A groan escaped his lips for the second time in forty-eight hours as Jim Ellison awoke to pain. This time, however, it wasn't the dull aching he had experienced after regaining consciousness following the plane crash. This time the pain was sharp and defined, originating in his left leg. He clinched his teeth as another wave of agony rolled over him.

*God, it hurt. What had hit him?*

The last thing he remembered was thunder pounding in his head just before everything faded away into darkness.

He forced his eyes open in an attempt to look around. It was still dark, but at least the lightening from the storm was not as bad now and as he listened he could tell it had moved on to the distance. However, the light rain that was falling now carried a chill.

Jim shivered and wondered what had happened to Blair. His partner would be colder now also. Blair hated the cold.

Jim listened for the younger man's heart beat. His own heart rate increased when his search proved futile. In a burst of panic he pushed himself upright, shoving away the stray pieces of lumber that lay across his body. Pain flared from his leg again but he relegated it to the back of his mind. He had to find Sandburg.

He remembered hearing him cry out as the roof was falling in. He'd been hit by one of beams from the ceiling. Jim cursed under his breath as he realized that his own injury was interfering with his concentration. He shivered and forced himself to calm down. He had to find his partner.

*Concentrate, Jim. You can do this, man.*

Ellison jumped, startled, and looked around in the near total darkness for the source of the voice he had heard. It had been Blair's voice. He listened again. This time he was able to focus and realized the voice had been in his head.

He listened a moment more, then his breath quickened as he found the soft rhythm of another heart.

Sandburg.

Even though Jim couldn't see Blair, he could tell his partner was unconscious from the slowed rate. He stared into the darkness, opening his eyesight to its fullest potential to search.

The shelter they had sought during the height of the storm was now nearly nonexistent. The floor of the building where he lay was littered with fallen timbers scattered about in haphazard formation. His hearing led him to a pile nearest him. He focused his eyesight on the mound of debris and finally spotted Blair's jacket.

Jim pulled himself to the limp body, heedless of the pain in his leg that continued to slow him down.

Blair had fallen just out of arms reach, but now the distance seemed much greater. Gasping for breath, Jim removed several timbers that lay across his friend's body then paused long enough to visualize the imaginary dials Blair had taught him to use in controlling the agonizing pain. He turned them to their lowest setting, then began carefully removing the final lengths of wood from atop the unresponsive man.

A sense of deja vu hit Jim as he realized this was also the second time in two days he had removed debris from Blair's body. Jim tossed the last of the pieces of the rafters aside, then ran sensitive fingers across his partner's form. More bruising, some of it severe, but still nothing was broken. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they'd still be able to get out of this.

"Sandburg," he coaxed.

Jim waited a moment then gently shook the younger man again, "Sandburg. Wake up." He waited as he felt Blair's body tense with returning consciousness. "Come on, buddy. Wake up."

* * * *

From what seemed like a million miles away, Blair heard his name being called. He wanted desperately to remain in the soothing darkness he'd found himself in. A part of him remember that what waited him beyond the quiet was a body pushed to exhaustion and the ache of constant cold. It was much nicer here, wherever it was he happened to be at the moment. He smiled to himself, enjoying the warmth and comfort he felt.

He fought the reawakening but couldn't stop it. Something in the voice that kept calling him demanded he obey its instructions. Instructions? Not really. More of a plea. The voice was becoming more familiar now. Jim? Yes. That was Jim's voice. Jim was calling him, telling him to wake up. He couldn't ignore that. When he was with Jim he was supposed to obey him. Simon had said so. That was one of the conditions he'd had to agree to before they let him become an observer. If Jim said jump, he asked how high. Jim said to wake up. He had to, there was no choice now.

* * * *

Jim watched as his partner pulled himself toward consciousness. "That's it, Chief. Come on. Wake up." He lifted Blair's head toward him and ran gentle fingers across his forehead and through the tangled mass of wet curls. He felt warm stickiness and pulled his hand back to reveal fresh blood. Quickly, he checked his young partner's head and found a large swelling along the left side. Apparently one of the pieces of rafter had hit pretty solidly along the same side of Blair's head that had been struck during the airplane crash.

Blair's body jerked as he dragged himself through the last of the fog clouding his mind.

"Easy, Chief," Jim soothed, holding down the pain in his leg and placing a hand on Blair's chest to keep him from rising. He didn't want any rash movements until he was more sure of the anthropologist's condition.

Blair moaned and raised a hand to his head. "Jim?" His voice was weak.

"I'm here, buddy. Just take it easy."

"Oww...what happened?" he asked, trying again to rise.

"Lie still, Sandburg," the cop said firmly.

"What.....?"

"I said lie still."

Jim moved himself carefully until he could look into the younger man's eyes and tried desperately not to aggravate the pain emanating from his leg. "Have you still got your lighter?" he asked, patting down the pocket of Blair's jacket and grunting in satisfaction when he found it.

"Jim...you're scaring...me here. Wha....what is it? What's going on?"

Ellison flicked the lighter into a flame and held it away from his partner's face. Although he didn't need the help of the lighter to see in the darkness, he did need it to gauge the reaction of Blair's pupils to light. "Look at me," he ordered. He knew his voice sounded angry but the effort of keeping the pain in his leg at bay was wearing his temper thin. He'd make time later to answer questions and apologize.

Blair winced as the lighter kicked into life. His head was pounding and the sudden light, however faint, didn't make matter any better. Nervously, his eyes jumped from the flickering light to Jim's shadowy face.

"Wh..what?" he started to ask but even in the dim light he saw a familiar look on his partner's face. Jim was not ready to be questioned. Now was the time to obey.

After a few moments of moving the light back and forth, Jim shut it off. The reaction time was a little slow but there was really nothing they could do about it now. Jim would just have to watch him closely until they could reach help.

Help. Damn. Jim leaned away from Blair and closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. He'd practically forgotten why they were out here in the first place. He couldn't believe that Whittaker and his people had slipped his mind, even for a moment. He reached down to grip his leg as another wave of pain rolled past his imaginary dial. What were they going to do now?

"Uh....Jim?" Blair's voice was soft in the darkness, almost timid, "Can...can I get up now?"

Ellison smiled and wondered if Blair realized that their situation had just taken a nasty turn toward the dark side of the force. Probably not yet, he mused. The younger man still sounded dazed.

"Yeah." He reached out a hand to offer assistance as Blair pulled himself to a sitting position. Jim felt him sway, "Slowly," he cautioned.

"Whoa," the younger man reached out blindly to grasped at Jim outstretched hand and felt himself being steadied.

"Okay?" Jim asked, peering through the darkness at his partner as he placed his other hand on Blair's shoulder.

"Uh...yeah. That was just a little too quick."

"Just take it slow and easy for a bit. Do you hurt anywhere else?" Although Jim had check for broken bones he hadn't been able to ascertain whether or not Blair had sustained any internal injuries.

"No," came the answer, "Nothing too outstanding. Just kind of all over. But my head is killing me."

Jim nodded, lightly touching the swelling on the young man's head. "I'll just bet it is."

After a moment Blair spoke up. "How about you?"

Jim thought about it before he answered. How much did he want to tell Sandburg at this point? The young man had enough to worry about as it was, but still....he did have the right to know where they stood. "I...ah...I've got a little problem with my leg."

In the darkness Jim heard Blair stiffen then slowly make his way to him.

"What is it, Jim?"

The injury was making itself known again. "It...," he hissed in pain, "it's not too bad."

"What?" Blair voice was rising in fear and frustration.

"My leg."

Blair felt a small pang of relief. At least they were getting somewhere now. He moved forward in the dark, reaching out to touch Jim's leg.

"Is it broken?"

Blair heard his intake of breath and knew Jim winced when his hands located the injury.

"Sorry, man," he apologized.

Jim gritted his teeth, biting down as his partner continued.

"Where's that lighter, Jim?"

The detective held it out before he remembered his partner didn't have the advantage of sentinel eyesight. He held his breath against the unintentional pain Blair was causing him and placed the lighter in the outstretched hand.

Jim blinked against the sudden brightness as the anthropologist directed the flame's light to his leg.

Blair knew there wasn't much he would be able to do for Jim until daylight when he could see the wound but he wanted to make sure his partner was not going to bleed to death before he could properly bandage the leg. He apologized again as he pulled back the torn edges of the denim jeans from Jim's knee. He knew his actions were causing more pain but he had to check the damage for himself. Blair knew Jim would downplay his injury if he thought it would endanger them.

Through the faint light he could see there wasn't much blood. The knee area was swollen and there was one deep gash just below Jim's kneecap but the bleeding had already ceased. Blair closed his eyes in a moment of fervent thanks. If the injury had been more severe, Jim could have bleed to death before they knew it.

As tenderly as possible he continued his exploration. Just below the gash his fingers felt an odd deformity. Gently he touched the area and jumped when Jim cried, losing the lighter in the process.

Blair recovered quickly. "Oh God. I'm sorry, man," he babbled, reaching up to grip Jim's arm.

After a moment to regain his breath, the sentinel waved down his fears.

"It's okay, Chief. Just....just take it easy. Okay?" Jim tried to offer the young man a smile of reassurance. It fell horribly flat.

Blair took a deep breath, fighting down a wave of dizziness and nausea, before moving cautiously back into position beside Jim's leg.. He couldn't tell if the bone was broken or if there was damage to the ligament or cartilage. Either way, the leg had to be immobilized.

Working blind was not an easy task but half an hour later, Blair had managed to clean and wrap the wound. Jim protested when Blair took off his shirt and ripped it into appropriate lengths to secure the splint to his leg.

"You're going to freeze," he said.

Blair snorted and continued with his task. "I don't think one shirt is going to make that much difference. Besides...Mom...I still have my t-shirt and jacket. Okay?"

Jim lightly cuffed the back of his head, "Smart ass."

Blair winced at the light tap. His head was still hurting, but he had to ignore it for the present time. Jim needed him. He flashed a grin for the older man's benefit and finished tying the last of the strips of cloth. He knew his partner was hurting too, but it felt good to hear the amusement in the Jim's voice. Finally, satisfied with the results until daylight, he set about making his partner comfortable.

Their clothes were wet and Blair could feel his teeth beginning to chatter. He bit down hard in an effort to keep the sentinel from hearing. The last thing he needed right now was his blessed protector worrying about him catching a chill.

Jim had remained quiet during the bandaging, but by the time it was completed, beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead. Blair was certain this couldn't be good for the injured man. They needed to get a fire started and get warm.

He tried to peer around what remained of the building but gave up after a few moments. Clouds still hung heavy in the sky, obliterating even the faint light that might have been given off by the moon and stars. It was still pitch black to Blair and once again he found himself wishing for Jim's sentinel eyesight, just for a while.

He started to rise.

"Where are you going?"

Blair jumped as he felt Jim's hand clamp down on his arm. It took a moment for him to regain control of his racing heart. "Jeez, Jim. Don't do that. I just thought I'd check the other buildings to see if they're in any better shape than this one. We need to do something about getting warm. And..." he paused to look toward what remained of the ceiling, "we don't know if the rest of this place is coming down or not."

Jim had been worried that Blair's mind would follow that line. During the two years they had been partners it was usually Jim who was in control and playing the part of the 'blessed protector'. Blair's role was usually in the guise of teacher or instructor. When they had run up against dangerous elements, Jim had always stepped forward without asking or question to take command. Blair had never seemed to mind, in fact, he had seemed more than willing to let Jim handle the situations. After all, dealing with criminals was Jim's world.

But now the blessed protector was injured and it was going to be up to the young teacher to keep the sentinel safe until he was able to function at full capacity again.

Releasing control of his welfare was not an easy thing for Jim Ellison, and there was no one, with the exception of his partner, that Jim would have done so willingly.

But even letting go had it's limits.

He knew Sandburg couldn't see enough through the darkness to maneuver with any degree of certainty. He also knew Blair wasn't telling him the entire truth about how he was feeling. Jim had picked up the sudden increase in heart beat and respiration in his friend a couple of times since he had regained consciousness. He was holding back, again.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Chief."

Blair settled back on his heels. "Why not?"

Jim stared at him through the darkness. "How far can you see in front of you right now?"

"What?"

"You heard me. How far can you see in front of you right now?"

Blair paused, his suspicions running high as he tried to reason out Jim's line of questioning.

"I can see...."

"Can you see my hand?" Jim interrupted.

Blair concentrated, trying to see any shape or outline that would indicate the location of Jim's hand. He knew if he wasn't able to see the upheld hand, Jim would never let him get away to search for better shelter. After long moments, the image of a dark mass coalesced before his eyes. He smiled at his success. "Yes," he answered with a new confidence. "I see it."

Jim exhaled, "Sit down, Sandburg. You're not going anywhere."

"But...I don't underst...."

"I'm not holding up a hand." Jim's voice was steady and held no accusation.

Blair sat in stunned silence, trying to reason out Jim's deception. He had seen the dark shape of a hand. Hadn't he? He frowned, trying to bring back the image that had been before him. Hadn't that been Jim's fist he'd seen through the darkness? Or had he wanted to see so badly he had imagined it. He sighed in weariness. Maybe he hadn't seen anything. He knew from the psych classes he'd taken that during times of stress, people were apt to see a lot of things, real and imaginary. He hung his head. If he couldn't see it would be foolhardy on his part to go stumbling around in the dark in unfamiliar territory.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I..."

As if reading his thoughts, the older man quieted him. "It's alright, Chief. You believed you saw it. Nothing else matters."

"But it does matter Jim. I didn't..."

"Blair. I know you were telling the truth," he reached to clasp the younger man's forearm in a secure grip, giving it a gentle shake. "The human lie detector. Remember?" Even though he knew it couldn't be seen through the darkness, he sent Blair a reassuring smile and after a moment he felt the muscles in the arm beneath his fingers relax slightly. He knew his partner had believed he had seen something. Jim had been around him long enough and in enough different situations to be able to distinguish the differences in Blair's heartbeat when he was being less than completely truthful with him. It was a skill that had come in quite handy during their partnership. He just hoped the young scientist never learned how to control the rhythm of his heart.

"I could use the lighter," Blair offered. "It would help some."

"Not enough it wouldn't. You'd be stumbling around out there in the dark and..." he paused to make sure there was a teasing quality in his voice, "I'm not in any condition to get you out of trouble right now." Jim paused until he was certain his friend understood the remark was made with affection. "We can wait here for the rest of the night. I don't think the rest of the room is coming down any time soon."

He unconsciously held his breath when Blair was silent for a moment before answering, "Can we at least stay up against the wall until daylight? It's still a couple of hours off."

Jim smiled at the tone of concern he heard in the question. Blair was willing to acquiesce to his instructions but the younger man still felt a responsibility to protect the sentinel. As much as Jim was Blair's 'blessed protector', in much the same way, Blair was his. And it was a role the young man fulfilled with all his heart.

"Yeah," he said, beginning to ease himself toward the wall. "We can do that."

Jim felt his partner's hands come around his chest from behind and assist him to their new location.

He had expected pain to accompany his movements but since Blair had bandaged and immobilized his leg, the pain had lessened dramatically. Hopefully, he'd be able to move on it by morning. Whittaker and his people couldn't be very far behind them by now.

He frowned with worry, grateful the night hid his concern. If he couldn't move by daylight, he'd have to get Blair to go for help and that was not going to be an easy task. Jim knew he'd have better luck getting the wind to cease blowing than getting Blair to leave him. He'd have to think of something.

However, it could wait until daylight. Right now they both needed rest. He settled against the wall as Blair placed his backpack under the injured leg then settle next to him. They were both tired, cold and hurting.

Jim scooted himself closer to his partner at the same time he reached for the pack he'd been carrying.

"What're you doing?" Blair asked.

He pulled the tarp from the pack and shook it out. "This thing may not be wool but it might help us maintain a little body heat," he draped the nylon cover over them both, "Get over here close." Jim slipped his arm around Blair's shoulders and felt the younger man shivering. "Cold?"

Blair nodded and moved himself as close to his partner as possible, "Y..yes. I didn't realize it until now."

Jim knew the adrenaline they had both been operating on was fading away. When he'd turned down the imaginary dial to control his pain, he'd also reduced his sensitivity to the cold. Blair had been unable to do that and was now feeling the chill. Jim rubbed his partner's arms briskly to create a bit of friction. "Any better?" He felt Blair's head nodding against the side of his shoulder.

"Yeah. A little."

"Good. We'll rest until daylight then see what we can do about getting out of here." He felt Blair's head nod again as his breathing evened out. Jim smiled. Cold, wet, hurt and hunted by killers, the younger man still felt secure enough with Jim around to fall asleep. He knew exhaustion played a large part in it but Jim couldn't help feeling it was also a matter of trust. Blair trusted him as much as he trusted Blair.

Jim relaxed and settled back as best he could, easing his leg to a more comfortable position. He needed a few hours sleep too.

* * * *

It was still an hour before the sun would be up but Thompson already had his people in route. The storm had passed several hours ago but it had taken until now to complete the preparations. Simon was once again traveling with the Federal Agent in the lead jeep.

Their route was marked along the old logging road. Simon prayed that when Ellison and Sandburg reached the road they would stick to it for speed instead of taking the shorter, rougher route across the mountain.

* * * *

Morning sunlight broke over the eastern ridge but did little for warmth. The temperature hadn't dropped as much as Jim had feared it would, but it was still a cool morning. They were fortunate the warm summer weather had lasted as long as it had this year. He silently thanked God it wasn't a month from now and shivered at the thought of October in these mountains.

Jim had awakened a short time ago and after a few moments to orient himself he had stared in wonder at the destruction that lay before him. Although he had been able to see it during the night with his enhanced vision, it still chilled him in the daylight.

There was little left of the building he and Blair had taken refuge in the previous night. The back wall had tumbled in on itself when the ceiling had collapsed. The two side walls were still partially standing but the back portion was no longer attached to a roof. The center of the building was littered with fallen debris and Jim was amazed that he and Blair had survived the collapse with as few injuries as they had sustained. The wall they were sheltered against and the stretch of roof it was attached to were all that remained of the structure.

Jim shifted uncomfortably and felt a twinge of pain radiate from the wound in his leg. His butt had long ago gone numb but he was still hesitant to move much. Each time he did, it increased the pain.

He felt movement and looked down at the shaggy head leaning against his shoulder. His partner was once again sleeping.

Even being able to turn down the imaginary dials, the pain had been a constant companion for Jim during the night making it impossible for him to sleep completely. Instead he had used the opportunity to wake Blair every few hours. The younger man had responded slowly throughout the night, a sure sign he was suffering from a head injury, however slight.

Now that the sun was rising, they would have to be on the move once more and he wanted the kid to rest a little longer.

Jim smiled inwardly. He caught himself referring to Sandburg as a 'kid' again. He couldn't help it. It was a nickname his partner had become tolerant of since beginning his work with Jim at the station. A good thing too, since it was used by just about every one of the other cops in Major Crimes. It wasn't so much his age as his appearance and the child-like enthusiasm he displayed for his work and the world in general. Sandburg had an innocence about him and was constantly able to find new angles and new perspectives on cases that Jim and the other cops had become to hard-boiled to visualize or were slower to see. At times Jim worried about the darker side of his work affecting that innocence. He treasured the friendship that had sprung between the two of them and didn't want to see Sandburg changed. He grinned to himself. Maybe keyed down a little bit, but not changed. If nothing else he was sure Simon Banks would appreciate it. Blair's attitude was infectious and at times that made it difficult for the stern Captain to maintain his illusion of annoyed tolerance toward the hyperactive collage student.

In truth, there wasn't one of the cops in the entire Major Crimes Unit, including Simon, that hadn't been affected by the non-stop ball of energy that had become Jim's partner. He might have been viewed as the pesky little brother that tagged along with the big kids but they each knew he contributed more than his share to the department.

Jim turned his attention back to the debris that littered the floor of the crumbled building before him. Timbers lay everywhere from the caved-in roof. He and Blair had been more than a little lucky they hadn't been more seriously injured when it had given way.

He shifted again and thought about revising his opinion of their luck. His leg didn't feel like it was going to last long for walking today and with Whittaker and his people on their trail their 'not serious injuries' could prove fatal.

Jim frowned as he felt Blair begin to move beside him. If he was unable to get very far today, he wanted to think of something to convince his partner to leave him and go for help. A task he wasn't looking forward to.

First of all, his partner was injured. Blair wasn't about to admit it but Jim knew the signs all too well. The younger man was suffering from a concussion. Second, Jim smiled to himself, the anthropologist was one of the most stubborn people he'd ever met in his life. If Blair believed in something, not even an act of congress would sway him. And Jim knew his partner would not believe that leaving his injured sentinel was the logical thing to do. As much as Jim wanted to convince the younger man it was right, he knew that had the circumstances been reversed, there was no way Jim would have left Blair.

He shifted again and felt Blair's head sag further against his arm before jerking slightly in prelude to waking up.

Jim monitored his heart rate and waited while Blair fought his way back to wakefulness. "Hey, Chief," he greeted, after a few moments, "How're you feeling?"

As he watched, bleary eyes darted around their surroundings without focusing and the look on the pale and drawn face told Jim without words, that for the first few seconds of waking the younger man was trying to piece together where he was and what had happened.

Jim's concern grew as the seconds passed and Blair didn't answer him. He was still uncomfortable with the indications he'd picked up from his partner since the crash. Although he suspected his friend had suffered at least a slight concussion from the crash itself, with the rafters that had fallen on them during the night he felt certain a concussion was definite. He'd had trouble waking Blair during the night and even now, he was responding slowly.

Finally, awareness replaced the look of lost confusion and Jim breathed a little easier.

* * * *

Blair had heard Jim's question but he'd been totally confused about...everything... for a few moments. His brain was refusing to function and for the space of a heartbeat he thought he must have really been drunk the previous night. His head ached, his body hurt and he had no memory of where he was or what had happened. He'd just decided that coffee would be a really good idea when everything fell back into place. The plane crash, Whittaker, the storm, the roof caving in...

*Jim!*

His eyes grew wide as he remembered Jim had been hurt during the storm. He blinked to clear his vision before looking up into the face of his friend.

"I'm fine," he said a little too quickly, "How about you? How's the leg?"

Blair looked down at the bandaged leg, holding his breath as he felt Jim's eyes on him.

It was long seconds before the older man replied. "It's better, I think. Doesn't hurt as much this morning."

Blair pushed himself to his knees and bent over Jim's outstretched leg. He could still feel the sentinel's eyes following him as he began inspecting the injury.

It always made him nervous when someone was watching him but when Jim watched...

Blair knew his partner could hear his heart racing. Jim had probably heard it as soon as he'd awakened to that brief period of disorientation. It had been a disturbing feeling until memory had returned. Then he had realized the dizziness he felt and the fuzziness around the edges of his vision were probably signs of a concussion. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced the unpleasant feeling. But this time Jim was hurt and he didn't need to be worrying about Blair. Besides, the anthropologist told himself, this would pass after a time. It had before. He was good at verbal slight-of-hand, he'd just divert Jim's attention.

He continued his examination, nodding approval and keeping up a running dialog, "Good. That's good," he said with satisfaction as he saw the bandaging hadn't been a bad job considering he'd done it in the dark. "It's not bleeding," he replaced the strip of shirt he'd used and sat back, "Think you'll be able to walk on it?"

Jim hadn't missed the diversion from his own condition Blair had used. He narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling a hint of anger and frustration toward his partner. Blair would downplay his injuries if he thought he was endangering them further. Jim knew from experience he'd done it in the past. He couldn't help but remember their trek through the woods to rescue Simon during the Quinn ordeal. When he and Blair had jumped from the cliff, Sandburg had cracked his head on a rock then had continued with a head injury, never uttering a complaint until he couldn't go any further. Jim still felt his insides chill every time he recalled the incident

Finally, he sighed in frustration. He needed cooperation from his partner, not obstacles to overcome. They were going to have enough of a problem if Whittaker caught up with them.

"Sandburg. Look at me." It was an order not a request but he didn't have time for Blair's rebelliousness now.

"What."

Jim held his temper in check at the curt response. "What aren't you telling me?"

He caught a side view as Blair frowned, but didn't look up. "Nothing, man."

"Sandburg."

With a flurry of motion, Blair pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly but trying to cover it by pulling the tarp they had used as a cover off the floor to began folding it. "Come on, Jim. Let's worry about getting out of here before Whittaker shows up. I don't know about you but I, for one, 'do not' want to wait here on him and his buddies." He finished with the nylon cover and shoved it back into Jim's pack, being careful to keep his eyes from meeting those of his partner.

Jim rubbed a grimy hand across his face in exasperation. It would be useless to argue with the stubborn man when he was in this mood. It had never worked before and it wouldn't work now. If Blair felt pushed, he would only withdraw further. Jim would let him put the conversation off for awhile but he intended to keep a close eye on him.

He grasped Blair's offered hand for assistance and carefully pushed himself up onto his good leg, not at all sure this was going to work. He adjusted his weight as his partner pulled his arm across his shoulders and used his legs to push them both to a standing position. Jim felt a tremor run through Blair's body at the exertion. He shook his head silently in wonder. His partner was stubborn to the end.

One step was all he managed. With the first hint of weight on the injured limb agony shot through his entire body and he collapsed back to the floor, taking Blair with him.

Both men lay still for long minutes, Jim hissing as he tried to bring the pain back under control and Blair looking more dazed with each passing minute.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim was finally able to ask between clinched teeth.

"I..ah...Yeah...Yeah, I'm okay," he paused then began pushing himself to a sitting position, "How about you?" he moved to Jim's side and began examining the wound again, "Did you.....Oh...Man..." Blair turned away, spotting and reaching for the rest of the shirt he had used for bandaging Jim's leg the previous evening.

"What?" Jim's voice was filled with pain as he tried to sit up.

Blair pushed him back, "Stay still. You've reopened the wound. It's bleeding again."

Jim eased himself back, leaning on his elbows as he fought to regain control of the pain. He was amazed at how fast the exercise worked this time and wondered briefly if it had anything to do with Sandburg hovering over him. He watched the play of emotions cross the face of his partner. "How bad?"

"Not to bad actually. I think I've got it stopped again but...."

"But what?"

Blair shot him a look of slight irritation. "I can't tell if it's broken or not." He sat back on his heels and looked at Jim. "How's the pain? Got it under control?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. I have now." He noticed a strange look cross his partner's face. "Why. What are you thinking?"

"If you've got the pain under control, why don't you use your touch to see if it's broken. Just to make sure I don't need to splint it a little tighter or brace it better."

Jim looked doubtful, "I don't know, Chief. I've never tried that on myself."

Blair shrugged his shoulders, "Come on. You use your touch on me all the time. Remember when I thought I'd broken my arm last winter? One touch and you knew it wasn't." He nodded, indicating Jim's leg. "Go ahead. Try it."

Jim looked thoughtful for a moment then shrugged. "Why not."

Blair watched with anxious eyes as the sentinel explored the area around the gash in his leg. Finally he sat back and nodded satisfaction. "It's not broken but it feels...funny...like something is loose inside. A ligament or maybe a tendon."

A disgusted look appeared on the younger man's face. "Yuck."

Jim's smile at his partner's response. "Yeah, yuck," he said then frowned. This was not good. If he couldn't walk, their chances of survival were reduced even further. He contemplated their options as Blair sat back and heaved a sigh. Jim recalled the second helicopter the day of the crash. Had that been Simon he had seen? If so, then the captain wouldn't be far behind Whittaker. But, how far? And would he be close enough to aid them? What if it hadn't been Simon?

Jim rubbed at a growing headache he felt building behind his eyes. There were too many variables. They knew Whittaker was closing in. His and Blair's plan before had been to keep ahead of the thieves and reach help. Jim silently cursed this turn of events and watched Blair in concern. A familiar tingle had started at the back of his neck, the instinctive need to protect his partner was gathering strength.

* * * *

Blair continued to stare at Jim's leg without seeing it. His entire field of vision was alternately blurring and clearing, making his stomach roll. He felt his heart beat increase and prayed that Jim would think it was due to the stress of their situation.

There were times when there were disadvantages to living with the sentinel. Jim's natural protectiveness towards him sometimes took precedence over everything else. Despite that fact Blair couldn't deny it felt good. It was a comforting feeling to know that someone cared about him that much. He knew Naomi loved him and he loved her, but there was a closeness that he and Jim shared that he'd never achieved with his mother. He had decided it probably had something to do with their sentinel connection.

But now, Jim was hurt and it was the sentinel who needed protecting. Regardless of his own injuries, Blair had to make certain Jim's focus remained on their survival. What ever was wrong with Blair would have to wait until later to be dealt with.

"Okay," he said finally, "walking's out. Now what?"

Blair didn't realize he'd spoken aloud.

Jim watched his friend for a moment. He knew Blair was covering. If nothing else, he'd have known it by the way he refused to meet his eyes. "We need a plan," Jim said finally and watched as the younger man's movements indicated he was already trying to formulate a plan for them.

"Can you hear them yet?"

Jim paused and concentrated his hearing. He filtered out the more pleasant sounds of the mountain morning, searching for signs of their pursuers.

After a short time he shook his head. "No. They were probably held up by the same storm."

"Good. That'll give us a little more time. Now..." Blair turned way and let his eyes wander over the entire area. His vision was thankfully clearing at the moment but the dizziness wasn't abating. He blinked and forced himself to his feet as his mind continued to race for solutions.

After a moment he spotted a bundle among the fallen timbers just to their left. It took a few

minutes but he was finally able to untangle a coiled length of rope and held it up proudly for Jim to see.

"What are you planning?" the cop asked suspiciously.

"I found some rope," he stated needlessly, grinning in triumph.

Jim watched him carefully, "Yeah. It's rope. That still doesn't tell me what you're planning to do with it."

Blair turned and pulled at two long pieces of two-by-fours as he began. "The Native American Indians usually had two camps, one for summer and a different one for winter. When it was time to move from one to the other they would use a travois," he explained as he continued wrestling with the boards. "Do you know, they could pack everything they owned, including their tepees in less than an hour and be on their way?" Blair's speech was delivered with rapid intensity, punctuated with grunts as he loosened the boards. "After they'd gone, you'd never know they'd been there. It was really amazing. They usually used horses to pull these things but sometimes the women....."

Jim put a hand on the grad student's arm to halt his culture lecture. "Sandburg. What do you think you're doing?" His voice was filled with dawning suspicion.

The younger man looked at the rope in his hand in confusion. He'd thought it was obvious. "I'm going to make a travois and pull you. It should be easy, now that we've reached the road."

Jim looked at him incredulously. He had suspected what Blair was planning but actually hearing the words...he couldn't believe it. What was the kid thinking? Jim outweighed his partner by at least fifty pounds and the logging road Blair was talking about that they had reached was little more than a washed-out, rutted pathway through the woods. And to top off everything else, Jim had no doubt Blair was suffering from a concussion. He was in no shape to pull anyone, anywhere.

"You can't pull me off this mountain."

To his surprise, Blair grinned cheekily at him. "Maybe not, but you gotta give me credit for trying," he said, beginning to fashion a harness for himself.

Jim's face turned into a stern mask, "Sandburg," he said forcibly, "I'm not joking here."

Blair looked up at him, his eyes beginning to grow dark with determination. He knew Jim was serious, but he also knew he had to convince his partner of this necessity. There wasn't any other choice. He had to convince Jim not to fight him on this. "Look, Jim. I know this sounds crazy, man, but if you've got a better idea, I'm ready to listen."

He saw a hint of a smile cross Jim's face. The man thought he was giving in. "Good. You've got to leave me and go for..."

Sandburg's temper flared. "I said better, Jim. That doesn't sound better to me."

"Dammit, Blair."

"Don't 'Dammit, Blair' me," he shouted, rising to stand over Jim to emphasize his point. It wasn't often he was able to tower over the bigger man and he meant to take advantage of the opportunity. Fear for his partner, misery at his own injury and a desperate need to help, all combined in a heated flash of anger. Blair was determined to hold his ground. "I'm not leaving you," he stated forcibly, then took a deep breath to control the unaccustomed anger he felt.

"Blair. Listen..." Jim was trying equally hard to control his own anger.

"No. You listen." The anthropologist paused to calm himself before he continued in a steadier voice. "You want me to leave you and go for help."

"Yes. I do." Jim answered quickly.

Blair stopped all motion and stared intently at his partner. "If it was me? Would you go? Would you even consider going?" He waited only brief seconds before continuing. "Jim, man, I'm not stupid. I know it's not going to be easy but I also know that if they find you, and they surely will if I leave you here alone, they'll kill you. It's that simple. They've already found our trail so they know there are two of us. You said yourself they've already killed for these diamonds. One or two more bodies isn't going to make a difference to them," he paused for breath. The look on Jim's face told him the cop was still not convinced. "You tell me what choice we have? Do we stay here with your lone gun against at least three killers with God knows how much armament? I don't think so, Jim." Blair paused again briefly for breath, "Now. I may *not* be able to pull you off this mountain, but I *am* going to build this travois and I *am* going to try. You can either continue to fight me or you can speed things up and help me, but either way, I am...going...to...do...it."

Jim stared into the angry blue eyes of his partner for a moment in shock. He and Blair had argued off and on from their first meeting. He knew the kid was prone to taking chances on Jim's behalf, but he couldn't remember hearing this much determination in the young man's voice, not even during their rescue of Simon and Darryl Banks in Peru last year. Jim recalled that Blair had used the same tone of voice when he had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was jumping out of the plane with him. He knew Blair was one of the most stubborn individuals he'd ever met but until this moment he hadn't realized the depth of his friend's commitment to his role as Jim's partner or his devotion to him.

He shook his head. There were times when Blair could surprise him to no end. Sandburg had a will made of iron when he needed it and seeing the determination on the incredibly young looking face, he realized it was no wonder people continually misjudged his partner.

Blair watched as Jim worked through the conflicting emotions. Despite his determination to stand firm, he felt a stab of guilt when a look of profound sadness crossed the sentinel's face. He knew it was hard for the cop not to be in control of a situation but he also knew Jim was no fool. They both knew Jim's lone gun was not going to be enough to stop the killers on their trail.

However, a little extra insurance never hurt and Blair wasn't above using a small amount of emotional blackmail if it meant saving his partner's life.

"Come on, Jim," he coaxed, "You've been my blessed protector for a while now. It's my turn to be yours."

Jim couldn't help but smile at that thought as he felt an immeasurable amount of pride in his young partner. He settled back against the wall and nodded as Blair began pulling together the items he'd need for the travois.

* * * *

Blair paused and rubbed once again at his eyes. The fuzziness he'd done his best to keep from Jim earlier was becoming more and more pronounced as he worked. After he'd begun putting the travois together, Jim had asked for help in moving to the outside of the tumbled down building with the excuse that he'd be able to lend a hand if Blair needed it.

Blair had complied, although the strain of supporting the larger man had cost him. As he had turned back to his work he had barely managed to keep from stumbling when a wave of dizziness overcame him. He'd been thankful that his heart had already been beating fast when it occurred. Jim would never have considered letting him go ahead with the scheme if he knew how truly weak Blair was feeling.

In fact, Blair was beginning to doubt his ability to pull off the stunt himself. The only thing that kept him going was knowing the alternative. If they didn't do something, they might as well plants themselves on the nearest log and wait for Whittaker to show up.

He had kept up his running lecture on the Native Americans in part to keep his mind occupied, but also he hoped to be able to distract Jim from focusing on his head injury. There simply was no choice in the matter. They had to keep going.

Blair tied the final piece of rope in his hand to the makeshift harness, then slipped it over his shoulders, settling it into place and trying it for comfort. The rope bit deep into his shoulders when he gave it an experimental pull. That was going to get uncomfortable pretty quick. He continued speaking as he began to look around for something he could use as padding.

With his vision growing dimmer he purposely avoided looking at Jim but knew his partner was leaned back against the wall. He had seen his eyes close a few moments before and let a faint smile cross his face. Whether he was asleep or not, at least Jim was resting.

Something that looked promising for padding caught Blair's eye to the west side of the building where Jim sat. He stepped around the corner of the building, heading for the object. A weathered piece of canvas lay across a stack of what looked like cut fire wood. It made sense. At the time the sawmill had been active, wood burning stoves would have been the major source of heat around, and Blair knew from his own camping experience that often firewood was covered to help keep it dry.

When he began to pull at portions of the canvas the rotting material gave way faster than he expected. Mold and bits of fiber floated upward into his face in a mini explosion. He tried to dodge the unexpected cloud, but in doing so, lost his balance and stumbled against the pile of wood. Flinging out an arm he caught himself just in time, then pushed himself back to both feet, only to stumble once more.

The dizziness was back and when he blinked to clear away the fuzzy images before him they only became worse. His heart skipped a beat as he realized he could no longer see anything but blurry shadows.

He froze in place, debating what his next move should be when all hell broke loose.

* * * *

Jim gave a start as he woke from a light doze. His heart pounded as he realized he had let his guard down. He shook his head to clear the sleep from his brain, silently cursing himself. How long had he been asleep? He glanced at his watch and realized it hadn't survived the caving in of the roof, but judging by the location of the sun, only a few minutes had passed.

Jim shifted his weight, trying for a more comfortable position with his braced leg. He stopped mid-motion as the movement reawaken the pain. Anger flared at his helplessness and it took a great deal of self-control to keep from bellowing out his frustration.

After a moment he listened and could hear Blair, just beyond his line of sight, speaking aloud, obviously for Jim's benefit. Blair's voice had lapsed into his lecture mode and was continuing with volumes of information on Native Americans and their culture.

Jim smiled as he realized that it had been the calming effect of Blair's voice combined with the warmth of the rising sun and the strenuous exercise of the past few days that had lull him into such a relaxed state that he'd fallen asleep. *Damn that kid was good.*

For probably the thousandth time he wondered how the offbeat graduate student had managed to work his way past the walls and barriers Jim had managed to erect around his life. Or for that matter, around his heart. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. In all honesty it didn't matter how, the fact was he had and the impotent feeling Jim was experiencing at being unable to fully protect the younger man was eating at his soul.

When they had first partnered, Jim had never planned for Blair to become as involved in police work as he had, but the anthropologist's aptitude and intelligence had helped bring more than one criminal to justice. He couldn't over look that fact. He was certain Blair had gotten much more than he had bargained for.

Jim heard Blair's speech falter for a moment and automatically expanded his focus of hearing to include the younger man's heart rate and breathing. His partner's heart was racing again and his breathing had become ragged. Jim narrowed his eyes. He knew both signs were further indications of the head injury Blair was trying to hide from him.

He felt anger rising again and knew it was directed toward several different directions. At Blair, for attempting to hide the injury, at circumstances in general for him being injured in the first place and at himself for his inability to do more for his injured partner. Reason told him he was doing the best he could under the circumstances, but his sense of responsibility told him otherwise.

Blair had been right, they didn't have the luxury of being able to hold up until help arrived. With Whittaker close behind them they....

Jim's face paled as his sensitive hearing picked up distant voices. He focused, filtering out the surrounding forest sounds.

*I can pick him off from here.*

*No! Not yet.*

*Why not? We have them both now and you said yourself the FBI couldn't be very far behind. Let's do it and get the hell out of here.*

Jim's heart pounded louder, almost overwhelming his efforts to hear the conversation.

Someone with a cultured voice and soft British accent sighed in exasperation.

*We don't know for certain that they still have the diamonds on them. Suppose they have decided to hide them along the way. I am not ready to chance ten million dollars to your impatient trigger finger, Morely.*

*Look, Whittaker. At least let me take care of one of them. We don't need both.*

*That, my friend, is where you're wrong. We may need one to use as leverage against the other.*

Jim could hear the cold sneer in the other man's voice.

*Alright, Whittaker. You win. This time.*

Jim shook his head to bring himself back to his present position. He couldn't let them sneak up on him and Sandburg. They were already too close. Their options had just run out. He drew his weapon and fired toward the thieves at the same moment he yelled.

"SANDBURG! GET DOWN!"

A series of wild shots sent splinters of wood flying from the wall Jim was propped against. Blair had helped him move out into the warmth of the sunshine as they had prepared the travois. Now, he scrambled unassisted back to the limited safety of the collapsed building, trying to ignore the agony generated from his leg.

Flat on his stomach, he leveled his gun in a two-fisted grip. Logic and an in-born sense of survival told him to locate the gunman, but a stronger sense drove him instead to search for his partner.

With a desperate, sinking feeling he listened, praying to hear Sandburg's heartbeat. Despite the conversation he had heard, the shots that had been fired in his direction had come perilously close. If Sandburg had been moving when the gunfire had begun, one of the shots aimed in his direction could have found its mark.

It took a moment to filter out the dying echos of the gunfire, but when he did Jim was rewarded with the frantic, familiar rhythm and immediately sent a silent thanks to what ever deity was looking out for the young anthropologist.

"Sandburg," he called softly. He could tell the kid was nearby. "Sandburg," he called more urgently.

"Jim?" Ellison heard the obvious relief in the wavering voice. "Oh god, man. I was sure they'd shot you."

"I'm fine. Were you hit?" He knew Whittaker didn't want them dead until he was sure he had the diamonds in hand, but with the younger man's heart-rate and breathing so erratic, it was hard to tell if the sniper had missed or not.

"Um...no, I wasn't."

Jim noted something besides fear evident in Blair's voice. "Chief? What is it?" He recalled the falter he had heard in his friend's voice and the sound of his ragged breathing only moments before the shooting. The seconds stretched in to an eternity until Jim found himself wishing he could get his hands on the reluctant student. "Talk to me."

"Um..I've got a little problem here, Jim."

Ellison's heart pounded in his chest as he reminded himself that Blair had said he hadn't been shot. "What is it?" he demanded.

"I...ah...I can't see, Jim."

"What?!"

"I can't see."

There was a catch in the kid's voice that Jim recognized as the beginnings of a panic attack.

*Dear God, what next?*

Jim took a couple of deep breaths. He had to make sure his voice was calm if he was going to be able to keep Sandburg calm. He closed his eyes and focused his hearing on Blair's heartbeat in order to visualize the younger man's location. He felt a slight twinge of relief as he pinpointed him just to the west side of the collapsed building. At least he was out of the line of fire for the moment. "Okay, Blair, stay where you are. I'll get you."

"Jim. You can't. Your leg."

Ellison smiled at his partner's continued concern in spite of his own condition.

"You let me worry about my leg. Just stay put." Jim paused to listen to his partner's reaction. "Did you hear me. Chief?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I heard, but I really don't think you should......"

"Sandburg. I said stay put. And don't worry about my leg."

"O...Okay."

Jim heard the soft acknowledgment just before a second volley of gunfire erupted from a line of trees only fifty feet away. He fired off two shots, hoping to discourage closer advancement by the killers, then dragged himself further into the shelter of the building and toward the wall where he could hear Blair.

A distant rumble caught his attention. The sounds were unmistakably the engine of a vehicle and it was coming from the opposite direction where the gunfire had originated. Was it Whittaker's reinforcement? Or help for Jim and Blair?

Jim scrambled faster to the wall. He had seen a section of the wall about ten feet back from where he had pinpointed Blair's position. Haphazard repairs had been done on rotted wood years before and with any luck he would be able to pry them lose.

The odds were strongly against them, but Jim would be damned before he'd let his partner -his friend- die alone and blind. If they were going to be killed, he could at least make sure they were together. And, if the noise he had heard to the west was Simon and help for them, then they needed to stall Whittaker a little longer.

No longer concerned with any additional damage done to his leg, Jim reached the wall and began tearing at the shoddy repair with bare hands.

His hearing immediately picked up the increase in Blair's heart before he realized his mistake in not informing the anthropologist of his intentions. "Blair. It's okay," he called through the wall, "It's only me."

With a final push at the remaining piece of board, Jim stuck his head and shoulders through the opening.

The sight that greeted him tugged at his heart. Sandburg was huddled against the side of the building, attempting to make himself as small a target as possible. The expressive face was pale in the morning light and the bruises along the left side of his head and face stood out in sharp contrast. The eyes that normally sparkled with life and a thirst for knowledge were fearful and wide beyond belief. "Chief. Come toward my voice."

Almost instantly, Blair scrambled toward him. Blindly groping the area before him in an obvious attempt to reach Jim.

Ellison grasped his hand as soon as it was within range and pulled the slighter man into the safety of the building. It wasn't much of a haven but it would give them a few minutes of leeway.

Once safely inside, Jim pulled his partner into a fierce hug and maneuvered them both to a position where Jim could keep his eye on the doorway toward the killers.

"You okay, buddy?" he asked, taking Blair's chin in his hand and forcing his head up for a better look into his eyes. When Blair remained silent, Jim shook him gently by the shoulders. "Hey?

You okay?"

Slowly, as if coming out of a fog, Blair nodded. "I think so," he said hesitantly.

Jim continued to check his eyes and used one hand to lightly touch the injured area of his head. "Sorry," he said when Blair winced, "Can you see anything at all, Chief?" he asked.

"I can see points of light but mostly, everything is dark."

Jim continued to explore the injury, detecting a large swelling along the side of his forehead. Hopefully, the loss of sight was due to that swelling and should return as soon as the swelling was reduced. *It had to.*

Another round of gunfire erupted, closer still. Jim wrapped one arm around Blair's shoulders with a short warning before firing at one of the gunmen he could now see beginning to approach. The man went down with a bullet in his heart.

"Jim. What're we gonna do?"

Sightless eyes flicked back and forth, as if trying to see beyond their uselessness. Jim snapped off another shot at a figure he saw gaining the courage to begin advancement.

Things were definitely coming to a head. Whittaker's people were becoming more bold and Jim had heard multiple engines coming up the logging road from the west. Another assault was launched from Wittaker's people, peppering the old building with gunfire, forcing Jim to shut down his hearing once again and effectively keeping he and Blair pinned down as the killers advanced.

With an eye toward the east and having to keep his hearing tuned down to prevent the thunder of gunfire from deafening him, Jim suddenly realized he had lost track of the approaching vehicles. If what he had heard wasn't help for he and Blair, he vowed to take out as many of them as possible.

He had briefly entertained the idea of tossing the diamonds out to Whittaker as a diversion, but had squelched it when he realized the diamonds were the only thing keeping he and Blair alive. Once Whittaker had the diamonds, he'd have no further use for either of them.

Jim could feel Blair's body trembling and knew it was taking a monumental effort by his partner to maintain his hold on reality. Blair was one of the most resourceful individuals Jim had ever known, but this was too much for even the most capable of persons. Being shot at was bad enough, but not being able to see what was going on....

The situation seemed hopeless. Jim was crippled and couldn't make a run for it, Blair was blind and couldn't see to make a run for, Whittaker's killers were coming at them from the east and unknowns were approaching from the west.

"Jim?" Blair's soft voice came from beside him.

"Yeah, buddy. What is it?" Jim's eyes flicked quickly down to his partner then back to the doorway.

"We're trapped, aren't we?"

Ellison swallowed hard before answering. He hated the note of resignation he heard in Sandburg's voice but he knew this was not the time for sugar-coating. "It's not looking good," he admitted taking a deep breath.

A faint whiff of a familiar odor tickled Jim's nose. He sniffed again and felt the first ray of true hope since the plane had crashed.

*Cigars!*

"I was afraid of that.....," Blair continued.

Jim placed a comforting hand on Blair's shoulder to quiet him and let a smile fill his voice. "Don't write us off yet, Chief. I think the calvary's just arrived."

"What?"

"Shhhh...hold on a minute."

Keeping his body between Blair and the open doorway, Jim turned enough to see shadows cross the opening he had created for the young man to crawl through a short time ago.

"Jim?!"

A smile spread across the sentinel's face. "Simon!" he called. "We're here. Inside the building."

Jim heard the relief flood his captain's voice with the whispered, "Thank God."

* * * *

Simon had eased himself to the edge of the building and held his position. Waiting.

When he and the FBI agents had neared the area of the abandoned sawmill and heard the automatic gunfire, Thompson had given the order to leave the vehicles and proceed on foot. So far, they had the advantage of surprise and Thompson had decided to use it in their favor. They had crested the rise surrounding the area during a third burst of gunfire and Thompson had given the order to surround the shooters.

Simon had volunteered to make his way to Jim and Blair. Although he had not yet seen the two, the concentration of fire on the largest of the abandoned buildings led him to them in short order. When he heard the twin explosions of Ellison's handgun, he knew he had the correct place. He stealthy made his way to the building, sliding past a ragged opening to the front edge facing the snipers. A careful peek around the corner had assured him the gunfire was still aimed at the old building. He had nearly jumped out of his skin when Ellison had called to him, then after his whispered thanks, he had scooted himself back to the hole in the side of wall he had passed earlier.

He stuck his head and shoulders into the opening, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior. What he saw made his stomach clinch.

Besides the fact that more than half the roof and the majority of the back walls lay in shambles, he saw his detective leaning against the wall with a makeshift brace encasing his entire left leg. Both Jim and Sandburg looked exhausted and more than a little disheveled. He noted Jim's arm remained around the kid's shoulders as he fired his handgun once more. Sandburg's jump at the loud report was, in itself, not unusual but the rapid flicking of his eyes back and forth was. Simon had seen a look very similar to that on the kid's face after the Lash incident. He'd been dazed by the blows from the killer and still partially drugged, unable to focus on the concerned faces surrounding him, in effect, partially blind. Simon felt his stomach clinch again as Jim confirmed his suspicions.

"It's okay, Chief. It's Simon."

A tentative smile broke across the frightened face, partially hidden by long curls. "Simon," he breathed, "Man, is it good to s... that you're here. Hope you brought reinforcements."

The larger man couldn't help but smile at the words. "Oh...I brought a few," he said, switching his gaze to Jim's injury. "How you doing, Jim?"

"I'm okay, Captain. Glad to see you."

"What about..." Simon's voice trailed off as he indicated Jim's leg.

Another smile, this one more of a reassurance gesture, crossed Jim's face as he readjusted his hold around Sandburg's shoulders. "It's okay. My partner fixed me up."

Simon saw a tentative look of nervousness appear on the younger man's face. It was unnerving to watch those normally sparkling eyes shadowed in fear and uncertainty. "Looks like he did a good job." The man knew he'd get the full story from Ellison as soon as things settled down.

More shots began again, this time firing from the surrounding area. Simon knew Thompson and this men were making their move.

"Who's here with you, Sir?"

It was the Captain's turn to grin. "You won't believe this but that's the FBI. A man named Thompson and his people." Simon saw Jim flash him a look of disgust. He knew Ellison was thinking of their dealings with the FBI in the past. Instances that had only served to make the working relationship between the federal agency and Cascade Police Department grate on everyone's nerves. After Simon had gotten over his initial shock of meeting an FBI agent who was actually willing to work with the local law enforcement rather than against it, he'd been anxious to introduce Thompson and his people to Jim. "This guy's not like any Fed we've worked with before. I think you'll be surprised."

The look on Ellison's face told Simon he was skeptical about the prediction but he'd deal with it later.

More shots sounded as the jewel thieves continued firing back at the federal agents.

Simon looked toward the area he could hear the heaviest gunfire. "I'd better see about lending a hand," he took a quick glance back inside the building. "You gonna be okay in here?" he asked.

"We'll be fine, Simon," Sandburg spoke up.

Simon and Jim both looked at him. The trust that emanated from the anthropologist was astounding. Whether that trust was in Jim or Simon or the feds didn't matter.

Simon pushed himself back out of the opening and crept to the front edge of the building. In the distance he could see Thompson's men spreading out. Simon smiled to himself. Jim and Sandburg had apparently been through hell. It was time to end this.

* * * *

Jim watched Simon leave and heard more shots from what he presumed were the FBI agents. Simon had said he had been surprised by this Thompson, he hoped his Captain was right. He'd had enough bureaucratic garbage with his previous encounters with the FBI.

He felt Blair jump each time a bullet hit the building. "You okay, partner?"

"Yeah. It..it's just a little unnerving. You know?"

Jim saw him half-heartedly smile. It had to be rough to be hearing the gunshots and not be able to even tell how close they were coming. God he hoped Blair's blindness was temporary. He tightened his grip around the young man's shoulders again. "I know," he sighed, "We'll just sit here and wait while the feds and Simon do all the work. Okay?"

Sandburg made a slight scoffing sound and this time the smile on his face was stronger, "I thank you, but you hate it and you and I both know it," he said, attempting to look into Jim's face. "You want to be out there with them."

It was the truth, no matter how much Jim wanted to deny it. He thought again about how well Blair knew him.

"That's not tr...."

Jim was stopped short by his partner.

"Don't worry, man. I understand," Sandburg paused, letting Jim grasp that he really did understand, "It's part of your genetic makeup. You're a sentinel. You were born to guard and protect, not sit around on your butt comforting me."

Jim smiled. "What makes you think comforting you isn't part of guarding and protecting?"

"Oh. It is." Sandburg smiled too, an impish grin that could melt the coldest of hearts, "Why do you think I put up with you acting like my mother sometimes?"

"Your mother?" Jim's arm slipped from around his shoulders and he back away just the tiniest bit to let a hint of mock anger creep into his voice. "Your mother?" he repeated.

A soft laught erupted from Blair at the attempt of severity.

"You know what I mean," the younger man told him still trying to suppress the laughter in his voice.

"Yeah, well..."

"It's okay, really. I mean, I know you can't help it."

Jim glared at him a final time before grinning as well. "Alright, junior. I think that's enough."

"Junior!?" Blair made a disgusted face.

"My, my. How touching." The cold quiet voice from the back of the collapsed building startled both men as Jim instinctively began bringing up his gun in defense and trying to move himself between Blair and the man. He recognized the voice as belonging to the man who had been called Whittaker. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Whittaker continued, "Not unless you want 'junior's' brains splattered over the wall behind you."

It took more control than Jim knew he possessed to halt his gun hand, but Whittaker's gun was aimed directly at Blair and Jim wasn't about to take any chances with a mistake. Outside, he could hear sporadic gunfire as the FBI encountered the last of the thieves. Silently he cursed himself and his lapse. How could he have let this man sneak up on them? Dammit, he was a sentinel. Why hadn't he heard him? And where was Simon? Jim studied the other man through a glacial stare and felt a small amount of satisfaction as he noted the man looked as tired as Jim and Blair.

Whittaker was in his middle fifties, tall, about six foot with thinning gray hair. He looked out of place surrounded by the haphazard array of fallen timber and Jim judged he would have been more comfortable in boardrooms and high-class restaurants than the out-of-doors. "Toss it away," he said, motioning at Jim's gun with his weapon.

After a brief hesitation, Jim did as instructed, tossing the gun toward the doorway where it landed just outside the opening.

"Now," the man said quietly, his eyes flicking toward the sound of men shouting to each other beyond the building. "Where are the diamonds?"

Jim stared at him, refusing to answer.

"Come on. I don't have all day. Where...are the diamonds." His voice was hard.

Jim calculated how long he would be able to stall.

"Answer me...or I'll shoot the kid."

Jim felt Blair flinch beside him. His partner hadn't stirred since Whittaker had appeared. Blair couldn't see the gun trained on him, but he knew his partner was aware of what was happening from the conversation.

He hesitated a moment longer, but gave in when he noted the man's finger twitch slightly on the trigger of the gun.

"Okay. Take it easy," he heard a soft footstep beyond the walls behind them. "They're in the backpack," he said, indicating Blair's pack lying beside him.

He reached down, pulling the thermos containing the jewels from the pack and prepared to toss it to the man.

"No!" he said urgently, "Not you. You stay still. Him." He indicated Blair.

Blair's sightless eyes widened further as Jim place a protective arm across the front of his chest.

"Why?" he asked, his voice filled with suspicion.

"I don't trust you," Whittaker replied. "I want the young man to bring them to me."

Jim's eyes narrowed. He knew Whittaker had plans to use Blair as a hostage if given the chance. He had no intentions of letting that happen. "He can't."

Whittaker fingered the trigger of the gun again, "I do not have time for games." His words were measured and spoken low.

Jim took a deep breath to calm his anger. "He can't see," he told him equally as low. "If you want them, I'll toss them."

Whittaker paused as if thinking about it for a moment before agreeing. Jim knew he realized a blind hostage would slow him down as much as the crippled hostage. The man's chances of escape were rapidly shrinking.

"Alright. But I would advise you do so quickly or I 'will' shoot your friend."

Jim nodded and prepared to throw the container. His mentally calculated the distance and the

timing. He didn't know if Simon was close enough to help or not, but he was certain he and Blair were dead the moment Whittaker had the diamonds in hand.

Taking a deep breath he threw the container with deadly force, aiming directly for Whittaker's head and in the same motion threw his body against Blair, knocking him to the ground.

Jim felt his partner go down hard at the same instant he heard three distinct and separate shots.

His leg cried out in agony and for a moment he thought Whittaker's shot had caught him in his injured leg. He remained still, hearing a footstep behind him, unsure what had happened to Whittaker.

"JIM!" There was a moment of silence that sent Simon's heart in to overdrive. "ELLISON!" The captain's voice was laced with fear. *God, please don't let them have come this far only to lose.*

"Yeah, Simon. I'm okay."

Simon closed his eyes as he exhaled a pent-up breath. He continued to keep his gun trained on the unmoving form of the diamond thief as he saw Agent John Thompson advance and check for a pulse on the man. After a brief moment, the FBI agent looked up at him and shook his head.

Simon slowly lowered his gun and turned his attention back to his detective team. In the shadows of the building he could see deep lines of weariness and pain etched on Jim's face as he slowly pushed himself upright, then gently helped Sandburg to sit up. Both men needed medical attention as soon as possible.

Simon holstered his gun and knelt to help Jim as he motioned for Thompson's medic.

Jim slowly righted himself, wincing at the reawakened pain radiating upwards. He'd heard Simon call to him the first time but he had been preoccupied gauging Sandburg's condition. Jim had not had the opportunity to warn his partner of his intentions and being blinded, the blow to knock Sandburg to the floor for safety had caught the anthropologist completely unaware. Jim feared he'd caused more damage to his young friend.

After reassuring Simon that he was okay, at least not further injured, Jim turned his attention back to Blair.

"Hey. Chief," he said lifting Sandburg by the shoulders to face him once more. "You okay?" Jim's eyes searched the pale face. "Chief?"

"Ahh...yeah....yeah. I'm okay." A confused frown crossed the expressive face as he began to brush away unseen litter from the front of his jacket, "Are you done?"

"Done with what?" Jim asked, becoming concerned.

"Done with shoving me around. That hurt, man."

Jim stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. Whatever he had expected as a response from his partner, it wasn't the tone indignation. He shook his head in wonder and briefly embraced him once again.

"Jim?" Ellison heard the deep voice speak from behind him. He patted Sandburg's shoulder one last time before turning to Simon.

"Yeah Simon."

"We've got a medic here. He needs to check you and Sandburg over."

Jim nodded agreement as a stranger knelt beside Blair and began his cursory examination.

* * * *

The FBI agents had taken possession of the bodies of Whittaker and his people along with the thermos containing the diamonds.

Jim had been impressed with and surprised by John Thompson. Simon had hurriedly explained a little more in depth about Thompson being different from most of their ususal contacts with the federal agency, but Jim hadn't believed him until the man had stepped forward to speak with the medic regarding his and Blair's conditions.

Jim had heard honest concern in the voice and after silently monitoring the man's heart beat he knew the concern had been genuine. Simon had been right. The man was different. It would be easy to work with him.

Simon had introduced them and Thompson had stayed nearby while Jim's leg had been checked and re-braced and Blair's eyes had been bandaged for protection against further damage. Then he had arranged for a helicopter to transport them back to Cascade along with Simon and himself.

Jim had heard his partner's heart rate increase at the news of the impending helicopter flight but the young man had remained silent. After what they had gone through with the airplane crash, it couldn't have been easy for the anthropologist to bring himself to get back on an aircraft of any type, and the fact that he couldn't see hadn't helped. Jim could tell Blair had been on the verge of refusing to go in the chopper and he still felt a twinge of regret at resorting to manipulation to get him onboard. All it had taken had been a single word from Jim that he needed his partner with him and the younger man had swallowed whatever protests and fears he'd had and climbed inside the helicopter.

He'd been quiet during the flight. Too quiet. And Jim hadn't needed his Sentinel abilities to hear the thundering of the young heart.

When the helicopter had lifted off, Sandburg had visibly paled and his hands had gripped at the only surface he could find in his dark world, the seat where he sat. At that instant, Jim felt more guilt than he would have imagined for his deception. Without hesitation he had casually placed his arm across Blair's shoulders and drawn him close. Sandburg had remained tense and quiet the entire trip but his hand had found it's way to the edge of Jim's jacket and the white knuckled grip hadn't lessened until they had reached the hospital where the two of them had been whisked away to a treatment room for care.

Now, several hours later Simon had left to help the FBI tie up a few loose ends and Jim was resting comfortably in Cascade General Hospital, waiting for his partner to join him.

They both had been suffering from dehydration and were being fed fluids through I.V.'s and the doctor had wanted more complete tests on Sandburg because of the head injury. To Jim's relief, the doctor had confirmed the blindness was temporary, caused by swelling of the tissue surrounding his optic nerve.

Jim silently thanked again whatever powers it was that watched over his partner. The blows he had taken to the head could easily have resulted in much worse damage than the temporary blindness and concussion he'd sustained.

His own injury would be taken care of soon. The doctor had scheduled him for surgery to repair ligament damage to his knee.

Jim couldn't help but smile to himself as he recalled the nearly inaudible sigh of relief he had heard from Sandburg from across the treatment room when the doctor had mentioned the surgery to his knee could be done with a local anaesthetic. He knew his partner had been worried about what effects the drugs would have on the sentinel's system. Their past experiences with any type of drugs, over-the-counter or prescription, had been less than stellar and they had yet to find the time, or on Jim's part, the inclination, to set aside the time needed to conduct the tests. He didn't even want to think about the Golden drug he had accidently gotten into his eyes. Jim shivered at the memories of him being blinded and Blair being reduced to life-support.

He leaned back in the bed with a sigh and felt the exhaustion and weariness creep up on him. The nurse said they should be finished with Sandburg in another half hour. Maybe he could catch a nap until they brought his partner in.

He settled deeper into the pillows and reminded himself to thank Simon for arranging for the two of them to be in the same room. He hated hospitals almost as much as Blair did. It would be comforting to know Sandburg was nearby. Jim smiled as he relaxed further. Besides, this way the hospital staff wouldn't be spending half their time trying to keep up with the wayward anthropologist searching for his partner. Jim suspected his captain had that in mind when he'd made the arrangement. He grinned and let himself drift.

* * * *

Blair gripped the arms of the wheelchair as the nurse pushed him down the corridor. He had lost track of where Jim had gone during the tests the doctor insisted on preforming. He had heard his partner's reassurances that everything was okay and he wouldn't be far away but Blair knew Jim had needed his own injuries taken care of.

He felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he remembered the comfort he had gotten from Jim's arm across his shoulders in the helicopter. He had berated himself for needing the feeling of security but still couldn't deny the comfort the act had brought, not to mention the fact that he didn't think he would have been able to go through with the flight had his friend not been there. He would rather have ridden back in a car or Jim's truck. Hell, they'd already walked almost halfway back to Cascade, he wouldn't have minded walking the rest of the way. But Jim couldn't have walked and the sentinel's injury was worrying Blair more than the blindness he was experiencing.

Despite the FBI medic's approval of his treatment of the injury, he was concerned that he hadn't taken proper care of Jim's knee when he'd first been hurt. Suppose he'd done something to antagonize the injury and make it worse. Suppose he'd caused irreparable damage to the leg and Jim lost his job because he wasn't able to perform at the same level of physical efficiency as before. Suppose....

Blair cut himself off from that line of thought. No. Jim would be okay, the doctor said so. He had also confirmed they'd be able to do the surgery with a local instead of a general anaesthetic and with the advances in surgery of this type and a few weeks of physical therapy, Jim would be back at his job to full capacity in no time.

Blair breathed a sigh of relief as he heard voices pass him. He'd lost track of the length of time he'd been gone from the ER. He and Jim had been taken into the same treatment room when they had first arrived, but the medical staff had taken him for more of their tests and he'd been in more than one room. He wished he knew where Jim had gone and what was going on with his partner, but no one seemed able to tell him anything. He'd asked repeatedly, and each time he had been told someone would try to find out for him. He knew they were only placating him and his patience was beginning to wear thin. He was tired, sore, cranky, his head still hurt and he was more than a little bit scared. It was unnerving to be without his sight.

He knew he was fortunate the blindness was temporary and he was thankful. The doctor had explained what was causing it and that it would disappear in a few days but Blair still found his confidence lagging. His admiration and respect for the permanently blind had skyrocketed. It was just dawning on him how much he took his sight for granted on a daily basis. He vowed to be more aware and more thankful in the future.

The nurse slowed the wheelchair and Blair could hear her pushing open a door. They must have arrived at his room. He wondered once again what had happened to Jim. He wanted desperately to check on his partner but as of yet, the nurses had been unable to tell him what room his friend was in.

"Mr. Sandburg," the nurse whispered near his ear. He jumped, startled and a little angry at her thoughtlessness. He hadn't felt her leaning closer. "It looks like your roommate is sleeping. We need to be quiet."

Blair nodded glumly, without speaking. Great. Not only could he not find Jim but now they were putting him in a room with a sleeping stranger. He hoped Simon or one of the guys would be by soon. He could enlist their help in locating Jim.

Within minutes, the nurse had him situated in the bed. He couldn't see her but he heard her movements and suspected she was injecting a hypodermic into the I.V.attached to his arm. He had heard the doctor's orders for a pain reliever. As she made her final check, she instructed him to rest and let the medication he'd been given take affect.

That was easier said than done. Although he wanted to curl up and sleep for about a hundred years he was more concerned over his partner. He really wanted to find Jim and see how he was doing. He fumbled with the controls of the bed and managed to raise himself a little. Maybe, if he could stay awake long enough he could think of a way to find his partner.

* * * *

Jim watched silently through drowsy eyes as the nurse helped Blair into the second bed of the small room. She finishing settling him into the bed, added something to the I.V. running into the younger man's arm then quietly checked Jim's leg once more before leaving.

They had re-bandaged Sandburg's eyes. The doctor had told Jim they would be doing it but that it was only for protection and the bandages would be removed in a day or so. The swelling would be reduced enough by that time for the kid to have his sight back.

Jim smiled at the strength of his partner. Sandburg had held together well considering the trauma he'd gone through. But then, the young anthropologist always seemed to bounce back fast. It was testament to his fortitude, an underlying strength he possessed that was often misjudged by people who didn't know him.

Jim knew him and was proud of that fact. Despite the trouble that seemed to tag along where ever the young man went, Jim couldn't imagine where his life would be without Blair Sandburg in it. He hoped he never had to find out.

He watched as his partner began restlessly shifting in the bed. He smiled to himself as he realized he was up to something. Blair was not comfortable unless he was in perpetual motion.

Jim waited until Sandburg had kicked free of the blankets covering him and started to swing his legs to the side of the bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

His voice was low and carried the tone of authority he knew irritated the younger man, but the effect was exactly what he had hoped for. Sandburg had nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Oh God, Jim, man. Don't do that to me," Blair breathed, freezing in place.

Ellison had heard his heartbeat spike before leveling out and let a grin creep across his face.

"Going somewhere, Chief?"

It never ceased to amaze him how easily Blair's thoughts telecast across his face, even with half of it covered by gauze and tape.

"I was...I...ummm...I was...."

"Yes?" he asked innocently, waiting until Blair gave up trying to think of a believable answer.

Finally, the younger man turned his bandaged head in the direction of Jim's voice.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

Jim watched as he scooted himself back in the bed and felt around for the blanket he'd kicked loose earlier. "Right here. Waiting for you."

Sandburg stopped all movement.

"Here?" He cocked his head slightly, "Are you my sleeping roommate?"

Jim let his voice fill with the severe tone of someone who had been disturbed and didn't appreciate it. "I was. Until *someone* decided to try a midnight walk."

Blair cleared his throat self-consciously, "Sorry about that, man."

Jim smiled at the chastised look that crossed the lower half of the younger man's face, then sighed in weariness, "No problem, Chief. Just...stay in the bed. Okay?"

"I will," he promised, breathing deeply as the drug he'd been given took effect and he relaxed into the pile of pillows, "now that I know you're okay." He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Where'd Simon go?"

Jim yawned mightily, "He and Thompson went back to the station to finish the reports on Whittaker."

Blair pushed himself up on one elbow with effort, "So this Whittaker was the inside man on the diamond theft?"

"It looks that way. Thompson's got his people rechecking to make sure there were no others involved."

Sandburg lowered his head before asking his next question. "What about your friend, Mike Ryan?"

Jim couldn't help but smile. It had felt good to learn the truth about Ryan. "Turns out, Ryan was FBI too."

"What?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah. He'd been working undercover for months to establish his role as a smuggler. He was clean."

Blair heard the sadness in his partner's voice and knew Jim regretted his doubt of the man.

"Jim," he said softly, "I'm sorry. About your friend, I mean."

Jim looked down at his hands gripping the sheets on the bed. "It wasn't your fault, Chief."

"I know, but still..."

"Don't worry about it, buddy. Mike saved our lives during that crash. We couldn't have done anything else to help him. And the FBI will see that he's buried with the proper honors," his voice took on a faraway quality. "Mike'd like that."

Blair yawned this time and Jim could hear his voice running down. Whatever he had been given in the I.V. was beginning to take affect and was making him drowsy.

"At least Simon can't blame us this time."

Jim smiled. He had heard his captain remark on several occasions that trouble seemed to follow the two of them around. "I...ah...wouldn't bet on it."

"Yeah?" the younger man stifled another yawn, "How come?"

"I heard Simon asking Thompson if he had any openings for an anthropologist on his team."

Blair's jaw dropped open. "Why?"

Jim grinned again, "Simon offered to loan us as a team to the FBI for six months. He said something about needing a vacation and with you and I not around, even working would seem like a vacation."

Blair was unfazed by the jest. He was used to Simon's sputtering at the incidents they were continually involved in, besides, he was feeling really tired right now.

He yawned once again, "If Thompson decides to take him up on the offer, hold out for a position in Hawaii or at least southern Arizona, someplace warm..."

His voice drifted off and Jim could hear his breathing even out. He listened for a few more minutes to the steady rhythm of his partner's breath and the quiet sounds of the hospital, then sighed and relaxed himself.

It had been a close call for both of them but they were both safe and with a little rest they would both be back at work before long.

Jim closed his eyes. Yeah, they would both be fine and back to work before long.

The End.