The Sentinel and all related characters are the property of Pet Fly Productions, UPN and Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is the property of the author. ________ A Blessed Protector's Thoughts on Flight I open my eyes to find myself surrounded by the sights and sounds and smells of the jungle. I try to be surprised, but a part of me expected to see this again. I'm back at the campsite where Sandburg and I spent the night while searching for Simon and Daryl. Out of curiosity I glance to my side and a wave of relief washes over me when I see the young man curled up in his sleeping bag. I'm not sure why exactly Blair's in this dream - vision, whatever - when he wasn't in the last one, but I can't deny that I'm glad he's here. A low rumble comes from behind me. There's no sound, not even to me, but the Panther pads out of the trees and approaches me. There's no shock, as there was the first time I met my spirit guide. He's been popping up all over the place in the week since Blair and I got back from Peru and I've become used to him. Not quit happy about the whole thing, but that's another thing entirely. The Panther rubs against my leg and swipes at my hand with his tongue. I run my hand over its head and neck before it saunters away as casually as it came. It approaches the campfire and dips its head to nuzzle against the sleeping form. Blair, or the vision of Blair to whatever, doesn't move except to stir a bit. The Panther looks content and settles down beside Blair, resting its head on his shoulder and looking at me with those piercing yellow eyes. Something about the scene just looks so... right? "Come on." The voice takes me by surprise and I turn quickly. Standing there, where the Panther emerged from the forest, is the other me, the Sentinel, I like to think of him as. He gives me a tolerant glance and gestures for me to come with him. "The Panther will guard him. Come with me." He heads back into the forest. I spare a quick glance at Sandburg, checking him with sight and scent and hearing and finding him as I expected, asleep, healthy and oblivious. I wonder again why I see Sandburg, and why I see him here, but there's no way to get an answer to that without hearing what the Sentinel has to say to me. I leave Blair, trusting the Panther to keep him safe. The Sentinel leads me deeper and deeper into the jungle, and it becomes more and more familiar with every step we take. "Chopec territory," I say and the Sentinel nods abruptly. "Why are we here?" He gives me a glance that at once makes me feel immensely stupid and incredibly dense. "You were reborn here." "Reborn? You mean this is where my senses emerged? I guess you can look at it that way." Frankly it had never occurred to me, but now it made a kind of sense. I'm sure as hell not the same person I was when I first entered this village. Or even the same person I was when I left it. The Sentinel laughed once. "Something like that," he agrees, but I get the feeling I've said something that amused him even more. It's great to know that I amuse myself so much. Myself. It's kind of weird to face myself like this, but that's how I see it. Like I'm me, Jim Ellison, the cop, person, everyday guy, and he's the rest of it. The senses, the Sentinel. The Blessed Protector? A smile tugs at my lips. No. That's just me. "Why are we here?" "You need to learn one thing before you continue. This is as good a place as any to learn it. Besides," he continued, "part of the lesson has been learned here. The rest might as well follow." "What lesson?" What had I learned here? I'd gotten a little practice at the crossbow, but besides that... "Is this about my choice? I already agreed to the Sentinel thing. I've made my choice and I don't intend to back away from it." "The Sentinel has chosen to accept his gifts," he corrects me. "Has he chosen to accept his responsibility?" I stop and waited for him to face me. "Of course I have." "Have you? And what is your responsibility?" "To protect the tribe. To keep people safe." "You're half right," he sighs. "Come on. You have *one* responsibility that always has and always will come before and above all other things in this world. And you know what it is every bit as well as I do. You know *who* it is." For maybe all of a second, I don't get it. Then his words back at the campsite come back to me. "Blair." The revelation hits me and I say it, trying the sound of it, the idea of it. "Protecting Blair." "Protecting the Guide," he tells me in a fervent whisper. "Protecting your soul." "When he said he was leaving, my senses went off-line," I say wonderingly. "When I followed the Panther and came here, the first time, Blair wasn't here." "He had to make his own choice. He chose as you did." "That's why he turned down the offer. For the Sentinel thing?" It hurts to think that. Blair told me this was about friendship, and the warmth that revelation had brought me was the best, the happiest I had felt in a long time. If this was really just for his dissertation... "Don't be an idiot," the Sentinel says sharply. "Your duty is to protect the Guide. Why? Because he aids with your senses? Don't kid yourself. We both know that you won't give these senses up, but you won't complain if they go away. Why is the Guide so important to you?" "He's my friend! Of course he's important to me!" The Sentinel snorts. "Simon is your friend. What would happen to you if he died? What if you hadn't made it here in time?" "I would have grieved." "And moved on," he says gently. "What if Blair were to die? What if Lash had given him too much of the drug? What if Kincaid had gotten away? What if Brackett had gone through with his threat to kill Blair? What would have happened to you then?" "I-" but the words won't leave my mouth, and my heart freezes in my chest. The idea of losing Blair fills me with a cold, dark panic that's a physical pain in itself. "What if he dies tomorrow?" The Sentinel asks quietly. "What if one of his students decides he doesn't like his grades, or you run into someone dangerous on the job? What then?" "Don't," I manage. "Don't. Stop it. That's not going to happen. I won't let it. I've already promised to keep him safe or die trying." The smile on his face is genuine. "We are his Blessed Protector. He gave you the title, and you have the chance to turn it down. That was the first step toward making your choice. The second step is now." "What do I have to do?" I ask. The panic is receding, the images of Blair, dead and dying, are fading away and it's possible to breathe again. "I told you, I'll do anything to keep him safe." I shake my head. "Why all this? I've known for a long time that I'd die protecting him if that's what it took. What more do you need me to say?" He grips my shoulder tightly, and holds my gaze with his. Ice blue, hard. Familiar. "Why would you die to protect him? Why can you accept that Simon will die one day, but just thinking about the same thing happening to Blair drives you into a panic? Tell me that, Sentinel." "I-" The blue eyes hold too much truth, and his earlier words come back, running through my mind. "He's my Guide," I say, and I can hear the wonder in my own voice. The word filled with more meaning now than ever before. Blair called himself my Guide once. I wonder if he had any idea. "He's the other half of my soul. Without him, I..." My voice falters, but I know this is the important part. The part I have to accept. "Without him I can't survive. Not as a Sentinel. Not as Jim Ellison. He's everything to me." The grip on my shoulder gentles, and the ice in the eyes seems somehow warmer. "Scary as hell, isn't it?" I draw a ragged breath. "Terrifying." He smiles suddenly, the expression crossing his face and destroying the last of the ice. "It's wonderful isn't it?" The warmth fills me, curling through my chest, exhilarating in it's intensity. "It's beautiful." **** The sheets are cool against my skin, the pillow bunched up beneath my head. I roll over and glance at the alarm clock. Three in the morning. I listen, blocking out the traffic and the people and the thousand other sounds that come with life in the city, cutting through them all for the one thing I want to hear. In the room beneath me I hear Blair's heartbeat and the soft gentle sound of his breathing. Hearing isn't enough, though, not right now, not after everything that's happened tonight. I roll out of bed and go down the stairs. I pause at the door of his room, smiling at what I see. The Panther is still there, just as in my dream, curled around Blair, its head resting on Blair's shoulder. It raises its head as I come into the room. I place my hand on it's head. "I'm here now. You can go." It purrs contentedly and carefully climbs off the bed. It pads toward the door, and fades away as it steps through. I kneel beside the bed, one hand brushing thick curls away from Blair's face. My hand drifts down to rest against the back of his throat, feeling the pulse beating strong. I place my other arm above his head and rest my head on the blanket. I lean over and gently press a kiss to his temple. "Thank you, Blair," I whisper softly. "Thank you for choosing friendship." End