No Other One, Chapter 35
Title: No Other One, Chapter 35
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, and Chapter 34.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“It is sometimes better to abandon one’s self to destiny.” - Napoleon Bonaparte
She could feel the conflicting emotions in her son’s body. It was impossible not to. He was so tense, so upset, that it was practically wafting off of him.
Her own anger had begun to wane, because even it couldn’t hold a candle to the almost overpowering exhaustion threatening to take hold of her. All she wanted to do was sleep, but there was no way she could leave her son like this.
Yelina was furious, but… in the back of her mind, part of her had already begun resigning itself to what had happened between her and the redhead. At least for the lies he’d told her, she might eventually be able to forgive. In all truthfulness, the brunette stubbornly didn’t want to. But she supposed it was in her nature. She’d managed to forgive her mother, her husband, and Rick Stetler for the things they’d done. It was just… inevitable, she thought.
And at least she had the knowledge that she’d hurt her brother-in-law with her words. They were even in that regard; forgiveness was what naturally came next. The alternative - never speaking to him again - just seemed… so impossible now that she’d had a chance to yell at him.
However…
For what Horatio had done to her son?
Never.
That was something Yelina knew she’d never get passed. There was nothing he could do to make her forgive him for this. That was asking too much. Her anger had slowly started to taper off, but every time she thought the flame had been extinguished, the brunette would look down at her son. And to her mind, for making Ray Junior hurt, there wasn’t a circle of Hell painful enough that would be a suitable punishment.
The fire within her renewed itself at full force. Which really didn’t make the situation easy. She almost laughed at the thought. It felt like she was, at this very moment, a walking stereotype. And yet… not even the typical sayings about Spanish women and their tempers seemed to hold a torch to how she wanted to behave. Frankly, the pigeonhole of “heated Colombian female” was too small to contain each nuance of disgust and resentment and anger she felt.
And knowing she could eventually forgive Horatio for what he’d done to her was one thing. But actually setting all of that aside, going forward with their lives… that seemed like an impossible task. Because as a family, how could they ever hope to move on from this?
A new family member brought in this way was just too big to ignore. The things she’d said to Horatio, the angry words Ray Junior had said to her… that would always be vivid in their minds.
And how could she work with her brother-in-law, talk to him, celebrate birthdays and holidays with him, knowing that this had happened?
Yelina sighed quietly, running a hand over Ray’s curls. He’d been silent for a while now, but words weren’t exactly needed. Everything he was tempted to say she saw flit through his dark eyes; they were amazingly similar that way.
Yet it still surprised her to hear, only minutes later, the teenager speak up. “I…” His voice trailed off, but he swallowed hard and tried again. “When I saw you earlier - sitting at the kitchen table, I thought… that maybe… Dad was alive.”
He punched the bed hard, the edge of his knuckles rapping against her kneecap. “I know it’s stupid, but -”
“Your father has a habit of being alive when everyone says he isn’t?” she offered, bitterness rounding off the edge of each of her tones.
His own - “Yeah” - sounded just as tart. “I did not think that Uncle Horatio -”
“Me neither.”
“I just don’t understand this family’s fucked up need to expand the gene pool in the douchiest way possible.”
She rolled her eyes. “Raymond, you shouldn’t talk like that… but I agree.”
It was obvious though that her son had no intention of listening. Because he asked, “What’s next - you fuck some random loser and get pregnant with his crack baby?”
“Of course not,” Yelina said quietly, trying not to snap at him. “I already have my hands full with you. More than that actually. Buying a goldfish would be a disaster. Another child? I don’t even want to think about how horrible that would be.”
Ray sat up suddenly, angrily. Gesturing towards himself, he snapped, “Right. Just blame it on me.”
The brunette bit down on her tongue and ran a hand through her own hair this time. Frankly the temptation to rip out each and every curl was almost too much to ignore. But instead, she used the time to force herself to calm down. The teenager was being an idiot, she knew, but Yelina told herself over and over that he was also her son.
“Is that what I said?” she countered, the irritation unfortunately not gone from her voice.
“You didn’t have to, all right?” He scrambled to his feet. “It’s what everyone thinks, though, isn’t it? In this family anyway. You all believe that, if I weren’t so fucked up, you’d all be happy, don’t you?” He turned away from her and began to pace in front of his door. “If I were - I don’t know - less of a pain, or whatever you want to call it, Horatio and Dad wouldn’t feel the need to -”
His voice was abruptly cut off by the sound of her fist connecting with his headboard. The loud smack practically resonated in the small room. Her hand hurt from the sheer force of it. There was no thinking before it happened, no conscious decision on her part to do it, and Yelina had to look at the wood to make sure she hadn’t split it.
“Stop it,” she hissed in warning.
“No.” And when he started to say more, it was her turn to get off the bed clumsily.
“No. You need to listen to me.” Stalking towards him, Yelina couldn’t help but once again take note of the fact that her son was only a few inches shorter than she was. But what little advantage she did have on him, she planned to use as best as she could.
“But -”
“Be quiet,” she ordered. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “You want to believe this is all your fault?” She shrugged and threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “Then I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But you should at least know that I will…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for the right words. Taking one of his hands in hers, she said much more gently, “I will never agree with that conclusion. And for your sake, you should at least give me the opportunity to prove you wrong.”
It was almost depressing how Ray Junior visibly hesitated then. In all honesty, Yelina hadn’t… truly appreciated what a sullen teenager he had become. There’d been times in the past when she’d seen it - like after his father had actually died. But somehow she’d been able to write that off as… normal grieving. Now, though, she could see that it might be something more, that there might be something going on… what that was exactly, she had no idea.
“Fine,” he relented, interrupting her thoughts. That did not, however, make her a welcome presence, as he yanked his hand out of hers.
“You may want to believe that this has something to do with you - some day I hope you’ll tell me why. Because I can’t…” No, she thought. This would go best if she tried to keep sentimentality out of the conversation. “I’d like to know the reasoning behind that,” she told him earnestly. “But you should know that it’s not your fault. And neither your father or Horatio would blame you.”
His response was snotty: “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” she said, shaking her head furiously. “Horatio’s son was born before I was even pregnant with you. You think your uncle has a knack for clairvoyance?”
She waited for an answer, half-thinking that maybe she’d said that last part a little too sarcastically. God help them if they kept going at one another like this. But all Ray did was bite down on his lip and look away from her.
He would never admit that he might be wrong - Yelina was almost too aware of that. But he wasn’t hurling insults at her. And he wasn’t yelling or crying about anything else at the moment. Which was as close to victory on the matter as she could ever hope to be.
“Can’t say the same for Dad,” the teen inevitably said.
“Your father…” There were... so many horrible things the brunette could say about her husband. Honestly most of them would have done the job at the moment. But none of them would be appropriate or appreciated.
And as tempting as it was, she couldn’t completely forget the good times they’d shared; that was something she’d never been able to do. And bit by bit, hints of past conversations, of past times, eased their way into her mind. Running her tongue along her teeth to hide the smile threatening to overtake her, she finally said, “Your father was never an easy man to live with. He was passionate, particular, about a lot of things - the thickness of his deli meats and the kind of sheets he liked to sleep on.”
It was… unfair how she could remember each and every last detail of that time with him. There was no need to still know how Ray would refuse to eat anything that had touched a pickle or how showing just a tiny hint of her back would turn him on. Frankly, she’d settle for remembering how he liked his sandwich if it meant forgetting just how amazing the sex had been.
Ray Junior moved slightly then, reminding her that she still had an audience. Shoving the steamy memories out of her mind, she cleared her throat. No more thinking about screwing the hell out of her husband while their child was standing in front of her, she chastised silently.
“Anyway, at best, your father was a… picky man. But I know that he would have suffered through flannel sheets and the rest of it if it meant that I would do the one thing that truly mattered more than anything to him.”
“What was it? Keeping a few kegs and kilos of blow on hand? A side dish of meth whore?” Ray asked sarcastically.
The smile that had played on her lips only moments earlier faltered, fell, but she pushed forward, passed the tinge of hurt. Would there ever come a time when that didn’t get to her? When it didn’t get to him?
She cupped her son’s cheeks. “Your father was adamant about having one child.”
“That’s… so not true.”
“It is. He hated feeling as though he lived in Horatio’s shadow growing up. And he never wanted that for you. He only ever wanted you, Raymond, and I’m sure that if I had gotten pregnant again…”
She sighed dropping her hands to her sides. Refusing to finish the thought, she moved away from that hunch. Instead, Yelina focused on the matter at hand. “You have a sister, but that has nothing to do with you. It does have everything to do with him and his choices.”
Ray shook his head violently. “And the only reason any of that happened is because he left us! And there was a reason for that, right?” The teenager swallowed hard. “Happy people don’t abandon their families, right? They stick around! So Dad either left, because I was horrible - or - because he didn’t love us enough to stay.”
Tears formed in his dark eyes, surely mirroring her own. “So tell me, Mommy, which one is it?”
She stood there stunned. Words she had uttered to Horatio only hours previously were now seemingly being thrown back at her.
God, Yelina wished she had an answer that her son would accept. Yelina wished she had an answer that she herself could believe. But the truth, as it always did with matters concerning her husband, eluded her. Good memories remained, constantly taunting her when she least expected it. But the exact reasoning for how things had ended up sometimes felt out of reach, as though they’d been swallowed whole, disappearing forever.
Of course, depending on her mood, she had different theories. And right now the one she had was one she would never, ever, tell her son. So she lied. “Your father loved you, more than anything else. He loved you,” she repeated, placing emphasis on the words. “Adored you. Even when you were colicky and refused to sleep for more than a half an hour at a time. Even when you threw up all over him. Even when you flushed his watch and badge down the toilet. You were everything to him, Ray.”
She waited for it to sink in before continuing. “But he had a job to do. And he did it, and you know what happened. And there is nothing you could have done to change that.”
“Fine,” Ray snapped, tossing his hands in the air. “It was an accident - he didn’t mean to. Fine.”
It was hard to tell whether or not he actually believed her. The teenager didn’t sound all that convinced. But the sarcasm in his voice made it difficult to distinguish what he was feeling exactly - other than irritation and anger towards the whole situation. And even if Ray Junior did accept what she told him as fact, that didn’t automatically mean understanding that time in their lives was going to be any easier.
After all, Yelina had far more memories of that time than her son did; she’d had years to sit back and process her husband’s choices. And yet she wasn’t any closer to having the peace of mind she wanted for Ray.
But if he didn’t believe what she said, the boy didn’t press the matter from that direction again. Instead he changed topics, perhaps hoping to catch her in some sort of lie. “But obviously you did want more kids,” he pointed out accusingly.
She rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead and sighed. “I did, but - are you looking for things to be blamed for, Ray?”
God knows if he was, the massive headache he was threatening her with was surely enough. And if it wasn’t, then…
The mother had thought it before, but now she knew it to be true: her son made no sense sometimes.
“I just want to know how much you resent me so that when you betray me, I’ll be prepared.” There was no sarcasm now, none of that quick wit and sharp tongue that she was so familiar with. He was being honest, serious, and for the first time in a very long time, she wanted that smart-ass side of him.
But this wasn’t a joke. This was real. And it took her breath away - how this screwed up family had altered her son. Literally, Yelina couldn’t breathe, could not stop the tears or the guilt from welling up inside of her.
She’d always been aware that Ray Junior wouldn’t be the same. More than anything, when her husband had died, the mother had mourned the life they all could have had together. The life that her son deserved to have, and she’d known then, just as she did now, that the chasm between that and what life he was going to have would be wide.
Sometimes though the difference seemed gaping - wide enough to fit a Grand Canyon of what-might-have-beens.
The bubbly little boy had grown into someone cold and inherently distrustful; aged beyond his years and hardened by it, Ray was no ordinary teenager. His mistakes were only proof of her own, she knew, and there was no apology big enough to make up for that.
Instinctively Yelina pulled him close. The hug she gave him was too little to make a difference, but fierce and protective nonetheless. It was the least she could do.
“Listen to me,” she said hoarsely. “I would rather die than hurt you. I would… never blame you for the choices I’ve made.” She stroked his hair softly. “Did I want other kids? Yes. Yes, of course! But you are an only child, and that is -”
“My fault,” he interrupted, his voice muffled by his face pressing into her curls.
“No. My choice,” she finished. “When you were younger, of course, you could be a difficult child. I would have thought the hospital switched babies on me if you had been anything else. But nothing you’ve done or could have done would have made me not want children.”
She gripped his shoulders tightly and pulled him away from her so that she could look in his eyes. Or rather so that her son could see hers. “If I had gotten pregnant, nothing you or your father could do would have stopped me from having that baby.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward at the thought. It had been so long since Yelina had contemplated this time in her life, and it felt almost bittersweet to do it now.
“I’d had you,” she said gently. “And you were so…. Perfect. The way you looked at me - loved me when you were young. How could I not want to have that happen as many times as I could?”
His olive cheeks became just a slightly redder shade, and he looked away. The “I’m sorry” he uttered barely audible. The brunette wasn’t even sure he’d said it. But instinctively she knew that he had.
“This isn’t your fault,” she told him again, her voice louder and stronger. “I wanted to have more, but I don’t. And I don’t cry myself to sleep at night, because it’s just the two of us.”
“‘Just the two of us’?” he asked, repeating her words and twisting them around.
“I don’t mean merely the two of us, Ray.” Really, it was infuriating how he always read into what she said and manipulated it to the worst connotation possible. “I meant…” But she couldn’t quite finish the words, because, frankly, she was tired of his mistrust.
Throwing her hands up in the air, Yelina asked, “What do you want me to say? That I blame you? That I hate you? That I plan to act like everyone else in this family?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “That will never happen, Raymond. Ever. You’re my child. My son. And there is no place we will go, no area you can push me, where that won’t be true. You’re the one thing in this world that I’ve always wanted - the only person I’ve ever needed.”
She took a deep breath before saying, even more insistently, “I don’t want other kids. I don’t need them. There is no one else I would want for a son. There is no other one - I love you, Ray.”
And she pulled him into another hug then, for comfort as much as anything else. But also… somewhere deep down, Yelina knew that, after everything she’d said, she couldn’t bear to see the disbelief in her son’s eyes.
End (36/??)
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, and Chapter 34.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“It is sometimes better to abandon one’s self to destiny.” - Napoleon Bonaparte
She could feel the conflicting emotions in her son’s body. It was impossible not to. He was so tense, so upset, that it was practically wafting off of him.
Her own anger had begun to wane, because even it couldn’t hold a candle to the almost overpowering exhaustion threatening to take hold of her. All she wanted to do was sleep, but there was no way she could leave her son like this.
Yelina was furious, but… in the back of her mind, part of her had already begun resigning itself to what had happened between her and the redhead. At least for the lies he’d told her, she might eventually be able to forgive. In all truthfulness, the brunette stubbornly didn’t want to. But she supposed it was in her nature. She’d managed to forgive her mother, her husband, and Rick Stetler for the things they’d done. It was just… inevitable, she thought.
And at least she had the knowledge that she’d hurt her brother-in-law with her words. They were even in that regard; forgiveness was what naturally came next. The alternative - never speaking to him again - just seemed… so impossible now that she’d had a chance to yell at him.
However…
For what Horatio had done to her son?
Never.
That was something Yelina knew she’d never get passed. There was nothing he could do to make her forgive him for this. That was asking too much. Her anger had slowly started to taper off, but every time she thought the flame had been extinguished, the brunette would look down at her son. And to her mind, for making Ray Junior hurt, there wasn’t a circle of Hell painful enough that would be a suitable punishment.
The fire within her renewed itself at full force. Which really didn’t make the situation easy. She almost laughed at the thought. It felt like she was, at this very moment, a walking stereotype. And yet… not even the typical sayings about Spanish women and their tempers seemed to hold a torch to how she wanted to behave. Frankly, the pigeonhole of “heated Colombian female” was too small to contain each nuance of disgust and resentment and anger she felt.
And knowing she could eventually forgive Horatio for what he’d done to her was one thing. But actually setting all of that aside, going forward with their lives… that seemed like an impossible task. Because as a family, how could they ever hope to move on from this?
A new family member brought in this way was just too big to ignore. The things she’d said to Horatio, the angry words Ray Junior had said to her… that would always be vivid in their minds.
And how could she work with her brother-in-law, talk to him, celebrate birthdays and holidays with him, knowing that this had happened?
Yelina sighed quietly, running a hand over Ray’s curls. He’d been silent for a while now, but words weren’t exactly needed. Everything he was tempted to say she saw flit through his dark eyes; they were amazingly similar that way.
Yet it still surprised her to hear, only minutes later, the teenager speak up. “I…” His voice trailed off, but he swallowed hard and tried again. “When I saw you earlier - sitting at the kitchen table, I thought… that maybe… Dad was alive.”
He punched the bed hard, the edge of his knuckles rapping against her kneecap. “I know it’s stupid, but -”
“Your father has a habit of being alive when everyone says he isn’t?” she offered, bitterness rounding off the edge of each of her tones.
His own - “Yeah” - sounded just as tart. “I did not think that Uncle Horatio -”
“Me neither.”
“I just don’t understand this family’s fucked up need to expand the gene pool in the douchiest way possible.”
She rolled her eyes. “Raymond, you shouldn’t talk like that… but I agree.”
It was obvious though that her son had no intention of listening. Because he asked, “What’s next - you fuck some random loser and get pregnant with his crack baby?”
“Of course not,” Yelina said quietly, trying not to snap at him. “I already have my hands full with you. More than that actually. Buying a goldfish would be a disaster. Another child? I don’t even want to think about how horrible that would be.”
Ray sat up suddenly, angrily. Gesturing towards himself, he snapped, “Right. Just blame it on me.”
The brunette bit down on her tongue and ran a hand through her own hair this time. Frankly the temptation to rip out each and every curl was almost too much to ignore. But instead, she used the time to force herself to calm down. The teenager was being an idiot, she knew, but Yelina told herself over and over that he was also her son.
“Is that what I said?” she countered, the irritation unfortunately not gone from her voice.
“You didn’t have to, all right?” He scrambled to his feet. “It’s what everyone thinks, though, isn’t it? In this family anyway. You all believe that, if I weren’t so fucked up, you’d all be happy, don’t you?” He turned away from her and began to pace in front of his door. “If I were - I don’t know - less of a pain, or whatever you want to call it, Horatio and Dad wouldn’t feel the need to -”
His voice was abruptly cut off by the sound of her fist connecting with his headboard. The loud smack practically resonated in the small room. Her hand hurt from the sheer force of it. There was no thinking before it happened, no conscious decision on her part to do it, and Yelina had to look at the wood to make sure she hadn’t split it.
“Stop it,” she hissed in warning.
“No.” And when he started to say more, it was her turn to get off the bed clumsily.
“No. You need to listen to me.” Stalking towards him, Yelina couldn’t help but once again take note of the fact that her son was only a few inches shorter than she was. But what little advantage she did have on him, she planned to use as best as she could.
“But -”
“Be quiet,” she ordered. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “You want to believe this is all your fault?” She shrugged and threw her hands in the air in exasperation. “Then I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop you. But you should at least know that I will…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for the right words. Taking one of his hands in hers, she said much more gently, “I will never agree with that conclusion. And for your sake, you should at least give me the opportunity to prove you wrong.”
It was almost depressing how Ray Junior visibly hesitated then. In all honesty, Yelina hadn’t… truly appreciated what a sullen teenager he had become. There’d been times in the past when she’d seen it - like after his father had actually died. But somehow she’d been able to write that off as… normal grieving. Now, though, she could see that it might be something more, that there might be something going on… what that was exactly, she had no idea.
“Fine,” he relented, interrupting her thoughts. That did not, however, make her a welcome presence, as he yanked his hand out of hers.
“You may want to believe that this has something to do with you - some day I hope you’ll tell me why. Because I can’t…” No, she thought. This would go best if she tried to keep sentimentality out of the conversation. “I’d like to know the reasoning behind that,” she told him earnestly. “But you should know that it’s not your fault. And neither your father or Horatio would blame you.”
His response was snotty: “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not,” she said, shaking her head furiously. “Horatio’s son was born before I was even pregnant with you. You think your uncle has a knack for clairvoyance?”
She waited for an answer, half-thinking that maybe she’d said that last part a little too sarcastically. God help them if they kept going at one another like this. But all Ray did was bite down on his lip and look away from her.
He would never admit that he might be wrong - Yelina was almost too aware of that. But he wasn’t hurling insults at her. And he wasn’t yelling or crying about anything else at the moment. Which was as close to victory on the matter as she could ever hope to be.
“Can’t say the same for Dad,” the teen inevitably said.
“Your father…” There were... so many horrible things the brunette could say about her husband. Honestly most of them would have done the job at the moment. But none of them would be appropriate or appreciated.
And as tempting as it was, she couldn’t completely forget the good times they’d shared; that was something she’d never been able to do. And bit by bit, hints of past conversations, of past times, eased their way into her mind. Running her tongue along her teeth to hide the smile threatening to overtake her, she finally said, “Your father was never an easy man to live with. He was passionate, particular, about a lot of things - the thickness of his deli meats and the kind of sheets he liked to sleep on.”
It was… unfair how she could remember each and every last detail of that time with him. There was no need to still know how Ray would refuse to eat anything that had touched a pickle or how showing just a tiny hint of her back would turn him on. Frankly, she’d settle for remembering how he liked his sandwich if it meant forgetting just how amazing the sex had been.
Ray Junior moved slightly then, reminding her that she still had an audience. Shoving the steamy memories out of her mind, she cleared her throat. No more thinking about screwing the hell out of her husband while their child was standing in front of her, she chastised silently.
“Anyway, at best, your father was a… picky man. But I know that he would have suffered through flannel sheets and the rest of it if it meant that I would do the one thing that truly mattered more than anything to him.”
“What was it? Keeping a few kegs and kilos of blow on hand? A side dish of meth whore?” Ray asked sarcastically.
The smile that had played on her lips only moments earlier faltered, fell, but she pushed forward, passed the tinge of hurt. Would there ever come a time when that didn’t get to her? When it didn’t get to him?
She cupped her son’s cheeks. “Your father was adamant about having one child.”
“That’s… so not true.”
“It is. He hated feeling as though he lived in Horatio’s shadow growing up. And he never wanted that for you. He only ever wanted you, Raymond, and I’m sure that if I had gotten pregnant again…”
She sighed dropping her hands to her sides. Refusing to finish the thought, she moved away from that hunch. Instead, Yelina focused on the matter at hand. “You have a sister, but that has nothing to do with you. It does have everything to do with him and his choices.”
Ray shook his head violently. “And the only reason any of that happened is because he left us! And there was a reason for that, right?” The teenager swallowed hard. “Happy people don’t abandon their families, right? They stick around! So Dad either left, because I was horrible - or - because he didn’t love us enough to stay.”
Tears formed in his dark eyes, surely mirroring her own. “So tell me, Mommy, which one is it?”
She stood there stunned. Words she had uttered to Horatio only hours previously were now seemingly being thrown back at her.
God, Yelina wished she had an answer that her son would accept. Yelina wished she had an answer that she herself could believe. But the truth, as it always did with matters concerning her husband, eluded her. Good memories remained, constantly taunting her when she least expected it. But the exact reasoning for how things had ended up sometimes felt out of reach, as though they’d been swallowed whole, disappearing forever.
Of course, depending on her mood, she had different theories. And right now the one she had was one she would never, ever, tell her son. So she lied. “Your father loved you, more than anything else. He loved you,” she repeated, placing emphasis on the words. “Adored you. Even when you were colicky and refused to sleep for more than a half an hour at a time. Even when you threw up all over him. Even when you flushed his watch and badge down the toilet. You were everything to him, Ray.”
She waited for it to sink in before continuing. “But he had a job to do. And he did it, and you know what happened. And there is nothing you could have done to change that.”
“Fine,” Ray snapped, tossing his hands in the air. “It was an accident - he didn’t mean to. Fine.”
It was hard to tell whether or not he actually believed her. The teenager didn’t sound all that convinced. But the sarcasm in his voice made it difficult to distinguish what he was feeling exactly - other than irritation and anger towards the whole situation. And even if Ray Junior did accept what she told him as fact, that didn’t automatically mean understanding that time in their lives was going to be any easier.
After all, Yelina had far more memories of that time than her son did; she’d had years to sit back and process her husband’s choices. And yet she wasn’t any closer to having the peace of mind she wanted for Ray.
But if he didn’t believe what she said, the boy didn’t press the matter from that direction again. Instead he changed topics, perhaps hoping to catch her in some sort of lie. “But obviously you did want more kids,” he pointed out accusingly.
She rubbed the back of her hand against her forehead and sighed. “I did, but - are you looking for things to be blamed for, Ray?”
God knows if he was, the massive headache he was threatening her with was surely enough. And if it wasn’t, then…
The mother had thought it before, but now she knew it to be true: her son made no sense sometimes.
“I just want to know how much you resent me so that when you betray me, I’ll be prepared.” There was no sarcasm now, none of that quick wit and sharp tongue that she was so familiar with. He was being honest, serious, and for the first time in a very long time, she wanted that smart-ass side of him.
But this wasn’t a joke. This was real. And it took her breath away - how this screwed up family had altered her son. Literally, Yelina couldn’t breathe, could not stop the tears or the guilt from welling up inside of her.
She’d always been aware that Ray Junior wouldn’t be the same. More than anything, when her husband had died, the mother had mourned the life they all could have had together. The life that her son deserved to have, and she’d known then, just as she did now, that the chasm between that and what life he was going to have would be wide.
Sometimes though the difference seemed gaping - wide enough to fit a Grand Canyon of what-might-have-beens.
The bubbly little boy had grown into someone cold and inherently distrustful; aged beyond his years and hardened by it, Ray was no ordinary teenager. His mistakes were only proof of her own, she knew, and there was no apology big enough to make up for that.
Instinctively Yelina pulled him close. The hug she gave him was too little to make a difference, but fierce and protective nonetheless. It was the least she could do.
“Listen to me,” she said hoarsely. “I would rather die than hurt you. I would… never blame you for the choices I’ve made.” She stroked his hair softly. “Did I want other kids? Yes. Yes, of course! But you are an only child, and that is -”
“My fault,” he interrupted, his voice muffled by his face pressing into her curls.
“No. My choice,” she finished. “When you were younger, of course, you could be a difficult child. I would have thought the hospital switched babies on me if you had been anything else. But nothing you’ve done or could have done would have made me not want children.”
She gripped his shoulders tightly and pulled him away from her so that she could look in his eyes. Or rather so that her son could see hers. “If I had gotten pregnant, nothing you or your father could do would have stopped me from having that baby.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward at the thought. It had been so long since Yelina had contemplated this time in her life, and it felt almost bittersweet to do it now.
“I’d had you,” she said gently. “And you were so…. Perfect. The way you looked at me - loved me when you were young. How could I not want to have that happen as many times as I could?”
His olive cheeks became just a slightly redder shade, and he looked away. The “I’m sorry” he uttered barely audible. The brunette wasn’t even sure he’d said it. But instinctively she knew that he had.
“This isn’t your fault,” she told him again, her voice louder and stronger. “I wanted to have more, but I don’t. And I don’t cry myself to sleep at night, because it’s just the two of us.”
“‘Just the two of us’?” he asked, repeating her words and twisting them around.
“I don’t mean merely the two of us, Ray.” Really, it was infuriating how he always read into what she said and manipulated it to the worst connotation possible. “I meant…” But she couldn’t quite finish the words, because, frankly, she was tired of his mistrust.
Throwing her hands up in the air, Yelina asked, “What do you want me to say? That I blame you? That I hate you? That I plan to act like everyone else in this family?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “That will never happen, Raymond. Ever. You’re my child. My son. And there is no place we will go, no area you can push me, where that won’t be true. You’re the one thing in this world that I’ve always wanted - the only person I’ve ever needed.”
She took a deep breath before saying, even more insistently, “I don’t want other kids. I don’t need them. There is no one else I would want for a son. There is no other one - I love you, Ray.”
And she pulled him into another hug then, for comfort as much as anything else. But also… somewhere deep down, Yelina knew that, after everything she’d said, she couldn’t bear to see the disbelief in her son’s eyes.
End (36/??)