Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters belong to DeMeo and Bilson (Pet Fly). No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: This story was hard to write, but it was necessary. It was written quite a long time ago. It's not a particularly happy story, but I hope the underlying message offers some comfort.

Thanks for taking the time to read it.

From One Minute to the Next

My lectures, for the most part, are fascinating. I know that sounds awfully arrogant, but it's true. Especially if the reactions of my captive audience are anything to go by. Yeah, there are freshmen who seem to be lost in their own little world, but I don't take it too personally. I've done it a time or two myself. It goes with the territory of academia. I'm luckier than most professors. Almost all of my students like me and/or the subject I teach. So, usually, I have everyone's full attention.

Today was no exception.

I had been discussing the birthing rituals of the Dinka when one of my eager students asked a particularly thought-provoking question. They didn't have me bird walking necessarily, but we were off on a tangent. I don't mind that so much as long as something's being learned and it did have something to do with the original lecture. When impromptu learning takes place, you don't stop it.

I was in full swing, mouth moving, hands darting through the air, when I was interrupted by the loudest, gut-wrenching, heart-pounding sound that I have way too much experience hearing.

The human scream.

This was no ordinary scream, though. I'm sure you've heard the phrase, 'it made my blood run cold'? Well, let's just say that when I heard that scream, my blood froze. It literally felt as if icebergs had my heart surrounded. There was so much pain in that scream.

The whole class was quiet as we held our collective breath, wondering if we were going to hear another heart-stopping scream.

Nervously, I knew I just couldn't stand there. It's not in my nature to sit by and do nothing when I know someone's in trouble. I had to see what was wrong. With that in mind, I moved from behind my lectern and took a few steps toward the classroom door.

"NO!" The next shriek ripped through the air. If the first one froze my blood, the second made it curdle. I could feel all of the tiny hairs on my arms tingle. It's not a pleasant feeling.

That sound seemed to spur my freshman anthro class into action. Everyone began talking at once, shifting in their seats. A few rose to follow me.

I couldn't have total chaos. The first thing they teach you is in an emergency you remain calm. My class was fast approaching extreme agitation. I had to get the situation under control before I could go investigate.

Turning, I faced my class, and in my best teacher's voice called for order. "Ladies and gentleman, please calm down. Just sit back in your seats. I'm going to go find out what's going on. Before I can do that, I really need for you to remain quiet and still."

The students all looked at each other in indecision, but at least they were no longer raising their voices. A quick motion of my arm convinced them to sit. I was glad to see them pull it together.

I had no sooner congratulated myself for getting my class under control when the wailing started. It ricocheted through my brain until it hit my own pain center, forcing me to hurt in sympathy.

Galvanized by the agonized keening, I ran for the door. I hadn't taken three steps when it was thrown open and two people carrying a third stumbled in.

"Oh my God," I whispered to myself as I took in the tragic picture before me. "Tamika."

One of my former students was half struggling, half-hanging limp between two professors. Her face was blotchy and angry red. Wet, ragged, sobs accompanied tears she couldn't seem to control.

But it was the soul shaking denial which she chanted over and over again that made me ache.

"Oh God! No...no...no! It's not true. Why? Not Michael. Not Michael!" The last was ripped from her throat as a fresh wave of tears overtook her and she wailed again and threw herself out of the arms which were trying to contain her.

Quickly, I knelt beside her. "Tamika," I spoke quietly. "Tamika."

My voice finally registered and her puffy eyes widened slightly. "Professor Sandburg?" She sobbed again. "Oh my God, Professor!" Tamika threw herself into my arms and clung to me for dear life.

Slightly confused, but very concerned, I wrapped her in a protective embrace. Crooning softly to her, I tucked her head beneath my chin and rocked her gently. She continued to weep, small tremors racking her tiny frame. I could feel the tears soak my shirt and I held her tighter.

Looking at the two teachers who were both staring at us in sorrow, I shot them a questioning look.

One of them was close to tears herself, but she answered my silent query. "Michael Jacobs was killed in a car accident this morning. Shaun Danziger was in the car, too. He's in critical condition at Cascade General. They don't expect him to make it through the afternoon." She bit back a sob and fled from the room quickly followed by the other professor.

It vaguely registered that they were gone. There was a big stone weight where my heart had been minutes before. From somewhere outside myself, I heard myself dismiss the class. Again, without my conscious knowledge, they filed passed me.

Tamika and I were left alone.

I continued to hold her, no longer trying to fight her pain. I was too busy trying to control my own.

I knew both of them.

Mike and Tamika were a steady item since meeting in my class last semester. Shaun was a work-study for one of the anthropology professors. He always found time to stop by and ask me if I needed anything. Just yesterday, the three of them had burst into my office excited that they had found an old, out of print book title at the local used bookstore. You would have thought they had found a great treasure by the way they kept going on and on about that book. And they had. There had been a few, brief paragraphs on Sentinels. I was more excited than they were.

Now Michael was gone and it looked as if Shaun wasn't going to make it.

Suddenly, desperately, I clutched at Tamika. As we held each other, I let my own tears fall.

The afternoon had been a long one, but I had no knowledge of the passage of time. I was too busy trying to comfort a friend, to offer whatever solace I could. I held Tamika while she raged and wept. By the time Tamika's sister, Brianna, came to pick her up, my own emotions were raw.

There was no making sense of it. Believe me I tried. Tamika and I...we both tried. But, in the end, we were still hurting. We only succeeded in making the pain slightly bearable. I still can't understand why it happened.

Not knowing what else to do, wanting to be alone, I decided to wander over to the park near the university. Driving seemed too much for me to do right now. All I wanted was a little peace.

Before leaving, though, I knew I had to make the call. If I didn't, Jim would worry and I hate doing that to him. He worries about me too much as it is. The least I can do is let him know I won't be in until later. Jim's a really good guy, gives me my space when I need it.

Taking a deep breath--I didn't want him to know I was upset, that was a whole different kind of worry--I dialed the station. It wasn't even five o'clock yet so I knew he'd still be there.

"Ellison."

I shivered. Even hearing his voice over the telephone, made me feel warm and safe. For a minute, the pain in my heart eased. "Jim, it's me."

"Hey, Chief," the tone was light, happy. Now I really didn't want to burden him with my melancholy mood. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know I'm going to be a little late tonight." There. That wasn't so bad. I even sounded normal.

"What's wrong, Chief?"

Or so I thought. I closed my eyes and willed my mind and body to relax. "Nothing, man. Just gotta catch up on some work here. I shouldn't be too late. Don't wait up, though."

"Are you sure nothing's wrong, Blair? You sound..." There was a pause. "You sound as if you aren't feeling well, or like you're upset."

The concern in those words nearly had me confessing it all. But I wasn't going to bring my Sentinel down; not when, for once, he didn't have the weight of the world pressing down upon him. Still, it felt so good to be cared about. I carried the knowledge in my heart, treasuring it for the gift that it was. "No problems here, Jim. The wind's picking up. Maybe the change in the weather is affecting my sinuses. You know how that can be."

"Yeah, that must be it." My friend didn't sound too certain, but he didn't press the issue. I had to hand it to him. If he felt something was wrong, it was just like him to keep hounding me about it. But this time, Jim managed to suppress his Blessed Protector instincts. I loved him for it. "All right, Chief. I'll see you when you get home. And stay inside. I don't want you getting sick on me." Okay, so he couldn't totally ignore his Blessed Protector instincts. That thought made me smile just a little bit.

When I hung up the phone, though, all my previous emotions came crashing back. I really had to get out of my office. All of the sudden, it felt as if the walls were closing in.

Forgetting Jim's earlier decree, I slowly made my way out of the building and walked the short distance to the park. Finding a quiet bench, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jacket and sat down. It was a little chilly and the wind was definitely beginning to pick up.

It didn't matter. I wasn't planning on hanging around for long. Just some peace, some quiet, some time alone, was all I needed.

Listening to the wind whisper through the trees and seeing it drift across the little pond in front of me, I felt incredibly sad. Neither Michael nor Shaun would ever get to experience nature at work. They would never again walk across the quad and find a quiet bench in the park.

Tilting my face upward, I watched as the sky slowly turned gray. For once, the cold, cloudy Cascade weather and I were in perfect harmony. All the color seemed to have leeched out of my life and I was surrounded by dullness.

It got me to thinking. What if I lost someone I truly cared about? How would I feel then? The same? Dull and lifeless? I thought of my mother. What if I lost her?

The pain would be unbearable and the grayness would be with me a long time. Still, in all that grief, I knew I could still find a bit of color. It was a certainty I didn't even question. There would be something--someone--which to anchor myself.

Jim.

He was always there for me. Like I would be for him. Best of all, it went without saying. It underlined our friendship, supported it, made it special.

That brought me to the scariest thought of all. What if I lost Jim? Would I live in my cold, little gray world forever? I knew the answer to that one.

My world would crumble and I would be left in total darkness. No sight, no touch, no sound, no taste, no smell. My Sentinel would be gone and he would take my soul with him. I would go on, probably teach, publish a few articles, maybe write a book. I just wouldn't be alive anymore.

In misery, I dropped my head forward. Coming to the park was supposed to make me feel better. Instead, I was feeling worse.

I sat there, trying to get my stormy thoughts under control. So lost in my inner monologue, I didn't even notice Jim was there until he spoke.

"You okay, Chief?" he asked quietly.

I looked up and met his concerned gaze. "How'd you know where to find me?" I finally managed.

My friend reached out and laid a hand on my arm. "Does it really matter?" he asked quietly. "I always know how to find you...especially when I know you're hurting."

I swallowed passed the lump in my throat. The need to be alone had disappeared the minute Jim had spoken. Even though I hadn't wanted to bother him before, I was undeniably relieved he was here now. His presence was a balm to my wounded soul. "Jim, I--" I choked out, not knowing if it was the loss of my students or the sincerity of Jim's caring that made my throat tight. "I don't know what to say. I never meant to drag you out here to--to--" I couldn't seem to finish and I looked away.

"Chief," The hand on my arm squeezed gently. "You didn't drag me out here. I came because you needed me."

I blinked away the sudden wetness in my eyes. He always knew the right thing to say. I didn't know what I had done to deserve his friendship or his love, but I cherished it. There he sat, offering comfort, and I felt my heart lift a little. "H--how did you know?" My voice was still a bit unsteady.

Jim was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "Well, I heard it in your voice, Chief, when you called. I could tell something was wrong. God, I wanted to get down here as soon as I had hung up the phone." He shook his head. "It was so hard not to, but I went home instead, knowing you needed some time to yourself. Eventually, you'd tell me what was bothering you."

I looked back at him, letting the concern in his eyes wrap around me like a warm blanket. "What made you change your mind?"

He sighed. "Tamika's sister called to thank you for what you did today. She told me what happened to Michael and Shaun." Jim shifted closer to me, the hand on my arm moving up to my shoulder. "I'm really sorry, Chief."

Those simple words broke through the dullness my world had become. My emotions now flowing unchecked, I turned on the bench to face my best friend. "Why, Jim? Why?" I demanded, pulling my hands out of my pockets and gesturing angrily. "I--I don't understand. Not any of it. I just don't get it. Why?" I raged.

Jim seemed to know what I was asking and if I weren't so caught up in my feelings I might have marveled at that. Instead, I clenched at my knees, letting my fingers dig through the soft denim of my blue jeans to squeeze the living flesh beneath. I couldn't seem to help it. I was mad.

Stilling my hands by covering them with his own, he spoke calmly, "Blair, I know how you feel. When I lost my unit in Peru, I didn't understand it either. It was hard for me to come to terms with what happened. They were good men, people with a future. It seemed so unfair that they should have lost their lives." He squeezed my hands.

I took in a deep, shuttering breath. "Jim, that's exactly how I feel. It's so unfair. They were good kids. It just seems so cruel. They didn't wake up this morning, knowing they were going to die." My voice cracked. "Why did it happen? Can you tell me that?"

Jim shook his head. "No, Chief, I can't." He sighed before continuing. "Every time something like this happens, every time I think of my lost unit or find another body, I ask myself that same question. And, Blair, no matter how many different ways I ask it, I still don't have an answer. All I know is that you live your life the best you can and then..." his voice trailed off.

"Then what, Jim?" I asked afraid of the answer. I can see it in the sadness flickering in his eyes.

His tone was somber as he looked me straight in the eye. "And then...that's it." It was simple, uncut, and totally Jim.

Still, it shocked me. "T--that's it?" I sputtered, yanking my hands away from his. I ran them agitatedly through my hair. "How can you say that, Jim? Are you telling me those wonderful kids are just...gone?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His voice in contrast to mine was low. "Blair, it's what I know, what the evidence tells me, but it's not all that I believe. Do you understand?" He laid his hands on my knees and his eyes willed me to listen. "Chief, you've studied many cultures throughout your academic career. You know as well as I do most of us think there is something after this. Whether it be Heaven or Nirvana, reincarnation or returning to Mother Earth, there is something beyond this life."

"You really believe that, Jim?" I asked in a small voice. He was right. I had studied rituals of the dead in many societies, but I had done it as an impartial observer. This was different. I wanted so desperately to believe that my students had moved on to a better place.

"At one time, Chief, I didn't believe." He gave me a weak smile. "I thought this was a one shot deal. You take what you're given and do the best you can." He was quiet for a minute as he tried to come up with the words he needed to say. "Then I met you and I knew that so much goodness was just too much for one life. It made me realize that this was more than just a stop. It was an open door to somewhere else. I'm still not exactly sure what that somewhere else means, but I know it just doesn't all end here."

My jaw worked, but no words would come. I was so overwhelmed by what he had said. I never realized that's how he felt about me. Vocabulary just wasn't going to convey what I felt so I did what came natural. I uncrossed my legs, leaned forward and hugged him gently. I felt his arms go around me. "Thank you, Jim," I managed quietly, hoping he understood how deeply his words had affected me.

His answer was to hold me a little tighter, a little closer.

I stayed there, feeling my grief ease slightly. I still couldn't completely get over what had happened. Not only had two young people died, but it also gave me a lot to think about. Presently, I shared my thoughts with my Sentinel. Quietly, I spoke, my cheek still resting against the roughness of Jim's jacket. "You know, it's really scary. Things like this make you realize that life isn't something you play with or take for granted." I pulled back to look up into Jim's face. "You know, man, at 11:29 this morning they were driving down the road probably coming to school. At 11:30, Michael was gone and Shaun was fighting a losing battle to live." I shook my head. "From one minute to the next, things change. You just don't know what's gonna happen. I think that's the saddest part of all. That's what's unfair, not knowing when." I moved out of Jim's arms and sat on the bench with my knees drawn up to my chest, my arms going around them. I maintained eye contact with Jim.

"Knowing when your time is up doesn't change things, Chief. The truth of the matter is, we don't live forever. You just have to take life one day at a time. Enjoy what you have and don't sweat the small stuff. That's all any of us can do."

I sighed, knowing he was right. We could sit here for a very long time trying to understand the mysteries of life and death. It still wouldn't get us anywhere. Philosophy and religion had been trying to find the answers for centuries. And in the end, the answers weren't really important. What mattered was the here and the now.

The present. It was the only thing I could count on. That, and the person in front of me.

We sat in silence for a little while longer, comforted by each other's presence. I still grieved for Michael and Shaun, but after talking to Jim, I knew they had moved on to another type of existence. I hoped they were happy and I think somewhere deep in my heart I knew they were. I had to have faith in that.

When we decided to leave sometime later, the sun had already disappeared. As we walked to the truck, Jim put his arm around my shoulders, once again silently offering comfort. Feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my heart, I slipped an arm around his waist and gave him a tiny hug which he returned.

"Thanks, Jim," I said quietly in the night air.

"You're welcome, Chief," he replied.

In the far off distance, night birds twittered and neighborhood dogs barked. Squirrels darted through the fallen leaves to scurry up trees. Above it all, you could hear Rainier students laughing and talking.

Life continued.

The End.