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Blair wondered the loft. He was upset. He had the right to be upset. Everything he worked for was gone. Who he was to everyone was gone.

He couldn't call anyone he knew from the university, they all thought he was a fraud, because he told everyone that. He couldn't call anyone at the PD, they probably thought he was a fraud to, but they were Jim's friends, not his. He couldn't call his mom, she took off saying she "had to process this" when they got back from the PD after the offer was made. And he surely couldn't talk to Jim for he was part of all this mess.

He was frustrated. What happened? How did this all come apart?

He spent over four years, keeping up the best he could to help Jim. He lived in the crackerjack bedroom and put up with Jim's moodiness. All he ever got from Jim was "where's dinner?" and "don't use all the hot water."

How could he be so daft?

Starting to pace the floor, Blair started talking out loud, trying to get it out of his system.

"I tried. I really tried. Mom was right, if I stay in a place long enough, things happen. I should have moved on a long time ago."

He looked around the apartment. He loved it here though. "Damn, I didn't want to move. I don't want to move. This is home," he said is sad despair. He turned and moved to the bookcase that held mementos. Looking over the different artifacts and pictures, he turned again to shut off the thoughts.

"Damn you Ellison," he said. "I put up with crap from you. I did my best to abide by all your damn rules. And still I had to prove to you. Prove to you that I was your friend, every single god damn day."

The tension was building again in him. Turning he found his empty mug on the table and picked it up. Instead of taking it to the sink, like a good rule follower, he hurled it towards the brick wall where it broke into several pieces.

It was followed by a few other ceramic ware items.

After relieving himself of the tangible anger, he sank to his knees and started crying. He felt lost.

Blair felt arms around him, pulling him up. He moved without thinking about it and soon found himself cocooned in warm body. He didn't question it, he was still crying. He didn't know what else to do.

The warm body steered him to the couch and sat down still holding him.

The warm voice finally seeped into his consciousness. It was Jim, murmuring, that he hadn't lost it all that they'll figure something out for him.

To tired to think anymore, Blair shifted a bit and closed his eyes one last time before falling asleep with the one person he did trust against all that he had said he still loved him.

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