Sentinel Fic: Papercut 5/5
Part 4
The smell was the first thing that clued Blair into his location. Hospitals always came with the distinctive odour that just screamed 'medicine'. Warmth surrounded him and, despite the throbbing of his back, he felt pretty comfortable.
Until he moved.
His eyes shot open at the flares of pain that shot through his body. His immediate view was of the mattress on which he was laying . He was on his stomach, a sheet draped loosely over his torso and the pricking sensation in his hand drew his attention to the IV that trailed up to its metal stand. A large hand on his shoulder startled him
"Take it easy, Chief. Relax. Don't try to move."
Taking the advice to heart, Blair only moved his eyes -- about the only thing that wasn't screaming in protest. Jim's smiling, yet concerned face slowly swam into focus. His first attempt at talking resulted in a harsh croak that made Jim wince and reach for a glass of water. The older man stuck a straw into it.
"Here you go. Just take a couple of sips. Don't overdo it. You've been dehydrated and your stomach won't like it if you drink too much." Jim patiently explained as he slipped the straw into position, made awkward by Blair's unusual position. Blair gratefully sucked cold mouthfuls of the water. When his mouth no longer felt like a desert, he pillowed his head on his folded arms, looking sideways at Jim.
"What happened? I mean, I know what happened. Sort of. Things got kind of blurry at the end there."
"Paul and Rafael are dead. Marcie is in custody, facing kidnapping, assault, accessory to first degree murder and fraud."
Blair pondered the fate of his captors, when he latched onto the last word that Jim had spoken.
"Fraud?"
"Yeah. It seems that the victims weren't random. She actually was picking them out, unbeknownst to the others. She had sold them all insurance with the stipulation in the fine print that if they died she would get the money. Not very subtle, and god knows why she thought she could get away with it. But criminals aren't very smart very often, huh?"
Blair managed a small grin.
"I saw what was on the video tape, Chief."
Blair closed his eyes at the guilt in Jim's voice. When he opened them again, Jim was fiddling with the corners of the plastic arms of his chair, clearly using Sentinel touch to distract himself. The drugs were making thinking incredibly difficult and his eyelids felt incredibly heavy. A comforting hand stroking his hair accompanied the voice that bid him rest. Complying he sank back into sleep.
What seemed like moment later, he bolted upright, shaking from the terrors that chased him in his dreams. Hands touching him, voices taunting him, blows hurting him. He pulled up his knees to his chest, whimpering and rocking slowly back and forth to dispel the phantasms.
"Blair?" The groggy voice of his partner, pulled Blair back to reality. He raised his head from where he had buried it in his arms. Jim was slouched in a backbreaking position next to the hospital bed. The red-rimmed eyes betrayed the worry that Jim had for his Guide.
"Jim?" Blair winced at the sound of his voice. It sounded child-like, afraid and desperately in need of some reassurance. But fortunately he had a friend who was never frugal with comfort. Strong arms enfolded him, mindful of the healing wounds.
"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked and then laughed softly. "Stupid question, I suppose."
Blair took a shaky breath.
"I'll be okay, Jim. Really." He was in no hurry for his Sentinel to go away, though. He let his head drop to Jim' shoulder. "I'll be okay."
*^*^*^*^*^*
The healing took longer than Blair thought. He was in the hospital for a week, battling a nasty bout of the flu on top of painful welts, some of which were infected. But the time flew as he was kept lightly sedated, the days passing in a blur of visits from the relieved members of Major Crimes and the continued presence of his Sentinel guarding over his sleep.
But eventually he was ready to go home. He was tired by the time Jim got him settled on the chesterfield with a pile of pillows and blankets to keep him comfortable and warm. Jim bustled around the kitchen, making tea and putting away the groceries he had picked up on the way home.
When the Sentinel came into the living room to deliver the cup of steaming herb tea into Blair's grateful hands, the younger detective patted the couch. Jim sat, looking at his young friend with concern.
"You know Jim. We never did talk."
Jim suddenly looked haunted.
"Talk?"
"Yeah..about...well, everything. I mean you threw me the badge, I caught it, life goes on. But we never talked about any of it. How you still felt. How I felt. What we both wanted."
Jim continued to fidget.
"I've never been one for talking about that sort of stuff." He paused thoughtfully. "You mean you don't want to be a cop?"
Blair pushed himself painfully upright.
"NO! I mean, no. Well, yes. But not really." Blair wriggled with impatience at the unfamiliar feeling of not being able to express himself. "I like being a cop Jim. I like what we do and I like being able to help. And not just help you. I mean, it's probably not what I would have chosen as an ultimate life plan, but it's better than some other options. I mean, I loved being an anthropologist. It was what I knew how to do. But you learn new skills, Jim. You grow. You try new things. I just didn't quite expect to enjoy it as much as I have been." He paused and took a calming breath. "It's just that I know you feel guilty about the whole mess, despite the fact that it wasn't your fault You just reacted the only way you knew how. And while it hurt that you thought I just wanted the money and all, I know that it's just because you've been betrayed by so many people already that it was the natural conclusion to draw."
"I never thought that you would..."
"No Jim. You did think it. But that's not the point. You had reason to think it. And I see that. The point is, you forgave me for not taking enough care with the diss. That's all that counts."
"So, what the problem?"
"He knew Jim. Rafael knew. He figured it all out. I thought that he wanted me to confess that I lied, that I was a fraud. But that wasn't it."
Jim looked confused and Blair forged ahead to clarify things.
"He wanted me to say I had failed my Sentinel."
Jim's face paled. He shook his head slowly.
"Sandburg, you didn't fail me. You didn't..."
"I know. Let's just say for a while there it felt true. But whether it was the drugs, or whether it was just a moment of existential angst, it did cross my mind that this whole detective thing hasn't changed or hidden anything. I got up and said I was a fraud, but what's the point if people don't believe me? Was it all for nothing if everyone can see through it? Did I just fuck it up again?"
Jim grabbed hold of Blair's hands which had started waving about in distress.
"Chief. Slow down. Listen. . There's always the risk that someone will notice. There's always the chance that someone will draw a connection. But your sacrifice wasn't in vain. As long as the only people who draw the connections are loony psychos, who's got to worry, huh?" Jim tried to lighten the mood, and surprisingly, Blair found, he wanted to laugh. But after letting a small grin break through, he grew serious again.
"Jim. I meant it when I said that I liked being a cop. Lots of people change their careers. Being an anthropologist wasn't my life. Being a guide is."
Jim's throat worked as he struggled with emotions Blair knew were hard for the gruff detective to process.
"I know Blair. I know."
*^*^*^*^*^*
Three weeks after his ordeal, Blair was ready to make it back to the station to resume some limited desk duty. His back was still tender in spots and the nightmares which had plagued him were gradually loosening their hold. He had hoped that getting back into a routine would make things a bit more normal. Besides which, Jim's mother henning was getting a bit stale.
At first it was nice having his roommate at his beck and call. But when Jim insisted on monitoring him while using the bathroom, Blair realized that things had gone a bit too far. Getting back to work would hopefully force Jim to realize that while getting help lifting heavy objects would be nice, bathroom duty was really quite unnecessary.
So he had made plans to surprise Jim, coming into the department in the middle of the afternoon to fill out the final paperwork on his abduction. Marcie had plead guilty so there wasn't really that much work to do case-wise, but the paperwork was still the size of a mountain. Blair had never realized until becoming a cop how much work had to be done...even if the perp plead guilty!
As he exited the elevator, he was struck by the silence in the bullpen. Normally the room as a buzz of activity that one could hear before one even entered. He pushed open the door and suddenly the room exploded in a fury of sound.
"WELCOME BACK!!"
Blair stood stunned at the chorus of detectives who stood next to a large banner with those very words painted somewhat crookedly in bright green letters. A table with cake, muffins, and assorted treats lay in wait, and Blair could see the side looks of more than one of the detectives towards the buffet.
"Wow. " Blair simply stared and allowed Jim to steer him towards the food, smiling at people who patted him on the shoulder, taking care not to jar his still tender back.
"Great to have you back, Hairboy" Henri's face was split with a huge grin.
"Yeah, glad you're okay. We've been missing you." Rafe added as he offered Blair a plastic cup with punch.
"We've missed you Sandy," Megan said as she came up to gently squeeze Blair in a hug.
"Gee guys. I should get kidnaped by psychos more regularly. Oh wait...I do get kidnaped by psychos all the time" Blair joked, unsure as to how to respond to the outpouring of support, sympathy and caring from a normally tightlipped bunch of hard-assed detectives.
"Why do I see people eating and drinking and not working?" Simon's voice boomed across the bullpen. Pieces of cake mysteriously disappeared under desktops and cups of punch were hidden under file folders. Simon gave his well-practiced 'boss-stare' and work slowly began to resume. Before shutting his door however, he turned and nodded to Blair.
"Good to have you back, Sandburg. Let's not make the last three weeks a habit shall we?"
Blair grinned and nodded. Simon had spent long hours at the loft, checking in to make sure that the one half of his prize team was going to be back on its feet. The caring side of the captain was rarely seen by many, but Blair knew better. Simon was a creme puff. Jim, on the other hand, was a marshmallow. And he had them both wrapped around his little finger. He sat down at his desk with an exaggerated wince.
"You okay, Chief?" Jim was instantly at his side.
"Yeah."
"Can I get you something? Coffee?"
"Well, now that you mentioned it, last month Suzanne down in Records was telling me about this great green tea that she had brought in with her. She said I could borrow some anytime. Would you mind?"
"Sure thing. I'll be right back." Jim trotted off to retrieve the elusive green tea. Blair chortled to himself and opened the first of a stack of folders on his desk. Enjoy it while it lasts.
A phone rang, the photocopier made that strange rattling noise, Henri and Rafe argued about the viability of peanut butter as a substitute for Cheez Whiz, and the voice of Simon yelling at his phone could be heard through the doors of his office. Life was returning to normal. Well, as normal as things ever got in Cascade at any rate.
THE END
The smell was the first thing that clued Blair into his location. Hospitals always came with the distinctive odour that just screamed 'medicine'. Warmth surrounded him and, despite the throbbing of his back, he felt pretty comfortable.
Until he moved.
His eyes shot open at the flares of pain that shot through his body. His immediate view was of the mattress on which he was laying . He was on his stomach, a sheet draped loosely over his torso and the pricking sensation in his hand drew his attention to the IV that trailed up to its metal stand. A large hand on his shoulder startled him
"Take it easy, Chief. Relax. Don't try to move."
Taking the advice to heart, Blair only moved his eyes -- about the only thing that wasn't screaming in protest. Jim's smiling, yet concerned face slowly swam into focus. His first attempt at talking resulted in a harsh croak that made Jim wince and reach for a glass of water. The older man stuck a straw into it.
"Here you go. Just take a couple of sips. Don't overdo it. You've been dehydrated and your stomach won't like it if you drink too much." Jim patiently explained as he slipped the straw into position, made awkward by Blair's unusual position. Blair gratefully sucked cold mouthfuls of the water. When his mouth no longer felt like a desert, he pillowed his head on his folded arms, looking sideways at Jim.
"What happened? I mean, I know what happened. Sort of. Things got kind of blurry at the end there."
"Paul and Rafael are dead. Marcie is in custody, facing kidnapping, assault, accessory to first degree murder and fraud."
Blair pondered the fate of his captors, when he latched onto the last word that Jim had spoken.
"Fraud?"
"Yeah. It seems that the victims weren't random. She actually was picking them out, unbeknownst to the others. She had sold them all insurance with the stipulation in the fine print that if they died she would get the money. Not very subtle, and god knows why she thought she could get away with it. But criminals aren't very smart very often, huh?"
Blair managed a small grin.
"I saw what was on the video tape, Chief."
Blair closed his eyes at the guilt in Jim's voice. When he opened them again, Jim was fiddling with the corners of the plastic arms of his chair, clearly using Sentinel touch to distract himself. The drugs were making thinking incredibly difficult and his eyelids felt incredibly heavy. A comforting hand stroking his hair accompanied the voice that bid him rest. Complying he sank back into sleep.
What seemed like moment later, he bolted upright, shaking from the terrors that chased him in his dreams. Hands touching him, voices taunting him, blows hurting him. He pulled up his knees to his chest, whimpering and rocking slowly back and forth to dispel the phantasms.
"Blair?" The groggy voice of his partner, pulled Blair back to reality. He raised his head from where he had buried it in his arms. Jim was slouched in a backbreaking position next to the hospital bed. The red-rimmed eyes betrayed the worry that Jim had for his Guide.
"Jim?" Blair winced at the sound of his voice. It sounded child-like, afraid and desperately in need of some reassurance. But fortunately he had a friend who was never frugal with comfort. Strong arms enfolded him, mindful of the healing wounds.
"You okay, Chief?" Jim asked and then laughed softly. "Stupid question, I suppose."
Blair took a shaky breath.
"I'll be okay, Jim. Really." He was in no hurry for his Sentinel to go away, though. He let his head drop to Jim' shoulder. "I'll be okay."
*^*^*^*^*^*
The healing took longer than Blair thought. He was in the hospital for a week, battling a nasty bout of the flu on top of painful welts, some of which were infected. But the time flew as he was kept lightly sedated, the days passing in a blur of visits from the relieved members of Major Crimes and the continued presence of his Sentinel guarding over his sleep.
But eventually he was ready to go home. He was tired by the time Jim got him settled on the chesterfield with a pile of pillows and blankets to keep him comfortable and warm. Jim bustled around the kitchen, making tea and putting away the groceries he had picked up on the way home.
When the Sentinel came into the living room to deliver the cup of steaming herb tea into Blair's grateful hands, the younger detective patted the couch. Jim sat, looking at his young friend with concern.
"You know Jim. We never did talk."
Jim suddenly looked haunted.
"Talk?"
"Yeah..about...well, everything. I mean you threw me the badge, I caught it, life goes on. But we never talked about any of it. How you still felt. How I felt. What we both wanted."
Jim continued to fidget.
"I've never been one for talking about that sort of stuff." He paused thoughtfully. "You mean you don't want to be a cop?"
Blair pushed himself painfully upright.
"NO! I mean, no. Well, yes. But not really." Blair wriggled with impatience at the unfamiliar feeling of not being able to express himself. "I like being a cop Jim. I like what we do and I like being able to help. And not just help you. I mean, it's probably not what I would have chosen as an ultimate life plan, but it's better than some other options. I mean, I loved being an anthropologist. It was what I knew how to do. But you learn new skills, Jim. You grow. You try new things. I just didn't quite expect to enjoy it as much as I have been." He paused and took a calming breath. "It's just that I know you feel guilty about the whole mess, despite the fact that it wasn't your fault You just reacted the only way you knew how. And while it hurt that you thought I just wanted the money and all, I know that it's just because you've been betrayed by so many people already that it was the natural conclusion to draw."
"I never thought that you would..."
"No Jim. You did think it. But that's not the point. You had reason to think it. And I see that. The point is, you forgave me for not taking enough care with the diss. That's all that counts."
"So, what the problem?"
"He knew Jim. Rafael knew. He figured it all out. I thought that he wanted me to confess that I lied, that I was a fraud. But that wasn't it."
Jim looked confused and Blair forged ahead to clarify things.
"He wanted me to say I had failed my Sentinel."
Jim's face paled. He shook his head slowly.
"Sandburg, you didn't fail me. You didn't..."
"I know. Let's just say for a while there it felt true. But whether it was the drugs, or whether it was just a moment of existential angst, it did cross my mind that this whole detective thing hasn't changed or hidden anything. I got up and said I was a fraud, but what's the point if people don't believe me? Was it all for nothing if everyone can see through it? Did I just fuck it up again?"
Jim grabbed hold of Blair's hands which had started waving about in distress.
"Chief. Slow down. Listen. . There's always the risk that someone will notice. There's always the chance that someone will draw a connection. But your sacrifice wasn't in vain. As long as the only people who draw the connections are loony psychos, who's got to worry, huh?" Jim tried to lighten the mood, and surprisingly, Blair found, he wanted to laugh. But after letting a small grin break through, he grew serious again.
"Jim. I meant it when I said that I liked being a cop. Lots of people change their careers. Being an anthropologist wasn't my life. Being a guide is."
Jim's throat worked as he struggled with emotions Blair knew were hard for the gruff detective to process.
"I know Blair. I know."
*^*^*^*^*^*
Three weeks after his ordeal, Blair was ready to make it back to the station to resume some limited desk duty. His back was still tender in spots and the nightmares which had plagued him were gradually loosening their hold. He had hoped that getting back into a routine would make things a bit more normal. Besides which, Jim's mother henning was getting a bit stale.
At first it was nice having his roommate at his beck and call. But when Jim insisted on monitoring him while using the bathroom, Blair realized that things had gone a bit too far. Getting back to work would hopefully force Jim to realize that while getting help lifting heavy objects would be nice, bathroom duty was really quite unnecessary.
So he had made plans to surprise Jim, coming into the department in the middle of the afternoon to fill out the final paperwork on his abduction. Marcie had plead guilty so there wasn't really that much work to do case-wise, but the paperwork was still the size of a mountain. Blair had never realized until becoming a cop how much work had to be done...even if the perp plead guilty!
As he exited the elevator, he was struck by the silence in the bullpen. Normally the room as a buzz of activity that one could hear before one even entered. He pushed open the door and suddenly the room exploded in a fury of sound.
"WELCOME BACK!!"
Blair stood stunned at the chorus of detectives who stood next to a large banner with those very words painted somewhat crookedly in bright green letters. A table with cake, muffins, and assorted treats lay in wait, and Blair could see the side looks of more than one of the detectives towards the buffet.
"Wow. " Blair simply stared and allowed Jim to steer him towards the food, smiling at people who patted him on the shoulder, taking care not to jar his still tender back.
"Great to have you back, Hairboy" Henri's face was split with a huge grin.
"Yeah, glad you're okay. We've been missing you." Rafe added as he offered Blair a plastic cup with punch.
"We've missed you Sandy," Megan said as she came up to gently squeeze Blair in a hug.
"Gee guys. I should get kidnaped by psychos more regularly. Oh wait...I do get kidnaped by psychos all the time" Blair joked, unsure as to how to respond to the outpouring of support, sympathy and caring from a normally tightlipped bunch of hard-assed detectives.
"Why do I see people eating and drinking and not working?" Simon's voice boomed across the bullpen. Pieces of cake mysteriously disappeared under desktops and cups of punch were hidden under file folders. Simon gave his well-practiced 'boss-stare' and work slowly began to resume. Before shutting his door however, he turned and nodded to Blair.
"Good to have you back, Sandburg. Let's not make the last three weeks a habit shall we?"
Blair grinned and nodded. Simon had spent long hours at the loft, checking in to make sure that the one half of his prize team was going to be back on its feet. The caring side of the captain was rarely seen by many, but Blair knew better. Simon was a creme puff. Jim, on the other hand, was a marshmallow. And he had them both wrapped around his little finger. He sat down at his desk with an exaggerated wince.
"You okay, Chief?" Jim was instantly at his side.
"Yeah."
"Can I get you something? Coffee?"
"Well, now that you mentioned it, last month Suzanne down in Records was telling me about this great green tea that she had brought in with her. She said I could borrow some anytime. Would you mind?"
"Sure thing. I'll be right back." Jim trotted off to retrieve the elusive green tea. Blair chortled to himself and opened the first of a stack of folders on his desk. Enjoy it while it lasts.
A phone rang, the photocopier made that strange rattling noise, Henri and Rafe argued about the viability of peanut butter as a substitute for Cheez Whiz, and the voice of Simon yelling at his phone could be heard through the doors of his office. Life was returning to normal. Well, as normal as things ever got in Cascade at any rate.
THE END