TITLE: INTERVENTION 3

AUTHOR: PEJA

FANDOM: The Sentinel/The Pretender

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Blair/m

Warnings: discussion of RAPE/TORTURE/Blair ooowies that make Jim Oooowies

Summary: Jarad begins

Author's note: Michelle, played by Lucca Stamatis, who also played Naomi, is the mother of Sydney's son, Nicholas, on The Pretender. The pasts of both her characters and well as the past of Nicholas so nicely follows the Sandburg family history, I thought what if they were hiding from The Center under this identity. Some of the canon and timeline facts have been distorted to make this scenerio work.

EMAIL: daltonavon@yahoo.com

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Blair crept out of his room under cover of darkness and tip-toed across the loft to stand before the balcony doors, staring out through the glass. His hand trembling, he rattled the doors, checking the security of the locks. Several times.

Finally satisfied, he slithered through the shadows, repeating this process for each window and door.

That done, he stood for a moment in the darkness with his arms wrapped around himself until his glance probed the unlit kitchen area. Harsh breathing rasped the air, a living swift shadow, he disappear out of sight into the recesses of that dark room. He reappeared seconds later with a dangerous looking butcher knife wrapped in his strangle hold.

Wild blue eyes darted to the French doors again and he backed himself into the corner furthest away from that entry and with painful slowness, hunched down with his back pressed into the tiny space. His eyes remained glued on the doors.

Upstairs, Jim stepped back from the railing and slumped down on his bed. "He does this every night. He'll be there in the morning when we go downstairs."

Jarad turned toward him, leaning his hip against the railing. His sharp gaze roamed over the other man's face, really looking at him for the first time. And found the devastating signs, the gray tinge to his skin, the deep etched lines in a rugged face, the dimming blue of eyes, the air of exhaustion that proceeds collapse, he sought.

"And you watch him from up here every night, don't you? You keep a silent vigil over him all night long."

Jim shrugged.

"Ellison...Jim," Jarad approached the bed and settled near him. "Who has been helping you with Nicholas?"

"Blair," Jim corrected, his voice drawled from lack of rest. "Call him Blair."

Jarad tilted a slight nod. "Blair. Who has been helping you, Jim?"

"Simon." Yawning, Jim snagged a handful of chocolate covered coffee beans and popped them, one at a time, into his mouth, grimacing at the flavor. "The guys in the bullpen."

"Do they know what you're going through? The lack of sleep? The caffeine you’re chewing like candy?"

Jim sighed, staring past Jarad. "Blair needs watching." He leaned up on an elbow and gulped down the cup of coffee at quick hand, refilling it from the half-full coffee machine. "I need to watch him."

Jarad studied Jim's worn face a long moment. "Jim, would you trust me to watch over him tonight? Would you sleep, just for the rest of tonight and let me take a watch?"

Jim blanched, shaking his head. "I don't think...."

"You need to take some time for yourself, Jim." Jarad pressed Jim back against the pillows, smoothing a hand over his pale face. "If you want to be of any use to Blair, you need to make sure you've got enough strength to be there when the break comes."

"But..."

"Jim, Blair's mom trusted me enough to contact me and ask me to come here to help him. Give me a chance to help you too. Trust me not to let Blair crumble while you rest."

Jim stared at the other man a long time, then sighed, shaking his head. "I can’t....fail him...again. Not again."

"How would taking care of yourself be failing him, Ellison?"

A sad smile tugged at the corner of Jim’s lips. "That kid's a natural born trouble magnet, you know? From the minute I met him I've been pulling him out of one scrap after another." He choked back a strangling yawn. "He doesn't have the survival instincts of a fly." A heavy laugh whispered past his lips. "He's taken on serial bombers, fanatic militia, even persuaded a group of people trapped on an elevator rigged to drop them five flights to do the Macarana." Another, slightly lighter, sleepy chuckle escaped him. "Simon got a copy of the elevator tape of that and showed me it one night when I was griping about something stupid."

Jarad shared a smile with the exhausted detective. "Get some rest, Ellison."

"He was kidnapped once, well, more than once, if te truth is known, but there was this one guy, David Lash. This one had Blair really freaked right from the start. The guy was a serial killer. Had a yellow scarf as his calling card. Would drown his victims in a pond and leave 'em to be discovered in their tubs. Thing is this guy would assume the life of the people he killed. Blair figured out that twist. But it was too late, the guy had killed his doctor and was working side by side with us."

"Blair's insight made him a target?"

Jim nodded. "He took Blair while I was working out in the gym. I thought I was gonna loose him that time too. Scared the hell out of me, but I...." He hesitated. "I found him in time. Lash was pouring this muscle relaxant crap down his throat when I got there. If I'd been five minutes later...."

"But you weren't." Jarad said in a hushed voice. "Blair was safe."

Jim's head rolled on the pillow, fighting the sleep that crept slowly from the feet up on him. "While we were wrapping up the office end of it Blair up and launches into this story about how when a guy saves someone’s life...Then he gets this damn grin on his face and calls me his blessed protector." A scoffing laugh whispered between them. "Some protector, huh? I let some piece of garbage fucking destroy him. And I can't even find the bastard that did this to him. I can't...." Jim reached for the chilled coffee but Jarad stopped him, pressing his hands down at his side. "I failed to keep him safe."

"No one can be there all the time, Jim. Blair's an adult. He knows you did everything you could. Knows you rescued him before anything worse could happen." Jarad met his gaze steadily. "He's alive, Jim. He's strong. He needs to heal, but he's gong to be all right. You have my word on it."

Jim continued to stare into the calm gaze over him for a moment, then a shadow flickered in his eyes and he nodded, once.

His eyes drifted closed and in seconds his breathing deepened into sleep.

***************

Jarad sat with Jim for half an hour, ensuring that the exhausted cop would stay wrapped in the healing arms of sleep then he eased off the bed and padded downstairs.

Blair's wide eyed stare stabbed into him as he stepped onto the lower level. His knuckles whitened around the handle of the knife in his hands and he tried to press deeper into the tiny space.

"You don't need to be scared, Nicholas."

Blair's gaze darted up the stairs than back to Jarad.

"Jim's sleeping. He's exhausted himself worrying over you."

Blair's coiled body shifted, loosening any stiffness that had seeped into the muscles. His wary glance followed Jarad across the loft.

"Mind if I sit with you awhile, Nicholas?" Jarad hunkered down across from the watchful man.

Blair's fingers twitched on the knife.

"Jim asked me to call you Blair. Is that all right? Do you want to be called Blair?"

Blair blinked, once.

Jarad allowed himself a short silent laugh. "Then Blair it is. I suppose you're more comfortable with the new name, seeing as how you kind of lost track of the old one."

Blair stared past him. And yet at him. Focused and unfocused. Alert and Ignoring.

"Blair," Jarad shifted to sit cross legged before the remote figure. "Blair, will you at least listen to me?"

Blair continued to watch him without watching.

"Blair, will you at least try. You're not the only one suffering here. Your mom and that man upstairs don't deserve this."

The withdrawn man began to rock on the balls of his feet, his arms wrapping around himself protectively.

"God knows we all wish we could make all this just a bad dream, but we can't, can we?"

A shadow flickered in Blair's eyes.

"Blair," Jarad leaned forward, snatching on the slight response. "I know what you're going through. The fear. The desperation" Jarad caught his lower lip between sharp teeth. "The....guilt."

Blair stopped rocking himself, sneering down his pert nose.

"The guilt is the worst. Wondering if you could have avoided getting caught up in the attack. If something you did might have brought the whole damn thing down on your head."

Blair's gaze darted away, staring into the darkness.

"What happened to you wasn't your fault, Blair. You were a victim. You have to believe that."

Blair's body trembled violently and he began the comforting rocking back and forth again, wrapping himself in a tighter embrace.

"I was stolen away from my family when I was young."

Blair stilled for a moment, absorbing that tidbit, then resumed his rocking.

"They took me to a place called The Center."

Blair shuddered.

"You've heard about The Center, Blair?" Jarad asked softly. "Maybe Michelle told you about it?"

Blair shifted, putting some small space between them.

"Michelle, that was the name I knew Naomi as back then. At The Center. You do recognize that name, don't you? Michelle?"

Blair's gaze darkened and he rocked faster, shaking his head.

"Yeah," Jarad murmured. "Yeah, you remember, Michelle."

Blair stopped rocking suddenly. He covered his ears with his hands as head fell backward, thudding against the wall. Once. Twice. Three times. Hard.

"Nicholas."

Blair went rigid, glaring at his tormentor.

"Nicholas, you need to stop this now. You need to talk to me."

Blair sneered, shaking his head.

"I know what you're feeling. I know the pain that's living inside your head, like some razor toothed monster waiting to leap on your sanity and tear it to shreds. Its easier to lock yourself away from the pain and pretend you don't feel its sour breath against your neck. Waiting." Jarad paused, staring deep into the horror in Blair's eyes. "Talk to me."

Blair's lips moved in a silent "No."

"Yes, Blair. You can't lock yourself away like this. Tell me, Blair, do you remember anything about before you were conditioned to forget? Do you remember what The Center did to you and Michelle?"

A silvery tear slipped down Blair's pale cheek and he shook his head.

"What do you remember, Blair? Anything?"

Blair's coiled body hurtled up and he headed for his room.

"Blair, stop."

Blair came to an abrupt halt, his body visibly wavering.

"Please, Blair, stop running away."

He looked back over his shoulder.

Jarod pushed to his feet and wandered to the sofa. "Come." He patted the cushion next to him. "If you won't do it for you, do it for Jim and Naomi."

Anguish spasmed over Blair's pale features. He turned, walking reluctantly to the sofa and settling on the soft cushion with the tender care of a man setting on the point of a dagger.

Minutes turned into a half hour. Forty five minutes, creeping up on an hour.

"Mom...." Blair's voice broke, made rusty from disuse. He coughed, cleared his throat and began again. "Mom was always saying we had to move. Every time I started getting comfortable in a place, she'd say we were off to a lovely new adventure. There's a safari in Africa, Blair. Won't that be fun, Blair? The bulls are running in Spain. Let's go see them, Blair. And lets pretend to be someone else, Blair. Who would you like to be this time, Blair?"

The words stopped.

Jarad waited for them to come again

"Why, mom? Why do we have to go now, I'd ask and she'd give this little laugh. Its the gypsy in our blood, my darling, she'd say. We've been here to long. We need to keep moving or the evil spirits would find us."

Blair swallowed. "I was sixteen. I didn't see past the hollow joking way she'd say that. I didn't see the terror in her eyes. I wanted to stay and I didn't want to hear the jabber chat she gave me. I told her I wouldn't go. That I wanted to make friends and I wanted to keep them. I told her if she made me go with her, I'd run away and she'd never hear from me again." Blair's hands fisted in his lap. "I was sixteen." He met Jarad's placid gaze. "I just wanted to stay in one place."

The words ran out again when Jim crept down the stairs.

"Who was she afraid of, Blair?" Jarad asked, distracting Blair from the big detective. "Do you know?"

"I didn't want to go away again," Blair whispered, his gaze locked on Jim's, pleading for understanding. "I liked living here. In Cascade. I had friends here."

Jim offered him a gentle smile. "Please, Blair, try to remember."

"Mom said..." Blair's body shook and his fingers dug deep into his sides, trying to tear the fear out of himself. "Mom said the demons would find us. They would hurt us if they found us. Hurt the people we loved."

"Jesus, Naomi," Jarad murmured. "Demons? To a sixteen year old as smart as Blair." He shifted around so he faced the younger man. "Blair? Blair, did Naomi ever mention any names. Do you remember Mr Lyle? Parker?"

Blair considered that and then shook his head.

"Mr Raines?" Jarad laid down his ace card.

The color flushed out of Blair's hollowed feature.

"Blair, have you ever heard that name? Raines?"

"No," Blair hissed, shaking his head violently. "No."

"You do know that name." Jarad pressed.

Blair rocked himself furiously, shaking his head. "Leave me alone. Jim, Please, I....Jim...."

Jarad threw Jim a warning back off glance.

"Shush, Blair," Jarad said softly. "Its all right. You don't have to talk about Raines right now. Not if you don't want to."

"Someone called. Claimed he had a hot tip on a breaking case for Jim. You remember, Jim?"

Jim nodded. "Yeah, I remember."

Blair's smile was weak, trembling. "But he had to come alone. Come right away. I told Jim I'd be fine here. Had some papers to grade that would keep me entertained until he got back."

"The night you were kidnapped?"

Blair nodded. "They came in through the balcony. I tried to get out the front, but they were waiting for me there too. I ran right into their arms before I realized." He shuddered, caught in the nightmare of his memories. "I fought them, Jim. I did, but they hit me from all directions. Someone got in a lucky shot across my head and I.....I went down. I....I think they started kicking me then. I don't remember clear after that. All kind of blends in until I woke up....there."

"Your abduction was well instramented." Jarad murmured with a nod. "A planned attack."

"I woke up in the dark. Alone. Chained from the ceiling. They'd taken all my....my clothes. So cold. I remember the cold. After I don't know how long, I got to thinking they weren't coming back. That I'd been left to die alone in the cold. That someone was gonna find my dead body. My naked dead body, and I was ashamed." Blair's eyes lowered. "But then they did come back."

"Blair, if this is too hard...."

"No. Need to say it now. If I don't...." His eyes drifted away, toward the horror of the past. "They came back and it started all over again. Hitting. Hitting. Hitting, not just with their fists. I could have dealt with the fists. I've taken beatings before, right Jim? I could have....but they got bored. Maybe I wasn't doing something right, I don't know. They started using iron rods on me. Not thick ones, thin. Hurt like I was being torn apart. I could feel the blood pouring out of some of those welts. I knew then that they were going to beat me to death. I could feel bones snapping. Taste blood in my mouth. Figured that I wouldn't wake up from that beating."

Silver tears caressed his cheeks. "But I did. In the dark. Bleeding....Alone." He laughed softly. "I didn't feel the cold so much after that." His glance darted toward Jim for an instant, than away again. "Don't know how long they left me there that time. But I knew that they would be back this time. And I knew they would hurt me again when they came." He sighed. "And they did come back. This time with whips. There were steel tips, sharp ones, on the ends, so every stroke cut into my skin. I was...bleeding harder than before. Thought I'd probably bleed to death and they wouldn't have any more fun." Blair's hands clenched and unclenched. "It was the blood they wanted. The blood that made them stop."

"They took some of your blood?" Jarad wanted to know.

Blair nodded. "The guy in charge of the beatings, a sandy haired sick bastard....He cut me and caught cups and cups of it. He.... drank my blood. Made me drink it too." His stomach heaved, but he managed to swallow the vileness down.

Shuddering against the bout of sickness, Blair stared into the past in silence for a bit. "When the old man finally came, he was furious. I thought he was going to kill the guy."

"This younger man, do you remember him from before?"

Blair ignored the question. "The old man said he was my father."

Jarad's breath hissed in his throat. "Sydney? Are you saying Sydney was a part of this?"

"He was so...ugly. All withered and scarred. And that air tank he dragged around. I'll never forget the sound of his breathing. My mom and him....Jesus." Blair closed his eyes against the thought

"Blair, that man your describing wasn't your father. He was Raines. Remember, I asked you if you'd heard that name?"

Blair nodded. "He said daddy is disappointed in you, young man. Daddy is going to see to it that you are properly punished." A fresh wash of tears escaped. "He told those bastards to rape me. He watched while they....they...Over and over again. And when they couldn't get it up, they used...things on me. Hurt me. And he just stood back and watched. Smiling. Offering a few ideas." Blair shook off the memories. "I prayed then. Prayed they would end it. I begged them to kill me cause I knew I would never be able to live with the memories." He met Jim's eyes. "I knew if I lived through it everyone would be able to see the filth that I'd become. No one would ever want to...to touch me again." A shudder rippled through him. "My own father, for god's sake." He cast Jarad a private glance and lowered his voice. "He said they'd let me die if...if I'd just pleasure them a little while longer. That no one would ever have to know I submitted. Just open your mouth and suck off the blonde guy, he said." Blair closed his eyes, shaking. "I did what he said. I did...everything they said. But they didn't kill me." He dropped his gaze to his hands in his lap. "Its not fair. He promised. Its not fair."

"Blair listen to me." Jarad slowly wrapped his fingers around Blair's hands.

The distraught man darted him a quick look, but allowed the touch, shuddering with every breath.

"Blair," Jarad went a step farther and lifted Blair's chin so he met his eyes. "That man was not your father. The man you described is Dr. William Raines. He's a sadistic bastard, and his little blond buddy is just as bad. I know, Blair. They put me through hell at The Center. Trust me, I know."

"Not my...father?"

"God, no. Your father is a different kind of man altogether. He kept me sane all my life."

"You know....him?"

Jarad nodded, smiling. "He's the closest thing to a father I had for most of my childhood and adult life. Your dads name is Sydney Green, Blair. He was put in charge of me when I was brought to the center. He kept most of the evil away from me. Still does, as far as that goes. He's a good man, Blair. A good man."

"If he's part of.....Part of what they did to me..."

"No, don't even think that way. What happened to you was a warning, Blair. Very likely to you. Most definitely to Sydney. These people, the people from The Center they use family to manipulate the ones they need to control." Jarod sighed, pressing back into the sofa. "The man who took you was involved in my own abduction."

"Raines?"

"Yes."

"Did he...?"

"I was a child, Blair. And somewhat protected by the power your father welds, but the things he and Parker arranged to have done to me were...inhuman. I'll carry memories of those things the rest of my life."

Blair ducked him head, hiding behind his mass of curls. "I...know. I'm...sorry."

Jarod heaved a small laugh. "It wasn't so bad all the time. I got lucky. Your father....Sydney was in charge of me. My brother, Kyle, drew Raines. He wasn't so lucky."

"Sydney Green." Blair rolled the name over his tongue, savoring it. "My father."

"You're going to love him, Blair. He is a man with a mind of his own, and the intelligence to make his own decisions, no matter how unpopular. A dangerous quality when you are part of something like The Center."

"You care a great deal about him, don't you?"

Jarod smiled a secret smile. "Sydney raised me. Oh, I know kidnap victims come to some sort of attachment to the kidnappers. Its a survival instinct. But I never knew I was stolen until I'd grown up. They told him, and he told me that my parents were dead. When I found out the truth, I blamed him but I was wrong. He's still helping keep me safe. Every step of the way, he's keeping me alive. He'll do the same for you."

"My....father..." Blair lifted shining eyes to Jim. "It wasn't my father who hurt me."

END PART 3