Title: Midnight Shift: Chapter Fifty, Blue Skies
Rating: PG-13 [language, drugs, sadness]

Summary: A few people close to Summer rally to support her. Jimmy tries to help dig Robert out of his deepening depression...




A week ago, sitting in Joni’s living room, waiting for Bob Dylan to arrive, would have been a weird thought. It was surreal to even him and by then Cameron had already spent some rather crazy days and nights with infamous people. They all seemed to treat him as normal now, but he still had moments of butterflies. Sitting on Joni Mitchell’s sofa while she passed a joint to Summer seemed odd a few days prior. That scene was now normal. None of this explained his nerves. He nearly reached for the circulating joint, but stopped himself short. He did not want to be high when he met Bob.

But why? Bob likely would understand, especially considering the company. It was highly unlikely the musician would think poorly of Cameron being high. In fact, being sober might concern Bob more. He was not sure, since he had not met Dylan before.

He was overthinking things. Again.  Just the night before, Summer caught him lost in thought and teased him. Cameron believed that to be an improvement in the week since returning to California. Without realizing it, he was once again overthinking things.

“Dammit,” Cameron muttered and stood up.

“What?” Summer asked.

His dark eyes went to the young girl who still cradled the doll, despite smoking a joint, “Nothing.”

She held the doll up to him, “Will you take her?”

Very familiar with this charade, Cameron accepted the doll before he left the room. Setting the doll on the counter in the bathroom, he sighed before relieving himself. He really hoped that Bob would be able to break through to Summer. The doll was a bit much, especially a week later. He just did not understand why Joni did nothing about it. Wasn’t she supposed to be helping Summer? Was he the only one who cared? Would Bob step in and help his daughter?

“Oh,” he muttered, turning off the faucet after washing his hands. “Bob is Summer’s dad. But why would that make me… ugh.”

Picking up the doll, he returned to the living room, giving her back to Summer. The pretty blonde smiled at him before cradling the toy once more. Sighing Cameron sat back down. He wanted to point out how crazy her behavior really was, but he remained silent. He had no right — or did he? He was not sure.

Before he was able to admonish himself once more, a knock sounded at the door. Cameron’s entire body tensed. He was nearly able to process that Bob Dylan was there before the door opened. Realizing how close he sat to Summer, Cameron jumped up as soon as Bob entered the room.

Chuckling, Joni introduced the two. While Bob grumbled a greeting to the young man, he paid him no attention. Instead, he stepped around the journalist and sat next to Summer. The girl’s bloodshot eyes turned to her father. The folksinger instantly filled with worry. They might not be close but he knew his daughter was deeply rocked by losing her baby. Just seeing the haunted pain clouded by her high was enough for Bob to forget his anger about her being knocked up and abandoned by those rock stars.  All that mattered was bringing back the light in her eyes.

His gaze dropped down to the doll in her lap. Having spoken with Joni daily since Summer returned to California, he knew all about the doll. He shared Joni’s concern over the doll, but he knew it was a coping mechanism.

“Who’s this?” he asked softly, eyes still on the doll.

Summer smiled, lifted the doll, and held it out to Bob, “This is Tova, Dad.”

He accepted the doll, “Hello, Tova. Your grandmother was just as beautiful as you. I’m glad you were named after her.”

Watching Bob interact with Summer’s doll was more than he could handle. Throwing his hands up, Cameron turned and left the room. Instantly noticing Summer’s reaction to the boy’s departure, Joni excused herself, claiming to be fetching tea for Bob.

“What is your problem, Cameron?” she asked evenly as she removed a glass from the cupboard.

He stared at her silently, “Are you kidding me?”

She filled the glass with ice, “You have been the perfect friend to Summer this past week, but another guy comes over —who is her father— and you become insolent? I don’t understand.”

Cameron quickly responded, “I thought he was coming over to help her, not to encourage the insanity with the doll.”

Joni closed the fridge after filling the glass, “While I agree the doll is a bit silly, you of all people know how much that girl has gone through. If this is how she mourns the child she never saw, leave her be.”

“But—”

“Leave her be, Cameron,” she repeated. “Besides, you’re not making a good impression on her father.”

Swearing under his breath as the songstress left the kitchen, Cameron quickly turned her words over. She was right, of course. All that mattered was Summer getting better, no matter how weird it was. He would suck it up and not say anything more.

“How long are you staying, Dad?” Summer asked Bob as Cameron returned to the living room.

“As long as you need me to, Summer,” he responded.

In that moment, Bob stopped being the Bob Dylan and became Summer’s father to Cameron.

And his nerves returned.



Though he snuck an occasional phone call to Joni, Jimmy attempted to focus his attention on Robert’s recovery. Yet it grew more difficult by the day. Not because Robert was surly or anything — but rather because Jimmy was running out of ideas of ways to distract the singer. He was itching for music himself, as it really was the greatest distraction — aside from sex — from life. Yet even though Jimmy had pulled his guitar out the previous evening, Robert showed no interest. The guitarist was at a loss.

Heading into the rented Swiss castle, Jimmy sought Robert. Unsurprisingly, the blonde sat in his wheelchair, facing the mountains, book open in his lap. Glancing at the page, Jimmy knew it had not been touched in the hour of his absence. How could he snap Robert out of his darkness?

“I spoke with the housekeeper earlier,” he stated, sitting next to his friend. “There is a barn nearby where we can—”

“Like bloody hell we can,” Robert hissed. “I can’t walk. I cannot fucking ride a horse. The nurse has to fucking hold my nob when I piss.”

Jimmy smirked, “How is that bad?”

The singer did not even glance over, “I’m completely incapable of taking care of myself. My wife and kids… my wife…”

“Maureen is doing really well,” he pointed out. “Might even go home this week.”

“I should be there, Jimmy. Not in fucking Switzerland.”

“What good would that do? The bloody government would take all your money. Then how could you help your family?”

“I don’t know. Being here is not… fuck. Have you heard anything about Summer?”

Not even pausing to consider his lie, Jimmy instantly replied, “She’s with Joni. That’s all I know, Percy.”

“So we can call her?” hope briefly filled his voice.

The guitarist paused briefly, “I guess we could, but it’s three in the morning right now.”

Not even thinking to calculate it himself, Robert nodded, “Better wait until later then. I don’t want to wake her.”

“That would be impolite,” Jimmy agreed. “Bonzo should be here tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

He nodded, “Yes. I think Jonesy is with his family travelling about, but I’m sure he would happily join us if you wanted.”

“Why bother…”

Frowning, Jimmy attempted to convince Robert that visitors would cheer him up. After thirty minutes of that, he stood, shaking his head, and left the depressed singer to stare out the windows at the Swiss Alps. What was going on in Robert’s mind, he could not fathom. He had to break through to him, somehow.

Glancing at a large grandfather clock, he realized only one person would be able to get through to Robert. It pained him greatly to even consider reconnecting his princess with the singer. Yet as emotional as that thought was, Jimmy realized it could very well be the only solution. Robert and Summer had a connection; he could not deny that at all. And he knew she was still struggling with the child’s death. Was his reluctance to step aside keeping the pair from forging through the darkness?

Opening a bottle of Jack, Jimmy poured himself a large glass. Sipping the amber liquid, he pondered his options. He could ring up Summer, put Robert on the line, and let Fate decide the rest. Though it might be the most logical thing to do, Jimmy just did not like what it could mean to him. He did not like not being in charge.



Waking with a start, Cameron reached across the bed for Summer. Though he had not liked sharing a bed with her for a moment, with her father in the house at least, everyone else did not even blink when she told him he could not sleep on the sofa that night. Maybe it was because that was where Bob was going to sleep. That would make sense.

But that was not what woke him in the middle of the night. Her unexpected absence was. Coupled with the fact her side of the small bed was cold, Cameron knew she was not just in the bathroom. He threw aside the crisp sheet and rolled out of bed. Shuffling out of the room, he rubbed his face before padding into the kitchen. He flicked on the overhead light and waited for his eyes to adjust.

“Summer?” he muttered softly, though he did not see her anywhere.

His dark eyes noticed the door to the backyard was cracked just enough that the September rain dripped on the kitchen tiles. Though he probably should have grabbed a jacket, or at least a sweatshirt to pull over his white undershirt, Cameron instantly knew Summer was out in the chilly rain and did not pause to think. Instead, he stepped out of the house, searching for her.

“Summer?” he called a bit louder, scanning Joni’s backyard. “Sum? Are you out here?”

Gaze dropping to the ground, he noticed slight footprints in the nearby grass. Using that as enough of a sign, Cameron headed in that direction. Hearing her pained sobs, he struggled to decide if he should hurry or slow down. As she did not seem to be in any physical pain, he slowed his steps slightly so as to not frighten her.

With very little light highlighting her because of the rain storm, Cameron watched the young blond woman. Her fingers dug into the mud, creating a small trench. Noticing the doll in the garden beside her, he realized what she was doing. Without thought, he stepped forward to help her. She glanced up at him, her tears mixing with the rain streaking her cheeks, but did not stop digging the muddy grave. Cameron knelt beside her in the mud, leaned over and kissed her forehead, before turning to help dig with his hands as well.

Once the sloppy hole was big enough to contain the doll, Summer picked it up from the ground, squeezed it tightly to her, and sobbed a few unintelligible words.  Her eyes went to Cameron’s, seeking his silent support in what she was doing. He merely nodded once, a muddy hand on her wet shoulder. Nodding back, she gently laid the doll in the trench. Together they heaped mud over the doll until only a small mound remained.

They remained kneeling in the garden for a few minutes, while Summer bawled in Cameron’s arms.  Once her sobs subsided slightly, he gently encouraged her to stand. Guiding her back up to Joni’s house, he did not realize how filthy they were until they reached the back patio. He paused, intending to tell Summer they should at least hose off before going inside, but before he could, Joni and Bob stepped out of the house with towels. While Joni wrapped one around the young woman and guided her inside, Bob tossed one at Cameron, their eyes meeting briefly. Both knew Bob would say nothing, but his slight nod was enough thanks to the young writer.

The four sat around the kitchen table, sipping hot tea spiked with rum until the remaining mud flaked off Summer’s and Cameron’s skin. With little encouragement, the two young adults returned to the guest room. They slipped back into the bed, without showering. Snuggled against his chest, Summer cried for a few more minutes before falling into a deep sleep. Sighing, Cameron pushed her hair from her face and kissed her forehead once again.

“Nothing but blue skies from now on, Summer. Nothing but blue skies,” he whispered.



Though he had resisted it, Jimmy eventually relented. Robert was not getting any better in Switzerland, even with Bonzo’s visit. The singer’s mood seemed to be dipping lower and lower. The only option was to risk the one thing he did not want to risk: Robert and Summer in close proximity to each other. His only solace was the fact Summer did not know they were coming and Robert was not at all mobile. Going to Malibu could be a good thing.

“I will join you in a few days, Percy,” he declared as the singer was helped into the wheelchair at the airport. “Try not to bugger all of the women in Malibu before I get there.”

Robert did not even crack a smile, “I doubt that will be an issue.”

“I will join you in a few days,” Jimmy repeated, before motioning to Robert’s nurse to escort him to the plane.

Waiting for a few minutes, the guitarist turned and headed towards his own departure. He probably should have returned to the States with Robert, especially to make sure there was not an accidental reunion between the two blondes, but duty called. He only hoped that Charlotte would not keep him in France long.

Drinking one or perhaps two more drinks than he should have on the flight, Jimmy was a bit soused by the time he reached Paris. It did not occur to him that his common law wife would have their daughter with her; at least not until his car pulled up at the hotel in which he was to meet her. Deciding the best way to deal with the situation was to cover up his inebriation; Jimmy quickly snorted a line before getting out of the limo. By the time his boot touched the marble floor of the hotel lobby, his cocaine high battled with his whiskey inebriation.

His dark eyes recognized her a moment before her little arms wrapped around his legs. In his current state, Jimmy could not disguise the look of disgust on his face as his daughter clung to him. Charlotte glared at him before squatting and peeling Scarlett off him.

“I need to talk to Daddy for a minute. Why don’t you go see if tea is ready yet?” she suggested, motioning to the nearby café table.

The little girl nodded and hurried back to the table where her doll still occupied a chair.

“How dare you,” the Frenchwoman seethed under her breath. “How dare you show up like this in front of your daughter.”

Pulling a cigarette out of a silver case, Jimmy slipped it between his lips and casually lit it and inhaled deeply before replying, “Show up like what, love?”

Her eyes remained narrow, angered slits, “High out of your mind, Jimmy.”

His face showed no emotional reaction, “I do not know what you speak of, Charlotte. I am completely fine.”

“You just recoiled from your daughter like she was the spawn of Satan,” she declared softly.

“If you were to speak with any number of our critics, some would say what you just spoke is in fact the truth,” he declared coolly.

She rolled her eyes, “Jimmy, this is no laughing matter.”

“Do I look mirthful?”

“Jimmy.”

“Charlotte.”

“Our daughter…”

He glanced over at the young girl, who was happily talking to her toy, “Seems very well to me.”

Throwing her hands up in defeat, the former model turned quickly and headed over to the young girl. Smirking, Jimmy continued to suck on his cigarette, his dark eyes focused on the pair. Feeling that he once more had control of the situation, he ground it out in a nearby silver tray before heading towards them. Though he did not smile, he accepted Scarlet’s invitation to sit where her toy had been. He could play this role for a couple of hours.

Then he was intending to head west and return to sun-filled, blue California skies.