Progression Series 15 Buried Fears Page 5

  "Jim," Blair said, pulling him from his thoughts. " I don't think I ever thanked you for being there for my mom when I was...gone. She told me how much you helped her, that you let her stay at the loft. Thank you for doing that."

  Jim shrugged. "It really wasn't that much. We were all just getting through what happened the best we could, you know?"

  Blair nodded then said softly, "Eli told me something too, Jim. He told me you zoned."

  Jim's jaw tightened. Dammit! He hadn't wanted his guide to find out about that. He knew what kind of burden that knowledge would put on the young man's shoulders. "It doesn't really matter, Chief."

  "Doesn't matter?" Blair repeated incredulously. "Are you serious? Jim, if Professor Stoddard is right, then I'm the only one who can bring you out of zones, who can guide you."

  "Does that really surprise you, Sandburg?" he asked softly. "After all we've been through together, all we've seen as guide and sentinel, does it really surprise you?"

  "No," Blair admitted just as softly. "But it does scare me, Jim. I mean, the idea that you need me and that someday I might not be there for you-"

  "You'll always be there, Chief," Jim interrupted, refusing to consider the alternative. "So let's just drop this, all right?"

  Part Five

  Blair blinked slowly, releasing a soft breath of air as he slipped from sleep into wakefulness. The morning sun poured in through the window of his room, bathing the small space with bright warmth. From somewhere very nearby he could hear movement--mostly likely Jim puttering around the kitchen, putting something together for breakfast.

  Yawning loudly, Blair shifted where he lay. But something tugged against his right wrist, inhibiting his movement. Brow creased, he looked down. A padded hospital cuff encircled his wrist, the restraint tethered to a metal rail that had been attached to his bed. His gaze jerked to his left wrist. The same kind of padded restraint captured that wrist as well. He moved his feet, realizing instantly that they, too, had been strapped down. Panic surged through him as he struggled uselessly to free himself.

  This isn't real! This can't be real!

  But as he continued to fight against his bonds, the cuffs biting into his flesh, keeping him trapped, he knew it was real. That he had once again been rendered immobile. Helpless.

  "Jim!" The name burst from him, carrying desperation from deep within his soul.

  Heavy footsteps approached his room. A shadow crossed in front of the French doors, the silhouette clearly that of a man. Blair held his breath. Stilled. Because as he watched the handle slowly turn, he knew with a certainty he didn't understand that it was not Jim who was standing on the other side of his door.

  Terror washed through him as the door was pushed open and Marcus Grant stepped inside his room. Green eyes filled with predatory glee locked on Sandburg. "You're awake," he rasped out happily, stepping closer.

  Blair couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Tremors wracked his body, a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. Not real. None of this is real! But as Grant stepped closer, Blair's heart constricted in his chest.

  "Don't touch me," he blurted out, struggling again, desperate to get away from the man looming over him.

  But Grant paid him no heed, ignored his plea. The doctor reached toward him. "Come with me, David," he whispered as his fingers wound their way into his hair. "Let me protect you..."

  Blair jerked upright in bed, gasping. His gaze swept the room around him. Alone. He looked at his wrists. Free. Relief washed through him. A dream...it had all been a dream.

  Pulling his knees up to his chest, he hugged them tightly. Sweat dampened his body, making the tee-shirt he wore cling uncomfortably to his back. He listened to the sounds of the loft, but only silence reached him. Jim must have already headed off to work. If he were home, he would have been in here by now for sure. Resting his chin on top his knees, he stared at the far wall, the nightmare replaying through his mind.

  "Let me protect you."

  He shivered as he thought about Grant touching him while he was locked away in Crittendon, talking to him about feeling protective toward him while keeping him prisoner.

  "You're going to be here the year after that and the year after that..."

  He swallowed hard as the thought of Grant's plan wound through him again. The man had just planned to keep him for years. Had planned to change who he thought he was and give him a new life as David Jacobs.

  "Come with me, David."

  You're overreacting, he told himself. Reading more into Grant's threats than was really there. But as he shoved his blankets aside and padded toward the shower, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd understood Grant's intent only too well. The realization was coupled with the knowledge that Grant was still very near, just waiting for his moment to take him and mold him into a man named David Jacobs.

  /

  /

  /

  Blair stepped out of the elevator, waved hello to a couple of officers who were passing by, then strode into Major Crime. He looked over at his partner's desk as he crossed the bullpen, a bit surprised to find Jim missing. It wasn't necessarily odd that Jim wasn't at his desk, but it did seem strange that the detective's computer hadn't been booted up and there were no signs that any of the papers and other articles on his desk had been disturbed yet that morning.

  When he'd woken and found Jim gone, he'd assumed his partner had come in early to get a jump start on the case. But now he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else going on. Something Jim had forgotten to mention to him.

  Blair frowned as he made his way to his own desk. He had just placed his backpack on the floor and shrugged out of his light jacket when Simon's booming voice reached his ears.

  "Sandburg! What are you doing here?"

  Blair straightened and turned toward the captain, who had stalked up to his desk and was standing there, arms folded across his chest, glaring down at Sandburg with a scowl on his face.

  "Um, I work here?" Blair reminded him cheekily, immediately regretting the wise remark when the scowl on the captain's face darkened and became more menacing.

  "I meant," Simon said slowly, deliberately, "why aren't you out with your partner investigating that lead I gave you?"

  Blair's brow furrowed in confusion. He scratched at his temple, looked up at Simon. "I'm sorry, Simon. What lead are you talking about?"

  "The lead on Randall!" the captain barked. "I called Jim at the loft this morning and gave him the details. He told me he'd go straight from home rather than come into the station first." Simon leaned forward. "I assumed he meant you would both go!"

  "You called Jim this morning?" Blair repeated softly. Sudden realization of what Jim had done rushed through him. Instead of waking him, taking him along to check out the lead on Tom Brayden's killer, Jim had opted to go alone. No one to watch his back. Putting his own life in danger in order to keep Blair safe.

  Blair gritted his teeth and bit back an angry expletive. He knew he should be somewhat grateful for the intent behind Jim's action, but instead he was furious. He stared off across the bullpen, not really seeing anything, and thought of the dressing down he planned to give his partner--just as soon as he found him.

  "You don't know anything about this, do you?" Simon's question cut into Sandburg's thoughts. "Jim took it upon himself to follow up on this lead alone, didn't he?"

  Blair inhaled a deep breath and rubbed at his forehead, trying to formulate an answer. He might be angry with Jim but he certainly didn't want him getting into trouble with his supervising officer. "Um, Simon...."

  But the captain raised a hand, forestalling any obfuscation on Blair's part. "Save it, Sandburg," he instructed firmly. "Come into my office. I'm going to give you the information regarding Jim's whereabouts. I want you to get out there and back up your partner. Do you think you can do that?"

  So, when did I become the bad guy here? Blair opened his mouth to remind Simon that he hadn't been aware of Jim's actions, that Jim's lack of back
up was of the detective's own making, but a quick glance at the captain's intense expression and Sandburg closed his mouth. When Simon turned toward his office, Blair followed mutely.

  -----

  Sandburg wound the Volvo through the littered streets of Cascade's old tenement district, searching for the address Simon had supplied less than twenty minutes earlier. He read the battered street signs as he drove, studied the decaying buildings and wondered absently how anyone could live in such squalid conditions. Even the old warehouse he'd been renting when he first met Jim was a castle compared to the burned out, graffiti-laced buildings that surrounded him now.

  Finally, seeing the sign that marked the street he was looking for, he turned left. He slowed in front of each building that still had numbers attached to the outside brick or clapboards. He was squinting ahead, trying to read the number on the next building in line, when his gaze settled on Jim's distinctive blue and white truck parked at the curb about a block away. Just the sight of the old Ford brought back the anger he'd been feeling toward Jim at the station, and he felt his heart start to pound faster in his chest as he thought of the confrontation ahead....

  Pulling his glasses from his face, Blair drove the short block and pulled up behind Jim's truck. The detective stood on the wide, litter-strewn sidewalk, conversing with a couple of uniformed officers. Whatever lead Jim had been given that morning, it appeared that it had not panned out.

  Blair pushed the Volvo into park and cut the engine. Annoyance pulsed through him as he exited the vehicle and stalked toward his partner. Jim's back was turned toward him but Blair could see the officers staring at him as he made his determined approach. Within seconds, Jim turned to see what had caught their attention.

  "Chief!" he exclaimed, clearly surprised...and angry. "What are you doing here!"

  "Well, now, I could ask you the same thing, couldn't I?" Blair challenged as he came to a stop in front of his partner. Glancing at the two staring officers, he said, "Could you give us a minute here? Please?"

  The officers nodded mutely and moved to a discretionary distance.

  "What do you think you're doing!" Blair demanded of Jim. "I went to the station and Simon told me you got a lead this morning--a lead you obviously decided to follow on your own."

  "You were still sleeping--"

  Blair held up his hands and shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no, Jim. You are not making this about me!" He closed the gap between them, poked at Jim's chest and said, "You left me at home because you were afraid that bringing me out here with you would put me in danger."

  "That's ridiculous, Sandburg--"

  "I don't think it is, Jim!" Blair stepped back, ran his hands through his hair. He looked up at Jim, who was standing ramrod straight, his jaw clenched, staring at some interesting spot on the building behind Sandburg. "I'm your partner! The guy who watches your back, remember? I know this thing with Grant has you spooked. It has me spooked, too. But if you think you're going to start cutting me out of your cases, your work at the station, you can just think again."

  "Sandburg--"

  "I'm not finished!" Blair stepped up to Ellison again. "I'm your partner, Jim. And as your partner I deserve to be included on your cases, in your field work. Do you understand me?"

  Finally, Jim looked down at him, his eyes cool, the stubborn jaw still clenched. "I was trying to keep you safe," he intoned evenly. "Is that so wrong?"

  "No, it's not wrong. But it's not going to work. You can't exclude me and try to do your job on your own. What about your own safety, Jim? What if you zone? What if this guy we're looking for isn't alone when you find him? What then?"

  Jim looked over Blair's head again, this time at a spot down the street. "Are you finished?" he asked coolly.

  Blair sighed out audibly. "Yes, for now." He glanced up at the buildings surrounding them, tried to bring his anger under control. It was obvious Jim wasn't going to listen to reason. Or if he was listening, he wasn't going to discuss it. Not here. Not now. Blair brought his gaze back to his partner. "If you're finished here I think we need to get back to the station, where you are going to sit down with your partner and map out a strategy for finding this Randall guy. Isn't that what you're going to do, Jim?"

  Jim glanced down at him briefly, the stoic expression never leaving his face. "I'll meet you at the station," was all he said, then the detective turned and made his way toward the waiting officers.

  /

  /

  /

  Simon looked up at the small commotion in the bullpen. Blair Sandburg was striding across the room, Jim Ellison a few steps behind. While Sandburg looked positively irate, Jim's face was set in stone--the cool, imperturbable look that always meant the detective had shut down his emotions and didn't intend to listen to reason, no matter who was giving it or in what form it was being given.

  Blair proceeded to his desk and Jim to his. Both men sat down in their chairs and made no attempt whatsoever to look at or speak to one another. The tension between the two was so tangible it could have been cut with a knife.

  Simon rubbed a hand across his eyes. Standing, he made his way to his partially open office door and leaned out into the bullpen.

  "Ellison! Sandburg! My office. Now!"

  He returned to his desk, sat down, and waited for the silent duo to enter and take seats. Blair propped himself on the end of the conference table while Ellison took a position standing near the windows.

  Simon sighed. "All right, one of you start talking. What happened this morning?"

  The captain looked at his detective but when Jim averted his eyes and stared out the window, Simon had no choice but to turn to Blair. "Sandburg? You want to tell me why your partner decided to go after David Randall on his own?"

  The kid sighed, looked over at Jim, then turned his attention to Simon when the detective remained silent. "Jim is worried...well, we're both worried...about Grant. He's still out there and...well...." His voice trailed off as he shrugged one shoulder.

  "And Jim thinks that the best way to keep you safe is to sequester you in the loft until Grant is caught. In the meantime, he'll chase down Cascade's worst on his own." His gaze shifted to Ellison. "Is that about the size of it, Jim?"

  "If you say so, sir," Jim replied coolly, his gaze never leaving the window.

  Blair slid off the table and moved up to Simon's desk. "I've tried to get him to listen, Simon. To realize that he can't go out on his own." He looked at Jim again. "But it doesn't seem to be having much of an affect."

  Simon sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. So...his best detective--a detective who was prone to zoning--was going to make a point of going out in the field without backup in order to protect his partner from Marcus Grant...and, he suspected, anyone else who might want to hurt him.

  He doesn't want to lose him again. And while Simon could understand those feelings, he couldn't afford to give into them.

  He looked up at Blair again, saw the determination in the set of the jaw and in the deep blue eyes. Quickly, he came to a decision--the only decision he knew would crack the stubborn Ellison's determination to keep Blair off the streets.

  "I have no choice, then," he said softly, apologetically. Pushing to his feet, he moved to stand in front of Jim. He waited until the detective looked at him. "Sandburg is assigned as your partner. If he isn't serving in that capacity then I see no reason to keep him on payroll."

  He saw the jaw clench tighter, though Jim's practiced, non-committal expression gave nothing away. "It's up to you, Detective. Either you get past this or I'll have no choice. I'll pull Blair's credentials and assign you another partner."

  He saw the jump of the jaw muscles, the almost-imperceptible softening of the icy blue eyes, the minuscule slumping of the shoulders. Jim dropped his gaze to the floor, then raised his eyes to Simon. "That won't be necessary, sir," he said softly after several moments. Glancing quickly at Sandburg, Jim straightened and cleared his throat. "Blair and I have some work we nee
d to be doing. Are we dismissed?"

  "You are. Get out of here." Banks looked over at Blair. "Both of you," he growled, trying hard not to smile at the kid's obvious relief. "Out."

  Part Six

  Jim turned off the shower, stepped from the tub and toweled dry. As he shaved, he extended his hearing, easily picking up on Sandburg's deep, even breathing. The kid was still asleep. Jim wasn't surprised. Yesterday had been a long day--long and stressful.

  After the subtle yet thoroughly effective reprimand Jim had received from Simon, he and Sandburg had spent the rest of the afternoon following up leads regarding David Randall--talking to known associates, the man's mother, his former employer--but nothing had panned out. The man who had shot Tom Brayden in cold blood was still out there somewhere, walking the streets, a free man.

  As Jim stepped from the bathroom and headed toward the kitchen, he realized that Blair's heart rate had begun to climb steadily. He frowned and turned toward his guide's bedroom. The sounds of soft murmuring reached him, followed by the noise of Blair tossing and turning. Kid's having a nightmare, he realized.

  Moving to Blair's room, Jim looked around the partially open door. Sandburg lay in his bed, sweat dampening his hair, deep lines marring his forehead. As he watched, Blair shifted slightly, his eyes squeezing shut, his hands fisting where they lay atop the blankets.

  "Chief?" Jim spoke softly, crossing into the room. There was no response. Stopping beside the bed, he reached down and shook his partner's shoulder. "Sandburg--"

  "Don't touch me!" Blair jerked awake and scooted backward on the bed, his eyes wide with fear, his hands raised in front of him in a defensive position.

  "Chief, it's me. It's Jim!"

  Recognition flooded Blair's expression. "Oh, man." He lowered his hands, exhaling a long breath of relief. "Oh, man, Jim." Pulling his knees up, Blair buried his face against his legs.

  Jim sat down on the edge of the mattress. "You okay?" he asked, unable to miss the tremors that rippled through his friend.

  "Yeah," Blair muttered, swallowing hard. "Just a nightmare. No big deal."