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As he came around the bushes Jim heard splashing water. Just ahead of him was the wolf, standing beside - the fountain? The fountain at Rainier University? The fountain where Blair..? Jim spun around. He was at the university.
"What is this? What's going on?" he shouted. At the sound of his angry voice the wolf cringed backward, toward the lip of the fountain. Jim's heart faltered.
"No!" he shouted. "Stay away from there! Come back!" He lurched forward as the wolf turned toward the water. He grabbed for it, but his fingers only grazed the tip of the long tail as the wolf leaped over the water. "NO!!"
"No!" Jim reached forward, his hands touching nothing but air. He blinked, then looked around at his darkened bedroom. Shaking, he wiped a hand across his face. "Another damn dream."
Later that morning Ellison strode into the major crimes division at police headquarters and walked swiftly to Simon's office. He ignored the startled looks of his colleagues and went into the captain's office without knocking. Simon was seated at his desk, listening to someone on the phone, a mug of steaming coffee in one hand. When he saw Jim he made hurried excuses into the phone and hung up.
"What are you doing here?" Simon demanded. "I gave you a month's leave, and I expect you to take it. All of it."
"I can't, Captain." Jim paced back and forth in front of the desk, quick, angry steps. "I'm going crazy at the apartment. I'm having weird dreams. I can't stay home, but if I go out I feel naked. I need something to do, Simon. Give me a case, anything! I'll work traffic!"
Simon shook his head slowly. "Jim, God knows I miss the kid too, but you've got to take some time and sort yourself out. You're a mess. You can't come back to work so soon, as if nothing's changed."
"Sir -"
Simon banged his coffee mug down on the desk. "No. Now get out of here. You're making me crazy watching you. Go on, out."
Down in the police garage Ellison sat in his truck and stared at his hands gripping the steering wheel. "Now what, Chief?"
A few minutes later Ellison turned into the visitor's parking lot of Cascade General Hospital. He didn't remember deciding to come here, but thought he might as well go in. Up on the sixth floor the duty nurse waved as he passed her station. When he reached the room with the police guard he exchanged nods with the officer on duty, then paused in the doorway. The room was quiet, you'd almost think it was empty, except for the steady beeping of a few machines, and the quiet sound of a heartbeat only Jim could hear. Sandburg lay motionless in the narrow bed, his arm attached to an IV and a heart monitor on one finger like some sort of strange jewelry. Jim hooked a chair from near the window and brought it over to the bed. He sat down gingerly, as if Blair were only asleep and a stray noise might wake him. Dr. Andras, the doctor in charge, had gone on and on that nightmare morning, something about being deprived of oxygen, possible swelling of the brain, more words Jim didn't understand and didn't want to understand. Finally, when the doctor had shown no signs of slowing down, Jim had shouted at him to get to the point. Dr. Andras had glared for a moment, then looked him in the eye. "Mr. Sandburg is in a coma. At this point we have no way of telling when, or if, he may regain consciousness."
When, or if. Those words still echoed in Jim's head. He hated them. It had been almost two weeks and no change. Dr. Andras remained coolly neutral about Sandburg's condition. He might recover, the doctor said, but patients who didn't wake up during the first crucial week were less likely to come out of a coma unchanged.
Ellison reached out and gently smoothed the sheet around Blair. The kid looked so peaceful, but Jim's heart ached. "Come back to me, Sandburg," he whispered, his throat tight. "I need you. Lord, I didn't realize how much I need you." He leaned forward and rested his head on the edge of the bed, one hand resting gently on Sandburg's shoulder. He was exhausted, he would just close his eyes for a minute.
The water in the university fountain splashed and frothed beneath a clear sky. Ellison turned in a slow circle but there was no one in sight. When he looked back at the fountain the wolf was there, sitting on its haunches and looking at him with familiar blue eyes. "Sandburg?" He inched forward, afraid he would spook the animal again, and it was so important he touch it, comfort it just for a moment. The wolf watched his outstretched hand with great interest, but when Jim was only a few steps away it began to sidle backwards, toward the fountain.
"No!" Jim shouted, then brought his voice under control. "No, don't go that way. Come here. To me." He knelt on the smooth cobbles, his hand stretched out in entreaty. The wolf froze in place.
"I know you don't understand what's happening right now," Jim whispered, "and I know you're afraid, but I can help. Let me help you." The wolf whined softly, then leaned forward to sniff Jim's hand. He reached to touch the wolf's muzzle, but it jerked back again.
"Please," Jim pleaded. "I know I've hurt you, I know I've let you down, but I need another chance. I need you." Tears streamed down his face as he reached out again. The wolf stretched its neck toward his hand, allowing Jim to feel the softness of its face just for a moment, then it leaped forward, knocking him to the ground before vanishing. Ellison knelt by the fountain's edge for a long moment, alone.
Jim awoke with a crick in his neck, and a fierce ache in his chest. He glanced at Blair, so still beneath the thin hospital blanket. He rubbed a hand across his gritty eyes and discovered that his face was wet. Blotting the tears on a shirt sleeve, he got up to get some water from the pitcher on the nightstand. He stood staring at the empty cup in his hand for several long moments before he realized what was different. He heard something. No, this wasn't a new sound, but it was different. He strained his hearing, desperate to identify what had changed. Frustrated, he whirled toward the bed and Sandburg's still form. "Dammit."
He was about to throw the flimsy cup at the wall in a fit of anger when he felt something, a sense of no longer being alone. Dropping the cup unheeded to the floor he rushed to Sandburg's side.
"Hey, Sandburg!" He gently jostled Blair's shoulder. "Hey, Chief!" Did he see something? Did an eyelid flutter?
"Hey, buddy, I'm here. Come on. Come back to me. I'm here." Ever so slightly, Blair's hand moved and Jim's heart gave a fierce leap.
"I'm here, Sandburg! Come back to me!"
Slowly, as if his eyelids were made of stone, Blair's eyes opened. He saw Jim hovering over him, an anxious look in his eyes. He tried to say something, but Jim turned away, shouting for a doctor, a nurse, somebody right now. Blair let his eyes start to sag shut again. He was so tired, why was Jim shouting? When Jim grabbed him in a tight hug Blair's eyes popped open again. His friend was babbling something about wolves, and fountains, and graveyards? And why was his shoulder getting all wet? The last thing he heard before slipping into sleep was Jim whispering "You came back."
A week later, Blair was sitting propped up in his bed at the loft. All his things were back in the apartment, as if the strange days before the confrontation with Alex had never happened. He could hear Jim puttering around in the kitchen, humming softly under his breath. Simon had explained what had happened, though Blair didn't remember anything after being confronted by Alex in his office at Rainier. The day he came out of the coma Jim had stayed by his bedside until the nurses forced him to leave, protesting all the way down the hall to the elevator. The next day he'd been back the second they'd let him in, with Simon and Megan in tow. Dr. Andras ("a tight-ass if I ever met one," Jim had grumbled, earning him a sharp look from Simon), had given Blair a thorough going-over and said he was a very lucky young man, he was going to be just fine. Jim had glared at the doctor behind his back, then beamed at Blair while the doctor wrote up his notes and said Blair could go home in a week or so.
Blair yawned, and leaned back into his nest of cushions. Jim had been babying him since he got home, fussing around like a mother hen. Even though he couldn't get his mind around what had happened yet, Blair knew something was different between them.
Jim stood in the doorway of Sandburg's room and watched him sleep, a tea tray forgotten in his hands. He hadn't dreamed once since Sandburg had come out of the coma, at least not that he remembered. He turned to go, but stopped when he heard his guide's sleepy voice.
"What's that?"
"Just some tea." Jim brought the tray over to Sandburg's nightstand and set it down. "Want some milk in there? How about sugar? I've got that natural stuff you're always going on about…"
"Jim." Blair touched his friend's arm, stopping his jerky movements. "Jim, thank you."
Ellison froze, then straightened and backed up a few steps. "Yeah, well, it's just tea."
"That's not what I meant, man." Blair sounded exasperated. "I've been thinking, and… well, I've been thinking. We both said some pretty harsh things, I did something that hurt your trust in me, and I'm sorry."
Jim flinched, and looked away for a moment. When he looked back there was a suspicious wetness in his eyes. "No, Chief, I let you down. I let the rival sentinel thing mess me up and I let you down. I need… I mean you..." Suddenly, he bent down and enveloped Sandburg in a fierce hug, letting the gesture say what he couldn't find the words for. Blair returned the hug, feeling that maybe everything was going to be all right after all.
~~fini~~
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