Inevitable Series 01 The Inevitable Read online

  July 1998

  Just a couple of quick notes: This is my first Sentinel FanFiction. I hadn't really planned on doing this at all but the story kept rattling around in my head so rather than be sent off to a nice room with padded walls, I decided to write it down. It is Part Two of the season finale, Sentinel Too. When I watched that episode, my feeling at the time was, "Well, if Blair survives this, Jim's going to have to do a hell of a lot more than just apologize if he expects Blair to ever have anything to do with him again." This is the result of that thought. If all goes well, I do plan a sequel.

  Next, the character of Megan Conner does not appear in my story. Although I believe Anna Galvin is a fine actress, I simply do not see her purpose in the show and, therefore, cannot write for her. (Maybe I'll change my mind in the future but for now...) Lastly, I'd like to dedicate this story to all the other Sentinel FanFiction writers out there. You've all given me so many hours of entertainment that I hope this short piece will pay you back in same in some small way.

  Hope you have half as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Now, without further delay...

  The Inevitable

  by Beth Manz

  They'd all told him his friend was dead. But he hadn't believed them. Had insisted he could hear a heartbeat. And he had been right.

  Jim Ellison sat beside the hospital bed wishing for the hundredth time that Blair would open his eyes. Even just for a second. Just so Jim could see that he was still in there, still alive.

  You can hear his heartbeat. You know he's alive.

  Yes, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to see his eyes. Hear his voice. See him smile. God, he wanted that more than anything else. Because that would tell him that Blair wasn't just alive but that he forgave him as well.

  "How did I let this happen, Chief?" He'd gone over it so many times in his head but no matter how he worked it through, he came up with the same answer over and over. He'd screwed up...big time. He'd let Alex cloud his judgement to the point of near death for Blair. He'd tossed him out of the loft. Cut him off from the station and everyone there who cared for him. Left him alone and vulnerable. And Blair had almost died because of it.

  Never again. He would never let anything happen to Blair again. Hell, if he had to follow the kid around like a bloodhound the rest of his life, he would. Because he sure as hell was never going to repeat the scene they'd played out this morning at that fountain.

  A shiver ran up his spine as the memory of Blair's body floating in the cold water rushed through him. He pushed it away, willing it to stay in the farthest reaches of his mind. He couldn't deal with that. Not now. Not while Blair was still unconscious.

  A soft moan drew his attention. Jim shifted in his chair, his hand coming to rest on Blair's. Slowly, blue eyes blinked, once, twice, then opened. Confusion marred his brow. "Jim?" His name flowed softly over the lips, barely audible to the Sentinel.

  "I'm right here, buddy." He squeezed the hand reassuringly, then stood so he could look down at his Guide. "You're in the hospital but you're okay."

  Blair's gaze came to rest on him. There was momentary relief followed almost as quickly with what Jim could only describe as anger. "Why are you here?"

  The question took Jim off guard. "Where else would I be?" Blair squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away. "You threw me out, Jim. You ended our partnership." The words came out in a choked gasp. "I'd think you'd be anywhere but here."

  Jim reached across the bed and brushed hair back from Blair's face. "I made mistakes, I know--"

  "I can't do this now." Blair's words, softly spoken, stopped Jim. "Please, just go."

  "Blair, I--"

  "Just go!"

  Jim staggered back a step, taken aback by the fierceness behind the words. "I'll get your doctor," he said, retreating to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, he fell against the wall, trying to get his breathing under control. He had pictured the moment Blair would awaken so many times that he had it down pat in his head. Blair would wake up, thankful that Jim was there. Jim would apologize for everything he had said and done. Blair would forgive him, probably wanting to add his own apology to the mix. They would make plans for him to move back to the loft and life would go back to normal. Never in any of his imaginings had Jim been told to get out.

  He rubbed a hand over his forehead. Blair's just trying to deal with everything, he told himself. He's going to hate himself when he realizes what he's done. Jim closed his eyes, took a deep breath and prayed he was right.

  Blair stared up at the ceiling not seeing the off white, hospital tiles. Seeing instead, the look on Jim's face when he'd told him to leave. He hadn't wanted to hurt him but he just couldn't deal with him right now. Jim had wanted to apologize. Take everything back with a few words and a squeeze of his shoulder. Well, it wasn't that easy. At least, not for him.

  "You threw me out, man," he whispered, hoping Jim wasn't standing outside the door listening. "You threw me out of your life." He could feel tears building behind his eyes but he gritted his teeth and willed them away. He would not cry. He would not give in to his emotions. Because if he did, he might just end up forgiving Jim and more than anything, he did not want to do that.

  Two days. It had been two days since Blair woke up. Two days since Jim had been told to get out. Two days and he still hadn't been allowed back in. Simon had come. So had Joel, Rafe and Henri. They'd all stayed for short visits, just to make sure Blair was okay. But they all said the same thing when they left -- Blair just wasn't the same.

  Death can do that to you, Jim thought bitterly.

  He stood outside Blair's hospital room listening to the familiar heartbeat on the other side of the door. Slow and steady. Asleep? Probably. Well, that was best. If he was asleep, he couldn't tell him to get out again

  He had hoped that Blair would call him that first night, ask him to please come back, that he didn't want to be alone, that he wanted more than anything else to have his friend with him, talking to him, making sure he was alright. Because Jim knew Blair had to be afraid. Alex was still on the loose. Still might have a grudge against him. Yet, he hadn't called. Hadn't asked for anyone except Naomi.

  He blames me.

  But he knew that wasn't all there was to it. When Jim questioned Simon after his visit, the Captain had told him that Blair seemed...uninterested. Jim thought it was a strange description. Especially when applied to Blair. The kid was interested in everything. Life was his research project. The thought of that energy being extinguished had twisted through Jim as deeply as any knife could have.

  The kid needed time to recover. That was apparent to everyone. But Jim couldn't sit back and let him do it alone. Naomi had finally been located but she wouldn't arrive until tomorrow and Jim would be damned if he was going to let Blair spend his last night in the hospital all by himself.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door and entered Blair's room. Flowers and cards stood out on every open surface, some from Major Crimes, others from the University. All of them wishing Blair a speedy recovery.

  Jim moved toward the bed, his gaze locked on his Guide, his friend. Blair lay quietly, his breathing deep and even, yet his brow was creased as if in some kind of pain. Jim reached out and brushed a hand across his brow until the lines disappeared and the face smoothed into peacefulness once again.

  He sat beside the bed for nearly an hour before the grad student began to stir. A soft moan. The blinking of his eyes. And then his name, once again spoken so softly, Jim had to strain to hear it.

  "Hey, Chief, thought you might want some company tonight." He kept his voice light, hoping to mask his own hurt about being so cut-off from his friend.

&nbs
p; "Not really." Blair voice was terse. "You can go back ho--to the loft." His gaze shifted to the blanket covering him as his voice cracked slightly. "My mom will be here tomorrow. She's all the company I need right now."

  Jim flinched at the words, knowing they were said to get a reaction, to get him to leave. But he wasn't about to grant that wish. "Blair, we have to talk." He hadn't planned on saying that but now that he had, there was no turning back.

  "There's nothing to talk about." Blair's gaze remained on the blanket. But Jim could hear the increase in his heartbeat, sense the rise in his temperature.

  "I know you're mad at me and you have every right to be, but I want to make it up to you. I want to make things right, like they used to be," he blurted out. It was what he had wanted to say that first day when Blair had awakened. He just wanted to know that when Blair left the hospital tomorrow, he would be leaving with him. Would be going back to the loft, back to their old life.

  Slowly, Blair's gaze shifted to Jim's. But instead of the forgiveness he expected to see there, he was once again greeted with anger. "You think I can just go back to the way things used to be?" The words came out tightly, each one bitten off and spit out. "Are you really that naive? Or do you just think I am?"

  Naive? Jim's brow creased. He didn't think the idea was naive. Sure, he had big apologies he had to make but it wasn't something they couldn't get past. At least, that was what he had thought...until now.

  "I'm sorry, Blair. I know I've made mistakes but I--"

  "Mistakes!" Blair's voice boomed through the small room. "Jim, I came home one day to find all my stuff packed up and was told to get out. No discussion. No apology. No explanation. Just get out." His voice cracked on the last word and he stopped for a minute, swallowing tightly before continuing. "And if that wasn't bad enough, when I try to talk to you about it, I'm told that you don't trust me, that you don't want me as a partner anymore. That you don't want me in your life anymore!"

  Jim dropped his gaze from Blair's, no longer able to look into those cold, accusing eyes. God, I'm an asshole. He ran a hand over his short hair, wishing he could go back in time and change everything he had done. Make the lunatic who had hurt Blair so badly just disappear.

  "In one grand moment," Blair continued, his voice teetering with emotion, "you trashed my life. I mean, I always knew that this arrangement was made up of your rules. Follow the Ellison rules and no one gets hurt. But I dared go outside the line and was tossed out faster than last week's garbage."

  "Blair, I was an idiot," Jim sputtered, trying to stop the flow of words being tossed at him. "I shouldn't have done it. I know that now. But I--"

  "Doesn't matter." Those two words, spoken with such conviction, stopped Jim. "It doesn't matter what you say because it is over, man."

  "What do you mean, 'it's over'? Nothing is over."

  Blair shook his head, a sad smile pulling up the corners of his mouth. "It's all over, man. You don't need me as your Guide anymore; you haven't for a while. I stayed because I wanted to stay and because you let me. But I was a fool."

  Jim didn't want to hear the rest of this. But Blair plunged on, heedless of Jim's wants.

  "I broke my mom's number one rule: don't get too attached." Blair spoke the words softly, reverently. "I told you when I turned down the trip to Borneo that it was because I realized that what we had wasn't just about research anymore, that it was about friendship."

  "I remember," Jim whispered. And he did. He could still see that exact moment in his mind. Hear the tone of Blair's voice when he said the words. Everything had changed that day. He had felt secure in the knowledge that Blair wasn't going to just decide to up and leave one day. That he planned to stay for the long haul.

  So why did I think it was okay for me to just toss him out two years later?

  "Blair, I had no right to pack up your stuff. I never really wanted you to leave."

  Blair nodded as he spoke as if he knew this to be true, yet the anger did not leave his eyes. "That's what I thought at first. I thought, Jim's just going through something. He'll call in a few days, I'll move back in, everything will be cool again. But that didn't happen. Instead, you stood in the bullpen and told me you didn't want me as your partner anymore."

  Jim shook his head, trying to deny what he knew was true. "I know what I said but I didn't mean it."

  "It doesn't matter." Blair shifted his gaze to the ceiling, his hands clenching and unclenching the blanket tucked around him. "Because when you said that, you took it all, man. I suddenly realized that for three years, I was with you by your choice and your choice only. I had no say. And when you took it away, without any regret..." He shook his head.

  "I have regrets," Jim blurted out. "I have monumental regrets. If you'd just listen--"

  "It doesn't matter now."

  Jim wanted to reach out and choke him, tell him to stop saying that. It did matter. He mattered. Their friendship mattered. But Blair's next sentence cut off anything he might have said.

  "I can't go back to that life...ever." He turned a steely gaze toward Jim. "Because when does it happen again? When do you decide that I'm not necessary, or I'm annoying, or you're just plain sick of me and want me out?" He raised one eyebrow. "Because it's all yours man. Your house. Your job. Your friends. It always has been. I'm just there until you decide otherwise."

  "That's not true." His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. Maybe because he was so shocked by Blair's words. Or maybe because he knew they were true. "The guys in Major Crimes are your friends."

  "When I'm working with you," Blair inserted. "Partnership over, friendship over." He continued before Jim could disagree. "You really think Joel or Rafe is going to come over to the university and have lunch with me so we can discuss my latest anthropology paper?" The humorless grin was back. "Jim, when you told me it was over, I realized the power you had over our entire relationship. I can't go back to that."

  Jim stared down at him. What could he say? He could promise to never toss Blair out of his life again. But if someone had asked him a month ago if he would ever consider getting rid of the kid, he would have laughed in his face. Yet here he stood, knowing he had done just that. "God, Blair, I wish I could go back and just erase everything."

  "But you can't, man." His gaze shifted back up toward the ceiling and Jim realized it was more to keep himself under control than to avoid looking at Jim. He could hear the catch in Blair's breathing, see the moisture behind his eyes. Blair didn't want what was happening to happen. He just couldn't change the truth. "I don't blame you, Jim. I let myself get into this situation. I let myself believe that our relationship was something more than it was."

  Jim felt as if a cold hand had closed around his heart. He really believes that I never cared. The thought staggered him and he gripped the bed, afraid without it, he might fall to the floor. "Blair, you have no idea what you mean to me. You have--"

  "Please, Jim." His eyes closed against the soft plea. "I can't hear this. I can't--" His mouth clamped shut. A singled tear escaped his eye, tracking down the side of his face before wetting the pillow beneath his head. "Don't worry about me, man. I'll be okay." He opened his eyes again, taking a deep breath before turning to face Jim. "I'm going to finish my dissertation -- don't worry, it's not going to be about sentinels. I really am going to write about closed societies -- and then I'll have my Ph.D. After that, anything goes." He attempted a smile but to Jim it looked more like a grimace. "I'll land on my feet like I always do."

  Jim blinked several times as Blair's words rolled around in his head, trying to find the meaning behind them. "You're saying good-bye," he said, sudden clarity pounding through him.

  "Face it, Jim. This had to happen sooner or later, it was inevitable. Right now, we both just need to get on with our lives.. Hell, I'm grateful to even have a life. Did I thank you for that, by the way, because I meant to."

  Jim shook his head numbly. No, he didn't think Blair had thanked him. But it didn't matter because Blair was
saying good-bye. "I can't just let you go," he muttered.

  "Hey, man, you let me go a while back. I'm just playing catch up here."

  Jim stepped closer to the bed and reached out, intending to place a hand on Blair's shoulder, give it a squeeze to tell him that he didn't want this to happen.

  "Please don't touch me."

  The soft request froze his arm in place, inches from Blair's shoulder. "I just--"

  "It doesn't mean anything anymore. I can't let it." The last part was spoken Sentinel-soft.

  Jim backed away from the pale young man in the bed, listening to his fast beating heart, staring into his familiar blue eyes. But seeing a total stranger.

  Jim sat at his desk staring at the computer screen in front of him. He was supposed to be finishing some paperwork from last week, but he just couldn't seem to concentrate. Blair had been released from the hospital this morning, and it had taken all of his will-power not to show up to drive him home.

  Home.

  He shook his head. The loft was no longer a home. When Blair moved in, the place had been barren, empty. Slowly, over the two and a half years that Blair lived with Jim, that had changed. Artifacts had begun showing up on the shelves, each with a story of its own. Pictures had gone up on the walls. Photographs on the end tables. Little by little, Blair had made it a home. And although Jim had never told him, he had been glad of it.

  Now, when he walked through the loft, the only thing he could hear was the echo of Blair's words. I can't go back to that life...ever. He heard them loudest when he stood in the doorway to Blair's room, staring in at that empty space, wishing--

  He shook his head. There was no point in wishing. Blair was gone and right now, Jim had no idea what he could do to get him to come back.

  "Ellison!"

  Jim jumped at Simon's bark. "Yes, sir?"

  "My office. Now." Simon did not wait for a reply, simply stepped back inside and waited for his detective to comply with his command.

  Sighing, Jim pushed up from his desk and made his way to the captain's office.