Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Much appreciation goes to Kathleen (K) for her beta work.
Carole
Consciousness returns, not with a rush, but slowly, sluggishly. Memories of chains and flickering candles surface, but my thoughts are disjointed and confused and I can't make any sense out of the surreal images. Suddenly I become aware of the bitter taste in my mouth and my heart begins to race as panic sweeps over me.
I can be you.
I let out a moan as someone touches my shoulder and I struggle to move, to get away.
I can be you.
Fearing that I am still a player in Lash's deadly game, I frantically force my eyes open to scan the room. But instead of Lash, I see my partner standing beside me.
"Chief?"
My terror subsides as Jim moves closer and begins to rub my shoulder soothingly. "Hey, it's okay, buddy," he murmurs softly, "You're safe now."
"Jim?" Only Sentinel ears could possibly understand the garbled sound that comes out of my mouth.
Jim reaches down to rest his hand on mine and I see him smile as I curl my fingers around his. "Yeah, I'm right here. Lash gave you a pretty big dose of that drug, but you'll be fine. The effects will wear off soon."
I jerk my head, fear resurfacing at the name.
I can be you.
"You don't have to worry about him anymore," Jim reassures me, "He's dead." He softly rubs my hand with his thumb as unbidden tears come to my eyes.
"Jim?" Simon peers around the white privacy curtain, smiling as he sees me. "Hey, Sandburg. How are you feeling?"
Staring up at him for a few seconds, I try to get my mouth to form the words. "I'm okay," I finally manage to say.
"Doc said he's doing good and it won't be long before the drug is out of his system," Jim adds.
Simon nods. "Good. Jim, I've just come from the warehouse. They're working on getting all of the evidence bagged and ready to go. I'll need statements from both of you as soon as you're ready."
"You got it."
"Oh, Sandburg, your things will be processed and returned ASAP."
"Simon...." Jim begins, shaking his head, but he knows it's too late when I give him a questioning look.
A look of regret crosses Simon's face. "Sorry, I thought he already knew."
Jim turns to me, his blue eyes meeting mine. "Maybe we should talk about it when you're feeling better."
"Now," I insist.
Jim sighs, unable to resist my pleading look. "We found a box..."
With my eyes I encourage him to go on.
"You know that Lash collected things..." Jim hesitates, glancing first at Simon and then back at me, "...things that belonged to his victims..."
"Trophies," Simon interjects.
I nod my head slightly, swallowing hard as I begin to sense where this is going. I fight to get words out, my eyes wide, hoping that I'm wrong. "Did he take..."
Jim clenches his jaw as he nods. "There was a box filled with some of your stuff... clothes, pictures, jewelry, textbooks... along with your car keys and observer's pass."
My stomach lurches as I remember the mannequins... the friends... that Lash had designed and placed in that macabre display. I tighten my grip on Jim's hand, my heart beginning to pound again, as I picture my things enshrined in the warehouse.
I can be you.
"Chief? Easy, buddy. It's all over. Lash is dead, remember?"
I focus on Jim's soothing voice, using it as a lifeline, as I pull myself up out of that nightmare. "Jim?"
"I'm right here. You're safe now, buddy. You're safe."
I take a deep breath and then let it out slowly before managing a small smile. "I know. Thanks, Jim."
Jim's somber expression brightens. "You're welcome, Chief."
"Oh, Sandburg, I got these for you," Simon says, taking a pair of glasses out of his pocket and handing them to me. "I thought you might need them."
Blinking as the bright ceiling lights reflect off the glass, my mind flashes back to the image of Lash.
I can be you.
I stare at the glasses in my hand, horrified, before my eyes shift to look at Jim. "Lash wore these?"
"No, he didn't wear them," Jim says quickly. "They were in the box with your other stuff."
"You're sure?" I ask warily, knowing there's no way I could ever wear something that Lash had used in his masquerade.
"Yeah. He bought all that stuff he was wearing."
Shivering, I remember the moment I saw Lash's reflection in the car window. "Kinda looked like me."
"I know... I saw him." Jim's voice is strained.
I think back to the words that keep reverberating in my mind. I can be you. "He couldn't be me. He couldn't," I repeat with emphasis, trying to reassure both of us.
Jim's frown gives way to a grin as he shakes his head firmly. "Nope, there's only one you, Chief."
"Good thing, too. Right, Jim?"
Jim lightly swats at my head. "Yep, you're right, Simon."
"Ha, ha," I begin, shaking my head, but my retort is interrupted by a yawn. "Man, I'm tired," I say through another yawn, "and sore." I'm just beginning to register the bumps and bruises I picked up during my scuffle with Lash at the loft.
"It's been a rough night, Chief, why don't you close your eyes and relax for a while."
"Don't go," I plead as he starts to pull out of my grip.
Jim chuckles softly, a fond smile crossing his face. "I won't. I'm gonna park myself in that chair, and when the doctor says it's okay, I'll take you home."
Home... that sounds good to me. "Okay."
"Do you need anything?" Jim asks, fussing with the blanket before tucking it around me.
"Just you," I murmur, heaving a small sigh of contentment.
Jim chuckles again as he gently removes the glasses from my grasp and places them on the table. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
Jim and Simon converse quietly as my eyes close.
I can be you.
Lash's words are still running through my mind, but the sense of horror and fear that had filled me has been replaced by safety and security.
I'm right here.
The last thing I feel before sinking into a peaceful sleep is the warmth of Jim's hand wrapped around mine.
~end~
September 2000