Brotherhood Part 3

Danae

Disclaimer: Alas, they are not mine.  I hope Pet Fly doesn't mind sharing though.  No harm or infringement is intended and nobody's paying me so... unspoken plea here.  It's all in the spirit of fun and a touch of reverence for the folks that do own them.  

Thanks to Missy and Nickerbits, my fabulous betareaders. And to Michelle who inspires me with her amazing writing and understanding of the human soul.  And to everyone else who has written to me with feedback.  I hope you know just how important you are to me.

Season four?  What season four?  This thing was started even before S2!  Now, you know where we are....

Brotherhood Part 3

__________________________________________________________

"She's been gone for a couple of hours now, Simon.  I tried to break it to her gently.  She hates me."

"She'll come around, Jim.  She's a smart woman.  She's just hurt right now." 

"Yeah."  Jim stared at the bland little framed print hanging on the wall of the room for a moment then turned his attention back to his guide.  "Orenda came in a few minutes after Naomi left.  She says he's getting better.  Looks like his kidneys are going to be okay, she says.  Less blood than yesterday.  Just bruised.  No complications so far.  If he'd just take a breath on his own and open his eyes, we'd be home free."

Simon got up and placed a hand on Jim's shoulder.  "He will, Jim."

"Coffee, guys."  Jade entered the room.  She handed off the cups quickly and headed out again.

"Where are you going, baby?"

"I just got a page.  I have to call the office.  I'll be back."  Then she was gone.

"So has Harris fallen off the face of the earth or what?" Jim asked his captain, standing up from the chair.

"So far, we have nothing." Simon sighed.

"Nothing but Baker."

"Jim, I wouldn't put much stock in Baker."

"I know what you mean, but he seemed serious.  He seems too set on the delusion of a glorious victory in battle to jeopardize his chances of being there by helping Harris and going to prison." Jim paced the small room and then stopped by the bedside of his friend once more.

"Well, I'd be a lot happier if our case did not depend on the delusions of grandeur of some Neo-Nazi skinhead."

"I couldn't agree more but that's where we are if Harris doesn't surface soon."

"Captain Banks, I need to speak with Jim alone if you don't mind."  Naomi's voice startled them both. 

Simon met Jim's eyes and Jim nodded.  "I need to find Jade anyway."  The big man paused briefly just behind Naomi and signaled for Jim to keep his chin up, then he ducked quickly out the door.

"I don't know what to say to you, Naomi.  I'm sorry that this has hurt you, but I'm not sorry that we did it."

"I wish I could hate you, James Ellison.  I really wish that I could but I can't."

"That's good news," Jim muttered.

"There's that sarcasm again."

"Actually, I wasn't being sarcastic, Naomi.  It really is good news.  You could make my life pretty miserable if you hated me.  But more importantly, you could make Blair pretty miserable, too."

"I know.  That's why I can't hate you.  I don't understand how it happened, and I certainly don't understand why, but you are important to my son.  And as much as I hate to say this, you are right.  You are here, and--- most of the time, I am not.  I don't have to like this, you know.  I suppose, however, that I have to respect it.  Now, what this means to me exactly right now is that I have to deal with you, not the doctor or the hospital."

"I'm not pulling any plugs, Naomi.  You can just put that right out of your head."

"Jim, I do know what that monitor means.  I know about brain activity.  I also know that the living will that Blair had drawn up said,  ‘no extraordinary efforts and no life sustaining machines.'  That ventilator is a life sustaining machine."

"The old one might have said that, Naomi, but the new one is very different.  It says that as long as there is brain activity, then the doctors are to do whatever they need to do to keep him alive.  If there is no brain activity, and I pray to God every day that I won't ever see that day, I have control.  I decide when to let go, Naomi."

Naomi was shaking her head slowly.  "You'll never let go.  I can see that.  Blair has made a big mistake."

Fury tinged Jim's vision red.  "Of all the damn nerve! You think you're a better choice?  Hey, you're ready at the drop of a hat to let go from what I can see!  I got news for you, lady, your son's a fighter.  I just don't think he's as gung-ho on dying as you seem to think.  He's got his whole damn life ahead of him and I intend to make sure he gets to live it if at all possible.  Not to mention, where the hell have you been when he's needed you?  You are never here.  You breeze in, make a few decrees, burn a little sage, stir up his life, and disappear again.  Hell, Naomi, even if you did still have control of his living will, we would never be able to find you to ask you what we should do!  And don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining.  He'd be dead already if you had been around more.  He's been here before, Naomi.  When he was dosed with Golden, when he was shot last year, I was here.  You weren't.  I couldn't find you.  I made the decisions that had to be made and he's still here.  No, I won't just let go!   So, you do your mantras and you process all you want, but don't you dare try to challenge me on this.  I won't back down."

"His life is not yours to play with!"

"He's not yours either!"

"He's my son!"

"So what?!  He's--" A choking sound from the bed stopped Jim's angry reply in his throat.  "Naomi,--"

"I'll get the doctor."  She ran from the room as Jim leaned over his guide just in time to see panicked blue eyes open.

"Just relax, Chief.  The doctor will be here soon.  Don't fight the ventilator."  A tear slid down Blair's temple and his brow furrowed as Jim caressed his forehead gently.  "It's okay.  Don't get upset.  Everything will be just fine.  Do you remember what happened?"  A look of confusion gave Jim his answer.  "That's okay.  We'll talk about it all later."

Orenda blew into the room then, and Jim was pushed unceremoniously out of the way and out of the door by the pushy little nurse that followed her. He had to watch from the doorway with Naomi.  Moments later, Orenda joined them in the hall as the nurse went back to her station.

"How is he?"  Naomi asked hurriedly.

"Tired, in pain, but awake and relatively coherent.  Don't push.  Let him rest and he'll be just fine.  You can go back in to see him if you like.  Just don't expect him to talk a lot or to understand a whole lot of what you say.  He'll fade in and out and sleep a lot for the next few days.  If you need me, I'll be close by."  She left them then.

Awkward silence filled the space between Jim and the woman that was his best friend's mother.  Their eyes met and locked for a long moment.  Finally, Jim could stand it no longer.  "Well, if you aren't going in, I am."

"I'm his mother."

Jim sighed in disgust.  "Why don't we both go in?"

"After you."

"No, after you.  Ladies first."

"Oh, not his mother first, but *ladies* first."

"Oh, for crying out loud."  Jim brushed past her and into the room.  He made it Blair's bedside just seconds ahead of Naomi, even though she opted to go to the other side of the bed.  "Hey, Chief."  Jim smiled down at his partner.  "Better now that the tube is gone, huh?"

Blair nodded a little.

"Baby, mama's here."  Naomi touched Blair's cheek.  "Can I get you anything?"

Again, Blair nodded.

"What, Baby?"

Blair looked at her and then at Jim.  He swallowed and grimaced at the pain it caused. Jim thought he could almost feel that pain himself.  "Don't fight anymore, please."  The voice was so small and raspy and yet, it had the power to leave Jim's knees shaky.  Blair had heard at least some of their argument apparently.  He looked at Naomi's stricken face.  She blushed furiously, and Jim knew that she was feeling the same shame that he was.

"You got it, partner.  No more fighting."  Jim told him, all the while, hoping that he could keep his word.  Naomi had not forgiven him.  He could see that in her eyes.  She might be sorry that Blair had overheard them and gotten upset, but she was still angry.  It was only a matter of time.

__________________________________________________________________

"Hello?" Mark Coley mumbled into the phone as he rubbed his eyes.  He hated to wake up to a ringing phone. 

"Mark, I need some help, buddy."

"Kevin?  Oh man, Kev, what the hell are you doing calling me?  I don't want any part of this.  You are in the shit, man.  The feds are on your tail."

"Feds?!  What for?"

"Hate crime is a federal offense, you idiot!  I can't believe you!"  Mark heard his former friend swear on the other end of the phone.  "I can't help you, Kevin."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

"You're my best friend, Mark."

"I was your best friend, Kevin.  Until you let your so called brothers turn you into somebody I don't want to know."

"Who rolled on me, man?  Do you know?"

Mark was silent.  What could he say?

"Shit!  I can't believe it!  Mark, why, man?"

"Because I have to look at myself in the mirror every morning, Kev.  Listen to me. You need to turn yourself in.  Don't make them come for you, Kev.  Make it easier on yourself.  From what I heard, that cop that hangs with Mr. Sandburg would like nothing better than to put a few holes in you.  Turn yourself in."

"Not going to happen, Mark.  I got somebody else willing to help me out.  Thanks for nothing, man.  And Mark, watch your back, dude."  With a click, he was gone. 

Mark sighed heavily and hung up the phone. He sat for a few minutes just staring at the wall of his dorm room then turned his head to the empty bed across the room.  Once, it had been Kevin's.  That was before he started spending all his time at the frat house.  Officially, he was still living there but he had not spent the night there for weeks and his stuff was long since gone as well.  Mark wondered about the frat's willingness to allow Kevin, as just a pledge, to stay at the house.  They had not given him a room but he was sleeping on an old couch in Will Franklin's room.  He groaned as he realized that just maybe Kevin was so welcome because he had given the frat their perfect initiation rite.  What if the attacks had been Kevin's idea?  It seemed all too possible.  Even if Kevin had not come up with the idea, he certainly did not have any trouble participating. How could he have never known that Kevin was capable of such cruelty? He sighed and picked up the phone.  He needed to call Captain Banks and those feds. 
________________________________________________________________

"Well..."

"Well, what?"  Jim responded to the woman across his partner's bed from him.

"This is uncomfortable." Naomi replied flippantly.

"Don't start, Naomi.  We promised that we wouldn't fight.  Just because he's asleep now doesn't mean I'm going to go back on that promise."

"I'm not fighting.  I'm just stating a fact. Don't you have some cop stuff to do or something?  Shouldn't you be finding the monster that did this to him?" She pointed at her son's sleeping form.

"I'm waiting to hear from an informant and I'm off duty right now anyway."

"I see."

"Naomi," Jim sighed, "we were friends once.  This doesn't have to be this way."

"We were friends before you let this happen to him.  And you do realize that we both are not supposed to be in here at the same time, right?"

"Damn it, Naomi.  You think I wouldn't give anything to be able to go back and prevent this?  You think I wouldn't gladly trade places with him?  I would.  Anything, everything I have, everything I am I would give up to have kept him from this pain.  But it's too late for that now and I feel incredibly guilty that I wasn't there.  That I didn't prevent it.  That I could have probably prevented it if I had just gone against his wishes and put some protection on him.  But he didn't want protection, and he's a grown man, and it was a matter of principle for him, and I didn't want to take that away from him, so I let it go.  I don't need your accusations and recriminations, Naomi.  I've got enough of my own.  You don't need to *make* me feel guilty, Naomi.  I already do.  So, can we just stop the hostility and focus on getting him back on his feet?  He's the victim of a hate crime.  Do you realize what that means?  Do you know how devastating that can be to a person?  He's not just physically hurt here.  He's emotionally traumatized.  The last thing he needs to have to deal with is you and me bickering and using him as the rope in some twisted tug-of-war."

"That's quite a speech.  Did you practice that in the mirror?"

Jim drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, while mentally counting to ten.  "You are bound and determined to piss me off, aren't you?  You want me to lose my temper and break my promise to Blair so you can crow about it to him and prove to him that I'm not worthy of him and his friendship.  Well, it won't work.  As it is, this conversation is getting dangerously close to turning into an argument so I'm bowing out of it.  You may continue to talk if you like, Naomi, but the walls will be your only audience.  But I'm not leaving.  You'll just have to be uncomfortable."  Jim sat down in the chair behind him and deliberately tuned his senses to close out the woman in the room with him until he could almost swear he was alone in the room with his best friend.  He could only hear Blair's soft breathing and heartbeat.  He could no longer smell Naomi's perfume.  He could only smell his partner's unique scent with a hint of the baby powder scented soap that the nurse had used when she gave the younger man a sponge bath earlier.  From his sitting position, most of his view of the woman was obscured by the her son and the bed he was lying in so it only took minimal adjustments to narrow his field of vision to just the rise and fall of Blair's chest. Yes, Chief, being a sentinel had its advantages. 

And a few disadvantages, Jim discovered as someone shook him hard and a panicked voice registered in his ears.  "What!?  What?" he nearly shouted as he faced a white-faced nurse.

"Oh, Mr. Ellison, you scared the life out of me!  I couldn't get you to acknowledge me!  Are you all right?"

"Fine, just pre-occupied," Jim assured as he glanced around the room looking for Naomi.  "Where's--"

"She told me that she was going to the cafeteria."

Jim looked down at his watch.  It was dinnertime.  He had only been out of it for about an hour.  He had not actually zoned, he supposed.  He was still very much aware of the world outside himself.  It was only that the scope of his world had been pared down to include only his guide.  He stood and gently ran one hand over Blair's forehead before turning to face the nurse once more. "What did you need?"

"Oh, I forgot," she sighed, a pained expression on her face.  "Your captain is on the phone at the nurse's station."

"Great, thanks." Jim checked once more to make sure that Blair was still deeply asleep.  He was and was not likely to awaken in the next few minutes.  Jim would have hated to have his friend wake up alone.  Then he followed the nurse out of the cubicle and to the nurse's station.  She handed him the receiver.  "Simon, what do you have?"  Jim listened as Simon told him about Harris's call to Mark Coley. He had been hoping that Baker had called but that was obviously not the case.  Mark Coley was in protective custody in light of the not so veiled threat from Harris.  "Thanks, Simon." He hung up just in time to see Naomi get off the elevator.  She glared at him for a moment and then walked past him with her head high.  He shook his head sadly.  It was going to be a long night.  Maybe he needed to get something to eat and some coffee.  Maybe the sullen woman would be easier to take after a Wonderburger.  "Ma'am," he addressed the nurse, "if she asks, tell her I went to get something to eat and I *will* be back."  It was with almost gleeful maliciousness that he stressed that last part.  "And if Blair wakes up, tell him the same thing.  I don't want him thinking I deserted him.  Okay?"

"Sure, Mr. Ellison.  Though I doubt seriously he would ever think such a thing, I will tell him."  She smiled at him sweetly. 

"Thanks." Jim returned the smile and with one last look back, he turned to the elevator.

______________________________________________________________________________

When Jim returned forty minutes later, with Tums in hand for the indigestion sitting heavy on his chest, Dr. Milap was in the cubicle with Blair and his mother.  "Oh good, Jim, you're back.  I was just about to give out some good news and I'm sure you wouldn't want to miss it."

"Hey, Jim." Blair whispered softly then as his eyes took in the roll of Tums in Jim's hand, the soft voice took on a scolding tone.  "You went to Wonderburger, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Yeah but nothing.  You better be glad I'm in this bed right now, Jim, else you'd be in deep trouble."

Jim smiled.  "Nice to have you back, Chief."

Orenda Milap was grinning at them both.  "As I was saying, gentlemen, Blair is being moved to a room in just a few minutes.  Jim, I figured that you'd want a private room for him."

"Right."

"Good.  There's no more blood in your urine, Blair, so your kidneys are definitely on the mend.  Everything seems to be fine with the surgery and the latest X-rays show that your head is actually even harder than we originally thought." She lightly ruffled his curls as she teased him. 

Jim could not help but chuckle and Blair joined him albeit cautiously.  "Don't make him laugh, Doc.  Hate for you to have to redo all those stitches." Jim warned.  Jim met Naomi's angry eyes for just a second then.  None of this news seemed to make an impression on her.  It was probably not the nicest thing he would ever do but he had to do something to remove the scowl from the woman's face before her son saw it and got concerned.  "Isn't this great news, Naomi?" 

There was a flash of pure hated on her face before the smile obliterated it. "Wonderful news. Blair, I'm so relieved, sweetie."

Blair reached for his mother's hand and she took it.  "Sorry I scared you, mom."

"Well, I'll leave you all alone now.  The orderlies will be around in a few minutes to get you moved to your new room.  Good night all."  Orenda left then and the room temperature seemed to nosedive.   Of course, Blair, the trained observer noticed immediately.

"Okay, I want to know.  What's happening here?  Why are the two of you fighting like this?"

Jim glanced at his best friend's mother.  "We're not fighting, Chief."

"Jim, you are like the worst liar ever.  Mom?"

"It's nothing, sweetie.  You just concentrate on getting better."

"You're angry with him because you think that I got hurt while I was working with him, right?  Well, you're wrong.  I was at the university."

"Do you remember the attack, Blair?" Jim jumped in. 

"Yeah, I remember everything.  I don't know who all of them were but I do know one.  Kevin Harris.  He wanted me to know it was him.  He took off his ski mask and made sure I knew that he was the one doing the most damage.  I had already figured out that he was involved though.  That's why I was calling you.  I thought I recognized his handwriting.  You remember Hassan, the wr--writing on his forehead?  Well, it was the n's, Kevin makes his n's that way.  He was mad at me about his test grade, see?  So it had nothing to do with Jim, Mom."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room and Jim could tell that Blair was confused. *Poor kid thinks that all should be well now.* Jim decided to come clean with it all.  "We have some of the guys in custody, Blair.  An informant told us about Harris.  He's still out there but we'll get him, Buddy.  You can count on that.  But, I think you should know that the attack itself is not what has your mother so upset with me--"

"I can speak for myself, Jim Ellison." Naomi interrupted.  "Blair, honey, why did you change your living will?  Why would you give *him* the right to speak for you?"

"Oh shit," Blair whispered softly.  He turned his eyes to Jim. "Was it that bad?"

Jim sighed, glanced from his guide to his mother and back again. "I didn't think so.  Your mother disagreed with me and given your new living will, the hospital listened to me."

Naomi picked that moment to start ranting again.  This time at her son about how could he trust Jim to make his decisions, knowing what a control freak Jim was, and why did he not discuss it with her first.  Jim tuned her out and concentrated on the stricken face of his partner.  The expressive blue eyes showed Blair's every emotion. Shock, confusion, and pain shone out of the depths and Jim watched as they got brighter with unshed tears.  "Naomi."  She kept on, her voice growing more and more shrill.  "Naomi," he tried again.  "Naomi!  Shut up for a minute."  She cut off in mid-sentence.  "Blair, are you all right?" Jim reached out and touched a trembling shoulder.

"I need to be alone for a while," finally came a choked reply.

"Blair, honey--"

"Please, Mom."

"Are you sure, Buddy?"

He nodded.

"Blair--"

"Mom!  Could you just give me a little while here?"

"Fine.  I hear that."  She grabbed her purse from the windowsill and stormed out of the room.

Jim sighed and shrugged a little at Blair's hurt expression.  "I'll come back later.  Call me if you need me."

Blair nodded again and Jim started for the door.  "Hey, Jim."

"Yeah, Chief?"

"Thanks for not pulling the plug, man."

Jim grinned a little then.  "Anytime."

_____________________________________________________________________

Simon watched from the back of the lecture hall as Dr. Thomas, the professional side of his Jade, led those present through an exercise that Simon was sure was going to cause a riot at any moment.  He even had one hand on his cell phone just in case he needed to call in backup quick.  Suddenly, there was someone next to him.  "What are you doing here?  Thought you'd be at the hospital with Blair," he asked his best detective. 

"Blair wanted some time to himself.  I think he's a little shocked at how close this was."

"So he's awake enough to be shocked.  That's good.  I'll go by and see him tomorrow.  Does he remember?"

"Yep.  He confirmed that it was Harris, but he didn't see any more faces.  What the hell does she think she's doing?" Jim pointed down at Jade.

"I have no idea but I wish she'd get to the point before we have to get out the riot gear." 

_______________________________________________________________________

All across the front of the lecture hall there were charts set up.  Each chart listed a different ethnic or religious group and then separated each group into male and female.  On each chart, Jade wrote down all the things that were being shouted out to her about each group, while making note when she could of who had shouted out what.  Jim easily read each chart and understood the tense atmosphere in the room immediately.  She was at the chart that read Islamic people and the assembled crowd was shouting out that Islamic men were all terrorists and that they beat their wives.  Someone else said that the women were submissive and stupid.  After a few more derogatory comments, Jade moved on to another group and then another.  Every chart was filled with the most hateful and hurtful stereotypes for that particular group of people and Jim had to wonder what the purpose of this exercise was.  Was Jade trying to pick a fight with several hundred college students?  Finally, after the last chart was filled, Jade put down her marker and turned to face the room again.  "Well, wasn't that fun?"

The stunned and angry silence of the room was her answer.  "Oh Lord." Jim heard Simon whisper.

"What?  Does someone have a problem with this?  I think we've pretty accurately depicted just about every ethnic and religious group, don't you?"

"No," came one lone voice down front.

"Why not, Ms?"

"Morgan.  It's all wrong.  That's not me." 

Jim sought out the face to go with the voice.  She was a pretty black girl in the third row.  He could see her in profile if he leaned forward.

"Mr.?"  Jade pointed to someone not far away.

"Baker." 

Jim nearly fell out of his chair. It was Derrick Baker, there in Jade's seminar.  Granted, attendance was mandatory for everyone, which was why it was being offered several nights, but Jim was still a little surprised to see him.

"Mr. Baker, let's see, I believe that you said that black women were lazy, shoplifting, welfare collecting baby machines.'  And that is a direct quote, right?"

"Yeah." Baker frowned.

"Ms. Morgan, are you saying that you don't fit that bill?"

"Of course not," she snapped.

"How does that comment make you feel?"

"It hurts and it makes me angry."

"Hey, I think I remember her yelling out some stuff about other people." Baker pointed out.

"You know, Mr. Baker, I do believe that you are right about that.  Let's see, Ms. Morgan.  I think this one was yours.   White men are wife beaters and alcoholics. Most of them are bigots, too.'  Do I have that just about right?"

"Yes, but--"

"And Mr. Baker, how does that make you feel?"

"Why should I care what she thinks?"

"I didn't ask you why you should care, Mr. Baker."

"It pisses me off, okay?"

"Okay."   She turned her attention back to the audience as a whole.  "I want each of you now to look over these charts.  Find the one or maybe even two that address your ethnic or religious background and read it.  Open yourself up to the emotions that the words there evoke.  Then look at the person beside you.  Remembering how you feel about the hateful things you see on your chart, find that person's chart and try to put yourself in his position.  Do the feelings change?  Ms. Morgan, if you are hurt by what Mr. Baker said, don't you think that Mr. Baker could be hurt by what you said?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you want to hurt Mr. Baker?  Is there a reason that you should?  Does he somehow deserve it just for being white?"

"No ma'am."

"Mr. Baker, I put the same questions to you."

Jim shifted in his seat to get a better view of Derrick Baker's face and what he saw was astonishing.  Doubt.

"Mr. Baker?  Does Ms. Morgan deserve to be hurt because she is black?  Do you have a reason to want to hurt her?"

"No."

Jade smiled up at Simon for a split second as the answer came.  "Then why do we do it?  And how do we stop it?  Let's look at recovery, shall we?"

Jim sat back in amazement and looked over to his captain to see the same amazement reflected back at him.  "Wow."

"Yeah." 

Jade went on to talk about behavior models and how recovery from a lifetime of being taught stereotypes and prejudice was a process that may never be totally complete.  She told the students that the sad truth was that if someone was determined to be a bigot, nothing short of a miracle was going to change his mind, but that did not mean that the rest of the world, the assembled audience especially, had to simply accept hatred as right.

"The last thought I want to leave you with comes from the Desiderata.  It is this.  'You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars.  You have a right to be here.'  Thank you for your attention and good night."

Jim quickly turned his hearing down, just in time to keep from being deafened by the applause.  When he stood, he came face to face with Derrick Baker.  The young man seemed embarrassed and did not seem to want to meet Jim's eyes.  "Baker."  Jim greeted him simply.

"I haven't forgotten.  I had to come to this thing tonight so I wasn't there to get any calls.  Sorry."

"I understand.  This was mandatory, after all."

"Yeah, well, later, Ellison."  He hurried away.

"Somebody just got his world tilted a little." Simon remarked softly behind Jim's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jim responded quietly. "Well, I'm gonna call Blair and see if he's doing okay.  If he's ready for company, I'd like to go back to the hospital.  You said you're coming tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'd say tonight but I don't think I'm going to get Jade out of here anytime soon." Simon motioned to the huge crowd of students in the front of the room, totally blocking the little psychologist from sight.  "And if and when I do get her outta here, I'm taking her to dinner at Natalia's.  Is my lady impressive or what?"

Jim grinned.  "Very impressive.  See you later, Simon."  Jim clapped him on the back and made his way out of the lecture hall.  He pulled out his cell as he went.  He wanted to talk to Blair.

____________________________________________________________

Blair had spent the first half-hour after Jim and his mother left just staring out the window of his new room.  Just after they had gone, the orderlies had come to get him.  He was now settled in room 347, with its nice view of another wall outside the window.  After determining that the wall was not going to come down from the sheer force of his will, he turned that will to examining his feelings of panic and pain when Jim had told him just how close he came to not being here to stare at that wall.  If his living will had not been changed, he would be dead.  His mother would have turned off the ventilator and he would have died.  He shuddered.  What had he been thinking when he signed that first will?  Was he really that willing to let go of life?  Was his mother that willing to let go of him? 

Now, that was not really fair.  He had written the will.  He had determined its contents.  His mother would have only been carrying out his expressed wishes.  And the truth was, that when he had made out that first living will, the contents did express his wishes.  What had changed?  Was he stronger and braver now or then?  Which took more courage, living or dying?  "Great. Leave it to me to engage myself in deep philosophical discussions so soon after being in a coma."  He rubbed his temples.  He had a headache.  Just what he deserved for such deep thoughts. 

Back to the important question.  What had changed for him and when?  When did he want to re-write that will.  Why did he want to re-write it?  It was after the Golden incident.  He remembered that much.  Jim had been upset that the hospital at first would not talk to him about Blair's condition.  They saw his mother's name down as the contact person and wanted to speak with her.  Simon had stepped in then, so Blair had been told.  But Jim did not want that to happen again.  They talked and decided that both of them would change their emergency contacts.  After all, Jim's dad would be useless to Jim and the hospital if Jim zoned out.  Blair would need access to him in that case.  Then the living will came up and before Blair even realized it, he was changing it too.  So what did that tell him?  What was the common theme?

Jim. 

Blair never really had anyone before Jim that needed him.  Naomi loved him, but she certainly did not need him.  He had friends but they would recover.  Jim needed him.  And he needed Jim too.  His letting go days were over.  Blair was going to hold onto life with both hands now.  Because Jim Ellison had lost enough people in his life.  Because Jim Ellison needed a guide for his sentinel senses.  Because Jim Ellison deserved to have him stick around.  Blair smiled a bit at that one.  It could be taken one of two ways.  But most importantly, because Jim Ellison had given him so much: A home, a lasting friendship, his trust, and apparently, a reason for living.  He took a moment then to thank whichever supreme being that saw fit to bring Jim into his life before turning his attention to the other matter weighing heavily on his mind. 

He had been the victim of a hate crime.  Kevin Harris and his fraternity brothers had decided that he deserved to suffer just because he was Jewish.  Tears threatened to fall then and he swallowed hard in an attempt to remove the lump in his throat.  He had always known it was possible that one day someone would not stop at calling names and pushing him around like the childhood bullies he had dealt with a few times in his life.  He knew full well that people like Kevin Harris and Derrick Baker existed. He could even quote texts on why such people existed, how society even aided and abetted their creation, etc.  None of that made him feel any better though.  None of those facts and theories kept him from shuddering every time he saw a swastika, heard on the news about Neo-Nazi activity.  And certainly none of that lofty knowledge kept his heart from breaking and his eyes from getting blurry with tears right now. 

The phone rang and he nearly jumped out of his skin.  He quickly wiped his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath before picking up the receiver.  "Hello?"

"Hey, Chief.  How are you doing?  Just thought I'd check in with you."

The concerned voice on the other end of the phone was his undoing.  "Ah, Jim--" the words trembled and his voice faltered.

"You need me?"

The sob escaped before Blair even thought to try to stop it.  "Yeah."

"I'm on my way.  Be okay till I get there?"

"Yeah.  I'm sorry, Jim."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Buddy.  Be there soon."

Blair hung up the phone and turned on the television in the hopes that he could occupy his mind with other people's problems so that he did not have to think about his own.  It was not to be, however.  The door to his room opened and his mother stood in the doorway.  He turned the television off again and met her eyes.  "Hi," he muttered as he wiped at his eyes again. 

"Blair, sweetie, if you're ready to talk, I think we really need to."

"Jim's on his way back, Mom."  He meant to let her know that they would not have a lot of time to talk but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he knew he had said the wrong thing.

"Oh?  Did he get a call inviting him back?  You'd rather have him here than your own mother?"

"That's not it at all, Naomi.  He called to check on me and I was upset so--"

"Upset about what?  I'm your mother.  You can come to me when you're upset."  She stepped closer to the bed.

"When you're here, I can."

"I'm here now and still you turn to him!"

"Naomi, just stop it."

"A minute ago, it was Mom.  Now it's Naomi.  I think I see where I stand."

"I can't do this with you right now.  Maybe you should go."  Blair sighed and let his head fall back on his pillow.

"So he can come in and fix everything?  He's done such a good job of that so far, hasn't he?  If he'd done his job, you wouldn't be here right now.  If he'd been taking care of you like he said he would, you would never have gotten hurt.  Why, he can't even catch the monster that did this to you.  And this is the man that you've entrusted your life to!  Blair, you are smarter than this!  You don't need Jim Ellison.  I taught you to take care of yourself, not to let people make you think that you needed them, not to let yourself get bogged down in other people's lives.  You have too much to do out there, in the world, to let that man put chains on you!"

"Geez, Naomi, I'm not his slave."

"Really?  You live in his house, you work his job with him, you *do* his job for him, cook meals for him, take orders from him.  You probably do his laundry for him.  All the while, you are also trying to do your job and go to school.  Sounds like a slave to me."

Blair shook his head.  "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand."

"I can't.  You won't listen and even if you would, there are confidences that I can't and won't break."

"Try me.  I may not be as stupid as you think."

"Naomi, I like working with Jim and if I could take a moment to remind you, he took me in when my place burned and let me stay.  I do his laundry but he does mine too.  I cook; he cooks.  We're partners, friends, family."

"This is the father thing again, isn't it?  He's not your father."

That hurt and Blair had to take several moments to compose himself before he could address her again.  "I knew you wouldn't get it.  You're right, though.  He's not my father.  He's my brother.  Think about that for a while, Naomi.  Meditate, process, whatever you need to do, but get this through your head.  I choose to be here.  I choose to work with Jim.  And I choose Jim as family.  You can either accept that or not but my choice does not change because you can't accept it.  Something else you should know.  If you try to drive him away, I'll never forgive you."

"And it will never work anyway so you needn't try it."  Jim's voice filled the room suddenly. 

Naomi stiffened.  "I hear that.  I think I need some time alone now."

"I understand," Blair stated simply.  Then she was gone, the breeze in her wake smelling faintly of jasmine.

"Sorry, Chief.  I probably didn't help matters much."

"It's okay.  She'll process like she always has before, longer than before maybe, but she'll eventually get over it."

Jim nodded at him.  "Brothers, huh?"

"Yeah," Blair blushed a little.  He should have known that Jim would have heard that.  "Do you mind?"

"Not in the slightest.  Brotherhood ain't so bad."

"At least not when you get it right."  Blair's thoughts turned to the fraternity and Jim seemed to know what he was thinking about right away.

"They don't count, Blair.  Hell, they barely qualify as human in my book."

"Maybe they were human once."

"Maybe, but not now.  But I'm not here for them, I'm here for you.  Wanna talk about it?"

"That's my line."  Blair smiled and Jim chuckled.

_________________________________________________________________________

Jim smiled fondly at the sleeping figure in the bed.  He leaned back in his chair after carefully extricating his hand from his guide's.  Blair had literally fallen asleep mid-sentence just minutes before.  They had talked for nearly an hour.  They had discussed everything and Blair had agreed to talk to the department psychologist after his release.  Jim was a little surprised to find that even knowing that the attack was more a personal thing for Harris than a hate crime did not really help Blair very much. The depth of Blair’s trauma made Jim’s heart ache. Jim had known that hate crime traumatized the victims tremendously and so expected Blair to be shaken up but he had not known about Blair's previous experiences with prejudice.  Playground bullies were a far cry from what he had suffered at the hands of Harris and the others but those small scars had been reopened and added to the wounds inflicted on his friend, his little brother. *Little brother,* Jim thought with affection and amusement.  Who would have thought he would be not only willing but eager to call this neo-hippy flower child his little brother?  Jim tried to get comfortable in the chair and had almost succeeded when a roll-away cot appeared next to him.  He looked up at the nurse attached to the cot.

"I figured you weren't leaving so I brought this," she explained softly.

"Thanks." 

She helped him unfold it and then make it up with the sheets and blanket she had brought.  "You're welcome," she said then.  "I'll bring you back a pillow."

Jim thanked her again and lay down.  He did not remember her returning but the next morning, he woke up hugging a pillow.

When Simon arrived with Mathis and Reese in tow, Jim took the opportunity to excuse himself to go home and shower, leaving behind his promise to return as soon as he could.  He was halfway to the loft when the call came.

"Ellison."

"I'm supposed to meet him down at the ferry at noon but you may want to get your hands on him before then," Derrick Baker told him.

"Why's that?"

"He said some stuff that makes me think he's going after your partner again.  I'd be at the hospital if I were you."

Jim spun the truck around in the middle of street, prompting many screeching tires and not a few horns.  "Thanks," he grounded out through his clenched teeth before tossing the phone onto the seat to concentrate on his driving, only to pick it up again when he realized that he should warn Simon and call for backup. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Naomi Sandburg's tearful eyes burned holes in him as Simon tried again to reason with the young man that held her captive.  Rotten luck, that was what it was.  She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  A nurse saying hello to her had told Kevin Harris what a valuable hostage she would be.  The only good news was that Harris had never made it down the hall to Blair's room.  Simon had been leaving, Mathis and Reese right behind him, when he caught sight of Harris.  Before he or the federal agents could respond, however, Naomi was held tightly in Harris's grasp.  

"Son, it's over.  Don't make this any worse than it is.  Put down the gun and let her go."  Simon's phone rang then and he handed it back to Reese to answer.  He was not even aware of phone after that until Reese was trying to hand it back to him.

"That was Ellison.  He's on his way back," Reese whispered.

"How far?"

"Didn't say."

"Damn."  Simon turned back to Harris.  He took in the young man's appearance.  He was dirty and disheveled.  His eyes had a wild glint in them that Simon had come to associate with the insane.  Harris had gone over the edge.  He was going to kill Blair's mother and then he would try to take them out as well and Simon was at a loss as to what he could do to stop it. Then things went from bad to worse.

"Simon?"  The weak voice behind him could only have been one person. 

"Blair, go back to your room, son.  You shouldn't be on your feet." He blocked Blair's way but not before he got a glimpse of what was happening.

"Mom?" 

Simon closed his eyes and made a decision that he hoped Blair would forgive him for later.  "Mathis, could you get Blair back into his room?"

"No!  Simon, that's my Mom!"

"I know that, son, but I don't want him to get another shot at you.  Let me handle this.  Jim's on his way.  We'll take care of it."

"No, Simon!"  Blair protested even as Mathis gently but firmly forced him back down the hall.  Orenda met them at the door of Blair's room and swiftly sedated her struggling patient.  Mathis disappeared into the room and returned moments later without Blair Sandburg.  Orenda Milap shrugged at Simon from the door of the room and then ducked back inside.  Only then did Simon realize that Kevin Harris was demanding that Blair be turned over to him.  He was screaming at Blair to come back out into the hallway and take his punishment.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jim took the stairs three at a time.  When he had reached Reese instead of Simon, he had known what was happening.  His trip back to the hospital was a blur, his mind only able to focus on his goal: to get back to Blair.  Using the techniques that Blair taught him, Jim pinpointed Harris's location before he hit the landing on the third floor and he smiled grimly.  Harris would never see him coming.  The young man had set him up so that he could see the elevators.  Smart, but not smart enough.  He forgot about the stairs.  His back was to the stairs.  Jim barreled through the door and took Harris down before he had time to react.  Of course, Naomi would be a little bruised but she was alive.  It was over quickly, almost too quickly for Jim.  He wanted more of a struggle, some excuse for doing Harris some bodily harm.  Simon, Mathis and Reese swarmed around Jim and his prey.  Jim slammed the younger man's hand against the floor until he released the gun then hauled him up and shoved him toward the stunned federal agents.  Harris was screaming at him, calling Blair a kike and Jim a kike-lover.  Most of the rest of the ranting was unintelligible but there was something there about brothers. 

"Are you all right, Jim?" Simon asked.

"Yeah."  Jim stepped over to Harris who was now cuffed. "You know nothing about brotherhood, you little bastard."  Then he turned to Mathis.  "Get that trash outta here, will you, guys?" he addressed Mathis and Reese.

Mathis nodded solemnly and pulled Harris toward the elevator.  The man was still screaming when the doors closed.

Jim sighed.  Simon was helping Naomi up from the floor and the nurse who had hidden behind the nurse's station came out to look her over.  "Are you okay, Naomi?"

"Yes, I think so.  That boy was crazy."

"No kidding." Jim leaned back on the wall behind him.  "You should get Orenda to check you out.  Or...somebody.  I know you don't like Orenda."

"I'm sure she's a competent doctor and she took great care of Blair." She sighed and looked down at the floor for a moment. “And Jim, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of Blair. I know I’ve been hard on you but without you, he wouldn’t be here right now. I just need some time to get used to this.”

Jim stood up straight.  "Well, you’re welcome. He means a lot to me. I only hope that you can get used to that.” Before it could get awkward between them, Jim turned to his captain again. “And now, speaking of Blair, how the hell did you keep him out of this, Simon?"

"Mathis and Orenda.  Mathis took him back to his room and Orenda sedated him."

"Oh, is he gonna be pissed!" Jim smiled evilly. 

"I know.  And I told Mathis to do it so I guess my name will be Mud for a while."

"You are so screwed." Jim chuckled.

"Thank you, Jim.  You are so very helpful."

_____________

EPILOGUE

_____________

"Hello, Jim."  Naomi's tone was civil.  Just civil, not friendly but it was better than hostile so Jim smiled and was just as civil. 

"Hello Naomi.  Come on in."  Jim stepped back and allowed her to enter the loft and Blair's Welcome Home party. 

On the other side of the room, Mark Coley approached his anthropology teacher with his head down. "Mr. Sandburg?"

"Hi Mark.  How's it going?"

"Okay, I guess.  With Kev, you know, I'm back at the dorm and back in my classes."

"Good."

"Listen, I just wanted to say I'm sorry.  If I had said something sooner maybe--"

"It's all right."  Blair smiled.  "Look, no doubt you're behind now.  I have some time before I can get back to work but while I'm sitting around, I can help you get caught up."

Simon handed Jade a glass of punch.  "Oh!" she exclaimed.  "You'll never guess who called me yesterday."

"Who?"

"Aren't you even going to try to guess?" she teased.

"Noooooo, who?"

"Derrick Baker." She was solemn again instantly.  "He's not convinced but he's thinking."

"Well, I'll be damned."

"A little different from my response."

"Which was?"

"Damn, I'm good."  She shrugged, a mischievous little smile on her face. 

Simon nearly choked on his punch but he could not bring himself to disagree.

Much later, only Simon, Jade and Naomi remained to help clean up.  Simon and Jade eventually ended up on the couch keeping Blair company as the three of them watched Jim and Naomi be oh-so-polite to each other as they worked together to put the finishing touches on the kitchen.  Blair shook his head as his mother and his partner began to argue, still ever so nicely, over which way the kitchen towel should be folded. "Jade, what am I going to do?  They're going to politely beat each other to death."

"They'll work it out," She assured him.

"Maybe, but what about in the meantime?  This could very well drive me insane."

"I have a suggestion," Simon spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"Run like hell, son. Just run like hell."

"Oh, you are too funny."

"Learning to duck would probably be a good idea, too." The older man was obviously trying not to laugh out loud.

"You are digging your grave, Banks.  You're already on my list, you know."

But Simon, big manly Simon Banks, was much too busy snickering and giggling to pay much attention to the threats. The sight of that inevitably caused the corners of Blair's mouth to twitch until his only recourse, lest he start laughing too, was to call in the big guns.  There was one thing that Jim and Naomi would and could get together on.  Protecting him.  "Mom, Jim!  Simon is picking on me!"

The end