Title: Self Image
Author: Grey
E-mail address: Grey853@aol.com
Rating: NC-17, some parts will be mild, while others will be explicit.
Pairing: J/B
Status: New
Date: January 19, 1998
Archive: Yes
Archive E-mail: Grey853@aol.com
Series: Sequel to "Public Image". This can be read on it's own, but will be much easier to understand if you've read the first part.
Website: http://grey.ravenshadow.net

Disclaimer: Don't own these guys, so I brought them home to play in the attic. They seem to fit right in.

Summary: Recovering from the emotional and physical trauma of Blair's sexual assault, both Sentinel and Guide must cope with the aftermath.

Warning: This story deals with major rape trauma, uses frank language, and will contain explicit sexual talk and activity. If that bothers you, don't read it.

Self Image
by Grey
Grey853@aol.com

Late autumn sunlight sliced through the thin slats at the hospital window. It intruded, pricking at the cushion of darkness Blair Sandburg had wrapped around both his body and soul. The brightness annoyed him, but not enough to really react. Emotions required way too much energy and he found himself totally tapped out.

Lifting a slender hand to his throat, he caressed the fading bruises, faint reminders of his attack and his attempt to escape. Somehow, stroking the circle of yellowed flesh gave him a mild comfort, the only thing that could these days. Knowing he could always do it again made it easier to endure the constant dullness of breathing.

A knock at the door interrupted the hum of background sound. "Hey, Chief. I see you're ready to go."

"Yeah, the sooner the better."

Jim Ellison studied his friend dressed in black sweats and tennis shoes. Weight loss over the last 9 days since his brutal assault tallied in too high and the clothes hung loosely. A leather strap tamed wild brown curls by pulling them into a ponytail. Stubborn wisps formed a halo around his pale, unshaven face.

Jim's heart clutched in his chest as he recognized the shade of sadness that now surrounded his best friend. He caught his thoughts whirling in a mix of anger, fear, and shame. Shaking off his own gloomy panic, he focused back on Blair who still stood motionless by the bed.

"So, Chief, do we need to sign any papers or anything? Get any prescriptions?"

"Everything's done, Jim. All you have to do is get the nurse so we can leave."

"Oh yeah, that wheelchair deal, huh. Don't you hate that? I mean if you're well enough to go home, you should be well enough to walk out on your own."

For the first time since his arrival, Blair looked up. "You're babbling, Jim. Don't be so nervous. I'm okay, really. Why don't you go get the nurse?"

Blushing at discovery, he did just that.

The ride back to the loft set a record. Blair never spoke a word, while Jim couldn't seem to shut up. As soon as they were inside, Jim put the bags down and asked, "What about dinner, Chief? Bet you're starved. Why don't I order us some Chinese or I could make something, but then you're still recuperating. We should probably stick with take out. What do you think?"

"I think it's a wonder you never shot me before this."

Ellison stopped in his tracks. "What?"

"If I ran my mouth as much as you just did coming from the hospital to here, I would've shot me."

"Sorry, I'm not usually like this."

Softly, Blair agreed. "I know, Jim. Don't worry about it. Relax a little. I'm going to go take a shower and then lie down. I'm really tired."

"Well, sure, Chief. What about something to eat though?"

"I'm not hungry."

"But you have to eat."

"I know that, but not just now."

"Okay, but what about your medicines?"

"What about them?"

"Shouldn't you give me a list or something so I can help you keep track?"

"I think I can manage on my own with that. Besides, it's just antibiotics and a few other things. Nothing big."

"If you say so, Chief."

Blair closed his eyes and put a hand to his head. "I'm going to shower now."

"Sure, go ahead."

As soon as the door clicked shut and the water started, Jim picked up the luggage to take to Blair's room. He fought temptation to check out the pills he knew his friend had, but went back into the living room instead.

Combing his hand through his thinning hair, he mentally kicked himself. Sure, he'd talked non-stop on the way home, talked and hadn't said a damn thing. Not one word of love passed his lips. He felt like such a coward. He hated his own inability to say the simplest and yet most important thing he would ever say. Why did it have to be so unbelievably hard to just tell Blair how much he loved him?

The shower shut off and the faucet soon started. The scraping of bearded jaw combined with the soapy smell of shaving cream aroused him. He ignored the physical evidence of his attraction and headed for the kitchen. Shaking his head sadly, he put water on the stove to boil and then went over to sit and wait on the couch.

Blair walked in from the bathroom, now dressed in clean dark gray sweats, his damp curls clinging to the edge of his face. "I thought you were going to get something to eat."

"I was, Chief, but I need to talk first."

The serious tone triggered immediate tightness. "I told you I'm really tired, Jim. Why don't we wait until later."

"I can't wait much later, Blair. It's really important that I say this now."

Taking a deep breath and reluctantly nodding, Blair saw the water starting to steam on the stove. "Okay, just let me make some tea first. Then I'll let you talk all you want or until I collapse."

"Don't even joke like that."

Instead of answering, Blair quietly fixed his tea. By the time he came to sit on the far end of the sofa, Jim had enough nerve built up to say, "I love you, Blair."

Almost casually, he looked over the top edge of his cup. "Yeah, well, you've said that before. I love you, too."

"I know what I said before, but now I'm saying something different."

His attention finally focused, Blair shifted a little uneasily and put down his cup. "What exactly are you saying, Jim?"

"I really don't know why I've been such a chickenshit about this, but for some reason I've had a hard time facing the fact that I'm in love with you."

"I guess I'm just a hard guy to love, huh?"

"Jesus, no. It's me, not you. I just couldn't seem to get past the guy/guy thing."

"Guy/guy thing?"

"Yeah, I can talk a good game with the best of them, but putting it into action in my own life isn't the same."

Turning to face Blair, he touched his right hand out to his friend's. The young man didn't retreat, but he didn't respond either. "You were so much braver about your feelings and it scared me."

"So, when did you finally decide you loved me, Jim? Was it before or after Young raped me?"

Jerking his hand away as if burned, Jim jumped up and away from the sofa. "That's a really shitty thing to say, Chief."

"It was a really shitty thing to happen, Jim. You still didn't answer my question."

Ellison studied the set jaw and probing eyes as his friend waited like a prayer stone for an answer. "I knew it before, but I just couldn't say it."

"But now you can?"

"Yeah, I guess I didn't truly realize how much you meant to me until I almost lost you."

"But you didn't lose me."

"It was close though."

Under his breath, Blair barely whispered, "You don't even know."

"What?"

"Nothing"

Jim came back to sit right next to his friend who refused to meet his gaze. "No, you said I didn't even know. Know what? How close you came to doing what?"

"I just meant there were close calls in ICU." Heart racing, blood pressure building, Blair still avoided Sentinel eyes.

"Please tell me, Chief." He raised a gentle hand to touch the bruises around his guide's neck.

"No. I don't want to talk about it."

"We have to."

The anger lying in wait behind the numbness suddenly pounced. "We? We have to talk. Right, Jim. You've got no fucking business telling me that we have to talk when you can't even tell me you love me because you're too ashamed about loving another man."

With an almost uncontrollable rage, he pushed Ellison back and got off the couch. Pacing back and forth with frenzied energy, he continued. "Add to that, you didn't even tell me about your suspension or anything else that's going on with you. But, yeah, I'm supposed to bare my soul to you? Like that's fair? I don't think so."

"I'm sorry. I should've told you about what happened, but I thought you had enough to deal with."

"See. You still don't get it. You want all the information, all the control, but it's not going to be like that. From now on this is going to be even or it's not going to be."

"Are you saying you'd leave me?"

"I'm saying that some things are going to change. Now, I'm going to go to bed for awhile. I'm too tired to think straight. Besides, I'm not going to talk about all this right now. We'll talk when I'm ready and not before. So, don't push."

Raising both hands, Jim surrendered. "I'm sorry. Really. I won't push. I just needed to tell you how I felt."

"Yeah, well, it's about fucking time."

With that Blair went into his own bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it behind him.

Jim Ellison stood in the center of their home, feeling totally defeated, like he'd had his ass whipped by a whole division of covert ops. Hanging his head, he raised a weak hand to his own throat and tried to block swelling fear. He'd almost lost his guide, not to Young, but to Blair's own hand. He knew it like he knew that they weren't out of the darkness yet, not by a long shot.

Lying on his back in the dark, Blair stroked his limp cock finding the mild sensation no comfort at all. After several minutes of no response, he stopped even trying. Sliding his hand up behind his head, he continued to stare up at the white ceiling. It made the perfect screen to play back the images he most wanted not to see. Young's ugly pock-marked face winked first. Then, the sight of him at the sink washing off his bloody arm, the arm that had been shoved up inside his body. All of it flashed. Blair gagged as he rolled over on his side. Curling up, he felt the tender tug of slowly healing flesh. No signal at all came from the oozing wound of his brutalized soul.

Biting down on his lip, the trickle of blood warned him to stop, but he didn't, couldn't. The protective numbness betrayed him. Jim Ellison's confession of love banished it, so now there was only pain. Now, he had to feel again. The kingdom of absolute and utter despair would be a bright light in comparison to the black hole that sucked away his very breath. He remembered clearly the salvation of nothingness that had claimed him before and he hated himself as he prayed for it again. One part of his mind recognized the problem, analyzed it, wanted to remain rational and find solutions. The other part cursed and spat and struggled to jerk the collar all that much tighter. Raw energy fired its claim on his mind as he sank deeper into a explosive, air-robbing pain.

He never heard the door as it exploded open. The desperate hands that snatched him up or the arms that held him made no dent in his reality. But the voice, like an echo across vast canyons, that he heard. "Blair, please. Wake up. Don't do this. Wake up for me, Chief."

Slowly, Blair recognized the rocking comfort of a warm embrace. The pounding heart helped him focus before he could finally speak. "I'm awake, Jim."

The heart beat slowed, but he remained cradled within his Sentinel's tender hold. His mind cleared and he found he didn't mind being there. He stayed quiet allowing some of the earlier ache to fade and the trembling to stop.

"Jesus, Blair, where's this blood coming from?"

Reaching up a hand, he wiped his lower lip. "Sorry. Must've bitten it in my sleep."

Jim scooted back a little and inspected the face. "Yeah, pretty big gash. Hold on. Let me clean that up." In just a few moments he was back with a warm cloth. Blair took it from him and dabbed before leaving it there.

"You need to change your shirt, Jim. I made a mess of things."

"No, you didn't, Chief. It's just a shirt. We both need to change and I'll get some more sheets, too. Don't worry about it."

Blair eyed the broken door. "Glad somebody around here knows how to use tools. That's going to need work."

"I heard you in here choking, Chief. I had to come in. I'll take care of the door first thing tomorrow. You can have all the privacy you need."

"Thanks. Jim, I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I'm obviously not able to deal with any of this yet."

Jim sat back down on the edge of the bed. It hurt to see Blair, who was so good with words, struggling so hard to explain his feelings.

"I remember hearing you talking in the hospital when I was in ICU. You went on about how much you loved me. That was the reason I fought so hard to come back. Then when I woke up, it was like it'd been a dream. You denied what you felt."

Reaching out to touch him, Blair let him take only his hand. "I am really sorry, Chief. Stupidity and Ellison make for quite a team."

"It's just that after that, I made a decision that I wasn't going to let myself feel anything. Nothing. I could fight this battle by simply saying none of it mattered, not Young, not your rejection, nothing. By doing that, I had absolute control."

"But, Blair, that won't work."

"I know that. When you told me today that you really did love me, it all came flooding back."

"I don't understand. How did telling you my feelings cause you pain."

Gripping Jim's hand tightly in his own, Blair fought back tears. His voice grew husky and difficult. "I couldn't know your love unless I let myself feel."

"So that meant you had to feel all the other things, too."

"Everything else that I'd been holding in since this all happened."

"So, how do you feel now?"

"Sore. Scared. Totally fucking clueless about what to do to get my life back."

Lifting Blair's hand to his lips, Jim feathered the back with the lightest of kisses. "Maybe we can work on that together, Chief."

"No maybe about it. I can't do this without you. I won't do it alone. You're either in this all the way, or I'm out of here."

Troubled blue eyes blinked back tears, as Jim lifted his hand and placed his fingers on Blair's neck. "Please, tell me about this."

"God, you're going to be a hard case about it aren't you?"

"Afraid so, Chief."

"What makes you think that it's anymore than just bruises from the struggle?"

"Then tell me that."

Eyes downcast, Blair whispered, "I can't."

"I know, Chief."

The shaking started deep in his gut and traveled up through his shoulders. Bringing him into a hug, Jim held him until the shake became a shiver, became even breathing. As Blair drifted off, Jim rocked his guide gently focusing on the soft rhythm of matching heartbeats.

"Hey, Chief, how about some tea and toast?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry."

"Come on. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday when you got home."

Blair sat huddled on the couch, knees to chin, wrapped in the thickest blanket he could find. "I told you I wasn't hungry. Why do you keep asking?"

"Because you keep not eating."

"God, you're a pain, you know that."

"Yep, stubborn, too. Now, you choose, tea and toast with a little juice or maybe some oatmeal."

"I'm not some invalid."

"Then don't act like one. You're going to eat and enjoy it."

"What a prick."

"Yep, but I'm your prick, sweet thing, so what's it going to be?"

Blair hunched down further into the protective cover, weakly relenting. "I guess oatmeal. Just don't make a lot."

"Sure thing."

"Jim?"

"What?

"This is really hard."

"I know, Blair." Jim busied himself preparing the tray. He set out lots of sugar, tea, juice, and some toast to go with it. Carefully he carried it over to the living room area and sat it down on the coffee table.

With extra effort, Blair sat up and took a bite of toast. After making his way up to oatmeal, he said, "You don't have to watch me every second, Jim. I'm okay. It's not like I'm going to try to do myself some damage with the breakfast tray."

Face clouded, Jim maintained his calm, but he didn't let the comment slide. "Anymore buttons you want to push, Chief? I think there's one over here about me being a fag or something."

Throwing the spoon down, Blair started to get up. "No, stay. I'm sorry. I just don't like you kidding about you're trying to kill yourself. Call me crazy, but it's not a joke."

"Crazy? Oh yeah, guess I should be careful considering you're suspended pending psychological evaluation."

"Yeah, I guess you should. Now, eat your oatmeal."

"Why didn't you tell me about going after Johnson? Didn't you think I'd understand?

"Understand what, Chief? That I lost all control? That I wanted to beat a man to death because I'd already killed the man I really wanted to kill and couldn't do it again?"

"Yeah, I guess. And you know what?"

Still catching his breath, Jim mumbled, "What?"

"I would've understood."

"God, Blair, we're really screwed up."

"Yep. So, what do you think we ought to do about this? I mean, all other points aside, you've got to get back to work."

"And why's that so important?"

"Well, for one, you're driving me nuts hovering like you do. The other reason is I can't go back until you do."

"Selfish bastard."

"You'd better get used to it if we're going to be a couple." He didn't mean to, but Jim flinched. "You're still having trouble with that idea, huh?"

"It's not easy getting used to a whole new self image."

"True. Been there, still doing that."

"So, how exactly did you go about doing that?"

"I'm not sure. I just knew that after you, it'd never be the same with anyone else."

Jim settled back against the sofa and studied the young man seated so near. "When did you start feeling like that about me, Chief?"

"Not at the very beginning, but near it. I think it really started after you killed Lash."

Hush weighed heavy between them. Blair started to tremble again. "Man, I so did not want to think about anymore ugliness this morning."

"You're entitled, Chief."

Jim suddenly cocked his head, sentinel senses alert. "Simon's coming up the stairs."

"What do you suppose he wants?"

"Probably wants to see if I did what I promised."

"What was that?"

"To tell you the truth."

"What? You told Simon how you felt about me before you even told me?"

"Sorry, Chief."

"You should be."

"He caught me while I was too drunk to lie."

"Damn, that is drunk."

Jim opened the door before Simon had a chance to pound on it. "I hate when you do that. Why can't you wait for the knock like a normal person?"

"Guess cause normal, or whatever passes for it, doesn't suit me these days."

Walking in past his detective, Simon gave a short wave to Blair. "How you doing, Kid? Ellison treating you okay?"

"I'm fine, but Mama Jim's treating me like some kind of nursing care fiasco."

"Yeah, well, someone should. You look like shit, Sandburg." Eyeing the still full tray of food, he continued, "When was the last time you actually ate anything?"

"I'm really getting annoyed with everybody worrying about my eating habits. I'll eat when I'm hungry. Just leave me the fuck alone about it, okay?" The hostile tone came out before he could haul it back.

"No, I don't think I will. In fact, I'm not leaving either one of you alone. I'm here to take you both in to an appointment with Dr. Ames. She's a trauma care specialist and comes highly recommended. So, why don't you two boys get dressed for your first meeting."

"You had no right to do that, Captain."

"I had every right, Jim." Seeing Ames can count toward getting you reinstated. More importantly, I'm hoping it can help the two of you get back on your feet and functioning both at home and at work."

Blair spoke softly. "I don't want to go, Jim."

Jim came around and kneeled beside him. "It's okay, Chief. I don't want to go either, but Simon's right. We need help with this. I'll be there all the way."

"This really sucks, man."

"Yeah, it does. Big time."

Simon Banks mentally chimed in with whole-hearted agreement.

"Well, which of you would like to begin?" Dr. Rachel Ames looked out over gold wire-rims at the two dissimilar looking men sitting across from her desk. The detective held his huge frame rigid, military style. The other, much smaller man, possessed a dark, fragile beauty. He sat leaning forward on the arms of the chair, staring at the floor with the darkest, most tragic blue eyes she'd ever seen. She certainly had her work cut out on this one. Simon Banks would owe a huge favor before this was over.

"Detective Ellison, may I call you Jim?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Thank you. So, Jim , why don't you start?"

"I'm not sure where I should begin."

"Fair enough. Why don't you start with telling me why you're here."

"I got suspended from work, so I have to be here before I can go back."

"Is that the only reason you're here?"

Shoulders sagged, and he glanced over at Blair. "No, I'm here because I'm in love with my partner here. He was attacked and I couldn't stop that. So, I guess I'm here because I don't want to lose him."

Ames watched closely as Blair remained completely motionless even when Jim's voice softened. "You see, Doctor, I'm really afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing now and I'm so afraid of losing him that I can hardly breathe."

"And why do you think you might lose him?"

"Because he's hurting and I don't know how to stop that."

"And you think he does?"

He turned to Blair and said, "Tell her, Chief." When he refused to respond, he persisted, "Tell her or I will."

"Damn you, Jim."

It was the first words she'd heard Blair say. The raw emotional power behind them frightened her. In her gut, she knew what was coming, but she asked anyway. "What could your partner tell me, Mr. Sandburg?"

"He'd tell you that I tried to kill myself right after I was attacked."

"And why are you angry with him for wanting you to tell me?"

Still not looking up, his voice growled. "Because it's nobody's fucking business."

"Are you thinking about hurting yourself now?"

A slight hesitation worried her. "No. I'm just tired now."

"Too tired to take care of yourself?"

"Sometimes." The voice had calmed and grown small.

"So, who takes care of you when you're that tired?"

"Jim does. Jim always takes care of me."

"And do you ever take care of Jim?"

"I used to. Right now I can barely survive."

"For now, Mr. Sandburg, barely will have to do."

Jim reached over to try to touch Blair's hand, but he pulled away refusing to look at him. Ames decided she would be needing a double dose of professionalism when she first saw big Jim Ellison start to cry.

Back at the loft it took over four hours before Blair came back out of his room. He walked out, his hair wild around his head, and asked, "We have any aspirin in this place? My head is killing me and the doctor, in his greater wisdom, took all my pain meds away."

"I've got some under the cabinet in the bathroom, Chief. Hold on. I'll get them."

On his return he found Blair seated at the table, his head down resting on his arms. "Here, Blair. How about I fix some tea, maybe some soup?"

"Tea, no soup. But some water first."

"Sure thing." Anxious to please, Jim rushed around the kitchen fetching and heating as fast as he could before the mood could change.

"Slow down, Jim. I'm not leaving."

"I know you're not, Chief. What kind of tea you want?"

"Chamomile. I can't seem to sleep. I mean, like I am so tired that I feel like I can hardly move, but when I close my eyes, well, I don't want to close my eyes, you know."

"I know. Maybe the tea will help, and if not, I could just sit with you until you fall asleep."

Surprised, Blair glanced up to see Jim standing with the mug waiting for the water to boil. "You don't have to do that, Jim."

"I want to if you'll let me."

"Okay." After a long silence while the tea brewed, Blair finally spoke, "I'm sorry about being so pissed earlier."

"Yeah, well, I would've probably been pissed, too, but I didn't know what else to do."

"It's alright. It's not like I have anything else to do but go to the shrink every single day this week and who knows for how long."

"It's just until you're better."

"Like I said who knows for how long."

"I have to go, too."

"Yeah, but only once a week on your own and three times with me. Oh yeah, Jim, this is going to be lots of fun."

"It's better than having to go into the hospital."

"I wouldn't go into the hospital."

"You would if Dr. Ames said you needed it."

Holding one hand to his head and another in a back off gesture, Blair ordered, "Don't start, Jim. It's bad enough you get to go back to work on restricted duty and I'm stuck here, no school, no job, nothing to distract me worth shit. I do not want to argue over something that is never going to happen."

"I hope it won't."

"I know it won't. Now, where's the tea. My head is starting to swim like flipper over here."

Jim busily served the tea and then carefully walked Blair back to his room. As his guide stretched out alone on the bed, he draped him with a thick wool blanket. He sat in the low light as though it were blinding sunshine.

Watching his best friend drift off into the nether world of possible nightmares and screams, he would be there to guard the waking world. But even Sentinels could not defend against such powerful, evil landscapes and creatures demon-created in the personal nightmare. Blair would have to fight those battles on his own. Listening for the precious heartbeat, Jim waited and prepared to hold him when he awoke sweating and biting his lip in the night.

Captain Simon Banks praised God that he'd never taken drugs, because he felt like he was having a goddamn flashback. Detective Ellison sat at his desk, sullen and absorbed in casefiles. He spoke only about the job, didn't interact unless directly approached, never smiled, took heads off with a single tongue swipe. It was the old Jim B.S., Before Sandburg.

"Ellison, my office. Now."

Getting up slowly, the detective walked inside and Simon shut the door behind him. "Have a seat, Jim."

"Yes, sir. If this is about work, I'll listen, but I really don't want to talk about my personal life right now."

"It's about both. It's been almost a month. Dr. Ames said you're okay to work regular duty if you want to. I need you back and the mayor called yesterday about you. So, do you think you can work out in the field right now?"

"Probably."

"You been drinking much?"

"I know what you're thinking, that I might have problem in that area, sir. No, I haven't had anything to drink, not even a beer, since the night you saw me so bad off. I decided that Blair needed me sober like you said, so I stopped completely."

"Why completely?"

"Things are jumbled in my head enough. Alcohol won't help that."

"Probably a good choice. How about your senses?"

"They're dialed down, sir. I don't want to risk using them without Blair to help."

"How is the Kid?"

Hesitation slowed his response, but finally he said, "He's getting worse."

"Worse? Damn, how bad?"

Jim stood, walked to the window, squeezing his eyes shut to keep out all the painful light. Staying controlled and dialed down proved to be more difficult than he'd imagined. "How bad, Jim?"

"He won't eat. Looks like a refugee from a POW camp. God, he gets so pissed when I try to fix him anything."

"What's the doctor say about it?"

"Ames and his regular doctor both said that he should drink Ensure or some other supplement until he gets his appetite back, but he won't. But it's not like he's doing it on purpose. He pukes almost every time he eats. And forget about sleeping. He's got sleeping pills, or rather I have them, but he won't take them."

"What do you mean you have them?"

Quietly, Jim confirmed Simon's suspicions. "I can't trust him with anything like that. He's really depressed right now."

"I see. Anything else?"

"Yeah, he's so quiet. You know how Blair loves to talk, well, not anymore. I might as well be living alone."

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do, Simon? I go to the therapist alone and with him. The funny thing is when I'm with Ames, all I do is talk about Blair. I mean, this is so different from what I thought it would be?"

"What's different?"

"This being in love thing. I'm such a stupid shit sometimes. I thought that when I finally told him I loved him, that he'd be okay, that I could hold him and protect him and make everything alright. But of course none of that happened."

"Did you really expect that, knowing the kind of trauma he went through?"

"Part of me did. Rationally I knew better, but I wanted it to be okay, you know. Hell, he doesn't even let me touch him. At least I used to have that. At the time I thought it was just my friendship and maybe it was partly, but now I know it was more that. I needed to touch him, sort of like evidence that he was real. Now the only contact is if he gets sick or wakes up screaming, but other than that he only lets me hold his hand."

"I love him, Simon. I want to be with him. I know I'm a selfish prick, and I feel so damn guilty about it, but I can't help how I feel. I need to really be with him, not as a partner at work, but as a lover for the rest of our lives."

Simon rubbed a weary hand across his face. He felt way over his head on this one, but decided he might as well drown with his friend if he had to. "Listen, I don't know much about gay love, but I know about love. Don't tell my wife I said that or she'll be certain to debate the topic. But despite the failure of my marriage, I did love my wife, in some ways I still do. I'd have done anything for her. At one point, she got really sick. I mean she was down in the bed sick for a couple of months."

"When was this?"

"Before Daryl was born, before I even knew Jim Ellison existed. Anyway, I did everything I could to make her better, but nothing I did worked. She had to do it on her own. During that whole time I felt so incredibly guilty because she was my wife and lover, and I wanted to be with her like that, but she wouldn't let me. Kept pushing me away. There was one time when I really pushed the line and she threatened divorce. And she would've been right to leave. I guess, what I'm saying is that none of us get guidebooks, if you'll pardon the phrase. Gay or straight, makes little difference when it comes to two people in love. It's a winding path and we don't even get a road map."

"Guess that's why we all get lost so often."

"I guess."

"So, what you're saying, sir, is that I need to get my head out of my ass, stop being so full of self pity, and get on with life. I've got to be there for him and when he's ready, he'll let me know if this thing is going to work out or not."

"Sounds like a fair summary to me."

"Damn, this is hard."

"But if it works out, it'll be worth it. The Kid's a keeper."

"Yeah, sir, he is. I just have a really difficult time not stepping in too soon. Even so, I'll take your advice. As to working in the field, my only hesitation is that on desk duty I'm able to have regular hours. I get to go home at lunch and check on him and I get off every day at the same time."

"So, you want to stay on desk duty? For how long?"

"I want to work on field cases, but I have to have flexibility."

"You've always got that, Jim."

"Thanks, Simon. So, what's the new case?"

Dr. Ames observed her patient with a critical and trained eye. He sat dressed in black, his hair wild and uncombed, his face pale and thin. Dark blue eyes sank behind nearly black circles with little trace of any feeling other than an incredible sadness.

"So, Blair, how are you feeling today?"

"Same as every day."

"How is that?"

"Fine."

"Define fine."

"You're a doctor. You define it."

She cocked her head. Anger flickered there and she saw her chance to start a necessary fire.

"Well, if I did, what I see before me would not fit the definition. Can you tell me how you're really feeling this morning?"

"I said fine." Words hissed out through tightly clenched teeth.

"You know, these sessions won't do much good if you're afraid to even be honest about a simple question like how you're feeling on a particular day."

"Fuck you."

"Okay. Let's go with that. Why are you so angry?"

"I'm tired of coming here. It's not doing any good."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"Because you're a lousy shrink."

"That's possible. Maybe I'm not the doctor for you. Maybe you should see someone else, someone who can get you to actually work instead of just sitting here. Would you like me to make a referral?"

Blair didn't say anything, but she saw the trembling, and then the slight trickle of tears. "No, I don't want to go anywhere else. I'm sorry. You're not a lousy shrink. I'm a lousy patient. I'm not very good at this."

"You're scared, Blair. I'm glad you don't want to go somewhere else, but I have to tell you that you're starting to worry me."

"Yeah? Join the club. I think Jim's got the sign up sheet."

"You've got to help me out. I know it's hard to talk about any of this, but unless you talk, I can't listen.

"Sounds about right."

"Let's start with what's changed. Let's face it, until now, you haven't been working with me. What's different?"

"Jim went back to work."

"I thought he'd already gone back."

"To the office. Now, he's in the field."

"And that bothers you?"

"Hell, yeah. He's out in the field. I'm his partner and I can't go with him because I'm so fucked up. He won't take anyone else, and if he gets in trouble, there'll be no one to help."

"He could call for back up."

"It's not the same."

"I'm curious. You're an anthropology student, but a police observer. Now, I heard the official story about your dissertation and all, but why don't you start now by telling me the truth."

"The truth is I help Jim on his cases. He's got these abilities that don't always work right. He needs someone to help him focus without getting too focused, if you know what I mean."

"Not really, but go ahead."

"We've been on so many cases together. Saved each other's asses so many times that it's like breathing. I can't give it up. I can't give Jim up."

"Why would you have to give Jim up?"

"Look at him. He's great. He's gorgeous and smart, cop of the year. He's been so really wonderful through this whole thing, but nobody could be expected to put up with my shit for this long."

"Are you afraid of him leaving?"

Pausing for a moment before he answered, Blair managed, "No, I'm afraid of my pushing him away."

"Are you doing that?"

"I don't mean to, but I catch myself sometimes thinking about how much better off he'd be without me. Then I turn around and do something so totally shitty. I figure if I give him a reason, then he won't feel so bad when he has to finally give up on me or if something happened and I couldn't be there anymore."

Cold chills gripped her as she leaned forward across the desk. "What are you expecting to happen, Blair? Why couldn't you be there anymore? And be honest with me."

Working at breathing steady, Blair curled his fingers into tight fists. "I've been dreaming of nothing?"

"Nothing?"

"I keep thinking that if I could fade into nothingness, then all this wouldn't hurt so much. I could close my eyes and the glaring ugliness would be gone. I wouldn't have to see myself or the pain I cause for Jim."

"Have you actually thought about how you'd find this nothingness?"

"Yeah, but don't worry, I'm too chickenshit to act on it. I'm not going to kill myself, but I have to admit that toying with the idea right after some midnight screamer does have a certain appeal." He reached over and grabbed a tissue from the desk box. "Damn allergies. Don't look so serious, Dr. Ames. Believe it or not, admitting to all of this sort of helps, and don't even say I told you so."

"I wasn't going to. Have you spoken to Jim about these feelings?"

"Are you kidding? He's already locked up every pill and sharp object in loft. He's started eyeballing my shoelaces last night. No, he knows, but like everything else, we don't talk about it."

"In our sessions together, that's what you both admit. So, why is it you can't seem to tell the other how you feel?"

"A lot of reasons, I guess. This whole love thing threw me for a major loop and I know it did Jim, too. I mean, before this we both dated women. Jim was even married. Then, I don't know how it happened, but I started thinking of him in bed."

Blair suddenly started to blush and looked down at the floor. "Sorry, I don't know if I can talk about this or not."

"It's okay. It just seems to me, that Jim really does love you. Do you doubt that? Is that why it's so difficult to deal with your feelings for him?"

"No, I don't doubt he loves me, but I do wonder if he's going to be able to deal with the entire package of being a gay couple in America. I was raised in a really open environment. Some other day or two, I'll tell you about my Mom, one of the original hippie flower children. Despite that, I even had trouble with this. Jim, now, he's from a different world."

"Why did you have trouble with it?"

"It's the self image thing. I didn't have anything against anyone being gay. In fact, to be openly gay or bisexual in this world takes a lot of guts and I always admired that, but it never applied to me, at least not really. Sure, I experimented as a kid, but it wasn't serious stuff. Then, I was pissed at Jim for being such a coward about admitting he loved me, but I was no better. Like I said, at least I had Naomi, my mom, to teach me to appreciate and respect alternative lifestyles. Jim didn't have anyone to help him out. His family was totally anal and right wing conservative. Kill a gay guy wouldn't have been a far cry from the family motto, you know. I'm totally amazed that he's such a great person, so absolutely fair. But, he has to really work hard to get there. It's going against everything he was conditioned to believe."

"But he's managed to overcome his prejudice, Blair. What makes you think he can't deal with his own changing sexuality?"

"He probably can. It's just I'm so afraid that I'll finally give in to totally loving him and then it'll be too much. He'll be gone and there'll I'll be stupid fag of the year Blair Sandburg who deserves to get fist fucked, not because he's queer, but because he's so fucking dumb."

The hateful harshness of his words squeezed her heart. "Is that what you really believe?"

"No, not really. It's like I've got these two different voices in my head. One is very reasonable, says I'm being paranoid. Jim really does love me. He's beautiful and glorious and I should let him take me to bed. Then the other is an asshole that taunts me, gibbering and laughing at what a fool I am. That I should just put a belt around my neck and hang myself right this time. Neither one is very pleasant company these days."

"What about the first one. Why can't you listen to the idea of you and Jim sleeping together?"

"I've never really been with a man and Jim has less experience than I do."

"Has Jim said anything that would tell you he'd be unhappy with sleeping with you?"

"No, in fact, I've seen him get hard just watching me. Before all this happened, I would've been in hog heaven to go down on Jim Ellison. Sometimes I would get turned on thinking about how he walked into the loft or the bull pen all butch and commanding. Full throttle control. God, I love that. He's always on top of everything, able to deal with the most godawful messes, including some of the shit I've gotten into on cases."

"So, now that he's confessed his love, you're not aroused by him?"

"I'm not aroused period."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't even masturbate. I haven't had an erection since this happened."

"You know that's a common side effect for trauma. You shouldn't worry about."

"Easy for you to say, Doc. Since we're suddenly being so goddamn intimate, I should tell you that Jim used to refer to me as the kind of guy who would jump a table leg. I mean I was jack off king of Cascade and really into anyone I could get into, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I know what you mean. And now you're worried because you feel impotent?"

"Man, I like really hate that word. I hate being like this even worse. I mean, I want Jim to be able to touch me, but every time he does, I sort of freak. I'm so afraid he's going to be grossed out, that I just run from it all, avoid even dealing with it."

"Why would he be grossed out?"

"Doc, I want to sleep with my partner. Now, I don't know how many gay couples you've counseled, but the mechanics are a bit different from straight. I have gay friends who love to share and I've read a lot of material on the subject, especially after the feelings for Jim started. Now, I'd gone down on a buddy before, been blown and done hand jobs, but it was kid stuff. I've never really been with a man, not someone I really cared about. I guess all things considered, I was kind of a slut before. Now, I want it to count."

"And you're afraid Jim doesn't want the same?"

"Oh, he wants it. I'm just afraid he won't be able to handle it. I mean, I want to be with him, but I know there's no way I'm even close to being ready for him to actually make love to me, you know, penetrate me." Despite the bravado of raw talk, Blair blushed again.

"There are other ways to make love without that, Blair. Straight or gay, it's the emotional connection that will determine if it's making love or jumping that table leg you mentioned."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Why not talk to Jim about it? I truly believe he'd respect any limit you set. Regaining the physical trust of just touching is important, but when you're ready to move to a more intimate level, he needs to know what you need. He's a good man, Blair. These are just details. The whole picture is that you have a man who loves you. Tell him the things you've told me."

"What about the impotence?"

"Has your internist or surgeon suggested that it's physical?"

"No. My internist said I shouldn't worry about it. In fact, he released me. Said that I was as good as new. I think it was the first laugh I'd had in about 6 weeks."

"Then, when you're really and truly ready, when you trust Jim and yourself, things will work out."

"I wish I could be as sure as you are."

"I've got the easy part. All I have to do is listen and advise. You're the one living it. And, Blair, I know you feel bad right now, but, I have to tell you that for the first time since you started coming here, you've made major progress."

"Is that your way of saying, Go Guy?"

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"Gee, thanks, Doc. Do I get a sucker?"

"Only if you do your homework."

"Oops. Homework? What do I have to do?"

"You have to choose one of your fears, only one, and talk to Jim about it. Then I want you to write down your feelings about what happened."

"That's two fears."

"Well, maybe I'll give extra credit."

The crime scene photos of the murder-rape of Muriel Plummer flashed in Jim's mind. The day had stretched longer than he'd expected with witness accounts and trying to track down and verify some facts. Despite having several leads to follow, Jim decided to go home. Walking into the loft he immediately registered a difference. Cheesy Italian smells coupled with warming bread wafted his way from the kitchen. Blair, freshly shaved and groomed, stood at the counter slicing carrots for a salad. His curley brown hair glowed like a crown.

"Hey, Jim. About time you got home. I was starting to think I was going to have to call the station to get volunteers to come eat all this." And then he brought out the Blair Sandburg major-watt, full force smile.

Jim wanted to go out and check the date to see if he'd entered a time warp, but didn't want to spoil the mood. "Hey, Chief. Something smells good."

"Yeah? I thought it was time I got around to trying out that lasagna recipe Mrs. Amos in accounting gave me. So, how was your first full day back in the field?"

"Okay. I'd rather hear about your day though."

"Tell you what. You go take a quick shower first and get cleaned up, might even shave since it looks like you missed a few whiskers in this morning's rush. Then we'll eat, sit back, talk."

"Shave, sure, I can do that."

Noticing Jim's confusion, Blair decided to ignore it awhile longer. "Go on. It'll be done in about 15 minutes. You can use all the hot water you want. Be as greedy and selfish as you please."

Not even sure about how to deal with such a drastic change, Jim just headed off to do what he was told. Walking into the bathroom, he couldn't help but get a stupid grin as he realized he was happy to have a pushy little guide telling him what to do for a change. He tried not to worry about what was going on, or even try to understand it just yet. He just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted, because having it last was far too much to hope for right away. Even so, it was damn hard not to have hope when you had the man you loved wearing tight jeans and cooking you an Italian dinner in the other room.

"So, tell me about this case you're on."

"I don't really want to talk about it while I'm eating, Chief. It's not a pretty thing. I don't want to spoil this."

"Okay, no problem." Blair pushed his food around on the plate. He'd eaten more, but not much.

"This is great, Blair. Really. The food, you, everything."

"Me? I'm on the menu?" The teasing, sexual tone dripped from his words.

"Chief? You want to tell me what's going on with you tonight? What exactly happened today?"

"Finish that and let's go sit on the couch. I think it's about time we talked about something more important than what's on my plate."

Both men moved without speaking and situated themselves comfortably. Blair sat with his legs crossed and tucked up under him. He leaned against he arm rest facing Jim. "You want to talk to me now, Chief?"

"I had a really good session with Dr. Ames today."

"If this is the result, I'm hoping for a good session every day."

"Me, too. Anyway, you're my homework."

"Please, no science projects."

"She told me I had to talk to you about something that I really didn't want to talk about. But then we haven't talked about much of anything in a long time have we?"

"No, we haven't."

"So, I decided that being the good student I am, I was going to do my assignment to the best of my ability."

"What's first on Jim Ellison 101?"

"Actually it's more like the advanced course. All kidding aside, we need to talk about some tough stuff tonight and I need to know if you're ready for it."

Smiling at the direct tone and challenge, Jim returned it. "If you're ready, I am. Bring it on, man."

"When you told me you loved me, I wasn't really prepared to listen to it, to know it. The timing sucked."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Jim. It's not a problem now. The problem now is that I really want to be with you, but I'm not sure how to do that and feel safe."

"You're losing me here, Chief? Why wouldn't you feel safe with me? Is this because I couldn't keep you safe from what happened?"

"No. We'll talk about that nasty bit in your guilt bag some other night. That's on your list of issues, not mine. Lord knows, mine is long enough. No, this about my fear of losing you, or actually my pushing you until you have to leave."

"You'd have to push pretty damn hard, Blair. I'm not leaving."

"You don't think I've been pretty effective at driving a serious wedge between us? Personally, I'm surprised you haven't left already."

"So, that's what this is about. You think I'm going to just up and walk away? No way. Just forget about it, because it ain't going to happen. I'm in for the long plan, Chief. You'd better get used to it. The only way you're getting out this is if you decide to leave."

Then Blair threw a curve ball. "What if I did decide to leave? What would you do then, Jim?"

Paralyzed, Jim sat motionless. Then he started shaking, his whole body sagging from the weight of his worst fear. "Oh, god, Blair, don't tell me that you're leaving me. I couldn't deal with that. I just couldn't. Don't ask me to do that." Dropping his head to his hands, Jim rubbed his face back and forth in his palms as if he could clear away all the confusion with some simple physical act.

Blair moved closer, resting his body next to the bigger man's. Shushing, he wrapped his right arm around broad shoulders, pulling him closer. The heat of the contact warmed him. "It's alright. I'm not leaving. It was a stupid question. Forgive?"

Looking up, Jim gazed into deep teal blue eyes, slightly dilated in the dim light. "Blair, I want to kiss you right now, but since we've never done that, I need to know if that's okay with you."

"I think I'd like that."

Gently Jim turned around and brought Blair closer into his arms. Ever so lightly he tilted up the chin and brought his lips to smooth moist lips. Blair pressed forward and Jim cupped the back of his head, running his fingers through silky brown curls. Lips parted and herbs of the earlier meal played out against an unfamiliar, unique flavor. Almost like exotic limes and oranges mixed with jungle greenery, Blair's warm taste washed wet across his tongue. Moaning into the kiss, he found himself floating into a stream of essence so enticing he couldn't pull away. An insistent rub against his cheek brought him back.

"Damn, that was nice, Jim, but we're going to have to be careful. You ever zone while you kissed before?"

Still slightly hazy Jim tried to focus as he spoke, but couldn't quite string his words together. "No. Jesus, Blair, intense."

"Breathe for me. Come on, deep and even." As soon as he thought that Jim could handle it, he added, "Now, dial down a little."

"Okay. I can do that." After a few moments, he apologized. "Sorry. But, man, that was fine. It's tempting to do it again."

"Well, I should hope so."

They both smiled, and Blair continued his slow even circle of massages in the space between his shoulder blades. "Where was your dial anyway?"

"Only medium, but you do something to me, babe."

Blair shyly took Jim's left hand and held it. "I want us to be close. I'm just really scared, you know."

"Yeah, I do, Blair. Believe it or not the big old Sentinel gets scared, too, especially when his guide's been away."

"Sorry, Jim."

"Not your fault, babe. Now, how about we try that kissing thing again?"

"Greedy guy."

"You bet."

"We can do that, but we have to go slow."

"I can do slow." Pausing for a moment, he added, "How slow?"

"Well, for tonight, pretend I'm a school girl on her first date."

"Nope, can't do that one. I don't date school girls. Too young and they're not you. How about setting a boundary we can both be comfortable with?"

"Which would be?"

"No touching below the waist for you. How about that for a start? Or is that too much? You've got to tell me, Blair."

"That sounds okay. And if I do anything that you don't like, you've got to stop and tell me, too."

"Deal, but I've got to say I've got no boundaries about where you can lay your hands on me, Chief. For that matter your mouth, or any other part you want to touch me with, has free and easy access."

"I can't believe I'm in love with such a slut."

"Believe it, baby. Do whatever you want."

Rather awkwardly at first, Jim raised a hand to his guide's cheek and leaned in for another kiss. His other hand brought their bodies much closer, with Blair's back against the couch. Jim pulled away a minute and with only a few inches between them, he said, "I've never kissed anyone with stubble before. It feels kind of nice. Adds a little texture."

"Yeah, I know. I was sort of thinking the same thing. I like the way you're so much bigger than me, too. It's like all this heat and warmth. My own great big portable furnace."

"Well, I know how you hate the cold, babe." Then Jim tilted his head and started licking the side of his lover's neck, nibbling and sucking his way down the flesh as it went under the collar. "I want to unbutton your shirt. Is that okay? I promise to keep you warm without it."

His throat constricted and his words came out thick. "Most definitely. Just don't stop what you're doing. Man, that feels so good. It's been so long."

Jim saw a tear run down the side of Blair's cheek. He slid his tongue across it, the saltiness spreading like ocean breeze across his mind. "No crying, babe."

"It's okay. I'm not sad. I guess that's why I'm crying. I forgot what it felt like to feel good."

"Then it's time you remembered, lover."

With the front of his shirt open, Jim felt himself grow even harder at the sight of the brown chest hair. Tenderly he dropped his face forward and began to lap right in the middle. Then he shifted over to the right nipple. Touching it gently with his tongue tip, he felt his own tear slip down when he remembered the bloody mess left from the nipple ring ripped from his lover's body. He felt a pat and rub as Blair held his head with both hands.

"It's okay, Jim. It feels good. Replace the pain with pleasure for me. Please."

Between his teeth he drew the nub up and teased it with his tongue, letting it swell and get slick before sucking more. Blair's moans and uncontrolled arching spurred him on. To be fair he exchanged one nub for the other. The sudden gasp made him suck even harder. Beneath him his own erection pushed into Blair's thigh. He recognized the bulge straining from behind his lover's zipper. He wanted desperately to touch it, but refused, respecting the boundary.

Instead, he undid his own pants and slipped them down and off. His bottom naked, he lifted up on his knees, and whispered pleadingly, "Touch me, Chief. God, please."

"I'll do more than that. Stretch out and lie on your back."

Shocked, but too hard to ask questions, the sentinel lay down, one foot on the floor to brace himself. Blair climbed off the couch, standing there a moment before slipping off his own jeans and underwear, his erection springing up from the nest of dark brown curls. He kneeled by the sofa and lowered his hungry mouth over the head of Jim's cock. The loud groan grew louder as the young man bobbed his head, dragging his suctioning lips up and down the shaft. Blair circled his tongue around and teased the tip, slurping pre-cum like magic elixir.

With one hand he fondled Jim's balls and with the other he stroked himself, feeling an electric current zapping at every nerving ending he'd thought died weeks ago. Twitching and balls drawing up signaled Jim's nearness. Increasing his own strokes, sudden flashing blazes fried the back of his eyelids as he felt himself come. Jim grabbed his head while he arched up and pumped one last time. The delicious tang coated his throat and he greedily swallowed and gobbled up as much as he could. Hunger had finally returned and he found himself totally ravenous. Lifting up he still licked and lapped up all around the edges of Jim's flagging cock, slicking the pubic hair down like some lazy, satisfied cat.

Jim's large hand reached out and caressed the back of Blair's head as he still worked at cleaning up his Sentinel's crotch. The word house rule flipped through his mind and he smiled. "Hey, Chief. When you decide to come back to the land of the living, you really make an entrance."

Lips still swollen and moist, Blair teased. "Like that did ya?"

"Words fail me, Love."

Blushing shyly, Blair raised up and then lay full length across Jim, resting his head on his man's still shirted chest. He let his hand run up and down the broad human cushion. "I like that, Jim. Say it again."

"I love you, Love. You're my one and only. I never in my life would've believed it for so many reasons, but, Blair, you're it for me. Forever."

"I love you, too, Jim."

"I know."

Very quietly, as though afraid to break the spell, Blair whispered, "I wish we could stay like this forever, just the two of us. Nobody else, no past, no outside world, just us."

"I know."

"But that can't be, can it. I guess, what I'm saying is that I know there are going to still be a lot of rough times ahead. I'm still not well yet."

"But you're getting there, love."

"I just don't want you to think it's always going to be like this and then when I go a little nuts or do something really pissy, you think it's over."

"I'm not going to leave you, babe. No matter what you do. Besides, I hate to break it to you, but you were never that easy before and it didn't stop me from falling head over heels full zone out in love with you."

"You saying I'm a bitch to live with, Jim?"

"I think we both are sometimes. But the thing is that it doesn't matter, because now we're both working for the same thing."

"What's that?"

"To love and support each other completely and say fuck you to the world if they don't like it."

"Very eloquent, Jim."

"Well, you're the one with all the fancy words, Chief. You could probably say it better."

Nuzzling his head against his lover's warm chest, provoked a deep embrace. Nestled there in Jim's arms, sleepy and peaceful, completely entwined, Blair shook his head, "Nope. I couldn't have said it better myself."

The END