Inevitable Series 04 The Unrelenting Read online

  September 1998

  Okay, here's another installment in my Inevitable series. Hopefully, I have managed to tie up all the loose ends out there. If you haven't read the first three parts, I think you'll have a hard time with this one.

  As always, Megan Conner does not appear in my story . Although I think Anna Galvin is a fine actress, I just don't see the need for her character and thus cannot write for her.

  Thanks to everyone who takes the time to drop an e-mail. It's always nice to know someone is actually out there reading this stuff!

  This one is for Shycat and Kim. Shycat for all her generous work on the web page on my behalf. And Kim for keeping me sane through our daily talks. I don't know what I do without you guys!

  Without further delay.....

  The Unrelenting

  Part Four of the Inevitable Series

  Beth Manz

  Simon stood in the clearing of the abandoned campground looking down at the makeshift altar, at the surgical instruments laid out all around it. A chill touched his skin, making him shiver. They'd had Blair out here. Had planned to use the instruments to… He turned away. Pushed the images from his mind. Sandburg was home. Safe.

  Jim had been out here earlier. He'd come alone, leaving Blair at the loft. Sleeping, he'd told Simon who had been surprised the detective would leave his wounded partner alone so soon after bringing him home. But Jim had not been there long. He'd taken one look at the pole Blair had been cuffed to then a longer look at the altar before turning and silently moving back to his truck. He'd left without saying another word.

  Simon looked up as the coroner signaled his men over. They'd found the last body. Sandburg had told them there'd be three. All butchered here, the same way the kid would have been. Simon had been horrified by the details. His gaze shifted once again to the pole Sandburg had been cuffed to. Jarred Lowry had actually believed he could become the young anthropologist. Memories of another man who'd decided Sandburg's life would be better than his own skidded through his mind. David Lash. His abduction of the grad student still haunted Simon and he closed his eyes against the unwanted comparison.

  Why Sandburg? How could one person attract two such demented killers in one lifetime? But he knew how. It was Blair's exuberance, his intelligence, his overall zest for life. Those qualities made him a rare commodity in today's world. And no matter what they'd thrown at him over the last three years, the kid hadn't lost that and it impressed Simon. Men who'd seen less had become hardened, bitter. But not Blair. He still tried to see the good side of things. Still gave people the benefit of the doubt. Still trusted.

  But those qualities also got him into trouble on a more than one occasion. Yet as much as Simon might grumble about the long-haired consultant, he wouldn't want him to change.

  Now as Simon looked back at the three bodies laid out side by side, his brow creased. He understood why Jarred Lowry had wanted to become the kid. But he still didn't understand how this fit in with the Sentinel stuff. Until either Jim or Blair was ready to tell him, he would remain in the dark.

  #######

  Jim sat at the kitchen table reading the paper and sipping on his first cup of coffee of the day. He could hear the shower going but beyond that, he could hear Blair's suddenly racing heart. His hard breathing. Panic attack. Dammit!

  It had been almost a month since Blair's abduction by Jarred and Rebecca Lowry. In that time, Blair had healed physically. But emotionally, he seemed to be slipping backward. For the last week, Blair had had several nightmares. He had yet to tell Jim about any of them. He simply awoke in the night, gasping in fear, his heart racing. Then he'd lay awake in bed waiting for sleep to reclaim him. Sometimes it was just minutes. Sometimes hours. Jim would lay in his own bed wishing Blair would get up. Then at least Jim could go downstairs out of some pretense and see if he wanted to talk. But the fact that the kid stayed in his room told Jim that he didn't want to talk. Didn't even want Jim to know about the nightmares.

  And Jim had no idea why.

  Hell, he'd had a few of his own since seeing the altar that Rebecca and Jarred Lowry had set up for his partner. He'd dreamed for the first three nights after that that the couple had been successful and Blair had been...replaced. That when Jim finally found him, Jarred Lowry already inhabited his partner's body. He could still see that Blair in his mind. His Guide's lively blue eyes changed to a dull brown. His expression filled with a hostility unlike any Blair would ever be capable of. That Blair had laughed at Jim's revulsion, a deep, angry sound that had followed Jim up from sleep.

  Afterward, Jim had lain awake, listening to his Guide's familiar heart beating below, resisting the urge to go down to his room and wake him, just to be sure. He hadn't actually relaxed again until the next morning when Blair came into the kitchen, rubbing his tired blue eyes.

  Jim shook off the memory of those nightmares. Blair was Blair and he was home...safe. So why is his Guide suddenly having nightmares?

  It's got to be the upcoming trial.

  In less than a week, Rebecca Lowry's trial for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Blair would begin. Jim had hoped that the woman would take the plea bargain offered to her by the D.A. saving his partner from testifying in court. But she'd turned down every offer, insisting she was innocent. That Jarred had forced her to do what she had done.

  Yeah, right.

  Blair had told Jim how Rebecca had laid out the plan. How she had choked him when he first spoke. How she had admitted killing the other three men just because she liked it. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of Blair with her. At least Simon had managed to pull some strings and keep her behind bars while she awaited the court date.

  But Jim had seen Rebecca Lowry when she was first questioned. The woman was good at putting on an innocent face, acting as if she were a victim too. Jim really didn't believe she would get off for what she'd done but the trial did come down to Blair's word against hers and that worried him.

  The bathroom door opened and Blair padded to the kitchen. He had classes this morning but would meet up with Jim later at the station. But as Jim looked at his partner, he couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes. The kid hasn't gotten a decent night's sleep in the last three days. He watched as Blair poured himself a cup of coffee. He could still see a slight trembling in his hands.

  "How's it going this morning, Chief?" he asked as casually as he could manage.

  "Good. I'm running a little behind but what's new?" He slipped his glasses on and grabbing up the sports section of the paper that Jim had set aside for him, sat down at the table.

  Jim debated his next move. He had been hoping that when he asked Blair how it was going, his Guide would suddenly open up and tell him about his nightmares, admit to the panic attack he'd just had in the shower. Instead, he sat there, trying to act as if nothing were wrong, knowing full well that there was no way Jim wasn't already aware of the problem. It had to end. Today. Now. "Blair, what's going on with you?"

  Blair sipped his coffee, shook his head and continued to read. "I don't know what you mean?" But Jim could hear the increase in his heart rate.

  "Sandburg, you've had nightmares almost every night this week and just now, you had a panic attack in the shower. Don't try to deny it because you know it won't work with me."

  Blair shrugged one shoulder, not looking up from his paper. "It's nothing. I can get through it on my own."

  "No you don't, Sandburg." Jim reached across the table and took the paper from his friend. "That's what got us in trouble last time. Talk to me. Is it about the upcoming trial? Are you worried about it?"

  "No, it has nothing to do with that." He kept his gaze locked on the cu
p in his hand.

  "Then what does it have to do with? Come on, Blair, I know something's wrong."

  "If I tell you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "you'll feel bad so let's just drop it."

  Jim's brow creased. Now he had to know. "Why will I feel bad?"

  Blair looked up, his expression miserable. "It's Alex," he finally admitted. "I'm having flashbacks to the day she tried to kill me. I don't know why. I just am."

  "What do you mean by 'flashbacks'?" Jim asked, when no additional information was offered.

  Pulling off his glasses, Blair tossed them on the table. "I'm...re-experiencing how it felt that day...when I almost drowned."

  You did drown, Chief. But Jim didn't say that. Couldn't bring himself to speak those words out loud even now so many months later. "What do you mean exactly?"

  "The dreams are very vivid. It really feels like it did that day. Those last few moments…" He let out a long breath. "Man, can we just not talk about this." Pushing up from the table, he paced to the counter, keeping his back to his partner.

  Jim watched him, unsure what could possibly be making him this uncomfortable. In the last few months, they'd talked about so much, revealed more to each other than ever before. Suddenly, Blair is unable to share something? "I need to hear the rest, Chief. You obviously need to say it."

  "I can deal with this on my own, Jim." Despite the strong words, Blair sounded unsure.

  "Blair, you haven't dealt with it yet. What makes you think that's going to change any time soon?"

  He turned sharply toward Jim. "I'll see a shrink if that'll make you happy," he snapped.

  "It's not a matter of me being happy," Jim said, maintaining his cool despite Blair's growing agitation. "And besides, you know that won't work. You can't tell a shrink about the Sentinel stuff, about Alex, about what was said between us. As far as I can see, you have only two choices here, Chief. You can talk to me or you can talk to Simon."

  Blair rolled his eyes. "Then I have no choices."

  "Blair, you can't go on like this. You're not sleeping and I heard you in the shower. You had a panic attack. So whatever this is, it's eating away at you." Jim waited but Blair only stood, arms crossed, gaze lowered. "This is the first time since Alex came into our lives that we've had an extended period of calm," Jim continued, needing to get through to him. Needing to know what could possibly be bothering him this much. "Maybe your mind is finally catching up with the whole thing and you need to process it. Sort through it. Talk about it."

  Blair took a deep breath, shaking his head slightly and Jim thought he was once again going to tell him to just leave it alone. Instead, he began to speak, his voice low, emotionless. "When Alex came for me that day, I thought she was going to shoot me. I mean, she came into my office, pulled her gun out and even cocked the damn thing right there in front of me. But instead of shooting me, she forced me out to the fountain and made me stand on the edge. Again, I thought she was going to shoot me, maybe in the back or something, and just leave me there. But then she hit me and I fell into the water." He ran a weary hand over his face. "That's where the dream starts every time, when I hit the water." He closed his eyes, shuddering. "It was so cold. I can feel that in the dream, the icy water rushing over me."

  Jim's hands clenched into fists. The muscles of his back tensed. As Blair spoke, he realized that he had never been told the details of that day. Hadn't even read the statement Blair had made after waking in the hospital. He wondered if on some subconscious level, he simply hadn't wanted to know the details. Because he hadn't been there to stop it from happening. Had almost been too late to save his partner's life. "Go on, Chief," he ground out when the silence went on too long.

  "I wasn't completely out," Blair continued in that same flat monotone. "I couldn't help myself. Couldn't move. But I wasn't completely unconscious. I could feel the water all around me, pulling me down, keeping me under. It was so cold that I couldn't believe that somehow it wouldn't revive me in time. But then my lungs, they started filling up with water and I...I couldn't breathe...and I...I..." Shaking hands came up to cover his face.

  Jim stood and crossing to Blair, laid a hand on each of his shoulders, steadying him. "Okay, Chief. Just relax. It's okay."

  He sighed heavily, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'm sorry, Jim."

  "There's no need to apologize." He released him and leaned against the counter, the two men now side by side. He glanced down at the smaller man beside him wishing he could take away his pain. Erase those memories from his mind. "Is this what the dreams are like? A vivid reliving of that moment?"

  Blair nodded stiffly. "I knew I was going to die, Jim. I knew you weren't coming. Not after..." he trailed off, his gaze darting away. But he didn't need to finish the sentence. Jim knew what he was going to say.

  "Not after what I'd said to you in the bullpen, right?" Jim longed to go back in time and take those hurtful words back. He hadn't meant any of them. Had already told Blair that a dozen times. But no matter how many times he apologized or how many times Blair told him it was okay, that he knew Jim didn't mean it, Jim still felt those words between them. Still could see the pain that had been etched on Blair's face that day just before he turned and walked out the door.

  The last look Jim had seen before finding his Guide floating face down in that fountain at Rainier.

  If that had been our last moment together… Blair's last memory of me…

  "I remember wondering who would find my body," Blair continued, drawing Jim away from his regrets. "And if you'd be the one asked to identify it. I wondered if it would even matter to you."

  Jim's brow creased. "You wondered if what would matter to me?"

  Blair looked up, his eyes wide as if just now realizing that he'd said the words out loud. "I don't think it now, Jim. I really don't. But then, at that time..."

  "What?" Jim insisted, his heart pounding in his ears because he already thought he knew what Blair was referring to and was stunned by it.

  "I wondered if you'd be relieved when you found out what happened to me," Blair admitted Sentinel-soft.

  "Relieved that you had died?" Jim stared at his Guide, dumbfounded. Jim had no idea Blair had felt that way. "God, Blair, why would you ever think that?"

  "You'd be rid of me which, at the time, is what I thought you wanted."

  Jim tried to picture his partner drowning in that fountain, helpless to save himself, believing that his best friend, the man he had saved from the brink of insanity, would be happy about it. "Blair, I can't believe that the things I said to you that day in the bullpen would make you think that?"

  "It wasn't just that one fight." He shook his head, uncertainty marring his brow. Jim knew in that moment that his partner was trying to decide if he really wanted to reveal this. Or if it were truly better left unsaid. Jim waited, hoping Blair would continue. Knowing if he didn't that they might never get past whatever it was that still haunted him.

  "The last few weeks," Blair began, the words coming out slowly, "before Alex ever came into the picture, you just seemed...annoyed by me."

  "I never--"

  "When Simon and I busted in on your little trip to Clayton Falls."

  Jim had thought that they'd already gotten through this. That Blair understood why he'd taken that trip. "Blair, I wanted to be alone. It doesn't mean I was annoyed by you. I was just--"

  "Jim, I understood you wanting to be alone," Blair cut in. "Hell, it wasn't even my idea to go up there. It was Simon's."

  "Then what?" he snapped and immediately regretted it as the reluctance in Blair's eyes was quickly replaced by his own anger.

  "You know, Jim, I told you I didn't want to talk about this. That it really didn't matter. You're the one who pushed it and now you're pissed." He shoved away from the counter and snatching up his backpack, headed for the door. "I gotta go. I'm late."

  Jim grabbed his arm, stopping him. "No, Blair, I don't want to leave it like this."

  Blair turned b
ack to face him, the anger that had been there only moments before already gone. "Jim, it's all right. I know you don't feel that way. I know you never did so let's just drop this."

  "I can't," he said, his voice softly imploring. "I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that you would think even for a second that I would be happy if you died."

  "Jim, I had a lot of thoughts in those last few moments."

  "Yeah, but that one…" He shook his head. "It bothers me. I really wish you had told me sooner."

  "Once it was all over, I knew you didn't feel that way so why tell you? Like I said before, I knew it would only hurt you so there was no point in saying it."

  "There is a point, Blair. The point is I made you feel that way and I need to understand how that could happen."

  "It wasn't just you, Jim. It was my own insecurities. My own interpretation of things you did and said."

  "What things?" he prompted, needing to know, to understand.

  Blair stared up at him another moment before dropping his pack and crossing to the living room. He flopped down onto the couch and waited. Jim followed his partner's lead, taking the chair across from him.

  "When we got to Clayton Falls," Blair began again, "you said you wanted to get away from me because I was always in your face observing. I was really stunned by that. I thought I was more than just 'the observer'. I really thought I was your friend. Your partner."

  "You were. You are," Jim insisted. But as he stared at Blair, he knew even now, Blair was still unsure of that. He needed to change that. Needed Blair to understand the real reason for that trip. "Blair, I told you I went to Clayton Falls because I needed to be alone. The truth is, I needed to see what is was like to be alone because after the last three years, I couldn't remember anymore."

  "Why did you suddenly have this need to see what it was like?" Blair asked and Jim could hear the question behind the softly spoken words. Were you getting ready to throw me out?

  Jim stared at his friend, his gut twisting with guilt. After three years, Blair had still worried that Jim would toss him out. Was still wondering now if that had been the case.