Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just playing with them a little. I promise to return them….someday.
Rating: G
Spoiler alert: none
Here is a big thanks sent out to Xasphi, who has helped immensely during the beta process. I am very lucky to have you on my side.
Abandonment Comes in Many Forms
by
Crazy
"Hey man," Blair gushed, as he and his housemate, Jim, walked through the hospital corridors. "I appreciate you coming with me."
"Not a problem, Chief." Ellison replied. "So, who is she?" Holding open a door, he allowed his friend to enter first.
"Huh?"
"Who is this nurse you're trying to get close to?" Ellison grinned down at his exuberant friend.
"Oh man, Jim, you wound me with your accusations." Blair immediately shook his head of curly locks and pretended to be offended. "Don't you think I can volunteer just for the sake of volunteering?"
The Sentinel only raised his eyebrow, as if to say that this was news to him.
Blair's personal life was an unending source of entertainment for him and at the moment the anthropologist was turning shades of red Jim had never seen before. Waiting a few moments more, he finally gave in and asked, "So, really, who is she, Sandburg?"
Smiling, Blair looked up at his Sentinel, halting mid-stride. "Ah, well, she's actually this gorgeous brunette I met at a coffee shop." Warming to the subject, the younger man rubbed his hands together and turned towards Jim. "She has dark, brown eyes, and legs up to here, man!" At the memory a large grin split his face.
Jim suppressed a snort, and innocently asked, "So, taking those legs into consideration, you said what, again?" The detective prodded, scratching his head as if confused.
"Nattie, that's her name," Blair answered, unabashed. "She mentioned she worked at the children's ward. I said it was cool, ya know, trying to make a difference in a child's life." Sandburg stopped abruptly, his face slowly losing its smile. "Jim, she said she wished more people tried to make a difference. It got me thinking." Carefully he composed his thoughts. "These kids, they … well they don't, hardly any of them anyway, they don't get to be real kids. And … and because they have illnesses, many people stay away." He shrugged, trying to throw off his irritation. "I am sure it's a social thing, but we can't expect kids to understand that."
Frustrated, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as he tried to explain himself, his ever-present hand gestures emphasising his comments. "Psychologically, people feel they should keep their distance, so they don't contract the disease. And it isn't normally a conscious decision. But, you see, kids are so sensitive; they pick up on things like that. And it's so unfair. Do you have any idea how that must feel? Especially to a child?" Blair grew quiet, and his hands stilled.
"Actually, Chief," Jim's soft words broke the silence. "I do have an idea. At least …" His blue eyes drifted from his guide to some unknown point in the past. "It wasn't all that different for Stevie and me." Blair gazed compassionately up at his partner, surprised at this rare glimpse into the older man's childhood. "Once Mom left, it was as if we were marked. People avoided us." His lips pursed, and his eyes narrowed. "There was this kid that lived down the street. I remember walking home once, and he was having a party: some sort of get-together or something. I stood by a tree and watched all the other kids arrive, hoping someone would see me and invite me too."
Coming back to the present, Jim shook his head and sighed. "I overheard the kid ask his mom if I could come in, but she said 'no', along with a few unnecessary comments about my family. I'm sure that if she knew I could hear her, she wouldn't have said them, although….maybe she would have, I don't know." He shrugged uncomfortably. "It was always like that. Birthday parties would happen, but no invitations for either of us." Pushing away the memories, Jim started walking again. "Mom left and everyone thought it was contagious."
They walked for a few moments before the detective stopped and took a deep breath. "I know it isn't exactly the same, Chief, but I remember wondering why everyone had abandoned Stevie and me."
Blair placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey man, abandonment comes in many forms." They stood in the middle of the sparsely populated corridor. Jim lost in thought, and Blair standing in silent support. "But," the smaller man finally broke in. "That's why we are here today. To help ease the abandonment these kids may feel."
Responding to the infectious mood the anthropologist exuded, the older man smiled, and fell into step with him. "It IS a good cause, Sandburg," Ellison agreed, his own memories subdued. "Even if it did start with a gorgeous brunette who has legs up to your eyeballs."
"Heh, heh," the smaller man chuckled, pretending not to be embarrassed. "Yeah, you're right, man. It is a good cause. Thanks for being here, Jim."
The pair stopped at the entrance to the children's wing, and pressed the entry button for admittance.