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But For the Grace of God    
                    by Kikkimax
 

Blair Sandburg made his way through Major Crime to get to the interrogation room where his partner, along with Detective Brown, was talking to a suspect. When he cracked open the door to the observation area he was motioned in by Captain Banks, who was watching the procedure through the two way mirror with a calm detachment.

"Hey, Simon. What's going on?" Blair asked by way of a greeting.

"Long time no see, Sandburg. You get midterms out of the way?" the tall man asked.

"Yeah, finally," Blair said. "At the end of this semester I'm off for two and a half months. I'm not taking or giving any classes this summer."

"Swell," Simon grimaced. "I guess we'll be seeing a whole lot of you at the station then. I think we might just have to find some paperwork for you to do. You know, keep you out of trouble."

Blair noted the grin that tugged at the grim set of the Captain's lips and fought against a smile of his own. "I don't know about all that. I mean I've got a couple of projects in the works. Maybe I'll head off for a field study somewhere. Brazil or Kenya..." Blair stopped mid sentence when he realized that Jim's head had snapped up to glare at the mirrored wall that separated the interrogation room from the observation area. "Easy, Jim!" Blair said loudly with a laugh. "I was just yanking Simon's chain. I'm not going anywhere," he added much softer. He failed to realize that Jim had been tracking his voice almost from the time he got off the elevator, out of habit, coupled with boredom with the interview.

Jim nodded as if appeased and turned back to the large, unkempt man sitting at the table; the one an angry Detective Brown appeared to be brow beating quietly. The man had suddenly covered his ears with his hands, just about the same time that Blair had raised his voice.

"What's the story with this guy? He looks rough." Blair studied the large man with the straggly blonde hair and ragged beard. He looked like he had once been a healthy, even well muscled man. Older than Blair, but maybe not as old as Jim, he looked worn out by life. Rode hard and put away wet. Definitely a street person. It had been a long while since this man had had a bath. Turn down your sense of smell, man, Blair thought to his partner.

"He was spotted on the roof of the Spearwell Building. Security there thought he might be a jumper," Simon answered quietly.

"That's a pretty tall building. Good choice to end it all, I guess. Why is he here instead of getting a psych eval somewhere?"

"When they got to him, they also found a dead body hidden up on the roof. Looks like it might have been there for a while. This guy probably didn't have anything to do with it, but when Brown and Rafe got there and tried to question him, the guy freaked. He grabbed Rafe and almost went over the side with him."

Blair nodded. "That would explain Brown's bad mood. Rafe okay?"

"Separated shoulder. He's gonna pull desk duty for awhile."

Inside the other room Detective Brown began to lose patience. "You're not even listening to me," he said as he slammed a fist down onto the table top. The man flinched as if he had been struck. He curled in on himself and covered his head with his arms.

"Make them stop," he pleaded. "I can't stand the voices." It was the first time the man had spoken since arriving at the station. Mostly he had just sat in his chair and rocked as if in pain.

"Jim," Blair offered, confident his partner would hear him, "if he's hearing voices he may be schizophrenic."

"I'm not crazy!" the man shouted belligerently and then winced at his own voice. He raised his head and stared directly at the mirror, where the anthropologist stood, mouth open, supposedly unseen on the other side. Jim looked up in surprise and glanced at Brown who only shrugged.

"Simon, get Brown out of there," Blair whispered urgently.

Banks moved to the door and stopped to look back at the young observer. A question
was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it as he left the room. Blair was on to something, and grudgingly the police captain had learned not to argue, not too much anyway. Not when the kid had that determined glint in his eye. More often than not he was right. He opened the door to the adjoining room. "Brown, come on, let's go check on your partner."

"I can handle this," Henri ground out between clenched teeth, afraid that his Captain knew how close he was to losing it.

"I know you can," Simon answered easily. "I just think you can do more good for your partner right now by being with him. This guy's not going anywhere. If you want to stay here though, I'll give Rafe your best." Simon moved as if to close the door, but kept an eye on the burly detective.

"Wait," Brown called out, knowing he was being played but not willing to risk being pulled out of the interrogation if he did lose it. He spared a glance at Ellison. Jim could handle the guy by himself. In fact, Jim was only in the room for the prisoner's protection, not because Brown needed him. "Jim?" he asked.

"Get out of here, H. I'll take care of your friend here," Ellison offered sincerely.

Brown nodded and walked through the door with his Captain, who eyed Jim uneasily before he followed Brown down the corridor.

"Tell me about the voices," Jim said softly to the huddled mass under the ragged clothing.

"There were two, talking about me. Now there's only one." The man lowered his head into his hands.

Blair stood fascinated for a second when he realized that he had been talking softly to himself after Simon had gone to get Brown. "You can hear me, can't you?" Blair asked in a normal tone of voice.

The man lifted his head and glared at the mirrored wall. "Of course I can hear you. Who are you?"

"My name is Blair. Say it out loud to prove to me that you can actually hear me."

"Blair," the man muttered, rolling his eyes.

"You understand that I'm on the other side of a soundproof wall, right?"

"Then how can you hear me?"

Jim listened to the exchange silently, realizing that what he had overlooked, his Sentinel obsessed partner had picked up on immediately. He tuned into the conversation with a great deal of interest.

"There's a microphone in the room you’re in that’s piped into the room I’m in," Blair explained. "Can you see me too?"

"Look, I'm not Superman, okay?" The man chuckled slightly, but it sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Try," Blair urged in the tone of voice that Jim was often hard pressed to ignore. Apparently it had the same effect on the stranger in front of him.

Obviously the man felt compelled to comply with the wishes of the disembodied voice even if he didn’t understand why. He rose from his chair and moved to the mirror placing his hand on it. "I can make out a shape, I think. It's vague, like an outline. You're not very tall."

Jim narrowed his eyes and found that he, too, could just make out the image of his partner in the other room.

"Can you smell me?" Blair asked.

"Don't be disgusting," the man exclaimed, still peering anxiously through the mirror.

"I'm serious. How sensitive is your nose?"

The man sniffed and was almost overcome by his own body odor. He took in the smell of the man behind him, who watched with curiosity, but didn't comment on his apparent one way conversation with the mirror. He smelled of soap and aftershave and deodorant; but none of it very strong. Not overwhelming like most people. "You smell like something herbal, maybe. Fresh," he said at last when he picked up the smell from the other side of the wall.

Blair reached up with a finger and traced the outline of the big man's hand through the glass. The man jumped, but didn't pull his hand away. When Blair placed his hand fully against the prisoner’s larger one the man's eyes widened as he felt the warmth of Blair's palm right through the partition.

"Who are you?" the tattered face whispered, sparing a brief glance at Jim’s reflection in the mirror before turning his attention back to the indistinct image on the other side.

Jim tugged gently on the man's sleeve, careful not to make contact with what he was sure was over stimulated skin beneath. "Sit down," he ordered quietly. "I'll be right back."

Blair was already in the hallway when Jim came out of the interrogation room. "Jim..." he began excitedly.

"I know," Jim answered simply.

Blair pleaded with his eyes. "I can help."

"I know," Jim said again. "He might still be dangerous," he added with a sigh.

"He won't hurt me," Blair protested adamantly.

Jim pinned the smaller man with an icy glare. "How do you know he won't?"

"Because, I can help him."

Jim frowned at the circular argument and clenched his jaw before he spoke again. "You helped Alex, too. That didn't stop her from killing you though, did it?"

Blair glared back at his friend for a moment. Unfortunately, Alex was still a sore subject. Jim had gone so far as to accuse him of disloyalty and had thrown him out of the loft when she’d come between them, which indirectly had led to Blair being drowned. Blair had no intention of letting it happen again.

"If you don't want me to do this, then tell me now and I'll walk away from it, but..." he stopped, aware that the untrained Sentinel in the next room was listening to everything they said, Blair whipped out a pad and hastily wrote on it in bold letters: YOU KNOW WHAT HE'S GOING THROUGH.

Jim suddenly felt guilty for not having more compassion for the man. If indeed he was experiencing what Jim had gone through when his senses kicked into hyper drive then Jim could understand how he might want to jump off a tall building somewhere. If it hadn't been for Sandburg, he might very well have done the same thing. He moved to the small window on the door and examined the rumpled shell of a man sitting hunched over at the table. The man raised his head and squinted in Jim's direction. Jim decided that the bright florescent lights were probably blinding the man, not to mention the headache it was sure to cause. He reached into the room and shut off the overhead lights. The man's eyes now opened and tracked to the left of Jim and down slightly, as if trying to see through the wood of the door to where Sandburg stood.

"He knows right where you are," Jim observed absently, "must be tracking your heart beat."

Jim was torn. Honestly, he felt sorry for the man, but he wasn't willing to put Sandburg in any kind of danger. He still had nightmares about Blair's wet, lifeless form lying on the grass. Still, if anyone could help this man, it was the bundle of energy who was trying to wiggle past him to glance in the window. Placing a hand on the smaller man's chest, Jim pushed him gently away from the door. When the expressive blue eyes met his own Jim had to smile a little as he made up his mind.

"Let me talk to him for a minute, Chief. Then you can come in."

Blair caught his arm as he turned to enter the now dark room. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked softly.

"There, but for the grace of God, go I," Jim whispered back. When Jim slipped silently back into the room the man eyed him anxiously before turning his gaze to the window where Blair's worried face appeared.

"That's my partner," Jim said keeping his tone low.

"Can he really help me?" the man's tired voice broke, but he never took his eyes off the door.

"I think so," Jim answered truthfully. "But let's be clear about this. If you so much as muss one hair on his head, I'll hurt you. I'll make you wish you had never been born."

The man closed his eyes and lowered his head. "I already do," he moaned. "I already do."

"One more thing," Ellison said very, very quietly, leaning over the man in the chair, "when this is all said and done, just remember one thing; Blair is mine." When he straightened back up, he motioned for Blair to join them.

As Blair entered the room the strange Sentinel raised his head and carefully drank in every detail of the younger man, unencumbered by the darkness. Shortly after their conversation had begun he had picked up a strange percussion he eventually recognized as a heart beat. Blair's heart beat. It somehow seemed to focus him, as did the soft timbre of the voice. Even better, he now read understanding and compassion in the blue eyes.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked at last to the only person he had ever met that he thought might actually be able to answer him.

"I'll answer all your questions later. Right now we need to find some kind of control here, okay?" Blair settled into a chair next to him and very gently placed a hand on his forearm. He was aware of the scowling detective standing protectively behind Blair, but let that knowledge slip to the periphery for now. "What's your name?" Blair asked.

"David. David Temco,” he answered quietly. All of his attention was on the soft voice and the staccato heart beat, so he didn't notice when the cop moved to the door and ordered a back ground check on him. He was also unaware that he had just given more information to a police observer in two minutes than he had to a couple of top notch detectives in over two hours.

"I want you to become familiar with my voice," Blair instructed. "Whenever you hear this tone I want you to begin to relax your muscles and take some slow deep breaths, okay?"

David nodded and did as he was told. For the first time in weeks the touch of another human didn't set his nerve endings on fire; and listening to someone speak didn't send shafts of pain shooting through his head.

"Ok, David. We're going to start with your hearing. I want you to picture a dial in your head, like the volume knob on a radio. Can you see it?"

"Yes."

"Good. Very good. Now I want you to see that the knob is set too high right now. It's all the way up to ten. Turn it down a notch. Did you turn it down?"

"Yes."

"Great. Okay, I want you to turn it down again. It should be at eight now. You should be able to tell the difference in volume now. We're going to go to seven now..."

Leaning against the wall by the door Jim waited for any information on David Temco while keeping a close eye on the proceedings. He jumped when he heard a crash as someone dropped a plastic tray somewhere down the hall. Unconsciously, he realized, he had been listening to his partner's ‘Guide’ voice. When Blair had suggested to the other man that the dial for hearing was all the way up, Jim had obeyed as well, and set his hearing near the top of his range. He had followed along, and was now somewhere around seven, but it was still much too high so he automatically lowered his dial to just above normal.

Temco was behaving himself and doing exactly as Blair told him to do. Jim had to admit it was a marked contrast to his own argumentative approach to anything Blair had tried to get him to do in the beginning. He had always thought Blair thrived on the conflict, but now he seemed to cut through all the crap and get right to the heart of the matter with this much more willing subject.

Of course, Temco was on the edge, literally. He had come close to ending his own tortured existence. Blair had seen this and jumped right in without an explanation, never giving the man time to get defensive. He was using techniques that he had learned by working with Jim. And Alex, too, he supposed. That thought made Jim shudder. Why had he had such a negative reaction when Alex had blown into town? Yet he hadn't even noticed the Sentinel sitting across the table from him until Sandburg had walked in and uncovered the truth. Was it because Alex was female? Or was it because she was the embodiment of evil and somehow Jim recognized it?

Temco didn’t seem to trigger any kind of adverse reaction on his part, but Jim was still concerned that if Blair made a wrong move or said the wrong thing Temco might go postal on him. A number of times Jim himself had grabbed Blair and thrown him against a wall during stressful situations. He realized he would probably hurt this man if he tried to do the same thing. Although that particular scenario wasn't likely to happen since Temco was staring at Blair like a love sick puppy dog. And Jim decided he didn't like it. No, he didn't like it at all.

He had already warned the man that Blair was his Guide. Not that Temco understood what that meant just yet, but he would eventually figure it out. Jim knew he would always come first, but what if Blair thought he didn't need him any more? Not the way Temco needed him anyway. And Temco obviously did need him. But Jim still needed him, too. They had already formed a kind of Sentinel/Guide bond somewhere along the way. Maybe that bond had taken a beating in the recent past; some of the more serious blows made by Jim alone, but it was still intact. Jim didn't think it would work three ways. And he certainly wasn't willing to let some stranger into the mix.

"Jim? Earth to Jim." Blair's voice broke through at last and the detective tore his eyes away from Temco to look down into Blair's questioning gaze. Somehow Jim had left the wall and now stood behind his partner with both hands on his shoulders. Blair didn't question his presence, just accepted that he was there.

"What?"

"I said you can turn the lights on now, if you want."

"Right." Jim reluctantly crossed the room and hit the switch. Blair blinked at the sudden flash of light, but neither Sentinel flinched. They stared each other down in an unintentional game of chicken.

"Now, we need to work on touch..." Blair said with a slightly scratchy voice.

Jim glanced at his watch and realized that they had been at it for over an hour. The progress they’d been made was impressive, but Blair's throat was beginning to sound a little worse for wear.

There was a tap at the door that Jim answered immediately. Rhonda handed him a printout, which Jim read with interest. Apparently, David Temco was a firefighter who had suddenly disappeared approximately three months ago, never returning to the fire department after a medical leave of absence. No criminal or psych record. The picture of the clean shaven, hell, just plain clean man that stared back at him from the missing persons file was a handsome, respected professional. Temco had fallen a long way.

Another hour passed before Simon came to the door. Jim refused to leave Blair alone with Temco, so they talked briefly in the doorway. Ellison grimaced at Simon's instructions, then turned to pass along the bad news.

"Chief, they're here to take him to Conover now."

"Conover? Why?"

"Its mandatory, three days for a suicide attempt. Rap this up. I'll have Simon stall for ten minutes."

"Don't leave me," Temco pleaded, sounding frantic.

"I'm sorry, David. There's nothing I can do," Blair confessed. "Just remember the things I showed you, especially the dials. When things get to be too much, remember to do the breathing exercises, okay?"

"I can't do them without you," Temco grasped at Blair's arms desperately, causing Ellison to yank Blair away abruptly.

"You don't touch him, do you understand?" Jim barked, pulling Sandburg out of harm’s way.

"Jim, he's just scared. He's not going to hurt me."

Temco began to cry, "I don't understand. Why can't you come with me?"

Blair tried to reach out, but the other scared Sentinel held him firmly away. "Jim, please," Blair begged, his own eyes filling with tears of empathy, rocked by the larger man's sobs. "Let me talk to him at least."

Jim reluctantly eased his hold, physically anyway. Emotionally, he held tight. Blair dropped to one knee in front of the homeless man. He took the grubby hands into his own. "Listen to me David. It's only three days. You can do it, I'm sure you've been through much worse. Just be calm. It's probably better if you don't tell them too much about your senses. Let them know when the light is too bright, or they are speaking too loud. Don't tell them you can hear their private conversations or that you can feel their breath from across the room. They’re not likely to believe you and may keep you longer. Just remember that I believe you and that I'll come to see you as soon as they will let me in, okay?"

Tears streamed steadily down the dirty man's face, leaving trails of clean skin. "Is there anyone you need me to call for you?" Blair asked.

"No," the man sniffled. "I don't have anyone."

"That's not true," Blair assured. "Now you have me."

Jim stiffened as he felt his blood run cold. Fighting what he knew was one hell of a fear based response he tried to swallow past a dry throat. This felt like the beginning of the end. It felt like his Guide was moving on, leaving him.

"Here's my card. Put it in your pocket. If they ask you for an emergency contact you give them my name. David, I promise I'll help you. You're not alone in this any more," Blair continued, unaware of the pain he had inadvertently inflicted on his friend. "When I come to see you, I'll explain everything."

"Okay," Temco finally managed. "I'll hang on until you get there."

Blair watched helplessly as the men from the psych hospital lead the new Sentinel away. David looked back over his shoulder until they rounded a corner, but held on to the heart beat of his savior, turning up the volume slowly as they moved farther and farther away, until at last the surrounding sounds were too much and he had to turn the knob back the other way. Just like Blair had taught him to do. He concentrated on his breathing. In and out. In and out. Three days. He would breathe for three more days.

Once back in the bullpen Jim gathered their jackets from the rack and handed one to Sandburg. "Come on, Chief, it's after seven. Let's go home."

"Thanks, Jim."

"For what?"

"For understanding."

"Yeah," Jim said sullenly. "Let's get out of here."

The ride home was strangely quiet. Blair's car was once again in the shop so he had taken the bus to the station. So involved in his own thoughts and observations, Blair didn't even noticed that Jim hadn't spoken until they reached the loft.

"I said what do you want to do for dinner?" Jim repeated. "No one has been to the grocery store this week," he added in a slightly accusatory tone.

"Was it my turn?" Blair asked.

"I don't know," Jim sighed. "I lost count."

"Riiight."

"I'll go tomorrow. Don't worry about it. I'm sure you'll be going to Conover."

"Do you mind?" Blair asked hopefully.

"Of course not," Jim forced out, trying to smile. "Why would I mind? Just be careful, ok?" I won't be there to protect you.

"Right," Blair said again, as he studied his Sentinel closely. "Pizza?"

Temco's first stop was in an empty room where he was relieved of his meager possessions and searched for weapons. He was left in his filthy undershirt, jeans and socks. Someone took several pictures of him with a Polaroid. The flash left him blinded for a couple of minutes and in pain. A nurse began to ask questions, so he turned his hearing down as far as he could and started once again to focus on his breathing. In and out.

Blood was drawn, the sting of the needle worse than a gun shot, causing a brief set back into near panic. Inandout inandout inandout. When he calmed down he was given a cup and led to a toilet. Someone probably told him to get a urine sample, but he wasn't listening. Couldn't hear. He relieved himself in the urinal without making the proper deposit. If something was said about it, he didn't know or care.

At last he was herded down another hallway. Locks were disengaged and doors opened and closed. He was ushered into another small, empty room right behind the nurse’s station of the unit he had been assigned to. This room had thick padding on the walls, a tiny observation window on the door, and a mattress that completely covered the floor. On top was a single, folded blanket.

Temco gathered the wool blanket into his hands and turned the touch volume down all the way. He wrapped himself in it and lowered himself to the floor, covering his head. He thought about the voice that had saved him and the kind blue eyes that reflected his pain. He wondered what strange story he would hear when at last he could talk again to the one who understood. He turned down the rest of the knobs as far as they would go and breathed. In and out.

Blair sat in the director's office and fidgeted. He hadn't gotten anywhere on the phone, so he'd decided to come over in person as soon as he finished up with the things he absolutely had to do at the university. Even though it was still a long time until visiting hours would begin. One of the Conover administrators remembered him from his undercover operation a couple years back and assumed he was on official police business. Blair hadn't said anything to expunge that assumption, either. The man had gone to find out what he could about the new patient and promised to return soon.

"Mr. Sandburg, I'm afraid there's been a problem with Mr. Temco," the director stated as he came back into the office through a side door. "I understand that an ambulance is on the way." The man was so short he actually looked up at Blair.

"He didn't try to kill himself again did he?" Blair asked anxiously, rising to his feet.

"No, nothing so dramatic. It seems as if he has shut himself down somehow. He was placed in a holding cell so that he could be processed into the system. Now the staff is unable to rouse him, although his blood test came back negative for drugs."

"It's not drugs," Blair murmured to himself.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I need to see him," Blair began cautiously. "I can reach him, I'm sure of it. I was there when they brought him in. He will respond to me."

"I don't understand," the director stated.

"Please. Just give me five minutes. Sending him to the hospital might do more harm than good. It won’t hurt anything to let me try."

"All right," the man gave in a little uneasily, but ready to help the police. "Follow me."

Blair recoiled when he entered the small room, the pungent body odor heightened by the warm, small room made his eyes water. Several people patted and prodded the apparently unconscious Temco, while another held an ammonia capsule under his nose.

"Whoa! Couldn't you at least give him a bath?" Blair complained.

"That was his next stop," the nurse stated defensively. "He never got that far. We were going to let him sleep until morning and then get him cleaned up."

"It's okay," Blair assured offhandedly as he assessed the still figure huddled on the mattress. "Look, I need a few minutes with him."

"Who are you?"

"He's with the police," the director answered. "I promised him that he could see the patient for a minute. Let's back out a little and give him some room."

"I don't like it," an angry looking black man stated.

"It's all right, Gary. Give him a minute and by then the ambulance will be here."

The group backed out one by one and gathered in the doorway. Conscious of his audience, Blair began to speak very softly. At first his words made no impression, so he placed a hand gently on the exposed arm and began a rhythmic, slow circle there. "David, it’s me, Blair. Open your eyes, Buddy. Come on. Listen to my voice. You know what to do. Come on, follow my voice..."

After several long minutes, slowly the eyes opened and then focused on his face. "You're here," David murmured blearily. "I knew you would come." Thankful tears ran down his face but he returned Blair’s enormous smile in kind. He pulled the smaller man into a hug, much to the surprise of the waiting collection of psychiatric professionals gathered at the door.

"David, we need to get you cleaned up, okay?" Blair said smoothly.

"Yeah, okay." With Blair’s help Temco rose unsteadily to his feet and glanced nervously at the crowd watching his every move.

"Where do we need to go for that shower?" Blair inquired, indicating that he would be in attendance as well.

"This way," the nurse instructed, still shaking her head in disbelief. "Somebody want to cancel the ambulance?"

She led them to a large bathroom with open shower stalls along one wall. Not much for privacy. "We thought he was deaf," she whispered to Blair as she turned to leave.

"Oh, he can hear you," Blair assured her, catching David's eye, "when he wants to.”

The big black man joined them in the shower room and helped Blair to disrobe David of his filthy clothing. "I don't know how you did that," he admitted ruefully.

Blair shrugged and smiled gently at the suddenly shy Sentinel. "We just made a connection before, that's all. Listen, we got it, if you just want to stand by the door?"

The man eyed Temco for a minute. "You sure? He's a lot bigger than you are. I understand that he beat up a policeman."

"I take full responsibility," Blair promised. "We're fine, right David?"

"I won't hurt him," David whispered unevenly. "He's my friend."

The orderly nodded and turned around, but didn't leave the room. Blair turned the water on and adjusted it slightly. "David, you should probably turn down the touch dial to start with. You can bring it up as you get used to the water," Blair advised in a low tone. "I’m guessing your senses are still kind of overloaded."

Temco did as he was told and slid under the stream and wet down his skin. Blair took off his outer shirt and laid it down on a bench before grabbing two wash clothes from the linen shelf and wet them both. One he handed to Temco and the other he filled with the liquid soap from the dispenser. "Keep the dial down for awhile, man. I think we're gonna have to scrub some," he said as he began to scour the taller man's back and shoulders. Temco hung his head slightly in shame, but soaped his washrag as well and went to work on the front.

"Why are you doing this?" David asked after a few minutes of uneasy silence and lots of soap.

"Would you rather the other guy helped?" Blair asked, stepping back, suddenly afraid that he had crossed the line. It had never even occurred to him that David might not be comfortable with him in this particular capacity. If for some reason Jim would ever need his help with a shower, he knew he wouldn't hesitate. He realized that in a weird way, he was associating this stranger with his best friend.

"No, don't leave me," Temco blurted out anxiously grasping Blair’s wrist. "I didn't mean the shower. I meant, you know, everything else."

"Oh,” Blair muttered, visibly relaxing a little. “That. I guess now is as good a time to talk about it as any. I doubt we'll get much more privacy than this."

Blair rinsed the now brown wash cloth and hung it on the rail and turned with his back slightly to David to give him at least some semblance of privacy.

"Go on," David urged, scrubbing hard at his arm pits. He recognized that he probably could have found a way to bathe, if it hadn't been so hard on his skin before. Now that he could stand it, he wanted to wash all the grime away.

"David, there are people who are genetically predisposed to have better senses than the rest of us. That's the easiest answer right now. Later I can show you books and tell you all about the job of the Sentinels in ancient tribes. That's what you are; a Sentinel."

"It’s genetic? You mean I've always been this way?" Temco questioned tentatively.

"Yes, but it was most likely dormant. Text book is that you were isolated for a period of time right before your senses came online. Does that sound right?"

"Yeah, when my father died five months ago I went up to his hunting cabin for a month by myself. You know, to get away and think. I needed to be alone for a while to get my head together."

"Then what happened?" Blair prompted. When Temco shut off the water he went to get him a towel.

"I don't know exactly. I couldn't do my job after I got back. I kept having these episodes where I freaked out. And I had headaches, and sometimes I would just shut down completely until someone shook me awake again. Everyone thought that it was the stress over losing my father."

David accepted the towel and dried off quickly, then wrapped it around his waist. Blair stepped aside and allowed him to step out of the shower.

Blair lifted a tangled section of hair. "I think the hair's got to go, man."

"That's fine by me. I look crappy in long hair."

"Hey, uh, Gary," Blair called out, remembering the orderly’s name. "Can we do something about the hair?"

"Sure, when we get him settled we can buzz him. Shave too."

"Great, thanks." Blair turned back to Temco. "They are going to throw me out soon. I need some general information before I go." He flipped out a pad and realized that they had taken his pen before he entered the secure area. "Look, you gotta behave so that they'll move you out of this lock up."

"I'll try. Just stay with me until they shave me. I don't want to go through that alone."

Blair nodded. "I'll stay as long as they'll let me."

A pair of plain blue scrubs, no buttons or straps, were presented to Temco and he gratefully slipped them on. As they exited into the hall the nurse joined them again. "Mr. Sandburg?" she asked, producing a cup. "Do you think you could get him to get us a urine specimen?"

Blair jumped up from the table and rushed to grab one of the bags from his overburdened roommate as he came through the door. "What did you do, man? Buy out the store?" he asked.

"Well, it's getting longer and longer between grocery trips, so I thought we might stock up on the essentials," Jim teased as he slid his armload of bags onto the counter. He glanced briefly at the piles of books and papers strewn around Blair’s laptop on the table.

"I know, I'm sorry,” Blair apologized sheepishly. “I'll try to do better."

"Actually, I'm surprised you're even home. I thought for sure you'd be over at the funny farm."

Blair laughed as he prowled through the groceries and began to sort them, "Well, you know the last time I went there they tried to keep me."

"You didn't go?" Jim asked, almost hopefully.

"No, I went earlier. I was pretty worried so I left school for a little while this morning. It’s a good thing I did though. Temco was completely zoned out when I got there."

Jim sighed and began to help unpack the bags. "Bet that freaked ‘em out.”

“Oh yeah, the ambulance was on the way. Turns out we didn’t need it,” Blair gloated.

“I've been thinking,” Jim changed the subject abruptly. “Doesn't it strike you as a little coincidental that there could be two Sentinels in the same area? Three if you count Alex. I mean, what are the chances?" he asked as Blair opened the fridge and began to pack it with the cold stuff.

"Alex," Blair began with a barely disguised shudder, "was a coincidence. Or fate, or karma, or whatever you want to call it," he said. "David is genetics."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked, shutting the cabinets and folding the paper bags before following Blair to the table.

"I did a little research based on questions David answered for me this morning. It turns out that Isaac and Mary Lamm were David's great grandparents," Blair explained, picking up a piece of paper from the top of the stack and presenting it to Jim with a flourish.

"And?" Jim asked glancing at the document apathetically.

Blair groaned and pushed his hair back with both hands in frustration. "How is it that I know so much more about your ancestry than you do?" he asked, snatching the paper back and shaking it at his dense partner. "Isaac and Mary Lamm were your mother's maternal grandparents. You and David are related."

"Related?" Jim grabbed the paper back and actually looked at it, realizing it was a representation of his own family tree.

"Yeah, like fourth or fifth cousins or something,” Blair grinned. “Distant, but definitely in the same bloodline."

"How did you even think to check something like that?" Jim asked, clearly awed.

"Come on, man. We already know Sentinel abilities are genetic. They don't run in too many families and you both grew up in this general vicinity." Blair’s grin widened mischievously. "Besides, you two look a lot alike."

"No we don't," Jim argued, sounding somewhat offended.

"Yes you do,” Blair countered. “You haven’t seen him since he cleaned up. And now that he's able to eat again, thanks to that little taste dial, I think he'll buff right up. I think we’ll really see a family resemblance then."

"Related,” Jim muttered shaking his head. “Who’d a thought? Do you think that's why I didn't go off the deep end, like I did with Alex?"

"Could be," Blair answered thoughtfully tapping his lip with a finger. "There must be a way we can test that..."

Temco lay on his bunk with his eyes closed and his arm thrown across them. To any outsider observer he appeared to be asleep, unmoving, breathing deeply. No one could know the depth of his concentration as he cast his hearing out for the one sign that his day would mean something. Filtering and discarding the noise of the rest of the world, he searched for the heart beat. He knew it would come, but the wait was hard.

With each visit Blair would explain something more, put another piece into place in the puzzle that had become his life. He would teach him something new and show him how the curse that had nearly destroyed him could, in fact, be a blessing. David would practice each technique for hours after Blair had gone until he mastered it. Twice he had worked himself into a zone that no amount of shaking from the staff at the facility could break. Each time, they had eventually called Blair, and he had come. Once had been in the middle of the night and the other time Blair had been teaching a class, but he’d never complained about the inconvenience. He had just come and made everything better.

Almost three weeks had passed since David had lost all hope and decided the only peace he would find would be the everlasting kind. He remained in the mental hospital because the doctors had been unable to come up with a definitive diagnosis even though he’d been for the most part a perfect patient. He ate when he was told to eat, sat where he was told to sit, but he spoke only to Blair.

Only once since he had been committed had his friend not come to visit. It had been the longest twenty-four hours of his life, and it had caused quite a set back. He became fearful, desperate, and damn near catatonic before Blair had come the next day, explaining that his car had broken down again and he had arrived after visiting hours were over. David knew this to be the truth; he had literally cried as he listened to his friend beg to be allowed a few minutes with him before being turned away.

When Blair showed up earlier than usual the next day, it was almost back to square one. David couldn’t control his senses and seemed perpetually on the verge of a zone. He had finally gathered Blair up in a bear hug and refused to let go. Somehow Blair understood his staggering need and spoke gently and patiently but didn’t try to pull away. When visiting hours were stretched to the maximum, staff members had had to pry David's hands away and hold him down. Blair had protested but reluctantly left, looking back once as a restrained David tearfully called out after him as he walked away.

At last! David smiled as the blessed rhythm sounded lightly in his ears, entering the front doors of the building. He leapt from the bed and ran all the way from his room down the hall to the common area where visitors were allowed.

"Walk," a nurse admonished from her post at the desk in the minimal security area. "Watch this," she said to the newly appointed doctor who sat next to her, reading Temco's chart. "I predict a nice looking young man with shoulder length, curly brown hair, blue eyes, and the most amazing smile will approach that door in the next minute or so."

"What?" the doctor asked looking at her over the top of his glasses.

"Just watch."

Within a minute the door rang and the nurse buzzed the opening mechanism after a brief glance at the monitor to see her prediction in the flesh. Blair walked through the door with a wave toward the nurse and smiled brilliantly at Temco, who waited impatiently, wringing his hands behind the white line that patients weren't allowed to cross. But he did cross it. He crossed it to hug the smaller man, who returned the hug fondly before ushering the patient out of no man's land and into the lounge. They settled into a corner table, side by side and began to converse quietly.

"How did you know that?" the doctor asked suspiciously. "He must visit at the same time every day."

"Nope, he comes here every day, sometimes twice a day, but never at the same time. Even so, Mr. Temco always knows when he arrives. We call it the two minute warning. He's never wrong."

"That's amazing. That must be the Mr. Sandburg mentioned in the chart. Is it true that he's the only one Temco interacts with?"

"That's right. As far as I know he's never spoken to any of the staff unless Mr. Sandburg is with him. Even some of his old friends from the fire department came by, but he didn't give them the time of day. Only Blair."

"Jim, don't look for me at the station today," Blair mentioned as he dropped a couple pieces of bread into the toaster.

"Oh," Jim grumbled, not really surprised. "Going to Conover again?"

"I go there every day, you know that," Blair stated as he turned to look at his gloomy friend.

"Yeah, I noticed. But you can usually spare me a few hours in the afternoon."

"I know, man. I'm sorry. This is important. I want to go to the fire station and talk to some of David's friends. Hey, why don't you come with me?"

"Why would I want to do that?" Jim sniffed haughtily.

"Come on, Jim,” Blair wheedled. “We have to find a permanent guide for David."

"What?" Jim almost spilled his coffee as he abruptly turned in his chair to face his partner. "I thought...I thought that you were going to, you know."

"Yeah, right," Blair grinned, "Let's see, I'll do school in the morning, chase criminals in the afternoon, and put out fires at night. Not a problem, I don't really sleep all that much now anyway."

Jim sighed audibly and ran a hand over his face. He smiled the first real smile in weeks. "I'll come with you," he offered, wanting to expedite the finding of Temco's new guide.

Blair narrowed his eyes at his friend, just as the toast popped up. He ignored it. "Wait a minute. That was quite a turn around. You didn't think that I was going to try to guide both of you. You thought I was gonna throw you over for the new Sentinel," he deduced.

Jim's smile faded slowly. "I thought you might think that I don't need you any more," he answered honestly.

"Why didn't you say something instead of pouting for three weeks?" Blair queried with a growl.

"I don't know." Jim swallowed self consciously, feeling like a guilty schoolboy.

"Are you ever going to learn to trust me?" Blair asked, hurt and anger evident in his eyes.

"I do trust you," Jim swore adamantly. "And I still need you. I'm afraid I'll always need you."

"You're afraid you'll always need me,” Blair parroted. “That's the problem."

"Yes," Jim admitted reluctantly. "But I'm even more afraid that you'll leave."

"Jim, I'm in this for the long haul. Don't ever doubt that. I'm here ‘til you kick me out.”

"Again," Jim supplied.

"Hey, you said it, I didn't…" Sandburg pointed out harshly.

"Let's not do this,” Jim interrupted trying to calm the conversation. “I don’t want to fight, but I am relieved that you're looking for someone to take over with Temco. I admit it."

Blair took a couple of cleansing breathes and started to butter his cold toast. "It's not going to be that simple, Jim. First I have to find someone that we trust. It's not just David's secret here. It's also yours. If we want to keep you safe, we have to take care of David, too."

"I hadn't thought of that,” Jim admitted softly. “Does Temco know about me?"

Blair thought for a minute before shaking his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure how much he remembers from the police department. He was pretty far gone then. I never even mentioned you to him after that, just to be safe. If we do find someone..."

"When," Jim corrected optimistically.

"When we do find someone… suitable, and we get them to agree to take on the job, I'll still have to train them. But that might still work out. I'm off for the summer. That will give me time to work with them and still have time for you."

"Call me when you're ready to go and I'll pick you up at the university," Jim said, the smile returning to his face.

"Mr. Temco, please sit down. Do you remember me? I'm Dr. Douglas. I spoke to you briefly yesterday. I'll be taking over your care."

David rose from the floor and sat obediently on the edge of his bed, but gave no other indication he had heard the doctor. He had been in the middle of doing push ups and the doctor was disrupting his routine. Blair had mentioned once that he looked as if he had once been athletic, and in fact he had. Being able to eat again had given him the energy to work out. Now he did pushups and sit-ups everyday, and when allowed, worked out on free weights, supervised of course, in the gym, but never during visiting hours. He didn't want to miss a minute of his time with Blair.

"I'm very interested in this relationship you seem to have developed with the Mr. Sandburg who comes to see you everyday. He's with the police, is that correct?"

At the mention of his friend, David looked up at the doctor and made eye contact for the first time. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead with his arm, but still didn’t speak.

"That's what I thought," the doctor murmured. "I'm sorry, but I'm suspending his visitation privileges for a while. I think it would be in your best interests if Mr. Sandburg wasn't so dominant in your life right now."

"No!" Temco shouted as he rose to his feet and bought himself a ticket back to maximum security.

"What about that Danny kid?" Jim prompted, anxiously checking out his too quiet friend as they drove away from the firehouse toward Conover.

"I don't think so. I didn't like his attitude. Besides, he's not even one of the ones who went to see David. I don't think he knows him all that well. He even thought that you were David for a minute before you turned around."

"No he didn't," Jim said.

"Yeah, he did," Blair argued. "You didn't see his face when he came in."

"Well who did you like then?"

"I'm not sure," Blair tried to hide his disappointment in the other firemen. "I need to run it by David before I do anything else. Someone told me that he had a girlfriend before. Maybe I'll check her out, too."

"You haven't told him yet?"

"No. He's still kind of dependent on me."

"I don't think that's going to change, Chief. He's not going to give you up willingly. God knows I wouldn't in his place."

Blair couldn't help but spare a small smile for his partner.

Jim decided to wait in the lobby while Blair went in to visit Temco. After only a few minutes he picked up his partner's voice. It wasn't hard as Blair was shouting at the top of his lungs. Jim got up and followed the sound. He rounded the corner and found Blair getting in an older man's very bruised up face.

"What's going on?" Jim asked and caught his smaller counterpart by the arm and eased him away from the flustered man.

"They won't let me in, Jim," Blair supplied excitedly, swinging an arm towards a set of double doors.

"I'm trying to explain to Mr. Sandburg that Mr. Temco has had a set back."

"What kind of set back?" Jim asked calmly, for once being the voice of reason.

"He had a violent episode earlier today," the man justified, indicating his raccoon eyes and broken nose.

"Yeah," Blair practically shouted, "After they told him he couldn't see me anymore."

"He's been moved to a more secure area."

"He still has the right to see me if he wants to," Blair declared.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken. Mr. Temco is now a ward of the state. He has no rights, and you are not family. I wouldn't push the issue if I were you. You don't have a legal leg to stand on."

Blair stood and glared at the man for a minute. Just as Jim assumed they would be leaving, Sandburg broke out into a deceptively wide smile. "So, if a family member showed up, they would have the right to see David?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose so. But no one has come forward as of yet."

"I'd like you to meet James Ellison. Mr. Temco's cousin," Blair said triumphantly, sweeping his hand towards Jim.

"Is that right?" the doctor frowned at Ellison, not buying a word of it.

Jim blinked. "Actually, I suppose it is."

"I have the genealogical charts to prove it if you'd like to see them," Blair offered. "Now, can Mr. Ellison see his cousin? Or should we get a court order?"

"Fine," the man snipped. "But you can wait in the lobby," he added, pointing at Blair.

"What do you want me to tell him?" Jim asked.

"Just find out what happened and make sure he's alright. Tell him I'm sorry."

"Blair, this isn't your fault."

"Are you coming or not?" the impatient man asked as he swiped his key card, bypassing the numbered touchpad, to open the door.

"David, I don't know if you can hear me or not," Blair said as he walked around the building and stood outside of the fence where he thought the maximum security area was located. "Listen, my friend Jim is coming to see you. He is your cousin, I'll explain that to you later. If any one asks, tell them Jim Ellison is your cousin. Okay? Okay. I'm here, buddy." He moved further down the fence and repeated the lecture.

Temco lay on his bed with his arms restrained. His left hip still burned where the nurse had stuck him with a needle as the orderlies pried him away from Dr. Douglas, the man who had caused his world to turn upside down all over again. Whatever had been in the syringe had caused everything to explode into sensation before slowing to an unearthly crawl. He still felt disoriented and sick. He had everything but his hearing turned most of the way down as he breathed. In and out. Just like Blair had taught him. He hadn't had to resort to breathing exercises in a couple of weeks. Thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, he heard the familiar cadence that beckoned to him. Cocking his head to better hear it, he realized it was coming from outside. He smiled as he listened to the voice he so longed for.

"David, it's Dr. Douglas. Don't worry, I'm all right. I've brought you a visitor. Do you know this man?" Douglas asked, then turned to Ellison. "See, he only responds to your friend. We haven't been able to get anything out of him. That's why we need to separate them for awhile. He needs to communicate with others as well."

"Cousin Jim," Temco said as he turned toward the surprised Sentinel. "It's so good to see you."

"David." Jim smiled when he realized Blair was somewhere below feeding information to the man. He moved to the window and furtively waved off his partner. The lawn of the looney bin was not a good place for one sided conversations. "Are the restraints necessary?" he asked turning back to the doctor.

"Yes, I'm afraid they are. For now."

"I see. Can we have a minute?"

The doctor muttered under his breath as he backed out of the room and closed the door, causing both the men in the room to chortle abruptly.

"Who's a son of a bitch, me or you?" Temco asked lightly.

"I think he was talking about Blair," Jim laughed.

"You're one, too," Temco said, more seriously.

"A son of a bitch?" Jim asked, taken aback.

"No. A Sentinel."

Jim paused and looked out the window to watch his partner two stories below pace back and forth along the fence. He could see how cold he was, even in the growing dusk. Yet the kid stayed where he thought he was needed. "How do you know?" he asked turning back to his new found kin.

"There, but for the grace of God, go I," Temco quoted.

"Right."

"You said that Blair belongs to you."

"He's my Guide."

"I need him," Temco urged desperately.

"So do I. He's trying to find someone else for you," Jim explained gently.

"No! You're lying, he wouldn't do that to me. No one else understands. No one else makes me feel like this is okay, like I don't have to kill myself to get some peace."

"I understand, Temco. I really do. But I had him first. There is a bond between us. He won't leave me," Jim added getting a little defensive. "You have to let go. If you won't talk to anyone but Blair, they're never going to let you out of here. You're going to have to cooperate."

"I can smell him on you," Temco said, closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath.

Jim bristled, the animal instincts of the other man making him reflect uncomfortably on himself. "I've got to go. Later, cuz." Jim stormed out of the room, shaken that someone else depended so much on the one he needed as well.

"But he's okay?" Blair tried to clarify, turning in his seat to face Jim.

"Physically, he's okay, I guess. He shocked the shit out of that doctor when he started to talk to us, though. Why doesn't he talk to anyone but you?"

"I'm not sure. I knew he wasn't very communicative, but hey, neither are you. I didn't realize it was such a problem."

"I communicate," Jim said defensively.

Blair shot him a 'yeah, right' look just as the radio came to life. Shots fired.

"That's not far," Jim replied as the address was given. He hit the lights and picked up the radio mic. Blair grabbed the seat as the truck spun around to go back the way it had come.

No sooner was Jim gone that Temco made up his mind to leave. When Dr. Douglas returned to his room, David promised to talk to him at length if he would undo the restraints. Stupid man. He covered up the doctor and went to the door. He listened until the coast was clear and slipped out into the hall. Using the doctor's key card was easier than he thought it should be, but he went with it anyway. He was on one of the most secure levels, but not the criminal one. The area would be nearly impossible for a normal person to escape from, but it wasn't built to hold a Sentinel. Especially not one who spent every spare moment of every day practicing and honing his skills. He didn't know what he was going to say when he got there, but he had to see Blair.

"Stay in the truck," Jim ordered as he slammed on the brakes at the mouth of an alley. He slid out from behind the wheel, leaving the driver's side door open, and disappeared into the inky blackness where there should have been a working street light.

Blair listened to the radio as the backup unit responded to Ellison's terse request just prior to exiting the vehicle. Three shots rang out and Blair flinched with each one. He grabbed the radio and shouted for an ambulance before he bolted from the truck and tore down the alley. He didn't know how he knew Jim was injured, he just did. Without a thought for his own safety, he ran toward the crumpled figure on the ground. Kneeling next to him, he gently rolled Jim over onto his back.

"Chief, get my gun," Ellison instructed shakily. "It's right there."

Blair retrieved Jim's gun with trembling hands and stuck it into the back of his jeans under his jacket. "Ambulance is on the way, man," Blair informed his partner as he opened the detective's shirt to expose the wound. He placed his hands firmly over the dark spot which grew larger by the minute with blood.

"I thought I told you to wait in the truck," Jim rasped.

"Did you? Are you sure?" Blair asked, his voice rough with emotion.

Jim winced as he tried to move. "Almost... certain of it."

"Well, they say memory is the second thing to go, you know, after hair, old man. Lay still."

"I'll show you old man, I can still kick your butt," Jim coughed and held onto his friend's arms desperately as Blair applied pressure to the wound.

"Jim, Megan can kick my butt," Blair declared, fighting back the tears that threatened.

"You're right," Jim chuckled weakly, "Don't make me laugh. Hurts."

"Sorry, big guy. Oh, wait. I hear sirens."

"It's back up. Ambulance is still a couple blocks away." Jim cocked his head and listened. Something else caught his attention. A rapid heartbeat in the shadows. The sound became muffled until all he could hear was the rush of his own blood inside of his head. His vision blurred and he reached out for his focal point, but even Blair's heart beat couldn't ground him. He sank into unconsciousness, fighting every step of the way.

A black and white skidded up to the alley, nose to nose with Jim's truck. Blair whispered despondently to his Sentinel, unknowing if he was passed out or zoned. Or worse. He felt with trembling fingers along the big man's throat.

"Freeze, police!"

"Where's the damned ambulance?" Blair shouted frantically.

"I said freeze, punk." The officer grabbed Blair roughly by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

"That's Detective Ellison, he's been shot! We need an ambulance now!" Blair explained desperately. "I'm his..."

"Shut up." He was thrown face first against one of the buildings that lined the pitch black alley. The young cop kicked his feet apart and began to frisk him while the other man knelt by Jim to take a pulse. "Gun!" shouted the rookie. The older officer left Jim's side and rushed to his partner's defense, weapon drawn and leveled at the wild anthropologist.

"Don't leave him!" Blair ranted as he turned abruptly, unfazed by the gun at his head. The first officer dropped Jim's gun that he had been in the process of removing from Blair's waist band. When the weapon hit the ground, it discharged into the alley, causing everyone to duck instinctively. Blair pushed his way past the stunned policeman, fighting his way to his partner's side. The night stick came down on his head just as a large blur moved out of the shadows. Blair twisted as he fell and landed on his back, less than a foot from his friend. As he turned his head, the last thing he saw was Jim's pale, still face.

Officer Smith realized his mistake as he recognized the slumped observer. His horror was as short lived as the cry of shock and pain from the over-anxious new kid. Before he could wheel around he heard his own breath rush from his lungs with the force that knocked him to the ground. As he gasped for air, unable to move, he watched through the darkness with fascination as Ellison gently picked up his fallen comrade and loaded him into the old truck. His mind told him his eyes were wrong. Ellison lay on the ground near death in a puddle of blood. But the memory of him backing out and driving away was etched into his brain.

Simon picked his way along the haphazardly parked emergency vehicles that extended from the alley out into the street. Lights now flooded the scene, making the congealing blood spilled on the ground appear black. "What's the story?" he asked Brown, who stepped forward to meet him with a wide-eyed look.

"It's the strangest thing," Brown began. "Smith and Godfrey got a call for backup. When they arrived there was a man on the ground and another kneeling down beside him. They found a gun on the second man. A struggled ensued and a shot was fired. Smith recognized Sandburg after he hit him over the head with his baton."

"Why would Sandburg have a gun, let alone fire on police officers?" Simon asked worriedly. Something didn't add up.

Brown shook his head. "It gets weirder. Both Smith and Godfrey were attacked from behind. Smith says he saw Ellison put Sandburg into his truck and drive away. He swears to it."

"You don't believe him?"

"That's why I called you down here. Ellison was taken to the hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest. They don't know if he'll survive," he added urgently.

Simon took a deep breath. "And Sandburg?"

"Nowhere to be found. Smith swears by his story. He had the wind knocked out of him, but he didn't hit his head."

Bits and pieces of memory mixed with the dream. Blair groaned with the nightmare vision of Jim collapsed on the ground. He stood over him holding a gun, but was forced away. He fought and struggled against an invisible barrier that kept him from his Sentinel. His frustration and anger grew until he couldn't hold it any longer and released his anguished cry.

"Shh. It's okay now. I'm here." The voice was calming and familiar. A gentle hand stroked his face. Never opening his eyes, Blair drifted back to oblivion, trusting that he was safe. It was only a dream.

Voices.

"Mr. Ellison, you're waking up now. What's his first name again?"

"James."

"James, open your eyes. That's it, open your eyes and I'll take that tube out of your throat. Do you want the tube out?"

Lights. Something choking...

"That's it. Open your mouth."

As he opened his mouth, the flexible piece of plastic was pulled from his airway. He coughed and was rewarded by a suction catheter being stuck into the back of his throat. It was removed quickly, taking the secretions in his mouth with it. A soft mask was placed over his nose and mouth, smelling like a new shower curtain and forcing oxygen into his face. He tried to push it away, but his hands were stretched out to his sides and tied, as if he were on a cross.

"It's all right, James. Your surgery is over. Just relax. That's it," the soft voice crooned.

Jim tried to focus his eyes on the blurry, upside down face above him. It was covered by a mask on the bottom and a blue hat on the top. The only feature showing was the pair of blue eyes between. "Blair?" he croaked out past a sore throat.

"What did he say?"

"I'm not sure. Just rest, James. We're going to go to the recovery room for a while. When you wake up a little more we can give you something for pain."

The voice wasn't right, the eyes weren't right. Even in the drug induced haze, Jim knew his Guide was a long way away.

When Blair finally woke up, he lay on the bed careful not to move too quickly, as the pain in his head was intense. He watched as Jim moved around in the kitchen with a slight limp. How did Jim get hurt? He couldn't remember, but he appeared to be alright for the most part.  As far as Blair could tell anyway, his vision was a little blurry.

"Hey, you're awake."

Blair's brow creased as the voice registered. "David?" he asked. "Where are we?" The big man settled on the edge of the bed and placed an ice pack gently under Blair's head, right on the sore spot. "Ow," he complained.

"We're at my dad's hunting cabin. We need to stay here for awhile, at least until you're feeling better. Then we can decide what to do."

"You're hurt?"

"Just a scratch. I got it going over the fence."

"You escaped?  Oh, David, that is so not good. They're gonna be looking for you." Blair tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness and pain forced him back to the bed.

"No one will find us here. What do you remember?"

"Jim! Oh my God, is Jim okay?"

"Easy, Blair. Tell me what you remember and then I'll try to fill in the blanks for you," Temco urged reasonably.

"We responded to a call. Shots fired. It was right down the street from Conover," Blair supplied. "Jim got out of the truck and went into the alley, it was pretty dark, so I couldn't see exactly what happened. There were more shots and I went into the alley and found him. Then I have this picture in my head of me standing over him with a gun in my hand. I don't remember anything after that."

"Do you remember the policemen trying to arrest you?" David asked.

"No. Yes. Vaguely. They thought I shot Jim?"

"That's right. They're looking for you, too. They want to pin Jim's murder on you."

"Murder?" Blair asked, fighting past the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Blair. He died. I didn't hear any heartbeat," David said sympathetically.

Searching for any sign he might have misunderstood, Blair stared dumbly into David's face, the familiarity there both comforting and disturbing. "He can't be dead," Blair exclaimed. "I still feel him."

"I'm so sorry," Temco soothed as he gathered the confused younger man into his arms.

Jim wrestled with the pain dial but he was unable to reset it. He didn't want to be completely pain free, all he asked for was a little mitigation. The morphine didn't last very long and provided minimal relief at best. He needed Sandburg. He needed the voice that when it commanded the dial to move, it actually did. As near as he could tell, it had been two days and Blair had not been in to see him. Not once. No one had, he had been critical for all of that time and the rules had been strictly obeyed for once. That in itself worried him. 

Sandburg was an expert when it came to circumventing any rules that kept him from his goals, and hospital rules were among his favorite to break. A niggling feeling in the back of his mind told him Blair was with David. The other Sentinel had been in crisis, too. Blair had sworn he wasn't leaving Jim, but all evidence was to the contrary. The curtain of his ICU cubical moved and Jim stared anxiously as Simon came through.

"Jim," Simon sighed. "They got the kid who shot you. It was a ricochet. He fired a couple rounds at a brick wall and one of them caught you in the shoulder."

"Where's Sandburg?" Jim asked, ignoring the other information. It wasn't important. "I need him here," he added with a pleading tone of voice Simon had never heard from the man. His eyes spoke of disbelief and abandonment, which tore at Simon's heart.

Forced to cut to the chase, Simon settled in the chair next to the bed. "It's a little strange, Jim. He's disappeared."

"What?"

"The night you were shot, uniformed officers swear they saw you load him up into your truck and drive away. There's been no sign of him or your vehicle since."

"Temco," Jim sighed. He was right. Blair was with Temco. "He went willingly?" he asked, the emotional pain now almost as great as the physical.

"He was unconscious at the time."

"He was hurt? That's why he hasn't come to see me. I couldn't believe he wouldn't find a way to be here."

"He'd be here if he could," Simon agreed. "You know that, Jim."

"I thought I did," Jim answered morosely. "Find David Temco. When you find him, you'll find Blair. He'll be okay. He's got to be okay."

"Is there anything I can get for you?" Simon offered as the nurse that appeared at the curtain tapped her watch.

"Yeah, Sandburg."

Simon sat at his desk and read through the file with a frown. Jim Ellison wasn't a man who ever asked for anything, but he had asked for the thing he needed the most right now. And Banks intended to do everything he could to get it for him. Major Crime had already put in some heavy duty overtime since Sandburg's disappearance, but now they had a lead. One provided by Jim himself; David Temco. The name hadn't meant much to Simon at the hospital, but as soon as he picked up the file, everything snapped into place. 

Temco was the homeless man who had put Rafe on desk duty for a couple of weeks. He was the man Sandburg had taken an interest in almost immediately. Ellison had told him that he probably didn't want to know what was going on at the time, so Simon had let it go. Now, with a little detective work of his own, he realized Blair had continued his interest in the man, even though he had been kept locked up at Conover. In fact, he had escaped the facility the night Jim had been shot, only minutes after Ellison and Sandburg had left there. Now all they had to do was figure out where Temco would go with Sandburg. And why.

Blair sat by the window huddled in a blanket and watched the early season snow fall. They were pretty high in the mountains he surmised indifferently. He felt numb inside, guessing he was in denial. Jim couldn't be dead. He would know, wouldn't he? Wouldn't he be able to feel it? His vision was slowly clearing and he could move around some now without too much pain. In his head anyway. His heart was another matter. And then there was David. 

David's need for him was so great that in his time of mourning it almost overwhelmed him. Jim had never needed him to such an extent, had in fact pushed him away on many occasions when Blair had only wanted to help. But David had been so far gone by the time Blair reached him it must have seemed as if he had done something miraculous when in fact he had only talked him through the rough spots; given him a little control. Just like Jim, David had learned to use his gifts in his own way, with only gentle direction from Blair. At least that's the way Blair saw it.

Temco studied his only friend from the kitchen. Ellison had said he had a bond with Blair and Blair seemed to be taking Jim's death very hard.  At the same time, he questioned David about it often, as if he didn't quite believe Jim was really dead. David wondered if Blair felt the same way about him as he did for Jim. He wondered if Blair knew how much he meant to him. He ached to have the same kind of relationship that the other Sentinel had shared with the Guide. Now that he had full access to Blair twenty-four hours a day, he couldn't go back to the way it was before. Even if Ellison wasn't dead, he wouldn't have a Guide anymore. And as far as David was concerned, that was worse than death. The soup began to boil, and David ladled some up. He gathered some crackers and a spoon and carried it carefully to Blair.

"David," Blair started gently as his dinner was served to him. "I need to get back to Cascade."

"We can't do that," David said calmly as he sat to watch his Guide eat, as he always did when Blair was able to keep anything down.

"Why not?"

"Because you'll go to jail and I'll go back to the mental institution. You know I don't belong there."

Did Temco belong in the nut house? Blair hadn't thought about it much lately. He wasn't crazy exactly, but he wasn't all there either. The trauma of his senses coming on line hadn't been completely benign. David had serious issues that Blair wasn't so sure he could deal with on his own, plus he was starting to feel like a prisoner. Or a lab rat. He never had a moment of privacy, and David wanted to know his every thought, share his every emotion. Blair knew he had to get away and get back to town. Besides, Jim would be worried. Where did that thought come from? It was more than just denial, Blair felt deep in his heart that Jim was not dead.

"I have to find out what happened to Jim," he said at last, not really intending to say it out loud.

"I told you what happened," David said icily. Blair had never heard that tone from Temco before, and it left him feeling a little uneasy.

"Well, then if I can go to a phone..."

"No! No phone." Temco jumped up from the table and moved around the room in a fit of panic.

"David, I won't tell anyone where we are," Blair soothed. "I just need to make a few arrangements. You know, I teach at the university..."

"Not anymore. Now you're my Guide. That's what you do. You won't ever leave me, not for a minute," Temco raged, suddenly becoming quiet and still. He grabbed Blair from behind in a rough hug and held on tightly. "I'll die before I let you go," he whispered. "Or we'll die together."

Jim sighed. Simon had brought him the pillow off Sandburg's bed. He didn't actually say that's where it came from, but Jim knew. He could smell his Guide the second Banks had come through the door with it. How Simon had known was a mystery to Jim. But it helped, Jim thought as he clutched it to his chest and breathed in the essence of Blair. As he did he tried the stubborn pain dial in his head. To his relief, it moved. There was still no word on Sandburg's whereabouts, though, and that wore heavily on Jim's peace of mind. But there was less pain now. The doctor said physically, he was getting stronger every day. They even moved him to a private room, but he was still weak.

"Shit," Blair whispered under his breath as the bed groaned under his weight as he shifted to the edge of the mattress.

"What? What's wrong?" Temco's eyes opened and he rolled over to look up at Blair from his pallet on the floor next to Blair's bed. He couldn't sleep if he wasn't close to his Guide.

"Nothing's wrong," Blair sighed and lay back on the bed. He should have known he wouldn't be able to sneak past a Sentinel, even a sleeping one. After all, he was the only living expert on the subject. And this particular Sentinel kept one eye and one ear on him at all times. He smelled him a lot, too, although he probably wouldn't readily admit to it. Blair had tried for hours the day before to get David to zone out on something. The problem was Temco refused to focus 100% on anything except for Blair. Even then he instinctively used more than one sense at a time. Blair would have been fascinated by the concept if being the object of it didn't freak him out so badly.

"Does your head hurt?" David asked with concern, breaking Blair's train of thought.

"Yeah, a little," Blair admitted.

"I'll fix you some tea," David offered as he sat up and reached a hand for Blair's forehead.

"We're out," Blair said, pulling away from the touch.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I guess we need to make a run for supplies. Except I don't have any money."

Blair fought to keep his heart beat steady in his growing excitement. He swallowed before speaking. "That's okay, I have some cash. Maybe we can go in the morning."

"Okay," David said sleepily brushing Blair's hair out of his face. "We're not going to stay here much longer anyway."

Blair smiled convincingly, he hoped, knowing that David studied him intensely in the dark. "Whatever you say," he said and closed his eyes, enduring the caress on his forehead.

When David went out to warm up the truck and clear the thin layer of snow away from the windshield, Blair dug through his backpack for a pen. He tossed his destroyed cell phone back inside with a sigh and pulled out a felt tip marker. Pulling out his emergency one hundred dollar bill, he quickly wrote a note on it.

I'm being held against my will in the mountains. Please call Captain Simon Banks at the Cascade PD.

He signed and dated the note and pocketed the pen. If he got the chance he would update it with a location. If he ever found out where they were. Folding the bill carefully so that none of the ink showed, he slipped it back into his wallet. He was putting his jacket on as Temco came back inside.

"What are you doing?" David asked.

"You're leaving me here?" Blair countered in disbelief. He hadn't considered that a possibility since Temco kept him closer with each passing day.

"I don't know," David said and began to pace the room nervously. He hadn't given it much thought, but now he was hit full force with separation anxiety. "Do you promise that you won't try anything?" he asked. "Or we'll just have to make do with what we've got here at the cabin. Or we could go ahead and leave." His indecision was evident as he struggled with his choices.

"Hey, David. We're a team, right? Where would I go?" Blair soothed placidly, playing up to the agitated man's insecurity.

"Yeah, a team," Temco agreed and pulled his Guide in for a hug.

The ride down the mountain didn't take as long as Blair feared it might. They were closer in than he first thought. He distracted Temco with stories of ancient Sentinels and their Guides, filling in the historic gaps with his own imagination. David soaked up his words and turned grinning to him many times during the trip, often reaching a hand to pat Blair's leg or grasp his arm. Definitely the honeymoon phase, Blair reasoned to himself. Creepy, but much better than the homicidal phase he had witnessed not so long ago. He wanted Temco's mind far from his upcoming escape attempt, he never wanted to hear that cold threatening tone of voice from the man again. Blair had no doubt if he found him out the fireman would follow through with his murder-suicide threat.

Soon they pulled off the snow covered dirt ruts they had been following and turned onto a paved road. Shortly after that a little hamlet sprung up around the road. They passed a sign that read 'The Trading Post' as they rode into town. David pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He sat silently behind the wheel for a minute, once again plagued by indecision.

After several minutes Blair asked quietly. "Do you want me to wait in the truck? I understand if you don't trust me. There are some handcuffs under the seat."

"What?" David asked as he looked at Blair in surprise. "It's not that I don't trust you, I just don't want to take any chances."

"It's okay, I really do understand," Blair bluffed and reached under the seat to find Jim's extra set of cuffs. He pulled them out and handed them to Temco. "Here, you can still hear me in the store. I won't be that far away."

"Don't be silly," David said, trying to sound nonchalant but missing by a mile. "Let's go." He pocketed the cuffs as he opened his door.

Blair popped open his door and followed his captor inside with a self-satisfied grin on his face. The store was small and quaint, with little in the way of choices. Basics for hunters mostly. They wandered up and down the aisles together with a hand basket, discussing potential purchases quietly, as funds were limited. Starting to feel a little disoriented, Blair leaned slightly on Temco. He settled on some plain old Lipton's, as that was the only tea available. As they neared the register Blair sought out the eyes of the girl sitting behind the counter. She smiled sweetly at the two men and began to ring up their supplies.

"You're new around here," she said conversationally to Blair.

"Yeah," David replied and casually stepped between Blair and the counter to prohibit any further contact with his Guide. "You okay? Your heart beat is up a little," David whispered to Blair worriedly.

"Yeah, I just need to rest, I think."

Blair gently nudged the big man aside as the girl announced the total and began to bag up the groceries. He held the folded bill in his hand until the very last minute. As she took the money Blair captured Temco with his gaze and turned a hundred watt smile on the unsuspecting man. It had the desired effect as David tuned out the rest of the world, including the slight gasp from the clerk as she read the note. She quickly slid it into the drawer before Temco could see it and counted out Blair's change.

"Thank you," Blair breathed as he turned his attention back to the girl and winked at her. David gathered the two large bags, leaving the smaller one for Blair to carry. Blair nodded solemnly at the clerk as he headed out behind David, swaying slightly as he went. The girl followed as well, hugging her sweater tightly around her as she stood on the covered porch. She smiled and waved as the blue and white truck drove away. As soon as they were out of sight, she rushed back into the store, repeating the license plate number over and over to herself in her head.

Blair leaned back against the seat. His head was throbbing now and he felt a little sick, from the tension, or manipulating David, or just from moving around so much, he didn't know. He slept most of the way back to the isolated cabin.

"Jim, we found him," Simon said without preamble as he entered Ellison's room. "At least we know what general area he's in."

"Is he okay?" Jim asked, grunting as he tried to sit up too fast.

Simon pushed him back down with a hand on his un-bandaged side and raised the head of the bed instead with a push of a button. "I got a call just now from a sheriff up in the hills north of town. Two men were seen in a trading post in a little town called Trent this morning. They matched Sandburg and Temco's descriptions, and they were in your truck."

"Where are they now?"

"They were headed east when they left, the official search hasn't started yet. Sandburg gave this to the clerk." Simon handed a faxed copy of the note to his detective.

Jim gripped it tightly in his hands. "Good move, kid," he sighed.

"He's pretty sharp, all right," Simon agreed with a grin. "But you don't have to tell him I said that."

Jim's brow furrowed for a minute. "Simon, Temco's a Sentinel," he said at last.

"I know," Simon answered solemnly. "At least that's what I thought."

Jim didn't question his boss. Simon was pretty sharp, too. "No one will be able to get close to them."

"What do we do?"

"I'll go," Jim said.

"You're still peeing through a catheter, Jim. You are not strong enough to go hiking around up in the mountains. Hell, they've already had snow up there."

Jim reluctantly nodded his head. Simon was right, but that didn't make him feel any better. "If someone gets too close, it might spook Temco. If he runs he'll take Sandburg with him. We may never find them," he said.

"I'll tell the sheriff to keep it low key for now," Simon assured.

Jim sat thoughtfully for a few minutes before he asked, "Someone actually saw Blair, right?"

"Yeah, the clerk at the store said she saw him."

"He was all right? What did she say?"

"She said that he was cute, and that he flirted with her," Simon supplied with a groan.

Jim lay back on his pillow and smiled a little. If Blair was still charming the ladies, he was okay.

"Wake up, Blair. We're home."

"Jim?" Blair asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes.

"No. It's David," came the terse reply.

"Sorry," Blair sighed as he sat up and looked around. They were back at the cabin and David was gathering up all of the groceries this time. He slammed the driver's side door with a kick and stormed into the cabin, slipping slightly on the icy steps in his haste.

"Geez," Blair mumbled. "I said I was sorry." He climbed out of the pickup and held on to the door for a minute, waiting for the sudden nausea to pass. When he could move without feeling like he was going to puke he trudged through the snow towards the porch. He knew he had a concussion, David told him one of the cops had hit him with a baton. But shouldn't it be better by now? It had been what? Four days? Five? Of course most of that time he had been flat on his back. The trip to the store had simply worn him out. He was glad to have a minute to himself, even though he knew Temco would still be listening to him even if he was pissed off. So he gave him something to listen to. His legs felt shaky as he climbed the steps. He made it all the way to the top before he slipped.

David put the supplies on the counter and tried to shake off his anger. He realized Blair couldn't really help it. He had been with the other Sentinel for a long time, he supposed. And he didn't feel all that well, either. The crunch of the snow was slow and unsteady, but the heart beat was too fast. Blair was muttering about stubborn, jealous Sentinels almost comically. David would have laughed if he hadn't been the target of Blair's ire. He swallowed his anger and decided to help his struggling Guide back into the cabin. As he opened the door, he watched in horror as Blair fell from the top step and tumbled back to the ground, striking his head on a large rock at the bottom.

Rushing pell mell down the stairs David dropped down to Blair's side. He carefully log rolled him, supporting his neck and back, praying there was no further damage. 

"Oh, God. Blair. Wake up. Please don't leave me," Temco whispered as he pulled up one eye lid and then the other. The pupils were uneven, and the right one was slow to react to light. As a fireman, he had a little more than basic first aid, but not much. The training had been offered, but optional. At the time David had opted for some extraction classes instead. He had known then he would some day regret that decision. With no back board or neck brace, he gently lifted the smaller man and cautiously carried him up the slippery steps.

Jim stifled a groan as he woke, feeling along the bed for his security blanket of sorts. Or security pillow as the case was. He cracked open an eye and searched for it, realizing that someone must have moved it to the chair while he was asleep. Before he could lever himself up the door opened. Simon came in and tossed the pillow to the bed before he plopped into the chair. Jim surreptitiously pulled the pillow up to his chest and wrapped his arms around it.

Simon opened a map and placed it within easy reach for Jim. "Temco's father owned a hunting cabin. Its somewhere in this general area," he said indicating the location with his finger. "The town where they were spotted is here."

"That's close. That's where they are," Jim agreed. "How are we going to proceed?"

"Without giving away too much I let the sheriff know that Temco could be dangerous. He's going to take a three man team up there tonight."

"I don't know, Simon," Jim said. "I guarantee that three men couldn't sneak up on me in the mountains."

"But this guy is new at this Sentinel stuff, right?"

"I hope that'll make a difference."

David sat for hours watching over his silent Guide. He remembered how Blair had come to him every day, how he taught him and gave him hope, how he tamed the monster that had all but destroyed him. He longed to hear his voice one last time. Holding a pillow above Blair's face, his hands began to shake. He prayed for forgiveness and lowered it slowly, tears streaming down his face. There wasn't any other way. He couldn't function without a Guide, and Blair wouldn't survive without medical intervention. He would do Blair first, suffocate him in his sleep, then he would cut his own wrists with a hunting knife. Blair's skin was cool and his color wasn't good. It wouldn't take much to send him to the other side. Maybe he would meet him there and they would find peace together.

The sound of an approaching vehicle brought David out of his semi-trance as he pressed the pillow more firmly into Blair's face. He released his hold and moved to the window, to stare out into the darkness. Someone had parked on the other side of the ridge, so he couldn't see them but he heard clearly every word of the conversation. He looked back at the still form on the bed and took in the steady heart beat. Blair had a chance. As much as it pained him, he was going to give it to him. 

He bent and kissed his Guide on the forehead fondly before grabbing his jacket and Blair's backpack and rushing out the back door. He waited in the woods until they came and took his Guide away. For all his hope that he had somehow formed a bond with Blair, when he reached out with his senses he felt nothing but fear. His own fear of being alone again. Slowly he rose and headed off into the cold, dark woods. He would survive somehow. Or not. But he wasn't going back to the mental institution.

Jim sat bolt upright in the bed, gasping at the tug of his stitches from the sudden movement. Simon stood up from the chair in the corner, dropping his book to the floor. "What's wrong, Jim? Do I need to get the nurse?"

"He's here," Jim said as he reached over the bed rail and fumbled to release it.

"Who?"

"Blair," Jim supplied as he pulled himself up to sit on the side of the bed, thankful that the catheter was now gone.

"Easy, Jim. I haven't heard anything from the sheriff. Let me call and see how the operation is going." He flipped out his cell phone before he remembered he couldn't use it in the hospital.

Just then the phone next to Jim's bed rang. Jim snatched it up. "Ellison," he spat into it. "Yeah, he's here. Tell me what's going on." He closed his eyes and nodded. "Ok, thanks," he said and hung up the phone. "That was Joel. The team that went in got him, but Temco got away. Blair's hurt and they air lifted him here. He just arrived." He slid to the floor and moved to unplug his IV pump from the wall.

"Whoa, where are you going? As if I don't know. Get back in the bed. I'll go see what I can find out."

Jim hesitated, then he swayed a little. Gravity decided his argument for him as he sat heavily back on the bed, grimacing at the pain that radiated up and down his chest. "Go," he urged his Captain. "Don't take too long, I need to know."

"Yes, sir," Banks answered sarcastically with a hint of affection. "I'll be right back."

Blair had come around quickly once the swelling in his brain was reduced. Luckily, surgery had been unnecessary, and there was no permanent damage as far as anyone could tell. Jim pushed the staff to the absolute limits of their patience when it came to sneaking in to sit with Blair. At last he was moved out of ICU and into a double room. Some strings were pulled and to everyone's relief, Jim was moved in with him.

Jim had been waiting to have a minute alone with Blair, but all the commotion of moving both of them had taken a toll on him and he had fallen asleep. There were too many things left unsaid between them, and he was going to fix that situation right now. When he woke up Blair was lying on his side watching him. He performed his trick to release the bed rail and slowly sat up.

Blair smiled with amusement. "So that's how you do that," he said, glancing down over the edge of his own bed to locate the mechanism for future reference.

"I'm never letting you out of my sight again," Jim said as he eased himself into the chair between the beds and took Blair's hand into his.

The look of what? Disbelief? No, aversion that crossed Blair's face surprised him, and quite frankly, hurt his feelings. "Don't say that, man," Blair sighed as he grasped Jim's hand in return.

"I don't understand," Jim said, pulling his hand away.

"Jim, wait. I didn't mean it like that. Its just that David literally never let me out of his sight. Hardly ever anyway. I think that's how he compensated."

"For what?" Jim asked.

"We never bonded, probably because I was already bonded with you. He couldn't feel my presence the way you do, so he had to keep visual contact all the time. Or at least be where he could hear me."

"Oh. I can't imagine not being able to feel you," Jim replied softly.

"He lied to me. He told me you were dead," Blair said. "But I knew you weren't."

"I don't think you would have been able to find a Guide for him," Jim said carefully. "I think that being a Guide is as specialized as being a Sentinel. If it wasn't for you..."

Temco had spent hours combing the hospital, listening for the sound he had been without for days now. He had tried to walk away, he really had. But now he was right back where he started before he met Blair. He had trouble controlling his levels. Sound came and went, sometimes blasting him, other times he could hardly hear at all. He was unable to wash again, he couldn't bear the touch of water on his skin. He couldn't eat. Only smell saved him. He carried Blair's backpack with him, which held Blair's residual odor. Only it was fading now. As he picked up the familiar heart beat, he leaned against the wall in relief. He opened his hearing to listen for the voice and there it was. 

"We never bonded, probably because I was already bonded with you."

So that was it. It was so simple. Blair had been right, Ellison wasn't dead. David hadn't done something wrong, it was Ellison's fault he couldn't bond with the Guide. Temco leaned against the wall as he continued to monitor the conversation. He felt his control returning and he made up his mind. If he wanted his Guide back, he would have to remove the obstacle. He wasn't a violent man, but the other Sentinel would have to die. He moved closer to the room and waited in a closet until he was sure the two men were asleep. Unfortunately, they talked for hours, mending fences, catching up. David burned with envy, but couldn't tear himself away.

Just as the sun was coming up, he slipped into the dark room. Pausing briefly to touch Blair's hair, he turned toward his cousin, his own flesh and blood resting deeply due to exhaustion and pain meds.  He raised the large hunting knife high into the air and began to plunge it towards the sleeping man's chest. Two shots rang out. The knife fell, grazing Jim's forearm as he rolled off the bed for cover. Across the room, Blair did the same maneuver, leaving a trial of blood where he snagged his IV on the way down and ripped it out.

Simon lowered his gun as he entered the room and moved to the suspect on the floor. "Its Temco," he said. Blair brushed by him and dropped down to David's side. Jim wasn't far behind. The door burst open and a stream of people flowed in.

"Oh, David," Blair sighed. He was pulled away by his partner as the resuscitation efforts began. He rested his head on Jim's shoulder to watch in a dull horror, but Jim gently made him turn his head away. Somehow Blair knew it was too late. Maybe there was some kind of bond after all. Because he felt it as David found his peace.

They were a pitiful pair as they watched the procession. Released only that morning, both signed out under threat of leaving against medical advice. Blair was adamant about not missing the funeral, and Jim was not about to let him go alone. 

Feeling a small tug of pride as he watched the shiny red firetruck with the flag draped coffin on top pass slowly, Blair thought of the other David. The one he had never known. The fireman. The hero. He turned to look at his partner. "I guess firemen are a lot like policemen, huh?" he said softly.

Jim eyed the long line of dress uniforms that marched solemnly behind the truck and had to agree. "Yeah, they take care of their own," he agreed. "Even if they'll never know what really happened."

"You know it wasn't his fault. Don't you, Jim?" Blair asked, his eyes pleading for understanding.

Jim swallowed past a lump in his throat. It didn't take a lot of imagination to visualize a sea of cops instead of firemen. "I know," he sighed. But for the grace of God...

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.