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by
Blair Sandburg took a last look around the storage room that had served as his office for the past few years. It looked different. Without all of his belongings in it, it was just another room and he knew that anything of real importance he was taking with him.
His knick-knacks and masks and small artifacts he had picked up on various expeditions. His research notes on everything from the strange and unusual tribes of Brazil to Burton's studies, to his own extremely personal study of Sentinels.
It was all gone, packed away in boxes and sitting in his car several yards away.
The room looked empty, felt even emptier. The whole in his heart was a living thing. Something almost tangible that he couldn't seem to get past. It weighed him down, made him feel trapped and claustrophobic.
It made him afraid, but more than that it made him angry. He had spent almost half of his life at Rainier. And though a good percentage of the past few years had been spent with Jim, at Jim's job, the University was still extremely important to him.
His work had been so important for so long that he felt lost, stuck in a Hell of his own making. No more studies. No more research. No more classes and no more teaching.
His research had been his life.
And now it was gone. Flushed down the toilet as a lie.
And for what? Jim's freedom. Jim's peace of mind. Jim's safety.
Was it worth it?
Certainly. That was never in doubt. He would do it all again to save Jim. In a heartbeat. But where did that leave him?
With a decision to make. A decision that would change everything in his life.
Could he take Simon up on his offer? Could he become a cop? Did he even want to?
"Mr. Sandburg."
Blair turned around at the sound of the voice, breaking him out of his inner thoughts.
"Becky." Blair tried to smile at the young girl. "What can I do for you?"
Becky Winters smiled shyly. "I'm glad I caught you before." She hesitated a second, looking around the empty office. "Before you."
"Before I left." Blair finished for her. "It's alright Becky. What can I do for you?"
Becky stepped forward slightly. "My brother and I. we wanted you to know. we're sorry about what happened." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Will you be okay. now?
Blair smiled at the sincerity in her voice. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He turned to his former desk and picked up the one lone box still sitting there. "I better go."
Becky nodded. "Oh, okay." She turned and left the office.
Blair followed, locking the door behind him, refusing to look back as he walked away.
"Professor?" Becky called from about halfway down the hallway. "Will you be back? You know, someday?"
Blair froze in his movements and spoke without looking at the young girl. "I don't know."
Becky seemed to accept that answer and continued walking away, leaving Blair alone in the hall. He continued his own walk and found himself standing just inside the doors to Hargrove Hall.
He was frozen in place, knowing he had to leave, he had to move on, but unable to get his feet to cooperate. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Blair gripped the box tighter with one arm while pushing the door open with the other.
The breeze outside ghosted over his skin, chilling him even though it really wasn't that cold. He forced his legs to move. First one foot and then the other. His movements seemed jerky to him, but he thought that was just his imagination because no one seemed to notice.
The world continued to turn.
In the grand scheme of things, his life meant nothing. Maybe in the small scheme of things too.
He continued to move away from the building and towards where his car was parked. He was making progress too until he spotted something out of the corner of his eyes. Something that caused all movement to cease. Caused everything to stop. The world seemed to shrink in the face of this one thing.
The Fountain.
His feet seemed to move of their own accord now, walking straight to the fountain. It seemed innocent enough. The water splashed almost silently around the stone pool. Nothing dangerous or deadly about it.
Except.
There was memory here. Memories of dying here. Of waking up gasping for breath after Jim had brought him back from the dead.
Maybe that was the mistake. Maybe Jim should have left things alone. Let him die, alone in the fountain. Cold and wet, with no oxygen. With the last memory of Jim telling him their friendship was over.
Maybe that should have been the end.
Maybe everything since then was the mistake. The error.
Maybe it wasn't too late to fix.
***
Jim moved slowly through the living room. It was as close to pacing as he could manage with the cane a necessity and the pain in his leg. Even turning the dial down wasn't helping much.
Blair probably would have had a theory about why if he had been there.
If he was there. But he wasn't. Which was what was causing Jim's agitation in the first place.
His partner had been extremely quiet the last few days. Ever since Zeller's death and Simon's offer for him to become Jim's permanent and official partner, Blair had had little to say.
Completely understanding considering his Guide had just given up his life for him. Blair had sacrificed everything to keep him safe. To keep his secret. He didn't know how to thank him for that. How to express to him how much that meant, that he would *do* that.
So he said nothing.
And Blair said nothing.
So there was a whole lot of saying nothing going around.
Jim knew he had to say something, eventually. But he just couldn't. He couldn't make his mouth move, make the words come out. He didn't know where to begin, or where to end. He only knew what he felt in his heart.
But what he felt and what he could verbalize were so far separated that the Sentinel didn't know if Blair would ever truly understand.
He doubted it.
So he paced. Or at least tried to.
Jim knew that Blair should be home soon. He went to clear out his office at the University. Jim wanted to go with him but Blair had patiently refused, leaving a slow moving and wounded Sentinel to pace instead.
Succeeding in only getting more frustrated, Jim moved towards Blair's bedroom. If Blair wasn't home to calm him down, maybe being near his stuff would. He reached the closed doors and hesitated only a second before opening it and stepping inside.
Once he had, Jim wished he hadn't. The room was empty, except for the furniture and a few boxes, neatly stacked up against one wall.
He sucked in a deep breath, trying to restore the oxygen that fled his body at the sight. Feeling his legs give out, Jim slid to the floor, which like the rest of the room was clean.
Cleaner than ever before. Cleaner than it should have been.
He didn't know how long he sat there on the floor, trying to grasp the meaning of Blair's empty room before he heard the sound of his Guide's heartbeat. He couldn't seem to move, frozen in place on the floor.
"Jim?" Blair called out quietly. After a moment he made his way into his room.
"Jim!" Blair rushed forward and helped moved his friend from the floor to the edge of his bed.
"Are you alright? What happened? Did you zone?" Blair asked frantically. He didn't think it was a zone. Although Jim seemed to be in some sort of shock, it wasn't like a zone out.
"You're leaving." Jim's voice was hoarse, a testament to how long he must have been sitting on the floor.
Blair sighed and sat on the bed next to his friend. "Yes. I am."
"Why?" Jim asked quietly, daring to turn and look at Blair.
"Why not?" Blair countered.
When Jim didn't say anything but simply sucked in a deep breath, Blair stood up and began moving towards the row of boxes he still had to take downstairs.
"Can you tell me why I should stay? Give me a reason to stay, Jim. A real, honest, true reason."
Jim was silent for so long that Blair didn't think he would answer. Finally, with a pain-tinged voice, Jim spoke.
"I don't know what to say." He whispered. "I don't know what to tell you. What you want to hear."
Blair turned around to face his friend. "The truth. Tell me the truth, Jim."
As the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into even longer minutes, and neither man spoke again, Blair began to realize that Jim *couldn't* tell him what he needed to hear.
He sighed and began carrying the boxes out into the living room. Once there he hesitated a second before moving them to his car. When there was only one box left he picked it up and turned back to where Jim was still sitting on his bed.
"Jim." He nearly begged, though he wasn't sure what for.
"I can't." Jim looked up at Blair, their blue eyes locking. "I want to, but. I can't."
Blair looked away. "I can't do it for you and I can't wait for you any longer." He turned and walked out the door and out of Jim's life.
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