TS Sentinel/Guide AU fic
Nov. 3rd, 2004 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
calic0catI've been kind of swamped by Real Life again so I haven't had a ton of writing time. And, unfortunately, when I *have* had writing time the muse has been stubborn about what to work on. Meaning that I haven't gotten much accomplished on any of the things that I *should* have been working on. I did, however, manage to write a TS fic.
Title: Forging the Connection
Series: Lifebond #1
Author: Calic0cat
Story Completed: November 2, 2004
Category: pre-slash
Pairing: J/B
Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing, implied past NCS (non-con sex)
Website: http://calic0cat.freeservers.com/
Disclaimer: Don't own Jim and Blair and the rest of the gang and I'm sure not making any money off of'em. Not making any money off the story itself either, but it at least does belong to me.
Notes: A Sentinel/Guide AU. Calling this installment "pre-slash" is stretching things but, since the series is definitely going to become slash, I think it's appropriate.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Caro, T.W., Sheila, Marion, Stacey, Rhyo, and all the other folks on SenBetas for all the editing (and titling) assistance.
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"I don't know why the hell I let you talk me into this..." Blair grumbled unhappily as he followed his friend towards the auction building. He'd sworn never to set foot in a Sentinel sales facility, yet here he was, about to attend the annual Cascade Sentinel Auction, the largest Sentinel auction in the whole star cluster.
"Because you know that the article's important," Janet replied promptly. "I really am sorry I had to get you involved, Blair, but when Lindsey got sick I couldn't think of anyone else with Guide credentials who'd be willing to help out."
"Just don't expect to stay till the whole thing's over. I don't know if I can stand being here that long," Blair admitted, his head already starting to pound with the pressure of being so near hundreds of unbonded Sentinels. Add in the fact that he was already nauseated by the very idea of the auction itself, and he knew that it was going to be one long, rough day. "And Janet - try not to get us arrested, okay?"
She laughed and promised, "I'll try."
"Please do," he said fervently. Getting arrested for demonstrating outside a Sentinel "education" facility when they were both undergrads was one thing; getting arrested for causing a disruption of the annual Cascade Sentinel Auction now would be a whole other story. He'd almost certainly lose his internship if that happened and he really needed that teaching job.
Of course, Janet was in a similar position; her employer would not be impressed if she got arrested while researching a story for the highly controversial newsletter _Free Spirit_. Cyclops Energy would not be pleased to discover that "Nellie Bly" was in fact one of their public relations advisors so Janet was very careful to preserve her anonymity in the activist community. Her position at Cyclops paid the bills and opened doors that would otherwise remain closed. Doors that provided her with critical material for her writing.
Her published articles covered a variety of social and environmental issues; Sentinels were simply her latest focus. Janet already had several articles in print dealing with the historical, ethical, and legal issues surrounding the current status of Sentinels in society. This wasn't the first time that she'd approached Blair for help with her research; his own research gave him the perfect excuse to access restricted collections at the university on her behalf, just as his status as an unbonded Guide provided the excuse for their presence here today.
The "Sentinel issue" was becoming an increasingly controversial topic. Security at the auction was tight to ensure that protestors were kept out; other than accredited Guides and their guests - one per Guide - attendance was strictly invitation-only. Blair had to present his Guide ID and submit to a bioscan to confirm his identity, then both he and Janet were subjected to a security scan. Once they were cleared, Blair reluctantly accepted his seat number and a copy of the auction catalogue.
Janet reached for the glossy-covered book but Blair tucked it under his arm and shook his head. "Later." He'd seen excerpts from past catalogues and he doubted that this one was any less degrading to the "merchandise". If they started reading the lot descriptions now, he seriously doubted that either of them could conceal their outrage. Janet would have plenty of time to study it in private later, when her reaction wouldn't get them thrown out or worse.
Janet frowned but accepted his decision. "The auction starts in less than an hour; we should go walk through..." she suggested carefully, waving towards the holding area.
Blair took a deep breath and nodded, reminding himself firmly that not only was experiencing the auction in its revolting entirety the reason that they were here in the first place but that it would look suspicious if they *didn't* check out the "merchandise". They needed to blend in so that they wouldn't be the obvious culprits when Janet's scathing article was published complete with excerpts from the auction catalogue.
Taking a moment to ground and centre, Blair tested his empathic barriers. They were taking a real beating but were still solid; hopefully they would continue to hold. He really didn't want to have to resort to taking even a microdose of Shieldeze, though he'd brought some along as a precautionary measure.
Unlike most unbonded Guides, Blair didn't make a habit of relying on chemical means to control his empathy and dull the bonding urge. He used meditation and shielding techniques instead, skills first learned as a child at his mother's knee then expanded on under the tutelage of various spiritualists, gurus, and shamans as he matured and became capable of more advanced techniques. Occasionally, he had to resort to Shieldeze - during finals week every semester, for example, when emotions on campus ran high and he was tired and stressed himself - but even then he stuck to microdoses, mere fractions of the "normal" dosage. Just enough to reinforce his overstressed shields rather than to act as an artificial replacement for them.
Even many bonded Guides had to resort to the drug at times; Blair blamed that on weak bonds. And he blamed those on the current system of matching up Sentinels and Guides.
While it was true that virtually any marginally compatible Sentinel and Guide could bond, the strength of the bond varied widely. Many were nothing more than a temporary working bond, barely functional and so frail that mere proximity to an unbonded and more compatible individual could shred the connection like so much tissue paper. Even the strongest modern bonds were nowhere near as solid as those reported in stories of pre-auction days, when bonds were formed based on mutual agreement between the two partners. And since - no matter how much natural potential a Sentinel or Guide had - a bonded pair's abilities were limited by the strength of the bond, that meant that none of the modern Sentinel-Guide pairs came close to matching the feats accomplished by their predecessors.
A wave of revulsion - Janet's reaction magnifying his own - swept over Blair as the first Sentinel, scantily clad in richly coloured silks and wearing a gem-encrusted, gold-plated control collar, came into view. Blair stumbled, momentarily disoriented by the impact of the emotions. Janet grabbed his arm, steadying him, and murmured an apologetic "Sorry."
Blair caught her hand, keeping it on his arm. She couldn't go running around broadcasting that strongly; she would draw too much attention. The crowd and the press of unbonded minds would provide a certain amount of "white noise" to dull the perceptions of other Guides but Janet was projecting too strongly for that to be completely effective. He would have to try to keep her emotions inside his own barriers - a difficult trick even for bonded Guides - and that would be a lot easier with physical contact. "I'll watch my step more carefully," he replied ambiguously, struggling to shield both his own disgust and outrage and Janet's as well.
"Me too." Janet fell silent and, after a few minutes, her emotions eased into a cool, clinical curiosity. Blair realized with relief that she'd submersed herself in her journalist persona, forcing herself to view the situation with professional detachment. With an effort, he carried out a similar feat, switching his mind over to anthropologist mode and treating the auction as some sort of bizarre ritual carried out by an obscure tribe, something that he had to observe without imposing his own moral and ethical beliefs on the experience.
It - helped. Enough so that he could be certain that no one else would pick up on his disgust and start questioning his presence here when the auction disturbed him so greatly.
It also helped that the Sentinels in the first section that they walked through were relatively calm and at ease. These were the Sentinels who had been detected at birth or in early childhood; they had spent their entire lives being prepared for this and were, for the most part, accepting of their role in society. Some projected a touch of nervousness, a shadow of discontent, or some sensory discomfort caused by the crowding, but nothing terribly disturbing. Even the bonding call projected by them was muted to a mere whisper.
Other parts of the holding area were a different story; Blair had to turn back before his shields could be breached. Not all Sentinels were diagnosed at a young age. Some were latents whose abilities had been triggered by isolation or traumatic experiences. They were accustomed to freedom and tended, understandably, to resist their new place in society. The anger, humiliation, sorrow, and pain that emanated from them was overwhelming.
But something kept drawing Blair back to that area and he was simultaneously thrilled and horrified by what he suspected it was. Bonds of convenience - the only kind officially recognized in the Central Worlds - didn't have that kind of insistence, that kind of power. But the lifebonds of legend - the very topic of his thesis - did. Stories claimed that the call of a lifebond could draw partners together over hundreds of miles.
It had been a struggle to get his dissertation topic approved; lifebonds were considered nothing more than a romantic notion and his decision to research the phenomenon's existence in modern society had met with considerable resistance from his advisors. But Blair knew that lifebonds were real - real and quietly acknowledged amongst the colony planets at the fringes of the Central Worlds' realm of authority. He'd met lifebonded partners several times during his childhood travels with his enlightenment-seeking mother. What those pairs had together was - incredible. They had a connection so deep and powerful that they functioned as if they were a single entity, abilities meshing seamlessly to reach their fullest potential.
A lifebond. The Holy Grail of Sentinel-Guide partnerships. Could he pass up a chance at that even for the sake of his deep-seated ethical objections to the way that Sentinels were treated in society?
The tug grew more insistent, the feeling of *need* intensifying. Blair made his decision and pulled the pack of Shieldeze out of his pocket. Personal ethics were all well and good but he couldn't refuse that call, couldn't turn his back on his fated partner, couldn't abandon his Sentinel, merely because he objected to the circumstances bringing them together. Tearing a small piece off the end of one Shieldeze strip, he placed it on his tongue. It dissolved in seconds.
"Blair?" Janet asked, concerned that he'd had to resort to medication so early in the day; she knew how much he hated relying on that crutch.
"Remember my thesis topic?"
"Yes..." she frowned in confusion. "What does that..."
"Keep it in mind and trust me," Blair interrupted grimly, hoping that she'd pick up the hint; otherwise she would be in for a real shock later on when he started bidding. His shields strengthened as the drug took effect and he started towards the area he'd been unable to tolerate entering before.
Towards the insistent call of a lifebond.
***
The impact of a heavy boot against his ribs jolted the Sentinel out of the zone he'd deliberately drifted into. Judging by the ache in his side, it wasn't the first kick to make contact so it was odd that it had succeeded where the others had failed. "Cut it out, 3!" a voice snapped angrily.
"Go to hell, Brackett," he answered flatly, locking his sight back onto the gleam of light reflecting off his chain and focussing his full concentration on it. He didn't have much control over his senses but one thing that he could do was deliberately zone. Zoning was the only escape he had left; maybe if he was lucky it would prove more successful than the other methods he'd attempted. Regardless of whether or not he managed to zone beyond the point of no return, even a temporary escape from reality was better than dwelling on the fate that would undoubtedly await him at the auction.
With a record that included six escape attempts, four suicide attempts, unsuccessful bonds with two different Guides, and the attempted murder of his most recent Guide - too bad Brackett had survived - he had no illusions about the type of bidder he would attract. In all likelihood, he'd end up as a test subject for a research lab. His existence since his "rescue" from the disastrous mission that had killed the rest of his Ranger squad and triggered his latent Sentinel abilities had been a nightmare; he had no desire to see how much worse it could get as a lab rat.
Jim sank into the zone so quickly and deeply that Brackett's reply didn't even register.
***
Blair suppressed a shudder as they picked their way deeper and deeper into the holding area, the scene around them changing as they proceeded. The Sentinels nearest the entrance had been reasonably content - healthy and fit, their flawless skin and perfect muscle tone emphasized by the beautiful - albeit skimpy - clothing they wore, their entire appearance designed to allure. Even their control collars were etched, embossed, or set with gems - ornamental jewellery rather than merely functional disciplinary tools. No hint of abuse was allowed to taint the showpieces of the auction.
But the Sentinels in the section that he and Janet were now walking through were different cases entirely. Blair wasn't surprised to discover that the emotional distress - unhappiness, anger, and despair - was often matched by an equally poor physical state. Signs of abuse and neglect were far from uncommon. Theoretically, all Sentinels in the auction had to pass a med-check but clearly that was little more than a token gesture.
The pull of the lifebond drew Blair towards the very back of the holding area. He faltered for an instant as he passed the consignment of ex-convicts from Cascade's penal facility, his attention momentarily caught by a well-endowed blonde whose attractiveness was marred by the hard, calculating look in her eyes. Her need for a bond called more strongly than those around her - but not nearly as powerfully and urgently as the lifebond. Blair turned away and continued on, following its call.
Finally, he halted in front of the Central Interstellar Authority's consignment. Shit. This was bad. Very bad. The CIA - among its other responsibilities - was in exclusive control of all military Sentinels, no matter what division they were nominally assigned to. And it was a well-known fact that military Sentinels left the service under one of four conditions only: dead, burnt out, physically disabled, or - very, very rarely - complete intractability. The latter was rare because of the simple fact that usually an uncooperative Sentinel would end up being in one of the previous conditions long before the military would give up on his or her "re-education" into a more tractable state. Sentinels discarded by the CIA were usually only of interest to corporate research labs for use as guinea pigs; they were simply too badly damaged to bond with anyone.
But the lifebond's draw was powerful and undeniable. Proof that, no matter how damaged his Sentinel might turn out to be, there was still room for hope.
As if the probable condition of his soon-to-be-partner wasn't a big enough concern, Blair knew that he was going to be facing another problem in the form of his mother. She was going to have a fit; Naomi *loathed* the military. It was going to take a lot of "processing" for her to come to terms with her son bonding with an ex-soldier, if she ever did.
Not that he was overly thrilled about any of this himself. A lifebond might be his Holy Grail but the circumstances in which he was discovering it were far from desirable.
Sweeping his gaze slowly over the group, Blair had difficulty locating the source of the summons that had led him here. He could still sense the lifebond's call but there were too many distractions to accurately trace it without physically following it right to the Sentinel responsible. He didn't want to resort to that; he knew enough about auctions to know that he shouldn't give away his interest in a particular individual that clearly.
His funds were far from unlimited and his next stipend from the university wasn't due till month-end. Not that such a paltry sum would go very far when he did receive it, especially since it would have to stretch to provide for two people instead of one. Money was going to be tight for a while; buying a Sentinel wasn't exactly in his budgetary plan for the semester. A Guide's first bond was subsidized by government grants but the usual application method involved applying prior to buying a Sentinel, not after the fact; it would take months for an application to be processed and funds awarded.
"I think this is a mistake," Janet frowned as she appropriated the auction catalogue from him. "But if you're determined to go through with this, I know better than to try talking you out of it."
"Thanks," he said simply. Janet had obviously figured out that he was planning to bid and, whether she understood his reasons or not, she wasn't going to try to interfere. That was the best he could hope for from her.
Flipping through the book to the beginning of the Authority's listings, she noted, "The CIA has five lots listed."
"I'm only counting four..." Blair cautiously tweaked his shields, slowly and painstakingly attempting to filter out everything save the lifebond. The Shieldeze strengthened his barriers but at the same time it made them less responsive, even at the extremely low dosage he'd taken; that was just one of the many reasons that he hated to use it.
A voice raised in anger and the high-pitched warning whine of a control collar drew his attention to the furthest corner of the enclosure assigned to the CIA consignment. All he could see was the back of a uniformed man. The man drew back his foot, administering a vicious kick to something on the floor in front of him, and Blair realized abruptly where the fifth Sentinel was.
And that the fifth Sentinel was his.
***
Jim resisted the insistent mental tug that was trying to draw him out of the zone. It wasn't Brackett - he knew all too well what Brackett's slimy mind felt like and it was nothing like this warm, bright touch - but that didn't matter. He had no intention of bonding with *anyone*; he wanted to stay zoned. Permanently.
But the damage was done; he'd been pulled partway out of the zone and a boot in the kidneys combined with a painful shock from the collar to finish the job. An involuntary gasp of pain escaped before he could bite it back.
"So, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes," Brackett snapped. "On your feet, Sentinel!"
The collar whined in warning. Jim considered just lying there and letting Brackett zap him again and again until his body finally overloaded. It probably wouldn't take much more provocation to push the CIA Guide into doing it. "Fuck you," he enunciated slowly and precisely.
The Guide's face darkened and he touched the collar's remote. Determined not to cry out, Jim bit his tongue as agonizing pain ripped through his nervous system. The collar's built-in safeguards kicked in after several excruciating moments, putting it back into standby mode. Before Brackett could trigger it again, the overhead lights blinked and a chime announced that the auction was about to start.
Brackett froze for an instant, then smirked darkly. "Is it that time already? My, my, how time flies when you're having fun." He kicked Jim again and the Sentinel involuntarily curled around the agony exploding through his ribs. "Ah well, playtime's over. Time to get back to work. Have to be sure you're all prepared for your big moment, after all. Parting will be such sweet sorrow..." With that, Brackett turned and walked away.
Lying on the cold cement, Jim closed his eyes in weary defeat. Dammit. Just when he'd been on the verge of succeeding...
Well, there was still his original plan. Opening himself up to the pain, Jim sought a zone.
Sought it and failed. That same vibrant touch that had pulled him out of his previous one refused to let him succumb again. It wasn't a bond, merely a... suggestion... of the possibility. An invitation.
A disturbingly alluring invitation. He didn't *want* to bond, dammit! He *didn't*. The only thing he wanted was his freedom. His previous attempts to reclaim it had made it clear that the only way to achieve that goal would be in death.
Besides, no sane Guide would want to bond with him anyway after reading his record. Not that it mattered, because he didn't want to bond.
No matter how much reassurance, solace, and hope the mind touching his might seem to promise.
***
Blair breathed a silent sigh of relief as the so-called Guide in charge of the CIA consignment broke off his "fun". The urge to intervene had been nearly overwhelming but he'd known better than to make that mistake. Only a superior officer had the right to interfere with a CIA Guide's treatment of a Sentinel under his charge. Any interference on his part would have been useless at best and detrimental at worst; getting himself thrown out of the auction or arrested on the spot would have done no one any good whatsoever.
Only the knowledge that this was the only way to truly help his Sentinel gave Blair the determination necessary to turn and walk away. His awareness of the as-yet-unfulfilled lifebond had strengthened with proximity and that new strength remained despite the increased separation as he headed in to take his seat for the auction. The connection wasn't nearly as powerful as an actual bond but the other man's emotions were so strong that he couldn't help but sense them. He knew exactly how far gone the Sentinel was. Knew that the other man wanted to die, that he despaired of ever gaining his freedom.
Well, Blair couldn't promise freedom - not entirely. There was no such thing as a free Sentinel under Central Worlds' law. But he could offer something as close to freedom as possible. A bonded Sentinel was indeed slave to his Guide's every whim but very few laws governed the Sentinel-Guide relationship beyond that. And most of those were open to rather - creative - interpretation. If a Guide chose to treat his Sentinel as an equal - well, there really wasn't anything to prevent him from doing so, providing that a few basic legalities were observed. And that was exactly what Blair intended to do; he wanted an equal partner, not a slave.
Of course, convincing the Sentinel of his sincerity might be a problem.
Once they were seated, Janet handed him back the open auction catalogue and Blair glanced over the photos of the five CIA lots, quickly eliminating the Sentinels that he'd gotten a good look at. Skimming the information on the remaining one, Lot B3, had him revising that "might" to "would definitely".
Previous Guides: two. Bond strength: weak, unstable. Sensory status: wild. Behavioural history: escape attempts, suicide attempts, assault on a Guide... Okay, that definitely didn't inspire confidence. On the other hand, the so-called Guide had probably deserved it. And it did indicate a decent chance that the Sentinel's spirit hadn't been completely broken.
Blair could certainly see why the CIA didn't want this Sentinel anymore.
His musings were interrupted by his companion's worried murmur. "Are you sure about this? He sounds... dangerous."
Abruptly reminded that she'd been leaning against his shoulder and reading along, Blair forced a chuckle. "Well, at least I shouldn't have a lot of competition bidding..."
Janet frowned at him. "I'm serious, Blair. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Not really. "Of course," he assured her with a seemingly-nonchalant grin.
She didn't look very convinced but the first Sentinel entered the ring, putting an end to the discussion. Blair settled back in his seat and prepared to endure the next few hours. The prime lots would be auctioned off first while the "junk lots" - including the prison and CIA Sentinels - would be the last ones sold. He checked his shields carefully and hoped that they'd last that long without requiring another chemically-induced boost. He was going to need full control of his abilities when the auction ended if he was going to have any chance of getting through to his Sentinel and establishing enough of a connection to be allowed to take him home.
***
That slight, persistent mental connection hadn't gone away. Jim wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't painful or forceful, it was just - there. A quiet awareness that there was a Guide - a *compatible* Guide, probably the most compatible one he'd ever encountered - nearby. A very small part of him had to reluctantly wonder whether maybe he would have a reprieve from the labs after all. Surely a Guide wouldn't maintain even such a light link without a genuine interest in bonding?
Not that it mattered anyway because he didn't *want* to bond. He wanted to be free, even if only in death.
So why did he have to keep silencing a faint stirring of hope?
***
The crowd dwindled as the auction progressed. Bidders stayed only until the lots of interest to them were sold. A handful of representatives from research labs and a few curious observers were all that remained by the time that Blair's sole interest entered the ring.
The Sentinel was half-dragged into the ring by two of the auctioneer's assistants. He stood stubbornly motionless when released. A jolt from the control collar failed to budge him and Blair suppressed a grin of appreciation for the man's determination. Shackled and collared, stripped naked, body mottled with bruises and marked with scars, the Sentinel stood tall and defiant. The auctioneer sighed and shook his head, clearly not expecting much from this lot. "Bond bidders?" he queried automatically, not even pausing before continuing, "None? Then we'll start with corporate..."
Blair had pressed the bid button the instant that the auctioneer asked for a show of interest. Guides bidding on Sentinels for bonding purposes had priority; those bidding for other reasons - such as procuring research subjects - could only bid if there were no bond bidders willing to meet the reserve price.
The auctioneer stumbled to a halt as a low tone and a flashing light on his console drew his attention. "Uh, sorry folks, my mistake, we're starting with bond bidders after all... Let's start with the reserve bid of fifteen hundred creds..."
Another press of the bid button confirmed his acceptance of the price, then Blair waited, fingers crossed for luck, while the auctioneer made the obligatory attempt to draw another bid. His car was going to have to wait another month for repairs and they'd be eating macaroni and cheese for the rest of the month as it was. Fortunately, no more bids were forthcoming and the gavel descended mere moments later, leaving Blair the "owner" of his Sentinel.
The concept left Blair fighting a severe attack of nausea; he found the very notion of buying another human being totally repellent. Knowing that he'd had no other option - well, other than ignoring the pull of the lifebond and abandoning his partner - didn't make it any less revolting.
"Let's go," he told Janet quietly once he had his reaction under control.
She rose as he did and they silently exited the auction area, heading for the auction yard's office to confirm his purchase. "I hope you know what you're doing," Janet said grimly as they walked.
So did he.
***
He had no idea who his buyer was - only that it was a bond bidder, not a lab. The rush of relief at that development was startling; maybe he hadn't been quite as resigned to his fate as he'd tried to convince himself. Maybe, despite the pain and humiliation, he wasn't quite ready to give up and die.
The realization shook Jim sufficiently that he actually cooperated as he was prodded out of the auction ring and down a hallway. That cooperation came to an abrupt end, however, as they turned into a room and the significance of its sole furnishing dawned on him. Sheer, blind panic set in as vague memories of Brackett's repeated re-forging of their unstable bond began to surface.
It took two strong men and three numbing jolts from the control collar but they finally managed to wrestle Jim into position. His worst fears were confirmed when they shackled him spreadeagled and face-down on the bed.
His new Guide was obviously male.
Jim shuddered then forced himself to lie still, testing the shackles carefully, searching for any hint of weakness. Anything to give him even the slightest advantage in the struggle to come. He'd fought Brackett every damn time, even when he'd known that he was only making things worse for himself. That was the one small piece of dignity he'd managed to hold on to and he wasn't going to let go of it now, new Guide be damned.
***
"Good luck and be careful." Janet kissed Blair's cheek and hugged him tightly. "I'll be right here waiting when you're ready to go."
"Thanks." He hugged her back. "You know, though, you really don't have to wait; who knows how long this'll take?" They'd arrived in Janet's car this morning; his was waiting for repairs. Again. So unless she stayed, he'd have to resort to an alternative form of transport. Sure, he'd prefer getting a ride home from Janet but he wasn't quite so hard up that he couldn't afford a cab.
She just rolled her eyes and repeated, "I'll be right here when you're ready to go."
"Well, if you insist..."
"I do," she said firmly.
"Well, okay then. Thanks. I really appreciate it," Blair said gratefully, giving her another quick hug. Janet might not understand or approve of what he was doing but she was a good enough friend that she was willing to stand by him anyway.
"Just be careful," she repeated insistently before turning and walking off towards the waiting lounge.
Blair watched her go, running his fingers thoughtfully over the ungainly, unwelcome weight clasped around his wrist. He hated the ugly thing and what it symbolized. But he'd never be allowed alone in the room with his Sentinel without the remote that controlled the matching collar around his Sentinel's neck.
And of course wearing the bracelet didn't mean that he actually had to *use* it, after all.
Besides which, he might need its implicit threat to get the Sentinel's attention long enough to convince him to listen. Despite his words to Janet, he knew that his time wasn't unlimited. Either he established at least a Class Two Bond with his new Sentinel within twelve hours or they'd be pronounced incompatible and the sale would be nullified.
There were a couple of ways to accomplish the required bond but one of those methods - the quickest and unfortunately most common one - was an option that he wasn't willing to consider. That left earning at least the conditional trust and cooperation of a man who most likely had every reason not to trust *any* Guide, let alone the one who now "owned" him.
Turning to face the door he'd halted in front of, Blair pressed one palm against the scanning plate while using his other hand to type in the code he'd been issued. The door slid silently open and he stepped into the room. It closed behind him as he froze, sweeping a revolted look over the scene that greeted him. He'd had a pretty good idea what to expect but seeing the scarred and bruised body bound to the bed was still a shock. "Shit."
Muscles already quivering with tension gave an involuntary jerk at the sound of his voice. Blair cautiously lowered his shields a bit and winced as a wave of pain/humiliation/hatred/despair/fear/defiance crashed into him. "Easy, it's okay, take it easy," he murmured hastily. He picked up the blanket that lay crumpled on the floor and flicked it over the Sentinel's naked body, realizing belatedly as the man jerked violently against the shackles that a little forewarning might have been a good idea. "Sorry, just a blanket. Take it easy, I'm not going to hurt you," he soothed as he moved up into viewing range.
Sinking into a crouch beside the bed, Blair brought his face down to the same level as the Sentinel's. He locked his eyes with the other's panicky yet still defiant blue ones. "Calm down, you're going to be okay." Putting every bit of conviction that he could summon into his words, he promised, "I'm not going to hurt you. Concentrate on me and sense the truth: I am *not* going to hurt you. I'm not going to rape you. We only need to achieve a Level Two Bond and sex is not the only way to manage that." Admittedly, sex could be somewhat of a shortcut to establishing or strengthening a bond but, in the absence of a solid base to build on, its effect was short-lived.
The Sentinel didn't precisely relax but there was a slight, subtle easing of the tension in his body. His facial expression was shuttered and hard to read but Blair's empathy allowed him to sense the matching easing of the panicky despair that had gripped the man a few moments earlier. It wasn't much but it was a start.
Now to build on that beginning...
Blair had been careful not to touch the Sentinel as he spoke; he needed to establish a baseline of trust here and that included showing respect for the Sentinel's personal space. "Listen, you've got to be pretty uncomfortable. Promise to hear me out and I'll get you out of these damn things," he offered, indicating the nearest wrist shackle.
The emotions that Blair had previously sensed were rapidly being replaced by confusion. The Sentinel stared at him for several long moments then finally moved his head in a hesitant nod. "Deal."
"Cool." Blair flashed a pleased grin towards his Sentinel before moving to the foot of the bed to release the foot shackles first. He ignored the flinch that greeted his touch, knowing that it wasn't personal.
Freed of the restraints, the Sentinel warily shifted to the edge of the bed then stood, blanket gathered around him defensively. "So talk."
The belligerent tone made Blair want to grin again, though he suspected that the entire situation was creating considerable consternation in the security monitoring room. While there was no specified protocol for a Guide to follow during the post-auction bonding, he was pretty sure that his behaviour was well outside the norm.
"Okay, talk, yeah, I can do that..." Blair took a deep breath and made an effort to get his thoughts in order. There were so many things he wanted to say...
"Uh, hi, I'm Blair Sandburg. I'm a grad student over at Rainier and I'm working on my doctorate in Anthropology in the area of Sentinel Studies." Expectantly, he held out his hand.
***
Jim had no idea what the hell to make of his new Guide. That sense of connection had strengthened when the Guide had entered the room so the man was undoubtedly the source of the link he'd been feeling most of the day. The kid wasn't behaving at all like past experience had led him to expect. Not that he was complaining, of course, but the kid just kept throwing him one curve ball after another. He'd been unshackled, allowed to wrap himself in the blanket, and now his Guide was clearly expecting him to shake hands.
In other words, he was being treated like a human being for the first time since the rescue squad had realized exactly what he'd become during the time he'd been stranded with the Chopec. And while his control wasn't good enough to get a reliable reading on the kid's truthfulness, Jim was almost reluctantly inclined to believe in his sincerity.
From the moment he'd been identified as a Sentinel, he'd lost his identity and had been quite - firmly - trained to answer to an assigned designation. This Guide should be telling him what he would be known as, not asking. If he took the kid at his word...
Jim debated his options for a few moments before finally shifting his grip on the blanket to free up one hand. Extending it cautiously, he offered, "Jim Ellison."
A firm grip closed around his hand and shook it. "Hey, nice to meet you, Jim."
Jim's tension eased a bit more at this confirmation of the kid's - of Sandburg's - sincerity. A tingling rush of warmth and comfort spread from the handclasp up Jim's arm and through his body. Startled, he pulled back and the other man released his grip instantly, allowing the retreat. "What the hell?" he gasped in shocked denial as the feeling rushed through him, leaving only a pleasant warmth and a vague awareness of his new Guide's well-being in its wake. "That was..."
"A Level One... Shit." His Guide looked just as shaken as Jim felt.
Silently, Jim echoed the sentiment. Shit. He'd been aware that this Guide was exceptionally compatible with him but spontaneously bonding with a *handshake*? Okay, so it was just a Level One but still... Even his mostly-willing bond with Carolyn had taken hours of proximity and unrelenting pressure on his mental barriers to reach Level One.
As for his definitely-*un*willing bond with Brackett... Jim's mind shied away from that, blocking those memories before they could be fully revealed, repressing even the bits that had already surfaced and leaving him with only the knowledge that the experience had been bad. Very bad. And definitely nothing like what he'd just experienced.
Shock already fading, his Guide broke into a broad grin. "Whoa. What a rush." He bounced a little on the balls of his feet, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically as he suggested, "Want to try for Level Two so we can get the hell out of here and finish this conversation sans audience?"
Jim hadn't really believed the kid when he'd promised that they wouldn't need sex to achieve a Level Two but now... Now, Jim had to admit that it might be possible. But did he *want* to bond? Or did he want the bond to fail, want to be sent back to the auction block and undoubtedly end up a lab rat as previously expected?
If Sandburg was on the level, if he was going to keep treating Jim like a fellow human being... It wouldn't be freedom but it might, just maybe, be bearable...
If.
Cautiously, Jim reached mentally for that narrow thread of connection between them, searching for any tinge of darkness, any hint of deceit. All he found was vibrant, comfortable warmth - nothing like the unyielding coldness that had characterized Carolyn or the cruel, tainted shadows of the link with Brackett. But then again, this was only a Level One bond; even a Level Two wouldn't put him far enough inside the Guide's shields to be sure that he wasn't only feeling what the Guide wanted him to feel.
Taking advantage of the fact that his senses were at least semi-responsive at the moment, Jim monitored the Guide closely as he said, "You're sure we won't have to..."
The kid's enthusiasm steadied to calm certainty. "Yes, I'm sure. Sex is not a requirement for a Level Two bond."
While his senses confirmed that the statement was truthful in and of itself, Jim picked up on what Sandburg *hadn't* said. "What about higher levels?" he demanded suspiciously.
Sandburg shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Only time will tell. But..."
Jim took an immediate step backwards and shook his head. The details were mercifully clouded but he remembered enough to know that it had been Brackett's efforts to force an unstable Level Two up to a Level Three that had finally driven him to attempted murder. He couldn't take that again; even a brief, unpleasant life as a lab rat would be better.
"Ah-ah! Let me finish!" Sandburg continued hurriedly, holding up a hand to stop Jim from interrupting. "*But*... rape is never an option. If Level Two is as far as we get, I can live with that. Sure, I'd like us to be a fully bonded pair but no means no, period. I'm not going to do anything without your complete, willing, consent."
Every sense, every *instinct* was telling him that Sandburg was sincere. Add in the lure of the connection that was already in place, the knowledge that its cozy comfort couldn't help but strengthen as the bond deepened... He couldn't refuse, couldn't pass up the possibility of a life that just might be worth living.
He swallowed hard, then asked, "If not sex, then how?"
Sandburg smiled and held out his hands. "Take my hands. Relax and try to match your respiration to mine. Then just follow your instinct."
It took a minute for Jim to awkwardly knot the blanket to keep it wrapped firmly in place but then he followed his Guide's directions. Synchronising their heartbeats and breathing was surprisingly effortless and bore immediate fruit as the dull headache that had been his constant companion for so long that he'd become accustomed to its presence vanished without a trace.
The lure of the link tugged at his consciousness. Closing his eyes, he hesitantly yielded, following its draw inward.
Jim could sense the link changing. Strengthening and becoming more complex. It still radiated light and warmth and comfort but there was more there too. Excitement. Nervousness. Uncertainty. Curiosity. Determination. Anticipation. A tangled skein of emotions woven into a complicated, ever-shifting tapestry of brilliant colour that bore no resemblance to either of his previous bonds. It was both solid and fluid, flexible and sturdy.
As he followed the connection towards his Guide, it altered as he passed. Caution, anxiety, suspicion, desperation, and hope joined the weave. He expected the link to end at his Guide's shields but abruptly discovered himself inside them, surrounded by Blair's acceptance, concern, trust, and respect.
Jim's eyes flew open. He'd never, ever, been all the way inside a Guide's shields before. He didn't even know what level of bond that required; he just knew that he'd never had one that strong. Staring down at the man now leaning trustingly against him, drawn there by an instinctive embrace that he barely remembered initiating, Jim acknowledged that he'd never bonded with anyone quite like Blair either. Someone who invited him in rather than forcing through his own mental shields. Someone who treated him as an equal, who respected him as a fellow human being.
How the hell had he managed to get so lucky?
***
Blair had barely given an instant's consideration to blocking Jim outside of his shields, despite his knowledge that he was taking a risk letting him in that deeply. The release inside his shields of a strong burst of negative emotion, such as anger or even fear, would be excruciatingly painful at best. At worst, it could cause serious, lasting damage to his shielding ability.
But some instinct had told him that Jim needed that show of trust to even begin to accept a partnership between them. Blair had been operating on instinct pretty much since he'd first acknowledged the pull of a potential lifebond this morning and things seemed to be working out about as well as could be expected so far, so he'd followed instinct again. It seemed to have been the right thing to do, judging by the wonder, respect, and thankfulness that the Sentinel was now projecting.
"What level?" Jim asked in a hushed voice.
Lifting his head from its resting place on Jim's shoulder, Blair answered even more softly, "Uh, Three, I think; by definition, Four needs both anchor points to be partway inside the shields." He hadn't even attempted to reach through Jim's shields; it was far too soon for that and he might never be able to get as far inside them as Jim had been within his. It was already clear that the Sentinel had been too badly abused to open up that easily.
"So can we get out of here now?" The tone was cautious but the hope and longing came through the bond clearly.
"As soon as I call someone in to verify the bond," Blair confirmed.
The arms that had still been encircling him dropped instantly. "So what are you waiting for?"
He snorted in amusement as his Sentinel urged him towards the door. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
After all, they had a whole new life as a Sentinel-Guide pair waiting for them. Which reminded him...
"Uh, Jim? I hope you like macaroni and cheese..."
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Feedback, as always, is welcome.
Title: Forging the Connection
Series: Lifebond #1
Author: Calic0cat
Story Completed: November 2, 2004
Category: pre-slash
Pairing: J/B
Rating: R
Warnings: Swearing, implied past NCS (non-con sex)
Website: http://calic0cat.freeservers.com/
Disclaimer: Don't own Jim and Blair and the rest of the gang and I'm sure not making any money off of'em. Not making any money off the story itself either, but it at least does belong to me.
Notes: A Sentinel/Guide AU. Calling this installment "pre-slash" is stretching things but, since the series is definitely going to become slash, I think it's appropriate.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Caro, T.W., Sheila, Marion, Stacey, Rhyo, and all the other folks on SenBetas for all the editing (and titling) assistance.
#################################################
"I don't know why the hell I let you talk me into this..." Blair grumbled unhappily as he followed his friend towards the auction building. He'd sworn never to set foot in a Sentinel sales facility, yet here he was, about to attend the annual Cascade Sentinel Auction, the largest Sentinel auction in the whole star cluster.
"Because you know that the article's important," Janet replied promptly. "I really am sorry I had to get you involved, Blair, but when Lindsey got sick I couldn't think of anyone else with Guide credentials who'd be willing to help out."
"Just don't expect to stay till the whole thing's over. I don't know if I can stand being here that long," Blair admitted, his head already starting to pound with the pressure of being so near hundreds of unbonded Sentinels. Add in the fact that he was already nauseated by the very idea of the auction itself, and he knew that it was going to be one long, rough day. "And Janet - try not to get us arrested, okay?"
She laughed and promised, "I'll try."
"Please do," he said fervently. Getting arrested for demonstrating outside a Sentinel "education" facility when they were both undergrads was one thing; getting arrested for causing a disruption of the annual Cascade Sentinel Auction now would be a whole other story. He'd almost certainly lose his internship if that happened and he really needed that teaching job.
Of course, Janet was in a similar position; her employer would not be impressed if she got arrested while researching a story for the highly controversial newsletter _Free Spirit_. Cyclops Energy would not be pleased to discover that "Nellie Bly" was in fact one of their public relations advisors so Janet was very careful to preserve her anonymity in the activist community. Her position at Cyclops paid the bills and opened doors that would otherwise remain closed. Doors that provided her with critical material for her writing.
Her published articles covered a variety of social and environmental issues; Sentinels were simply her latest focus. Janet already had several articles in print dealing with the historical, ethical, and legal issues surrounding the current status of Sentinels in society. This wasn't the first time that she'd approached Blair for help with her research; his own research gave him the perfect excuse to access restricted collections at the university on her behalf, just as his status as an unbonded Guide provided the excuse for their presence here today.
The "Sentinel issue" was becoming an increasingly controversial topic. Security at the auction was tight to ensure that protestors were kept out; other than accredited Guides and their guests - one per Guide - attendance was strictly invitation-only. Blair had to present his Guide ID and submit to a bioscan to confirm his identity, then both he and Janet were subjected to a security scan. Once they were cleared, Blair reluctantly accepted his seat number and a copy of the auction catalogue.
Janet reached for the glossy-covered book but Blair tucked it under his arm and shook his head. "Later." He'd seen excerpts from past catalogues and he doubted that this one was any less degrading to the "merchandise". If they started reading the lot descriptions now, he seriously doubted that either of them could conceal their outrage. Janet would have plenty of time to study it in private later, when her reaction wouldn't get them thrown out or worse.
Janet frowned but accepted his decision. "The auction starts in less than an hour; we should go walk through..." she suggested carefully, waving towards the holding area.
Blair took a deep breath and nodded, reminding himself firmly that not only was experiencing the auction in its revolting entirety the reason that they were here in the first place but that it would look suspicious if they *didn't* check out the "merchandise". They needed to blend in so that they wouldn't be the obvious culprits when Janet's scathing article was published complete with excerpts from the auction catalogue.
Taking a moment to ground and centre, Blair tested his empathic barriers. They were taking a real beating but were still solid; hopefully they would continue to hold. He really didn't want to have to resort to taking even a microdose of Shieldeze, though he'd brought some along as a precautionary measure.
Unlike most unbonded Guides, Blair didn't make a habit of relying on chemical means to control his empathy and dull the bonding urge. He used meditation and shielding techniques instead, skills first learned as a child at his mother's knee then expanded on under the tutelage of various spiritualists, gurus, and shamans as he matured and became capable of more advanced techniques. Occasionally, he had to resort to Shieldeze - during finals week every semester, for example, when emotions on campus ran high and he was tired and stressed himself - but even then he stuck to microdoses, mere fractions of the "normal" dosage. Just enough to reinforce his overstressed shields rather than to act as an artificial replacement for them.
Even many bonded Guides had to resort to the drug at times; Blair blamed that on weak bonds. And he blamed those on the current system of matching up Sentinels and Guides.
While it was true that virtually any marginally compatible Sentinel and Guide could bond, the strength of the bond varied widely. Many were nothing more than a temporary working bond, barely functional and so frail that mere proximity to an unbonded and more compatible individual could shred the connection like so much tissue paper. Even the strongest modern bonds were nowhere near as solid as those reported in stories of pre-auction days, when bonds were formed based on mutual agreement between the two partners. And since - no matter how much natural potential a Sentinel or Guide had - a bonded pair's abilities were limited by the strength of the bond, that meant that none of the modern Sentinel-Guide pairs came close to matching the feats accomplished by their predecessors.
A wave of revulsion - Janet's reaction magnifying his own - swept over Blair as the first Sentinel, scantily clad in richly coloured silks and wearing a gem-encrusted, gold-plated control collar, came into view. Blair stumbled, momentarily disoriented by the impact of the emotions. Janet grabbed his arm, steadying him, and murmured an apologetic "Sorry."
Blair caught her hand, keeping it on his arm. She couldn't go running around broadcasting that strongly; she would draw too much attention. The crowd and the press of unbonded minds would provide a certain amount of "white noise" to dull the perceptions of other Guides but Janet was projecting too strongly for that to be completely effective. He would have to try to keep her emotions inside his own barriers - a difficult trick even for bonded Guides - and that would be a lot easier with physical contact. "I'll watch my step more carefully," he replied ambiguously, struggling to shield both his own disgust and outrage and Janet's as well.
"Me too." Janet fell silent and, after a few minutes, her emotions eased into a cool, clinical curiosity. Blair realized with relief that she'd submersed herself in her journalist persona, forcing herself to view the situation with professional detachment. With an effort, he carried out a similar feat, switching his mind over to anthropologist mode and treating the auction as some sort of bizarre ritual carried out by an obscure tribe, something that he had to observe without imposing his own moral and ethical beliefs on the experience.
It - helped. Enough so that he could be certain that no one else would pick up on his disgust and start questioning his presence here when the auction disturbed him so greatly.
It also helped that the Sentinels in the first section that they walked through were relatively calm and at ease. These were the Sentinels who had been detected at birth or in early childhood; they had spent their entire lives being prepared for this and were, for the most part, accepting of their role in society. Some projected a touch of nervousness, a shadow of discontent, or some sensory discomfort caused by the crowding, but nothing terribly disturbing. Even the bonding call projected by them was muted to a mere whisper.
Other parts of the holding area were a different story; Blair had to turn back before his shields could be breached. Not all Sentinels were diagnosed at a young age. Some were latents whose abilities had been triggered by isolation or traumatic experiences. They were accustomed to freedom and tended, understandably, to resist their new place in society. The anger, humiliation, sorrow, and pain that emanated from them was overwhelming.
But something kept drawing Blair back to that area and he was simultaneously thrilled and horrified by what he suspected it was. Bonds of convenience - the only kind officially recognized in the Central Worlds - didn't have that kind of insistence, that kind of power. But the lifebonds of legend - the very topic of his thesis - did. Stories claimed that the call of a lifebond could draw partners together over hundreds of miles.
It had been a struggle to get his dissertation topic approved; lifebonds were considered nothing more than a romantic notion and his decision to research the phenomenon's existence in modern society had met with considerable resistance from his advisors. But Blair knew that lifebonds were real - real and quietly acknowledged amongst the colony planets at the fringes of the Central Worlds' realm of authority. He'd met lifebonded partners several times during his childhood travels with his enlightenment-seeking mother. What those pairs had together was - incredible. They had a connection so deep and powerful that they functioned as if they were a single entity, abilities meshing seamlessly to reach their fullest potential.
A lifebond. The Holy Grail of Sentinel-Guide partnerships. Could he pass up a chance at that even for the sake of his deep-seated ethical objections to the way that Sentinels were treated in society?
The tug grew more insistent, the feeling of *need* intensifying. Blair made his decision and pulled the pack of Shieldeze out of his pocket. Personal ethics were all well and good but he couldn't refuse that call, couldn't turn his back on his fated partner, couldn't abandon his Sentinel, merely because he objected to the circumstances bringing them together. Tearing a small piece off the end of one Shieldeze strip, he placed it on his tongue. It dissolved in seconds.
"Blair?" Janet asked, concerned that he'd had to resort to medication so early in the day; she knew how much he hated relying on that crutch.
"Remember my thesis topic?"
"Yes..." she frowned in confusion. "What does that..."
"Keep it in mind and trust me," Blair interrupted grimly, hoping that she'd pick up the hint; otherwise she would be in for a real shock later on when he started bidding. His shields strengthened as the drug took effect and he started towards the area he'd been unable to tolerate entering before.
Towards the insistent call of a lifebond.
***
The impact of a heavy boot against his ribs jolted the Sentinel out of the zone he'd deliberately drifted into. Judging by the ache in his side, it wasn't the first kick to make contact so it was odd that it had succeeded where the others had failed. "Cut it out, 3!" a voice snapped angrily.
"Go to hell, Brackett," he answered flatly, locking his sight back onto the gleam of light reflecting off his chain and focussing his full concentration on it. He didn't have much control over his senses but one thing that he could do was deliberately zone. Zoning was the only escape he had left; maybe if he was lucky it would prove more successful than the other methods he'd attempted. Regardless of whether or not he managed to zone beyond the point of no return, even a temporary escape from reality was better than dwelling on the fate that would undoubtedly await him at the auction.
With a record that included six escape attempts, four suicide attempts, unsuccessful bonds with two different Guides, and the attempted murder of his most recent Guide - too bad Brackett had survived - he had no illusions about the type of bidder he would attract. In all likelihood, he'd end up as a test subject for a research lab. His existence since his "rescue" from the disastrous mission that had killed the rest of his Ranger squad and triggered his latent Sentinel abilities had been a nightmare; he had no desire to see how much worse it could get as a lab rat.
Jim sank into the zone so quickly and deeply that Brackett's reply didn't even register.
***
Blair suppressed a shudder as they picked their way deeper and deeper into the holding area, the scene around them changing as they proceeded. The Sentinels nearest the entrance had been reasonably content - healthy and fit, their flawless skin and perfect muscle tone emphasized by the beautiful - albeit skimpy - clothing they wore, their entire appearance designed to allure. Even their control collars were etched, embossed, or set with gems - ornamental jewellery rather than merely functional disciplinary tools. No hint of abuse was allowed to taint the showpieces of the auction.
But the Sentinels in the section that he and Janet were now walking through were different cases entirely. Blair wasn't surprised to discover that the emotional distress - unhappiness, anger, and despair - was often matched by an equally poor physical state. Signs of abuse and neglect were far from uncommon. Theoretically, all Sentinels in the auction had to pass a med-check but clearly that was little more than a token gesture.
The pull of the lifebond drew Blair towards the very back of the holding area. He faltered for an instant as he passed the consignment of ex-convicts from Cascade's penal facility, his attention momentarily caught by a well-endowed blonde whose attractiveness was marred by the hard, calculating look in her eyes. Her need for a bond called more strongly than those around her - but not nearly as powerfully and urgently as the lifebond. Blair turned away and continued on, following its call.
Finally, he halted in front of the Central Interstellar Authority's consignment. Shit. This was bad. Very bad. The CIA - among its other responsibilities - was in exclusive control of all military Sentinels, no matter what division they were nominally assigned to. And it was a well-known fact that military Sentinels left the service under one of four conditions only: dead, burnt out, physically disabled, or - very, very rarely - complete intractability. The latter was rare because of the simple fact that usually an uncooperative Sentinel would end up being in one of the previous conditions long before the military would give up on his or her "re-education" into a more tractable state. Sentinels discarded by the CIA were usually only of interest to corporate research labs for use as guinea pigs; they were simply too badly damaged to bond with anyone.
But the lifebond's draw was powerful and undeniable. Proof that, no matter how damaged his Sentinel might turn out to be, there was still room for hope.
As if the probable condition of his soon-to-be-partner wasn't a big enough concern, Blair knew that he was going to be facing another problem in the form of his mother. She was going to have a fit; Naomi *loathed* the military. It was going to take a lot of "processing" for her to come to terms with her son bonding with an ex-soldier, if she ever did.
Not that he was overly thrilled about any of this himself. A lifebond might be his Holy Grail but the circumstances in which he was discovering it were far from desirable.
Sweeping his gaze slowly over the group, Blair had difficulty locating the source of the summons that had led him here. He could still sense the lifebond's call but there were too many distractions to accurately trace it without physically following it right to the Sentinel responsible. He didn't want to resort to that; he knew enough about auctions to know that he shouldn't give away his interest in a particular individual that clearly.
His funds were far from unlimited and his next stipend from the university wasn't due till month-end. Not that such a paltry sum would go very far when he did receive it, especially since it would have to stretch to provide for two people instead of one. Money was going to be tight for a while; buying a Sentinel wasn't exactly in his budgetary plan for the semester. A Guide's first bond was subsidized by government grants but the usual application method involved applying prior to buying a Sentinel, not after the fact; it would take months for an application to be processed and funds awarded.
"I think this is a mistake," Janet frowned as she appropriated the auction catalogue from him. "But if you're determined to go through with this, I know better than to try talking you out of it."
"Thanks," he said simply. Janet had obviously figured out that he was planning to bid and, whether she understood his reasons or not, she wasn't going to try to interfere. That was the best he could hope for from her.
Flipping through the book to the beginning of the Authority's listings, she noted, "The CIA has five lots listed."
"I'm only counting four..." Blair cautiously tweaked his shields, slowly and painstakingly attempting to filter out everything save the lifebond. The Shieldeze strengthened his barriers but at the same time it made them less responsive, even at the extremely low dosage he'd taken; that was just one of the many reasons that he hated to use it.
A voice raised in anger and the high-pitched warning whine of a control collar drew his attention to the furthest corner of the enclosure assigned to the CIA consignment. All he could see was the back of a uniformed man. The man drew back his foot, administering a vicious kick to something on the floor in front of him, and Blair realized abruptly where the fifth Sentinel was.
And that the fifth Sentinel was his.
***
Jim resisted the insistent mental tug that was trying to draw him out of the zone. It wasn't Brackett - he knew all too well what Brackett's slimy mind felt like and it was nothing like this warm, bright touch - but that didn't matter. He had no intention of bonding with *anyone*; he wanted to stay zoned. Permanently.
But the damage was done; he'd been pulled partway out of the zone and a boot in the kidneys combined with a painful shock from the collar to finish the job. An involuntary gasp of pain escaped before he could bite it back.
"So, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes," Brackett snapped. "On your feet, Sentinel!"
The collar whined in warning. Jim considered just lying there and letting Brackett zap him again and again until his body finally overloaded. It probably wouldn't take much more provocation to push the CIA Guide into doing it. "Fuck you," he enunciated slowly and precisely.
The Guide's face darkened and he touched the collar's remote. Determined not to cry out, Jim bit his tongue as agonizing pain ripped through his nervous system. The collar's built-in safeguards kicked in after several excruciating moments, putting it back into standby mode. Before Brackett could trigger it again, the overhead lights blinked and a chime announced that the auction was about to start.
Brackett froze for an instant, then smirked darkly. "Is it that time already? My, my, how time flies when you're having fun." He kicked Jim again and the Sentinel involuntarily curled around the agony exploding through his ribs. "Ah well, playtime's over. Time to get back to work. Have to be sure you're all prepared for your big moment, after all. Parting will be such sweet sorrow..." With that, Brackett turned and walked away.
Lying on the cold cement, Jim closed his eyes in weary defeat. Dammit. Just when he'd been on the verge of succeeding...
Well, there was still his original plan. Opening himself up to the pain, Jim sought a zone.
Sought it and failed. That same vibrant touch that had pulled him out of his previous one refused to let him succumb again. It wasn't a bond, merely a... suggestion... of the possibility. An invitation.
A disturbingly alluring invitation. He didn't *want* to bond, dammit! He *didn't*. The only thing he wanted was his freedom. His previous attempts to reclaim it had made it clear that the only way to achieve that goal would be in death.
Besides, no sane Guide would want to bond with him anyway after reading his record. Not that it mattered, because he didn't want to bond.
No matter how much reassurance, solace, and hope the mind touching his might seem to promise.
***
Blair breathed a silent sigh of relief as the so-called Guide in charge of the CIA consignment broke off his "fun". The urge to intervene had been nearly overwhelming but he'd known better than to make that mistake. Only a superior officer had the right to interfere with a CIA Guide's treatment of a Sentinel under his charge. Any interference on his part would have been useless at best and detrimental at worst; getting himself thrown out of the auction or arrested on the spot would have done no one any good whatsoever.
Only the knowledge that this was the only way to truly help his Sentinel gave Blair the determination necessary to turn and walk away. His awareness of the as-yet-unfulfilled lifebond had strengthened with proximity and that new strength remained despite the increased separation as he headed in to take his seat for the auction. The connection wasn't nearly as powerful as an actual bond but the other man's emotions were so strong that he couldn't help but sense them. He knew exactly how far gone the Sentinel was. Knew that the other man wanted to die, that he despaired of ever gaining his freedom.
Well, Blair couldn't promise freedom - not entirely. There was no such thing as a free Sentinel under Central Worlds' law. But he could offer something as close to freedom as possible. A bonded Sentinel was indeed slave to his Guide's every whim but very few laws governed the Sentinel-Guide relationship beyond that. And most of those were open to rather - creative - interpretation. If a Guide chose to treat his Sentinel as an equal - well, there really wasn't anything to prevent him from doing so, providing that a few basic legalities were observed. And that was exactly what Blair intended to do; he wanted an equal partner, not a slave.
Of course, convincing the Sentinel of his sincerity might be a problem.
Once they were seated, Janet handed him back the open auction catalogue and Blair glanced over the photos of the five CIA lots, quickly eliminating the Sentinels that he'd gotten a good look at. Skimming the information on the remaining one, Lot B3, had him revising that "might" to "would definitely".
Previous Guides: two. Bond strength: weak, unstable. Sensory status: wild. Behavioural history: escape attempts, suicide attempts, assault on a Guide... Okay, that definitely didn't inspire confidence. On the other hand, the so-called Guide had probably deserved it. And it did indicate a decent chance that the Sentinel's spirit hadn't been completely broken.
Blair could certainly see why the CIA didn't want this Sentinel anymore.
His musings were interrupted by his companion's worried murmur. "Are you sure about this? He sounds... dangerous."
Abruptly reminded that she'd been leaning against his shoulder and reading along, Blair forced a chuckle. "Well, at least I shouldn't have a lot of competition bidding..."
Janet frowned at him. "I'm serious, Blair. Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Not really. "Of course," he assured her with a seemingly-nonchalant grin.
She didn't look very convinced but the first Sentinel entered the ring, putting an end to the discussion. Blair settled back in his seat and prepared to endure the next few hours. The prime lots would be auctioned off first while the "junk lots" - including the prison and CIA Sentinels - would be the last ones sold. He checked his shields carefully and hoped that they'd last that long without requiring another chemically-induced boost. He was going to need full control of his abilities when the auction ended if he was going to have any chance of getting through to his Sentinel and establishing enough of a connection to be allowed to take him home.
***
That slight, persistent mental connection hadn't gone away. Jim wasn't sure what to make of it. It wasn't painful or forceful, it was just - there. A quiet awareness that there was a Guide - a *compatible* Guide, probably the most compatible one he'd ever encountered - nearby. A very small part of him had to reluctantly wonder whether maybe he would have a reprieve from the labs after all. Surely a Guide wouldn't maintain even such a light link without a genuine interest in bonding?
Not that it mattered anyway because he didn't *want* to bond. He wanted to be free, even if only in death.
So why did he have to keep silencing a faint stirring of hope?
***
The crowd dwindled as the auction progressed. Bidders stayed only until the lots of interest to them were sold. A handful of representatives from research labs and a few curious observers were all that remained by the time that Blair's sole interest entered the ring.
The Sentinel was half-dragged into the ring by two of the auctioneer's assistants. He stood stubbornly motionless when released. A jolt from the control collar failed to budge him and Blair suppressed a grin of appreciation for the man's determination. Shackled and collared, stripped naked, body mottled with bruises and marked with scars, the Sentinel stood tall and defiant. The auctioneer sighed and shook his head, clearly not expecting much from this lot. "Bond bidders?" he queried automatically, not even pausing before continuing, "None? Then we'll start with corporate..."
Blair had pressed the bid button the instant that the auctioneer asked for a show of interest. Guides bidding on Sentinels for bonding purposes had priority; those bidding for other reasons - such as procuring research subjects - could only bid if there were no bond bidders willing to meet the reserve price.
The auctioneer stumbled to a halt as a low tone and a flashing light on his console drew his attention. "Uh, sorry folks, my mistake, we're starting with bond bidders after all... Let's start with the reserve bid of fifteen hundred creds..."
Another press of the bid button confirmed his acceptance of the price, then Blair waited, fingers crossed for luck, while the auctioneer made the obligatory attempt to draw another bid. His car was going to have to wait another month for repairs and they'd be eating macaroni and cheese for the rest of the month as it was. Fortunately, no more bids were forthcoming and the gavel descended mere moments later, leaving Blair the "owner" of his Sentinel.
The concept left Blair fighting a severe attack of nausea; he found the very notion of buying another human being totally repellent. Knowing that he'd had no other option - well, other than ignoring the pull of the lifebond and abandoning his partner - didn't make it any less revolting.
"Let's go," he told Janet quietly once he had his reaction under control.
She rose as he did and they silently exited the auction area, heading for the auction yard's office to confirm his purchase. "I hope you know what you're doing," Janet said grimly as they walked.
So did he.
***
He had no idea who his buyer was - only that it was a bond bidder, not a lab. The rush of relief at that development was startling; maybe he hadn't been quite as resigned to his fate as he'd tried to convince himself. Maybe, despite the pain and humiliation, he wasn't quite ready to give up and die.
The realization shook Jim sufficiently that he actually cooperated as he was prodded out of the auction ring and down a hallway. That cooperation came to an abrupt end, however, as they turned into a room and the significance of its sole furnishing dawned on him. Sheer, blind panic set in as vague memories of Brackett's repeated re-forging of their unstable bond began to surface.
It took two strong men and three numbing jolts from the control collar but they finally managed to wrestle Jim into position. His worst fears were confirmed when they shackled him spreadeagled and face-down on the bed.
His new Guide was obviously male.
Jim shuddered then forced himself to lie still, testing the shackles carefully, searching for any hint of weakness. Anything to give him even the slightest advantage in the struggle to come. He'd fought Brackett every damn time, even when he'd known that he was only making things worse for himself. That was the one small piece of dignity he'd managed to hold on to and he wasn't going to let go of it now, new Guide be damned.
***
"Good luck and be careful." Janet kissed Blair's cheek and hugged him tightly. "I'll be right here waiting when you're ready to go."
"Thanks." He hugged her back. "You know, though, you really don't have to wait; who knows how long this'll take?" They'd arrived in Janet's car this morning; his was waiting for repairs. Again. So unless she stayed, he'd have to resort to an alternative form of transport. Sure, he'd prefer getting a ride home from Janet but he wasn't quite so hard up that he couldn't afford a cab.
She just rolled her eyes and repeated, "I'll be right here when you're ready to go."
"Well, if you insist..."
"I do," she said firmly.
"Well, okay then. Thanks. I really appreciate it," Blair said gratefully, giving her another quick hug. Janet might not understand or approve of what he was doing but she was a good enough friend that she was willing to stand by him anyway.
"Just be careful," she repeated insistently before turning and walking off towards the waiting lounge.
Blair watched her go, running his fingers thoughtfully over the ungainly, unwelcome weight clasped around his wrist. He hated the ugly thing and what it symbolized. But he'd never be allowed alone in the room with his Sentinel without the remote that controlled the matching collar around his Sentinel's neck.
And of course wearing the bracelet didn't mean that he actually had to *use* it, after all.
Besides which, he might need its implicit threat to get the Sentinel's attention long enough to convince him to listen. Despite his words to Janet, he knew that his time wasn't unlimited. Either he established at least a Class Two Bond with his new Sentinel within twelve hours or they'd be pronounced incompatible and the sale would be nullified.
There were a couple of ways to accomplish the required bond but one of those methods - the quickest and unfortunately most common one - was an option that he wasn't willing to consider. That left earning at least the conditional trust and cooperation of a man who most likely had every reason not to trust *any* Guide, let alone the one who now "owned" him.
Turning to face the door he'd halted in front of, Blair pressed one palm against the scanning plate while using his other hand to type in the code he'd been issued. The door slid silently open and he stepped into the room. It closed behind him as he froze, sweeping a revolted look over the scene that greeted him. He'd had a pretty good idea what to expect but seeing the scarred and bruised body bound to the bed was still a shock. "Shit."
Muscles already quivering with tension gave an involuntary jerk at the sound of his voice. Blair cautiously lowered his shields a bit and winced as a wave of pain/humiliation/hatred/despair/fear/defiance crashed into him. "Easy, it's okay, take it easy," he murmured hastily. He picked up the blanket that lay crumpled on the floor and flicked it over the Sentinel's naked body, realizing belatedly as the man jerked violently against the shackles that a little forewarning might have been a good idea. "Sorry, just a blanket. Take it easy, I'm not going to hurt you," he soothed as he moved up into viewing range.
Sinking into a crouch beside the bed, Blair brought his face down to the same level as the Sentinel's. He locked his eyes with the other's panicky yet still defiant blue ones. "Calm down, you're going to be okay." Putting every bit of conviction that he could summon into his words, he promised, "I'm not going to hurt you. Concentrate on me and sense the truth: I am *not* going to hurt you. I'm not going to rape you. We only need to achieve a Level Two Bond and sex is not the only way to manage that." Admittedly, sex could be somewhat of a shortcut to establishing or strengthening a bond but, in the absence of a solid base to build on, its effect was short-lived.
The Sentinel didn't precisely relax but there was a slight, subtle easing of the tension in his body. His facial expression was shuttered and hard to read but Blair's empathy allowed him to sense the matching easing of the panicky despair that had gripped the man a few moments earlier. It wasn't much but it was a start.
Now to build on that beginning...
Blair had been careful not to touch the Sentinel as he spoke; he needed to establish a baseline of trust here and that included showing respect for the Sentinel's personal space. "Listen, you've got to be pretty uncomfortable. Promise to hear me out and I'll get you out of these damn things," he offered, indicating the nearest wrist shackle.
The emotions that Blair had previously sensed were rapidly being replaced by confusion. The Sentinel stared at him for several long moments then finally moved his head in a hesitant nod. "Deal."
"Cool." Blair flashed a pleased grin towards his Sentinel before moving to the foot of the bed to release the foot shackles first. He ignored the flinch that greeted his touch, knowing that it wasn't personal.
Freed of the restraints, the Sentinel warily shifted to the edge of the bed then stood, blanket gathered around him defensively. "So talk."
The belligerent tone made Blair want to grin again, though he suspected that the entire situation was creating considerable consternation in the security monitoring room. While there was no specified protocol for a Guide to follow during the post-auction bonding, he was pretty sure that his behaviour was well outside the norm.
"Okay, talk, yeah, I can do that..." Blair took a deep breath and made an effort to get his thoughts in order. There were so many things he wanted to say...
"Uh, hi, I'm Blair Sandburg. I'm a grad student over at Rainier and I'm working on my doctorate in Anthropology in the area of Sentinel Studies." Expectantly, he held out his hand.
***
Jim had no idea what the hell to make of his new Guide. That sense of connection had strengthened when the Guide had entered the room so the man was undoubtedly the source of the link he'd been feeling most of the day. The kid wasn't behaving at all like past experience had led him to expect. Not that he was complaining, of course, but the kid just kept throwing him one curve ball after another. He'd been unshackled, allowed to wrap himself in the blanket, and now his Guide was clearly expecting him to shake hands.
In other words, he was being treated like a human being for the first time since the rescue squad had realized exactly what he'd become during the time he'd been stranded with the Chopec. And while his control wasn't good enough to get a reliable reading on the kid's truthfulness, Jim was almost reluctantly inclined to believe in his sincerity.
From the moment he'd been identified as a Sentinel, he'd lost his identity and had been quite - firmly - trained to answer to an assigned designation. This Guide should be telling him what he would be known as, not asking. If he took the kid at his word...
Jim debated his options for a few moments before finally shifting his grip on the blanket to free up one hand. Extending it cautiously, he offered, "Jim Ellison."
A firm grip closed around his hand and shook it. "Hey, nice to meet you, Jim."
Jim's tension eased a bit more at this confirmation of the kid's - of Sandburg's - sincerity. A tingling rush of warmth and comfort spread from the handclasp up Jim's arm and through his body. Startled, he pulled back and the other man released his grip instantly, allowing the retreat. "What the hell?" he gasped in shocked denial as the feeling rushed through him, leaving only a pleasant warmth and a vague awareness of his new Guide's well-being in its wake. "That was..."
"A Level One... Shit." His Guide looked just as shaken as Jim felt.
Silently, Jim echoed the sentiment. Shit. He'd been aware that this Guide was exceptionally compatible with him but spontaneously bonding with a *handshake*? Okay, so it was just a Level One but still... Even his mostly-willing bond with Carolyn had taken hours of proximity and unrelenting pressure on his mental barriers to reach Level One.
As for his definitely-*un*willing bond with Brackett... Jim's mind shied away from that, blocking those memories before they could be fully revealed, repressing even the bits that had already surfaced and leaving him with only the knowledge that the experience had been bad. Very bad. And definitely nothing like what he'd just experienced.
Shock already fading, his Guide broke into a broad grin. "Whoa. What a rush." He bounced a little on the balls of his feet, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically as he suggested, "Want to try for Level Two so we can get the hell out of here and finish this conversation sans audience?"
Jim hadn't really believed the kid when he'd promised that they wouldn't need sex to achieve a Level Two but now... Now, Jim had to admit that it might be possible. But did he *want* to bond? Or did he want the bond to fail, want to be sent back to the auction block and undoubtedly end up a lab rat as previously expected?
If Sandburg was on the level, if he was going to keep treating Jim like a fellow human being... It wouldn't be freedom but it might, just maybe, be bearable...
If.
Cautiously, Jim reached mentally for that narrow thread of connection between them, searching for any tinge of darkness, any hint of deceit. All he found was vibrant, comfortable warmth - nothing like the unyielding coldness that had characterized Carolyn or the cruel, tainted shadows of the link with Brackett. But then again, this was only a Level One bond; even a Level Two wouldn't put him far enough inside the Guide's shields to be sure that he wasn't only feeling what the Guide wanted him to feel.
Taking advantage of the fact that his senses were at least semi-responsive at the moment, Jim monitored the Guide closely as he said, "You're sure we won't have to..."
The kid's enthusiasm steadied to calm certainty. "Yes, I'm sure. Sex is not a requirement for a Level Two bond."
While his senses confirmed that the statement was truthful in and of itself, Jim picked up on what Sandburg *hadn't* said. "What about higher levels?" he demanded suspiciously.
Sandburg shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Only time will tell. But..."
Jim took an immediate step backwards and shook his head. The details were mercifully clouded but he remembered enough to know that it had been Brackett's efforts to force an unstable Level Two up to a Level Three that had finally driven him to attempted murder. He couldn't take that again; even a brief, unpleasant life as a lab rat would be better.
"Ah-ah! Let me finish!" Sandburg continued hurriedly, holding up a hand to stop Jim from interrupting. "*But*... rape is never an option. If Level Two is as far as we get, I can live with that. Sure, I'd like us to be a fully bonded pair but no means no, period. I'm not going to do anything without your complete, willing, consent."
Every sense, every *instinct* was telling him that Sandburg was sincere. Add in the lure of the connection that was already in place, the knowledge that its cozy comfort couldn't help but strengthen as the bond deepened... He couldn't refuse, couldn't pass up the possibility of a life that just might be worth living.
He swallowed hard, then asked, "If not sex, then how?"
Sandburg smiled and held out his hands. "Take my hands. Relax and try to match your respiration to mine. Then just follow your instinct."
It took a minute for Jim to awkwardly knot the blanket to keep it wrapped firmly in place but then he followed his Guide's directions. Synchronising their heartbeats and breathing was surprisingly effortless and bore immediate fruit as the dull headache that had been his constant companion for so long that he'd become accustomed to its presence vanished without a trace.
The lure of the link tugged at his consciousness. Closing his eyes, he hesitantly yielded, following its draw inward.
Jim could sense the link changing. Strengthening and becoming more complex. It still radiated light and warmth and comfort but there was more there too. Excitement. Nervousness. Uncertainty. Curiosity. Determination. Anticipation. A tangled skein of emotions woven into a complicated, ever-shifting tapestry of brilliant colour that bore no resemblance to either of his previous bonds. It was both solid and fluid, flexible and sturdy.
As he followed the connection towards his Guide, it altered as he passed. Caution, anxiety, suspicion, desperation, and hope joined the weave. He expected the link to end at his Guide's shields but abruptly discovered himself inside them, surrounded by Blair's acceptance, concern, trust, and respect.
Jim's eyes flew open. He'd never, ever, been all the way inside a Guide's shields before. He didn't even know what level of bond that required; he just knew that he'd never had one that strong. Staring down at the man now leaning trustingly against him, drawn there by an instinctive embrace that he barely remembered initiating, Jim acknowledged that he'd never bonded with anyone quite like Blair either. Someone who invited him in rather than forcing through his own mental shields. Someone who treated him as an equal, who respected him as a fellow human being.
How the hell had he managed to get so lucky?
***
Blair had barely given an instant's consideration to blocking Jim outside of his shields, despite his knowledge that he was taking a risk letting him in that deeply. The release inside his shields of a strong burst of negative emotion, such as anger or even fear, would be excruciatingly painful at best. At worst, it could cause serious, lasting damage to his shielding ability.
But some instinct had told him that Jim needed that show of trust to even begin to accept a partnership between them. Blair had been operating on instinct pretty much since he'd first acknowledged the pull of a potential lifebond this morning and things seemed to be working out about as well as could be expected so far, so he'd followed instinct again. It seemed to have been the right thing to do, judging by the wonder, respect, and thankfulness that the Sentinel was now projecting.
"What level?" Jim asked in a hushed voice.
Lifting his head from its resting place on Jim's shoulder, Blair answered even more softly, "Uh, Three, I think; by definition, Four needs both anchor points to be partway inside the shields." He hadn't even attempted to reach through Jim's shields; it was far too soon for that and he might never be able to get as far inside them as Jim had been within his. It was already clear that the Sentinel had been too badly abused to open up that easily.
"So can we get out of here now?" The tone was cautious but the hope and longing came through the bond clearly.
"As soon as I call someone in to verify the bond," Blair confirmed.
The arms that had still been encircling him dropped instantly. "So what are you waiting for?"
He snorted in amusement as his Sentinel urged him towards the door. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
After all, they had a whole new life as a Sentinel-Guide pair waiting for them. Which reminded him...
"Uh, Jim? I hope you like macaroni and cheese..."
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Feedback, as always, is welcome.
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Great!
Date: 2004-11-03 11:01 am (UTC)As for stubborn muses... well, considering the quality of this story, I doubt there will be many complaints. Especially since I imagine we've all had to deal with those before.
Once again, a wonderful start to a series.
;) tag
Re: Great!
Date: 2004-11-29 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-03 04:35 pm (UTC)Best wishes and I do hope you'll continue this series--it's starting out wonderfully!
XXXOOO
Lorraine
no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 03:41 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it, thanks for the feedback!
Fantastic!
Date: 2004-11-04 12:09 am (UTC)I just love an abused and vulnerable Jim. Please keep it coming!
Thanks!
Adona
Re: Fantastic!
Date: 2004-11-29 03:43 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it and there will definitely be more...
no subject
Date: 2004-11-06 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-10 07:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-31 03:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-27 08:41 am (UTC)