Blair's hands trembled and he couldn't remember how the gun appeared
in them. He'd figure it out later, right now he was concentrating
on the gun that was currently being pointed in his direction.
The
kid in front of him was shaking, too -- whether from fear or
withdrawal Blair wasn't sure and it didn't matter anyway.
Jim lay motionless at his feet, knocked senseless by the car that
had clipped him as it carried away their suspect. Blair had run
to
him and rolled the detective onto his back to make sure he was
still breathing. Relieved, he had loosened the belt and was
putting his own jacket under Jim's head when he heard the raspy
voice demanding their wallets.
Even in the dim light, he could see track marks on the rail thin
arms and a sheen of sweat on the face when the air was chill enough
to make breath visible. A junkie in need of cash for his next
fix... and one who might shoot a victim, whether willing to give up
the cash or not. After all, an unconscious man and his worried
friend were easy marks and this area was deserted at this time of
night.
With the gun having made it miraculously from the ground at his feet
to his hands, Blair was faced with a moral dilemma... could he
actually take a life? Even if it was in defense of his life,
his
love, his soulmate? Could he, Blair Sandburg, fire this weapon
--
even with the intent to injure -- knowing that his ignorance of the
weapon could cause the death of a boy who could not have passed his
eighteenth birthday?
He saw the muscles in the boy's arm begin to tense and knew that the
choice was upon him. The noise of the shot stunned his ears and
the
force of the shot jerked his arm up. He hadn't expected the kick
to
be so hard and he had to take a step back to avoid falling. His
ears were still ringing as Jim stirred.
(Later)
"What is it, Blair? Still thinking about that kid?"
"Yeah." Blair's voice was so soft that Jim nearly didn't catch
the
single word.
"No harm done, Chief. The shot went high and the kid ran.
You're
okay, I'm okay, the kid's okay... I don't understand the problem."
"The problem, Jim, is that the shot went high because I aimed it
high!" Jim was startled to see his partner spring from the couch,
nearly shouting as he tried to explain his feelings. "I couldn't aim
at him! With you lying at my feet, your life in MY HANDS, I
couldn't shoot him! How can you ever trust me to back you up,
now?
HUH? 'Cause I don't trust myself to do it now. That kid,
that
JUNKIE, could have killed us both because I couldn't bring myself to
even AIM at him!" Blair punctuated his shouted words with
a fist
to the back of the couch, the tabletop, the wall, whatever was handy
as he paced during his rant.
Sensing that the worst was out in the open, Jim walked over to his
friend and turned him so that they were eye to eye, though the taller
man had to bend his knees a bit to get the desired effect.
"Chief, look, I trust you. I do. You couldn't bring yourself
to
take a life. I respect that. The reverence you have for
life is
such an integral part of you that I can't imagine you without it.
I
wouldn't want to. It's part of what makes you a Shaman, it's
part
of what makes you a good guide, it's a part of YOU. And I wouldn't
change a thing about you. Besides, your instincts were sound...
the
gun he had on you? They found it about ten feet away. It
was a
cigarette lighter."
"A lighter... it wasn't a real gun?"
"Nope. And I'm betting that you knew that somehow and that's why
you couldn't shoot that kid. You did the right thing!"
With those words, all the tension left Blair's body and he slumped
into Jim's arms, accepting the comfort they offered.
*end*