This was an answer to a theme-fic or two on Sen-angst. Thanks to Cheryl for making it much better as beta.
Crowswork
2:21 AM
Jim was having the dream again.
The nightmare had visited him once before, just after Sandburg had moved in. He realized, in the odd detached way you know things in dreams -- that he was dreaming. It didn't make him feel any better.
Panic enveloped him. Panic wasn't something Jim felt often. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed! It was one of his worst and most secret terrors. Helpless. Unable to defend himself. Powerless to protect Sandburg. Every muscle tensed. Cold sweat covered his body as he tried, with no avail, to move.
From downstairs, the smell washed over him. It was the smell of a living creature -- but like no one -- nothing he'd ever smelled before. It was like wet coal with an undertone of chlorine and the noxious scent that always gave him a headache when he walked past the hair salon at the mall.
The sound coming from below was almost subliminal, even for his sensitive hearing.
And all the while, there was the persistent buzz of a voice -- no, not a voice exactly -- but the constant wordless thought, that all was well and he was fine. You are sleeping it told him. No harm will come to you. It was like someone patting him on the head. Like he was a damned dog.
But he couldn't do anything and finally the stress and strain of trying to move exhausted him. The almost-voice in his head won and he sank into oblivion.
8:10 the next morning.
It was Jim's day off and he was oddly sore and achy -- as if he'd worked out too hard. Must be too much sitting on the stake-out they'd been on the last three nights. Jim shrugged off the thought on his way to take a shower.
Blair was cooking breakfast by the time Jim got out of the shower. "Hey, Jim. How do you want your eggs?"
"Scrambled." Jim shouted from the bathroom as he pulled a tee-shirt over his slightly damp hair and pulled on a pair of sweats.
"Homefries?"
"With peppers and onions if we have any."
"We've got onions." Blair said as Jim padded barefoot into the kitchen.
Jim poured a glass of orange juice and leaned back against the counter. He studied his friend as he chopped onions and scraped them into the skillet.
Blair stepped back and took off his glasses, wiping his eyes.
"Fumes gettin' to you Chief?"
"Onion tears." Blair grinned, but his eyes were already red and tired looking, with dark circles that had nothing to do with onions. Jim could almost feel the forced nature in the display of energy as his friend returned to cooking.
"Let me finish up." Jim glanced at the sizzling potatoes and fluffy eggs, then lowered the slices of wheat bread into the toaster. "You look like you need a cup of that coffee."
Jim's guess was proven correct when Blair handed him the spatula and filled a mug with fresh coffee. "Thanks Jim." He carried it with both hands as he went to the table and sat down.
When the food was divvied up and the coffee cups and juice glasses refilled, Jim dropped into his seat. "You look beat this morning. If these stakeouts are cutting into your school time -- you gotta say something."
"No. I'm cool." Blair picked at his eggs and potatoes. "All caught up. Spring break."
"Maybe we can take it easy today." Jim's yawn wasn't faked. Physically, he felt like he'd been in a brawl. His brain felt like someone had stomped on it -- repeatedly. "Kick back? Rent some movies or maybe find a game."
"I've got that disk set. Like a dozen episodes of that cool cowboy/sci-fi show that got canceled." Blair seemed to like the idea immensely. "One of my students loaned it to me."
"Sci-fi cowboy marathon?" Jim mentally shrugged and nodded. A day spent sprawling on the couch watching TV seemed infinitely attractive at the moment. And when he'd agreed, the kid cheered up a little and started to eat. "Sounds like a plan."
"Blair... BLAIR!" Jim's voice intruded on his brief doze. Jim had the remote for the new DVD player and was punching buttons furiously. "You gotta see this. I think you missed most of this one and I'm going to play it again from the start."
"Sorry." Blair sat up and shook off the last of the sleepiness. Jim had been humoring him about the marathon TV watching. Now though, he seemed to be getting into the show. Blair liked the idea ... Lots of spaceships and action focusing on the future of mankind in space.
"This is a really good one. There's this bounty hunter looking for the girl and he's... Just watch it." Jim finally found the beginning of the episode.
Blair hid his grin and tried to concentrate on the show. He had to keep it together. Jim didn't suspect what was going on and he could never -- ever -- tell him. To have his friend look at him with an expression of pity and disbelief, a look he'd become all too familiar with over the years... it would hurt too much. Even worse, Jim might believe him and that would put both men in danger.
No. He'd kept it hidden this long -- no mean feat considering the whole sentinel thing -- he would keep it hidden forever. If it got too difficult, he would move out, or leave Cascade all together.
Jim couldn't be a part of this in any way.
"Jim, it's the middle of winter."
"It's autumn. Look how pretty everything is." Jim studied the canopy of trees overhead and Blair had to wonder how many colors the sentinel could actually see.
Blair on the other hand, could feel the variety of bad meteorological conditions. There was the cold wind that whipped around the trees in the high areas. The damp chill that lingered in the low places. The crisp fog that hovered over the lake at dusk and the heavy, clammy pall that promised rain before the night was through. "So you take a drive and admire the foliage. Not go camping."
"I got a week off thanks to my brilliant sleuthing and bloodless capture of the Kloepper gang."
"They were plump, middle-aged Dutch diamond cutters and you still shot one of them," Blair grumbled. "That's why you got the week off."
"Three guys jumped on me. Broke my finger." Jim held up his splinted index finger. "They all grabbed for my gun and it accidentally went off."
"I know." Blair grinned. "I saw it all... Right before I hit the guy with the gun and rescued you."
"I had it under control." Jim hefted his backpack and looked around. "Who knew that three overweight guys in their fifties would tackle a police officer holding a gun? Hell, it turned out, they weren't even willing participants in the smuggling ring."
"Can you say, 'language barrier'?"
"I thought they would understand 'Police, you are under arrest!' 'Specially, when I held up my badge." Jim dropped his camping gear in the clearing. "The FBI's report said they spoke English."
"At least, you're in the clear with Internal Affairs." Blair struggled out of his gear and started looking for somewhere to build a fire. "Hans admitted that they thought you were a hit man. They even apologized about your finger."
Jim tossed Blair his best frown and the light weight tent. "Pop that thing up. I'll get some firewood."
"My hero."
Jim tossed and turned in his sleeping bag. He'd deliberately left the side unzipped and yet it was still too warm. Blair was sleeping a foot away, wuffling, puffing and talking in his sleep as usual but that wasn't disturbing Jim's rest.
He'd been feeling uneasy since they had set up camp. His senses found no one within miles of the lake. No sign of animals or unusual weather that could threaten. Still, he had his automatic close to his right hand and had only dozed, off and on, all night.
"N'tagin." Blair muttered in his sleep. "G'way. Tiredahh-thisshit!"
"You're dreaming, Sandburg." Jim opened one eye and peered at the restless young man. "Cut it out." He shut his eye and tried to go back to sleep.
You are sleeping. The voice wormed its way into Jim's brain and he couldn't move. He was trapped in the tangled sleeping bag. You will come to no harm.
In an act of will that equaled anything he'd ever done in his life, Jim opened his eyes. He was still turned facing Blair and what he saw made his blood run cold.
Sandburg was floating about a foot above his sleeping bag. His arms and legs hung down, as if a huge, invisible hand was lifting him.
This is a dream. It can't be happening. The voice in Jim's head almost overwhelmed him.
"No!" Jim shook off the unseen bonds that held him and grabbed Blair's wrist. "No!"
He was lifted as if he weighed nothing and as Blair turned toward him he saw the young man's terror filled blue eyes meet his. "No... no..." Blair's lips formed the words silently as they passed through the nylon of the tent and up, into the black night sky.
"Blair!" Jim tipped his head back and shouted. He flinched at the frightened tone in his own voice. He was naked and bound to a table in a chamber filled with unpleasant and vaguely medical looking equipment. "Blair!"
"Jim." Suddenly, Blair was standing at the head of the table he was secured to. His undershirt was missing and he looked scared. "Calm down. They really won't hurt you."
"Blair?" Jim cringed. God, did that pitiful sound come out of me.
"Think of it as a physical." Blair looked around fearfully. "They'll take some samples and then they'll take us back."
"They already took their damned samples." Jim ground his teeth as he strained against the phantom bonds that held his wrists and ankles. He'd been prodded and zapped until they secured blood, urine, stool and even semen samples. "This is like some bad fucking joke."
"No joke, Jim." Blair petted his sentinel's short soft hair. He'd been abducted once or twice a year since his thirteenth birthday but he could never be blase about it.
Naomi had believed him instantly when he'd told her. Her solution was to sleep on a cot next to his bed with a length of ribbon tied from her wrist to his. When they took him and returned him, without disturbing the ribbon, she resorted to duct tape and handcuffs.
He'd had to explain to her, that spending every night tied to his mother might damage a teen-aged boy's psychological well being more than being abducted by aliens.
When that didn't work -- he told her that the aliens had taken him from the school library during study-hall. They had thanked him for saving their race and promised on their sacred crystalline orb never to take him again. Naomi bought the obfuscation hook line and sinker.
The truth was that the last time they had him, the Grays had shown him a pitiful little baby, who's most human feature was patch of lank curly hair. After that he knew that he could never let them get near his mom.
Now, he was terrified that they would discover Jim's secret, so he whispered. "Calm down."
"Calm down?" Jim glared around the cavernous room they were in and whispered. "They aren't human. They smell awful and they don't have a heartbeat."
"Shush." Blair frowned and fought the urge to put his hand over Jim's mouth. "They'll hear you." There was a clicking sound and soon the small gray figures returned. "Dials at one, Jim. NOW!"
Jim's eyes met his for a moment, then seemed to lose focus. The leader stared at him and then at Jim. It took down a large instrument and lowered it toward Jim's right eye. Blair struggled to move but was frozen in place. When they'd done this particular test on him, he'd had migraines for most of the next year.
"NO!" He funneled every ounce of anger and fear and frustration at the leader and was stunned to see the tiny figure stagger back. "Leave him be!"
He is important? After a moment the thought was directed at him from the other Grays. He is belonging to you?
"Leave him be!" Blair turned his attention toward the others. They began to click and his vision went dark around the edges.
When he awoke he was lying on top of the sleeping bag in the tent wearing his flannel boxers and undershirt. In the darkness he could just make out the figure in white boxers sprawled next him. Jim was safe for now.
Even the cold couldn't stop him from sinking into an exhausted sleep.
"Sandburg?" Jim's voice came from inches away. "Sandburg!"
"Wha..." Blair woke with a start and kicked at the heavy sleeping bag covering him. "Jim? Why are you yelling at me?"
"Cause you were sleeping."
"And?"
"And I couldn't wake you up." Jim was already dressed and had evidently cooked breakfast if the scent of coffee and bacon could be trusted.
"That makes sense." Blair yawned and shivered as he pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt.
"You kept me awake half the night talking in your sleep."
Blair froze and it had nothing to do with the morning chill. "What did I say?"
"I can't remember anything." Jim shook his head and shrugged. "Come on out by the fire."
Blair didn't know whether to be happy or disappointed that the sentinel didn't remember being taken. Jim was -- after all -- The King of Denial. The man never met a memory he couldn't repress. Still, he heard himself ask, "So, Jim... you don't remember anything about last night?"
"Not much." Jim handed him a cup of coffee and waited until Blair took a mouthful of the tepid liquid. "The alien abduction sorta stands out."
The coffee spewed out of Blair's mouth. "Son of... JIM!"
"How the hell long has this been happening?" Okay, so Jim was worried and afraid. As usual, being worried and afraid made him extremely pissed off. Fear based responses.
"What do you... ahh...." Blair thought about stonewalling but gave up when Jim glared at him. "Eighteen years."
"And you told me about the pet toad you had when you were seven... But not this?" Jim gave him the cold, Ellison interrogation voice.
"You would have laughed." Blair poured another cup of coffee. Jim wasn't really mad at him. "You would have told Simon and both of you would have laughed."
"No..." Jim started then quirked his lips. "Okay. Maybe a little laughing... but I smelled those little jerks in the loft last spring. I remembered it last night."
"I'm sorry. It doesn't happen often." Blair tried to reassure his friend. "I'll move out. You know, if the idea creeps you out?"
"How can you be so indifferent about it?" Jim stood up and paced around the campsite. "They kidnap you. Probe places that are better left un-probed. They smell like beauty parlors and peat moss."
"I can't smell them but I'll take your word for it." Resigned, Blair tried to make Jim understand. "They've been taking me since I was a kid. They need us, I think, to reproduce." Blair realized he'd just made a big mistake.
"Reproduce? They took... ah, damn it. Those little... " Jim looked up, as if he alone might be able to see them. "little maggots."
"Sorry, Jim." Blair offered. "It's my fault they noticed you."
"If you apologize one more time -- I'll wait till you go to sleep and shave your head." Jim shot him a warning look. "It's not your fault. You're just popular with the wrong type of people, ah... things... never mind."
"What now?" Blair had to smile at Jim's assurances.
"How do you do it?" Jim plopped down by the fire and opened the skillet. "Act normal, I mean? Not let it make you crazy?"
"Believe me -- when the reality of this really sinks in -- you'll be, like totally floored. But eventually, you just accept it as inevitable. Like car wrecks and getting kidnapped by serial killers."
Jim just shook his head and served up the scorched eggs and carbonized bacon. Blair figured he'd had enough for now. He still wasn't sure what had happened last night. He remembered the Grays -- as usual -- pushing his mind and he remembered -- this time -- pushing back.
He also remembered his last glimpse of the leader and the unmistakable fear he'd seen in its large, jet black eyes.
THE END