As usual, the standard characters of The Sentinel do not belong to me, but the others and the story belong to me.

A very special thanks to my beta, Zoe, for keeping my work honest and grammatically correct.

Also, a very special thanks to Lalinda for all the pertinent police related information.

OVERLOAD

Lady Sam Mallory

Part 1: Roan's Pain

Six Months Ago...

Michael Roan rocked hypnotically on the balls of his feet. What do I do now? he thought as he looked at the broken bodies of his wife Maureen and daughter Alexia.

He met Maureen when they were nineteen and in college. They married a year later and worked feverishly to finish school. To his dismay, she had worked an extra job as a waitress while he finished grad school. He had loved her since the first time he saw her smile.

Turning to the medical examiner, he whispered, "She was the most beautiful person I have ever known."

Dan Wolf looked at the man with a soft sadness in his eyes. Sometimes it was so damned difficult to remain detached from these people. "I am very sorry for your loss, Mr. Roan."

"My Alexia was supposed to turn seven next week. We were having her party on Saturday. I don't know what to do. What do I do now? Can you tell me?" Mr. Roan questioned angrily as the tears flowed freely down his face.

Dan Wolf swallowed the lump in his throat. This was always the hardest damn part of his job. He absolutely hated this part. Damnit, it didn't even have to happen, he thought angrily.

One week ago...

Michael Roan poured himself another drink from the bottle of Scotch. The news flashed in the background as something caught his interest. He cranked the volume up to penetrate his inebriated mind.

"Six months ago, tragedy struck Cascade as a woman and child were gunned down in Crown Jewelers on 5th Street. The perpetrators, brothers Mark and Jeff Riles, escaped with nearly $200,000 in diamonds and other valuable jewels. Both men, wanted in connection with the gruesome deaths of Maureen and Alexia Roan, were apprehended in Portland, Oregon, at approximately 6:00 PM Pacific Standard Time. It has been disclosed that the Riles brothers did not fire the shots that killed the Roans. Post mortem revealed that the bullets from both bodies were standard issue for the Cascade Police Department and S.W.A.T. teams. Chief of Police Warren declined to comment at this time, but a press conference has been scheduled for tomorrow at 3:00 PM Pacific Standard Time. This is Isabelle Sharp reporting for KCDE News."

Blair turned the sound down on the television. "That doesn't make us look very good. I wouldn't want to be in Chief Warren's shoes right now " Blair said grimacing.

"Well, I'm gonna turn in, Chief. It's late and we have to be at work early tomorrow. Goodnight, Blair," Jim said with a wave as he made his way up the stairs to his room.

"Goodnight, Jim. See ya in the morning," he replied tiredly. Blair had been pulling double duty this week. Rumors were that Professor Roan had been drinking excessively and had struck a student in his office. He was on suspension while the Board looked into the matter. Blair had been asked by Roan himself to take over his classes until a sub could be found. He'd been teaching his own classes as well as Roan's for over a week. Add that to the time he spent working with Jim and on his thesis and he had spread himself a little thin.

Blair dragged himself off the couch, set his drink on the coffee table and went off to bed.

Part 2: Roan's Revenge

Current time...

Jim hollered as he grabbed the keys to the Expedition, "Come on, Blair, we're already late. Simon's gonna be pissed. Get a move on!"

Blair grabbed his backpack as he ran from his room. "Sorry, man, class ran late. Coming," he yelled as he locked the door and ran after Jim.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at 12th and Stanford in response to Captain Banks' orders.

Jim hurried to the scene, "What have we got?"

"A double homicide, each man was shot through the heart at close range. I'll have more details when the autopsies are performed. I'll get the reports to you ASAP," Dan informed Jim of his preliminary findings.

Jim and Blair walked into the warehouse to check out the crime scene. Once inside, Jim walked over to where the bodies had been found, but there was very little there.

He walked the perimeter of the room looking for anything, and saw a very small metallic gleaming from across the room. Jim covered the room in a few strides and picked up the metallic shards with a gloved hand, dropping them into an evidence bag.

"What did you find, Jim?" Blair asked, crossing the room.

"Maybe some shell casings. I think the perp waited here for the guards and then killed them. The guards didn't surprise a burglar; they were specific targets," Jim pieced together.

Suddenly, Jim swayed on his feet and felt the ground lurch below him. Blair grabbed him to keep him from falling.

"Jim! What is it?" Blair asked, trying not to bring undue attention to his collapsing partner.

"I suddenly felt dizzy. It's that smell. I know I've smelled it before, but I can't place it," Jim replied introspectively as he swayed again.

"Well, whatever it is. You need some fresh air... now! It'll look a little suspicious if I have to carry you out of here. Come on, Jim, let's go!" Blair directed, as he pulled Jim away from the crime scene toward the main entrance.

Without warning, Blair and Jim were hurled through the double glass doors by a horrendously loud explosion that rocked the building to its rafters.

Blair lay on the ground, coughing and groaning, "What the hell was that, Jim?"

When there was no answer, he tried again. "Jim? Jim, where are you?" Blair called, his voice shaking with pain and fear. He tried to push himself to his feet but settled for his hands and knees instead. Looking around, he spied Jim about 5 feet behind him and crawled over to him.

Jim moaned as Blair beat his legs repeatedly to put out the blaze that had started there. Once the fire was out, he turned Jim over and gasped at what he saw. A gash above his right eye bled profusely down the side of his head into the channel of his right ear.

"Oh, God!" Blair cried as he shouted over the flames for the paramedics. He realized that he would have to leave Jim for a few minutes to get some help. His head felt like it would fall off, but he covered the distance in about 20 seconds.

The paramedics ran over loaded with gear and began to work on Jim, who was now very conscious and even more pissed off.

Jim tried to push them away. "I'm fine, thanks. Now, back off," he threatened.

"He's gonna be fine, grumpy, but fine. We would like to take him in and get him checked out. You too," the paramedic informed them authoritatively. Turning to Blair, the paramedic reached out for him, "Let me see your hands; they aren't looking too good."

Blair started as he realized that his concern for his partner had superceded his knowledge of his own condition. He looked down at his hands to see they were heavily cut up and pieces of glass were imbedded in them.

"Jesus, Chief. Don't tell me you didn't notice that!" Jim chided.

"I didn't," Blair replied dumbfounded, suddenly swaying on his feet. Jim grabbed his partner around the waist and helped him to the ambulance.

"Are you guys okay?" Captain Banks shouted, out of breath from his sprint onto the scene. "What the hell happened here?"

Jim turned to answer the Captain, "Sir, we were..."

The paramedic interrupted, "Oh no, you can talk to them at the hospital. Let's go!" He shut the doors to the back of the ambulance and pounded on the cab to let his partner know all was ready. The ambulance pulled out and headed for Englewood General Hospital.

Blair hissed in pain when the ER doctor pulled another piece of glass from his hands.

"This looks pretty bad, Chief." Jim rubbed his eyes trying to stave off the headache forming there.

"Sir, are you sure you don't want a local? I could do this a lot faster if you weren't flinching," questioned the doctor.

"I'm... good... no... drugs," Blair managed through clenched teeth.

"OK, well I've got a couple more pieces in this hand and then I'll debride the other one. Just tell me if you change your mind on the local. Are you current on your tetanus?"

"Unbelievably current," Jim answered amusedly. "Tell you what, Blair, why don't we go to Bobby H's for steak sandwiches when you're finished up here."

"It'll take at least another 30 minutes to finish the debridement. I need to check his knees out too. You said you crawled on your hands and knees over to your partner before running for the paramedics. From the amount of glass in your hands, you could have some in your knees as well," the doctor finished.

Jim looked away. He had briefly lost consciousness and hadn't realized that Blair's injuries had been inflicted from his attempt to help him. Blair could be so stubborn. If he had waited for the paramedics, he would have been fine.

Blair noticed Jim's dive into the guilt zone and spoke to him comfortingly. "Jim, this wasn't your fault. I'm the one who crawled through the glass. Truth is I was so focused on getting to you that I didn't notice it."

"Well, try to watch out from now on!" Jim snapped at him.

Blair drew back surprised by Jim's forcefulness. "You bet," he replied with a smile.

"Okay, we're done here. There are abrasions and lacerations on your knees, but no glass fragments. Looks like you guys were pretty lucky," the doctor reminded them.

"Yeah, well, Jim's got a thick skull," Blair teased.

Jim shot him a dirty look as Blair dragged himself carefully from the table.

"Here are your prescriptions, Mr. Sandburg and here's one for you, Detective Ellison," the doctor stated as he handed them each their scripts.

Jim paused as he looked at the prescription the doctor had handed him. He looked up at Blair who looked him in the eye as they said simultaneously, "Sedative." They crumpled the scripts up and shoved them into their coat pockets heading to the lobby as fast as they were able.

"Oh, shit, man," Blair swore.

"What is it?" Jim asked concerned for his welfare. Maybe he was hurting more than he let on.

"Jim, we both rode in the ambulance, so we don't have a car here," Blair replied annoyed.

"I was wondering how long it would take you guys to figure that out," Simon joked, laughing. "Need a ride? You can fill me in on the details of the crime scene on the way."

They climbed into Simon's brown Chrysler and drove toward the crime scene.

Simon waited until everyone had settled in before barking, "What the hell happened in there?"

"Well, Simon, as near as I can figure, the guy waited for the two guards to surface and then shot them in the chest. There were metal shards resembling shell casings on the floor and the impression left in the dust where he was standing suggests a man with fairly large hiking boots on. What were the damages to us?" Jim brought himself to ask.

"Six men dead and about 12 others wounded, although several of the wounded were from the ME's office and the Cascade Fire Department," Simon replied bitterly.

"Was Dan Wolf hurt in the explosion?" Blair questioned.

"No, he'd already taken the bodies downtown to start the autopsies. He's fine, although a bit shaken."

Blair nodded affirmatively and resumed looking out the window. He had to teach one of Michael's classes at 7:00 in the morning, and it was already one AM. He rubbed the tension from his eyes and groaned at the pain in his hands. He sighed heavily.

"What is it, Chief?" Jim said turning to see his partner in the back seat.

"It's nothing," Blair quietly replied. At Jim's questioning look, he replied, "It's late and I've got to teach a very early class. That's all."

"Why don't you try to catch some shut eye on the way back to the truck?" Simon interjected.

Blair leaned back in the seat, shutting out the world as he tried to get some rest.

Part 3: Roan's Rage

Blair finished up his morning lecture and made his way back to his office. He was dragging from his late night, and the fatigue showed plainly on his face. He started upon entering his office to find someone already there.

"Michael! You scared me to death!" Blair cried out, catching his breath.

"Sorry about that. I just wanted to see how my classes were going," Roan said, then caught his breath as he looked up at his friend. "Oh my God, Blair, you're really gonna have to stop riding your bike to work if it causes that kind of damage," he teased. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Nothing much..." his voice trailed off and then he caught the look in Michael's eyes, "Alright, You know I work with the Cascade police. A warehouse blew up and I happened to be in it. Lucky me!" Blair finished.

Michael turned white as a sheet, "Oh my God, Blair, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It just hurts like hell to write, so I'm doing verbal lectures only. Hope they're paying attention," he said slyly, eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Maybe you should take some time off from the police department. I mean with your classes and mine, as well as your thesis, you have a lot going on already. It wouldn't hurt you to take some time off," Michael all but begged of his friend.

Looking up at his friend's pale face, Blair reinforced, "Michael, I'm okay, really. Thanks for your concern though. Some days I can use all the friends I can get." Blair smiled up at him from his desk as Michael walked out the door.

Roan hurried back to his office, his mind racing. I must be more careful. I forgot that Blair worked with the police. He could have been killed in that explosion last night, and I can't let that happen, he finished his thought angrily.

Jim slammed the file down on his desk. "Easy Jim," Blair chided as he came in the door to the Major Crimes Unit. "What's the matter?"

"I've got 6 dead cops and I can't concentrate on this damn report long enough to make any sense of the forensic evidence. It's starting to really piss me off," he yelled at his Guide, rubbing his head from the aching there.

"Got news for you, Jim. You're already way passed pissed off," Blair teased trying to lighten the tension a little. "Let me see it. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes is all you need."

Blair took the file and began to leaf through the pages slowly. "Did you talk to Dan, yet?"

"No, I wanted to look at the forensic file first," Jim snapped.

"Really, Jim, you need to chill out," Blair warned.

"Let's get downstairs to the morgue," Jim barked.

Blair shrugged and followed the Sentinel down to the morgue. Dan was working on one of the bodies when they arrived.

"The victim is a white male, age 34, weight: 195 pounds..." he stopped abruptly as he noticed the officers enter, pressing pause on his tape recorder. "I don't have a lot yet, gentleman, but here's what I've got. The two shooting victims were shot with a 9mm handgun, which isn't that interesting because that's a pretty common gun," he began.

"C'mon Dan, get on with it!" Jim harassed.

"The bullets in the bodies were each marked M.A., and each victim was shot in the heart from about 10 feet away. There are no signs of a struggle, no defensive markings on the bodies of any kind. They both died instantly," he finished as he handed the marked bullets to Detective Ellison.

Jim scowled as he looked the bullets over. "I need a picture of these for the file, Dan," Jim stated without looking up, just before he stalked out of the room.

"Yeah, sure," Dan replied to Jim's retreating back. He turned to Blair, "What's his problem? He's never that much of an ass!"

"I wish I knew, but he's not talkin'. Thanks again, Dan," Blair stated as he went to find his very disturbed partner.

Blair found Jim heading out the door to the Expedition. "C'mon Blair, we got a lead on that bombing," Jim grumbled, slamming open the door.

Blair nodded and followed him to the truck. It's gonna be a long day, Blair thought sullenly, shaking his head.

Michael Roan tucked the picture of his wife and daughter into the pocket of his jacket. He picked up the bullets and began labeling the few he knew he would need for the next mission.

Looking over his checklist, he ensured that all was accounted for. He had his tools, his gun, and his target. This time he would make sure that Blair was out of the building as well as the ME who had been so gracious to a despairing man. He hauled his duffel bag over his shoulder and headed out the front door.

Jim pulled into a parking place at Butler Point and was out of the truck before he shut off the engine. His stride caused Blair to jog to keep up and a scowl creased his features.

He spotted his snitch near the water's edge and made a beeline toward him.

"What's up, Ellison?" his snitch inquired.

"What have you heard, Bobby?" he asked impatiently.

"Well, there's not a lot of talk on the streets about the bastards doing this. I don't know what to tell you. I told you when you called it'd be a waste for us to get together, but you wouldn't hear me."

Jim grabbed him by the collar and hauled him a foot off the ground. "You listen here, weasel, you either tell me what you know or I'm gonna break your pathetic little neck," Jim shouted in the shaking man's face.

"Jim! Put him down, man. What the hell are you doing?" Blair pried Jim's hands off of Bobby.

Jim dropped the man to the ground and rubbed the tension from his head. "Sorry, Bobby. It's just that there's so many people dying here," Jim apologized.

"It's okay, but Jim this isn't professional or I'd know about it. It's personal. Some guy's declared war on the cops and he's pissed, so you guys watch your backs. I'll call if I hear anything," Bobby finished as he turned the collar up on his coat and walked away.

"Jim, what's the matter with you? You've been acting weird all day. I mean weirder than usual, man," he teased.

"I'm just edgy and I've got a headache. Maybe we can call it a night?" He got into the truck and waited for Blair to join him.

He slammed the truck into drive and shot out of the parking lot recklessly.

Blair held his tongue, knowing that whatever was bothering Jim would have to wait. It was obvious he was in no mood to talk about it. After a long, silent drive to Prospect Street, Jim and Blair finally reached the loft in one piece.

Blair sighed heavily as they entered the loft, "I'm exhausted, Jim. I'm gonna head off to bed, but I'll see you in the morning."

Jim nodded and muttered, "Goodnight, Chief" as he headed up the stairs to his room. He peeled off his clothes and thought about a long hot shower, but he was too tired and dropped into the bed instead. His head was pounding to the beat of his heart and after an hour of trying to fall asleep, he padded down the stairs in search of some aspirin. He popped the top off the bottle as blinding pain ripped through his head bringing him to his knees.

He gasped, trying not to call out and alert Blair, but the pain was so intense that tears streaked down his face, and he laid down on the floor feeling its coldness seep into his body. Jim wasn't sure how long he had been "resting" on the floor, but he dragged himself to the couch and thanked God that Blair hadn't found him like that. He would not be taken off this case!

Blair heard ringing in his head. What was that? Oh right, the phone, he thought, trying to shake the sleep from his head. He looked at the clock. "Oh, man, come on it's 3 AM," he grumbled as he reached for the phone.

"It's 3AM, What?" Blair hissed the words at the offensive intruder on his well-deserved coma.

"Blair, it's Simon. You and Jim need to get over here right away. It's happened again."

"Crap, where?"

"The old Olympia Building, 3300 Bancroft right now," Simon ordered with a distinct edge to his voice.

"We're on our way," Blair said hanging up the phone. He pulled on some clothes and rushed out the door to meet Jim, who probably heard the whole conversation and was waiting impatiently for him to dress.

Blair stopped cold when he saw Jim asleep on the couch. He looked a little pale, but he was sleeping. He hadn't heard the phone ring or the devastating news that the early morning call had imparted.

"Jim, wake up," Blair coaxed, shaking his partner gently. Jim groaned and his eyes flew open suddenly.

"What is it, Chief? You okay?" Jim sat up quickly, regretting it immediately as the room began to spin.

"You okay, man? 'Cause you don't look right," Blair interrogated.

"I'm just very tired; probably been working too much," Jim shrugged off Blair's concern.

"Simon called. There's been a murder at 3300 Bancroft, and Simon wants us over there right away. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Just drop it, will ya? I got go get dressed," he replied racing up the stairs two at a time.

Twenty minutes later, Blair and Jim arrived on a scene that showed vague similarities to the night before. Blair shivered as he watched the smoke billow from the smoldering building.

"You sure you're up for this, Chief?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Blair answered slowly.

Simon led them through the smoking debris, once they had been cleared by the Cascade Fire Department.

"The bodies were found here," Simon began. "Two men shot in the chest like before. Only these officers were on duty. The Watch Commander confirmed that they were responding to a call and were in foot pursuit of a rapist. Their back up arrived shortly after and all five police officers died when the building blew up minutes later." He glanced at Jim with a haunted look. "Jim, the perpetrator was found in the building bound and gagged. The officers had just called that in when the building blew."

Part 4: Roan's Undoing

The bullpen was bursting with energy as officers raced to finish their reports. The tension was tangible, as Captain Banks ordered every officer to be quiet so the briefing could begin.

"We need your best theories on what the hell is going down here. Someone out there has declared war on the police, and we've lost 11 good people to this madman. So let me hear what you've got," Simon demanded. "One at a time," he warned when everyone spoke at once.

"Well, it's definitely personal. This guy signs his bullets," Rafe started the frenzy.

"He's only after cops. He waited for the ME and most of the support personnel to leave the first site before it was blown. He could have just blown the whole lot of us," Megan Connors added.

Blair was skimming the articles in The Cascade Times when he came across an article about his friend, Michael Roan. The article described in gory detail the deaths of his wife and daughter and the fact that Internal Affairs was looking at the case.

Below the story was a picture of the Roans labeled with all their names, Maureen, Michael and Alexia Roan. Blair turned away. He couldn't imagine losing everyone he loved and still finding the strength to go on.

Blair leaned over to Jim and whispered, "What were those initials again?"

"MA," Jim shot with a look that screamed pay attention.

"Maureen and Alexia Roan," he whispered to no one in particular. Louder he asked, "What if the initials aren't a signature but a remembrance for his retribution?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Sandburg?" Jim groused.

"Hear me out. Michael Roan lost his family about six months ago when the SWAT team stormed the jewelry store and ended up shooting two hostages instead of the bad guys. Only SWAT covered that little fact up until just recently. Last week, I saw a newscast that broke the story of the cover-up."

"Yeah, I remember that," Rafe interjected.

Blair continued, "He's been drinking a lot and was suspended from the university a few days before all this started. He came to see me the morning after the first explosion and totally freaked when he found out I had been there. He would also be avoiding Dan Wolf because Michael once told me that Dan had been so supportive when he ID'd the bodies that he couldn't have survived it without him." Blair looked away, tears stinging his eyes. "It all fits, but I can't believe that Michael could cause this kind of damage. He's a respected anthropologist who doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

"Listen, Chief. We don't know it was him for sure, so let's not jump to any conclusions," Jim cautioned.

"I think I know how we could find out for sure," Simon started. "We give him a target he won't be able to resist."

Part 5: Roan's Ensnaring

"Tomorrow at 7:00 PM Pacific Standard Time, the Cascade Police Department, will be holding a memorial service for their fallen comrades in arms at the Hotel Devonshire. Eleven peace officers have lost their lives this week in an attack that can only be described as a siege on the police. Chief Warren disclosed that extra security would be on hand for this most solemn occasion. One can only hope that this madness will come to a peaceful resolution before further loss of life. Our hearts go out to the families of these brave men and women who selflessly gave their lives for our protection. This is Isabelle Sharp reporting live for KCDE News at 11."

Michael Roan threw the remote at the television set. He would have to ensure that those bastards didn't get away with the death of his baby and beautiful wife. He would make them all pay. He left the house hurriedly to get started on what he knew he must do.

Blair loosened his tie. "I hate these things," he whispered to Jim.

"What, the service or the tie?" Jim responded.

"Yes," Blair answered seriously.

Jim stifled a smile.

The bomb squad had gone over the hall with a fine tooth comb, even using the dogs to locate the explosives to be used. The dogs discovered the bombs in short order, and the bomb squad had disabled the bombs and set up enough "fireworks" to be convincing. The rest of the hotel had been evacuated and taken over by undercover police officers a few hours before the announcement went out to the public. All access was strictly monitored.

All officers were on alert and the room was ready for the show as the cameras double-checked their angles. Although it was tight, they were ready to begin the "memorial service" on time and the commissioner began his speech. As the commissioner finished his speech, the room exploded in a frenzy of noise and fire.

Jim pushed Blair under the row of chairs as fiery debris rained down all around them.

"You okay, Chief?" Jim shook his partner gently. "Blair?" Jim gasped as he turned Blair over and saw the blood matting his curly hair. "We need the paramedics over here right now," he yelled forcefully.

The paramedics rushed to his side and started working on Blair. "I'm sorry, Detective, but he didn't make it," the paramedic whispered softly.

Jim's eyes widened as he held Blair in his arms. Tears were running down his face, and he could hardly see or hear anything. Simon saw that Jim was overloading and beginning to lose control. He extricated Blair respectfully from Jim's arms and led him away from the scene.

"OK, and we're clear," the cameraman reported as Jim walked over to help Blair up to his feet. "Nice bit of acting gentleman. There may even be an Emmy in it for you guys," he stated mischievously.

"Now we see if our man takes the bait," Simon said patiently.

"That was the scene tonight as tragedy struck the memorial service when a bomb exploded killing Police Observer Blair Sandburg. He had worked in the Major Crimes Unit for three years and was a Teaching Assistant in Rainier University's Anthropology Department. Services for Mr. Sandburg are to be held tomorrow morning at Chiang Kai-Shek Park Prayer Beach at 9:00AM. This is Isabelle Sharp reporting live for KCDE from the Devonshire."

Michael Roan sat in shock as the story played out on the television. He stared at Blair's broken body as the paramedics fought to save him and his partner's despair at the loss of his friend. He had killed the only person who stood by him and helped him through the loss of his wife and child. What had he done?

Michael Roan walked purposefully to the coffin in which his friend was to be buried. Looking down at Blair's still form in the coffin, Michael had never imagined he would take it this far. They had killed his family, but he had taken retribution for that action and inadvertently taken the life of his friend.

"I'm sorry, Blair," he whispered beneath his breath. "You weren't supposed to be there. They deserved what I did to them, but you didn't. Damnit, I warned you to take some time off. I was trying to protect you," he finished sadly.

"You might have succeeded if you hadn't tried to blow me to hell!" Blair answered coldly.

Roan jumped back, his eyes widened in shock. "What...the..?

"How could you do it, Michael?" Blair accused, his eyes tinged with pain. "I trusted you. You were my friend, you bastard," he spat angrily between clenched teeth. "Please get him out of my sight." Blair turned away, tears running down his cheeks as he tried to crawl out of the coffin.

Michael made one last attempt to escape. Grabbing his escort's gun from his holster, he spun on Blair. Sensing his Guide's danger, Jim dropped Roan with a single shot in the right shoulder, then threw him on the ground face down and handcuffed him.

Several hours had passed since the frenzy at the park. Blair was resting, while Jim made dinner. His headache hadn't dissipated and he considered taking another aspirin.

Jim turned to take their plates to the table when his vision exploded in a kaleidoscope of stars. The plates crashed to the floor as Jim fell to his knees clutching his throbbing head.

Blair started at the noise and ran into the kitchen to find Jim on his knees.

"Jim, what's the matter?"

"I...don't...know...pain," he cried out choking on his words.

Blair grabbed the phone and quickly dialed 911.

"Jim, just hold on, man. An ambulance is on the way," Blair spoke softly as he lowered Jim to the floor.

Blair jumped up to let the paramedics in.

"What's his name?" the paramedic asked authoritatively.

"Jim," Blair answered, his voice shaking.

"Jim, can you hear me? Has this happened before?"

"Too loud," Jim cried out. "Head hurts."

"Jim, is this the first time this has happened?"

"Yes," Blair stated emphatically, as his partner shook his head no.

"Twice... before," Jim rasped.

"No? Jim this happened before and you didn't tell me!" Blair accused through clenched teeth.

"Worry..." Jim cried out.

"Can y'all do this later?" the paramedic drawled as he and his partner placed Jim on a gurney and rushed him to the ambulance.

Jim sat up in the bed and groaned holding his head.

"Well, what do you expect, Jim. You're not Captain Indestructible. You were damn lucky. There was a subdural hematoma that was causing the headaches and dizzy spells. I should've seen the warning signals: increased aggression, moodiness, and headaches. I keep telling you not to turn down your pain dial. Pain's a warning signal, you know."

"I know, but there was no way I was going to back off this case!"

"Could've been you in the coffin for real, Jim. Don't ever pull that crap with me again. I'm your Guide. How am I supposed to help you if you keep things from me? You lied to me, Jim. How could you do that, man?" Blair accused turning away.

"Sorry, Chief," Jim apologized. "I didn't realize..." Jim's voice trailed off.

"Just don't do it again," Blair said with a heavy sigh.

"You got it, Chief," Jim lied still feeling a bit guilty. "When can I get outta here?"

"I told the doctors that you were hiding your condition from me, and they agreed to keep you an extra week," Blair managed with a straight face that abruptly crumbled when he saw the shock on Jim's face.

"That's not very damn funny, Chief!" Jim threatened with a smile.

"Get some sleep, Jim. I'll be right here," Blair reassured him as he settled into the chair for the night.

The End