Welcome to the Panic Room
show: Young and the Restless
central characters: Sharon Collins, Phyllis Summers, Victoria Newman, Nikki Newman.
disclaimer: Nothing is mine except the plot and creative license I take with it. All characters are the property of the CBS, Sony and the Bell family. Any characters not recognized are mine. Nothing done or written is for profit, just for entertainment.
summary: Sharon. Victoria. Nikki. Phyllis. They're all monsters. / Or, a Murder Coven anthology [AU]
note: I was just goofing off on Twitter and pondering how these unlikely four women are tied to murder and then my imagination went off and this happened. JT's murder and Tessa's kidnapping is the launching point, but there's more dark stuff that will be explored. This will be four parts. Enjoy, and as always, I'd really appreciate your feedback and reviews.

Part I
Sharon Collins:
"The Heart of the Matter"

There's a crackling of electricity in the air and she's the only one who could feel it.

It's not just cold outside, but just as chilly inside as Sharon looks from Victoria to Nikki. There's a sharpness in Nikki's eyes that can cut even her after all these years. It all has to stop. Absolutely. She agrees as Victoria's eyes accuse her of wavering.

"Mom and I will handle this, if you're going to develop a conscience now, Sharon."

There's a name rattling around in their minds and another on the tip of their tongues. It's a silent scream, the muted sound of a heavy body hitting carpet. In her nightmares, it's a vast area of soil and dirt where her eyes can see no beginning or no end. Her heart hammers in her chest, blood rushing in her eyes while her body and mind instinctively readies itself to fight whatever remains out there. That name still remains. It's the slight of a hand from its prison of cool soil, hands that remind her of those that yanking on puppet strings. The puppets are broken women, damaged women and sometimes, men filled with shame that twist on the ends of those of strings too. Sharon sees they can be strong as steel or as fragile as those holding a spider web together.

"Somebody has to. The both of you aren't thinking," she protests, evenly, unable to keep the edge out. Apprehension coils itself around her stomach and makes her feel as if she walks across a tightrope and can fall. She can fall, but she'll catch herself and balance until she aches. Just like Sharon balances her love for Mariah and her disdain for Tessa. "No," she exhales, gripping onto sanity because Victoria and Nikki neglect it.

"No?" Victoria questions, with a raised brow.

"No," she says, again, more forcefully. "We can't assume Tessa did this. You neutralized her, Victoria. You said you believed her. Her long-term scam is over. Tessa didn't do this. She's fearful enough."

"Did she tell you that?" sneers Nikki. "Did she cry a little, make herself the wounded bird and find a way to reach that bleeding heart of yours? Before you get into your righteous outrage, you need to consider that she's lived with me, lived with you and made two of your children her marks."

"Don't talk to me like I don't think that, Nikki. No matter how I feel about Tessa, I can't be part of this. Whatever you two are planning to stop her, count me out."

"You've been part of this for months. The night you brought margaritas over here, you've been part of this," Victoria says finally, as if stepping out of a mental fog. It's like emerging from a dark haze that leaves her stance purposeful and her movements in intentional. Her eyes remind Sharon of a storm. The kind of storm that turns a calm sea into a weapon of nature, leaving all vessels and people at its mercy. Sharon knows that some abuse survivors destroy themselves. Other times, they want to destroy others. Something's changed in Victoria, she observed. It's like a switch, pre-JT and post-JT and she's watching this woman wrestle with something dark, and foreign against what is familiar. She knows what it's like especially with her share of mistakes and the bipolar disorder that will colour and contour every facet of her life. "Girl's Night was your idea."

Nikki shakes her head and laughs sardonically, "You're talking as if we're going to have her killed."

"Because that's not in your skill set? You own the strip club you danced in while young women work for you and they idolize you. It's twisted! JT died because he was hurting Victoria, I'll give you that one, but you kill people," Sharon argues. "If anyone is in the way or crosses a Newman, they die. That's how things work. You and Victor let everybody know that!"

"Damn right, we do," she hisses, eyes defiant. "First of all, stripping is sometimes all these girls have, and I take care of all of them! They are people, not just employees!" Nikki sniffs. "It's not my problem Mariah didn't have the sense to let Tessa know. I know a couple of girls that would love someone like Mariah... I would think as her mother, you'd want that."

"I do—"

"Enough!" Victoria yells so loud it almost bounces off her walls and could rattle her house. "This is a waste of time. Maybe Tessa did lie to me. Maybe she didn't, but it doesn't sit right with me. It's worse for her than if she had set the stable fire and framed Dad."

Nikki softened and touched her daughter's arm. "What are you saying, sweetheart?"

"I'm saying that Tessa is one giant question mark now, Mom," Victoria answers, and Sharon finds herself locking gazes with her again. There is resolution. An answer, and the sound of a gavel hitting a bench or the sharp noise a blade makes when dragged across flesh. "Knowing what you know now, make a choice, Sharon. Are you in or out?"

—

There's a pill every day to even out the chemical imbalance in her brain. There's a therapist once a week to speak about the pendulum that swings and never stops. There's family and friendships for Sharon to be grateful for, and there's her own sense of hope that makes her motivated to always be better and do better. But she knows. She knows the darkness that ensnares her. With every client that comes through the doors of the GCPD, Sharon fixates on their situation and who bears the responsibility for causing this magnitude kind of pain. She sees herself in the withdrawn teenager, sexually assaulted and not sure of what to do with her baby. She sees herself in the divorcee who goes from having everything to being left with nothing but a bruised lip, a fading black eye, and questions of her future even as she smiles graciously at Sharon while hiding her trembling hands and tearful hazel eyes. With every victim report Sharon focuses on filling out for Rey, her preoccupation with the perpetrator grows. It rattles her nerves more than coffee can and through a mask of objectivity is a person who is human – just like her.

Sharon flips through the police report and the perpetrators materialize into people. Robert "Bobby" Carrington, a high school senior at GC High with potential and college prospects a new baby will destroy. Alejandra Contreras, an entry level high school teacher who abuses her partner under the pressures of work, an addiction that acts like a third spouse – a vortex.

Her empathy says she's doing the right thing and says she's working toward social justice.

The depression claws its way in and makes her question why people like Bobby and Alejandra will get justice that is neither fair or swift. Her mania, frantic and leaving her anxious, swings the pendulum again. It's steady and then picks up speed in time with Sharon's skipping heart.

Sometimes, justice means erasure.

Kill these monsters, Sharon. Someday, kill them both.

—

The brunette folds her arms and pins her with a look that send a shudder up her spine but Victoria doesn't scare her. Neither does Nikki. "My son came home from school a week early and wants answers. Answers I can't give him because they will break him either way. His father victimized his mother and his grandmother killed him in self-defence and then dumped his…corpse," the icy façade melts when Victoria takes in a shaky breath. Sharon hears the way her voice splinters. She pauses, and then hardens as quickly as Sharon blinks. Victoria intones, seriously, "Tessa is still in play. You can leave. I've always worked better without distractions, but for your own sake, you'd be better off helping us."

Sharon glances from mother and daughter and then thinks.

Tessa isn't a threat. She's sure she doesn't move JT's body or is working with anyone else, because that girl knows what danger is and would not be so foolish as to put herself in terror she is no stranger to.

Her daughter loves a con artist, and her son is forever her mark.

"Sharon!" Nikki snaps.

"What?" she snaps back, suddenly angry although she can't place its roots. It's from some quiet place within Sharon can't be introspective to look for right now. Maybe she will look within and make peace with it. Be disgusted with it, or peacefully co-exist. Sharon looks at Victoria and then Nikki. Her mind is made up. She takes a deep, cleansing breath for herself, more than anything. "Okay, I'm in. Only because I'll need answers for myself."

"Good. I'm glad you see reason. I've already let Phyllis know what's happening. She's too busy keeping her ass planted in the CEO chair over at Jabot tonight – whatever that means," Victoria explains as if breaking down the agenda of a board meeting after a pause. "I have to take care of something. Give me a minute."

She grabs her car keys and gives them to her mother. Nikki accepts them while Victoria says she'll be right back and heads up towards the stairs. It's Billy's night with the kids. He mentions that in passing at another impromptu meeting of the Wounded Hearts Society. He's a great friend since the seismic destruction of their relationships with Nick and Phyllis leave them raw and yet navigating aftershocks together. Victoria could use that.

Sharon watches Victoria's form disappear, and looks over to see Nikki watching her daughter the same way, worry in her face.

"For 250,000, Tessa set my daughter back. Unbelievable."

Sharon isn't speaking to Nikki like the woman she spent almost twenty-five battling for one reason or another, but as an observer. She sees a fearful mother underneath her venom. Everyone sees it but it's only in whispers and in passing glances only those who love Victoria truly understand. She's harder. She's more detached, more calculating, more ruthless than usual and any glimpses of warmth are rarer now.

"I…don't think she's okay, and it's beyond what trauma occurred because of JT."

Nikki sighs. "Something has broken in my daughter," she looks at Sharon, eyes shining with regret despite doing everything she can. It's what moms do. "I know she isn't, but she will be because as her mother, it's my duty."

She thinks of the three children she's obligated to protect until her last breath.

And then Sharon thinks of Cassie, the child she knows will stay just shy of fifteen.

—

"Victoria!" she calls, her voice travelling upstairs. After all, it's time sensitive. It's time sensitive for her sanity. The quicker this gets done, the easier she can deal with why two strangers won't let her go. If Nikki and Victoria are taking some control of this, she might as well herself. One of her baristas texts her to let her know Mariah is there and is thinking of breaking up with Tessa tonight. Eliza tells her Mariah's with a friend, but waiting. "Are you okay up there?"

"Give me a minute. I'll be down!"

Sharon taps a reply, thanking her and promises her paid days off.

"Okay," she turns to Nikki, "Mariah's at Crimson Lights."

"Good. Tessa's at home," Nikki discloses, with a smirk which makes Sharon sigh, almost exasperated. Sharon thinks, of course. Of course, Nikki knows that. It's not just Victor's eyes that roam this little town. She explains. "One of my girls live in her apartment complex."

Victoria comes bounding downstairs, and hands her a black bag and a mid-length rope. Sharon doesn't miss in the black gun in Victoria's hands, a silencer screwed into the barrel of the weapon. She watches Victoria push a magazine with the heel of her hand and make the gun disappear into the waistband of her jeans before rearranging her jacket and buttoning it.

Sharon glances down at the black bag and rope in her hands and then them.

This is happening. This is actually happening. When does Victoria become the type of person to carry a gun? When does she become the type of person to become comfortable with one and develop an expertise that almost seems lethal?

"Wait!" Sharon says, eyeing Victoria. "I know you went through terrible things…"

"What now, Sharon?"

Victoria looks at her annoyed just like her mother. Mirrored expression, really. She deadpans, "I hadn't noticed."

"You were never the kind of person to keep a gun in the house."

"I wasn't the kind of girl to kill my father with a lamp because he tried to rape me either."

"Sharon, I hate guns," Victoria states simply, after her mother. It's two of them against her. It's normal to her because it's always the girl from a poor crime-ridden area of Madison versus the women from the upper crust high society. A quarter of a century doesn't erase that divide, but it blurs it, makes Sharon stand in Nikki's shoes. Victoria continues as she contemplates how she is tied to these women through more than just children who are cousins, overlapping of marriage, divorces – every possible thing underneath a sun they are flying way too close to. "I loathe them, but I realized that I hated feeling JT's hands around my neck more. I hated realizing I hid my bruises, and then accepted his proposal. Then with every passing day, I loved him and wanted to kill him. I'd wake up and as he slept, figure out how I'd do it. I will never know what twisted JT so badly, it had to come to…that, but we can't go back. Just forward. This is bigger than us and we have to contain it now," and then a wry smile lands on her lips and it doesn't reach the eyes filled with steely resolve. "My kids and I will be safe. I learned archery in boarding school. A firearm is effortless for me. I'm a skilled shot, contrary to popular belief. Anything else?"

"Victoria, sweetheart, you don't have to do anything else today if you're up for it."

"I'm fine. I started with Tessa. I have to see it through."

"Alright. Let's get this over with. The quicker we do this, the quicker we can get answers," Sharon hears herself say, resolutely and becomes aware of the black bag and rope in her grasp and follows Victoria and Nikki out through the garage.

Before Sharon leaves the house, she glances around again.

She sees a fire poker, a new one. It gleams like the blade of a sword and the shadows that slink across Victoria's walls reappear and move as if they belong.

—

Sharon finally understands. Victoria. Nikki. Phyllis. They're all monsters and so is she.

As she slides in the back seat, Sharon sees the swing of the pendulum in her mind again. It's not powerful movement. It's gentle as if moved by wind and she's determined to make it still. Balance. Equilibrium.

She suppresses a shiver as she remembers. Sharon remembers as a young newlywed, back when the Newman name and power is intoxicating. She remembers being with her mother as she gasps for breath and playing the part of the frantic daughter. It's not really a part, in theory. Sharon remembers wondering if her paraplegic mother's wide eyes beg her for mercy, for one more day at life or if they thank her for ending the nightmare with one air bubble into her IV and to the heart. Then Doris Collins flatlines as doctors work to save her and that question hangs in the air as long the sound of the machines calling her mother's time of death. Complications from corrective spinal surgery exacerbated by diabetes. Congestive heart failure, the autopsy says as her mom's cause of death.

At least her mom doesn't have to struggle anymore.

Sharon makes her mother is taken care of in death better than in life with the nicest casket money can bury and the freshest daisies to adorn it. She makes her mom's pain stop, and makes the suffering go away. It's the right thing. It's why Sharon loves social work. She loves meeting new people and seeing there is always the one person broken, but never beyond repair. There is always the one person carrying a little pain than the others. Sharon can stare into the eyes of one person and see they're a little haunted and wild as they look everywhere but her. She understands. Sometimes, Sharon hears the walls of the interrogation room breathe and sees them close in too.

It's the byproduct of trauma and individuals are more a product of their environment. She knows this of Tessa, witnesses it first hand when she puts herself on the line to rescue Crystal from a life that isn't one. Then again, Tessa Porter is a chameleon.

Sharon sits in the back of Victoria's car, windows slightly frosted.

Her thoughts are the same. Cold makes everything more vivid and saturates her every thought with clarity. They become sharper with what has to do, the purpose is. If Mariah refuses to see it and Sharon will do everything to make her daughter see it herself.

The car slows to a stop and both Victoria and Nikki turn around to look at her in the dark.

"Here," Nikki says, revealing a small silver tranquilizer gun retrieved from her purse. Sharon takes it. "There are two shots in there."

"Why two?"

"One to knock out Tessa, and another to get rid of any…obstacles."

"Oh… that's thorough."

Sharon's eyes move to scout the area before pocketing the tranquilizer gun discreetly in the side of her jeans. She makes the decision to leave the rope and bag behind. If the super can buy Victoria as Mariah's aunt, she can slip by as Mariah's mother, a mother who wants to see how her daughter is doing in her new apartment.

"Sharon," Victoria calls to her as she opens the door. "Thank you."

She nods in response and turns to look outside, a biting wind winding itself in between the tree branches stripped bare.

"I'll be back in five minutes. Maximum. Just get Tessa in here without any trouble."

Sharon closes the car door and takes purposeful steps of her own forward.

Save your daughter, Sharon, a disjointed voice demands in a rough whisper. Save Mariah.