Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Pet Fly, UPN, Paramount, and The SciFi Channel.
Carole
Rafe coughed, a weak muted sound, then coughed again on the dust-laden air as he opened his eyes to near darkness. He was confused at first, then the memories flooded in: the robbery, the pursuit, entering the condemned building, descending the stairs into the basement, the ceiling collapsing, Blair falling...
"Sandburg!"
Rafe tried to get to his feet, but the movement caused him to begin coughing again, and he sank back down to the floor.
"Sandburg?" he called out. Continued silence was the only response.
Rafe wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, hoping to clear his vision, but varying shades of grey were the only colors he could see. He licked his lips, and then swallowed, the dirt and dust leaving a gritty taste in his mouth.
"Blair?" he tried again. "Where are you, kid? Come on, answer me!" He listened again, hoping to hear something that would help him find the other man. "The first time we're sent out together and this happens. Jim's gonna kill me."
Rafe struggled to his knees, then reached out with his hands, digging through the dirt and debris. He was almost ready to give up when he finally felt a warm, soft shape under his fingers.
"Blair?"
Rafe moved closer and carefully ran his hands over the still figure. He placed two fingers on the pulse at Blair's neck and was relieved to discover that it was strong and steady. There was debris almost completely covering the rookie detective, and he quickly moved the smaller pieces, but hesitated at the large beam that was across Blair's chest. Rafe could hear Blair's harsh, labored breathing, and he carefully maneuvered his hand around the beam to touch Blair's chest. He pressed gently, then lifted his fingers when Blair let out a soft moan.
Rafe swallowed hard as Blair moaned again.
"Jim?"
"No, it's me, Rafe." He could barely make out the shadowy features of his friend's face. "Jim's not here," Rafe reminded him and gently placed his hand on Blair's shoulder.
Blair turned his head slightly, then cried out as he tried to push himself up off the ground.
"No! Don't try to move again, Blair," Rafe directed quickly, his hands gently holding the injured man still.
"I'm not going to," Blair assured him with a gasp. "Rafe, what happened? Are you okay?"
"The building collapsed on us," Rafe responded tightly, remembering how he had seen the ceiling give way and begin to fall before he could warn Blair of the danger.
"Are you okay?" Blair repeated.
"I'm fine, Blair."
"Can we get out?"
"I don't know." Rafe surveyed the room, peering through the darkness. He couldn't see any way out. "I don't think so, Blair, it looks like we're trapped. We'll have to wait for help."
"How will they know where we are?" Blair's voice was small and plaintive.
Rafe had a sudden thought. "Where's the phone?" He felt around the prone body of his friend... nothing.
"It was in my hand. I must have dropped it when I fell," Blair answered, his voice growing fainter.
Rafe let out a quiet groan, then quickly added, "It's okay, Blair. Back-up was on the way, they'll find us."
"Jim will find us," Blair said in a whisper.
"Yeah, he will," Rafe agreed, knowing Ellison's tenacity when it came to his young partner. "Blair, how are you doing?" he asked, concerned as the injured man's breathing grew more strained.
"Rafe... it's so hard to breathe," Blair whispered weakly, pushing ineffectively at the beam that was pinning him to the floor. "Can you get this off me?"
"It might be better to wait until help arrives," Rafe responded in hesitation.
"I can't breathe, man. Please, get it off," Blair pleaded softly.
Rafe took a long, considering breath, then, "I'll try." He stood, then bent to grasp the beam with both hands. With muscles tensed, he tried to lift the beam, but was only able to raise it a few inches before being forced to let it settle back down on Blair's chest. The hiss of pain from his friend tore at his heart.
"I'm sorry, Blair, I'm sorry," Rafe apologized, for both his failure and the pain he had caused. He placed his hand back on Blair's shoulder. "I can't lift it, it's too heavy."
"Rafe, please," Blair pleaded again. "Get it off. You can do it."
Rafe hesitated. "I'll hurt you again."
"Please."
Rafe clenched his teeth, and then, this time from his knees, reached down for the beam and pulled back on it with all his strength. Finally he managed to slide it off his friend and let it fall to the floor.
Blair quietly whimpered in pain as the pressure on his chest was relieved. "Thanks, Rafe," he managed to say.
Rafe listened anxiously to his friend's breathing. It hadn't improved even with the weight of the beam removed. "Blair, are you hurt anywhere else?"
Blair was quiet for a long time. "My head hurts, too," he finally answered.
Rafe removed his jacket, folded it into a flat pillow, and after carefully lifting Blair's head, slid the pillow underneath. Then he sat back down close to Blair's side, with one hand rubbing his shoulder.
Suddenly Blair's breathing was worse, harsher, more labored. "Rafe?" came out in a half whisper/half gasp. He reached out, grasping Rafe's hand with his own, pulling and holding it tight against his chest. "It hurts, Rafe," he gasped.
"I know, Blair," Rafe answered, his jaw clenched tight. "I know." Each tortured breath and desperate gasp brought tears to Rafe's eyes. "Help is coming, Blair. Jim will be here soon," he promised, hoping that it was true.
"Jim..." Blair repeated with a soft moan.
Suddenly Rafe cocked his head as a sound penetrated their dark prison, a sound coming from above. "Listen, Blair, listen!" Rafe entreated him. "Someone's coming, someone's digging us out!"
Rafe looked up in surprise as something heavy fell beside him, then smaller pieces tumbled to the floor around him, and he realized that the digging above them had caused some of the already unstable debris to fall. Rafe bent over Blair, covering his friend's body with his own, flinching as several pieces hit his back, but grimly refusing to move until the danger was over.
"Jim?" Blair barely breathed out, then fell silent.
"Hold on, Blair!" Rafe pleaded. "You've got to hold on! Hold on for Jim!"
From above a sudden trickle of light illuminated the dark room, turning the shades of grey into pale shades of color, as the rescuers broke through.
"Please help him!" Rafe begged, still crouched over his unconscious friend as the first rescuer reached his side. "Please help him, he can't breathe."
"We will, sir, but we need you to move out of the way," Rafe was told gently but firmly.
As Rafe reluctantly moved aside, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up into the worried eyes of Jim Ellison.
Another paramedic joined the first, and with Rafe and Jim hovering nearby, they quickly and efficiently treated Blair, checking his vitals, positioning an oxygen mask, placing him on a stretcher, and then lifting him out of the devastated basement.
As they carried Blair toward the ambulance Rafe walked alongside the stretcher, with Jim on the other side keeping a light grasp on his partner's arm.
"Rafe!"
Rafe looked up to see Captain Banks and Brown, concern for both officers etched on their faces.
"Are you hurt, Detective?"
"No, sir. I'm fine, sir."
Brown checked his partner over carefully. "You sure, man?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Rafe insisted, with a small reassuring smile.
Rafe watched as Blair was loaded into the ambulance, not surprised to see Jim follow him inside.
"We'll meet you at the hospital, Jim," Banks called, as the three men headed for his car.
Rafe's backward glance caught Jim's answering nod as he sat down close to his best friend, his hand tightly wrapped around Blair's hand, his eyes intent on Blair's pale face.
Rafe climbed into the front passenger side of the car, with Brown taking the back seat.
"Here you go, man." Rafe turned at the sound of Brown's voice. His partner was standing behind him with an armful of clothes.
Rafe finished wiping off his face, then tried to brush away some of the dirt that still clung to his hair before accepting the clean clothes from Brown. "Thanks."
"No problem." Brown grinned at his partner as Rafe began to slip out of the dirt and dust covered suit that he still wore.
Rafe glanced at Brown, his face sober. "How's Sandburg?"
"Hairboy is doing good. The Doc said he has three broken ribs, and that cut on his forehead took six stitches, but he'll be fine."
"What about Jim?"
"You know Jim. He's parked himself in the chair next to the kid's bed, and has resisted every effort to move him."
"Yeah." Rafe sighed, then finished buttoning his shirt.
"Hey, man. Jim doesn't blame you for what happened."
Rafe shook his head. "I blame myself."
"Come on, man. There's no way that you could have known that the perp had escaped through another door. And there's no way you could have known that the ceiling of that building was ready to give way."
"I guess." Rafe's eyes were still troubled.
"Why don't you go check on Sandburg?" Brown suggested.
"I don't know."
"Well, I do." Brown patted Rafe on the back, then pushed him toward the door. "Now go check on him."
Rafe walked slowly toward room 312, hesitating when he came to the open door. He could see Ellison sitting next to his partner, fingers firmly wrapped around the younger man's wrist.
"Come in," Jim called softly, as he spotted Rafe standing by the door.
Rafe entered the room and stood uneasily at the foot of the bed. He nodded at the still unconscious man. "How is he?"
"He's still out, but the doctor said he's going to be just fine," Jim said with obvious relief. "H told me you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Rafe confirmed. "Jim, I'm, uh..."
"Rafe..." Jim began, then broke off as he saw a slight movement of Blair's hand, then his head. Blue eyes opened slowly, and Blair looked around, confused.
"Blair? Are you with us, buddy?" Jim asked.
"Jim?" he rasped.
"Yeah. Take it easy, Chief," Jim said soothingly. "You're going to be just fine."
A pained look crossed Blair's face as he took a deep breath. "Jim, where's Rafe. Is Rafe okay?"
"I'm right here, Blair. I'm fine." Rafe moved closer and reached out to pat Blair's arm.
"Rafe." Blair gave him a wan smile. "Thanks for what you did, man."
Rafe smiled back. "You're welcome, Blair."
"Jim..." Blair tried to talk again, but instead sank back down into his pillow and closed his eyes.
"Shhh..." Jim whispered, tucking the blanket up around Blair's chin. "We can talk later... I'll be here when you wake up."
As Blair's breathing became slow and regular, Rafe looked at Jim. "I guess I'll..."
"Rafe?" Jim interrupted.
Rafe looked in surprise at Jim's outstretched hand.
"Thanks for taking care of my partner."
Rafe answered Jim's warm smile with one of his own, then reached out to shake Jim's hand firmly.
"Well, I've got lots of paperwork to do, so I guess I'd better head for the station," Rafe said. He took another look at the young detective in the hospital bed. "Would it be okay if I come back later?"
"I think he'd like that," Jim assured him with a smile. He glanced fondly at his sleeping partner, then turned back to look at Rafe. "We both would."
Rafe quietly left the hospital room, still smiling.
~end~
November 1999