By JudyL

August 23, 2003

Takes place after TSbyBS, Blair is a detective. Spoilers for multiple episodes, the Pilot, Siege, Killers, Sentinel, Too and TSbyBS. Also references to my stories "Picking up the Pieces," "Joined Soul and Body," and "Lost in the Jungle." Forgive the time line, I couldn't find specific dates, so I made them up. For lack of consensus on canon birthdays I decided to use May 24, 1969 for Blair's birthday and June 14, 1963 for Jim's.

FYI- this is more a note to myself, but this little plot bunny hatched in April and I'm considering it finished August 23, 2003. Several other stories were started and finished while this one was in the works, which is fortunate, because I used those to finish this one.

Warning: Major Blair owie.

Disclaimer: I know they belong to someone else, but I promise not to break anything (well nothing unfixable) and I'll return them when I'm done (don't hold your breath, I love playing in their universe way too much).

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

Jim raced across the parking lot, knowing he wasn’t going to make it in time. One way or another it would be over. He saw Blair struggling with the perp, they fell apart again and the guy came up off the ground with a pipe in his hand. He swung it at Blair who was in the process of getting back to his feet. The pipe hit the side of his head with a loud crack and for a minute, Jim thought his partner would go down.

Instead, he managed to catch the perp's arm on the back swing and twist it, causing the guy to drop the pipe and turn so that Blair had the arm twisted behind the man's back. By the time Jim got there, Blair had cuffs on the suspect and was trying to stay upright. His knees were bent, one hand on the suspect's arm and the other gripping his own leg just above the knee to keep steady.

"Chief," Jim called out, "good job. You okay?"

Sandburg shook his head slightly. "Read'm his rights, would ya Jim?" He waited until his partner had hold of the perp, then took a staggering step back. His legs gave way and he sat down hard on the ground.

"Hang on Blair, I'm gonna get a squad car and an ambulance." Jim pulled out his cell phone, "get down on your knees," he told the handcuffed man. "And don't move a muscle." He hit speed dial and spoke briefly to dispatch, then poked the perp in the back with his finger. "I mean it, stay put." The guy nodded and sank down into a more comfortable sitting position.

Jim knelt beside his partner, who now held his head gingerly with both hands. He could see blood still flowing rather freely from somewhere under the curly brown hair. It pooled and dripped off the ends. Jim grabbed his handkerchief and gently touched the top of Blair's head with his other hand.

"Hold still, Chief, I need to see where the cut is."

Blair flinched at the contact, but allowed Jim to search. He couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and doubled or was it tripled? He couldn't tell, maybe both. It felt like someone was pounding at the inside of his skull and all he wanted to do was sleep.

Jim lifted the hair where the blood seemed to be coming from and ever so gently ran his fingers over the area. Blair gasped and pulled away before Jim could get a feel for what the damage was. He could see the gash, but couldn't tell if anything was broken.

"Okay, Chief," Jim said trying to keep his voice calm for his partner. Damn, if he's that sensitive he may have a skull fracture. Blair tried to move away again, but a firm hand on the good side of his head prevented it. "Don't move, the ambulance is on its way. Just stay awake for me, okay?"

Blair thought he nodded, but didn't really care, he just wanted to sleep. His eyes were so heavy and it hurt to think. Maybe my head will explode and I'll feel better.

Jim watched Blair, feeling helpless. Blair sat on the ground with his legs out in front of him just slightly bent at the knee. He was leaning over with his elbows on his knees holding his head with both hands. The Sentinel could hear his heart racing and the quick, noisy breaths coming from under the curtain of blood soaked hair.

The squad car pulled up and Jim passed the prisoner off to the officers with a wave of his hand. "Just hold him, I'll have someone take care of it once my partner's been treated."

Blair groaned at the loud voice beside him, but it hurt too much to move.

Ellison turned at the moan to look at his friend and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Blair's breathing was slowing a little. Jim frowned, not sure that was a good thing.

The ambulance pulled up into the parking lot and the paramedics rushed over carrying a stretcher and med kit. "What happened here?" the tall, dark medic asked, kneeling beside Blair.

"He got smacked in the head with that pipe," Ellison replied. "He's bleeding pretty freely, but is too sensitive there for me see what the damage is. He hasn't lost consciousness, but his breathing seems to be slowing a bit. His name is Sandburg."

The medic nodded. "Detective Sandburg? Can you hear me? My name is Brian."

Blair flinched at the noise and tried to nod, but only succeeded in slowly toppling to the right. Jim caught his shoulders and moved to kneel beside his partner to help keep him upright. Blair's arms fell limp at his side and the medic grasped his chin to check his pupils.

"Detective, can you open your eyes for me?" the medic called rather loudly.

Blair tried to respond and was rewarded by a small sliver of light piercing his right eye.

Come on, Chief, Jim thought, not liking the lack of response. His partner's right eye had barely slit open at the request. He watched as the medic opened each eye and noted the response of Blair's pupils. The man gently pulled back the hair over Blair's left ear, then called to his partner.

"Terry, we need to move him now, pupils are dilated and non-responsive. He's got an open head injury, CSF fluid from the left ear, probable traumatic brain injury." The two paramedics went into high gear, gently moving Sandburg onto the gurney and into the ambulance. Jim followed, trying to digest what they'd just said as he climbed into the ambulance.

Traumatic brain injury? He shook his head in denial and grabbed Blair's hand as the ambulance took off. Jim tried to think what the term meant, but couldn't get past the smell of Blair's blood and the pallor of his face. He watched numbly as the medic continued to monitor Sandburg's condition.

Vaguely he heard the driver reporting their approach to the hospital switchboard. "Yeah, dispatch, tell them it's Detective Sandburg, they'll know what to do. It doesn't look good, skull fracture, CSF from the left ear, depressed respirations. He seems to have been conscious until just after we arrived… Okay, be ready, we're coming in hot."

Terry hung up the phone, unaware that the patient's partner heard the conversation. Jim tightened his hold on Blair's hand. "Come on, buddy, your head's harder than that. You fight, you hear me? Fight. I'm not gonna lose you to a lead pipe after all we've been through."

Brian squeezed Jim's arm comfortingly. He'd seen this pair of detectives a few times, and although he wasn't as familiar with them as some of the paramedic teams, he knew that they were very close.

****

Jim trotted along side the gurney as Blair was wheeled down the hall to the emergency room. He almost ran over the petite blonde nurse who blocked him from following his partner through the doors.

"Nancy…" Jim begged.

"Jim, you know the drill. You can't do him any good if you're in the way." Nancy Bruin, RN took Ellison's arm and led him back to the waiting area. She was unfortunately all too familiar with this pair of detectives. They had seen so much of Ellison and Sandburg that a special system had been set up just to deal with them.

Nancy or one of the other ER nurses had the job of settling whichever partner was uninjured, while the doctors took care of the other one. She took a good look at the detective and decided he needed to sit down before he fell down.

"Come on, Jim. Have a seat. Is Captain Banks on his way?" she asked sitting beside him, keeping one hand on his arm.

Jim shook his head. "I don't know," he answered distractedly. He was focusing on the treatment room.

Okay, Nancy exhaled, guess I'd better call Simon. "I want you to stay here Jim. I'll call Simon for you. Don't go into the treatment room. You hear me?" She stood and watched as Jim slowly nodded, his eyes still focused on the door at the end of the hall.

Nancy turned and took two steps before she heard Simon Banks' voice.

"Jim!" Banks called as he charged through the doors into the waiting area. "How is he?"

Ellison looked at Banks briefly before returning his gaze to the doors. "I don't know, Simon."

Nancy moved back to the two men. Simon Banks was every bit as upset as Ellison. "I'll check on their progress, Captain. Keep an eye on him?" She tilted her head toward Jim.

"I will, thanks Nancy."

She grinned and headed into the treatment area. The fact that the Captain of Major Crime knew her name should have been comforting. But the familiarity came with one too many visits to the ER.

****

Jim stared out the window as his thumb gently caressed a circle directly over the pulse in Blair's wrist. It was threatening to rain again. Dark clouds hovered over the entire city. They matched his mood.

He glanced up at his friend's face again, hoping for a change. The pale face stayed the same, eyes closed, lips barely parted. The oxygen canula strapped across Blair's face had given some small comfort at first. He was breathing on his own. But the lack of consciousness concerned the doctors.

All the scans had shown no signs of bleeding within the brain, but there had been significant swelling. The skull fractures had fortunately given his brain a little extra needed space, and it was hoped that would minimize the brain damage.

Jim sighed. He'd dredged up every bit of information he could remember about skull injuries and possible affects on the brain while he waited for the doctors to assess and start treatment on his partner. Then he'd grilled the neurologist.

Unfortunately, no one could give him any solid answers, just a bunch of possibilities. He may recover completely. There may be some brain damage that may cause any number of side affects. They wouldn't know anything for sure until Blair woke up. If he woke up. That was another thing they couldn't be sure of.

"Please, Blair," Jim whispered, shifting his hand to grasp the cool, unresponsive hand of his Guide. "Please, wake up. I need you. You promised you'd stay, Chief. Remember? No one leaves."

Ellison took Blair's hand in both of his and tried to warm the cool flesh. He grasped at the little ray of hope the doctors had offered. The brain was still pretty much a mystery. Some people with minor injuries were never the same, but others with major head trauma had come out virtually unchanged. Jim held onto that, Blair was strong, he'd be fine. He had to be.

The neurologist, Dr. Ray Newman, checked on Blair himself three to four times a day. Jim was grateful for Dr. Newman's concern in this case. Nancy had confided to Jim that first night that Dr. Newman had an excellent reputation, and if anyone could help Blair it would be Newman. Jim hung on to that ray as well.

One of his other rays of hope walked in the door and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Jim," Simon Banks said softly, "it's time for you to take a break."

Jim looked up at his captain and his friend. Simon held out a duffel bag that contained a change of clothes and other items for Jim's use.

The Sentinel stood carefully placing Blair's hand on the bed. He knew better than to argue with Simon. The nursing staff had, as usual now, agreed that Jim could stay, but only if he took care of himself. That meant following the suggestions of any of his friends or the nurses to eat, sleep or make himself more presentable.

This carefully orchestrated routine meant that Jim got three meals, a shower with clean clothes, and at least six hours of sleep in a bed down the hall each day as well as a couple of trips outside to "commune" with nature. Jim grumbled because it was expected, but he also recognized Blair's handiwork.

Hell, not many can argue with Blair and win. Some time ago, when Blair had realized the hospital staff had come up with a procedure to deal with the Sentinel/Guide team, the Guide had gone to them and given them a list of things to help everyone deal. The list had included foods that he and Blair avoided (and favorites too), phone numbers of contacts (Simon, Joel, Megan), a list of Jim's drug allergies and even a list of Blair's preferred herbal remedies to use if possible.

Jim shook his head as he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off. He stopped and sniffed the towel. Damn. The kid had even gotten the laundry washed with Sentinel-sensitive soap. He dressed quickly and headed back to Blair's room.

****

Simon sat talking quietly about one of Daryl's college classes. He kept expecting his detective to open his eyes and make some off the wall comment. Dammit, Blair, wake up, kid. We need you to wake up. Banks rubbed the moisture from his eyes. He was truly afraid this time, afraid that even if Blair did wake up, that he wouldn't be Blair.

However, he had to be strong for Jim and not let him see that fear. Right now, Jim needed to believe that his partner would wake up whole, unchanged. Once Blair regained consciousness, then they could deal with the truth. God please let him be all right, Banks prayed.

Simon wasn't sure he could take seeing Blair with some of the possible side affects he'd read about. Amnesia? Okay, they could work through that. Difficulty communicating? Hmph, doubtful that would last long. Personality changes? Not good. Loss of motor skills? Again, they could deal with. But the list went on and on. And with such a wide variety from mild to severe in each case not to mention combined symptoms. Can't have just one problem can we?

Captain Banks shook his head. Who would have thought he'd become so attached to some neo-hippie observer? Six years ago, he had wanted nothing to do with Blair. Almost seven, now. "Kid, you'd better wake up soon, or you're gonna damage my tough guy image," Simon said softly, easing a curly lock back off of Blair's face.

"It's way too late for that, Simon," Jim said, startling his friend.

"Ellison, I thought I sent you away to rest," Simon growled.

Jim smiled. "You'd be surprised what a shower and a change of clothes will do." He gazed at his partner for a minute, standing at the foot of the bed. "Do you realize he left instructions for the hospital staff on how to take care of me?"

Simon's eyes widened, then narrowed as he thought about it. Nancy and Sheryl and the other nurses did seem to hover a bit. They always made sure to give a warning when they needed to turn up the lights. And "real" food seemed to end up on Jim's plate more often than not.

Jim continued. "The towels were washed with a Sentinel-sensitive soap. One of the few brands Blair found that doesn't give me a rash."

Banks raised his eyebrows, shook his head and chuckled. "Does it really surprise you? He's been taking care of you for almost seven years now. I wouldn't be surprised if he had instructions of the same sort in your files at all the area hospitals and clinics, just in case you didn't end up here."

Ellison moved to the other side of the bed and laid a soft hand on Blair's forehead, gauging his temperature and just making contact with his Guide. "I guess I'm more surprised that I keep forgetting just how much he does to protect me. How much he's given up." Jim took Blair's hand in his and just stood, staring down at their hands.

"He didn't give anything up, Jim," Simon clarified. "If there's one thing I know about Blair Sandburg it's that he doesn't give up, he may change his objective, but he doesn't give up."

"Yeah, he's a fighter. Right, Chief? I know you can hear us. Wake up, buddy." Jim watched the still face hopefully.

Simon sat up straighter in the chair, did Jim sense something? "Can you? Is he?"

Jim met his eyes and Simon's heart started to crumble at the sadness there. The Sentinel shook his head. "Blair, I'm gonna go talk to Simon for a minute. I'll be right back, buddy, don't go anywhere." He placed Blair's hand on the bed and headed out into the hall. Simon followed.

He found Jim leaning against the wall right outside the door. His head tilted back against the wall and his eyes closed.

"Jim? What aren't you telling me?" Simon placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

Jim blinked and took a shuddering breath. He walked over to the row of chairs on the other wall and sat down, looking utterly defeated. Simon joined him.

"Tell me."

"It's one of those Sentinel things, Simon."

"Like I don't know that, Jim. Just tell me."

"We have this sort of connection, you know, a bond. I don't usually think about it, but it's always there. I can "feel" him, usually only if he's in trouble or really upset or excited about something, but it's that connection that helps me find Blair when it matters."

Simon just nodded. He knew all of this. He'd seen the bond in action.

Jim hung his head in despair. "I can't feel it anymore, Simon. That buzz, that sense that he's with me…" he cast desolate eyes at his captain, "it's gone," he choked out the last word, leaning forward to cover his face with both hands.

Simon swallowed the fear that threatened to consume him. What can I say? Think, Banks, he needs you to give him back some hope. "Jim, give the kid a break why don't you?"

The Sentinel jerked up right and stared in disbelief at his captain. "What?"

"The kid got knocked on the head, Ellison. We know his brain hasn't healed yet otherwise he would be awake, right?" Jim nodded, befuddled. "I'm pretty sure all this Sentinel/Guide stuff, the bond, the connection, the psychic link you two share, whatever you want to call it, has firm roots in the brain. So," he asked pinning Jim with his eyes, "don't you think it's possible that the link needs time to heal too?" Simon hoped his rational made some sort of sense, at least to the man in front of him.

Jim's gaze seemed to penetrate Simon's soul, but evidently he found what he needed there to continue hoping. "Thanks, Simon. I… thanks." He patted Simon on the knee and stood up. "I need to get back."

Simon stood as well. "Okay, Jim. Tell Sandburg we all miss him and I'll be back later. Take it easy, son."

Jim nodded and went back into the room. Simon watched them from the doorway for a minute, offered another silent prayer then headed back to the office.

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

He heard voices, but couldn't make out the words. No, just one voice. It softly comforted even though the actual meaning of the words eluded him. He forced his eyes open and blinked away the tears caused by a too-bright light overhead. Gentle fingers wiped the tears from his face.

"Hthre, Chf. Btyyou okup." The voice droned, still not making sense.

A face came into view over him. A man with dark, short hair and sky blue eyes smiled warmly down at him. Who are you? Where am I? The man spoke again, unaware that his words sounded like so much gibberish. Why can't I understand you?

He was so tired. His eyes closed weighted down with fatigue and he didn't fight as sleep stole him back.

****

Jim sighed as Blair fell back asleep. He hadn't said anything. The Sentinel wasn't even sure his friend had heard him, but there had been something in Blair's eyes. It was a spark of awareness, dulled with exhaustion, but definitely there.

I should let the doctor know he woke up, Jim thought rubbing his face as he returned to the bedside chair. Ah, well, it's not like they can tell anything with him asleep anyway. "Looks like you get a little reprieve from the tests, Chief. Remember that the next time you want to run me through a gauntlet, okay?"

Ellison reclaimed the book he'd been reading from and continued to read aloud to his partner.

"I tell you, Simon, he's waking up, go find Dr. Newman." Jim stood a little closer to the bed so Blair could see him when he opened his eyes.

Simon came back a few minutes later with Dr. Newman in tow.

"The nurse told me he woke briefly yesterday afternoon," Newman addressed Jim.

"Yeah, but he went right back to sleep. I didn't see the need to track you down," Jim said, a little defensive.

Dr. Newman checked Blair's vitals then replied. "You're probably right. He was out all the rest of the day. I do need him conscious to evaluate his condition."

"Well, you should get to do that pretty soon, I think he's about to open his eyes again," Jim said hopefully.

***

It was that voice again, drawing him out of the comforting darkness of sleep. This time though it was joined by several others. The words almost made sense, but still slipped by just out of grasp.

He opened his eyes and saw a different man standing at the end of his bed. This man wore a white coat. A doctor? Am I in a hospital? Why?

A hand touched his shoulder and he moved his head slightly to the right to see the man from before. No white coat. I guess he's not a doctor. Who? Why is he always here? Okay, so twice doesn't equal always.

The man in the white coat, the doctor, was speaking. I think he's talking to me, what language is that?

"Duno wer uare?" the doctor asked.

He frowned, trying to make out the words. He expects me to understand. Why can't I understand? He closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration.

The other man, the first one, spoke. "Blair, t'sJm, canu earmee?"

He opened his eyes to see the tall man who had been by his side every time he could remember. Blair? Is that a name? My name? Who are you? Why can't I understand you? Maybe if I talk to you…

He opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out. Well, not exactly nothing, but the sound didn't make any sense to him, why would it make sense to the others. He closed his mouth. Maybe I should try something easier. Who am I seems like a good start. Concentrate, who… am… I…

He opened his mouth to speak this simple sentence and could almost feel his brain bog down. "Ahhh?" he heard come out of his mouth before he quickly closed it again. His eyes darted back and forth between the doctor and the other one. He noticed a third man standing behind the first one. A big, dark skinned man, taller than the first one. The dark man had what could only be considered a look of sad compassion on his face.

Fear took a deep root in his soul. What is wrong with me? He wanted to scream, but evidently even verbalizing incoherent rage was beyond him. Instead he clamped his eyes closed and rolled to his left to put his back to the men in the room. Unfortunately, that put pressure on his head wound and a real moan of pain escaped unplanned.

He grasped his head at the pain, feeling the bandages encircling his head. Gentle but firm hands eased him onto his back. The voice started a soothing mantra and he decided more sleep would be the best thing for now.

****

Jim gently massaged Blair's shoulder until he felt the younger man relax into sleep. He watched his soul mate for a minute then joined Simon and Dr. Newman in the hall.

"So?" Jim asked, knowing they didn't have much to go on yet.

Dr. Newman sighed. "It's too soon to say exactly. He appears to be having difficulty understanding what we are saying and trouble verbalizing. I didn't know Blair before, but I'd have to say there is self-awareness, even intelligence showing in his eyes." He held up his hands to forestall comment. "That is a totally unscientific statement, gentlemen. But I think you both agree with me." They nodded. "The little tantrum, trying to avoid us by turning away, certainly, to me anyway, indicates that Blair is very much aware of his surroundings. Maybe even that he knows something is wrong."

Jim looked at Simon and nodded. They'd seen the confusion, frustration and finally the fear as Blair realized, well, whatever it was that had scared him. Now they just had to figure out how to help.

"I think we are going to be in for quite a fight," Dr. Newman continued. "Your young friend doesn't seem to have much patience."

Simon grinned, but shook his head. "You're wrong there, Doctor. Blair is probably one of the most patient people I know."

"When he's dealing with other people and their problems," Jim added. "With his own failings, he's very short tempered." Ellison met Simon's gaze and they both acknowledged the fact that it was not going to be easy to get Sandburg back this time. Fighting Blair Sandburg was like trying to break down the Great Wall of China with a spoon. It could be done, but it would give you blisters, wear your fingers to the nub and take a very long time.

"Just tell us what we can do, Doctor," Banks pleaded. "We have quite an arsenal of people to call upon and I think we'll all be needed to help Blair."

Dr. Newman nodded and smiled. "He's a lucky man to have such good friends."

"No, Doctor, we're the lucky ones. And we're family," Jim corrected.

****

He sat in the bed watching as the first man, he'd started thinking of him as Blue Eyes, pushed the tray table over the bed and started to uncover the plate.

"Ino howm chuate spitaod, Chief," Blue Eyes said, "but've gotteator thay won'tak ute IV." He winked conspiratorially. "Igot Nancyt getusum thinoff the menu." Blue Eyes uncovered the plate with a smile.

He looked at Blue Eyes. Some of those words had actually made sense. Chief, IV, the menu. He looked down at the plate and wondered if the food should look familiar. Did he always eat so unhealthily? The burger and fries didn't even smell appetizing to him. He cast a wary glance up at Blue Eyes, and was surprised to see a relieved grin on his face.

"kay, Chief, yugotme. Ias ust doina liltesov mywn." Blue Eyes removed the offensive plate and replaced it with another. "See ifthis's a lil morto yur liking."

He stared at Blue Eyes for a minute, trying to unscramble the words. He thought that maybe if he could hear it a little slower, he might understand.

"Chief?" Blue Eyes asked.

He decided to try a request. Speak more slowly, that's all I need. "Mah-ore," he slurred. Then closed his eyes in frustration. No one can understand that!

"More what, Chief?" Blue Eyes asked, touching his cheek to get his attention.

His eyes popped open. I understood that! He called me Chief! He understood me? What now? What can I say? "Saa-ee…" he forced out. His mouth and brain didn't seem to want to cooperate.

Blue Eyes watched him for a minute, thinking. "Yuwnt metokee pal king, Chief? Is'it?"

He put his hand up to Blue Eyes mouth to stop him, then pulled his hand back just a bit.

"Blair?" The hand covered his mouth again.

He saw understanding in the blue eyes over his hand and removed the hand with a sigh.

Blue Eyes started talking again, but this time very slowly and clearly. "Do you want me to speak slower, Chief?"

He smiled, nodding as tears of relief rolled uncontrollably down his face. He could understand Blue Eyes. Even if he couldn't talk, at least he could understand what people were saying to him.

Blue Eyes moved and suddenly held him close, allowing the emotion to wash over them both. "It's okay, Blair, everything's going to be fine."

He soaked up the comforting words of his friend, not that he remembered who Blue Eyes was or what they shared, but he had to be a friend. Or maybe a brother. Only someone very close could give him this kind of comfort with a simple hug and a few words.

He stiffened a bit and wiped his face as Blue Eyes moved back. He needed more information. He concentrated to get the right words out. Pointing to Blue Eyes' chest he asked, "Who?"

"You don't know who I am?" Blue Eyes asked sadness tingeing his voice.

He shook his head in response and pointed again.

"My name is Jim, Jim Ellison. I'm your friend, Chief."

Chief? I think he's called me that before. What kind of name is Chief? He pointed to his own chest and looked at Jim expectantly.

Jim closed his eyes briefly, then took a deep breath and plastered on a smile. "Your name is Blair Sandburg."

Blair, yeah, I remember him calling me that before. What's Chief then? A nickname? Blair tried to force his mouth and brain to work together. "Nick?" He shook his head in frustration. "Blair?" Damn! He slammed his hands down on the mattress. What is wrong with me?

"Easy, Chief," Jim said putting his hand on Blair's shoulder.

Blair straightened and pointed at Jim, he made a "go on" motion with his finger, hoping Jim would figure out what he wanted.

Jim frowned, not quite sure what Blair was after, he seemed stuck on his own name. "I'm not sure what you want, Chief." Blair grabbed his arm and shook it, staring intently into Jim's eyes.

"Chief?" Blair nodded hopefully. "Oh! Chief is a nickname I call you, along with a few others. Guess it's a little confusing for you right now. I'm sorry." Jim clasped his hand over the one Blair still had latched to his arm.

Blair sighed. I was right. At least I can use my brain to think, why can't I speak, though? He brought his hand up to gingerly touch the bandage around his head. I guess I got hurt. But how? And how bad?

"Look, Blair, I need to get the doctor, okay? I'll be right back, I promise," Jim said watching for some sign of resistance.

Blair looked back at him and nodded. Yeah, get the doc so you can tell me what the hell is wrong and who I am and what happened. He leaned back against the pillows propped up behind him. While Jim was gone, Blair wiggled his fingers and toes, that seems to work fine, counted to 50 by 2's, okay there, and mentally recited the first stanza of the Star Spangled Banner. Good to know the trivial stuff isn't gone. Now if only I could remember how it got there in the first place.

"Mr. Sandburg," the doctor said striding into the room followed closely by Jim. He pulled out a penlight and shined it into each of Blair's eyes in turn. "Jim said if we speak slowly, you can understand, is that correct?" he asked when he was done.

Blair nodded. "Okay, I need to ask you some questions. You've had a serious head injury and I need to know what might have been affected. Do you remember me?"

Blair nodded. "Doctor," he managed, although he'd wanted to say, you're the doctor.

"That's right, Blair. My name is Dr. Newman. Is it all right for me to call you Blair?" Nod. "Jim told you your name. Do you know who you are?"

Blair shook his head and motioned with his hands to indicate the room. "Room… You…" He stopped frustrated again by his inability to communicate. Why don't you just write it down, dummy? Blair mimed writing on a piece of paper. The doctor handed him a pad and pen.

What to ask first? How did I get hurt? Blair wrote, then stopped and stared at the page. What the hell? That's not what I wrote. I can't even read that.

"What is it, Chief?" Jim asked when Blair failed to show them the question. He moved closer to the bed and looked at the paper. He squinted and leaned down. Granted, Blair's handwriting could sometimes be difficult to decipher, but even with Sentinel sight, Jim couldn't make heads or tails of the print on the page. Ah, Blair.

Dr. Newman took the pad and looked at the sheet without a change in expression. He looked back up at Blair, catching his attention and holding it with his eyes. "Blair, you've had a very serious injury to your head. You were unconscious for almost four days. As far as I can tell, you seem to be suffering from amnesia as well as a difficulty with verbal and written communication. Do you understand what I've told you?"

Blair swallowed and nodded. Brain damage. I have brain damage. I don't know who I am or what I do or who my friends are. I can't even communicate with anyone. He sat lost in his thoughts, his breathing coming faster and faster.

Jim sat on the edge of the bed beside his partner as he realized Blair was working himself into a full-blown panic attack. "Easy, Chief," he said, putting his arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Take a nice, deep breath and let it out. Okay, again. That's it, just take it easy, now."

Blair listened to Jim's calm instructions. Why do I find it so easy to trust this man? I certainly don't remember him or anyone else for that matter. Who is he? He took another deep, but shaky breath and looked up at Jim with a weak smile. Jim smiled back, squeezing his shoulder.

Dr. Newman interrupted. "I'm sorry, Blair, I didn't mean to scare you. I just want you to understand what's going on. The good news is that you've already improved dramatically, just since you woke up."

Blair frowned, tilting his head to try to understand what Dr. Newman meant by improvement.

"Think about it. When you first woke up, you couldn't understand what we were saying, right?" Blair nodded. "But now, even though we have to speak a little slower than normal, you aren't having any trouble understanding, are you?" Blair shook his head, comprehension showing clearly on his face. "Good. That tells me several things. One, whatever damage was done to your brain may not be permanent. Two, the amnesia seems to be related to memories of… self, personal things, like who you are, your friends, work, etc. You seem to know other things, learned information, like writing… yes, even though your brain didn't let you write what you wanted, you still thought you had that skill. You also have access to information about the brain and know what a head injury can mean."

Blair stared thoughtfully at the doctor. It was true he'd even checked it out himself earlier. The learned things, like math and song lyrics, as well as motor skills were in good working order. He just couldn't make his mouth and brain cooperate to communicate any of it with the outside world… that is the world outside his own head.

The doctor wrote on his chart then addressed Blair again. "I'm going to set up another round of brain scans, I want to make sure we haven't missed anything. Then I'm going to assign a speech therapist to your case. If everything looks good, I think you can go home in a few days." Dr. Newman paused, "Don't let yourself get too worried about what you can't do or can't remember right now, Blair. It will take time for your body to heal. I'll check back in later this afternoon. Detective Ellison? Can I speak with you a moment?"

Jim looked up at the doctor, startled by the request. What aren't you telling him, Doc? He smiled reassuringly down at Blair then followed the doctor. "I'll be right back, Chief."

Blair watched them leave the room. He frowned. Now what is he telling Jim that he won't tell me?

Out in the hall, Jim pinned the doctor with his stare. "What are you holding back, Doctor?"

Newman smiled at the protectiveness the detective showed for his partner. "Take it easy, Jim. I just wanted to tell you to talk to Blair. Tell him about himself. He can't ask questions right now and I think he's got about a million. You may want to limit the information though. Don't get too deep into things that may cause him distress."

"You want me to tell him about who he is? I thought it was best to let amnesia victims "find" the memories themselves."

"In some cases, but right now Blair needs some answers. Normally, by now, an amnesia patient would at least have some pertinent personal history, his name, age, occupation. Is he married, does he have children? Blair has been focused on just communicating, and found only frustration. He needs some answers, and seems to trust you, even if he doesn't remember your friendship up here," he tapped his head, "he does remember on some other level," Newman pointed to his heart.

Jim nodded. "Okay, you're the doc, Doc." Newman grinned and motioned for him to go back into Blair's room. The detective smiled and pushed the door open.

Blair looked up when Jim came in. Worry lined his face. He relaxed slightly at Jim's smile.

"It's okay, Chief," Jim said, taking a seat in the chair by the bed. "The doc just asked me to fill you in on a few things, that's all."

Like what? "Wha?" Blair grimaced at the incomplete question but didn't take his eyes off the bigger man.

"Well, basic personal information. Just to help you get oriented until you start to remember for yourself." Jim paused, taking in the anticipation written all over his friend's face. He smiled again. "Okay, so, where to start?"

Blair grabbed a pillow out from behind his back and put it in his lap as he pulled his legs into a lotus position. He leaned forward onto the pillow and looked expectantly at Jim. Ellison chuckled at the eagerness Blair displayed. One questioning eyebrow rose up to disappear briefly beneath the bandage on Blair's head.

"It's nothing, Chief."

"Jimmm," Blair managed.

"You're just always so eager to learn new things," Jim shrugged. "I guess, in a way, this is new information."

Sandburg grinned ruefully and nodded. He made a "go ahead" motion with his hand and waited.

"Okay, you already know you're Blair Sandburg. You are a detective with the Cascade Police Department. In fact, you're my partner."

Blair pointed to his chest. "Cop?" It squeaked out, indicating his disbelief.

Jim grinned and nodded. "For three years now. Before that you were an anthropology student and rode along as an observer."

Blair frowned. That's strange. "Ride… how… time?" He grimaced. Great, how's he supposed to make sense of that?

Ellison frowned. "Gimme a second, Blair." I think I can interpret that, but should I tell him about the Sentinel research? The doctor said nothing too stressful, yet. Think I'll just stick to the basics for now. "You started riding along with me as an observer to get information for your doctoral thesis. Eventually you ended up going to the police academy and became my official partner."

Blair thought about what Jim had just told him. Kind of strange to go from anthropology to police detective. There must be more to that story. Maybe he'll tell me more later. I wonder how I got hurt though?

"J'm… head… how?" he struggled to say touching his bandaged head gently.

Jim scowled. "We were chasing a perp, you went one way while I went the other to try and surround him. By the time I got around my side of the building, you were already in a hand-to-hand with the guy. I saw him hit you with a lead pipe."

Blair touched the left side of his head. Jim nodded grimly. "I couldn't get to you fast enough. By the time I crossed the parking lot, you already had him cuffed. I called the ambulance and back up. I'm sorry, Blair. I should have been there." Jim looked down at his hands, angry and frustrated that he wasn't able to protect his partner.

The Guide leaned forward and put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "…Fault…" Blair shook his head when Jim looked up. He tried to put what he meant into his expression.

Jim pursed his lips. "I know, Chief. But I'm your partner and I can't help feeling responsible."

**********

Jim leaned his head against his hands where they rested on the steering wheel of his truck. He was picking Blair up, taking him home finally.

Sandburg had made great improvements over the last three days. His speech had improved and he could understand what was being said as long as the speaker slowed down just a little. Blair’s writing skills though had not improved and he was scheduled to continue with a therapist for both speech and writing.

His amnesia had not improved either. Blair had full access to learned information, but could not recall any personal data. His Sentinel research was there, Jim had asked a few discreet questions, but Blair had no recall of their partnership.

And Jim still could not feel their bond.

That was the most frustrating part. Blair was surprisingly accepting of his friendship with Jim. That at least had not changed, but the in-jokes and history were gone. It wasn’t even like they had to start all over again, the trust was there, but the memories weren’t.

Jim sat back and sighed. As happy as he was to be taking Blair home again, he knew how difficult it would be. The Sentinel already felt the strain from not having his Guide around. He’d have to tell Blair soon.

He was afraid of putting too much pressure on the younger man, afraid the responsibility of their partnership might be too much coming at him without their history to support it. Jim was afraid that Blair would toss his hands up and call it quits.

He was afraid that even if Blair did stay, their connection might never return.

Stop stalling, Ellison! Jim got out of the truck and slammed the door shut. It was amazing how conflicted he felt about taking Blair home. On one hand he needed to have the kid back at the loft, safe and recovering. On the other, Jim was petrified, scared that Blair might never truly come home, that he might have lost his Guide, his friend, his brother, for good.

Jim shook his head, trying to clear the negative thoughts. Maybe some sage is called for here. He smirked at the thought and so it was easier to bring a smile to his face as he entered Sandburg's room.

"Ready to go home, Chief?" Ellison asked taking in the sight of his friend sitting on the bed. That was another thing that was different, Blair wasn't quite as "busy" as usual. Whether it was a temporary side effect of the head injury or a permanent change, Jim couldn't quite get used to the calmer Blair.

"Hi, Jim," Blair replied, smiling a little uncertainly up at the bigger man. "…ready am… I am ready when you are."

Blair turned and zipped the small duffel on the bed beside him. It contained the personal items Jim had brought for him over the last week. He fingered the bag nervously and snuck a glance at Jim. Ellison, whom he trusted without knowing why, tapped his fingers against his thigh and bit his lower lip.

Jim's anxious about this too. Blair smiled at Jim, trying to convey his confidence, but not sure he succeeded. Ellison replied by grabbing the duffel off the bed and catching Blair's elbow to help him stand.

"Let's get this show on the road, huh, Junior?"

Blair nodded and took a seat in the wheel chair the nurse had left, insisting he use it to the hospital exit. Jim pushed him through the halls listening to Blair's heart beat faster and faster as they reached the main lobby.

Blair waited for Jim to sign him out then stood and followed Jim to the door. He stopped suddenly just outside and turned to look back into the building. His heart pounded in his ears and for a minute Blair thought he might be having a panic attack.

A warm hand on his shoulder brought his attention from a dark thought. He was leaving the only place that he knew. The only place he could remember.

"It's going to be okay, Chief," Jim met Blair's eyes with a confident grin. "Let's go home."

Blair searched his friend's face for a minute then sighed and returned the grin. His mind might not remember the details of his friendship with this man, but his heart and soul seemed to. And he could live with that for now. "Yeah, man, let's go home."

***********

Captain Simon Banks watched Jim Ellison work at his desk for several minutes from behind his closed door. It had been four weeks since Sandburg had come home from the hospital. Four weeks of Ellison hovering over his partner. Four weeks waiting for any sign that his memory was returning. Four weeks of frustration.

Physically Blair was fine. He had some trouble with headaches if he worked on the computer too long, but had been declared fit to return to duty. After all, his knowledge was still intact. He'd quickly regained his reading and writing skills. And keeping Blair quiet just wasn't possible. Blair knew how to be a cop. He could quote procedures and fire his weapon with as much skill as before the injury.

But he still couldn't remember who he was. Where is Blair Sandburg? Simon sighed. The bouncing over-enthusiastic anthropologist that had waltzed his way into their lives so many years ago had been replaced by a more serious Blair Sandburg when he'd become a cop. But his zest for life and knowledge had remained. Blair the cop still bounced and spouted off about this or that tribal, cultural what-have-you as the need arose.

This new Blair still had that information locked up in his head. He'd proven that just a few days ago when a case jogged the memory of some anthropological theory related to the case they were working on. But Blair hadn't bounced through the explanation. His eyes hadn't sparkled at the looks of feigned impatience. He hadn't even realized that the rest of them found his spouting amusing and then frightening as they realized he didn't remember the in-joke.

How can you know all the trivia and not remember who you are? Simon scrubbed his hand hard over his head. Jim looks like hell warmed over. The Sentinel still hadn't told Blair about the whole Sentinel/Guide thing. Simon and the others had tried to fill in, but obviously that wasn't going to work much longer.

"Jim, come into my office, please," Simon said, without opening the door. He grinned a bit as he turned to take a seat behind his desk. Ellison may get a kick out of opening a door before I knock, but I get just as big a kick out of summoning him through closed doors.

Jim knocked on the door and opened it. "Sir?" he said poking his head through.

"Come in and sit down Jim."

Ellison sat ramrod straight in the chair in front of Simon's desk.

"How are you doing, Jim?"

"Fine, sir."

"You look like shit."

"Thanks for the support, Simon."

"Honestly, Jim, you need to tell Sandburg about the Sentinel thing. I know your senses have been acting up. And try as we may, no one can substitute for your Guide for long. You know that." Simon pinned the younger man with his eyes.

"I can't, Simon. The doctor said not to push it," Jim slumped in the chair looking every bit as tired as he felt.

"I don't buy that Jim. He's doing just fine back on the job. That has to be more stressful than finding out who he really is."

Jim shook his head and leaned forward elbows on his knees. "It's not that simple, Simon."

"Then explain it to me, Jim. I can't help you if you won't talk to me. I'd hoped you could turn to me, as a friend, while Sandburg is… unavailable. Don't you trust me?" Simon leaned forward onto his desk watching his friend for some sign of acceptance.

"Of course I trust you Simon," Jim said looking up at his friend. "I just don't know how to explain…"

Banks pursed his lips in thought. "Does it have to do with the link you mentioned at the hospital?"

Jim sat back suddenly regarding Simon. Maybe he does understand. "Yeah."

"So… tell me," Simon said softly remaining still so as to be as unthreatening as possible.

The Sentinel stared thoughtfully at the floor. How do I explain our bond? "I'm not sure I can explain."

Simon waited quietly.

"I didn't even realize that I… It was always there, Simon. I just didn't know it until it was gone!" Jim stood and started pacing. "I don't know how to describe it. It's a feeling… a knowledge…" He turned and looked at Simon at a loss for words.

"I want to understand Jim. Just say what you feel."

Jim blinked then spoke softly. "It's like seeing in color. You know what red looks like, yellow, blue… then one day you wake up and red is gone. You know what it looks like, but it's just not there. Nothing took its place it's just missing. Things don't even look all that strange, it could be that red never existed, but you know it did." Jim plopped back into the chair. "And it's gone." He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and his face into that hand.

Simon frowned trying to get a feeling for what Jim was going through from his description. He looked around his office. There were a few red items there, not many. Red truly wasn't a common color, not true red anyway, but what about the effects red had on other colors? Purple, orange, brown? Suddenly his office seemed more monotone than he'd thought.

"Jim," Simon said waiting until he had the man's attention before he continued. "Call Dr. Newman and ask him if you can push. I don't think Blair would forgive us if something happened to you because he failed to fulfill his role as your Guide."

"He hasn't failed anything, Simon!" Ellison said sitting forward on the defensive.

"You think he's gonna see it that way if you zone and get hurt or killed?"

Jim took several deep breaths. He shook his head. Simon was right he needed Blair's backup, even if it wasn't the old Blair.

Simon nodded and dialed the phone. "May I speak to Dr. Newman, please, it's regarding his patient, Blair Sandburg… This is Captain Banks… Thank you."

Jim watched hopefully as Simon spent a few minutes explaining their dilemma, not the Sentinel thing, but the partner/friend thing. Simon nodded and "hmmhh'd" a few times as Dr. Newman gave him advise.

"Okay, I see. Thank you, Doctor… Yes, I'll have him call you for an appointment. Good-bye." He hung up the phone and smiled.

"Well?" Jim asked impatiently, he had been too nervous to listen in.

"Newman said he couldn't see any reason not to encourage Blair's memory. He'd like to do another scan, but the physical trauma seems to be healing normally. He believes the path to Blair's memories may need to be rerouted, but that the memories themselves are probably still there."

"Then why hasn't he remembered? He's seen friends, been to places he knows, done things we used to do, what else can we possibly do to "stimulate" those memories?"

Simon sighed. "Jim, I think it's going to be up to you to reconnect the missing parts. Somehow his memories of himself and the bond you share are blocked off and you're the only one who might be able to remove the block."

Jim sat still looking very much like a lost little boy.

"I'll help you however I can, Jim. You know that don't you?"

Jim nodded. "It's just a lot… What if I can't get through to him?" Sky blue eyes met concerned brown ones.

"You will, Jim. Trust yourself. Trust him. It's always worked in the past. It will this time too." It has to.

**************************

Jim watched as Blair made himself comfortable on the couch. He flipped through the channels, stopping every once in a while if something caught his eye.

It was Jim's night to cook. In an effort to get things back to normal, Blair had insisted they do things the way they had before he was injured. Of course, Jim didn't tell him how often he made Blair's favorite dishes now instead of his own. Or how the choice of what to watch on TV was given to the younger man more often than not.

Now. I've got to do it now. Jim went into Blair's room and found the box Sandburg kept his old journals in. Jim pulled out a few and checked the dates. This is the one. The start of everything. He hugged the journal to him and went back into the living room.

"Hey, Chief?"

"Yeah, Jim?" Blair muted the TV as he turned his head toward his roommate.

"Would you read this for me?" Jim handed Blair his diary.

"Sure, what is it?" Blair asked running one hand over the cover.

"It's one of your personal journals. I just thought it might help you remember, that's all."

Blair regarded his friend for a moment. He is my friend even if I don't remember how or why or all the things we've been through. Some of the stories he'd gotten from the guys at the PD were hair-raising to say the least. But they'd all done their best to make him feel like part of the team.

You were part of the team, you just don't remember, remember? Blair snorted.

Jim backed up. "You don't have to if you don't want to, Blair."

Sandburg looked up startled to still see Jim standing there. "No. That's… I was just thinking… Thanks, I do want to read it, maybe it'll jog something up here," he said tapping his head.

Ellison blinked to cover his consternation. "I'm going to finish making dinner."

Blair nodded and opened the first journal.

Blair looked up from the journal and glanced at Jim in the kitchen. The Sentinel made a big production of ignoring him. Blair grinned a little and went back to reading.

Blair laid the journal on the couch and went over to sit on a stool in the kitchen. "Jim?"

Ellison glanced over his shoulder quickly returning his attention to making the salad. "Yeah, Chief?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a Sentinel?"

Jim shrugged. "You had a lot to deal with. You're still healing. I thought you might remember on your own," he said in a rush.

"I remember details…" Blair said pushing his hair behind his ears. "I know what a Sentinel is, what zoning means, that sort of stuff… but I don't remember my part of this."

Jim stopped messing with the salad, his shoulders slumping as he tried to control his emotions. As much as he'd tried not to, the hope that the journal would provide a magical cure was too strong. Now that hope crumbled taking the last of his reserves with it. Jim felt the tears in his eyes and couldn't stop them. It was almost as bad as the fountain.

"Jim?" Blair asked the concern in his voice all too familiar.

Jim shook his head and barged for the door. He grabbed his keys and ran, ignoring Blair's frantic calls.

********************

Blair paced the floor and looked at the clock again. Jim had been gone for hours. Blair had finished reading the first journal that covered almost six months then he'd gone into his room and found the box sitting open on the floor.

At first he'd convinced himself that reading them would bring his memory back. Then he could find Jim and everything would be okay. But now he knew, he understood, the journals were a way back, maybe not the way Jim wanted, but they would help reconnect the Sentinel and Guide. The partners, friends and brothers.

Blair hadn't been able to read all the entries. He'd skimmed, finding the most emotional ones, usually those that started out with the words "Oh my God!" or some such declaration. Sandburg found it amusing that he wrote so emotionally. Evidently that was how he usually related to people verbally too. Only he didn't remember.

Will it be better for my friends to accept that I don't remember? Or will they prefer to see the old Blair, even if I have to fake it, even if he doesn't exist anymore? Blair sighed. He liked the old Blair, at least what he knew of him. The journals held a lot of his personality.

But they didn't tell him everything. Like was this a normal reaction from Jim? Blair didn't think so. Of all the journal entries he'd read, very few of them mentioned a change from the stoic, emotionless Ellison he'd seen over the last month and a half. Ah, that's not fair. Jim just plays his emotions close to the vest. The old Blair could probably read him like a book. I just don't remember how.

Blair dialed Simon's home number pacing with the phone in hand while it rang.

"Banks."

"Captain Banks? It's Blair Sandburg."

Damn, who'd a thunk I'd miss hearing him call me Simon? "Blair? Is something wrong?"

"No, sir. Well, I don't think so. Do you know where Jim is?"

"He isn't at home?"

"No, sir. We were talking and I think I said something that upset him. But I'm not sure what. He left and hasn't come back. That was about five hours ago. I'm getting worried."

Simon frowned. "What were you talking about?"

Blair stopped his pacing in front of the couch and picked up the journal. "He showed me my old journals and after I'd read a bit, I asked him why he hadn't told me about his abilities. I mean, from what I recall, a Sentinel needs backup. Oh…"

"It's okay, Sandburg, I know Jim's a Sentinel. In fact, I encouraged him to tell you. You're his Guide and he needs you."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out, but I don't remember, Captain. And now I've hurt him somehow and I don't even know how."

"Okay, okay, let's stay calm. I have a few ideas. I'll check them out and get back to you. Have you tried his cell phone?"

"Ah, no. I didn't think about that."

"Never mind, Sandburg, I'll call it. I'm thinking he may need to talk to me anyway. Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets home."

"Okay, Captain. Thanks."

Banks hung up with Sandburg and hit the speed dial for Jim's cell phone. "Come on, Jim, pick up."

It rang through to the automatic message system. "Jim, this is Simon. Give me a call. You've got Sandburg worried." He hung up and thought for a second. Where would Jim go? Normally, Blair would have the answer to that question.

The phone rang in his hand startling him. "Banks."

"Simon."

"Jim. Where are you? Are you okay?"

Static filled silence echoed on the line for a long second. "Yeah. I'm okay."

"You want to come over here? Or I can meet you somewhere."

"Actually," Jim said in a wry, tired voice, "I'm outside your place now. Can I come in?"

"Hell, yes, man. Get up here." Simon hung up the phone and went to open the door.

Jim shuffled down the hall just a minute later, barely raising his head to acknowledge Simon as he entered the apartment.

"Sit down. You want coffee? Tea? A beer?"

Ellison sat on the couch and cast a sad look at Simon. "Tea sounds good," he said softly.

Simon started the water and pulled out cups and tea bags while it got hot. Once ready, he took the cup to Jim and sat beside him nursing his own steaming cup of tea.

"What happened?"

Jim shook his head, studying the depths of the tea. "I just let my hopes get too high. I knew just reading his journals wouldn't release the real Blair, but…" he looked at Simon, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"Yeah, I hear you," Simon nodded.

"So he read for a while and then came and asked me why I hadn't said anything about being a Sentinel. I gave him some line about his recovery and not being ready." Jim leaned forward set the tea on the coffee table and cupped his head with both hands. "He's not Blair. Not my Blair. Not my Guide. My partner." Tears streaked freely from his eyes.

"I can't do this, it's worse than… no at least he's alive, but I don't have… God this is so selfish!"

"What's selfish about missing your friend? Your brother? God knows I even miss the old Sandburg, Jim." Simon placed a hand on Jim's shoulder. "He called here, he's worried about you. I think he's trying, but we haven't really given him a chance yet."

Jim remained hunched over as he continued to talk dispiritedly. "I thought I would be okay just having him around, knowing he was alive and healthy. But I don't know if we can rebuild what we had without the history, Simon. Our bond was there from the start before, I realize that now. From that first day." He shrugged. "How can we rebuild something we didn't create in the first place?"

Simon's eyes widened as he realized what Jim was saying. Blair wasn't Jim's Guide anymore? What would Jim do? They knew he couldn't function as a Sentinel without a Guide for long. Would his senses go off-line? Or would they drive him crazy?

"Jim, let's not give up just yet. Dr. Newman seemed optimistic. He said it can take a full year for the brain to heal from a head injury. It hasn't even been two months yet. We need to sit down and talk to Blair. Maybe he'll have some ideas. I know he wants his life back as much as we want him back."

Jim looked up sharply, his cheeks streaked with tears. "Are you sure Simon? Are you so sure Blair wants to remember his old life? I'm not. He's been through so much, lost so much, been hurt, and killed for God's sake. Why would he want to remember?"

"Honestly, Jim, how many times does the man have to tell you he wants to be by your side? When will you get it through your thick skull that Blair is going to stick by you no matter what? He wants to remember, trust me." Banks stood up and went to the phone.

"I'm going to call him and let him know you're okay and that you're staying here tonight. In the morning, we're all going to get together and hash this out. Got it?"

Jim regarded Simon with a look somewhere between dread and yearning. He nodded slowly and listened to Blair's voice as Simon spoke to him on the phone.

*****************

Jim and Blair sat at opposite ends of their dining room table while Simon sat on the third side between them. They were both avoiding eye contact with each other and Simon. The big black man sighed and cleared his throat.

"Okay, we need to clear the air here and figure out the best way to help you both. Blair, I know you don't remember your past, but you know what a Sentinel is, right?" Simon asked.

"Yes, sir," Blair answered subdued. "I did a lot of reading last night." He glanced at Jim and quickly averted he eyes.

"Good. Then you may already know this, but I'm going to go over it anyway. A Sentinel always has a Guide. That's someone who helps him with his senses, acts as a calming influence and probably does a lot more than I can explain. You are Jim's Guide. And although I can't tell you exactly what all that involves, I can tell you that he needs you. And you need him.

I've watched the two of you for seven years now and your partnership, your friendship is deeper than any I've seen. It's almost… symbiotic." Simon looked at Jim until the Sentinel met his eyes, then turned to Blair. "Jim tells me there is a link between you, sort of telepathic as best as I can understand. He hasn't told you about any of this because he didn't want to push you too fast on your recovery. But he needs you to be more active in helping him with his senses." Simon watched Blair to see if he understood.

Sandburg stared at the tabletop as he spoke. "I'm sorry. I really do want to remember. I've felt like I could trust Jim from the moment I woke up, I just don’t know why." He looked up then and met Jim's gaze. "It's like a piece of me is missing. I can function fine, work, whatever, but I feel something is off…" Blair's voice became rough with emotion, "besides the fact that I don't know who I am. And I don't know how to fix it. I read through all those journals, Jim. I think I'd really like to be that Blair, but I can't remember." He slammed his fist on the table and took a deep ragged breath falling silent.

"Easy, Chief," Jim said with more calm than he felt. It was just as he'd feared. The link was gone. Blair even knew it was gone. How can we get it back? "Look, Blair, there's something…" he paused uncomfortable talking about this in front of Simon. They'd never told him about their bonding experiences. "There's something we might try, if you're willing." He watched Blair for some sign of reluctance. It wouldn't work if they both weren't willing.

"What, Jim?" Blair asked.

Jim sighed and glanced at Simon. "This isn't something Simon knows about. We've kept it just between us because it's pretty hard to understand."

Simon frowned. Not that he thought he knew everything about Sentinels and Guides, but he hadn't realized they had a huge secret. "I can leave…"

"No," Jim replied, "I think we may need you here. I just don't want you to feel we left you out on purpose. Well, we did, but nobody knows and it is… well, hard to explain."

"Try me."

Ellison nodded. "It's about the link we share, the bond. I told you it's always been there…"

Simon nodded.

"It was stronger after the fountain. After I brought Blair back. Somehow we connected on a spiritual level, it could have been a telepathic link, we never could be sure. And after the dissertation, when we took that week off…" Jim trailed off watching Simon for a sign of understanding.

Simon nodded again. Blair listened, fascinated.

"While we were at the cabin, something happened. The Sentinel part of me and I guess the Guide part of Sandburg shared something. It was a sharing of mind, spirit, soul… I can't explain it well. Somehow we were in each other's head and experienced each other's memories. It gave us a look at how we saw each other, ourselves and the past. It was intense, to say the least."

"Man," Blair said softly. "I can't believe I don’t remember any of this. This sucks."

Simon regarded Jim for a minute. "So you… mind-melded?"

Jim chuckled and looked at Blair. The younger man had an awed grin on his face. Jim looked back at Simon. "Yeah, I guess that's the best description. Only it was almost more like downloading information from one computer to another. Later, throughout the rest of the week, we each had flashes of memories. We talked about them when they occurred. I think that's what got us back on track."

"So, you want us to try this meld?" Blair asked.

Jim nodded slowly. "We've… bonded a few times since then. Usually when things are really stressful or one of us is injured." Jim looked at Simon again. "When Chapel kidnapped Blair last year, it was our bond that allowed me to reach him. That was the first time we'd done any thing long distance. Usually we have to be in contact with each other."

Simon thought for a second. "I thought you… weren't you in the "jungle" when you and Blair made contact that time? Is that how the bonding is?"

The Sentinel closed his eyes realizing that Simon had a valid concern. He thought about that experience and their other bonding experiences then opened his eyes. "You're right, Simon. Except for that first time, we've always "met" in the jungle. I usually follow our bond or the panther to get there myself. I'm not sure how Blair finds it." He turned worried eyes on his lost Guide.

"Hang on a sec," Blair said rising, "can you tell me when the first bonding occurred? And dates for a few others?"

Jim frowned, confused but rattled off a few pertinent dates. Blair nodded and moved quickly to his room. He returned carrying several of his journals.

"If I know myself," he cast a quirky grin at the other two men, "and from reading these, I think I'm right, I probably made copious notes on the phenomena. We just have to find them."

Simon and Jim squirmed uncomfortably as Blair passed them each a journal. "Check out the dates Jim gave me." He opened the journal he had and thumbed the pages. He started to read then looked up casting a confused look at the pair.

"What's wrong?" Blair asked.

"I don't know that I should be reading your private journals, Blair," Simon replied. Jim nodded.

Sandburg sighed. "They're my journals, guys. Just because I don't know what's in them doesn't mean I can't give you permission."

"It just doesn't feel right, Chief."

"Oh for heaven's sake. You think the old Blair wouldn't hand them to you in a second if he thought it would help?"

They both looked at each other and then back at Blair and shook their heads.

"Then read. I'll be embarrassed later if need be." The younger man pushed his hair back and started the entry he had found. Blair had taken the first bonding date hoping to gain a little more insight. He'd missed this entry during his quick scan of the journals the night before.

Blair looked up. Simon had an intense look of concentration on his face. Jim was frowning a bit, but nothing to be concerned about. He decided that the rest of this entry would be better saved for later. He had the information pertinent to what they were doing now. Blair flipped through the remaining pages and found another entry that referred to a bonding experience.

Blair snorted. Got that right. And continued reading.

Blair blinked and swallowed hard. This is what I'm missing. That peace. He glanced up at Jim and found the Sentinel watching him. The sadness in Jim's eyes overwhelmed Blair and he ducked his head pretending interest in the journal as he composed himself.

Simon cleared his throat to get their attention. Both men looked at their captain.

"So, what I read," Simon informed them, "indicates you just need to meditate and then be in physical contact." He frowned. "I'm sure there's more to it…"

"Yeah," Blair continued, "but the rest is metaphysical." He found Jim's eyes and held the gaze this time, trying to convey his own need to have this succeed.

Jim nodded. "You ready?"

Blair nodded and the two men went to sit on the floor by the couch. Simon followed and sat in one of the armchairs.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Just watch, Simon," Jim explained. "There shouldn't be any danger in this, but if we seem to be having trouble, break the contact."

"Okay."

Blair knelt in front of Jim. "I don't remember exactly what we did, but I think we should do what we did the first time only add in the meditation."

Jim nodded and got up onto his knees as well.

"Do you need help with the meditation?" Blair asked.

Jim shook his head. Both men closed their eyes and a short time later leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

Simon watched in awe with a little trepidation. Nothing really seemed to be happening, but if a bonding was taking place, from what he'd read of Blair's journal, quite a bit was actually going on inside their minds.

Blair felt Jim's forehead against his. He'd meditated a few times since getting out of the hospital, but this time he needed to go deeper. He let his awareness of the outside world fade until the beating of his own heart was the only external input.

Simon watched the two, only about ten minutes had passed. Jim seemed to be fine but Blair was looking pale and a fine sheen of sweat lathered his brow. Simon touched Jim's shoulder and shook his head as the image of a jungle flashed before him briefly.

"Jim, come out of it. Blair's in trouble."

The Sentinel sat up straight, his eyes opening immediately. "What is it, Simon?"

"Blair seems to be having some trouble," Banks said with a nod towards the younger man.

"Blair," Jim said putting both hands on his Guides shoulders. "Come on, Chief, time to wake up." He shook Blair gently then touched his face with one hand.

Wide blue eyes blinked open, unfocused. "Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief. You okay?"

Blair shook his head to clear the fuzzy feeling, then rearranged his sitting position into a more comfortable tailor-style. He concentrated on what he had experienced, missing the concerned glances of his friends.

"So?" Simon asked. "Did it work?"

Jim frowned slightly and shook his head.

Blair turned bleak eyes on the other two. "I was somewhere, but not in a jungle. It was just a gray expanse. Then I heard a wolf howling."

Jim tensed and Blair saw a spark of something in his eyes.

"Does that mean something?"

"The wolf is your spirit animal. Mine's the black panther. We've both seen them in the jungle."

Blair sighed. "I couldn't see him, but I heard him. I ran and tried to catch up to the wolf, but he always moved away." He looked to Jim for reassurance. "What does it mean?"

Jim settled back against the couch and ran a hand over his face. "I don't know Chief. You're usually the one that interprets these things."

"Well," Simon interrupted, "I'd say it's a good thing. You heard the wolf, that must mean you are still in good graces with this whole Guide thing, right?"

Jim's eyes lit with hope again. He nodded. "Simon's right, Blair. I don't think you would have heard the wolf if there wasn't a chance we could reconnect. We may just have to be patient and allow you time to heal."

Blair considered what they'd said and nodded. "What did you see, Jim?"

Ellison hesitated slightly before responding. "The jungle and the panther. I called for you, but didn't see anything else." He didn't see any need to worry Blair over the condition of the panther. The wolf was probably in just as bad condition considering the neglect they'd suffered.

"Okay," Simon said, standing and stretching. "If we're done here for now, I'm going to go home. I think we got a lot accomplished." He eyed his men for a second. "You might want to fill Blair in on helping you with your senses, run a few tests. The bond may not be back, but I think he's still your best chance at control, Jim."

Jim nodded. "Thanks, Simon." He started to rise to see the captain out.

"Stay put, I can see myself out. I'll see you Monday." Simon grabbed his coat and left.

"So what now?" Blair asked.

"How about lunch and a beer and we'll talk Guide stuff?" Jim grinned, feeling better than he had in quite a while.

Blair grinned back. "Sounds good to me."

*********

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. Blair was able to help Jim when he used his senses, but the bond was still missing. They tried bonding several times, but that only frustrated them both as Jim still found himself alone in the jungle and Blair chased the sound of the wolf across the empty plain.

Simon watched them and offered words of encouragement, often sending them home a little early if possible. The stress of the situation was wearing them out. Both men showed signs of fatigue. He did not mention his own little view of the jungle to them. Don't think I'm ready for that quite yet.

**************

Jim smiled tiredly at Blair as they waited to get around the irate woman blocking the way. The desk sergeant rolled his eyes as she brandished her cane at him and yanked on the sleeve that she held in an iron grip with her other hand. The young man attached to the sleeve already sported a black eye and didn't seem inclined to try to escape. He stood on one foot, barely putting enough pressure on the other to keep his balance.

"I want someone to arrest this young punk. He tried to rob me. Good thing I can take care of myself, that's all I can say. Not a cop or good-Samaritan in sight."

"Yes, ma'am," the desk sergeant said for the fifth time. "I understand that, but you still have to fill out the paperwork…"

"Paperwork? I'll fill out the paperwork after someone takes this hoodlum and locks him up." She shook the young man in her grasp and he winced at the rough treatment, but remained silent.

Jim swallowed his grin and moved up to the desk, Blair followed him.

"Perhaps we can help, Bill," Jim said aiming an understanding smile at the woman.

"Are you a cop?" she asked pointing the cane at his chest.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And him?" she indicated Blair.

"He's my partner. I think if you'll let us, we can get everything straightened out. Let me take this young man and Detective Sandburg will help you with the forms." He touched her arm and cast a glare at the man she still had a tight hold on.

"I ain't going nowhere else with her, she's nuts, man," the kid said, shuffling closer to Ellison for protection.

The older woman glowered at her attempted mugger and raised her cane back to deliver another blow. "Watch your mouth…"

Blair caught the cane with one hand before she could follow through. "Hold on, ma'am. You don't want to…"

The lady started to turn, pushing the solid wooden cane back with her movement. "Let go of my cane," she said as she turned. The motion shoved the end of the instrument sharply into Blair's chin.

Jim watched in horror as Sandburg's eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped to the floor. "Blair!"

The desk sergeant acted quickly directing another officer to take the kid from Ellison as he dialed the phone to get an ambulance.

Jim knelt beside his partner, assessing the damage. A bruise was already forming on Blair's chin, his breathing and heart rate seemed steady, but he was out like a light.

The old woman had dropped her cane and was watching Jim and Blair, a look of horror on her face. "I am so sorry… I didn't mean…"

Another officer nodded sagely and calmly directed her away from the area, reassuring the woman that no one blamed her for the accident.

Jim barely acknowledged anything going on around them until the paramedics arrived and he watched them load Blair into the ambulance. Simon guided him to his car and drove to the hospital.

**********************

They sat in the waiting room. Or rather, Simon sat, Jim paced. He walked ten steps one way, then ten steps back. He sat for a second then stood and paced the distance again. Simon sighed knowing it would be useless to tell Jim to stop.

It had only been twenty minutes since they'd arrived. Dr. Newman had been called and had told them Blair was undergoing another round of brain scans. The doctor was concerned about secondary injuries, repeated trauma to the brain so soon after Blair's last head injury.

Jim shuddered. How can this have happened? We were getting close, I could feel it. And now what? More damage? Maybe worse than before? Maybe permanent? He sat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands. I can't do this. Please God, let him be all right. Don't make us go through any more. Please.

Simon laid a comforting hand on Jim's shoulder knowing they were probably thinking the same thing. Heaven help them if Sandburg has more problems.

They both looked up as Dr. Newman came through the doors at the end of the hall. He nodded at the men and took a seat beside Jim.

"Well, so far there's no sign of additional trauma. I'm going to have the scans repeated in an hour if he doesn't regain consciousness by then. I'm a little concerned that he's still out, but that may be due to the previous injury. His "bounce back" time isn't quite up to normal yet."

"Can I see him?" Jim asked.

"Sure, let me know when he wakes up though, okay? I need to see him as soon as possible," Newman caught Jim's eye to make sure he understood.

Jim nodded.

"Okay, he's just down the hall, ICU 4. I want to keep him overnight once he regains consciousness."

Ellison nodded again, but was already halfway down the hall.

Simon caught Dr. Newman's arm, but waited until Jim was through the doors to speak softly. "Any idea what we can expect? You keep saying "when he regains consciousness," are you sure he will?"

Dr. Newman frowned slightly. "There's no reason to believe he won't, Captain. As I said, the scans were clean. I do want to keep an eye on him and rerun the scans in the morning. That's all we can do for now."

"Thank you, Doctor," Simon said.

He nodded and tilted his head toward the door. "You can join Detective Ellison if you wish."

Simon nodded. "I'll give him a few minutes."

***********

Jim stood beside Blair's bed. "Well, here we are again, Chief. I'm beginning to think you just like it here." He took a quick inventory of the monitors hooked up to his partner. "Can't be the food. The nurses, yeah, must be the nurses. Funny how you never end up going out with any of them. Guess they've all got you pegged, Romeo."

He sat down in the chair by the bed and wrapped his hand around Blair's wrist letting the steady pulse flow through him. "Maybe you just feel at a disadvantage cause they've already seen you in the buff." Jim chuckled. "Nah, never known you to be shy. Nope, I've got it figured out, you just love to be pampered. These trips to the hospital always end with me hovering over you in Blessed Protector mode for at least two weeks. That's got to be it. Well, no more, kiddo. From now on I'm gonna hire the hairiest nurse I can find to take care of you at home. Then maybe you'll stop ending up here."

"Sounds like wishful thinking to me, Jim," Simon said pulling another chair in beside Jim's.

The Sentinel snorted. "You got a better idea, I'm all ears."

Simon chuckled. "I think he does it to get out of the paperwork."

Laughter burst from Jim's lips. "I think you're right Simon. That's the best explanation yet."

A soft murmur came from the bed and both men turned to see dark blue eyes blinking at them.

"What was that, Chief?"

"I said, it's the only way to get away from bossy Sentinels and grouchy Captains."

Jim grinned. "That's what I thought you said." He turned to Simon. "Could you get Dr. Newman, he wanted to see Blair as soon as he came to."

Simon nodded and left the room.

Ellison looked down at his partner. Blair's eyes were closed. Jim gently brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead. Blue eyes met blue.

Jim's knees started to buckle as the panther's scream was joined by a joyous howl.

"Jim?" Blair cried reaching to keep his friend from falling.

The Sentinel grabbed the edge of the bed and managed to guide himself into the chair. "Chief?" he asked desperately wanting confirmation.

"What's wrong, Jim?" Blair asked, pushing himself gingerly into a sitting position. He latched one hand onto Jim's shoulder and blinked in surprise. "I…"

"You feel it?" Jim asked softly.

"Oh, my God! Jim! I remember!" he shook Jim's shoulder. "I remember everything!" He looked deep into Jim's eyes as if trying to physically see his friend's soul. The Guide reached to pull his Sentinel closer and was met more than halfway.

They ended up in a hug and the bond flared between them. The jungle appeared and yet they stayed in the embrace there as well. Neither spoke, they just allowed the memories of the last few months to flow. The fears, anguish, hope and uncertainty all shared and accepted. And now the peace was reasserted.

Simon cleared his throat after watching the two for a second. He smiled having caught just a small glimpse of the jungle himself as he entered the door. Jim and Blair broke the embrace as Dr. Newman entered the room although they maintained contact. Jim's hand on Blair's shoulder.

"I remember, Doc," Blair beamed before Newman could say anything.

The doctor raised his eyebrows. "That's great, Blair. Hope you don't mind, but I still want to do a few tests. And I'm going to keep you overnight."

"Ah, man," Blair complained.

Jim squeezed his shoulder. "One more night, Chief. I want to make sure you're okay."

Blair smiled quietly up at his friend. "Okay, Jim."

*******************

Blair smiled warmly at the sign above the door. "Welcome Back, Blair!"

It was strange, but fitting. He remembered everything, including the last few months of amnesia. And now he was back at work after just a few days off to be sure his rattled brain wasn't going to cause any more problems.

With the clean bill of health, he'd hoped to get back out on the streets with his partner. Instead, Simon had set him behind a desk for another week stating he wasn't allowed to get anywhere near any little old ladies. Especially ones wielding canes.

Blair's grin widened as he let his gaze wander fondly over the people in the room. Everyone from Major Crime had pitched in and gotten him crash helmet. H's advice was to wear it any time he got in a vehicle with Jim. It wasn't actually a gag, the doctor had suggested he wear some type of protection to keep from inadvertently hitting his head and causing further damage.

Jim was all for it. But Blair quickly pointed out that the cane had hit him in the jaw and a helmet would have done nothing to protect him. Beside the fact that it would mess up his hair. Comments about padded cells and Michelin tires followed, but the helmet was relegated to vehicular use only.

"Ready to go home, Chief?" Jim asked entering the bullpen from the hall door.

"Ready when you are, man."

"Well, let's go. I'm hungry. I think there's a pizza with my name on it somewhere."

"Ah, Jim, can't we grab something with a little less grease?"

"Nope."

"Ah, Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"We can't go for pizza."

"Why not?" Ellison growled.

"I can't remember where any pizza places are."

"Good thing I'm driving."

"Oh, man, wait here a second," Blair raced back into the bullpen and reemerged wearing the helmet and a cheek-splitting grin.

The elevator opened and Blair popped in. "What?" he asked his partner who was still standing in the hall.

"What's with the helmet, Sandburg?" he growled from outside the elevator.

"Well, you are driving, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, I have to protect myself, you know," he punched the close door button with a mischievous grin. "Doctor's orders!"

"Sandburg!" the Sentinel bellowed as the doors closed in front of him.

The end.

Comments are always welcome, please let me know what you think. Judy

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