By JudyL

April 4, 2003

This story continues after the last episode in Black Panther Production's Cascade Virtual Tales series, Season 7 called "Spare Parts Redux" by Robin, It also takes place after my stories, "Truth Time" and "Joined Soul and Body."

Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but I love playing in their universe too much to quit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim glanced at his roommate again as they climbed into his truck to head to the Cascade PD.

Blair saw the look. "What?" he asked buckling his seatbelt.

"Are you okay with Naomi leaving?" Jim asked starting the truck and pulling out of the garage.

"Well, yeah. It’s been great having her around for the last 2 weeks, but…"

"But your glad she’s leaving," Jim finished the sentence.

Blair grinned, "You, too?"

"Don’t get me wrong, Chief. Your mom is great, and I’ve really enjoyed her company the last 2 weeks, but …"

"It gets old fast," Blair finished for him. He settled more comfortably into his seat, thinking about the last few weeks. Naomi had come into town for a visit and ended up helping to solve an auto theft ring. She had "found" Jim’s Sweetheart, followed the thieves, hot-wired the truck and delivered it back to the station. Blair hadn’t known whether to strangle her or hug her.

She’d stayed much longer than usual, and they had finally convinced her that all was forgiven. Blair thought Naomi had even been able to forgive herself for the mess surrounding his dissertation. He and Jim had made it very clear that the past was past and it was time to move on.

Overall the last two weeks had been enjoyable. Yesterday, Naomi had announced that she had to leave. Blair was more surprised that she had stayed as long as she had.

"I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did, truthfully. I can probably count on one hand the times she’s stayed in one place for more than a month." Blair shook his head, a rueful grin tugging at his lips. No, he was fine with his mom’s decision to "venture forth."

***

They rode up to the sixth floor in companionable silence. Jim sniffed the air. "Simon’s brewing that new coffee his cousin sent last week."

"The one he won’t share with us?" Blair asked, an idea coming into focus. Jim nodded. "Follow my lead, Jim."

"What are you planning, Chief?" Jim eyed his Guide suspiciously.

"You want some of that coffee?" Jim nodded. "Follow my lead." Blair grinned and Jim could swear a yellow feather was peeking out of his mouth.

They entered the bullpen and sat at their respective desks. Jim turned on his computer and started to work on the case files in his In-box. He faintly acknowledged the door to Captain Bank’s office as it opened and the smell of the new coffee wafted into the bullpen. Blair suddenly dropped his head onto his desk.

"Chief? What’s wrong?" Jim asked alarmed, he scooted his chair over to lay a hand on his partner’s shoulder.

Simon absorbed the tableau of Jim comforting Blair and his stomach knotted up. What was going on with the kid now? "Ellison! Sandburg! My office!" he said waiting by the door.

"Blair?" Jim said tentatively, not sure what was going on. Sandburg sighed and pushed his chair away from the desk as he stood. He nodded dejectedly and followed Jim slowly towards Simon’s office. His shoulders were hunched and his chin almost touched his chest.

Simon backed into the office as Jim reached the door. "What’s wrong with the kid?" he whispered.

"Naomi," Blair said sentinel soft. Jim straightened slightly looking quickly at Blair to hide the grin that tried to form on his face.

"Well, Simon, Naomi left today." Jim said, trying to keep a straight face.

Simon, fortunately, was watching Sandburg shuffle into the office and plop down in one of the leather armchairs in front of Simon’s desk. He folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them. "What’s up, Captain?" he asked in a quiet, respectful voice.

This was too much for Jim. He turned quickly toward the window and folded his arms across his chest, trying to keep from laughing out loud.

Simon frowned. Sandburg hardly ever called him Captain. Only when he was troubled, in trouble or trying to get something from the older man. Banks just wasn’t sure which situation applied here. He turned back to refill his coffee cup and sighed. Simon pulled out two more cups and filled them as well. His cousin had been rather stingy with this brew, something about supply and demand. Simon had hoped to treasure every drop himself. Yeah, it’s selfish, but dammit, I’m the Captain!

He took the two fresh mugs in hand and walked to the front of his desk, offering one to Sandburg’s bowed head. Blair took the cup and raised wide, innocent, and grateful eyes to his Captain.

"Gee. Thanks, Simon," Blair said sincerely, taking a taste of the forbidden coffee.

Simon swallowed a grin and grunted "You’re welcome." He closed the distance between the desk and Ellison. "Benedict Arnold," he whispered sentinel soft, setting the cup on the table beside Jim. He watched amused as Jim’s shoulders shook and the man refused to turn around. He did however quickly grab the offered coffee cup. Banks shook his head. He could see Jim’s reflection in the window glass. The biggest, sloppiest, shit-eatingist grin plastered all over his face.

"Did you two have something to report to me?" Simon growled in his best grizzly impersonation.

Blair’s brow furrowed with that innocent confused look. "You called us in, Captain."

"OUT!" Simon pointed at the door. "Get out and get to work! And you’d better not bring those mugs back dirty!"

Blair and Jim made it to the door at about the same time, coffee cups securely in hand. "Thanks, Simon," Blair called out cheerfully.

"Yeah, thanks, Simon," Jim echoed with a chuckle.

Simon pushed the door closed behind them and turned to lean on it so no one in the bullpen could see the huge smile that spread across his face.

Jim jerked up and tried to rise out of his bed in one motion. His sheet tangled around his legs and he fell to his knees on the floor. Cursing, he kicked his way free and took the stairs two at a time. He barely restrained himself as he opened the doors to Blair’s bedroom, keeping them from crashing open.

The Sentinel took a deep breath of relief. He backed up against the wall by the door and slid down it. Pulling his knees up, he wrapped his arms around them and rested his head on his knees. Jim listened to the sound of his Guide sleeping for some time before it lulled him into a restless slumber.

Blair’s eyes popped open and he tried to figure out what had wakened him. His dreams had been strange, but unrecallable. Deciding he wasn’t going to get back to sleep, he pushed himself up off the mattress and turned toward the alarm clock to see how early it was. They had the weekend off and Blair had hoped to sleep in for once.

6:46am beamed dimly from the digital clock on the nightstand. Blair froze and did a double take as he realized his friend was in his room. Asleep, but sitting on the floor. Blair’s heart started to race. Oh, man, this cannot be good.

The Guide eased out of bed and knelt down beside his Sentinel, not wanting to scare Jim. "Hey, Jim, buddy, time to wake up," he said just barely above sentinel range.

Jim’s head lifted right away, his eyes wide and nostrils flared, taking in the surroundings. "Easy, Jim, it’s just me, man." Blair placed a hand on Jim’s arm and sat tailor-style on the floor beside him. "You want to tell me why you’re camped out on my floor?" Concerned blue eyes searched out icy blue.

"I had a vision," Jim said softly, returning the look, fear met concern.

"Tell me," Blair encouraged. They both knew better by now than to ignore these visions.

"I woke in the jungle and heard the wolf howl, but it was in pain," Jim spoke quietly, but quickly, not wanting to relive the anguish of the vision. "I ran in the direction of the cry and called out for you, but couldn’t pick up anything with my senses. Finally, the panther showed up and we continued looking together. We heard the cry again and the panther slipped through some tangled brush, but I couldn’t get past it. Everything I did just made it more difficult. And then I woke up…. and came down here."

Jim rubbed his face with both hands, grateful for the outwardly calm support of his Guide. He could hear Blair’s heart beating faster. Blair shifted his hand from Jim’s arm to his shoulder, giving it a good squeeze.

"Come on, get up and take a shower. It looks like we’re going into the office today after all," Blair stood up and offered Jim a hand.

Taking it and rising with his friend’s help, Jim looked into Blair’s eyes. "Why?"

"We need to tell Simon and the others. You know what happened the last time we ignored your visions." Blair obviously meant Alex. Jim shuddered.

"You mean the last time I ignored them," Jim contradicted, that part of their past still had sensitive spots that were easily bruised.

"No, Jim, we’re past the blame, remember? We learned from that incident and now we know we can’t just ignore these visions. That’s why we have to let the others know."

Jim exhaled, agreeing, but he shook his head. "We can’t do this at the office, though."

"Why not?"

"Well, if you remember, most everyone is on light duty this weekend. They won’t even be in the office unless something comes up. It’s just Joel and Megan once they roll in around, what 9am?"

The clock mocked them. 6:59am. Blair nodded. "Take your shower, Jim. I’ll call the others. Have them come over here."

Jim squeezed Blair’s shoulder as they exited the room. "Thanks." Blair nodded, mumbling about not ever getting to sleep in again. Jim grinned, feeling a little more in control. The Major Crimes team could handle anything if they were in it together.

Blair and Jim had breakfast ready for everyone by the time they started to arrive 45 minutes later. Blair had simply asked each of them to come over, "it’s important," and the tone of his voice had brooked no questions.

Now they all sat around the living room with breakfast in hand, waiting somewhat patiently for an explanation. Jim cleared his throat and had all eyes on him immediately. He grinned and glanced at Blair who just nodded.

"First, I want to thank you all for dropping your plans and coming over here without any explanation. You’re the best friends we could ask for. Heaven knows you’ve put up with a lot of my shit in the past…"

"Hey, I’ve contributed my share of shit too, Jim!" Blair interrupted, causing their friends to laugh. The tension in the room eased a bit.

"Yeah, Chief, we know that," Ellison grinned at the Guide again and continued. "You all remember the, ah… incident with Alex Barnes," Jim still wasn’t quite sure how to refer to that time. Their friends nodded grimly, casting worried glances at Sandburg.

"Well, what you all don’t know is that I was having visions before that happened." He paused, waiting to see what kind of response he would get. Simon and Megan already knew. Joel, Rafe and H looked at him expectantly.

"What kind of visions, Jim?" Joel asked encouragingly. This sentinel stuff, as they all referred to it, certainly wasn’t boring.

Jim took a deep breath and plunged in, describing the nightmare he still relived sometimes at night. "So, we’ve learned," he continued, waving his hand at Blair, "to pay attention when one of us has these visions."

"Wait," Megan interrupted, "I thought you were the only one having visions, Jim."

Blair flushed. "No, ah, I’ve had a few myself. The thing is, they are usually pretty vague. I mean, even if I’d known about Jim’s vision of the wolf dying, who could have guessed when and how Alex would have killed me." He snapped his jaw shut suddenly and looked apologetically at Jim.

The Sentinel shrugged. "You’re right, the vision only showed that you were in danger, it certainly didn’t show you being drowned."

H sat forward in his chair. "So, what was this vision you had last night? That is why you called us all here, right?"

Jim nodded and told them about his latest nightmare. "I couldn't find him," he added in despair. Blair laid a hand on Jim's arm.

Rafe frowned, opened his mouth to say something then thought better of it.

"What is it, Rafe?" Blair asked. "It's ok to ask, that's why we called you guys, we want your help. We need your help."

Rafe looked at Blair for a long minute. "I just want to make sure I understand this right. This wolf… it's you?"

The Guide nodded, settling into teacher mode. "The wolf is my spirit animal. Jim's is a black panther." He paused, pretty sure the team wasn't ready to hear about their own spirit animals that both he and Jim had seen. "They help us connect with our spiritual sides, sometimes guiding us, other times warning of danger, physical and spiritual."

"Somehow I think just being psychic might have been a whole lot easier, Jim," Megan said jokingly, recalling the early days when she thought his gift was just a sixth sense.

"But no where near as interesting, eh, mate?" Jim bantered back.

"I hate to be a wet blanket," Joel interrupted, "but Megan and I need to get to the office and we haven't figured out what to do about this vision yet."

Everyone sighed, but no one spoke. Blair looked around and realized he was going to have to be the one who said it.

"I think the only reasonable interpretation is that I may find myself in a situation in the near future. Maybe injured or… held hostage, but in some way out of reach." Blair watched Jim for a reaction and wasn't disappointed.

"Over my dead body," Jim growled getting up to pace in front of the window.

"Calm down, Jim," Simon said, standing as well. "Sandburg called this little meeting so we could all be aware of the danger. Now we have to keep calm and keep our wits about us."

"If Sandy's in danger, Jim," Megan added, "you know we're all going to do whatever it takes to keep him safe."

Jim turned to look at their friends, fierce determination, concern, and even love shone back at him. He took at deep breath and exhaled slowly, relaxing his shoulders. The Sentinel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I know we can count on you," he moved back to his spot on the couch and sat down, resting his arms on his knees as he looked down at his hands. "This vision scared the hell out of me, though. It felt too much like before."

Blair casually moved his leg until it rested against Jim's; knowing his Sentinel needed his touch. "Look, Jim, we'll set up some guidelines, rules, if you like. If we're all on guard, and watching for potential trouble, we'll be prepared. Together," Blair smiled sweeping the room to catch everyone's eye, "we can handle this."

Their friends nodded, making sounds of agreement and getting another warm smile out of the Sentinel.

"Okay, people," Simon said, taking over, "Joel, you and Megan need to go. We'll stay and sketch out a plan and let you know what's going on later today."

Taggart and Connor stood, nodding. They both made eye contact with Jim and Blair before they left, a silent promise to help however they could.

Simon, Henri and Rafe, started throwing questions at the pair to try and narrow down the source of the danger to Blair.

"Has something come up with one of the cases you've been working on?" Simon asked.

Blair grabbed the pen and pad of paper he had placed on the coffee table earlier and started taking notes. He wanted to have all the information they came up with handy, just in case.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that afternoon, Blair looked at the list he had written down.

That’s always a favorite, Blair thought grimly. And of course the really difficult one.

He and Jim had been racking their brains all day trying to answer the questions on the list. As far as they knew, their current cases did not pose any danger specifically to Blair.

Joel was running a search to see if anybody had been released or was due to be released from prison or a psychiatric ward that might have it in for Jim or Blair or both.

Megan was checking to see if anyone who was supposed to be behind bars had managed to escape recently.

And of course, they knew there were still Patriots out there. All at the beck and call of Garrett Kincaide. Even from behind prison walls.

Blair stretched where he sat on the couch, reaching high over his head until his bones popped. He stood and dropped the list on the table, deciding that Jim had had enough time to check the city out four times over, the Guide joined his partner on the balcony.

Ellison was indeed scanning the city below. His eyes and ears picking up trouble spots all over, but none that seemed to threaten him and his. The touch on his arm brought the Sentinel back. He turned and met the weary gaze of his Guide.

"Come inside, Jim. This isn't going to do any good. You're just going to wear yourself out." Blair tugged gently on Jim's sleeve and his partner followed him into the loft.

They had finally agreed, over Jim's strong protestations, that life should go on pretty much as normal. Jim and Blair would stay home this weekend, and head into work Monday morning. Blair agreed to have someone with him at all times. And, of course, everyone would keep their eyes and ears open for any signs of trouble. It was going to be a long weekend.

Blair was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, but couldn’t seem to wake up. He was in a long, brightly lit hall. As he walked along, the hall turned, there were no doors. The hall continued on for some time, turning periodically. Blair began to think he was trapped in some kind of maze. The air seemed oppressive and something or someone seemed to be watching him.

Finally the hallway ended with a closed door. Blair opened it and went through. He found himself in a warehouse of some sort. The edges were blurry, but in the center of the floor sat someone in a chair. As Blair moved closer, he gasped. The person in the chair was obviously dead, burned beyond recognition, the mouth forever open in a grotesque scream.

"Oh, my God!" Blair screamed. "No! No!" He stumbled back, trying to deny the sight before him.

Jim bolted up out of bed.

"Oh, my God!" He heard Blair scream. "No! No!"

Blair! Jim grabbed his gun from the nightstand and practically flew downstairs. He stopped just outside his partner’s room to extend his senses. All he could detect was his roommate’s accelerated heartbeat. Jim lowered his gun and entered the room. Blair was tossing and turning, caught in a nightmare.

Placing the gun on the table by Blair’s bed, Jim sat beside him and smoothed the wild curls back off his face. The Sentinel froze, suddenly caught up in a vision.

Something touched his forehead and Blair jerked awake, sweating and trying to dispel the horrors of his dream. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, but a hand pressed against his forehead held him down.

"Uh, Jim?" he said, confused, it was still dark and he couldn’t see much in the room, but he recognized the shape of his partner sitting on his bed. "Jim?" he said again, clutching at Jim’s arm. "Come on, man. If you’re zoning, this is not the time." Blair sighed, trying to get his own emotions under control so he could help his Sentinel.

"Okay, Jim, concentrate on my voice and follow it back to me. Come on, Jim, I need you to come back." He continued the litany even as he felt the arm he gripped loosen. "Jim? Are you okay?" Blair asked as he was finally able to sit up. He changed his hold from Jim’s arm to his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

"Blair?" Jim asked fuzzily.

"Yeah, man, I’m right here."

"Oh, God!" Jim gasped, falling forward limply. Blair caught him in a hug, alarmed by the uncontrolled shudders ripping through his friend’s body. Jim pressed his hand against Blair’s chest, trying to prove to himself that his friend was okay.

"Jim! God, what's wrong? Take it easy, breathe, man, just breathe." He massaged Jim’s back with one hand and reached to feel for his pulse with the other. Ellison’s heart was racing and Blair worried that maybe his friend was having a heart attack. "Jim, talk to me, buddy. You’re scaring me."

Jim focused on Blair’s voice. The vision had totally freaked him out and he couldn’t quite tell what was real and what was imagined. He could feel Blair’s heart against his hand, pounding in fear. Jim raised his head slightly, listening to his Guide’s voice. He’s alive! It was just a dream. Jim felt two hands cup his face and lift it, he tried to open his eyes.

Blair lifted Jim’s face. "Come on, Jim. I’m right here, that’s right. Open those baby blues for me." Jim’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto Blair’s stormy blue eyes.

"Chief?" he could feel the heartbeat of his Guide, hear his voice, see his eyes. He took a deep breath and could smell Blair’s fear. Alive! Jim lifted his hand to push back the wild curls blocking his view of the face he needed to see.

"Jim? What’s going on, Jim? Talk to me," Blair grabbed both of Jim’s hands, trying to get him to focus. Is he zoning? It didn’t seem like a zone. "Jim!"

Ellison blinked hard and finally Blair saw something other than fear in the blue eyes. "Oh, God, Chief! I can’t do this again." Jim’s shoulders slumped and he hung his head, but he seemed to have control again.

"Spit it out, Jim, I’m a little confused right now, not to mention a bit freaked out." He squeezed the hands he held gently, to help keep the man focused on the here and now.

Jim nodded and took another deep, ragged breath. "I heard you cry out and came rushing down here expecting an intruder."

Blair nodded. "I was having a nightmare," he shuddered remembering it all too vividly.

"There wasn’t anyone else here, obviously, so I sat down to try and wake you without scaring the shit out of you. As soon as I touched you, I was pulled into a vision." Jim stood abruptly and started pacing the narrow space from the door to the window. "It was more like a nightmare though. So vivid and real!"

"Tell me about it," Blair urged quietly, pulling his pillow into his lap and hugging it to him. Somehow he knew what Jim was going to describe.

Jim told him about the warehouse and the burnt corpse. Blair nodded. "That’s what my nightmare was," he commented softly. Jim stared at him for a second, then sat back down on the bed.

"I saw your coat and your hair. I saw the earrings in your ear." Anxious eyes sought out troubled ones. "It was you." Jim whispered, a sob catching in his throat.

Blair shook his head, frowning. "I didn’t get that, Jim. I was freaked by the sight of the burned body, but I didn’t get the impression that it was me."

"But the clues…" Jim said, wanting to believe his Guide.

"Jim, in case you haven’t noticed," Blair pulled his hair back exposing his ear. "I haven’t worn earrings since before the Academy. The holes have healed over, man."

The Sentinel almost zoned on the sight of the whole ear lobe. He could see tiny scars where earrings used to live, but to the naked eye, the ear seemed whole. Jim breathed a sigh of relief. His world falling back into place.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Blair yawned and looked at the clock. 2:05am.

"You want some tea?" the Guide asked patting Jim on the shoulder as he pushed up off the bed and headed out to the kitchen.

"Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to sleep for a while," Jim answered following his friend. He sat on a stool at the kitchen island watching Blair as he set the water to boil.

Blair turned and grinned at Jim. "I don’t think we should call the gang this early." Jim shook his head.

"We have that meeting later anyway, we can tell them then." Jim idly traced the edge of one of the tiles with his finger. "It’s been almost a week since the last one. Why now all of a sudden?"

Blair shook his head. "I don’t know. But I’m sure getting tired of it."

"Me, too."

The silence around the table was deafening. Jim had just finished telling them about this latest vision and now sat staring at his hands folded on the table.

Blair looked around the table and saw the shock in the faces of his friends. Jim had just given them the facts and they had jumped to the same conclusion the Sentinel had. "Okay, look guys," Blair said, standing to give them all a clear view. "I do not have any piercings in my ears anymore. See?" He pulled back his hair and turned slowly so all could see.

"I saw the same thing Jim did in my nightmare and I don’t believe it was me in that chair. Someone might have gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like me, but it wasn’t me."

The sureness of his statement seemed to get through to a few of them. Simon cleared his throat.

"We still don’t know anything. None of our efforts have turned up any solid leads. There’s not a whisper on the streets about a vendetta or a hit. All this vision does is reinforce our need to be careful."

"Actually, Simon, I think it does a little more than that," Blair said, pushing one hand through his thick hair as he sat back down. "I’m thinking it’s more of a warning. I’m convinced that if this happens, the circumstantial evidence will lead you to believe I’m dead. But once the DNA results come back, you’ll see it’s a trick. That body is not me. But just think what that would do to Jim, to all of you, if you thought I was dead," he paused again, glancing apologetically around the table at his dear friends. "The DNA tests would take a few days, that would have given the perp time to get out of town, hide any trace of where he’d taken me. Then," he shrugged, "who knows what?"

"Why go through the elaborate hoax?" Simon asked, chewing on his unlit cigar.

"You know," Rafe said hesitantly, "if someone is setting this up, then it must be someone from at least two years ago, right? I mean, the vision showed the earrings, vividly from what Jim said… they were a memorable part of it."

"Yeah," Jim said, straightening in his chair. "That might help narrow down our suspects."

Joel shook his head. "That's still three years worth of low lifes to dig through."

"We don't have enough information yet," Blair said with a sigh, slumping back into his chair.

Simon cleared his throat. "Well, we'll just keep doing what we've been doing. You, Sandburg, don't go anywhere without a shadow. And everyone else keep your eyes and ears open. Be sure to report anything, and I mean anything that may be relevant." He picked up the files they'd already discussed and passed them to Joel. "Everyone get back to work."

He caught Jim's eye and shook his head, Jim touched Blair's arm as he started to stand and nodded toward Simon. Blair relaxed back into his chair.

Once the others had left, Simon refilled his coffee cup and sat down across from the Sentinel and his Guide. He had to think of them that way when they were discussing the visions, otherwise things just got too weird.

He took a good look at the two men sitting across from him. Dark circles under the eyes and frown lines on the forehead spoke of a deep exhaustion. Simon knew how they felt. He hadn't been sleeping very well since this whole thing began either.

"You two go home. You look like hell."

"Captain…"

"Naw, Simon…"

Banks held up his hands. "You're not going to do anyone any good if you fall over from exhaustion. Go home, now." He pinned them both with dark brown eyes. They nodded slowly and stood to leave. Simon felt a small grin trying to form on his lips. "Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning."

The detectives nodded and headed out into the bullpen. Blair collected his pack and jacket, while Jim shut off his computer and grabbed his coat. They walked side by side out the door almost colliding with a maintenance man pushing a garbage trolley.

"Sorry, man," Blair said as Jim pulled him out of the way.

"No problem," the man grunted, ducking his head and putting more effort into pushing the cart down the hall.

Jim and Blair walked onto the elevator and didn't see the man turn to watch them as the doors closed. His eyes narrowed briefly before he returned to pushing the cart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blair stood up at his desk and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back. They'd been at the office all day going over old case files. H had gone and gotten lunch for everyone sometime around noon, but other than that quick meal and a few trips to the coffee maker, no one had taken a break.

"Hey, Jim, I've got to go down to records to get some files, you need anything?" Blair asked, moving to the front of his desk.

"Naw," Jim said waving a hand at the pile on the corner. "I haven't made it through all of these yet." He sighed. "I can't believe we put this many bad guys away in only three years, Chief."

Blair grinned. "My brains and your brawn, they never had a chance, big guy."

The big guy chuckled, then went back to studying the file he held.

"Any body else need something from Records?" Blair asked, walking toward the door.

Megan and Rafe spoke up and Blair got the information he needed from them then headed to the elevator. As he exited the car, he perused the list of files he wanted and didn't see the maintenance man sweeping the floor down the hall.

----

The maintenance man tugged his baseball cap down and watched Sandburg out of the corner of his eye. He smiled and waited.

----

Blair straightened the stack of files and made sure he had a good hold of them. "Thanks, Miles," he said turning to leave Records.

"No problem, Blair," the officer replied, he went back to the file room as Blair pushed the door open to leave.

Blair juggled the files and pushed the button to call the elevator, when the doors opened he hopped on and pushed the sixth floor button.

"Hold the elevator," he heard and quickly hit the 'open door' button. A maintenance guy pushed his garbage cart onto the elevator and stood on the other side from Blair. "Thanks," he said.

Blair pushed the 'close door' button. "Sure, what floor?" he asked, as the doors closed. He started to look up and was surprised when the cart bashed into him, hard enough to knock him against the wall of the car. He staggered, grabbing the back of his head where it had hit the wall. "What?!" Blair looked up at the guy in time to see the fist that connected solidly with his face.

Darkness tried to take over. Blair doubled over and felt a hand help him head first into the cart. He struggled to get up and was rewarded with another fist to the side of his head. The darkness won.

The maintenance man grinned. "Gotcha, punk." He rearranged a few trash bags to cover up his prize and hit the button for the garage. He rolled the cart out to a van and opened the back doors. A ramp was lowered and the cart and Sandburg were pushed up into the van. The man climbed up behind the cart, looked around for a second, then closed the doors. Two minutes later the van drove calmly out of the Cascade Police Garage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jim!" Megan yelled, pushing her chair back from her desk as she quickly stood and headed to Ellison's desk with a printout clutched in her hands.

"What is it, Connor?" Jim asked, standing as he recognized the intensity in the Inspector's voice. The rest of the bullpen got quiet and migrated that direction as well.

"Warren Chapel ring a bell?" she asked waving the sheet at him.

Jim snatched the paper from her. "Yeah," he snarled reading the report.

"He escaped from the psycho ward two days ago!" Megan slammed her fist down on Sandburg's desk. "They just now put the information on the wire."

Simon came out of his office. "What's going on?"

Jim abruptly raised his head from the printout and looked around the bullpen.

"Warren Chapel's loose, Simon," Joel answered. "You remember? The psycho who kidnapped Cassie and Blair."

"Where's Blair?" Jim asked, moving out from behind his desk.

"He went to Records a little while ago," Rafe reminded him, his face paled as he looked at his watch. "Th.. That was over half an hour ago."

Simon yelled as he ran after Jim. "Seal off the building."

Jim flew down the stairs, not waiting for the elevator. Simon was close on his heels. They reached Records and burst in, startling Miles and another officer.

"Sir?" Miles said.

"Sandburg? Have you seen Blair Sandburg?" Jim growled.

Miles nodded. "Yeah he was here…" he looked at the log book that was signed for any requisitioned files, "about 30 minutes ago. Got what he needed and left."

"Did you see anyone else down here?" Banks asked watching Jim head back out to the hall.

"No, Sir. He left and I went back to filing."

Banks nodded and strode out to Ellison. "You getting anything?"

Jim shook his head. Simon placed a hand on his arm as he'd seen Blair do many times to focus the Sentinel. "Breath, Jim. Now do what you do, nice and easy."

The Sentinel nodded, took a deep breath and searched the area with his eyes, he didn't see anything out of place. He took another breath, but this time it was through his nose, to try and smell out a clue. "He got on the elevator."

Just then, Megan and Joel came pounding down the stairs. "The elevator is locked off on the garage level, Simon!" Joel said. He and Megan continued down the flight of stairs followed closely by Jim and Simon.

The elevator was indeed locked on the garage floor. Files were spilled on the floor of the car. Megan looked at them, without touching anything. "I asked Sandy to get some of these for me." She looked up into icy blue eyes.

Jim inhaled again. He could smell Sandburg's shampoo and blood. Lord knew he should be able to recognize that by now. "Blair was here, he's been hurt, I smell blood."

"Damn!" Simon said. "Joel, get on the monitors, maybe they picked something up. Megan, get an APB out on Chapel and Sandburg. And let everyone know what's going on." He turned back to Jim. "You are going to work with me," he said firmly, "and we are going to find him. You hear me?"

"Yeah, Simon," Jim replied, shaking himself out of his fugue. The smell of Blair's blood always tended to send him into a zone. Fortunately, there wasn't a lot of it, probably just a small cut. He held onto that thought as he turned to evaluate the elevator again.

Jim blocked out the things he already knew. Sandburg's presence was a given, who else had been in the car? He could smell cleaning fluid and garbage and something else. No, somebody else. Chapel!

"I don't know why, Simon, but I recognize Chapel's scent. I know it's been a few years, but Blair's always telling me that smell is one of the strongest memory triggers."

"Okay, anything else?"

Jim moved out of the elevator, trying to follow the scent of Blair and Chapel. He made it over to a spot about 30 feet from the elevators and lost it. He shook his head. "They must have gotten into a car or something. The scent sort of tapers off here." He motioned to the area in front of him.

"Can you…" Simon's phone rang. He grimaced and opened it. "Banks!"

"Simon, I ran the video of the garage starting about 40 minutes ago. There's not much, but we did see a maintenance man roll a garbage cart out of the elevator and into a white van."

"That's gotta be him, Simon!" Jim said listening to the conversation.

Joel heard Ellison in the background. "Well, maybe Jim should come up and see it, cause we can't tell much with our eyes."

"We're on our way, send someone down to secure this area for forensics," Banks said once again following Ellison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warren Chapel carried his captive over his shoulder into the warehouse. Things were going just as he'd planned. Sandburg groaned and started to struggle. Chapel dropped him off his shoulder and as Blair's feet hit the ground, shoved him into the wooden crate. Blair groaned again, losing his fight back to consciousness as his head impacted the crate.

Chapel held his prisoner up by his shirt for a second then let him go. Blair collapsed bonelessly to the floor. The mad man thought for a second, then sneered. He roughly pulled the flannel shirt off of the unconscious man and dropped it on the floor beside the crate leaving Blair only the short sleeve t-shirt he'd worn underneath. He then hauled his burden back up and onto his shoulder.

His other props were already waiting. The metal chair, bolted to the floor of the warehouse, received Blair's unconscious body seconds later. Chapel secured him with the manacles on the chair's arms and legs, then went to check on his other guest.

The young man was still sleeping on the floor where Chapel had dumped him several hours ago. A toe to the ribs elicited a groan that indicated the man was returning to consciousness.

"Good, perfect," Chapel gloated. He uncovered his tools on the table next to the chair and slapped Sandburg none too gently on the cheek. "Rise and shine, curly."

Blair tried to ignore the stinging slaps to his face, the darkness was much more compelling, but eventually his mind rebelled at the mistreatment and his eyes blinked open.

"Hello there," Chapel said amiably.

Blair squinted, then blinked to clear his vision. "Chapel? Warren Chapel?"

"Bingo! You got it in one. Unfortunately, I don't think you're gonna like your prize." Chapel smiled and Blair flinched at the hate he saw.

Chapel hadn't changed much, a few more lines in the face, maybe a little heavier, but the sickness of his mind still shone in his eyes. The Guide prayed. Please find me, Jim!

As if he had read his mind, Chapel gave Blair one more "friendly" slap to the cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be sure your partner finds you. Or what's left of you, anyway." He laughed at his own joke.

Blair swallowed, but couldn't really think of anything to say. Chapel grabbed something off the table beside the chair.

"Now we don't have much time. I have a schedule you know." He grabbed Blair's chin and forced his mouth open with the fingers of the same hand. His other hand held a pair of pliers.

"Aaaauooo" Blair cried pulling his head back and attempting to dislodge Chapel's hand. The cold pliers hit him in the temple, dimming his sight once again. Chapel firmed up his grip on Blair's lower jaw and quickly closed the pliers around a lower molar.

Sandburg barely managed to scream before he passed out. Chapel laughed and tossed the tooth behind him. He unshackled the detective and carried him over to the truck he had waiting. Wrists and ankles were bound, and a gag was inserted. He left the back open though so the young man could witness the show. Chapel knew he would wake in time.

He picked up his other guest and shackled him to the chair. He grabbed the nearby can and doused the man with gasoline. Chapel picked up the matchbook on the table and paused to make sure everything was done. He had pulled this man's same molar several hours ago and had the tooth in his pocket. Sandburg hadn't been wearing a watch… The earrings!

"Damn! Almost missed that." He shook his head, he'd been very careful to pierce this man's ear right after he took the tooth. Now he just needed to transfer Sandburg's earrings to the other man's ear.

Chapel grasped Blair's hair and turned his head to give clear access to his ear. "NO!" They were gone, no earrings, no holes at all. "Damn, punk!" He slammed Sandburg's head against the truck floor. "Oh, well," he said turning back to the business at hand. "We'll be long gone before they realize it's not you anyway."

Blair groaned as his head hit metal. He couldn't recall how many times Chapel had rammed his head into something, but according to the headache, it must have been about a hundred. Blair blinked and his vision cleared enough for him to see Chapel light a match. The psycho looked over at the soft gasp from the truck and sneered as he flicked the match at the poor man in the chair.

"NOOOOO!" Blair screamed through his gag, struggling to get up as the man burst into flames, coming awake to an inferno that did not kill him quickly.

Chapel walked toward the truck and pulled the door down while Blair cried and bucked in an attempt to get free. Chapel's smile never left his face as the door blocked Blair's view of the burning man. He could still hear screams as the truck started up and began to move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ellison sat staring at the video as he replayed it for the sixth time. All he’d been able to determine was that it had indeed been Warren Chapel pushing the cart. Blair and Chapel had been caught getting onto the elevator outside of Records and only Chapel had exited into the garage.

Jim slammed his fist down on the table. Blair! Where are you? The image of the burnt corpse in the warehouse flashed in his mind. "NO!" He stood and strode out into the bullpen. Rafe was on the phone, but everyone else was out tracking down informants and hoping to catch a break. He could hear Simon in his office, also on the phone. Jim went over to his desk and flopped into the chair. He found himself staring at the coat rack, his coat snugged up against Sandburg’s. That’s how it was supposed to be, the Guide and the Sentinel, together.

Jim bolted upright in his chair. Sandburg’s jacket! The one he’d seen in the vision. He grabbed it off the rack and raced into Simon’s office. "Simon!"

The Captain had just hung up the phone and was about to chastise his visitor for not knocking when he realized who it was. "Jim? Did you find something?"

"It’s Blair’s jacket, Simon. The one in the vision," he shook the jacket in his hand. Somehow the fact that it was here and not with Blair gave the vision less weight.

Simon nodded. Oh, man, he’s losing it. "Okay, Jim, I guess that’s a good thing," he replied, not knowing why it was so important to Ellison.

"Simon," Jim said, as if speaking to a very slow child, "it’s the jacket I saw in the vision. If it’s here, it can’t be at the warehouse. We changed what I saw somehow. That’s got to mean something." Jim nodded, looking at the jacket. "It’s a good thing." Where are you, Blair?

"Okay, Jim. I hear you. Did you get anything else off the video?"

Jim shook his head. "I was going to head back down to the garage and see if I could find anything." He stared at the leather jacket in his hands, fingering the smooth material.

"Don’t zone on me, Jim. Let’s go…" Simon was interrupted as Rafe burst in the door.

"We just got an anonymous call about a body in a warehouse," Rafe’s eyes blazed as he continued. "I told dispatch to let the others know the location."

"Let’s go," Simon said, catching Jim by the arm as they all ran out the door.

Joel jogged up to Simon’s car as it squealed to a stop in front of the warehouse. Jim hopped out before the car came to a complete stop. Taggart stepped in front of the Sentinel and caught his eyes. "It’s like you described, Jim." He looked at Simon for assistance.

Captain Banks quickly rounded the car and grabbed Jim’s arm. "What do we have here?"

Joel nodded and gave the report. "We found a white van parked out back, it matches the one in the video. No sign of our anonymous caller, but there’s a pay phone just down the road." He took a deep breath and continued. "The inside of the warehouse is pretty much as we thought. Large wooden crates around the walls, the center has been cleared." Joel focused his gaze on Jim. "The body is shackled to a metal chair in the center of the floor. It’s been burned, smells like gasoline. It's still hot. The others have cordoned off the area and we’re ready for forensics once Jim has a look."

Simon squeezed Jim’s arm. "Are you ready for this?"

Jim nodded vaguely and let his Captain lead the way into the warehouse.

"Uh, Jim? You might want to dial down your sense of smell," Joel suggested falling in behind them.

"Yeah, thanks, Joel," Jim replied, taking a second to make sure it was down all the way for now. He could dial it back up when he needed to.

He entered behind Simon and stopped, expecting to feel something, but it just seemed like any other warehouse. They passed through the rows of crates and Jim had to stop suddenly to avoid running into Simon.

Simon shuddered at the sight of the body. He turned quickly to Ellison. "Remember, it's not Sandburg, not until we have proof, right?"

Jim swallowed hard and nodded. The Captain stepped away and to one side giving Jim full view of the nightmare they'd lived with for the past few days. Jim stayed rooted to the spot as he took in the visual clues. At first glance it seemed to match the vision, but Jim already knew one important factor was missing. Blair's jacket.

He swept the room with his enhanced sight. The chair and the body seemed to match, but the table beside the chair was new. He zoomed in on the crate behind the chair, saw the strands of hair that he knew were Blair's and dropped to the article of clothing on the floor. It was the flannel shirt Blair had been wearing.

Jim continued his visual search and frowned as he walked toward a spot on this side of the chair. Simon followed him. The Sentinel knelt down. "You have some gloves, Simon?" His captain pulled a pair of latex gloves from his coat pocket. Jim pulled on one and picked up something off the floor.

He almost zoned as he realized that it was covered with Blair's blood.

"What is it, Jim?" Banks asked laying a hand on Ellison's shoulder to steady him.

"A tooth," the whispered answer came back, almost silent. "Blair's."

Simon clamped his jaw against the rage he felt and instead concentrated on getting an evidence bag out for the tooth. Once Jim had placed it in the bag, he stood and headed for the crate. He didn't make it that far before something on the floor caught his eye.

"Simon, there was a body lying here," he pointed to the floor in front of him and knelt, placing his hands just above the floor.

"How can you tell?"

"There's a residual heat pattern, some sweat and a few drops of blood." He opened his sense of smell just a bit, making sure to keep the already known odor of burnt flesh pushed back. "It's not Blair or Chapel. There was a third person." Jim looked up at Simon. "It could be our victim."

Simon nodded and looked over for someone to mark this spot for forensics. "Brown! Tape off this area for forensics. They need to look for signs that another person, possibly our vic lay here."

"Got it, Cap." Henri replied heading over with the tape and chalk.

Jim stood, pointed out the area to H and then moved on to the crate. He gently removed the hair caught in the wooden crate and placed it in the bag Simon provided. Again, he knelt, but this time just fingered the shirt. "Chief," he murmured, standing and leaving the shirt for forensics.

"I need to examine the body," Jim said calmly, leading Captain Banks over to the chair.

Jim stopped several feet from the chair and just looked at the body for a minute. He needed to be objective about this and truth be known, it was difficult to see a resemblance to any living human, let alone to his Guide. The fire had left some few charred pieces of cloth but no hair remained. The features had melted off the body, nose, ears; the flesh was crisped and blackened. The skeletal fingers had a claw-like grip on the arms of the chair. The jaw hung open in a macabre grin and Jim could see that a molar was missing. Otherwise there was no identifiable feature left.

Simon watched as the Sentinel examined the corpse. He seemed to be handling this as well as any of them. The Captain scanned the area and saw that his team was doing their jobs, determined to find their missing comrade. He turned back to Ellison in time to see him lean a little closer to the corpse and inhale.

Jim dialed up his sense of smell a little more. He almost gagged at the smell of burnt flesh, but hearing Sandburg's voice in the back of his head, catalog the scents you know, Jim, and file them away, he was able to tune out the bad and focus on finding the clues he needed. Underneath the gasoline and the burnt flesh was the smell of the victim. Faint and hard to get to, but it was there.

Simon barely caught Jim as he staggered back away from the body. He eased Ellison down to sit on the floor and gripped his shoulders with both hands. Jim was shaking uncontrollably. "Oh, God, Jim!" Banks gasped, then lowered his voice. "Is it Sandburg?"

Jim brought his head up quickly, grabbing Simon's arm as he met his eyes and shook his head. Simon sat down hard beside his detective, then popped him on the arm as the truth sank in.

"Don't do that to me," Simon said weakly.

"I'm sorry, Simon," Jim said, his relief clear in his voice. "This is the third person, the one that was laying over there," he pointed in the direction of Brown's taped off area. "I can just barely make out his scent under the gas and …" he trailed off.

"I got it," Simon answered grimly.

"Sorry, I lost it there. I just…" Jim waved a hand at the body.

Simon squeezed his shoulder and levered himself up off the ground. "I understand, Jim. Here, let me help you up." He offered Ellison a hand and raised his voice as he pulled the younger man up. "It's not Sandburg, gang, but that means he's still missing and Chapel's left us a John Doe."

The relief was palpable. Smiles came back briefly only to be replaced by determination. Jim looked at his Captain and shared a small smile of relief.

"Okay, Jim, we've still got to figure out where they went. Do your stuff, I'm right behind you." Simon motioned for the detective to continue his search.

Jim nodded and carefully extended his senses. He found it easier now to discount the smell of burnt flesh, although it seemed to permeate everything. His sight picked up a splatter of blood and he headed toward it.

"Blood?" Simon asked, seeing the Sentinel kneel to investigate a spot on the floor.

Jim's nostrils flared and he nodded, "It's Blair's. There are a few more drops in that direction." He stood and followed them. The next area of floor he investigated had a small puddle of fluid, Jim dipped his finger in it and sniffed cautiously. "Oil leak, could be from the get away vehicle." He stood and turned in place examining the area. "Do you have a piece of paper, Simon?" Jim asked moving to another spot.

Simon grabbed his notepad, ripped out a sheet and handed it to Ellison. Jim brushed a minute amount of dirt onto the paper and sniffed it carefully before dropping the dirt and paper into another evidence bag.

"I smell… forest… pine… squirrel. It's a long shot, but if he used this vehicle to come from where ever he took Blair…" Jim knew he was grasping at straws.

"There's a lot of forest out there, Jim." Banks said sympathetically. "We need a little more to go on."

Jim nodded. He'd go over the entire warehouse with a fine toothed comb if he had to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blair had tried to listen for sounds as Chapel drove, anything to help figure out where they were going. Unfortunately, there were no windows. He seemed to be in the back of a moving truck or something. His mind wasn't all that clear, although it had no trouble replaying the horror of seeing that poor man burn alive.

He only hoped he'd have a chance to get the clues to Jim. A small voice in the back of his head kept telling him it should be simple to reach out to his Sentinel. But Blair wasn't quite sure he could conjure up a vision to guide the Sentinel to him.

Blair gave himself a mental shake and concentrated on hearing what was going on outside the truck. Any noise, a siren or a church bell, could give Jim the information he needed.

Suddenly the ride got rough, like they were on an unpaved road. Well, that could be a clue, Blair thought bitterly. They hadn't been traveling long, he guessed about twenty to thirty minutes on regular blacktop road. The trip down the unpaved road seemed longer because it jostled the Guide’s sore head, but probably only lasted about five minutes.

The truck stopped and Blair flinched as the door was yanked open and allowed to roll up. It was dark, crickets and other night sounds filtered into the back of the truck.

"Get your butt over here, Sandburg. Don't make me come in there after you," Chapel growled, making a "come here" motion with his hand.

Blair glared at him, but his wrists and ankles were well bound and he didn't really have a choice. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the truck.

Chapel grabbed his hair. "You gonna cooperate, or am I gonna have ta knock you out again?"

Blair shook his head, his mouth too dry against the gag to even try to answer verbally. He allowed Chapel to lift him over his shoulder again and was taken into a dark log cabin.

Chapel carried him through the main room and into another. He set him down on his feet. "Stay put." Blair concentrated on keeping his balance. Between the darkness, the headache and the bindings on his ankles, it wasn’t easy.

A match flickered and the room was suddenly lit with the glow from a kerosene lamp. Blair looked around. The room, probably a bedroom at one time, had been cleared of all furniture but a small table with the lamp on it.

Chapel came over and pushed him down into a sitting position on the floor. He reached up over his head and pulled down a chain that was attached to a heavy-duty rope. The rope threaded through a series of pulleys to a winch on one wall. Chapel slipped the chain under the handcuffs and fastened it to the ring where the chain and rope were connected. He went over to the winch and turned it until Blair’s arms were straight up over his head.

Blair watched as Chapel locked the winch in place, then knelt in front of him. "I’ll remove the gag if you promise not to make too much noise. Not that it'll get ya any help, ya see. We're miles from anyone, but I need my beauty sleep." Chapel stared at him.

The tired hostage nodded his consent and the gag was pulled roughly down to hang around his neck. Blair licked his lips and watched Chapel expectantly. He was sure some type of torture was forthcoming.

Chapel nodded, stood and picked up the lamp. "Sleep tight," he chuckled, closing the door behind him leaving the Guide in complete darkness.

Blair realized that all the windows had been boarded over. He sighed and closed his eyes. At least he's gonna let me rest tonight. Although I'm not sure that's a good thing. He adjusted his position to try and get more comfortable. The cuffs on his wrists were so tight that they threatened to cut off circulation. His ankles were also bound tightly. He couldn't even move them apart a little bit.

Ok, Blair, let's meditate for a bit, maybe you can reach Jim that way. He took a deep breath in through his nose, calming and centering himself to reach a deep meditative state. Unfortunately, his head injury and exhaustion helped him reach a different deep state first. Blair's head fell forward just a bit as he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim scoured the warehouse and the parking lot and even the road leaving the area in an attempt to follow the trail of oil from the getaway car. Surely, Jim thought, if I can follow a "splash of petrol" through the jungle, I can follow a car leaking oil on the road. Indeed, he had even done that before, and with brake fluid. Unfortunately, that had been fresh oil and fresh brake fluid, and petrol in the jungle was a lot more distinctive than oil in the Great City. The trail had gotten cold real fast.

Finally, Simon had called it a night. He took Jim back to the loft, made him shower and eat and promise to try to get some sleep. Simon left Jim sitting on the couch, pretending to relax. "I'll see you in the morning, Jim."

A hand raised in acknowledgment and Simon closed the door behind him, knowing the man would probably be up all night.

Jim looked up as Simon left and started to get up off the couch himself, then changed his mind. He didn't know where to start looking for Blair. All their leads, if you could call them that, were dead ends. He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes again.

Come on, Chief. You gotta help me out here. James Ellison fell into an exhausted sleep.

He woke briefly to the feel of something weighing down the couch cushion beside him. Jim opened his eyes to see the wolf on the couch. It nuzzled his shoulder, then lay down with its head on his lap. Jim caressed the silver head and fell back into a calmer sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim entered the bullpen feeling surprisingly refreshed. He recalled seeing the wolf the night before, but it had been gone when he woke. He was a little surprised to see Megan and Joel already hard at work at their desks.

"Good morning," Jim said, taking off his jacket.

"Jim! How are you?" Megan asked, surprised to see a fairly normal Ellison this morning.

"I'm okay," he explained, "so's Blair. At least so far." He nodded to Simon as he came out of his office. "I got a visit from the wolf last night. Actually slept pretty well." He shrugged.

"No visions of where to find him though, huh?" Simon asked.

"No."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blair woke suddenly to the sound of the door opening. Chapel came in and went straight over to the winch.

"Sorry, but I'm going into town for the newspaper," he cranked the winch, pulling Blair up into a standing position as he spoke, "and I don't want you to get any bright ideas while I'm gone." He continued until Blair's toes just barely touched the floor, then he locked off the winch. Chapel replaced the dirty gag from the night before and tapped his hostage on the cheek. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon and we'll have some fun." He grinned and left the room.

Blair tried to remain as still as possible. His arms had fallen asleep during the night and were starting to tingle painfully as some circulation was reintroduced. He realized he must have had a concussion if he'd slept through the night. I've got to try and reach Jim now, or I may not get another chance. He was pretty sure only Chapel would enjoy the "fun" he had in mind.

The Guide relaxed and sent himself into a deep meditation with the ease of much practice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well," Megan said, "we're still trying to ID our vic. So far there aren't any matches in the DNA banks."

"Yeah, I didn't think…" Jim stopped suddenly. The wolf raced into the bullpen, followed closely by the panther.

Jim found himself suddenly back in the bullpen, on his knees, trying to pull air into tortured lungs.

"That's it Jim, nice deep breaths, slow and easy," Simon coached rubbing a hand in slow circular motions on Jim's back.

"What??" Jim gasped, "Blair!" He struggled to get up, but had two sets of hands keeping him down.

"Take it easy, man," Joel said, "we were about to call the paramedics when you came out of it."

"Did you have another vision, Jim?" Megan asked.

Jim nodded. "Blair's okay." He told them the information Blair had given him.

"So, now we wait some more?" Simon asked.

Jim shrugged. "For now."

"We'll get a list of places that rent out log cabins and get started on narrowing down our options," Joel said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapel was indeed back, and none too happy about the situation either. There was nothing in any of the papers about his escape or the kidnapping of a police officer or even the burned body in the warehouse. He was furious. The door to the cell slammed against the wall as he pushed it open and Sandburg didn't even flinch.

The mad man stalked over to the prisoner and looked at him closely. He seemed to be asleep, but should have wakened with the noise. Maybe he's unconscious. I did bust him in the head a few times yesterday. Nah! He was wide awake this morning when I left. Let's see how long he can play possum. Chapel chuckled. This could be fun.

Blair gasped as he was jerked out of the jungle and back to a cold reality. His chest was on fire. His eyes popped open as he tried to fill his lungs. Another thump sounded loudly in his ears and then his brain and body started communicating and the pain from the baseball bat cracking several of his ribs reverberated through him.

"Time to wake up, punk!" Chapel said smugly, brandishing the bat in one hand.

Sandburg struggled against the pain to get a decent breath. He was still hanging from the chain and although he didn't really have any feeling left in his arms, his back and shoulders were screaming at the abuse. Not to mention his ribcage.

"You and me are gonna hava little conversation," Chapel said, walking slowly back and forth in front of his captive.

Blair hoped he had enough air to speak, he had to get some information out of the psycho before he lost consciousness. And he figured one more swing of the bat should just about do it. "You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" he managed to whisper.

Chapel glared at him and did exactly as Blair had hoped. He grabbed the newspapers off the small table and waved them in the detective's face. Blair tried to focus on the print. "They repressed my story!" He slammed the papers to the floor and Blair was surprised to see he could make out the name of a small town press, Pine Valley Daily, as well as the Cascade Herald. "I went to a lot of work to make everything just right. And they didn't print one damn word!"

Chapel ranted and paced the cell like a mad dog. Blair began to hope the man had forgotten about him, but realized that it wouldn't last. The man stopped and turned to face his prisoner. "You! This is all your fault!" He shook his head, frowning in thought. "I don't know how they figured out you're still alive," he pinned Blair with a look. "But somehow…"

Blair watched, not daring to say a word. Anything could set Chapel off in the state he was in. Even silence.

"How? How did they know?" Chapel butted Blair in the stomach with the end of the bat causing the young man to moan in pain. "You must have managed to leave a clue somehow. I don't know what or when… I had it all planned down to the last." Chapel got right up into Blair's face and grabbed his ear. "You had to go and throw a monkey wrench into my plans." He pushed Blair away, causing him to swing erratically.

Blair almost lost consciousness at that point, sharp pains shot through his chest. Oh, man! Be there, Jim, please! He tried to concentrate on the jungle, hoping that he could find his way without conscious thought.

Chapel glared at him once again, fury distorting his face. He lifted the bat.

And swung, Blair Sandburg's world exploded in a flash of pain that faded to darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim sat at his desk, a feeling of dread weighing him down. Blair was in danger and he wasn't any closer to finding him. The rest of the Major Crimes team were all busy calling camp sites within a sixty mile radius or trying to connect the victim to property in the area. The straws they were clutching at kept slipping further out of reach.

Ellison had been numb since the last trip into the jungle. He knew Blair hadn't left on his own. Chapel had "requested" his attention somehow and Jim was afraid he knew how. Jim had spent the last few hours trying to get back to the jungle, but he just didn't know how. It had always been thrust upon him. I gotta get Sandburg to teach me how to do this. Jim scrubbed his face with one hand. First I gotta get him back.

Simon set a cup of coffee on Jim's desk, but had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention. Jim blinked and looked up at his friend. God, what would I do without these people, he thought, grateful they were there to help. "Thanks, Simon."

"You know, Jim, I'm no expert on meditation or these visions," Simon stuttered along uncomfortable pathways, Jim waited for him to finish. "But, I wonder if you shouldn't try a quieter spot and maybe, uh, some deep breathing exercises. Isn't that what Sandburg would do?"

The detective blinked. You can be really dense sometimes, Ellison! He nodded. "You're right, Captain. I'm not thinking very clearly right now."

Simon favored him with a slight grin. "You can use my office." They went in together, Jim sat in one of the leather armchairs, while Simon sat behind his desk. The Sentinel took a deep breath and tried to relax.

The wolf cried out in pain and Jim bolted up out of the chair. "Blair!"

"What, Jim? What is it?"

"Come on, Simon," Jim said running out of the office. Banks had an episode of déjà vu.

"Joel, Megan, come with us. The rest of you hold down the fort," Simon yelled as he followed Ellison.

They got down to the garage and Jim started to climb into his truck. Simon blocked his way. "Uh, huh. I'm driving. If you zone or get another visit from Sandburg while you're driving, I'll be short two detectives. We're taking my car."

The four officers piled into Simon's vehicle and looked expectantly at Jim. "Which way, Jim?" Simon asked softly.

Jim closed his eyes. He could hear the wolf whimpering. "North," he replied. Hold on, Chief. Hold on.

They drove for about twenty minutes, following the sound of the wolf, then suddenly Jim lost his guidance. He grabbed Simon's arm and Banks pulled off to the side of the road.

"Where now, Jim?"

"I don't know, I can't hear him anymore," Jim's voice cracked.

"Sandy said you'd need to meet him halfway, Jim," Megan encouraged. "Maybe now is the time."

Jim nodded hesitantly, he closed his eyes and Megan watched as his jaw ticked. He was not relaxed. She sat forward on the back seat and started to massage Jim's neck and shoulders.

"Relax, Jim," she said in her best imitation-guide voice. "Take a slow deep breath and let it out, that's right. Now another, okay…"

Jim listened to Megan's calm litany and used it to relax. I can do this! I have to! He heard the panther growl and saw it sitting on the hood of the car, even though his eyes were closed. Help me! Jim pleaded. The panther leapt at him and as it passed into him, the jungle formed around the Sentinel.

The jungle faded and Simon's car came back into focus. Jim blinked and shook his head to clear it. He looked at Simon Banks. "He's in Pine Valley, there's probably a store or gas station near the dirt road they turned off on." Simon pulled back onto the road. Pine Valley was just a few more miles up the road.

Megan patted Jim on the back. "You did it, mate," she said proudly.

"Yeah," Jim replied. "Thanks for the help."

****

Jim dialed up his hearing. Blair was nearby, so he should be able to zoom in on his heartbeat. The Sentinel closed his eyes and filtered out the noises around him. The sounds of their friends, the car, and even the road noise and wind were acknowledged and filed away. Jim didn't notice the car slowing and then stopping, because he was catching the faint sounds of his Guide's heartbeat. They were getting closer.

"Jim!" Simon said, louder, and this time the Sentinel opened his eyes and smiled.

"I can hear him, Simon." He pointed off to the right. "That way."

Banks had pulled into a small convenience store parking lot as they passed the sign for Pine Valley.

"We just passed a dirt road, Simon," Joel said hopefully.

Jim nodded. "That's it! Hurry!"

***

Chapel splashed the young man in the face with cold water and grunted in disappointment when he did not regain consciousness. He tossed the bat to the ground and kicked at the newspapers littering the floor. "Damn, hippy punk. Guess I'll just have to wait for you to wake up."

He left the cell, not bothering to close the door and went to grab a beer from the refrigerator. His prisoner had not provided as much entertainment as he'd hoped. Chapel had managed to revive him several times from the safety of his unconsciousness, but ultimately Sandburg had proved to be stronger than Chapel expected. A few moans and gasps of pain did not satisfy the mad man's need for revenge.

Chapel lifted his head and moved to the window at the sound of a car approaching the cabin. He growled, grabbed his duffel bag and gun and climbed out the window by the kitchenette. How? How did they find us? Damn, damn, damn.

It was going to take him a long time to finance another try at Ellison and Sandburg.

***

Simon braked and the car came to a slow stop, Ellison had his door open and was out of the car while it was still moving. "Dammit, Jim! Wait for us. What about Chapel?"

Megan and Joel drew their guns and were only a few steps behind Ellison. Simon turned the engine off and scanned the area as he drew his weapon.

Jim hadn't heard a thing but Blair's heartbeat for the last several miles. He couldn't have said whether Chapel was in the cabin or not. He bounded up the steps to the porch and burst into the cabin. Blair! The scent of his Guide was strong and he followed it to the next room.

The sight of his partner hanging by his arms in the center of the room made Jim's blood boil. He took in the abrasions on Blair's wrists from the too tight handcuffs and followed the rope with his eyes to the winch on the wall.

He turned at the gasp to see Joel and Megan in the doorway. "Help me," he beseeched, he pointed at the winch. "Let him down slowly, I'll support him."

Joel clamped down on the anger that threatened to boil over at the sight of the young detective who had so obviously been tortured. He released the lock on the winch. "Ready, Jim?" The Sentinel nodded and Taggart slowly started turning the winch delivering Sandburg's limp body into the arms of his best friend.

"Oh, Sandy," Megan said, kneeling beside Jim as he cradled Blair's unconscious form gently in his arms. She brushed back his dark curls and uncovered a nasty bruise on his temple. A single tear slipped down her cheek. Connor met Ellison's eyes. "I'll get a blanket." She stood and went to check the other room.

Simon entered and motioned to Joel. "There's no sign of Chapel, he must have taken off. Keep an eye out until we are ready to leave." He looked at Blair for the first time and swallowed hard. The pale face was pinched with pain. Dark circles under his eyes vied for attention with bruises on both temples.

"Jim? I don't suppose you know if Chapel is still nearby?" Simon asked, not expecting much.

Jim looked up at him embarrassment flickered across his face for an instant. "Sorry, Simon, I don't know. We need to get him to a hospital."

Banks nodded. "You need help with him?" Ellison shook his head as he gently lifted his friend in his arms and headed to the car.

Joel took the front seat leaving Megan and Jim to watch over the Guide in the back. Megan tucked the blanket in around Blair as Simon started the car dialing Pine Valley information on his cell at the same time.

They had taken Blair to the small clinic in Pine Valley for emergency treatment. Once the doctor was sure he was stable he’d been flown by helicopter to Cascade General. Jim, of course, had stayed with him the whole way, even managing to bully his way on to the helicopter. He was concerned that his Guide had not regained consciousness, but also glad to spare him the pain.

Now the Sentinel sat waiting by Blair’s hospital bed for some sign of consciousness. It had been over 24 hours since the rescue and more than 12 since they’d wheeled him out of surgery. The doctor had been optimistic, but warned of possible complications due to the concussion.

Jim waited impatiently. He had monitored Blair’s vitals often enough to know what normally preceded consciousness and all the signs indicated that Blair should have wakened by now. The detective was beginning to think something was really wrong.

Simon entered the room, taking in the silent pair. "Hey, Jim." He barely got a nod. "No change?" A slight shake of the head. Simon sighed and put the bag he carried down by Jim’s chair. "I picked up a few things for you and Blair."

"Thanks, Simon." Jim sat back in the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. A warm hand fell on his shoulder offering support. Ellison accepted the silent encouragement. "Something’s keeping him from waking up, Simon. He should have come around by now."

Banks sat in the chair beside Jim. "What does the doctor say?"

Jim sighed. "They really don't know, Simon. But, I can tell they're worried. He should have regained consciousness by now." Ellison's gaze never left his Guide's face.

"I hate to be the one to bring this up," Simon said uncomfortably, "but do you think you can reach him through the vision, like before?"

The Sentinel grunted in surprise. Surprise that his captain would come up with the suggestion and surprise that he hadn't thought of it himself. He nodded. "Can you make sure no one interrupts?"

Simon nodded and watched as Jim took Blair's hand in his, carefully avoiding the IV line. The Sentinel closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Banks worried his lower lip with his teeth and kept watch over the two.

Simon Banks gasped at the sight of blood that mysteriously appeared on Ellison's right forearm. He gently pulled the sleeve back and saw what looked like a bite wound. Jim's breathing was barely noticeable and his color was a little gray. "I'm sorry, Jim," he couldn't let the man stay wherever he was any longer, it was taking too big a toll.

"Jim! Come out of it, man!" he said loudly right in the Sentinel's ear. At the same time he pulled Blair's hand out of Ellison's and shook the big man roughly. "Wake up! Come on, Jim!"

Ellison jerked back and took a deep ragged breath. His eyes opened slowly as he tried to figure out where he was. The fog lifted from his brain. "Blair!"

"Jim? You with me?" Simon asked hopefully.

"I didn't get to him," Jim said stunned. "I was at the entrance to the cave and could see him in there, but he didn't hear me." He looked down at his arm, remembering the damage done by the wolf.

Simon followed his gaze and let out an astonished breath. The wound was gone, if it had ever really been there. "What happened?"

"The wolf was guarding the cave," Jim said standing. He stretched and moved over to the window. "It snapped at me and got my arm. He wouldn't let me in." Ellison shook his head, still confused by that. "The panther stepped in and helped me get by at that point. I had just reached the entrance when you called me back. Blair was there, but I got the impression that he couldn't or wouldn't hear me."

"You need to go back, don't you?" Simon asked, knowing the answer.

Jim turned to face him. "Yeah, I do. I remember Blair said he would wait there for me. I thought he meant that as a kind of joke you know? Like I'm not going anywhere? But he meant it literally, he's waiting in the safety of the jungle for me to let him know it's all clear."

"God!" Simon replied, shaking his head. "But can you really blame him after seeing what Chapel put him through?"

"No, I can't." Jim looked up from studying the floor.

The only warning Simon had was the sudden widening of Jim's eyes. He heard the sharp rap of a gun being fired. The captain pushed out of his chair as he grabbed his gun from its shoulder holster, aimed and fired at the person in the doorway.

Later he could remember making several quick observations. Simon saw Ellison fall out of the corner of his eye as he turned. Subconsciously he took in the fact that it was Warren Chapel standing in the doorway with a gun that was swinging his way. As he stood he noted that his shot had taken Chapel just below the Adam's apple.

The killer's eyes stared glassily up at the ceiling, blood pooled on his throat and dripped to the floor. He wouldn't be torturing any more innocent people.

Simon noted the frenzy in the hall caused by the gunshots, but was more concerned about his detective. "I need a doctor in here now!" he shouted striding across the room to Ellison's side.

Jim lay on his back, blood soaking the front of his shirt. He felt cold all over and couldn't get a handle on his senses.

"Easy, Jim," Simon said pressing one hand over the wound in Ellison's gut. "Can you find the pain dial? I know that hurts, but you can do it. Okay now, turn it down."

"S'mon," Jim gasped.

"Take it easy, Jim."

"Bl'r, gotta… get 'm…"

"I'll stay with Blair, you've got an appointment with a doctor, buddy."

"No… lost…"

"He'll be all right until you are taken care of."

Several medical personnel rushed in, quickly noting the dead man in the doorway and dismissing him as Simon motioned to Jim. Within minutes they had Jim on a gurney and headed to surgery.

Simon stood and caught himself before he wiped his blood covered hands on his clothes. The hospital security men were taking care of the crime scene, while a nurse checked on Sandburg. Banks took a minute to go into the restroom and wash his hands. When he came out he placed a call to the office and told Taggart what had happened.

Twenty minutes later he found himself back by Blair's side, the mess had been cleaned up and his people were busy filing the report on Chapel's attack. Simon sat wearily in the chair Jim had occupied only half an hour ago. "So what now, Sandburg?" he asked wishing the young man would open his eyes and give him an answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God, it's been a long week, Simon thought as he took up vigil beside Sandburg's hospital bed again. He had just been down to ICU to visit Ellison, they were only allowing ten minute visits, and now he had to try, again, to get through to the young man before him.

It had been two days since Chapel's attempt on Jim's and, he assumed, Blair's life. Jim had made it through surgery, although the doctor had told them that if he hadn't been in the hospital, Ellison would have died. The bullet had ripped through his spleen causing massive blood loss. They'd removed the damaged organ and replaced the lost blood quickly, but Jim had gone into shock. He was now listed in critical but stable condition, but had not regained consciousness.

Sandburg was also still unconscious and Simon wasn't sure what he could do about it. He'd tried telling Blair about Jim's injury and how much they needed him back to help Jim, but that hadn't worked. So he tried pleading, cajoling, threatening and even guilt, but the young man remained unresponsive.

Simon was beginning to think he would lose both his friends to the now deceased mad man.

*******

Simon rubbed his eyes with one hand. His glasses hung carelessly from his other. He should probably get up and get something to eat, but just couldn't find the energy. A murmur from the bed caught his immediate attention. Banks put his glasses back on as he searched Blair's face for signs of awareness.

"Hmm?" Blair said incoherently.

"Hey, Blair, it's Simon. Wake up, sleepy head." Simon wrapped his large hand around Blair's and squeezed gently.

"S'n?"

"Yeah, kid," he grinned with relief. "It's about time you woke up. You had us all worried sick."

Blair struggled to open his eyes. He couldn't quite figure out what was wrong, his mind was too foggy. Finally, one eye managed to creep open and he saw the fuzzy outline of his Captain leaning over him. Blair frowned.

"J'm?"

Simon pursed his lips. He really didn't think he should be telling the kid about his partner's injury just yet, but he also knew Sandburg wouldn't rest until he knew the truth.

"Jim's okay. He's in another room."

"He h'rt?" Both eyes popped open, pinning Simon down.

"Yeah. Chapel showed up and shot him. Chapel's dead. Jim had to have surgery, but he's recovering." That at least was the truth. His physical injuries were healing with Jim's normal amazing recuperative powers. But he was still unconscious.

"See 'm."

"I don't think the doctor's gonna allow you to get out of bed just yet, Sandburg. You've been unconscious yourself for more than three days. But I'll tell you what, I'll get the nurse so they can check you out and then I'll go tell Jim you're awake. How's that?" Simon asked hopeful that the young man would agree.

"Kay, Sim'n. But 'm gonna see 'm soon." Blair said, closing his eyes and losing the battle to stay awake.

"I know, kid, I know," Simon agreed, heading out to let the nurse and Jim know the good news.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Dammit, Simon! You should have told me this yesterday!" Blair Sandburg yelled at his Captain, then winced and held his ribs against the pain.

"Dammit Sandburg! If you don't calm down they won't let you have even a few minutes with him. Besides, yesterday you couldn't even keep your eyes open, let alone be of any use to your partner." Simon stared down the Guide and only relented when Blair nodded his head slightly.

"Now, if you will calm down, the nice orderly is going to help you into the wheel chair and I'll take you to see Jim."

"Okay, Simon," Blair replied meekly. "I know this wouldn't even be possible if you hadn't bullied someone into letting me visit." He smiled gratefully up at his friend.

"Damn right," Banks gave silent thanks to whichever gods were listening that the doctors in charge had accepted his reasoning. Although the staff was familiar with the Ellison/Sandburg relationship and had usually been very good about allowing abnormal visitation and even sharing of rooms when both men were injured, the severity of Jim's condition had prevented him from being moved out of ICU. And it didn't look like the doctors were going to let up until he regained consciousness.

This little concession, allowing the barely recovering Sandburg to get out of bed to visit his partner, had taken quite a bit of BS. Simon figured even Blair would've been hard pressed to convince the medical staff of the necessity.

But necessity it was, as Simon well knew. Somehow, Blair had found his way back through the jungle, but Simon had a bad feeling that Jim was now lost in the jungle, looking for his Guide.

He pushed Blair's wheelchair into Jim's room and over to the side of the bed.

"Oh, Jim," Blair sighed, taking Jim's hand in his. He and Simon had talked about the jungle and Blair was pretty sure that Jim was still there. That was the only acceptable reason why the Sentinel had not awakened. "Watch the door, Simon. I hope this won't take long, but please," he beseeched, "don't let anyone interfere. I'll bring him back."

Simon squeezed the thin shoulder gently. "I'll watch. Be quick."

Blair nodded and closed his eyes. He hoped he was strong enough to do this.

Simon watched the nurses walk past the door to ICU. It had only been a couple of minutes, but he knew they would be counting down to the ten-minute time limit. Come on, come on.

The movement of Blair's head as it jerked up was quickly followed by a deep breath from Ellison and two sets of blue eyes opened together.

"Jim? Blair? Are you…" Simon started, placing one hand on Blair's shoulder and the other on Jim's knee.

"Hey, Si," Jim slurred.

Blair nodded and turned tired eyes on his Captain. "We're okay," he said as he wilted forward until his head was resting on Jim's bed.

"Sure you are, Sandburg." Simon replied indulgently. Jim reached over gingerly with his free hand, the other was still tightly held by his Guide, and ruffled the curly hair.

"He's exhausted."

"We're all exhausted, Jim. But Chapel is dead and so I pray that this nightmare is finally over."

"I think so, Simon," Jim closed his eyes and fell back to sleep, a small smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, then he hands me the coffee mug, and Jim is standing over there trying not to die laughing…" Blair explains, a little hampered in his story telling by the sling still supporting his right arm.

"I can't believe you got some of that blend out of Simon," H said shaking his head.

Blair grinned over at his partner who was seated behind his desk. "Yeah, well, I don't think that one will work again." Jim smiled back.

"You got that right Sandburg!" Banks growled as he exited his office. He grinned though as he handed off one of two mugs to the young detective. "Don't get used to it."

"Gee. Thanks, Simon!" Blair replied, taking the proffered cup. Jim and H laughed out loud as they watched him take a long sip of the rare brew. "That's good," Blair sighed.

Jim took his cup with a smile and a nod to his Captain.

H shook his head. "I don't know if this coffee is worth all the trouble you guys get into." He turned to go back to his desk, chuckling and wondering if he could come up with a good enough ploy to get a cup out of Captain Banks.

Simon nursed his own cup and leaned on the desk next to Sandburg. "You two seem to be recovering, but I thought you had another few days of leave."

"You know how it is, Simon. I can't keep this guy away from here," Blair complained good-naturedly.

"Right, Sandburg," Ellison growled back, "who was it that said, and I quote, "I'm just worried what kind of trouble they'll get into without us to watch their backs.""

Simon frowned, then glared at the kid. "You were worried that we'd get into trouble? You? The original trouble-magnet?"

"Simon…"

"Uh, uh, I don't want to hear it, Sandburg. Any trouble we might get into is par for the course at a police department," he narrowed his eyes and grinned mischievously, "but at least we don't get lost in the jungle."

The end

Authors are hungry people. Feedback is necessary to keep us from eating each other. Please let me know what you think. Judy

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