Chemicals
Author: Clea Saal
Fandom: The Sentinel
Rating: 13+
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Chemicals

The next time Sandburg tells me that chemicals are bad for my health, that I should trust natural remedies instead, I'm going to gleefully wring his neck.

I respect him and I really have no problem with his attitude toward western medicine when it's not a life or death situation --though there are some instances in which I have no qualms about shoving whatever prescriptions are necessary down his throat-- but there are some instances in which I just wish he'd practice what he preaches. Right now he's coming down from his 'hell's week' high. Finals have been presented and graded and the same goes for the mountain of term papers that had been threatening to take over the loft and I know that --if past experience is anything to go by-- then within the next forty eight hours his body is going to crash, logging in a formal complaint against all the abuse it's been subjected to within the past few days in the only way it can.

Yes, I know it's not fair for me to blame hell's week entirely for my guide's condition, I know it's not just because of the demands of college life that he routinely goes through these episodes. I am all too aware of what a role my own job plays in wrecking havoc in his system but still...

I know this time around things were especially bad with an unusual number of perps choosing the worst possible time as far as my guide was concerned to crawl out of the woodwork. For me this past week was a little worse than average but for Blair it verged on impossible. He pulled through, though I'm still not entirely sure how he did it. He managed to fulfill all of his commitments at Rainier while still being there to back me up whenever I needed him to and while I'm incredibly proud of how he managed to get everything done somehow, that still doesn't make it right.

I know that 'hell's week' is part of his semi-normal routine, as are the demands of being my partner but the consequences are not so easy for either one of us to live with, which brings me back to my problem with my partner's hypocrisy when it comes to his attitude toward putting drugs and chemicals in his system.

I know I'm no saint, I know I'm just as bad as he is at times --in fact sometimes I'm even worse-- but at least I'm honest with myself about what I'm doing... I don't claim to be Mr. Natural. That's what bothers me... or at least part of it.

The thing is that I have no problem when I have to be there to pick up the pieces if Blair gets hurt during a case or in those instances that are truly beyond his control. Yes, I hate to see him get hurt and I'd like to be able to keep him safe but I know that's not always possible. The thing is that I'm his friend and I'll always be there for him when he needs me, even if sometimes that does seem to be a full time job --after all he is something of a trouble-magnet-- but when the damage is self-inflicted then yes, it most definitely bothers me. I hate seeing him in pain when he doesn't have to be and that's one of the main reasons why I really wish he would take better care of himself. He may jokingly call me his 'Blessed Protector' but the sad fact is that the kid definitely needs one, seeing how he seems to be totally unaware of his own limitations.

Take the current situation for example. With as many years as Sandburg has spent at Rainier you'd think that he'd have figured out how to cope a little better by now. You'd expect him to at least be able to balance the demands of 'hell's week' with some basic health standards, but you'd be mistaken. For a man who loves words as much as he does he certainly seems to have a great deal of trouble with some pretty darn obvious ones... 'restraint' is one that comes to mind.

He gives a hundred and ten percent of himself to everything he does and he's usually trying to do at least five different things at once. It's part of what makes him the wonderful, giving guy that he is but the problem is that when he insists on giving a hundred and ten percent of himself to five different projects the end result is that he ends up giving five hundred and fifty percent of himself and there's no way he can keep that up for long. You don't need a Ph.D. to realize that the numbers just don't add up.

And that brings me right back to the issue of my partner's loudly proclaimed attitude toward drugs and chemicals as being the ultimate evil when it comes to the well-being of the human body. He claims he believes it, he claims to be in tune with his body so would it really be too much to expect for Mr. Natural to get it through his thick skull that the natural cure for exhaustion is not coffee but rather sleep?

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Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I don't own the concepts, I make no money, I make no sense and I get no sleep. This is done for fun and I promise to put the characters back where I found them once I'm done playing with them.


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