New
Arrivals
Author-Suzie
Titles
It Shouldn't Be Like This
by Suzie
Summary: Kids, guns, and school.
Disclaimer: Some of the characters in this story belong to the UPN Network and Pet Fly Productions as part of the television show The Sentinel. I do not claim these characters as my own. No money has changed hands.
Notes: Thanks Jen ... for all your help, suggestions, and the dedication.
"Our schools must be places where kids aren't bullied, where guns and other weapons do not get through the door, where teachers aren't threatened ..."
-- Vice President Gore
***
"Courage is resistance to fear,
Mastery of fear ~~ not absence of fear."
-- Mark Twain
######
School Incidents, as they had become known, were on the rise. There had been three incidents involving guns in school in two months. Senators Grade School had a case of an eight-year-old bringing his father's handgun in for show-n-tell. The child accidentally pulled the trigger, as he retrieved the gun from his lunchbox. Five students and the teacher were shot. One of the students and the teacher died. An incident at a high school where a student was upset that he didn't get a grade on a paper he thought it deserved. He shot the teacher three times before turning the gun on himself.
Now it had happened again.
Detective Jim Ellison, and his partner, Blair Sandburg had arrived at the school shortly after the shooting took place. Three boys, ages fourteen and fifteen, had walked into Carver Middle School, and opened fire with handguns, and a shotgun. Randomly shooting anyone they saw.
EMT's were working feverishly to attend to the wounded students, and faculty. It was like walking into a dream ... a nightmare. Blair wanted to wake up, and wake up *NOW*! His chest was too tight; he couldn't breathe. There were bodies everywhere, and blood. Blood on the floor, the walls, smeared across windows, even splattered on the ceiling. *Soooo* much blood!
"Blair, you okay?" Jim asked as they walked out into the hallway. He had been monitoring his partner's vitals since they arrived. Blair's heartrate had been steadily rising, and there was little color in his face. "Why don't you go back outside? I'll meet you by the truck."
Blair swallowed hard, and took a deep shuddering breath. "No ... no, I'm okay Jim. You need me here."
"C'mon Chief, you don't need to see all this," Jim said quietly, concerned.
"No Jim, you've nearly zoned twice already on all ...," Blair motioned silently with his hands to the area around them. "... this. I'll be fine." I won't sleep for the rest of my life, but I'll be *fine*.
Jim scrubbed his hands over his face, he knew that Blair was right. He had nearly zoned on the sights, and smells that were assaulting him from every corner of the school. When they had first arrived Jim could hear moans, and cries of pain, but now there were no sounds to reach his ultra sensitive ears. Not a cry, or moan, or a single heartbeat could be heard. Twenty-five students, five teachers, the principal, and his secretary were all dead. Another thirty people had been injured, most of them severely.
"Jim, you with me here man?" Blair asked, touching Jim's elbow.
"Yeah ... yeah I'm here. Just thinking," Jim sighed. "There's a few more classrooms down this way."
There were six more bodies in the next classroom they entered. English class from the looks of the books and papers that were scattered about.
Blair was staring at the body of a girl still sitting upright at her desk, still clutching a pencil in her right hand. If it weren't for the blood you'd think she was napping. Blair couldn't tear his eyes from the body.
Jim noticed his pale, and shaking Guide, and gently steered Blair back out into the hall. Jim led the way to the nearest exit. You've seen enough. "Let's get outta here Chief. I need some air."
As they stepped outside, Blair's knees buckled, and he stumbled.
Jim captured his partner, and let him lean against the brick building. "Easy does it buddy, take a deep breath."
Blair complied with his Sentinel, and sucked in a lung full of air. "Jim, why can't we stop this?"
"We're doing *everything* we can," Jim said, keeping a low, soothing tone to his voice that seemed to work on his Guide at these times. "You know that."
Blair finally looked up into Jim's eyes, "I know Jim ... really, but it just makes me feel *soooo* ... incredibly ..."
Jim felt the shoulders he held relax slightly. "I know, I feel helpless too right now."
"Jim ..."
Jim shook his head, and said, "No, let's get outta here."
**********
Jim got up night after night to wake Blair from troubled dreams, to calm him, and let him talk until he fell back to sleep. Finally after nearly two weeks the nightmares slowly began to abate, letting both men get more sleep.
"Sleep okay last night Chief?" Jim asked, when Blair came out of his room one morning.
Blair smiled, "Yeah ... I did, thanks. How 'bout you?"
"Best sleep I've had in awhile," Jim grinned.
Blair sat at the table across from the Sentinel, pushing sleep tousled hair back before taking a drink from his mug of coffee. He looked at his friend, "I am like *sooo* sorry about the last few weeks man. About keeping you up and all, but I promise it's getting better Jim."
"Don't worry about it Chief," Jim said quietly. "If I didn't care, I wouldn't get up in the middle of the night ... okay?"
"Yeah ... okay, but I still feel bad."
"You'll get over it I'm sure," Jim chuckled. "You going in to the university this morning, or to the station with me?"
"Got a faculty meeting at nine. Then I'll be grading finals, and working on a paper for one of my classes. It's Wednesday, so I've got office hours 'til five," Blair explained.
"Guess that answers that question," Jim quipped.
"Do you need me today?" Blair added quickly. "'Cause if you do I can always change a few things around if you do."
"No Blair ... calm down. I was just kidding."
"Oh ... okay. Call if ya need me though ... right?" Blair said, letting out a small, relived sigh.
"I promise to call if I need you."
**********
It was just after lunch, and Blair was in his office working when the first shots rang out. He jumped, but thought it was a car backfiring until he heard the screams. As Blair walked out into the hallway more shots could be heard, and several students ran past.
"What the hell's going on?" Blair asked himself.
Cautiously Blair edged his way to the door of the office where the shots had come from. As he peeked around the corner, Blair saw Lenore Curtis, a friend and fellow teacher, on the floor next to her desk. Blood was quickly pooling around her prone body. Blair recognized the young man that stood several feet away, a blank statement on his colorless face as he put the barrel of a gun up under his chin and pulled the trigger. Time ran in slow motion, as Blair watched the student's head explode.
**********
"Ellison!" Captain Simon Banks barked, as he walked quickly out of his office.
Jim looked up from his computer.
"There's been a shooting over at Rainier University!"
Jim felt his breath catch for the moment before he stood, grabbing his jacket on his way to follow the Captain.
**********
They arrived just behind the police units.
Simon, being the ranking officer at the scene, took the operation in hand. Giving orders to the waiting officers, then turning to the detective standing next to him. "Can you tell how many people are in there Jim?"
Jim focused Sentinel senses, picking up only one rapid heartbeat, and the strong smell of blood. "There's only one person alive in there sir." Jim looked at Simon with relief, "It's Blair." I'd know him anywhere.
Jim led the way into the building, following the heartbeat straight to his Guide. He found Blair cradling Lenore's body in his lap. "Oh my God," Jim breathed.
"You just hang on Lenore ... hear me?" Blair was whispering, rocking slightly. "Help's comin' ... just hang on."
Another officer checked the body of the obviously dead student, as Jim dropped to the floor next to his friend. "Blair?"
Blair looked up then, his face wet with tears, "Thank goodness you're here Jim. Where's the ambulance? Lenore needs to get to the hospital."
Even without enhanced senses Jim knew that the victim was dead. She'd been shot at least three times in the chest, and twice in the head. Jim shook his head slowly, looking sadly into Blair's eyes, "It's too late buddy ... she's gone."
Blair shook his head, looking down at the women in his arms. "No," he whispered.
"C'mon Chief, let her go now," Jim said gently, trying to move Blair's hands away.
"No!" Blair cried sharply. "She'll bleed to death if I let go Jim! Where's the paramedics?!"
Jim nearly choked on the emotion he felt. "Blair, that's not going to help now. She's dead."
Blair began to tremble, as he looked into Jim's tear filled eyes. "No ... no ..."
Jim eased the body out of Blair's grip, gently resting her on the floor. Noticing that Blair was covered with blood, Jim suddenly became concerned. "Are you hurt Blair?"
Blair didn't look at Jim, he continued to stare at Lenore's body. "Huh?"
Jim pulled the young man around to face him. "Are you hurt?"
"Ah ... no." Blair turned back to look once more at Lenore Curtis. "She was engaged to be married. They'd just set the date," he mumbled.
Jim hoisted his partner to his feet as he stood. "Let's get outta here Chief." He knew Blair was going into shock.
Simon spotted the two as they exited the building. He jogged over to where Jim was sitting Blair down on a bench. "Is Sandburg okay Jim?" the captain asked, concern evident in his voice.
"Yes sir ... he's a little shocky, but he wasn't injured." Physically.
"Coroner's on the way. Do we know what happened?"
"Not yet, but I ..."
"He shot her," Blair stated quietly.
Jim sat down next to Blair, "What was that Chief?"
"His name's Jeffery Collins. Lenore had to fail him, which meant he'd lose his scholarship." Blair took a shuddering breath. "She told me he was pretty angry about it, but she wasn't afraid ... didn't think that ... this ..."
"Shh," Jim soothed, letting one hand lightly grip Blair's shoulder. "We'll talk about it later."
Blair wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.
"You cold Chief?"
Blair nodded, and Jim slipped out of his jacket. It was too big of course, but it was warm with Jim's body heat, and Blair was grateful for it.
A uniformed officer appeared, and told the captain that the student's car had been located.
"Jim, I know you'd rather not," Simon began. "But I'd like you to take a quick look at this kid's car."
Jim looked from the captain to Blair, "Hey buddy, will you be okay for a few minutes?"
Blair nodded, "Yeah ... go ahead Jim."
"Holler if you need me. You know I'll hear you."
Blair nodded again, "Okay, thanks."
Some time later, a gurney was wheeled out with Lenore Curtis' body on it. The white sheet she'd been covered with splattered with her drying blood.
Blair stood, making his way toward the gurney. The attendants stopped when he asked them to.
Pulling down the sheet Blair whispered, "I am *sooo* sorry Lenore. This should not have happened."
Jim stepped up beside his partner, and pulled the sheet back into place, "No Chief, it shouldn't have." He signaled the attendants to go ahead. "Let's go home."
**********
Blair was silent on the ride home, not even responding to Jim's questions. Jim listened to the hammering beat of Blair's heart, could see the shaking of his entire body from within Jim's jacket.
"Why don't you go get a shower Chief," Jim told Blair after they entered the loft.
Blair shrugged out of Jim's jacket, and handed it to the bigger man. "'Kay, I won't ... ah ... be long," he said quietly, sounding distant, and unsure.
Jim watched as Blair walked slowly, dazedly to the bathroom. He knew that the reality of the situation would hit soon.
Blair closed the door to the bathroom and flicked the light on. He looked at himself in the mirror, and for the first time *saw* the blood that covered his arms, hands, and had soaked his clothes from his chest to his thighs. Staring at his reflection for several minutes Blair felt numb, cold, and afraid. He kept seeing Lenore Curtis and Jeffery Collins. Kept seeing the gun, and that awful moment when it went off. Then he began to shake violently, as tears flowed down his cheeks. "NO!" Blair suddenly screamed. He drove his fists into the mirror in an effort to banish the images. "No! No! No!" he repeated, as he hit the shattered glass again and again.
Jim rushed into the bathroom. "Shit! Blair Stop!" he said, grabbing his friend's wrists to stop any further damage.
Blair struggled wildly, crying hysterically.
Jim gathered him into a tight embrace, pulling the smaller man's back against his chest, and bracing himself against the wall. "Shh! Easy does it buddy," he said quietly.
Slowly Blair's struggling ceased, and he went limp against Jim. "Why?" he sobbed, clinging to Jim's arms that were wrapped around him. "Why Jim? Why does it keep happening?" Blair let his head fall back onto Jim's shoulder.
Jim pushed the sweat-dampened hair from Blair's pale, tear streaked face. "I don't know Chief. If I did then maybe I could stop it from happening again."
"She was my friend Jim," Blair sobbed quietly, turning to press into Jim's chest.
"I know she was and I know this is hard," Jim soothed quietly. "But, we'll get through this Blair ... together." He examined Blair's hands, "Let's get you cleaned up so I can check these cuts."
**********
Jim swept up the broken mirror glass, staying with Blair as he showered and dressed. He spoke quietly, keeping things as calm as possible. Blair was still shaky as Jim examined, then bandaged both of Blair's hands. The young man hadn't said anything, but took great comfort in Jim's presence and caring patience.
"Doesn't look bad Chief, I got all the glass out," Jim said, as he finished wrapping Blair's left hand to match his right. "We'll keep an eye on 'em though ... just to make sure there's no infection."
"Jim," Blair finally said, his voice little more than a whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Jim replied, as he cleared away the first-aid supplies off the table. He went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of warm soup.
"Thanks man, but I'm not hungry right know," Blair sighed when Jim set the bowl in front of him. "Think I'll just go to bed."
"Eat some soup first, you need something on your stomach."
Blair opened his mouth to protest, but Jim cut him off with an affectionate smile saying, "Humor me."
Blair managed a slight smile and picked up the spoon. The soup warmed him from the inside, and he hadn't realized he was hungry. By the time he had finished the bowl, Blair was ready to go to bed. As exhausted as he felt, Blair thought he would have no trouble sleeping. He thought wrong ... and Jim knew it.
**********
Captain Banks looked up from his desk to see Jim drag his way into Major Crimes and detour to the break room for a cup of coffee. He waited until the detective was returning to his desk, then went to the door of his office.
"Jim, can I see you for few minutes?" Simon called from the doorway.
Jim entered the office and closed the door. "Yes sir?"
"You look like hell," Simon started. "Bad night?"
"Yeah, Blair had nightmares all night. Neither of us got much sleep."
"The kid's not taking it too well, huh?"
"The victim ... Lenore Curtis, she was a friend of his," Jim sighed, pacing the office slowly. "She died in his arms, Simon. When we got home he went to take a shower ... I'm not sure what happened. The whole thing sort of hit him all at once I think, and he went crazy ... hysterical." Jim halted his movement to look at the Captain. "It scared the crap outta me Simon! Blair had pounded the bathroom mirror until it shattered!"
"Is he all right?" Simon asked.
"Yeah, the cuts weren't too bad. But ..."
Detective Brown knocked on the door before opening it. "Sorry to interrupt, but there's a call for Jim ... it's Rainier University."
Jim froze, as the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
"Transfer the call in here," Simon told Brown.
"This is Jim Ellison," he said into the phone. Jim listened for several moments, his face creased into a worried frown. "He what?!" Oh my God! "Can you ... just hold onto it for awhile. I need time to talk to him, find out what's going on." Jim rubbed his fingers into tired eyes as he listened. "Yes, thank you, I'll be in touch."
"What is it Jim?" Simon asked, as the detective hung up the phone.
"Blair had a ... a panic attack I guess ... in the middle of the class he was teaching."
"Oh no."
"He walked out ... turned in his resignation, and left."
"What?!" Simon said, shocked.
"Yeah ... They're going to hold the resignation though, until I can talk to him. I've got to go find him sir."
"Go ... keep me informed."
Jim nodded, then was gone.
**********
Jim went to the loft first, hoping his young partner would have gone there. But when he arrived there was no sign of Blair.
"Okay Ellison think," Jim said to himself. "Where would your obviously distraught Guide go?" After several minutes of pacing, it came to him. "When Blair's upset or stressed ... what does he do? He meditates," Jim continued talking to himself as he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. "And what does he like when he meditates?" he said, as he locked the door and headed for the elevator. "Blair likes nature."
Marshall Park, half way between the loft and the university, was Blair's favorite. It was all wooded, had walking trails, was quiet, relaxing, and there wouldn't be too many people there at this time. Jim had no problem locating the familiar scent and heartbeat that took the Sentinel straight to his Guide.
"Blair?" Jim called softly when he came upon the younger man sitting next to a tree off the trail.
"Hey big guy," Blair greeted solemnly, not looking up as he picked at the grass.
"The university called."
Blair still didn't look at the detective. " I'm sorry Jim, they shouldn't have bothered you at work."
"I'm glad they did Chief. Wanna talk about it?"
"No ... not yet." Blair looked up then, unshed tears brimming reddened, pleading eyes, "But if you want to sit with me a bit ... that'd be cool."
Without a second thought, Jim lowered himself to the ground next to Blair. "How long you been here?"
Blair shrugged, now throwing pebbles at a pinecone, "Couple hours I guess, I started to go home, but ended up here."
"It's nice here, not too many people right now."
"Yeah, I wanted to do some thinking."
"About what?" Jim asked, leaning back against the tree.
Blair shrugged again, "Lots of stuff."
They fell silent then, listening to the soft rustle as the breeze passed through trees, the twittering of birds and the chattering of squirrels. Jim's senses picking up the occasional catches in Blair's breathing and slight shudder that passed through his body.
A half-hour past before Blair broke the silence. "I know you're disappointed in me Jim. I'm sorry," he whispered, fingering the bandages that were wrapped around his hands.
"I'm not disappointed in you Chief," Jim said gently. "I am worried about you though."
Blair sighed deeply. "A janitor was out in the hallway changing some burned out lights," he started. "The door to the classroom was open, the janitor knocked a box of bulbs off the ladder." Blair buried his face in his hands, "It sounded like gun shots man ... and I just ... freaked." He looked up into the trees above them, "All I could see was Lenore."
"You had a flashback Chief," Jim said calmly. He reached to rub Blair back lightly, feeling the tension in every part of him. "It's a normal reaction for what's happened."
"Aw Jim, I totally panicked man!" Blair said, sounding disgusted with himself. "I ran out of there without thinking ... went and locked myself in my office for I don't know how long."
They were quiet again for a few minutes. Blair taking comfort in the stroking Jim was doing on his back.
"Why'd you turn in your resignation Blair?" Jim finally asked.
"I can't ...," Blair choked, trying to hold back the tears. "I can't do it anymore."
"Why?"
"How can I teach if I have to be afraid that a student will get mad and kill me over something like a grade? How can I *learn* if I have to be afraid to go to my classes?"
"What about the dissertation?" Jim asked quietly. "You're so close to being done with it."
Blair shrugged, then whispered, "I'm sorry Jim."
"Nothing to be sorry for buddy. We'll get through this ... whatever you decide."
Blair turned to look at the big man next to him, "Thanks ... for not hating me."
Jim frowned worriedly, "Hate you? Why would I hate you Chief?"
"For quitting."
"You're not quitting Blair," Jim said quickly. "You're just in a little bit of a stall."
That earned Jim a slight smile from his friend.
Jim pushed himself to his feet. "What say we head home. *I'm* gettin' hungry," he said, holding a hand out to Blair.
Blair nodded, grasping the offered hand and was pulled to his feet.
"Feel like driving, or you want to come with me," Jim asked, as he brushed the dirt from his pants.
"I'm okay Jim." Blair glanced around, and not seeing anyone caught Jim in a quick hug. "Thanks for understanding."
Jim returned the embrace, "Not a problem Chief."
**********
Dinner was relaxed. Blair steered the conversation away from himself by asking Jim how his day went at the station. The Rutan case was proving difficult and Blair had no problem getting the detective to talk about his frustrations over it. Besides, Jim knew there would be time to discuss Blair's situation over the next few days.
As they began to clear the table and prepared to wash dishes, the phone rang.
"Ellison," Jim said into the receiver, as he stepped into the living room away from the kitchen noise.
"Hey Jim," Simon said. "I just received a phone call from the Mayor. Seems he and the Principal of Senators Grade School are wanting to hold an assembly at the school next Wednesday."
"And this would be for what?" Jim asked suspiciously.
"Well, the PTA and the Principal has arranged for several psychologists to come to this assembly to help the teachers and students better deal with last months shooting incident. They, and the Mayor, agreed it might help if some of the officers that have been involved in the recent school incidences could talk to the kids."
Jim started to form his respectful decline when he glimpsed Blair standing at the sink in the kitchen. The kid needs to talk about what's happened, and his feelings, Jim thought. Maybe this would be the way to get it done, and help the kids too. "Okay Captain, you can count both me and Sandburg in on this."
Simon was surprised, but happy with Jim compliance. After telling Jim what time to be at Senators Grade School, they said their good-byes and Jim went back to the kitchen.
"Was that Simon?" Blair asked innocently.
"Yep ... he was looking for a file I was working on today," Jim lied. No need to get him all worked up right now.
**********
"Just *when were* you going to tell me about this little ... get together, Ellison?!" Blair snarled at the detective, angrily pacing the sidewalk outside Senators Grade School.
Ah oh ... he's calling me Ellison, Jim thought. I'm in *BIIIIG* trouble here!
The captain had met the two in front of the school, and thanked Jim and Blair for volunteering to help with the grade school assembly. "I had *assumed* you would have told him before now," Simon frowned.
"Chief, I ..." Jim tried.
"How dare you volunteer me like that ... and for *this*!!" Blair sputtered angrily.
"I didn't *volunteer* you Chief. I told Simon that we both would *be* there. I didn't say a thing 'bout you talkin' or anything."
Blair stopped and turned darkened eyes on his Sentinel. The look that Blair saw on Jim's face was one of concern, and caring ... friendship.
"Blair ... I'm sorry," Jim said quietly. "I ... well ..."
"Is there something else you should be telling me Jim?"
Good, I'm back to being Jim again. "I just thought that if you *listened* to these kids, heard what they've been going through since the shooting ... that maybe you wouldn't feel ... well, so alone Chief."
A large piece of Blair's anger melted away. "I'm not alone big guy. Not with friends like you and Simon."
"Yeah ... well ... even though Simon and I have been through shootings ... and have lost people in those situations, we haven't been through what *you* are going through. I haven't been much help in your recovery."
"Jim, I ..."
"No," Jim said, holding up a hand to stop Blair's protest. "Simon and I, and all the others in the department have been trained to deal with it ... you haven't. You don't have to do anything you don't want to Chief. You don't even have to go in if you don't want to."
Blair's gaze drifted to the school building.
"But ... I was sort of hoping that ..."
"Okay ... I'll go in," Blair sighed resolutely. Only 'cause *you* want me to. "But I can't guarantee I'll talk to anyone."
Jim smiled gently, "It's entirely your call here Chief." Yeess!
"But you didn't answer me before Jim," Blair said. "When *were* you going to tell me about this?"
Jim draped an arm across the smaller man's shoulders, as the three of them headed toward the entrance of the building. "Let's go in Chief, before they start without us."
**********
The gym was filled with students, parents, doctors, people from Cascade PD, and one very nervous Anthropologist.
Blair wandered slowly among the small groups of people, hearing little bits of conversation, questions, answers ... and tears. Some of the things he heard brought back the images of Lenore Curtis and Jeffery Collins. He felt himself shiver as those images pushed into his minds eye, and without conscious thought he headed back to where Jim was.
Jim sat on the floor with a small group of seven and eight-year-olds. He was doing his best to answer the questions the children asked in a way they could understand.
"But why?" asked one little boy. "People shouldn't hurt each other."
"No ... no they shouldn't hurt each other ... but sometimes it just happens," Jim replied. He knew he wasn't helping these kids and looked helplessly at Blair as he sat down next to him.
One little girl started crying.
Blair glanced quickly at Jim, then scooted around to where the crying youngster sat with her face in her hands. Scooping her onto his lap, Blair asked, "What's wrong?"
"Miss Janson died," the little girl sobbed. "And it's my fault."
"Who's Miss Janson?"
"She was our teacher," another child said sadly.
Blair cradled the little girl against his shoulder. "What's your name?" he asked softly.
"Dara."
"That's a very pretty name Dara. My name's Blair." He smoothed the silky blond hair with one gentle hand. "Why is it your fault that Miss Janson died?"
"I ... I was going back to my seat ... after I did my turn," Dara sniffled. "There was all this loud popping, and ... and ..." she couldn't finish, as she broke into tears again.
Another tearful little girl finished, "Miss Janson grabbed her ... and then she fell on top of Dara. Miss Janson didn't move. It wasn't Dara's fault."
"Shh now," Blair soothed the bundle on his lap. "Of course it wasn't your fault Dara."
"Yes it was!" Dara wailed.
"I think Miss Janson was trying to protect her," a boy said quietly.
"Todd didn't know the gun was a bad thing," the next boy said. "His dad had just got it, and he thought it was neat."
Blair looked down at the child still sobbing quietly in his arms and hugged her a little closer. "Dara," he said quietly, gently brushing her soft hair away from her face. "It really wasn't your fault Miss Janson got killed."
Dara lifted her tear-streaked face to look at Blair. "Why not?" she sobbed, as she wiped her nose with her shirtsleeve.
"Because," Blair began, looking for words the children would understand. "Because Miss Janson was your teacher, and by being your teacher, she was also your friend." Blair looked at the young faces in the group, "She made all of you her friends. You felt the same way right?" He paused as the small heads bobbed up and down in agreement before he continued, "Friends do that for one another. They help you when you're sick, and hold you when you're scared ... and they protect you when you're in danger." Blair sighed, contemplating his next words. "Even though Todd didn't mean it, when he touched his father's gun he became dangerous. You should **NEVER** touch a gun. Guns are dangerous and they hurt people. Miss Janson knew that, and she did what any friend would do ... she protected her friends." Blair turned, and looked at Jim, "See that big guy right there? He's my friend, and when he gets in trouble I have to help him out, because that's what friends do." Blair paused again to look at Dara. "Miss Janson did just what a teacher ... what a friend ... would do. She protected you Dara, and she tried to protect her other friends. It's really sad that she got hurt doing it, but even though it's bad, it happens sometimes. Blair looked up at the rest of the children, "So if you *EVER* see a friend playing with something that's dangerous, like a gun, you've got to tell a grownup okay? Because by doing that you'll keep your friend safe, and you want to be the best friend you can be, right?" Blair smiled, as the children nodded once again, clearly understanding what he was trying to say.
Dara shifted, and took one of Blair's bandaged hands carefully into her own tiny hand. "Is that how you got hurt? By protectin' your friend?"
Blair glared at Jim for a moment. I *know* you planned this Jim, he thought. Then said, "Well ... not really."
Jim silently gathered the children closer to Blair. "You know," Jim said, "Blair's a good friend of mine, and he's been through a bad experience too. Something like what you've all been going through."
Dara looked back at Blair, rubbing his injured hands gently, "So that's how you got hurt? The same way like us?"
Blair glared at Jim again. I *REALLY* don't want to go into this now, he told the bigger man with his eyes, then looked back down at Dara. "Yeah ... sort of."
Jim seized the opportunity, "Why don't you tell the kids what happened to you Blair? Maybe it will help them understand by knowing how you've gotten through it."
Blair sighed, looking at each of the children, then at Jim again. "I don't know if I can."
"Please Blair," Dara said. "The Psycho ologist said that it helps to talk 'bout what's in here," she explained, patting the side of Blair's head gently.
Blair couldn't help but smile. "Okay ... I'll try."
By the time Blair had finished his story, leaving out the more gruesome details, there was quite a gathering. Teachers, parents, and students had stepped over to listen to Blair's experience. He was a little shaky as he remembered the details, but took comfort in Jim's presence, and little Dara stroking her small fingers through his hair.
"So, why did you hurt yourself?" a boy asked.
"I didn't mean to hurt myself. I don't really even remember doing it," Blair said, looking at Jim's concerned face. "I was just very upset about what had happened. I remember looking in the mirror, and seeing my friend dying ... and the next thing I knew the mirror was shattered, and my hands were bleeding."
"Were you all alone?" Dara asked. "The Psycho ologist said we shouldn't be alone."
"Yeah, he said that we should be with our families and stuff," a little girl said.
"And not be afraid to talk about what happened," another chimed in.
"No, I wasn't alone. Jim was with me," Blair answered, indicating the detective. "He's been a good friend, and has helped me survive this. And the Psychologist is right. You should keep friends and family nearby, so there's *always* someone for you to talk to."
"Blair? What do you teach?" Dara asked.
"Anthropology," Blair answered. Or at least I used to.
"What's Antropolgy?" someone asked.
Blair couldn't help but chuckle at the mispronunciation, "An Anthropologist is someone who studies very old things that have been buried in the ground for hundreds of years."
"I'm gonna be an Antropolgist when I grow up," Dara said insistantly.
"You are?"
"Yeah, and I want you to be my teacher."
Blair gazed into the little girl's wide, bright eyes for a moment. "I'll be waiting for you."
Dr. Kolby, one of the Psychologists, joined the group then and Blair was glad the spotlight was off of him. It was an opportunity to get away and he excused himself. Blair said good-bye to the people in the group and placed a gentle kiss on Dara's forehead before scooting her carefully onto the floor.
Jim stood, and followed Blair outside.
"You okay there buddy?" Jim asked, noticing the tremors that were running through the smaller man's frame.
"Yeah Jim, I'm fine," Blair said, smiling tiredly. "Can we go home now?"
Jim placed a reassuring hand on Blair's back. "Sure, let's go."
**********
"You did good today Chief," Jim said, as he and Blair settled down on the sofa after dinner.
"Thanks Jim," Blair muttered quietly.
"Feel okay?" Jim asked.
Blair hesitated sighing, then said, "Talking about what happened made me realize what a good friend you are to me."
"*We* are good friends to each other," Jim said.
"I don't know anyone else who would've done what you've done. Most would disappear, not wanting to deal with me and my problems." Blair turned to look into Sentinel eyes. "But not you. You've been here for me ... every time."
"Well ... it goes both ways Chief. I've never known anyone like you and you've been through a lot with me and these senses of mine. We're friends, and friends help you when you're sick, hold you when you're scared, and protect you when you're in danger," Jim said, repeating Blair's words. "You've *always* been here for me ... and I will *always* be here for you."
**********
Epilogue
After a few days, and many talks with Jim, Blair went back to the university. Carol was the secretary who had called Jim that day about Blair and the resignation. She was glad, and more than willing to hand the paper to Blair for him to tear up.
"Your students have been asking about you," Carol told him. "They've been worried."
"About me?" Blair asked in disbelief.
Carol smiled, "They understand what you've gone through. Don't be afraid to talk to them Blair. They *are* your friends."
<>~~<>~~<>
end
A PRAYER FOR THE CHILDREN
We pray for the Children
who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can't bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,
who never "counted potatoes,"
who are born in places where we wouldn't be caught dead,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an X-rated world.
We pray for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money.
And we pray for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who watch their parents watch them die,
who can't find any bread to steal,
who don't have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren't on anybody's dresser,
whose monsters are real.
We pray for children
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories, who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
who never rinse out the tub,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don't like to be kissed in front of the carpool,
who squirm in church or temple and scream in the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and
whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those
whose nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who aren't spoiled by anybody,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children
who want to be carried and for those who must,
who we never give up on
and for those who don't get a second chance.
For those we smother and ...
for those who will grab the hand
of anybody kind enough to offer it.
This story is dedicated to all of those who've had their lives cut short by the tidal wave of senseless schoolyard violence that's sweeping the nation. Also to their families, who are being forced to live with the loss. May they take comfort in the knowledge that there are people praying for them everywhere.