Weekly fic posting...
Sep. 3rd, 2005 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
calic0cat...for the first week of September is, as promised, "Symbiosis", my second 2005 Moonridge Auction fic. It's TS, gen, and an alternate history/universe in which events bring Jim and Blair together as children.
Title: "Symbiosis"
Author: Calic0cat <calic0cat@fastmail.fm>
Date Completed: June 16, 2005
Category: Gen
Rating: FRC (Fan Rated Suitable for Children)
Website: http://www.calic0cat.net/
Notes: An alternate history in which Sentinels and Guides are known. Events bring Jim and Blair together as children.
Author's Note: Written for the 2005 Moonridge Auction. Thanks to Sheila and T.W. for a great beta job. Any remaining errors are mine.
"The tests confirm the initial diagnosis; the panic attacks are being caused by empathic overload. Your son Blair is definitely experiencing early onset of his ability's maturity. We can try dampening drugs..." Naomi grimaced in distaste at the suggestion and the doctor hurriedly added, "Of course, meditation has proven somewhat effective in many cases as well, though your son is rather young for such techniques..."
Yes, he was. Precocious as Blair was, a four-year-old was simply too young - and too energetic - for the type of deep, prolonged meditation that would be required. "Agreed," Naomi admitted unhappily. She really didn't like the idea of subjecting Blair to dampening drugs, but continual panic attacks weren't exactly healthy either.
"The other option would obviously be to find a compatible Sentinel for him. However, as I'm sure you're aware, Ms Sandburg, most Sentinels aren't ready to bond - don't need to bond - until their abilities mature, usually sometime in their early twenties. At that point in their lives, they are looking for an equal partner, someone who can work side-by-side with them in their chosen field. Such individuals would not be interested in bonding with a child." He hesitated, then added, "Even if a willing, mature Sentinel were to be located, it is frankly unlikely that a bond would form between a pair with a wide age gap; the relationship is invariably an equal partnership."
Naomi was well aware of that fact; it was one of the reasons that she'd been willing to risk exposing her son's rather precocious development of strong empathic abilities, one of the key characteristics of a Guide.
The Sentinel-Guide bond was a fully symbiotic partnership of equals, a partnership based on trust. It could not be forced, manipulated, or coerced in any way, shape, or form. The experiments that had inevitably followed the proof and acceptance of Burton's work at the end of the last century had demonstrated that with devastating thoroughness. Every pair that had been experimented on had simply shut down and died - though usually not without taking a few experimenters with them in their efforts to protect one another and to escape. Attempts to create more malleable pairs through intensive indoctrination - Hitler had tried on a truly grand scale - had failed equally spectacularly.
Sentinel-Guide partners were protectors - period, full stop, end of story.
Individuals possessing heightened senses or empathy but lacking the protective instinct were completely unable to bond, and inevitably went slowly insane as their control gradually deteriorated following physical maturity and the subsequent maturation of their abilities. Attempts to control and use individuals with the abilities but no protective instinct invariably led to the very bloody end of those with the temerity to try, while attempts to subvert the protective instinct of Sentinel-Guide partnerships led first to dead 'controllers', and then, if escape from the situation proved impossible, to dead partners.
Nature had a brutal but very effective way of preventing the Sentinel-Guide partnership from being abused.
"You said that most Sentinels aren't ready to bond at a young age..." Naomi prompted, sensing careful deliberation in the choice of words.
"Yes," the doctor answered slowly. "Occasionally, a young Sentinel will, like your son, experience a traumatic event that triggers early onset of his or her gift's maturity. It's rare - perhaps half a dozen cases annually worldwide - and between the trauma of the triggering event, and the severity of the spikes and zones resulting from the abrupt maturation of the senses, the survival of a sane Sentinel is even rarer. Particularly since, in such cases, the Sentinel in question often is so hypersensitive that he or she will exhibit allergic reactions to the dampening drugs. As for successful bonding..." He shook his head. "The same problems exist as in your son's case. Age is a critical factor. There was one teenager a few years ago who formed a marginally stable working bond with the older sibling of a classmate, but that is the only recent success."
"Half a dozen cases worldwide. You have one in mind, don't you?" Naomi asked sharply.
"Yes. It's a slim chance - the boy has been hospitalized for several months and has been growing increasingly unresponsive. The Sentinel-Guide specialists are not prepared to give up just yet, but he is running out of time. He's severely allergic to the most effective dampening drugs, and the few that he can tolerate are losing their effectiveness. Dealing with the sensory overload is tiring, so he spends much of his time sleeping. When awake, he is still lucid, but it is becoming more and more difficult for him to focus both mind and senses."
"What happened to trigger the onset?" Considering what it had taken to send Blair's empathic abilities flaring to full adult strength - three days buried in the rubble of a remote commune's mudslide-covered daycare centre while other trapped children whimpered and cried and slowly died around him - Naomi knew that it had to have been bad.
"That is a somewhat - complicated - question to answer," the doctor sighed. "The boy's father is strongly anti-Sentinel. One of those closed-minded types who believes Sentinels and Guides are perverted freaks of nature."
Naomi's lips thinned. Living in the open, accepting environments that she preferred, it was easy to forget sometimes just how narrowminded some people could be. Valued as the abilities of a Sentinel-Guide partnership might be, many people still shunned them, convinced that they were some sort of perverted voyeurs, taking pleasure in using their skills to violate the privacy of others. Often, the close working relationship between Sentinel and Guide would eventually lead to them becoming life partners as well. Since many bonds formed between same sex pairings, that only aggravated the problem in the eyes of a certain segment of the population. Legalizing and formalizing homosexual relationships could only do so much; social change couldn't be legislated. "I see," she said flatly. "His mother?"
"His parents were divorced several years ago. The mother relinquished all rights to her children as part of the divorce settlement. Sentinel-Guide Affairs tried to contact her anyway, but discovered that she had died a few weeks prior to the discovery of the boy's condition."
Naomi winced in sympathy for the boy even as she burned with anger at his mother. No matter what the circumstances might have been, the woman should never have abandoned him like that. She would have fought tooth and nail to keep Blair with her if anyone had tried to take him.
The doctor continued, "Due to the father's beliefs, he tried to force the boy to repress his abilities. The situation came to light when the boy had the guts to go against his father; he offered evidence in a serial murder investigation. You may not recall the case... the Country Club Strangler?"
Naomi shook her head, not recognizing the reference.
"I didn't think so; it was up in Washington state, not around here.
"Anyway, the boy stumbled across one of the victims, and, from a distance that clearly required Sentinel vision, he witnessed the murderer running away. He told the police what he'd seen, and his father was..." The doctor pursed his lips and shook his head. "The man was definitely not pleased. The investigation stalled badly, so, about a month later, an officer dropped by to see if the boy had remembered anything more.
"By the end of the day, the father was up on charges of child abuse and Sentinel endangerment, and the boy was hospitalized in protective custody. The details are sealed but, whatever had happened to him, the young Sentinel was in severe sensory distress. Spikes, zones, all the symptoms of a fully mature Sentinel in immediate need of a bond. A controlled environment and medication to help regulate the spikes bought him a brief reprieve, but that time is nearly up. He needs to bond, and soon."
"How old is he?"
"Jim is eleven."
Eleven. That was still a seven year age difference. But maybe - just maybe - it would work.
Meeting the doctor's eyes squarely, Naomi told him, "Make the arrangements."
Even the slightest possibility of a natural alternative to the drugs was well worth exploring. And if this did work, more than just Blair would benefit. The young Sentinel would be given a chance at life, too.
***
Naomi drove up the coast from California, since Blair's empathy was too uncontrolled to handle the prolonged proximity to others that a plane ride would have entailed. He was still clingy and anxious whenever they passed through densely populated areas, but more isolated regions produced a subdued but recognizable version of his previous self, reassuring Naomi that empathic overload rather than the trauma itself was responsible for much of his change in personality. Bonding, and the empathic shielding that it would provide, should go a long way towards restoring Blair to the easygoing, inquisitive, talkative child that he had been before the mudslide. Time, patience, and a good counsellor would take care of the rest.
Three days after the meeting with Blair's doctor, Naomi and Blair arrived at Cascade General Hospital. The hospital reception desk immediately had the two of them escorted to the Sentinel-Guide ward to meet with the doctor in charge of Jimmy's case. Sentinels and Guides were sufficiently valued to guarantee the fullest cooperation in order to ensure the well-being of both children.
As they moved through the hospital, Blair clutched her hand tightly and she gave him a concerned look. His face was very pale and his breathing was too rapid. Not quite a panic attack yet, but very close to one. Hospitals were not pleasant places for empaths. Battered by emotions, Blair whimpered and clutched her leg with his free hand. Naomi scooped him up in her arms and picked up her pace. The sooner they reached the relative calm of the Sentinel-Guide ward, the better.
To Naomi's surprise, Blair didn't calm when the ward's heavily insulated doors swung shut behind them. Instead, he went from a tense, clingy bundle in her arms to a frantically wriggling one.
"Down!" he demanded. "Nomi, I want down!"
Uncertain what was going on, she held onto him. "In a few minutes, sweetie," she promised. "After we talk to the doctor."
"No!" Blair insisted. "Now!"
"Blair..."
"He's sleeping, 'n' he's scared! He needs to wake up!" His wiggling redoubled, and Naomi was forced to put him down before she ended up dropping him. Blair took off like a shot the instant that his feet hit the floor.
Their escort gave a startled shout as Naomi followed hurriedly, strongly suspecting that they wouldn't be waiting for the doctor to formally introduce them to the young Sentinel. Sleeping plus scared meant nightmares, and having discovered a murder victim would certainly provide ample material for those.
Her suspicion was confirmed a moment later as her fast-moving son darted past a room, then doubled back to dash into it. Naomi didn't need to read the chart hanging from the open door to confirm the room's inhabitant; "Jim" was clearly printed on a simple name card posted outside it.
Naomi felt hopeful. Blair's usual reaction to picking up on strong negative emotions was to cling tightly to her, not to run off and try to help the individual that he was sensing. He was definitely drawn to the young Sentinel; now the only question was whether or not that first faint stirring of potential would strengthen and stabilize into a functional bond. She entered the room behind Blair just in time to see him trying to scramble up and over the railing in order to get onto the bed. "Nomi! Help me up!" he demanded.
"Sweetie, we should talk to the doctor first..." she said reluctantly, holding her hand out to him. The figure in the bed was very still and pale, curled up on his side, eyes closed. Uncertain about the young Sentinel's condition, she decided that, in the absence of clear signs of distress, it would be best to speak to the doctor before waking the boy. "Come on, sweetheart."
"No. Up!"
"No, Sweetie," Naomi said softly but firmly. "Let him sleep."
"No! He's scared! Wake him up!" Blair said stubbornly. He darted away from her, clambering up and over the foot of the bed before she realized what he was up to. He scrambled up the bed to kneel in front of the sleeping boy, reaching out to pat his cheek insistently. "Wake up!"
The boy woke with a jerk that drove him backwards into the safety rails on the far side of the bed. For an instant, his face was that of a frightened child, then the expression was gone, replaced by a closed-off neutrality that made him look far too mature for his years.
"Hi," Blair offered gravely, extending one small hand. "I'm Blair."
The young Sentinel barely glanced at him, shifting his wary gaze to Naomi. She smiled softly. "I'm Naomi, Blair's mother. Go ahead, introduce yourself." He hesitated, clearly confused by the situation. "Jim, Blair's a Guide," she explained gently.
His eyes widened in disbelief, and his lips moved, soundlessly echoing "Guide?"
Naomi nodded, repeating firmly, "Blair's a Guide."
Turning his gaze back to the child kneeling next to him on the bed, hand still expectantly extended, he said softly, "Um, hi, Blair. I'm Jim."
Jim held his hand out slightly; Blair promptly seized it and pumped it up and down enthusiastically. "Hi, Jim!" he chirped cheerfully before launching into an excited babble about the long car ride, and how noisy the rest of the hospital was, and didn't Jim have a dreamcatcher to catch the scary dreams, and did Jim know it was raining outside?
Naomi giggled in sheer relief at her son's abrupt return to his pre-mudslide self. Then she giggled again at the bewildered expression on the other boy's face.
"Ms Sandburg?"
Turning in response to the inquiry, Naomi beamed brightly at the doctor who had just arrived in the room. "I guess we don't have to worry about whether they'll 'click'."
"They do seem to be getting off to a good start," he acknowledged. "I'm Dr McKay, Ms Sandburg."
"Please, call me Naomi." Cutting straight to the heart of the matter, she asked, "Doctor, how long will it take to be certain that the bond is going to stabilize?"
He observed the boys thoughtfully for several moments, then smiled slightly. "Not long. Your son is already focussing closely on Jim, and Jim's definitely responding to him. Jim hasn't been this alert in days." McKay watched them for a few more minutes before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, this looks very promising.
"Of course, since the bond is trust-based, its long-term strength and stability are virtually impossible to predict," he qualified, "but they're off to a promising start. Once Jim's senses have had a chance to settle down and focus on young Blair, the bond should stabilize fairly quickly. The less distraction around, the sooner that will happen. So, why don't we leave these two to get acquainted while we talk?" he suggested. "They'll be fine; one of the nurses can keep a discreet eye on them in case of any problems."
Naomi wasn't sure whether Blair would allow that; he'd been very clingy in the weeks since the disaster. But he was acting much more like his usual cheerful, gregarious self, and he seemed to have really taken to the young Sentinel. Raising her voice, she called, "Sweetie? I need to go talk to Dr McKay. Will you stay here with your new friend until I get back?"
Hands stilled their animated movement, and Blair quavered uncertainly, "Nomi? You leaving?"
Naomi gave the doctor a helpless look. She understood why the doctor wanted the boys to spend some time alone together, but she couldn't bear to leave Blair if he was upset. He'd always been so good about being left with someone before... Naomi knew that he would have to get over the fear of being left alone that being trapped in the mudslide had caused, but she really did think that it was too soon to force the issue.
"She'll just be down the hall," the doctor interjected smoothly. "Jim will take care of you until she gets back, won't you, Jim?"
Given such an obvious prompt, the young Sentinel responded with an obedient, "Yes, sir."
Moving over to the bed, she caressed Blair's cheek softly and prompted, "Sweetie? Will you wait here with Jim?"
Blair clutched at Naomi's hand, his breathing rapid and shallow as his gaze darted back and forth between her and the young Sentinel. Recognizing an impending panic attack, Naomi prepared to retract the suggestion. Before she could, however, another voice spoke up.
"You'll stay and keep me company for a while, won't you, Chief?" Jim asked, the merest hint of anxiety in his voice.
Fingers tightening around hers, Blair remained silent as he gave Naomi a pleading look. She ruffled his hair and prompted, "Blair?"
"Please?" Jim offered Blair a shy, hopeful smile. "It's kind of boring bein' the only kid... surrounded by grownups... nobody to talk to or play with..."
Naomi's lips twitched with the effort not to laugh as Blair's eyes went wide and his grip on her hand loosened. Obviously, Jim had some experience with young children; very few would resist an appeal for rescue from boredom. Bored and surrounded by grownups - oh, the horror of it all...
"Nobody?" Blair gasped.
Jim shook his head. "Nobody," he echoed solemnly.
Taking a deep breath, Blair heaved a big sigh, then reluctantly released Naomi's hand. "Okay. I stay," he decided bravely. Frowning at her, he ordered, "Come back soon."
"Very soon," she promised, unable to resist giving him a quick hug. "Have fun, sweetie." She dropped a tender kiss onto his tousled curls. A hastily-hidden, wistful look had her bending over and pressing a matching one on Jim's too-pale cheek as well. He didn't even have time to react before she was gone, heading for the doorway. "Be good, boys. But not too good," she called cheerily over her shoulder.
She had a feeling that things were going to work out just fine.
Title: "Symbiosis"
Author: Calic0cat <calic0cat@fastmail.fm>
Date Completed: June 16, 2005
Category: Gen
Rating: FRC (Fan Rated Suitable for Children)
Website: http://www.calic0cat.net/
Notes: An alternate history in which Sentinels and Guides are known. Events bring Jim and Blair together as children.
Author's Note: Written for the 2005 Moonridge Auction. Thanks to Sheila and T.W. for a great beta job. Any remaining errors are mine.
"The tests confirm the initial diagnosis; the panic attacks are being caused by empathic overload. Your son Blair is definitely experiencing early onset of his ability's maturity. We can try dampening drugs..." Naomi grimaced in distaste at the suggestion and the doctor hurriedly added, "Of course, meditation has proven somewhat effective in many cases as well, though your son is rather young for such techniques..."
Yes, he was. Precocious as Blair was, a four-year-old was simply too young - and too energetic - for the type of deep, prolonged meditation that would be required. "Agreed," Naomi admitted unhappily. She really didn't like the idea of subjecting Blair to dampening drugs, but continual panic attacks weren't exactly healthy either.
"The other option would obviously be to find a compatible Sentinel for him. However, as I'm sure you're aware, Ms Sandburg, most Sentinels aren't ready to bond - don't need to bond - until their abilities mature, usually sometime in their early twenties. At that point in their lives, they are looking for an equal partner, someone who can work side-by-side with them in their chosen field. Such individuals would not be interested in bonding with a child." He hesitated, then added, "Even if a willing, mature Sentinel were to be located, it is frankly unlikely that a bond would form between a pair with a wide age gap; the relationship is invariably an equal partnership."
Naomi was well aware of that fact; it was one of the reasons that she'd been willing to risk exposing her son's rather precocious development of strong empathic abilities, one of the key characteristics of a Guide.
The Sentinel-Guide bond was a fully symbiotic partnership of equals, a partnership based on trust. It could not be forced, manipulated, or coerced in any way, shape, or form. The experiments that had inevitably followed the proof and acceptance of Burton's work at the end of the last century had demonstrated that with devastating thoroughness. Every pair that had been experimented on had simply shut down and died - though usually not without taking a few experimenters with them in their efforts to protect one another and to escape. Attempts to create more malleable pairs through intensive indoctrination - Hitler had tried on a truly grand scale - had failed equally spectacularly.
Sentinel-Guide partners were protectors - period, full stop, end of story.
Individuals possessing heightened senses or empathy but lacking the protective instinct were completely unable to bond, and inevitably went slowly insane as their control gradually deteriorated following physical maturity and the subsequent maturation of their abilities. Attempts to control and use individuals with the abilities but no protective instinct invariably led to the very bloody end of those with the temerity to try, while attempts to subvert the protective instinct of Sentinel-Guide partnerships led first to dead 'controllers', and then, if escape from the situation proved impossible, to dead partners.
Nature had a brutal but very effective way of preventing the Sentinel-Guide partnership from being abused.
"You said that most Sentinels aren't ready to bond at a young age..." Naomi prompted, sensing careful deliberation in the choice of words.
"Yes," the doctor answered slowly. "Occasionally, a young Sentinel will, like your son, experience a traumatic event that triggers early onset of his or her gift's maturity. It's rare - perhaps half a dozen cases annually worldwide - and between the trauma of the triggering event, and the severity of the spikes and zones resulting from the abrupt maturation of the senses, the survival of a sane Sentinel is even rarer. Particularly since, in such cases, the Sentinel in question often is so hypersensitive that he or she will exhibit allergic reactions to the dampening drugs. As for successful bonding..." He shook his head. "The same problems exist as in your son's case. Age is a critical factor. There was one teenager a few years ago who formed a marginally stable working bond with the older sibling of a classmate, but that is the only recent success."
"Half a dozen cases worldwide. You have one in mind, don't you?" Naomi asked sharply.
"Yes. It's a slim chance - the boy has been hospitalized for several months and has been growing increasingly unresponsive. The Sentinel-Guide specialists are not prepared to give up just yet, but he is running out of time. He's severely allergic to the most effective dampening drugs, and the few that he can tolerate are losing their effectiveness. Dealing with the sensory overload is tiring, so he spends much of his time sleeping. When awake, he is still lucid, but it is becoming more and more difficult for him to focus both mind and senses."
"What happened to trigger the onset?" Considering what it had taken to send Blair's empathic abilities flaring to full adult strength - three days buried in the rubble of a remote commune's mudslide-covered daycare centre while other trapped children whimpered and cried and slowly died around him - Naomi knew that it had to have been bad.
"That is a somewhat - complicated - question to answer," the doctor sighed. "The boy's father is strongly anti-Sentinel. One of those closed-minded types who believes Sentinels and Guides are perverted freaks of nature."
Naomi's lips thinned. Living in the open, accepting environments that she preferred, it was easy to forget sometimes just how narrowminded some people could be. Valued as the abilities of a Sentinel-Guide partnership might be, many people still shunned them, convinced that they were some sort of perverted voyeurs, taking pleasure in using their skills to violate the privacy of others. Often, the close working relationship between Sentinel and Guide would eventually lead to them becoming life partners as well. Since many bonds formed between same sex pairings, that only aggravated the problem in the eyes of a certain segment of the population. Legalizing and formalizing homosexual relationships could only do so much; social change couldn't be legislated. "I see," she said flatly. "His mother?"
"His parents were divorced several years ago. The mother relinquished all rights to her children as part of the divorce settlement. Sentinel-Guide Affairs tried to contact her anyway, but discovered that she had died a few weeks prior to the discovery of the boy's condition."
Naomi winced in sympathy for the boy even as she burned with anger at his mother. No matter what the circumstances might have been, the woman should never have abandoned him like that. She would have fought tooth and nail to keep Blair with her if anyone had tried to take him.
The doctor continued, "Due to the father's beliefs, he tried to force the boy to repress his abilities. The situation came to light when the boy had the guts to go against his father; he offered evidence in a serial murder investigation. You may not recall the case... the Country Club Strangler?"
Naomi shook her head, not recognizing the reference.
"I didn't think so; it was up in Washington state, not around here.
"Anyway, the boy stumbled across one of the victims, and, from a distance that clearly required Sentinel vision, he witnessed the murderer running away. He told the police what he'd seen, and his father was..." The doctor pursed his lips and shook his head. "The man was definitely not pleased. The investigation stalled badly, so, about a month later, an officer dropped by to see if the boy had remembered anything more.
"By the end of the day, the father was up on charges of child abuse and Sentinel endangerment, and the boy was hospitalized in protective custody. The details are sealed but, whatever had happened to him, the young Sentinel was in severe sensory distress. Spikes, zones, all the symptoms of a fully mature Sentinel in immediate need of a bond. A controlled environment and medication to help regulate the spikes bought him a brief reprieve, but that time is nearly up. He needs to bond, and soon."
"How old is he?"
"Jim is eleven."
Eleven. That was still a seven year age difference. But maybe - just maybe - it would work.
Meeting the doctor's eyes squarely, Naomi told him, "Make the arrangements."
Even the slightest possibility of a natural alternative to the drugs was well worth exploring. And if this did work, more than just Blair would benefit. The young Sentinel would be given a chance at life, too.
***
Naomi drove up the coast from California, since Blair's empathy was too uncontrolled to handle the prolonged proximity to others that a plane ride would have entailed. He was still clingy and anxious whenever they passed through densely populated areas, but more isolated regions produced a subdued but recognizable version of his previous self, reassuring Naomi that empathic overload rather than the trauma itself was responsible for much of his change in personality. Bonding, and the empathic shielding that it would provide, should go a long way towards restoring Blair to the easygoing, inquisitive, talkative child that he had been before the mudslide. Time, patience, and a good counsellor would take care of the rest.
Three days after the meeting with Blair's doctor, Naomi and Blair arrived at Cascade General Hospital. The hospital reception desk immediately had the two of them escorted to the Sentinel-Guide ward to meet with the doctor in charge of Jimmy's case. Sentinels and Guides were sufficiently valued to guarantee the fullest cooperation in order to ensure the well-being of both children.
As they moved through the hospital, Blair clutched her hand tightly and she gave him a concerned look. His face was very pale and his breathing was too rapid. Not quite a panic attack yet, but very close to one. Hospitals were not pleasant places for empaths. Battered by emotions, Blair whimpered and clutched her leg with his free hand. Naomi scooped him up in her arms and picked up her pace. The sooner they reached the relative calm of the Sentinel-Guide ward, the better.
To Naomi's surprise, Blair didn't calm when the ward's heavily insulated doors swung shut behind them. Instead, he went from a tense, clingy bundle in her arms to a frantically wriggling one.
"Down!" he demanded. "Nomi, I want down!"
Uncertain what was going on, she held onto him. "In a few minutes, sweetie," she promised. "After we talk to the doctor."
"No!" Blair insisted. "Now!"
"Blair..."
"He's sleeping, 'n' he's scared! He needs to wake up!" His wiggling redoubled, and Naomi was forced to put him down before she ended up dropping him. Blair took off like a shot the instant that his feet hit the floor.
Their escort gave a startled shout as Naomi followed hurriedly, strongly suspecting that they wouldn't be waiting for the doctor to formally introduce them to the young Sentinel. Sleeping plus scared meant nightmares, and having discovered a murder victim would certainly provide ample material for those.
Her suspicion was confirmed a moment later as her fast-moving son darted past a room, then doubled back to dash into it. Naomi didn't need to read the chart hanging from the open door to confirm the room's inhabitant; "Jim" was clearly printed on a simple name card posted outside it.
Naomi felt hopeful. Blair's usual reaction to picking up on strong negative emotions was to cling tightly to her, not to run off and try to help the individual that he was sensing. He was definitely drawn to the young Sentinel; now the only question was whether or not that first faint stirring of potential would strengthen and stabilize into a functional bond. She entered the room behind Blair just in time to see him trying to scramble up and over the railing in order to get onto the bed. "Nomi! Help me up!" he demanded.
"Sweetie, we should talk to the doctor first..." she said reluctantly, holding her hand out to him. The figure in the bed was very still and pale, curled up on his side, eyes closed. Uncertain about the young Sentinel's condition, she decided that, in the absence of clear signs of distress, it would be best to speak to the doctor before waking the boy. "Come on, sweetheart."
"No. Up!"
"No, Sweetie," Naomi said softly but firmly. "Let him sleep."
"No! He's scared! Wake him up!" Blair said stubbornly. He darted away from her, clambering up and over the foot of the bed before she realized what he was up to. He scrambled up the bed to kneel in front of the sleeping boy, reaching out to pat his cheek insistently. "Wake up!"
The boy woke with a jerk that drove him backwards into the safety rails on the far side of the bed. For an instant, his face was that of a frightened child, then the expression was gone, replaced by a closed-off neutrality that made him look far too mature for his years.
"Hi," Blair offered gravely, extending one small hand. "I'm Blair."
The young Sentinel barely glanced at him, shifting his wary gaze to Naomi. She smiled softly. "I'm Naomi, Blair's mother. Go ahead, introduce yourself." He hesitated, clearly confused by the situation. "Jim, Blair's a Guide," she explained gently.
His eyes widened in disbelief, and his lips moved, soundlessly echoing "Guide?"
Naomi nodded, repeating firmly, "Blair's a Guide."
Turning his gaze back to the child kneeling next to him on the bed, hand still expectantly extended, he said softly, "Um, hi, Blair. I'm Jim."
Jim held his hand out slightly; Blair promptly seized it and pumped it up and down enthusiastically. "Hi, Jim!" he chirped cheerfully before launching into an excited babble about the long car ride, and how noisy the rest of the hospital was, and didn't Jim have a dreamcatcher to catch the scary dreams, and did Jim know it was raining outside?
Naomi giggled in sheer relief at her son's abrupt return to his pre-mudslide self. Then she giggled again at the bewildered expression on the other boy's face.
"Ms Sandburg?"
Turning in response to the inquiry, Naomi beamed brightly at the doctor who had just arrived in the room. "I guess we don't have to worry about whether they'll 'click'."
"They do seem to be getting off to a good start," he acknowledged. "I'm Dr McKay, Ms Sandburg."
"Please, call me Naomi." Cutting straight to the heart of the matter, she asked, "Doctor, how long will it take to be certain that the bond is going to stabilize?"
He observed the boys thoughtfully for several moments, then smiled slightly. "Not long. Your son is already focussing closely on Jim, and Jim's definitely responding to him. Jim hasn't been this alert in days." McKay watched them for a few more minutes before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, this looks very promising.
"Of course, since the bond is trust-based, its long-term strength and stability are virtually impossible to predict," he qualified, "but they're off to a promising start. Once Jim's senses have had a chance to settle down and focus on young Blair, the bond should stabilize fairly quickly. The less distraction around, the sooner that will happen. So, why don't we leave these two to get acquainted while we talk?" he suggested. "They'll be fine; one of the nurses can keep a discreet eye on them in case of any problems."
Naomi wasn't sure whether Blair would allow that; he'd been very clingy in the weeks since the disaster. But he was acting much more like his usual cheerful, gregarious self, and he seemed to have really taken to the young Sentinel. Raising her voice, she called, "Sweetie? I need to go talk to Dr McKay. Will you stay here with your new friend until I get back?"
Hands stilled their animated movement, and Blair quavered uncertainly, "Nomi? You leaving?"
Naomi gave the doctor a helpless look. She understood why the doctor wanted the boys to spend some time alone together, but she couldn't bear to leave Blair if he was upset. He'd always been so good about being left with someone before... Naomi knew that he would have to get over the fear of being left alone that being trapped in the mudslide had caused, but she really did think that it was too soon to force the issue.
"She'll just be down the hall," the doctor interjected smoothly. "Jim will take care of you until she gets back, won't you, Jim?"
Given such an obvious prompt, the young Sentinel responded with an obedient, "Yes, sir."
Moving over to the bed, she caressed Blair's cheek softly and prompted, "Sweetie? Will you wait here with Jim?"
Blair clutched at Naomi's hand, his breathing rapid and shallow as his gaze darted back and forth between her and the young Sentinel. Recognizing an impending panic attack, Naomi prepared to retract the suggestion. Before she could, however, another voice spoke up.
"You'll stay and keep me company for a while, won't you, Chief?" Jim asked, the merest hint of anxiety in his voice.
Fingers tightening around hers, Blair remained silent as he gave Naomi a pleading look. She ruffled his hair and prompted, "Blair?"
"Please?" Jim offered Blair a shy, hopeful smile. "It's kind of boring bein' the only kid... surrounded by grownups... nobody to talk to or play with..."
Naomi's lips twitched with the effort not to laugh as Blair's eyes went wide and his grip on her hand loosened. Obviously, Jim had some experience with young children; very few would resist an appeal for rescue from boredom. Bored and surrounded by grownups - oh, the horror of it all...
"Nobody?" Blair gasped.
Jim shook his head. "Nobody," he echoed solemnly.
Taking a deep breath, Blair heaved a big sigh, then reluctantly released Naomi's hand. "Okay. I stay," he decided bravely. Frowning at her, he ordered, "Come back soon."
"Very soon," she promised, unable to resist giving him a quick hug. "Have fun, sweetie." She dropped a tender kiss onto his tousled curls. A hastily-hidden, wistful look had her bending over and pressing a matching one on Jim's too-pale cheek as well. He didn't even have time to react before she was gone, heading for the doorway. "Be good, boys. But not too good," she called cheerily over her shoulder.
She had a feeling that things were going to work out just fine.
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Date: 2005-09-03 06:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-06 11:32 am (UTC)I love your spin on it, and Naomi's being a great Mom for once.
Aggravating as Naomi's attitude can be (especially in TSbyBS, an episode that frankly isn't very flattering to any of the characters), there's also moments when the affection between her and Blair is pretty clear. And, while there's quite a few stories that have Jim and Blair meet briefly as kids, and some that have them both end up living in the Ellison household, there aren't many (if any) where they both end up in Naomi's care as kids. Toss in general knowledge and acceptance of Sentinels and Guides as a pairing of equals, and I thought it made an interesting scenario to explore.
Glad you enjoyed it!
no subject
Date: 2005-09-07 08:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-03 07:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-06 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-06 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-04 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-06 11:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 01:27 pm (UTC)Hope you don't mind my jumping in but I really do like this story (I like all your TS gen stuff I've read). I hope you continue it at some point. I'd love to see Jim made happy - his father really was a jerk. And 'little' Blair is so cute!
Would you mind if I friended you?
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I like your Sentinel AUs very much.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-20 04:47 pm (UTC)