Sigh, dark and gloomy just won't give me a break ... hopefully sweetness and light return soon, because I don't know how much more of this I can take. As usual, The Sentinel and its characters do not belong to me. UPN and Pet Fly Productions own everything about the show. The only thing I will get out of this are emails (hint, hint!) ... so please let me know what you think.
Warning ... This one has a possible 'R' rating for violence, or at least for the subject matter.
Tara
Sick ... he just felt sick. The guilt racked "father" had voluntarily confessed. Now, here he was, just standing in the rain.
They'd found Melanie Green's six year old, lifeless body near the edge of the woods. Her bludgeoned body was almost one solid purplish bruise. Torture didn't even begin to describe the scene before them. She'd obviously been sexually molested ... and sodomized. Shuddering from the sickening images, he'd barely made it outside of the yellow tape before throwing up.
A warm hand began to rub his back in a soothing gesture. "Chief?" Soft. Damn, I hate it when you're exposed to this side of my job. Protectively, Jim covered his friend's body with the umbrella as he finished retching the contents of his stomach onto the grass.
The young teaching fellow inhaled deeply, trying desperately to regain some measure of control over himself. Jim's touch was reassuring, helping to quell the tremors coursing through his body. "Chief, are you OK?"
He raised anguished eyes to his sentinel's. "No." His blood felt like lava coursing through his veins as the anger pulsed through his gut. "She was an innocent child, Jim. It isn't right. It just isn't right." He was past caring about the bitterness in his voice.
"No argument here, Chief." His jaw was clenched so tightly, it hurt.
Opting to stay behind while Jim went to the victim's house, Blair settled into his partner's desk chair. He was feeling so drained. Fiddling absentmindedly with a pencil, he almost fell out the chair as Simon's voice echoed through Major Crimes.
"SANDBURG! Get in here, NOW!"
Scrambling to his feet, Blair stepped inside the office. Simon slammed the door behind him, hard. "Sit." He growled. Trying to hold onto his temper.
"Blair, when I asked you to talk to Daryl about Angie, I don't recall mentioning the word sex! Last night, I came home to find them draped all over each other on MY couch."
Blair held up a hand. "Hold on, Simon. I never told him ..."
"Did you really have to say anything, Blair?" Simon hissed. "God, why did I ask you to talk to him anyway? You'd jump anything in a skirt."
He winced, Simon's words stinging. This is the icing on a perfectly lousy week. "Go to hell, Simon." The voice was quiet, strained.
Banks eyes were livid. "Excuse me?"
"My personal life is none of your damn business." Blair snapped, angrily. "For the record ... I told him to wait. It would have been better coming from his father, but you were too busy working to give a damn!"
Blair felt a sudden pressure on his face, as Simon's fist reached its mark. Blood flowed copiously from his nose, and down his chin. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying out, not wanting to give Simon the satisfaction. Raising his chin defiantly, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the office.
Rubbing wearily at his eyes, he tried to concentrate on his grading. Show me the facts to support this conclusion he scribbled in red as he heard Jim come through the door.
"What the hell went down between you and Simon today, Chief?" Jim muttered, grasping Blair's chin to look at his swollen nose. "I stopped back at the station to pick you up and H said that you and Simon had an argument ... that he hit you."
"I caught a cab home. Sorry, I guess I should have called." Shrugging he jerked away from the sentinel. "Just drop it, Jim, OK?"
"Chief ..." Jim began in a lecturing tone.
Blair held up a hand. "Jim, I asked you to drop it. I don't want to get into this right now." With that, he gathered up his papers and stormed into his room. Forcing himself to respect Blair's privacy, Jim busied himself in the kitchen.
With dinner on the table, some forty minutes later, Jim glanced over at Blair's closed door. "Sandburg, I know you can smell this." Walking over, he knocked softly on the door before pushing it open. Blair was sitting cross legged on the bed, hunched over a stack of papers. "Hungry, Chief?"
Blair shook his head, a little nauseated. "Not really. I have to get these done. I promised my students."
Jim took a good long look at his guide. The younger man was getting awfully thin. "Just a little, Chief. Please? Come on, I know you're cooking is a lot better, but I don't do this very often." Blair managed a tiny smile and let Jim drag him from his bed.
He sat down heavily at the table, and even managed to eat a few bites before pushing the plate to one side. "You can do better than that, Blair."
The anthropologist sighed. "I'm just not that hungry, Jim."
Jim studied his guide. "Chief, I'm worried about you ..."
Blair closed his eyes. "I'm fine ... just a little tired."
"Then you should get some rest ... after you eat, of course." Blair opened his mouth to protest. "Please, Blair." Jim pleaded.
Reluctantly, Blair swallowed a few more bites of food before standing up. As he walked back towards his room, the floor suddenly angled up sharply as he pitched forward.
When his eyes fluttered open again, he was lying in his own bed, music playing softly in the background. Sensing his guide was awake, Jim slipped into the room.
"What happened?" Blair asked, still a bit woozy.
"You passed out, Chief." Jim said, worry tinging his voice. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital."
Blair shook his head, moaning softly at the dizziness that ensued. "No. I'm okay."
Jim sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to understand his partner. "Chief, you're not okay." The voice was soft, soothing. "For crying out loud, you passed out. Not to mention you've lost weight. When was the last time you ate a real meal, Chief?"
"I ate an apple yesterday." Blair offered, Jim's scowl deepened.
"I said a real meal, Chief."
The anthropologist shrugged. "Maybe Tuesday."
Jim's jaw dropped. "Tuesday? You haven't eaten in two days, Chief?!" Abruptly, he stood and left the room. Blair heard the microwave spring to life, then Jim was coming back into his room carrying his plate from dinner.
He set the plate down gently and glared at his partner. "I'm going to give you one chance to eat this yourself before I cram it down your throat."
Blair groaned. "I'm serious, Blair." Jim warned. Picking up the fork, he guided a mouthful of food into Blair's mouth. He repeated the motion a few times before the young man finally took the fork away from him. Jim eyed him like a hawk until the last morsel of food had disappeared.
"Good. Now get some rest, OK?" Gently he pulled the covers up over his friend. "If you need anything, I'll be right outside."
Blair mumbled that he understood, then pressed his face into the coolness of his pillow, falling into a deep sleep. Jim tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door open a crack, just in case.
Groggily, Blair opened his eyes. He glanced at his alarm clock as Jim came into his room carrying a heavy tray. "Damn it, Jim! Why did you let me sleep so late? I have to get to class." Jim pressed him firmly back onto the bed, holding him there until he stopped squirming.
"It's taken care of. I called the university this morning, someone's filling in for you." He set the tray down on Blair's bed as he continued. "Simon gave me the day off too. All you're doing today is relaxing. I'm going to see to that." Gently he checked Blair's vital signs, smiling when they met with his approval.
"You feeling any better?"
Blair smiled. "Yeah, a little."
Jim returned the grin. "Now you're not just telling me what I want to hear, are you?" He placed a heaping plate of eggs and toast in front of Blair and then handed him a cup of tea. A smile played at his lips as Blair eagerly took the offered fork. He left the young man to his breakfast as someone knocked on the door.
Simon stood on the other side. "I wanted to let you know that Green's hearing is set for this afternoon at 1:30." Jim eyed him cooly.
"Thanks."
"I ... I also wanted to check on Blair. And ... to apologize." Simon's voice was soft. Jim stood back and let his captain into the loft.
"Hold on for a minute." Jim walked over to Blair's room and poked his head inside. A minute later, he glanced back over at Simon. "It's OK. Go on in."
Simon walked over. "Just make sure he eats everything on that plate." Jim said, then left the room so the two men could talk privately.
"Simon ..."
"Blair ..." Both men spoke at once. Simon swallowed thickly. "Go ahead."
Blair took a sip of his tea first. "I'm sorry I talked to you like that, Simon. The Green case just really got to me. I shouldn't have lost it like that."
"Well, that bastard should definitely be rotting in prison for the rest of his life." His voice was quiet. "He's drawn Judge Stevens. She doesn't stand for any crap."
Simon sat down on the edge of the bed, wincing at Blair's swollen nose. "I was out of line too, Blair." He admitted softly. "I should have been man enough to talk to Daryl about the concerns I have, myself."
Blair reached over and patted his hand. "You're a great father, Simon. I've always thought that. Hell, everyone in Major Crimes thinks that." He leaned forward a bit. "Including Daryl."
Simon raised a surprised eyebrow. "He said that? He actually said that?" Blair chuckled at the obvious delight in the man's voice. "I just wish he'd say it to me."
"Simon, he's a teenager." Blair said in between small bites of egg. "But he does love you. And he knows you love him."
Banks grinned. "He's a great kid." He said quietly.
"Well, duh." Blair teased around a piece of toast. "Oh, hey, where are my manners? Are you hungry?" The anthropologist pushed his plate over towards Simon.
Banks eyed him suspiciously. "Oh, no. Don't even try that with me. Jim would have my head if he found out!"
Blair looked at him, his lower lip protruding. He looked adorable, Simon sighed, giving in. Grabbing a piece of toast he downed it quickly, wiping away the incriminating crumbs from his hands and chin.
After Simon left, Jim brought his guide another cup of tea. He glanced disapprovingly at the food still left on the young man's plate. Blair rolled his eyes. "Be serious, Jim. Goliath couldn't have eaten all of that!"
Jim leaned in close. "I'll bet he could if he had the help of a certain Captain." Blair blushed.
"I thought so." Jim smiled. "When Simon said goodbye, I could have sworn he smelled like toast." He laughed, then sobered. "So, are you two OK?"
Blair nodded. "Yeah. I think so." He looked up into his sentinel's eyes. "Did he mention the hearing to you?"
"Yeah. It's today, at 1:30." Blair glanced at his watch, it was nearly one o'clock. He jumped out of bed, grabbed some clothes and headed towards the shower.
"Chief ..."
"I'm going." Blair said plainly, his jaw set in a determined expression. Jim sighed as his roommate disappeared into the bathroom.
He didn't want to go the hearing, but Blair had insisted. Even as he entered his guilty plea, Robert Green was stoic as he stood before the judge. His face remained devoid of emotion.
Judge Stevens stared at the repugnant scum before her, considering her words carefully. "Mr. Green, our children are precious. That you would deliberately harm the small precious life entrusted to your care is unforgivable. You are hereby remanded into custody to await sentencing." She tapped her gavel. "Court is adjourned." Standing, she motioned to the bailiff, "Get this scum out of my courtroom, immediately." turning away to exit, as the bailiff carried out her orders.
Blair stared out of the balcony window, oddly quiet. Jim looked up from his paper. "Chief? Are you OK?"
Sandburg turned to look at him. "Yeah, fine. I guess."
"You guess?"
Blair sighed. "I just can't understand why this happened, Jim. That little girl deserved better than what she got, a lot better. She never had a chance."
Jim nodded. "No she didn't, Chief." His own anger tinged his words. "But that son of a bitch is never going to be able to hurt anyone like that again."
"Yeah, there's that at least." Almost smiling.
Jim padded over to his guide and lowered his hands to the young man's tense shoulders. "Come on, Chief. Why don't we order a pizza and relax for a while. You can even have control of the remote control ... for a little while."
A soft, sad smile lifted his lips. "I can handle that." Jim tousled his roommate's hair affectionately, then picked up the phone to order the food. After it was delivered, they sat on the couch, eating and watching the Jags crush another team.
The cleanup was relatively easy and Jim continued the soothing backrub as he settled back on the couch. Strong, dedicated hands massaged away the tension the week had dumped upon them. Sighing happily, Blair concentrated on the gentle, reassuring motion of Jim's hands. Soon he was snoring lightly.
Not wanting to disturb the young man, Jim walked into Blair's room, emerging with a warm blanket. Carefully he covered his sleeping guide.
He stood for a moment, just listening to the easy, familiar rhythm of Blair's heartbeat as his friend slept. Then, smiled. "Good night, Blair." Jim turned off the lights, then headed to bed himself.
The End