him backward. Blair felt pain shoot through his hip as it contacted soundly with the edge of the sink. "Jim, what the hell!" Any further words were cut off as Jim yanked him forward and then hurled him sideways, face first, into the far wall.

Blair's mind vaguely registered the various impact points of pain where his body had truck the wall. Placing one hand on the wall to steady himself, he turned to face the sentinel and was horrified to see the crazed expression on Jim's face. Tiny pin pricks of light spotted Blair's vision as he fought not to loose consciousness. He held out his other hand in an attempt to ward off the man slowly advancing towards him. "Jim, please, no!" As Blair's legs finally refused to support him any longer, he dropped first to his knees, then pitched forward. His last conscious vision was that of Jim's shoes still moving towards him.

"Jim, please, no!" It was these anguished words of his guide that Jim heard as he approached the men's room. Alarmed, he quickened his pace and threw open the door. He gapped in astonishment at the sight of his friend lying, apparently unconscious, on the floor. "Call 911," he shouted to a passerby and quickly moved to kneel beside Blair.

By the time Jim had carefully maneuvered Blair over onto his back and had begun checking the younger man's vital signs, a small crowd had gathered at the door. Simon pushed his way through. "Jim, what's this I hear about ... Dear Lord!" Simon muttered at his first sight of Sandburg. "Jesus Jim, what happened?"

"I don't know Simon," Ellison growled in frustration and concern. "I heard him call out and when I came in, I found him like this."

Simon watched as Jim continued his careful examination of Blair. Other than the obvious goose egg sized lump on Sandburg's forehead, Simon couldn't discern any other injuries. "How is he?"

"I'm not sure." Jim glanced up, prepared to enlighten his captain on what his heightened senses had revealed regarding Sandburg's condition, but the presence of the small congregation clustered in the doorway prevented him from elaborating further.

"Coming through," a voice called out and the bystanders parted to admit the paramedics. Reluctantly, Jim moved aside, allowing them access to his partner.

Even as they began to examine Blair, Jim inspected the restroom for any evidence of what may have occurred.

"You got something Jim?" Simon questioned as he noticed Ellison's sudden interest in the far wall.

Jim moved closer and ran his hand lightly over an indentation on the wall that only he, using his enhanced senses, could detect. "I think this is what Sandburg hit his head on."

"You think he could have slipped?" Simon suggested.

"No Sir," Jim replied, carefully scanning the floor. "I don't see anything he could have slipped on."

"Then you think someone attacked him?"

Jim shook his head. "I didn't see anyone come out of here and Sandburg was the only one in the room when I got here." Any further speculation was cut short as Jim heard his partner moan. "Sandburg?" he questioned, moving to once again kneel beside him. "Come on buddy, I know you're in there. Open your eyes."

"Jim?" Blair queried as his long lashes fluttered open.

Jim smiled with relief. "Yeah Chief, it's me."

"What happened?" Blair asked, still somewhat dazed.

"We were hoping you could tell us that," Simon spoke up.

Acknowledging the captain's presence with a slight smile, Blair searched his memory, coming up blank. "I don't know," he replied, disturbed by the void he found there.

"Think Chief, what's the last thing you can remember?"

Trying to do as Jim requested, Blair willed himself to relax and concentrate. Thoughts and images began forming. "I remember coming in here because I wanted a few minutes to figure out how I was going to apologize to Simon for my behavior yesterday."

The two older men exchanged looks. "And?" Jim prompted.

Blair tried to remember past that point. He began to grow more and more agitated as the memory continued to elude him. "Damn it! I can't..."

"It's okay. Just settle down Chief. Just give it time, it'll come to you."

"Short term memory loss isn't uncommon in cases like this," one of the paramedics assured them.

Jim followed as Simon pulled the paramedic aside, out of Sandburg's hearing range. "So, how is he?" Simon asked.

"He has multiple bruising, including a severe one to his hip, and a possible concussion. They'll be able to tell you more once they've run some test at the hospital."

"But you don't think it's serious?" Simon probed deeper.

"In my professional opinion, no."

Relieved, Simon thanked the paramedic and reluctantly turned to Ellison. "Jim, about the case..."

"What about it?" Jim asked, suddenly suspicious.

"The Commissioner really wants you on this one."

"What do you want from me Simon," Jim asked, more than a little annoyed at Simon's tactlessness. "Sandburg's hurt."

"The medic said it wasn't serious..."

"In his opinion," Ellison interrupted, cutting Simon off. "Personally, I'd feel better hearing that from a doctor and, as someone I thought was Sandburg's friend, I would think you'd feel the same way."

"Jim ..."

"No Simon."

It was times like this Simon despised being the one in charge. "I could make that an order detective."

"Yes Sir, you could."

Simon involuntarily shuddered beneath the granite like gaze Ellison directed at him and relented. "Aw hell, go see to your partner. I'll put the Commissioner off somehow."

With an abrupt nod, Ellison returned to Sandburg's side. The paramedics had already placed him onto the stretcher and were just securing the last strap to hold him in place. Blair looked up, eyes pleading. "Jim, tell them this isn't necessary, I'm fine."

He knew how much Sandburg hated hospitals and could commiserate, but he had to make sure Blair was okay. "Sorry Chief, I think we'd better get you checked out..."

"But..."

Jim held up a staying hand.

Blair wanted to offer further protest, but the look of determination on Ellison's face convinced him it wouldn't get him very far. "Okay, fine," he acquiesced, his tone petulant.

"Look Chief, considering how thick your skull is, I'm sure you'll be fine. But just to be on the safe side, we'll get you checked out and still probably make it home in time for supper. So what do you say?"

Blair considered Ellison's words. "I'm not sure, but I think I was just insulted."

Jim started to apologize but then, catching sight of Blair's grin, realized the younger man was teasing him. "You'd better behave Chief or they just might find a reason to keep you over night."

"You wouldn't?" Blair challenged with mock dread at Jim's implied threat.

Ellison merely grinned.

"You would!" Blair gaped, astounded.

With a final comforting pat on the arm, Ellison rose and nodded to the paramedics.

"I'm not going to forget this Jim. And another thing..." Blair rambled on as they wheeled him out.

"I still think.." Jim began.

"NO!" Blair was adamant. "Damn it, we've already been over this. Two people have been killed Jim. How are you going to feel if someone else dies because of the time we've already wasted?"

They had spent over three hours in the emergency room before Blair had finally been released. Jim knew the doctor had wanted to keep Sandburg overnight for observation, but the doctor, having dealt with the young man on several previous occasions, knew the futility of such a request. So he had taken his tests everything from x-rays to a complete blood work up, written several prescriptions, which he knew Blair wouldn't fill, let alone take, recited the instructions regarding concussions, which they already knew by heart, and sent them on their way.

Damn it, Jim thought. I should have never even mentioned the case to Sandburg. I knew he'd insist on proceedingwith the investigation. Jim smiled inwardly, recalling Blair's words regarding guilt. The kid knows me better thanI do. He wasn't sure whether to be comforted by that thought. On the one hand, it was reassuring to know that there was someone who knew you well enough to anticipate and understand your thoughts, motives and needs, even when you didn't understand them yourself.

On the other hand, it was disconcerting knowing that someone had that knowledge. That if they wanted to, they could use it against you, manipulate you. He didn't like feeling that vulnerable. Still, he silently mused, looking over at his partner, if it had to be anyone, he was glad it was Sandburg. The kid didn't have a malicious bone in his body.

Although Blair was trying to hide it, the tell tale signs of a major headache were evident in his dawn-pinched features and, once again, Jim felt guilty. Sandburg needed to be home resting, not out gallivanting around with him. And then there was still the question of just what had happened in the rest room.

"Let it go Jim," came the quietly forceful voice. "We both know there's no other option."

Yeah, he knew that too. But that didn't mean he had to like it.

They entered the fish packing plant by way of the loading dock. Jim coughed violently as the stench overpowered him. Blair, ever alert to his Sentinel's needs, instructed Jim to dial down his sense of smell until he had found a comfortable level. "You okay?" Blair asked, as Ellison's eyes eventually stopped watering.

Jim wiped away the tears. "Yeah, it's better now," he replied, then began to survey the area, mentally cataloging the various activities going on around them. Reaching out, he snagged one of the workers and, flashing his badge, asked to see the foreman. Indicating that they should follow, the man took them over to the base of a metal staircase whichlead to the second floor, glass enclosed office and motioned for them to go on up. With a nod of thanks, Ellison started up towards the office.

His body already felt as if it had gone ten rounds. Blair took one look at the imposing staircase and silently groaned. Jim paused, turning to look back as he realized Sandburg wasn't following. "Right behind you big guy," Blair assured him, manufacturing a smile for Jim's benefit, hoping he'd continue on up, allowing Blair to follow at his own pace. No such luck. Leaning against the railing, Jim crossed his arms and waited. One look at Jim's set expression told Blair the older man hadn't bought his act for a minute. "Great, just great," he muttered under his breath, then, reaching for the railing, began the slow, painful process of climbing the stairs. More than once, Blair had to bite down on his lips to stifle a verbal exclamation of pain as his body protested. Finally, coming abreast of Jim on the stairs, Blair kept his head bowed, hoping to avoid another verbal tongue lashing.

Jim shook his head at his partner's sheer pigheaded determination, hooked an arm around the younger man's waist and helped him the rest of the way up the stairs.

As they reached the second floor landing, the foreman could be seen pacing back and forth in his office, obviously arguing with someone over the phone. At Jim's knock, he quickly ended the conversation and gestured for them to enter.

"I'm Detective James Ellison and this is my partner, Blair Sandburg," Jim informed the man. "We're here to investigate last night's robbery."

"Brock Peters," the man introduced himself. "I honestly don't know what more I can tell you Detective. I already gave my statement to the officers this morning. Not to mention the fact," he added with unmistakable annoyance, "that your forensics people already went over this place with a fine tooth comb."

"We realize that Mr. Peters and I'm sorry about the additional inconvenience, but a security guard was murdered during the course of the robbery. I would think you'd want to do everything within your power to assure that the people responsible are apprehended."

"My apologies Detective," he replied, suddenly solicitous. "It's just that Mike's death has hit us all pretty hard."

"You knew the security guard?" Blair asked.

"Every one did," Peters replied. "Mike has been the night watchman for the Phillips Fish Packing Plant for the past fifteen years. It just won't be the same without him around."

Ellison frowned. Something in the man's tone just wasn't ringing true. He glanced over at Sandburg to see if his partner sensed the same thing. Blair's raised eyebrows told him that he had picked up on the man's insincerity as well.

Jim wanted to get a better look at the office without Peters being around. "We'll need a copy of all the employees files," he told the foreman.

"Certainly," he replied, reaching for the phone. "I'll just call my secretary and have her pull them."

Jim laid his hand on the phone. "If you wouldn't mind giving her a hand. We're in kind of a hurry."

Anger flashed in Peters' eyes. He quickly moved to suppress it, but not before Jim had seen it. "Yes, of course. If you gentlemen would excuse me."

Both nodded then held their collective breaths until Peters left the office through the rear door. "I don't know Jim," Blair said. "Something smells mighty fishy around here if you ask me."

Jim gently cuffed him along side the head. "Very funny Junior, but I think you're right." Taking advantage of Peters' absence, Jim went to examine the open safe while Blair, trying to make himself useful, began rummaging through the contents on Peters' desk.

They searched for nearly twenty minutes before Jim's enhanced hearing warned them that Peters was coming back. By the time Peters entered the office, Jim was leaning nonchalantly by the door, while Blair had struck a similar pose near the desk.

Peters eyed them both warily. "Here you go Detective," he told Jim, handing over the files.

"Thank you, the Cascade P.D. appreciates your cooperation." He turned to Blair. "Let's go Chief." Jim opened the door, allowing Blair to precede him, then turned back to Peters. "One last question. Who, besides yourself, has a key to this office?"

Despite his cavalier attitude, Jim smelt the aroma he had come to associate with fear emanating from Peters. "Just Mr. Phillips, the owner of the company. Oh, and Mike would also have had a key," Peters added as an afterthought.

"I see," Jim replied thoughtfully. "Well, thank you again for your time. I'm sure we'll be in touch."

Blair was fairly bursting at the seams to ask Jim what he thought about Peters but managed to contain himself until they were back in the truck. "So Jim, do you think Peters is involved some how?"

"I'd bet my badge on it Chief."

"So what do we do now?"

Jim started the truck. "First, I'm taking you back to the loft and then I'm going to head over to the station to see what I can dig up on our friend Peters."

"You can forget the stop at the loft, I'm coming with you."

"Damn it Sandburg," Jim growled, exasperated, "you need to rest!"

"I'm fine Jim."

"No you're not."

"Look, either I come with you or I come after you, it's your choice man, but either way I am going to help."

"SANDBURG!" Jim warned.

"JIM," Blair retaliated, then sat back smugly as Ellison flicked on the truck's turn signal and headed for the station.

They did make one stop on their way back to the station. Having already acquiesced about letting Blair come to the station, Jim had insisted on stopping to pick up some Chinese take out.

Things were pretty quiet as they finally entered Major Crimes which suited Blair. He was more than a little embarrassed at the events of the past two days and really didn't feel like facing the others just yet.

He was anxious to get to work. The sooner they got started, the sooner he could go home and collapse. God, but hefelt like shit. The former rhythmic pounding in his head had merged to become one continuous ache and he was arduously reminded of the severe blow his hip had sustained every time he took a step. At the moment there was nothing he wanted more than to lay down and sleep for a year. But aside from the fact that he wanted to help nailwhoever was responsible for the waterfront robberies and murders, more importantly, he didn't want to let Jim down again. He had done far too much of that already.

He started towards Jim's desk only to be brought up short as Ellison grabbed him by the elbow and steered him in the direction of the break room. "First we eat, then we work."

"I'm not hungry."

"Understand this Chief," Jim said, turning Blair to face him, "either you eat or I'm dragging your sorry looking butt out of here."

Blair took one glimpse at the look of determination on Jim's face and knew there was no way he was going to win this one. "Okay, fine," Blair responded with his best put upon sigh, motioning for the older man to precede him. None to pleased, but resigned none the less, Blair shuffled along behind Jim towards the break room.

Glancing up, Blair noticed that Simon was still in his office. Well there's no time like the present. "Jim, you go on ahead man, I'll be with you in a minute. There's something I need to take care of."

Thinking that Sandburg was merely resorting to another evasion tactic, Ellison started to protest, then noticed the direction of Blair's gaze. He knew his partner was regretting the way he had spoken to the captain the day before. "Okay Chief, just don't be too long, the food will get cold."

Blair shot Jim a look of appreciation for his understanding and made his way over to Simon's office. Wiping the sweat from his palms, Blair quickly knocked before his courage could flee.

"Come." He heard the captain's voice call out and, taking a deep breath, entered the office, quietly closing the door behind him. The soft glow of the desk lamp reflected off of Simon's glasses as he finished reading a report and looked up to see who had entered. "Sandburg," he acknowledged, then winced sympathetically as he noted the vivid black and blue lump on Blair's forehead. Simon gave a low whistle. "That's gotta hurt."

Blair glanced up for the first time since entering Simon's office. At his look of confusion, Simon nodded towards the injury. Unconsciously, Blair's hand reached up to probe the tender area. "It's nothing." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a clear indication that he had something on his mind.

"What are you doing here Sandburg? I thought for sure Jim took you home hours ago."

"Um, no Sir. We went by the Phillips Fish Packing Plant so Jim could take a look at the crime scene and now we're getting ready to run background checks on the employees. But, um, that's not why I'm here, in your office, I mean."

"Oh?" Simon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Blair nervously shifted again. "Ah, Simon, about yesterday. I just wanted to apologize..."

His voice trailed off as Simon rose from behind his desk and came around it to stand in front of the anthropologist. "Blair, look at me," Simon gently commanded when Sandburg refused to meet his gaze. Blair looked up hesitantly. Once he was certain he had the young man's attention, Simon continued, "You were concerned about revealing Jim's secret and I can understand that. But you've been under a lot of pressure over the last several months, not to mention severely traumatized and if you think for one minute I'm going to stand around and do nothing while a friend of mine self destructs, then you're sadly mistaken."

Blair shook his head. No, I couldn't have heard Simon right. "Friend?" he asked aloud.

"Did I say friend?" Simon frowned with feigned confusion.

"Yep, you definitely used the "F" word," Blair assured him. "I heard you."

"You sure about that Sandburg?" Simon asked with a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You sure you didn't just imagine it?"

"Hey, no fair making fun of the psychotically impaired Simon," Blair huffed, then unable to maintain the facade, grinned.

With a shake of his head, Simon chuckled. "Sandburg, you really are a piece of work."

Blair's grin grew wider. "Funny you should say that Simon, that's what the women I date usually say the first time they see me ..."

Simon rolled his eyes. "Spare me," he pleaded.

"You sure Simon?" Blair asked, thoroughly enjoying their lighthearted banter. "You really don't know what you're missing..."

"I don't want to hear about it," Simon replied with a pained expression. Blair snickered.

With a sharp rap on Simon's door, Jim stuck his head into the office. "What, you guys decided to throw a party and didn't invite me? I'm crushed."

"Jim, come on in," Simon invited, smiling.

"No thanks Simon. I just wanted to see what was taking Sandburg so long, the food's getting cold."

Simon looked at Blair. "I think we're done here."

"Yeah," Blair concurred with a nod. "Thanks Simon."

"Don't mention it kid and I really mean that."

"I don't know Simon," Blair seemed to consider the request.

"Sandburg, don't you have some work to do?"

"Aye, aye, Sir," Blair responded with a saucy salute.

Jim chuckled at their antics. "Hey Simon, you want to join us? There's more than enough for three."

"Why not," Simon agreed. "I could use the break."

"Great," Ellison and Sandburg responded enthusiastically in unison.

"Wonderful," Simon moaned as he followed them into the break room. "Just what I need, Sandburg in stereo."

Considering the menacing glares Jim had been directing at him for the last ten minutes, Blair, despite feeling queasy every time he looked at the food, had really tried to force the nausea aside and eat something, but to no avail.

Concerned, Jim's patience finally snapped. "Sandburg, if you don't start eating, I swear I'm going to feed you myself."

In a gesture of defiance, Blair pushed the barely touched food container away. "Damn it Jim, I told you I wasn't hungry." Shoving back his chair, Blair rose from the table.

Jim put a staying hand on his arm. "Look, I'm sorry I lost my temper, but you've got to get some food in your stomach if you're going to take these." Jim pulled two prescription bottles baring Sandburg's name from his pocket and sat them on the table.

Blair saw the medication and looked angrily up at Ellison. "When did you get those?"

"While we were at the hospital. The doctor called them into the pharmacy while you were getting dressed and one of the nurses gave them to me before we left."

"I don't believe this!" Blair was incensed. How dare they go behind my back and treat me as if I were some kind of child. "Well guess what Jim," anger punctuated every word. "I don't have to eat because I have no intention of taking the damn pills." He shook off Jim's hand and stormed from the room.

"That went well," Simon sighed.

No longer hungry, Jim pushed aside his own food. "I don't get it Simon. He's obviously in pain, so why won't he take the medication?"

Simon shrugged. "You've told me yourself that the kid prefers natural remedies."

"Yeah, well, the natural remedies aren't here, these are." Rising, he snatched up the bottles. "And he is going to take them, even if I have to ram them down his throat."

"Jim..." Simon warned.

"Don't worry Simon, I'll try giving the brat one last chance before I resort to strong arm tactics." Ellison slammed the door on his way out.

Simon cringed as the door rattled on it's hinges, then pushed away his own food, his appetite totally gone.

The days events had conspired against him. Stumbling into the men's room, Blair barely made it before his stomach violently protested and he expelled its contents into the porcelain bowl. Flushing the toilet, Blair rose on shaky limbs and he made his way over to the sink. Turning on the faucet, he allowed the cool water to bathe his clammy wrists, then sipping some water from his cupped hand, rinsed the vile taste from his mouth. Closing his eyes, Blair sought tostill his shivering extremities.

Ellison smelt the sour odor of bile. Concerned, he quickened his pace and, pushing open the door, silently entered the rest room. Any residual anger he may have felt from their earlier confrontation fled at the sight of his bedraggled partner. "You okay Chief?"

Lost within the depths of his own misery, Blair hadn't heard Ellison's approach. At the sound of Jim's voice, Blair's eyes shot open and he sought the other man's reflection in the mirror hanging above the sink. It was too reminiscent of the incident that had occurred earlier that day and Blair found the memories flooding back with a force that threatened to drown him with their intensity. "Oh God! Please no, not again," he barely whispered and closed his eyes in an effort to shut out the memory.

The scent of fear emanated from the police observer and wafted towards Ellison as he saw Sandburg's body suddenly go taut. Jim reached out with the intention of placing a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder. However, the moment Jim touched him it was as if Blair had been magically released from some invisible paralysis and the younger man became a whirlwind of motion.

He pivoted to his right and, picking up the waist high aluminum trash can, swung it with all his might towards Ellison. Jim felt a breeze tickle his neck as he ducked at the last moment and the trash can sailed over his head, crashing into the mirror. As its broken fragments cascaded down to litter the sink and floor, Blair dodged past Ellison, heading for the door.

He wrenched open the door, only to have it close again as Jim's hand reached from behind him and slammed it shut. Blair's breath was coming in harsh gasps and he felt as if his heart were going to beat its way out of his chest as he turned to find himself staring at Ellison's chest. Jim brought his other hand up, effectively pinning Sandburg between him and the door. Blair lost all sense of reason and, like the cornered animal he was, he attacked. Turning his head to the side, he clamped his teeth onto Ellison's forearm and bit down hard.

"Son of a..." Jim growled, pulling away to cradle the injured appendage. Blair used the opportunity to quickly dart past him and flee to the other side of the room. Unfortunately, there was no escape to be found there and he turned back, eyes wide with fear, to face Ellison.

Time seemed to stand still as the two men warily eyed each other. Jim didn't know what the hell was going on, but he did know that he didn't like the look of sheer terror on Sandburg's face. "Blair," he spoke softly, taking a tentative step forward, only to have Sandburg flatten himself even further against the wall in response. Jim stopped and held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. "It's okay Chief, it's only me. I'm not going to hurt you," he quietly crooned.

Just then the bathroom door flew open. "What the hell is going on in here?" Simon bellowed, entering.

Jim automatically turned at the captain's entrance and Blair used the distraction in an effort to escape. Jim reached out to snag him as Blair shot past, but came up empty handed. "Grab him!" he shouted at Banks.

Blair had almost made it to the door, only to be yanked back as Simon's hand grabbed a hold of his collar. Blair yelped in surprise and fear. Turning, he struck out blindly, clipping Simon squarely on the nose. Simon involuntary released Blair as his hand came up to staunch the flow of blood.

Blair made for the door once again and was tackled from behind by Jim, both men landing in a heap upon the floor. Despite the weight of Ellison holding him down, Blair frantically pawed at the floor, desperate to pull himself free.

Maintaining his iron grip on the struggling figure, Ellison got to his knees and pulled Blair over onto his back. Grabbing him by a handful of shirt, Jim yanked him up and, drawing back a fist, struck the anthropologist across the chin. Blair's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Carefully laying Blair back down, Jim sat back on his haunches as tremors shook his entire body.

"Would you mind telling me what just happened here?" Simon asked, his voice now having a decidedly more nasal quality.

Somehow Jim had convinced his captain not to call an ambulance. Instead they carefully moved Sandburg onto the couch in Simon's office. Simon pressed the handkerchief against his nose and pulling it away was pleased to see that the bleeding had stopped. As Jim continued to fuss, making sure the unconscious anthropologist was comfortably settled and then covered with his jacket, Simon poured them both a desperately needed cup of coffee.

Jim gratefully accepted the cup and sat on the end of the couch at Sandburg's feet. Taking a drink, he studied his partner's face, now relaxed in repose, and wondered, not for the first time, just what the hell was going on.

His gaze traveled down to Sandburg's chin and he involuntarily flinched. Even through the dark stubble, Jim could see bruises already forming. "God, Simon, how could I have hit him like that?" he asked, appalled at the very thought of having struck his friend.

Simon shrugged. "Seems to me you didn't have a lot of choice, the kid was out of control."

Jim shook his head in denial. "I should have found another way. He was terrified of me Simon."

"Come on Jim," Simon was incredulous. "Why would Sandburg be afraid of you? Everyone knows how you feel about the kid."

"I don't know Simon." Jim's confusion and frustration were evident. "Something's radically wrong here..."

Ellison's fear was almost palatable and that, in itself, was enough to scare the shit out of Simon, and he still hadn't gotten the whole story from the detective. "Just what happened in there Jim?"

Making sure to keep an ear tuned into his partner, Jim described in detail everything that had occurred from the time he first realized that Sandburg was sick to the moment Simon had entered the room.

"Sounds as if he might have had a flashback," Simon suggested, thoughtfully.

"You mean of whatever it was that happened to him earlier in there?"

"Considering what you've told me, it's possible."

"No, it doesn't make sense," Jim replied with a shake of his head. "If that were true, then why was he afraid of me?"

"Where Sandburg is concerned, I haven't a clue Jim. Perhaps he can provide some answers when he wakes up."

Simon watched as Ellison's gaze once again fell on his partner. Whatever was going on with Sandburg was not onlyaffecting their friendship, but their working relationship as well. Hell, now it was even spilling over into the rest of Major Crimes. As much as Simon dreaded the idea, his first responsibility was to his officers and the citizens of Cascade. He couldn't put it off any longer. "Jim," he gently tried to broach the subject, "I'm afraid this latest incident has left me no choice, I'm going to have to revoke Sandburg's observer credentials."

Jim's head snapped around in surprise. "You can't do that!" His voice rose in volume, even as he rose from the couch.

Simon held up a placating hand. "Look Jim, I know how you feel about this, but Sandburg's erratic behavior is starting to affect the rest of the department. This latest incident indicates that he's not only suffering from psychological problems, but is turning violent as well. He's becoming a danger to himself and others."

"Come on Simon, you know Blair would never hurt anyone."

Simon raised an eyebrow and touched his abused nose. "Oh really, then what do you call this?"

"He was afraid Simon! He was just trying to protect himself..."

"I'm sorry Jim," Simon said with a shake of his head. "Sandburg's observer status is suspended until I hear from the departmental psychologist that he is one hundred percent competent to return to work.

Angry, Ellison turned away from his captain, his sight falling once again on his unconscious partner. Frustrated, he rubbed at the tension filled muscles in his neck and consciously willed his clenched jaw to relax. Stiffly, he spoke. "I've got some work to do. Is it all right if Sandburg remains here for a while?"

Simon frowned at Ellison's hurt, angry, tone. "Of course it is. Look, Jim, I..."

"Thank you Sir," Jim interrupted, replying formally.

Simon shook his head in consternation as Jim strode inflexibly from his office. "Damn it Jim," he said aloud, knowing the detective could still hear him despite the distance. "I care about the kid too, but his isn't the only person's welfare I have to consider here." Simon sighed and turned away dejected as Ellison's only response was to straighten his back and continue onto his desk unabated.

About forty-five minutes later, Jim sensed that Blair had slipped from unconsciousness into a natural sleep and felt himself relax in response. He finished entering the names of the employees into the department database and now was waiting for the results.

Realizing he had a few minutes to spare, he decided to check out the bite mark on his forearm. Grabbing one of the first aid kits that were located throughout the station, Jim retreated to the privacy of the men's room to inspect the damage. His brain faintly registered the fact that the broken mirror fragments had already been cleaned up as he unbuttoned the cuff and rolled back his sleeve. Jim whistled at the sight of the two rows of symmetrical teeth marks, some of which had broken the skin. Fortunately, it hadn't bled much. Deftly, he cleaned the wound, applied a topical antibiotic and bandaged the area. Satisfied with his handiwork, Jim replaced the first aid kit and returned to his desk.

A quick check revealed that the background check on the employees list was nearly completed. He glanced towards Simon's office. Like him, the man should have gone home hours ago. Jim suspected that the only reason Simon had remained so long was to keep an eye on Sandburg. He knew he should feel grateful, but at the moment he was still too upset to feel anything but anger.

Jim printed out the report and, stuffing it into the case file, gathered everything together and went to collect Blair.

After a sharp rap on the door, Jim entered Simon's office. "Sorry for the interruption Sir, but I've finished running the files, so just give me a minute to get Sandburg and we'll get out of your way."

Ellison's tone rankled the captain. "Damn it Jim..."

Cool, angry blue eyes turned towards him. "I believe you've said everything there is to say," Ellison spoke blandly, then turned his back on Simon and knelt beside the sleeping man.

It was odd seeing Blair so quiet and peaceful looking. He dreaded the thought of waking him, but could feel Simon's eyes boring a hole in the back of his head. Reluctantly, he reached out, gently shaking the still form. "Sandburg, wake up, it's time to go home." No reaction. Jim shook a little harder. "Come on Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up."

Blair finally stirred and his hands came up to wipe the last remnants of sleep away. Two penetrating pools of blue opened and settled their focus on Ellison. "Jim?" Blair queried, not understanding the guarded look on his friend's face. He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. What the hell am I doing on the couch in Simon's office? he silently wondered. He searched his memory for an answer. Step by step, he traced his movements from the argument in the break room to... OH MY GOD! His heartbeat's tempo went into double time.

His eyes widened in shock and dismay as they were inexplicably drawn to the spot on Ellison's arm where he remembered having bitten him. "Jim?" His eyes sought those of the sentinel's, searching for anger, condemnation. Blair felt like sobbing with relief as he only saw concern reflected there. Embarrassed by his actions, Blair looked away.

Jim took Blair's chin firmly in hand and forced the younger man to look at him. "It's all right," he assured him. "Let's go home Chief."

There was so much that Blair wanted to say, to try and explain, but his thoughts were in turmoil. Mutely, he nodded.

Gingerly, he stood, still painfully aware of the abuse his body had suffered throughout the course of the day. Pushing back a handful of unruly curls, he noticed Simon's presence for the first time. The little bit of color gracing his wan featured drained away at the sight of Simon's swollen nose. "Oh man," he moaned, mortified. "Simon, I ..."

Simon looked at the shaken young man before him. "It's all right Blair, just go on home." He looked pointedly at Ellison. "We will discuss this tomorrow."

Blair frowned at the unspoken tension he felt emanating between his two friends. He threw a questioning glance at Ellison, demanding an answer. Jim merely took one last noncommittal glance at his captain and steered Sandburg out of the office.

Jim swung open the door, allowing Sandburg to precede him into the loft. Blair took a few steps into the room before stopping suddenly. Worried, Jim sidled up to his partner. "You okay?"

"Yes, no, I don't know." Exasperated, Blair ran a hand through his hair. "I'm so confused."

He turned Blair to face him and felt his roommate flinch at the slight touch. He wasn't even sure if Blair had been aware of the motion. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do Jim!" Blair was taken aback. "With my life, you know that."

"Then trust me when I tell you we will discover what's going on here and we'll do it together, just like we've always done. Okay?" he prompted.

Blair's responding smile was genuine, hopeful. Gone, for the first time in weeks, was that haunted, shuttered look that Jim had begun to associate with his friend. "Yeah, I mean, between a Sentinel and a Shaman, we should be able to figure this out, right?"

"Right," Jim agreed.

Despite the short, imposed nap Sandburg had gotten, he still looked exhausted. "Tell you what Chief, you go grab a shower while I fix us some coffee and then we'll talk."

"A shower sounds great man," moaned Blair, who was agonizingly aware of every ache and pain, "but no coffee for me, my stomach's still a bit queasy."

"How about some tea then?" Jim suggested.

"That, I think I can handle."

"You got it."

Blair swiftly grabbed some clean clothes from his room, eager to get under the warm, soothing spray of water. Closing the door, he heard Jim call out a reminder not to use all the hot water and chuckled. "If you didn't have so much area to wash," Blair retorted, "you wouldn't keep running out of hot water man."

"Careful there Sandburg," Jim replied good naturedly, "or your next shower will be at the local car wash. Yeah," Jim pondered aloud, warming to the subject, "I could just throw you in the back and get you and the Ford washed and waxed at the same time."

"Oh man, I'm shaking here, big guy," Blair quipped. "As, if, you'd let anything besides the softest of sponges touch the truck."

Okay, so it wasn't much of a threat, Jim conceded with a quirk of his mouth. But then again, it wasn't intended to be. Damn, but it's good to hear Blair laugh again. He had missed the playful banter the two of them often indulged in. Now, if they could just get to the bottom of Blair's odd behavior, then maybe things would get back to normal. Well, as normal as things could be with Sandburg around. He smiled at the thought. Jim heard the shower go on and hurried to fix the coffee and tea.

Blair stepped into the shower and moaned in ecstasy as the hot, steaming water rained down to sooth his multitude of aches. As he stood there indulging in the sheer pleasure of the sensation, his mind replayed the day's events. His smile of contentment faded away with a heartfelt sigh. How the hell am I going to tell my best friend that I freaked  outbecause I thought it was him who attacked me? Jim would never understand. Hell, even he couldn't comprehendit. So why, then, did the visions of Jim attacking him seem so real? And if Jim wasn't the one who attacked him, thenwho did? Blair rested his cheek against the cool tile as the thoughts continued to whirl in his mind. Maybe Doctor Raines could make some sense of it all and explain the paradox to him. Having finally reached a decision, Blair felt immanently better and resumed his shower.

As Jim heard the shower shut off, he poured the hot water, allowing the tea a few minutes to steep. With a calculating look, he glanced at the brewing beverage and then towards the closed bathroom door. Coming to a decision of his own, Jim pulled the two prescription bottles from his pocket. Carefully, he read the instructions on the labels and then proceeded to place one of each in Sandburg's cup. There is more than one way to skin astubborn anthropologist, he thought, then felt the sting of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He forced the thoughts away. No, the doctor wouldn't have prescribed them if he hadn't thought Blair needed them. And if his roommate was too damn stubborn to take care of himself, well then, Jim was just going to have to do it for him.

One towel tucked around his hips, Blair used another to wipe the steam from the bathroom mirror and, for the first time, took inventory of his appearance. "Oh man," he groaned. No wonder Jim was having conniptions, he thought. "I look like shit." The lump on his forehead was one big massive bruise and the newly acquired one to his jaw showed promise as well. Not that he blamed Jim in the slightest. Considering the chunk he had taken out of Jim's arm, Blair counted himself lucky that his head was still attached to his shoulders. Blair frowned. No, that's not right. Jim would never intentionally hurt me. He looked again into the mirror and saw, not his own reflection, but that of a crazed Jim Ellison. "NO!" Blair denied, closing his eyes to shut out the image.

A knock came on the bathroom door, startling Blair. "Hey Chief, you okay in there?"

Blair opened his eyes and was relieved to find the grotesque aberration gone. "Yeah man," he croaked out, then, clearing the lump from his throat, added, "I'll be out in a minute." He listened as Jim hovered momentarily outside the door and then to his steps as the older man returned to the kitchen. Blair let out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

Jim looked at Blair's cup of tea and wondered if he was doing the right thing. Deciding he'd made a mistake, he started to reach for the cup. Unfortunately, at that moment, the bathroom door opened and Blair shuffled into the room. He watched wordlessly as Blair picked up the cup and inhaled it's heady aroma as if it were the essence of life.

Blair took a tentative sip and sighed with satisfaction. He saw Jim watching him and smiled. "Thanks man, I really needed this." Not quite ready for the confrontation about to take place, Blair carried his tea into the living room and made himself comfortable on the couch. Jim followed, baring his cup of coffee. Blair slowly sipped the tea, obviously trying to delay the moment and Jim allowed him that luxury, but only for a short time. Despite being prepared for it, Blair felt his heart lurch when Jim spoke.

"So Chief, you gonna tell me what happened."

Carefully, Blair sat the cup down on the coffee table and ran a hand through his still damp hair. Finally, he turned to look at his friend and froze as a kaleidoscope of images flashed across his mind's eye. Panicked, he forced them away, concentrating instead on the apprehensive features of his roommate.

"It just happened again, didn't it?" Jim asked softly, as not to spook the younger man.

"What?" Blair mumbled, still half dazed.

"You had another flashback, didn't you?"

Reluctantly, Blair nodded.

"Come on Chief, I can't help you deal with this unless you talk to me."

Blair still hesitated.

"You were standing by the sink in the men's room..." Jim reminded him.

"Which time?" Blair wanted to know.

"The first time, when you were attacked. Jim heard Blair's heartbeat accelerate. "It's okay Chief, it's over, nothing's going to happen to you here, okay?"

Blair nodded, then proceeded to close his eyes. Slowly, he breathed in and out, while silently instructing his body to relax. Eventually, he managed to achieve a tranquil state. He nodded, indicating that he was ready.

"Okay, you were standing at the sink," Jim repeated. "What happened next?"

"I'd just finished drying my hands when I glanced into the mirror."

He heard the catch in Blair's breath. "What did you see?" he inquired softly. As several moments passed, he listened to Sandburg's respiration increase. "Blair, what did you see?" Demanding this time.

"There was a man standing behind me."

"Did you recognize him?"

Another, longer, pause. "No, no I didn't."

Jim instinctively knew Blair was lying, but decided to let it slide, for now. "What happened then?"

"Y...he attacked me. He shoved me into the sink and then threw me against the wall."

"Go on," Jim prompted.

"I don't remember anything else," Blair replied with a shake of his head.

"Blair, I got there seconds after the attack and there wasn't anyone in the room with you. How do you explain that?"

"I...I don't know," Blair hedged, lying yet again.

Jim felt a stab of disappointment, but set the feeling aside as he smelt the scent of fear and realized that Blair's erratic vital signs were rapidly becoming dangerous. "Come on, settle down buddy." He could see that Blair was trying hard to obey his instructions, but wasn't having much luck. Worried for his friend's well being, he decided that he would have to end this, and soon. "Okay, now tell me, what happened the second time?"

Blair frowned in consternation. "A flashback, I guess. I looked up and ... and he was there."

"Who? Who was there Blair?"

Blair's eyes flew open. Rising from the couch, he began pacing.

On his next pass, Jim stood and gripped his wrist. He felt Blair trembling beneath his touch. "Who did you see?" he demanded. Blair remained stubbornly mute. Exasperated, Jim released the smaller man. "All right, you obviously don't intend to answer that one. Can you at least tell me why you were so afraid of me?" Rubbing absently at the bruises already forming on his wrist, Blair refused to meet Ellison's penetrating gaze. "Damn it Blair, answer me!"

Sandburg's trembling grew visibly more pronounced and Jim immediately regretted his harsh tone. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "I didn't mean to yell. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this. I thought that's what you wanted too."

"I do!" Blair insisted.

"It doesn't look that way to me from where I'm sitting Chief. You've repeatedly evaded the issue and you've lied to me."

"NO!" Blair denied.

"You think I don't know when you're lying Chief. You're the one that called me a human crime lab. I don't need to hook you up to a polygraph to know when you're lying to me."

"Fine," Blair shouted, backing away. "You don't want to believe me. Well, that's just fine with me. I don't need this man, and I don't need you!" Finished with his tirade, he stormed past Ellison and into his room.The French doors vibrated behind him as Blair slammed them shut.

Jim, not about to let it go, followed hot on the heels of his partner. About to knock, he heard the lock turn. "Sandburg," he growled, rattling the door knob. There was no response. "Damn it Blair, open the door." Listening, he could hear Blair pacing back and forth muttering incoherently. Apprehensive, he focused his senses and winced as he heard Blair's heart racing. Afraid the younger man was heading towards a stroke, he decided to back off. "Okay buddy, just listen to me then. I'm going to back off." He heard the pacing stop. Encouraged that Sandburg was listening, he continued, "....for now, but you've got to promise me that you'll try and calm down."

There was still no verbal response, but Jim heard the bed springs give beneath Sandburg's weight as he laid down. With a sigh of relief, he returned to the living room, but kept his senses tuned into monitoring his friend.

In his room, Blair turned over and buried his face in the pillow, trying in vain to block out the conflicting, tumultuous visions and emotions.

Picking up Blair's discarded cup, Jim carried it and his into the kitchen and set them in the sink. He started to turn away and then, with a wrinkle of his nose, turned back. He picked up Sandburg's cup and frowned. That's odd, he thought. I never noticed that smell before. Then it dawned on him that it must be the medication he was smelling, and he wondered again if he had done the right thing.

He sighed wearily. It had been a long day and it was going to be an even longer night. He picked up the files that he'd brought home and settled down on the couch to read them. "Damn!" he groaned aloud as he remembered that he hadn't even had the chance yet to tell Sandburg about Simon's decision. Yep, it was going to be a very long night indeed.

Blair awoke feeling exhausted. Several times over the course of the night, he had awakened from his restless slumbers drenched in sweat with remnants of nightmares making it difficult to fall asleep again.

Rolling over, he groaned as the motion reminded him most painfully of his injuries. Gingerly, he sat up and felt a weight settle in the region of his heart as he recalled the incident with Jim the evening before. Jim had accused him of lying and, in reality, he was. But how did one explain to their best friend, that they remember said best friend beating the crap out of them, and thus, as a result, you were deathly afraid of them. No, it was better if Jim thought of him as a liar. He just prayed that Jim didn't take to heart the hurtful words he had hurled at the older man the night before. It wasn't true, he did need Jim, now more so than ever. But he also knew he didn't want to drag his best friend into whatever nightmarish episode of the twilight zone he found himself ensconced in. No, this was something he needed to deal with alone and just hope that Jim was still there when the dust settled. Besides, it was ridiculous, he knew in his heart that Jim would never do anything to hurt him. Why then did his memories and injuries indicate otherwise?

Reaching for his wallet laying on the nightstand, Blair pulled out the business card Dr. Raines had given him. On it she had written her home and beeper numbers and she had assured him that he could call her whenever he had a problem or just wanted to talk. He glanced at the clock and although it was still early yet, he decided to try and reach her anyway.

Much to his relief, she agreed to see him immediately instead of waiting for his appointment on Thursday. Blair felt guilty when she casually mentioned that she had taken a personal day today and, therefore, with no other appointments, could devote as much time to Blair as was needed. She even offered to come to the loft thinking Blair would be more comfortable in his own surroundings.

Fixing a set time, he thanked her and then tried to figure out how he was going to explain to Jim that he wouldn't be helping him with the case today. Now came the part he was dreading, facing Jim, but unable to put it off any longer, Blair quickly showered, shaved and got dressed.

Entering the kitchen to start breakfast, Blair felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he spotted Jim asleep on the couch. There was no doubt in Blair's mind that his friend had chosen to remain close by in case Blair had needed him during the night. Quietly, as not to wake the sentinel, he put on the coffee and started breakfast.

Jim's nose twitched as the aroma of fresh coffee tickled his senses. Opening his eyes, he gratefully accepted the cup Blair held out to him. Under the guise of taking a sip, Jim studied his roommate. Gone was the anger the younger man had exhibited the night before but, in it's place, Jim sensed embarrassment and evasion. Mentally he sighed, knowing that Blair was still intent on shutting him out.

Blair broke the prolonged silence between the two men. "Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes if you want to grab a shower first."

"Sounds good," Jim replied heading for the bathroom as Blair literally fled into the kitchen.

Sandburg's outdone himself this morning, Jim thought as he finally sat down to the elaborate breakfast Blair had prepared. "This looks real good Chief."

"Thanks," Blair replied, then pretended to be busy eating when in reality all he was doing was pushing the food around on his plate.

While showering and dressing, Jim had tried to figure out a way to tell Sandburg about Simon suspending his observer's pass, but knew no matter how he phrased it the kid was going to be hurt. Might as well get it over with, he thought.

"Blair - Jim," they spoke simultaneously and Jim nodded, indicating that Blair should go first.

"Um... about today," Blair said, and even without the nervous stammer, Jim knew Blair was preparing to tell another lie. "The university called and they need me to cover a couple of classes, so I won't be able to go into work with you."

Well that solves one problem, Jim thought, but wondered why Blair was lying in order to avoid going to the station. Confront or evade, that was the question. However, one look at his partner's closed off features told him that to confront Blair now would be an exercise in futility. Frustration flowed over him. Whatever was going on with.Sandburg would take some time to solve, certainly more than the few minutes he currently had to spare. "Do you want me to drop you off?" he asked, realizing that Blair was expecting a response.

"Um...no thanks. I've got some errands to run after classes." Jim nodded his understanding. Blair fidgeted a few minutes before asking, "So, what were you going to say?"

Once again Jim cursed the necessity of his job impeding his desire to help his friend. Reluctantly, he told Blair, "It'll wait." He looked at his watch. "In fact, I'd better get going."

"Go ahead man," Blair said, ushering Jim towards the door. "I'll take care of this mess," he added, indicating the breakfast dishes.

Retrieving the case file and his keys, Jim opened the door, then, pausing, he turned back. "Blair..."

The grad student looked up. "Yeah?"

There was so much Jim wanted to say. Reluctantly, he settled for "Thanks for breakfast."

Blair nodded. "No sweat man."

As the door closed behind the detective, Blair sat back with relief. He had been so afraid that Jim was going to mention what had happened the night before. He knew the sentinel wasn't about to let it go, that it was only a short reprieve, but he was grateful for it none the less.

Jim stood listening outside the loft door. He heard Blair's chair slide across the floor and the distinct sound of his friend scraping his untouched breakfast into the trash. With a sad shake of his head, he headed for his truck, silently vowing, Once this current case is over, nothing and no one, including Sandburg, is going to stop me from finding out what is going on with him.

By the time the knock came at the door, Blair was a bundle of nerves. He stopped pacing and took a deep calming breath, trying to collect himself. Opening the door, his smile for the psychologist was genuine. He stepped back allowing her to enter. "I am so glad you had time to see me today Dr. Raines," he told her, shutting the door.

"I am always available to my patients Blair and it's Katherine, remember?"

"Right," he acknowledged. "Can I offer you something to drink? Coffee, tea?"

"Tea would be nice, if it's not too much trouble."

"No, no trouble at all. Please make yourself comfortable, this will only take a minute." As Blair headed for the kitchen, Katherine eyed her surroundings. "You have a lovely home," she told him.

"Um, thanks, but it's not really mine. It belongs to Jim."

"Detective Ellison, you mean?"

"Yeah, ah, Katherine I'm afraid we're out of tea, would coffee be okay?"

"That would be fine," she assured him. "You and Detective Ellison seem like an unlikely pair to be partners, let alone to live together."

"You're not the first person to say that," Blair chuckled as he entered the living room. He sat the tray containing the coffee pot and condiments on the coffee table, motioning for Katherine to take a seat, then sat beside her on the couch.

Katherine picked up the cup and took a sip. "So how is it that you two became partners?" The color drained from Blair's face. "I'm sorry Blair, I didn't mean to pry," Katherine apologized.

"No, it's okay," he assured her, summoning a smile for her benefit. "It's a pretty boring story actually." The smile faded and was replaced with a furrowed frown.

"What is it Blair?" the psychologist prompted when Blair seemed hesitant.

"Well, I know we're suppose to talk about what happened when I was kidnapped by Andrea, but..." His voice trailed off, uncertain.

"Not necessarily Blair. I'm here to help you with anything that's bothering you. So tell me, why did you call me over here this morning?"

Confused, Blair ran a hand through his head of curls. "I'm not really sure where to start. It's about my friend, Jim."

"Oh dear!" Katherine cried out, having spilled some coffee on her blouse. Blair was up in an instant, heading for the kitchen. Wetting a dish towel, he returned to the living room, handing it to the doctor. Katherine scrubbed at the spot to no avail. "Darn it! This was my favorite blouse."

"Well," Blair suggested, "if you don't mind wearing one of my shirts, we could let it soak for a while in some stain remover I have."

Katherine smiled. "If you wouldn't mind, that would be wonderful."

"No problem," Blair assured her, heading off to his room in search of something the doctor could wear. He returned a couple minutes later handing her a shirt. "Here, this should fit and you'll find the stain remover in the cabinet beneath the bathroom sink." With a smile of gratitude, she went into the bathroom while Blair used the discarded towel to clean up the rest of the spill.

Returning shortly, Katherine resumed her seat on the couch. "Now, you were about to tell me about Detective Ellison."

"Well, I've known Jim for about three years now and we've become really good friends. I like him. I respect him and I'd trust him with my life. In fact, he's saved it on more than one occasion, but..." Blair paused, his mouth suddenly having gone dry. He took a drink of coffee, grimacing slightly at its bitter taste.

"But what?" Katherine urged him to continue.

Blair wrapped his hands around the mug as if seeking its warmth. "It started a couple of months ago. I'd find myself becoming angry with Jim for no reason at all. Then, as time went on, I found it happening more and more."

"Do you have any idea why you were behaving this way?" the doctor asked.

Blair shook his head. "No, but it's beginning to affect not only our friendship, but our working relationship as well. I guess that's why Simon, Captain Banks," Blair clarified, "insisted that I come and see you."

Katherine nodded. "Well, that's understandable Blair, but I sense that there's more to this."

"Yeah, there is." Blair slowly sipped at the coffee. "Yesterday, Jim attacked me."

"WHAT!?!" Katherine interjected, obviously shocked.

Blair frowned. "At least I think it was Jim. I mean, it looked like him, but Jim insisted that it wasn't and I gotta believe that because the alternative is just too horrible to even consider." He looked up helplessly.

"Tell me what happened Blair, from the beginning." Blair proceeded to tell her everything he could remember. "Well, that explains your injuries. I was wondering about them, but figured you'd tell me when you were ready. Are you positive it wasn't Detective Ellison?" she asked.

"Of course I am!" Blair was adamant.

She paused, considering. "So tell me, what else has happened to make you afraid of your partner?"

"I'm not afraid of Jim," Blair denied, looking away. "He'd never do anything to hurt me. At least not physically."

"I don't think you really believe that Blair, otherwise, you wouldn't have asked me here today."

Defeated by the truth, Blair reluctantly began to tell her about the nightmares, both the waking ones and those that haunted him in his dreams.

"Blair, I think your subconscious is trying to tell you something. Something that you've buried very deeply because you don't want to face the truth of it."

"What?" Blair turned on her in anger. "That Jim is hurting me? I told you, he wouldn't do that!"

"Then how do you explain the nightmares, the fact that you're scared to death of him?"

"Damn it, I don't know!" Blair replied, slamming his coffee mug down on the table. He rose and began pacing. "It  doesn't make any sense. Maybe I am going crazy."

"No Blair, I don't believe that. These fears are real, we just have to find out where they are coming from."

"Well, good luck," Blair snorted. "I've thought about this so much my head feels as if it's going to explode."

Katherine frowned. "Blair, I want you to come sit by me. Come on," she encouraged, patting the spot beside her when Blair hesitated.

With a heavy sigh, Blair moved to sit beside her. "Okay, now what?"

She studied the young man before her. "I want to use hypnosis to get to the root of what's troubling you."

"NO! Absolutely not!" Blair was up and pacing again. With a trembling hand he pushed back an errant lock of hair. He shook his head. "Look, maybe this was a mistake."

The psychologist was shocked by Blair's response and wondered just what it was that he was trying so hard to hide. "No, it wasn't a mistake Blair. Hypnosis would help break down the barriers that you've built around yourself. It would..."

"NO! It's out of the question." Fear filled eyes turned toward her, silently pleading with her to let it go.

"All right, no hypnosis," she capsulated, and Blair released his pent up breath. "Now, I want you to sit down and try to relax," she told him.

Blair was about to protest again, but realized how ungrateful he must seem. He resumed his place on the couch and tried to formulate an apology.

"It's all right Blair, I understand," she paused, thinking. "Perhaps we could try something else."

"Like what?" Blair eyed her suspiciously.

"Nothing painful, I assure you." Katherine chuckled. "I was thinking more along the lines of mediation to help you relax."

Blair considered it. At least with meditation he would remain in control. He nodded. "Okay, let's give it a try."

Katherine smiled. "Good, now I want you to sit back, close your eyes and try to relax..."

Jim walked into the Major Crimes' squad room in a royally pissed off mood. He had visited the sight of the first two robberies, interviewed the foremans and had gotten copies of their employee records. Now he had the tedious task of correlating that information against that from the third robbery, a job he wasn't looking forward to. Normally he would have given Sandburg  that assignment to do. Not only did the kid enjoy it, but he had gotten damn good at finding the similarities between case files. However, thanks to Simon, Blair wasn't here to help and wouldn't be for some time to come. Jim thought back to Sandburg's obvious reluctance to come to the station. Was he embarrassed about what had happened yesterday? After all, it wasn't everyday you gave the captain a
bloody nose. Maybe he had heard them talking and knew Simon had suspended his observer's status. Or maybe  it was something entirely different. One never knew with Sandburg these days. Damn it! Why couldn't Simon see that now was not the time to separate them.

"Ellison, my office," Simon called.

Speak of the devil, Jim thought. Grabbing the case files, he reluctantly headed for Simon's office, quietly shutting the door behind him.

"You wanted to see me sir?" Jim stood rigidly waiting for Simon to speak.

Simon sat back in his chair with a sigh, fully aware of the hostility radiating from Ellison. "How is the case coming along?"

Jim brought him up to date and to say that Simon was not pleased would have been an understatement. "Sir, between the three warehouses, there are several hundred employee files to sort through. It's going to take some time. It'd go a lot quicker if Sandburg were here to help," he reminded the captain pointedly.

"Jim, we've already been over this," Simon warned him, watching with regret as Jim retreated further behind a jaw clenched in anger and his controlled posture.

"I am well aware of that sir," Jim replied, his anger barely held in check. "However, I don't see how you can justify separating us at a time like this. It was fine when Sandburg was around because I needed him to function on the job or the department needed his expertise on a case. But let Sandburg be the one who needs help and he's out the door."

"It's not like that Jim and you know it!" Simon bellowed, rising from his chair.

"No sir, I don't." Jim focused his attention on a spot on the wall behind Simon. "Will there be anything else?"

Simon rubbed at the throbbing pain in his temple. "No, just let me know when you've got something on the case."

"Very good sir," Jim responded stiffly, leaving Simon alone and decidedly unsettled.

With the slamming of the door, Blair awoke with a start. "What the hell!?!" he yelped, sitting up abruptly on the couch, feeling every ache and pain in the process.

Jim strode over to the couch, glaring down at him. "What the hell was she doing here?" he demanded.

Blair pushed the hair out of his face, looking up at Jim for the first time since he'd entered the loft. "What, who?" he asked, still fuzzy from sleep.

"Dr. Raines," Jim repeated. "What was she doing here?"

The anger in Jim's voice finally registered through the sleep filled mist of his mind. He took a closer look at his friend and felt fear rise up to choke him. Back peddling on the couch, he tried to put as much distance as possible between them. He didn't get far as Ellison grabbed him by the front of his shirt and jerked him up from the couch. "Damn it punk, you will answer me!" he growled, shaking the anthropologist like a rag doll.

"Jim! Come on man, what's wrong with you?" His struggles were futile against the vice like grip. "Let me go," he pleaded, searching in vain for some semblance of the Jim Ellison he knew in those cold blue orbs baring down on him.

"What did you tell her about me?" Jim demanded, shaking him once again.

Blair felt his head snap back. "Nothing, I swear!" he responded through the haze of pain.

Ellison pulled him up close, face to face. "Then what was she doing here? You lied to me, didn't you? Just so you could call her over here the minute my back was turned."

"No, Jim," Blair denied. "It wasn't like that..." Blair's hand brushed against the coffee pot still setting on the table. Picking it up, he swung it with all his might. A grunt could he heard from Ellison as it connected with the side of his head, his hands releasing their tenacious hold. Dropping the pot, Blair scrambled over the back of the couch and sped for his room.

"Oh no you don't!" Jim leapt over the couch, tackling Blair in one fell swoop. Blair hit the floor hard, his chin taking the brunt of the impact. Pain resonated up throughout his face as Jim hauled him to his feet. "You've disappointed me Sandburg, but worse than that, you've ticked me off. Now you're gonna pay."

"JIM, NO!" Blair implored, but to no avail as Ellison's fist impacted with his stomach. Blair found the rest of his voice gone with the intensity of the impact. Doubled over, trying to catch his breath, Blair felt himself being pulled upright by a firm grip in his hair. Ellison's fist connected with his jaw and Blair stumbled backwards a few steps. Before he had a chance to protest further, he looked up just in time to see Jim execute a round house kick which impacted with his chest, sending him flying backwards through the glass balcony doors. Blair barely had time to throw an arm up to cover his face as the glass rained down upon him.

It was early yet, but Jim couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had tried on several occasions to reach Sandburg on his cell phone, receiving no answer. Finally, he resorted to calling the University and had his fears confirmed when they informed him that Blair hadn't been required to cover any classes. Worried now, he blew off the case, tossing it to Brown and Rafe on his way out the door.

Not knowing where else to start, Jim returned to the last place he had seen Blair, the loft. Impatiently he waited for the lift to carry him to his floor, his sense of urgency growing with each passing minute. The minute the lift door opened he smelt it, blood. But not just any blood, Sandburg's blood. He raced to the loft, kicking open the door rather than waiting to find his keys. He stopped dead at the sight that awaited him. "Oh my God!" he whispered, feeling as if he had just been punched in the solar plexus. There, on the balcony, covered in glass and blood, lay Blair.

Fearing the worst, he forced himself to move. Kneeling down beside his friend, he gently pushed back the hair from Blair's bloodstained face. He listened for Blair's heartbeat, for the sound of his breathing, and panicked when he couldn't locate it. Reaching out, he felt for a pulse, nearly weeping with relief when he found it. "It's okay buddy, you just hang in there. Everything's going to be fine." Pulling out his cell phone, he called for an ambulance, siting officer down in his monologue.

He had no awareness beyond Blair. He didn't hear Simon's car screech to a halt in front of the building. He didn't hear the ambulance with its sirens blaring coming their way. Nothing. Only Blair and his overwhelming need to keep his guide and friend from dying.

"Jim!" Simon hollered again, shaking the oblivious detective. "Come on, snap out of it, the paramedics are here."

The knowledge that help had finally arrived served to rouse Jim from his zone out. He blinked and looked up somewhat dazed as the medics entered the loft. Forcibly pulling Ellison aside, Simon directed them to the injured man.

"What are you doing here?" Jim asked, registering Simon's presence for the first time.

"I was close by when I heard the call. What in the hell happened here Jim?" Simon asked as they both watched the paramedics work on Sandburg.

Jim ran a hand through his short cropped hair. "I don't know. I had a feeling something was wrong and when I got home, this is how I found him."

After carefully checking him over, wrapping the cuts and hooking him up to an IV, they loaded Blair onto a stretcher. "How is he?" Jim asked, unable to wait any longer as they wheeled Sandburg out of the room.

The young, blonde paramedic rose, picking up the rest of his equipment. "His most immediate need is a blood transfusion. Amazingly enough, most of the cuts are fairly superficial, but he's got a nasty gash on his forearm. No doubt sustained when he tried to protect his head from the falling glass."

Jim felt nauseous at the image of what might have happened had Blair not managed to protect his face. "I'm riding with him," he informed the paramedic, his tone brooking no argument.

Having dealt with them before, the young man was very familiar with Ellison and his partner and knew nothing and no one came between them. "Wouldn't have it any other way," he assured the distraught detective.

"Jim," Simon called after the retreating figure. "I'll meet you at the hospital after forensics has had a chance to go over the place." Receiving no reply, Simon turned back to survey the scene. "Christ," he muttered with a shake of his head. "What else can go wrong?"

Entering Cascade General by way of the emergency room, it didn't take long for Simon to locate Ellison. In the stark waiting room, absently clutching a cold, stale styrofoam cup of coffee, Jim sat staring. At first Simon thought the worst, that something had gone horribly wrong and Sandburg had died. However, Jim's behavior seemed too sedate, more reminiscent of a zone out. He walked over to stand before the detective. "Jim?" he called, breathing a sigh of relief when Ellison's blue eyes looked up upon hearing his name. "Any word on the kid yet?"

Setting the coffee aside, Jim rose and once again looked at the doors through which Blair had disappeared nearly an hour and a half before. "No, nothing yet," came the monotone reply.

"Forensics was just finishing up when I left," Simon told him. "We lifted three different sets of prints. No word yet on who the third set belongs to, but from the two coffee cups, it's obvious that Sandburg had company, someone he knew."

Jim nodded absently, only half listening, his attention unquestionably elsewhere. "There were signs of a struggle and we found a chemical residue in the bathroom sink. Serena seems to think it's some type of cleaning fluid," Simon continued, still not receiving a glimmer of response from Ellison. "Are you all right Jim?" he asked, concerned.

Piercing blue eyes rose up to bore into his. "No, I'm not all right. This never should have happened. It wouldn't have happened if Sandburg had been with me, where he belongs, instead of out there on his own."

Simon bristled. "I might remind you Detective, that Sandburg was injured just yesterday, in a police station, surrounded by cops, yourself included. So don't try and lay this one off on me."

That effectively took the wind out of Ellison's sails. That, and the fact that Sandburg had deliberately avoided going into the station anyway. Ellison scrubbed a hand over his tired face. "You're right sir, I'm sorry."

Simon's disposition softened. "I know how you feel about the kid. Hell, there aren't many left who don't view Blair as one of our own. With the advent of this second attack, I've got requests out the ears from officers wanting to be assigned to protect him..."

"That won't be necessary, because I have no intention of letting Sandburg out of my sight from now on," Jim told him.

"Come on Jim, you can't be with him twenty-four hours a day," Simon tried to reason. "Besides, you're going to be busy with the waterfront case."

"Not without Sandburg, I'm not." Jim's tone was defiant.

"We've already been over this..." Simon began, exasperated.

"Either Sandburg's observer's credentials are reinstated immediately, or I'll turn in my badge. It's as simple as that."

"That sounds suspiciously like blackmail Detective," Simon replied to Jim's ultimatum.

Ellison shrugged. "You can take it any way you like. Sandburg and I are in this together or not at all."

As a captain, Simon couldn't remember the last time he had been so angered by someone's insubordinate attitude, yet, as a friend, he understood what motivated Ellison's actions. Besides, he needed Jim on this case. "You do realize, of course, that the kid's hardly in any shape to be working with you or anyone else right now."

"I know that Sir, but if I know Sandburg, that's not gonna stop him from trying."

Simon sighed, defeated. Jim was right. If Sandburg thought Jim needed him, nothing short of death, and Simon wasn't even certain about that, would keep him from Ellison's side. "All right," Simon conceded. "But when this case is over, you and I are going to have a long talk."

"I'll look forward to it sir," Ellison replied.

Anything Simon might have said was cut short, as the doctor in charge of Blair's case appeared and headed for Ellison.

"Detective." He nodded in greeting.

"How's my partner?"

"He's an extremely lucky young man," the doctor replied. "Although, considering he's ended up in here twice in as many days, that might be considered debatable."

"Yes, well." The doctor cleared his throat, hurrying on as both men merely glared at him. "As a result of Mr. Sandburg's accident, he received multiple cuts and lacerations. The majority of them weren't serious, but we did have to stitch up several of them. The one on his right forearm was the most severe. That one took eighteen stitches. Luckily, he was found in time, otherwise, he might have bled to death."

Realizing just how close he had come to losing his partner, what little bit of color Ellison did have, vanished. "Can I take him home now?"

"We'd like to keep him overnight," the doctor replied. "Just to be on the safe side."

"Knowing of Sandburg's aversion for hospitals," Simon snorted. "It'd be easier to convince the Eskimos' to buy ice than it would be to get him to agree to stay here overnight."

"Actually, Captain Banks," the doctor replied, "Mr. Sandburg seems quite amiable to the idea." The doctor frowned. "I must admit, though, that in itself came as quite a surprise since both Mr. Sandburg and Detective Ellison are well known for their reluctance to remain with us for any length of time."

"Can I see him?" Jim asked.

"That's the other thing that surprised me," the doctor confessed.

"What?" inquired Simon.

The doctor flicked a quick, uncomfortable glance at Ellison before responding. "Well, normally Mr. Sandburg asks for Detective Ellison first thing. This time though..."

"What?" Jim demanded.

"Well, this time, he didn't. In fact, he specifically stated that he didn't want any visitors at all."

"We'll see about that!" Jim ground out, shoving past the startled doctor.

"Detective!" the doctor protested.

"Jim!" Simon called, but Ellison paid neither any heed as he continued through the double doors, down the hall and into Sandburg's room.

Blair hadn't been asleep, but he had been resting. Eyes closed, lost in thought, he was unprepared for the pissed off detective baring down on him. He scrambled back in his bed as far as he could go, eyes wide with fear.

It was that look of terror that finally stopped Jim, dead in his tracks. "Chief? What the..." He heard his guide's breath falter. Heard the rapid pounding of his heart.

The doctor, followed by Simon, strode into the room. Seeing the distraught condition of his patient, he brushed past Ellison, over to Blair's side, and began checking his vitals. Not liking what he found, he turned to the source of his patient's distress. "Detective Ellison, I really must insist that you leave this minute. You're obviously upsetting Mr. Sandburg."

Jim merely stood there, looking on, dumbfounded. Simon took hold of his arm, pulling gently. "Come on, let's go." Receiving no response, he tugged again and, finally, Ellison allowed himself to be led from the room.

Jim took a few steps down the corridor, then paused, looking back. "I don't understand," he said. His confusion and pain screaming from every pore of his being. "I know that Blair was scared of me before, but now he's down right terrified of me."

"Maybe you just startled him," Simon suggested, but in his heart knowing otherwise. Sandburg had shrunk back in terror from his best friend and partner. The question was why?

"No, it was me," Jim insisted. "How the hell am I suppose to help him, to protect him, if I can't even get near him?" His frustration was unmistakable.

"Maybe it's time you considered backing off..." Simon said, holding up a hand to stave off Jim's protest. "Look, I know how you feel about this, but it's obvious that Sandburg's not going to open up to you right now. Give him some space and let the psychologist do the job she was trained to do."

"And what about his safety? Am I just suppose to let whatever the hell's going on continue?" Ellison bellowed.

Realizing they were causing a disturbance, Simon pulled Ellison aside saying in hushed tones, "I swear to you Jim, I'll make sure he's protected twenty-four hours a day. Nothing else is going to be allowed to happen to him."

Ellison's demeanor seemed to deflate like a balloon. "I'm losing him Simon. Something's taking him away from me and I don't know why."

"Or who," Simon speculated.

That seemed to get Ellison's attention. "What are you getting at?"

"What if there is someone behind this, purposely trying to drive a wedge between you and Sandburg?"

"Someone holding a grudge." Ellison blew out a breath of pent up air. "I don't know Simon, that covers a lot of ground."

"Maybe we should bring the department psychologist in on this," Simon suggested. "I know she can't divulge anything that was said during their session, but maybe she'll spot something we've overlooked. Something that will explain Sandburg's erratic emotional outburst."

Jim scowled. "You think it's connected in some way to the attacks?"

"That's what I'm beginning to wonder. I can understand his being traumatized after Alessi got through with him and I can even understand him getting pissed off at you now and then, but [A] The kid's been through a lot with you over the past three years and I have yet to see anyone who bounces back as quickly as he does, and [B] There's no way in hell you could ever do anything to make Sandburg that afraid of you. No, there's got to be another explanation. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that Sandburg's on drugs considering the way he's been acting."

"But what if he didn't know he was taking drugs," Jim suggested, thoughtfully.

Simon's eyebrows rose. "Well, there's one way to find out. I'll ask the doctor to run the appropriate tests. In the meantime, I'll call the station and have them send someone over to keep an eye on Sandburg. I'll also have the records department start pulling your old case files."

"Oh, they're gonna love that," Jim said, rolling his eyes.

"It shouldn't be too bad," Simon replied with a shrug. "The last time they had to pull your files they told me that since they have to do it so often, they just decided to go ahead and give you your own set of filing cabinets."

"Now why don't I find that reassuring," Ellison replied, drolly.

"Hey Guys!" Joel Taggert greeted them as he arrived. "How's Blair?"

"Physically, the doc says he's gonna be fine," Simon informed the new arrival.

"Physically?" Joel questioned, just as the doctor emerged from Blair's room.

The doctor was not pleased to see Jim still there. "Detective Ellison," he warned. "I will have you banned from this hospital if necessary..."

"How is he?" Jim asked, ignoring the threat.

"I was forced to sedate him," the doctor replied.

"Doctor, we think Blair might have been drugged without his knowledge," Simon told the man. "Can you do a complete blood work up on him and check it out?"

The doctor nodded. "I'll have a nurse get right on it."

"Also," Simon added, deciding to press his advantage. "I need to question Blair. We need to know what happened."

"I don't know how much you'll be able to get out of him, the sedative's already started to take affect."

"Thank you Doctor."

"But you and only you," the doctor warned. "I won't have Mr. Sandburg upset again, is that understood?"

"Perfectly," Simon assured him.

Apparently satisfied, the doctor left them to see to his next patient.

With a sigh of relief, Simon turned to the other two men. "I want the two of you to get back to the station and start going through those case files. I'll call ahead to let them know you're coming and to request an officer to be assigned to guard Sandburg's room. As soon as I've questioned Blair and the officer has arrived, I'll be in to join you."

"Right," Jim acknowledged. "Ah Sir, what about the waterfront robbery case?"

"I'll assign a couple of other officers to it for now."

"But what about the Commissioner, won't he be upset?"

Simon grinned. "I won't tell him about this if you don't."

Ellison returned the smile.

"I'm sorry Jim," Simon apologized. "Sometimes the line between captain and friend gets a little blurred. Those two guards are already dead and we will find their killer, but right now our primary goal should be to keep Sandburg alive until we can find out who or what is doing this to him."

Jim was overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you Sir." With one final look at Sandburg's closed door, he turned and headed down the corridor.

"So Jim," Joel could be heard asking as they moved away, "you want to tell me what this is all about?"

"It's a long story."

Joel grinned and placed an arm around Ellison's shoulder. "Well lucky for me we'll have plenty of time on the ride back to the station. Oh, by the way, when some of the guys heard what happened, they went over to the loft and boarded up the balcony doors..."

As Joel's voice trailed off, Simon placed his call. Satisfied that everything was set, he placed his hand on the door to Blair's room and pushed it open.

Simon gasped as he stepped into the room and took his first good look at Blair. Multiple cuts dotted his face, neck, and arms. His right forearm swathed in a thick bandage. The fluorescent lights of the room plainly revealed the bruising on his forehead, chin and jaw. Christ, he thought. The kid looks like he's been through a meat grinder. Sandburg appeared to be already sleeping and Simon loathed the thought of waking him. "Blair," he called gently, hoping to avoid startling him, "it's Simon."

Heavy, drug laden eyelids slowly opened to reveal dazed orbs of blue. "Simon?" He frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to ask you some questions. I need you to tell me what happened." Simon watched as a shuttered look came into Sandburg's eyes. "I know you don't want to talk about this, but you've got to so we can stop whoever's doing this to you."

As Blair looked away, Simon formulated his next question. "We know someone visited you at the loft, who was it?"

"Doctor Raines," came the soft reply.

"The psychologist?" Simon asked, surprised. Blair nodded slightly. "What was she doing there?"

Blair's hand came up in an attempt to wipe away the encroaching weariness. "I called and asked her to come over. I needed to talk to her."

"About what?"

Blair's eyelids slid closed, only to be forced open again a moment later. "I'd rather not say Simon."

"All right," Simon acquiesced. "Will you at least tell me what happened?"

Feeling the effects of the sedative, Blair was having trouble concentrating. Slowly, intermittingly between yawns, he told Simon about Katherine's visit, stringently avoiding any mention of the topic of conversation.

Simon inquired as to what time she left and what had happened after that.

Blair shrugged. "I guess I fell asleep on the couch."

Simon waited for Blair to continue. "So what happened between the time you fell asleep and when Jim found you?" Simon prompted when Blair refused to elaborate further. Again Blair eluded Simon's gaze. It was obvious he couldn't, or more precisely wouldn't, answer the question.

Speculatively, he eyed the younger man. Simon hated to ask it, but considering Blair's earlier reaction, he didn't have much of a choice. "Was it Jim?"

Blair's gaze darted anxiously away, refusing to meet the penetrating gaze of those inquisitive brown eyes. Unconsciously gnawing on his lower lip, Blair wondered how to answer the question. Simon was waiting patiently, but it was growing increasingly harder to muster a coherent thought. He felt a heavy mantel of weariness slowly descending upon him. His eyelids drifted shut. Maybe I should just let Simon think I've fallen asleep, he thought. Then I won't have to answer... Evasion became reality as sleep finally claimed him.

Simon stood watching the sleeping grad student, his thoughts more confused now than when he had first entered the room. He knew there was no way in hell Ellison had done this to Sandburg, but it was evident that's exactly who Blair thought was responsible. Just one more piece in a rapidly growing puzzle of a case.

A knock on the door brought Simon out of his contemplations. He opened the door to admit Officer Willis and, after quickly apprising him of the situation, left him standing guard over Blair while he returned to the station.

With a growl of frustration, Jim slammed down the telephone. "Still no luck?" Joel asked, looking up from his perusal of Jim's old case files.

"No," Jim replied. "Her office said that she's taking a personal day and they don't know how to get in touch with her."

"Well, maybe Sandburg will be able to tell Simon something that'll help us," Joel suggested.

"I hope so," Jim replied, tossing another file onto the discard pile. "Because right now we've got squat."

The phone, recently abused by Jim, rang. "Ellison," he answered, then listened intently. Perplexed, he thanked the caller and hung up. "That's odd," he mumbled to no one in particular.

Joel looked up from his reading. "What?"

The fingerprints on the other cup belong to Dr. Raines."

"The psychologist? What was she doing there?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Jim replied, "especially since Blair already has an appointment with her tomorrow."

Rhonda approached Jim's desk, handing him a file. "The lab just sent this up, they said you were waiting for it."

Jim glanced at the file label. "Yeah, I am. Thanks Rhonda." He opened the file and began reading aloud for Joel's benefit, when something of interest caught his attention. "It says here that the chemical residue in the bathroom sink was a cleaner, more specifically, a stain remover."

"So, you think Blair might have spilt something and left whatever it was in the sink to soak?" Joel speculated.

"Not necessarily. More likely whatever the item was belonged to Dr. Raines since we didn't find any wet garments in the loft."

"Interesting, but it still doesn't give us anything to go on," Joel pointed out.

Jim skimmed further down the page until he spotted something of major significance. "No, but this does. Blair's cup contained traces of an unknown chemical."

Taggert frowned. "Do you think he was drugged?"

"I'm sure of it," Jim replied, looking up thoughtfully. "And I think Dr. Raines is the one responsible."

"Why would she do something like that?" Joel asked.

"That's what we need to find out," Jim said, already reaching for the phone.

Just then, Simon appeared in the bullpen, calling Jim into his office.

"Go ahead," Joel told him, taking the phone from Ellison's hand. "I'll take care of this."

Jim murmured his thanks to the captain and headed for Simon's office. "How's Sandburg?" he inquired, shutting the door behind him.

"He was sleeping when I left," Simon responded, dreading what he had to do next. "Take a seat Jim," he instructed the detective.

Complying, Jim frowned. "What's up Simon?"

Unconsciously handling one of the several Hummel figurines decorating his desk, Simon couldn't think of a gentle way to put it, so he just said it. "Sandburg thinks you're the one who's been attacking him..."

Jim's head shot up in surprise. "He told you that ?"

"No," Simon told him. "In fact, he refused to say anything, but he couldn't hide his reaction when I asked him straight out if it was you."

"You don't honestly think that I..." Jim bellowed, rising to his feet.

"Of course not," Simon interrupted the tirade. "But it does explain why he's afraid of you."

"None of this makes any sense," Jim ground out between clenched teeth.

Silently, Simon agreed. Aloud, he asked, "Have you been able to come up with anything yet?"

"Yeah, the fingerprints on the other cup belong to Dr. Raines."

Simon nodded. "Sandburg told me he asked her to come over this morning. That he needed to talk to her."

"Did he say why?" Jim asked.

Simon shook his head. "Another thing he wouldn't talk about."

Damn, another dead end, Jim thought. "We also found traces of an, as yet, unidentifiable drug in Sandburg's cup," he told the captain.

"Well, that would explain his unusual behavior," Simon acknowledged, "but how did it get in there?"

"I've got a theory about that," Jim told him. "I think it was Dr. Raines."

That got Simon's attention. "What! Why on Earth would she do something like that?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't know that yet, but it's the only thing right now that makes any sense, otherwise, they would have found residual traces of the drug in her cup as well."

Simon wasn't totally convinced. "Come on Jim, Sandburg's been behaving strangely for months now. He only met Dr. Raines yesterday."

"I know and I can't explain it yet, but I know I'm right about this. Think about it Simon. Blair was totally off the wall yesterday, this after having had a three hour session with her."

Simon did think about it. "Okay, I'll admit the possibility. The question that still remains, though, is why?"

"I haven't figured that out yet. Joel's getting a copy of her records. Maybe something in there will give us a clue."

"Why not just bring her in for questioning?"

"That's just it. It seems she's taken a personal day and no one knows how to get in touch with her."

"Curiouser and curiouser," Simon pondered. "Okay Jim, keep on it and, in the meantime, I'll call the hospital and see if they can't put a rush on those blood tests."

"Right," Ellison replied.

Blair woke with a start. "Oh man," he moaned, remembering the remnants of the nightmare that had managed to awaken him from a drug induced sleep. He concentrated on his breathing, desperately trying to control the tremors of distress coursing through his body. Slowly, the tremors subsided, then ceased altogether. Reaching for the pitcher of water on the nightstand, Blair poured himself a drink. The cool water helping to dissipate the lingering effects of the sedative.

Now that he was awake, with only the remotest of possibilities of getting additional sleep, his thoughts turned inward. Despite his best intentions not to implicate Jim in the attacks, Blair knew that Simon had come to suspect just that. That's crazy! Blair silently admonished himself. Jim would never hurt me.

Oh yeah? his inner voice taunted. Then how come it's his face you see every time you close your eyes?

Blair groaned. Maybe he was going crazy. It was easier to believe that than the idea that Jim Ellison periodically went psycho and beat the shit out of him.

Jim! Oh God, what must he be thinking. Blair mentally cringed, recalling his earlier behavior towards his best friend. He had to talk to Jim, had to let him know that he had been wrong, that he knew in his heart, if not in his fucked up mind, that Jim would never do anything like that. He reached for the phone. Pausing midway, he pulled his hand back. No, he had to see Jim, to tell him face to face. He owed him at least that much.

Pushing back the covers, he slid out of bed, wincing slightly as the movement reminded him of his injuries. Opening the closet door, he grimaced with distaste at the blood spattered clothes hanging there. Well, it's not  like I have much  of a choice, he thought and began dressing.

As the minutes continued to tick by, Blair felt the urgency to talk to his friend grow in magnitude. Preferring not to be delayed by the hospitals standard discharge procedures, Blair carefully opened the door and peered out into the hallway. Good. The coast is clear. He looked around and spotted the elevator a few doors down. Without a backwards glance, he strolled, as casually as possible, down the hall and into the waiting elevator.

Moments later, Officer Willis returned from his trip to the men's room and resumed his post.

Blair breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out into the early evening air unaccosted by hospital personnel. His relief quickly turned to consternation as he realized he had no transportation. In fact, he didn't even have his wallet with him to pay for a cab. "Oh, just great!" he swore aloud. "Now what am I going to do?" he grumbled just as a sleek gray sedan pulled up to the curb. The driver side window slid down revealing Dr. Raines.

"Blair," she exclaimed. "I just heard what happened and was on my way to see you."

"Katherine, oh man, am I glad to see you. Could you give me a lift to the station?"

"Are you sure? You don't look like you're in any condition to go anywhere."

"I'm fine," Blair assured her. "Please," he pleaded, utilizing his infamous puppy dog eyes. "It's really important."

She only took a moment to consider before replying, "Sure, hop on in."

Blair's face lit up. Flashing her a smile of gratitude, he went around to the other side of the car and got in. Buckling up his seat belt, he turned to Katherine. "Thanks, I really appreciate this."

Checking the rear view mirror, Katherine maneuvered the car out of the lot. "Glad I can help," came the reply.

Mentally rehearsing what he was going to say to Jim, Blair didn't see Katherine's self satisfied smile.

"He what!?!" Simon's bellow could be heard clear across the Major Crimes' bullpen. "Damn it Willis, how hard can it be to watch a heavily sedated, injured anthropologist?"

Willis tried to explain the circumstances.

"Never mind that," Simon snapped. "I want you to start interviewing anyone who may have seen Sandburg and you'd better hope to God that nothing happens to the kid in the meantime or you're going to find yourself busted back to beat cop. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

Willis stuttered his reply.

"Just see that you do," Simon barked, slamming down the phone. With a heavy sigh, he went to the door of his office and scanned the bullpen looking for Jim. Not seeing him, he bellowed, "Find me Ellison, now!" And with that, he went back into his office, slamming the door behind him.

Closing his eyes, Blair sank back into the cool soft leather of the seat, allowing his body to relax, though his thoughts were in turmoil. Disjointed images of Jim attacking him repeatedly flashed across his mind's eye. No! This is wrong, he cried out silently. Desperately, he sought to replace those insidious images with those he knew to be true, of the man he knew James Ellison to be.

Katherine Raines glanced over at her silent passenger. Damn you, she thought, her anger at the young man growing, and damn James Ellison. What hold is it he has over you, that even the drug and hypnosis can't break the faith you have in him? No matter, before I'm through, I will break you and you will kill Ellison.

Slipping a hand into her jacket pocket, she pulled out a hypodermic syringe. Thumbing off the cap, in one swift, flawless motion, she inserted the needle through Blair's jeans and into his thigh.

Blair yelped, his eyes flying open in shock and pain. He looked with disbelief at the hypodermic embedded in his leg, then lifted accusing eyes questioningly to Katherine. "Why?" he demanded, aghast.

"Why? To help you to relax, of course." She smiled sweetly at him, the smile never quite reaching her eyes, and Blair felt apprehension at what he saw reflected there.

Turning from the gaze before it could entrap him in it's evil snare, Blair reached for the release catch on his seat belt. Whatever it was she had injected him with was already affecting his motor skills. Fumbling with the catch, he nearly sobbed with relief when he felt it finally give way. Reaching for the door handle, his only thought was an overwhelming need to escape.

Katherine grabbed a handful of the curly, chestnut colored hair, cruelly yanking him back across the seat. Blair winced at the pain, biting back the cry that would have escaped his lips. He grabbed onto the offending hand, trying to dislodge it, but she held fast. "Don't fight it Blair. It will go a lot easier for you if you don't fight it."

Blair wanted to give into that voice. Already he could feel the lethargic fingers of the drug creeping over him, but some inner sixth sense, the primal urge to survive, screamed at him to fight and fight he did. He lashed out at Katherine with his diminishing strength, arms flailing.

In her attempts to control him, Katherine was having trouble maintaining control of the car, causing it to swerve back and forth across the single lane highway. "Stop it Blair, you're making me angry," she warned.

Ignoring the intimidating tone, Blair continued to struggle even as he felt his strength ebbing. "Oh God! Jim, help me!" he cried out.

"That does it!" Katherine snapped. Renewing her relentless grip, she slammed Blair's head into the dash board. Abruptly, his struggles ceased. Wresting him back onto the seat, she watched with satisfaction as the light in the normally vibrant blue eyes dimmed, then faded altogether as he slipped into unconsciousness. Flinging him away from her, Katherine regained full control of the car and, humming a haunting tune, continued onto their final destination.

"What the hell do you mean he's missing?" Ellison thundered upon hearing of Blair's disappearance.

"Now Jim, calm down. I've got Willis questioning the hospital staff, we'll find him," Simon tried to placate the angry detective.

"If he'd been doing his damn job, we never would have lost Blair in the first place!

"Jim, the kid was sedated. No one could have expected him just to get up and walk out like that."

Ellison shot his captain an exasperated look. "This is Sandburg we're talking about," he reminded Simon.

Simon had the grace to look abashed. "Yeah, well, if he can give a seasoned pro like Taggert the slip, what chance did a rookie like Willis have?"

Ellison began pacing the office, thinking aloud. "All right, we know he didn't have any money on him and he doesn't have transportation," he turned to Simon, "so where the hell would he go?"

Simon shrugged. "Where Sandburg's concerned, who knows."

"Are we sure he left on his own?" Jim asked, an unsettling foreboding beginning to grow.

"Right now we're not sure of anything," Simon admitted.

Fuming, Jim slammed his hand down on Simon's desk, causing the older man to wince in commiseration. "Damn it! I never should have left him."

"I've got units stationed at both the loft and the university in case he shows up there. Joel's tracing down Dr. Raines' license plate through the DMV and I've subpoenaed her phone records. We're doing everything we possibly can Jim," Simon assured him.

Intellectually, Jim knew that. Emotionally, however, was another matter entirely.

"Is there anything in her file that might help?" Simon inquired, nodding towards the manila file folder Jim held.

Despite having gone to records to personally pick up Dr. Raines' personnel file, Jim blinked and looked at it as if seeing it for the first time. With a slight shake of his head to dispel the confusion, he opened the file and began reading, only to stop a moment later as Simon's phone rang.

"Banks," Simon answered, then listened intently for the next few minutes. "And they're sure about this?" Another pause and Jim raised a questioning eyebrow. "Okay, get their statement and get back here as soon as possible," he concluded.

"What?" Jim inquired before Simon even hung up.

"That was Willis. Sandburg was seen getting into a gray sedan parked in front of the hospital."

"Okay, so we know he left under his own steam. Was Willis able to get a description on the driver of the vehicle that picked him up?"

Simon took off his glasses and tried in vain to rub away the sudden onslaught of weariness.

"Simon?" Jim asked again, growing concerned in view of Simon's demeanor.

"The driver's description matches that of Dr. Raines."

Even though he had seen it coming, Jim felt as if he had been sucker punched. "We've got to find him Simon." His expression emphasizing the gravity of his words.

With a nod, Simon agreed. Picking up the phone, he requested an APB be issued on Sandburg, Dr. Raines and her vehicle.

Cliff Haven, once the epitome of private facilities for the mentally infirmed, stood like a silent sentinel in the diminishing twilight that signaled the inevitable coming of night. Abandonment these last twelve years had left it a mere shadow of it's former grandeur, but it suited Katherine's requirements quite satisfactory.

Fastening the last of the leather wrist bindings securing Blair to the examination table, she lifted one of his eyelids, checking to gauge his depth of unconsciousness. It wouldn't be long now before she could continue with his conditioning.

Stepping over to the drug cabinet, she opened the door and removed a vile of the toxin with which she had been slowly drugging the young man with for months. Tasteless, odorless, unless combined with specific chemicals, he'd never even realized that his favorite blend of tea had been laced with something extra. Unfortunately, the results weren't as reliable as Mr. Woo, the apothecary at the herb shop where Blair had purchased the tea, had assured her it would be.

Inserting the syringe into the vile, she carefully measured out the equivalent of six times the dose normally ingested in a single cup of tea. Behind her she heard Blair begin to stir. Turning, she walked back over to the inert form and inserted the contents of the syringe into the IV already in place. Stepping back, eyes narrowed, she contemplated the effects of the increased dosage.

Somehow, despite the concentrated build up in his system, Blair had not lost his faith in Ellison. Yes, there had been times when Blair had feared him on occasion, that much she knew from their sessions, but ultimately she was unable to break through the final barrier that would enable her to turn him into a killer, and that barrier was a man named James Ellison. "You will succumb to me," she told Blair as he fought to regain consciousness. "Ellison must be made to pay."

No matter how many times he read it, it was evident that the information contained in Katherine Raines' file only went back to the year 1975 where she simply ceased to exist. Whether this was some filing error or a deliberate oversight on her part, Jim didn't know, but it did raise some interesting questions.

Heading back to his office, Simon paused, asking the same question he'd asked the last three times he had come within Jim's vicinity. "Anything?"

Irritably, Jim shook his head. "No, I know I'm missing something, but I can't put my finger on it." Pushing the file away in a fit of frustration, he sank back into his chair and looked up at Simon. "Other than the missing years before 1975, everything appears to be in order."

Simon picked up the discarded file and began examining it's contents. "You're right," he admitted a few minutes later. "Although, I have to wonder why she gave up such a lucrative practice at a place like Cliff Haven to go to work for the police department."

Jim's brow furrowed in thought. Cliff Haven.

Simon noticed the expression. "You got something?"

"It's just that name rings a bell for some reason," Jim replied, unsure.

"One of your old cases maybe," Simon suggested.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Captain," Rhonda called across the bullpen. "Dr. Fortunato, from Cascade General, on line two."

Reaching across Jim's desk, Simon pressed the appropriate button to place the call on speakerphone. "Simon Banks," he answered. "What have you got for me doctor?"

"The news is not good Captain," came Fortunato's disembodied voice. "The chemical found in Mr. Sandburg's system is a derivative from a plant found in the mountain regions of China. Its effects range from mood swings to disorientation and can cause hallucinations. However, it's most serious side effect is it's toxicity level. If ingested over a period of time, it will kill the individual."

Jim and Simon exchanged startled, worried glances. "Just how bad is it in Sandburg's case?" Simon voiced the question Jim was afraid to ask.

"Let me put it this way Captain. Assuming Mr. Sandburg were to continue to consume the substance on a daily basis, even on the most minute levels, the toxicity level would reach critical proportions in about two weeks."

"I see," Simon muttered, stunned.

"It's imperative that Mr. Sandburg be hospitalized immediately."

Clearing his throat, Simon thanked the doctor, assuring him that everything humanly possible was being done to locate the missing Sandburg.

A hush fell across the bullpen, the eyes of its occupants focused on Ellison. Simon didn't have to look at the detective's face to know what he'd see reflected there, because he felt it himself. The helplessness, the fear. "Let's get to work people," he bellowed, breaking the spell.

Confident that the others would double their efforts in light of the new development, Simon turned back to face the troubled detective. Laying a comforting hand on Jim's shoulder, he suggested, "Why don't you take a break."

"I can't," Jim began to protest.

"Don't make me have to make that an order Jim." Simon's tone brooked no argument.

Running a hand over his weary face, Jim reluctantly responded. "Yeah, well, maybe I could use a cup of coffee." Aware of his captain's concerned scrutiny, Ellison headed for the break room.

"Jim!" Taggert called immediately upon his return to the bullpen. "Dr. Raines' phone records just came in."

Thanking Joel, Jim carried the folder back to his desk. Sitting down the untouched coffee, he opened the file and examined the list of calls, searching for some clue that might lead to a breakthrough.

"Anything?" Joel asked from his hovering position over Jim's shoulder.

"Maybe," Jim replied. "There are several calls here to Woo's Apothecary Shop." He looked up from his reading. "There's something familiar..." Jim snapped his fingers. "That's it! That's why the name seemed familiar. Sandburg buys his teas and some other weird concoctions there."

"Okay, well knowing Blair, that makes sense. But why would Dr. Raines be calling there?" Joel asked, thoughtfully.

Jim rose from his desk, grabbing his jacket. "That's what we need to find out."

"Jim, wait up," Taggert called, racing to catch up to the departing detective. "I'm coming with you."

From a far off distance, Blair heard someone calling him. He didn't want to listen, being quite content to remain languishing in the tranquil black pool, but the voice insisted and he found it impossible not to obey.

Slowly, he emerged from the murky depths towards the siren's call. The black void began to spin, growing lighter with each rotation. Turning from black, to blue, then gray, and finally a blinding white as his eyelids swept open.

Blair whimpered as the brightness of the light sent a sharp, stabbing pain through his skull. Clamping his eyes shut, the nausea, which had accompanied his journey through the swirling maelstrom back towards consciousness, rose to the back of this throat. Gagging, Blair turned his head to the side, swallowing hard to force the bile back down. Pressing his lips tightly shut, Blair concentrated on breathing, his nostrils constricting, then flaring, with each harshly drawn breath.

Even as the nausea subsided, Blair felt a chill methodically creeping over him. He began to shiver, the trembling growing more pronounced as the icy numbness eventually encased his entire body.

For the past fifteen minutes, Katherine Raines had dispassionately observed Blair's struggles, only vaguely wondering if perhaps she had given him too much of the drug. Adjusting the IV drip, she leaned over the shuddering form. "Blair, can you hear me?"

"Yes," he moaned in unmistakable misery.

"Open your eyes and look at me," Katherine ordered.

Hurting, sick and disoriented, he unconsciously complied.

Katherine fished in her pocket, pulling out a gold medallion. Holding it by its matching gold chain, she twirled the object within Blair's view. "Look at the medallion Blair. See the way the light reflects off its surface."

Captivated by the shimmering display, cognizant thought faded until only the rainbow colored myriad of lights and Katherine's voice remained. Sensing his capitulation, she smiled. "Good. Now I want you to listen to me very carefully..."

The classic blue and white pickup turned right onto Central and 5th and jerked to a brusque stop in front of Woo's Apothecary. Joel hadn't even released his death like grip on the dashboard before Jim was out of the truck, striding towards the shop.

The lights inside the shop were dim and a closed sign was prominently displayed on the door. Jim peered through the glass, scanning the interior. Towards the back, he perceived movement and extended his enhanced sight to bring the object into focus. An elderly Chinese man, presumably Mr. Woo, was shuffling towards a door labeled office. Jim knocked on the door, halting his progress. Impatiently, he watched as the man reversed course and headed towards the front of the store, stopping a few feet away from the door.

"We closed," the man said, then turned away.

Aggravated, Jim rattled the doorknob. "Take it easy Jim," Joel spoke from behind him. Producing his badge, he stepped past Ellison. "Cascade Police," he said loudly enough for the occupant inside to hear.

Mr. Woo cautiously approached and, after carefully examining Joel's credentials, unlocked and opened the door, allowing the two of them to enter. "How may I help you gentlemen?" he asked, eying them warily.

Jim spoke up. "Our records show that Dr. Katherine Raines, a psychologist for the Cascade PD, has placed several calls to this number. We'd like to know what those calls were in reference to?"

The old man's brows furrowed as if in thought. With an imperceivable tilt of his head, Jim turned up the imaginary sound dial on his hearing to monitor Woo's vitals, cocking an eyebrow in surprise when he discovered the slightly accelerated rate. He knows something, Jim thought.

"Perhaps this would help," Joel suggested, producing a picture of Raines and handing it to the man.

Woo made a great display of supposedly studying the photograph before expending a sigh. "Sorry, not look familiar," he said, giving the photo back.

Without conscious thought, Jim slapped it out of his hand, grabbed the older man by his shirt front and slammed him against some shelves.

Taggert was shocked by the action. "Jim!"

"Okay, let's cut the bull !" Jim ground out through clenched teeth, ignoring Joel's protest. "She's taken my partner Blair Sandburg. I'm sure you remember him. Long hair, very trusting, a regular customer of yours. Now, you're going to tell me exactly what business she had with you."

Woo swallowed, but remained silent. His eyes darting around, searching for a means of escape. Jim hauled him forward then thrust him back against the shelves once more. "Start talking."

Confronted with the towering terror known as James Ellison, Woo's resolve faltered, crumbling entirely when Joel Taggert stepped closer, narrowing his eyes threateningly. He started to babble. "Doctor want rare plant. Say mix with Mr. Sandburg's tea order."

Jim flashed back to the scene at the loft, recalling the strange odor he had smelt in Sandburg's cup. The tea! "Son of a ..." Jim snarled. "You? You're the bastard that's been poisoning my partner? He's been drinking that shit for months!"

"Jim," Joel warned.

Jim stared menacingly at the frightened shop keeper before thrusting him towards Taggert. "Just get him out of my sight," he growled before striding angrily out the door. Pausing on the sidewalk, Jim began inhaling and exhaling the cool night air. Slowly, the overwhelming rage he felt began to subside.

Flashing blue lights signaled the arrival of a police cruiser. As the officers got out, Joel relinquished Woo into their custody and headed towards Jim. "You okay buddy?" he asked, laying a hand on Ellison's shoulder.

"No," he replied, looking into the concerned face of his friend. "I'm not."

Katherine put a hand to the back of her neck, rubbing at the tension that had built up there over the last few hours. Aided by the combined effects of the drug and hypnosis, she had methodically led Blair through a series of scenarios in which Jim Ellison played a prominent role. In each one he was portrayed as abusive, ruthless and homicidal. New memories, which in reality never occurred, were implanted in Blair. Through her words, Katherine painted vivid scenes of abuse and violence in which Blair had suffered dreadfully at the hands of Ellison.

It hadn't been easy. Blair had fought her every step of the way, steadfastly refusing to believe the horrific images of his friend. Necessity had demanded that she administer even more of the drug before finally managing to break him.

In actuality, his final capitulation had frightened her. He had reacted so frenzied, screaming his final denial before succumbing to tremors that shook his slight frame with frightening ferocity. His blood pressure had skyrocketed. His heartbeat went on a rioting rampage. Checking his vitals again, she smiled with satisfaction when his condition finally appeared to be stabilizing. Unfastening the no longer needed restraints, she tenderly brushed back the sweat soaked curls from his glistening face. She frowned slightly at his pallid complexion, but decided that some rest would restore it's former luster.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee, Katherine sat down on the rooms only chair. Having planted some final post hypnotic suggestions, she had already released Blair from the trance. Now all she had to do was wait for him to wake up. Eagerly anticipating Ellison's fate, she glanced impatiently at her watch and hoped it wouldn't take too long.

Ellison looked through the glass, his entire focus intent on the elderly Chinese man currently being interrogated. Jim had wanted to be the one to question him, but after hearing Joel's report on Ellison's behavior at the arrest, Simon had refused to even let him in the room.

The man sat hunched between the two intimidating figures of Banks and Taggert. They had been at this for almost two hours and were still no closer to finding Sandburg then they were before. No, he hadn't known that Dr. Raines had planned to kidnap the young man. No, he had no idea of where she might have taken him. He never asked any questions and she had not divulged any details.

Jim felt his anger and frustration growing by the minute. If it hadn't been for his sentinel abilities assuring him that Woo was telling the truth, he would have stormed in there and, Simon or no Simon, beat the answers out of the man. This line of questioning was getting them nowhere. He was quickly losing patience and couldn't help but feel that Sandburg was swiftly running out of time.

He glanced up as Simon stepped out of the interrogation room and into the corridor. The older man's demeanor said it all. "We're not going to get anything more out of him."

Jim was incensed. "We've got to. Right now he's our only lead."

Simon held up his hands in defeat. "You heard him, he doesn't know anything."

Jim forced himself to push past the frustration and fear. Forced himself to think. There had to be something they were overlooking, but what? He mulled the possibilities over in his mind. Finally, his head snapped up. "Ask him why."

"Why, what?" Simon questioned with a confused frown.

"Ask him why he agreed to help her. Look at him Simon," Jim said with a nod towards Woo. "Does he look like the type that would willingly agree to help poison a man?"

Simon took a minute to study Woo, then turned to Ellison. "You might have something there Jim," he concurred and, with a flicker of renewed hope, went back inside.

Woo didn't even look up as Simon reentered the interrogation room, he merely sat there staring down at the table. Nonchalantly, Simon leaned back against the door, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Why did you help her?"

Woo looked up, startled by the question. His eyes flittered back to the table. Banks and Taggert exchanged knowing glances. At some unspoken communication between the two cops, Joel leaned down close to the man. "I suggest you answer the man's question, otherwise, Captain Banks and I just might remember an urgent appointment and leave Detective Ellison to continue with your questioning." Woo shifted nervously in the chair. Joel continued, "You remember Detective Ellison, don't you? Blair Sandburg's friend and partner..."

"Can't help you," the old man stubbornly insisted.

Simon stepped aside an opened the door. "Jim," he called.

Ellison entered the room, his light blue eyes cold and hard as steel. Woo took one look at Jim's angry countenance and blanched. He turned worried, pleading eyes towards the two departing men. "You can't leave me here with him!"

Simon paused. Looking back, no mercy was evident on his stern features. "What you don't seem to realize is that Blair Sandburg is a well liked, highly valued member of this department and, right now, there isn't an officer on the entire force who would be willing to intercede on your behalf." And on that note Simon strode out the door.

Joel stopped beside Ellison. Laying a hand on Jim's arm, he spoke loudly enough for Woo to hear. "Try to leave this one intact. The coroner bitched last time about the mess you left." Jim barely nodded, his entire focus centered on Woo. With a final encouraging pat on the arm, Taggert followed Simon out, shutting the door firmly behind him.

"You've got five seconds to start talking or there won't be enough left of you to fill a bucket." Ellison's tone was void of any emotion except that of barely controlled fury. He began counting. "Five."

"You can't do this!" Woo protested.

"Four."

Woo's eyes flickered towards the exit, judging his chance of escape.

"Three."

"You crazy!"

"Two."

"Please, I can't..." the elderly man pleaded.

"One." Ellison reached out, hauling the diminutive man out of the chair and over the table.

Woo's resolve broke and he began to babble.

As the uniformed officer escorted a very subdued Mr. Woo away, Simon shook his head in amazement. His "Nice performance Jim, hell, you even had me worried there for a minute" was meet with a blank look from Ellison.

Stunned by Ellison's reaction, Simon cleared his throat before continuing. "As I was saying, nice job, but I don't see that it gives us anything to go on."

"Maybe, maybe not," Jim replied. Something the old man had said was nagging away at him. Apparently fifteen years ago, Dr. Raines was called in as a consultant on a murder case involving Woo's daughter. According to Woo, Raines had promised to convince the jury of his daughter's insanity, thus assuring a not guilty verdict. She hadn't asked for any favors at the time, but over the course of the years would periodically come into his shop for herbs and such. Then a couple of months ago, she showed up again and finally called in her marker. She ordered him to mix the rare, toxic plant in with Sandburg's regular tea order. He had tried to protest, finally relenting when she threatened to recant her testimony regarding his daughter's sanity. Fearing his only child would have to spend the rest of her life in prison rather than a mental hospital, he had finally agreed to her demands.

Ellison returned to his desk and, opening Katherine Raines' personal file, began to skim through the information once again.

"What is it Jim?" Simon asked, curious.

Finding what he was searching for, Ellison looked up at his captain. "According to this, Raines was working at Cliff Haven at the time of the murder trial."

Simon shrugged. "So?"

"So how did she become involved?"

"Good question," Simon admitted. "I'll call downstairs and have them ask Woo."

While Simon checked into that, Jim followed up on another hunch. Every time he had heard the name Cliff Haven, it tickled something in the farthest recesses of his mind. Since the institution had once been a psychiatric hospital, Jim instructed the officers reviewing his old case files to examine only those involving perpetrators with psychological disorders and to cross reference those cases with any mention of Cliff Haven.

Finally feeling as if he were onto something, Jim allowed himself to think about the possibility of finding Blair. Hang on buddy. Just hang on..."

Blair turned fretfully in his sleep, curling in upon himself as if trying to ward off an invisible blow. He murmured something, unintelligible except for the note of fear in his voice. For the last forty five minutes the nightmares, occurring with increasing frequency, had also grown in intensity. Blair cried out, taking a swing at the phantom figure in his dreams, the momentum of the act tumbling him off of the examination table and onto the floor. Katherine was beside him in an instant.

Awake now, yet still caught up in the throes of the nightmare, Blair's mind only registered the presence of another individual. The inborn instinct for survival sent him retreating from that presence, desperately trying to scramble to his feet, only to collapse as shaky legs refused to support him. He lay there, his breath coming in gasping sobs as waves of pain washed over him.

The entire time, Katherine had kept up a continuous flow of reassuring words, making no attempt to approach the terrified young man. Eventually, her soothing words began to penetrate his fear shrouded mind. The nightmares began to recede and awareness returned to his translucent blue eyes.

"Katherine?" Blair blinked, confused. His voice raspy from dehydration and soul wrenching screams.

She approached him, cautiously, as one might approach an injured animal. Although Blair's entire body fairly vibrated with pent up anxiety, he didn't try to flee. Encouraged, she moved closer. Kneeling, she gathered the confused, vulnerable man into a reassuring embrace. "It's all right Blair. You're safe here. No one is going to hurt you."

Slowly, the trembling subsided and he relaxed into her arms. "Better now?" she asked, raising his chin until his eyes were forced to meet hers. He nodded slightly. Gently, she brushed the hair away from his face. "I know you're hurt and confused right now, but I promise you, soon it will all be over and you'll be safe."

With his help, Katherine was able to get Blair comfortably resettled on the examination table. Exhausted, his eyes drifted shut, missing entirely her cold, cruel, calculating look.

A short time later, Simon reappeared at Ellison's desk. Jim looked up, hopeful. "According to Woo, Raines approached him regarding his daughter's case," Simon told him.

"Why would she do that?" Jim asked, frowning. "Unless," he continued to speculate, "she wanted something from him."

"His knowledge of herbs," Simon suggested.

"More than likely," Ellison agreed. "I'm betting if we ask Woo we'll discover that this isn't the first time he's supplied her with potentially dangerous herbs."

Simon sighed. "Unfortunately that doesn't bring us any closer to finding Sandburg."

"No," Joel Taggert agreed from nearby, "but maybe this will." Rising from the desk at which he'd been working, Joel crossed the short distance. Laying a file on Ellison's desk, he pointed out the item that had caught his attention.

Simon read the name on the file label and blanched. "Andrea Alessi!?!" What the hell does she have to do with this? Jim?" he prompted when Ellison appeared to be absorbed in the file.

"According to this, fourteen years ago Alessi was a patient at Cliff Haven," Jim explained, "under the personal supervision of Dr. Katherine Raines. She was in therapy for approximately eight months, at which time she was deemed cured and released."

"Talk about your coincidences," Simon muttered.

"I don't think it is a coincidence," Ellison stated, rising. "I'm going out there and have a look around." Turning, he snatched up his jacket.

"I'll come with you," Taggert offered.

Jim paused, looking back at the concerned expression on Taggert's face. He knew how fond Joel was of Blair, but this was a long shot at best. "I appreciate that, but this might not pan out. I need you to keep searching on this end." At Joel's look of protest, Jim shot Simon a pleading glance.

"Call us the minute you know anything," Simon told the detective, his tone brooking no argument.

"Right." With a quick nod, Ellison headed for the elevator.

Taggert turned to Banks. "Are you sure it was wise to let him go alone?" he asked.

Simon sighed, suddenly feeling older than his actual years. "No, I'm not sure," he replied, honestly, "but Jim's right. I just hope for his and Sandburg's sake, that this doesn't turn out to be another dead end."

Katherine had been studying him for several months and knew James Ellison was capable of doing things that bordered on the inconceivable. She knew it was only a matter of time before he tracked them down, therefore, it wasn't surprising when the security monitor showed him outside the gates of Cliff Haven.

She looked over at Blair's sleeping form and wished for a moment that they had more time. The recent injuries he had sustained, combined with the drug, had taken their toll on the younger man. He really wasn't in any physical shape to do this right now, but the time was at hand and nothing was going to interfere with extracting her revenge on Ellison.

Maybe when this is all over, she thought, after he has killed Ellison, I'll take him with me. Momentarily considering the possibility, she warmed to the idea. Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll take you with me. Going over to Blair, she tenderly caressed his cheek. "You'll never be able to replace my children, but I have grown fond of you in my own way." She brushed the dark brown curls from his forehead. "I'll take good care of you and when you're better, we can start a new life, far away from Cascade and the Ellison's of this world."

She glanced back at the monitor just in time to see Jim squeezing through the chained opening of the gate. It was time. "Blair," she called, shaking the slight form.

"Hum," he mumbled before drifting back towards sleep.

Katherine shook him harder, adding an urgency to her tone. "Blair, you've got to wake up, he's here!"

Dark lashes fluttered open to reveal drowsy blue eyes. "What? Who?" he asked, still not fully awake.

Katherine gripped his arm. "I'm sorry Blair, I don't know how he found us."

Something in Katherine's tone set off warning signals in Blair's mind. "Jim.... Jim is here!?!" he stammered, suddenly afraid.

"Yes, come on," she said, pulling him off the table and to his feet. "We've got to hide you someplace."

Visions of an enraged Ellison flashed through his mind. Blair's heart kicked into double time and his respiration came in short panting breaths. He panicked upon recalling Jim's sentinel abilities. "It won't work, he'll find me!"

Retrieving her purse from the desk, Katherine pulled out a handgun. "Then take this," she told Blair, handing him the gun. "I'll go out and try to lead him away, but if he gets past me, you'll have to use it to protect yourself."

Blair eyed the weapon as if he were handling a snake.

"Blair, are you listening to me?" Katherine asked harshly. Eyes, glazed with fear, looked up, meeting her own. "Ellison isn't going to let this go. He'll kill you. Promise me you'll protect yourself. Please," she implored.

Dazed, Blair nodded. Katherine patted him reassuringly on the arm and started for the door. "NO!" Blair cried out. "You can't, he'll hurt you."

"It isn't me he wants to hurt Blair, it's you. I'll be fine. Just remember your promise." And with a wavering smile, she slipped out the door.

Blair stared wide eyed at the door through which Katherine had just departed, then down at the gun in his trembling hands. Oh my god...oh my god...oh my god... began the mental litany as he stared to hyperventilate. Pinpoints of light began to dot his vision. Blair took a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to calm down. He'd be of no use to either himself or Katherine if he passed out. Katherine, his mind screamed. Oh God! What was I thinking, letting her go out there to face Jim alone. He'll kill her!

Terrified as he was, Blair knew he couldn't let that happen. Katherine was his only friend. The only one who had tried to protect him from Jim's abuse. He had to go help her. Tremors shook his entire body as he made his way across the room. He stopped, momentarily resting his forehead on the cool surface of the door. What's wrong with me? he silently wondered. He couldn't remember a time when he had felt this bad. Swallowing the bile that had  risen in his throat, Blair stepped back and, ignoring the protesting pain of his body, slowly opened the door.

Simon peeked out through the mini blinds, scanning the Major Crimes bullpen. Taggert was nowhere in sight and Detective's Rafe and Brown had just left to book the suspects from the waterfront robberies. Brock Peters, with assistance from the security agency that furnished the night watchmen for a large portion of the warehouse district, had been caught red handed while attempting another heist. Going over to his desk, Simon opened the top right drawer and took out his gun. Checking to make sure it was loaded, he slipped it into its holster beneath his suit coat.

Leaving his office, Simon headed for the elevators. Pushing the down button, the doors slid open to reveal Joel Taggert leaning nonchalantly against the car's back wall. Joel checked the time and grinned. "Damn, I'm good."

Scowling, Simon stepped inside, the doors closing behind him. "What are you talking about?" he asked the smiling Taggert.

Joel shrugged. "I figured it would only take about twenty to thirty minutes before you headed out after Ellison."

"So what are you doing here?" Simon smirked.

Taggert turned serious. "Because you're not the only one worried about them."

Aware of the fact that he now had company, Simon just shook his head in resignation.

Gun drawn, Jim opened the door and cautiously stepped into the main foyer of Cliff Haven. Having spotted her sedan outside, he knew that Raines was there somewhere. Despite the building being shrouded in darkness, Jim had heardthe low level hum of electricity. Not wanting to announce his presence, Ellison adjusted his sight to compensate for the lack of illumination. Visually, he scanned the immediate area and, seeing no one, ventured further inside.

Realizing that there were too many nooks and crannies in which someone could hide, Jim turned up the imaginary dial on his hearing and, with a slight tilt of his head, listened. Off to the left he heard a heartbeat, its cadence unfamiliar.Assuming it was Raines, he extended the parameters of his search, desperately listening for that of his guide.

Jim thought he heard something, then dismissing it as background clutter, moved on. He paused, unsure, and returned to the sound. Filtering out the surrounding sounds, Jim heard it, Blair's heartbeat. Normally Sandburg's heartbeat was as intimate to Jim as his own, easily recognizable no matter what the circumstance, but now it was different.

Jim felt his gut clench in fear as, like a metronome ticking out triple time, Blair's heartbeat would race, then sputter, pause and begin racing again. Worried that the irregular rhythm did not bode well for his friend, Jim started down the corridor directly in front of him. With any luck, he would be able to bypass Raines altogether, get his partner to safety and then come back for her.

Jim found himself mentally cursing the deities as he discovered his route blocked by a securely locked steel door. Having no other alternative, Jim retraced his steps and headed down the left corridor, aware of the fact that Raines now stood between him and his partner.

Okay, fine, he thought, moving stealthily along the hallway. First I deal with Raines, then I get Sandburg. He came to a door marked kitchen and stopped. Raines' heartbeat was close now, somewhere on the other side of door. Reaching out, he slowly pushed the swinging door open and ducked into the room. Crouching, he scanned the kitchen, finding no sign of Raines. At the far end of the room, he spied a set of double doors and heard Raines' heartbeat just beyond them.

Quickly crossing the room, he sidled up to the wall beside the doors and peered through one of their small glass windows. There she was! Facing away from him and heading towards the other side of the room. Ellison slipped quietly through the door. "Freeze! Cascade P.D.," he yelled, training his weapon on Raines. Katherine froze in place. "Put your hands up where I can see them and turn around, slowly."

Perfect, Katherine thought, things couldn't have worked out any better than if I had planned it this way.

"I said turn around." Ellison's tone was dangerous.

Schooling the smile from her features, Katherine complied. "I'm not armed Detective."

Ellison moved towards her, skirting the cluster of tables in the dining hall. "No, you prefer to kill your victims slowly. What I want to know is, why Sandburg?"

"You'll find out soon enough Ellison," Katherine replied, then let out an ear piercing scream.

Jim winced, his hands automatically going up to cover his ears. Seeing he was temporarily disabled, Katherine pushed past Ellison in an effort to escape. Jim reached out, grabbing her by the arm. With a cry of rage, Katherine fought to get away.

"Let her go!" came the demand from the area of the kitchen door.

Both parties ceased struggling. Looking up at the sound of the voice, Jim was astonished to see Sandburg standing there pointing a gun at him. "Blair?" he questioned, frowning in confusion.

"I said, let her go!"

Although the gun was held by trembling hands, Blair's aim didn't falter. Jim released his hold on Raines. Hurrying
over to Blair, she moved to stand behind him. "Oh thank God! I thought he was going to kill me," she gasped in mock horror.

Jim started forward. "Stay back!" Blair yelled frantically.

Ellison stopped dead in his tracks. "Come on Chief, talk to me. What's going on here?"

"Drop the gun," Blair instructed, his eyes never leaving Ellison.

"I can't do that Blair, she's dangerous."

"I don't want to hurt you Jim, but I will. Now drop the gun."

Jim gaped, shocked by Blair's words. What in God's name has she done to you? he wondered, taking a closer look at his best friend and guide. Quite frankly, Blair looked like shit. Amidst the multitude of cuts, bruises and abrasions, beads of perspiration dotted his foreead. He was ghastly pale and looked so fragile Jim wondered how he was managing to remain upright. A quick check of Blair's vitals revealed that both his heart rate and respiration were running rampant, but the thing that scared Jim the most was the sheer look of hate and fear reflected in Sandburg's eyes.

Jim weighed his options and realized he had none. There was no way he was going to hurt Blair. Slowly, he lowered his weapon to the floor. Behind Blair, Katherine Raines stood, smirking in victory.

"Kick it away," Blair ordered and Jim obeyed.

Raising his hands in a non threatening manner, Jim frantically sought for the words that would somehow reach his friend. "Blair, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Raines is the person behind your erratic behavior, she's been poisoning you for months..."

"LIAR!" Blair roared. The gun went off, the bullet embedding itself in a nearby table.

"I'm telling you the truth," Jim insisted, his voice rising in volume. "She had Mr. Woo doctor your tea order with a toxic hallucinogen.

"NO!" The gun exploded again, the bullet striking the floor near Ellison's feet. "You're just playing with my mind, man." Blair's hysteria grew in measure along with the volume of his voice. "You're the one who's dangerous. You're the one that's been hurting me, not Katherine. Well no more!"

Blair's entire body shook and Jim wasn't sure if it was due to the young man's rage or something worse. "Where's all this coming from Chief? You know I've never hurt you."

Blair was incredulous. "No!?! Look at me Jim. You did this to me. Not Katherine, you!"

Jim shook his head in denial. "You're wrong Blair. Just think about it. Try to remember," he implored. "Think about all we've been through together. Remember all the times we've saved each other's lives. I would give my life to protect you Blair and deep down inside you know that. I'm your Blessed Protector, remember?"

Jim watched his partner closely as a sundry of emotions crossed Sandburg's features. Apparently something he had said was getting through to Blair. The gun in his hand wavered. "That's it buddy," Jim spoke softly, carefully advancing towards his partner.

"No! Damn you," Raines howled, sensing victory being wrenched from her grasp. Wresting the gun from Blair's grip, she pushed him towards Ellison.

Catching Blair as he stumbled, Jim wrapped his arms securely around his partner. Closing his eyes, Jim breathed in the scent of his friend and offered up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deities might have been listening.

"Why?" Katherine whined. Jim opened his eyes to discover her pointing the gun at them. He turned sideways, unconsciously placing himself between Blair and danger. "How could you Blair, after all this man's done to you?"

"I'm sorry," Blair whispered. "My mind's telling me one thing, but my heart is telling me another. I trust my heart." His eyes pleaded with her for understanding.

This was obviously not what she wanted to hear. Enraged, her face turned to a mask of pure unadulterated hatred. "Fine," she spat venomously at Blair, "you care so much about him, perhaps I should kill you instead. Then Ellison would know the pain of having someone you love unjustly and violently ripped from your life."

"Listen lady," Jim roared. "You got a problem with me, you deal with me. Just leave Sandburg out of it."

Katherine smiled ruthlessly. "No, I don't think so. If I had any doubts before, your reaction just settled the issue."

"JIM," Blair wailed.

"It's okay buddy, I'm not going to let her hurt you any more." Eyes of steel blue flashed angrily at Raines. "You want Sandburg, you're going to have to go through me first."

"That can be arranged," Katherine replied, coldly.

"Why are you doing this?" Blair demanded.

"Why?" Katherine repeated, her eyebrows rising as if surprised by Blair's question, then comprehension clicked in. "Ah yes, I suppose you should understand exactly why it is you're going to die. It's really all Ellison's fault you know."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jim demanded.

"You killed my daughter! Katherine raged at the man she had vowed revenge upon.

"No," Blair protested. "Jim would never do anything like that."

"Oh yes he would," she laughed mirthlessly. "He shot her three times in the back."

Jim experienced a sinking feeling in his gut.

"She was all I had in this world," Katherine continued, "and you killed her!"

Blair looked up confused. "I don't understand Jim, who's she talking about?"

Jim would have given anything to shelter his friend from the name he was about to utter. "Andrea Alessi," he said, hesitantly.

"Oh God!" Blair sobbed, his legs giving way beneath him.

"Whoa! It's all right Chief, I've got you," Jim murmured, helping Blair to remain upright. He felt the slight body beneath his hands begin to shake uncontrollably. Damn it! I thought this nightmare was over for him.

Outraged at what this maniac was putting his partner through, Jim turned in anger towards Katherine. "Your daughter was responsible for the deaths of several people, including that of her own father. She nearly beat my partner to death. What did you expect me to do," he asked sarcastically, "pat her on the head and send her home to momma?"

"She was sick!" Katherine screeched. "She needed help, not to be shot down like some dog."

"Actually, I would have been more considerate of a dog," Jim dead panned.

"You bastard!" Katherine roared, pointing the gun at Ellison's head.

"No wait!" Blair pleaded, stalling for time. "This doesn't make sense. Andrea told me her mother died in childbirth."

The diversion was successful. "That's what their father led them to believe. After the twins were born, I knew I couldn't go back to that environment. I had to get away."

"So you just took off and left your kids..." Jim began.

"No, it wasn't like that!" Katherine exclaimed. "I tried to take them with me, but he caught us. He beat me so bad that I nearly died. He told me I could leave, but that if I ever tried to take the children again, he would kill me."

"You left your children in the hands of a psychopath," Blair accused, purposely drawing Katherine's ire away from Jim and towards himself. Blair snorted with false bravado. "No wonder they turned out the way they did."

"Sandburg," Jim growled a warning, knowing full well what his friend was trying to do.

But as usual, Blair didn't heed the warning. "And now you're trying to blame it all on Jim." He shook his head in censure. "They're dead because of you!"

"It's not my fault! It's Ellison's. He's the one that killed my baby." Katherine's eyes narrowed, animosity seeping from every pore. "And now he's going to experience the pain of losing someone he loves. Move away from him," she instructed Blair with a slight wave of the gun.

Jim refused to relinquish the crushing grip he had on his guide. "No, Damn it! It's me you wanted to kill. That's why this whole elaborate ruse in the first place."

"Ah, but that was before I realized just how much he means to you. No, this will be much more ... appropriate." She turned her attention to Blair. "Move away from him, now! Otherwise, I'll put a few nonlethal bullet holes in him."

Blair tried to pull away. "Come on Jim, let go."

"No way Chief." Jim was adamant. "I let you down before, it's not going to happen again."

"Come on man, this isn't your fault..."

"ENOUGH!" Katherine yelled, firing the weapon to emphasize her point. The bullet lodged itself in Ellison's thigh.

Jim grunted from the unexpected pain, inadvertently releasing his hold on Blair.

"JIM!" Blair cried out, horrified, frantically assessing his partner's injury. He turned accusing eyes towards Katherine.

She shrugged, unconcerned. "I tried to warn you. Now step away."

Reluctantly, Blair did as he was instructed. "Sandburg," Jim ground out through teeth clenched in pain.

"No," Blair replied with a shake of his head. "It's better this way. I'm really sorry Jim. I never should have doubted you."

"It wasn't your fault Chief..."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Are you through now? Because I've been waiting a long time for this." She leveled the gun at Blair's chest, savoring the moment of her revenge. "Three bullets Ellison," she told the detective. "That's only fair, don't you think? At least he'll see them coming, something my daughter wasn't granted."

As her finger began to squeeze the trigger, Blair took one final look at his best friend. There were so many things he regretted, but he never regretted the moment his life connected with this man, Jim Ellison, hard nose, anal retentive cop. Who would have figured? It was Jim who had taught him there was more to family than blood ties. It was Jim who had finally taught him the meaning of the word home. He smiled at his friend, trying to say with that one small smile all the things he felt in his heart, but that time didn't permit.

Searching his friend's face, he saw Ellison come to a decision. Blair's eyes widened in horror as he instinctively knew what that decision was. "NO!" he cried out, trying to prevent the inevitable, but it was too late. As the gun exploded, Jim launched himself at Blair. They hit the floor hard, tumbling beneath one of the dining room tables.

As Jim rolled off of him, Blair staggered drunkenly to his knees. Without even thinking, he capsized the table affording them some additional protection. Blair flinched, ducking automatically when another shot splintered the table in front of him. Frantic, he glanced around, searching for some way out of their current predicament. His eyes settled on Ellison. "Oh my God, Jim!" he cried out, scooting closer to his friend. Wiping away the sweat blurring his vision, Blair sat about assessing his friend's injuries. Besides the bullet already embedded in his leg, Jim now supported a matching wound on his upper right arm. Both were bleeding profusely and Blair felt totally helpless. "You bitch!" he yelled, venting some of the anger welling up inside of him.

Katherine made a tisking sound. "Now is that any way to talk to a woman nearly old enough to be your mother?"

"No, but it is the way I talk to homicidal loony tunes," Blair retaliated, before turning back to his unconscious partner. Quickly slipping off his belt, Blair secured it around Jim's thigh. Divesting Jim of his belt, he did likewise with the arm.

Settling back, he sobbed with relief to see the bleeding had slowed. His eyes flickered, concerned, to his friend's face. "Come on man, open your eyes and tell me you're going to be okay. Jim," he pleaded, shaking the inert body.

"Enough of this nonsense Blair," Katherine's voice rang out in the stillness of the room. "I want you to come out from behind that table right now."

Blair snorted. "Despite what you've tried to make me believe, I am notthat crazy."

"You're forgetting, I'm the one with the gun."

Gun, Blair thought. If I could just find Jim's gun. He glanced around, peering into the darkness. Yes! he mentally shouted, elated when his eyes landed on the object of his search. It lay there, just beyond the end of the table. Casting a worried glance at Jim, Blair began slithering across the floor towards the gun, stopping when dizziness, nausea and pain threatened to overwhelm him. Not now, he silently cursed the betrayal of his own body and began crawling again. Keeping the bulk of his body hidden behind the table, his hand snaked out, quickly snatching up the weapon. The gun felt cold and foreign in his hand, but never more welcome, as he scooted back to where Jim laid.

Two more shots struck the table in rapid succession. "I said get out here," Katherine ordered, her patience running out.

"You want me, you come and get me," Blair taunted, then cursed himself for being three times the fool. He heard her foot falls echoing in the vastness of the room. Raising the gun up over the table top, he fired off a shot in the direction of the sound.

Maniacal laughter filled the room. "You my dear, Blair, are a terrible shot. I, on the other hand, am not. Ellison may not be dead yet, but he will be if he doesn't get medical help quickly. Now, we can stand here all night until Ellison dies, or you can be reasonable, drop the gun and come out now."

"And just why would I do that?" Blair questioned.

"Because if you do, I promise to get him some help."

"And I'm suppose to believe you!?!" Blair was astonished by her audacity.

"Well, the whole point here," Katherine explained meticulously, as if speaking to a dimwitted child, "is that Ellison is suppose to suffer because of your death. He can't very well do that if he's dead, now can he? Besides, I really don't see you have much of a choice, it's your life for Ellison's."

She was right, he really didn't have a choice, there was no way he was going to let Jim die. "All right, I'm coming out."

"Throw the gun out first and then come out slowly," she instructed.

Blair tossed the weapon over the table and, with one last lingering look at his friend, started to rise on shaky legs. Jim's hand reached out, grabbing Blair around the wrist. "No, don't," he gasped in pain, opening his eyes.

"I don't have a choice Jim. Maybe this way at least one of us can make it out of this alive," Blair replied, his voice full of emotion. Prying Jim's fingers lose, he rose.

"Very good." Katherine nodded approvingly. "Now step out here."

Blair stumbled out from behind the table, nearly losing his balance as waves of dizziness struck yet again. Feeling the thunderous pounding of his heart, Blair ironically wondered if he was going to live long enough to be killed. "You know this won't bring Andrea back," he told her through harshly drawn inhalations as it became increasingly harder for him to breathe.

"No, it won't, but it will bring me great satisfaction to know that Ellison will suffer as I have suffered." She cocked her head slightly. "You know Blair, I'm sorry it had to turn out this way. I really do like you."

"Yeah, so did Andrea, yet you both seem intent on killing me," Blair replied scathingly.

"My daughter must be avenged."

Blair lost focus as his vision began to blur. "Just do it before I..." As Blair pitched forward into the cradle of darkness, he heard a shot ring out.

"There's his truck," Simon said, pointing out the blue and white Ford pickup as their headlights momentarily illuminated it.

"Don't see any sign of Ellison though," Joel commented, stepping on the brake.

"He must be inside," Simon replied, shuddering as a cold chill washed over him at the ominous sight of the structure known as Cliff Haven.

"You really think Sandburg's in there?" A gun shot ripped through the serenity of the night, punctuating Joel's question.

"If I had any doubts before, I don't now. Drive through the gate," Simon ordered.

Taggert floored the gas and their car surged forward, both men tensing as the rod iron gate loomed before them. Joel cringed as the force of the impact snapped the rusty lock and the chain gave way. Simon was halfway out of the car even before Joel brought it to a complete stop. "Call it in," he yelled at Joel before being swallowed up by the night.

Figuring they had already announced their presence to anyone in the building by literally gate crashing, Simon burst through the front door, weapon drawn. "Cascade P.D., the place is surrounded. Come out with your hands up," Simon shouted as Joel entered the foyer behind him.

Upon hearing Simon, Joel's eyebrows rose in question. "Surrounded?"

"Okay, so we don't have them surrounded, but Raines doesn't know that," Simon replied with a scowl.

Joel nodded in understanding. "So you're lying," he stated.

"I'm obfuscating," Simon corrected, then groaned. "God help me, I've been hanging around Sandburg too long." The mere mention of the man's name brought an end to the bantering.

"It doesn't look like she's going to come out on her own," Joel commented when several minutes passed with no sign of Raines.

"Then we'll just have to go in and get her. I just hope it isn't too late for Ellison and Sandburg." On that sobering note, Simon motioned for Joel to take the corridor straight ahead, while he started down the one to the left.

Katherine stared at Blair's body, crumpled face down on the floor, and felt a momentary pang of regret. It wasn't until the first shot went inexplicably wide that Katherine had fully realized she hadn't lied to Blair, she had indeed grown quite fond of him. Perhaps that's why she hadn't been able to bring herself to kill him. Kneeling down, she reached towards the incredibly beautiful and dynamic creature lying before her. A horrendous crash from out front stayed her hand. Not liking the implications of the noise, she went to investigate. Halfway through the kitchen, she heard Simon's shout. With a curse, she fled back into the dining room and, with a final glance at the seemingly lifeless form of Sandburg, quickly crossed the room, exiting through another door.

Simon cautiously made his way down the dark hallway, quickly checking then dismissing the first two rooms he came upon. Peering through the glass on the door labeled kitchen and seeing nothing, he slipped into the room. Stealthily, he made his way across the kitchen and over to the set of double doors. Once again he looked through the glass to survey the room's interior and felt his heart lurch at the sight of Sandburg's moonlit body lying on the floor. Glancing around to make sure the room was indeed empty, he opened the door and hurried to Blair's side.

Kneeling, he checked the carotid artery for a pulse. Thank God! Simon silently exclaimed as he felt the palpable beat. Carefully, he maneuvered the unconscious man over and onto his back. Sandburg looked like hell, but a quick perusal showed no life threatening signs of trauma. "Sandburg," Simon called, gently shaking him. Blair's eyelids twitched briefly before ceasing their motion altogether. Simon shook harder. "Come on Blair, I need you to wake up now."

His brow creasing slightly, a whisper of a groan escaped Blair's lips as he began to regain consciousness.

"That's it," Simon encouraged the young man's efforts and was rewarded when the dark lashes fluttered open. He frowned, concerned at the glazed disoriented look of Sandburg's normally vibrant blue eyes. "Sandburg?" he called again, unsure if Blair was even aware of his presence.

Blair's head tilted towards the source of the sound, but it was several moments before cognizance became evident. He blinked. "Simon?"

A smile lit the face of the normally solemn captain. "Yeah kid, it's me." Blair moved to get up but was firmly pushed back down. "Oh no you don't," Simon told him. "You just stay right there until we can get you checked out."

The fact that Sandburg didn't even try to offer a protest worried the older man. It was apparent that the kid wasn't up to it, but one of his detectives was still unaccounted for. "Blair," he began, gently. "I need to know what happened here. Where are Raines and Ellison?"

"Jim?" Blair repeated, as if mulling over an unfamiliar name. Finally, the memories resurfaced and his eyes shot wide open. "Oh my God! Jim, she shot Jim!" he cried out, struggling frantically against Simon's hold.

"Take it easy Sandburg," Simon ordered in an authoritative tone, pushing the slighter man down, yet again. "Just tell me where he's at."

"Behind the table," Blair sobbed with a nod in its direction. He clutched at the front of Simon's coat. "You've got to help him!"

"I will," Simon assured Blair, prying himself loose from the vice like grip. "But you stay put." Frustrated by his own weakness, Blair collapsed back onto the floor from his partially raised position. With an abrupt nod of approval, Simon rose and hurried over to Ellison.

Simon grimaced at the sight of the injured detective laying propped up against the back of the overturned table. Although Jim was unconscious, Simon was pleased to note that the makeshift tourniquets had slowed the bleeding.

"How is he?" came Blair's frail voice from behind as he stumbled into the captain.

"Sandburg," Simon growled as he reached out to steady the shaky young man. "I thought I told you to stay put."

"Was worried about Jim. Is he going to be okay?"

Simon looked down into the frightened face that was anxiously searching his own for the answer and recalled for the first time just how ill Blair really was. Damn it, how do I tell the kid that Ellison's got a better chance of surviving thisthan he does? "Blair, I..."

"Simon," came Taggert's shout from nearby.

"In here Joel," the captain yelled back.

Taggert entered the room, gun drawn. Spotting the others, he holstered the weapon, quickly joining them. "Oh man!" he exclaimed upon his first view of Ellison. "Backup and the paramedics are almost here," he informed Banks and indeed sirens could be heard growing closer. "No sign of Raines though," he added with disappointment.

Simon cursed the news. "When the others arrive, I want you to coordinate an extensive search of the property. Without her car she couldn't have gotten very far in the dark."

"Right," Joel acknowledged with a nod, then glanced at Blair who appeared to only be remaining upright because of the tenacious hold he had on Simon's jacket. Offering the distraught man a sympathetic smile, he said, "You look like shit kid, but I'm sure glad to see you're still in one piece."

"Thanks, Joel," Blair replied, summoning a weak smile of his own. "But it's Jim I'm worried about."

The two larger men exchanged knowing glances above Sandburg's head.

"He'll be all right Blair," Taggert assured him. "It would require a lot more than this to take Ellison out of the picture." Joel looked up as the familiar wail of sirens came to a halt out front. He glanced back down at Blair, whose eyes had drifted shut. Concerned, he cast a worried look at Simon and then back to Blair. "You just hang in there, okay?"

Opening his eyes, Blair faintly nodded.

As Taggert hurried out to direct the paramedics to their location, Blair's legs finally gave out. Carefully, Simon lowered Blair into a sitting position near Ellison, knowing the young man would want to remain nearby. Squatting down beside them, Simon found himself wondering once again how two so dynamically different individuals had become such close friends. True, Sandburg had a way of worming his way into the hearts of even the most reticent of individuals, as he, himself, could attest to, but he felt that there was, somehow, more to it than that. He only hoped that both of them survived their partnership long enough for him to figure out what it was.

Shaking himself out of his contemplations, Simon noticed that Sandburg had taken one of Ellison's hands in his own and was alternately uttering reassurances and pleading with his friend to wake up. Feeling totally helpless, Simon breathed a sigh of relief when the paramedics strode through the door. Both men were well known to Simon as they had each attended to Ellison and Sandburg on previous occasions.

Randy crouched beside Jim and began checking his vitals while his partner Jack unloaded their supplies from the stretcher. "Nice job," Randy commented upon seeing the tourniquets.

"It was all I could think of to do," Blair stated weakly, his voice tinged with apprehension.

"Well, there's no doubt in my mind that your quick thinking saved Detective Ellison's life."

Blair smiled briefly at the praise then frowned. "He's going to be okay then, right?"

Randy considered the patient before him. "Well, there's been extensive blood loss plus the trauma of being shot, but yeah, I think he's going to be fine." Blair seemed relieved, but kept a vigilant eye as Randy tended to his friend.

After a quick consultation with Simon regarding Sandburg's situation, Jack knelt down beside the ashen young man so intent on his partner's welfare. "Ellison's in good hands," he assured Blair, "so let's take a look at you."

"I'm fine," Blair groused, swatting Jack's hands away.

"That's not what I heard," the older, no nonsense, paramedic replied. "So behave yourself and quit giving me a hard time or I won't let you ride in the same ambulance as Ellison."

Simon had to stifle a grin at Blair's petulant pout, but at least the proposed threat seemed to work. Although Sandburg didn't appear none too happy about it, at least now he was allowing the examination. He did, however, bulk when Jack wanted to start an IV. "No way man. I let you do that and the next thing I know they'll be wanting to admit me to the hospital."

"You should be in the hospital," Jack pointed out.

"Sandburg, do you have any idea how sick you are?" Simon asked, exasperated.

"I don't care," Blair replied obstinately.

Simon lost his patience. It was time to tell Sandburg the truth. "Damn it! Raines has been poisoning you for months..."

"Yeah, yeah," Blair interrupted, waving it off as if it was of no importance. "I know, Jim told me."

"Then you know how important it is that you get medical attention as soon as possible."

"Right now my only concern is Jim. He needs me Simon." Blair's expression silently pleaded with the captain to understand.

Simon read that expression as easily as one might read a book. Every emotion plainly written. The fear. The guilt. "Jim's going to be fine," he said with conviction.

"I'll believe that after Jim has made it through surgery and after he wakes up. Until then, the only place I'm going to be is as close to him as possible." Blair slumped back, exhausted after his tirade.

"Sandburg, I swear..." Simon paused, crossing his arms across his chest. "Just how are you planning on getting to the hospital with Jim if they won't let you ride in the ambulance? And feel free to correct me if I'm wrong," Simon continued, "but the last time I checked, you couldn't even stand up on your own."

Blair looked up at the man towering over him, noting the smug expression Simon now wore, thinking he'd made his point. Blair's face hardened with determination. "I'll crawl there if I have to."

The smug expression changed to one of utter frustration as Simon turned to enlist Jack's help. "Can't you do something with him?"

None to happy with the situation either, Jack shook his head. "If he refuses medical treatment, my hands are tied. Although you are required to sign this release waiver to that effect," he added, handing Sandburg a clipboard and pen.

Blair squinted as the blurred type on the release form refused to come into focus. "I don't have my glasses," he hedged. "Where am I suppose to sign?"

Jack pointed out the appropriate line, shaking his head in dismay when Blair proceeded to scrawl his name in the wrong spot anyway. Finished, Blair handed back the clipboard, totally unaware of the fine tremors causing his hand to shake.

"I've got him stabilized," Randy informed his partner as he finished working on Ellison. With practiced ease, they carefully lifted Jim onto the stretcher and secured the restraining straps. Gathering up the last of their gear, they began wheeling him out of the room.

Determined not to be left behind, Blair pulled his legs underneath him and, using the table, purposefully pushed himself to his feet. He swayed, eyes closed, as a surge of lightheadedness overwhelmed him.

Simon let out a weary sigh at the pathetic picture Sandburg presented. Muttering something about 'Damn fool anthropologist', he slipped off his jacket, draping it over the young man's shoulders to protect him from the chill of the night air. Blair smiled weakly at the gesture. "Come on, let's get you out of here," Simon said, hiding his true feelings behind a gruff exterior. Placing a supporting arm around Sandburg's shoulders, Simon led him from the room.

Simon and Blair exited Cliff Haven just as Jim was being loaded into the ambulance. As Simon helped him down the front steps, Blair looked longingly at the vehicle that would momentarily be whisking his friend away.

Jack looked up from stowing the gear, smiling slightly at the renowned Sandburg puppy dog look. Truth to be known, he never did have any intention of leaving the kid behind. At least if Sandburg was in the ambulance with them, he'd be able to keep an eye on him. Jack motioned Simon over and, taking Blair's arm, helped him into the ambulance.

"I'll meet you at the hospital," Simon called, just before the vehicle's rear doors were closed, and turned to find Taggert as the ambulance, siren blaring, pulled away.

Having been advised ahead of time by radio on Ellison's condition, the emergency personnel of Cascade General were waiting as the ambulance pulled up. Quickly and efficiently the stretcher was unloaded and the patient wheeled through the sliding glass doors and into trauma room one.

With the assistance of an orderly, Blair was helped from the ambulance and accompanied the stretcher baring his friend until being stopped by a nurse at the trauma room door. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait out here. Someone will be out to talk with you as soon as possible," she told him before disappearing into the room he had just been forbidden to enter.

The orderly gave Blair a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, your friend is in good hands. Now let's get you taken care of," he said, physically turning Blair aside and leading him towards another treatment room.

"No! I'm fine," Blair protested as soon as he realized what was happening.

John frowned. Even someone without medical training could see that the man before him was unquestionably ill. Not to mention the fact that he had been recently injured if the multiple cuts, lumps, bruises and abrasions were anything to go by. He could understand the man's need to remain near his wounded friend, but it was obvious that he, too, needed medical attention.

John momentarily considered using the six inch, fifty pound advantage he had over the smaller man and forcing him into the examination room, but by then Blair had dug his heels in and was refusing to budge. Not wanting to risk, further injury to him, John instead lead the quiet young man over to a seat in the waiting room and went in search of a doctor.

As Jack and Randy exited the trauma room, Jack overheard John explaining the situation to the admittance clerk and his request that a doctor be paged. Jack motioned for Randy to go on ahead and joined John at the nurses' station. "Excuse me," he interrupted. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking about Blair Sandburg. He's a consultant with the Cascade, P.D. and, according to his captain, Dr. Fortunato requested that he be notified the minute Mr. Sandburg was brought in."

As the clerk placed the call, the two men turned to look at the object of their discussion. He had not moved a muscle since being placed there, but merely sat looking at the doors through which his friend had disappeared. Jack really hated the idea of leaving him alone until his captain arrived, but needed to get back to work. Seeing Jack's reluctance, John assured him that he would keep a close eye on the foolhardy young man. Smiling his thanks, Jack hurried to catch up with his partner while John moved to sit beside Blair, fully intent on keeping that promise.

Thirty minutes later, Simon pulled Jim's pickup into the hospital parking lot. He had left Taggert in charge of overseeing the operation at Cliff Haven but his gut instinct told him that somehow Raines had eluded them and was now long gone. Parking the vehicle, he hopped out, locked the truck and hurried into the hospital.

Consternation was plainly written on his face as he spotted Sandburg slumped in a chair in the waiting room, clutching Simon's jacket around him as if seeking its warmth would somehow dispel the severe shivers wracking his body. Blair appeared totally oblivious to his surroundings, his entire focus intent on the doors labeled trauma room one. Sitting beside Sandburg, talking quietly to him, was an orderly. Grateful to the man for keeping an eye on Blair until he could get there, Simon introduced himself to the man and expressed his appreciation. John quickly brought the captain up to date in what he knew and, with one last look of concern, returned to his duties.

As Simon sat down in the chair just vacated by John, he looked over at the obstinate man sitting beside him. He knew it was probably pointless to even try, but his conscience couldn't prevent him from trying anyway. "Blair, I really think you should let them admit you."

"It's all my fault, you know." Blair spoke softly, his tone self-incriminating. Simon, knowing that the young man needed to expunge his feelings of guilt, sat quietly waiting for Blair to continue. It didn't take long. "I should have had more faith in our friendship. Instead, I let Katherine manipulate me into believing that Jim was some kind of monster. How could I have been so stupid!?!

"Come on Blair," Simon tried placating him. "It wasn't your fault she..."

"He took a bullet meant for me Simon!" Blair stormed, then snorted with dry amusement. "You know, the original plan was for me to kill Jim, but when Katherine discovered how much Jim cares..." Blair's voice choked with emotion. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he continued, "She decided that he would suffer more if he had to watch me die. Of course, Jim wasn't having any of that, no sir. He planted himself in front of me and practically begged her to kill him instead." He looked up at the captain, eyes searching for answers. "My God Simon, how do I live with the knowledge that Jim might die because he was willing to give his life for mine?"

Simon could feel the guilt and self loathing emanating from Sandburg. It radiated over him in undulating waves, shocking him with its depth and intensity. "He's a cop Blair, it's his job."

"No," Blair replied with a vigorous shake of his head. "Not like this. Not for me. Never for me." His voice trailed off.

Simon's brow furrowed in confusion. How could Sandburg have lived and worked with Ellison for so long and not understand the kind of man he was? And why did the kid appear to feel his life wasn't as important as that of Ellison? Simon suspected that buried somewhere deep inside, Blair had more than a few demons that needed to be dealt with. He looked over at Blair, his eyebrow raising in concern at the sight of his pallid, sweaty complexion, and silently prayed that Sandburg lived long enough to face them.

Forty five minutes later, the doors to the emergency room slid open to admit Dr. Fortunato. Aware of how deathly ill Mr. Sandburg was, Victor couldn't believe it when the admissions clerk informed him over the phone that the man was refusing to be admitted. Spotting the young man in question sitting in the waiting room, his eyes narrowed with determination.

Simon looked up, spotted the resolve clearly written on Fortunato's face and, with a quick "I'll be right back" to Sandburg, went to meet the doctor.

"Captain Banks," Fortunato greeted Simon with abrupt formality. "What in God's name is that man doing just sitting there? Didn't you explain to him the seriousness of his condition?"

Frustrated by his own repeated failures, Simon's patience ran out. "Of course I did. I've explained it to him until I'm blue in the face, but he's not going to budge until he's one hundred percent positive that Jim's going to be okay."

"Detective Ellison?" Victor frowned in confusion. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Jim was shot twice tonight. They're in there," Simon nodded towards the examination room, "working on him now."

Fortunato let out a weary sigh. The friendship that existed between Detective Ellison and his partner was well known throughout the hospital. More than once, the rules had been bent to allow one or the other to remain past visiting hours to be with his friend. But this! This was sheer insanity. Sandburg was risking his life here. Well enough of this foolishness! That stubborn jackass is going to be admitted one way or another. "I'm sorry to hear that Captain, but right now my primary concern is Mr. Sandburg. Now, if you will excuse me," he said pointedly since Simon was still blocking his way.

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Simon would have smiled. It was obvious that the doctor hadn't yet had the pleasure of experiencing Sandburg when the kid had his mind set on something. Well, he was just about to find out how pigheaded Sandburg could be. Simon stepped aside allowing the doctor to pass, then stood back to watch, silently hoping that he would be successful, but instinctively knowing that the doctor wouldn't have any better luck than he had.

Victor stood looking down at the bowed head of the pathetic sight sitting before him. A quick visual examination told him that the circumstances were as grim as he had fear. He cleared his throat, successfully gaining Sandburg's attention.

Blair looked up at the sound, wincing as the bright overhead lights sent a stabbing pain through his head. Blinking, he tried in vain to clear away the haze obscuring his vision. His mind vaguely registered the presence of a white coat and equated that image with the word doctor. "How's Jim?" he questioned, his voice having taken on a raspy, breathless quality.

Damn this kid has a one track mind, Fortunato thought. "I'm sorry Mr. Sandburg, but I'm not here about your friend. I'm here to try and ..."

"Could you find out how he is?" Blair asked, interrupting the doctor mid sentence. "Someone was suppose to come and tell us as soon as they knew anything, but they've been in there forever and I..."

"Mr. Sandburg," Fortunato spoke sharply, putting an abrupt halt to Blair's endless sentence. Instantly regretting the harshness of his tone, Victor continued in a softer voice. "I'm sure your friend will be fine and if you promise to at least listen to what I have to say, I'll go and check on him as soon as we're through here. Do we have a deal?"

He saw the young man visibly warring with himself. On the one hand, he clearly wanted word on his friend's condition, but it was evident that he didn't want to listen when it concerned his own well being. Concern for his friend finally won out and he saw the curly head nod slightly. Victor let out a sigh of relief. At least now he was willing to listen. "Good," he replied, taking the seat next to Blair. "As you know, over the last few months a rare, hallucinogenic toxin has been introduced to your system. Your last blood tests indicate that the toxin level is nearing critical proportions and if not treated immediately, you could die." He looked closely at the young man, expecting some kind of reaction, and was shocked when he saw a face totally devoid of emotion. Victor went on to elaborate. "You'll experience dizziness, nausea, a noticeable weakness of your extremities. Eventually, one by one, your internal systems will begin to shut down. Your breathing will become more labored. Your heart will begin to feel the strain..." He broke off, realizing that he might as well be speaking to a brick wall.

"Will you find out about Jim now?" Blair implored.

With a resigned sigh, Victor gave Blair a reassuring pat on the leg and rose. "I'll go and see what I can find out." Glancing over at the captain, he was the recipient of one of Simon's 'See, what did I tell you' looks. Frowning, he went to check on Detective Ellison.

Resigned to resuming his watchful vigil with Sandburg, Simon started back towards the grad student, pulling up short when he saw Taggert enter the emergency room.

"How's Jim?" the stocky captain asked upon joining him.

"We're still waiting for news," came the worried reply.

Joel glanced over to where Sandburg was sitting. "I see Blair's being his usual obstinate self where Ellison's concerned."

Simon grimaced. "Yeah, I've tried talking to him. The doctor's tried... I swear, I don't know which of them is worse when it comes to being stubborn. I think they do it on purpose, you know, just to drive me crazy."

Taggert couldn't hide his smile at Simon's incongruous venting. Both men knew it wasn't true and, in fact, they were more than a little envious of the unique friendship that Sandburg and Ellison shared.

"What's the word on Raines?" Simon asked, suspending the older man's musings.

"Nothing. We've been all over the house and grounds. She's gone."

"Damn! I'd feel a lot better about this if we had her in custody."

"I've got an APB out on her and we've got men covering the airport, train and bus stations," Joel informed him.

Simon nodded his approval. "I also want a couple of men stationed on Ellison and Sandburg. Until Raines is caught, there's no telling what she might do."

"I'm on it."

Leaving Taggert to place the call, Simon resumed his seat next to Sandburg.

"They didn't find her, did they?" Blair's voice was flat, dull, resigned.

Simon rubbed at the throbbing pain in his temple. Dear Lord, just how much more was Sandburg expected to handle. "Don't worry, we'll find her."

Blair's eyelids closed, the effort of holding them open suddenly too much. "Promise me..." his voice faltered. Swallowing, he tried again. "Promise me you'll protect Jim."

"It's already in the works," Simon assured him. "But what about you? I thought you said that Raines decided to kill you instead."

"She did, but..."

"But what?"

Blair opened his eyes. Turning to look at Simon, he frowned in confusion. "I thought I was dead, man," Blair began quietly. "I mean, I was standing there and she was pointing the gun at me and..." his voice trailed off as he became lost in the memory.

"And then what?" Simon prompted.

"I'm not sure." Blair spoke haltingly, as bit by bit he dredged up the memory. "I remember feeling like I was going to pass out and then I heard the gun go off...The next thing I knew you were there." Two pools of blue bewilderment looked questioningly up at Simon. "How come I'm not dead?"

Perplexed, Simon could only speculate. "Maybe she missed," he suggested.

"Maybe," Blair whispered, but somewhere, buried deep in the recesses of his mind, an elusive memory flirted with him, dancing just out of reach.

Spotting Dr. Fortunato upon his return, Simon rose to meet him. "How's Jim?" he asked as Taggert, having finished his call, came over to join them. Blair looked up from his seated position. His expression a mixture of fear and hope as he waited for the doctor's response.

Victor smiled at the assembled men. "They're just finishing up in surgery now. He's going to be fine." There was a collective sigh of profound relief.

Blair closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer of thanks to whomever might be listening.

"Mr. Sandburg," Fortunato addressed Blair, "now that you know Detective Ellison is going to be all right perhaps you'll finally allow us to admit you to the....."

"When can I see him?" Blair asked, halting the doctor's flow of words.

With a sigh, Victor checked his watch. "He should be out of recovery in about another hour. After which they'll be moving him into a private room. But really Mr. Sandburg, I must insist that you..." Fortunato began to protest the possibility of yet an additional delay in getting the young man treatment.

"I want to see him," Blair rebelliously insisted.

Simon's patience snapped. "Damn it Sandburg, what do those initials of yours stand for, born stubborn? How do you think Jim's going to feel if he wakes up only to find out you're dead?"

"Not going to happen," Blair replied confidently.

"It will if you keep up this nonsense," Simon bellowed at the anthropologist. Joel winced in sympathy. Simon was furious, but Blair wasn't about to back down.

Blair's eyes flashed with defiance. "I am not going anywhere until I've seen Jim. I need to tell him..." The tirade had triggered an abrupt bout of coughing, choking off the last of his words and, within minutes, Blair was having trouble drawing enough oxygen into his already stressed lungs.

"We need oxygen over here," the doctor yelled, immediately aware of Blair's difficulties. He knelt in front of the man, who's startling blue eyes were now wide with panic. "Just try and take it easy," he instructed Blair as a nurse handed him an oxygen tank. Adjusting the controls, he fitted the mask over Blair's nose and mouth. "Just try and breathe slowly." Slowly, as the minutes ticked by, Blair's breathing appeared to even out. Finally able to breathe again, the tension in his muscles relaxed. Fortunato nodded approvingly. "That's it, you're doing great."

Simon changed his mind. Ellison and Sandburg weren't trying to drive him crazy. They were trying to kill him, with worry. He placed a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder, drawing the young man's attention. "It's only going to get worse Blair. Please, let them help you."

With a slight negative shake of his head, Blair removed the oxygen mask. "Not until...I talk to...Jim," he gasped.

The three older men exchanged exasperated glances then moved out of Blair's hearing range to confer. "What are we going to do?" Joel asked, his brown eyes filled with concern.

Simon glanced back over at the silent, huddled form of Sandburg and replied solemnly, "Pray that Jim wakes up, and soon. I just hope whatever he has to say to Ellison is worth dying for."

Jim? Come on man, wake up. Please. I don't know how much longer I can hang on and I really need to know you're going to be okay before I...They keep telling me that you're going to be all right, but I guess I just need to hear it from you before I'll believe it.

I'm so sorry Jim. I know you'd never do anything to hurt me. I mean, my God, you were willing to trade your life for mine, and yet, I bought into Katherine's scheme hook, line and sinker. I know you told me it wasn't my fault, but lets face it man, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here in the first place. How could I have been so stupid!

Simon and the others think I'm crazy. Hell, maybe I am. There has to be some logical explanation for betraying the best friend I've ever had and nearly getting him killed....right? They keep telling me that if I don't get medical help soon, I'll probably die. But I can't leave you. Not like this! What if something goes wrong with your senses? I mean, we know you've had adverse reactions to medications before. No, I have to make sure you're going to be okay. I let you down big time. It's not going to happen again. Besides, what they don't seem to understand is that if...if something were to go wrong and you don't...survive this, it really doesn't matter whether or not I getmedical treatment anymore....

Please Jim, you're scaring me. You've got to wake up, you've just got to. I have to tell you how sorry I am and I need to know if you can find it in your heart to forgive me for betraying your trust. I want a chance to make it up to you. Please Jim, give me that chance. I'll do anything, but first you have to wake up. Come on big guy. I know I don't have the right to ask, but please...?

Simon observed the two men through the glass observation window of Ellison's room. For the last three hours, he and Taggert had watched as Blair sat beside Jim's bed studiously examining his friend for any sign of returning consciousness. For a while Blair had talked to the unconscious man, his softly spoken entreaties becoming more urgent as the minutes ticked by with no response from the sentinel, but after two additional bouts of coughing nearly incapacitated him, the pleas had fallen silent. Instead, he kept in contact with his partner through the only resource he had left available to him, the sensation of touch. With one hand draped carefully over that of his partner to maintain the contact, Blair closed his eyes and waited.

Simon had felt his heart stop when Blair did that, certain that the young fool had finally lost his battle of wills and succumbed to the toxins ravaging his body. When he discovered that Sandburg was merely reserving his energies for the time until he could talk to Jim, Simon wasn't sure whether to thank God or kick Blair down seven flights of stairs for scaring the shit out of him like that. Luckily for Sandburg's sake, sanity won out in the end. Well, one of us needs to maintain a hold on their sanity, Simon mentally justified his actions. It's obvious Sandburg's done lost his. He felt another presence standing beside him and turned to see Dr. Fortunato.

"Still no change?" he asked, observing the heart wrenching scene being played out before him.

"Not yet," Simon shook his head in dismay. "But he's got to wake up soon right?"

Victor sighed. "I hope so. That last series of blood tests Mr. Sandburg allowed us to take shows an increased toxicity level. At the rate it's progressing, he's got maybe another four hours before his systems begin to shut down to the point of irreparable damage."

"Dear Lord," Joel quietly exclaimed.

"Much longer and the good Lord may be the only thing that saves Mr. Sandburg's life," Fortunato replied ominously.

Simon's thoughtful gaze shifted back to the two men beyond the glass. An original odd couple. Mutt and Jeff. The anal retentive cop and neo-hippie witch doctor freak. Partners, friends, a sentinel and his guide. No two men could be any more different and yet, with them, it worked. In fact, for the most part, both of them appeared to have benefited from their unusual alliance. It was only at times like this when Simon had to question the depth and ambiguity of their relationship. Unlike the doctor, however, Simon knew the only possible thing that could save Sandburg now was one currently unconscious man called a Sentinel. Come on Jim, it's time to wake up, Simon sent out the silent petition. The kid needs you.

Blair had been waiting for it for so long that at first he thought he'd just imagined the slight tremor beneath his hand, but when it came a second time, he knew all that he had been praying for had finally come true. Jim was waking up.

Simon started as Blair's head suddenly shot up and an enormous smile illuminated his face. The change in the kid's countenance was amazing. Simon found himself wondering if it was all a show put on for Jim's behalf or some mystical benefit to be attributed to the bond between the sentinel and his guide. Whatever it was, for the first time in hours, Simon found himself beginning to hope.

"What is it?" Victor asked upon seeing Simon's sudden movement.

"Jim's waking up." He couldn't restrain his own smile, a pale imitation of the radiant one enhancing the features ofone suddenly ecstatic Blair Sandburg.

Fortunato started for the room, only to be brought up short as Simon and Joel blocked his way. He looked at them questioningly.

Joel explained, "Blair has risked his life for this moment and nothing and no one is going to interfere."

Wisely, Victor backed off, deciding instead to check on the arrangements he had made regarding Blair's treatment, once the young man consented to being admitted.

"Jim," Blair's rich tenor beseeched, enticing the older man back towards consciousness.

"Hum..." the man on the bed mumbled.

"Come on Jim, I need you to wake up."

"Chief?" came the groggy reply as Jim's eyelids opened to reveal two befuddled spheres of blue.

"Yeah big guy, it's me." Blair's relieved sigh was clearly audible.

Jim's mouth felt incredibly dry. "Thirsty," he croaked.

Blair poured some water from the pitcher sitting on the nightstand and held the cup while Jim sipped the cool, refreshing liquid through a straw. Finally he nodded, indicating that he was done.

"Better?" Blair asked, returning the glass to the nightstand.

"Much better," Jim agreed and indeed his voice was stronger.

"How are you feeling? Any problem with your senses? Do you need anything? You scared the hell out of me you know. What were you thinking diving in front of a bullet like that? Are you insane?" The fears, pent up for hours, came cascading out.

"Whoa Chief, just slow down a bit. I'm still not all here yet."

Blair was immediately contrite. "Oh man, I'm so sorry."

"S'okay." The blue eyes blinked, trying harder to focus on the anxious young man sitting beside his bed. "How about you? Are you all right?"

Blair patently ignored the question. "No, what I mean is I'm sorry I let you down. I'll understand if you want to find another guide. I mean, you have to have someone you can trust, right? I'll even move out of the loft, if that's what you want." Blair looked away, unwilling to see the condemnation he knew would be clearly defined on the face of his sentinel.

Another guide? Move out of the loft? What the hell is the kid talking about? It took several seconds for Jim's brain to catch up with Blair's rapid fire monologue. One by one, memories of the events of the last few days fell into place. "Sandburg, look at me," Jim commanded.

Blair swallowed past the lump in his throat and, steeling himself for rejection, turned soulful blue eyes towards his friend.

"It's not your fault Chief."

"It's not?" Blair shook his head in denial. "No, I should have known better Jim. I mean, my God, you're my best friend and I actually believed that you could do something like that."

"Raines had been drugging you for months. You weren't responsible for your actions..."

"I almost killed you!"

"But you didn't. Why do you think Raines got so mad? Because despite the drugs and her manipulations, when it finally came down to it, our friendship and your belief in me was able to overcome it all. You came through Blair."

"Almost too late," Blair whispered, still haunted by the memory.

"Just in time," corrected the sentinel. "Just like you always do."

Jim's warm smile turned into a yawn. "So, are we okay here Chief? 'Cause I really could use some more sleep if we are." Jim's eyes were already drifting shut.

"What?" Jim's question roused him from the dark thoughts plaguing his conscience. "Oh, yeah, I'm sorry man. You just get some rest." Blair rose, preparing to leave. "Jim?"

"Hum?" came the sleepy reply.

"You're really going to be okay, right?"

"I'm...going to be...fine , just f..i...n....."

Blair smiled sadly as Jim dropped off to sleep mid sentence. His friend was going to be all right, he knew that now. Life was perfect, wasn't it? So why, then, did his heart feel heavy in his chest? Blair gave a mental snort, knowing full well what the answer was. Because despite Jim's assurances, Blair still felt guilty. Guilty for getting Jim shot. Guilty for not showing the same trust and commitment that Jim had displayed when he willingly thrust himself in front of a bullet meant for him. Jim deserved so much more than someone who couldn't be counted on to be there for him. To have explicit faith in him and their friendship despite interference from outside influences. In short, he deserved someone better than Blair Sandburg.

He looked down at the sleeping form of the man that had become more than a friend and partner, at a man he respected and admired above all others, and was awed by the knowledge that this incredible man hadn't thought, hadn't hesitated, but was willing to trade his life for an unworthy, insignificant being in the scheme of life, known as Blair Sandburg. Standing there, looking down on the bulk of his friend, Blair silently vowed never to let it happen again. To become the kind of man that Jim could trust, respect and count on to be there for him, no matter what the circumstances. "I won't let you down again," Blair promised to the sleeping form. "I swear."

"Sandburg?" Simon's soft call brought him back from the mires of introspection.

Blair looked up, his previous animation now totally gone, depleted with the last of his reserves. Simon was bewildered by the despair he saw depicted in the worn, battered features of the young man standing before him.

"You did what you had to do Blair, now let the doctors do their job."

Blair hesitated and, turning to look at his friend once more, silently reiterated his promise. "I'm ready now," he said. Turning back to Simon, he offered the taller man a smile of gratitude. He knew the whole incident had taken its toll on the captain. "Thank you," he whispered as his body finally gave out and he pitched forward, unconscious into Simon's waiting arms.

Simon muttered a curse and, scooping up the limp form, carried Blair from Jim's room and into the hall. "We need help here," he bellowed, then turned concerned eyes on the body cradled against his chest.

Victor Fortunato had been prepared for just such an emergency. Miraculously, a gurney appeared out of nowhere. Simon was reluctant to let go, but realized that Blair needed more now than he could offer. Gently, he laid him down on the stretcher.

"You die on me now Sandburg and I'm going to kill you. That is if Jim doesn't beat me to it first for this little stunt you've pulled," Simon growled as Blair was whisked from view.

Joel placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's gonna be fine Simon."

His glance never faltering from the direction Blair disappeared, Simon thought about Joel's words and remembered the sheer determination the kid had displayed. "You're right," he told Taggert. "When Sandburg makes up his mind, nothing can stop him."

"Not even a pissed off Jim Ellison?" Joel questioned with a grin.

"Especially when it comes to Ellison," Simon replied with conviction. "But come on, let's go make sure. Jim would never forgive me if I didn't keep an eye out for the kid."

"Ah huh," Joel answered with a smile as he watched Simon start off down the corridor. He knew it wasn't Ellison who wouldn't be able to forgive Simon, it was himself.

"You coming Taggert?" Simon groused when he realized Joel wasn't following.

As if I'd be anywhere else, Joel silently chuckled, hurrying to catch up with his friend.

Five Days Later........

The doctors, having finally thrown up their hands in surrender at attempting to keep Ellison in bed and not haunting the halls outside of his partner's room, had arranged for the two men to be moved into a double room as soon as Blair was deemed well enough to be released from ICU.

James Ellison looked over in a mixture of confusion and anger at his friend sleeping in the next bed. "I don't get it Simon," Ellison glowered. "Why would Sandburg do something so stupid? He almost died!"

"Shush!" Simon admonished. "You'll wake him."

Jim had the grace to looked abashed. "I just don't get it."

"Why did you take a bullet meant for Blair?" Simon countered.

"Why?" Jim looked surprised by the question. "I couldn't just stand by and let her kill Sandburg, he's..."

"What?" Simon prompted.

"He's my friend," Jim admitted. "He's...important to me."

"And it was important to Blair to be there when you woke up."

"Enough to risk his life over?" Jim was incredulous.

Simon shrugged. "He seemed to think so. What is it Jim?" he asked, seeing Ellison's frown.

"I remember Blair being there and I know we talked, but I can't..." he shook his head in frustration. "My God Simon, he almost died and I can't even remember what we talked about!"

"Jim, stop beating yourself up about this. You were still pretty heavily sedated..."

"No, it was important to him and I let him down."

Simon chuckled.

Jim looked insulted. "What?"

"You two, you really deserve each other, you know that. Jim," Simon sighed, then patiently explained, "each of you thinks you let the other one down, but both of you were there for each other when it really counted. You can't expect anymore of yourself than that."

Jim looked over once again at the angelic face of his guide. "Maybe not....." His voice trailed off in thought. But I'm sure as hell going to try...

Fourteen Days Later....

The gray headed nurse slid the black horn rimmed glasses back into place and handed Dr. Fortunato the clip board. "I understand Mr. Sandburg is being released today."

"Yes," Victor replied, signing the appropriate form and handing it back to her. "He'll still have to take it easy for a while and his immune system isn't quite up to par yet, but I'm expecting a full recovery."

Nurse Compton smiled. "I'm sure his partner will be glad to have him home."

Victor chuckled. "Better him than me. Even sick that kid's got more energy then any ten people I know."

"A real handful huh?"

"You don't know the half of it." He turned at the sound of Blair's voice as Jim, limping slightly and using only his one good arm, wheeled him into the hallway.

"Man, this is like so unnecessary. I'm perfectly capable of walking," Blair complained about the necessity of the wheelchair.

"Shut up, Junior," Jim replied playfully, gently swatting him on the head. "Or they may just decide to keep you longer."

Victor laughed at the look of aghast on Blair's face as he approached the two men. "Not in this lifetime, Detective. I have enough gray hairs as it is." He turned to Blair, extending his hand. "Please don't take this the wrong way Mr. Sandburg, but I hope I don't see you again anytime soon."

Blair took the proffered hand, shaking it. "Don't worry about it doc, I've had quite enough of hospitals for awhile, thank you very much." The smile faltered. "Thanks for everything. I really mean that."

With a nod of acknowledgement and goodbye, Victor left the partners alone.

"Well Chief, you ready to go home?"

"Ready? Man, I was born ready," Blair laughingly replied as Jim wheeled him down the corridor. "Did I ever tell you about the time..."

Nurse Compton's eyes followed the two men as they entered the elevator. Time, she mused as the doors closed. "Eventually time runs out Blair and when it does, I'll be waiting." And with that last cryptic message, Katherine Raines entered the nearby stairwell.