Blair shouted to warn his partner. Fortunately, the warning reached him in time and Detective Jim Ellison spun around, immediately focusing on the gunman behind him. Jim fired off a shot that smacked into the crate the guy was crawling around, splaying splinters into the guy's face.

"Don't even think about it."

A minute later, the man, Edward Mackie, suspected drug runner, hitman, thief and all around bad guy, was nicely bundled up, waiting for a patrol car to pick him up. Jim and his partner, friend and guide, Blair Sandburg were onto bigger fish. Namely Eddy’s boss.

The tip had come in during a slow day where the two of them were hanging around the bullpen, trying to come up with an excuse to do something other than paperwork. When the call came in from Narcotics for a helping hand in taking down one of the better-known drug lords, the two had jumped at the chance.

So far, it had been going pretty smooth. The guards were now all taken out and all they had to do was convince the guys left inside that it would be far easier in the long run to just give themselves up and avoid the blood shed.

Of course, with Jim and Blair involved, they should have known it wouldn't continue so nicely. If there were two people who had gotten into more bizarre situations, had more shots fired at them, spent more time in the hospital, it was those two. The jury was still out on whether they had incredible luck, since they always seemed to come out of it in one piece (more or less) or if they had the worst, since they always ended up in those situations in the first place. One thing everybody agreed with was that it was about time for their luck to change. They were right.

As the fully automatic gunfire started raining out of the building, people started to dive behind cars, duck behind concrete retaining walls and dart around brick corners. Just about everybody escaped unharmed. Jim got off lightly with a graze on his leg. But he wasn't really paying attention to himself any more. His entire being was focused on his partner.

He cradled the body in his arms, a big hand pressing down on the gapping hole that had erupted as a bullet entered Blair’s lower back and burst out of his chest, desperately trying to stop the blood that was spilling onto the ground. Jim’s hearing was open full,  to catch the faltering rhythm of his Guide's heart. He'd been a medic, he knew the path the bullet had taken and he could hear Blair's heart struggling against the damage it had sustained. And then he heard it stop. He opened his hearing wider, hoping against hope that he was wrong, that his guide wasn't dead, that by some miracle, his heart would start up again, as it had done before. At the fountain.

A miracle had happened before. His guide had died and come back. Blair had survived the incident with hardly a scratch and the doctors had checked him over and sent him home. What he'd had of a home.

In the moments when Blair's heart had stopped, Jim had sworn that he would do anything and everything in his power to make up for what he'd done, if only he could have his Guide back. Something answered and he'd tried to fulfill his promise. He'd talked to Blair, explained what had been happening. Alex had left and Jim didn't really care beyond his professional duty. His Guide was back.

And now he was gone. There was no heartbeat, there was no rasp of breath entering lungs, and Jim could feel a chill settling in. His Guide was dead. He was so close already, it didn't take much for him to slip into the oblivion of a zone.

***

Simon Banks, Captain of the Major Crimes unit of the Cascade PD, broke down and cried. It wasn’t something that happened very often, but he felt he could allow himself the weakness in this incident. The death of Sandburg swept through the unit leaving destruction in its wake. Nothing else was accomplished that day and most of the unit left early.

Jim was a wreck. They’d had to pry Blair’s body out of his hands and by that time, he was completely unresponsive. When Simon had finally gotten there, the scratch on Jim’s leg was taken care of, and Banks saw the distinct signs of some kind of zone-out. An hour later, Simon had managed to get the man home, but beyond that Jim just sat on the couch staring into the wall.

It was so quick, so fast. One day the kid’s telling jokes in the pen, and the next, he’s on a slab in the morgue. At least they got the guys who did it, for all the good it did now. At least Jim was still breathing. That was the only thing Simon could take as a sign that Jim might eventually snap out of it.

Rummaging around in the kitchen, Simon quickly found makings for coffee and started a pot. It was the only thing he could think of to do. As the dark liquid started to perk, he looked around the loft and mourned the loss of his friend. He really hoped that he wouldn’t lose Jim as well.

His musings were interrupted by the shrill ring of his cell. Now what.

"Banks!"

"Captain, I think you need to get down here." The timid voice of Rachel, the new coroner, held a strange note, and not what Simon was expecting to hear. He expected sorrow, anger, and a whole range of other emotions, not wonder and surprise.

"Can’t this wait?" He looked over at Jim, surprised to see his blue eyes glued on the phone. It was the first sign of life out of Jim since. . .

"No sir I don’t think this can. You might want to bring Jim with you."

"Are you nuts! His Partner just died, and you want me to bring the guy down to the CORONER’S OFFICE!" Simon turned away from the intense gaze.

"I really think you both need to get over here. Now." Again there was that strange note that sent a shiver down his spine. He was about to open his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the click of the phone. Wondering what on earth could be important enough to drag him and Jim down to the station, he turned around and realized that Jim was no longer sitting on the couch.

***

He heard it. An impossible sound. The thumping of a heart he knew better than his own. Then the overlying whisper of a voice repeating a phrase over and over made it through to his hiding place. It didn’t hurt here, nothing hurt. But the words and heart beat washed over him, pulling him back from the blankness.

"This can’t be happening, man. This can’t be happening."

***

By the time Simon made it back to the station, he was beyond any of the more complicated emotions and was just worried. There was that call, then when he turned around, Jim wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He wasn’t in his apartment, his truck wasn’t in its stall. It was at the station.

The truck was pulled up in front, the engine still running and the door left open. Simon had shivers traveling up and down his spine so fast, he was almost trembling. With a sick feeling in his stomach, very similar to the time he first found out about Jim’s senses, he made his way down to the coroner’s office.

He stood there at the door, his hands clammy and his breath fast. He wasn’t sure he wanted to open the door, knowing that what ever he saw would alter his life in ways he couldn’t imagine. Things were about to take a trip out into the Sandburg zone. . .

Now was not the time to start thinking about Sandburg and the fact that his body was lying on a slab on the other side of the door. Before he gave himself a chance to think any further he just opened the door.

What greeted him was a sight very similar to earlier, Jim cradling the body of his guide, oblivious to everything else. Only the shivers up his spine were dead on, since the guide was very much alive and on the edge of a panic attack .

"Holy shit." He meant to say it with more emphasis, but it came out in a whisper.

"My sentiments exactly, Captain." He jumped at the voice from right beside him.

"Rachel!" She looked at him with a slightly shell shocked expression on her face. He wondered if it was mirrored on his.

"He just… woke up. I…" She licked her lips nervously. "That is not something that happens. People who are that dead don’t just get up."

"What do you mean that dead?" Simon started patting pockets to see if he had a cigar on him, rules be damned. He wanted, no needed, that little bit of normalcy just then. He thought he was taking this rather calmly otherwise.

"He was cold! Stone cold dead, and the next thing I know he starts breathing." There was a hint of hysteria in her voice, but she took a deep breath and resumed the calm facade Simon was more familiar seeing from her.

"There’s got to be an explanation." Giving up on finding a cigar, he just shook his head in wonder.