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Asunder         
by Kikkimax

When the call came, I was already gone. Not in body, but in spirit. Okay, that's not entirely accurate. I felt as if my spirit had already died, gone away, torn itself asunder from my body. Each day is an agonizing exercise in futility. The dissertation fiasco was only the end of a long, slow decline in our friendship. I had lost Jim's trust somewhere along the way. Had I ever really had it? There was a time when I would have given a resolute, absolute, undeniable yes. Now, I'm not so sure.

Now I feel only the bristle of my Sentinel each morning as we pass silently in the kitchen. Jim preparing for another dull day of desk duty, and me off for a grueling day of scorn and abuse at the academy. This I would have endured gladly, selflessly even, if I knew I had something to come home to. Anything. Arguments, anger, or even blame. Those I can work with. They give me somewhere to go, a direction. Instead, I come home to an uncommunicative, detached roommate who acts like he isn't even aware of my presence, or worse, like I'm in the way. Trespassing in the only real home I've ever known. Sentinel and Guide torn asunder, neither whole in the wake of life's latest melodrama.

If Jim cared even a little, I would have done anything. I had done everything I could. I cut my hair, I march off everyday to learn what I need to know to be a proper partner for a police detective, and I traded my soul for a gun. That was the hard part. My hair would return, but would my soul? I'm not so sure it really has anything to do with the gun, but I had to blame the emptiness inside me on something, and the cold steel handled the guilt pretty well. I didn't want to face that I had given up every part of myself for the man who wouldn't look me in the eye at breakfast.

It finally dawned on me that maybe when Simon had made the offer of a badge that Jim had gone along with it because he thought I would never accept it, that I would never cave to the unreasonable demand that I become a cop. Okay, okay, it hadn't been unreasonable, or a demand for that matter. It wasn't Simon's fault that I felt pressured, like I had no other options if I wanted to stay with Jim. If I wanted things to stay the same. Jim must have realized that his Guide had sold out and that's why he lost all respect for me. The day I came home with my hair cut, all meaningful communication suddenly stopped. Jim had stood and stared in horror before he grabbed his coat and left. When he returned hours later, he had silently climbed the stairs and gone to bed.

Most of the instructors at the academy, and truth be told, a good number of the students, had tried to make things difficult for me in the beginning. It wasn't anything new, I'd gone through the same song and dance as a kid more times than I care to remember. The instructors didn't want me there any more than I wanted to be there. A match made in hell. They tried to force me to think inside of the box, make me into a carbon copy of all the other doe eyed recruits. But I wasn't like them, had never been like them, even as a green horn grad student. And now that I had almost four years of police experience, sans hand to hand combat and weapons training, I was even less like them. I stuck to my guns, so to speak, and slowly but surely, I won them over. Most belatedly realized that the things that made me different were the things that would make me good at the job. The academy wasn't really the problem anymore.

The real issue was at home. After six weeks of frustration and stubborn insistence that things would get back to normal as soon as I graduated, I grew weary of hitting the brick wall named Ellison. Day after day his cool indifference grew until the gulf between us seemed insurmountable. When I finally admitted to myself that I had lost Jim, there was no point in continuing the police academy charade.

"I can't do this any more, Jim," Blair whispered, breaking the now usual silence as he finished his breakfast.

For the first time in weeks Jim looked at his partner, really saw at him. His expression was blank, but there was moisture in his eyes. "Then don't," Jim answered softly, trying to put all he felt into those two little words, knowing Blair could read him. He rose to his feet and patted Blair on the arm in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, but it felt contrived as they had gone so long without physical contact. As he made his way to the door, he stopped to look back. He almost smiled. And then he was gone.

Blair almost smiled himself at the overwhelming and unexpected relief. Jim didn't want him around anymore. He had finally come right out and said it. Now, Blair could let go of the one reason that he still stayed; Jim needed him. It wouldn't be easy to let go. It would still hurt, but the loss of the friendship had been worse. Much, much worse. After all the silence and doubt, both of them uselessly hanging on to whatever shred of connection they had left, Jim had finally given him permission to give up. So he did.

Jim had said all along that he didn't need anybody. Not in so many words, but it was always there, just under the surface. All Blair had to do was let himself believe it, let himself off the hook. Jim didn't want his senses anymore, in fact, hadn't used them at all according to Simon, since he had been stuck at his desk. No need, really. Not much use for hyper senses while typing. And he didn't need someone to watch his back either. Not much could go wrong if he zoned at the desk. His coffee could get cold, but that was a risk they'd have to take. Jim had expressed more than once the desire to go back to the way things were before.

A Sentinel will always be a Sentinel, as long as he chooses to be. Incacha said that once. Maybe Jim could shut them off, if he chose not to be. But even if he couldn't, if he just didn't use them on the job, he'd be okay. He didn't need a Guide anymore anyway since he had come so far, and Megan could look after him at work as well as Blair could. Blair knew deep inside that he was deluding himself, but he had nothing left to fight with.

Blair made his way to the commandant's office in a daze, knowing it was well and truly over. The expense in time and soul wasn't worth it if Jim wanted him gone. He didn't regret the sacrifice of his career, his Ph.D., or his reputation. He had screwed up, and had tried to fix it in the easiest, quietest way that he could. That much he owed Jim, but the academy was different. He never wanted to be a cop per se. He only wanted desperately to be Jim's partner. So desperately that he hadn't taken the time to consider any other options. He'd already burned his academic bridges, and now he lit the match to torch his law enforcement ones. Oh, well. Maybe it was for the best. This way, he wouldn't have any handy excuses to try and return someday.

"Sandburg, I thought I told you to get a haircut," Commandant Smithers said, not without affection as Blair tapped lightly on the open door. "I can't believe it's already past your collar."

"Grows fast, sir" Blair murmured as he sat in the chair Smithers gestured absently to as he returned his attention to the stack of papers on his desk.

"I was looking at your file yesterday. Your grades are impressive, even if you do have a tendency to argue with your instructors," the older man teased, trying to take the edge off. Sandburg's posture radiated tension. "You're not happy here, are you Blair?" he asked with concern.

"I'm not going to finish," Blair said quietly as he absently fingered the hair that tickled his neck.

"What? Why not? You only have two weeks left, you can't quit now. As it is, you'll graduate at the top of your class, grade wise anyway. Some of your papers are brilliant."

"I'm pretty good at class work, Commandant. I've done this kind of stuff for a long time," Blair offered with a slightly amused glance up from the floor where he'd kept his eyes so far.

"I guess you have," Smithers conceded. "You're not far from the top in anything. Not even marksmanship, which I understand you balked at in the beginning. Tell me why you would quit now. Is someone giving you a hard time?"

Blair shook his head and returned his gaze to the floor.

"Sandburg, tough it out two more weeks. Don't let the bullshit force you out. I know you'll be a detective as soon as you walk out of here. Other people know that, too. Small people resent that kind of thing."

"That's not it," Blair sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"What is it then?" Smithers urged. "Make me understand."

"I don't want to be a cop," Blair said as he raised his head and made eye contact. As soon as he said it, he began to feel better. And the truth shall set you free...

Smithers studied him for several minutes. "I see," he said. "Shame. You'd have made a damn fine detective."

"Thank you, sir." Blair stood and offered his hand.

Smithers shook it grimly. "If you change your mind, I'll recommend that we reinstate you. What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know," Blair answered honestly. "But I think I'll do it as far away from Cascade as I can."

I admit that I had been acting like an ass for quite some time, but I can't put my finger on exactly when I started treating Sandburg like this whole Sentinel thing was his fault. And I did feel like it was his fault, in my heart, but my head knew how much I relied on him. When my head finally accepted how much I needed him, my heart rebelled. It was just too hard to take someone into my heart so completely. It was too scary to need someone, even Blair. Every time I wanted to walk away from my senses, he was there; nagging, harassing, begging for heaven's sake. Pleading with me not to throw away my gift. I was starting to feel like I had no choices, he made them all for me. He was the Guide, and though I doubt that he even knew it, he was in charge. I hated that. It was too hard for me to follow.

Then he died. That was the kicker. I really lost it then. Could have had something to do with the out of control hormones that bitch set off in me, but not as much as you might think. It was mostly the sheer, unadulterated panic and shame that losing Blair cost me. I couldn't go through that again in a million years. Why had I let him get so close? I knew right then and there that if he had stayed dead, I'd have gone right along with him. He'd become more than a friend, he'd become a part of me that I couldn't do without. It was cold inside when he wasn't around. Just like it used to be, before. I said I wanted things to go back to the way it was before my senses came back on line, but that wasn't entirely the truth. I wanted things to go back to the way they were before Sandburg tunneled his way under my defenses, under the wall around my heart. Because now I was vulnerable, and that was unacceptable to me. So I began to push him away even harder. Emotionally. But I also held on tight, because God help me, I still needed him. Not as a Guide, but as a friend. I just didn't act like a friend in return, so as it turned out, I lost him as both.

When we found out that his dissertation had been prematurely leaked, that was my big chance. I'm not stupid; I am still a police detective. I realize now, hell, I realized it then, that Blair had no control over the situation. But my anger got the better of me and I took it out on the handiest target, as always. Much to my surprise, he turned the tables on me. Got up in front of TV cameras and told the world that he was a liar. If there's one thing that Blair Sandburg is, in spite of all his proclamations of obfuscations, it's honest. Deep down, he's the most doggedly honest person that I know. Another point against him, because he makes me look at myself, my motivations, when I don't want to. Just another way that he's in charge.

At first, I didn't realize exactly what he had given up for me. How could I scream about trust when he took his academic career and shook it out over the waste can to protect me. He did it freely of his own will. I know that. So how come I felt so damned responsible. The whole fucking thing was no more my fault than it was his, but I felt guilty. Then Simon had the bright idea to give him a badge, but the police commissioner shot that down immediately. We had to go to him secretly and provide a demonstration of my abilities, and explain exactly why we needed to keep a lid on this thing. He was smitten, acted like a kid on Christmas morning who got way more than he asked for. He agreed to anything we wanted, but insisted the kid go to the academy for proprieties sake. He also stuck me on desk duty until Blair could complete his training, but I figured it wouldn't kill me. It was only for two months. If Blair agreed to the deal. Of course he would agree. That's what he always wanted. Right?

Sandburg had seemed okay with the idea. Not thrilled, but okay. I was thrilled. If Blair were my partner for real, I would be senior detective, putting me firmly in the driver's seat. Yeah, it could work out, I told myself. It was okay to feel that way about your partner, like you depended on him. Like you had to protect him, watch his back. Just like I'd been doing for almost four years. I was delusional to think that the badge would make any difference. Then he started coming home with bruises that first week. Not hand to hand bruises. Blanket party bruises. I pretended not to see them, because he didn't want me to. The second week, he came home with a haircut. That one killed me. It was proof positive that he had pushed his own life aside to become what he thought I wanted him to be. I stood and stared at him. Saw him for the first time in a long, long time. The resignation in his voice, the defeat in his posture. I had to leave, get away to think, so I walked out on him without a word. My guilt started to eat me up from the inside out. I couldn't talk to him. I couldn't look at him. I shut him out. My God, what have I done?

When he told me that he couldn't do this anymore, my first thought was that he was going to quit the academy. I was thrilled. Again. Yeah, I know. Go figure. I knew now that that was not what he wanted. If it made him so unhappy, then it was the wrong thing to do. We'd find a way to make it better, without forcing him to lose who he was. On my way to work it hit me that maybe that's not what he'd been talking about. Maybe he was talking about us. I pushed that thought away. Blair has been through so much, but he knows deep down that we are a team. Inseparable. Like the Lone Ranger and Tonto. Lenny and Squiggy. Batman and Robin. He knows that. I hope he knows that. Maybe I should have said it.

Jim lifted his head as someone came to stand in front of his desk. "Hey, Chief," he said after a startled couple of seconds. When had Blair ever been able to sneak up on him? He had his senses turned way down, sure. But he had always known when Blair was around, even when he wasn't expecting him. What had changed? "You quit," Jim added quietly, looking at the clock, knowing Blair should be in class now.

"Yeah," Blair breathed, looking around nervously. "I came to tell Simon."

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Jim offered in the same hushed tone.

"No. That's okay," Blair said with a ghost of a smile. "I can do it." He turned and started to walk away.

"Chief?" Jim called out after him.

Blair turned and looked back with a questioning glance.

"When I get home, we can talk about it," Jim said.

"You want to talk now?" Blair asked incredulously. He laughed a heartless laugh that sounded so wrong coming from him, then turned without another word and headed to Captain Bank's office. He tapped on the door and opened it after a gruff "Come in" sounded from inside. As he stepped in and closed the door Jim sat in stunned silence. Since when did Sandburg not want to talk?

The phone was ringing as Blair put his key in the lock. By the time he got all the way inside the answering machine had started it's message. He picked up the hand set just after the beep. "Hello, I'm here," he said breathlessly.

"Blair Sandburg?" a familiar voice that he couldn't quite place asked excitedly.

"Listen, if you're with the press, I'm not giving any interviews," Blair said tersely.

"Blair, it's me. Eli Stoddard. I need your help."

"Dr. Stoddard?"

"Yes, yes, boy," the man rattled out impatiently. "I need you to come to Belize. Right away. I need your help. I found something."

"Um, Dr. Stoddard, I guess you didn't hear. I'm not with the University any more," Blair managed, shame coloring his voice as he prepared himself to lie to his mentor and destroy yet another bond that he held dear.

"For heaven's sake, Blair, I know all about that. Good news travels fast and bad news travels even faster. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you before now. Forgive me."

"Forgive you?" Blair asked in confusion. "I faked my dissertation, Dr. Stoddard. I lied."

"I don't believe that for a second. We can discuss it further when you get here. Promise me you'll come."

"I could probably recommend someone..."

"NO! I need you!" the older man all but screamed over the line. "You must come. I've done so much for you over the years. How can you deny me this?"

"That's not fair, sir," Blair whispered. It was true. He owed the man so much.

"I don't care about fair right now. This is important. I'll make it up to you when you get here. I've already made your arrangements. You need to pick up your tickets at my office today. You leave tonight. Don't let me down, Blair. No one can do this but you."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say 'I'll see you when I get there'," Stoddard insisted.

"I'll see you when I get there," Blair muttered as Stoddard abruptly disconnected the call.

Blair stared at the phone for a minute as he tried to think of one good reason not to go. All of the usual reasons were null and void, so he moved to his room to pack, already making a mental list of what he would need, a tiny seed of excitement growing in his gut. Packing was accomplished quickly, as he'd have to travel light; a duffle, a backpack, and his book bag. He made half a dozen phone calls to take care of his stuff and his car. After a quick trip to pick up his tickets from Dr. Stoddard's secretary and a few other odds and ends that he'd need in the jungle, he showered, then lay down to catch a quick nap before Jim got home. He felt a little jumpy, but put it down to nerves. It didn't stop him from dropping off to sleep, though. A tired, dead to the world, dreamless sleep. A lot like his life had been lately.

Jim realized that his roommate was asleep as soon as he opened the front door. Oh, shit. He also realized that Blair's bags were packed, it was kind of hard to miss them as they sat next to the couch in the livingroom. Not exactly like Blair was trying to hide them or anything. Jim slipped quietly through the French doors, ready to confront his Guide, but was taken aback by the still, huddled form asleep on the bed. How could a thirty year old man look so young and innocent in his sleep? His hair was already growing back, the mid-length somehow enhancing the image of juvenescence. Jim reached out and carefully swept the shorter, yet still wayward curls away from the closed eyes. He longed for the closeness they had once felt, and took the blame for where they were now. When he reached again to stroke Blair's cheek, the sleeping man startled.

"Oh, man. You scared me," Blair said, pulling away under the ruse of rubbing his eyes. "I need to talk to you," he added as he sat up and adjusted himself so that his back rested against the wall.

"Were you going to tell me before you left? Or just leave a note?" Jim asked quietly, no reproach in his tone.

"I was going to talk to you, Jim. I wouldn't leave without saying good-bye."

"So you really are leaving. Are you coming back?"

Blair swallowed and rubbed his eyes again, hating that he wasn't more alert. "Do you want me to?" he asked softly.

"Of course I do. This is your home, too," Jim assured. "If you feel like it isn't, then I guess that's my fault."

"No, Jim. You've always been very generous letting me stay here. I just think that you need your space now. I don't think we'll get past this if we live together right now."

"Get past what exactly?" Jim asked, ready to address the problems he had so stubbornly avoided. He had to. Push was rapidly coming to shove. They should have already had this conversation, a long time ago.

"Oh come on, Jim," Blair said irritably. "We've got some major trust issues to work out."

"I trust you," Jim insisted.

"Like hell you do," Blair protested, more vehemently than he had intended.

"I screwed up," Jim confessed. "That doesn't mean we should just give up. You don't have to go back to the academy if you don't want to...."

"That's not it, Jim. I want to be your partner, I really do. I want that more than anything. I just don't think I can take it one more time; you telling me how I've betrayed you."

"It's not going to happen again, Chief."

"I've got to admit that somewhere in the last four years I feel like I have earned your trust," Blair continued, finally able to have his say. "If not your trust, then at least the benefit of the doubt. Haven't I?"

"Of course you have. It's not you, it's me," Jim insisted. "I know I'm a self-centered bastard sometimes, but I never wanted you to leave."

"That's not true," Blair said and got to his feet.

"I'm not a self-centered bastard?"

"No, you are. The other part. You did want me to leave," Blair said bitterly. "But instead of telling me to go, you just slowly poisoned our relationship until I didn't have any choice but to go." Blair grabbed his pants and pointedly ignored his roommate as he put them on. "I forgive you, but I need to go. Don't let me keep you."

Jim refused to be dismissed and stood his ground, although he couldn't refute the harsh words. Truth hurt. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of anything wise, or even relevant to say either, so he just stood in the door and watched as Blair got dressed.

Unnerved by the silence, Blair began to speak softly as he gathered up a few more things and put them into his book bag. "I don't have time to pack everything right now. I called a moving company to pick up my stuff and store it for me. They're coming on Saturday. You'll probably need to be here so they don't take any of your stuff by accident."

"What's the rush?" Jim asked letting himself slip back into his standoffish posturing. He had to protect himself. Couldn't seem to show Blair his weakness.

"My flight leaves tonight. I'm going to Belize to help Dr. Stoddard."

"Help him do what?" Jim asked as he crossed his arms over his chest, going for curious, coming off as defensive.

Blair shrugged one shoulder, refusing to look at his soon to be ex-roommate. "I don't know exactly. I'll find out when I get there."

"So that's why you quit. It makes sense now. Why'd you wait until the last minute to tell me?" Jim felt like an ass, but his gut told him to fight. It was now or never. Push Blair's buttons and he'd open up, Jim was sure of it.

Blair snorted in disgust. "Benefit of the doubt, Jim. I'm out of here."

"Wait," Jim said and placed himself in the middle of the doorway. "How long will you be gone? What about the Sentinel stuff?" he asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

"Nice try," Blair said with disdain. "I'm through fighting about this. Turn it off. You don't want it anymore than you want me. So turn it off. I think you can if that's what you really want to do, but I'm not going to help you do it. You'll have to figure it out for yourself."

"Why can't we talk about this?" Jim insisted.

"Let it go, man," Blair sighed as he brushed past Jim. He gathered his bags in silence and walked out the door.

After waiting a few minutes in stunned silence, Jim listened for the Volvo to start, but found that he couldn't hear it. Turn it off? Blair said turn it off? This was worse than he thought. It really was over. Without his Guide, he had no desire to be a Sentinel. Could it be that easy? He moved to the window and looked out over his city. His tribe. Could he let them go as well? He didn't know. As he moved through the kitchen he noticed the key to the loft lying on the counter. Apparently Blair really wasn't coming back.

"Okay, Ellison, this is what you said you wanted," Jim chastised himself as he prepared a sandwich and took a long pull off his second beer. Sandburg was out of his hair once and for all. And as an added bonus, he couldn't seem to make any of his senses work. Not the way he used to. Not the way they were supposed to. Shit. Where did that thought come from? Now they worked like everyone else's. He wasn't different anymore. No longer a freak. Yeah. This was good. It was. He should be happy. After a while, he'd probably get used to eating cold sandwiches alone while standing at the sink. Sure he would. It was quiet, too. Really, really quiet. He'd get used to it. After all, Sandburg had been around for a long time. Amazing what a person could get used to. Why did he feel so bad?

After finishing his dinner, such as it was, he found himself in Blair's room picking up and examining first one thing and then another, flicking through memories like a photo album. Blair's laughter, his eyes all bright and mischievous, my little guppy... ouch. Don't go there, Ellison. Harden your heart. Just don't feel it, it'll go away. Everything he touched seemed to have a story behind it. A story of their life together. Sandburg hadn't had a lot after his warehouse had been blown up. Now the room was filled with all sorts of curious, eclectic things, all of which screamed 'Sandburg'.

With a sudden sense of panic, Jim realized that he could no longer pick up the scent that he associated with his Guide. He grabbed the pillow from the bed and shoved it into his face, breathing deeply, searching for the smell. There. Maybe. It was faint, and a sinking feeling inside told him it would only get fainter with time.

He left the room, still clutching the pillow to his chest, thinking that Blair had abandoned him. He dropped the police academy for one more shot at being an anthropologist. That's it, be angry. Anger was much better than hurt. He refused to be hurt. Hurt was too much like being a victim. But he found that he couldn't be angry at the seeming betrayal. It was as much his fault as Blair's. If he had been a little stronger, or had let himself be a little more human, Blair would have stayed. He knew that as well as he knew his own name. It looked like he was stuck with hurt.

Although he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, he moved to the stairs like a robot. He noticed the answering machine was blinking so he hit the message button as he went. Not that he really cared to hear the message.

"Blair Sandburg?" An older man's voice.

Blair's voice stopped him cold. "Listen, if you're with the press, I'm not giving any interviews."

"Blair, it's me. Eli Stoddard. I need your help."

"Dr. Stoddard?"

"Yes, yes, boy. I need you to come to Belize. Right away. I need your help. I found something."

"Um, Dr. Stoddard, I guess you didn't hear. I'm not with the University anymore..."

"For heaven's sake, Blair, I know all about that. Good news travels fast and bad news travels even faster. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to talk to you before now. Forgive me."

"Forgive you?" a few seconds of silence. "I faked my dissertation, Dr. Stoddard. I lied."
Blair's voice broke on the last line and Jim felt ashamed as he listened to Blair telling someone whose opinion really mattered to him that he was a fraud. The machine clicked off right at that moment, the message out of time. No wonder Blair had to go. Somebody still believed in him. And Blair needed that. He deserved that. He just didn't realize that Jim believed in him, too. How could he? Jim assumed he knew, and kept it to himself. He couldn't begrudge Blair for that. He whispered a little benediction, and wished the best for his friend as he climbed the stairs, suddenly feeling like an old man. A very foolish old man.

Blair felt like he'd been traveling forever. As much as he wanted to sleep, he was awake for every minute of every hour of the flight, bus ride, mule train, and long hike deep into the jungle to Dr. Stoddard's encampment. At his connecting flight in Dallas, he had almost turned around and flown back to Cascade. Jim had finally broken his long spell of silence and was ready to talk, but Blair had walked away from him. When he realized that talking wasn't going to solve anything this time, it had gone too far for words, he went ahead and boarded his flight to Mexico City. He berated himself for being such a wuss. Jim didn't want him around. Why couldn't he get that through his head? Because he still wanted to be around, that's why. Nothing sadder than outstaying your welcome.

His instincts were to push the Sentinel, but the Sentinel was tired of being pushed. He wondered why he couldn't leave it alone, why he needed so badly for Jim to understand and accept what he was. It wasn't for his dissertation, he was sure. The paper had been good, he knew that in spite of what he had told Naomi. No, it was deeper than that. More primal. He quickly dismissed the notion that maybe that's what he was supposed to do. Maybe a Guide was as unique as a Sentinel. Maybe... naw. He was just pushy. And Jim was tired of it.

As his jungle guide stopped and pointed down from the rise where they stood, Blair smiled for the first time in days.

Dr. Stoddard whooped out loud when he saw them and began a hasty climb towards them. "Blair! You're here!" he shouted breathlessly.

Blair started down, and met him on the trail. "Come on! Come on!" Eli said after a brief, but crushing hug. "We have so much to talk about."

"Why did you bring me here?" Blair couldn't help but ask.

Stoddard grinned ear to ear. "You'll figure it out. I have faith in you." With that, he pulled Blair into the camp where several students crowded around to welcome him. There wasn't a sign of disparity or disapproval. They all wore the cat-ate-the-canary grin that Eli did. And they were all happy to see him. He'd have to get used to that.

Simon sighed and reached deep within himself to find the last little reserve of patience that he had as Mount Ellison went off yet again. He rubbed his eyes and got up to open his office door in time to see Connor storm out of the bullpen. "Oh, Jim? Could I see you in my office?" Banks drawled sweetly as Jim threw himself into a chair and glared at him. "Now, please." I am calm. I am calm.

Jim sighed dramatically and spared another glare to anyone dumb enough to look at him as he sauntered into the Captain's inner sanctum. "Sir?" he asked with a grumble as he leaned against the conference table and crossed his arms over his chest.

Simon rolled a cigar between his fingers and studied the irate man, keeping his own face a blank mask. "How long has Sandburg been gone?" he asked, forcing his voice to sound casual.

Jim's frown deepened. "I don't know," he lied. "Why?"

"Four weeks?" Simon asked innocently, knowing full well exactly how long the observer had been gone. He missed the kid, sure, not that he'd ever admit it, but Ellison had been a caveman ever since he left.

"Five weeks, two days," Jim corrected in spite of himself. "Shit," he mumbled and took a seat at the table.

"But this doesn't really affect you, does it?" Simon prodded.

"No, it doesn't."

"You don't even care. Do you?"

Simon's answer came as a jaw-clenching glare.

"You haven't even thought about where he is or what he's doing. Have you?" Simon pressed ruthlessly. "If he's safe..."

"He walked out on me, Simon. What do you want me to say?" Jim asked gruffly, feeling more than a little persecuted being questioned about his Guide. Correction. His former Guide. He dropped his gaze to the table and began to push a paperclip around with his finger.

"Yeah, you're right. That selfish little son-of-a-bitch walked out on you for no good reason," Simon agreed affably, hiding a smirk behind the cigar as he slid it into his mouth.

Jim raised his head and stared with icy blue eyes. "We both know I pushed him away," he said coldly.

"That's right. You did. But it's still okay to grieve, now that he's gone. Don't deny yourself that."

"What?" Jim snapped. "What makes you think I'm grieving?"

"I used to be a pretty good detective once upon a time. I'm still pretty damned observant, and I've been watching you go through the stages of grief in the last five weeks, two days," Simon supplied easily.

"Don't give me any of that new age crap, Simon. You sound like Sand...burg. Christ." Jim dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

"I do sound like Sandburg. You know why? Because when my marriage was finally over and I didn't know what to do or how to act, he came to me, butted right in as a matter of fact, and carefully explained to me the way people grieve. He let me know it was okay. Said it's the same all over the world. I didn't want to hear it. Hell, I didn't even like him much back then, but he made sense."

Simon paused to see if he was getting through, but Jim just stared at his hands, forcing Simon to go on. "The stages are denial, guilt, depression, anger, and acceptance, in no particular order. And I've watched you go through everything but acceptance in these last few weeks. Guilt is a constant, and anger just keeps popping back in. I think we need to get past that one while you still have a job."

Jim jerked his head back up. "That bad?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so, Jim. If I get one more complaint, I'll have no choice but to put you on suspension until you get yourself under control," Simon threatened softly, regretting the need, but knowing no other way to get the stubborn detective's attention.

"This is what I thought I wanted," Jim admitted quietly.

"I know, Jim."

"It's like I'm missing a part of myself. Like losing a limb or something."

"Sandburg's not dumb, Jim. Maybe he's just teaching you a lesson. 'Be careful what you wish for, you may get it.' That kind of thing," Simon offered hopefully. "I'm sure he'll come back once he cools down a little."

"I don't know, Simon. Sometimes I treat him pretty bad."

"He's always forgiven you before. You don't have much faith in him."

"That's not true, Simon. I have all the faith in the world in Blair. I just don't have any faith in myself," Jim confessed reluctantly. "What if that's just the way I am and I can't help myself?"

"You can change. You just have to be aware of it, and work at it. So ask for his forgiveness, turn your senses back on, and let's get back to what passes for normal around here," Simon urged. "I talked to Commandant Smithers at the academy. He's more than willing to let Sandburg pick up where he left off in the next class."

"No!" Jim said forcefully. "Blair didn't want that. He was just trying to make us happy, make me happy. There's got to be another way."

"Okay," Simon said thoughtfully, laying the unlit cigar on his desk. "I'll work on that. Why don't you try and get in touch with him?"

"I've tried," Jim acknowledged sheepishly. "There's no way to communicate with them right now, short of showing up at the research site. They're coming back next week though. I found that out from a friend of Blair's at Rainier."

"How will you find him when he gets back? His stuff is in storage somewhere, right?"

"Yeah, it's stored in his bedroom," Jim muttered, finding the paperclip fascinating all of a sudden.

"I thought you said he arranged to have it picked up by a moving company," Simon accused with a raised eyebrow.

Jim grimaced. "Well, I, uh, couldn't let them take it. I told the movers they had the wrong address when they came. His stuff is still in his room where it belongs."

Simon nodded. "I see. And his car? Not still at the airport?"

"I had it impounded," Jim confessed with a little cough. "They're supposed to call me if he comes to pick it up. Besides, it'll save him parking fees."

"Jim..." Simon warned.

"I couldn't take the chance that I might miss him, Sir. I had to take drastic measures. We belong together. I just have to make him see that. There's something spiritual to this Sentinel thing that involves Blair. I wasn't willing to accept it before, but I'm ready now."

"Aw, Jim," Simon moaned. "This is getting into that area that I don't want to know about."

Detective Ellison continued to badger the various airlines, and was assured once again that he would be notified if and when Blair Sandburg was on the passenger list of any incoming flight. They must have wondered what kind of hard-core, down and dirty criminal Blair was to deserve such diligent attention from the cop. Day after day. A few of the airport employee's voices were becoming familiar, and most knew Jim by name now.

He hung up the phone and dejectedly wondered what to have for dinner. Nothing sounded appetizing, so he opted for a beer, hoping to feel like eating something later. As he moved through the kitchen there was a knock at the door. He froze in place for a second, wishing not for the first time that he could hear or a least smell who it was standing in the hall. Waiting. Oh, yeah. Moving to the door, he schooled his features so that he wouldn't show excitement. Or disappointment. Blair should be home by now, no matter what those stinking airlines had to say.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by a dusty, unhappy looking older man and a couple of younger men who carried Blair's bags.

"What is this?" Jim asked anxiously without preamble.

"Just put them down here," the man instructed the college boys. "I'll be down in a minute." The two did as they were told with apologetic smiles and wandered back to the elevator. When the doors closed on them the man turned back to Jim with an 'hmph'. "So you're the Sentinel," he said with apparent disgust.

"Huh?" Jim asked intelligently, trying not to get pissed off. "I can't believe he told you. I take it you are Dr. Stoddard?"

"Blair told me nothing. In fact, he insisted on continuing the pretense long after a sensible man would have given up. He's quite stubborn."

"Quite," Jim agreed stonily. "Where is he?" he asked, his throat suddenly dry.

"Belize."

"But the field trip is over, right?"

"Field trip?" Stoddard asked indignantly.

"Whatever. Everyone else came home? Where's Blair? Is he okay?"

"Calm down, detective. He's fine. He elected to stay on and continue another avenue of research. He's gone into the jungle with a tribe to live with them."

"He's gone to ground?"

"I assume by your military slang that you think he's gone into hiding. No, it might be more accurate to say he's 'gone native'," Stoddard explained.

"Why?"

"Research," Stoddard said brightly. "I went to put his things in his storage area as he directed me to do. Imagine my surprise that he didn't have one. The only other thing I could think to do was to bring them here. Unless you don't want to bother? I suppose I could find a place in my office somewhere..."

"No, I'll keep them for him. It's no bother," Jim assured, feeling all along like he was being not so subtly manipulated.

"I see," Stoddard said with a knowing look. He unzipped one of the bags and pulled out a camcorder, deftly he removed the tape and held one item in each hand. "I'm sure you would never dream of invading Blair's privacy by watching his research tapes," he said as he handed both objects to Jim.

"No, I wouldn't," Jim declared as he examined the tape.

"Too bad. This one's a throw away. Nothing useful in terms of research. But you might find it interesting. Good day, Sentinel." As Stoddard turned to go Jim caught him by the arm.

"What are you going to do with this information?" Jim gestured to himself.

"You don't even deny it now?" Stoddard asked.

"It's irrelevant now."

"Good," Stoddard said. "Because I'm going to do what Blair won't."

"What?" Jim asked gruffly.

"I'm going to fight for him." The doctor extricated himself from Jim's grasp and moved to the elevator.

"How can I help?" Jim asked hesitantly, still standing in the door.

Stoddard turned back with startled pleasure. He moved back down the hall and offered a business card. "Call me."

"Thanks," Jim said and gathered the bags to take them into Blair's room.

As he stepped into the elevator, Stoddard turned around one more time. "Do you even know what you lost?" he asked, keeping the door open with one hand.

"Yes," Jim answered softly.

Stoddard nodded and smiled. "Good," he said again. "Then maybe we can fix this."

Jim stalled as long as he could. Stoddard had called the tape private. But he had also insinuated that Jim should watch it. After a couple more minutes of hesitation, Jim decided that Blair wouldn't really mind. Blair had never tried to hide anything about his research from Jim, although Jim had accused him, unjustly, of doing exactly that. Of course, whatever was on the tape didn't have anything to do with Jim, so he did feel like he was prying. After guiltily rummaging around in Blair's room, at last he found the camcorder adapter that fit into the VCR. Slipping the tape into it, he turned everything on and slid the whole thing into the slot.

"Go on," the scratchy voice that Jim recognized as Stoddard's urged as the camera focused on a group of young men sitting around in a hut. Some wore shorts and tee shirts, others a more primitive native dress of loincloths and body paint. Several in each form of clothing had noticeable body piercings. They appeared to all belong to the same tribe, or at least to be from neighboring tribes that were friendly to each other.

Blair slowly entered the scene in jeans, a long sleeve shirt, hiking boots, and a boonie hat, looking for all the world like an anthropologist. His hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and Jim was slightly surprised it was long enough. Blair smiled at the boys, but his body language was rigid and he looked anything but relaxed. Looking towards the camera, he said softly, "I don't know what you want me to do."

"Make friends, my boy," Stoddard encouraged.

"This might be easier if you'd just tell me what's going on," Blair argued, keeping the forced smile in place for his now attentive and very curious audience.

"It has to be this way," came the slightly amused answer.

"Okay," Blair said dubiously. "Hi, how ya doin'?" he continued, focusing on the group that now surrounded him. He let them take his hat, and smiled a little more naturally as his hair was released from its band and examined. "Anyone speak English?" There was laughter all around as hands continued to explore his hair and clothing, everything in his pockets being found and passed around the group. Jim sat transfixed as he watched Blair's face. He knew the second that his friend slipped into scientist mode. The transformation was apparent as a Blair noted a tall, lanky youth that kept to the edge of the group. "Hi, I'm Blair," Sandburg said directly to the boy as he pointed to his own chest. The boy responded with a shy smile.

Jim forgot all about dinner as he watched Blair get acquainted with the boy. It wasn't easy, as this one wore the native dress and spoke not a word of English. Soon the tape switched scenes. Blair was outside with the one particular teenager and they sat side by side next to a tree. Jim didn't know how much time had lapsed since the first scene, but he swore Blair's hair was longer, and now he conversed haltingly with the kid in a language that Jim didn't recognize. It must have been a couple of weeks later. Blair was in a pair of shorts and a tee shirt now, and there were feathers woven into his hair. Apparently he was much more comfortable in his surroundings. He made notes, apparently unaware that they were being taped. The kid's head suddenly snapped up and Blair's grin grew as he watched the boy tumble to his feet and run into the jungle.

"Unbelievable," Blair whispered as he finished his notes and jumped up to follow.

The view changed again. This time it was night and the whole village seemed to be having a wild party. Blair sat next to the boy at a bonfire, but Blair's attention was on Stoddard who sat on his other side. Obviously someone else was operating the camera. There was so much chanting and singing that as they spoke Jim could pick out only a few words as Blair explained something to his teacher. Wishing for better hearing, Jim struggled to read Blair's lips. Ceremony, bonding, forever...

The next scene was short, and to the uninitiated, unimportant. Jim froze. He watched it and then rewound the tape to the beginning of the scene, pausing for a second to get his bearings before he watched it again. Blair's appearance and actions spoke volumes as he rubbed the young man's back and spoke softly to him, too low for the camera to pick up his words. Recognition burned a hole in the pit of Jim's stomach. Blair no longer in scientist mode, he was in full-on Guide mode now.

Stoddard had found another Sentinel. It made sense now. That's why only Blair could help him. But why all the secrets? Why not come out and tell Blair why he needed him to come to Belize? And why not stick around himself after finding such a treasure. Surely there was notoriety to be had in finding a modern day Sentinel. Suddenly Jim felt a debt of gratitude to the grumpy old anthropologist. Stoddard wanted to be able to say that Blair had discovered the Sentinel. So he never spoke the words. All he had had to do was bring Sandburg into proximity of the young Sentinel and stand back. Of course Blair didn't let him down. So now Blair was running around the jungle in Belize, once again a Guide, but to a new Sentinel. Jim thought he might cry. But from loss or joy, he wasn't sure. At least one of them was happy. And if anyone deserved it, it was Blair.

As the scene shifted one last time, other students were gathering their belongings as the camp was being broken down. The camera stayed on the other people, but recorded the conversation behind it. "Are you sure you'll be all right?" Stoddard's voice asked, a tinge of concern in the tone.

"I'll be fine," Blair answered. "Listen, if you see Jim," he started and then stopped. "Never mind. Thanks, Eli."

"For what?" Stoddard asked guilelessly.

"Yeah, right," Blair laughed.

There was movement behind the camera, rustling of clothing, perhaps a hug? Then someone picked it up and it followed Blair's movement to the edge of the jungle. The young Sentinel, along with several older men in native garb and another teen in shorts and a baseball cap, joined him and then filed into the trees one by one. Blair wore only a pair of shorts and held a spear in one hand, his backpack in the other. He smiled for a second and nodded to the camera, then a strange expression crossed his face before he too disappeared into the jungle. Gone native. Just plain gone.

Jim turned off the VCR and sat contemplating the look on Blair's face. He'd always been so easy to read before. Jim couldn't shake the feeling that he would never see Blair again. He went to bed without dinner after all.

Dr. Stoddard went straight to his office. He needed a shower in the worst way, but he had too many important things to do first. Phone calls to make, favors to call in. He looked up as a shadow fell across his desk. "Hello, Agatha," he said ruefully.

"Eli, I heard you were back. I just had to come see you," Edwards purred with malicious satisfaction.

"If you're here to gloat over Blair, I already know," Stoddard snapped, leaning back in his chair as the chancellor perched her narrow ass on the edge of his desk.

"Too bad. I wanted to break the news to you myself."

"I know all about it, you witch. And I also know that you fired Blair and dropped him from the program illegally. But tell me, was it just because of Blair, or were you trying to get back at me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, old man," Edwards sneered. "Even if you have been a thorn in my side for more years than I care to think about, this had nothing to do with you. If it bothers you, then that's just gravy. I got rid of Sandburg because he turned in a fraudulent dissertation."

"That's where you're wrong. Even if it was fraudulent, which it wasn't, he never turned it in. It was stolen and you accepted the stolen paper to try and glorify yourself and the university."

"There are no such things as sentinels," Edwards rebuffed. "The whole paper was fiction. Sandburg admitted it to me and everyone else."

"Aw, but why would he do that? Think about it. He gave in too easily. By all rights, any dissertation that doesn't come through proper channels should be discarded, and Blair knows it. But he never brought that up. He just accepted the loss and walked away. You don't think that he might have been trying to protect someone?"

The chancellor sighed. "He'll never prove his fairy tale is true."

"The content of the paper isn't in question. In fact, it's irrelevant since Blair never intended for it to be seen by anyone. Procedure was completely ignored in this case, and heads are going to roll. I'll see to it personally. The ethics board is going to crucify you for your behavior in the matter."

Edwards paused for a minute as if procedure hadn't even occurred to her. "If the board had a problem, they would have already addressed it," she said defensively, rising to her feet.

"No one has bothered to bring it up. Yet," Stoddard threatened.

"Why would you do that?" Edwards all but screamed. "All it will do is bring the whole sordid affair back into the press. That won't be good for Sandburg or for Rainier."

"Or you? I don't care about the press. Blair is out of the country anyway. You know I stand up for my students. My kids. And make no mistake, Blair Sandburg is one of my kids. You are going to lose this time, you hag. I'll make sure of it," Stoddard struck the desk with his palm to punctuate his sentence.

"You'll only be hurting Sandburg," hissed the old woman as she moved to the door.

"He's got nothing left to lose. Good evening, Agatha."

"Earth to Jim," Simon repeated, a little louder this time, concern evident in his voice.

"Oh, hey," Ellison said with a jump, the slightest touch of red coloring his neck and cheeks.

"I thought you were zoned there for a minute," Simon whispered, sentinel soft.

"What?" Jim asked, clearly irritated that Simon forgot he couldn't do that anymore.

"My office," Simon blurted out and moved quickly away from the detective's desk.

Jim got up and half-heartedly followed. He'd finally reached acceptance, but he still wasn't happy.

"What's going on?" Simon asked as Jim closed the door and moved to sit in the hot seat.

"Sandburg didn't come home," he grumbled.

"Didn't come home? Or didn't come home?" Simon questioned cryptically.

Jim sighed. "He didn't come back to the States."

"Oh."

"He found another Sentinel. Or rather Stoddard did. That's why the old guy was so insistent that Blair join him in Belize. He knows about me, too. Says Blair didn't tell him, that he figured it out on his own."

"That's possible," Simon said carefully. "I mean Sandburg's been at this Sentinel thing a long time. He must have talked to this guy about it in the past, way before he met you. Hell, he wrote his Master's thesis on it, right?"

"Captain," Jim said, determined not to get upset. "I know that. I wasn't insinuating that Blair did anything wrong."

"Sorry, Jim. I just know how you are sometimes," Simon placated.

"Fear based responses," Jim muttered under his breath.

"Beg pardon?"

With another forlorn sigh, Jim straightened in his chair. "Fear based responses," he said more clearly. "That's what Sandburg calls it when I go off the deep end."

"Figures," Simon said with a snort. "He would have a name for it."

"What do I do, Simon?" Jim asked quietly, his face a mask of discipline, but his eyes full of pain and fear.

"What can you do? Go get him?"

Jim looked up suddenly with a stunned expression, as if that very thought hadn't occurred to him on a daily basis. If Simon thought so too...

"Jim, no," Simon said hastily. "You can't. What would have changed?"

"Everything's changed," Jim insisted.

"Not for Blair. The situation is the same now as it was before he left. Maybe he just needs some time to, I don't know. What does he do? Process?"

"If I don't get him back soon, I never will. I mean he's over there bonding with that other Sentinel right now," Jim explained urgently.

"Jim, if that's what he wants to do, you have to let him do it. Maybe he can't help it. Maybe he needs to be with a Sentinel."

"You mean because he's a Guide?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Sure?" Simon said, obviously not sure at all.

"I hadn't thought of that," Jim said under his breath, rubbing a hand over his hair. "He always seemed to work on instinct. I just assumed it was his personality. I never stopped to think that he was only doing what he was supposed to do. I wonder if he even realizes what he is."

"You're going, aren't you?"

"I don't know. I'll sleep on it tonight," Jim answered distractedly. "There's something else, sir."

Simon groaned. "I don't like the sound of that."

"I think that Eli Stoddard is going to blow the whistle on us."

"Shit," Simon muttered. "Why would he do that now?"

Jim shrugged. "I guess he thinks that Sandburg got a raw deal..."

"He did," Simon quickly agreed.

"Would it be so bad? To just get everything out in the open?" Jim asked.

"IA would have a field day, Jim," Simon cautioned. "We've got to protect the integrity of your investigations."

"I know. Look, Stoddard can't prove anything. I couldn't possibly do anything to impress anyone with my senses now if I wanted to. I just feel so damned guilty that I let this go so far without doing anything about it myself."

"If you let Stoddard do this, it negates everything that Blair did," Simon argued, becoming emotional. "His sacrifice would have been for nothing."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's what I keep telling myself. It's damn hard to be a martyr around here. Everyone tries to steal your thunder. I'll talk to Stoddard before I go."

"I thought you were going to sleep on it?"

Jim grinned a little. "I'll sleep on the plane."

It was easy to lose time in the jungle. Blair wondered what date to put on the entry as he started to write. It was tempting to just put the next date from the last entry, but he tried hard to remember without looking. No good. He flipped back a page and stared for a minute as he adjusted his glasses. That didn't look right, but Blair shrugged and wrote down the next number anyway. As if it mattered. He felt empty. Emptier now than he had before he left Cascade. At least there he could be in physical proximity to Jim. Now he didn't even have that. And he worried. He could have at least stuck around to find out if Jim was able to shut off his senses. All he could think about when he tried to sleep at night was how stubborn Jim was. How if he were in a tough spot he would automatically revert back to using his senses if someone were in danger. How that could so easily get him killed if he wasn't careful.

At least the joy of discovery still held him in awe. Not enough to fight off the terrible depression that he knew was coming, but enough to daily get him out of his makeshift bed of branches and leaves, covered with a woven mat that had been a gift from Tonnee's mother. The fourteen year old Sentinel had been raised as such from the time he could walk, his parents never far from his side. His senses were so keen and pure as to make Jim's look normal. Well almost, anyway. Now that he had been joined by his new Guide, they learned together each day to protect the tribe. A job that they would begin in earnest very soon. One they took very seriously. The tribe had been without guardians for too many years. Blair felt blessed to be a part of it, even in his own insignificant way.

Dr. Stoddard grunted something inarticulate as Jim tapped on the door, but for the most part, ignored him. "Hello," Jim said at last, growing impatient.

"Ellison. Come in," the man sighed, when he finally looked up from his work. "I thought you were going to call."

"I am calling," Jim deadpanned. Semantics.

"I meant on the phone," Stoddard smirked. "Just as well you're here. I need to ask you something."

"Go ahead." Jim entered the office and closed the door before taking a seat that hadn't been offered.

"Some time ago," Stoddard began, making Jim wonder if it was an anthropological trait not to get straight to the point in any conversation. "It must have been three years, perhaps more? Anyway, I offered Blair a position as my assistant on field trip as you so colorfully call it. I can't remember where we were going..."

"Borneo," Jim answered easily.

"Yes," Stoddard said excitedly. "I believe it was. But my point being, Blair turned me down. It was a major mistake on his part. The position would have been very important to his career." He eyed Jim for a minute, noting the slight flinch at his words. "I knew then that the boy had found his holy grail, as he called it. It took very little detective work to figure out what was going on. I gave him my blessing. I just never told him so. If he was so intent of keeping it a secret, I wasn't going to spoil it for him."

"How big of you," Jim replied quietly with an undercurrent of sarcasm.

"Quite," Stoddard agreed absently as he thumbed through the papers on his desk. "Let's see, here we go. Blair was offered three million dollars for his dissertation. He turned them down flat. How about that?"

"That much?" Jim asked in surprise. The last amount he had heard was only a million dollars. Right. Only a million.

"Yes. I understand the Noble committee was looking at him as well."

Jim nodded. He didn't need to be reminded of what Blair had walked away from. He thought about it every day. "What was your question, Dr. Stoddard?" he asked patiently.

"Please, detective. We're in this together now. Call me Eli."

"The question?"

"If I were to go to the press with the truth, how would that impact the police side of all this?"

"The police side?" Jim asked in surprise.

"Yes, you know. Criminals, murderers, the like. What would the impact be?"

"There could be some repercussions," Jim acknowledged regretfully.

"I see," Stoddard said, looking thoughtful. "Blair wouldn't like that, I'm sure."

Jim swallowed. "No, probably not. We might not have been able to get some of the scum off the streets if it wasn't for Blair."

Stoddard appeared to consider Jim's words for several minutes. "I've reconsidered my righteous indignation. Blair wouldn't have given up so many important things if he didn't think you were worth it. I trust his judgment. I won't go to the press. If it hurt you, it would hurt him. And I'm not prepared to do that."

"I don't think he would care much now," Jim said softly.

"Oh, that's where you're wrong. While Blair refused to discuss the Sentinel aspect of your relationship, we did in fact have some very interesting conversations about you, the man. He harbors no ill will towards you. In fact, I'd say the loss of your friendship has affected him deeply."

"Good," Jim intoned with a little more cheer. "That might make things a little easier."

"Things?"

"I'm going to Belize. To bring him home."

"Good luck," Stoddard laughed, much to Jim's chagrin. "I tell you what. I am going to raise a little hell around here, although I'll try to keep it out of the press. Maybe he'll have something worth coming home to. If you manage to get him back."

"If he won't come home, I'll stay there with him."

"I see. You're as stubborn as he is. How did you two not kill each other over the years?"

Good thing it was a long trip. Jim had time to go over his plan very carefully. He'd start by pointing out all the people who cared enough about Sandburg to go out of their way to help. Simon was working on a consultant type position at the station. One where they would work together. The police commissioner hadn't gotten over the fact that Blair had already quit once, but he was coming around. Eli was putting the screws to the university in general, and to Chancellor Edwards in particular. Apparently, there was no love lost between the two to start with, and things were just starting to heat up as Jim was leaving. He'd have loved to have had a front row seat to that particular witch-hunt. Eli was determined that Blair would have another shot at his doctorate. Jim had enlisted his father's help to go after Sid Graham. Suddenly Jim had found a use for William's army of lawyers. Already, they had managed a gag order and mandatory surrender of Blair's diss from the publisher. But Jim was out for blood, and he needed Blair's approval for the bloodletting he had in mind. That could wait, though. No hurry at all. It would give Sid a little time to stew.

Okay, that was point one. Point two being that Jim had made a huge mistake in walking away from his 'gifts'. He knew that now, he could admit it. All he had to do was convince Blair that the next time something came up he wouldn't revert and be ready to ditch them again. He had learned his lesson. He knew who he was now. There were no more doubts. The past three months had been like living in a plastic bubble, unable to really touch the outside world. Everything was dampered and dull. Colors were gray. Sounds were muted. Life was just... not worth the effort. But that had nothing to do with his senses. That was the loss of Blair from his life. That was point three. And even though it was the most important point, it would be the hardest to prove.

The man who brought him into the jungle, Jim refused to think of him as his guide, had already turned back. Jim assured him that he was no babe in the woods and could handle himself just fine. In fact, he expected his senses to come rushing back any second. He took a deep breath and waited. Okay. He could wait. The spirit guides were probably still a little pissed. They hadn't exactly come calling during the crisis anyway. He hadn't thought about it then, but all of them, Blair included, had let him make his bed. And now they expected him to sleep in it. Well, senses be damned. He was still going to find Sandburg. Jungle or no. It was just going to take a little longer with no bond to home in to, no sensitive hearing or sense of smell. Shit. This could take forever.

Tonnee smelled a white man earlier in the day. He didn't say another white man. Just a white man. Blair smiled a little at that. Apparently he wasn't considered anything but part of the tribe now. They had been tracking the smell most of the morning, Blair content to follow along and watch the fun. It was an excellent test of the boy's abilities, and Blair took advantage of the opportunity. Now they were close, so he sunned himself on a rock in a small clearing as other members of the tribe set up some sort of a trap for the visitor. Tonnee and Luis assured him that the man wouldn't be hurt, just incapacitated until they could find out what he wanted. Blair trusted them completely, so he put on his glasses and made a few notes as he sat back to watch, unknowingly becoming the bait for the trap.

Luis' head popped up from the other side of the meadow and grinned back at Blair, who grinned and waved in return. Luis was a Godsend. Raised in the city, he spoke not only the native language, but Spanish and a little pigeon English as well. Blair had been coaching him on English, and he had in turn helped Blair immensely in communicating with Tonnee. The other things that he learned from Luis had upset the apple cart that had been his understanding of all things Sentinel. He needed time to process these revelations. Just as well. He had nothing, if not time.

Luis was a few years older than Tonnee, and they had taken to each other like fish to water. Blair watched for distant glimpses of them as they got farther and farther away, but he only saw them when they wanted to be seen. They were having a ball gently herding the stranger into the ravine to come out this end and fall into the trap. Other teenage tribesmen were scattered around in the jungle, but some of the men hid closer to Blair. Ready to lend a hand should things get out of control. All in all, it had the atmosphere of a big practical joke. Everyone but Blair hid and waited for the punchline.

Damn, damn, and double damn, Ellison cursed silently to himself. He knew how to survive in the jungle, after all, he'd done it for eighteen months, hadn't he? Of course, at the time he had enhanced senses, someone to watch his back, and a whole tribe of friendlies to look out for him. And let's not forget his ever present M-16. How many years ago was that? He was still in great shape, but uncounted Wonderburgers and God only knows how many donuts, pizzas, and beers were bound to take a little bite out of his stamina. Plus, he hadn't been to the gym in a while. Somehow, he hadn't had the energy for it lately. He stopped to rest, his shirt damp in the hot, heavy air as sweat poured off him in rivers.

Another imaginary noise off to his right made him regret that he hadn't been more persistent in his efforts to secure a weapon back at the last outpost of civilization. His instincts told him it wasn't an animal, but he had nothing to back them up with. It was just a feeling. A feeling that he was being driven by something, or someone just out of sight in the brush. Taking a sip from his canteen, he moved to cross the small ravine. A noise from the left brought him up short. After a momentary pause, he shifted his direction and headed directly into the ravine, thinking to double back and come up behind his imagined pursuers.

The tree line was broken up ahead and Jim crouched down in the deep shade to scope out the clearing before attempting to skirt around it. His heart stopped for a moment as he caught sight of tanned legs and bare feet hanging down the side of a large rock, just on the other side of the clearing. He smiled and rose as he spotted the curly brown hair, feathers and all, shifting around in the faint afternoon breeze. Thank God. Blair was safe, and looking healthy, as he lazily wrote in a journal, his glasses catching the sun as they perched on his nose.

"Sandburg!" Jim shouted and rushed forward, unable to keep the huge grin off his face. He couldn't believe his luck. He thought he'd never find him, and here he was out in the middle of nowhere, sitting on a rock.

Blair's head whipped up and he had a look of impending doom on his face. "Jim? Stop! Wait!" he yelled as he slid off the boulder and bolted towards his friend. Too late. "Oh, man," Blair groaned as he slowed his forward movement and cautiously approached. "Na kan, um, what's the word? Il taman!" he said and suddenly Jim was surrounded by a mean looking bunch of tribesmen, all pointing spears as Jim helpless swung around by his ankles in small circles from the end of the vines.

"What did you say!" Jim asked urgently.

"Shit," Blair said. "I'm not sure. Luis!"

"Here," a smiling boy said as he came crashing out of the bush with another boy close behind. Jim recognized the second kid from the tape as Blair's new Sentinel. He tried to scrutinize his competition each time he came back around into view as he swung.

"What did I say?" Blair asked urgently.

"You told them to cut him," Luis answered with a grin.

"No, I meant to cut him down," Blair explained as he indicated with his hands that the men should lower their spears. "It's okay. Everybody make nice," he urged.

The boy said a few things to the group and the men began to laugh. A couple of them pounded on Blair's back as they moved toward the base of the tree to release their prize. Blair reached out and grabbed Jim by the forearms to stop his spinning before it made him sick. And truthfully, he was getting a little dizzy watching it himself.

"What are you doing here, Jim?" Blair asked with affection, failing to hide his surprise and delight.

"I just came to check up on you, Chief."

"Oh, I get it. You don't trust me to take care of myself in the jungle," Blair teased.

"Well, I know how you like to get into trouble," Jim replied as casually as he could in his current condition. He felt the blood rushing to his head.

"Yeah? Well I'm not the one hanging upside down from a tree, now am I?" Blair said as he stepped back, still grinning. "Watch your head," he cautioned as one of the men hit the end of the vine that was wrapped around the tree trunk with a machete. Jim came toppling down, rolling into the fall onto his shoulder. "Ouch," Blair squinched up his face. "That had to hurt."

"This is your Sentinel?" the boy who he'd been talking to asked quietly.

Jim saw Blair's face fall before he turned away. "He used to be," Blair whispered as he moved back toward the clearing.

A hand appeared in Jim's face as he brushed himself off. He looked up into the solemn face of his opposition. He took the hand and let the boy lever him up. The kid indicated that they should follow the others with a nod of his head. As they walked, he got the distinct impression that not only was he being scrutinized, but also that somehow he didn't measure up.

"Can I ask a question?" Jim asked, removing his torn shirt with a grunt. The blood had dried, making it stick. The pull caused it to bleed again.

"Sure," Blair answered as he gathered what he needed out of his bag.

"How come I didn't react to the other Sentinel?" Jim seated himself by the fire and began to pick at the small wounds.

"I don't know," Blair said as he batted Jim's hand away and began to clean the scratches with water from Jim's canteen. "Maybe because you're on his turf."

"How come he didn't react to me, then?" Jim persisted.

Blair snorted back a laugh. "How should I know, Jim? Maybe he's smarter than you are. Or less alpha male," Blair answered wryly. "Or maybe because you're not a Sentinel anymore, dumbass." The last was said too low for Jim to hear.

"What was that?"

"I said he's smarter than you," Blair hedged, hiding a grin.

"Tony? What kind of name is that for a Sentinel anyway?" Jim asked petulantly as Blair began to dab at his scrapes with iodine, blowing on each one in turn as he went. Jim gave him a you've-got-to-be-kidding look, but Blair ignored him and continued to work.

"It's Tonnee," Blair corrected automatically. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Easy, Sandburg. You don't have to get defensive. He seems like a nice enough kid."

"Oh he is, Jim. And his senses are unbelievable. He has range like I've never seen. And it's all so natural for him..." Blair caught the hurt look in Jim's eye and cut himself off. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean anything by that. How are you?"

"I'm a lot wiser now, Chief. I've learned my lesson. If you come home, I promise to be the best roommate, partner, Sentinel.... friend that I possibly can. Give me a chance."

"Look, man. It's not that I don't want to. I just can't."

"Why not? It's easy. We hike for about a day. Then we take as many alternate means of transportation as possible and before you know it, we're home."

"Jim," Blair sighed. "It's like this. I feel like we're divorced. Like I still love ya, but I know I can't live with you," he explained awkwardly.

"Okay, Blair, that's just a little too..."

"Close to home?"

"I was gonna say weird," Jim amended. "But I still love you, too," he mumbled and studiously examined some very interesting stones around the fire.

"You do?" Blair asked with shock. Jim nodded, but kept his head down. "I know that was hard for you to say," Blair encouraged with a growing smile.

"You have no idea," Jim said, but began to smile himself. "So it's settled? You'll come home with me?"

"Aw, Jim. I can't. I still have so much to learn."

Jim snorted in disappointment. "And then there's that forever kind of bond you have with you're new Sentinel," he grumbled.

"What? What are you talking about?" Blair asked in confusion as he put the lid back on the bottle of medicine and replaced it in his pack. After a minute, his head snapped up to look at Jim as comprehension struck. "Jesus, Jim. What makes you think I'd ever have another Sentinel? It's like keeping an untrained, ill tempered gorilla. Thanks, but no thanks."

Jim glanced up to see the twinkle in Blair's eyes and realized that he was having his chain yanked by the master. Talk about kicking someone when he's down. And enjoying it. "Prick," Jim muttered under his breath. Blair's laughter rolled over him, soothing him, as he hadn't been for so very long. "This feels so right," Jim couldn't help but saying.

Blair sighed, looking sad again. "So how did you turn off your senses?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"Come on, man. You let a fourteen year old boy maneuver you right into a trap. I'd have thought your Ranger training would have prevented that."

"I had something else on my mind," Jim growled defensively.

"Right. Like you thought your Guide was cheating with another Sentinel again," Blair accused. Jim couldn't tell if he was teasing or not. It didn't feel like teasing. It cut right to the bone.

"Aren't you?"

"You think I'm Tonnee's Guide," Blair stated calmly.

"You're not?"

"No. Luis is. They were picked out for each other years ago. Like an arranged marriage, sort of."

"The city kid?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. So how do you fit into all of this?"

Blair was grinning again. "No matter what happened, Jim, I'm still an anthropologist. Even if I can never publish again, I want to get this down. I'm probably the only one who can."

"Why is that?"

"This is very personal for these people. It's sacred. They've been without someone to watch their borders for way too long. The only reason they've accepted me is because they recognize me as a Guide."

"So it's true," Jim said in amazement. "Being a Guide is as unique as being a Sentinel. You can't have one without the other."

"Not if you expect it to work," Blair agreed. "How did you know?"

Jim laughed. "Believe it or not, Chief. I figured that one out all by myself. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to make a couple of points here..."

Point, counter point. Damn but Sandburg was good at debate. And ruthless as hell, Jim mused. All the while keeping a damnable emotional distance. Cool and detached. Cold even. Something about the jungle brought out the predator in him. Made him feral. Mean. Or maybe Jim had done that himself. He'd been a hell of a teacher when it came to unapproachable. As night time fell, Jim realized that he had lost. He lay unsleeping, next to Blair who was still willing to share his narrow mat with him, even as he kicked him out of his life.

"I'm glad you came, Jim," Blair said, long after Jim assumed that he was asleep. "There was too much left unsaid between us."

"There still is," Jim ground out, unwilling to hide his disappointment.

"I know, but at least now we can part as friends?"

"Go to sleep, Sandburg. I've got a long walk ahead of me tomorrow. Alone." There make him feel guilty.

"Spoil sport," Blair groused and rolled away. The victor feeling every bit the loser. This sucked. There was no way to make it right. At least Jim had come. That meant a lot. It was all he could do not to give in and give Jim one more chance. But he was determined to be strong. He'd fall apart later. After Jim had gone.

Sandburg was much more docile the next morning. In fact, he didn't have much to say at all. They ate some fruit and bread that had been left for them by some of the doting village women, then Jim started off into the jungle without so much as a word. He was surprised to find that he had not one, but several shadows as he made his way along to the ravine where he had been captured. Thoughts of Blair telling the Major Crime gang about him hanging there gave way to thoughts of how he was going to break the news that Blair had not wanted to come back. Everyone was going to be disappointed. No one had doubted that Jim would be able to bring him home.

"Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief?" Jim said, turning back. His eyes burned. The sun was pretty damn bright in the clearing this morning.

Sandburg stood less than three feet away, but the distance seemed uncrossable. Blair wiped at his face. Must have been an insect.

"What day is it?" Blair asked hesitantly, sounding torn by his emotions.

A stalling tactic? Why would Blair even care what day it was? Jim thought to himself as he glanced at his watch. "Wednesday, the twenty-third," he croaked out, cursing that he sounded so desperate. They stood for the longest time, each waiting the other out. Jim tried to memorize the man that had meant so much to him, but Blair wouldn't meet his eyes.

Tonnee said something in the background, and Luis answered him quietly before they left together in apparent disgust.

"What was all that?" Jim asked quietly.

"I think they decided that we are fools," Blair smiled as a tear made its way down his face.

"Out of the mouths of babes," Jim agreed.

"I just want you to know," Blair whispered. "That I'd have still done it, even if I had known how it would end. I would hope that I wouldn't make the same mistakes, but I'd have done it. It was worth it, to have had you as my friend."

Tears began to stream down Blair's cheeks as he spoke, and Jim's heart started to race. At last, the break he'd been waiting for. Blair's armor was crumpling around him. Jim would have to attack now before he could get it back in place.

"You took the easy way out," Jim spat out as Blair started back into the jungle. Jim's words stopped him cold.

"What?" Blair said as he spun back around, looking as though he'd been slapped.

"You heard me," Jim accused, sounding angry. In reality, he felt like a bastard for doing it. His heart was breaking. "You took the easy way out."

"Easy?" Blair asked with an incredulous laugh that turned quickly into a sob. "Easy? Nothing about this has been easy. Nothing in the last six months has been easy," he screamed.

"It would have been a lot harder to stay and fight for this. For us," Jim said much softer, controlling the conversation before it got out of hand.

"Yeah, well, sometimes the easy thing to do is also the right thing to do," Blair sighed.

"No. You're wrong," Jim argued softly, noticing immediately that the lower his tone, the closer Blair edged towards him. "I know you're always right about everything else, but this time you're wrong. We're supposed to be together," he whispered, watching in amazement as the gap between them was closed. At last he felt a gentle touch on his elbow.

"Jim, there's such a thing as compatibility of the soul," Blair explained as if to a child. "I've seen what it's like now. Tonnee and Luis have it. We don't."

"We do," Jim insisted, catching Blair by the shoulders. "I've fought against it, I admit that. But we do have it. You're gonna think this is dumb, but I think of us as Batman and Robin."

A small smile touched Sandburg's lips and he swallowed. Slowly the tears stopped as he made some internal decision. "Batman and Robin?" he asked at last. "I suppose I'm the sidekick?"

"Of course," Jim said as he watched the smile reach Blair's eyes. "Come home."

"I don't know if I can help turn your senses back on. Again."

"Doesn't matter."

"I'm not going to be a cop, either."

"I know." Jim waited for a few more seconds, pleading silently with his eyes. "Come on in. The water's fine," he said at last.

"It always has been, you dumb fuck," Blair managed as he was pulled in for a superhero sized hug.

"Don't get snot on me," Jim warned lightly as he held on for dear life. He swore to himself that he'd never let go.

We had our own bonding ceremony that night, the tribe happy to share in our joy, eager to accept us for what we were, as our own world would never be able to. The young Sentinel and his untested Guide watched us with something akin to pride. We felt a little foolish that they thought of us as naïve and innocent, they in their own month long bond so far ahead of us. At the conclusion of the ritual, we felt the bond immediately, as it swelled within us, restoring us to our proper places. Sentinel and Guide. Everything wasn't right. Not yet. But we were on the right path, this we knew instinctively.

We argued on the way home. We laughed, we cried, we fought bitterly; neither of us pulling punches, neither of us ducking. Until at last, the air between us was clear. Crystal clear as the water that really was fine. More than fine. It was wonderful. By the time we changed planes, we were once again copacetic. Better in fact. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same soul. Equal. Sentinel of the Great City and his Guide. Guide of the Great City and his Sentinel. Neither of us a sidekick, yet both. Never again to be torn asunder by words or deeds. We are now whole.

Two months later

"Sandburg! It's time. Let's go," Jim yelled as soon as he came in through the front door. "And while you're at it, come get your underwear off of the kitchen floor."

"Geez, Jim. Relax. They're clean. They must have fallen out of the laundry basket," Blair muttered as he made his way out of his room, clumsily trying to knot his tie as he went. "Shit. My fingers don't work," he complained.

"Nervous?" Jim asked as he brushed Blair's shaky hands away and tied the knot himself. "Your heart's beating a mile a minute."

"I'm a little nervous, I guess," Blair admitted. "It's not everyday that I defend my dissertation. At least now the Sentinel is an unnamed tribal guardian half a world away. No one could find Tonnee, even if they tried."

"I know I've said it before, but I really am sorry for all the trouble, Chief," Jim said guiltily as he moved away and kicked the boxers on the floor towards his roommate. "If we had talked about a lot of things sooner, you would already have your Ph.D. And we wouldn't have had to go through all that other crap."

"I don't know, Jim," Blair said thoughtfully. "If we hadn't gone through what we did, we might not be where we are now. Ya know?"

"Don't get philosophical on me, Chief," Jim grinned.

"So the department really wants to hire me full time as a consultant?" Blair asked still not really believing.

"Yep. Just as soon as you get your degree. The commissioner is looking forward to having a Ph.D. on board," Jim assured. "Batman and Robin, together again. Unless you'd rather teach, Dr. Sandburg?"

Blair laughed. "I'm not there yet, man. Just let me get through today. And it gave me waaay too much pleasure when I told Edwards where to stick her job offer. Another bridge up in smoke."

"That bitch is lucky to still have a job after Stoddard got through with her. I don't care if she did get censured. She should have been fired," Jim railed. "You know, we could still sue Graham and his damn company. You might get something out of this after all."

"Hmm. I'd love to teach that man a lesson," Blair said thoughtfully. "At least he'd think twice before doing it again to someone else."

"I talked to the lawyer again," Jim started shyly, not wanting to push. Yet.

Blair gave him a gentle smile but shook his head. "Later, Jim. I've got to get moving."

As Blair started for the door, Jim caught him by the arm and cleared his throat. "The underwear," he said firmly.

"I'll bet Batman wasn't so damned grumpy," Blair muttered under his breath as he picked up the boxers and tossed them into his room.

"I'll bet Robin didn't leave his nasty underwear on the floor of the batcave," Jim countered as he headed out the door.

"They were clean, Jim! I swear!"

The End

Disclaimer - Images, characters, and settings taken from various television shows are the property of their respective owners, producers, etc.  No copyright infringement intended, I'm just having a little fun.