Disclaimer: I don't own them, just borrowed them for the weekend. They belong to their creators. No money is being made, even though I really need some.
Warnings: Not beta'd, as there wasn't enough time. Some language....strange stuff too. I think Halloween, not to mention that huge harvest moon, just had my muse in a weird mood.
This story is dedicated to all of those who accept my weirdness and love me anyway. (grin!) Monkee, Star, and Nanneroo. Oh, and to the little one that I long to adopt. I pray he doesn't turn out like me. :oP
By: Denise James
It's a very thin line that separates the good from the evil, dreams from reality, life and death, and the sane from insanity. Unfortunately, there are those who dare to cross it....DMJ
This is a story of lines being crossed.
The Dream Weaver
By: Denise James
The jungle was hot and his shirt clung to sweaty skin. Blair was lost and his sentinel was no where to be found. Slowly making his way through the lush growth, Blair thought he heard something approaching from behind. Turning cautiously, he found himself face to face with a huge grizzly. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound was produced. Turning, he ran as fast as his feet would carry him, his heart pounding, threatening to explode. Suddenly he found himself in a flowering meadow. One that he couldn't remember having seen before.
"Jim?" he called, praying that his friend would answer. Jim would know what to do. The older man always had a plan. "Jim, please....where are you?"
A grunt to his left caught his attention. Blair stumbled back when he saw a Mountain Lion devouring what appeared to be a black Jaguar. "No!" Blair screamed, as the bloody remains of the Jaguar morphed into Jim. "Nooooooo!!!!" Again the younger man began to run, finding himself back in the jungle, vines and limbs lashing out to slow his escape.
Looking over his shoulder, he was just in time to see the Mountain Lion spring into the air, and the grizzly laughing.
Blair awoke, frantically pushing at the non-existent Lion, and panting from the events of the now dissolving dream. "Oh God....not again. Why do I keep having this damn dream?" He ran a trembling hand through his hair as he tried to gain control over his breathing. Getting up slowly and as quietly as possible, Blair made his way into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He prayed it would help get the image of his dead sentinel out of his mind.
4 days later.
In the darkness of the loft, James Ellison, sentinel and protector of the great city of Cascade Washington, could hear the frustrated sounds of his guide downstairs. From the small room below him, that once acted as a guest bedroom, but soon turned into the permanent residence of Blair Sandburg, Jim could hear the occasional punch to a pillow, squeak of the futon as the young man shifted, and the barely whispered curses at his inability to sleep.
The curly haired bundle of energy had many roles in this life. A student studying anthropology, teaching assistant by day, police observer by necessity, and Jim's guide by design. What had started out as a strange quirk of fate, and Blair's sudden homeless state, when his warehouse was blown up during a gang war, had turned into the best friendship anyone could ever ask for.
Suddenly frustrated himself, Jim rolled over and looked at the clock for the tenth time in the last hour. It was almost five, and his guide was still awake. With his heightened senses, it wasn't unusual for the sentinel to tune into his guide at night. It gave the older man a sense of peace and the ability to relax, listening to his partners vitals as sleep came. But this night, as for the last four nights, sleep didn't come. There was something bothering the young man enough that it was depriving him, and his sentinel, of much needed sleep. With everything that Blair had on his plate, there was no telling what could be upsetting his buddy, but it was time for one of Cascades finest to find out.
Knowing that sleep was again being evasive, Blair slung aching legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the bathroom. At least I can get an early start by getting to the shower first. He thought to himself. Shutting the door as quietly as possible, Blair started the shower to allow the water to warm. While he waited, he stripped down and prepared himself for a quick shave. He never noticed his haggard appearance in the mirror, as it was becoming common place. Finally through with the ritual of shaving and brushing his teeth, the young man stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to sooth his tense, sleep deprived body. He lathered up and rinsed, then washed his hair, hoping to have enough hot water to just relax for a moment longer afterwards. Closing his eyes, feeling the curtain of exhaustion slowly closing in around him, Blair allowed his mind to drift. He was to the point that he really didn't care if he fell asleep in the shower, just as long as he slept. Almost to the point of no return, images suddenly invaded his mind. A mountain lion with a bloody muzzle and a laughing grizzly. Blair jerked awake in a state of full alert. "Shit. This has got to stop!" he complained, turning off the water and stepping out of the shower. "This has got to stop."
Since Blair was already in the shower, Jim decided to start breakfast. The loft was soon filled with the aroma of bacon and eggs and the sound of toast popping up from the toaster. Jim was busy buttering toast when Blair came out of the bathroom, vigorously toweling his wet hair.
"Hope you're hungry chief. I made enough for an army this morning," Jim teased, setting a stack of toast on the table.
"Yeah, I am a little hungry. Thanks."
Jim knew this to be true, he had heard Blair's stomach rumbling since the early hours of morning. It worried the older man that Blair hadn't been eating well lately. The lack of appetite was another sure sign that something was troubling his young guide. "Why don't you pour the coffee and juice while I finish up the eggs."
"No problem," Blair said, tossing his towel on the back of his chair and entering the work area, not noticing the concerned glances coming from Jim's direction.
For the first time that morning Jim actually got a good look at the young man's face and what he saw there scared him. Dark circles made their way around the dull blue eyes that normally sparkled and set off the youthful face of his guide. His hair lacked its normal shine and his face was pale from the lack of sleep and a proper diet. And unless Jim was just completely off, he thought that the young man had lost a few pounds during the last few weeks.
"My God chief!"
Blair jumped at the sudden outburst. "Huh?" He spun around to face Jim and whatever had upset the older man. Seeing nothing, he turned confused blue eyes to the older man. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" the older man echoed. "Did you look at yourself this morning? I know it's almost Halloween and all, but isn't it just a bit too early to be wearing your 'Night of the Living Dead' costume?" Jim tried to tease, hoping to cover up the worry welling up inside.
"Ha ha. Very funny Jim. I see you've been practicing again," Blair replied grumpily. He turned back to the fridge to retrieve the juice, suddenly jumping at the feel of two strong hands gripping his shoulders.
Jim slowly turned the young man around and looked deep into Blair's eyes. "Are you okay? Feelin' alright? Not coming down with anything are you?" he finished by checking Blair's forehead for a fever.
Blair's head bobbed in time with answers to the questions...yes, yes, then no. "I'm fine man, really. Just having trouble sleeping that's all." Blair closed his eyes against the sudden visions of a Mountain Lion and Grizzly chasing him through the jungles of Peru. It was so crazy, he knew he would never be able to tell Jim, least the man started to believe he had completely fell off his rocker.
"Darwin, anyone who looks at you and sees those racoon rings around your eyes, will know that you're not sleeping. Is there something going on at work? Something bothering you? We can work it out buddy, just talk to me."
Again Blair's head was in motion....no...no...then a shoulder shrug. "I'm not sure what's going on man. I've tried running myself down during the day, hoping I'll just pass out at night. But just at the moment I feel really nice and relaxed, and I'm sure that I'm about to nod off..." He looked at the older man, slightly squinting, "...You know when you get that nice soft, fuzzy, floaty feeling, like you're disconnecting?"
Jim nodded.
"Well, I get to that point and then BAM! It's like I get a sudden burst of energy or something and I'm suddenly wired." Blair placed the glasses filled with juice on the table, never missing a beat with the conversation. "I can't figure out what's going on with me." Except for the fact that it must have something to do with the stupid dreams that I have when I do catch a catnap. Walking back to the island Blair turned serious eyes to his friend. "Jim, if I don't get some real sleep soon, I think I'm going to lose it." If I haven't already.
"Have you tried taking anything? Like a sleep aid or something?"
Blair turned his best "get real" look to Ellison. Blair never used anything over the counter, only natural remedies were chosen.
"Okay...so that's out, have you used your teas? I know you have a blend for about everything."
"I drank almost a whole pot of chamomile last night. I was loose as a goose until I went to bed. Then it was like I had a whole pot of coffee, with an extra dose of caffeine."
"Well, you've got to do something, maybe see a specialist or something."
Suddenly angry that Jim was being so demanding, "Excuse me? I'm the one losing sleep here man!" Blair quickly backed down as he got in Ellison's face and noticed the dark smudges beneath slightly sluggish eyes. Realization hit the younger man hard and caused him to slowly back away. "Oh Jim....Oh my God...why didn't you say anything? I didn't know man! I'm so sorry."
"It's alright chief. Come on, breakfast is getting cold." Jim steered the young man to the table and into his seat, then took his own across from Blair. Making an odd little gesture with his hand, Jim said thanks when Blair absently handed the older man the peanut butter. After spreading a generous amount on his toast, Jim took a bite and tried to explain. "I'm not sure how to explain this, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way or anything...but well...I tune into you at night."
Blair's eyes widened. "You *tune* into me at night? Really???" Then narrowing his eyes he asked. "Why?" Suddenly wondering what he did in his sleep that was so entertaining.
"It's not something I do to be nosy chief. It's kinda ...ummm...how can I explain this...umm..."Jim continued to struggle with his reasoning as Blair perked up.
"It's a means to ground or center you."
Jim looked up in utter astonishment. "That's it! It's your heartbeat. It relaxes me when you're sleeping. It's like I know that your safe and I can go to sleep."
"Man..." Blair shook his head in disbelief, his face slightly coloring from the confession. "...that is like so cool." Then his face became serious. "So, the bottom line is, if I don't sleep, and my heart rate doesn't drop, then you can't relax enough to fall asleep."
Jim punched his egg laden fork in the air. "You've got it."
Blair picked at his eggs, his mind churning through the data just given him. Jim's right, I do need to do something. It was okay when I thought that it was just me who was suffering...but now I know that Jim's suffering too. He can't afford to lose sleep...I don't know how that could effect his senses...Damn...what kind of guide am I when I don't notice this kind of thing.
"I'm really sorry Jim." He apologized again and was about to inquire about the effect on Jim's senses when he received a wave of a dismissive hand for his effort.
"Chief, you didn't know, so just drop it."
"But Jim, I'm your guide. I should be able to see problems before they arise. I should be able to head them off...and I completely missed this one. Something like this could get you hurt...or even killed," he finished softly, staring at his plate, not seeing the now cold eggs he pushed around.
"You're human chief," Jim stated gently, unable to accept the guilt that his guide was trying to bear.
Blair looked up, surprised to hear those two words. "Huh?"
"You're human Blair. You can't do everything. All you can do is your best."
"And if my best isn't good enough?"
"Well...you still gave it everything you had, and no matter what, *no one* can fault you for that."
"No one but me." He added sentinel soft.
Jim shook his head then gestured to the kid's plate. "Eat...it's getting cold."
It was still quiet as Blair made his way through the halls of Rainier University. Yawning, he stopped briefly at the bulletin board located a few doors down from his office, in hopes of finding a little something to make some extra money. After all, Christmas was just around the corner and in his current financial state, pickings would be pretty slim. Frowning when he didn't see any requests for tutors posted, Blair was about to walk away when something did catch his eyes. Thinking he had seen the poster wrong, he turned for a better look. But there it was...in bold letters:
Studies in sleep disorders looking for a few good men and women. For more information contact Professor Daniel Wheaton in the west wing of the science building. Ext. 4113.
Blair couldn't believe his luck. Although he was sure he didn't have a disorder, it wouldn't hurt to talk to the professor and maybe get some advice.
Blair made his way nervously, through the science building, looking for room 113. The fourth floor was set aside for research while the first and second floors held classes, and the third offices. Finding the door appropriately marked, "Sleep Disorders" Blair knocked and slowly entered. The room was spacious as most of the labs were. Equipment to monitor vitals was set up in one corner, while cubicles housing cots, were scattered around the room.
"May I help you?" A stern voice asked from behind, causing Blair to jump slightly before turning to face it's owner.
"I'm Blair Sandburg. I saw your poster?"
"Ah yes. Interested in becoming a lab rat?" The older man's eyes crinkled in a smile.
"Well, actually... I'm interested in asking a few questions."
"I'm very busy, but I can spare a few minutes."
"Thank you...thank you so much....um...you see..." Blair suddenly realized that he didn't know to whom he was speaking.
"I'm sorry. Dr. Wheaton....Daniel Wheaton." The gray haired man held out his hand in a friendly offering.
Shaking the hand Blair smiled. "Dr. Wheaton, I've been having problems sleeping this week. Normally I wouldn't be concerned, because I usually know that something's going on. Like finals or something at work. But this time I'm at a loss. I don't know why I'm losing sleep."
"Why don't you come over here and let me take a look at you." Wheaton led the way to an examination table and gestured for Blair to make himself comfortable.
"So who's the research for?"
"Roche Pharmaceuticals. We're trying to come up with a new non addictive sleep aid. What we are looking for is the chemical that prevents sleep...hopefully, we'll be able to develop a drug that will block the manufacturing of said chemical, and allow a good nights sleep to those who would otherwise suffer insomnia."
"Sounds interesting."
"Yes it is." The doctor agreed stepping behind Blair to listen to the young man's heart and check lymph glands. The old man closed his eyes, smiled and then nodded as if answering an unspoken question. "So tell me Mr. Sandburg. How long has it been since you last slept?" The older man was already writing the answer before Blair spoke it.
"About five nights. I've really got to do something ‘cause I'm keeping my room mate awake." The young man answered lost in his thoughts. He yawned without realizing it.
The doctor nodded knowingly. "Let's do a few tests shall we? I think I should be able to help you."
"Thanks doc. That would be great."
Minutes later, Blair was laying on one of the cots while electrodes where placed in different locations on his head. He suddenly felt sorry for the tests that he put Jim through, now realizing the helpless feeling he had at having someone else in control.
Restraints were slipped over Blair's wrists before he was aware of what was happening. "What's going on!" His eyes were wild with fear as visions of David Lash filled his mind.
"Just calm down Mr. Sandburg. These are just used as a precaution. We have insurance in the event of accidental injury, but we still have to use restraints just in case. Just take a few deep breaths and calm down, your heart rate must come down for our work to be effective."
Blair nodded and tried to do as instructed. He found the man's voice so calm and reassuring, that he couldn't help but listen and obey.
A pin prick was the next thing to catch his attention. "What's that?" He tried not to sound overly panicked, but the crack in his voice gave him away.
"I need a blood sample to measure your endorphin level." The doctor lied. He was actually injecting a golden substance into Blair's arm.
"Oh." Blair stated sluggishly as the serum took hold.
Finishing attaching the restraints to Blair's feet and around the young man's waist, the Professor made his way back to the head of the table and looked down into glassy, unfocused eyes. "What is your full name young man?"
Blair hesitated for a moment then answered. "Christopher Blair Sandburg."
"What is your occupation?"
"Teaching fellow with Rainier University and Observer with the Cascade PD."
The Doctor cringed just a bit. That's all I need is the interest of the police department.
"What month were you born?"
"May."
Wheaton smiled. The young man was doing well. Just a few more simple questions to get him used to answering, and then he could begin on the questions that held the utmost importance. "What is your mother's name?"
"Naomi Sandburg." Blair answered in a monotone voice.
"And your father's?" When there was no answer forth coming, the Doctor looked up and repeated the question. "What is your father's name?"
Blair hesitated again. "I don't know." It's seemed to pain the young man that he was unable to give an answer and tears began to fill his eyes.
"Shh...it's alright." The professor consoled, "You've answered truthfully so there is nothing to be upset about." Deciding that the time was right, he began to ask the real questions. "Are you a guide." Knowing the answer would be yes, the doctor waited anyway for Blair to answer.
"Yes." He relied softly.
"Who is your sentinel?" This was the only question that the older man didn't definitely know the answer to. He had a suspicion who it was, but needed the young man's answer for confirmation.
Blair hesitated a moment, something telling him that something was wrong, but the drug in his system was persuasive and he couldn't fight the urge to answer truthfully. "Detective James Ellison."
He smiled. You were right Richard. "Where is he now?"
Blair sighed sleepily. "Work."
"What is his phone number?"
"555-9191."
"You've done very well Blair, it's time for you to rest now."
Jim was coming out of Simon's office, holding a cup of Columbia's finest, when he phone began to ring. Hurrying to his desk he picked up the receiver. "Ellison."
"Detective Ellison? This is Professor Wheaton at the University..."
Jim's gut tightened and his coffee was forgotten. "What's happened to Blair."
The professor smiled knowing the connection between guide and sentinel. "He's alright now, but still a bit shaken up. He refuses to let me take him to the hospital, but insisted that I call you."
"Where is he?" Jim demanded.
"Room 113. Fourth floor of the science building, west wing."
"I'll be there in ten." Jim stated, hanging up the phone and rushing out of the bullpen.
The professor hung up the phone, thankful that the sentinel hadn't asked to speak to his guide.
Jim blew into the room without knocking. He had been tuned into Blair's heartbeat since he had entered the building. "Where is he?" He asked once he saw the Professor.
"Over here." the older man indicated to the curtained off cubical.
Jim pushed past the Doctor to get to his friends side. His eyes did a quick scan of the peaceful face lost in sleep. He lowered his gaze to the sheet that covered Blair, noting the outline of restraints underneath. He was about to question the doctor when he felt something pierce the skin of his neck. He spun around just in time to see the doctor stepping away, placing a syringe in the trash receptacle.
"Wha?...." Colors began to intensify as did sound, the serum causing his senses to spiral out of control. Jim fell to the floor, his hands over his ears trying to block out the onslaught of sound. His vision began to fade and finally black out as he lost consciousness.
Blair regained consciousness slowly. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, both were side effects of the drug. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, instantly shutting them again to avoid the brightness of the overhead light.
"I see you've decided to rejoin us. I hope you slept well." Dr. Wheaton laughed.
"Us?" Blair croaked weakly.
"Yes. I have your partner with us now."
"Jim?" Blair asked in confusion. He strained to look around the room, ignoring the increasing pain in his head. To his left he could see Jim, strapped to a table much like himself, and still unconscious. "What do you want from us?" Blair's panicked eyes were now trained on the doctor, who was propped against a cabinet, arms crossed, and smiling smugly.
"I want you to die," He answered calmly.
"What?"
"You heard me. I want you to die." The doctor pushed off the cabinet and advance to Blair. "You see, I need your bodies. Therefore, I need to get rid of your spirits....thus death."
"You're insane Wheaton."
"No...not insane. Just lonely." The doctor turned his back to Blair.
Blair turned astonished. "How does killing us cure your loneliness?"
"You have never lost your sentinel...in fact, Jim is your first. So there is no way you can know the emptiness left behind when you're left alone to carry on."
Blair pulled on his straps experimentally while the doctor spoke. "That doesn't answer my question. How do we fit in to this?"
Wheaton turned to face Blair. "My sentinel's spirit still lives. If he can defeat your sentinel's spirit, then it's possible that he can take over Jim's body. Thus I have my sentinel back."
"And where do I fit in?"
"Look at me, I'm 67 years old. Would it be fair to bring my sentinel back, only to lose his guide later to natural causes? No...It wouldn't. Therefore, I'll take on your spirit guide. Together, Richard and I will have a long, and happy life in our new bodies." He took in the shocked look on Blair's face. "Not to worry. I'll spare you the pain that I've gone through over the past few months. I'll allow you a quick and painless death, so that you and your sentinel can be together in the afterlife."
"You're insane Wheaton!" Blair cried out, struggling against his restraints.
"We'll see." Wheaton stated as he went to hook up the monitors to Jim. "First Jim will face Richard on the other side. Then when Richard comes back to me, it will be my turn. He knows the equipment and will be able to pull me out in the event something should go wrong."
Blair's mind scrambled. He knew he had to slow Wheaton down to give Jim a chance to come around. Do what you do best Sandburg...talk!
"How did you find out about us?" Blair asked, pulling and feeling the restraints give just a bit.
"You died," the doctor stated the answer simply.
"But, how did...."
"Your soul touched the other side briefly and my sentinel felt your presence. In that brief moment, Richard knew that we could again be together. Especially when he witnessed your spirit guide joining with that of your sentinel's."
"You can communicate with your dead partner?" Curiosity caused Blair to forget, albeit briefly, his current state of danger.
"Of course. Don't you meditate?"
"Yes."
"Haven't you ever escaped to another plane of consciousness to fine yourself in the land of the spirits?"
Blair was suddenly grateful that Jim was still out of it. He knew there would have been a long explanation about this later, had Jim been privy to this line of questioning. "Yes. I am a Shaman. There are times when I must speak to the elders to find guidance."
"This too may be used to communicate with your sentinel after death. You are never truly free, once you have bonded to one another. Without a guide, the sentinel dies....and with out the sentinel, the guide goes insane, that is, if he is unable to communicate with him on the other side."
Blair nodded. There was so much he was unsure of and still learning. How much of what this man was saying could he take as truth and how much was just the ranting of a demented lunatic.
"But what made you think I would come here for help? I mean, this is a pretty elaborate set up for something so iffy."
"We controlled your sleep patterns. By the way Mr. Sandburg, did you enjoy your dreams?"
Blair's eyes widened. "Excuse me? There's no way you could..."
"Quite the contrary. My elders called me Seshwa, which roughly translates to The Dream Weaver. I learned early on how to control dreams. It's not that hard. Then, when the dreams were no longer effective in keeping you awake, Richard and I sent a surge of energy through the link. Thus, your hyperactive nights." The older man laughed. "That took a little more out of me though, but Richard seemed to enjoy it."
Wheaton shuffled away from Blair to Jim's bed and began preparing a syringe.
Watching helplessly as the doctor gave Jim another injection, Blair tugged at the restraints, not caring if the doctor noticed now. "What are you giving him!!!" Blair demanded, becoming violent.
"Just a little something to assist him to the spirit world."
Blair panicked as he heard the machine signal that Jim's heart rate was beginning to drop. "No!!!! Jim!!! You've got to fight it!"
The beeping continued to slow and Blair fought against his restraints unsuccessfully. The doctor looked at the thrashing young man with a glare of warning. "Am I going to have to sedate you? After all, I don't want my new body injured." He laughed like a madman.
"Fuck you!" Blair screamed. Okay...this isn't doing Jim any good. Calm down...breathe....Wait....Wheaton said I could talk to Jim on the other side. Smiling, Blair closed his eyes and began to slow his breathing, drawing himself into a meditative state.
The doctor was busy monitoring the equipment when he noticed the sudden silence of the room. Looking up, he found the young guide lying completely still on the cot. His eyes closed and the previously agitated face now peaceful. Realization hit the older man like an anvil. "Oh no you don't!!!!" He screamed. "You'll screw up everything." The older man ran over to Blair, quickly filling a syringe. He thrust the long needle deep into Blair's arm and emptied the barrels contents. Blair convulsed a few times before going limp. Little did Wheaton know, that he just aided Blair to his destination.
When Blair's eyes opened, he found himself, not in the jungle as he had expected, but in a endless plain of fog and mist. A sound to the right caught his attention. Turning, he was shocked to find a black Jaguar and a Mountain Lion fighting. Blair looked on is horror as the two cats battled for dominance, the winner laying claim to Jim's human form. The guide winced as the Mountain Lion went for Jim's neck, only to miss by a scant inch as the Jaguar rolled out of the way, cleanly avoiding the Mountain Lion's line of attack.
Blair was about to breathe a sigh of relief when something barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. When the young man gathered his wits and regained his footing, he was surprised to see Professor Wheaton standing before him.
"I should have known that you would try and interfere due to your lack of patience ." Wheaton complained. "Now because of your meddling, we are all at risk of not being able to return."
"I would rather die than let you have my body...or Jim's for that matter." Blair stated defiantly.
Just as he thought that the professor might come back with a remark, Wheaton began to morph into his spirit guide, a Grizzly.
"Oh shit...this is *not* good." Blair mumbled. Closing his eyes, he called upon his spirit guide to help him in his battle. He was soon awarded with an answer as he too morphed. The silver and black Wolf dropped his head in a deadly gaze and with bared teeth, began to growl. The Wolf began circling the Grizzly, thankful he was so much smaller. You may be bigger and stronger, but I'm quick and low to the ground. Speed will be my advantage over you. Blair thought as he continued to look for a window of opportunity.
The Grizzly lashed out with one long strong paw and swept an unsuspecting Wolf up into, what could have been, a crushing hug. Taking a moment to check on his sentinel, the Grizzly took his attention away from the howling Wolf in his grip. He smiled inwardly noting that the Mountain Lion now had the Jaguar pinned and was once again making an attempt at the black cats neck.
Blair was caught off guard by the swiftness of the bear's move. One moment he was looking for a weakness, and the next he was having the life squeezed from him. Howling in pain, Blair continued to struggle against the vice like grip the bear possessed. All rational thought left him, as his primal sense of survival kicked in. Reaching down, extending his neck as far as possible, The Wolf was able to take a large chunk out of Wheaton's right arm. The Grizzly roared with pain and anger, momentarily loosening his grip, allowing Blair to slip free. Ready to take advantage of the bear's pain, Blair lunged for the Grizzly's neck. One bite and this battle would be won.
The Wolf was already in the air when Wheaton noticed him, but with fast reflexes, the bear was able to simply bat Blair away. The Wolf hit the hard ground with a yelp, feeling his shoulder dislocate momentarily then slip back into place, leaving stretched tendons and ligaments as a reminder of his injury. Limping and favoring his right paw, Blair didn't back down from his opponent. Instead he lunged again, this time fueled with fury that another would dare attempt something like taking his sentinel from him. No, Blair was going to prove that he was a force to be reckoned with. Again he was taking flight, his target just a few feet in front of him. This time he hit the mark and bit down with all of his might, almost relishing the feel and taste of warm blood flowing from the wound.
The Grizzly roared in agony as the Wolf took possession of his neck, burying teeth as deeply as possible. The bear retaliated by digging into the Wolf's back with long sharp claws, but the Wolf was persistent in his pursuit of victory, only growling his pain and shaking his head to tear at the bloody flesh within his death grip, even as the claws moved downward, slicing the Wolf's back open with ease.
Wheaton repositioned his paws to Blair's ribs and began the same task of sink and shred, trying not to notice the black fog invading his vision.
Blair's new found agony was almost enough to cause him to let go. Part of him wanted to get away, find a quiet spot and quietly lick his wounds and heal. While the other wanted to kill, wanted to feel the joys of victory and taste the fruits of his revenge. Just as the Wolf thought that a bite lower on the neck might be a good tactical move, Wheaton fell backwards hitting the ground hard and shaking Blair loose. Standing up, the injured Wolf shook his head, trying to shake off the sluggishness he felt from exhaustion and blood loss. His limp now more noticeable with the addition of his other injuries, Blair moved cautiously around the downed bear, ever ready and on his best defense should the bear strike out again, but the bear didn't move. Instead he lay there slowly soaking in his own blood with unseeing eyes staring straight ahead. His ragged breathing turned to low grunts as he fought to hang onto the last remnants of life, and soon they slowed, then ended as the bear lost his battle and slipped into the open arms of death.
Blair let out a low howl of victory before collapsing, his body shaking with fatigue. He turned his attention to the battle that had been taking place between the two sentinels only to find both large cats on the ground, laying motionless. No!!! The wolf howled.
The Jaguar could hear the fight going on between the guides and was angered, feeling that Blair was outmatched by the larger and stronger Grizzly, but he had his own battle to contend with and gave everything he had to assure that he won. Unfortunately, the Mountain Lion was doing the same. Each cat lunged at the other and there were moments, during this dance of death, of rolling and trying to prove dominance. Finally tired of getting no where, Jim decided to move in for the kill. Finding the perfect moment when the Mountain Lion's neck was unprotected, Jim moved in, taking hold of the soft flesh. The Mountain Lion let out a pain filled roar, before sinking his teeth into Jim's neck just above the shoulder. Both cats collapsed as neither would let go. Panting through the pain, Jim adjusted his dials so that he could focus on his prey. Within minutes, the Mountain Lion's grip loosened as he met his guide for eternity. Jim, weakened by the fight, couldn't find the strength to move, so he laid there, waiting for whatever the future held. Little did he know it would be seeing the deathly pale face of his guide.
It took the last remaining bit of strength Blair had to make his way, crawling, to his sentinels side.
Sniffing the Jaguar and listening closely, the Wolf could tell that his friend was still alive. To tired to do much more, Blair licked the muzzle of the cat and took his place at Jim's side. He felt himself begin to morph back into his human form, but was too exhausted to care. The only thing that mattered, was that the sentinel and guide had come out triumphant and would live to see another day. That was the last thought the young man had as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Room 113 was buzzing with activity. Police were questioning the students who stopped by to see what all the fuss was about, while paramedics worked to revive the two unconscious men.
Simon Banks entered the room, worry being held in check due only to the fact that he was the Captain of the Cascade Major Crimes Unit, and had to show a bit of restraint. The Captain spotted the young officer who had called him just minutes before. Waving the officer over, Simon began his questioning, his eyes never leaving the happenings on the other side of the room. From his position, he had a clear view of Jim and Blair and the figure already covered and about to be wheeled from the room. "What happened here Sanders?"
"Well sir, we got a call from Miss Logan over there..." he gestured to a young woman with waist length brown hair and an angelic face filled with sorrow. "She said she was going to talk to Professor Wheaton about joining his research group, and when she came in this is what she found. I'm thankful that she was at least able to keep her cool long enough to call 911."
Simon nodded and gestured for Sanders to continue.
"I was first on the scene and verified that ambulances were in route. When I recognized Detective Ellison, I thought I should inform you of the situation. After calling you I checked on the Professor and found that he was dead. The coroner is guessing a heart attack but won't know for sure until an autopsy is done."
"Thanks Greg. Why don't you help question the students and I'll check on Ellison and Sandburg."
"Yes sir." The young officer made his way to the group of students gathered around the door and in the hall to begin his questioning while Simon made his way to Ellison's side, careful to stay out of the EMT's way.
Simon watched helplessly as the EMT's worked on his best team. While one team performed CPR on Jim, another team was busy setting up complicated looking equipment around Blair.
A member of team 1 called out, "I've got a pulse!" while continuing to provide Jim with oxygen and start an IV.
Simon turned his attention to Blair.
Team 2 continued to work frantically on the smaller of the two men. "He's going into v-fib again," one of the team reported.
"Resuming CPR."
Removing Blair's shirt Johanson, the lead EMT, noticed the puncture wound in Blair's left arm. "He's been injected with something." His comment was directed to Simon. "Look around and see if you can find out what it is."
Simon nodded numbly and began looking around for anything strange. His dark brown eyes scanned the area thoroughly, finally landing on a discarded syringe on a make shift table. Picking it up with a tissue, he handed the object to Johanson. "Could this be it?" His voice cracked with concern, suddenly noticing how small and pale Blair looked.
The EMT dismantled the syringe and took a whiff. "Smells like potassium bromide." He quickly called out the name of a few drugs, which were then administered with swift accuracy to the lifeless body.
Things seemed to slow for Simon as he watched the flurry of activity in front of him. He heard the constant chatter, but could no longer distinguish the voices.
"Charge to 300." With paddles in hand, Johanson waited for the numbers to rise. Once 300 was displayed, he began the task of bringing the young man back. "Clear!" Everyone backed away momentarily as the paddles came down sending Blair flopping on the table like a rag doll. His head rolled to the side as his body stilled, causing the other medic to have to reposition him in order to bag him. "Still nothing. Starting CPR."
"Time?"
"1 minute."
"Sodium Bicarb and Epi in."
All eyes were on the monitor that still showed a flatline.
"Again at 300." Again the paddles were charged, and again Blair's body convulsed with the current.
"Got him!"
The monitor fluxed for a moment before returning to its previous state.
"Nope, he's still in v-fib."
"Atropine in."
"Still nothing."
"Ladocaine push!"
"Up it to 350." Then the lead man mumbled, "One more time. Come on kid. Don't give up on me."
Simon breathed a silent amen, so intent on the scene with Blair, he didn't notice that Jim had been wheeled from the room.
"Clear!" The paddles came down for the third time, which seemed to be the charm. The heart monitor skipped to life, sporadic at first, but then gaining a weak but somewhat steady rhythm. "We've got him!"
"O2 standing by."
"One Milligram Epi in."
Simon sighed with relief as the men shifted Blair onto the gurney, careful not to dislodge the equipment or the IV's. "Thank you," he whispered in prayer.
Johanson turned to Simon. "We'll be transporting him to Cascade General. You may ride with him if you like."
Simon was about to answer in the negative when Rafe put a hand on his shoulder. The handsome man spoke softly to his nervous Captain. "Go with them. I'll bring your car to the hospital when we finish here."
Banks smiled at the young detective and handed him the keys to his car. "Thanks Rafe. I appreciate it."
"Go." Rafe urged softly.
Simon nodded, then quickly followed the exiting gurney.
Simon sat in the small semi private room listening to the monitors and the soft whoosh of O2 being administered to his best detective team. The doctor had assured Banks that Jim and Blair would be alright. All of the tests had ruled out brain damage and the most encouraging sign had been that both men had been regaining consciousness off and on, for brief moments.
Simon was now longing for one of those moments. Jim had been coming around a little more regularly than Blair, but then the younger man had, had a harder time of it.
A moan from the larger man's bed pulled Simon out of his thoughts. Quickly getting up, the captain made his way to his best detectives side. "Jim?"
Jim mumbled something that Simon couldn't understand.
"Montin lion."
"Mountain Lion?" Simon questioned, shaking his head and smiling. "Those must be some pretty good drugs they've got you on."
Suddenly Jim jumped and shouted, "Sandburg!"
"Jim...calm down, the kid is alright. He's right over here."
Jim turned his head to see the pale face of his guide. "Is he alright?"
"Yeah, he's just sleeping."
"You promise? He's too still."
"I promise."
"Good. I wasn't sure he could beat that grizzly." Jim slipped back into sleep leaving a bewildered Simon to wonder just what the Hell had actually happened.
Blair watched incredulously as Jim actually ate the lunch provided by the hospital. Then looking back at his tray, he pushed around the peas one more time then snorted with disgust. "Man, I can't believe you are actually consuming this....this stuff." Pushing the tray away, he turned his attention back to Jim.
"I know how to play the game that's all." Jim commented around a mouth full of food.
"The game?" Blair asked, eyebrows raised.
"Sure chief. You know, the faster you're up, getting around, and eating, the sooner you get to go home."
"Well, know this Jim. If I eat this, then I'll be in for a longer stay. I'm so not into torture." Blair pushed himself up on one elbow to better see his partner. "Hey, you think Simon would sneak me in a tofu and veggie sandwich from Grindler's?"
Blair's expression was just too hopeful to try and trash. "It won't hurt to ask." Then looking at Blair's discarded tray, "So cheif. Are you going to eat your corn?"
Sandburg's eyes widened in terror. "Man, what *is* your stomach lined with?" Pushing the tray over to Jim, "here man, knock yourself out."
Ellison nodded his thanks before digging in. "This stuff isn't really that bad Sandburg."
Astonished, he just had to ask. "Compared to what?"
"The rations I used to get."
"Oh, yeah. I guess this would be an improvement compared to shit on a shingle."
Jim shrugged before diving into the potatoes.
"Jim? You awake man?" Blair asked, before turning on the light above his bed. After receiving only a grunt in reply, the young man sighed. "Come on man, I really need to talk to you."
Jim rolled over and checked his watch. "Damn Sandburg, it's only 2:46. Can't this wait until morning?"
"No Jim, it can't." Again he sighed. "I've got to know."
"Know what?" Finally, with the light and the constant chatter of his friend, Jim was fully awake. He pulled the curtain open so he could see Blair. The expression on the young man's face told Jim that this was going to be one of those *serious* talks.
Blair worried his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, then began. "Well, you remember at the fountain? When I.....well....when I briefly departed?"
"Yeah, though I try not to."
"Yeah....I know what you mean. Well, we had something special happen, ya know?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I was wondrin' if you had anything happen to you when that nut put you under."
Suddenly Jim looked nervous. "Did you?"
"Hey, I asked first." Blair complained, brows creased with impatience.
Rubbing his tired face, Jim tried to figure out how to describe what he thought he saw, or perhaps dreamed. Praying that his guide would take what he was about to say seriously, the sentinel took in a deep breath and began.
"I saw you...you're spirit guide, the wolf, fighting with a bear, while I was trying to take down a mountain lion." Jim tried to laugh. "Crazy huh?" He looked at his young friend, expecting the classic Sandburg smile and a smart remark, only to find Blair staring at him in shock.
Shaking his head, "No man. I saw it too. I mean, we were there, fighting against the other sentinel and his guide." Running a nervous hand through neglected curls, Blair's eyes filled with fear. "Man, how much more will we have to go through Jim? I mean, I enjoy entertaining the idea of being the Shaman of the great city, but this is just a little more than I bargained for."
"So.....it wasn't a dream."
"No. I don't think so. I mean, we saw the same things." Blair sighed heavily. "The old coot was right. I thought he was just a crazy old fart...."
Jim smiled at Blair's choice of words.
"....but it would seem that he was onto something. I just don't know how to explain it." The whole idea of switching bodies with the dead disturbed the young man.
"You know chief? There are some things in life that just can't be explained....Things that shouldn't be examined to closely and lines that shouldn't be crossed. I think it's enough to know that it happened and together we survived. Just let it go Blair, let it go."
"Maybe you're right."
"Of course I am, now go to sleep." Jim tried to roll over, shielding his eyes from the light.
"Jim?"
Taking in a deep breath, knowing that this conversation wasn't over yet. "Yeah buddy?" he asked tiredly.
"Do you think we'll be challenged again by other sentinel/guide pairs?"
Jim thought about it for a moment. "I hope not, but it would be pretty stupid and dangerous of me to think that we were the only ones left or that we would never be challenged. I think that the best we can do is watch each other's backs like we have in the past. Whatever the future holds, we can face it together."
"Yeah, together. Sentinel and guide." Blair beamed.
"Jim and Blair." Jim added.
Blair grinned. "Buddies?"
"Brothers." Jim replied seriously.
Shyly Blair looked down at his blanket, tears threatening his expressive blue eyes. "Brothers," he agreed, sentinel soft.
Minutes later, the light was out, and soft snoring filled the room. For the first time in what seemed like forever, the sentinel and the guide, slept a peaceful and dreamless sleep. The dream weaver was no longer a threat.
The End