A/N: Sentries were considered a lower form of humans. They exhibited animal-like qualities and they had the unique shade of eye color that made them look unnatural. It became a sign of superiority to own a sentry as an example of wealth. Most sentries were expensive to purchase, and then to maintain afterward. They were used as bodyguards, slaves, and even as playthings depending on their masters. It was a sign of dominance, and to claim a Sentry permanently, a master must make them submit under a sexual bond. For a sentry to disobey their master, or strike against them was a sentence punishable by death.
With no real laws to protect them, they became something of an endangered species. Only when the Institute for Sentry and Better Living (ISBL) was created, did the Sentries have someone looking out for their welfare. However, change moved slow, and sentries still had to live under the strict care of their masters. It was now illegal to initiate a bond sexually if the Sentry was under the legal age. Masters also had to fill out paperwork to show proof of ownership of their Sentry. Collars were to be worn, if not a disciplinary collar, then a regular collar that would've been worn by a dog.
The disciplinary collars were created to prevent any behaviors that the master thought undesirable, to be punished. A short wave of electricity would be sent through the sentry causing temporary disability. Such devices were frowned upon by some who were sympathetic to sentries, but they were not officially banned.
He listened intently, taking in every slight sound, every murmur, every breath that went on behind the double doors. Blinking fiercely, Doyle, did his best to split his attention to listening to the three heartbeats of his growing family and the voices of the doctors and nurses in the room. His attention had been so focused that he started a little by the hand that touched his shoulder.
Doyle whipped his head around, letting out a low growl that was non-threatening. He barely gave the energy to bear his teeth at the man before he leaned his body back into the chest of the man crouched down behind him. He lifted his head up and gave a whine, sniffing at the familiar scent he had grown accustomed to these past two years.
"Sorry, Doyle. It's time. I know you're worried about your handler and the babes, but we can't sit here any longer." Came the apologetic words of the police Sergeant Greives.
Doyle tensed, anxiety kicking in and he buried his face deeper into the man's chest. The painfilled whine he gave produced the result of a hand on his head, patting it.
The hand disappeared after a while and the man stood up.
A slight tug around Doyle's neck and stomach indicated that he was being told to stand, but he didn't want to leave.
His throat felt like there was something constricting it that wasn't the metallic collar fastened there.
Doyle dipped his head and shifted himself better to stand up. His brows creased and he bit his lip to the point that they bled to keep from arguing. From fighting back.
Why? Why must I leave when my family is in there, dammit!
The truth of the matter was it had nothing to do with Grieves loitering in the hall, waiting for news on his partner, but it had everything to do with Doyle being there. Doyle, who was a Sentry working for the police department.
Sentries weren't allowed in big public spaces like this if they weren't working. Hospitals prohibited them from entering but Grieves had pulled a few strings to get Doyle inside for a few minutes instead of waiting outside in the car.
Doyle had been on edge ever since that morning, and now he felt helpless just waiting for news.
Walking slowly behind Grieves towards the exit, Doyle cast looks back at the door that led to the operating room, still listening to what was going on behind them.
His handler, Touie Conan worked as a profiler for the police department, and despite being intended for another, Doyle had formed a bond with her and acknowledged her as his handler. Like most of his kind, Doyle didn't just submit to just anyone easily. A Sentry had to be trained to work under someone's authority. Touie didn't force him ever to do something he didn't want to. She had made him feel like he wasn't just a Sentry, but a human too.
Please Touie. I know it's tough, but please, please hang in there. You have to live to be able to hear our children. To hear their laugh. Watch them grow. Make friends and…and…
Grieves felt the leash grow taut and he looked back to see that Doyle wasn't moving anymore.
He was staring down at the ground, eyes wide and haunted.
"Doyle. You coming?"
"She…s-she's gone." Doyle choked out, not able to believe it, but his ears didn't lie. Touie's heartbeat, which he had been steadfastly listening to, had become accustomed to listening to, was gone. Doyle looked up towards Grieves, eyes filled with tears.
"She's gone, Grieves. I- I can't hear her… I can't hear her…"
Grieves crossed the distance between him and the Sentry and caught him just as he began to collapse to his knees. Doyle began to sob uncontrollably.
"She's gone…she…she's gone." Doyle repeated, clenching the man's clothes as he sobbed into his neck.
Grieves held Doyle tightly to his chest, tears burning his eyes as he silently wept for his partner.
The two sat in the middle of the hallway, Doyle crying loudly, repeating the same words over and over again.
Doyle wept for the loss of his handler, his wife, the woman he loved and whose voice he would never hear again.
A few people looked at the pair of them. They instantly saw Doyle's unnaturally bright color eyes and collar and disregarded him. They'd judge him for being born a Sentry, but none of them could ever know how much he had lost in that moment.
A/N: So I wrote this story plot while at work being bored. I put it into the universe I created which is a mix of Sentinel and Guide and Alpha and Omegas...That and shapeshifting because...why not? Tell me what you think. If you really hate it, please you don't have to continue reading. I don't need trolling negativity. It's not constructive.