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.

YEAH THOUGH I WALK by: Sharif    sharif@ameritech.net

                                                    Zamlo   nccs@xmission.com

Warnings:  Some violence.

 Summary:  Jim is out of town when he gets a devastating call from Simon.

COLD. That was the first sensation he became aware of. A cold that settled into his bones and chilled him from the insideout.

 He hurt everywhere and could not seem to move. Hunger crept in, too, but was overwhelmed by thirst. His mouth was so dry it was impossible to even swallow. Overlying everything was a heavy fog that blanketed his thoughts and filled his mouth. *Chloroform.*  He fought his way out from under its effects and tried to concentrate. It was so hard to remember.

He calmed himself, hoping it would help. A few moments later the memory of a phone call tickled at him. Naomi. Something about a once-in-a-lifetime retreat. Could she see him another time?  He thought he had told her not to worry, too great to miss. Go…Was he still at the university?

He was jolted out of the cocoon of his thoughts by the sound of running water and someone whistling. With effort he managed to force his eyes open. Bright sun assaulted them and he quickly closed them.  He tried again.   More slowly this time, allowing his eyes to become accustomed to the brightness.  With concentrated effort he managed to focus and saw a man standing in front of him holding a glass of water. He tried to get his mouth to cooperate but could not get the words out.

The rather disheveled looking man seemed to know what he wanted though. "Thirsty, huh? Bet you’d like some nice cold water." He bent forward to offer the glass to Blair then spilled the contents within inches of reaching his open mouth. Blair watched as the cold liquid soaked into his shirtfront, chilling him further. "Oops, sorry. Must have tripped.  Maybe we can try again later if you behave yourself." Behave?  What did that mean?

"W..ho"

"Who am I? That what you want to know, professor?…I’m your worst nightmare come to life. You’re going to pay for what you did to my boy."

Blair looked at the man, and wondered what he had done to be in his current position. *Wish I knew who I pissed off in a former life. Maybe I could do something to avoid it next time around.*  His mind wandered over and through the thought. Not that it would do him any good but it helped to focus on something other than the huge lunatic standing before him, grinning insanely. *Stick to the basics.* he told himself and tried again. "Wh....o?"

"Already told you that. Let’s just cut out the small talk and get onto the reason we’re here." The man tossed the glass into the sink; Blair heard it shatter as it made contact. “I’m going to untie you. Don’t try nothin’."

*Untie me!*  It was only then that he realized his hands were tied to the metal frame of the old bed he was lying on. His eyes quickly traversed the room, noting the location of the door. He needed to escape.

*Jim, where’s Jim?*  Was he tied up somewhere? Maybe he was hurt, needed help! Blair resisted the urge to pull at the ropes and tried to center himself as he felt his hands being untied. His eyes turned to the door on the far side of the room as he felt the rope loosen. As it fell away he made his move. He pushed out recklessly, surprised but pleased when the man lost his balance and fell backwards. He pulled himself to his feet and stumbled across the floor towards his goal. Just as his hands grasped the doorknob, he was jerked away from it and literally tossed across the room. His head hit the broken corner of a table, cutting his cheek as he fell. He could feel the blood streaming from the cut even as his vision grayed out.

He felt himself being roughly pulled up and around then dropped once more to the floor. Heavy boots connected with his middle and he drew his arms and legs about him in an effort to protect himself.  "Told you not to try nothin’. Gonna show you LeRoy Jenkins ain’t to be fooled with. Hurt me or mine and I’m hurtin’ back." The blows and kicks continued to fall. The more he tried to protect himself, the angrier Jenkins got and the harder the blows became. As one strong fist connected with his head he gave into the void that had been waiting just out of his reach. One obscure part of his brain had just enough time to register the cessation of the beating before he knew nothing more.

                                                ********************************

An unknown length of time later Blair felt himself coming to. He groaned as he tried to sit up and found his hands and feet bound to the frame of the bed again. He was on his back, his arms stretched out over his head and tied to the frame. His muscles ached and cramped from the uncomfortable position.  He pulled harder to free himself and was rewarded with the rope digging deeper into his already lacerated flesh.

"Decided to join the living again. You’re stronger than you look, you know that?" Blair just groaned and turned his head away from the madman. "I was complementing you, professor, don’t you turn away. When I’m talkin’, you look at me." Jenkins backhanded him across the face and then turned him back. "See I’m gonna have to teach you some manners. Didn’ no one ever teach you to respect your elders, boy?"

"Why?" It was all he could get out through his cotton-filled mouth. He needed to know why this was happening.

"Those big fancy schools are all the same. Go and fill a boy’s head full of all kinds of nonsense, get him wanting all sorts of stuff. Then when you got him hooked, tell him he ain’t good enough for it. That’s what you did with my Johnny.  Promised him he could have it all, than kicked him out. Johnny couldn’t take it, broke his heart. Went out and kilt himself." Blair heard the voice breaking and for a second let himself feel sorry for the man. It was short lived. "Johnny was my only boy. You, Mr. High and Mighty University Professor, are gonna pay for what you did."

*John Jenkins.* Try as he would he could not recall a student by that name. "Mr. Jenkins, I’m sorry... Johnny. I’m sure he was...bright boy. Wish I...known him." He knew it wouldn’t do any good but he had to try.

Blair shivered as a gust of wind blew in through the open window. "Cold? I can fix that." Jenkins turned and walked over to the fireplace and bent to start a fire, all the time muttering about lying schools and how he was going to make them sorry for what they did to his boy. Blair shivered, this time not from the cold.

Blair turned his thoughts to Jim and wondered again if he had been taken as well. He couldn’t recall if his partner had been with him or not.  It was getting harder and harder to think and he shook his head to help clear the cobwebs. All it did was make his headache worse.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as heard the footsteps returning. When he saw what was in the man’s hand he tried to pull himself as far against the wall as his bound limbs allowed. "Wh..at….?" Blair stammered as his heart pounded against his ribs.

"Said you were cold, thought I’d help you warm up."

"No! Ple..ase do..n’t." Blair stuttered as he pulled as far away from Jenkins as he could get.

The man continued forward, fire poker extended. Blair bucked and fought. Just as Jenkins bent forward, Blair heaved upwards, hitting the man’s arm. The poker missed its mark, hitting instead along his jaw. He cried out as the pain tore through him, burning along the nerves in his jaw and neck. He closed his eyes, holding back the tears that threatened, not wanting to give Jenkins the satisfaction. A minute later he felt water splash over him, cooling for an instant the intense burning. It ended too quickly, and the burning returned full force.  "That should help some. Don’t want it said I don’t take good care of my guests." Blair lay there, wondering how he could be burning and freezing at the same time. He glanced out of the open window, and let his consciousness fade with the sunlight, more than willing to seek escape from the pain anyway he could. His last thought was of his partner, hoping that Jim was far away from here.

                                                                ************************

//Blair drifted, the pain a distant reminder of the reality that awaited. He was in no hurry to return and burrowed deeper into the darkness, walked deeper into the woods he found himself in. He moved over and around brush and uprooted trees, stumbling repeatedly. There was a soft whimper at his side.  He looked down and saw a wolf staggering along beside him. The wolf whined again and pushed closer to him. He fisted his hand in the thick fur and together they made their way through a forest that seemed intent upon holding them captive.//

                                                               ***********************

Blair felt the tug of consciousness. This time when he opened his eyes there was only the pale sheen of moonlight highlighting the walls and furnishings of the cabin. Jenkins was nowhere around. Whether asleep in another room or gone, he had no way of knowing. His jaw still burned while the rest of him was shaking from the cold.

 He knew he had to get out of there. The bed frame shook as he pulled at the ropes.  He stopped abruptly at the telltale rattle, afraid of waking Jenkins if he was in the other room. There seemed to be little he could do to escape. *Think, think. There has to be something I can do.*  An idea came and he began to saw the ropes along the frame instead of tugging at them. It soon became apparent though that the only things letting go were his wrists. He could feel the blood dripping from them to the floor below.

Feel…Touch.  His thoughts turned to Jim.  Although he could not be sure, he did not think Jim had been taken. This seemed to have nothing at all to do with police work, which meant Jim would be out there right now looking for him. A small, niggling thought beat against his brain like hummingbird wings. It was there, just waiting to be remembered. Jim would know. Jim would find him soon and he would...ask him. Blair gave in, letting himself drift wherever the currents in his mind took him.

                                                             ****************************

Someone was shaking him and he tried to roll over, to go back to sleep. "Come on, Professor, time to wake up. I’ve got a fun packed day planned for us." The shaking got harder and he groaned with the movement. "Better listen, I’m only going to tell you this once.  When I untie you don’t go makin’ any fool moves like yesterday.  Didn’ work then and you were in much better shape than you are now." The ropes were loosened and his hands fell free. Pins and needles shot up through his arms as he brought them down to his sides. Soon the same needles were rushing up his legs and someone was pulling him to his feet. He bit back the cry that formed in his throat as he stood and was pushed forward. He stumbled and the hands caught him and half dragged him forward. Seconds later he was shoved into a small room. "You got five minutes, best make use of ‘em."

Blair relieved himself then washed his hands before cupping them together under the running water. He was just about to take a drink of the blessed wetness when the door flew open and his hands were batted down. The water splashed into the sink and he was left to stare as it trickled down the drain. "You have to earn that, and after that stunt yesterday it’s going to take some doing." Blair raised his gaze to look at the stranger before him. "Yester..day?"  What had he done yesterday? His head hurt, his whole body ached, he could barely move and now he was being told he had done something wrong.  Yesterday?  That was too far away for him to remember. *Jim? Where is Jim? He’ll know.*

He dazedly looked around, hardly aware of his surroundings as he was hauled back out to the main room. He was pushed forward on the bed, face down this time, and his hands and feet retied. Seconds later his shirt was torn off, a knife tip grazed his back as it slit the neckline of his t-shirt. He tried to pull away from it only to be held down. "This ain’t nothing compared to the party we’re going to have." He was in no hurry to find out what that meant. Soon he was shirtless. The nearby window was still open, light flooded the small room and the breeze brought the promise of an early summer with it.  If he tried maybe he could forget where he was.  He tried to relax and let the warming breeze wash over him.

He had no concept of time. It could have been minutes or hours. A whistling sound tickled his ears and with it came pain like he had never felt. He was jolted to awareness by a sudden crack and leather snaking across his back. He cried out and heard Jenkins laugh. "That oughta wake you up, boy. Time to start payin’ up." Again the whistle and crack, more pain as he felt the tender skin of his back tear. He tried to sink into the mattress and disappear. "Stop... ple..ase." His cries did no good. The whip continued to strike, cutting his back, shoulders and sides. Blood ran in heavy rivulets, soaking into the mattress. Over and over he tried to chant a meditation mantra, but could never get hold of it before another blow landed and stole it from him.

Eventually he became aware that the whipping had stopped and he was alone again. He opened his eyes and saw the sun setting over the treetops in a myriad of violets, reds and pinks. * West* flitted through his mind. He started to laugh at the absurdity of the thought but tears filled his eyes and he bit back the sobs.  Where was Jim?  *Does he know I’m gone yet?* It suddenly occurred to him he might never see Jim again.  It was too much to comprehend and he felt the panic and hopelessness fill him as he was swept into the darkness.

And so it continued without pattern, without reason. No food was offered. Water was poured out onto the floor as he was forced to watch, not one drop making it to his cracked lips. He would be awakened repeatedly by the sound and bite of the whip.  Once it had been the man’s cigar tip burning along his ribs that had caused him to scream out Jim’s name until he was hoarse.  It echoed in his mind, replacing the litany he had sought earlier. *Jim, Jim, Jim...........* Over and over it followed him into oblivion and back again.

Time became irrelevant. It came. It went. Measured only in degrees of agony. He pleaded. He prayed. He wept. He dreamed.

//A forest again, this time he knew he had to get to the other side. As he studied it and wondered how he was to find his way through, a path began to form--an inch or two that gradually widened into a footpath. He hesitated for a moment than stepped forward.  As he did he felt the brush of heavy fur against his leg and looked down. The wolf trotted beside him. After taking a few steps, Blair looked back to see that the trees and bushes had once more reclaimed the path. There was no going back, only ahead. It did not frighten him but he did feel a deep sadness sweep across him. With no other choice, he and the wolf continued on, the sadness settling deeper within his heart with each step until he could fight the ache no longer and stopped.

*It is but a short distance, come my brother.*

Blair looked around, confused. Where had that come from? Only the wolf was here. He looked again and saw the wolf trot out ahead, the path opening before him. Unsure of what to do, he hesitantly followed. In the distance he could see a pale light that grew brighter and radiated warmth as they neared it. This part of the forest was cold and dark, even more so behind them, and he hurried ahead to catch up with the wolf. Just as they neared the glowing section of the forest a large, black jaguar leapt onto the path, effectively blocking their way. *Let us pass.*

*You cannot continue, you must turn back.*  The words rang in Blair’s head and he answered in kind, not finding it strange at all to be conversing with a jaguar like this.

*But I must.*

*Your work here is not finished, there is still much to do.* As the words continued the jaguar began to morph into his sentinel. *You are my guide. You cannot leave.*

*I must go. My strength is gone, I cannot guide you any longer. Please, let us pass.*

*No!! My strength is yours. Use it to travel back along the path.*

*There is no longer a path behind. I must go forward.*

*Look.* As he "spoke" Jim reached out a hand and Blair turned his head to see the path reopen behind him.

*But I am so tired.*

*I know, little one. The journey will not be an easy one but I will not leave your side.*

*To...geth..er?*

*Always.* Jim held his hand out to his guide. Blair slowly inched his fingers into the outstretched hand until they lay in the open palm. Jim smiled and closed his hand around that of his guide. As it locked firmly about his, Blair felt a surge of energy travel through him leaving warm, golden threads in its wake. He gasped in astonishment as his tired body responded and he felt the energy blossom and then bloom within him.  The threads wove in and around their joined hands, binding them together.

*Jim?*

*We have to hurry. It won’t last long.* With his hand clasping Blair’s tightly, Jim turned him back the way he and the wolf had come. The journey did not seem as long as before but he felt himself start to tire before they had made it through the trees. His legs collapsed under him with the clearing in sight.

*Can’t go any further. Too tired. I’m sorry, Jim.*

*It’s right ahead. Just a few more feet.* Even as Jim spoke, Blair felt himself being scooped up into strong arms and seconds later they broke from the trees into the clearing. Jim lowered him to the ground beneath a tree and sat beside him. Blair glanced around. Sunlight dappled the ground around them.  Deer grazed contentedly on the green grass and butterflies hovered above the wild flowers scattered about. Just as he was closing his eyes, he thought he saw a unicorn drinking from the brook that chattered nearby. Jim laughed from deep in his chest as he pulled the curly head to his shoulder and closed his arms around him. *Sleep now. I’ll be here. The journey has just begun.*

Blair let the warmth of Jim’s body soak into his, easing just a bit the bone deep weariness. As his eyes drifted shut he noticed the wolf and jaguar lying side by side along the edge of the clearing. The wolf’s head lay upon the jaguar’s front paws and the black head rested gently upon the gray one. Content for now, Blair let the beat of Jim’s heart lull him to sleep.//

                                                  *********************************

Jim Ellison hated the word rotation.  He especially hated it when it meant it was his turn to represent Major Crimes at another inane police convention.  Three long days of tiresome lectures and pointless workshops had about brought him to the end of his patience.

His partner and best friend, Blair Sandburg, was spending those same three days with his flighty but much loved mother.  How he envied them both at this moment.  He knew Blair and Naomi had planned to travel further up north to see some old friends, so he hadn’t even bothered trying to call.  Blair was due to be back in Cascade sometime today, so as the wearying last speech drew to a close Ellison retreated to his room and decided to call home.  The phone rang but went unanswered. 

He decided to accept the offer to meet some fellow detectives for the supper buffet.  The phone rang as he opened the door to leave. Grimacing at the delay, he sighed and  returned, grabbing the phone from its cradle.  "Ellison."

The tense voice on the other end sent a stab of fear through him.  "We have a situation here, Jim.” Simon’s concern came through loud and clear.  “I know Sandburg was supposed to be with his mother but her plans changed and Blair told me he was going to put in some time at the university.”

 Jim could hear the slight hesitation in Simon’s voice.  “Nothing unusual with that, Sir.”  He did not want this to go any further, did not want to hear what was sure to follow.

 “Jim, please, you’re not making this any easier.”  He felt his chest tighten up and could not get his lungs to pull in the air he desperately needed.  His legs gave out and he sank heavily onto the bed.

“Jim, are you alright?  Do you want me to call the front desk?  Jim. Answer me!”  Simon demanded. 

“I’m okay.  Tell me.”  He whispered as he prayed that Simon wouldn’t say the words he had only heard in nightmares. 

“We’ve been swamped here and I hadn’t seen or heard from him in several days.  You’re paperwork was all caught up so I didn’t think too much about it, figured he was just busy at the university. Thought I’d track him down after work today and we could grab a quick bite to eat and then watch a game on TV.”

“Simon…”

  “Okay…A few minutes ago a call came in to the front desk and Sergeant Robinson forwarded  it to me when he heard the description.”  The voice faded out a bit then continued.  “Seems some people were hiking up in the mountains east of here and found a man in pretty bad shape in one of the cabins.  Fits Blair’s description.  Units have already been dispatched but it’s going to take some time to get up there.”

Ellison stared at nothing, transfixed in shock.  His numbed mind could not completely assimilate what Simon had just told him.  Blair wasn’t with his mother.  His Guide was in danger. 

“Jim…You’re not zoning on me, are you?  Talk to me! Snap out of it, Detective.  We don’t have time for this.  We need you here.”

Jim shook off the horror cutting through his gut and forced himself to listen. "I know, Simon.  I’m leaving for the airport now.  I’ll be there as soon as I can."  He dropped the phone, threw his belongings into his bag and was out the hotel room door in less than two minutes.

                                             ***********************************

 Jim ran through the emergency room doors, his heart pounding in his chest not as much from his haste as from the terror of what condition he would find his partner in.  When he had arrived at the airport he had phoned Simon.  His captain’s voice had sounded uncharacteristically nervous as he told Jim they had found the cabin and that he was in communication with the officers at the scene.  Jim recognized Adam Taylor’s voice in the background as it had carried over the airwaves.  "We’re at the cabin, Captain.  Sanderson is taking the hikers statement while we check it out.”

Jim could hear the sound of feet crunching across gravel then up rickety wooden stairs.  A door squeaked open on rusty hinges and Taylor came to a stop. There was a startled gasp and then Taylor was speaking to whoever was with him.  The words had chilled Jim and nearly made his knees buckle.   “Get life flight up here stat.”

“Simon! Simon! What’s happening? What’s wrong with Blair? Answer me!”

Another moment of maddening silence passed before Jim heard Edwards’ clipped words filter through the system.  “I don’t think he’s going to make it, Captain."  All the way to Cascade those words had churned through his mind.

He tried not to think about what had happened to his friend, but couldn’t shut the images down.  What had Blair gone through?  What horrors had he been forced to endure?   While Jim was complaining about the seminar, griping about the boredom, his partner had been going through hell.

He reached the nurses station and in a voice much steadier than his quivering insides should have allowed, asked where he could find Blair Sandburg.  He was directed to  ICU.

Not bothering with the elevators, Jim raced up the stairs, exiting the stairwell into the hallway and nearly colliding with Simon Banks.  A moment of tense surprise stopped them both.  Jim clasped his friend’s arm and in a voice filled with dread, asked the question he had been agonizing over for the past two hours. "Is he alive?"

"Barely.  He’s down here."  With heart pounding, Jim followed Simon down the short corridor into the area housing ICU.  He was led over to the closest room and stopped before a large window.   He could see a doctor and nurse working over a body lying face down on the bed. An assortment of tubes and IV lines were attached to the still form.

Jim glanced at Simon then back at his friend.  "Why is Blair on his stomach?  How badly is he hurt?"

The captain’s deep brown eyes met the frightened blue ones.  "It isn’t good, Jim.  A  whip was used on his back."  Jim’s eyes closed tight in horror at the vision those words brought forth.  Simon hesitated a moment before continuing.  "Right now he’s barely hanging on.  The doctor says that if he can make it through the night they’ll raise his odds to 50/50."

Jim swallowed convulsively.  *Raise his odds to 50/50.  What are they now?*. He could not find the voice to ask the question out loud. Instead he looked back into the ICU room, putting a hand to the glass separating him from his partner. "Tell me what happened, all of it.”

Jim could see the hard time Simon was having telling him the horror story, but he needed to know.   He listened as his captain explained how Blair had been starved, forced to go without water, brutally beaten, then burned and whipped repeatedly.  Jim felt a hand come to rest on his back as Simon finished.  Jim’s forehead joined his hand against the glass barrier.  “Who would do this?  Why?”

"The suspects name is LeRoy Jenkins.  It seems his son was kicked out of the university for low academic performance and substance abuse.  He took his own life a few days later.  Jenkins decided the university was going to pay and since he couldn’t take it on as a whole he turned that hatred against one individual.  Blair just happened to be the one he grabbed…Jim, he never even had his son in a class.  The kid had been in and out of treatment centers for depression and drug abuse. The father has priors for child abuse, brutality, drug use and drunk driving."

Jim stood motionless with his head pressed against the ICU window.  His gut twisted with the sickening knowledge of what Blair had been through. The pain and fear the young man had endured at the hand of Jenkins brought a hatred that was deeper and more gut wrenching than anything he had ever felt before.  He felt Simon squeeze his shoulder firmly. "We have Jenkins cold, Jim.  He’ll go down hard.  Forensics got DNA samples at the cabin that should match samples found at Jenkins’ place.   They found more evidence there as well and the whip he used on Blair was found in the trunk of his car. There’ll be no walking away from this. This case will be so air tight nothing will stop Jenkins from being prosecuted to the max.”

Jim nodded as a thought crossed his mind and he turned to Simon. “Naomi, have you contacted Naomi?”

“I tried.  Blair told me she was going on some special retreat.  Complete isolation and no contact with the outside world for a full month.  I did speak with someone at the contact number Blair had, but was told it would take days to get the message to her and then several more days before she would be able to contact us.  They did say they’d do their best.”  Part of Jim riled at the news.  Once again Naomi had chosen something else over her son.  The anger quickly subsided, however. He knew that this time the cost could be immeasurable and Naomi might never see her son again. At this point he could only pity her.

Jim’s attention was drawn to the doctor as he finished checking one of the machines, gave some instructions to the nurse, and walked toward the door.  He moved to meet him as he exited the room.  The doctor looked at him questioningly and Simon hastened to introduce him.  "Doctor Crawford, this is Detective Jim Ellison.  He’s Blair’s partner and best friend." Jim shook the offered hand.  "Doctor, how is he doing?"

"Not good, Detective.  Wish I had better news for you.  The brutality of the attack coupled with a concussion, blood loss, fever, infection, and lack of food and water have left him extremely weak.  I’m not sure he has the strength, or for that matter the will, to fight his way back.  His body is in deep shock and so far we haven’t been able to counteract it.  He just isn’t responding."

Jim forced down his despair at the doctor’s words.  He knew the man was doing his best but it wasn’t enough. Blair was dying.  That thought itself was too great to bear, much less accept the reality.  Blair Sandburg would not die.  Not if Jim Ellison could help it.  "Doctor Crawford, let me sit with him.  If he’ll respond to anyone it’ll be me.  I know that sounds somewhat egotistical but Blair and I have been partners and friends for over four years now. We’ve learned to depend on each other. He’ll know I’m here." 

Before Jim could say more Simon jumped in.  "Ellison is right doctor. There is an unusually close friendship between them.  If Blair responds to anyone it’ll be Jim.”

There was no hesitation on Crawford’s part. " Mr. Sandburg’s vitals are dropping as we speak.  He’s losing the fight and I’ll use every means at my disposal to keep him alive.  If that means breaking a few rules, so be it.  You have my permission to do anything that you think will help, Detective. I’ll leave orders at the desk so there won’t be any problems.”

That was all Jim needed to hear.  Before the last word had left the doctor’s mouth, he raised a hand in thanks and was through the door of the ICU.  Blair’s head was turned to the left, facing the far wall.  Jim picked up a chair and carried it to that side of the bed and carefully set it close to his friend’s head.  He sat down and gazed at the small, now frail body before him.  His heart constricted at the lines of pain revealed in the unconscious face of the usually lively anthropologist. 

He could see now why his head had been turned the way it was. The left side of his face was badly bruised with a deep cut running from the temple down to the neck and a blackened burn ran along the jaw line.  Blair’s hand was lying beside the pillow; his wrist heavily bandaged.  Jim carefully slipped his fingers under the hand and felt the icy coldness, a sign of the shock the doctor had mentioned. With his other hand he reached up to adjust the covers higher on his friend’s neck.  As he lifted the sheet he saw the sterile dressing covering Blair’s entire back.  His breath caught in his throat.  Disengaging his hand from Blair’s cold fingers, he stood and carefully lifted the sheet all the way.  As he did, Simon walked into the room and stopped on the opposite side of the bed.  Jim slowly raised his eyes to meet Simon’s gaze and saw the pain mirrored in his captain’s eyes.

"Some of those cuts go clear to the bone, Jim.  Jenkins knew what he was doing.  Some of the whip marks were still bleeding when Edwards and Taylor found him.  Others were old enough to become infected.  Jenkins put him through hell"

"Simon," Ellison’s voice was harsh with emotion and anger, "I want to see this guy go down hard.  I want to see him---" Jim’s voice choked off.  Seeing Blair beaten and brutalized in such a heartless manner was ripping his heart into shreds, baring his soul to atrocities he hoped never to witness again.

 Jim clamped down on the pain and reached out a hand to touch his friend, but stopped before his fingers made contact.  His eyes wandered down to the battered side and paused at the circular burns in various places along the ribs.  Jim’s eyes closed as agony ripped through him. He looked again at the damaged wrists and tried to imagine his friend tied down, forced to bear the excruciating pain of the whip ripping through skin and muscle, the burns…  His hand closed into fists until he felt his nails gouging into his palm.  Taking a deep breath, striving for control, he stood quietly for a few heartbeats then slowly opened his eyes and replaced the sheet. He returned to his chair and slid his hand under Blair’s fingers once again.

Jim kept his head down as a tear slowly slid down his face.  He coughed once, quietly seeking control as he tried to ease the constriction in his throat.  He gently placed his hand on Blair’s head.  The hand softly stroked as Jim began to speak to his unconscious partner. "Blair, buddy.  Can you hear me?  Hey, Chief.  I’m here with you now."  Jim continued, "Come on Chief.  The doc tells me that you don’t have the strength to fight your way back. Maybe alone you don’t but I know you.  You’re a fighter.  I’ve never known anyone who has the dogged determination that you do.  I also know us, and  together we can do anything we set our minds to.  I’m here now and you don’t have to fight this on your own. Lean on me.  I’ll be here to help you.  You hear me, buddy?”  No longer aware of Simon’s presence, Jim did not hear the captain leave.  His only thought was of Blair and what he needed.

Jim’s hand moved from Blair’s head and gently folded the cold fingers around his own.  He caressed the unresponsive fingers and knuckles with his thumb as his other hand moved back to the curly head.  "Come on, Chief, let me know you can hear me.  Give me a sign.  Squeeze my fingers, anything....” Jim begged as he tried to coax his best friend to return to him.

He felt a slight movement of the fingers held within his own, so small that he wasn’t even sure they had moved.  Then he noticed a slight twitch of the eyelids.  Slowly the blue eyes opened to half mast and Jim changed his position slightly so he could meet Blair’s unfocused gaze.  "That’s the way, Chief.  I knew you could do it.  I’m here, Blair."  He carefully squeezed the icy fingers and felt the tiniest movement.  There was no change in the facial expression or the glazed eyes.  Jim tightened his grip and continued to rub his thumb back and forth on the still hand.  "Hang on to me, Chief.  I know you hurt and you’re tired, but I’ll help you. You’re not alone.  I’m with you, buddy.  Can you hear me?"

The blue eyes never focused but Blair’s lips moved, the word sentinel soft.  "Jim."

"Yeah, it’s me, Junior.  I’m right here.”

Again there was movement of the lips and the repeated, "Jim?"

Jim squeezed his hand.  "I’m here."

Again so soft only sentinel ears could hear.  "Don’t leave."  A tear ran from the corner of Blair’s eye. Jim tenderly wiped it away and stroked the matted curls.  "I’m not going anywhere, Chief. I’m going to be right here.”

Blair’s eyes slid closed.  Jim continued gently caressing the curls and hand as he  constantly monitored Blair’s vitals.  They were frighteningly low and erratic.  It seemed as though just drawing a breath took all of his strength.  Suddenly Blair’s body seemed to start slightly and his eyes opened.  Jim tightened his grip on his partner’s hand and whispered softly to him.