A Mother's Duty - Chapter Nine
17 August 5115 (Earth Standard Date)
Gliese 581g (Hubworld)
“Who’s that?” Gray asked warily.
They’d put the head of the bed up that morning, so that Gray could sit up. He was still wearing the restraints, but Samara understood the reason for it better after yesterday’s tantrum.
Her baby boy had bruises under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept. Phillip had told her that he’d been sedated all night, so that wasn’t the reason for those dark circles. His eyes darted around the room, not landing on any one thing, and there was a spark of surprise in them when he realised that Samara wasn’t alone.
“That’s Clint,” Samara answered. “After yesterday it was decided that I shouldn’t be alone with you.”
Clint was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze watching Gray like the hawk that was his nickname. Today, he’d dressed in the official uniform of Torchwood: black tunic and trousers, with the stylised red “T” and dragon that was its coat of arms. His quiver was hanging from his belt, and his bow was hooked over one shoulder. It was the only weapon he needed, but Samara was convinced there were more hidden on his person. Her grandson was always prepared, even though he looked utterly relaxed.
“Even with these?” Gray mocked, shaking his arms as best he could to indicate the straps.
“Yes, even with those,” Samara agreed. “You had to admit you don’t have the best…reputation…where Torchwood is concerned.”
Today, Samara was determined to remain calm, and to talk to Gray like he was the damaged adult that he was, instead of the child he was still in her memory. She’d learned her lesson yesterday.
“I have a good reason for that,” he sneered, his face twisting into an expression of such hate that Samara had to suppress the shiver that crawled up her spine.
“Do you really?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Jamys let go of my hand, Mother. He’s the one that let me get taken by the raiders.”
“If he let go,” Samara said, meeting her son’s angry gaze, “then why didn’t you hold on instead?”
Gray regarded her, eyes narrowed. He didn’t speak, and Samara was just going to let him chew over that comment for a bit until he decided to answer her question.
The silence spooled out between them. Samara felt uncomfortable with it, but let it stand. It was going to be up to Gray to say something next. She’d asked her question, and she waited for his response.
Finally, he asked, “What?”
It wasn’t what she’d expected, but it was something. “It’s a simple enough question, Gray…if Jamys was the one who let go, why didn’t you keep holding on despite it? It would have been easy to do, after all. Just keep your hand around his. Why didn’t you do that?”
The scenario had played out in her head so many times since that terrible day. Samara had made up all sorts of things about the attack on the colony. And yes, she’d considered it, if Jamys had somehow let go. What had Gray done? Couldn’t he have kept his own grip on his older brother’s hand?
No, it wasn’t that simple. Samara knew that, in her heart of hearts, that it wasn’t just a case of Jack releasing his grasp on Gray’s hand. Even Jack couldn’t recall exactly what happened, and she just knew that Gray was the same. Somehow the incident had grown into something else, a far too simple explanation for a horrible event.
Chances were, they’d never know what truly occurred that day on the beach. Samara was absolutely certain though that it hadn’t been Jack’s fault.
“You weren’t there,” Gray snorted. “You didn’t see it.”
“No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “But I know that Jamys loves you dearly, and he would never have just let go like that. He would have taken your father’s directions seriously. No, Gray…I wasn’t there, but you were just a child, with a child’s perspective on things. What you need to realise is that there was far more into it than just what you think you remember.”
“I remember it,” he snarled, hands tugging against the straps holding them down, as if he wanted to grab her. “I was there!”
“As was Jamys,” she pointed out. “And he doesn’t even recall exactly what went on.”
“And you believe him over me?” he demanded.
“What I believe,” she answered calmly, “is that neither one of you were old enough to entirely process what did go on that day. I also believe that your father had no right to ask Jamys to look after you in all that chaos. If anyone was to blame, it was him…and I’m positive that Franklin would agree with me if he was here.”
“Well, he’s not. So you don’t know that for a fact, either.”
Samara sighed. “Gray, if there’s one thing I do know…it’s your father. Franklin was so very dear to me, and he loved you boys fiercely. However, he was always giving your brother far more responsibility than Jamys was ready for. He fell into the trap of believing that Jamys, because he was intelligent, also had the wisdom to make decisions that no child shouldn’t ever have to ever make. He put you in Jamys’ care in a situation where it was only possible for your brother to fail.” She leaned forward, needing to get her point across to her damaged child, despairing that she could. “Let me ask you this…would you have blamed me if it had been me holding your hand that day? Or your Dad? Would you have come after either of us the way you did Jamys?”
Gray flinched as if she’d physically struck him. Before he could react, Samara stood. “I’m going to let you think about that. I’d really like your answer when I come back tomorrow.”
She turned and walked toward the door, determined not to look back and see him lying there, helpless to do anything but stay where he was and digest what she’d asked. Clint straightened and followed, closing the door behind them.
It was then that Samara collapsed. If her grandson hadn’t been there, she would have most likely fallen to the floor.
Both guards looked sympathetic as Clint supported her. “It’s okay, Gran,” he soothed. “You were spectacular in there.”
“I think you’re a little biased,” she said shakily. She rested against him, soaking up the warmth of him, letting it calm her tremors.
“Nope,” he answered, popping the “p”. “You’re saying what he needs to hear, Gran. He might not like it, and he’s not going to agree very easily, but you’re doing the right thing.” He put his arm more snuggly around her waist and began to usher her down the corridor, toward the security centre where Phillip and Ianto were waiting.
She needed them all. Her emotions were all over the place, and she was mourning the little boy that she’d loved and lost so very long ago. The angry young man in that bed bore absolutely no resemblance to the joyful boy she’d given birth to. That boy was long gone, lost to the tortures that he’d been put through.
The thing was, in a way Samara could almost understand what Gray was saying. She, herself, had blamed Jack for losing Gray, until she’d lost him as well and had re-examined her own feelings in the matter. That had led her to come to the realisation that Franklin had been the one in the wrong, to have left both boys in the midst of the attack in order to come back for her, when she’d been fairly safe within the colony cube at the time. He shouldn’t have left them alone like that, thinking that Jamys would be able to handle the responsibility of looking after his younger brother. Jack had failed, but then Samara knew now that he really had much of a chance to succeed as it was.
If she could get Gray to see that as well…
There was a part of her that despaired that would ever happen.
Gliese 581g (Hubworld)
“Who’s that?” Gray asked warily.
They’d put the head of the bed up that morning, so that Gray could sit up. He was still wearing the restraints, but Samara understood the reason for it better after yesterday’s tantrum.
Her baby boy had bruises under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept. Phillip had told her that he’d been sedated all night, so that wasn’t the reason for those dark circles. His eyes darted around the room, not landing on any one thing, and there was a spark of surprise in them when he realised that Samara wasn’t alone.
“That’s Clint,” Samara answered. “After yesterday it was decided that I shouldn’t be alone with you.”
Clint was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze watching Gray like the hawk that was his nickname. Today, he’d dressed in the official uniform of Torchwood: black tunic and trousers, with the stylised red “T” and dragon that was its coat of arms. His quiver was hanging from his belt, and his bow was hooked over one shoulder. It was the only weapon he needed, but Samara was convinced there were more hidden on his person. Her grandson was always prepared, even though he looked utterly relaxed.
“Even with these?” Gray mocked, shaking his arms as best he could to indicate the straps.
“Yes, even with those,” Samara agreed. “You had to admit you don’t have the best…reputation…where Torchwood is concerned.”
Today, Samara was determined to remain calm, and to talk to Gray like he was the damaged adult that he was, instead of the child he was still in her memory. She’d learned her lesson yesterday.
“I have a good reason for that,” he sneered, his face twisting into an expression of such hate that Samara had to suppress the shiver that crawled up her spine.
“Do you really?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Jamys let go of my hand, Mother. He’s the one that let me get taken by the raiders.”
“If he let go,” Samara said, meeting her son’s angry gaze, “then why didn’t you hold on instead?”
Gray regarded her, eyes narrowed. He didn’t speak, and Samara was just going to let him chew over that comment for a bit until he decided to answer her question.
The silence spooled out between them. Samara felt uncomfortable with it, but let it stand. It was going to be up to Gray to say something next. She’d asked her question, and she waited for his response.
Finally, he asked, “What?”
It wasn’t what she’d expected, but it was something. “It’s a simple enough question, Gray…if Jamys was the one who let go, why didn’t you keep holding on despite it? It would have been easy to do, after all. Just keep your hand around his. Why didn’t you do that?”
The scenario had played out in her head so many times since that terrible day. Samara had made up all sorts of things about the attack on the colony. And yes, she’d considered it, if Jamys had somehow let go. What had Gray done? Couldn’t he have kept his own grip on his older brother’s hand?
No, it wasn’t that simple. Samara knew that, in her heart of hearts, that it wasn’t just a case of Jack releasing his grasp on Gray’s hand. Even Jack couldn’t recall exactly what happened, and she just knew that Gray was the same. Somehow the incident had grown into something else, a far too simple explanation for a horrible event.
Chances were, they’d never know what truly occurred that day on the beach. Samara was absolutely certain though that it hadn’t been Jack’s fault.
“You weren’t there,” Gray snorted. “You didn’t see it.”
“No, I didn’t,” she admitted. “But I know that Jamys loves you dearly, and he would never have just let go like that. He would have taken your father’s directions seriously. No, Gray…I wasn’t there, but you were just a child, with a child’s perspective on things. What you need to realise is that there was far more into it than just what you think you remember.”
“I remember it,” he snarled, hands tugging against the straps holding them down, as if he wanted to grab her. “I was there!”
“As was Jamys,” she pointed out. “And he doesn’t even recall exactly what went on.”
“And you believe him over me?” he demanded.
“What I believe,” she answered calmly, “is that neither one of you were old enough to entirely process what did go on that day. I also believe that your father had no right to ask Jamys to look after you in all that chaos. If anyone was to blame, it was him…and I’m positive that Franklin would agree with me if he was here.”
“Well, he’s not. So you don’t know that for a fact, either.”
Samara sighed. “Gray, if there’s one thing I do know…it’s your father. Franklin was so very dear to me, and he loved you boys fiercely. However, he was always giving your brother far more responsibility than Jamys was ready for. He fell into the trap of believing that Jamys, because he was intelligent, also had the wisdom to make decisions that no child shouldn’t ever have to ever make. He put you in Jamys’ care in a situation where it was only possible for your brother to fail.” She leaned forward, needing to get her point across to her damaged child, despairing that she could. “Let me ask you this…would you have blamed me if it had been me holding your hand that day? Or your Dad? Would you have come after either of us the way you did Jamys?”
Gray flinched as if she’d physically struck him. Before he could react, Samara stood. “I’m going to let you think about that. I’d really like your answer when I come back tomorrow.”
She turned and walked toward the door, determined not to look back and see him lying there, helpless to do anything but stay where he was and digest what she’d asked. Clint straightened and followed, closing the door behind them.
It was then that Samara collapsed. If her grandson hadn’t been there, she would have most likely fallen to the floor.
Both guards looked sympathetic as Clint supported her. “It’s okay, Gran,” he soothed. “You were spectacular in there.”
“I think you’re a little biased,” she said shakily. She rested against him, soaking up the warmth of him, letting it calm her tremors.
“Nope,” he answered, popping the “p”. “You’re saying what he needs to hear, Gran. He might not like it, and he’s not going to agree very easily, but you’re doing the right thing.” He put his arm more snuggly around her waist and began to usher her down the corridor, toward the security centre where Phillip and Ianto were waiting.
She needed them all. Her emotions were all over the place, and she was mourning the little boy that she’d loved and lost so very long ago. The angry young man in that bed bore absolutely no resemblance to the joyful boy she’d given birth to. That boy was long gone, lost to the tortures that he’d been put through.
The thing was, in a way Samara could almost understand what Gray was saying. She, herself, had blamed Jack for losing Gray, until she’d lost him as well and had re-examined her own feelings in the matter. That had led her to come to the realisation that Franklin had been the one in the wrong, to have left both boys in the midst of the attack in order to come back for her, when she’d been fairly safe within the colony cube at the time. He shouldn’t have left them alone like that, thinking that Jamys would be able to handle the responsibility of looking after his younger brother. Jack had failed, but then Samara knew now that he really had much of a chance to succeed as it was.
If she could get Gray to see that as well…
There was a part of her that despaired that would ever happen.