Archive of Our Own ^beta

Pairing: J/B
Rating: PG
Category: Pre-Slash, H/C

Disclaimer: All things related to The Sentinel belong to PetFly and Paramount. This story is strictly for fun and not profit.

Thanks as always to Alex and Chris for writing support, and to Elaine for perfect Beta-reading. I did make some final changes after it was betaed, so any mistakes are all mine. Double thanks to Alex to hosting my stories on her web page. Check out her terrific stories at www.squidge.org/~stageira/alex/index.html

Spoilers: References to "Sentinel Too"

The title is inspired by the quote "What wound did ever heal but by degrees", by William Shakespeare ("Othello").

Note: A sequel to this story will soon be completed. It will be NC17: promise! Feedback: Yes, please :)

Summary: An illness leads to a discussion of feelings, and a discovery, as old wounds heal.

DEGREES TO HEAL
by Monica
[email protected]

Jim studied the kettle of water, idly wondering just how much longer it would take to boil. Maybe he was watching it too much, he reflected. He turned to glance out the window, noting that it was just past sunset, and sure enough; the kettle chose that time to whistle. Pouring the water over the tea bag, he heard another round of coughing start up from the main floor bedroom. Hurriedly, he finished, adding some honey to the tea, and picked up the cup. He returned just in time to see Blair fall back on his bed, still coughing, a tissue held to his mouth.

"Easy, buddy." Jim placed the tea on the nightstand, and sat on the edge of the bed to pat his friend on the shoulder, trying to telegraph comfort through the touches. "Come on now. Try to breathe slowly, it'll help." He took the tissue, and pressed a fresh one into Blair's hand.

"Jim, I-I-" Blair shook his head.

Jim pulled Blair up, wrapping arms around him to hold him close to his chest. One large hand cupped the back of Blair's neck, tucking the curly topped head under his chin, while the other hand rubbed circles on his back. "Go ahead and just cough; try to get it out." Blair managed a nod as he attempted to clear his lungs.

It was Blair's second case of pneumonia since the fountain incident, six months earlier. He had spent two days in the hospital with the first infection. Since then, Jim had read up on the illness and had learned to recognize the warning signs. Hearing suspicious sounds on one occasion, he had herded Blair to the doctor, who confirmed that it was bronchitis ready to turn more serious. A round of antibiotics had kept it from becoming worse, and Blair had needed to spend only one day at home.

This bout had caught them both by surprise. Jim had been across state, testifying in a federal case. In the two days he had been gone, Blair's mild cough and congestion had rapidly turned worse. Blair, for once, had even gone to the doctor on his own, but it was proving to be a stronger illness than anticipated.

Jim rushed Blair back to the doctor upon his return, and it was a measure of Blair's acknowledgement of the seriousness that he hadn't protested. The doctor increased the medicine doses and took new chest x rays. Fortunately, they showed no serious progression of the illness, and the doctor agreed that Blair could stay at home provided that he was watched. Jim was confident that between his medic training and Sentinel readings he could keep Blair comfortable through the latest siege.

Now Blair quieted, but Jim still held him close, feeling Blair take some deep, calming breaths. After several minutes, Blair sighed and lifted his head. "Sorry," he said.

"About what?"

"Hacking all over you like that. Pretty disgusting. You might get sick, too." Jim shook his head as he helped Blair sit back, propping pillows behind his back to keep him elevated.

"I'll live." He picked up the cup of tea; automatically testing it thorough touch to make sure it was cooled enough. "Drink this. Lots of honey. It's a folk remedy that's supposed to soothe the cough."

The sick man accepted the cup and took a grateful sip. "Not just a folk remedy. Even the doctor suggested it."

"That's true," Jim acknowledged. He got up and checked the vaporizer beside the bed, making sure it was still filled with water to add needed moisture to the room. After several bouts of respiratory illness, he knew what to do. He even believed the honey remedy, but liked to tease Blair about it a little.

Blair finished the tea and rested back against the pillows. He was starting to shiver a bit again and Jim checked his temperature by laying a large hand on his partner's forehead. It was infinitely quicker and just as accurate as a thermometer. Temperature still high, Jim noted. Blair was sweating despite the chills, and he tried to push his sweat-dampened hair back from his face.

Jim reached out to help him brush the long hair back. "How about a bath?"

"Bath?"

"Yeah. The doctor said that a warm, steamy bath might help loosen up the congestion, make breathing easier. Plus, it'll help relax some of the muscle aches and lower your temperature as long as the water's not too hot."

"It does sound good, "Blair admitted. "I feel so sweaty and all." Then he paused. 'But I don't know if I'm up to it. I can barely sit up straight right now."

"I'll do all the work, Chief. I really think it will help."

"Okay, okay," Blair murmured. He looked and sounded exhausted. A bit shakily, he grasped Jim's hand. "Thanks, Jim. I know that I'm far from the best patient. I really do appreciate everything."

The older man patted his hand. "No problem. Just give me a few minutes to warm the room and get the bath ready."

Jim had started a fire earlier in the afternoon when Blair was on the couch, and he made a quick trip to add some more wood. Then he gathered up a few items, including a woolen blanket, turned up the heat and went into the bathroom, closing the door to keep the steam and heat inside as he started the bath. Ears turned sharp to his friend, he got the water to a medium temperature, and put in the stopper to fill the tub. He located the bath oil and poured some into the tub, liking the fresh scent, and hoping that it would help ease the aching muscles.

He returned to the bedroom and pulled the covers off Blair. The younger man started to try and get up, but Jim stopped him. "Uh-uh. Let me handle this." He slid one arm under Blair's knees, another around his back, and easily lifted him. Blair shivered a little, and Jim quickly moved to the bathroom. He had left the door ajar just enough so he could kick it open to get back in, and once back inside, he immediately shut the door. The room was now warm and steamy, like a small sort of sauna.

Jim stood Blair on his feet, keeping one arm securely around his waist, holding him up. With his free hand, he pulled off the boxers Blair was wearing, sending them down to his ankles. Lifting his friend up again, Jim freed him from the underwear. Blair had been wearing sweats earlier, but Jim had removed them to administer a brief sponge bath, and had decided it was easier to keep just the boxers on Blair. He could keep him warm with blankets.

He sat Blair on the edge of the tub, and grabbed one of Blair's hair ties. Quickly, he pulled the long locks into a ponytail and secured it, hoping to keep his hair reasonably dry. Wrapping strong arms around him, he then lowered his friend into the warm water.

Blair sighed a little as he eased back in the water. Jim pulled out the foam head/neck rest and placed it on the back of the tub so Blair could rest his head on it, then guided him to stretch out. Once he was settled, Jim pulled off his own T-shirt; not wanting to get it wet, and then knelt beside the tub. "Just relax now." He lightly batted at a hand that was half-heartedly trying to grab a bath sponge. "Remember, I'm doing all the work."

Tired blue eyes looked at him. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble," Blair said quietly.

"Hey." Jim ran a thumb lightly over the warm face. "Chief, its no trouble. You are no trouble." He held Blair's gaze sternly for a moment, emphasizing his point, then smiled. "Now quit arguing with me. This will help."

Blair managed a weak smile. "No argument here." His eyes closed as he gave himself over to Jim's ministrations.

Jim lathered up the sponge and started bathing him slowly, studying his friend. The dark circles under the eyes emphasized the paleness from the illness, and it was a bit disconcerting to see the normally alive and sparkling eyes so tired. For not the first time, Jim reflected on how fragile Blair seemed at times. Not that he was puny, or physically weak; just vulnerable, and watching him suffer was difficult. Blair coughed a little, but seemed to breathe in easily enough. A little shifting, and he truly relaxed for the first time.

The Sentinel continued the bathing, but his hands subtly did more than clean. They rested gently on Blair's chest, feeling the rise and fall, checking and evaluating the depths and ease of the breaths. There was still the congested feeling and tightness, but no worse than it had been. The heartbeat was steady and even. Satisfied, Jim went on, running the sponge down the arms, and then the legs.

Putting the sponge aside for a moment, he took a washcloth and wiped Blair's face. Blair smiled a little at the sensation. Jim grinned in return; feeling clean, getting rid of the sweat from his fevers and shaking, probably felt as good to Blair as anything else. He washed behind the ears, drawing another smile from the pale face, and took up the sponge again, continuing the easy strokes, now soothing as well as keeping a steady flow of warm water over him.

Jim allowed himself to relax, now that his Guide was relaxing. Truth be told, this was probably as comforting to Jim as to Blair. For months now, Jim's feelings for the younger man had been far more than friendly, or even brotherly love, and he had long ago admitted the truth to himself.

He loved Blair.

He loved Blair like he had never felt for anyone before. Seeing him suffer was difficult because of that powerful love. He couldn't pinpoint the moment when it happened, but he knew that Blair now held his heart in the palm of his hand. If only Blair knew it.

But Blair didn't.

Jim was careful to keep his feelings and instincts in check. There were times when he wanted to sweep the younger man into his arms, and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. He wanted to inhale his scent and bury himself in the wonderful essence that was Blair. He wanted to run his fingers through that glorious hair and hold him close. He wanted to make love to every inch of him. But he restrained himself. Blair had never shown any sign that he felt that way.

Blair stirred a little, then settled back under Jim's hands, clearly enjoying the soothing sponge bath. Jim couldn't resist a look, as Blair's movement shifted his legs to reveal his genitals. Blair was ill, and Jim had no lusty thoughts at that moment- he was taking care of Blair, not ogling him - but still he looked.

Before tonight, when he had undressed Blair, he had never seen Blair completely naked. He knew that his friend was much more self conscious about his body than he was; Blair didn't dress in flannel layers just for the warmth. Even after years of living together - with one bathroom - Jim had never spied Blair in less than boxers. But now...

Blair was beautiful- all over. Not as muscular as Jim, but again, he was not puny or weak looking. And that spirit and mind were certainly strong. Compact, Jim decided, sturdy. Just like that he was a sturdy friend, always there for him. Jim allowed himself only a brief glance at Blair's cock. He was not peeping, he told himself firmly. Blair was ill, and trusted Jim to perform such an intimate act as bathing him, and he was not going to degrade or violate that trust.

Making himself break out of his musings, Jim rested a hand on Blair's chest for a few moments, then patted his shoulder. "I think it's helping, Chief. I can feel and hear that the congestion is better than earlier."

Blue eyes opened, tired, but interested. Even sick, Blair's mind was always on the alert. "Yeah?"

"Yep." Jim smiled reassuringly as he continued to run the sponge over the chest and arms. "You sound better," he said firmly. "And the fever is down."

The eyes closed again, having decided it was not necessary to see right now. "It is easier to breathe," he agreed. He managed a reasonably deep breath. "Not quite as tight. And just not being so sweaty and yucky is worth it alone"

"Thought so."

Several minutes later, Jim decided to move Blair out of the tub. He wanted to get him settled so he could then hopefully rest for a time. "Time to get out, buddy," he said.

"Okay," Blair sat up, accepting Jim's help. "Whoa, dizzy," he mumbled.

"Easy, don't move so fast. Let me." He wrapped his arms around Blair's waist and lifted, pulling him out of the tub.

Jim wrapped a large towel around Blair and sat him on the closed toilet lid as he dried him off. He released the hair from its tie, and then gathered up one of the items he had brought in earlier.

"Here's some fresh boxers." Jim maneuvered Blair's feet through the "legs" of the garment, and worked them upward. He wrapped one arm around Blair's waist to raise him up so he could finish pulling the underwear into place.

"Sweats. I'm cold."

"I know, buddy. But if I have to give you another bath to keep your temperature down, it's best to have on just the boxers. I'm going to move you out to the couch in front of the fire and pile on blankets so you'll be plenty warm."

"Oh." Blair nodded. "Okay."

Jim couldn't resist a small chuckle. "Wish you were always this agreeable," he teased. Blair just smiled tiredly as he was bundled into the warm blanket Jim had brought in the bathroom earlier, and guided out to the couch. The fireplace had the area cozily warm, and Blair sighed gratefully as he settled down. Jim gathered up blankets and covered his friend, then grabbed the vaporizer from the bedroom and moved it out to the living room, plugging it in near the couch. "I'm going to get you a glass of juice to drink. We need to keep you hydrated. Then hopefully you can sleep for a while."

"I'm so tired, but all the coughing keeps me awake," Blair grimaced.

"Yeah, but I think that between the bath and the latest dose of medication kicking in, you should be able to get some rest now." Jim ruffled the long hair. "Be right back."

He returned with a glass and slid an arm under Blair's head and shoulders to raise him up enough so he could drink. Between being sick and being tired, Blair could barely hold the glass, so Jim just held it for him, encouraging him to drink it all.

When Blair finished, Jim laid him back down. "Let's prop you up just a little," he said, tucking a small pillow under Blair's shoulders. Blair also turned so he was laying more on one side, a position that seemed to help. Once he was settled, Jim pulled the blankets back up. He fussed for several moments, tucking and patting, ensuring that Blair was warm and comfortable in the soft nest of covers and pillows.

"Thanks, Jim." Blair whispered. "For everything."

Jim sat beside him on the edge of the couch. "Your welcome, buddy."

"I feel like I'm being such a baby."

"Don't be stupid. You're not acting like a baby. And even if you were, well, when you're sick, I think you're entitled to a little babying. Now quit apologizing." He began stroking the hair that spread over the pillows with one hand, his other hand gently rubbing a shoulder through the blankets.

"That feels good." The blue eyes were now closed now again, and Jim could feel the muscles ease under his hands.

"Good." Jim continued the soothing touch, occasionally brushing the forehead. "Go to sleep now." A few more moments, and he felt Blair obey him and slip into sleep.

Jim monitored him carefully until he was satisfied that Blair was deeply asleep. Even then, he remained for a time, monitoring and reassuring himself. Blair's breathing was even and fairly unlabored; his heart beat strong and steady. Even his temperature was slightly lowered from what it had been before the bath. The illness was not getting worse. It wouldn't dare- not with him on duty. If he had only been on duty once before---

He made himself shake his head. It was all his fault; he knew it. If he hadn't let Alex get to Blair all those months earlier, his friend wouldn't have drowned, and wouldn't be paying the price now. The fountain water had damaged Blair's lungs to where they were susceptible to pneumonia and other respiratory illnesses. Blair had suffered, and was still suffering now because of what had occurred.

He wanted nothing more than to pick Blair up in his arms and beg forgiveness and confess his love. But now was certainly not the time, and he guarded his heart. Taking care of Blair now was not a duty; it was an act of love. It was the least he could do.

With a sigh, he patted Blair's hair and got up. He changed the linens on Blair's bed, and gave the bathroom a quick clean up. Then he pulled the recliner close to the couch and settled back to catch some rest of his own.

Blair coughed, feeling rather miserable as it drew him out of sleep. He stirred, becoming aware of a gentle hand on his forehead. A damp, cool cloth replaced the hand, and he sighed a little at the sensation, deciding that it felt good. The blankets that cocooned him were loosened, and large warm hands slid under the covers to rest on his chest. After a few moments, they patted him, and then traveled to his throat, lightly touching there.

"What...?"

"Shhh." Jim's voice was deep and relaxing. "Just checking. Lay still." The hands slid under his shoulders and down his back, feeling the lungs move, then lifted the blankets back around him.

"I'm fine, Jim," Blair said, coughing around a yawn.

"I know." Jim tucked the covers about him. "Your fever hasn't gone back up, and your breathing is good."

The younger man forced his eyes to open and noted that it was still dark, only the flames from the fireplace casting shadows on the walls. "What time is it?"

"About 4:30," Jim answered. "You slept for quite a while actually, about seven hours." He stood and stretched. "Since you're awake, it's time for another round of pills."

Blair reflexively wanted to argue, but he had promised to take the medication without complaint. He sighed and nodded. Jim smiled and went out into the kitchen. Blair closed his eyes again, shifting to get more comfortable, and used the washcloth to wipe his face.

The soft sound of a tray being placed on the coffee table made him open his eyes. Jim sat back beside him and tucked another pillow under his shoulders to raise him up. After Blair was settled, Jim handed him the pills.

"I hate these," Blair muttered, but he obediently swallowed them and washed the medicine down with the juice Jim offered. "They make me sleepy. And don't get me started on the taste of that cough syrup."

Jim grinned as he concentrated on pouring out the correct dosage of the medicinal syrup in question. "I know," he said. "It tastes about as good as it smells, I suppose. But it's helping."

"Supposedly," Blair said doubtfully. "Hand it over, and let's be done with it." He took the dose and quickly drank some more juice to get rid of the taste. Then he coughed as he handed the glass back. "God, that's awful. I can't believe they give sick people something that's so vile." Jim chuckled as he took the medicine back to the kitchen, and returned, glad to hear Blair's voice a little stronger, and with more of his usual spirit. He was obviously feeling better after his long uninterrupted rest.

As Blair shifted around, getting comfortable, he caught sight of the armchair pulled up beside the couch, a light blanket thrown over the side. "You've been out here the whole time, haven't you?"

"Yeah." Jim tucked the blankets around Blair, then sat back in the chair.

"You don't have to do that, man."

"Yes, I do." The tone was Jim at his most stubborn, clearly hinting that he was accepting no arguments. Blair sighed.

"Jim, what's wrong?"

"What makes you think anything's wrong?"

"Come on. You've raised Blessed Protector Nurse hovering to a new level here. Don't misunderstand me; I really appreciate it. I'm just saying that you don't have to do all this. You're acting like you're taking this illness personally."

"Because it is my fault." The words were said so softly that Blair just barely heard them.

"What?" The outburst made him cough violently for a moment. "How can this possibly be your fault?" he demanded when he regained his voice.

"Chief, your lungs are susceptible because of the...the drowning. And we know that happened because of me."

"Oh, man. I thought that we had hashed all that out." Blair closed his eyes in exasperation. He was really too sick to deal with this right now, he thought grumpily.

After things had settled down, he and Jim had talked everything throughnot just once, but several times. Turned out that both were blaming themselves for events. After several heart-wrenching discussions, they seemed to have resolved the issues and only deepened their friendship. "We both messed up in different but equal ways, Jim. We talked all about that."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "But then you got sick."

"So? I am not going to argue with you over the concept of you taking responsibility for me being sick."

"It was my lack of responsibility that lead to the fountain, and you're sick as a result." Jim answered. "You're still suffering because of that."

Blair studied him carefully. "I think that you're still suffering emotionally." He shifted onto one side again, getting more comfortable. "Even you can't blame yourself for this, Jim."

"It's a direct result, isn't it?"

"Yeah, maybe." Blair shrugged. "Jim, you can feel bad about it, but you can't blame yourself for it. There's a difference." Jim snorted, and Blair shook his head. "Again, I am not going to argue with you about it right now. Maybe later, when I'm feeling better and the room isn't spinning."

Jim immediately forgot his guilty self-absorption, and began fussing over his friend again. Pillows were fluffed, glasses of juice were held to be drunk, and he settled Blair back down.

Blair smiled as Jim finished tucking the blankets over him. "Now I feel guilty about you fussing like this."

Jim raised one eyebrow as he sat back on the recliner. Bingo. Blair had just lead him to exactly where he wanted him. Even sick, Blair could manipulate him like a puppet. "Okay, point taken," he said with a sigh. "If I feel guilty about you being sick, then I guess you feel guilty about-"

"-making you feel guilty," Blair finished. "And as long as we're talking guilt, as I said before, I'm sorry to be so much trouble here."

The older man smiled. "And as I said before, you are no trouble. You're my best friend- friends help each other. Besides-I like taking care of you."

"You do?" Jim nodded. "Because of guilt?"

"No. Because I love you."

It took Jim a second to realize that he had said it aloud. He had been thinking it, of course, for months, but had always thought that with his self-control he could keep it to himself. So much for that.

It also took Blair a second to register what Jim had said. He frowned a little, not daring to yet believe what he hoped. He knew that Jim loved him, but-- "Love- like a friend, or brother?" Please God; say no, Blair thought desperately.

Jim considered lying; it was nearly on his lips. But his heart interfered again. "No. Love, like...a lover."

"Like a lover," Blair repeated softly. He looked up at Jim, and saw clearly in the pale eyes what he was praying for. Shakily, one hand sought out Jim's, reaching over to the chair, and squeezed it with as much strength as he had. "I love you, too. With all my heart."

When Jim just stared at him, Blair sat up and gripped Jim's hand tightly. "Jim, now of all times, please don't zone or something. Listen to me. I love you."

"I...just can't believe it." The words were so soft that Blair could barely hear them. Jim saw the frown as Blair strained to hear him, and spoke louder. "I never thought that you..."

"You never asked, or said anything," Blair pointed out with a smile. He eased back against the pillows, tugging on Jim's hand as best he could. Jim followed, getting up from the chair and sitting beside him on the couch. Blair moved over to make room, and the two men just held hands for a long moment, each hardly daring to believe what they had just discovered.

"Ordinarily I'd say that this is sudden, but I guess it's really not," Blair mussed. "We've been so close for so long, I think we fell in love a while ago, and just didn't realize it, or put it into words."

"Yeah, it's not sudden for me," Jim agreed. "I've loved you so long, it's hard to remember when I didn't." He gently stroked the hair again, allowing himself to finally touch Blair a little more. "Your mine, Blair. I know that sounds exactly like the Neanderthal that I sometimes am, but I'm yours as well."

Blair just smiled. "I think I understand," he said softly. "It's just hard to believe that it's really happening now. Who would have thought that it would happen when I'm sick?" He grimaced. "I want to kiss you like crazy, but I better not. Coughing all over you again would kinda ruin the effect."

The older man chuckled as he brushed a long curl back from Blair's cheek. "We just declared that we love each other. We have time."

Blair traced the lines in Jim's palm for a few moments. "Jim, this is really true for me; I mean, it's forever."

"Forever," Jim agreed, and Blair knew it came from the depths of Jim's heart. A vow.

"Wow," Blair said, closing his eyes for a moment, then looking back into the face of the man he loved. "I feel like we should talk a lot more, but it seems so right, I don't know what to say or add."

"That's a first," Jim teased. "Must be because you're sick. I'm sure you'll have plenty to say when you're healthy."

"Yeah, and we can't even really kiss a lot right now. I'm kinda at a loss here."

"You need to rest more. When you're feeling better, we'll do more than kiss." He felt Blair suddenly tense, his heartbeat increase. "What's wrong?" Jim asked quickly, alarmed. "Feeling sick?"

"No, it's not that." Blair flushed, and Jim checked his temperature again, making sure. No, whatever that was suddenly bothering Blair was not a physical ailment. Jim felt insecurity rise up in him, alarmed that he had said something. Reading his mind, Blair squeezed his hands reassuringly.

"Jim, it's not what you might think. I love you. It's...well, I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"Well, what you said about...doing more than kissing. I want to, really, but...well...I've never, ah well...I've never," he finished lamely.

"Never what?" Then it dawned, and Jim grinned. "Never been with a man?" He patted the hands that he still held. "I understand; it's-"

"No, Jim, you don't understand." Blair began to cough, and Jim automatically handed over some fresh tissues. When able, Blair took a deep breath. "I mean that I've never- period. Absolutely, positively, never. Not with anyone." Confession revealed, Blair turned his head, unable to meet Jim's gaze. God, what an idiot he was! Why would Jim want him now that he knew what a pathetic dweeb he was?

Then there was a light kiss on his forehead.

Blair dared to turn his head back to look at Jim, and his heart nearly skipped a beat at seeing the look of love in Jim's eyes.

"Thank you," Jim said, rubbing a gentle thumb along Blair's chin.

"For what?"

"For giving me such a gift." Jim's heart was swelled with love, and with pride at his Guide's courage in telling him the truth. He knew it had to be a difficult thing for Blair to admit, and he admired him for his strength.

Blair frowned, a thoughtful look in the blue eyes. "I've...never thought about it that way before. It's become something of an embarrassment, actually."

The Sentinel shook his head. "No. A gift," he repeated. "Have to admit that I have a dozen questions about it, seeing as how you seem to be the master of dating," Jim grinned. "But we can talk about it when you feel better."

"No, it's okay, I want to tell you now." Blair shifted on the pillows, getting more comfortable. "It's nothing dramatic. It's just never felt...right." He shrugged. "I think moving around so much when young I never got to know anyone really well, then I was younger than everyone else when I started college, and I've just never felt like I belonged. It's had the effect of making it hard for me to trust anyone that much. Before you."

Jim nodded. He knew exactly what Blair was talking about. For their own reasons, both he and Blair had "issues", as Blair would say, with trust. Blair hid his distrust behind open friendless, but it was casual, surface only, never deep trusting. Jim had built walls that very visibly showcased his distrust. Different on the outside, but both men internally had caution built deep within them.

"And that kept you from-"

"From having sex. Yeah." Blair flushed, but Jim knew by laying a light hand on the forehead that it was a blush, and not a sign of the fever rising. "Maybe that sounds like a cop-out, I don't know. I've thought about it, trust me, and was tempted like you wouldn't believe. But every single time I thought, okay, this is a great lady, I should really do it...something stopped me. I could never do it, or even get intimate beyond kissing." Blair's fingers nervously toyed with the edge of one of the blankets covering him as he spoke. "I can't really explain it better than that. There was always something wrong, and I always knew deep inside that while I might kiss her, I would never go to bed with her. I was ...scared, I guess."

The older man stroked the long curls back on the pillows. "Are you scared with me, Blair?"

"No." It was said very softly, as Blair looked at him. "I'm nervous about the act, you know, but I'm not scared of you. And for the first time, I'm feeling that there's nothing wrong."

Jim nodded, trusting his Guide's words. "Then, we'll go slow. We'll take our time, learn about each other, and go only at the pace you want." He couldn't restrain the pride and joy he felt. Not only did Blair love him, but he was also giving him a precious treasure. He vowed he would be worthy of it.

Blair looked relieved, recognizing how lucky he was to have Jim love him. "I love you." Blair wanted to say it again and again. He had gone for years without saying it aloud, and now that he had, he didn't want to stop. But then he began to cough. Again, Jim wrapped strong arms around him and raised him up a little, holding him against his chest.

But it was different now. The physical touch was no different but there was more meaning behind it now, more of a connection than ever before. It helped the coughing spell to pass easier, and even though he still felt sick, the love in his heart made up for some of it.

"You're still pretty sick, Chief. You should rest again. We'll talk more after you sleep."

"Not going to change your mind, are you?" Blair tried to sound light and teasing, but there was real worry in his voice.

"Never." And Blair was sure of it. "But I do still feel bad about what happened."

"We're both getting better, Jim. It takes time for both physical and emotional injuries. But I am getting better, and not just now, I mean overall. The doctor said that my lungs won't always be this weak- they'll get stronger and not be so susceptible after a while."

Jim nodded at that. It was true that the doctor had predicted that in time, baring no further serious illness, Blair's lungs would likely return to much of their full strength. Blair was working out more, working on increasing his endurance and thus his lung capacity.

"Kinda healing bit by bit, uh?"

"By degrees, I think. Yeah, I'm sick again, but not as sick as I was a few months ago. It's slowly getting better."

Jim considered, then mentally agreed. It felt so right between them. They had both survived, and were recovering in their own ways. They were both healing, and soon, they would both love. A yawn from Blair drew them out of their musings. Jim lowered Blair back down, again tucking the pillows and blankets around him, forming a Sentinel's version of a nest for his Guide.

"Rest now. We'll talk more later." Jim kissed the still feverish lips lightly.

"Just my luck, "Blair muttered.

"What?"

"Our first kiss, and I'm so sick that I can't enjoy it."

Jim chuckled. "Trust me- we'll make up for it later."

Tired blue eyes smiled at him. "That better be a promise."

"It is." Jim started to get up, but a small hand caught his.

"Stay with me?" It sounded like he was asking a favor.

"Don't even have to ask. I'm just going to put these glasses in the sink." Jim completed his errand quickly, added another log to the fire, and returned to the couch. Blair moved over a bit, making room, and Jim laid back down, careful to not put any weight on Blair. He slipped one arm under his shoulders, and drew him up a little so he was resting on his chest.

"Um..." Blair snuggled. "I feel better already." Then he coughed to ruin the effect of his words. "Really, I do," he added sheepishly.

"I believe you." Jim kissed his forehead. "Now rest." Within minutes, Blair had obeyed him.

For a long time after Blair slept, Jim stayed awake, but it was a vigil of joy now, and peaceful. Blair was right- by degrees, they were getting better.

The End