The Vanquished

By EJKatz

Jim opened the blinds, allowing the early morning sunshine to enter the loft. Instead of the usual warm homey feeling, the golden glow of sun did nothing to warm the interior. Nothing would anymore.

Gone were the small touches that had made the loft a home. There were no more weird artifacts and masks gracing the wall, no more anthropology books lining the bookcases, and no more Blair.

It had been almost two years now since Blair had left after the fiasco with Alex Barnes, international thief and would-be Sentinel. She may be locked up in a psyche ward but the way the whole affair had played out had done something to Blair. Jim had watched his best friend gradually become more and more morose as time passed. For three weeks he went to school, came home, pretended to eat and went to bed. There was no life in him.

Jim had tried to put the whole situation behind him. Neither man had attempted to talk about what happened though now, in retrospect, Jim realized that had been the wrong thing to do.

He had returned from work one evening to find the loft cleaned out of all of Blair's things. A note lay on the table. It had been short and not a bit sweet. He still remembered the words written in Blair's neat handwriting.

Jim:

I have decided it is time for me to move on. Thanks for the place to stay. Don't look for me, I won't be coming back. Take care of yourself and I am sure Megan will watch your back better than I ever did.

Blair.

Nothing but cold impersonal words on a stark white piece of paper. It had been then that Jim realized that his not speaking to Blair about what had gone down with Alex had made Blair think that not only didn't Jim trust him but that Blair now thought he had failed his Sentinel.

Jim had searched for Blair. For nearly six months. The only thing he had found was the storage company where Blair had put his things. He had paid cash for one year's worth of storage up front. Other than that, there was no sign of the young grad student anywhere.

The hardest thing for Jim had been knowing that he was at fault. He was the one who refused to initiate conversations. He had wrongly assumed that Blair merely needed to process the whole ordeal and then like always, he would demand to talk about it and then, only then would Jim talk. Until that time, Jim would let Blair dictate the time frame.

What he hadn’t realized was that Blair wasn’t dealing with it. In fact, Blair was terrified to say anythig about it because he feared the repercussions. He fear Jim’s response, that maybe he would be thrown out again or worse, that Jim would reject him completely. So instead of discussing it, the whole affair tore them further apart until Blair had no other choice but to leave.

And leave he did. Not a trace of the grad student was found, if he was working he wasn’t using regular routes. His social security number was inactive. His credit cards were with zero balances and hadn’t been used at all.

Jim didn’t know what to do anymore. He’d finally had to give up the search. It was draining not just his bank balance but to his emotions. That was a year ago. One year ago today that he’d had to give up on ever finding his best friend again.

Pulling a bottle of scotch from under the sink, he poured several fingers into a glass. He threw it back, revelling in the heavy burning sensation as it travel down his throat and nestled in a warm weight in his stomach. He repeated the process once more, then pour three more fingers and put the bottle back. On second thought he took the bottle again and carried it with his glass to the livingroom. Tonight he would get smashed, tonight he would drink away his regrets and guilt.

Tonight, he would mourn the loss of his best friend and Guide.

Tonight he would drink himself to oblivion.

~*~*~*~

He had no idea what woke him, or how long he’d been asleep. He could still feel the effect of the alcohol in his system and he rolled over to go back to sleep when he heard it again. A faint knocking at the door.

With a groan he rolled himelf off the bed and to his feet. Without bothering to grab his robe, he made his way gingerly down the steps, his head pounding with each step. Silently cursing whatever fool came banging on his door at this rediculous hour of the morning, he threw the door open, ready to verbally pounce on whoever was on the other side.

His heart stopped as he recognized the crumpled figure on the floor. The one person he never expectd to see again.

“Blair?”

The End???