Heartsick

By Gena

 

 

It wasn’t a lie.

It was a lot of things, but not really a lie. It was more like a wearing down, a huge grindstone stripping layer after layer away until nothing but a thin shell remained. Jim tried a smile, the kind which had come unbidden a million times before. Now he had to dredge it from the bottom of his soul, and pray that Blair would not see the hollow center, the emptiness it hid. "Have a great time, Chief," he called to his roommate’s disappearing back. The pain began immediately, starting inside his head but slowly burrowing mole-like down his spine, straight through his heart and down into the pit of his stomach. It hurt to move, to breathe, to think but that he considered a blessing because thinking was the one thing he did not wish to do. He sank down onto the couch and with the sound of the closing door, he gave into the pain, it dragged him down, surrounding, suffocating, filling him.

**

Carolyn Plummer felt foolish. It didn’t stop her but still that little voice all women possess, the one God had provided in Her infinite wisdom which could scream anything from ‘No, definitely not this loser!’ to ‘Do I really need another pair of shoes?’ was shouting inside her head. But it had never stopped her from doing something before and she wasn’t about to let it begin. Raising one hand she carefully knocked on the door of apartment 307 and waited. She was still waiting more than a minute later. The little voice was whispering ‘I told you so’ but just as she began to heed it’s order of retreat the door opened.

Her ex-husband stood framed in the doorway, shadow highlighted his chiseled features, the sculpted chest which never failed to quicken her heart gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat, and when Jim raised one hand, wiping at his brow the sleek muscles of his arm rippled, all of these combined to wring a frizz of desire from deep inside her. To cover the flash of embarrassed longing which swept through her, Carolyn took refuge in teasing him. "Well, Jimmy," she growled, "you’re looking all tired and tousled. Did I get you out of bed?"

He stepped back, somewhat unsteadily she was shocked to see. "I was asleep," he said, "I’m not feeling well." Her gaze swept the room, taking in the rumpled blanket on the couch, the dim lights, the heavy stillness in the air before returning to his face. She gave him a good, hard look. His skin had a pale sheen, his eyes were narrowed and lines of pain radiated from the corners.

"Jim, " she took his arm, her fingers noting the warmth of his skin, "let me get you something to drink." Carolyn was surprised he didn’t protest, Jim had never been a man who liked to be coddled. Where her other married friend’s complained about their husbands reverting to children when ill, demanding constant attention, Jim pulled in to himself. He didn’t like to be weak and didn’t want anyone to think him unwell. He got up and got his own medicine, he fixed his own soup, and when he threw up, did so with the bathroom door locked. She never would have admitted it to him, but this trait in her new husband had really hurt. Carolyn couldn’t blame Jim, he’d told her how his father berated weakness of any kind. William Ellison once sent his son to class, then shouted at him when an important meeting was interrupted by news that Jim had collapsed at school with a 106º fever and been taken to the hospital. Some lessons a child never forgets.

"Where’s Sandburg?" Carolyn couldn’t help but ask. Jim and the younger man were practically joined at the hip as far as she knew. She’d witnessed Blair’s attention to Jim, seen the hero worship in his eyes, somehow in her mind, it made him responsible for Jim’s well being.

"Date," Jim said quietly. She looked over to where her ex-husband sat, saw the slumped shoulders and bowed head. It tore at her, this sweet ache had been the main reason she married him, she’d wanted to comfort him, wanted him to lay his pain down at her feet and let himself be wrapped in her arms. He had been hurt inside and it shown like a beacon from his eyes.

His pain drew her, made her want to comfort him, but it had never happened. Jim never let go of his pain, he kept it like a shield, hiding behind it. She’d always thought that somehow her ex-husband had been convinced his suffered didn’t matter to anyone so it must be ignored. In the short time she had seen him with Sandburg Carolyn had noticed a slight change in Jim. He tried with the other man, he made an effort to share, it wasn’t always successful but it was a beginning.

"You didn’t tell him you were feeling ill, did you?" Carolyn asked. She set a glass of orange juice before him then took a seat on the opposite couch. Jim glared at her.

"Not ill," he maintained, "just a headache." She studied him, some intuition providing sudden clarity. Jim’s pain had a source, a source deep inside him.

"What……," she stopped then took a different tact, "Sandburg dating anyone special?" She watched Jim’s hand clench and knew she’d hit near the mark. "He doesn’t seem like the kind to stay with one woman for very long." Again her words caused a reaction, though not one she would have anticipated.

Jim groaned, the sound somewhere between anguish and bitter laughter, and leaned back against the cushions. "Jim? Come on, we’re old friends here." She moved closer, touching his arm lightly. He moved, capturing her fingers with his and squeezing gently. "Talk to me," Carolyn urged. It had never worked before, but in the passed three years Jim had changed, she’d seen it more clearly each time she returned for a visit. The gleam in his eye, the smile which burst from his heart, the lightness she sensed within him. All these things had appeared just about the same time Sandburg had arrived.

"Talk," he murmured. "You sound like Sandburg." He offered a smile then, a sickly cousin to the one she had come to expect when quizzing her ex on his roommate.

"You love him." Even as the words left her mouth, Carolyn saw Jim flinch, he pressed himself back harder against the cushion - a man trapped in a cage with a lion. Like a wound in her heart, understanding seeped into her mind. He expected people to walk away, to leave him if he cared so he tried never to care.

He had loved her in his way, kept her from the inner circle of his heart because he feared letting her close. Jim had a need to protect those weaker than himself and she had been in the beginning, but when his sheltering allowed her strength to grow, so too, had her desire to be all she could be. They had tore at each other, each wanting and needing but their goals too different. How many times had he pulled away after lovemaking, risen from their bed and stood looking out over the city?

Carolyn’s tears would lure him back to her, and he would hold her until morning but she had never held him, never been granted the right.

Love gifted that person so much power, leaving the other vulnerable. Carolyn wondered how she had been so blind before, this was what she was seeing now. Blair Sandburg, he had come out of nowhere and taken control from the first day, he had done things no one else would have ever attempted. He had pried open Jim Ellison’s shell, but danger lurked there, a raw place could fester if not treated properly. She could remember watching Sandburg at her ex-husband’s side, wondering what his role could possibly be. Jim had offered Sandburg so much in such a short time; trust, friendship, protection and finally love. There had been the rumors, a natural assumption in this day and age. Jim, married less than a year, a very private man with only a small circle of true friends, takes in a younger man, moves him into his apartment after barely a month and proceeds to treat him like a treasured possession. But no one had ever made a big deal of it, they saw the expression on Jim’s face as he watched Blair chase every woman within a ten mile radius and knew Jim didn’t have a chance. He wanted love and Blair didn’t seem likely to give it to him.

"Who doesn’t?" Jim murmured. "You here to call me a fool, Carolyn?" he queried. "Seems the Ellison Charm has hit a brick wall. I can’t even convince Sandburg I’m a real person." Puzzled brown eyes met his defeated blue eyes. Jim shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut in concentration. "Sandburg is……Sandburg is this insatiable sponge, soaking up experiences, knowledge, emotions, he wants it all." Jim laughed then, " how can I compete? All I want is a little happiness." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Is that too much?"

Carolyn patted his hand, "no, Jim, it isn’t." They sat there in silence, she stroking his long fingers, him looking out over the city once again. She imagined he was looking for Sandburg, wondering where the younger man was and when he would come back.

After some time Jim shifted.

"Why’d you come over?" he asked quietly, though Carolyn could see he knew the answer.

"Your birthday," she said with a smile. "Last month you said if I was in town……." She shrugged. They were still friends, Jim would always have a place in her heart. Still, since Sandburg had come into the picture Carolyn’s feelings for the kid had kept her from keeping many dates. It wasn’t that she hated Sandburg, she just didn’t understand the hold he seemed to have over Jim.

"I’m sorry, honey," Jim said. "Look, let me get cleaned up….."

"No, you’re tired and not feeling up to it." She grinned, "you go upstairs and climb into bed."

"I don’t want you to go." Jim took her hand again, smiling softly, a little sadly. She saw the friendly invitation and slapped duct tape over the little voice’s mouth before it could start in.

"Go on." He rose, embraced her tightly then turned for the stairs. Carolyn kept her feet firmly on the rug, knowing one move and they would go running up the stairs before she could stop them. Jim’s steps were slow, nothing like the graceful, almost feline, movement she had long associated with him. He trudged heavily up the stairs, weighed down by a longing she knew it was within her power to fulfill. When Jim reached the balcony he looked down at her, the clear eyes she had always thought cold as the sea, appeared transparent, resignation shown from their depths. "I’ll be right here," she made a scooting motion with her hand and watched him disappear from sight.

The loft echoed, not with sound, but with feelings. Somehow this place that she had always thought forbidding and empty now resonated with life. She wandered the living room, running her fingers over the books on the shelf, seeing Blair’s presence mingled with that of Jim. There existed a balance, a promise on the cusp of being fulfilled and it stemmed from the two men who shared this place. Jim’s strength shown in the furnishings, his straightforward approach fairly sang in the choices strewn about but if she looked closer, Carolyn saw Blair as well. Bold colors and primitive beauty nestled among the clear clean lines. Her Jim, the invincible man she had married so long ago, was no more. He had become someone else, someone with a heart afraid of being hurt once again but willing to try if given a chance.

A key in the lock surprised her, almost as much as her presence surprised Sandburg. "Whoa, Carolyn," Blair finally said.

His gaze swept the room, no doubt looking for his partner.

"Jim’s asleep upstairs," she pointed to the loft bedroom and watched different emotions flicker across the younger man’s face. The most vivid of these, concern made her add, "he’s got a terrible headache."

"Oh," Blair didn’t relax, in fact he began to fidget even more. "Uh, you didn’t bring any…..chemicals, plants, anything like that, did you?" For the life of her Carolyn couldn’t imagine what Sandburg was getting at. A frown drew her brows together, Blair quickly back peddled, "it’s just that Jim is really allergic to so many things. His headaches are usually a sign that he’s come in contact with something he shouldn’t." That answer, the almost voiced implication she was something Jim shouldn’t come in contact with, rankled his ex-wife.

"Sit down, Sandburg," she ordered. "You and I’ve got some talking to do." He took a seat on the smaller of the two couches, his causal sprawl suggesting this was his normal position. Carolyn could just imagine the two of them on their respective sofas, Sandburg with papers spread around him, Jim hogging the remote.

She almost smiled, but clamped down on it at the last moment. "I thought you had a date," she said. Sandburg blushed, looking much younger as color climbed his cheeks.

"That, uh, wasn’t exactly the truth," he confessed, looking like a child with a baseball bat caught by a neighbor with a broken window. Carolyn just stared at him until Blair went on. "We, Jim and I, have had a rough two weeks." Blair picked at a thread on his jeans, address his words to it rather than her.

"Yesterday was Jim’s birthday and…..," he stopped, looked up at her and grinned, "but I guess you knew that. Anyway, I wanted to get him a present without his knowing, so……"

Carolyn smiled, admitting quietly, "I had the same thought. What did you get him?" If she’d thought the blush made Sandburg look young, the dazzling smile he flashed knocked whole decades off his age. Blair dug into the pocket of his jeans and she half expected to see bits of string, a skate key or a bottlecap, instead he dragged out a silver chain. Like a hypnotist trying to mesmerize her, he swung the object back and forth slowly.

Carolyn stretched out a hand, the chain was warm from being in his pocket, smooth as silk, masculine but delicately beautiful. She told him as much and watched his smile brighten a fraction more. "It’s called Lagrimas de Dio," he explained. She lifted her eyes from it, meeting his. "I thought - I thought of Jim." He reeled the chain in, securing it in his pocket once again.

Neither spoke for some time, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Then Carolyn said, "he thinks he can’t compete with the other people in your life." Sandburg jerked as if struck, eyes going wide while his hands raked through his hair.

"What? Can’t compete?" He stared at her, head shaking as hard as if she had said the Earth was flat. "Jim can’t compete? My god, Jim is my life!"

"He doesn’t know it. He says he’s not even a real person to you," she frowned. "What did he mean by that anyway?"

Blair rose to his feet, stalking across to the balcony windows to stare out, mirroring Jim’s earlier stance. "Not a real person." The whispered words barely reached Carolyn where she sat. "How could he think that?"

Carolyn got to her feet, moving silently to his side. "Blair, I feel stupid saying this, but," she shrugged, "I think Jim loves you very much. More than he ever loved me, though he tried really hard. Please, for his sake, if you have any feelings for him, let him know." She touched his shoulder briefly, then turned away.

At the door she paused and looked back at him. Sandburg’s gaze was lifted towards the bedroom above. Slowly, like a man breaking free of a dream, Blair began to climb the stairs. Carolyn let herself out, ignoring the voice which called her a fool.

**

Jim didn’t open his eyes at the first touch - he couldn’t, that would break the spell. Blair’s hands caressed him, just as they had a million nights in his dreams. Everywhere those silken fingers touched tension drained away. The ache which had pounded inside his skull ebbed, leaving only a shimmering trail of delight. Wherever they skimmed it felt like Blair was bestowing a blessing, forgiving him for asking too much. Jim, his sense of touch dialed up so far he could feel the ridges of his guide’s fingertips, sighed, relaxing under the comfort he so desperately craved. Blair shifted, his hand came up feathering across Jim’s brow before his palm settled there gently.

"Jim?" Barely above a whisper, Blair’s voice reached through more than air to touch him. He heard it inside his head, inside his heart and smiled. "Carolyn said you didn’t feel well. Can you tell me what’s wrong?"

Jim took a deeper breath, surprised when he could. The bands of anxiety which had shackled him since his guide left must have fallen away with that loving touch. He opened his eyes, blinking up at Sandburg. Blair sat beside him, face pinched with concern, his hands stilled. "Don’t move, buddy," Blair ordered quietly, "I’m going to take care of you." He rose, a movement which rocked the mattress, but that wasn’t what drew a moan of despair from Ellison. It was the absence of those hands, the one thing able to hold everything at bay. "Shit. I’m sorry, Jim," Blair murmured. His hand settled back on Jim’s brow for an instant.

"I’ll be more careful." He was gone before Jim could protest.

Sentinel hearing tracked him throughout the loft, following him from the small room beneath Jim’s to the bathroom, to the kitchen and finally up the stairs.

The sentinel could smell the earthy scented water, hear it gently slapping the sides of the bowl with each of Blair’s steps.

Something else had been mixed in, lavender? He didn’t try to isolate them, just let their combined aroma fill him.

"Easy, Jim,"

Blair whispered. Jim didn’t open his eyes but he didn’t have to to know that Blair has set the basin beside his bed, and wrung out a cloth. Soon the raspy purr of his guide’s voice, coupled with the rhythmic caress of the scented cloth worked its magic. He could feel sleep stealing over him, sinking down like a dark cloud to enfold him.

He roused briefly when Blair started to move away but one word stopped him. "You want me to stay?" Blair asked. Jim nodded, sliding over to allow his guide to slip into the bed at his side. All that night Jim slept in his partner’s arms, held, and protected in a way he had never imagined he would be.

Morning sunlight poured over his closed eyelids like honey - warm and sweet. Jim stretched cautiously, in the back of his mind he’d expected pain to burst like a red balloon but nothing happened. He blinked open his eyes. He knew something had changed and let his mind filter through the swirling images which crept mouse-like from the darkness. Carolyn’s visit, yes, he could recall most of that. Horrible pain in his head coupled with the hollow jab of jealousy and self pity. Sandburg. Blair had left.

Jim frowned, that wasn’t right. He could remember Blair coming up the stairs to check on him, the delicious feeling of those hands on his brow and the ache inside which had made him beg Blair to stay.

And Blair had. Jim moved his hand slowly over the sheets, feeling the residual warmth of his guide’s body, he sniffed deeply and was rewarded with the heady fragrance of Blair’s aftershave and shampoo. That much had been real at least. Some of it hadn’t - tangled dreams of loneliness, of being cut loose and set adrift had plagued him during the long hours but Jim knew each time had woken with a start or moaned in despair those loving hands had returned, wiping away the pain. He rolled onto his back and an unfamiliar sensation startled him. Something glinted on his chest, a chain hung around his neck, silver links caught the sun, dazzling him. Jim laid his hand flat over his heart, using his fingers to map the smooth shape lying there rather than his eyes.

It had irregular corners, smoothed somehow, but nothing manmade. He could tell it was a stone of some sort, it picked up the warmth of his touch and the slick, almost liquid feel calmed him as he explored it.

"Jim?" The top of Blair’s head appeared, quickly followed by the whole package. "Hey, buddy, you awake?" Jim chuffed a laugh, Sandburg knew perfectly well his sentinel couldn’t sleep when asked a direct question by his guide.

"No." He watched Blair climb the rest of the stairs, a tray balanced in his hands. The welcoming aroma of coffee hit Jim’s nostrils making his throat feel parched as the desert. Blair set the tray on his nightstand then stood staring down at Jim. For a long moment Blair just looked at him. Jim shifted, unable to stay still during the scrutiny.

"You feeling any better?" Blair finally asked. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, his hip brushing Jim’s thigh. Ellison just stopped himself from reaching out, diverting his questing fingers by touching the stone resting over his heart. Blair smiled at the movement, his own hand joining Jim’s there for an instant before being pulled away. "Think you’re up to some breakfast?"

"I think so," Jim croaked. His throat felt raw, like he’d screamed half the night but the coffee revived him. Sandburg had fixed a very light breakfast toast, coffee, and, much to Jim’s delight, chocolate Malt O’ Meal. As he ate, Jim reveled in his partner’s full attention. It made him forget that one day Blair’s amazed interest would end and he would leave. He didn’t know how long he had loved Blair, maybe from the first day when Sandburg had dove in front of a garbage truck to save him. He certainly hadn’t wanted to love the younger man, he’d fought it tooth and nail, but that fight had been in vain. Blair never gave in, he got in Jim’s face and stayed there, he figured out the problem with Jim’s senses, he stuck to him even when bullets were flying, and if that wasn’t enough, he did crazy things like smiling at Jim or putting his arm around Jim’s waist as they walked.

So Ellison couldn’t help it, he let himself believe that Blair loved him, too. He told Sandburg sometimes, usually saying it like ‘you’re my friend and I love you’ but Blair never said it back to him. Still, it never mattered - until Blair began to report on the newest co-ed or the latest female patrol officer then Jim would remember that Blair was studying him, all he was was a project - The Sentinel. Those times, when he visualized Sandburg bouncing out of his life as suddenly as he’d bounced into it, anger enveloped him. He pushed, he ranted, he yelled, he tried to tell himself he didn’t need or want Sandburg around him. Blair ignored his efforts, smarting off, or worse, going silent but there was a certainty in his blue eyes which told Jim he had never fooled his guide. Blair knew he was loved, he came back when no one else would have.

Jim sighed, he hated being angry at Sandburg, it hurt. Not just because he said or did mean things to the one friend, the one person he loved, but because it physically made him feel like shit.

The headaches he’d never gotten use to would almost incapacitate him after a fight with his guide and with them came nausea and the horrifying sensation of his senses escaping his control. And the worst part was they came after Blair slammed the door shut, leaving him to stew in a mess of his own making. So why was this time different? Why had Blair broken the cycle? His hands were there, caring for Jim, taking away the pain and leaving soul deep relief in its wake. Ellison smiled up at the younger man, hoping like hell it was the "big brother" smiled he tried to perfect and not the "you’re my life" smile of which he knew he was capable.

"Ah, Jim," Blair whispered and Jim knew he’d gotten the smiles wrong. "I can’t stand to see you like this." There were tears in his eyes to prove the point. Blair turned away but the sight of those tears stayed with Jim. He replayed their sudden appearance all day and while he pondered their meaning he let Blair fuss over him. He examined each action; when Blair stayed beside him as he made his way down to the bathroom, Jim considered the reason, and when his partner insisted Jim head back up to his bed to rest, Jim thought about it.

Lying there with Blair seated on the mattress reading the paper aloud to him, Ellison’s mind wandered. Blair didn’t have to do these things, he didn’t have to smooth the blankets as if a wrinkle might be the end of the world, he didn’t have to fluff pillows or keep Jim company. He could have simply gotten Jim a couple of aspirins and a glass of water.

Something had changed. Jim cast a sidelong glance over at his partner, watching the mobile mouth breathe life into a report on the latest tax levy. Blair had been worried, he hadn’t once made a remark about Jim’s senses other than to determine if they were the reason he felt so awful. Ellison chewed his lip, what could it mean? His hand brushed over the stone at his throat once again and Blair’s words faltered. Jim looked over at his partner. "What kind of stone is this?"

Blair reached down, his fingers skimming Jim’s chest as he picked it up. His expression grew soft, eyes taking on a glow.

"Its called Lagrimas de Dio, God’s Tear." Jim shook his head slightly and Blair went on. "It’s just a beautiful stone from Mexico and it reminded me of - of a poem; ‘And God wept, for the beauty of man surpassed even that of his angels’." A flush stained Sandburg’s cheeks, "it reminded me of you, too." He dropped the necklace, pulling away but Jim caught his hand.

"I don’t know what to say," he whispered and it was true.

After so long, to see the look in Blair’s eye and understand exactly what it meant, he could hardly believe it.

"How ‘bout," Blair ducked his head, then raised it and met his partner’s gaze steadily, "how ‘bout saying I love you?"

Jim blinked, shook his head and then laughed. "I love you," he said. He reached up, both arms pulling Blair down on top of him and whispered it, "I love you."

And when those words were whispered back to him, the sentinel tightened his grip, vowing never to let go.