Winter

by Autumnburn

It was raining when Blair woke up. It had been raining in his dream, too, so for a moment he wasn’t sure if he was hearing or just remembering the patter of raindrops against his window. A glance at his clock revealed that he had beat his alarm by fifteen minutes. Pulling his arm out of the warm cocoon of blankets, he shut it off. He didn’t trust himself to stay awake if he lingered in his toasty bed, so he shoved the covers aside.

Blair was still shivering when he came out of his room, even under several layers of clothing. The loft was dark, but he could hear the coffee maker gurgling, so he knew that Jim was up already. Blair briefly considered turning the lights on - with a proper warning for Jim, of course - but his eyes were adjusting quickly. He could just make out the form of his room mate sitting at the kitchen table, likely reading the newspaper that Blair could barely see in the dark.

Jim looked up and smiled as Blair sat down opposite him. “Morning, Chief. Coffee’s almost ready.”

The aroma of the coffee alone was helping wake Blair up. With all the lights off in the loft, the only illumination came in through the windows. The sun wasn’t up yet, but the sky was turning a light gray. The streaks of rain against the windows cast moving shadows across the room.

“Chief?”

“It’s dark.” Blair muttered under his breath.

Jim smiled. “You can turn on the lights. It won’t blind me.”

“No, I meant outside. How long has it been raining?”

“Not as long as it seems. And the sun will be up soon.”

Blair glared. Why was Jim in such a good mood? Other than the fact that the dim lighting was easy on his senses, and that the rain had probably muffled outside sounds during the night, lending to a good night’s sleep, of course. “Never mind, man. I won’t make it to the station today, okay?”

“Yeah. You’ll have your hands full with college kids. My criminals will be nothing in comparison.”

“Funny.” Blair watched as Jim effortlessly navigated the dark kitchen to pour two cups of coffee. He accepted his with a soft “thanks,” and took a sip. It tasted stronger than normal, but it was warm so he drank it quickly.

When he glanced back up, Jim was looking at him quizzically. He did his best to ignore it. “I’ve got to get to Rainier. There’s a staff meeting I can’t miss.”

Five minutes later he was grabbing his keys from the bowl. “Try not to get into any shoot outs, Jim.”

“Thanks, chief. Be careful yourself.”

“Mr. Sandburg?”

Blair glanced up from the stack of tests he was grading and smiled at the student at his office door. “What can I do for you Drew?”

Drew took a hesitant step into the office, and Blair motioned to the only clear chair. Setting his backpack down gratefully, the student dropped into the chair. When he looked up at his teaching assistant, Drew was worrying at his lip, frowning. “I’m not going to be able to hand in my paper by Monday. I was wondering if I could get an extension.”

It wasn’t an uncommon request. All the professors had different policies on deadlines, but most made exceptions for students who personally asked in advance. Drew was a good - if quiet - student, so Blair knew the professor would be willing to listen. “Why can’t you finish it?” He asked.

Drew glanced down, suddenly unable to meet Blair’s eyes. “I’m heading home for the weekend - in Wisconsin. My brother is in the hospital.”

“I’ll talk to Professor Arshan, but I’m sure she’ll accept it late. I’m sorry about your brother. Is he going to be all right?”

The student shrugged, still keeping his eyes down. “I hope so. Probably.”

The rawness of his voice hit Blair. He realized that the boy in his office was fighting tears. Torn between giving him privacy or giving him council, Blair finally spoke. “May I ask what’s wrong?”

Drew took a deep breath as if to steady himself. “He... uh, he’s in the psychiatric ward. He gets these headaches, so he takes a lot of pain medication. But a couple days ago he took half a bottle of Tylenol. He never said...” Blair felt his chest tighten as he watched Drew blink back tears. “They pumped his stomach, so he’s doing okay.”

Blair nodded. There was no need to warn this student that once physically stable, his brother faced a more daunting task. He already knew. Blair remembered one of his friends in high school, who had in one fell swoop revealed his private, troubled world to everyone. They’d had no idea. He remembered feeling angry, being angry at his friend afterwards. Who would choose to keep everything inside, just to...

Okay was a relative term.

“Drew, I hope he gets better. And I hope you both...” Blair trailed off, unsure what to say that didn’t sound patronizing. Drew seemed to understand, though. He nodded and wiped at his eyes.

“I’d better get to class. Um, thanks Mr. Sandburg. About the paper.”

It was still drizzling at noon, so Blair ate lunch inside. There was a small break room not too far from his office, which is where he ended up today. Since he had avoided leaving the building at all cost, his lunch consisted of what consumables he had in his backpack - a granola bar and a bottled tea. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

“Greg, are you deaf? I told you not to bring it up.”

The only other occupant of the room was a very tall girl with a cell phone attached to her ear and apparently no qualms over who heard her conversations. Blair tried to tune her out, but her voice was loud and Blair was having trouble finding anything else to think about.

“Of course Blaine wants to come! We’ve only been planning this trip for four years, after all. She’s the one who put a bid in for Hatshepsut’s temple.”

Ah. She was probably an archeology student, then. They often grouped up to go on long trips, touring as many famous sites as they could.

“Greg, listen. I realize we all graduate this semester. Remember all those talks about the real world? It would be so great if we could do this, but it’s not going to happen.”

Blair finished his granola bar. He was chucking the wrapper when the girl’s voice went up a notch.

“Let me spell it out for you! Blaine is covered by her parent’s health insurance as long as she’s a full-time student. She’s graduating next month. She needs a real job with benefits right away, so she can’t go traipsing through the middle east with us. Call me a kill joy, but I think between staying alive and going on a three-month field trip, she ought to stick with the staying alive bit... Yeah? Have you seen the size of her pill box?”

As Blair slipped out of the room, the girl was telling Greg about insurance and preexisting conditions.

HIs last class ended at five, but he stayed in his office until six, getting some paperwork out of the way and giving students the opportunity to meet with him. By the time he had wrapped up at the office, the sun had set.

Backpack slung over his shoulder, Blair stepped out of the Anthropology building and into the cold night. Had it only been a month ago when there was daylight to spare at this hour? Sighing, he set out to his car while fumbling with the zipper on his jacket. He hadn’t walked far when someone called his name from behind him.

Blair turned and saw a young woman rushing to catch up with him. He recognized her as a past student of his, but her name eluded him until she was standing next to him, breathing heavily while she pushed stray strands of her blond hair out of her face. “Rachel, I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you doing?” It had been a while - she had been in Intro to Anthropology last year, if he remembered correctly.

“Fine, I’m doing fine. Just glad the week is over.” She flashed a smile, and he grinned back.

“TGIF, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“What classes are you taking this semester?”

Rachel launched into a brief summery of her classes - mostly business and marketing courses. She was an animated speaker, always moving her hands. One strand of her hair stubbornly fell into her eyes, and she absent-mindedly tucked it behind her ear. The gesture drew Blair’s attention to a long scar that ran from just above her ear and down her cheek, ending on the side of her chin. He was almost certain it hadn’t been there when she was in his class.

After describing her current elective of astronomy, she was done. If it were a warmer evening, Blair might have been inclined to chat longer. As it was, he could almost see his breath in the cold air so he wished her a relaxing weekend, intending to reach his car before it got any colder.

Before he could, her smile faded, her expression growing rather anxious. “You’re parked that way?” She asked, gesturing in the direction Blair had been heading.

A little thrown, Blair nodded. “Yeah. I parked on Westfield.”

“I’m on Washington. Um, normally I drive a classmate home, but she wasn’t in class today. I don’t really like walking to my car alone, so...” Even in the low illumination of the street lamps, Blair could see Rachel blush a little. “So could you come with me?”

“Of course! Just lead the way.” As they set off, Blair added, “I’t’s good you and your classmate are cautious.”

“Yeah.” The errant strand of hair had fallen loose again, and Rachel pushed it back, her fingers brushing past her scar. “It is.”

The walk to her car was quiet. Blair found himself distracted by all the shadows along their path; all the secluded areas on the campus. He had never really noticed before, and he was sure that tomorrow, in the daylight, he would forget again. The campus was a safe place for him. It was a home away from home.

But Blair couldn’t help but notice the tremor in Rachel’s voice as she thanked him before climbing into her car and driving off.

On the days when Jim and Blair went their separate ways, Blair always felt a bit off balance. It wasn’t that he minded having time apart - it was just that so much happened in their lives that twelve hours out of touch could put them anywhere at the end of the day. Maybe something had gone down at the station. Maybe an old case had been wrapped up, or maybe a new case had been opened. Maybe Jim’s senses had acted up, or maybe good old fashioned stress had done it’s job. God knew that Cascade wasn’t America’s safest city, and Jim was right there at the front, dealing with humanity’s worst. Although Jim was the closest friend Blair had had in a long time, and he wouldn't trade their friendship for anything, it wasn’t always fun to have his own life so inescapably tied up in the roller coaster life of a hot-tempered cop.

By the time Blair reached the loft door, he felt tension like a tight coil throughout his body. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like anything bad had happened to him today. All he knew was that he hoped everything would be smooth here at home. No arguments, no Sentinel 911’s, no house rules. In fact, the best case scenario involved him going straight to bed.

It seemed like he’d get that, too. The loft was dark and silent as Blair stepped inside and locked the door behind him.

He shrugged off his backpack and left it where it fell. The light on the answering machine was blinking. Blair pressed ‘play’ and let himself collapse on the couch as Jim’s voice filled the loft.

“Hey Chief, I’m going to be coming back late tonight. We tracked down a witness for the drive-by last night - don’t worry, I can handle this one solo.” There was a pause, but right when Blair thought the message was over, Jim continued.

“Look, you seemed down this morning. I hope you’re doing better. I’m sure by now you’ve turned on the lights, and you’re probably wondering. I normally don’t put them up this early, but the rain has been driving me crazy too.

“I figure there’s a reason people feel compelled to string little colored bulbs all over the damn place in the winter instead of the summer. I hope you don’t mind. Don’t wait up.”

For a moment Blair sat still. Curiosity warred with exhaustion, and as always curiosity won. Blair stood up and walked to the light switch.

He had squinted in anticipation of the sudden change from dark to light, but instead all he got was a soft glow. Multicolored Christmas lights lined the balcony doors and wound around the railing next to the stairs. One long strand followed the line between the ceiling and the walls across the whole lower section of the loft.

It was strange how different the apartment looked in the muted, colorful light. They lent an ethereal feeling to the space, pleasant and peaceful.

Blair smiled to himself as he laid back down on the couch. He was a million miles removed from the everyday tragedy he couldn’t help but see. And instead of thoughts of the dark winter ahead, he fell asleep contemplating the culture-spanning use of lights in winter celebrations.