Something dragged him from sleep, maybe the irregular drone of traffic on nearby streets, or a subtle change in brightness that heralded the approaching dawn. Jim pulled the pillow from over his head as his mind slowly swam towards wakefulness. He rolled over and pried one eye open to glare at the alarm clock. Damn! He was late, and the alarm clock hadn't gone off.

He tossed the offending pillow off of the bed with one hand as he swept the covers off of him with the other. Climbing out of bed, he didn't even stop to put his robe on, just grabbed it from the foot of the bed and carried it downstairs with him as he headed for the shower. Passing Blair's room, he focused his hearing there for a moment, just long enough to note that he seemed to be in a deep slumber, his pulse and breathing slow and easy. Jim was relieved. As much time as Blair spent resting since he was injured, it didn't seem that he had really been getting much restful sleep. Maybe that was finally changing as he healed.

Ten minutes later, showered and shaved, Jim jogged back up the stairs to dress. Grabbing his gun and shield, he headed back down quickly. He decided not to wake Blair up to give him his morning medication, he would just take care of it when he came home for lunch. The kid needed the rest, and Jim didn't have time, anyway. He grabbed an orange from the bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter and let himself out, locking the door behind him. A piece of paper taped on the outside of the door caught his attention, and he yanked it off and read it as he trotted down the stairs, two at a time.

---------------

Blair woke up with a start, his heart pounding, wondering what had awakened him so suddenly. He had awakened earlier, needing to use the bathroom, and discovered that Jim was already gone when he called out to him on his return to his room. Figuring that Jim had just decided to let him sleep rather than wake him up, he had made his way to the kitchen and gotten a glass of juice, then decided to try to go back to sleep.

Last night was the first night that he had slept well without medication, and he had to admit that he felt better than he had for some time. Still feeling drowsy, and ridiculously tired just from listening to a game with his friends the night before, he had gone back to bed and must have fallen back to sleep right away.

Now something must have awakened him. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching cautiously as he did so. The sound of voices coming from inside the loft froze him in mid-stretch.

"…look at this place." "Yeah, nice place. Now come on, let's do it. We wanna get in and out of here…"

He didn't recognize the voices, and he certainly knew that neither of them was Jim. Blair stood, uncertain of what to do. The voices got closer.

"…I'll get everything in here, you go on upstairs and get everything up there. Hurry up."

He realized that he must be listening to burglars, who had broken in while he was sleeping and were working on cleaning out the loft. Reaching over to his nightstand to try to find his cell phone, he stopped suddenly. What if he called 911 and they heard him? What would they do if they discovered he was in the apartment, even if he couldn't see them to identify them? He knew all too well from working with Cascade PD the stupid things that criminals could do when their plans went awry. Or there was always the possibility that they were actually after he or Jim, and without his eyesight, he was an easy target.

One of the voices was coming closer, still talking to his partner, and Blair knew that he was out of time. He edged his way around the bed and headed for the only escape that he had, the fire escape outside of his bedroom window. He shoved and shoved at the window before remembering that he kept it locked. Cursing his own stupidity, he found and unlatched the window sash and forced it upward quickly, a gust of cold, wet air nearly causing him to lose his balance as he climbed out of the window.

He nearly fell when his feet hit the metal of the fire escape. The sleet and freezing rain of the morning storm had frozen a layer of ice on every available surface, with the continuing rain on top of the ice making it an impossibly slippery surface. Not having time to stop to put on shoes, only an old loose pair of socks covered his feet and gave him little purchase. Grabbing onto the sill with one hand, he closed the window with the other. Before he could think about which way to turn to find the downward ladder, another strong gust of wind stuck and he lost his balance, falling heavily on his rear and knocking the breath out of him.

Struggling to regain his breath, he leaned his weight back on his hands and felt around the edges of the platform with his feet until he felt the ladder off to his left. Scooting on his rear and pushing with his hands, he moved over to the ladder opening. Turning onto his side, he reached over with one hand and found the downward opening and the side rails of the ladder.

He stopped a moment to try to regulate his breathing and gain some measure of control. Afraid of heights even when he could see to focus on something else, the thought of heading down an icy ladder that he couldn't see was almost impossible to conceive. But the thought of one of the intruders looking out of the window and seeing him frightened him as much or more. He tried unsuccessfully to dry his hands off on his t-shirt and boxers, and found them already soaked with the cold rain. Shivering from fear as well as cold, he inched over and dropped his feet down through the opening and grasped the side rails of the ladder as best he could.

With a long slow stretch, his left foot reached a rung and he pulled himself forward towards the ladder as he made his right foot join the first. He struggled to keep his feet on the rungs as his wet socks slipped on the icy metal and the continuously strong and gusty wind did it's best to drive him off. He held his body as close as possible to the ladder as he took one cautious step down, then another.

His shivering got worse as the tiny pellets of ice mixed with rain stung the skin on his arms and legs and the wind slowly drained his body heat and energy. He continued his downward climb, dropping one hesitant foot to the next rung then lowering his body and the other foot to join it, stopping there momentarily to take a breath and muster up the courage to step down again. Blair kept a mental picture repeating in his mind of successfully reaching the bottom, getting help, and getting warm again. Only those thoughts and his fears kept him going, both thought and movement becoming more and more difficult as hypothermia began to set in.

Taking another deep breath, he reached down with one foot again, finding the next rung, then began to lower himself down. Just as he thought that his other foot was about to make contact, his first foot slipped off of the rung and through the ladder. His shriek of panic was abruptly cut off, his body slamming into the ladder as he fell.

---------------

Another barely muffled curse slipped through Simon's lips.

"Look out, you…" The rest of his comment was buried in a growl as he gently tapped his brakes, trying to avoid sliding into the driver who had just pulled in front of him.

The driving conditions were horrible. The freezing rain was sticking and freezing onto every available surface, including the roads. The citizens of Cascade, rarely exposed to the hazards of driving on snow and ice due to the relatively mild Pacific Northwest climate, were ill-prepared and inexperienced in driving in truly winter weather. In the few miles that they had driven from the station towards the loft, they had already passed six accidents, mostly fender-benders.

"Thanks again for driving, Simon. You know that your new all-weather radials are in much better shape than the old tires on the truck. I really appreciate your getting me home for lunch, and I'm sure that Blair will appreciate it, too."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna more than "appreciate it" if we get hit by one of these idiots. I'd better be getting one hell of a lunch for this," Simon scowled.

They crept along, traffic moving at a snail's pace. Simon turned up the defroster fan when the wipers began having difficulty keeping the ice off of the windshield.

"The temperature must really be dropping," Jim mused. "It looks like the rain is turning to snow and the wind's picking up. It's going to be a real mess soon."

"Like it's not a real mess now?"

Jim shrugged and looked out of the window at the winter storm. "It's a good thing that Sandburg's not out in this. You know how he hates the cold."

Simon nodded and stayed focused on the road ahead. They both listened to the weather report on the radio, the weather forecaster predicting more of the same for the next 24 hours.

Looking out ahead as they approached the loft, Jim noticed something out of the corner of his eye and glanced up.

"What the hell…" he gasped. Pointing up through the windshield, he gestured at the bedraggled figure on the fire escape. "Simon, that's Sandburg up there! What's he doing out here? See if you can pull up right under the ladder there so I can get a leg up onto the ladder."

Simon carefully pulled up next to the building and turned off the engine. Both men jumped out of the car.

"Sandburg! Sandburg!" Jim shouted. "Chief, are you all right?"

They saw no sign of movement, so Jim focused his senses more tightly on his partner. He could see how soaked his clothing was, how reddened his skin was from the wind and cold. It looked like his foot had slipped off of a rung and he had fallen until he was basically sitting on a rung. His weight was resting on one leg, his upper thigh resting on the rung, his other leg dangling down behind him. His body and face were pressed against the side rail, his arms tightly wrapped around it and a higher rung.

Focusing his hearing as well, he could hear no response to his shouts. Blair's heart was racing and his breathing was fast and shallow, almost to the point of hyperventilating. Jim could see ice frozen in his hair and on his clothing.

Simon shouted as well. "Sandburg! Sandburg!"

Jim still saw no response. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Simon.

"Simon, he's frozen there, whether from cold, fear, or both I don't know. The way he's breathing, I'm afraid that he's gonna hyperventilate and pass out. We've gotta get him off of there. Why don't you go up to the loft and see if you can reach him from up there. I don't smell any fire up there but be careful, there had to be some reason that he got out on the fire escape. I'm gonna climb up and see if I can get him down safely."

They separated, Simon running into the building and Jim climbing onto the hood of the car to reach the bottom of the fire escape ladder. Even with his gloves on and his heavily treaded boots, he had difficulty getting a good grip to climb up. As he made his way up towards Blair, he began talking soothingly.

"Chief, it's Jim. I'm on my way up to get you. Just hold on, okay? Don't move, I'll be right there."

There was no response, and he tried to move faster. He finally was able to climb up to just a couple of rungs lower than Blair, to where his head was almost even with his partner's. He spoke up again, softly so as not to startle Blair into any sudden moves.

"Blair, I'm right behind you. I'm gonna help get you down, okay? I won't let you fall. Are you hurt anywhere?"

He again heard no response, and he became even more worried that hypothermia had already set in. Blair was shivering violently, and Jim was worried about his ability to keep his grip on the icy metal. He needed to get Blair inside and warm as quickly as possible. Looking up, he shouted out.

"Simon! Simon! Where are you?"

The window above the fire escape opened and Simon peered out.

"I'm here. There's no fire or anything, I don't know why he went out there. How is he?"

"We've gotta get him down quick. He's freezing."

"Damn." Simon climbed out of the window onto the platform, slipping as he did so. "Man, this metal is dangerous. No wonder he slipped. How do you want to work this?"

"I don't know. Maybe you can come down as close as you can and help me lower him down. I'm not sure that he can move on his own, he's not responding. Give me a minute here to see if I can get through to him."

Jim pulled himself closer to Blair, putting one hand on his back. "Chief, it's Jim. I'm right here behind you. You can feel my hand on your back, right? Now I'm gonna get right up behind you, right up next to you. Then we're gonna go down the ladder to Simon's nice warm car." He leaned forward until his chest touched Blair's back and wrapped one arm around him, hugging him close for a moment. "See, I'm right here, and I'm not gonna let you fall." This time he noticed a shift in Blair's breathing and heart rate, and heard a whispered response.

"J…J…Jim?"

Jim let his head fall forward until his forehead touched the back of Blair's head in relief. "That's right. I'm gonna help you down, and Simon's here too to help. OK?"

"…falling…"

"No, we're not gonna fall. I've got you, okay? I just need you to listen and do exactly what I say, and we'll get you inside and warm in no time."

"OK."

Jim looked over the situation. "OK, here's what we're gonna do. Simon, I need you to try to come down and help me lift Blair up first so we can get his leg out from between the rungs. Then we can lower him down after that."

"All right, on my way. Give me a minute." Simon carefully edged over to the ladder opening and started down. He stopped just above them and wrapped one arm tightly around the side rail, reaching down with the other. "Ready when you are."

"OK. Blair, I need you to let go of the ladder with your right hand and reach up. Simon's gonna grab your arm and help pull you up so we can get you off of your leg and standing back up on the ladder. Then you and I will climb down, nice and easy, one step at a time. I'll be right behind you the whole time, so even if you slip I'll catch you."

Blair's response was so quiet Jim almost missed it. "Can't…fall…"

"We're not gonna fall. I know you're cold, buddy, we're gonna have you inside in no time. Come on, I'll give you a hand." Jim moved his arm from around Blair and grabbed the side rail as he reached for Blair's arm with the other. He pulled on the arm and finally released Blair's grip on the side rail, pushing the arm upwards towards Simon. "Man, Simon, he's so stiff. You're gonna have to hold on good, I don't think he's gonna be able to be much help here."

Simon grunted as he reached down and got a firm grasp on Blair's wrist. "Got him. Let me know when you're ready."

Jim worked on prying Blair's other arm free as he spoke softly in his ear. "Let go, Chief. You've gotta let go so we can get you outta here. Simon's got you, and I've got you. You've just gotta concentrate on getting your feet under you, and we'll do the rest." Finally getting Blair's arm free, and pulling it down to his side, Jim tried to get a firm stance on the slippery metal. "All right, Simon, pull!"

With Simon pulling from above and Jim pushing from below and behind, they managed to raise Blair enough to get his weight off of his thigh and get him standing shakily on one of the rungs, both hands on the side rails. Jim pressed up against him and wrapped an arm around him again for a moment, hoping somehow to lend him strength.

"Way to go, Chief, we're halfway there. Now we're going down, one step at a time. It's not too far now, and I'm right behind you so you can't fall."

Jim wasn't nearly as confident as he tried to sound. Blair was so weak that he would have difficulty coordinating his feet and legs, and Jim worried that he'd slip through the rungs again. The worsening weather didn't give him much hope either. He suddenly got an idea.

"Hold on for a minute, Chief. I've got an idea."

Wrapping an arm around the ladder, he reached down and unbuckled his belt. Pulling it out from his belt loops, he carefully wrapped it around Blair's waist then pulled the end back through a couple of his front belt loops before fastening the buckle. It was really tight around Blair's waist, but it helped hold him securely to Jim, his back against Jim's chest. Jim had to keep his longer legs bent a bit to stand on the same rung as Blair, but at least now he could use both hands on the ladder instead of using one to hold Blair up.

Simon watched as he fastened his makeshift safety belt. "Good idea, Jim."

"Why don't you go back and meet us down on the sidewalk. I think I can manage, and I'm not sure how long this old fire escape is gonna hold all of our weights."

"You got it." Simon carefully climbed up and off of the fire escape, disappearing back into Blair's bedroom window.

Jim took a deep breath and readied himself for the long trip down. "OK, here we go. One step at a time, buddy. Step down now."

He leaned back and away from the ladder and stepped down as Blair tentatively reached down with one foot, giving Blair room to move. Both men got their right feet on the next rung, then the left, then moved their hands downward. They continued downward, Jim instructing Blair on each step and echoing his movements with his own, the awkwardness of their joined bodies more than worth it in the security that it gave Blair to keep moving.

About halfway down, Jim felt Blair faltering more and more often, his body sagging back against Jim's. Finally, in mid-step, Jim felt Blair become totally limp, his head falling back against Jim's shoulder, his legs dangling down between Jim's. If they hadn't had Jim's belt tying them together, Jim was sure that he wouldn't have been able to keep him from falling to the ground. As it was, it was all he could do to keep control of their combined mass. He noticed that Blair was no longer shivering violently.

He leaned as far back as he could, to keep Blair's legs from getting in the way as he continued to slowly and carefully step down the ladder. His arms and legs began to tremble from the strain, and he briefly glanced down to see how close they were to the ground. He was grateful to see that he only had a few more steps and that Simon was waiting nearby.

"Simon, I'm gonna need your help. He's either passed out or he's too weak to stand, and I can barely keep us both up. When we get closer see if you can grab his legs and take some of his weight off of me so I can get us down."

Taking those last few rungs slowly, he suddenly felt the burden attached at his waist lightening, and he climbed down from the last rung, falling sideways as his feet hit the ground. He gasped for air as Blair fell with him, even as Simon tried to keep them both from hitting the ground too hard. Lying for a moment to catch his breath, he reached down and unfastened his belt, letting Blair slide over onto his back as he moved out from beneath the limp figure.

"Jim, are you all right?"

Jim rolled over to check out Blair as he answered. "I'm fine, Simon. But Blair's barely breathing and his pulse is erratic. He's ice cold. We've gotta get him to the hospital and warmed up. We can't wait for an ambulance, who knows how long it could take for one to get here on these streets. We'll have to use your car."

Simon ran over and opened the back door, then returned to help Jim carry Blair over and get him in the back seat. Jim ran around to get in the other door, settling Blair's head on his lap as Simon folded his legs in and got the other door closed. As Simon started up the car and turned the heater on high, Jim pulled his coat off and draped it over the damp and chilled body of his friend. He snugged it up tightly around Blair's shoulders as he smoothed the wet curls off of his forehead.

"Hold on, buddy. We're on our way. You'll be warm soon."

---------------

Jim shook his head at Simon's offer of another cup of coffee and slumped back into the waiting room chair. Glancing again at his watch, he noted that they had already been at the emergency room for almost two hours.

They had spoken briefly with Dr. Carver, who had been called in by the ER staff. He had told them that their initial examination showed that Blair did have hypothermia but no further injuries that they could determine other than bruises. They were working on gradually warming him back up to a normal body temperature. He had continued to be unconscious or nonresponsive so far, but Carver had told them that he wasn't too concerned about that yet, not until he was warmer.

He couldn't stand sitting any longer. Jim stood and began to pace.

"Jim, take it easy. He's gonna be fine, you heard Carver."

"Simon, he's not fine. He could have died from exposure, if I hadn't come home for lunch. And for what? Because some maintenance men frightened him and he didn't know what was going on because he couldn't see."

After reaching the hospital and watching Blair being wheeled off into the treatment area, they had sat down to try to figure out what had happened. Simon had suddenly remembered the sheet of paper that he had ripped off of the loft door on his way out, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to Jim. As Jim read it, realization suddenly dawned.

He had forgotten the notice that had been tacked to the loft door, the one that he had grabbed and read on his way out of the building this morning. It was from the owner of the building, reminding the tenants that the annual electrical and safety inspection would occur this afternoon and tomorrow afternoon. Every switch and electrical outlet would be checked for possible loose wiring or short circuits. Tenants were informed that if they weren't home, the inspectors would enter using the owner's keys.

The paper that Simon had pulled off of the door informed the loft's residents that the inspection had been completed, and that no action needed to be taken. Apparently they had come early and let themselves in to the loft, and Blair heard them and thought that they were intruders. It was the only thing that made sense.

"Jim…" Simon began, but never got to finish as Jim continued ranting in frustration.

"I thought he was getting a little better now, coping with things a little better, letting you guys come over and visit. But now…This had to have been his worst nightmare about being blind come true. Not only did he think that he was in danger from intruders that he couldn't see, then he slipped on that icy ladder and could have fallen and been killed. You know how afraid of heights he is, even when he can see. No wonder he was practically catatonic up there."

"Sandburg's tough, Jim, he'll make it."

"Will he? If he doesn't get his eyesight back, what does he have left? He's already lost so much, Simon, because of the dissertation fiasco, now if he can't work with me in the department…what will he do? That's all I've been able to think about since he got hurt, and I'm sure that he's been thinking the same thing. I don't know how much more he can take." He stopped pacing and slumped against the wall. "He's a lot stronger than he appears to be, God knows, and I don't think I've ever met anyone who can adapt and adjust to things the way that he can. But even Blair Sandburg has his limits. If he doesn't get his vision back, I'm afraid that today will have been the last straw. Proof, to him, of how helpless he'll be if he is blind."

"Blair Sandburg helpless? No way, Jim. He's probably the smartest person I know, and I've seen him figure out ways to handle situations like no one else. He's got his family and his friends, Jim, and he's got you. Everybody will be behind him, no matter what. You know that."

"I know that, Simon, I just don't know if it'll be enough for him. I don't know if he thinks he can make it."

Hours later, Jim shifted uncomfortably in the stiff hospital chair. He had refused to leave since Blair had been admitted overnight for observation. Blair had finally begun responding to the medical staff, but barely, only with a shake or nod of his head, or with one or two quiet words when pressed. He hadn't said a word to Jim or Simon, and he hadn't even moved once he had been settled in the bed by the orderlies. Jim was pretty sure that he was awake, by checking his heartbeat and breathing, but Blair didn't respond to Jim's attempts at conversation.

A knock on the door heralded Simon's return, a carryout bag in his hand. Jim waved him back and stood to leave the room.

"Chief, I'm going out in the hall for a minute but I won't be far away. Just say something if you need anything." Receiving no response, he turned and left the room and joined Simon in the hall.

"I brought you some dinner. How's Sandburg?"

"Not good. He hasn't moved or spoken since he's been here. Dr. Carver seemed to think that the combination of his fear of heights, his brief fall, and the hypothermia have all just kinda knocked him for a loop. He didn't seem to think it was serious, that he should be better in the morning after some rest. He gave him a mild tranquilizer, but it shouldn't be enough to knock him out. It's weird, though, it's like Blair's body is there but nobody's home."

"So how are you?" Simon asked, concern evident in his voice as he handed over the bag of food. "You don't look so good."

"I'm all right. I'm gonna stay with him tonight, I want to be here if he comes out of it. Dr. Carver said that he'd probably be discharged in the morning, so could you come and pick us up when they do?"

"No problem, Jim, just call me when he's ready. I'm glad he's gonna be all right."

"I hope so, Simon. I hope he'll be all right."

---------------

Jim pushed open the loft door and led Blair through.

"We're home, Chief. Let me close the door then we'll get you into your room and into bed. Dr. Carver said that you need to stay warm and rest, you're body's still recovering from that little outdoor adventure you had yesterday."

He shoved the door closed with his free hand, then led Blair slowly across the room and into his bedroom. Maneuvering Blair to his bed, he reached down and pulled the covers down before pressing gently down on Blair's shoulders to get him to sit.

Blair was like an automaton. He hadn't spoken since leaving the hospital, just nodded or shook his head when necessary. He had hardly moved unless Jim prompted him or assisted him. Jim thought it had been bad before, but this pale imitation of his friend unnerved him even more. He had kept up a stream of mindless chatter all of the way home and into the loft, but nothing seemed to reach Blair.

"Blair, you want to talk about what happened yesterday?"

A shake of the head was all he got in return, although he could sense Blair's heartbeat speed up.

"OK, you want to lie down or do you want some hot tea first?"

Shaking his head again slowly, Blair reached down and removed his shoes, then slowly lay down on his side and pulled the covers up, not bothering to remove his sweats. Jim resisted the urge to tuck him in and feel his forehead for any sign of a fever, and instead backed up towards the door.

"All right, you go ahead and get some rest and I'll check with you in a little while. Let me know if you need anything, OK?"

Getting no response, Jim sighed and left the room, leaving the door open. He walked glumly over to the table and sat down, lowering his head wearily onto his crossed arms. Another day and a half to go. Another day and a half until Blair's appointment with the eye doctor, thirty-six hours more to wait until the doctor's verdict on his eyesight. Jim knew it would be one of the hardest waits in his, and Blair's, life.

---------------

Jim climbed out of the truck and slammed the door. Walking around the truck to the passenger side, he opened the door and reached up to put a hand on Blair's arm. Blair unfastened the seat belt then stepped down into the parking lot. Pushing the door closed, Jim placed Blair's hand on his arm and began leading him towards the medical office building. A few steps later, he felt a tug at his arm and turned around to see Blair stopping.

"What is it, Chief?"

Blair cleared his throat, then gave his arm a squeeze. "Jim…no matter what happens…thanks, man. For everything."

That was more than Jim had heard from his partner in two days, and he was both relieved and touched. "You're welcome, Blair. For everything." He reached up and gave Blair's shoulder a pat. "Ready to go in?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Blair said nervously, and they headed on inside.

They were early for the appointment, but fortunately the office wasn't too busy and a nurse escorted them into a tiny examination room right away. After only another 15 minutes, Dr. Timmons and his nurse entered the room and didn't waste any time.

"Mr. Sandburg, is it? Well, let's see how your eyes are doing." He glanced at Jim only briefly. "Your friend will need to leave the room. There's barely enough room in here for us to do our jobs without any visitors. We'll get you when we're done."

Jim hated to leave, but didn't want to antagonize the doctor at this point. "All right, Doc. Chief, I'll be just down the hall."

"OK, Jim," Blair answered in a wavering voice, a weak smile briefly appearing for Jim's benefit.

He walked back to the waiting room and began pacing.

---------------

Blair jerked involuntarily when cool hands touched his face and began to remove the bandages covering his eyes. He grabbed on to the edge of the table and held on tightly, needing to do something with his hands to keep from yanking the bandages off himself.

"All right, Mr. Sandburg. Now when the bandages come off, don't open your eyes yet until I tell you. We're turning the lights in the room down, so don't worry if it's dark."

He tried to regulate his breathing to slow the pounding of his heart. Everything seemed like it was happening in slow motion, and he tried to remember a calming mantra. For some reason, not a single calming thought came to mind.

"OK, open your eyes."

Now that the moment had come, he felt an irrational urge to keep his eyes closed, the recurrent fears that nothing would be there when he did sweeping over him. He forced himself to comply.

It was dim. He blinked slowly, and something began to resolve itself in front of him. A blurred figure. A shadowy face.

"What do you see, Mr. Sandburg?"

Blair could barely breathe as he saw the lips moving as he heard the doctor's words. "I see your face. It's blurry, but I can see your face."

"Very good. Nurse, turn up the lights just a bit."

The room became brighter, and Blair squinted involuntarily as it made his eyes ache.

The doctor noticed and responded. "Not quite that much. Turn it down."

The light lowered to a more comfortable level, and Blair was able to stop squinting. "Thank you."

Joining the doctor at the table, the nurse handed him some instruments.

"I'm gonna look into your eyes now, Mr. Sandburg. I want you to follow my directions when I tell you."

For the next 10 minutes the doctor examined his eyes with a variety of instruments. Blair could hardly pay attention or follow instructions, the pounding of his heart pulsating in his ears and almost drowning out the doctor's words. All he wanted to do was to look around, to try out his vision. The doctor sternly got his attention.

"Mr. Sandburg, you aren't helping things. I need you to pay attention here."

Finally finished almost 15 minutes later, the doctor sat back with a look of satisfaction on his face. Blair was thrilled that he could see his expression, even though his eyesight blurred occasionally and seemed to fade in and out of focus a bit.

"So what's the verdict, Doc?" he asked breathlessly.

"As you can tell, your eyes have healed a great deal. Your vision looks good, for the most part, but you may still get a bit more improvement over the next week or so. The blurring and difficulties with focus should improve fairly quickly. I think that you may have a few more floaters, those little dark specks in your vision, than you had before your injuries, and a couple of spots of decreased peripheral vision. But that's it for the most part, I think that everything else is pretty much back to normal. You'll need to come back in about two weeks, we'll want to check your vision and you may need a slight adjustment to your glasses prescription."

"Thank you, Doc. Thank you." He could barely believe what he was hearing, the beautiful words issuing from the doctor's lips in stark contrast to the outcome that he had so expected and feared for over a week.

"You are a lucky young man. For now, the nurse will give you a pair of protective sunglasses. Wear them outside in daylight and even inside if it's very bright, for the next week or so. You've got to give your eyes a chance to get used to being active again. And limit your reading, TV watching, and computer use for the next two weeks, until I see you again. Rest your eyes whenever you get a chance. Your eyes will finish healing faster if you don't push it."

"Don't push it. Right, Doc." Blair couldn't help but practically bounce in his seat, even as he felt weak with relief.

"I mean it, Mr. Sandburg. You need to take it slow." The doctor stood and headed for the door. "Nurse, see that Mr. Sandburg makes an appointment for two weeks. And find his friend and let him come back." He left the room without even a goodbye.

The nurse pulled a pair of dark wrap-around sunglasses from a drawer and handed them to Blair.

"Not very fashionable, but they'll give your eyes the protection they need for now." She picked up the discarded bandages and tossed them into a wastebasket as she headed for the door. "I'll get your friend from the waiting room. I'm sure he'll be thrilled with the news."

"Yeah, he will, but could you do me a favor first? Do you have a mirror around here?"

"Sure. I think there's one in one of these drawers." She opened up a couple of drawers until she found a large hand mirror. "Here you go. I'll be right back with your friend and an appointment time for you."

Blair watched her leave the room and close the door behind her, then took a deep breath. He removed the sunglasses, then turned the mirror over and slowly raised it up in front of his face.

---------------

Jim practically sprinted down the hallway to the examination room. Even though she hadn't given him much detail, the smile on the nurse's face told him volumes. He rapped only once on the door before yanking it open and stepping inside.

Blair was sitting at a table, staring into a mirror. Jim came to a dead halt, his breath catching in his throat.

"Blair…?"

Turning away from the mirror, Blair looked up at Jim. His face broke into a wide smile.

"Hey, Jim…" he said softly.

Jim walked quickly over and knelt down in front of him, grasping Blair's shoulders with both hands as he looked into the long-missed but familiar and expressive eyes of his friend. He stared deeply into them, wanting to reacquaint himself with their varied depths and the emotions that always played on the surface. The joy and relief that he saw there were echoed in his own heart.

"You can see…" he blurted out, his voice rough.

"Yeah, I can," Blair replied, his smile growing impossibly broader. He let his eyes roam over Jim's face before returning to lock onto Jim's intense gaze. "Well enough to see that you didn't let your face get too close to the razor this morning." He raised a hand and gently touched the bruised side of Jim's face. "And that you really do have a world-class shiner. It must have really been something earlier in the week. You sure you're all right?"

He felt his own face split into a broad grin, a feeling that had been missing for some time. "I'm good. Really good. Terrific." Jim stopped and let go of Blair's shoulders, feeling embarrassed that he was babbling in joy.

A warm chuckle burst from Blair's lips, something else that he'd been desperately missing for days.

"Me, too, man. Me too."

They sat and just grinned at each other for a long moment, each gratefully taking in the vision of the other's face as if it had been years instead of days. The mood was broken by the entrance of the nurse, who handed Blair an appointment card as Jim quickly rose to his feet.

"We'll see you in two weeks, Mr. Sandburg. Don't forget to wear those sunglasses, they really will help. You take care." She left with a smile of her own.

Blair stood and put the sunglasses on, picking up the mirror and grimacing at his reflection.

"Ugh. Aren't these stylish?" he quipped, turning his head from side to side to see his full reflection. He stopped and studied his reflection for a long moment, carefully touching the small scars in his brow and on his chin, then put the mirror down. Blair turned to Jim with a smile. "Let's blow this place, man."

---------------

They'd been on the road for only 10 minutes, and Blair was already impatient.

"Come on, Jim, I wanna open my eyes. You're driving me crazy, man."

Jim grinned and glanced over, checking that Blair still had his eyes closed.

"You heard what the doctor said, Chief. You gotta take it slow. You're the one who didn't want to go straight back to the loft, you wanted to be outdoors for a bit, so stop complaining. I'll let you know when we're there."

"How 'bout a clue where we're going, then? How long am I gonna have to wait?" Blair whined.

"Just a few more minutes and we'll be there. Have a little patience."

"You must be kidding. I've used up all of my patience for the next ten years."

Turning up the radio, Jim couldn't keep the loopy grin off of his face. The sound of Blair's voice, their playful bantering, had been missed just as much as his view of Blair's entire face.

As if to celebrate the return of Blair's eyesight, the weather had miraculously cleared and the sun peeked out through occasional clouds as they rolled along the highway. Jim had already planned to take the whole day off to be with his partner, no matter what had transpired at the doctor's office, and now he planned a little something to celebrate. He turned off of the highway and onto a side road.

"OK, you can open your eyes now."

Jim slowed the truck as he drove through the park roads down to the beach and onto the sand. Glad to find it deserted in the middle of a work day, he nevertheless was disappointed. The closer that they had come to the ocean, the thicker the clouds were, and now formed an almost complete blanket from horizon to horizon. There was no sign of the sun to be found, and the day was dimming as sunset approached.

He heard a gasp beside him and he turned to look at Blair, who had opened his eyes and was staring hungrily out through the windshield.

"I'm sorry it's not a nicer day, Chief. It was sunny in town and I thought it might be nice to hit the beach for a little fresh air."

"Don't apologize, Jim. It looks great to me." Blair climbed out of the truck onto the sand and closed the door behind him. Jim joined him in front of the truck.

Even with the cloud cover, the natural beauty of the ocean beach filled their senses. The roar of the waves breaking, and the hiss of the water disappearing into the sand fought for attention with the screeching of the seagulls wheeling overhead. The brisk onshore breeze threw water droplets and sand into their faces as they walked slowly along the tide line, and the bitter odor of the salt water filled their noses.

They walked quietly side by side, no words needing to be said as Jim watched Blair reacquaint himself with one of his favorite places, looking greedily in every direction to renew every familiar vista in his mind. After fifteen minutes or so Jim indicated that they should return to the truck, not wanting Blair to strain his eyes so soon after regaining his sight.

Walking back, they were suddenly startled by a bright reflection on the water, and both turned towards the horizon. A huge red-orange sun breached the gap between the clouds and the water, and the water's surface quickly became a vibrant tapestry of color. They stood, mesmerized, and watched the shifting play of wave and color for a few moments before the sun slid into the sea, the rich colors fading to a dull pink as the daylight disappeared.

"Incredible," Blair sighed, a tear wending it's way down his face.

Jim, spotting the tear, quickly pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to Blair. "Is the wind irritating your eyes? We need to get you inside and out of the weather."

Blair smiled as he wiped away the moisture and returned the handkerchief. "My eyes are fine," he said softly. "Just fine."

They took one last look at the ocean before turning and walking back to the truck, Jim putting an arm across Blair's shoulders and Blair responding by wrapping an arm around Jim's waist. Both felt exhilarated and exhausted with relief.

"What do you say we go home, Chief?"

"Sounds like a plan, Jim. And Jim…thank you." The depth of emotion showed both in Blair's voice and in his eyes as Jim took one last look into his face before they got into the truck. He had to swallow to clear his own throat before his could respond.

"You're welcome, Blair." He turned on the ignition and turned the heater on to high. "And thank you. You're cooking tonight, you know."

"Me, I'm still recovering! I think I'm gonna have to rest my eyes for the rest of the day."

"Oh, you're right, I forgot. Then let's drive by Wonderburger on the way home and I'll pick up supper."

"Jim, I'm recuperating. I need healthy food, not that grease fiesta on a bun."

Jim looked over and laughed, the return of self-confidence in Blair's voice and the familiar gleam in his eye were welcome beyond belief. He knew that the argument would continue all the way into town, right up to the parking lot of the vegetarian restaurant that he had already planned to take Blair to for supper. An argument never sounded or felt so good.

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THE END