Reverie

by Holly

Summary: just a short ficlet I felt like writing in which Jean-Luc reminisces about Remy's childhood on the night he's banished from New Orleans.



Reverie
by Holly


He was a child of fear, of abandonment. A child of need…for love and for recognition. He tried so hard and fought so long and never gave up his battle for the security he’d been told he could never have and, in spite of what anyone else may say, he deserved more than anyone, including me, could have ever given him.

In spite of everything, in spite of my shortcomings, he is my son and I love him and can only hope that, somewhere out there, there is someone who can give him the love he needs, who can make up for my failures, who can shelter him in the way I never could. I’ve failed him. I swore I would protect him, never let him know another day of suffering, but I failed him, failed the one person who means more to me than life itself. He deserves someone who can succeed where I have failed, who can give him the love and security that he needs.

I’m a failure as a father; I let him down. I was too worried about the Guild, about the people who never should have come first. I understood my failure too late, the damage was already done. I was given a second chance to undo the hurt that had been done, to make things right, but I failed again…I took his independence as a sign that he had somehow managed to escape the damage that could have been done by the circumstances of his early childhood, that a miracle had happened, that he had beaten the odds and had come out unaffected. I should have known the truth, known that he had learned to never show weakness, to never show the unfathomable depths of the hurt that had been done to him, but I wanted to believe it…wanted to believe that somehow my little boy had been spared.

He was such a sweet little boy, such a little angel. I was so proud of him...no, am so proud of him. He’s always been a fighter – a survivor – stronger than anyone would have, could have, imagined possible. He was fiercely independent, seemingly fearless…now I realize that I should have known better, seen the fear he hid behind his smiles and laughter, but a father wants to believe that his child is happy and I was no exception to that unwritten rule.

Sometimes I wonder if he knows – if he knows the truth. I think he knows in his heart; someday I hope he will know in his head that he is my child. How do I explain to him that his mother didn’t want him but wouldn’t let me have him, either? How do I make him understand that I have always, always loved him and was only doing what I thought best? How do I explain that I made a mistake, a huge, life-altering mistake, but that I never meant to hurt him…explain that sometimes people make horrible mistakes that can’t be taken back once they’ve been set into motion?

I’d rather lose him this way and know that he’s still alive and that I can go to him – find him and hug him and maybe make up for my failures – than lose him to death and know that my little boy is gone forever. It hurts, but the pain is lessened knowing he’s still walking the earth, that I haven’t failed him completely. I can only hope that someday he’ll understand…and forgive me.


END