Sanity

By Danae 

Disclaimer:  The characters of "The Sentinel" do not belong to
me.  I have only borrowed them for a little while and will return
them relatively intact.  This is all in fun and no harm or
infringement is intended. The characters of Brendon and Branwyn
belong to me as well as a few assorted nuts you may run across.  

This will not make any sense at all if you have not read
"Saviors" as this is a sequel. 

Thanks to Laura for her beta reading and all her help getting my
work into the light of day (Computer screen, whatever).  Thanks
also to Michelle for her encouragement.

"Sanity"
______________

"I caught him following me yesterday," Blair complained.  "Why is
he following me, Brendon?"

Dr. Brendon MacDonald smiled softly.  "Maybe he's worried," he
offered.

"Worried about what?  That I'll head out to Camp Brightsouls?  I
don't hardly think so, man.  I was just going to synagogue."

"Did you confront him about it?"

"No, He doesn't know I know.  But how could I miss that big blue
and white truck.  Besides, he didn't seem to be trying to hide. 
And he could, believe me."

"Have you talked with about your experiences at all?"

"No."

"Then he's bound to be worried and maybe subconsciously he wanted
you to see him to push the issue and start the dialogue."

"Why?"  Blair cringed as even he heard the whine in his voice.

"Blair, what happened to you was very traumatic but you are
dealing with it quite well.  We'll get to your synagogue visit in
a minute.  I did not miss that.  Anyway, what you have to realize
is that it was also very traumatic for Jim.  You said yourself
that he is very protective of you.  Believe me, I saw it too
during your deprogramming.  Jim took this very hard, Blair.  Hard
enough to risk his career and my sister's wrath.  I figured him
for a dead man when he arrested Wyn.  Now, you've thrown him for
a loop, I'm sure, with your sudden interest in going to the
synagogue after years of being a non-practicing Jew.  He doesn't
understand and you've made no efforts to help him understand."

"I don't want to talk about it.  Not with Jim."

"Why is that?"

"Because I feel *so* stupid, man!  I was just so naive.  I
thought, *I can do this.  These people can't get to me.*  But
they did, almost immediately.  I thought I knew everything.  I
didn't know *jack*, man.  It's embarrassing."

Brendon laughed.

"It's *so* not funny, man.  What are you laughing about?"  Blair
pinned his therapist with a Jim-like stare.

"I can't count the number of times I have heard a similar speech. 
I gave one of those myself once.  Wyn always says that the minute
you think they can't get to you, you're history.  They got you
already.  Still, Jim needs to know that you are truly okay.  He
is not going to take our word for it.  He needs to hear it from
you, probably many more times than you would like to say it.  In
the meantime, I want to see about getting him in here to talk to
Wyn for a few sessions and I'd like him to spend a few sessions
with us."

"Oh, no."

"Oh yes.  He needs some help with the anxiety he's feeling and
you need your privacy.  God, I wonder if he followed you and Wyn
to dinner last week.  At any rate, can't have him following you
around everywhere.  Neither of you will have much of a life that
way.  Now, let's talk about your trip to synagogue."

__________________________________________________________

Blair left Brendon's office and stood in the parking lot for a
moment.  He did not see the truck but that did not mean Jim was
not there.  He made a decision.  "Did you follow me, Jim?" he
asked aloud.  "If you did, come out, come out wherever you are. 
"Cause I don't want to play games anymore."  He waited.


"Well, hell," Jim swore.  He cranked the truck and pulled out of
the parking space in the parking garage across the street from
Brendon's office.  He tried to rehearse his explanation as he
wound his way down the levels to the ground floor exit.  As he
reached the bottom, however, he decided that a simple apology
would be best.  All of his explanations had a decidedly fatherly
sound to them.  He remembered well Blair's outburst in Simon's
office regarding Jim's fatherly intervention in his life.  *Best
not to repeat that particular scene,* he thought.  As it was, he
would be lucky if Blair accepted his apology.  Then he saw Blair
just as Blair saw him.  *Yep, very lucky.*


"Damn it!" Blair screamed and stomped his foot.  "I knew it!"  He
started pacing.  The blue and white truck pulled into the parking
lot and came to a stop beside him.  Jim got out, looking off into
the sky, refusing to meet Blair's accusing blue eyes.  "Did you
listen?" Blair demanded.

Jim looked at him then, a puzzled look on his face.

"Did you listen in on my session with Brendon, Jim?  Did you?"

"No, Blair!  Of course not."

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry, Chief."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"It's all I can say."

"I'll see you later, Jim."  Blair walked away, got into his car
and drove off without looking back, leaving Jim standing alone.

____________________________________________________

Jim's cell phone rang.  "Ellison."

"Hello, Jim.  Could you step into my office for a minute?" asked
a familiar, sultry feminine voice.

Jim looked over his shoulder at the building behind him.  "Wyn? 
How did...never mind."  Jim raised his free hand to rub his
temples.

"Come inside, Jim.  We need to talk."  She hung up.

He stared off in the direction Blair had taken. *Toward the
university,* Jim determined.  Blair did have a class that
afternoon.  Jim reluctantly gave up the notion of going to make
sure.  He got back into the truck long enough to park it legally
then went inside.  Brendon stood at the door of his office,
leaning on the frame, a satisfied smirk on his face.

*They're ganging up on me.  All three of them,* he thought
irrationally.  Brendon waved, cocked an eyebrow at him and went
back into his office and closed the door.  Jim frowned and
knocked softly on Wyn's door.

"Come on in, Jim."

He opened the door and entered.  He moved hesitantly, keeping his
eyes on anything and everything besides Wyn MacDonald.  Wyn
suddenly had an image of Jim as an errant teenager being sent to
the principal's office.  She almost laughed.  "Sit, please."

_____________________________________________________

"Why the synagogue?  Tell me that.  If he's not slipping, then
why the sudden interest in religion?"  Jim had long since
abandoned his chair.  He was pacing and gesturing as wildly as
Blair ever did.  Wyn wondered if he would appreciate the
comparison.  She loved to watch Blair talk.  

"Former cult members often feel the need to search for the
spiritual.  They need to know that there is something out there
that is good and true.  Not twisted and false.  Even fallen aways
like Blair.  And they tend to go back to their roots."

"Roots!  Blair celebrates Christmas, for Christ's sake!  Hardly
Jewish now, is he?  What roots?  Naomi never gave him roots. 
That's why he's like he is.  That's why they got him."

She smiled, despite Jim's tirade. "Culturally speaking, Blair is
Jewish.  His grandmother taught him the basic beliefs of Judaism
therefore, regardless of his love of Christmas, Judaism is
familiar.  He needs familiar.  He also needs something totally
opposed to the cult so Judaism works pretty well for him.  The
cult was primarily Christian in its beliefs.  Christ was the son
of God according to them.  The difference was that, again
according to them, God had sent Mother and Father to be his new
messengers to the modern world.  Christianity, or rather, the
rest of Christianity remained intact.  If Blair had inexplicably
converted to Protestantism or Catholicism then you might have had
a problem.  Even then, that's a might\maybe kinda thing.  Listen,
when we got Brendon out, he joined a very fundamentalist, strict
Primitive Baptist church.  We're Catholic, for heaven's sake. 
Fallen Away, mind you but Catholic and horrified all the same. 
We freaked.  But there was no need.  They pissed him off fairly
quickly and he left.  It's almost like a reflex action for them. 
I've never counseled one former cult member that didn't reach for
something spiritual to hold onto afterward.  Most get their lives
back on an even keel and return to whatever was normal for them
before the cult.  Of the others, a few are more devout but the
larger number, believe it or not, become atheists."

"So it won't last?"

"More than likely, no.  Even if it did, what is so bad about it?"

"Well, nothing as long as you're sure he's not regressing or
something."

"He's reacting as normally as any other person we have ever
counseled in a similar situation.  Just remember, like the twelve
steppers say, this too shall pass.  Now, next order of business. 
Blair's mother.  Seems to be some animosity there, Jim."

"Ah, God," Jim sighed.  "Don't get me wrong.  I like Naomi. 
Sometimes too much for Blair's comfort.  I just have to question
how she raised him sometimes.  He's so-- so, how do I put this
without it sounding bad?"

"I don't know.  I'm not sure what you are trying to say."

Jim made a face at her.  "Yes, you do.  Otherwise, you wouldn't
have made that comment about gift-wrapping him for the cult.  She
made him what he is today.  Now that's mostly good.  Better than
good but she gave them the weapons to use against him, too.  Then
I gave them the opportunity to use them.  Dear God, I'm just as
much to blame."  He more fell into than sat in his chair.

"Jim, I want to start meeting with you every Wednesday afternoon
at 5:15.  Is that a good time for you?"

"What?  I don't need-- yeah.  That will be fine."

"In the meantime, no more following Blair.  Got it?"

"Yeah, got it."

"Good.  You'll get through this."

"I know.  This too shall pass."

"Believe it or not."  She smiled.  

___________________________________________________________

Blair watched his students file out of the classroom.  He had
dismissed class a few minutes early.  His mind was not on
Anthropology 204 anyway.  He began to gather up his things when
he felt a presence in the room with him.  Thinking that one of
the students had stayed behind to ask a question, he turned with
a false but hopefully convincing smile on his face.  The smile
died quickly.

"Hello, Brother Blair."

"Hello, John.  How have you been?"  Blair greeted the man who had
been one of his tormentors.  

"I've been better, Brother Blair, and still I'm better than you."

"Don't call me Brother Blair please, John.  I'm not your brother. 
I'm not in the cult anymore."

"Church, Brother Blair.  It's a church and you are my brother. 
You have just forgotten because Satan has taken you from us." 
The man was moving closer to him and Blair backed away until he
hit a student desk and almost fell over it.  "Don't be afraid. 
I'm going to save you from Satan, Blair.  I'm going to save you
and then together we can save Mother and Father from Satan's
prison and return to our true home."

"John, Mother and Father are criminals.  They were making and
selling drugs, man."

"That's a lie!" he screamed.  Blair cringed, raising his hands up
to ward off the blow he was expecting.  Instead, John reached out
and softly touched his hair.  "It's okay, Brother.  I'm not going
to hurt you.  I just wanted you to know that your family hasn't
forgotten you.  You'll be back home soon, Blair."  John backed
out of the room and was gone.

Blair felt his knees collapse under him and he sank to the floor. 
He gasped for air and crossed his wrists over his aching chest. 
His heart felt as though it would explode.  That was how Dr.
Markham found him.

______________________________________________________

"Jim, he's... never mind," Simon gave up as Jim ran past him and
into the classroom.

"Blair!"  Jim grabbed the younger man by both arms and held him
out to look him over.  "You're okay," he said, relief flooding
his voice.  "You're okay," he repeated in an effort to reassure
his partner who was very pale and still shaking slightly.  He
pulled Blair into his arms and hugged him tight. *Let the others
in the room think what they might.*  He heard Blair's breath
catch in his throat as he sagged against Jim.  

"He said he was going to take me back.  Jim, I'm so sorry about
earlier.  I--"  The rest dissolved into tears.

"No, you were right about earlier."  *Well, maybe.*  "Chief,
nobody is going to take you anywhere."

"God, I feel so stupid."  Blair pulled himself from Jim's arms
and wiped quickly at his face to remove the evidence of his
breakdown.

"You're not stupid, Chief.  Should I call Brendon?"

"No, he's got other appointments.  I'll be fine."  He smiled but
the smile trembled.  "Can we just go home now?"

"You got it."  Jim let the anthropologist lead the way out of the
room.  Once outside in the parking lot, Jim turned to his
partner.  "I'll follow you home."

Blair gave him a strange look then burst into hysterical
laughter.  Jim realized what he had said.  He couldn't help but
chuckle.  "Just get in the car, Darwin."

______________________________________________________

Three days passed with no sign of John.  He had been identified
the second day.  His name was John Appling.  He had a rap sheet
that included solicitation, panhandling, and petty theft, the
last charge being over two years old.  Apparently, that was when
he joined the cult.  Jim closed the file and sighed.  He had
tried getting in touch with the man's parents but with no luck. 
He had even driven out to the cult camp.  No one was there.  He
had no idea where else to look.  He glanced at his watch.  He had
to go.  He was going to be late for his session with Wyn.  He
just had one thing he had to do first.  He picked up his phone
and dialed his own home number.

"Hello?"

"How's it going, Chief?"

"Gee, Jim, I just don't know if I can stand all this fun. 
Anything on your end?"

"Sorry, Blair.  Not a thing.  Let me talk to the officer there."

"You mean my babysitter?  Hold on."  

A short silence then an unfamiliar voice came on the line.  "Yes,
Detective Ellison?"

"Everything okay?"

"Sure, all quiet here."

"Good.  You were told I had an appointment, right?  I'll be a
little late and I need you to stay there for another hour or so."

"Yes sir.  I was told.  No problem."

"Thanks.  Be home as soon as I can."  Jim hung up and headed out
the door.

__________________________________________________

"Now, Jim, let's go over this again.  You blame Naomi even though
she created your best friend.  You blame Simon for giving the
order for Blair to enter the cult.  You blame yourself for not
doing more to stop it.  Who else?" Wyn prompted.

"That's about covers it actually."

"Does it now?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Hopefully, the source of your anger."

"I'm not angry."

"Then you're a better person than me, Jim.  I was furious.  My
father was furious.  Do you want to know where that anger was
directed?"

"You're going to tell me one way or the other, aren't you?"

"Brendon."

Jim was shocked.  "Brendon?  Why?"

"Why?  You tell me why.  You know why, Jim."

"How do I know?  He's your brother."

"And in a sense, Blair is your brother.  That's why you know
why."

"Damn it, Lady, you are infuriating.  Just say what you mean to
say."

"Say what you feel, Jim and maybe I will.  You're holding back. 
You won't face your feelings and until you do, your relationship
with Blair is threatened.  My father and I managed to push
Brendon away.  He didn't speak to either of us for over a year. 
Is that what you want for you and Blair?  Because if you don't
stop following him and trying to live his life for him, he will
eventually pull away."

"Let's get one thing straight right now.  If I had followed Blair
three days ago instead of wasting my time here with you, then
John Appling would have never gotten close to Blair to threaten
him.  I was right.  You were wrong.  Okay, maybe I should have
told him, been up front, but there it is."

"Jim, be realistic.  Following Blair like that made Blair feel
like you didn't trust him.  It made him uneasy.  It fed his
insecurities.  Brendon told me that it was a setback for Blair. 
It damaged his recovery.  Until Appling showed up, there was no
reason for the *clandestine protection*.  Now protection is
warranted and Blair is glad to have it.  Before, it was that his
best friend thought he was an idiot.  In addition, had you ever
seen John Appling before you got his picture over the wire?  My
guess is no.  So, how would you have known him from the students
on the campus?  How would you have known that Blair needed you?"

"I would have known." Jim stated emphatically.

"Oh, excuse me.  I'm sorry, God.  I didn't recognize you.  You
really should introduce yourself.  Now, while you're here, do you
think you could do something about all this rain we've been
getting.  It doesn't do much for my hair."

"Funny."

"Jim, you've been so quick to assign blame to everyone else while
you've put Blair up on a shelf to protect him like some priceless
doll.  Is Blair simply not responsible for himself?  Wasn't it
Blair's decision to go into that cult?  Is he too stupid to be
held responsible for his life?"

"Of course not. I-- just-- okay, yeah.  How could he be so
stupid?  How could he let those people intimidate him and torture
him and then decide to follow them.  To believe their garbage. 
How could he turn his back on me?  We're like family, me and him
and he was going to throw that away for those nut cases!  Why
don't I deserve that kind of devotion?  Do I have to torture him
to get it?  I don't understand, Wyn.  Why?  Why did he break?  He
had to know that I was doing everything I could to get him out of
there.  Damn it, he had to know!"

____________________________________________________

Blair was getting really tired of beating this guy at gin by the
time he heard Jim's key in the door.  He threw down his cards and
waited for the door to open.  "Hey Jim," he greeted the man.

Jim's keys hit the basket and he dismissed the officer quickly
and rather rudely.  He still had not spoken to Blair as the
officer quickly gathered his things and left.  As the door
closed, Jim raised his eyes to Blair's.  Blair stood silently and
met the gaze expectantly.

"How did your session go?" he asked quietly.  Blair shifted on
his feet as no answer came.  Jim just stood there, about five
feet from him and regarded him with those granite blue eyes. 
"Jim?" he squeaked and hated the weak sound.

"I'm sorry." the man finally spoke.  

"What?  Sorry for what, man?  You didn't do anything."

"Exactly, I didn't do anything.  I left you in there alone to
deal with those people and then I blamed you when you couldn't
take it.  I'm sorry, Blair."

Blair gasped.  Jim took a step forward.  Blair moved a step as
well, only backward.  Without warning, he whirled and ran into
his room and slammed the door.

____________________________________________________

"Way to go, Ellison.  Why don't you go out and get him a puppy
then run over it?" he chastised himself.  "The woman said handle
it in the office not in the home.  But you?  You know
everything."  He moved to the phone.  What was he going to say
when she answered the phone?  He didn't have long to think about
it.  She picked up on the first ring.  "I screwed up." he said.

She did not scream amazingly enough.  Although, by the time he
got off the phone, he wished she had.  He felt sorry for any kids
she might have.  Wyn MacDonald could be brutal without ever
raising her voice and somehow that made her admonishments that
much worse.  And sarcasm, the woman had turned it into an art
form.  He spared a moment from his self-pity to worry about
Blair's relationship with her.  They had only had the one dinner
date, both of them agreeing to wait until Brendon released Blair
from therapy before continuing their involvement, but he saw the
sparks whenever they came within touching distance of each other. 
Could his young partner deal with the woman's temper and sarcasm? 
Was he hovering again? *Yes.*  Back to self-pity as she reamed
him out, calmly, smoothly so that he had to look for the insults.
He wondered vaguely if it would hurt when he sat down.
_____________________________________________________

*Stupid, stupid, stupid!*  Blair's mind screamed at him.  How
could he expect Jim to trust after what he had done?  He was
useless.  He broke.  He let them do it to him.  He was worse than
useless.  He was stupid and useless.  He grew tired of pacing and
flung himself on the bed.  *I will not cry.  I will not cry.*  He
cried.  

_____________________________________________________

"Blair! Hurry up, we're going to be late for the briefing."  Jim
called to his roommate's closed door.  Blair had gotten up and
took a shower in silence. He ate breakfast in silence.  He
reentered his room in silence.  Jim was tired of the silence.  It
was unnatural for Blair to be so silent.  He had listened to the
tears the night before and felt the knife twist in his chest,
knowing that he had caused those tears.  He had wanted to try and
rephrase what he said and take away the hurt but Wyn and then 
Brendon, who called just after he got off the phone with Wyn,
told him to leave it alone lest he make it even worse. That had
been hard.  Blair would not come out for dinner.  He did not say
goodnight.  He had not said good morning and his door was closed
to Jim.  Jim began to regret putting up those doors.  Blair was
shutting him out, literally as well as figuratively and it was
not a pleasant feeling.

"I'm not going.  You go on in without me.  I'm going to stay
here." came an answer.

Jim was almost relieved.  Blair had spoken to him.  However, the
relief faded as the meaning of Blair's words penetrated the
celebratory confetti in his mind.  "What the hell do you mean
you're not coming?"  Jim stormed into the room without
invitation, violating the unspoken rule about not opening Blair's
doors when they were closed.


Blair was standing by the window.  He turned, a mixture of shock
and anger on his face.  "Just what I said."  His voice was
exceedingly calm, given his expression.

"Blair, I need you to come to the station today.  Besides, I
haven't arranged for anyone to stay with you today because you
were supposed to come with me.  Get away from the window."  Jim
reached out and grabbed him by the arm to pull him away.

Blair reacted violently, snatching his arm from Jim's grasp and
pushing Jim from him.  "Leave me alone." his voice took on a
warning tone that Jim had never heard come from his sweet natured
guide.

"I can't do that, Blair.  You're under my protection."

"Like I was inside the camp?  I called for you!  You didn't come! 
I trusted you!  Where were you?  Then you have the nerve to blame
me?"  Blair whirled on him again, pushing him toward the French
doors.  "Do you know how long I was tortured?  Do you know how
long I waited for you?  Get out!  Go away!  I'm not waiting for
you anymore!"  With the last sentence and the last shove, Jim
found himself outside the double doors with one of them heading
straight for his face.  He took an involuntary step back from it
as it slammed.

I'm sorry," he whispered to the closed door.  He turned to go.

____________________________________________

Blair waited until he heard the front door open and close and
silence descend in the loft. "I'm sorry, too."  He wondered if
Jim heard him.  He sat on his bed and fiddled with a string on
the comforter.  He hated himself for taking out his frustrations
on Jim.  He hated himself for all the things that he said.  He
hated himself for not being stronger.  Basically, he hated
himself.  He had no right to blame Jim.  Jim was right.  It was
his own fault.  His own arrogance was the reason this all had
happened.  He was stupid.  It had just hurt to hear Jim say it. 
In all fairness, Jim had not said he was stupid, but that's what
his words had meant.  He lay back on the bed.  He did not mean to
fall asleep but it seemed that he had still not caught up on all
the sleep he had missed.  

The next thing he was aware of was that the phone was ringing. 
He sat up and scrubbed at his eyes as he made his way to the
living room.  "Hello?"  He almost dropped the phone in horror.

"I told you I would save you from Satan, Brother.  It's time for
me to make good on that promise.  See you soon." 

Blair stared at the receiver in his hand.  *Oh dear God, I'm
alone.*  He slammed the receiver down and ran to the front door. 
It was locked.  Back to the phone, then.  If he called, would Jim
come?  He shook his head to dismiss the doubt he knew he should
not feel.  He was reaching for the receiver when the phone rang
again.  He let it ring a few times before answering it.  On the
fourth ring, with his heart pounding, he lifted the receiver to
his ear.

"Sandburg, I'm sending a car for you.  Be ready."  Simon's voice
was hard to hear for the sirens in the background.

"What?  Why, Simon?"

"Blair, it's Jim.  He's been shot.  He's alive but we are on
route to the hospital.  Blair?  Blair?"

Blair could not hear him.  He had dropped the phone.  *My fault,*
he thought.  *He zoned and now he's hurt.  My fault.*  Then
John's words hit him hard in the stomach and Blair doubled over
with the emotional pain as real to him as any physical pain he
had ever felt.  He ran to the bathroom and was violently ill. 
*It wasn't me,* he realized.  They had protected the wrong
target.  Jim was Satan.  John was going to save him from Satan. 
John was going to kill Jim.  He may have already succeeded.  A
siren cut through Blair's thoughts and he rose from the bathroom
floor, shakily and walked slowly on trembling legs to the front
door.

___________________________________________________

Simon Banks sat in the waiting room, a place with which he had
become intimately familiar.  He hated that but it was part
of being a cop.  It was even more a part of being CO and friend
to Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg.  He waited which he supposed
was what he was supposed to do in a waiting room.  He did not
wait gracefully.  He paced then he asked questions.  He sat then
he asked more questions.  He paced some more, more questions. 
Then he sat and he was sitting still as the last time he asked a
question the nurse at the desk nearly took his head off.  He
glanced at his watch.  Where was that unit with Sandburg?  He
wanted the young man where he could see him.  Not to mention,
Ellison needed him nearby.  Ellison would never focus on his own
well-being as long as there was a chance that Sandburg was in
danger.  Jim had been taken down by a sniper's bullet in front of
the bakery where he sometimes stopped to get doughnuts for the
squadroom.  They had no leads so until they had something
concrete, it was assumed that it was John Appling and that Blair
was next.  Where was he?  

As if Simon's thoughts conjured him up, Blair Sandburg entered
the room at a dead run.  Fifteen questions were asked before
Simon could get a word in edgewise.  "There's no word yet.  He's
in emergency surgery.  The bullet entered in the low left side of
the chest.  Too low for the heart, thank God, but it hit his
lung.  The doctors are optimistic.  They say he should be fine,"
he explained to the hysterical anthropologist.

"It was Jim all along, Simon.  John's not trying to kill me. 
He's trying to *save* me.  To do that he has to destroy Satan. 
Jim is Satan.  Jim took me from the cult.  Oh my God!  So did
you!  And Brown and Taggert and Rafe.  Oh, man, so did Brendon
and Wyn.  I'm not the target.  You guys are!  Simon, man, what
are we going to do?"

"Hold on a minute, Sandburg.  How do you know this?"

"He called just before you did and said it was time to save me
from Satan.  Minutes later, you call to tell me that Jim has been
shot.  Get it?  He thinks he's destroying Satan.  And the rest of
you are next, I just know it!" The man was on the verge of
collapsing from hyperventilation Simon realized as he guided
Blair to a chair.

"Now just calm down," Simon soothed but Blair would have none of
it.

"Man, I can't do it!  I can't lose you guys.  Jim and you and the
others because of my own stupidity.  This is all my fault, Simon. 
All my fault.  I have to stop it!"  He tried to get up but Simon
pushed him back into the chair and held him there.

"Now, you listen to me, Sandburg.  You aren't going anywhere. 
This is a police matter and you will not interfere."  Simon was
trying for his police captain's authority voice.  The one that
usually worked on the kid but not this time.

"Jim could die, Simon!"

"And so could you!  Now, you are staying right here.  You will be
here when Jim wakes up.  He'll need you."  Guilt then maybe.

It worked.  "Oh, man, you're right.  I have to stay with Jim. 
The painkillers might not work and he could easily zone out.  I
have to be here when he wakes up.  He needs me."  Blair was not
really talking to Simon anymore.  Simon knew that.  The kid was
lost in his own little world of guilt and Sentinels and cult
crazies. "I'll be here when he needs me.  I can do that," he
mumbled.  

Simon was worried.  He took out his cell phone and made a call.

______________________________________________

It was both Dr. MacDonalds who answered his call.  They arrived
just minutes after the call was made since their office was in
the medical building less that two blocks away.  Simon was
visibly relieved when the mumbling stopped.  Sandburg seemed to
be having a pretty normal conversation with the female MacDonald. 
Brendon had calmed the young man first, talking with him quietly
about what Simon did not know.  Wyn took it from there, putting
her arm around him and holding him, rocking him gently as he
cried.  The tears were dried up and the conversation was lighter
as they still waited.  Blair saw the doctor first and he was
standing in his path before the man got entirely into the room.

"Mr. Ellison came through the surgery just fine.  He will be out
for a while yet, I think.  We had to give him an extraordinary
high dosage of anesthesia to keep him out on the table.  He's in
recovery.  From there, he'll go to ICU until we are sure he's
stabilized.  He's going to be fine."  

"Thank you, doctor," Simon told him as Blair turned to Wyn and
put his head on her shoulder.  She smoothed his hair and
whispered in his ear.  Simon watched the tender scene and
congratulated himself for making the call.  

"When can I see him?" Blair asked the doctor as the man moved to
leave the room.

"Are you family?"

"I-"  Blair looked at Simon then Wyn with a pained, lost look on
his face.

"He's as close as you come." Simon stated.

"I see.  It will be a bit longer.  I'll let you know."

________________________________________________

Blair was unnaturally still as he sat staring at the man in the
hospital bed.  Wyn took in the scene and sighed before heading
into the cubicle where Jim Ellison lay connected to various
monitors and IV's and Blair kept silent vigil over him.  Just
weeks ago, she had no idea who these men were.  Now she was
inexplicably and much to her first annoyance and then amusement
drawn into their lives.  She was losing her objectivity.  She
almost laughed at that thought.  *What objectivity?* she asked
herself sarcastically.  Blair Sandburg had a way of circumventing
walls and destroying objectivity like no one she had ever
encountered.  Part of her realized Jim Ellison was probably a
better person for that ability.  She would never had placed those
two men on the same plane of existence much less in the same
apartment in a seemingly indestructible bond of friendship.  Jim
was so guarded, so rigid, so- well, anal.  And Blair?  He was
certainly none of the above, thank you very much, not in this
lifetime.  And yet, there was an undeniable connection, some
force at work that she did not understand. *Yet.*  

She let Blair acknowledge her before she touched his hair softly
and handed him a cup of tea.  He smiled at her, thanked her, took
one sip and then turned his attention back to the bed.  "He's
going to be fine, Blair.  Why don't you let me take you home so
you can get some rest?"  She leaned over his shoulder and
massaged the tense muscles of his neck. 

"I can't leave until Jim wakes up," he responded softly but
firmly.  "Besides, Simon wants me to go to a safehouse."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"No, it doesn't as long as you and Brendon and Simon and Rafe and
Brown and Taggert come with me."  Blair's voice was rising in
volume and pitch, sounding a little hysterical by the time he
ended the sentence.

"Shh, it's all right," she soothed.  

"No, it's not all right!"  He pulled away from her hands and
stood.  "I did this!  This is my fault!  I brought this nut case
into our lives!" 

"Blair, the case brought the nut case into your life.  The nut
case pulled the trigger.  Place the blame where it belongs,
Blair.  John Appling is unstable.  You had no way of knowing that
before you took the case.  You had no idea that he would snap
when the cult fell and you certainly are not responsible for his
instability.  You are not to blame for the society that allows
people as nutty as Appling access to firearms and you are not to
blame that Appling pulled the trigger.  The blame, the fault lies
with Appling."

"Yeah?  Well, that sounds real simple from your side of this, I'm
sure.  But from my side, it's my fault."

"I understand."

"God, you sound like my mother.  Only with her, it's 'I hear
that.'"  His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Wyn bit her lower lip to keep from smiling at him.  She knew it
would be misinterpreted at the moment.  "You need to discuss
these feelings with Brendon.  He's your therapist, not me."

"I know."  Blair flung himself into his chair again.  "I'm sorry,
Wyn.  I don't mean to be so..."  he sought for a word.

She supplied it.  "Difficult?"

"More like downright mean," he smiled, just a little, not a lot
but genuine and warm.

"You're upset and you're tired.  Has Captain Banks got a
safehouse ready?"  She changed the subject.

"He's working on it.  But, Wyn, he's not listening to me.  First
of all, I need to be with Jim.  Second, John isn't after me. 
He's after my friends, the people who took me from the cult. 
He's arranged for Jim to be guarded but not himself, Taggert,
Rafe or Brown.  Okay, they're cops but so is Jim.  Look what
happened to him.  And then there's you and Brendon.  If Appling
was following me, and he apparently was, then he knows about your
office.  He's probably seen you and put two and two together, you
and Sarah are the same person, etc.  Are you going to a
safehouse?  Not that I've heard."

"The good captain did mention that.  Brendon and I are
considering our options at the moment.  We may very well join
you.  That way you are safe, we are safe and your therapy is
uninterrupted."

"Oh, so practical.  I'm worried about your lives and you're
worried about my sanity."

"That's our job, Dearheart."  She shrugged and winked at him.

He laughed quietly.  "I'm still not leaving here until he wakes
up and even then Simon may have to drag me out of here.  He needs
me."

"Blair, he's a grown man and a police officer who will be guarded
by other police officers.  He'll be fine.  You, on the other
hand, could use some peace and rest and Simon can give you the
protection you need to be able to obtain that peace and rest. 
Take it, Blair."

"I'm with her, Chief," came a strained whisper from the bed.

Blair was on his feet instantly.  "Jim!"  He grabbed the older
man's hand and held on as though afraid to let go. 

"Blair, I'm--" He was not allowed to finish.

"How are you doing?  Are you in pain?  Are you having trouble
with anything?  Wyn, can you give us a minute?" 

"Chief, slow down."

"I'll be outside."  Wyn moved out of the room.

"Are any of your senses out of control?  Any zone outs?"

Jim pulled his hand out of Blair's grasp and put it over his
guide's mouth.  The effort was exhausting and the hand dropped
quickly but it had the desired effect.  Blair's questions
stopped.  "I'm doing okay.  No zone outs that I know of and
everything is pretty much under control.  A few quirks here and
there."  He smiled as best he could.  He was in pain but he knew
that Simon had told them that he was allergic to most pain
killers and that they were trying to be very careful with his
sensitive system.  Blair was quiet beside him, his eyes fixed on
Jim's hand near his on the bed.  "Blair?"

"Jim, I'm sorry about this morning."

"That's funny.  That was what I was going to say to you before I
was rudely interrupted by a million questions."

Blair rolled his eyes at him.  "What kind of quirks?"  He changed
the subject as he blushed.

___________________________________________________

"Dr. MacDonald?"  Simon Banks approached her in the waiting room.

She turned to greet him.  "Hello, Captain.  Call me Wyn, please."

"All right, Wyn.  We have the safehouse arranged.  Will you and
your brother be joining Blair?"

"I think so, Captain.  My brother feels very strongly about not
interrupting Blair's therapy right now and I suppose I am a
legitimate target for our little nut case as Blair calls him."

"What about Jim's therapy?"

She looked surprised.  "He told you?  I was under the impression
that he didn't want anyone to know."

"He told me.  He hasn't told anyone else though.  He doesn't
think people would understand."

"But you do?"

"Dr.--Wyn, they're family.  Jim's the only real stability Blair's
ever had and Jim is closer to Blair than he is his own brother. 
Who, by the way, I just remembered to call an hour ago.  He was
in Vancouver.  He's on his way back."

"You called Blair instantly even before Jim got to the hospital
and you forgot to call Jim's brother?  Interesting."

"Why do I have a feeling that I'm being interviewed for
information gathering purposes?"

Wyn flashed a dazzling smile at him.  "Tell me, Captain.  Why
have I heard Blair say several times that Jim needs him?  Needs
him in what way?  I mean obviously they mean a lot to each other
but this is more than just friends or family.  They certainly
aren't lovers so what is this connection they have?"

"Dr. MacDonald, I think that is something that you should discuss
with them."

"Uh-oh, we're back to Dr. MacDonald.  I'm sorry, Captain.  I
didn't really mean to pry.  I just thought it could be helpful to
their therapy to understand their relationship a little better. 
Am I forgiven?"

"Certainly.  We need to get going.  I'll get Blair and meet you
back here."

"I don't envy you that job."

"Gee, thanks."  The man grimaced then left her.

__________________________________________________

"I'm not going!" Blair exclaimed.  "I told you, I am not the
target.  You aren't listening.  I want, I need to stay here with
Jim.  Take Wyn and Brendon.  And you should stay there yourself
but I'm not leaving this hospital until Jim can leave with me."

"Sandburg!  You are going!  Jim, talk to this idiot, please."

"Blair, go with Simon."

"No."

"Simon, do you have your handcuffs?"  Jim asked.

"What!  Oh no, you don't!  Been there, done that, remember?"

Jim grimaced in the memory and Simon drew his hand over his face. 
"Sandburg, you aren't giving me a choice here.  I'm placing you
in protective custody and that's final.  Don't make this
unpleasant."

"Dammit!  Why won't anyone listen to me?  Am I stupid or
something and nobody told me?  He is not after me!  He's after
the people who took me out of the cult.  Jim, you, and Wyn at the
very least.  Maybe he doesn't know about the others but he's damn
sure to know about you and Wyn.  We already know that he knows
about Jim, don't we?  And Jim is a Sentinel!  And look what
happened!"

"This isn't open to negotiation, Sandburg.  You either come with
me now, willingly or you come with me now, unwillingly.  Whether
or not you come isn't the question, it's how you come.  Do you
understand?"

Blair glanced at the open door to Jim's cubicle and tried to
estimate how fast he could get through it.  It would defeat his
purpose, however, to run.  He wanted to stay with Jim.

Simon took a step that would place his body between Blair and the
door.  Jim grabbed his hand.  "Don't, Chief, please."

"For God's sake, are you people reading my mind now?"

"Chief, go with Simon.  I'll feel better knowing you're safe."

"Well, hell, I thought we'd already determined that I'm going
with Simon.  The question was how I was going," Blair snapped,
sarcastically.

Jim closed his eyes and sighed.  It was a sad sound and Blair
felt it tug at his heart.  "Let's go," he relented.

"Oh, thank god," Simon breathed.  He did not want a repeat
performance of cuffing Blair and dragging him against his will. 
It would have been too much.  A Deja vu he would really rather
not experience.  

"Thanks, Blair,"  Jim whispered.  He was tired, Blair noted and
he mentally kicked himself for being the cause of that fatigue. 
The argument had taken his energy.  Hesitantly, he touched Jim's
hand.

"I don't want to go but I will.  For you."

"I know."

"Please be safe, Jim."

"You too, buddy."

Blair squeezed Jim's hand for a brief moment then turned quickly
and left the room.

"I'll take care of him, Jim," Simon assured.

"He's a hand full, Simon, but I know you will."

"Get well.  Your guards are in place."

"Thanks."

______________________________________________________

Simon found Blair in the hallway giving orders to the nurses that
he be notified immediately if Jim's condition changed.  Simon
brought his hand down on Blair's shoulder and steered the young
man away from the nurses station.  He smiled at the nurses in
apology as he pushed Blair toward the waiting room.

"Where are Wyn and Brendon?"  Blair asked.

"Brendon had to see a patient and pick up some things at his
office and Wyn is waiting for us in the waiting room."

"You left her alone?  Simon, what were you thinking?"  Blair
sprinted away from him and burst through doors out into the
waiting room.  "Wyn?" he called.

Simon shook his head and followed, "I'm thinking that nothing
much is likely to happen in a crowded ICU waiting room," he
muttered.

"She's not here, Simon!"  Blair reappeared through the doors.

"What!"  Simon Banks rushed out and quickly scanned the room. 
Sandburg was right, Wyn MacDonald was no where in sight.  He
spotted a man he recognized as having been present when he spoke
to Wyn a few minutes before.  "Sir, did you see the young lady I
was speaking to earlier?"

"Yes, pretty girl, red hair, right?"

"Right.  Did you see where she went?"

"Sure.  A guy came in, put his arm around her and she left with
him."

"What guy?" Blair nearly screamed at the man.  "Tall, long
reddish brown hair?"  *Please, let it have been Brendon,* he
prayed.  His heart knew though even before the man answered.

"Tall, yes.  But he had short curly light brown hair."

Blair fell against a wall and slid down it, his hands moving to
cover his face.

"Is this the man?" Simon asked, producing a copy of John
Appling's file picture.

"Yes, sir.  That's him."

"Sweet Jesus."  Simon muttered.

"Yeah?  Well, I don't think he's been much of a help so far,
Simon.  Pick a different one," Blair grumbled.

Simon glared at him but made no comment as he pulled out his cell
phone.  

______________________________________________________

Units had arrived minutes after Simon's call and swarmed over the
entire hospital.  They found nothing.  Blair had called Brendon
with the news and the psychologist now sat next to Blair in the
ICU waiting room, a defeated expression on his face.  "I'm so
sorry, Brendon," Blair whispered, the defeat as clear in his
voice as it was on Brendon's face.

"It's not your fault."


"Come on, you two," Simon said, "it's time to get going to the
safehouse."

"You can't be serious."  Brendon looked at Simon incredulously. 
"I'm not going to any safehouse while my sister is missing."

"Here we go again.  Dr. MacDonald, I have already been through
this argument today with him."  Simon pointed at Blair who looked
up at him with a disgusted look on his face.  "You are going to
the safehouse.  With the two of you safe, I can concentrate on
finding your sister, Doctor.  Is that clear?"  Simon waited for a
response but got none so he continued.  "Now both of you get
moving.  I have had all I can take today."

Brendon gave Simon his patented look, the one that once convinced
Blair that Brendon was indeed Satan come to life but the older
man did not even flinch.  A moment longer he waited before giving
up the attempt and rising to his feet.  Blair got up as well and
Simon ushered them from the room.  They exited the hospital
through the cafeteria kitchen and were quickly hustled into a
van.  

"Deja vu.  Now all I need is handcuffs."  Blair remarked.

Simon flinched then.  *And Sandburg thinks I can read his mind.*

_________________________________________________

"Is Sarah your real name?"  

Wyn watched John Appling pace back and forth in front of her,
handgun in his right hand, rifle leaning against the wall well
within his reach.  She debated her options.  She could try to
pull off the "Sarah" act.  Would he buy it?  Or she could come
clean and use her knowledge and skills to deprogram the man.  It
would be the strangest deprogramming in the history of
psychology, she was sure.  The deprogrammer tied to a chair and
the "deprogrammee" brandishing a gun.

"Answer me!"

Appling's scream made her jump and brought her out of her
thoughts.  "No."

"Thought not.  Who are you?"

"My name is Dr. Branwyn MacDonald.  I'm a psychologist."

"You're a deprogrammer!" he spat.

"True."

"I should kill you right now, Sarah or whatever your name is."


"Why?  I haven't done anything to you."

"You helped them take Blair away from us.  We're his family!  And
how many others, *Sarah*?"

"Why is Blair so important to you, John?  Have you examined that? 
It's not really Blair's leaving that has upset you.  Many people
have left the cult.  This is about Mother and Father's arrest,
isn't it?"

"Shut up!"

"The arrest wasn't Blair's fault.  It wasn't my fault.  It was
Mother and Father's fault.  They knew that what they were doing
was against the law.  And not just man's law, John.  Do you think
God would be happy about his chosen messengers selling drugs."

"That's a lie!  I'm not listening to you!  You just sit there
until they come looking for you.  Then you and me and Blair,
we're going home.  Don't you worry Sarah, I'll save you from
Satan, too."

"I'm not Sarah," Wyn said calmly.

"Well, you better be or I'll have to kill you along with those
cops."  He turned then, grabbing the rifle, and strode out of the
room.

"Well, that went very well, Wyn," she whispered.

_________________________________________________

For all its luxuries, the safehouse still felt like a prison. 
Blair shifted on the couch and slumped back into the cushions. 
He knew Brendon felt the same way.  He watched as his normally
calm, cool, and collected therapist paced the floor, gnawing at
his thumb nail.  Blair had been slightly relieved to find Rafe
and Brown there.  The two men had been assigned to guard he and
Brendon so in a round about way, they were safe as well.  But Jim
was out there incapacitated in the hospital.  Wyn was missing and
Simon and Taggert were out there making targets of themselves
while trying to find her.  *This really sucks,* he thought
miserably.  "I'm going to go lie down for a while," he announced,
pushing himself upright.  Brendon only glanced at him, Brown
nodded, and Rafe saluted him.  "Get some rest, Hairboy," the man
joked.

Blair did not acknowledge the joke, however.  He was already
contemplating the window in the bedroom he was heading toward. 
Jim would have a fit.  Simon would probably kill him.  He could
get through that window with a minimum of noise.  If he turned on
the clock radio, that should drown out any accidental noise he
might make.  Jim was not there to catch him.  Of course, he
really did not have a plan and had not one clue about how to go
about getting one but he had to do something.  If he could not
stay with Jim then he would try to find John and save Wyn.  How,
he would figure out later.  No, it was not the brightest thing he
had ever done but this was his fault and he needed to fix it.

_________________________________________________

"Hey, Sandburg, dinner's here!" Brown called down the hallway
before going to the table and picking up a slice of pizza.

"Oh, damn, man," Rafe hit his arm, "I forgot about Sandburg and
the pizza thing."

"Oops."  Brown said around his mouthful of greasy dough and
pepperoni.  

"What do we do?"

Brown shrugged.  "He's taking his slow sweet time getting out
here."

"I'll go get him," Brendon offered.  They were the first words he
had spoken since their arrival.  He made his way down the hallway
and opened the bedroom door.  The bed was still made and there
was no sign of Blair.  Brendon quickly checked the bathroom and
even opened the closet before eyeing the window.  A soft chuckle
escaped first then he burst into real laughter.  The two cops
rushed into the room.

"Son of a bitch!" Rafe exclaimed.

"We're dead meat when Ellison finds out," Brown moaned.

Brendon was still laughing.

"What's so damn funny, doc?" Rafe asked.

"Why the hell didn't I think of that?" Brendon got a hold of
himself long enough to say before the laughter began again.

"Well, you won't be getting away with it now, I can tell you
that!" Brown assured him.

___________________________________________________

Simon was fuming.  Brendon was still amused when the big captain
arrived.  His officers gave him a wide berth.  "I can't believe
you let him get away!  What the hell were you doing?  You knew
you were dealing with Sandburg.  You know what he's like!  You
can't let him out of your sight!  I remember telling you that
specifically before I left here.  And what do you two do?  You
let him slip out of here apparently less than two hours later. 
In less than 12 hours, one of our own is shot, a woman is
kidnapped and another of our own slips away from protective
custody.  I tell you what, you two are telling Ellison that
Sandburg is missing.  Do you understand me?"

"Do you always feel the need to check for understanding,
captain?" Brendon asked calmly from the couch.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that you seem to always say either, 'Do you
understand' or 'Have I made myself clear' at the end of every
order.  I was just wondering."

"If I do then, Dr. MacDonald, what does that say about my, what
do you call it, psyche?  Are you just trying to irritate me?"

"No, sorry."  Brendon grinned at the man.

"Okay, what?"

"What do you mean?"

"You are grinning like a jackass eating briars, Dr. MacDonald."
Simon stated.

Brendon laughed.  "I just think it's kinda funny, Captain, that
am Anthropology student managed to escape two trained officers of
the law."

"Yeah, well, you don't know Sandburg like we do, Doctor.  I'm
going to kill him when I catch him though so you never will."

_______________________________________________

Blair got off the bus as close as possible to the house that had
served as the cult's welcome center.  He knew it and the camp had
been searched already but he did not know where else to start. 
He had wanted to go to the hospital to check on Jim but, of
course, that was a bad idea.  Jim would know that he was there if
he even stepped onto the same floor where his friend was. 
Besides, Simon would look there, probably first.  Then he would
look at the loft so no going there either.  Same thing for his
office at the University.  And his car and Jim's truck were off
limits.  APB's would be out on them.  In other words, he could
not be where John would find him because that would mean that
Simon could find him as well.  *Am I thinking like a cop?* he
wondered.  *Nope, more like a criminal.*  He grimaced at that
line of thinking.  *Nothing I can do about that now.* he decided. 
Fact was, that he would have to find John.  He had a long walk
ahead of him because the bus did not venture into the suburbs
and he resolved to make use of the time by coming up with some
legitimate plan.

_________________________________________________

Simon indeed did start at the hospital, dragging Brown and Rafe
with him and pushing them into Jim's ICU cubicle while he
searched the ward and asked questions of the nurses.  He heard
Ellison's reaction to his officer's news at the nurses station. 
*How can he yell like that with a injured lung?* he marveled as
he watched Brown and Rafe stumble over each other in their hasty
retreat.  Then he heard Jim's coughing.  A nurse pushed by him
and rushed in to check on the detective.  Simon's attention was
drawn away from the scene by a hard tap on his shoulder.  He
turned and dropped his eyes down to the tiny middle-aged nurse
behind him.

"I think it's high time you boys got out of here before you do
real damage to our patient."  The woman's green eyes scalded him
as her voice scolded.  "This is a hospital.  This is where sick
and hurt people come to get well.  Your detective is hurt. 
That's why he's here and while he is, he is not to be bothered
with police work.  His work here is to recover.  Once he has
recovered, you can have him back but not until I say so.  Any
questions?"

"No, ma'am."  Simon was properly reprimanded, much to his own
consternation.  He led the way out of the ICU ward, shaking his
head.  Once the doors closed behind him, he muttered, "I have
just been kicked out of this hospital by a Chihuahua in a nurse's
uniform.  I'm going to kill you, Sandburg."  *If Appling doesn't
beat me to it.* came the unbidden and unwelcome thought.

________________________________________________

Blair was no closer to devising a plan beyond the unacceptable,
"Hi, John, I'm home!" when he arrived at the house than he had
been when he slipped out of the safehouse window.  Given that, he
supposed that it was a good thing that the house was empty.  He
sat down on the steps and ran his hands through his unruly curls
trying to calm them.  The wind was up and had played havoc with
the long locks.  He spared a moment to wish for a band to tie it
back then went back to contemplating his next move.  It was dark
and he was tired but he knew he could not stay still for long. 
Simon would be searching.  

"Where are you, you loony tune?" he asked aloud.  "The camp? 
God, you could be anywhere!  If you have hurt Wyn, I'll... What
will I do?  Jim, I really need you and it's my fault you're not
here.  Guess I'm on my own then, huh?"  He paused, sighing sadly
and kicked at the walkway under his feet.  "Can't walk to the
camp.  I'll have to get a car.  I have to borrow a car."  He went
through a mental list of his friends.  He struck all the few
people from the station obviously, then all the friends that
either Jim or Simon had met.  Of the remaining names, a few did
not have cars or their cars were even more unreliable than his
own.  That left most notably Mike Phillips from the History
department.  *Perfect!*  Mike was a great guy.  Now all Blair had
to do was manage to get on campus, find Mike and his car, and get
off again without being caught by Simon or any other person with
a badge.  *Tomorrow.* Blair thought as he frowned into the
darkness that had descended on him.  Tonight, he needed a place
to crash.  It would help if he knew where Mike lived but he did
not.  In addition, he had about seven dollars and some change on
him and his ATM card was in his backpack on his dresser at the
loft.  He had not been thinking about anything but getting to Jim
that morning.  He was surprised that he had thought to grab his
wallet at all so he was lucky to even have the seven bucks. 
*Damn, I didn't plan this out at all!* he berated himself.  Maybe
Cindy would let him crash on her couch.  *Then she can kill me in
my sleep,* he thought angrily.  Cindy, his last failed
relationship before his adventure in the cult, had not been very
understanding when Blair stood her up not once but twice to be
with Jim on stakeouts.  The last time, he had even forgotten to
call her and she had come to his office the next day and slapped
his face in front of one of his students.  *Not a pretty scene.* 
However, neither Jim nor Simon knew Cindy's last name or address. 
It was his best option in an emergency and this was an emergency. 
He drew his shoulders up and stood resolutely.  Maybe he was
finally getting a plan together.  He started for the nearest bus
stop.  "I can do this.  I can do this."  he repeated over and
over.
 
________________________________________________

Jim Ellison was not sleeping.  He could not possibly sleep
knowing Blair was out there alone trying to find and deal with a
lunatic.  He shifted gingerly on the bed. He could not decide who
he was most angry with, Blair or Brown and Rafe.  Blair, well,
Blair was Blair and he was impulsive and stubborn.  Jim knew that
he blamed himself for this turn of events in their lives.  This
guilt on top of Blair's fragile self-image due to his experience
with the cult and the insecurities he already harbored had to be
unbearable for his sensitive partner.  Jim could have seen
Blair's escape from custody coming a mile off.  He grinned at
that.  *Well, of course, I could.  I'm a Sentinel and Blair
taught me how.*  "Damn, Chief, where are you?  What are you
doing?  What are you thinking?"  Jim sighed.  Brown and Rafe
should have been paying attention.  They underestimated Blair. 
Blair was too resourceful and creative to be underestimated.  Jim
knew that.  Apparently, his fellow officers had not learned that
lesson.  Speaking of paying attention, however, none of them
would be in this mess at all if *he* had been paying attention
and using what Blair had taught him.  He had been so wrapped up
in thoughts of his and Blair's argument that he never heard or
saw a thing before he felt the bullet pierce his side.  He shook
his head.  He needed to get out of the hospital and go find
Blair.  Blair needed him and he was useless due to his own
stupidity and inattention.  "Sorry, Chief.  I should be there for
you.  I should have been there for you in the cult, too and damn
the consequences."

"Mr. Ellison, you should be sleeping not talking to yourself,"
said the diminutive, salt-and-pepper haired nurse that entered
his little corner of the ICU ward.  "Now, I don't know which
consequences you were talking about but let me assure you that
you don't want to face the consequences of making me angry."

Jim smiled.  This had to be Simon's Chihuahua.  He had heard
Simon's grumbled remark as he left.  He had heard her
admonishments to his captain as well and the voice was right.  

She went about checking his vitals and his IV silently.  "There
now," she said in her soft Southern accent, reminiscent of Wyn's
Jim realized.  "The doctor is going to put you in a room tomorrow
but until then you are my patient and as such I expect you to get
some rest.  No police business.  Your guards know they are not
allowed inside this cubicle and I got rid of those other three
earlier.  You need to sleep.  I understand that you are very
allergic so if you don't follow instructions and sleep
voluntarily, I'll just bypass the medicine route and whack you in
the head.  You'll sleep then, I guarantee.  Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."  Jim found himself tempted to salute and realized
why.  She was former military.  Had to be.  "What branch?" he
asked, without really meaning to.  

She glared at him then a sweet smile replaced the glare.  "Air
Force, Vietnam.  And you?"

"Army, Rangers.  Various places."

"None of which you can talk about, I gather."

Jim raised his eyebrows and gave a little shrug.

"Get some sleep, soldier.  That's an order."  She shook her
finger at him then she actually cuffed him on the head in a
manner very familiar to him.  He did the same thing to Blair all
the time.  She left and Jim did close his eyes but sleep never
came.  Only thoughts of Blair.

____________________________________________________

Cindy did not kill him.  He awoke and rose slowly from her couch. 
He glanced at the bedroom door she had slammed behind her the
night before.  He had explained his situation to her and begged,
using every one of the weapons at his disposal to get her to let
him sleep on her couch.  He would have liked to think that his
charm had won her over but in fact, it had almost got him thrown
out on his ass.  Pity had worked.  Not that she was happy about
it or anything.  As a matter of fact, it seemed to make her very
angry that he could make her feel sorry for him.  She had thrown
a pillow and blanket at him and stormed into her bedroom,
slamming the door.  He even heard the door lock. He frowned.  He
debated whether or not he should announce that he was leaving or
write her a thank you note and slip out.  He opted for the note. 
He really did not want to hear her scream at him any more. 
*Wimp,* he called himself while he wrote the note.  A few minutes
later, he was boarding a bus.  It was a relatively short ride
during which he tried to smooth his hair and straighten his
clothes.  People were staring at him.  *Either I look really bad
or Simon's got my picture plastered on the news or something. 
No, he wouldn't do that.  It would give John too much
information.  So I look really bad.  Great.*

He scanned the area around the University bus stop for uniforms
or cars with fun, flashing blue lights before he got off the bus
and headed straight for Mike's office.  He kept his head down and
moved quickly.  He entered through the back of the History
building and knocked on the second door he came to.

"Come on in."

Blair opened the door and quickly shut it behind him.  "Hi, Mike. 
I'm in some trouble," he blurted out.

"Hello to you too, Blair.  What kind of trouble, Dude?"  A very
large, very blonde young man looked up from his filing cabinet at
his obviously nervous friend.

"I need to borrow your car."

"Will it be used in the perpetration of a crime, my friend?"

"NO!  Of course not."

"Then it's yours, man.  What's up?  Anything I can help with?"

"If anybody asks, you haven't seen me.  That is unless I don't
bring your car back in a few hours.  Give me four hours tops. 
Then if I'm not back, call Captain Simon Banks, Major Crimes,
Cascade PD."

"Excuse me?  Blair, what the hell is going on?  I thought this
wasn't illegal.  What have you gotten yourself into?" Mike
Phillips dropped the file folder he was holding onto the cabinet
and came around to talk to Blair face to face.

"It isn't illegal, Mike, I swear.  I'm trying to fix something I
messed up.  That's all.  I work with the cops, remember?  For my
dissertation?"

"Then why haven't I seen you if they come asking?"

"I escaped protective custody," Blair mumbled.

"What?"  Mike leaned toward Blair to better his chances of
actually hearing the quiet words.

"I escaped protective custody."


"Okay, that's it!  What is going on, Blair?  Is there somebody I
need to beat up or something?  Do you need me to come with you?"

"No, man, I'm okay.  The whole problem is that I can't make Simon
believe that I'm not in danger.  He is and some of my other
friends along with him.  I can fix it but I need a car.  I can't
use mine cause Simon will grab me the minute I get close to it. 
Look, man, I really need to get going.  I can't stay here.  I
took a big risk coming in the first place.  I promise I will
explain the whole thing to you later."

Mike frowned but he motioned to his desk. "The keys are on the
desk, dude.  Be careful.  If you need me, call."

"Thanks."

"Later?"

"I promise."  He caught sight of something else on the desk as he
grabbed the keys.  He picked up the baseball cap.  "Hey, Mike,
can I borrow this, too?"

"Yeah, you are looking a little shaggy today.  Be my guest."

"Gee, thanks."  Blair grinned.  Mike shrugged and went back to
his filing.  "Bye."  Blair was gone before Mike could respond.

Blair gathered up his long curls and stuffed them in the cap as
he left the building and quickly located Mike's car in the
parking lot.  He was about to put the key in the door when he
felt the touch at his back.  He swallowed hard and turned slowly. 

"I knew you'd come back here sooner or later, Brother Blair."

Blair glanced down at the gun pointed at his chest.  "Hi, John. 
I've been looking for you."  He tried to sound happy and
confident but he could hear the tremble in his voice.

"You were?"  John seemed at once to be hopeful and skeptical.

"Yeah, man.  Geez, man, put the gun away before you attract
attention.  The cops are looking for us both, you know."  Blair
was relieved to see the gun disappear into John's jacket.  "I
went to the house and you weren't there and I was on my way to
the camp."

"Really?"  Less skepticism, more hope this time.

"Yeah.  Look, we have to get out of sight.  Let's go to your
place.  Okay?"

"Yeah, okay.  Sarah's waiting for us there.  That's a good idea."

Blair almost fainted from relief at that news.  "Sarah?  Is she
okay?"

"Her soul's in trouble, Brother Blair.  She's a deprogrammer. 
You and me, we'll fix her through.  We can save her."

"Then that's what we'll do, John."

"Well, let's go then!"  John grabbed his arm and pulled him away
from Mike's car toward an old beat-up blue Chevy.  "Get in."

_______________________________________________

Mike Phillips rushed out of his office and down the hall.  He
forgot to tell Blair that his emergency brake did not work so he
would need to be sure to park the stick shift in gear.  He got to
the parking lot in time to see the tall, curly-headed stranger
pull Blair toward another car.  Puzzled, he yelled out to him. 
"Hey, Blair?"

Blair looked up at him with the oddest look on his face.

"Get in the car, Brother Blair!" the other ordered.

"Hold on a damn minute!"  Mike ran toward them but Blair simply
put something down on the ground and got in the car.  The car was
pulling out of the parking space by the time Mike got there. 
Mike stood by helpless as the car sped away.  On the ground,
where Blair had put them, he found his car keys.  Something told
him that the four hour rule had just been suspended.  "Simon
Banks, Major Crimes, Cascade PD," he said aloud to remind
himself.

___________________________________________________

"Banks."  Simon listened as the young grad student relayed his
story.  He quickly took down the description of the car, the
license plate number and the direction that the car had turned
when leaving the University.  The man made a good witness. He had
even remembered what both Sandburg and Appling had been wearing. 
Simon did not even remember what Blair had on at the hospital.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Phillips.  You've been a great help."
He hung up.  At least now, they had a lead.  It would be like
finding a needle in a haystack but it was better than no leads at
all.

_______________________________________________________

No sooner did the orderlies and the nurse leave Jim's new private
room than Jim had the phone receiver to his ear.  "Banks."  was
his curt greeting.

"Simon, it's Jim.  Anything on Blair?"

"We have a lead, Jim.  How did you get a phone?  You're not out
of bed, are you?"

"No, Simon.  I've been moved into a room.  What kind of lead?"

"He was seen getting into a car on the University grounds.  We
have the license plate number.  There's an APB out now."

Jim listened not to just his captain's words but to his
heartbeat.  "Simon, there's something you aren't telling me.  The
human lie detector, remember?  I can sense half truths, too." 
*Unfair, untrue, but necessary,* he told himself.  It had the
desired effect.  Simon's heart rate did indeed increase.  Jim
knew then his hunch was correct.  "What is it?"

"Jim, you are in no position or shape to do anything about
anything I might tell you so why don't you just focus on getting
better and let me take care of Sandburg."

"Simon, please, I have to know."

Simon sighed heavily.  "He got into the car with Appling, Jim."

"Appling has Blair?  Is that what you said?"

"Yes."

"Dear God, help me," Jim pleaded.  He hung up even as Simon
continued to try to talk to him.  He pictured the dial in his
mind that controlled his sense of touch and turned it all the way
down.  Blair had always warned him not to do that.  Pain is an
indication that something is wrong, his guide would say.  If you
turn it all the way down and ignore it, you are bound to do more
damage, Blair always warned.  But Jim did not have time for the
pain at the moment.  He had to find his guide so that the young
man could continue to give him warnings of just that kind until
both of them were old and gray.  Carefully, slowly, he rose from
the bed.  The pain was not completely erased but it was only a
minor ache.  Still, Jim was mindful of his stitches and was
determined not to pull them loose.  He urged himself to keep
control of the pain and yet still remember that it and its
accompanying injury were still there.  He made his way to the
closet were he had seen the nurse place his clothes.  They were
the same clothes he had been wearing when he was shot, still
bloodstained and with a nice bullet hole in the shirt.  The
jacket did not show the blood that much, though and the pants
were fine for the most part.  Getting dressed was going to be
hard but sitting there while Appling had his partner was harder. 
He put the clothes over a chair and moved to the door of his
room.  There was only one guard at the moment.  He opened the
door.  A very startled uniformed officer stood quickly and faced
him.  

"Detective, you should be in bed."

"Where's your partner?"  Jim asked.

"In the restroom, sir."

"Look," Jim looked at the man's name on his badge, "Davis, I
really need a blanket and I don't think the call button is
working in here.  Could you go down to the nurse's station and
tell them please?"

"I should wait for Bill to get back." The young officer shook his
head.  

"No need for that.  I'm sure he'll be back before long and you'll
be right down the hall.  Go, I need that blanket and I need to
find out if the call button works."

Davis looked skeptical but one look into Ellison's ice blue gaze
got him moving.  "Yes, sir. But please get back in bed."

"No problem."  Jim closed the door and stripped off the hospital
gown.  As quickly as he could without further injuring himself,
he pulled on his clothes and slipped out the door and down the
hallway away from the nurse's station.  He hated to do it.  Davis
and his partner would probably catch hell from Simon but Jim just
could not sit this out.

_______________________________________________________

*So much for plans,* Blair thought sourly as he followed John
into the condemned house only blocks from the University.  *I
would have never found him here. Most crazy people at least have
the decency to be predictable.  Even Lash.  Apparently not John. 
Oh, and evidently, my mouth decided to go with the "Hi, John, I'm
home," approach while my mind was busy sifting through the other
crap that I was calling plans.*  His mental tirade ended abruptly
when he caught sight of Wyn.  "W--Sarah!" he rushed forward and
knelt beside the chair she was tied to.  "Are you all right?" he
asked as his hands moved to untie her.

"I'm fine.  What are you doing here?  Why aren't you at the
safehouse?"

"Leave her tied up, Brother Blair.  She's been possessed by
Satan," Appling ordered.

Blair stood, "John, look, I'm back.  Satan doesn't have me.  Just
let her go."

"I can't do that, Brother Blair.  We have to help her.  You said
we would help her.  Besides, there are still some things I have
to do.  I have to finish what I started with those men who took
you from your family.  That first one is still alive and I have
to find that police captain."

"No!  John, listen to me.  Just leave them alone.  If you leave
them alone, I'll help you get Mother and Father out of jail."

"And Matthew and Joshua?"

"Matthew?"  Blair felt his chest tighten at the mere mention of
the man's name.  

"John, Matthew tortured Blair.  Do you understand that?  He hurt
Blair."  Wyn spoke.

"Liar!  Matthew would never do that!  You shut up!"  John pulled
the gun out of his jacket and raised it.

"No!"  Blair stepped between the gun and Wyn.  

"Move, Blair," Appling instructed.

"I thought you said that you wanted to help her, John.  Come on,
man, please, don't do this."

"Satan has a strong hold on her.  Maybe it's best if we just end
her suffering, Brother Blair."

"No.  If you do this, you better go ahead and shoot me, too,"
Blair told the man.

"Why?"  Appling shook his head and dropped the hand holding the
gun to his side.  "Okay, okay, we'll do it your way.  But you
better tell her to stop lying about Mother and Father and
Matthew." He spun on his heel and stormed out of the room.

"I will."  Blair assured.  He turned then to face Wyn who was
frowning.  

"May I assume that the cops are on the way?"

"No," he answered.

"Does anyone know where you are?"

"No."

"Perfect.  Are you going to untie me or what?"

Blair smiled apologetically and moved back to her side and began
to remove the ropes holding her to the chair.  "Some savior I am,
huh?"

"Really bad choice of words there, don't ya think?  At any rate,
what the hell is going on?"

Blair related his story to her as they moved to sit on the floor
along the wall.  At the end of it, she was shaking her head
slowly and chuckling softly.  "Blair, Baby, you are a piece of
work, do you know that?"

Blair was not exactly sure *how* she meant that so he simply
shrugged and looked at his shoes.  

She shifted in her position so that she sat in front of him.  She
leaned forward and used one hand to pull his head forward to meet
hers halfway until their foreheads touched.  "My hero," she
whispered.

"Yeah, right."

"Well, almost and the day's not over yet."  She laughed and Blair
found himself smiling.

____________________________________________________

Jim was relieved to find his cellphone still in his jacket pocket
and his wallet in his pants pocket. Even his gun was there, which
was a pleasant surprise.  He used the phone to call the station
and ask Rhonda for the name of the witness who had seen Blair and
used the money in the wallet to get a cab to the University.  He
needed to talk to Mike Phillips.  Very slowly, he had his way
across the grounds to the history building.  Once inside, he
stopped the first person he saw and asked for the location of
Phillips' office.  It was not hard to find.  He knocked on the
door.

The door flew open almost instantly.  "Blair?  Oh, no, sorry.  I
was hoping, well I was expecting..., anyway, can I help you?"

"I hope so.  I'm looking for Blair.  I'm his roommate, Jim
Ellison."

"The cop?  Man, I heard you were in the hospital and by the looks
of you, you should be.  Dude, come in and sit down.  I've already
told Captain Banks everything I could."

"Well, you see, Captain Banks didn't tell me."

"Because you're supposed to be in the hospital, right?"

"Yeah.  Please, Mr. Phillips, I need your help to find Blair."

Jim took in the young man's story.  "Show me where the car was in
the parking lot," Jim instructed.  He rose from the chair
cautiously but not cautiously enough and a twinge of pain escaped
his tight controls and caused him to gasp and sit heavily back
into the chair.

"Dude, you okay?"  Phillips was suddenly beside him.  

"Help me up."

"Man, I should be helping you down into a nice soft bed for a
nice long rest," Phillips remarked but he did move to help Jim
stand.  The young man stayed very close to Jim as they left the
office and headed out to the parking lot as if he planned to
catch Jim if he fell.  Jim could not help but feel grateful to
the young man, not just for his obvious concern for Jim.  After
all, if Mike Phillips was like this with Jim, a virtual stranger,
then how must he be with his friends, of which Blair was one. 
The man had tried to help Blair and had given them their only
lead.  Blair had a good friend in Phillips.  "The car was right
there."  The voice cut into his thoughts.

"And which way did it turn out of the parking lot?"

"Right."

Jim focused on the parking space.  There was a small puddle of--
what?  Using Phillips' arm as a brace, Jim stooped down and
touched it.  "Transmission fluid," he announced.  "A car that was
parked here was leaking transmission fluid."

"Could be any car and not like you could track it or anything."

"True." *Unless you're a Sentinel.* Jim stood, groaning a little
with the effort.  Phillips immediately supported him.  "May I
borrow your car?  There's a hunch I'd like to follow."

"Sure."  Mike dug the keys out of his jeans pocket.  "Emergency
brake doesn't work.  Park it in gear."  He put the keys in Jim's
hand.  "Do I give you four hours then call Banks?"

Jim half-smiled but his attention was on the pavement stretching
in front of him and the minute trail of transmission fluid that
led to the exit of the parking lot and to the right.  It was a
very long shot but it was all he had.

____________________________________________________

Simon could not believe his luck or Appling's stupidity.  The car
had been spotted parked only five blocks from the University in
front of an abandoned and condemned house.  The big man ran to
his car shouting instructions into the cell phone as he did.  No
lights, no sirens and wait, he instructed.  Taggert joined him
and the two men buckled up.  Simon's cell phone rang just as he
turned the key in the ignition.  "Banks!" he snapped.  He
listened to the voice on the other end.  "What!  How the hell did
that happen?  How long ago?"  Another pause for the answer. 
"Damn it!" he screamed and tossed the phone into the backseat. 
He put his head on the steering wheel.  "They're trying to kill
me." he muttered.

"What is it?" Taggert asked.

"That damn hard-headed Ellison left the damn hospital!  Between
Sandburg and him, I'm going to have a heart attack or a stroke
before the sun goes down tonight.  When I do, you arrest them,
you hear me, because they killed me.  Sure as a bullet."  Simon
slammed the car into gear and sped out of the parking garage.

____________________________________________

Blair stood as John came back into the room.  He moved quickly to
use his body as a shield for Wyn.  

"Did you talk to her?"  Appling asked using the gun to point
around Blair in Wyn's direction.

"Yes.  She's going to help us, aren't you, Sarah?"

Wyn looked up from her vantage point on the floor to stare at the
ceiling.  "I suppose I am.  The alternative doesn't seem
particularly attractive."

"Look, John, why don't you put the gun down.  We're all friends
here now."

"I can't do that, Blair.  I'm not sure we can trust her yet. 
Matter of fact, I'm not sure that I can trust you yet.  You seem
awfully attached to those cops, Brother.  You know, you have to
leave your former life behind.  If you don't Satan will always
have influence over you."

Blair sighed then took a step closer to the man.  "Satan isn't
influencing me, man.  I just don't want anyone else to get hurt. 
John, you need to get some help.  You're not thinking clearly. 
What you've done is against the law.  You shot a police officer,
man.  You kidnapped W--Sarah.  You need to be thinking of getting
out of here, not holding her here and shooting more cops.  Just
let her go and I'll come with you.  I've worked with the cops.  I
know how they think.  I can help you escape.  We can go somewhere
and set up a new camp.  The others can join us there and we can
try to get Mother and Father free.  But if you get caught here,
then we can't do any of these things."

"Blair, what the hell are you saying?  Stop that.  You aren't
leaving here with him without me and that's final."  Wyn snapped.

"Wyn, hush."

"Her name is not Wyn!"  Appling screeched.  "That is Sarah!  You
call her that other name one more time and I'll shoot you both! 
I swear I will."

"Okay, sorry, sorry.  Come on, John.  Please, for me, let her go. 
I don't want her here."

"Blair, I'm going to kill you," Wyn murmured in his ear.


"Shut up.  I'm trying to be your hero here." he whispered back to
her as Appling seemed to consider what Blair had said.  Blair
turned his attention back to John.  "You said it yourself.  You
can't trust her.  I don't trust her either, man.  We just need to
get out of here and she'll slow us down."

"Then I should kill her."

"Thank you, Sir Blair." Wyn muttered.

"NO!  John, you want to bring down the whole Cascade police
department on our heads?  Nobody's dead yet.  No murder charges. 
If you kill her, they won't stop until they destroy us.  If they
destroy us, who will help Mother and Father?  Who will save the
church, John?"

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense, I guess.  Our priority has to be
Mother and Father and the church."  John began to pace, thinking
while he scratched his head with the barrel of his pistol.

"Exactly."  Blair turned to face Wyn. "I think it's going to
work."

"Blair, I don't want to leave you here with him."

"Please, don't argue.  If he lets you go, go.  Find Simon.  I
think I can keep him under control long enough for you to get
help.  I'm not doing too badly, right?  I did minor in psych, you
know."

Wyn gave him a sad little chuckle at that.  "No, you're not doing
too badly but you can't keep up this charade very long."

"I won't have to.  You find the nearest phone and call 911 and
have them patch you through to Simon.  I'll keep him here long
enough for the cavalry to arrive."

"Then you're a hostage."

"I can take care of myself."

"Funny.  That's what I told Jim and now I find myself just as
reluctant as he to let go and let you do just that.  What is it
about you, Blair Sandburg?  I just want to take you home and keep
you.  How'd you make me want to do that so fast?"

Blair did not get a chance to answer.  "Okay!  She needs to leave
now."

_____________________________________________________

Jim could not believe his luck or Appling's stupidity.  He
spotted the car parked only five blocks from the University in
front of a condemned house.  He extended his hearing and picked
up his partner's voice. "I can take care of myself," Blair told
someone.  Wyn's voice answered.  *Good, they're both alive.*  He
pulled up to the curb two houses away and got out of Phillip's
car.  As he did he saw the patrol cars pull onto the street ahead
of him, followed closely by Simon's car.  The patrol cars
positioned themselves on the street to block any escape.  Jim
watched as Simon parked his car and he and Taggert got out.  He
knew Simon saw him and had proof of it when he heard a soft
whisper.  

"Ellison, you are in so much trouble.  When I get through with
you, that gunshot wound will be the least of your worries."

He did not get the opportunity to defend himself at that moment,
however.  The door of the house opened and the attention of every
officer was instantly directed on that door.  Guns at the ready,
they waited.  Jim held his breath as he took cover behind the
closest car.  He focused on the darkened portal.  He saw her
before the other officers.  Wyn MacDonald stepped reluctantly out
of the house, looking back over her shoulder.  Jim heard her gasp
as she turned to face the street and saw them waiting there.  Jim
stood, biting back a gasp of his own at the pain the motion
caused him.  He intended to get to her and pull her out of the
way but his injury made him slow and Simon beat him to her.  He
let his captain pull the doctor to his vehicle and heard him
order the woman to stay put.  She immediately began to explain
the situation inside.  Jim moved to join them.

"Blair is trying to stall him and keep him calm until you get
here but of course, you're here already, so do something," she
insisted.  "Damn, he's going to use Blair as a hostage, I just
know it!"

"Dr. MacDonald, we going to do whatever we can, okay?  Just stay
back and let us handle this."  Simon turned to face Jim.  He
grabbed his arm and led him away from the woman.  "What the hell
are you doing here?"

"Simon, I--"

"Save it.  What can you hear?"

"Blair's talking to the guy about getting across the border. 
Appling isn't saying much of anything except mumbling about going
home and saving the church.  Simon, I'm going around back.  You
get Appling's attention and I'll take him down."

"Jim, in case you have forgotten, you had emergency surgery
yesterday morning to remove a bullet lodged next to your lung. 
You should be in the hospital not going around back and taking
somebody down."

"Simon,--"  Jim paused and held up his hand.  Something was
happening inside.

____________________________________________________

"Blair!  There are cops outside!" Appling grabbed the rifle and
headed back toward the front window.  

Blair stared at the pistol the man had put down in favor of the
rifle. He swallowed and took a step toward it.  He jumped when
John turned back to look at him.  "John, put the rifle down, man. 
It's over."

"No, Brother, it can't be over.  We have to save the church.  We
just have to come up with a plan to get out of here.  We should
have never let Sarah go.  She could have been a hostage.  What do
we do?"

"Surrender."

"NO!" the man screamed and Blair flinched back.  He stared at
Blair then, suspicion narrowing his eyes. "You did this!  Didn't
you?  The cops followed you.  Are you wearing one of those
wires?" John stormed toward him and Blair tried to back away. 
"Stand still!" he ordered as he leveled the rifle at Blair. "Or
I'll shoot you right now!"  

Blair did as he was told.  John lowered the rifle and crossed the
remaining distance to him.  "John, man, I'm not wired.  I didn't
lead them here.  I swear." He stood very still while John's hands
roamed over his body searching for evidence of betrayal.  

___________________________________________________

"Simon, I have got to get in there.  He's turned on Blair. 
Please, sir."

"Jim, the answer is no."  Banks turned and grabbed the bull horn
out of a uniformed officer's hand.  He stood.  "This is Captain
Banks, Cascade Police.  Appling, it's over, son.  Give it up and
come on out of there."

Jim took his chance.  Silently, he moved around Simon and past
Wyn who glared at him like he was as certifiable as Appling but
said nothing.  He slipped past all the cars and circled around
the house next to his target.  He listened carefully.  Blair was
pleading with Appling not to fire at the officers out front.  

"If you shoot at police officers, they shoot back and you usually
end up dead!" Jim heard Blair exclaim.  *That's it, Blair. Keep
talking.*  Jim urged wordlessly.  He had two reasons.  First, he
was using his partner's voice to pinpoint him inside the house
and secondly, as long as Appling was busy talking to or listening
to Blair, he was not killing anybody.  

_____________________________________________________

"Jim, can you see anything?" Simon asked quietly as he lowered
himself to the cover of the car.  He received no answer.  "Jim?"
He turned.  "Jim?"  Dr. MacDonald pointed at the house and Simon
understood.  "Son of a bitch!" Simon exploded.  "Why the hell
didn't you stop him or say something?"

"You said to let you handle this.  I'm following instructions."

"Damn it, Lady!"  Simon wanted to say more but he bit his tongue. 
The woman was infuriating just like Sandburg or just like
Ellison.  He could not decide which.  Then it came to him.  She
was a mixture of the two.  That was it.  He would have liked to
contemplate the revelation longer but he turned his attention
back to the matter at hand.  It would have to wait.  "Just be
careful, Jim." he whispered.

___________________________________________________

Blair watched John as the man stood poised at the window, rifle
against his shoulder.  Blair said a short prayer and let his eyes
shift to the discarded pistol.  Luckily, John was easily
convinced of Blair's loyalty after he had failed to discover a
wire and the pistol remained an option.  Not an option Blair
liked very much but an option all the same.  Maybe, just maybe he
could end this stand off without blood shed.  Of course, that
would depend on whether or not he could make John believe that he
would shoot him.  *Man, I hate guns.* he lamented.  *Just get the
thing and sneak up behind him and point it at him and tell him to
put down the rifle.*   He mentally took himself through the
steps.  He took a step, then another.  He watched John while his
hand reached and touched the gun.  He sighed in resignation as
his hand closed around the grip.  He took a step, then another. 
He could hear John muttering about saving Mother and Father and
the church as he crept toward the man.  *Just one more step.*

"Brother Blair?"  John turned and Blair's heart dropped. 
Disbelief was chased by fury on Appling's face and before Blair
could take any protective measures, the rifle swung and caught
him across the face.  He fell hard and shook his head as stars
exploded in his field of vision.  Through the tiny novas he saw
John advancing on him and he tried to scoot away.  "Traitor!"

"No, John, don't."  Blair hit the wall and knew he was cornered.

_________________________________________________________

Jim slipped through a broken window at the back of the house,
managing to cut his hand on a piece of glass.  He did not feel
it, his sense of touch still dialed all the way down.  He only
saw the blood.  His ears were still trained on the two men in the
front of the house.  It had been pretty quiet for the past few
minutes, only the insane mumblings of Appling and some shuffling
registering in his enhanced hearing.  Then he heard the question.

"Brother Blair?"  And the impact and the angry scream. 
"Traitor!"

And, "No, John, don't."  Jim hurried his steps.

_____________________________________________

Blair held up his hands in entreaty and saw that he still had the
pistol.  *I can't believe I didn't drop it.*  the crazy, fleeting
thought almost caused him to laugh out loud.  He turned the
barrel to John but the man did not stop his advance.  "Please,
John, don't.  Please!" he pleaded.  Appling raised the rifle,
cocking it as he did.  "Oh God, no." Blair pulled the trigger.

_____________________________________________________

"Blair!"  Jim burst into the room, terrified that he would find
his partner dead.  His own gun trained on the last place his ears
had told him he would find Appling.  He did not see the man.  He
could hear the commotion outside and knew that Simon and the
others were moving in.  Just under that noise, he heard a frantic
whispering and turned toward it.  "Blair?"

"I killed him.  Oh, God, I killed somebody.  Please, make it not
true."  His partner sat in the corner, his eyes shut tight, a gun
on the floor next to him.

The door burst open and uniformed officers poured in as Jim knelt
down in front of his guide.  "Blair?  Look at me.  Are you hurt?" 
Suddenly, Simon was beside him.  

"I killed him.  I killed him. I shot him.  He's dead."

Simon spoke first.  "He's not dead, Blair.  We've called an
ambulance.  You only injured him.  You hear me?"

"Where is he?" Jim asked.

"We found him in the next room.  Sandburg caught him in the
shoulder.  He'll be fine.  He can't believe that Blair actually
shot him, though.  Hell, I can't believe Blair actually shot
him."

"He had no choice.  You hear me, Blair.  You had no choice." Jim
squeezed Blair's arm.  "I heard Appling cock his rifle.  He was
going to kill Blair."  

"Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief, I'm right here.  Come on, open your eyes.  Look at
me.  Are you hurt?"  Jim repeated his question.

"You should be in the hospital."

"Yeah, Chief, maybe so, but I've already covered that with Simon. 
Are you going to open your eyes?"

"He's really not dead?"

"He's going to live, Chief, I promise.  Right now, I'm more
worried about you."  Jim raised one hand and turned Blair's face
to the light.  He could see the ugly bruise already forming on
his friend's cheek.  "You're gonna have an unbelievable shiner,
there, Buddy."

Blair opened his eyes and met Jim's.  Moments passed as the two
of them held each other's gaze, sharing emotions and fears that
would remain forever unspoken but understood nonetheless, at
least to them, Sentinel and Guide, brother to brother.  Then
Blair smiled.  Jim smiled.  Simon broke the spell.

"I don't know what the two of you are grinning about.  You two
are in so deep with me that you're going to need a bulldozer to
get out.  Jim, I'm going to haul your ass back to the hospital
and, by God, this time you're going to stay there.  And you,
Sandburg, you are going with him to get that bruise checked out. 
If you're lucky, they'll keep you.  If you're not, your butt is
mine and I'll give them reason to keep you.  I'm going to devise
all sorts of punishments for you two.  You just have no idea--"

"Blair!" a voice broke into Simon's tirade.  Wyn flew into the
house.

"Wyn."  Blair stood then helped Jim stand.

"Dr. MacDonald, I told you to stay back.  What happened to
following instructions?"  Simon boomed.

"The statute of limitations ran out." she quipped.  She had Blair
in her arms before Simon could come up with a retort.  She
touched the bruise on Blair's face softly.  "My hero," she
whispered.

Blair blushed and ducked his head shyly.  Simon threw his hand up
in the air and stalked away from the scene while Jim looked on,
feeling quite proud of his guide and yet recognizing the cold
hand of fear that gripped his heart.  He could have lost his best
friend.  *Again,* the thought sending a shiver down his spine. 
Blair was out of Wyn's arms and by Jim's side in the space of a
heartbeat.  "Are you okay, Jim?" he asked then rolled his eyes. 
"Of course, you're not okay.  Man, let's get you back to the
hospital."  Blair pulled Jim's arm across his own slim shoulders. 
"Lean on me, Jim."  

"Blair, I can walk."

Realization dawned in Blair's eyes then and Jim knew he was in
trouble.  "You didn't!  Tell me you didn't, Jim.  Wyn, will you
excuse us?"

"Damn, I feel like a kid being sent out of the room when the
heavy discussion starts!  This is twice."

"Wyn,--"

"I'm going!" she snapped.  "But one day, I'm getting an
explanation.  I mean it."  She shook her finger at them before
walking out of the house.  

"You've got the dial turned all the way down, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Damn it, Jim.  I told you not to do that!  Do you know what kind
of damage you might have done?  God, you need a keeper."  Blair
pulled away and began pacing.

"I need a keeper!?" Jim could not help himself.  He clutched his
side as the laughter he could not control threatened to pull his
stitches loose.  "Chief, you're going to make me hurt myself.  I
need a keeper.  That's a good one."

"Laugh it up, Jim.  Go ahead.  Just remember, I'm not the one
going back to a hospital bed.  *And* I get the girl.  I'm  her
hero."

Jim sobered.  "Yeah, Blair, you are.  I'm proud of you."

The blush was back.  Blair closed his eyes.  "Really?"

"You bet, Chief.  I know what it cost you to pick up that gun and
fire it."

Blair swallowed hard.  "I thought I had killed him."

"But you didn't.  You saved Wyn and you saved yourself.  No help
from your Blessed Protector this time, Buddy."

"If I had killed him, Jim, I don't think I could have taken it."

Jim sighed and nodded his understanding.  "Let's get out of
here."  Blair moved back to his side, determined to help the
Sentinel walk out of the house.  Jim chuckled but accepted the
assistance, more for Blair's sake than his own.  He glanced over
his shoulder to see the uniforms surrounding Appling in the next
room then he glanced down at the gun Blair had been forced to use
to save himself.  Then he looked down at the face of his guide,
partially hidden as it was by a curtain of curls, and gave thanks
to all the gods of all the religions he had ever heard Blair
mention that his guide had been spared the burden of Appling's
death.  Another shiver of fear ran through him as the implication
of Blair's words slid home.  Blair could not have handled taking
someone's life, even in self-defense.  Big heart, sharp mind,
resilient body, but fragile soul, that was his guide.  And Jim
was more frightened than ever.  Would being his guide eventually
cost Blair too much?  A broken heart might mend.  A broken body
usually would.  But the soul?  The mind?  Could Jim live with
himself if his job cost Blair his humanity?  He thought of
Appling, nut case, sure, but once and still someone's son,
brother perhaps.  He wondered, *Will I someday cost Blair his
sanity?*  He felt Blair's intense ocean blue gaze on him,
questioning.  He shook his head, smiled and let his guide lead
him out of the condemned house.  He had a lot to think about and
maybe talk about.  But not with Blair.  Not yet.  He saw Wyn
MacDonald leaning against Simon's car.  *Lady, I hope you're
worth what I'm paying you.  If not, it could be me and Blair both
going down in flames.*

Voila'

________________________________________________________