Doors, Thoughts, and Line Drawings
by KungFuNurse


Blair and his incredible brain belong to Petfly.  So do all things Sentinel.
Feedback is good.  It makes me write faster. 

kungfunurse@visi.com

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Locked, locked, locked.  See, it's locked.  It's alright, alright, shhh.  It's okay...

The young boy crooned to himself, huddled in a corner of the dimly lit apartment.  Shh...'sokay Blair.  Don't be such a baby.  It's locked and they can't get it.  Shhh...stop thinking about it.

No one could get in, now.  He was safe.  Third floor.  Windows closed, up high, high, high and safe.  And locked.  Safe and high and locked door and no one could get in.  No one could take it.

Naomi would have understood.  Well, not really understood, but she knew about being different.  About being an albino squirrel in a world of grey tails and red furred jeering.

Blair hugged himself more tightly.  When would he learn?  He thought he'd understood them.  He'd thought he'd gotten this down.  Two weeks on the outside, watch the herd, find the leader.  Follow the leader!  C'mon crinkle head!  Keep up Shorty!  Two weeks watching in a new school, find what niche needed filling.  Did they need a clown?  A jock?  A science nerd?  He could do it.  He'd done it all.

Jennings was so slick.  He was tall and cool and even had girls in his group.  Blair decided he wanted in.  Specifically, wanted to be closer to Jennings.

Jennings liked being called by his last name.  Said all his dad's army buddies used last names and it was, like, so trippin'.

Jennings could've been one.  Blair wanted to believe that.  Wanted to believe it was scientific discovery that made him feel so...drawn to the older boy.  His heart beat fast and his hands were wet slick sweaty and thinking about Jennings' eyes and mouth made him toss the covers at night and be grumpy with Naomi at breakfast.

You see with your eyes, you taste with your mouth.  That's all.  Nothing more, Blair.  Just wondering what he sees, what he feels, that's all.  Gotta wonder about these things if you're gonna find one Blairboy.  Not wondering (what he sees when he looks at you?) anything else.  Just be cool.

Cause those other thoughts.  Not cool.  So not cool. Those were Naomi thoughts, and while it was right and cool for her and her friends to think them, you had to think different thoughts at school.  Right  thoughts.  Wrong thoughts got you beat up and hair pulled and lunch dumped down your pants when the teachers weren't looking.  He'd learned way early about right and wrong thoughts.  Tried to tell Naomi about them once but she'd just started crying and had left for a week to find herself.

That's okay.  Blair would think right thoughts for both of them.  He'd protect her, too.

The pounding on the apartment door faded.  The shouts and jeers echoed off the walls as the herd of feet thundered down the stairs.  Time to move, again.  Naomi wasn't ready, but she'd understand.  This time it was for him.  He'd suggest it to her when she got home.  And next time, well, he'd be more careful.  Be really sure before he talked about it.

Joints creaking from clutching his legs so tightly, Blair uncurled a little to look at the drawing in his lap.  Pretty good for a kid, he thought critically.  Nice proportions around the eyes.

A pencil drawing of Jennings in a tribal headdress and paint looked back at him.  An expression of keen interest colored the features.  The head was cocked a bit, as if listening to something.

He coulda' been one, Blair thought defensively.  Next time, next time he'd be sure.


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