Blair Sandburg prayed. There was little else he could do while he waited so he prayed and battled the images that haunted him. Images of his sentinel, his friend lying motionless as blood pooled beneath him onto the unforgiving street. He could still feel rough hands holding him back, keeping him away from Jim as the man slowly gave his lifeblood to the pavement. Blair could still hear the cold calculated laughter of the man behind him as he was forced to watch a part of his very soul drift away with his friend. “Why?” he asked aloud his voice echoing through the empty chapel. Blair sank to his knees and searched his weary mind for an answer. None came, and only the question remained “Why?” he knew he would never understand, even after every thing he had seen, everything that had happened during the last three years of his life he was no closer to understanding mans inhumanity to man. Some where he was aware that simple fact was not a bad thing, though now it could offer him no peace. The brutality of the night hit him hard as his mind replayed the grisly events again.
 
“Jim, man you *so* do not understand.” Blair shot an exasperated look at his partner as they crossed the street. “Emma is a friend. That’s it end of story.”

“Uh huh right Chief.” Jim nodded in mock understanding. “And now you’re going to tell me you stare at all your friends like that.”

“I wasn’t staring!” Blair defended him self.

“You’re right I believe the appropriate term is leering.”

Blair’s retort never passed his lips as the sound of gunfire shattered the air; it took Blair a split second to register the fact that his friend had been shot. “JIM!” he screamed as he reached out for his falling partner, he felt himself being pulled backward and he struggled against the strong arms that were holding him in place. He tried to turn his head to look at his captor. “Let me go!”

“I’m sorry I cant do that and I’d suggest you keep your eyes forward, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to miss his last breath.” A cold voice hissed in his ear.

“You sonofabitch!” Blair screamed as he continued to struggle against the arms that held him. Blair lifted his feet off the ground and dug his heels harshly into the mans kneecaps, the man grunted with pain and involuntarily released his prisoner. Blair made it two steps before he was yanked backward by the hair. “No!” Blair struggled furiously against his captor. The grip on his hair tightened and his head was pulled painfully back. He cringed as he felt the mans hot breath against his neck.

“You’re going to watch him die little man.” The gunman sneered, “he’ll die and there’s not a thing you’ll do to help him, you’re useless, pathetic.”

Blair cried out in fury, hot tears of frustration burned their way down his cheeks. “Somebody help me!”

“If you were stronger, he’d live.” The man whispered harshly in his ear.

Something inside Blair snapped, with a surge of strength fueled by abject rage he broke free from the mans grasp and turned on him. He would not let his friend die, one thought all consuming swirled in his mind, ‘protect the sentinel.’ He lunged himself at the larger man, wrapping his hands around his throat as his momentum carried both of them to the pavement; the back of the gun mans skull connected with the curb. He was dead before he knew what hit him. Blair stared into his lifeless eyes for a moment before releasing his hold on the criminal. Instinct alone drove his actions, without being aware of it he found Jim’s cellular, called for help and held his hand over the hole in his sentinels chest as an impromptu dam keeping anymore of his life from seeping on to the street beneath his body. Blair was unaware of his voice speaking assurances to his fallen friend an unconscious litany of words falling from his mouth. All he knew was he had to protect the sentinel, he had to keep Jim alive, he needed to be strong enough. Time for the younger man stood still as he waited, nothing existed except his friend. He never heard the sirens as they screamed closer, never felt the hands gently ease him away from the injured detective and never registered the questions being asked of him. His focus was solely on his friend, nothing else mattered and nothing would until he knew his sentinel would live. His connection to the world was slowly crumbling.

“Sandburg!” a familiar booming voice penetrated his self imposed isolation. “Damnit kid look at me!”

Time came crashing back as the world around him exploded back into his consciousness, he looked at the man standing before him with wide eyes and then looked at his blood covered hands. He felt his heart pounding painfully in his chest as he realized fully what had taken place. “Oh God!” he gasped, “oh God no!” His body shook violently as he looked at the controlled chaos around him; his gaze fell on Jim as paramedics prepared to move him to the awaiting ambulance. Just beyond where his friend lay, the body of the gunman was being covered with a sheet. The man he killed, the man who had shot Jim and kept Blair away while his friend was slowly bleeding to death. He looked back at Simon. “I killed him.” His voice shook in time with his body. “I killed that man, he shot Jim and I killed him.”
 
It was a simple statement, but one that Simon Banks had hoped never to hear from the young observer. Blair’s words echoed through the police captain’s mind as he sat waiting for news on Jim’s condition. The younger man had managed to give him an account of what had happened on that deserted street. Simon had to fight to keep his rage in check as Blair recounted being held back and taunted while his friend was bleeding on the street. It went against everything he believed but Simon was glad the bastard was dead, he only wished someone other than Sandburg had killed him. Simon could not imagine the ravages the anthropologist’s soul had suffered this night; he only knew that if Jim died more than likely Blair would too. That was unacceptable and Simon found himself praying harder than he ever had for both of his men, both of his friends. Simon was accustomed to waiting for news on any one of his men when they were injured, he hated it but this was an all too familiar position for him, and he knew the routine well. This time was different, this time the fear he felt was deeper, this time he knew if Jim died, there would be no recovery, no healing for Blair and very possibly none for himself. The reality of what would become of them griped the captain coldly by the heart. Jim had to pull through, if he didn’t Simon wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to put the pieces of his life completely together again and he knew with grim certainty Blair wouldn’t. How did this happen, how did a gruff detective and an overly enthusiastic anthropologist come to mean so much to him? Simon would never know, the fact of the matter was they did. So Simon prayed for one more in the long line of miracles that surrounded them. “Please God let Jim Ellison live.”
 
Blair had lost track of time in the stillness that surrounded him, he had been caught up in his own personal version of a ‘zone out.’ He sat wrapped in the solitude of the chapel. He wasn’t even sure how he’d come to be there, so much of what had taken place since they had arrived at the hospital was a blur, though he remembered clearly what the doctor had said before Jim was taken into surgery. The bullet had glanced off a rib sending a bone splinter into his friend’s lung before lodging it’s self near his spine. The doctor was very honest when he said it didn’t look good but they would do every thing they could. “Will it be enough?” he asked himself. He sighed heavily scrubbing his face with his hands, he had never been a man who needed to have control over fate, but now more than anything that was exactly what he wanted. “How did it happen Jim?” he asked aloud. “How did my life without you become unimaginable?” he struggled with the weight of the fear and uncertainty bearing upon his battered psyche. The emotional toll of the night’s events had become a physical presence and his entire being ached with it. Would his friend, his sentinel die without ever knowing he had become the most important force in his life? “He will not die!” he lifted his eyes defiantly to the ceiling of the small chapel. “He’s strong!”

‘If you were stronger he’d live.’ The voice came back to haunt the young man. Blair cringed as the very recent very real memory tore through his mind and then he got angry. “I am not weak!” he shouted. “I. am. Not. Weak!” his voice dared the powers that be to disagree with him, he was met with only silence. The desolation he felt became oppressive; he was loosing himself in anger and fear, each second tearing a little more from his soul. Without warning Blair Sandburg asserted himself against the emotions threatening to tear him apart. He hurt, he was afraid and he was angry but he refused to crumble. He rose and walked with unexpected determination for the door. He would be there when the doctor came to give them the news and he would find a way to deal with whatever the outcome might be. He would be there for his friend, his brother whether it was while he recovered or while he died. Blair would be there.
 
Simon looked at the wall clock again realizing how futile the action really was, time would do what it always had and tick slowly by regardless of his perception of its actions. It angered him to an extent, every tick of the second hand aggravating another of his already frayed nerves while he waited. Time. The ancient enemy of all who wait. Simon shook his head at the thought. In all the time he had been waiting no one had come to tell him, his best detective, his friend had died. In the fragile balance that was life for the three men involved, that was a good thing.

Simon stood and began to pace, he wondered about Blair. The kid had taken off as soon as the doctor had left two hours earlier. The look on the young mans face was burned into the captains memory, he had never seen that kind of anguish, the utter helplessness reflected in the kids eyes cut through the police captains heart and his fatherly instincts desperately needed to make it better, easier for Blair. The observer had turned on his heels and headed for the hall, Simon had called after him only to be silenced with a backward wave of the younger man’s hand. Simon didn’t follow, he had forced himself not to, knowing he had to deal with the news in his own way. Simon hoped to God and anyone else who was listening that the kid had the strength to do it. He had to wonder if this was finally going to be the catalyst that would topple the spirit of Blair Sandburg. Even if Jim survived, would his guide be able to deal with an event so brutal that it was beyond Simon’s comprehension. How could the young man cope with the damage inflicted upon his gentle soul? Simon’s anger began to stir dangerously close to the surface, the thought of such a base and cruel act being perpetrated on anyone infuriated him, the fact it was done to his men, his friends made his blood boil. If the man weren’t already dead, Simon wasn’t so sure *he* wouldn’t have killed him. Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily silently berating himself for his dark thoughts and sat down again. “Now’s not the time for this.” He said to himself.

“Hey Simon.”

The older man looked up to the source of the soft utterance, silently relieved to see the young anthropologist standing before him. “You okay?” he asked already knowing the answer but quietly hoping for the best.

Blair considered his answer a moment and put his head down. “No.” he said quietly, “but I am doing the best I can.”

“Good enough then.” Simon was struck by the reserved strength reflected in the younger man’s eyes, the helplessness was gone though the sadness remained. Still the strength and determination he saw impressed him and he was reminded of a conversation he had shared with Jim not long before. The detective had admonished him for not giving Sandburg enough credit. ‘He’s stronger than you think sir, he’s stronger than all of us.’ Simon was beginning to believe that were true, after everything the young man had suffered since he’d known him, he still came back, he still threw himself into the fray. The kid was always just there, standing up to what ever was thrown at him. Driven by loyalty, devotion, and friendship for a man who a few short years ago had been insufferable, the kid was strong enough to take all of it and still come back for more. Ellison was right Blair Sandburg was the strongest of them all, Simon wondered if the kid even had a clue about the truth.

“How about you Simon?” Blair’s quiet voice again pushed through the captain’s thoughts.

Simon had no false bravado to muster so he settled for the simple truth. “I’m worried kid.”

Blair took the seat next to the captain. “Yeah me too.”

The two men sat in silence, nothing could be said to ease their minds or sooth their souls so they waited quietly each lost in their own troubled thoughts. Several long hours later their wait was over.

“Mr. Sandburg, Captain Banks.” The doctor crossed to the two men. “Detective Ellison made it through surgery very well.” The men had risen to their feet immediately upon her entrance and Dr. Sayer smiled as they visibly relaxed. “This is what we have gentlemen, his injuries are quite serious, however, we repaired the damage to his lung and that should heal nicely, the bullet as you know lodged near the spine and that is what’s caused us the most concern, while the bullet has been removed there is considerable amount of swelling in the area. That is to be expected, however, because of the proximity to the spinal column and cord there is a risk of paralysis. We won’t know for sure until the swelling goes down.”

“Oh God!” Simon swore softly.

Blair raked a hand through his hair. “He may never walk again, is that what you’re saying?” his voice shook with disbelief.

 Dr. Sayer’s tone softened with compassion as she continued. “Look I know this isn’t the best news, but we’ve crossed a major hurdle. Six hours ago I didn’t think Detective Ellison would survive the surgery, but he did and not only that but he’s stabilized. I have every reason to believe your friend will survive, he’s strong and he’s fought every step of the way. No, I don’t know if there will be any permanent damage to his spine, but he’s alive. And I am telling you gentlemen that is nothing short of a miracle.”

“I know…. I’m sorry.” Blair shifted his gaze away from the doctor. “May I see him?”

“They’re getting him situated in ICU, we’ve induced coma to restrict his movement and allow time for the swelling to go down, he’s also on a respirator. You can see him briefly and then I recommend you go home and get some rest both of you. Someone will come get you when he is settled.”

“Thank you Dr. Sayer.” Simon’s gratitude though heartfelt, was tempered with the uncertainty that still surrounded the recovery of his friend. The torture of one wait had ended, but too unfairly another one had just begun.
 
Blair sat in the stiff plastic chair at his friend’s bedside and studied the man. Jim was alive yet Blair’s soul still ached. His body was still, too still, his face slack and his skin so pale it was almost translucent. The stillness bothered him most because of the underlying threat that part of him would always remain so. He gently took his sentinel’s hand in his own, feeling it’s warmth, needing the connection, the wholeness this man’s life brought to him. “I want you to know something Jim.” His voice trembled quietly. “It won’t matter. Whatever happens I’ll be here for all of it. It’s a promise, me by your side for all of it. But you’ve got to fight with me. Whatever happens you have to remember to fight with me, you’re not going to be alone, you’ll never be alone. It’s the best we can do right?” he stopped not trusting his voice any further as tears once again began to fall. The weight he felt on his heart had no description it was just unmercifully there. The utter wrongfulness of the situation bore on his mind in spite of his efforts to keep it away. He was tired down to his soul, too much had happened in too short a time and the events would be ignored no longer. The foundation of his strength crumbled a little more but mercifully the nurse had come to tell him his time was up. Blair nodded and released his friend’s hand, he leaned to Jim’s ear and whispered. “I will be back.”

He walked slowly back to the waiting area, his fatigue growing with every step. He needed to rest, his body and mind demanded it but an unreasonable fear grew inside of him. How could he go back to the loft, how could he be alone knowing the thoughts that would invade his psyche once he was home? How could he sleep knowing what nightmares lay in store for him behind his closed eyes? He entered the waiting area where Simon was waiting to take him home, Blair was too tired to argue with him so he allowed the older man to lead him out of the hospital and to his car. He would go home, what would happen then was anyone’s guess.

Simon was unnerved by the kid’s silence and the dull look behind his normally vibrant eyes. He knew the look all to well, he had seen it in too many men before. He knew Blair was paying the price of random violence, the exorbitant toll exacted by the evils of man.  There was a lot of healing to be done for both his men, too many pieces to pick up. Simon felt as if he had witnessed a train wreck and he was at a loss as how to help. He glanced at the young man beside him, noting with regret the lost look on his face. The anthropologist’s pain was tangible for Simon, he’s been down the road before but still he knew what the younger man had been put through was far worse than anything in his experience. He needed to do something, say something, the kid looked so alone. “You can stay with me tonight if you don’t want to go home.” He finally said.

Blair was startled at the sudden disruption of silence, needing a moment to process what had been said. He numbly shook his head. “No Simon.” He said softly. “It’s okay, you need to get some rest, don’t worry about me.”

“I’d rest better if I knew you were alright.” He admitted.

Blair sighed. “I’ll be okay, you get some sleep, I’ll get some sleep and we’ll see what happens in the morning okay?”

The sedan pulled to a stop infront of the loft and the men said their good byes. Simon looked on for a moment as the younger man shuffled wearily up the sidewalk. He said a silent prayer for Blair as he pulled away and headed for home knowing he would be facing his own demons this night had created.
 
Blair absently pushed the door shut behind him, stopping in the hall he took a long look at his surroundings. In his minds eye everything was faded and lifeless and the silence that permeated the loft was oppressive. He felt lost in this place. His home brought him no comfort, no safety, he was simply alone. And the monsters were coming, terror was at the door. Anger welled within him and he wanted desperately to cry out, but there was nothing left to scream and no one left to hear. He fought to control the extreme emotions assailing him, he fought to find his focus, if he could only stop shaking he was sure he could make it across the room. If he could only move he could make it to the shower and wash away the blood that still clung to his body, the gruesome calling card of the evils of man, if he only had control. He steeled himself again and fought his way through the beckoning madness, forcing his feet to move toward the bathroom.

He refused to look at his reflection in the mirror as he passed, too uncertain of what he would see. He was too close to the edge and he feared what might lie behind his own eyes, what would he see now that he had taken a life. It shocked him to know that he was capable, even more that he would do it again. It terrified him that he felt so little for the life that was lost, he had nothing but loathing for the man that was dead, the man who’s actions had made him less than human. Blair slowly peeled his bloodstained clothes away from his skin, his eyes focusing away from where his bloody shirt now lay in the corner. He turned the water on with a shaking hand and suddenly the room was filled with sound a familiar, mundane sound that blessedly shattered the silence. He shuddered at the momentary relief he felt somewhere perhaps he thought that it too would make no sound. That he was trapped in an existence that had bled out becoming just a shell of what it formerly was. There was his true fear, not the change that he would see in himself but the change he could see in his friend. The realization struck him like a physical blow and his knees buckled beneath him. He wrapped his arms around his torso in a vain effort to control the tremors that racked his body as he sobbed. He was not afraid for himself, he was afraid for Jim. He was physically the strongest man Blair knew, what would happen to him if that were taken away forever? He had faith in Jim, he had faith his friend would cope, but he didn’t know for sure and the doubt made him sick. He felt it was a betrayal of his friend to doubt him, but still he did. For the second time that night he found himself praying for the life of his friend, praying for a miracle, praying for resolution but his tenuous grip on his own piece of mind was faltering and he was swept away by an overwhelming fatigue. His mind refused him anymore contemplation. His mind and body were telling him he could do no more. There was nothing more to be done other than wait. He wrapped a towel around himself and shuffled into his bedroom, changed his clothes and used his blanket to barricade the last of the world from his existence. Tomorrow would be another day and it would remove him all too quickly from the safety of his slumber.

 
Screaming, he was screaming! The world around him contorted, the scenery ripped apart at the seams and all he could do was scream. Agonized sounds erupted from his throat as cold hands pulled at him, carrying him away from the life he knew and further into the darkness. The chill brought on by their touch seeped into his very soul and he could fight no more. He lay shivering and alone under a shroud of blackness no eyes could see through. He despaired. Sorrow removed him from himself, he had failed. A desperate voice echoed in his mind, ‘somebody help me!’ The anguish in that voice shook him, he had failed, he could not help. Solitude and darkness were the price for his failure, the light had been ripped from his life and he would remain here, for the rest of his days alone.

Time passed, or at least he thought it did. He could not be sure, other voices penetrated his consciousness though none were the one he wished to hear, he knew he would never hear that voice again. Still he listened, he listened to them speak of his condition, his prognosis and he wondered why they were fighting so hard to keep him alive. Didn’t they know he had failed? The voices were somber, they did not hold out much hope for him. It didn’t bother him, he didn’t care he failed. Then one voice rose above the others, a commanding feminine voice telling the others they were not going to give up, she would be damned if she were going to tell the man’s partner there was no hope.

“Partner?” he questioned himself. No, it couldn’t be, he had failed. His partner had died, he knew it. He had died, the voice had said ‘if you were stronger he’d live.’ Then he heard this scream, a terrible sound and he knew his guide was dead and then nothing at all. The woman spoke again, telling them about his partner, about what she had heard  of the two men and the obvious connection they shared. She spoke of his guide in the present tense, telling all that she knew as they worked to save his life. Could it be true? He had to know for sure, he needed to find out. A pinprick of light invaded the darkness and the sentinel began his fight.

More time had passed, he could feel it, he was aware of it this time. He knew he was in a different place, the voices were different though they still talked about him. Their words were different,, their tone still grave, but know they had hope. He would live. The news made no difference to him, he only wanted one thing. He wanted to know it wasn’t a dream, he needed to hear his guides voice. He heard the voices speculate on his ever walking again, somewhere in his mind that concerned him. If his friend was indeed alive how could he ever hope to protect him if he could not move?  The thought dissppeared from his mind as quickly as it came. First things first, he needed to hear that voice.

He felt a hand gently take his own and then he herd the soothing sound he believed to be gone forever, his heart cried out as warmth once again flooded his soul. He was not alone, his friend, brother, his guide was alive. He listened to the gentle voice letting it flow over him, surround him and fill him with life. He was alive, they were alive and a promise was made.

‘Me by your side for all of it.’

“By your side Chief, always.” His thoughts echoed his guide’s promise as he drifted into the healing hands of hope.

 
Simon stared listlessly at his bedroom ceiling, sleep was elusive for the police captain this night, too much worry, too much anger and not enough reason. The sentinel of a great city lay in the hospital clinging to life. Yes he would live but would he ever be whole? His guide lay at home hurting in a way that defied logic and Simon watched offered what he could feeling wholly inadequate in that task. How do you mend a soul? A friend to both men, he was at a loss, the strength that defined him, the ability to manage any crisis failed him now.

He recognized the futility of his efforts to obtain rest. He rose from his bed and padded to his kitchen, flipping on the coffeepot he sighed as his thoughts once again drifted to Sandburg. He worried about him, he never would have thought it possible three years ago, but the kid had definitely made a place in his heart. Appearances were deceiving; he never expected the gentle enthusiastic spirit that hid behind the long hair and sometimes cavalier attitude. “You’re not what I expected kid.” He thought to himself with a smile. He poured himself a cup of coffee and retreated to his study.

Simon sat quietly studying the pictures on his desk, pictures of his son mostly. He remembered with fondness the memories brought back by the pictures. His son, bright, energetic and constantly reminding him how precious life really is. His gaze drifted to a picture of them with Jim and Blair, taken during one of their camping trips together. His eyes took in every detail of the photograph. “Happy times” he whispered. He wondered at the friendship that had developed between them all. He realized some time before what a remarkable gift it truly was. Few men are so blessed. And he knew, Simon knew that is what would carry all of them through this dark time. The strength of friendship an inexplicable bond that would hold the center together and see them safely to the other side of this trial. Now he understood that regardless of the outcome, they would still be together, that which counted most would still be intact. The rest would heal, Simon would see to that.
 

Blair woke with a start, he had expected this, he knew the nightmares would come and he accepted it. He lay still on his bed as his breathing evened out allowing the cacophony of images play though his mind until they slowly faded. He hated the dreams, but they were inevitable never allowing him to wake in blissful ignorance of the trauma. He had resigned himself to this years ago, this was how his mind chose to heal itself. He glanced up at the clock, his subconscious had been kind and allowed him a full six hours before it decided to replay the days events in nightmarish fashion. He rose from his bed feeling numb and mechanically went through his morning routine.

After showering Blair stood at the balcony doors with his hands wrapped around a mug of tea staring into the darkness that still blanketed the city. Not really seeing, he just stood in silence his outward appearance belying the turmoil within. His thoughts revolved around the previous day. The reality of what he had done had come crashing down on him and with it the painful realization of what that meant. His rage had disappeared leaving only the cold fact that he had taken a life. Right or wrong he had killed someone. Somebody’s son, brother or even husband. He knew even monsters left people behind. Someone out there grieved for the life he took. Someone grieved for him, that person perhaps unaware of the evil that dwelled within the man he killed. He knew out there in the darkness someone wept. It shook Blair, his feelings were conflicted, he was not sorry for his actions. He was not sorry the man was dead and his friend lived. He felt regret for the people unknown to him who were suffering because of it. The lack of justice overwhelmed him, it was brutality unfair and those thoughts threatened to swallow him.

He was startled from his thoughts by a soft knock at the door.  Sudden irrational fear gripped him as he silently crossed the room. Monsters were at the door, he knew it. They looked like everyone else, but they were monsters none the less. He could not, would not let them in. he shook as terror filled him. “No. No. No.” he shuddered. His heart pounded in his chest, as the knocking became more forceful. They were determined to get in. “No! No! No!” his mind raced with the primal need to flee. Someone was coming! His heart beat wildly as he searched for a way out. It made no difference he was rooted in place, his body betraying his will, he was unable to move. The pounding at the door became more insistent striking him like a psychical blow and Blair felt the world begin to close in around him. “No! No! NO!” his breath came in short ragged gasps and his heart was beating so hard and fast he was sure it would burst from his chest. The gruesome mental image that accompanied that thought only fueled his panic and he began to hyperventilate. The sound of the lock disengaging and the door opening sent the terrified young man over the edge. A horror filled scream erupted from his throat as the door opened completely and he collapsed in a heap in the hall.
 
Simon had so far resisted the urge to drive to the loft, fighting the need to check up on the young anthropologist. He gave up rationalizing to himself he was going to see if the kid needed a ride to the hospital.  “ Yeah, what ever works Simon.” He chided himself. Truthfully he understood his own intentions, he was worried about the young man. He needed to know Blair was okay and as much as it chagrined him to admit it, he needed to talk to him. It would make him feel better. He needed to know the strength he’d seen the night before was still there and if it wasn’t he needed to do what he could to get it back. Silently he wished the kid had taken him up on his offer and stayed the night. Somehow at this point the younger mans security was paramount to his own.

He pulled up infront of the loft and was not surprised to see the lights shining in the pre dawn hours of the day. He hoped Blair had slept at least a little. He trudged quietly up the stairs and knocked on the door. No response, he knocked a little harder and paused for a moment to listen again. What he heard sent a chill down his spine. Blair’s panicked voice coming from behind the door chanting ‘No. No. No.’ he pounded on the door calling the younger man’s name, the distressed sounds coming from within fueling his need to get inside. It was obvious Blair did not hear him so the captain pulled out his key to the loft and unlocked the door. A terrified scream split the air, greeting him as he entered the loft. For a moment he was face to face with the distressed young man, the feral terror in his eyes stopped Simon in his tracks. In the next heartbeat Blair lay crumpled at his feet.

“Blair!” Simon knelt beside the unconscious man and gently turned him onto his back. The younger man’s breaths were coming in short rapid gasps and his pulse thrummed wildly beneath Simon’s fingers. Tremors jackhammered through Blair’s smaller frame and even in unconsciousness Simon could see the horror reflected in his face. “Come on Sandburg, it’s okay. It’s only me.” Something inarticulate passed the observers lips as he curled his body into a tight protective ball. “Blair listen to me it’s okay, you’re safe. It’s Simon, it’s only me.” He placed his hand at the enter of his friends back and rubbed soothing circles while he spoke to the stricken man in a calm even voice. Blair did not flinch away and for that Simon was grateful. It seemed an eternity before the younger man relaxed. Simon needed to get Blair off the floor, but he didn’t want to risk startling him. Blair’s breathing and heart rate returned to something close to normal but he remained curled tightly into himself, his arms hugging his knees into his chest. Simon felt the minute tremors still running through his friend’s body. “It’s okay now Blair, it’s okay.” He sat back on his heels and pushed himself up. If he couldn’t get Blair off the floor he at least needed to put an afghan over him.

“Don’t go.”

The softly spoken plea sent a twinge through Simon’s heart. “I’m not going anywhere kid, just want to get you a blanket or something.”

“I’m okay just…just don’t go.”

Simon heard the hitch in the Blair’s voice and lay a hand on his shoulder lending comfort where he could. Simon heard no sound but he knew the younger man wept. Silent sobs made themselves known beneath his hand. “Do what you need to do Blair, you’re safe here, just let it out.”

Blair did, a huddled mass of desperation and anguish on the floor of his home Blair stopped fighting the pain and fear allowing it to escape. He cried with a soul unable to measure the intensity of his sorrow. “I hurt.” His statement was plain, simple and agonizingly true.

“I know.” Simon felt his eyes stinging with tears of his own at the honesty of that description. All it was all it could be. His friend simply hurt.

“It wont stop.” He whispered desperately.

“It will.” Blair turned to face the captain. “It takes time Blair, it won’t hurt like this forever.”

“Knowing that should make it easier.” He lay his head back on the floor. “It doesn’t.”

Simon closed his eyes as he battled his own emotions. “No it doesn’t.” he sighed. “I’m sorry, more than anything I wish it did.” He felt a smaller hand grasp his wrist.

“Don’t be sorry.” Blair said softly. “I couldn’t handle this alone.”

The honest gratitude he saw reflected in the sad blue eyes of his friend caused a dam of his own to break and Simon found himself gathering the observer into a fierce embrace. “You are never alone.” He whispered. “Never!”

“Thank you.”

“Any time kid, any time.” Simon knew they had a long way to go. He understood the young man he’d unexpectedly come to call friend had only taken the first of many steps toward healing his battered spirit. He knew the young man would fight, driven out of need to be whole and complete for his sentinel who’s future was still tinted with uncertainty. He knew the guide would battle his own demons as well as his sentinel’s to keep them together.  Lesser man would fold but Simon’s faith in the young an in his arms was solid and well earned. He found himself looking out through the balcony doors as the morning light filtered through the glass and began to bathe the room in sun. He said a silent prayer of thanks that the night was now behind them and they could move forward into the blessed light of day.

 
Sunlight poured through the window of Jim’s hospital room lending warmth to the sterile cream colored walls. Blair sat quietly dozing in the chair next to his friend’s bedside a position that was now familiar to the doctors and nurses tending to his friend. Two days after the shooting Jim had regained consciousness for a brief time though he didn’t remember much about it except the look in the younger man’s eyes at that moment, a hundred emotions had flickered in those eyes as they met his, joy, relief, sorrow, fear and trust. Now seven days later he watched as his guide slept in the obviously uncomfortable chair, he knew his friend was troubled, even in sleep Jim was aware of the frown creasing Blair’s forehead. They hadn’t spoken of the shooting yet, though he knew they would have to eventually. He remembered nothing save for the overwhelming feeling of failure and then glorious redemption in the knowledge he would be given a second chance to prove he could protect his guide. Though now he was beginning to doubt he would be able, nine days had passed and he still had no feeling below his chest. The doctor had assured him the time to worry had not come, with any spinal injury recovery took time, it could take up to a month for the swelling to go down and feeling to return to the lower part of his body. Still this was an unnerving position for him to be in. He hated it, he hated being dependant and the longer he was awake the worse his mood became, he was aware of it.

He sighed still watching his partner as he slept, the younger man had been a rock offering his unwavering support every time Jim had awoken. The first few days were very confusing, very little penetrated his drug fogged brain causing moments of irrational fear and panic but his guide was always there bringing a sense of security that flowed over him like a comforting blanket. He’d know he was safe and would settle into rest once more. When he became more aware Blair had answered all of Jim’s questions, understanding his concerns and offering the honest assurance that whatever happened they would face it together. He knew his guide spoke the truth and when his thoughts were their darkest it was that very truth that helped him through. He wondered what he had done to deserve such loyalty, he knew Blair was hurting he could see and hear it in the rare unguarded moments the young man unconsciously allowed to escape the mask of strength he wore so bravely.

“This support thing goes both ways chief.” He whispered. There was so much he didn’t know about the ghosts that were haunting his partner and that bothered him. Blair had kept them well hidden but Jim knew they were there and more than anything he wanted, no needed to know what they were. He could not protect his guide from an enemy he did not know.  Something told him it was bad, a nagging feeling that went beyond the trauma of seeing his friend shot, something else happened and that something was damaging. He would find out, one way or another he would know what it was because the promise had been made and he swore he would live up to it.

“Me by your side for all of it.”

Jim smiled, finding the strength he needed in the precious life before him. All doubt fled his weary mind as he looked into the now open eyes of his best friend, as he looked into the heart of the man he was fortunate enough to call brother. “Sleep well?” he asked managing a lopsided grin.

Blair returned the grin, nodding his head and stretching his cramped muscles. “How ya feeling man?”

“Not too bad, chief, not too bad.”

 
Simon paused outside the hospital room door allowing himself to revel in the sound of the soft laughter coming from within. He offered up a silent thanks for what he thought he might never hear again. The smile he wore as he opened the door was genuine and impossible to contain.

“Hey Simon.” Two voices greeted him in unison.

The simple familiarity of the greeting warmed him and he felt more of his doubt wash away. The balance of their lives was slowly being restored and he acknowledged without hesitation the force behind the healing. They were bound by it and in the darkest hours of the night they were saved by it.

Friendship.

The end.
 
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