The Golden Light

By: Ophelia

~~~~~

There was a muffled groan that filled the room; forcing Jim's head to snap in the direction he hoped was the bed. His sight nothing but a golden blur of images that would fade in and out, he reached for the bed rail in the hopes of pulling himself over to where Blair could see him.

"J...mmm" The voice was muffled and groggy.

"Right here Chief." He replied having finally found that damn railing, he pulled himself up subtly placing his hand on the bed and moving it up until he found Blair's hand. Ignoring the monitor's wires that were taped in place he held the hand tightly not sure how the Golden was effecting his friend. "Can you feel my hand?"

"Mmmm." Blair replied adding a slight nod that Jim never saw.

"How you feeling?" He tried to keep the conversation light, knowing from the sound of his guide's heart and breath Blair would be fading back out soon.

"Urgh..."

Jim had to smile at the simple word; gargled and muffled, said so much about the entire mood. "That good huh?"

"Mmm. F..rr..e pe..pl..e?"

"Gone Chief. Remember?" Jim hadn't known memory loss to be a side effect of the drug; he began to worry slightly.

"Uh... sss...rrr...y" Blair tried to speak more, but the respirator was keeping his ability to speak at a minimum.

"Hey, don't worry. You got them and we're all just happy you didn't hurt yourself or anyone else in the process." Jim patted the hand he still held, needing the connection with his guide now more then ever. He hadn't realized just how much he had needed it until first held the cool fingers.

"Umm." Again Blair nodded slightly, forgetting that Jim couldn't see him anyway.

"Blair, are your eyes open?" Ellison blushed slightly at the comment, hating that he still couldn't see and hating even more the images his mind was giving him of what Blair may look like whacked out on the drug. Hating even more the aloneness he was starting to feel at being disconnected from the world.

"Ye..h"

"Can you see?"

"Go..d. All G..ld. I'm sca..red." Tears leaked out of the corners of Blair's eyes. His body was in pain, he could barley move or breath, Jim needed him now more then ever and here he was letting everyone down - after shooting up the basement of the PD. How much more could one man screw up?

Jim smelled salt, the kind of salt he had long ago learned to connect with that of someone crying. And since it was only him and Sandburg in the room. "Hey Chief, come on now. None of that. You need too rest and just let the drug get out of your system."

"Scr..ewd up." There was a slight cough and Blair squeezed Jim's hand hard.

Waiting for the man to settle again, not liking the wheeze he was hearing Jim put on his best-relaxed smile face. "You didn't screw up Chief. No one but me could tell that pizza was drugged - hell Simon was about to eat it too. Just rest Blair, you didn't do anything wrong."

The grip on his hand eased up and Jim placed it back onto the blankets that covered his guide. Hearing the breaths coming short and raspy once more he knew the Blair was out. Reaching out with his foot he found the chair he had been sitting in and slowly he returned to his silent vigil. Lost again in his thoughts of just how much this man meant in his life, how much the friendship, care, and concern had come to mean to him. Slowly he leaned his head back and began wondering exactly when he had come to depend on this man he had learned to love in so many ways so much. How in the hell had Blair gotten into his heart and soul?

Hour's later Captain Simon Banks entered the room requesting an update.

The End.