Following The Light
By Purple Lacey

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Following the light of the sun, we left the Old World.  -- Christopher Columbus

 

The howling of the wind reminded the ten year old struggling to make his way through it of a wild animal caught in a trap.  The sound beat against his ear drums with an almost physical force that threatened to bring him to his knees.  He fought against the exhaustion that wanted to claim him, pushing the pain back.  Mentally, he leaned harder on the shallow bond he was using to keep from zoning out on the sounds, and doggedly continuing to put one foot in front of the other.

"Vin?"  The weary voice of another child could barely be heard over the raging winds even by ears as sensitive as Vin's.  "I don't think I can go any further."

Vin Tanner tugged at the hand he had clasped securely in his own, and tried to will a little of his waning strength through the grip.  "Yeah, you can, Ez.  We're almost there. Don't give up.  I can see a something up ahead.  We can rest there, okay?  Just a little bit farther."

The boy didn't have to look to see the other child's nod; he could feel his agreement through the shallow link the two had formed for this working partnership. The pair forged on with one goal in their joined minds: find a place to rest and get warm.

The singing along his nerves that had started a few minutes ago was disconcerting to Vin.  He had never felt anything quite like it before. It was as if he had goose bumps but from the inside out. He didn't know what it meant, but he instinctively knew it was important.  If only his mind and body were not so tired maybe he could figure it out, but his senses kept spiking and he had all he could handle just moving forward and pulling his younger friend after him.  Vin Tanner pushed on because that's all he knew how to do.  It never once occurred to him to quit.  It just wasn't the way he was wired.

That was not the only way he was different from most people.  Although his parents had never known it, Vin had been born with a special gift -- one he liked to think they would have been proud of if they had not died in a car crash when he was eight. Vin Tanner was a Sentinel, a person born with all five of his senses enhanced beyond the range that was considered normal for a human.  It was his gift...and his curse.

It was what had caused the villains chasing the weary boys to snatch him from the only home he had known for the last two years.  It was why they were being hunted. It was what kept the bad guys chasing after them across five states.  It was why they had to be afraid.  

He felt so different when he thought about his talents now than he did when he had first been told about them.  He had been surprised and proud when the smiling nurse had lifted the EEG tester from his head and told him he was a Sentinel.  Who wouldn't have been proud? 

Everyone knew about Sentinels.  They and their Guides were the heroes of the world; the protectors of the weak; rescuers of the injured; the finders of the lost; healers of the sick.  They worked to hunt down criminals and uphold the laws.  They were respected, revered, and honored.  He would have had to be a brain case to not be happy to be included in their ranks.  He never would have guessed that the pride could turn around so fast.

Although he could wish his newfound friend had not had to go through anything that they had experienced since meeting in that compound hidden in the middle of an Appalachian forest, it helped to a certain degree that Ezra was in the same boat, sort of.  For although Ezra Standish was not a Sentinel, he was a Guide; something that every Sentinel needed to survive with his sanity intact.   

The Guide helped the Sentinel control his senses. He acted as an anchor for the Sentinel, giving him something to use as a baseline to "reset" his senses when they overloaded and spun out of control.  The Guide was the problem solver and the Sentinel's back-up, protecting the Sentinel while they used their senses and pulling him or her from the dangerous zone outs that could occur when the Sentinel focused too much on one sense and got lost in it, completely shutting out the rest of the world.  A Sentinel was completely vulnerable when in a zone out, and could go so deeply into one that it could lead to the Sentinel’s death-- the act channeling so much energy from the body in order to concentrate on the affected sense that the Sentinel literally burned himself out to the point that even autonomic functions would begin to shut down. 

In exchange, the Sentinel bonded his mind with the Guide, opening the Guide's mind and bringing him online. A fully functioning guide was more sensitive to the life around him, and had abilities that superseded that of normal people. A low grade telepathy was a common ability of a Guide, and there were a variety of others that popped up randomly in the Guide population. 

But just as enhanced senses could cause a Sentinel to lose himself in a particular sense, so, too, could a mind that open get lost without something to tether it.  The Sentinel grounded the Guide, giving him emotional stability. He also provided someone to nurture, something a Guide needed to fill whole and complete.  It was a perfect symbiotic relationship.

Without Ezra, Vin was sure he would never have been able to make it this far.  Ezra had helped him control his developing senses some and had become Vin's friend, but while Ezra was a Guide he wasn't VIN'S Guide. Bonding to each other in the way that was necessary to bring Vin's senses fully on line was not possible.  This was only one of the facts of the Sentinel/Guide relationship that had escaped the man responsible for Vin being kidnapped. It was the one immutable fly in the ointment for the crime lord -- that they had known only as Mr. Smith -- who had planned to use them to further his own personal agenda. Mr. Smith had been furious once he had understood that not all Guides were compatible to all Sentinels.

Although little was actually known of the ways and wherefores, it had been proven over the centuries that only certain pairs could form a true Sentinel/Guide bond. Just like no one could completely explain the chemistry and psychology that caused two people to fall in love, no one had ever been able to pin point what it was that determined which Guide could bond with and trigger a particular Sentinel or vice versa. 

No one had ever found a way to change or circumvent this natural phenomenon.  Never one to admit defeat, Mr. Smith had been determined to try, and that was what sent the unbonded Sentinel and Guide running from the walls of the compound like the devil himself was chasing them. 

An image that was not far wrong.

It had taken them three weeks to get this far; three weeks of running and looking over their shoulders; three weeks of rumbling stomachs and little sleep; three weeks of being cold and tired; three weeks of fear. And it had been three weeks of friendship like nothing either boy had ever experienced before.  Ezra and Vin might not have been able to bond as Sentinel and Guide, but the shared experiences of their cross county run had bonded them into brothers.

The dark, welcoming shape of a building loomed and Vin could have cried with relief -- if he wasn't a ten year old boy and too big to cry, that is.

"We found it, Ez," Vin tried to encourage his friend as he pulled open the door and led the other child inside, letting the wind slam the door shut behind them.  "See I told you we could do it."

The other child dropped to his knees on the dirt floor of what turned out to be an empty barn, completely spent. "I'm so cold, Vin," nine year old Ezra Standish said through teeth that he barely managed to keep from chattering.  Vin folded his legs, sank down beside his younger friend, and reached over to wrap his arms around him, chafing the other boy's skin briskly to warm him.  The two sat there a moment sharing body heat then Vin reluctantly released Ezra and climbed to his aching feet again. 

"Come on, Ez.  Let's see what we can find in here to help us get warm again.  If nothing else, the hay I smell in the loft should help keep out the cold a little,"

A heavy sigh came from the other boy who took two tries to get to his feet, and he wished very hard that they had not had to abandon their blankets at their last stop.  "I know you're right, but I really just want to find a place to lie down and go to sleep," Ezra told him.

"Me too, but we got to.  Come on." 

Vin grabbed the younger boy's hand again and pulled him deeper into the structure, his Sentinel vision having no problem seeing in the dark barn.  Within fifteen minutes two exhausted boys were lying buried together in a pile of hay covered by a dirty old tarp.  Ezra had been asleep the moment his head had touched the hands he had folded under his cheek for a pillow.  Vin struggled against his own exhaustion as he did one last sensory sweep around them checking for danger.  With a grateful sigh the child slipped into sleep, the continuing hum along his nerve endings not able to keep the tiredness at bay any longer.
 

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Not till we are lost, in other words not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves. - Henry David Thoreau
 

Chris Larabee, Sentinel Elite and Guild Master for the Sentinel and Guide Guild, was drunk. 

He knew it. 

He welcomed it. 

He had worked damn hard to get that way. 

He had ignored countless lectures and disapproving looks from his friend and pseudo-Guide, Buck Wilmington, that evening to achieve his current state of inebriation.  Buck had pleaded and scolded to no avail this time.  Wilmington had eventually thrown up his hands in disgust and left him to his drinking. That suited Larabee just fine.

Chris had wanted to pass this evening totally wasted, and no one could talk him out of it.  He wanted be anesthetized; completely numb.  He didn't want to feel the pain that had been his constant companion for the last three years. 

He wanted oblivion. 

If ever he had a right to wish for oblivion, it was tonight.  This was the third anniversary of the day that his world had been torn apart.  His life had ended that cold, rainy night three years ago even though his body was still walking around.

Larabee staggered into his workshop and promptly tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his face with a heavy ummph.  He pushed himself up as far as his knees but didn't try to stand.  He would only fall down again and this way the floor was closer.  

Larabee sat looking around the well equipped leatherworking shop that had started out as a shared work space with his Guide/wife and let the tears begin to flow. 

"Sarah," he moaned, "I can't do this anymore without you.  There's a hole in me since you've been gone; a big gaping hole that nothing can fill.   Buck has tried, but he's not you and he knows it. I shouldn't have listened to him and the others.  I should have joined you and Adam three years ago. 

I'm tired, Sarah. Tired of waking up alone every morning and going to bed alone every night.  I'm tired of reaching out for you and finding you're not there. I'm tired of the sensory spikes, and the headaches and the medications, and the pitying looks. 

I miss you, Sarah, and our son.  I miss you both so bad.  I don't want to go on living if you're both not here with me.  I know this is not what you would have wanted me to do, but it hurts too much to live without you.  I can't do it anymore, Sarah.  I won't do it anymore."

The tears ran unchecked down his face as he let loose the restraints on the pain that had been kept under such strict control for so long.  Deep, bodying shaking sobs ripped through him as he wept for the loss of his family, and prayed for his own death.

A determination to end his perpetual pain filled him, and in drunken certainty he knew what he had to do.  Unsteadily he climbed to his feet and stumbled over to the shelves that held supplies.  Pulling a large plastic bin off the shelf, Chris turned and staggered back to the center of the room.  Like a marionette with its strings cut, he collapsed to his knees again. 

Chris pulled the top off the bin and upended the thing, spilling thousands of tiny multicolored beads onto the floor around him.  He threw the now empty bin aside carelessly.  He stared with intense concentration at the jumble of colors on the floor in front of him and smiled drunkenly.

He whispered with a faint smile, "I'm coming, Sarah.  I'm coming to you," and deliberately let himself fall into the zone; driving himself deeper and deeper into it; welcoming it as an answer to his pain.   His breathing slowly, gradually became shallower.  His heart began to slow, but Chris Larabee was lost in a world of frenzied color as his hold on life began to slip.  

In an old barn a mile away, Ezra Standish awoke from a sound sleep with a jerk.  "NO! NO DON'T!" the child urgently whispered to a vision only he could see; a vision that frightened him to his bones.

Ezra quickly pushed aside the tarp covering him and his sleeping friend, and jumped to his feet.  Vin didn't even stir at Ezra's movement, a measure of just how exhausted he was.  Although Ezra had only managed to get a few hours of much needed sleep himself, the shock of his dream had adrenaline pouring through his system, bearing away his fatigue.

 Ezra hurried over to the ladder of the loft, instinct and the tiny bit of dim moonlight that managed to filter in through cracks in the wall guiding him through the inky darkness of the barn. He hurriedly climbed down from the loft where they had bedded down for the night and jumped down the last couple of feet impatiently.   He turned and flew to the barn door pushing it open far enough to slip out into the night that had grown quiet after the passing of the storm that had driven the two children inside.

Ezra had been peacefully dreaming of a mountain meadow filled with wild flowers -- one of his favorite dreams -- when his dream had suddenly turned into a nightmare.  The bright blue sky above him had abruptly turned dark and threatening.  The wind had begun to blow and the trees had begun to whip around under its force. Ezra had run to find shelter from the impending gale.  He had found what he was looking for in the house that had suddenly risen from the ground in front of him. Not finding this at all unusual in his dream, Ezra had jerked open the door of the house and calmly walked inside, glad to be out of the storm. 

But although the wind and now the rain raged outside, the little boy felt a bigger storm brewing inside the structure.  Frowning in confusion, Ezra began to explore.  He walked from one empty room to another finding that while each room appeared warm and inviting from the doorway, they turned icy and forbidding once he stepped across the threshold.  He didn't know what to make of it.  

He found a long hallway that ran down the center of the house and was drawn to the room at the end.  Pushing open the door standing slightly ajar, he stood watching as a box of beads was emptied on the floor by a blond man who felt strangely familiar although Ezra knew he had never seen him before. 

"I'm coming, Sarah.  I'm coming to you,"   the man whispered.

Ezra didn't know what to think until the man seemed to freeze.  The tiny hairs on the back of the boy’s neck and his arms began to stand straight up.  Ezra's feet seemed to move of their own volition and they carried him from the doorway toward the kneeling man. The child got close enough to look the man in the face.  Blank hazel eyes stared back at him unseeing, and Ezra's heart started to race in his chest while the man’s heart begin to cease its life-giving drumming. Horrorstruck, Ezra watched as the man drew his last breath and keeled over to lie, still and pale, on the bead-strewn floor. 

 Ezra had woken up from the dream at that point, instinctively knowing what he had just witnessed.   A Sentinel was in terrible pain and had made the awful decision to end his life.  Ezra knew he could not let that happen.

The boy hurried through the trees of the dark woods unconsciously following a mental thread that had somehow formed itself between Ezra and the grieving Sentinel in the dream. He never wavered in his course, his short legs pumping along as fast as he could go.  Time seemed to compress for the young Guide and a run that took ten minutes felt like only one.

Ezra broke through the woods into a clearing where a large two-story house sat.  He recognized it as the one from his dream.  Not slowing his pace, Ezra bounded for the front porch.  The door was standing open so Ezra ran inside, immediately heading for the room he had seen in his dream.  He raced down the hall and flew through the door.

The scene that confronted him was exactly as he had seen.  The Sentinel knelt amid the scattered beads, his face completely empty and eyes blank.  Ezra never hesitated.  He threw himself at the unresponsive blond man and caught the slack face between his hands.

"Please don't go.  Come back.  It will be alright now.  Please, come back," Ezra called, his voice naturally taking on what scientists had labeled the Guide tone, that harmonically unique pitch necessary to bring a Sentinel back from a deep zone.  He continued to plead with the man, "Follow my voice and let it lead you back.  Let it lead you home.  Just let me help you."

It took several long, frightening minutes but the life began to return to those blank eyes and the Sentinel gave a deep gasp, drawing air into starved lungs. Ezra could feel the heartbeat increase its rhythm through the fingers that were laid on the man's temples.  The young Guide felt sick with relief as the zone faded and the Sentinel slumped to the floor as exhaustion and alcohol overcame him.   Ezra tried to catch him but was too small and only narrowly escaped being crushed under the man’s falling body.  The best he could do was keep the Sentinel’s head from contacting the hard wooden floor. 

Ezra knelt by the prone Sentinel's side, rubbing fear-chilled hands down his face and neck. 

"You're alright, now," the boy said in trembling tones, more to convince himself than the unconscious man.   "Everything is going to be fine now."

Ezra looked down at the now sleeping Sentinel. With the crisis past, the adrenaline-hyped energy he had been drawing on quickly faded, leaving the child weak and exhausted once again.  Too tired to do more that stretch out beside the blond, Ezra snuggled up next to the Sentinel and closed his eyes.  As sleep claimed him, he felt a warm arm reach out for him and pull him closer. As the arm tightened, something warm and welcoming filled his mind.   Ezra tumbled into sleep with a smile of wonder on his face.

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Without change, something sleeps inside us, and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken. -- Frank Herbert
 

The paths of this particular blue-tinged jungle on the dream plane were familiar to the large hart that leisurely meandered down them. Buck Wilmington often found the irony of having a Red Deer buck as his spirit animal amusing.  Who said the cosmos didn't have a sense of humor?  

 The big animal that was Buck on this plane looked over periodically to keep an eye on the cougar that glided with feline grace beside the jungle trail.  Keeping one eye on the large beast had almost become second nature to the hart.  Keeping the big cat on the path had been one of the hardest things he had ever had to do.  He knew he never would have been able to do it if somewhere inside that sinewy body the beast had not wanted to continue moving forward, but there had been some awesome battles fought over it.   Like the one that evening.

The well-antlered hart couldn't help the snort of exasperation that escaped.  You would think that after all these years he would know better than to try to talk that stubborn fool Chris Larabee into changing his mind once he had made it up.  In fact, he did know better but still had to try.

Buck sighed, a sound full of sadness and disappointment.  It had been three years already.  He had thought that his oldest friend would have come to terms with the loss of his Guide/wife and their son, but that was not the case.   Sometimes it seemed that Larabee was getting worse instead of better.   Buck was running out of ideas on how to keep the man's will to live stoked. 

Buck could remember vividly the day of the terrible fiery explosion that had ripped Sarah and Adam Larabee away from this earth.  He could still hear Chris begging them to let him join his loved ones in death as Buck and a team of Sentinel doctors struggled to keep the Elite anchored in this world and from slipping into psychic shock at the sudden severing of his bond with his Guide.  That memory could still drive a bolt of ice through Buck’s heart.   Listening to the devastated pleadings of a man that had never begged for anything in his life had torn at Buck's tender heart so much that for a moment he had been tempted to grant the man his wish and let go of the tenuous surface bond that he had erected between them to anchor Chris.

It had been close but Buck had held firm.  The consequences of letting the man slip away had been too terrible to allow Buck to give in, because Chris Larabee had not been just a Sentinel who had lost his guide.  He had been, and still was, the Guild Master of the Sentinel and Guide Guild, and the only known Sentinel Elite alive on the planet.  The Guild could not afford to lose him.  So against all the normal Guild policies, against all the normal Sentinel and Guide instincts, the Circle of Alphas had voted to keep him alive.

Their actions had brought forth a cry of outrage from the Guild's rank and file.  It was almost unheard of to refuse to allow a Sentinel or Guide to follow their partner into death when they wished it.  Many Sentinel/Guide pairs had seen it as almost obscene, but the Alpha's had held firm and enforced their decision staunchly, and the furor had eventually died down to a few dissatisfied grumbles. 

As an unbonded Guide, Buck had not been present when the issue had been debated by the Alpha Sentinels and their Guides, but he had later listened to their reasoning and had reluctantly come to understand and agree with the decision. It had come down to one simple, hard fact: Chris' death would have left a void in the leadership of the Guild. 

And everyone knew how much nature abhorred a vacuum.

Buck felt a shudder run down his spine at the thought of the bloodletting that would have resulted from the instinct driven battles the Alphas would have engaged in to find the strongest Sentinel to be the new leader. They wouldn't have been able to help themselves.  Primitive instincts would have taken over and driven them all. Many would have perished or been so badly maimed that they would never be able to continue living a normal, productive life, leaving more leadership holes that needed to be filled thereby sparking another vicious round of challenges for those positions.  The history books were full of tales of half a sept being wiped out in such struggles.  The Alphas were determined to avoid such tragedy this time so the word had come down:  to protect the septs the Sentinel Elite could not be allowed to die.

Buck, as long time friend, former training partner, and one of the only three remaining registered Guide Elites had been given the thankless job of being Larabee's pseudo-Guide.  Their friendship and past association allowed Buck to get deeper into the mind of the Sentinel and allow for a deeper link than anyone else could have achieved with the Elite.  It was that light bond that kept the darkness pushed back enough for Chris so that he could function with his senses, although nowhere near his past levels. 

Buck did his best for his friend but he knew that wasn't anywhere close to being good enough for Chris.  Half of Larabee's soul had been torn away and the rest was still bleeding.   Despite Buck's best efforts, his friend and leader was slowing bleeding out.

The cougar started veering away from the trail and Buck sighed and lowered his mighty antlers to prod him back in the right direction.  The cougar growled a warning and danced away.  The hart tried to follow but the cougar refused to let him close.  The cougar opted to parallel the course the red deer was taking but still chose his own way.  Damn stubborn Sentinel, Buck thought with frustration.  The two friends continued through the jungle of the dream plane in uneasy companionship for quite awhile. 

Buck's thoughts turned from his friend to himself.  He found it hard sometimes to understand exactly what Larabee was going through. He had yet to find his Sentinel, but he had not given up hope that he would one day.  Although he had experienced bonding before in his work as a Training Guide for the Guild, it had always been just surface bonds.  He had no experience with the deep, intimate bonds that a true Sentinel/Guide pair were said to form.  Maybe that was why he couldn't seem to connect enough with Chris to keep him centered, but how could he know for sure?

He wanted to learn what that bond felt like.  He actually craved it at times; craved the unknown Sentinel that was destined to be the one to knit his soul with Buck's.  He had searched and searched for years; going to Sentinel/Guide Assemblages religiously, even traveling to out of state Assemblages and a couple out of the country just to enlarge the field of his search.  

He had even gone so far as to screw up his courage and approach his sept's Sage for help.  Not that the visit has elicited any real help. The Sage had merely looked at him kindly and told him that all things must come in their own time.  But no matter what he tried, never had he felt that electric connection that told him he had found his soul mate. 

It was ironic that although he was unable to find his perfect match, he had considerable skill at matching other Sentinel/Guides.  He had lost count of the number of pairs that had begun their life together with an introduction from him -- Chris and Sarah a case in point. His ability had become something of a joke in the Guild.  Even though Buck laughed good naturedly at the teasing, he really didn't think it was funny.  He longed to find his Sentinel with every breath of his body.  

And the pain of remaining solitary hurt a little more with everyday that went by.

At first, surface bonding with a Sentinel had helped keep the cravings under control, but as the years passed Buck found it increasingly difficult to make due with the sham when what he really wanted was the real thing. The present bond that he shared with Chris was the deepest he had ever managed and helped fill a tiny part of the Sentinel shaped hole in his life, but Chris continually pushed him away, denying him the intimacy he needed as well.   Buck looked at the distance separating himself and his charge and tried not to wish for that mental closeness the he knew he couldn't have.  Instead he made due with what little feelings of closeness and intimacy he could glean from his romantic liaisons.    

Buck knew he was getting dangerously close to becoming a Guild cliché.  Although there was a long technical name for the syndrome, the common -- if crude -- term was Guide Slut - one of those unbonded Guides that had gone so long without finding the stabilizing presence of a Sentinel that they desperately climbed from one bed into another in the hope of finding what they needed in the arms of a stranger.  They were pitied in public...and laughed at behind closed doors. 

It was one of Nature’s ironies that the less powerful a Guide the less susceptible he was to the syndrome.  The stronger the Guide the more frantic they could become as time passed without a proper bond.   Buck was a Guide Elite, the strongest Guide measurable.  He was a prime candidate for the condition.   

He had sworn that he would never let himself get that bad.  It frightened him sometimes to acknowledge just how close he had come in recent years to breaking that promise.   He also didn’t want to acknowledge he had, at times, flirted with the idea of what so many other unbonded Guides over the age of thirty often fell back on when the hole in themselves remained unfilled: self termination. 

Buck was so submerged in his own melancholy thoughts that he never noticed when the cougar began putting more and more space between them.  Buck continued to walk forward, but Chris, in the form of his spirit animal, began to veer off at an angle to the trail.  

Before he could become aware of the loss of his traveling partner, the Hart sniffed and found a curious scent floating on the wind.  He stopped and raised his strong head and drew in a large breath, taking the smell into himself deeply.   There was something in it that pulled the red deer forward.  Buck inhaled deeply again, holding the breath inside himself; feeling it seep into his bloodstream and begin coursing through his whole body leaving a warm, golden feeling flowing through him.

Buck found himself powerless to turn away as he followed the nose of his spirit animal deeper into the jungle.  His head felt light, almost as if he were intoxicated.   What WAS that smell?   

And what was it doing to him? 

For it was doing something to him.  He hadn't noticed it at first but he felt parts of himself that had long been dormant now stirring and stretching as if awaking from a long sleep.  His mind seemed to pulse and expand with every step forward. 

Buck kept going until he came to the top of a rise.  He stood looking down at the jungle floor below and realized he had found the source of the delicious scent drawing him on.  There, curled up on a bed of soft grass, was a tiny tawny-coated Mustang colt.  It's once shiny coat was dimmed with dust and matted with sweat.  Somehow just by looking at the small creature Buck could tell it was exhausted.  And cold, he decided with worry as he clearly saw the shiver that racked the small frame.  Buck started down the rise quickly, knowing this little one needed help...needed him.

Buck stopped three feet from the sleeping form and carefully picked his way closer, not wanting to startle the little one or frighten it into perhaps trying to run away.  Somehow Buck just knew that it would break his heart completely in two if the colt ever ran from him.

Slowly and cautiously, the big hart lowered his body to lie beside the little mustang, scooting over until their bodies' touched.  Instantly the colt snuggled against the hart's side, absorbing the warmth coming off the large animal in waves and sinking deeper into a much needed sleep.  Buck stared in fascination at the little face of the horse then delicately licked a small ear.  The little ear flicked at his touch, but the colt never woke.  The big hart sighed in contentment.

While Buck's spirit was sheltering the colt on the dream plane, Buck's body had decided to take a moonlight stroll.  He pushed the covers off his legs and got out of bed.  He walked to his bedroom door, opened it, and walked through, turning towards the stairs.  Buck calmly climbed down the stairs and unlocked the deadbolt on the front door.  He swung the door open and walked through leaving the door wide open behind him.  He left the house and started walking into the woods, his pace unhurried but sure. His footsteps were silent in the night, and his presence went unnoticed by the small shadow that hurried passed him in the dark woods, intent on its own mission.   

Within minutes Buck was climbing over the wooden fence that separated Chris' Larabee's property from his neighbor's.  Buck kept going.  The big man walked confidently across the ranch yard to the barn and then slipped inside.  Without hesitating, he walked to the loft ladder and climbed up.  He instinctively turned toward the corner where a little boy lay sleeping unawares. 

As Buck started forward, the dream plane where he was warming a tiny mustang colt began to merge with the real world where he was approaching a blond-haired lad buried in the hay and covered by a filthy blue tarp that had seen better days.  The closer Buck got to the corner where the child lay, the more aware he became of his surroundings.  As he stood over the sleeping boy, looking down at him in astonishment, Buck felt an tingling begin to build along his nerve endings and he finally realized what was happening.

"My...my Sentinel," he whispered to himself, hardly daring to believe it might be possible.  Buck slowly dropped to his knees, and tears flooded his eyes as he reached out a shaking hand toward the precious boy but pausing before making contact, halfway afraid to touch him in case this really was a dream and the boy disappeared. 

Without warning, the child's eyes suddenly popped open and Buck felt himself falling into those beautiful blue pools.  Vin didn't move but lay staring up at the dark man without fear.  Slowly a tiny smile began to grow on the serious face.  Vin lifted his hand and placed his palm against the one that a frozen Buck still held over the boy.

The moment skin met skin Buck felt an electric current flow from Vin into him, electrifying his whole body.  His head fell back and he gasped as his mind seemed to take wing and soar.  He looked back down at the watching Vin and felt something click into place in the back of his head.

Watching the child watching him, Buck felt a warm tide roll over him and he basked in the glorious feeling.  He suddenly knew that this feeling was not being generated from inside himself but was being projected by the child in front of him over the bond that he could now feel stretching between them, pulsing with a life of its own.  This was a gift from his new soul mate.  

Buck's lips drew back in a shaky smile.  His voice was hoarse with emotion as he whispered, "I'd almost given up hope that you would find me.  I can't believe you're really here, that you...that you really want me."

Vin pushed himself up from the floor and rose in front of the man kneeling beside him, never lifting his palm from the other's.  Vin stood facing his new Guide proudly and stating with utter conviction, "My Guide.  Mine and nobody else’s."

A sobbing laugh burst from the emotional Buck at this typically possessive Sentinel response.  "Yours until death," Buck nodded in agreement.

"No!" the child disagreed firmly. "Longer than that!  Mine for always!"

Buck couldn't help it.  He laughed with sheer joy and swept his little warrior into his arms. Buck hugged him close, reveling in the feel of the child in his arms and the warm closeness of their bond.  "As you say, My Sentinel," Buck acknowledged formally with an almost giddy delight.

Vin wrapped his arms around his new bond mate and squeezed as hard as he could in approval of Buck's ready agreement. Then he pushed back and the serious look returned to the little gamin face.  Looking at Buck with solemn intensity and acting completely on instinct, Vin placed his hands in Buck's hair and began running his fingers through it gently.  Recognizing his Sentinel's need to imprint his Guide on his senses in order to complete their bond, Buck remained still as the boy proceeded to survey his body.  

Buck obediently stripped off his shirt when Vin tugged on it, letting the boy examine every scar and imperfection; letting him sniff and touch and taste to his heart's content; more than happy to give his little Sentinel whatever he needed from him.  He did feel a little strange at first in shucking off his sweatpants in front of the child when Vin demanded it.  He had no problem with shedding his clothes around a woman or even in the locker room with a bunch of guys watching, but being that way in front of a child? Well, some social mores were just too deeply ingrained even for the freewheeling Buck.

He was more than a little relieved when Vin didn't ask him to strip off his shorts too.  He would have done it if his little Sentinel had needed him to do so after all this was a Sentinel bonding with his Guide, and there should be no secrets between them, but it would have been damned uncomfortable for Buck all the same.

Then Vin placed his ear over Buck's heart and Buck knew he was establishing his final baseline. From now on, Vin would be able to key his hearing to Buck's heartbeat and Vin would always be able to find him just by listening for it. 

Vin took his time and Buck didn't rush him, wanting to give the child this little extra bit of security, but eventually Vin backed up a step and nodded once gravely.  Buck climbed back into his clothes then reached out and cupped the serious little face in his hands, using the hold to pull the child close once again to drop a loving kiss on to Vin's forehead.   The serious mien dropped from the newly bonded Sentinel and an excited ten year old took his place.

"I'm Vin," the child told him with a grin.  "Vin Tanner.  I just thought you might like to know,"

Buck laughed and released the little face so he could hold out his right hand to the child as he introduced himself.  "I'm Buck Wilmington.  I'm pleased as punch to meet you Vin Tanner!  I've waited a lot of years for you to turn up."

Vin laughed and reached out to vigorously shake the waiting hand.  "Well I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Buck ruffled the matted blond hair affectionately and replied, "You bet you're not.  I didn't find you just to lose you now."

Vin threw himself into Buck's arms, sure of his welcome, and stated, "Ain't gonna happen.  You're mine now and I keep what's mine."

Buck felt a glow of pride and contentment fill him at Vin's determination to claim him so completely.   "I think I like the sound of that."

"Me, too!" Vin assured him with a happy smile.

"Well, Sentinel mine," Buck drawled as he rose to his feet with Vin still wrapped in his arms.  "What do you say we go find us some grub and you can tell me how you came to be in this place?"

Vin nodded, looking around as he finally noticed that Ezra was no longer sleeping beside him anymore.  Using Buck to ground him, Vin cast out his suddenly sharpened senses and found a trace of Ezra's scent going down the ladder and out the barn door. Curious, but not especially worried since he could sense no threats nearby, Vin figured either Ezra would turn up on his own, or Vin would go looking for him later.  Right now HIS GUIDE was taking him home.  Vin sighed in happiness.

&&&&< 4 > &&&&

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.  -- Carl Jung --

 

Chris Larabee woke to a throbbing headache and a stiff back.  He swallowed the moan that wanted to escape knowing from previous experience that he did NOT want to hear any noise right now, even that which he made himself. He dialed is senses down and prayed his control would not be completely shot by the alcohol remaining in his system. 

He kept his eyes closed as he silently took stock of his situation.  Mouth like a rancid cotton ball; stomach churning like a washing machine; eyes...he dared to sneak a peek out of one and slammed it shut again almost immediately... yep, eyes oversensitive to light.  Definitely had one hell of a hangover alright. 

He couldn't figure out at first why the whole left side of his body felt kind of numb. It took him a minute to figure out that he was lying on his left side on the hard wood floor.  Hmm, when had that happened? 

Figuring why stop there, Larabee continue to assess his body for damages.  Hmm, don't feel any cuts or bruises on my face, and my knuckles don't feel sore so I must not have gotten in a bar fight this time.  That had to be a plus.  Toes still wiggle. Bond's a little weak but in place. Still feel all my clothes on....Wait a freaking minute!  Bond? What bond?

Chris Larabee jerked into a sitting position and had to grit his teeth and wait until the room stopped spinning and his stomach didn't feel like it was going to disgrace him right in the middle of the work shop floor.  When he was back in control he cautiously opened his eyes, blinking rapidly and turning the dial for his eyesight down until they adjusted to the bright morning light shining in through the windows. He frantically searched his mind for memories of the night before.

He remembered arguing with Buck and the man finally throwing up his hands in disgust and walking away.  Chris remembered downing the last of a bottle of Jack Daniels and stumbling into the workroom.  He remembered...talking to Sarah and trying to...

Oh, God! How did I get that far gone? He wondered with self disgust.

He lived everyday with the burning pain of loosing his family -- and had done so for the last three years -- for one reason and one reason only: because he had a duty to his sept and his Guild, and they needed him to do so; because he knew what would happen to his people if he wasn't there anymore.  As much as he might want to, he couldn't give in to the pain and just give up.  He had to continue breathing so the Guild did not decimate itself following an ancient, instinctual imperative that was no longer needed but still hardwired into every Sentinel's brain.  He was the Sentinel Elite and he had people to protect.

He had resigned himself to living out the rest of his natural life with the tearing pain in his heart and mind.  So why could he now feel the soothing splendor of a bond pulsing with golden light in the back of his mind?  Why was the gaping hole in his soul left by his lost Guide no longer cold and empty, but filled with a warm, loving presence that filled him with a joy that he had not felt in so long that he almost hadn't recognized it for what it was?

How had this happened?  And who had managed to work such a miracle?

Using skills that were rusty from disuse, Chris followed the bond in his head looking for the one anchored at the other end.   He was completely shocked to follow it to the small boy sleeping on the floor beside where he had been just two minutes earlier.

"What the hell!" he whispered angrily, instinctively pitching his voice low to avoid waking the sleeping child...his sleeping GUIDE!  How could this be?

Chris raised a weary hand to his head and rubbed at the headache pounding at his temples as he forced himself to remember every detail of the night before.

Okay, so he had gotten drunk and lost it.  He had gone into the work shop determined to put himself into a zone so deep he would shut down and die.  Okay, got that.  So...why was he still alive? 

Chris sighed heavily.  The only answer that fit was that the kid had brought him out of the zone.  That made some kind of sense at least.  A guide, especially a powerful one, might have sensed his zone out and rushed to stop it, but that didn't explain the bond. The damper drugs he had begun taking to help control his senses after his bond with Sarah had been shattered should have made it impossible for him to bond. 

Aww hell, he should have remembered that alcohol negated their affects.  He’d certainly slammed back enough of that last night. 

He also knew full well that the bond could only be formed when the Sentinel triggered the Guide who would then accept or reject the attempt at bonding, so...logically -- or for whatever passed as logic in his post-inebriated state -- Chris must have made the first move himself. 

The air around him should have turned blue with the curses that streamed across his grim lips in a barely audible whisper, but the Sentinel still automatically controlled his voice so as not to wake the Guide.

He had neither wanted nor asked for another Guide.  He never wanted to go through the pain of losing one again. It was too damn hard!  He had been completely relieved when he had met with each of the registered Guide Elites at the request of the Circle of Alphas and discovered that none were compatible for a permanent bond. He had never wanted anyone but his sweet yet fiery Sarah as his Guide.  Now he suddenly found himself the brand new bondmate of this little boy –- a stranger whose name he didn’t even know -- and emotionally he was bouncing around between anger at the situation he found himself in, his habitual grief for the loss of his family, and the joy of finding a new Guide to fill the yearning void in his soul.

Ezra felt his Sentinel's churning emotions over their bond and began to moan and struggle in his sleep. Without thought, Chris reached out and placed a soothing hand on the child's forehead, sending gentle reassurance and comforting thoughts across the bond, unconsciously following the genetic imperative hardwired into his Sentinel brain to take care of the Guide. Ezra settled down immediately and a tiny smile pulled at his lips, causing the Sentinel Elite's face to soften and an answering smile to form almost against his will.

Chris sat silently watching the child Guide, absently stroking the child’s hair, trying to get his mind wrapped around this new situation he found himself in. 

Okay, bottom line, he told himself firmly, whether you wanted one or not, you are now responsible for another Guide. His life is in your hands now so suck it up, stop feeling sorry for yourself, get your candy ass off the floor, and start doing your damn job!

Pep talk complete, Larabee rose to his feet, swaying slightly, and waited for the room to stop spinning before bending carefully and lifting his new Guide off the floor.  Carrying the child as if he were made of spun glass, the hung-over Sentinel slowly walked into the den and laid the child down gently on the sofa, pulling the afghan off the sofa back and tucking it around the boy carefully.  He reached for one of the throw pillows and lifted the boy's head to place the pillow under it then lowered the child's head again gently.

Chris used senses which, in spite of the dampeners he was taking, had sharpened to levels he had not experienced in the last three years to monitor the child's breathing and muscle tension to determine if he was comfortable.  Satisfied that his Guide was well, Chris sank to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa, and stared at the sleeping boy.

Feeling pulled to the child, Chris reached out and carded his fingers through the baby fine silk of the boy's chestnut hair.  Although fascinated by the feel of the stuff, he kept his touch light so as not to disturb the child's sleep.  Soon, Chris' exploration turned to his other senses.  He breathed in the scents enfolding the child, separating out the smells of shampoo and soap, hay, sweat, and wood smoke, and focusing on the faint cinnamon and sunshine scent that was purely Ezra's.  The Sentinel took in the smell, letting it wash over him and settle into his pores, reveling in the spicy scent until he was on the verge of zoning on it.  He pulled himself back just in time.

Switching senses, Chris leaned forward and gently touched the tip of his tongue to the boy's exposed neck, tasting the essence of the child and savoring it slowly like a wine connoisseur did a fine vintage.  Changing senses once again, Larabee sharpened his vision until he was looking at the boy's face on a microscopic level.   He began to catalogue the child's appearance.  He would have to wait to do a more a detailed sight and touch imprinting later because he didn't want to risk waking the child and possibly frightening him by stripping him out of his clothes.  It would wait for awhile, and besides the boy really seemed to need the rest more than Chris needed to feed his senses on his Guide.

Although he had started the mapping of his new Guide without thinking, Chris still knew what he was doing.   Imprinting the Guide on Sentinel senses was an important part of the bonding process.  No Sentinel/Guide bond could be complete without it.  Chris knew that if he had wanted to break the bond he had currently found himself in then the time to do it was before imprinting had taken place.   He knew before he began that he still had an out if he chose to take it.

But he couldn't do that.  Not without gravely injuring the psyche of the innocent little Guide whose only crime was in wanting to help a surly Sentinel that was too wound up in his own loss and grief to want help. Larabee could not repay the boy’s unselfish act of kindness with such malevolence.  It would be dishonorable.  It would be wrong.  The Guide...His Guide... deserved better.

In the final stage of the limited imprinting, Chris focused his hearing on the boy's heartbeat, memorizing the tone and pitch and rhythm of the organ; listening to its unique song as the boy sang it just for him.

Chris had just finished, when the weird electric hum that had been playing along his nerve endings since he had woken up but been pushed aside by his new bondmate, demanded his attention, and he knew he would be having company soon.

He stood and walked from the den, pausing long enough to glance over his shoulder to give his sleeping guide a quick check. Satisfied that all was well, he walked down the hall toward the foyer of the home, cranking up his hearing as he went. He was rewarded by the sound of heavy steps -- the kind a large man makes -- coming towards the house from the woods. Chris sharpened his focus, filtering out all extraneous sounds, and detected two heartbeats. One he immediately recognized as Buck’s, but the other was unfamiliar. The unknown Sentinel in his territory had to be arriving with Buck.

Curiosity mixed with the inborn caution felt by a Sentinel when faced with an unknown Sentinel in his territory.  Chris took up a position at an angle to the door that would allow him to see his visitor before the visitor saw him, and still keep himself between the unknown Sentinel and his sleeping child Guide.  

Chris waited, feeling his muscles tensing as the other Sentinel drew closer.  Chris could feel the power of the other Sentinel increasing with every step he took closer to the Elite.  Chris could feel the primitive side of his nature start to ascend from the depths of his psyche.  Chris had faced powerful Sentinels before but never had he felt anything quite like this.  Who ever this was, he was strong!  This person could be a threat, a big one. 

Unconsciously, he assumed an attack posture and a soft growl began to roll from Chris as the front door opened and Buck stepped inside holding the hand of a little blond haired boy.  Chris looked past the man and child at first, looking for the Sentinel that dared to invade his territory without permission, too focused on protecting his Guide and his territory to remember that he had heard only two heartbeats and not three. 

Buck froze at the sight and sound of a Sentinel in Defense Mode.  He stared at his oldest friend and cursed himself for being so stupid.  He had been so completely caught up in the euphoria of finding and bonding with his Guide that he had ignored a pretty basic rule when dealing with Sentinels.  He had sprung a new Sentinel on the Elite in the Elite’s territory without going through the proper introduction techniques.  Now it looked like Chris was about to tear his new Sentinel into tiny pieces before Buck could rectify the oversight. 

“Chris!” Buck began urgently as he tried to step in front of Vin.  “It’s my fault.  I got so caught up that I didn’t even think about arranging for an Auspicate,” the distraught guide said, speaking of the introduction ritual that was usually performed when a new Sentinel had to venture into another’s territory.  “I’m sorry, Chris, really.  I didn’t mean to go and get you all riled up.”

Vin had been feeling that hum along his nerves, too, as he walked closer to the house, but had not known the significance of what he was feeling until he had stepped inside and seen Larabee standing there.  He evaded his Guide’s hand and stepped in between Buck and this strange Sentinel.  His protective instincts were just as strong as the older Sentinel’s and it didn’t matter if Buck was three times his size, he WOULD protect his guide from the threat facing them.

Chris’ mouth dropped open at the sight of the boy facing off with him squarely, and he felt the instinctive part of him that had leapt to the forefront to protect his Guide and his territory from the invader fade as shock burned the anger from his system.

“Buck?”  Chris started to ask his old friend what was going on, but Vin didn’t take too kindly to the older Sentinel acting so friendly with HIS Guide.

The boy started to growl low in his throat and took a threatening step forward.  His hands were clenched into fists ready to let fly at the other Sentinel.

“MINE!” the child grated out in a low, but emphatic voice, leaving no doubt that he was deadly serious. “You can’t have, Buck. He belongs to me!  Don’t you touch him”   Vin took another step toward the other man, instinctively trying to intimidate him. 

Unfortunately for the boy, Chris had been facing off with other Sentinels for almost three times the boy’s lifetime.  He didn’t intimidate easily.  Besides it was pretty hard for someone standing over six feet tall to be threatened by a half pint that only stood a few inches over four feet and looked like he weighed a grand total of seventy pounds...soaking wet.

Amusement began to flood the Sentinel Elite as he watched the little Sentinel who was apparently prepared to take on all comers to protect his Guide.   Although he wanted to laugh, Chris carefully masked all traces of humor; after all he was still Sentinel Elite as well as Guild Master and the boy needed to learn who was boss around here.

Chris raised a sardonic eyebrow at the child’s challenge and took a step forward, wordlessly issuing one of his own.  Vin was quick to answer it. In a lightening fast move, Vin launched himself at his opponent’s knees.  Chris, who had not been expecting the boy to actually attack, had to take a moment to catch his balance.  Vin danced back out of Chris’ reach, feinting right then left as he looked for an opening to get in another shot in at the man. 

Buck took a step toward the boy and opened his mouth to protest, but stopped as a firm shake of the head from Chris warned him not to interfere in Sentinel business.   Buck stepped back with a worried sigh.  He knew what was coming next was inevitable, but he didn’t have to like it.  

As Sentinel Elite and Guild Master, Chris was the ranking Sentinel and therefore had final say in all things regarding the Sentinel septs, so in one way the whole world fell in his working territory, but practically, he only claimed his Guild offices and the hundred acres of land surrounding the ranch house as his personal territory.  No one was allowed to encroach there without his permission. 

Most trespassers on a Sentinel’s territory were dealt with quickly and harshly, occasionally even lethally. It was well known to the public the consequences of intruding on a Sentinel’s territory without his or her express permission.  Everyone knew about the instinctive behavior that could be triggered by such an event.  That’s why every Sentinel’s home, as well as his Guide’s, was always clearly marked with a special Guild symbol to warn the general public to be careful. 

Decades ago the laws had been changed to make it legal for a Sentinel to injure or in certain situations to even kill while defending his personal space.   The Guild had fought long and hard for the changes until eventually the world governments had conceded.  As with so many other legalized concessions to Sentinel and Guide pairings, what it basically came down to was the world had adjusted to the needs of the Sentinel because the Sentinel, with his talents, was greatly needed by the world.  There was only a very tiny fraction of the population that objected to this.  Most people saw it as a small price to pay for having a Sentinel around.  The general populace knew and understood the rules, so it was rarely an issue any more.

If Vin and Buck were to continue to live and work in this area, Chris’ territory, then they would need Chris to accept Vin into his sept and agree to let him remain.  If not, then Buck and Vin would have to find another place, and another sept to shelter them.   Vin throwing out a challenge to the Elite’s authority, especially on his own home ground, was something that an ranking Sentinel could not allow within his territory.  The upstart would have to be shown who was in charge.  It was one of those ancient Sentinel things that a modern Sentinel and Guide had to acknowledge and live by even though the rest of modern civilization might not understand or approve.

Buck watched with resignation as the inevitable confrontation unfurled.   He knew that Chris wouldn’t deliberately hurt a child, especially one that was more than likely going to be living in his sept and therefore under his protection, but Buck could easily see his little warrior getting himself hurt in his fearless attempt to defend his claim on what he considered his, namely one Buck Wilmington.

Vin feinted to the right again, and Chris pretended to fall for the ruse, but when Vin came in trying to collapse Chris’ knee by kicking at the back of it, Chris was prepared and pivoted away before Vin could make contact and continued the motion around in one smooth flowing move, managing to catch Vin across the middle with one arm which he used to sweep the boy up.  Before Vin could react, Chris had flipped him over and grabbed him by the ankles, leaving Vin hanging upside down in front of him an arm’s length from his body. 

Vin wiggled and tried to kick, but Chris’ firm hold on his legs kept him from being able to break free.  Undeterred, Vin kept writhing and swiping at Chris’s torso with his fists, but was unable to land a single blow since Chris’ longer reach kept the boy out of striking distance. It took awhile for the boy to acknowledge he was not accomplishing anything but wearing himself out. He finally went still, hanging upside down and looking up at Larabee with burning lasers for eyes.

Chris could see the wheels turning in the boy’s head as he tried to come up with a strategy to not only get away from the larger Sentinel but win the battle.  Chris couldn’t help but be impressed with the little warrior.

“There is no dishonor in conceding to a stronger adversary,” Chris told him gently, “when nothing is at risk accept your pride.”

He could feel the little body stiffen. “Buck is MINE,” Vin spat at him fiercely.

Chris nodded in understanding.  “No one challenged you for him,” he said calmly.  “You did well. You fought bravely, and to the best of your ability,” Chris told him sincerely.   “That’s something to be respected.  Are you going to shred the respect you’ve earned by letting your pride stand in the way of your intelligence?   A smart warrior knows when to withdraw as well as when to attack.”   

Vin appeared to think on this for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you concede?” Chris asked formally.

“I concede,” Vin stated in a voice that was firm and full of proud dignity in spite of his current position.

Larabee nodded once to acknowledge the capitulation, gently lowered the child to the floor, and released his ankles.   Vin slowly picked himself off the floor and stood facing the Elite with straight shoulders and a unwavering stare.   Once again, Chris couldn’t help but be impressed with the child. 

Larabee finally allowed himself to smile and he held out a hand to the boy.  “I’m Chris Larabee. Welcome to the Silver Moon Sept, and to my home.  I can already see that you’ll be a real asset to our sept.  We always need people of courage and ability, something you’ve demonstrated both of today.”

Vin suddenly grinned and reached out to shake the man’s hand saying, “Thanks.  My name’s Vin.   Vin Tanner.  That’s Buck. He’s my Guide.” 

Chris silently had to laugh at the way the child was still subtly reinforcing his claim on the black haired man watching the two Sentinels with open relief.

“I know,” Chris said humorously. “He lives here.”

A frown began building on the little face as Vin thought on that.  Chris could almost read what was going through his mind.

“Buck is your Guide.  I make no claims on him, and concede any hold on him that I may ever have had,” Chris told him formally knowing that, in spite of his earlier denial, the newly bonded Sentinel needed this reassurance that the older and stronger Sentinel had no wish to challenge his right to his Guide.

Vin stared at him and Chris recognized the small tilt of the head that indicated Sentinel ears were listening closely for any signs that he was being less than truthful.  Once Vin decided that Chris was being honest, he relaxed and the happy grin of before returned.

Buck approached and dropped a caring hand on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing affectionately and sharing a smile with the child. He looked at Chris with gratitude for accepting the boy.  Chris reached over and slapped him on the shoulder good-naturedly.

“So you finally found your Sentinel, Buck.  Congratulations,” Chris told him with sincere happiness for his old friend’s good fortune.  “Didn’t realize you had a thing for cradle robbing though,” he joked with an infectious grin.

“Thanks, Chris, I...” suddenly Buck broke off his acceptance of the good wishes as something important dawned on him. 

He had been so focused on his own good fortune that he had completely ignored the implications for his friend and Guild Master.  His new bonding would leave Chris without any Guide help at all. Oh, God!  What had he done? And yet how could he have done anything else?

“Chris, I...You...I didn’t think...” Buck stammered as he started to pale.  

Chris did something that Buck found completely unexpected: he laughed.  
 

&&&&< 5 > &&&&

Buck stared in amazement at his friend.  Something was different about the Chris Larabee that was standing in front of him this morning; something that had not been present last night when Buck had finally given up and left Larabee to his drinking and gone on to bed.  There was a lightness to his face...no...there was a lifting of darkness from it.  That described it better.  His shoulders were straighter, as if a burden had been lightened. The lines carved into his face by pain and suffering didn’t appear as deep today.  

But the biggest change was in his eyes.  Although still bloodshot from the hangover the man had to be feeling after last night, they were almost glowing.  What was going on here? Buck wondered in confusion, and what had happened to his friend to cause such drastic changes just overnight?

Chris looked at the worried Guide and shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face as he said, “I guess you’re not the only one in this house to go in for cradle robbing.”

“What?  Chris what are you talking about?” Buck looked at him in confusion as if the Sentinel Elite had finally gone completely around the bend.

Chris just laughed and gestured the big man to follow him.  Mystified, Buck obeyed, one hand on Vin’s shoulder urging him to go along.   Chris walked the pair to the door of the den and put a finger over his lips to signal them to be quiet.  He stepped aside to let Buck look into the room.  It took a second but finally Buck zeroed in on the child sleeping on the sofa.

He looked at Chris and asked, “So who’s the kid?”

Before Chris could answer the question Vin piped up and casually said, “That’s Ezra, Ezra Standish.  Him and me came together.  I wondered where he had got off to this morning.”

“Ezra,” Chris said slowly, letting the name filter through his head.  He noticed a stirring in the bond that felt like the boy acknowledging the name.  “Ezra,” he repeated and this time the name was infused with indulgent satisfaction.

“Okay, so that answers the question of who he is and why he happened to be around this area, but how did he get in here?” Buck asked his head swiveling between the sleeping child and the Sentinel Elite.

Chris’ smile as he looked at the sleeping child held a combination of irony, embarrassment, and – yes, as crazy as it sounded to Buck -- pride.

“He came to help,” Chris said softly, not looking at his old friend.

Buck was still trying to figure out what was going on here. “Help who with what?” he asked.

Chris shrugged and still refused to meet his eyes.  “Help me, I guess.”

“Help you how?” Buck asked, although a certain suspicion was beginning to build in the back of his mind.

Chris ignored the question and reached over to pull up the cover that had slipped down to Ezra’s waist, turning his back to the watching Guide.

“Help you how?” Buck repeated determinedly.

Chris sighed in defeat, realizing his stalling tactics were not working with this man that knew him so well.

“Ezra is my new Guide,” Chris said turning to face Buck at last.

‘What!” Buck yelled in shock before he thought.

The noise jerked Ezra awake abruptly and the child sat straight up on the sofa looking around fearfully, still half asleep.

Chris hurriedly sank down to sit on the edge of the sofa beside him, reaching out and pulling the frightened boy into his arms.

“It’s alright, Ezra,” Chris assured him softly.  “You’re safe, and I won’t let anything hurt you.  That was just Buck being Buck.  He didn’t mean to scare you.”

Ezra buried his face into the warm chest of his new protector and relaxed, feeling safer that he had ever felt before in his life.

“Hey,” Chris said smiling down at the child.  “We found a friend of yours.”

Ezra pulled his face back enough to look at the Sentinel questioningly.  Chris shifted him on his lap until Ezra was able to see the large man standing in the middle of the floor staring at him, and the blond boy by his side.

“Vin!” Ezra cried out, glad to see his friend.

“Hey, Ez, guess what,” Vin said excitedly, grabbing Buck’s hand and pulling him over toward the other boy.  “This is Buck. He’s my GUIDE!  I found him, Ez.  I just woke up and there he was, just like magic.  Isn’t that cool?”

Ezra’s little face lit up with his smile.  “Way cool, Vin!”

“And Chris says you’re his Guide.  Way to go, Ezra!  So, I guess we both found our true home.  The old man was right!”

“What old man was that?” Buck asked with interest

Chris interrupted before either child could answer.  “Why don’t you tell us about it after breakfast?  You both look like you could stand a hot meal or two.  Does that sound good?” 

He was just as curious as Buck to hear the story of how the pair of children had come to be there, but the Sentinel part of him was pushing to the fore insisting that his Guide’s welfare be seen to first.

Vin looked enthusiastic at the suggestion. Ezra had to agree that the idea of food sounded pretty good to him, too.  Chris hid a smile when his sensitive ears picked up the children’s unspoken answer to his question in the form of twin growls coming from two empty little bellies.  Setting Ezra on his feet, the Sentinel rose and held out a hand toward Ezra.  The child slipped his own into Chris’ without hesitation.

“Why don’t I show you to where to wash up while Buck goes and starts the coffee, and then I’ll come help with the cooking?  You boys can join us in the kitchen when you’re ready,” Chris said, taking charge. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Buck agreed readily.  “You go on with Chris, Bubba,” the Guide told Vin with a smile.  “I’ll be right in the kitchen.  Don’t be long.”

Vin giggled at the nickname. “Sure, Buck,” the boy said agreeably and looked up at Chris expectantly.

Chris held out his other hand and Vin took it readily.  The Sentinel Elite lead the children toward the bathroom down the hall.  He pulled towels and washcloths out of the cabinet and placed them on the counter as the pair of children watched him quietly.   Chris turned to the bathtub/shower unit and turned the hot water faucet, letting the water heat then adjusting it to a safe temperature for the children. 

“You guys want a bath or a shower this morning?” he asked with a questioning raise of one eyebrow.

“Bath,” Ezra said at the same time as Vin answered, “Shower.”

The two children looked at each other in surprise.  Chris laughed at their expressions.  “Why don’t you take a shower in here, Vin, and Ezra can use the tub in my bathroom?”

Ezra beamed at his new bondmate, thrilled that the man was letting him into his personal space.  “Thanks, Chris.  I really wanted a bath,” he said shyly.  “I haven’t been able to have one in a really long time.  We’ve both had to just wash up with a rag whenever we could.”  The boy looked up at his new protector as he hesitantly asked, as if a revealing shameful secret with the question but too excited at the possibility to resist the temptation, “Could I...could I have bubbles? I really like bubbles.”

Chris read in between the lines of the child’s words, and felt an odd tightening around his heart that the child had been so badly looked after in the recent past that he could be that excited by the prospect of taking a simple bath.  The Sentinel wanted to enfold the boy and make up for any deprivation that child had endured.  Chris reached out and cupped his hand around the back of boy’s head, his thumb stroking the temple softly, and the smile he gave the child was warm and gentle.  He could feel the surge of positive emotions the boy was unconsciously projecting across the bond at his touch.

“I don’t think I have any regular bubble bath, but I bet a little shampoo would do the trick,” he answered softly.

Ezra’s smile got even brighter and he gazed on the man with adoration shining out his eyes like a beacon.  Larabee’s heart melted into a pool of warm mush in his chest.

Chris turned to the watching Vin and told him, “Put your clothes outside the door and I’ll throw them in the washer.  I’ll bring you one of my shirts to wear until they’re clean.”

A wistful look crossed the other boy’s face, and he looked at the floor refusing to meet the other Sentinel’s stare, torn between embarrassment and need.  “Could I...could I have one of Buck’s?” 

The child looked up shyly as he watched for Chris’ reaction.  The boy looked relieved when Larabee smiled in understanding, realizing the child would feel more happy and secure with the scent of his Guide surrounding him.

“I think that can be arranged, too,” he assured the boy who immediately broke out a happy grin.

Within a few minutes, Larabee had each boy squared away with his chosen form of dirt removal, borrowed clothing set out for each, and their soiled clothing churning in the washing machine.  He left the boys on their own, but kept his hearing cranked up a bit to monitor them.

“It’s been a pretty unusual morning all around, hasn’t it, old Dawg,” Buck softly called to him as he entered the kitchen.

The Guide was busy stirring a pan of scrambled eggs with one hand and flipping strips of bacon in an iron skillet with the other.  He had a dish towel tucked into the waistband of his sweatpants in lieu of an apron.

Chris reached into a cabinet and took down two mugs, and grabbed for the coffeepot.  He filled both mugs and spooned sugar into one, stirring it well before setting it on the counter by the stove for his friend.  Buck threw him a grateful smile, and quick thanks then stopped stirring long enough to take a big sip of the morning nectar.

“I think unusual is a good word for it,” Chris agreed with Buck’s earlier statement with a smile, feeling better than he had in a very long time. “You might also say it was unexpected. Unanticipated. Unforeseen.”

Buck turned to him with a suddenly serious mien.  “Unwanted?”  He questioned softly.

Chris sighed, and turned away to stare out the window over the kitchen sink that looked out over the back yard and the woods at the back of the property, his good mood taking a dark turn at Buck’s question.

“I always thought so,” Chris admitted quietly.  “I never wanted anybody for a Guide but Sarah.  She was it for me from the moment I met her.  When she ...when she and Adam were killed I thought I’d go through the rest of my life without one.”

Buck watched his friend closely, knowing his friend’s mind and his body language so well.  “I sense a ‘but’  coming,” he said. 

“But...we both know that no bond would have ever formed between Ezra and me if I hadn’t been the one to initiate it,” Chris replied looking lost.

Buck shut the flame off under the eggs, and lifted the crisp bacon strips from their frying pan to drain on the paper towel covered plate he had set down on the counter earlier.  He pulled the dishtowel apron from his front and wiped his hands, throwing the used towel on the counter and turning his whole attention on his oldest friend.  “And you think that was wrong?”

Chris ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “I don’t know.  Part of me does.  Part of me thinks I’ve betrayed Sarah and everything we were.”

“And the other part?”

Chris sighed and turned troubled eyes to the other man. “And part of me wants to go shout from the mountain tops with joy that I’ve found a Guide.”

Buck took a step closer to the Sentinel and dropped his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I loved Sarah like my own sister,” Buck stated while staring into Chris’ eyes candidly. 

Buck waited while Larabee acknowledged this with an, “I know you did.”   

“I loved her wit, her charm, her friendliness and her feistiness.  She was sweet as a honeycomb, and had a temper hotter than a forest fire in July when she was riled. She was a great wife, a loving mother, and a wonderful guide.”

Chris nodded sadly at the recitation of Sarah’s character traits.  He had to blink back the tears that wanted to gather in his eyes at the memories Buck’s words were stirring up, and shore up his control around the bond to keep from broadcasting his sorrow to Ezra.

“Yep, Sarah was all that and more,” Buck continued, “but you know the one thing that always struck me the most about her was how full of life she was.  You can’t tell me that somebody that full of life herself would have wanted the one she loved the best to curl up and die when she was gone; to shut himself off from life and people.  She would have been sad...then she would have gotten mad and kicked your sorry butt.”

This last startled a snort of reluctantly amused agreement from the listening Sentinel. 

“Don’t beat yourself up because a part of you still wants to live, Chris.  I think that’s probably a piece of Sarah that she left behind in you.  I say accept the gift she’s giving you and start living again.  You owe that to Sarah and yourself, as well as Ezra. 

And one final word of advice before I shut up.  Don’t make that little boy suffer by pushing him away or trying to keep him at arms length, because he won’t see that it’s life you’re trying to run away from.  He’ll only think you’re running from him.  That’s not something any Guide, no matter what age, can take without a big dose of pain.”

Chris looked at his unusually sober friend and nodded.  “I’m trying, Buck. Believe me, I’m trying.  I don’t want to hurt him.  I’ve only known him for a few hours, but I can already tell just through the bond how special he is.  The last thing I want is to cause him pain.  I...I...think that would hurt me worse than it would him.”

Buck smiled with relief, praying that it would work out. The big Guide suddenly had an epiphany. Whatever higher power had chosen Ezra to be Chris’ Guide had surely known what they were doing. A child candidate for a Guide was the one thing guaranteed to keep Chris from rejecting him out of hand.  There was no way in the world that the protective instincts of a Sentinel, much less that of the Sentinel Elite, would have allowed him to hurt a child that way. It was almost a foregone conclusion that Chris would accept him.  How ingenious was that?  Buck wondered with an inward smile. 

And in sending Ezra to Chris he was regaining two of the three things he had lost with the death of Sarah and Adam: a Guide and a son.  Chris once again had a family, and family had always been a stabilizing influence on Larabee. 

“I’ve got another question for you, since we’re being serious here,” Buck said looking at his oldest friend levelly.  “Do you want me and Vin to move out and leave you two alone?  I know that having another Sentinel in your territory is going to cause you some stress.  This is your house and you should be comfortable in it.   Vin and I can find somewhere close by to live so he and Ezra can still see each other often.”

At the change in subject, Chris broke into an unexpected grin.  “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” He said with a chuckle that surprised Buck.

The other man looked confused.  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I mean that we’re going to need each other when it comes to those two.  Buck, exactly how strong a Sentinel do you think Vin is?  I know things have been a been moving along at top speed this morning and you’ve probably had a lot of other things on your mind, but stop and think about it for one minute.  How do you rank on the Guide scale? What do you think Vin has to rank on the Sentinel scale if he bonded with you?”  Chris said watching the Guide think it over. 

Buck’s blue eyes widened in surprise and wonder when he finally realized what Chris was talking about.  “You mean...?” he broke off hardly daring to believe.

“Yeah, he’s not just an Alpha, Buck.  He’s Elite, and so is Ezra.”

Buck looked slightly dazed at the news.

“Ezra is very strong but he’s also untrained, Buck.  He’s going to need someone to help him and who better to be his teacher than someone who already works as a trainer, and just happens to be the one person who knows me the best?  The flipside to that is, Vin is also untrained and who better to teach him than the only other person alive that knows what he can do and what he’ll be going through...not to mention, the man that he’ll most likely be replacing as head of the Guild someday.”

“Holy Shit!” Buck said and dropped on to one of the kitchen chairs heavily as the scope of the responsibility they had both just taken on began to sink in.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Chris agreed.  “That’s why I think you and Vin should just plan on staying here.”  Chris chuckled, “At least until he and Ezra are ready for college.  We both need all the help we can get.”

Buck blew out a deep breath in a relaxation exercise, and then another before nodding his agreement.  He looked Chris straight in the eye to ask one final time, “Are you sure you can deal with another Sentinel, especially another Elite in your territory?”

Chris nodded.  “It would be different if he was older, but because he’s so little it’s...it’s...well, I’m not sure how to describe it.”

“It’s like you’re the head wolf and he’s a cub in your pack?”  Buck asked with knowing eyes.

Chris laughed.  “Yeah, that’s probably it. Anyway, it’s not a problem since we settled who was boss and who was not.”

Buck straightened and Chris could almost see the protective hackles of the Guide rising.  “Look, Chris,” he began only to have Larabee interrupt him. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Buck, and the answer is, no, I won’t try to keep him submissive.  He’s an Elite, he wouldn’t let me anyway.  I’m just saying that he knows that I’m the senior and he’s the junior and that he’s been allowed in my territory because I say so, not because he has any rights to it.  He knows this and respects it. He knows it doesn’t mean he isn’t welcome or he can’t make this his home.  Trust me, Buck.  It’s one of those things that a Sentinel will get, even if no one else does.”

Still looking a little troubled but willing to take Chris at his word, Buck nodded and stood up to return to his making of breakfast for the group.

“I smell biscuits!”  a hungry little voice broke into the serious moment, and both men turned to watch as a now scrubbed and shampooed Vin walked eagerly into the kitchen wearing a black t-shirt of Buck’s that drooped off one shoulder and hung down to his knees and was emblazoned with ‘Guides do it with Sense-ability’ on the front.  His long blond hair hung in damp strings around his head but he ignored it as he focused on the heavenly smell of hot food.

Buck laughed and swung around to haul the child up into his hungry arms.  Always a tactile person, Buck couldn’t get enough of the feel of his new Sentinel.  The bond flared even stronger between them with the physical touch of Guide and Sentinel, and only reinforced the desire for contact.  Vin didn’t seem to mind in the least, but seemed to revel in the touch as well, running his hand up and down along Buck’s back and feeling the warmth and the smooth texture of his guide’s skin in return.

“Something tells me you are always hungry,” Buck told him affectionately.

Vin shrugged with an answering grin and replied, “I’m a growing boy.  I gotta eat to keep growing strong so I can take care of you.”

“Then I supposed we’d best hurry up and get this food on the table.  Wouldn’t want to stifle your growth any, Bubba,” Buck joked.  “You’re scrawny enough already.”  Buck winked to let Vin know he was just teasing and Vin giggled.

The timer on the oven went off and Buck reluctantly set the child on his feet.  “While I’m getting the biscuits out of the oven why don’t you go see if Ezra’s ready?” Buck suggested.

“No,” Chris corrected him, ‘I’ll do it.  I still have some mapping to do.  I didn’t get to finish the bond before since I didn’t want to take a chance on waking Ezra up and scaring him.  This will be the perfect time to complete the imprinting.”

“Okay, Chris,” Buck smiled at the other man, eager to help his friend in anyway that would strengthen the new bond between the Sentinel Elite and his Guide. “Take your time.  I’ll keep breakfast warm for the both of you.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Chris said with a grateful look.  As Chris left the room he heard Buck directing Vin on where to find the silverware so the child could set the table.  

 

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