Title: Grounded

Author: Twilight

Rated: PG

Feedback: Please at Dtwilight@hotmail.com

Summary: Hmm...missing scene from Breaking Ground, or maybe an AU...you decide.

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and I'm not making a dime!

Warning: Not really...A teeny bit of medical torture <eg> and Blair owies.

Notes: Special thanks to Lyn and Kim for betaing. Any errors are mine. A very special thanks to Peggy, whose wonderful story "Through the Door" on an X-File site inspired this story. I always thought that Blair should have been hurt more in this episode and Peggy's story gave me an idea of how I could torture our favorite anthropogist. Thanks Peggy, you are the greatest!

Grounded
by Twilight
*~*~*

The early morning air blew into the tiny room through the opened window. The cool breeze drifted over him, but did little to cool his overheated skin. Blair stirred, waking in a cold sweat, the sheets sticking to his back and legs, his hair matted to his damp neck and brow.

His lower back was on fire, pain radiating from his lower spine around to his navel. He lay very still, hoping the pain would pass. Minutes later he carefully rolled to his side, throwing the light sheet off his body. His head spun wildly, waves of light flickered in his eyes as he eased himself up, swinging his trembling legs over the edge of his bed.

A small moan passed through his dry lips, so he bit the bottom one, sucking it deep into his mouth. Wouldn't do to have Jim wake up and have to listen to him say, "Told you so."

Blair had insisted that he wasn't hurt when he fell through the dilapidated floor of the Archeology dig. Jim would be so pissed if he found out that Blair was less then truthful.

He had thought that he was okay – just a little stunned. Jim had been frantic when he came down that ladder. Demanding to know if Blair had lost consciousness. At the time, Blair had said no, but he thought that maybe he had, if only for a minute or two.

Sitting unsteadily on the edge of his futon, Blair remembered the feeling of falling, his stomach suddenly in his throat, the old and rotting wood clawing at his side, and a wayward chunk of support beam whacking him on the back. It had happened so fast, but the adrenaline had been pumping through his system and for a while, he hadn't felt much of anything.

It wasn't until later, during his trek through the hidden underground tunnels of the ruins, that he had realized he might have done more serious damage than a few bruises. Of course, running for his life while the ruins collapsed around him a few minutes later had started the adrenaline rush again, taking the aches and pains away.

Now he sat hunched over, his pounding head cupped in his hands. He needed to get up and get some Extra Strength Tylenol; he really needed to pee.

He pushed himself to the edge of the bed and slowly stood on shaking legs, grabbing blindly for the dresser for support.

"Damn." He yelped when his big toe collided with the leg of his dresser.

He listened for a second, breathing heavily. "Don't wake up, Jim."

It took forever to make it the ten steps to the bathroom, but finally he was standing in front of the toilet, bathroom door firmly closed and bright overhead lights drilling into his tired eyes.

It took a few minutes for the flow to start and it burned a little, but the pressure was lessening and he sighed in relief.

He carefully leaned forward, hand supporting his aching stomach, to flush the toilet, but stopped in mid motion – the bowl was filled with bright red blood.

*~*~*

Jim lay still listening to his Guide trying hard to be quiet, to not wake the Sentinel. He didn't understand why Blair insisted that he was fine, when clearly he was in pain.

He kept a discreet eye on Blair the day after his little trip. Jim could hardly believe his eyes when it happened – one second Blair was standing in front of him and the next he was gone, falling who knows how far into a huge hole that seemingly swallowed him.

Jim had yelled for him in a panic-pitched voice, but Blair had remained quiet. Jim had looked down, adjusting his eyes to find Blair's still form, forcing his hearing up a few notches to find the steady fast beat of his friend's heart.

He'd rushed to find something to use to get down in the hole with Blair. He was lucky a ladder had been left nearby and when he'd gotten to Blair, he 'd been awake, albeit a little dazed.

Now Jim was listening as his friend dragged himself out of his room. "Kitchen or bathroom, Chief?" A second later the bathroom door clicked. Jim listened for a second, and then turned his hearing down. "Don't need to listen to that, " he mused.

He closed his heavy eyes five minute later, still waiting for Blair to get safely back into his bed.

Minutes passed and Jim curled onto his side, drifting deeper into sleep, but his eyes flew open when he heard a subtle change in Blair's heartbeat. He was halfway down the steps when a thick metallic smell assaulted his nostrils. Taking the rest of the steps as fast as he could, he pulled up short of the closed bathroom door.

"Chief? What's wrong?"

*~*~*

"Oh god, was there blood in my urine yesterday?" Blair quickly closed the lid and sat on it, trying to calm his breathing and heartbeat. "Chill out, probably just bruised something."

He sat for a second more, drawing in a huge lungful of air. "Calm down before you wake up Jim."

"Chief, what's wrong?"

"Damn –too late."

*~*~*

"Come on, Blair. Open the door."

Jim waited patiently in the darkened hallway, listening as Blair mumbled to himself, shuffling his feet on the way to the door.

The door opened a crack, bright light spilling out making Jim adjust his vision. Squinting, he pushed the door open a little more.

"What's wrong? Did you cut yourself?"

"Huh? – No. Um – I'm fine, man. Sorry I woke you up."

Blair moved back when Jim pushed the door open the rest of the way. "I smell blood."

Jim walked all the way in, looking around the spotless bathroom. Was he imagining it?

Blair sank back boneless on to the toilet seat – Jim sat on the rim of the tub across from him.

"Jim – I."

With his eyes adjusted to the bright overhead lights, the Sentinel took in the haggard appearance of his Guide. Blair was pale, sweaty, his long curls sticking to his neck, a lone strand caught in his eyelash.

"Don't even say whatever is about to come out of your mouth; just tell me why I smell blood."

"I – I." Blair looked nervously around, as if he could find the answer painted on the shower curtain.

Jim looked around too, wondering why his nose was telling him there was something there that his eyes couldn't see. His gaze went back to Blair fidgeting on the toilet seat – the toilet. "Get up."

"Jim, I –"

Jim stood towering over Blair. "I said get up, Sandburg."

After a brief hesitation, Blair used the corner of the counter to pull himself up. Jim immediately opened the lid. "Blair?"

"It's nothing – I feel fine."

"Fine?" Jim's eyes traveled from Blair's sweaty face to his wobbly legs. "Define fine."

Blair looked away, swaying from dizziness. "Look, don't make a big deal. I'll go over to the campus clinic in the morning and –"

"No."

Blair looked at him surprised. "No?"

"Yeah, no. Get your shoes. We're going to the emergency room."

"Jim – "

The Sentinel put his hand up to stop the impending flow of words.

Defeated, Blair nodded; limping toward his room hunched over like a hundred year old man.

Ten minutes later, Jim was fully dressed, still waiting for Blair to emerge from his room. Blair was already dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. What could be taking so long? He waited a few more minutes and then headed to the French doors. "Blair?"

Jim could hear Blair breathing a little fast. He opened the door to find him sitting on his bed, one shoe on and the other sitting beside him.

"Do you need some help, Chief?"

Blair looked up startled, pain etched in the corners around his eyes. "I don't think – I can't."

Jim kneeled in front of him. "Don't worry about it."

Slipping Blair's other shoe on and tying the laces, he patted him on the knee. "Ready?"

*~*~*

Blair deteriorated quickly on the ride to the hospital. He was having a hard time pulling in enough air. Although Jim was breaking every driving law, he was using his enhanced eyesight to avoid as many potholes and bumps in the road as he could.

Blair was grateful, considering that his back burned and his stomach was flipping and rolling with each turn of the highway. It hurt to sit up straight, so he tried slouching. That was worse, so he leaned toward the door, resting his head against the cool glass.

The bright neon sign pointing the way to the hospital emergency room was a wonderful sight. As much as he hated hospitals, he was ready to be there, wanting nothing more than for someone to make the pain stop.

Jim gently guided him from the truck to a hard plastic chair in an overcrowded waiting room before leaving to find help.

Twenty agony filled minutes later, a pleasant looking woman with bright red rimmed glasses called his name.

Jim stood up to assist Blair when he had trouble getting up on his own and then walked with him, but when they got to the small cubicle, he retreated to the waiting room, patting Blair's shoulder before leaving.

"Mr. Sandburg, I need you to get up on the exam table. I'm Lyn by the way." She smiled at him, pushing the glasses up to rest on her head. She pulled out the footrest and helped him get up onto the table and then pulled the blood pressure cuff from its container hanging on the wall.

She pumped the bulb, released the pressure and listened. She glanced at him briefly and pumped the bulb again. Next she took his temperature, writing the results in a thick manila chart. "Your blood pressure is a little low and you temp is up a bit. How are you feeling?"

"I'm really tired." Blair's body continued to tremble and the fine hairs on his arm stood up, "and cold."

"Your partner told me you fell quite a distance. Did you hit your head?"

"Um – I think so – "

"Okay," she pulled a hospital gown from a small cabinet. "I need you to get completely undressed and put this on." After handing him the gown, she walked from the cubicle briefly and returned with a thin sheet. "You can get warm under this and I'll be back in a few minutes."

She pulled the curtain when she left, giving him some privacy. It took a few tries, but finally he was undressed, warm and under the cover.

A young woman in a crisp white lab coat pulled the curtain a moment later and stepped in. "Hello, Mr. Sandburg. I'm Dr. Peggy Johns." She sat at a small table at the side of the tiny room and pulled out a pen. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I, ah, I fell through a rotting floor. I thought I was okay, but my back started to hurt earlier and now my stomach is bothering me." Blair tracked her movement with his eyes. She was nodding her head, moving about the small room, pulling open drawers and cabinets, taking out items and laying them on the tray near his exam bed.

She was young, a little chubby with short-cropped red hair. When she turned back toward him, her brown eyes sparkled. "Your roommate --?"

"Jim." Blair supplied.

"Yes, Jim, told the triage nurse that you got up to use the bathroom and you had blood in your urine. Did you notice it yesterday?"

Was it there yesterday? "I don't think so." Blair winced, shifting a little when a cramp seized his gut, but the pain passed quickly.

"Okay. I just need to take a look at you and then Lyn will be back in to draw some blood. Then we'll see about giving you something to make you more comfortable so you can get some rest."

*~*~*

Jim glanced at the large clock mounted on the far wall of the waiting room for the tenth time in as many minutes. It had only been a little over an hour since Blair had been called, but Jim was already becoming impatient.

He should have made Blair go to the hospital after the fall. What was he thinking?

He'd let Cassie get too involved and she had pulled Blair right along with her. Instead of being home and safe, his Guide had been tramping around with that red-headed hot head. And then, when he'd gotten Blair's call and told Cassie to wait, he'd just known that she wouldn't.

It had been her idea for Blair to go along with her, but it was his fault, too. He should have known better than to believe Blair was fine when his own eyes had told him different.

A nurse emerged from the ER carrying a clipboard. "Mr. Ellison? I have some papers that need to be filled in."

Jim took them from her, watching her retreating back. How many times had he been here before? He knew all the information by heart.

*~*~*

The young doctor began by looking into his eyes and ears, feeling his head and neck for any signs of trauma. She listened to his chest intently for several minutes, asking him to take a few deep breaths before moving to listen to his back.

Then she asked him to lie back, helping him slowly recline on the table. She pulled his gown up, exposing his stomach and ran her hands up his sides, pressing firmly. Her hands traveled to the front, pressing into his tender stomach. At one point, he pushed her hand away.

"Sorry." she soothed. "Your belly feel tender?"

"Ye-yeah."

"How about here?" She moved her hands in small tight circles, pressing her fingers toward his belly button.

"Ohhhh," the sound escaped before he could stop it.

"Okay. I'm going to check your pelvis. Just relax." Her hands moved lower, disappearing under the covers. Blair closed his eyes, enduring the invasion to his most private parts until she was finished.

"Can you roll onto your side away from me?" she asked.

Blair shifted over, shivering as she pulled the thin covering away from his back.

He could feel her hands moving over his spine. "Hmm...that's some bruise you have back here."

He craned his neck, trying to see.

"It starts here," she pressed a finger lightly into his spine just under his shoulder blades. "And ends here," then she ran her fingers in a wide circle ending almost at his tailbone.

He felt her move away and then her hand was back, resting on his hip. "I need to make sure you don't have any damage to your lower tract. Try to relax." She worked quickly. "Did you have any problems moving your bowels?"

"I—I don't –" Blair stuttered, shivering at the cold sensation.

"Relax, breathe. I'm almost done."

He drew in a quick breath. "I haven't gone –"

"Okay." She finished and he could hear her pulling off the latex gloves. She covered him back up before moving to the sink. "I'm going to have Lyn put in a catheter. I need to measure your output and monitor the blood loss. I'm going to order a scan of your belly."

The water shut off and she walked back over to the bed. "We should know something in the next hour or so."

Blair carefully rolled back onto his back. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Well, I can't be sure until I see the test results, but you experienced a blunt trauma to you stomach and back. You may have damage to your liver or kidney. I'll know more when the results are back." She smiled at him, patting his knee. "Just try to get some rest."

Rest? Sure.

*~*~*

Jim had just finished with the paper work when the doctor he saw earlier came down the hall toward him. "Detective?"

Jim stood, dropping the clipboard to the chair. "How's Blair," He quickly scanned her nametag. "Dr. Johns?"

"I've just sent him to x-ray, but he seems comfortable. He's experienced a blunt trauma and is bleeding internally. I'm waiting for the results of his tests, but since he made it a whole day before it started to bother him, it's probably not too serious, perhaps a minor laceration of his kidney."

"When can I see him?" Jim asked, looking over her shoulder toward the emergency room.

She smiled warmly and bent to pick up the forgotten clipboard. "He should be done in about an hour or so and then I'm going to admit him for observation. He should be in a room within the next couple of hours, so you have time to get some breakfast if you want."

She held out her hand and Jim took it, surprised at the firm handshake. "Thank you, Doctor."

*~*~*

When Blair woke up, he was flat on his back in a narrow bed, the head raised a little. The steady beeping noise told him he was hooked up to a cardiac monitor and he looked down to see patches stuck to newly shaven skin on his hairy chest. Just great!

He remembered going to get a scan and then he was moved to a semi-private room. Luckily he didn't have a roommate. He fell asleep almost instantly; unable to keep his eyes open a second longer.

He raised his arm to rest across his forehead, pulling the IV in his hand. "Man, this sucks."

"Hey, Buddy. How're you feeling?" Jim was standing in the doorway, a slight smile on his face.

"Like shit. What happened?"

"Well, you're were a little dehydrated and the Doc wants to keep an eye on ya for a little while." Jim stepped to the foot of the bed, looking down at the plastic urine collection bag. There wasn't much fluid in it, but what was there was bright red. "And you still have blood in your urine."

"Oh." Blair shifted, wincing from a burning pain in his lower back.

"Lay still, Blair." Jim sat in the worn plastic chair by Blair's bed. "Are you still in pain?"

"My back hurts some – I feel shitty, basically. Tired and I've got a killer headache, man."

"Just hang in there. I saw the doctor on my way up. She'll be in with the test results soon."

They sat quietly for several minutes, neither one knowing what to say. Blair thought about saying he was sorry, but it sounded a bit lame. He should have listened to Jim from the beginning instead of letting other parts of him lead the way, following Cassie around like a puppy dog. What was with him?

Jim opened his mouth to say something when Dr. Johns walked in. "Got all the test results back," she smiled.

"And?" Blair was about to ask, but Jim beat him to it.

"And, you have a laceration to your right kidney," she smiled, looking at Blair, "but the good news is that it's a minor one."

Once again, Jim seemed to be reading his mind. "So no surgery?"

The doctor nodded, clearly amused. "As long as there are no unexpected complications – no surgery."

"So now what?" Blair asked, glancing at Jim. "When do I get out of here?"

"I'd say anywhere from three to five days. Maybe even a week," the doctor said, waiting for the inevitable response.

"What?" Blair sat up a little, immediately regretting it. Jim gently pushed him back against the bed. "But you just said I didn't need surgery."

"Even though the laceration will heal without surgery, you need lots of rest and IV antibiotics. You're still bleeding, so we want to monitor you for a while, plus you're still a little dehydrated. And lastly I want to keep track of your red blood cell levels, hemoglobin and hematocrit."

"My what?" Blair turned confused eyes to Jim.

"It means," Jim said, looking to the doctor for confirmation, "that you may need a blood transfusion."

Dr. Johns nodded, confirming Jim's explanation. "You're going to bleed for a little while longer, so we need to monitor those levels. If they drop too far, you may need a blood transfusion and fluids to correct any anemia or dehydration. Prolonged blood loss can affect the heart and respiration, that's why we have you on monitors.

"My heart?" Blair's eyes went wide and he drew in a quick breath.

"Is fine," The doctor reassured him. "You had an EKG while you were sleeping and it looked perfectly normal. It's just a precaution."

Blair let the breath out, sagged back against the bed, closing his eyes.

"You're going to be fine, Mr. Sandburg. Just try to get some rest and I'll be back to see you later on." The doctor patted his leg before leaving, but Blair didn't even open his eyes.

"I can't believe this –" Blair barely whispered, but Jim had no problem making it out.

"Just relax, Chief. It's going to be okay. I'm going to call Simon and let him know what's happening. I'll be back in a few. You going to be okay?" Jim stood, waiting for Blair to answer.

"Yeah, Jim. I'm fine. Just tired." Blair cracked opened his eyes a slit and smiled weakly, but it was enough for Jim, so he left in search of a pay phone.

*~*~*

Once Jim left, Blair rolled to his side, curling into a ball. It seemed to take the pressure off his back, so he tried to go back to sleep, shivering under the heavy blanket. It seemed like only minutes had passed when he was awakened from a light sleep by a lab tech.But the sun was shining brightly into his room, so it must have been well past noon. "What time is it?"

The tech looked at her watch, before reaching for his other arm, tapping the inside of his elbow, looking for a vein. "It's almost 2:30."

Jim stepped into the room, as the tech was finishing up. "Hey, Chief. How are ya doing?"

"Okay, I guess." He looked around bleary eyed, a strange taste in his mouth. "Can I have a drink?" he asked.

"Sure." Jim poured a small amount of water into a cup, bending the straw. "Just drink it slowly."

Blair nodded, sipping greedily. A second later, he sat up quickly, throwing the covers off of him, looking around frantically.

Jim must have read his expression, because he quickly produced a basin just as Blair started to vomit.

Jim listened to the retching sounds coming from his friend, turning his sense of smell as far down as he could.

Although Blair hadn't eaten since the day before, he still threw up quite a bit of fluid, the last of it crimson.

When Blair was finished, he sagged to the side, so Jim helped him lie back under the warm covers, pushing the call button by the bed before going to the bathroom with the basin and dampening a washcloth.

When he returned, Blair was laying back, eyes tightly closed, breathing heavily. Jim used the cold cloth to wipe Blair's face and then laid it across his forehead.

The nurse came briskly into the room and Jim told her about Blair throwing up blood. She went to the bathroom and then left, returning a few minutes later, telling Blair that the doctor was on the way.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?" Jim moved closer, listening to Blair's increased respirations.

"I'm gonna be –"

Jim rushed to the bathroom, but returned a little too late. Blair threw up over the side of the bed, gagging on the metallic taste, causing him to heave harder.

There wasn't too much Jim could do, except to help Blair hold his head, pulling his long, curly hair out of the way. The doctor came in just as Blair was laying back. Bright red droplets covered the floor and bed sheets. Jim's denim shirt was covered with flecks and Blair was nearly the same shade of white as the crisp sheets.

Dr. Johns talked quietly to the nurse before carefully approaching the bed. "I can see you don't feel so good, Mr. Sandburg."

Blair shook his head, running the cloth over his mouth. "Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Jenny will be back in a minute and we'll get you cleaned up. Do you feel like you're going to be sick again?" She talked to him as she checked his monitors.

"I still feel a little sick –"

"I'm going to give you something to take that feeling away and then I think we need to have a look at your throat. You just try to relax and I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

Blair nodded, closing his eyes. His head pounded steadily as his stomach did a slow roll. He took a few calming breaths, swallowing painfully. When he opened them again, Jim was looking down at him, concern etched into the light blue eyes.

Blair tried a small smile, but decided it was too much effort. Then he noticed the tiny red spots on Jim's blue shirt.

"Oh, man. I'm sorry." His voice was strained, he swallowed painfully.

"Don't worry about it. You feeling better now?"

Blair let his eyelids sag. "Um – as long as I lay really still."

"Close your eyes then, Chief. Get some rest." Jim barely finished his sentence when Blair's breath evened out; he was already asleep.

*~*~*

Jim stepped out into the hall once Blair was sleeping. The doctor was talking to someone on the phone at the nurses' desk. She nodded once then hung up, moving around the alcove to talk to Jim. "I'm going to have a nurse give Mr. Sandburg some Compazine for his vomiting. It looks like he may have ruptured some blood vessels in his esophagus, but I'm going to get a better look once his stomach settles."

"How did he manage to do that?" Jim felt a little relieved. "There wasn't much there to throw up."

"Probably because there wasn't much there...it just happens like that sometimes...scary for the patient, but not serious. He'll probably have a sore throat for awhile." Dr. Johns scribbled a few notes in Blair's chart before handing it to the nurse.

Jim watched as the younger women read the orders and then disappeared into Blair's room.

"Once that's done we should have his last blood test results back. I'll wait to see the results, but I think we're going to have to go ahead with the transfusion." Dr. John's pocketed her pen, smiling up at the taller man. "You might want to take a break, maybe go home for awhile."

"Okay, I'll go pick him up some things from home." Jim was grateful for something productive to do. He had a few phone calls to make and then he was going to pack some of Blair's things.

*~*~*

Blair felt confused, lightheaded when he woke. Looking around the darkened room he spotted Jim sleeping in the tiny chair. His arms were folded across his chest, head tilted back, snoring.

Blair softly called the Sentinel's name and Jim woke up with a start. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just wondering what time it is?" Blair's voice was tiny and he was freezing, he shifted, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

Jim stood and rooted through the closet for another blanket. He smoothed it out over his friend and then looked at his watch. "It's 1:00."

"In the morning?" Blair's eyes were wide with surprise. He must have slept the whole day away. The last thing he remembered after the throat exam was Dr. Johns telling him he needed a transfusion and then Jim told him that everyone from Major Crimes was coming down to donate.

"Yes." Jim paced the small room, swinging his arms back and forth, trying to wake up. "So how're you doing, Chief?"

"Better, I think" Blair yawned loudly. "Still tired, but my back doesn't hurt as much."

"You look better. You're not as pale. The doc said you would feel a lot better after the transfusion. When she came in around 11:00 she said your blood pressure was improving."

"Good. Then go home, Jim."

Jim shook his head. "I'm fine here."

"Come on, man. Why hang around here watching me sleep. Go get some rest." Blair carefully shifted to his side, looking up at the almost empty bag hanging from the IV pole. He followed the line carrying the red fluid down to his hand, feeling a little nauseous at the thought of needing someone else's blood.

"Okay, but I'll be back early tomorrow. I'll stop by and get you breakfast." Jim patted his shoulder before leaving. Blair closed his eyes and snuggled back under the covers.

"Blair?" Blair opened his eyes, seeing Jim in the doorway.

"Is it morning already?" Blair asked, a little confused.

"No, Darwin. It's ten seconds since I left. I wanted to tell you that they'll be coming soon to draw more blood to check your levels. If it's still low you'll have to have another bag of blood."

"Oh – 'kay."

"Maybe I should stay until …"

"Go home, Jim."

"But I …"

"Go home."

"Okay, see you in a few." Jim whispered, but Blair was out.

*~*~*

The lab tech came and drew more blood, but Blair hardly roused from his sleep. A little later someone was patting him on the leg.

"Hmm. –"

"Sorry to keep disturbing you, Mr. Sandburg." The older women moved quietly around his bed. "But I need to hook up another transfusion bag."

She worked quickly, changing his catheter bag also, writing something in his chart before tucking the pen behind her ear. "Try to get some rest."

"Um 'kay."

He drifted back to sleep, but sometime later woke up shivering; his body shook slightly and he had an incredible urge to scratch. His whole body seemed to itch -- he was hot and sticky and the pain in his back was back with a vengeance and had brought a hammering headache with it. Searching blindly for the call button, he pressed it with a shaking hand.

The same nurse from earlier came in. "You okay, Mr. Sandburg?" "I – I do-n't --" His teeth were chattering and it was hard to talk. His hand brushed across his itchy chest, his fingers scratching in circles.

Another nurse hurried to his side, turning on the light. She took one look at him a rushed back out the door.

A flurry of activity followed and soon the small room was full of people, all touching him, pulling away blankets and sheets, checking vitals and leads and catheters.

"What's the matter?" Blair asked, nervously. He was nearly naked.

"We're not exactly sure," the young man in a lab coat spoke up. He was disconnecting the IV line, stopping the transfusion. "It looks like you're having a transfusion reaction."

The man rambled off a list of orders, but Blair had a hard time understanding his words. They seemed to fad in and out. All he wanted to do was to stop the maddening itch, but someone held his hands above his head.

The nurses continued to work around him, taking his temperature, drawing blood, injecting something into his other IV. His stomach decided to join in on all the fun. "I don't feel so good."

"Just hang in there, okay?" Blair looked to his side to see Lyn, the nurse who was in the ER when he was admitted. She was holding his hands, smiling brightly.

"I'm trying," Blair said, tying to lie still. "It itches."

"I know. You're covered with hives."

Blair nodded, taking a deep breath. He was having a hard time taking in air. Lyn moved away briefly, returning and attaching a small clip to the end of his index finger while the other women continued their work, one pulling an oxygen mask over his face.

The guy in the lab coat came back to check on him and someone finally covered him back up.

Time passed in slow motion, people came and went, all talking at the same time. Lyn stayed by his head, talking quietly to him, drawing his attention away from the flurry of activity that was going on around him.

*~*~*

"Mr. Sandburg?" Most of the activity had died down, only a few people remained; the older nurse who had been with him all night leaned over the bed. "Feeling any better, yet?"

"No -- cold. And I still itch." His voice was muffled by the mask.

"I know. You'll start to feel better soon. I'm going to see if I can get you something for the itching – try not to scratch."

A familiar voice caught his attention and he turned slightly to see Jim talking to a man in the hallway. The conversation ended and Jim walked into the room.

"I'm sorry," Blair whispered miserably. "I didn't know they were going to call you."

"Nothing to be sorry for. I told them to call if there was a problem." Jim lowered the bed rail and sat close to Blair, lending him a little body heat. His partner was covered only with a thin sheet and huge red welts covered his face and arms. "There would have been hell to pay if they hadn't called me."

Blair nodded, turning to get closer to Jim's warmth. Jim pulled the sheet closer around Blair's shoulder, monitoring his vitals and checking for a fever. Blair was hot, but not too hot.

"What happened?" Blair asked a few minutes later, once the itching welts had became a little more tolerable.

"Some sort of reaction to the blood transfusion."

"Figures...I bet it was Simon's." Blair let out a tiny laugh. The man who had been there earlier came in. "Still feeling lousy?" the resident asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, we know that it's just an allergic reaction to the donor blood. Your doctor will check on you again in the morning." Blair tossed and turned most of the night, unable to resist the urge to scratch. Jim had caught him a few times, smacking his hands like he was three again. It was maddening, if he could, he would find a safe place and scratch his skin raw.

Finally around breakfast, the welts went down and Blair finally fell asleep. Dr. Johns appeared bright and early. Jim was awake and waiting, but Blair hadn't stirred since he had fallen asleep a few hours before.

"How's he feeling?" She asked, looking over his vitals.

"I thought I was going to have to put him into restraints to stop him from scratching. He feel asleep after they started to go away." Jim looked over Blair's face and arms, tiny bumps remained, but most of the hives were gone.

"Well, despite his reaction, his levels are right on track." Jim stood back as she looked over her patient. "He should be able to get out of here in a day or two."

"I'm sure he will be happy about that."

*~*~*

Two days later Blair was dressed and more then ready to go home. Jim was waiting in the hall as Dr. Johns gave him one more look. Her tiny wire rimmed glasses reflected the bright overhead light.

"I want you to go home and take it easy," she told him. "Lots of rest for the next two weeks. Then we'll do another CT scan and if that looks good, I'll release you to go back to work."

It took awhile for Blair to make it from the elevator to the loft. It felt so good to be home. Jim walked patiently along side of him, helping him to the couch and bringing him a cup of his favorite tea.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem, buddy." Jim sat on the coffee table across from Blair. "Do you need anything? I can set up the table for you, since you're going to be grounded for awhile."

Blair was about to answer when the phone rang. "Hold that thought."

Jim jumped up and answered the phone on the kitchen jack. "Oh, hi Cassie."

He turned to look at Blair, who was shaking his head frantically.

"Blair?" Jim talked into the receiver. "He's doing okay...well, he's sleeping."

Blair was whispering his thanks as Jim laughed. "Sure, I'll tell him. Yeah, it's great that you two have the same blood type. I'm sure he appreciates...ah...your gift." Jim turned away, his shoulder shaking. "Okay, I'll do that. Bye."

"That is so not funny, man. Like I actually got Cassie's blood."

"Well, Blair – remember I told you everyone came down to donate." Jim stood behind the counter with a huge grin on his face.

"It's not possible. I know that they have to check donor blood." Blair shifted to get a better view of his friend. "It's not possible, right, Jim?"

"If you say so, Junior." Jim started toward the bathroom.

"Jim? It's not possible – what are you laughing at? Jim? JIM?"

*~*~*
END