A lost soul

a 'Sentinel too' pt2 missing scene

By Antonella

FEEDBACK TO: antonella_stelitano@virgilio.it

32 days

32 days ago I was dead

32 days ago I was reborn

Many things happened after that day.

I died. I was resuscitated

I had gone AMA to Sierra Verde to help Jim, and then I saw my former best friend in a passionate embrace with the woman who murdered me.

I tried to be understanding. I could understand too why my sentinel was so attracted to that crazy blonde. Really, I did.

I understood too the implications bound to survival and reproductory primal instincts.

I wonder if it's the same, also for Guides. Does it mean that in reverse positions I could behave like Jim?

Oh man, I hope not!

Because the pain that I felt when I saw Jim and Alex on the beach it was been incredible, above all when she pointed Jim's gun at me and he allowed her without a flinch.

In that instant I wasn't more afraid to die. I was already dead inside.

It was all happening again. She was murdering me again, this time in front of Jim and he wasn't doing anything to stop her.

Damn! I feel the tears threatening to come back. I'll not cry. I don't want cry but it's useless. I let to myself fall on my knees and hug my backpack I allow my inner turmoil to extinguish a bit with a few tears.

It's very late and I'm exhausted also because I'm avoiding sleeping these days.

Every night, every single night, I dream the same scene. No, isn't the fountain, neither the coldness with which Alex innocently, almost apologetically told me that she cannot leave me to live, or the walk through the Hargrove Hall's corridor like a 'dead man walking'.

No. It's something that happened some hours before this.

Me and Jim, in the bullpen, we are arguing I'm trying to reason out our recent conflicts but he with a few of harsh phrases erases in a moment 3 years of friendship, of partnership. He cannot ever trust in me.

Did I betray him? How? In what way?

Because I didn't tell him of Alex after the first day?

I tried, but he shut me up after having greeted me with his big gun in my face.

Like that night during the Macado case. That time Jim also brought up that he had offered me a job (a job that consists of filling in his paperwork, tagging along to help him with his senses, to going to stakeouts, also neglecting sometimes my University work, without to being paid.!?!?), a home (a little store-room, crazy house rules and so on.).

The truth is that everytime something goes wrong between my Sentinel and me, automatically it seems to be my fault.

All right, I made some mistakes, I know that, I should have realized by the way he was acting that there was something very wrong with Jim. But he cannot really think that I was ready to ditch all that we have accomplished together for another 'subject'.

I admit. I was excited to have found another Sentinel. I had already thought how to plan a safe meeting between Jim and Alex.

I didn't mean to deceive Jim or hurt him. How can he believe after all this time that I have been able to do something to put him in any sort of danger.

He told me that he doesn't need of me. I knew it. I never wanted to make him dependant on me.

It had never been in my intentions.

Does he believe really that my diss is more important of our friendship?

How can he miss that I'll never submit my thesis on the Sentinels? After what's happened with Brackett, even if the 'subject's name' stayed anonymous to the public as I had already planned, I understood that it was too dangerous so I began in fact to write an alternative diss on closed societies too, to protect his safety.

Why he is always ready to think the worst of me. I didn't prove my loyalty enough?. I even died because he didn't want to listen me, to give me a possibility to resolve the problem between us, letting me explain myself.

Nothing. He decided to end our friendship, our partnership because he felt himself betrayed.

And me?

I count for nothing? When I woke up in the hospital and Jim was beside me, the atmosphere was so tense. He made a joke about me being behind with my rent and I know that in a rather twisted way Jim meant to let me know that he was happy that I was still alive. That's the way he is, his way to express his emotions.

Sure, it's not much but I know him. Jim is a man of action, no a man of words.

Only, sometimes the words are needed, they are essential.

Again, when I tried to tell him what I felt during my near-death experience, he shut up me once more.

Jim stated finally that he had accepted to be a Sentinel, who and what he is, so as I struggle with my guide role.

Is there a problem? Very well, Mr Iron-Jaw Ellison solves it and the matter is closed. Definitely.

When we returned from Sierra Verde, Jim took for granted that I'd come back to live in the loft.

In fact, before he left to hunt Alex, he asked Joel, Rafe and H to put back the furniture and to put also after belongings from the motel where I went after being thrown out without ceremony by my sentinel.

A gust of cold wind seems to try to compete with the cold in my soul.

The memory of that night causes another stabbing pain in my heart. I can see over again those boxes near the door with my books, my artefacts hazardously piled up.

It was the beginning of the end.

It's true, I came back to loft after all (even if, it was no longer home to me, just a place to go at night) but I did it just because I was sure that we'd succeed to sort ourselves, to analyse what's happening to us.

We tried once or twice, but when it was the time to speak of our emotions, the words told and not told, as did our actions.

Well, Jim after a while dismissed all and closed the argument.

We have to let bygones be bygones. There's not point in raking it up.

And me, I made the mistake to let him to do it.

I have been too weak. I don't fight enough, and so, even if all in appearance seems to be all right, actually it was the contrary.

I survived that day at the fountain, but I'm dying now inside of me.

I was living a lie and I cannot live in this way.

I had need to go away for a while, maybe forever. I don't know.

I cannot live pretending, like Jim, that nothing it has happened to me.

I love Jim and I know that in his way he loves me, too.

In this particular moment, though, I cannot more bear this situation any more. It's too hard for me.

I want something else.

Perhaps it's childlike from me, but I need to vent my fears, to cry without shame myself and above all I need someone that can accept me without reserve, with my flaws, unlike Jim that probably in the past few years has simply put up with me.

Another truth that I have finally realized.

Is there in this world a person that can give me what I so desperately need?

Definitely not my mother.

I wonder where she is now.

So, here I am.

Alone with my backpack.

This morning I told Jim that a friend called me suddenly, needing my help, therefore I needed to take off immediately for Springfield, Oregon.

I could not obviously start behind Jim's back leaving a note on the kitchen table, so I.obfuscate.

I lied, alright! Sue me!

I had to go away. I have to understand if my relationship, whatever it be, is worthy to be rebuilt, if there is still something to save.

Without realizing it, I arrived at my destination.

There is a man waiting for me at the door.

He doesn't say a word but his eyes speak volumes.

It's that look, full of affection and concern that breaks down my last defence.

I let my backpack fall unceremoniously and I approach this loved figure slowly to receive the warm hug of Brother Marcus.

While I finally breakdown, sobbing in his arms, I make a wish in this place of peace.

Maybe it's too late, or maybe not.

I want try to get my life back, with or without Jim, if I have to.

Finis