Warning: This story contains graphic material.
Inferno Part II
~~~
"I'm so sorry, Ellison."
Jim patted Brown on his good shoulder. "It's not your fault. You took a bullet protecting him."
Simon cleared his throat. "I'm glad I haven't lost one of my detectives." He paused, glancing at the floor. "I'm damn sure Sandburg wouldn't have wanted you to die for him."
"Wouldn't want, sir. You're talking about him like he's already dead," Jim snapped. "He's alive, and he's counting on us to find him."
Simon took a deep breath. "We've got every available man on the case, Jim. He dumped the Explorer in a parking garage, so we don't even know what car he's driving now. I know how hard this is for you, and God knows I don't want to lose the kid, but you've got to face the facts, Jim. It's been over 24 hours. We're working on a strict time limit here, based on Parker's MO. Our chances of finding--"
Jim raised his hands, storming toward the door. "I know what the chances are! We've got about 12 hours before we find Sandburg's body dumped in a park, or an alley, like yesterday's garbage. Twelve hours! And that means he's probably already been tortured." His voice cracked, and he looked away. "I'm going to find him, sir."
He walked stiffly out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
~~~~~~~
Blair's side raged with fire. His throat hurt, probably from the agonizing screams that it had been forced to sustain. The rest of his body felt numb. His mouth was intolerably dry, and he desperately wanted water.
"Blair?"
He heard the voice as a dim echo that reverberated through his skull.
"Blair?"
The voice was louder, more insistent. For some reason, he felt compelled to respond to it. His head felt heavy, like a lead weight against his chest. He didn't even have the energy to raise it.
"Hmmm," he muttered.
"Remember, you said your partner's gonna come for us? You remember?"
Partner? Jim? Oh Jim, where are you?
"You've gotta remember that, Blair. They're going to find us."
Jim's coming. He heard me. He's coming. He always comes. He found the strength to raise his head.
"That's it, Blair."
He saw April staring at him, eyes wide with concern. He should say something, shouldn't he? Somehow try to reassure her that things would be okay....
He forced a small smile on his lips. "He's coming," he rasped.
She smiled, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered.
He blinked. What had he done to deserve her thanks? "For what?"
"For giving us hope," she replied, glancing at the two unconscious women on the adjacent walls.
Oh. For that. He could have almost laughed. Hope. How long had he been there? A day? Maybe more? Hell, his bladder had already betrayed him twice, but he'd long since grown insensitive to the small of urine, no longer able to distinguish it from the rest of the sickly stenches. He swallowed dryly. Time was running out. Face it, Sandburg, Jim's only human. He's just a sentinel, not a psychic. He's not going to find you in time.
He didn't dare voice his thoughts to April. Instead, he simply forced the smile wider and nodded. "He'll be here. Don't worry."
The door opened, and Sandburg flinched. Please, no more. Parker walked into the room, straight passed Sandburg. He stopped in front of the unconscious woman hanging to Blair's left. He grabbed a key from his pocket and unshackled her ankles. Then he unlocked the cuffs around her wrists, catching her as she fell. Silently, he hefted her over his shoulder and turned toward the door.
"What are you doing?" Sandburg asked, his voice weak. "Leave her alone."
Parker smiled, barely sparing Blair a glance as he headed to the door. "Time to dispose of the garbage." He kicked the door shut on his way out.
"No!" Sandburg struggled briefly against his restraints, painfully aware of his dire helplessness. Parker was going to kill her -- if she wasn't dead already -- and dump her body. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Softly, he began to cry.
~~~
Some time later, the door opened again. Parker stepped in, briefcase in hand. Blair gazed blankly at the black case, his chest tight. He really didn't think he could take another round of torment.
Parker set the briefcase next to Blair, flashing a smile at the young man. Blair closed his eyes. Just let me pass out. Is that too much to ask?
He heard the soft rustle of a chain and opened his eyes to see Parker removing the cuffs from the woman on the right. When the woman was freed from her restraints, Parker carried her limp body to the center of the room. She mumbled something incoherent, turning her head toward Blair, her eyes closed.
Parker dropped her to the floor and walked over to the briefcase. He snapped it open and took out a small bottle of rum. Blair stared at the clear liquid, wondering what Parker could do with the alcohol. The man held the bottle firmly in his hand while he unscrewed the cap. Then he walked back to the mumbling woman and poured half the contents over her body, covering her face, part of her chest, and her right thigh.
He looked over at Blair and smiled. "Play time."
Blair felt the blood drain from his face. Parker walked toward him, slowly. He reached into the briefcase and withdrew the whip, holding it up in front of Blair's face.
"Take a look at this leather. Top quality, you know." He sniffed the handle. "Smell that? Real good stuff."
Blair realized he was trembling, and he felt his face grow hot with shame.
"Now, this is how it's going to be," Parker began. "I'm going to take you off of that pole and let you go over to Kristy there. You're going to do what I tell you, or I'll kill her." He put his hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a gun. "See this? This is to make sure you don't get any ideas... not that I think you have the strength to try anything, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
Parker walked over and closed the door, returning the gun to his pocket. Then he knelt next to the briefcase and removed a rag and a brown bottle filled with liquid. Blair couldn't see the label, so he had no idea what chemical Parker held in his hands. Parker opened the bottle and spilled some of the liquid on the rag. Blair reeled from the smell, reminded of his undergrad biology lab. Ether? Chloroform? Parker closed the bottle and rose to his feet. He stuffed the rag in Blair's face, holding it over his nose and mouth. Blair strained back, turning his head in an attempt to slip away from the rag, but Parker grabbed his hair and held his head still, keeping the rag pressed firmly over his face.
Blair felt as though the ground had given way. His vision blurred, and the room swayed. He felt horribly light-headed, almost nauseous. His eyelids felt very heavy, and darkness crept along the edges of his vision. His last thought before succumbing to the darkness was that he hoped he never woke up....
He didn't get his wish. He heard a voice speaking his name.
"Come on, Sandburg. Rise and shine."
God, how long had it been? It seemed like he'd only been out for a fraction of a second. With a groan, he opened his eyes. He was lying on top of the naked body of the woman Parker had called Kristy. He raised his head, glancing at April. She stared at him with sad, tired eyes.
"Good to see that you're back with us." Parker stood against the empty wall, aiming the gun at Blair. In his other hand, he carried the whip. "That stuff only lasts for a few seconds after the rag's removed."
Blair pushed himself off the woman, rolling onto his back on the cold, hard floor.
"No, no, Blair. That's not what you're supposed to do."
Blair closed his eyes. "What do you want?"
"What do you think I want? I want you to slap her around, then rape her."
Blair felt like he'd suddenly been kicked in the gut. He looked up at Parker, his eyes pleading. "Please, don't do this..."
Parker chuckled. "You shot my brother. This is how you're going to pay for it. You think you're so innocent? Well I'm about to change that. I want you to have a taste of the darker side." He cocked his head and grinned. "Maybe you'll even like it."
"No..." Blair closed his eyes, shaking his head.
A loud crack pierced the air, and he felt a slice of agony across his shoulder. He cringed, curling himself into a ball.
"That's what the whip is for, Blair-Boy. Now move, or the next one who gets a taste of this thing is little Miss Muffet next to you."
Blair trembled, fighting the sob that threatened to escape his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at Kristy. He rolled over onto his stomach and, with shaking arms, lifted himself onto his knees.
"That's better," Parker commended him. "Now give her one good slap across the cheek."
Blair raised one trembling hand. Kristy moaned softly. He closed his eyes and slapped her gently on the cheek. The whip cracked again and he felt the rush of air next to his hand. Kristy yelped, and Blair opened his eyes to see the woman covering her face with her hands, sobbing weakly.
"You bastard," he hissed, glaring at Parker. "You fucking, insane psycho!"
The whip cracked again, producing an angry red streak across Kristy's chest. She screamed, bringing her legs up and folding into the fetal position.
Blair felt a sharp pang in his chest. God, just shut up, Sandburg. Look what you did....
"Now, when I say slap her, I mean slap her. Do it like you mean it. Put some of those pathetic muscles behind it, boy," Parker insisted, shaking the whip for emphasis.
Blair nodded, grabbing Kristy by the shoulder and pulling her onto her back. God, forgive me. I don't know what else to do. His slapped her hard, and she yelped again, covering her already injured cheek with her hand.
"Again," Parker commanded.
Blair slapped her again.
"No... no more," she begged, crying weakly.
Blair clenched his jaw. He was going to be sick.
"Again!"
Blair turned away from Kristi and doubled over, gagging. He managed to vomit up some bile, which set his throat on fire.
Parker laughed. "You have such a weak stomach, boy. Now hit her again or I will!"
Blair turned back to Kristy, his face white as a corpse. He raised his hand again and back-handed her across the face. His own hand stung from the impact, and he winced, imagining what it must have felt like for Kristy.
The woman curled herself into a ball again and sobbed softly.
"That's good, Blair. Now do her."
Blair looked up at Parker, his mouth open.
"I said do her!"
Blair shook his head. "Please... please don't make me.... I can't....I'll do anything, anything you want, but not that...."
Parker stared at Blair for a few seconds, looking lost in thought. Finally, he shrugged. "Okay, fine. You don't have to rape her." He waved the gun toward the wall. "Move over there."
Blair pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. Slowly, he walked over the wall, willing his weak legs to support him long enough for him to reach his destination. When he reached the wall, he stretched out one hand to touch the cool brick, then collapsed against it.
Parker pulled a loose cigarette out of his jacket pocket and placed it between his lips. He then reached in and grabbed a bronze lighter from the same pocket. Casually, he flipped it open, lit the cigarrete and then tossed the open lighter onto Kristy's web body. Her flesh erupted in a blaze, and she howled insanely, writhing on the floor.
"NOOO!" Blair lunged forward, falling to the floor as he watched the flames engulf the screaming woman. He felt the heat against his cheeks and buried his face beneath his arms. "No, no, no..." he sobbed. "Oh God... Jim... I'm so sorry. Kristy, I'm sorry... Oh, God... "
Then it began to rain. Blair barely noticed. Finally, when he was thoroughly drenched, he looked up. The rain had stopped. The floor was soaked, almost flooded. Parker leaned against the adjacent wall, his clothes drenched, the cigarette no longer in his mouth. He kept the gun aimed at Blair as he glanced up at the ceiling.
"Betcha wouldn't have thought a place like this would have a sprinkler system, eh?"
Blair's heart pounded furiously in his chest. He turned his gaze onto the burned, unrecognizable figure of the woman on the floor. The stench of burnt flesh hit him full force, but, instead of gagging, he closed his eyes and screamed... screamed with rage, with grief... He screamed in agony at his own weakness. He screamed in denial of the horror around him. He screamed until his voice gave out, then he covered his head with his arms and sobbed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim played a morbid hunch as he steered the truck down University Avenue. Three of Parker's victims had been dumped in alleys within five blocks of Rainier University. Two had been dumped in a park across town. The last one, found only a few hours ago, had been dumped in an alley two blocks from the police station, like a slap in the face to all the officers in Major Crimes.
Parker was making this personal. So, Jim parked his truck a block away from the university, his ears open to the sounds of the city around him. Maybe, just maybe, Parker would dump his next victim near Blair's place of work, like he had the others. This time, he figured, Parker would bring the body closer. He closed his eyes. He only hoped the body wasn't Blair's. I'm sorry, Chief. I've tried. There's no trace. Nothing. This was his only shot. He didn't exactly relish the prospect of waiting around helplessly for another victim, but he didn't see any other options. This was a final act of desperation on his part, and he prayed to God that it would pan out.
About an hour later, his wish came true... either that, or his nightmare. He heard Parker's low, mumbling voice.
"Oh, Blair-Boy, if you'd only listened, but, no, you had to take all the fun out of it--"
A car horn screamed, sending a flash of pain through Jim's skull. His hands shot to his ears, and he closed his eyes, almost turning down the dial on his hearing. Almost. Instead, he opened his eyes and ignored the pounding in his head. He started the engine and pulled the truck into the street, heading toward where he thought he'd heard Parker's voice. Blair... God forgive me if I'm too late...
Three minutes later his sentinel vision spotted a large man dressed in a trench coat, returning from an alley two and half blocks from the main campus building. His vision zoomed in on the man's face. Parker.
Jim grabbed his cell phone and dialed Simon's desk. Parker walked across the dimly-lit street to a beige sedan. He looked around briefly, then hopped in the driver's seat.
"Banks here."
"Simon, I've spotted Parker. I think he just dumped a body in the alley near the corner of Fifth and Sierra."
"Oh God, Jim... Who?"
Jim's voice was tight. "I don't know, sir. I'm in pursuit. If I stop to check, I'll lose him."
"Go. I'll get backup on it and send a team to the alley."
He clenched his jaw. "Let me know what they find." Let me know who they find...
"As soon as I get that info, I'll dial your cell phone... turn it off if you're in a bad situation."
"Okay, sir. He's turning south on University.... driving a beige Buick Skylark. License 4DWD23D2."
"Got it."
"Simon, I can follow him from a distance. If any cruisers get too close, they'll spook him..."
"Understood."
"Thank you, Captain. Call me when you get that info."
"I will."
Jim ended the connection and flipped the phone closed, tossing it on the passenger seat. He stayed several blocks behind Parker's car. About ten minutes later, the cell phone rang. He snatched it off the seat and flipped it open.
"Jim, the body in the alley is a woman's. We.. uh.. haven't been able to identify her yet."
Jim breathed a sigh, almost hating himself for being relieved by the news. Sandburg was alive, but another woman had died because of his inability to track Parker. He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Parker wasn't going to get away from him now.
"Thank you, Simon," he muttered. "I'm still in pursuit. He's heading out of the city, southbound over the Bastrop bridge."
"There are three units behind you, Jim."
Jim glanced in his rear view mirror. In the distance, he saw headlights. He didn't risk using his sentinel vision to zoom in on the cars. He was sure those were the cruisers. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the car almost a mile in front of him. His own headlights were off, and he hoped Parker couldn't see the lights on the cruisers.
"Simon, it's pretty deserted here. Have the cruisers turn off their lights."
"Okay, Ellison."
The Buick turned right on a dirt road. Jim slowed the truck, not wanting to get too close to Parker and risk being spotted. Even with his headlights out, there was a fairly bright moon out aiding visibility.
Jim turned the truck onto the dirt road, keeping his sight fixed on the car ahead of him.
"Jim?"
"I'm here."
"Don't you dare zone behind the wheel."
"I'm okay, sir. He turned right on a small dirt road about a mile past the bridge." Jim thought he saw something in the distance and stretched his vision out even further. "I see a house up ahead." That's gotta be it. Hang on, buddy, I'm coming.
~~~
A pungent odor slammed Blair to consciousness. He whipped his head away from the stinging scent and opened his eyes. He saw Parker standing in front of him, holding smelling salt in the air.
I'm still in hell, he thought. Why doesn't he just kill me and get it over with?
"Hello, Blair. Did you sleep well?"
Blair stared at his tormentor numbly, not daring to speak... not even sure if he possessed the strength to speak.
"Wanna try this again with April?"
Blair felt the tears fall onto his cheeks. He looked at the limp body of April, her eyes closed. He saw fresh cuts on her torso.
"What did you do to her?" he asked softly.
Parker smiled. "Just a little more fun and games before I dumped Kristy. You were out for the count."
Blair closed his eyes, biting back a retort.
He felt a stinging slap on his cheek, and his head whipped around from the force. He opened watery eyes and glared at Parker.
"You keep your eyes open until I tell you. Got that?"
Blair bit his lower lip, then nodded.
Parker relaxed visibly. "You're catching on." He knelt and snapped open the briefcase, pulling out a large bottle of transparent, white liquid. He opened the cap and poured the liquid over Blair's head. Blair kept his eyes open, remembering Parker's instructions. He resisted the urge to struggle, letting the liquid stream down his face and chest. The liquid washed over the welt on his shoulder and slithered down to the burn on his side, setting each wound on fire. He bit his lip, stifling a scream. His eyes stung, and he blinked, trying desperately to keep them open. His eyes watered shamelessly in response. He opened his mouth, tasting the salty liquid.
Salt water, he realized. What's he going to do with...
His mind went blank when he saw Parker reach into the briefcase and remove the cattle prod.
Oh no.. not again... please, no more...
Parker raised the instrument to Blair's stomach. "Well, let's try this one more time before I kill you."
Parker pressed the stick into Sandburg's stomach and turned it on. Blair's body flared with agony, every nerve ending on fire. This was so much more intense than the last time, if such a thing were possible. He was vaguely aware of the sound of someone screaming. He didn't even realize it was him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Well, let's try this one more time before I kill you."
Jim cocked his head, honing in on Parker's location. He heard two heartbeats, one slow and steady, the other weak but fast. The crunch of gravel outside told him that backup had arrived. A deep, agonizing scream pierced his eardrums, and he instinctively covered his ears, almost falling to the ground at the suddenness of it. He didn't need sentinel ears to hear those screams. Then he realized there was only one person who could be making that sound, and he broke into a run.
He rounded a corner just as the screaming ceased, and his heart nearly stopped. He saw a door down the hallway and ran toward it, headless of danger. If Blair had stopped screaming... Oh God. He stretched his hearing out again and released a sigh when he heard the familiar patter of Blair's heartbeat, now alarmingly irregular.
Jim flew through the door and saw a staircase leading down. He followed it down into a dark basement. His eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness. His nose picked up a mixed stench, and he quickly dialed down his sense of smell. He saw another door in the far wall, and he heard the two heartbeats coming from the other side of it. He raised his gun and plastered himself to the side of the door, against the wall. Cautiously, he reached out and tried the doorknob. It turned freely, and he pushed the door inward, moving with lightning speed as he flung himself into a roll and landed on one knee, gun poised on Parker, his eyes focused on the limp, wet body of his guide hanging from a pole in the wall.
"Cascade PD! Freeze!"
Parker whirled around, and Jim caught a glint of metal. He fired twice. The bullets slammed into Parker, sending him flying backward to the ground. He landed with a hard thud, his body perfectly still, his chest covered with blood. Jim listened for a heartbeat, finding Parker's to be weak and erratic. Overlaid with that sound was a more familiar one -- the alarmingly irregular rhythm of Sandburg's heart.
With a glance at the woman's body hanging on the opposite wall, Jim tucked the gun in his the waist-band of his jeans and shot to his feet, moving to Blair instantly. He reached one hand up and brushed the side of his partner's face. Blair cringed away from the touch, his eyes closed. The gesture hit the Sentinel like a knife through his heart.
"No..." Blair's voice was low, barely a whisper. He began to cry quietly. "No more... "
The knife twisted in Jim's chest, and he clenched his jaw. "Easy, Chief. It's me. It's Jim."
Reluctantly, he moved away from Blair, crouching next to Parker's body. He searched the man's pocket, finding a set of keys in coat. Quickly, he rushed back to Blair, fumbling with the keys until he found the one that fit the cuffs around Blair's ankles. Once that was accomplished, he focused on the wrist cuffs. He found the right key on the second try, and opened the cuffs. Blair fell forward into Jim's arms, his body limp as a rag doll.
Jim cradled Blair in his arms, hearing the sound of footsteps descending the stairs.
"Easy, buddy. I've got you," he whispered to his unconscious partner.
Two uniformed officers burst through the door, guns drawn. When their eyes took in the scene before them, their faces went white. One staggered backward, out of sight. Jim heard the man retch several times. It was only then that Jim allowed himself to really look at his surroundings. The large, brick room had all the characteristics of a dungeon. The woman on the opposite wall was dead, of that he had no doubt. She was covered in filth and blood, and the right side of her face had been burned. Her head hung in front of her, eyes closed. Jim closed his eyes, struggling to gain control of the rage that threatened to overtake him. He took several deep breaths, keeping the dial on his sense of smell turned almost completely off.
"Detective Ellison, the ambulance just arrived."
Jim opened his eyes to look at the young uniformed officer staring down at him, a radio in his hand. Ellison frowned. He hadn't even heard the cackle of communication over the radio. Absently, he nodded, then looked down at the fragile body in his arms. He struggled to keep his breathing steady as he scanned Blair's body with his eyes, taking in the injuries. Blair had an angry streak of red on his left shoulder, probably from a whip. His right side sported a large, blistery burn, and part of the skin had peeled away to reveal glimpses of fat and muscle tissue. Jim swallowed, clamping down on his emotions. He couldn't lose control here, not in front of his fellow officers... not when Blair needed him.
He closed his eyes and lowered his face to rest his chin on Blair's head. "You're going to be okay, Chief. Just stay with me. A little longer, buddy. Just a little longer." He tuned his ears once again to Blair's heartbeat, holding his breath as he listened to the fluttering beat.
"GET THE MEDICS IN HERE NOW!" Jim tightened his hold on Blair. "Come on, Chief. Don't do this to me. Stay with me." He rocked the still figure in his arms gently, back and forth. "Hang on, Blair. Just a little bit longer."
The Emergency Medical Team burst through the doors. Two men rushed over to the woman hanging from the wall and two knelt down next to Jim and Blair.
"Excuse me, sir," one of them said, a young woman. "We need you to let go of him."
Jim continued to rock Blair gently, muttering soft reassurances. The two paramedics gently grabbed Jim's arms and slid Blair out of his grasp. Jim trembled with the effort it took to relax his hold on Blair, almost releasing a short sob when he felt the warmth of his partner leave his arms.
~~~~~
Ellison sat by Blair's bedside, holding his friend's hand in his own. Sandburg lay sleeping on the hospital bed, hooked up to the heart monitor, a tube in his nose. His burn had been scrubbed clean and bandaged as the doctor's prepared to do a skin graft, growing a sheet of Blair's skin in the lab for use in the surgery.
Blair had been unconscious for six hours, not waking up once since they'd brought him in. Occasionally, he'd mutter in his sleep, usually either calling Jim's name or begging for the pain to stop. Each time, Jim would hold Blair's hand firmly and utter soothing words or reassurance.
The hospital door opened and Simon walked in. "How is he?"
Jim turned to look at his Captain. "The same. He hasn't regained consciousness yet."
Simon nodded. "This was too damn close."
Jim nodded, his throat tight. "You should have seen it, Simon... Seen the way he was hanging there, limp, drenched in salt water and sweat. I touched his face and he flinched away." He swallowed. "That basement... it looked like a dungeon. They were chained up like animals, smelling like blood and urine." He closed his eyes. "It was hell... It could have been a scene right out of Dante's Inferno."
Simon patted the detective on the shoulder. "The important thing is that he's alive. He'll pull through this."
Jim opened his eyes and stared uncertainly up at his Captain. "You don't know that, Simon." He sighed. "He was tortured... probably watched those women die...."
"Jim," Simon began, his voice low. "I wanted to wait to tell you this, but--"
Jim's head shot up. "What?"
Simon took a deep breath. "We found a video tape."
Jim stiffened.
"There was a hidden camera hooked up to the basement, voice activated. Anything above fifteen decibals activated it, and it had a remote switch. Parker could activate and deactive it whenever he came and went."
Jim's balled his free hand into a fist. "Have you watched it?"
Simon nodded. "Part of it."
Jim's blue eyes flashed with an indescribable emotion. "And?"
Simon closed his eyes, bringing one hand up to rub his forehead. "It's bad. The worst I've ever seen... or could have even imagined."
"I need to see it," Jim stated, his voice flat.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Simon countered.
"I need to see what Parker did to him. I need to be ready to help him when he wakes up."
Simon sighed. "You need to stay here. Don't you want to be here when he comes to?"
Jim closed his eyes and nodded. Bring me a copy of the tape here. I'll view it privately in one of the administrative rooms here. I'm sure the hospital will okay that. If he wakes up, I'll be right around the corner."
"Jim you don't want to view that thing here," Simon protested.
"No one will see it but me. I'll be locked in a private room."
"Jim," Simon sighed. "I can't let you see it. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later when this isn't so fresh. Right now, trust me, Jim, it'll kill you to watch it. I had to shut it off a halfway through to spill my guts in the men's room."
Jim stared blankly ahead, fixing his gaze on the wall. "Blair lived it," he said, his voice low. "I have to know what I'll be dealing with once he wakes up.... psychologically." He took a deep breath and finally turned his gaze to Simon. "I was in Covert Ops, sir. I've seen all kinds of torture. This won't be anything new."
Simon inhaled a deep breath. "Listen, Jim. This is different. This is Sandburg we're talking about. You don't want those images etched on your brain."
Jim clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck taut. "I have to, Simon. I have to know. Please."
Several seconds of silence hung in the air as Simon studied Jim's impassive face. Finally, he nodded. "Okay, but I'll be with you. God knows I don't want to watch another second of that video, but I'm not going to let you go through that alone."
"You don't have to, sir."
"That's non-negotiable Ellison. Take it or leave it."
Jim nodded. "Thank you, Simon. Let's get this over with as soon as possible."
~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim sat rigidly in the chair as Simon popped the video into the VCR.
"This is about five hours long. Some of the sound isn't very decipherable, but you might be able to use those ears of yours to figure it out." Banks turned on the television and VCR and pressed the PLAY button. Then he took a seat next to Ellison in the cramped office belonging to Dr. Bailey, who fortunately wasn't due back on shift for another ten hours.
The basement flickered into view on the screen. The camera was fixed on Blair, who hung limply against the wall, his hands cuffed to the pole above his head. Jim could see the doorway to Blair's left, and an unconscious woman hung to Blair's right. Parker walked through the door, looking straight at the camera. A grin spread across his face.
"Hello to the fine men and woman of the Cascade Police Department, and, particularly, to Detectives Ellison, Rafe, and Brown. Oh, and of course I mustn't forget Captain Simon Banks. This is a little 'thank you' gift to all of you for putting four bullet holes in my brother. I must warn you, this film is rated... well, off the scale. I sincerely hope you haven't eaten within the past couple of hours."
The image flickered, indicating that the camera had been shut off, then reactivated. It remained focused on Blair, but Parker was no longer in the room. Blair was now awake, and the camera cut in with the young man speaking.
"-- Can you hear me?" Blair asked, his voice slurred. He stared at someone off-camera, probably the woman who had been chained to the wall opposite him.
"My name is Blair Sandburg. I'm a consultant for the Cascade Police Department."
He saw Blair gasp. "Who are you?" He kept his voice soft and steady, speaking slowly so his words came out distinct and clear.
Sevaral seconds of silence, then, "April Savino."
"April, I want you to know that help is on its way. My partner knows I've been taken. I'm sure the entire police force is out there looking for us. They'll find us. It might take them a liitle while, but they will find us."
Jim's felt a tight pressure clamp over his heart. I'm sorry it wasn't sooner, Chief.
The woman spoke. "You're a cop?"
"A police consultant. Not a cop. My partner is a detective in Major Crimes. He'll find us," Blair repeated.
Suddenly the door flew open and Parker walked in, carrying a large, black briefcase. He walked over to Blair and set the briefcase down.
"Comfy?"
Blair remained silent.
"Nothing to say? Just as well. It's time to get the show on the road, so to speak," Parker said.
The large man bent down, snapping the case open. Blair cringed visibly when as he gazed down at the contents.
Parker glanced up at Blair, an evil smile on his lips. He reached for the cattle prod, his hand wrapping around the smooth handle. He stood up, rising to his full height, and towered over Blair. He raised the instrument to Blair's chest, keeping it poised a few inches from the younger man's right shoulder.
"Let me see, is this where you shot my brother?"
Parker pressed the cattle prod hard against Blair's shoulder. Sandburg arched his back and screamed, struggling convulsively against the bonds that held his wrists and ankles. A minute later, Parker pulled the instrument away from Blair, and the young man went limp, his head falling forward until his chin rested against his chest.
Parker patted Blair on the cheek. "Aw, come one. You can't check out now. We haven't even started."
Blair raised his head slowly, fixing angry blue eyes on the man in front of him. "You're insane. A fucking psycho," he whispered, his voice strained.
Simon looked over at Jim, the detective's gaze fixed on the screen in front of him, his head tilted slightly. "Could you make that out?"
Jim nodded. "Blair called him a psycho."
Simon nodded, allowing himself a small smile before turning his attention back to the screen.
Parker smiled, dropping the cattle prod to the ground. He reached into the briefcase and withdrew the blow torch. Blair's eyes widened and, with renewed vigor, he struggled against the restraints.
"STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU HEADCASE!" His screams pierced the air loudly. He bucked wildly, trying desperately to free himself from the cuffs.
Parker grinned happily, baring his teeth, as he turned on the blow torch. The narrow, blue-tipped flame flared to life. Parker waved the torch in front of Blair's face, laughing as the young man tried to back away from the flame. Slowly, Parker lowered the flame.
"Please, listen to me," Blair begged. "I didn't want to shoot your brother. I tried to save his life. I--"
"SHUT UP!"
Parker pressed the flame into Sandburg's right side. Blair's head shot back and he screamed. Parker withdrew the flame quickly, giggling as Blair sagged forward, sobbing quietly.
Simon glanced at Jim, who sat stiff as a statue in the chair, his hands clenched into fists on his lap, knuckles white.
~~~~~~~~~
Five hours later, the tape came to a fuzzy end. The two men sat in shocked silence, staring blankly at the screen. Finally, Simon grabbed the remote from the desk and turned the power off on both the TV and VCR. He looked over at Jim, whose face looked deathly pale, and laid a gentle hand on the detective's shoulder.
"You okay, Jim?"
Jim didn't move. "I need to be alone for a moment."
Simon nodded and quietly walked out the door. Jim sat alone in the small office. He leaned forward, buried his face in his hands, and cried.
~~~~~~~~~
Jim found himself once again sitting at Blair's bedside. The hospital door opened, and he looked up.
"Hey, how's the kid?" Brown walked over to the bed, his arm in a sling, and placed a hand on the bed rail.
Jim gazed blankly at the detective. "He'll pull through."
Brown smiled. "I knew he would. The kid's a fighter."
Jim nodded, turning his eyes back to Blair.
"You okay, Ellison? Is there anything I can do?"
Jim shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Jim. I volunteered to protect him, and I let Parker get to him. I--"
"It's not your fault." It's my fault.
"Well, when he wakes up, let him know... well, tell him I said I'm sorry."
Jim nodded. "Go home, Brown."
"Okay, Ellison. Try to get some sleep. You look exhausted."
Jim nodded. "Thanks." He didn't think he'd ever sleep again, not after watching that video.
Brown left, and Jim sat silently for a long time, gazing steadily at his guide's sleeping face. Blair looked so peaceful sleeping there, and Jim could almost imagine that the past couple of days never happened. His fantasy was quickly shattered when Blair's face contorted suddenly and the young man released a single, muffled sob.
Jim bolted from the chair and grabbed his friend's hand. "Easy, Chief. You're okay. I'm right here."
Blair's eyes fluttered open. He stared up at Jim, his expression blank. Slowly, recognition filled his eyes. He looked down at Jim's hand, then back up. He began to tremble gently. His heart rate escalated, echoed by the beeping of the monitor.
Jim placed his free hand on Blair's forehead, brushing away a stray curl. "Hey, Blair. It's okay. You're safe now."
"April?" His voice was soft and unsteady.
Jim looked away for a fraction of a second. "Don't worry about that now."
"No...." Blair's trembling grew more violent. The beeping of the heart monitor grew more frantic.
"Shhh... Take it easy, Chief. I'm right here," Jim soothed.
Apparently the kind tone was more than Blair could take, and he gave into the grief and fear so visibly etched on his face. He burst into tears, shaking uncontrollably, tightening his grip on Jim's hand. Jim quickly lowered the rail and sat on the edge of the bed, scooping Blair into a gentle but firm embrace. Blair buried his face in Jim's chest, grabbing the fabric of the larger man's shirt in his white, trembling hands. His cries escalated to sobbing, angry screams, muffled by Jim's chest.
Jim kept his arms wrapped around Blair, offering protection and comfort. "That's it. Let it go, Blair. You're safe here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Next Day...
Jim paced the length of the waiting room, his jaw clenched.
"Sit down, Ellison, you're making everyone nervous," Simon suggested.
Jim looked over at his captain, who was seated awkwardly in one of the hard orange chairs against the wall. Then he scanned the anxious faces of the other detectives from Major Crimes: Taggart, Rafe, and Brown.
Taggart nodded, patting the empty seat next to him. "Take a break, Jim. They'll let us know as soon as they're finished."
Jim took a deep breath, then nodded, walking to the chair and collapsing into it. He tilted his head back against the wall and stared at the ceiling. "What's taking them so long?"
"It's only been a couple of hours, Jim," Simon answered. "It's a skin graft, you can't expect them to be in and out just like that."
Jim closed his eyes, releasing a tired sigh. God, he was exhausted. He hadn't slept in.... well, he couldn't remember. He desperately wanted to tune his hearing to the operating room, but he knew in his sleep-deprived state he was primed for a zone-out, and he didn't want to risk one in front of his co-workers.
A few hours later, a doctor emerged for the double doors down the hall. She walked quickly over to the waiting room, straightening her aqua scrub shirt and slipping her head covering off, tucking it in the pocket on the leg of her scrubs. Jim rose immediately, meeting her halfway, followed closely by four large men.
Jim stopped in front of the doctor. "How's Sandburg?"
She smiled, and Jim felt the knot in his stomach relax.
"The surgery went very well." She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. "Mr. Sandburg's in recovery, and we'll keep an eye on him for an hour or so before returning him to his r--"
"Can I see him?"
She tilted her head. "Normally we only let family in, but you are listed as next of kin on his chart." She nodded. "Okay, follow me, but I can only let you in for a few minutes."
Jim nodded. "Thank you, Doctor." He turned to the four men behind him. "I'll be back soon."
Jim followed the doctor to a large room filled with a row of beds against opposite walls. Most of the patients were semi-conscious, though some looked barely alive. Jim swallowed, his jaw muscles tight. He immediately honed in on the dark mass of curls a few beds down on his right and hurried his steps.
Blair was conscious, but his face looked deathly pale, and his eyelids rested half-closed. Jim approached the side of Blair's bed and placed a hand on the young man's uninjured shoulder.
"Hey, Chief."
Blair lifted tired eyelids to look at Jim. He raised one hand and rubbed his throat.
"You want some water?" Jim asked.
Blair nodded.
Jim turned to one of the nurses attending to a patient on the opposite wall. "Excuse me, ma'am, could I get some water for him?"
The nurse looked up and glanced at Blair. She nodded. "He can only have a few sips for now. Once he's a bit more awake, he can have more."
She pulled her patient's blanket up to his chin and headed off. "I'll be back with the water," she told Jim, glancing over her shoulder.
Jim nodded his thanks, then looked back down at Blair. "It's on its way, buddy."
A minute later, the nurse returned, handing a styrofoam cup and a straw to the detective. Jim took it gratefully and placed the straw between Blair's lips.
"Easy, now. Just a few sips," Jim instructed.
Blair took several greedy gulps, and on the fourth one, Jim took the cup away.
"More," Blair croaked.
Jim shook his head. "In a little bit. Once you're more awake."
"I'm awake."
"In a little bit," Jim repeated.
Blair closed his eyes, drifting into a fragile sleep. The doctor walked up to Blair's bed and looked at Jim. "Once he's shaken off a bit of the anesthesia, we'll transfer him back to his room." She pulled a penlight from her shirt pocket and reached down to open one of Blair's eyelids. Then she shined the light in his pupils.
Blair flinched back, pressing into the pillow as he turned his head to the side and clamped his eyes closed. "No," he mumbled hoarsely. "Don't..."
Jim pressed his hand on Blair's forehead and leaned closer to his partner. "It's okay, Blair. It's Jim. I'm right here. No one's going to hurt you."
"Mr. Sandburg, it's okay. I'm Doctor Kapler. You're in a hospital," the woman said, her tone cool and professional.
"No more," Blair rasped.
Jim threw the woman an annoyed glance, quickly turning his attention back to Sandburg. "No more, Chief. I promise. You're safe. Open your eyes. Come on, Blair, open your eyes."
Blair's eyelids floated up.
"That's it, Chief."
Blair focused on Jim's face, his eyes growing wet. "Stay."
Jim grabbed Blair's hand. "I'm right here. I won't go anywhere, I promise."
"Uh, Mr. Ellison--"
Jim 's head snapped up, and he fixed the doctor with a cold glare. "I'm staying. He needs me here."
Doctor Kapler looked momentarily uncertain, then nodded.
Jim relaxed. "Thank you. Could you tell the men in the waiting room that I'll be staying here?"
"Sure, I'll send a volunteer out to let them know."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim wheeled the chair around to the side of the bed and patted the seat. "Come on, Chief. Hospital policy."
Blair fastened the last button on his blue shirt and slid off the bed, wordlessly easing himself into the chair. That, more than anything, worried Jim. It wasn't like Blair to be so quiet and sullen. He should be complaining -- eager to go home and indignant at having to use the wheelchair when he was 'perfectly capable of walking'. These past few days, however, Blair had been reduced to one word answers and brief, curt phrases.
Jim tried to reassure himself that this was a normal reaction to the trauma his partner had experienced. He should be grateful Blair was at least coherent and composed. Only when the young man slept did he lose control and allow the nightmare to resurface. Jim made sure he was there every time, waking his partner from the night terrors and calming his tremors with soft, soothing words.
Banks had made an appointment for each of them with the department psychologist. Jim was scheduled to see her tomorrow morning, and Blair would go the following afternoon. The detective hadn't yet mentioned the appointment to his partner. He didn't quite know how Blair would react, and he wanted to wait until they were home at the loft before broaching the subject.
Jim wheeled the chair into the vacant elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. After a brief hesitation, the elevator doors slid closed.
"All the guys at the station are anxious to see you," Jim said.
Blair remained silent, gazing solemnly at the floor.
"Brown asks about you every day."
Blair raised his head, glancing back at Jim. "He's okay?"
Jim nodded. "He's fine. He's still in a sling, which has earned him a nice, lazy vacation."
Blair swallowed, then turned his gaze back to the floor. "I'm sorry. You were right, I shouldn't have gone back to work."
Jim placed a hand on Blair's shoulder. "Don't go there, Chief. You were right, you get paid for your university work. You needed to be there."
"It wasn't worth Brown's life."
"Brown's alive. He's fine. He's more worried about you." Jim sighed. "He feels guilty for letting you down."
"He didn't."
"I know. You can tell him that when you see him, Chief"
"Okay."
Jim shook his head, giving Blair's shoulder a final squeeze. He desperately wanted to see Blair smile again, hear the chuckle in his voice, see the glint of mirth in his eyes. Jim's thoughts were interrupted when the elevator doors slid open.
"Hairboy!"
Jim forced a smile on his face as he wheeled Blair to the group of men rushing forward. Brown and Simon led the way, and Blair raised his eyes to greet the smiling faces.
"Brown..." Blair raised his gaze to look at the grinning detective, and his face immediately lit up as a broad smile touched his lips.
There's the old Sandburg. Jim found his own forced smile suddenly growing wider and more sincere. He looked at Brown, silently promising to put the man at the top of his Christmas list next year, right after Sandburg, of course.
Brown reached out to ruffle Blair's hair. "It's really good to see you."
Blair glanced at the detective's sling. "How's the shoulder?"
Brown shrugged his good shoulder. "Hey, just another war wound to woo the ladies with."
Sandburg chuckled. "I can give you some obfuscation tips, if you like."
The detective laughed. "You are the master."
Sandburg held his smile a moment longer, then it faded slowly. His eyes grew more serious as he gazed at Brown. "You're really okay?"
Brown nodded, glancing briefly up at Jim. "Yeah, I'm fine. It probably looked a lot worst than it is."
Blair looked at the floor. "It did... all that blood... I thought..."
"Hey," Brown interrupted. "I'm fine. I'm just sorry I let him get to you, kid. I screwed up. I--"
Sandburg raised his hands. "Hey, this isn't your fault. It's mine. I'm the one who insisted on going to the university in the first place. If I hadn't been so... so... stupid, you never would have gotten shot." He swallowed, his gaze once again returning to the floor.
Brown looked questioningly up at Jim, who glanced at Simon, who looked down at Sandburg.
"Sandburg, you're not the first person in the history of this nation to need police protection," Simon began. "You handled yourself pretty good out there. You kept your head, you attended to Brown -- even though you should have just gotten the hell out of there -- and you gave Jim the description of Parker's car."
Blair kept his gaze pinned to the floor. "Thanks, Captain," he said, his voice flat.
Simon cast an anxious glance in Jim's direction. The detective shook his head and then looked down at Blair, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Chief. Let's get you home."