TITLE: RIDE THE WIND

AUTHOR: PEJA

FANDOM: SENTINEL/BURNING ZONE

RATING: R, for talk of suicide

PAIRING: None...yet, well, maybe in time...but..

EMAIL: daltonavon@yahoo.com

FEEDBACK: YOU WANT MORE, YOU GOTTA FEED THE NEED

ARCHIVE: WWOMB, others ask first.

AUTHOR'S WEBSITE: http://internetdump.com/users/daltonavon/PEJA.html

SUMMARY: AU {what else}Blair is not a well man.

WARNINGS: I have not decided where this will go. Will not promise a happy ending. When you ride the wind, life happens.....

RIDE THE WIND

Alone.

For most of his life he had felt alone, but now, standing over his flighty mother's solitary grave he knew what true, grab-you-by-the-heart-and-squeeze loneliness really was.

"Sleep, sweet lady," he murmured, shivering in the hot afternoon sun. "I'll see you soon."

A whimsical breeze caressed his cheek, ruffling his hair away from features that had gone more and more hollow over the past few weeks. His almost translucent skin was pulled tight over the bones now.

He entered the second stage, the chills, this morning.

Blair Sandburg, rider of the wind, touched the sun-warmed stone. "I have to go away now, mom. It's not safe here." He laid a small bundle of wild flowers on the headstone, then pressed a brief kiss on the pebbled top. "Watch over me, mom. I'm just a bit scared."

The effort to stand erect again sent him into a coughing fit. By the time he managed to get past the coughing and got his ragged breathing somewhat under control, spatters of blood decorated the once pristine stone.

He dipped a fingertip in one red drop, knowing he didn't have the strength to clean it. He'd be damn lucky if he made it to the place he'd chosen to rest. The place he could leave life behind without infecting anyone else

"Soon, mom."

Moving stiffly, he climbed on the waiting Harley, shielded his sensitive eyes with dark glasses and threw himself into the wind

"Over here. I know I heard a crash," Jim Ellison said, crashing through the underbrush.

"Yeah right," his companion grumbled. "Come on, Cassian. We deserve a weekend off, Cassian. What else you gonna do if you don't come with me, Cassian?"

"Look, there. Over there." Jim sprinted through the tangled greenery, jumping the more troublesome bits in his single-minded determination to reach the fallen biker.

Cassian got there seconds later, popping open his med bag with the ease of a man who knew what he was doing.

"He's alive, Daniel." Jim said, his hands moving swiftly, checking life signs through the soft black leather jacket. "A good sized bump on the head," Jim said, straightening the rider's twisted body. "Laceration on his right forearm. Doesn't look like the limbs were broken, though."

Cassian shot him a quick glance. "How do you do that, Jim?"

Jim ignored the question, running his hands over the injured man's chest and arms. "My god, he's burning up. Cass, if he's not topping 104 I'll foot the bill for this little campout.

Cassian's brows shot up at that. Jim was not well known for throwing his money around. "That certain, are you? Then we better find some way of bringing that fever down."

Jim tilted his head. "There's a lake over that ridge."

"How in the hell do you do that?"

"Can we move him?"

"Do we have a choice. We can't let the fever go any higher. Let's just hope he doesn't have any internal injuries."

"He doesn't."

Jim gathered the shivering man in his arms and scrambled away toward a lake Cassian would have sworn he hadn't known about before.

Cassian tilted his head, watching Jim disappear over the ridge. "How the hell does he do that?"

Wading waist deep into the placid lake, Jim hissed. "Damn, that's cold." He shifted his limp burden tighter against his chest. The man's face was hidden beneath its curtain of windblown chestnut waves. "If you can hear me, I'm sorry about this. It's for your own good, believe me."

Bracing himself with a deep breath, Jim knelt in the frigid water. He swayed slightly as the water lapped around him before finding his balance, then began to scoop the water up, sluicing it over the fevered man''s head.

A hoarse scream broke over his soft crooning and the biker came violently alive in his arms, bucking, struggling to escape the water that weighed him down.

"Easy, little buddy," Jim murmured, holding the squirming bundle tight against his chest. "I've got you." He eased the man down onto his knees, brushing the tangled hair away from the biker's hollowed face and found himself momentarily captured by fever bright eyes. "You've got a fever," he managed finally. "We're trying to bring it down."

A soul deep shudder rippled through the man and he dropped his head against Jim's chest. "I've killed you, man," whispered up to sentinel ears. "Didn't want...take anyone else out."

"Hush, daredevil," Jim began sluicing the now tolerable water over the biker's face and neck again, pressing his lips against a too warm forehead. "Your fever's down a bit already. We'll get you through this."

A bitter laugh set of a coughing jag and Jim held the man while he worked his way through it. "Sorry, man." Fingers butterflied against Jim's shirt. "Ruined you tee. Money in the pack. Take it when I'm....."

"Hush now. You're gonna need you're strength to get better. We'll talk later. Just lean back and let me get your fever down. That's it. Close your eyes and rest."

As he worked to bring down the fever, Jim never noticed the blood spattered front of his shirt.

The stranger thrashed, beating at the blankets that Jim had tucked in around him. Sweat poured from his skin, dampening the heaavy material through.

He'd been mumbling in his sleep all day and into the wee hours of the night until Jim thought he would scream from listening to the man's repeated reliving of someone called Naomi's illness and death.

"Third stage," the young man said. "High fever....got that, mom. And the shakes. So hot...So cold...It hurts, mom. You never said how much it....hurts."

He went silent for a moment, kicking at the restraining weight of the blanket. Jim relentlessly placed the covering back.

"Mom.....The blood.... I left my blood on your headstone. Got to clean it up...so tired...burning out...."

Jim shifted, replacing the fever heated cloth on the biker's head with a new, cool one. As he settled back where he'd been, a tin cup was thrust before his eyes. The steam carried the much needed scent of caffeine.

He snatched he cup away, glancing gratefully up at his companion. "Thanks." Jim shrugged, "What do I know from sick? He's mumbling.... feverish...shivering....coughing blood....Don't suppose any of them are signs of recovery."

Cassian frowned. "We have to get him to a hospital, Jim."

"Sure. Strap him to my back and I'll just walk him out of here." Jim grumbled. "Dammit, Cass, we left the car twenty miles back through unbroken trail."

"How about riding him out on his bike?"

Jim shook his head. "It's not going anywhere. He ran it dry."

"So what's a man as sick as he obviously is doing riding away from civilization and treatment?"

"Give me a minute to focus and I'll take a walk through his head," Jim said.

"You are a sarcastic bastard, Ellison."

Jim snorted a laugh. "Yeah I am, aren't I?" He sipped at the bitter brew, watching the unconscious man's chest struggle to rise. "How long before he dies, do you think?"

Cassian shrugged. "If it happens, soon. I don't think he can take much more degeneration into this."

"He's been talking about stages...Of this damn disease. He knew he was sick. Knew he was dying when he came here. Keeps taking about minimum exposure. Do no harm sort of thing." Jim met Cassian's troubled gaze. "Cass, this is contagious. And we've been exposed."

"Yes, well, I hadn't wanted to mention that, but...." his voice trailed off.

"So we have to get ourselves back to civilization before it's to late for us, too?"

Cassian's dark gaze drifted to the cause of their problems. "Yes."

The biker's breathing rattled in his chest. Cassian moved quickly, scooping the young man up. "Get something under him, Jim. Elevating his head will make breathing easier."

Jim ripped off his jacket and bundled it up. Cassian eased the biker back down, listening as the man's breathing lost some of it's cracking rasp. "You''re going to be all right." Jim said, taking the too warm hand.

The younger man grimaced, trying to pull his hand away. "Do...Don't...touch....spreads through.... contact... Mom says...."

"Too late to worry about that," Cassian told him. "Can you tell us your name?"

"I....Look stupid? Name...B...Bla....ir. Bl...ahhh...."

"Blair?" Jim said. "Is that right? No, just nod. Don't waste your strength trying to talk."

Blair smiled weakly and nodded.

Jim laughed. "He's Blair, Cass. Blair."

Blair grabbed Jim's arm in a lose grip. "When I...When it's over, man, I want....crem..."

Jim laid a finger over Blair's lips. "You're not going to die, Blair. Don't talk like that. Do you hear?"

Blair stared up at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Sure, man. Sure."

"How are you feeling, Blair?" Cassian asked, easing a thermonitor into his ear.

He winced away from the hard plastic. "Stage four, man. Not long now."

"Don't count yourself out so quick, Blair," Cassian said, frowning over the temp reading. "I've given you some meds to bring down the fever and an antibotic to try to get the infection under control."

Blair's eyes widened. "No..." he whisper shouted. "No...meds. Not my...way....Pollute ...body with...unnatural..."

"Blair..."

"No....drugs, man."

Jim grabbed Blair's forearms and pushed him back down, restraining him with ease. "Don't make a fuss, Kid," he snapped, leaning low into Blair's face.

Blair's head tossed, his weak fumbling arms thrashed. "No...drugs."

Jim jerked Blair up. "Do you want to die?"

Blair stilled, paling even more than before.

"Do....you....want...to...die?" Jim's voice rose with each word.

"I....." Tears formed in Blair's eyes, spilled over, bathing his too lean face. "Want to...live."

"Then let us do what we can to save you, Kid," Cassian said.

Blair's gaze flicked between the two worried faces.

"Do you agree?" Cassian demanded. "Will you allow me to continue medical treatment?"

"I..."

"Your fever is coming down, Blair," Cassian added.

"Mom..."

"You're mom refused treatment, didn't she?" Jim said. "And died. You came up here to die too."

Blair sagged into Jim's arms. Jim tightened the embrace, petting the fever dampened curls. "Give yourself a chance, Kid. Let us do what we can."

Blair nodded. "Forgive me, mom," he rasped. "I want...to live."

Cassian crouched down beside Blair, giving him a quick look over. The meds he'd been given had turned the trick. The boy was getting stronger. "You're looking better, Blair."

Blair shrugged, turning his head away. "Yeah, ain't that great?" he murmured without feeling. "Looks like I'm gonna live, huh? Lucky me."

"You don't sound very happy about it."

Blair gave a brittle snorting laugh. "Right. I'm delighted. I did everything but live up to the convictions of my beliefs. I'm a fraud, man. A fraud."

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself, kid?"

Blair drew the blankets up over his head. ""Look, I'm tired. Okay?"

Cassian studied the dejected figure for a moment, then patted his arm. "Yeah, okay. Get some rest, Kid."

He shoved to his feet and motioned Jim to follow him. The two men walked in silence to the edge of the clearing.

"Trouble?" Jim asked as they came to a slow halt.

Cassian nodded. "I'm worried about the kid."

Jim's glance darted toward the reclining figure by the fire. "I thought the meds were doing him right."

"The medication is doing what it's supposed to do." Cassian assured him quickly. "But his state of mind...Jim, the kid has survivors guilt. He thinks he should have died."

"He'll get over it," Jim said, then glanced back at the huddled figure. "Won't he?"

Cassian was slow to answer. "Maybe. I hope so."

"You thinking suicide?"

Cassian shrugged. "I'm thinking he bears watching.....Careful watching."

"Ah, this is crazy."

"This," Cassian said firmly. "Is serious guilt. He wants to die."

"Well that is just simply not an option." Jim took several steps toward the kid, then whirled and returned to Cassian's side. "What can we do about this?"

"Jim, there is something going on with you where this kid is concerned. He is a stranger to you, right? You don't know him from before?"

"Hell, no. I don't know what you are talking about. The kid is in trouble. I'm a cop. I want to help him. It's what I do."

"Yeah, but not on this personal a basis. I've never seen you get this close this fast to anyone. What is going on with you?"

Jim sighed, staring at the youth. "I...." He shrugged, shaking his head. "I don't know. I just know I have to...I don't know...Protect him. No idea why. Just feel it in my bones." A spark of anger fired in Jim's blue eyes. "Dammit, Cassian. What can I do?"

"Encourage him to want to live."

Jim snorted. "Yeah, right. We did that already, remember? He was sick as death at the time and still fought like hell. How we gonna convince him he's got something to live for now that he's thinking of all the things he's lost."

"Give him something to live for?"

"Yeah, like what, for instance?"

Cassian's smile was wicked. "Charm him, Jim. You're so good at it."

"Funny guy," Jim murmured, slanting his a 'yeah, right glance'. "You oughta take that act on the road."

Cassian shrugged. "Just trying to lighten the situation."

"Yeah, I know," Jim leaned down and raked up a handful of stones, throwing one into the forest. "Okay, we need a plan of action." Another stone followed the first, rattling the leaves. "so, what do we know about this guy?" Number three sailed. "He's a biker."

"A new age biker," Cassian added. "Not your standard bend and mutilate hell's angel type."

Another stone took wing. Somewhere nearby a bird did the same. "He just lost his mother, who by all appearances was all the family he had."

"To a disease that could have been cured easily with the same medical attention he consented too."

"Oh, help me here, why don't you?" The last stone soared in a high arch, clattering through the leaves as Jim turned to face his friend. "He feels he's broken some sort of covenant with his mother? Some sort of death pact? Is that what you're telling me?"

"He said something about not living up the the strength of his convictions, Jim."

Jim thrust a hand roughly through his shorn hair. "Lord help us. Somebody ought to shoot Kenny Loggins."

Casssian snorted a short laugh. "That would be very beneficial. Just how do you arrive at that?"

"Never liked that stupid song."

"I'm not following you here, Jim."

"Not important. We have got to bring the kid around. I don't want to see him going toes up over some stupid idea he's gotten into his head." Jim turned a nervous glance toward the young man. "Charm him, huh? this ought to be good. The big ruff cop charming the soft hearted new age hippy type."

"I can see it."

Jim scowled at his chuckling friend. "Bite it, Cass."

"See, you ooze charm."

"Like a putrid cut."

"You might consider giving him someone to care about."

"Yeah? Who?"

"You...."

Jim paled. "Run that by me again...."