Trust Issues
With the town's preparations for the ninety-third annual Burning Boat Festival in full swing, there wasn't a soul on the beach when Clay and Quinn finally convinced Logan to approach the ocean. Just out of reach of the lapping water, they stood watchfully behind the trembling six-year-old. "Go, Logan, woohoo!" Quinn cheered, more to try and relax Clay's tense grimace than anything, because the boy was shaking so hard he probably wasn't listening to her anyway.
"Nice try," Clay mouthed at her, carefully stepping forward to hold his son's hand. "You alright, buddy?"
Logan's hazel eyes darted anxiously in his direction for a second, then jerked back to the ocean; "Not really," he said softly. "I've never been this close to the ocean before. It was scary enough looking at it from inside the house."
He didn't even smile when Clay squeezed his fingers. "It's gonna be okay, kid. I've got you covered, I promise."
"You probably made that promise when I was a baby too," Logan pointed out, too scared of the thrashing water to notice that Clay's reassuring smile was suddenly frozen meaninglessly on his face. The six-year-old took a hesitant step towards the water, just as the tide surged towards the sand where they stood. "I'm not ready for this!" he squeaked and stumbled back up the sloping sand.
"It's okay," Clay murmured, clinging to Logan's hand as hard as he could. "We don't have to do it right now, okay? The beach will be here whenever you're ready."
When he turned around, Quinn was watching them with a sympathetic smile, one hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the setting sun. Clay tried to focus on her face, but all he could feel was how urgently Logan was pulling him away from the ocean. The six-year-old was tugging so hard on his arm; it was as if the delicate bond forming between them was metaphorically stretched to breaking point. The thought made guilt swell in Clay's chest, barely leaving any room for air and it was all he could do to get Logan tucked into his new bed without letting the kid see that he was spiralling into hopeless despair.
The sound of Logan's bedroom door clicking shut after Quinn had kissed him goodnight finally wrenched Clay from his dark thoughts. "You're very quiet," she remarked, dragging him back to the living room. Whether Logan had sensed something off about his mood or not, Quinn unsurprisingly had. "What's on your mind?"
She curled against his shoulder and Clay slipped his arm around her while he tried to put his despair into words. "Logan doesn't trust me to protect him." The realization hit even harder when he said it out loud, and suddenly the anxiety in Logan's eyes was burned into Clay's memory with painful intensity. "I screwed up my kid."
"Clay…," she began, sounding at a loss for something comforting to say, but the sheer love in her voice pushed him over the edge. Trembling with a surge of hopelessness and self-loathing, Clay buried his face in his hands. He couldn't look at her, because her eyes were too full of affection he didn't deserve. "Just give him time, honey. The ocean is a pretty immense fear to conquer, trust me I know."
"What if he never forgives me?" Clay whispered. "Did you know he has Sara's eyes?" Quinn shook her head slowly, but the question was obviously rhetorical, because he kept talking. "I swear when he looks at me and says stuff like that, it's like I've let her down every time. And the worst part is I deserve every bit of it!"
"That's not true," Quinn interrupted sternly. "Sara's parents forgave you; and so will Logan. He probably needs more time to get used to the fact that you're there for him, that's all. Even being here with us is a new situation for him, it can't be easy." He looked at her with such an intense combination of guilt, hope and disbelief on his face that Quinn had no idea if her words were helpful. "We'll figure this whole thing out slowly, babe…together!"
"You are too good to be true, Quinn James," he sighed, and she frowned at him in confusion.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, it feels like a miracle that you're even still here." His eyes darkened thinking of the strained few months they'd had. "You know when I said I didn't want you here, but I needed you?"
"I prefer not to, but yeah, I remember."
"I lied," he admitted. "I always want you, and I need you even more than that…but sometimes I'm too stubborn to admit it."
"I've figured that out about you, funnily enough," she said coolly, dropping the teasing tone at the anguish in his eyes. "I'm not good at sharing my problems either, so I hated fighting, but I do understand. All I ever wanted to do was help you, you know."
"Yeah, I know," he said softly. "That's why I'm the world's biggest jerk for pushing so hard. I got you shot, and then I couldn't even accept that you were still in so deep with my hot mess. I'm so sorry for all of it, Q. I guess with Logan not being able to trust me; I don't feel very worthy right now."
"Stop it," she said sharply. "For the last time, what Katie did was nowhere near your fault. She was a nutjob and we should just be grateful Logan wasn't around back then. He could have lost his father too." She looked down at their entwined hands in her lap and released a shaky breath. "Hot mess or not, almost losing you was one of the worst things that has ever happened to me. You've got me forever, okay? I don't know what I'd do without you." She paused thoughtfully for a moment; "Did you know that just before I divorced David, I used to tell Haley I envied what she and Nathan had?"
"I did too," he admitted; "Doesn't Brooke call them Naley or something? That's pretty special stuff."
"Yeah, I used to call them best friends in love. Anyway, the point is, the day you told me about Sara, I first felt that same way about you. And the feeling just got stronger from there, from butterflies to putting insanely in love in a contract to…this." She gestured expansively at their home to illustrate her point. "I'm in love with my best friend now, even when he pretends he doesn't need me."
The end of her speech melted into his desperate kiss and Quinn threw her arms around him, clinging as if she was trying to squeeze the lingering guilt from his soul. "He so needs you," Clay moaned; "I hope you can forgive me for being an idiot because I have no idea how Logan will ever trust me without your help. I love you so much."
"I was kind of hoping," she sighed into the lingering kiss. "We'll earn his trust, okay? And in the meantime I'll always be here, I promise!"
The way his fingertips pressed against her back sent a shiver of pleasure up and down Quinn's spine, but before she could enjoy it too much, he spun around suddenly. "Did you hear that?"
"What?" Quinn reluctantly released him and followed Clay's rapid footsteps in the direction of Logan's bedroom. When he shoved the door open, the six-year-old was standing by the balcony door, staring down at the rising tide with a worried frown on his face. "See? Your parent radar is on point already, babe. I didn't even hear anything."
Clay ignored her and crouched next to his son. "Logan? What are you doing awake, buddy?"
"The ocean," said the boy, continuing to stare nervously at the beach below; "it's getting closer."
When Clay shot her a helpless look, Quinn stepped cautiously towards Logan and gently squeezed his shoulder. "I promise the ocean won't swallow you up, bud." She took his hand and pulled him back over to his bed; "Come here."
With a slight sigh, Clay sat down on the other side of the anxious six-year-old. "You know you can always come and get us if you can't sleep, right?" he said soothingly and when Logan looked up at him with his hazel eyes full of insecurity, how much he looked like Sara sent a wave of bittersweet nostalgia rippling through him. "Nothing's gonna happen to you, I promise."
"Do you miss your grandparents' house?" Quinn asked, and Logan turned to look at her instead, nodding sheepishly. "Is that the only place you can sleep?"
"I do like to sleep there," Logan admitted. "I really love this room; it just feels a little weird to be away from them. I get the best sleep when we go camping, actually. Normally I hate the dark, but sleeping under the stars I always feel safe."
"Camping, huh?" Quinn echoed with a smile and looking up she saw a look of such adoration in Clay's eyes that they didn't need words to put their next plan in motion. "What a coincidence, I really love camping too."
"My favorite chair got broken last time I went camping," Clay told him. "It might be time to fix the horror of that day with some special company. Think you can help me with that, little man?"
"How do you break a chair on a camping trip?" asked Logan, looking even cuter than usual with a puzzled frown in place.
"You invite Jamie's friend Chuck," Clay scowled, and Quinn giggled at the pure frustration on his face. "It's a long story. But anyway, camping night it is! You need to go to sleep soon; let's do this."
"Do you even own a tent?" asked Quinn skeptically. "The Burning Boat Festival is tonight; no stores will be open."
"Of course I own a tent, you goof. I've just never been a big fan of using it. That's all about to change. To the garage, we go!" Logan hopped off the bed and skipped out of his bedroom ahead of them, distracted from the source of his anxieties for the moment. "Do you even know where the garage is, knucklehead?" Clay called, halting the six-year-old in his tracks. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Just stay here with Quinn for a minute; I'll go and get the tent out."
Sensing Quinn's proud smile on him, Clay swept out of the newly decorated bedroom and set off in search of his tent. No sooner was he out of sight than Quinn's cell phone rang and she tugged it curiously from her pocket. "It's my sister," she told Logan. "Just sit tight for a minute; I should take this." The six-year-old moved to examine his new comic book reading corner, and Quinn answered the phone. "Hey, Haley Bob," she greeted her youngest sister; "How's the speech for the festival coming?"
"Slowly but surely, it's going okay. It's been a supreme effort not to swear while writing it, my one-year-old is a smart cookie, and I don't want her picking up on these things. Enough about me, how's Logan settling in?"
"Slowly but surely," Quinn echoed. "He misses his grandparents' house, so we're thinking of setting up the tent in the living room tonight. He says he sleeps well on camping trips. Will you hate us for not coming down to see the boat burning?"
"Of course not, honey," Haley assured her. "You're welcome of course, but this is a huge change for you guys. Stay in with Logan if you need to. We can't wait to meet him."
"Soon, I hope," said Quinn softly, giving Logan a little wink before taking the call out of his room. "He's such a sweet kid, but right now it's hard to tell if he or Clay is more freaked out by the whole situation. As for me, I'm just being the best glue I can, for lack of a better word."
"Glue is the perfect word for you, Quinn James," said her sister fondly. "I hope Clay knows how lucky he is."
At that moment there was the sound of thumping footsteps entering through the garage and Clay came into view with a large box of tent parts in his arms. At the sight of her, a smile full of hope made his dark blue eyes twinkle, and Quinn felt the butterflies swarm her insides once more. "Trust me, he knows. I have to go Hales; we've got a tent to build."
"Goodnight, hope you have fun," said Haley quickly, but was greeted with dead air. Haley met Lydia's wide-eyed gaze, leaning into her daughter's playpen with a smile. "Aunt Quinnie-Bear is going to be a great Mom," she said seriously. "Yes she is! Give me five?" But when she offered Lydia her hand, the toddler just grinned and sucked her fingers harder. "Fair enough," said Haley with a resigned sigh. "The speech needs work anyway; let's do this!"
A / N I suddenly got inspired by the immensity parallel Clinn have in 7.12 and 9.12 so this relatively fluffy (hopefully) multi-chapter was born. Stay tuned and enjoy! xx
