Pandora's Box
A long time ago, I wrote Ad Libitum. ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN
This is the sequel
Pandora's Box.
Jim/Blair, Alex/Naomi
( Chapters 1-3 ) ( Chapter four ) ( Chapter Five ) ( Chapter 6 ) ( Chapter 7 ) ( Chapter 8 ) ( Chapter 9 )
A discussion of rain... and weeds... and government conspiracies moving in shadows.
~10~
Blair stood at the window and looked out of the gray sky and at the rain. It was as if the clouds couldn't decide whether they really had their hearts in it. It would pour one second, and the next the rain would taper down to a mere drizzle. Sentinels. They had sentinels.
Blair had been shocked when the FBI agents he talked to about Alex had gotten the Bethesda doctors to call him. For some reason, he grown to think of Jim is someone unique. Even after Alex appeared, Blair hadn't expected to find more sentinels. Realistically, it made sense that sentinels had joined the military. Sentinels did have protective instincts. At least, Blair assumed they did. At this point he was working off of one historical document, and two confirmed live case studies. At least fifty percent of his case studies were a little light on the protective instincts part of being a Sentinel. Or maybe it just took Naomi to make Alex want to protect anything. At this point, Blair figured he was too close to the problem to untangle that one.
However, now he had three more sentinels. These weren't numbers and medical data on a piece of paper the Bethesda doctors faxed over to him. These weren't theoretical case studies that he consulted on. These weren't data for his dissertation, men who he wasn't even sure whether they qualified as sentinels or not. These three were real sentinels. Jim recognized them as sentinels, and even more problematically, they recognized Jim.
They recognized him too well.
Blair shook his head. Watching Jim interact with these new men could inspire a whole new dissertation. Blair just didn't have the energy to write it.
“The rain is beautiful.” Señor Padilla Rivera walked in the room.
“Totally. Is Jim…?” Blair looked to see whether Jim was following Señor Padilla Rivera. Jim had promised to stay with the third Sentinel, but this whole situation was getting so surreal that Blair wouldn't blame Jim if his protective instincts drove him back to Blair’s side.
“He still speaks to the one who cannot wake.”
Blair nodded. It killed him to see a Sentinel so lost in a zone that he slipped farther and farther into a coma. He'd tried everything. He'd sat at the man's bedside and called to him. He'd had the man's family come in. He'd had the staff change the clothing and the bed sheets and the soap that was used in the laundry.
After a long pause, Padilla Rivera continued. “Señor Ellison was concerned that you would not sleep without encouragement.”
Blair snorted. “I promised him that I would come back to the room, I never promised that I would sleep.”
“Did you not agree to rest?”
“Define rest.” Blair gave Señor Padilla Rivera sharp smile. The man gave a little laugh.
“You are not one I would verbally spar with. But then, I do not plan to verbally spar with either you or Señor Ellison. I am very grateful for everything you have done for these men.”
“We haven't done that much.” Blair wished he could wave some magic wand and claimed have all the answers, but failing one out of your three patients wasn't exactly an impressive statistic, and all Blair's theories were failing the third Sentinel.
“You have. We had three dying men. Now we have two men who stand and walk and speak of feeling human again. And one of them has even managed to stop looking lovesick when he mentions your name.” Padilla Rivera got a twinkle in his eye when he said that. Jim had been a little less amused when both Jimenez-Ramiro and Vega showed a tendency to want to trail after Blair. Oh, Jim had laid down the law and both men kept their distance physically, but only the arrival of Cabo Feo Morales had stopped Vega from overtly and rather obnoxiously coveting Blair. “This business of having a guide, it is more significant than I thought. The doctors at Bethesda, they did not mention this part of your research.”
“Yeah, well I'm not entirely sure how much of my research their listening to or even believing.”
“Then they are more fools.” Señor Padilla Rivera was firm on that. “Will you and Señor Ellison stay long?”
“Man, I hope not. No offense, because you have a beautiful country, but I really am sick of the hospital. And if Jim rags on me about my heart condition one more time, I'm going to…” Blair stopped, not even able to come up with a consequence serious enough to show how frustrated he was. Getting lectured about health from a man who considered Wonderburger the sixth food group was testing his patience.
Señor Padilla Rivera laughed. “You will forgive him,” he predicted.
Blair probably would. He looked back out the window at the gray world in the falling rain. Señor Padilla Rivera moved closer so that he flanked the other side of the window.
“My wife is afraid of the rain,” he commented in what seemed like a non sequitur. “Whenever it rains, she speaks of all of the weeds that are sure to follow.”
Blair frowned. “Yeah, but you're going to get a lot more grass and flowers tree growth, too.”
“You see, I knew you would understand. I love my wife, but she is one who sees what is wrong. The rain brings great weeds, but it brings greater beauty.” Padilla Rivera's face was too serious for the subject. Actually, the subject was too ridiculous for the man to even bring up, much less take so seriously.
“We aren't talking about rain, are we?”
Padilla Rivera drew in a large breath. He seemed to think about that answer for a long time. “I am very late turning in certain reports to my superiors. I am afraid that I am well known for my dilatory habits when it comes to paperwork.”
Blair raised his eyebrow and looked at Señor Padilla Rivera. From the man's expression, he was trying to say something pretty important, but Blair was not putting the pieces together. “Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the recent heart attack or the near drowning experience, but I need a few more dots in this connect the dots game,” he admitted.
“Rain brings change, new growth. It is very exciting.”
“Ah.” Change. That's what he was talking about. Señor Padilla Rivera was talking about the metaphorical rain of sentinels who’d recently come into Blair's life. “You worry that there will be some weeds.”
“With rain, there are always weeds. It is the way of life. Americans, sometimes I think you must have very happy lives because so often you look for flowers to grow when there are no weeds. But flowers cannot grow without rain, and rain cannot fall without weeds.”
So Señor Padilla Rivera was warning them about weeds. And he was also warning Blair that he was particularly late in his reports. Two and two were adding up to something rather unpleasant. “I am really missing home,” Blair said cautiously, still not 100 percent sure he was tracking this conversation. “I think I might ask Jim about getting us a couple of plane tickets up North.” Blair watched Señor Padilla Rivera's face, and the sudden look of relief told Blair everything he needed to know. The man was avoiding filing paperwork, because he wanted to make sure one of his bosses didn't find out about Jim until after they were safely back in the States. Blair got a cold shiver down his back.
“I understand how you would miss home. When one misses home, it is best to return as quickly as possible,” he said with a nod.
“No joke.” Blair was starting to think they should be on the plane now.
Señor Padilla Rivera leaned in and patted Blair on the shoulder and the way the two men who'd grown familiar with each other might. “I am most honored to have known you Señor Sandburg.”
“The honor’s mine”, Blair said honestly. “There aren't enough men in this world who are willing to risk everything just to help someone else.”
“Enough? Perhaps not. But I like to believe that there are many of us.” Señor Padilla Rivera gave him a warm smile before turning and walking out of the room. Blair was still staring at the doorway, wondering just how deep the shit was going to get, when Jim walked in the room.
“Oh man,” Blair blurted, “am I glad to see you. Señor Padilla Rivera…”
“I know, Chief. I heard what he said. I followed him back to the room.”
“But you were going to stay with…” Blair stopped. The sympathy, the horrific sympathy on Jim's face said everything Blair needed to know. The world had one fewer Sentinel, and Blair had been absolutely helpless to do anything.
“It wasn't your fault,” Jim quickly offered. “You did everything you could.” Jim rushed forward and caught Blair in a bear hug, he held Blair so close that Blair could hear their twin heartbeats, almost as if he were the Sentinel. Tears prickled as his eyes, which was stupid because he had never known the man. Hell, he couldn't even remember his name. That man had a mother and a father or maybe a wife somewhere. They had a right to cry over him. Blair didn't. Still, he could feel his breath catching his lungs.
“It's okay,” Jim crooned. “It's okay, Chief.”
It wasn't, though.
“We'll grieve for him later,” Jim promised. “We'll both grieve for him. But I need you to hold it together, Chief. Señor Padilla Rivera is right; it's time for us to head home.”
Blair nodded, agreeing even if he couldn't get the words past the lump in his throat. Once more, he failed to help a Sentinel. Why was it that the profound gratitude of the two men who had recovered didn't fill the hole in his soul created by the death of one man?
Jim continued to croon, his arms strong around Blair, and Blair leaned into that strength and cried.
This is the sequel
Pandora's Box.
Jim/Blair, Alex/Naomi
( Chapters 1-3 ) ( Chapter four ) ( Chapter Five ) ( Chapter 6 ) ( Chapter 7 ) ( Chapter 8 ) ( Chapter 9 )
A discussion of rain... and weeds... and government conspiracies moving in shadows.
~10~
Blair stood at the window and looked out of the gray sky and at the rain. It was as if the clouds couldn't decide whether they really had their hearts in it. It would pour one second, and the next the rain would taper down to a mere drizzle. Sentinels. They had sentinels.
Blair had been shocked when the FBI agents he talked to about Alex had gotten the Bethesda doctors to call him. For some reason, he grown to think of Jim is someone unique. Even after Alex appeared, Blair hadn't expected to find more sentinels. Realistically, it made sense that sentinels had joined the military. Sentinels did have protective instincts. At least, Blair assumed they did. At this point he was working off of one historical document, and two confirmed live case studies. At least fifty percent of his case studies were a little light on the protective instincts part of being a Sentinel. Or maybe it just took Naomi to make Alex want to protect anything. At this point, Blair figured he was too close to the problem to untangle that one.
However, now he had three more sentinels. These weren't numbers and medical data on a piece of paper the Bethesda doctors faxed over to him. These weren't theoretical case studies that he consulted on. These weren't data for his dissertation, men who he wasn't even sure whether they qualified as sentinels or not. These three were real sentinels. Jim recognized them as sentinels, and even more problematically, they recognized Jim.
They recognized him too well.
Blair shook his head. Watching Jim interact with these new men could inspire a whole new dissertation. Blair just didn't have the energy to write it.
“The rain is beautiful.” Señor Padilla Rivera walked in the room.
“Totally. Is Jim…?” Blair looked to see whether Jim was following Señor Padilla Rivera. Jim had promised to stay with the third Sentinel, but this whole situation was getting so surreal that Blair wouldn't blame Jim if his protective instincts drove him back to Blair’s side.
“He still speaks to the one who cannot wake.”
Blair nodded. It killed him to see a Sentinel so lost in a zone that he slipped farther and farther into a coma. He'd tried everything. He'd sat at the man's bedside and called to him. He'd had the man's family come in. He'd had the staff change the clothing and the bed sheets and the soap that was used in the laundry.
After a long pause, Padilla Rivera continued. “Señor Ellison was concerned that you would not sleep without encouragement.”
Blair snorted. “I promised him that I would come back to the room, I never promised that I would sleep.”
“Did you not agree to rest?”
“Define rest.” Blair gave Señor Padilla Rivera sharp smile. The man gave a little laugh.
“You are not one I would verbally spar with. But then, I do not plan to verbally spar with either you or Señor Ellison. I am very grateful for everything you have done for these men.”
“We haven't done that much.” Blair wished he could wave some magic wand and claimed have all the answers, but failing one out of your three patients wasn't exactly an impressive statistic, and all Blair's theories were failing the third Sentinel.
“You have. We had three dying men. Now we have two men who stand and walk and speak of feeling human again. And one of them has even managed to stop looking lovesick when he mentions your name.” Padilla Rivera got a twinkle in his eye when he said that. Jim had been a little less amused when both Jimenez-Ramiro and Vega showed a tendency to want to trail after Blair. Oh, Jim had laid down the law and both men kept their distance physically, but only the arrival of Cabo Feo Morales had stopped Vega from overtly and rather obnoxiously coveting Blair. “This business of having a guide, it is more significant than I thought. The doctors at Bethesda, they did not mention this part of your research.”
“Yeah, well I'm not entirely sure how much of my research their listening to or even believing.”
“Then they are more fools.” Señor Padilla Rivera was firm on that. “Will you and Señor Ellison stay long?”
“Man, I hope not. No offense, because you have a beautiful country, but I really am sick of the hospital. And if Jim rags on me about my heart condition one more time, I'm going to…” Blair stopped, not even able to come up with a consequence serious enough to show how frustrated he was. Getting lectured about health from a man who considered Wonderburger the sixth food group was testing his patience.
Señor Padilla Rivera laughed. “You will forgive him,” he predicted.
Blair probably would. He looked back out the window at the gray world in the falling rain. Señor Padilla Rivera moved closer so that he flanked the other side of the window.
“My wife is afraid of the rain,” he commented in what seemed like a non sequitur. “Whenever it rains, she speaks of all of the weeds that are sure to follow.”
Blair frowned. “Yeah, but you're going to get a lot more grass and flowers tree growth, too.”
“You see, I knew you would understand. I love my wife, but she is one who sees what is wrong. The rain brings great weeds, but it brings greater beauty.” Padilla Rivera's face was too serious for the subject. Actually, the subject was too ridiculous for the man to even bring up, much less take so seriously.
“We aren't talking about rain, are we?”
Padilla Rivera drew in a large breath. He seemed to think about that answer for a long time. “I am very late turning in certain reports to my superiors. I am afraid that I am well known for my dilatory habits when it comes to paperwork.”
Blair raised his eyebrow and looked at Señor Padilla Rivera. From the man's expression, he was trying to say something pretty important, but Blair was not putting the pieces together. “Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or the recent heart attack or the near drowning experience, but I need a few more dots in this connect the dots game,” he admitted.
“Rain brings change, new growth. It is very exciting.”
“Ah.” Change. That's what he was talking about. Señor Padilla Rivera was talking about the metaphorical rain of sentinels who’d recently come into Blair's life. “You worry that there will be some weeds.”
“With rain, there are always weeds. It is the way of life. Americans, sometimes I think you must have very happy lives because so often you look for flowers to grow when there are no weeds. But flowers cannot grow without rain, and rain cannot fall without weeds.”
So Señor Padilla Rivera was warning them about weeds. And he was also warning Blair that he was particularly late in his reports. Two and two were adding up to something rather unpleasant. “I am really missing home,” Blair said cautiously, still not 100 percent sure he was tracking this conversation. “I think I might ask Jim about getting us a couple of plane tickets up North.” Blair watched Señor Padilla Rivera's face, and the sudden look of relief told Blair everything he needed to know. The man was avoiding filing paperwork, because he wanted to make sure one of his bosses didn't find out about Jim until after they were safely back in the States. Blair got a cold shiver down his back.
“I understand how you would miss home. When one misses home, it is best to return as quickly as possible,” he said with a nod.
“No joke.” Blair was starting to think they should be on the plane now.
Señor Padilla Rivera leaned in and patted Blair on the shoulder and the way the two men who'd grown familiar with each other might. “I am most honored to have known you Señor Sandburg.”
“The honor’s mine”, Blair said honestly. “There aren't enough men in this world who are willing to risk everything just to help someone else.”
“Enough? Perhaps not. But I like to believe that there are many of us.” Señor Padilla Rivera gave him a warm smile before turning and walking out of the room. Blair was still staring at the doorway, wondering just how deep the shit was going to get, when Jim walked in the room.
“Oh man,” Blair blurted, “am I glad to see you. Señor Padilla Rivera…”
“I know, Chief. I heard what he said. I followed him back to the room.”
“But you were going to stay with…” Blair stopped. The sympathy, the horrific sympathy on Jim's face said everything Blair needed to know. The world had one fewer Sentinel, and Blair had been absolutely helpless to do anything.
“It wasn't your fault,” Jim quickly offered. “You did everything you could.” Jim rushed forward and caught Blair in a bear hug, he held Blair so close that Blair could hear their twin heartbeats, almost as if he were the Sentinel. Tears prickled as his eyes, which was stupid because he had never known the man. Hell, he couldn't even remember his name. That man had a mother and a father or maybe a wife somewhere. They had a right to cry over him. Blair didn't. Still, he could feel his breath catching his lungs.
“It's okay,” Jim crooned. “It's okay, Chief.”
It wasn't, though.
“We'll grieve for him later,” Jim promised. “We'll both grieve for him. But I need you to hold it together, Chief. Señor Padilla Rivera is right; it's time for us to head home.”
Blair nodded, agreeing even if he couldn't get the words past the lump in his throat. Once more, he failed to help a Sentinel. Why was it that the profound gratitude of the two men who had recovered didn't fill the hole in his soul created by the death of one man?
Jim continued to croon, his arms strong around Blair, and Blair leaned into that strength and cried.