Midnight on Prospect

Part 2

"Come on, Jim. Let me drive you to the hospital." Simon led the unresisting Sentinel to his car and settled him into the front seat.

The ambulance had already arrived by the time Simon brought Jim into the emergency room so he made sure the man was settled before going to the admitting desk. A pile of forms was waiting to be filled out which he brought them back for Jim to fill in. It would at least keep him occupied until they had word on Blair’s condition.

"Jim, are you alright here? Do I need to get a doctor for you too?" Simon asked, nudging Ellison’s arm lightly to get his attention. He could tell the Sentinel was focusing in on Blair, trying to hear what was happening. "Don’t you dared zone on me, Ellison. I don’t have the patience for molly coddling you right now. Snap out of it." He hated it when Jim did this to him. He wasn’t sure how Blair managed, quite frankly it scared him to death when Ellison just faded like that.

"I’m okay, Simon." Jim said, pulling his arm out of Simon's grasp.

Let’s get these finished then you can tell me what you know about what happened." He passed the clipboard with its multitude of forms to the detective who filled them in quickly. Simon realized that Jim had most of the information memorized now and they had both done this far too often.

Jim wrote his signature one last time before dropping the pen onto the clipboard. He shook his head as if to clear it. Simon watched as the detective rose and walked to the admitting desk where he dropped off the forms. The nurse indicated they could go up to the third floor where Blair's doctor would be with them shortly.

Once they were seated in the third floor waiting room, Jim's pale blue eyes met Simon's darker ones in anticipation of what was coming next.

"So what happened, Jim?"

"I just wish I knew. I checked on him earlier and he was fine. Next thing I know there is no sound from downstairs; he wasn’t breathing and his heart stopped. Why?" Simon could hear the growing despair.

"I have no idea, Jim. We’ll just have to wait on the doctors for the answer to that one. I know that this case really got to him but I never expected this sort of reaction.""

"I didn't either Simon, I watched Blair over the last few weeks and you have no idea what he was going through. He wasn’t sleeping well and when he did, he had nightmares.  Bad ones.  He refused to talk about them but they had been gradually getting worse until tonight. He's been breaking apart a little more each night. Two nights ago he almost broke his knuckles on the wall of his bedroom."

"Damn! I had no idea it was that bad." Simon closed his eyes, trying to block out the image that Jim's words conjured before him. He didn't understand why the kid stayed on, what it was that really kept Sandburg by Ellison's side. He'd been through so much, kidnappings, gunfire, beatings and even having been shot during his ride with the detective. How much could one man take in the name of friendship?

That had to be the scariest thought. What did Sandburg really get out of this partnership? Simon couldn’t see the benefits. Aside from many physical injuries, Blair suffered heartache, harassment, and hassles; most of which came from the man who was supposed to be his partner. Plus, and this Simon really didn’t understand, Sandburg had the wonderful privilege of being able to work on cases like this last one. Cases that not only turned the stomach, but stayed with you for days, if not weeks and into months. They remained through vivid images inside your head, which hid during the day when you could control them, but at night, when your defences are lowest, they returned.

This, Simon knew from his own experiences. He had seen much throughout his years, first as a beat cop, then as a detective. Now, as a Captain, he didn’t have to do as much field work, at least he hadn’t had to until a certain anthropology grad student entered his life and turned it upside down. Blair had insisted that Simon had to be with Jim if he couldn’t. Someone had to watch to make sure the Sentinel didn’t zone out and get killed. He had insisted to Simon, in confidence, that since Simon was the only other person who knew of Jim’s abilities, it fell to the Captain to be there. God, he hated that.

"I’m going for coffee." Simon told the detective who still hadn’t moved other than to take the clipboard of forms. "Jim! Come on, stay focused. The kid needs you to remain with us. Here in this world, you know."

The words seemed to get through the fog-encrusted brain as Jim looked up. Simon glared at the detective long enough to make sure he understood. He breathed a sigh of relief when Jim finally nodded.

The time passed slowly, one hour, two. Dawn began with the rising of the sun, a cool glow somewhere outside that didn’t quite reach the Cascade General Hospital’s waiting room. The men, five now after having been joined by Henri Brown, Brian Rafe and Joel Taggart, waited impatiently for news on the young police observer and his condition.

Simon’s phone rang and he excused himself. He headed outside to speak quietly to the caller. When he returned it was obvious that the news wasn’t good.

"That was Booking. The Feds came to get Grant and Michaels. About one hour ago, their car was located off Route 41, along with two bodies. They managed to kill the Marshals and escape. I’m sorry Jim. I know how hard you and the kid worked on this one. The Feds have people combing the area, they won’t get away.

"Damn it, Simon. I can’t deal with this right now. Neither can Blair. This whole thing is what set him off and probably caused this…this…whatever this is. I just can’t do that to him."

"I know, but you’re off it now anyway. The Feds have it and all you need to worry about is your partner and getting the last of the paperwork done. When you can, not now."

"Thanks, Simon." Jim gave him a tight smile but his attention soon drifted back towards the ER doors. It was another hour before the doctor appeared.

"Are you gentlemen waiting for Mr. Sandburg?" He asked.

"Yes, I’m Captain Simon Banks and this is his partner, Detective Jim Ellison. How is he?"

"Well, he is still unconscious but his breathing is stable and his heart rate had returned to normal rhythm. He is going to recover but I won’t know what, if any damage was done during the period he was without oxygen. Until he wakes there is no way to know for sure, but the EEG, MRI and CT scans are encouraging."

"Can we see him?" Jim asked, tension filling him once more. He just needed to see his Guide, make sure he was really okay."

"He’s in room 412. Try to keep it short though, he needs his rest."

"Doctor, do you know why this happened?" Simon asked, watching Ellison head for the hospital room.

"Not for certain. There is no physical reason for this to have occurred. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say it was trauma induced. He appeared to have hyperventilated to the point of unconsciousness but the normal autonomic function that should have taken over when he lost consciousness didn’t and his breathing didn’t resume normally." The doctor saw the look, which crossed the tall black man’s face and continued. "I do believe that Detective Ellison’s quick thinking and efforts saved his life and that he will make a full recovery. To be sure, we just have to wait."

"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate everything you’ve done and I know Jim does too."

~*~*~*~

Jim entered Blair’s room slowly, pushing the door opened on silent hinges. The bed was directly opposite the door so he didn’t have to go far to find the person he sought.

Blair lay still, his face slack and the pain lines were gone now. An IV had been started in his hand and a heart monitor attached to his chest where a small amount of hair had been shaved to make room for the electrodes.. The monitor itself beeped a regular rhythm, steady and pleasingly strong. An oxygen tube had been clipped to his nose but at least he hadn’t needed to be intubated. Blair hated that.

Jim moved closer to the bed, grabbing a chair to bring it near for him to sit. He looked down at the man who had changed his life and made it so much better. The white face with darkened, sunken eyes tore through Jim’s heart. A moan fought its way up his throat at the sorry sight before him. He wanted desperately to gather the young man into his arms and protect him from all the evils of the world but he knew that he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper for a man to express affection that way. That much of his father’s teaching had stuck with him.

Ellison reached out gently and gathered the limp hand in his own, clasping it firmly, squeezing once gently to let Blair know he was there. He waited, hoping, praying for some sort of response but there was none. There was no movement, no change in heartbeat, breathing or anything else that would let Jim know Blair was waking. That silence was deafening.

He began to speak, softly, to Blair. He wasn’t sure what he was saying but he knew the words had to be encouraging for he didn’t know anything else when it came to this man, his brother. He couldn’t say anything that would hurt him. He knew that now. Had even known it for a while. Even with everything he had put Blair through, their friendship has only grown stronger and the two men, closer.

Jim lost track of time. He knew only that when awareness re-filtered through to him that his throat was dry from all his talking. He noticed that the heart monitor had been unhooked and that the room was now quiet. How long he had been there he had no idea. He didn’t even remember if Simon had come in or spoken to him. He had totally zoned out on his partner. If that was the case, then what had brought him out of it?

He was then aware of the grip on his hand. A tight, won’t ever let go kind of hold that only his partner could manage. He looked up and saw two bright blue, beautiful eyes staring at him.

"Hey, Chief. How you feeling?"

"Sore. Thirsty." Came the soft whisper. Blair smiled, obviously happy to see Jim there. Not that Jim would ever be elsewhere; this was where he belonged, at his partner’s side.

Rising, Jim moved around the bed to the nightstand there. He poured some cool water into a cup which he covered and placed a straw into, to make it easier to drink. Blair managed a few sips before collapsing back into the pillows in exhaustion.

"You gave us quite a scare. Please don’t ever do that to me again." Jim said with a teasing tone in his voice, but he really wasn’t joking. He didn’t think he could ever go through that again.

"Wha’ happn’d?"

"You stopped breathing in your sleep. I don’t know how long you were like that but it scared the hell out of me."

"Don’ ‘member. Sorry." Blair closed his sleepy eyes but they flashed open again, no longer sleepy but wide, the whites all but overshadowing the dark blue of the irises as fear surfaced. "Dream… dream…. awful. Oh, God."

Jim watched helplessly as Blair’s breathing became more and more difficult while he fought to control the panic attack. He groped out blindly for anything to anchor himself.

Jim took the outreached hands to pulled him upright in the bed. He wrapped his arms around Blair, needing to give solace to his friend. Trembling hands immediately gripped the front of Jim’s sweater with a hold that belied his weakened condition, seeking comfort and security as he leaned forward against Jim. Slowly Jim felt the tension drain away leaving only exhaustion in its place. He held Blair easily, stroking his hand up and down his back in a comforting gesture until Blair pushed him away.

"’m okay now, thanks." He mumbled. He sank back into the mattress, eyes closed, nostril flaring as he drew deep, steadying breaths. "Can I go home now?"

"They are keeping you overnight to monitor you so try and get some rest. I’m going to let Simon know what’s up. I’ll come back in a while, okay.

"Yeah." Blair closed his eyes again. "Hey, man. Thanks."

"Yeah, well. Let’s not try for a repeat performance anytime too soon." And on that note, he left the room.

~*~*~*~

Part 3

Home