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It had been a month since the bullet felled him. Four weeks of endless hours lying in this hard hospital bed wanting to move, but not being able to. He was in a physical limbo; he couldn't feel half of his body and the half he could was assaulting every nerve he had. Sandburg was always telling him "Find the dial Jim, turn down the dial." He had been grabbing that imaginary dial so much lately that he was amazed it still existed. More than once he had almost snapped Sandburg's head off when he was guiding him. It really wasn't his fault, he was only doing his job as Guide. One thing about it, Sandburg was always there the next day no matter how much Jim had yelled the day before.
The doctors and nurses weren't helping matters much either. He amazed the medical staff since he had been conscious since day one. Yeah, that was him, Jim Ellison-source of wonder, medical anomaly, freak. No, he wasn't a freak. He had a gift, a very special gift. A gift that failed him in his hour of need. Who needed it? He was trying to be a super-cop and look where he ended up. A cripple, probably for life, completely blowing his career. Now all he had to look forward to was lying around being a burden to everyone, looking forward to his monthly disability checks. Where did it all go? One bullet, one shot, one instant and now it was all gone.
If only....if only what? If only he hadn't saved Sandburg? He couldn't think that way. Sandburg was not to blame for this, though you couldn't convince Blair of it. Everyday he comes into this room with a look of sorrow on his face and apologizing for not listening to the order to stay in the truck. He couldn't have stayed away, not on your life. What would happen to Sandburg now? Jim was certainly not going to make him stay around to take care of him. Seeing that sad face everyday making up for an accident that had everything to do with fate and nothing to do with him. Who could stand that? Jim had to leave his old life behind, start over with this new situation. He was no longer able to fulfill his role as a strong, sturdy cop, not to mention being the Sentinel of the Great City. He was finished.
"Jim, hey Jim? You zoning on me man?" Sandburg asked waving his hand in front of Ellison's face. "What is going on with you?"
"Sandburg, when did you get here?" Jim asked looking up. There wasn't much more movement he could do.
"I just got here, didn't you hear me?" Blair asked, looking puzzled.
"I was lost in thought, wasn't paying attention." That was an easy explanation.
"Contemplating the mysteries of the universe?" Blair chuckled.
"Yeah, I guess." Jim tried to fake a smile, but he didn't feel much like smiling. "What you got there?" Jim asked nodding at the plain brown box that Blair held.
"Guess," Sandburg offered as he sat down in a chair beside Jim's bed. "About time you get some more sensory tests in."
He was not in the mood for this. Why couldn't Sandburg just leave him alone? Wasn't it enough that he was a captive audience to all his stories about past anthropological expeditions? Did he also have to force sensory tests upon him? He was not going to get him of his back unless he cooperated though.
"Um," Jim pondered while taking a big breath, "Chocolate." Jim guessed.
"Chocolate?!" Blair exclaimed as he opened the box to reveal three glazed buttermilk doughnuts. "What is wrong with you? Are you telling me you couldn't smell them?"
"Well,....."The entrance of his physician, Dr. Hamilton, halted Jim's explanation. His sudden appearance had spooked Jim a bit and he didn't know if Sandburg saw his involuntary jerk or not. At least now he wouldn't have to think up an excuse for Blair.
"Oh, Mr. Ellison, looks like you're being fed well," Dr. Hamilton smiled as he saw the doughnuts still in Blair's lap. "How are we feeling this morning?"
Why did he always say WE? WE aren't in this bed, I am. Only half of that we can walk out of this room right now. Anger, Jim, control your anger.
"I'm fine doctor," he managed flatly.
"Well that's nice to hear," Dr. Hamilton said as he progressed to the foot of Jim's bed. "Why don't we catalogue what's going on this morning, shall we?" With that Dr. Hamilton took out his pen and proceeded to run it along Jim's foot. "Anything?"
"Nope, nothing," Jim replied testily.
Dr. Hamilton continued up Jim's leg, asking the same question and getting the same answer. When he got to the area around Jim's bandaged wound he was more gentle. Jim sucked his breath through his teeth as the doctor touched the area.
"That will be tender for a while, but it's healing nicely. The nurses tell me you refused their offer of a wheelchair yesterday." Dr. Hamilton moved back to the head of the bed. Sandburg stiffened at the doctor's casual remark.
"It's no big deal. They asked if I wanted to be wheeled outside and I told them I didn't. I just didn't feel up to it alright?"
"It's alright Mr. Ellison, you take your time. Whenever you're ready, just tell the nurses. I'm sure they'll be glad to escort you outside. The fresh air will do you a world of good. Well, I've got to go make rounds, but call me if you need anything." With that he left the room, leaving Blair staring at Jim with a questioning glance.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Jim was defensive.
"You've got to get up. The doctor has been telling you for a week now that you need to get used to sitting up, it will help the swelling."
"I will Chief," Jim lied. "I was just really tired yesterday, you saw me. I was dead tired." He knew Sandburg couldn't argue with that because he'd even commented on it and went home early so Jim could sleep.
"Well, yeah, but still...." Blair started. He fell quiet and looked out the window solemnly. His expression changed from calmness to indignation as he realized something he was supposed to remember. Turning back to Jim he began, "What's wrong with you?"
"I TOLD you I will get outside when I'm not so tired..." Jim began angrily. Blair raised his hand cut off his outburst.
"That's not what I mean, I meant with your senses," Blair sat forward in his chair, as if to keep this conversation as intimate as possible.
"My senses? What are you talking about?"
"You want a list? OK, you didn't hear me come in, you couldn't tell buttermilk doughnuts from chocolate, and you jerked when Dr. Hamilton came in, like you didn't expect him," Obviously he had noticed the jerk. "He had enough cologne on that even I could smell him coming. Now, TELL me what's wrong," Blair ordered.
"They're gone," Jim began. He had said it, now it had to be true.
"What did you say?" Blair questioned him, believing and hoping he'd heard him wrong.
"I said they're gone," Jim repeated, a little louder this time. "Suppressed, vanished, just gone. Everything's back to "normal" range, no Sentinel abilities at all."
He could tell by the bleak expression that crossed Blair's face that this had hit him just as hard as the accident. He should be thrilled, now he didn't have to be tied to some poor cripple with a chip on his shoulder. He could have his academic life, praise, fame, and most importantly safety. Obviously Blair wasn't thinking this way.
"Gone? Completely gone?" Blair stammered as he arose to pace around the room. "How long? Gone?!"
"Well, now you're getting the concept. Yes, they're gone. They've been fading in and out for the past couple of days and this morning they were gone completely. It's really for the best though."
"For the best?! The best of what?" he exclaimed as he sank back in the chair again. "You are a Sentinel, that's who you are. Now you're telling me that you're senses are gone and it's for the best?"
"Yes, for the best. I can't be a Sentinel like this..." Jim stalled. He took a deep breath before he started again. "My whole world is gone. I'm not a cop anymore, I'm not the Sentinel, I'm just Jim Ellison---paralyzed burden to society." He used the word. Was he really giving up hope so easily? No, he wasn't giving up hope of walking, but he really didn't need the problems of being a Sentinel anymore. He wasn't in any position to be a Protector to anybody right now.
"Number one, you are not a burden to anybody. Number two, you're not going to be in that bed for long. And finally, you can't just give up your Sentinel abilities; it's who you are."
"I gave it up. It's better for both of us. I can just be a normal, regular guy and you can be a safe graduate student who doesn't have to worry about following some freak of nature around crime scenes." He was really in a bad mood. Why couldn't Sandburg see his reasoning?
"Whoa! Freak of nature? Safe? What right have you got to make my decisions for me? I am your Guide, so this decision affects me too. I have never complained about where I go with you. If you want to just deny everything you know about yourself and live in some fantasy world where you're "normal" then go right ahead." Blair was almost exploding at this point.
"Look, you called me your "Blessed Protector" and I fulfilled that role when I saved you from that bullet, but that's where it ends. You owe me nothing, you need a life that's got nothing to do with Sentinels, Guides, police work, or life and death circumstances. I'll be lucky if I even walk again and you're talking to me about becoming Superman. It's not going to happen, it's over!"
Blair, shocked and hurt deeply, jumped up at the remark and left. He didn't say a word, just left. Jim called after him, "Chief, you're still my friend, that'll never end, just give up the fantasy." He never looked back. Great Ellison, now look at what you did. The kid's probably going to go do something really stupid and it'll be all your fault. What a day this started out to be. He needed to sleep; escape all of this terrible morning. He closed his eyes against the world of wheelchairs, lost senses, crumbling relationships, and life in general. Soon, sleep engulfed him....or was it something else?
He opened his eyes to familiar surroundings, the jungle. He was standing, that was a strange feeling. After a month of being bed-ridden he almost forgot the feeling. Incacha's voice brought him into this suspended reality once again.
"Enqueri, have you forgotten who you are?"
"No, Incacha, I have not forgotten, but I have failed my role. I can no longer be the Sentinel."
"You will always be the Sentinel. You failed your Guide, not your role. Why have you denied your identity?"
"I cannot walk Incacha, how can I be a Sentinel when I am paralyzed?" When he admitted it to himself there appeared another form at Incacha's feet. Looking closer he realized that it was him, his paralyzed self.
"Do you wish always to be him?" Incacha questioned as he motioned towards the broken form.
"No, I want to walk again, but at the moment I AM him."
"Where is your Guide?"
"He is gone, I do not need him."
"Why have you refused him?"
"I can no longer be the Sentinel, so I no longer need the Guide."
"You have denied him his place, it is not your decision to make. He is your Guide, as you are the Sentinel."
"But I have to protect him. He doesn't deserve to be burdened with me, the broken me. He can have a life."
"You are his life, his destiny. He cannot change his role as you cannot change yours."
"How can I fulfill my role if I can't even walk?"
"Physical wounds will heal, Enqueri, but you must confront the emotional ones. Accept who you are and you may go forward with who you are to become."
"Am I to become whole again?"
"I cannot answer that, it is up to you. If you accept your Sentinel being, then you can be restored, but not before." "I want to accept, but I am afraid."
"Fear is acceptance." Incacha motioned toward the broken figure at his feet and it disappeared. Jim felt pain return to his being as he collapsed at Incacha's feet.
The vision ended abruptly and Jim returned to his physical self. He lay in his hospital bed, still unable to move. He thought that the previous incident might have been due to the pain medicine, but he soon realized that he had his senses back. He could hear the nurses gossiping outside, he could smell the buttermilk doughnuts that Blair had left on the table beside the door, and he could read the well-wishing cards hanging on the opposite wall. At first he had second thoughts, maybe he shouldn't have accepted this fate. But soon he knew that he had to accept it to get better.
"Oh man! Chief!" the realization of their fight soon hit him. He reached for the phone, pain searing down his back. "Please don't be mad, please don't be mad," he kept hoping quietly as he dialed the loft and waited for Blair to answer. He thought that maybe Blair wasn't there, but after the third ring he picked up.
"Chief?" Jim asked tentatively.
"Yeah?" Blair sounded calmer than the last time they talked.
"We've got to talk; I need to apologize. Incacha showed me my errors."
"I saw him too, he helped me deal with all this. I've learned a lot."
"So have I Chief, so have I," Jim started. After a moment of silence between them Jim began again. "Chief?"
"Yeah Jim?"
"Could you come back to the hospital? I feel like taking a ride outside and I need someone to push my wheelchair."
Blair was silent for a moment before he replied, "Sure thing Jim, I'll always be there for you."