Title: Choices

By: Terri D. Thomas

Dues: Yep. First one.

Disclaimer: None of the guys belong to me. However, I can always hope.

Warnings: None.

Spoilers: Slight spoilers for "Siege"

Comment: My thanks to Kelly for the quick beta. You're a doll! All remaining mistakes are mine. This is a really short piece which contains a few "firsts" for me. This is my first Sentinel piece, my first POV piece and my first fic posting to this list, although I've been playing in other sandboxes for a long time. Oh yeah, and it's the shortest fanfic I've ever written. Go figure.

Public and private feedback welcome.

Archive: Sentinel Angst list and any others who want it. Just ask first. Thanks!

Choices (Jim's thoughts during "Siege")

By Terri D. Thomas

Choices. . .life is full of them. . .way too many to count. Look at today. Had to decide on the caramel donut or the honeybun. Had to decide whether to have milk or coffee with it.

Hell, I had to decide whether to get up this morning and face my out-of-control senses or hide in bed and pray to whatever god was listening that they go away. Had to decide whether to follow through on my promise to Sandburg or to tell the kid that I had changed my mind. . .that I had decided to go it alone, without his help.

Now look at me. Been around Sandburg for what. . .three hours today. . .and now I'm making a choice about whether he lives or dies.

It was never supposed to be like this, Chief. I didn't ask you to help me so that you could find yourself in an early grave. . .put there at the hands of a psychopathic terrorist. I swear to God that when I get my hands on Kincaid I will rip him apart, limb from limb.

My stomach fell to my feet when I heard Kincaid announce that he was taking "Mr. Natural" with him. Two guesses as to whom he was referring. . .and the first one doesn't count.

Great going, Chief, you've made new friends already. I haven't known you long, but I can see that you certainly know how to make a good first impression on people. Look at the one you made on me last week. I had known you for a whole five minutes and you took it upon yourself to save my life. Too bad I can't return the favor.

Yes, I do have a choice. I could chase after you. . .save you from the death that most certainly awaits. However, if I do that, I know that I will allow many more innocents to be murdered. As they say, 'the good of the many'. . .and all that crap. My first priority is to save the hostages in the squad room, even if that choice means that you have to die.

The sound of Kincaid pulling his hostage down the corridor breaks into my thoughts. I hear Blair trying to talk his way out of the mess he has found himself in, but to no avail.

Then I realize that there's no more time. Simon and I have to move in. As we leave the protection of the Communications room and approach the Major Crimes entrance, I can't help but follow the sound of the dual footsteps echoing through the stairwell. Kincaid is making his escape up to the roof with Blair in tow.

I have to force myself to abandon Blair's plight and listen to the happenings in Major Crimes. The terrorists are gathering the hostages, preparing to kill them all.

Simon and I storm the room, taking the would-be assassins by surprise. The struggle is brief. Within seconds, the two men are out of commission.

I don't allow the cheers and gasps of relief from the rescued hostages to delay me. I now have the ability to act upon the choice that I could not make before. I have to help Sandburg.

I run for the stairwell. I can hear the rotary blades of the helicopter whipping through the air. For a second, that is all I hear. The sound is constant. The helicopter is still on the roof. There is still hope.

I take the stairs three at a time in an effort to make it to the roof before it's too late. I have to stop that helicopter from leaving. There is no guarantee how long Kincaid will keep Sandburg alive once he has safely made his escape. He'd probably just dump the kid into the ocean on his way to. . .what'd he call it? Camp Liberty?

It takes a moment for me to realize that I'm hearing another sound. A fast beating rhythm penetrates through the sound of my feet pounding on the steps, my heavy breathing and the rotary blades turning. I try to ignore it at first and then I realize what I am hearing. A heart beat. Mine? No. Not mine. Someone else. I file the information away, knowing that it can't help me save Sandburg.

I burst through the doorway leading to the roof and see the large helicopter taking off. My vision focuses on the occupants. Kincaid is there. . .and hidden behind him, pressed against the opposite side is Sandburg. I can see the fear in his blue eyes. The sound of the heart beat that I heard before returns. . .and I know, without a doubt, that it belongs to him. And then it hits me, somehow, someway, we are connected.

I don't understand it. . .I'm not sure I want to, but I do know that I have to act. . .I can't let Kincaid take him away. I pump my legs as fast and as hard as I can, racing to the chopper before it can clear the roof. It's an all or nothing deal. If I don't reach my intended target I'll end up taking a flying leap off the building's edge.

But I'm making my choice. I'm not going to lose the kid. . .not after having found the one person who seems to understand what I'm going through. . .and seems to care enough to want to help.

The edge of the roof is coming closer. Beyond it, empty space. The struts of the helicopter are just a few feet off the ground. I pray for them to stay within my reach. I close my eyes and jump. I will do this, Chief. . .or I will die trying. This is my choice.

-fin-