Back at the loft he found his partner enjoying his coffee. Blair took one look at the older man, and cringed. "Jim?"

"Just visited my Dad."

"I take it the visit didn't go well, man."

"Understatement of the year. What would you say to a trip to Charleston, South Carolina?"

"You found her?"

Jim nodded, his eyes tight on his coffee mug. "Would you come with me…please?"

Blair reached over to lift up the iron jaw, and smiled warmly. "Wouldn't miss it."

Part V

Four days later, they settled in at a nice hotel in the old part of Charleston. Jim was restless and uncommunicative – had been ever since he'd located his mother. Blair pulled out a map from the hotel's directory, and suggested he take a run. That brought him a smile.

Jim ran through the old city, not really taking in the beautiful homes and amazing gardens. He stopped at the Battery long enough to look out to the sea, and then headed for the neighborhood where his mother lived. He ran by the place – a lovely old home on a tree lined street, set back beyond a lovely garden. Then he headed back to the hotel.

"So, did you see the house?" Blair asked casually from the desk where he was working on his computer.

"Am I that predictable?" Jim asked with an embarrassed shrug.

"Only to me, big guy, only to me."

The next day, at noon, he pulled the rental car up in front of the house, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He steeled himself for battle and forced himself to walk up the front steps. The door was opened, before he could ring, by an older woman with long white hair done up in a braid around her head.

"James?" she whispered, blue eyes meeting his.

"Jim Ellison," he said woodenly, sticking out his right hand, unable to take his eyes off the face in front of him. She grabbed his hand gently around the wrist, and led him into the house.

She settled him on a sofa in a comfortable parlor looking over the back garden. She took a chair beside him. "I apologize for bothering you," he began softly.

"James, I am glad you called," she said with a gentle smile. "Let me get us something to drink, and then we'll talk."

He sat stunned on the couch, a thousand questions running through his head, all the while he tracked her heartbeat – something he only ever did with Blair. She returned with a tray of ice tea and finger sandwiches, and settled herself back in her chair.

"I imagine you must have a thousand questions. I know I do," she said with a small laugh. "Would you like to start, or shall I?"

"Why did you leave me?" The question startled Jim, when he realized he'd asked it. He immediately looked down at his hands in his lap.

"James, look at me, please." The head came up and the handsome face turned toward the voice. "I am so very sorry, for everything. I was young and made some very foolish decisions, but that, as they say, is history."

Jim stood up abruptly. "I'm sorry, this wasn't a good idea." But she stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"It is a very good idea. Just a couple of decades too late. Please sit down." She waited until he obeyed, and then she continued. "I was madly in love with your father, and having you and Stephen made my life complete. Then your father started working late, or that's what he called it. Turned out he was having an affair with his secretary. I found out, and called him on it, and he begged my forgiveness. We went on for a while, and things were fine. Then it started again, and I decided two could play at that game. You're father never thought the rules applied to him, so when he found out I was being unfaithful, he kicked me out and told me that if I ever came near you boys or the house again, he'd have me arrested, and there would be no alimony. So I left."

"You, you just walked out on us. Stevie cried for a month…I." Jim was up off the couch and pacing, his anger and bewilderment too much to allow him to be still. "I thought you loved us."

"I did, James. I still do, funny as that sounds. But your father was a powerful man, and a bitter divorce – where he held all the cards – would have made it worse for you boys. It was bad enough to have your mother disappear, what if she'd been labeled an unfit mother to the entire City?"

"You didn't fight for your children." He said hoarsely, half statement, half question.

"No, I did not."

"And you didn't try to find us once – not even when we left home?"

"I didn't think you needed me to complicate your lives."

"Thank you," he said, his back to where she sat, "that is all I needed to know." And then he was out the door and in the car, before she could stop him.

He returned to the hotel by necessity, as he knew of nowhere else to go. When he entered the room, Blair took one look and moved to hold him, pulling him down on the small couch. Jim began to shake, and buried his head on Blair's chest. The tears dampened both shirts, but the older man never emitted a sound. "Oh Jim, I'm so sorry," Blair murmured, "so very sorry."

He led the exhausted man to one of the beds, once the shaking stopped and tucked him in gently. "Just rest for a little bit, okay. Then we'll talk, just rest now." He turned on the white noise generator and helped him on with his sleep mask, before returning to the desk and his computer. "You bitch," he seethed, "I hope you burn in hell right along side William Ellison."

When Jim woke, it was just becoming dark, and Blair was reading on the other bed. "Chief?"

"Hey big guy," he responded fondly, before getting up and moving to sit on Jim's bed. "How you feeling?"

"Tired."

"How bout dinner, and then we'll call it a night."

"Not really hungry."

"I know, but you haven't eaten anything in almost three days. I made a reservation downstairs in the restaurant – you have time to shower."

Jim toyed with his soup, but settled down some by the time his main course arrived. Blair was telling a story about one of his students when he realized Jim was focused on the front of the room. "What's wrong?" He asked quietly, a hand on Jim's wrist.

"That man at the desk is asking about us." Jim was intent on the conversation, and tensed when the maitre'd led the man to their table.

"Mr. Ellison, Mr. Sandburg, I apologize for interrupting your dinner."

"What can we do for you Mr.?" Blair asked.

"Mr. Roberts, Ben Roberts." Jim growled, and only Blair's hand on his arm kept him at the table. "I'm sorry," Roberts said again, sliding into the vacant chair, "but my wife is very upset about your meeting today, worried you have the wrong impression about what happened."

"They both cheated, he called her on it. Said alimony would go out the window if she contested the divorce, so she left. And never felt enough for me or Stevie to try and contact us – even after we left home." The devastated eight year old that still lived deep inside James Ellison said the words softly, with no emotion. The blue eyes, however, held all the hurt and pain he lived with. "Did I forget anything?" His voice suddenly challenging.

Roberts looked to Blair for help, but none was coming from that quarter. Blair's blue eyes blazed at the man for putting his friend through this. "You didn't forget the facts, but there are a number of details that you should know, before you make a final decision about your mother."

"She is not my mother," Jim's voice was low and cold, "she is just the woman who had me."

"Please, son…"

"I am NOT your son," Jim yelled, coming out of the chair so fast he knocked it over. He swept around Blair, and was gone.

"Please, Mr. Sandburg, my wife was beside herself when I got home. She said she got it horribly wrong, and needed to talk with James again. She does not want to hurt him. She doesn't. But she needs him to understand that she was powerless against Ellison. He had the money and the power. Believe me when I tell you she has regretted not facing down William Ellison. When James called, she was so happy to think that her boy had not given up on her, and she was…."

"You don't get it do you?" Blair asked softly. "Jim was eight years old when she left him alone to take care of his brother and survive his father. Yet, he never gave up hope that his mother loved him…Why didn't she get in touch with him when he was older, after he left home? Or when he got back from Peru? His face was everywhere – he would have been easy to find.

"He wanted to know why his mother left - you're wife told him he wasn't worth fighting for. Nothing anyone has to say is going to change that fact, or the way he feels. So if you'll excuse me, I need to check on my partner." He rose to leave, but turned back. "And stay away from Jim, he doesn't deserve any more pain."

He stopped at the front desk to make sure no calls would be put through, and that their room number would not be given out, before going upstairs. Jim was on the small balcony looking out at the river. "Hey, big guy." He whispered, so as not to startle him, before slipping his arms around the trim waist.

"I called the airline and moved our flights – we can go out tomorrow at 2 pm. That alright with you?"

"Good idea. You want to pack tonight?'

"No, we'll have time tomorrow."

Blair knew Jim well enough to know he would come to him when he was ready to talk, so he let it go. He found a baseball game on TV, and they watched for a while in companionable silence before going to bed. He wasn't surprised when he woke up at 3:15 a.m. to see Jim outlined on the balcony. He slipped from his bed and joined him. "You okay, Jim?"

"Don't have a clue, Chief." The bigger man said, head down, body braced against the world.

"Do you want to…let me rephrase that, do you need to talk with her again?"

The whole body stiffened. "She told me she didn't fight for us, so there is nothing left to say. Even if she was afraid of him - his power - like she said, it doesn't explain why she didn't try to contact me after I left home…" The blue eyes searched Blair's face.

"You ready to go back to bed?" Blair wished he had an answer that would take away his friend's pain, but he was not going to try and justify the woman's actions.

"In a few. Didn't mean to wake you."

Jim was still on the balcony when Blair got up at 8 a.m. They ordered room service, and packed while they waited. A note arrived with the breakfast tray, and Jim threw it away, unread.

Blair stood with their bags off to the side while Jim was at the checkout desk. A tall, older woman with white hair came up to him. "Mr. Sandburg?"

He stiffened. "You need to leave, now. You've caused all the pain to that man you are going to. Go!" Blair's reply was soft, but his Sentinel turned – whether it was his voice or his increased heart beat he didn't know - and he felt the knot in his stomach grow when Jim caught sight of the woman.

"Ready, Chief?" He came up and took his bag, pulling Blair away from the woman in the process.

"Let's go, Jim."

"James, wait, please."

He spun around, and stalked up to the woman, invading her space. His voice was low, but the tone made his intent clear. "Let's get one thing straight, lady. You did a really good job of staying out of my life for the last 30 years, so let's just stick with the status quo for the next 30. You come near him or me again, and I'll have you up on harassment charges so fast it'll make your head spin."

Blair went to the driver's side, and slide in before Jim could protest. Once in the car, he pulled away as quickly as possible and headed for the airport. Jim sat with his eyes closed, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

They checked in and went through security without talking. In the waiting area, Jim sought a window in a quiet corner and stared into the surrounding marsh land. Blair settled into a chair nearby that afforded him a view of his Sentinel, while still allowing him to keep watch on the people entering the area.

Back in the loft, Jim unpacked before grabbing a beer and heading to the balcony. Blair took his time, wondering what he could say to help. He joined him an hour later, bringing another beer as his price of admission. Jim flashed him a brief smile, before returning his gaze to the city and the ocean beyond.

"Despite everything my dad did, and didn't, do," Jim said, interrupting the silence, "at least he stayed."

"That doesn't excuse him, Jim." Blair replied softly.

"No…and it doesn't change anything…I just didn't know it could still hurt this much, even after all these years." His head was in his hands as he finished.

"I'm so sorry it didn't turn out the way you hoped. If anyone deserved a happy ending, it's you, big guy." Jim huffed softly. "Maybe having the answers now will at least allow you to move on, beyond the hurt."

"I hope you're right, Chief. God, I hope so."