Word Count:
391
Rating:
PG.
Category: Angst.
Story Status:
Complete
Summary: After
Sentinel, Too part 2. Blair's POV.
Beta: Thank
you to Jayne Perry for the beta-reading.
Thoughts on the Plane Home
By Leesa Perrie
Who am I now? A student, a police observer, an
anthropologist; a
wannabe hippie, a flower-child, a new age weirdo, a health conscious
nut; a friend, a pain in the neck, a partner, a guide, a walking
encyclopaedia; a help, a nuisance, a hindrance, an energizer bunny; an
intelligent person, an open mind, a researcher, a dreamer, a
naïve
child, a grown man, a womaniser or table leg; a sensitive guy, a carer,
an idiot, an adrenalin junkie, a spineless goober, a betrayer; a
medicine man, witchdoctor punk……a shaman?
A shaman? Oh boy, what is that? Why, Incacha, why?
Did you
know what you were doing? Stupid, of course you knew. But I
still
don’t get it – why me? I’ve
read about
shamanism, read even more in the months after your death, read
everything I can find on it, so I guess I know all about it,
don’t I? So why do I feel like I know
nothing? What
am I missing? And who can teach me what isn’t in
the books
or on the net? And does Jim need a shaman? Does
Cascade? It
needs a watchman, a Sentinel, and a Sentinel needs a guide –
and
a shaman? Maybe. But me?
Even now, months later, it scares the crap out of me. And I
know
that I have failed – I must have done. Jim
didn’t
trust me, need me, and I didn’t try to find out what was
wrong,
until it was too late. You guided him when he needed a
shaman,
Incacha. It should have been me. Why? Was
I found
lacking? Of course I was. But how do I do
better? How
can I avoid these mistakes?
Where do I go? Home? Where is home? With Jim? Where
else
would I go? After all the mess, the pain, the
anger….I
think, I hope, that he still needs me. But can I do it? Can I
be
what he needs? And what about me; my wants, my
needs? Where
is this leading us?
And why am I thinking so much? Perhaps I need to stop thinking and just
do. But how do I do what I need to do, when I don’t
know
what I need to do? And so the circle starts again, and I
still
don’t know the answers. Maybe I never will.
Who am I now?