DISCLAIMER: The Sentinel world and people do not belong to me, but to Pet Fly Prod., Viacom, and UPN. I'm just letting the boys out of the closet so they can play with each other. I'll put them back when I'm finished. No infringement is intended and no money is being made from this little venture. Everything/one else belongs to me.
WARNING: Rated NC17 for refs to abuse and m/m relationship. (Don't worry, Blair doesn't get beat up again (g)). This is NOT a death story. If you are offended by this, or are not of legal age where you live, please do not read this.
NOTE: This is the sequel to "Mr.Wrong". I have to thank Little Eva for the idea of using Joel Taggart,(who, for my Senad listsibs, is not wearing gold lame anything, trust me, in fact he's fully clothed.) it is appreciated. This story will also contain an explanation for Blair's prostitution (the muse finally let me know (g)). A note about the titles for these stories, they both come from songs on Sade's "Promise" album, (surprise, surprise) and the songs don't really have a lot to do with the stories, but the titles seemed appropriate. Also, I'm not sure about police procedures (esp. in the US) re: officer's who are found to be spouse abusers, so forgive any factual errors on my part. Also, please forgive any factual errors regarding investigations, airlines, and anything else I get wrong. *I also realize that this all happens over a relatively short time span, but Jim isn't a typical abuser. And this is how it wanted to be written.
Comments welcome, as always, send 'em to me. (slashgirl@hotmail.com)
The next day (Tuesday)
Simon Banks and Joel Taggart walked into the Captain's office, discussing the bomb threat that had been phoned in yesterday, saying that there was a bomb at The Cascade Center, one of the city's largest office buildings. Fortunately, no bomb had been found, but it had required the evacuation and search of the entire building.
Simon noticed the letter on his desk when he sat down, and picking it up, noticed Blair Sandburg's ID tag underneath of it. A frown creased his forehead as he opened the letter, wondering what the hell this was about.
Noticing the ID tag, Joel muttered, "What the hell...?" then waited as Simon read the letter. Simon handed the letter to Joel to read when he finished.
Joel read:
Simon
As of today, I'm resigning my observer status with the Cascade Police Department. Sorry for the short notice, but I didn't want Jim to know about this.
I know you're probably wondering why. I don't want to go into too much detail, but let's just say, things didn't work out with Jim and me. I had to get away from the situation.
Simon, thanks for everything, and say goodbye to Daryl for me. Please give my regards to Joel, Brown, and Rafe, and I'm sorry I couldn't say good bye to them in person.
I'll be in touch soon.
Respectfully
Blair Sandburg
Joel looked at Simon, "They were...lovers?"
Simon nodded, "Yeah, for a few months, anyway."
Joel wasn't completely surprised, he'd suspected there was something between the two men, but figuring their private lives were just that, had never asked. "But why does he say he didn't want Jim to know he was ending his observer status...?"
As Joel asked the question out loud, both men felt a sickening realization in the pits of their stomachs. "Oh, God, Simon, you don't think Jim..."
The two men stood there, silently, looking at each other, both remembering the past few months. Blair's subtle change in attitude, a dampening of his enthusiastic nature, days when he'd moved rather gingerly, as if hurt, but brushing off concerns, and finally, about a week and a half ago, the black eye. Taken separately, those things meant little, but when added together... Both men felt guilty, but they hadn't been looking for it, and unless you're looking for something, you usually don't find it.
Simon called Jim into his office, and holding up Blair's ID tag, said, "What the hell is this all about, Ellison? Why did he leave?"
Jim stood stock still, the only movement the clenching of his jaw, he answered, but was unable to meet his Captain's eyes, "I wouldn't really know, sir."
"I think you do, and I think I do, as well. Jim, were you--" Simon stopped mid sentence, as Joel Taggart rushed Jim, pushing him up against the wall, his arm pressing across the other man's throat. "You beat him, didn't you, you sonofabitch? Didn't you!?!" Joel cried angrily, his arm pressing harder against Jim's throat. Jim croaked out an affirmative response, and Joel pressed even harder, "I should beat you, so you know what it feels like you bastard. How could you hurt him, what the fuck did he ever do to you?"
"TAGGART STOP IT!!" Simon bellowed, going to pull the big man off of Jim. Taggart released Jim, but not before shoving him hard against the wall, hard enough to knock the breath out of Jim. He looked into Jim's face and hissed, "You're a sick bastard, Ellison, nothing but a fucking coward," and he turned and walked out of Simon's office, slamming the door behind him. The bullpen was deathly silent as Joel strode through. Most of the people there had never seen the man that angry before and most of them were thanking whatever gods they believed in, that they weren't the target of his anger.
Joel went outside to get some fresh air and calm down, he couldn't believe that Jim Ellison would do that, to Blair of all people. He really had really grown to like Blair, the younger man had been like a little brother to him, annoying as hell sometimes, but overall, he was a great kid. Dammit, he hated abusers of any sort, but he'd never expected anything like this from Jim Ellison. Joel felt guilty, he should've seen what was going on...Shaking his head, Joel put the thought out of his head, he hadn't noticed and now Blair was gone, and he was going to miss the kid.
Simon stared at Jim, his mind reeling, *I can't believe Jim would do that to anyone, let alone Sandburg* "Jesus Christ, Jim, what the hell is wrong with you? I'm putting you on a leave of absence, for at least two weeks, if not longer. I want you to get help, Jim, I won't let you back to work if you don't. And you should be thankful we don't have any direct evidence of what you did to Blair, or I'd have you charged."
Jim stared at Simon, and said, "Yes, sir." When Simon didn't say anything else, Jim turned to leave.
"Ellison, I want you to give me your badge and gun." When Jim didn't immediately comply, Simon continued, "That _wasn't_ a request, detective."
Jim didn't reply, he just put the requested items on Simon's desk and stalked out of his Captain's office, stopping only to retrieve his coat before heading home. As he drove home, Jim couldn't believe Simon had taken him off of active duty, *This is all Blair's fault, Simon wouldn't have done this to me if he'd stayed.* Jim could feel his anger rising again and he was more determined than ever to find Blair, to bring him back, to make him pay for the trouble he'd caused Jim. He spent most of the day moping around the loft, drinking beer, feeling sorry for himself and angry with Blair. Around midnight, he managed to haul himself upstairs and collapsed on his bed, passing out from all the beer he'd drunk.
Jim woke the next morning at his usual time, feeling the hangover, but then remembered he couldn't go into work, so rolled over and slept again. He didn't get out of bed until later that afternoon, and he went downstairs, fixing himself a quick lunch. Jim decided to start looking for Blair. He called the University, but all they could tell him was that Professor Sandburg was on a three month leave of absence. Next, he tried some of Blair's friends, but all they could tell him was that Blair had decided to take a vacation, but that he hadn't told them where. Jim, using his senses, could tell these people honestly didn't know where Blair had gone.
He decided to call the airlines to see if Blair had left on a plane, and to find out where he'd gone. Jim discovered that Blair had made reservations on 20 flights but he couldn't find out which one Blair had taken. There had been a major computer malfunction and the clerk informed him that the information he needed had been scrambled and it would be about a week before they'd find out if that information was salvagable. Jim asked if the airlines at the destination locations would have the information he needed and the clerk told him that they would, so grabbing a pen and paper, he took down all the destinations Blair had reserved for. Places ranging from Canada to several South American countries, Russia to Australia. Jim decided to work from the hottest places to the coldest, temperature wise, knowing how Blair hated the cold.
Saturday
Jim had found out, after making about a dozen calls to various airline offices worldwide, that Blair had been on a flight to Rome. He'd then called the American embassy in Rome, telling them he was a police officer and that it was very important that Blair Sandburg be contacted, as there was a family emergency. Jim knew it would be a few days before he'd hear anything back, which didn't stop him from being frustrated over the whole thing.
He decided to do his laundry, there wasn't much else to do, and he didn't feel like drinking all day. As he was emptying the clothes hamper, he saw something blue and plaid behind it. Picking it up, he realized it was one of Blair's flannel shirts. Jim held it close to his face and breathed in, yes, he could still smell Blair's scent on it, that wonderful smell. The laundry forgotten, Jim walked out to stand by the windows, looking out but not really seeing.
As Jim stood there, breathing in Blair's scent, he remembered. He remembered the day they met, when Blair had saved his life; when Blair had moved in with him; when he first realized he was falling in love with the younger man and so many other things. Then he remembered the night he'd raped Blair *My God, I _raped_ him*; the abuse he'd given the man he loved, *Oh, Blair, I'm so sorry*; the day his love had left.
As the memories washed over Jim, he felt something deep in the well of his soul shatter, like so much fine crystal, into a million shards. As Jim fell heavily to the floor, a loud keening cry burst forth from him, and then he started to cry. He sat there, hugging himself, with Blair's shirt pressed against him, rocking back and forth. Mourning what he'd lost, what he knew he'd probably never get back.
Simon stood outside Jim's door, listening. He'd been about to knock when he'd heard the moaning noises. Quickly retrieving his spare key to Jim's apartment, he unlocked the door, rushing inside, almost afraid of what he'd find. What he saw surprised him, Jim lying on the floor of the living room, curled up on his side, his face pressed against something blue, and he was shaking. *God, I hope he's not zoned or something, I don't think I could help him* Simon thought as he went over to his friend.
Simon knelt down beside his friend, reaching out to shake his shoulder, "Jim. Jim! It's Simon, man. What's wrong, are you okay?"
When Jim looked up at his captain, Simon almost gasped as he saw the look of utter desolation and devastation in those blue eyes.
"What did I do, Simon, my God, what did I do. Joel was right I'm just a fucking bastard coward. I loved Blair how could I hurt him, how could I...." Jim trailed off, as fresh sobs racked his body. Simon reached out and pulled Jim into a hug, not saying anything, just holding him, until the crying tapered off.
Helping the other man up, Simon led him over to the couch and sat down beside him, "Jim, what happened?"
Jim looked at him, "From the beginning?"
"Yes, from the beginning, Jim," Simon said.
So, Jim told Simon, everything. From his finding out about Blair's prostitution, to the rape, to the abuse, and even what he'd been doing to try and find Blair.
Simon had held his comments until Jim was finished, he hadn't wanted to interrupt. "My God, Jim. Did you ever find out why Blair was selling himself?"
"No, I wasn't myself, I sure as hell was thinking very clearly."
"As to the rest of it, I don't know what to say. What can I say? Other than I think you really need to seek professional help to try and deal with this, Jim. And, I'm going to call the embassy in Rome and cancel your request, I think that would be appropriate, don't you?"
"Yeah, Simon. I'm going to look into counselling on Monday. Thanks for being such a good friend, Simon, I sure as hell don't deserve it, after what I've done."
"Jim, that's what friends are for, to be there when you need them, no matter what. And it's like what they say about say about addictions: the battle's half won when you admit you have a problem. And you've done that, Jim."
"Thanks, Simon."
Two weeks later
Blair shifted in the plane seat, trying to get comfortable. He was on his way back to the States, or "The Colonies" as his English friends had teased him. He was going to New York City, to visit a good friend of his for a few days, after that, he wasn't sure. He missed his life in Cascade, but he wasn't sure if he could go back there so soon.
Blair had spent the last three weeks travelling around the English countryside, trying to process, as Naomi would put it, what had happened to him this last little while. The biggest conclusion he'd come up with was that he missed Jim, not the Jim of the last few months, but the man he'd known before.
Blair sighed, it wasn't doing any good, longing for what he he could probably never have again.
As Blair walked through the gate, he saw his friend, Jules Hanson, waiting for him. He and Jules had known each other since they were fifteen, when Naomi had lived with Jules' father, Victor. Their friendship had formed almost instantly and they had kept in touch even after their parents had broken up.
Jules pulled Blair into an embrace, "Hey, Blair, you look as gorgeous as ever."
"You don't look too bad yourself, Jules," Blair replied. Jules was a couple inches taller than Blair, with shoulder length auburn hair and deep green eyes.
"C'mon, I'll take you home and feed you supper, you must be starving after suffering that crap they call food, on the flight."
"Yeah, man, you got that right."
When they arrived at the apartment, Jules put Blair's stuff in the guest room and the two men set to making supper. After dinner, they were sitting in the living room, when Jules asked, "So, Blair, what's happened? Why are you travelling all over the place? Tell me all about it, love."
Blair told Jules everything, from the prostitution to the abuse. When he'd finished, Jules looked at him, "You were turning tricks again, man? I thought you said you'd never do that again?" He was referring to when the boys had been sixteen, Naomi and Victor had taken off to Europe for the summer, leaving the two boys under the care of the housekeeper, who hadn't paid too much attention to them. Jules and Blair had spent the summer on the streets and had eventually tried selling themselves, for the "fun" of it, they sure as hell didn't need the money. Victor Hanson was a multi millionaire. Jules hadn't been phased by it, but Blair had never enjoyed it, and had stopped after only a few johns.
"You remember Cassie McGuire, and her brother Arty? Well, Arty showed up, threatening to tell Jim all about what had happened, if I didn't give him some money. I couldn't let Jim find out, he'd have kicked me out, and I'm not sure the statute of limitations is up on that either. If I got charged, I wouldn't have been able to work with Jim anymore, so I did what I had to. The night Jim followed me was my last client, I had enough money. I was able to pay Arty off, and haven't heard from him since," Blair explained.
Jules punched Blair in the arm, "You can be such a stupid ass sometimes, Sandburg. Why didn't you call me? I would've given you the money, hell, I would've had ole Arty taken care of. And I may yet, he'll only come back for more, Blair, that's the way black mailers work, this is the second time he's come after you. Besides, you were just a kid yourself when that happened, how could Jim blame you? She told you she was legal, man."
Blair had been 19 and dating (and sleeping with) Cassie, she'd told him she was 18, but in reality, she'd only been 15, which meant he'd committed statuatory rape. Arty had found out about it, and he had taken some rather compromising pictures, with which he'd black mailed Blair then and again now.
"I just don't think sometimes, man. I can be so stupid sometimes, you're right," Blair answered, sadly.
The two men talked for a while longer, then Blair noticed it was almost ten o'clock, hmmm, that meant it would be seven back home, Simon should be home by now. "Jules, do mind if I use your phone to call a friend of mine in Cascade?"
"No, go right ahead, man," Jules replied.
Blair dialed the number, hoping that Simon would be home. The phone was answered by a youthful voice, "Hello, this is the Banks' residence."
Blair smiled, "Hey, Daryl, how ya doin' man?"
"Blair! I'm doing pretty good, how are you? Are you coming home soon?" Daryl asked.
"I'm okay, Daryl, but I'm still not sure when I'm coming home. Look, is your dad there, I need to talk to him," Blair asked.
"Yep, just a sec. DAD!! It's Blair on the phone!" Daryl yelled the last part without bothering to take the phone away from his mouth, and Blair winced.
Taking the phone from his son, and indicating he wanted privacy, Simon spoke, "Blair, where are you? And how are you doing?"
"I'm in New York right now, and I'm doing okay. Simon, how...how is Jim doing?"
"Blair, look. I know what happened with you and Jim, okay? Jim's doing fine, in fact, he's been in therapy for the past two weeks, and is returning to work on Monday."
"Oh, Jim's in therapy already? I'm surprised, I didn't think he would go."
Simon proceeded to tell Blair what had happened at Jim's that Saturday, two weeks ago, and what had transpired since.
"Oh, gods, Simon, I should have been there for him--"
Simon cut him off, "Blair, if you'd stayed, this wouldn't have happened. He'd still be abusing you. You know that. You've got nothing to feel guilty about."
"Knowing it in my head, and knowing it my heart are two different things, Simon, it's gonna take awhile for my heart to believe it. Simon, I want to come home, do you think that's a good idea?" Blair asked.
"Yes, I do, Blair. Jim misses you, hell, we all miss you. And if I didn't think it was a good idea or that you'd be safe, I wouldn't tell you to come home," Simon answered.
"I miss Jim too, and you. And the guys at the station. I just have a little problem, Simon, I don't have anywhere to stay, and I don't think I can move back in with Jim right away."
"Tell you what, Blair, you tell me what you want for an apartment, price range, locale, and I'll find you something, and if you tell me where your stuff is, I'll arrange to have it moved in for you, okay?" Simon offered.
"Hey, man, that would be great! Thanks Simon, you're such a great friend," Blair said. The two men spent the next few minutes discussing what Blair needed and when Blair was going to be coming home. Simon told Blair he'd call him on Monday, and let him know what was going on.
Monday evening
Jim walked into his therapist's office and dropped into the overstuffed armchair across from the desk, sighing heavily. His therapist, Sybil Peterson, looked up and smiled at him, "I'll be with you in a couple of minutes, okay, Jim?"
He nodded, looking at the woman. She was of First Nations descent, and had straight, waist-length blue black hair, and eyes so brown, they were almost black. Her smooth skin was dark brown, and she had a beautiful face, with high cheekbones. She reminded him of a horse, not that she looked like one, by any means, but she had that head held high pride, and the energy of a horse. Jim wondered idly if the horse was her spirit guide, he wouldn't be surprised.
Jim had met with several therapists before deciding on Sybil, he'd liked her from the start, she was a no nonsense, "don't give me any bullshit" type of person. She'd been quite agreeable to _not_ writing down everything Jim told her, and when he'd asked her how she viewed things like spirit guides or animal guides, she stopped and looked at him, carefully. "That is part of my heritage, detective, and I embrace my heritage. I believe that everyone has a spirit/animal guide." Jim had needed someone he could trust, especially if it became necessary to discuss his Sentinel abilities, and he was pretty sure it would. His heart told him he could trust this woman, and it was very rare his instincts were wrong.
Jim smiled as he remembered the day he'd told her about his Sentinel abilities. She looked at him like he was trying to pull her leg. "Okay," she'd said, "if this is true, then you can read that plaque on the back wall."
Her jaw almost dropped when Jim had read it word for word, and he'd assured her that he hadn't read it up close at any time previous to that. She'd accepted and believed him, and told him of a legend of her people about others who had similar abilities.
"Jim, Jim! You here or what?" she asked him, bringing him out of his reverie.
"Sorry, Sybil, just thinking, lost in thought, I guess."
"So, how did today go? How did it feel to be back at work?"
"It went fine, and it felt great to be back at work, though I missed having Blair with me. I'm glad I decided to go back early, it gives me something else to focus on, and I need that right now."
"What do you mean by that, Jim?"
"Well, as I've told you, it's never been easy for me to express my emotions, let alone talk about them, to try and deal with them. I've been doing that so much lately that my life felt out of balance. Like I'd swung from one extreme to the other. And extremes of any kind aren't good, are they?"
"You have a point there, Jim. Now, last week, you said you'd had some insight into what was the cause behind your abusive behaviour, and you wanted the weekend to explore that. What have you come up with?"
"I realized I'd never dealt with how I really felt about what Blair had been doing. I was angry with him for doing it, and angry with myself for not noticing sooner, for not protecting him from whatever made him do it. I'm supposed to protect him and I failed. Instead of talking with him about it, I kept it inside. Every time I'd get angry over something, it was like there was this larger anger behind it, and instead of dealing with it, I'd push it away. But I didn't really push it away, I expressed it physically, by hurting Blair. I held onto my anger at what he'd done, instead of letting it go. My frustration with myself and how inadequate I'd been, and this anger just seemed to roll in and over each other, building, like a snowball rolling down a hill. God, I don't know if that makes sense or not, Sybil."
"No, it does, Jim. Instead of expressing your anger, frustration, fear, and sense of failure, by talking about it, you tried to keep it inside. It would explode, like anything under pressure will, and that explosion took the form of hurting the one that you felt, even if it was subconsciously, was responsible for those feelings."
"Yeah. And every time I hurt Blair, it was like I was in some kind of zone out, like I was watching things from a distance. Then I'd get angry at myself, and it would just seem to start the whole cycle over again. It was like during that time I was someone else."
They spent the rest of the session coming up with strategies to help Jim express his anger, and other feelings, in safe, comfortable ways.
Wednesday
"Ellison, my office, now!" Simon yelled into the bullpen.
Obeying his Captain's summons, Jim went into his office. Simon handed Jim a file folder, "This is your latest case, I'd like you to read that, then we'll discuss it." Simon looked at his watch. "Damn, Jim, I have to go out for a few minutes, can you wait here for me?"
"Yeah, sure, Simon, no problem," Jim answered as he settled in a chair to read the report.
He was so engrossed in the folder that he didn't hear the footsteps or notice the man standing behind him, until he heard a soft voice say, "Jim."
He jumped up and turned around, looking, not quite believing, "Blair? Is it really you?" Jim wanted nothing more than to pull Blair into his arms, but he resisted, not wanting to scare the other man. "Can I hug you?"
Blair looked up at Jim, tears shining in his eyes, "Oh, yeah, Big Guy."
Jim pulled Blair into his arms, and when he felt Blair's arms twine around his neck, he could feel the tears well up in his own eyes. "Oh, Blair, I love you. I'm so sorry."
"I know, Jim. I love you too," Blair said, placing a gentle kiss on Jim's lips.
As they stood there, holding onto one another, both men knew that
this was just the beginning, that there was a long road ahead of
them, and that it would require a lot of work. That there would
be a lot of pain, but that there would be joy as well. They also
both realized that it would be worth it. And that there was no
where else they wanted to be.