Hiding in plain sight

>>>>Prologue<<<<<

It was a gradual thing. It was subtle and done with such finesse that Jim didn't see it for what it was at first. He would have coped better, known quicker if Blair had just come out and admitted it to his face. But Blair was good at shadow dancing, making you think one thing and then hit you over the head with something else when you weren't looking. So far Jim was not thinking, not seeing. The whammy over the head came later, when it was almost too late. He should have known better. Really he should.

Jim was used to being blind sided, leaps in the dark, and the bogey man in the woodshed, under the bed, crashed helicopters and survival in the jungle. The truth of it was that neither of them expected the mad man in the Loft.

Their Loft.

Sanctuary.

Home.

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

Blair

Blair locked his car, hitched his backpack more securely on his shoulder and turned towards Rainer Hall. Another day another dollar. It was early, earlier than he had to be, but here he was. He could crash in his office for an hour or two or something. He was sure that Jim must be able to hear the way he was grabbed, heart thumping, sweating and gasping into wakefulness during the night. Night after night.

He unlocked his office door and sank into the chair at his desk. He was going to mark some student reports and then…and then he was supposed to be where?…..damn he had a timetable somewhere didn't he? Before long he realised he could not remember a word of the report he'd just read and that he had drifted into thinking about the events of the last few days.

<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

Coming round tied up in chains with his wrists and ankles manacled and gagged with that horrible yellow scarf had been bad. Very bad. But he wanted to talk and soon removed the gag. Blair always talked his way out of things, he tried to distract him or change his mind…something…anything. And all the while his mind was screaming …. Jim…Jim…. Get me out of here…please . Buying time, hoping for a miracle. Then realising he was doomed when Lash forced the liquid down his throat. He tried hard to resist, but the madman gripped his nose shut, half choked him and he sucked in the liquid with his next breath. Tried to spit it out.

Jim had appeared out of nowhere and rescued him from…no… not going to say his name….

He remembered yelling and a fight between Jim and Him and the crash of plate glass as they fell through it. Blair had been half out of it by them, but aware enough to know he might not be rescued after all. With the drug slowly seeping through his system he had registered many gun shots….Jim!

And then after what seemed like a millennia -the sound of someone stumbling towards him, a blurry figure reaching for him, and gathered him up and held him tightly against a solid chest, transferring much needed warmth to his chilled skin. He hoped it was Jim, he really did. The darkness rushed in.

Waking in the hospital he'd panicked at first not sure if it was another weird game of….go on say it…say it! Lash's …. or not. Just as he got worried and the monitors picked his increasing heart rate Jim rushed in, a doctor and nurse close behind him.

“Blair! You're okay, this is the hospital, and you're okay. You're safe. I'm here now. Lash is dead.”

“wha…? No! Get chains!” he hissed as he realised something was stuck in his hand…..an IV.

“It's okay now, Sandburg. It's okay. The chains are off,” Jim had soothed gripping one hand and checking his forehead with the other. “I was talking with the doctor outside for just a second. You'll be fine. You did really well out there.”

Blair gave a weak smile. “My Blessed protector…” he croaked, Jim passed him some water to sip, the doctor nodding his okay. Blair knew Jim had done some sort of Sentinel equivalent of a medical exam. He'd seen, heard and touched him and he hoped the guy hadn't smelt or tasted him…on the other hand, his mind thought crazily…interesting data could be had….file it for later.

“What was that you mumbled?”

“Saved my life…” said Blair caught in emotion, realising he was okay, in hospital and seeing Jim solid and whole.

“Damn right I did!”

“You okay?” Blair suddenly asked hitching himself up to peer at Jim.

“Shhh, settle down. I'm fine. A few bumps and bruises that's all.”

“Sure?” queried Blair, remembering thuds and a fight and the glass breaking.

“Yes. The doc's going to check you out and see if you can get out of here tomorrow morning okay?” Jim patted his leg and stepped out of the room for a minute.

Blair nodded, tired. Not really thinking…home…the Loft…..NO!

The doctor checking his readings and about to check bruises and abrasions looked at him in concern as Blair gasped and flinched at something only he could see.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I uhh...still feel bad; maybe I can stay a little longer?”

“I see no reason to keep you after this batch of tests comes back to confirm no kidney or liver damage,” the doctor reassured him, writing up his chart as the nurse collected the samples.

Jim came back in.

“ Look Chief we don't have to go back to the loft. We can book into a hotel.”

“No man it's your home. We can't let him win this one. I'll be okay. I want to be with my things, my stuff, you know,” rallied Blair valiantly.

“Okay, if that's what you want.”

“Yes.”

Turning over to get comfortable Blair sighed. He didn't want to go home and yet he knew he had to, that he should.  He breathed out slowly, his eyes scrunched shut. He felt a hand fiddle with the IV tubing and pull the sheet and blanket up to cover him more. Jim…

“Blair?” Jim asked softly and he felt a warm large hand cover his free hand.

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry I didn't get the beeper message earlier…”

“S'okay.”

“No it isn't! If I'd been there...”

Blair opened his eyes, “He'd a got you too, then who'd rescue us? Can we go home… soon?”

“Not if you don't want to yet, or the doc says no.”

“I'm okay.”

“Yeah, right.” said Jim scornfully.

“I will be. Sleep now- talk later...”

<<<<<<>>>>>>

Blair reached into his pack for a bottle of water, pushed the reports aside and rested his head in his hands. The sounds of staff and students seeped through his closed door.

<<<>>>>>>

And he had gone back to sleep in the hospital but they didn't talk later. He should have known. Jim wasn't that kind of guy. And while Jim had definitely hovered in the hospital and kept looking at him since he came home- he didn't do anything else. Absurdly he found Jim's lack of concern annoying. One second he was rejecting the anxiety the detective felt for him but at the same time he wanted the Blessed Protector back. He wanted to feel warm and safe.

Get a grip Sandburg, you're all over the place!

Blair knew he'd put on a really good performance at Major Crimes the day he'd come home and he'd gone in to give his statement and see everybody. He almost bounced on his toes but couldn't quite pull that one off. They watched the news report in the bull pen and afterwards he'd reminded Jim about the Blessed Protector shtick. He asked Jim if he meant what he said and Jim said he'd done everything right, but maybe the big guy was just being polite. His acting worked and they had some weird conversation about tats and earrings as they got in the elevator.

Jim thought he was okay, Blair was dealing with it-he'd checked his humanity at the door like he accused Jim of doing. But Blair hadn't and never would. Jim should know that by now.

Blair felt so angry and mad- at himself, Lash and Jim too. Clearly his diversionary tactics were working on Jim and the gang in Major Crimes.

He should be strong, he was. Usually. Not now. Lash had proven it. How could he be so stupid? Waiting for Jim to appear and then bam! the door was kicked open. A split second to register it wasn't Jim and then he fought back with everything he knew. Jim was going to be pissed at the trashed loft- the third time in as many months. Until finally he was overpowered by brute force.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

Blair checked his watch. Damn- time to go to work, where had the time gone? He could do work- he wasn't sure about home anymore.

He made it through the day taking classes, retreating back to his office supposedly doing some research. He knew something had to change when someone banged on his door and came in- scaring him out of his chair, heart lurching, adrenaline pumping.

Fight or flight- it gets you every time.

Of course it wasn't Lash, just a student wanting an extension on an essay. He'd always had an open door policy. Ha, that was a joke, right? He kept telling everybody that he was alright and now the student must think he was a complete idiot, seen a ghost or something. More shocks like this and he was going to swoon like a character in a cheap Victorian novel.

Time to go home. Except he didn't want to. He dragged things out as long as he could. He hoped Jim was home before he was, so he wouldn't have to sit in an empty loft and wait for the door to open. Either that or pretend to be asleep.

Time to put on a happy face, he thought as he went to his car. He got in and turned the key but nothing happened, it just died on him. He sat there not thinking. Turned the key again. Nothing.  A bit like he felt at present.

Now he really would be late and have a real excuse for Jim. Or he could call Jim. Except he didn't want to. Jim had rescued him enough lately. He could walk home.

“Having car trouble, Blair?” asked Jake, a fellow TA, on the way to the bus stop.

“Yeah.”

“Heard you trying the engine. Did you leave lights on or something? Maybe the battery died?”

“Man, that's all I need. Guess I'll walk home.”

“What about your friend the cop, aren't you crashing at his place for a while?”

”Um, yeah. But he uh, he's on a case, won't be back. And I'm thinking about looking for another place anyway.”

“Why not come back with me and see Tessa while you're at it. She likes all your wacky tribe tales. She cooks a mean lasagne.”

“I'm not good company right now Jake.”

“Even more reason to take an evening out, man. We heard about what happened. Come on, one night- what harm can it do?”

Blair was back at work- he existed. He was coping wasn't he? He was busy, so it was okay to be late home now and then wasn't it? He wasn't running away, was he? Was he?

Who am I now?

Do I make a good you?

Get a grip. Do something. Don't just sit there like a wet fish…

“Okay. Let's go.”

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

Jim

Detective Ellison opened the door to the loft calling out, “Chief?- it's me. Jim” as he entered. He put his keys in the basket and went to the fridge for a drink.

He scanned the loft. It looked…better, but the damage was still evident if you looked hard enough. And he had. Simon had prised his spare key from him at the hospital, and with a couple of the guys from the squad, had squared the loft away for them. He knew he had to fill out insurance claim forms soon but doing that brought back memories of arriving at the loft with his gun drawn, yelling for Blair and finding only the destruction left in the wake of Blair's desperate fight for survival.

Blair wasn't back yet. Again. He thought about it. That made every night this week since he'd come out of hospital didn't it? Was this usual? He tried to remember Blair's university schedule and when he was supposed to be with Jim in Major Crimes. He wasn't sure.

How had he not noticed? Because Blair was good at coming in shortly afterwards- so far. But it was late now and where was his roommate and police observer? His friend…he rolled the word around in his brain and decided he liked it. He had lots of acquaintances; good solid friends on the other hand, were hoarded and treasured.

He didn't know what to do or say to Sandburg . How many times could he say he was sorry he'd missed the beeper call? Precious time was spent trying to narrow down information, time spent at the last victim's house retrieving the down feather from the bath drain and later persuading Carolyn to let him sniff the water. Oh, Blair would have been proud. Will be proud…

And all the time a little voice in the back of his head muttered please don't be dead; please don't be dead like the others...

Thank God for gut instincts leading him to the waterfront abandoned warehouses and for Simon for letting him run with it. The relief he'd felt when he heard Blair's voice...and the swell of anger when he heard Lash. How dare he! He choked the rage down and concentrated on working his way to the warehouse in time. No time to wait for the backup he had to go.

<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>

Jim saw the message light on the phone and listened. Blair was staying over with a friend tonight. Jim suddenly knew that if he didn't do or say something soon Blair was going to slide right out of his life quicker than he'd slid right in several months ago.

He remembered joking with Joel about his new room mate when Sandburg's warehouse had been blown up- ‘keeping weird hours, eating strange food he couldn't pronounce, but that the monkey was okay…' but he'd said it with a grin on his face. Jim didn't feel like smiling any more.

Jim had registered Blair's first response to the idea of going home -wanting to stay in the hospital longer, hoping he wasn't well enough to come home yet.

It was a natural reaction of course but it hurt all the same. He didn't like the almost wheedling tone of Blair's voice. From what he'd seen of Sandburg in bad situations so far- he was a tough cookie who thought on his feet but was man enough to admit he was scared later.

Jim thought back to how spooked Blair had been at seeing the dead woman in the bathtub. Jim had tried to reassure him that he just had to distance himself from it a little. Jim had been certain Blair wasn't the leak on the case like Simon had suggested but it had made things awkward at work.

They were still getting used to each other as flatmates- the ‘one week' promise had come and gone and Blair stayed. Jim had let him even after the Larry debacle. Jim had seen the kind of rentals Blair circled in the ads columns. The new places would make his previous rat infested, cold warehouse next to the meth lab seem like paradise in comparison. There was no way he was going to let him go back to that kind of existence.

Oh sure, detective. Save him from gun toting, meth producing gang warfare and throw him out to the nearest passing psychopath who just wanted to murder him and then pretend to be him.

Jim prowled round the loft, restless - too many thoughts running around in his head. Too many ‘what if's'. If he'd gotten the beeper message earlier, if he hadn't been able to persuade Carolyn to let him sniff the contaminated water samples…if he hadn't been able to get to the gun in time during the fight with David Lash….

But who was he kidding? Blair was alright. They'd got to the hospital in time. He knew that- he'd been monitoring Sandburg all the time without really thinking about it. The mere fact that he could, was due to Blair taking the time to be patient with him and getting him to focus. As much as he hated the ‘lab rat' sessions as he internally dubbed them, he and Sandburg were making significant progress, especially now they were sharing the loft.

Jim wanted to tell him so, to thank him. Now, he wasn't so sure that Blair wanted to be quite so hands on in an investigation again. Ironically enough it had been Blair's insight that had helped them during the serial killer case. Simon had given Jim an out if he had wanted it, but Jim had backed Sandburg 100%. And it had almost cost him his life.

This was nuts- he was going round in circles. Sandburg was a grown man who could decide for himself what he wanted to do with his life. The madman in the loft had shaken them both he concluded.

Jim made supper but ended up pushing most of it round the plate. It was too quiet. And he could still smell the disturbed air and cleaner and polish Simon and the guys had used. Maybe he could even smell Blair's fear….

Perhaps Sandburg's ‘time out' with his friends tonight would help him get things into perspective.

He tidied the kitchen before sitting down gingerly to watch some TV. He had plenty of bruises and scrapes from rescuing Blair and for that reason alone he welcomed them. Every time he heard the lift, he tensed waiting to see if it was Blair, but realised he hadn't heard his car first. He stayed up very late, hoping Sandburg might appear and they could talk.  Jim wondered where Blair was and if he was going to come back again.

He went to bed after midnight but woke every hour or so after dreaming of not getting to Blair in time, that the drugs had killed him after all.

He tossed and turned until 0630 and flung himself out of bed unable to bear it any longer. A long hot shower would help his bruises and ensure the cuts he'd got from the glass were kept clean after all the gunk he fallen in, on and through. He hadn't broken any ribs during his two heavy falls to the floor but he was bruised and sore. He scrubbed himself dry harder than intended and broke open some of the cuts on his arms and hands. He watched the blood well and bead before shaking his head and blotting them. No zoning without Blair….not allowed…

The phone rang and he rushed out with the towel wrapped round his hips. Sandburg! But no, it was Simon- the hospital and police dispatch had informed him that Sandburg had been involved in some sort of fight and he and the victim were being checked out prior to being taken back to the station for booking or whatever.

He said he'd be there and almost threw the phone down. This couldn't be happening! What on earth was going on? Blair didn't get involved in fights. Maybe it was a mistake?

He went back the bathroom to put his boxers and robe on and then get dressed. As he threw the towel hard at the basket, it fell over. When he picked up the spilled clothes he saw a plastic bag with Blair's stuff from the hospital. He clutched at the flannel fabric, almost smelling the fear. He smelt residue from the drugs Lash had used and his fingers brushed at the fabric.

No time for this wool gathering, Blair needed him now! As a cop and a friend.

Minutes later he was dressed and out of the loft and pulling out of the parking lot with a screech and jerk of the wheel. His mind wandered and found he had to stop himself from driving into the central barrier. How had that happened? He yawned widely and concentrated on the road. Even so he found he rode the front wheels up onto the curb at the hospital.

Suddenly he was there, parting the curtain of Sandburg's cubicle. It was rude he knew that, to barge in, but he had to know, had to see…

And Blair looked fine. A bit rumpled and annoyed. Alive. Okay. Maybe a bit pissed off…

“Jim!”

“What the hell happened?!” that came out wrong, why didn't he ask how Blair was, rather than yelling at him?

“I'm fine, it was a mugging...”

Visions of drug crazed man with a knife, or with a baseball bat surged through Jim. He went light headed, the room faded in and out.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he said angrily.

“I thought I was saving Tessa life...” Blair said as the room totally greyed out and he felt himself sliding down the door frame. “Jim? Jim!” followed him into the white noise and dark.

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

Blair.

Despite his inner turmoil he had enjoyed the evening meal and conversation with Jake and Tessa. For a while he completely forgot about things between him and Jim and not being in the loft. And then he was pleasantly tired and full of food and his hosts handed him a spare blanket and pillow and he continued his subsidence into the couch.

He woke early, brain alert wanting to be doing something. He didn't have his laptop, but he wrote in his journal for a bit. After a quick shower, he made some coffee and toast and was almost out of the door when Tessa appeared.

“I'm off now. Thanks for the respite. I need it.”

“You're welcome to stay longer if you need.” she offered.

“Thanks, but I'd better be getting back.”

“Okay, we'll catch you later. Take care.”

He said goodbye to a tousled Jake who appeared behind her, headed for the shower.

Letting himself out of the flat he walked quickly down the street, yawning and thinking about the day ahead and not really looking at passers by.

He dimly registered the frantic shout of his name and jerked back wards. Tessa had followed him and was standing on the stoop- his bag and journal…how could he have forgotten them? His sentinel notes! But a man was trying to wrestle the bag away. A flash of a knife and he had an arm round her neck and pressed into the alcove of the building. Tessa let out a choked squeal.

Blair didn't need to think twice, he reacted. Disable bad guy, save Tessa, get notes. He ran towards them. Fishing in his pockets for the yo-yo he had confiscated during class yesterday, he threw it as he neared, making the guy flinch and turn round. And suddenly he was there pulling the man off and hitting and hitting him, taking a few knocks in return. A bit of a scuffle for the knife. More yelling and sirens and shouting all competed for his attention.

And then the bad guy was on the ground not moving, Blair's knee in his back, and Blair's knuckles all reddened and he was breathing fast. There were uniformed cops and Jake, damp but dressed and Tessa were there and loud voices. And suddenly the anger died, seeping out of him like a deflated balloon. Jesus, what had he done?

Jake was comforting Tessa, while another cop got a statement from them and other witnesses. The other policeman had been talking to him for a while but Blair was only just registering him. He fancied he looked like a wild man of Borneo , he stifled the laugh that bubbled up, worried the uniform would think he'd gone mad. Oh, Jim was going to just love this, he thought as the ambulance stuck them  in the back and trundled off.

In the hospital things calmed down as the situation cleared, the policemen didn't seem quite so menacing. And then someone said Jim was on his way.

Great.

Jim appeared while he was being checked out, looking as frazzled as he felt, then typically shouted at him...

I was only trying to help! You wanted me to let the guy mug or kill Tessa?

And then Jim collapsed in front of him, well- more of a dramatic slide down the doorframe actually. Nothing happened for a few seconds, the doctor rushed over and called for a nurse. And in the middle of all this Simon appeared.

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

Jim

“Jim?” a familiar voice pulled him from his lethargy. Why was he dozing when Sandburg was in trouble? Neurons fired and muscles tensed. Zombie like he opened his eyes and sat up in one swift motion, scaring the daylights out of Simon and Sandburg. Simon pressed the buzzer for medical staff.

“Sandburg?” he queried, scanning him for breakages, leaks and, God, anything…anything at all.

“Jim, Sandburg's alright. He's not being charged with anything. We can tell you all about it later.” Simon assured him.

“You want to know what happened to you?” asked Blair, seeing the question in Jim's eyes.

Jim nodded, his eyes latched onto the sight of Blair's bandaged knuckles and bruised face.

The doctor bustled in as Jim realised he wasn't on a gurney in ER but in a room.

“Rip van Winkle awakes!” He chuckled as he checked the readings and asked Jim how he felt.

“Fine.”

“Well you weren't fine this morning. Any idea how you ingested a powerful narcotic and then drove yourself to the hospital? You had us quite worried- non responsive with depressed respiration and falling BP. But we flushed the choral hydrate out of your system and you're good to go.”

“Drugs? No way. Hang on…. Sandburg's clothes, I put them in the hamper before I came out. I must have got it on me then.”

“Blood tests reveal it was a minute amount but it sure kicked like a mule for you. Never seen such a strong reaction to so small an amount before, I must say.”

There was a short pregnant pause, before Jim stepped in,

“I was in the Army Rangers, I got exposed to all kinds of stuff and I was stuck in Peru isolated from modern medicine for a quite a while, so I suppose I'm a bit more allergic to substances now than I used to be, doc”

“Hmm, okay. If you say so. It's cleared out of your system now. Your records show no prior prescription or addiction to this drug, so I am going to let you go. I'll make a note in your records for future use.” the doctor commented as he left.

“That was quick thinking Jim,” said Simon.

“Sandburg and I discussed what we might have to say to medical personnel, a month or so ago.”

“Yeah, we did,” Sandburg smiled at him “It worked like a charm.”

“Let's blow this popsicle stand. I want to go home, have something to eat. And then I think Darwin and I need to talk about things. Like how to deal with stuff.” Jim fretted.

“Sounds like a plan. I'm not sure the department would recommend getting involved in a mugging as therapy for its civilian workers. But I understand your reasons, Sandburg and it ended okay,” soothed Simon.

“Yeah, well. I couldn't not do anything!” said Blair beginning to get worried all over again.

“Looks like I have two heroes in the department. I hate it when I start having to make the doors bigger…” Simon joked as he opened the locker, tossing clothes to Jim.

“Let's go home before he says anything else embarrassing.” Blair grumbled.

“That's the best thing I've heard so far,” Jim agreed.

END