Dues Post: Surprise Timing
Rating: pg
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with The Sentinel, and do not own any of the characters in this work of fiction.
Word Count: 1,193
Spoilers: None
Warnings: No Beta
Pairing: Jim and Sandburg Gen/Friendship
Recognizing the signs and knowing what was happening, Jim would much rather have been alone for this, but as far as sharing his big bad secret with someone, Sandburg was probably the best he was gonna get. From the taste in his mouth, Jim new he had about 5 minutes before things went to hell. It’s going to be damn obvious, so he’s gonna have to tell Sandburg something. First thing’s first though, Jim sets his beer down on the coffee table before heading to the bathroom. No problem’s there, he heads back to the living room, quickly, because not making it back could be a recipe for disaster.
Surprisingly, the timing isn’t bad. It’s not great, but this could be happening while they’re on a case, or in the precinct, or driving. Luckily, he’s in a familiar environment, or Jim may be a lot more worried about what’s happening than he really is. Him and Sandburg were sitting on the couch in the living room of a cabin North of Cascade catching some much needed rest and fishing for the first time in who knows how long. It hasn’t happened in years. In fact, it hasn’t happened since he had left the hospital the first time with a warning from the doctor that it may or may not happen again. He’d been given warning signs to look out for, along with enough paperwork to kill a tree, ensuring that he’d remember them. That had been years ago, before his time in Peru, and before the military. In fact he’d almost forgotten about it. The injury hadn’t even been serious enough to hinder his ability to get into the military or police force.
Dammit, he thinks as he walks past the kitchen, hitting his hip on the island. All he needs is to get back to the carpet so he can have this stupid seizure. Honestly though, what were the owners thinking having only one carpet in a cabin? The floors must be freezing in the winter. As soon as this is over, he’s going to have a talk with the friend he’s renting this place from about buying a shag rug, no matter how ugly they may be. At least it’s only a few feet away, but he can already feel himself getting heavy and sluggish, the world going fuzzy. Sandburg chooses that moment to look over the back of the couch towards the kitchen. Clearly recognizing the pallor in his face, he quickly jumps over the back of the couch. The smell of beer sloshed on the floor quickly invades Jim’s nostrils.
“Jim? What’s happening man?” Sandburg is at his shoulder now.
With thoughts skittering around his brain, Jim knows it’s too late to warn Sandburg now. He actually kinda feels bad for the guy when the only thing coming out of his mouth is “move” before he stumbles into the living room. The last rational thought that skitters through his frazzled mind is ‘at least I made it to the carpet’ before the whole apartment bursts into a billion colors. He smells honey and birthday cake.
---
Everything was going great. He and Jim had closed their last open case, and they finally had some free time. It was made even better by the cabin being open to rent and the prospect of a weekend of fishing with nothing to bother them. Of course, Blair doesn’t think anything of it when Jim heads to the bathroom. He looks over the back of the couch when he hears him step out, intending to ask him for some snacks, just as Jim wobbles, smacking his hip into the island. Bounding over the couch, Blair gets there just as Jim growls “move” at him. Stepping out of the way, Jim stumbles into the living room, almost face-planting on the carpet as he trips over the corner of the couch.
Blair sucks at crises. But, this is Jim, so taking a deep breath; he runs into the living room and pushes the coffee table out of the way. Gently as possible, he rolls Jim onto his back. Jim’s gaze is vacant, face slack. Breathing, airway, circulation, all clear. Thanking whatever deities he can think of for having taken those psychology courses at Rainier, Blair immediately recognizes the simple partial seizure for what it is.
With nothing left to do but wait for it to take its course, Blair sets the timer on his watch and watches his friend. Thoughts keep flittering through his mind from psych 101; of case studies where patients state ‘I almost enjoy my seizures with the bright colors a feeling of euphoria’ and others where the patient complains of foul tastes, pressure, and anxiety. He’s crossing his fingers for the first option for his friend, wondering what he’s seeing and feeling, and praying that he’s at least comfortable. Jim’s gaze remains vacant for almost 2 minutes before he blinks owlishly up at the ceiling. His eyes then slip shut and his breathing even’s out in sleep. Blair finally feels somewhat useful as he grabs a blanket and pillow from the couch making Jim as comfortable as possible. He wants to move him somewhere softer like the couch or his bed, but this will do for now, seeing as how Jim has about 50 pounds on him.
Jim and he were camping last night. They had stayed in a tent right next to the river. Blair keeps playing over the possibilities if Jim had seized while they were out there. The campfire, rocks, cliffs, the river, if it had happened while they were out there, things could have been a 100 times worse than it already is. Everything seems so much more dangerous to him right now.
A couple of hours later Jim wakes up with a huge jaw cracking yawn. If he weren’t so worried, and angry, anxious Blair would have laughed at how comical Jim looked.
“Sandburg?” Jim mumbles.
“Hey, Jim…What the hell was that!”
“ Um. I had a seizure?” Jim has the gall to almost look sheepish as he stares up at Blair from the floor.
“Yes, yes you did. Seriously, you owe me one hell of an explanation. Have you had one before? What am I thinking, of course you have. Do you have any idea what this could mean? What about your senses? Was this different from you last one? Oh, and by the way, why didn’t you tell me about the seizures?!”
“I promise, I’ll tell you the whole story, and it’s only happened once before. I was really young, but let’s do it later. Okay?” Jim makes a kicked puppy face, and Blair doesn’t have it in his heart to keep pestering him about it so soon after the incident.
“Okay, okay. Come on it’s time for you to go to bed.” Blair pulls on Jim’s arm to help him to his feet. With only some minor stumbling he gets him up the stairs and into bed. Seconds after he’s in bed and covered up, Jim is back asleep again. “Sleep well. We need to have a long conversation when you’re up again.”
Fandom: The Sentinel
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with The Sentinel, and do not own any of the characters in this work of fiction.
Word Count: 1,193
Spoilers: None
Warnings: No Beta
Pairing: Jim and Sandburg Gen/Friendship
Recognizing the signs and knowing what was happening, Jim would much rather have been alone for this, but as far as sharing his big bad secret with someone, Sandburg was probably the best he was gonna get. From the taste in his mouth, Jim new he had about 5 minutes before things went to hell. It’s going to be damn obvious, so he’s gonna have to tell Sandburg something. First thing’s first though, Jim sets his beer down on the coffee table before heading to the bathroom. No problem’s there, he heads back to the living room, quickly, because not making it back could be a recipe for disaster.
Surprisingly, the timing isn’t bad. It’s not great, but this could be happening while they’re on a case, or in the precinct, or driving. Luckily, he’s in a familiar environment, or Jim may be a lot more worried about what’s happening than he really is. Him and Sandburg were sitting on the couch in the living room of a cabin North of Cascade catching some much needed rest and fishing for the first time in who knows how long. It hasn’t happened in years. In fact, it hasn’t happened since he had left the hospital the first time with a warning from the doctor that it may or may not happen again. He’d been given warning signs to look out for, along with enough paperwork to kill a tree, ensuring that he’d remember them. That had been years ago, before his time in Peru, and before the military. In fact he’d almost forgotten about it. The injury hadn’t even been serious enough to hinder his ability to get into the military or police force.
Dammit, he thinks as he walks past the kitchen, hitting his hip on the island. All he needs is to get back to the carpet so he can have this stupid seizure. Honestly though, what were the owners thinking having only one carpet in a cabin? The floors must be freezing in the winter. As soon as this is over, he’s going to have a talk with the friend he’s renting this place from about buying a shag rug, no matter how ugly they may be. At least it’s only a few feet away, but he can already feel himself getting heavy and sluggish, the world going fuzzy. Sandburg chooses that moment to look over the back of the couch towards the kitchen. Clearly recognizing the pallor in his face, he quickly jumps over the back of the couch. The smell of beer sloshed on the floor quickly invades Jim’s nostrils.
“Jim? What’s happening man?” Sandburg is at his shoulder now.
With thoughts skittering around his brain, Jim knows it’s too late to warn Sandburg now. He actually kinda feels bad for the guy when the only thing coming out of his mouth is “move” before he stumbles into the living room. The last rational thought that skitters through his frazzled mind is ‘at least I made it to the carpet’ before the whole apartment bursts into a billion colors. He smells honey and birthday cake.
---
Everything was going great. He and Jim had closed their last open case, and they finally had some free time. It was made even better by the cabin being open to rent and the prospect of a weekend of fishing with nothing to bother them. Of course, Blair doesn’t think anything of it when Jim heads to the bathroom. He looks over the back of the couch when he hears him step out, intending to ask him for some snacks, just as Jim wobbles, smacking his hip into the island. Bounding over the couch, Blair gets there just as Jim growls “move” at him. Stepping out of the way, Jim stumbles into the living room, almost face-planting on the carpet as he trips over the corner of the couch.
Blair sucks at crises. But, this is Jim, so taking a deep breath; he runs into the living room and pushes the coffee table out of the way. Gently as possible, he rolls Jim onto his back. Jim’s gaze is vacant, face slack. Breathing, airway, circulation, all clear. Thanking whatever deities he can think of for having taken those psychology courses at Rainier, Blair immediately recognizes the simple partial seizure for what it is.
With nothing left to do but wait for it to take its course, Blair sets the timer on his watch and watches his friend. Thoughts keep flittering through his mind from psych 101; of case studies where patients state ‘I almost enjoy my seizures with the bright colors a feeling of euphoria’ and others where the patient complains of foul tastes, pressure, and anxiety. He’s crossing his fingers for the first option for his friend, wondering what he’s seeing and feeling, and praying that he’s at least comfortable. Jim’s gaze remains vacant for almost 2 minutes before he blinks owlishly up at the ceiling. His eyes then slip shut and his breathing even’s out in sleep. Blair finally feels somewhat useful as he grabs a blanket and pillow from the couch making Jim as comfortable as possible. He wants to move him somewhere softer like the couch or his bed, but this will do for now, seeing as how Jim has about 50 pounds on him.
Jim and he were camping last night. They had stayed in a tent right next to the river. Blair keeps playing over the possibilities if Jim had seized while they were out there. The campfire, rocks, cliffs, the river, if it had happened while they were out there, things could have been a 100 times worse than it already is. Everything seems so much more dangerous to him right now.
A couple of hours later Jim wakes up with a huge jaw cracking yawn. If he weren’t so worried, and angry, anxious Blair would have laughed at how comical Jim looked.
“Sandburg?” Jim mumbles.
“Hey, Jim…What the hell was that!”
“ Um. I had a seizure?” Jim has the gall to almost look sheepish as he stares up at Blair from the floor.
“Yes, yes you did. Seriously, you owe me one hell of an explanation. Have you had one before? What am I thinking, of course you have. Do you have any idea what this could mean? What about your senses? Was this different from you last one? Oh, and by the way, why didn’t you tell me about the seizures?!”
“I promise, I’ll tell you the whole story, and it’s only happened once before. I was really young, but let’s do it later. Okay?” Jim makes a kicked puppy face, and Blair doesn’t have it in his heart to keep pestering him about it so soon after the incident.
“Okay, okay. Come on it’s time for you to go to bed.” Blair pulls on Jim’s arm to help him to his feet. With only some minor stumbling he gets him up the stairs and into bed. Seconds after he’s in bed and covered up, Jim is back asleep again. “Sleep well. We need to have a long conversation when you’re up again.”