"Whoa big guy, wait a minute..." Blair bolted around the car and caught his partner before he slid onto the concrete floor of the garage. "I got you Jim.  Man, you gotta stop beefing up - you weigh a ton, you know that?" he babbled as he levered Jim to his feet.

Somehow he got Jim to the door without them both landing on their faces. "Come on man, take some of your own weight.  It's not exactly fun here  - you weight about three times as much as me."

Jim's only reply was a grunt.

Squashing his fear, Blair staggered over to the elevator and pressed the button. "Flu my ass." he muttered.  Jim felt like he was on fire.  "Twenty four hour flu.  Make sure he gets plenty of bed rest."  he mimicked in a sing song voice as the indicator slowly climbed upwards.  "Yeah, and how the hell do I get him *to* his bed?"

Somehow he managed to manhandle Jim to the door of the loft.  Supporting his partner with one hand and fishing out keys with the other was no easy task, but he managed it.

"Come on big guy.  You're sleeping on my bed tonight."

"No."

Blair looked anxiously at his partner.  "You wanna crash on the couch?"  Oh *please* don't say you want to sleep on -

"My bed."  Jim mumbled.  My *big* bed."

Oh boy.  Blair pushed the door shut with his foot.  "Ok."  he tightened his grip on Jim's waist "Let's do this."

Getting his semi coherent partner up the stairs was one of the hardest things Blair had ever done in his life, but somehow, he managed it.

*oof*  He let Jim collapse on his bed, then bent over, hands on knees, until the spots stopped dancing before his eyes.

Straightening, he pulled Jim's boots and jeans off, then the sweat soaked shirt.  Fetching a wet cloth from the bathroom, he laid it on his partners forehead, then closed all the blinds in the upstairs room.

"Thanks, Chief..."

"Shh. try and get some sleep." Blair closed the door behind him, then padded down the stairs.  Using the light from the window, he read the contents on the bottle the doctor had given him.
Chemicals, chemicals, chemicals...exactly the same kind that had spun Jim out last time.  Great.  He tossed the bottle onto the counter, then fished out a saucepan, and a bag of herbs from his room.  Putting some water on to boil, he started chopping the herbs, humming a song under his breath.
 

"...In your sad machines,
You'll forever stay..."

Jim groaned and rolled over.  A hundred sadistic little dwarves were playing drum solos in his head.  And the smell.....  He fought down the urge to vomit.  Someone was stewing dead cats in his kitchen.  It had to be...

"Sandburg.."

"Hi Jim. How're you feeling?"

"Like I'm gonna puke.  What's that smell?"

"Here, drink some of this."  Blair offered him a cup.
 
Jim took it, and gave it a cautious sniff. "Ugh.  What the *hell*?"

"It's a ancient herbal remedy.  C'mon Jim, drink it. It'll make you feel better."

"*No way* Sandburg.  I'm not that sick."

"Oh yeah?  You pass out in the bullpen for fun?  C'mon, drink it."

"*You* drink it." said Jim petulantly.

"I'm not the one who's sick." Blair wrinkled his nose.  "Look, I know it doesn't smell to good, but it's either this or that cold medicine.  You want screwed up senses?"

Jim shot him a dirty look, but complied, wrapping his hands around the mug.  Holding his nose, he drank the entire cup in one slurp.

"*Jesus* Blair." he gagged, almost spitting the entire thing over his partner.  "What the hell is in that stuff?"

Blair opened his mouth.

"No, don't tell me."  Jim held up a hand.  "I don't want to know."  He leaned stiffly back on the pillows.  "I'm gonna try and get some sleep."  Blair nodded and scooped up the cup.  Taking it down to the kitchen, he rinsed it out, then as an afterthought, grabbed the white noise generator from the basket on the counter.

Tiptoeing carefully up the stairs to Jim's room, he entered quietly.  The Sentinel was sprawled on his back, mouth agape. Just like a big ol' Gorilla.  Snickering slightly at the mental image, Blair plugged in the white noise generator, listening to the slight hiss as it activated.

"Don't..." Jim mumbled, rolling onto his side.

"Jim? You ok man?"  Blair moved to the edge of the bed.

"Don't turn on the generator.  I can't hear you."

"I'm here Jim, it's ok."

"Can't hear your heart."

"You listen to my heartbeat?  Wow."

"Unplug it."

"Ok, ok." Blair pulled the power lead out of the socket.  With a smile and a grunt, Jim rolled onto his back again, and was soon snoring.

Shaking his head a little in amazement, Blair padded downstairs again.  Keeping one ear tuned upstairs, he pulled a sheaf of notes from his backpack.
 

Blue eyes, wide and alive, sparkling with intelligence.

Hands talking excitedly.

The endless waterfall of words spilling over him soothingly, accompanying the steady beat of a familiar heart.

His Guide.

Jim walked with Blair, past the couples holding hands, past the people walking dogs.  They stopped, at the edge of the water, looking out, just relaxing.

Then came the shot.

Jim saw those blue eyes widen with fear, pain.

People were screaming, running.  None of it mattered.

He saw those brilliant eyes close.

He heard the final, agonising thump.

Then silence.
 

"*NOOOO!*"

Blair jerked away from his notes in shock.  "Jim!"

He ran for his partners room, taking the steps three at a time. "Jim.  Jim!"

He clambered onto the bed, reached for the twisted bundle of sheets.  "Jim man, it's ok, shh, it's ok."  His hands stroked his partner's chest, face, soothing, comforting.

"Blair" The words an almost inaudible hiss.

"Yeah Jim, it's me.  It's ok.  Jesus, you scared the life outta me man."

"Blair!"  Jim lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his partners midsection, head pressed to his chest, *needing* to hear that familiar heartbeat.

"Hey!"  Blair was surprised, but he quickly returned the embrace.  "Shh. it's ok. I'm here.  it's ok."  His hands made soothing circles on Jim's back as he talked nonsense, anything, letting his voice reach his partner.

After a while, Jim relaxed, loosening his hold.  Blair eased hm down on the bed again and watched the steady breathing for a few seconds.  Satisfied, he slid off the bed and made for the door.

"Stay..."

"It's ok Jim.  I'm not going anywhere."  with a resigned sigh, Blair clambered back onto the bed.
 

Jim groaned and rolled over in his bed.  What the hell had happened?  His mouth felt like goat had slept in it.  He considered getting up, but changed his mind as giddiness swamped though his head.  Bad idea.

Blair tiptoed back in, a cup of tea in his hand.  He saw Jim was awake and offered it.  "Here Jim.  You need to keep your fluids up."

"No way Sandburg.  I am *not* drinking any more of that stuff."

"It's Chamomile tea.  Come on, drink it."

"It looks like - "

"It'll help you sleep man." Blair cut in hurriedly. "Come on."  he wafted it under Jim's nose "Drink it."

Jim took the cup and warily sniffed the contents.  It smelled all right to him.  He sipped it then got a proper look at his partner.  "What happened?"

"You got the flu, the doc says.  24 hour.  You've been pretty much out of it all night."

"And you decided to stay with me."

"Oh yeah, I wanted to keep an eye on you."  Blair hesitated. Should I tell him about the nightmare?  "Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah, I remember that herbal shit you made me drink." Jim said darkly.

"Hey," Blair threw up his hands.  "It worked didn't it?  Brought your fever down didn't it?"

"Get some sleep Chief.  In your *own* room."  Jim rolled over, unwilling to admit defeat.

He heard the soft footsteps down the stairs, the whisper of paper as Blair picked up his notes, the soft muttering as his partner arranged himself in his bed, surrounded by paperwork.

The steady thump of a healthy heart.

He smiled.  Glad you're here, Chief.
 

"Wakey wakey Chief." Jim jogged down the stairs from his room.  Maybe there was something to Blair's herbal remedies after all - he felt great.

"Uhhhhh..."

Jim opened the door.  His guide was huddled around himself in a tight little ball, crammed up in a corner of the bed, glasses dangling precariously from one ear.

"What's up?"  Jim could feel the heat from his partners body clear across the room.

"I don't feel so good Jim..." Blair trailed off, then clamped a hand across his mouth and fished desperately over the edge of his bed for the wastepaper basket.

Jim turned down his hearing as his partner vomited, then grinned.

Evilly.

"You know Chief, I know this *really* good ancient herbal remedy..."

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010