Chapter One – Entering the
Dream World
Life is somewhat unexpected here. This world was one of colour and noise,
which, vividly encompassed and passionately applied to all life here. It was applied in the same way that a rainbow’s
colours were more definite with the thickness of the rain and blueness of the
sky, in the same way that the bright sunlight changed the drab into the
incredibly beautiful. Here, in this
world, all life was more real then it was out there, in real life. This world, the dream world, is where people
wanted to be and few would ever enter.
A world that permitted all things to come true.
The negative side to this world, for it
could only be called that, was that nothing was as it seemed. Here life imitated reality, but in more
technicolor detail. Things seemed more
intense and yet not enough to make you want to leave. In fact, if anything, once you got here, you never thought of
leaving. Never, ever again.
This world was one way and one way only. Those that entered into these hallowed halls
forgot what waited for them back in their real lives. They forgot the people who loved them, the good things that had
happened to them. They didn’t care
because they also forgot the bad things and the bad people who had hurt
them. They forgot everything and made
new lives for themselves. Dream lives.
~*~*~*~
"Sandburg!"
Jim's voice boomed through the bullpen.
Blair, perched
at the edge of Brown's desk, stopped his conversation with the detective and
looked up. "Hey, J--" His greeting faded when he saw the unrestrained
rage on the Sentinel's face.
"YOU SON
OF A BITCH!" In three long strides, Jim closed the difference between
them, pulling his arm back to deliver a powerful blow to Blair's jaw...
~*~*~*~
Blair Sandburg woke that morning with an
augury. Not one of those nice
premonitions where he just knew everything would be okay but rather those
dreadful feelings of expectancy, which he hated more than anything else. One of those ones that meant Jim would only
push him away in a vain attempt to keep Blair safe, but this time the
prognostication was not regarding Blair’s safety but rather Jim’s. Therefore, he decided not to mention the
omen to his partner. Maybe then he
wouldn’t tell him to “stay in the truck, Sandburg” or “call for back up,
Chief”. Maybe this way Jim would
finally grasp the concept that Blair was his back up and he could actually do
his job and protect his Sentinel.
Yeah, right, and maybe hell would freeze
over.
Since Blair had commenced his working
arrangement with Detective James Ellison, he had tried, rather unsuccessfully,
to make it through the cop’s thick head that he needed Blair to back him
up. It was the Guide’s job to keep the
Sentinel safe but since Blair wasn’t really a cop it made for a great deal of
difficulty when Jim insisted on trying to keep Blair out of the firing
line. The attempts over the years had
not exactly been easily nor had they been a great success. Since Blair didn’t come to the firing line,
the firing line had come to Blair in the form of psycho serial killers who
tried to steal ‘friends’ personalities, getting shot trying to rescue their
Captain, Simon Banks, being knocked out in the same rescue attempt by a psycho
survivalist. He’d also been kidnapped by
a drug dealer and her boyfriend. Killed
by one sentinel only to be revived by the first one. Been beaten by men hired by one of his students when he was
forced to fail him. There were other
incidents but he didn’t want to remember them.
Though if truth be told, they were easier
to remember than some of the other things.
Like the times that Jim had lashed out and taken his own fears out on
Blair. His words and actions had belied
the truth behind their friendship with their hurtfulness. Blair had understood
why Jim had lashed out the way he had.
Studying the man for almost four years had given him a great deal of
insight into the detective and his behavioral patterns. Even though the words and actions had hurt,
he had understood what was behind them and he had not held it against his
friend.
Now however, something was terribly wrong
with Jim. Something worse than when
Alex had come to town, something worse than the terrible things Alex had done,
or Lash had done, or Dawson Quinn had done.
It was worse than all of them combined and Blair had no idea how to deal
with it. He didn’t know what was wrong,
he didn’t know how to stop it and Ellison had stopped talking to him… again.
Damn. It hurt more than anything when his
best friend stopped trusting his guide.
If anything, the events of the last year alone had warranted them
working on their communication skills and both had taken great pains to make
certain that they talked about everything that would affect their lives. But this…Blair had no idea what to do to
make it better and that thought terrified him.
He could easily remember back to when
these strange things had begun happening to his friends and co-workers.
~*~*~*~
One month
before
“Yo, Chief, let's go. We don’t want to be late.”
“Coming, Jim. I just need my pack.”
Blair called back. He was
excited and it showed. He practically
bounced out of his room, a grin lit his face with anticipated pleasure. Jim watched as he dropped the pack to grab
his jacket. He retrieved the pack and
slung it over his shoulder.
“Ready, Chief?”
“Oh yeah, man. This is gonna be great.
You seriously managed to get floor seats for this game?”
“Yup.
It isn’t everyday that my partner gets his own desk you know. It’s official, you have been fully accepted
into Major Crimes. You are so much a part of the team that you have your very
own desk and very own phone. How does
it feel?” Jim grinned in return. The
grad student’s excitement was contagious.
Jim had called in a few favors to get these tickets but he was proud of
his partner and he wanted him to know that.
The last few months had been tough on the kid. He had put up with so much from Jim and they were only just putting
the pieces back together. Alex had
definitely been the worse thing that could have happened. The woman had almost destroyed the single
most precious thing in Jim Ellison’s life on more than one occasion but the
worst was when she killed Blair. If it
hadn’t been for Incacha, he might have lost his best friend for good.
The Shaman had appeared to Jim and told
him how he could save the life of the police observer. The merging of their spirits had been more
than a vision. It had felt so real and
it had created a bond between the two that was stronger than anything Jim had
ever known. The problems hadn’t ended
there, though rather the healing had begun.
With a fond look he reached out and cuffed the smaller man gently on the
side of this head before his hand came to rest in the tangle of curls at the
back of his neck.
“Let’s go.” He said after Blair had finally finished enthusing about his new
found home in the Major Crimes bullpen.
In brotherly companionship the two men made their way down the apartment
steps. Like a syncronized time piece
they got into the truck, Sandburg on the passenger side and Jim behind the
wheel.
~*~*~*~
Two days later
Major Crimes
Bullpen
“Captain, There’s been a shooting, Rafe and Megan were hit.” Sandburg and Ellison followed as Simon and
Brown raced down the stairs to the sidewalk outside the precinct. The sight they beheld horrified them. Their two friends lay bleeding on the
sidewalk. Officers crowded around their
two fallen comrades, all attempting to assist in the first aid, while waiting
for the ambulance which had already been called.
Megan lay crumpled against the wall of the
building, bleeding from her shoulder.
One man was lifting her gently to lay her flat and apply pressure to the
wound.
Rafe lay not five feet from her. His shirt was covered in blood from a wound
that in the upper left side of the chest, close to the heart. Under his head another pool of blood was
forming, expanding rapidly despite the pressure that was being applied by one
of the medics who had arrived on the scene just as Simon and the others
appeared.
Both detectives were unconscious but
alive. It took only a few minutes for
the two ambulances to arrive, sirens blaring.
Four paramedics scrambled out and quickly but efficiently prepared the
two for transport.
Simon rose and stepped back from Megan’s side
as the EMTs lifted her onto the stretcher and rolled her into the first
ambulance.
Jim had quickly found the site where the
shooter had waited. There were four
spent shells and a lot of footprints marking the spot. It was also Jim who found the note,
addressed to Sandburg.
Sandburg, thought you should know that what is happening to your friends
is your fault. You ruined my life, you
took it away from me and I will take away yours, piece by agonizing piece.
With a muffled moan of distress, Blair handed
the plastic wrapped note back to Jim who handed it off to Simon.
~*~*~*~
Present
852 Prospect
Street, #307
That was how it had all started. Megan had recovered rather quickly. The bullet had fortunately gone straight
through and managed not to do any significant damage. After a day and night in the hospital, she had been
released.
Rafe had not been so lucky. He was hit by three of the bullets. One had just grazed his head, the second had
lodged deep in his chest, though not doing major damage but the third had
caught him twisting from the second bullet and lodged in his back. Due to the
swelling, the doctors were unable to see how close to the spine the bullet was,
but the prognosis was not good. He remained in a coma still, his fiancee, Lucy was
determined to stay by his side until he woke, even though doctors gave him
little chance of recovery.
Blair had been visiting the hospital
often. To say he felt responsible would
be putting it mildly. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for the fate that
had befallen his friends. He had no idea who it could be who had done this. He
had written out a list of people he thought may have a grudge against him, but
he could think of no one who would be prepared to something so horrendous.
Fifteen minutes later, he was in the Volvo
and headed for school.
~*~*~*~
Present
Major Crimes Bullpen
The bullpen was in pandemonium as Jim
entered. Phones rang all around him,
people yelled out at each other, creating a cacophony of sounds which beat into
the tired Sentinel’s brain. The agony
it produced ignited his temper and he roared out for silence. His yell startled
everyone into quiet.
“Thank you, “ he growled under his
breath. Ignoring the strange looks his
colleagues gave him, he made his way to his desk. It was piled high with case files and unfinished reports that he
could have sworn he had told Sandburg to finish last night. Anger swept through him once more, sending
his already out of control senses into a tailspin. He clutched at his head and shook it to clear it. The tall man
let his knees collapse and his body come to rest in the chair. He hated this…whatever it was that was
happening to him. He was sick of the
headaches, the sensory spikes, the nagging voice of his guide trying to help
but only making things worse.
He cursed the supposed help that Blair
Sandburg tried to give him. He cursed
the day he met the man and he cursed the senses that kept him dependent upon
him. He had tried. For three years, seven months, two weeks and
three days, he had tried to cope with these senses, with the invasion of his
home and with the loss of his privacy and life before Sandburg had entered and
turned it upside down.
His anger mingled with hatred but it was
undirected now. The noise level was
growing again and eating away at what little remained of his sanity. His head pounded, his chest ached and his
body felt like it was going to be shutting down any moment. He couldn’t take it any longer.
He surged to his feet again, grabbing the
pile of files and stormed over to Simon’s office. He knocked but didn’t wait for an answer, rather he simply
entered, the door slamming shut behind him.
A collective sigh ran through the bullpen
as the door closed. Relief was evident
as everyone returned to their jobs without having to worry about ticking off an
already angry cop.
Detectives Taggart and Brown exchanged
glances briefly before returning to their assigned tasks.
~*~*~*~
Simon's Office
Simon heard the commotion and sent out a
silent plea for mercy from whoever above would listen. He heard the roar and subsequent silence but
knew it wouldn’t last. The night before
had brought an unprecedented number of cases to their attention and as a
result, all hell had broken loose. And with two of his senior detectives out of
commission, he needed every man available, including a few officers on loan,
Walter Graf and Kent Parker from Homicide and Michael Winters and Fred
Tatterson from Vice.
Simon had been watching the
self-destructive actions of his best detective and knew it was slowly leading
to the break up of his best team, even if one partner of that team was not a
real cop. He would never admit it but
Simon felt that Blair Sandburg was as real a cop as they got. Sure, he hadn’t been through the academy;
sure, he had none of the formal training but that had not stopped the young
anthropology grad student. Not even the
garbage he had had to put up with over the years since joining Ellison. Together they were incredible to watch,
solving cases that no one else could.
They took the hardest, most complicated
cases and seemed to make them simple and easily solvable. Ellison’s Sentinel abilities gave them an
edge but Simon thought it was more than just that. He believed that these two men together were like one person. They were so different and yet so
complimentary that sometimes it was hard to see one without the other. In fact Simon had long since stopped
thinking of Sandburg as an outsider but rather one of his team, who he
respected and considered a good friend.
This strange phenomenon happening between
these two men was difficult to understand.
Simon had watched as Ellison grew more paranoid as time went on. He watched the Sentinel come into the
bullpen and sniff the air as though confirming there were no enemies
present. He would scan his desk every
morning to make sure nothing had been touched.
He would visibly calm if nothing was wrong but if Sandburg was with him,
the process took longer and lasted well into the late afternoon or until the
observer left the building. It really
hurt to see what was happening with Jim now and yet he had no idea how to help,
with either one.
A knock sounded on his door just seconds
before it was thrown open and the man in question entered, a dark, ugly
expression on his face. He kicked the
door shut causing it to slam shut.
“Good morning to you too,” Simon grumbled under his breath, knowing
full well that the Sentinel would catch it.
“What the hell is this, sir?” Ellison demanded to know, throwing the stack
of files onto his captain’s desk.
“Your caseload, Ellison. I would advise
you watch your tongue, Detective. You
are walking a thin line here and I do not appreciate your tone,” Banks growled. He watched as anger vied with apologetic chagrin until finally anger
won out.
Simon watched in disbelief as the
detective pulled out his badge and gun and threw them on the desk. “Find
yourself another sap to take your damn caseloads. I am outta here.”
Nothing could have taken Banks by surprise
more that this. He had expected Ellison
to blow but not this way. The anger he
had seen in his friend’s eyes scared him.
It was unnatural and even the old Jim Ellison, the one before Sandburg had
entered into the picture and turned him into a human being, had never, ever shown
this kind of rage. It was not normal at
all. And it had been growing steadily worse right up until now.
With sudden clarity, Simon saw a
confrontation between Sentinel and Guide with the Guide coming out the
loser. The way Ellison had been
treating the kid lately had also scared Banks.
They had almost come to blows two weeks before. If Joel hadn’t stepped in, Simon was certain
that a hospital visit would have resulted.
With the state Ellison was in now, there was no telling what could
happen and Simon just didn’t have the manpower to keep tabs on the detective
even if he could have done so. Jim
Ellison would spot a tail at two hundred yards, probably further.
With a sigh Simon picked up the phone and
dialed the university.
~*~*~*~
Two weeks
earlier
852 Prospect Street, #307
“Sandburg, what the hell is this?” Ellison bellowed. He didn’t have to wait long before his startled roommate came
rushing from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his soap covered body. His
long hair was still full of shampoo which was dripping slowly into his eyes.
“Jim, man, you scared the crap out of
me. What’s wrong now?” There was a touch of concern mingled with a
trace of fear in his voice. Ellison
could tell he was trying to keep it even and controlled but he was a Sentinel
after all and it was hard to pass anything over him.
“I mean that? What the hell is that?”
He pointed to the object in question.
“That is a mask that I am studying for my
class this semester. I’m taking it with
me to school today.”
“You better, I don’t want to see it
again. I'm serious, not ever. Got it?”
He leaned over his smaller partner who cringed back, involuntarily.
“Yeah, man. I got it. Back off
already.” Blair pushed back his wet hair, stopping a trickle of soap from
reaching his eyes. “What is wrong with
you, Jim? You’ve been really touchy this week.
You yell at me for no reason and I don’t understand what I have done.”
“No reason? You think I’ve got no reason?
I have reason, you little punk.
You bring these things things into my house, traipsing dirt and God only
knows what else in here and you say I have no reason to be upset. My nice
ordered life has been turned upside down and it’s your fault. Got that, too?”
Blair stared at his friend, his Sentinel and
his roommate with an expression that could only be interpreted as horror. He took two steps back, his hands coming up
to block a potential blow. He had never
seen Jim this angry before. Even when
he had been thrown up against the wall in his office,it hadn’t been anger. Rather he had seen fear and confusion mixed
with the anger and he had known that Jim Ellison was a man fighting to regain
control. That moment had been a
deciding factor on the course Blair’s life would take. He had felt a connection with this man
then. No, wait, not this man. This was not Jim Ellison, this was someone
else. Someone that he feared a great
deal.
“You afraid of me, Sandburg? That’s good. Be afraid and maybe, just maybe you’ll survive in this
world. Go finish your shower, you left
the water running. I'm not made of
money, you know.”
The words were spoken with such vehemence
that Blair ran from the force of them.
He stepped under the now cold water and rinsed off quickly. Even more quickly, he dressed, grabbed his
things and was out the door. In fact he
was gone so fast that his heart hadn’t even had time to slow down from his
earlier fear.
~*~*~*~
Later that
Afternoon
Major Crimes
Bullpen
Blair was pleased to find Jim was sitting
at his desk but the expression on his face was one of pain. Ellison rubbed absently at his temples
obviously trying to alleviate the throbbing of yet another headache. Someone yelled across the room and Jim
winced from the sudden assault on his sensitive hearing.
“Hey, man,” Blair said softly. He
intentionally kept his voice low and even, falling into what Jim had fondly
referred to as his 'guide voice'. His
words were met with a decidedly hostile glare but he chose to ignore it. He took his seat at his desk, placing his
pack under the coat rack and pulled a pile of reports towards him. He watched Jim surreptitiously as he started
into them. Jim merely glared at
everyone who passed close enough. He
hadn’t spoken yet and that disturbed Blair most.
After several tense minutes, Blair
rose. “I’m going for coffee, Jim. Would you like some?”
“No Sandburg, I’m quite capable of getting
my own coffee. Why don’t you just back
off,” Jim snarled. The voice was so frightening it actually drew beads of sweat
down the back of Blair’s neck.
“Sure, man, whatever. Just offering,” Blair mumbled. Without
another word, he went across the hall into the breakroom. There was a new pot brewing so he decided to
wait for it to finish rather than taking the dregs of the old pot. Who knew how long it had been there anyway?
He sat there at the table with his head in
his hands. His heart felt empty and
rubbed raw with everything he had faced since this whole affair began. He didn’t understand this. Maybe it was some Sentinel thing that the
guide wasn’t supposed to face but that made no sense. After Brackett had introduced the idea of Blair being Jim’s guide
he had researched this. Everything he
had found pointed to the bond between Sentinel and guide being a strong
one. One that was suppose to overcome
all things provide they stuck together.
Blair had learned that the Sentinel and
Guide were essentially bound by this bond for life. There was conclusive
evidence in Burton’s own studies that revealed if a guide was killed the
Sentinel would soon follow him into death and the same was true the other way
around. A symbiotic relationship of
sorts and one that up until recently had not bothered the once transient young
man.
For someone who had never stayed in any
one place long enough to make good friends or call that place home, Blair had
found everything his heart had ever desired in Cascade. A best friend who knew the true meaning of
friendship, a home where he was accepted for what and who he was without
question and other good friends who truly defined the term loyalty. That was what made this whole mess so hard
to cope with.
To add to that was the problem of trying
to reconcile the shooting of Rafe and Megan to what was happening with
Jim. From the timing, one might think
that the two issues were related but Blair could not imagine how someone
outside could be affecting Jim this way.
The only explanation that Blair had been
able to come up with was that Jim was fed up with being dragged into Blair's
messes all the time and this was simply one thing to many. But then again, the volatility of Ellison's
actions led Blair to believe that there was more to it than that.
Blair started as the break room door
slammed shut, shaking the glass in its violence. Jim stood before him with an angry look in his eyes.
“What the hell is taking you so long? I thought you came in here for coffee. We have work to do, let’s go.”
“Damn it, Jim, what is wrong with
you? The coffee wasn’t ready. I was just waiting. I’ll get to the reports when I get
back.” Blair fought down sudden panic
as Jim advanced on him, the look in his Sentinel's eyes more fear inspiring
than the most terrifying horror film he had ever watched. “Jim, come on. Jim? What are you doing,
Jim?”
The door to the break room opened and
Taggart entered with Banks on his heels.
“Coffee ready yet?” The former bomb squad captain asked. He recognized instantly the tension that
permeated the small room. “Everything
okay in here?”
“Yeah, Joel. Everything is just fine,”
Blair said as he turned and rushed from the room. His entire body trembled with the intensity
of what had almost happened. His heart
was racing in his chest which surprised him considering that it felt emptier
now than it had not five minutes earlier.
The hurt he felt when he had seen his best friend’s face projecting
anger towards him was still there, resting in the pit of his stomach making it
churn.
~*~*~*~
Present
Hargrove Hall,
Rainer University
Blair sat at his desk, staring blindly out
the window. He wasn't suppose to be
here, he had no classes today and no office hours. He'd finished the last of his grading the night before last and
had entered those grades into the system just last night. But he had come here seeking a sort of
refuge from the turn his life was taking.
Completely against his will, and leaving
him with no way to fix things, his life was being picked apart by some stranger
who felt Blair owed him. Somehow he
figured that Blair had been responsible for this own failures and was passing
judgement on Blair by attacking his friends.
From that day on, Jim had slowly been
disintegrating into someone that no one wanted to be around. His temper flared for no reason and at no
predictable time. Everyone in Major
Crimes had noticed that his rage seemed more aimed at the observer than anyone
but Blair seemed to shake it off like water from a duck's back.
The young anthropologist had taken to
spending more and more time at the University doing research into Sentinel behavior.
There wasn't much that he hadn't read but he hoped something would come to him
to explain the strange and terrifying personality shift Jim had undergone.
Even just remembering the last few weeks
was hard. The thought that someone
could possibly hate him enough to try and kill two of his good friends combined
with the horror that he was losing his best friend and brother to some strange
personality disorder and was breaking him down a little piece at a time.
One minute it was just the yelling and angry
words that Blair feared and the next it was the physical abuse he might
sustain. He didn't want to believe it
but it did seem that James Ellison was finally growing to hate his Guide,
perhaps even enough to kill him.