Subject: FIC: Trick of the Light From: aostara@yahoo.com Date: Fri, 23 Feb 2001 20:45:36 -0000 Okay... here's a semi-original/semi-Oz piece. The names and situations are familiar, but this is *definitely* AU, inspired primarily by my gut-level dislike of Toby's mother. This was actually a class assignment for a conflict/resolution piece of 750-1000 words and fits roughly into the "Advocacy" series, but not exactly. TRICK OF THE LIGHT Toby stared at the woman across the table, his pale blue eyes reflecting an ever-changing mixture of anger and uncertainty. He wanted desperately to believe that the bitter, haughty expression on his mother's face was just a trick of the light, that she was still the gentle nurturer of his childhood memories, someone who honestly valued his happiness and would never intentionally hurt him. Then again, maybe she'd always been this way and it was only now, after everything he'd been through, that he was able to see it. "Mother, you can't seriously be considering suing me for custody of my own children," he said, struggling to keep his tone light, almost amused, as if all this was some sort of joke. "If you're seriously considering having Chris move in with you, then yes, I am," the elegantly coifed and attired woman responded without a hint of humor in her voice. "That's crazy." "Tobias -- he's a convict, a drug addict, and a murderer." "So am I." Her tastefully lipsticked mouth tightening into a thin line, Victoria shook her head. "I don't think of you that way." "That's obvious, Mother." Leaning forward, he pinned her with an intense gaze. "You still see the law degree, the house in the suburbs, the wife and 2.5 kids, but that's not what I am anymore. What I am is a disbarred alcoholic who committed felony vehicular manslaughter and killed a 12-year-old girl. Oh, and who picked up a nasty little heroin addiction after his unfortunate run-ins with the head of the Aryan Brotherhood lead to his wife's murder. Remember?" Toby paused, waiting until his mother's eyes narrowed in reluctant acknowledgement of facts she'd rather forget before continuing. "Okay, so eventually I got cleaned up and turned things around, took responsibility for myself and my mistakes. So has Chris. Other than sobriety, he's the only good thing that happened to me in that hellhole; you can't expect me to just abandon him." "What I expect is for you to not let him anywhere near Holly and Gary ever again. Do you realize that they're actually starting to think of him as family? Telling their little friends about him?" Judging by her pursed lips and sour expression, that was just about the worst thing she could imagine, and it suddenly occurred to Toby that this had a lot more to do with Chris being male than with him being a convict. He sighed, more weary and sad than angry, then stood. "Well, Mother, that's not going to happen, so I guess I'll see you in court." The next three weeks were a living hell for Toby, easily rivaling all but the worst days in prison. Having decided to present his own case, he spent most of the first week at his old law firm, soliciting legal advice and tapping their extensive research library. Once the case began, he settled into a pattern, spending mornings looking for an apartment, afternoons either preparing for or in court, and increasingly awkward evenings at the house he'd grown up in. Those hours were always the toughest, as he struggled to remain the open and loving father his children so desperately needed while carefully avoiding all but the most banal of conversations with his mother. Toby realized that the man he'd been before his conviction -- before prison had stripped him down to his basest elements and forced him to discover an inner core of strength he'd never even suspected -- would've fallen into despair within days. Granted, he did find himself dropping in at one AA meeting or another nearly every day -- two on the day the family court judge sat in on Chris's parole hearing -- but overall he was fairly confident. He had to be; the very idea of losing terrified him beyond belief. On the fourteenth day of proceedings, Judge Lima asked to speak to the children alone in her chambers, solemnly promising to render a decision the following morning. A few days later, Toby turned from loading the last of his boxes into the moving van and gave Chris a sad smile. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." "Me too," Chris replied. "Your mom, I guess she must've meant well, but..." "Don't. She knows damn well that the only things that kept me sane in that place were you and the hope of getting back to my kids. For her to ask me to choose one over the other..." Toby stopped abruptly, his throat too tight to continue. Chris pulled him into a tight hug, not letting go until he heard the door to the house slam open. Victoria stood alone in the doorway for a moment, giving both men an icy glare, then Holly and Gary rushed out, eager to trade the tension of the past month for the excitement of moving day. They quickly hugged and kissed their grandmother goodbye, then raced across the lawn and threw themselves into Chris and Toby's arms. While Chris locked the back of the van and got the children buckled in, Toby hesitantly approached his mother. "I'll bring them back in two weeks for their first weekend visit," he said softly. Victoria nodded brusquely, her eyes focused on a point somewhere beyond his left shoulder. Toby waited for a moment, as if hoping for something more, then walked back to the van and settled wearily into the passenger seat. As Chris pulled out of the driveway, Toby looked back and thought he saw trails of moisture glistening on her cheeks. Then again, it might have just been a trick of the light.