DISCLAIMER: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Paramount Television and Pet Fly Productions. No money has or will be made from the use of these characters or stories. This story belongs to the author. Permission is given to archive.

RATING: G

THANKS TO: The many friends, fans and writers in the Sentinel universe for friendship and inspiration. Special thanks to Barb for beta reading, guidance, and especially friendship.

This is a missing scene to the fourth season episode "Most Wanted." Viewing the episode before reading is highly recommended.

Feedback is always welcome!


Most Definitely Wanted

by

Alberte





Jim looked up from his groggy partner as Lindsey cried out at him from the doorway to the nursery, "Where’s Tyler?" Stunned at the realization that the child had been kidnapped, he pulled out his cell phone and quickly speed-dialed police dispatch, requesting an ambulance and backup.

Behind him he could hear the young mother becoming more distraught, as he closed the phone, stood, and turned to her. She began crying and talking to herself, "I don’t believe this…where’s Tyler...what happened here…I thought you guys were supposed to protect us!" He tried to put his hand on her shoulder for reassurance, but she angrily shrugged it off, becoming louder and louder as she paced back and forth, tears streaming down her face. Jim struggled to find words of reassurance, tried to calm her, as he also glanced over worriedly to see his partner’s eyes droop closed and his head fall gently to the side as he lost consciousness once again.

Fortunately, just as Jim began to worry that she might hyperventilate because she was sobbing so hard, or even hurt herself in her distress, his backup arrived. Rafe and Brown showed up at the door, having already been nearby when his call went out. As Brown walked up to Lindsey and began talking with her in his most soothing voice, Rafe checked in with Jim. Jim quickly filled him in, then as Rafe knelt down to the uniformed officer still lying unconscious on the floor, he returned to kneel in front of Blair.

"Hey, buddy, wake up! Come back to me here, Chief," lightly slapping the pale man on the cheek and squeezing his arm. Blair groaned softly, then his heavy eyelids slowly opened to reveal the glazed blue eyes within. He blinked slowly, gradually bringing the concerned face of his partner into focus.

"What…" he mumbled. He tried to lift his head as he looked around slowly, confusion reigning on his face, but didn’t have the strength to hold it up and he sagged back into the chair. "Jim, what’s going on?"

Jim looked deeply into his partner’s eyes, seeing the dilated pupils that signified that the gas was still affecting him, but also noticing that his heartbeat seemed slightly stronger and faster than when he first came in. He sighed with relief.

"You’re okay, buddy. Just take slow, deep breaths. Try to keep your eyes open, okay? You got some of that same gas that Rafe and Dills got last night, but you’re gonna be fine." He gently rubbed Blair’s arm, hoping that the stimulation would help his friend focus, and trying to keep too much concern from showing on his face. "I need you to stay awake, Chief."

Blair focused on the detective’s face, then a frown overtook his features, followed by a look of panic. "Gas? What...Oh my God, Lindsey…Tyler!" He surged up from the chair without thinking, pushing with all of his might to lever himself to his feet. Before he could become fully upright, however, his world began to spin and he raised a hand to his head. As an astonished look spread across his face his momentum, aided by gravity, continued to pull him forward until he keeled over onto a startled Jim.

"Jesus, Blair…take it easy!" Jim gasped, catching the falling man across his broad shoulder. He wrapped both arms around his partner’s trembling frame and eased him back down, cupping one hand behind his head for support as Blair slumped toward the back of the chair. He gently pressed him into a seated position again as he heard the paramedics arrive behind them. "Over here," he urged them anxiously as he again scrutinized his friend’s condition.

"Jim, what happened?" Blair whispered, his eyes closed and his forehead furrowed in confusion.

"Chief, it’s not your fault. You and Jenks got gassed while Lindsey was out getting groceries. Tyler and Harry are gone, but I’m sure Tyler’s okay, Harry wouldn’t hurt his own grandson."

"We gotta go after them…" Blair tried to lean forward, raising both hands to his throbbing temples.

"They’re long gone, Chief. Right now you’re not going anywhere until you get some oxygen and get checked out by the paramedics." Jim stood and moved aside as the paramedic knelt before his ailing partner. He listened as the paramedic began questioning Blair and checking him out, then looked up suddenly as he realized that he had just smelled the distinctive odor of his superior’s cigars. Just what he needed right now, he winced, his captain there on the scene to ream him for yet another screw up with this case.

Jim walked slowly over to face his captain, pasting his most bland expression on his face. Captain Simon Banks was standing just inside the doorway to the apartment, a grim look in his eyes as he surveyed the scene, his trademark cigar in hand. Brown had Lindsey sitting down and was quietly talking to her, the uniformed officer was regaining consciousness and being helped onto a stretcher by Rafe and one paramedic, and Blair was now wearing an oxygen mask and being tended to by another paramedic. There was no Harry Conkle or his grandson to be found. The angry set to Simon’s jaw spoke volumes even before he opened his mouth.

"Dammit, Jim, what happened here? Don’t tell me that Conkle got away again?"

Jim, looking down and almost anywhere except into his captain’s face, filled Simon in as they walked towards the open balcony door. He could practically feel the anger and frustration rolling in waves off of his superior. He knew what catching Conkle meant to Simon, how nailing a man on the FBI’s "Most Wanted" list would boost his career, and how badly he wanted to solve this case before the FBI did. The captain snapped orders to the uniformed officers that had just arrived, to canvass the neighborhood and interview neighbors. He knew, though, that all would likely prove useless in this case. Just as he opened his mouth to give Jim a piece of his mind, they both heard Lindsey crying out loudly behind them.

"You were supposed to keep us safe!" she shouted tearfully, spotting Captain Banks, jumping up and away from Rafe and Brown and running toward Simon and Jim. "Where is my son?" She turned towards Blair and shouted across the room at him as well. "Where is Tyler? Why didn’t you protect him?" Jim could see the impact of her words on his partner, who visibly flinched as her words sunk in. Rafe and Brown rushed up and gently took Lindsey again by the arms, with an apologetic glance towards the other men, and began walking her back into her bedroom.

Simon watched them move towards the back of the apartment, his face softening slightly with his sympathy for the young woman, then he turned and refocused a steely glare on Jim. "She’s right, we should have been able to stop him! I want you and Sandburg back at the station as soon as you’re finished here for your full report. I’m going to have to figure out what I’m going to tell the feds about this disaster."

Jim felt a sense of rising irritation. "Sir, I’m not sure if Sandburg should be coming back to the station. He…"

Simon cut him off gruffly. "Since you decided that Sandburg would be in on this little protection detail, even though he is not a cop, he will get in and file a report ASAP just like everyone else. Unless he is in the hospital, I expect to see him at the station. Do I make myself clear?"

Jim swallowed hard and ground out a reply. "Yes, sir."

With one last look around the room, Simon turned and headed for the door. He barely glanced at Blair, or at the officer being wheeled out of the door on the gurney, as he stormed his way out of the apartment.

Jim sighed and ran his hand over his head, feeling a major headache begin to bloom within. He talked briefly to Brown about the woman and getting someone to stay with her, and checked with the other paramedic on the condition of Officer Jenks. Then he walked over and knelt again in front of his seated partner, putting a hand on his knee. "How’s he doing?" he asked the paramedic, looking up into his friend’s face. "Do you think he should go to the hospital?" He hoped that a trip to the hospital might earn Blair a reprieve from the captain’s ire, and he knew that Blair had to have heard Simon’s diatribe. Everyone within a city block had probably heard it.

"He’s doing fine," Blair said in a quiet tone as he pulled the oxygen mask from his face. "I don’t want to go to the hospital."

The paramedic shrugged his shoulders. "Your friend here apparently wasn’t as close to the vent as the other officer, so he didn’t get quite as heavy a dose of the gas. He has a headache, and will probably feel a bit shaky and queasy for a while, but nothing serious. He can take something for the headache, like ibuprofen or Tylenol, but nothing stronger. Your friend shouldn’t drive, overexert himself, or have any alcohol for the rest of today. After a good night’s rest, he should be feeling much better tomorrow. Even if we took him to the hospital, they would probably only keep him a few hours and then release him." He reached over and took the oxygen mask from Blair’s hand, and began packing up his kit.

"If you two are done talking about me, can we get out of here?" the observer said, straightening in the chair and pushing his partner’s hand off of his knee. Jim looked closely at Blair, noting his steady heartbeat and respiration and his improved color, although his superb vision showed him that he was still a little pale and his eyes slightly dilated.

Blair avoided looking into the face of the sentinel as he carefully got to his feet and began walking towards the door of the apartment. He stopped momentarily and glanced into the bedroom, where Rafe and Brown still had Lindsey. He started to step towards the room, hoping to find something to say to Lindsey that would adequately express his apologies for his failure to keep her baby safe. Rafe saw him and shook his head "no" at his approach, though, and turned the woman slightly away to avoid letting her see Blair. He didn’t want another outburst by the distraught woman. Blair hung his head slightly and walked slowly out the door and into the hallway.

Jim hadn’t missed the exchange. After a final check-in with Brown, he hurried after his retreating partner and found him moments later leaning against the truck in the parking lot. Blair’s eyes were directed towards the ground and he was making an obvious effort to pull deep, slow breaths into his lungs, probably practicing one of his many calming techniques. Jim unlocked the passenger door and opened it, waiting until Blair was climbing into the seat before walking around the truck and letting himself in behind the wheel. He put the key into the ignition, and began to reach to start up the engine when he changed his mind and sat back against the seat, turning to look at his partner in concern.

Blair was turned slightly away, staring blankly out of the passenger-side window. Jim knew that he had to feel lousy from the effects of the gas, no matter what he had said to the paramedic. Rafe and Dills had gotten a dose of the same gas last night, and they had spent several hours at the hospital before being discharged. He was also sure that Blair was hurting from their earlier fall through a trap door in the old warehouse. Blair had not said a word at the time, not wanting to distract Jim while they were at the mercy of the criminal they had been pursuing, but it had taken him several moments to get up and he probably had a bruised back, and more, from the fall. Jim knew that Blair sometimes struggled with the physical demands and consequences of the job that were easier for his larger and more muscular partner, but he also knew that he never let it slow him down.

But he was most concerned that Blair was blaming himself for the kidnapping of the child, even though there had been a uniformed officer there as well keeping watch. There was nothing he could have done against the gas that had dragged him into unconsciousness. Jim wondered about the thoughts swirling around in his mind, but he knew that this case had struck a nerve in him. Their discussion about fathers the night before had been a brief glimpse into an area that Blair usually kept hidden, and for the hundredth time Jim wished that he knew how his partner really felt about his lack of a father in his most unguarded moments. He was certain that protecting Lindsey and her fatherless child had to touch him personally and deeply. He knew that he had to try to interrupt Blair’s litany of self-blame, and reached over to gently lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Chief, what Lindsey said, don’t take it personally, all right? She was just upset. We’ll find Tyler. He’ll be all right, I can’t believe that his own grandfather would hurt him." He could hear and feel Blair’s heart rate and breathing speed up, and he didn’t miss the slight waver in his voice when he finally spoke.

"I don’t think that Harry could hurt him either, Jim, but I can’t believe that we couldn’t stop this…that I didn’t see it coming…." Blair’s fists were clenching and unclenching as he spoke, reflecting the tension surging throughout his body.

"Look, Chief…." Jim began, but Blair continued as if he couldn’t hear anything but his own tortured thoughts.

"Man, this has got to be tearing Lindsay up! Here I thought I was helping her out, telling her that her father was dying and that she should really talk with him… setting them up for this big last minute reconciliation… like I knew what the hell I was doing. All the time Harry must have been planning to grab the kid and run! He must be laughing his head off somewhere!"

Jim cringed inwardly at the bitterness and self-doubt in his partner’s voice.

"Man," Blair continued as his voice lost its strength and dropped in despair. "I am so stupid, and Lindsay and Tyler are paying the price." He lowered his head and turned toward the window again.

Jim turned on the seat to face his hurting friend.

"Blair, you can’t take all the blame for this, buddy. Rafe, Dills, Jenks…they all got gassed too, none of them could stop it either. Do you think you should be better than they are? Do you blame them?"

Blair barely shook his head, and briefly raised his hand as if to wave the idea away as irrelevant, then let it drop heavily back onto his lap. Jim could see, in the reflection from the passenger-side window, the pained look on Blair’s face, and his eyes damp with moisture.

He continued, "We can’t control everything, no matter how hard we try, you know that. You were a victim here, too, remember, you got gassed as well… and don’t even try to tell me it was nothing and that you feel fine. I know better. And as for Lindsay and her father…" He sighed as he hoped he was reaching his friend. "Blair, you were just trying to help, no matter how it turned out. I’m sure that Lindsay understands that. "

Jim reached over again and squeezed Blair’s shoulder, pulling to turn his friend around so he could see his face.

"Chief…I know you. You couldn’t just not care, or not say anything, that’s not who you are. You wanted Lindsay to have something you’ve missed your whole life.…" He paused, trying to find the right words as Blair finally raised red-rimmed eyes to meet his. "You did the right thing, Blair. I know that doesn’t help much right now, but I know that it would have been worse if you hadn’t tried. You gave them a chance, Chief, that’s all that you could do. That’s all that anyone could do." He squeezed Blair’s shoulder gently, looking into his eyes, and tried to convey all of his friendship and compassion in that one glance.

Blair held his gaze for a moment, sniffing a little, and swallowed hard as he tried to stop the runaway train of his thoughts and emotions. It still scared and confused him a little when his partner could read his feelings so well at times, and at other times be seemingly oblivious. Maybe it was a sentinel thing, he mused, not for the first time, that heightened sensory input and processing could interfere with emotional input and processing. He’d have to think about that one another time. It touched him that Jim would try so hard now to ease his mind. He knew that Jim was not as tough and unfeeling as many believed who didn’t know him well, but he also knew that voicing those emotions was always difficult, even in their closest moments. He allowed himself to remember and get in touch with the depth of the trust, respect, and friendship that they had developed over the last three years. If Jim could let him off the hook, maybe he could allow himself to believe him, just a little bit, and could let go of a little of his self-reproach. The pain in his head and his heart began to ease a little, and he took a deep breath and looked up into Jim’s eyes once more.

"Thanks, Jim" he said simply, knowing that the words were inadequate, but also knowing that nothing else needed to be said between the two friends.

Jim gave his friend’s shoulder one final squeeze, then turned back to the steering wheel and started up the truck. He was relieved that he had at least broken through the initial barrier of his partner’s wall of self-deprecation, but he also knew that it would take a great deal more than a short talk for Blair to let himself off the hook for what had happened. Blair was truly one of the most emotionally and intellectually complex people he had ever known, even though he was well aware that there was still a great deal about him that was kept hidden behind his stories and obfuscations. He did know that Blair’s emotions ran strong and deep. It was one of the things that he most liked and respected about his young friend, his deep and abiding compassion for others, but he hated the pain that it sometimes caused him as well. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Blair was surreptitiously wiping his eyes and putting a determined look on his face. Jim promised himself that, once the case was wrapped up, they would talk some more.

It was time to return to the precinct and get back to work.

The detective and the observer were each deep in his own private thoughts as they drove back to the station. Neither relished the idea of getting back within shouting distance of Captain Banks, nor of having to deal with the FBI for the duration of the case. Each, unbeknownst to the other, silently promised the young mother that they would find and return her son to her, no matter what, and regardless of the final outcome of the Conkle case. Each also privately gave thanks for and reaffirmed their friendship one more time, knowing that they would somehow work it all through, together.

Partners rode in companionable silence as they headed back and refocused on the case.

THE END


Well, that's it! My very first. Please let me know what you think - good, bad, or indifferent. All feedback gratefully appreciated.

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