Title: Empty Moments
Characters: Jimmy Page, Summer Dylan, James Dylan-Page
Word Count: 881
Rating: PG [sadness]
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: Summer is missing Jimmy. Jimmy is missing... life.




“Home for Christmas”

You know that I'll be waiting 
To hear your footsteps saying 
That you'll be coming home for Christmas. 

Please say you won't forget me 
That every moment's empty 
But only 'til you're coming home for Christmas. 

If I only had wings 
Then I would fly to you 
Through all the snowy weather 
We'd be together 
No one makes me feel the way you do. 

You know that I'll be waiting
To hear your footsteps saying 
That you'll be coming home 

Home for Christmas.



December 1980

It had been four and a half weeks since she had seen Jimmy. It had been thirty-one days since he hugged and played with his son. It had been seven hundred forty-four hours since she had kissed Jimmy. And it was beginning to drive her insane. Sure, she loved their house in the Garden District of New Orleans. James loved playing out in the gardens as much as she did. She would give it all up to be with Jimmy, in an instant. She understood how hard it was to lose Bonzo; she missed him every day too. She did not understand how Jimmy could leave his fiancée and toddler son alone – especially with Christmas the following day. 

After singing James to sleep, she headed downstairs to the parlour. Forgoing her guitar, which hung next to Jimmy’s untouched, dusty acoustic, she plucked a book off the bookcase. With a blanket in her lap, she sat on the window seat and opened up the book. Struggling to read, not because she was unable but because she could not focus, Summer set it down on the table. She sighed and pulled the blanket tightly around her. Leaning against the window, Summer closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay.

She was waiting to hear Jimmy’s footsteps, but everything inside her said she was waiting in vain. He was not going to come home for Christmas. And she would have to put on a happy face for James in the morning.

“Every moment is so empty without you,” she muttered before falling asleep, her cheek against the window pane.



Sitting in the London airport, Jimmy dosed off again. It seemed to happen more often of late and he did not understand it. Sometimes a line of blow would counteract it, but not often. Not that any of it mattered any more. He had let down the world already when Bonzo died in his house. The mere thought of the dark moment always made him reach for another substance, another drink, another woman. He refused to touch his guitar and did not protest remotely when Robert declared the band should announce they were no more without Bonzo. He merely nodded his agreement and shuffled out the room, back into the arms of oblivion.

During a brief moment of clarity, he booked a flight to New Orleans, intending to fly through anything to spend Christmas with Summer and his son. But that moment was now gone as he passed out in the airport. The last flight to the States took off without him. He would be spending Christmas alone. And so would Summer and James.



A familiar wail woke her with a start, causing Summer to smack her hand into the cold window. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to find some sort of orientation before pivoting to place her feet on the carpet. Digging her toes into the carpet, she glanced around the room and sighed. He had not snuck into the house while she slept. She could feel it.

Finally standing up, the boy’s scream fading some, Summer headed upstairs to scoop her two-year old out of his crib. She covered him with kisses until his cries stopped before sitting down with him in the rocking chair. James smiled up at her before latching onto her breast, happily suckling. Though he now ate hard foods, he still nursed twice a day, in the morning and right before bed. Summer did not mind at all. It seemed to increase their bond and she had read somewhere that breastfeeding was a natural birth control.

Not that Jimmy was around to have sex with anyways.

She sighed sadly, causing James to stop his feeding and look up at her. Quickly noticing that he noticed her sadness, she brushed his curly dark hair from his face and smiled down at him. Apparently at ease, James continued to nurse, gurgling happily.

Once he finished and she changed his pants, Summer asked him if he wanted to go see what Santa brought during the night. The toddler eagerly cheered and clapped, wiggling out of her arms to hurry to the stairs. He turned around and backed down the staircase; Summer stepping down slowly with him. Once the two-year-old reached the bottom, he bolted into the living room, stopping near the fireplace. He grumbled as he reached for his stocking but could not quite reach it. Chuckling, Summer lifted it from the hook and handed it to the boy. He eagerly emptied it out, scattering small toys and candy all over the floor. She instantly noticed the frown on his face.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did Santa forget something?” she squatted in front of him, pushing his hair from his face again.

“Where Dada?” he asked, his bottom lip trembling.

Summer instantly pulled him into her arms, “I don’t know. But we’re going to have an excellent day without him, right, James? We’ll open presents and go have a fantastic brunch. And we can go to the park. What do you think about that?”

“Okay, mommy. I miss Dada though.”

She squeezed him tightly, “I do too, but I have all I need in my arms right now. I love you very much, James Patrick.”

“I lub you too, mommy. A lots.”