His head ached. Or was it throbbed? Something like that. Hell, his whole body was one huge ache. Jim loosened one hand from around Blair's waist long enough to rub the back of his neck, then snaked it back again. He needed this anchor; needed to hang on to Blair's strength.

They weren't going to make it to Steamboat Springs. Not at the rate the snow was falling now. With a quiet groan he shifted, forcing his eyes, blurry as they were, to scan the countryside around them. They needed a place to hole up for the night.

His head throbbed again, and Ellison reached back to rub his neck once more, trying to relieve a little of the pressure there. A hitch in the gentle rise-and-fall of the chest beneath his splayed hand grabbed his attention away from his aches, and he leaned forward slowly, resting his chin on Blair's shoulder, speaking right into his ear.

"Chief?"

Sandburg shook his head sharply, his voice tight when he replied. "Not now. Can't...right now."

Jim squeezed briefly, reassuringly. "Whenever you're ready, Blair." //He has to be hurting...how often has he held a gun, much less shot the damn thing? Damn, he was something, though.// A surge of warmth...pride?...moved through him, followed by a stronger surge of love; the most intense surge of that emotion he'd felt in a long time--if ever. His entire body felt electrified, somehow. Almost recharged. He breathed a quick sigh of relief and relaxed fractionally, then regretted it instantly when a bump sent him scrambling to hold his head again, certain it was about to come off his shoulders. "Pull over," he managed, his stomach churning. "Sick..."

The bike squealed to a halt just in time for Jim to hit the side of the road with his knees, body shaking as he retched. He slumped forward, hands balled loosely on his thighs, trembling as he panted through another wave of nausea. Behind him were the quiet crunches of Blair's footsteps where the younger man dismounted, then joined him. His skin burned when his partner's hand touched on his shoulder.

"Jim--? Man, we need to get you to a doctor...emergency room...something."

//Wonder if I look as bad as I feel? If that's the case, I'm probably scaring him to death.// He shook his head impatiently. "Can't," he began, drawing his breath in sharply when his stomach protested the movement of his head. "Too risky. I'm...fine."

"Like hell." Blair's fingers were cold against his fevered skin when the younger man reached down and tipped his head back a fraction. For an instant Jim wondered what the contrast would be like: icy hot/cold skin covering his own; the resultant sizzle probably would be audible for miles. He drew back to the present with a hiss when Blair's fingers contacted a tender bump on his jaw. "You're one huge mass of bruises, Jim. At the very least," the younger man concluded tersely, his eyes dark blue with concern.

"Save it, Sandburg," he began, climbing wearily to his feet. Blair reached down and braced him for the last bit, only a quiet "chuff" when Jim leaned his full weight for a moment.

"I can't, man," the younger man said quietly, with a trace of stubbornness. "You could be hurt bad inside. Bleeding, or something."

"I don't think so." Jim clutched at Blair's shoulder for a moment when the world swam drunkenly around him before righting itself. "Nothing feels--odd. Just achy."

"You're throwing up."

"You would be too, if you'd been bashed in the head and stomach a few dozen times." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jim wished them back. Blair's color washed out by a few more shades, leaving only his eyes for color--two hard, glittering stones of dark, fathomless blue.

"You're a dick, you know that?" The words were quiet, almost matter-of-fact, and Jim felt a tiny smile crease his face.

"I know," he offered in the same quiet tone, nodding very carefully. He leaned forward, gathering Blair against him, ignoring the other man's sudden stiffness and his own nearly unbearable aching. "I'm sorry, Chief. I'm not hurt; not seriously. I just need somewhere to rest for a while. Get out of wind and cold...hold on to you," he added in a soft, dark whisper.

"I'm sorry, too." The words were carried to him, borne on the back of the wind. Blair relaxed into his embrace, then returned it, holding Jim loosely, but solidly within strong arms. "I just--nothing can happen to you, y'know? It's just us now, Jim. And you...you're...." Blair trailed off, shaking his head.

That rich voice, full of promises in spite of uncertainty, warmed him like nothing else ever had or could. For a long moment even the biting wind ceased to register as the warmth thrummed through him.

"I know," he answered hoarsely, after a few moments. "Nothing can happen to either of us, because we'd be--alone." Just saying the word, after the pain and isolation of watching himself fragment, made him cringe inside. He resolutely pushed the fear and agony from that down, drawing on the strength that being with Blair gave him. "C'mon; let's find a place out of the wind."

A small smile answered him, and it was all he could do to keep from raising his fingers to trace the full lips. "That's supposed to be my line."

"Then say it and let's do it." Things were starting to look even blurrier than a moment before. Jim blinked his eyes, trying to clear his vision.

"Have you noticed anything--?"

Jim shook his head, carefully this time, and leaned back from the closeness of Blair's embrace. "There's a building that way," he pointed where the road forked, just ahead of them. "I can smell woodsmoke, but I'm not sure its coming from there. Or what we'll find there, if we go that way."

"Can't be any worse than where we came from." Blair pulled away and looked him in the eyes, maintaining a steady gaze. "We *have* to get you out of the weather. If you won't let me take you to a doctor, then you have to let me at least get you inside and warm. The last thing we need is to have you going into shock, or something."

"Mmmm." Jim shivered when the wind kicked up for a moment, then forced his dilating eyes to focus on his partner. "Already going there."

"Fuck." It was quiet, but heartfelt, and Jim felt a grin pull across his face. It was totally inappropriate, but he couldn't have stopped it if his life depended on it. He shifted when the world tilted alarmingly, and staggered into Blair, who staggered under his weight. "Jim!"

"Dancin'...." His voice felt thick trying to leave his throat, and his throat felt tight, trying to stop it. "World's dancin', Chief."

It spun wildly around him then when Blair shifted and maneuvered him onto the bike. He tilted to one side, swaying slightly as Blair climbed on himself. His arms slid around his friend; at least, that was what he tried to do. With a distanced sense of shock Jim realized he was rapidly losing control over his movements.

"Can't...hold on..."

"I know, Jim. I know." There was a strange fumbling at his wrists, and another one of those rather odd sensory shocks when his befuddled brain recognized the soft chafing of cloth as Blair tied the bandana he'd been covering his head with around Jim's wrists. "This'll help you."

"No--dangerous." He knew it was; in the back of his mind he could almost form the words. It had been too long of a day though; too much had happened to make him capable of putting the thoughts together to make those words. "If--if I fall--"

"If you fall off, my life isn't worth much without you anyway, so don't worry about it." The tone was curt, but the words were soft, full of love--full of imagined pain at the possibility. Jim decided he couldn't argue with it; hell, he could hardly form thoughts right now. He snapped his mouth closed with a click and clenched his fists into the soft material of the flannel shirt Blair was wearing. He wouldn't want to live long if anything happened to Blair; how could he fault the other man's reasoning?

****

He knew it was a barn even before they'd totally cleared the hill leading to it: the smell of horses was too strong for it to be anything else.

Blair wisely cut the engine as they emerged from the thicket of trees that was nearly blocking the small dirt road they'd come in on. It was used fairly frequently; deep grooves were cut into the mud that made up the flat surface. They coasted nearly to the barn door, and Jim was grateful to feel the bike come to a slow, smooth stop. The world had been spinning dizzily for the last ten minutes; Blair had to stop once more to let him lean over and throw up. His wrists were still bound around the younger man, making it difficult for him to maneuver much, but it had been a good thing too, since he'd listed drunkenly several times.

"We have to get you warm, Jim." The curtness was back in Blair's voice. Jim nodded; it seemed expected of him, though he didn't honestly understand what Blair was talking about. He felt warm enough. He tried to hold on to Blair's shirt, but his fingers felt weak, thick. The bandana was untied and unwrapped from his wrists, and Blair moved away from him, sliding off the seat of the bike to stand before him. "Can you stand up? Upstairs would be best." His partner made a gesture to the ladder at the far end of the building.

"Sure...can do that." At least, he thought he could. It turned out to be harder than he remembered to make his legs work; to make them obey his command. Blair grunted softly in his ear when he shouldered up under Jim.

"Need you...to take as much weight...as you can. Jim!" The quiet voice rose in pitch and volume as he lurched forward, trying for the ladder. It seemed so close; then it moved and was far away. Back and forth, teasing him unbearably. He could hear Blair's breathing, loud and heavy in his ear, then the pounding of what sounded like a freight train, replaced suddenly by near-silence.

"Blair! Shit!" The world lurched again and he shuddered as his vision and hearing both surged then disappeared, then surged again.

"Jim? Talk to me, man--what's going on?" Blair's eyes reflected his own feelings of helplessness back at him.

"In...and out...hearing...vision...help me!" They surged again, and he watched Blair's face swim into startling clarity, almost too close, then retreat to blurred, near non-existence.

"You got knocked in the head a bunch of times," the younger man said breathlessly, alternately pushing and pulling Jim to the first rung of the ladder. "That's bound to have an effect on sentinel senses. And you're probably in shock right now, and you're cold... Jim! C'mon--oof!" He grunted when Jim stumbled backward, nearly falling off the ladder. The older man felt pressure behind him as Blair leaned up close behind him, using his body to hold Jim's against the ladder.

"Sorry--" He fumbled with the next rung and heaved himself upward, leaning inward, immensely glad that Blair's shoulder was giving him a shove up at the same time.

"Don't...talk...just--climb." His friend sounded breathless, frightened. He reached again and missed on the first try; a low groan rose up from below him when his weight fell on the man below him. "Ah! Jim--climb..."

It seemed to take forever to go the dozen or so feet up to the loft of the barn. When he finally crawled over the edge and onto the hard surface of the loft flooring, Jim simply stayed there in place for a long moment, willing the world to stop spinning and shifting around him, and struggling to calm his wild breathing down. Blair nudged him none-too-gently from behind and he rolled away from the edge, giving his partner room to come up as well. He lay there, staring up at the younger man, the edges of his vision seeming a little darker.

"You look like shit, man." The words were at odds with the almost tender tone coming from his partner, and Jim closed his eyes to better feel the warmth that spread through him from it.

//Thanks, Chief. Love you too.// He opened his eyes to regard the younger man, feeling his face gather into a frown at the dark expression on Blair's face. "Wha--?"

"You've got a bruise the size of Africa spreading across your jaw. Jesus." Blair leaned closer, 'til Jim could feel the moist warmth of his breath touching him. He closed his eyes, enjoying it momentarily, then started in surprise when Blair's lips touched his jaw very softly. It was the barest hint of a kiss; not even that, really. A brush of lips to soothe the hurt. Jim smiled.

"Gonna kiss it better?" His voice was husky, pitched a little lower than before.

"Y'never know what a kiss might cure." Blair's tone was light, but when Jim slanted his gaze upward, he could see the concern darkening his partner's eyes. "In this case," Blair continued, moving back and helping Jim to shift upward, "I don't think its gonna do much for bruises. Or muscle aches. Now the house down there," his eyes narrowed in speculation, and Jim felt a shiver fizz through him, "they might have some...stuff...I can borrow. Tylenol, tea, that sort of thing."

"You're not thinking...." Jim couldn't even finish the sentence. His brain was still wrapped around the idea of Blair kissing him. He forced his foggy mind back to the issues at hand, and shook his head fiercely, groaning when it throbbed and pinpoints of light danced through his vision. "No B and E's, Blair. We can't risk it--"

"We can't *not* take care of you, man. C'mon, you're the one with medic experience. Tell me you're not in shock. Tell me, and make me believe it."

While he was talking, Blair deftly guided Jim to a back corner of the stable loft. Now he helped him ease down into a sitting position, then flat onto his back. Jim blinked a few times, trying to clear some of the haze from his eyes. It retreated, as his sight blurred out totally.

"Can't," he groaned quietly in defeat. "Sonofabitch..." It was an odd panic he felt, both gripping, and relaxing, all at the same time. He couldn't do anything about it--nothing. The world was totally out of his control right now. He groaned again when his eyesight surged back, white lights shifting behind it. "Blair...be c--careful..."

"Shh, Jim. S'okay, man. I'm not gonna take anything they'll notice--maybe a blanket, and we'll leave that here, in the barn. You lay here and rest, and I'll be back before you miss me, okay?"

Jim heard hesitation and concern warring with the 'gotta-keep-up-a-brave-front-for-Jim' voice his partner was using, and he closed his eyes and nodded once, very carefully. Someone with a jackhammer had taken up residence inside his skull and any movement kicked the guy back into action. "I'll rest...but I'll...always miss...you." Blair's fingertips had been gently stroking over his forehead, and Jim was surprised, but pleased, to feel a slight increase in the heat from them.

"Sleep, man. I'll be back in a jiffy." Warm lips ghosted over his forehead, then across his lips, leaving a warm, pleasant tingling behind. One more gentle press to each eye had Jim's lids sliding closed, that small touch going a long way to distract him from the aches within. He couldn't find the strength to open them again; wasn't sure he wanted to. It felt good, actually, to stay in this cocoon of warmth and darkness. "That's it...you rest..."

The quiet voice washed over him, urging him deeper into that peaceful, dark place where there was no pain, no fear, no running scared. He heard the low moan that released some of the pressure, and let himself go to drop completely into it.

*****

The near-complete stillness woke him. Not total, since pressed against his back, and humming through him, was the steady ka-thump of Blair's heart beating reassuringly. He shifted a little, aware of each individual part of his body as the aches rolled through him and checked in. God, it was like every year the after-affects of a fight got harder to deal with. He could still ride it out--but it took more out of him each time.

//And this time was like the mother of all.// Jim snorted quietly. Bikers. Jesus, he must be fucking insane Or stupid. Or both. And inside all of those thoughts was the still-overwhelming urge to protect Blair at any cost. Never mind that his partner ended up being the one doing the protecting. //And at what cost to himself? Even if the wound wasn't fatal--which I doubt--Blair's not used to shooting, much less a person. He's only done it a few times, the last time was weeks ago, at the firing range.// Something about that thought set off alarms in his brain, but the reason kept floating out of reach. He sighed and shifted again, a slow smile curving across his mouth when Blair shifted with him, mumbling in his sleep and pulling him closer.

"Love you, Chief." He kept his voice low, just savoring the words rolling over his tongue the way he was savoring the warmth of the body pressed against him.

"Mmmm. Mmhmm." The hands clasped around him tightened briefly, then stroked slowly up his belly and chest, each touch slow, gentle, easing the small knots in muscles that appeared here and there, as if by random chance. "Love you, too."

"Been awake long?" Jim shifted again, turning his body to face Blair. He raised one hand to smooth fingers over the crease in Blair's forehead. "I'm okay...just sore."

A tiny smile crossed Blair's face; there and gone so quick Ellison wondered if he'd imagined it. "You *so* don't look 'okay'... But I guess I have to take your word for it, don't I?" The frown was back, and Jim winced when Blair touched a very tender spot a little too hard.

"Don't know who else could tell you." With a little start he realized he was warm. Far warmer than he should have been, given that they were camping out in a barn, in the midst of a winter storm in the Colorado mountains. He looked around, trying to see without raising himself up. Blair gently curled his hand around Jim's chin, urging him to turn back.

"How're your senses doing? How do you feel, really?"

"I'm sore, Chief, but I'm fine." Well, as fine as he was likely going to be, less than twenty-four hours after getting the shit beat out of him. He sighed. "Senses...are okay, I guess. Nothing out of the ordinary. My vision is still a little blurry--but I have the headache from hell, too. That's probably at least part of that."

Blair nodded, then rolled over and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "We have some tea left, and some aspirins. No," he held a hand up when Jim opened his mouth. "I didn't take anything I didn't feel we absolutely needed, and only a little bit of that. C'mon--let's get you vertical--"

Jim braced against stretching and pulling on his sore body, and let Blair ease him upright. His head swam for a moment, vision going dark around the edges, with pinpoints of light dotting everything. "Damn--for just a night's sleep--" He stopped at the incredulous look Blair shot him. "What?"

"Jim...man, you slept almost around the clock. You've been out for...shit. About twenty-two hours."

"No way, Sandburg." A whole day--gone? Not possible. Or was it? Vague images flashed through his brain; images he'd chalked up to weird, disjointed dreams.

"All day." Blair nodded again. "I got you upright a few times to drink some tea, take some aspirins, and take a leak...but that was about it. You were too gone to consider eating, so I sugared the tea heavily, and figured you could eat when you woke up."

"Man." Jim's stomach rumbled then, making him aware that it had been a *long* time since he'd eaten last. They never did get to eat the sandwiches he'd bought them at the quick-mart yesterday. He looked up at Blair. "Do we have anything to eat?"

"Yeah. Hang on a sec." Sandburg turned away from him and drew a thermos out. When the top was popped off, the aromatic scent of tea rose around them.

The hand that extended a mug of lukewarm tea and some pain pills was trembling. Jim set the tea down and transferred the pills to the other hand, then grasped it gently, seeing clearly for the first time how drawn Blair's face was, and the circles under his eyes. "Sit down."

"I'm fine, man. Leggo." Blair withdrew his hand from Jim's.

"Like hell you're fine." The growl came from somewhere deep in his chest; the same place that felt he had to protect Blair at any cost. "Sit down."

He could feel, as well as hear, the exasperated sigh. "Look, man. You're the one who got the crap kicked out of him. Not me. I'm a little tired, is all, but I'm--fine." His voice cracked on the last word, and Jim watched Blair clamp his teeth down on his lower lip.

"All right," he said at last, staring until Blair looked away first.

(That would be all for now, and mostly likely always.)