A cool draft, followed by the sound of the door shutting, wakes John Black. He rolls over to see that Kristen isn’t in bed beside him. He yawns, stretches his large frame, and sits up. He sees that she’s left her negligee on the floor leading into the bathroom. He scoops it up and throws it on the chair. ‘Where has she gone?’ he wonders. All he seems to be doing lately is *wondering* about her.
After showering, with a towel wrapped snugly around his torso, he combs his wet hair while casually looking out the bedroom window. The view is of the vast DiMera garden moments before sunrise. There’s a huge stone wall surrounding the property. Past the snow-covered trees and bushes, John can see the Gothic, wrought-iron gate. There are two gargoyles on either side of the gate, and perched on one of the ghoulish guardians, John can see an elegant black cat. The morning sky is heavy and gray. He scratches his stomach, and just as he’s about to turn away from the window to dress, the sight of a ghost strolling toward the gate catches his eye.
“Oh, my GOD,” John growls, “DiMera!” Instantly, he lunges for the door, not stopping to dress. He flies down the stairs, almost crashing into his fiancé, who is heading upstairs.
“John?” Kristen calls. “Where are you….”
He can’t stop himself. He continues running–through the living room, and out the French doors that lead to the garden. He brushes past bushes that deposit clumps of snow on his body and head. He swings the gate open and runs out into the boulevard. His feet go out from under him and his bare skin savagely hits the harsh icy surface. There’s nothing to stop his body from propelling completely across the road, where a snow pile with jagged edges of ice catches him and bites into his lower back.
He screams in agony.
Struggling to get up he feels the cold air begin to paralyze him. He grips his snow-covered towel, preventing it from falling off, and looks up and down the boulevard. There’s no sign of Stefano DiMera. As John quickly but gingerly pads his way back across the slippery street, he sees the large footprints of a dead man in the snow. And the tire tracks of the car that took him away.
“Damn it!” He yells. “DAMN IT!” Violently he jerks his body in anger, and looking heavenward, screams the ghost’s name.
“Stef..a..nooo!”
As he heads back to the mansion, leaving a trail of blood behind him, he suddenly has a gut-wrenching ache.
“Marlena….”
Marlena wakes suddenly and shivers beneath her warm, down quilt. Though she doesn’t realize it, John’s cry from the street has awakened her. She struggles to fully wake up. Her blonde hair is all about her head. She sweeps it back and looks around the dimly lit room. She thinks she can’t bear to be in the DiMera mansion yet another day.
“Doc!” John yells from the hallway.
Kristen, after chasing him downstairs, has followed him back up. He doesn’t notice her as he shoves Marlena’s heavy mahogany door open without knocking. He sees her sitting up in her bed, wearing a yellow silk negligee whose straps have fallen away from her smooth shoulders. Suddenly, at the sight of her, he can breathe again. His heart returns to its normal rhythm and he closes his eyes in a huge sigh of relief. Stefano hasn’t taken her… again.
“Doc.”
Marlena takes in the sight of him. He’s only wearing a dark green towel, and there’s melting snow covering him head to toe. Focusing, she can see the worry and near panic on his face.
“John? What’s wrong?” she asks, reaching for his arm. “Is it the children? Belle? Brady?”
He sits down by her. “No, Doc,” he answers, not so sure now that he should tell her what’s happened just as she’s waking up. He tries to calm her by touching her shoulder, and shivers at the heat captured there. Marlena pulls back slightly, startled by his cold fingertips. He drops his hand, realizing its temperature, and looking at it, sees there’s blood splattered on it, and on Marlena’s shoulder.
“Oh, Doc. Geez, I’m sorry. I….” He tries to rise so he can get something to clean her with. She grabs his hand so he can’t leave.
“Oh, my… you’re freezing, and out of breath. And bleeding! What’s going on?” she asks him, looking deeply into his dark blue eyes, trying to see what he’s truly thinking, because he’s always trying to mask his love for her, thinking that she doesn’t love him. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
He hesitates.
He can’t bear to see the fear that will be in her eyes after he tells her whom he’s just seen right outside these walls. The snow on his biceps has melted, and Marlena wipes the cold liquid away with her hand, practically creating steam. John feels like he could melt himself, being so close to her.
God, Marlena, how I love you. How I wish you were still mine. How I wish I could get under the covers with you now and let your body warm mine.
Kristen sighs very loudly.
“I have some bad news, Doc. But it can wait,” he says. He’s beginning to feel the pain from the cuts that line his right side, all up and down, from his thigh to his shoulder. Nervously, aware now that Kristen’s behind him, he fumbles to get up, careful not to lose his towel. He smiles bashfully.
“I’ll tell you when we’re all dressed.” He takes Kristen’s hand and quickly leads her out of Marlena’s room.
“O…kay,” Marlena says, feeling completely shaken. What on earth could have possibly made John run out in the snow at this hour without clothes on? It must be bad. She just knows… it must be something terrible.
“Kristen, you’d better prepare yourself for some shocking news,” John says as he dials the phone. Blood and water are dripping from him and onto the ornate Persian rug under his bare feet. Kristen knows what he’s going to tell her. ‘After all,’ she thinks, ‘John practically caught me meeting with Stefano.’
“John,” she feigns, wiping the pink liquid from him with the towel she removed from his waist. “What is it? You’re scaring me….”
“Abe,” John says into the phone. “We’ve got trouble, pal.”
Kristen backs away and plunks herself onto the bed, biting her lip, and searching through her mind for a plausible explanation to give to John for why he *thinks* he saw Stefano in the garden.
After John has explained the situation, and Abe assures him that he’ll send out an A.P.B., John goes to his chest of drawers and quickly dresses his carved up, cold body.
“I don’t know what to say sweetheart,” John shrugs, looking at Kristen.
“I can’t be…lieve it, John! Stefano’s alive? And he was here?” Kristen simulates shock about what she’s heard John tell Abe. He sits down by her, and comforts her, kissing her forehead. “When is he going to leave us alone?”
“It’ll be okay. Abe and I will find him. He won’t hurt us again, baby…”
“Oh, John….” Kristen pouts, “what about Marlena? She’s going to be so upset. After all he put her through. She doesn’t deserve this.” Her ability to lie comes easier and easier the more she does it, she thinks. She could care less about Marlena, but to be the perfect Kristen that John loves, she knows just what to say and how to say it. And showing concern for Marlena is paramount despite the way it makes her insides knot up.
John, of course, is touched by her concern. He caresses her cheek with his hand and gets up and heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” Kristen calls leaping towards him, furtively holding her padding so that it doesn’t slip.
“Listen,” he tells her, “I’ve got to tell Doc. I just hope she can handle it. That bastard has hurt her for the last time.” Kristen sees the deadly hatred in John’s eyes. ‘Oh, my G*D,’ she thinks, ‘if he ever found out I met with Stefano this morning… and that I’ve known he’s been alive for so long now, I will lose him. I WILL LOSE HIM! She reaches for his face and smashes her lips onto his. John allows her the clumsy kiss and turns and rushes off to tell Marlena the news.
Marlena runs into John in the hallway. He looks at her with the kind of intensity that makes her again realize something grave has happened. Her mind is flooding with worse case senarios involving her children; she doesn’t know if she can take it if something has happened to one of her children.
John takes her hand and swiftly leads her downstairs. Once there, he guides her toward the sofa and crouches in front of her, placing his hand over her knee once she’s sitting. Before he can say a word, she’s pleading with him to tell her what his bad news is. He sighs and moves to sit next to her.
“Honey….” John starts slowly. His use of that term of endearment throws her. He hasn’t called her that for so long. John reaches and cups her face with his large hands. His touch causes a flash of pleasure to surge through her body. She closes her eyes, lets out a pensive sigh.
In the foyer, Kristen cowers, listening covertly to everything John and Marlena say.
“Stefano… he’s alive, Doc.” John pauses, calculating her reaction. Looking deeply into her eyes. How many times, he wonders, will I have to say that in my life? Marlena gulps, and opens her eyes. Her face runs the gamut of emotions. “I saw him,” he confides. “I saw him in the garden. That’s why I ran outside.”
“John, I – uh, are you sure?” She doesn’t seem to be able to swallow. Marlena suddenly notices a patch of wet on the shoulder of John’s shirt. She touches it gently, and sees it’s blood. Her breath stops. “Let me look at that,” she says as she starts to unbutton his shirt.
He stops her, grabs her red stained fingers, and starts to bring them up to his mouth to kiss, then, realizing what an intimate gesture it would be – for a strange moment being transported back in time and forgetting that he’s not her husband – he instead drags them across the length of his thigh, smearing away the blood. She averts her eyes from the brief, open look of passion he has allowed to escape.
“Leave it, Doc. You have to listen to me here. I’m positive I saw Stefano. I saw that monster walk out that gate,” he says, pointing vigorously in the direction of the garden. He cups one of his hands over her knee again, and looks at the face he adores, only to be faced with the look he feared he’d see there after telling her.
Marlena’s brown eyes become lost behind a shield of tears. She rises and walks toward the fireplace. Her blood has run cold with fear. If anyone else had told her this she would have tried to denounce it. But John’s words hit like a brick. And as the tears run down her beautiful face, John goes to her and envelopes her with his massive arms, calming her with silent understanding and protection.
“Doc… listen Doc,” he whispers into her ear. “I will not let him get to you again,” he tells her. She freezes, unable to catch her breath, due to the soft brush of his lips and sweet warmth of his breath on her ear. She tries to agree, shaking her head, but he detects the undeniable doubt in her eyes. Overcome with guilt and love, he kisses her cheek, gently removing her tears.
“Please, John, tell me you’re mistaken. I just… I can’t go back to living in that fear. He tried to kill you!” She starts to sob on his shoulder, not realizing her tears are mixing with his blood.
“I know, I know.” It’s all he can say. He knows there’s nothing he can tell her that will truly make her feel safe. After all, the last time he *didn’t* keep her safe. The only thing he *can* do is find DiMera and, if he has to, kill him to stop this madness.
Kristen decides she can no longer allow this little scene of John and Marlena’s to continue, so she tracks into the room, holding her faux pregnant stomach with one hand and her back with the other. Pretending to be pregnant has become so totally second nature to her that sometimes she forgets that she’s harboring a foam rubber baby against her barren stomach.
“Oh, there you are,” she says, acting surprised. “Have you heard from Abe, Honey?”
The sound of Kristen’s voice causes Marlena to cringe and fold away from the arms of her former lover. John reaches for her as she walks away, but Kristen has suddenly replaced herself in his arms, pretending she needs his comfort, too. John stiffens and tells her there’s no news. A thought suddenly hits Marlena like lightning. Kristen knew! Stefano was here to see Kristen! Probably to make plans to kidnap her again. Loathing and fear settle on her like an ocean of waves. ‘What are they up to?’ she wonders.
John pries Kristen away and walks toward Marlena. “Doc, I’m taking you to the hospital, then I’m going with Abe to find Stefano. Kristen, you stay home. Get some rest, okay?”
“Okay, Sweatheart,” Kristen says, squirreling her nose at Marlena’s back like a two year old. Then, she can’t help but add, “You know John, you might not have seen Stefano. Maybe it was the trash haulers, or the gardener. You remember the gardener we had last fall? He looked a lot like Stefano, and I think he’s a friend of Cook’s.” She almost laughs. Marlena turns around and flashes Kristen a horrified glare.
John ignores his fiancé’s suggestion. He doesn’t have the time to argue with her. He has to – he *must* protect Marlena and find the monster who kept her in that cage. Remembering this past summer, with Marlena being held prisoner, and not being able to get to her, makes him ache with a pain so intense, he closes his eyes and has to steady himself against the fireplace.
After this wave of anguish, he instinctively reaches out for Marlena’s arm and says forcefully, “Come with me now.”
Kristen feels sick, too. She is going to call Stefano and lambast him for not being more discreet. ‘Because of his carelessness,’ she thinks, ‘I will have to once more endure John’s obsessive drive to protect Marlena!’
“Uh, John?” she calls demurely. John turns, halting himself and Marlena. “I hope you find him. And Marlena, try not to worry… okay?”
“Thanks, Kristen,” John says. Marlena ignores her, thinking that she can’t stomach Kristen’s lying, especially now. She wants only to be out of her sight immediately, before she does something like tell John *everything*!
When this baby is born, I will finally be free. Free of the lies, free of this evil woman, and free to love John in every way.
In the car, John feels the tension coming from Marlena. She hasn’t said anything to him. He looks at her and sees that she has her hands in two tight fists; a sure sign to him that she’s afraid.
Doc, if only I could take you and the kids away from this insanity. If there was some way to escape this….
“Marlena,” he says, “I know you probably don’t want me to, but I’ve told Abe to arrange for a guard to be…”
Interrupting quickly, she says, “No, I won’t argue with you about that. I trust you, John, and I want you to do whatever you think you need to do.”
She suddenly remembers ten years ago, and the memory of the two of them doing the exact opposite of what just occured. He was trying to protect her from the hospital rapist, and she was constantly irritated by his annoying intrusions into her comings and goings. She lets go of a small giggle, to which John can’t help but inquire. The sound of her giggle is always mesmerizing.
“Oh, I was just remembering your *stupid* sign-in, sign-out sheet ten years ago.” She sighs, freeing up some more laughter.
John looks at her, somewhat shocked, grinning from ear to ear.
“Stupid?”
They share a knowing laugh together, until, when John pulls into a parking space and turns off the engine, he reaches for her left fist. The warmth of his hand makes her fist soften into a comfortable companion. Marlena can no longer stifle her desperate need to cry. She can feel him looking at her, but she doesn’t want him to see her tears.
“Marlena,” he says in a barely audible deep whisper, “I won’t let you go through what you did last summer. I will never….”
“John, please.”
“I’m sorry, I know I let him take you away. I never should have.”
“Oh – oh, no you don’t,” she turns to face him, tears breaking free from her eyes. “Don’t you blame yourself for that monster’s evil! You saved my LIFE!”
John tries, but cannot stop his own tears.
“Oh, honey,” she whispers, seeing and feeling his sadness.
The memories invade his consciousness and overwhelm him. He had suppressed it all to remain sane. Now he fights to keep it at bay, so he can keep her safe. He switches gears internally from grief to revenge, and then looking at her beautiful, strong face, he makes a promise to find Stefano DiMera and put an end to the constant terror.
“Come on, Doc, you’re freezing. Let’s go….”
Stefano looks at his adopted daughter with slight annoyance. Why doesn’t she trust me to take care of everything? He stands with his powerful arms across his barrel-shaped chest. “Kristen, listen to me. I will not let John find us. We are leaving soon, and I will make sure Susan goes through with my plan. I want you to relax. Now…”
Kristen’s seething. She knows how deep she’s buried in his deceptive manuverings, and her subconscious self-hatred makes her feel totally out of control. She feels like she is in a vortex, spinning wildly, forever trying to keep John beside her and away from the woman he loves. She hates Stefano for his evil, and yet she loves him for helping her. Literally giving her a baby. So, she will return that love by remaining silent. She knows she must do everything she can to keep John. She knows she has done, and will do, *anything*; the same as Stefano would. This is the bond they share that’s stronger than blood.
“I have to see Peter,” she says.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Stefano says defiantly, shaking his head.
“Why not?”
“Kristen,” he growls, “you must forget you saw Peter. That must never get out. Do you understand? Do you?”
“Yessss! Yes, I know,” she grits her teeth, and crosses her eyes in frustration.
“I will keep in touch,” he says softly now, grabbing her chin. “Please, do not fret. I promise everything will work out.”
Kristen watches him as he leaves. She begins to panic when he’s out of sight. What if Marlena is telling John everything?
Inside her office, John’s about to leave after walking her in and making sure the room’s secure.
“Doc,” he says, “try not to go anywhere today if you can help it, okay? Abe’s gonna have guards at the house, at the pub, and here. You’re gonna be fine. But promise me…”
“I promise you.”
It warms him to see her brave smile. He makes another vow to himself. I will die protecting this amazing woman if necessary. And to seal this promise, John smiles back at her, winks, and takes her in his arms. Marlena wraps her arms around him and prays silently for his safety. Dear God please, don’t let any harm come to my sweet, beautiful John.
He reluctantly lets go. “I hate to leave you, Doc, but….”
“No, no, you have to go. Please, be careful, John.”
“I’ll call you, alright?”
“Yep,” Marlena nods. “I’ll call you , too.” She laughs weakly.
John turns and starts to exit the office, but before he opens the door, he backs up gracefully and kisses Marlena on the forehead. No words are exchanged, and he is gone.
Sami Brady Reed isn’t going to waste a whole day stuck in her drab apartment. She has allowed her husband Austin to take their son for the day. And even though it infuriates her that he’ll be spending his time not only with their son Will, but also with his girlfriend, her sister Carrie, she’s going to make the most of a cold winter day.
After picking up Will’s toys, doing the dishes, and braiding her waist-length blonde hair, she dresses for the weather in the coat her mother gave her for Christmas. She touches the soft leather, and snuggles her cheek against the fur collar trim.
My mother is such a pushover.All I got her was a pair of earrings. This jacket must be worth five hundred dollars!
It’s this train of thought which has given Sami a reason for living another day without her beloved Austin.
Marlena finds it hard to concentrate on her patient’s file. She sets it down and turns her chair to view the hospital courtyard. It’s snowing. Heavy, wet snowflakes glide to earth in a dramatic panorama.
Before John had left her here, she’d come so close to telling him about Kristen. But she’d chickened out, because she felt that maybe she should let it go and wait until the baby’s born. It wouldn’t be much longer now.
But, if Kristen were planning something with Stefano…
She reaches for the phone behind her and feels something cold forcing her to put it back down. She freezes, fearing it’s Stefano. But when she turns around to face the enemy, she is shocked to see it’s his daughter. Kristen’s gloved hand presses down with a bit too much pressure, and Marlena notices something different in her eyes as they stare at her. No, *through* her.
“Kristen,” Marlena announces, as she yanks away her hand.
“I need to talk to you,” the thin blonde says.
“You might have thought to knock before…”
“You know,” Kristen interrupts, “I don’t have time for manners, Marlena.” She approaches Marlena’s desk, anchoring her arms to it and skewering her mouth into an angry knot.
“I see that.” Marlena backs up and folds her arms. “I have nothing to say to you.”
Kristen squints her eyes in a scolding manner and snarls, “Did you tell John?”
Marlena’s mouth drops. “Oh, Kristen!” She stands up, sending her chair crashing into the wall. “How dare you come here and accuse *me*! After what *you* did!”
“What *I* did?” Kristen straightens.
“Yes! I know it was *you* he was there to see this morning!” Marlena stands before her, enraged.
“What are you talking about now, Marlena?” Kristen asks with exaggerated annoyance.
“Get out of here!” Marlena demands. “I want you out of my office now!”
“Ohhhhh, no,” Kristen stomps her foot, following Marlena who is heading towards the office door. “I want you to promise me you won’t tell John anything until my baby is born!” Kristen grabs Marlena’s arm. “You promise me!”
Marlena turns swiftly, “Get your hands off me!”
“You PROMISE me, dammit!” Kristen frees Marlena’s arm, and defiantly stands her ground, while Marlena goes to the telephone.
Marlena’s guard gets his assignment papers, and heads outside. In the parking lot, he sees his car is covered with a deep layer of snow. He grumbles, and labors to remove it. Once he has revealed the car’s surface, he gets in, puts the key in the ignition, and fails to start it. It turns over and over. Nothing. Dead silence.
John unlocks the safebox that holds his gun. He’d put it back there when they’d gotten back from Paris. He had promised himself he’d never unlock it again. Why would he have to? Stefano was dead, right? Deep down, he knew he should have realized the truth. It must have been denial.Severe denial. Never again. Not ever. He was just lucky this time that he’d seen him there in the garden, and mercifully lucky that the man hadn’t taken Doc again.
He closes his eyes, holding the gun once again in his hands. It’s cold and forbidding. Yet, he tucks it into the shoulder holster after loading it, slides the straps over his broad frame, and fastens the buckle tightly. He winces when it tears at the cuts under his sweat soaked, blood stained shirt. His whole right side throbs with a dull pain, and the cut on his lower back doesn’t seem to be able to close. It keeps bleeding, mixing with the sweat there, and stinging.
He lifts the cell phone from his pocket and punches in the keys. He tells Abe that he’s on his way over to the police station. He also inquires about Marlena’s protection. Abe assures him that all have been dispatched. After folding up the phone, he puts on his rust-colored jacket, looks around the loft and feels a twinge of homesickness.
No time for that; I can smell that rat. I will track him to hell if I have to. This time is the very last time I will have to protect Marlena from you. You won’t even get near her. And with fire in his indigo eyes, and fury in his gut, he slams the door closed.
Marlena feels her tolerance quotient thinning. She feels they have both reached the cumulative end of a shared rope.
“I don’t have to promise you anything anymore, Kristen,” she says, holding the telephone receiver in her hand. “If you remember our deal correctly, I would not tell John about your lies if you didn’t try anything. So, correct me if I’m wrong, but a clandestine meeting with your supposedly *dead* father, right under my nose, breaks whatever contract I had with you!”
Kristen slowly shakes her head no. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Marlena!” she lies, vehemently. “I did not meet with Stefano! Where you get these ideas, I’ll never….”
“You’re pathetic.” Marlena rolls her eyes at the overwrought performance of her former friend. She starts to dial the phone. Kristen mocks Marlena out of her view, stopping just short of sticking her tongue out. “What about my baby, Marlena?” she whines, and reaches around Marlena grabbing the phone out of her hand.
“Kristen,” Marlena starts, “your baby survived your brother’s death. I think it can survive anything. It surely is surviving these hysterical outbursts aimed at me! You and your baby will survive John’s leaving you, too.” She grabs the phone back from Kristen’s gloved hand and puts it back to bed.
“Let me tell you something, Kristen,” Marlena begins.
“No!” Kristen shouts, “Let *me* tell *you*! If you tell John – my baby, no, *John’s* baby, will *not* survive. It will kill me and my baby. I cannot lose him now. This baby needs John, and if you take him away, I *will* lose my baby. And it will be your fault Marlena! Your fault!”
“*My* baby needs John! *Belle* needs John!” Marlena counters.
Kristen lets out a unintelligible grunt, and Marlena sees the wildness in her eyes. It’s not a sight unfamiliar to Dr. Evans. It’s the same look she had confronted in the face of Stella Lombard. Marlena’s professional instincts start to kick in, and though they didn’t help her with Stella, she hopes for better luck this time.
The doors of the bus close and it roars away. Sami looks down at her feet in disgust. Her suede boots are almost ankle deep in slush. She can feel the water seeping inside, fusing with her socks. She stomps into the hospital entryway. She tells herself it’s the last time she’ll ever take the bus *anywhere*. Being in that ghastly vehicle with all those smelly people… ‘I think I’ll convince my mother to help me get a new car,’ she thinks. She remembers how Marlena had written her a huge check once and didn’t even want to know what it was for.
My mother owes me.
A broad smile enlivens Sami’s face as she pushes the *up* arrow at the elevators. ‘This,’ she thinks, ‘will be a breeze.’
“I mean it Marlena, you better not tell John!” Kristen yells through gnashed teeth. She has become hysterical. She reaches for the phone and throws it across the room, ripping the cord from the wall. Marlena stiffens with alarm, unable to speak or move.
Then, just as suddenly, Kristen grabs Marlena’s arms just above the wrists and yanks them, pulling with all her strength. “Marlena! *You*, are not going to take John away!” Marlena cries out in pain. Kristen winds up like an Olympic hammer thrower, and with perfect timing, sends Marlena sailing across the room like a rag doll. She collides with the coat rack, and falls. The force of this action causes Kristen to stumble backwards, out of control, tumbling over the visitor’s chair. She lets out an anguished yelp. And as she grapples for stability, she growls something Marlena can’t understand.
Marlena, unhurt, composes herself. She looks over at Kristen and sees something she can’t quite register in her mind. On the floor in front of the upset chair, is a shiny, lavender-colored object. She squints, sees it has straps and appears to be a pillow. “What is that?” She asks, not really expecting Kristen to answer, and not needing her to. The answers have already started poppoing into her head.
‘Oh, my G*D!’ Kristen screams inside herself. Arms and legs flying in all directions, she picks her body up off the floor and grabs the contraption and without pausing, she whips it at Marlena, who catches it dead on. They look at one another for what seems like minutes.
“You see! You see, Marlena, what you’ve driven me too!” Kristen spits out. ‘It’s truth time now, Doc!’ she thinks. Marlena gets up, and with pillow in hand approaches Kristen.
“I knew it! I knew it, you… you witch! You’re not *pregnant*!”
Kristen, for once, is without a response. She smooths her coat, and adjusts her strewn hair. She tries to act like she’s not upset.
“You lost the baby in Paris, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” Marlena studies the pillow prop, shaking her head in disbelief and exasperation. “You’re not pregnant,” she repeats, slowly, trying to comprehend what this revelation means.
Marlena turns and walks away from Kristen, looking at the pillow with amazement. “Oh, my… you’ve been wearing this thing all this time,” she says, truly astounded at the lengths the woman has gone. “That’s why you wouldn’t let John touch you! And, that’s why ,” she turns again to face Kristen. “That’s why you never appeared to gain weight! Isn’t it Kristen?!”
“Shut up!”
With a fake-out, Kristen tries to grab the pillow away, but Marlena retains control. She looks at this woman she used to like, even admire, and feels only utter contempt. She tosses the pillow over Kristen’s head. ‘What a fool I’ve been,’ she thinks, and turns towards her desk. She pushes her secretary’s intercom button, but Hillary doesn’t answer. She turns to look at Kristen, who has taken off her coat and gloves, and is attempting to reattach her pillow.
“Give it up, Kristen.”
Kristen continues to fasten the Velcro straps, then yanks her skirt down over it, making sure to adjust it just right. She looks up at Marlena who has a tired, pained look on her face. ‘Oh, so you think it’s all over, huh? No way, Doc! My life with John has only just begun,’ she tells herself.
Although Marlena knows Kristen has lost touch with reality, or simply feels she is *untouchable*, like her father, she continues to try to make sense of the whole situation.
“I’m more than curious about something,” Marlena says.
“Oh? And what would that be?” Kristen finishes buttoning her overcoat, then pulls her gloves back on.
“Your doctor appointments….”
Kristen laughs and laughs.
John opens the door to Abe’s office. The same office he used to occupy, back when he was Roman Augustus Brady, and on the police force. It still seemed like a home away from home in many ways. His friend is on the telephone. He paces, feeling like desperate minutes are slipping away. Anxiously he runs his hand through his thick dark hair. Thinking about the whole situation, he’s glad Stefano didn’t see him this morning, for surely he’d be out of town by now. Maybe, if he thinks he’s still underground, and *dead*, he might poke his ugly craw out in the open again where I can….
“Well,” Abe says, hanging up the phone. John walks past him and picks up the receiver. He dials, listens for a few seconds to the busy signal, and slams it down. ‘Marlena must be checking on Belle or something,’ he thinks. ‘At least I know she’s in her office. I’ll try back.’
“Just calling Marlena,” John says. “Anything, Abraham? Any sightings? Any of your men see that old man?”
“Nope. Not yet. Listen, I’ve checked with Rene in Paris, and they’re still assuming the guy’s a dead man. I’ve checked with Interpol, the ISA, and FBI. Nothing. Are you sure it was him?”
John flashes Abe a look that makes it clear he was sure.
“Okay, partner,” Abe smiles, patting his friend on the shoulder. “What do you say we hit the streets? Full force. Check out old hideouts?”
John can’t muster a smile in return, “Sounds good,” he says, leading the way out the door.
He feels he is finally on a path to victory. He’s more than tired of losing.
Stefano slams down the telephone receiver. His broad face reddens with anger. “That woman! She will pay when this is over. She will *pay*! After all I have done for her!” He rubs his chin raw.
“What’s wrong Stefano?” Peter asks from across the room, where he’s just entered. He’s confined to a wheelchair while recovering from a gunshot wound. Still weak, and his voice is barely heard by his adopted father.
Looking up, surprised, Stefano waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, Peter. It’s nothing. How are you doing?”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Don’t you concern yourself.”
“Stefano, humor me, please,” Peter coughs; a wrenching hack he is becoming weary of. Stefano looks worriedly at the lanky young man.
“Susan,” he growls and rises. “I am having some… *difficulty* with her.”
“Like what?” Peter asks. He doesn’t know anything about the situation, and now his curiosity is peaking. Stefano stands menacingly, framed by the window, where the sun shines so brightly, Peter can’t see the details of Stefano’s face.
“Let’s just say, Peter,” he says, waving his arm dramatically, “after she gives birth to that baby, it’s arrivederci, and pronto!”
Abe Carver is on his cell phone sitting in the passenger seat of John’s Jeep. John has put the vehicle in park, but in his mind he travels miles and miles away. He’s going places in his memory where he hasn’t accessed information before. He’d selected to shut down that part of the past. Recalling that time, especially a few select moments, he knew would be beyond agony. Yet, he now visits there, replaying the moment over and over. His jaw aches with pain as he clamps down on his teeth, as the muscles there flex steadily. His eyes are heavily-laden and full of untold suffering.
“John? John?” Abe taps his friend’s arm lightly, and getting no response, he jabs him hard.
John returns from his journey and with an annoyed inflection, blurts out, “What!” He is shaking from his core.
Abe asks worriedly, “Hey, are you okay, buddy?”
“Oh, Abe,” John sighs heavily, drawing his hands across his grim face. “I’m sorry. I – I was just thinking. Never mind.” He straightens up, then breathes deeply to clear away the fog.
“What is it?”
John looks at his old friend who is obviously concerned. He grips the steering wheel and decides to confide in him. “Abraham, I never told you this. I mean, something happened in Paris….” He shifts his weight and clears his throat. “I told you about the guillotine, right? and how I escaped? how Vivian helped me?”
Abe nods, “Right. You fought your way out. Vivian shows up, then hits Stefano….”
John looks at him and tries to smile, but can only close his eyes and swallow hard. He doesn’t want to remember again, but he forces the words out.
“I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell you about Marlena. About what she did.” He shakes his head, still not believing it actually all happened. “It’s so crazy, Abe. Totally crazy.”
“What did she do?”
He starts, slowly, “I had my head in that damn *thing*, straining to look at her, you know – wanting so badly to hold her, comfort her. I’m telling you, I’m sorry,” he stops. Tears creep their way into his deeply sad eyes. He looks out at the snow-filled sky. “This is really hard to think about. I haven’t, you know… I just wanted to forget. Forget *forever* about what that bastard did. I thought I could, too. He was dead. When will I ever learn?” He finally lets out an ironic laugh, and wipes the lone tear that slipped from his eye.
“It’s okay,” Abe says. “Tell me what happened.”
“Abe, she almost died, too.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was screaming,” John says, his voice expressing the improbability of it all. “I was telling her to stay back, and she broke away from Stefano’s men.”
John juts out his jaw, his mouth curves downward as he tries to not to cry. The images are recurring vividly in his consciousness. He is feeling the inescapable horror of that moment all over again. He can feel Marlena’s hand holding his chin as she held her head in the same position as his. His eyebrows rise expressing his disbelief at what she’d done.
“She wanted to die with me,” he whispers, forgetting that’s he’s not alone. Saying the words don’t seem to make it any more real either. He shakes his head questioningly, “Why would she do that? Huh? Why would she risk losing her life? Her family?”
“I don’t understand, what did she….”
John looks at Abe with incredulity written all over his face, and says, “She put her head in that damn thing!”
Abe’s chin drops. “What? She did?”
“If Stefano hadn’t stopped that blade, it would’ve killed me *and* Marlena.”
He asks again, “Why, Abe? Why would she do that?” Abe thinks he knows why, but he’s not saying. There’s silence while they both ponder his query. The question is too loaded. John doesn’t want an answer. He wants to shuffle that memory away again.
“You know, Abe, I’ll do anything to protect her from Stefano. No way is he gonna so much as….”
“You’d die for her wouldn’t you, John?”
“That’s a fact, partner.”
“Well, that’s the answer to your question of why Marlena did what she did in Paris,” Abe says matter of factly.
John turns to his friend with a grim look of realization.
“John, Marlena still loves you. Why else would she be willing to die for you? She loves you as much as you still love her.”
“No, no way,” he says. “She did it – she did it because she knew Stefano would stop the execution. She wouldn’t sacrifice… she wouldn’t. Dammit, Abe, she only loves me as a friend. I’m with Kri….”
“NO! You listen to me. I know you better than my own brother. I know how unhappy you’ve been, for a long time now. Since Aremid. I’ve seen you when you’re happy, buddy, and you *aren’t*. And I could say the same thing about Marlena.” Abe stares hard at John, waiting for another denial.
“Abe, even if that were true, it’s too late for us. It’s too late.” John holds back the urge to scream; to purge the pain of his aching heart.
Marlena repeats what she’d said, only louder, to break through Kristen’s annoyingly brazen laughter.
“The doctor appointments, Kristen! How did you manage that?!”
Kristen, feeling no more need to keep Marlena in the dark about anything, freely describes the bizarre plan Stefano devised. Marlena is horrified, and a bit bemused. Yet, nothing Stefano does can really faze her anymore. Not after being held prisoner in a gilded cage under the streets of Paris for weeks. No, this new twist is just more of the same.
“How he managed to find someone who looks like me, *and* just happens to be pregnant the exact amount of months I would have been, is beyond me. It’s clever though, huh, Doc?” She laughs some more.
“You truly are a DiMera, aren’t you? Where is this woman, now?” Marlena asks. Inside, she’s thinking that she must let John know about this. Maybe this woman knows where Stefano is.
“Like I’m gonna tell you!” Kristen flares, chuckling like a circus clown.
Seeing that Kristen has lost her grip, Marlena heads for the door, saying, “Well, I’ve had enough of you, Kristen. For a *lifetime*.”
“Marlena,” Kristen beckons in a low hoarse voice, grabbing onto Marlena’s arm, stopping her. Marlena turns around and stares impatiently at her. Kristen pats the reattached pillow. “There, see… good as new.”
“Kristen….”
“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Marlena.”
Marlena crosses her arms, repressing an overwhelming urge to shake some sanity into the madwoman standing in front of her. “What am I thinking, Kristen?”
“You’re thinking the jig is up, right? It’s all over for pooooor Kristen.”
Marlena gets up-close and personal. “That’s right, the jig *is* up. Now it’s time to face what you’ve done. The lies you’ve told. You’re going to do the right thing for once. You’re going to tell John every little scheming, devious, evil thing you’ve done. Today.”
She stands back and repeats the last word. “To-day,” Marlena pronounces, determined to get through to her. Seeing no acknowledgement of her demand, Marlena turns to leave again.
It’s at this instant that Kristen does what any desperate, temporarily insane person would do. Shedding any reserves of empathy or goodness which might have existed at one time, her eyes dart around the room, capture in their view an object: a large decorative, empty vase, which she grabs in her gloved hand. And in a moment of cold savagery, not unlike an attacking lioness, Kristen raises the vase and brings it down upon Marlena’s skull, and watches as the object of her hatred falls to the carpet with a graceful thud.
As time stops, she looks at the large, shard piece of vase remaining in her hand. With mindless violence, Kristen squats over the still body and stabs the knife-like fragment through the silk blouse covering Marlena’s abdomen and takes a moment to watch the blood smoulder up and radiate out across the finespun material. She rises and steps over the woman who had the nerve to demand anything from her. She looks down at Marlena and turns to leave, but before she does she addresses the woman she thinks she has just killed, “Buh bye, Doc. I’m sorry it had to come to this, but you made me do it. You rest in peace, now… I have to go and be with John. He’s going to need me to get through his loss.”
Stefano’s eyes are riveted to his Rolex. He and Peter have abandoned the Blake House and are waiting in a stretch limo at Stefano’s private airstrip just outside Salem for the Lear Jet he ordered to pick them up. Peter, who’s finishing his second scotch, tries not to look at his adoptive father. He wants the numbness of being drunk to envelope him so he can forget he’s leaving Jennifer behind. He doesn’t want to go back to Europe.
The sky is blanketed with falling snow. No sign of a plane, and Stefano’s squirming with anger. The sound of his gritting teeth and occasional growls are magnified in Peter’s ears. He swallows the last of his drink and reaches for the bottle between his legs. Dropping his glass on purpose, he starts emptying the contents of the bottle directly into his mouth.
A Shrill ringing comes from Stefano’s pocket, making Peter drop the near-empty receptacle. “Damn!” he blurts.
“That must be the pilot,” Stefano says. Peter tries to shift his weight but the pain it causes makes him groan and drop his head back.
“What do *you* want!?” Stefano yells into the little black phone. It’s Susan, the last person he thought it would be, and the *last* person he wants to talk to now.
“Listen, I’ll send someone right away….” he stops suddenly, looking dismayed. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right there.” He glances at Peter, who has fallen asleep. ‘Dammit all,’ he thinks.
Sami twists the end of her braid around and around her finger as she waits for the elevator to stop and deposit her on Marlena’s floor. She’s worried that maybe her mother isn’t there, and she mentally scolds herself for not calling before coming. As the doors slide smoothly open, the young woman encounters a familiar face.
“Sami!” Kristen says a bit too enthusiastically. ‘Isn’t there anyone else in this town besides the Brady’s?’ she wonders bitterly.
“Oh, Hi, Kristen,” Sami says as she steps out. “What are you doing here?”
Kristen lies quickly, “Just another check-up with my OB.”
“Oh, I hated those,” Sami smiles, trying to be pleasant. Kristen smiles back, then, being in escape-mode, she plows by Sami and steps into the waiting elevator.
“Well, I’m going to see my Mom. Did you happen to see her?”
Amazingly, and to Kristen’s fortune, her cell phone rings.
“Oh! I better get this, Sami, G’bye….” Sami smiles and nods, and watches Kristen unfold her phone. She doesn’t like her, and doesn’t see what John sees in her. Sami watches as the doors inch their way together. Before they connect, she notices something strange about Kristen’s gloved hand as it holds the phone to her ear.
Stefano tucks his cell phone back inside the pocket of his designer Italian suit. He rests back against the lush leather of the limo seat for a second, looking at a slumbering Peter. He longs for the days when things seemed to go more smoothly. When people did what they were told, did it correctly, and in a timely manner. Those days were gone forever. Now, it seemed, he was constantly having to revise his plans because of stupid people and their stupid problems.
He’s just spoken to Kristen, telling her that Susan’s in labor. He’ll have to remain in Salem for a while. Kristen sounded distant and he’s getting worried. He’d told her what to do, but somehow he felt she hadn’t heard him.
Peter mumbles as Stefano nudges him. “Wake up, Peter. My plans have changed.”
One of Marlena’s black high-heeled shoes lies alone, having slipped off when she hit the floor. It’s the object Sami falls over as she enters her mother’s office. She trips and topples to the ground, just missing Marlena’s motionless body, landing parallel to her. When Sami looks up from where she has fallen there at ground level, she’s greeted with her mother’s beautiful, but ashen face, eyes closed, with blood trailing from her nose. Sami screams from a place inside her made only for this kind of shock and horror. She can’t move or reach out to Marlena. Her cries continue flowing until she sees feet all around her mother’s body.
Someone helps her stand up, but her eyes remain locked on her mother’s face. She is silent now, stricken with desperate fear. A nurse holds her tightly, patting her back as they both watch numerous men and women rush to aid Marlena. Suddenly, Sami’s eyes roll back and the nurse holding her catches her as she slowly faints.
Kristen’s hiding in the stairwell between floors of the hospital. The cold cement walls harbor her like a lone rat. Stefano has told her where to go, so it’s here she waits for her double, Susan, to arrive. She’s shivering, so she cups her bare hands together, blows warm air into them to keep them warm, since she’d had to throw away her shredded, bloodied, gloves. She feels both excitement and intense fear, as she dials John’s cell phone number.
When he answers, she tells him she’s gone to the hospital because she’s in labor. She hears the anticipation in his voice and begins to feel giddy with the realization that soon she and John will be proud parents.
When the blackness fades, Sami feels like she’s upside down. She’s sitting in a chair holding a paper cup full of lukewarm water a nurse has just given her. Sami drinks the horrible tasting liquid then crushes the cup into a ball in her fist. Once her senses have returned fully, she looks past the anonymous hospital workers, and sees her mother lying on a gurney. She jumps up, fights her way through, and sees Marlena’s blood soaked blouse and towels wrapped around a large piece of broken porcelain rising from it. She feels the legs under her weaken again, but fights to stay upright.
“Mom! Mom!” she beckons. Marlena’s silent and still. Sami looks around her at the people there. “Is she dead?! Is my mom *dead*?!” Nobody answers her as the nurse pulls her away gently. The gurney starts moving out the door as the attendants shuffle out with it. The last sight Sami sees as it rounds the corner is some of Marlena’s blood soaked hair.
“Is she dead?” she asks one last time, quietly to the nurse.
“No, honey….” she replies as she leads Sami around the beige carpet’s glaring blotches of red, and out of the office.
Kristen’s pacing inside the cold stairwell when she hears the door below scrape open. She stops still, glaring down the stairs, eyes wide and fearful. Then she hears the annoying voice of Susan’s, and relief fills her.
Stefano is guiding an obviously pained Susan up the incline.
“Kristen, thank goodness you are here<” his gruff voice announces. “I want you to go out into my limo. I will come join you soon. Then you will take Susan’s place after she’s given birth. Did you call John?”
“Yes, he’s on his way,” Kristen says, clapping her hands in glee.
Susan looks at her baby’s intended mother, “Oh, Kristen, I don’t think this will work. What if John realizes….”
Kristen bristles at the woman’s words. “Shut up, shut up. Just give birth to the baby. You don’t have to say anything, just let him comfort you. Act like the pain is too much for you to bother with him.”
Stefano whips out his cell phone.
Susan continues to worry out loud, “I hope John doesn’t suspect. ‘Cause if he does, I don’t know what I’ll say to him. I just don’t know what I’ll say,” she persists, then bends over groaning and panting. Kristen ignores her as she listens to Stefano.
“Okay Kristen,” he says, after finishing his phone conversation and stuffing it back into his suit. “You go now. I’ll be there in a short time, just as soon as my man comes for her.” He looks at Kristen and nods reassuringly. “Go.”
Kristen smiles with giddy happiness, and reaches up to kiss her father’s cheek.
“Thank you, Father. Thank you, thank you!” Then she skips down the stairs. Stefano smiles to himself, proud of his many talents, and his renewed relationship with Kristen. He never thought he’d be working so hard to help her stay with John, but everything changed once he made up his mind to have Marlena as his own.
Holding Susan’s upper arm in a tight grip, he watches for the door to open and his paid help to come through it to take the miserable creature away.
John and Abe are walking briskly through the parking lot and wafting snow towards the hospital. They both have smiles on their faces. Once inside the entrance, they shake the snow from their coats and boots.
“What’s the date, Abraham, I want to note it in my head as the day my new son or daughter comes into this world.”
“It’s the twentieth,” Abe smiles and whacks John’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”
John grins, and opens the inside door for his friend to enter first. John’s glad to be at the hospital again, so he can check in on Marlena, too.
Once on the elevator, heading for the maternity ward, Abe’s pocket starts ringing. They both laugh as Abe opens it and listens. John, smiling like a school-boy, nervously pushes at the elevator buttons. When Abe’s voice lowers, John turns to look at him. He sees his friend’s face has turned grim. As he folds up his phone he looks at John with alarmed eyes.
“John, I….”
“What is it? Is it Kristen… the *baby*?” John asks frantically.
Abe looks up and away from his friend. John grabs Abe’s arm and clutches the material of his coat. “ABE!”
“It’s Marlena.”
John releases Abe and steps back, bracing himself against the metal wall of the elevator. “Oh, God, no. What?” ‘If this is as bad as Abe’s eyes say, I don’t want to know. I can’t know,’ he thinks. Dread replaces the anticipation he was feeling just moments ago.
The elevator opens, breaking the tension for a second. Abe makes John exit the compartment, then as they stand in the reception area of the maternity ward, Abe tells John what’s happened to Marlena. The two nurses at the station look up startled after John twists around and slams both hands against the wall, his gloves making a loud slapping noise, and kicks it so hard the pointed toe of his boot leaves a dent. John yells, “Nooooo!” He looks up at Abe with helplessness in his eyes. As Abe tries to support him, he pushes his friend away and runs toward the stairwell.
Stefano climbs into the limo and sits down next to Kristen. He has a wide grin on his face. She practically jumps into his lap, kissing him all over his face.
“Oooooh, I love you! You are the best!”
“Thank you, my darling.” He is full of pride and joy. He has successfully pulled off one of his plans, stupid people and all, and has the love and respect of his beloved Kristen. ‘Now,’ he thinks shrewdly, ‘I only have a few more plans to consummate, then my kingdom will be complete. I will have all of Salem in my hands. Including the beautiful Marlena.’
“Checkmate,” he says out loud. Then to himself: ‘Checkmate, John Black!’ Kristen grabs his big hand and holds it contentedly. Imperiously, he crosses his arms, a wide smile stretching across his broad face.
As he leans back into his seat, easing the knotted muscles in his back and shoulders, he pulls Kristen’s hand to his lips to kiss. Her hand is buried in his big paw. He looks at it, smiling, before pressing his lips to it, and sees two cuts there: one on her index finger and one on her thumb. They are encrusted with blood. Fresh wounds.
“Kristen, what happened here?” he asks.
Dr. Mike Horton enters the emergency room. He sees Marlena’s injured body, and asks the attending physician, “Oh, my lord, what happened?”
The taller doctor doesn’t look up when he addresses him, “Someone tried to kill Dr. Evans. She has a blunt force skull fracture. There’s swelling. We have to relieve it soon, or we’re going to have brain damage for sure.”
But Mike sees blood everywhere.
He starts to ask a question, but his colleague continues, “And she was stabbed in the abdomen. The weapon was a fractured piece of the same object that must have crushed her skull. I’ve managed to get it removed, and the bleeding to stop somewhat… maybe you can help here, Mike. This isn’t going to be easy. I’m afraid we could lose her.”
The immediacy of the situation hits Mike, and he goes quickly to get himself ready. “Don’t worry Marlena, I won’t let that happen,” he promises her quietly.
John crashes into the metal door that leads to the stairwell. He forces it open with a powerful thrust and almost collides with a man and woman there on the landing. The woman is doubled over holding her middle, and the man shouts an obscenity at John. John grunts a quick “sorry” to them, not looking for a second at who they are. He flies down the stairs hastily, on the verge of losing control at every turn. His body is on automatic, and his mind is in panic. Abe’s words loop through his mind.
“Someone tried to kill Marlena… someone tried to kill Marlena….”
He’s out of breath and dripping with sweat when he reaches the Emergency Room waiting area. He doesn’t see anyone he knows.
John pushes his way past several people to reach the station. “Please tell me where Marlena Evans… Dr. Marlena Evans is!” The nurse there looks up abruptly from her files at whomever has roared at her. John spins around, looking for someone, anyone….
The young nurse squints at John. “Dr. Evans? Dr. Evans….”
“YES! Where is she? I was told she was stabbed!”
“Sir, please, calm down, I’ll be right back,” she tells him and walks off.
John feels like he’s going to explode. He smashes his fist on the counter and turns around. Abe is walking towards him.
“John, I’ve got the crime lab on it’s way. I’m heading up to her office. Did you find out anything?”
He shakes his head with disbelief, “What happened Abe? What the hell happened?”
“I’ve told you everything I know, John.”
“I have to see her, Abe!”
Kristen looks at the fingers Stefano presents to her. Quickly her mind triggers a lie, which feels like it could be the truth to her, “Oh, um, ouch… be careful. I cut myself this morning in the kitchen, before I came over to see you. I had such a craving for pineapple. I just love fresh pineapple! By the way, where’s Peter?”
Stefano smiles down at her. “Peter. I sent him on ahead to Europe. I’ll be leaving soon too, hopefully. As soon as you, my dear, are taken care of.”
“You are so good to me. I’m sorry I ever felt angry towards you. I know now why you did what you did. I understand how you must’ve felt about my mother. That kind of love takes desperate measures.”
“You are right. I never meant to hurt her. I loved her,” he purrs, and kisses her hand.
“Of course, Father. Of course.” Kristen closes her eyes and pictures John holding their new baby. He looks so happy. So happy.
Susan’s in so much pain, she hasn’t even wondered why John isn’t by her side yet. A nurse is pushing things around in the delivery room, ignoring her. She screams out, the pain assaulting every pore of her body.
The nurse returns and has an obvious concerned look on her face, then looks at John and says, “Yes, Dr. Evans is in surgery. I just started my shift. I had no idea. I just talked to her in the lounge recently.” She has a far away look in her eyes, but John is desperate for news and slaps the top of the station to get her attention back.
“How she is? What’s happening?”
Snapping her head up, she quickly asks, “Are you family? Are you her husband?”
John grits his teeth. “Yes, I am.” The lie came swift and without guilt.
“Please have a seat and I’ll let you know as soon as the surgery is finished and the doctors have news.”
“Do you know when that will be? How long has she…”
“Please, have a seat, I’ll let you know, I promise, the minute I hear something,” she smiles and goes back to her work.
John tries the relative comfort of the waiting room seating for less than a minute only to find pacing back and forth is all he can do without pounding his head against a wall.
Dear God, I let Stefano get to her. How did I manage to fuck up again? I should never have left her!
Finally, after what seems like hours, John looks up to see Mike Horton walking toward him. He looks exhausted. Defeated. John assumes the worst and almost feels his legs give out on him. Mike leads John toward the wall away from the somewhat crowded waiting room.
“Mike?”
“She’s out of danger for the moment. It was touch and go.” John falls back against the wall and buries his face in his hands. He lets out a tense, but relieved sigh.
“What happened? Do you know?” he asks Mike.
“I got here after she arrived. But I can tell you whoever did this wanted Marlena dead. It must’ve been horrible. She was hit on the head with a vase or planter of some kind, and then… you won’t believe this John, they stabbed her with a piece of that broken vase.” Mike appears as shocked as John.
“Oh, my God! Where did they stab her? You gave the piece of broken vase to Abe didn’t you?” he asks, his voice shaking. He has to brace himself against the wall as his knees begin cave. None of this makes sense. Why would Stefano stab her? It’s the last thing he thought could ever happen. The last.
Mike answers, “Yes, he’ll get it. She was stabbed in the abdomen. There was lots of bleeding, but we were lucky Sami found her when she did. *Really* lucky.”
“Sami?” John cringes at the thought of Sami coming upon her mother like that.
“Yes, she found her – it couldn’t have been too long after it happened. So, we were able to slow the bleeding relatively quickly.”
John can’t believe the conversation they’re having. Just this morning, he remembers, he was holding her, wiping away her tears, and *swearing* to protect her. Marlena. He suddenly cannot picture her in his mind. This frightens him terribly, and he swallows hard and grabs Mike’s scrubs in his fist.
“I have to see her, Mike. I have to see her right now!”
“John, I’m afraid you can’t. We haven’t finished closing her up,” he says, pulling John’s hand away gently. “I’ve got to go back in.”
Mike gives John a sympathetic pat on the back. John follows him and looks through the small square window in the door. He can’t see her, and this makes him feel wild with desperation. A million questions shatter his mind, allowing no room for thoughts of Kristen and the baby.
Dr. Robbins, sitting on a rolling stool, glides toward his patient. A nurse helps him put on gloves. He smiles at Susan, “You’re doing marvelous, Kristen.”
A scream is her response. “Where’s John?” the doctor asks nobody in particular.
Another scream. He smiles just as the nurse ties his mouth shield behind his head. This is going to be fast and easy, he thinks. Just the way I like ‘em.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Sami looks up into the eyes of yet another nurse. She smiles and tells her she’s *okay*, but really she feels like she’s in the middle of some cable movie.
“Are my grandparents here yet?”
“I don’t think so.”
Sami jumps down off the gurney they made her get onto. She’s tired of waiting and tired of all these people. She wants to hold Will, and see Austin. Suddenly she hears a familiar voice. That gruff, deep voice of John Black. She looks and sees him across the lobby. She is torn. She wants to go to him, but doesn’t want him to think she needs him. So, she puts on her best stalwart face and walks toward him.
Stefano’s cell phone rings. He grins before opening it. ‘Good news I know it,’ he thinks. Kristen sits up like an eager puppy; her ears perked. “Good. Good, yes,” he says curtly. Then, looking confused, he says, “What are you talking about? He never showed up? Okay. Okay.” He looks at his daughter, “Fantastic! This is much better than even I could have planned!” He beams at Kristen. “You are not going to believe this… good fortune has blessed us. JOHN NEVER SHOWED UP!”
Kristen mulls this over, and somehow knows why, but like so many psychopaths, the truth remains hidden in her belief that she has done nothing wrong today. Nothing at all. Her conscious mind stays clear and focused; as pure as the snow falling from the sky.
“Kristen, It’s time, my dear. Time for you to take your place. You have a healthy baby boy.”
She squeals and jumps up and down. “Oh, my G*d, Stefano! I have a baby!” Kissing his face all over again, he silences her with a slight shake when he grabs her by the arms.
“Kristen, listen to me. You must go with the man I have sent to get you. Do what he says, and quickly. Go! Go, before John does show up! You will have to sneak into her room, and switch places without anyone, especially John, seeing you. Understand? Just do as you’re told, and everything will be perfect,” he pats her head, then kisses the top of it. He watches as she exits the limo, pride filling his heart. He basks in the pure joy of a plan well executed. ‘John, will never know the truth,’ he thinks, ‘and soon I will have Susan back where she belongs.’
“Then,” he says out loud, “I will have Marlena. Mine forever.”
Kristen, with Stefano’s man, Louis leading the way, sneaks into the hospital, up the stairwell, and through the corridors. Past doctors, nurses, and patients, and smoothly into Susan’s room. She is pumped, running on pure adrenaline. She wriggles over to Susan, who’s asleep, and gently slaps her into consciousness. Susan squints up at the grinning Kristen, who hugs her.
“Thanks, Susan! Thank you for giving me your baby. I can’t thank you enough… but, now it’s time for you to go! Stefano’s waiting for you. You have to hurry, please!” Susan stiffens and kind of hisses at her.
“Kristaaaan, John never came in by me. Where is he?”
Louis gives Kristen a nightgown identical to Susan’s, and she changes while the man yanks Susan from the bed and orders her to get dressed. He guards the door, facing away from the disrobed women.
“Stefano will explain everything,” Kristen explains. “Now, hurry up!”
Susan, still in pain from giving birth, dresses slowly. Kristen hops up into the bed. Louis turns around, pulls Susan’s messed up wig off her head and stuffs it into his pocket. Kristen waves her arm at Susan to hurry. Susan smiles meekly at her, and Kristen gasps.
“Oh, for crying out loud! Why did you take your fake teeth out!”
“They really hurt me,” Susan says.
Kristen reaches over to the nightstand and grabs them. They are slimy, and Kristen yells, “Gross! Put them back in!” then tosses them at Susan, who looks at them and puts them in her pocket. “John could have found those! Geez, you aren’t too bright are you? And give me your I.D. bracelet!”
Louis grabs the bracelet and gives it to Kristen. Then he helps Susan put her coat on.
“Buh bye, now…” Kristen waves dismissively. Susan waves back as Louis guides her quickly out the door. Kristen groans, “Thank G*d, I never have to see that face again.” She slides back onto the rock hard hospital mattress, closes her eyes and again fantasizes about John holding their beautiful baby boy. John, John Jr., Brady, Belle, and *her*. A big happy family. The family she’s wanted her whole life. This has been a very productive day. She falls asleep with a crooked smile on her face.
John’s growing frustration shows on his face. He’s been pacing back and forth, from the OR to the waiting room, wringing his hands and punching the walls. Someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns and sees Sami. Quickly he grabs her and holds her tightly.
“Sami, Sami….” he whispers. “I’m soooo sorry, sweetheart.” His words hit Sami in the gut and force tears through her tough facade. Suddenly it all comes back to her. Her mother’s face, all the blood, the deafening silence, and then the screams that seemed to come from an unworldly place. She begins to sob, and allows John to shelter her.
John continues to hold her tightly, smoothing her hair with his hand, trying to help her, and himself, deal with this nightmare.
“John,” Mike says from behind them.
Sami and John release each other and turn towards Mike. He’s smiling. John and Sami look at each other through tears and share a relieved, but tentative laugh.
Stefano’s growing impatient and just plain tired. All day in this damn vehicle. What I do for my children, he ponders. His back is beginning to ache steadily, and he has run out of Strega. Just as he’s about to call Louis, the door to the limo opens and Susan slowly arches her body around and inside.
“Good. Good,” he says. “Everything went well I take it?”
Susan moans, “I guess, but I don’t feel too well, Stefano. I hope you’re gonna let me get some rest.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” He rolls his eyes. “Aren’t you going to thank me?”
“I’m sorry,” she says with a pained expression on her face. She looks out the window, lost in the rhythm of the falling snow.
Stefano just shakes his head at her. ‘You, my dear woman,’ he thinks, ‘are but a heartbeat away from going back to the hell hole I found you in.’
John, holding Sami’s hand, follows Mike into the room where Marlena lies, hooked up to tubes and machines that whir like a mad carnival ride. He has to stop before reaching her bedside. He’s stricken to see her like this. He closes his eyes briefly to thank God she is alive.
“Oh, baby… sweet Doc,” he says quietly as he reaches for her lifeless hand, at the same time pulling Sami around him so she can see her mother.
“Who did this to you?”
Marlena’s only sleeping, not in a coma. Mike tells them that she should wake before long, but he’s not sure.
“See, Sami, she’s going to be fine. Thanks to you,” John tells her. She smiles up at him, feeling loved for the first time in a long time.
Kristen wakes up to the harsh sounds of a nurse banging a cart through her door. “Hi, there. Bet you’re hungry, huh?” Kristen thinks, ‘No, I’m not, please go away.’ She smiles pleasantly at the gray haired woman. When the nurse is about to leave, she turns to Kristen and says, “I’ll be bringing your baby in for his first feeding in about an hour, okay?”
Kristen’s eyes widen, and she tries to hide the panic as she nods her agreement to the nurse. She doesn’t know how she’ll feed the baby, but decides to tuck that little problem away for the moment.
When she’s alone, she shoves the food away. ‘It’s time,’ she thinks, ‘for John to come be with me.’ She’s feeling a bit angry that he’s forgotten her, but she knows why and remembers that it’s the reason for her good luck with Stefano’s amazing plan. ‘I’ll be there for John in his time of grief, and I’ll give him a reason to forget Marlena ever existed. His new baby boy. Baby Boy Black.’
As early evening brings a stop to the snow and a steady quiet to parts of the hospital, John walks quickly towards Marlena’s room. He’s just come from seeing Marlena’s friends and family. It was difficult for him to explain what had happened to her, and not just because of the brutal nature of the wounds someone – most likely Stefano – had inflicted on her, but because of the inescapable feeling of guilt that overwhelmed him. The questions about who and why were bad enough, but to realize that this horrible thing had happened to her just shortly after he’d left her was eating away at him.
John talks briefly to the guard he’d hired before entering Marlena’s room. He gives him the bible on guarding the most precious thing in his life, and then he does it again. Abe had told him why the guard that was supposed to protect her this morning hadn’t shown up in time, and he wanted this new man to know what to do if something unexpected occurred. When he’s assured everything has been reviewed, he enters Marlena’s room. He’s hoping she’ll be awake. He needs her to wake up and tell him who’s done this to her. But, upon entering, he sees she’s still peacefully sleeping.
“Oh, Doc….” He bends and kisses her bandaged forehead. “I sent Sami home, Marlena. She was so scared for you. She loves you so much. I hope you know that. You have to know how much we all love you….”
He pulls his chair as close as it can get to her bed, then rests his hand in hers and his head down by her still shoulder, and plays everything over and over in his mind. He can’t make it make sense. Stefano wouldn’t do this. Why would he kill the object of his sick desire? Why?
As the desired answers fail to come he soon he falls deeply asleep.
Susan tries her best not to scream out when she sees Stefano has brought her back to the place she never thought she’d have to see again. She looks out the window of the limo at the sight of the small maximum security women’s prison that has been her home for the past eleven years. Her heart begins to pound like a rabbit and she feels the blood rise in her head.
“You promised me Stefano… you promised me,” she starts. Stefano reaches over and takes her hand.
“You didn’t really expect to remain free, did you?” He strokes her hand, attempting to calm her. He can see she’s about to lose whatever sanity she has been using in her charade as Kristen these past months.
“Ohhhhh, noooo, I can’t go back there! You told me you wouldn’t bring me back here. You lied, Mister DiMera. You lied, and that’s not right. That’s a sin!” Stefano can’t help laughing at her accusation.
“I’m sorry, Susan, but you, my dear are the last person who should be pointing the finger. I don’t think I should have to remind you that arson and murder are far worse sins than LYING,” he says, then presents her with a hearty, rolling laughter.
Susan squirms in her seat. Frightened and ashamed, she starts to cry.
Stefano’s patience hits a wall. He leans forward and presses a button. Before she knows what’s hit her, Susan’s still tender, swollen body is dragged out of the limo.
There’s music. Soft, romantic music filling the room. John approaches the woman from behind. He’s tracking the familiar exotic smell of her perfume through the darkened, candlelit room. Her back to him, she’s looking down into a dwindling fire. She’s dressed in a floor length, silk black gown with a scooped, open back which dips dangerously close to revealing too much.
Once he’s standing behind her, he takes her long blonde hair in his hands and pulls it up to meet his face. Buried in its fragrant silkiness, he’s lost. She turns, slowly, her hair slipping through his fingers and away from his face. Eyes closed, his nostrils steal one last honied whiff of her golden tresses.
“My God, you’re so beautiful,” he gasps. “I love you….”
Her hands reach up and touch his face. He takes one of them and pulls it across his lips, kissing it softly. Taking it back, she then glides it under the hair cloaking his neck and draws his head down to find her lips. First brushing together lightly, then fusing together in helpless passion, their lips cannot be divided. He feels the soft skin of her bare back against his naked palm, then he moves up and collects her hair again in his large hand and tugs gently but with enough force to extract her mouth from his. With her chin tilted, he slowly kisses along her jawline, then neck, occasionally biting and gliding his tongue across her skin. This causes her to quiver and emit breathless, almost silent cries of pleasure.
Slowly, holding her body closely against the length of his own, he lets the music guide them toward the sofa. Letting their eyes read the volumes of passion between them, they fall down together, and begin to undress each other in between bursts of furious kissing that leaves him feeling intoxicated.
“Oh, John, I love you so much.”
He looks at her laying before him and says, “Doc, I want you so badly. I’ve never stopped wanting to make love to you.” He descends to meet her body with his and she slides her arms through his and grabs the taught muscles of his back while exploring his ear with her tongue.
He feels desperate to have her, afraid it could be the very last time ever.
“Don’t ever leave me, Doc…” he whispers, as he drowns in her flesh. As their bodies move together, a sudden, and very loud ringing bursts out, breaking them from their lovemaking. John looks up thinking it must be the fire alarm. The ringing continues as he looks around the room, then down at his beloved Marlena. What he sees sends waves of shock through his body.
“Don’t stop John. Please, don’t stop!”
“Nooooo! Nooooo! Not you….” Below him, lying naked, and smiling up at him is Kristen. Over and over, in unison with the blaring sound of the ringing, John cries, “Noooo….”
Kristen listens intently to the unanswered rings. ‘Surely he has his cell phone with him. He can’t totally have forgotten about me!’ She continues to let it ring, thinking that eventually he’ll hear it and then come rushing to her, to see his brand new baby boy. ‘What could be delaying him this long,’ she laments to herself. ‘How long does it take to get rid of a dead body?’
His own pained cries wake him. His head jerks up from its resting place near the still sleeping body of Marlena. He forces his eyes open and shakes his head. His mind’s eye begins to replay his nightmare, as he reaches for the menacing sound coming from his back pocket. Kristen. He was making love to Kristen in his dream. So why, he thinks, did it feel so much like a nightmare? Then he remembers, when he sees Marlena lying there in the hospital bed. No, it was Marlena I was making love to… that doesn’t make sense either.
Then, as he opens the phone, he quakes with the feeling he’s forgotten something.
Susan’s begging the two huge men who are dragging her towards the back entrance of Salem Women’s Detention Center. “Please… No! Don’t! I just had a baby! I can’t go back there!” One of the men pulls her up in front of him and covers her mouth with his gloved hand. He instructs her to be quiet. Her prison issue glasses fall from her face, and the other brute steps on them, smashing them to bits.
Stefano’s limo backs up slowly and exits the prison back lot. His mind has wandered back to Marlena, as always. Earlier that morning at the mansion, even before he’d awakened Kristen, he’d snuck a look at her while she slept. He’d stood right over her, watching the deep rising and falling of her breasts as she breathed. He’d even dared to touch her. And as he drives away, he goes back there in his mind and relives the touch he taken of her. His hand, big and reckless, caressing the curve of her neck and down to where her negligee covered her chest. Now, reaching into his pocket, he removes a small velvet box that he’s been keeping warm for months. “Mmmm,” he murmurs as he opens it and looks at the shimmering object inside.
As the long black vehicle turns a corner, disappearing into the darkness, a woman, a mother, finds within herself, a long dormant strength. With it she begins to fight back, overcoming the forces attempting to destroy her.
John knows immediately who’s calling him. How could he have forgotten why he’d come to the hospital in the first place? Then, as he listens to Kristen on the other end of the line, he sees Marlena, the strongest, most beautiful woman he’s ever known. ‘You, Doc. You’re the *only* reason I could have forgotten my baby was being born,’ he thinks. ‘Nothing, or no one, means as much to me.’
“I’ll be right there, Kristen. I’m so sorry,” he blurts.
What have I done? How did this all happen?
He folds his phone, bends to kiss Marlena, and cannot release his lips from hers. Though they are as still as can be, he feels her presence so deeply, so powerfully, he has to force himself to back away.
‘And why, Doc, couldn’t you be the one I marry? I only wish you still loved me. But,’ he acknowledges despairingly, ‘it’s over forever for us. I will never again touch you the way I do in my dreams.’
“I’ll be back very soon, Marlena,” John tells her, and then sadly, barely even in a whisper, he says, “I love you.”
As he’s rounding a nearby corner on his way to the elevators, he meets Abe who was obviously on his way to see him.
“John!”
“Abe!”
They both smile briefly as they almost run over each other and each other’s words.
“Any news, Abe? Any leads?” John speaks first. Before Abe can answer, John’s moving, taking his friend with him. At the elevators, John stands, arms across his chest, looking very intently at the trench-coated Abe.
“Well, partner, everything’s been taken care of up in Marlena’s office. I have to talk to Sami, but that can wait ‘till morning.”
“Good, good.”
“Other than that, nothing. Everything’s on it’s way to the lab. We couldn’t find anything overtly wrong. No visible clues, but we dusted everything. How’s Marlena? Did she come around… say anything?” He props his arm against the wall, waiting for what John will say.
He has a look of frustration on his face. Abe has seen it a million times. The elevator rings and opens, and the two men step inside. John looks at Abe, and with confusion and anger, says, “Who the hell did this?” He walks across to the opposite side and slaps a fist into a palm. “I’m stumped, buddy, but it won’t be long before I find out and *kill* whoever did it!”
“John.”
“And as much as I wish it was Stefano’s neck I end up breaking, I really don’t think he would ever do something like this. I can’t make that idea make any sense. Stefano would never try to kill Doc. Would he Abe?”
Abe, unable to rule out anyone at this point, says, “He did keep her in a cage….”
“That’s a fact, and he came damn close to raping her!” ‘More bad memories,’ he thinks. Seeing that Neanderthal in the garden this morning and having an animal’s hunger to bring him down. To make him pay for every sick thing he’s ever done to Marlena and himself. He closes his eyes and imagines how it would feel to have his fingers around Stefano’s neck. His nostrils flair and his jaw muscles contract as he does the act in his mind. Over and over, until Abe shakes him out of his fantasy.
“John… what are you thinking?!” John looks at Abe with a faraway gaze.
“John?” The elevator comes to a stop. John breaks from his trance and exits the compartment. He looks at Abe, now with a mixture of sadness and guilt.
“I missed the baby’s birth, Abe,” he says shaking his head, disbelieving his neglect, “What the hell’s wrong with me?”
“Buddy, I think you know.”
John looks perplexed. Then Abe gives John a friendly whack on the shoulder, “Congratulations, Daddy.” John smiles, and rubs his shoulder, not remembering why it hurts so much. As Abe disappears behind the closing doors of the elevator, John turns, dazed, and walks through a clutch of nurses towards his fiancee’s room.
John taps lightly on the door of Kristen’s room. It opens slowly at his touch. Sudden glee fills his heart as he looks at the sight before him.
“Oh, Kristen….” He smiles brightly, his blue eyes shining lambently.
“John!” Kristen’s holding a baby, feeding him with a bottle. She smiles broadly at John. He approaches, looking lovingly at them. She begins to cry suddenly.
“Oh, honey, he’s beautiful….” John touches both their heads, and kisses Kristen. As he looks down at the suckling baby, he sees the cuts on Kristen’s hand. He fingers them gently, wondering how she got such deep cuts there. Before he can ask her about it, she clutches his fingers, tugging them away.
“John,” she says, crying now with heavy sobs, “Where were you? Why weren’t you there when our baby was born?”
Sami wakes suddenly, having fallen out of bed. Like a fish caught in a net, she fights her way free of the sweaty sheets that entangle her legs. She struggles to stand, then runs to Will’s room where she sees he’s sleeping undisturbed. She pauses to rest against the bars of his crib. Looking at her quiet boy, she doesn’t know if the nightmare that had thrown her from her bed was about him or what had happened to her mother, all she knows is that the fear she felt was like nothing she’s ever experienced before.
Running down an alley, Susan is limping and bleeding. She crashes into a trash dumpster, and falls to the icy, snowy ground. “Ohhh, oooouch….” She wants to die, but an alien force is propelling her to find shelter and safety. She pulls her cold, aching, and bleeding body up.
She’d bitten, clawed, scratched, and kicked where it counted, to be free of Stefano’s burly henchmen.
“I am not going back there. No sir, Mister DiMera.” She walks slowly, dazed, nearly blind, with dirt in her hair and Stefano’s henchmen’s blood under her fingernails. “Oh, I think I’m gonna be siiiiccckkk….” She slips on the ice, but balances to stay afoot. Grabbing the side of a building, she bends and is sick.
“Momma… Momma,” she cries, though she knows her mother is dead.
She stands upright quickly as she hears the sound of a motor. Squinting down the alley, a blurred light approaches in a throttling rush.
Kristen, using every tear she can muster, knows this is her chance to use John’s obvious guilt to her own advantage.
“Where? John? Where were you for so long?” He bends over her, shushing her, pleading with her to calm down. He begins to cry, horrified at what he’s done.
“Baby, baby, don’t….”
“I was all alone. John, I couldn’t wait. I told the Doctor to stop the contractions somehow, but he couldn’t!”
He can only listen now. He’s tired, so he lets his guilt feelings and anguish over Marlena come to the surface in uncontrollable sobs. He stretches his arm across her and lays his hand on the baby’s warm fuzzy head, then buries his face between Kristen’s arm and breast, where his crying becomes muffled.
Kristen’s tears dry up like they were on the desert floor. She starts to hum a song Stefano used to sing to her when she was a child.
“It’s okay, John, I forgive you. It doesn’t matter. You’re here now….” She strokes his hair, and looks at the crucifix hanging above the door, and smiles up at Jesus.
Wagner blares throughout the ornately furnished room. Stefano, eyes closed, arms hung against the panes of glass in the enormous window, breathes in the haunting music, clearing his head. A man clears his throat behind him. Stefano pretends he doesn’t hear.
“Sir? Mr. DiMera, Sir!”
“What is it?” he growls tiredly.
“Sir, I have some news… well, bad news really.” The man braces himself, ready for the torrents of anger to begin. Stiff and steady, he waits for Stefano to turn around. Stefano does not turn. He opens his eyes and looks up at the stars. He doesn’t want to hear bad news. What he wants, he thinks, is for Marlena to walk up behind him and wrap her arms around him.
“I’m sorry Sir, but the woman got away,” Stefano’s man says quickly, boldly.
Now, Stefano turns. There eyes meet for a second. Stefano bites his lip and walks around the huge desk. Shaking his head slowly, he shouts in a rising pitch, “Find her! FIND HEEERRRRR!!!”
He raises his arm, defiantly pointing towards the door. “Go, you idiot!”
The man clears his throat again, looking at his feet.
“Mr. DiMera, Sir… I’ve got people searching,” he says, finally braving to look up into his boss’ snarling face, “I have news besides that. More *bad* news, sir.”
“Dammit, you fool! Spit it the hell out!”
Again, clearing his throat before speaking, he says, “We have news from our people at University Hospital.”
Stefano steps forward, “Is it Kristen?”
“Hmmm, no. It’s Dr. Evans, Sir.” The man flinches, preparing once again for Stefano’s reaction.
The anger slides from Stefano’s face, replaced with apprehensiveness. He cocks his head to one side, listening intently.
The man sees Stefano is waiting for what he has to say, so he blurts it out quickly, without inflection. “Dr. Evans was stabbed in her office at the hospital.”
His jaw drops, and Stefano grabs the lapels of the man’s jacket, and screams, “You lying bastard!”
Susan slips as she tries to see what’s coming at her. She sprawls in front of the approaching vehicle and lands in the middle of the alley, just one foot from where the black SUV screeches to a halt. A somewhat large person quickly descends from the driver’s seat and rushes to aid the poor creature.
“Oh, dear Lord! Oh, my!”
Susan cannot find anymore strength, not even to sit up. The driver squats down next to her and observes her. It’s a woman, with shocking white hair cut short, and topped with a black beret. She’s wearing an anorak coat over jeans and a blouse. On the collar of the blouse there’s a small gold cross.
Susan strains to see the stranger who is calmly whispering comforting words. She isn’t sure what just happened. Everything seems like a dream… or like when she was a child.
“Momma… Momma, sssssat you?”
“Hush, now. Let’s get you on your feet here,” the woman says, grabbing Susan’s coat at the front and guiding her upwards. She brushes her off, and harnesses her around the waist. Slowly she helps Susan get up into the SUV.
Once John’s eyes can find no more tears, and the humming coming from Kristen begins to feel strange to him, he looks up at her. She’s looking at his son while the infant slowly sucks the milk out of the small bottle, and absently humming the same tune over and over, almost as if she’s forgotten he is there.
This boy has a healthy appetite, John thinks, though he’s puzzled as to why Kristen’s not breast-feeding, something she’d told him she had wanted to do. And it occurs to him, looking at her in the cotton hospital gown, that her breasts don’t appear any larger. Not like Doc’s when she’d had Belle, or Isabella with Brady.
He pictures Marlena in his mind after Belle was born. She’d fallen asleep on the couch in the cabin with the baby lying across her belly and chest. She was glowing, cheeks flushed, and breasts swollen with milk. How angelic and earthy she’d looked. He remembers the ache in his heart watching them sleep, wanting so badly for things to be different. Sadly wishing he was Belle’s father and Marlena’s one and only. Then he remembers how she’d told him in no uncertain terms, when he’d told her he wished he was the baby’s father, that he shouldn’t even wish that. Not to even think that. He’d seen the pain in her eyes. The regrets. So, he knew he had to do what she’d said. He owed her that much.
At least some of that desire is reality, he thinks now. Belle is mine. I will always have that part of Marlena. But if only I’d known the truth that night while I watched the two most beautiful creatures on God’s green earth sleeping… I wouldn’t be here. I’d be with you, Doc.
Quickly he hastens to bury those painful thoughts and returns to the present: a place that only seems to bring him sparse happiness in an ocean of quiet despair.
He slouches down in the arm chair, exhausted. His eyes look cloudy and red-rimmed. Kristen’s head turns slowly from the baby to John. He looks at her, feeling a coldness emanating from those green eyes.
“Would you like to hold your son, John?”
Stefano didn’t waste a moment to find out the truth about Marlena. Now, as his imposing frame sits behind his desk in his hideaway mansion just outside Salem, he’s wiping away tears of relief and anger. He has learned she survived the attack. He slams his fist down upon the desk and lambasts, “Damn it! I should have been protecting you Marlena! Damn John Black for taking you from me! How could he let this happen to you!?” He reaches for his flask of Strega and takes a bitter swig.
I will NOT give up on you, Marlena. YOU will be with ME, where you will find love and protection from people who would do such a thing.
Holding his son, John kisses the baby’s sweet smelling cheek. He’s overjoyed to finally have his birth behind them. “How do you feel, Kristen? I’m sure you’re tired. Should we call the nurse to take the baby back to the nursery?”
Kristen perks up, “No! No, I feel great. Just a little worn out.” Once again John wonders. Isabella had been so tired after Brady’s birth that it seemed she was only awake for his feedings. Same with Marlena. ‘I guess,’ he thinks, ‘I shouldn’t be comparing Kristen to the other women in my life.’
John tucks the baby comfortably in the curve of his arm, and looks at Kristen who’s smiling at him. “I have something to tell you,” he says seriously, “It’s the reason I wasn’t here for you and the baby.”
Kristen tilts her head and presents a curious visage, “Oh? Well, John, I told you, it doesn’t matter. I forgive you. It’s over. Our baby is here, healthy and handsome just like his Daddy, so, please, don’t give it another thought,” she says, noting to herself not to go too far and apologize to him for her accusations of neglect.
“Well, you need to know,” he tells her. “It’s about Marlena. Just as I was coming here to see you, I heard she’d been attacked. Kristen… someone,” his voice breaks up, and he pictures Marlena lying in her hospital bed. “Someone tried to kill her.”
“Oh, my G*D!” she shouts. The baby flinches at the her harsh tones, but doesn’t wake. “Oooh, I’m sorry, did he wake?” John covers the baby’s head with his hand, gently caressing the smooth surface of the tiny forehead with his big thumb. He smiles sadly up at Kristen, shaking his head.
The sun rises slowly above the mounds of snow outside Marlena’s hospital room. The warm orange glow gently permeates the window, enters her room, falls slowly across her body, and finally rests at her head where it creates a corona around the delicate beauty of her face and golden shimmer of her hair. As the light remains there, warming her skin, her eyes flicker open but she can’t see anything through the blinding sunbeam.
“How’s everything in here?” the cheerful nurse says, greeting Kristen, John and the baby, as well as interrupting John as he was about to tell Kristen about Marlena’s attack. John turns his head, and looks at the woman. His expression changes from dejection to a polite smile.
“Oh, hi.” he reaches over the baby with his free hand and presents it to her.
She takes it in kind and says, “You must be our missing father.”
“Uhm, yes,” John says uncomfortably, though he knows she was’t trying to make him feel that way.
The nurse then directs her attention to Kristen, “How’re you doing, Hun.?”
Kristen smiles, “I’m just great. Couldn’t feel better, I mean, considering what giving birth does to you.”
“Good good,” she says. “The doctor’s going to want to check and make sure everything is normal so you can check out as soon as possible.” She looks and sees that the baby is sleeping soundly in John’s arms. She picks up the baby’s empty bottle and says she thinks the baby’s a good eater. Then she sees Kristen’s untouched platter of food, and scolds her politely.
“He’s a looker,” she says, stooping down to glimpse a peek at the baby. Then, with a mockingly flirtatious look, she says to John, “just like Daddy.”
John smiles bashfully, and tenderly kisses the newborn’s small head.
“He is, isn’t he?” Kristen adds. Then, thinking she’d like John’s full attention, not to mention some TLC, she asks the nurse to return the baby to the nursery because she needs some sleep. The woman obliges, gently removing him from John’s arms. He watches as the nurse wheels the cart with the baby out the door and around the corner.
Kristen scoots over in her bed and pats the mattress, inviting John to lay next to her. She has totally forgotten John was about to tell her what had happened to Marlena. When he doesn’t come by her, she notices he is staring at her with bewilderment behind tired eyes. It hits her then and she remembers. Oh boy, she thinks, I better let him tell me about Marlena’s death. He’s going to need my comforting.
“Kristen,” he starts, “Why didn’t you try to reach me on my cell phone?”
The question really throws her for a loop. She almost can’t compute it. She thinks over and over, ‘what did he just ask me?’
He asks the question again, “Kristen… when you couldn’t reach me, why didn’t you call me on my cell phone? You know I always have it with me. Especially because of important things like you going into labor, and needing to get a hold of me.” He sits up and puts his forearms on his thighs, and interlocks the fingers of his hands, twisting them one way and then the next. His eyes lock onto hers as he awaits her answer.
“Honey?”
“You know, John, “ she laughs, “that’s a really good question.”
“It is?”
“I don’t know why I didn’t do that. I guess,” she says slowly, beginning to put her thoughts together more concisely, “I just assumed you were coming. You’d said you were on your way. I believed you.” ‘Yeah, that’s it,’ she thinks. ‘Nice touch.’ Then she adds, “I just kept waiting, sweetheart. And the birth wasn’t easy….”
She can see his expression change from bewilderment to guilt. ‘Oh, guilt, you sweet baby,’ she thinks.
Then she looks about the room, registers that morning has come, and smiles with the feeling that it’s the beginning of a very wonderful day. Then, when she looks at John, hoping to share her delight with him, she slowly tucks her smile away and searches for an expression to match his own. One of depressing sadness, she notices. ‘Oh,’ she thinks, ‘it’s back to the *dead* again.’
As Marlena’s eyes slowly become acclimated to the bright sun aimed right at her face, she begins to realize everything is not okay. Besides the strong smell of medicine mixed with floor cleaner, the other clue that she’s in a hospital bed is the heavy feeling of her head and the continuous throbbing pain there. And, when she tries to sit up, a dagger of pain shoots through her from her stomach. She moans, and tries to relax hoping it will stop the pain. With no such luck, she breathes deeply, trying to get used to it. ‘If I’m in the hospital,’ she thinks, ‘where the heck is my morphine drip! Lordy!’
Her mind’s a bit cloudy. She searches for what might have caused her to be in this state, but nothing comes. She slowly sits up, feeling the shredding pain erupting like a volcano in her mid-section. Once upright, she sees more clearly where she is. A hospital room, empty of any other human being. The tears that had come involuntarily with the excruciating pain are dripping onto the sheet covering her. The low harsh light spreads throughout the room indicating to her that it’s very early morning. She looks down and sees the IV’s attached to her. She lowly removes them, suddenly desperate to leave the room. Then, trying to get down off the bed, she feels a tugging, so she removes the heart monitor. Now free, she slowly steps out into the cold hallway.
John, looking at Kristen, knows what he is about to tell her will upset her. She and Doc have been such close friends ever since Marlena’s possession. Kristen had worked so hard, with him, to save her. And now, he didn’t want to give her upsetting news, seeing how hurt she still was by his absence during the baby’s delivery. But, he had to tell her.
“Kristen,” he starts, “Marlena was attacked. Someone tried to kill her this morning in her office.” He reaches to touch her arm, when she grabs his hand, pulling him out of his seat.
“Oh, John! I’m so sorry. I know how much Marlena meant to you. She was a wonderful friend to me, too!”
She kisses his hand, and turns on a faucet of tears. John looks at her with puzzlement. He can’t speak because she continues to cry and carry on. He shushes her over and over, but she reaches for his face and presses her lips to his.
His lips fight to speak as she continues to suck, and fight for a deeper kiss. He yanks his hands free of hers and escapes the clutches of her puckering lips. He stands back a bit, “Kristen.”
She wipes her own saliva from her lips, feeling angry at his rejection.
“Kristen,” he says again, hoping to get her full attention, “I never said Marlena was dead!” ‘God,’ he thinks, ‘why would she just assume such a thing?’
“Oh, John! I’m so sorry,” she says, hardly able to contain her shock at his words. ‘Marlena didn’t die! Marlena’s alive? But, he doesn’t know….’
She relaxes a bit, thinking, ‘maybe she’s in a coma ?’ ‘Oh, yes! Let that be true!’
“John, please, it’s just… I’m so emotional because of the baby. Hormones, you know.”
He walks to the window, trying to get the sick feeling to leave his stomach from the mere idea of Kristen’s assumption of Marlena being dead. He looks at the sunrise and realizes he has no idea if she’s still in stable condition. He’s been here too long.
“Kristen, honey,” he says, “get some sleep, okay. I have to go check on things.” He starts to leave the room.
“John, John… please, you didn’t tell me.”
He waves his arm at her and says, “I’ll see you in a bit. Please. Rest.” Then he’s gone.
Kristen kicks off her blanket violently and swings her legs off the bed.
“God! Now what the hell am I going to do!”
To a total stranger, the sight of John Black walking swiftly through the halls of University Hospital might cause them to jump back and possibly duck behind something for fear he might have a gun. But to those who are familiar with the clenched fists, John Wayne-like wide gait, and intense look with optional arched brow, it’s nothing to be feared, unless you have crossed him.
The sound–something similar to a Clydesdale in a parade–of John’s boots hitting the hard floor of the hospital’s hallway echoes throughout the quiet early morning air. Few nurses, doctors, or patients are seen about. John, panicked by the sudden, irrational fear that Marlena could have died while he was gone, rounds the last corner on a journey to see for himself if she’s all right.
He stops short when he sees a figure at the end of the corridor. He squints and is horrified to see it’s Marlena. She’s stooped over, holding her stomach, swerving as she tries to move forward. He races to her, unable to stop as he slides past her. His boots are suddenly like ice skates. ‘Please,’ he thinks, ‘don’t fall again!’ His arms pop up like airplane wings. He balances and slows enough to stop, remaining upright.
“Thank you God! Marlena! What are you doing out of bed?” he calls as he makes his way to her again. He’s afraid to touch her, afraid he’ll hurt her. Then, when she looks up at him with a dopey looking smile on her face, and he sees her eyes roll back, he instinctively goes to catch her as she collapses into his waiting arms.
“Doc!” He shouts. “Help, someone! Please, help!”
He carries her toward her room and sees her guard who appears to have just awakened. John aims a furious look at him, then passes by him to lay Marlena back down on her bed. Once he has her placed safely on the bed, he looks worriedly at her unconscious face. Then he turns and walks just outside her door, where he sees the guard standing against the opposite wall, trying to look like a man on the job. John walks up to him, cocks his arm back, and punches the young man directly in the jaw. The guard reels and drops to the cold ground like an unstrung marionette.
Susan wakes in a room she doesn’t recognize. It’s small with a narrow, high window. She can’t see anything clearly. Everything’s blurry, but she knows this isn’t her apartment. As she begins to wake fully, she remembers the nightmare that was yesterday. “Oh, no… am I back in prison?”
“No, this isn’t a prison, dear,” a voice startles her. She looks and sees someone’s sitting next to her bed.
“Ohhhhh, you scared me,” she laughs nervously. “I can’t see. I lost my glasses.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. We’ll get you some specks real soon,” the person, a woman, says. She rises and stands next to Susan lying in bed. She holds out her hand to Susan.
Susan takes it in her mushy paw. “Howdy, my names’s Susan. Where am I?”
“You’re at St. Theresa’s Charity Hospital,” the woman tells her, as she pats Susan’s hand. “My name is Sister Jerome. But call me Jeri, okay?” Susan feels such relief. She lays back restfully, and closes her eyes.
“Now, dear, what were you saying about prison?”
Abe Carver stands outside Sami’s apartment door. He has knocked and now waits for her to answer. He’s hoping he isn’t interrupting her sleep, or Will’s, but he’s very eager to talk to her about what happened yesterday.
“Austin?” Sami says as she opens the door. Abe’s apologetic about not being Austin, and she invites him in.
“I called Grandma to see how Mom is, but she didn’t know. I guess it’s too early, huh? Can I get you something? Will’s still sleeping. He was up late. By the time Austin brought him home it was past his bedtime. I couldn’t bear to put him down. I guess I felt lonely… scared kind of… about Mom, you know. So I just let him stay up.”
“Sami,” Abe says.
She’s scurrying around, talking non-stop. Starting to make a pot of coffee, Abe can see she’s full of nervous energy. He finally catches her, wraps his arm around her shoulder, and walks her to the sofa. “I need to talk to you, Sami, okay?”
“Can I take your coat, Abe?”
“Sami, I only want you to answer a few questions. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.” He tries to reassure her with his bright smile. He can see her relax as she settles into the couch.
“Now, Sami,” he starts.
She leans towards him and whispers, “Abe, I had a nightmare about it last night, I think. I can’t remember it, but….”
Abe shakes his head, “Did you see anything or anyone before you found your mother?”
“I don’t think so. Just the usual hospital people, you know, nurses and stuff.”
“I want you to go back, in your mind, to before you entered the hospital. Maybe before that. Start when you woke up yesterday. What did you do first? Walk me through it.” Abe takes her hand, hoping to help her relax and concentrate.
“Abe, I don’t know. Geez, I can never remember what I ate for breakfast,” she laughs. Part of her, she knows, just plain doesn’t want to remember seeing her mother half dead, bleeding….
“Well?” John asks, sitting in the chair next to Marlena’s bed, looking up at Mike who’s on the opposite side of the bed. Mike has finished hooking Marlena back up to the monitors and IV’s. He’s given her something for the pain, and now it appears she’s back at sleeping. He smiles at John.
“She’ll be okay… if,” he warns, “she doesn’t try that stunt again.”
John sighs, closes his eyes heavily, and presses his lips into Marlena’s palm. Mike, who has seen this too many times, sighs himself.
“I’ll be back to check on her in awhile. You, my friend,” he says wearily, “need some sleep.”
John feels Mike’s hand on his shoulder, and he nods in reply, but doesn’t look up. He listens to Mike leaving, and the door shutting, then opens his eyes. He flinches, startled to see Marlena looking at him. He bursts into simultaneous tears and laughter. Her eyes crinkle upwards as she slowly smiles painfully.
“Doc,” he says tenderly, lovingly.
“John,” she replies. The sound of her voice grabs his gut as his emotions flood his handsome face.
“Don’t talk,” he advises, though he desperately wants to ask her who it was that did this. He presses his hand tentatively against her cheek, then overwhelmed with relief and joy, he kisses her lips, not just sweetly and quickly, but with urgency, lingering for long moments, leaving Marlena’s injured head spinning.
Susan sits up in bed, groaning with pain, as she contemplates the nun’s curiosity about what she’d said about being in prison. She fights back and forth with herself about whether to confess, or make up a lie. She is a Catholic, from Louisiana, so she knows what a confession means towards her redemption. She wants to be forgiven for all her sins, and she has even asked for it, years and years ago, while in jail, from a visiting priest. ‘But,’ she thinks, ‘you can never have enough forgiveness, right?’
She looks meekly towards the tough-as-nails appearing nun, “Sister?”
“Yes, Susan?”
“Does anything I say to you, remain just with you? You know, confida…
confidentiality… ur somethin’?
Sister Jeri smiles, “Well, certainly. Anything you say to me will be between the two of us. I hope you feel you can open up to me. I want to help you.” She makes herself comfortable in the chair beside Susan’s bed, crosses her legs, and pulls a rosary out of her pocket and wraps it around her index finger.
When their kiss breaks, John feels paralyzed by his overwhelming love for Marlena. Then, it occurs to him that he took the kiss too far, but when he looks at her he sees her beautiful lips curve into a smile. A smile that breaks his heart, knowing what she has been through. He smiles back at her. Then they laugh together, breaking the tension. It was just a kiss to her, he reassures himself; nothing more.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
She has difficulty clearing her throat, so he gets some water. He holds the straw, aiming it at her mouth. She swallows half the glass’ contents. And, after a bit she says, “What happened?” in a raspy whisper.
He sees the confusion in her eyes. This isn’t what he wanted her to say, not at all. He sweeps his hand across her forehead and down her cheek. “You don’t remember?”
“No,” she says, and he can see fear begin to covet her eyes.
“Honey? It’s real important for you to try to remember, okay?”
“John, I’ve been trying. I can’t… please,” she breathes the words, pleading.
John’s finger goes to her lips, pressing down gently on them to quiet her. He feels anger swelling inside. He wants desperately to know who stabbed her so violently.
“Okay, okay… shhhh.” He takes her hand, and squeezes. “Marlena….” he begins, hesitating, though unable to avoid her eyes, “someone tried to kill you yesterday morning. Whoever did it, hit you over the head and stabbed you. Can you remember? Do you remember who came into your office? We didn’t find many clues, so you’ve gotta remember.” He watches her eyes as they search, moving back and forth like beacons aiming into the dark. And when it appears she can find no answer, she starts to cry, and turns her focus on him, looking desperately for some answers there.
Abe pats Sami’s hand, and encourages her to go back to the day before, in her mind, to when she was going to see Marlena at the hospital. She closes her eyes and begins to describe her journey. The smelly bus ride, the snow falling, then the slushy snow getting into her boots and soaking her feet.
“Good, Sami, you’re doing great. Now, go into the hospital. What do you see right as you enter? Do you see anyone?”
Abe can see her concentrate as her eyebrows scrunch together.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Um, I see a guy walking past me. I thinks he said ‘hi’ to me. But I don’t think I responded. I go to the elevators right away. I’m kinda in a hurry to see Mom.” She opens her eyes and looks at Abe. Her shoulders drop, her eyes cast upwards, and she sighs.
“What is it Sami?” Abe asks, hoping she remembered seeing something important.
“Abe,” she says, “please don’t tell anyone, especially Mom, but I was going there… I went to see Mom to get money from her. That’s awful, isn’t it? I mean, I feel really bad about that now.”
“Sami, look don’t worry about that okay? What’s important now is not why you went to see her. I need you to remember what you saw before you found her.”
“Yeah, I know… okay. Let me think.” She again closes her eyes. “Oh, right, I’m at the elevators. I’m waiting, and waiting. Then the door opens so I get in and I push the buttons. I’m alone in the elevator. Then the door opens and I get out. I go to see… no…. No!”
“What? What is it, Sami?” Abe leans forward.
Sami’s big blue eyes pop open, “I saw *Kristen* when the door opened. Yeah… she was right in my face!”
Abe tilts his head questioningly. “Kristen DiMera?”
“Uh huh. *Kristen.*” Sami closes her eyes, and once again visualizes the doors opening and revealing Kristen standing dead center, eyes wide, looking right into her.
Kristen paces back and forth in her hospital room. She had turned on the television to try to avoid the recurring thought that was invading her brain. But there’d been an annoying show on, a soap opera, which kept showing a woman alone in a dark room, talking to herself, so she’d taken the remote and turned it off. So, now, as she paces, the thought comes back, over and over. ‘I have to stop Marlena. I have to do it AGAIN!’ She knew it would be only a matter of time before Marlena told John that it had been her. ‘Oh, my god,’ she thinks, ‘I tried to kill a person.’ It’s as though it had never dawned on her what it was she’d done yesterday. But then, quickly, she talks herself out of the conscience sneaking in, threatening her survival.
‘Nope,’ she thinks, ‘it was Marlena. Not just any person. Marlena!… and it was all her fault. Everything!’ She sits down on the edge of the bed, crosses her ankles, and thinks, ‘I am not about to let Marlena Evans destroy my happy life with John and our beautiful baby!’
As she sits there, swinging her legs, her attention turns to a magazine laying upside down on the dresser. There is an ad for vodka. What I wouldn’t give for a shot of that, she thinks, unable to remember the last time anyone let her have alcohol.
Marlena feels helpless. Her memory is blank. There’s nothing there to retrieve. “It’s a locked door,” she tells John.
She sees he’s upset, though not with her. And when he wipes away her tears, it only makes her cry more.
“Marlena, do you remember yesterday morning right when you woke up?”
“No,” she says, feeling exhausted. She can remember last week, last month…. The frustration mounts.
She turns onto her side, away from him, and pulls her hand out of his. She buries her face in the pillow, allowing the tears to come in bursts. She feels John sit down on the bed, and his hand moving back and forth on her arm until he once again takes her hand in his large paw.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard. But, Marlena? I’m going to tell you something… well, something I told you yesterday. Maybe if you hear it again, you’ll remember more,” he says softly. This brings her out of her crying spell. She turns over slowly to avoid pain, and looks up at John.
“What is it?”
“Yesterday morning, I saw Stefano in the garden. I didn’t catch him, but now at least I know he’s alive.”
“Stefano’s alive? He’s alive….” she says slowly, letting the information sink in. Somehow this news isn’t upsetting to her.
“Doc?”
She nods, “Yes. Of course, he’s alive.”
He brightens, “You remember me telling you?”
“Oh, yes….” She sits up slightly, letting the memory fill her head. She sees John, chest bare, dripping wet, wearing a towel around his waist, looking down at her. She remembers him sitting by her the way he is now… looking intense and brutally handsome.
John looks searchingly into Marlena’s eyes. She’s looking at him, but it’s more like she’s peering into him, past the moment. She’s remembering, and he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly, willing her memory to give them the answer.
“Marlena, what do you remember?”
She pulls out of the memory flying through her head, and looks at John, who is staring at her with expectation written all over his face.
“Well,” she begins, “I remember when you told me you saw Stefano. I remember how upset you were… well, me too.” She smiles at him. Then a frightening thought races through her mind. “John? Was it him? Did Stefano try to kill me?!”
John blinks, “I don’t know. You don’t remember? You don’t know who did this?”
“No,” she says slowly. She sees disappointment in his tired eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember it happening. All I can remember is when you told me. We were in the living room, and you told me he was alive. You saw him. It couldn’t have been him, could it? He wouldn’t do something like this.”
John gives her hand back, and stands up. He walks to the window and looks out. “I can’t see that bastard doing something so… it’s not his style is it Doc? He’s obsessed with you. He *loves* you… in his sick twisted way. Unless he somehow felt if he couldn’t have you – I don’t know, it just doesn’t sound like something the old man would do. I can’t figure it out, Doc.” He turns to look at her, and sees she’s lying back, looking straight up at the ceiling. ‘She’ll remember,’ he thinks.
“John,” Marlena says softly. He walks back to her and sits down, putting his elbows on her bed. She turns onto her side so her face is mere inches from his. They smile at each other, saying nothing for almost a minute.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Doc,” John says finally. “This has been one hell of a wake up call for me.”
“What do you mean?”
He wants to tell her exactly what he means, but knows that’s impossible.
“Well, I don’t ever want to lose you, Marlena. Never. You are so important to me. I think you know….”
“Yes,” she says, knowing more than he realizes. ‘Kristen will have her baby any day now,’ she thinks, ‘then I can tell you that it’s okay for you to admit your love to me. We’ll both be free to speak the truth.’
Kristen wishes she could call Stefano for help, but knows he must never find out her predicament. She laughs at that thought. ‘What would he do if he found out what I did to Marlena?’ Another, even more frightening question occurs to her. What if Marlena is telling John right at this moment that she was faking the pregnancy, and that she’d been the one that…? Panic rises in her, making her feel like she’s drowning. She turns, and kicks the wastebasket clear into the hallway, where someone picks it up swiftly as it careens into his path.
Sister Jerome listens intently to the mysterious woman’s *unbelievable* story. In fact, she’s wondering if it is just a *story*. Something so horrendous has never come her way before, and she has seen a lot in her work at the hospital.
“So, I had to kill him,” Susan says, eyes wide, staring at the quiet nun. She can see the nun is shocked. But Susan knows it’s the truth. She lived it. It was how she came to be imprisoned. All those terrifying years living on her parent’s farm, being treated like a dog. Beat up and molested by her vicious step-father. Then being sold to a salesman who drove up one day, and how he violated her and threw her out of his moving car. Then finding her way home somehow and having her step-father tie her to the lean-to where she almost died of starvation. She told of how he would walk right by her and go feed the pigs and chickens. Not even look at her laying in the mud screaming at him for help.
Finally her mother let her go, cleaned her up, and fed her. Only for her step-father to give her to the preacher’s son, who then married her. They had a daughter, but he kicked her out soon after, keeping the child. So, like always, she went home, where her step-father again tortured and molested her, and she finally escaped, realizing that she would never find any kind of love there. Then she went back to her husband, to try to get her baby. He told her the baby had died just days before. Distraught, she started to attack him, and when he couldn’t get her to leave, he tried to strangle her in their confrontation. Then, when she got away, with him on her trail, threatening her, she found his rifle in the garage, and shot him as he stood in the doorway yelling at her. Then she burned down his house as well.
“So you understand… he was gonna kill me. I had no choice. But, you see Sister, the whole thing got even worse.”
“Worse?”
Susan leans towards her confessor, and with anguish in her eyes, says, “I found out later, when they arrested me, that he’d been lying to me. My baby wasn’t dead. My baby was just sleepin’….”
“Oh, dear Lord, no….”
Susan shakes her head. “Yup. I killed my baby girl.”
Stefano looks over his CD collection, and chooses something serene. His head is pounding and his stomach is knotted. All he can think about is Marlena. He cannot get into the hospital to see her and it’s killing him. He spent the night drinking and planning. Planning and drinking.
The puzzle of who tried to kill Marlena has taken its toll. And he has had terrible thoughts about who that could be. Thoughts he won’t entertain. Instead, he thinks, he’ll concentrate on making things right.
He closes the CD player, turns the volume up, and soaks in the soft singing of the violins. ‘Marlena, Marlena, Marlena’, he says over and over, with the sound of the music.
“Marlena… soon your soft, sweet lips will be kissing my lips, in the cool tropical breeze. Paradise awaits you.”
He strolls over to his desk and settles himself into the large leather back chair. Excitement replaces the confusion, as he jots something down. Speaking to his invisible obsession, he says, “I will do things the right way this time. It was a fatal mistake allowing John to find you, Marlena.”
Marlena’s food tray arrives and John agrees to help her eat something. He helps her to sit up, and moves himself onto the bed beside her, and glides the table with her tray close so he can reach the food.
She has allowed herself to stop worrying about everything as she settles back into the pile of pillows behind her back. The medication is working, so the pain has been ameliorated and she’s feeling the soothing effect of the morphine. And having John so close, adds to her pleasure. She can’t remember feeling so relaxed in a long, long time.
“Ooookay, pretty lady, open wide.” John spoons some Jell-O into her mouth. She laughs inside as he opens his mouth in unison with her, like he always does when he feeds something to Belle.
“Mmmm, strawberry, my favorite,” she says as she waits for his next spoonful. John eyes her with a knowing and bashful look, as she lets out a laugh. Then she starts to giggle uncontrollably, as she watches him struggling to hold the spoon still as he begins to laugh as well.
“Marlena!” He begs her. The spoon is an inch from her mouth, but she can’t stop laughing long enough to allow the red jiggling blob to enter. John loses his ability to control the spoon and watches as the piece of Jell-O jumps from it, bouncing off Marlena’s chest and tumbling down behind her, under the sheet that covers her.
“Now look what you made me do!” He laughs and proceeds to go in search of the stuff. Marlena’s lost all control, as she lays her head back on the pillow letting out a wild, rolling laugh. She can feel his hand probing beneath her, his fingers dancing along her lower back, buttocks and thigh. This makes her scream with laughter.
“Where the hell’d it go?” he yells, watching in delight as Marlena’s face sparkles with joy. Then, he feels the slippery cold chunk of Jell-O under her leg. The more he tries to grab it the further it travels, jumping from his warm fingers each time he has it.
“Oooo, hee hee hee….”
“Hold still, girl!” His body completely stretched now across her leg, and his right arm all the way under her, chasing the chuck of mostly *melted* Jell-O now. “GOT IT!” he yells, as he holds it where he located it, in a jumble of material from her gown, right between her legs at the knees.
“No, I got YOU!” Marlena laughs, as she clamps her legs together, capturing his hand. He is completely on top of her now, and his face is right below her breast. She looks at his eyes as they strain to peer up at her. ‘What beautiful eyes you have John Black,’ she thinks, as her laughter subsides.
“Doc….” he whispers, “it’s so good to see you laugh again.”
They stare at each other for a long moment, both enjoying the physical closeness, then she lets him free. She remembers how, long ago, when she was in a similar, rather uncomfortable bed, having survived a coma, he’d made love to her.
Now, instinctively she reaches for his head, and sighing, she presses it against her body. Before he can free his arm, she gently combs his hair with her fingers, then cups her hand along his cheek holding him there for a second.
“Didn’t hurt you did I?” He asks, rising and bringing his arm ever so gently out from under her.
“No,” she says, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, and longing to keep him beside her. Sadly, Marlena watches him adjust his clothing and clean his hand of the red liquid. I love you, John, she thinks. I love you more than I ever have. *Ever*.
Suddenly, looking at his face, she notices he’s looking very seriously at her.
“You okay, Doc?”
She realizes she has begun to cry. This time tears of sadness.
Dr. Robbins, holding the hospital wastebasket in his hands, enters Kristen’s room and sets it down against the wall. “Kristen? Are you okay?”
She turns to see him walking towards her, “Uhhhhhh, Dr. Robbins! I’m sorry!” She quickly pulls her robe around her and slides into bed.
“Something wrong?”
“No,” she says looking demure, and trying to sound pleasant.
“Why,” he asks, “did you throw your wastebasket into the hallway?”
‘How can I work this guy?’ she thinks. ‘He’s too bright. I hate that.’ She draws her sheets up to her mouth, and pouting at him, she says, “It’s John. His friend Marlena was hurt, and he’s taking it very hard. I’m worried about him. He hasn’t slept.”
Dr. Robbins, nods in sympathy, “Yes, I’ve been by to see her. Just terrible what happened, don’t you think? John was there. He’s very concerned about her, as we all are. But, you know, I think she’ll be fine. Now, you, on the other hand….”
“What?” she looks harshly at him.
“Well, I was just coming by to check on you. How are you feeling? Any bleeding? Problems urinating? Hemorrhoids? Has the swelling gone down?”
“No! Oh, no, Doctor…. I’m just fine,” she says, alarmed as he reaches towards her abdomen. “When can I leave?”
He laughs uncomfortably, taken off guard by her lack of concern about her physical condition. “Well, as soon as you like actually. If you want, I can examine you now. I’ll have a nurse come in to bring you down to the exam room. Or I can do it right here.”
“No!” she interrupts. She notices him eyeing her somewhat curiously. ‘He can’t examine me,’ she frets. ‘There’s no way I can fool an obstetrician. I have to get out of this hospital before I end up getting found out.’
“Why not, Kristen? You said you wanted to leave.” He approaches her with concern on his face, and takes her wrist. She immediately yanks it back. He grimaces at her.
“Doctor, please… I need to get some sleep. Really, I just need to sleep. I’m sorry, but would you mind?”
“No, of course not.” He thinks to himself, ‘this is the last time I go out of my way for a friend’, thinking he was extending a favor on behalf of Kristen’s good friend Dr. Evans, by dropping in on her. ‘What an unpleasant person,’ he thinks.
He exits her room, and Kristen sighs deeply. She reaches for the phone. ‘As soon as I take care of Marlena, Stefano will get me out of this insipid hospital, and I’ll be safe at home with my baby, and John.’
John brings a box of Kleenex to Marlena. He doesn’t know why she’s crying just moments after laughing like a hyena. All he knows is that her laughter had made him feel so happy. Incredibly happy… for a moment. Now he feels like all he wants to do is lay his tired body next to hers on that bed again and fall asleep holding her. Thinking this, and knowing he can’t do that, he has to turn away from her or else let her see him break up. He goes to the window, and looks out for a second before closing his eyes and letting some defeated tears fall.
As he tries, but can’t, to hold back his overwhelming sadness and just plain exhaustion, he quickly leaves her room, telling her he’ll be right back. He walks stridently down the hall, and into the stairwell, where he grabs the railing and drops down onto the cement steps. Weak with nauseating, gut-ripping emotions, he openly cries into the sleeve of his shirt, letting all the muscles in his body give in to the act.
When he’s finished, he wipes at his face and smells the sweet strawberry scent still lingering on his hand from the Jell-O. He buries his face in his hands and yells her name. It echos up and down in the hollow chamber.
After a time, John exorcizes the grief that has seized him, by letting a deep sigh exit his lungs. He shakes his limbs and rises to leave. ‘I have got to stop doing this to myself,’ he thinks, ‘and to Marlena.’
As he’s walking back toward her room, the cell phone in his pocket rings.
“John Black.”
“John,” Abe says.
“Abe! Listen, I talked to Marlena but she can’t remember anything about the attack. Did YOU find out anything?” He stops before getting to Marlena’s room as he listens to Abe’s response.
“John, I need you to come to the station. I want you here when I take Sami’s deposition.”
“Sami saw something! Great. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He slips the phone back into his pocket and feels the blood start pumping again, but he stands paralyzed in the hallway. He doesn’t know who he should see first before he leaves: Kristen or Marlena? Then he remembers he wants to tell Marlena about the baby. ‘How could I have forgotten to tell her?’ he wonders, guilt once again entering his consciousness.
Marlena lays in her bed, wondering why John left so suddenly. Her hand moves over her stomach and feels the bandages covering the tender space where John told her she’d be stabbed. Stabbed! ‘Why can’t I *remember?*’she asks herself, angrily. The tension builds up in her as she strains to remember what happened after the point in time when John told her about Stefano.
“Shoot!” she blurts out, just as John comes through the door. He rushes to her. The sound of his boots hitting the floor knocks her from her thoughts as she looks up to see him.
“Doc, are you all right?”
“NO!”
“What is it? Should I get Mike?”
“No, no. I’m sorry. It’s nothing like that. I was just really upset because I can’t remember who did this to me.” She looks at him, and sees his eyes are red and puffy. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “Listen, Doc, you need to get some sleep, honey. I have to go somewhere, but I need to tell you some great news first.”
“Great news? Oh my, what is it?”
“Kristen had the baby! He’s healthy and beautiful. I’ll take you down to the nursery later if you’re up to it. Oh, I don’t know though. Kristen wants to leave soon. She might be gone before you’re well enough to get into a wheelchair.”
“Kristen had the baby? When?”
“Yesterday. But, hey, listen, I have to get going.” He approaches her to kiss her forehead, but she stops him with her hand flat against his chest.
‘This is it,’ she thinks. ‘The baby is here. I don’t have to watch him suffer any more. I can tell him everything!’
Stefano marches across the drive. He’s dressed in the best Italian designer clothes, from his tie to his shoes. He’s a man on a mission. A mission of misguided obsession, but obsession nonetheless. He has made his plans; quickly and masterfully executed with the critical attention to detail reserved only for Marlena.
As he settles into the driver’s seat of his silver Jaguar sedan, he starts to whistle calmly, determinedly. Then he pictures the lovely object of his desire in his mind. She remains there as he drives across the miles towards where he will see her again, in the flesh.
John presses her hand to his chest. She can feel the pounding of his heart against her palm.
“Wait,” she says. “I have to tell you something.”
John smiles at her. “Marlena, Abe called. He’s got something on who did this. Can we talk later? I don’t want to leave you, but I think you’ll be okay now. I hired a new guard.” She sighs, and thinks, ‘Okay, why not? I can wait. I’ve waited this long already.’
He places her hand against his lips and kisses it hard, making a smacking noise. “You, lady, are amazing! I’ll see you soon.”
“Um, John?” she calls, as he’s backing out of the room, smiling at her sweetly.
“Yep?”
“I was wondering if you could do me a big favor?”
“*Anything*… For *you*, anything.”
“Could you swing by the house and pack a suitcase for me? Just the basics, but I’d like to get out of this thing… melted Jello-O and all,” she says, winking at him. “I’d ask Caroline, but I’m sure she has her hands full of the children now, am I right?”
“That’s a fact. No problem. Consider it done. See you later.”
“Bye. Later.”
After he’s gone, she lifts her hand to cover her mouth as a mixture of happiness and sadness rise up in her.
John walks with a slight spring in his step as he heads toward the maternity ward. Inside Kristen’s room, he finds his jacket, but no Kristen. He puts the coat on, and peeks in the bath, “Kristen? Kristen? Hey! Are you… Ahhhhhhhh!”
Kristen has grabbed his butt with her hands, giving John a jolt and almost a heart attack. He spins around and she grabs him around the neck and jumps at him. Without warning she’s kissing him full-mouthed. He grips her shoulders and pulls her away as quickly as he can, trying to cover his reaction with a laugh.
“Heeeey! You scared me! Where were you?”
She pokes her finger into his chest and with a smirky grin says, “That’s for me to know and you to find out, lover-boy!”
“Oh, I see.”
“Mmmmm. You smell sweet, who ya been kissin’?” she teases. John ignores the comment, and walks around her. She reaches out for him as he moves by, but can’t catch him as he goes to stand in the doorway.
“Baby, I’m heading home for something, want me to bring you anything?”
“Well, yes, Babe. How about some of your favorites?”
John tilts his head and smiles, “Now, what would you be talking about?”
“I hope you don’t need an answer to that… Oh, John I can’t wait to make love to you again! It’s been torture, these long months without you.” She walks up to him and jams her arms through his arms and anchors them onto his back, yanking him to her. He holds her shoulders and looks down at her lustful eyes.
“I know, honey. It *has* been a long time. But, I’m sure you’re tired aren’t you?”
“What I am is madly in love with you, you gorgeous man! You know what you do to me John,” she says, and growls, biting his bare chest where his shirt opens.
He can’t believe her friskiness. She should be tired. ‘Shouldn’t she be sleeping?’ he wonders.
He pries her away as gently as he can, but she has such a grip on him, that he ends up almost causing her to stumble backwards out of his control. He holds onto her and says, “Sorry, Kristen. I have to go. Now, what do you *really* want me to bring you from the house?”
She looks at him disappointedly. “Nothing. I’m getting out of here tonight. You’re springing me from this joint tonight, baby!”
John gulps. He steps back, reminded of another time. A time when he’d said the same thing. To Marlena.
“Tonight? Are you sure, Kristen? Maybe you need to get some rest. We can afford for you to stay and get some R&R. Wouldn’t you like that, hmm?”
She sits down on the bed, “No, frankly. I can get rest in my own home. This place disgusts me. I feel like I’m in prison. I want to be home with you and our baby.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll be back,” he says, and blows her a kiss and she pretends to catch it. He strides down the hall, feeling that same old twinge of guilt for being short with Kristen, yet happy as hell to be away from her constant pawing.
Kristen gets dressed in the outfit she’d arrived in. She thinks about John’s visit moments ago, and she can’t believe her good fortune once again. ‘He doesn’t know a thing,’ she thinks giddily. ‘Marlena didn’t tell him anything! Why didn’t I ask him about her?’ she asks herself. ‘I guess I’ll have to visit her myself. To see for myself what’s going on with her. I still have time. I still have time!’
Stefano said he would have a car outside for her in an hour. She couldn’t afford to wait for John to take her home.
Her heart is pounding wildly as she thinks about all she has to do.
John’s head is racing. He feels like a hamster on a wheel. He thinks about the baby, and wants to see him again, but he’s heading over to the police station where he desperately hopes to hear that Sami saw the perpetrator. Then there’s Marlena, who always seems to be in his thoughts. He’s so confused about her. It seemed like old times with her today. It almost seemed like she looked at him that *way*. Like she loved him more than as a friend. The way she looked at him when they were married. The way she had accepted his kiss. The way she had held his head. The way they laughed together.
Instead of accepting the notion, he rationalizes her actions as ones of nostalgia. Being so close to dying can make you long for happier times. He knew that better than anyone. And so many of their times together had been full of such happiness.
‘It’s almost dinner time,’ he thinks, looking at the sky and seeing the sun heading for the horizon. His eyes burn with fatigue. He picks up his car phone and dials Abe.
Reaching him, he says, “Abraham, I’m sorry I’m not there yet. Don’t start without me, I’m almost there.”
“Don’t worry, John. We’ve only been waiting a bit. I ordered something from the deli and Sami and I are having a little bite to eat. We’ll be here,” Abe mumbles, his mouth obviously full of food.
“Tell me, Abe, what does my girl know?” He says, voice full of anticipation.
“Buddy, just get your butt over here,” Abe says and the line goes dead. John shakes his head in frustration.
The doctor tells Susan that she needs rest. He gives her medication to stop the bleeding. He pats her shoulder and wishes her well. She looks over at Sister Jerome as the man exits the room, and gives her a quizzical glare.
“Sister, I didn’t understand a word he said,” she admits.
“Honey, don’t worry. He’s only been in this country for three days. He can’t understand much of what we say either. All in good time. Now, back to you. We need to discuss some things. Don’t we?” She sits back down in her chair beside the bed.
“Sister, what should I do? I really want to do what’s right and all, but I don’t want to go back there. I’ll just die.”
“I understand. But, before we talk about that, I want to know where your baby is. That’s my first concern. You’ve just given birth, and you have no baby with you. I need for you to tell me about that. Now,” she demands with a stern but understanding voice. Susan sits up, and grips the sheets in her hand raising them to her face where she tries to hide.
The nun gently retrieves the material and tugs at Susan’s chin, forcing her to look directly into her eyes. “Tell me? Please?”
Susan turns away, slamming her eyes shut in shame. “I’ve done the worst thing a momma can do. I’m a horrible person. All I know how to do is bad things. You are gonna think I am sooooo bad!”
“Now, now, now… You don’t know any such thing about me. Look at me.”
Susan slowly complies. She sees a smiling face. A trusting woman. But she has trusted before. She begins her tale, hoping the nun will not hit her.
A mild headache prevents Stefano from feeling completely in control, but mostly he breathes with the confidence a king possesses–or the devil himself.
He makes calls to his cohorts, grilling them on their particular assignments. Going over and over with them how important their success will mean. They aren’t fooled into thinking he means anything but life-threatening consequences if failure occurs. No, Stefano knows how to communicate his intentions without having to spell it out.
He reflects on his plan, making mental notes to himself. He tells himself that he has no choice but to do it his way. The unforgiving way. It is the only way that has ever worked in the past. Back when youth gave him the cockiness to go at things full force. To take all and leave nothing. His most recent failures have convinced him of this.
He once again reaches in his pocket for the velvet box. Holding onto the steering wheel of his car with one hand and with his thumb and index finger of the other he opens the box. A wide smile spreads slowly across his face as the object, a diamond ring with a stone the size of a shelled peanut, captures the sunset’s beautiful deep vermillion glow in its face.
Marlena’s browsing through some magazines that the candy-striper left for her. She can’t concentrate on anything substantive, so she just looks at a page, then turns to the next. She keeps trying to remember who attacked her. Then she wonders what John is learning from Abe. Then she has to lay the magazine down when she begins to toil over the task of telling John about all of the horrible things Kristen has done to them. She dreads the pain he’ll have to bear. He has had too much pain in his life. She just wants to get past this nightmare and see him have a little peace. A little happiness. Herself as well. Happiness they can both give each other.
As she tries to fall asleep, so the time will pass quickly while John is away, her mind lingers on the person whom she dislikes as much as Stefano at this time. His daughter. She remembers how they’d been somewhat friends. She had at one time wanted John to be happy with Kristen. ‘I must have seen good in her then,’ she considers. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted John to be with someone I mistrusted in any way. I liked her. I think I *did*,’ she tells herself, trying hard to remember having those feelings toward Kristen.
Then she thinks of her most recent memories of Kristen. She thinks of the hateful glares and mean-spirited words. The schemes, deceptions, and manipulations of herself and John. ‘How much she hates me,’ she thinks, shivering. Then, everything connects. Her blood goes cold. Her stomach drops a floor. She exhales sharply, and turns her aching head.
“Oh, my God,” she says. “ I think I know!” She opens her eyes.
“Hello, Marlena….”
Abe Carver’s cleaning out the last bit of salad from a plastic container when John flies through the door. He notices Sami’s absence and questions his friend. Abe looks up from his food and motions for John to have a seat. He complies, sitting down and crossing his legs. He no longer feels tired. He is into a stage of exhaustion where his body is lying to him, telling him he has more energy than a man can possibly have, so he stands again just seconds after sitting. Abe on the other hand looks at John and wonders when he last slept or showered. He knows when John is out of control and in trouble. He doesn’t shave or sleep or eat. He offers John some food, but is turned down.
“Sami just stepped out to the restroom, John,” Abe says. He dumps his empty containers into the trash as John flips through a calendar on the wall. He feels an undeniable sense of urgency as he turns and looks at Abe.
“Tell me, Abraham.” He begs, knowing Abe will not say a word until Sami comes in.
“You look tired, buddy. Hold on a minute, she’ll be right back. Please, sit down.” Abe advises as he reaches in a desk drawer and retrieves some forms, then a tape recorder. He places a blank tape in the machine and places it on top of his desk, dead center. Then he rests his arms on the desk, hands clasped together, on either side of the recorder.
“So, how is Kristen? The baby?”
John takes in a deep breath. He sits down, and smiles, “Oh, the baby’s beautiful, Abe, and healthy. Just perfect, in fact. Kristen’s doing great. She wants to leave the hospital tonight if you can believe that. Talk about a quick recovery… she’s just amazing,” he says, standing again. He notices Abe’s not smiling, but has a grim, faraway look on his face. This worries him.
“Good. That’s good,” Abe says absently, twiddling his thumbs.
“Abraham, what is it?” John asks. “What did she see?” Instead of getting an answer, he sees Abe look towards the door, as Sami enters the room.
John goes to her immediately, hugging her. He’s disappointed when he feels that same cold stiffness he’s been getting from her since she’d found out about the affair. He’d hoped things might have changed between them… especially after what they’d both been through. But, not getting that change in temperature, he releases her and she plunks down on the chair opposite his own, without saying a word.
“Sami?” John says bleakly. He turns towards Abe, who motions John towards the empty chair.
The door opens again, as John sits down. It’s someone he’s never seen before. He rises again, as Abe greets the stranger, introducing her to Sami and John.
“This is our lead investigator on Marlena’s case, Detective Teri Underwood,” he says as the tall brunette reaches for John’s hand and then Sami’s. John gives Abe a quizzical look. Abe ignores him, and asks John to grab the chair behind him for Ms. Underwood. As he does, Abe begins to record Sami’s account of her visit to the hospital.
Once again, Sister Jerome feels shock and horror at the words coming from Susan’s mouth. This story explains why she never heard about a prisoner escape in the news. She couldn’t comprehend how this kind of thing can happen in this day and age. What kind of person can arrange to get someone released from prison and used in this way? But then she heard the name Stefano DiMera fall from Susan’s mouth and she understood.
She walks around to the window and closes the blinds, having noticed the sun is no longer around to give light. Then, as Susan describes the way Kristen had made her get out of bed and leave the hospital just a few hours after giving birth, the nun switches on a lamp sitting next to the bed. “Then, Stefano DiMera broke his promise to me, and brought me back to the prison. Oh, he is so mean, Sister Jeri! He tries to act like he’s your friend, and makes you believe he’ll help you, but now I know better. He’s mean!” she cries.
“I’ve read about Stefano DiMera, Susan, and you’re right.”
“I am?”
“He would sell his granny, Dear,” Jeri says, crossing her arms, eyes fixed on the crucifix above Susan’s bed. “Now, is your baby still at University Hospital?”
“Well, Kristen might have taken him home. I don’t right know.” Susan watches as the woman smiles down at her while reaching for the phone.
John looks with disbelief at Sami. He stands and tells her to repeat what she’s just said. Abe orders John to sit back down, and when he doesn’t, and Sami looks bewildered as to whether she should answer John’s question, he angrily shuts off the tape recorder.
“John, please don’t interrupt! I know this is not what you expected….”Abe says.
“Not what I expected? That’s an understatement,” he growls towards Abe. Then, turning back to Sami, who is trying to look unaffected, he pleads with her, “Please, Sami. What you just said is wrong. Say you’re wrong.” Then he turns his attention back to Abe when he waits and gets no response from Sami. “You knew this is what she was going to say? And you’re taking it seriously? Enough to take a deposition? This is crazy, not to mention, a waste of time,” he says finally, and starts to leave the office. “I can’t believe this!” he mutters.
“Mr. Black!”
John turns abruptly at the sound of the investigator’s loud command.
“I think you better sit down, and listen.”
“Oh, really,” he says to the woman. “I don’t need to waste my time with some nonsense about Sami seeing Kristen at the hospital.” Then, thinking about what he’s just said, he walks towards Sami. “Tell me, Sami, why are you saying this? Why? Is it some kind of retribution?”
“No, John. It’s the truth!”
His face shows both hurt and anger as he looks at her. “Why would you make up a lie like this? Is this another game? You want to hurt me, like I hurt you? Is that it, Sami?” He reaches for her shoulders, and seeing the tears begin to well up in her eyes, along with the usual deep resentment, he immediately regrets his accusation. “I’m sorry, Sami. I just – I am at a loss here.”
Sami flings his arms away and stamps her foot.
“This isn’t a game, John! Abe asked me to remember what I saw, and I remembered Kristen! Period! And if she’s the one who did this to my mom, then it’s your fault too!” Her face is red with anger, and she starts to cry. John just shakes his head in confusion and pain as he backs towards the door, bumping into things as he goes.
“Mr. Black, Miss Brady has been very helpful, and you saw she swore to tell the truth!” Underwood says, trying to get through to him.
John ignores her. “Abe? Tell me you are not seriously thinking that Kristen tried to kill Marlena!? You know what? Don’t answer that, buddy… don’t answer that. Call me when you have a serious lead, I have to get back to the hospital!” He looks at Sami who has dropped back onto her chair, crying and looking at John with scorn. He’s speechless and overcome with guilt at the sight of her.
“I wish you had never come to Salem, John!” She continues to lash out at him as he leaves. “And I wish you’d been executed!”
Her words stab at John through the door he’s just closed. He walks forward, but once he’s out of their sight, he leans up against the wall and tries to catch the breath that’s failing to enter his lungs. This is not happening, he thinks. This is *not* happening!
John steers his car up the long winding drive at the DiMera mansion. The place he lives. How did that happen? How did I come to live in Stefano’s mansion?
At the top, he brakes to an abrupt stop and puts it in park, then runs through the snow into the house. The cavernous house is mostly dark, except for the entrance and hall lights as he makes his way to Marlena’s room. His head is spinning, revolving around Sami’s words. ‘Why?’ He asks himself over and over. ‘Why? Why? Why?’
He forgets what he’s doing as he stands in the middle of the room. Sami’s words keep making him slam his eyes shut. ‘Kristen. I saw Kristen. Kristen at the elevators on my Mom’s floor. Kristen. Kristen had a bleeding cut on her hand. Kristen. Kristen. Kristen….’ He sits on the edge of Marlena’s bed and holds his head in his hands. The words taunt him, frighten, and confuse him. He keeps hearing Sami’s voice saying Kristen’s name in his head, until he can take it no longer. He tells himself that Sami’s mistaken. *Somehow* what she’d said was a big mistake. He gets his bearings and looks around him.
“Marlena.”
He breathes deeply. Saying her name calms him as he remembers he’s here to retrieve some things for her to have at the hospital. He goes to her dresser and opens her top dresser drawer not knowing which drawer has what inside.
He sees her under garments, and hosiery. It makes him uncomfortable doing this, yet as he reaches his hand in, grabbing some of the neatly folded items and feeling the softness against his rough hand, his mind clears of all the clutter and confusion. He swallows hard and brings the handful of silky, delicate, feminine attire to his face.
“Marlena,” he whispers into them, nostrils flaring, capturing their sweet fragrance. After moments of quiet splendor there with his face in her most personal things, he comes out of the trance they cast, and drops them back into the drawer. Disgusted with himself, he goes to her closet and pulls out a suitcase.
“God, what’s wrong with me?”
“I know what’s wrong with you, buddy,” he answers himself. “You’re in love with a woman you can’t have. And the woman you have, and love as well, has just been accused of possibly trying to murder that woman.” He laughs out loud, a laugh full of self-loathing and irony. He unzips the case and flips open the top. He starts to mindlessly scoop armsful of clothing out of her drawers, and dropping them into the suitcase. He doesn’t feel, or hear, the object he has grabbed and dropped there among Marlena’s things. A book that holds the key to every locked and unopened door in his life.
Looking up slowly into the sharp green eyes of the person she now remembers as her attacker, Marlena instantly senses she must forget again.
“Kristen, Hello.”
“You think you know *what*, Marlena?” Kristen snips.
Marlena doesn’t answer, but tries to get herself up into a sitting position; a less vulnerable posture.
Though she doesn’t remember the seconds before the attack, or the attack itself, she knows for sure now that it was Kristen. She was in her office, threatening her, attacking her with words… and then what? Marlena looks at Kristen and, trying to mask the fear she feels storming through her body, she smiles brightly. As Kristen moves closer, Marlena depresses the urge to scream for the guard, afraid of what Kristen would do if suddenly provoked.
“Marlena, who did this to you?” Kristen asks in her best sugar-coated, hate-filled voice. “I guess you have more enemies than you thought, huh?” She brushes her hand across a section of Marlena’s blanket, and then moves her fingers like they are walking, all the way up to the pillow. She’s trying to determine what her victim remembers, or how much she has forgotten. “So, tell me….”
“You don’t want an answer.”
“I don’t?”
“Please, Kristen, don’t pretend like you give a damn. Whoever did this to me, John will find them. He’s determined to find out.” Marlena watches as Kristen steps back all the way to the door.
She knows. I can see it in her eyes, Kristen thinks. This cryptic crap, well, I just don’t have time….
John throws the fully packed suitcase onto the seat next to him. He jumps in and pulls the seatbelt down across his chest. As he turns the key in the ignition he’s overcome with fear. It grips the center of him as a vision of Marlena flashes before his cloudy eyes. Every nerve in his body screams in an unbearable jolt to his system. He drops his head onto the steering wheel and closes his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly and feeling suddenly nauseous. He sees her face, and it’s full of terror. He feels her fear deep in his bones.
“God no,” he groans, “I can’t let it happen again!” He puts the vehicle in gear, steps hard on the gas, and fish-tails on the icy drive all the way down to the boulevard.
The nun returns to the small hospital room and lays a pair of navy sweatpants, a navy sweatshirt with ‘Salem University’ silkscreened on it, some socks, under-garments, and Susan’s own jacket onto the bed.
“Don’t take too long getting ready. I know you’re still in pain, but I want you to get your baby back as soon as possible. And maybe we can even arrange for some bed rest afterwards,” Sister Jeri says, patting Susan’s leg. “So, what do ya say?”
Susan smiles tentatively, showing her uncared-for teeth. She scrunches up the muscles in her face and asks, “Will I have to go back to prison? Huh, Sister?”
Grabbing Susan’s hand, Sister Jerome calmly tells her not to worry. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I got nothin’ else to do but make sure things work out for you this time. Do you understand? You’re my project, for however long it takes.”
Grinning from ear to ear bashfully, Susan buries her chin into her shoulder and nods profusely. “Yeah, let’s go get my baby back.”
Marlena quickly looks around for the buzzer. She’s careful to keep one eye on Kristen, who’s talking with the guard. She feels the wound in her abdomen stretching, painfully close to ripping, as she reaches for it. She hears Kristen implying to the guard that her friend Marlena, is feeling a draft and would like the door closed. She hears her instruct him to take a much needed break. As she shuts the door, and pulls the privacy curtain, Kristen sees Marlena groping for the switch at the top of her bed. She rushes over and rips it away just as Marlena’s fingers wrap around it.
Marlena groans with pain. She looks at Kristen and sees pure madness glaring at her.
“Don’t even say a word, Marlena!”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I need some more medication. I’m beginning to….”
“Oh, just stop it! Quit pretending Marlena! I know you so well. You remember! And that’s just so sad, because… YOU LOSE, DOC!”
“Kristen, I don’t know….”
“Did John tell you?” Kristen interrupts, speaking rapid-fire, “We have a beautiful baby boy! He looks just like his Daddy. And now we’re a family, and there is no way, Marlena, that you will ruin this for me. John will not, I repeat, will not *ever* know what I’ve done,” she laughs suddenly, just inches from Marlena’s face, snarling with demented glee.
If Marlena weren’t so afraid of the maniac in front of her, she would remind Kristen that she has remembered everything about her, even that their so called “beautiful baby boy” belongs to neither her nor John, but to some look-alike Stefano found, or created, or whatever evil, immoral way he pulled it off.
John, where are you? Marlena wonders. I have got to tell you what this madwoman has done to us! She closes her eyes, escaping from the nightmare of Kristen’s twisted face of evil. Knowing Kristen is here to finish the job, Marlena feels a scream rocketing forth. If she kills me, John will never know, she thinks, horrified at the prospect of John living out the rest of his life with a woman capable of murder.
I can’t let this happen!
She opens her mouth, and eyes, then is suddenly stricken mute and blind. Her scream erupts from deep in her lungs, causing pain from the tender spot where Kristen had plunged the broken porcelain. She blinks her eyes and only sees gray. The scream is muffled, never reaching the air. She begins to gasp and fight as Kristen uses all her strength to press the pillow harder and harder down onto Marlena’s face.
As lack of air slowly numbs the pain and weakens her grip on Kristen’s arms, Marlena sees her life flash before her in a whoosh of faces, places, good memories and bad. Swiftly they pass, as consciousness fades, stopping finally with the image of John the last time he told her he loved her. In Paris, after she told him of her love, he responded, “I love you.” Then he was pulled in one direction and she in another. I will not let Stefano do this, John! she swore to herself as the guards placed his head in the guillotine. I’d rather die with you….
John’s face disappears in a storm of blackness and the last thing Marlena hears before losing consciousness is Kristen’s tuneless whistling. A disturbing trill she uses to muffle the sounds of her final attempt at stealing the life of Marlena Evans, and the love of John Black.
As he makes his way through the corridors of the hospital, John is talking on his cell phone. Abe’s telling him that they’ve found Stefano’s hideout, but no Stefano. They’ve had sightings, and Abe says he’s going to check out where they lead. He also mentions the meeting with Sami. He reluctantly tells John that Underwood and he want to meet with Kristen tonight.
John cuts him off, “Abe, call me if you get anywhere with this. Keep in touch, okay? Gotta go!” He did not feel like admitting to Abe that he was having doubts, very strong ones at that, about Kristen. Inside, he still harbored a large chunk of hope that they were all way out in left field on the whole thing. The mother of his son could not do what that monster, whoever it was, had done.
He attempts putting the small phone back in his rear pocket, but can’t with just one hand, and drops it, then swings the suitcase to his other hand. He cusses loudly, knowing he can’t go back for it, as he starts to run.
Sweat beads up on his forehead and slides into his eyes as he climbs the stairs and reaches the right floor. His heart pounds madly inside his chest and in his throat. As he turns a corner he runs past Marlena’s guard who’s walking in the same direction. John slows, then stops and turns. He stands still in front of the approaching man.
“Where the hell are you goin’?” John growls fiercely. He’s stunned at having hired another slacker.
“Mr. Black. Um, I….” he stammers, trying to hold his cup of coffee steady. John pushes his hand angrily into the guard’s chest, knocking him off his heels, and causing him to spill the hot liquid.
“Dammit! You moron! Why aren’t you at your….”
“Please, Sir,” he interrupts. “I think I can explain. The woman you showed me a picture of? Your fiancee? She, well, she said it would be okay if I left my post while she visited Dr. Evans. They’re good friends….”
This information registers pure fear in John, as he drops the suitcase and heads down the last hallway towards Marlena’s room. As he gets close he sees her door is closed. He stops running and approaches the door. He hears a strange quavering whistle noise as he opens the door.
His heart stops as he sees his worst nightmare before him.
“Kristen! No!” he bellows with horror, then dives at her. Catching her off guard he pulls her back and they fall to the ground in a heap. He wraps his arms and legs around her kicking and hitting limbs, trying to restrain her.
“Doc! Marlena!” John screams, unable to see her or get to her.
There’s only silence from Kristen’s twisted, open mouth as it fails to release the scream inside her head.
Stefano watches as one of his jets lands smoothly onto the freshly plowed runway he calls his own. It’s hidden in a large portion of forest on the outskirts of Salem, on property he’s owned only a short time, having bought it on his return from Paris. It can only be detected from the air, and only when the runway lights are on, which isn’t often enough to raise suspicion or even notice–not in this small American hamlet. During daylight hours, the dirt road that leads right to the runway is gated and guarded, and originates as tire-tracks off the main highway. Even with these safeguards, Stefano is always confident of his ability to buy the silence of just about anyone, even the most ethical, upstanding citizens. Exceptions to an astounding amount of bribery had been few.
He closes his eyes and raises an expensive Cuban cigar to his mouth and inhales slowly, feeling the tobacco smoke fill his lungs deeply, burning slightly. He holds it there to get the full effect, then releases it in perfectly formed smoke rings. One after another they rise and evanesce into the plush confines of his luxury automobile. He’s awaiting his Queen, and feeling very much her King.
As he dreams of beginning his new life with Marlena, his car phone rings. Stefano listens intently as one of his lackey’s delivers disturbing news.
A hailstorm of panic hits John as he struggles with a thrashing Kristen. She has found her voice and is crying for release. Finally, not able to wait any longer for help to come, John allows her to spill out of his hold. She flies forward, out of control, and falls on the floor, head first. She screams as he leaps over her towards Marlena.
“John! There’s something wrong with her! I tried to help….”
When he gets to her, he sees what he feared. She’s not breathing. He howls an earth shattering cry for help, then begins to try resuscitating her. Soon there are people all around him, pulling him away so they can get access. Marlena’s guard grabs both John’s arms behind him, and pulls him aside.
“God, nooooo! Please… please, don’t let it be too late! Please save her!” John cries, unable to see her. He hears someone confirm what he saw, that Marlena isn’t breathing and has no pulse. As those words register in his mind, his throat constricts and he starts choking. The guard releases his arms as he bends over to catch his breath. He gasps for air in between sobs, and as he stands, his tear-filled eyes land upon Kristen, who is standing off to the side, her hands covering her mouth as she looks at John. With one swift pitch, John has her in his grasp and begins shaking her shoulders. She begins to plead and cry, begging him to stop.
“Why, Kristen?! Why?!” John roars, his face turning a crimson red and his eyes boiling with rage.
“I was only trying to help, John. She suddenly – she stopped breathing,” she insists.
John just shakes his head; his mouth trapped open in shock, gasping for a full breath. He knows she’s lying and he’s paralyzed with horror and confusion. He cannot comprehend why she would try to *kill* Marlena.
“John?” Kristen begs, “You don’t think I was trying to hurt Marlena?”
“I saw you,” he says in a raspy whisper full of astonishment.
Something fires up in John’s eyes and he grabs her hand. With a swift yank he holds it up to her face, forcing her to look at the cut that’s beginning to heal nicely. His hand squeezes her wrist so tightly that it starts to turn red and she begins twisting with pain. Her eyes beg him and she starts to cry again, denying vociferously what he’s implying.
He throws her arm back at her, and buries his face in his hands. Kristen moves toward him and presses herself against his body, and like a child she pulls on his shirt and jumps in short bursts against him.
Then she rubs her hands up and down his upper arms and repeats over and over, in a hushed, near panicking voice, “I love you, John. I love you, John. Soooo much… Please look at me, baby, please!”
John stops crying, wipes his face clear of tears, and repels his body from her seizure. As he turns away from her he gives her a look of tacit abhorrence. He recalls what he saw, and her denial he knows, is just the newest lie in what must now be, he realizes, an unspeakable amount of them. He looks at her now like she is a stranger, and she reads his face and knows she has lost him. ‘After all this time and effort, one mistake and he’s gone,’ she thinks. She buckles under the knowledge and backs up against the wall, slowly collapsing to the floor.
John wipes Kristen from his mind, not yet able to fully comprehend the whole truth and to picture Kristen doing such a deviant thing. He begins to pray, as he listens and watches the medical team working on Marlena. When he hears a nurse cry, “I’ve got a pulse!” he begins to sob into his hands. He thanks God over and over silently.
“John,” a voice comes from behind him, along with a hand on his shoulder. He turns and sees Mike looking confused. “What happened?!”
“Mike. Doc, she wasn’t breathing,” he tries to explain. Mike rushes to Marlena’s bed, and as John turns to follow, he can’t help but notice Kristen is nowhere in sight.
“John, how did this happen?” Mike inquires as he checks Marlena’s pupils. John closes his eyes as he struggles to get the words out.
Kristen jogs up to the glass window of the nursery and looks for the baby. When she spots him, she indicates to the nurse by pointing that she wants to see him. She goes to the door and waits. When the nurse opens it, Kristen requests permission to take her baby home. The nurse tells her to wait.
After pacing back and forth for what seems like an eternity to her, Kristen jumps when the door opens and the nurse tells her to follow her so she can check out.
“But, my baby….” she says, trying not to sound too upset.
“It’s okay, first we have to sign you out. Come, follow me Kristen,” the woman says, then starts walking ahead. Kristen bites her bottom lip and charges after her.
As they fill out the paper work, the nurse looks at Kristen and asks, “Where’s that handsome fella of yours?”
“Huh?”
“Your husband, or boyfriend? Where is he?”
Kristen stops writing for a moment and looks at the woman, and realizes it’s the nurse who brought the baby in when John was with her.
“Oh, my fiancee? John Black? He’s… he had to leave town on business. You know self-made men. Nothing, not even the birth of their children slows them down.”
“Right. Well, I wouldn’t know. My husband’s a *sanitation engineer*,” she laughs.
Kristen flashes one of her best impersonal “personable” smiles, and continues scribbling.
“Mike? Is she going to be okay?” John asks guardedly. His worried eyes search his friends face for an answer. Mike looks solemnly at John. He instructs his coworkers to transfer Marlena to ICU. “Mike! What?! She’s breathing, right?”
“We got her back….” Mike starts.
John heaves a sigh of relief and grabs Mike into a hug. “Thank you, Mike! Oh, god, thank you!”
“John,” Mike says, pulling away and looking gravely at him.
“What?”
John and Mike move out of the way as Marlena, who’s been put on a gurney, is wheeled out of the room. John watches and starts to follow, when Mike yanks him back.
“John, I think you should know… there could be brain damage. Tell me, do you know how long she was without oxygen?”
“Oh, Jesus, no,” he closes his eyes, clamps his jaw down and thinks. “I’d say… I – I don’t know! When I came in the room Kristen had the pillow over….” He can’t complete his sentence and reels his body around in exasperation. Then landing a fist into the door, he screams, “Damn you Kristen! Why, dammit, why?”
“John,” Mike says. “It’s alright. Let’s go.”
John bends, placing his hands on his knees and tries to catch his breath. As he calms down, he straightens up slowly, feeling unsteady, and nods to Mike. “Yeah, let’s go.”
As they leave the room, Mike pats John on the back and says, “When was the last time you shaved, pal?” John lets go of a very weak laugh.
Kristen reluctantly allows the orderly to push her to the front entrance in a wheelchair in order not to attract attention. When he stops at the entrance, she politely thanks him and clutches the baby to her chest and slowly strides out of the light of the entrance and into the darkness, and begins her trek to the rear entrance where she expects to see a car waiting for her.
“Oh, please, be there,” she pleads out loud, as she trudges through a snow drift, taking a short cut. When she reaches the back of the hospital she looks out at the parking lot and spots the large black limo. Her heart races as she hops up and down, waving to the driver. When it appears he hasn’t seen her, Kristen swears out loud and darts across the ice patches and pavement.
Once inside, she blasts the driver with colorful insults, and instructs him to take her to wherever Stefano is. The driver politely responds that he was told to take her directly to the DiMera mansion, not to see her father. Once again his ears are treated to splashes of unladylike expressions, and a thwack against the headrest directly behind his head.
“Yes, mam,” he submits. Then under his breath, he delights himself with his own earthy response to the demure Ms. DiMera, and smoothly drives the limo away from University Hospital.
John peers through the small window of the door leading to the ICU where Marlena lies unconscious. He watches her still body, willing her to open her eyes and be all right.
“Please, Doc,” he whispers a solemn plea, “come back.”
‘Come back,’ he thinks, ‘so I can tell you how sorry I am, because this is all my fault.’ He backs away from the door and looks at the cold walls surrounding him. The exhaustion he feels in his mind and body overcomes him and he staggers towards one of them and leans against its callous surface, pressing the side of his face to its coolness and closes his eyes. The nightmare of seeing Kristen smothering Marlena plays in his head like a film loop, over and over. As he loses the vision, he’s about to fall asleep standing up, when a tap on his shoulder springs him from the impending arms of Morpheus.
“Mr. Black?”
“Hmm? Huh?” He turns, bleary-eyed, to see the young guard handing him the cell phone he’d dropped earlier on his way to Marlena’s room.
“I found this.”
John grabs it from him forcefully. “You’re fired, pal,” he says flatly, pushing the man aside, and walking back to the small window to see Marlena again.
“Sir?”
“What!” he shouts, feeling full-force the intense pain of a headache throbbing throughout his skull.
“Uhm, well, I’m really sorry, Mr. Black… you know, about what happened and all. I just wanted to say, well, I’m very sorry. I didn’t know she was dangerous. Nobody told me to watch out for *her*. I was wrong to let her in the room, I know, and for that I’m sorry. I hate to think what might’ve happened if you hadn’t come when you….”
“Me too, pal. And don’t blame yourself. The blame, I’m afraid, well, that’s *my* territory,” John says, laughing mordantly through clenched teeth, jabbing his chest hard with his finger.
“Sir, why do you say that? You saved her didn’t you? I thought….”
John walks past the man again and stops in front of the window facing the courtyard. The moon above illuminates the new snow cover, and the sight sends a path of goose bumps across his skin. He shakes his aching head, wondering how to wake himself from this hell.
“Oh, yeah, I saved her alright,” he says sarcastically, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “How do you save someone from the hell you put them through? How do I give her back all the happiness I ripped from her life for years,” John says quietly.
“Sir?”
John swipes at the tears collecting along the rims of his eyes, and looks again at the guard dismissively. “Nothing,” he says. “You’re still fired. Now, take off.”
“Right. Good night, Mr. Black.”
As if on cue, Mike emerges from the ICU as the guard turns on his heels.
“Mike?” John asks, his heart beginning to pound in unison with the pain in his head.
“I’m sorry, John, but we won’t know for a while yet. She’s still unconscious, but she’s stable. I just wanted to tell you to go lay down somewhere,” Mike says, concern in his voice and eyes.
“Nooooo. Can’t do that,” John says shaking his head in protest.
“John, you need sleep. My god, you haven’t slept since this happened have you?”
“I slept. I took a nap when I was in Doc’s room last night,” John asserts as he rubs his hand over a two day beard. Then a coating of fog covers his eyes and he has to blink several times to see Mike clearly again.
“John, why don’t you go lay down in Marlena’s room for a while. I’ll know where you are so I can contact you when I know how she is. Okay? Please. I have to insist… for Marlena’s sake.”
John clears his throat and reluctantly nods in agreement. He knows he needs to sleep, but he knows that his slumber won’t be peace filled, but will be disquieted by haunting visions of the nightmare that has been his reality since he woke up and saw a dead man alive.
“Yeah, okay, but promise me someone will be watching her.”
“You got it.”
“Sister? Could we puleeeezzze, please, slow down!?”
The nun turns and sees Susan lagging behind, as they trudge through the unplowed parking lot of the hospital. “I’m sorry,” she says, and grabs the frail woman’s arm and helps speed her along.
She feels incredibly motivated. Causes like the plight of this poor creature give her unlimited will. It was what got her through Vietnam as a nurse, and then her work with HIV patients during the late 1980’s’s in Boston and New York City. Now, after living the slower paced life of retirement, in her sleepy home town of Salem, working mainly with battered women, poor single mothers, and the destitute–lost souls who come to the charity hospital, she finds purpose in helping each troubled life that walks through the door. It’s her reason for living now, since her mother, whom she’d come home to care for, had passed away.
And her reason now, on this particular night, is to reunite a mother and son.
Once in the hospital, they make their way to the maternity ward and attempt to make clear their predicament to an impatient, overworked receptionist. Jeri takes a deep breath, and restates the situation, slowly and plainly, attempting to make sure she is understood. Susan leans against the counter in obvious pain, shaking her head, getting more and more agitated. Without looking at her, Jeri reaches down and grabs Susan’s hand and squeezes it, instantly calming her jittery client.
Frustrated with the incompetent receptionist, who keeps shoving a piece of paper at her, Jeri slams her fist down on the counter, and flings a prudent cuss word at the woman, who is totally unfazed. It is at this juncture that a man approaches the station.
“Karen, could I please get the Molloy twins’ chart?”
Susan twists promptly, ears perked, towards the familiar voice.
“Dr. Robbins!”
As John slogs towards Marlena’s hospital room, he is suddenly inflicted with a flash of memory not his own. It is a scene he wasn’t a witness to, yet it comes in loud and clear as if he’d been a fly on the wall. He tries to shake it out of his head as it materializes in his mind’s eye, first in quick bursts, and now playing out like a movie. He has to stop walking. He leans against the hallway wall and presses his palms against his eyes, applying pressure that he hopes will eradicate the images. It’s a familiar feeling to John. It’s like he has on Stefano’s virtual reality goggles.
“No! Doc!” John’s tormented cry echoes down the hallway, as he watches Kristen smash a vase over the back of Marlena’s head. “Marleeeeennnnnaaa!” His hands repeatedly cuff his skull as he is afflicted with the violent, dreamlike scenes that play out over and over. And then again, as he sees Kristen plunge a sharp piece of the same vase into the crumpled, unprotected, vulnerable body of the very heart of him. *Marlena*. Itís as though Kristen is piercing his own stomach.
He doesn’t see, feel, or hear the two nurses who have searched out the source of the cry, and stand just a few feet away from him, uncertain about what to do to help this man who is obviously drunk or in a delusional state.
John’s legs can no longer hold himself up, so his body succumbs to gravity, and he glides down the wall to the floor. The nurses both step forward as he does this, but they stop again, and continue to witness as John fights away the revelations in his mind.
Each time the vision replays itself, John flinches and clutches his stomach, forced to feel Kristen’s betrayal with the immediate consequence of physical pain. Stab after stab, John feels the intense pain that Marlena’s unconscious body never perceived. This is an agony he accepts, knowing he deserves it. Knowing, somehow his pain is a just punishment for his weak will, and blind trust. If only all this pain made sense though, he thinks. He knew now that he was dealing with the knowledge that what happened was the truth, but what he couldn’t deal with was the *reason*.
*Kristen tried to kill Marlena*. This was the naked, inconceivable truth. But what was the impetus? What could possibly have motivated Kristen to try to kill Marlena? To kill! He could not come up with anything that could satisfy his requirements for a motivation to kill.
This truth was sending him to hell, and the flames nipping at his heels were blistering and apparently unavoidable. He was going to have to pay.
Startled by the high-pitched squeal that erupted out of Susan, Jeri quizzically turned to see her charge’s face mere inches from an unnerved doctor.
“Dr. Robbins! You gotta get my boy back for me!”
The quietly handsome man instinctually backs away as Susan shouts in his direction. He looks bewildered to say the least.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
Jeri doesn’t let Susan answer. She walks up to the man and holds her hand out in greeting. Faced with a less boisterous presence, Dr. Robbins smiles and shakes her hand.
“How can I help you?”
Jeri figures this had been Susan’s doctor, and that he didn’t identify an undisguised Susan as Kristen, the mother of the baby. This was going to take a while, so she guides the amiable doctor towards an unoccupied waiting area. Susan shuffles behind, a wide, relieved smile on her pale face. Suddenly, the pain she was feeling isn’t so bad.
As one of the nurses squats down next to a sweat-soaked, mumbling John, a familiar voice brakes him from his trance. His eyelids flutter as he works to open his eyes.
“Oh, dear,” Caroline says, pushing past the nurse to bend down and reach John. “What happened?”
“We’re not sure. He seems to be delusional, or something. Is he someone you know?” one of the nurses asks.
“Yes,” she answers. “John, stand up, Dear….”
John focuses and aims his hand towards her face but can’t quite touch her. “Ma?”
“Yes, Dear. Let’s get you up now. Come on,” she says, overcome with worry.
John flounders, unable to get his footing as he stands. Caroline and the nurses try unsuccessfully to catch him as he lurches, unbalanced, into the opposing wall. There, he turns and lets out a bedraggled, drunk sounding laugh as he steadies himself against the wall.
The nurses back up, then leave to let Caroline help John herself.
“John?”
He doesn’t answer as he tries to establish where he is. As Caroline approaches him, her hand going towards his face, everything is once again painfully real. He’d called her and told her about what had happened. And seeing her coming towards him with a look of love and compassion in her eyes, he grabs her and hugs her.
“Ma,” he calls her without thinking, feeling at home in her arms. “Thanks for coming,” he says, feeling himself losing control again. He lets the comfort of her maternal concern envelope him as he begins to cry.
“Oh, honey,” she whispers. “It’s alright… it’s alright.”
“It’s not,” he tells her. “It’s *not* alright.”
She pulls back and looks at him. He turns away from her eyes, and covers his face with his hands.
“It’s all wrong. Everything, Caroline. Marlena’s… she may be *brain damaged*, and it’s all my fault. I- I can’t believe this is happening! Sami was right. I should have died in the gas chamber! “
“John, no! Don’t say that. Please, dear.” She begs.
“No!” He shouts, then looks at her, his face plastered with devastation. “It’s my fault! If I was dead, none of this would have happened to Marlena. I wish I’d never… Oh, what’s the point? It’s too late. If Doc dies, I- I don’t know what I’ll do. If she’s left… a… a vegetable, how can I ever make that right? Huh? What can I ever do to pay for that!?”
“John, it isn’t your fault. It’s Kristen’s. Somehow, things went terribly wrong with her and….”
“And? And *what*? She tried to kill Marlena? Can you explain that? I sure as hell can’t! But whatever it was, I should have seen it coming. Why didn’t I see this coming?”
“Nobody knew, John. No one can make sense of this.”
“But I live with her! She’s the mother of my son! For god’s sake, Caroline. What am I going to tell my *son* about her? Oh, God!” He shouts, overcome with questions that have no answers. Then, thoughts of his son bring new troubling questions to mind. A very scary realization registers in him.
“Oh, no. My son….”
He grabs Caroline’s arm and squeezes it gently, giving her a look of dread. He releases her and hurries away.
“What, John?! What?” she calls after him.
He can’t stop to answer her as he heads full tilt towards the nursery where, if his fears are correct, he’ll find Kristen has taken his son. If she’s desperate. If she thinks she has lost him, he surmises, she wouldn’t just walk away and leave the baby. This thought constricts his throat with fear as he begins another race down another stairwell.
“This doesn’t change anything!” Stefano shouts. “Carry out my plan you idiot! I’m waiting! And my patience is wearing thin!”
He slams down his car phone and fumes with anger. Things were getting precarious, he had to admit to himself. But, at least now, he knows for sure what he’s dealing with, and it’s worse than he could ever have imagined. However, his determination to have Marlena once and for all is as strong as the ocean is wide, so he resolves that these disturbing developments won’t change that goal. ‘Not now, not ever,’ he vows, taking one last puff from his cigar, then stamping it out. ‘I will take care of the problem,’ he swears. ‘And I will make it up to Marlena with a new and wonderful life. She will survive. She will be mine.’
He’s suddenly blinded by the glare of light in his rearview mirror. A car has pulled up behind him, and because it isn’t expected, his mind races with uncertainty thinking that maybe, impossibly, he has been caught. Then his raised eyebrows drop with the realization that he has not been found out, but has an unexpected visitor. Someone who he is uncertain about how to deal with. Someone who has disappointed him beyond anything ever in his life.
He closes his eyes and waits for Kristen to approach the door.
A strange mixture of facial expressions play themselves out on the motionless, obviously stunned, Dr. Robbins as he listens closely to Sister Jerome tell him an implausible tale. She patiently expounds the scenario in detail, so as not to leave any doubts in his mind that what she is saying is the truth.
“….and that’s why we’re here,” she says finally. “This woman has been robbed of her child, and you have a responsibility to right this wrong, Doctor. Don’t you agree?”
The man’s eyes refuse to blink. He stands up, puts his hands on his hips and looks at Susan for a long moment, then sits down again. After letting out a pent up sigh, he says, “If what you say, Sister, is the truth… and well, reviewing things in my mind now, it would explain a lot…. Oh, boy. This is *incredible*. I’ve never run into anything like this.” He runs his hands through his hair and then over his face while it all sinks in.
“Well,” Jeri insists, “I know it’s the middle of the night, and you’re obviously a tired man, but I must insist you give this woman her child. Call the police, or whatever, but do the good and decent thing and get her baby back.”
He looks at her, his eyes still full of questions. Then he shakes his head in agreement.
“Let me see. Follow me, please.”
“Doctor Robbins?” Susan stops him. “Will Kristen DiMera have to go to prison?”
He looks at her, taken aback by her question. All he seems to be able to do is shrug his shoulders, then turn and continue along.
Jeri smiles at Susan and grabs her cold hand. She feels triumphant. Getting that old rush she used to get in Vietnam when she was scrambling on all fours, on dirt-floored tents, trying to save mangled young soldiers, bombs going off in the near distance, shaking her so it felt like her teeth would fall out. Well, maybe, she thinks, this isn’t quite as *perilous* as her experiences back then, but still, her blood was pumping and she had that old itch for action.
While he’s moving hastily in the stairwell to reach the nursery, John’s cell phone rings. When he reaches a landing, he stops and opens it.
“Black here.”
“John, it’s Abe. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. What is it, Abe?”
“I just wanted you to know that we have one of Stefano’s men. Found him at the hideout, but he’s not talking. Yet. I think were getting close to finding Stefano, John. My men are tracking him down as we speak,” Abe says with confidence in his voice.
“Abraham, that’s great. But listen….” John continues his jaunt down the stairs.
“John, I hate to bring this up, but Underwood and I will probably need to bring Kristen to the station, or talk to her at the hospital this morning. I want you to be there. I’m sorry, buddy, but you know, I think we have to do this… just to straighten things out.
John closes his eyes and says wearily into the receiver, “Abraham… she tried to do it again….”
“Huh? What again?”
“She tried to take Marlena away from me again. I’m sorry, I mean, I caught her… Kristen, trying to kill Doc again. You gotta find her. She disappeared after….” John’s voice trails off, unable to connect his words together to say the hideous truth. “I think she might have taken the baby. I have to go. I have to go!” he says, and folds up the phone. He looks at it, and in a moment of alertness and anger, he throws it down the stairs, and it smashes into pieces against the closed door on the landing. His feet crush down on the broken bits as he exits the stairwell.
As he heads towards the now visible nursery window, he also sees Dr. Robbins coming from the opposite direction. When they meet at the window, the doctor sighs heavily and says, “John. I’m so glad we found you.”
The look on Dr. Robbins’ face told John that what he expected to find when he got here was indeed what he now had to deal with. Before letting the man say anything, John’s face drains of blood as he braces himself, and sighs heavily. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“What?” Dr. Robbins asks, confused.
Then Susan tugs her hand from the nun’s grasp, and brazenly steps up to John.
“John, I know you’re an honest and good man, and you’ll give me my baby back!” She declares, chin held high and head tilted as she waits his reply.
John looks up into the face of this stranger and his own face turns from distraught to baffled. “Who are you, and what the hell are you talking about?”
Jeri maneuvers herself around so she’s now facing John. She presents him with her hand and introduces herself. As she begins to lay out Susan’s story again, she’s cut off.
“What’s going on here?” John asks, looking from face to face, hoping for some kind of explanation.
“Sister, let me tell John. Please. Why don’t you and Susan see if you can find the baby behind the window. Okay?”
“Dr. Robbins, I don’t know who these women are or what you are all talking about, but I need to find my son, and my fian… Kristen. Have you seen her? Have you seen Kristen?” His eyes are full of desperation as he goes up to the window and searches, but can’t find Baby Boy Black. After each baby he looks at, his heart drops, and when he runs out of babies, he holds tightly to the ledge below the window and tries to gather some strength.
“John,” Dr. Robbins begins, standing behind John and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to sit down. I have something very upsetting to tell you. Something unbelievable.”
John turns around, his face ashen and devoid of emotion. His son was in the hands of the woman he now knew was capable of murder. Just what she had planned, and was capable of now, was the problem he had to face.
“John? Please, come sit down.”
Suddenly irritated, John fumes, “What! Don’t you hear me? I said I have to find Kristen!”
Two voices break into the tension that was building, “The baby’s gone!”
John and Dr. Robbins turn and look at where the voices have erupted. Both Jeri and Susan are pointing into the nursery and staring at the two men with open-mouthed shock.
“Okay, hold everything!” John shouts. “What the *hell* is going on here?! Are you talking about my baby? I KNOW he’s gone. *Obviously*, Kristen took him!”
“Oh, no!” Susan gasps.
“Oh, my God!” Jeri joins in.
“But, John… why would Kristen take the baby?” Dr. Robbins asks.
“She tried to kill Marlena! It was Kristen who tried to kill her! And then I caught her… caught her doing it again!
“Oh, John, no! Kristen? Oh my god, why?” Dr. Robbins asks, feeling just as confused as John.
“I don’t know! I just can’t… I can’t answer that right now. I have to find her, and get my son back before she does something crazy! I don’t know how far she might go, now, knowing she’s been found out! Did you see her at all?” John was breathing rapidly now, his heart racing and pounding against his chest powerfully. His mind, tired and full of turmoil, was rummaging for answers, and running into walls.
“I haven’t seen her,” Dr. Robbins says. “But, John, you don’t understand. There’s more you need to know. These ladies, they….”
John pushes past Dr. Robbins, “You saw her? You saw Kristen?” He asks the two women. Both shake their heads. “Then what?” he asks, turning back to the obstetrician.
“John, the baby Kristen has… well, he isn’t yours, or hers.”
John shakes his head, utter confusion plastering his face. “Huh? *Now*, what the hell are you talking about?!”
“It’s true. Your *son* is really the *son* of this woman,” the doctor tells him, as he gently pulls Susan over.
John repeats, “My son is your son?”
“Yes,” she states.
His arms fly up from his sides, then collapse in a loud slap down against his hips, “I give up! What the hell kind of bullshit are you trying to pull here Doctor?!”
“Well,” Dr. Robbins starts, trying to remain as calm as possible, “It would seem that Kristen not only was capable of attempted murder, John, but according to these two, she and her father cooked up a plan to pass this woman off as Kristen, and her baby off as your son.”
John tries to be polite and listen, but cannot. “That’s insane! Why are you saying this?”
Jeri can’t stand by silently any longer. She had expected something like this, so she opens the large bag Susan had taken home with her from the hospital, and had with her when she had found her stumbing around in the street.
“Mr. Black,” she says, “take a look at this.” She hands him the blond wig. Then the false teeth. John flinches when seeing he’s holding Kristen’s teeth. He lets out a string of vulgarities and throws them, and the wig, down onto the floor.
“It would seem, sir, that your girlfriend is a lot like her adoptive father,” Jeri announces, confronting John, who is standing rigidly, jaw tight, eyes widely fixed on her. “Apparently she lost your baby, then her father, Stefano DiMera, sent this poor, already pregnant woman to her so she could use her to impersonate her for doctor’s appointments and such. Until, finally, she took Susan’s baby immediately after she gave birth, and felt justified in keeping him as her’s and your’s.”
John seems unable to move. He looks finally, at Dr. Robbins, checking his face for signs that he didn’t believe it either. However, he had only a concerned countenance, and pitying eyes. “I… I don’t understand. That was *you*, disguised? It was *you* at her appointments? Kristen wasn’t pregnant?”
The flurry of questions go unanswered, as John’s exhausted mind suddenly goes click, click, click, like successive doors unlocking. Closing his eyes, he opens the doors. That’s why, he realizes, she wouldn’t let me touch her stomach. Why she never wanted to go to her appointments. Why she didn’t seem to gain weight at all. God, I’ve been so blind. Deaf and dumb. Opening his eyes, he walks to Susan, and looks at her closely. Yes, there was familiarity in her features….
“Why did you do it? Why would you agree to do that? Give your baby away?” He asks her.
Not wanting Susan to have to justify herself, Sister Jeri tells him, “Stefano DiMera threatened her. He dangled certain promises over her head like carrots, and then when the plan succeeded, he laughed at her and took them away. So she escaped, and I found her wandering the streets just hours after giving birth. She could have died.” She saw no reason why anyone had to know about the prison issue. She would take care of that little problem as well.
“That bastard!”
John feels anguish so deep inside that he wants to vomit.
The nightmare that began, what seemed like weeks ago, with the Phoenix rising once again, then with Marlena being attacked, then finding Kristen smothering Marlena, had now peaked with the agonizing news that he had lost his son. Or had it been a daughter? Tears loom in his eyes, as the world around him seems to crumble. All he can reach for are thoughts of Marlena. He needs to see her. To touch her. He desperately needs to see her face.
“John are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” Dr. Robbins asks.
John looks up, then says dully, “Can you get my life back? My son? Marlena? Can you bring them back to me? Can you explain to me why everything I touch… everyone I love gets hurt? Can you tell me that, doctor?”
Her lips are tinged with purple, but it isn’t to match the hue of her eye shadow. She is shivering, and pounding on the window at the same time trying to hold onto the baby she claimed as her own. Her eyes are pleading, and she’s screaming as loud as the baby is.
“Please, Stefanooooo! FATHER! Open this door, now!”
The burly man sitting comfortably inside the vehicle regards the crazed, and familiar face. For moments, he contemplates thoughts of abandonment, and absolute rejection, then his flawed heart wins out and he opens the door.
Once inside, Kristen sits back and lifts the baby out from inside her coat. Her teeth chatter as she rewraps him in the blanket. It doesn’t seem to worry her that his lips are purple too.
“There’s my little angel,” she coos. Then she looks up at Stefano and smiles. “Thank God, you hadn’t left the country yet! I need your help Stefano… Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Why, Kristen? Why?” His voice is burdened with pain, as he tries to remain as calm as he possible. He sees the sun rising through the trees, and breathes deeply.
Dr. Robbins is without words for John. He reaches over and squeezes John’s shoulder, but can’t find a single word of comfort. John smiles wearily, and leans against the window of the nursery again. He knows he has to do something to stop Kristen… to get that little, innocent baby back. He has to give this woman her son. The baby who was to be the replacement for his own child, who had died months ago. The realization of what Kristen had done is too much for him.
His mind is being hammered by the truth. It was unlocking doors, but not setting him free. He was unable to enter or exit. He stands paralyzed in the entrance, seeing the truth but not understanding any of it. It’s shattering him.
“Mr. Black?”
John turns, his eyes blood-shot and red-rimmed, and sees Jeri. She smiles compassionately. “I can see this is a major shock. I’m sorry this is all happening to you. It must be terrible to be betrayed in this way, but I hope you can see that you are not the only victim. Susan is too. She’s made a lot of mistakes in her life, and bad decisions, and I know she regrets being a part of this awful scheme, but I don’t think her punishment should be the loss of her child.”
John straightens up and says, “I… I’ll do all I can to get her baby back. I don’t want any harm to come to him. He should be with his mother.”
“Thank you. Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I have to call someone. You just take care of her. I’ll get her baby back *somehow*,” John says, pointing to Susan who is staring blankly into the nursery.
“John,” Dr. Robbins says, “if you need anything, anything at all….”
John nods, and watches the doctor walk away.
“Listen,” he tells Jeri, “I have to go. I don’t know what to tell you to do. I’m going to try like hell to find Kristen. I have a feeling she’ll seek out that old man, uh, her father,” he reasons, and turned to go.
“Wait,” she calls after him, “Here’s my card.”
John takes it and salutes her with it as he rushes breathlessly down the hall towards Marlena.
Stefano’s voice keeps rising in anger and volume the more his question go unanswered. Soon he’s inches from Kristen’s face, screaming and spitting.
“Tell me Kristen! Tell me! Why did you try to kill Marlena?!”
Kristen stares back into his eyes for long moments, unafraid, and when she opens her mouth to speak it’s in a voice deep and full of insolence.
“Back off, Stefano. Don’t you *dare* question me. Don’t you ever, EVER condescend to me… you of all people!” she barks. Then she waits while Stefano recedes back into the seat across from her, wiping his mouth and wheezing, completely taken off guard and feeling slightly emasculated. Mellowing a bit, and repositioning the baby across her chest, she eases into the plush cushion. Then, with her best shit-eating grin she says, “Now, since you asked, and not too kindly I might add, I’ll tell you why I tried to *off* the good Doctor.” She pauses, then laughs and winks, pointing at him, “You know, I should have been more creative about it, like you… but, well, I really didn’t plan it out. Kinda sudden, you know?” She says sarcastically.
“KRISTEN….”
“I had no choice!”
“You should have come to me,” he pleads.
“I *did*, dammit! You said you were leaving the country! And, well, then that *witch* saw my padding and I HAD NO CHOICE!” she blares. “She was going to tell John everything. What could I do? HUH? You tell me, Mr. All Powerful and All Knowing!? What the hell was I going to do?”
Stefano sits there like a Buddha, contemplating her challenge, until his car phone rings–breaking his meditation. He listens to the voice on the other end and then turns it off, not saying a word, only grunting.
“What is it? Who was that?” Kristen demands.
Stefano’s eyes shoot to her and he begins to snare his upper lip into an arc, “Damn them!”
“What!?”
“They know where we are! Damn that fool John Black! If only he hadn’t seen me! He won’t escape with his life intact this time.” He says, his voice rolling into a growl. Then he smiles maliciously, “What’s that saying? Three strikes and your dead?”
“No. Three strikes and you’re *out*!”
“Exactly!”
Kristen, becoming alarmed, puts the baby on the seat next to her, and leans forward, sticking her finger into Stefano’s massive chest, “Don’t you even *think* about killing John! You… better start thinking about helping me get him BACK! Just forget all that revenge crap!”
He lynches her finger and throws it angrily back at her.
“Now, it’s your turn to listen, Kristen,” he commands. She makes a scared little girl face, and begins to pout–all to no avail as Stefano continues his charge, giving her a little of her own medicine. “Listen to your ‘All Powerful Father’: like you said, my dear, ‘What am I supposed to do?”
She snaps her teeth together, showing them to Stefano, and growls like a rabid dog.
Stefano snaps his head back and roars with laughter.
“Abraham. I’m glad I got ya. I was right, Kristen took the baby. I have to assume she’s gone by now… probably with Stefano. Any leads there? I don’t think we have much time, buddy,” John says anxiously, leaving out the awful fact that *the baby* wasn’t actually his.
Or hers.
“I agree. And I have good news, John. We got his man to spill his guts and we know where his is,” Abe said. “We’re on our way.”
“I’d like to go with you, Abe….”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let us bring him in. Stay with Marlena. She needs you more than I do, pal.”
Abe’s words send a wave of urgency through him and he hangs up the phone without saying good-bye.
Mike Horton’s tired baby blues are studying Marlena’s electroencephalogram readings at the foot of her bed, when a slight rustling noise directs him to look away from the paper. He looks due south and sees his friend’s feet shifting position under the blanket, then due north where he can see her sit straight up and wince with pain.
“Marlena!” He shouts with joy, then promptly drops the read-out and bolts to her side. “Lay down, okay. Oh, boy, you had us worried!”
“Oooooo, I’m dizzy… Mike. Oh, my head.”
The grin on his face slackens a bit as he helps her settle back down. She reaches for her head with her hands and plants them there, continuing to cringe and moan in pain.
All Mike can do is stand there, arms folded across his chest, and nod his head, smiling amply, both relieved and heartened by her strength of will to live. Only when she swings her arm out and whacks him across his mid-section does he change his posture. He bends over and let out a surprised groan.
“Whoa!” He half laughs and half chokes in pain.
“What kind of Dr. are you Mike Horton? Get me something for this darn pain in my head!”
“Yes, sir, Doctor Sir!” He bows, and charges away to get her a painkiller. When he comes back he’s upset to see she hasn’t remained conscious. He checks her vitals and determines she’s okay, but still he worries a little. He picks up the readings off the floor and shoves them under his arm and leaves the room to go tell John the good news. Marlena had awakened, and from her behavior, he feels she’s the same bright, spirited and *combative* woman they all new and loved. He can’t wait to tell him.
As he walks down the hall at a fast clip, John keeps squeezing his eyes shut, trying to banish the aching fatigue, but finds it only intensifies. It’s when they are shut, for just a moment, that he veers off course and slams into Mike, who has his eyes down, reading Marlena’s test.
“Mike!” He exclaims, grabbing the smaller man’s shoulders and balancing him. “Sorry, man, I’m sorry. There you go….”
“Hey, have I got good news!”
“I knew it!”
Mike smiles broadly, “Yep, she woke up, John! She woke up and spoke to me. I thinks she’ll be just fine.”
His eyes slam shut in relief and he releases a burst of air from his tightened lungs. He smiles, feeling suddenly lightheaded and weak-kneed. I gotta see her, he thinks. *Now*. With a gust of energy, he whacks Mike’s shoulder, and runs towards Marlena.
“Thanks, Mike!”
Mike tilts his head quizzically and frowns, rubbing his *guaranteed to be bruised in an hour* shoulder. ‘What am I doing,’ he thinks, ‘that makes people want to hit me?’
“John! Wait,” he calls. “Marlena, she’s not….”
John’s heart’s pounding like a rabbits as he blasts into the ICU, and Marlena’s room.
“Doc!” He shouts from the doorway before he reaches her bed. Then, when he does come to it, his heart stops. She wasn’t awake! He panicks, almost falling on the floor, his legs feeling like Jell-O. He was expecting to see her awake, and here she was, he thought fearfully, unconscious!
He tries to breath evenly, but he can’t. He’s shaking uncontrollably so he steadies himself on the bed and bend slowly toward her face. He nestles the side of his face against the side of hers and feels the coolness of her cheek against his sweating skin.
“Come on, Doc. No fair… Mike said you were awake,” he whispers into her ear. Then he kisses it, and lifts his head up to look at her. He grits his teeth and tries to guide his trembling hand along her smooth skin, but he has to once again steady himself on the bed. Fatigue and lack of food is sapping all his remaining strength. He closes his eyes, and bends his head slowly, inhaling and exhaling, fighting the urge to just cave to the ground.
As his breathing becomes regular, and his nerves start to relax, he asks God for a favor.
In a soundless prayer, only his lips moving, he begs, “Lord, please wake up this sleeping beauty. Let me prove to her how sorry I am. Please, give me the time to make up to her all the pain I’ve caused… all the pain.”
After completing his prayer with a slow sign of the cross, he feels her hand surround his chin. His eyelids fly open and he once again starts to tremble at the sight of her dancing, golden brown eyes looking up at him. A tidal wave of relief splashes through his body.
“Oh, my… you have a beard,” she says wistfully.
He wraps his large hands around her wrist and presses his quivering lips frantically into her palm.
“I like you in a beard. Did I ever tell you that?”
John can’t speak.
He can barely breathe.
All he can do is rest his face in her hand, and cry.
Marlena watches silently as John’s tears flow into her hand and slowly glide down her arm, tickling her skin. She feels a dizzying joy at being alive, although she isn’t really sure how it’s possible she survived. Kristen had tried to smother the life out of her, and she remembers, with every nerve in her body, the fear and despair she felt as she lost consciousness. The unbearable darkness that had surrounded her was not just the physical reality of death, but the harrowing knowledge that she would never see her children again. Never again to tell them how much she loved them and treasured them.
Then, she remembers, she had seen John’s face. There, in the blinding storm of her last moment, she’d seen him, then… *nothing*. Now, she wonders, how do I tell you, my love? How do I spare you the certain pain? Because, God knows, John, you’ve suffered more pain in your life than anyone could possibly endure.
“John?… Honey?”
He lets out one last slow gasp of air, then raises his head and looks down at her. She smiles sadly, then can’t help but cry with him. His face is drenched, and his eyes are bloodshot. She lifts her other arm towards him, and says simply, “Come here.”
“Ohhhhh, Doc,” John murmurs, his faltering voice full of emotion as he bends towards her. She pulls him close and moves to give him room so he can lay down beside her. When his face is next to hers, and his body close and warm, she runs her hand along his cheek to remove the tears that have saturated his skin. Then his own hand does the same for her. Both smile pensively, as they look into each other’s eyes.
“….So happy you’re okay,” he sighs, as his smile turns into a trembling frown. “Again, God’s answered my prayers.”
“Mine, too,” Marlena says in a hushed voice.
John closes his eyes, then burrows his face against her cheek and with his lips touching lightly against her skin, he whispers slowly, pronouncing each word with care, “I don’t know what I ever did to be worthy of a precious gift like you in my life, Doc… I don’t deserve you.”
Marlena shivers from the sensation of his mouth and hot breath encountering her skin. She tenses her neck and shoulder muscles, and draws away from him so she can see his face. Surveying his diluted silvery blue eyes, she can see plainly that he’s had no sleep. “John, you’re so tired… and you’re shaking. You haven’t eaten anything have you?”
He gives her half a smile, “I couldn’t sleep or eat… until I knew you were–” She quickly moves her finger to his lips to quiet him.
“You promise me you’ll go eat something. And take a nap. You’re no good to me if you faint from hunger and exhaustion.”
“Doc,” he says after removing her finger from his lips. “I’ll be fine. I’m just worried about *you*. You’ve been through hell. I’m sorry.” He touches her face ever so gently and stares into her eyes, feeling overcome with guilt and joy at the same time. He wants to kiss her. Savor her. Never spend another second of his life without her. Instinctually, without giving it thought, he slides his arm over her hip and up and around her, then glides his hand down the length of her back, stopping just before reaching her backside. Then, with his large hand centered in the arc of her lower back, he pulls her close and tight, moving his thigh slightly between her blanket-covered legs, then hooking her ankle with his boot heel. A flood of memories begin to surround him like a warm cocoon. All the nights they would fall asleep just this way back when they were married, and so happy. Why did that perfect dream have to end? Be stolen from them? He knows why… and he can’t bear to think about it all. Not now. Now he only wanted to relish this blissful feeling.
Marlena snuggles into his embrace, adjusting her leg slightly on top of his, ignoring the slight painful stretching of her stomach wound. For a time, they are lost in the comfort of this soothing, restorative cuddle. There is nothing but the sound of their breathing, and the harmonious beating of their hearts, for a long time. Their eyes remain locked; both arrested in a communion of silent understanding, where words are useless.
Then John breaks the trance, turning his gaze away from her suddenly and up to the ceiling. He pulls his arm from around her and places his hand over his eyes. “Marlena?”
“What?”
“Have you remembered anything yet?” he asks tentatively, not sure he wants to hear her answer.
She hesitates, knowing she’ll have to tell him about Kristen in a few moments.
“Oh, John,” she breathes. “Yes. I remember everything. Everything.”
“G*d….” he says full of dread. His hand goes to his mouth, covering it and the sound of his anguished moan.
His response surprises Marlena. She had expected him to be happy. He’d been so anxious to have her remember. Then it hits her. ‘He must know what I know,’ she realizes, stunned. ‘He knows it was Kristen that tried to kill me.’ She lifts herself up on her elbow and looks down at his face.
“John? You know? You know it was Kristen?” He doesn’t answer, just nods, and she sees he’s refusing to open his eyes. “John! Look at me,” she pleads. She pries his hand away from his mouth and he turns and looks up at her.
“Doc, I found her trying to smother you….”
“You did? John, that’s why I’m still here. You saved me, didn’t you?”
“Doc, it was *luck*,” he says wearily, feeling guilty again about doubting Sami’s statement. “I had this feeling that you were in danger… then, when I came to your room, I saw her. She tried to kill you again, and she almost did. She tried to deny it, but I saw her. I saw her! How could I have been so blind? I thought she was so good… so honest. But you knew didn’t you? I’m so sorry, Marlena. Please, forgive me!” He wants her to continue to hold him, but he knows she shouldn’t. She can’t possibly forgive him. She shouldn’t.
“Forgive *you*? John, none of this is *your* fault.”
“How can you say that? You almost died! Twice! She tried to *murder* you! The woman I was about to marry… tried to *kill* you!”
“Yes. But, that isn’t your fault. It’s Kristen’s!”
“Kristen!” He shouts out, with anger and misery. Then, with a sudden desire to get answers again, John turns and allows her to look at him. “Why, Doc? Why did she do this to you? Why didn’t I see it coming?” He shakes his head, his eyes burdened with confusion, and once again, tears, as he looks at the bandage on her head. He touches the gauze gently with the tips of his trembling fingers. Then Marlena takes them away and entwines them with her own.
“There is so much we need to talk about, John. I have to tell you everything.”
“Why did she try to kill you, Marlena? Why would she do that?”
“Ohhh, Honey. This is so hard. I can’t bear this… telling you this.” She closes her eyes and tries not to cry, then opens them and searches his face for the strength to tell him the truth.
“Tell me, Doc. Please, I need answers.”
Marlena takes a deep breath, and begins, “She came to my office, and we argued. Then I saw something….”
“Wait a minute. What were you arguing about?”
“You.”
“Me? Why?”
“Yes, you. We can talk about that after. There’s something you need to know first. It’s important….” Then, suddenly she can’t bear to look at his beseeching eyes.
“What is it? Marlena?” He sees she’s beginning to cry, and he can’t take any more. Again, she is suffering because of him. He pulls her head gently under his chin and wraps his arm around her tightly, desperately wanting to protect her from anything that may cause another ounce of pain.
“John,” she says softly against his neck. “Kristen is as evil as Stefano. She’s tricked you… over and over she’s deceived you.” John feels her weak voice quivering with growing affliction.
He shakes his head as she speaks, horrified that Marlena seems to have known long before finding out himself. What is going on? he wonders, questions assailing his mind, challenging his version of what his life has been. What is the truth?
Oh, G*d, he thinks, this is a *nightmare*.
“Shhhh, Doc… shhhh… you’re upset. You don’t have to say anything more. I’ll find Kristen and I’ll get the truth out of her. Shhhh, now….” he hushes her, trying to bypass the pain this is causing. He gathers her shaking body closer, sheltering her, and rocking her tenderly in his arms.
Crying, she asserts, “No, I *have* to tell you. It’s about the baby. Stefano and Kristen… they…. Oh, they’re so wicked… wooooo, so evil.” Marlena shudders, and John girds her more tightly to him. His stomach drops at her words, feeling distress at the realization that she has apparently been hiding her knowledge about Kristen, and probably keeping silent to save him the painful truth.
“Kristen must have miscarried, John. I don’t know when… probably in Paris. Then she just–she pretended to be pregnant. John, I’m so sorry, but that baby….”
“Isn’t mine.” His voice is leaden with acknowledgment of the truth. Truth he has known himself, but still couldn’t seem to fathom. But now, hearing Marlena crying as she tells him, it settles in as fact. His child is dead. He removes his arms from around her, pulling back, then taking her head in his hands, he says, “You found out, didn’t you, and that’s why she tried to kill you, isn’t it?” He knew the answer and saw the truth in her eyes.
“You know? About the baby? How?” she asks, surprised.
He looks into her inquisitive eyes and says wearily, “Doesn’t matter…” Then he pauses for a moment, just looking at her beautiful face. He’s overwhelmed with sadness and guilt. “Doc,” he begins, but can’t finish. His head still full of questions, he doesn’t want to burden her further with them. He wants to go to the *source*. He wants to strangle the answers out of Kristen. He wants to know how she could lie, steal, conspire with Stefano, and most of all try to take from this world the person she knew meant so much to him. The mother of his precious daughter, Belle. And the single person in the world he would die for in a split second.
The anger begins to grow, and shadow the pain.
Marlena feels John’s whole body tense, and sees his eyes deaden and go cold.
“John?”
“Doc, listen….” he says as he rolls off the bed. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He absently adjusts his gun harness, pulling the gun out and checking it. This scares Marlena and brings back the pain in her head.
“Get some rest,” he instructs her, then bends and kisses her forehead ardently. Somehow, he feels, that after he takes care of Stefano and Kristen, he will be able to look at her and feel less pain and guilt. Then, maybe somehow, he will be worthy of her forgiveness. He smiles at her and heads toward the door.
Marlena can’t bear to let him out of her sight. She feels her blood pressure rise instantly and fear explode inside her as she watches him leave, knowing by the look on his face and his body language, that he has reached an impasse. The limit. He won’t come back until he has put an end to Stefano… and Kristen. And her fear is that he will die trying to achieve that end.
“John. Don’t leave….”
He stops, seeing her arm outstretched towards him, her eyes begging. “Please, don’t go!”
“Oh, Marlena….”
The fear inside her comes from so many lonely, frightened moments being kept from those she loves. Not knowing if she’ll ever be able to see them, to touch them, to hold them. It’s the fear of a thousand nightmares. So, when Marlena sees John about to leave her again, she can’t allow it.
She can see him struggling with his need to go and find Kristen and Stefano, and with his desire to stay with her. Crying, she implores him silently with her eyes not to go.
John can’t refuse her. He never could.
“Oh, Doc.” Going to her, he takes her hand. She pulls it up to her lips and kisses it. He can feel her fear and knows it’s because of all she has been through. So many painful memories. So many separations. And once again he’s overwhelmed with admiration of her strength. He leans over her and whispers in her ear. “I *will* be back. I’ll be okay. I promise you.”
“No,” she says, “Stefano won’t let you win, John. Remember Paris? He’s a monster and he will kill you. I can’t bear that. I can’t. Please let Abe handle it.” But, she knows he’s made up his mind, and her words are a mere formality. It’s apparent in the staunchness of his voice and the storm in his eyes.
Silently, as he wipes away her tears and presses his lips tenderly on each of her eyes, she tries her hardest to smile.
“I need answers Marlena. Can you understand that?” He asks, then pauses a moment. “Hey, look, you’re so tired. You’ve been through so much. I want you to rest and regain your strength. Your children need you to be strong. And I need to make things right, once and for all, if possible.”
“It isn’t possible, don’t you see that? He always wins! It’s pointless.” She turns away, knowing her words are wasted breath.
“He’s NOT going to win this time, Doc! Abe’s got him surrounded and I want to be there when he goes down.” ‘And kill him if I get the chance,’ he notes to himself.
All she can do is shake her head, until a voice interrupts them.
“Hey, John… Marlena,” Mikes says as he enters the room. John moves aside, letting go of Marlena’s hand.
Mike looks at his patient and sees she’s been crying. “Everything okay? I only have a few more tests to run on you, Marlena, then you can go back to your room.”
“That’s great news, Mike,” John says, smiling. He looks at Marlena and sees she’s still upset. “Isn’t that great, Doc?”
Marlena looks at Mike, and says, “Mike, will you tell John to eat something and get some rest? He won’t listen to me.”
“Yes, of course, he should do that. He hasn’t slept since all this happened to you. And he’s had a lot to deal with. He’s been under a great deal of stress. So, yes, I think he’d better do that.” Mike folds his arms across his chest with authority, knowing he is pleasing Marlena. “I think maybe you should go to Marlena’s room and I’ll send a meal up and you can take a nap while you wait for her. She’ll be done in less than an hour. What do you say?”
Marlena perks up, hoping John will listen to Mike. She stares at him intently, waiting for his response. John’s head is tilted, as he contemplates his options. She decides to push a little. “I know that I said I liked your beard, John, but you really need to shave it. And you *really* need a shower, honey, no offense, but you stink to high heaven,” Marlena states, her lips curling with subtle teasing.
Mike laughs loudly. “Good point, Marlena,” he says, as John turns to glare at him.
“So, what you’re saying is I’m not exactly at my best right now?”
“To be blunt, yes,” she laughs, joining Mike.
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint… but I don’t have any clean clothes here.”
Mike, getting even for the smack John had given him previously, whacks him across the back, and says, “I can get you some, pal. I’ll send them to the room.” As he leaves the room, Mike calls, “I’ll be right back, Marlena… for those tests.”
“Right,” she says, then looks at John who’s smiling at her.
“You always get your way, don’t you, Doc?”
She winks at him, then yawns. A happy calm washes her fears away, as he brushes her hair off her forehead, then kisses it.
“I’ll be waiting for you, but then I *am* going to find Kristen and her rat father.”
“We’ll see,” she smiles. Then, looking at him seriously, she says, “John, promise me you’ll be there when I come won’t you? There’s so much we have to talk about, so much more you need to know.”
He grabs her hand, intrigued by her words. “Well, Doc, now you’ve got my attention.” He kisses her hand and places it gently down across her wounded abdomen. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
When John enters Marlena’s hospital room, he flashes again on the horrifying scene he’d interrupted there. Kristen’s body holding a pillow over Marlena’s head… trying to snuff the life out of his beloved Doc. ‘Oh, god, how could she be so evil? How could I be so blind?’ he assails himself.
Realizing that Marlena was more than right, he did need a shower and shave, he enters her bathroom. He slides off his gun holster, and drops it on the floor, and unbuttons his shirt. As he’s doing this he catches a glimpse of his face in the mirror over the sink. He’s struck instantly with the physical reality of what he’s been through in the past couple of days. As he pulls his shirt over his shoulders it rips away at the dried cuts he’d gotten when falling in the street the other morning when the whole nightmare began.
And the wounds begin bleeding all over again.
Abe’s men surround the perimeters of the hidden airstrip. He’s becoming concerned because there are no signs of movement within the area they have encompassed. Have we been sent on a wild goose chase? he wonders. Then, suddenly, as he’s about to order his men to slowly move in, there are bright lights in the far distance.
From out of nowhere seemingly, and from out of the silence of the dense woods, the sound and lights of a helicopter rise up slowly. Abe hollers to his men for it to be stopped, realizing it’s an impossibility. They are not prepared for this. He cusses and kicks the dirt under his feet.
As the pounding water slams against his skin, John fights to have a peaceful moment. But his head is full of disturbing images and thoughts. He still has no answers for the confounding events that have transpired. Kristen losing the baby and lying about it. Pretending to be pregnant. ‘How could I not have known?’ he asks, kicking himself mentally for lacking any insight into her deceit. How does a man live with a woman who is supposed to be pregnant, and not realize she’s faking? How is that possible? He has no explaination for his naivete.
Then there’s Marlena. She found out about Kristen faking the pregnancy, then Kristen tried to KILL her. But what were they fighting about in the first place? It seemed like he must have been playing the fool for quite a long time. The problem was that he knew he was a fool, but didn’t know about what. That made him a fool extraordinaire, it seemed. The King of Fools.
He gives himself another kick.
Overcome with the knowledge of his culpability in the attack on Marlena, John becomes full of anger towards himself and the woman he thought he loved. He will get answers from her. Nobody will get away with hurting Marlena and not paying. Kristen will pay, somehow. And so will her evil father. It isn’t just revenge he’s after. It’s justice. Pure and true.
As these intrusive, obsessive thoughts take control of his entire consciousness, he tries to wash them away by turning off most of the cold water and letting the hot water sear his skin.
His hatred for Stefano curdles his blood and the more he becomes enraged the more out of control he feels.
“I’ll kill you old man! I’ll kill you!” he roars, and slams off the water. “I WILL KILL YOU!” Then like a wall crushing down on him, he slumps to the shower floor and releases all the pain and anger in grief filled, anguished sobs.
After her tests, Marlena feels exhausted, but happy. Soon she’ll be telling John the whole truth about Kristen. And best of all, she’ll tell him what she’s wanted to tell him for so long. That she loves him.
She knows that, together, they will be able to survive this nightmare. They will be able to have the life together, with their children, that they deserve.
“Well, Marlena, sorry to keep you up so late with these tests, but I wanted to get it taken care of so you can get out of here and back to your room where you can rest better. How do you feel?”
“Well, now Mike, I’ve had better days… better weeks for that matter. Even better years.”
Mike nods his head. “No doubt. So, lets get you on your way,” he says. “I’ll arrange for your transfer. Take it easy, now, okay. I’ll be checking in on you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Mike,” she says, winking at him. “For everything.”
After getting out of the shower, John finds Mike did as he said he would, and had someone put a stack of clothes, and a disposable shaving kit, on the chair next to Marlena’s bed, along with a very unappetizing looking tray of food. When he has finished shaving off his beard, and putting on the maroon boxers, white t-shirt, black socks, pair of jeans, and simple white cotton shirt, he notices Marlena’s suitcase has been set on the floor at the foot of her bed. ‘So,’ he thinks, ‘someone found it, and brought it here.’ He faintly recalls having dropped it somewhere along this nightmare.
He hoists it up onto her bed, and unzips it, deciding he’ll unpack for her, to get her settled in.
While she waits to be brought to her room, Marlena suddenly feels chilled, so she pulls her covers up around her chin and closes her eyes. Slowly, she can’t help but fall asleep, deeply among her hopeful dreams of freedom. Like a bird she will fly, soaring with the truth, both her and John. Forever free from the lies and evil that have entrapped them for so long.
As she flutters her eyes, and sails under the peaceful curtain of slumber, she takes John’s hand and they fly away.
John chews on a cold slab of turkey from the hospital meal as he lifts an armful of clothes out of the case. Then, as he’s carrying them to the dresser something slides out of the bundle of silky garments and drops to the ground with a thud. He places the batch of clothes in the drawer and bends to retrieve it. When he realizes, instantly what it is, he almost drops it. It’s Marlena’s diary. The one she kept in the cage, and that he last saw her with at the hospital in Paris. He remembers she’d been crying then….
Holding it, his heart starts beating with haste and he feels sweat breaking out of all his pores. He clutches it to his chest and sits on the edge of the bed, exhales forcefully, and runs his hand across the soft leather cover.
“Oh, Doc. Why do I feel so much of what I need to know now is in here?” he says in a soft whisper. He knows he can’t open it and invade her privacy, so he sets her still full suitcase on the ground and stretches out on her bed to rest. Wrapping his arms around himself, with the journal next to his heart, he decides he’ll wait for her, not realizing that in seconds he’ll be fast asleep.
Stefano grins despite the torment his ears are enduring. A screaming baby and the thrashing of the helicopter rotor blades assault him as he strains to see the ground where they’re landing. He’s feeling *almighty*, having escaped the pitiful Salem police yet once again.
He looks at Kristen who is trying unsuccessfully to calm the wailing infant. He has already forgiven her for harming Marlena. What was the alternative? He knows he will not have to worry about her much longer. He’ll find her a palace of her own, where she can raise the baby if she wants and find some kind of happiness. What he won’t do for her, he knows, is let her have John Black again. That was a fatal mistake, based on his own selfish motives. No, his enemy had done enough damage to both of them. John Black was history.
John wakes suddenly, in a cold sweat, still clenching the diary to his chest, his teeth chattering. He’s been asleep for about half an hour, but he feels hours have passed. As he sits up, trying to focus his brain and blinking his eyes to see clearly, he realizes Marlena hasn’t arrived yet.
Quickly, as panic soon takes over, he jumps down and jams the journal inside his shirt. He grabs his gun from the shoulder holster lying in the chair with his dirty clothes and tucks it in the back of his jeans, then pulls his boots and jacket on.
“Where are you Doc?” he mumbles as he darts from her room.
When he gets to the ICU, his worst fears are realized when he sees a commotion in the hallway. Some nurses are standing around Mike, who is rubbing his head. As soon as he sees John, he pushes past them and begins to explain that just minutes ago, he’d caught a suspicious man pushing an unconscious Marlena in a wheelchair, in the opposite direction of her room, toward the elevators. When he’d asked the man what he was doing, he’d punched Mike and hit him over the head.
“I couldn’t get my balance to go after….”
“Get Abe, Mike!” John knows he doesn’t have much time, so he sprints through the crowd and down the hall as fast as he can. Then he plows through the front doors and into the cold air. He sees and hears nothing, just the stillness and silence of the harsh white snow that covers everything.
“Doc!” His voice cracks against the heavy sky, as he shouts desperately and continues to run into the night.
“Doc! Marlena!”
Then the darkness envelopes him completely as the butt of a revolver smacks against his skull. No one sees the trail in the snow, as his body’s dragged away into the quiet predawn.
She turns her head to look at John again and sees he’s smiling at her. She hasn’t seen him this happy in such a long time. The warm wind rushes through their hair and across their faces. Her heart feels light and free as they sail above the clouds.
“Isn’t this great, Doc?”
“Amazing!” she shouts joyfully. “I feel so alive, and free!”
“No one can touch us here, Marlena! I love you! Forever and always!”
“I love you, too! Forever! And always!”
He grabs her hand tightly and they soar even higher–the sun on their backs and the whole world at their feet.
Suddenly, Marlena feels John’s hand slowly slip from hers and she tries to claim it back, but before she knows it, his hand has vanished along with the rest of him. His spirit is gone, and she’s flying solo.
“John!” she cries, as she begins to tailspin out of control…. “John!”
Before crashing, she opens her eyes into another kind of nightmare. One all too familiar. She continues to cry out for John when she sees who’s trying to shake her from her dream. Stefano’s big clumsy hands attached to her shoulders, she screams, hoping to wake up again. In John’s arms.
Stagnant air greets John’s nostrils as an acute pain in his side rouses him from unconsciousness. His agonized cry can’t be heard because of the duct tape across his mouth, and the steady drone of an engine, yet he continues his muffled wail. He can’t see anything, though his eyes aren’t covered. He can’t move his limbs because his hands are bound behind his back, and his ankles are secured together.
Barely able to breathe, sweat coursing from every pore, and in a groggy state, he panics, thinking he must’ve been shot. But once he shifts himself onto his back, his weight now off the point in his ribs where the pain was radiating, the discomfort disappears. Then, he can feel it. The slight weight of Marlena’s diary resting on the side of his stomach, tucked partially inside his jeans. ‘How did those bastards miss seeing that?’ he wonders, thanking God they did. He wants desperately to hold it. Just to feel a bit of solace from the agony of wondering if she’s alright. ‘Where are you, Doc? Are you okay?’ Then taking a moment to consider what he’s just pondered, he chides himself for asking such malignant questions. ‘Of course she’s not okay, you idiot… she’s been kidnaped again by Stefano DiMera! And it’s all your fault! You left her vulnerable, and now she’s gone and you’re helpless to do anything!’
Concentrating on filling his lungs with the stale air surrounding him, John begins to get some bearing on where he is. Besides it feeling like a space that’s hot and cramped, it’s blacker than a moonless night. But the obvious clues that lead him to believe he’s in an airplane, probably the luggage compartment, is the muffled roar of the engine, and the vibration and movement he felt underneath him.
‘Dear Lord! Oh, GOD, please help me!’ he pleads desperately to the only one that can hear him.
As a spate of sweat permeates his entire body, drenching his clothes and hair, John fights a losing battle to free himself from his bindings and the choking claustrophobia bearing down on him.
Marlena fights against Stefano’s attempt to hold her down. She digs her fingernails into his big arms as hard as she can. “You’re not going to do this to me again!” she screams. “I won’t let you! You monster!”
“Father, make her shut up! The baby!” Kristen whines, as the infant begins stirring in her arms.
“Marlena… Marlena….” Stefano says over and over, trying to calm her. When she’s finally able to sit up, she cries out in pain. Her head is throbbing and the healing wounds of her abdomen ache with a dull consistency.
“Marlena, there’s nowhere for you to go. Please, lay down, you *must* rest,” Stefano implores her, but she continues to beat on him.
“You won’t! You won’t do this to me again!”
“Please, calm down,” he begs, while ducking from her swings.
Inside, Marlena’s feeling the panic rise. Seeing that they’re in an airplane heading to somewhere unknown… far from Salem, her family, and John, she knows that she will do whatever she has to do to escape, or die trying. She can’t believe this is happening to her again. She won’t spend the rest of her life away from her family. Too much time has been lost already, and she vows to herself that she’ll lose no more. *Dead* would be the only way Stefano would have her.
Her adversary motions for his hired nurse to sedate her, but Marlena slugs Stefano with all her might, and she sits up fully. She looks over at Kristen sitting across from her, holding the baby. The nurse backs away.
“Stefano, you might as well let your daughter finish the job she did on me, because there’s no way I’ll be your prisoner again!”
Kristen gives Marlena a deadly glare, then smirks at her. “I wish he would let me, you bitch! Nothing would make me happier than to have you dead! But, my blind father seems to *love* you, so that’s good enough for me. He can have you! And I’ll have John!”
“Kristen, be quiet!” Stefano shouts, his impatience and shame inflamed.
“Have John? John hates you, Kristen! He knows about your little scheme to pass off that woman’s baby as his!”
“He knows?” Kristen asks, then accuses, “well, of course! You couldn’t wait to tell him everything!”
“I didn’t have to tell him anything! And besides, you revealed your true self when he caught you trying to kill me!”
Kristen grits her teeth and scrunches up her face, scowling at Marlena. “If only he hadn’t stopped me from ending your miserable life!” She starts to sob and wail like a baby, waking the one she holds in her lap.
“How could you do it, Kristen? How could you try to kill me, just to keep your pathetic hold on a man? You’re insane!” Marlena gasps, then looks at Stefano. “The apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree!” Then she turns away in disgust and looks out the window, clutching her middle, where the pain seems to keep increasing like the pounding in her head. She doesn’t know why she is wasting her breath on such an evil pair.
“Kristen!” Stefano bellows. He stands up, faces her, and pounds his chest. “I do NOT want to hear you talking like that! I will not have you speaking to Marlena at all! As soon as we land, you’re going to be heading in another direction. You better forget about John, and any revenge against Marlena!” He points to the map he’d given her and says, “Now find the spot you want to spend the rest of your life!”
“Stop shouting at me!” Kristen protests. “I told you, I’m staying with you!”
“No, no… you are not!”
“Well, Stefano, I guess you’re little girl has shown you her true colors. And, surprise, you’re both the exact same shade! You must be so proud.” Marlena charges, then she grabs her head to try to repress the throbbing pain. “Ohhh, g*d!”
“What is it Marlena?” Stefano asks, sitting back down next to her. She looks at him through anguished eyes as she cradles her aching head, then spits at him. He stands quickly, wiping his face, and calls out, “Sedate her!”
“Where are you taking me this time, you bastard!?” She’s suddenly overcome with the nauseating feeling that everything’s lost. She begins to cry uncontrollably. And as the nurse approaches, she lets her inject the drug without a struggle, feeling that sleep will be her only escape at the moment. Before she passes out, she looks into Stefano’s eyes and tries to communicate her complete hatred of him. “Wherever you’re taking me, Stefano DiMera, will be the place where one of us dies….”
John can’t seem to slow his rapid heartbeat. He tries to picture Marlena’s face in his mind, but it just won’t materialize. The faces that keep entering his consciousness are those of Stefano and Kristen, and the more they invade his mind, the more his anger and hatred rises like bile. It becomes all consuming and causes his breathing to quicken and his stomach to tie up in knots.
As the anxiety builds, he feels like he’s drowning. Being held prisoner as often as he has in the short time he remembers of his life, he now caustically wishes the feeling would get easier to take, but this time it feels like the worst. He feels beaten both mentally and physically, and somehow it doesn’t help knowing that this time most of it is his own fault.
Soon the sound and vibrations of the engine, along with the lack of air and light, his inability to move, and his increasing hunger and thirst, all begin to be too much for him to bear and he starts to thrash his bound limbs, and head in frustration and anger.
As he becomes utterly exhausted, the small amount of air he can inhale through his nose isn’t enough, and he passes out. His unconscious body finally at rest in the small confines of the luggage compartment of Stefano’s luxury jet, John no longer has to struggle. Instead, his mind travels to a more peaceful place. He dreams of a time at the very beginning of his life… his face is wrapped tightly in bandages and an angel opens the door and walks in.
Abe sits way back in his chair and crosses his ankles on top of his desk. He’s reviewing the past day in his mind, trying to figure it all out. He doesn’t have clue one about where *anyone* is. Marlena’s been taken from the hospital. John disappeared into thin air shortly after that . . . And he congratulates himself on doing a knock-up job letting Stefano and Kristen slip through the net he’d cast. He’s getting a massive headache. ‘That retirement package is looking damn good right now,’ he thinks.
Then there’s the nun who keeps calling. She’d explained everything, and kept demanding that they find the baby and return him to his *real* mother. Abe can’t comprehend the whole maddening story. It’s just too unbelievable, even for him, someone who had years of dealing with DiMera plots and schemes. He’s beginning to believe that Stefano *is* invincible–defying the very laws of nature, again and again.
Angrily, Abe pulverizes the fax he’d gotten from the FBI. It basically told him there was no sign of the helicopter that they’d seen Stefano disappear in last night, and no sign of any other plane, train, or automobile that may have served as the final mode of escape. He looks at the ball of paper, grimaces, and whips it across the room, where it lands effortlessly into the wastebasket to lie among other crumpled false leads.
He hopes desperately that John’s caught up with DiMera, somehow… where he himself hadn’t been able to. But, the more time that elapses, the more he fears John’s in as much trouble as Marlena. If John hasn’t caught up with DiMera, maybe Stefano has caught up to him. His car was left in the hospital parking lot, and nothing was found when they dusted and searched it, and there was no sign of John’s presence inside or out. Abe knew what that meant. He prays John’s still alive, and if he *is*… and if he *could*… he knows his friend will do anything to save Marlena. But Abe also prays John won’t do anything foolish… like getting himself killed.
Dropping his legs back onto the ground, he slams his fist onto the metal desk and once again dials the phone. Someone has to know something. He’ll find out, so help him God. Then, as he puts the phone to his ear, he watches as his beautiful wife, Lexie, walks through the door and over to his desk. Seeing he’s on the phone, she quietly leans over the organized mess and gives him a kiss. He smiles faintly and takes her hand, tenderly squeezing her small fingers.
John’s body rolls over violently and slams into whatever he’d been lying next to for the entire flight. His face crashes into the hard surface and he breaks out of his unconscious state to the sound of his nose cracking. He screams into the tape across his mouth, and is delighted to feel the tape is slipping. Then he feels blood dripping from his nose, down his chin and curling around his neck. He drops back down onto his back and realizes he can’t feel his hands. They’re beyond numb. As he shifts onto his side, his hair slaps across his face dripping with sweat, and he feels Marlena’s diary once again jab him in the ribs. This time it causes him pleasure, not pain–remembering its blessed presence. As he whips his hair back, he notes bleakly that the air inside the compartment has become oppressively humid.
Lying there trying to breath normally, which was getting harder and harder to accomplish again, John notices the absence of the sound of the plane’s engines. The stillness is eerie. He closes his eyes and lets his ears search for noise. Anything to give him a clue. After about a minute of absolute silence, he hears pounding, and what sounds to him like people walking.
Oh, God where am I?
The sounds of activity increase as John waits for someone to free him from the dark, suffocating space he occupies. He wants to bang his feet against something to make noise, alerting *whoever*, that he’s there, but he changes his mind when he thinks maybe somehow he can escape when they open the door. Instead, he begins working the tape off by stretching his mouth. Over and over he opens and closes his mouth, each time feeling the tape detaching slowly but surely with the help of the moisture from his perspiring skin.
As his breathing once again becomes ragged, he starts to feel nauseous, and prays he won’t vomit before he gets the tape off, because then he’s dead for sure.
Stefano doesn’t know that Marlena has awaken from her drugged sleep. Though she’s feeling incredible pain in her head, and sweating now from the muggy air, she fights her urge to cry out and continues to play the sleeping captive, facing away from her enemies. She’d come around about the time the plane’s wheels screeched to a stop. Again, it was like waking up into a nightmare. She can hear Stefano talking to Kristen in loud, harsh tones, and she responding in kind. Marlena listens intently as Kristen is trying to convince Stefano to let her stay with him.
“Maybe you should go be with Peter,” Stefano suggests testily. “He could use your help in his recovery, and I would know you were with family!”
‘Oh, my Lord,’ Marlena thinks, ‘Peter. He’s not dead! How can that be?’
“You’re family! You’re all I have left besides Peter! And do I have to remind you that it’s because of you I lost my mother!” she shouts, slathering on the guilt. “No! I want to stay here with you! I’ve had enough of Europe! Peter will do just fine without me. I need some peace… I need a beach! I need time to recoup from all the stress I’ve been under! And I need to figure out how I’m going to get John back! How *you’re* going to get him back *for* me!” Kristen’s shrill voice makes Marlena shiver as she recalls how that same annoying voice had been tormenting her for the past year.
“Kristen, keep your voice down, please….” Stefano urges, as Kristen continues, ignoring his plea.
“Why don’t you have Peter come here?! He’d do wonderfully in this climate, and he loves it here!” She pauses for a moment, and Marlena can hear her stomp her feet. Then she continues, as the baby begins to wail, “Frankly, Stefano, I don’t care what the hell you say, I’m staying! Now, get out of my way!”
“Dammit!” Stefano roars, making Marlena flinch. Then she jumps when she hears the sound of his powerful hand slap Kristen’s flesh. “You’ve pushed me too far, Kristen! Don’t you speak to me like that! I’m your father! You will not….”
Kristen shrieks, then starts to cry in breathless spurts. Then all there is, is the steadfast crying of the baby. Marlena chokes back tears at the sound.
Suddenly Kristen stops blubbering and Marlena can tell she must be picking up the baby. “Here!” Kristen screeches. “You can have this rotten baby back! I don’t want it now that I know John knows the truth! Give it back to that… that… dumb *mutt* you got it from! Thanks for *nothing*! Now, I’m getting off this plane, and you better arrange for a shipment of my things to arrive soon!”
“Kristen!” Stefano calls as Marlena feels Kristen brush past her. Next, she hears him muttering as he comes near her. Then she feels his big hand on her arm, stroking it gently, and she has to fight the urge to recoil.
“Shhh, now little one,” Stefano says to the baby. “I can’t tolerate this much longer… Hans! Hans!”
“Yes, Mr. DiMera?
“Please, help my daughter get to the estate, and give the child to Karen, and arrange for her flight back to Salem with him. Tell her to take him to University Hospital, and leave him there–without being seen. Understood?”
“Yes. Right away, Sir. What about….”
“Just do as I say,” Stefano grumbles. Seconds later Marlena feels his alcohol coated breath on her face, as he whispers, “My sleeping Queen… Marlena. I’m so sorry… for all this madness with Kristen. She won’t be bothering us.” Then Marlena hears both men leave the cabin with the still crying baby. She slowly raises her head and sees she’s alone. Then she looks out the window and notices that they’re on a large paved runway, and beyond it is green for as far as her eyes can see. Rising monumentally into the intensely blue sky are palm trees and below, a labyrinth of dark, tangled jungle vegetation.
“Oh, my God. Oh… no… no,” She whispers despairingly, and her heart sinks. ‘I’m probably halfway around the world, and I’ll never see Belle… or Sami….’ she frets. Suddenly she feels herself yielding to the overwhelming encroachment of hopelessness. She feels like the air is getting too thick to breath, and she’s beginning to gasp and choke as she witnesses the scene outside.
Stefano is talking to three large men, pointing and bellowing, while several others mill about. She wants to wretch looking at him, knowing she might have to kill him, or suffer his unwanted, deranged obsession with her. She sees Kristen inside one of three black all-terrain vehicles, just as it begins to drive away. Then she looks past them and sees a helicopter, and past that, a camouflage painted airplane hangar off to the side. All the rest was a massive jungle forest. She closes her eyes and prays to God to help her survive this, because she’s so tired, and all alone. Not John, or anyone else, was ever going to find her here. ‘Dear Lord, I don’t know if I have the strength….’ she thinks.
Marlena sits up and feels herself start to panic as she watches Stefano ordering people around–hatching his wicked plans for her. She doesn’t know if she has the strength, but she *does* know she won’t let him just take her without a fight… because she meant what she’d said: she would rather die. But, if she can just get away before he even has a chance to drag her to some hideaway in the jungle…. She looks at the open door leading outside, then swings her legs over the side of the bed, and steps onto the jet’s carpeted floor and shuffles across the aisle to the emergency exit. She works on the handle with all her strength, and just as she gets it to budge, she feels a mighty grip on her upper arm and is swung around.
John feels lightheaded, and as his eyes began to roll back, he’s brought back to life by a sound that pierces his entire, exhausted being. Shocked, he draws in a sudden, jagged breath as the sound of Marlena’s shouting makes the hairs on his neck stand up. ‘Oh, my God! She’s here!’ he screams inside, as he listens to Marlena’s anguished, bewailing cry. He’s both furious and overjoyed to know she’s here – wherever *here* is. All he can think is he has to get to her. He has to help her. ‘Oh, God!’ He begins to struggle against his bindings, then kicking and slamming his body against the objects beside him. ‘Hold on baby!’
Stefano has Marlena tight in his powerful grip as he pleads with her to calm down. But Marlena can’t stop the almost involuntary screams that make their way from deep inside. Then his crew of sycophants are surrounding them and they silence her despite her kicking and biting.
“Don’t hurt her, you bums! Be careful!” Stefano orders as he marshals them off the plane and onto the runway.
John’s fighting like mad only a close distance away. Moving his mouth in quick motions he finally feels the sweat soaked slab of tape fall slowly away from his face.
“Daaa… Doc!” he screams hoarsely. He sits up quickly and continues to call to her. “Marlenaaaaa!”
Outside, every head turns simultaneously as the roaring sound of John’s voice pierces through the fuselage of the plane and into their ears. Stefano’s face turns beet red and he pivots deliberately to look at Marlena, who’s widened eyes sing with joy. The man who was holding his hand over her mouth drops it at the sudden sound, and Marlena wastes no time before answering her love’s cries.
A painful smile breaks across John’s face as he hears Marlena’s sweet voice in the distance call out his name. As weak sobs mix with his desperate, rasping shouts, John collapses onto the floor in agony. He could hear her, but she might as well have been on the moon. He bangs his head in frustration at his powerlessness, and her defenselessness.
Marlena gives Stefano a deadly stare through her tears as his men hustle her inside the vehicle.
“Doc! Be strong, Doc! I’m coming!” Then he hears the sound of what seems like a fleet of car doors slamming, then the screeching of tires, and he knows she won’t be able to hear him anymore. As the realization that she’s gone hits him, he gives up the struggle, closes his eyes, and vows to do whatever he has to do to find her and bring her home – even if it kills him. Then there’s a whoosh of air and light invades the space and blinds him as he tries to see who stands holding the hatch open.
Squinting into the blazing light, John tries to position his body in a defensive posture, but before he can, he’s being pulled by his ankles toward that light. Then he’s dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. He groans and looks up into the face that’s blocking the sun.
“Stefano,” he grunts, finally face to do to face with the ghost from the garden.
“Why do you do stupid things like that?”
John laughs corrosively, “She wasn’t suppose to know I was here was she?”
Stefano pauses thoughtfully, then retorts, “Actually, it doesn’t matter, John. Whether Marlena knows I brought you here is irrelevant to the fact that you’re going to die.”
“What? *Again*?”
Both men’s laughter rises and echoes into the blanket of vegetation surrounding them.
Stefano’s haughty stance towers over John, shadowing him from the fierce tropical sun. Arms folded across his massive chest, he can’t stop crowing long after John’s own scathing laughter has abated. He’s enjoying this last *sortie*, of sorts, with his rival, however inequable it is.
John groans and turns onto his side so that Stefano can’t see Marlena’s diary.
“You know, I have to say I’ve been quite disappointed in you these past months, John,” Stefano cackles. He points at his temple and says, “I can’t believe what a *cretin* you’ve become.” Then he shrugs, and in a mocking tone laughs, “Well, it happens I guess, even to the best and brightest. Even to former police commanders! Ha! A pitiful turn, I must say… and a bit disappointing for *me*. I’ve always enjoyed the *tit for tat* we’ve engaged in. Now it’s all tit and no tat. No challenge for me, and, hardly *fun*.”
“Where have you taken Marlena? I want to see her!” John demands gruffly.
Stefano walks slowly to the opposite end of John’s sweat soaked body, and bends over to sneer down into his adversaries’ strained, agitated face.
Ignoring John’s question, he continues, “I’ve truly been amazed, John, at all you were willing to swallow just to keep your pathetic little boat from sinking. How many times you must’ve been duped. You don’t even know the half of it. My gawd, John, how does a man not know his wife isn’t really pregnant?” As if to ponder the impossible, Stefano puts his hand to his chin, pausing for a moment before going on. “So, checkmate again, haw, John? You *die*, and I get the beautiful Dr. Evans.”
John’s mind is too clouded and too full of anxiety to comprehend all that the man was saying. All he can do, is listen vacantly to Stefano’s taunting diatribe. Because, inside there’s a storm brewing. He’s starting to feel like he’s either going to pass out or explode.
Then Stefano steps away from John and begins whispering to two of his henchmen. When he sees they aren’t looking at him, John quickly sucks in his stomach and uses his chest, chin, and shoulder to tuck Marlena’s diary farther down into his jeans. When it’s almost completely hidden, he straightens out and sighs in relief. He can’t allow Stefano to take it away from him. If only for the comfort he feels with it against him.
After minutes just lying there on the pavement trying to free his limbs, John looks around and surveys the surroundings. This isn’t Kansas, and it sure isn’t Salem. One of the old man’s islands no doubt, he notes to himself with umbrage.
“Come on Stefano!” John shouts, his raspy voice deep and full of fury.
Growing impatient, he doesn’t know what’s in store for him, but he feels *desperate* to get out of his bindings. Desperate to find Marlena, to see her again. Because if he’s never going to see her again… if he’s never going to be able to tell her how sorry he was for letting all of this happen again, then he will welcome DiMera’s death sentence.
John begins to thrash his body about furiously, and soon watches one of the guards stomp over and place a swift kick to his hip.
“Knock if off!”
As John ignores the request, and continues, he suddenly screams with full force, wanting to release an overwhelming sense of turbulence in his body and mind. His eyes flash wildly, and sweat seethes from every inch of skin. Then everything changes.
Suddenly the sky darkens and a cool breeze swells. Sensing her presence, John shifts and, with his arms bound behind him, sits up like a puppet on a string. He turns his head slowly, and with a thunderstruck look on his face he watches in wonderment as Marlena steps out of the dense forest and walks across the runway towards him with her arms outstretched. She looks like a harbinger of God, with a messianic halo of light surrounding her, and a shimmering white gown covering her graceful body. As her golden hair flies in the rush of the wind like the fluttering wings of a dove, she moves towards him like she’s floating on the warm ocean breeze.
“Doc!” he calls, with a relieved look of joy scrambling across his face. Then he groans as he realizes he can’t reach out for her. As she moves closer, within inches, he loses his breath. Then he flounders as she passes right through him. He grimaces as he turns and watches her continue on her procession until she’s standing in front of Stefano.
“No, Doc! Marlena… can’t you see me?” he squalls. “Marlena, noooo!” Then he screams noiselessly as he watches her begin to kiss his enemy passionately. As Stefano picks her up and holds her in his arms, continuing to kiss her, John fumbles about and falls as he tries to stand up.
“What the hell’s the matter with him?” Stefano barks, as he watchs John swerve and fall.
“You’re a dead man! YOU ARE A DEAD MAN!” John hisses maniacally, his eyes frenetic and burning with rage and misery.
Stefano makes his way over to his prisoner and watchs in amazement as John’s face contorts into that of a madman. Then he sees John sit up again and seem to look past him at something, with *fear* now swimming in his eyes. Stefano, bemused, turns and sees nothing but forest where John’s eyes are riveted.
His parched throat is scarcely able to make a sound, yet John fights to cry as loudly as he can, “Come here, Belle! Come to Daddy, baby girl! Don’t go that way…. Come here!” Stefano’s intrigued by John’s pleading words. “No, no, no, no… don’t Belle! Don’t go in there! This way, Belle. Come to Daddy!”
Exhausted, John collapses heavily onto the ground, panting and sweating profusely. “Belle…. please, come back,” he moans, his face and hoarse voice full of distress and panic.
The smile on Stefano’s face curls up on the left side, but his eyes aren’t laughing. They’re squinting with confusion as he watches John Black calling out to people who are nowhere near. Then he sees John begin to shake with tremors, and his eyes begin to roll back in his head. Realizing that it isn’t an act, he takes action.
“Quick, get him to the hangar!” DiMera orders as he pulls out his phone.
The eyes staring back at her are dark and menacing. She stops struggling against the strong grip the man has of her entire body, then she stops biting at the calloused hand compressing down across her mouth. After a few moments, as Marlena tries to relax, he frees his hands from her and allows her to slide off of his lap and sit on the seat next to him. He leers at her as she tries to even out her breathing.
“Where are you taking me? Please, you have to let me go. Don’t let him do this to me!” She pleads, but gets only a frighteningly cold stare in return. She backs as far away as she can, and looks out the window. They’re traveling on a dirt road through a dark, sobering mass of jungle vegetation. As the sight encroaches upon her, overwhelming her with its blatant enormity, she begins shaking with fear. She can no longer pretend that it’s all just a bad dream… an hallucination.
Curled up on a cot, John lays shaking and mumbling inside the cavernous airplane hangar, as Stefano’s young, newly hired doctor, kneels down beside him, and helps him drink a mixture of salt and cold water through a straw. Though delirious, and in pain, John gulps down the liquid speedily.
“So, he was hallucinating… huh. That explains his ranting,” Stefano states blankly to the doctor.
“Well, Mr. DiMera,” she says, looking up at her boss, “I don’t know what you expected would happen if you left him the entire flight without anything to drink, stuffed in a small compartment sweating. You’re lucky he’s not dead, really.”
The doctor’s calm, impertinent demeanor irks Stefano.
“Just fill him up again, dammit,” he grumbles. “Then get back to the infirmary. I want you to do a complete check-up on my guest, Dr. Evans.”
“Yes. I’ve read your instructions, Sir,” she says. “Will you be bringing *him* there as well? I’d like to monitor his recuperation.”
After a quick snort of glee, Stefano’s face turns to stone and he says, “No, that won’t be necessary. He won’t be *recuperating* for long.”
“Why bother with this then?”
Stefano straightens his back and forges a glare at the doctor, “Sometimes you need a man to be healthy before he dies.”
Considering his response, the confused doctor turns to look at John’s tortured face, and knows she better just do her job and not ask any more questions.
Marlena presses her trembling fingers to the car’s window and hears John’s cries echo in her mind. The thought of him back there with Stefano makes her blood run cold, and her throat constrict with fear. She knows he’ll be brave and strong, and that he’ll try to move heaven and earth to find her, but she knows Stefano won’t hesitate for a moment to kill him. John’s only human after all, and Stefano sometimes seems more than that. Something deep in her is trying to prepare herself for the possibility that Stefano will succeed this time.
But why, she wonders, did he bring John here? What did he have planned for John? For her?
“Dear God,” she closes her eyes and prays, speaking softly into the back of her hand as she moors herself against the door and away from the brut beside her, “please protect John. Please let me see him again….”
Then she tells John, in the privacy of her heart, that she *will* see him again. Soon.
When the vehicle finally comes to a stop, after going into an underground garage, which reminded Marlena vaguely of Batman’s cave, having seen the movie with Brady and Belle on video one night recently when John had taken Kristen out for dinner, Marlena tries to open her door, but it’s locked.
“Hold on, lady.”
Marlena flinches as the man grabs her arm and squeezes mercilessly. He holds her as the driver comes around and opens her car door and reaches down curling his arms under her and lifting her up and out. For a second, she wants to fight, but can’t think of a single reason why she should waste her energy on the impossibility of escape… at that moment.
Alone, in the pitch dark, chasmal space of the empty hangar, John bolts upright, regaining consciousness. He steadies himself, gripping the sides of the cot and soon realizes his wrists are anchored to it with chains. He screams out in frustration. Then, a sudden dizzy spell sends him spinning out of control, so he lays slowly back down, and waits for the room to slow to a stop. He opens his eyes, and seeing nothing, he closes them again.
He remembers what had caused him to wake abruptly. He’d been dreaming, or recalling in the cloudiness of semi-consciousness, Marlena’s beautiful smile and deep sexy laugh. He revives it again in his mind and for a moment he feels calm and at peace, but also full of the long-buried, yet always on the surface, lust for that laugh, and every other part of Marlena. He bites his lip as he rewinds the memory of the happy moment they shared just days ago. A cherished vignette in the midst of a swirling nightmare. Trapped there in the heavy darkness all around him, he laughs out loud as he watches in his mind, the blob of strawberry Jell-O bouncing onto Marlena’s chest from the trembling spoon he held up to her mouth. Then, as he chased it with his fingers down under her…. And now, isolated in this place, he can hear her squeal with laughter at the touch of his hand then.
Until he can find sleep, John chases other memories… of similar strawberry adventures with the love of his life.
Whispering, so that the guard can’t hear, Marlena tries to convince the seemingly empathetic doctor to help her get away. She pleads, tugging on her lab coat gently, and trying to tell her with all the emotion she can deliver in her eyes that she is *desperate* to escape. All the doctor does is shake her head occasionally as she goes about checking her patient’s health. She restitches part of the stomach wound that had torn slightly and rebandages it. She tells Marlena that she is healing wonderfully, giving her a terse smile.
Marlena shakes her head and murmurs plaintively, “You don’t understand, I don’t care! I have to get away from here!”
The solemn looking doctor stares straight into Marlena’s eyes and says in an almost silent monotone, “I’m sure you understand, madam, that would not be something I could help you with.”
After a moment, Marlena says, “So, you know who did this to me?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, “Stefano’s daughter. Yup, she tried to kill me… and she’ll probably try again if you don’t help me get away from here.”
“Dr. Evans, surely….”
“Can you live with that? Can you?”
“I haven’t a choice in the matter.”
“You’re a doctor!”
Ignoring that statement of fact, she puts a calm hand on Marlena’s arm, and hands her a bottle of aspirin. Talking in a casual tone, she says, “Take these for the headaches, okay?”
Marlena takes the bottle and looks at it curiously because it’s so light. Seeing that there are only about half a dozen aspirins inside, Marlena tosses her head back and sarcastically says, “If I was even remotely considering suicide, Doctor, I’d make sure I took Stefano DiMera with me!”
The young woman laughs uncomfortably, then, squeezing Marlena’s arm gently, she breathes, “I’m sorry about all this, Dr. Evans.”
Marlena stares her down, grabbing her forearm and pulling her close. Then, frowning with tears starting to overwhelm her eyes, she appeals to the feminine side of the doctor. “I have children. They *need* me. My baby is only three years old….”
“Please,” the doctor says, with compassion eminent in her voice. “Go now with this man…. Look, I can see you’re a strong woman. I’m sure you’ll be okay. And I’m also sure your children and husband will see you again,” the doctor states in a hushed voice as she helps Marlena down off the exam table.
“My *husband*?” Marlena asks, realizing the woman’s mistake. “You mean John? You’ve seen him!?” she exclaims.
The woman pulls back, realizing that she’s said too much.
Seeing the answer in the doctor’s eyes, Marlena, now frantic, wondering why she had seen John, pleads for information. “Where is he? Is he sick… injured? Did Stefano try to kill him? Oh, god, you have to tell me how he is… please!” Then she remembers the anguish she’d heard in John’s voice coming from the airplane, and she can’t breathe.
The doctor can’t seem to look away from the face of this afflicted woman, as she acquiesces and says, “I treated him for dehydration.”
Marlena gulps, “Oh, John, oh no! He’s alright… tell me he’s alright!” She clutches her stomach and groans. She can’t bear to think of him in pain. Her mind flashes to the horrible nightmare they endured at Maison Blanche, and the pain John suffered–and her inability to do anything to stop it. But, at least then I could hold him… comfort him, she thinks.
She aches from the emptiness.
Not wanting to upset her patient, the doctor says, “No permanent damage. He’s fine.”
Relieved, Marlena looks up. Eyes shrouded in tears and teeth clenched, she grabs the material of the doctor’s coat and implores, “Please, help me! Please… help *us*! Stefano will kill John!”
The doctor calmly extracts Marlena’s fingers from her coat, and fights not to tell her that “yes” he will kill him.
“I’ll be back to check on your progress soon, I’m sure. You’ll be fine.”
“No, no I won’t!” She cries finally, shaking her head vehemently.
The guard leads Marlena away, as she looks back at the doctor, hoping to see a sign that she would give in and do something, but she doesn’t. The doctor avoids her eyes, walking away. As they are leaving the small hut that is the infirmary, Marlena decides to fight. She kicks and bites and pummels, as the guard screams for help. The doctor is soon there with a sedative, which she injects into Marlena. Succumbing to it quickly, she falls limply into the arms of the guard and is carried, unconscious, into the vast hollows of the DiMera Island estate.
John finally finds sleep. A deep, dreamless slumber, where time is suspended and nothing can cause pain. Sleep, however, is not death, so when the sound of Stefano’s angry blustering wakes him, John is once again surrounded in reality and pain.
“Morning, John,” Stefano says coldly, walking towards the cot.
“Could I please go to the bathroom, you son of a ***ch! I know you allowed me go last night, but, well, go figure, I have to go again!”
He is allowed to make a trip to the small lavatory at the back of the hangar. And while inside, alone, he takes the opportunity to place Marlena’s diary in a more comfortable and less noticeable position. He sticks it against his lower back, and tightens his belt an extra loop. After the guard yanks him from the room, he’s lead outside. Stefano has four men with him, all of whom, it seems to John, look like brothers… or clones.
They walk into the shadowy forest.
With a frowning smile, John asks, “You’re taking me to see Marlena aren’t ya, Stefano?”
“In your dreams,” Stefano chuckles lightly.
John turns deadly serious and shouts into his enemie’s back as they walk forward. “If you hurt her, I’ll skin you alive! Do you hear me? You so much as touch a single hair on her head again… if you *rape* her, so help you God!”
Stefano stops dead in his tracks and turns around slowly to confront John. His face, inflamed with purple rage, scowls as he pokes John angrily in the chest. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, DiMera! If you rape Marlena, I’ll kill you with my bare hands, I swear to God!”
Stefano’s eyes widen with fury, then squint with hatred as he growls, “How dare you accuse me of something so… I would never!” Then realizing he is letting the words of a man he despises get to him, Stefano begins to laugh.
“And just how do you think you’ll ever know what happens, much less get revenge on me?”
“I’m gonna find her… and I’m going to get her away from you! And you’ll never get your slimy hands on her again, because I’m gonna kill you old man!”
“Oh, that’s priceless,” Stefano laughs, and walks up to John. He slowly leans into him, no longer laughing, and says in a low, slow growl, “Some protector you turned out to be. Marlena will soon see the difference, John. She will finally have someone who loves *only* her, and knows how to protect her. All she knows is failure with the likes of you. Oh, yes, she will know the difference with me!”
Unable to strike out at him, and seething with hatred, John spits dead center in Stefano’s face.
Stefano recoils, wiping his face. “Damn you!”
John feels more hatred for him than ever, simply because he knows the man is right about his failure to protect Marlena.
Both men stand glaring at each other, the space between them charged with the pure detestation that was spawned from years of confrontation and injury. Stefano straightens up and forces himself to restore his composure. He turns and continues to lead them through the path under the roof of the forest, determined to win.
“Do you think she’s gonna ever want you? She hates you with every fiber of her being! The mere thought of you sickens her!”
Stefano strides on, listening but letting it roll off his back. As they reach his intended location, he finally turns around again and eyes John.
“Well, I’m not worried about Marlena” he declares to John. “She *will* love me. More than she ever loved you or Roman. I will give her the WORLD… something you couldn’t dream of giving her. You don’t have the imagination or will to please her the way I will.”
John laughs, “Imagination? That’s what you call *kidnaping* and *rape*?”
Stefano almost loses it, but bites his lip and grinds his foot into the ground. He points to one of the men standing next to John, and says, “I think we’re ready here. Get the… you know,” he says waving his hand at the metal briefcase the man had set on the ground.
John begins to fear the very worst of this situation, which will leave Marlena here alone with this madman who would do anything to possess her. He looks around desperately to find some way out, but all he can see is forest and four men with guns. His breathing becomes labored as he watches Stefano looking at him with open-faced hatred.
“Have you made peace with your maker, John? I only ask, because I know you were once a man of God,” Stefano says, folding his arms securely across his chest. “But then again, maybe you’d like a shot of whiskey. I can get that for you if you like.”
“No thanks… so what, you’ve brought me all the way here, to wherever the hell we are, just to kill me? Kind of a boring finale for *you* isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is rather unpretentious isn’t it? Not my style at all. But, you know, John, I’m *bored* with *you*. Watching your behavior this past year has diminished my respect for you. And I don’t waste my time on easy marks. I’m simply getting rid of an inconvenience. But I’m also killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, by bringing you here.” Stefano walks to the other side of where John stands, as John rotates to stay facing him–instinctively never wanting his enemy at his back.
“What’s THAT mean?!” John hollers, his voice thick with vitriol.
Stefano laughs heartily, enjoying John’s growing fear, knowing he must be sensing that his fate is sealed. “Okay, okay, settle down, I’ll tell you. What the hell,” he says, again walking around John. “You see, John, I don’t like messes, and as easy as it is to pay for people’s silence or favors, I find it tedious and I loathe the ignobility of it all….”
“Oh, yeah, murder is such a gentleman’s sport! You sick bastard!”
Not skipping a beat, Stefano continues, “So, I’ve decided it serves me best to kill you here–a place nobody knows about, and where nobody will ever find your body. This will save me so much dirty work.”
Stefano turns and watches his man take something out of the case and fiddle around with it. John looks, but can’t see it clearly.
“Anyway,” Stefano says and twists back around, blocking John’s view. “The other bird I’ll be killing is Marlena’s attachment to you. You see,” he motions towards the man standing there, now pointing a rifle in their direction, “After Val here kills you, he will return to me with proof of your death.”
“Proof?” John squints, feeling his heart start to beat rapidly.
“Yes, Marlena will see for herself that you are dead… so she will not question the truth of it when she sees it with her own eyes.”
“What, you got those damn goggles again?”
“No, no. I’ve put those in storage,” he says, smirking. Then pulling Val up close, he points at the miniature video camera strapped to his head. “It’s rather low-tech really. I’m tired of wasting all my best stuff on you.” Stefano backs up, and smiles at John. “Well, wish me luck with Marlena, John.”
John grits his teeth, and wonders if he can make a run for it. But seeing the rifle just feet in front of him, he would rather not be shot in the back.
“You won’t need any luck with Marlena, pal! She’ll never give in! She’s the strongest person I know, and she’ll outsmart you, outfox you, and she WILL get back to her family! Count on that! She doesn’t need me to beat you!”
Ignoring John’s words, Stefano adds, “Oh, and I’ve instructed Val to give you a fifteen minute head start. Isn’t that generous? But I wouldn’t expect to get away… he’s the best in the biz.”
One of the men undoes the bindings from John’s wrists, as Stefano salutes John and walks back the way they came in, with his three henchmen following.
“Coward!” John calls after him. “Let her go, Stefano!”
“Farewell, John!” The gruff voice in the distance resounds through the clutter of foliage.
John squeezes his eyes shut and screams, “Don’t hurt her! Don’t you… hurt… her, Stefanoooooo!” Then, his voice descending in defeat, he bends and covers his face with one hand and quietly begs, “Please don’t hurt Marlena….”
“Okay, Black, my clock is ticking,” Val says, as he leans against a tree, rifle-butt resting against his stomach. “Take off, man.”
John stares into the man’s cold eyes for a moment, then turns and tears into the forest.
Marlena’s eyes open to the light of morning and the sight of a passel of bright red flowers with huge petals practically dancing under her nose. Slowly she sits up, and watches as the room spins around her.
“Ohhh, Lordy,” she gasps and drops back down onto the bed. “Let me try that again, slowly,” she suggests to herself.
When she’s finally able to stand, she sees she is on a polished wooden platform in her bare feet, surrounded by pots of multicolored flowers, and plants that reach way above her head. Then she sees she has been sleeping in a huge canopy bed with cascading white mosquito netting scooping dramatically around it. She can feel she’s no longer wearing the pajamas she wore at the hospital, and she looks to see that she is naked under an elegant, white cotton nightdress with delicate blue flowers embroidered in vertical rows across the chest. She shivers thinking that someone else dressed her…. Possibly Stefano?
Taking in a deep, calming breath, she murmurs, “Oh, god, where am I?”
She walks quietly off the platform and over to the opposing wall where there is an amazing sight. Set into the vast, smooth white cement wall are three giant round windows. Each window is about twelve feet high and two feet deep, with a border of colorful stained glass. Marlena walks up into the center window and stares out. Tears fall down her cheeks at the sight of the beautiful scenery of ocean and palm trees that stirs her soul, and also reminds her just how far away from home she is. She touches her fingers gently against the cool glass and pictures John standing below on the sandy shore, tanned and handsome, holding the tiny hands of Belle and Brady, and smiling up at her. She backs her body against the curved wall of the window, and slips down gently to the bottom. The sunlight falls down on her and caresses her golden hair and dances in her sad light brown eyes.
“Oh, my love… oh, my babies….” she whispers, and presses her fingers to her lips, “I will see you all again. I will touch you, and hold you close….” Then her spirits falter and she lowers her head to her knees and lets the sadness rain down around her.
John feels a sense of freedom as he runs for his life. He knows that at any moment a bullet could slice into his back and through his heart, ending his strange and wonderful journey on this earth, but somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. It doesn’t feel like he is running to escape death, but like he is being propelled forward *to* something. *Someone*. And he feels her presence like a magnet drawing him in; pulling with a force so powerful it feels like he’s in cruise control. He smiles, thinking that he could probably close his eyes and still find his way.
As he is running, carving his way through the maze of foliage, he begins a chant that keeps in time with his movements and breathing.
“I’m coming, Marlena. I’m coming Marlena. I’mcomingMarlena. Imcomingmarlena….”
Over and over and over. Past the burning in his lungs, and the pounding in his head, and the pain shooting through his limbs.
“Thanks so much Sister, for bringing me,” Susan mumbles into her sleeve as they depart Jeri’s truck.
“Hon, I told you, I’m going to see this thing through with you. Now, promise me you’ll be strong, and brave, okay?”
Jeri watches Susan come around toward her, smiling tentatively. She can see the woman isn’t happy about coming back to the hospital for a checkup. She takes her hand and leads Susan, who shuffles along in the slushy muck of melting snow.
As they walk, Susan suddenly stops and lets go of Jeri’s hand. The nun stops, wondering *what now*. Lord, she prays, give me the patience for this one that you gave me so many times in the past. Then she decides that Susan is like *no* other in the past. Okay, Lord, I beg you for extra amounts of patience, given the *special* case you have given me. She closes her eyes and turns.
“What is it?” she asks Susan.
Susan’s eyes are bugging out, and darting in all directions. Her face is frozen with a look of shock and panic.
“What? What is it Susan?”
Susan stammers an unintelligible mouthful of sounds, and begins to jump in tiny bursts, as Jeri tries to get a hold of her. Finally, securing her on firm ground, looking face to face, Jeri gets her to speak clearly.
“Oh, oh, oh… Elvis just walked by me!”
Her head resting against the giant window, Marlena hears the clicking of the doorknob turning and opens her eyes.
“Ah, Marlena. You’re awake,” Stefano says quietly as he moves toward her. He is smiling and it makes her burn with anger and fear. She turns her head away and looks out the window, gathering her gown in her hands and tightening it around her exposed flesh, then immures herself to the glass as tightly as she can.
Stefano sits down in the window at her feet. As he moves his hand to touch her, she quickly sets a steady glare into him.
“Don’t… you put your hands on me,” she asserts, holding her hand up with warning.
“Marlena, I don’t want to hurt you. I *love* you.”
Ignoring him, she looks down at the beach and asks, “How long have I been asleep?”
“Just since yesterday. Since your visit with the doctor.”
Something down there suddenly catches her eyes. She sees Kristen walking toward the water. Though it’s some distance from where she sits, Marlena can see she’s wearing a brightly colored blue bikini and she is being followed by a large, tanned man carrying an overstuffed bag.
Marlena turns to look at Stefano. Leaning forward slightly, she asks, “Stefano, please, can I go home? Don’t keep me away from my family for another day, please. I’m begging you.”
“My darling,” he says, “look around you. This is *paradise*, and soon you will think of it as *home*. And you can bring your family here. Think of how happy they will be in this magical place. The closest place to heaven, my love….”
She closes her eyes in frustration, and sighs, “No, Stefano. Heaven is no where near this place, and the only thing magical is how once again you rose from the ashes.”
He stands. “I will get you something to eat, Marlena.”
“No, wait,” she straightens, “What have you done to John? Where is he?”
Stefano’s face deadens. He waits a moment, then says, “I’ll tell you soon.”
“What does *that* mean?”
“You will see. Soon.”
“Stefano,” she warns, “if you’ve killed him… if you killed the man I love, the father of my daugh–“
Stefano holds up a hand, halting her.
“Marlena–don’t waste you breath, please. John Black,” he says, pausing, “is not a topic for discussion.”
She grits her teeth and stares at him with a fierce glower.
Then there is peaceful silence as she feels the tension depart from her body as she watches Stefano leave the room.
She again turns her attention to the beach, where the sun shines down on the crystal blue water. She sees Kristen is now sprawled on a towel on her back tanning herself. Marlena wonders how she can go about her life as though she is on a vacation, after all the terrible things she has done. “You are a true DiMera, Kristen, just as if you’d been born one,” she says under her breath. Then she is intrigued as she sees Kristen sit up and gesture to the man sitting next to her. She removes her suit top and he begins to spread lotion on her back. Then she sees Kristen tilt her head back and kiss him. Soon she has spun around and is pushing him back onto the sand as she crawls onto him. Marlena groans with repulsion as the two begin to maul each other.
She leaves the window, and gesturing in an *I give up* motion, says out loud, “See, Kristen, you just proved my theory.”
Mentally and physically exhausted, Marlena falls back down onto the bed and tangles herself up in the cool white sheets. She closes her eyes and stretches her arm across the empty surface next to her, and tells herself that John isn’t dead. She knows that is true.
Surely Stefano would have bragged about it. If John was dead, he would have thrown it in her face, she thinks. The way he did in Paris. She won’t fall for that one again.
Trying to put the very idea of John’s possible death out of her mind, she tries to think of a way out of this nightmare.
“Elvis?”
“Uh huh… There. Over there,” Susan points.
Jeri turns and sees a person entering the hospital holding a baby. It immediately clicks, and she knows what Susan means. She grabs the stone-still Susan and they race towards the hospital.
“Come on, let’s go get ‘im.” Jeri says, a smile breaking across her face.
John knows it’s been more than fifteen minutes. It’s been at least half an hour, and still no bullet in the back. Then, like a bad omen, he can see the sky above, through the forest ceiling, begin to darken. He allows himself to slow up some, enough to see the onset of a storm. Then he hears the first thunderclap ripple through the blanket of greenery, and a cool breeze descend.
The rain begins to fall in quiet drops, then in sheets. In less than a minute he’s completely drenched, as he continues running, being spurred forward to whatever fate has in store for him.
Suddenly, as the forest floor changes from a relatively flat surface to a gentle slope, John picks up speed–his arms turning like windmills. Then he starts to lose control, no longer able to keep up with himself. As his feet go out from under him, he cries out, and is hurled into the mud. His body somersaults a couple of times, and rolls over rocks and vegetation, then slides in a patch of leveled out terra firma until he comes to a stop against a tree stump. He lays there, groaning and panting, seeing he’s fully covered in mud. He looks up to the sky and the rain cleanses his face of the jungle grime.
“Well, Marlena,” he says, looking up into the liquid canopy, “That was graceful wasn’t it? Don’t worry, I’m not going to let a little rain stop me.”
Slipping and sliding as he tries to stand up, he finally reaches a full upright stance, and begins to sweep the mud off. But, as he turns around to begin again, he barely catches himself from stepping straight off a cliff of overhanging, mangled vegetation, and falling into a vast, slopping hole in the earth.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa….” He scrambles and falls onto his back. Gasping for air, he sprawls out in the leafy mud, resting and letting the pounding rain soothe him, and gather in his open mouth. After moments of peace there, lying in the mud, a foreign sound slowly gathers volume through the roar of the rain. John starts to focus on it and quickly clambers to stand as he realizes what it is.
Looking in all directions, John tries to decide which way to run, but knows he’s trapped. Despite that knowledge, he moves slowly to his right as he keeps his eyes locked on the source of the menacing, booming laughter that is descending the long incline leading straight towards him.
Finally the laughter stops, as Stefano’s tracker, Val comes to a halt. Pausing, realizing with satisfaction that his prey is a sure bet, he hollers to John, “Your fast, Black! Thanks for the run!”
John’s mind doesn’t catch what he’s said. He’s too busy trying to find a way out. He sees Val reach up to his video camera, and knows he’s probably turning it on. ‘Marlena’s going to see me die,’ he realizes in horror. As his breathing becomes ragged, and his heart begins pounding fast and hard, John eyes a tree a few feet away.
“So long, Sucker!” Val shouts, and raises his rifle.
Just before dashing toward the tree, John cries, “I love you, Marlena!!!”
The man lowers his rifle and sweeps his arm across his face, wiping the rain away and revealing a satisfied smile. Inhaling the smoke created from the expended bullet, he begins a slow gait through the clearing toward his victim, John Black. Conscious of the small camera attached to his skull, Val tilts his head slightly forward as he approaches the spot where he’d hit his target, wanting to get the best picture he can to bring back to his boss.
‘Damn,’ he thinks, ‘why’s it gotta be raining on the day I bag the biggest prize on DiMera’s hit list? Freakin’ rain forest!’
As he approaches the area, and sees what wasn’t apparent from further back, he begins to laugh, tilting his head back and letting the explosive sound ripple into the gloomy sky. Then, remembering that he’s supposed to be videotaping, he drops his head back down and aims it. He can’t believe his good fortune. He’d shot Black, who had then fallen into the very pit he was told to dump the body.
The video camera zooms in and auto focuses on the body, which lay face up a short distance away. John’s sprawled out on a jutting section of muddy earth along the rim of the hole. Val can see blood mixing with rain on John’s head, and he’s satisfied his job is done.
‘Well, Black,’ he thinks, contemptuously, ‘you’ve practically done my job for me. Now Stefano don’t have to worry about you takin’ the broad back and I get enough cash to live it up in Vegas for a month!’
Making sure there’s enough footage of the lifeless body, Val stands staring at John for about two minutes. Finally, he smirks as he does an habitual sign of the cross, and reaches up to turn off the camera.
“G*d damn, I’m good,” he compliments himself, and leans his rifle up against his leg. Then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Shielding it from the falling rain, he cups it with his hand and lights it. Inhaling the smoke deeply, he glances back down at his fallen victim, and then releases it in a slow column through his clenched teeth. He wants to pity the dead man, but then decides he can’t. Anybody who’s stupid enough to mess with DiMera can’t possibly expect to live long.
Once more wiping his sopping wet face with his arm, Val takes one long last drag of his cigarette and decides he better be getting his masterpiece back to DiMera. He picks up his gun, flicks his cigarette and turns around.
Like a shot, Marlena bolts upright. She issues a blood-curdling scream that shakes her from a restless nap, and rips through her soul. Gasping, she can’t catch her breath, and seeing where she is, again she aches with longing for home. As she fights for air she sees and hears the slamming of rain against the giant windows. Then a flash of lightning severs the darkened sky, and a column of shivers shoots up her spine. She shudders with the feeling that something terrible has happened, and she knows with certain dread that it’s *John* who’s in trouble. ‘I have to find out what Stefano did with him,’ she decides. She inhales deeply, finally getting back her breath.
Marlena pulls herself free of the sheets surrounding her and gets out of bed. Feeling slightly chilled from the air conditioning, she finds a robe that matches her gown and slips it on. Across the room she sees the large door that she prays is unlocked. Padding across the wooden floor in her bare feet, she looks around for where the cameras might be hidden. She’s learned that she’s most likely being watched, but somehow it doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters at all is getting away from here, and soon. Once in front of the door, she closes her hand around the knob. Turning it slowly, she inhales and her face freezes in astonished delight when the door clicks and opens.
“Ohhhh, no,” she sighs heavily as she sees Stefano’s hand is gripping the knob on the other side. She instantly releases the door and steps back, dejected.
“Marlena, are you all right? I heard you scream.”
“Spare me,” she says, and walks to stand in front of the window, where he follows her. Staring out at the stormy skies, Marlena’s heart fills up with hatred, and her eyes fill up with tears.
She’s aware of his presence behind her by the encroaching smell of him. It’s always the same mixture of liquor, cigar smoke, and cologne. It is to her, the very essence of evil, and as she turns to face him, she can’t help but cringe.
“Stefano, how long are you going to keep me in this room?”
He reaches up to touch her cheek, but she draws her head back, tucking it against her shoulder.
“I mean, if I’m going to live here the rest of my life, I’d like to see what the rest of this place looks like. I hope you aren’t planning on making me live forever in this one room? Can’t you take me on a tour of my *new home*?”
“Marlena, my dear, you should be resting. Recuperating….”
Marlena watches him as he smiles, most likely, wrongly presuming that she has started to accept her fate. She wants to wipe that grin off his face. She wants to, once and for all, end his reign of terror over her life. ‘I want my life back, you monster,’ she thinks. ‘And I will get it! And you will pay so dearly–especially if you hurt John.’
“I’m tired of sleeping, and I am tired of this room.”
“Of course my dear. But you didn’t eat the meal I gave you. You must be starving,” he insists.
“I’m really just stir crazy, not hungry.”
“Well, then, yes. Okay.”
“What?”
He extends his arm for her to take and says, “Let me show you your castle, Marlena.”
The moment Susan sees her infant baby, she can’t help but yell for him. Jeri sees the reaction of the woman holding him, and they share an immediate look of acknowledgment and then trepidation. Jeri can see the woman begin to panic.
“Hold it right there,” she warns as she approaches her.
“My baby!” Susan shouts again. “Gimme my son!”
The woman backs up against the wall just inside the entrance. Jeri grabs her arm, and the woman quickly throws the infant into her arms and takes off down the corridor.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Jeri hollers. She hands off the baby to Susan and gives chase. Never taking her eyes off her target, she easily catches up. Lunging with perfect timing, she dives for the woman’s legs and slides under her where she intercepts her fall.
“Gotcha!”
Marlena side-steps Stefano’s outstretched arm and walks towards the opened door.
“Marlena?” Stefano calls after her.
She turns and crosses her arms.“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just… you look so beautiful. You take my breath away, my darling.”
Marlena’s stomach turns and through a forced, polite smile she vows never to have to hear him call her that again.
“Well, let us proceed,” he says, and guides her out of the room. They walk into a dark hallway, and Stefano takes her hand as they move towards a dim light. Reaching an arch leading into a narrow glass walkway, Marlena steps through the entrance and stops in the center, looking out at the beautiful garden.
“Oh, my G*d,” she gasps. There, directly below her in the pouring rain, is a marble statue of a nude female standing gracefully, holding a single rose up to her face. “That’s me!”
Stefano sidles up to her and whispers into her ear, “Yes.”
Marlena closes her eyes and catches her breath, paralyzed.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
Marlena blurts out, “No!” Then she eschews his hovering form and runs down the rest of the glass artery.
At the other end, she enters a room with a towering glass ceiling where the rain is pummeling down. Stefano makes his presence behind her evident when he clutches her shoulders with his burly hands. She pulls away and walks to the middle of the room where there is a fountain. Standing in front of it, she begins to cry quietly. Her hand reaches out and touches the cool surface of another marble statue. She strolls a finger across the tiny arm of the smooth, stone child.
“Well, well, well… look who’s come out of her room!”
Marlena looks up and through the flowers and plants surrounding the fountain, she sees Kristen standing in the room, brushing through her wet hair, wearing a sheer white big shirt over the blue bikini Marlena had seen her in, and *out* of earlier.
“Kristen.”
“Good G*d, woman, it’s practically dinner time and you’re still in your jammies!”
Marlena turns, unable to hide her revulsion, “Stefano, I thought you said I’d never have to see her.”
“Hey, believe me, if I’d known you were in here, I never would have come in,” Kristen announces.
“Please, shut up, Kristen! I thought I told you to stay in the other wing,” Stefano shouts angrily.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Kristen says mockingly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt the honeymoon or anything! By the way, Stefano, *when* is John coming? I hope you’ve sent for him for me, and if not, you better get to it! I *need* him!”
Before he can answer, his phone rings, and he pulls it from his pocket. Marlena takes the moment to walk towards Kristen.
She can’t help but give her a jab, “That’s just so funny, Kristen. It didn’t look like you *needed* John when you were rolling around in the sand with your slave-boy earlier.”
Marlena is delighted when she sees the shock on Kristen’s face.
“Well, I have to bring you to see something, Marlena. And as long as you’re here Kristen, you come as well,” Stefano says, replacing his phone and walking toward the two women, motioning them forward to the door.
Jeri has corralled her captured babynapper into the hospital’s security office, where she, Susan and the baby sit waiting for Abe Carver to arrive. She’d been keeping abreast of the search for Kristen DiMera with frequent calls to the commander, so she was more than pleased to help him with his case. She crosses her legs and looks at the woman, who is coldly staring at the wall.
“Did DiMera send you back here with the baby?” She asks the close-lipped suspect.
Waiting for the woman to talk, Jeri turns and stands when she hears Abe’s voice.
“That would be my bet,” he says, and reaches down to shake Jeri’s hand. “Abe Carver, nice to finally meet you.”
“Same here, Commander.”
“So, she’s not talking, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Well, we’ll see about that,” Abe says, smiling, as he seats himself behind the bare desk that is squeezed into the tiny office and folds his hands on top. He’s certain he will soon find out where Stefano has John and Marlena, as well as where Kristen is. He looks at Jeri, and they both give each other satisfied smiles.
Stefano unlocks a door and ushers Kristen and Marlena through. Inside, it’s yet another large room. On one side there’s a wall of books kept in richly colored wooden shelves. At the opposite end there is a large entertainment wall, with monitors, stereos, speakers, VCRs, and a large movie screen. The opposing walls are adorned with massive paintings in gilded frames. And in the middle of the room are rows of plush couches. Reclining in the very middle is a damp looking man smoking a cigarette, with a rifle laying across his lap. He turns and looks at them, giving Marlena a crooked leer. She doesn’t know what to think, only that something is wrong. Horribly wrong.
“Please, take a seat,” Stefano instructs as he moves toward the wall. Marlena and Kristen go tentatively to opposite ends of the seating area and sit down.
Stefano, chuckling, says, “Marlena… please, don’t sit so far back. You won’t be able to see.”
Marlena unsteadily moves to the front couch, gently sitting down to avoid the sharp pains that come with movement of her mid-section.
“What is all this?” she asks, not letting herself figure it out… not really wanting an answer.
“You’ll see, my dear,” he tells her flatly, and turns on one of the televisions.
“Where’s the popcorn?” Kristen asks, laughing.
As the monitor flickers to life, Marlena watches Stefano pick up a strange looking headgear made of straps with a wire going from it to the TV. He pushes a button on a tiny box attached to it. ‘What’s going on?’ she wonders, as her heart begins to pound wildly in her chest.
A picture appears on the monitor, and it’s dark and unsteady. Marlena can see and hear the rain slashing through the heavy thicket of forest, as well as heavy labored breathing. As the point of view shifts, and refocuses, she sees John standing drenched and motionless, fear spread across his face. She springs up from her seat and she tries to call to him, but can only choke on the air she breathes. ‘There he is,’ she thinks. ‘Oh, my God, what’s happening? Oh, God, no!’
Then they hear a voice as the camera remains on John.
“So long, Sucker!” a man shouts. Then as John turns quickly, there is the sound of the rifle firing, and Marlena falls back as she hears him cry out in a fervent, powerful voice, “I love you, Marlena!” And then, as she watches in horror, the unsteady camera catches the image of John the moment the force of the bullet’s impact pitches his body backwards and out of frame.
“Nooooooo!” Marlena screams as she bolts from her seat and runs at Stefano and begins beating his chest with her arms and fists. He grabs her by the wrists and turns her forcefully to look at the monitor again. Through her anguished tears she watches, sobbing and gasping.
The sound of laughter coming from the television shrouds the picture that paralyzes Marlena. The camera focuses through the rain and down on the sight of John’s lifeless body. His saturated white shirt is full of mud, but no sign of blood. She can’t see his face clearly, but immediately spots the red splotch on his forehead. She groans in agony as her legs give out and she collapses on Stefano’s boots, and calls over and over, “You murderer! You murderer!”
“I am sorry, Marlena… forgive me, but it had to be done,” Stefano says shakily. “It *had* to be done. He had to pay for his crimes against me, and my family.”
As Marlena cries into her hands she can see John’s motionless form covered in rain and mud in her mind, and aches with unspeakable pain and emptiness.
‘I have to get to him,’ she agonizes. ‘I can’t leave him there all alone….’
Stefano bends to help her get up but is interrupted by a low growl and then more fists pummeling his body. He falls to the ground next to Marlena and turns and reaches up to fight off Kristen’s thrashing. Marlena slides away, and stands up. She looks and sees that the man sitting there, unbelievably, had fallen asleep through all this. ‘I have to get to John,’ she thinks desperately. The door is opened slightly. Slowly, quietly, Marlena moves away from Stefano and Kristen as they struggle on the floor.
“How could you?! How could you kill my John?!” Kristen screams, hitting and biting and scratching the large man.
“Stop it, Kristen! Stop! Stop! Stop!”
Marlena eyes the rifle lying across the slumbering man. She picks it up stealthily, then as quickly as she can, she skims out of the room. With the sounds of her enemies’ screaming behind her, Marlena makes it to another door. Opening it, she sighs with relief when the humidity of the outside, furls inside, making a cool column of steam that blows through her gown.
Once outside, she is shocked to see nothing… nobody. She begins to run, clutching the rifle to her side. “Thank you, God,” she cries through tears of relief. “Thank you for not forgetting about me. Please, please help me find John. please, help us get home….”
The further away she gets, the more relieved she feels. It doesn’t matter to her that she’s running into the deep dark forest, brimming with mystery and danger. All that is propelling her is the need to get away from Stefano and the potent sense that the video was just another trick of a desperate, sick man, and John is alone out there… *alive*. As she runs, ignoring the pain her feet feel, she realizes suddenly that it isn’t raining anymore.
Fluttering about in the air, a giant, bright, blue-winged butterfly dips gracefully lower and lower from the lofty forest ceiling. As it descends, the sun appears from behind the rapidly disappearing clouds. Radiating down, the sunlight dances through the leafy canopy. A single shaft of light stabs through the ceiling and follows the butterfly to the forest floor, where it alights upon the still body of John Black.
As though following the column of light, the butterfly wafts through the light above John’s head, then fluidly comes to rest on his broken nose. As it remains there, shifting it’s prickly legs, the surface beneath it begins to shift as well. John’s face begins to twitch and crinkle until the butterfly loses its patience and floats gently away.
John slowly opens his eyes and moans plaintively as he comes back to life. He’s blinded by the beam of light that’s beginning to dry his rain soaked body. As the world around him makes itself known, he clutches his throbbing head and rolls over. Opening his eyes again, he curses as he sees he is once again on the verge of falling into the pit. Quickly, he rolls back and sits up. Every muscle screams in pain as he looks around.
“Oh, my God. I’m *in* the pit….” he laments groggily, as the pain in his head overwhelms him, and he cradles it in his hands upon his raised knees. He can’t believe he’s alive. With a shaky hand he reaches up to touch his forehead and feels where a small sliver of skin has been carved away by the bullet. Then looking at the sticky blood covering his fingertips, he shakes his head and releases a gasp of joy and disbelief; his good fortune once again astounding him.
Eyes wide with amazement as he looks at the stunning beauty of the jungle greenery dancing with light, it’s clear to him then that he has been saved by God so he can help Marlena. So he can get her out of here.
“No matter how many times I fail, God, you always bless me with another chance. Thank You!” he shouts skyward.
He gets up gingerly, so he won’t make the muddy earth give out on him. As he stands, he reaches around and touches his mudcaked back, feeling Marlena’s journal still snugly tucked in under his shirt and jeans. He smiles and breathes a sigh of relief. ‘My talisman…’ Hope fills his heart and he feels a mighty strength building inside, as he begins to pull himself up on the tangled roots, and vines, and rocks until he’s out of the pit.
~~~~~~~~~~~The Following Morning…~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Marlena wakes up from a deep sleep, she rolls over on the bed of leaves she’d gathered and arranged for a resting place, and opens her eyes. Standing on her extended arm, directly in front of her is a sizable lizard. Her eyes widening, she stares motionless at it, until suddenly its tongue darts out and she bolts upright, sending it flying into the air accompanied by an ear-splitting scream.
Her hand dropping onto her chest, she finally laughs. “Oh, my Lord,” she says, “This is *not* going to be easy!” She catches her breath, finds her walking companion, the rifle, and begins her trek again. She’s frustrated, knowing that she isn’t making much headway. It was simply too hard to move fast with bare feet; and while she feels she has regained most of the strength she lost from the wounds she suffered at the hands of Kristen, she occasionally must sit down when a dizzy spell strikes. There is only one thing that could possibly give her the motivation to continue, and that is her love for her children, and John–whom she keeps praying and hoping with all her heart is still alive. But, as she walks, despair overshadows her hope, and she begins to question things.
‘What if I can’t find John out here? I don’t think I can survive alone… how will I get home? If I can’t find John, or if I find him *dead*, what then?’ She knew one thing for sure. She would not turn around and go back.
Waking from a fitful sleep, one full of harrowing nightmares about Marlena, John stands up and tries to bury them by searching for food. But the images harass his mind mercilessly as he finally just crouches and enfolds his arms over his head, trying to take shelter from them. But they instead find asylum in his tormented mind. Again and again he sees and hears the oppressive nightmare. Marlena screaming as Stefano forces himself on her, and her tormented words send him to a wild place where he is like a caged animal pacing and going insane. She screams over and over, “John! Help me! Please don’t let this happen! How could you let this happen to me, John?! Stop, Stefano, stop, stop, stop, stop….” Then it gets worse. He suddenly remembers how Stefano planned to show Marlena a tape of him being killed… if – if she saw it, then she might give up. If she thinks I’m dead what if she loses her will to live – afraid nobody will ever save her?
He cries out as Marlena’s racking pleas assault him. “Doc! No, Doc!”
When he finally can take no more, he stands and tears off into the forest, determined to stop the nightmare from coming true… if it hadn’t happened already.
Being an experienced tracker, John believes he’s heading in the right direction, though he can’t be totally certain. But, like before, he believes part of his guidance is coming from somewhere beyond his own mind and body. It’s coming from Marlena, who is the one person in his life who ever truly trusted and believed in him. No one else had ever sacrificed so much for him. Over and over she’d been there when he needed help from the torment of his own demons or real ones like Stefano. ‘She is my rock,’ he thinks. ‘I will *not* lose her! I *can’t* lose her!’
Marlena tries to picture in her mind how far they had gone to reach the ocean front estate when first arriving, but can’t trust her instincts because that ride had seemed like *forever*. ‘Oh, my gosh,’ she fears, beginning to cry. ‘I’m totally out of my element here. I’m lost!’
However, seeing no other option, she continues to forge ahead, ignoring the frightening movements and noises that surround her, and the assault on her tender feet. Instead she focuses on Belle, and John, and Brady, and the rest of her family and friends–somehow believing that she will see them all again before she dies. “No,” she says out loud, “I will *not* die here. That can’t happen… it won’t. I will not let Kristen and Stefano be the last people I see on this earth!”
As she carefully walks up a slight incline, Marlena thinks she hears the drone of an airplane engine. She looks up into the sparse openings in the forest ceiling, but can’t locate it. She strains her ears to find it, but then, as she goes further, the noise becomes louder, sounding less like an airplane, until she walks through a bush and sees a glorious, heavenly sight.
John gathers some mangos and breadfruit, then wraps them up in his shirt and ties it around his waist. He wipes the sweat from his brow, and sits down to devour one. Not able to sit for more than three minutes, he gobbles down the piece of fruit and takes off again, mango juice dripping down his chin onto his bare chest. That same *something* is really pulling him now, *big time*, and it’s more than the guilt he feels, or the anger, or the fear. It’s 100% pure Marlena.
Wishing he had a machete, John claws through the dense overgrowth, getting cut and bruised while cussing and fuming. Exhausted, he grabs a vine and puts all his weight upon it. The agony his muscles feel is relieved for the moment. Almost falling asleep standing there, he suddenly becomes aware of a thunderous sound ahead. He makes his way through the mangled path and emerges to see he’s standing just above a raging waterfall. The sky above is open and the sun finds him. Shading his eyes from the stark rays, he is hit over the head with another miracle. He slaps one hand against his chest and the other hand over his gaping mouth, as he blinks to see it clearly. ‘How can I possibly be the most unlucky *and* luckiest man alive?’ he muses.
A smile of complete joy and then lustful desire radiates across his dirty, bearded face as he looks down at Marlena standing in the shallow pool, the spray from the fierce crashing water creating a rainbow above her. He’s breathless to see her there, like a goddess, her limpid white gown plastered to her naked form and her silken wet hair slithering down her back. He rubs his hand back and forth across his mouth as he watches her move under the water. She tilts her head back and lets it rush over her, cascading down over every exquisite curve. He finally closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose, wondering if he’s dreaming. ‘I’ve finally found you… my beautiful, sweet Doc! How could I ever have let you go?’ he thinks, and thanks God for this miracle and heavenly moment in time.
As John’s eyes continue to behold Marlena, he’s lost in his aching desire and love for her… and in the past. He leans against a large cluster of giant bamboo, and is suddenly overwhelmed by regrets, and sadness for all the lost moments… years without her in his life. All the potential happiness taken from them. Stolen. And he realizes it’s probably because of all that time that she doesn’t love him anymore… not like he *loves* her. But maybe, he ponders, it *is* possible… their love had been so strong, so intense. So pure and true.
Then he remembers the precious moments they shared only days ago, while they comforted each other from the hell the DiMera’s had put them through. The way she held him, giving him relief from the pain of losing his child. And the kiss, and the smiles, all through the agony of her coming so close to death, and Kristen trying to rip her from him forever. ‘Could she still love me? Love me the way I love her? Could she forgive me for the hell I put her through? Would God grant me yet *another* miracle?’
“God, I swear I’m not trying to be greedy here….” he says rolling his eyes and scratching his chest.
Shaking his head, suddenly dismayed that he is wasting time with questions when she is standing right there, John steps forward.
“Doc!”
All Marlena can think about is the video image of John’s lifeless body laying in the mud, as she lets the cool water pelt her body–willing it to wash this nightmare away. Soon the continuous rhythm of the pounding water seems to numb the pain, and she steps out from under it, streams of tears now replacing the falling stream of the waterfall.
“It isn’t *fair*!” Marlena cries up to the cloudless, vivid blue sky. “God, don’t take him from me… from his children!”
Pulling her wet gown up slightly around her thighs and squeezing the water out, she then ties the excess material into a knot, and begins to move carefully toward the group of large rocks that thrust out of the earth and into the pool. The tears in her eyes make seeing her way difficult–everything appearing to be swimming in a mad dance of light and motion.
Then, beyond her quiet sobs, and the roar of the waterfall, Marlena thinks she hears her name–but not just her name. The name John calls her. She turns, but doesn’t see him. Then she hears him call her again and she looks up. There, across the pool, up on a cliff smiling down at her is a very *alive*, half naked John Black. She runs as fast as she can through the water, calling up to him, and not taking her eyes off him.
“Oh, God, oh God! John! You *are* alive!”
Stopping below him, she watches as he begins to move down the slope, anticipating his arms wrapping around her.
“I’m comin’ Doc!” he yells, joyously. Then without a warning, she watches as the muddy earth breaks out from under him and he violently falls back and begins to slide down toward her in a torrent of mud and water. She runs forward and into the river of mud, which knocks her back onto her rear and buries her up to her chest. Then John tumbles into her, pushing her back into the now mud-filled pool, as his fruit-stuffed shirt is swept away from around his waist. Marlena deftly catches him around his chest and hangs on tight until the mud, water, sticks, and rocks stop their excursion. When all is relatively calm, she looks down and sees John’s beautiful blue eyes beaming up at her through a mud-coated face.
“Nice catch, Doc,” he says, panting for air.
“Oh, boy….” She sighs, then says, “I gotcha!”
They both share an exhausted, exhilarating spate of laughter as Marlena continues to hold onto his large frame tightly, his head in her lap.
Then John stops laughing and reaches up with a finger to wipe some mud from her face, and asks, “Thank God you got away, Doc…. Are you okay?”
As the water from the falls begins to dilute the muddied waters, Marlena doesn’t say anything as she gently and lovingly wipes the mud off his face with her hand, slowly letting it sink in that he is really there, and she is holding him.
“Ouch!” John blurts as she removes mud from his nose.
“Ouch, what?”
He smiles sheepishly, blinking, and tells her, “My nose. I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”
“Oh, Honey,” she whispers sweetly. “Close your eyes.”
Marlena retrieves a scoop of water in her hand and douses John’s face and beard a couple of times. When she finishes washing him she kisses the tip of his nose tenderly. He opens his eyes and can’t help but feel instantly aroused when seeing her breasts at eye level through the transparent material of her gown. Each nerve ending calls out to him, begging him to touch her, caress her, and once again, after so long, find the joy and satisfaction that only she can give his body and soul.
Looking down at John’s face, Marlena realizes what he’s looking at, and instantly feels the sexual tension electrify the small space between them as his eyes slowly, tentatively rise to meet hers. She knows that look of hunger and passion on his face and she knows he must be reading the same look on her face, yet she senses his uncertainty, so she releases him and takes his unshaven face in her hands while he moves his arms to either side of her and lifts himself up and over her as the water rushes between their bodies.
John’s incertitude ends when Marlena continues to pull his face closer to her own until their lips make contact. As they both feel the instant jolt of pleasure race through their bodies, they begin to slowly whip their mouths into a passionate frenzy. As she feels John’s full weight press down on her, and his arms cushion her back from the rocky bottom, Marlena feels lightheaded from the sensation it causes. She twists a leg around his hip and removes her hands from his face, then lashes her arms around his shoulders. The kiss continues until John, breathlessly pulls his lips from hers and moves them down into the arc between her neck and shoulder and rests, breathing heavily.
His lips moving against her flesh as he speaks, John says hushed but intensively, unable to hold back his feelings any longer, “Oh, Marlena… Doc, I love you so much. I need you… I want to make love to you. Tell me you want that, too.”
John’s sexy whisper making her gasp, Marlena breathes into his ear, finally able to tell him what he needs to hear, and she longs to say, “I love you, too… Oh, John, I’ve waited so long to tell you that.” Then she kisses the ear she is whispering into and implores in a deep, sexy murmur, “Yes… oh, yes, make love to me.”
Overwhelmed with happiness and desire at hearing this, John begins to devour her neck with the sensuous pressure of his lips, making her shiver and breathe in shuddering sighs. Feeling her body quiver beneath him, his arms sweep her up and through the water. She clasps her hands around his neck as he lifts her swiftly out of the debris filled water.
Unable to find any of the words he desperately wants to say to her, John decides to tell her how he feels with a crushing kiss as he carries her carefully through the shallow pool with water-filled boots and the added weight of water-logged jeans that slip slightly down his hips revealing his maroon boxers. Feeling a bit like Superman, he is determined to keep Marlena in his arms and his lips locked on hers, until they reach the spot he is aiming toward with one open eye.
Marlena, relishing in the feel of John’s powerful arms carrying her above the thrashing water, clutches his wet hair in her hands as his kiss starts to make her feel desperately out of control, with an insatiable thirst for him. Suddenly, a wall of water splashes over them as John walks through a section of the waterfall and breaks the kiss, sliding her body down onto the surface of a huge slanted rock that leaves them half standing, half reclining. Bracing John against her so she won’t slide down, Marlena wraps her legs up around his torso. She feels like this is a dream… but no, this is a dream come true. This *reality* is one hundred percent better than all the dreams she’s had of John since the very last time they touched like this.
“Are you sure?” John asks, looking intensely into her eyes. Marlena can’t even answer as she yanks his head down to get another mouthful of him. After such a long time, and so many dreams and fantasies, doubts are the last thing she is feeling.
Drawing back so he can look at her, John lovingly glides a hand down along Marlena’s flushed cheek to the cloth glued to her flesh. As he slowly unbuttons the garment, Marlena’s breathing intensifies and her chest rapidly rises and falls beneath his hands. Pausing after he has freed each of the tiny blue buttons, John arches his eyebrow and gives her a lusty stare, nostrils flaring, then plants his lips hungrily between her breasts and works his way up her neck and around her jaw to her ear. She gasps as the smooth journey his lips take makes her body tingle and throb in ecstasy.
As he bites and sucks on her ear, John’s large hands glide down over her shoulders, effortlessly peeling away the material of her gown from her skin and letting the it sink to her waist where it lays trapped. Marlena shivers as her naked flesh encounters the cool spray of the water and air. Not taking his eyes off her face, John grabs the bundled gown and lifts it up and over her, then smiling, he slaps it down above her head against the rock, which causes Marlena to involuntarily flinch and shiver.
Seeing goose bumps rise and move across her arms and breasts, John groans lustily, “Oh, Doc, I’m sorry… let me warm you up.”
So completely lost in the feel of his hands moving over her shivering skin, whimpering and gasping, Marlena doesn’t even hear what he’s said. She holds his head in her hands as he begins to shower her body with sensuous, hungry sweeps of his mouth and tongue causing her back to arch away from the slippery rock and wrench her head from side to side, caving into the mounting pleasure he is giving her. Opening her eyes, and looking up into the blissful blue sky, Marlena feels all the longing and repressed desire for this man escaping, finally able to soar free.
As John’s mouth reaches her belly, he stops abruptly and looks up at her.
“Oh, God, Doc, Am I hurting you?” he asks as he tenderly glides his fingers across her bandaged stomach.
Marlena looks down into his concerned eyes, and glides her palms across his hairy chest, then smiles sweetly, shaking her head, “Honey, right now, I’m feeling no pain.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mmm hmm….”
“Good,” he says. Then he slides Marlena’s body up slightly and lowers his head and kisses slowly all around the dressing, then back up to her breasts, once again working her into a frenzy. Not wanting Marlena to know the anguish he feels at the sight of her wound, he concentrates on making it up to her by sending her to the heights of sexual healing.
“Oh, John! Oh, Lord… I want you!” Marlena cries as John descends and covers her plea with his mouth. As they kiss with urgency and transcending passion, Marlena works her hands down between their melded bodies and finds the button on his jeans and undoes it. Then John suddenly presses down on her, teasing her as she fights to unzip him. Marlena responds with a playful nip on his lip, then smoothly glides the zipper down when John yields to her and returns to kissing her feverishly.
As Marlena pulls him close, John’s hands trace the curves of her body down to her hips, then along her thighs, making her quake at his masterful strokes. She returns the favor, dragging her fingernails lightly up and down his back making the muscles there flex in waves after each pass of her hand. John groans, “Oh, Doc, I want you so badly.” Then he squeezes the soft flesh of her legs, holding her steady as she lissomely moves her feet to his waist and hooks her toes onto his jeans and arches her hips to tug them down. They drop into the water and the journal tumbles and splashes into the pool.
Marlena doesn’t feel or hear it fall, but John does, and he sighs loudly, his rapidly pounding heart stopping the moment he hears it hit the water. He knows it’s gone. Marlena looks at him and asks what’s wrong. Pausing just a second, then deciding not to slow the pace of their lovemaking, he says quickly, “Nothing… it’s nothing… now do that little trick with my shorts, baby.”
After quickly doing so, Marlena sighs, feeling his naked desire, then invites him to make love to her with an accommodating adjustment of her hips and the impelling pressure of her legs wrapped around him, trying desperately to reign him in as close as possible. Enraptured, John stares into Marlena’s eyes, then groans with gratification when she slams them shut and turns her head, bracing it against the rock, crying out uncontrollably as they begin to make love with the urgency and titanic passion that all the years and days and months apart have created.
As they near the apex of their shared desire, John skims his hands down along Marlena’s arms and pries her from the hold she has on his back. Then, he finds her hands and entwines his fingers tightly between hers, and ardently raises her arms above their heads, and anchors them against the wet rock, all the while looking into Marlena’s beautiful blazing eyes.
She opens her mouth with a paralyzed gasp of pleasure, as together they reach the all encompassing climax to their long denied love. As she closes her eyes with the release, John closes his as well and finalizes the moment by kissing her fiercely, making the sensation even more pleasurable.
John releases her hands and goes to hold her hips, guiding her as she slides down slightly from the elevated position their lovemaking had sent her. She sighs and drops her head down against his chest, and John kisses her wet hair. Their bodies remain locked in exhausted repose, catching their breath, savoring the connection.
“This is so unbelievable, Doc,” John says through an expiring breath, his chin resting atop her head. “Tell me again… tell me you love me, again.” She doesn’t answer, so he waits, feeling her rapid breaths against his skin, and her tight clinch around his whole body. When too much time passes, he suddenly can’t breathe and the pounding of his heart swells into his throat, as a wave of paralyzing fear surges through his body. Panicking, he wonders, ‘Why won’t she say it? She can’t deny it… she won’t. I won’t let her!’ Unable to wait further, he firmly takes her head in his hands and draws it away from his chest. Her eyes are closed tightly, and she is biting her lower lip.
“Doc?” he asks, seeing the grimace on her face. “What is it?”
She pulls his hands away, opens her eyes and gently settles back down against the rock. “It’s nothing… I just, well, sometimes I have these dizzy spells, and I’m fighting one right now,” she says, then adds, giggling lightly, “thanks to you, and what you just did to me….”
“Oh, my God,” he gasps, pulling away from her and picking her up into his arms.
“It’s okay… it’s okay,” she tries to assure him, as she looks up into the sky and sees the world spinning around her. “Really, it’s nothing. Ohhhhh….” She closes her eyes, turns her head and burrows her face between his arm and chest, bracing herself there as the spinning slows and drops her back down to earth, safe in his arms.
John looks around and sees a spot where he can go and lay her down.
“Hold on, baby,” he says and starts to walk through the pool. As he takes his second step, he jerks his head to a halting pause, cocks his eyebrow in alarm, then tries to fall as gently as he can. He’d forgotten his pants were down around his ankles in the water.
“Whoa! Hang on, Doc!” He twists completely around and falls onto his back with a huge splash into the shallow water. Marlena remains locked protectively in his arms, only getting splattered slightly. John whips his head out of the water and blinks to clear the liquid from his eyes so he can see her. She wiggles out of his arms, giggling, and sprawls onto his outstretched frame. John raises himself on his elbows and swallows hard, becoming aroused again at the feel of her naked flesh slithering atop his own.
“You okay, Doc?”
“Look, we’re back where we started, Grace,” she says. They both laugh, as John raises his legs and they see the cause of the tumble, his pants and shorts snarled around his soggy boots.
“Are you still dizzy?”
She smiles and slips seductively up his lean body. “Nope,” she says. Then taking his bearded chin in one hand, she moves in and kisses him hard.
“Oh, by the way….” she starts, then pauses and sweeps her tongue across her lips, and begins grazing upon his chest with lush movements of her mouth, from one pectoral to the other, causing John to spontaneously ripple his chest and groan. “I *love* you,” she finally finishes.
“You love me,” he repeats breathlessly, just a bit too engrossed in what she is doing to him to react fully.
“I love you, love you, love you, love you….”
“Oh, Marlena….”
She inhales, lustfully moans and again busses his lips, this time slowly and deftly, weakening him until his arms give out and they fall back into the flowing waters. The kiss continues, submerged, until their need for air is finally greater than their appetite for each other.
Walking through his epicurean garden, Stefano approaches the statue, reaches up with his hand and slowly caresses the lifeless representation of his obsession. He bites his lip as he looks upon the beautiful stone visage of Marlena and shakes his head.
“Why, Marlena? Don’t you know the dangers you face in the jungle alone? You are such an amazing woman… so strong and beautiful. Like a goddess. But you are all too human and vulnerable….”
He slowly sits down on the bench perched at the delicately posed feet of his stone *goddess*, and grits his teeth. He thinks back on the moment he realized she’d escaped. He’d finally thrown Kristen off of him, and was brushing the crumples out of his clothing and licking his wounds when he looked about the room for her. Her absence screamed out to him, and he attacked a sleeping Val, sending him out with a violent kick and threat of death if Marlena was not returned safe and sound.
Then, he’d sent the rest of his subordinates, who he regretted where in short order–not having anticipated such a bold escape so soon after their arrival on the island. He’d planned on bringing additional personnel later in the month.
Now, he was full of anger at himself for his laxness, at Kristen for all of her foolish interferences, and at John Black for the power he had over Marlena. Even in death he’d taken her away from him again. Stefano growled from deep within his belly and jerked his head to look up at the always peaceful stone interpretation of Marlena.
“Oh, my lovely inamorata… my beloved Marlena. I will not allow you to die like you vowed you would if I… No! John Black will not win and take you with him. No, no, no… you will survive in my arms, forever more!”
After emerging from the underwater kiss, Marlena floats away from John and kneels in the water at his feet. Slowly and gently she removes his boots, then the jeans and boxers that are twisted around his ankles. Gathering them in her arms, she stands up and looks down a John, who beams up at her.
“You’re going to have to revive me, Doc, ‘cause I’m losing my breath here,” he says, sitting up, waist high in the water.
“What are you talking about?” she asks innocently, not realizing the effect she is having on him standing there naked, water dripping off her. She extends her hand to help him up.
He ignores her offer, and rests his arms on his raised knees. He looks up at her, his blue eyes squinting, his jaw tightly clenched, and his nostrils flared. One side of his mouth snakes into an uplifted curve and he motions with a finger for her to come closer. She tilts her head, scrunches up her mouth, and lowers her arm. Then she pivots in the water and begins walking away from him.
He knows she’s teasing him, so he jumps up out of the water and dashes after her. When he catches her and lifts her up swiftly into his arms, she yelps, then screams with laughter.
“Don’t disobey me, woman! You’re gonna pay for that about face!”
She continues to laugh as he strides through the water, then up out of the pool. When he reaches a grassy spot between plants, her laughter retreats, gradually being replaced by rapid breaths and desire, as she looks into his impassioned eyes. He exhales completely, then pauses, holding his breath, and she feels the same overpowering hunger that his intense gestures convey to her. He moves in to kiss her, but she intercepts his advance with her own merciless assault on his mouth, urgently fighting to possess him completely again, feeling it’s impossible to ever get enough.
He drops to his knees, tears his lips away, and sets her gently upon the soft grass. She grimaces at the coldness that this sudden break causes her.
John moves slowly, but intently, caressing her legs and separating them–pulling her gently around him. She moans as he bends and once again kisses around her stomach, trying not to worsen the condition of the tattered dressing.
“Oh, God, Marlena,” he raises his head and looks at her, pain spreading across his face as he lays a trembling hand upon it.
“Quiet, quiet,” she whispers and takes his hand away, moving it to her breast. “Make love to me,” she orders.
As he begins to, kissing and stroking her flesh, she impatiently uses her arms and legs to draw his body tightly against her. She doesn’t want what Kristen did to ruin a single moment of their lives again. She wants him to make her forget the nightmares. And the past.
She knows this is real, but it is so much more than even her most ardent fantasies of him, that it seems dreamlike. All the years away from him… seeing him with other women. It had all been so impossibly confusing and painful. And now…. they make love again, and forget that they were ever apart.
John wakes, opens his eyes, and sees that the day has disappeared. The jungle is becoming shrouded in shadows and the air has cooled with a slight breeze. He also notices his hand is tangled in Marlena’s hair. He gently pries it loose and smooths out her golden locks, brushing them from her face. She is sound asleep on her back, and he sees the goose bumps covering her skin. He moves to warm her with his body when she suddenly turns away from him onto her side, curling into a fetal position. Then, just as abruptly she reverses her position and is facing him–still sleeping.
“Doc?” he whispers, touching her cheek. Marlena releases a huffed moan and swats at John’s arm, then rolls over again. He moves again to hold her, but she wriggles away, again curling into a ball. He tentatively touches her arm, and when she doesn’t swing at him, he smiles and runs his hand gently up and down her arm. Then he tries again to fence her in. He’s determined not to let her continue to shiver while she remains sleeping, so he tucks her body under his large frame, hoping warmth will settle her back into a peaceful slumber.
Then, as John is slipping into a heavenly sleep, with his angel under wing, Marlena jabs him in the ribs and rolls out from under his protective cage.
“Uhhnnnn… noooo!” she cries, and fends him off with wild swoops of her arms as he tries to reach for her, afraid she’ll hurt herself. Her fists bang into his body with loud thuds, but he doesn’t back away.
“Whoa, Doc! Hey… Come on! Doc! Wake up, baby….” he implores. He looks at her grimacing face and can’t believe she still hasn’t woken up–and not heard his steady pleas. Yet, his words go unheeded and she continues her aimless assault on him. She swings and kicks as his attempted grasps at her become futile and he gives up, shields his head under his arms and lets her go at him unimpeded.
“Stop, Doc! Stop!” he screams, then begins to cry, frightened for her–and distressed at his inability to lull her.
“Marlena! Marlena!”
Her screams and desultory hammering finally slacken and slowly Marlena breaks free of the suspended state and shrinks down to the ground, exhausted and sobbing. Immediately, John snatches her slumped body up into his arms and rocks her.
“Shhhh, Honey,” he comforts, stroking her hair and kissing her.
“John?” She asks hoarsely, barely audibly, her head secured safely against his chest by his hand. She reaches up blindly feeling for his face.
“I gotchya, Doc. It’s okay. You’re okay….” He feels helpless as he tries to calm her, feeling her uncontrollable sobbing is beyond his reach.
“John, wha… what… happened?”
“You must have had a nightmare, Marlena,” he says, then reluctantly asks, “Do you remember what it was about? Was it about Kristen? Stefano?”
She pulls back a little, looking up at him, “I don’t know. I don’t remem… I don’t know…. Was I hitting you? I think I was hitting you.”
John feels his heart breaking as he looks at her anguished face, still so beautiful. “Well, I don’t think it was intended for me. You can’t remember what you were dreaming about?” He enfolds her again into his arms when her teeth start chattering and her body gives in to the ever cooling air.
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry, honey, did I hurt you?”
“Hurt? Me? Of course not. Hey, you’re shaking so hard, Doc….” he says, squeezing her, trying to cover every inch of her. She grabs onto his neck, crying irrepressibly into his chest, clinging to him desperately.
“Ohhhh, God,” she sighs heavily between sobs.
“What, Doc? What is it?”
“I don’t know… I just feel so… so *empty* and *afraid*.”
His stomach drops at her words. Now that they were together again, he had hoped to stave off those feelings. To shelter her from pain. Pain that she’d obviously been carrying alone for years. He thought he could do that better now that he was free to be with her. Now that he knew she loved him… and that Kristen was out of his life. But, it eludes him, and he realizes she’s been through way too much, suffered way too much pain to ever feel safe or carefree again. John becomes overwhelmed with guilt and sadness, anger and regret.
“I’m sorry, Honey. I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
“I want to go home, John,” she cries. “I need my baby girl….”
“Shhhh, now,” he says, “We’re going home, baby. I’m gonna take you home. I promise. Soon you’ll be holding Belle in your arms again.”
She sobs into his chest, “No, I don’t think… I don’t think I’m ever going to get home… I don’t even have a home!”
“Yes you do! You’re home’s with me, and Belle, and Brady. And we’re going to get back to them! I promise! Doc, please don’t give up. You gotta be strong now.”
Marlena extracts herself from him, and looks at him. She sees the determination in his eyes and she wants to give in to it, but the fear and loneliness of the past year comes flooding back to her, and suddenly the additional emotion of anger rears up. She doesn’t want to hurt him so she keeps it inside and crawls out of his lap, stands up and runs toward the waterfall.
“Marlena! Doc! Come back!”
In a second he’s behind her. He goes to hold onto her, but she drops to the ground, crouching and shivering.
“Don’t, Doc. Please,” he begs. “Please, let me hold you. You’re cold….”
“No… I – I’m… I’m scared! I feel like it’s the end, and all’s lost…. We’re never going to get out of here, and I’m *not* going to see them again!?
John crouches down too, facing her profile. “Marlena! On my life I swear to you, I’ll get you out of here! And you’ll see the children again! I’m going to do whatever it takes,” he tries to convince her, taking her chin firmly in his fingers and forcing her look at him. She stares again into those strong, sincere eyes and closes hers to avoid them.
“John, please don’t… don’t look at me like that and fill my heart up with hope,” she says through chattering teeth. “I can’t go through it again. I can’t lose everything again.”
“Look at me!”
“I did! AND I CAN’T!”
He growls again, “Look… at… ME! Now!”
She opens her eyes wide, almost as an affront, and glares at him. And she was right. His eyes tell her everything is going to be okay… that he’ll move heaven and earth. But her head knows better.
“John, I know you would do anything for me, but….”
“I would DIE for you!”
‘Oh god, don’t say that,’ she shudders. His words send a shiver down her spine, because she knows he means it and it scares her to death, yet at the same time she loves that he loves her that much.
She jerks out of his grip and her body goes limp. She drops her chin on her arms and admits, “I know you would… and I think you know I would do the same. But don’t you see? Look at us! Look at where we are! Stefano won’t stop, John. Do you think he’s going to let me go? Just walk out of his so called *paradise* without sending someone after me? It’s going to make him want to have me even more! He’s so twisted… the look in his eyes!” She pauses and turns to look at John. “It’s only luck that you’re alive! You know that.”
Shaking his head brusquely, he says, “Oh, no! Uh huh, Doc. Nope. It was more than that, and *you* know it!”
She smiles, “Yes… but, I’m afraid when he finds us he’s going to triumph over even the strength of our love… and kill you–and take me back there.” Tears flicker in the moonlight as they skim down her porcelain features, too fast for John to catch.
“Not gonna happen, Doc. I told you, I’ll protect you with my life!”
Reacting fiercely, she cries, “Don’t say that!” She swipes at him and he grabs her flailing arms.
“What!”
“You can’t protect me! I can’t protect you! We’re vulnerable… just like always!”
He takes her head and pulls her forcefully close–their noses touching. “Knock it off, Marlena,” he growls at her fervently, his eyes blazing red hot. Marlena freezes, and looks at him, letting him see her naked fear.
She allows him to say all he can without words, then when he can say no more, she closes her eyes and takes his head in her hands as well, and whispers, “Nice try, handsome… but you know, and I know, that this time… this *amazing* day… may be all we get.”
Then she lets him go and returns to her position, kneeling, sitting on her heels, and looks up at the moon.
John’s heart sinks as he looks at her silhouetted face and body. He touches her head lovingly, gently… barely at all. “Don’t say that, Marlena. It’s just the beginning for us. I never thought…. God, I never thought I’d ever, *ever* get the chance to touch you like that… make love to you again. To ever say ‘I love you’ out loud again.”
“I know… oh, I know.”
“Then don’t do it, Doc. Don’t give in to despair… not after we just found our way back….” He sees her suddenly clutching herself, shivering uncontrollably. ‘This is *crazy*,’ he thinks. ‘Why won’t she just let me hold her?’ He inches closer to her, and pries her head up from it’s huddled position. When she raises her eyelids, revealing the multitude of conflicting emotions she’s feeling, John quickly kisses her trembling, cold lips.
“Don’t!” She shouts, tearing away and turning her head.
“What? Please… don’t pull away from me.” He slouches, feeling unbearable longing and paralyzing fear, praying that this wall is not made out of stone. Because he knows who built it, but he doesn’t know if she’ll let him dismantle his own handiwork.
Marlena cries into her arms as they rest folded on her raised knees. She is fighting all the pain that’s resurfacing. ‘Why now?’ she wonders. ‘Why now, Marlena? Now that you have him back – finally?’ She feels John’s hand glide down her bare back, then up and back down again, sending warmth to every inch of her. ‘It *feels* so good,’ she thinks. ‘He *smells* so good. I need him so much.’ She doesn’t know why she can’t just let all her fears and bad memories melt away in his warm embrace. Why she won’t just move half a foot to her right and fall into him and let his words of promise and resolve be her reality.
“I know this is all my fault,” John acknowledges, and continues rubbing her back tentatively. “Stefano taking you again. Kristen. God, Kristen… doing the unspeakable! It’s my fault and I don’t think I’ll ever feel I can ever make it up. I don’t want to ever feel I can….”
“No, John, it’s not your….”
“Shush,” he hushes her quickly, tugging her hair gently. “I *have* blame in this, Marlena. And I know *I* must’ve hurt you. I know that. And you have to know that I didn’t mean to do that! I’d never purposely hurt you. Never *you*. He fingers the ends of her blonde locks, and blinks tears from his eyes. He shakes his head up and down as he watches her do the same.
After a moment, he continues, in a different vein, “I just feel like I’m still so in the dark, you know? I need to know, Doc… why? Why didn’t you tell me about Kristen? I remember you told me in the hospital that she was *evil* and had tricked me, but I don’t know about any of it, except about the baby. I only know I believe you.” He pauses, tries to see her face, but can’t, only seeing that she is still shivering. So, he edges closer, almost hunching over her back, and uses both hands to smooth and knead the skin and muscles there. Marlena starts to sway slightly under his strong, impelling caresses, though she is biting her lip hard to stop from turning around and kissing him. Because his words are leading to an area in her mind and heart where there is deep pain, and conflicting emotions. As he works to relax and warm her, she works to quell that pain.
“Why didn’t you tell me you loved me? When did it all change? I never let you tell me, did I? There were so many times… times when it seemed like you were going to tell me something. And I, and I, felt sometimes like it was *that*, THAT YOU LOVED ME, that you wanted to tell me. Tell me you loved me. Am I right, Doc?”
“Yes!” She turns and yells. Then quietly, “Yes. I wanted to tell you I still loved you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Why didn’t *you*!”
John slowly stops his massage, then rests his hands on her hunched shoulders. She bends her head back, covering his fingers, and sighs. Neither answer the other’s question, and moments pass in silence amidst the roar of the waterfall and the various noises emanating from the surrounding jungle morass.
“Oh, Marlena,” John finally whispers, and gently lowers his body down over hers. He eases his chin over her shoulder and turns his face into hers and just breathes. She raises her hand to his cheek and caresses it, then lifts her eyes to the forest ceiling and admires the beauty of the moonlight as it dusts the treetops.
Marlena, scared of the distance she is putting between them, and tired of fighting the cold, lets John pull her slowly into his arms, enveloping her entirely, holding her in his lap. She smiles wistfully, inhales, thinking of all the times she was close to him and could smell him, but couldn’t be this *close*. She rests her head back against him and returns to gaze above, to the vast heights of the forest. He looks at her skyward looking eyes and sees the moonlight flickering in them, and is amazed at their endless beauty. ‘Marlena’s eyes–the very mirror to her *soul*, where even greater beauty resides,’ he reflects.
She curls up in his strong tenure, and sighs as she begins abstracting the warmth of John’s body to her own. She suddenly feels very small… inside his arms and in this gigantic, mangled environment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. None of this is really your fault. Kristen is to blame,” she says and turns her head, resting her hand and the side of her face against his chest. “She’s done so many things… I don’t know where to start, John.” She pauses, listening to his heart beating directly under her ear, and takes note of it’s sudden acceleration. She can also feel his breathing becoming unsteady. She looks up at his face without moving her head. He’s looking straight ahead, through eyes at once blazing with strength and swimming in tears. They sparkle with such drama and beauty, she’s mesmerized. Then when he blinks, the proof of his anguish plummets down his cheeks, and onto her arm.
“Start at the beginning, Doc,” he says, exhaling shakily.
‘Okay,’ she thinks, ‘I guess it’s more than time that you knew everything.’
Marlena wraps her arms tightly around John and says, “Uhm, before I tell you anything about what Kristen’s done in the past year, there’s something you need to know.” She closes her eyes, and presses her lips against where his heart now pounds wildly.
“What is it, Doc?”
“Well, she’s here. On this island… if this *is* an island.”
He looks down at her, and asks in rapid succession, “You saw her? Did she have the baby with her? Did she try to hurt you again?”
“Well,” she tells him, “she had the baby, but they sent him back to Salem, I think. You know, I don’t want to talk about it, I just wanted you to know she was here.”
“Okay, okay… now tell me about what she’s done.”
Marlena swallows, as tears suddenly drown her eyes. She’s waited *forever* it seemed, and now with the moment at *her* hand, she doesn’t know how to start. Then the sweet comfort of his body holding hers makes her want to fall sleep in his arms and never tell him. Never reveal how Kristen deceived *him* and tormented *her*, keeping this very day of reunion from happening for so long.
“You… you know, I’m not sure that it even matters anymore, John,” she states quietly. “I mean, we’ve admitted our love… we’ve *made* love… again, despite her schemes. Let’s forget the past and concentrate on getting home, okay?”
“No. No, Marlena, I don’t think so. That won’t work,” he implores, realizing she’s probably right, but his need to know is paramount.
“It’s just so painful… I don’t want to waste this time on *her*,” she says, beginning to cry now.
“Oh, sweetheart,” John suspires achingly, as he begins to rock her and cry as well. He expels several more agonizing breaths, before insisting, “I don’t want to know how she’s hurt you, but I have to. I just have to,” he says in a deep whisper, which she hears echoing in his chest. His eyes continue to look unflinchingly into the distance, as he takes his hand and tenderly strokes the side of her face with his rough, slightly trembling fingertips.
“I don’t want you to feel anymore pain,” she says, grabbing his fingers and tilting her head back to look at his face fully.
With grief filled eyes, and trembling lips, John takes her head in his hands, her fingers still wrapped around his, and kisses her lightly. Then, his lips still touching hers, he says, crying, “Baby, I don’t want *you* to feel any more pain either.” Then they slowly bring their lips together again, both wanting to soothe away all and any pain.
As John breaks away from the healing, consoling kiss, Marlena bursts out with a breathless sob.
“Are you okay? You’re not dizzy again?”
“No… I’m okay,” she cries. “I just never want to lose you again… never want to be without that.”
He pulls her into a hug, “Shhhh, Doc, you’re never going to be without me again. I’m never letting you go… not going to make that mistake ever again!” He feels her relax some, and he rests his head on hers. Swallowing hard, he closes his eyes and forces himself to ask, “Okay, Marlena… now I need to know.”
At his words, she again stiffens and tightens her hold around him, which makes John’s stomach twist into a knot. He kisses her head and braces her against him. ‘Oh, God,’ he thinks, ‘look at what you’ve done to her, John. She can’t even think about this without it making her balk… oh, Doc, I’m so sorry.’
“Well, uh…” she begins haltingly, wondering just where to start. “Uhm, let me first tell you when I knew I still loved you… when I couldn’t deny it anymore–cause you know, I don’t think I ever stopped.”
“Doc,” John starts, then is silenced when Marlena quickly interrupts him.
“Don’t. Don’t say anything. I realized, you know, that you were still so much a part of me when you saved my life. Saved my *soul*. And I knew, with my whole being that I loved you as much as life itself. But, that time was so hard for me. I was trying to deal with everything… with all I’d done. I had to make amends. I *had* to help *him*.”
“Stefano,” John growls.
“Yes, Stefano,” she says heavily. “And by the time I had begun to forgive myself, and get my life back together, well, you were with Kristen. You were trying to have a baby with her, and you seemed happy. So, since all I ever really wanted for you… because you’ve had so much unhappiness in your life, was for you to be *happy*. I let you go. Tried to forget how much I loved you.”
“Oh, Doc, I never sensed it… you never let on. I – I can’t believe this. I knew you were going through a lot then. I just – I never wanted to add to it,” John whispers.
“I guess we both felt that way. I *had* to hide my feelings from you. You were getting on with your life. I wanted you to finally find happiness. I knew you loved her. I thought she was a good person… maybe she was then. I don’t know. And, I think we were just both still trying to get over the past; to survive the best we could–from the pain of the affair, my divorce… Sami. So many things going on.”
“Yes,” he agrees, “I think that’s it. And Kristen… she was under the gun with the medical condition. There wasn’t time to….”
“Right. So, that was that.”
“That was that.”
Marlena sighs, and John follows hers with one of his own. Then, in unison, they both inhale deeply, filling their lungs with the cool misty air. They hold each other in silence. Marlena, still not certain she can, or wants to continue, takes a moment to reaffirm that she’s actually here with him, naked in his arms, so she looks up at John. He looks at her, too. While she’s feeling more secure, she sees anxiety in his eyes, and tears–which he quickly tries to wipe away. She realizes she has to continue, so that he doesn’t have to worry and wonder anymore about everything that went on without his knowledge. ‘He’s so trusting and kind,’ she thinks, ‘and that’s what made what Kristen and Stefano did so evil. I have to let him know, even if their actions cause him to feel like he played a fool. He wants to know, so I want him to know.’
“Are you alright?” Marlena asks John.
He thinks to himself, ‘No, not really. I don’t know if I can bear to hear this… to hear the sound of your voice full of such misery.’ So, he closes his eyes, to hide his pain, and turns his head away. She tugs his beard and makes him turn back. When he finally opens his eyes reluctantly, she kisses him with persevering passion. He welcomes it and doesn’t let her go when she breaks it. After almost losing themselves entirely, Marlena pulls away, and breathlessly says, “I’m sorry this hurts you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He just looks at her, lost in her compassionate, loving eyes. He gently caresses her face, gently touching every inch with his fingers. Then he kisses her forehead and whispers insistently, “*You* could never hurt me. Now, go on, I want to hear it all.”
Marlena eases back into his arms again, and is about to begin when the loud growling of her stomach interrupts her. “Oooo, hope that didn’t wake any man-eating predators,” she laughs.
“Marlena! When was the last time you ate something?”
She laughs a little more, “Well, not for a long time. I had a little bit of the meal Stefano gave me. I didn’t want to, but I couldnt resist that key-lime pie.”
“Oh, my god,” he says, starting to move to get up.
“No! Don’t you move!” she shouts, “I’ll be fine. Let’s just finish this. I want it over.”
“I do too, Doc,” he says, “but you need to eat!”
“I said, *don’t you move* Tarzan.”
He sighs, laughing tenuously and settling back down, “Uh, whatever you say, Doc. I mean, Jane.”
Marlena giggles quietly and cuddles down again into the warm comfort of John’s arms. And then, after a minute of silent repose, John presses his lips to her hair and wordlessly urges her to continue by nudging her slightly.
“When everything went so wrong in Aremid….”
“Aremid. *DiMera* spelled backwards… should’ve noticed that red flag.”
“Hmmm, yes…. When you came so close to being executed… well, all my attempts to bury the love I felt for you failed, but still, I held back, because I thought you wanted to make things right with Kristen, and she manipulated me by reminding me of the hurt our love had caused everyone in the past. So, I fought to bury my love again, and I urged you to go to her. And those times, when you felt I wanted to tell you, and when I felt you wanted to tell me? Well, it was because of her – because of what she’d say to me,” John squeezes her shoulders when she stops and lets out a choked breath. She swallows and breathes deeply, trying not to remember all of it *too* clearly, and continues, “John, like the time she told me that you had said you were *relieved* when I told you I only wanted to be friends, so you and she could be together, and you wouldn’t be burdened by me. She told me things and made me feel certain ways, and I *trusted* her. Until….” She pauses, then says, “Until I read the letter, and I saw that things weren’t what they seemed.”
“Doc?”
“Uh, huh?”
He clears his throat a couple of times, then asks in a deep, quiet voice laced with trepidation, “Wouldn’t be a letter I wrote to you when I was going to be executed? ‘Cause I lost that.”
“I think you lost it to Kristen. I FOUND IT, and then I found out she’d been the one who hid it there, in the book you picked for me to read one night.”
“Oh, my God!? John shouts. “You *read* my letter? You READ IT? And, *Kristen* had it?”
Marlena, startled by his strong reaction, pulls back and looks at him.
“Well, yes, I read it.”
“Why didn’t you *tell* me? I can’t believe it! That was such a long time ago!” The anguish in his eyes causes them to darken, and they look at her with such confusion and disquiet.
“I tried to tell you. I did. But we kept being interrupted, and then,” she pauses and suddenly feels detached there in his arms, so she leaves them, standing up and taking a few steps away.
“Don’t. Don’t get up,” John shakes his head, looking at her, reaching for her. When she doesn’t come back, tears fill his eyes and he stands too. “Please… Doc? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. What were you going to say? Honey?” He closes his eyes tightly and with one shaking hand slowly extending, pleads, “Don’t leave me standing here alone.”
Marlena tilts her head slightly, and with sadness and love in her eyes, she begins to cry. She wraps her arms around herself and walks the short distance to him.
“John….”
He opens his eyes and lets out an uncontrolled sob the moment he sees her take a step forward. His hand stiffens, and his heart quakes in anticipation of her. Then, when she is within his reach, he sweeps her up into his arms powerfully, desperately, and quickly finds her face, then lips, and he kisses her ravenously.
Marlena feels the desperation in John’s kiss and reciprocates with equal intensity, as he lifts her up and she lashes her legs around him with such force he almost loses his balance. Firmly, he grasps her hips with his large hands, and finds his footing, as she quickly flings her arms around his neck, keeping his mouth staunchly fixed on hers.
Then John begins to end the kiss by slowly moving his mouth away from hers, and sensuously sucking on her lips… tasting her–fueling the rush of desire that was exploding through his body. Marlena climbs slightly upwards as his mouth dances across the line of her jaw and down her neck.
She holds him tightly as he drops to his knees.
When the moon becomes eclipsed by a rustling of clouds filling up the sky, John and Marlena instinctively cling even more closely together. She lowers herself down and begins to kiss John’s mouth again. Then she grabs his shoulders and allows herself to fall backwards–gravity taking his body with her. Once flat on the ground, John rolls over, draping Marlena over him, and he glides his hands up and down her back and sides, and then lightly with his fingertips–enjoying the feel of her body twitching and quivering at his nimble touch. ‘Oh, how I’ve missed this woman!’ he thinks, overjoyed at what still seems like a dream.
Marlena leaves John’s neck, where she’d been nuzzling, and places her hands on his sweaty pecs, lifting herself up slightly, then moving her legs to sit astride him. John’s hands reach for her face and he lightly grazes over every inch of her petal soft features, barely able to visibly see her, but recognizing them simply by touch.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever *seen*… ever *known*. I love you so, Marlena….” he says deeply and slowly–his voice sounding almost like he’s not opening his mouth to speak, but as though it’s coming from his very heart.
He brushes back her toppled tresses.
“I love you, too….” she says, her words soft, but resolute. “I’m sorry I walked away.” Then she touches his face as he’d touched hers, remembering how she used to wake up wishing she could roll over and see him next to her, his handsome face just inches from hers. Then wait until he woke up too, opening up his protean blue eyes to see that she was there, looking at him, and they’d light up like flares and glow with love for her. That was how it had been. *Everyday*. Years ago. And now, suddenly overcome with memories… she wants him more than *ever*. As she is about to bend and kiss him, he draws her close with an ardent tug from behind, throwing her timing off and making her cry out as her body slams against his and he rolls over on top of her. Then as he begins flourishing hard succulent kisses across the tender, sensitive flesh of her breasts, her blood temperature soars, and she loses all train of thought.
As John concentrates on arousing her further, Marlena closes her eyes and arches her back and cries, “Oh, god… oh, god! I want you…. Oh, *Roman*!”
The map is ready, so he folds it neatly and puts it in his pocket. His heart is beating slightly quicker than usual as he thinks about everything, confident that his plan is ready and executable. Then Abe reaches for the phone. There’s just one more person to call.
“Lex?”
He sits down and loosens his tie as he tells her he’s leaving town for a while, and he doesn’t even have time to come home… or kiss her good-bye.
“Don’t worry, Lexie, I promise to call, and don’t tell anyone about any of this. I probably shouldn’t even be calling you. You know that man has informers everywhere and bugs planted.” His brows furrow, hoping he’s wrong about that. Screwing up isn’t in this plan.
“I have to go, honey… okay, but don’t worry. I’m going to bring them back, I promise… this can’t fail, or I don’t know what,” he tells her.
“Good-bye, I love you.” He hangs up the receiver slowly, then taps his finger on it, thinking of her… wishing he could have said good-bye in person. Because he knows this is probably the most dangerous, precarious mission he’s ever undertaken.
It didn’t occur to her at first what she’d said, but she knew she’d never felt John, or any other man, retreat from her so abruptly during lovemaking. But, there he was, one second kissing her body with passion and momentum, then stopping dead in his tracks, stiffening and lifting himself away from her, leaving her to shiver at the sudden cold that swept down upon her.
“John? What’s wrong?” she asks, “Why are you stopping? Honey?”
Breathlessly, as he settles onto the ground beside her, looking up at the sky, he sweeps his hand down along his face, then rests it upon his heaving chest, and blows out an extended breath. Then, turning to look at her, she sees the hurtful, questioning look in his eyes and it elicits to her just what she’d done. What she’d *said*. But, before she can open her mouth to say anything, John says, “You called me *Roman*, Doc. *Roman*.”
“Oh, honey,” she sighs, taking her finger and lightly dusting his bottom lip with it. “I – I didn’t….”
He takes her finger, squeezes it, and quickly interrupts her, “Doc. It’s okay. I understand.”
“No, you *don’t*,” she urges, seeing he’s hurt, and realizing he doesn’t understand at all.
He sits up and combs his beard with his fingers, staring blankly ahead, not responding to what she said. So, she sits up as well, and kneels next to him, firmly takes his head in her hands, and gently raising it, waiting until his eyes find hers.
“John, I didn’t mean for that to happen, honey. But you have to know….”
“I do, Doc. I know. You’ll always have a place in your heart for Roman,” he says, inhaling deeply, looking away from her piercing stare above to the sequestered sky, all his insecurities about Roman coming to the surface like a wave of nausea. “You really loved him. You’d still be with him if….”
Marlena stops him, “Don’t, John! Ok? Please?” She sighs, remembering how she’d loved Roman Brady so much… once. She tries but fails to stop John from taking her wrists and pulling her hands away from his face in a slightly defeated gesture. He holds them tightly, looking at them… then brings them up to his lips kissing them hard.
John looks at her, steely-eyed, and says, “It’s the truth, Doc. You know that! You’d still be married to the man if I hadn’t pursued you and forced the situation.”
“No, stop!” she insists. “I believe God’s forgiven us *both* for that. I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I don’t regret it… because I love *you*, and it gave us *Belle*! Our daughter! I will *never* call her a mistake!”
John shakes his head, “Oh, Doc, no… I didn’t mean that. I’d never call Belle that either. I just meant that – that I know you still love him, and I’m sorry. Oh, God. I don’t know anymore. I just loved you so much. I *LOVE* you so much! I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry….” he says and looks at her lovingly.
“No, baby, *I’m* sorry. I’m sorry to confuse you, John.”
“Huh?”
She smiles sweetly, compassionately, “It wasn’t *Roman* I meant when I said that… well, it was in a way, but not the way you think.”
“What do you *mean*, Doc?” he interrupts, a confounded look on his face and in his voice.
“John… when you were touching me, and kissing me, I was transported.
I was remembering *us*… *YOU*, back when we were married. When *you* were *Roman*. That’s all. I wasn’t thinking about Roman at all… just you, Honey. Only *you*.”
She watches as a smile moves across his face and he shyly looks up at her. Into her eyes. He sighs and relaxes, feeling a little foolish, but relieved and happy to hear her words.
“I love you,” he says, laughter mixing with relieved tears. Then he kisses her with tenderness and longing. When their lips separate, their eyes make contact, and John suddenly realizes that he has been selfish in his insecurity. He looks away quickly and knows he doesn’t deserve the love she feels for him. The love she just expressed.
“Marlena,” he says, “I can’t believe I acted like that. I can’t believe I… this isn’t fair.”
“What? What’s not fair, John?”
“I got a knot in my stomach when I heard you call out his name, and I felt hurt. But, it can’t be anywhere near what you must’ve felt.”
“Me?”
He sighs and rolls his eyes, thinking now about it all. About all the times….
His muscles tighten and he feels sick. He doesn’t know how to apologize, let alone broach the subject.
“John, what’s the matter?”
He grits his teeth, and says, “Well, Doc… you know, uh… uh, seeing me with Kristen. That must’ve really hurt you.”
Marlena flinches, and reflexively takes back her hands from his hold. She hadn’t expected him to say that. Immediately it brought tears to her eyes, as those memories flash into her mind, rushing back like a whirlwind.
“Oh, my god, and the time you saw us in the wine cellar.” John groans, as he remembers now about that day. Abe had suggested that she’d seen he and Kristen making love down there, and he’d seen her discomfort later when he asked her about it–hoping that if she had seen them, she’d tell him it *had* upset her. But she’d said it hadn’t mattered seeing them. She’d only admitted to being slightly embarrassed. That was what he thought anyway… because that’s what she’d said. But it hadn’t been the truth. Looking back now… remembering the look on her face–he knew what that look meant *now*.
“Marlena. Sweetheart….” He reaches for her, wanting to erase the pain he’d inflicted, but she keeps her distance, mooring her arms around herself and avoiding his eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about that. About that time, please.”
“Awww, don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry.” She swipes at her tears. “I… you know me. Doesn’t take much for me to cry,” she laughs softly. “It’s just, it’s just that that was such a painful memory, to have now.”
“….and I brought it up. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Shhhh,” he chastens, and helps her wipe away her tears, as his begin to fall. “God, I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“You know, I just – I just don’t want to think about that time. Ever again.”
“We’ve got so much to talk about, Doc… don’t, please, don’t shy away from it. Come here… come closer,” he instructs her and wraps her in his arms.
They cuddle for a long while.
“Now,” John says finally, whispering into her ear, “tell me about Kristen. The letter.”
“Ohhh,” she groans, and tenses up, not wanting to think about Kristen again. Then taking his hand in hers, and bringing it to her mouth, she whispers seductively, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather continue doing what we were doing?”
“Hmmm….”
“Want to? Huh?”
Then to entice him, she artfully begins licking and sucking on his fingers.
John closes his eyes and fights the sensations she’s delivering. Instinctively he begins touching her. He wants to go back to making love to her, but he really wants to know. Has to know. He has to make her tell him.
“No, baby,” he murmurs, “Mmmmm… no, no, no,” he begs her as he twists his hand from her hold, slowly extracting his pinky finger from her mouth, as she reluctantly lets it slip away.
He feels her sigh disappointedly. Then she says, pouting, “Okay. But I’m getting cold again.”
“Then you’ll just have to let me hold you even closer, Doc. ‘Cause I can’t find either of our clothes in this dark.”
“Alright, alright,” she says, letting him take her in his arms. “Now, where did we leave off?”
“Hummmm.”
“Oh, yeah, you were *kind of* upset that I didn’t tell you about the letter.”
“Right. Sorry again….”
She slaps his thigh lightly, “Quit that. Okay, let me see. Well, like I said before, we kept getting interrupted. We couldn’t seem to get a moment alone together. And then, well, Victor had a stroke.”
“Oh,” John mutters, “when Vic had his stroke, uh huh, I remember.”
“Right. We all went to the hospital,” she says, then smooths her hand over the arm wrapped around her middle. “And I had the letter in my pocket. I kept touching it. Reading it over and over and over.”
“Oh… You did?” He asks, touched deeply with the idea of her doing that.
“Uh huh. I was so… so *overjoyed* when I read it. You just don’t know. I couldn’t read it enough. Each time I read it was like getting the greatest gift.”
John squeezes her tightly, and kisses her head.
“Of course, that was also the day Kristen told you she was pregnant.”
“Oh, Doc,” he says, “Was that why you didn’t tell me?”
She shakes her head, “No. You know, I was still going to tell you, but… well, more interruptions, and then, I started to question whether you *still* loved me. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, and maybe I had no right, after failing to be honest with you long before, to interrupt your life with Kristen.”
“I see, but,” he starts.
“No, let me continue,” she says, reaching up behind her and feeling his face–gently stroking his beard. “Then the trip with Rachel came up. Remember I told you I wanted to move to San Francisco?”
“Uh huh, yep. You scared me senseless with that. Stopped my heart literally.”
“Suppose I did, but I wanted distance. I needed to get away from you. I couldn’t look at you and not ache all over. It was getting to be too much. If I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want to have to watch you with Kristen anymore. Watching even when you just touched her slightly. It was killing me.”
“I know *that* feeling. I mean… well, it was so hard having you so close. Living in the same house with you, Doc. Bumping into you in the hall… and, god, just smelling your perfume in the air after you left. It followed me around, torturing me. Then, when you’d come back, step through the door and I’d – I’d just want to run to you and hold you. Tell you how much I missed you while you were gone.”
“Hmmm,” she sighs, remembering having similar experiences. “Oh, I wish you had.”
“I couldn’t. You only wanted to be my friend. Just *friends*. I couldn’t impose on your life again. I decided I had to go on with my life. I couldn’t even let myself dream of having you again. I had to accept the fact that I would never know the love I had with you ever again. It had happened once, and I had to be happy with that,” he says, swallowing back the urge to sob uncontrollably, because the memory of having to face that fact had been devastating, after realizing he still loved her just as much as the day they’d married.
“Me, too. I decided to forget about the letter, and let you go on with your life with *her* – until I found out what she’d done.” She pauses, and breathes deeply.
“You know, this isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. It feels good talking about it.”
“I’m glad. You’re doing great.”
“Well, we’ll see.” She closes her eyes and leans way back into him, letting the security of his body reassure her that this was real and that the past was going to be in the *past* from now on. ‘I’ll be free when he knows everything,’ she thinks to herself, smiling. “This is very cathartic, really.”
“You’re right, Doc. ‘Cause from now on, no more suffering in silence for you, or being alone. I’m going to be here for you, for the rest our lives.”
“Oh, John… I pray that’s true.”
“It is. Believe me it is,” he says emphatically. Then quietly asks, “So what did you find out that she did?”
She shifts in his arms and rests her head against his chest, comforted by the beating of his heart. “That night… the night before the trip, I overheard Kristen telling her mother… well, Rachel was sleeping, but I heard her say that she’d hid the letter from me, and *you*, John. So, I confronted her. I was so angry. Then she admitted it. And I saw who she really was. I saw *Stefano’s* daughter.”
“My god,” John breathes. “So, why didn’t you come to me right then?”
“The baby. The baby again. She had a cramp, and I’m pretty sure it was a fake one. It was just timed so perfectly. She’s so devious, so manipulative. So, I told myself it could wait until morning. You were so concerned about her.”
“I never would have suspected, Doc.”
“Of course you wouldn’t have. She was so convincing.”
“You didn’t tell me in the morning, either.”
“No, you left for the airport before I could.”
“Well, you didn’t go that day anyway. And I still don’t know how DiMera found out what plane you were on.”
“Honey,” Marlena starts to say. Then John unwraps his arms from around her and grabs her shoulders, realizing what she’s about to say.
“Kristen told him,” John says matter of factly, stunned at his own words. “What a fool. I told one person the number of that plane. Someone who I thought I could trust–trust with *your* life! He almost took you away that day!”
“But he didn’t,” she whispers, trying to assure him, as he enfolds her in his arms again, squeezing her so tightly she can’t breath for a moment.
“How could she? How could she do that to you… to me? To *us*?” He presses his mouth hard against her head. “So, when she tried to kill you, it wasn’t the first time she tried to take you away from me,” he cries, kissing her head over and over.
“No, it wasn’t.” She turns her head and looks up at him. “Can we stop now? Can we sleep?”
John closes his eyes, and sets his jaw, “No, I’m sorry, but I have to know the rest.”
“Why? Can’t it wait?” She moves her hand over his shoulder and down his densely muscled arm, then back again. “Can’t you just hold me, and let me sleep?”
She hears him swallow hard.
“This is killing you isn’t it?” he asks. “You’ve been through hell and worse, and I did nothing. I did *nothing*! I should have known better. I should have sensed your pain. I should have known. I failed you on so many levels, Doc.”
“Don’t….”
“Did she help him, Doc, the time he succeeded? When he took you?” He beseeches her–demanding her to tell him.
“I don’t know.”
“Dammit, I’ll bet she did! He took you! And… and he, he put you in that damn cage, and none of it would have happened if I’d kept my promise!”
“John, please.”
“I promised to protect you, Marlena, and I failed over and over… and OVER!”
She feels his breathing become uneven and his heart pounding so hard against her it makes her own heart race. She starts to try and soothe him by kissing his hand and then turning around and kissing his chest, then up to his neck.
John takes her head in his hands and pleads, “Stop, Marlena. Don’t. I can’t believe you still love me. I can’t believe you made love to me.”
“John!”
“NO!” he screams, staring her directly in the eyes. “Don’t! Don’t you tell me not to blame myself. I won’t let you… because it’s my fault! It’s all my fault!”
“Please, John! You’re too upset. Calm down,” she implores, taking his hand again and resting her head in it. “Let’s not do this, okay?”
“What else, Marlena? What else did she do?”
Marlena sighs heavily, closes her eyes and says, “Please, please, John, I want to stop. I want to sleep, so I can dream of happier things.”
“Tell me,” he says, trying to calm down for her sake, but feeling the anger burn in him like a raging fire. “I’m sorry, baby, but I can’t let you sleep. Not yet.”
“I wish,” she starts, then stops.
John waits, but when she doesn’t complete her thought, he jerks her, and asks, “What, Marlena? What do you wish?”
“Never mind.”
“Oh, no you don’t. I want to know what you wish.”
“Well,” she says, “this would be so much easier for me if I could just hand you something. But, I guess that would be cheating yet, I somehow always secretly wanted you to read it.”
“What?” John asks, then the moment he says it, he knows the answer, and his heart comes to a screeching halt.
Marlena places her hand over her pounding heart, thinking about her journal and all the horrible things she’d had to write in it. Then the feeling of being trapped crushes down on her, when memories of being in the cage come back, hitting her broadside with unwanted images and sensations. Trying not to let it get to her, she tries to remember where she’d left it, and what she’d last written in it. Then she recalls that she’d made an entry that last night… before everything happened. Before John had seen Stefano in the garden, and before Kristen tried to kill her. Unable to recall specifically what the last entry had been about, she assumes it was about the same old thing. Because no matter how hard she tried to be positive, to be hopeful, she always came back to writing about something Kristen had done, still addressing each entry with *Dear John*, even though she’d been freed and was back home, having no intention of ever showing it to him.
“Honey,” she says, “do you remember in Paris I kept….”
“Listen, Doc… there’s something I have to tell you,” John sighs, closing his eyes, and trying to breath again. He feels such anger at himself. Always having to tell her *something*.
He suddenly feels uncomfortably hot, sweating profusely. He doesn’t know how to tell her.
“What? Tell me what, John?” She senses his anxiety as he tenses and drops his arms from around her.
“I had your journal, but I lost it, Doc. I’m so sorry.”
“What do you mean? *You* had my journal? When? What are you talking about?”
John shifts uncomfortably. “I lost it here. In the forest. Well, first I found it, then I packed it with the clothes I got from the house for you. I didn’t know that I had, but when I was unpacking for you, I found it there. So, I intended to give it to you when you came back to the room, which you never did.”
“Oh,” she sighs. “And you….”
“I – well, when you didn’t come back, I *knew*. I *feared* something was wrong, so I brought it with me when I went to find you. And I hung on to it, Doc, through everything, until….” He swipes the sweat from his forehead and back through his hair. Marlena feels his distress and holds his hand. “I wanted so badly to give it to you when I found you.”
“But you lost it.”
“Uh huh. I’m sorry.” He coughs, and tenderly fiddles with her fingers, “I forgot about it, and then, well it fell into the water when we were making love, Doc.”
“Ohhh, no….” Marlena says, then chuckles lightly.
“Uh, not funny,” John says, “I wanted to give it to you… and I guess I maybe could have dove in after it, but….”
“But, it wasn’t a priority?” she laughs again.
John feels somewhat exasperated by her condoning attitude. “Doc, I feel really bad here. Having it with me was like… like I had *you* with me. Part of you was with me, helping me survive so I could find you again. And then I did. So I let it go. But, I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t have taken it, you know. Wasn’t mine to take. I should have known I’d lose it, or have it taken from me. I just didn’t think – I wasn’t thinking.”
Marlena’s tone changes as she listens to him. “Did you read it?”
“No. Oh, no,” he stresses. “I sort of had it in my head that I’d give it to you when I found you and then you could maybe read it to me. Dumb, huh? And now, it’s gone.”
“Oh, Honey….”
John kisses her hand and with emotion in his voice, says, “I remember trying to read it. While you were in the cage. But, I could never get close enough. I thought maybe you were writing something that could help me find where Stefano had you.”
“You saw me writing?”
“Yes, through the goggles.”
“Oh, yeah, those goggles….”
“I did read something. I could make out… *Kristen*. And I guess I know now what you must have been writing about, but at the time, well, I didn’t.”
Marlena again is visited by flashbacks, so she closes her eyes tight and tries to banish them, but begins to cry when she feels the pain so acutely rushing through her psyche.
“Doc, I want you to tell me now, okay? Tell me what you wrote?”
“John, I don’t think….”
“I know you were writing to *me*, so I’m wondering if you still might want me to know?” When he realizes she’s crying, he shakily brushes his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, and feels her shiver at his touch.
“Well, yes,” she whispers. “I do… but, oh, I just don’t like thinking about it.”
“I know. I know you don’t.”
She looks at John and touches her finger to his lips, and says, “It’s okay. I do want to tell you.” Then she’s silent for a moment as she tries to think of what to say first, when suddenly she’s stricken with an agonizing realization that makes her feel sick to her stomach.
“Oh, my god, John,” she exclaims. “The letter! It was in my journal! Oh, no!”
“Doc….”
She bends and cries into her hands.
“It was?” John asks, flustered by her overwhelming distress.
“Your letter, your letter, oh John! That letter meant so much to me!”
He gathers her into his arms and tries to console her by gently rocking her and shushing her. “I’m sorry, Honey. I didn’t know. But it was only a piece of paper, Marlena. Only paper.”
“I know… I *know* that,” she cries, hitting his arm with soft slaps of weary acknowledgment.
“Well, Doc, you know, maybe we don’t need those reminders anymore.”
She shakes her head in agreement, though she still feels the emptiness of knowing she will never be able to read the letter again. Never see his words of love to her. Never to hold it and see his handwriting – the physical proof that he still loved her, when she needed that more than anything. It was all she had for so long.
After letting her calm down for a few minutes, and when he can tell she’s no longer crying, and is breathing evenly, John persuades her to return to where they’d left off.
“Well,” she begins, “I persuaded Stefano to give me something to write in. I convinced him that it would help me deal with the pain of being separated from everyone, from *you*. So, I wrote down my thoughts and I wrote down things about Kristen and Stefano. It was *so* comforting, somehow to feel I was talking to you.”
“What was it you said about Kristen, Doc? What were you writing when I was watching you?”
“Well, I told you already, how she helped Stefano. Telling him about the plane. But, I continued writing in it after we got home. And I wrote about the things she was doing, and about my frustrations.”
“But, Doc, when you were in Paris what did you write to *me*?”
“That I loved you, and had always loved you and always will. And I wrote about what Stefano….”
“You wrote about that, Doc?”
“What?”
“About that sick offer he made you? God, he is such a sick bastard!” John’s skin begins to crawl as he remembers eavesdropping on them with the goggles, and hearing Stefano suggest she sleep with him or harm would come to her children, to innocent little Belle. He squeezes his eyes shut, as he feels his blood run cold and that panicked, desperate… helplessness.
And his mind travels to a question he has harbored since that time, unable to even approach her to ask, knowing it’s not fair and it’s better kept in the past. Especially now.
“You heard *that*?” Marlena asks, never having thought of that possibility, though she’d known he’d had the goggles and could have. “I – I didn’t know. What’s wrong?” She hears his breathing intensifying and feels his body tensing. “John, what is it?”
Coming out of his troubled thoughts, John says, “Nothing, Doc. *Nothing*. Want to stand up for a minute, honey? To stretch? Think I feel a cramp coming.” He doesn’t wait for a response, but stands quickly, bringing her with him.
“Ohhh,” Marlena moans once she’s standing. “What’s wrong? Whoa…. Oh, Lordy.”
“Doc?” He quickly steadies her, and she grabs his arm, squeezing tight as the dizziness begins to overtake her. She closes her eyes and waits for it to stop, but it doesn’t. “You’re dizzy again, aren’t you?”
“Mmmhmm,” she moans, wanting to rest her head against him. “…kind of hurts, too.”
“What can I do?”
“Hold me,” she says, as he surrounds her with arms so inviting, she has to catch her breath. “Just hold me and tell me you won’t let go.”
“Da… Doc,” he stammers, really afraid for her. “Doc, you know… You KNOW, I’ll always be here to hold you. Never going to let you go. Ever again. Not ever, you hear me? Are you okay?”
All she can do is hold onto him.
He picks her up and carries her toward what looks like a tree in the near distance, through the darkness.
“Hang on, Doc, you’ll be fine,” he whispers as he steps gingerly on the forest floor, trying not to feel the sharp objects jabbing into the bottoms of his bare feet. He reaches the spot, feeling slightly weak, and very slowly sets Marlena down on the soft mossy ground, against the ample trunk of the large tree.
“There you go, Honey,” he says, squatting next to her. “Morning’s just around the corner and then I’ll be able to see, and I’ll get you something to eat.”
Marlena rests her head against the rough surface and is silent, with her eyes closed, concentrating on restoring her equilibrium. John watches her worriedly. His eyes drop to her stomach where he squints and sees that the bandage is completely gone. He struggles to swallow and takes one of her hands in his, and with the back of the hand holding hers, he gently presses it down upon the swollen and bruised, still stitched-up wound. He takes his other hand and covers the top of her head with it, then closes his eyes and says a prayer for her to heal quickly, because he worries about infection setting in, and he can’t bear to see her suffer. And he won’t let her die.
‘Lord, I can’t lose her,’ he prays, fighting back his tears. ‘Don’t take her from me, God. Don’t do that. I’ll do anything if you make her well. Please, bless her with your mercy… take care of her. Restore her body and heal her wounded heart and mind. Renew her hope. And forgive *me*, Lord, for my sins… and for the pain I’ve caused her, and my daughter Belle.’ Then, when he opens his eyes, removing his hand from her head, she grabs it.
“You were praying….”
“Still dizzy? Are you in pain?” He asks, avoiding her statement. “We shouldn’t have made love, Doc.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m okay, John. How are you? I can tell you’re exhausted… being tied up in the airplane like that – the dehydration,” Marlena says, and without opening her eyes, she finds his cheek with her hand and strokes it faintly, then moving across his face. “Oh, and your beautiful nose. I hope it won’t be crooked.”
“Uh, thanks, Doc for the assurance,” he muffles a laugh, taking her hand down from his tender nose. Then turning serious again, he promises, “I’m fine. Been through worse, you know that. It’s *you* I’m worried about.” He brings her hand across his mouth so he can kiss it.
“Don’t worry so much about me,” she whispers.
“How can I not worry about you, Doc?” he avows. “I worry about every beautiful hair on your head.” Then, realizing that he hasn’t worried enough in the past to keep her safe from harm, he sighs heavily and begins to rise. “I’ll let you get a little sleep now.”
“Noooo, John,” she says, her voice rising with apprehension. “Oh, no. I want you to stay with me. You have to tell me what you were going to say before. You were really upset.” He lets go of her hand and sits down next to her. She smiles with relief as the last wave of dizziness makes its run through her head, and the spell ends.
“Uh-uh… nope, sit here,” she bids him, taking his arm and gently guiding him to a position in front of her.
As she does, John instantly knows her intentions and a shiver of anticipation shoots through his body. “Oh,” he says, then growls, “Ohhhhhh, Doc.”
“There,” she says in a hushed voice, as she rests on her knees and eases her body up against his back. John smiles and groans as her warm, naked flesh makes contact with his. “Let’s work this….”
“Oh, baby, you could always work that,” John mutters deeply, as Marlena’s expert touch makes his whole body gasp and reel. He slams his eyes shut and grunts closed-lipped as she kneads the muscles of his shoulders and neck with precision.
“Oh, good golly geezzzz,” she sighs, moving to his neck, pulling his hair to the side, “are you ever snarled up! This may take a while.”
John moans loudly, unable to open his mouth to respond. He feels the heaviness of relaxation descend upon him. Yet, with the added sensation of her breath against his neck, and the sexiness of her voice, his body is conflicted as the escalating combination of pain and pleasure she is dispatching with her hands arouses every nerve.
“Mmmm… Doc, I missed this soooo much,” he tells her mid-groan.
She whispers directly into his ear, making him shiver, “Me, too… me, too.”
John twists his neck to the side as Marlena locates that spot where his muscles gather in a stressful knot, and groans unavoidably, as she tends to it, dissolving it like magic.
“Same as it ever was,” she purrs, continuing to rub her hands across his broad shoulders, recalling sweet and bittersweet memories of similar therapeutic ventures.
“… don’t know… hmmm… ughhh! Oh, god! … how I’ve mmmmmanaged without *this*,” John declares, still submitting to the powerful movements of her hands.
“Will you marry me?” he blurts.
“Okay!” she blurts back, her face beaming.
Sustaining her workmanlike strokes, Marlena blows playful breaths at the hair that has fallen back down over his neck, watching him twitch at each puff. He leans his head back in reaction, and she stops her massage and plants a delicate kiss at the point where his neck becomes his shoulder. Adding kiss after kiss, she finds she can’t stop, and her hands wend their way around to his chest where her fingers begin dallying.
When suddenly, John can’t hold back anymore, wanting in on her one-woman act, he quickly turns his head and grabs her mouth with his. Marlena, taken off guard momentarily, moans as he hungrily moves his mouth over hers, capturing it fully, thrusting his tongue impatiently inside to find hers–sending a tidal wave of pleasure through her like only he can.
In a cold sweat, Kristen wakes up from a nightmare she can’t remember, bolting up in her bed, surrounded by darkness. For a moment, she doesn’t know where she is, then like a boomerang it all comes back. Swiftly.
“Oh,” she groans. “What am I going to do? John is *dead*.”
She stumbles out of bed, and turns on the lamp beside her bed, then walks toward the door. Her mind is cloudy, and she wants to keep it that way, now that her life is over. As she finds her way to the kitchen, she walks through to the big wooden door at the end of the huge space, and opens it.
“Ahhhh,” she sighs slowly, and enters, making her way down into the cellar. “So much good booze, so *much* time….”
“Doc,” John says breathlessly, “please, tell me I didn’t make you dizzy this time….”
Marlena laughs huskily, and lifts her head slowly from his chest, “Not yet. Give me a minute.”
He captures her head in his hands and stares searchingly into her dancing eyes. “Not funny. I’m serious, Marlena. Are you okay?” Then he shuts his eyes and jerks his head in slight exasperation, and says, “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself, if my complete and utter lust for you ends up hurting you.”
“Oh, John, you can’t be serious. Really, I’m….”
“No, baby,” he sighs, “I’m not kidding. I can’t control myself anymore. It’s like I can’t get enough of you. I waited so long… pushed my desire aside for *so* long. And now, being with you again, holding you, touching you, even just *smelling* you… and, ohhhh, telling you, *finally* telling you how I feel and hearing you say that you LOVE ME, it’s like Nirvana, and….” He pauses, and drops his head down, pressing his forehead against hers.
Then, breaking down, he says in a faltering whisper, “And I – I don’t ever want it to end, Marlena.”
“Oh, I feel the same way,” she confides, tears cascading down her florid cheeks. “I still can’t believe this – how this nightmare turned into *heaven*. I’m on cloud nine here in your arms. You just don’t know how many nights I dreamed about you making love to me again… just one more time.”
Then she sighs through puckered lips, blowing a gentle stream of air upon John’s tear streaked face. He pulls her into a fierce hug, and in a sibilant whisper says, “I’m so sorry, honey.”
Marlena can’t help it as her emotions brink the surface, and she begins to sob, “Please, don’t apologize again. I can’t take this.”
“And I can’t help but feel the way I do… knowing you were in such pain, for so long, and I couldn’t see it. That I must not have wanted to see it and I ignored the obvious. How could I do that? What was I so afraid of? I could have prevented all that suffering you endured!”
“Maybe not, John.”
“No, I know I could have!”
“Sometimes things just happen.” She murmurs, absently touching his arm, but avoiding his eyes.
“No, I hear it in your voice. I see it in your eyes. You know I’m telling you the truth. For once!”
Unable to hold back her anguish, a sob escapes and she covers her mouth with her hand, then falls down against him.
John hugs her and in a softer voice says, “It’s okay, Doc… I know you love me, but I want you to tell me, finally, about your pain and anger. About what I did.”
He feels her head shaking, then grabs her shoulders and pulls her away from him forcefully as she fights to remain where she is. But, when John wins all she can do is avert her eyes from his penetrating gaze.
“Look at me, Doc,” he pleads gently. “Look at me.”
She shakes free of his grip and looks at his distraught face, then shouts, “No! I don’t want to tell you *anything*. I just want to love you!”
“No, dammit! I don’t want you to just love me! I want more than that. I want ALL OF YOU, Doc, and I know there’s a part of you that’s got to be angry with me! So tell me!”
As he grabs her fisted hands, jerking them with each word he utters, she starts to feel claustrophobic and cornered. Then she finds herself yelling, “You think you know so much! Well, you don’t know how many times I wanted to hit you!”
John freezes.
“All the times I started to tell you, and you would interrupt me! Was that it, John? Did you know what I wanted to tell you? And you just didn’t want to hear it?”
“I don’t know, Doc,” he sighs. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“And *how*, John? How, if you loved me so much,” she cries, “could you make love to her while I was just across the hall in that… house?” She instantly regrets her question and says, “Oh, that’s so crazy.”
“No it isn’t, Marlena.”
“It is! I can’t believe I said that.”
“Why? You have every reason to ask that,” John says. “It’s what you *feel*!”
“But, it’s just plain old *jealousy*!” She shouts.
“No, it’s more than that, and, god, I wish I had a decent answer. I wish I had any kind of answer, ‘cause I don’t. I was *not* myself! I was… I was just a shadow of myself, and I can only pray that you’ll forgive me and help me get back to the man I was, Doc. To the man you used to love.” He goes to touch her cheek, but his hand is shaking and he feels reluctance at approaching her.
“Used to love?,” she asks, pressing his hesitant hand against her cheek.
He tilts his head to the side, and looks at her beseechingly, pain filling his eyes, “Can you forgive me? Can you ever love me fully?”
“I *do* and I *can*,” she tells him, taking his trembling hand and pressing it to her mouth, trying to invoke her feelings with her lips and eyes.
“You do? You can?” He asks, still feeling undeserving.
“John,” she implores, “I love you more than anything… than my life.”
He closes his eyes and with a shaky voice says, “Me, too, baby.”
Then they hold each other, both knowing they will never let the mistakes they made in the past, no matter how painful, change the deep and unwavering love they share. Since it had endured so many tests in the past, surely it would never die. Just like it *had* never died. It had only been stolen and ripped from them against their will. Time and again.
“Doc, I wasn’t kidding before when I asked you to marry me, you know,” John says, breaking the long bout of peaceful silence.
“I wasn’t either, when I answered you.”
“Good, because when I get you home, I’m going to want to marry you right away.”
“*Right* away!”
“I think back, Doc, and remember marrying you, and it’s still the happiest day of my life. I don’t have as many memories as the average Joe, but I know it’ll always be the best thing that ever happened to me. *You* were the best thing… *are* the best thing that ever happened to me. And I want to do it again.”
“Oh,” Marlena says, beginning to cry again, “I want that more than you can know.”
John laughs, “I think I *know*, baby.”
Holding an unopened bottle of wine under one arm and grasping another, half empty, by the neck, Kristen stops by an open door on her way back to her quarters. Bizet’s L’Arlesienne is playing loudly, flittering through the high-ceilinged room above a singular figure sitting at the end of the extensive space, behind a huge desk centered by a pair of twin Tiffany lamps. Kristen enters and slowly approaches Stefano, who is staring blankly at a laptop computer screen.
“Kristen,” Stefano says flatly, not looking up, his utterance void of emotion.
“Well, no word on the *Queen*?” She asks, her words coming slowly and caustically. She turns and plops down in a big leather chair yards away from him, sitting with her legs crossed. Dropping the full bottle in her lap and thrusting the other up in a toasting gesture, she whoops, “Well, here’s to you Stefano! Here’s to my *father*! The man who destroyed my life! And here’s to Marlena…. the *woman* who destroyed my life! I hope you find her and live happily ever after!” She lowers it to her mouth and takes a quaff.
“Get out of here, now,” he says, pronouncing each word dully, but definitively.
She looks up at him forlornly, squinting to see him, and asks, “Why, Stefano? Why’d you kill John?”
He stands, places his hands on his hips and walks to the window and wonders where the moonlight went. “I cared for you. I did *everything* for you. But, I’m through. I don’t love you anymore, and I want you out of my house, and out of my life.”
“Oh,” she blurts, “I see! Tell me… what did I do that was any worse than what you did? Huh? How can you be so, so mudgejental… uhmmm, I mean jush… judgemental???”
There is no response from the man who’s back is facing her, so she tosses the remainder of the wine down her throat and drops the empty bottle on the floor and it rolls to the wall. She tosses her tangled hair back and tries to stand without falling over.
“Fine. I’m going to bed,” she says, tripping on her way to the door.
Stefano turns abruptly and directs a finger at her, “I should have gotten rid of John Black long ago! I only allowed you to have him a short time ago, when I thought he would forget about Marlena. But that never happened, as you well know! I never should have allowed your relationship with him to continue… and you should never have disobeyed me and gotten involved with him in the first place. You betrayed Tony, and because of that he is *dead*! My son!” He was visibly upset, and was spitting as he was screaming, while walking toward her.
“I blame you BOTH! You and John Black!”
All Kristen could do, as he flailed his arms and rabidly chewed into her, was back up, and unconsciously revert into the little girl who could always charm and amuse him.
“You, for your *stupid* mistakes, and John Black for possessing the love of the only woman I will ever desire! And you… *You* tried to kill her! And it’s because of you she’s out there! Alone!”
He takes her chin in his fingers, as she shrinks, and leans in so his face is bordering hers, and says, barely opening his mouth, “Now, get out of my sight. The party’s over. Tomorrow you will be leaving.”
“Stefano… you didn’t have to kill him, and I told you why I did that to her….” she pouts.
She watches as he closes his eyes and releases her face, exasperated.
“He deserved to die… he was a thorn in my side! For far too long! So, you can just stop… and forget about him! John is dead… finally!” He walks back to the desk and picks up his cell phone.
Before he begins punching numbers, Kristen approaches him.
“Marlena deserves to die then, too! Because I hate her as much as you hated John! I hope she dies out there!”
Stefano slams the phone down on the desk, and slowly looks up at her, scarcely able to contain his rage. Before he is able to confront her, Kristen turns and with her full bottle of wine in hand, weaves her way out of the room, leaving him to continue his vigil. As he returns to his chair, he sees the velvet box sitting on the desk and picks it up. After turning it over and over in his hand, he closes his eyes and kisses the textured container, dreaming of presenting the precious object inside to Marlena.
All he had to do was find her and bring her back.
Marlena looks up at the sky and sees that the dark clouds are finally igniting from behind, illuminated by the sun–still invisible to them. As a new day commences, full of great uncertainty, she knows she will fight to keep John by her side, and get home to her family. She will win this time.
As her eyes become heavy, she drifts to sleep, and begins to dream of home… of holding Belle in her arms and singing her a lullaby.
John listens to Marlena’s relaxed breathing while his own becomes strained. A storm of anxiety is brewing in his mind as he tries to figure out how he’s going to get the two of them out of this nightmare. So, he gently removes himself from around her, being careful not to wake her, and rises. Finally able to see, he looks about and spots his clothes surprisingly near.
He walks to them and pulls on the slightly damp boxers and jeans, then unbunches his socks and swears with impatience as he struggles to put them and his boots on. When he’s done, he looks over at Marlena and feels a million emotions all at once. He paces back over to her and crouches down. He doesn’t know why his heart is pounding like a rabbit, but as he watches her serene face in the delicate light of morning, he’s confronted with the unmanageable and intractable feelings of love for her that he’d always had, but now it seems double-barreled. As he reaches and touches her soft shoulder his body is electrified and tears begin to fall. Paralyzed for a moment, he isn’t sure what to make of it. Finally, he rises slowly; then seeing a few fallen palm fronds lying on the ground, he gathers them up and gently lays them over her. He takes a deep breath, wipes away his tears and whispers apprehensively, “I love you, Marlena.”
John turns and walks toward the waterfall, noticing how the air is once again thick and vaporous. As he works his way through the thick bushes surrounding the pond, he trips, and almost falls over something. Looking down, he’s amazed to see a rifle lying there. He picks it up, brushes the dirt and dew from it’s surface, and smiles as he holds it up in a firing position. Then he checks to see if it’s loaded, and smiles once more when he discovers it is. Picturing Stefano’s dead body in his mind, John rumbles, “They’ve got your name on ‘em DiMera, and so help me God, I won’t hesitate….”
He closes his eyes, flexes his jaw muscles, and welcomes the infringing numbness, as he feels the familiar cold hatred creep into his heart.
Using the rifle to part his way through the foliage, he emerges to feel the spray from the waterfall instantly spreads a thin coat of crisp clean water across his skin. He sees he’s directly above the spot where he and Marlena finally became lovers again. The glorious feeling of that occasion revives itself in his consciousness and he pauses and smiles before remembering why he’s standing there. Then, seeing her white gown where he’d slung it across the rock, he carefully scales the rocky descent to fetch it. Once he’s near enough, he hooks the clumped garment with the rifle and lifts it up.
Then he rushes to bring it back to her, wanting to cover her and make her feel less vulnerable in this morass of wildness. The light of morning has galvanized his sense of desperation at the situation they are in and he feels a continual sense of anxiety now, as well as anger.
As John approaches Marlena, just yards away, he stops suddenly, dead in his tracks, and without balking, he fleetly lifts the rifle, aims and shoots.
The ear-piercing shot jerks John backwards, but he catches himself before losing his footing. He heaves a terrified gasp, drops the rifle, and runs toward her, skidding through the slick grass and falling at Marlena’s body. The gown flies off his shoulder and drops onto the huge python he’d just killed. He looks down at her, astounded at what he sees. There, with a monster snake, having just dropped dead from the tree onto her, she remains deep in slumber, her long lashes unfluttered by what looked to him like an almost three hundred pound constrictor.
In a combination of stunned laughter and scared stiff breathlessness, John pauses and shakes his head–burying his face in his hands. Then, as he endeavors to drag the cumbersome serpent away, he keeps an eye on Marlena to see if she is awakening as the python’s body glides across her inert flesh. Just as the last of the slithery snake slips off of her, she stirs and mumbles something. Then she yawns and John quickly yanks the enormous snake into the nearby bushes before she can see it. He saw no need to inform her of this little incident… knowing of her particular aversion to most things reptilian–including Stefano.
“John?” she murmurs, sitting up and finding her gown next to her.
“Doc, you’re up.” He smiles and crouches down by her, trying to hide the distress he’s sure his face is flooded with. “Here, let’s get this on,” he quickly suggests, taking the gown from her, squeezing out the excess liquid then shaking it out. He holds it for her as she smiles bashfully, which eludes him as he casually watches her lift her arms and slide them through the arm holes. It glides over her, and she smooths out the material against her body.
“So, Doc,” John says, “you didn’t get much sleep. Do you feel any better?”
“Yes. Ugh, what is that SMELL?” She asks, looking around with a scrunched up nose.
“I don’t smell anything, Doc,” he says, copying her gesture of sniffing the air. Doing so, he does notice the funky odor drifting about them from the dead snake. And when she isn’t looking, he wipes off his hands in the moist grass.
“Well, I smell something… *awful*,” she insists. Then she puts her hand out for him to pull her up. He stands and brings her to her feet. He grabs her and embraces her. “Doc, you’re so funny. We’re in a huge jungle FULL of rotten smelling things, and I must say, one of ‘em *isn’t* you.” He spins her around in his arms and kisses her neck.
When he releases her, she laughs, and looks up at him. “Hey, I didn’t get dizzy!”
Basking in her luminescent smile, John’s heart flies free, momentarily, of the draining disquiet it’s been engulfed in. “Doc, you’re makin’ *me* dizzy now. I’m so crazy about you!”
His lips dance about her face, hovering but not touching down. This sends chills through her and she chases his lips with her own until she finally apprehends them, and they collapse into a joyous, passionate kiss.
“Whoooo,” Marlena sighs as John releases her mouth. “More….”
“Now, Doc,” John protests, as she tiptoes up, directing her lips to his. “I have to get something in you….”
Her eyes light up, and her mouth drops in shocked delight, gaping up at him.
It takes John only a moment to realize how she’s misinterpreted his innocent statement, and he bursts out laughing, snatching her up and plastering his laughing face to hers. Through his dancing eyes and hearty laughter, he manages to correct her.
“Food, Doc… *food*!”
“Ohhhh….” she giggles, feigning disappointment, “well, you can feed me however you want.”
They both laugh, holding each other’s face in their hands, enjoying the sweet freedom of a completely pure, happy moment. And when the laughter fades to breathless sighs of exhaustion, still nose to nose, Marlena whispers, “I haven’t heard you laugh like that… for years. Isn’t that just so sad?”
Instead of acknowledging the unvarnished truth of her comment, John starts anointing her lips and chin, then neck, with dulcet, feathery kisses, which Marlena encourages unknowingly, by emitting untamed moans at every luscious movement of his mouth. Then, when he abruptly ends his sojourn across her velvety skin, her knees buckle as he eases her completely to the ground.
“Now, Marlena,” he says pointedly, as she gives him a disappointed glare, “I could do that all day, you know that I could, but I’ve got to get you the hell out of here.”
“I know. I know you’re right,” she says despondently, touching his lips tenderly with her fingertips, then dropping her arms to her sides and reluctantly letting herself come back to their shared reality… stuck in the middle of a jungle somewhere, with targets on their backs. “What are we going to do?”
“Well, my first priority is to, uh, feed you – and me. And any suggestions you have after that….” He laughs to hide the fact that he really isn’t kidding. He doesn’t know what to do. All he does know is that he’s not going to lose her again, or another battle. Turning around, he leaves her, and troops back to where he dropped the rifle. He grabs it and brings it to her.
“You found the rifle, John!”
He tilts his head in confusion, “YOU had this?”
“Uh huh. I took it from one of Stefano’s men, just before I escaped,” she tells him.
Smiling, John says, “Well, Doc, it’s yours again. Here.” He presents it to her, holding it out with his arms extended toward her. She folds her arms across her chest and shakes her head, refusing to take it.
“Come on, Doc. Take it,” he insists, thrusting it toward her. “You stay here while I go get some food.”
“No. I’m coming with you,” she tells him, using one of her hands to nudge the weapon back at him.
“I don’t think so, Marlena.” He takes her shoulder, turns her around, and guides her back toward the tree. “I want you to wait here. I don’t see anything to eat around here, but I know where there are some fruit trees. Some I found yesterday morning, on the other side of the waterfall. You’re too tired, and you’ve been through too much to go back there with me. It’s pointless.” He presses her gently to sit down, which she does reluctantly. Then he sets the rifle across her lap.
Marlena, looking down at the rifle resting on her thighs, doesn’t say anything and doesn’t touch it. After a few moments, John can hear her sniffling.
“Doc, please, *promise* me you’ll use that if you have to, okay?” he pleads.
She sighs heavily, looking up at him, tears laying in wake. Then, mustering a bravehearted face, she willfully demands, “Don’t you take long, because I’ll come after you. I mean it!”
“Oh, no you won’t! Don’t you even think about doing that. You hear me?” he orders. He huddles down by her and with his hand, takes her chin. “I’ll be right back. Half an hour tops. Okay?”
“I’m scared, John. I just….”
“I know, Doc. But, listen to me,” he starts. Then pausing, and seeing the absolute terror in her eyes – a look that she is obviously trying to minimize, he shakes his head, drops it, and says, “I can’t. I can’t leave you.” He’s seen that look before, many times, and he can’t bear to see her suffer yet again. He grabs the rifle, and begins to stand up. But before he can, Marlena has taken it back out of his grip.
“Hey!”
“Go on, John. Go!” She urges, hugging the gun. “Hurry back.”
John gives her a discerning look, and a knowing laugh, “Oh, I see.” He tries to gently tug the weapon out of her clutches–back and forth they yank on it.
“Stop that!” She hollers.
Then, just as she’s about to bite his hand, John shouts, “Marlena! Dammit. We’re going to look for food together – on our way. Okay? Understood? I changed my mind. I can’t leave you alone. I can’t risk it.”
Then, catching her off guard, John snares the rifle from her and quickly stands. Unable to suppress his inclination to gloat, he gives her a devilish grin and laughs deeply as he watches her, wild-eyed and red-faced, bolt up and come after him. He levitates the gun above his head as she clamors for it. He swiftly brings it down behind her and ensnares her, gently capturing her against him. Then, mooring her to him tightly, waiting until she stops wiggling, he directs his mouth to her ear and whispers, “I win. You lose.”
Marlena remains motionless as he begins to blow seductive puffs of air into her ear. She fights the reaction that his breath sends down through the center of her body, but when he starts to nibble on her earlobe, then suck on it, she shivers and gasps, and has to grab him around the waist. She wants to hit him so badly, but then he’d stop doing what he was doing.
“You win, honey,” She murmurs, then twitches as he begins to move his mouth slowly away from her ear, noshing his way across her jaw toward her mouth, enjoying his repast.
Marlena fills John’s mouth once it arrives upon hers, and soon she feels him steadily unbrace her from her captured post against him. When she senses their rapturous kiss is causing him to gradually lose his ability to anchor her to him with the rifle, she places her hands on his arms, slides them down along his forearms to his hands, where she then works his clasped fingers free of the rifle. Before it falls to the ground, she hastily catches it and springs her lips from his.
Blinking, and gasping, feeling slightly delirious, John tries to recover, his hands on his knees – bending to steady himself. Once his eyes have cleared, he looks up at Marlena, wondering what caused her to rupture such a delicious kiss. As his eyebrow slowly ascends, he stands upright and realizes he’s been taken advantage of. He tilts his head and gives her a seductive, playful sneer.
As they both begin to slowly laugh, Marlena holds the rifle snugly against her, stepping back as he steps forward. Their eyes meet and dance together for a while, then, referring to the recaptured weapon in her hand, she harasses him, “I guess that old adage applies here, huh, John? *He who laa….”
“….laughs first, laughs last? I suppose you have a point there, but really Doc, I think you’d better give that to me before you shoot an innocent critter, or my innocent butt – you know the one you so love to grab?” he laughs, extending his hand to her, waiting for the return of the rifle.
“I’m being *extremely* cautious with this hideous gun, John, and I’m very, very hungry right now… so, you’re right, you had better get us some food, before I lose what’s left of my brains’ capacity to reason AND control this thing. So, please go,” she prods. “Go on, fetch me some food, Tarzan.”
John sighs, becoming frustrated when she keeps backing away. “Doc, why are you doing this?” He stops, puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head, rolling his eyes skyward. “I don’t know why I asked that. You’re the most stubborn woman God ever created. It’s a good thing you’re so beautiful, Marlena.”
They laugh again, and Marlena returns to her spot by the tree, settling back down, trying to pretend she’s as strong as she wishes she was. Following her, John still doesn’t want to leave her. Entrenching upon her, he crosses his arms and steps over her, his long legs on either side of her shapely ones. He looks down at her hoping his stance is communicating his resolve. She sighs and grips the gun tightly. Her big eyes rise to meet his, and she sees the determination on his face.
“What? I thought this was settled. I’m staying, you’re going,” she says, and when he doesn’t budge, she gets angry and looks away. “We’re wasting time! Go! I’m not scared. I’m not… anymore, and I can take care of myself!” Her eyes flood with tears of frustration and misery, and when she feels him lowering himself down she tries to blink the tears away quickly. He sits gently over her legs, resting on his heels, and lovingly cups her face with his hands.
“Doc, don’t.”
She rubs at her fallen tears, unable to look at him, and says, “John, please go. This is ridiculous.”
He takes her hands away from her face and bends slowly and kisses her dampened cheek. Then lovingly, painstakingly uses his large thumbs to try to remove the tears, but it becomes futile when she can’t stop new ones from falling.
“Doc… How can I leave you? Even for a minute?”
She squeezes her eyes shut and grimaces. “I’m fine. Just hurry back! Please, go! Now.”
“You always win, don’t you? When will I learn?”
She smiles through her tears, “Never.”
“I love you,” John says, then proceeds to demonstrate how much, by giving her a kiss that’s meant to be retained while he’s gone. Before she can open her eyes, recovering from his kiss, he’s vanished and she listens to the sounds of his departing, until she’s left alone with the harassing din of the surrounding jungle.
“….love you, too!” she calls into the towering vegetation.
Suddenly regretting her decision to be strong, she feels a sweeping sense of dread join her lonely vigil.
It seems like hours to Marlena since John rushed off through the plants and trees surrounding her to get food; though she knows it’s only been minutes. She stares down at the rifle she holds in her arms, cradling it like a baby, and recalls whom she’d taken it from. A tall, medium built man with long, filthy looking blonde hair tied back and a dirty bearded face. She remembers how his hair and clothing had appeared wet, and how he smelled musty, like the smells she was encountering in the forest. She wonders, as she slides her hand across the smooth wooden surface of the gun’s stock, why he’d been there in that room with them, as Stefano made her watch that horrible video of John being hunted and shot. He hadn’t seemed like Stefano’s other guards. The ones who usually stood off to the side trying unsuccessfully to be inconspicuous. This guy had been asleep, looking like he’d been dragged through….
The moment the realization hits her the gun feels red-hot and she drops it, repelling from its evil, and screams into her hands.
She’d been holding the very weapon that had been used to shoot John. It contained the bullet that seared into the side of his head with enough force to hurl him backwards, making her think he’d been shot down in cold blood. Left for dead. Remembering the brutality of that moment, caught so inhumanely on video, sickens her and tears drain into her palms. Feeling nauseous, and desperately alone, she draws her legs up and circles her arms around them tightly, enshrouding herself into a protective shell. Overwhelmed with grief, and then anger, she asks, “God, why? Why have you abandoned us here??”
After long, endless moments of feeling paralyzed with sorrow, Marlena raises her head and wipes away her tears. Turning and looking down at the rifle, she scowls at its presence, and leans her head wearily against the tree, hoping that sleep with claim her and make the unbearable heaviness of time float away, as she waits for John to return.
She gets her wish as she slips under the quiet blanket of slumber where she is a million miles–and lifetimes, away from the wild racket of the forest that she finds herself in now.
As Abe peruses the map he has splayed across his lap, he sighs and hopes he won’t be too late to rescue his friends. He’s constantly going over and over in his head what he’s done to prepare–wondering if he’s been successful at keeping the plan tight and secret. He knows Stefano has people everywhere, in every nook and cranny of the world. He can only pray that Stefano hasn’t found out, thus taking Marlena, and possibly John, to another hideout.
Escaping once again like the illusionist he seemed to be.
He bows his head, and raises his clasped hands to his face and says a quick prayer.
John finally comes to a stop when he sees the mango trees before him. Winded, he rests his hands on his knees bending over to catch his breath. He’s on the brink of complete exhaustion, though he won’t allow himself to be. His mind is clouded with fear and his body is running on empty.
He reaches up and rips four ripe mangos from their stems, and before he turns to bring them back to Marlena, he takes another and jams it into his mouth, biting down into the tough peeling and tasting the bitterness. He stuffs the mangos in his jean pockets and then proceeds to strip away the peeling of the other one with his teeth and eats it quickly and carelessly, letting the juice stream down his chin and neck. Then he wolfs down another in the same manner.
As he takes his arm and slovenly wipes the sticky mess from his mouth and beard, he thinks of how… *nice* it will be to feed Marlena. He closes his eyes and pictures holding the peeled mango upon her waiting lips and watching as her mouth sensuously bites into the soft meat of the fruit. As she finishes, he holds the pit for her to suck off the last remains, and he drops it as she lazily starts to clean his hand. Then he feeds her another, and his eyes track the juice surging down her chin as she hungrily eats. Next, he lustfully imagines his mouth cleansing the sweet stickiness from her lips all the way down to where the liquid ends its journey….
He licks his own lips as his fantasy fades back to fear and he turns to hurry back to her. As he moves hastily through the tangled growth and underbrush of the jungle, his boot catches on a vine and it yanks him down like a roped steer. The last part of him to land is his head and it comes down on a protruding root, knocking him out cold.
Stefano walks into his room of monitors, turning each one on consecutively with his remote control, regarding them until he comes to Kristen’s room. It’s nearly noon and she’s sprawled out on her large canopied bed still sleeping; one hand clamped around the neck of a bottle of wine, who’s contents had obviously escaped, making a large stain in which she layed. He regards her with a combination of pity and remorse, and decides he’ll let her stay for now. He feels he doesn’t have the time or fortitude to force her out. His mind is focused on Marlena, and finding her, and as much as Kristen’s presence fuels his anger he tells himself she is the *least* of his concerns now.
He aims the remote and in a flash the image of Kristen turns to black, and he looks at the remaining monitors. Looking at the ones that are from cameras focused on the estate’s grounds and surrounding huts, he becomes furious when he sees three of the men he’d sent out to find Marlena approaching one of the entrances without her in their aegis.
Marlena opens her eyes and sees John’s overcast blue eyes gazing down at her. She hears him whisper, “Get up, Marlena… we have to go now.” His hands take hers and he tries to gently pull her up.
She tilts her head. “But I’m tired, John, I’m so tired.” Weary tears well up in her eyes as she looks into his loving, but pleading ones.
He shakes his head, and smiles sweetly at her, still whispering, “We have to go, Doc. Gotta hurry. Come on. I’ll carry you.”
“Okay,” she agrees reluctantly, feeling extremely weak and heavy, like she’s under water. He lifts her up gently, and lovingly secures her in his strong arms. She rests her head down against his shoulder and feels his strenuous breathing and fiercely pounding heart. She presses her hand to his cheek wanting to calm him – to reassure him that they’ll be okay, but as John takes off into the forest everything darkens, rain begins to fall, and her spirit starts to plummet as well. She feels an overpowering sense of dread that’s come with the sudden change in the weather.
“John? What’s happening?” She asks fearfully.
“Shhh,” he hushes, pressing his lips to her face, and kisses her tenderly. Then he whispers, “Quiet, baby. Hold on now. We’re getting out of this hellhole.”
She shakes her head, and holds on tightly to John as he moves quickly through the dense greenery of the forest. The steady pelting of the rain, the slapping leaves, and John’s unwavering pace makes Marlena feel like they are travelling on an interminable journey toward a dead end.
Finally as they emerge into an open area, she screams when John comes to an abrupt stop, prompted by a voice that rings familiarly hollow, and it shoots fear and hatred straight into her heart.
“Hold it right there, John!”
She braces herself as John tightens his hold on her, backing up, and she buries her face in the arc of his neck.
“Go to hell, Stefano!” She hears John roar into the din of the pouring rain.
“Put her down, John! Do it now! I’m warning you!”
Marlena looks up and through the curtain of rainfall she sees Stefano, dressed in black and drenched to the bone. His face is shadowed ominously, appearing like a phantom, and when a flash of lightning stabs through the sky, she’s horrified to see the light illuminate the shiny object he’s pointing at them.
“Never! I’ll never hand Marlena over to you… you MONSTER!” John yells, and the volume of his voice makes her quake in his arms.
“Don’t make me kill you, John! Put her down, and I’ll let you go!” Stefano
threatens.
Marlena protests with a horrified scream, then pleads with John to drop her immediately. He refuses and she begins to feel panicked, knowing Stefano won’t hesitate to shoot, so she starts to hit John until they’re both in tears and he finally acquiesces and does what she says. Then, standing next to him, as close to him as she can, she watches as Stefano approaches like a ghost and grabs her arm pulling her violently away from John’s side.
“Doc! No!” John cries out, then quickly clutches her back to him with enough impetus that they fall to the ground. “Doc, promise me…” he says into her ear, “promise me you’ll never stop trying to get away from him, okay? Promise!”
Shaking her head vehemently, Marlena looks up through the gushing rain, and sees Stefano standing over them, aiming the handgun at John with one hand and with the other reaching for her.
Clinging to John, as he tries to shield her from Stefano, and she tries to do the same for him, Marlena cries out in pain, desperate for God’s help.
She decides that she has to break free from John, to save him from certain death, so she begins tearing at his hands… hands that are impossible to remove from their tenacious, intractable hold on her. As she fights and tugs at his fingers, the unexpected blast of the gun firing shatters her like glass, and without having to turn around to look at him, Marlena knows John’s been shot. Her body crumbles upon him as she feels his hands lose the steadfast grip she’d been battling and slip away. She turns and screams up into the diabolical face of Stefano DiMera,
“Noooooo….”
“You’re coming with *me* now Marlena,” Stefano sings menacingly as he bends down and takes her arm in his big mighty hand. She rips it away, giving the man a rabidly angry look, then, clutching the lifeless, soaking wet, but warm body of her soulmate, she looks at his face. “Oh God, oh God, oh God….” John’s heavenward gazing blue eyes shine with amazing clarity and beauty in the light of the opening skies, but they are not alive. She clutches his face in her trembling hands and begs him to come back to her, but he doesn’t move. She watches in horror as John’s blood trickles down the side of his forehead, mixing with the rain, and down through her fingers. As she sobs and begins to die inside, she feels herself being wrenched away….
A muddied hand reaches down and attempts to locate her throat’s pulse, but trying to find out if she’s dead or not proves pointless when she suddenly lets out a bloodcurdling scream. He flinches back, and curses. Then he smiles, steadies himself on his haunches and watches as Marlena slowly awakens herself with lingering, intense cries that leave her breathless and dripping in sweat.
Seeing the rifle lying there, he picks it up quickly and rests it across his thighs.
“John? John?” Marlena says groggily, wiping the perspiration away from her eyes, and rising from her slumped position against the tree. He reaches out to her, and tilts her chin up, aiming her face toward his.
“Sorry. Johnny boy’s long dead. Did ya think you’d find him out here alive? HUH?” He sneers.
Marlena gasps as her eyes begin to focus on the man talking to her. When she realizes with relief that she’s only been dreaming and John is alive, she sighs. Then that relief is replaced with alarm as she’s faced with another nightmare. One that makes her dream appear like it could become reality. Shuddering with that apprehension, she buffers herself against the tree, and tries to calm her pounding heart.
He laughs contemptibly, then growls, “Stupid b**ch, didn’tcha see on the goddamn video I killed Black?” He shakes his head mockingly, then slowly leans in. His eyes flood with darkness as he stares malignantly at her. She stiffens back, unable to breathe, as his face invades her space, and his mouth tauntingly hisses, “Now – now that I’ve finally found you, it’s time to drag you back to your keeper, isn’t it?” Then he raunchily passes his filthy hand down the length of her body, and she freezes at his inclement touch.
Marlena, averting his suffocating glare, eyes the rifle nestled in his lap, and unhesitatingly reaches in and grabs for it, knowing it may be her only means of escaping Stefano’s hunter. The second she makes her move, he cuts her off quickly and pins her back against the rough surface of the tree.
“Don’t EVEN!” He shouts angrily, spitting in her face, “I’ve been through hell trying to find you in this dung heap!”
Marlena shakes her head pleadingly as she tries to breathe against the pressure he’s inflicting. “I’m sorry, please…” After a few moments eyeing her skeptically, trying to discern if she’ll stay put, he starts to draw back and as he does she instinctually begins attacking him – hitting and kicking with all her might. She wants desperately to call out to John as well, hoping he’s near, but doesn’t want this man to know he was unsuccessful in his attempted murder.
Marlena rips at Val as he tears back at her, both gasping and snarling. She, fighting for her life, for her future – her very survival, and he for spite, anger, and greed.
When he’s finally able to reign her in, locking her in a constricting hold against him, they freeze and struggle to catch their breath. Marlena looks down at her bloodied hand – at the piece of shredded cloth she’s clutching, and she opens her hand slowly and watches it tumble to the ground. Feeling defeated and lifeless, she closes her tearful eyes and slumps back.
Val, fuming, and throbbing with pain, seeing that he’s covered with bloody scratches, pushes her out of his arms and stands up. He glares down at her, picks up the rifle and hoists Marlena furiously to her feet. She cries out as he pulls her firmly against him and whispers into her ear, “Try another move like that lady, and I’ll tell Stefano I found you dead.”
“Ow! Please, oh, please, I was in the hospital. I have injuries, please don’t be so rough,” she appeals, feeling dizziness on the horizon, and her stomach wound searing with pain. ‘Oh, God,’ she begs, ‘please help me?..’
“Shut up and pray I let you live,” he snarls, and turns, beginning their trek back to the estate, yanking Marlena by the hand behind him.
Waking in an eddy of dizziness, John rolls over, groaning, and cradles his head in his arms until the swirling jungle comes to a stop. He sits up and smoothes his hand over his throbbing head until he locates the lump where the pain is emanating. He feels the sizable knot and curses his clumsiness, yet thankful he doesn’t have a concussion; hopefully, since the dizziness subsided immediately and he doesn’t feel nauseous or confused.
He is definitely not confused. He knows where he is and why, and he knows his little fall has impeded him in the task at hand–getting back to Marlena, and getting her home to her family.
Family. They were going to be one soon. Finally he would give Belle and Brady what they needed so badly–both he and Marlena, together under one roof, with each other and those two precious children. Nobody was going to stop him from making that happen. NOBODY.
He stands, brushes the dirt and debris from his head, chest, and jeans, and looks up at the sun and knows she must be frantic with worry. His gut churns at the thought, and he picks up one of the mangos that has dropped from his pants, and replaces it, before beginning again on his way back to her.
After spending what seemed like deathless amounts of time searching for any sign of her, and calling her name over and over in vain, John stands shaking at the foot of the tree where he’d left Marlena. The spot where he’d kissed her passionately and told her he loved her and that he’d be right back.
The now *empty* space taunts him and sends him reeling backwards.
He blinks his eyes and squeezes them tight, praying that when he opens them again, she’ll be there… sleeping peacefully in the shade like an angel. His mind paints the vision, and he chants breathily, “Be there, baby… be there, be there, be there.” But when he raises his eyelids, the canvas is still blank. He lets out a full tortured sigh as her failure to appear sends a repeat of the initial knock out punch to his system that he got when he first approached and saw she was gone.
Knowing he has no use for them anymore, John retrieves each piece of fruit he’d stowed away for Marlena and angrily pitches them one after the other into the distance. Then, after tossing the last one, he stands exhausted, looking up at the sky. He draws his fingers through his mangled, long dark hair, then down across the features of his increasingly haggard looking face, now almost completely obscured by a massively grubby beard, mottled with dirt.
Then, feeling like he might collapse from complete exhaustion and terror, he shuts his cloudy blue eyes tightly and tears escape, gushing down his face. He can’t fathom that as quickly as he’d found her, he’d lost her again. Tilting his head back and having the sensation that his body is floating but also that he’s dead weight, he gasps for air. Then, with bloodshot eyes bathing in liquid agony, he looks up into the suffocating canopy of the forest ceiling and crumbles to his knees.
As John falls to pieces, a fresh batch of clouds make a dramatic entrance above him. With fists clenched in rage, he begins attacking the ground; abandoning himself to the self-hatred and fear that were battling for sovereignty in his head.
“Marlena….” he sobs, his voice threaded with desperation and longing. He thinks he has never felt so alone. Not even when he first came to Salem all those years ago. Back when he was as lost and alone as a soul could be; not knowing who he was, or where he came from… or even why he was there. Just drifting in and out of the days, trying to find a connection to anything… to *anyone*.
She gave him everything. Whatever – whoever he was now… kneeling alone in the dirt here in this jungle, was because of her. Marlena. She’d given him a life to live. A reason. And so much of that life had been lived *without* her. There had been so much pain without her. That life she’d given to him never felt complete when she wasn’t in it. But, he’d gone on, half a soul, and only when he’d found her again – when he’d seen her standing in that pond like a vision bathed in God’s purest light did it feel like his world was once again set back on it’s axis after years of spinning out of control.
So, now as he quakes at her disappearance, he feels that unbearable pain again. The pain he’d never wanted to revisit, yet had always been just under the surface. It felt worse than he could ever imagine, yet it was so familiar.
“Where are you? God… oh, God, where is she?”
As the gathered clouds begin to deliver their intended raindrops, John looks up and lets the cool water mix with his tears as he shakes his head in anguished fatigue. Finding God to be silent, he begins to feel the burning anger of past losses and grits his teeth through gasping cries. In frustration, he swipes at the earth. Then as he fights to dig deep inside for the strength of the warrior he felt he once was, his fingers gouge into the dirt beneath him.
“Dammit! I’ve failed you again, Doc,” he hisses. Then with an overwhelming blow to his senses he begins to grasp the fear and desperation *she* must be experiencing… and perhaps feeling forsaken once again by him. ‘I should have listened to my gut and never left her alone. Oh, my god, how scared she was… I felt her fear. I saw it in her eyes and I left her!’ he berates himself.
“Don’t be scared, Doc, I’ll find you. I’ll get you back!” he shouts. He knows in his heart she’ll survive. She was the strongest, bravest person he knew… had ever *known*. It seemed to him that she had the strength of David to Stefano’s Goliath. Yet, he knew she was only human; though a much stronger one than he. Sure, she was strong, but he feared she was at her most vulnerable right now. She’d been so afraid earlier – on the verge of giving up all hope. She’d said she didn’t feel she’d ever get home again. He wasn’t going to let that fear materialize and become reality.
Before rising to his feet, he glances down at his fists, full of dirt, and his face transforms into a thunderstruck, wide-eyed stare. Unable to breathe while watching the clumps of dirt sift through his fingers, John finally lets out a tumultuous breath as he looks at the piece of cloth that remains in the palm of his left hand.
“What? What is this?” he mutters almost soundlessly, holding the obviously *violently* torn fragment of someone’s clothing. Someone *other* than Marlena.
Then, as the gravity of what he’s looking at hits him, his breathing begins to increase in intensity and he quickly rises to his feet. Gravely, he fingers the shredded material and his heart caves as he watches the rain soak into it and the blood that had dried there leak onto his fingers and send tendrils of reddish liquid down his trembling hand.
“No, no, nooooo,” he moans. “What’s happened here? Oh, my God, what’s happened to you? Gotta find you… fast.”
Looking at the mind numbing evidence of violence, he crushes the bloody cloth into his fist and decidedly turns and runs into the forest, going only with that same Marlena *radar* that seemed to direct him in the right way so many times before.
Unable to continue the pace they have been keeping, Marlena’s legs give out and she falls to the ground, her arms stretched out, and her hand still crushed in the unforgiving grip of the man pulling her. Val continues moving, dragging her for a moment until he realizes she’s faltered, and he releases her hand and turns to look at her.
Immense hunger and fatigue have weakened her to the point that she feels numb and cold in the stifling heat. Slowly, Marlena turns her head and with her big eyes heavy-lidded with faintness, she peers up at Val, who glares down at her unsympathetically.
“Get up,” he orders coldly.
“I’m too weak,” she manages to say.
“I said, get up. Get up NOW.”
The baneful calm of his voice disturbs her, but as a wave of pain descends, she closes her eyes and forgets his menacing presence. Until finally, he reaches for her, tugging at her arm. She swings at him blindly, still groaning with pain, while fighting back tears and the desire to pass out.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks impatiently.
She moans and tries to get up, but her legs don’t cooperate and she collapses again. “I – I haven’t eaten for a long time now,” she stutters, and lays back down gently, hoping to suppress the oncoming dizziness. “And I told you, I have injuries.” He squats down beside her and moves some fallen hair clinging to her face and eyes with a harsh sweep of his calloused hand. She turns away, revolted by his stench and his touch, and gathers the crumpled, filthy, torn material of her once pristine night gown in her hands and tugs it tightly to her weakened body.
“Oh, right. Well, that’s just too bad. Now, get up,” he demands coolly, fastening his hand to her arm, which she viscerally rips back and tucks tightly against herself, sickened by the mere graze of the hand that tried to kill John.
‘John,’ she thinks. ‘Where are you? What happened to you?’
“Let’s go. Come on! I’ve wasted enough time on you!” Val finally shouts. The roar of his voice causes Marlena to shudder and begin to cry.
“I don’t think I can,” she implores. “…think I might faint.”
After a long pause, Val’s voice rolls with exasperation, asking, “What happened? What injuries?”
He descends to his knees, next to her curled up body, rips off his hat and wipes his drenched brow, then returns it with the brim reversed.
Without looking at him, Marlena says, “Well, Kristen… Stefano’s daughter tried to kill me the other day.” She emits a weak, ironic laugh, amazed at the journey she’s been on, and dismayed that once again things seem headed down the wrong path on that journey.
“Damn! Whoa!” he crows, disbelief apparent in his voice, yet also a hint of delectation. “What did she do?”
Feeling weaker and weaker, Marlena mumbles, “She hit me over the head, then stabbed me!” Saying the words brings a wave of pain to her wounds and another injection of contempt for Kristen and all the turmoil she’d caused her.
“Holy s***!” He blares. “What did you do to her? Ha! Don’t answer that. Man! You mess with a DiMera and look out! You messed with Black, right? She didn’t like that, right?”
He laughs for a bit then mutters slightly under his breath, “Won’t catch me makin’ that mistake.”
Marlena could feel him trying to lift her, to get her upright, but her mind and body are failing and suddenly everything is steeped in a dark cloud of dimming sensations. She tries to speak but her mouth won’t work. Then finding the strength to finally raise her eyelids, she finds herself eye to eye with Val. She can only stare into his cavernous dark rimmed black eyes for a moment as her head bobs back.
“Come on, enough of this,” she hears Val groan as he pulls her body up and for a moment she can feel herself actually standing, until he circles his arm around her and begins dragging her in step with himself. Then, suddenly there are heavenly cool raindrops alighting on her cheeks, lips and eyelids, and she forgets who’s arms are holding her up, and wanting them to be his, she calls John’s name as she loses consciousness.
When she comes around again, the rain has stopped, and again she’s propped up against another huge tree. For a moment, as she looks around her, she believes she will see John’s face smiling upon her like he had when she woke up in his arms earlier. How wondrous his kiss had tasted. How blissful his body felt entwined in hers….
Then instead of finding John’s eyes meeting hers, she watches a pair of muddy boots approach and stop in front of her.
“Good, you’re awake.”
Hearing that now familiar hollow voice sends a chill through her as she had been prepared to hear the gentle whisper that would have given her hope once again. But, John wasn’t there, just the monster who kneels down beside her, making her scream when he pulls out a well worn hunting knife.
He grins diabolically at her reaction, then begins slicing and feeding her chunks of breadfruit from the tip the blade. As she eats, Marlena stares at Val staring at her, and it seems to her like he’s looking straight through her, and feeding her simply out of necessity. She begins to feel tears surround her eyes as the fruit begins to strengthen her. Trying to avoid his demonic eyes, she can’t seem to extract her stare. They bore into her… past her. It’s frightening and she feels paralyzed. As silent minutes pass, she continues to eat. And while he keeps looking at her, she has never felt more invisible or more alone.
After he finishes delivering food to her mouth, he eats the last piece and finally speaks as he wipes his sticky hands on his damp jeans. “I’m gonna let that settle in you and I don’t wantcha to move an inch while I’m gone,” he says, and grabs her chin in his hand. Then, gritting his teeth, he contemptuously says, “GOT THAT?”
Finally able to shut her eyes, Marlena stiffly nods *yes*, as she cinches herself back against the tree. ‘Please just go away.’ she thinks pleadingly.
Once he’s walked away, she can breathe. She sweeps her rain soaked hair back and then looks around at her surroundings. Seeing something in the near distance, she doesn’t hesitate to move to retrieve it. She had hoped he would have left the rifle, but it was nowhere in sight. Approaching the object, a rain splattered, shiny rock, she prays it will be small enough to conceal yet sharp enough to do damage if need be.
Slowly she crawls to the stone and stretches her hand toward it, but before her fingers can wrap around it, Val has swooped down on her and flips her over. Marlena freezes and discharges a terrified scream as he perches his body above her like an attacking lion. Buffering her with his limbs, he bellows at her, “You don’t listen too good, do ya?”
Marlena gasps for air and searches the ground for something to fight him off with, until he squeezes her hips with his knees and she cries out and looks up at his brutal face. He grabs her face in his right hand and leans his face down toward hers. She flinches and tries to twist away from him. But she can’t, as he forcefully anchors her head in place while shouting at her.
Marlena begins to panic as she senses his loss of patience and his grip tightening fiercely. She feels so angry and tired, yet his monstrous presence above her fills her with another emotion. Fear. Overwhelming fear.
He lifts her and moves her back to the tree, still hovering over her, glaring and fuming.
As Val narrows his gaze and encroaches down toward her face, she slaps her hand across his mouth, fighting him back. He pushes her arm down, then lowers his face to hers, his breath hot smelling like dead vermin. Marlena cringes as he whispers menacingly, “What is it ‘bout you? What’s got all these people hot and bothered? Huh? What’s got ‘em either trying to kill you or keep you? Huh? Who the hell are you?”
He doesn’t wait for any kind of answer as he starts to laugh and then finally, begins to attack her with violent kisses and vicious tears at her gown.
“Maybe I should find out,” he growls.
“Noooo,” she screams.
In shock, and fighting for air to breathe, Marlena uses every ounce of strength she has to bite, kick, and hit him. A thunderous pounding of fear and panic hits her as she realizes what’s happening, and she knows she’ll die before she lets it happen.
After minutes of battling against him… against the suffocating, crushing onslaught of his cruel flesh, she feels her body weaken and scream in agony for relief. But then, an equally overpowering determination to survive erupts inside her, and when Val lifts himself off of her slightly to struggle with his jeans, Marlena explodes with a surge of offensive attacks and deafening screams of protest.
When the distant sound of Marlena screaming penetrates through John like a knife, the shock jolts him instantly off balance from his steady pace and he falls… tumbling down a small slope. Then like a cat he’s upright and perking his ear to hear it once more. Praying with all his heart to hear a repeat of a sound that dually sent joy and terror to the very core of him.
He stands like a statue, until finally he hears her again. It seems even more urgent and for a second he’s paralyzed with fear… shattering at the thought of what could be happening to make her scream like that and wanting to get to her desperately.
John barrels forward, chasing the frantic screams until they’re as clear as a church bell. Coming through a clearing, he stops to scan the view, wiping the sweat from his eyes and blinking to see through the light and shadows. Then a sharp cry turns his head and he sees movement in the distance. Without getting a fix on exactly what he sees, he runs forward… aching to stop the screams that are ripping him apart and filling him with dread.
He slows down as he gets close, then stops a short distance from a sight that almost knocks him to the ground – Marlena shadowed beneath a large, half naked man – a man he vaguely recognizes. She’s screaming and he sees glimpses of her arms slamming against the man, and as he moves quickly forward to tear the man off her, Marlena lets out a fierce cry and her arm makes a large sweeping motion, hitting Val solidly on the side of the head with something she’d plucked from the ground beside her. He groans as his body is cast off of her by the force of the blow, and he lays on his side holding his head in his hands, until John flings himself toward him and inflicts a decidedly potent knockout punch of his own.
Twisting away from the unconscious brut, John cries out, “Doc!” and scrambles toward her, finding her crying and fumbling frantically with her gown. He reaches for her and attempts to help her finish smoothing out the rumpled clothing. “It’s okay, Doc… you’re okay now,” he whispers, trying to gather her into his arms. She stiffens and buries her head in her hands and continues to fight for calm through racking sobs and piercing pain.
John tenderly rocks her in his arms, holding her against him and fighting the urge to release the anger hammering inside him with a scream toward the skies. Instead, he begins to cry as his hands tremble gently over her skin, striving to make her feel safe. To forget the pain.
“I love you. I love you, Marlena. It’s okay, baby… please, it’s okay now. I love you so much,” he continues to whisper, attempting to mollify her tense body with words of love, yet it doesn’t seem to be enough when her crying doesn’t slacken and she doesn’t speak to him.
Slowly Marlena begins to escape the terror that had her mind and body trapped, and she becomes aware of the hushed voice floating above her head and the touch of compassion swimming across her flesh.
John.
Taking a deep breath, she removes her fingers from the tenacious grip she has on the hem of her gown and slowly brings her hand to rest upon his chest. When John feels her soft palm touch down against him he sighs and an uncontrollable sob escapes his body. He finds her hand and takes it to his lips.
“Ahhhh… my sweet Marlena. I love you… love you,” he cries into her palm, holding her fiercely, and rocking her steadily back and forth. “I’m so sorry, baby, so sorry. I love you so much.”
Able to breathe somewhat steadily, Marlena tilts her head and opens her eyes toward him. He releases her hand, then cups both his hands gently around her face. “Are you okay, Honey?”
She doesn’t answer, but closes her eyes and sighs, “John, it’s you. It’s really you. Where were you?”
He smiles through his tears, “Yeah, Doc, it’s me. It’s me. I gotcha now. It’s gonna be okay.”
“It is?” she asks, opening her eyes to see him again. To see his loving eyes, so unlike Val’s dark, coldhearted ones.
“We’re going home now, Doc… going home,” he says softly, grazing his fingers down her cheeks worshipfully… in awe of her. “I love you so much. I’m never going to let you go. Never again.”
Then just as he’s about to lower his head to hers, Marlena’s exhausted eyes break away from their loving gaze at his and peer beyond him and over his shoulder. He registers the fright entering them, and quickly turns around.
“John, look out!”
Marlena’s warning to look out, gives John the fraction of time he needs to push her to safety just before Val fires a shot from the rifle he has aimed down at them. It misses, whizzing through the air above them when he quickly springs forward and takes Val down at the knees.
Peering up from her hunched position and seeing the rifle sail out of Val’s clutches, Marlena ducks down again just before it lands inches from her.
“John!” she cries, quickly grabbing the weapon. Her heart sinks to her stomach as she watches the two men grappling furiously before her. Thinking that she can’t take much more, she strangles the rifle as she cries out in vain.
When he’d come upon them, John hadn’t been fully aware of whom Marlena’s attacker was; he’d been focused solely on helping her to bother to find out, or even care who it was, though he’d had a flash of recognition. It just hadn’ mattered. All that mattered was getting to her; getting whoever he was off of Marlena as fast as possible. Then seeing her… looking into her eyes to make sure she was alright, and by some miracle – yet another miracle – she was as well as could be expected. But as soon as he’d turned and saw the man aiming a gun at them, he knew instantly who it was. Stefano’s tracker. He’d faced the same hostile, wolfish countenance earlier when he was forced to run for his life.
Now that he knows… knows who exactly it was that had tried to rape Marlena, his fury intensifies and he roars, “I’m gonna kill you! GONNA KILL YOU… you son-of-a…!” Adrenalin floods his blood stream and his arms and fists react by releasing unfettered, punishing blows to Val;’s body. “You’re never going to get the chance to hurt anyone ever again!” he blasts, succumbing to an all consuming need to make him pay for putting his filthy, depraved hands on her.
With each punch, harrowing images of what he’d seen Val doing to Marlena are triggered in his mind, and it sends John into an even further uncontrollable, blinding rage. In a short time, blood is spattered across his skin and covering his fists like a pair of gloves.
“John! Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Marlena yells over and over, as he continues, deaf to her pleas. She watches, horrified at John’s brutal strikes at the crumpled form, who has stopped fighting back and seems to be unconscious. Knowing John’s lost all control, she points the rifle into the air and fires it.
The shot splits the sky and rocks Marlena. She falls back, then recovers to see John still bent over Val but no longer hitting him. Slowly he turns toward her, a dazed expression on his face, panting for air and not sure of what exactly broke him from the spell of rabid aggression he was under.
“Doc?” he says in a fatigued, rasping voice as he slowly rolls off Val and onto the ground where he lies flat on his back, his elbows bent, forearms raised and hands still tightly fisted.
Closing his eyes, he echoes her name again.
Instantly at John’s side, Marlena sinks to her knees and wilts across his heaving chest and plants her head over his wildly pounding heart. She slips her arms under his broad frame and up around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Then strangely, the ferocious rhythms and sounds emanating from John into her, begin to calm her distressed mind and wounded body.
“Doc… you okay? Are you okay?” John murmurs, dropping his battered, blood-coated hands down to rest upon her back.
“Shhh, I’m fine. Thank you,” she hushes him, still listening intently to his heart. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I did that, but I thought you were going to kill him….” And as she says that, there is a part of her that wishes she’d allowed John to do just that, as she opens her eyes, looking upon the inert body of Val only yards away.
Marlena quickly turns her head, making the man and the suffocating memory of his brutal attack disappear.
“I wanted to, Doc. I wanted to kill him for what he did to you,” he sighs gruffly, bringing his hands to her head and touching her hair lightly with his trembling fingers. “I’m so sorry, Doc. Sorry I didn’t stay with you… if I had, that beast never would have taken you away, and you wouldn’t have had to go through that… what he did to you. God, are you sure you’re okay?” He feels sick knowing how close she came to being raped again. He was moved by her strength of will, and thankful that she’d fought Val with everything she had, because although he was constantly amazed by her ability to endure untold adversity, he wasn’t sure she could’ve survived that.
How would, even she, ever be able to be whole again?
She had enough scars to heal. And knowing that some were from wounds he’d inflicted was going to be hard enough to deal with.
Sitting up, he grasps her head tightly in his hands and lifts it so he can see her face. Her lids lay heavy over red-rimmed, velvet brown eyes; the evidence of the stress she’s been under etched clearly in them. Steadily gazing into those eyes, John tells her without words how much he loves her and wants her to have faith. To believe that after all they’ve been through, and given the miracle of finding their way back to one another, that nothing and nobody will ever tear them apart again. They will find their way home.
Undivided and free.
Marlena can’t bear to continue to look into John’s eyes. The intensity is blinding and she drops her gaze and begins to cry uncontrollably.
“Hey, Doc, don’t cry… please don’t cry. Please,” he gently entreats, lifting her chin with his index finger, begging her to look at him again.
Turning away, she lowers her head slightly. She wants to do what he says, but looking at him is just too painful; his eyes awash with love and the genuine desire to give her hope.
“Shhhh, don’t cry,” he whispers deeply, his lips tickling her tear drenched cheek, and issuing a shiver to course through her body.
“I can’t help it,” she sobs, taking his large, bloodied hand and laying it across her palm, then gently stroking it and admiring its rugged beauty. “Looking at you just now, I saw something so familiar it scared me, John.”
“What do you mean?”
“You look just like you did four years ago. Beaten and bloody, with black circles under your eyes, and it makes me realize that nothing has really changed in all that time. Your face proves it,” she says, finally looking up at him, and seeing confusion spread across his features.
“What are you talking about, Doc?” he asks.
She shakes her head and takes his bearded chin in her hand, squeezing tightly, wanting to make him feel her frustration. “I’m looking at the same face that I watched suffer the torture of Stefano DiMera at Maison Blanche, John,” she tells him with sudden tempestuousness, tilting her head and staring at him intensely.
“Marlena….”
“Don’t you realize?” she implores, a storm of weary exasperation in her voice and eyes. “Even after surviving that hell, here we are again!”
He just shakes his head, unable to deny the truth of her statement, but not wanting to accept it either.
“You know it’s true!” she charges. “We’re still just puppets in Stefano’s little theater of the bizarre, and I don’t know how much more I can take.How much more of this are we expected to endure? Sometimes I just want to give up! I need a rest! I – I just want a normal life!!”
John jerks out of the hold she has on his face and shouts, “Doc!”
She closes her eyes and buries her face in her hands as a new wave of convulsive crying arises. Shaking her head, because she knows he’s going to demand that she not give up. She suppresses the urge to hit him before he does. Because she’s heard it before. Again and again, which only seems to prove her point. Stefano’s games keep going on and on without end, and no matter how hard she and John fight him… no matter how many times he is defeated, they find themselves his victims once more.
She’s surprised when John rips her hands away from her face, compressing his big hands unyieldingly around her small wrists and suddenly imparting an urgent, scorching kiss upon her trembling lips.
Then pulling back and scalding her with the fire in his eyes, he beseeches, “You’re wrong, Doc! You’re *so* wrong! This isn’t the same face. Aren’t the same eyes you saw at Maison Blanche. This face, Marlena… *these* eyes are the eyes of a FREE man!”
The intense passion and spirit exuding from his voice, along with his searing blue eyes, paralyze her and she almost forgets to breathe.
“We may be at the mercy of DiMera again, but no matter how many times that man tries to kill me, lock me up, or try to destroy me…” he pauses, then growls through clenched teeth, “I am free! Because I know you love me! And I can finally tell you I love you too, and that fact makes all the difference in the world to me, Marlena! Your love has set me free, just like it did all those years ago, and it’s all I need. All I’ve ever needed! Do you understand that? Do you realize what your love means to me?”
Finally able to swallow and inhale deeply, Marlena smiles through her stilled tears and nods.
*Yes* is all she’s able to utter.
John’s eyes fill with tears as he takes in the sight of her face, tired but beautiful and full of love for him. “Then you have to know that now that we’re together again….” He stops and sighs, laughing lightly, “god, I still can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” she breathes.
He releases her hands and without unlocking the hold he has on her eyes, he moves in and gives her an infinitely passionate kiss.
Slowly breaking the kiss, but allowing his lips to linger at her mouth, he’s overwhelmed again at the mere presence of her so close that he can’t help but cry tears of joy. Then, holding her head between his hands, he whispers, “See, Doc, there isn’t anything he can do to us now. He can’t destroy this. How we feel… OUR LOVE. It’s too powerful, Marlena. Nothing can ever touch it again. I won’t let that happen.”
She pulls back so that she can see him, and when she does she reaches up and gently uses her fingertips to smear away streaks of dampness left by fallen tears.
“But, John….”
“No, Doc, look… don’t say it,” he begins, gathering some stray strands of her hair and tenderly tucking them behind her ear. “I know I’ve made promises like that before, and I can’t blame you for any loss of faith here. I’ve let you down so many times. I didn’t do everything I should’ve done to protect you, and you paid the price for my failures… for all the times I let myself be distracted by Kristen. All her lies. I’ll never be able to make that up to you. As much as I wish I could… I know that. I only hope you can forgive me. I just want you to know that now I won’t let anything stop me from devoting myself completely and entirely to you, only you.”
“I like the sound of that,” she whispers, “but there’s nothing to forgive, John. You’ve always been there for me. You certainly weren’t obligated to me. I never had to ask, you just seemed to know when I needed you. And I thank my lucky stars when I think of how many times you set aside your life and came to me when I was in my darkest hour.”
“But, Marlena… don’t you see, you might have been spared those dark hours if I….”
She quickly cups her hand over his mouth. “Stop. Now you look. I think, John, we have to realize that neither of us could predict what evil Stefano had in mind or when he would act on his plans. I surely never expected you to be able to do that. You’ve never purposely let me down,” she insists and removes her hand from his mouth.
“Maybe not, Doc, but I sure did. Over and over, and that’s a fact. A fact I don’t know if I can live with.”
She pauses, breathes in the thick jungle air and says, “Honey, the fact is, I wouldn’t be alive right now if it wasn’t for you.”
“But,” he demands, laughing at the irony, “don’t you see – you wouldn’t be HERE, in the mess… here right now, if it wasn’t for me, and the fact the I failed to see the obvious.”
“John, I would never have guessed what Kristen was doing if I hadn’t just come upon her when she was telling her mother the truth. She was out of control and very good at hiding it. And – and I don’t want to talk about her and what she did to us. All I know is that it’s over, John, it’s over… and if you hurt me it’s not because you wanted to, ok? You wouldn’t.”
“Doc, I’d do anything for you. I’ll do anything to keep you by my side from this day on,” John says, thankful for her gift of forgiveness and understanding. Something he knew he couldn’t give himself.
“I’d do anything for you, too,” Marlena whispers, as tears are revived anew in her blood-shot eyes.
They stare silently at each other for a moment, then Marlena watches as John’s face changes and becomes strained as her words sink in.
“You would. I know that,” he mutters under his breath. “You were….” He stops mid-sentence, turning away, his words getting caught in his throat as the moment he’s reliving overwhelms him with emotion… thinking back again to that moment in time. “I’m sorry,” he says trying to suppress the strangling onslaught of memories.
“What, John?” Marlena asks, stroking his bearded cheek.
He releases a sigh and turns back to her, placing his hand over hers, compressing it tightly against his face.
“John?” she beckons softly, seeing him becoming visibly upset; his chin and lips quivering as he tries to compose himself to speak. “Oh, Honey.”
He takes her hand away from his cheek and holds it, fondling it distractedly, looking at her delicate fingers, so full of scratches now, and broken fingernails. Then as he finally squelches the quaking in his heart he says, “It’s just that, well… I’ve never talked about it with you, but it still astounds me just to remember… to think about what you did.”
“What? What did I do? When?” she asks, touched and bewildered, trying to figure out what’s gotten him so stirred up he can barely speak. So unlike him. Smiling compassionately at him, she uses her free hand to touch his trembling lips gently with the tips of her fingers.
“Doc, you – you put your head above mine, and….” he says haltingly.
With his eyes still glued to the hand he holds in his, he is reliving the horrifying moment in Paris when he thought that not only he was going to die, but also the love of his life – the mother of his precious daughter. He hadn’t had much time to prepare himself to die, and absolutely NO TIME to prepare to take her with him. It was a moment that he couldn’t deal with even now, long after it had happened.
It was embedded in his heart like a jagged knife.
“Hmmm? I don’t understand,” Marlena questions, observing the far away look in his eyes, wondering what he’s seeing in his mind. Then slowly it dawns on her what he’s referring to and she sighs.
John looks up, regarding her silent, watchful gaze and smiles wistfully. “I was just remembering… Paris, you know? I was watching you, Doc… just wanting your beautiful face to be the last thing I saw in this life, but when I saw you break away and run to me,” he gasps, and Marlena stops his reminiscing by leaning up and covering his mouth with her lips gently, loving the sweet feel of his warm lips touching hers, and wanting to sweep away his melancholy. Then, as he breaks away and starts to shake visibly, she sighs and pulls him into an embrace. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he rests his head heavily on her shoulder and continues.
“See, I have a hard time dealing with that, Marlena. That you would be willing to die for me in an instant like that.”
He buries his face in her hair and breathes deeply, feeling like he’s drowning in the amount of love he has for her… completely and blissfully submerged.
“You saved my life,” he whispers ardently into her ear.
Pausing a moment to relish the feel of his hot breath against her ear, but then wanting to look in his eyes, Marlena pulls back and takes his head in her hands and says, “I didn’t want to live – if you were going to die trying to save me, I was going to do the same. I mean, I had thought you were dead, and to see you alive again… I was desperate not to lose you. Just like in Aremid, John. I’d do anything not to lose you. Anything.”
“Oh, Doc… my beautiful Marlena, you won’t lose me. And I won’t lose you again, baby. I’ve lost you too many times. I can’t do it again. And I was so wrong, so stupid not to fight for you, to keep you by my side. I won’t… I just can’t. I REFUSE TO LOSE YOU,” he says zealously as Marlena once more quickly moves to silence him. John groans, receiving her lips into a slow, intoxicating blend of mouths, lips and tongues. As they kiss, Marlena presses her body down hard against his, and John holds her tightly as they recline slowly back to the ground and reacquaint each other again with the ecstasy of their one of a kind passion.
“Doc?” John says, stopping at the end of a streak of kisses he’d planted along her jaw and neck.
“What?” she responds breathlessly, slipping gently in his arms, dropping her head down onto his chest as her hands follow, coming to rest there as well.
“I’ve come close to death a lot in my life, and especially recently. And, well, I’ve come to terms with my own mortality. I’m not afraid of death, Doc, I’m just sorry it took facing death for me to realize how much I still loved you and had you completely in my heart. And I’m sorry I let so many things stop me from admitting that to you. I should have known. I should’ve sensed you felt the same way.”
“I guess I could say the same thing,” she says, suddenly flinching as a spasm of pain radiates from her abdomen throughout her body. She winces and can’t help but clutch tightly to John until it passes.
“Doc, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” John asks urgently, holding onto her head and drawing her away from his body.
“Yes, Im fine,” she answers too quietly.
John searches her slumberous, dewy eyes and says, “Doc, I’m worried about you, baby.”
She shakes her head in an attempt to reassure him. “I’m… I’m just soooo tired,” she mutters quietly, closing her eyes and forcing her head out of his grip so she can rest it again on his chest and continue to feel his heart beating rhythmically under her. It was all she could do not to fall asleep. Exhaustion, both physical and emotional were threatening to sweep her away, but staying awake to cherish each moment spent in John’s arms kept the desire to fall under at bay.
“I know you are,” he says sadly, wrapping his arms around her tightly, “and you. God, you amaze me, Doc… you’ve been so strong through all this. You didn’t deserve any of it! And so much of it’s my fault. But if you let me. If you want me, I’m gonna to take your hand and walk along side you for the rest of our lives and do everything in my power to make it up to you. I want to make you happy… that’s all I want. I think you know it’s really all I ever wanted, but….”
“….but none of that matters anymore,” she says, and kisses his chest deeply, drawing her lips and tongue across his skin and tasting the saltiness of the sweat coating him. She rides the wave of his muscles rippling at her touch, and whispers, “Honey, I don’t want to remember all the empty years without you. It feels so good just to hold you right now, feeling your arms around me.”
John looks up into the cluttered sky, and smiles.
Then a rustling sound at close proximity erases the smile and he thinks, “What am I doing? I’ve got to get her out of here before that monster comes around.”
“Doc,” he whispers, slowly sitting up with her in his arms, “We have to move it.”
“Ok,” she agrees and they stand. John looks down at Val and grimaces to see the man’s face is swollen and plastered with blood, but still he has to fight the visceral urge to finish the job he began on him.
Marlena looks at John, and seeing his nostrils flair and jaw muscles flex furiously as he views the man she can’t bear to look at, she pats his chest, and grabs his arm quickly.
“Come on, Honey, lets go,” she coaxes. “John….”
After a moment, John inhales deeply, breaking free from the intense anger threatening to overtake him again. “Right,” he says, looking around and breathing in the air. “Which way, Doc? Which way do you think is back to where Stefano had you?”
She finds his hand and slips hers around his fingers. “That way I think,” she says pointing with her other hand, feeling like she’s been in this jungle for a year.
John turns to look at her, to give her a smile, but when he does his mouth drops open at the shocking sight screaming up at him. “Marlena!”
She jumps at the tone of his voice shouting her name, “What? What?”
“Oh my God, Doc, you’re *bleeding!*” he exclaims, as she tilts her head in confusion.
“I am?” she asks disbelieving; then reluctantly follows John’s terrified eyes down to where he’ staring. A high pitched gasp flees her mouth when she observes her muddy white gown plastered to her middle in a shocking blaze of scarlet. Skeptical of what she’s seeing, Marlena slowly moves to touch the blood-soaked material, then lifts her hand to regard the proof on her fingertips.
She looks up and tries to grab his arm, “John?”
“No! Nooooo!” he cries, when suddenly and quickly, Marlena’s eyes roll back and he barely manages to catch her swift descent to the ground.
Stefano’s puffy red eyes stare blankly through the enormous shield of glass toward the western sky. The flaming vermilion sun isn’t far from lying on the brink of a calm, amaranthine ocean, preparing to take a bow for delivering another near perfect day in paradise. But none of its quiet gracefulness is reflected in the eyes of the man standing in its wake. His Cimmerian eyes are bathing in madness, as a vision blocks out the affirmation of a setting sun.
She’s dead.
Hope of finding her alive after so long seems devastatingly impossible. He beats his breast and bellows, “How? How could this be?” Splaying his hands against the wall of glass, with the weight of his failure pressing down, he quietly sobs… telling himself that perhaps the end has finally come.
Frozen with fear, John looks down at an unconscious Marlena collapsed in his arms and he almost drops her at the horrifying, sudden thought that she’s dead.
“Hold on, baby… just hold on,” he says, believing God wouldn’t let her die like this. ‘She just fainted when she saw the blood,’ he reassures himself, while turning and looking for a spot to set her down. Quickly, but gently he lays her on the slight hill that graduates toward a huge tree. He breathlessly glares down at her bloody gown, then feels for a heartbeat with his fingertips on her throat. His eyes close with relief at the vigorous throbbing he detects there.
“That’s my girl!” he exclaims. Then lowering his ear to her mouth, he sighs with relief to hear her breathing normally. “You’re gonna be fine, Doc… now, come on and wake up. Wake up, Sweetheart. Come on, come on…” he coaxes as he looks at the bleeding, trying to see how bad it is.
“I don’t have much to work with here. I don’t have anything, God, so just make it stop, okay… ‘Cause I can’t lose this woman,” he pleads, while carefully tugging the nightgown up. When he gets it up over her waist, exposing the bleeding wound, he releases a shaky breath, and drops the gown in shock. “Ommm… my God,” he moans, falling back on his heels and bringing his hands up to cover his face.
Failing in her attempt to rise from the procumbent position she finds herself in after escaping through the back door of the kitchen to vomit, Kristen groans and curses her maker. With long clumps of hair flopped over her head, filtering her view of the ground at her nose, she tries to blink away the haze of cloudy vision when it seems to her someone, or *something* has scurried past her, knocking over a barrel of trash.
“What the hell… hello?” she mumbles, closing her eyes and rolling over onto her back. When she hears the rattle of a metal fence, she cranes her head and sees a quick blur of movement drop and speed away. Somewhere inside she knows that it can’t be, and that it isn’t him, but her mangled thinking calls out, “John? Is that YOU, John?” Then as the stench of the toppled garbage overcomes her, she tries to get up to go back inside, but instead, turns and retches again.
Whimpering, she struggles to her feet and traipses back inside the estate. When a servant catches her eye as she stumbles past him, she stops and leans over the counter separating them, and asks, “Where can I get lots of candles? Lots of them?”
The small man gives her a dubious glare, then turns back to continue cleaning the dead bird in his hands. She sighs indignantly, turns up her nose and throws up her arms, “Fine! I’ll find them myself… creep!” She tosses back her hair and begins rummaging through the wall of drawers lining the hallway of the large kitchen entrance.
When she finds a drawer full of various sized candles and boxes of matches, she screams with laughter and scoops a bunch of them into her arms and trudges back to her chambers to wallow in the madness and loneliness she has made of her life.
Marlena’s eyes float open when she regains consciousness and hears John’s distressed voice. “John… what? What’s the matter?”
“Doooooc,” John sighs and kisses her forehead. “Oh, thank God, you’re awake. You’re gonna be fine, just fine.”
With her mind slightly cloudy, unsure where they are or why she’s on the ground, she instantly feels the fact that her gown is gathered up around her, so she goes to pull it down. John stops her, placing his hand gently over hers.
“Doc, don’t….” he cautions.
“Well, what’s wrong?” she asks, slightly agitated. “Why did you say ‘Oh god’? And, my gown – why is it….”
“Honey, remember you were bleeding,” he says softly. “You fainted.”
“I did? Oh… right,” she says, remembering the fear and shock that overtook her at seeing blood on her fingers.
John caresses her dirt-smudged cheek. Then looking down again at her stomach, he feels another sudden wave of nausea and an endless torrent of rage ravage him. He smiles weakly to cover his anguish, and the *real* reason he was so horrified when he lifted her gown to see her wound. It wasn’t the wound, which was bad enough. It was the sight of all the bruises scattered across her body. On her legs, her hips… obviously caused by her struggle with Val. He fights to reject the tears threatening to appear in his eyes.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
She searches his eyes, this time wanting desperately to see that comforting desire to reassure her, but she finds him focused on her wound, his eyes clearly brimming with worry. He doesn’t seem to have heard her.
John stands suddenly, grabs her gently under the arms and bids, “Doc, help me here. Hold on while I lift you. You’re still bleeding. It’s not too bad, but I have to stop it. You should be sort of sitting up, right?”
“Uh huh, and John… honey, you have to stop the bleeding….”
“I know that, Doc!” he says curtly, feeling himself starting to panic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Holding onto John’s arms, while he props her up against the tree, Marlena catches her breath when pain erupts through her middle. She drops her head down on his arm, and begins to quietly moan in distress.
“What’s wrong? Doc?”
Letting go of him, Marlena lifts her head and lowers it back against the rough bark of the tree. She quickly wipes a fallen tear from her cheek and says, “I’m okay now. Just a bit of pain.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, brushing back some hair plastered to her cheek with sweat.
“I’m alright,” she lies, as a wave of dizziness follows the bout of pain. Closing her eyes, trying to cancel the dizzy spell, she asks, “Is the bleeding slowing down? Has it stopped?”
John jumps up and surveys the area around them somewhat frantically. “I don’t think so. Dammit! I don’t have…. Doc, did this jerk have a backpack or anything with him?” he asks brusquely, standing over Val’s, still unconscious body, glaring down at him in disgust.
“No. I don’t think so,” she answers, then opens her eyes and looks with puzzlement at John.
“Dammit… DAMN IT!” John shouts, his anger and frustration reaching a crescendo.
“What are you looking for?” She asks, somewhat impatiently.
“Doc, that wound’s a mess! I’m afraid it’s becoming infected. I want to clean it, but I don’t have… sh*t to work with here!” he yells thunderously, spinning in a frustrated whirl. Then, after taking a deep breath, he walks back to her and sees tearful, tired eyes looking up at him. He instantly regrets letting his desperation show again, but it’s overwhelming him… realizing he has to bring her back to the place she escaped; perhaps straight back into Stefano’s evil clutches. Because if he doesn’t, he fears she WILL die… eventually. He closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and shudders to consider that possibility, knowing he’s helpless here to stop the inevitable if he doesn’t do what his heart is telling him could be even worse than death, but his head knows there is no other way. He wants to scream in agony as he’s faced with a seemingly no win situation.
He kneels down next to her, once again confronted with the brutality of the bruises and bloody wound. Marlena takes his hand and says, “Don’t worry about cleaning the wound, we just have to stop the bleeding. Now, I’d do it myself, but I don’t think I have the strength, and I feel like I could lose consciousness here at any time, and besides, your hand is so much bigger, so you have to put pressure to stop the bleeding, okay?”
“Uh, of course,” he says, taking his hand from hers and looking at it. “But, Doc, it’s filthy.”
“Look, you have to stop the bleeding… that doesn’t matter now. There’s nothing we can do about that.”
John breathes in deeply, exhales fiercely, and sweeps his forearm across his face to remove the sweat that never seems to stop coursing down. “Sorry, Doc, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he sighs, quickly taking his hand and pressing it down on the bleeding wound.
“Keep it there for a while, okay,” she tells him, delicately placing her own hand over his, and looking up at him with a comforting, sad smile.
He smiles back tentatively and admits, “Actually Doc, I do know what’s wrong with me. If you were anyone else. If I was trying to help just any old body in your situation, I don’t know, maybe I’d be thinking a little more clearly. But, god help me, it’s YOU, and I don’t want to make any mistakes. Dear Lord, I can’t. The mere thought of being without you again. Of losing you – well….”
“I know,” she whispers, “It’s alright. I feel the same way.” She follows the trail of a tear that has escaped from his loving eyes, despite his obvious efforts to keep it at bay.
“There are so many things I want to say to you. So many ways I want to show you how much I love you; how much I’ve always loved you,” John declares, looking down at her small hand covering his, and tenderly placing his other hand over it. “I just love you so much, Marlena… Desperately, in fact.” he says, finally looking up at her and smiling with a shyness so sweet that it makes Marlena’s already queasy stomach do flip flops.
She can’t speak, and finds herself struggling to swallow. Squeezing her eyes shut she finally ends up having to cough to free the air caught in her throat.
“You okay, Doc?” John asks frantically, thinking that her condition must be causing her problems breathing. She reaches blindly for him, and nods her head when she at last can swallow and breathe normally.
“What happened?”
“I’m fine,” she assures him. “Nothing happened exactly. You just. Well, what you said touched me so.” She smiles, giggling slightly as her eyes blink away tears of serene happiness. “I guess I got a little choked up. Literally.”
Relieved, John sighs, “Whew… don’t do that to me.”
“Well, don’t *you* do that to *me*,” she teases, breathing easily, and seeing how truly in love he was with her; how the slightest thing she did affected him deeply. And it reminded her so much of the time she thought he was Roman, and how when she was married to this sweet man, she felt he would do anything to make her happy and keep her safe from harm.
She reaches up and combs back his sweat drenched hair, and then lets her hand lazily fall down the side of his bearded cheek.
After losing her way in the gaze of his sapphire eyes, she pops out of it and changes the subject back to the present. “John,” she says, waking him from what must have been a similar daydream. “Let’s see if the bleeding has stopped by now.”
“Are you sure? Has it been long enough?” She shakes her head and they both look down as they gently take their hands away from the wound. After inspecting it, they both sigh in unison, then look up into each other’s eyes with identical expressions of relief.
“Okay,” John says, taking her hand and closing his eyes as he squeezes it tightly. “Thank you, God.”
Swallowing hard, he opens his eyes and glances away. His sight catches a crumpled mound lying on the ground. He stands, steps carefully over her legs and snatches it up. Viewing it, John realizes it’s Val’s shirt. He can’t breathe suddenly when he sees the rips in the material, remembering the piece of cloth he’d found before – that had spelled out in no uncertain terms to him that Marlena was in big trouble. And sure enough she…. He squeezes his eyes shut, grimacing with pain at the memory, and stopping it cold.
“John, what is it?”
“Just what’s his name’s shirt,” he tells her. Then, making sure he’s far from Marlena, he shakes it out and curses to see it’s filthy. He ties it tightly around his waist, mindful that it may be too dirty to use on her wound, but could possibly be utilized somehow down the line.
“Where’s that… rifle?” He grumbles, suddenly feeling the enormous pressure to get Marlena help immediately, and knowing he’s helpless to get it immediately. Turning and searching the ground again, he realizes he’s just wasting too much time. When he finds the weapon, he places it against his back, secured by Val’s shirt, then squats down beside Marlena.
“John, what now?”
“I’m wasting precious time here, Honey,” he says, and delicately brings the dirty, bloodied gown down over her tender belly. “I can’t clean the wound, and I have nothing clean to put over it. I’m just thankful the bleeding stopped, but if we don’t get you to that doctor of Stefano’s it’s going to get infected for sure.”
“If it isn’t already,” she finishes; knowing it’s on its way.
John nods, sighing with a deep sense of defeat. “You’re the doc, Doc. I’ll take any suggestions but, it seems to me we don’t have anything remotely close to a choice. I don’t want to take you back there, baby,” he says, shaking his head with foreboding.
Marlena reaches up and rests her hand against the side of his careworn face. It breaks her heart to see him so pained and agitated. She musters what she can of her remaining hope and courage, and says, “And I don’t want to go back there, John, but we have to take our chances.” She shudders to think what could happen… what Stefano will do when he finds John’s ALIVE. But, she knows as well as John that they don’t have the luxury of time or any other alternatives. And, they have others to think of as well. “We have to get home to those babies. They need us… and we can’t let them down again.”
“You, Doc, have never let them down! I have… but you’re right, we don’t have any options here. So, we’ll take our chances, and we’ll get home. We’re survivors, right Doc? We got out of that warehouse, didn’t we? We came through that for a reason…” John says firmly, warranting a response from Marlena.
She closes her eyes, feeling that strange mix of pain and joy, and says, “…Belle.”
“BELLE,” he ratifies. “And everything we’ve gotten through before and since… hell, why should this be any different, right? Right?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispers, smiles, and looks into his eyes and remembers all the times those blue eyes of his were there to look into and find strength, love and hope. Whether in times they were together or apart, those eyes were always present for her. They never looked away.
John takes the palm of her hand to his mouth and gives it a declarative kiss. He looks up at the darkening skies while he helps her to stand. “Let’s go. It’s getting dark, but we can’t wait for morning.” Once Marlena’s standing he watches her closely then tilts her head to look straight into her eyes. “You okay?”
Marlena nods ‘YES’ while fighting the urge to scream ‘NO’ as the moment she stands, a torturous uproar of pain courses through her body. John can detect it though, and quickly, but gently sweeps her up in his arms.
“You’re going to *carry* me?”
John gives an ‘are you kidding’ look, then says, “Let’s go home, Doc.”
“Home,” she agrees, giving him an intrepid smile, then closing her eyes, resting her head against him.
“The only place you two are going is… to meet your maker.”
With his head resting in his hands, Abe Carver’s tired eyes loom heavily over the confines of the Seahawk’s interior. The pilot has just informed them that they are about to land for another refueling; the last one before getting to the isolated island where he hopes to find his friends. He fights to keep fear out of his mind and tries to visualize a successful outcome.
He sits back and crosses his legs, wishing he’d been able to contact Bo Brady to come along, when one of the young detectives he’d recruited offers him yet another cup of coffee.
“Don’t move,” Val warns in a shaky, but ever-icy voice. John doesn’t comply. Stunned, shaking his head in disbelief, he looks down into the eyes of a very distressed Marlena and lowers her to the ground. Slowly, he turns to face the man while bracing Marlena behind him, cloaking her from view. He takes a deep breath, then clamps down his jaw tightly as he discovers Val pointing a revolver at them. ‘Of course the bastard had another gun,’ he thinks, mentally kicking himself for not searching him while he was unconscious.
John can’t think of a single thing to say that could possibly deter the man from shooting, so his mind concentrates on protecting Marlena; to somehow make sure she survives if he doesn’t.
Marlena tries to wrap her arms around John’s waist, but he tears them away, trying to keep her camouflaged. Her wobbly legs want to drop her to the ground, and her mouth wants to open with a deafening scream, but she somehow remains standing in terrified silence.
John sees that Val’s eyes are almost completely swollen shut, and that he’s struggling to remain standing.
“Hey, steady there….”
“Shut the hell up!” Val screams, waving the gun at John. Swerving drunkenly, with a fat lip, he slurs, “I don’t know how the – how in hell did you survive that bullet?”
“I guess….”
“I said, ‘Shut up’!” Val interrupts with a snarl, losing his balance with the force of his words, and pausing to level himself. Then, continuing with equal venom, he says, “You’re not going to survive this one! This time it’s not just for DiMera!”
Then in what seems like slow motion, John watches Val squint his eyes and steady his aim. He blinks, and inhales deeply as he prepares to push Marlena away and lunge for Val, his heart already stopping to think what will happen to her when he’s dead. Then, to his horror, he feels the rifle being drawn away from his back. ‘No, Doc… no no no,’ he pleads helplessly to himself. He feels her slide the barrel through the space between his arm and side. Stifling a trembling gasp, he freezes with trepidation and finally, after seemingly endless moments without breathing, he allows himself a strained exhale.
Before he has a chance to think about what will happen next, his body shakes and his head and heart shatter the instant Marlena delivers a decisive bullet into Val.
Stefano stops suddenly and leans against the frame of the door he was passing through on his way to check once again on the progress of his search for Marlena. He folds his arms across his massive chest, and sighs heavily, regarding a disheveled Kristen, who had barely missed colliding with him. Blocking her path now, he gives her a weary, skeptical once over, as she casually tosses back her tangled shock of bleached out hair. If it weren’t for his complete distraught for the wounded Marlena, he knows he would be feeling sympathy for her situation. Instead he only feels pity and anger towards this woman whom he had once been immensely proud and adoring of.
Seeing the hostility in his eyes, Kristen allows her defenses to kick in, even though she wants to beg him for forgiveness so she can once again feel his love. He had always been the most important man in her life. Always HIM. She remembered defending him to John so many times, and never letting John win when he fought so hard for her to see the truth of who the man really was. As much as she told herself that John’s love meant the world to her, Stefano’s love was much more important. It was worth rejecting John, worth making John lie for her, and it was worth marrying Tony when she knew her love for him was second to John. It was a powerful force, and now, faced once again with the awful pain of his rejection, she can’t let him see her weakness for that love.
“Kristen,” Stefano says in a deep monotone, observing how she is clutching an armful of candles. “What do you plan on doing with all of those?”
“Well, Stefano,” she begins, “I’m pampering myself. Candles soothe my soul… and thanks to you, it needs lots of consoling.”
“I see.”
“Speaking of which, I guess you’re in the same boat, huh, Stefano… I mean, I can’t imagine Marlena ever coming back to you all in one piece. It’s just such a *jungle* out there.” Her mouth curls into a tentative smirk, watching closely to see his reaction to her corrosive words. And when he doesn’t reveal a hint of emotion on his face, she continues, wanting to burn him.
“I mean, I wonder what happened to her? Do you suppose… maybe a snakebite, or perhaps she fell to her death, or… the possibilities are endless aren’t they? You know – eight million ways you can die, and here, well, the ways are just a bit more…” she widens her eyes and grins devilishly, “COLORFUL!”
A swift slam of Stefano’s fist against the wall causes her to jump, and drop the candles, which roll away in all directions. She lets out a frightened sob, falls to her knees and scurries after them.
Stefano takes a moment to collect himself, then kicks a candle out of his path and walks around her.
“Doc!” John cries exultantly, seeing Val drop the gun and collapse in a heap to the ground. In shock he bends over in complete relief to catch his breath, and wipes at the sweat drenching his face. “Oh my god, Doc… I can’t believe you did that! You are amazing! Have I told you that….”
He turns to see Marlena sitting on the ground, the rifle discarded at her feet, with her arms tightly wrapped around her middle and her head resting on her raised knees. Quickly, his elation turns to fear as he falls to the ground next to her and engulfs her tense body in his arms.
“Baby…. Are you okay? What’s wrong? Doc… honey?” John asks worriedly into her hair as she moans lightly.
“I – I guess the force of the shot… it threw me back, but John,” she whispers, looking up at him finally, “the pain. It’s getting… ohhhh god.”
“Damn,” John mutters, seeing the fear and distress in her eyes and his mind starts to run in circles. He frantically stands and grabs the rifle, and shoves it back where Marlena had taken it from. Then he bends and quickly but gently lifts her into his arms.
As he begins to walk briskly away with her, Marlena squeezes his neck and says, “Stop….”
“What is it, Doc?”
“Is he dead?”
“I don’t know, Doc… and I don’t care!”
Marlena closes her eyes, and feels a tinge of shame at feeling the same way, but she makes herself say, “We can’t just leave him.”
“We can, and we are. Don’t you worry ’bout that. You just saved my life, baby, now I’ve got to return the favor! All I want you to do is concentrate on getting strong, you hear me? Now hang on tight and say a prayer,” he commands, and lays a trenchant kiss upon her trembling lips.
Sighing, she reaches up and tenderly places her hand over one side of his face, framing his handsome features… wanting to capture him forever in her mind and heart. This man she loves like no other.
“I love you,” she says in an almost silent purr, feeling pure joy that came with the freedom to say such precious words to him once again…. ‘Hopefully,’ she prays, ‘… not for the *last* time,’ as she feels the great pull of complete exhaustion.
Kicking her way into her untidy quarters, Kristen smiles when she sees that her nightstand is still stocked with some of Stefano’s superior wine that she’d assembled there earlier. “Mmmmm,” she moans, licks her lips and dumps the candles on her bed. “Which to open next….” She ponders, then shakes her head and grabs the remaining hunk of baguette lying next to the wine, stuffs it into her mouth and begins to undress as she makes her way to take a bath. “First, my bubbles await,” she mumbles through the bread. “You boys be good while I’m gone, you hear,” she instructs the collection of eager bottles.
Then, pausing and tilting her head, she grabs one, and whispers to it, “Okay, you can come with.” She kisses the label, and goes into the bathroom to commence her evening of bacchanalia for one.
“Here I come, Mr. Bubble….”
Coming through a cluster of green, feeling like his back has been broken one hundred times, John looks up and blinks several times to clear the sweat collecting on his lashes. Emitting a sigh of fruition, he sidesteps to rest against a tree and breathlessly says, “Doc, we made it.” He groans with exhaustion and pain as he slides down to sit, cradling Marlena in his arms. He can’t believe how close they had been to the fortress looming only yards ahead of them now.
“John….” Marlena says groggily, waking when John dropped to the ground to rest.
“Yeah, Doc, it’s right over there,” he says, leaning down to her ear. “We’re going to get you all fixed up now, then go home. How’s that sound?”
She draws back and looks at him through bleary hazel eyes. “Okay,” she whispers, and tries to form a smile on her face, but fails. She wraps her arms tightly around his neck and begins to cry when she suddenly feels submerged with the fear of losing him.
“It’s going to be all right, Doc,” John insists.
She isn’t sure what it is, whether it’s being so close to where Stefano is or the culmination of everything she’s been through, but she can’t pretend like he is that things are going to go their way. She shakes her head frantically, as the terror begins to capitalize her whole being.
John closes his eyes and fights his own desire to cry right with her. He inhales deeply and takes her head in his hands and with a deep abetting voice says, “Now listen to me… stop. Stop that. I know you’re tired. I know you’re at the end of your rope, and you’re scared. I am too. But we have to be strong now. I need you. I need your courage. We can get through anything together, remember?”
Before she can muster an answer through her sobbing he kisses her deeply, at last finding a way to calm her. And when their kiss ends, John looks at her, hoping to see less anxiety in her eyes, but while her crying has lessened her eyes are mushrooming with fear.
“John,” she says, squeezing him tightly, and thinking that kiss did nothing to console her, it only added to her already intense desire not to lose him. “I don’t think I can take it. I was trying not to think about it, and it was working, but now it’s not.”
“What?” he says, as he struggles to stand up.
“I can’t go back there. I couldn’t take it if he finally kills you. You have to know he’s going to KILL you the minute he sees you’re alive. I don’t want you to die!”
“I’m not going to die, Doc,” he asserts, as he begins to walk with her in his arms toward the estate.
She slams her palm down on his chest and cries, “Yes, you will! If you go in there, you will! So, I want you to let me go in by myself, and you get away. Please don’t let him see you!” she commands, scanning his forward-looking eyes for a hint that he’s listening to her plea. “John! Put me down now,” she demands, seeing clearly that he has no intention of doing what she wants.
“Nope, sorry, I am NOT dumping you off like I’m delivering a gift package to that man!”
“Well, that’s what I’ll be after he KILLS you!”
Then she begins to hit him, harder and harder, the faster and faster he increases his stride. She grows infuriated when she watches his eyes grow steely, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tighten in a determined line.
“Don’t do this, Doc,” John urges calmly, barely able to keep a smile from breaking across his face. He’s finding her strikes upon his body to be an encouraging sign that her fighting spirit will get her through whatever they have to face in a few minutes.
“Put me down,” she says one last time, admitting defeat with one last soft slap.
“Ha! See, I can be just as stubborn as you,” he brags, finally letting the smile he was suppressing appear and then showing it to her with relish.
In a tired, but sweet whisper, Marlena says, “That must be why I love you so much.
Carrying his precious cargo, John tries hard to walk as quietly as possible through the thick verdure enclosing the outer perimeter of the estate, striving to ignore the burning ache assaulting his body. Marlena’s hand rests upon his chest, and it’s chill frightens him, driving him onward to what he knows could mean the end of everything for him and the beginning of hell on earth for her. With each step forward he battles to dismiss that agonizing prospect along with the gnawing physical pain.
When they emerge from the cover of greenery, into the open space where Stefano’s island estate seems to begin but appears to have no end, John stops and squints to focus. With the onset of dusk, the dim glow of lights from inside the massive structure can be seen through both huge slabs of glass and small, oddly shaped windows scattered along the façade of the fortress. John tilts his head, thinking how beautiful yet ominous it looks with it’s dark stony visage, and he half expects to suddenly see his nemesis appear like a phantom in front of one of those lighted apertures. Shivers run up his spine as sweat falls down his face. He remembers the last time he saw Stefano. The sound of his demented laughter echoes inside John’s mind and the corner of his mouth curls up at the thought of how Stefano’s attempt to kill him had failed again. He swears the taste of blood is filling his mouth, as the years of torment at DiMera’s hands petition for revenge. Then he feels the weight he carries in his arms and knows that *revenge* is the last thing he should be contemplating.
Forgive me, God… this is *entirely* in your hands now. Please bring Marlena home to her children. I beg you, don’t punish her any longer for my failures.
He closes his eyes as he feels his legs beginning to crumble. Then as if she’s heard his prayer and felt his anguish, Marlena’s hand is upon his face, touching him with endless benevolence. Without opening his eyes to look at her, he wholly relishes her sweet caress. Then, as her hand moves across his mouth he finds solace in the mercy she offers and presses his lips gently into her palm, and beckons God once again to deliver her from his arms to a safer place.
“John….”
“Hey, Doc,” he says, finally looking down into her exhausted, cloudy eyes. “You okay? Hang in there, baby.”
She nods, and attempts a stalwart smile through the ever-increasing haze of her failing health.
John winks at her, takes a deep breath and begins to walk forward to what he thinks has to be an entrance. There’s a path lined with brilliantly glowing flowers in the colorless light of evening that begs to be followed.
Why am I doing this? This is crazy… it’s suicide!
As his foot touches down on the first of a long line of embedded stones he suddenly stops dead in his tracks when he hears some rustling in the brush behind them. Motionless, his eyes dart down to Marlena and he soundlessly tells her not to make a noise. She shakes her head, and tenses her grip around him. He grinds his teeth together and shakes his head back at her, trying to enforce his plea to stay quiet. He sees the fright in her eyes and has to look away or he knows he won’t be able to resist the urge to hold her fast and tight and run in the opposite direction.
After moments of stone-still silence, they look at each other, wondering why nobody has confronted them. Then John jumps when he feels something hit him hard on his shoulder blade, then another on his head. His eyes flash with fear and then exasperation.
Why the hell is someone throwing things at me?
Then he hears retreating movement in the foliage behind them and absolute quiet once again. He turns around and sees nothing there but the dark lushness of the forest.
“It’s okay, Doc,” he whispers, not believing his own words. “I think something just fell from a tree.”
Marlena sighs, as the panic in her heart extends to her limbs and she closes her eyes briefly before slapping her hands to his face and forcefully pulling an unprepared John into a desperate kiss. This time he can’t avoid the emotions she’s feeling… that he shares, and his tears meld with hers as their kiss carries them to another plane, where time stands captive to their love and renders them free from its bindings.
And the world goes away.
Stefano finds himself standing in the threshold of the room he’d prepared so meticulously for he and Marlena to share once she had finally come to him willingly. He feels regret that he hadn’t shown it to her… given her just a small taste of the splendor he wanted to lavish upon her for the rest of their lives. It was an enormous space; surfeited with conspicuous items of beauty. He smiles as he approaches an original Degas, and glides his knuckles across the rough surface of applied paint. Across a dancer’s timeless pose.
Lost in self-pity, he moves to the grand bed they would have spent blissful nights in and sits staring blankly at the bedding that had never once been pulled back.
Biting his lip, he rises and strolls toward an unobtrusive desk and opens the top drawer. Retrieving a folder, he opens it and stares at the contents closely. It was the proof he was going to present to her if she doubted him. With a light stroke of his stout index finger across the photo, he smiles wistfully and then closes the file and replaces it as he begins to feel some solace in his mind about what he’d done even though she would never know now.
“John….”
“Hmmm,” he breathes through trembling lips pressed to the side of her face. The pain and desperation in her voice simply speaking his one syllable name tears at his soul and he feels overwhelming regret for bringing them to this point in time… where the end seems to have finally caught up with them. So, he closes his eyes, and tries to forget, solely concentrating on the physical here and now, perhaps his only remaining moments on this earth.
“I can’t… go on without you,” she says in between broken sobs, feeling that she has never spoken truer words. Because suddenly everything she has suffered in this life seems to pale in comparison to how it will feel to have him ripped away from her again and forever.
“Come on, Marlena,” he says slightly teasing, “Let’s be honest here, you’ve done just fine for a lot of years without me, and pretty damn well before I ever showed up.” He wants to tell her that he’s also pretty sure that if he’d never shown up she’d have had a lot less misery in her life. But that was so pathetic, and deep in his heart he knew that it had been fated, destined and sealed in eternity.
Hearing him say what he just uttered infuriates her, but before she can react, he continues.
“This isn’t over yet, Doc,” he says, not knowing where *that* came from when he can’t stop thinking this *is* the last time he will hold her so close… feel her breath against his face and taste her sweet lips. He closes his eyes and tears bleed down his sunken cheeks as a muted sob stalls his words for a moment. “No matter, Doc… what happens here I want you to know how blessed I feel to have had you in my life. To have the gift of your love, and I’m – I’m sorry I haven’t always lived up to it and that I caused you so much pain for needing it and wanting it so badly. I just want you to know that.”
“No, I don’t *want* to know that. I don’t want you saying good-bye to me… STOP IT,” she begs, feeling anger and terror flaring inside. “Gosh, you make me so mad! One minute you’re telling me not to give up, and the next you’re saying so long, babe.”
“Oh, god… no Doc, I’m *not* saying that. I didn’t mean it to sound that way. No, never, never….” Then blindly he moves to find her lips and with agonizing tenderness kisses her until the pain of thinking it’s their last one vanishes and he finds the strength to go forward.
Pacing back and forth, Stefano’s boots assault the tile floor of the security room where he’s come to check one last time for progress on Marlena’s whereabouts, before thinking he will find her *himself*. *Dead* or *alive*. After staring blindly at the bank of dormant screens, he stops his march of frustration and slams his fists down on the counter.
“Where is that fool? Why hasn’t he found her?” he blusters out in a seething fit of pique. “Imbecile! Incompetent….”
“Look at this, Mr. DiMera,” a mellow voice interrupts. Stefano shoves past the guard to see what’s on the monitor he’d only taken his eye off of for a moment. His eyes widen with a rapid flux of emotions at what he sees, from relief, to joy, to fury and finally to triumph.
“Baby, I’m gonna put you down now, okay? Then we’re gonna get you all taken care of,” John says, gliding her battered, weakened body gently from his arms to the ground.
When she touches down, Marlena’s legs falter and she uses all her strength to hang onto the arm he immediately has around her, bracing her to his side protectively while he reaches for the rifle tied behind him. She raises her head up to see he’s looking at her. Smiling and gritting his teeth together with the determination she knows so well, Marlena holds his eyes in her sight for one last moment. Then she bequeaths her own smile upon him and with all her might pushes him down hard onto the ground and runs away from him.
“Marlenaaaaa! No! Don’t!” John cries as he scrambles to his feet, charging after her and directly into Stefano’s hulking frame; his monstrous arms possessively slashing around Marlena’s body. Without hesitation he takes a quick step back and raises the gun to Stefano’s head.
“I wouldn’t do that, John,” Stefano warns coldly, his dark eyes flagrantly proclaiming victory. The sight of the man, his flesh crushing Marlena to him, makes the finger John has poised on the trigger itch uncontrollably for revenge and justice.
“Never again, old man,” he says, his eyes narrowing with untold hatred.
“Don’t shoot, John,” Marlena pleads as she fights to extend her trembling hand toward him, wanting so desperately to be out of Stefano’s foul grip. Her head is swimming in a fog of fear and encroaching fever as she watches what feels like a slow motion nightmare… and John slipping away from her, fading into the haze.
“He deserves to die. He’s going to die….”
Stefano’s evil grin fuels John’s desire for blood as he begins to squeeze the trigger, then he freezes as he feels the cold tip of metal press into his back, and the sound of laughter storming forth from Stefano.
“Drop the gun, John. *Now*!” Stefano says, cutting his laughter off with a stern command.
John blinks away the sweat clinging to his lashes and looks at Marlena and sees she’s barely conscious. Oh, Marlena, if I could just touch you one last time… his heart aches.
If dropping the rifle would save her he knows he wouldn’t hesitate to do it, but he knows better. He’s a dead man either way, and the only way to save her was to kill Stefano… *finally* and *irrevocably*
She doesn’t feel the tears sailing down her face, or the pain assaulting her from her cut up feet to her pounding head. All Marlena *feels* is the agony crushing her heart and soul as she fights against the man who’s been tearing her life apart for almost as long as she can remember being alive. And now he’s about to do it yet again.
For the last time… because she’ll be nothing but *dead* when he finally severs her completely from all she loves or wants in this life.
From Belle… who won’t even remember the sound of her voice, the feel of her gentle touch and possibly even the love they shared. And Brady, who she had tried to give a sense of the special love, and bond he was missing since the loss of his mother… but she hadn’t had the time or opportunity, and now he would lose his father as well as her. What would happen to those two innocent babies? The thought of them becoming orphans shattered her.
Then there were the twins and Carrie, who would be casualties of Stefano’s yet again; she had hoped she’d have time to help them heal. To help them *all* find some kind of peace. And there were others… dear precious friends and family whose support had gotten her through so much. She didn’t want to survive this time just to be without them.
Without John.
He’s here… standing just yards away and she knows from somewhere deep inside her barely conscious body that she’s crying out to him, but she can’t hear anything. She feels her body separating from her mind as her eyes can barely focus on what she’s seeing right in front of her. A man has a gun jammed into John’s back and she’s shaking and screaming with the horror of that bullet ripping into his body and how it’ll feel to watch him fall to the ground… how her heart will stop the instant his does. There was no way she could stop it and it was making her crazy with helplessness. And hopelessness, because the fight is draining out of her as she feels her body abandon her.
God, how she wanted to wake up from this nightmare! Or die with him.
“Put the gun down, John and I’ll be a good sport and call it a draw and you can leave here with your life,” Stefano offers calmly.
It angers John unendingly to think Stefano could even *consider* he’d ever believe anything that came out of his depraved mouth. Wasted words. Didn’t the bastard realize by now that he would *die* for Marlena? And taking him down at the same time added immeasurably to the sacrifice?
A grin suddenly crosses John’s face as he grasps the fact that, *of course* Stefano *knew* that. He was simply stalling for time.
For a moment John allows his steady eye to shift from Stefano’s diabolic glare to Marlena who’s heartbreaking cries are tearing into him. His every last instinct is demanding… no, *begging* him to throw down the gun and rip her out of Stefano’s arms and hold her, comfort her, and kiss away every tear and ounce of pain. He’s in agony seeing her, in that torn and bloody gown, writhing against the mammoth brutality of Stefano’s restraint. When he can no longer bear it he trains his sight again on Stefano and steadies his aim. The beast’s eyes at last reveal his fate and John feels a sudden serenity fill him, knowing he’s about to end it all….
*Finally* all his empty promises to protect her would be erased with a single bullet. Finally a chance to set her free.
Even through the blinding, deafening fog she’s under Marlena can see what John’s about to do and she becomes paralyzed, sinking into Stefano’s arms; her body and her voice no longer able to sustain her immutable desire to *never* give up. To never let Stefano win.
“John,” she whispers hoarsely one last time as she feels herself slowly slipping out of consciousness. No, Marlena, she commands her spirit, Don’t let John do this. Don’t let him go…. But what she wants is unattainable; she’s trapped inside a body denying her the ability to act. All she knows is that if she could she would do *anything* to save him and stop this pain.
Stefano growls deep from within his belly as he sees John’s eye slowly squint and he knows what his only choice is.
“Don’t do it, John.” He warns in a deep, still murmur, and nods at his guard, ceding to him what must be done. Then, just as he hears Marlena’s unremitting cries finally end, her body wilts against him, obviously no longer equipped for battle. Relieved, his eyes quickly dart to John as he twists Marlena around, lifting her body up tightly in front of his, bracing her against him as a shield from the bullet he knows John’s about to inflict.
Flustered by Stefano’s sudden cowardly act, John stumbles out of his motionless stance for a moment, backing into the gun wedged in him and the pain it exacts is enough to ballast him instantly. Quickly looking at Marlena he prays for her to somehow hear the last words to her from his heart, I love you, Doc, forever… you’re finally free… *we’re* finally free.
His face reveals a tranquil smile. Close enough to reposition his aim to avoid hurting Marlena, he does so. Then as his finger begins to pull against the pressure of the trigger he can’t help but allow his eyes to trail back to Marlena’s beautiful face… for her extremely precious life to be his last sight.
Thank God, Doc I had the chance to tell you… to show you again that I love you. Dear God, I don’t want to leave you!
“Don’t John…. Don’t,” Stefano growls.
Marlena blindly tries to move… to reach out and *find* him. To do anything she can to prevent this, but still her body won’t oblige. Then suddenly she feels a simple clear voice thread into her heart telling her to *stop* fighting because everything’s going to be all right.
“… Love you, Doc,” John barely chokes out a whisper, and decidedly pulls against the trigger. As he does, he sees Marlena’s eyes suddenly fly open as though she’s heard his almost silent words, then without warning she falls through Stefano’s arms and hits the ground.
“Doc!” he screams, shocked, thinking he somehow must have shot her. In an instant he crashes to the ground and grabs her up in his arms, frantically pleading for her to wake up.
“Marlena!” Stefano shouts, aghast at the way she’d slipped from his hold, and horrified that John could have shot her.
The man standing behind John was equally taken off guard by her sudden collapse. He hadn’t been able to react fast enough, and before he knew it his intended victim was down on his knees holding the woman. Looking at his boss, he watches for any sign that his failure to shoot was going to be his own death. Relieved to see Stefano focused on his two victims instead, he hopes the *matter* will be seen for the impossibility that it was. Even if he’d gotten his bullet into Black before Black pulled the trigger, it wouldn’t have been enough to stop him from his goal.
He shakes his head, for the first time contemplating what kind of hatred… and what kind of *love*… would drive someone to be willing to die just to make sure your enemy didn’t win. He sighs, not wanting to think anymore about it, and steps up, once again aiming his weapon, at the ready.
John looks Marlena over and is somewhat relieved when he can find no fresh blood and he knows she hasn’t been shot. God help him that he hadn’t killed her. He realizes the bullet must have gone astray when the shock of seeing her eyes flash open to him caused him to lose aim. And further proof was hovering over him in a very *alive* Stefano. But, if she wasn’t shot, then *what*? Why?
“No, Doc… nooooo,” he cries, horrified that she just wasn’t strong enough to survive this. As hard as she had tried to hold on she just couldn’t fight anymore. “God, please no….”
This wasn’t suppose to happen… *she* wasn’t supposed to die!
“Is she alive?” Stefano demands, frightened that the worst has happened. He tries to pry John away from Marlena but John bristles violently at his touch.
“Get away, Stefano! Don’t touch her… don’t you *touch* her!” he roars through clenched teeth and wild, desperate eyes bleeding with rage and anguish as he tries to shelter her from Stefano’s reach. Marlena’s lifeless body lies heavily across John’s legs as he rabidly tries to find a pulse. He brushes tangled hair away from her neck then presses his fingertips to her throat and at the same time leans his face down to her slightly open mouth invoking her breath to ascend to his cheek. The instant the warmth from inside her tiptoes across his dirty, bearded skin he reclines slightly and releases unsteady gasps of relief. “Thank you, God… thank you… hang on, baby.”
Then he clutches her fast to his chest, turns and looks fiercely at Stefano and blasts, “Look at her! You bastard! Look at her! Do you see what your sick games have done?” Not waiting for a response, he presses his face against Marlena’s and whispers words of comfort and prays for her not to leave him.
Then as frustration builds when she doesn’t come around, he begins to cajole her.
“Come on, Doc… stop ignoring me will ya? Don’t *do* this,” he pleads urgently. “How can you give up so easily? Dammit, you’re the single most obstinate, stubborn, pigheaded woman I’ve ever had the *pleasure* to butt heads with. So, I’m not buying any of this crap, Marlena! Knock off the damsel-in-distress act! What would Belle think? Huh? You want me to have to tell our daughter how you just gave up? How you didn’t have the courage to fight back? That what you want, Doc? You want me to tell her how you decided it just wasn’t important enough to get back home to her?” He grits his teeth and grimaces in defeat.
“Dammit, *you* can beat this. You don’t need me to help you! Remember? You’re the independent lady shrink who hates to be coddled, or patronized, or… god forbid *pestered*. Remember that, honey?” he asks, laughing through his tears, “Remember when you called me a pest? Damn, how you drove me crazy back then! Just like you still do… so, I’m gonna keep pestering you until you come back to me! Come on, come on… I *know* that stubborn, belligerent, *ornery* woman is in there!”
Stefano rolls his eyes, and grumbles at John’s pitiful attempt to rouse Marlena. The sight is all but making him physically ill. Here he had been told John was finally *dead* and now not only did he have to see with his own eyes how horribly untrue that was but also to have to suffer inane blubbering from the man was worse than getting thrown from a balcony by the devil himself.
Dismayed that his cheap attempts to anger her out of her slumber is failing, John resorts to letting his heart speak for him.
“Okay, okay,” he starts, taming his voice, absently caressing her face with his hand and trailing it through her hair. “I know how tired you are. I don’t blame you for wanting to rest, but Doc, listen… I just can’t let you do that. Not yet. It’s not time, baby… please, I have so much to make up for. I’m begging you to stay. I am NOT going to allow you to leave me now! I won’t!”
Framing her mouth with his hand, he gives her placid, Cupid’s bow lips a dire kiss and cries, “I just can’t Marlena… not after making love to you again! Having you that close and hearing you tell me you love me….”
Those last words dripping out of John’s mouth were the last straw for Stefano. They were like a million daggers to the heart, ripping and shredding and mutilating. He’s barely able to restrain his anger, or the bile rising inside him upon hearing that Marlena had *been* with John again… making love together somewhere out in that forest like animals. That they’d finally *reunited* after he’d worked so hard to prevent that from *ever* happening.
With a look of utter disgust and fury on his suddenly fire-red moon-face, Stefano laboriously rises to his feet, wipes the mantle of sweat from his brow and glares at his employee with the gun, and flatly says, “Get him away from her. Now.”
It was all he could do not to reach down and strangle John with his own bare and zealous hands.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then get rid of him. I don’t want to ever see his face again, understood?”
Nodding his compliance, the man turns the gun around in his hand.
Cradling Marlena’s head between his two hands, John isn’t capable of hearing anything but the weak breaths emanating from her mouth. He hasn’t heard Stefano’s words. She was alive, and that was all that mattered… all that meant anything at the moment. He closes his eyes and slowly his lips dovetail gently upon her forehead, suddenly flooded with a stream of ambrosial memories of their life together.
Drowning so completely and blissfully in the torrent of reminiscences in sight, sound and sensation of Marlena, John almost fails to feel her reach up and weakly clasp her hands to his head. And then when, sotto voce, she tells him, “Don’t worry my love, I’m not going to leave you… not ever.”
Before he even has a chance to register the fact that she’s awake, the feel of her skin on his lips is the *last* and most perfect thing he feels when, with great force, the sharp butt of the gun fractures the connection. It rips him from the momentary peace of a world where there once was the greatest of happiness for them. His body slowly falls backward… his fingertips sliding languidly across her skin, unconsciously savoring every last second of the bond between them.
Now cognizant, and unlike before, Marlena ‘s *feeling* everything… all of it coming at her in sensory overload. Waking up in John’s almost suffocating embrace. Welcoming the crush of his strength, feeling the intensity of his breathing and heartbeat against her frail body… hearing his desperate pleas. But then the *unwelcome* dread and dismay when he goes lifeless and is cruelly taken away.
“John… no, don’t go,” she cries as she feels the cold emptiness of his absence fill her.
Stefano quickly gathers Marlena up in his arms the instant she’s been freed from John’s embrace and rushes into the estate. The instant she feels new hands on her – *Stefano’s* cold, heartless arms enfolding her, whatever healing power John had somehow outfitted her with was gone and searing pain begins to erode it and violate her. But also, she feels the rage within begin to work its way free of her weakened state.
A rush of adrenaline propels Stefano as he shudders with the realization of having her back alive… what he’d hoped against hope of having after such a long, harrowing time worrying about her fate. He shakes his head, thinking of how close he’d come to letting John destroy everything again. Almost permitting John to win the ultimate battle. He suddenly laughs deeply to think of his state of mind as John held the gun on him. Ridiculous that it could have ended then. Not in a million years would the Phoenix be destroyed. Defeated. Whatever had happened to get him out of this one was the same majestic twist of fate that had always given him the power to rise from the ashes again and again.
And *again*….
A pair of beaten up, mud-coated black boots are carving parallel trenches into the soggy ground. When they stop their short journey away from Stefano’s estate, the body filling them stirs and groans, but remains unconscious. Blue light from the moon filters down from the heavens through the thick roof of green painting everything it illuminates with an eerie glow.
Wanting to get his job finished before his victim wakes, the guard intending to kill John just moments ago, prepares quickly to follow through with his grisly task.
Stefano groans and puffs out exhausted breaths, watching Marlena’s wildly staring eyes slowly disappear behind eyelids dropping down like scene ending curtains. She slowly and elegantly slips out of his arms onto the doctor’s table; her fingernails withdraw from his flesh leaving streaks of blood across his neck where she was trying to strangle him.
The doctor tosses her empty syringe into the trash, then suggests Stefano leave so she can attend to her sedated and bleeding patient. He nods, ignoring her scornful eyes, reluctantly backing away as she then turns, and begins gently but swiftly cutting Marlena’s tattered, blood-soaked gown away from her battered body. He leans heavily against the doorframe trying to catch his breath as he runs his big paws over the fleshy meat of his chest where she’d ripped away his shirt and beat him until she nearly passed out.
How he admired her dauntless, fighting spirit. Yet, as he feels the absence of her furious grip on him now, he knows it isn’t just admiration he feels for Marlena. He wasn’t sure he understood the overwhelming aphrodisiac her desire to escape from him was… and to an extent he hated how it controlled him, but it was as strong as any emotion that had ever threatened to overpower him before and he was hell bent on conquering her passion.
As he looks at her pale, deathly countenance under the stark florescent light of the doctor’s small hut he has a fleeting moment of guilt stir inside him. He wonders if he should have allowed her to recuperate completely before taking her for his own this final time. But then, without much transition, his mind relieves him of the burdensome liability and eases into assigning blame to its rightful owner.
John Black. If it weren’t for that man she would be on her way to a full recovery right now instead of on the brink of death.
As he walks outside, his body and mind begin to churn with anger. He closes his eyes and pictures in his mind what must have happened by now, if not right at this exact moment… John’s body jerking at the entrance into his body of a single fatal bullet.
It was a bittersweet thought, but the *bitterness* was eminently justified so it left a mostly *sweet* afterthought.
Just as a satisfied grin rolls out across his grim face, he jumps with surprise as his cell phone rings. Subsiding against the outside wall of the hut, he opens the small instrument and listens carefully to the static-filled message.
Inside his head, John’s far from realizing he’s on the verge of imminent death. Once again his unconscious mind is with Marlena… *remembering*… reaching out. Wiping away tears, of sadness and joy.
Her beautiful face… to touch and caress her beautiful face.
As though he’s viewing her through a kaleidoscope, a hundred different Marlena’s from their capricious life together flicker across his mind’s eye. And in each vision he’s touching her face. Feeling her skin beneath the callused pads of his fingertips, so incredibly soft. His palm surrounding the sweet curve of her jaw, and each time he touches her, those heavenly, honey colored eyes are looking at him with such naked devotion it overwhelms him and he has to remember to breathe.
Then his mind recalls perfectly as if it were happening again, a moment of impossible intimacy they’d shared during their fleeting reunion in this hellish paradise. As he relives it, a mixture of enthralled pleasure and anguish plays across his face. His body twitches and shivers as he remembers hearing and feeling her hushed voice, full of breathless emotion, as she slowly lowers her naked torso back down upon his chest and whispers the words into his ear just seconds after an especially intense and explosive conclusion to their lovemaking. Enraptured, he’s listening to her earthy, uncontrolled cries echoing wild and free through the immensity of the moonlit jungle one moment and the next feeling her face against the side of his, her quickened breaths hot and pounding into his ear, paralyzing him.
As their sweat soaked bodies cling to each other, he absorbs each word intently. Above the sound of his savagely beating heart she breathes deeply into his ear, “You’re *so* wonderful.”
“Oh God,” he moans, weakened by the emotions and sensations she’s stirred in him.
“John, it’s painful how you are so much the other half of me… please, don’t ever let me go.”
Then suddenly, like a stab in the dark, the feel and sound of her sultry plea is gone. He tries desperately to find her face in the darkness, to bring her back, but the visions of her dulcet face vanish swiftly. And in his dreams he feels the desperate emptiness of his failure once again.
He *had* let her go… she was *gone*.
Standing above John, the guard is catching his breath, and hurriedly loading bullets into his gun. Then suddenly, just as he’s about to close the chamber, he jumps back when John’s arm slams against his leg and the gun slips out of his sweaty palm. He looks down and sees a mumbling, battered John – his arm stabbing upward with trembling fingers reaching and groping the air. Frightened that he may be coming around, he bends and quickly retrieves the gun, but when he finds the bullets have spilled out he drops to his knees and fingers the ground to find them.
With a stomach unable to tolerate any more alcohol, Kristen DiMera has abandoned the wealth of fine wine she’s collected in her room and decides to look for Stefano… if only just to see another human being before she feels she’ll go completely mad. She wanders throughout the dark dank halls of the estate, losing her way several times, never spotting a single soul until she finds her way into a bedroom full of exquisite artwork. She finds herself mesmerized by the paintings hanging in gold frames so brilliant they make her feel dizzy.
She drifts over to one that hangs on the wall across the room. She stands staring at it for minutes until the colors that make up the dancer’s skin begin to separate and come to life. Alive… and moving. She watches the colors in the painting swirl in a maddening vortex until they become a chimera of John and Marlena dancing together so close they appear to be one being. She hears John’s voice over and over telling Marlena that he loves her and has always loved her… and that he has *never* loved Kristen.
Never… has *never* loved her.
She absorbs his stinging words into her until they become a part of her.
Soon she finds herself grabbing her head in her hands and screaming from the pain exploding inside.
“I can’t hear YOU. I can’t HEAR you! I CAN’T hear you!” She cries over and over.
Spinning around she runs to the bed, pouncing on it. She hammers her fists into the mattress until she uses every ounce of energy she has left. Then after calming down she laggardly sits up, her wild, faded blond hair covering bleary eyes as she looks over at the large desk lining the wall.
Sitting in an elegant frame is the face of the woman John *loved*… loves. Has always loved. Always, always, always… While he was *loving* — making *love* to ME! she screams inside her head.
Before taking another breath she’s across the room and has picked the photo up with rigid hands. After studying the picture for several moments of silence she begins screaming and cursing at the face protected beneath the sheath of glass. But it only mocks her with never changing beauty and grace… never answering her brutal accusations. Daring to survive her attack, always winning, and getting what she wants… what she has no right to anymore!
It’s after this furious outburst she sees an object lying on top of a small black leather book which has the word *Bible* embossed in gold leaf on it’s cover. She then drops the framed picture with a crash upon the desk and immediately picks up the shiny sleek silver letter opener. She holds it in her fist until the weak desire to plunge it into her stomach fades quickly and she drives it into the rich wood of the desktop right next to the photograph. She watches as it totters for a moment, then becomes as still as the damning eyes of Marlena staring up at her.
“You took everything from me! I won’t let you take my *life*, too,” she vows with a cracked smile that seeps across her pallid, gruesome face. She knows she never would have killed herself, but impersonating a tragic heroine is justification enough for her harsh words.
After the spell of madness, when her head suddenly feels cleansed of the remains of alcohol and dementia, Kristen realizes the room she’s in is a fortress intended for the ever coveted *Marlena*. Everything becomes clear in her mind as she opens the drawers and finds curious folders and photographs and documents that she just knows will give her a reason to live again.
So, she scoops them up into her arms and wanders slowly back to her room to peruse them with the time she feels she has endless amounts of now that there’s no point to having it anymore.
Marlena unconsciously clutches the sides of the table she’s lying on as she somehow registers the feel of the doctor sewing up the wound in her middle. Suddenly she’s pulled into the reverie of John’s fingertips gently caressing that same spot. The place on her body where his fiancée had plunged the broken shard, fully intending it to cause death.
She remembers his tears anointing the tender area, and his lips delicately weaving a healing circle around it as she holds his head, trying to persuade him she’ll be all right. His touch is shooting goose bumps across her skin and arousing her instantly. She tells him she just wants to *forget*. All she wants is to spin a web around him, to have him inside her, as deeply as possible… filling her completely. Body and soul. To be threaded together, to breathe his breath, to weave her skin into his, to have her blood flowing through his heart, and to touch his soul again after so much pain and so much time without him… to be whole again.
So when he looks up into her eyes with adoration and desire she smiles freely, then loses herself completely in his passion as he obliges her… treating her skin like rare and precious porcelain. Reminding her why it was absurd to try to forget or to deny how much he was the other half of her.
With rage bursting in his eyes, after hearing that a helicopter commanded by Abe Carver was approaching, Stefano blasts back into the hut and announces to the doctor through fiercely clenched teeth that she was to have Marlena ready to be moved in very short order.
“But, Mr. DiMera….”
“No,” he shouts, aiming a finger at her, punctuating each word with a jab at her through the air, “no, *buts* Doctor! I want her prepared to travel! She will be ready when I come for her!”
The doctor grits her teeth and looks down at Marlena, “Yes… she *will* be ready when you come,” she emits with resigned fatigue, refusing to look at him again.
“Good,” he says turning, being careful to not look down at Marlena. He knows he can’t bear to see her again under the lights with the repulsive sight of blood and creamy skin turned black and blue, defiling her beauty.
The guard quickly reloads each bullet as he finds them, while keeping his eye on his target’s every move. Still groping the air, John begins muttering as his aching mind surrenders to another tormenting vision… a dream that he won’t be suffering alone.
“Mommy! Mommy!”
Caged in darkness, John’s not sure where he is, and then he sees the beautiful wisp of a girl escape from the murky void and run into her mother’s welcoming arms. He walks up from behind them and feels staggering joy as he wraps his arms around their familiar and consoling frames. He has to catch his breath, as he closes his eyes and soaks in the warmth and sweet smell of the two beautiful creatures he has secured. Slowly he rocks them back and forth feeling untold peace and happiness to finally be holding Belle and Marlena, safe and sound.
As the diligent, steady hands of the doctor work quickly over her, Marlena also submits to a dream… one that at first makes her still, ashen face flutter and she coos almost silently. The doctor stops stitching for a moment when the sound disrupts her concentration. She raises her eyes to see her patient’s mouth sashay into a serene smile.
“Daddy! Daddy!”
Marlena’s hand flies up to her mouth as a gleeful gasp of air escapes her mouth. Her glistening hazel eyes pursue with rapture the sight of the small bud of a girl as she runs from the shadows and is quickly scooped up into her father’s arms. Her heart pounds with intense satisfaction as the sound of John’s deep and boisterous voice floods her senses.
“Hey, baby girl… there’s my beautiful Belle!”
She moves swiftly forward and fiercely steals her arms around them tightly. Feeling the warmth of their love rush into her instantly banishing the emptiness and cold that had for so long possessed her; she closes her eyes and basks in the euphoria. She clings to them like a lifeline… breathing as they breathe, matching heartbeat for heartbeat. ‘Oh my,’ she thinks, ‘how you both complete me.’
Then slowly as she raises her eyelids to look at their gorgeous faces, the warm light surrounding them intensifies to a ghostly blueness and the cold returns to her in the flash of his noxious eyes.
“No! No… you’re…. Where’s *John*? Where *is* he?” She cries, as she repels back, feeling like she’s just been stabbed again. Then as her confusion and distraught grip her completely, she lunges forward at the realization of just who is holding her tiny, defenseless daughter. Her voice drops into a deep and slow growl as her eyes narrow upon Stefano.
“Give her to me, Stefano… give me my daughter,” she demands, reaching through the menacing light to grab Belle, whose eyes stare pleadingly to her.
“Marlena,” Stefano tries to calm her. “You and I will begin our *own* family, and Belle would only feel left out and abandoned by the rest of her family, her *father* – those people who she has come to depend on while you’ve been….”
“Shut up, Stefano! Just give her to me NOW! I won’t listen to this insanity! Stop playing god with my life!” she exhorts, working her hands around Belle’s middle as the child tries to reach her tiny hands around her mother’s neck.
“Momma…”
“It’s okay, shhhh… it’s *alright* baby girl,” Marlena hushes her, feeling like she will collapse if Belle isn’t in her arms before she takes her next breath.
She sighs with relief as soon as she thinks she’s gotten a good hold on Belle, but then Stefano turns, yanking the child out of her grip. She instantly crumbles to her knees and emits an immortal scream when it feels like her heart has been ripped out.
Then suddenly, powerful hands have lifted her from the ground, shaking her from her grief. She opens eyes soaked in tears and looks with anger and bewilderment at Stefano as he turns her to face Belle.
“You see, my dear Marlena,” he says softly, his voice threaded with cloaked evil, “Belle will be just fine. She’s going *home* to be with everyone she loves. She’s in loving hands, wouldn’t you say?”
Marlena’s paralyzed with panic and terror as she watches helplessly as Belle’s small form begins to disappear into the blackness surrounding them. She turns to Stefano with feral, shock-filled eyes and shakes her head back and forth in denial of what he has done, because what she saw was her worst nightmare – Kristen DiMera, with a diabolic smile soiling her face, walking away with an eerily pacified Belle secured in her evil clutches.
Air gets trapped in Marlena’s throat and she fights for another breath when she sees Belle lift her tiny hand and wave her delicate fingers in a final gesture to her mother as she fades from view. She feels herself collapse and then begins sobbing as Stefano suffocates her against his graceless frame, stroking her hair as she feels herself slowly dying.
“It’s alright my dear… she’s going *home*, to her father, her *family*. And *you* will soon forget the pain you’re feeling now.”
As every muscle in her body tightens at the sound of his voice, her fists clench and she slowly begins to pound them against Stefano’s hollow heart as she cries out for help.
“No I won’t! I won’t *ever* forget! John… JOHN!”
John reaches to caress Belle and Marlena’s heads, wanting to feel the warmth and softness of their golden tresses on his hands, he backs away in shock and confusion when he opens his eyes to see them. The hair his hand is stroking belongs to a woman he had hoped to never see again, much less touch.
“Kristen?” he murmurs in shocked disbelief, shaking his head. “I thought… Marlena? Doc? Where’s Marlena!”
His heart quickly begins pounding at a deafening pace as he feels the coldness invade him at her touch. Frantically, he looks around to find Marlena.
Where did she go… where are you? Doc?
“Hello, Darling,” Kristen purrs, reaching up and sliding her hand across his jaw tenderly. “I’ve missed you, haven’t I Belle?”
John quickly grabs her wrist, throws her arm down, and reaches to remove Belle from her clutches. The sight of Belle so comfortable in her arms makes him feel nauseous and unsteady on his feet. “This isn’t right… this isn’t *right*! Give me my daughter! MARLENA!”
Kristen turns her back to him promptly so he can’t get a hold of Belle and she begins to tickle the little girl’s ribs, who’s ensuing giggles make him want to scream as panic sets in. “No, John, this is *very* right,” she cranes her neck to say to him. “Remember, you promised we would be a family? I would never be without you, remember?”
“NO! *Everything’s* changed! EVERYTHING!” John shouts in protest as he reaches around her and again tries to secure Belle before it’s too late. As his hands fight impossibly to grab a hold of his daughter a malicious laughter funnels through the darkness and before he can do anything Kristen is handing Belle to Stefano.
“What are you *doing*?” he demands through clenched teeth, as she blocks him from getting near the large man who’s holding Belle and patting her gently on the back. He begins to growl in frustration as he realizes that all his strength proves impotent against what’s happening. No amount of struggle against Kristen seems to affect her.
“We don’t need Belle now do we? After all, John… she should be with her mother and the man *she’s* with now, am I right?”
“No… I mean, *of course*, but NO! Give me my daughter, Stefano! I’ll take her to Marlena when I find her,” he says continuing to feel desperate that she’s nowhere to *be* found. “I said, *give me my daughter* NOW, goddamn you, you son of a…!”
“What’s the problem, John? Belle’s never really been a priority to you before… I mean, come on,” Stefano says snidely, “… have you ever bothered to make her legally *yours*?”
John grits his teeth, infuriated.
“I didn’t think so,” Stefano quips, giving John a quick wry grin, then lowers his eyes to the little girl who is poking her finger into his fleshy cheek. “Come now, Belle,” Stefano says sweetly, tapping his large index finger gently upon Belle’s tiny button nose. “Do you want to go see your beautiful Mother?” Belle stiffens excitedly and shakes her head as they turn away and disappear through the curtain of darkness.
“No, Belle! God, noooo… ” John screams as he keeps slamming into the unyielding, sharp body of Kristen.
“You don’t need her, John. She’s the product of, well… an *illicit* affair that destroyed so many lives. It’s better that she’s gone. I’m sorry, honey, but it’s true,” she says, caressing his cheek with her cold fingertips. “It’s *true*…. She’d be a painful reminder of just how many lives her existence tore apart. We need a fresh start without those kinds of *reminders*”
“Shut up!” John’s red face flares in her direction, his thunderous voice full of rage. “You don’t know *anything* about it! You couldn’t *begin* to know! She’s my *daughter*, and I LOVE her! And I won’t let you or your evil father take her!”
Not even flinching at his fury, Kristen continues her one-way delusional dialogue, “Now we can get married and begin that wonderful life you promised me. I love you so much!”
“Shut up! I said shut the hell up!” he bellows, quickly cutting her off as he turns away from her infuriating lovelorn gaze to search the dark emptiness that seems to be closing in on them. He has to find her… before he loses her forever. He stretches his arm into the thick black void… to touch her face and keep her safe….
“Momma! Daddy!”
Caroline Brady, dressed in a well worn flannel nightgown, quickly shuffles through the darkened hallway making her way to the cries coming from the room where Belle has been sleeping since both her parents disappeared. She’s made this trek more times than she cares to remember.
Shawn had nudged her out of a deep, exhaustive sleep and she’d found her robe and slippers in the dark easily and in no time flat found her way to the little girl sitting up in bed crying, her arms strangling her Big Bunny.
She tucks Belle immediately into her arms and rocks her, plying her with calming pats and strokes to her shaking little body. How she ached for the small girl who despite blood *was* her granddaughter, and who nightly now was waking and obviously feeling the loss of her parents more and more with each passing day; and how she wished she had something to tell her that would give her comfort. But she doesn’t know exactly what has happened to Marlena or John, and all she can tell Belle is what she knows for sure. Her mother and father love her. And that isn’t enough to help Belle, or Brady, right now.
“What is it darling?” she asks several times, but Belle can’t catch her breath enough to say a word. She coughs and gasps as she tries to calm herself down. Caroline’s heart breaks at the sight of the little girl’s tear streaked, frightened angelic face, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Did you have a bad dream, hmm? Is that why you’re crying, sweetheart? You tell Grandma what made you so scared, okay?” she whispers gently into Belle’s ear. She waits, smoothing out Belle’s sweaty blonde bangs, and watches as Belle nods her head and sucks in breaths that are finally evening out.
“Good… now you tell me about it. What scared you so much?” Caroline hums, hoping what she describes will simply be about a benign hairy monster… something she can easily reassure Belle that they don’t exist.
Rubbing her reddened blue eyes, with a wobbly, stuffy nosed voice, Belle whispers, “Dare was a monstew…. “
Caroline sighs with relief.
“…. And he tooked Mommy way from me, and Daddy couldn’t catch me. I falled and falled, Gamma. Dat monstew ate Mommy I fink.”
“Nooo, Belle honey,” Caroline looks positively in her eyes, while thinking to herself how apt of Belle’s dream to be describing Stefano as a monster. “You only had a dream. Mommy’s fine. Don’t you worry. Remember, Belle what I told you about dreams? Remember I told you about when your big sister Sami slept in this room sometimes when she was little like you… and *she* had bad dreams too? Everyone has bad dreams and they aren’t real, and you know that don’t you?”
She cups Belle’s soggy cheek in her palm, waiting for an answer that will allow them both to go back to sleep. She knows Belle’s dream is reflecting her hidden fears, and what Caroline knows could be the truth but doesn’t want to believe… that it could be a long time, a very long time, before her parents come home. She just didn’t know. She fights back tears, not wanting to give Belle even a hint of what really happened to Marlena… and John.
With slightly doubtful, doleful eyes, Belle looks at Caroline and shakes her head, “I know. Dat monstew isn’t wheel.”
“No, he’s not… not real at all. Now, you lay back down, and close your beautiful eyes and don’t think about that dream, and you won’t have another one okay?”
Belle sinks down under her quilt and clutches Big Bunny to her chest as Caroline tucks her in. As she leans down finally to kiss her head, Belle asks, “Why did day go away wiffout saying bye to me, Gamma? I miss dem.”
Caroline smiles softheartedly and finishes her goodnight kiss. “I know you do, darling. I do too. But we’ll see them soon I’m sure, won’t we?”
Belle closes her eyes, not answering. She whispers, “I love you Gamma,” as she floats back to sleep. Even in her limited understanding, she knows sometimes there are no answers.
“I love you too, Sweetheart,” Caroline whispers back, standing thoughtfully above her, marveling at how quickly she went from terrified to peacefully sleeping. What a beautiful child she is, she thinks, remembering when her own girls were small and innocent like that. She bends and traces her hand gently across Belle’s soft cheek and almost silently asserts, “We’ll see them again, soon… we will.”
She turns, leaving the room hoping that when she looks in on Brady he’ll be sound asleep.
When Stefano steps silently into the hut, he inhales satisfyingly, discharging the exhausted doctor with a contented smile and a wave of his hand.
“You may go now. I’ve arranged for your immediate departure. Kahu will take you to the airstrip with the others now. I don’t want any of you here when our *visitors* arrive soon,” he says, turning away from her as she begins to walk past him, having wanted to remove herself from his presence immediately upon his arrival. She stops cold when she hears his voice again. “And you do of course realize, as always, that your discretion is *required*. I don’t think I have to stress how important that is, do I?”
Without either turning to look at the other, she clears her throat, and says in a glacial voice, “Of course not… as always, Mr. DiMera.” She walks out the door, then turns back around. “Oh, and that satchel next to her? That has the antibiotics she *must* continue to take. And of course, sedatives,” she adds curtly before exiting the hut.
Stefano smiles again, then nods silently before bending down to kiss Marlena’s flushed cheek. He’s glad she’s still unconscious.
“I’m sorry my darling, but we cannot stay here like I had dreamed,” he whispers to her solemnly, caressing her face. “But perhaps we will return some day soon, yes?”
Since he saw her last, he’s certain he’s secured everything he needs, though he regrets with bitter anger that, besides leaving Kristen, there were things he was leaving behind that he never meant to be found… but really, they no longer mattered. It was done. They were coming, and anyway, John was dead. What was imperative was getting Marlena as far away from here as quickly as possible… safely and securely. With him, forever. ‘Before that damnable Abe Carver arrives,’ he thinks with loathing, still infuriated that somehow he’d been found.
Looking at his watch, he shakes off the thoughts that plague his anxiety-ridden mind, and he looks down at Marlena as he readies to carry her away.
He notices her eyes, covered by shaded lids, are moving frantically and her hands are slightly curling in and out of tight fists.
“It’s all right my love, soon you’ll be safe and well.”
As he slips his hands beneath her unconscious body to lift her, he stops cold and the blood drains from his face when Marlena’s eyes slam open and she cries out, bolting from her dreams and the drugs that kept her numb.
“JOHN!”
She screams his name over and over as she starts to pound her fists into Stefano’s chest, bringing her dream into reality. ‘When will this end?’ she wonders as she watches his eyes fill with resolve and his arms overpower her, lifting her and sweeping her away. Then she remembers she had resolve of her own, and she recalls the vow she made to herself at the very beginning of this nightmare. She would NOT spend the rest of her life away from her family, and the only way Stefano would have her was *dead*.
With his eyes squinting in the hazy moonlight, the guard inserts the last bullet into the gun. As he readies it to aim at his grunting victim lying unconscious, he pauses, closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He utters under his breath the one sentence prayer he always says – knowing it will not save his soul.
As he extends his arms blindly toward John, the burst of thunderous sound that suddenly breaches the thick quiet of the night sends his eyes flying open.
“Marlena!” John erupts from his dream in burst of emotion, drowning in the fear it sent through him.
Gasping for air and searching for light, John sits up immediately. With no time to get his bearings, and his whole being centered on finding Marlena, he’s thrown directly into a deadly reality… coming face to face with a gun and wildly unmerciful eyes aiming steadily at him.
‘Oh God, not again,’ his mind reels in agony as he sees big filthy fingers begin to press down on the trigger. ‘No, this can’t be happening… Doc.’
Releasing a captive breath warily, he knows instantly that there’s not a chance in hell of getting out of this all too real nightmare. He knows he’s used up all his lives, luck and prayers, but with a flash of mutinous blue eyes, his body does what instinct demands, and he begins to rollover in an attempt to dodge the unavoidable bullet. When he hears the unbearably loud explosion of the weapon his hands slam down over his ears, and he yells out, then freezes and waits for darkness to swallow him up. But instead of feeling the blind numbness of death he receives the weight of something very heavy fall on him.
Paralyzed in confusion and fear with his head buried under the mass of the guard’s body, he thinks he hears the brief, strange sound of muffled laughter, then he feels footsteps around his body and head. Remaining motionless, someone nudges him and pulls the guard’s arm out from where it was trapped between them. Trying not to breathe, John feels the hot metal of the gun scraping across his bare stomach and then the empty hand once holding it flop down.
‘Who the hell is it?’ he wonders, afraid to move enough to look and see. Then as soon as he feels the presence disappear he promptly flings the body off him.
“Hey! Hey, you! Who are you?” he hollers out, but there isn’t even a distant sound of rustling leaves to answer his question.
He unsteadily crouches over the guard’s body and sees blood dripping a trail across the man’s face. Quickly asserting that he isn’t dead, John fully realizes what’s just happened. Somehow, *someone* had saved his life. And whoever it was didn’t want to stick around for a thank you and a handshake.
“John, you are one lucky bastard,” he says exhaustedly, sweeping the sweat yet again from his furrowed brow, and rubbing his hand over the huge lump on his head. “Dear god, let me get it right this time.”
John kicks at the tangled ground surrounding the unconscious guard. Sweat flies from his skin and flailing limbs. His tattered boots angrily spit up chunks of dirt and vegetation, frantic to find the man’s gun. He was going to need it to kill DiMera for putting his filthy, fucking hands on Marlena and taking her from his arms *again*. Shaking his dripping mane of matted, dirt-infested hair, he stops, staggers and buries his face in blood-crusted hands when the memory of her last touch on his face gets stuck in his mind… she isn’t dead. She can’t be.
“I’m so sorry, Doc. Damn… damn it all,” he huffs bitterly before bending in half and spitting angrily into the dirt. His stomach roils with the pure fear that he’ll never see her again and utter self-loathing that his failure may have cost her everything — finally.
‘Why didn’t you let me do it, Marlena? Why?’
God! If only she’d let me do what I needed to do for once! Always have to do things your way, right Doc? She could have been free! And because she loved him, and was stubbornly always willing to sacrifice everything for him, she was suffering again…. Jesus, what had he expected? It was a lousy plan – he knew her so well!
Giving one last hard ram of his foot into the beaten earth, he loses his balance and falls, the lacerated, tired muscles of his back screaming as they meet and are punished by the butchered ground.
He swears remembering the bastard dropping the gun down on him when he fell. His exhausted mind tries to piece together what happened only minutes ago, but it quickly becomes a riddle of scattered images and sounds that make no sense. One second preparing to greet the blinding heat of a bullet, the next feeling himself drowning beneath the huge weight of the guard’s body as it suddenly dropped to earth. He doesn’t understand why he’s still alive.
Someone’s out there. *They* have the gun. He knows he doesn’t have time to think about it anymore. *She’s* out there. *She* has nobody, and nothing to protect herself. Scrambling to his feet he looks down at the body and forces himself to turn around instead of taking a single step forward and crushing the man’s exposed neck with an expeditious twist of his boot. There wasn’t even time for small favors.
Her hands delight in the feel of the wrathful, strained flesh she’s caught between them. Through her thumbs pressed deeply into Stefano’s neck, she feels the vibrations of his thunderous voice roaring for her to stop. His fierce protests fueling her desire to continue until the torture of his existence ends once and for all.
The pain that has been smothered by the drugs given to her suddenly sprouts from the center of her body, and for a moment the steady throttle she has on Stefano’s neck slackens. He grunts and roars; taking the opportunity to grab her arms quickly and begins to tear her away with burly fingers. She fights back, using every ounce of energy she can rally to keep her grip on the wild-eyed beast sputtering above her. Wanting desperately to feel his last wretched breath upon her face, her hands plead with him to give up, but she feels herself stretched to the limit as his might takes hold… then she makes the mistake of remembering she’s only human.
She takes a deep breath and just as she feels her body abandon the fight, the sound of Belle’s laughter comes from out of nowhere inside her and it jolts her. Electrifies her. Then images – smiling happy images — of all her children… and then a touch. She feels the sweet healing touch of John’s fingers on her face – caressing away the pain and it blocks out the view of the monster before her. And just as quickly they’re *gone*.
“No!” she screams. Then from someplace within her, wherever it was that she stored every bit of hatred she’s ever felt for him, she erupts with mammoth strength. Looking into his bulging black eyes, she begins to lose herself to an uncontrollable, almost divine force driving her to kill the man blustering inches from her face.
‘I’ll kill you so help me God – I’ll take your life for his! For taking him from me!’
So out of control is the force surging through her limbs that when she sees out of the corner of her eye, a shadowy figure looming, she’s helpless to react or move at all. And she knows that this failure will surely mean once again she’ll be at his mercy. Lost forever.
“God, save me! Save me! John!” she cries out helplessly as she watches Stefano’s face suddenly turn from a grimacing beet-red to a gleeful, normal shade and she feels her hands fall and her body collapse against his chest. The gloom of despair steals quietly inside her as she slips into unconsciousness.
Susan hugs the nun awkwardly while holding the tiny baby securely against her chest. With few words between them, they both feel the strong bond that’s gotten them to this place. In the airport. Jeri gently pinches the homely woman’s cheek and leans in to cheerfully whisper, “I feel good things heading your way… but you have my number. You’re sure this is okay with your aunt?”
“Oh yes, she’s very excited to see us.”
“Good!” She winks and hands Susan her airplane ticket — one seat in first class. Then distractedly wonders where her friend got the peculiar purple crocheted skull cap she was wearing.
The grateful new mother looks at the ticket with amazement. “Please, thank everyone that pitched in for this. I don’t know what I’d have done….”
“Shh, now,” the nun hushes her, giving Susan a slight push to hand her ticket to the attendant. “They’re all going to miss you and that sweet baby. You’re lucky they didn’t make you stay forever,” she teases.
Susan lets out a strange snort and again leans over to hug her benefactor. “You’re so funny. I’m gonna miss you!” She shouts as she backs into the chattering group of passengers. Jeri can see tears sliding down Susan’s face as she hands over her ticket and quickly prays the Lord to watch over the most trouble she’s come across since her time in country as an army nurse at Chu Lai.
The sleeping jungle awakens ferociously to a roaring blast that cuts across its canopied roof. John ducks, and crouches instinctively, his head snapping up to search for the source of the threat. He immediately recognizes the jet that brought them here as it violently storms into the cloudless pre-dawn sky.
He curses, fear tearing into him at the thought that the loud beast ripping through the sky could be stealing away the woman he failed to save. He drops his head and listens as the jet engine’s last echoes drift to his ears. After long moments of breathless, anxious repose, he stands and a bright, relieved smile enters from behind the curtain of beard shrouding his face.
“She’s still here,” he sighs heavily, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath.
“But where? Where are you, Doc? Dear God, what’s he doing to you now?” He slams his eyes shut and bends backwards. Raw muscles loosen painfully as he stretches out his lanky frame, twisting and turning until he feels joints crack blissfully. When he opens his eyes, he’s jerked wide awake with the fierce internal knowledge of Marlena’s presence growing even stronger and he turns toward her. Gritting his teeth, filling his lungs with the dense, fertile jungle air and feeling the stranglehold of time whipping at his back, John thrusts his spent body forward with exquisite speed.
She flops violently like a dying fish in the bottom of a boat, her limbs snared in an eddy of bed sheets and scattered papers. In the midst of a fitful sleep, Kristen gasps for air as she mutters incoherently of her torments and torturers. Her hands are cemented into fists that flounder madly and wallop down to crush her enemies. The furious flickering of ruddy light spawning from the various candles congregated across the stifling room create shadows that chase each other in a whirlpool across every surface and object.
Kristen’s oblivious to the dithering storm of light she’s swimming in; though uneasy, her sleep is hermetic – a reward for a night of whorish drinking and wanton self pity. She’d spent the lonely, quiet hours of twilight sitting slouched against the headboard of her bed shuffling heedlessly through the folders she’d appropriated from Stefano’s room. Nobody hearing her bouts of cackling laughter, shocked gasps, or irate diatribes as she scanned the assorted documents. When she was finished, she’d simply grunted out in disgust at the twisted machinations of Stefano and his sick obsession with these people.
Slumping down into the pillows supporting her, she’d decided that she pitied him more than anything and wouldn’t care if she ever saw him again. She decided she was just another of his many victims; one of his possessions. And thought if she did see him again she might scratch his eyes out for all he’d taken from her. Her parents. Her brother. John. Roman. Marlena. The Bradys. Her baby. Her life. Her soul. Given and taken away. Given and ripped away. Suddenly she’d tilted her head and considered that she was having some moments of clarity and it frightened her to realize it probably wouldn’t last.
So, as her body had drawn her further toward sleep, she attacked the piles of papers surrounding her, searching for the photo she’d found in one of the folders earlier that mesmerized her. When she located it, she smiled and tucked it securely in her palm, then coiled herself tightly into a ball under a portion of the cool sheets. Preparing to welcome slumber, and escape the drunken fog, she held the worn photo close to her face, staring. Then with her long pinky fingernail she traced the sweet face of the child captured there and embraced the strange bond she felt between them, confused by the curious fact she didn’t feel hatred as she beheld it. Something, an odd symbiosis touched her when she looked into the sad eyes. Lost souls, abandoned forever. Like her. Like her baby. “Like *you*, poor sweet young thing… poor boy.” She slowly brought the colorless photo to her lips and planted a desolate kiss on the glossy paper embedded with cracks.
“Good night. Sweet dreams,” her ragged voice whispered, and she closed her lugubrious green eyes. Mere moments later she was drowning in a dark sea of madness and nightmares as she began her night of convulsive sleep. As her body fought the demons attacking her, she cast away the photo and crushed it unknowingly beneath her restless form.
Never waking, never hearing the rumble of the jet that swept over her seconds ago, or the booming thunderstorm trembling through the walls surrounding her, Kristen pitches to–and–fro in a torpor of blissful agony.
Hot sweat scrolls steadily down John’s battered flesh as he makes his way to Stefano’s sanctum of evil. Stealthily making his way onto the shadowy property, he finds passage easy. Much too easy. Eerily easy. Nobody is guarding the entrance. The gate unlocked. The quiet and stillness seem remarkable to him, considering what the building is, and who owns it.
Unless they’re all gone… flying the coop in that plane, he thinks. Why? Surely Stefano thinks I’m dead and no longer a threat now. Why would he leave… in such a rush? Could help be on the way, he wonders as he slips past the unlocked, unguarded heavy giant wooden door.
But he knows she’s close. She wasn’t on that plane. He knows it with the same certainty he has that she’s in mortal danger. He feels her essence in his bones – so near it hurts and threatens to send him crumbling to the ground.
Inside he’s sure he smells the presence of people — humans who have swiftly abandoned the premises. It’s his only clue. All that surrounds him is dead silence, but for the pounding in his head. All there is before him are dense shadows covering cold, stone walls. And all he feels is fear. His legs weak, leaning heavily against the rugged granite, he tries to catch his breath when the air-conditioned environment freezes his movements. The shock of cold air is a blow to his already traumatized body.
After a few moments, again feeling in control, he begins to travel along the tiled floors searching for her — for any sign of her, and anything else along the way that might help him find her.
Only a few minutes into his soundless, furtive journey through Stefano’s enclave, John comes to a glass passageway and stops. He sees that the tunnel appears to connect two separate sections of the building and on either side there’s endless greenery. On the right side, John walks up to the glass, spellbound, and raises his arm to rest it against the cold surface so he can relax his head and neck. The movement causes his jeans to slip slightly down his thinning torso. He cinches them up then squints to spy in the misty morning light what appears to be a menagerie of life-size figures carved in stone, frolicking motionless in a plethora of tropical flowers and plants. A deep lazy chuckle, born of fatigue and irony, surges from his belly as he contemplates the Felliniesque spectacle before him… no not just the garden… everything. The situation *they’re* in. ‘All of it,’ he thinks.
“Gotta get us out of this nightmare,” he mutters coldly, desperately trying not to think about what could be happening to her — banishing hellish visions that want to play out in his mind. Of her crying, screaming, writhing in pain. Pain… he has to stop her pain.
As he begins to turn away, releasing the remains of his laughter, he thinks that not even Fellini could have imagined Stefano DiMera or this jungle madhouse.
Nope, only Satan could have come up with him.
Then, before he can move, he stops cold, and turns back toward the garden. The laughter dies and is reborn as silent fury. In seconds he finds the door that leads outside and opens it so hard it flies from it’s hinges, then he is standing before her.
As his shaking body freezes and bewildered blue eyes behold the vision before him, clouds that sailed in with the morning ocean breeze assemble into a cluster of darkness above him. Forcing a paralyzed hand up to touch her, rain hails down, stinging his skin. He flinches when a clap of thunder shatters his senses, awakening him. Forcing him see the truth before him as anger again boils in his veins. Her naked beauty captures him. Swallows him whole, and he allows her peaceful expression to give him comfort and ease his loneliness and fear. For a second he could have sworn he smelled her sweet perfume…. *Doc*.
Cool drops of rain make contact with his hot skin and he looks up into the stormy sky, he lets out a barbarous guttural protest. Then finding a large stone resting in the garden at his feet, he raises it above his head and in a torrent of rage, he slams it down upon the angelic counterfeit created by the man whose blood he can taste. The perfect stone vestige of Marlena splinters and crumbles to the ground with a crack of thunder.
John falls to his knees and cradles the flawless torso of a cold piece of rock. Bucking the need to vomit as he realizes that his actions have not only destroyed this morbid replica of his love but also, through his failures he’s shattered Marlena as well. Over and over.
He tosses the broken chunk of stone quickly off his legs and wobbles to his feet wanting to flee this carnival – a sickening, perverted little exhibition of Stefano’s brain come to life. Shaking his rain-drenched body, then pulling his hands across his face and sweeping back his sopping wet hair he sends streaks of dirty brown water down his slick back. Already, he sees the storm has moved on. Blinking up into the sky, a streak of sunshine stabs through the scudding clouds and illuminates the clear blue of his eyes, blinding him.
“Bastard,” he mumbles, taking one last look down at the smashed statue lying in a pile at his feet. She made a ravishing sculpture, but he knows Stefano like he knows himself. A statue of her wasn’t any kind of substitute when your lips have kissed the real thing and your hands have played upon the silken skin of her trembling body, and your heart has been touched by her. No, Stefano wouldn’t stop until he possessed Marlena in the flesh. Mind, body and soul.
Quickly his long legs tramp from the garden and he continues his quest. And again he’s assaulted by emptiness and silence that threatens to drive him mad. At every turn he’s greeted by another barren room and no sign of her. Nothing that would indicate she’d been there. He begins to feel defeat hovering over him until he stops abruptly at the beginning of a new corridor when his nose is scorched by the strong odor of burning candles.
“What the…?”
Abe’s stomach growls from lack of real food as he reaches for the map to scan it for the umpteenth time. The helicopter rotors are beginning to make his head feel like a scrambled egg and his senses go numb, even though he’s wearing a headset. He begins to wonder why he ever came back to Salem. He has no doubt his life would have been less interesting, perhaps even boring — certainly less eventful, but a lot more peaceful. Maybe even *normal*. Instead of heading to the South Pacific to rescue loved ones, he was positive Lexie and he would be traveling there on a second honeymoon… in that other life. But he’d made his choices so here he was.
Stefano DiMera and his sick obsession with his friends in the small Midwestern berg was surely going to be the death of him he acknowledges, only slightly amused at his tangent thought.
“Sir!” A voice booms from the seat at the front of the aircraft. “We’ve spotted a small craft heading away from our destination.”
Grateful to hear something, *anything*, he moves to hover over the shoulder of the co-pilot. “Which way is it heading?”
“Northeast, Sir.”
He cups his chin with his hand as he searches for what to do, his mind desperate to know if they should continue on or chase whoever it was that was fleeing, realizing the wrong choice could be a mistake he’d regret forever.
Threadbare shoes splash down loudly in puddles across the smooth black surface of the tarmac. Long wet hair swings easily back and forth as he runs, his usually quiet face smiling to see there are no traces of the minions that should be milling about. He whips the solid metal door wide open and slips inside the hangar. He squeezes out the rainwater from his hair and kicks off his soaked shoes.
He’s been in here before – days ago, maybe as long as a week. And of course months and years ago – times almost too brief to even remember. He finds the grumbling refrigerator and snaps open a Coke and guzzles most of it down. Ripping out a hearty belch, he wraps a hand around a loaf of bread and slaps together a ham sandwich. Quietly he consumes the food and walks across the cold cement floor.
When he sees the cot he closes his eyes and sighs. Finally, sleep. Before he sits down on the green canvas mattress, he removes the gun tucked behind the band of his jeans at his back, then eyes the pillow with desire. Seeing blood stains smeared across the cool white surface, he squints and fingers the spot. He knows who’s it is and he doesn’t want to think about it, so he flips the fluffy object over and flops his wet head down into it, welcoming the softness like a mother’s breast.
Reaching into his back pocket, he yanks out the tattered and yellowed paper and unfolds it slowly. Then he drops the gun he’s been clutching onto his lean, hairless chest and feels his tired muscles succumbing to the relative ease of the cot. He feels secure in the cold dim cavern of the hangar, certain he’ll be left alone — at least for a while. He’d seen the plane scorch the early morning sky a short time ago and it’s what sent him hustling to this place for safe haven.
Letting his body adjust to the most comfort he’s laid on in weeks, he aims his eyes at the paper, happy that it’s still dry, and looks into the eyes of the woman there. His face shows no emotion as he stares for long minutes at her.
“I’ll kill him. Kill him….” He finally says coldly, over and over, barely hearing himself, until the paper falls to the floor from sleeping fingers.
Toward the smell of booze and sweetly scented burning flames, John glides. He knows at once he’s no longer heading in *her* direction. He feels a strong urge to back away… now. This is *wrong*. He’s moving toward evil, something malignant. His empty belly is in a cramped knot. His head is preparing for a fight, and he breathes with the certainty that he’ll kill if impeded in any way from his mission to find her. Nobody will stop him. Nobody.
Smoky light jitters from inside the half open door, as though a party’s going on, but the unearthly silence disavows that notion. All he hears is his own jagged breathing. Stopping just short of the doorframe, John rests his bare back against the cragged stony wall. If only it were Marlena in there. If only he could rush in and find her there. Grab her up in his arms, hold her tight and never let her go. Finally save her. Free her from the never-ending pain….
He closes his burning, blood-shot eyes and tries to see her, but all that’s filling his mind’s eye is gloomy blackness.
‘No, I can’t lose her,’ he thinks as his heart begins to race out of control, beating against his hollow flesh.
Despite the air-conditioning, he simmers in sweat as it tracks across his exposed skin. Trickling down from his forehead to his pectorals and like a river down the center of his back, it soaks into his jeans. Using his forearm, he liquidates the annoying drops, sweeping them back into his still damp hair. He takes in a long, concentrated breath, expunging all traces of fear, turns and steps inside.
Stefano’s cumbrous body steps through the last doorway. He immediately drops the two duffel bags on the concrete ground. Puffing hot breaths from his massive chest, he leans an arm against the wall and tries to catch his breath. His senses are quickly assaulted. From the narrow, dimly lit tunnels leading him here to the chill of the cavern, the cool ocean breeze and sunlight flickering in upon the dark surface of the water, he blinks and breathes deeply. After giving himself a moment to adjust, he flicks on the switch and watches as a series of track lights snap on, illuminating the large, luxurious man-made lagoon where his two yachts and state-of-the-art, custom-built speedboat bob gently in clear aqua blue water. Housed for pleasure or quick escape, he growls from deep in his belly, furious that his plans are abruptly going to hell.
How anyone, especially the perpetual failures from the bastion of small-minded Puritanism: Salem, U.S.A., had managed to find this place both mystify and enrage him.
Things aren’t supposed to be going like this.
“Arrrgh!” He shakes his head and pounds his chest, thinking he should have known everything would wind up spinning out of his control when he found out what Kristen had done, and being forced to bring her with him. Kristen. She’ll be fine. He can’t think about that now. About the weakness of others. Not now. He can’t think about the consequences of leaving this place in the hands of those who were never meant to tread its grounds. If he does he knows he’ll stay and fight. That’s impossible, so he puts it out of his mind. He has to put Marlena first. Always. Whatever happens won’t matter as long a she’s with him. They’ll be forever free of all the complications that may follow Carver’s invasion. If indeed the man made it as far as the compound.
“Hurry up,” he shouts behind him.
They’ll quickly escape and be out of sight before Carver even appears on the horizon. Abe will have much to busy himself with once arriving, he figures. He’ll send Caine back to complicate things and his other guard will be interrogated if found. He knows his men will never betray him. Carver will never find John’s body, and Marlena will vanish into thin air. Safe in his keeping… cherished for the rest of her life.
“What are you looking at?” Stefano bursts out, furious spit flying from his mouth, as he looks upon the man holding Marlena in front of him.
“You idiot, don’t just stand there like a damn dog! I want Marlena secured inside the cabin,” he fumes, pointing at the speedboat, feeling like time is squeezing his blood vessels to the point of them bursting. “NOW! Do it! And be careful with her! *Then* I want these bags on board!”
He snarls, jabbing his fist up into the air in a combined gesture of anger and hysteria. Then before Caine can pass by him, Stefano quiets himself and gently sweeps Marlena’s hair from her sleeping eyes, then lowers his thick lips to her forehead planting an ever-delicate kiss. He turns his head, choosing to ignore Marlena’s unconscious, but obvious recoil at his touch.
“Sir, will it be just the three of us?” The dark man asks flatly as he walks down to the launch, effortlessly carrying Marlena as though he were merely transporting a lifeless object.
“No, you buffoon! You’re going back to secure this place and protect it with your life…” He pauses then angrily charges, “from those goddamn Americans who’re always trying to take everything I own away from me. You will *not* let that happen! Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” he says emotionlessly, stepping down into the boat with their stolen human cargo and disappearing into the cabin.
There will be nobody but he and Marlena now until they get to their destination. No more chances for those around him to screw up. As much as he trusts his men to back him – out of fear or loyalty, when it comes down to it, there’s only one person who he trusts completely. Himself. No mortal can ever ultimately be controlled for his purposes and no god exists who can surpass the omnipotence of what he’s made of himself on this earth.
And soon Marlena will discover it, and thank him for choosing her….
His fingers stiffen then slowly curl into fists of perilous rage. From where he stands in the shadow of the door, all John can see is a pair of long legs snaking out of tangled sheets upon a huge bed. Legs he’s very familiar with. Legs he wants to rip apart.
Kristen.
Almost in a stupor, hunger and fatigue draining his mental capacity, John fights the urge to vomit though his stomach is tight and empty. The sight of Kristen sleeping soundly, safe and warm was too much. Marlena had told him she was here, but he never expected to find her. He hadn’t wanted to. He never wanted to see her wretched face again, but now that she was feet away from him, he couldn’t help but feel an urgent desire to communicate a few things to her.
The air traveling in and out of his lungs suddenly becomes shallow and quick, with blood pumping like a wildfire painfully through his veins. Lightheaded, he wobbles forward, grabbing the thick wooden spiral bedpost to steady himself. Shaking his head as a recent memory begins to rail inside his mind, his quaking hands grab fistfuls of matted hair as he staggers backward.
“No,” he moans deeply. “No, no, no….”
He can’t see her face. Panic threatens to drop him to the ground as his rubbery limbs fight to stay in control. Moving in slow motion. So slow. No time. Too late. Oh, my God. He hears the drone of his distant cries echoing hard in his ears. Stop. Stop. Don’t. Please, no. Why? Why? Why?
Away! Get away from her. He tangles with the blond menace. Thrashing. Arms. Legs. Pounding. Hot fiery breath stinging against his neck. Hold her down. Get back. Stay back. Have to get to Marlena. Finally flinging the evil away. Tossing the evil aside.
Take it off… take the pillow off. Seeing her. Pale. White. Cold. Grey. Silent. Still… No! Help me! Help us, God! Help her!
Marlena!
He goes cold, falling against the wall. Sliding down to the ground he gulps for air. The vision escapes and the pain left in it’s quake slams against him over and over.
How could I have not suspected a thing? How could I have let that happen?
His fists shake and pummel against his head as unanswerable questions berate him relentlessly, making him want to die.
A sudden harsh groan, followed by a tortured twist of his former lover’s body upon the bed brings John back to reality. In an instant, he scrambles to his feet and like a gazelle his lean body springs up on the bed and he’s standing over her panting like a beast about to tear into its prey. Wild, red-stained eyes spot a lonely pillow above her head, and slowly he lowers himself to his knees, straddling her backside. He crunches down on the nest of papers surrounding the sleeping creature and he surveys the mess with mild interest… but quickly returns to the work he has to do. Justice to render.
How dare she sleep in this paradise of luxury – candles burning all around her to soothe her empty, evil soul – when he didn’t even know if Marlena was alive or not. What kind of hell she was she enduring now all because of he and this woman lying here like a queen in a castle?
He reaches and grips the silk pillow in his grimy hands and brings it to his unshaven face to feel the warmth and softness… reminding him of Marlena’s skin.
God how he needed to feel her, and hold her. Save him from all the ugliness and brutality of this world, and those in it like the repellent snake beneath him, and even from *himself*….
Kristen moves slightly under him. Quickly he brings the pillow down over her tangled tresses and partially hidden face. She is going to feel the panic, the pain and the darkness that Marlena felt when she tried to take her from him the same way. She’ll see death and know that it’s a gift from him.
“Good-bye, Kristen.”
Air… *no* air.
The message reaches her brain through the fog of dreams and her eyes fly open into a sea of darkness. Panic rips through her limbs but they’re disabled under a fierce weight as she tries to swim to the surface. It’s impossible as Kristen’s mind awakens to find itself not in an underwater nightmare but a desperate search for air. And there is none.
‘Oh god, what’s happening?’ No air….
Her vision succumbs to the darkness condensing her world as her body engages in combat to survive.
A cold laugh rises from a hollow abdomen as he feels the body beneath him begin an impressive battle of movements until they’re violent enough to force him to lock his upper legs tightly to this bucking bronco. And he laughs and laughs; gripping the chintz pillow faithfully by hands empowered with righteous rage. Relishing the ride.
For several minutes he’s lost on a journey of bitterness and hatred. Watching limbs slowly lose their struggle and thriving on the sight. ‘Die you bitch… die!’
Wanting Kristen to feel what it was like for Marlena.
Wanting her to feel what it’s like to pay for her crimes and then to know when she takes her last breath that she’ll never be allowed to win the vicious battle she’d begun.
And then her body stills completely and John’s head falls back and he breaths in deeply savoring his victory, the remnants of his laughter echoing off the walls. The euphoria ends quickly. He swallows, his eyes blast open and he realizes he’s *killed* her — his anger and frustration too overpowering to get past, just too anxious to stop his desire for revenge. But, now looking down at her, he thinks he’s no better than she is… *was*, and not only that, but…. He rips the pillow away from the inert creature and whips it across the room.
‘What if she knew! What if she knew where Stefano took Marlena! God dammit!’ He unknowingly relaxes back from his trapped prey as he grapples with his foggy mind, wondering what to do now. Before he can even register what’s happening Kristen flops completely around and is out from under him, instantaneously propping up like a ferret. She opens her mouth and alternately coughs and sucks in air with desperation. Then she’s screaming from a face clustered with blood blisters. Gray-green eyes wide and bulging like a wild cat about to pounce. John jumps back, horrified by the sight.
Playing dead was the trick.
“John! Oh my GOD! John, you’re alive! You’re *alive*!” The words sputter out in a croaking stream. So oblivious to reality, and exhilarated to see him, Kristen doesn’t even question why he was trying to kill her moments ago.
John squints hard, all the lines around his eyes sharpening like daggers, and looks at her like she’s not even there despite her screeching and talons marking his flesh.
“I thought you were dead! Stefano showed a video of you getting shot! Oh my god, you’re really alive! It’s a miracle. I thought I’d never see you again. I wanted to die! Oh baby, you’re here!”
“Where the hell is Marlena! Tell me *now* before I finish the job I started!” His eyes are dark and dangerous as he yanks her away from him with mighty force, his large hands impaling her tiny shoulders as he shakes her. He knows with just a little more force and he could break her in two. His voice becomes something inhuman as it reaches a pitch so deep and frantic Kristen freezes, covers her ears and slams her eyes shut to stop the pain.
“Where is she!”
A flurry of “I don’t knows” comes rushing from her tight mouth. She can’t believe what’s happening. One minute she’s feeling the pounding excitement and relief of finding out that John’s alive and the next she’s cowering in a heap beneath his fury. Desperately desiring his embrace she begins to grit her teeth and breathe with difficulty as she listens to his ranting about Marlena. Always Marlena!
“Tell me, dammit!”
“Stop it, John. Stop, please… and let me *think*,” she says softly, cowering and trying to calm him. John tries to focus on her face. He throws her body down onto the bed, grunting and bending over to catch his breath, feeling dangerously close to passing out. He fights it with every ounce of energy he has left. He has to find *her*.
Kristen looks at John with eyes full of tears, the candlelight reflecting in the watery pools. She tentatively reaches a tanned arm toward his face wanting to caress the haggard visage, trying to invoke her thoughts to him. ‘Remember the love you felt for *me* John? *Me*. You love *me*, not her.’
“I can tell you,” she whispers her lie, stroking his jaw and seeing in his red-rimmed eyes the blankness of hunger and exhaustion. ‘He’s weak. He needs me and I’ll save him.’
“Tell me! Now!” He spits, filling his fists with her flimsy robe and yanking her up as he sits back on his heels. Then in a halting, deeply quiet growl, her face inches from his, he orders her, “You will tell me *now*. I don’t have time for any of your sick games….”
She inhales a shaky breath, and stutters, “It’s too late, John. When she found out, I mean, when Marlena and I thought Stefano had killed you, she was upset and ran out into the jungle.”
“Where is she *now*!” He explodes, and blood courses swiftly upward mutating his face into a deep crimson.
She blinks rapidly, and tries unsuccessfully to loosen the grasp he has on her. Then failing to pull back a smile, her face softens and she assays in an attempt to nuzzle up to him and kiss his face.
“Oh, baby I missed you so much. I dreamed about….”
John sneers in revulsion and shakes her away from him. “Will you shut up with that shit and tell me what you know about Marlena! You’re crazy if you think I feel *anything* for you after what you did to her, and to me!”
“No, no, I didn’t do anything to her.”
“Listen to me! I don’t know how you managed to not die just now, but I won’t fail the next time… which will be very soon if you don’t tell me where she is!” His voice booms in crescendo as he reaches his limit.
Frowning, and pouting her big fleshy lips, John feels nauseous watching her manipulate her way out of another jam she finds herself in. Only this time he knows what she’s doing — before he’d been the stupid idiot who was blind to her lies and tricks.
“John, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry about *what*? The fact that you failed to kill her twice? *Twice*! My god, you stabbed her! You fucking *stabbed* the mother of my daughter!” He pauses, swallows hard and tries not to think about that now. “Listen! I don’t want to hear any more lies! Where did he take her?”
“John… it’s too late. I’m so happy you were able to survive, to come back to me, but… baby, it wasn’t the same for her. They found her dead body in the forest soon after she disappeared. It was horrible. I saw her, John. I’m so sorry. It was all a terrible nightmare. I guess she just….”
“Oh my god,” his voice crumbles, and she smirks as his head drops.
John lets go of her robe with exasperation and she falls back against the mound of pillows, crunching papers beneath her limbs. He rises up onto his feet, the shadow from his towering frame silencing her. The glow outlining his dark body giving her chills as she watches in fascination, knowing she will soon be able to hold him in her arms and comfort him.
He kicks some papers and they flutter up like birds scattering into flight. Then he takes a giant step toward the edge of the bed, and leaps off. As he turns back toward Kristen, sweat flopping off of him like rain, an evil smile invades the room. Watching her face so full of fake concern change to one flooded with bewilderment is like an epiphany as he starts to laugh like a madman.
“I knew it! You damn liar!”
“What? I don’t know…. What are you talking about? It’s the truth John. The *truth*!”
Moving toward her with wild hair swinging, and savage eyes burning, his outstretched arm points an accusing finger into her drawn, angular face as she soon realizes something isn’t right. She’s made a big mistake.
“The *truth*? The only *truth* you know, is lying! And before the lies began, there’s the fact that you never… *never* believed in me! You always sided with your sick, twisted old man, or that bastard stepbrother and husband of yours, Tony *DiMera*! Yeah, DiMera. That’s what I see here. A *true* DiMera. I – I have *never* hated someone as much as I do *you* at this moment!”
He steps back, taking in some of the stagnant air, allowing the tension in his muscles to relax a bit, knowing he’ll never get any information out of the witch sprawled on the bed before him that’ll help find Marlena. Looking up at her, all he can see is a pathetic creature so desperate to have him that she’ll kill.
His hollow belly groans in disgust.
“Okay, okay… I didn’t see her. I don’t know where she is, John! But I’m sure wherever it is, Stefano is there too.” She thinks an attempt at honesty might save her. Give her one last shot. “He won’t give up. He won’t ever give up.”
Surely Stefano is gone with Marlena by now if he did indeed have her. John will *eventually* come back to *me* when he runs out of options… when he loses all hope. I’ll be there for him again, like the last time he lost her, and the time before that. John needs a woman in his life, and he loves me. He will find his way back to me. I can wait. I *will* wait.
“When has *that* ever stopped me?” He laughs. “Stefano is a weak, slimy pervert and Marlena is the strongest woman I know. She’s beaten him so many times, what’s one more?” He grinds his teeth and glares, thinking about all the time he wasted with this leech; now wanting only to strangle the life out of her. “Go to hell, Kristen,” he mutters as he’s about to walk away.
“No! John, don’t go! He’ll kill you this time! You know he will! There’s a lot more at stake this time!”
Turning with renewed fury he shouts, “And just what the fuck does *that* mean?” He doesn’t even expect an answer from her, knowing she’s just spewing more lies. The petty part of him bends over her and whispers in her ear, “And for your information, my dear, *I* found Marlena in the forest, not your father. And we made love, baby. Over and over, right out there in the jungle… and under a waterfall. I’m surprised you didn’t hear us. It was *amazing* — like all my fantasies and more.”
He hears an audible gasp slip from her, creating a satisfied grin that snakes smoothly across his face.
“Nooo….” She murmurs, feeling like she’s drowning again. Her sanity is continuing to ebb away.
As he rises and turns from her, wanting to escape the suffocating presence of the room and Kristen, he doesn’t count on his eyes falling upon a photograph just under the side of her foot.
A picture of Marlena bathed in the golden hues of candlelight swimming over the bed. He reaches and rips it away. His heart pounds in aching rhythms as he smiles down at the beautiful woman’s face etched with silver on paper. A black-and-white picture of her he’s never seen before. It takes his breath away, and he sways slightly almost losing his balance.
“Where did you get this?” He asks in a cracking murmur, never looking up from the photograph his dirt-stained hand is grasping fiercely. There’s no answer as he continues to study the worn picture. She’s looking away from the camera, her long pale hair curving over her shoulders.
She… she looks like she did when she came back to me all those years ago….
But he doesn’t recognize her surroundings… ‘Where is she?’ And there, above the gorgeous smile are eyes full of mystery. Full of fear. And they call out to him. His veins pump anxious blood through a heart that feels like it’s about to explode. Nausea threatens to overcome him and he bends over to support his staggering frame on the bed.
John looks down at all the papers littering the bed with newfound intrigue, and quickly gathers them while shouting, “If you ever want to tell the truth, let it be now, Kristen! What is all this? Where did you get it? Why do you have this picture of Marlena?”
“What does it matter?” She says, fatigue filling her voice. “It’s nothing but old photos and boring files… John. Nothing you’d be interested in and *certainly* nothing that will help you find your precious Marlena.”
“Ah, finally some truth! Damn you! They must be important! Why would you be sitting here looking at this “boring” stuff if you weren’t after something in it? And why would there be a picture of Marlena? You bitch!” His hands scoop up handfuls of wrinkled papers until he ends up on the opposite side of the bed where he bends down to gather the final remains off the Oriental carpet. Wearily standing, he rolls them all up tightly and waves them in the air, screaming at her until a low roar pounds through the ceiling and walls. For a moment, John thinks it must be storming out again, or it’s the sound of his own battered and distressed heart finally detonating.
With only the booming between them, John and Kristen stare at each other wide-eyed waiting for whatever is happening to *happen* or to stop.
She wants to kill him, because she sees only hatred in his eyes. She’s tried to ignore it. To pretend it was a lie. Her delusions rapidly falling away as she realizes it’s over. Over. All her dreams dying in his eyes.
“John….”
“Shhhh! Oh my god, it’s a helicopter! Stefano!” Shoving the wad of papers in his back pocket, he gives her one last look of disgust and disappears from the room in a flash of brown flesh.
“John! NO! Don’t leave me here!! Come back, *John*! Nooooo!”
She tries to scramble from the bed and only gets tangled in the clash of sheets surrounding her and finds herself in a fight to free a hung-over, disheveled body. Whipping the sheets wildly in the air, she’s finally released and the effort sends her flying off the bed, her head accosting the nightstand with deadly force. Her unconscious body’s soon hidden under blankets of black smoke from the fire billowing just a few feet from her. The candle flames lick the bed sheet and it swiftly becomes a wall of fire ascending with amazing grace and speed.
Rumbling from the heavens begins to rouse the body that lies sound asleep in the hangar. Limbs jerk spontaneously at the menacing noise. The worn legs of the cot shimmy and scrape against the cement floor as the thundering machine caresses the earth just outside… but the dreams are good ones for a change and he’s subconsciously willing himself to remain sheltered from reality, despite the external uproar. The walls of the hangar quiver almost imperceptibly and the roof seems to desire escape.
And he sleeps… until the sound of gunfire breaks through the camouflage of the helicopter’s pounding rotors. As if never asleep, he finds his stray revolver and drops from the bed, rolling his body rapidly beneath it. With every muscle contracting in tension, his wide eyes spot the piece of paper lying unmolested on the ground. At the sound of the door slamming open and crashing against the wall, his arm flicks out and retrieves the precious document. Crushing it to his chest he bids himself to melt into the hard floor as a herd of boots rampage around him.
Abe is the last man to jump from the giant rescue Seahawk. He pats the high-tech military chopper, quirking a grin on one side of his warm brown face. He hadn’t expected a mini firestorm upon landing, but apparently they’d taken care of the army of *one*. There was no need for first aid as he spots the dead man just off the edge of the forest. Adjusting to the feel of solid ground under his feet, he surveys the very secluded airstrip they managed to find and land on safely and feels certain that this is “Stefano” territory. He doesn’t need any kind of confirmation. It’s all too apparent. He can almost smell the scent of insanity… and he can’t help but release a grimaced smile.
Then as he watches his men moving cat-like across the landscape, he finds proof in the signature phoenix symbol painted black against the camouflage wall of the building in front of him.
“Stefano,” he murmurs with predictable pique.
He removes his cap and swipes away the sweat that is suddenly soaking him from head to toe and follows upon the shadows of his men.
John pilots himself through the gloomy stone passageways with sheer willpower fueling his winged progress. If he lets Stefano get away again, he knows it means disaster for Marlena. He’ll never see her again. Lose her forever. He has to get to that helicopter. It can’t be too late.
He has to make it right.
As he rounds the last darkened corner, he comes to a painful and abrupt stop. Not fully realizing just what has impeded his flight, with his vision suddenly blackened by a threatening shadow; he struggles to stay conscious. Wildly fighting against the force restraining his weakened body, he tries to keep his feet to the ground and becomes completely aware of the huge breathing monster he’s battling. Blinking his eyes, he opens them with vigor to see what’s before him. It’s just a man – no big deal. He smiles even as it seems like every ounce of strength is being sucked out of him.
Just as his shoulder is about to be twisted in half and his body forced to the ground, he surges up and sweeps forward, raising the mass of muscle off the ground and rams it into the wall. A ferocious gust of air bursts from the man as John’s body nails the mountain of flesh to the cold hard surface. His teeth clench tight and air steams from his nostrils in both fear and anger as he jams his forearm under his combatant’s jaw, all but crushing his neck. Inhuman sounds bubble up from the man as John keeps grinding him into the hard surface. Veins in his neck rise like snakes below the surface of his tight skin, pulsing with adrenaline. He feels like a beast. An unearthly force unable to find the words he needs to use to compel the stunned creature to give him what he demands.
Through tight, blanched lips, finally able to secure the air he needs to form a sound, John growls, “Where is she? Tell me where he took her or I’ll pop your fucking head off.”
He means it with every fiber of his tattered being.
The eyes of his prey bulge with strained panic as he fights for air. John can feel the man’s body jerk and quake against him. He gives his arm another sharp thrust into an already constricted neck and hears the resulting sounds of air being trapped and a life beginning to end. Waiting impatiently for the sign of an answer as his other hand searches behind the thick waist and finds the heaviness of a gun jammed between sweating flesh and jeans, his eyes never waver from beating an intense glare into opposing eyes flashing fear and death.
He jerks the weapon free and pulls it up to twist the barrel into the tight forehead of the still sputtering, suffocating man. John feels the need deep in his body to kill him now. Kill him before he steals any more air into his lungs – needing to make this puffed-up monster pay for all this… but that won’t get her back.
“Where’s Marlena? Where is *she*!”
Dark green eyes begin to flicker and roll back behind sweating eyelids as a shattered voice breaks free. “Down… down there. The boat….”
“Down where? Where!”
Eyes drop back down, staring blood shot and bulging at John, then they dart sharply in the direction he wants to make known. John snarls and begins to loosen his stranglehold.
“Take me there! Now!”
Just as he’s about to turn him in the direction he needs, making sure to have a good grip on the huge glob of flesh, the gun flies from his hand and he flops forward against the thick chest separating him from the wall. Blissfully free, Stefano’s guard gasps for air, steps away and let’s John’s body tumble slowly to the ground.
“What happened to you? Where the hell have you been?” He shouts hoarsely at the man who has just knocked John unconscious with a swing of his arm and fist. Ignoring the angry questions, the man glowers down at the crumpled body at his feet.
As they both become aware of swirls of smoke surrounding them, they can also feel and hear the thudding of quickly approaching feet just outside. Rubbing his eyes, and coughing as the smoke thickens, the guard reaches over and swats the other man on the arm.
“Come on! Let’s get out of here! He watches, bewildered as the man before him slowly bends down and feels around the floor, retrieving the gun lying next to John. Almost lost in the smoke he aims down at the shrouded form below him.
“Gimme that, you fuck-head!” Ripping the gun out of the hand holding it unsteadily, the guard shouts. “Leave it! Let’s go!”
As he turns, hearing the ever-increasing volume of whoever is invading, he notices that his cohort hasn’t moved an inch and is still staring down at John. He loses his patience and slaps the man out of his stupor.
“VAL! Now!”
The pain in her head radiates from the base of her skull stabbing her again and again. She reaches up and cradles it in her shaky palms. The stiffness in her joints makes her attempt to roll over excruciating. Marlena lets out an involuntary moan as she sits up and swings her legs slowly over the smooth surface, dropping her feet to the ground.
It’s so quiet, so dark. She wonders why it feels like she’s on a swing set, sending her toward the cusp of nausea. She thinks this must be just another new version of hell specially packaged and delivered by Stefano. Attempting to rise, she quickly loses her balance and plops back down causing her head to spin. She tries again, and again she wobbles and collapses. Cold and shaking, she tries to repress her body’s desire to succumb to darkness again. Hearing the sound of waves slapping against the cocoon she’s in, she realizes she’s in a boat.
Then she hears it – the roar of a madman. The hair on the back of her neck stands up and her body flinches. She clings to her seat, wanting to hide. Thankfully the ranting isn’t aimed at her and it’s in the echoing distance.
It’s time to get away. Or time to die.
Marlena manages to force her languishing body to move. To rise up and make her way out of the cramped, rolling darkness. When she pulls herself up toward light, she’s forced to slam her eyes shut when the glare of flickering water assails them. ‘Oh dear god… where am I now? And how am I going to get out of here?’
It’s not until many minutes pass and he’s sure he’s alone again that he allows his muscles to relax and his body to lay flat and heavy against the concrete floor, breathing fully again. He opens his eyes and squints down at his fist clenching the piece of paper against his chest. He sighs, rests the gun down on his stomach, folds the paper neatly into the well-worn square he always keeps it in, tucks it safely inside his front jeans pocket, then scoots back out from under the cot.
After brushing the dirt off his body and shoving the clunky weapon into his pocket where it proceeds to almost cause his loose-fitting jeans to drop to the floor, he pauses and listens intently. Hearing nothing but the warm breeze slapping the palm leaves just outside the open door, he grins and his eyes flash. No more rain, no more invaders. He knows what to do. This will be easy. This is what he’s been waiting for….
It’s time to go.
When Abe arrives at the entrance to the mammoth structure Stefano built, his men are dragging John’s body from the bowels of what resembles a dragon spewing billows of angry black smoke from every vent. He squats next to John who is coughing and gasping for air – his nose and mouth coated with black soot. Abe helps him sit up as John leans to the side and retches with dry heaves. His lungs are burning and his throat is singed.
“John! Thank god we found you… where is she? Where’s Marlena?”
Blinking away watery eyes, John turns swiftly and realizes who’s spoken her name.
“Abe!”
Reaching down to help his friend up, Abe’s shocked at John’s appearance. Looking like a ravaged prisoner of war, plastered with dirt and covered with bloody scrapes and bruises, he can’t even imagine the battle that created the sight before him.
As John tries to stand up with Abe’s support, through short rasping breaths, he manages to hammer out the words he desperately needs to say.
“Abe, he’s got her… the water. We’ve gotta stop him!”
John tears away from Abe and starts to swerve rapidly toward the now engulfed building, stumbling and faltering, then finally being hauled back through screams of protest. Then he sees the papers strewn along the lawn and breaks away and begins scrambling to sweep them up again frantically before they blow away.
“No, dammit!”
Abe comes over and helps John pick up some of the papers, not bothering to inquire about them. Shuffling the papers together, John approaches him and shoves the ones he’d gathered into his friend’s hand. “Keep those for me buddy, please.” Then looking down, he sees he missed something. He bends over and nudges Abe’s leg slightly and yanks the photo of Marlena out from under Abe’s boot.
“I’ll keep this,” he whispers and slips it into his pocket. His lip curls slightly as he looks up at Abe solemnly.
After placing the papers securely inside his shirt, Abe grabs John’s shoulders and looks grimly into his friend’s blood-shot, plundered eyes. He’s not sure he heard what John said before. Urgently he asks, “Did you say ‘water’, John? Stefano has her in a boat? Did you see them?”
“No! But I know that’s where he’s got her. He’s gonna get away again!” He tries to free himself from Abe’s grasp, fighting to head back into the house and down to the ocean but Abe’s stronger. All he can see in his mind is Stefano flying across the ocean disappearing into the abyss where he’ll never find her.
“John! Stop it… listen, we can get him! Let’s get back to the chopper and track him down from the air. There’s no way he can get away, come on!” Abe steadies him and watches as his words begin to register in an obviously spent mind.
“Yeah, okay… okay!” Deliriously exhausted, fueled only by recycled adrenaline, John grits his teeth and starts to push Abe forward, gripping onto his sleeve for a little help as they head toward the helicopter.
With one hand pressed against the throbbing pain of her abdomen and the other hand steadying her, Marlena blinks away the glare and finally spots Stefano. He’s talking on the phone. He appears to be standing between the only possible escape passages other than swimming out through the dark tunnel of water that must take the boat to the ocean. It’s either back up into the house or through gigantic opening in the cave that leads down and out to where the beach meets the ocean.
Before she has a chance to even contemplate an impossible escape by either route, the bull is stampeding his way toward her. She quickly backs her way down into the cabin below and frantically searches for something to whack him over the head with. She knows it has to be something big *and* heavy to do any kind of damage to that man.
‘Oh god, Marlena. Find something.’
She can’t see what’s surrounding her, so she feels her way around the space hoping to make contact with something that will put a stop to Stefano, even though she knows she’ll use her bare hands if necessary. There will be no boat excursion for her; no cruise to another new hell today.
His feet tromp along the creaky platform next to the craft, and she freezes momentarily as she loses her breath. She feels on the verge of passing out again. ‘Grab something, Marlena… anything!’
She barely manages to stay standing when the boat suddenly tips to one side when he comes on board. She grabs for the doorframe and clings to it, making sure to stay out of his sight. Then she sees it, and almost gasps. Hanging right there. On the wall next to her. A big red fire extinguisher. She touches it and smiles, then removes it from the wall carefully and turns it upside down so that she can hit his head with the bottom. But first she’ll have to sneak up on him, which she knows will be next to impossible, especially when she spontaneously wants to cry in pain with every movement.
Feeling his movements above as though she’s tracking him with radar, she begins to furtively creep up the narrow stairway when she senses he is to the very front of the boat. She’s frantic to get this finished before he starts the engine and….
Marlena pokes her head above so that her chestnut eyes have a clear view of everything before her, and there he is in his nauseating flowered Hawaiian shirt, opening a hatch and pulling out a map. She watches him drag his pudgy index finger along the sheet of paper as she sneaks up behind him. Perfect. And suddenly she feels a giddy rush as she finds the strength to hoist the red container and smash it down against his skull. The clunk echoes through the tank and she drops it.
“Bastard,” she says heavily and takes in a deep cleansing breath, and straightens out her hopelessly ragged gown.
Not taking the time to see if he’s dead or merely unconscious, she gets herself off the boat as quickly as she possibly can and staggers toward the alcove where he was using the phone. It’s once she arrives there that she smells the strong odor of fire and smoke. It’s a smell she remembers very well. It’s coming from the entrance back to the house. She can even see a slight silvery haze begin to gather around her and rise and fill the shadowy cave. There’s no way she can go back up there. She begins to panic, feeling trapped, not knowing where to turn. And she thinks of John and the panic turns to sheer terror.
If by some miracle he’s still alive… Oh God, he can’t be up there….
Her hand shaking, she succeeds in lifting off the receiver and starts to sob as she tries to concentrate on what numbers to touch… then she hears something pounding all around her like a volcano erupting. She drops the phone and thinking she’s about to be buried alive, she runs from the cave into the light outside.
Deliriously dizzy and disconcerted she begins to run toward the ocean.
It *had* been easy. A quick dash across the runway and an effortless leap and he was inside the chopper. He rests back on his elbows and catches his breath. Now, to wait for them to come, and then to escape hidden away. He doesn’t care about what will happen. Just to be away from this jungle – away from the bugs, the heat and the rain and everything else that he hates is enough for now. At least that’s what he keeps telling himself. He’s use to disappointment.
The machine is scorching hot and smells like overheated oil… but that isn’t all he smells. Something dark and menacing is slithering through the jungle. Sitting on the edge of the helicopter’s opening, his feet dangling, he leans out and cranes his head back to see clouds of thick smoke swirling up through the treetops into the sky. It’s like a dream.
Could it really be on fire? Could she be in there? Was he? And what about… What’s happening? This is all wrong.
Clouded with questions, and paralyzed by the overwhelming desperate feelings building inside, his worried eyes become entranced by the sight of the smoke quickly painting the sky black. Then a sudden burst of noise explodes from the near distance. Pounding. Voices. Boots. He’s electrified from his spell and scurries inside before they can see him. Quickly he finds a space at the rear of the aircraft behind some supply boxes and hunkers down tight. Until he decides he has to peek.
He’s with them, whoever they are, but no Stefano. He’s torn between disappointment and glee.
Like an injured beast, having risen unsteadily to his hands and knees on the floor of the yacht, Stefano growls and violently shakes his head back and forth to expel the grogginess infecting him.
“Marlena!” Bracing himself with every movement he struggles to remove his hulking mass from the vessel. “You can’t escape, you know can’t! Come back!”
Smoke is everywhere as he swims through the increasing denseness, stroking his arms through the gray blur toward the light.
John grudgingly grabs the hand Abe extends to him, is yanked inside and collapses onto the floor of the chopper as the rotors begin to grind to life. Trying not to let the coughing over-take him, he concentrates on breathing steadily and deeply, and soon it stops. He closes his eyes for a moment, fooling his body into thinking it’s about to find some rest at last. With muscles and bones throbbing in agony, and sweat streaking clean paths across soot caked skin, John’s heavy lids open to see Abe looking down at him with concern.
“I’m okay,” he says barely audibly. His lungs are raw and he can barely swallow. Then, managing to create the illusion of a smile, John murmurs, “Thank you….”
Abe grins and pats his shoulder. “Bet you’ve got quite a story to tell,” he quips, then getting serious he grits his teeth and says, “We’re gonna find her. It’ll be okay.” Then he grabs the documents out of his shirt and dumps them into a briefcase that was on the floor.
The muscles in his jaw twitch frantically beneath the cover of beard as John nods, pulls himself up, and perches near the edge of the chopper’s opening. Knowing he might have to jump into the water he pulls off his boots and tosses them aside. He watches the ground fall slowly away; his desperate restlessness willing it to rocket him to her side in an instant. The air becomes a stinging entity as it instantly dries up what has been a constant flow of sweat since being brought to this place, then it unglues his longish hair from the wet and matted tufts on his skull and sends it lashing in unruly directions.
He can hardly breathe as his eyes focus on DiMera’s estate becoming the literal hell it was. Luckily the wind is taking the smoke away from the ocean. John can feel the eyes of the chopper’s occupants on him. He can only imagine the vision he must be. He avoids their stares – his burned-out eyes fixated on the movement of the aircraft over each square foot of land below him. All he wants and needs is to hold her again. Look into her golden eyes, tell her he’s sorry, and bring her home to her family. The idea that he might go home without her is too much. Fate doesn’t put you through what they’ve been through to just toss it all away.
As the chopper makes a hard right turn then swoops down abruptly along the sheer cliff, John holds tight and is thankful his stomach is utterly empty. With the suddenness of a light switch the blazing aqua blue of the ocean ignites before them. He steels himself, ready to do whatever it’s going to take to get her away from DiMera. The machine speeds up and levels off and begins to fly parallel with the stark sandy white beach. Then he stops breathing when he sees her… running across the beach, with Stefano on her heels.
“Put ‘er down Abe!” He turns and shouts. “Put ‘er down NOW!”
Abe’s already giving orders to land as he moves to the other side of the hatch. John’s stomach is churning as he watches Marlena desperately weaving an unsteady path in the sand. He can see she’s on the verge of collapsing, and just as he’s thinking it, she stops in her tracks, looks straight at the chopper and her body surrenders to the soft ground.
Spontaneously he lurches forward, hanging halfway out of the helicopter. The sand whips up and assaults him as he plunges to the ground just before the chopper lands. He flies through the sandstorm toward her — all the time expecting her to get up, but she’s not moving….
“Doc! Hang on baby!”
He doesn’t seem to care that he’s pretty much trapped even if he turns around immediately. His vision is set on his fallen Queen as he trudges forward. This is not the end for them. He will be the victor, and she will be… he drops to his knees as he watches John pull Marlena into his arms. Soon there are guns aimed at his head and he slowly raises his arms into the air forever cursing his enemy.
Brushing the sand off her cheeks, he feels like he’s holding a broken doll. She’s lost weight. She’s so pale. He holds his ear to her mouth and feels her slight breathing tickle him and sighs heavily, “That’s my girl… you beat him again, baby. You’re on your way home. Time to go home now….”
*Again*. He scoffs at his words. How many times was he going to let this happen to her? How many times did a man have to fail a woman for her to see the light and run for the hills? To finally shut the door, lock it and throw away the key? He looks down at her and wonders why she didn’t give up on him a long, long time ago. Jesus, she was the biggest mystery of life for him. A gift he did not deserve.
John fights the urge to look over at Stefano. Fights the desire to beat him to death. He can’t… not now. There’ll be time for that soon enough. What are a few more days? Then again, why wait? But looking at her frail body in his arms and he puts it aside.
Fumbling fingers gather together her tattered gown as much as possible, then he secures her tightly in his arms and lifts her up easily. His face tight with rage, John turns without glancing at Stefano, whom he sees out of the corner of his eyes, is being hand-cuffed.
As he swiftly moves toward the thunderous helicopter, John presses his trembling lips to her cheek and whispers, “I’m so sorry, Doc. So sorry.” Pulling her as close as he can to shield her from the whipping sand, he makes it to the roaring machine and the pilot helps him get her safely inside. He lays her unconscious body across his lap, her head cradled in his arm. As he brushes her hair back he notices she’s beginning to shiver. ‘No sweetheart, don’t do that,’ he begs. But he can feel it slowly build in spasms. He looks up and sees Abe pulling himself into the chopper and in desperation screams out to him.
“Blankets, Abe! We need blankets!”
Without asking why, Abe fetches some stiff woolen military issue blankets and brings them over to John. He looks down at a shivering, unconscious Marlena, then at John, who looks up at him with nothing short of helplessness.
With a gravelly voice, John says, “Abe, she’s not doing so good. We gotta hurry here, man, please….”
Abe grimaces and quickly turns around when he hears the loud grumbling and grunting of Stefano as two of his crew load the sweating red-faced brute onto the Seahawk. He wishes they’d been somehow forced to use the military hardware this whirlybird is equipped with so that they could have blown him to kingdom come once and for all.
“Harmon, sit him down and cuff him to something!” He shouts, then points and snaps his finger at the other crewman in frustration, forgetting his name. “Uh, uh…”
“Von Wald, sir.”
“Right! I need you over here now!”
Abe turns back to John who is pulling Marlena as close as he can to share his body heat and fumbling with the blankets to cover her. Abe squats down, and helps John cover her, then in a voice loud enough for him to hear over the thumping of the helicopter’s motor, but with a calming tone says, “Von Wald here’s a medic, pal. He’s going to help her, don’t you worry okay? She’s going to make it.” Then he gives John’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and goes to heave the aircraft’s doors shut, and makes his way around Stefano to sit next to him, checking first to see that he’s secured. They both give each other loathing looks and settle back as the helicopter begins to rise.
John barely hears his friend. He’s laden with both fear and joy. Holding her in his arms again has stopped the constant aching pain of her absence, but her cold and shivering unconsciousness causes the kind of panic and alarm that makes it hard to sit still. He concentrates on her face, sweeping his fingers gently across her cheeks and forehead, whispering in her ear how much he loves her and pleading with her to hang on, as the medic pulls the blankets away and begins to work at cleaning and bandaging her wound. His eyes shut, lips pressed to her shivering cheek, he suddenly hears a groggy whisper. She’s murmuring his name. It’s weak and shaky, through chattering teeth, but the sound chokes him up and he releases a relieved sob as he looks into her murky eyes. He kisses her forehead and tells her to rest. To rest and soon she’ll be home.
“It’s all over, baby. It’s okay now, I’ve got you,” he comforts her. The peaceful smile she manages for him sends a chill down his spine and he smiles back, overwhelmed to see her golden eyes attempting to fire up. It gives him hope that she’ll be able to hang on as he rocks her gently. He watches as she slowly closes her eyes and he wants to join her. He wants to dream of another time when he held her shivering body close to his. Nothing ever felt so right… how could he let it turn so wrong? He wonders why he didn’t run from her then when he had an excuse… a reason to let her go and be free. He grits his teeth knowing no matter how far he would have gone he still would have been connected to her. He would have had to come back to feel whole. He only wished he’d been strong enough to cut her free and stay away, no matter how many days the rest of his life he’d have to live in sheer torment. But it was too late now… she needed him — she’d given her heart to him again and he wouldn’t let her down this time…
Then, as if coming from a great distance he hears a much too familiar sound, and it feels like a knife into his chest. His joy turns swiftly to hate as he slowly looks up and aims his dark wolfish eyes toward Stefano. He can’t hear or understand what the man’s saying and he doesn’t care to. He can tell it’s the same old shit, the same insane ramblings that seem to occupy a corner of his brain where he can never find peace. The part that Stefano owns.
His rage erupts into a chant… “Shut up! Shut up, old man shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” The violence in his voice seems to have no effect as Stefano continues to ramble. John’s in a fog of fury, holding tightly to Marlena. The mere presence of Stefano so close makes him instinctually clutch her to him with desperation, but now that the man is making threats and gesturing at them, at *Marlena*, he begins to lose it. Abe is also shouting at DiMera to shut up. The medic can’t seem to concentrate on the IV he’s trying to get into Marlena’s arm and is distracted by the yelling to the point his gloved hands begin to quiver right along with Marlena’s.
John begins to zone out as his blood pressure soars and his pounding heart seems to throttle him to the core. He can no longer hear his own voice screaming, only the piercing buzzing in his head. His eyes stare unblinking at Stefano. Seething with hypnotized rage. Subconsciously willing his steady focus to render him dead or at the very least keep him away from Marlena.
Though he can’t hear the man’s voice, Stefano’s every word is echoing inside his head. It’s your fault John. It’s you. You have done this to her, you, you… Your entire fault, you, you, you. It’s your fault Kristen did this to her. Your fault.
YOU.
He feels like he’s floating. And like a dream… Stefano leaps from his seat, rising up like a bear about to attack. His face is red and snarling as he leans aggressively toward Marlena, stretching as far as he can from his tether. Then from out of nowhere a different voice and presence charges into the middle of the confrontation and renders them silent. John barely has time to blink before the blast of a gun slices through the small space and his eyes stare unbelieving as he watches Stefano clutch his barrel chest, straggle backward and slam down into his seat. The gun, still smoking, crashes to the floor with a thud and John watches in stunned silence as the boy walks tentatively toward Marlena, crouches down beside her and touches his dirt-stained fingertips to her shivering cheek.
He’s not sure if it’s a hallucination as he stares straight ahead at Stefano’s lifeless body slouched across from him. Cold dark eyes stare back eerily and say nothing to him but horror. No venom, no accusations – nothing. Impossible. Blood leaks from a mouth suddenly and brutally silenced—from the mouth of a man who made cheating death seem like a simple game of chess.
The smell of gunpowder poaches his broken nose as he tries to breathe. His body feels weightless. Hollow and stiff. Then his eyes manage drift away from Stefano down to the boy who stares at Marlena; the boy who came from nowhere and ripped a massive hole through Stefano’s chest. He sees there are tiny splatters of blood across his filthy face mixing with freckles as well as some on Marlena’s ghostly pale, porcelain face. Then he notices his own body covered in the Phoenix’s blood. It’s everywhere. He blinks and feels the sticky fluid thickening on his eyelashes.
Looking up, John catches Abe’s eye and they regard each other with stunned bewilderment. Then he watches as Abe bends to pick up the gun with a pen, as the medics surround Stefano. They both look at it stolidly, then John turns away and again looks down at the boy who is now resting his head against Marlena’s still quivering body, holding her hand. Slowly, as though sensing John’s gaze, his lids raise and he reveals his boggy wheat colored eyes as they angle upward. Tentatively they look at each other then almost shamefully the youngster frees Marlena’s hand, as though he’d been caught stealing a cookie from a cookie jar. John, now able to breathe somehow, grabs her hand quickly before it falls and tucks it back under the blanket, then gathers her again tightly in his arms, protectively away from….
As the two continue to watch each other, John suddenly feels a terrible sense of sadness and fear cut through him directly from the boy’s eyes. They are searing into him and he feels close to passing out again.
What just happened here? Who *are* you? Do you know what you just did? You’re just a boy.
He can’t speak. His jaw is locked and teeth clenched painfully. He watches as the boy gathers his knees to his body and turns his glare again back onto Marlena. It disconcerts John the way he seems entranced by her, but he does nothing to move him away from her.
The commotion around them begins to filter through the haze of weariness and shock he’s feeling. The men work on Stefano, shouting at each other frantically above the roar of the engines and blades. Then, after some minutes, they stop—slowly standing back and just staring down at the lifeless bulk, obviously with nothing left to do. Stefano’s chest is a gutted mess. Blood and flesh is mangled and harmonizing into the florescent pinks and oranges of his tropical shirt. John sits up and tries to focus hard, feeling a desire to see if the man slumped there is really Stefano—because surely he can’t be dead. That only happens to mere mortals.
Then it’s like he’s looking down at the scene from above. Floating above it all like a vaporous spirit. He can’t feel Marlena in his arms. He knows he’s holding her… desperately clenching onto the only thing that keeps him sane and he can’t breathe to think she’s slipping away, but he can’t feel *anything*. And she remains unconscious—oblivious to the madness that occurred just feet away from her. Life continues to pull him along in this bizarre nightmare, always a threatening storm. Always the fear of losing everything. Her.
Don’t leave me Marlena. Please stay with me. Please.
After the medic finishes up what he’d started to do for Marlena before the *incident*, he brings John a bottle of water and two government-issue nutrition bars; the same for the boy. John watches the boy gulp the water down ravenously.
“Thank you,” John murmurs. He hasn’t thought about how thirsty and hungry he is, in fact he’s beyond feeling much of anything, but obviously his appearance gave away his need for nourishment. Looking at the boy, it seems to be a similar story. He’s shirtless like John, and his jeans are torn, dirty and worn. His canvas sneakers are barely held together—one has lost the rubber bumper and his toes are exposed. The hair on his head is dark blond, long and matted with grime.
Why? Why did this child kill Stefano? John can’t seem to accept or believe that the man is actually dead. And Kristen… he hadn’t even thought about her. She too was dead–burned to death in that beastly edifice. He tries but can’t find any sympathy, only pity for her–and the remnants of hatred and anger that he’d not yet had a real chance to even deal with.
Soon Marlena has stopped shaking altogether and seems to be sleeping peacefully. He sweeps his hand across her forehead and lowers his lips to her head kissing her gently. Then John looks at Abe sitting next to the covered body of Stefano. He’s bent over, elbows on his knees, face in his hands staring intently at the boy on the floor, still cowering below Marlena – eyes fixed on her face. John coughs to get Abe’s attention. Again they look at each other with confusion and eyes clouded with questions. There’s no need to say anything. Everything has to wait till the giant helicopter delivers them to their destination.
As the pounding of the rotors begins to feel like a comforting lullaby, John starts to come to life again, little by little. He closes his eyes to wait out the journey in darkness–he can again sense her in his arms and pulls her close, never wanting to put her through a hell like this again.
He still can’t believe he’s looking at her. He knows her features so well. They’re as familiar as the paths he’s worn into the forest floor over the past months. He wants to touch her cheek so badly. It looks so soft. He’s never touched anything that soft. She looks like an angel–the angel that has watched over him for so long.
‘She’s real’, he thinks. He’s seen her before in the jungle, but to see her up-close is strange and wonderful. Like the dreams. But there is blood on her smooth skin. Suddenly overwhelmed by the realization of what he did, he closes his eyes and tries to wipe it from his mind. It will go away if he tells it to. All that’s important is that the yelling has stopped—the danger is gone and the pain is over. The relative silence calms his restless blood and though he won’t look at it, Stefano’s dead body feels like a blessing at his back.
He stands on unsteady feet, eyes blinking fiercely to focus against the low afternoon sunlight and whipping air from the chopper’s slackening rotors. The half-buttoned fatigue shirt Abe had given him to wear flaps wildly and his already matted hair whips into even tighter clumps. He watches with troubled, dark ringed eyes as strangers dressed in hospital white and blue rush towards them and steal her blanketed body from his arms, placing her on a gurney and carefully taking the IV from Abe and holding it above her. His throat tightens and he can’t swallow, as the sudden cold filling his empty arms sends painful shivers up his spine. John begins to follow along with them when Abe grabs his arm and pulls him back.
“Oh no you don’t, buddy!” Abe growls.
“What? Let go! I’m going with Doc!” His voice surges with urgency and disbelief.
Abe gives John a stern look and solidifies his grip. “You’re in no shape! The wheel chair’s for you!”
John then notes the nurse standing there with the chair waiting, and he gives Abe a determined half laugh and says, “I don’t think so!” Ripping his arm free, he takes off on wobbly legs as fast as he can to catch up to them. Abe shakes his head and rubs the stubble along his chin as he watches John chase Marlena’s gurney through the roof ‘s sliding glass doors. He shrugs at the nurse, then motions for her to wait, turns and pulls himself back up into the now quiet helicopter where he sees the boy sitting next to one of the crew and the shrouded body of Stefano DiMera splayed out on the craft’s floor.
“Von Wald, thanks for everything. I need you to stay here with the body until I can arrange for it to be shipped back to the states. Guard him with your life, ya hear. I’ll call you as soon as I get things in order—shouldn’t take long,” he tells the soldier medic, who nods, then motions for the boy to come towards him, then waves to the other soldier. “Harmon, come with me. I’m taking the boy to get checked out by a doctor. I’m going to need help watching him.” Abe grabs his briefcase and guides the boy off the chopper and into the wheel chair. They look at each other suspiciously then the boy turns away and begins nibbling on a fingernail.
Entering the elevators to go down into the hospital from the roof, Abe looks down at the sullen, grubby looking boy and wonders why he looks so familiar and what on earth could cause him to do what he did. The questions seem to be streaming through his brain like endless ticker tape. He’s at a loss for what they will do with him.
“We’ve been waiting for you,” she says smiling. “Let’s go sit down, and….”
John backs up startled, and squints at the short, dark-haired woman with the concerned almond shaped eyes, wondering what’s impeding him.
“What?” He asks, looking down at the nurse’s hand grabbing onto his arm wanting to pull him in the opposite direction.
“Come with me, *please*,” her calm voice insists. “We’ve been waiting for you. There are things for you to fill out and we have to—I have a room for you. You look like you might want to freshen up a bit,” she says with an inviting tease.
“No, no… You don’t understand. She almost died. I have to stay with her! She’s really—she’s so sick,” his fingers pry away her hand’s subtle but firm grip and he refuses to go with her. He attempts to pull his fingers through his hair in frustration and near panic, but the fibers are too tangled.
“I’m sorry, you can’t go in there with her,” she states cautiously, and tries unsuccessfully to wrap her fleshy arm around his waist.
“All right, all right! I’ll stay right here,” he blurts impatiently, yanking himself away from her and twirling down into the hallway where Marlena disappeared. “I’ll be right here if she needs me.”
“That’s very good of you, but you need to be checked over too,” she tells him. “Lots to take care of.”
“Nah, I’m just fine, really. Just, just… let me wait here. I’m not leaving, so you’re wasting your time anyway. I’ve got to be here if she needs me. Just, please.…” John folds his arms around his chest and paces back and forth, his jeans slipping low on his waist, while the nurse shakes her head in consternation. She sees there’s no way she’ll win so she decides to give him a little time to calm down, and she’ll try again later. There was no talking to this man who obviously had been through some kind of battle. Her rubber soles squeak on the tile floor as she turns to walk back to her station. Halfway there she hears a loud thud echo against the walls behind her.
Belle keeps trying to take the telephone away, her fingertips capped with globs of peanut butter and jelly. Caroline hikes the slipping girl back up solidly onto her hip. She barely notices Belle’s fidgeting as she listens closely to the voice on the other end. Desperate to hear good news, her eyes are unblinking and riveted as Belle wiggles against her. Belle changes her focus from the phone to the pearl earrings dangling from Caroline’s ears. Next it is the angel pin on her blouse….
“Oh my heavens, Abe! Thank God!” Caroline looks at Belle and the smile on her face makes Belle giggle wildly. Then soon she hangs up the phone and she and Belle go twirling through the kitchen laughing. “Mommy is coming home, sweetheart! Mommy and daddy are both coming home!”
When dizziness starts to take over, they stop and sit at the kitchen table, still laughing. Belle begins to attack her toast again, as Brady comes flying into the room in his underwear and one stocking foot.
“What happened?” He shouts.
With a mouth full of her favorite breakfast concoction, Belle spurts out, “Mommy and Daddy coming home, Bwady!”
“Togedder?”
“Yes, darling. *Together*,” Caroline declares, then gets up and takes his hand. “Let’s go finish getting you dressed.” She turns around and points her finger at Belle. “You stay right there young lady. Don’t touch anything until I get back, okay?” She pauses for a moment to look back at Belle, amazed at how much the little girl looks like her mother, and how strange it seems that she and the little girl aren’t blood related. That fact has never really made an impact on her and she’s not sure why. Belle looks up at her, one of her fingers poked through the middle of her peanut butter toast and gives her a smile that makes her button nose crinkle. Caroline winks at her.
“Okay, darlin’ let’s go finish getting dressed and then we can all go and tell Grandpa the good news!”
“Yay!” Brady yells, his little legs begin an irrepressible jig as he follows Caroline out of the room.
There are muffled voices swirling around him like a dream as he begins to slip back into consciousness. Every muscle burns. Every bone aches. His throat feels like sandpaper. He tries to focus on the shadowy figures encircling him but the fog is paralyzing and the weakness is oppressive. For a confused moment he assumes Stefano has him captured again in some dark space until he hears Abe’s voice and light begins to penetrate the specters.
“Abe! Thank god,” he rasps, reaching for him.
“Hey, pal you okay? How do you feel?” Abe grabs John’s hand and squeezes it and notices his grip isn’t all that strong. John blinks wildly until he’s able to focus on Abe’s face.
“Where’s Doc? Is she okay? Have you seen her? What happened?”
“You passed out. I told you to get in that wheelchair didn’t I?” He pats John’s hand and lets it drop. “Marlena’s getting the care she needs…” Abe backs up and sits down in the available chair as two nurses leave the room and the doctor progresses around the bed continuing to check on John. His eyes narrow in on the boy across the room. He crosses his arms, and frowns with frustration. He hasn’t been able to get a word out of him. Hasn’t been able to penetrate the intense stare—his sad blue eyes seeming to look straight through him. He couldn’t even get a name out of him. But at least they’d gotten him showered and checked out by a doctor. But that was it. He wouldn’t tell the doctors anything, and they’d only been able to say that he was slightly malnourished.
“I think we have a case of extreme exhaustion and the after effects of dehydration here,” the doctor says, flopping his stethoscope over his shoulder and standing back from John, crossing his arms and smiling. “You need a big meal and lots of rest and liquids. Vitamins. I’ll make sure you get a menu. You can clean up while you wait. We’ll get you the toiletries you need. You’ve obviously been through quite an ordeal—let’s take it easy for a while, okay? Let us know if you need anything. I’m not going to prescribe any medication for you. I think you’ll be just fine. Of course, I want to x-ray your nose—there’s some bruising and it could be broken. Do you know how that happened?” He reaches to again feel John’s nose.
“It’s a complicated story.”
“Well, you may need surgery. We’ll do the x-ray tomorrow after you’re rested.”
Impatient with all the attention, John grabs the tall, courtly man’s sleeve and says, “Look, thanks but all I want is to see Marlena. Have you seen her? Can I see her, please?”
“I’ll go check on her for you right now,” he smiles and taps his elegant fingers on the bed rail as he turns to leave.
“Thanks,” John says, scratching his head and groaning. A shower would be nice he thinks…. Then he sees the boy alone on the corner of the room by the bathroom. When they make eye contact John shudders and feels a sudden shock sear his body. He coughs and tries to shake the feeling of absolute dread and pain. Abe stands up and walks toward the boy.
“He’s not talking,” he announces to John bluntly. “Can’t seem to get a word out of him, but he *can* talk.”
“Oh. I see.”
Abe smiles and grabs his briefcase from the floor and walks to the door. Standing in its frame he says, “I’m going to take care of the corpse. Can you keep an eye on him? *And* manage to get cleaned up?” He winks and adds, “Don’t worry, I’ve got someone guarding your door so he can’t go anywhere. Be back in a while.”
“Thanks, Abe. I think.”
After a few moments of awkward silence, John soon regrets Abe’s departure. The boy has turned away and begins looking out the window. Suddenly, from a mind restricted by exhaustion pieces start to come together. The *someone* out there in the forest… the *someone* who saved his life…. Could it have been this urchin? And the gun he used–could it be the gun the guard dropped in the forest that he couldn’t find? It’s all so crazy and none of it makes sense.
John looks down at his dirt-covered hands and disgusting long nails packed with filth. The odor of his body is suddenly nauseating. He thinks about Marlena and decides the sooner he gets shaped up the sooner he can go to her. Remembering the sight of her collapsing on the beach, thinking she was dead, floods his mind and he closes his eyes to try to erase the pain. He shifts his hips and sits on the edge of the bed, dropping his legs over the side. He feels a sudden dizziness and drops his head into his hands and groans then forces himself to stand. He shuffles his bare feet across the short distance to stand at the chair that holds the *child* who killed Stefano DiMera. There’s a sudden knock at the door and he turns around. A tall nurse enters carrying a shaving kit. He reaches for the satchel, thanks her and she’s gone again. John tosses it up in the air and catches it, then quickly throws it to the boy, who snares it without a single wasted movement. He whips it back at John and smiles cagily. It only makes John feel more unidentifiable pain, but also a pang of startling happiness. He smiles, tucks the bag under his arm and reaches to shake the boy’s hand.
“My name’s John, what’s yours?” The boy receives his hand, and gives John a puzzled look.
“That’s not your name. Why did you say that?”
The sound of his voice distracts him for a moment. Its youthful, but strange European slant, eerily like Stefano’s, catches him by surprise.
“Huh?”
“Your name isn’t *John*…”
John scratches his beard and squats down so he’s face to face with his interrogator. The green-gold eyes framed by thick lashes narrow quizzically at him, and he tries to steady himself on the arm of the chair. His limbs suddenly feel like rubber.
“It isn’t?”
“No,” he says slowly, as though he’s trying to make sure John hears him. “It’s Roman, Roman Brady.”
Not really sure he’s hearing the boy correctly, John squints and swallows hard. He knows he doesn’t want to hear him repeat it. Roman Brady?Calling him Roman Brady? That’s nonsense. Struggling to stand up, his knees crack and ache with movement. He feels nauseous and dizzy. What next?
“How do you know who Roman Brady is?” He manages to ask, coughing. “Never mind, I don’t want to know…” He doesn’t want to hear an answer—won’t allow an answer. He tries to clear his gravelly voice and turns. Leaning over the bed he can feel all the blood thundering through his head and the name Roman Brady echoing there like a dirge. He mumbles under his breath, “Jesus, I have so many questions for you, kid.”
He feels like he’s in the middle of a vortex. Spinning uncontrollably, distant and without a tether.
And he doesn’t trust anything right now. All he knows is that he has to see her, and make sure she’s okay. If Marlena’s all right then he knows he can deal with almost anything. Even this child who makes him feel unbelievably troubled just to look at. But until then… A cold sweat makes him shiver as he looks back at the boy, who’s staring at him with a bewildered look on his face. His face. Those eyes–big and golden, surging with the same steady dignity and grace he finds in Marlena’s.
John’s empty belly sends up a loud elegy of grievance.
“Um,” he finally speaks. “I don’t know why you just said what you did, but I’m sure you’re just confused. Yeah, you’re confused.”
“No…”
John holds up his hand to stop him. “Okay, obviously you’ve been through hell here and well, it drove you to….” He can’t get the words out. “I don’t know what’s going on here, or what happened today. I just can’t deal with all this right now,” he says briskly. “We’ll talk. We’ll figure it all out. I’m going to go take my shower—get rid of this beard. You stay put. If they bring in a menu, you order us up some food, all right?”
He reaches down and playfully musses the boy’s hair.
“I’m not the only one needs a shower am I?”
They both laugh hesitantly and John can barely swallow as a sudden feeling of complete emotional pain guts his insides. He stumbles backwards, trying to recover from the sensation. He scans the boy once again, then retreats into the bathroom. Pitching the shaving kit into the sink, he drops to his knees gripping the bone white toilet seat with his large grimy hands and welcomes the spasms that expel nothing but a few drops of bitter bile. His face mushrooms into a beet red as over and over his body works to churn out the sudden malignancy working inside him. When he’s finished he flushes and rests his head against his arm waiting for the pounding in his head to mellow.
“Goddamn Stefano, what have you done?”
The feeling of dread marches compassionless through his being. Hauling himself up off the floor, shaky and lightheaded he turns to face another wretched sight. He snarls at the stranger glaring at him in the mirror. The eyes are girded with darkness and outlined in red, giving the blueness of the pupils reflected in the neon light a glowing menace. He growls and quickly unzips the kit. Pulling out the small scissors, John begins trimming off clumps of fusty beard that fall to make a bed of filthy fur in the sink below. After trimming off as much as he can, he looks viciously at his tangled long hair—like an invasive plant on his head—and has a sudden desire to shave it all off as well but reconsiders when he imagines Marlena’s reaction. Plus, he loves the way she tugs on the length of his hair when they make love. This thought makes him smile as he scoops the beard from the sink to toss into the garbage. He squeezes out a blob of gel into his palm. The strong pungent odor assaults his nose as he sloshes it across his face and feels the cold tingle as it turns to foam. Pulling the razor from the bag and raising it to slice into the pillow of cream his hand begins to tremble. Slowly he attempts to lower the blade to his skin but quickly feels the sting of an instant gash. Blood leaks into the melting foam and he curses.
“Damn fucking…. Damn—FUCKING—Stefano!”
The outburst suddenly makes him start laughing. First low and slow then uncontrolled and loud. A laugh that sends a wave of calm and relief bone deep throughout his body. But it doesn’t last. As quickly as it started it stops and becomes a swell of anguish and he grits his teeth to see tears circling his steeled eyes. Taking a deep breath, sucking in a current of steaming air through his nostrils, he guides the razor as steadily as he can with both of his hands. When he’s done, John drops the disposable razor into the trash and turns off the water. He unbuttons his rancid jeans and they crumple to the floor. The stench of his body is suddenly profound as it battles with the contrasting fresh smell of the shaving cream. The shower is large and open. He adjusts the water to high and hot and closes his eyes as it begins to eat away at the layer of jungle-funk from his battered body.
Roman Brady, your name is *Roman*….
It was still there–the boy’s voice in his head. Refusing to retreat and crying out for acknowledgement.
No. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Stefano fed him some crap—as usual. Oh, dear god. Stefano’s dead. Why do I feel such a strong connection to that kid? Why did he do it?
The answers aren’t very far from him but he keeps pushing them back, trying to find some kind of respite from the nightmare of the past few days. He finds it in the memory of hearing Marlena tell him she loved him—she *still* loved him. The memory flashes in his mind of her standing like a goddess in the mist of the waterfall—the sun anointing her golden and heavenly. Just for him. In the midst of all the chaos finally his life made sense once more. The eternal emptiness was gone. Because of her love—his again.
He hears the sound of vomiting and goes to stand by the bathroom door. For a while he stays there, listening to every movement made inside. The curiosity builds, as he wonders why he didn’t know his name. Wasn’t it true? His sun-bleached brows furrow over confused eyes and he wipes at his freckled nose. Suddenly he feels very tired. Hearing the water of the shower begin in the bathroom, he sighs and shuffles to the bed. Curling up on it, he tucks his hands under the crisp white pillow and closes his eyes.
Drifting to sleep almost immediately he wakes minutes later shivering uncontrollably. Quickly, he scoops up the thin blanket and sheet bunched up at the bottom of the bed and covers up. But then he can’t seem to fall asleep again. Not even after the shivering stops. He hates hospitals. Memories start to worm into his consciousness. The time he broke his leg. He begged them not to tell Stefano, but they did of course. Stefano always found out everything. He came to the hospital and pretended to care, leaving a box of chocolate, then disappearing—but making sure he got his *message* across—inside the box of candy was a tiny card with “Love, Father” written in that big thick black marker….
He turns, pulling the blanket tight under his chin. “Father”. That was their little *joke* whenever he had to go outside the DiMera cocoon. Stefano was no more his father than Santa Claus. Now *father* was dead—no more joking around. He closes his eyes; tries to get Stefano out of his mind and curls into himself trying to get warm.
He remembers the beautiful French nurse who treated him so nicely. The candy she gave him, the extra attention… the smiles just for him. But then when she left and it was time to sleep… even with a pill to help he couldn’t do it. The loneliness kept him awake. It surrounded him like the darkness and made him feel so small. His body felt like it was sinking deep into the bed, getting smaller and smaller, and the walls would grow huge and he would see things moving all around the room in the endless hours of the night. See a bird like creature up in the corner of the room on a pole and it would tell him to be quiet—not to cry. Shadows crept around the room and he wouldn’t be able to shut his eyes. He had nobody to call out to for comfort so he cried deep inside where nobody could hear or save him. But then, when he found out the truth, he had new dreams to give him comfort. A reason to live. To see him through the long suffocating hours… He reaches into the pocket of the aqua colored surgical shirt they’d given him and slips out the tattered paper. Some nights all he had to do was look at it and sleep would come to him sweetly and painlessly. All he wants is for that to happen now—because he wants to dream that the pain is over and life won’t be so hard anymore, even though things don’t seem to be heading that way.
He almost falls asleep standing under the hypnotic rhythm of the pounding, scorching water, but forces himself to scrub away the filth from his battered flesh and attempt to shampoo the matted debris out of his hair. His physical being wants to collapse but his heart aches to find out what is happening to Marlena.
She’ll be okay. She’s in good hands… and he’s *dead*. He can’t hurt her anymore. If anything happens to you, Doc I… Jesus Christ, I can’t do that again. I won’t. Hang on Doc, I’m coming.
John takes a deep breath and turns off the water. Stepping from the shower he reaches for a towel from the shelf and quickly dries off.
“Oh, shit.”
He realizes he’ll have to wear one of the hospital gowns folded next to the towels. There’s no way he can put those jeans on again, he thinks. They’re a health hazard. So, he slides into the gown, snapping it up and bends to pick up his jeans and boxers. He tosses the rank items in the trash atop his discarded beard and whips his head to shake out the remaining moisture. As he begins to leave the room he stops suddenly then retrieves the jeans out of the bin. Slipping his hand into the front pocket he pulls out the photo he’d taken from Kristen’s room back on the island. Walking out of the bathroom, he squints down through the shadowy light at the wrinkled, worn snapshot, completely captivated by the mystery glaring back at him: beautiful Marlena, sad and alone, eyes swimming with hopelessness. Dear god, if I’d only known you were alive, baby…. His thumb massages a corner of the aged photo delicately, wishing he had been able to save her then. Maybe things would have been different, Doc. Repressed guilt begins to bubble to the surface, making him sweat beneath his freshly scrubbed skin. His tired moonlit eyes focusing on the photo and questioning over and over how he could have believed she was dead back then, he feels paralyzed. He should have known. Should have *known* she was alive.
“I failed you, Doc. Just look at you,” he whispers, his voice laden with melancholy, “so scared, so alone. Oh god…” He wipes away an unanticipated tear and tries to bite back the painful memories. Then something clicks. “Jesus Christ… you’re not—not in a coma here. Why didn’t this occur to me before? What the hell happened to you? What did he do to you and why don’t you remember anything?” Swallowing hard, he lifts his head and looks out the window, startled to see only darkness. And then it occurs to him that he’s alone. No boy sitting in the chair where he’d left him—and he begins to panic. He runs to the door and sees the guard is still there.
“Where’s the boy?” His harsh voice alarming the relaxed young man sitting with a magazine in his hand.
“Sir?” he looks up, wide-awake.
“The boy! Where’d he go? You let him leave?” John feels frustrated at the smile brewing on the soldier’s face.
“No. Oh, no sir. It’s okay. He never left the room. I assure you.” He rises calmly and they both enter the room, where the soldier points to the boy sleeping soundly in the hospital bed under the soft light of a lamp.
“Ah, sorry…”
“It’s okay. I’ll just go back to my post. Let me know if you need anything, sir.”
John smiles half-heartedly, catches his faltering breath, and moves slowly to stand by the bed with an overwhelming sense of grief at the sight of such an innocent looking creature—he looked so small laying there. A strand of wet hair drops down across one bloodshot sapphire eye, diverting the path of a straggling tear. What he sees lying at the fingertips of the slumbering hand, ragged and frayed at the edges, blows his mind.
“What the… what the fuck?” he chokes. Shaking fingers begin to reach for the piece of paper as his mind begins to wrestle with what it all means. The instant he touches it the hand lying motionless comes to life and yanks it away.
“That’s mine!”
John backs away, “Uh, it’s okay… I figured that.”
“You can’t have it!” He shouts, sitting up and clutching the paper to his chest. Panic and fear explode in his glazed green eyes as he repels away from John.
“I don’t want it, kid, I was just going to look at it,” John says mildly, trying to calm the situation down. Waiting until the boy’s breathing allays, he approaches him cautiously—handing him the photo. The boy grabs it hungrily, a look of anguish on his handsome face.
“You… you have my photo! My photo! Stefano took this from me. He took it away from me…”
“I found it on the island. In his house.”
John folds his arms across his chest, and tries to hold back the onslaught of emotion he feels at the sight of the boy’s obvious attachment and affection for the image he holds of Marlena. His jaw tightens as the boy looks up at him, eyes melting with a desperate gloom.
“After he took it, that’s when I drew this… from my memory. I knew what she looked like so well and I drew her… so I could have her with me again.”
“Can I see it? Please?” John smiles as the boy tentatively hands over the timeworn drawing. He doesn’t need to ask any questions. He coughs, as his emotions flood his weary body. “You can draw. She’s beautiful isn’t she? So beautiful…”
The boy nods and then pulls his knees up and buries his face in them. John touches his head gingerly and whispers, “How about we go see her, huh?”
“Can you believe I have to wear this thing to go see Marlena? I need some clothes, man,” John laughs, as he and the boy walk through the forsaken and silent hospital corridor; it’s just past visiting hours. “I’ll have to get ’em a size smaller, too—last time I was this skinny was after Stefano had me in Maison–” he coughs. “Well, we won’t talk about that.” He realizes he’s rambling because of nervous energy, and so he takes a deep breath hoping to wind down a bit.
He’s barefoot and naked under a flimsy hospital gown that snaps from the shoulder to where it ends at his knees. “How did you manage to keep your jeans, huh? And hey, you need a shower.”
“They wanted me to have one. I—I didn’t want one.” He mutters, not wanting to say that he’d been scared to take one and he wouldn’t let the doctors touch him.
“That’s okay, you can take one later—after we eat something, huh? You hungry?” He nods his head and John moves to grip his hand around the boy’s neck playfully, trying to gain his trust and get him to relax a bit, but with an intense, almost spontaneous jerk, the boy flinches away and John backs off. He can see the fear written all over his face.
Dear god, what happened to you?
John doesn’t even recognize the internal anger building up inside—all he knows is he has a sudden and visceral need to protect this boy with his life and help him however he can.
When they reach the nurses station, John clears his throat to get the attention of the sole nurse sitting alone in the dimly lit enclosure behind a computer. She’s fixated on the glowing machine, her horn-rimmed glasses tipping on her nose. His lips tighten when he sees it’s the same nurse that he’d struggled with earlier.
“Hi there,” John says, loud enough to spirit her from her concentrated stare. “Me again. Can you tell me where I can find Dr. Marlena Evans?”
Looking up instantly at the sound of his voice, with an instant smile jumping onto her face, she winks and says, “Mr. Black, it’s good to see you steady on your feet again.”
“Yeah, barely. Listen, Marlena Evans? You know the woman I was so eager to see earlier? She was brought in when I was today—real sick? I need to see her.” His voice is clear and steady.
“Sure, let me check for you.” John reciprocates her smile then turns and shares it with the boy. He notices the perpetual look of worry on the young face and he feels eager to console him, but he can’t. He doesn’t know how to begin to do that when he doesn’t even know who he is–though he knows he feels some kind of connection; something really strong and frightening.
“Yes,” the nurse interrupts John’s scrutiny of the youngster’s troubled eyes. “She’s still in post-op recovery.”
“They had to operate on her? Jesus Christ,” he respires, the muscles in his jaw flexing with distress. “Is she okay? Can I see her?”
“I can call down there and see if her surgeon’s still there and let them know you’re coming. I’m sure they’ll want to… she’s… you’re her husband?” She says, scrunching up her nose at him.
“Husband? Yea, well, I was *once*. I’m going to be again if I could just get her home,” he half grins. “Please call, thanks.”
Just as she begins to make the call, John hears his name spoken behind him a few feet away.
“Mr. Black!” Turning to find the source, he recognizes the doctor from earlier in his room. He stands straight as the man approaches them, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to read the physician’s face for whatever news he might be preparing to announce. What he sees in the gentle brown eyes isn’t good and all at once his stomach drops and his knees almost cave in.
“Doctor! What is it?” John asks, swallowing hard.
“I was just coming to tell you… it’s good to see you up and around, you look good. Very well.”
“Tell me *what*? What happened? Can I see Marlena? You told me you would check on her. How is she?” John feels lightheaded again and grits his teeth in agitation.
The doctor takes John by the shoulder and guides him toward the waiting room off to the side of the nurse’s station, motioning for him to sit down. John ignores the gesture and continues to stand on faltering legs, resolute eyes never leaving the doctor’s face. He wants to scream.
“Doctor, just tell me. *Please*,” he chokes on the air between them. His body is prematurely reacting to possible bad news. The pressure in his head makes it hard to hear his own words. As the doctor begins to speak John hears his name again. He turns to see Abe walking quickly toward them. John also sees the boy standing alone by the nurse, watching them intensely–he’d forgotten him, but he doesn’t want him to hear anything. He senses bad news could be more than the kid can handle. Hell, it was more than he himself could handle.
“Abe, what is it?” Before Abe can answer the sociable doctor greets him with a hand held out waiting to be shook. Abe complies, smiling then turns to face John without the smile.
“John,” he starts lowly.
“Abe, can this wait? The doctor here was just about to tell me about Marlena, right doctor?” John puts his hand on the doctor’s shoulder, gripping it with more than slight pressure. His blue eyes seem to be bleeding with exhaustion and anxiety.
“Yes, yes. She’s doing well–physically. She came out of surgery successfully. The infection I believe is retreating at a good pace–the antibiotics seem to be working. But there’s a slight situation that we’re worried about.”
“Jesus Christ,” John murmurs anxiously through gritted teeth, and looks back at the boy who again just looks painfully sad and lost. “Physically? What the hell does that mean?” He sets his hands down on the back of a padded chair and slouches slightly, still looking up at the doctor.
“It means–it means Dr. Evans is awake, but not awake like we need her to be. She’s not responding to–“
John rises to his full height again and demands coarsely, “Take me to her.”
“Mr. Black, I must warn you… “
“I don’t need to be warned. I want to see her. *Now*.” John begins to guide the doctor to move forward.
“She doesn’t seem to be responding to human contact,” he tries to blurt out as John shuffles him on. “She seems to be suffering from some kind of post-traumatic–“
“She’ll respond to *me*,” John challenges, refusing to contemplate what the man is really saying. The doctor starts to lead them down the corridor and John quickly latches onto the boy as they pass, pulling him along. “Come on,” he says, issuing a forced brusque smile as they briefly make eye contact.
As they’re walking the seemingly endless hallway decorated with water-colored paintings of tropical beaches and flowers, Abe sidles up to John and says, “It’s gonna be okay, buddy.”
“I know, Abe. I know. It has to be.”
“It will,” Abe assures John, as he gives him a slight slap on the back. “We’ve got some things to go over but it can wait. You just take care of…”
Without looking at his friend, John issues a request. “Look, can you do me a huge favor? Can you get me some clothes, huh? Somehow find me something to wear? I’d really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Abe says. “No problem.” They’re all waiting at an elevator now, and John’s pacing with his hands locked around the back of his head. Abe watches him with concerned eyes, wondering what might happen if John loses her again. He’s not sure it wouldn’t kill him this time; send him straight to his grave. John circles Abe and slams the side of his fist against the stainless steel elevator door that refuses to open and take him to her.
“Hey pal, settle down okay,” Abe pleads gently, then pulls him aside. “Look, I’ve got some good news by the way,” he says hoping to distract John for a moment. “Stefano’s body is secured and it’s being shipped back to the states under close guard–meaning I’m going with him.” John looks at Abe as though he’s talking about someone he doesn’t know, then slowly it sinks in and he shakes his head with approval. The doctor shifts his legs and looks up at the ceiling.
“Good, good,” John whispers, then glances at the boy who’s looking down at his feet. “Marlena and I won’t be far behind you.” John knows he’ll be taking the boy with them but for some reason he can’t say it out loud. He can’t ponder what is going to happen when they get back home. All that matters is Marlena surviving and getting home to her family.
Finally the light flashes on with a bell as the door lumbers open and they all file in. Then after reaching the third floor as they file back out, the doctor says, “They’re just moving her into her own room so I’m not sure if they’ll be done doing that. Okay, just so you know. We may have to wait, Mr. Black.” John doesn’t care that the doctor seems a bit apprehensive. If fearing him will get him to see her faster than so be it.
“More waiting, great,” John grumbles as they follow the doctor around the corner and to the nurse’s station. He asks for the room number and they follow him some more. Suddenly John feels the full weight of his anxiety and anticipation at seeing her again as they get closer and closer. He feels her presence once more–like getting a bucket of cold water thrown over him. He’s awake again.
Frustration ignites as John fights against the desire to shatter a wall with his fist when the doctor turns them away at Marlena’s door. Nurses are bustling inside getting her situated and he has to wait some more before he can see her.
“Please come with me. We have to talk,” the doctor pleads as he slowly guides John, Abe and the boy to the waiting room around the corner.
Feeling like a dog being yanked around on a chain, John’s beyond furious. All he wants is to see her and touch her face.
Why is that so difficult to accomplish? Nobody can understand what he and Marlena have been through, nobody. She needs him.
Before anyone sits down, Abe announces that he’s not staying. “I’ll come back in a bit to see how Marlena is, but right now I think I’ll leave this to you John and I’ll get some paper work done.” John grabs him and gives him a quick hug, slapping him hard on the back, gritting back tears and thanking him again for saving both he and Marlena. Abe smiles, then says, “I’ll get you those clothes too…. She’ll be fine.” John closes his lips tight and nods.
“Thanks, pal,” he says, then watches Abe walk away. He turns to see the doctor looking up at him with concerned eyes. Sitting down reluctantly, John motions for the boy to sit next to him. He wants this over with. “Okay, tell me…”
The doctor combs back graying hair with the fingers of his courtly hands then sits forward, putting his elbows on his knees.
“Marlena seems to be in some sort of catatonic state. From what Commander Carver told me earlier, she’s been through some very traumatic events before coming here?”
“To say the least. I—-I don’t understand, catatonic state? This is temporary right? She’ll snap out of it, right? I’ll get specialists… anything. What does she need?” He stares unwaveringly at the doctor, eyes desperate for answers.
This can’t be happening. Stefano’s dead. We’re supposed to start our new life together. A chance to do it right this time, and forever. Don’t tell me this.
“It could very well just be a temporary problem, it most likely is, but it’s really too hard to say. She isn’t responding to our efforts to get her to talk or respond to touch. I think it’s due to post-traumatic stress disorder. Something happened that has caused her to turn inside herself and she refuses, so far, to want to acknowledge her surroundings; to respond to reality.”
“She needs to see someone she *knows*!” John pleads, pounding his fist on the arm of the sofa.
“Look, I know you are upset. We’ll figure this all out. It’s early yet. Can you tell me what happened that could have done this to her psyche?”
“Jesus Christ,” he fumes, feeling the urge to just run into her room. “She’s been through goddamn fucking hell! First she was stabbed, then kidnapped, almost raped, and tortured by a madman… not to mention the fact that I failed her, over and over! I was suppose to protect her! When we found her she was running toward the ocean—-god only knows what she was doing, thinking… that I was dead and….”
Oh, it was all making sense—terrible sense. Who could blame Marlena for not wanting to face her life again?
“I’m so sorry. Listen,” the doctor says softly. “Stay here and I’ll go see how they’re doing. I’m sure it won’t be long, thank you for being so patient, Mr. Black. I know this must be very hard. Very hard.” He stands and touches John’s shoulder.
John wants to grab him and strangle him even though he knows the man’s just trying to do his job. He leans forward and buries his face in his hands. He keeps going over and over in his head the list of all the things he did wrong, and how she was paying for it—-again.
“Please god, no. Please don’t let her suffer any more,” he whispers into his sweaty palms. He wants to vomit again.
“Sorry…”
The voice is quiet but hale and John relinquishes his face from his hands and sees the boy sitting next to him with the same sullen, mossy colored eyes he’s becoming accustomed to. He wants to put his hand on the boy’s shoulder but remembers the last time he tried that. Instead he forges a smile across his face and nods, accepting the sentiment. He feels the boy’s own worry but doesn’t know how to comfort him. He can’t even comfort himself; he’s going crazy inside.
While the boy seems anguished he has a serene quality that reminds him of Marlena. They sit in silence for minutes, both listening to the distant voices bouncing off the cold walls. John rests back against the leather surface of the sofa and stares up at the ceiling, fighting off tears.
“You saved my life, didn’t you?”
There’s no answer. John sits up finally and repeats his question calmly, watching the boy pulling on the ragged strings around the hole in his jeans that exposes his bony knee. His matted, dirty bleached hair has toppled down like a veil around his face.
“Yes.”
“I thought so. And the gun…”
“Was the one I used to kill…”
“Stefano. Damn, I could feel you walking around me but I couldn’t move. I didn’t have a clue who it might be. Why’d you do that?” He tilts his head waiting for an answer, his own unruly hair making trails across his face. The boy finally looks up and makes contact with John’s eyes.
“I just did it,” he says flatly.
“I know, but why? To get the gun?”
“Lots of reasons.”
“Oh.” John bites the side of his lip. He can sense this isn’t a popular topic. They’ll talk about it again later, he thinks. “Well, thanks. I owe you—-was a goner for sure. I screwed up.”
He can’t believe this child saved his life. What kind of cruel joke was God playing with them? What did it all mean? He’s too tired to work it out. As he rubs at his burning eyes he hears footsteps approaching.
“Mr. Black, you can see her now.”
Words he’d been yearning to hear, *finally*. He feels like he’s been released from that dog chain.
“Thank you, doctor,” he says, his smile broad and his eyes percolating with light.
“Remember, she isn’t responding—”
“I know, thanks,” he says quickly. “Come on, kid.”
“Maybe he should wait out here—-at first?” the doctor suggests solemnly.
John doesn’t stop moving. “Nope, he’s with us.”
The room is darkened. The shades are pulled and only a lamp is turned on at her bedside. He slows, almost tip-toeing. It’s like entering a church. His heart is beating fiercely as they approach her prone form neatly tucked in, with hardly a wrinkle to be seen. Standing behind John he keeps a fair distance, not wanting to intrude. The first thing he sees him do is take her hand. His eyes are riveted as he watches John stroke it repeatedly and kiss her forehead. It feels strange to see—-to be so close to love like this. He’s not sure how to react or feel. But he’s mesmerized.
“Hi sweetheart,” John says softly, pressing his large hand gently to her bandaged head and bends to kiss her lips. “Oh God, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry. You’re safe now, baby. Stefano can’t hurt you anymore.”
They both look at each other at the mention of Stefano, then back at her. She seems to be sleeping and doesn’t move at all. He wishes John would shake her awake.
“I know you’re tired, Doc. I know that, I do. I’ll let you sleep as long as you want. I’ll be here when you wake up, because, uh you’re… my life, you’re stuck with me, you know that,” his voice breaks up and trails off. He can see John wipe away tears and he shifts his feet. They stand there just looking at her for a long time, John stroking her cheek, then her hand. Studying her face makes him feel safe. She’s so pretty, but so still. He longs to see her eyes open. He wants to see her smile slightly the way she does in the drawing he has in his pocket—it’s odd to see her without it. Suddenly he’s afraid he never will. What if she dies… and she never knows me? All his dreams start to fall apart in one moment as he touches the soft blanket that keeps her warm. Not even thinking, he gets on the bed and tucks his long legs against his chest and curls up in a ball at her feet and closes his eyes. As he slips off to sleep, he feels John’s hand touch his head and sweep the hair off his forehead.
“Sweet dreams, kid… I don’t even know your name.”
Waking in a cold sweat, John’s head rises swiftly as he gasps for air, blind fear filling his lungs. He blinks to clear his eyes of the fog and focuses in the dimly lit room. Feeling like he’s been asleep for hours, he glances up at the large round clock to see he’s only had a slight nap. Catching his breath, he sees his hand has a fistful of Marlena’s blanket. She’s still sleeping peacefully.
After finally getting a chair to sit in next to her bed, he’d sat perched for a long time just watching her sleep—studying her features and counting her breaths, until his head slowly nodded down to rest in the curve of her arm and breast. Then as his worn psyche fell asleep it then delivered an intense nightmare, which he now sits in silence trying to forget, feeling like he’s just been beaten to a pulp.
It’s their eyes that are burned in his mind now—innocent and trusting. The twins—*his* twins. The dream had been far from reality but still the same terror and pain. How did it happen? How did he lose everything in a flash? Lose them, and Marlena as though they were never his—never belonged to him at all. He knows how, but still it sometimes feels like a nightmare he’ll wake up from someday.
His empty stomach begins twisting as he wipes away the nightmare images of a terrible storm sweeping Sami and Eric out of his arms and into the dark abyss, and supplants them with that evening when he had to tell them that he wasn’t their dad. If you’re not our dad, who is? The memory of Sami’s sweet child’s voice cuts like a knife and he reaches for Marlena’s warm hand and slips his fingers slowly between her delicate digits and brings it to his cheek.
“I can’t go through that again, baby. Can’t do that,” he whispers to her, looking down at her feet and where the boy silently sleeps. “He’s just a kid—he’s confused. Just a kid…” But he can’t stop replaying the words over and over in his head.
That’s not your name…It’s Roman….
“Doc, please wake up and say my name. Wake up sweetheart and say *John, okay? I need you. I need to talk to you. I need your guidance and wisdom….”
As he lays his head back down on her sleeping body, he finally starts to feel a sense of peace, telling himself that she’s *alive* and with her by his side he can do whatever comes his way.
“John?”
His heart leaps, but quickly he realizes the utterance of his name isn’t by her, it’s a deep masculine undertone coming from behind him—Abe. He turns around squinting, rubbing his chin which already has a slight stubble. Slowly he works his weary bones to stand up. He puts his hand on Abe’s shoulder and whispers, “She’s been sleeping since we got here.”
“Ah, so you don’t…”
“No, I don’t know what to expect yet.”
Abe looks at the boy at the foot of Marlena’s bed and suggests they move him to the empty bed in the room. “As long as you’re not using it, huh?”
“Good idea.” They gently wake the boy and help guide him half asleep to the other bed. He groans weakly, protesting the move but as soon as they help him under the covers he’s fast asleep again.
“Let’s go outside. I have something for you,” Abe confides. John grips Abe’s shoulder and lets himself be led out the door. Passing the guard Abe set up outside Marlena’s door, he follows Abe to the quiet, dimly lit waiting room. An occasional nurse scurries past as they sit down on the small sofa. Abe sets his brief case next to his feet and hands John a shiny gold shopping bag with handles.
“Your clothes,” he says with a smooth half grin.
John smiles feebly and thanks him. As he starts to set it on the floor, Abe quickly reaches into it and pulls a small brown bag from it. “Wait, wait… something else in here for you.” He lets out a small chuckle when he sees John can smell the combination of salami and bread hidden inside. Immediately John unwraps the sandwich and starts to devour it.
“Thank you,” he says contentedly, grinding his teeth into a big mouthful of tough Italian bread. The taste and the smells are intoxicating as he closes his eyes and enjoys it fully. Abe excuses himself and walks away. When he comes back he has a cold soda can in his hand and snaps it open. John takes it from him and gulps it down.
Abe remains quiet as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, folds his hands and waits, smiling at the ravenous mouthfuls of sandwich his friend appears to be consuming at a record rate. After John’s finished he gets up and throws the brown paper wrapper away in the trash and then sits back down next to Abe. He too sits forward with his elbows on his knees. Both men are silent for several minutes. Abe finally reaches up and rests his hand behind John’s neck and gives him a supportive squeeze.
“You okay?” He asks.
Abe can see John fighting his emotions; trying not to break down. He notices him nodding his head, but barely. And even though John’s looking down at his folded hands, Abe can see tears perched on his lashes and watches the tension building along flexing jaw muscles. John still says nothing.
Abe removes his hand from John’s neck and his own jaw clenching asks, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Then suddenly quiet, strained words fill the space between them as John turns to look at Abe, his burdened blue eyes shadowed below pained brows.
“Abe, when I lost my kids… when I lost Marlena, when Roman came back…” He almost chokes on the name. “—I was so lost. I had so much anger. I wanted someone to pay for the pain. But there wasn’t anyone for me to punish. I hated myself mostly… for being a fake and for living someone else’s life and making a mockery of *my* life…”
“John, that wasn’t your fault. You were all victims of Stefano’s.”
“I wanted to fight. Dammit, I wanted the world to know I was Roman Brady and that Marlena was MY wife and those kids were MY kids. That it was all a big mistake. I—I know I had Isabella, and I loved her but my whole life crumbled and I just—I just walked away from them all. Overnight. Just like that!” He snaps his fingers loudly, pauses and stares straight ahead. “I suppose because I felt guilty and I felt I hurt them. I played them all for fools, and I didn’t deserve them. I didn’t belong, and they didn’t belong to me. It was all a lie and I was back to being a nobody. But I wanted to be Roman, because I felt I was Roman in my heart and in my soul. And there have been times since that I still feel I am…” He stops short and swallows hard, turns and with a broken voice says, “I loved being Roman Brady. It felt so right.”
“Why are you telling me all this now? I thought you’d resolved all that? You moved on and made a life of your own… and now, you’re back with Marlena again, right?” Abe asks, his brown eyes both curious and concerned. “What happened on that island, John?”
John takes a deep breath and wipes away the moisture surrounding his tired, burning eyes.
“It’s the kid, Abe. He killed Stefano.”
“I know that… and we have to talk about that.”
John shakes his head, “No, no, no…. Later, okay?”
“Okay, so what about him?”
“Who do you think he is, Abe?” John asks brusquely then stands up and nervously paces back and forth. “No, don’t answer that.” He sits back down and rubs his chin and expels a shaky sigh.
“I think I know who he is, and I can’t believe it. We have to protect him, Abe. We can’t let anyone know what he did—what happened on that plane.”
“John, I can’t do that. I have to fill out a report and deliver it with the body, you know that—you were a cop. And you’re a witness. I’ll need a state—”
Alarmed, John nervously shakes his head in disagreement. He knows he has to do everything he has can to help the boy. He drags his fingers through his uncombed dark hair. “Abe, look I haven’t really wanted to think about this, but I can’t *stop* thinking about it. There are two possibilities here. Think about it. Do the math. I could be wrong, I don’t know, but I’m thinking either Marlena was pregnant when her plane went down or…” He has to stop and sort the words out in his head before he can utter them. He grits his teeth and feels like vomiting at the mere thought of what he’s about to say. He clears his throat and wraps his hand around it as if to subconsciously try to stop himself, but he finally says it.
“Or else, that bastard raped Marlena when he had her prisoner and she got pregnant.” He bites his lip and tries to keep the sandwich down. “Jesus, it still haunts me when I think about what must have happened to her when she was with him those years, but she always just wanted to put it behind her. Didn’t want to talk about it or try to remember. She just wanted to get on with her life—to have a *normal* life.”
“Can’t say I blame her,” Abe murmurs.
“I know, but every once in a while I have nightmares about it and I could kill myself knowing that I didn’t search for her harder and she was left helpless…”
“Don’t do that to yourself, John,” Abe says solemnly.
“I’m sorry, that’s my problem. Listen Abe, I feel this—this really strong connection with that kid. I don’t know where it’s comin’ from, but… do you think he could be Marlena’s child? Hers and mine? Do you think she could have been pregnant when the plane crashed and she disappeared? Maybe it’s just wishful thinking but it makes more sense that Stefano would keep him away from her if he were mine—*ours* right? Take away her son and wipe the memory of childbirth from her mind, right? Why would his own son kill him? That just doesn’t make sense to me.” Then he laughs slightly, “And shit, you’ve seen him. The way he looks at her—the way he seems attached to her and almost clings to her? He knows who she is. There’s a huge connection there. I saw it immediately, and to tell the truth, I saw something in his eyes that sent the fear of god into me the instant I looked at him.”
“Oh man, I guess it’s possible, John. Stefano’s evil enough to keep a child of yours from you to raise himself. What better way to get revenge?”
John nods, then turns and stares at Abe with eyes blazing, “Abe, if that’s my boy… if that’s *our* son, god only knows what kind of hell he’s been through. He cannot be held responsible for what he did to that monster. That wasn’t just some—some freak event or some common place murder… and I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep him safe.”
“John, there are going to be—”
“Look Abe, there’s more I need to tell you, but I want to get back to her. It’s almost morning. I want to get her home as soon as I can. And when we get back to Salem, you and I’ll have to go have a few beers and I want you tell me how the hell you managed to find us.”
Abe laughs as they both rise. “We’ll do that, pal. And you can tell me what happened on that island, too.”
John picks up the bag of clothes and turns to Abe, “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t found us. We owe you our lives.”
“I’m just glad we got there when we did,” Abe says, picking up his briefcase. “Will you be able to make your own arrangements to get back?”
“No problem. I’m going to get on that right away. What about *him*?”
“I have a feeling he’d be happier going back with you,” he says with some sarcasm. “I’m not going to worry about that—I can trust you to get him back to Salem. And listen, don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be able to prevent him from being incarcerated or have his life ruined by this. It’s definitely not a shut and close type of case. We’ll work it all out.”
“Thanks, pal,” John says, reaching to shake Abe’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough. You’re the best.”
“You’d do the same for me,” Abe says seriously, his cocoa-colored eyes shimmering. “Now, if you need me for anything you just call. And I’ll be praying for Marlena—I know she’s going to be fine.”
“Thanks, I know she’ll okay too. This is Doc we’re talking about.” His face brightens with a sudden beaming smile.
“You two deserve all the happiness in the world. I always thought you two belonged together, you know.”
John shakes his head in disbelief and amazement. “It’s a miracle.”
Just as Abe’s about to give John a good-bye hug, he backs up with a slight jolt. “Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. We’re arranging for investigators to go back to the island and scour the place.”
John tilts his head and nods. “Good, maybe the building didn’t completely burn down and we can salvage something that—” Suddenly he stops, closes his eyes and raises one hand to his forehead. “Kristen,” he groans. “She was in there when it was burning. There’s no way she could have escaped. I forgot all about her.”
“Kristen was there? Oh man,” Abe swallows hard, digesting the revelation. “Of course, we knew she was a suspect and I had just put out an APB on her after you called me, but it didn’t dawn on me that she went with you.”
“Well, with Stefano anyway, and Marlena,” John bites his lip as his eyebrow ascends. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was tied up in the jet cargo hold at the time. And I heard the baby crying on the plane, but I have no idea where he is now. Jesus, I didn’t even think to ask her where he was when I saw her….”
“You saw her?”
“I almost killed her,” he says with strained calm, trying not to relive that desperation and anger.
“Wow, so she probably didn’t make it out of there, huh? I’ll tell the team going back to look for her. But listen, don’t worry about the baby, John. Long story, but he’s safe and with his mother.”
“Okay, good. We obviously have a lot to go over here, but I want to go check on Marlena now. Have a safe trip, buddy. And thanks again,” he says and reaches his arm around Abe’s back and hugs him quickly.
“See you soon.”
John watches Abe’s steady gait down the corridor until turning the corner then he heads back to Marlena’s room, hoping against hope that she’ll be waiting for him.
The room is silent—eerily still. His fingers release the shopping bag where he stands in the doorway and he doesn’t know whether to run or approach slowly. With his eyes fixed and his heart pumping madly, he strides to where she stands beatifically silhouetted in the early morning dawn, and wraps his arms around her.
“Doc! Thank god!” Her warmth feels miraculous against his body as he pulls her to him as close as possible, then kisses her smooth cheek. “I missed you—I love you so much,” he breathes excitedly into her hair. Then, wanting to look into her eyes he finally breaks away. Holding her shoulders, he looks at her beautiful face expecting to see her broad smile and golden eyes radiating with love back at him… but what he sees are blank eyes cast away toward the minimal light filtering through the blinds of the window.
This is wrong. All wrong.
His heart sinks as he tries and tries to get her to look at him. Saying her name over and over and receiving nothing but her quiet presence. And when finally he dares to move his lips tenderly across hers the stillness feels like the earth giving out from under him.
A shiver of fear slithers down John’s spine as his desperate electric blue eyes delve into impossibly lifeless ones. His fingertips dance gently across her silky skin as he tries to find her, though she’s standing right next to him. Lonely memories of when she was in a coma tap him on the shoulder. Only this time she’s conscious, but maybe somehow choosing to be *unconscious*.
“Sweetheart, please talk to me… please *look* at me,” he implores, searching her placid face for any sign that she knows he’s there—that she knows him at all. It’s almost more than he can bear; to have her be awake but absent to him seems beyond cruel. He tries not to lose control and panic, but the more he tries and fails to get her to *see* him or say his name, the more he feels like he’s about to be hit by a train. The trickles of sweat inch down his body and he can’t seem to concentrate on anything but her eyes. Then before he even has a chance to lose it, he watches helplessly as they suddenly roll back and she begins to slide heavily through his arms. Losing his balance briefly, he catches her as they both collapse to the floor in a violent collision as her IV monitor follows them and barely misses his head. He cradles her, using his arms to protect her from the chaos and desperately crying out for help. The boy is already out of his bed as John looks up. Staring with wild eyes at them in a twisted mess on the floor, he scrambles from the room straight into the guard who was on his way in. Propelling the boy back through the door, the guard pushes the alert button by Marlena’s bed and rushes to where John and Marlena are huddled on the floor under the window.
“Help me get her up, please,” John implores as he tries to unsnarl her from the tangle of tubes, trying not to pull out the needle attached to her arm. He can’t imagine how she managed to get herself out of bed and drag everything attached to her along with her to the window. And he wonders why. Was she trying to leave? Was she looking for him? And why, *why* was she lost in this fog of distance refusing to return to him?
Just as the two men are getting her back into bed, a nurse rushes in.
“What happened?” She puffs and shoves past the guard and lifts each of Marlena’s eyelids. .
John’s straightening out the IV tubes and positioning the monitor where it had been before its trip to the window with Marlena.
“She got out of bed and went to the window, then she passed out!” he yells in frustration and anguish. “Is she okay?” He has to sweep his hair up out of his eyes to see the nurse.
“I’m not sure, but she’s much too weak to be walking around,” she says and glides around the bed and John to check Marlena’s IV. “Can you leave for a bit while I see if everything is working here, and take her vitals? Then I’ll get her doctor. I’m sure she’ll be fine, but please, give me some room now,” she urges, her voice somewhat testy.
John can barely hear her. His head is thundering with the sound of a madly pounding heart. He nervously straightens out her hospital gown and pulls the blanket up over her slender body. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’ll be okay,” he whispers as his dark aching eyes continue to search her face for any sign of her spirit.
“Please, can you all just exit the room?” He looks down at the diminutive round figure and recognizes the impatience in her eyes. He nods and guides the boy and the guard from the room, looking back before he closes the door to glance at her again. He doesn’t know how much more he can take without collapsing himself.
Colorful speckles and swirls of light—it’s all she can see… somewhere inside her mind. Or wants to see. She feels her body being shuffled, poked and moved about, but it’s like someone else’s body, not her own. She no longer has a body. It’s time to rest. It’s time to find some peace and find a safe, quiet place to spend some time or forever. She wants to smile at the feeling of nothing, but can’t seem to. Aloneness has become her haven. Nobody would dare hurt someone so far away… so unreachable.
As morning gives birth to a slow but steady stream of activity and a severe shot of glaring sunlight, John and the boy wait while the doctor is in to see Marlena. John notices the circles under the boy’s eyes and suddenly it hits him that the boy hasn’t eaten anything. He’d himself eaten that whole sandwich from Abe, and never thought to save some for the boy.
He stands, rubs the fatigue from his eyes and faces the boy, waving his hand at him, “Come on.” The boy looks up with a confused but tired squint then follows John. He wonders what’s next? What new adventure or nightmare was he walking to now? He has to smile when, after a small trip in the elevator, he finds himself being handed a plate and fork and being told to put food on it. He had to admit to being hungry… and he’s looking at the kind of food he hasn’t seen in weeks. Suddenly his stomach growls like mad and he rushes through the buffet with an almost rabid speed.
John eats what he has on his plate quickly, occasionally looking at the young person next to him who seems to be eating in fast motion—there is a blur of activity going from mouth to plate. They sit in silence as both clean off their plates and wash it down with a couple bottles of juice. The boy looks up at John, barely meeting his eyes, as he bites on his last piece of toast leaving greasy smears across his rosy cheeks. He doesn’t like the way he’s being looked at with such piercing eyes and seriousness. It reminds him of Fr. Marco when he would stop him in the middle of the school corridor and stand for what seemed like minutes, his arms crossed, before simply asking him how he was doing. He thought for sure that he’d done something unforgivable by the tension all over the priest’s face. Some people were just very dangerous looking. He can tell John’s about to say something—something important. He can see it in his eyes and the tensing of his jaw muscles, just like Fr. Marco—so he waits for whatever it is, licking his fingers and dabbing up the remaining crumbs from his plate. And then finally it comes.
“I don’t know your name. What’s your name?” He feels immediate shame that he hasn’t bothered to ask this before now.
“Which one?” The boy answers casually, then wipes his mouth clean with his napkin.
Suddenly the flash of blood in John’s face is stinging. While he’s curious about everything connected to this boy, he doesn’t know if he wants to hear anything that he says. If this is his son, how will he explain it all? How will he make it up to him? How will he repair what Stefano did? None of it seems near possible.
“What do you mean ‘which one’?” John stutters.
“The name Stefano gave me or the one I gave myself?”
John can barely breathe and starts choking on the air already in his throat. He closes his eyes, leans his head back and mumbles under his breath.
“Doc, I need you.”
The Jarlena Journal 