DISCLAIMER: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Petfly,
Paramount, Di Meo and Bilson. This piece of fanfiction is written for the
enjoyment of ourselves and others. No copyright is intended. No money has
exchanged hands.
RECOLLECTIONS by: Sharif sharif91@ameritech.net
Zamlo nccs@xmission.com
Thanks to JET for doing a last minute beta and Dottie for the wonderful
'forgotten memory'.
Summary: An unexpected package from Naomi brings back memories and a long
forgotten connection for both Blair and Jim.
RECOLLECTIONS
Jim Ellison pulled the blue and white pickup truck into the parking space in
front of his apartment building. He turned to his partner who was slumped
against the passenger window and gave him a gentle shake. "Hey, Junior, we'
re home. Time to wake up."
Blair sat up and looked around, fingers rubbing across forehead and eyes.
"We just left the post office."
"We left the post office half an hour ago. You didn't even wake up when I
stopped to get gas." It was then that Jim noticed the small beads of sweat
dotting his partner's forehead. "Are you feeling okay? You hardly touched
your breakfast and you're looking kind of pale." He reached out to Blair
but had his hand batted aside.
"Jim, will you stop worrying. I just finished putting in a week of grading
finals and getting them posted. Not to mention my own papers that I had to
turn in. It's been two weeks of burning the candle at both ends, and that
tends to take a lot out of a person. I'm beat, mentally and physically. I
think I'm entitled to a few days to play catch up."
"You're entitled, but it still looks like you're getting sick to me. Let's
get upstairs then you can lie down for a while."
"It's ten o'clock on a Saturday morning. I haven't had time to do much of
anything, and sleep isn't the only thing that needs catching up on.
Starting with the wash. I think I'm out of clothes."
"I know you're out of clothes because several of my shirts have been
disappearing. Heck, you're wearing one now," Jim added in a teasing tone,
noticing the hanging sleeves and shoulders. Tell you what, you sleep and I
'll do the laundry." Jim grabbed the box sitting between them and got out,
ushering Blair inside the building ahead of him. "Better take the elevator,
you don't look like you'd make it up the stairs." Jim held the door for his
partner, and Blair reluctantly entered.
"I'd have made them just fine, but if you want to take the elevator it's
okay by me."
Jim held his peace. With Blair looking so worn out, it took all the joy out
of what would have been the usual banter between them. Even without touching
him, he could feel the slightly increased body heat radiating from the man
beside him. He didn't miss the shivers either that Blair was trying to
hide.
Once inside the apartment, Blair headed for the nearest couch and fell onto
it. "Sandburg, not the couch... bed," Jim said as he dropped the package
onto the coffee table.
"Wanna see what Naomi sent, then I will. Okay, Mom?" Jim answered by
taking the afghan from the back of the couch and wrapping it around Blair's
shoulders. He knelt to start a fire as Blair retrieved his Swiss Army knife
and set about cutting the tape from the box. He didn't miss Blair rubbing
his forehead once more.
"Headache?"
"It's not too bad."
"Wouldn't hurt to take a couple aspirin."
Jim went back to the kitchen and grabbed the aspirin bottle and a glass of
water. He dropped two white tablets into Blair's hand and handed him the
glass.
"Thanks." Blair took the aspirin then returned to unwrapping the box.
"Wonder what this is? Mom didn't mention sending anything when I talked
with her." There was a note lying on top of the packaging inside and he
pulled it out.
Sweetie, I came across this when I took some things out of storage. I
thought you might like it back. Talk to you soon. Love you, Mom.
He pushed the packing paper aside and pulled out a photo album. "Oh, wow!
I'd forgotten all about this. I was changing dorms and apartments so often
that I got tired of moving everything and had Naomi store some things for
me. Can't believe I didn't remember that she had this, especially this."
His fingers ran lovingly over the leather cover.
"What is it?"
"The photo album from when I was starting college. Naomi gave me this really
great camera right before I left on my first expedition out of the states,
and I sure put it to good use."
Jim couldn't help responding to the excitement in his friend's voice and
tried to push the worry to the back of his mind. "Let's have a look then.
Can't wait to see where you started your worldly travels." Jim sat down
beside his friend. He didn't miss the wince that ran through his partner as
his weight jarred the cushions. "Are you sure you're up to this now? I can
tell you're hurting."
"Jim, it's nothing. A headache and a few aching muscles. Just need some
sleep." Jim took the admission, such as it was, with a shake of his head,
knowing it was all his friend would admit to.
Blair opened the album, and his fingers ran across the plastic encased
photos and clippings as they had the cover. He continued to turn the pages,
telling Jim where and under what circumstances the photos had been taken.
The lengthy explanations expounding on the various rituals some of them
covered were absent though, testimony to Blair's obvious exhaustion. They
came across one that held his partner's attention longer than the others.
Jim read the caption below it: First Trip to Peru, May l985.
"Peru? Didn't realize it was your first major expedition." He could not
keep the surprise from his voice.
"Yeah, it was. The spring before I started college."
Jim looked closer and tapped his finger against the image of Blair dressed
in a white t-shirt. What could Naomi have been thinking? "You know," he
said, "I was on recon there just about this time. Think maybe I saw you in
another village." He tried to recall the scene before continuing, "There
was this one kid, so skinny, dressed in a blue and white striped shirt with
the sleeves torn out. Remember asking myself what a kid so young was doing
so far from home. He couldn't have been more than 13 or 14."
"Sixteen," said Blair in exasperation. "I was almost l6."
"You wore love beads. Your hair was so long that even in a pony tail it
still fell way down your back." Jim smiled as he tugged on a wayward curl.
"Naomi's love beads. She said to wear 'em for luck." He dropped his head
and mumbled, "Not that they worked all that well."
"Why was that?" Jim asked absently as he continued to bring the long ago
scene into focus.
"Nothing. You know, I kinda remember you too... now that I think about it.
Watched your unit getting ready to pull out and this one tall guy looked
back. That was you, right? I waved, but you didn't wave back." He sounded
as though it was one of the saddest events in his life.
Jim smiled at him, "Hey, I wasn't a very wavy kind of guy back then."
"Back then!" Blair gave a small cough, "I'll say. The man I saw seemed so
alone. I just wanted to say hi, let him know I saw him."
"I remember, Chief. I was amazed at how some scrawny kid I'd never seen
before could lift my spirits with just a smile and a wave."
"Wish I had known that then, but I'm glad it helped." He closed the album
and handed it to Jim. The back cover fell open in the exchange, and a
magazine fell to the floor. Jim picked it up and turned it over, intending
to put it back when he saw his own image staring back at him.
"Blair, when did you send off for this back issue of News Update?" Jim
asked, surprised at his discovery.
"I didn't. Bought it when it was on the newsstands all those years ago."
"Why?" Jim asked. "Why buy it? Why keep it?"
Blair shook his head. "Just seemed important to have it." He raised a hand
to rub his eyes again.
The gesture did not go unnoticed as Jim closed the book and set it back on
the coffee table. "Come on kid, time to start playing catch up." Jim took
Blair's hand and pulled him to his feet, automatically cataloguing the l0l
degree temperature. He aimed his partner in the direction of his bedroom
and gave him a gentle shove. "Bedtime."
Blair did not protest and Jim followed, making a quick stop to grab a glass
of juice. He found Blair sitting on the edge of his futon, contemplating
his sneakers. Jim handed him the juice then made quick work of the
shoelaces. He pulled the sneakers off, insisted Blair drink some juice,
then took the glass and helped him lie down, covering him with the quilt.
"I'll leave the juice on the nightstand." Blair was asleep before he left
the little room.
Jim gathered up the laundry and headed off to the basement. Several hours
later he had finished the wash and other odd jobs around the apartment he
had been putting off. He sat down with a bowl of soup to eat a late lunch.
As he ate, he pages through the photo album, returning to the Peru picture.
He was amazed not only that they had actually "met" before the reemergence
of his senses and he hadn't remembered it, but that Naomi had left such a
frail looking little boy out of her sight much less out of the country.
Blair looked so small and boyish compared to the other students, way too
young to be on his own, especially in a foreign land. Jim couldn't help
looking to see if a teddy bear dangled from one hand as he traced the
familiar features before him.
"Jim?" a plaintiff voice came from the small bedroom.
*Damn, how did he wake up and I didn't notice?* He quickly closed the book
and went to his partner, the rest of his lunch forgotten.
"Hey, buddy, what's wrong? You hungry? I have some soup heated up." Jim
sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and took Blair's hand. *Almost l03 and
definitely not feeling better,* Jim noted.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." Blair tired to untangle himself from the
quilt, succeeding in only making it worse as he fought the blanket.
"Easy. Let me help. Keep breathing, that's it. Take it easy. Almost
done," Jim said softly as he hurriedly unwound the quilt from around the
jean-clad legs and helped Blair up. He could feel Blair struggle to hold
off vomiting until they reached the bathroom. Jim got him to his knees
before the toilet just as Blair lost the battle with his stomach. He stood
by, wanting to do something to ease the spasms that went on and on, but
resigned himself to holding back the loose hair from Blair's face, rubbing
circles over the shaking back, and whispering nonsense words as the vomiting
went on an on. He could feel stomach muscles cramping violently as the time
spent on the floor increased.
After what felt like an eternity, it stopped and Blair laid his head on the
toilet lid, his energy spent. Jim wiped the sweaty face with a warm cloth
and tried to get Blair to his feet. "Come on, let's get you back to bed."
"...stay here. Don't know if it's over."
"Okay, I'll be right back." Jim made a dash for Blair's room and returned
with the comforter and pillow. He put them on the floor then helped Blair
lie down, covering him with half of the comforter. "That's it. Better now?"
"Feel dizzy...."
"Lying down should help. Will you be all right here for a few minutes? I'm
going to go down and move the truck closer to the door. I think we should
make a trip to the emergency room." Jim kept up the soothing circles on
Blair's back through the comforter.
"No hospital. It's just the flu. It's all over the university. I'm
surprised I didn't get it before this."
Blair's weak voice and barely heard words did little to ease Jim's concern
as he watched the sweat trickling down his partner's neck and felt the fine
tremors that coursed through the heated body.
As if reading his mind, Blair continued, "Don't worry, Jim, it doesn't last
long. Just makes you wish you were dead for a little while." Blair's eyes
closed, and he pulled the quilt closer as the tremors became obvious shakes.
"Don't say that, Chief. If you feel that bad I think we should go. Now."
Jim's resolve had increased with Blair's statement and he moved to help his
partner up. "Come on, Junior, I'll help you. They'll have you feeling
better in no time," Jim murmured but knew it was to bolster his own lagging
confidence as much as it was to reassure Blair.
"Jim, stop." Blair shakily tried to push Jim's hands away. "I was much
sicker in Peru; this is nothing compared to that."
"What has Peru got to do with this?" Jim questioned, sure the fever was
causing Blair to hallucinate and gave up trying to get him to his feet,
instead slipping his hands under his partner and he easily lifted him into
his arms.
"Put me down, and I'll tell you," Blair demanded as he squirmed to get down.
Jim wavered but reluctantly lowered him back to the floor. He pulled the
comforter higher around the sweaty neck then began to push the damp curls
away from the flushed face. "All right. I'm listening but this better be
good. No obfuscating either."
"Absolute truth. Okay. a while after I saw you I came down with some kind of
jungle fever." The glassy, almost too bright eyes looked up at him, but
before Jim could say a word, they had lowered again and Blair was continuing
his story.
"After the first day or so I don't remember much about it, only know what
others told me. When I woke up, I was in a.Lima hospital and Naomi.was
there" The words were getting softer, slurring some, and Jim was unsure if
it was physical or mental exhaustion causing it. "Soon as I was
strong.enough to travel we flew home, and I spent the rest of the.summer
recuperating at a.commune in New.Mexico."
Jim was having a hard time reconciling the mother who let her little boy go
off to Peru with the mother who flew half way around the world to be with
that same sick youngster. The two images just did not want to merge with
one another.
"How come you never mentioned it before?" Jim could not stop the question.
"It's not something I.think about all that often. Seems like there's
something else I should be remembering, too.just won't come." Blair reached
to rub his forehead. Jim pushed the hands aside and began rubbing tiny
circles across the hot forehead and temples. "Feels like it's something
important." Blair seemed to deflate before Jim's eyes as he finished and
Jim felt guilty at having questioned the sick young man.
"Give it time, okay. It'll come to you, but for now how about a compromise?
I'll call Ian and see what he has to say. If he thinks we need to come in,
then we go. Deal?"
"Okay." The dark head nodded slightly.
"Will you be okay here while I call?" Jim repeated his earlier question.
"I'm not going anywhere, promise," Blair answered tiredly and snuggled
further down into the quilt.
"Be right back. Call if you need me." Jim didn't wait for the reply as he
knew none would be forthcoming and left to make the call.
He dialed the emergency room number, long since memorized, and waited for
Dr. Ian MacKenzie to answer his page. After a few minutes wait, the
familiar voice of the ER doctor came on the line. "Dr. MacKenzie here."
"Ian, it's Jim Ellison."
"Jim, haven't heard from you in at least two months. You're really messing
up all the pools around here. People are having to scrap them and start all
over again. So what can I do for you? Bet it has something to do with that
partner of yours."
"Don't throw those pools out yet, Ian, Blair hasn't been feeling well all
day. His temperature is almost l03, he's been vomiting for the last two
hours. He's sweating and has the chills, yet refuses to let me bring him
in. We decided to leave it up to you. You do think I should bring him in,
right?"
"No, I'm siding with Blair on this one, Jim."
"Ian, I really think.."
" He'll be much more comfortable at home, Jim, and there's really nothing we
can do here that you can't at home. This strain of flu has been running
rampant through the university. The vomiting usually only lasts a few hours
and from what you said, I take it that part's over."
Jim couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd had no doubts that Ian would
agree with him. He was here, after all, the doctor was not and this was
serious. Blair needed to be in the hospital. With effort he reined in the
building anger, trying to keep from saying something he'd regret and let the
doctor's words filter through his frustration.
"The rest should start letting up soon and by morning he should feel quite a
bit better. His fever is higher than I like, but we'll see if you can't get
that down at home now that the vomiting is over."
Jim's jaw convulsively tightened to the point that he was sure he couldn't
speak. In an effort to ease it, he let his hearing split, pulling in the
sound of Blair's heartbeat and holding it close. He let the gentle wash of
Blair's breathing settle over him, and felt himself start to relax, just a
little, but it was enough to allow speech once more. "But I don't think he
can keep any aspirin down yet."
"That's why I want you to get him into the tub. See if you can't cool him
down that way. Start out warm and then cool it down. It shouldn't take too
long. By that time you should be able to try a little white soda. If he
keeps that down try the aspirin. Jim, if you can't get the fever down in
the next hour, bring him in, but I really don't think that's going to
happen," the doctor concluded.
"In other words, take two aspirin and call you in the morning." Jim tried to
control his irritation at not having this go the way he knew it should.
"Essentially, that's it. Call if you need anything. I'll be here all
night.And, Jim, he is going to be all right; if I didn't believe that, I
wouldn't hesitate about having you bring him in."
"One hour, Ian, just one hour, and if the fever hasn't dropped significantly
or he starts vomiting again, I'll be bringing him in." Jim would have sworn
he heard a small chuckle as he hung up and returned to his partner.
"Blair, you awake?" The question was answered with a small nod of the curly
head. "You win, for now. As long as we can get that fever down, you get to
stay home. Ian doesn't think you'll be able to keep aspirin down for a
little while yet, so that means the bathtub. You up to it?" Jim stepped
over his partner and started filling the tub.
"Don't wanna get in the tub. Want to sleep." Sounding more like the young
boy in the photo than the anthropologist of today, Blair pulled the
comforter closer around himself.
"Tub or hospital, your choice." Jim's tone left little doubt that he wasn't
kidding.
"Bully..." Blair released the quilt and pushed it aside. "Anybody ever
tell you that you have a lousy bedside manner?"
A joke no less, maybe Blair was starting to feel a little better.
Jim got Blair to his feet, steadying him as he helped unbutton his jeans and
slip them and his boxers down, before sitting him on the closed toilet lid.
Jim pulled his own dark blue henley off his partner, uncharacteristically
tossing it to the side. He tested the water, then helped Blair step into
the tub and ease himself down. "Feels good, huh? Should help with the
muscle and stomach cramps, too."
Blair didn't answer, just leaned back against the tub. Jim chuckled and
grabbed the bath sponge and began to run the water over his partner with one
hand while trying to ease the cramps with the other. Tight little circles
that gradually became wider as he felt the taunt stomach muscles beneath his
hands begin to relax. He stopped for a moment, turned the hot water down
and let the cold water trickle into the tub.
"Don't stop, please. Feels good, doesn't hurt so much now," came the
plaintive, sleepy request.
"Shh. Just rest, I won't stop." He continued to sponge Blair, silently
wondering how long it would take before the protests set in.
The muscles gave in even more, responding to the warm water and Jim's
massaging hands. "Hedonist," rippled playfully through Jim's mind and he
hoped he hadn't spoken it out loud.
"Jim," Blair spoke quietly, "I think I'm remembering what I was trying to
before." He settled deeper into the water, sighing softly.
"And that would be..." Jim continued, feeling himself relax somewhat as he
felt Blair's temperature start to lower. *102 and going down,* he thought
to himself. Maybe Ian was right.
"When I was sick back in Peru, I had this dream. It must have been a dream,
although at the time I felt it was real, that I was really there. I was in
the jungle and didn't have a clue how to find my way back to the village."
"Sounds more like a nightmare than a dream."
"It was. I knew I was lost, but I wasn't afraid because I knew someone was
with me. I could sense him following me, even though I never really saw
him. I would feel him and turn around fast, thinking I would catch whoever
it was. But I never did, never saw the whole person or even his face, just
the eyes. Every time I looked, the eyes would be there - beautiful blue
eyes. He didn't scare me. I didn't like that I never saw the face or the
man, but I wasn't afraid of him."
"And how do you know that whoever was there was a he?"
"I just knew, Jim. Don't know how, but I did. When I would first turn,
real quick you know, the eyes would be looking around, like he was scouting
the area, keeping watch. Then they would turn to me and soften, like
whoever they belonged to was smiling but was afraid to let it reach their
eyes. But I saw it, Jim. I know he was smiling at me." Then the tone
abruptly changed without warning.
"Hey, this is getting cold. Turn the hot water up." His eyes didn't open as
he voiced the protest, but the surreal atmosphere was beginning to fade. Jim
did not want to lose the feeling but had no idea how to keep it, was
searching for a way, when Blair said softly, "Jim, they were your eyes. I
know that now. I think I knew it when I saw the News Update cover; like I
knew it but I didn't know it. That's why I bought the magazine. Not
because the soldier hadn't waved at me, but because he was there when I
needed him. Does any of this make any sense to you?" Even with the cooling
water Blair was beginning to give into the sleep he needed.
"It makes perfect sense. I'll always be there to watch over you, Blair.
Somehow you must have known that back then, too, even though we hadn't
actually met yet. I'd like to think that's what it was and that somehow you
could feel the connection even then."
"Yeah, that must have been it...And Jim, I'll always be there for you, too."
Blair whispered.
"I know you will, Chief."
Blair started to shiver and Jim took it as the signal to reluctantly break
what was left of the mood and get his partner out of the tub. His
temperature had gone down to 101.5 and Jim felt that the worst was behind
them. He let the water start to drain and tossed Blair's comforter and
pillow out into the hall. He grabbed his own robe from behind the door and
helping Blair to stand, wrapped the heavy terry cloth around his shivering
partner. Jim helped Blair out into the living room and set him on the couch
while he went to fetch the soda and aspirin.
"Here you go, Chief. Let's see if you can keep this down." Jim handed over
the glass of soda. "Not too fast, just sip a little a time." Jim kept a
close eye on his friend, monitoring him for any sign that the soda would
make a return visit. After several a tense few minutes, Jim let him self
start to relax.
"Okay, want to try the aspirin next?" A tired nod was his only answer and
Jim gave his partner the aspirin.
"Would you like to stay out here for a little while yet or go back to your
room?"
"Stay here.Okay?" Blair rested heavier against Jim, his head tucked firmly
beneath Jim's chin.
"That's fine, buddy. Just sleep for a bit, you'll feel better when you wake
up." Jim began rubbing the terry covered back in gentle circles.
A few minutes later Blair started to nod off again, yet Jim found he couldn'
t give up on the close feeling that had surrounded them. Instead of getting
Blair into bed, he pulled the curly head down to his lap and covered him
with the afghan. A gentle hand smoothed the mussed curls as Jim watch the
flames dance in the fireplace.
Without effort he soon found himself in Blair's vision. His partner slept on
the jungle floor, the sounds of wind and animals surrounded him, muted
sunshine dappled the sleeping form, and in the deep shadows a man and jaguar
kept watch.
All was as it should be. The guardian would keep watch.
As it was, so shall it be, forevermore.
END