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Summary: Post-TSbyBS angst - yes, I’m obsessed with that theme. An exploration of Blair’s psyche during a dark time in his life. Definitely not a happy tale.

Notes: This snippet could be regarded as a prequel for The Dawn to Dark Series; as well as for my slash story Conjunction. It could also be seen as having darker connotations, should the reader so wish. I leave the interpretation up to you.

Guilty As Charged
By Fluterbev

February 2006

Guilt was a covert emotion. It crept up on you furtively, insinuating itself inside your gut, and twisting your perception to its own ideological ends. Now its coup d’etat was complete.

At the start of this mess, Blair had protested his innocence to Jim, trying desperately to hold the crumbling walls of his world together as they fell apart. But all he’d managed to do was paper over the cracks because, when it came down to it, Jim’s accusations were totally on the ball. It was his fault. He was guilty as charged.

Sure, he’d never intended that Jim’s secret would be exposed. Naomi’s actions had been beyond his control – Blair knew that. But at the same time, if it wasn’t his responsibility to protect the confidentiality of his subject, then whose was it? Blair was the one who left Jim’s name in the document. He was the one who’d left it lying around unsecured. Good intentions were worthless as protection, unless they were backed by corresponding action.

And they hadn’t been. His research - his responsibility to ensure its confidentiality. And he’d failed. So he’d squared his shoulders and done the only thing he could possibly do – he’d admitted his guilt publicly. “My thesis, The Sentinel, is a fraud,” he’d said.

I’m a fraud, he’d meant. A fuck up as an anthropologist, who’d failed to protect the anonymity of his subject. Who’d screwed up the most important ethical consideration a social scientist had.

And a man who’d ruined the life of his friend.

So, having openly accepted culpability, he’d at last ceased to say one thing in private, and another in public. He could, finally, admit to himself – and to Jim – that it was his failure, his fault. No more excuses, no more passing the buck. No more blaming Naomi, or fate, or circumstance.

And now? Now, it was time to suck it up, and accept the consequences. And if meant that his whole world had crumbled into dust? Well, wasn’t that no less than he deserved?

Turning his back on the fractured debris of everything he’d destroyed, Blair strode decisively out through the door of the loft, and closed it behind him.

In Blair’s wake, the slight breeze of his passing lifted a corner of the note he’d left behind him on the counter.

Then it settled, and all was still.

The End

Comments are welcome, but absolutely not necessary - all of my stories are offered freely and without obligation. If you do wish to comment below please sign your name/pseudonym if you are not logged-in to Dreamwidth or Open ID, or alternatively you can email me at fluterbev@gmail.com

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Date: 2007-08-02 07:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] klgrem.livejournal.com
Definitely sad. Well written. Thanks for sharing it.

Date: 2007-08-03 11:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fluterbev-fic.livejournal.com
Glad you liked it! :-)


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