Disclaimer: The Sentinel is property of UPN/Paramount and Pet Fly Productions. No copyright infringement is intended and no money has changed hands.
Author's note: This is an experiment. I have wanted to do something like this for a long time, but I was unsure how to proceed. I want feedback on this one badly. I want to know if I did a good job.
WARNING: DEATH STORY!
The casket sat there on the grass, waiting for its bearers to come and carry it to its final resting place. Made of solid, dark wood and draped in an American flag, it denoted a person of importance, a servant of the people. The honor-guard, dressed in the formal blues of the Cascade Police Department, told onlookers that the man was a cop. The length of the procession and the huge numbers of people who had come to the funeral indicated that he was a good cop, someone who had touched the lives of many. But none of that could tell you who the man was. Nothing, at first glance, could have informed a casual observer even the name of the man hidden by a pine box.
But that was because nothing like that was needed. The city of Cascade, Washington, knew who this man was. For decades, this man had been one of their two greatest allies against the forces of darkness that seemed to have some kind of unholy attraction for their location. The man had been well known by the citizenry, no matter what station in life they found themselves in, and well liked. This day, throughout the city, flags were at half mast, candles burned in the windows of homes and businesses, and black armbands with gold shields embroidered on them had sprung up like weeds, gracing the left arm of thousands of people, including the mixed people and press who had been stopped at the gate to the cemetery. The bands had been donated by a local tailor's shop and all the money from the sales had gone into the CPD's Widows and Orphans fund. The men and women who served with him had all bought one of the bands. They could be found on the arm of every cop in the city, even cadets at the Academy and retirees.
The only man in the department not wearing one didn't need to. His grief didn't need a little slip of cloth to announce itself. It was plain on his face, in the tears that poured down his face and the lines etched into its surface. Dressed in his own set of formal blues, he looked at the casket, not quite believing that the ride was over, and not wanting to. He wanted his friend to stand up, to pop up out of some hole and tell him it had all been a joke, a very expensive joke. Nothing was supposed to happen to him. He was supposed to have protected him! That was his function in the cosmic whirlwind that their lives had become once they met that fateful day in the hospital. He almost smiled to recall what had happened the very next day. The office of one Blair Sandburg had been witness to the birth of the first Sentinel/Guide pairing in over a hundred years, and the first one to be found in modern times, and also to the Sentinel slamming the Guide up against the wall, threatening to call Narcotics and have the room swept for drugs. That memory almost made the remaining partner smile.
The Jim's family was the department, and it had been for a long time. Sure, he had his brother, a man with whom it had taken a lot of work to rebuild their relationship after their now-deceased father had destroyed when they were children, but even now, Steven was really just Jim's friend. It was the cops who were his extended family, and Blair who was the brother of his heart. So it was his true family who held the honors at his funeral, and his true brother who would receive the flag.
This wasn't right. Despair threatened to overwhelm him as Blair thought about the death of his brother. It just wasn't right that the protector of this city, it's Sentinel, should be killed by some punk who got lucky. After all they'd faced together, Jim had walked into a convenience store robbery and the perp, only seventeen years old, had panicked and shot him through the heart. Simon'd had to handcuff him to himself to keep him from ripping the kid's head off.
Blair sat at the very front of the group of one hundred seats, his mother on one side of him and Simon on the other. There were two different men attending the funeral, one a generic Protestant preacher, tall and broad, with short hair and a bald spot, and the other a Shaman of the Chopec who Blair had asked to attend to his Sentinel's mortal remains. Since the Chopec also buried their dead instead of some other form of disposal there was no conflict, and this way both parts of his beliefs would be adhered to. Blair nodded to the Shaman, the man knowing who and what he was as he recognized that Blair, too, was a Shaman.
The preacher shook hands with the Shaman and then all were seated. Blair looked up, worrying about falling apart once it was his turn to speak. The Chief of Police had stood and was making his way to the podium, planning on telling the assembled what they already knew about the man and being flattering about his character and his deeds, when there was the sudden noise of a large cat screaming. Blair jolted. That was a sound that he didn't have to be a Sentinel to recognize.
As people looked around for the sound, Blair's excitement started to grow. Other people were hearing it, as none ever had before. He wondered what that meant and quickly turned his head to look at his fellow Shaman. Their eyes met and the Chopec nodded, a twinkle of foreknowledge in his eyes. Then he turned and looked at the casket. Blair's eyes followed his.
There was a shimmer in the air surrounding the coffin, like the heat rising from the pavement on a scorchingly hot day, but the air was cold. The shimmer resolved into a hazy kind of window. A dark blue-tinted jungle lay beyond the haze, just barely visible to someone who knew what to look for, and Blair had seen that same jungle in visions often enough to know what he was looking at. From that jungle leapt a great black jaguar that was at first just as hazy as it's home, but the beast quickly resolved into solidity as it landed on the coffin, it's great padded paws thudding on the wood but not disturbing the flag draped across it.
Blair was on his feet in an instant. The cat looked at him, one side of its mouth lifting in an almost human smirk. A human voice cut through the silence that hovered over the assembly. "Still as bouncy as ever, huh, Chief?" With that, the jaguar leapt off of the casket and morphed into a human shape as it landed.
And not just any human. Blair looked into the familiar blue eyes of the man in dress blues and tears streamed down his face once again. In a disbelieving whisper, he said, "Jim?"
A gentle smile played across the apparition's face. He nodded. "Yeah, Chief. I'm real. I'm even solid, at least for you." A sob wrenched itself from the younger man's throat and he threw his arms around his Sentinel. Jim returned the embrace with equal fervor, knowing this would be their last chance for a long time. They stayed like that for a full minute, before the Chopec Shaman cleared his throat, reminding the Sentinel that he had limited time. He pulled back from his Guide. "Hey, I've got work to do, Blair. I don't have much time."
Blair looked up at him, a stubborn look on his face. He would have preferred to have Jim all to himself while he was here. He sighed. "Still on duty, huh?"
"Yeah. One last time." Jim patted his partner on the shoulder. He turned to the crowd, and though his voice didn't rise in volume, it was abundantly clear that everyone could here him now. "Hi. I guess you've all figured out by now this is real, and if you haven't, ask the person sitting next to you to wap you in the head." Nervous chuckles rose on all sides. "I know this is weird, but the explanation is even better, so bear with me.
"First, I'm sure everyone here who's old enough remembers that dissertation mess my partner had to deal with fifteen years ago, before he joined the force. Stuck between a slimy publisher, a university seeing dollar signs, and an assassin trying to target someone I had been charged with protecting, he made a rash and irreversible decision to commit career suicide by declaring himself a fraud. I know that some of you in the brass have still held that against him, even to this very late date. Well that stops now. I have allowed it to go on for far too long. I'm telling you now that the press conference was the only lie he told. I was a Sentinel, all five of my senses enhanced by a genetic advantage. A Sentinel is the protector of his tribe, and for me, that was Cascade. Being a cop was a logical choice, though logic didn't really enter into the decision when I made it.
"I'm telling you all now because there are more coming. I was the first Sentinel to appear in the new society, the big city, but I won't be the last. I need for all of you to know the truth about that, and to put it in the records somewhere, but keep it under lock and key. I know what our government is capable of. These new Sentinels are still children right now. They'll need support, but we don't want the government to start kidnapping kids to see if they have enhanced senses. So wait until Sandburg tells you he's found another Sentinel/Guide pair and then back him up when it becomes necessary. They can't be shown to the world especially if they become cops, or they'll be too famous for undercover work, but make sure that they don't have to hide it from their superiors. Things are being set up in the other world so that a senior Guide will always be able to train a fledgling pair.
"You also need to realize that without a Guide, a Sentinel will go nuts. That's what happened to Alex Barnes, who was also a Sentinel. If Sandburg warns you about something like that, you'd better listen to him. Of course, she was a psycho to begin with, but her senses just made it worse.
"Now, not all pairs will be so connected to the spirit world as we were, but all of them will have some small connection that will allow me to contact them. They will be sent here, at least at first, so that Blair can get them some rudimentary training. Above all, I need for you with high ranks to listen to him where these new pairs are concerned. You don't want a damaged Sentinel on your hands, and Sandburg will be able to tell you how to handle them."
He paused for a moment looking specifically at a couple of the higher-ups who had consistently ignored Blair's advice on the basis of that damned press conference. "I want everyone to realize that I will still be watching. I am allowed to show up when I'm needed to give warnings. I'll end up being someone else's spirit guide eventually, but for now, I'm just watching the whole group and my city until the next Sentinel is ready to watch Cascade. I can't do anything physically, but I'll make myself known." He stopped to grin ferally. "I'm still allowed to scare the pants off the crooks in this town, so don't be surprised at any stories you hear.
"I'll be making several stops later, private stuff, but let me say that, despite differences we've had along the way, I know that this department is made up of the best men and women in the North West, and I was proud to serve with each and every one of you. Just don't let it go to your heads, especially you, Simon." The Sentinel grinned at the big black captain, who returned it easily, letting himself be happy that his friend would still be around, if in a limited fashion.
"That's all the time I have for now, but I promise I'll be around." He turned back to Blair, who had not released his arm the entire time he had been speaking. "I'll be able to talk to you later, but I have to go. I- I won't be solid again." His stutter revealed the thick emotions running through him. Touch had become very important to the both of them over the years, never sexual, but as a way to ground each other or comfort one another, and now they would never be able to touch again. They embraced with a fierceness that surprised no one. The Sentinel opened every sense, wrapping his brother in a net of awareness to take a memory with him to the other world. Blair opened his own gift wrapping his mind around that of his Sentinel and making a psychic impression on his mind.
The Chopec Shaman cautiously approached the pair. He said in Quechua, "[There is no more time, Enquiri. The portal is opening again.]" Jim looked up and turned his head. Sure enough, the jungle was back. He sighed and released his Guide. They looked into each other's eyes one more time. Then he turned around and morphed back into the jaguar.
He leaped back on to the casket, his form beginning to haze again as he walked back to the jungle. Before the portal closed, he yowled again, the sound oddly comforting to those in the assembly, a promise that the Sentinel of the Great City would still be watching.
As the physical world returned to normal, Blair was caught completely speechless. So Simon took up the task of breaking the mass shock that held the people around them. "I guess that beats anything I was going to say."
Blair laughed. It was the first time anyone had heard that sound since Simon had given him the news of Jim's death. It broke the cycle, allowing him to breathe again, to actually see the world around him. His humor restored, he said, "I knew that man had control issues, but he couldn't even let someone else deliver his eulogy." The remark drew a genuine round of chuckles, letting people let go of the weirdness of the situation and just take in the sentiment.
There was nothing left to be said. The rest of the service went quickly, the preacher giving his little speech and the Chopec completing the final rights of his people, and then the presentation of arms and of the flag. Blair waited until everyone else was gone, asking his mother to wait for him in the car. He looked at the headstone that would mark this spot forever. It read,
"JAMES JOSEPH ELLISON
1958 ~ 2014
DETECTIVE, CASCADE POLICE DEPARTMENT
TO SERVE AND PROTECT"
Blair thought that there was no better phrase to describe a Sentinel. No matter what place in life they chose to take, a Sentinel would protect his or her tribe. He was convinced that Alex had been an exception. She had been criminally insane, her protective instincts buried by her other problems.
Blair knelt beside the stone and placed a small onyx figurine of a jaguar on the ledge. He said, "I guess that's truer for you than most. You know, I nearly got arrested. I wanted to kill that kid. I think of it now and it sickens me that I came that close to committing murder, but I did. You'd have kicked my butt from here to China for that, and Simon would have been right behind you. I wish so much that you were here.
"I think you scared the Chief. The idea of you haunting this city is going to give him nightmares. He didn't like you when you could only get him at work to badger him about the way he played politics with our cases." Blair grinned. "Do it at least once for me. Catch him at dinner or something."
A chuckle reverberated through the Shaman's skull. Jim's voice came to him, echoing slightly. "I'll have to do that, if only to see the look on his face. I do have to talk to him, so dinner's as good a time as any." Blair turned around to see his friend standing there again, this time in his normal clothing, a soft green collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons undone tucked into khaki pants. He said, "I've got a lot I have to do, Chief. That kid sped up the time tables on a lot of things, and because of that we'll be having a lot of problems keeping the government out of this. I'll meet you later at the loft so we can talk. I'm allowed to explain everything to you, but right now I've got to get a couple of balls rolling. Ask Simon over for dinner, too. That way I can tell you both at once. You know how I hate repeating myself."
Blair grinned. "Yeah. I'll make sure he's there." The grin faded. "Don't get me wrong, Jim. I'm more than glad that you can still hang around and protect this city, but..." He couldn't continue. He took a deep breath, trying not to break down again, but not really succeeding. The tears came anyway, followed closely by sobs of grief.
A feeling of warmth surrounded the Guide. Jim said, "I know. Me too. I'm sorry I didn't give you the choice of joining me, but I couldn't see any way of doing what needs to be done unless at least one of us is in this world to be a go-between. I wish we could still be together, but we will be again. Our souls are joined at the hip, and nothing can break that apart. I'll be there for you until it's time for you to come home, and I'll be there to show you the way." For a while they just knelt there beside his headstone, the ghostly Sentinel letting his partner cry himself out and wishing he could do the same.
Three hours later, Blair had made enough chili for the entire core of Major Crimes, as well as Daryl Banks, who was in Narcotics. He'd asked Simon to come to dinner, but Rafe had overheard the conversation by accident and knowing that Jim was going to be there, he had asked if he could come over, and before long everyone knew what was up and wanted to be included. Blair's famous ostrich chili was also not to be denied, so he had a full house.
Daryl was in the kitchen helping to get enough dishes to serve the chili to seven hungry cops. Blair was stirring the chili and staving off Joel, who was trying to stick a spoon into the pot. Simon, Megan, Brown, and Rafe were at the table, waiting for the food and chatting companionably. There was a tension in the air that hovered around the conversation, the intense waiting attitude of people who had been granted a miracle and were afraid that it would be snatched away at the last moment.
Then he was there. "Hey, you didn't tell me it was poker night, Chief!"
Blair grinned at his partner. "It's not. Everyone heard me talking to Simon and decided to invite themselves over."
"That's great! Now you'll all get to hear this. Um- you guys aren't going to eat in front of me, are you?"
Daryl grinned. "Of course we are!" Chuckles sounded around the table.
Jim sat on the counter, about to start his talk, but this was too good an opportunity for Blair to pass up. "I know that's against house rules, Jim."
He smirked. "Yeah, well, two things on that. I'M not getting the counter dirty by sitting on it, and they're my rules so I can break them when I feel like it." Jim sighed. "Okay. I get to tell you all what the deal is with this ghost business."
Blair said, "Yeah, I wondered about that. After all, Molly only got her own house to haunt and you were the only one who could see her. Not that I'm complaining."
Jim nodded. "The deal is that Sentinels don't just have a genetic advantage. They're gifted for a reason, to protect the people, and the other world keeps track of that very closely." He bowed his head a bit. "They tried to warn me that night, but I've never been one to back down from a fight. I figured I could handle just one kid, right." He snorted, mad at himself. "Any way, I wasn't supposed to leave yet, but they couldn't break the rules, not even for a Sentinel, so they came up with this. I still get to protect the city, but now I'm haunting it. There are things happening. These new Sentinels and their Guides are just kids right now. I'm hoping that their families do a better job of raising them than mine did, but that wouldn't have been under our control in any event.
"The biggest problem right now is going to be keeping the government and the military out of this. They came after me five different times, and with the confirmed case gone, they'll start looking for untrained and unknowns. My best bet right now is to go find these kids and give them the number to the loft, give their parents a reason to contact you, Chief. Any ideas on how to do that?"
Everyone in the loft thought about it, and Jim was glad that everyone had decided to show up. Eight minds were better than three any day, and he had no problems with these people knowing the score. Several ideas were thrown out, stuff that really needed more than just Simon and Blair to work any way, things like scholarships, contest awards, sporting events, summer camps. Blair liked the camp idea and the scholarship. The bones of a working idea began to form while the still-living members of the team ate their fill of the chili and the salad and breadsticks that went with it.
Jim would stake out the kids and find out their family situations. If there were anything bad going on, Cascade PD would work to resolve the situations before anything else was done. Then they would set up a summer camp that would be funded by Jim's estate, at least at first. The entire estate had been willed to Blair, so they would have no problem with the funding in the first year. The scholarships would cover all the expenses for the kids to travel to and from the campsite, keeping the families from being put into any financial straights and removing one set of objections. By the end of the night they had several of the details worked out. As the guys went home for the night, they were pleased with the work they'd gotten done. All said a fond farewell to the ghostly detective and went to their various vehicles, until only Jim and Blair were left in the loft. Jim said, "You know, we still have the problem of what we're going to do about the military government. They'll likely be watching you for a while, and doing something like this is going to spark an interest."
Blair shrugged. "I don't know, Jim. Do the kids already have spirit guides? Could you keep track of them that way?"
"Yeah, I think so. How are we going to contact the kids in the first place? At least some of them are bound to be in bad family situations, and those kinds of parents are likely to freak out."
"We'll figure out something." A massive yawn took him.
"Geez, Blair. I didn't realize how late it had gotten. I'll let you get some sleep." Jim turned to go.
"Hey, Jim?"
The Sentinel paused. "Yeah, Chief?"
"You won't leave me alone, will you?"
"Never. I'll automatically know when you need me, and I'll be by your side in an instant. I'm still your partner, and I will be for as long as the sun rises and sets." And with that, Jim morphed back into his panther form and leapt through the wall to the street below, traveling through the streets of Cascade, as invisible as the fog, but far more effective. And as the city's night life continued, all who walked those streets could hear the call of a jaguar, a warning to all those who would harm those under the protection of the Sentinel.
~THE END
Author's note: I obviously left this one open. Depending on the kind of feedback I get, I might turn this into a serial. A friend of me in real space really wants me to do that, but I'd like to see what the rest of you think first. Please give me feedback!
~Jenifer