Kit watched the lines on his student's forehead smooth out and smiled to himself.  Now, he was getting somewhere.  Several minutes passed as Blair's breathing slowed and his body lost all its tension, slowing molding to the ground beneath it.  Kit wondered if Blair would have the same reaction he did when he had finally gotten this right.  Kit had nearly jumped out of his skin, and his grandfather had laughed his ass off at him.  He had been a little pissed at the old man at first, but later it was funny.  And it would be funny now if Blair reacted that way.  He ordered himself not to laugh, however.  He did not want to make Blair angry with him.  After all, they didn't have the bond of family to make forgiveness easy.  Or rather, easier.

 

He sat down a few feet away and waited for Blair to either fail or succeed.  He hoped he would succeed, but Kit himself had had to try this several times before he finally got it.  In fact, by the time he manage to complete this one simple exercise, he was ready to tell his grandfather that he was nuts.

 

He was so deep in thought that he jumped when Blair did.

 

"Holy shit!" Blair was on his feet suddenly and staring down at the ground with a look of horrified incredulousness on his face.  "Ah, man!"  His whole body shivered.

 

All Kit's good intentions went right out the window, and he burst into laughter.

 

Blair spun around to glare at him.  "Not funny, man!  So not funny!  You could have warned me."

 

Kit tried to straighten his face, but it was a lost cause.  "I couldn't tell you what to expect.  If you're expecting it, you'll convince yourself that you feel it when you don't."  He was still chuckling.

 

"I am so glad that I could provide you with your morning entertainment, man!"

 

Kit got up.  "Blair, I'm sorry."  He walked over and took Blair by the shoulders.  "Don't worry about it.  I did the same thing."

 

Blair sighed in exasperation and tried to pull away, but Kit would not let him.

 

"I'm serious!" Kit assured him.  "And what's more you did it a hell of lot faster than I did!  I had to try four times before I succeeded."

 

"Really?"

"Yes, really.  Now, tell me, what was it like?"  Kit let him go and stepped back to watch and listen.

 

"It was wild.  Fantastic, but scary as hell too."

 

"Go ahead," he coaxed.

 

"The ground wasn't cold anymore.  It was warm, and it felt like it was holding me.  Not me lying on it, but like being held gently like a baby with its mother."

 

"Yeah, just like that." Kit remembered the feeling.

 

"And it breathed and I could hear—it's crazy."

 

"You could hear a heartbeat."  It was not a question.  Kit knew; he remembered that too.

 

"Yeah.  The wolf was there and then he was me or I was him.  Both maybe.  I let him in and I felt so safe.  Loved."

 

"Then you understand.  We are all children of the Earth, but you have a connection to the Mother that most people don't have.  You have always had it but didn't feel it consciously.  Unconsciously, I think you did.  Now you're conscious of it, aren't you?  You can feel it."

 

"I do.  I really do."

 

"What do you feel?"

 

"A need to help, to heal, to teach.  I do feel somehow connected to something bigger."

 

"Exactly.  And, like I said, you've always had it.  You're just acknowledging it now."

 

"I want to learn more."  Blair was wide-eyed and looking almost feverish.

 

Kit laughed.  "I think you had better assimilate this first.  Come on, let's go find Alex.  Work with him for a while and when you don't look shell-shocked anymore, we'll try something else."

 

"Kit, shell-shocked probably wasn't the best phrasing there."

 

"Good point.  Sorry.  Just remember.  Relax.  You get all tense and jittery, you'll shoot your own foot or something, and Alex will laugh the whole time he's kicking your ass for it."

 

"Gee, that's comforting."

 

Kit threw an arm over Blair's shoulder.  "I speak from experience, my friend.  Only I shot him."

 

"You're kidding!"

 

Kit released him and started walking.  Blair followed. 

 

"Nope, just barely grazed his arm.  You should have seen the look on his face!  Of course, at the time, I imagine my own face was much worse.  I was horrified.  I was trying to apologize, beg forgiveness, and get the hell out of Dodge, and he was stalking me like some pissed off badger.  Then he just pounced on me.  He knocked me down and kicked me in the ass, flipped me over and then just burst out laughing.  I think I must have been yelling, but I couldn't tell you what I might have said.  Anyway, Pete ran up and checked on Alex who was shooing him off, saying that he was fine.  So then, Alex helped me up and even brushed me off.  I was still babbling about how sorry I was and Alex just looked at me with those eyes—you've seen those eyes, right?—And said, 'Get back over there, you little bastard.  And this time try hitting the fucking target, not your fucking teacher.'  And that was it.  Pete slapped a bandage on him and we continued.  To this day, he looks at me sometimes and says, 'you little bastard.'  We laugh and go on."

 

"You're all crazy."

 

Kit could not help but agree with that assessment.  "I know," he admitted.  "Welcome to the funny farm." 

 

Pete frowned as he pulled his rental car into the convenience store parking lot.  He had to get moving on some sort of plan, and he could not do that if he was completely cut off from civilization.  He pulled out his cell and turned it on.  The "no service" message blinked at him.  He turned it off.  It was worth a try.  He got out of the car and made his way over to the pay phone on the corner of little brick building.  He dug his calling card out of his pocket then thought better of it.  Chad would just have to deal with the collect call until Pete got this mess straightened out and could pay him back.  Jim would have to deal with it too.

 

He dialed Chad's number first, said his name at the appropriate time and waited.  But it was a machine that answered Chad's phone.  He swore and hung up.  He tried Chad's office next.  Voicemail.  He had to hang up again.  Jim was next.  He wanted to let the man know that Blair was safe.  He dialed and jumped through the hoops, but when the machine at Jim's place picked up, it was not Jim's voice he heard.  He struggled to listen over the recording that was announcing his call and realized that he was hearing Robert Rose's voice.  He could not make out what the man was saying.  "Fuck!"  He slammed the phone down and dug out the calling card again.  It was a risk, but apparently they were in trouble already.  Rose had Jim.  He dialed again, this time charging his card.

 

"Mr. Sandburg," the voice on the machine said, the tone patronizing, "if you are interested in seeing Jim Ellison ever again, you'll need to make arrangements to meet me.  The details of how to reach me are here in Jim's home.  I do hope to hear from you soon."

 

"Son of a bitch!"  He dropped the receiver and ran both hands over his face and through his hair.  "Okay, he never left the general area.  Couldn't have.  Okay.  Okay."  Pete's mind was racing.  He hung up the phone and paced before it.  "What now?  Send Kit and Jesse.  Yeah.  DON'T tell Blair.  Won't matter.  It's not that he'll let Jim go if Blair shows.  No, then he'll have them both back, just the way he wants.  Can't tell Blair.  See if Kit can find Jim and get him out of there.  Maybe send Alex, too.  Tell him kill 'em all and let Lucifer sort 'em out. Arrgh!"  A woman came out of the store then and stared at him.  "My life sucks," he told her.  "Be very glad you aren't me."  The woman hurried to her car.  "Wonderful, Peter, frighten the locals.  Smart."  He sighed.  "So much for clever planning."  He needed to call Simon Banks.  If the man did not know already, he needed to be told. 

 

Simon stared at Jim's empty desk.  Jim was late.  It was not that Simon was exactly in a hurry to share his information with Jim.  He was dreading it in fact, but it was not like Jim to be late either.  At least, not without calling.  Reluctantly, he picked up the phone and called the loft.  He heard the click of the answering machine and was about to hang up when he realized that the voice reaching his ear did not belong to Jim or Blair.  He listened to the message and hung up the phone slowly.  He sat there in shock for a split second before his training and his temper kicked in.  "Joel!" he yelled as he stood, flinging his chair back from the desk to smack the wall behind it.  "You're with me!  Henri, put out an APB on Jim.  Rafe, call Forensics, tell them to meet me at Jim's!"

 

He heard the chorus of exclamations but did not stop to address them.  They would figure it out.  Joel was behind him as he exited the bullpen. 

 

An hour later, Forensics had nothing, and Simon was staring at the phone number he found inside an envelope addressed to Blair.  He reached for his cell phone only to have it ring just as he touched it.  "Banks," he snapped.

 

"Captain Banks.  Thank God.  Do you know how long it took me to track you down?  I've been standing here freezing my ass off for over an hour."

 

"Devereaux?  That you?"

 

"Yes.  Listen, are you aware that Jim—"

 

"Has been kidnapped?  Yeah, I'm standing in his loft right now.  Where are you?  Where is Blair?  What the hell is going on?  Did you know your office blew up?"

 

"My office blew up?  Great.  Peachy.  I'm not surprised really.  We're all fine.  I know who's behind all this.  Did Jim tell you?"

 

"I haven't talked to Jim.  What is going on, damn it!?"

 

"The Freedom Coalition.  George Baker."

 

"Oh, Lord!  Baker is a sociopath!"

 

"Yeah, I know.  Listen, I'm going to send Kit and Jesse out there to help you."

 

"What?"

 

"I don't think Rose ever left the area.  I'm thinking he might have crossed the border into Canada or headed down the coast, but he has to be pretty close, right?"

 

"Makes sense, I suppose."

 

"I'm going to see if Jesse can come up with some possible locations and he and Kit may be able to go in and get Jim out.  What do you think?"

 

"I think you're nuts!"

 

"Well, I'm not handing Blair over to him, and I'm not letting Blair hand himself over, so that's my next best idea."

 

"No, you listen to me, Devereaux.  I can go along with Jesse giving us some possible locations, but then it becomes a police matter."

 

"Right.  And the police have so successful so far dealing with Baker.  Captain Banks, we are going to have to kill this guy to get him off our backs."

 

"Devereaux, let the law handle it."

 

"I don't think I can do that."  The line disconnected.

 

"Damn it!" Simon hung up his own phone.  He looked at the number in his hand again.  He would call from the station where they could set up to trace the call.  He doubted it would work.  Rose would be expecting that and would take precautions, but it was worth a try.  It was his only option at the moment.  What he would say to Rose, he did not know.  He could not give the man Blair and would not if he could.  He was with Devereaux on that at least.

      

Alex shook his head.  "Blair, it's not going to bite you."

 

A grimace was the only response.  Alex reached out to his pupil.  "Here, give it to me."  The gun was shoved at him.  "Watch," he ordered.  He tossed the weapon from one hand to the other, spun it on one finger, even pointed it at his own chest.  "The gun itself is harmless.  The safety is on; no bullet is chambered. You are safe.  I am safe.  The gun is not a danger to either of us right now.  Now take it."  Blair hesitated then reached out.  Alex still had it pointed toward himself, and he saw the fear in Blair's eyes.  "Stop," he said before the other man could touch the gun.  "It's not a snake.  It's a pen.  It's a book you want to read.  It's an artifact that you want to examine.  It's your girlfriend's—well, maybe we don't need to go there.  Get the idea?" 

 

Blair nodded.

 

"Now, take it."

 

This time the hesitation was nearly imperceptible, but the grip on the gun was still tentative.  Alex smiled indulgently.  "Better, but not quite there yet."

 

"I'm trying."

 

"I know.  That wasn't criticism.  Give it back.  Let me show you something else."  He had not finished the sentence before he had the gun back.  "Problem number two.  You have no control.  Know why?"

 

Blair shook his head.

 

"Because you aren't holding the gun.  Rather you are letting it lay in your hand.  You have to hold it.  You are its control.  Not vice-versa.  Take control or you will do what you most dread.  You'll hurt or kill someone with it for lack of control."  He gripped the gun in his hand, turned quickly, flicking off the safety and chambering a round as he did, and fired at the target.  The bullet hit dead center.

 

The astonished look on Blair's face was laughable.  "I think you may be better than Jim."

 

"Thank you.  Point is, I have control of the gun.  I'm not going to fire wild.  I'm not going to let it fire before I'm ready and I'm not going to drop it."

 

"Then you have one up on Jim already!" Blair laughed.  "I swear, the man can not seem to hold on to his gun!  How he survived the Rangers, covert-ops, and all these years as a cop is beyond me."  Suddenly, he seemed to realize what he was saying.  His smile died, and he lowered his eyes.

 

Alex touched his shoulder.  "It's okay to remember that he was your friend, you know?"

 

"Yeah."

 

He said nothing else, so Alex continued.  "Anyway, take the gun and let me show you how to hold the thing properly so that even if Jim drops his gun, you can back him up."

 

"I'm not going back there."  The statement was quick and sharp.

 

"Okay, so even if Kit drops—no, wait, I taught him.  He'd better not drop his damn gun.  Okay, if Jesse drops his gun, you can back him up.  Pete taught Jess, so it's a possibility."  Alex grinned.

 

Blair smiled as he took the gun from Alex's hand.  Alex carefully positioned his hand around the gun.  "Now, grip it tight."  He physically turned Blair to face the target.  "Use your other arm to steady it right now.  You're not ready for one arm shooting yet.  Focus on the target."  He gave the younger man time to do as he asked.  "Fire."

 

Blair's eyes closed; the gun fired.  Blair jumped and the bullet hit the dirt several yards in front of the target.

 

"Well, that won't do, will it?"  Alex tried to keep a straight face.

 

Blair frowned.  "Sorry."

 

"Problem number one—"

 

"We're on three."

 

"Okay, problem number three, you can't close your eyes, you can't jump, you can't lower your arm."

 

"That's three, four, and five."

 

"Not really.  They are all related actually.  When you can't see, your hearing gets bumped up a notch, making the sound of the gun seem louder and you jump.  The jump affects your aim.  You have a tendency to drop or raise your arm.  See?  All related.  Oh, and by the way, I tricked you.  You took the gun with the safety off and a round chambered, and yet we are both still alive.  Now, if I have to, I'll get some toothpicks and prop your eyelids open, but that will be very painful.  Also, get used to the noise.  Accept that it's going to be loud.  Expect it, and accept it, and it won't be nearly as scary.  Hold the gun steady.  Remember, you move and the gun moves.  Got it?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Try again."

 

Blair sighed, and Alex felt like a tyrant.  Blair Sandburg was hating every minute of this.  Of course, that was as much good as bad.  Kit had been too cocky to begin with, until his little mishap, the scar from which still graced Alex's shoulder.  Caution was good.  Fear was not.  Blair was still afraid.  If Alex could get him beyond fear, he could teach him the skill.  If not, Blair would never belong in the agency.

 

"Eyes open," Alex reminded.  "It's going to be loud.  Tell yourself that and get ready to hear it.  When you're ready, fire."

 

Alex watched him swallow and heard him mutter, "Eyes open, gonna be loud."  He fired.  He still missed, the shot going wide to the right and striking a nearby tree.  "Now what'd I do wrong?" 

 

"Turned your head away, and the gun went with your head."

 

"Damn it!"

 

"Let's try again."

 

"It won't work!  I've been trying for a month at the Academy.  I never got it right there, and I won't get it right now."

 

"Not with that attitude.  Besides, your Academy teacher was not me.  Are you insulting my abilities?"

 

"No!"  It was the response Alex wanted.

 

"All right then.  Let's try again."

 

Blair turned back to face the target and raised the weapon again.  "Eyes open, gonna be loud, don't turn your stupid head," he mumbled this time, and Alex smiled at the determination on his face.  But a little help might not be a bad idea.

 

Alex discreetly moved behind him and placed his hands gently on either side of Blair's head.  "Now fire."

 

He did.  Center, just an inch above the hole left by Alex's shot.

 

"I did it."  The tone was a mixture of fear and happiness.  Still more fear than happiness, however, and Alex figured he had had enough for the day.

 

"Yes, you did.  Safety on."

 

Blair quickly complied.

 

"Hand it over.  That's it for today."

 

"That's all?" Blair relinquished the gun rather than throwing it into Alex's hands.  More progress.

 

"Yes.  Let this sink in.  Your mind will work on it, and we can try again tomorrow."

 

"Pretty bad, huh?"

 

"Oh, I don't know."  Alex removed the clip from the gun and ejected the bullet from the chamber.  "You didn't shoot yourself.  You didn't shoot me.  You hit the target once.  You did better than Kit."

 

To Alex's surprise, Blair burst into laughter.  "Well, from what he told me, I couldn't have done much worse!"

 

"Told you, did he?  The little bastard."  Alex laughed.  "Lucky for him, I don’t hold grudges.  Well, very often anyway."

 

"Still working on forgiveness," Blair said absently.

 

"Yeah.  Sometimes, it's easy.  Sometimes, it's hard.  And sometimes, just sometimes, it's impossible.  Kit was easy.  Where does Jim fall?"

 

"I don't know yet."

 

"Well, as Jesse says, been there, done that."  Alex put his arm around Blair's shoulders even as he hoped that Blair would not ask for the explanation that he was not sure he was ready to give.  But Blair did not ask.  He wanted to, Alex could see that, but he did not and Alex was grateful.  "Let's get back to the cabin.  Pete should be back soon."