For Major Crimes, the day started out as any other, in fact, better than most.
For Henri Brown, the day started out late. By twenty minutes. When his alarm went off, he ignored it, completely. Because he wasn't alone in his bed. Susie was lying curled up next to him and it had been a long time coming. But last night, she'd suggested ending the evening at his place. He didn't say no.
Of course, his partner, Brian Rafe would have something to say about Brown's lateness, he always did. But Henri just smiled, caressed the lovely lady next to him and decided to be even later.
Brian Rafe wasn't in the least bit worried about his, oh so late partner. Detective Rafe hadn't awakened alone either. As he'd rolled over expecting to see the usual empty half of his bed, he was quickly reminded it wasn't so empty. He was reminded by the slender sleeping body stretched out beside him. He smiled sleepily and let his fingers play with the curls splayed out on the pillow.
Last night had been better than any fantasy he'd entertained and he was still reeling from the fact that it had happened. A dream come true. Brian Rafe was, at that moment, a supremely happy man. And happier still when the body reached for him and he took Inspector Megan Connor into his arms.
No, Brian Rafe wasn't the least bit worried about a late Henri Brown.
For Detective Joel Taggert, the mornings were once again something to look forward to. Especially now that he was working with Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. He was constantly learning this new aspect of police work, and this was certainly responsible in part, for his good mood, but the real pleasure came from watching Ellison and Sandburg. The interplay between them, the exchange of quips, the way both minds worked, coming from completely different planets and yet, each giving something to a case, often arriving simultaneously at the same answer. And how, just as often, they'd look at each other with the exact same expression because the exact same conclusion had been arrived at the exact same time.
Then Joel would watch Ellison smile at Sandburg, a smile not given to any other, and he'd watch the smile returned and he'd bask in the glow of both smiles. The two men were so obviously in love and were equally oblivious to that fact.
And that was another reason why his mornings, in fact his days, were so fun. Observing the "clueless" detectives, and trying to figure out ways to tip the idiots off.
With a smile, a new plan and a whistle, Joel left for work.
Detective Beth Jenkins started her morning in the usual fashion. Getting one husband off to his work and two small children off to elementary school. Which left her exactly fifteen minutes to relax, sip her tea, suggested by one Blair Sandburg, and contemplate on another day of catching the bad guys with her partner, Luis Maldonado.
Beth had been excited when four years ago, she'd been accepted into Major Crimes, a department still relatively female free. MC was the toughest assignment a detective could receive and only the cream of the crop made it.
She'd tossed and turned for many a night, trying to decide. Not because of the danger, but rather because of her family. She knew she could do the job, and do it damn well, but she was a mother, with two small children. How would that mesh? But her husband, Sam, supported her, backed her every inch of the way, so in the end, she'd gone for it. And that support had never wavered. Not once in four years.
She was firmly entrenched in MC and wouldn't have it any other way. MC was special and every detective knew it. Captain Banks was their leader and Detective Ellison, their guardian.
Beth checked her watch and realized she was now out of "mommyminutes". She was ready to slip into her "Detective Jenkins" mode. She smiled slightly as she wondered what her partner had in store for the rookie. It was Luis' turn to harass their newest member and Maldonado was the most devious, which was why he had been saved for the last day Beth almost felt sorry for Sandburg. Almost. As she grabbed her purse and keys, her grin widened.
Detective Martin Regan gave his partner, Detective Peter Sbarro, a quick jab in the ribs. The form never moved.
"Get up, you lazy bum."
An incoherent mumble was his reward this time.
"Jesus, Peter, we're gonna be late again and I hate it when Simon waves that cigar in my face. Now come on, get up."
Sbarro rolled over, grunted and opened one brown eye.
"Fuck. You're already dressed. How do you do that? And how can I pillage, plunder and ravage if you're already dressed?"
"You can't. Now get up or I leave without you."
Peter pulled himself up, running a hand over his crew-cut and letting the sheet slip down to show his partner a bright-eyed and wide awake cock. Martin just snorted and turned away, mumbling something about brazen hussies.
"You know, you threaten to leave without me at least three times a week. You'd think by now you'd realize that it was an empty threat."
"One of these days, Peter, one of these days."
Sbarro rolled out of bed and padded over to his lover, who stood in front of the dresser, straightening his tie. Peter slipped his arm around Martin's slender waist and rested his chin on the taller man's shoulder.
"You'd never leave without me and you know it."
Martin looked at their reflection in the mirror and marveled again at what he saw. They were both so different. So different in looks, temperment and backgrounds and yet ~ so perfect together.
Peter came from Little Italy, a family of cops. He was short and stocky, but with his blonde hair, it was obvious that he took after his mother and her northern Italian heritage. The younger man had struggled at the academy just as he'd struggled in school, but he was stubborn and he'd perservered. When he'd told his family he was going after Major Crimes, they'd prepared themselves for his first failure. But he'd surprised them all. However, once in MC, his temper had nearly gotten him kicked out more than once in his first year. Then he was partnered with Martin.
Calm, cool, never ruffled, Martin Regan. Black irish, but no temper and he didn't drink. His dark curly hair and irish green eyes had sparked something in Peter almost from the getgo. Martin was an overachiever from pre-school age, he'd always been a straight "A" student and graduated top of his academy class. He had no family left, but the Sbarro's had immediately adopted him. As their obvious son-in-law.
There were three inches difference in their height and eight years difference in their ages, but somehow, together, they created this incredible person. And in bed? The sparks flew.
Peter gave Martin's ear a quick nip.
"You think Ellison will ever get on the clue bus?"
"He'd better, and damn quick. How long will Blair hang around? And you? Shower ~ now."
"I'm going and Blair would never leave Ellison, he'll hang around forever, he loves the guy, he just hasn't a clue what to do about it."
"He's never been with a guy before."
"Oh, and Ellison has?"
"SHOWER! And yes, Ellison has."
Peter had started for the bathroom, but stopped at Martin's words.
"Ellison?", he squeaked.
"Ellison."
"You know this?"
"I know this."
Peter shook his head in wonder and headed to the bathroom muttering something about his gaydar being on the blink and could you go to a doctor about something like that.....
Martin couldn't resist. He swatted his partner's very fine ass, then pulled him back into his arms and whispered, "Shower later ~ fuck now, and you're gaydar is working just fine. You found me, didn't you? Ellison just has excellent jamming equipment."
"Mmmm, so we're late again?"
Peter got no answer.
Luis Maldonado was feeling no pain as he ran the last 25 yards of his early morning ritual. Running kept him in shape and lately kept his mind off his wife, Barbara, or rather, his soon-to-be ex wife.
As he turned up his driveway, he stopped long enough to pick up the paper, then sprinted the last few feet to his backdoor. As he entered the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs overwhelmed him and he watched as his sixteen year old daughter, Tirza, piled eggs onto a platter that already held bacon and toast.
"Hey, Dad, just in time. Breakfast is ready."
He looked at the mound of food and wondered how to break it to his lovely girl that he was watching his cholesterol.
"Dad, don't worry, the bacon is mine and the eggs are Egg Beaters. Perfectly healthy. Dig in."
"Girl, you're a wonder."
"A jewel, that's me."
As they ate, Tirza filled him in on her life, the current school play and her newest "love". Tirza had been hit hard by her mother's absence, but harder still for her father. And she was trying so hard to take Barbara's place as the woman of the house.
He gazed tenderly at his "little girl" and felt an overpowering feeling of wonderment that he and Barbara had created this young woman.
"Hey, pop, tell me what you have planned for Blair today. Something wicked, I bet."
"Oh, yeah, it's good. And foolproof. He'll never trip onto this one."
"Poor Blair." She quickly shoveled more food into her mouth, swallowed, took a gulp of orange juice, then stood and gathered her books.
"Outta here, Dad. Bus ~ any minute." And she dropped a quick kiss on the top of his short, buzz cut, stuffed another piece of bacon into her mouth and was gone.
And he was left alone in Barbara's kitchen.
She'd been standing right there, by the stove, taking out his four hour old dinner. And telling him she couldn't handle it any more. She had to leave to preserve her sanity. Two days later, he and Tirza were alone.
That had been three weeks ago. He got up and walked slowly into his room. Major Crimes waited.
"Sandburg, where's my blue tie? The one with the dark blue triangles."
Footsteps, then Sandburg at the french doors, looking up. Jim Ellison peered over the rail and into amused blue eyes.
"And I would know where your tie was exactly how?"
"I need the tie, Sandburg."
"Well.....you could try the tie rack Connor got you for your birthday."
Blair turned away and walked into the kitchen but not before Jim caught the smirk. The detective walked over to his closet and sure enough, there hung the tie rack. The same tie rack that he'd stored in the very back of his closet.
"You're a sneak, Chief!"
"Hey, it wasn't me ~ it was the tie elf."
Blair was slathering strawberry creamcheese on a toasted bagel, but since he didn't have sentinel hearing, he missed Jim's snort and his comment about someday "elfing" his roommate.
Ellison came downstairs a few minutes later, dropped his jacket on the back of the couch and joined his partner in the kitchen. As he passed Sandburg, on his way to the coffee, the younger man handed off half the bagel over his shoulder and Jim deftly caught it and stuck it in his mouth.
Three bites, and two coffee gulps later he finally looked at his partner.
"Chief, you're wearing flannel."
Chief looked down, then up.
"Why yes, Jim, I am. Very astute."
"You get sworn in today. Four sharp. You're wearing flannel and jeans."
"It's not a real swearing in, and my suit is over there."
Jim followed Blair's head movement and sure enough, a garment bag hung on one of the pegs next to the door.
"Too bad poor Detective Ellison has court. He has to wear a suit all day. Sniffle."
"I can feel the sympathy flowing off of you, Chief."
In answer, Blair took the last of his bagel, which Jim had been eyeing, and popped it into Jim's mouth. And before the bigger man could retaliate, he scooted around him and back out into the livingroom.
"Quit stuffing your face, Ellison, we're gonna be late."
"Shit. I've got twenty minutes to get you to Major Crimes and me to court."
"Now I'm just talking off the top of my head here, I'm not a real detective yet, but, you could let me drop you."
"That would mean you drive the truck."
"Another astute observation from the senior detective. Man, I just learn sooo much from you."
An apple, picked up from fruit bowl, sailed across the livingroom to be expertly caught.
"Gee, Jim, for me?"
"Jerk. And just when does the classic get out of the shop?"
"Monday."
The truck keys followed the same flight path as the apple and were just as expertly caught.
"Alright, Junior, you drive."
Sandburg bit into the apple to keep from laughing outright.
Captain Simon Banks climbed into his car, eager to get to work. Today, he would officially swear in a new detective. The whole ceremony had been given the green light by the mayor, no less, and since more than a little red tape had been snipped to make this happen, it was decided that the swearing in would be private and take place in his office. Which was exactly how everyone wanted it. Just family. The Major Crimes family. His family.
And by 4:05, Blair Sandburg would be Detective Blair Sandburg and the permanent and official partner of Detective Jim Ellison.
Simon afforded himself a huge grin. Yes, it was a good day. His entire family was intact and Daryl had agreed to re-think college before the academy. Life was good. And he couldn't wait to see what joke Luis had planned for their new rookie.
The gang had been teasing Blair all week, playing practical jokes, most of which Blair managed to deflect back onto the perps. But Luis was the acknowledged master and Blair would fall today.
Banks gave a chomp on his cigar and chuckled.
Yep, it was going to be a very good day.
Three hours in a courtroom and he'd yet to testify. And now, court dismissed ~ for the rest of the day. Which was a good thing, as he'd been worried he'd hold up the ceremony at four. Now he stood at the bottom of the courtroom steps, waiting for Sandburg. Which was also a good thing because it gave him time to finish worrying. And worrying had become his favorite pastime of late.
He did a quick mental review of his "Ellison's Top Five Worries" list:
#5: He'd actually have to let Sandburg drive occassionally. And yes, he knew damn well that Blair was actually the better driver and would probably congratulate him for giving up some of his perceived control. Well, fuck Sandburg. Which led directly to...... #4: Fucking Sandburg.
His partner. Not kosher. Not happening yet either, but Jim had hopes, the signals seemed to be there for both of them. And they weren't exactly your average partnership. They were Sentinel and Guide. Not like they could be seperated. And damn, he did love the guy. Which sent him directly to.... #3: He couldn't make Sandburg stay in the truck anymore.
Okay, he could never make Sandburg stay in the truck so maybe he should go directly to..... #2: Blair and his new job. Blair, the anthropologist, now cop. Blair, who'd had two lives, one with Jim and MC, and one at the University. Now it would be Jim: 24/7.
How soon before it was all too much for Sandburg?
And then there was worry number one. Numero Uno, the big one. He could lose Blair. He could lose him in so many ways.
"Did he fall for it?"
Henri Brown was perched on the edge of Maldonaldo's desk, one of his biggest grins plastered across his face. Luis looked up and winked.
"Hook, line and sinker, Compadre, hook, line and sinker. He was stopping at the Post Office first, then onto.....".
"Excuse me, is there a Detective Maldonaldo here?" A tall, skinny young man stood, just inside the squad room.
Puzzled, Luis stood.
"I'm Det. Maldonaldo."
"Here you go, man."
Three men entered with dozens of bags and on each bag was the logo and restaurant name, "Wonderburger".
The mountains of goodies were set down on every available space and the men went back out and returned a few moments later, this time carrying containers of drinks. When everything was down, the young man who'd first approached the detective, pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and laid it down on Maldonaldo's desk.
"Hey, man. You were lucky, some guy called and said the order you'd placed was wrong, that it should have been doubled, with half going to Vice. We've already delivered there and they said thanks."
The kid stood there, waiting. For his money.
Luis looked at the bill. $125. And Major Crimes exploded in laughter. Sandburg had done it again. He'd successfully turned the joke around and turned the perp into the victim. There was a new king.
Maldonaldo forked over the money, the money Sandburg should have to give up while supposedly picking up just two lunches.
"Damn, he's good." Luis mumbled.
Beth grabbed one of the bags, plopped down opposite her partner, gave him a saucy wink and said, "Gee, partner, thanks for lunch', then she turned to everyone and yelled, "RIGHT, GUYS?"
A hail of "Right", "Amen, sister", and "Long Live the new King!" greeted her question.
Which was when Simon came out of his office. And he wasn't smiling. The joking and bantering came to an abrupt halt and MC waited.
"We have a hostage situation at the Twelfth Street Post Office. FBI is rolling. Rafe, you take Connor. Brown, you stay here and co-ordinate with the Feds. Maldonado - Jenkins, roll."
But Luis didn't move.
"Sandburg. He was going to the ~ Post Office."
"Roll, people."
The four detectives moved.
Simon turned the corner onto Lexington and pulled up alongside of Ellison. Jim jumped in and Simon sped off, with lights and sirens.
After Maldonado's announcement, Simon had immediately called Jim, gave him all the facts as they were known and told Jim he'd be right there.
Now Ellison sat, stiff, looking straight ahead.
"Simon, do we know for sure?"
"No. But he didn't answer his cell."
"He would have turned it off the minute he knew there was trouble and he couldn't use it."
"That's what I figured."
A few minutes later, they, along with other squad cars, SWAT trucks and FBI vehicles, were pulling into the parking lot of the Twelfth Street Federal Post Office.
Both men quickly exited the car and, keeping low, made their way over to Joel.
"Taggert?"
"The FBI has already taken over. They won't even let us deploy our people, hell, they won't even let them out their cars! I approached the AIC, Agent Lister, told him one of our men was probably inside, but he brushed me off. This is weird, Simon."
As Joel talked, Jim concentrated on the voices coming from inside the Post Office, listening for one in particular. He didn't have to listen for long.
<<Sssh, it's okay, sweetheart, don't cry.>>
Jim could hear what sounded like several small children whimpering and Sandburg trying to calm them, then......
<<SHUT THAT BRAT UP, OR I WILL!>>
He heard the speaker move forward, heard Blair trying to reason with the man, then heard the crunch of flesh hitting flesh, followed by another yell.....
<<THE COPS! THE PARKING LOT IS CRAWLING WITH 'EM!>>
And finally, Blair's voice again, obviously directed to the cop he was hoping could hear...
<<Jim, there are eight of them. Terrorists. Heavily armed, kevlar, explosives, very high tech weaponry. Something went wrong, I heard one say that the FBI had been waiting for them. Jim, you've got to get our people back, these guys can cut you all to ribbons.>>
Ellison glanced over at Simon, but found the space next to him empty. Banks had moved to the AIC and was talking and angrily gesturing to the agent. Jim turned to Joel, resting one hand on the other detective's arm.
"Joel, get in your car and pull back, onto the street. Tell the others to do the same. Now."
Joel understood completely. As he started away, he confirmed, "He's in there?"
"Yeah, now move."
"Got it."
The warning was good. Accurate. And way too late.
As Joel climbed into his car and reached for the radio, one of the terrorists lifted a blind just enough to get a count. That was all that one very angry and frustrated FBI agent, named Elkins, needed. He took careful aim and fired.
And the world exploded.
The terrorists inside immediately retaliated by opening fire on anything that moved.
The officers and Detectives of Major Crimes were sitting ducks.
A volley of bullets hit the beige Taurus driven by Luis Maldonado just as he got the word from Joel to pull back. He was putting the Taurus into gear when the bullets hit. The second volley of bullets hit both Maldonado and Jenkins. Maldonado was struck twice in the leg and Jenkins was hit in the chest and the neck. Luis still managed to get the car turned around but got no further as another volley took out his tires and the car plowed into several parked vehicles.
Joel saw the bullets hit the Taurus and with a start, realized his own car was being pummeled as well. He made a desperate dive out his door and rolled away, coming up behind the mini-mail center. He drew his gun, but correctly held his fire.
Detectives Martin and Sbarro had just pulled their white Buick into the parking lot, on the other side of the Taurus, when the shooting began. There was nowhere for Martin to go. As the car was hit, Peter threw his body over his partners, taking three bullets in the process.
Detective Rafe was parked at the opposite end of the parking lot, next to the FBI. As soon as he realized that Maldonado/Jenkins and Martin/Sbarro were in trouble, he leaned across Connor, released her seatbelt, opened the door and shoved her out. His only thought was to buy his friends some time. He hit the accelerator and drove across the parking lot, directly in front of the building.
Joel, who was trapped, watched in horror as both cars were strafed, then watched in equal horror as Rafe drove through it. He knew what Rafe was trying to do and looked frantically around for help. He spotted Jim and Simon moving quickly toward him, ducking and dodging. As the gunfire moved away from the two cars and concentrated on Rafe, the three men made their move, and working with uncanny timing, saying not a word, they pulled the four detectives from the cars and got them back to the safety of the mini- mail center.
Joel and Simon immediately began assessing the conditions of the four people, while Jim ran back toward Rafe. The Blazer had finally slowed and come to a stop a mere two inches from the Taurus. Weaving and bobbing and against all the odds, Ellison reached the Blazer and pulled Rafe out. He gave a fleeting thought to how he would get the injured man back to safety when suddenly he found himself facing a single body armor shield, wielded by Connor. Megan placed herself behind Ellison, who draped Rafe over his shoulders, and together they made their way back to the others.
Agent Lister mobilized his men and the SWAT team and irregardless of the civilians and postal workers inside, he ordered that they open fire on the building. Eventually, he used a full "Five Man Body Armor Shield" to storm the Post Office.
Twenty minutes after the first shot rang out, the war was over.
Three of the terrorists lay dead, two critically wounded. Another was brought down by Sandburg and the other two dropped their weapons and hit the floor when the FBI broke in.
Two civilians were also dead, victims of the FBI assault. Three Postal workers received minor injuries.
Blair Sandburg kept five of the civilians safe by getting them face down on the ground the moment the shooting began. He pulled two of the big work tables down on either side of the two women and three children.
The ninth civilian had hidden under a counter and stayed there. He was a thirty two year old security guard from the bank down the street.
Blair came out of the Post Office and into what looked like the remains of Armeggedon. He stood blinking in the sunlight, unbelieving, as he watched men limping, holding wounds, at paramedics, rushing from one site to another, watched as officers rushed forward, taking the remaining civilians, and observed the press, swarming over the scene like locusts.
His eyes scanned the bodies, looking with his heart in his throat, looking for......
"Blair?"
Jim stood before him, his clothes covered in blood. Blair's hands went out to him, but Ellison stopped him.
"Not mine. You okay?"
Sandburg nodded, relieved, and Jim carefully steered him over to where a stunned Simon stood, hand rubbing his jaw as he gazed down on the devastation.
Blair could only stare.
Martin Regan sat on the asphalt, cradling Peter Sbarro's body in his arms as paramedics tried to pull the lifeless body away.
Luis was being lifted onto an ambulance and was conscious, but his eyes were trained on one of two covered stretchers, both waiting for the Coroner's Van.
Megan sat on the ground next to the other stretcher, her hand resting on the blanket that didn't quiet hide Detective Brian Rafe's head. Joel
sat with her, his arms around her, giving comfort the only way he could, his own face tear streaked.
Beth Jenkins had died the instant the second bullet pierced her neck.
Peter died in his partner's arms, after briefly regaining consciousness. Martin's face was the last thing he saw.
Brian Rafe had been hit seven times. He'd died before his Blazer ever came to a stop.
Blair felt the tears threaten, even as his mind and body tried to deny the truth. He started forward, to go to whom, he didn't know, but he was stopped by the loud and angry voice of AIC Lister.
"BANKS! WHERE IS HE? WHERE'S THE MAN YOU HAD INSIDE?"
His anger and rage was palpable. Banks didn't have the opportunity to answer, Blair stepped forward.
"I was inside."
Before anyone could react, could stop what happened next, Lister flew at Sandburg, grabbed him by his shirt and shoved him back like a man possessed. The two men crashed into the side of the Post Office Island and Sandburg's head snapped back, striking the concrete wall, then flopped forward. Jim and Simon moved as one, ready to pull the agent off the younger man, but they didn't get to him before he wrenched Blair away from the wall and struck him with all the force of his insanity.
Blair's body lurched back, again striking the block wall, then down, the back of his head thudding against the metal stamp machine before he hit the ground, where he lay, stunned.
Simon grabbed the agent, his own anger finding a outlet. He lifted the man as if he were a ragdoll and tossed him away.
Jim got to Blair's side as he was struggling to stand. He put his arm around the younger man, supporting him and bringing him to his feet..
"Blair? You okay?"
Sandburg turned his head with great difficulty but slowly nodded, his hand absently going to the back of his head.
"Fine....I'm fine."
Two other agents had come running and now held Lister up, but the agent was yelling directly at Sandburg.
"THIS IS YOUR FAULT! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING IN THERE?"
Sandburg blinked a couple of times and painfully looked over at his friends, at Peter's still form, at the two covered stretchers, at Martin's rocking body, at Megan.......
Simon took a step toward Lister.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH! THREE OF MY PEOPLE ARE DEAD. TWO CIVILIANS ARE DEAD. AND ONLY ONE PERSON IS RESPONSIBLE ~ YOU! NOW GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM PEOPLE OR I WON'T BE RESPONSIBLE!"
One of the other agents began to pull Lister back, while the second one looked at them all, his eyes taking in the enormity of it.
"I ~ I'm sorry."
And he too, was gone.
Simon took several deep breaths and once again turned his attentions to his detectives.
Blair stumbled forward, his face contorted in pain, his eyes pleading.
"My fault? I did ~ this? I did this, Simon?", his voice cracked with emotion as he looked at the horror around him.
"I didn't ~ know.....how could.....I have...." his voice finally broke then and his hand came away from the back of his head and everyone could see the blood covering it and he turned helplessly back to Jim...."Please, Jim, please, I'm so sorry, so....sorry, how could I?
Peter......Beth.....oh, god, Jim......Rafe, Rafe is dead....".
Jim moved swiftly, trying to take Blair, to tell him it wasn't his fault, to tell him he'd done everything right, everything he could, but before he reached him, before he could utter a word, Blair's eyes rolled back in his head, his body convulsed and he pitched forward. Jim just caught him.
<
Captain Simon Banks sat down in the hospital corridor and dropped his head into his hands.
Three of his people dead. Another might lose his leg and still another......in a coma. He looked at his watch. It was five-thirty. Sandburg was a detective now, even if the actual official/unofficial ceremony hadn't happened. Might never happen.
He sat back, resting his head against the wall.
Dear God.
He'd just come from Luis Maldonado's room, where Tirza sat quietly by his side, pale but brave, asking about Beth's family and reassuring him that her dad would be fine, would be back on the job......
He'd seen Sam Jenkins earlier, giving him the news personally, as was his want. He could still see the man's face, the two small children, so like their mother, standing behind their father, not sure what was happening, but knowing it was bad.....
Then the call to Brian Rafe's brother, his only family. But not before facing Henri Brown. The man he'd left behind, the man who hadn't been with his partner in his final minutes. And the fact that Detective Brian Rafe had died for his fellow officers would bring little comfort right now. And Megan, God, Megan. He'd known about their growing attachment, had watched it grow much the same way he'd watched Jim and Blair.....But Megan was strong, tough. He'd wanted to take her home, but she'd insisted on going back to the station, to work, to be with Henri.
And finally Martin. Who had relinguished Peter's body and then insisted on being the one to tell Peter's family. Simon had driven the quiet man to the Sbarro home, knowing full well that George Sbarro, retired cop, would already know. When Simon had pulled up in front of the green house on Edson Street, the front door had opened and six Sbarro's spilled out, crying, arms open, quickly taking Martin into their fold.
George had seperated himself and joined Simon on the curb and the two men had faced each other until Big George pulled the detective into his huge embrace, crying openly for his son, his "son-in-law" and for Simon.
Simon opened his eyes and prepared himself to go up to ICU, to see Jim, who was undoubtedly still sitting next to Blair, where he'd left him all those hours ago.
God, all that violence and Blair had survived. Not only survived, but as Simon had learned earlier, had actually saved two women and three children, had kept his head, kept things as calm as possible, until one stupid man had open-fired and an egotistical bastard had ordered the all out assault on the Post Office.
But Blair had made it, and others because of him, and yet, he lay upstairs, comatose, at death's door because of one arrogant son of a bitch.
"How are we going to survive this? Will we survive this?" Simon was talking to no one in particular....maybe a god, someone's god.
He pushed himself up, suddenly feeling twice his age. He moved to the elevator. Time to see Blair.
As Banks turned the corner, approaching ICU, he was surprised at what he saw, he shouldn't have been, but he was.
Sitting on the chairs opposite Blair's room were Megan, Brown and Joel. All three watched him as he approached and Joel quickly rose and went to his side.
"They had to come, Simon. Henri....he wanted to see ~ Rafe. I couldn't stop him. Then we checked on Luis and they had to come up here."
Simon glanced past the big man, at the door of Blair's room, then back to Connor and Brown and he did understand.
"It's alright, Joel. How is he?"
"No change. They're hoping they can avoid surgery, to relieve the pressure, but....."
"He still won't leave?"
Joel shook his head.
"Damn."
Joel didn't need to ask about the last few hours, he'd been there, he knew.
Simon walked over to the door and peered into the small window.....watched both still, unmoving bodies.
"I'm not going to lose another one. I'm not. I won't let it happen."
For five days, Major Crimes kept their vigil. And buried three of their own.
All three ceremonies were gut wrenching as not once, not twice, but three times, the Cascade Police Department gathered at Mount Hope Cemetary, with families and friends, to say their last good-bye to a fellow officer.
Good-byes that shouldn't have been necessary, farewells that were bitter and full of anger. Three fine people, three individuals, needed by their families, by their friends, by their fellow officers and by the city. Three of Cascade's finest, cut down before their time.
Detective Beth Jenkins - age 36, the first female officer in the history of the Cascade P.D. to die in the line of fire.
Detective Peter Sbarro - age 30, heroic in his protection of his partner.
And Detective Brian Rafe - age 33, hailed a hero by the city for putting his fellow officers ahead of his own safety and ultimately, ahead of his own life.
All Officers of the Law. Risks, an accepted part of the job. But not this time. This time it shouldn't have happened.
There would be some satisfaction for the Officers, Detectives and families when Agent John Lister was suspended. And when it was learned that the agent who had fired the opening shot was fired. There was satisfaction when it was finally announced that Agent Lister would be facing criminal charges and if Blair Sandburg died......but no one was willing to go there.
But the successful turning wheels of justice would have been given up gladly to see Rafe, Peter and Beth, alive, working, laughing and loving.
No amount of justice, or revenge could bring them back ~ could assuage the intense loss or the massive grief.
And so the men and women of the Cascade P.D. mourned, and held vigil and prayed. Prayed that another member would not be taken from them.
Jim Ellison sat next to the bed, his hand resting lightly on top of Blair's. He knew Simon was nearby, and he was conscious of others, coming and going, but it didn't mean anything to him. Blair was in a coma, having suffered a skull fracture, with complications from the intense beating his brain had taken. They'd been lucky in controlling the fluid build up and surgery had not been necessary, but the doctors could not predict the extent of damage Blair had suffered and the MRI's had offered little due to the swelling.
Jim knew his friends had been buried, but he couldn't leave Sandburg. His unreasoning fear that Blair would let go, if Jim wasn't there, kept him rooted to the chair, getting up only to use the bathroom, sleeping and eating at his bedside.
Slowly he ran his finger in circles over Blair's hand, letting his eyes roam over every feature of his face, willing himself into Blair, willing his strength into Blair, by the sheer force of his look.
On the sixth day, at 9:30am, Blair Sandburg woke up.
Jim felt the fingers move within his grasp and leaned forward to encourage Blair, when his eyes flew open.
He blinked a couple of times, yawned, looked slowly around the room, then back at the man sitting beside him.
"where's ~ my mommy?"
The voice was so small, so hesitant and so ~ young.
"Blair, do you know....where you are?"
The wide eyes took another look around the room, then, "hos~pital?"
Before Jim could do more, Dr. Nichols and Blair's ICU nurse hurried in, alerted by the finger monitor.
"Well, looks like our patient has finally decided to wake up."
Blair looked past the doctor, past the nurse, past the open door, looking for a face, the right face.
"mommy. where's mommy?", his fingers instinctively closed around Jim's hand. "....and deva, where's deva? i need ~ deva, please."
Dr. Nichols looked at Jim, who could only give a worried shrug.
Nichols turned his attention back to Blair.
"Do you know your name?", he asked gently.
Blair pursed his lips and gave what could only be considered a disgusted look and answered, "Of course, silly. blair. i'm blair....is my mommy away?"
"Blair, how old are you?"
Blair looked at everyone in the room as if they should know this, but decided to play the grown-up game anyway. He held up five fingers, then waggled one more.
"six. i'm six", he looked down shyly, then added,"almost. almost six. can't i have deva?"
Jim took over then, his heart beating wildly in his chest, threatening to burst through.
"Blair, I'm Jim and I'm a friend of Naomi's. She's away, but will get here as soon as she can. You hurt your head and that's why you're here."
"oh. are you mommy's boyfriend?"
Jim smiled and shook his head, "No, just a friend and your friend too."
He seemed to consider that and then smiled brightly, " 'kay, where's deva?"
Dr. Nichols looked again at Jim, his expression clearly stating that Jim should know this, but all Jim could do was shake his head.
"I'm Dr. Nichols, Blair. Can you tell me who this deva is?"
"my friend. he protects me, please, can't I have him?"
"Well, what does he look like? And maybe we can find him."
"he doesn't look like anything, he's a..... jaguar and he's soft and he keeps me warm, but he's not a panther, or a leopard, he's ~ jaguar. don't call him a panther or a leopard, he'll gro-o-w-l", and he made a little growling noise, deep in his throat.
"How big is deva?"
"little, like me. he's stuffed, you know. not real, silly."
Dr. Nichols had the grace to blush. He'd been certain that this deva was an imaginary friend.
"Well, I'm sure Jim, here, can find this "jaguar" for you, in the meantime, I need to check you out, okay?"
"umm, my head doesn't hurt tho', but i'm thirsty. water?"
"We can certainly take care of that", Nichols turned to the nurse, who nodded and hurried out.
"Detective Ellison, could you step out for a few minutes?"
Jim wanted to argue, to refuse, but the hand gripping his tightened, then let go and, "it's okay, i'm brave", Blair announced boldly.
The detective looked into that trusting face and nodded, "Yes, you are. I'll be right outside, if you need me."
Jim stepped out into the corridor to find Connor and Taggert waiting. Joel spoke first.
"How is he?"
Jim looked from one concerned face to the other, noting Megan's pale features and red rimmed eyes. God. He swiped a hand over his face.
"He's awake. But....he's not....he's a little ~ boy. He knows who he is, but he's, he thinks he's, he's only five." The last words rushed out of him.
Both Connor and Taggert were stunned, to say the least and both gave quick glances back to the room, then back to Jim.
"Joel? Could you do me a favor? Go down to the gift shop and see if they have a stuffed, black jaguar?"
Taggert's face said it all. Jim had finally broken down.
"Jim, man, you okay?"
"It's for Blair. Evidently he had a stuffed animal, a jaguar, and he wants it."
The words were spoken so softly, so gently, with so much love, that Megan felt the tears that always seemed to be just hiding behind her eyes lately, spill down her cheeks.
"I'll go, Jim. Henri took.....Bri's brother to the airport, maybe Joel would ~ could, let Henri know what's happened here?"
Joel nodded, took Megan's hand and together they walked to the elevator.
Jim sat down heavily, his legs no longer able to support him. He watched the doctor as he went through his minstrations, asked his questions and listened as a frightened, but very brave, five year old answered. And inside Jim seethed. Anger at Lister and anger at Naomi, who still had not been found, had not responded to the dozens of messages left around the world.
"Detective Ellison?"
Jim had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd allowed Nichols to approach him without any sentinel awareness. He stood quickly.
"Well?"
"Basically, the injury to Mr. Sandburg's brain has damaged some cells, as we feared. In this case, he's been left with twenty-four years of his life ~ gone. He is a five year old. A five year old Blair Sandburg."
Jim swallowed the lump that had formed in his stomach and asked the question for which he was certain he knew the answer.
"Is it.....will it be ~ permanent?"
"Detective Ellison, I'd be a fool to answer that prematurely. I'm ordering another CAT Scan, so we can see exactly what's going on in there, and maybe we'll know more after I see the results."
Jim had no choice but to accept the doctor's words.
"May I go back inside?"
It was a testament to the depth of Jim's shock and his fears that he was asking permission to rejoin Blair.
"Of course. I'll be scheduling some other tests as well, for later in the day, you might want to prepare Blair."
Jim agreed and went back, albeit, tentatively, to the hospital room.
The huge smile that greeted his entrance went far in assuring him that his presence was accepted and Blair's next words assured him that not only was he accepted, but wanted as well.
"you came back!"
Jim took his seat and re-claimed the hand that was gripping and twisting the blanket so hard, that it's knuckles were white.
"Yes, and I'll stay as long as you want."
The body relaxed ever so slightly, then fidigeted a bit, the blue eyes shifting away, almost in guilt. "i....don't remember you, do i? i'm sorry, i should, i know i should."
"It's okay Blair, your head took a nasty bump."
How could he tell him there was no reason for a five year old Blair to remember a forty year old Jim?
"how did I get hurt this time?"
Jim frowned slightly at the strange wording, but answered, "You fell, just fell, an accident."
Blair seemed relieved at his answer, but then his voice got even smaller and lower, "mickey wasn't there, was he? mommy promised she'd make sure mickey didn't come over anymore. she'll get mad if mickey was there."
"No, Mickey wasn't there. It was just an accident.....".
He wanted to ask more about this "Mickey", but a squeak from the bed stopped him.
"deva!" and arms reached out as Megan placed a stuffed black cat into eager and wiggling fingers.
Blair hugged the stuffed cat to his chest, dropping his cheek onto the soft, furry head. His eyes closed and he cuddled and rocked gently.
Jim shot a grateful glance up to Connor, who was watching Blair, eyes wide and moist.
"you found him, you found him."
Connor could only stare at the man in the bed, no at the ~ boy, in the bed and she thought her heart would break all over again. But then the most beautiful smile spread across his face and happy blue eyes opened and gazed with such immediate love and acceptance, that it literally took her breath away.
"Blair, this is Megan."
"megy, you found him."
"Well, Jim told me where to go, Blair."
Megy. He'd called her Megy. No one had called her by that nickname in years. She felt tears threaten again and roughly brought up a hand and rubbed her eyes.
"jim, i forgot megy too, didn't i?"
"No, Blair, you didn't forget her, you've never met her until now....she's a friend."
"okay", then he held out one of deva's paws to Megan, "i'm blair and this is deva, he's my friend and he keeps me safe." Megan shook the proferred paw, smiling back at Blair, who then turned the cat to face him and placed the plastic black nose up against his own and gently scolded, "but he didn't do a very good job this time.....a course, he was lost", then he coo'd, "not your fault, not your fault."
Blair's head came up and he covered the cat's ears with his hands and whispered, "he gets so sad if he thinks he hasn't protected me, but not his fault, was it?"
Ellison felt as if someone had just ripped out his guts. A black jaguar. A protective black jaguar.
Jesus. His spirit guide? With a five year old Blair?
How had he missed it? The moment Blair had described Deva, God, Blair with a black jaguar, he should have seen it. His spirit guide with Blair? Or had Blair simply and instinctively known back when he was five? And thus chose a black Jaguar? And felt protected?
He looked over at the "child" Blair, watched as he "groomed" Deva......cooing, picking, combing with his fingers, and giving an occasional hug.
Megan had left over an hour ago, when the nurse had arrived with Blair's first meal. But before leaving, she'd learned far more about the difference between Jaguars (from South America), Panthers (Asia) and Leopards (Asia and Africa), then she could ever have wanted to know. And both she and Jim had marveled at the information rattling around in Blair's five year old brain. Accepting that he was a fountain of information at thirty was a far cry from realizing that he was also a fountain of information at five.
As Megan had left, she'd dropped a kiss on the top of Blair's head and then had to kiss Deva as well, what with Blair whispering that she couldn't leave Deva out or, "he'd be in 'possible to live with.....".
The grin that had spread across her face was beautiful to see. She'd left the room humming.
Blair's first meal consisted of cerel and juice and even as he ate, he wouldn't put the cat down. But he did talk to it. Telling him juice was bad, very bad, for the cat, and no, he couldn't have any cerel either....but maybe the nurse would bring some chocolate for Deva? He'd smiled slyly at her, peeking from under long lashes, and patiently explained that Deva was speshal and could eat chocolate, but that you should never give chocolate to a regular cat or dog. Never.
The nurse nodded and told him she'd see about scrounging up some chocolate, for Deva of course, and would Blair maybe like some too?
He'd appeared to give that question great thought and finally said that maybe he could eat some too, just so Deva had company. You should never eat chocolate alone.
"this isn't the real deva, you know."
Jim blinked, coming back from his thoughts with a jolt. He'd been afraid Blair would notice that this wasn't the original cat, but had been hoping.....Now, like any good parent, he obfuscated.
"Why sure it is."
Blair just shook his head gently, "nope, megy bought him. but it's okay, cuz the real, real deva just hopped right in. i saw him. he was sitting right over there and when he saw this cat, he just jumped in", then he tried to wink conspiratorially, but both eyes kind of closed, one squinting shut tighter than the other, "you see, this is a leopard, but deva doesn't mind. do you?"
"No, I don't mind. Why should I? As long as Deva is happy and you're happy, I'm happy."
Blair seemed to puzzle over this a minute, because evidently, Jim should mind.
"but.....now this deva is your deva", he said, as if Jim should understand.
"Okaaaay......then I'm very glad he's with you."
That was obviously the correct answer, because he was immediately rewarded with a dazzling smile.
Blair raised his right hand, which had been dutifully petting the soft fur, and then hunched over, wiggling his fingers for Jim to come close.
When Jim leaned in, Blair brought his lips to Jim's ear and whispered, "deva's purring", then he took the man's hand and placed it over the cat's chest and said, "hear it?"
Jim felt the warmth of Blair's hand, the steady flow of blood through veins, both felt and heard the steady heartbeat and then, amazingly, did feel the purring. It lasted for only a moment, but he couldn't hide his delight.
Blair's feet kicked happily under the covers and his laughter bubbled up.
"i knew you would hear it too! mommy always says she hears it and feels it, but i know she doesn't. but your speshul too."
And it was that exchange that Simon Banks walked in on.
Simon had been trying to get his department back on line, fill empty slots and reduce the number of his hours his people had been working.
The stress was evident and his detectives were sullen, silent and tired. He'd finally gotten away long enough to stop by the hospital, but hadn't heard the news about Blair.
Now, standing at the door, watching Blair giggle, then kiss a stuffed animal, he felt as though the last rug had been pulled out from under him and he couldn't stop his natural reaction as he stepped in.
"WHAT the HELL?"
Blair had stretched out his arms, full of cat, to Jim, urging him to kiss Deva, when Simon semi-yelled. The change in Blair was immediate. He froze. Deva dropped onto the bed as fingers let go, then his lower lip began to tremble and he bit down hard. Jim jumped to his feet, starting toward Simon, but Blair's next words stopped him cold.
"didsomethinwrong, didsomethinwrong, i'm sorry, didsomethinwrong......", his breathing started to hitch, as tears welled up and spilled over, and his fingers began to grapple around, his eyes unseeing, as he looked for Deva.
"didsomethinwrong, didsomethinwrong....."
Jim changed course and quickly sat down on the bed, found Deva, placed him in Blair's hands then took him into his arms.
"No,no, sssh, you didn't do anything wrong, ssh, it's okay, Blair." One hand began stroking the shaking back, the other held his head. Blair began to sob, big, gulping sobs, shaking his head back and forth as he continued his agonizing litany......
".....didsomethinwrong, didsomethinwrong", then, "....be good, be good, don't hurt, be good."
Jim shot a pleading look up to Simon, his eyes begging him to do something, and the big man moved slowly forward, speaking gently.
"blair's good, very good. I'm sorry, my fault, not blair's......", and as the sobbing slowed and the shaking stopped, "I was just wondering how my....." he paused and looked at Jim who mouthed "jaguar", "jaguar got here, I could have sworn i'd left him at home, but now i see this jaguar is different, not mine at all."
Blair stopped sobbing altogether and began taking in small gulps of air.
He turned his head cautiously around toward Simon and blinked at him, but kept his arms wrapped tightly around Deva. Then he tilted his head up to Jim, gazing at him from under wet lashes, his face both questioning and trusting.
"not....bad?"
Jim leaned back enough to make eye contact, ran his thumb over tear-streaked cheeks, wiping the moisture away and said, "Not bad, Blair, good, very good. This is Simon. I work for him and he's very good too....", Jim looked mischievously over at his Captain, "except when he thinks he's lost his stuffed cat, and mistakes a five year old's...", Blair waggled one finger at Jim, "sorry, an almost six year old's cat for his, then he's a bear."
Simon "huffed" and Blair turned a curly head back in Simon's direction and openly appraised the big man. After several seconds he wiggled Deva out from between his chest and Jim's and slowly offered him to Simon.
"wanna pet him? he won't bite, he's stuffed."
Simon carefully reached out and scratched behind the cat's ears.
Blair giggled delightedly and wiggled in Jim's arms, "he likes you, that's his favorite thing....", the last word came out as "thaaang" because Blair was yawning.
"Blair, do you mind if I sit with you and Jim for awhile?"
A now sleepy head moved side to side against Jim's chest as Jim continued to make gentle circular motions with his hand, across Blair's back and rocked ever so slightly, back and forth, back and forth. Blair's breathing quieted, finally evened out and he slept.
After several minutes, Jim gently backed off the bed and lowered Blair's head to the pillow. Blair stirred slightly, but only long enough to pull the cat closer to his body and bury his face in the soft, fake fur.
Jim stood and motioned that they move outside.
The two men sat across from each other in the cafeteria, both with large cups of coffee in their hands.
After leaving Blair's room, Simon decided Jim needed food and coffee and ignoring his protests, he'd herded him to the elevator and down into the cafeteria.
Now, twenty minutes, two helpings of eggs and bacon, later, the two men sat quietly, letting the day catch up to them.
It was finally Simon who broke the silence.
"Tell me everything and what the hell was that "done something wrong" shit? I've never heard anything that scared me as much as listening to that.....".
"God, Simon, I don't know. But I do know this, Naomi never lifted a finger against Blair. Never. But earlier, when he first woke up, he asked how he'd been hurt this time and asked if someone named "Mickey" had been there and that Naomi had promised not to let this Mickey come back......it must be connected somehow, but I'm sure as hell not going to ask now."
Jim paused then, taking deep breaths to re-center himself, subconsciously listening to Blair's guide words, letting them wash over him, soothing him.
Then he told Simon everything he knew about Blair's condition.
".......so that's basically it. He has all of his five year old memories intact, for the most part, he's not surprised that Naomi isn't here, that he's been left with someone, but he doesn't know where here is."
"Shit."
"That sums it up. The doctor has scheduled more tests for later this afternoon and hopefully, we'll know more then."
"So this might not be permanent? Could be he wakes up tomorrow and he's our Blair again?"
"Our Blair?"
Simon smiled for the first time in days...."Okay, this is our Blair too, but you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I do."
Another pause, then, "How is......everybody?"
Simon dropped his gaze and suddenly found his coffee very interesting.
"As well as can be expected. Luis came through the surgery with his leg intact. They now believe, after a great deal of therapy, that he could make a full recovery. Sam is holding up, his sister is with them......and you know Connor, she's strong, but right now, she's keeping everything close to the chest. She and Henri are helping each other.
"Breathe Simon." Jim admonished gently.
"God, I sound like ~ Blair." Simon massaged his right temple, "Martin is staying with Peter's family right now. He's bad, Jim, so angry....".
"Yes. At Peter."
"How do you.....".
"It's how I'd feel. Mad at Blair for letting himself get killed instead of me, for protecting me instead of himself. Martin wants Peter back, wishes it had been him instead. Simple."
Simon looked hard at Jim, and realized that the detective needed to see his friends, needed to say good-bye.
"Listen, my friend. Blair's asleep, probably stay asleep for a couple of hours. Why don't I watch him while you go home, shower, shave, change and....."
"I'm not leaving."
Simon went on as if he hadn't heard him,".....and go to Mount Hope", he finished gently.
Jim's breath was expelled in a whoosh. He slid his chair back and got shakily to his feet as Simon watched.
"Thanks.....Simon.....thanks."
"Go. I'll take care of him."
Jim knelt before the final headstone. The earth was still fresh, many of the floral arrangements still in place. He'd gone to Beth's first, and had stood over it, running his finger around the stone cross, reading the simple words:
Detective Elizabeth Jenkins
1963 - 1999
wife ~ mother ~ friend
And Jim had smiled as he remembered the first time Beth had sauntered into the lockeroom, towel wrapped around her and the men, Jim included, scrappling to cover up, yelling, and then she'd dropped the towel. To reveal the black speedo underneath. She'd been one of them from that moment on.
He'd finally spotted Peter's grave.....more fresh earth. He'd almost broken down then, as he'd flashed back to Peter's first months with Major Crimes. So cocky, always in trouble, gay and open about it, challenging anyone and everyone, carrying the biggest chip Jim had seen since his own. And he'd remembered too, the joy of watching Peter woo Martin, of watching as the two men fell in love. The tears had burned behind his eyes, but didn't fall. Not until he'd gotten to Brian's final resting place.
Now, as he knelt in front of Rafe's gravestone, the tears coursed down his face, unchecked. He rested a hand on the fresh dirt and once again let his mind go back.
Back to a young man he'd bumped into while on a case, a young man with tons of questions about being a police officer. He'd finally gone to the academy, started as a beat officer, always there, always stepping forward, getting the job done, and finally making detective and joining Major Crimes......making his mark and then a Australian exchange officer came into his life, bullying, taunting and completely ensnaring the younger man.
Brian............Beth.............Peter.
Detective James Ellison had been forced to say good-bye to so many in his life and now these three good friends. He didn't know how many more good-bye's he had left in him.
Finally he stood and walked slowly back to his truck. At the last moment, hand on the door handle, he looked over the top of the truck, over the serene beauty and quietude of the cemetary, found each grave site again and whispered, "Good-bye, Beth, my friend Peter, and Good-bye Brian Rafe."
Jim climbed into the truck and made his way back to Cascade General Hospital and Blair Sandburg.
"why?"
"Well, the doctor needs to know that noggin of yours is okay."
"i know it's okay. it's hard, see?" And to illustrate, he knocked on said head.
"I know it's okay too, but let's make Dr. Nichols happy. What do you say?"
Blair screwed up his face.
"i don't want to make him happy, and dev says no."
Jim cocked his head, raised an eyebrow, then squinted at his friend.
"Blaaair......", he admonished.
The young man looked down, a little flush in his cheeks.
" 'kay. maybe dev didn't exactly say no.....", his head came up, curls flying, stubborn chin stuck out, "but he's thinking it. he is."
Jim took up residence on the edge of the bed and took Blair's hand, noting the clammy feel of it, hearing his heart race and his breathing quicken.
"How about we let Dr. Nichols run his silly tests and we do it for me?"
Puzzled, Blair asked, "for you?"
"Make me feel better? Happy?"
One lower lip stuck out and, "umph, won't make me feel better."
"Blair, the tests won't hurt."
That stubborn chin came out again.
"i know that, and don't care if they do, i told you, i'm brave."
"Oh yes, I forgot. So then, for me?"
Blair buried his face in Deva, but naturally Jim heard the mumbled, fur muffled answer, "yes."
"Thank you, Blair."
"it's okay", then he twisted his head slightly, looking suddenly very young and very shy, and not a little scared.
"won't.....hurt?"
"Promise."
"you'll stay?"
"Every step of the way."
"dev too?"
"Couldn't do without him. But I might have to hold him a couple of times. Um, think he'll let me?"
Without any preamble, Blair automatically held out the cat.
"he loves you, course he'll let you hold him. here."
Jim gently took the cat and held him against his face. The cat smelled of Blair, was warm with Blair's heat.
"see? told you so. grownups can be so silly."
Jim peered at Blair over the top of the cats head, winking one eye.
"Yeah, but let's not tell them, okay?"
Blair giggled wildly, then drew a line across his lips, "our secret."
The nurse came in then, smiling at her charge.
"Well, love, we're off for some tests. You ready?"
Blair looked at her, then at Jim, then imploringly at Deva, who immediately ended up back in his arms.
"yes."
It was a long afternoon and Jim didn't know which of them was the more exhausted, he or Blair. Jim's head and jaw were throbbing from all the clenching and unclenching and grinding of teeth.
Blair had been very quiet through most of the tests, but managed to win over every doctor, every nurse and every technician. And the younger man had kept a tight hold on both Deva and Jim's hand, which reminded him that it wasn't only his head or jaw that hurt. Blair might be five years old upstairs, but it was a strong, thirty year old grip that nearly broke his hand.
And now they were back in his room, with Blair sound asleep. Simon had shown up again and had taken one look at Jim's face and immediately went on a coffee hunt. Which left Jim, alone with his thoughts and waiting for Dr. Nichols.
Simon had only been gone a few minutes when Dr. Nichols appeared. He came to the door and motioned Jim outside. Once in the hall, Dr. Nichols introduced him to a woman, a Dr. Gail Marin. Dr. Marin was in her fifties, short, with a bobbed hair cut, gray streaks running through it. She wore a stylish, but conservative suit and immediately stuck out her hand in greeting. Jim took it, with some hesitation, all his alarms going off.
"Detective Ellison, Dr. Marin operates The Marin House."
"What's going on? The Marin House?"
Gail Marin faced Nichols, "Ben, maybe we should go to your office?"
"Yes, maybe that would be better. Detective?"
Jim nodded, but the knot of fear that had been steadily growing, reached epic proportions.
The three moved to the elevator.
"........so Dr. Marin and I agree that Marin House is the best place for Mr. Sandburg. At least until his mother can be reached."
Jim sat quietly through Dr. Nichols entire recitation, the upshot of which was that Blair was fine. Motor skills, speech, hearing, mental agility, blood work-up, heart, lungs, everything, just fine. Normal. Except he was five years old.
The results of the CAT Scan had revealed some minor swelling that still existed at the base of the skull, but that had been expected and was not a concern. Blair would need bedrest for several more days, then gradually he could increase his physical activity.
There was still one answer Jim hadn't received.
"Is it permanent?"
Dr. Nichols sighed.
"We believe so, yes."
He'd known the answer. He'd known. But he didn't believe it. Would never believe it. But now was not the time for that discussion.
"When can I take him home?"
Nichols sat forward, arms resting on his desk.
"Perhaps you didn't understand everything? Blair will never....."
"I understood perfectly. When ~ can ~ I ~ take ~him ~ home?"
Nichols was going to respond, but was interrupted by Dr. Marin.
"Detective Ellison, you are in no way capable of handling Blair. He's a child in all ways that count, a small child. He can't be left alone, you work, you're a detective. You are not prepared to take on this kind of responsibility. Do you understand that?"
"Completely. Now. When can I take him home? And let me make something perfectly clear. Blair will come home with me. I will take care of him. He will not go to some home with complete strangers. He will be protected. I will provide for him. He will have everything he needs, he will want for nothing. And he will have someone who loves him, loves him more than life, more than anything or anyone in this world or the next. Is that clear?"
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to him. And I'll assume, I can take him home tomorrow."
"Jim, you're crazy! You can't possibly believe you can handle Blair under these conditions? For God's sake, he needs care, he needs professional help."
The two men were at the loft, Jim readying it for Blair, who he'd be bringing "home" tomorrow. They'd stopped off at one of those quasi-supermarkets ~ slash~ department stores, so that Jim could pick up a few things for Blair's room.
Now they were in the bedroom, Simon ranting and Jim exchanging plaid flannel sheets for dinosaur flannel sheets. He'd already tidied up the room , removing many of Blair's books, journals, academy study material and some of his more scary artifacts. He'd completed this task in silence, lips pressed together in a straight line, knowing that he was putting one Blair away, to make room for another. And it was killing him.
Every time he'd touched a book, a police manual, dogeared, opened, highlighted, or picked up one of the many items Blair had collected over the years, his heart seemed to skip a beat, and he'd suddenly find that swallowing was impossible and that his vision was suddenly blurred.
He picked up pencils, pens, with tips chewed by an obsessive Blair, several notepads, filled with Blair's sprawling handwriting, notes on police procedure, laws, codes.......and each time, he felt a chink of his armor fall. Another breach of his defences.
But finally it was done. Sheets replaced, a jungle cat comforter covering them, but turned back in welcome for their owner. And on the desk, children's books, the type Jim hoped Blair would like, even some comic books. And toys.
Simon might be ranting and raving, but at the store he'd been essential. Helping Jim pick out the type of stuff that a bright, intelligent five year old would enjoy. That Blair would enjoy.
Jim patted the comforter, straightening it even more than it already was, taking more time than even his military training or his own anal perfectionism required. He was keeping fingers busy, hands occupied, mind focused on the mundane. But eventually, he could do more. The bed, like everything else, was ready. And Simon was still ranting. And it was time to stop him.
"Simon."
The big man paused, mid-rant, short circuited by the simple plea in the speaking of his name.
"Simon, do you really want me to leave him at that home? With strangers who don't know him? With people who don't understand him, or love him? Is that really what you would do?"
And all of Simon's arguments, all his logic, all his careful reasoning, flew right out the window. He dropped down onto the bed, legs suddenly weak.
"But ~ how, Jim? How?"
"I'll work it out. I'll need some time off, need to find the right someone who can care for him, be here when I'm not, but....it will work. And you know this is where Blair belongs. With me."
Simon could only shake his head.
"Jim, he's going to have questions, are you prepared to answer them? And what about Naomi? And how do you prepare Blair for this? For his size? For the simple daily tasks, like shaving? Shit, Jim. I just don't see it."
Ellison joined his friend on the edge of the bed, shoulders touching, taking comfort.
"Simon, according to Dr. Nichols, Blair sees himself as he was at five. And you've seen how he is? He accepts me, without question. He accepts things in this life no other five year old could ever accept. It ~ will ~ work. Trust me."
"And there's something else, Simon. Something I never mentioned before, about this Sentinel thing."
"And speaking of the Sentinel thing, Jim....how on earth...".
"Simon, will you listen? I have a spirit guide. A black jaguar. It's part of the whole Sentinel package. But do you get it? A black jaguar. Like Deva. Protecting. Keeping Blair safe."
Simon listened. And finally, understanding dawned.
"Blair picked a black jaguar to protect him ~ when he was five years old." Simon's voice held such a note of amazement and wonder.
"Yes. Do you really believe I should or could, abandon my guide?"
"No."
"No. But understand this, Simon. Guide or not, I would have Blair here. He's more than my guide, he's my other half. I love him."
"You must have him here. This is his home and you're his heart and he yours. This is right."
The two men looked at each other, small smiles of sharing a great secret on their faces. So much passed between them at that moment, not the least of which was a deep love. A love borne of comrades in arms, of a newly forged connection and of a shared goal. Protecting and carrying for their Blair.
"I'll do everything I can to help, Jim."
"I know. And Simon, thank you. You're a good friend."
Captain Simon Banks sat at his desk, trying to clear up a few details before heading over to the hospital to pick up Jim and Blair.
When he'd walked into Major Crimes earlier in the morning, he'd been immediately bombarded by questions, "How was Blair?", "When would he come home?", "Was it true, was he only five?" and "What was Jim going to do?"......
Simon had quickly realized that facts were in order and he'd spent his first thirty minutes giving as much information as he could, including the fact that yes, Jim was taking Blair home, and yes, it would be tough for the detective. He'd satisfied their needs for answers and quickly escaped into the inner sanctum of his office. That had been over two hours ago.
A knock and Joel's head appeared around the door.
"Simon? Could you join us in the briefing room? It's important."
Puzzled, Simon followed the big man next door, where most of his people lounged in chairs or perched on tables. Except Megan and Henri, who stood in front of one of the dry-erase boards.
Simon looked around the room, at each detective, then back to Connor and Brown.
"Captain", the aussie started, "we've been working very hard on a particularily difficult project, it involves us all, we've been making phone calls, getting information, soliciting volunteers.....and well, we'd like to introduce you to", she looked at Henri and together they moved aside, revealing the board and Megan finished with a flourish, "The Blairschedule!"
Flabbergasted, a good word. Summed up Simon's feelings at that moment to a tee. He finally managed to walk forward, to really look at the board, letting his eyes fly across the white surface.
It was a monthly schedule of all the detectives. It plotted out their work shifts, including Jim's and then, for a select group, who's names were in red, their "Blair shift". For each shift of Jim's, there was a corresponding shift by a name in red, with Blair. And if their shifts collided, it was taken over by one of the others on the list. Joel couldn't contain himself.
"Simon? What do you think?"
"It's no good. Erase it. The whole thing." He turned to face his people, scowling, "I'm disappointed. I'm not on the list. Fix it." And he walked out, a huge smile replacing the scowl.