"Omigod. What have you done?" Blair whispered in horror.
The simple question ricocheted within his head for the slightest moment and then he was moving, running, ducking in between crates and trash littering the floor, barely aware of Blair's presence at his back, coming in hard and low just like he'd been taught.
Like the cat he embodied, he dropped down gracefully beside the fallen form of his captain and without thought he began applying pressure to the bleeding wound. Every sense was tuned into the tableau before him. All his focus was on the blood.
*FLASH*
Bright red blood.
Blood from a bullet.
A bullet from his gun.
So much blood.
*FLASH*
His subconscious barely recognised Blair's frantic pleas to the dispatcher for an ambulance. Without even trying, he could hear every one of his partner's hitching breaths as he tried to get out the call numbers for an officer down. It wasn't until he felt the warm wetness on the back of the hand that was desperately trying to stop his friend from bleeding out that he realised he was crying as well. With a muffled curse, pressing harder and harder, Jim watched hypnotised at the way the bright blood welled up between his fingers like pressing your hand into wet sand.
*FLASH*
So much blood.
*FLASH*
As his grief grew and his grip lightened, he was vaguely aware of Blair folding up the phone behind him, shoving him to one side, and knocking away his helpless, useless hands. At the change in pressure, the wounded man groaned in pain causing Blair to flinch and ease up. When he was sure Simon was just reacting and not regaining consciousness, he resumed the pressure.
Quietly, Jim took all of this in while he backed away, vaguely hearing the chant of his guide's voice, soft, over and over, "It's ok Simon, it's gonna be ok, shh, take it easy, it's ok, it's ok."
A flash of something caught his eye and he found himself turning away from the scene in front of him and looking down at the blood on his hands. His hands - red with blood.
*FLASH*
Simon's blood.
*FLASH*
And suddenly something inside him grew, bloomed, flowered, broke and he turned and ran from the blood demons chasing him.
Before he could get too far away, something inside of him stopped his frantic flight and wouldn't allow him to move any farther. Even from this distance, he could feel all of the heat draining from Simon's body and his long ago training kicked in as he violently wrenched off his jacket and returned to his friends. "We need to get him warm again. He's going into shock." As gently as he could, he placed the jacket around Simon covering Blair's hands hands that were the only things supplying their friend with a lifeline from drowning in his own blood.
In the background, Jim could just make out the mournful wails of the sirens en route and he prayed like he'd never prayed before they would make it in time. Standing watch like the Sentinel he was, his sense of Tribe narrowed to the two men on the ground in front of him and he wasn't aware of anything more until he found himself pushed out of the way again by the paramedics rushing to Simon's side.
"Jim. JIM. JIM!" A voice yelled at him from outside his self-imposed minuscule view. "Come on, man. Snap out of it! I need to know what happened and I need to know pretty quick."
Jim's sight opened up and he was able to take in the movements around him once again. As if a switch had been flicked, sound, touch and smell came back on-line and Jim finally registered the presence of Joel Taggert beside him. "Sorry, Joel, I I don't know what happened. I guess I must have "
Joel could tell his co-worker's attention was on the frantic motions behind them and he sympathised, but he needed answers. "I understand, buddy. He's my friend too, but he'd want us to carry on just like that was a regular joe over there. Now, I need to know all the facts and I need to know them ASAP, Detective."
"The facts, Joel? You want the facts?" Jim's soul ached as a desperate call from Blair and a flutter of Simon's heart signalled more crises. Using every technique his partner had taught him to ignore outside sounds, he focused on the man in front of him and answered with all of the conviction and self-anger he had weighing on him, "The fact is, I shot him, Joel. I aimed the gun. I fired. Simon went down.
*FLASH*
Movement to the right.
Glare off metal.
GUN!
Don't think - just do!
So loud.
Another shot? Blair? What happened?
Omigodomigodomigodomigodomigod!
So much blood.
*FLASH*
"I shot him, Joel. I thought he was the perp and I shot him."
Before the larger detective could reply, the small entourage of medics, Blair and Simon started moving toward the ambulance. As if an invisible line pulled him, Jim began to stumble his way towards them until an arm reached out and stopped him. "No, Ellison. Things are gonna be tight enough as it is with Blair along. You can ride with me cause they're gonna need as much room as possible to keep him going."
Latching on to that last statement, Jim's face twisted into a mask of pure anguish. "Keep him going?" Pain-filled blue eyes slowly raised until they were locked with the caring brown eyes of his friend. "It's bad?"
Joel Taggert had often been compared to a mountain throughout his life because of his quiet strength, but when faced with the quiet desperation of the man in front of him and the probable death of one of his oldest friends he couldn't fight the twin tears that fell down his cheeks. "It's bad."
*FLASH*
So much blood.
Simon!
*FLASH*
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Zeroing in on his partner's wild heartbeat, Jim willed his leaden feet to move faster into the trauma waiting room. Once there, he came to a complete and utter stop at the sight of Blair drenched in drying blood Simon's blood.
*FLASH*
"Look, Jim, I know you want Peterman pretty bad, but this hot-dogging isn't gonna do anything except get someone hurt or killed."
"*Sir*, we have the chance to get this scum off the streets for good and tiptoeing around isn't gonna get us anything other than another little kid's body down in the morgue! Now that's not something I want to deal with."
"You think I enjoyed having to tell those parents they're little girls weren't coming home again because some sick bastard wanted 'dolls' to play with? You think I don't want Peterman's head on a platter? Then you're wrong, Detective. I want nothing more than to see him put away and rotting for every one of those little lives he took, but not at the risk of my people's lives. What you're proposing is suicide, man!"
"If it gets him off the streets, it's an acceptable risk."
*FLASH*
So focused on his internal thoughts, Jim barely registered Joel coming up behind him and Blair wearily joining them. "How is he, Blair?"
The younger man looked like his spirit had drained away along with Simon's lifeblood as he had to clear his throat twice before speaking. "He coded twice on the way here. It took everything the medics had to bring him back the second time. The doc the doctors weren't being very optimistic when they took him back into the trauma room."
"They think he's gonna die?" Though it was posed as a question, Jim said it like a statement of fact.
"I don't want to hear talk like that, Ellison. I don't care what the damn doctors think. Simon's a fighter always has been and always will be and nothing's gonna change that. You got that?" Joel demanded first at Jim and then at Blair who both sluggishly nodded. "Good. Now, I'm gonna go and see if I can locate Daryl. I think Simon mentioned he was on night rotation for the next few weeks. If something happens have them page me."
Both men silently watched Joel head down the hall and like puppets whose strings had been cut, they dropped into seats, ignoring the colourful patterns of red they left in various spots. For a while, neither man seemed able to find his voice. People came and went in the waiting room with joy and sadness, but neither of them noticed because their thoughts weren't on the present, but rather on the past.
Blair finally shook himself from the fugue he'd been in since he'd arrived and looked over at his companion. "Can you hear anything?"
"No. Every time I try, I come up on some kind of interference. I just keep getting nothing."
"Are the senses gone?"
"No. I almost wish they were," Jim whispered tiredly.
"So, then what happened at the warehouse, man? I mean, one minute we're tracking Peterman and the next, Simon's down."
*FLASH*
GUN!
So much blood.
*FLASH*
"I don't know. I saw the flash off a gun to the right and I fired. I never saw S-Simon. It wasn't until I saw you fire and Peterman go down to the left that I realised something was wrong." Jim futilely wiped at his eyes, but instead of clearing them, he smeared more of the blood across them painting his face into some type of death mask.
*FLASH*
So much blood.
Bright, red blood.
Officer down!
Oh God.
Simon!
*FLASH*
"Jim?" A tentative voice called.
The bigger detective straightened in his seat as his heart lurched at the sound. Slowly he turned and instead of the face of a little boy desperately searching for his father, he found the fearful eyes of a young man seeking answers to his questions. "Daryl?" Jim stood and moved around Blair who was still seated. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come up."
Daryl Banks valiantly tried not to lose control in his patrol blues as he took in the bloody mess of his friends. He was an officer now albeit, a rookie but an officer nonetheless. He had to tap into that wellspring of strength his fellow brothers in blue relied on in times like this. He had to show everyone what Captain Simon Banks' boy was made of no matter how afraid he was. "I heard the call and Joel tagged me that it was my dad." He couldn't tear his eyes away from all of the blood. Could someone survive without that much blood? "H-how is he?"
Before either man could answer, a doctor ran from the trauma room calling out Simon's name. When he saw the three of them staring at him and the state of the clothes of two of them, he walked over to them. "You here for Simon Banks?" He watched the silent nods and continued. "We're trying to stabilise him so we can take him up to surgery right now. The bullet did some pretty nasty damage in his chest and abdomen and the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can start dealing with everything."
Jim couldn't stop himself - even though he really didn't want to know the answer. "What are his chances?"
"I don't like giving odds doesn't help the patient or the loved ones." He paused a moment at the stricken looks of the men in front of him and decided to offer them something. "Look, I've been doing this a while and I've seen people in a lot worse shape than him pull through. He seems strong and healthy and that's gonna go a long way in his favour. Just keep him in your prayers and think good thoughts." And as quickly as he'd arrived, he returned to his patient.
Daryl hadn't liked what the doctor had to say, but, he knew in all things medical, his hands were tied. So, instead, he turned his attention to the men in front of him and offered up a silent prayer for his dad. "What happened, guys? Joel wouldn't tell me anything. Did Peterman get the drop on him?"
Jim didn't want to do this, but he knew he owed Daryl this could possibly owe him so much more depending on the outcome of the night. Just as he was about to answer, Blair's hoarse voice rang out. "Jim and I were running over our plans for the warehouse when Simon drove up. He didn't seem too happy about us being there, especially without any backup, but he was there for us. He kept trying to get us to wait up, but Jim and I picked up on something from inside and we were scared Peterman was about to run."
Blair paused for a moment to clear his voice and then continued without looking at his partner. "Jim took off in the direction of the noise and I wasn't too far behind him because I really wanted this bastard as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Simon veer off toward the front. Jim and I made it in through the back and we slowly started our patrol making sure to watch each other's backs. We came up to what seemed like an opening in the various rows of boxes." He took another deep breath to try to calm himself, but he barely managed to contain the pain in his voice. "I'm not sure what happened next. Everything seemed to come in flashes. Jim seemed to catch sight of something to the right and fired and then I looked up and saw Peterman to the left aiming at us. I didn't even think before I fired; I wasn't even aware I hit him until he fell "
"But, if you took out the perp," Daryl interrupted confused, "how "
"I shot him, Daryl. I saw some of the light bounce off of your dad's gun and I thought it was Peterman. I-I didn't even think it could have been Simon. I "
*FLASH*
Surprised disbelief.
Falling, falling, falling.
So much blood.
*FLASH*
"I'm so sorry, Daryl." Tears started racing down his face as his stoic demeanour shattered. "I didn't mean to "
As the older, seasoned cop seemed to lose whatever control he'd been barely holding, the younger, newly-minted one stepped up and gathered him into his arms in comfort. "It's okay, Jim. It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone. It's gonna be okay. It wasn't your fault. I know that. It wasn't your fault."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Jim sat quietly looking at the almost lifeless figure of his friend and captain comatose in the bed. Banks was surrounded by all sorts of tubes and monitors and IVs that seemed to be the only things keeping him alive. He couldn't believe how pale Simon looked. The other times he'd seen his friend in the hospital, the other man had never looked this pale there'd always been a hint of life in his face. Now, there was nothing.
The doctors had gone in and repaired as much as they could and removed what they couldn't. According to them, Simon probably resembled a patchwork quilt on the inside but it still might not be enough. He'd lost a lot of blood and the trauma of having a bullet ricochet within him like a pinball had lowered his chances of survival considerably. They'd pulled Daryl to the side and warned him he might want to contact any family members that might want to say their goodbyes. The young man had taken the news bravely and had used his time after seeing his father to do just that. Jim could only admire the strength Daryl was showing and he vowed he'd let the younger Banks know how proud his father would be of him. Daryl deserved that.
But what did he deserve?
Even though the doctors had lifted the restrictions on the timed visits in ICU, Jim couldn't stop himself from looking down at his watch for the millionth time. He was just so restless!
Dammit! If only he could re-do it, he knew he'd do it differently. He wouldn't aim! He wouldn't fire! He wouldn't run!
Oh god. He'd almost run back there. When Simon had needed him the most, it had taken a pure force of will for him not to get as far away as he could. Every part of him had screamed for him to run from what he'd done and he had almost given into it.
Why?
*FLASH*
Blood.
Blair applying pressure.
A faltering heartbeat.
Run.
Hard to breathe.
Everything closing in.
RUN.
Simon's dying.
Acceptable risk.
RUN!
Acceptable risk.
So much blood.
*FLASH*
With a sigh of relief, he jumped up to answer the door as someone knocked. Seeing the man in a bad suit waiting on the other side, he quietly left the room and pulled the door closed behind him. "Can I help you?"
"Detective Ellison? Detective Sandburg said I might find you here." The man reached into his pocket, pulled out a wallet and flicked it open to reveal a badge and ID. "Lt. Valdez, IAD. I need to ask you a few questions."
"Of course. I've been waiting for you guys." He directed them to the waiting room at the end of the hall and positioned himself so that he could have a clear view of Simon's door. "Come to ask for my badge and gun?"
"Do I need to?" The IAD officer eyed the dishevelled appearance of the detective. Though he was now free of the blood and grime from the day before, Jim still looked like he'd been through the wringer. "Look, Ellison, I'm just here to listen to your story and make sure it flows with other accounts. I'm not out to hang you looks like you're doing enough of that yourself. I, like the brass, just want to know what happened so that we can figure out how to explain this. Okay?"
"Okay. I just haven't had the best of dealings with past IAD investigations. I don't want this one to turn into the same kind of thing."
"Understood. Just tell me what you know and what went down and everything will work out for the best."
Jim's eyes focused on the door that blocked his view of his friend and he offered another of many prayers, before he whispered, "From your mouth, to God's ears."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Simon still hadn't awakened from the coma three days later when Jim's IAD hearing began.
All of Major Crimes turned out in support of their fellow detective and Daryl sat on the other side of Blair letting everyone there know whose side he was on. This display was enough to convince most of the other attendees that Jim Ellison would be cleared of all wrongdoing and this incident would be relegated to some misfortunate accident.
However, it still unnerved Joel Taggert when he saw Lt. Valdez smile down at the folder he'd been given when he'd entered. In his time as an officer, a smile from an IAD detective was never good. He just hoped this time would be different.
"Detective James Ellison, please come forward." When Jim did, he was seated facing a standing Valdez. "Even though this isn't considered a formal hearing, you do understand that anything you say here will be considered under oath? Correct, Detective?" Seeing Jim's nod, Valdez continued. "Detective Ellison, could you state the events of October 18th of this year leading up to the friendly-fire shooting of Captain Simon Banks?"
In a clear, unwavering voice, Jim explained what had happened that fateful night giving precise details. Only when he described the immediate events leading up to Simon's shooting did he falter, but he regained his voice and continued on to the end.
"Is there anything else you'd like to add, Detective Ellison?"
"No, sir."
"Then you may return to your seat." The IAD officer waited until the man was settled before turning towards the younger man beside him. "Detective Blair Sandburg, please come forward." Blair did so and Valdez offered him a friendly smile. "Detective Sandburg, since I'm sure you understand the concept of being under oath as well, could you state the events of October 18th of this year leading up to the friendly-fire shooting of Captain Simon Banks?"
Just like his partner, Blair described what happened that night in his own words. Once he finished, Valdez again smiled at him and asked, "Is there anything else you'd like to add, Detective Sandburg?"
"Not that I can think of, sir."
"I see. Well then, I guess that's all." Blair stood, but before he could move back to his seat, Valdez blocked his path. "Sorry to do this, but I just thought of some other questions I needed to ask. Would you mind taking your seat again?" The younger detective frowned, but did as he was asked. "Thank you. Now, Detective Sandburg, how long have you been partnered with Detective Ellison?"
"Umm, officially, about a year."
"And, unofficially?"
"Well, when I served as an observer, I was paired up with him for about four years."
"And, am I to understand you also live with him?"
Blair was starting to feel uncomfortable. "We share a loft apartment. His room is upstairs and mine is down. We are not involved in any way other than as friends and partners on the job."
"I'm sorry, Detective, I wasn't implying you were. I was just trying to establish that you know Detective Ellison well well enough that you'd be able to decipher his various moods and state of mind."
"Yes, I believe I would."
"Good. Then how would you describe Detective Ellison's state of mind in the Peterman case?"
"Well, he was focused on bringing the man down. Jim was the one who found the last little girl's - Leslie Jenkins' body and he'd vowed he'd bring Peterman down. We all did - Simon included. The man was a butcher and it was ripping us all apart to see what he was doing to those girls."
"You said focused. Would you say he was so focused that he ignored regulations in order to go after Peterman."
"No, I would not."
"You wouldn't? That's interesting, especially considering your boss, Simon Banks, felt that way." Valdez removed a piece of paper from the file on his desk and placed it in front of the three officers at the head table. "This is a printout of Captain Banks' daily performance log for the 14th of October of this year. It clearly states that he had to reprimand Detective Ellison several times in his quest to get Peterman. It would seem that Ellison had set up unauthorised surveillance on the suspect and there was also some question of the detective harassing the man." He turned back to Blair. "Did you know about these incidents, Detective Sandburg?"
Blair swallowed as he looked out at his friend and partner. "Yes," he answered quietly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"I said, yes. I knew about those incidents."
"Knowing that Captain Banks is rather exceptional at his job, I'm sure he asked you about these situations before he logged them. Am I correct?"
"Yes, he asked me about them."
"And what was your response?"
"I tried to explain that Jim really wanted Peterman before he could hurt anyone else and that sometimes he got so focused he would forget certain things."
"Like, forget a person's basic rights?"
"Peterman wasn't a person. If you saw what he did to those little girls, you'd see him for the monster he was."
"Yes, but at that time, he was no more than a suspect. There was no hard proof he had anything to do with those deaths."
"Jim had !" Blair barely caught himself as he realised he'd been about to say something about his partner's senses.
"Jim had what, Detective Sandburg?"
"Jim had this gut feeling that it was Peterman."
Valdez chuckled softly. "I wasn't aware we convicted people on gut feelings."
"He was right, wasn't he?"
"Oh, yes, he was right." Valdez moved back to the file and checked something before returning his gaze to Blair. "Why did you go to Captain Banks on the afternoon of the 18th?"
Blair wasn't expecting the question and he blinked several times trying to grasp it. "I uh, needed to talk to Simon Captain Banks about something personal."
"Personal? You considered Detective Ellison's behaviour over the last few days in regards to the case as personal business?"
"No, I I was worried and I needed to talk to a friend."
"Oh, so since this was personal, why not talk to Detective Ellison? He's your friend, right?"
"I couldn't."
"Why couldn't you?" "Because it was Jim I was wo-worried about."
"And you thought Captain Banks could help you? Why? I mean, if this was personal, why go to your boss?"
"I thought he could help."
Valdez nodded and then moved closer to Blair. "Help with what?"
It was taking everything in Blair not to lash out at the man in front of him, but he managed to contain himself barely. With clenched teeth, he finally answered, "Jim had been getting deeper and deeper in the Peterman case and I was worried that with this new tip he had, he was going to get hurt."
"How did you describe Detective Ellison?"
"Beg pardon?"
"When you went in to see Captain Banks, how did you describe your partner?"
Blair'd had enough. "How am I supposed to know? I told you why I was there. How am I supposed to remember exactly what the hell I said?"
"Fair enough, Detective Sandburg." Valdez returned to the file folder and pulled out several stapled sheets this time and brought them to the front table. "This is the statement of Rhonda Anderson, administrative assistant to Captain Banks. If you will look at the top, Ms. Anderson states that she had been speaking with Captain Banks over the intercom prior to Detective Sandburg's arrival in the office and because of the intensity of the talk the intercom was forgotten. If you will move down to the centre of the first page, you will see that Ms. Anderson clearly heard Detective Sandburg describe Detective Ellison as 'out of control'." He turned back to Blair. "Do you remember this now, Detective?"
Blair paled as his memory took him back to that afternoon in glorious Technicolor. "Yes."
"What did the two of you talk about after you said that?"
"I I told Simon how Jim was in too deep with this case."
"Didn't you use the word, 'obsessing'?"
"Yes. I told Simon how Jim was barely eating or sleeping and how he took the files and pictures home every night. I told him how worried I was about him and how I felt this tip was a set-up."
"You asked the captain for a favour, didn't you?"
Closing his eyes, Blair nodded as he replied, "Yes."
"What was that favour?"
"I-I asked Simon to take us off the case."
"That's a pretty big favour. You were *that* worried?"
"Yes."
"And what was Captain Banks' reply?"
"Simon didn't get a chance to answer because Jim came in."
"'Jim came in.' Jim came in? You mean, he just casually strolled in like he hadn't a care in the world?"
"I said, he came in."
"According to Ms. Anderson's statement, he burst in rather angrily and confronted you both with conspiring behind his back. Is that a more accurate telling?"
"I suppose."
"You suppose. Well then, Detective Sandburg, what else do you suppose was said?"
"Simon tried to calm Jim and let him know we were just trying to look out for him. Jim said he understood that, but taking him off the case right before the tip played out was stupid and would get them nothing more than another Leslie "
*FLASH*
"Jim, there's no guarantee this tip will net us Peterman. Sandburg said your informant was too jumpy almost like he was coached to do this. I just think you're putting too much faith in this."
"And I think you're so scared of stepping on toes and getting your hand slapped by the brass that you're ignoring what your gut instincts are telling you."
"I'd watch myself if I were you, *Detective*. My gut is telling me you're on the edge and my instincts are screaming for me to pull back on your leash. You're walking a fine line without a net and I'm worried you're headed for a fall."
"Not with this one, Simon. I know it's right. Peterman is a creature of habit of course he's gonna head back to one of his shrines. We should count ourselves lucky that we have any idea which one."
"So, if you're so sure about this why won't you let me call in some backup? I could pull in Taggert, Connor, Rafe and Brown no problem and we could watch your back."
"And how is that gonna look to the brass if this doesn't pan out? Simon, this is my tip, my informant. He warned me there wouldn't be a lot of places for a group of cops to hide Peterman picked these places specifically because of that. My informant knows how much I want this guy and he's giving him to me."
"And doesn't that make you wary? It's too nice and neat. He's handing you Peterman tied up in a bow real life doesn't work that way."
"I trust him, Simon. On this, I'm willing to take a chance."
"Look, Jim, I know you want Peterman pretty bad, but this hot-dogging isn't gonna do anything except get someone hurt or killed."
"*Sir*, we have the chance to get this scum off the streets for good and tiptoeing around isn't gonna get us anything other than another little kid's body down in the morgue! Now that's not something I want to deal with."
"You think I enjoyed having to tell those parents they're little girls weren't coming home again because some sick bastard wanted 'dolls' to play with? You think I don't want Peterman's head on a platter? Then you're wrong, Detective. I want nothing more than to see him put away and rotting for every one of those little lives he took, but not at the risk of my people's lives. What you're proposing is suicide, man!"
"If it gets him off the streets, it's an acceptable risk."
"I don't agree, Ellison. Forget the tip."
"Simon!"
"You heard me. Forget. The. Tip."
"Is that an official order, *Sir*?"
"Yes."
"Dammit, Simon! If another little girl turns up dead, then it's gonna be on your head! Can you live with that?"
Simon shook his head and released a heart-wrenching sigh, "I'd rather live with that than have the blood of my friend on my hands."
"Yeah, well, we all have choices. I choose not to have another child calling out to me from the grave. My hands can always be washed."
*FLASH*
"Just a few more questions, Detective Sandburg." Valdez moved further away from Blair as if he sensed the young detective was fighting not to attack him. "Why did you go with Detective Ellison to the warehouse after Captain Banks ordered you not to?"
Blair was confused; this was a silly question. "Jim needed backup. As his partner and friend, I owed it to him to watch his back."
"Why do you think Captain Banks showed up?"
"What?"
"*Why* do you think Captain Banks showed up?"
"I guess because he was worried about us and he knew "
"And he knew what?"
"He knew Jim would be there."
"Against specific orders."
Sandburg hesitated. " Yes."
Valdez moved in like he was waiting for the kill. "Detective Sandburg, were you and Detective Ellison wearing vests that night?"
"Yes, we'd made it there early enough to outfit ourselves."
"How much time would you say elapsed between your arrival and Captain Banks?"
"I don't know. Maybe five or ten minutes."
"So, would you say there was still time before the informant said you should be there?"
"About ten minutes or so."
"Plenty of time for Captain Banks to say pull in, get out, yell a bit at you two for disobeying orders and then put on his vest?"
"I guess. I remember him getting out of the car with his vest and moving towards us. He was angry, but he was there for us. Not necessarily in an official capacity, but as a friend who wanted to make sure we'd be okay."
"Did you see Captain Banks put on his vest?"
"Uh, no."
"Why not? You said you saw him get out of the car with his vest and walk towards you. If he had it in hand, why didn't he put it on?"
"A-about that time we heard so-something from the warehouse and Jim and I were on the move."
"So, how would you describe Detective Ellison after you heard the noise from the warehouse? What was his state of mind?"
"I-I don't know if I can speak on his state of mind at that time."
One of the administrators moved forward in his seat and finally spoke, "Try, Detective Sandburg."
Blair's head dropped and his breath rasped out of his mouth. "He was determined to get Peterman. He was totally focused on what was ahead of him."
"I see." Valdez stepped away from Blair and turned to face a near broken Jim. "One final question, Detective. At any time while Detective Ellison was focused on getting Peterman, did he ever look behind him to see if Captain Banks had indeed put on his vest or to check for a position for his 'friend'?"
Blair knew the answer and he knew the others did as well, but still he fought it. A voice clearing beside him finally made him realise he couldn't avoid it no matter how much he wanted to. With eyes that shot fire at the man who was causing him to throw his partner to the hyenas, he had to answer if only slightly above a whisper, "No."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Suspended.
Suspended pending a full investigation that included a psyche evaluation. Possible charges would depend on several factors. Simon's recovery or lack of being the main one, but also the results of the psyche review and whether or not the DA thought he was worth making an example of or not.
Whatever the decision would be, he'd be lucky to make it out of this with his gold shield. Amazingly enough, he really couldn't prompt himself to feel much sadness about that. If it would make Simon come out of this okay and whole, then he'd willingly give up his badge, his gun, his freedom.
Jim couldn't think of any way to make this up to his friend no sacrifice could make this right. As he made his way up to ICU on the elevator, he kept trying to come up with something that would help Simon fix what he'd done. Nothing came to mind. If he was honest with himself, he didn't believe there was anything that *could* fix this.
As he passed the nurses' station, he thought he heard someone call his name, but it wasn't until a petite hand grasped his arm that he stopped dazedly.
"Detective Ellison?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry, but you can't go in to see Captain Banks."
"Oh, is his doctor in with him?"
The nurse couldn't look in his eyes and she seemed very nervous. She really hated this kind of thing. The man already looked so broken. "No, at the request of Captain Banks' family, you've been denied access to him."
"Denied ? Family?"
"Yes, Officer Daryl Banks asked that your name be removed from his father's visitor list. I'm really sorry."
Jim silently watched as the nurse went back to whatever duties she'd been doing before he'd arrived. He could tell she hadn't wanted to tell him of Daryl's decision and he didn't hold it against her. She was just doing her job.
Thoughts of jobs led him back to how all of this started and he had to close his eyes and brace himself for the recall of memories that had been plaguing him constantly. When he could finally open his eyes, they automatically sought out the door to his friend's room so peaceful, so quiet. Too quiet. He couldn't hear anything because his senses wouldn't allow him.
He didn't even try to wipe away the tears that fell down his granite cheeks as he stumbled towards the waiting room wall keeping the door in sight all the while. As he slowly sank to the floor rubbing his hands against his jacket as if he was trying to wipe something off of them, all he could do was whisper over and over again, "I'm sorry, Simon. So sorry."
Ende