Title: After the Rain
Author/pseudonym: Silk
Email address: silkn1@worldnet.att.net
Rating: PG
Pairings: Jim/Blair
Date: 3/10/01
Category: Challenge: For Adam, First Times, Romance
Author's website: https://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/
Disclaimer: All things Sentinel belong to PetFly and Paramount. Not me. No
money changed hands.
Notes: This was written in response to Alyjude's friend Adam's Challenge.
Summary: Jim contemplates life without Blair.
Warnings: m/m, angst
*****
After the Rain
By Silk
"How will I live
without you?"
I love rain. It's like
receiving absolution for my sins. You have to love the symbolism. Rain water
washes away the little bits of grit and dirt that accumulate during our lives. Straight
from God to my skin.
Guess that's why I'm out
here on the balcony, teeth chattering as I catch my death of cold. I can feel
the fat droplets trickling down my non-existent hairline and into my face. I
enjoy the irony. You can't see the tears I'm crying.
And I can pretend that
they're not really there.
When my flesh is
thoroughly chilled, I close my eyes and pray for reprieve. Maybe I'll walk into
the living room and you'll be sitting there, looking the way you used to, an easy
smile on the lips I never kissed.
What good are enhanced
senses if I don't have the courage of my convictions? If I say I never loved
you, I would be lying. I always did. But I always thought there was more than
enough time to tell you. There never was.
Maybe you grew tired of
waiting for a man who couldn't see the truth when it was staring him right in
the face.
Maybe it was what I
always said would happen. A bigger and better opportunity came along and you
just had to seize the day by the balls and choke the life out of me, didn't
you, Chief?
I don't know what I'm
going to do without you. I never thought I would find out.
***
Did you know that if you
trace a pattern on wet glass with your finger and press too hard, it squeaks?
I'm staring out the window of the lobby door at 852 Prospect. Watching the sky
cry bitter tears.
This is as far as I got,
Jim.
I can't seem to make
myself cross the threshold. My bags are sitting on the mud-smeared linoleum
behind me, daring me to walk away for good. But I can't move.
I know I'm breathing. I
must be. I'm still conscious.
I wanted to hurt you. I
guess I succeeded beyond my wildest dreams, huh? "How will I live without
you?" That's what you said when I told you I was leaving.
You didn't ask me why. I
don't think you even cared what the answer would have been.
What would you have said
if I told you? If I just plain blurted out, I think I'm in love with you, Jim?
I'm in love and it doesn't fill me with joy *or* sadness. It just *is*.
But I want to tell you.
I want to tell you so bad, my teeth ache from clenching my jaw.
Eventually someone will
come. They'll want to come through this door. But I don't think I'll let them
just yet.
I'm waiting.
Something is going to
happen.
***
I never knew that three
flights of stairs could seem so endless. I never realized that carrying all
that baggage was what was weighing me down.
Weighing *us* down.
Once I decided to pick a
direction to move, I was stunned that my feet knew better than my head.
So I'm standing outside
the door to the loft. Listening to the rain hitting the skylight. Wishing I was
inside. Searching for the exact combination of words to make this all right.
I find my key. It's
hidden deep inside the pocket of my jacket. Guess I planned to take it along
for the ride. How Freudian is that? Burying the key to happiness. But not so
far that it can never be found.
I open the door. I see
you silhouetted on the balcony. I even know the precise moment when you realize
it's *me*.
Your head whips around
and water flies off your face. You're not wearing anything but your boxers.
Rain water is cascading down your body, flirting with each and every
well-defined muscle, each drop a wet caress.
"You came
back."
"Forgot
something."
Something like hope
lights up your eyes. I like knowing that *I* put it there.
"Yeah. Couldn't
leave without my happily ever after."
"Yeah? Where'd you
leave it, Chief?"
"Right here." I
get close enough to touch you, my index finger poking the spot where your heart
should be.
You grab my finger and
kiss it.
I could maybe get to
like the rain as much as you do.
End