A/N: Short but sweet. It isn't in first person this time but there's a reason for that. I'll probably post TBD sometime next week. Big thanks to all my readers, leave a review if you can.
Well you told me about nowhere,
it sounds like some place I'd like to go.
- Modest Mouse
CHAPTER TEN:
Howl
She was running, pulling up roots, burying her own head in the sand.
Down.
Down.
Until she didn't know where she was or how she'd gotten there. Her body ached, her head pounded and she had begun to cry for no reason other than the taste of the salt in her tears. She didn't know how to feel about anything anymore.
Blair woke with a little start, blinking her tired eyes against the darkness of the bedroom.
It was just a dream, she realized, but all the feelings were there and solid enough that she could pull the wires apart. She rubbed at her nose, pulled her hair back and clumsily struck out of bed, her feet on the cold floor.
By the time she scooped Sam into her arms, his crying had all but stopped. He had wanted nothing more than to be held, pressed up against another warm body. He was growing too fast, she lamented, already heavier than he had been a handful of days before.
"Oh Sammy," She whispered, kissing his cherub cheek.
Don't ever stop being my baby, she thought.
He gurgled, his head leaned against her shoulder. She smiled and danced back and forth, luring him towards sleep. There was a band of sweat on her neck, she was made of water, ready to fall apart at any moment and rush towards the river.
After a while, he slumped a little further into her, his breathing heavier. She kept him in her arms for a while, until her own anxiety had melted and carefully placed him back in his crib. It was hard even just to walk away from him at night, to feel as if she'd ever be able to protect him enough.
She carefully peeled the covers back, Chuck's body a lump of cold air. She rolled over, clutching her pillow.
"Sorry darling," Chuck mumbled, "I should have gotten up."
"It's alright," She said, "I handled it."
"Was he hungry?" He asked, a glance towards the bedside clock. 5:24 am.
"No," She pulled her night gown over her knees, closed her eyes. "He just wanted to be held."
"Oh," She could feel his eyes on her.
He brushed her shoulder with his fingers, the smallest touch. She held her breath, waiting for it to end.
"Get some sleep," She said.
He nodded, still dancing on the edges of his thoughts and turned away from her.
She was chasing the sun, trying to feel the warmth. Holding herself together when all she wanted was to be held.
Close but so far.