Blue eyes haunted his dreams.
Over the next few weeks, each time Jim visited, for the briefest moment, Blair would look at him.
And see him.
Jim tried to convince the staff. But Blair only connected with him when they were alone, and he soon gave up.
In his dreams, the blue eyes pierced his soul. He knew those eyes.
Each time the connection was made, Jim grabbed Blair, hanging on, hugging, gently caressing and petting, trying by sheer force of will to bring his friend back a little further.
The dreams continued, at times spilling over into waking hours. There was pain in the blue eyes. Hurt. Confusion. Desperation. Accusation.
And he had caused it.
Jim’s senses began to falter.
His nerves began to fray.
It hurt, at level in his soul he didn’t even know existed, to have his guide, his friend and brother, be so close, yet out of reach.
Today, the hurt became too intense. Once again seeing a flicker of recognition from Blair, Jim wrapped his arms around him and clung to him like mad. He sagged against the smaller man’s chest, weeping silently.
The aching sadness in the blue eyes became too much to bear. The blue eyes spoke volumes to him, begging him to make it better, to take away the pain, to make him whole again.
He couldn’t stay in this place any longer.
He knew those blue eyes. They belonged to his friend, his brother, his sentinel.
Blair left the place he’d retreated to…pulled from the safe, dark recesses by the need to wipe the pain and tears he’d caused from those blue eyes.
Blair returned the hug.
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