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Ric Lansing and Sonny Corinthos in, "The Truth"
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Staring down the barrel of a gun was the last place Ric Lansing wanted to be. But as his eyes moved up to meet the cold, devoid ones of Sonny Corinthos, he couldn't help but feel a sense of ease rather than the obvious fear the situation should have brought him. Things might seem greatly stacked in Sonny's favor, but there was no way he was giving up without a fight, even if it meant his death. "So what are you waiting for, huh?" He let a smile creap onto his face as he faced the gun and the man behind it. "Shoot."
"You...you would like that, wouldn't you?" Retracting his hand, Sonny brought his fist down, feeling nothing but pleasure as the cold steel of the gun butted against the bastard's head, throwing him down on the ground. Stepping forward, he kept the gun pointed on Ric, satisfied that the man was no longer smiling, but instead trying to pick himself up off the floor. "Why don't you try again, Ric. Why don't you try and taunt me some more you son of a bitch!" He had expected anger, not the slow laugh that came from beneath him. Lifting his foot, Sonny pressed the heel of his shoe on the man's chest, making sure to put as much pressure on him as he could.
"Oh, Sonny," Ric spoke between coughing laughs. The foot on his chest didn't help, but the absolute mockery of the other man's words couldn't be escaped. "Sonny, Sonny, Sonny. I guess that's one thing you are right about. Forget the countless number of mistakes you've made concerning me. Letting me into your life, your home. Letting me get close to your wife." He watched as the other man's eyes darkened; didn't even flinch as the closed fist connected with his jaw. Instead, he smiled. "My mother was a bitch. A little slut whore who opened her legs for anything with a dick."
"I don't give a fuck about your mother!"
"Oh you don't? Funny. I figured Adella would be someone you would always care for. My mistake." Ric's eyes flashed but even he could see that the meaning of his words escaped the angered man standing over him. But not for long. At the end of this, whether he paid with his life or not, Michael Sonny Corinthos would know exactly who Ric Lansing was.
Sonny faltered, his foot slipping off Ric's chest and landing on the floor. He blinked, trying make sense of the other man's words, but finding none at all. "Wh...what are you talking about?" were the only words he could manage. He looked down into Ric's face, his smug smile still in place, and felt a growing anger at the man. Yes, he had made a mistake to let this animal into his life, but he was rectifying the matter now. "You know what, forget it. I don't want to know about your sad, pathetic life. And I don't care what you think you know about my mother. You're a dead man Ric. As sure as I'm standing here right now, you're dead. And there is nothing you can do about that."
Raising his head off the floor, he stared boldly into the face of the gun. "Well, then, please, don't let me deter you in what you have to do. Pull the trigger, Sonny. I'm not so sure dearest mommy will be thrilled about that, but then again, what do I know. She's dead, the little slut."
"Knowing you, I believe it." Sonny raised his right hand, cocking the gun as he pointed it at Ric's forehead.
"Where do you think she learned it from, huh? Her own mother was basically the town whore. The picture of a little old grandmother turning tricks certainly isn't one that sparks fond memories, yet I didn't have the privledge of knowing either of them so I guess it doesn't matter. Knowing the little that I do of young Adella Risorano, she probably pciked up the trade on her own."
In that moment, something clicked inside Sonny's head. At first, he thought Ric's mention of his mother had been fleeting, as if the other man was using whatever information he had learned about Sonny to his own advantage. But Ric knew too much; way too much. And the way he kept refering to his mother..."What are you talking about?" Sonny spoke, his voice barely audible above the loud roaring in his ears.
"Nothing. You don't care, right? Go ahead. Shoot. Kill me." Rick raised his head higher, bringing it flush against the steel barrel of the gun. "Pull the trigger, dear little brother." He didn't blink as he faced Sonny, faced the weak man before him. And that was what he was. Weak. Using pawns to play a game the he couldn't cut it at. Putting so many walls around him that it made him the cold, unfeeling bastard that he was. Ric stared boldly into his younger brother's eyes and smiled. "I'm waiting."
"No." This couldn't be. His hand shook, the gun wavering back and forth before Ric's face. Finally, he pulled it away, never removing it from the man completely, but lessening the threat nonetheless. "You're a liar."
Ric wouldn't give him the satisfaction of denying. "Right. I am. Shoot."
"Adella is...Adella is my mother," Sonny roared.
"Oh, I don't doubt that Sonny. You were the son she chose to keep. Her child with the supposed love of her life." Ric barked a laugh. "Imagine that, little Adella Risorano in love. She didn't know love from an orgasm. Her only concern was getting laid, no matter the consequences of her actions. Damn the little boy she abandoned in a dumpster less than an hour from when she gave birth to him. Her only concern was for herself; her wants and her needs. But I guess you lucked out. She kept you around, for a while at least. " Ric smiled then. "Long enough for you to meet the next love of her life. Ah, that's one thing I didn't miss. Step-daddy Deke. I'm sure those beatings were great family entertainment...for the both of you."
The pounding in his ears grew louder, almost taking over the sound of anything else. "You... You aren't..." Sonny stepped back, his eyes glazing over. "No. You can't be."
"Know what little brother, I'm getting bored. So why don't you do us both a favor and finish what you started. PULL THE GODDAMN TRIGGER!"
Stepping back completely, Sonny ran Ric's previous words through his head. Brother? He stared at the man before him, trying to pick out any familiar traits. Anything that would connect the other man to... No! There was no way that Ric was related to him. This had to be some sort of trick. Pulling himself together, Sonny moved around the couch, his eyes trained on Ric as he struggled for some sort of clarity. "Jason told me that you...that you had researched my life. Everything there is to know about me, you do. So what? Now you're trying to use it against me? Hoping that I'll spare you because you have inside information about me? Because of the fact that you know my mother's name?"
"Our mother's name, Sonny" Ric spoke in a dangerous tone. "Though she didn't take me home from a hospital the way she did you, Adella still gave birth to me. Actually now that I think about it, she probably did me a favor by abandoning me. I don't think I would have liked spending hours and hours locked in dark closets. Not really my idea of a good time."
Caught by his words, Sonny stopped, staring over the back of the couch at Ric. The other man rose to his feet, unsteady, but seeming more put together than anyone should be in the present situation. Certianly more steady than Sonny felt at the moment. He watched as Ric wiped the blood from his nose and mouth, smattering the red stains against his suit jacket as he stared him down. "You're a liar."
"Adella Marie Risorano, born to Anthony and Marianne Risorano in 1949 Brooklyn Heights, just at the end of the recession. She lived the priveledged life as daughter of a respected businessman. Her mother, well, she left a lot to be desired. Not finding happiness with her husband, she found it with other men in the neighborhood. The butcher. The baker. The candlestick maker. That's how Adella got started probably. Seeing her mother whore herself off to anything in pants, she probably thought it was okay, common practice. So she began to do the same. It started out innocent enough, but very quickly escalated to the point where she was known as the block tramp - like mother, like daugher. Her father disowned her at 16, kicked her out, told her never to return again. Her mother, ashamed, could only watch as her daughter was turned away from the family. I'm sure that's when a lot of her insecurites began. Young with nowhere to go, no one to depend on. It's no wonder she ended up living the life she did, moving from one man to the next."
All Sonny could do was listen as Ric continued, undeterred by him, by the gun he was holding, not that either posed any visible threat. He was captivated by the other man's words.
"Adella fell in with a bad crowd. Continued her scandalous ways. Got pregnant at 18, but to her luck, had a miscarriage. I guess that child would be the luckiest out of all of us, right? Never had to experience the hurt of abandoment that you and I did. You would think God would prohibit people like that from bringing life into this world, but then, she got pregnant with me. I actually found out that she was going to keep me, had bought a little bassinet to rock her newborn baby to sleep in at night." A muscle in his jaw ticked, the next words already leaving a bitter taste on his toungue.
"And then she met your father. An addict to the game, he never once raised his hand to her, but treated her like shit all the same. So what did she do? Runaway? Find something better for herself? No! She took the easy way out! Delivered me in a bathtub, wrapped me up in old newspaper and THREW ME AWAY! Its a complete miracle that I stand here to tell you this story. If it wasn't for a nosy old neighbor, I never would have been found. And by the time the police knocked on Adella's door, she was long gone, with your father to parts unknown."
This couldn't be right. This couldn't be true. The words continued in marquee through Sonny's mind. Ric was making it all up. There was no way his mother had a child before him. If there was one thing he had shared with his mother, it was an honesty based on the love they had for each other. She would have told him something like this. She would have told him.
"As soon as she can spread her legs again, she's pregnant with you, living the life with her loser boyfriend. But he didn't last for long. Before you were three, he had split too and poor Adella was left all alone to fend for herself and her precious little Michael. Good thing Deke came along though, right? He took real good care of the both of you. The drunken nights that stretched into days filled with anger and beatings. She didn't do much better by you, Sonny. Instead of protecting her own as any normal mother would do, she stuck around for more, stuck around so you could be terrorized by a man who wasn't even your real father."
His shirt stuck to his back and his palms felt slippery, as if dripped in butter. But he knew it was sweat. Sweat that ran hot down the side of his face, down his back, consumed him in a way that he felt like he was drowning. "She would have told me," were the only worsed that escaped Sonny's closed lips. This wasn't true. None of it was true. It just couldn't be.
"When? Between the beatings and the time spent in the closet? Right before family fun night of 'Let's Smack Adella Around'? Don't live in a world of delusion, Sonny. She had nothing to gain by telling you or anyone else for that manner. As far as she was concerned, I was dead and just as easily forgotten as yesterday's trash. She probably took it to her grave that she had left a defenseless little baby in dump outside of her East 100th Street apartment. No one knew." Ric took a breath, his eyes blazing with anger he felt for the woman who was little more to him than an egg donor. "But I found out."
"What do you want from me?"
That caught Ric off gaurd. He moved his hand away from his face, feeling a line of wet, sticky blood trickle down the side of his head, but doing nothing to stop it. "What do I want from you?" His voiced dripped with sarcasm. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing Sonny. I'll admit," Ric began, walking around the couch to meet Sonny head on, "I was interested to know about you. What made you so damn special that she kept you and discarded me. When I learned of the sainted Sonny Corinthos, I thought it was all just a fantasy. You know, those legends you here about but really don't exist? But then I met you. And not long after that, I realized you were the heartless, cold asshole you had been portrayed to be. You've got so many psychotic nuances, its a wonder you manage to keep your business afloat. Then again, many have tried to bring you down. None have succeeded. Until now." Ric stepped forward, his face mere inches from the man he hated with the same passion he despised Adella Risorano.
"I wanted to find Adella so I could rage at her for treating me with as much humanity one would give to a dead animal. And then I found out she was dead and not long after, that she had a living child. A son. I found you and I thought, 'hey, why not try and get to know him. You can't tell your dead mother how much you hate her, but maybe something can be salvaged with your half-brother.' And I tried Sonny. Damn you if I didn't give everything to get into your good graces, if they even exist. I made myself available to you in every way I could. I've been your attorney, your alibi, and your pawn, and still you held me at arms length. I even took a bullet for you and you repaid me with a damn check! I'm by no means a patient man Sonny, and when you didn't let me in, when you treated me like some beggar off the street, I decided to get even.
"I went to Faith and we hatched a plan to bring you down unlike the way so many others have failed to do in the past. And it almost worked, I'll give Faith that much credit. But the little bitch wanted things too fast, and too quick. She got sloppy and the last thing I needed was you coming after me for something that had been her doing to begin with. So when you offered me the chance to exterminate our dear friend Faith, I was more than willing to do your dirty work. Two birds. One stone. Except Faith had other plans. She was going to expose me to you. She was going to pin everything on me in some lavish attempt to save herself. So I came back, told you I couldn't do it, that we needed more time to weed out her silent partner. I set up that meeting with Jacks, hid in the shadows to snap those photos. I found the murder weapon she used to kill Fowler and I provided a solid alibi for your henchman Jason. I did everything with a small glimmer of hope that you would finnaly accept me but I should have known it was all a trap. And then, the icing on the cake. Carly opens her mouth about that night."
Sonny's hands flexed. As if it had materialized out of thin air, his reason for being here came back to him. He raised the gun, but even doing so he still shook with an uneasiness that was becoming more permenant. "You touched my wife. You raped her!"
Ric smiled. "She is a beautiful woman." He watched as Sonny's finger lingered over the trigger. "And as good as it would have been between us, I never touched her. After Carly passed out from whatever Fowler had given her, I undressed her, put her in the bed, and watched her sleep the whole night. What better way to get into your small, closed circle of friends than by using your wife? I just as easily could have called you, told you where we were, and you might have been greatful to me, given me all the praise and worship you bestow on your precious Jason. But I knew that if you found out about my supposed night of sex with your wife, you would loose it. So I watched her sleep and as she began to wake, I slipped into bed with her. She didn't know what hit her. I fully expected her to be angry, to scream and yell, maybe even call the police. But no. She was complacent with the fact that she had just been touched by another man; had just slept with a man that wasn't her husband. As long as you didn't find out Sonny, Carly was more than willing to let the whole night pass as a bad memory."
"She was scared."
This made Ric laugh. "Scared? Of what, exactly? She had only hours before seen you locked in a passionate embrace with your former lover. Only when she found out that had meant nothing to you did it even concern her of the actions she had taken with me. And that's when I dug in, Sonny. Oh, it was brilliant! Dropping small, subtle hints to our night of love. If she wanted me to keep my mouth shut, she would provide me with every opportunity to get closer to you. To find out more about you. It was my solid Ace and I used it until she finally had the guts to threaten my life. I guess some things rub off, huh? She told me exactly what she would do to me if I so much as mentioned one word of the night we spent together and after that, I took the hint. I backed off. But loe and behold," he spoke, raising his hands high in the air, "here we are not because of any of the things I have done to try and destroy you but rather because Carly thought it would benefit her in some way to cry rape weeks after the fact. That wife of yours. She must really be special."
Sonny's heart fell. Only then did he realize that Carly had used what she had believed to be rape as a means to end. Since she knew the child she carried was his, it benefited her to tell him about the night with Ric. She knew of his temper, knew he would be inflamed at the thought of any man touching her in a way reserved only for him. He would get rid of Ric and she would have nothing further to worry about. His head fell down at the knowledge that once again, he had been tricked into believing something that wasn't true. Where did the lies end and the truth begin?
"Don't be too upset," Ric spoke in an all too light tone. He stepped back, walking to the window to stare out, essentially turning his back on Sonny. "I'm sure she loves you. Love is never something that comes without a price. Consider yourself lucky that she kept it from you for so long." He turned around, throwing a disdainful look towards the beaten man before him. "If she had told you any soon, I would be rotting six feet under, and you wouldn't have the priveledge of knowing I'm your long, lost brother."
Which brought them back to the issue at hand. Was Ric Lansing Adella's son? Was the man standing before him really his brother, albeit only by sharing in the same mother? And if he was, how could he justify killing him? Choosing his words carefully, Sonny spoke, "How do you know I believe you?" He stepped forward, the gun still in the air, but now posing more of a detriment to him. It felt so heavy, whether from the fact that he had been holding it so long or that its barrel was trained on a man that claimed to be his mother's son, he didn't know. "How do you know I won't kill you anyway?"
Ric stepped forward, looking Sonny solely in the eyes. "The answer to that is easy enough, Sonny. I'm still alive."
And with those words, Sonny knew he couldn't do it. Everything was a blur to him, the story about his mother, the accusations that they were indeed related. He didn't know truth from fiction and without that knowledge, he couldn't possibly go through with his earlier plan to rid the world of Ric Lansing. He put the gun down. It hung heavily at his side, his finger still wrapped around the trigger, but no power behind it to put it to use. "If this is true..." Sonny began only to be cut off by Ric.
"You doubt me?" Ric tilted his head, just so. " Doesn't really surprise me though. You're a classic doubting Peter. I'm sure in your position, its hard to know what's real and what's not. Go ahead, look it up. Call some contacts. Research my life. Find out what you can. It will only be what I've told you." He walked to the door, removing his coat from the stand that stood nearby. "You know where to find me." And as if none of the past hour had occurred, Ric walked out of the door and into the night.
Sonny stared after him. Within seconds, Ric had disappeared down the long walkway, and soon after, the low hum of a vehicle could be heard as it drove off into the dark night. The gun fell to the floor, the loud thump the only sound in the now quiet room. His heart beat at a pace that felt inhuman. He was covered in sweat and he felt the walls slowly closing in on him. Memories from his childhood assailed him: of the happier times he had spent with his mother; the horrible days when he would sit in the closet and listen to her being beaten, unable to do anything to stop it. Slumping down to the floor, Sonny curled himself into a tight ball, slowly rocking back and forth. It was as if he had gone back in time to when he was eight and locked in that damn closet. "Mama," he whispered brokenly, knowing no one would answer his call just as no one had answered then. And he stayed like that, rocking back and forth, for hours into the night before his eyes closed in a heavy sleep.
Staring down the barrel of a gun was the last place Ric Lansing wanted to be. But as his eyes moved up to meet the cold, devoid ones of Sonny Corinthos, he couldn't help but feel a sense of ease rather than the obvious fear the situation should have brought him. Things might seem greatly stacked in Sonny's favor, but there was no way he was giving up without a fight, even if it meant his death. "So what are you waiting for, huh?" He let a smile creap onto his face as he faced the gun and the man behind it. "Shoot."
"You...you would like that, wouldn't you?" Retracting his hand, Sonny brought his fist down, feeling nothing but pleasure as the cold steel of the gun butted against the bastard's head, throwing him down on the ground. Stepping forward, he kept the gun pointed on Ric, satisfied that the man was no longer smiling, but instead trying to pick himself up off the floor. "Why don't you try again, Ric. Why don't you try and taunt me some more you son of a bitch!" He had expected anger, not the slow laugh that came from beneath him. Lifting his foot, Sonny pressed the heel of his shoe on the man's chest, making sure to put as much pressure on him as he could.
"Oh, Sonny," Ric spoke between coughing laughs. The foot on his chest didn't help, but the absolute mockery of the other man's words couldn't be escaped. "Sonny, Sonny, Sonny. I guess that's one thing you are right about. Forget the countless number of mistakes you've made concerning me. Letting me into your life, your home. Letting me get close to your wife." He watched as the other man's eyes darkened; didn't even flinch as the closed fist connected with his jaw. Instead, he smiled. "My mother was a bitch. A little slut whore who opened her legs for anything with a dick."
"I don't give a fuck about your mother!"
"Oh you don't? Funny. I figured Adella would be someone you would always care for. My mistake." Ric's eyes flashed but even he could see that the meaning of his words escaped the angered man standing over him. But not for long. At the end of this, whether he paid with his life or not, Michael Sonny Corinthos would know exactly who Ric Lansing was.
Sonny faltered, his foot slipping off Ric's chest and landing on the floor. He blinked, trying make sense of the other man's words, but finding none at all. "Wh...what are you talking about?" were the only words he could manage. He looked down into Ric's face, his smug smile still in place, and felt a growing anger at the man. Yes, he had made a mistake to let this animal into his life, but he was rectifying the matter now. "You know what, forget it. I don't want to know about your sad, pathetic life. And I don't care what you think you know about my mother. You're a dead man Ric. As sure as I'm standing here right now, you're dead. And there is nothing you can do about that."
Raising his head off the floor, he stared boldly into the face of the gun. "Well, then, please, don't let me deter you in what you have to do. Pull the trigger, Sonny. I'm not so sure dearest mommy will be thrilled about that, but then again, what do I know. She's dead, the little slut."
"Knowing you, I believe it." Sonny raised his right hand, cocking the gun as he pointed it at Ric's forehead.
"Where do you think she learned it from, huh? Her own mother was basically the town whore. The picture of a little old grandmother turning tricks certainly isn't one that sparks fond memories, yet I didn't have the privledge of knowing either of them so I guess it doesn't matter. Knowing the little that I do of young Adella Risorano, she probably pciked up the trade on her own."
In that moment, something clicked inside Sonny's head. At first, he thought Ric's mention of his mother had been fleeting, as if the other man was using whatever information he had learned about Sonny to his own advantage. But Ric knew too much; way too much. And the way he kept refering to his mother..."What are you talking about?" Sonny spoke, his voice barely audible above the loud roaring in his ears.
"Nothing. You don't care, right? Go ahead. Shoot. Kill me." Rick raised his head higher, bringing it flush against the steel barrel of the gun. "Pull the trigger, dear little brother." He didn't blink as he faced Sonny, faced the weak man before him. And that was what he was. Weak. Using pawns to play a game the he couldn't cut it at. Putting so many walls around him that it made him the cold, unfeeling bastard that he was. Ric stared boldly into his younger brother's eyes and smiled. "I'm waiting."
"No." This couldn't be. His hand shook, the gun wavering back and forth before Ric's face. Finally, he pulled it away, never removing it from the man completely, but lessening the threat nonetheless. "You're a liar."
Ric wouldn't give him the satisfaction of denying. "Right. I am. Shoot."
"Adella is...Adella is my mother," Sonny roared.
"Oh, I don't doubt that Sonny. You were the son she chose to keep. Her child with the supposed love of her life." Ric barked a laugh. "Imagine that, little Adella Risorano in love. She didn't know love from an orgasm. Her only concern was getting laid, no matter the consequences of her actions. Damn the little boy she abandoned in a dumpster less than an hour from when she gave birth to him. Her only concern was for herself; her wants and her needs. But I guess you lucked out. She kept you around, for a while at least. " Ric smiled then. "Long enough for you to meet the next love of her life. Ah, that's one thing I didn't miss. Step-daddy Deke. I'm sure those beatings were great family entertainment...for the both of you."
The pounding in his ears grew louder, almost taking over the sound of anything else. "You... You aren't..." Sonny stepped back, his eyes glazing over. "No. You can't be."
"Know what little brother, I'm getting bored. So why don't you do us both a favor and finish what you started. PULL THE GODDAMN TRIGGER!"
Stepping back completely, Sonny ran Ric's previous words through his head. Brother? He stared at the man before him, trying to pick out any familiar traits. Anything that would connect the other man to... No! There was no way that Ric was related to him. This had to be some sort of trick. Pulling himself together, Sonny moved around the couch, his eyes trained on Ric as he struggled for some sort of clarity. "Jason told me that you...that you had researched my life. Everything there is to know about me, you do. So what? Now you're trying to use it against me? Hoping that I'll spare you because you have inside information about me? Because of the fact that you know my mother's name?"
"Our mother's name, Sonny" Ric spoke in a dangerous tone. "Though she didn't take me home from a hospital the way she did you, Adella still gave birth to me. Actually now that I think about it, she probably did me a favor by abandoning me. I don't think I would have liked spending hours and hours locked in dark closets. Not really my idea of a good time."
Caught by his words, Sonny stopped, staring over the back of the couch at Ric. The other man rose to his feet, unsteady, but seeming more put together than anyone should be in the present situation. Certianly more steady than Sonny felt at the moment. He watched as Ric wiped the blood from his nose and mouth, smattering the red stains against his suit jacket as he stared him down. "You're a liar."
"Adella Marie Risorano, born to Anthony and Marianne Risorano in 1949 Brooklyn Heights, just at the end of the recession. She lived the priveledged life as daughter of a respected businessman. Her mother, well, she left a lot to be desired. Not finding happiness with her husband, she found it with other men in the neighborhood. The butcher. The baker. The candlestick maker. That's how Adella got started probably. Seeing her mother whore herself off to anything in pants, she probably thought it was okay, common practice. So she began to do the same. It started out innocent enough, but very quickly escalated to the point where she was known as the block tramp - like mother, like daugher. Her father disowned her at 16, kicked her out, told her never to return again. Her mother, ashamed, could only watch as her daughter was turned away from the family. I'm sure that's when a lot of her insecurites began. Young with nowhere to go, no one to depend on. It's no wonder she ended up living the life she did, moving from one man to the next."
All Sonny could do was listen as Ric continued, undeterred by him, by the gun he was holding, not that either posed any visible threat. He was captivated by the other man's words.
"Adella fell in with a bad crowd. Continued her scandalous ways. Got pregnant at 18, but to her luck, had a miscarriage. I guess that child would be the luckiest out of all of us, right? Never had to experience the hurt of abandoment that you and I did. You would think God would prohibit people like that from bringing life into this world, but then, she got pregnant with me. I actually found out that she was going to keep me, had bought a little bassinet to rock her newborn baby to sleep in at night." A muscle in his jaw ticked, the next words already leaving a bitter taste on his toungue.
"And then she met your father. An addict to the game, he never once raised his hand to her, but treated her like shit all the same. So what did she do? Runaway? Find something better for herself? No! She took the easy way out! Delivered me in a bathtub, wrapped me up in old newspaper and THREW ME AWAY! Its a complete miracle that I stand here to tell you this story. If it wasn't for a nosy old neighbor, I never would have been found. And by the time the police knocked on Adella's door, she was long gone, with your father to parts unknown."
This couldn't be right. This couldn't be true. The words continued in marquee through Sonny's mind. Ric was making it all up. There was no way his mother had a child before him. If there was one thing he had shared with his mother, it was an honesty based on the love they had for each other. She would have told him something like this. She would have told him.
"As soon as she can spread her legs again, she's pregnant with you, living the life with her loser boyfriend. But he didn't last for long. Before you were three, he had split too and poor Adella was left all alone to fend for herself and her precious little Michael. Good thing Deke came along though, right? He took real good care of the both of you. The drunken nights that stretched into days filled with anger and beatings. She didn't do much better by you, Sonny. Instead of protecting her own as any normal mother would do, she stuck around for more, stuck around so you could be terrorized by a man who wasn't even your real father."
His shirt stuck to his back and his palms felt slippery, as if dripped in butter. But he knew it was sweat. Sweat that ran hot down the side of his face, down his back, consumed him in a way that he felt like he was drowning. "She would have told me," were the only worsed that escaped Sonny's closed lips. This wasn't true. None of it was true. It just couldn't be.
"When? Between the beatings and the time spent in the closet? Right before family fun night of 'Let's Smack Adella Around'? Don't live in a world of delusion, Sonny. She had nothing to gain by telling you or anyone else for that manner. As far as she was concerned, I was dead and just as easily forgotten as yesterday's trash. She probably took it to her grave that she had left a defenseless little baby in dump outside of her East 100th Street apartment. No one knew." Ric took a breath, his eyes blazing with anger he felt for the woman who was little more to him than an egg donor. "But I found out."
"What do you want from me?"
That caught Ric off gaurd. He moved his hand away from his face, feeling a line of wet, sticky blood trickle down the side of his head, but doing nothing to stop it. "What do I want from you?" His voiced dripped with sarcasm. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing Sonny. I'll admit," Ric began, walking around the couch to meet Sonny head on, "I was interested to know about you. What made you so damn special that she kept you and discarded me. When I learned of the sainted Sonny Corinthos, I thought it was all just a fantasy. You know, those legends you here about but really don't exist? But then I met you. And not long after that, I realized you were the heartless, cold asshole you had been portrayed to be. You've got so many psychotic nuances, its a wonder you manage to keep your business afloat. Then again, many have tried to bring you down. None have succeeded. Until now." Ric stepped forward, his face mere inches from the man he hated with the same passion he despised Adella Risorano.
"I wanted to find Adella so I could rage at her for treating me with as much humanity one would give to a dead animal. And then I found out she was dead and not long after, that she had a living child. A son. I found you and I thought, 'hey, why not try and get to know him. You can't tell your dead mother how much you hate her, but maybe something can be salvaged with your half-brother.' And I tried Sonny. Damn you if I didn't give everything to get into your good graces, if they even exist. I made myself available to you in every way I could. I've been your attorney, your alibi, and your pawn, and still you held me at arms length. I even took a bullet for you and you repaid me with a damn check! I'm by no means a patient man Sonny, and when you didn't let me in, when you treated me like some beggar off the street, I decided to get even.
"I went to Faith and we hatched a plan to bring you down unlike the way so many others have failed to do in the past. And it almost worked, I'll give Faith that much credit. But the little bitch wanted things too fast, and too quick. She got sloppy and the last thing I needed was you coming after me for something that had been her doing to begin with. So when you offered me the chance to exterminate our dear friend Faith, I was more than willing to do your dirty work. Two birds. One stone. Except Faith had other plans. She was going to expose me to you. She was going to pin everything on me in some lavish attempt to save herself. So I came back, told you I couldn't do it, that we needed more time to weed out her silent partner. I set up that meeting with Jacks, hid in the shadows to snap those photos. I found the murder weapon she used to kill Fowler and I provided a solid alibi for your henchman Jason. I did everything with a small glimmer of hope that you would finnaly accept me but I should have known it was all a trap. And then, the icing on the cake. Carly opens her mouth about that night."
Sonny's hands flexed. As if it had materialized out of thin air, his reason for being here came back to him. He raised the gun, but even doing so he still shook with an uneasiness that was becoming more permenant. "You touched my wife. You raped her!"
Ric smiled. "She is a beautiful woman." He watched as Sonny's finger lingered over the trigger. "And as good as it would have been between us, I never touched her. After Carly passed out from whatever Fowler had given her, I undressed her, put her in the bed, and watched her sleep the whole night. What better way to get into your small, closed circle of friends than by using your wife? I just as easily could have called you, told you where we were, and you might have been greatful to me, given me all the praise and worship you bestow on your precious Jason. But I knew that if you found out about my supposed night of sex with your wife, you would loose it. So I watched her sleep and as she began to wake, I slipped into bed with her. She didn't know what hit her. I fully expected her to be angry, to scream and yell, maybe even call the police. But no. She was complacent with the fact that she had just been touched by another man; had just slept with a man that wasn't her husband. As long as you didn't find out Sonny, Carly was more than willing to let the whole night pass as a bad memory."
"She was scared."
This made Ric laugh. "Scared? Of what, exactly? She had only hours before seen you locked in a passionate embrace with your former lover. Only when she found out that had meant nothing to you did it even concern her of the actions she had taken with me. And that's when I dug in, Sonny. Oh, it was brilliant! Dropping small, subtle hints to our night of love. If she wanted me to keep my mouth shut, she would provide me with every opportunity to get closer to you. To find out more about you. It was my solid Ace and I used it until she finally had the guts to threaten my life. I guess some things rub off, huh? She told me exactly what she would do to me if I so much as mentioned one word of the night we spent together and after that, I took the hint. I backed off. But loe and behold," he spoke, raising his hands high in the air, "here we are not because of any of the things I have done to try and destroy you but rather because Carly thought it would benefit her in some way to cry rape weeks after the fact. That wife of yours. She must really be special."
Sonny's heart fell. Only then did he realize that Carly had used what she had believed to be rape as a means to end. Since she knew the child she carried was his, it benefited her to tell him about the night with Ric. She knew of his temper, knew he would be inflamed at the thought of any man touching her in a way reserved only for him. He would get rid of Ric and she would have nothing further to worry about. His head fell down at the knowledge that once again, he had been tricked into believing something that wasn't true. Where did the lies end and the truth begin?
"Don't be too upset," Ric spoke in an all too light tone. He stepped back, walking to the window to stare out, essentially turning his back on Sonny. "I'm sure she loves you. Love is never something that comes without a price. Consider yourself lucky that she kept it from you for so long." He turned around, throwing a disdainful look towards the beaten man before him. "If she had told you any soon, I would be rotting six feet under, and you wouldn't have the priveledge of knowing I'm your long, lost brother."
Which brought them back to the issue at hand. Was Ric Lansing Adella's son? Was the man standing before him really his brother, albeit only by sharing in the same mother? And if he was, how could he justify killing him? Choosing his words carefully, Sonny spoke, "How do you know I believe you?" He stepped forward, the gun still in the air, but now posing more of a detriment to him. It felt so heavy, whether from the fact that he had been holding it so long or that its barrel was trained on a man that claimed to be his mother's son, he didn't know. "How do you know I won't kill you anyway?"
Ric stepped forward, looking Sonny solely in the eyes. "The answer to that is easy enough, Sonny. I'm still alive."
And with those words, Sonny knew he couldn't do it. Everything was a blur to him, the story about his mother, the accusations that they were indeed related. He didn't know truth from fiction and without that knowledge, he couldn't possibly go through with his earlier plan to rid the world of Ric Lansing. He put the gun down. It hung heavily at his side, his finger still wrapped around the trigger, but no power behind it to put it to use. "If this is true..." Sonny began only to be cut off by Ric.
"You doubt me?" Ric tilted his head, just so. " Doesn't really surprise me though. You're a classic doubting Peter. I'm sure in your position, its hard to know what's real and what's not. Go ahead, look it up. Call some contacts. Research my life. Find out what you can. It will only be what I've told you." He walked to the door, removing his coat from the stand that stood nearby. "You know where to find me." And as if none of the past hour had occurred, Ric walked out of the door and into the night.
Sonny stared after him. Within seconds, Ric had disappeared down the long walkway, and soon after, the low hum of a vehicle could be heard as it drove off into the dark night. The gun fell to the floor, the loud thump the only sound in the now quiet room. His heart beat at a pace that felt inhuman. He was covered in sweat and he felt the walls slowly closing in on him. Memories from his childhood assailed him: of the happier times he had spent with his mother; the horrible days when he would sit in the closet and listen to her being beaten, unable to do anything to stop it. Slumping down to the floor, Sonny curled himself into a tight ball, slowly rocking back and forth. It was as if he had gone back in time to when he was eight and locked in that damn closet. "Mama," he whispered brokenly, knowing no one would answer his call just as no one had answered then. And he stayed like that, rocking back and forth, for hours into the night before his eyes closed in a heavy sleep.