DISCLAIMER: The characters of The Sentinel do not belong to me. I have fun with them though. They belong to Pet Fly and Sci-Fi and who ever else.

Acknowledgments: Thanks Wolfie. And to my baby girl, whose "You can do it, Momma" has helped through many a day.

Spoilers: Love and Guns & Second Chance

Warning: This story comes in two parts.

Blair watched as Adam Mackenzie climbed up into the ambulance. He sat on the bench across from Blair, shaking his head when he noticed the blood trickling down the left side of Blair's face.

"Blair, Blair, Blair," he clucked. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Oh come on, Mac. It's not that bad," Blair said as the paramedic lifted his head to get a better look at the cut above his left eye.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing that head of yours is so hard," Mac took a penlight out of his shirt pocket and shined the tiny beam into Blair's eyes, grunting in approval when he noticed the pupils were equal and reactive to the light.

"You have such a wonderful bedside manner," Blair said with a smirk. "You should be Medic of the Year."

"Yeah, I should. I get enough practice with you and your partner."

"We're not that bad," Blair denied. "OW! That hurt, Mac."

"Quit being such a baby, Blair," Mackenzie said as he cleaned out the cut with an antiseptic swab. "I have to get it clean." He finished cleaning the blood from Blair's face and then proceeded to place a butterfly bandage across the cut. "There now, that should do it."

"Thanks, man," Blair started to rise from the stretcher.

"Hold on, I'm not through," Mac laid a halting hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Oh come on, Mac," Blair protested. "I want to talk to Maya before they take her away!"

"Maya?" the paramedic questioned. "Your vision okay?"

"Maya. Pretty girl in need of rescuing. And yes, my vision's fine."

"Oh yes, rescuing," Mac nodded. "Follow my fingers."

"Will you cut it out?" Blair slapped at the older man's hand. "You're as bad as Jim."

"Your head hurt?" Mac continued as if Blair had not spoken.

"Well, yeah it hurts. I stopped a gun with it," Blair snorted. "Will you cut it out and let me up?"

"Blair, will you let me finish checking you out?" Mac asked as he felt around the lump that sat on Blair's forehead. "You should know the routine by now. You were unconscious for a few minutes......"

"I know, I know. Possible concussion time," Blair cut in.

Mac just shook his head, continuing to monitor the younger man for several more minutes.

"You really should get checked out by a doctor," Mac advised.

"Oh come on!" Blair protested. "It's just a bump on the head."

"Blair…"

"Are you through yet?" Blair attempted to rise again.

"I guess I am," the paramedic sat back. "Same instructions as the last time someone tried to cave in your skull."

"You are like so funny, man," Blair scooted to the end of the ambulance and eased to the ground, holding onto the door as he did so.

"Dizzy?"

"NO!" Blair quickly denied, glancing back at his friend. "Just a little sore. Got punched in the stomach too."

Mac just shook his head before starting to clean and organize his supplies.

Detective Jim Ellison sent a concerned glance toward his unusually quiet partner. Blair had remained silent since they had left the marina, his gaze taking in the passing scenery.

A quiet Blair always made Jim nervous. He was used to being surrounded by his Guide's words, letting the soothing tones and soft cadence ground him in ways he could not explain.

"Hey," Jim reached out to tap the younger man's arm. "You doing okay?"

"What?" dark blue eyes turned his way.

"I asked if you're okay," Jim repeated. "You're being awfully quiet there."

"Oh, sorry man. Just thinking."

"About Maya Carasco?" Jim asked, braking for a red light.

"Yeah, I guess. You really think they're going to deport her and bar her from coming back?" Blair turned slightly so he was facing his partner.

"Yeah, I think so."

Blair sighed, bringing up one hand to rub at his left temple. "Man."

"You okay, Sandburg?" Jim frowned at the look of pain that crossed the young man's face.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just a little bit of a headache," Blair assured. "Jim?"

"Hmm?" Jim eased up off the brake when the light turned green.

"I know Maya used me, but do you think it was..." Blair paused for a moment. "Like revenge...you know....getting back at me for lying to her before?"

"I don't know, Chief. Maybe." Jim said. "But I also believe that she truly wanted to do some kind of good with her father's money."

"Yeah, me too. Deportation seems kind of harsh."

"Maybe so, Chief. But two policemen were killed and whether or not she was aware of it, their still dead," Jim said as he turned off on Prospect Street.

"Í know....I just wished......" Blair sighed and turned his gaze back to the passing scenery. "I'm glad Alcante got away though."

"Me too," Jim said with a chuckle. "He was one smooth operator."

"It was worth it just to see the look on Simon's face."

Jim pulled into his usual parking spot in front of the loft and turned off the ignition. Turning toward Blair, he ran a discerning eye over the slight figure. Blair was still wearing the police jacket that Jim had given him at the scene and had it wrapped securely around his frame. Wet strains of dark mahogany curls framed pale features and dark circles camped under pain-filled blue eyes.

"We're home, Chief," Jim said when Blair just sat there.

"Oh, yeah, okay," Blair shook himself before reaching for the door handle.

Jim laid a restraining hand on his friend's arm. "You sure you're okay?"

"Oh, come on, man. Don't…" Blain's words were cut off as Jim grabbed his chin and turned his face back toward him.

The older man carefully examined his partner's face, noting that the swelling around the cut that marred his left temple was minimal and both pupils were equal. "Vision okay?"

"Yes, my vision is fine. I am not dizzy. I'm not nauseated. I do, however, have a killer headache. And it is not helping any sitting out here in the cold," Blair's tone was fill with sarcasm.

"Smart ass," was Jim's reply, but he did unhand the younger man.

Blair sent him a saucy grin before climbing out of the Expedition. "Can't help it, I have a high IQ."

"One of these day, Sandburg, that head of your is gonna get hit one too many times and then your 'IQ' is gonna come loose," Jim snorted as he exited the truck.

"Not gonna happen," Blair voiced with a negative shake of his head.

"Why do you think that?" Jim came to stand by the young man.

"Cause my Blessed Protector will be right there to glue it back together, right Jim?" Blair gazed up at his partner's face.

Jim was taken aback at the look of trust that covered Blair's face. He could not get over the amount of faith that the Guide had in his Sentinel. Although Jim had feelings of inadequacy, the devotion that Blair Sandburg showed toward him also filled his soul with warmth.

"Right, kid," Jim threw an arm around his friend's shoulders as they walked toward the building.

"Sandburg!" Jim's bellow had Blair sitting straight up in the bed. "Get your lazy butt up!"

"I'm up. I'm up," Blair declared, rubbing sleep from sleep-swollen eyes.

"Yeah, well, this is the third time I called you," Jim said from the doorway. "You're the one who said you needed to get to an early class."

"Right, right, right," Blair nodded; swinging his legs off the bed and pushed up.

"You should get more rest, Chief," Jim had a smile on his face.

Blair glared at the older man with a look of disbelief. "You're the one who kept waking me up, man."

"Just wanted to make sure that brain of yours was still ticking," Jim said before handing Blair a cup of hot coffee."

"Umm," Blair breathed in the aroma before taking a sip. He should be used to Jim's hovering by now and if the truth were known, he was secretly glad when the older man showed his concern. "Thanks man."

Jim moved aside to let Blair exit the small bedroom. He halted him for a moment, tilting Blair's head up so he could inspect the bruise on his forehead and to see if the pupils were okay.

"How are you feeling? Still got the headache?" he questioned.

"A little one, maybe. Not as bad as it was last night, though," Blair assured him. "I'm fine, big guy. Stop worrying."

Blair moved past the older man, he stopped at the dining room table and put his now empty mug down.

"You gonna feel like coming to the station later?" Jim asked as he went into the kitchen. "I bought muffins." He held up a bakery bag.

"Sure, I'll be there around one, I guess. I only have one class today and then I'm supposed to meet with a couple of my students." Blair reached for the bag as Jim brought it to the table. "What kind did you get?"

"Blueberry for me and that moss stuff for you."

"Jim," Blair started to lecture his partner only to be interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

Jim reached for the portable and clicked it on. "Ellison. Oh, hey, Simon."

Blair brazenly eavesdropped on the one sided conversation while he munched on his muffin.

"Simon okay?" he asked when Jim discontinued the call.

"Yeah. The FBI agents wants me for more questions," Jim sat down at the table and reached for the bag of muffins.

"I'll bet," Blair said with a snort. "You leave me any hot water?" he asked, motioning toward the bathroom.

"I'm not the one who uses all the hot water, Sandburg," Jim stated.

"Well, some of us have hair to wash," Blair rose from the table and walked toward the bathroom.

He stopped when a wadded up napkin bounced off his head. "Hey," he protested. "I've got a head injury, man."

"Sandburg, I'm going to give you a head injury."

The smile that Blair sent back to his Sentinel showed his lack of concern. "Ah huh," he said before entering the bathroom and shutting the door.

Blair was zoning on the hot water that was easing the persistent pounding in his head and the stiffness of his bruised stomach muscles. Francisco's goon had certainly gotten some good punches in.

"Sandburg," Jim's voice startled him from his contemplation.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute."

"Just wanted to let you know I'm leaving Chief," Jim said, sticking his head in the bathroom door. "I guess I'll see you about one o'clock then, huh?"

"Yeah, I'll give you a call before I leave the U, okay?" Blair stuck his head around the shower curtain and looked at his roommate.

"Gotcha," Jim nodded before closing the door again. "See ya in a while."

"Right," Blair turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel for his hair and wrapped one around his waist. He waited until he heard the front door close before going to his room to dress for the day. He did not want his roommate to see the multitude of bruises that marred his right side. It would definitely put a crimp in his plans.

"Ellison," Jim growled into the phone.

"Easy, big guy," Blair's voice floated into his ear. "Having a bad day?"

"Oh, hey Chief," just hearing his Guide's voice calmed the Sentinel "Yeah. FBI. Paperwork," no other explanation was needed.

Blair knew his partner hated paperwork and pawned it off on him whenever he could.

"Just hang on. I'm on my way and I'll finish it up for you, deal?"

"Deal!" Jim glanced at the wall clock, surprised to see that it was already past one. "Running late, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I know. Got to talking with one of my students. Brilliant kid, but he doesn't have any motivation," Blair's frustration shown through.

"If anyone can get through to him, it'll be you Professor,"

"Thanks, Jim. Anyway, I'm leaving now and should be there in about forty five minutes," Blair said. "You already have lunch?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a sandwich out of the vending machine in the break room," Jim replied. "You?"

"Nah, but I'll swing by the campus deli and grab something. I'm really not that hungry."

"You feeling okay?"

"Yes, Jim. I'm okay," Blair answered, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

"Okay, okay. Just asking."

"I'm sorry, Jim. It's been a rough morning," Blair apologized. "Anyway, I'll be there in awhile.

"Right," Jim hung up the phone, frowning at the unease he felt all of a sudden.

He gave himself a mental shake and turned his attention back to the forms in front of him.

"You finished yet, Ellison?" A voice came from in front of him.

Jim looked up to see the Captain of the Major Crimes division smiling down at him.

Sure, Sir," Jim leaned back in his chair, tossing his pencil onto his desk. "THEY wanted everything in triplicate."

"Feds and paperwork, huh, Jim?" Simon Banks chuckled at the look of disgust residing on his best detective's face. "To bad Sandburg's not here. You could con him into doing it for you."

"He's already volunteered. He's on his way as we speak," Jim said.

"How's the kid doing, anyway?" Simon came around to the side of the desk and leaned against it. "He bummed about Maya?"

"He's being kind of quiet about it, Sir. I know he's a little upset, but I don't think it hit him as hard as the first time."

"That's good, I guess," Simon nodded. "How's his head?"

"Had a pretty bad headache last night, but he was okay this morning. I kept a close eye on him during the night," Jim reassured the other man.

"One of these days..." Simon shook his head. "That kid is a magnet for trouble."

"Tell me about it," Jim agreed, frowning slightly as the sense of unease reasserted itself.

"Something the matter, Jim?" the captain noticed his friend's frown.

"Hmm? Oh sorry, Captain. I can't put my finger on it, just a sense of...something," Jim rubbed a wrinkled brow.

"What?" Simon asked, then leaned closer to the detective. "Some Sentinel thing?" he whispered.

"Don't know. Maybe," Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Oh well. Guess I'll find out sooner or later." He shrugged.

"Maybe Sandburg can figure it out. I mean, that's what he's here for, right?"

"Come on, Simon," Jim glared back at his Captain.

"Sorry.....sorry," Simon held up his hands. "Didn't mean to ruffle your feathers."

"I'm sorry too, Sir. It's just that...." Jim sent a chagrined look back at his captain.

"Yeah, I know, Jim," Simon put a calming hand on the Sentinel's shoulder. "Me too." Both men smiled as they thought about their police observer.

"He's something else, isn't he, Sir?" Jim chuckled.

"Oh, yeah," A fond smile graced the big Captain's face for a moment, before he straightened and turned the smile into a mock scowl. "Humph. I got things to do and you," he pointed his finger at Jim. "Need to get back to work."

"Aye, aye," Jim saluted smartly.

Jim watched as Simon walked into his office and closed the door, then returned to his paperwork. He worked diligently for several minutes before glancing at the wall clock. It was almost two o'clock and he knew Sandburg would be arriving any minute. Deciding he needed a break, he rose from his chair and grabbed his coffee cup before heading toward the station's break room.

Jim sat at the break room table sipping the fresh coffee. He knew he would need a lot of caffeine to make it through the rest of the day. He had slept in spurts the night before, getting up often to check on his partner.

He sighed, then rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension that had built up. He could not seem to rid himself of the uneasiness that had come over him earlier. A sense of anticipation was building up inside of him and he couldn't seem to get a handle on it.

He shook himself and decided to head back to his desk. He would mention it to Blair and let him figure it out. After all, Blair was the expert on anything that had to do with Sentinels. The young man would spend hours researching any and all materials that had to do with the ancient Watchmen.

"JIM!" Blair's frantic voice had Jim whipping around to look behind him.

Fear and anxiety coursed through the big detective when he noticed the empty hall.

"There you are, Jim," Simon stood at the entrance of the bullpen. "I've been looking for you."

"Simon…" Jim turned back to his captain.

"Has Sandburg gotten a hold of you by any chance?"

"No, he hasn't.....Why, Simon?" Jim asked, a faint tremor evident in his voice.

"Just wondering. A patrolman found his car on the side of the road coming from the university and recognized it," Simon walked over to Jim's side, concerned when he noticed the look on the detective's face. "You okay, Jim?"

"Was Sandburg okay?" the words were a harsh whisper.

"He wasn't in the car, Jim. The car had a flat tire and the spare was missing. The patrolman figured that he caught a ride to a service station or something. He thought Blair may have notified you," Simon explained.

"No Simon. Blair's in some kind of trouble," Jim shook his head, already starting down the hall toward the elevator.

"Now, don't go overboard, Jim," Simon started to protest as he followed his friend.

"You don't understand, Sir."

"Jim!" Simon put a restraining hand on Jim's shoulder, stopping his forward momentum. "WHAT IS GOING ON?"

"Simon," Jim turned frantic eyes on his Captain. "I heard him."

"Heard him?" Simon had a confused look on his face. "Is he here already?"

"No sir," Jim shook his head. "You don't understand. I HEARD HIM!" Jim tapped the side of his head.

"Oh Christ," Simon murmured. "It's one of those Sentinel/Guide things, isn't it?" he lowered his voice.

Jim nodded before he started forward again. "I have to go find him, Sir. He's in trouble."

"Hold on a minute, Ellison," Simon's tone held a touch of steel. "I'll go with you."

Jim reached the elevator and punched the button before turning a grateful look back at Simon. "Thanks, Simon."

The patrolman was still beside Blair's car when Simon and Jim drove up. Jim bolted out of the car and purposely bounded over to the man.

"Sid," Jim greeted the other officer. "Any sign of him?"

"Hey, Ellison. No, but he probably caught a ride to the service station. It's about 5 miles down the road," Sid Eldon replied.

Jim didn't reply, choosing instead to walk around the familiar Grey Corvair. He opened the driver's side door and bent to look inside. Blair's ever-present backpack was gone, so Jim knew that Blair had left his car voluntarily.

Simon walked up beside Jim and bent to peek inside.

"Sid said it's been about 45 minutes. I figure that's been enough time for Blair to have had the tire fixed and come back," he informed Jim. "Where do you think he is?"

"I DON'T KNOW, Simon. There's nothing in the car," Jim closed the door and started walking around the vehicle. He knelt down to inspect the tire marks that were pressed into the loose roadside dirt. He made a mental note of the worn tread marks before rising up to continue his stroll. Sentinel senses were wide open as he gathered scents and scenes from around him.

"Jim?" Simon's voice brought his attention back to the present. "Anything?"

"No sign of foul play, Sir," Jim shook his head, meeting up with Simon on the driver's side.
"Then how do you know anything is wrong?"

"I just do, Simon. I can't explain it," Jim shrugged.

"Alright....alright," Simon held up his hands. "Why don't we take a ride to the service station? See if you can pick up anything along the way?"

"Sounds good," Jim said as he moved toward Simon's car, trying to allay the sense of fear and urgency that boiled inside of him. "Sid?" he paused for a moment and looked back at the patrolman.

"Yeah?" Sid Eldon straightened.

"Do you mind staying here for a little while longer?" Jim asked. "If he shows up, sit on him, would you?"

"Sure, Ellison. I can do that," the other man said.

"Thanks," Jim nodded before resuming his stroll toward the car.

Jim climbed into the passenger's seat and rolled the window down all the way.

"I'll drive close to the side...you know...to let you do your thing," Simon said, waving his hand in the air.

"Thanks, Simon," Jim sent a grateful smile in Simon's direction before turning his gaze back out the window.

"Jim?" Simon asked as he pulled the car onto the street.

"Yeah?"

"Back at the station..you said you heard Sandburg. What did you mean?"

"I can't explain it. I just heard him call my name....and...."Jim paused, unable to find the right words.

"And?" Simon sent a questioning look at his friend.

"And he sounded scared, Simon," Jim's quiet voice sent a shudder through the Captain.

"Jim…" Simon was interrupted by Jim's raised hand.

"Slow down for a minute, Sir," Jim ordered.

"What have you got?" Simon slowed the car and pulled closer to the shoulder.

"I got a whiff of something," Jim focused his sight on the tall grass on the side of the road. "There! Stop the car!"

Simon braked with a suddenness that had Jim gripping the dash.

"What!"

Jim didn't answer, choosing to exit the car and trot into the high grass. Simon climbed out and walked toward Jim.

When Jim picked up a worn leather backpack, Simon instantly knew that it belonged to Blair and the grad student was indeed in trouble.

"Simon," Jim turned frantic eyes his way.

"What can I do to help, Ellison?" Simon laid a calming hand on the Sentinel's back.

"I'll need to focus and I might zone," Jim explained.

"I remember, Jim. Go ahead."

The Sentinel concentrated on his sense of smell, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. He smelled his Guide's scent on the pack he held in his hand but extended his senses further out. His ears sought the familiar heartbeat and his eyes looked for long brown curls framing a youthful face.

A sudden gust of breeze brought the familiar scent and the Sentinel started to walk away from the road.

"This way, Simon!" Jim turned and waved at the Captain.

"Wait, Ellison! Let me lock up the car," Simon protested even as he trotted to the car to lock up. When he turned back, Jim had already moved deeper into the tall grass.

Jim moved purposely forward, senses on full alert. He could feel his Guide's presence, smell the unique scent of the anthropologist and when he picked up the familiar heartbeat, he broke into a run.

The darkness fell away, causing pain to burst forth. He cried out as the pounding in his head became more pronounced. Any movement that he attempted caused the agony to arise.

Each breath that he took brought torment. Nausea came in waves and he began to retch. He tried to turn on his side, but could not find the strength.

When he started to choke, the pain in his head became unbearable and he prayed for the darkness to carry him away.

Suddenly he felt himself being turned to his side and tender hands were holding his head and patting his back.

"Easy, Chief. I've got you," a gentle voice assured him.

He felt something cool on his face and he tried to open his eyes. The attempt brought only agony, causing him to cry out again.

"It's okay, buddy," the voice spoke again and he felt himself being shifted. His head was placed on something soft and supportive. "Just take it easy, Chief."

Though his head still pounded, the intensity of the pain seemed to lessen. He was able to catch his breath and the nausea that had plagued him dissipated somewhat.

A mesmerizing caress to his forehead was distracting and caused the pain to decrease more. He tried to open his eyes again, but the pain burst through, causing him to whimper.

"Shh, don't move, Chief," the voice was like a caress in itself, causing him to relax once more.

"Jim?" a new voice broke through the silence.

"We need an ambulance here ASAP, Sir."

"Sandburg!" the intensity of the new voice filled him with anxiety, causing the pain to pulsate through his head.

"Simon!" a calming hand was placed on his cheek. "Easy…easy…it's going to be okay.

"I'm sorry," the voice was quieter. "Is he alright?"

"I don't think so, Sir. He's got a pretty nasty wound on the back of his head. And he was vomiting when I found him."

"I'll call 911," the deep voice replied.

The hand on his forehead resumed its massage as soft assurances began to float over him. Between the caresses and gentle articulations, the pounding pain began to lessen, causing him to enter a dream like state. Breathing became easier and the tension left his body.

He was just beginning to slip into a blissful sleep when the gentle hands left him and strange hands were laid upon him His head was lifted from the softness and something was placed around his neck.

He screamed in agony as the pain shot through him once more.

"Take it easy, Mr. Sandburg. We're here to help you," the strange voice boomed over him, causing him to cry out.

A sharp pain stung the back of his left hand and caused him to try to jerk it away.

"Be still, Blair. It's me, Mac. And I'm trying to get an IV started here."

He tried to open his eyes as fear and anxiety started to rise up within him, causing him to struggle against the constraining hands.

"Mr. Sandburg! Please!" the booming voice caused him to struggle more.

Hands were placed on both sides of his face and a shadow fell across him.

"Easy now, Chief. I'm right here. Stop fighting now," the whisper reached his ears, causing an immediate sense of calm.

He stopped his struggles and relaxed into the gentle touch, turning his head slightly toward the comforting presence. The presence left briefly as he was lifted from the hard ground and placed upon something soft, but quickly returned.

He felt himself moving and then he was lifted once again. Try as he might, he could not seem to open his eyes. Each attempt brought excruciating pain.

He found that as long as he remained in contact with the gentle hands, the pain was bearable. Whenever the connection was lost, he would whimper until the touch would return.

It was not long before he felt himself being lifted once more and moved again. He lost touch with the comforting presence that was keeping the pain at bay and anxiety began to grow as he was lifted from one place to another. He felt the cold seeping in as his clothes were cut from his body. Strange hands began to move him this way and that, causing the pounding in his skull to grow in intensity. When one eyelid was forced open and a piercing light was shone within the fear and agony burst forth, causing him to arch his back and give a bone-chilling scream.

Simon Banks threw his arms around Jim Ellison and held on. When the horrified scream sounded in the ER cubicle that currently held Blair Sandburg, the Sentinel had shot up from the chair in which he had been sitting.

It took all his strength to hold Jim in place. "Jim! Take it easy! Take it..." Simon tried to reason with the squirming detective. "EASY!"

"God! Simon.....let me go! They're killing him!"

"Jim, get serious," Simon grabbed the other man by the shoulders and shook him. "They're trying to help him."

"Simon, I need to be with him," Jim turned frantic eyes on his captain.

"You'll only be in the way. Now come and sit down. The doctor said he would come and talk to us as soon as he knew something."

Jim nodded and allowed his friend to lead him back to his chair.

"Sorry, Sir," the apology came in a low voice.

"You don't need to apologize, Jim. That scream unnerved me too," Simon said reassuringly.

"Who did this to him, Simon?" Jim leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing at weary eyes. "I mean, how..."

"I've got people investigating, Jim. Let's just concentrate on Sandburg right now."

"You're right, Simon," Jim sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "God....his head again."

"Yeah,
I know," Simon sighed. "It's a good thing the kid has a hard head, Huh?

"I don't think it was hard enough this time, Simon."

"What do you mean?" Simon sent a concern glance Jim's way.

"Just the way he was acting, Sir. He was in so much pain and he wouldn't or couldn't open his eyes," Jim explained.

"Yeah," was the only response from the big captain.

"I think he knew I was there though, don't you?" Jim asked.

"He seemed to be calmer whenever you were nearby," Simon agreed, placing a supportive hand on the other man's shoulder.

"I should be with him," Jim started to rise and Simon tightened his grip.

"They won't let you in there, Jim," Simon shook his head at the detective. "And besides, it's quiet in there now. He's not screaming anymore."

"God, you're right," Jim said as he realized that the pain filled cries has dissipated.

Jim fell silent and tilted his head, searching for the sound of his Guide's heartbeat. He sighed in relief when the familiar thumping reached his ears.

"He okay?" Simon whispered when he noticed what Jim was doing.

"Yes.....yes, he's okay," Jim said as he continued to listen to the medical personnel that was caring for his partner. "They had to give him something to calm him down. They are fixing to send him to x-ray."

"That's routine, Jim," Simon said in reassurance.

"I know," Jim sighed and leaned back once more. "I just hate waiting."

"Well, at least you can find out what's going on. The rest of us mere mortals have to wait until the doctors deem us worthy to receive information." Simon looked over at Jim and tapped his ear.

"Mere mortals, huh?" Jim sent a grateful smile Simon's way.

Simon returned the smile, glad that he was successful in shifting Jim's attention away from the activities that were going on in the small cubicle.

"Yes, Jim. One of these days, I'm going to get you and Sandburg some tights with matching capes," Simon said, replacing the smile with a mock scowl.

"I don't think so! I don't do tights," Jim said with a snort, then grinned as he pictured Blair in tights. "Although the ladies might like to see Sandburg in tights."

"You too, Ellison, you too," Simon informed.

"Excuse me, gentlemen,"

Jim bounded to his feet when he saw the doctor in the doorway of the ER waiting room.

"How's my partner?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"He just went down to x-ray and then we will be moving him upstairs," the doctor informed.

"But, how is he?" Jim insisted.

"I can't tell you anything definite right now. The x-rays will let me know if there are any fractures and if there is any swelling or clotting. I had to give him a sedative before I could even examine him," the doctor said before moving into the room. "I usually don't like to give any type of medication until I know what I'm dealing with, but Mr. Sandburg was very agitated and combative."

"It sounded like you were killing him," Jim's tone was slightly accusing.

"I know. He appeared to be in a great deal of pain. After I sedated him, I was able to finish my preliminary examination," the doctor explained.

"And?" this came from the captain.

"He does have a concussion. His eyes were dilated and the pupils were sluggish to light. He is combative and disorientated. And…" the doctor paused.

"And what, doctor?" the Sentinel moved to stand over the physician.

The doctor was not intimidated by the move, however. He had seen the tender, caring touches that this large man had bestowed on the young man that had been brought in.

"Mr. Sandburg was non-verbal the whole time I was examining him."

"What does that mean?" Simon moved over and sat down in the chair beside the doctor.

"Doesn't mean anything," Jim interrupted. "You said you gave him something."

"That's true. But just enough to calm him down, not enough to knock him out," the doctor said. "He couldn't or wouldn't respond to any verbal stimuli whatsoever.

"What does that mean?" Simon questioned.

"I can't say for sure. I've called Dr Emma Bryce in as a consult. She is one of the best neurologists in the state. She will be doing her own evaluation and she will be able to give you more specific details."

"When will I be able to see him?" Jim asked, finally dropping his intimidating attitude.

"He will be admitted to Room 311. You can go ahead and go up there if you would like. The nurses will let you know when he is settled," the doctor said.

Jim turned and headed for the door at the doctor's words.

"Jim!" Simon called after him, but the Sentinel did not break his stride, heading for the elevators that would carry him toward his best friend. "I'm sorry, doctor. He gets a little intense when it comes to his partner." Simon apologized.

"That's all right," the doctor waved off the apology and stood. "By the way, my name is Dr. Sims." The doctor held out his hand.

"I'm sorry. I'm Captain Simon Banks," Simon shook the doctor's hand. "We're not usually so rude."

"I don't think of it as rudeness, Captain. I can see how much that young man means to the both of you," Dr Sims assured the other man.

"Thank you, doctor. I appreciate your understanding," Simon gave the man a grateful smile.

"Your welcome," the doctor nodded. "Well, I've got things to do. You can go on up if you'd like."

"Okay, thanks again," Simon shook the doctor's hand once more before moving away.

Simon noticed that Jim had not waited, so he strolled over to the elevators and pushed the button. He had a feeling it was going to be a long evening.

Simon found Jim pacing in front of the nurses' station.

"Jim?" Simon moved to stand by the detective.

"Hey, Simon. Dr Bryce is with him now," Jim waved a hand toward Room 311.

"Good," Simon nodded. "Maybe we can find out something definite."

"Yeah," was the Sentinel's response before he resumed his pacing.

"Jim?

"Yeah?"

"Are you listening?" Simon whispered, sending a nervous glance toward the nurses' station.

"I tried, Simon. But my hearing seems to fade in and out," Jim lowered his voice also.

"Why, Jim? What's going on?" the captain turned his concerned gaze on his best detective.

"I don't know, Sir."

"Jim…"

Simon's response was cut short when the door to room 311 opened and a tall woman with auburn hair stepped out of the room. She wore a lab coat with a stethoscope around her neck. She looked up from chart that she had been studying and smiled at the two men waiting at the nurses' station.

"Are you the gentlemen waiting on word about Mr. Sandburg?" the soft voice asked.

"Yes. How's my partner?" Jim walked over to her.

"And you are?"

"Jim Ellison. My partner?" he asked again.

She paused and glanced back down at the chart for a moment before speaking.

"I'm Dr Emma Bryce," She began, reaching out to shake Jim's hand and then Simon's. "I've been asked to evaluate Mr. Sandburg's condition."

"Yes, we know," Jim interrupted. "But, how is my partner doing?"

Dr. Bryce was taken aback at Jim's abruptness and sent a questioning look toward Simon.

"Jim!" Simon chided before turning back to the doctor. "I'm sorry, Dr Bryce. We're worried about Blair," he explained.

"Yes...well," Dr Bryce cleared her throat before continuing.

"Well?" Jim stepped closer.

Though the doctor was tall, she still had to look up at the big detective. At first she felt intimidated but when she saw the worry and fear in the light blue eyes, she visibly relaxed.

"Mr. Sandburg does have a pretty bad concussion. Apparently he received more than one blow to the head."

"Yes, yesterday and then again today," Simon confirmed when Jim did not acknowledge the statement.

"Yes, well, fortunately he does not have any fractures and there is only minimal swelling. The wound to the back of his head was the worst and did require a few stitches," the doctor continued with her explanation.

"Is he going to be okay?" Jim's voice quivered slightly, causing the doctor to look up at him again.

"Barring any unseen circumstances. Mr. Sandburg is going to be fine," Dr Bryce assured. "He seems to be in a great deal of pain, however and although that's not unusual, it's the intensity of the pain that has me concerned."

"What does that mean, Dr. Bryce?" Simon asked

I'm not quite sure. Mr. Sandburg can't or won't speak. I got him to open his eyes for a moment. He is extremely photophobic at present. And he is also disorientated," She explained further.

"Disorientated? How can you tell, if he hasn't spoken?" Jim asked

"We could tell, your partner has a very expressive face," the doctor returned, a gentle smile lighting up her features.

Jim found himself returning her smile and relaxing his stance.

"Don't we know it," Simon snorted.

"When can I see him?" Jim stepped back and gazed longingly at the door to his best friend's room.

"Just a few more minutes. The nurses are getting him settled. I gave him something for the pain and I want to monitor him a little while longer. Just to be on the safe side."

"Can't I sit with him? I'll keep a close eye on him," Jim's voice held a beseeching quality.

Dr. Bryce studied the man's face for a long moment before answering.

"I think I can arrange that," she agreed. "The nurses will let you know when you can go in." She turned to go back into the room.

"Thank you, doctor," Jim laid a hand on her arm.

"Your welcome," she returned. "I'm going to check him once more and then I will see him again later on tonight and then again in the morning. I will let the nurses know your waiting and will be staying for the night."

"Thank you, doctor," Simon said.

The doctor nodded once more before entering the hospital room.

"Simon?" Jim turned to his captain.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to stay with Sandburg. Could you stop by the loft and pick up a few things for me?"

"I can do that, but don't you think you should go home and try to get some rest? You don't know how long the kid will be in here."

"Simon, I NEED to be here with him. And I'll rest just as well here," Jim stated.

Simon threw his arms up in exasperation. "I don't know why I even bother with the two of you," he said in disgust.

Jim smiled and shook his head. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh, determined to stand there until he could be by his partner's side once again.

It was a full ten minutes before Dr. Bryce and the nurses exited the room. Jim straightened, a questioning look residing on his face.

"You can go in now," the doctor informed them. "He's seems to be sleeping right now and his vital signs are good."

Jim nodded before pushing past her and into the hospital room.

"I'm sorry," Simon shook his head. "It seems I am having to apologize to everyone tonight."

"It's all right," the doctor said with a smile. "I have a feeling they are very close."

"Dr. Bryce, you don't know the half of it," Simon returned her smile before entering his observer's room.

Jim Ellison was leaning over his Guide, one hand caressing the young man's cheek while the other was holding Blair's hand.

"It's okay, now Chief," he whispered.

Simon approached the bed and looked at the small figure lying upon it. Blair appeared to be resting. His head was wrapped in bandages and his pale features appeared relaxed except for the wrinkled brow.

"How's he doing?" Simon knew that Jim was doing his own examination on the anthropologist using his Sentinel senses.

"He's sleeping, Simon, not very restful, but sleeping," was the answer. "At least he is not in as much pain as he was."

"That's good," Simon said. "He certainly looks better than he did."

"Yeah, he does."

Simon glanced around the private room and then went over to one of the chairs that had been placed in the room. He pulled one over to the side of the bed.

"Here, Jim. The least you can do is sit down," Simon waved at the chair.

"Thanks, Simon. But I'm okay for now," Jim declined the offer.

"Can I get you anything before I leave?"

"No thank you," Jim finally looked up at him. "I have everything I need right here."

"I know, Jim," Simon said, patting his friend on the back. "I'm going to go then. I'll be back in the morning and I'll bring you a change of clothes.

"Thank you, Sir," Jim said again.

Simon nodded before leaving, glancing back once more at his best team.

Simon opened the door quietly, not wanting to disturb the two men if they were sleeping. He need not have bothered as two light blue orbs speared him as he stepped into the room.

"Can the look, Ellison."

"Sorry, Sir," Jim apologized, rubbing at his suddenly gritty eyes. "Just a little edgy I guess."

"What's going on?" Simon walked over to the bed, dropping the gym bag beside Jim's chair and handing him the cup of coffee that he held.

"Thanks," Jim took the coffee and took a sip. "Umm, that's good."

"He okay?" Simon motioned to the sleeping figure.

"For now. He had a pretty rough night, though," Jim explained. "A lot of pain."

"Dr. Bryce been in yet?"

"Early this morning. She said everything looked good. But she can't figure out why he is hurting so much."

"What are they doing for the pain?"

"They gave him something about 2:00 and then again when Dr Bryce examined him. He can't stand any type of light. Dr. Bryce ordered a MRI. Wants to see if there was anything they missed."

"He seems okay now," Simon walked to the other side of the bed and gazed at Blair.

"He's out," was Jim's only explanation.

Simon sighed, then looked over at his friend.

"Why don't you go take a shower, detective and I'll keep an eye on the kid," he suggested.

"That sounds good," Jim finished his coffee and threw the cup away. He stood and grabbed the gym bag. "I won't be long." He said before moving toward the bathroom.

Simon moved around the bed and sat in the chair Jim had just vacated. He stretched his legs out before him and crossed his ankles. He turned his head to look at the young man that was resting on the bed.

The youthful face was not as pale as it had been the night before and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Simon sighed and closed his eyes. It seemed like he was forever sitting by a hospital bed, especially with these two.

He would not trade them for the world though. He surprised himself at times when he thought about how much he cared for the two of them.

He counted Jim Ellison as one of his best friends and closest confidants. He looked over at the bed once more. And Blair Sandburg brought forth paternal feelings that he could not explain.

Simon heard the shower turn on and an audible sigh followed. A bemusing smile covered his face and he shook his head.

The closeness that Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg shared was awesome in itself. They seemed two halves of a whole. The fierce protectiveness that the two had for one another sometimes astonished even themselves.

A soft moan from the bed had Simon up and out of his chair and at Blair's side in an instant.

He placed a calming hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Easy, kid. Everything's all right," he said in a soothing voice.

The shower had turned off at the first sound from the anthropologist.

"I'm coming, Simon," Jim's voice filtered through the closed door.

"I think he is waking up, Jim," Simon called out.

Blair moaned again, lifting one hand and rubbed at his forehead. He tried shifting in the bed but the movement brought a soft whimper.

The bathroom door was flung open and Jim Ellison emerged, dressed only in slacks and had a towel wrapped around his neck. He strolled purposely over to the bed and laid a gentle hand on his Guide's chest.

"It's okay, Chief. I'm here," he whispered. "I'm right here."

Blair dropped his hand and carefully opened his eyes. The lights in the room had been dimmed and the light that he could perceive did not bring the agony that had previously experienced. He stiffened as he saw the two large men leaning over him and his breath caught in his throat.

"Hey, kid. Welcome back," the large black man spoke, the gruffness in his voice belied the smile on his face.

Jim frowned as he felt the younger man's pulse increase and the light tremors that began to course through the tense body.

"Easy, Chief. I'm here. You are okay," he reassured, as he rubbed soothing circles on his partner's chest.

Dark blue eyes turned his way and Jim felt anxiety course through him. The expressive blue eyes were filled with pain and fear.

"Blair?" Simon reached moved his hand off Blair's shoulder and reached up to touch his head.

The horrified cry that erupted from the young man had Simon snatching his hand back.

"Blair, it's okay, buddy. It's just Simon," Jim assured the observer.

Blair gazed up at Jim, then licked dry lips and tried to speak. The only result was a harsh crooking sound.

Simon quickly poured some water in a glass and handed it to Jim. "Here, Jim. Maybe this will help."

"I'm going to raise your head a little bit, okay Chief?" Jim slowly raised the head of the bed, watching carefully for any signs of distress from his friend. "There. Here's a little water to wet your whistle. Just take it slow."

Jim carefully held the glass up to Blair's lips, letting him take small sips until he had had enough. Handing the glass back to Simon, he lowered the head back down, slowly reaching out to brush back unruly curls from the bandaged forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Simon spoke softly, not wanting to scare the young man again.

Blair's eyes turned his way briefly before moving back to Jim.

"You okay, there, Chief? Are you in pain?"

Blair opened his mouth to speak again, but couldn't seem to speak at first. His eyes remained glued to the Sentinel.

"Easy, Sandburg," Simon couldn't resist reaching out to pat the young man's arm.

"What is it, Chief?" Jim's voice was gentle. "What are you trying to say?"

Blair's gaze switched from one man to another before coming to rest on Jim once more.

"Who....."the frail voice cracked.

"Who?" the Sentinel urged.

"Who are you?"

THE END
(for now.)

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