Title: Good Fortune 12
Author: Grey
Fandom: The Sentinel
Pairing: J/B/S
Rating: NC-17
Status: New/Complete
Archive: Yes
Email: Grey853@aol.com
Series/Sequel: The Twelfth in the Good Fortune series.
Date: August 2000
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net/

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Blair has a setback and the Thompson case takes a nasty turn.

Notes: Thanks to XFreak for all her support.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort and multiple pairings.

Good Fortune 12
by Grey
Grey853@aol.com

"Hey, Joel."

Joel Taggart looked up as he stood outside Blair's hospital room, his face tired and worn from too many hours of waiting. "Jim, Captain. Good to see you."

Jim noted the strain in his voice. "What's wrong? Why are you out here?"

"The nurse threw me out while she's cleaning him up. And nothing's wrong, man. Not really."

Simon moved in closer to his detective. "What do you mean not really?"

Uneasy, Joel motioned his head at the door. "Blair had a rough night. He had a couple of nightmares and he's still vomiting if he moves too much. I heard the doctor say something about doing a brain scan this morning."

"Fuck." Jim covered his mouth, his fear welling up into a series of hammer blows inside his chest. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Blair made me promise not to."

"You still should've called." Simon shook his head, his anger forcing the words harder than he intended.

"There was nothing you could've done, Captain, and besides, you know how the kid is. Even in a hospital bed puking his guts out, you can't help but do what he says."

Jim took a deep breath and clenched his jaw as he worked to calm himself. "Can we go in?"

"Nurse should be out in a minute. He's kind of groggy though. They gave him something a little while ago."

As Joel finished speaking, a young nurse came out and smiled. "Good morning, gentlemen. You can go in, but try not to stay too long. He's scheduled to go down for an MRI in just a few minutes."

Jim shifted the clothes bag from his right hand to his left. "I thought he was going home today. Is there something else going on you're not telling us?"

The nurse kept her face and voice neutral, looking at Jim first before glancing at the others. "You'll have to talk to the doctor, Detective. He should be in by eleven to see the results. He'll be able to tell you more by then about whether he thinks Mr. Sandburg is well enough to be discharged. Now, if you'll excuse me."

As she walked away, Jim met Simon's concerned eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he turned to Taggart. "Thanks for staying with him, Joel. Tell Brown and the others we appreciate everyone helping out."

Joel patted him on the back. "No problem, Jim. We can do it again tonight or as long as we need to. Hope it doesn't come to that though. The boy needs to go home, the sooner the better."

"Amen."

Turning to Simon, Taggart added, "Any news on Thompson, sir?"

"None. Look, you go have breakfast. I'll see you at the station later."

"Sure thing."

As soon as Taggart left, Simon spoke quietly. "They're just being safe, Jim."

"I know." His voice fought hard against the choking as he avoided knowing eyes. "Let's go say good morning."

As soon as they entered, Jim knew things weren't good. Drugs dulled the normally bright blue eyes and his pale face needed shaving. Blair waved a weak hand and sighed, "Hey, you made it." The words came out long and slurred. Jim put the bag and an extra package on the chair and stepped to the bed next to Simon. "Hey, Chief. What's going on here? We leave you overnight and you don't look so hot."

"I don't feel so hot, man." Swallowing several times as he blinked to focus, he stared up at Simon. "Hey, you two doing okay?"

"We're fine, Blair. Jim and I have worked out a few things between us." He leaned forward against the rail as he took the younger man's hand, his voice smooth and soothing. "Now all you have to do is get your ass up and out of here."

"I'm trying. They want to do some more tests. I can't seem to get rid of this dizziness."

Jim petted back his hair as he added, "You always were a little dizzy, Chief. What's the big deal?"

"That's what I said." The small laugh brought on a groan as Blair squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, man, I feel sick to my stomach. I can't stop spinning."

Palming his forehead, Jim glanced at Simon, his lover's face reflecting his own fears. Keeping his voice steady, he spoke with a calm that didn't quite reach his own heart. "It's going to be fine, Blair. Sometimes this kind of thing lasts a few days with a concussion. It'll go away."

Opening his eyes, Blair looked up. "You've had this before?"

"No, but in Peru one of the men got hit like this. It took him awhile to get over it."

"Awhile? How long is awhile?"

"Almost a week." Noting the flash of panic, he quickly added, "But we didn't have a hospital or doctors to help. They're going to make sure you're okay. You just have to rest and be patient."

"I just want it to go away, man." Meeting first Simon's eyes and then Jim's, he smiled weakly. "I've got better things to do than lie around here all day."

Before Jim could respond, an orderly knocked and rolled in a transport gurney. "Mr. Sandburg?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to take you downstairs for your tests. Your friends will have to come back some other time."

Heartbeat and breathing increased as Blair released Simon's hand. "Sure, man. Give me just a minute, okay?"

The young man nodded as he glanced at both Simon and Jim with a smile. "Sure, but don't get up on your own. I'll be right outside." He closed the door behind him as he stepped out.

Jim leaned over the rail and kissed his forehead. "We've got the IA sessions to do and then I'll be back."

"What about the mandatory session with Frick?"

"Screw Frick. I'll take some personal time and come back right after the meeting. You don't need to be alone."

Simon nodded in agreement. "I'll clear it with Frick. It'll be fine. I've still got the Thompson case to work, but Jim needs the downtime anyway. He can spend it with you. That'll make everyone happy but me."

Confused, Blair asked, "Why not you, Simon?"

"Because I'd rather be here with you, too, but, since I can't, Jim can do the honors." He patted his cheek, but stopped short of the kiss as the orderly knocked and entered again.

"Sorry, guys. I've got to take him down now."

Reluctantly, Jim nodded and headed toward the door with Simon. Blair's voice stopped them from leaving. "Come back soon, okay?"

"You don't even have to ask."

Stepping outside, Simon led the way to the elevator, neither man speaking until the doors clanged shut. "Jim, you okay?"

"No. You?"

"Not really. I know he's going to be fine, but I still can't help but worry."

Jim leaned back against the elevator wall and remained silent until they got out in the parking garage and walked toward his truck. "I'm going to take off as long as he needs me."

"That's fine."

"I still want to help on the case."

Simon stopped and caught his arm. "Jim, we'll do what we have to. You take off and I'll still keep you informed." They walked again as he continued. "To tell you the truth, it'll be easier to focus on the case if I know you're with him."

Jim unlocked the door to the truck, climbed in, and reached over to let Simon in. He put the key in the ignition and started the engine. As Simon buckled up, Jim gripped the steering wheel, his eyes squinted against the light. "This isn't how I expected the day to go."

"I know. I'm disappointed, too, but it'll be fine."

Jim nodded and then focused on the task of driving. The sooner he got to the station, the sooner he could return to Blair, to be there if anything else went wrong. He steeled himself and headed out, pushing away the doubts that clamored for attention. Simon's comforting hand on his shoulder made all the difference.

"Looks like he did us all a favor." Jim stood near the hanging body, the blackened skin bloated, the stench of waste dried on the mattress beneath attacking his senses. Even dialed down on low, his nose suffered from the reek of filth and decay. Thompson's copse still swayed slightly, the rope around his neck looped up over a beam in the high ceiling of the abandoned building.

Simon frowned as he studied the letter wrapped in plastic. He picked up the book on the floor and flipped through the pages. "It's all here. The whole thing. He's got dates and details. Anderson won't be seeing the light outside a jail cell any time soon."

"It's the least the son of bitch could do after all the shit he pulled."

Glancing over, Simon moved around the end of the bed, his voice low. "Let's step outside. We're in the way here." Grinding his teeth, Jim followed and walked out to the porch landing, the crush of technicians and their lights wearing him down as they moved all around him. "Go on back to the hospital. We've got what we need to finish this."

Jim leaned back against the rusty metal rail, his arms crossed, his whole body tense. "Suicide. Shit. Who would've figured Thompson for that?"

"I have to admit, I didn't expect it, but then I didn't expect him to be gay, either. Must be losing my powers of observation."

Jim met his lover's eyes, his voice tight around the words. "He says that's why he did it."

"I know."

"He hated being a fag enough to hang himself. Jesus." Turning around, Jim stretched out his arms and braced himself forward, his head down. "Not because of killing Harrison or Burke or any of the other shit he pulled, but because he was queer, his words, not mine."

"I read the note, Jim. I know what it says."

After a few moments, Jim stood up and turned around, his gut still knotted. "It pisses me off."

"What?"

"This whole thing. It's so fucking wrong. If he hadn't been so ashamed, Anderson couldn't have blackmailed him and all this could've been avoided."

"Maybe."

"Harrison and Burke, hell, even Mansfield, they'd all still be alive and Blair wouldn't be in the hospital if it weren't for Thompson. It's all bullshit."

"Jim, settle down." Simon's direct tone stopped his rant, but the anger still swelled in his chest, the pressure making his head swim. The larger man stepped closer and put a hand on his arm. "The man's dead. He's left us plenty to get Anderson. Let it go."

"I can't. The whole thing's wrong."

"Of course, it's wrong, but as far as Thompson's concerned, it's finished. What we need to do is contain the damage."

"I don't understand."

Simon sighed and looked around for privacy before he spoke. "When the details get out, this is going to be a circus. The press is going to have a field day at the PD's expense. We're all going to be under a lot of stress and scrutiny. We have to be more careful."

"Shit. You're talking about us."

"We can't let anyone know what's going on." Simon crinkled the plastic around the letter as he fingered it. "People might be looking harder than usual at their colleagues. This whole thing could stir up an even bigger mess if paranoia sets in."

"You mean there's likely to be a homophobic backlash."

"Yeah, that, too."

Jim rubbed his mouth with both hands before standing up straight and taking a deep breath. "This whole thing makes my teeth hurt. Fuck. I hate this kind of shit. Secrets inside secrets. I don't know what's going to get to me first, the sentinel stuff or this other thing."

"Well, for now it's the other thing we have to worry about."

Nodding, Jim took a deep breath. "I'm going to the hospital. Blair's results should be in."

"Call me when you find out. At least you can tell him the IA meeting went okay."

"Yeah, at least there's that."

"And tell him I'll be there as soon as I can."

Simon turned to go back inside as Jim spoke quietly. "He'll know that already."

Smiling, Simon nodded as he stepped into the room filled with the waste and horror of a self-inflicted ending.

"So, he's dead?"

"Yeah. He hanged himself in one of the old buildings out off Berry."

"Jesus."

"Yeah, it wasn't pretty."

Blair sighed and closed his eyes, his face still tense as he spoke. "I don't think I could ever do that."

Startled, Jim leaned against the rail of the bed. "I should hope not."

"I mean, he must have been pretty desperate to kill himself, huh?"

"He had a lot to answer for."

"And a cop going to prison would've been hard to deal with."

"Where are we going with this, Chief? Are you feeling sorry for Thompson?"

Eyes blinked several times before they focused and met Jim's. "I feel sorry for anybody who gets into that kind of self-destructive mindset, Jim. Don't you?"

"Not really." Elbows braced on the rail, Jim fisted his hands together. His voice took on a hard edge, the words sharp and biting. "We all make our own choices. He fucked up and he ended up hurting a lot of innocent people. It's a little hard to work up any pity for a man who kills a guy he's supposed to love just because he's afraid someone might find out they're sleeping together."

"Did you ever find Harrison's body?"

"No, and we won't. According to the letter, he burned it at the incinerator."

"Man, that sucks."

"Yeah." Tracing his fingertips up the side of Blair's face, Jim's voice softened. "Enough about all that. How are you feeling?"

"Better." Blair reached up and took Jim's hand in his and held it to his chest. "I wish I could just go home."

"Better safe than sorry, Chief. The doctor said if you rest the swelling should go down by itself and the vertigo should go with it."

Blair wet his lower lip and swallowed. "He also said that if it doesn't, they might have to drill a hole in my head, Jim."

"That's not going to happen.

"You don't know that."

Reluctantly, Jim pursed his lips and squeezed his lover's hand. "You're right, but even if it did happen, you're going to be okay. This Elliot guy's on top of things." He leaned in and whispered, "I'm right here with you, Blair. You're going to be okay. I promise."

Blue eyes misted slightly as Blair swallowed hard, his face flushed as his fear played across his features. "If something did happen, at least you'd have Simon."

Pulling away, Jim stood straight, the words like a slap. "I don't want to hear that kind of shit, Sandburg. Nothing's going to happen."

"I'm just saying..."

"I know what you're saying. Just don't."

"I'm sorry."

Silent for a few moments, Jim walked to the window, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. The thought of losing Blair choked him, made it hard to think straight, but he struggled to put his hateful worries into words. "Do you really think having Simon in my life would make losing you okay?"

"I didn't mean it like that, Jim."

"Then how did you mean it?"

Blair turned his head, dark curly strands clinging to the stark white of the pillow. "I just hate to think of you alone."

"I'm not going to be alone, because nothing's going to fucking happen."

"Okay, man. I didn't mean to piss you off." The words weakened as Blair shut his eyes, his face more relaxed. "God, I'm sleepy."

Anger gone, Jim stepped back to the bed and smoothed back the wild hair no longer tamed by the tieback. "Then sleep, Chief. The more rest you get, the sooner that swelled head of yours will get better."

Running the back of his hand up and down Blair's cheek, stroking it gently with an easy rhythm, he watched his partner drift off, his breathing slow and even. When it was safe, he whispered the determined words echoing in his head. "I love you, Blair Sandburg. Don't you dare leave me."

Simon slipped into the room quietly, but not enough to fool a sentinel. Jim glanced up from the bedside and nodded a greeting. The older man pulled up a chair and sat down as he whispered, "How's he doing?"

"He's sleeping."

Annoyed by the gruff tone, Simon tilted his head. "I can see that."

"Then you know as much as I do. It's a waiting game." Jim relaxed slightly and swallowed, his belly still too tight and knotted. "He does seem a little better though." Rubbing his eyes, Jim took several deep breaths to clear his head. "What time is it?"

"A little after eleven. The meeting with the mayor and the Chief ran later than expected. They're trying to do an end run around the media."

"Is it working?"

"Not really, but they are drafting all kinds of statements and procedures for damage control within the ranks. It might help in the long run. Did you catch the news?"

"No reason to."

Frowning, Simon shrugged and then stood up long enough to take off his coat before settling down again. "You have supper?"

"Wasn't hungry."

"What about Blair? Did he keep anything down?"

"Yeah, most of it. Got sick around nine, but they gave him another shot and he went back out again."

"Well, that's something anyway."

Jim met his eyes and asked, "What about you? Did you get something to eat?"

"I grabbed a sandwich. You want me to stay here while you go get something downstairs?"

"No, I'm fine. I might get some coffee later."

Simon leaned forward, taking Jim's hand in his, rubbing the top of it as he spoke. "Why don't you go now? You look like you could use a break."

"I don't want to leave him."

"I'll be here."

Jim squeezed Simon's hand and then sat back, his hand to his mouth as he spoke quietly. "We should've been here last night, Simon. Not home doing what we were doing. He needed us and we weren't here."

Rather than argue, Simon looked first at Blair and then back at Jim. "Maybe, but we're here now. One of us will be with him from now on."

"And when he gets out of here?"

"Even then."

Grimly, Jim met Simon's dark stare. "Even if it means people might talk about a captain who's too attached to his men?"

Pausing only a heartbeat, Simon smiled. "Even then, Jim."

Jim pursed his lips as he studied his lover. "Scared?"

"Only of losing what's important."

Nodding, Jim scooted forward and caressed his cheek briefly before standing and staring down at his sleeping partner. "That makes two of us."

The End