Word Count:
7,353
Rating:
PG.
Category:
AU. Angst.
Story Status:
Complete
Summary:
A fourteen year old
runaway boy in need of help...
Thanks: Thank you to pattrose for the cover art. All other artwork is by me.
AU The Kid
By Leesa Perrie and Jayne
Perry
Cover art by pattrose
Chapter
One - Runaway
He was young, small for his age, and thin. Not to mention
scruffy
and dirty. It was obvious that he was neglected, maybe even a
street kid. But no one ever saw him, as he passed through the
wilderness, slipping into towns at night, looking for food and other
things amongst the trash thrown out by those better off.
He kept away from strangers. They were dangerous.
They
could hurt him, or send him to a foster family, where he would never
fit in. He was different, and that difference had
made him
a target too many times. Too many foster homes since his
mother
had died when he was 12. Too many failures. Too
many
rejections.
His only regret was that he couldn’t go to school.
He’d loved school. Now he had to rely on
newspapers,
magazines and the occasional book, thrown into the trash.
Discarded, like himself.
He’d been alone now for months. Wandering the
country. Looking for something, but he didn’t know what.
He’d be 14 soon. He’d probably find out
about his
birthday after it had happened – dates only meaning something
in
the newspapers he found. Not old enough to be alone, he just
had
to survive until he was, and then he’d find a job and a place
to
stay. But now, he hid in the darkness at night, and the
wilderness in the day.
Things were changing though. He’d cut himself on
some glass
in one of the dumpsters he was raiding. It was a bad cut,
across
the back of his hand, and it was infected. It hurt.
And he
felt ill. And he was alone. And scared.
He needed
help, but didn’t know where to go, who to trust, if
anyone.
He’d spent too long alone, trusting and depending only on
himself
He was miles from a town. He’d wandered further
into the
wilderness than before. Looking for a remote cabin, and maybe
someone who would help him. Someone he could then slip away
from
more easily than in the towns or cities. Someone who
couldn’t hand him over to the authorities straight
away.
But so far, he’d had no luck.
It was getting colder. The rain was starting to fall
quickly. He looked for shelter, a cave or some dense bushes,
but
couldn’t see any. He slipped beneath a big tree,
hunkering
down against its bark. At least the leaves helped reduce the
amount of rain, even if they didn’t keep it all off him.
It would be dawn soon. His watch, given to him by his mother
before she’d died, the only thing he had left to remind him
of
her, still worked. He didn’t even have a photograph
of
her. Just memories. And they were fading.
Time passed. The sun started rising. The rain
slowed, and
then stopped. He moved on, looking for someone, anyone, to
help. He was feeling really sick now. He
didn’t care
if he ended up in an orphanage, or another foster home. He
could
always run away again. He just wanted to feel well
again.
To not be in pain. To not die.
But the fever was too great. He sank to the ground, tired and
drained. He didn’t remember falling
asleep….
----------------
Jim was enjoying the fresh air. It looked like it was going
to be
a glorious day once the clouds were gone. And they were
going, he
didn’t need his sentinel senses to see that.
He turned to look at Simon, who was getting his fishing gear
together. And then smiled as he saw Blair exit the tent,
searching out and finding the coffee that had just been brewed on the
camp fire.
“Morning, sleepy head,” he greeted him, with a
smile.
“Mmmph,” was his only reply. He chuckled,
as did Simon.
“Guess he’s not a morning person then,
Jim?”
“You guess right.”
“You try being a morning person after a late
night,” came the mumbled reply.
“Shouldn’t have stayed up half the night reading
your
book. Can’t be good for you, to read by torchlight
for so
long.”
“Yeah, well, Jim, some of us have a lesson to take when we
get
back, and not enough time to read the required chapters before being
dragged away on a camping trip.”
“Dragged? You weren’t dragged anywhere,
Sandburg. This whole trip was your idea.” Simon
pointed
out, and was greeted with under the breath muttering.
Jim laughed.
“What?” Simon asked. “What did
he say?”
“You don’t want to know, Simon. Trust me
on that.”
“Fine,” Simon narrowed his eyes. “But as
soon we get
back to work, I’m gonna give you the most boring case
going.”
Jim just laughed again, not worried by Simon’s comment.
“Well, I’m going down to the river to catch
dinner. What are you two up to today?”
“I thought we might hike the east trail for a bit.
What do you say, Chief?”
“Mm. Okay. Just let me get some
breakfast, and more coffee, first.”
“No problem, Chief. There’s no
rush.”
----------------
He awoke slowly. He felt hot and drained. His hand
was
throbbing painfully. His arms and legs were aching. So
thirsty. He opened his eyes, but the world was
spinning. He
tried to move his head, but it felt too heavy to shift. He
groaned, and winced at the loudness of his voice.
He could hear people talking. Two voices.
Men. They
were getting closer. He had to move. Get
away. No,
no, not get away. Maybe they would help him. He
tried to
move, but only succeeded in making himself groan again. Then
his
stomach emptied. He managed to turn onto his side.
He
didn’t want to choke. He heaved again.
Then darkness
descended once more.
----------------
“You hear that, Chief?” asked Jim. Blair
rolled his eyes.
“Noooo. What is it?”
“I thought I heard a groan. Yes, there it is
again.
And retching. Come on, Sandburg, sounds like someone needs
help.” Jim strode off in the direction of the noise, not
waiting
to see if Blair was following him.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Can you tell
where the sounds came from?”
“Yeah, over here. The noises have stopped now
though,” he said with a frown.
“See if you can hear a heartbeat. Filter out
everything else,” suggested Blair
“Okay.” He concentrated hard.
“There.
Over there,” he said, moving to his right, and nearly falling
over the kid in his haste.
“Oh man, he looks really ill.”
“Yeah, Chief, he does. You got any water
left? I need to clean the vomit off.”
“Yeah, I’ll clean him up, you start checking him
for injuries,” he offered.
“Good idea.”
Whilst Blair was cleaning the kid up, he still kept an eye on Jim.
Trying to gage from Jim’s intense concentration how bad the
injuries were.
Slowly Jim leaned back. Blair could see the muscle on his jaw
pulsating.
“His left hand has a deep cut that will need to be
cleaned.
I can still see some fragments of glass in there.
Let’s get
him back to camp so I can make sure we get it all out.”
“Shouldn’t we take him to a hospital and get them
to do that?”
Jim glared at him.
“Okay, sentinel sight, gotchya.”
Very gently Jim picked the boy up. As he did so, a whimper
escaped the child’s lips and his eyes fluttered open.
“It’s okay. We’re here to help.
What’s your name?”
“Den...Billy, Billy Smith.”
Letting the obvious lie go, Jim carried on walking back to camp.
Blair had gone ahead of them and had a blanket next to the dying
breakfast fire.
Carefully Jim laid the kid down.
“Sandburg, get me the tweezers. Okay, Billy,
we’re
going to take the glass out that is still in your hand. It’s
gonna hurt, but I’ve got to make sure we get all of it
out.”
----------------
Pain. Burning pain. It encompassed his whole
world.
He groaned, whimpered and screamed at them to stop, but there was only
pain. He tried to pull his hand away, but it was held tightly. Then the
pain lessened, and he became aware of something being wrapped around
his hand. Someone wiping the sweat from him, talking calmly,
reassuring him, gentling him. The pain was still there,
burning
brightly, though the agony was less than it had
been. He
opened his eyes, but the light hurt too much, so he closed them
again. Vaguely, he became aware of someone asking how he felt.
----------------
“My hand, it feels on fire,” he groaned.
“Blair, get the Tylenol. Then we have to phone your folks and
arrange to meet them at the hospital.”
Jim found that he had been unconsciously monitoring the boy and at the
mention of his folks his heart rate had shot up.
“No, no hospital. It’ll be
fine.”
“It’s a deep cut, it needs cleaning
properly. Your hand is infected and that means
antibiotics.”
Looking away, Billy mumbled that he couldn’t afford a
hospital.
“Don’t worry about that right now.”
Just then, Simon appeared in a run from the direction of the river.
“I thought I heard screams. What’s going
on?”
“We found Billy here in the woods. His
hand’s pretty
badly cut. Jim’s got all the glass out now,
though.”
“Simon, help me pack up camp. We need to get him to
a
hospital but I don’t want to leave our things lying around
out
here. Blair, you look after ‘Billy’.”
Passing the Tylenol to Billy, Blair noticed that he was cradling his
arm against his chest.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how much does it hurt?”
“20,” came the rely.
“Just go with the flow. Take deep
breaths. I promise
it will help. Okay breathe in... breathe out...breathe
in...”
Slowly, Billy relaxed.
“Thanks, that helps.”
“So you want to tell me how come you’re in the
middle of nowhere with a cut hand?”
Billy glared at Blair. “None of your business.”
“My guess is that you’ve run away from
home. If
you’ve got a problem then tell me and I promise that I will
do
all that I can to help.”
The look that Billy gave him spoke of great sadness and loss.
“You won’t understand. You
can’t help.”
“Try me.”
Looking into the fire he began his story.
“Mom was killed two years ago. Drunk
driver. He got a
few years in prison, I got life. Life in orphanages, life in foster
homes. Life with strangers. She was beautiful and had this
amazing singing voice. That was how she made a living,
singing in
clubs, bars. Meant we travelled a lot, but she was always
protective. I used to argue with her about ‘giving
me my
freedom’. Now I would do anything to hear her voice, telling
me I
couldn’t go out, or that I had to be home by 8.”
As he was talking a tear trickled down his cheek.
“Foster homes can be a bitch.”
“What do you know of foster homes?” Denny demanded.
“I’ve been in a few, though luckily not for
long.
They tried to take me away from my mom a few times, so I know where
you’re coming from man.”
----------------
No you don’t, he thought to himself. This Blair guy
might
have been in foster homes, but he still had his mom. She was
still alive. And he wasn’t different. He
bet Blair
didn’t get accused of lying when he
wasn’t. Or get
beaten up by the local kids as some lying, whiny, freakish
geek.
He couldn’t possibly know. No one could.
And the
pain, when everything seemed too bright, too loud, too strong, too
smelly, too scratchy. Or the periods where time seemed to
disappear. He got in trouble for that too. The
teachers all
thought he was daydreaming. Others thought he was just plain
idle. Or too fussy, complaining that the clothes were itchy,
or
the food too spicy. Even plain scrambled eggs could taste
like
fire some days.
No one can understand his misery. No one else was an unwanted
freak like he was. Passed from place to place, labelled as a
trouble maker. Such a shame, people would say. Such
a
bright kid, but such trouble. If only he would get his act
together.
Yeah, he’d heard it all. Even when he
shouldn’t,
couldn’t, have heard anything. The whispered
comments as he
walked past, the conversations in the room downstairs, or upstairs, or
in the room next door. He knew he was unwanted. A
nuisance. Couldn’t be trusted.
So, Blair thought he knew how he felt? No way. No
way on
earth can could Blair possibly even begin to think he know how he
felt. And as soon as the social idiots got involved, and they
all
heard about his ‘problems’, they’d soon
turn away
from him. Just like all the others. No one wanted
this
lying brat. No one.
----------------
“Okay, time to go. Sandburg, why don't you get in
the front with Simon? Billy, the back seat is
yours.”
Blair gave him a questioning look, but trusted Jim to know what he was
doing.
Jim opened Simon’s car door for Billy and then closed it once
he
was in. He then went around the car and got in himself.
Jim waited until they were about a mile down the road and then turned
towards his passenger.
“Would you like to tell me your name? Your real name that
is.”
“What’s it to you? If I tell you,
you’ll only send me back.”
“You play straight with me and I’ll help.
Lie to me
again and I’ll go straight to missing persons and find out
that
way.”
“Why would you help me?”
For a second Jim looked puzzled.
“Just trust me okay. What did your foster parents
do to you anyway?”
“June was okay to me. But it was David.
He used to hit me. He was a real…”
“I get the picture. Give me your real name and I
promise you that you won't have to go back there again.”
“How do I know that the next foster parents won't use me as a
punch bag? Or accuse me of stuff that I didn't do?
No thank
you. Once I’ve been to the hospital
that’s it.
I’m gone. I’ve looked after myself
before. I
can do it again. I don’t need no help.”
“Like I said, trust me. We’ll go to the
hospital and
then you can come and stay with Blair and me for a while.
We’ll see what happens after that.”
Billy was quiet for the next few minutes trying to work out the best
thing to do. He had to admit that he felt safe with
them.
The first time he had truly felt safe for a long time.
Admitting
defeat he said, “Denny. My name is Denny
Armstrong.”
“Thank you.”
The rest of the car journey was spent in small talk, mainly about the
jags. Lulled to sleep by the banter, Denny fell asleep.
----------------
Chapter Two - Sentinel
Cursing and swearing, Simon eventually found a space in the Cascade
General Hospital car park.
Gently, Jim woke Denny up and helped him out of the car.
Denny
felt hot under his sensitive touch. Together they made their way to ER,
where Jim left Denny in Blair’s care, whilst he and Simon
went to
fill in the forms. Under address, Jim put the
loft’s
address.
“Is that a good idea, Jim?” Simon asked.
“What? Putting my address down for Denny?
I know,
Simon, but I just feel the need to look out for the kid. I
don’t want him going to strangers.”
Simon sighed. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes. I can’t explain it, but I need to keep the
kid close for now.”
“Okay. I’ll ring Claudine in child
support and see if
I can arrange for the boy to stay with you, temporarily at
least.”
“Thanks, Simon.”
----------------
Denny was confused. Jim wanted him to stay at his
place? He
hoped he wasn't a perv or anything. Just because Jim was a
cop
didn’t mean he wasn’t bad like that. Yet
it sounded
more like concern than anything else. Why would this guy be
bothered with him? He could just turn him over to social
services
and walk away. That’s what he'd expected him to do.
So why…?
He felt so sick. Too sick to try and work anything
out. And
hot. Why were the lights so bright in here? And as
for the
smells…
----------------
“Hey, Denny? You okay there?” Blair
asked, but got no
reply. “Denny?” Blair looked
into the
boy’s eyes. He didn’t seem to be
there. Maybe
it was the infection, but he looked like Jim did when he
zoned.
Surely not? If the kid was a sentinel, why wasn’t
Jim
acting all territorial like with Alex. He shuddered at the
thought of the psychotic sentinel.
“Okay, Denny, you just listen to my voice now.
Follow it
back.” Even if it wasn’t a sentinel zone, maybe
using what
Jim had started calling his ‘guide voice’ might
work.
“You need to just focus in on my voice and follow it back
from
wherever you are right now.”
----------------
Sound. There was a sound. Soothing. Calm.
Reassuring.
Coaxing him back to the light. Slowly, he followed
it.
Followed it out of the blankness surrounding him. Back
to….
----------------
Denny came back with a gasp.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Blair reassured
him. “You back with me then?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Does it happen often?”
“No, I mean, not really. I just get lost in my
thoughts
sometimes, that’s all. Daydreaming, ya
know?”
Denny said defensively, scared to reveal the truth.
Blair wanted to ask more, but a nurse called Denny’s name
just
then, and took them to a cubicle, assuring them that the doctor would
be along shortly.
----------------
Jim was about to follow Blair and Denny into the cubicle when he felt
Simon touch his arm.
“You, Jim, are in for a lot of paper work,” said
Simon
softly. “Claudine says that she can clear it for
the boy to
stay with you for a short time whilst she tracks down his case worker,
contacts his foster parents, and tries to sort out why he ran
away. But, Jim, it won’t be a permanent
arrangement.”
“I could always foster him myself, or even adopt
him.”
“Get serious.”
“You don’t think I could do it?”
“With the hours you put in? He needs a stable
environment,
somewhere he can feel secure. And when you have a kid, there
are
times when you need to attend school meetings, take him to clubs. To
say nothing of making sure he has regular meals and making sure he does
his homework. I’ve been there remember, or have you
forgotten how things used to be with Daryl and me?”
“As much as I admit it, you may be right...excuse me, Simon,
I think Blair needs my help.”
Jim pushed his way through the curtain.
“It hurts...owww.”
Blair was talking quietly to Denny and slowly he calmed down.
But
Jim noticed the tear that had slipped down Denny’s face.
“How is he, Doc?”
“He’s malnourished and has an infection in the
wound on his
hand. I don’t think we need to use intravenous
antibiotics
though. We’ve cleaned, stitched and bandaged the wound and he
needs to avoid using that hand for a while. We could release him with a
prescription, if there is someone who can make sure he takes
them? He will need a check up in two days, but if his
symptoms
get worse he would need to come back immediately. Oh, and
regular
but small meals to start with.”
“I’ve been given temporary guardianship, so
he’ll be coming home with me.”
Blair looked at Jim in surprise, but said nothing. Denny
looked surprised as well, then scowled, but also kept quiet.
“Okay. Well, in that case, if you’d like
to come to
the desk we’ll sort out a prescription and fill out the
necessary
forms to release him?”
“After you,” Jim said and then turned to Blair.
“Can
you keep an eye on him, Blair? This might take a little while
to
sort out.”
“Sure, no probs.”
“Don’t I get a choice in this?” Denny
asked, after Jim and the doctor had gone.
“Well, you could always go to the local children’s
home, or
to some other temporary foster home, but I think you’d be
better
off with us for now.”
Denny scowled.
“If you really don’t want to come home with Jim and
me,
then fine. I’ll tell them, but don’t
think I’m
leaving you alone so that you can try and sneak out.”
“I suppose it doesn’t matter where I go, so I may
as well
go with you. Anyway, as soon as you get my file, you're not
gonna
want me to stay.”
“You might be surprised,” was all that Blair said.
----------------
They all piled into Simon’s car for the journey back to the
loft, this time Blair took the back seat with Denny.
They were nearly back to the loft when Blair realised that Denny had
gone as still as a statue again.
“Hey, Denny, you okay?”
There was no response, just like before, in the hospital waiting room.
“Is everything okay, Chief?” Jim asked, turning
around.
“I don’t know. Back at the hospital, in
the waiting
room, Denny, well, for want of a better word, he zoned out.
He’s seems to have done it again. Let me see if I
can talk
him back again.”
“Zoned out?” Simon queried. “As in what
Jim does?
You’re not saying he’s a sentinel, are
you?”
“Well, I don’t know. I need more
information to go on
before I’d say that. I mean, it could be some form
of mild
epilepsy, or something similar. And Jim’s not
acting like
he did last time there was a sentinel in Cascade. Just give me a few
minutes, and if he doesn’t respond, we may have to go back to
the
hospital to get him checked out.”
“Okay, Chief,” Jim replied, wincing at the still
far too fresh memories of Alex.
“Hey, Denny,” Blair started, in his guide voice.
“You
want to come back now? Just follow my voice. Focus
in my
voice, and follow it back. Nice and easy, nothing to it, is
there? Just follow my voice…”
Denny came too with a start.
“Hey, welcome back,” Blair said.
Denny looked around the car, and then down at his hands.
“I did it again, didn’t I?” he muttered.
“Yeah. Do you know what caused it?”
“No. Nothing. I was just daydreaming,
that’s all,” he said, guardedly.
“You sure? I mean, does this happen
often? It could
be some form of epilepsy, in which case we need to get you checked
out.”
“No! It’s not anything like that! Honest,
I
just…get lost in my daydreams, that’s
all.
Really. Mom…” Denny paused,
“Mom got me
checked out when I was younger. There’s nothing
wrong, not
physically. And she refused to believe it could be
psychological. It’s nothing, really. Like
the other
stuff.”
“What other stuff?” Blair asked, gently.
“You’ll find out when you get my file.
You won’t like me then.”
“Denny, if we’re going to find out anyway, why not
tell us
now? And I don’t think we’ll dislike just
because of
a few problems,” Jim said.
Denny looked out of the car window, but said nothing.
“Come on, kid. It can’t be that bad,
surely?” Jim asked in exasperation.
“Jim,” Blair warned. “Don’t
push him. If
he doesn’t want to tell us, that’s okay.”
----------------
Denny didn't believe they were going to want to help him. He
was
certain of it, especially when they saw all the stuff the others had to
say about him; all the lies, the fussing about nothing, the attention
seeking. At least if he didn’t say anything, there
was a
chance they would let him stay, at least for tonight. Then,
tomorrow, he'd just slip away from them.
He wished he hadn’t drifted off again. He knew it
was
always worse when he was sick or tired. He really hope he
didn't
start getting problems with the other stuff whilst he was with them
– the too loud or too bright or too spicy or whatever, that
sometimes happened.
If only they would like him, but he knew they
wouldn’t. He
wished he could find somewhere to stay, somewhere okay. But
that
wasn’t gonna happen until he was old enough to work and rent
someplace. It was better if he just slipped away tomorrow and
went back into the wilderness. It's not like they would miss
him,
not really.
But somewhere inside, a part of him hoped that maybe, just maybe,
things could be better this time.
----------------
Denny was silent for the rest of the journey. He was too
tired to
listen to the murmured conversation as they reached the loft, and
guessed he probably wouldn't like it.
“Are you sure you don’t want the kid to stay with
me? He can have Darryl’s room.”
“No. He’ll be fine at the loft. Besides,
I want him somewhere I can keep an eye on him.”
“Okay. I’ll pick up his file from child
support
tomorrow and bring it by the loft. But remember, you only have one day
of leave left to sort out what you’re going to do.”
“I know.”
Jim and Blair got their camping gear out of the car as Denny stood
sleepily watching them.
“See you tomorrow, Simon. Night,” Jim said.
“Night, Simon,” Blair echoed.
“Night, Jim, Blair.”
Simon drove off, heading for home.
“Home sweet home,” sighed Blair.
“Blair, you take Denny up and I’ll follow with the
gear.”
“Sure, Jim.”
Blair was silently thankful that the elevator was working. At the top
floor he ushered Denny out and directed him to the loft door.
Denny was amazed at the amount of junk Blair pulled out of his pockets,
just to locate a door key. With a smile, he unlocked the
door,
opened it and gestured for Denny to go first.
“Take a seat on the sofa and I’ll make you a nice
herbal tea.”
“Er, thanks. I think. Can I use the bathroom?”
“Sure, it’s over there.”
Once in the bathroom, Denny slid to the floor, his feelings and
emotions running riot. The loft had felt peaceful, and he
felt
the barriers he had put up slowly sliding down.
“Don’t get comfortable, they’ll chuck you
out like
all the rest,” kept repeating through his head, but a part of
him
had felt almost like he had come home, except home had never looked
like this.
“Where’s Denny?” Jim quietly
asked Blair
“In the bathroom.”
Blair watched as Jim listened in the bathroom’s direction.
“He’s crying.”
“Should I go in there?”
“No. Let’s give him a few minutes. Then put some
soup on and I’ll call him.”
----------------
“Hey, Denny,” Jim called through the bathroom door
ten
minutes later. “Blair’s putting some soup on.
It’ll
be ready in a minute or two.”
Denny lifted his head up, and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Okay, I’ll be out soon,” he called
softly, wincing
at the rawness of his voice. He sighed, and washed his face
and
hands, hoping that they wouldn’t realise he’d been
crying.
When he came out, no one mentioned that he looked like he’d
been
crying, so he hoped he’d got away with it.
The meal was a subdued affair, with Blair doing most of the talking,
mainly about some tribe he’d visited
once. Denny was
surprised at how interesting he found it.
After the meal, he started to yawn, figuring that if they thought he
was tired, they’d let him sleep and leave him
alone. And he
really wanted to be alone right now. He didn’t want
to get
attached to them, and he could feel himself doing just that.
Sure, they were nice and kind, but he knew it was just temporary, and
that they’d ditch him pretty quickly. After all,
that was
what everyone else had been doing, wasn’t it?
“Poor
kid,” they’d say, but it didn’t take long
before they
couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
After a brief discussion, where Blair insisted that Denny slept in his
bed whilst he slept on the couch, he was able to escape to
Blair’s room. But he couldn’t sleep, no
matter how
hard he tried, he was unable to find the sleep his body craved.
----------------
Chapter Three - Not a Freak
After Denny had gone to his room, Jim went onto the balcony, and Blair
joined him a few minutes later with a couple of bottles of beer, one of
which he handed to Jim.
“You realise he it’s possible he could be a
sentinel, don’t you?”
“I have my suspicions,” Jim replied softly, not
wanting to
disturb Denny, especially if they were correct about his abilities.
“But if he is, why do I feel like I need to protect him,
rather
than react to him the way I did to Alex?”
“It could be because he’s a kid, and she
wasn’t. I mean, in tribal times, how did they cope
if a
sentinel was born whilst they had a sentinel already protecting the
tribe? Did they have to send the child away? And if
so,
would the child want to return and take over when the older sentinel
died? It would make more sense for the child sentinel to be
taught by the adult one. In which case, the adult
couldn’t
feel territorial towards the child, or it wouldn’t
work.
Though it could be as simple as being able to sense that he
isn’t
a threat to your tribe or yourself, and sensing that Alex
was.
There’s no way of knowing without further research with more
sentinels, and that isn’t very likely.”
Jim grimaced.
“I don’t think I want to find out for sure if it
involves
anymore fiascos like Alex,” he sighed.
“I’m still
trying to come to terms with how I reacted.”
“I know. It’s okay, Jim,
really. We were both
to blame, in different ways. We’ve already talked
this
through.”
“Yeah,” he sighed again.
“Sorry. So, how do we know for sure if Denny is a
sentinel or not?”
“I can run some tests on him.”
”Can you do it subtly, without resorting to sour
milk?” Jim
smiled, easing the tension that Alex’s name had caused.
Blair groaned.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t wait for me
to finish on the phone.”
“But it is your fault the sour milk was in a mug and not down
the
drain,” he retorted, with a glint of humour in his eyes.
Rapidly changing the subject, Blair asked, “So what do we do
if he is a sentinel?”
“What’s a sentinel?” came a voice from
behind them.
Jim and Blair turned around, startled at Denny’s voice.
“I had trouble sleeping and I heard you talking,”
Denny continued. “So what is a sentinel, then?”
“Honesty is the best policy?” Blair asked, glancing
at Jim.
Jim grimaced and returned his gaze to Denny.
“It’s a long story, it would be better to leave it
until
the morning, when we’ve all had a chance to rest.”
“No, I want to know now,” Denny said stubbornly.
“I
want to know if I am one of these sentinels and if I am, what that
means.”
“Jim, I think it would be best to tell him about the sentinel
theory. If he is one, he needs to know.”
Jim paused for a moment, and then nodded. Blair smiled
reassuringly and turned back to Denny.
“Okay, take a seat,” Blair pointed towards the
living room.
As Denny and Jim sat down, Blair went into his room for his Sentinels
of Paraguay book.
“Chief,” Jim said. “Try not to blind him
with anthropological babble, or compare him to...”
“I won’t,” Blair interrupted, rolling his
eyes, and opening the book.
Jim listened as Blair explained to Denny about enhanced senses and how
they related to the pictures of sentinels in the book. He
carefully avoided mentioning Jim’s abilities.
As Blair was explaining to Denny, Jim noticed how Denny was slowly
relaxing, as if things were becoming clear to him.
“So I’m not mad, then?”
“Why do you think you’re mad?” asked
Blair gently.
“Growing up, I could hear things that I
shouldn’t.
Like the kid across the street being beaten up by his dad, but my
foster mum thought I was making things up, to get attention she said,
but I wasn’t! They all think I'm a liar 'cos I see
or hear
things that it’s not possible for me to see or
hear. And I
get lost sometimes, and lose minutes or hours. They all think
I’m lazy or a daydreamer or something. And that
I’m
being difficult when my clothes itch or food tastes odd, even when it
hasn’t before. So, I figured I must be going mad,
or
something like that. All of my foster parents think I’m
deranged,
or strange, or just a trouble maker, so they didn’t want
anything
to do with me. The last foster dad thought I just needed a
firm
hand, and used to hit me often.”
“No, you’re not mad,” Blair replied
gently. “They just didn’t understand.”
“And we should report the foster dad who hit you,”
Jim said.
“No one believed me when I did. Said I was just
making it up, like all the rest of it.”
“They’ll believe me, I’ll make sure of
it,” Jim said, his eyes flashing angrily.
“No!” Denny cried out in alarm.
“They’ll make
me go back. He’ll hit me again, and say that
I’m
telling lies. I’m not going back! No way!
I’ll
run away again, where no one will find me, not even you!”
“No one will make you go back,” Blair reassured
him,
resting his hand on Denny’s arm. “We'll make sure
of
that.”
“No! I don’t...can’t trust
you. Can’t trust anyone but myself.”
“I can guarantee that you can trust us,” Blair
looked at
Jim. “Especially Jim. He won’t let anyone
send you
where you don’t want to go.”
“How do I know you’re not like all the rest? Why
would you
want to help me, anyway? I’m some sort of freak,
aren’t I? Or do you want to study me, like
a...a...a lab
rat, or something?” Denny got up, heading towards the door.
Jim sprang up, placing himself between Denny and the door. He
placed his hand securely onto Denny’s shoulders, and looked
him
straight in the eyes.
“Because I’m a sentinel, and I want to help you.
Besides,
Sandburg’s got me to experiment on.” Jim smiled,
trying to
reassure him.
Blair looked surprised that Jim had told Denny his
‘secret’, but pleased as it saved him from trying
to
convince Jim himself.
“You’re a sentinel too?” Denny asked,
stunned.
“Yes. That’s why I can understand what
you’re going
through. Where you are now, I was there once. Maybe not the
same
circumstances exactly, but my old man thought I was a freak. Look, just
give us a chance, okay? Get a good night’s sleep,
and
we’ll start sorting things out in the morning.”
Denny looked thoughtful, and then sighed.
“Okay. I’ll hang around, see what you can
do, but at
the first sign of you trying to send me back, or somewhere I
don’t wanna go, I’m gone. I’ve
done it before,
I’ll do it again.”
“We promise,” Jim said, and Blair nodded in
agreement.
Jim gently turned Denny around and walked him back to Blair’s
room.
“See you in the morning. And don’t worry,
we’ll see that everything gets sorted out for you.”
Denny nodded, and climbed back into bed. Jim returned to
Blair in the living room.
“We’d better go to sleep ourselves. I
think
it’s going to be a long day tomorrow. I’m going to
have to
sort things out with Claudine in child support and you’ll
need to
stay with Denny, and help him with his senses.”
“Okay, Jim. I’m glad you told him, you know, about
your
senses. It’ll make things easier in the long
run.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
----------------
Denny woke to the smell of bacon, momentarily disorientated about where
he was. Then he remembered. He couldn’t
believe he
had the answer to his problems. He was a sentinel, a person
with
enhanced senses. It sounded like some kind of sci-fi film,
but it
was true. And maybe, just maybe, Jim and Blair would keep
their
promise and help him. He could only hope that they would, but
he’d have to be ready in case they didn’t.
The smell of bacon made his stomach growl, and he blearily made his way
out of the bedroom.
“Morning,” said Blair, cheerily.
“Where’s Jim?” asked Denny.
“He’s out seeing what arrangements we can make for
you.
He’ll be back in a short while. Do you want some bacon and
eggs
for breakfast? I already ate with Jim.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.” He felt sure they were
going to
send him away and just didn’t want to tell him yet.
He
wanted this time in the Loft to last forever.
“And maybe after breakfast we could do a few tests?
Just to
see how strong your senses are, and help you to avoid zone outs
–
that’s what I call it when you get lost in your
senses. I
promise I won’t turn you into a lab rat, but if I
don’t
know how strong your senses are or how much you have worked out
yourself, then I can’t work out how to help you.”
“Okay, I guess I need to learn about this stuff.”
Blair smiled, and turned to make Denny his breakfast.
----------------
“I need a break!”
“Just one more test, and we’ll stop for
lunch,” Blair pleaded.
“No! I’ve had enough, my head is buzzing,
and
I’m starving. And you promised not to turn me into
some
kind of lab rat!”
“Okay, okay, sorry. I get the message.”
Going over to
the kitchen, Blair opened the cupboard door. “I think the
bread
is doing a nice line in penicillin.” Blair looked at Denny.
“I think we need to visit the store.”
Denny groaned.
“I hate shopping. Can’t I just stay
here?”
Before Blair could reply, there was a knock at the door.
“Hi, Joel. Come on in. What brings you around
here?”
“I saw Simon today and he told me you were back.
Actually I
was looking for Jim, I have some paperwork he forgot to sign before he
skipped off last week, and I really need it signed as soon as
possible.”
“Typical! Anything to avoid paperwork,”
Blair smiled.
Joel laughed.
“Jim’s had to pop out, he shouldn’t be
too much
longer, so in the meantime could you do me a big favour?”
“I suppose that depends on what it is,” Joel said.
Blair beamed at Joel.
“Joel, I would like you to meet Denny. Denny, this
is Joel,
who Jim works with. He will stay with you whilst I just nip
out
to the store, won’t you, Joel?”
Before either could reply, Blair was gone.
Joel smiled tentatively at Denny.
----------------
Blair spotted Jim’s truck parking up near the Loft over the
top of the grocery bags.
“Hey, Jim, perfect timing, man! Can you give me a
hand?”
Jim frowned.
“Where’s the kid?”
“Hey, he’s okay. Joel popped round to get
your
signature on some paperwork and volunteered to look after Denny so I
could get some food.”
“Okay. We need to talk. Let’s put the
food in the truck and grab a coffee around the corner.”
“Sure, man. What’s wrong?”
----------------
As they sat down at the booth with their coffees, Blair looked at Jim.
“Okay, Jim, talk.”
“I spent all morning at social. We have 48 hours
and then he goes back in the system.”
There was a silence as they both thought of the consequences of Denny
going back into the system; that Denny would only run away again.
Jim had seen too many kids living on the street, and what could happen
to them, to let it happen to Denny. Blair had memories of a
friend who had lived for a short while on the streets in Canada as a
kid, and how bad things had gotten for him.
“What options have we got, then? We can’t
let him go
to just anyone. Whoever fosters him needs to know about the
sentinel senses, and he needs us to help him, which means they will
need to know about you.”
Jim paused.
“I need to think about that,” he sighed.
“Let’s
go back to the loft, get something to eat, and we can discuss this more
later,” he suggested.
“Okay, let’s hope Denny hasn’t run out on
Joel yet.”
----------------
On the way back they stopped at the truck to get the groceries out.
“Well, is there any shouting or the sound of things being
thrown
from the loft?” Blair enquired looking at his
friend.
There was a look of intense concentration from Jim. Just when
Blair was starting to worry that Jim was zoning out, Jim smiled.
“They’re getting on fine. Joel is telling
Denny about the practical joke Cindy pulled last week.”
“Cindy?”
“Yeah, you know Cindy, the kid Joel and his wife is looking
after
for a couple of months for social, whilst her Mom is in
rehab.”
Blair slowly started to smile.
“You know how Joel and his wife tend to take short term kids,
do
you think we could possibly persuade him to take a long term
one?”
Jim looked doubtful.
“He would be perfect, Jim; constant contact, no problem with
visitation rights. If there is anyone we can trust to tell
your
secret to it’s Joel.”
“What about his wife, Constance?”
“Is that a serious question? Even she didn’t tell
Simon about the PD picnic when you...”
“Okay, okay. I get the picture. Let’s go
discuss it with Joel and see what he’s got to say.”
----------------
Blair and Jim sat outside Joel’s house, the engine idling.
“You know he’s going to be okay now.”
“I know. I can hear him laughing with
Cindy.”
“That’s good. Er, Jim, I’ve been
thinking.”
“Uh oh!”
Blair playfully swatted Jim on the shoulder, causing Jim to put on a
pained expression.
“No, seriously. Denny and you have become very
important to
me. Like a family. And I’ve been thinking about
what would
happen if my diss got released to the public. I mean, even
taking
your name out won’t be enough. If Brackett could
work it
out, then others would be able to. So, I’ve been
talking to
my dissertation committee, and they have agreed to let me change
topic. I’m going to write that paper about police
society
that we’ve been using as an excuse for me to observe
you.”
“Are you sure about this, Chief?”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about it for a
while.
I’ll still keep my notes, and make more notes, and do
tests.” Jim groaned this, but Blair ignored him an carried
on,
“For our own use, and to help Denny and whoever his guide
will
be.”
“Okay. If you’re sure about
this. Though
I’m surprised the committee let you change topic so late
on.”
“I think most of them were relieved, to be honest.
They’ve been wanting me to do something more mainstream for a
while, but it will mean spending an extra year at the U, and, of
course, observing you for another year. Do you think you
could
cope with that?” he smiled.
“So how will it be different from the last three
years?”
Blair grinned.
“And now I have the chance to watch a new sentinel grow, and
how
he finds his guide, not to mention the interaction between the two of
them...”
Jim smiled to himself as he once more listened to Denny and
Cindy. He had a feeling Denny might just have found his
guide,
but he wasn’t going to tell Sandburg that.
He’d let
him work it out for himself. It would be more fun that way.
The End
Author's Notes: It
is AU as 'Murder 101' and all other episodes after that do not occur.
