Soul Shadows Part 3 Danae Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. They belong to Pet Fly. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. I mean no harm, infringement, or disrespect and I certainly am not getting paid for this. I'm just having some fun. As ever, thanks to my wonderful betas, Beth, Missy, Laura and Paulette. Thanks to Nickerbits for bidding for this story in the auction. This one's for you! Thanks to Michelle, my friend and inspiration! And last but not least, to everyone that writes me with feedback and encourages me with their words of support. There are some references to and some spoilers for S2, BMB, and Cypher. And some references to the deaths of various vehicles . And a few bad words. Hmmmm, can't think of anything else. Soul Shadows Part 3 Danae _______________________________________________________________ "Mr. Ellison?" "Yes." Jim stood, shaking off the mini-zone that he had allowed to take him away from his confused and anguished thoughts for a while, and faced Dr. Sullivan once more. Why did he have to be on duty every time Jim brought Blair in? Okay, so it was really only the second time but Jim had already made up his mind. He did not like the man. "Your partner is awake and he's asking for you. Should I get the papers now or are you actually going to let me find out what's wrong with him this time?" Jim's temper flared and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from throwing the weasel-faced man up against the wall and choking the life out of him. "There is nothing wrong with Blair that I can't handle." "Then why is this the second time in three days that I have seen him? Mr. Ellison, I realize that you care about your partner. I know that you don't want him to continue this way. Do you? In order to stop this from happening, we need to find the cause. Now, I ruled out drug-induced delusions and hallucinations the last time he was here. A psychiatric evaluation will find or rule out any mental illness. If the eval finds a mental cause for his problems then psychiatrists now have excellent treatments for things like this. If the eval rules out mental illness, then we would start looking at physical causes such as brain tumors or chemical imbalances." Jim's hands were hurting, and he looked down at them to determine why. He discovered that his fists were clenched tight and his fingernails were on the verge of breaking the skin of his palm. "Get me those papers and show me where my partner is. Never mind, I'll find him myself," he growled through clenched teeth while he made a conscious effort to uncurl his fingers. Sullivan sighed. "You know, Detective, as a doctor I can have someone admitted and have that eval done without your consent if I feel that Mr. Sandburg is a danger to himself or others?" "Only with a court order and even then you'd be lying. Blair would never hurt anybody and I'll file every member of the Cascade Major Crimes Unit before the judge to say so. So, I guess you can try, but we make really bad enemies to have, Dr. Sullivan and I assure you, you will not be pleased with that result. Get me those papers. Now." Sullivan studied him for a moment, perhaps trying to determine the sincerity and verisimilitude of the threat. Finally, he frowned and looked up at the ceiling over their heads. "I'll get the papers." "Thank you." Jim remarked, not any sincerity in those words at all. He walked away from the irate man and smiled smugly as he focused his hearing behind him to listen to the irritated mumbling. Sullivan was not a happy man. Which made Jim feel much better. As he passed through the emergency room doors, he refocused and quickly located his guide. Jim walked into the cubicle where Blair lay on the table, obviously impatient and more than a little rattled. "Jim! What happened? Why did you bring me here?" "Do you remember anything, Chief?" "I remember everything but how I got here." Blair flung his hands in the air. "You left me alone!" Jim looked at his partner apologetically. "I didn't have much of a choice. I'm not exactly Sullivan's favorite person. I'm sorry. Are you okay? "I'm fine now." The emphasis on the word "now" did not escape Jim's attention. "Anyway, I was sort of hoping you would forget some of it." "Jim," Blair sat up and folded his legs into his meditation pose, "you weren't responsible for that. I know that." "It happened before." Blair tilted his head in confusion. "When? Where? Ahh, this morning or last night. That's what you wouldn't tell me." "I was cooking breakfast and I just got out a knife and..." Jim could not finish the sentence. "And you were tempted to play Norman Bates on me?" Jim scowled at him. "This is serious, Blair." "I know. Believe me, I know. Sorry. But I have this figured out now." "Then, by all means, Sandburg, explain it to me before I actually succeed in killing you." "Jim, you won't kill me. That's the flaw in Maggie's plan. You're a Sentinel, I'm your Guide. Part of your imperative as a Sentinel is to protect me. Just like Dawson tried to protect Van and they hadn't even discovered what they were yet." "You're taking an awful big leap here, Chief. We don't actually know that Dawson ever exhibited any heightened senses." "We can ask his daughter though. I bet he did." "She said she was still young when he died." "I want to talk to her anyway, Jim." "Fine, so what else have you figured out?" "The psychic was wrong. Van never killed anybody and if I'm right, never would have, not intentionally anyway. So you were never in any danger from me." "You, on the other hand..." "You were supposed to take Maggie's place. That was why you went for the knife. I guess she figured that a gun would work just as well in the garden though since there was no knife handy." Jim nodded soberly. "So, what do we do?" "I'm not sure about that part yet. The one thing we don't do is go back to that house. That's the center. That's where she's strongest." Jim shook his head. "It's gone from 'they' to 'she.' Why?" "Sarah has no power. She's trapped here by Maggie's hate. She doesn't want to kill me. In her own twisted way, she really cares about me. It stills gives me the creeps but I know she doesn't want to hurt me." "Van. She doesn't want to hurt Van." Jim corrected. "But I am Van." "Okay, we're so far into the Twilight Zone that I'm not even going to argue that one with you anymore." "And I know why all of this happened too." "Oh, you do? Mind passing that along, Chief?" "Because of them. I think that they drew me back here to Cascade. Think about it, Jim. They've been trapped here now for one hundred years. Maybe they need closure and they need me to somehow give them that closure." "Blair, I don't think there's anything that could provide them with much more closure than what had already happened in that house one hundred years ago. She hated them both, she killed them both so why doesn't she leave you the hell alone?" "No, it's not that simple. Maggie was his mother. She had to feel something besides hate." "Oh, great. Now, we get to it. You think you're going to save their souls and send them on to the afterlife, don't you? I think I liked it better when you wouldn't say their names, Chief." Blair looked down into his lap then back up at Jim. "I have to try." Jim knew that look and he hated it. The look that made Jim unable to say the simple word no. The same look that got him all the nurses' phone numbers and everything he asked for every time he ended up here in this very place. "Damn it, Blair, they're trying to kill you and you still want to save them?! When will you get it through your head that some--- people, for lack of a better reference, aren't worth saving?!" I don't know, Jim! How long did it take you?! Because I can certainly remember a time when you hadn't figured that out either! I thought I was going to have die a couple more times before you got it! You seemed a little indecisive on that beach!" Jim looked down at his chest and was amazed to see that there was no knife stuck in there. It had certainly hurt like he had been stabbed. "Oh, shit," he whispered softly. "Blair--" "I'm sorry." Blair cut him off with the apology. "I am, but you just pissed me off." He paused and looked out the window for a long moment. Jim could see him composing himself, letting go of the anger behind the words. "Maybe the part of me that was Van needs some closure too." Jim tried for composure himself and settled for being able to lower his voice instead. "And if I lose control again, what then?" "You're expecting it now. You can fight it better. We'll be fine. Jim, I trust you. You are not going to hurt me." "Maybe you should stay with--" "If you say it, so help me God, I'm going to punch you straight in the face. I'm not going anywhere and you aren't going to make me. Pack my stuff, I'll unpack it. Take down my bed, I'll sleep on the floor. Empty out the entire loft again, hell, we can both sleep on the damn floor but I'm not leaving. You said that you would stay with me, Jim. That you wouldn't leave me alone to deal with this. Are you backing out on me now?" "No, of course not. I'm just worried." "No, now you're running scared. You know, Jim, you'd think after all this time, we would eventually get on the same damn page." Jim almost chuckled. "You read faster than me, Chief." Blair smirked at him. "At least you admit it." Jim shook his head and turned to look out of the door. "Where is that stupid Sullivan with those papers?" Jim muttered. "We have to get outta here. Simon only gave us until ten to get to the station or call before he was coming down here himself. He's pretty worried about you, Chief." "Which reminds me, you never did tell me what happened." "You passed out once we were out the garden. One minute you were about to tell me something and the next I had to catch you before you hit the ground. Nearly gave me a heart attack." Blair considered that for a moment before he said anything. "I remember walking out of the garden. I was supporting you. I remember you pulling away and saying something to me but I couldn't hear it. There was this sound in my head, like somebody screaming, and I felt like something was pushing me down, something heavy and then nothing until I woke up with that doctor standing over me." Said doctor picked that time to finally show up. "Sorry, got busy," was his explanation. "Actually had a patient that I was allowed to examine. Who's signing this time?" Jim indicated Blair and Sullivan handed the clipboard to the younger man and folded his arms across his chest until the clipboard came back to him. "Good luck, gentlemen, expect to see you again pretty soon." He left and Jim had to turn his head away and bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Blair gave him the "behave" look that he had no doubt learned from Jim during the many times when the situation was reversed. Blair got down from the table and grabbed Jim's arm. "Let's go before he tries to commit us both." ____________________________________________________________ The bullpen doors had not even stopped swinging before Simon was screaming their names from his office. "Get in here!" the man added before leaving the door open to them. Jim motioned for Blair to take the lead. "Oh, I get to go in first? Gee, Jim, thanks." "Hey, he gets hold of you and I have time for a tactical retreat." "Funny. I want a new plan." Blair muttered as he stepped into the office. Simon was not poised for an attack, however. He was seated at his desk. "Close the door, Jim, and you two have a seat. I want to know what happened. I was just before coming to find you. Two minutes to spare, gentlemen. Just two minutes more and I'd have been coming down on somebody's head." "It's Jim's fault, Simon." "*My* fault? Going to Radcliff House was *your* idea, Chief," Jim protested. "Yeah, but you're the one that panicked and took me to the stupid hospital," Blair argued. "Well, next time I'll just toss you in the back of the truck and come on in to work. How would that be?" "In the back, Jim? I'm loved," Blair remarked. "Enough!" Simon raised both arms in exasperation. "Answers, gentlemen, before I get too damn old to care." "Blair had an idea and it didn't work out very well." "And?" "Jim tried to shoot me." "Excuse me?!" Simon stood suddenly. "Seems that psychic woman was wrong, sir." Jim sighed before continuing. "Blair is not being pushed into killing me and himself. It's the other way around." Simon looked thoroughly confused. "But you haven't even sensed these--- spirits, right?" "Right, until this morning. So far this morning, I have twice picked up a weapon against Blair." "Twice?!" "A knife while I was making breakfast and the gun at Radcliff House." Simon turned his attention to Blair. "And you didn't get the hell out of there? What's wrong with you?" "I didn't know about the knife. I was in the shower and Jim didn't tell me until after the gun thing." "Slip your mind, Jim?" Simon's tone dripped with sarcasm. "No, Captain. I didn't know how to say it and I couldn't explain it. I still can't. I really am not comfortable with the idea of ghosts and reincarnation." "I think we're past the part where your comfort level has anything to do with it, Ellison. Something is happening here and there is no other explanation for it, as much as it pains me to say so. Sandburg, what's your take on this?" "Which part? I mean, I think that they been trapped in that house since they died. I think Maggie is the force behind all of this. I think that those people that died in the house all died because of Maggie's anger and hatred. She projected those feelings on one person in each of those families just like she's doing with Jim and each of those people were compelled to murder their families and kill themselves." "But Maggie Radcliff did not kill herself. Sheriff Dawson killed her," Simon pointed out. "But I think she would have had he not come in. She attacked him because she knew that he would do it for her. One way or another, she brought about her own death." "So, what do we do, Chief?" "Well, she's too strong at the house. She's on her home turf, so to speak. I say that we try to take her to our home turf." "Chief, she's dead. Just a little reminder, d-e-a-d." "So is Incacha, d-e-a-d as you put it, and we've both seen and talked to him." "The jungle? How?" "We've shared a vision before, Jim. We can do it again and since she and Sarah are *with* me, we should be able to see and talk to them." A groan from behind the desk made both of them turn in time to see Simon sink into his chair and put his head on his desk. "Never easy with you two, is it?" he mumbled. "Why is it always so difficult with you?" "Sorry, Simon," Blair apologized. "Okay, how do we do this? Last time, you were clinically dead and I was freaking out." "We can try on our own or..." "Or what?" "We can ask Dr. Winston to put us under." "No. No Dr. Winston. You can help me and then you can try to join me." "If it works." "Yeah, if it works. And if it doesn't?" Blair shrugged. "Then I come up with another idea." "You know, Sandburg, for somebody who doesn't like heights, you certainly fly by the seat of your pants an awful lot," Simon grumbled. Blair only smiled and Jim could not help but smile with his partner. Blair would figure it out. Jim was surprised at the conviction of the thought in his head. Perhaps he was finally learning to have a little faith in their bond. Perhaps the rift that Alex Barnes had caused was healed at last. Whatever the cause, he realized that he trusted Blair completely with both their lives. At some level, he had always known that Blair would always be there for him but he often wondered if Blair did not take too many chances with his own life in doing so. However, as he took in the brilliance of his partner's smile, recognized the intelligence behind the blue eyes, he just knew Blair would figure this whole mess out and fix it. It was a comforting feeling. He had not felt that way since Incacha died on his sofa. It was a revelation. A recognition. A shock. Blair was his Shaman. Blair was his Guide. Since Incacha's death, Jim had been trying to hold on to his memory, hold on to the man's wisdom, placing his trust and faith in his first guide and in doing so, rejecting his true guide, the one Incacha was preparing him for. *It's about time.* He could almost hear the words, in Incacha's smiling tone and in Blair's relieved one. Jim shook his head and laughed. "What?" Blair asked. "Nothing, Chief. I'll explain later." "Well, whatever you have to do to get rid of---- them," Simon waved his hands around in the air, "do it quick. I would like to have this taken care of and things back to blessedly boring normal, as if I even remember what the hell normal is, before this weekend. I've got a trip planned with my son and I don't want to spend it worried about what's become of the two of you. Now, get out of my office and take your ghosts with you." "Like I have a choice," Blair mumbled. Jim gripped his Guide's shoulder and then slipped his arm around Blair's neck. "Let's go, Junior. You have work to do and so do I." Once outside the office, Blair turned to him. "I'll get us out of this, Jim. I promise." "I know. I trust you, Chief." In an uncharacteristic show of affection, Jim touched Blair's face for just an instant. The shocked look on Blair's face told Jim that he still had some repairs to make to Blair's faith in himself. _______________________________________________________________ Blair examined his best friend from across the man's desk. He knew what he was about to ask was not going to greeted with a smile, much less acquiesence. "Jim," he started, pausing for his friend to acknowledge him, "can I see the diaries now?" Jim's inquisitive look gave way to a dark, brooding one. "No," he replied quickly before ducking his head to flip through the file on his desk once more. "Jim, I need to see those diaries. There might be something in there that we can use." "I said no." Blair sighed and looked off for a moment. "Have you looked at them?" "No. Changed my mind. I'm taking them back to Camille Parks." Jim would not look at him. "But Jim--" Jim's chair slammed into the wall as the man stood abruptly. Blair fell back a few steps involuntarily. "I said no, damn it! Now leave it alone, Sandburg, before I--" Jim stopped and the silence in the bullpen was deafening as all eyes focused on them. Blair stared at the fist Jim had raised to him. His heart was racing and he felt light-headed as he watched the fist lower slowly. Then Simon was there, cutting off Blair's view of his Sentinel. "Take a walk for a minute, will you, Sandburg? I need to talk to your partner." The Captain's deep voice was soothing and calm and Blair felt himself nodding as he backed up a few more steps. "Blair, wait." Jim called and he stopped. "Blair, go. You can talk to him when I'm done." Blair held out one hand in entreaty. "But Simon, he needs--" "He needs a swift kick in the ass." Simon cut him off. "Are you going to give it to him?" "You don't understand," Blair protested. "Blair, I'm sorry." Jim stepped from behind Simon. "Go on, Chief. We'll sort it out." Blair was torn. He watched Simon and Jim disappear into the captain's office. He wanted to go in there. Jim had stopped. It was not his Sentinel's fault. He needed to make Simon understand that but he also needed to get some air, calm his nerves, slow his pounding heart. He was getting a headache. Finally, he left the bullpen, painfully aware that all eyes were on him. He was half-way to the stairs before he realized that someone was calling his name. He turned to see Joel Taggert hurrying to catch up with him. He tried to smile. "Hey, Joel." "Where are you headed?" "Out to get some air." Joel nodded. "Mind if I walk with you?" "No." Blair was eternally grateful, although he could never explain to the man beside him why. The voices of Maggie and Sarah faded away as Joel moved up beside him. He swallowed and tried once again to smile. It worked out a little better that time. Funny how much easier it was to smile when you did not hear some disembodied voice calling you the Devil's spawn and telling you that you should die and another one whispering endearments to you. The first voice filled Blair with fear, the second turned his stomach. But the third, Joel Taggert's, banished the other two as the man made small talk and slipped a comforting, fatherly arm around his shoulders. ________________________________________________________________ "Okay, what was that? I thought you were going to hit him. Why?" Jim flopped into a chair. "Simon, I don't know. There was just this voice in my head telling me that he never does as he's told and that he's always asking questions about things that he should leave alone and I needed to shut him up. I was up and my hand was raised before I even knew what was happening. Sir, you know I'd rather face a room full of ex-cons that I sent up than hit Blair but I almost couldn't stop myself. If I hadn't seen that look of fear in his eyes, I might not have stopped. It shocked me right back into reality that I had made Blair afraid of me." Simon rubbed his temples. "I wonder if Van Radcliff asked too many questions." "Hell, Simon, if this reincarnation stuff is real and Van and Blair are in fact the same soul..." "Then of course, Van asked too many questions." Simon finished the sentence for him. "Jim, I hate to ask this, but is Blair really safe with you right now?" "I don't know. He says he is. He may be changing his mind about that right now. Anyway, he won't even talk about staying with someone else until we get this sorted out. And besides, it's unfair for me to ask him to go anywhere because I can't control myself." "Then you go." Simon suggested. "I can't!" Jim exclaimed, getting up to pace. "He can't stand to be alone right now. Every time he's alone, he hears them. And he has nightmares, nightmares that I don't even want to think about. Let's just say that he hasn't had nightmares like this since Lash. Simon, I'm sleeping on a cot in his room. Now, he's apparently convinced that we should face off with these *ghosts* together in a vision. I still haven't come to grips with it happening the first damn time and he wants me to do it on purpose, if that's even possible. And if it is possible, that scares the hell out of me too." Jim took a deep breath. "But you know something, Simon? I'll do it. If it's possible, I'll do it. Anything to stop this. Anything to help Blair. And if it's possible, he'll find a way." "You sound pretty sure of that." "I am." Jim laughed ruefully. "He's my Shaman, Simon. He's my Guide. It has taken me awhile to grasp it but I think I got it now. I trust him. If something's not right, Blair will right it. If something's broken, he'll fix it. I really, really hate it, but I'm done arguing with him about it. I'm just going to listen and do what he says and believe and trust in him." "To throw one back at you, who are you and what have you done with Jim Ellison?" Jim smiled. "A Sentinel and a cop with a damn good partner named Blair Sandburg that I have ignored and dismissed for too damn long. And last time I checked I was still Jim Ellison. I've just passed a test that I've been failing for the past year or so." "You forgot something." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, you forgot the understanding and diligent captain that's gonna kick your ass if you fail that test again. Now, get out of here and take a few days to try to get this straightened out. I can't have you two going at it in the bullpen like that again. You actually hit him in front of these people and your name will be Mud for the rest of your natural life." "Yes sir. I know and thanks." ________________________________________________________________ "Are you and Jim okay? Is there anything you want or need to tell me?" Blair was surprised that it took his friend as long as it did to get to what he really wanted to know. They had walked three blocks, talked about everything from basketball to the weather to obscure anthropology facts before Joel finally asked those burning questions. "I know that looked pretty bad but we're really okay, Joel. We've been dealing with a really stressful situation and Jim's a little on edge." "Has he ever hit you before?" "No! Joel, we aren't like that. Jim didn't hit me. He stopped himself. I was asking him for something that he thinks would do me more harm than good. I disagree but he feels very strongly about it and he's not had the best day today." "So you were in the hospital this morning because..." "Because I passed out." "So this has to do with your health?" Blair grinned, finally figuring out where this was headed. "So you drew the short straw?" "What?" Joel feigned innocence but Blair saw the guilt clearly in his eyes. "You're on a fact-finding mission, my friend. You're investigating like any good cop but your report won't go to Simon. It'll go to, let's see, let me guess, Brown, Rafe, Megan, Rhonda maybe. Am I right?" Joel actually blushed. "Am I that easy to see through?" "Transparent." "We were just worried about you. I mean, this is twice you've been in the hospital in the past few days and neither of you offered any explanation why. Then Jim looking like he was about to try to lay you out, well, we were worried before but this was just too much." "Joel, if I told you what was going on, you'd think I was crazy." "Try me." "Another day, okay? I want to get back now. Jim's probably getting worried." "We have the whole walk back." Joel said, hopefully. Blair looked at the older man, letting his eyes speak for him before he said a word. "I just rather not talk about it right now. Just trust me that Jim is not going to hurt me and that we are going to be fine. I'm not sick and I'm not hurt. Jim and I have this, well, almost under control." "You promise me, Blair, you aren't in danger and I'll stay out of it until such time you want to and can tell me about it." "I promise." "Okay. But if you need me, you know you can call anytime." "I know, man. Thanks." "And just so you know, I'd say Simon got the short straw. He's having to grill Ellison right now. I got the easy part." Joel's arm was over his shoulders again as they started back toward the precinct, silent comfort to two troubled minds. _____________________________________________________________ It had been a quiet day, much to both Blair's and Jim's surprise. No further incidents to unsettle either of them. They had wrapped up some paperwork and Jim had accompanied Blair to the university library for a few hours while Blair dug for books that might could be of some help to them. Finally, Blair had placed an inter-library loan for a few texts with the librarian. A day, maybe two, she had told Blair, and they would be there for him. He thanked her and he and Jim headed for home. They entered the loft in companionable silence. Jim set about preparations for dinner while Blair pulled his lecture notes out and silently read over them. He had a class to teach the next day, which meant that he would be away from Jim, away from everybody, at least for a little while the next day. He could not ask Jim drive him to the campus and walk him to the Hargrove Building and to his classroom, could he? He glanced at his roommate and best friend in the kitchen. He could and Jim would but it was not fair to Jim. The man had already done so much. He needed to get a handle on this himself. He knew that Jim had not slept as well as he had claimed on the hard cot the night before. He could see the lines of tension around Jim's eyes and mouth. He needed to buck up and not lean on Jim so much. Jim had a job that he needed to do. Then again, Simon had ordered them both to take a few days off. Still, Jim did not need to have to baby-sit Blair 24/7. Besides, whether Blair liked it or not, he had some more research to do and his books would probably be there. Poor Jim would be bored stiff while Blair dug through books on Shamanism and visions. Decision made, he put his notes down on the table and tried to appear casual and relaxed as he walked into the kitchen. "Um, Jim?" "Yeah, Chief? Hand me that cayenne pepper, would you?" "Living dangerously tonight, Jim?" Blair picked up the spice, looked at it for a second, then passed it to the man in the flowered apron. He tried to hide his grin. That apron was still funny. It was so out of place on Jim. Jim saw the grin anyway. "Not a word," he warned, pointing the meat fork at him. Blair could not help it. He had to step back. Jim snatched the utensil back and swore under his breath. "Sorry." "No, I'm sorry. That was stupid." "The hell it was. After the day we've had, Chief, it was perfectly understandable. Now, what'd you need?" "You know, I have class tomorrow, right?" "Yeah, I'll be with you tomorrow. Gotcha covered." "No, Jim. I don't want you to have to follow me around and be bored to tears all day. I mean, how long will I be alone? The drive over and walking to my classroom. Then there'll be lots and lots of Intro to Anthro students there to distract me." "Then you're going back to the library though, right? Unless you are actually speaking with someone close by, you can hear them." "Well, yeah but--" "But judging from lack of nightmares last night, I just have to be there. Am I right?" "Yeah, you seem to be the exception. You just have to be near." "Then that settles it. I'll come with you." "Jim, I have to learn to deal with this until I figure out how to stop it. You've done enough. And you should probably sleep in your own bed tonight too. You look tired." "Absolutely not. I'm drawing the line there, Chief. I'll get more sleep on that cot than if I have to go get you at three in the morning again. If you really think you can handle it, I'll back off about tomorrow. The truck could use a tune up and I still didn't give Simon back the keys to Radcliff House. We aren't ever going back there if I have anything to say about it. However, there's no way in hell I'm risking another nightmare scene like finding you in that garden so you're stuck with me tonight and for any subsequent nights until this is over." Secretly, Blair was happy. At the same time, he could not help but feel a bit guilty. He did want Jim near at night but he hated that he was giving up his own comfort to cater to Blair's fears. "Okay. It's a decent compromise," he said, despite the guilt rolling around in his stomach. "Now, Jim," he paused. "Actually, could you put down the meat fork before I say this. Better yet, give it to me." Blair reached for it and Jim relinquished it easily. "You're going to ask me about those diaries again, aren't you?" Jim seemed calm as Blair examined him closely before answering. "Yeah." The Sentinel sighed heavily and put both hands on the kitchen counter. "I swear I wish I had never asked her for those damn things. Blair, let me put these steaks in the oven and we'll talk, okay?" "Fair enough." Blair handed the meat fork back to him and went back into the living room to continue reading his notes. Moments later, Jim sat down on the other end of the couch and Blair waited for him to speak. "Why?" came the question after a few long minutes of silence. "I think I need to know more about them before I face them." "Before *we* face them. I understood you to say that we were going to do this together." "Man, I hope so," he mumbled then realized what he had said and how it sounded. "I'm sorry, Jim. It seems a little selfish but I don't want to do this by myself and I think the two of us together stand a better chance." Jim moved closer and closed a big hand over Blair's shoulder. "United we stand, divided we fall, I think I've learned that lesson now, Chief. It doesn't sound selfish. It sounds smart. I'd expect no less from you." Blair blushed under his friend's praise. "Thanks, man." "I'll get the diaries and we'll look at them together. Is that good enough?" "More than good enough. Preferable, actually." Jim nodded and went off to his bedroom to retrieve the books that he had hidden from Blair. And hidden quite well, because he had looked. He was tempted to try to peek to find Jim's hiding place. Never knew when one might need such information. But he did not. He waited patiently until Jim returned. Jim took the books to the table. "Come over here, Chief so I can keep an eye on dinner." Blair tried very hard not to run and snatch up the books, but he did move just a little too fast and he had one of the books in his hand before Jim managed to set them on the table. Jim made a face at him and gave him an apologetic half-smile, half-grimace. He pulled out a chair and sat down. Jim did the same. _____________________________________________________________ Dinner was turned off half-done as Jim and Blair waded through the diaries of Sarah Radcliff. Jim stared at the earliest of the books in which Sarah described the events around her sister's rape and pregnancy. Apparently, the idea of the child she carried being evil came from their mother. Sarah refused to believe it but Maggie, hurt and frightened, bought the whole thing. As he read, he shook his head. It was amazing that Van Radcliff had even been born. Elizabeth Radcliff beat Maggie regularly for being "corrupted" by her father's evil. The beatings apparently caused premature labor and Van was born nearly a month early. Given the times, Van's survival was a miracle, or rather, according to Elizabeth, the work of the devil. Old Man Radcliff himself died only a month after Maggie began to show signs of her pregnancy, Mommie Dearest putting arsenic in his food and standing over him while he died. Sarah recounted the early days of Van's life as being difficult on Maggie as their mother evidently descended into madness. Eventually, Sarah convinced Maggie that they had to lock their mother up before she killed them all. The two sisters locked their mother in the attic. Surprisingly, however, little Van was taken to see the old woman for several hours each day up until she died. Sarah wrote that even though the woman was convinced that they were all cursed, she was kind to Van and would play with him during his visits and he called her Mama. "Their mother was nuts too," he announced to his partner. "Lovely family. Father and one sister were child molesters and mother and the other sister were violent murderers." He got no response and he looked up to see why. Blair's face was stark pale and the book in his hand trembled. "Chief? Are you all right?" His partner took a shaky breath and raised his eyes to Jim's. "I'll be all right. I'm just getting a really good understanding of some of the images in my nightmares, that's all." "Maybe you should stop." He reached for the book but Blair avoided him. "No, Jim. This is important. I can handle it." He frowned. He did not want his Guide to have to handle it but he relented and turned his attention back to the book in his own hands. He scanned ahead to the death of Elizabeth Radcliff. The whole town turned out for the funeral, Sarah had written. No one even questioned why the woman had not been seen in her last years. It was just accepted that she grieved for her husband and took care of the child *she* had given birth to so late in her life. Everyone believed that the little blue-eyed boy who clung to Sarah's skirts was her brother. Sarah had thought that a bit funny. Jim read her words silently, *How could anyone believe that that shriveled-up, crazy woman had given birth to such a bright and beautiful child?* Jim glanced up at Blair. The younger man had placed one elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand as he continued to read. Jim tried to imagine him as a little boy, curly-headed and blue-eyed, clinging to Naomi. He got the picture in his head and he had to smile. The smile died quickly, however, as he returned to his task. Again, he scanned the book until a few words caught his eye. Van was three and he had broken one of Maggie's favorite vases. She hit him and Sarah had come to his rescue. *Some rescue,* he thought bitterly as he skipped the description of what Sarah had considered a rescue. His stomach turned. "Three years old," he muttered. "What?" Blair's question startled him. No way was he going to tell Blair what he had just read. "Nothing, Chief. Have you found anything?" "Sarah was worried that Sheriff Dawson was going to figure out that they killed their father and locked up their mother. She said that Dawson seemed too interested in Van. She told Van to stay away from him. He didn't and she told Maggie. Maggie beat the hell out of him and locked him in the attic for three days. Sort of ironic, huh? Van's hiding place became his prison." "When was this?" "The year before the murders, April 1898. She also didn't like that Van was talking about trying to go away to school. The teachers at the school were encouraging him. Oddly enough, Maggie was all for it. Maybe she just wanted to get rid of him." He shrugged. "I don't know, Jim. I've been thinking." "We're in trouble now," Jim teased, hoping to bring a smile to the pale countenance before him. It worked. "Ha-ha. But I'm serious here. Maggie and Sarah were trapped here but Van wasn't. His soul moved on. Why? Was it because he was meant for something else? Or was it that Maggie didn't really hate him as much as she hated herself and Sarah. Because I do believe that it's Maggie's pain and hatred that has held them here." "I don't know, Blair. I don't understand any of this. I'm just along for the ride with you. You're the driver on this trip." "Am I driving the truck?" Blair grinned mischievously. "Pardon the expression, but not in this lifetime." "Jim, I'd like to go the record right now and remind you that in the three plus years that we have known each other, I have had two, count them, two cars. I did not wreck the first one. It was shot up once and then Alec finished it off. I still have the second one. You, on the other hand, have had three vehicles. You battered and beat the first two into early graves and if not for Mac's Auto Salvage, the third would be dead as well. So, my friend, which of us has a better track record?" "I don't want to talk about it." "And then there was the damage to Simon's car. I still can't believe that you tried to drive while you were blinded by that golden, man." "Sandburg..." Jim said in playful warning. The color had returned to Blair's face and he was smiling, truly smiling. His guide needed this diversion. "Your insurance guy makes a bundle off you. He just loves to see you coming. Then again, maybe not, he probably pays out every cent you pay in!" "I seem to recall you shooting up a couple of police cars. What do you say to that?" "Funny, that's not real clear to me." "No kidding, Darwin." "Hey, I can't be held responsible for that! Now, you, though, shooting out the tires of your own car and making that guy crash it into that shop! How much did that cost?" "You're asking for it, Junior." Jim moved slowly out of his chair, closing the distasteful diary with one hand. "You'll have to catch me first." Blair shot out of his chair and into the living room, the book he was reading laying forgotten on the table. Jim stalked him, the two of them moving around the couch. He jumped the couch suddenly and Blair was unable to elude him. His young partner yelped as Jim took him down to the floor, making sure to soften the fall as much as possible. He straddled his squirming guide and started to tickle him. That was the last thing Jim remembered until he saw his hands wrapped around Blair's throat. Blair's fingers clawed at his and his face was red. He could not let go. He tried but his body did not respond to the commands of his frantic mind. He was going to kill his best friend. His mind screamed in denial but his fingers tightened. Then Blair spoke. Jim was amazed that he could manage to get any words past the chokehold that he could not seem break. "Please, Jim." The words were barely whispers but Jim's hearing was out of control and it sounded more like a scream. Jim felt a tear run down his face. Blair's next words astonished him even more. "Please, Mama." Jim felt his stomach lurch and suddenly he had control of his body again. His hands flew away from Blair's neck so fast that he struck himself in the face. He bolted for the bathroom. He fell to his knees in front of the toilet just as the retching began. They still had not eaten dinner but Jim lost the beer he had drunk earlier and the coffee he had been sipping on as he read. But it didn't stop there. Dry heaves racked his body for several minutes before he was able to fall back onto the floor. He lay there afraid to move. Afraid that if he tried, he would not be able to, or that he would go after Blair again. ________________________________________________________________ Blair lay unmoving on the living room floor, gasping for breath. He heard Jim vomiting in the bathroom but he did not yet have the strength to go to him. His throat hurt and he could not move his head without the room spinning above him. He could hear Maggie screaming at him. Berating him. Swearing to punish him for insolence. Sarah was whispering to him about how she would make it all better. For him to let Maggie do her worst and she would be there to fix it. He shook his head and stars exploded in his vision. "Jim?" he croaked, despite the fact that he could still hear retching. He rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself up to his knees. More stars. He willed them to go away and then rose slowly to his feet. He stumbled on the first step but regained his balance by grabbing the back of the couch. When the worst of the dizziness passed, he started for the bathroom. It was quiet in there by this time but Jim was not coming out. He made it to the door and leaned on the frame. Jim was sitting by the toilet, a mixture of horror and misery in his expression. Jim noticed him and a sound suspiciously like a sob came from his Sentinel. He cleared his aching throat. "Are you okay?" Jim's look became incredulous. "Am I okay?" The laugh that escaped Jim's mouth bordered on hysterical and he took a step closer. "No!" Jim held up one hand. "Don't. I want you to go call Simon. Tell him that we need him here." "Jim, it's okay. We'll be fine. I know what to do." "Well, I don't, Blair." He could see Jim's eyes take in the damage. Blair was not planning to look at it until he had to. "I'm okay." "I hit you. I can see the bruise forming on your cheek. And I can see the outline of my hands around your..." he trailed off. "That's going to bruise too." "It wasn't you, Jim." "The hell it wasn't." "Okay, your body, your hands but not your thoughts, not your intentions, not your mind and soul, man. I trust you, Jim." "Well, you damn well shouldn't! Now, go call Simon, like I asked you." "She couldn't go through with this time, Jim. She let go." "Blair, right now, I don't really give a good goddamn about what she did or didn't do. All I know is, we were having a good time one minute and the next I was damn near killing you and I couldn't stop." "But you did." "I couldn't fight it, damn it! Aren't you listening to me? Aren't you even listening to yourself? You just said that *she* stopped, *she* let go. Not me, Blair! I didn't stop it. *She* stopped it. I would have killed you! Go and call Simon! Now, Blair!" Blair swallowed hard. He nodded and left Jim sitting there on the bathroom floor. He moved numbly to the phone and called their captain. _____________________________________________________________ Simon Banks ran up the stairs to the third floor of 852 Prospect and pounded on the door. He was just about to pound on it again when it opened. A bruised and despondent Blair Sandburg stood in the doorway. Simon reached out and turned the young man's face to get a good look at the bruise there and then lifted his chin to see the perfect outlines of Jim's hands on Blair's throat. Simon swore. "Where is Jim now?" "Still in the bathroom. He won't come out. I've been sitting in the doorway so I could see him and talk to him. I don't like being alone so..." "I know, kid, I know." Simon surprised them both by pulling Blair to him and hugging him. He released him and moved toward the bathroom. "Come on out of there, Jim," he called before turning back to the living room and collapsing on the couch. "Have you eaten?" Blair asked softly. "Yeah." "We haven't so I'm going to turn the oven back on, okay?" "Sure, sure." Simon waved at him. Blair stopped, however, and Simon turned to see Jim coming toward them. "I'm going to finish dinner, Jim." "Okay, buddy." Sandburg continued into the kitchen and Jim sat down on the arm of the couch. "Simon, could you stay here with us tonight?" "As if you could make me leave, Jim." "Thank you." "You're welcome." Simon watched them. They were both subdued and quiet. It was unnatural and frightening. They ate and they watched TV and they got ready for bed and the whole night, Simon could swear that he would hear a pin drop. It was not until they were actually headed for bed when the silence came to an abrupt end. "Jim, where are you going?" Blair demanded as Jim started up the steps to his bedroom. "Simon's gonna stay in your room with you tonight, Blair. I don't trust myself." "Who decided that and when?" "It wasn't discussed or anything. It's just the way it should be right now, Chief." "Jim--" "Please, Blair, don't argue with me about this. Simon, you don't mind, do you?" "No," Simon replied simply and waited for the tirade. It did not happen. Blair looked sad and defeated. "Fine. Good night." He turned on his heels and marched into his room. Simon gave Jim a sympathetic shrug and followed him. Blair waited patiently for Simon to settle down on the cot before he turned off the bedside lamp, cloaking the room in darkness. He was almost asleep when Blair's voice brought him back to full awareness. "He knows that all he has to do is be here and it all goes away. Why is he pulling away?" "He's afraid, Blair. He hurt you tonight. He doesn't want to chance hurting you again." "My head knows that. My heart, though..." A pause. "Good night, Simon. I'm going to apologize in advance for waking you up with my nightmares." "Apology accepted, Blair. But maybe it won't have even been necessary." "I wish I could believe that." Silence descended and Simon tried to close his eyes again but for some reason he felt compelled to watch the silent figure on the bed across the room from him. He did not want to see Blair's nightmares. He prayed that he would not have to. His prayers were not answered. _______________________________________________________________ Jim lay awake in his bed. He could not sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was subjected to images of his hands around Blair's throat. He hated leaving his partner with Simon. Blair had told him that he only needed to be close by to stop the voices and the dreams but he could not and would not chance hurting Blair again. After all, logic suggested that Jim would be even more susceptible to control when he was asleep. It certainly had worked that way with Blair. He had driven out to Radcliff House and lay down in that garden and never remembered a thing about how he got there. No, Jim was not going to risk losing control in his sleep and being close enough to hurt his Guide. This way, distance and Simon would be at least two obstacles between he and Blair. He wondered if Blair had even thought about the possibility of Maggie gaining control of Jim while he was asleep. He had not, Jim decided as he remembered the sad look in his eyes when he had put his foot down about the sleeping arrangements. He sighed and punched the bed with his fist. He did not want to hurt Blair's feelings but that was a whole lot better than hurting Blair. He extended his senses to check on his partner and his captain in the room downstairs. Simon was awake and Jim wondered is his captain's mind was as restless as his. Blair was asleep. He listened to his friend's heartbeat and tried to let the familiar sound lull him to sleep. It had worked on other occasions. Perhaps it would work this time and allow him to keep watch on Blair from afar at the same time. Minutes later it seemed, he was in the Radcliff garden. He saw the body on the bed of flower petals and stepped toward it reluctantly. As he neared, his heart began to pound in his chest. The body in the garden, laid out so nicely, neatly was not Van Radcliff. Jim looked down into the still, lifeless face of his Guide. "Blair!" he screamed as he sat up in bed. "Jim! Get you ass down here now!" Simon's order held a note of panic that Jim was not accustomed to hearing from his unshakable captain. He nearly fell face first out of his bed in his haste as his feet got tangled in the sheets. "No! Maggie, please! I won't do it again! Please!" Blair's voice was even more panicked than Simon's and Jim jumped the last four steps and raced to Blair's room. He flung open the French doors and stopped dead, his mouth dropping open. Simon held onto Blair's legs as the younger man tried to escape out of his window and onto the fire escape. "Shit," Jim whispered. "Don't just stand there, Ellison! He's stronger than he looks!" Simon tried to shift his hold and Blair nearly got away from him. The near escape broke Jim out of the spell that held him in place and he moved swiftly to help Simon pull his partner back into the window. The extra set of hands brought another scream from Blair and more pleas as he fought even harder. But it was no use. The two larger men had a good hold on him and together they pulled him back inside. As they lowered him to the floor, Jim pulled Blair tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around him. Blair turned pleading eyes to him and Jim nearly choked at the despair he saw in them. "No! Don't lock me in the attic again, please! Please, Sarah, tell her not to lock me in there again! I'll die up there like Mama did! I swear, I won't disobey again. I won't go back there, I promise. I just wanted a friend, that's all! Please!" "Blair!" Jim turned him in his arms so that he could look at his Guide straight on and then he shook him. "Blair, wake up, Chief. Snap out of it." For a moment, Jim thought that he saw recognition in the blue eyes, but his hopes crashed when Blair spoke again. "Douglas! Please, help me." "Shit! Blair, I'm not Douglas. You're not Van. Come on, Chief, come back from there!" "'Chief.'" The man in his arms smiled. "You always call me that." "Blair?" Jim was puzzled. "Is that you?" "Douglas, can you take me to the train station now?" Jim closed his eyes. He felt a hand on his shoulder and opened them to stare at Simon, searching for ideas in the dark brown eyes. Simon shook his head. Jim turned his attention back to his Guide and said the only thing he could think of that might end the nightmare. "Yeah, Van. You rest now and I'll take you to the station." "Okay." Blair's hand closed over Jim's and pulled it from his shoulder to his chest, just above his heart. Jim felt the pounding rhythm begin to slow. "Douglas, thank you for being my friend." "You're welcome, Bl--Van." Blair relaxed in his arms and his eyes drifted shut. Jim shifted him again to keep him from falling backward onto the floor. He waited then until Blair's breathing pattern was one of deep sleep before he tried to get up. Simon helped him rise with Blair in his arms and he gently placed his burden back into bed and pulled the covers over him. "Well, I guess I'm staying in here too," Jim whispered. "I don't think you should have done that, Jim. Gone along with him like that." Jim shrugged. "What else could I do?" It was Simon's turn to shrug. "Anyway, what did you get out of that?" Simon nodded toward the sleeping figure on the bed. "I think they caught him sneaking out to see Dawson. Blair was reading earlier and found out that Van had been locked in the attic for talking to Dawson after Sarah told him to stay away from him. God, Simon, the longer this goes on, the more I start thinking about Blair and Van Radcliff being the same person and it's making me madder than hell." "Which is probably not helping a damn thing, Jim." Jim rubbed his eyes with one hand. "I know." "I saw those diaries on the table. Did he get far enough to find out what happened when they caught him sneaking out?" "I wouldn't think so. I do think that reading about the first incident brought this on. Anyway, we haven't found much of any use, in my opinion, in those books. Just a lot of really disgusting things that I would have been happier not knowing and I was reading one of the earlier ones. Blair had one of the later ones and was about a year away from the murders when---you know." Jim gestured at the bruises on his friend's face, unable to even talk about it. "I don't want to look at them anymore, truth be known." "Okay, you stay in here and I'll go look at those books. I want to see what, if anything, happened next just in case we have to deal with it tonight." "Simon, you should go on to sleep. I'd still like you to stay in here. I'll take the floor. If I'm in here, nothing else will happen." "Jim, I don't really think that either of us is going to get any sleep tonight. Do you?" Jim's short laugh held no humor. "No. I had a damn nightmare myself before I heard you call me. I really don't want to close my eyes at all right now." "Me either. I'm going to get those books. The least I can do is help you look for some answers while we sit up all night." "You read those books and this might not be the only night's sleep you lose, Simon. Some of that stuff is pretty sick and I honestly don't think there are any answers in them." "I'll risk it. I don't ever want to see that kind of fear and pain on that kid's face again. I want to help and to do that, I have to know what I'm going to be dealing with." Simon walked out of the room then and Jim simply watched him go, amazed by and thankful for the friends he and Blair had. *In this lifetime.* The words floated through his thoughts, unwanted and unbidden. ___________________________________________________________ To Part 4...