Brother in Heart and Spirit

 

EJKatz

 

 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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