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Welcome to the Sentinel Angst list where a requirement
of
membership
is to post a story, snippet, poem, or drawing at least once every two months
that has some element(s) of smarm, angst, or hurt/comfort. Some stories
and bits posted are exclusive to the Sentinel Angst list. To whet your
appetite, here are a few of the exclusive pieces (some in part and some
in whole) posted to the List. We have a web page (coming soon) that will
feature all of the exclusive (and some non-exclusive) stories posted to
the list, but that page will only be accessible by members.
Stories on this page:
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The Sidewalk Scene by Hephaistos
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Jim and Blair continued walking, discussing the pros and cons of a
new
Fenway Park and how it might change the luck of the Boston Red Sox,
when a
giant clown jumped out at them from an alley.
"Hey!" growled the Sentinel, reaching for his gun. He considered
clowns to
be the lowest form of life, lower even than an amoeba in a polyester
suit.
The clown remained unintimidated and proceeded to squirt Jim in the
eye
with a plastic daisy.
"Hey, Mom," Blair said, giving the clown a hug. "You back to dating
Howard
again?"
The Sidewalk Scene by DawnC (Really written by Hephaistos)
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Jim and Blair continued walking, discussing the benefits of having
Judge
Benton presiding over the Swermer Case. Benton was definitely
aware of the
many idiosyncracies of the U.S. Constitution and generally sided with
the
prosecution whenever possible. Foe to criminals, friend to the
police.
Jim respected her a great deal. Plus she had a red-headed daughter
named
'Louisa' who was not hard on the eyes.
"So from what I've read, Jim, we have precedence from Gilman vs... Jim?
Yo, Jim?" Blair said, stopping and looking at the Sentinel, a small
smile
on his face.
"I'm not zoning, Sandburg," Jim sighed, annoyed.
"Not in the Sentinel sense, Ellison. You're thinking about *Lou-eeeeee-za*
again, aren't you?" Blair grinned. His grin faded to a
look of surprise
and then pain when a small 'pop' sounded in Jim's ears and a pool of
red
blossomed on Blair's shirt, just inches below where his heart pumped
life-giving blood through his body. The detective gaped as the
younger man
looked down in disbelief and then collapsed into his Sentinel's arms.
Jim
sank to the ground, horrified, cradling the weight of his partner as
if he
were a priceless artifact. In the distance, the detective barely
registered someone dressed like a clown running away, the big shoes
make
ironically funny slappy noises against the pavement.
(Oh yeah, and while they waited for the ambulance, a gang of thugs came
by
and beat Blair up while forcing Jim to watch. Which might not
have been so
bad if the old lady hadn't come by next and, before Jim could stop
her,
injected Blair with a deadly virus that Jim would have only 24 hours
for
which to find a cure. Who knew Lash had a Great Aunt Bessy?)
The Sidewalk Scene by Dr. Seuss
(Really by Hephaistos!)
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As Jim and Blair walked down the street,
They talked about some things to eat,
Jim said burgers, fries, and shakes,
Blair said vegies and rice cakes.
When suddenly they spied a clown,
"A clown!" they said. A clown downtown?
*He must be lost,* thought Blair, *poor guy.*
*He hurts my Guide,* thought Jim, *he'll die!*
Redemption
By Calie
"I feel like you betrayed me. Like you betrayed my trust."
The words cut like broken glass as I force them past the constriction
in my throat.
I maintain my vigil at the balcony door, my body so rigid with tension
that I fear a
fractional increase in pressure will snap me in half. Tendrils of cold
air waft off
the large expanse of glass, washing my burning face with a welcoming
coolness.
The pounding of my heart, of both our hearts, is muted by the soft
patter of falling
rain.
"I know. I'm sorry." The whispered words barely reach my ears. "I'm...I'm
sorry
that...I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you, man." I sense the fluttering
movement of air behind me as a ragged breath is inhaled, then slowly
released.
"You've got to believe that."
I keep my eyes focused on a faint, white light, barely visible across
the dark bay.
If only, through sheer willpower, I could magically transport myself
over there,
anywhere, really, but here--somewhere free of conflict...free of
emotion...somewhere safe....
"Are you going to be able to get past this?" The soft voice is choked
with
emotion.
"I don't know."
I hear Blair's breath catch, hear him swallowing back his tears, feel
the moisture
burning my own eyes. Sharp knives tear at something vital and unprotected
deep
within me. Resolutely, I wall off the pain, just as an abscess is isolated
by the
system to protect the organism from further injury.
"Okay, I guess I'll...I'm sorry." The resigned sigh is followed by the
shifting of
feet, the irregular creaking of the floorboards, the metallic grating
of the turning
doorknob.
He's leaving.
The rain-streaked view of the bay disappears from my blurred vision
as images
from my life flash through my memory.
The pointless fights with Steven. The hurt on his once trusting face
when he felt
the sting of his big brother's betrayal. The lost opportunities for
mutual support.
The fifteen wasted years it took to begin to heal those ugly, unnecessary
wounds.
The scars that will never be completely erased.
The constant disappointment in my father's eyes. His anger at yet another
infraction of the rules. Harsh words of contempt. Relentless criticism.
Unattainable standards. The lesson that love came only at an impossibly
high
price: perfection.
The deep, futile aching for my mother after she left...for her soft,
gentle touch, for
the dimly remembered sense of unconditional love.
The helpless impotence at my failure to save my broken marriage.
Endless, lonely nights staring at the ceiling, wondering at the emptiness
of my
life...the chill in my soul.
Unoiled hinges squeak as the front door slowly opens.
Sounds flood the loft: the blare of the television from the apartment
in the next
building; the clatter of pots in the restaurant across the street;
the swoosh of tires
on wet pavement; the mournful cry of a foghorn, a solitary sentinel
on a
windswept jetty, telegraphing its warning of imminent destruction....
Even as my own world is tossed on stormy seas, unable to evade the deadly
shoals
waiting to rip it to pieces.
The words arise, unbidden, from some hidden corner of my heart.
"Sandburg, wait."
~~~ end of peak ~~~
Wisdom Bites
By Ruby
(posted complete to the list, but posted in part here to tease you)
~~~~~~~~~~~
Jim's hand inched warily over to the pile of magazines stacked on the
table next to him. He had been waiting patiently for enough patients
to leave so he could sneak a peak at the magazine on top. No, not
the 1996 Field and Steam. Jim was after bigger game -- the Cosmopolitan.
Particularly, the article in the Cosmopolitan which told about 30 Erogenous
Zones of Women of which he believed he had only personally charted 20.
It was a fact finding mission he was on, he told himself -- simply doing
research for the betterment of all women -- or at least the ones he dated.
Glancing over toward the receptionist, he cast a look at the clock.
Sandburg had been in there for an hour and a half. Jim's
ass was getting sore and he was bored.
Still, it was the least he could do. It wasn't like Sandburg was going to drive himself home after the surgery. Not that getting impacted wisdom teeth removed was death-defying, but with Sandburg you never knew.
"Almost there," he whispered to himself. Jim figured if he put the magazine
inside the Field and Stream no one would be the
wiser. Just as his hand reached out for the magazine a soft voice said
"Excuse me." Jim looked up into warm brown eyes and felt his face go a
deep shade of scarlet.
"I think that's mine. I left it here while I got my teeth cleaned."
The woman smiled at him and Jim thought if the floor could
open up and swallow him at that moment he would go peacefully into
the darkness.
The woman looked at him and gave a sigh and a sad little shake of her head as she left. Jim grimaced - he knew what she was thinking. "Great, she probably thought I was looking at the fashion layouts."
One of the dental assistants came into the waiting room and approaching him. "Are you here with Mr. Sandburg?"
"Yes," Jim replied. "Is he ready to go home now?"
She smiled at him. "Well, he thinks he is, but we'd like to wait a little longer for the anesthesia to work its way out of his system more. You can go back and sit with him if you like."
Jim followed her back to a dimly lit room where Sandburg lay on a vinyl covered bed on his side, a silver bowl at his face.
"What's that for?" Jim asked.
"Well, the anesthesia can make you feel a little nauseated so that's really just a precaution. I should also warn you that Mr. Sandburg may wake up feeling happier or sadder than usual. It's just a side effect of the drugs. Not to worry, though. It wears off quickly." She smiled at him and turned and left the room.
Jim sat down in a chair by the bed. Blair's eyes twitched open and blearily looked at him. His face was swollen and Blair's cheeks were puffed out from what was probably pieces of cotton wadding. Blair smiled around the cotton and mumbled, " 'im?"
"Hey, Sandburg, how's it going?" Jim asked. His gut clenched a little. Seeing Sandburg anywhere near a doctor's office usually was fairly upsetting, but this was just the dentist. Still, Jim could see spots of blood on Blair's face and, as he looked, they seemed to grow in size and dimension until it was all he could see.
"'im!!!" Sandburg yanked on Jim's hand. "'on't 'one on 'e."
"What??" Jim tried to figure out what Sandburg was saying. "Oh, no I wasn't zoning! C'mon Sandburg, you know I don't zone anymore," he lied. At that moment Blair attempted to sit up, groggily pushing himself up from the bed.
Jim tried to push him back down. "C'mon Blair, the nurse wants you to rest a little while, let those drugs get out of your system."
"Uh-uh," Blair shook his head. "Wanna go 'ome, now!"
"Look, just rest a little more and then we'll go home, ok?" Jim attempted reasoning with Sandburg in a calming voice that he hoped would settle Blair down. "Just a few more minutes, Chief."
"'ope, go 'ome, now!" Blair pushed himself to his feet and started to weave his way to the door.
"Sandburg!" Jim hissed through his teeth as he leapt to follow. "C'mon, give me a break here."
Blair turned around to flash a grin as he waved his hand toward Jim and narrowly missed hitting the side of the door. Jim grabbed him by the arm.
"Chief, can't you do anything my way at all??" Jim pleaded, knowing it was useless. Sandburg had a single-mindedness and, like Lassie, was bound and determined to return home.
"'ope," Blair was giggling now and reached up to Jim's face and put his finger on Jim's nose.
Jim grabbed the offending digit and ground out, "Blair, just this once, how about we do things my way and you go back and lay on the bed, okay?" Jim looked at Blair and gave him his best placating smile.
Blair's expression suddenly changed. Tears arose in the blue eyes and he asked, "'ou don't 'ant me to go 'ome 'ith 'ou?" His face started to crumple.
"Oh, sweet Jesus, Blair, don't do this to me," Jim whispered to himself.
Thinking up something quickly, Jim said, "Well, of course I want you home,
Blair, but why not wait until you feel a little better? Then we'll
gohome." Jim knew his reasoning not
going to work even as he said the words and looked around for someone,
anyone to help.
Blair sniffed and then started paying an inordinate amount of attention
to his hand. Jim figured this was a good time to get the
nurse's attention and was relieved when she ran over to them.
"Oh, I don't think he should leave yet," she said. "We like patients to stay at least awhile longer."
"Well, miss, what you'd like and what Mr. Sandburg would like are two different things. Can we just get the list of instructions for his aftercare and I promise I'll stay with him at home until this wears off?"
Blair grinned at her and his puffy cheeks and angelic face must have swayed her because the sternness in her eyes melted and she grinned back at him. Then she looked up at Jim and he thought that, just maybe, there was a spark of interest in her brown eyes.
As he was about to release the patented Ellison charm on her, Blair
leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, "'im and I 'ive
together," with the largest grin he could muster around the wad of
cotton.
Jim winced. The nurse just smiled and patted Blair on the arm and said,
"That's nice, dear. I'll go get your instructions for your
care." She glanced at Jim and sighed, shaking her head as she walked
away.
Jim rolled his eyes, thinking that knowing all 30 erogenous zones wouldn't help him in the least if he kept hanging out with Blair, who was now paying an inordinate amount of attention to a cheesy painting of a barn on the walls.
"'dis is pretty." Blair said, stroking the painting with his hand.
The nurse came back with the instructions. "Remember," she said. "No hot or cold foods, keep the extractions packed and you can expect a little nausea, so be prepared. We've included some more gauze for Blair and he'll probably sleep a lot. Give him these pills for the pain and you can expect a little swelling and bruising. Some people bruise more than others." She smiled at Blair. "Take good care of him, Mr. Ellison."
Blair grinned back. Jim thought he looked like a demented squirrel with the gauze stuffed in his cheeks, but he imagined Blair saw himself as the Casanova he was.
"Ok, Chief, to the truck and home," Jim said grabbing for Blair as the young man drunkenly wove his way toward the elevator.
"'et's go for a 'ide!" Blair rushed into the elevator ahead of him, happily pushing most of the buttons before turning to Jim and grinning. Jim groaned when he saw that they would be stopping on every single floor between the sixth and the lobby.
"Sandburg, I'd kill you but you wouldn't feel it and I want you to,"
Jim growled. Blair just grinned at him and Jim felt himself
helplessly grinning back.
"God, what a goof you are, Sandburg. But, as my Grandmother always said, 'You're laughing now, but you'll be crying soon.'" Jim had always wondered what the hell the old woman meant by that, but now was not the time for reflection. Now was the time to get one snookered anthropologist to the truck and home.
~~~~~ end of sneak peek ~~~~~~
Snippet - #4 by JAC
(semi-death story)
Jim brushed an errant curl away from Blair's
forehead, glad to see no pain reflected in his best friend's gaze.
He purposely avoided looking at the several inches of rebar that protruded
up through Blair's chest. Blood pooled more and more around the metal
rod with each beat of Blair's heart, and streamed down into the dirt
of the construction site. The blood was deep red
in color.
It had been dumb luck that the perp had tripped
over his own shoelaces and knocked Jim off balance. Blair,
ever mindful of his Sentinel, had rushed forward to steady him. Unfortunately,
in the effort to right themselves, Jim and the thief had knocked Blair
over the lip of the fresh dug construction pit, and back first onto a rebar
prong.
Blair gasped suddenly, pink froth bubbling
from his lips. He tried to focus his eyes, tried to locate Jim through
the greying haze.
"Shhhhh Blair, take it easy. The
ambulance is on its way. Try to breathe small, simple breaths."
Jim whispered into his ear. `Where the hell was the ambulance?
Didn't they know his partner was dying?'
"Ji.....immm." Blair wheezed, more froth
spilling down his cheek. "How....how bad?"
He thought about lying. He really did.
But Blair would know. His senses were sharper than a Sentinel's when
it came to a full out lie.
"It's bad Chief." He stroked his friend's
jawline gently. "But don't you worry. We've been through worse.
" He couldn't think of any thing worse at the moment, but that wasn't
important right now.
Blair's blue eyes caught his in a probing
gaze, searching for deception. Finding none.
"Can't feel.....can't...." He gasped.
Jim grabbed his hand and squoze it, holding
it up where Blair could see. He could feel tears boiling just below his
lower lid.
"Can you....can you....save...me?"
Agony erupted in Jim's stomach. He couldn't
speak. He couldn't move. Blair's hand spasmed in his, and he clutched
it to his chest, holding it against him as if it were his only link to
sanity.
"Jim......" Blair called softly.
Jim swallowed hard and for the first time
LOOKED at the rebar. He studied the angle, and Blair's position on
the ground. He listened to Blair's heart, and he listened to the
rattle in Blair's chest. Both were getting progressively weaker.
"Jim.....pl...please...."
Tears cascaded down Jim's face as he whispered.
"No."
"Oh." Blair replied after a long few
seconds. "Oh." He said again.
If you want to read the rest of these stories and more seen only on the SentinelAngst list, well, you'll just have to subscribe. *grin*
