For Aggie ... and for C&J, the "littlest light"

This Little Light
by Shelly

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
~Traditional Song~

~~~~~~~

"Why? I want to know why!!!" Simon's voice was deep and dissolving, sending the room into an uneasy silence.

Daryl swallowed. "I don't know."

The boy sat huddled in the chair, eyes downcast, misery running raw. He hunched down further, trying to make himself disappear. He knew his father was furious...knew he would be...but he wished that he would stop going on about it. His answers only rattled the question harder.

"Not one finger, do you hear? You sit there until I am back, Daryl!"

The Captain of the Cascade Police Department slammed the door to his office, leaving his son to weigh the minutes until he'd have to face what he had done again.

Simon took several deep breaths, endeavouring to calm himself. He unclenched his hands and forced himself to relax. Scanning the room, he looked for one person.

"Sandburg!"

Blair Sandburg looked up from the computer and used one finger to push his glasses higher up onto his nose.

"Sir. Yes, SIR." Blair leapt to his feet and performed a mock salute to the summons. He held himself stiffly to attention, grinning widely.

Simon allowed himself a small smile in return. "Sorry, Blair. I need to speak with you. Something private. Important."

Immediately the joking was put aside, and the young man's blue eyes filled with concern.

"What's up, Simon?"

"I need you to talk to Daryl. He'll listen to you...he idolises you." Simon's voice was soft.

"He idolises me? Now that would be because...? Oh yeah...my three point shot. Simon, I don't know what the problem is, but don't you think he'd be better to talk to his Dad?" Blair was smiling but his eyes were serious.

"Believe me, I've tried. And I think he will listen to you. Blair, this is to go no further. I found drugs in his school bag. I've blasted him and now he's closed up. He saw what you went through with the Golden stuff...Shit...it's so bloody stupid!!" The despair was plain in Simon's words.

Blair felt a shudder slalom up his spine. Golden. How long had it been now since he had been slipped the designer drug and tripped out in front of everyone?

"Blair?" Simon's voice rang strangely in his ears.

The young Police Observer shook his head and smiled up at Simon with a grace that was all his own.

"I'll speak to him, Simon. I'll try."

*~*~*~*~*

Daryl had moved right on through misery and was now working hard at anger. It wasn't his fault! He hadn't done anything. His father never listened. Never listened. He was mumbling a litany of woes, stoking his anger nicely, when the door opened.

Blair bounced cheerfully into the room. "Hey, man. How ya doing? I hear you are in a spot of trouble. Just a spot mind you....of course it could get to be a mighty big blob if you aren't careful, pardner." Blair hooked his thumbs through the loops on his jeans and walked over to Daryl with an exaggerated western swagger.

Ducking his head, Daryl hid his smile, unwilling to relinquish his attitude just yet. "He sent you."

"If by *he*, you mean Simon, yeah, he did send me. He wants me to talk to you. Do you want to talk to me?"

"Nothing to talk about." Daryl's voice was shadowed...and there was hurt there too.

Blair perched himself on the desk in front of the boy. He sat, relaxed, letting his feet swing freely. He waited.

There was a sigh. Daryl lifted his head. "Some kids from our school are selling these tablets. And it's cool. I mean.. they can't hurt anyone. And I didn't hurt anyone. I just bought them. I wasn't gonna take them, man."

"What were you going to do with them then?"

"Nothing." The kid spoke defensively. "I only bought them so they wouldn't think I was a loser. You don't understand!!! You don't understand what it's like with everyone watching!!!" His voice cracked and he turned away.

Blair hesitated, then reached out and put his hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"Yeah, I do, Daryl. I do."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Blair Sandburg's first two years at Rainier University had been a journey in more ways than one. He was living alone, independent, and he was happy. He felt he had finally found a niche... something of his own.

He was younger than the other students in his year, and he looked it. His dark hair fell in long curls to his shoulders; his face still softly round, not yet planed away to adulthood. He stood out from the crowd because of the incandescent smile that seemed to be permanently on his face, and an indomitable hold on compassion and integrity. This was his world, and he moved though it with good humour and vitality, embracing every facet of University life.

Blair was never more at home than in a lecture hall, jousting with his professors. He had gained a reputation for his lateral thinking and his ability to cut to the chase in an argument. He never stopped questioning and his natural curiosity made him explore the dusty corners of a debate to find some new gem to bring forth. Intuitive, his work was always leading off on a path none before had travelled.

But the thing that Blair Sandburg learned above all else in his second year at University, was that he possessed enormous inner strength.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Uhh, Sir, I'm going to have to call you on that one. I don't think that is quite correct."

The disembodied voice rang through the lecture hall and Professor Canfield rolled his eyes melodramatically. Sandburg.

"Ahh. Yes, Mr Sandburg. Why does that not surprise me?" The Professor rubbed his hands together at the thought of another match with his most outstanding student. A great teacher is an adversary....someone to challenge you. Well, Sandburg was more teacher than student if that was the case. The Professor smiled wryly.

The young man stood up, grinning broadly. He pushed his hair back out of his face and acknowledged the encouragement coming from the rest of the students.

"Thank you, fellow students...."

A scream rang out and there was a scuffle at the rear of the hall. Students left their seats and moved to the back, trying to see what was going on.

Someone yelled out, fear etched in their voice, "Help her! She's not breathing. Oh shit.."

A blonde woman was sprawled in the aisle. A red-faced young man pushed through the crowd calling for someone to ring for an ambulance. Two students began CPR and mouth to mouth resuscitation on the woman. Their desperate struggles echoed in the shocked silence.

Professor Canfield stood at the edge of the crowd of students. In the middle of whole nightmare, what burned into his memory was the stricken face of his brightest student. He watched as Blair Sandburg turned and walked from the hall.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was hot. Rays of late sunlight spilled through the eaves of the University buildings and pooled in the quadrangle. A lonely figure stood in front of the basketball hoop that had been nailed above one of the arches.

Blair lined up the shot, and heard the satisfying clunk as the ball fell into the hoop. He gathered it up and ran in a wide arc before shooting again. He was drenched in sweat, but he wanted to exhaust himself to the point of insensibility...and he wasn't there yet.

"Hey, Sandburg."

"Hey, yourself." Blair didn't stop. His emotions were poised unsteadily in a duet between anger and tears. He kept running, dribbling the ball, taking shots.

"She died."

"Shit..." His fingers quailed and lost their grip on the ball. It bounced away like a mocking heartbeat. He slumped down cross-legged on the ground. Alex sat next to him. Blair studied the geometry of twigs scratched on the sunlit wall in front of them and shivered.

"Do they know how?"

Alex was silent.

"I want to know how, Alex," Blair repeated in a quiet, determined voice.

Fists clenched, Alex turned to face his friend. "Someone saw her do a line of coke before the lecture."

Blair's face flickered with a myriad of emotions. "She wouldn't."

"Blair, she did."

"Jesus. I knew she did marijuana...but not bloody cocaine...it's a world away. Shit! Shit! SHIT!" Blair dropped his chin to his chest. His elbows rested on his knees. His expressive hands moved, reaching to describe the desolation that he felt, but ended up with palms upturned in a wordless 'why?'.

The pale light dimmed to darkness in the hot palm of the backsliding day. Blair and Alex watched the stars came out one by one. There were no words.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Turning over yet again, Blair kicked at the blankets that knotted infuriatingly around his feet. Normally he liked the approach of sleep, as much as he liked sleep itself. He enjoyed the pulse of comforting sounds that had become a lullaby of belonging; the ground crickets sighing and pausing, the far off hum of traffic, the cuddling tick of the clock on the bedside table.

This night, there was a vague malevolence in these sounds...these sentinels of normality. Nothing was normal anymore. Louise was dead. And when someone died, things shouldn't just go on. It should be marked somehow...even if just in the noises of the night.

Conceding defeat, he slid out of bed, peeled off his damp t-shirt and padded across the floor to the window. Running his fingers through damp, tangled curls, he rocked his head from side to side, trying to relax the knotted muscles in his neck.

There was a rumour raging around Campus that the cocaine Louise had been given had been cut with rat poison. Someone's sister worked at the hospital where Louise had been taken and the word had come from her. Shit, it was just such a waste. Blair thought back to when Louise had been his designated partner on his last Anthropology assignment. He'd fallen a little in love with her. She was quite a bit older than him and very kind. Never once did she make him feel like a child. She was air and light. Even when it rained, you saw the sun saved under her skin. He'd always thought that you couldn't take the shine out of her...but *they* had.

Cobra. The word slurred with indolent evil across his mind. Cobra. A group of bastards who had somehow bonded together and formed a brotherhood. Everyone knew about them. If you needed drugs, you went to a Cobra man. And it was unwritten Rainier law that you never, ever crossed them. Their network stretched right through the University. Blair had seen their handiwork on someone who hadn't paid up on time...and it wasn't pretty.

Leaning his forehead against the cool glass, he realised that he had two choices, and two choices only. He could accept what had happened...or he could make a stand.

Five hours later, at six o'clock in the morning, with a grey and bird-noisy sky outside the window, Blair was working industriously on his last gift to Louise.

**************

Simon Banks sat on the corner of the desk and stared at the closed door of his office. He was alternating between shifts of anger and spells of calm. Shit. When did this get to be so hard? Blair and Daryl had been in the office for over an hour now. The voices spilling from the room were intense but quiet. He couldn't make out the words.

"Simon, seen the kid?" Jim Ellison's voice boomed in the Captain's ear. Simon jumped.

"Jesus, Ellison! You'll give me a heart attack one day. That is if Daryl doesn't get there before you." He smiled tiredly. "Both kids are in my office."

Jim's brow furrowed with concern. "What's going on?"

Simon sighed. He knew he could trust Jim. "I found drugs in Daryl's school bag. He swore he wasn't going to do anything with them. We had words...didn't go the way I wanted it to. I asked Sandburg to have a talk to him. You know how much Daryl thinks of Blair."

"Well...if anybody can get a point across it will be the Chief. God, the kids these days have so many temptations. You know you are getting old when you say things like that." Jim sent a sympathetic smile to his friend and boss.

"It's all too hard, Jim. When he was little...he'd fall and you would give him a hug and everything would be okay. The fall is a lot higher these days and Daryl's not much into hugging anymore."

"He's trying his wings, Simon. They all do. You just have to keep being there for him."

Simon nodded in answer, watching the door to his office again. **********

"Hey, man. Where ya been? We missed you today. Canfield was itching to spar."

Blair pushed the unruly curls back off his face and smiled up at his friend.

"Places to go, Alex. Things to do." With just the slightest tremor in his hand he held up the top page from the pile of papers sitting in front of him.

It was a poster.

Alex stepped back. "Jesus, Sandburg! You're insane!"

In bold print across the top of the page was Louise's name. Underneath was a photocopied picture of her, laughing at the camera, hair streaming behind in the reeze. In huge angry letters at the bottom of the page Blair had printed..

"MAKE A STAND AGAINST THE COBRA"

Looking furtively around, Alex sat down and whispered. "Don't do this, man. You're dead if they catch you."

"I can't not do it. I owe it to her." Blair's voice had gone beyond emotion. "I need to do it. For me..and for her." There was a little silence...and a little voice. "You could help."

Alex leapt out of the seat and Blair caught the anger flaring in his eyes.

"No way, Sandburg. You want to go off and kill yourself, fine. What damn good will it do? It's fucking crazy. Leave me out of it!"

Blair looked down at the pile of posters and spread his hands wide upon them as he listened to Alex's footsteps fade. He felt weighted with emptiness.

He stood, and began to make his way around the University, putting up the posters as he went. People watched, read, and shook their heads. He could hear the whispers behind him as he walked.

*~*~*~*

The wind shifted, gathered and gained. A summer storm was brewing and the air was heavy and malignant. Blair strode across the darkened quadrangle. Once again he'd fallen asleep in the library and they had left him until closing time. Old Mrs Housman had a soft spot for the young man with the kind, blue eyes who made her laugh with his crazy sense of humour.

Rain started falling, indifferently, as if being ladled from the sky. Blair tucked his essay into his shirt, and ran. It was exhilarating to feel the cool water after the long, hot day and he laughed aloud.

The punch came from behind, a perfect blow to the kidney. Blair staggered forward and fell to one knee. They circled him, like wildlife stalking their prey. Someone pulled him up by the hair and he smelled moist, fetid breath. "You shouldn't have done it, you stupid bastard."

The next blow came to the sternum and Blair went down in a huddle trying to protect himself from the blows and kicks that fell in a cadence of their own.

Then it stopped. He rolled over and attempted to stand. Pushing up from his knees, and hugging his stomach, as if to hold himself together, he managed to get partly upright. A voice next to his ear whispered, "Stay down." A fist cracked into the side of his head. And it started again.

Each time the beating stopped, Blair dragged himself to his feet and stood, one small figure in an act of singular courage. His defiance only fuelled their fury. Each time he stood, the fists and feet rained upon him unrelentingly...daring him to rise again. Over and over. It became impossible for him to distinguish one voice from another, not even his own, crying the challenge...one lonely word..."NO!"

It was over, when he fell for the last time, unconscious, onto the wet grass.

~*~*~*~*

That was where Alex found him, in the rain, fingers digging through the grass into the earth as if to find something to anchor him in a spinning world.

They carried him up to his room. They took his clothes from him and lay him on the bed. They wiped the muck and mire from his hands. With gentleness, they cleaned the blood away. He was shaking from the cold..or from shock. Tears were running down his face, fury and despair intermingling. He would not speak.

Alex called Jeff's sister who was a doctor at the hospital. Shiona had been called down to the University before to check out students after altercations. Unofficially, of course.

When she arrived, Alex pointed her to the shivering huddle on the bed. Her fingers moved over the bruised and battered body of the young man. She poked, prodded, and questioned her unresisting patient. It was the silence that disturbed his friends the most. There were no jokes or complaints coming from Blair. Instead he lay compliant and still, eyes huge in a wan and weary face. When the examination was over, he turned his face to the wall.

Shiona spoke quietly with Alex.

"You'll have to keep an eye on him. He doesn't seem to be too bad...in shock maybe. He'll be stiff and sore for a while. It would be best if he rested for the next few days."

"I'll make sure of that. Thanks for coming, Shiona. He wouldn't go to the hospital. He's bloody stubborn even when he's only half conscious." Alex grinned.

Shiona smiled back tiredly. "Well...you know what to do if you think he has a concussion, don't you? And he may have blood in his urine for a few days because his kidneys have taken a real beating...but that'll go."

She looked over at Blair for a moment and her expression softened. He seemed so damn young. She'd heard the story about Louise, the drugs and Blair's posters. It wasn't the cleverest thing she'd ever seen, but certainly the bravest.

"Look after him, okay?"

********************

All the next day, he lay on the bed with his face to the wall. He did not hear Alex answering the door to the many people who had heard what had happened and wanted to know how Blair was. He did not hear their hushed words of comfort.

Shadows and unrelated conversations slipped through the open places in his mind..and he slept. The voices of 'The Cobra' slurred across the room, whispering to him as they climbed in the windows of his dream. The choir of dark murmurs soared and then silenced. He was in a cage of emptiness. He put his hand in front of his face, saw nothing, and fear slithered and coiled in the pit of his stomach. Louise appeared in front of him, sun-smudged and beautiful. She smiled at him with such tenderness, and then moved away, fugitive as morning light. The darkness seeped back toward him.

"Wait!" he cried. "The dark!"

She turned. "Blair," she smiled wistfully, "it lights by what you are."

******************

"Awwww. No, man. No way!!!" Alex shook his head in utter amazement at hearing what his friend was planning.

It was 7.00 p.m. Blair had been down to the showers, a long, slow process in itself. Now he was tentatively walking across his room, a towel wrapped around his waist. Mottled bruises over most of his body were testament to the punishment he had borne at the hands of 'The Cobra' the previous evening.

He was still very unsteady on his feet, and it took him a long time to gather up the clothes he wanted to wear. He put his feet into his jeans but couldn't bend over enough to pull them up over his legs. He smiled hesitatingly. "I think I'm gonna need some help here, Alex."

Alex's brow furrowed. "And what if I don't? You gonna go out there buck naked?"

"It's my choice, Alex. I'm not asking you to be involved." He sat on the edge of the bed with his head down, waiting.

"Fine," Alex replied flatly. "Just fine." He manoeuvred the jeans over his friend's legs and as Blair stood, continued to lift them gently over his hips. Blair winced with a quick intake of air. Alex bit his lip and said nothing. He pulled a white t-shirt over the riot of dark curls, and then guided Blair's reaching hands to the armholes.

"Thanks, man."

Silence.

"Alex?"

"What?"

"Just one more thing?"

"What!!!"

"Can you pin the posters on for me?"

Alex shuddered. "Blair. Don't. Please don't. Look what happened last night. Please?"

The posters and pins were held out to him. Alex took them reluctantly. He pinned one of the posters to Blair's chest and the other to Blair's back. It was the poster that Blair had made for Louise.

"When are you going to do this?" Alex asked hollowly.

"Eight o'clock. It'll be okay."

"Well...I'm not gonna hang 'round to see it. You know that, don't you?"

Blair nodded.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The night sky was heavy with cloud, and thunder rolled near. The air was lukewarm and still... hollowed velvet. The quadrangle was in darkness. Somewhere, a door slammed.

Blair stood on the edge of the grass, breathing deeply, feeling the adrenaline burning through his stomach like a river. He squared his shoulders and stepped into the dark, walking slowly, deliberately.

When he reached the centre of the quadrangle, he stopped, and raised his right hand to the sky. He held a flashlight. With a flick of a switch, the flashlight lit, unfolding a parachute of light to float softly down over him. He stood, legs planted wide apart, chin tilted defiantly up, arm stretched high, holding a boy's metaphor for truth, and choice, and life.

His right side ached from stretching his arm up, but he ignored it. What concerned him more was the shaking. He was frightened, really frightened. Every noise made him jump. Occasionally, he could hear people's voices drifting out from lectures and he wished that he could be in with them... safe. But he stood his ground.

A group of students walked by and his heart stuttered for a moment, till one called out, "Hey Sandburg! You look surreal, man. Way to go!"

A breeze picked up, died and picked up again. It was a wind that offered no relief from the heat. Blair felt sweat trickle down his body with a maddening slowness. He strained to hear the drumming of avenging feet. He knew they would come.

He'd been standing, sentinel-like, for over thirty minutes and was tiring. His knees felt vulnerable. They had dropped out from under him a couple of times, so he'd had to set himself and stand straighter. His wrist had begun to ache from grasping the flashlight so tightly. His hands felt slick and untrustworthy.

From the edge of the grass, a quick, fluid movement caught his eye. There was a group of darkly clad figures watching him.

"Jesusnotagain. Notagain. Pleasedon'tletthemdoitagain." Blair spoke the words of a prayer so rapidly that it would have taken a most patient deity to find the plea in them. Despite his fear, he held the flashlight aloft, the light shimmering as he trembled.

A shadow detached from the group and stepped towards Blair. "You...are...dead!!" The voice enunciated each word with precision and intent.

"Blair!!!!!!"

From the other side of the quadrangle a match flared. Alex stood with his hand cupped around a tall candle burning in a coffee cup. Slowly, Alex began to walk towards Blair. A tremulous smile was lit by the glow of his candle. From the shadows of the buildings around the quadrangle, another student appeared. Then another. And another. Soon there was a steady steam of classmates, lecturers, university workers and janitors moving toward Blair. All carried some form of light; torches, candles, cigarette lighters, sparklers....even an oil lamp. And all held them high.

Blair met their collective gaze with a beaming smile. He began crying their championing of him, but that smile didn't waver despite the tears. He raised his other hand to them in thanks.

The river of light flowed towards him like a hatchery of stars, swirling about, encircling him, pushing back the dark.

Blair stood face to face with his friend.

"They're gone." Alex nodded over Blair's shoulder in the direction that the Cobra members had left.

"I know."

"We're here."

"I know." There was a catch in Blair's voice.

"You're crazy!!!"

"Yeah, I know that too." Blair's smile widened.

Professor Canfield approached with a stumpy blue candle burning on a saucer. His face looked flushed and little drops of sweat were running down his neck but he was grinning.

"Sandburg, I honour you." He took Blair's left hand in his and shook it vigorously. "One person with courage is a majority."

Mrs Housman came and placed a hand on either side of his face. Her eyes were shining with tears. "You're a dear, dear boy." Blair blushed and then grinned when she kissed him on both cheeks.

The crowd gathered together and felt the shelter of the light, and the unity brought about by one boy who needed to make difference. No one wanted it to end. Their collective lights twinkled and danced far into the night.

******************

Daryl was mesmerised by the story teller in front of him. His eyes were huge in his face, dark and coffee-hued....and tear filled. Blair rubbed the back of his hands tiredly over his eyes, and smiled at his young friend.

"Daryl, It could have easily have turned out differently. I could have stood there and had the crap beaten out of me again. The thing is....it's about choice. You make a choice and you take the consequences. Choice has nothing to do with what others want. It's real easy to be a part of the crowd. But it's what you want. That's basically that your Dad tried to tell you."

Daryl's head dropped. "He doesn't care. He didn't listen...." his voice faded off and the famous adolescent pout made its appearance.

Blair shrugged. "Uh...I see. Oh sorry. I thought perhaps that he reamed you out because he did care...but what you're telling me is that he yelled at you because he didn't care....ah huh...got it."

Seeing the absurdity of the statement, and hearing the teasing in Blair's voice, Daryl looked up and regarded him with a petulant expression.

"Well...he didn't listen, anyway." The voice was stubborn.

"Maybe you need to listen too, though, Daryl. Maybe if you listened, you would have heard that what he was saying to you was out of concern and care. And then maybe you both could have talked about it instead of yelling about it. It does no good, man. He's waiting out there for you....and he's sorry for the way he spoke..."

"So am I," Daryl said with difficulty. "Kind of." He grinned.

"The drugs?"

"Yeah...It was stupid...really stupid. I knew it even when I was buying them. But I felt like everyone was on my back. Watching. You know.. the cop's son."

"Man, don't try and shine less brightly in order to make others feel better. You're selling yourself short if you do. And it's all very well for your Dad and Jim and I to say it to you. But you are the one who has to carry it through. It's up to you. You know that all of us are here for you, don't you?" Blair put a finger under Daryl's chin and tipped it up to see his eyes.

Daryl met his gaze straight on. "Thanks, Blair. You helped."

"Well, my friend, you have some choices to make, and some talking to do."

Blair opened the door to the office and they walked out together. Jim and Simon looked up as the two 'kids' approached them.

Daryl put his hand on Blair's arm, answered the question in his searching eyes, and stepped forward to his father.

"I'm real sorry, Dad. We need to....." The rest of his sentence was muffled as his arms went around his father's chest in a hug.

"I'm sorry too, son."

Looking across the top of Daryl's curly head, the 'thank you' was plain in Simon's eyes. Blair nodded, and mouthed, "You're welcome." ***************

It was warm in the cabin of the truck. The wheels hummed along the road in a comforting, mindless tune. Blair leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. He was bone tired.

Jim glanced across at his partner, then back to the road.

"Chief?"

"Uh huh."

"You asleep yet?"

"Yep."

"That's a shame. I was just gonna tell you that sometimes you amaze me, kiddo. What you did today was great."

One blue eye opened. "Hang on...I think I'm waking up. Go on...go on," encouraged Blair, grinning mischievously

Jim chuckled. "No..really, Chief. Really. It was great. What did you tell Daryl?"

Blair straightened up in his seat and looked across at Jim. "I told him it was about choices...and it was.."

"About friendship." Jim completed the sentence for him.

They looked at each other, laughing.

************************

Two days later a parcel was delivered to Daryl Banks from Blair Sandburg. Daryl carefully snipped the tape holding the brown paper together and unwrapped a plain, white box . He lifted the lid and smiled. Inside was a flashlight...and a card, on which was written just three words... Let it shine.

~~~~
Finis