"Absolutely not," Jim growled.

"No way, man. No way," Blair chimed in protest.

The two men stood next to each other, both gazing apprehensively up at the towering tree.

"This is how it has been done. Perhaps there are other ways, but this is the way that I know," Emprado said.

"Forget it." Blair began pacing, running his fingers through his hair. "This is ridiculous. I've already done worse than that. I've jumped out of a plane for chrissakes! Doesn't that count?"

Jim quickly translated Blair's tirade for the Chopec shaman. Emprado shook his head. "You do not have to do this, but by facing your fears and tasting success, it will help to build the strength you need to accept the fear that troubles you now. It will help you to defeat the black wolf and walk the path of the shaman."

Jim translated again and Blair shook his head. "This is stupid. If I fall and break my neck I'm not going to be conquering anything."

Emprado sighed, looking from Blair to Jim. "He cannot be forced to do it. It is his choice. If he chooses not to, I will try to help him find other ways of confronting the dark spirit."

Jim turned to Blair and translated the Chopec's words.

"Great," Sandburg sighed, his shoulders hunching as he peered anxiously up at the intimidating tree. "I still feel woozy, you know, Jim. I'm telling you right now that I'm going to fall."

Jim swallowed hard. It sounded like Blair had already made up his mind to do it, but with that negative attitude the kid was sure to get himself killed. "Think positive, Chief. If you're convinced you're going to fall, you will."

Blair grimaced, but turned his gaze back to Jim. He seemed on the verge of making a retort, but settled for looking back up at the tree. "Give me a boost to the lowest branch?"

Jim managed a smile. "Sure." The lowest branch was about three feet over Blair's head, a testament to just how damn high the monstrous tree rose. Jim laced his fingers together and crouched low.

"Thanks," Blair mumbled, setting one foot in Jim's cupped hands. With a grunt, Jim hefted his partner up and Blair grabbed the low branch easily. "These branches aren't very thick, Jim. Does he really think these will hold me?"

Jim studied the branched, gauging their strength. "The lower ones should. I'm not so sure about the ones toward the top."

"He wants me to go to the top, Jim!"

"Just go as far as the branches will take you," Jim replied.

With a sigh, Blair pulled himself up and swung his legs over the branch. "Oh man, I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered, then rose shakily to grab the next branch.

From the ground, Jim monitored his partner's progress like a cat tracking a mouse, his eyes focused on the ascending figure and his ears tuned to the younger man's pounding heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I must still be dreaming, 'cause no way does this make any kind of sense, Blair bemoaned silently as his hands wrapped around the tree branch directly above. Grunting, he pulled himself up and straddled the branch. Don't look down. Just don't look down. He wasn't quite sure just how high he'd climbed, but if he had to guess, he'd say forty or fifty feet. High enough for a fall to kill him... or paralyze him... or leave him permanently brain damaged. Lovely. I must already be brain damaged to be up here. His stomach churned, reminding him that he wasn't fully recovered and that he hadn't eaten for quite some time. Good thing there's nothing in my stomach to throw up or else Jim and Emprado would be in for an unpleasant surprise.

He glanced up, estimating the remaining distance to be about another 10 or 15 feet. The tree branches were getting awfully thin, and he didn't think the higher ones would hold his weight. He could probably make it another five feet before having to stop. And then go back down? He swallowed. Going back down would mean looking down and he didn't think that would be such a good idea.

Why do I have to do this again? He shifted, grabbing onto the tree trunk and moving to his knees. Something about facing my fears... as if I haven't been doing that this whole time. Four years with Jim. Many fears faced during that time... and new ones gained. Falling elevators. Psychos and serial killers. Lash. Alex. Drowning. He shivered. Just cut it out, Sandburg, and focus. Reaching up, he grabbed the next tree branch, quickly hoisting himself up.

A low growl froze him in place, his legs hanging and his arms wrapped in a vice grip around the tree branch in a panicked embrace. No. No. No. Not now. I was supposed to do this so you would go away. The snarl sounded as though it were coming from above him, but he eyes refused to move from the point fixed right in front of him. He couldn't look up. Couldn't move.

The beast came to him. The branch shook with the weight of the animal as it dropped into his view. Flaming golden eyes peered at him, as angry and menacing as the snarl that tugged at the creature's lips.

Oh God. Blair closed his eyes tight. Not real. Not real. Not real. He repeated the mantra silently even as he felt the wolf's warm breath on his face. Not real. Not real. Not real. He felt a tug on his shoulder as though the wolf had grabbed hold of his shirt and was now trying to pry him off of the branch. Quickly, he tightened his grip. Not real. Not real. Not real. Not real things didn't touch you, though, did they?

Oh God, Jim, please get me down from here.

A stomach-twisting crackle sounded and Blair stopped breathing, but the wolf kept pulling at him. Oh no... The branch snapped and his eyes shot open as he went into free fall. The scream in his throat barely escaped before he slammed into a lower branch. His arms flailed wildly, trying to grab hold of something, but he slipped off and continued to plummet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh God, no. No, Goddamnit. Jim tensed as the branch gave way and his partner fell. All he could do was watch from the ground. Blair hit a lower branch, his scream abruptly cut off with the impact. He bounced off and continued to fall. Please... Jim prayed silently. Blair impacted another branch, and this time he managed to grab hold of the thing to stop his fall. One leg was wrapped around the branch while the other hung limply below. His arms were wrapped around the extension, but his body hung half-off and he looked in danger of losing his grip.

"Blair!" Jim yelled. "Just hold on, buddy. I'm coming up." He gestured for Emprado to give him a boost, but the shaman never got a chance. Blair released a surprised scream and lost his grip again, continuing his fall. He hit a few more branches on his way down, each slowing his descent.

Jim acted without thinking, positioning himself just under Blair. The impact slammed him into the ground, rattling his jaw and sending a spike of pain through his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ouch. The dull pounding in his head pulled him to consciousness. He opened his eyes, squinting against the light, and a fuzzy red face came into view.

"How do you feel, Sentinel?" Emprado asked in Chopec.

Jim closed his eyes. Like shit, he answered silently. What happ...? It came back to him suddenly and his eyes shot open as he jack-knifed into a sitting position. "Blair!"

The world spun and he groaned, raising a hand to his head against the nausea. He felt a warm slickness on his forehead and, when he pulled his hand back, it was red with blood.

"Your Guide is hurt, but not badly," Emprado said.

Jim blinked, trying to clear the painful buzzing from his head, and looked around. He spotted Blair immediately to his right. The young man lay unconscious on the ground, a nasty gash in his forehead and a collection of cuts on his face. His right arm lay straight between two pieces of wood, and his shirt was unbuttoned to reveal the swell of several approaching bruises.

Jim moved closer to Blair, brushing his fingertips over the younger man's head, chest, and torso. Feeling nothing broken, he turned his attention to the kid's arm next. "Is it broken?" he asked Emprado. It was hard for him to tell with the bindings.

Emprado shrugged. "Not completely through, but I do not know if the bone cracked. It is pretty badly bruised and cut, though."

Jim clenched his jaw and slowly began to unwrap the vine that held the splint on Blair's arm. Then he eased the pieces of wood away and inspected the damage. True to Emprado's word, the arm looked pretty beat up. A long gash lay along the length of Blair's arm, stopping just above his wrist. The palm was scraped, no doubt from when Blair had tried to grab onto various branches to stop his fall. Gently, his fingers brushed over the hand, wrist, and arm. He didn't think anything was broken or fractured, but he was pretty sure Blair wouldn't be using the arm for awhile.

Jim looked back up at Emprado. "Stay here with him. I'm going to run back to the cabin and get the first-aid kit and something to transport him with." His voice was a bit harsher than he intended. He was angry at the shaman for suggesting the foolhardy stunt and even angrier at himself for going along with the idea.

Emprado nodded, calm in the face of Ellison's wrath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brilliant, Ellison. Just brilliant. Jim placed his palm on Blair's forehead, gauging the young man's temperature and, finding it only slightly elevated, pulled the covers up to the kid's neck. Spring him from the hospital and push him into climbing a tree so that he can fall and crack his head open. Brilliant. He glanced resentfully at the door, knowing Emprado was somewhere on the other side.

A moan from the bed pulled his attention back to Sandburg.

"Blair?"

Another moan, then Blair's eyelids lifted to reveal dazed blue eyes. "Oh man. What happened?" Blair's voice was weak, his words slurred.

"You had a pretty bad fall, but managed not to break anything other than a few branches. You're gonna be okay, just try not to move too much."

Blair blinked, focusing on Jim's face. "You okay?"

Jim pulled back slightly in surprise. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine."

Blair's eyelids fluttered closed. "Head..."

"Oh." Jim raised one hand absently to the bandage that covered his forehead. "It's nothing. Just a scratch. My hard skull did a number on the ground, though."

Blair's eyes cracked open a fraction and flicker of something touching his face, but Jim couldn't pin down the emotion.

"Wolf..." Blair whispered before succumbing to sleep.

Jim watched his sleeping partner a moment longer before spinning on his heels and flying out of the room. He spotted Emprado in the center of the small living room, positioned on the floor right in front of the couch. His legs were crossed in front of him, hands on his knees, in a meditative position. His eyes were closed, but his lips moved to give voice to a soft, musical chant.

Anger hurtled Jim forward and he grabbed Emprado's arms, hauling the younger man to his feet and slamming him against the wall. "What were you trying to do? Kill him?" Jim bellowed.

Emprado stared at Jim calmly, his eyes flat. The lack of reaction only fueled Jim's anger and he gave the man a brief shake, pushing him harder against the wall. "Answer me! Your stupid idea nearly got him killed. What have you been smoking that you thought sending an ill man up a tree was such a bright idea?"

Emprado took a deep breath, then raised his arms and pushed Ellison away from him, exhibiting surprising strength for his lithe frame. "That worth attaining does not come without risk," the shaman said. "I am sorry that your Guide was hurt, but he will heal. His soul, however, needs tending to."

With a disgusted sigh, Jim released the man. "No more. You've had your chance and it didn't work."

Emprado raised his eyebrows. "That is not your decision to make, Sentinel."

Jim clenched his jaw, taking a step away from the man because what he really wanted to do was wrap his hands around Emprado's neck. "It is my decision, and it's final. End of discussion."

"'For you maybe," Emprado retorted.

Jim took a deep breath. The shaman just didn't know when to quite. Didn't Emprado have any sense of self-preservation?

"Drop it, Emprado," Jim growled.

The shaman's mask finally cracked and anger flashed in his dark eyes. "Do you know everything, Sentinel?" he snapped. "Do you hold the keys to this world and the next? When the black wolf comes for him, will you be able to fight that which you cannot see? Are you all powerful?"

He waited for Jim's answer, but the Sentinel merely glared at him.

"You are not his master," Emprado said. "He is a shaman. Your Guide. Your friend. He has given his life for you as you have for him. I did not travel here to turn back so soon. If you respect your Guide and the legacy of Incacha, you will stop fighting me and acknowledge that which you know to be true."

Against his will, Jim found his anger dissipating. Pulling in the big guns, aren't you, Emprado? Of course I respect Blair... and Incacha... He swallowed, glancing away from the shaman's piercing gaze. "What am I supposed to know to be true?"

"That the spirit world exists, woven through the reality that we see but hidden to most eyes. As a Sentinel, you have glimpsed it. As a shaman, Blair is being pulled between both. He can make a choice. He can turn his back on Incacha's legacy and reject the spirit world or he can embrace it and walk the path of a Shaman. Either way, he remains who he is. We must help him understand that."

"Are you saying that part of Blair's fear is that he's going to be changed by all this?" Jim asked.

"We are all changed everyday. Knowledge and experience change us, but we remain who we are."

Jim rubbed his temples. "So Blair will be changed?" he inquired.

Emprado sighed, a small smile touching his lips. "When you read a book, Sentinel, do you become a different person afterwards?"

"No."

"But are you changed by the book?"

"Well... I guess. In a way, depending on the book."

"Blair is a student, his life is learning new things. Have his studies changed who he is?"

"No," Jim answered, flinching only slightly at Emprado's reference to Blair's former life in academia. Emprado spoke in the present tense, which somehow gave the words greater impact, reminding Jim of just what Blair had sacrificed.

"There you have your answer, Sentinel," Emprado said. "To be a shaman is simply to acquire new knowledge, but it is knowledge that must be put to use. It does not change the person's heart, but it does change him -- as experience changes us all."

Jim pursed his lips, studying Emprado. "Okay, I think I understand."

Emprado smiled. "Good. Now we must help Blair understand as well... and we must help him fight his demons."

~~~~~~~~~~

Jim pressed the END button on his cell phone, a satisfied smile playing at his lips. He'd made a few calls and managed to get Dr. Onrubia's number. It wasn't too hard. He'd started with the one Canadian University close to the border where Blair had been found.

He dialed the professor's number and, on the second ring, a tired voice answered. "Doctor Onrubia, Department of Social Sciences."

"Doctor Onrubia," Jim began tersely, "my name is Detective James Ellison with the Cascade PD in Washington. I'm investigating an incident --"

"How is Blair?" the man inquired quickly.

Jim's hand tightened around the phone. "He's recovering. Can you tell me what happened?" He kept his voice carefully neutral.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Detective. Blair has spoken very highly of you and I know that you and he are close friends. He, uh, came to my office inquiring about certain shaman practices. I didn't know that he was studying to be a shaman. I was a bit surprised because anthropologists are supposed to maintain a certain level of detachment. At any rate, he sought my help with certain rituals. He wanted to get details and listen to some of my experiences with various tribes. He's had his own field experiences, mind you, but between the two of us we filled in the other's gaps. Anyway, at first I refused, telling him I'd be glad to share my knowledge but that I didn't feel comfortable helping him through the exercises. He persisted and, well, he can be damn persuasive. Besides, he'd done me a favor a while back and I owed him. I guided him through some of the rituals that I had observed. We went over some of the "recipes" and I made a tea that was mixed with various herbs and other elements used in shamanistic rituals. There were traces of peyote and an extract of Morning Glory Seeds. Mild hallucinogens. Some of the things that are illegal in your country are legal here, Detective. I won't say much more about that. Anyway, the mixture should have had only a very mild affect on Blair, but he had a very bad reaction. He became violent. I tried to subdue him, but he knocked me down and ran out. I hit my head on the edge of my desk, knocked myself out good and, when I came to, he was long gone."

"And why didn't you call and report this?" Jim asked tightly.

"I did. I reported it to the Canadian authorities," Dr. Onrubia said.

"You didn't bother to call his home number? Didn't you think someone might be worried about him? Or what about --?"

"I didn't know his home number, only his office number. I didn't know very much about what he was working on because he wouldn't tell me. He only referred to you as Jim, so I didn't even know that his roommate was a police officer at the time. When you identified yourself a few minutes ago as 'James Ellison' I figured you had to be 'Jim.' I'm so sorry --"

"Sorry? You're sorry? Your concoction nearly got him killed?! Did you tell the Canadian authorities that?"

"I didn't mean --"

"I'll be in touch with you later, Dr. Onrubia, and the Canadian authorities. You can count on it." He snapped the phone closed, ending the call because he knew that if he said anything more his mouth would get away from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain. It was the very first sensation of which he became aware. His head hurt, his arm hurt, his right shoulder hurt, and his back hurt. Basically, he hurt. The pain gave rise to a small groan, and that self-made sound pulled him further toward consciousness.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty," a familiar voice intruded a bit too loudly, sending spikes of pain into his skull. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Can you go away and let me die? Blair retorted silently. Dying sounded good. Living wasn't going so well thus far.

"Come on, Chief, open."

Reluctantly, Blair complied. Fortunately, the room was lit dimly, comfortable for his eyes. He saw Jim's smiling face leaning over him and managed a small smile of his own, even though he felt like a piece of crap that had been stomped into the ground.

"Soup," Jim announced, raising a mug to Blair's field of view. "You need to get some nutritious liquid inside you."

I need to not be falling out of trees, Blair replied mentally. He was in a shitty mood. He would be in a shitty mood for quite some time if the pounding in his head was any indication.

"Aspirin," he croaked. The whole damn bottle, please.

"Coming right up, Chief."

Jim disappeared from view. The sound of retreating footsteps drummed toward the door, then the hinges creaked and Jim was gone. The moment the door clicked closed, Blair's nightmare returned. A low growl to his left sent a cold chill running through his body.

Oh man, won't this ever stop? Go away. Just go away. The growl turned into a snarl and Blair stopped breathing. Mustering all his courage, he turned his head slowly toward the source, his heart beating wildly in his chest. The black beast stood a few feet away, its lips pulled back to reveal large teeth.

Come back. Oh God, Jim, please come back.

Footsteps hurried toward the room, and the door swung inward.

"What's wrong, Chief? Your heart's going like crazy. You okay?" Jim scanned the room even as he spoke, then, when satisfied there was no threat, settled his gaze on Sandburg.

Blair gasped, remembering to breathe. The wolf was gone. Jim was there. "Please, don't leave, man. The wolf..."

A shadow of anger darkened the Sentinel's face. "It's back? You saw it again?"

Blair swallowed. "Yeah, I --"

"Damnit, Sandburg, can't I leave for five minutes without you throwing a hissy fit?" Jim barked.

Blair was stunned into silence. He clamped his jaw shut and looked away. Sorry...

"You okay, buddy?" Jim inquired, his tone suddenly gentle.

Huh? Blair looked back at Jim, noting the genuine concern in his eyes. The anger that had touched his face earlier was now gone.

"I --" Blair furrowed his brow. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"What was all that about?" Jim sat on the edge of the mattress and placed a reassuring hand on Blair's arm.

"I don't know, Jim," he said, genuinely confused. Was he hearing and seeing things, or had Jim not just jumped down his throat two seconds before. "The wolf. Didn't you hear what I said? It came back. Right when you left."

Jim gave Blair's arm a gentle squeeze. "Then I won't leave, Chief. Okay? I'll have Emprado bring you some soup and aspirin."

Blair relaxed against the mattress, soothed by the sincerity in his friend's voice. "Thanks, Jim." He offered a weak smile.

"No problem," Jim grinned. "It's not like I haven't held your hand and wiped your nose before."

Blair tensed, his smile fading. He looked at Jim -- really looked at him. The eyes that stared back at held a subtle quality of disgust.

Am I losing my mind? What's going on here? Fear turned him cold, and he shifted away from Jim, slinking off the mattress and ignoring the various pains in his body that protested the movement.

"What? Where are you going, Blair?"

Blair swallowed. "What's going on with you, man?"

Jim's brow creased and he rose to his feet. "What are you talking about, Chief? Nothing. I'm fine." He smiled, his eyes suddenly kind. "Are you okay? Your heart's started running another marathon, partner. Why don't you come lay back down and I'll have that soup for you in no time?"

Blair shook his head. "One minute you're being nice and the next minute you turn into Mr. Hyde."

Jim looked genuinely surprised. "I... Blair, look, you had a pretty bad fall." He gestured to Blair's arm, now bandaged. "You banged up your arm pretty bad and hit your head more than once on your way down."

"I didn't just imagine it." Did I?

Jim took a step back. "What do you think I said, Chief?"

"You said you were tired of me throwing a hissy fit every time you left and that you'd wiped my nose and held my hand too many times before."

Jim raised his eyebrows, his jaw slack. "I never said those things."

"You did," Blair replied, squaring his shoulders, his gaze steady. "I heard you." I thought I heard you. Am I really going crazy?

Jim clenched his jaw. "Blair, you imagined it. Just like you imagined the wolf. Just like you imagined the Golden Fire People. Come on, Sandburg, think about it and you'll see that it's the truth."

Blair studied Jim for several seconds, letting the words sink in. Finally, his shoulders sagged. He's right. This is all in my head. All he's trying to do is help me and I keep lashing out at him.

"Come on, Chief. Back to bed. Once you get some food in your stomach, I'm sure you'll feel a lot better."

Blair managed a small smile. "You're right, Jim. I'm sorry. It's just --"

Jim raised his hand to stop Blair. "No apologies needed, Sandburg. I understand."

"Thanks, Jim."

Jim smiled sweetly. "No problem. I'm used to your sniveling by now."

Blair's smile dropped and he looked away quickly. Stop it! Just stop it! He told himself as though he could will the hallucinations away.

"Blair?"

"Okay, Jim." Without raising his gaze, he walked back to the bed and slid obediently under the covers. He felt about five years old, and his cheeks stung with embarrassment. I really am a burden... A sniveling, whining, KID who's always getting into trouble. Jim's always pulling my ass out of the fire when I do stupid things. Just like now. So I'll just shut up and stop making things worse.

"Good boy. Now maybe I can housebreak you and teach you not to jump every table leg you see," Jim said.

Blair's face grew hot and he kept his eyes focused on a piece of lint on the blanket.

Jim patted Blair on the knee and moved to the door. "I'm not leaving, Chief," he said  "I'm just going to call out into the living room and have Emprado bring you some soup and aspirin. Okay?"

Blair nodded, never raising his eyes. He heard Jim yell something in Chopec, and Emprado replied, his voice distant in the kitchen. Jim closed the door and moved back to the bed.

"You'll tell me if it happens again. Right?" Jim asked. "If you hear me say something odd, let me know."

Yeah, right. "Sure," Blair replied mechanically. Not on your life. It's just way too humiliating.

"Hey, Chief." Jim took Blair's chin in his hand and forced his head up. "I mean it. I'm here for you, buddy, and I'd like to know what's going on with you."

Blair pulled his head back, but softened the gesture with a tiny smile. "I wish I knew what was going on with me, Jim." He heard the ding of the microwave and glanced at the closed door, his smile turning into a grin. "He knows how to use the microwave?"

Jim nodded, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "He's turning into a regular Martha Stewart."

The door opened and Emprado stepped in carrying a bowl of steaming soup and a bottle of aspirin. "Aquil densade."

"Grashian," Jim answered, rising from the bed and taking the items from the Shaman.

With a nod, Emprado turned around and left the two men alone. Jim closed the door with his foot and carried the soup and aspirin to the table near Blair's bed, setting them down gently. "Two or three aspirin?"

"Three," Blair answered quickly. The headache was more like a five-aspirin event, but Blair knew that was out of the question.

Jim unsnapped the bottle and shook three pills into the palm of his hand. Then he lifted the bowl and gave the pills to Blair, who quickly popped them in his mouth. The detective gave the soup a brief stir with the spoon then raised the spoonful to Blair's mouth.

"I've been capable of feeding myself for quite some time, Jim," Blair quipped, reaching for the spoon.

"Yeah, but you haven't seemed too capable of much else," Jim muttered.

Blair almost choked on the dry pills. They turned chalky and bitter in his mouth, and he swallowed them quickly, wincing at the taste.

"What?" Blair croaked.

"Huh?"

"What did you just say, Jim?"

"Nothing." The Sentinel shook his head, eyeing Blair skeptically. "What do you think I just said?"

Blair looked back down at the spoon held in Jim's hand. "Nothing... Uh, I can feed myself, Jim," he hazarded a second time.

"Oh? You mean you're not gonna let me make airplane noises?"

Blair smiled, actually chuckling, even though he was still shaking inside from the apparent Jekyll-and-Hyde act that seemed to be going on right in front of him.

"Knock yourself out, Jim, but you can do it without the spoon." He mustered a wider grin and carefully extricated the utensil out of the Sentinel's grasp.

The spoon was suddenly ripped from Blair's hands, spilling scalding soup onto his shirt. The liquid soaked quickly through his thin shirt and he let out a yelp of surprise, grabbing the material in one fist and holding the hot cotton away from his skin.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do you spineless, pissant, reject!" Jim barked, waving the spoon angrily in front of Sandburg's face.

Blair flinched away, but found his own anger and frustration rising. He knocked the spoon out of Jim's hand, but self-preservation kicked in and he found himself scrambling off the mattress to put some distance between himself and the angry Sentinel. Then a wave of dizziness threatened to send him to the floor and he realized he probably shouldn't have gotten up that fast, especially since the motion seemed to have angered the throbbing in his head. He made a largely unsuccessful effort at pushing the pain back and met Jim's gaze.

"What's your problem?" Blair asked. "Why are you suddenly such a bastard?"

Jim's eyes blazed and he walked over the bed, crumpling the covers. Stepping down off the mattress, he backed Blair into the wall. "I'm not the bastard here, Sandburg. I wasn't the one spawned from some whore and her drugged-out, hippie boyfriend."

Blair felt like a fist had just rammed right into his gut. His chest tightened and he found it hard to breathe. Jim's hateful words had him reeling. Was this really happening? Was he dreaming or hallucinating?

"Jim..." The soft plea escaped from his throat before he gave conscious thought to it and he found himself pinned by Jim's steal gaze.

"What?" Ellison spat.

Blair placed his good palm flat on the Sentinel's chest. "You don't mean --" His words were cut off by a yell when Jim grabbed his hand, twisting the wrist painfully.

"I always mean what I say, Sandburg," Jim growled, his faces inches from Blair's.

"Jim, please..." Blair tried to extricate himself from the detective's hold, but Jim had his wrist firmly immobilized at an agonizing angle.  The pain sent him to his knees and brought tears to his eyes.

"Choya!" came the deep command.

Jim released his hold and Blair fell backward against the wall, his wrist cradled protectively against his chest. Emprado stood in the center of the room, his spear held firmly in front of him and his dark eyes hard.  He raised both arms and the tip of the spear touched the ceiling.

"Choya koon ta de cruz!" the shaman roared.

Blair watched in horror as Jim's body went rigid, his eyes wide and glassy. He heard a roar in the distance, echoed by another. Then the Sentinel's body spasmed and he fell to the ground. A black mass emerged from the fallen man, taking shape as the wolf, its yellow eyes glowing maliciously. It trapped Blair with its gaze, snarling a threat.

"Parah!" Emprado commanded, slamming the end of his spear into the floor.

The wolf cast an annoyed glance at the Chopec shaman, then vanished -- literally into "thin air."

Emprado hurried forward and crouched next to Jim, his eyes flickering back and forth between Blair and the Sentinel.

"Entu bengada?" Emprado asked.

Blair knew only a little Chopec, but he thought he understood the question.

"I'm okay," he answered, still cradling his throbbing wrist. He didn't think the bone had broken, but it hurt like hell.

Jim groaned and Blair forgot about the pain in his wrist as he leaned forward. "Jim?" He scooted over to his friend, concerned by the pallor of the Sentinel's face and the beads of sweat dotting his forehead.

What just happened? Blair wondered silently. If his eyes hadn't betrayed him, he'd actually seen the black wolf leave Jim's body. Was this a case of possession?

Jim released another moan and his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked, his eyes lined with pain, and made an attempt to focus on Blair, but it was obvious that his pupils were dilated and, from the way he squinted, apparent that the light was causing him pain.

Blair placed his bandaged hand on Jim's arm, still cradling the wrist that Jim had twisted. "Easy, Jim, close your eyes." He was pleased when Jim immediately complied. "That's it. Now, focus on the dial for your eyes. There's a light dial. Picture it in your head. Now, turn in down. As you lower it, your pupil's constrict... You got it? Is it low?"

"Yeah," Jim gasped.

Blair studied the Sentinel, hoping he was back to normal and praying that nothing Jim had said had come from within his psyche. What if Jim had actually meant some of the things he'd said... even if only deep down inside?

Jim still looked pale and shaky, even laying on the ground with his eyes closed. Hesitantly, he lifted his eyelids and looked at Sandburg. His expression changed from momentary relief to shame and then guilt all in the span of a few seconds. His gaze dropped to the wrist Blair held against his chest.

"I'm sorry, Chief."

Blair ducked his head a fraction, glancing at the floor. "It's okay, Jim... Are you okay?"

Jim struggled to sit up, and Emprado placed a helping arm under his shoulders. Jim flashed a brief, tiny smile at the Chopec shaman for his help, then looked back at Sandburg. Blair swallowed hard, knowing from Jim's apology and the misery in his eyes that the Sentinel remembered most, if not all, of what had happened just a few minutes earlier.

Gently, Jim reached out and wrapped his fingers around Blair's wrist. "Can I see?"

Blair relaxed his arm, allowing Jim to pull it straight so he could feel the wrist with his fingers. Most of the pain had subsided, but there was a tender point on the inside of the wrist and Blair winced when Jim's fingers probed the sensitive area.

"Sorry," Jim mumbled, his tone as pained as Blair had ever heard. Jim looked back up at Blair, his eyes bloodshot and his cheeks still way too pale. "I'm sorry," he said again, more firmly this time, and Blair knew Jim was talking about more than just hitting the sore spot on the wrist.

Blair's throat tightened and he couldn't seem to find his voice, so he nodded instead.

Emprado said something in Chopec and Blair raised his gaze to the shaman. The older man looked concern, his eyes dark with an emotion that chilled Blair to the bone: fear. If Emprado was afraid, that couldn't be a good sign.

"What did he say, Jim?"

It was a moment before the Sentinel answered. "He said... uh.... oh man," Jim closed his eyes and raised one hand to massage his temple.

"Easy, Jim," Blair soothed, pulling his injured wrist back to his chest and using his bandaged hand to feel Jim's temperature, pressing his fingers against the detective's forehead. "Let's get you to bed."

"No." Jim shook his head and opened his eyes. "No, I'll be okay. Just feel like I got the wind knocked out of me, that's all. And, well, my head feels like there's a guy with a jackhammer inside my skull." He flashed a quick, lopsided grin. "I'll be okay, though." He glanced at Emprado, then back at Blair. "He said that the dark wolf is growing stronger. It threatens both Sentinel and Guide."

Blair suddenly felt light-headed and the room threatened to spin. He sat back on his haunches, an icy knot forming in his stomach. Oh God, this is bad. He still wasn't really sure what was going on, but before he'd thought his failure would bare directly on him. If he couldn't cut it, then he wouldn't be a shaman. Or worse, he supposed. Maybe he'd lose himself to the dark wolf. His soul? His identity? He really didn't know, but he'd never imagined that Jim could be in danger if he failed. That scared the hell out of him because he was pretty damn sure that he wasn't strong enough to fight this thing -- whatever it was.

"Hey."

Blair blinked, flinching a fraction. Jim was somehow right there in front of him, sitting up, his face inches from his own and his blue eyes lined with concern.

"We'll figure this out, Chief. You gonna be okay?"

I don't think so, Jim, he wanted to say. Instead, he just shrugged one shoulder, still not trusting his voice.

Hesitantly, as though he were unsure how the gesture would be received, Jim placed his hand on Blair's shoulder. "I won't let it happen again, Chief," he whispered.

This time Blair did find his voice and he tried to force a measure of calm into it. "You didn't let it happen, Jim. It wasn't your fault... How, uh... How much do you remember?"

"All of it. It was like I was watching myself from outside my body. My mouth was going all on its own... I... You gotta know I didn't mean any of it, Sandburg."

Blair managed a weak smile. "I know, Jim."

Looking into the Sentinel's eyes, he began to feel the self-doubt that had plagued him earlier dissipate. In its place rose determination. Jim depended on him and Blair would be damned if he'd let the Sentinel down. He'd taken on a duty willingly years ago to help, guide, and protect Jim, even giving his own life in the process. Time to get with the program, Sandburg, he admonished himself. Jim's depending on you to get your act straight and deal with this thing. So do it.

Blair looked up into Emprado's dark gaze. It was odd, he realized, just how similar to Incacha's those eyes looked. He suddenly felt guilty for giving the Chopec shaman such a hard time. Kinda like the way Jim grumbles about the stuff I ask him to do. Now I know how he feels. Uncertain. Afraid of failing. Afraid...

But not anymore. He'd pushed Jim under a garbage truck the first day he'd met the detective. A garbage truck, for crying out loud. Nearly became one with the pavement. He'd faced psychos and drug dealers and flying bullets all for this one man sitting half-dazed on the floor, so one little spirit-wolf-whatever from the astral plane wasn't going to do him in. And he'd throw himself off a cliff before he let his own inadequacies do his friend harm. Jim had always been there for him. Okay, except for that time at the fountain but even then he'd shown up in time. Saved my life... again. Though Blair would never forget the feeling of hitting the water and believing that Jim wasn't coming this time. Instead of his life flashing before his eyes, the last three years flashed before him, with the final words spoken between him and the Sentinel playing through his head. Those had not been good words. Naomi had always told him to "detach with love" and now, God help him, he knew why. It wasn't the kind of knowledge most people carried with them -- that academic knowledge that the future was uncertain and death could meet them tomorrow. Sure, most people were aware of the specter of death, but they didn't really believe it would catch up with them in the next moment. Blair hadn't believed it either until Alex had pointed the gun at him. Talk about an epiphany. Life and friendship are really too precious to waste in anger.

And if Alex couldn't do him in, neither would his own pathetic psyche. The wolf was not going to win. No way.

He held Emprado's gaze a moment longer, then asked, "What do I have to do?"

Fortunately, the Chopec seemed to understand the question, or at least the tone in Blair's voice and the resolve in his eyes, because a smile graced his lips and he nodded approvingly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me and my big mouth, Sandburg lamented silently, scrunched up against the window of the Ford truck. When he'd asked what he needed to do, he never anticipated where that question would lead. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Cut it out, Sandburg. Whatever it takes. This is nothing. You got off easy. No cliffs to stand on or coals to walk over. Really, this'll be easy.

"You okay, Chief?"

Blair opened his eyes and looked over the shaman seated next to him to see Jim glancing at him, shifting his attention between Blair and the road.

"Yeah, fine," he lied.

"You're heart's --"

"Going a mile a minute, I know. How 'bout a little privacy here?" His tone was harsher than he intended, so he clamped his jaw shut before his mouth got any further away from him.

"Sorry," Jim muttered, sparing Blair another glance. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me, you know."

Blair forced a tiny smile. "Thanks."

"You didn't have to go to Doctor Onrubia, Sandburg. I would have --"

"What?" Blair's question was deadly-soft.

Jim swallowed. Damn. Nice slip-up, Detective, he admonished himself. If he wasn't so damn tired, he never would have messed up like that. Now he had some explaining to do if Blair's tone was any indication.

"Uh, well, I just meant that --"

"How did you find out about Doctor Onrubia?" Blair asked flatly. "I vaguely remember telling you to leave it alone -- that I didn't want to give you his name because he did nothing wrong."

"You, uh, mentioned it in your sleep."

There was a moment of silence, then Blair said, "You're lying."

The shear calmness of the statement startled Jim and he looked over quickly at Blair, seeing a pair of blazing blue eyes staring at him.

"Chief, I --"

Damn you, Jim! "You pried it out of me when I wasn't quite myself. Didn't you?" You fucking interrogated me when I was vulnerable.

Jim looked at the road quickly, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I just wanted to know what really happened to you."

Blair took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger that churned in his chest. "You interrogated me when I was out of it. I was vulnerable and you jumped on that, didn't you? I trusted you, depended on you, and you took advantage of an opportunity to gain information you wanted."

"No, Sandburg, I didn't do it like that. I mean, you started talking about going to Canada and I just asked who you were visiting."

"Fuck you, Jim," Blair whispered, venom in his voice. He turned his gaze back to the window, crossing his arms over his chest and pressing his shoulder a bit harder into the door -- moving just a fraction farther away from Jim. "I swear, Jim, if you ever do that again..." His voice trailed off. He knew he was speaking out of anger and didn't want to end up saying something he'd regret later.

"Chief, I --"

"Don't do it again," Blair stated finally, his tone final.

After a brief pause, Jim sighed. "I won't. I'm sorry, Sandburg."

Blair nodded tersely. "Did you talk to him?"

"Briefly."

"On the phone?"

"Yes. I just asked him what happened."

"Were you civil?"

"Uh... For the most part. I might have lost my tempter toward the end of the conversation."

Blair threw an angry glance back at Jim. "Perfect."

"Blair, listen --"

"Drop it, Jim," he retorted quickly. He knew he couldn't discuss it any further with the Sentinel. He was way too angry to speak rationally... and hurt. So damn hurt that Jim would take advantage of his weakness. I'm supposed to be your friend, Jim, not a suspect you feel compelled to pry information out of.

"If that's what you want," Jim said, turning his attention fully back to the road. "I just wanted to know if you were okay, here. That's all. I mean now, Chief. Do you want to do this? The fountain --"

"I'm fine," Blair snapped.

"Okay." Jim clamped his jaw shut, focusing on the road ahead.

Damn. Blair looked out the window, his vision blurring against the smeared backdrop of the scenery as the truck sped down the highway. I'm sorry, Jim. I'm still mad at you, but I'm sorry. This just isn't something I really want to talk about anymore. At one time I did, but you weren't ready. Now, all I want to do is forget it. Only I can't and I don't think I ever will. So maybe this is why I need to do this. Get past it.

And how the hell did Emprado find out about it, anyway? The only way Sandburg could figure was that Jim had told the shaman, which begged the question of what else the Sentinel had told Emprado.

An hour later, they arrived at their destination. The day was faint, the sun barely over the horizon. Early morning... just like it had been that day. Only this time it was spring break and the campus was even more deserted. Even if it hadn't been summer, it was Sunday and very few people would be on the campus.

The campus. That was a place he didn't belong anymore. Wasn't welcome. So maybe he was facing two things instead of just the One.

The Big One. His eyes went immediately to the fountain. No big deal. He'd passed it several times on his way to the office after the "incident." It looked no different now than it had any other day.

"I cleared this with the chief of security," Jim said. "We won't be disturbed."

"What did you tell her?" Blair asked, his gaze still focused on the fountain.

"Just that I needed a favor. She got the drift. No questions."

"This is gonna look really strange if anyone sees us."

"No one's around."

"If you say so."

"You ready?"

"You know what all we're supposed to do?"

"Emprado gave me the full low-down, Chief. I got it."

"Okay." He took another deep breath. "I'm ready."

"You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do, Jim."

With no further comment, the two men opened their doors and stepped out of the truck. Emprado slid out of Blair's side and closed the door, following the two men to the fountain.

"We can't get into the building, so we'll start from the steps, Sandburg." Jim's voice shook ever-so slightly, but he continued on as though it were steady as a rock. "I'll be Alex."

"Okay." Blair swallowed. He was beginning to feel sick to his stomach. His insides were shaking and his knees threatened to buckle. And we haven't even really started yet.

He followed Jim up the stairs and, when they reached the doors, Jim turned around to face him. "Walk me through this, Chief. I wasn't there." His voice wavered slightly with that remark, but he continued. "What happened?"

I am calm. I am relaxed. This is nothing. I can do this. Blair indulged in one more deep breath before answering. "Okay, um, well... Alex had the gun pointed at my back." He turned around, his back to Jim, and began to walk slowly down the stairs. Jim followed.

"Was the barrel touching you?"

"No."

"What happened? Step-by-step. What did she say? What did you say? How were you feeling?"

Blair almost laughed. How was I feeling? Good one, Jim. How the hell do you think --

No. He pushed the anger back. Focus. Just focus. This is not happening. It's just a memory. It can't hurt you.

When he answered, he was pleased to find his voice relatively steady. "She thanked me again for helping her. Said she was sorry it had to end this way. I told her she wouldn't be able to control her senses alone. She said she wasn't alone. Then she told me to shut up. I think I said something like, 'Or, what? You'll shoot me?' I --"

Emprado interrupted, giving instructions to Jim but otherwise keeping his distance near the fountain.

"He wants you to say how you were feeling. What you were thinking," Jim translated.

"What was I thinking? Feeling?" This time his voice did tremble. These were things he'd never told Jim. Things he wasn't exactly comfortable telling Jim because he didn't know how the Sentinel would handle them. "Uh, I was afraid," he said, bitter and sarcastic. "I didn't want to die. You know, all that kind of stuff, Jim. Standard freaking out protocol."

"Beyond that," Jim prodded smoothly.

Blair suppressed a sigh, stopping just in front of the fountain. "Okay. Sorry." No anger. Be calm. Just be calm. "I... Well, I was thinking about you. Us. Our three years together. Our partnership. I was wishing I could tell you that I was sorry for helping Alex. That I didn't mean to betray your trust and I wish you'd forgive me and..." tears sprung in his eyes and he blinked, spilling them onto his cheeks, "... and I wished I had said something more to you in the bullpen because I hated thinking that our last words to one another had been those words. I also wondered if you were okay. If maybe Alex had visited you before me and, if she did, and she were now here with me, that meant that you were probably dead." His voice quivered, the tears flowing more freely now. "I didn't... God, I thought maybe I had screwed up so badly and gotten you killed. I had to know, so I asked her. I asked her 'What about Jim? He'll come after you and he'll win.' I wanted to hear her say 'I'll be long gone' or 'We'll see.' God, I was so scared she'd say something like 'I already took care of him.' I almost wished I hadn't asked the question after all. That knowing would be worse than not knowing."

"And what did she say?" Jim prodded, but his voice sounded odd. Blair resisted the temptation to look back at the Sentinel, to verify that Jim really was still behind him because the voice sounded so different, almost completely unlike Jim.

"She, uh, said she'd be long gone and that she would destroy you by killing me.... I... I was so relieved, Jim, I forgot for a moment that I was about to die."

"And then what happened? What were your very next feelings?"

Feelings? Blair closed his eyes, picturing that day. He had been standing right here by the fountain just like he was now, Alex right behind him. What he'd felt next was...

"Pain. She hit me over the head and pushed me forward into the w --"

His explanation was cut short by a sharp push from behind and his face hit the water first, so hard it actually hurt. In his surprise, he screamed, sucking in a mouthful of water. Half of it went down the wrong pipe and he choked, flailing his arms as he hit the hard bottom. He flashed back to that moment when Alex had pushed him under. The fear rose again in his gut just like it had that day, sending his heart into overdrive. Quickly, he got his arms beneath him and pushed himself up, pain shooting through both of his injured wrists. He emerged from the water gasping, the tears masked by the fountain water drenching him.

"What...?" He coughed, unable to complete the question. What the hell, Jim?

Jim stood stoically in front of him, his face a mask. "Were you conscious when you hit the water?"

Blair coughed up half a mouthful of water, still gasping. The taste of chlorine made him sick, reminding him again of that day.

"Were you?" Jim prodded.

"I was conscious," Blair gasped, "but dazed. I couldn't get myself out of the fountain. I... I think she was holding me down."

"What were you thinking? Feeling?"

Blair was shivering, the cold of the fountain water beginning to register and making his teeth chatter. He tried to get to his feet, but Jim's hand shot out, pressing down on Blair's shoulder and holding him in place.

"Jim --" Blair looked at Emprado, unsure what exactly was going on.

"What were you thinking and feeling?" Jim asked again.

This time Blair couldn't control the anger as it rose, and he pushed Jim backward, shooting to his feet. "Back off, man. Just get the hell away from me!"

"What were you feeling?" Jim asked, calm, his voice softer this time.

"What the hell do you think I was feeling?! I was dying, Jim. It wasn't exactly pleasant," Blair yelled, his voice disrupting the morning serenity of the campus.

"What were you feeling?" Jim asked again in that maddeningly calm voice.

"Fuck you! You want to know what I was feeling? Fine. I'll tell you." He stepped out of the fountain, his eyes hard and focused on the Sentinel. The anger rose hot in his chest, overriding the terror he had experienced moments before and pushing his heart faster. "I was wondering where the hell you were?! Where were you?! She hadn't killed you, so why weren't you there?" He pushed the Sentinel back again, hitting the larger man on the chest, no longer feeling any pain in his wrists. Jim stumbled back, but otherwise remained solid. "After all I did for you all you can do is kick me out of the loft and tell me to get the hell out of your life! You think I committed this great big sin. How dare I help anybody but the Great James Ellison! Well, fuck you, Jim! You arrogant, ego-centric, bastard! You betrayed me! All I did was try to help her. I didn't know she was a criminal. You think you own me, or something? That you can just boss me around and push me around and then when you think I've screwed up just dump me like a piece of garbage and leave me to die. Fuck you!"

His anger spun him around, his feet carrying him quickly away, no particular destination in mind -- just away. As far away from everything and everybody as he could possibly get. Psycho Shamans and Psycho Sentinels included. Emprado barked something in Chopec, but Blair didn't even try to understand the words. He didn't care. This had obviously been a colossally bad idea.

A hand wrapped hard around his arm and spun him back around. "Where do you get off?" Jim glared down at him, his voice rough. "Since you've been with me it's been one screw-up after another. First the Church and tipping of Lash. Jesus Christ, why didn't you just shine a spotlight on him and sound the alarm? Stupidity like that is real impressive. Then getting caught by him. What kind of a moron dials a beeper number in an emergency? Your brain goes out the window when it counts, Sandburg. And --"

Blair's eyes were wide with horror and he jerked away from Jim. "Go to hell," he whispered, his throat too tight to give rise to the scream that bubbled in his chest.

Jim grabbed Blair's jacket, the material bunched firm in his fists. "And what about your other string of screw-up? The Golden. An entire police station and you were the one to fall for the Trojan Horse. You could have killed someone!"

"I didn't know!" Blair finally found his voice and screamed at the Sentinel. "I didn't know!"

"No shit," Jim continued. "Shall I go on? Iris? Great judgment there, Romeo. And Janet --"

Blair gasped, trying desperately to pry Jim's hands off his jacket, but the man held him firm. He shook his head, trying to block out the words, his mind screaming at him at the same time. Telling him over and over again that this couldn't be Jim. The wolf was back. It had taken over his friend. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it. He --

" -- Getting a civilian involved like that. You got her killed, Sandburg. You. And then with Chapel in the loft. Jesus, Sandburg! Look up, why don't you?! You gave me away and it nearly got me killed!"

"I didn't mean --"

"--it," Jim finished, mimicking Blair's whine. "I know. You never mean any of your screw-ups. And then you have the gall to whine about it. Alex was just the icing on the cake. You want to know what it comes down to?" He gave Sandburg a hard shake. "You deserved that fountain! You screwed up. You got Janet killed. You nearly got me killed. You're a liability!"

Blair just shook his head, trying to block out the words. "No --" Why was Jim doing this to him? "No. No. No." He pushed at Jim, but the man remained firm. "I gave my life for you, man! I threw away my career! I --"

"Another screw up! You published that thesis and Megan and Simon got shot because of it! You --"

"Get away from me!"

"It's the truth!"

"NO!"

"Say it!"

"Go to hell!"

Jim shook him again. "Say it!"

"No!" Blair's vision was blurred now, his cheeks wet, and he was shaking so badly that he knew he'd crumble to the ground if Jim let go of him. "I tried! I'm not perfect, Jim! I've given all I have, man. What more do you want from me? I can't do any better," he sobbed, his voice disintegrating. "This is all I have. All I have, Jim. Please..."

The hands released him and he fell to the ground, sobbing. He tried to find the anger that had sustained him moments ago, but it was gone, leaving him drained and wasted. He had nothing left. Nothing. He'd given his best and it just hadn't been enough. This is why he was here -- to fail. So Jim could find another Guide. Someone worthy. Someone who knew what the hell he was doing. Someone...

"Blair." A soft voice. A hand on his shoulder. Jim knelt down beside him, but Blair didn't look up. Couldn't look up.

"You saved my life," Jim whispered, the harshness that had plagued his tone earlier now gone.

Blair shook his head. "No..."

"The first day we met," Jim continued. "You pushed me under a garbage truck. The truth is, you've always been there for me. You've tried your best, but you're not perfect. Yes, you made mistakes. We all do, but none of them are anywhere near the mistakes I made. I got you killed, Blair. You're right. I kicked you out of the loft and pushed you away. I got you killed. Then when your thesis was leaked, I blamed you again. Truth is, you've never wavered in your trust and loyalty to me, but I'm the one who's let you down over and over again. And you keep coming back. I couldn't ask for better than that. I don't deserve it."

Blair swallowed, shaking his head. What was this? Why the sudden one-eighty in attitude? First Jim was screaming that it was all Blair's fault and now he seemed intent on taking the blame himself. Was this some kind of sick reverse psychology. A game?

"Forgive me, Blair," came the whisper-soft plea, "and forgive yourself."

That did it, breaking what little control Blair had left, and he fell forward into Jim's arms, crying like a child against the Sentinel's chest. But there was no shame in the display. Only release. Blessed release.

And forgiveness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then there was cold. Bone-numbing, finger-hot cold. Blair sat hunched against the truck's door, huddled in Jim's jacket as they traveled back to the loft. His wet shirt had been discarded, tossed in the back of the truck, but his soaked jeans were cold against his skin, turning him to ice. The heater was going full-blast, but it seemed to do nothing against the cold.

And he was so tired. He felt like a rag that had been twisted, rung, and flung into a heap. Used and discarded. He was so tired his muscles shook, weak. He doubted he'd be able to stand once they reached the loft.

God, it was so damn cold. All he wanted to do was sleep in a nice warm bed. In his bed. Buried under the covers. Dry. Dry, warm, and asleep. That's all he wanted. It wasn't so very much to ask, was it? His eyelids drifted shut, but the cold followed him all the way into his sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim pulled the truck in front of the loft and turned off the engine. He hesitated a moment, not moving to get out. He just needed a moment. He was still shaking inside from the confrontation at the fountain. God. He dropped his head forward against the steering wheel. That had been hard. Pushing Blair into the fountain, ignoring all his instincts that screamed at him to grab the young man and pull him up, take him away from that horrible place and make him feel safe. God knows he's had so little of feeling safe during his time with me.

But Emprado had told him what had to be done. He wouldn't have trusted the man if he hadn't known him... and known that Incacha had thought highly of the young man.

But saying those things to Sandburg had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. Listening to the words Blair had thrown at him: blame, hurt, anger. It had all been painfully clear in the young man's eyes, etched in the lines of his face, thick in his trembling voice.

And it had made Jim feel like a monster. Sick inside. He looked over at Emprado, surprised to see the shaman's black eyes staring at him.

"You showed great courage," the Chopec whispered. "You feel better." It was a statement, not a question.

Jim opened his mouth to protest, but suddenly realized that, yeah, he did feel better. Something had happened back there at the fountain. A cleansing. Forgiveness. Healing. The darkness that had hovered between him and Sandburg for the past four years had been replaced with something else. Light. Peace. Friendship. The friendship that had always been there, but this time it was allowed to exist unencumbered by fear, anger, and self-doubt.

He hoped Sandburg would feel it, too -- once he woke up. He shifted his gaze to the sleeping figure pressed into the corner of the cab. The kid's shivers were visible even to normal eyes and Jim suspected that Blair was on the verge of hypothermia.

"He'll sleep a while," Emprado commented in Chopec, "but when he wakes, he'll feel better than he has in a long time."

Jim smiled, warmed by Emprado's reassurance. "Thank you," he said.

The shaman returned the smile, nodding. "You can repay me by sending me home on one of those flying things. I have always wanted to fly."

Jim laughed -- a warm, bubbling laugh that tingled in his chest. "You got it."

He opened his door and slid out, hurrying over to the passenger side. Carefully, he eased Blair's door open slowly so the young man wouldn't topple out of his seat. He saw that Emprado had a hand pressed against Blair's chest, holding him in place as Jim opened the door.

"Thanks," he told the shaman, flashing an appreciative smile.

Blair seemed oblivious, his breathing and heartbeat slow and steady. He was in as deep a natural sleep as Jim had ever seen him.

"I will help you carry him," Emprado said, sliding after Blair as Jim pulled the young man out of the truck. They each took one of Blair's arms over their shoulders and dragged the young man into the building.

They got him up to the loft with little difficulty and carried him into the lower room. Emprado pulled down the covers while Jim eased Blair onto the mattress. The young man's arms flopped to his side, limp, and he gave no signs of waking. A tinge of concern pulled at Jim's chest, and he looked up at Emprado.

"I don't think he's just asleep," he said. "Are you --"

Emprado raised a hand to silence Jim. "He is in a deep, healing sleep. His body and soul are weary. He needs to get his strength back and --" he gestured to the limp figure, "-- he needs to get in dry clothes."

Damn. Jim turned his attention quickly back to Blair. Of course the kid was still wearing wet jeans and he was still shivering. Jim berated himself for forgetting that and quickly worked the wet jeans and jacket off the younger man. That accomplished, he hung the jeans over the top of the hamper and then pulled the blankets up to Blair's chin.

"Now the Sentinel must rest."

Jim nodded. He was tired. With a final glance at his partner, he headed for the door -- only to find himself stopped by a palm on his chest. Emprado gestured toward Blair and gave Jim a firm push backward.

"You will stay with him until he wakes."

"Why?" Jim furrowed his brow, suddenly concerned. "Is he still in danger from the wolf? I thought --"

"You will not sleep unless you are close to him and, when he wakes, he will need to know that you are close -- especially after the words you exchanged with him. If Sentinel and Shaman are to heal completely, they must do it together."

Jim pursed his lips. Blair's bed was a bit small to sleep two comfortably and, at the moment, Jim was just too tired to contemplate carrying Blair up the stairs to his own room.

"Okay," he sighed. "But --"

"In the tribe Sentinel and Shaman often sleep with their backs touching, each guarding the other and resting only by knowing the other lays safe at his back."

A tiny smile pulled at Jim's lips. He had to admit he liked that image. It spoke of trust and friendship -- the things he felt with Blair now stronger than he ever had before.

Besides, it would be worth a kink in his back to see the look on Blair's face when he woke up in bed with Jim. In fact, just thinking about it brought a smirk to his face.

"Well, if that's how it's done back at the tribe," Jim said dutifully, pulling the covers down and pushing Blair toward the wall. He released a few grunts as he tried to move the dead weight that looked like his friend.

Once he'd gotten Blair as far toward the wall as the kid would go, Jim removed his shoes and pants and slid onto the mattress next to him, frowning slightly as he felt a damp spot on the sheets where Blair's wet jeans had touched. He closed his eyes. He was too tired to deal with it at the moment and it wasn't that uncomfortable, anyway.

He closed his eyes and rolled onto his right side, his back to Blair. He's right. This is nice, Jim thought drowsily as he felt the rhythm of Blair's heartbeat through the mattress and even in the cold arm that touched his back.

Blair was still cold. Jim reached down and pulled the covers up, offering Emprado a tired smile and a wave of dismissal. The shaman smiled in return and retreated from the room. With a contented sigh, Jim buried himself a little deeper under the blankets and gave into the welcome arms of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~

Email NwadC@yahoo.com 

Comments? I'd appreciate hearing from you! I really, really would *grin*