A Different Way of Seeing Page 6

  The sobs became sniffles, the shudders became a gentle rocking, but Guide and Sentinel remained together until the wounds between them were healed. Trust allowed the privilege. Love allowed the Trust.

  Blair opened his eyes, and as he blinked and focused, he saw the loft. Nothing else. No jungle. No double images. For the first time since he had awoken in the hospital, he was seeing clearly.

  "My eyes are better now," Blair whispered. "Jim! My eyes are better!"

  "What?"

  "My sight. It's normal. It's clear. Not even a trace of the afterimage."

  Jim moved and cradled Blair's face in his hands, the pale blue, red-rimmed eyes searched his, as if trying to see for himself that this was true.

  "Really." Blair nodded, smiling, but it was awhile before Jim smiled back.

  "When did it clear up?"

  "Just now. I... realized I was home. And that you were with me."

  "I am, partner. I'm here. I'm with you." Jim reached back to the table behind the couch and pulled some tissues from the box there, handing them to Blair, then reaching back for some more for himself, blowing his nose and wiping his eyes.

  Blair's stomach growled. He slowly detangled himself from his partner and stood, stretched, then moved to the kitchen and stared into the fridge. "Want some lunch?"

  "Lunch? No. I couldn't eat right now." Jim turned on the couch and looked at him. "Your sight is normal?"

  "Yeah. And I'm hungry." He felt like he hadn't eaten in days. Weeks, maybe.

  "I'll make you something," Jim said, starting to get up.

  "Thanks, but I can do it. I'm just going to heat up some soup." Blair leaned over and located a pot under the counter, and placed it on the burner, then opened one of the cupboards and retrieved a can of vegetable soup. "Want some?"

  Jim shook his head, watching his every move.

  "I'm okay, Jim," he said, softly, opening the can and emptying the soup into the pot. He went to the sink and filled the can with water, then dumped the water into the pot and stirred it. "See? I didn't cut myself or anything." Turning the element on low, he gave the soup one last stir, then returned to the Sentinel and knelt before him. "What are you thinking?"

  Ellison reached out and touched the side of Blair's face, brushing back a lock of hair. "I had another dream."

  "When?" Blair breathed.

  "I was trapped in the elevator on the way back to Major Crimes when I heard you call out to me. There was nowhere I could go. And then...I was back in the jungle. The place in my dreams."

  "What did he say?"

  Ellison shook his head, wearily. "That you were my Guide. That I shouldn't fear you leaving me. And that for you to function as my Guide, I need to listen to you and stay close to you. Keep you near me. Follow where you lead. Be not only your Protector, but your Servant."

  "That goes along with what I've been learning," Blair said. "To stay near to you and to listen to what it is you are saying. If I don't listen, I won't know how to answer you. If I'm not around, I can't help at all. And I've been shown how much I have depended on what I see, instead of what you see. I've never had to answer to anyone else before; I've never been part of something else. I've come and gone as I wanted, when I wanted. But being a Guide is a lifetime choice, not one of five things I'm doing. I'm no longer just me, I'm part of an us. And that's cool, man. It's awesome, because it's you that I'm with. Ever since last night," Blair shrugged, smiling, "I just feel lighter inside. And this morning I learned to laugh again. And just now, I feel that I can trust you with me. With who I am. That I am loved and cared for. Not just rescued from the bad guys -- you've always done that -- but that my other needs will be met, too."

  "I want that. But, realistically, what are we going to do? Stay together twenty-four hours a day?"

  "If we have to. When we have to. We need to seriously talk about some things, like my dissertation and degree -- what both our comfort zones are there -- the university, the classes I teach and the ones I take, our jobs at the station, our friends, and even what happens in the future. Our choices now depend on us rather than just you or just me. Dwelling in unity," he added.

  "What?"

  "That song I told you about. Behold how good and how pleasant it is, for brothers to dwell together in unity."

  Ellison nodded, smiling, but the smile slowly faded. "How can we keep doing this? She's out there. She's going to come back for you. How can I ever leave you alone again?" he asked, again reaching to touch a lock of hair. "How can I let you go out of my sight to the university? To the market? To the movies? What if that had been her in the bullpen? She isn't just after you, Chief; she was also fighting me for this city."

  "Do you think that might be why you pushed me away? To protect me?"

  Ellison stared at him blankly, not confirming nor denying.

  "Well, regardless, we'll be ready this time. We know a lot more than we did before. First, I think you'll sense her. You know what her presence feels like now, right? She shows up in the city and we'll know, we'll have some warning. You tell me, and then we'll figure out the next step. And I know that being your Guide is my number one concern, that I need to be exclusive to you. And I didn't know how extensive the territorial aspect was, of what it would do to you having another Sentinel around Cascade."

  "I think it started when the Chopec named me the Sentinel of the city," Jim said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

  "Probably. Anyway, I'll stick to email with other Sentinels, if we encounter them. Let them find their own Guides, huh?"

  "Right..."

  "Right... And we know what she looks like. We'll find her first. Maybe go deal with her on 'neutral ground' where you don't have your 'Sentinel of the Great City' instincts getting in the way. Then you can deal with her cop to criminal." He tilted forward until his forehead touched his partner's. "We'll do it. Together."

  Jim nodded, drawing him close again for a long minute and then releasing him. "I'm hungry now."

  "Figured. I made enough for both of us." Blair smiled, his grin widening when Jim responded with a blinding smile of his own.

  "Both of us." Ellison threw back his head and laughed, then grabbed Sandburg's hand and drew him up. "Watch the soup and I'll make us up some cheese sandwiches."

  "I'll get the beer."

  "No beer. Not until you're better."

  "Come on, Jim. Alcohol has no effect on antibiotics. I'll be fine," Blair said, eluding the Sentinel's grasp and making a break for the fridge. He had almost reached it, when he was tackled from behind, suspended off the ground and balanced on Jim's left hip, his hands trapped at his side by Jim's left arm holding him in place.

  "No beer, Junior. Milk." Jim opened the fridge with his right hand, snagged the milk jug, and shut the door with his foot.

  "Okay, okay. You win." Blair felt his feet make contact with the floor again in front of the stove, and dutifully stirred the soup before it burned. Behind him, he could hear Jim making sandwiches. He sighed and smiled and kept stirring the soup. Big Brother mode, he noted.

  "There are only two beers left and I thought if you were feeling okay, we could have them tonight. Maybe watch a movie or something," Jim said, without turning around.

  "Sounds good. Maybe do up some steaks on the balcony?"

  "Put our feet up and relax."

  "Yeah," they both said at once and looked at each other.

  It had been a different way of seeing before, but he was glad he could see the warmth of Jim's smile now, directed at him.

  He was home. He was back.

  They were back.

  And truly, in the deepest place of his heart, there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

  * * *

  finis

 

 

 
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