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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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2020-11-04
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Journey To Destiny

Summary:

While the Sentinel's away, the Guide attempts an exploration of his Shamanic abilities

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Journey to Destiny

By Chopecdar

 

"You'd better hurry, Jim. You don't want to make Simon grumpy." Blair said, from his blanket wrapped perch on the couch.

"Yeah, I'm going." Jim grumbled. "You know how I hate these things."

Blair smiled at his Sentinel. "It'll do you good to get away for two days. Relax in a nice hotel room, eat at a nice restaurant"

"Listen to a boring lecture." Jim whined. "If you think it's so much fun, why didn't you want to go?"

"You know there were only two tickets available for the conference and Simon really needs to get away. Your job is to make sure he relaxes."

"Okay, Chief. I'll bring home a nice calm Simon. So, what are you going to be doing all weekend while I'm away? Or maybe I don't want to know."

"Don't worry, big guy. What you see right now is what I'm planning for the whole weekend. I'm going to be a couch potato." Blair smiled as he wrapped his blanket around him a little tighter and pointed to the stack of books on the coffee table.

"You figuring on reading all of them?" Jim asked, counting at least eight paperbacks in the stack.

"Sure. Why not? I hardly ever have time to just read a book for enjoyment."

Jim picked up his duffle bag and threw it over his shoulder. "You're liable to need new glasses by the end of the weekend. But at least I don't have to worry about you getting into any trouble while I'm gone. Can't do much damage parked on the couch" Jim smiled, giving Blair a light tap on the side of the head as he breezed by him on the way to the door.

"You say that like I'm some kind of trouble magnet or something." Blair protested.

"Well.."

"Bye Jim." Blair picked up the top book off the stack and tossed it toward Jim, where it hit the door and bounced off onto the floor.

"I hope those aren't library books." Jim said, chuckling as he opened the door. "I'll see you Monday morning, Chief."

"Okay, Jim." Blair glanced over and smiled as Jim closed the door behind him.

He listened as the elevator dinged and sat quietly as he allowed enough time for Jim to get to his truck and drive away. Then he threw the blanket off onto the couch and got up, taking the stack of books with him. He stopped and picked up the book from the floor and carried the whole stack into his room, dropping them onto the bed. Taking a deep breath, he went back into the living room to get ready.

He had already made a fire. Now he turned up the heat and covered the coffee table with an assortment of candles.

A half hour later, Blair was ready. The loft was warm. The candles were lit. The curtains were drawn. Soft meditation music played on repeat in the background. He couldn't get any more ready than this.

He made himself comfortable on the floor in front of the coffee table. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had not eaten in two days. He smiled, remembering how he had managed that without Jim even noticing, claiming to have eaten at school or elsewhere. Even his switch from morning coffee to herbal tea had gone unnoticed.

Now for the special tea. He had prepared it two days ago and stuck it in the back of the refrigerator. Now it was waiting in a cup before him, warm from the pot on the stove. He had followed the directions exactly, letting the mix sit for two days, then gently warming it over a low flame, no microwave allowed. Supposedly the microwave destroyed the herbs effects.

He sipped at the tea. It was warm and fruity tasting and burned a little bit on the way down. He felt a warm tingling spread through him and as he took the last sip of tea he didn't even notice the cup falling off the side of the table as he went to set it down and missed.

His eyes were drawn to the flame of the biggest candle in the middle of the table. He felt it pulling him. He was moving. He knew he was moving, but his body felt strangely heavy, like it was made of concrete. It was a cold empty shell and he felt himself floating away from it, seeking the warmth of the flame.

But now that he was in it the flame didn't feel warm anymore. He looked around and realized that he was on the ceiling, floating freely about the room. There on the floor he could see himself. A pale vision of empty Blair, eyes closed, hands limp at his sides.

So, this was how it felt. But where was the spirit world? He was supposed to be on a spirit walk, not floating on the ceiling. This was just some kind of out of body experience. Doubt hit him hard like a fist in the stomach. What if he wasn't good enough? Some shaman he was being, couldn't even go on a spirit walk, even with the help of tea direct from the shaman of a tribe in South America.

Suddenly he felt himself being drawn up away from himself and before he could even give it a thought he was in the sky soaring above the city. He rolled about in the clouds, with a feeling of freedom such as he had never known. He looked down at the buildings and the people walking about on the sidewalks. He didn't even see his own building. He had already drifted far away.

He was moving, although not by his own power, just sort of drifting on the wind. He was passing over the Police building. He wondered if he could go inside and before the thought was even completed, he found himself on the ceiling of the Major Crimes office. There was Rafe at his desk typing a report. It was kind of reassuring to see normal everyday activity.

Ah, the break room. There was Brown banging on the candy machine. Blair laughed, surprising himself to find that he could laugh in his current form. He watched as Henry shook the machine and finally got his candy bar. He grabbed the Snickers bar as if it were a prize and headed back to the bullpen. Blair followed, watching as Henry ripped the wrapper off the candy bar and bit into it.

Something pulled at him and he felt himself being sucked back outside and away from the building. He realized that this should have been making him sick, this flying around. His fear of heights must have been left in his physical body. He only felt light and free.

The thought came to him that he should be getting back to his body now and suddenly he realized that was where he was headed. There must be a time limit on this thing that made him go back to his body from where-ever he had wandered. He relaxed and enjoyed the ride, watching as Prospect Avenue got closer and closer and then he was sucked back through the roof and down into the loft.

Back into the cold body, he felt himself tilt sideways and fall asleep and he dreamed of flying.

The phone ringing woke him up and he peeled his eyes open to find himself in complete darkness. The fire had burned out and the candles had died. He pushed his heavy numb body onto the couch and grabbed the phone, wondering even as he lifted it if he had the energy to speak.

"Chief?" Jim's worried voice came through.

"Jim."

"Are you okay, Chief? I've been trying to call you for almost an hour."

"Sorry. I was asleep, didn't hear the phone."

"Are you okay? You sound a little out of it."

"Yeah Jim. I'm fine. You know how sleepy you can get when you do a lot of reading."

"Okay. I just wanted to check in, let you know the number here in case anything comes up."

"Okay, let me get a pen. Hold on."

Blair put the phone down and stumbled over to the kitchen counter to get a notepad and pen. His fingers hardly wanted to cooperate, but he managed to pick them up and head back to the phone.

"Blair! Blair, are you there?" Jim's voice was calling over the phone.

"Jim?"

"It's been ten minutes, Chief. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Jim. I just had to run to the bathroom on my way back to the phone. Sorry. Couldn't wait."

"Okay. Here's the number."

Blair wrote the number down as Jim gave it to him and managed to repeat it back to him.

"Okay. I'll call you again tomorrow night. Maybe you should go back to sleep."

"Yeah, I'm planning to. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Have fun at the seminar."

"Yeah, right." Jim answered.

Blair hung the phone up and crawled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. Before he drifted off to sleep he decided he would try the tea again in the morning. Maybe when it came to spirit journeys, you had to walk before you could run.

*

Morning turned out to be early afternoon. Blair woke to find himself hot and thirsty. He crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, then poured himself a big glass of ice water, which he guzzled right down. He thought about having some breakfast but decided that he would wait until after he tried the spirit walk again. It was supposed to work best after fasting and he only had enough tea left for one more try so he didn't want to waste it. He got his environment ready, lighting the candles, warming the tea, but this time he decided against lighting the fireplace. He was warm enough already.

He sat down on the floor, back against the couch, coffee table full of candles in front of him and sipped his tea. Again the cup fell from nerveless fingers as he took the last sip. He felt the pull almost right away and was soon looking down at himself from the ceiling.

What a strange feeling, to be looking down at yourself. Without conscious thought as to where he was going, he floated through the roof of the building and into the sunny sky. A feeling of absolute freedom came over him and he soared into the clouds. He wondered how far he could go. The idea that he was trying to find the spirit plane totally eluded him as he enjoyed the freedom of flying without fear.

He floating about, looking down on the city, no direction in mind. Soon he found himself flying over the park, looking down at the groundskeeper chugging along on an old riding lawnmower. The noise rising up from the engine made him feel like he was vibrating.

He kept moving and the noise faded a bit. Then he was passing over the old quarry road, a road that was hardly ever used anymore. He remembered when he was 16 bringing Carla Anderson back here. There were little pull off spots all along this road where you could park for a little privacy. He smiled as he remembered how Carla had cut their privacy short and insisted he take her home. He had assumed since she was older that she would be willing but she had firmly set him straight and he had remained a virgin a bit longer.

Something glinted in the sunlight as he passed over. Making a conscious effort to go back, he found himself drifting down toward whatever he had seen. As he got closer he felt a jolt of adrenalin run through him. He momentarily wondered how he could feel like that without a body, before his attention was back on the scene before him.

It was a red Mustang, probably about a 1970 model, a classic car. It didn't look so classic at the moment though. It was laying on its side in the mud at the bottom of the ravine. Looking up, Blair realized it must have come off the quarry road at the curve and rolled down the hill. He wondered how long it had been here.

Then he heard the moan, a very quiet feeble little moan. He might have easily missed it if he hadn't been paying attention. He floated over to look down into the car and saw the kids inside. Four teenagers, a boy and a girl in the front seat and a boy and a girl in the back seat. The two in the front both had bloody foreheads and were unconscious. The moan had come from the back. The girl was stirring and her slight

movement's had jostled the boy. He had a broken arm that had punctured the skin. He didn't seem to be exactly conscious but he was enough aware that he was feeling the pain.

Blair looked at him to see if there were any other injuries, glancing up at his face, then looking back at him in shock. Oh God, it was Daryl.

He forgot for a moment that he had no form and tried to pull the door open.

"Damn!" Frustrated he realized what he had to do. If he went back to his body he knew he would pass out with exhaustion like he had done the night before. That would delay him being able to get help for these kids until he woke up, which would be hours. He couldn't risk that. He needed to let somebody know about this right away.

The only one he could think of was Jim. His sentinel had been able to see ghosts before and had been able to walk the spirit plane to talk to Incacha. If anybody would be able to see and hear Blair in this form, it would be Jim. But how would he find him?

He thought about Jim, praying to be able to get through to him and suddenly he was in a hotel room. He didn't even feel himself move. He was just there. But where was Jim? The room was quiet. He looked around, seeing Jim's suitcase in the corner. It was definitely his room. "Jim, where are you? I need you!"

*

Simon and Jim walked away from the buffet table and took their seats. At least this conference was providing some pretty good meals. Jim took a bite of his steak.

"You have to admit, this conference hasn't been bad at all." Simon commented.

Jim nodded, smiling. "At least they hired a good caterer."

He took another bite of his steak and was halfway through chewing when it turned to sawdust in his mouth and the only thought in his mind was Sandburg.

He choked it down and gulped some water, standing up.

"Jim? Something wrong?" Simon asked.

"Sandburg." Jim said. "Something's wrong with Sandburg."

He shook his head trying to clear it, trying to think rationally. What had just caused that feeling to come over him? He had to go check on Sandburg. He looked back at Simon and smiled. "It's probably nothing, sir. I just got this overwhelming feeling that something's up with Sandburg. I'm just going to go up to the room and give him a call just to check."

Simon laughed. "Okay, Jim. You go check on the kid. I'll keep an eye on your dinner for you."

Jim nodded and took off for the elevator.

*

Jim was coming. He didn't know how he knew but he just felt like Jim was on his way to the room. He had to work at staying still and waiting. If he let himself go, he always seemed to find himself hovering by the ceiling.

The door opened and Jim walked in, going immediately to the phone and starting to dial. Blair moved closer to him.

"Jim!" He called out.

No response. He stepped closer and Jim shivered and looked directly at him.

"Jim?"

"Oh, God! Blair!" Jim's expression quickly changed to one of fear and sorrow, as the phone dropped out of his hand.

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

"Jim, listen. I'll explain later, but I don't know how much time I have here and I need to tell you something."

Jim sank onto the side of the bed, wiping a tear away from his eye, and looked at the ghost image of his guide. "Why? You have to tell me what happened to you. Is..Is it too late?"

"What?" Blair was puzzled. What was Jim talking about? Why wouldn't he just pay attention?

"Jim, there's been an accident, out on the quarry road behind the park. Jim, Daryl's in the car. He has a broken arm and he needs help. And there are three others with him. You have to get help out to them."

"But Blair, I thought you were going to stay home all weekend. Why did you go out? What am I going to do now?" Jim looked at the wavering almost transparent form of Blair and reached out to touch his face, but felt nothing but air.

"Jim! Jim! I don't know what's up with you, but you've got to get some help over to them and then tell Simon so he can get to the hospital. You have to call it in and leave right away to get home." Blair said.

At that moment, Simon came through the door. Finding Jim sitting on the edge of the bed staring into space.

"Jim, are you zoning?" Simon asked, stepping in front of his friend.

Jim watched as Simon stepped right through Blair to stand in front of him.

"He looked up. "He's dead, Simon. His ghost is here." He mumbled.

"What?" Blair yelled, pushing through Simon to again stand in front of Jim. "Oh man, no wonder you're acting so strange! Jim, man, I'm not dead!" Blair insisted. "I'm fine. I'm just. Not in my body at the moment, but I promise you I'm not dead. But those kids might be soon if you don't get some help out to them right away! Do you understand?"

"Blair? Not dead?" Jim whispered.

"Jim, snap out of it!" Simon shook his shoulders, again stepping in front of Blair.

Jim looked at Simon. Suddenly the information about the car accident filtered through his confused despair and he realized Blair was right, alive or dead, he was here giving his sentinel vital information that needed immediate action. He stood up, pushing past Simon and got on the phone. He didn't explain, just gave an anonymous report of an accident with injuries off the old quarry road.

"It's right by the curve. It went off the road and is lying sideways in the ravine." Blair said.

Jim relayed the information to the dispatcher, who promised to get help right out there. Jim hung up the phone, then turned to Simon. This would be the hardest part.

Simon stood, looking at Jim like he had grown an extra head.

"Simon." Jim began.

"Let me guess. This is some find of sentinel thing, isn't it?"

"You could say that." Jim said. "Listen to me Simon. You have to believe what I'm about to say."

Simon looked at Jim and waited.

"There's been an accident out on the old quarry road." Jim said.

"I heard you calling it in, Jim. What I don't understand is how you know about it."

"Blair told me." Jim explained.

"So Blair sees an accident back in Cascade and calls you so you can report it?" Simon grumbled. "What kind of sense does that make?"

Jim pulled his suitcase out and started packing.

"What are you doing?" Simon demanded.

Jim stepped over and grabbed Simon's shoulder. "Simon, we have to go home right away. Daryl is involved in that accident. Blair somehow saw the accident and came here to let me know about it."

Simon shook his head. "And just where is Sandburg now?"

Jim glanced over to where Blair was floating, watching them.

"He's still here sir." He pointed toward his guide. "He's over there."

"Jim, I think it's finally happened. You've finally been driven over the edge by these crazy senses of yours. Is this some new kind of zone out? You're having hallucinations now?"

"Jim, tell him it's a red Mustang. Maybe he knows one of Daryl's friends has one." Blair suggested.

Jim looked into Simon's eyes. "I'm your friend. I wouldn't make up something like this. Daryl has been in an accident with three other kids. They're in a red Mustang."

"Oh God." Simon gasped as he pulled away from Jim and sat on the bed.

"His friend Rodney has a red Mustang. He's always riding around in it."

Simon took a moment to absorb, then jumped up and stepped to the door.

"I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes." He said, shutting the door behind him.

Blair moved closer to Jim. "I think I need to go now, Jim."

"Are you sure you're okay, Chief?" Jim asked, looking at the wispy image of his friend.

"I'm fine, Jim. I'll be at home waiting for you. I'm sorry for scaring you."

Jim smiled. "It's okay, as long as you're okay, but you'd better have a good explanation for this."

"Be careful, Jim." Blair said, as he drifted up and out of the hotel.

Jim took one last look around the room and finished filling his suitcase.

*

Blair floated around, thinking he'd better get back to his body now. He'd been out a lot longer than the day before. He wondered why he hadn't felt the pull to return like he had before. He concentrated on the thought of getting home and found himself moving and suddenly he was in the car with Jim and Simon.

"Blair?" Jim looked in the back seat, having sensed his guide's presence.

"Yeah, I'm back." Blair said quietly. "I think I'd better just stick with you until we get home."

"Why, what happened?" Jim asked, worriedly.

"I'm not sure, but I think I forgot how to get back." Blair said. "I must have stayed away too long."

"Damn, Blair." Jim wished at that moment that Sandburg was a little more solid so he could give him a whack on the side of his head for pulling this stunt.

"It'll be okay, Jim. I swear. And I won't ever do this again."

"You'd better be okay, Chief, cause if you're not, I'm going to kill you."

Blair smiled. "Okay, Jim."

"Would you cut that out!" Simon chimed in. "It's rather unnerving to hear you talking to someone I can't see."

"Sorry, Simon." Jim said.

Simon glanced into the back seat of his car, then looked over at Jim. "So, he's really back there?"

Jim nodded.

"How did he get here?"

"I don't know. He hasn't explained that one yet. But there might be a problem."

"A problem. Of course there's a problem. This is Sandburg we're talking about. What kind of problem?"

"He thinks he forgot how to get back to his body." Jim said.

"So, that's why he came back?" Simon asked.

Jim nodded. "He's sticking with me until we get home."

Jim looked back at Blair, who was floating across the back seat, hands tucked under his head as if taking a nap.

"So, Chief. It's a little over an hour's ride from here. Why don't you tell us how this happened."

"You're not going to like it."

"I already don't like it."

"Okay. Well, I got some herbs from a shaman of a tribe in South America. They were sent to me by a friend who's doing some work down there with this particular tribe and she knew I was interested, so she talked to the shaman and he gave her the herbs and told her that the spirit world was waiting for me to make my first journey. He said he already knew who I was and he called me the shaman of the great city. So, anyway, when I got the herbs and the directions to make the spirit walk tea, I waited until I'd have time alone and tried it. But I didn't go to the spirit world. All I did was float around out of my body and then I saw the accident and I knew I had to get help to them so I found you. I was hoping you'd be able to hear me."

"Why didn't you just go back to your body and call in about the accident."

"I couldn't take that chance. Yesterday, when I came back into my body, I slept for hours before I could get up and move."

"You mean this is the second time you've done this?" Jim exclaimed, angrily. "One near death experience wasn't enough for you, you had to go for another one?"

"No, it's not like that. I just floated around a little, went to the station and watched Rafe working and Henry eating a Snickers bar and then I went right back home and fell asleep and then you called and woke me up."

"I can't believe you'd take a chance like this, Sandburg."

"I'm sorry, Jim. I'm only trying to be the best shaman I can be for you."

"I appreciate that Blair, but you're already everything I need in my guide. I don't want you taking any more risks."

"Don't worry. I used all the tea up anyway. Besides, I'm obviously no good at this spirit walking thing anyway. All I seem to be able to do is float around, no visits to the spirit world to gain mystical insights for me."

"I don't want mystical insights from you. Just normal everyday Blair Sandburg insights are fine with me."

"Okay."

*

Jim called and checked on the status at the accident scene. The last of the four teenagers was being transported. The other three, including Daryl Banks were already at Cascade general. He called Cascade general and was advised that Daryl Banks was in surgery getting his broken arm repaired.

"Do you mind if we go straight to the hospital, Jim?" Simon asked, wanting to get to his son as quickly as possible.

"No, that's fine, sir." Jim said.

"You can take my car from there and head home." Simon said. "Get this thing with Sandburg taken care of and then come back to the hospital when you can."

"Sounds good." Jim said.

They drove along another fifteen minutes.

"Jim" Blair's weak voice called out from the back seat.

Jim turned to face his partner, immediately concerned by what he saw.

"Chief, what is it?"

Sandburg's image was wavering, fading in and out.

"I don't feel so good. I don't know what's happening." Blair said.

Suddenly, he was no longer in Simon's car, but lying on the floor of the loft

Looking up at the ceiling. Then just as suddenly, he was back in the car.

He looked up at Jim, who was looking frantically toward him.

"Blair, what's happening?"

"I don't know. I think something's wrong." He knew he was dying. He could feel his life energy falling away from him. "I'm sorry, Jim. Don't hate me. I didn't mean for this to happen." Blair cried. "Tell my mom I love her."

"No, No, Blair. You'll tell her yourself. You're not going anywhere, you hear me?" Jim yelled.

"I can't, Jim. I'm sorry. I think I'm dying, Jim. I'm sorry."

"No!"

Blair faded away.

"No.." Jim moaned. He turned to Simon, who was looking over at him trying to figure out what was going on.

"Simon, you have to drop me off at home. I have to get there now. Something's wrong with Blair. I have to get there now! Please, Simon."

Simon took one look at the fear on Jim's face and flipped the switch to start his car lights and siren, jamming his foot on the gas pedal at the same time. Within a few minutes they were pulling up in front of the loft. Jim took off as soon as the car slowed down, Simon following right behind him.

The loft was dark, the curtains drawn against the waning afternoon sun, cold candles covered the coffee table and a spilled over mug dripped a brown liquid onto the floor. In between the table and the couch, Blair's cold, pale body was lying on its back, eyes open staring off into nothing.

Jim stopped abruptly halfway into the room, afraid to go any closer and find that his guide was indeed dead. He felt a scream well up from deep within himself but he swallowed it down before it could escape. No time for that now. Maybe there was still a chance.

Simon rushed in after him, going straight for the body. Jim stood there watching as his friend checked for vital signs, glancing up at him, then back to check again. Then he stood and took a step toward the phone.

No, No, he can't be dead. We can't be too late! Jim threw himself down next to Blair's body and put his hands on either side of his neck. He was cold, but not cold enough for a corpse. Jim listened, tuning in to hear his guide's heartbeat. Where was his heartbeat?. It had to be here. It had to be!

*

Blair looked for Jim. He called for him, but there was no sense of his sentinel nearby. And yet, somebody was here with him. He looked around. It seemed he was on a mountain top. All around him he could see lush green lands stretching out as far as he could see. The air was fresh and clean and the sky was a peaceful blue. How had he gotten here?

He looked out over the side of a cliff on one side. It was a long drop. A hand on his shoulder startled him and he almost lost his balance.

"Not yet, young one." An ancient voice said quietly.

He turned to see an old man, hair as white as the clouds, skin as dark as night and weathered by many years in the sun. The man smiled, a semi-toothless grin.

"I am Shibu. I am here to guide you, young shaman. It is your time to journey."

Blair stared at him. "Am I dead?"

Shibu chuckled. "That is always the question, is it not?"

Blair glared at him in irritation. "So, what is the answer, then?"

"What is death, but a journey?" Shibu said, smiling. "And you are ready for a journey, or you would not be here now."

"What about my sentinel? He needs me." Blair argued.

"You are the shaman of the great city. It has been said. Your journey will take you where you need to go. Your sentinel will always be your sentinel."

"But he needs me."

"I have no answer for you, young shaman. Your answer lies in your journey. At the end of it, you will know your destiny. You have chosen it. There is no turning back now." Shibu smiled, looking at Blair with the tenderness of a father for his child. "Your journey awaits."

Blair nodded. "I'm ready."

"Then proceed." Shibu motioned over the side of the cliff.

Blair looked down, then back at Shibu, who grinned and promptly disappeared.

"Okay, I get the message. I have to do this alone." Blair said, turning back to the cliff.

He took one last look at the beauty around him, a deep breath of the clean air, and he stepped off the side.

*

Jim struggled with his senses, trying desperately to find any evidence that his best friend and guide was still alive. He couldn't detect a heartbeat, no breathing, no body heat. He moved into position, tilting Blair's head back, and leaned over to begin respirations.

Suddenly, Blair gasped and choked, trying to take air into his oxygen starved body. Jim pulled him up and leaned him against his own chest, rubbing his back as he struggled to pull in enough air.

"It's okay. It's okay." Jim said over and over, more to reassure himself than Blair.

Simon looked on, convinced he had just witnessed a miracle, again. What was it with these two? He smiled as it became apparent that Sandburg was alive.

Jim could already feel his guide warming up. He reached over and pulled the blanket off the couch and wrapped it around him.

Blair's breathing evened out and he blinked a few times and looked around.

"Jim?"

"Yeah, Chief. Everything's okay now. You're okay."

"I'm sorry I scared you, Jim. But I had to go. He said it was time for me to take my journey and I walked off the side of a cliff. I was sooo scared, but it was great and now I know."

"You have to promise me you won't EVER do anything like this again!" Jim demanded.

"Don't worry, Jim. I don't need to do it again. I understand now. It isn't the spirit walk that makes a shaman. It's the understanding and fulfillment of destiny. I am your guide and you are my sentinel. It's just that simple."

Jim absorbed what Blair was saying and nodded, realizing that even though he had accepted his duty as sentinel and the role of Blair in his life as his guide, Blair had only just now come to understand and accept that he was rightfully the sentinel's guide.

Until now, he had always harbored doubts that he was good enough, that he was equal to the task. Now, because of some kind of spirit journey that had almost killed him, Blair now understood that of course he was good enough to be Jim's guide, since it was his destiny.

*

The paramedics arriving on the scene of a reported cardiac arrest were surprised to find the apparent victim sitting up with a smile on his face, heartbeat and respiration completely normal.

"I'm fine, really. I just passed out." Blair explained to them. "I haven't been eating for the past couple of days. I was fasting for meditation and I guess I just went a little too far. I'm fine now, though. I really don't need to go to the hospital, okay?"

"I don't know Chief. Maybe we should have you checked out." Jim suggested.

"No! I'll be fine. A nice long nap and I'll be as good as new."

Blair signed the waiver form for the paramedics and they carried their equipment out and went on their way.

Simon hung up the phone and turned to the Sentinel and Guide, now sitting side by side on the couch, Blair leaning into Jim, looking sleepy but content, Jim's arm around Blair's shoulder.

"Well, it looks like all four of the kids are going to be fine. Rodney has a minor concussion, his girlfriend broke her leg, Daryl's girlfriend, Sherrilyn has a concussion but is expected to recover with no problems, and Daryl's surgery went fine. His arm has been set with a pin that will be removed in a later surgery, but other than that he's going to be fine. He's still in recovery, so if I get moving now, I can probably be there when he gets moved into a room."

"Okay. I'm sorry about holding you up here, Simon. I know you wanted to go straight there." Jim said.

"I'm just glad it worked out like it did. I don't really understand what happened with you too, but everybody's fine now, so I don't think I want to know. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Jim said.

"Right, Simon." Blair said, smiling.

Simon headed for the door, turning back as he went through it. "Oh, and Sandburg, I don't know how you did it and I don't want to know, but thanks for letting Jim know about the accident. The doctor said if they had been out there a few more hours, Daryl might have lost too much blood."

"Tell Daryl we'll come in to see him tomorrow." Blair said.

"You got it." Simon said, closing the door behind him.

"So Chief, want me to fix you something to eat, or maybe something warm to drink? How about a cup of tea?"

Blair looked at Jim and laughed. "Jim, I think I've had enough tea for awhile."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, I guess you have."

 

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Dar Hutson Scally.
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