A/N: This is a story – written between 1995 and 2004 - that used to be on an old geocities site that became defunct several years ago – I rediscovered it, did some minimal editing, and decided to re-post it onto .
Original A/N: This particular story idea slammed me upside the head after I hear the song "Haunting Me" by Stabbing Westward once too often. grin
This is a series of "missing scenes" from the episode Sentinel Too (both parts). [For those of you who didn't like the episodes, I apologize. I didn't like them either, but the story just wouldn't leave me alone.]
Kudos to Aislinn for putting up with me and my sporadic ramblings at odd hours (as well as beta'ing my work for me). I love you dearly.
Title: Haunting Me
Spoilers: Sentinel Too Part 1 and 2
Warnings: Minimal cussing (as in one - and it's part of the song, and I "fixed" it), though Alex has a bit of a dirty mind.
Disclaimer: The song "Haunting Me" is the property of Stabbing Westward. The Sentinel is the property of Pet Fly.
~ Everywhere I go I see your face. Every sound I hear is the sound of your voice. Why are you haunting me? Why can't I let you go? ~
Jim Ellison wiped his brow and shut the door firmly on the last of the boxes and furniture he'd managed to lug down from the loft. Trudging up the stairs, he frowned as the feeling of claustrophobia pressed ever closer upon him. Practically sprinting the last few steps into the loft, he leaned against the sturdy wood, eyes closed against the starkness of the once cheerful home.
He took a deep breath, trying to relax tense muscles and rid himself of the tightness in his chest. Instead of feeling calmer, a near manic wave of hysteria and panic swept over him. Almost without realizing it, the half-mad Sentinel began scrubbing the now-exposed floorboards and walls with a frightening intensity. It was as if he were trying to erase spots only he could sense. Where the couch had stood, one of the kitchen chairs and part of the table, and a section of flooring that extended from the kitchen to the French doors took up most of his attention and care.
Beyond reason, Ellison entered the small bedroom underneath the staircase to continue his frantic cleaning, a small portion of his mind wondering if he truly meant to erase every sign that Blair had once lived there.
~ So everything about me is a lie. At least if feels that way, when I look in your eyes. The truth scares the sh*t out of me. ~
Blair Sandburg moved across the grounds towards Hargrove Hall with none of his usual bounce or exuberance. He huddled deep into his jacket, his chin tucked below the collar, resting on his chest. Arms wrapped about his midsection did nothing to suppress the shivers that trailed in icy ripples down his arms and back, stirring the hair at the base of his skull. Shivers that had nothing to do with the current temperature.
Shuffling slowly up the steps and into the building, he never even acknowledged the two pretty TA's that passed him on their way out.
At the door to his office he stared for some moments at the hand printed sign that adorned the wood. He raised one had to tear it away - this proof that everything up to this point had been ephemeral and transitory. Then his hand clenched into a fist as he pushed his way into the office. It wasn't worth the waste of energy and, for a split second, Blair had felt that destroying the sign would have been all the Fates needed to tear away the illusions he had built up and show him just how worthless his life had been.
Leaning against his desk, the solid piece of furniture his only anchor in the upheaval his world had become, he let his pack fall to the floor with a dull thud, ignoring for once the fact that his laptop was in it, along with his life's work.
Blair settled into his chair with a weary sigh. Jim didn't trust him anymore, didn't want him around. The Guide was convinced that once the Sentinel had calmed down some the two of them would be able to sit down together and hash out their problems. But Blair - the anthropology student, observer and friend - was scared spitless that this time there would be no repairing bridges between the two of them. Jim had tossed him out and effectively cut him off from the only other source of help the young man could have turned to - the Precinct.
Leaning his head in his hands, Blair waited for Jim - hoping he wasn't waiting in vain.
~ What does it matter? What's done is done and I should get on with my life. Why are you haunting me? ~
Alex Barnes leaned back comfortably in the first class accommodations. She had the nerve gas and her freedom and was soon to become extremely rich, indeed. But two sets of blue eyes burned in her memory. The light filled with pain, anguish and hatred. The dark with compassion, sadness and resignation. She had wanted them both, but her career and their sensibilities had been the wedge between them.
Alex truly regretted killing Blair. He had been so kind and had helped her so much, despite his hectic schedule and the obvious strain he was under.
As for Jim - Alex felt her body tingle in response to the memory of those electric blue eyes. His fury had excited her and she longed to have been able to bed him - even just once. Deep inside she knew that the experience would have been beyond anything she'd ever felt before.
A part of her mourned the losses as another whispered to her that nothing was concluded as yet.
She drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Ellison had wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
~ Well I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to make myself forget. Was it something that you said, or is it all the guilt inside my head? Why are you haunting me? ~
As he stood outside the ancient temple, watching as Alex was driven away to spend the rest of her life in an asylum, Jim could feel Blair's presence behind him.
Not just physically - he could hear Blair's heartbeat calming from its previously rapid pace. His lungs no longer strained for air. Jim could detect the scent of Blair's herbal shampoo, as well as the faint stink of fear and drying sweat. Even from a few paces away, the Sentinel could feel the heat emanating from the warm - ALIVE - body of his best friend. From the corner of his eye, Jim could see the younger man; the almost imperceptible motion as Blair rocked slightly on the balls of his feet, his hands stuffed deep into his jeans pockets, a solemn expression on his normally laughing face.
But Jim could also feel Blair as a warm presence somewhere in the back of his mind. A link had been forged when panther and wolf had merged. Jim had thrown out an end and Blair had willingly taken it and followed it back to the land of the living and his Sentinel.
Jim winced inwardly, recalling that their newly forged link had not stopped Jim from going after Alex in a haze of instinct and lust. An instinct that nearly got his Guide killed yet again. He wondered if that last act of betrayal had cost him the very friendship his had sought so hard to hang on to.
Blair's broad palm came to rest on his back and the Sentinel felt himself relax as the heat spread from the contact point and throughout his body, loosening muscles so tight that he thought they would have snapped. He rolled his head slowly, stretching out his neck, groaning as vertebrae popped with the motion.
He turned to say something to Blair and found himself caught by twin sapphires. He nearly lost himself in the range of emotions that stormed there. For a moment neither spoke. Jim drew a shuddering breath. "You okay, Chief?"
Blair held his gaze for what felt like an eternity before answering. Slowly, he shook his head. "No."
Jim felt his chest squeeze painfully at the somber tone, sure he'd lost his friend for good this time.
Blair never broke physical contact, as if trying to convey a message to the Sentinel through touch, a message Jim tried desperately to receive. "But we will be."
Jim blinked, unsure he'd heard correctly. "Will we?"
Slowly and deliberately, Blair nodded, his gaze still locked on Jim. "If you want. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
And the ice in Jim's gut began to thaw.