He woke to darkness
and silence, both almost deafening in their intensity. His head felt like
someone had used it as a punching bag. If memory served him correctly,
that was exactly what had happened.
Funny thing
about memory, in particular his and even more particularly right now, he could
remember very little. Other than a sense of danger and urgency he was
only vaguely aware of anything else.
He didn’t know
where he was or how he got there. He wasn’t even sure who he was.
Flashes of
images moved briefly to the forefront of his mind before slipping back behind
the inky black curtain that blocked what he was sure were the memories he
sought. Pushing for them merely made his head ache worse so he didn’t
try.
He rose
unsteadily to his feet, one hand pressed hard against the brick wall he could
feel behind him. Dizziness swept through him, threatening to send him to
his knees again. He fought the sensation until it eased. He tilted
his head back as a gentle breeze swept past helping a little to clear his
head. He took a deep breath.
This time he couldn’t
prevent his collapse as the harsh stench assaulted his senses. He fell to
his knees, retching uncontrollably for several long minutes until finally he
was able to bring it under his control.
Breathing
through his mouth this time he leaned back against the wall. It was then
that he realized that he had heard himself and now he could hear the sounds of
life nearby. He opened his eyes, turned his head towards the sound and
saw the light at the end of a very long, dark alley.
He eased
himself to his feet again, wondering briefly if he had been on some sort of
drinking binge. That would explain why he couldn’t remember where he was
or how he got there, but it didn’t explain the rest, like why he had forgotten
everything else.
With a groan, he
pushed away from the wall and began the long torturous journey toward the end
of the alley. The street was definitely brighter but only due to the
streetlights. The sky was dark, unlit by stars or moon.
The only life
he saw were the few cars that roamed slowly up and down the streets, sometimes
stopping for the driver to lean over and speak to any one of the number of
ill-dressed women. It was obvious to him who and what these women were
although he had no idea why he knew.
The looks he
received as he stumbled down the road told him that he looked worse than he had
originally thought. He managed several blocks before he found a service
station with an open washroom that didn’t require a key to get inside. He
pushed in and turned the lock on the door.
His groping
fingers found the light switch and flipped it on. The sudden glare of the
bright light burned into his head. With a harsh cry he pressed the palms
of his hands into his eye sockets in an attempt to block the agony.
Tears streamed
down his face as his eyes reacted to both the pain and the fear he felt.
His lack of understanding and the not knowing anything about himself was making
him more emotional than usual. If anything, he was sure of that.
It took
several minutes to adjust to the light and before he was able to make it to his
feet and the commode. The mirror above the sink was filthy and one of
those cheap ones that warped the reflections but it was enough to see by.
He spent a moment to study his reflection.
Blue eyes,
pale and dulled with pain gazed back at him from a face he didn’t
recognize. It was a strong face with firm features. Strong
cheekbones, firm mouth, a nose that was unbroken and neither too big nor too
small. His hair was cropped short making it difficult to determine if it
was blond or brown or somewhere in between. What shocked him most and
also explained a few things was the shallow gash over a lump forming on the
side of his head, which was encrusted with blood, some long dried, some fresh.
Whatever had happened to him hadn’t been that long ago. Maybe he could go
back and ask questions. Maybe someone had seen something.
As he watched,
the image before him flickered. It was brief but long enough to have a
very profound effect on him. The face that appeared was smaller but no
less in strength. The man had fine
features with strong cheeks and a delicate nose and mouth. His head was
covered by a massive amount of long brown curls that fell over unseen
shoulders.
Darker blue eyes
seemed to reach out and grab hold of his heart and he knew without a doubt that
the face he had seen meant more to him than anything else in the world.
Somehow he also knew he had to find the man he had seen in the mirrored
reflection, and soon. The sense of urgency he had felt earlier gripped
him once more in a hold so tight it threatened to tear him apart inside.
Shaking his head in
a vain attempt to clear it, he grabbed some paper towel and began to clear his
face and head. A process that was both slow and painful.
He was pretty
sure he didn’t have a concussion not did he require stitches. His eyes
seemed clear and not dilated. The urgent need to find the man was more
than his need to get medical attention.
When he was finished he was
exhausted. Whatever energy he’d had was now gone. He expelled his
breath in a long, tired sigh and pushed his way out of the restroom. Now, he
needed to find a place to sleep.
The park
provided a perfect spot to rest and recoup his lost energies. He found a
little hollow nestled out of the way of the main trails where it was dark and
quiet. He curled up and pulled some loose leaves over him to preserve at
least some body heat.
His sleep was
not restful. He woke often, occasionally pulling himself out of nightmares
that he couldn’t remember once he opened his eyes. In the back of his mind he head a voice telling him to breathe
deeply, dial it back and relax, you’re safe for now. The voice was warm
and familiar but he didn’t know who it was, only that it could be trusted and
obeyed. He closed his eyes once more and finally sleep took hold as the
voice held back the demons of his nightmares, cradling him in its rich warm
timber.
*****
Danger.
Urgency woke him once more. A stronger sense of it, almost panic.
An unreal sense that time was running out.
He rose slowly but
the dizziness of the day before didn’t return. He left his hiding place,
surprised to find it was still dark. He judged that he had slept for more
than twenty-four hours. Stunned, he hurried though the park to the street
where he had first woken.
Traffic had
already begun to lighten and the ‘ladies of the night’ had started to make
their first appearance. Several approached him but he brushed them off
abruptly. The urgency had not left him. If anything it had only
grown stronger but now, there was an intense sorrow mingled with the
feeling. It overwhelmed him until all he could think about was finding
the man he’d seen in the restroom mirror.
He hadn’t
realized how far he had walked the other day until now as he rushed through the
streets trying to find the alley.
He needed
answers desperately but the memories remained stubbornly trapped behind the
curtain in his mind. The ache in his head had dissipated somewhat but
still not enough.
The sun had
set completely by the time he found the alley, leaving only the street lamps to
light the way. He entered the alley warily; an unaccustomed fear coursed
through him as a shedder shook his body.
The image flickered
in front of his eyes again only this time the face was pale; sunken with
sadness so deep it hurt him to witness it. Tears fell from the deep dark
pools of blue. Despair and agony of loss were written in every line of
the face he knew his loved so much.
His brother.
A sense of family belonging blossomed and grew from the centre of his
chest to the very tips of his soul.
He felt the
tears slide down his own face. He felt a loss so profound that it brought
him to his knees, his hands covered his face and he sobbed helplessly.
More images began to flash before him. Faster and faster they came until
they began to run together.
He saw a
building a door, himself. He watched as he walked across the street to a
parking lot where he climbed into a blue and white pickup truck. A
flicker and he was driving away from the building, a smile on his face.
Then he saw the alley. Not so dark as now. He could see three men
who stood before him. Two held knives, one a gun. He watched as he handed
them his nearly empty wallet.
The man with
the gun demanded his jacket and when he was too slow… He heard the gun go
off. He felt the path of the bullet along the side of his head as he
tried to get out of the way and then there was the feel of hands on him before
the darkness had claimed him.
When the
memories faded, he was left with the darkness. A darkness that lightened
as remembrance took hold and he knew.
He took off
running, nearly colliding with a woman as he barrelled out of the alley. He
kept running as he threw back an apology. For the entire eighteen blocks
he kept on running. He was near collapse as he reached the building from
his memories.
“Simon?” He
called out as he recognized the figure behind the wheel of the maroon sedan parked
by the front door. The single word held much pain but it was clear and
recognizable.
Simon spun
around to face the man they had just put to rest. “Oh my God. Jim!”
Ellison looked
on the verge of collapse as he gave Simon a wry smile. “Hey.”
“Hey!
That’s all you have to say. Where the hell have you been? What
happened to you? We thought you were dead. It’s been three
days.” Simon’s mouth shut to stop the flow of babbling words.
Ellison winced at
the tone and volume of his friend’s voice. His hand came up to cover his
ears but he kept his eyes focussed on his Captain’s. “Since when do you
pronounce someone dead after three days.” The puzzlement plain in his
voice.
“Your truck…we
saw…you were….” Simon took a deep breath and tried again. “We got word
that you were involved in a high speed chase. You weren’t answering your
radio so units were sent in to help out. They arrived just after your
truck lost control, slammed into a telephone pole and exploded on contact.
Witnesses said you were still inside. We just got back from your funeral,
Jim. We thought you were dead.”
Jim was silent
for a long time as he tried to process this into his newly remembered
memories. “I was mugged and this kid shot me. He must have taken the
truck too. I didn’t remember anything until a few hours ago.
The two stared
at each other for a moment before Jim asked, “where’s Sandburg?”
“Oh God,
Blair.” That was all the answer Jim needed. That combined with the
feelings he had gotten earlier spurned him in a race with time. He
crashed into the building and took the stairs to the third floor three at a
time.
The loft door
was closed but unlocked. Casting his senses inside, he located his guide
upstairs in Jim’s room, but what he heard broke his heart.
“You left me
alone. I can’t be alone any more. I can’t.” The whisper was
heart wrenching to hear but the whimper of despair that followed was worse. “I
am sorry Jim. I couldn’t be strong. It hurts too much. Forgive
me.”
Not wanting to
startle the young man who sat on the edge of his bed, Jim crept up the steps
quietly. The sight that met his eyes gripped him in terror. His
best friend sat hunched over his back up .38. Tears streamed down Blair’s
face. The lines of intense sorrow mingled with defeat and sadness seemed
to ooze from his every cell.
As Blair
raised the gun and issued another apology, Jim reached his side. With a
calmness that belied the truth he put out his hand and took the weapon.
There was no resistance.
“Please don’t,
Blair. Nothing is worth this. Especially not me.” The ache in
his own heart came through with the words.
“You left
me.” The voice accused. There was a desperation there that Jim had
never heard before and prayed he never would again.
“I am sorry. I
didn’t mean to. Blair, please look at me. Open your eyes.”
The young
guide shook his head. “I don’t want to be alone any more. Please,
let me go.”
Jim was crying
himself now as he put his arms around the trembling body of his guide.
The young man obviously had no energy left to give more than a token resistance
before succumbing to great heaving sobs that were torn from him and ripped
through Jim’s own body. He cried with Blair for the near loss that had
befallen them both. He began to rock gently until finally Blair relaxed
completely into the exhausted sleep of healing.
Jim felt
Simon’s presence behind him as he tucked the now sleeping guide into the large
bed. The Sentinel reached out and brushed aside the stray hair from
Blair’s face. He smiled as the now relaxed man turned his head into the
caress.
When Blair had
settled once more, Jim motioned for Simon to lead the way back
downstairs. Once in the living room, Jim allowed himself to collapse onto
the couch. The fatigue of the last couple of days had caught up to him
and he felt drained, emotionally as well as physically.
“Jim, do you need to
see a doctor?” Simon asked with concern.
“No. I
don’t want to leave him. Not again. I just need to sleep.”
“Then
sleep.” Simon said with concern in his tone. “Sleep, Sentinel and I
will keep watch for now.”
The Captain
laid his hand upon the forehead of the detective whom he had mourned for not
minutes earlier. Now all he felt was relief that his friend was alive and
well. It was the least he could do. He watched as pale blue eyes
drifted closed and breathing evened out. Ellison’s chest rose and fell,
slower and slower as he fell into a deep sleep.
Simon eased
him onto his side and covered him with the blanket from the back of the
couch. Then he settled himself into the armchair and prepared to wait for
either man to wake.
*****
The smell of coffee
tantalized him into wakefulness. He felt the heavy weight of a blanket
over him and the softness of the couch beneath him. He was home. He
stretched, allowing the warmth of home to settle through him. He moaned
softly as muscles protested the movement. He was awake, though he still
felt the need for more sleep. He also felt the need to check on his guide.
He remembered
the close call of the day before. For a moment he let the pain of it wash
through him, cleansing him in a strange way. Like a final releasing. Then
he heard noises in the kitchen.
Sitting up he saw
Simon pouring a cup of coffee. He smiled at the thought of his friend and
Captain spending the night watching over them. It warmed him with the
affection shown by the usually gruff police captain.
“Could I get
some of that?” He asked as he rose.
“Sure, fresh
pot and everything.” Simon held out a second cup, which Jim took
gratefully. Together they sat at the table, taking chairs opposite each
other. They sat in companionable silence before Simon asked Jim to explain what
he remembered about what had happened.
Jim began to
explain in as much detail as he could remember. A small sound from
upstairs drew their attention and Simon sat back as Jim rushed up to Blair’s
side.
“Chief.
Are you with us again?” He asked a little fearful for the answer.
“Jim?”
Pain was still evident but so was a growing hope that was hard to miss.
Jim brushed his hand across Blair’s forehead and came to rest on his cheek, his
thumb stroking gently.
“Yeah, it’s
me. Open your eyes, Chief. Please, look at me this time.”
Blair leaned
into his hand for a split second but then shook his head. “No, not
possible. I don’t want to be alone. Never again. Don’t leave
me again.” Tears leaked from beneath the closed lids and Jim felt his own
starting.
“I will never
leave you again, Chief. Blair, I promise.” Those must have been the
right words because Blair’s eyes flew open and instantly connected with the
light blue of his Sentinel.
Tears filled
and over flowed as a hand reached up to softly caress the solid cheekbone, wet
with more tears. “Jim.” The word so full of anguish and yet so much
hope.
“Yeah.
It’s me.” Jim took his Guide into his arms. He felt Blair’s wrap
around him and hold tightly, desperately. He held him as him tears mixed
with Blair’s in relief and joy and love for each other. His
brother. By love of the heart and spirit. There could be no other
way, ever. “I promise, Blair. Never alone, never again.”
The End
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