Chasing Blue Sky

 

Danae

 

Disclaimer:  Not mine, yadda, yadda…

 

Notes: Sequel to Family Tradition.  Naomi faces her son and Blair learns some painful truths about his mother.  Inspired by a song of the same name by one of my favorite bands, Queensryche.  If you'd like to see the lyrics, let me know.  Thanks so much to my betareaders, Susn and Nickerbits.  One warning!  I'm not nice to Naomi here….

 

His smile died when he opened the door and saw her standing there.  He looked back at Jim and sighed.  "Hello, mom."  Blair stepped back and motioned for her to come in.

 

Jim got up from the couch and came over to greet her.  "Hello, Naomi.  What a surprise."  Blair could hear the ever-so-slight strain in his friend's voice.  Jim was trying to be polite for his sake.  Truth be told, however, Blair was not interested in being polite himself.

 

"Hello, Jim.  Blair, sweetie, we need to talk."

 

"I really don't know what I can say.  What's the point?  He's dead.  Why bother talking about it now?"

 

"Blair—"

 

"Chief, I'll leave you two alone for a while." Jim reached beyond him and plucked his jacket from the hook by the door.  "Naomi."  He tilted his head at her slightly.

 

"Jim, wait." Blair tried to stop him.  He did not need to leave, but Jim raised an eyebrow at him, his expression clearly sending the message that he thought Blair needed to handle this on his own.  Blair frowned but nodded to let him know he understood.  Jim waved at him and slipped out the door. 

 

Blair sighed again when he was alone with his mother.  Why did she have to come back now?  And what could she possibly want from him now?  He knew he was being unfair but he could not seem to stop the anger that moved into his chest and stomach, making him feel slightly sick. 

 

"Can I sit down?" she asked.

 

"Um, yeah, sure."  He gestured to the couch that his roommate had vacated.

 

"Sit with me?"

 

"Yeah," he snapped unintentionally then swore under his breath.  Looking up at her with a forced smile, he said it again softly.  "Yeah."

 

They sat down and for long moments an oppressive silence hung over them.  Finally, his mother broke it.

 

"I'm sorry, sweetie."

 

"For what?"

 

"Everything.  For telling you over the phone.  For not telling you before.  For making you handle it alone.  For hanging up on you.  All of it, baby.  I just couldn't face it."

 

"And you think I wanted to?!" he snapped.  "Naomi, do you realize what it was like?  Do you care?"  Now, he was whining.  He hated the very sound of it, but damn it, he deserved to whine a little.

 

"Of course I care!" she cried.  "Honey, I'm sorry.  I just could not see that man again!  Please understand," she pleaded.

 

"I do!  That's not the damn point, mom!  My point is that you got pissed off at me because I didn't handle it the way you wanted.  That was not fair.  I did what I could because you wouldn't do anything.  But like I said, he's dead; it's over."

 

"Is it?  I got your message.  I know he's dead but you said that you have a brother?  A brother, Blair?  That man is not your brother."

 

"Mark's my half-brother."

 

"I can't accept that."  There was finality in her tone.

 

Well, that was typical.  "That's your choice.  This really has nothing to do with you."

 

"Nothing to do with me?!  How dare you!  Don’t you think it is hard enough for me to see him in you?  Now you want to welcome his son into our family?!" She stood over him now, yelling at him.

"What?  Wait; go back.  What did you say?"  Blair's heart fell into his feet.  She saw Dupree in him? 

 

She clamped her hand over her mouth.  It was too late, though.  The words were out. Blair's chest hurt and he could barely breathe.  "I didn't mean that."

 

"Yes, you did," he whispered.

 

Naomi sighed and sat down next to her son.  "Blair, my father used to tell me when I was down that the sky would be bluer tomorrow.  'Just hold on, Naomi.  The sky will be bluer tomorrow.'  And he was usually right.  But when I was raped, I thought, 'this time, he's wrong.'  I thought the sky would never be blue again for me.  I was seventeen and pregnant by a rapist and murderer and the cops didn't seem to care.  When he went to prison for his other crimes, I thought the sky would be bluer then, but I found myself being shunned by people, being talked about behind my back.  Some people even said that I only claimed to have been raped.  It was very hard to be pregnant and unmarried back then."

 

"Guess I should be glad abortion was still illegal, huh?"  It was harsh but he was hurt and he wanted to hurt back.

 

"Don't you dare say that to me!  I would never end a life like that.  I support a woman's right to choose but I could have never aborted you, Blair, legal or not.  No, I just ran."  She got up again and walked to the window. 

 

She was silent for several moments then she continued.  "I left home again and tried to find places where I would be accepted.  I didn't know what I was going to do when you were born.  I just knew that I had to find a bluer sky, Blair.  Then you were born and I found my bluer sky.  You were my blue sky, sweetie.  You were such a beautiful baby and a loving child.  But there were times when I would look at you and remember how you came to be and have to run again."

 

Shouldn't he be dying?  How could anyone hurt this much and not die?  There was something warm and wet on his face.  "I guess—" he cleared his throat, trying to push words past the lump there.  "I guess that explains a few things.  All the times that you left me with this person or that person, you were running away from me.  You couldn't stand to look at me.  I guess I can understand that.  I saw the guy, after all."

 

"No! No, no, Blair.  Not running away from you.  I was running from my memories.  I needed to find a bluer sky.  I love you, Blair.  I just could not deal with what had happened to me."

 

"And I was a constant reminder."

 

"Not constant," she admitted.  "I do love you, Blair."

 

"I know, as much as you can, I suppose."

 

"What does that mean?  What are you saying?"

 

"Naomi, it means just what I said.  As long as I do what you want me to, you love me.  As long as I'm who you want me to be, you love me.  As long as I don't ask for too much, you love me.  As long as you can walk away, go find your bluer sky, you love me.  You know, I do know that you love me because you never let anyone else hurt me.  You took me away whenever anyone did anything to me that they shouldn't have."  He paused and took a deep breath.

 

"It was Mark who made me see that," he told her.  "I mean, he told me a little about his life and compared to him, I had it good.  Hell, compared to Jim, I probably had it good.  At least you weren't cold to me like his dad was to him.  You protected me and for that I am grateful, but, Naomi, there has always been a distance between us.  You were my friend, more so than my mother.  You only choose to be my mother when it suits you best or when I do something you don't want me to do so you can try to get me back in line.  I always wondered why and now I know."

 

"Baby, I—"

"It's okay.  Actually, I can honestly understand it.  You never talked to anyone about Dupree, did you?  You made me go to therapy and what happened to me was nothing compared to what Dupree did to you and you never saw anyone.  You should really consider doing that, mom."

 

"Are you talking to someone now?"

 

"Yes.  It's helping."  He had seen Dr. Larson a total of six times.  The man was good at what he did.  Blair was reluctantly working his way through his feelings about Dupree and Dupree's death at his hands.  "And Jim's been great through all of it."  Blair thought about the support his best friend was giving him and smiled a little. 

 

"Jim.  I see."

 

"What?"

 

"You always turn to Jim.  I'm your mother."

 

"My always absent mother.  Jim is here.  You're off chasing your blue skies and Jim is here.  Being here with him, working with him and being his friend is my blue sky, mom.  Can you understand that?"

 

"I hear that.  I didn't come here to hurt you, you know."

 

"I know."  Blair looked down at his hands.  Mark had the same hands.

 

"But it seems that I have."

 

"I'll work it through."  He would.  He would process it and accept it.  She had taught him to do that.

 

"With Jim."

 

"With Jim and Dr. Larson."

 

"Can you forgive me?"

 

"Yeah.  Just not right now."

 

"Perhaps by Christmas?  I thought we could spend Christmas in Aspen this year.  My friend, Cole, has a wonderful cabin and he's invited us for the holidays."  She brightened, but it was obviously forced.

 

"I can't.  I want to go see Mark and Jim and I usually have dinner here.  Simon is going to be here this year because he won't have Daryl, since he had him last year."

 

"Jim, Simon, and Mark."

 

"Yes, Mark.  I want this, Naomi.  I'm not going to change my mind.  This is important to me." 

 

"In other words, you have a life here and there's no place for me."

 

"Not true.  You're welcome to be here.  We have invited you and you never come.  The truth is, mom, you have a life and there's only a place in it for me at your convenience.  I've known that for a long, long time.  It used to hurt, maybe it still does sometimes, but I deal with it."

 

She opened her mouth but shut it again.  There was nothing she could say.  She knew it and Blair knew it.  She sighed.  "I have a flight to catch, sweetie.  I'm off to Sydney.  Isn't that where your friend Megan is from?"  She got up and walked toward the door.  He followed.

 

"Yeah.  What are you going to do in Sydney?"

 

"I'm meeting some friends.  We are going to be working with an Aboriginal rights group there."  The smile this time was genuine, the light in her eyes real.  She was looking to her bluer sky, leaving her dark clouds behind already.  It hurt to realize that he was one of her dark clouds but he also knew that she could not help the way she was.  It reminded him of something he himself had said to Dr. Larson about Mark.  He had said that Mark was not a bad person; he had just never learned how to be good.  In a sense, his mother was the same way.  It was not that she did not love him; she had just never learned how to love him.  He kissed her on the cheek at the door and she touched his face.  They did not say good-bye.  She left and he closed the door behind her.

 

He hoped that Naomi was gone.  He made his way up the stairs and risked a little listen.  No voices reached his ears so he searched for heartbeats.  There was only one.  He felt guilty that he was relieved.  He did not want to have to pretend to be nice to the woman.  When it came to someone hurting Blair, even his own mother, Jim was not very good at hiding his anger and he was very angry with her over the whole mess with Dupree.  As far as Jim was concerned, Naomi was to blame for everything that had happened. 

 

He unlocked the door and walked into the loft.  Blair smiled at him from the couch.  The smile was shaky, though, and the lashes around the blue eyes were wet with unshed tears.  He was pretty sure that the tracks made by their predecessors had been wiped away hurriedly the moment his key was heard entering the lock.  "You okay, Chief?"

 

"I will be."

 

"Want to talk about it?"

 

Blair laughed a little.  "That's my line."

 

Jim chuckled.  "Usually.  Let me repay the nagging tonight, okay?"

 

"Nagging?  I do not nag."

 

"Right."  Jim let his tone convey his disbelief of that claim.  "How'd it go with Naomi?"

 

Blair looked at him with the saddest look on his face.  "Not so good.  I—I used to believe that my mom was some free spirit, a person with few cares and a happy life.  I was so wrong, man.  She's not free; she's running.  She's been running all her life.  And God, Jim, the scars she hides from the world.  Her freedom is her prison.  I should have seen it years ago.  Her distrust, her fear, her attitude toward love and commitment, I took all that as just a part of her desire to be free.  It was her need to shut everyone out so she wouldn't be hurt.  I saw her through rose-colored glasses, Jim.  Maybe I didn't want to see.  I don't know.  I was angry with her.  Even when she left, I was angry.  But now, I feel sorry for her."

 

Jim's heart ached at the pain he heard in Blair's voice.  "So, she's gone?"

 

"Yeah.  She's gone.  Off chasing blue skies.  Hope she finds one."  Blair got up and started for his bedroom.

 

"Blue skies, huh?  Sure you don't want to talk?"

 

Blair smiled at him and shook his head.  "I'm okay, Jim.  I've already found my blue sky."

 

Jim watched him go.  When the French doors closed, Jim let his eyes drift closed as he listened to Blair get ready for bed.  "So have I, Chief," he whispered.  

 

The End…