Well, I'm going to try posting this here in an effort to get some final feedback before the story goes up on its own website. I'll include the link to the site once it's up- it's graphic intensive and fairly interesting in its own right. This is a final revision of a story that has been posted elsewhere before- it's designed to be accessible to those who don't watch the show and who aren't familiar with the characters. If you like good clean wholesome violence, this is the place for you. All criticism and input will be appreciated- I want to eliminate any last flaws before I chisel this thing into stone. Thanks in advance- Robin.
WARNING- This is not a romance. It is a dark and twisted tale, and there are no white knights to be found. This a story of angst- physical, psychological and emotional. I do things with these characters that you may not like- if there was a theme song, it would be done by Nine Inch Nails!!! The world you are about to enter (or not) is filled with violent, dangerous people who you would not invite over for Mrs. Horton's donuts. If this is not to your taste- don't read it.
Background
In 1983, Roman Brady married Dr. Marlena Evans, a prominent local psychiatrist. The two met when Roman, a police officer, was assigned to guard her from a serial killer known as 'The Salem Strangler'. In October of 1984, the couple had twins, Sami and Eric. Together with Roman's daughter from a previous marriage, Carrie, the family had but a few happy months together before Roman was believed killed in a fight with his nemesis Stefano Dimera. His body was found at the bottom of a cliff by his brother Bo Brady, but disappeared with the tide before it could be recovered. In 1985, a mysterious bandaged stranger showed up in town suffering from amnesia. The good Dr. Evans tried to help the man regain his identity, and during this search, he took the name John Black. Though he had flashes of images from Marlena's past with Roman, there was also evidence that he could be Stefano Dimera himself. In fact, he carried the mark of the phoenix (Stefano's symbol) tattooed onto his shoulder. Despite the confusion, the two found themselves falling in love. Fortunately, evidence surfaced that John Black was indeed Roman Brady, brainwashed and subjected to plastic surgery by Stefano Dimera. Though he never regained all of his memories of his past, Roman and Marlena remarried in August of 1986. Unfortunately, long-term happiness was again denied the family, as Marlena was presumed killed in a plane crash in 1987 (the result of the actions of an old ISA adversary of Roman's called Orpheus- Roman was an agent for the secret government agency before his marriage to Marlena). Marlena's death nearly destroyed Roman, who survived only due to his love for his children. He finally started to rebuild his life, and in 1991 had planned to marry Isabella Tuscano. However, this was interrupted by the return of Marlena, who finally escaped from a mysterious island where she had been held by Dimera- though she had been in a coma for most of the 4 years. Roman and Marlena again renewed their vows, and finally had the happy family life they deserved. This brings us to my story, which begins in 1999- 8 years after Marlena had returned to Roman Brady.
Book I: State of Grace
Chapter 1
He walks through a world gone gray, searching for something he knows he will not find. The sounds of muffled footsteps are his only companions, a mocking reminder that he has made this journey many times before. Always the search is futile. Always he returns.
Peace. He comes to this lonely place seeking peace. Peace, escape, oblivion- it is all one and the same to him now. It has been this way for a very long time. Yet here he is again, looking out over the mist shrouded water. Trying hard to forget. Trying hard to move on.
Isabella is everything a man could ask for. Hope for. Dream for. She is a beautiful woman. A kind woman. A loving woman.
Isabella is the wrong woman and she will never be enough. It is a truth he accepts but refuses to admit.
He watches the fog drift across dark water, silver shadows at play beneath a full moon. The pier whispers to him in the soft murmur of the tide, the creak of weathered wood. The visions are a blur. The words are indistinct. But if he looks very closely, sometimes he can see her. If he listens very hard, sometimes the voice is hers. He will find her on the pier. One way or another, he will find her here some day.
He comes here to forget, but forget he never does. Never could. Never would. He would rather die than lose this last piece of her. He would rather burn than be left with nothing but memories and the quicksilver taunts of the pier. And so burn he does.
His hands clench into fists. As always, he is aware of the empty place where his wedding ring should be. Used to be. Isn't. The pain is still as raw as the day he lost her. The wound is still as fresh. He looks out over the water and pretends he wants to forget even as he picks at the scabs that cover his heart. Why the hell does she call him down here and then leave him all alone? Why did she leave him at all?
He turns from the beckoning water, knowing he cannot answer its call. Not now. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe when the children are older. Not tonight. He plasters a smile on his face and buries his husk of a heart deep inside. An eternity of waiting has earned him enough scar tissue to hide the wound from all but the most prying of eyes. No one sees. No one knows. Not his parents. Not his children. Not Isabella, the woman who will be his wife. Only the pier suspects his secrets, but pier won't tell. The pier will wait, biding its time. He will come back here. He will always come back here. Some dark night, he will decide not to leave. The pier will wait.
The wood groans in protest as he walks to the ladder, loath to let him leave. The mist swirls around him in one last attempt to make him see. Make him stay. His forced smile tugs at stiff lips as he tries to pretend to forget. The fog fights back, the image of Her coalescing. Gaining form. Gaining substance. Approaching reality.
And She is here. She is here, and it no longer matters if she is real. Spirit or flesh, he will not let her leave him again.
"Marlena?" Her name hangs heavy on the night air. A plea. A prayer. He begs. He doesn't care.
Skin on skin, the spell is broken. She is back, 'how' does not matter. White-gold hair brushes his face as silken lips steal the breath from his lungs. He looks down into hazel eyes and he is home. Finally, he is home.
The eyes widen, a sharp gasp escapes the perfect lips. The colors of his world wash away, the glow of sunlight on green seas fading to black as the haze creeps across those eyes. She stiffens in his embrace, her body growing cold even as he clutches her to his chest. He can feel the beat of her heart. He can feel it falter. He can feel it stop. Soundlessly, he pulls his knife from her back, the warm blood dripping down his fingers, making his skin tingle. Almost regretfully, almost reverently, he slips her body into the dark waters. The golden angel sinks slowly from sight, leaving him alone once again.
He looks out over mist shrouded water. He tries hard to forget....
"No! Shit!"
"Roman?!"
With a 'click', the soft light of the bedside lamp chased away the darkness and she turned to find him sitting upright in the middle of their bed. He gasped for air as sweat ran down his bare chest and for a moment she was almost afraid, though she didn't know why.
"Roman? Honey? Are you okay?"
Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. He gave a sharp shake of his dark head and tried to banish the sense of dread that tied his stomach into knots. "Sorry, Doc. A nightmare. Sorry...."
"Well it must have been a doozy. You look like you've seen a ghost! Please tell me you weren't chasing bad guys in your sleep? You do enough of that in your day job," she teased, planting a kiss on his shoulder and hugging him tight. Gradually, she felt his breathing even and the tension ease from his body.
He allowed her to pull him back down to the cool pillows and tried to remember the visions that had disturbed his sleep. The shadowed images darted away from him, staying just out of reach. With a soft sigh, he let them go. "Hey, a guy's got to make a living! But... I'm sorry if I woke you up," he finally said, the sense of unease slowly fading, banished by her touch.
"Mmm, well, we have to be up in a couple of hours anyway," she replied, her finger twirling idly around a curl of dark chest hair. "Tell me what you were dreaming about and I just might forgive you."
"Ah, I'm going to have to earn your forgiveness?" He quirked an eyebrow and with one sudden movement rolled over so that he straddled her slender hips.
"Oh yes," she whispered with a grin, wiggling beneath him just the slightest bit. "You have disturbed my beauty sleep, I believe that it is the least you can do."
"What if I can't remember the dream?" he said, bending over to plant light kisses down the side of her throat.
She bit back a gasp and reached up to trail her fingernails along the line of his rib cage. "Try harder."
"Oh, you want harder?"
"Harder is good," she whispered through smiling lips.
His fingers tugged at the soft material of her nightgown and he tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling as he contemplated her question. "Let's see. Nightmare. We were talking about a nightmare. What could I dream about that might be bad?"
She bit back a laugh as her gown slipped above her hips, refusing to give him any help. Her own hands were busy playing with the waistband of his boxers, and she was amused to see him gulp for air in an effort to continue his explanation.
"Nightmare? Bad stuff? I got it! I must have been dreaming about your cooking! That's it!" he said, looking down on her with a triumphant grin as he finally managed to yank her gown over her head.
Her eyes widened in a close approximation of anger. "Rat! You rat!" Grabbing the pillow beside her, she whopped him dead in the face.
He let the force of the blow carry him backwards, collapsing face-up at the foot of the bed. Lunging upright, she leaped on top of him and pinned his hands above his head. Completely naked, she loomed over him, the most incredible thing he had ever seen. "I love you, Marlena," he whispered, the need to say the words suddenly overwhelming.
A faint blush tinted her cheeks and her smile softened. "I love you too."
"Always?"
"Always."
Holding his gaze, she lowered herself slowly down on top of him. Fingers skimmed across sweating flesh. Breathing quickened. Lips met. And nightmares were forgotten.
****************************************
"So, do you have any plans for the summer?" Roman asked his oldest daughter, as he deftly flipped a blueberry pancake.
"Not really, Dad. I figured I'd catch-up with some friends. Maybe check on getting a summer job at the mall. Right now it's just good to be home. My first year at the university was great- but it's really nice to be home for the summer. I hadn't realized how much I would miss my family," Carrie replied.
"Even your pesky little brother and sister?" Roman joked, as Eric came storming down the stairs.
"Dad, Sami's hogging the bathroom again!"
"Yea Dad, even them," Carrie said with a smile.
"Sami- get out of the bathroom," Roman yelled up the stairs. "I've got to leave for work, and if you want me to drop you at Jamie's, you'd better get a move on!"
Sami ran down the stairs, followed closely by her mother. Roman was struck by the likeness between the two and with a proprietary gaze looked over his tow-headed brood gathered around the kitchen table. Watching as they attacked the stack of pancakes in the center of the table, he briefly debated the need for moonlighting to keep his crew in food. Grinning to himself, he strapped on his shoulder-holster, calling "O.K., who needs a ride?"
Chapter 2
Roman leaned back in his chair, cracked his fingers, and eyed the pile of paperwork distastefully. He missed being a real cop rather than a paper pushing bureaucrat. With a grimace he signed yet another requisition form, not even bothering to read this one. Tilting his head back, he stared at the ceiling and searched for an excuse to hit the streets. His musings were interrupted by a perfunctory knock and Abe Carver strode in. Without waiting for an invitation, Roman's right-hand man took his favored position in the chair set before the cluttered desk.
At first glance, the two men were a study in contrasts. Abe was built like the linebacker he had been in college and he still moved with the easy grace of an athlete. His short cropped hair was already streaked with grey, lending him an air of maturity. Combined with the well-cut suit he wore like he'd been born in and his deceptively mild voice, he could easily play the part of a corporate executive. A really big corporate executive.
Abraham Carver was solid, dependable, the calm before the storm. Roman was the storm itself. The man was in motion even when he was sitting still. He never seemed to relax, only to coil and wait- and waiting was something he had never been very good at. The tie around his neck was there only because his job forced him to wear it and a discerning eye could see his concern that the slight piece of silk was at any moment going to leap up and strangle him. His rangy build was deceptive and in a dress jacket the broad width of his shoulders was concealed, making him appear almost slim. From a distance, Abe was by far the more imposing form. Up close- well, up close to either of the men could be a dangerous place to be.
Their personnel files gave a hint of what had made these two seemingly disparate men the most effective team in the history of the Salem P.D. Both files were filled with commendations and the number of major cases they had solved was too large to bother counting. Even more impressive were the accolades from outside agencies. In Roman's case, some of those agencies were so covert that not even their real names were included in the files. The files explained why Abe was the first black man to rise to the position of Captain in the city of Salem and why Roman was the police Commander though he had yet to see his 40th birthday. Of course, files were just files- pieces of paper that created a reality for outsiders to see. Paper can never really capture the nature of a man.
"Let's go shoot somebody," Roman said, in a tone that might have been joking.
"Hm- I'm not certain, but I think that's against the law," Abe replied, leaning back in his chair and flashing a broad grin.
"Not if it's somebody bad."
"I think you better brush up on the criminal codes in this state, Roman."
"You never let me have any fun," Roman groused, flinging his pen down atop the mounds of unread paper.
"What you mean is, I never let you get into any trouble."
"Same difference. What'd you come in here for, anyway? Volunteering to help me work on the budget for next year?"
Still smiling, Abe shook his head. "No thanks, partner. I've got my own pile of work to wade through. Just came by because I thought you might be interested in seeing the results of the latest lieutenant's test."
That got Roman's attention. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the top of the desk. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense here. How'd he do?"
"Had you any doubt? He was top of the class. Looks like your little brother is in for a promotion."
"Yes! I knew he could do it. Bo's turning out to be one hell of a cop. I always said he had it in him."
"No you didn't," Abe replied, his smile turning wry.
"Well he was pretty wild in his youth, Abe. Somebody had to ride the kid," Roman answered defensively.
"And you rode him pretty hard."
Roman shrugged. "Maybe I was a little rough on him, but we've worked it out. Gotta say, I'm really proud of the man he's become."
"I'd chalk that up to Hope's influence. It's amazing what the love of a good woman can do. I mean, it's really the only reason I can find for your success," Abe teased.
"Hey, my rise to the top was inevitable, partner."
"Well, shit does float...."
The banter was cut short by a sudden intrusion as the subject of their discussion burst into the room.
"Hey, doesn't anybody around here knock anymore?" Roman chided his brother. At the look on Bo's face, he quickly sobered. The younger man was pale, with a glint in his eye that Roman rarely saw. "What's up, bro?"
With a quick nod in Carver's direction, Bo didn't waste time on pleasantries. "That smuggling case I've been working on- I finally got a solid lead. It looks like the base of operations is somewhere down near New Orleans."
"Well, that's great Bo, but it's not exactly a national emergency. What's got you so excited?"
"An informant told me that the head of the ring is a man that goes by the name "The Phoenix". It looks like we finally got a lead on Dimera."
"Dimera."
Roman's voice was flat, cold and dead, betraying no hint of emotion. Abe watched in sudden concern, noting how his friend's hand eased beneath his jacket to lightly caress the butt of his gun. He doubted Roman was even aware of the action.
"Stefano Dimera's dead, Bo," Abe cut in, trying to diffuse the tension that suddenly filled the room. Even as he said the words, he knew that they were a lie.
Roman ignored him completely, staring sightlessly into the air. Bo, true to his nature, spun on his heel. "That's a load of bull and you know it. They never found a body and that man is too damned slick to die so easily."
"Bo, we've never found a body but we've also never found a single trace of the man. Do you really think that all these years would have passed without at least some sign that he was alive?" Though the words were directed at Bo, Abe's eyes remained locked on Roman's still figure. As he watched, the man began to shut down, to shut him out, to leave nothing but a cold fire flickering behind blue eyes gone ice hard. Not for the first time, Abe Carver wished that Bo would learn to think before he spoke.
"No trace? Abe, who the hell do you think took Roman from that island? Who else would have tried to wipe his mind? Taken him from his home? From Marlena? Hell, who else would have held Marlena for all of those years..."
"Are you certain?" Roman snapped, immediately silencing the debate.
"Huh?" Bo looked startled and had to force his attention back to the seemingly calm form of his older brother.
"Are you certain it's Dimera?"
Suddenly uncomfortable, but not certain why, Bo began to fidget. "Well, you know nothing is certain where that man is concerned. But it's a good tip. I'm doing a face-to-face with my snitch tonight- I should know more then. But if I had to bet, I'd say the information's solid."
"I'm going with you. I want to hear this for myself," Roman said, nodding distractedly as if some decision had been made.
"No can do, brother." Bo shook his head. "This guy is real shaky about meeting with me and I've been working on this contact for over a year. Anybody else shows up, and he's sure to rabbit. Let me handle it. I'll give you a report as soon as I'm done."
Roman simply stared at Bo, unwilling to debate the issue. Abe took the opportunity to try and stop a fight before it could start. "Let him go, Roman," he urged. "After all, if you can't trust your brother on something like this, you ought to be able to trust our newest Lieutenant."
As Abe's comment set in, a grin washed across Bo's face. "Why didn't you tell me? You're not joking?" Bo asked, half-worried that the older men were putting him on.
Roman seemed to relax slightly, sitting back in his seat and forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. In a voice that was almost natural, he conceded. "Well, Abe, guess you're right. If I can't trust this to one of my lieutenants, it doesn't say much for my department, does it?"
"Yes! When were you two going to get around to telling me the news?!"
"We were just going to call you when you so rudely barged in," Abe chided.
"We're having dinner with Mom and Pop at the pub tonight," Roman said, his eyes still on Bo. "As soon as your meeting is over, I want you to come by with a full report. And don't say anything to Marlena, or Mom and Pop for that matter, until we are a little more certain what's going on. You understand me, little brother?"
"You got it, Roman. I'll be by a little after 7. We should be able to figure out our next step once we know a little more," Bo replied, once more focused on the job at hand.
"Come on, Lieutenant. We've got some things to discuss before you hit the streets," Abe said, rising from his chair.
Bo nodded agreeably and turned to head out the door.
"Bo, watch your back. You have a wife and son and a baby on the way- don't take any unnecessary risks," Roman called.
"You worry too much," Bo replied with a cocky grin.
"Not for much longer."
The words were so soft, Abe wasn't certain they had been said.
****************************************
Abe Carver slammed shut the door to his office and finally allowed his frustration to show. "I swear, Bo, how you passed the Lieutenant's exam is a mystery to me. You are as thick as a brick sometimes!"
"What's your problem, Abe?"
"That's Captain Carver to you, officer Brady. Now if you want ever want to pin those shiny bars on your lapel, you will sit your butt down and not make me any madder than I am already!"
Almost growling in his irritation, Abe forced himself to take a long slow breath and count to ten. By the time he got to five, the urge to throttle the younger man was almost gone. Propping his hip on the edge of his desk, Abe looked down on Bo Brady and debated over just exactly how much he wanted to say.
"You don't really believe Dimera is dead, do you? I mean, my tip was good, I'm almost positive," Bo blurted out, unable to take the silence.
Abe sighed and found his teeth starting to grind. "No, Bo, I don't doubt that Dimera is alive. What I am starting to wonder about is your IQ. What exactly were you trying to accomplish by telling Roman about a lead on Dimera?"
"What do you mean? Roman hates the guy! After everything Stefano has done- to me, to Marlena, especially to Roman.... Geesh, why do you think I told him about it?"
"Allow me to rephrase- what exactly did you think Roman was going to do once you told him about the lead?" Abe asked, trying to be patient.
"He'll go after him. This time, we're going to nail that son of a bitch!"
"Bo, what happened the last time we clashed with Stefano? Think about it really hard, now. What happened to the Brady family?"
Bo flushed slightly, his eyes dropping to study the floor beneath his feet. "Well- I still think he's the one who took Marlena after the plane crash- but the last time we know for certain it was Dimera was... the island? When Roman got shot, when we thought he died- I guess that's the last time we know for sure Stefano was involved."
"Do you ever wonder what Stefano did to Roman? He had him for almost a year, Bo. Remember when he came back? The man didn't know who he was. Bo, he still doesn't have most of his memory back! The first time he kissed a girl, the first time he saw Marlena, the first time he kicked your butt for being such a dumbass- all of that is just gone. He will never be the same man he was. Stefano took that from him."
Bo's head snapped up, his eyes locking angrily on Abe's. "That's exactly why Roman deserves to know if Stefano is still alive. Dimera has to pay for what he has done to my family!"
"Bo, it's been 8 years since Marlena came back to us. That means it's been at least 8 years since Stefano has shown any interest in Salem or in the Bradys. Do you really want to start this up again? You know how Roman was when he thought he had lost Marlena. You want to risk him feeling that again? All for a threat that hasn't existed for 8 damn years?"
"No- damn, no. You know that's not what I want, Abe! But we could take him this time. We've got surprise on our side, Dimera doesn't know we're on to him. We know how he works, how he thinks. This time, we'll win."
Bo wasn't backing down, his determination as evident as his anger. Abe raked his hand through his hair and shook his head. "Maybe you're right. In fact, you probably are. But have you considered what 'winning' might cost us? Did you even look at your brother when you told him Stefano was alive? Roman doesn't think clearly when it comes to Dimera. Hell, Bo, he doesn't think at all- he just hates. If he goes after Stefano this time, he'll kill him."
Bo shrugged and glanced away. "Roman's a cop. He won't do anything stupid. I mean, I'm a lot more likely to do something stupid than he is!"
Abe grunted a laugh. "Usually true- but not where it comes to Dimera. Look, Bo, you gotta understand, Roman and I were still on the street as partners when Marlena was lost. You don't realize how bad it was- how violent, how lost Roman was."
"I was there too, you know!" Bo shot back. "He was pissed. He had a right to be. But that was a long time ago and he thought Marlena was dead. Marlena is alive and well and back with my brother. Roman is gonna go after Dimera, but he'll do it as a cop."
Abe shook his head in frustration. "No, Bo, you weren't there. Not like I was. Not every day. You didn't.... Look, this doesn't go any further than this room. Understand?"
"Understand what?"
"When he thought Marlena died, it hurt him. It... damaged him somehow. Even after he came back, started working patrol, acted like he'd accepted it- he still wasn't the same. He was so hard, brittle as ice. It was like, without Marlena all he had was this hate, this rage. I watched him, Bo. All the time, I watched him. I wouldn't leave him alone with a suspect, I made sure I always had his back on a bust. I was afraid. Afraid of what he might do- to himself, to somebody else. For a long time, it was like that. A really long time. I finally started thinking I was paranoid, overreacting. I stopped watching so close, I thought he had it together.
"So we go on, working the streets, making the busts. Everything's good. Maybe Roman doesn't laugh anymore. Maybe sometimes I'll catch this dead look in his eyes when he thinks I'm not watching. But life goes on. One night, I get to the station and find out my partner went to check a lead. No big deal, right? I mean, it shouldn't have been a big deal. But I knew something was wrong, I could feel it in my bones. I checked Roman's desk and I found a note, a tip on an old associate of Dimera's. As soon as I saw the note...
"Anyway, I got in my car and I hauled ass to the address. It was a warehouse, down on the docks. The whole time I was driving, I was thinking I'd better call for back-up. But I don't call for back-up because I'm scared of what I might find when I get there. So I creep into this building and it's all dark and deserted and I started to wonder if I was alone. Then the screaming started- just the sound of fear echoing off the walls. It was so damn loud and I couldn't make out any words but I knew that it wasn't Roman doing the screaming.
"I found them in the center of the warehouse. Roman had the guy handcuffed to a chair. There was blood. A lot of blood. Roman had beat the hell out of the guy. I think he even knocked a couple of teeth out. I didn't want to look close enough to be sure. I didn't want to see any more than I had to. I didn't want to know what was happening at all. But it was too late and I was there and I knew.
"Maybe Roman didn't hear me walk in or maybe he just didn't care. Either way, I watched as he put a revolver right to the guy's temple. He didn't say a word as he pulled the trigger. The chamber was empty, but the guy in the chair, he started screaming even louder. I guess that sort of snapped me out of it. I yelled for Roman to put the gun down, to let the guy go. He just turned and looked at me, as calm as I've ever seen him.
"'This fucker knows where Dimera is,' he said, and he cocked the hammer as he said it. 'I'm going to keep pulling this trigger until he either tells me or I blow his head off- whichever comes first.'
"Bo, the guy didn't know anything. He was begging, pleading. He'd have sold out his own mother to make Roman stop. But Roman wasn't stopping. He was going to keep firing until he killed the man- so I jumped him. I wrapped my arms around him and took him down, just as he pulled the trigger on a live round. A second later and the man would have been dead.
"Roman didn't fight me. He didn't do anything, just sort of lay there looking like he didn't care what happened next. I took his gun and left him sitting there while I got the guy in the chair cleaned up. The guy was so scared he wasn't going to say a thing. I found some coke in his pocket- dealer weight. That's a mandatory 10 year sentence. I told the guy he ever showed his face in Salem again, he every told anyone about what had happened, I'd make sure he did those 10 years the hard way. Then I got Roman out of there. I took him home, made him take a couple of weeks off. Had Shawn and Caroline go with him and the kids on a long fishing trip out in the woods. We never talked about what happened, Bo. Roman never said a word to me about it since the day it happened. That was the last time we had a lead on Dimera. I was hoping we would never have another."
Bo sat, staring up at Carver for a long minute. "Roman wouldn't do that," he finally said.
"Roman did do that, Bo. He'll do it again if he gets the chance. You're fooling yourself if you think otherwise."
"He deserves to know. If Stefano is alive, he deserves to know."
"He deserves to be happy. His family deserves to be happy. If he goes after Dimera again, he risks losing everything and everyone he loves. If he goes after Dimera, he could lose himself."
"What do you want me to do?" Bo asked, shaking his head as if still rejecting Abe's words.
"I want you to let it go. No matter what you find out from the snitch, I want you to just let it go. You owe it to Roman. You owe it to the family. Do you think you can do that?"
Bo rose stiffly to his feet. "I need to talk to my snitch. Before I decide anything, I have to hear what he has to say. After that- I don't know."
"You think about it. Think about it hard. You gotta decide, Bo- how high a price are you willing to pay for revenge?"
Chapter 3
"Mm, what smells so good," Carrie asked, walking in the door of the Brady Pub.
"Carrie! It's so good to have you back from school. You're going to have to tell us all about your first year," Caroline cried, rushing over to give her granddaughter a hug. With an efficiency born of many years of practice, she effortlessly herded the children toward the big table in the corner where Shawn was already setting down a pot of his famous chowder.
"Grab a chair everybody, we've got celebrating to do," he called with a grin. "The whole clan is finally back in town!"
Marlena held Roman's arm, smiling as her three children chatted excitedly with their grandparents. Looking up at her husband, she noted for the third time that hour the distant look in his eyes. "What's wrong Roman, you seem a little distracted?" she prodded, knowing his tendency to withdraw from her when he was very angry or very afraid.
"Just a case I'm working on, Doc. Sorry, I'll try and be better company," Roman answered, careful to keep the tension out of his voice. His wife was a hard woman to fool, but that didn't mean he couldn't try.
"Want to tell me about it?"
"Naw, it's probably nothing anyway. But how about you? How was your day? Cure any crazy people?" He smiled as he teased her, suddenly aware of how very lucky he was to have her by his side. He couldn't lose her. Not again. He refused to even consider the possibility.
"Your attempt to change the subject is even more feeble than usual," she said, quirking a brow in a gesture he had always thought of as regal. "Besides, 'crazy' is not a term we psychiatrists use."
"Hm- as I recall, you use the term on me all the time, 'Dr. Evans'." He held the chair out for his wife, chuckling as she slapped him lightly on the arm. Bo walked in the door and Roman's easy demeanor died.
"Well," called Shawn, "One more place at the table! Come grab a seat Bo."
Bo stood in the doorway of the pub looking distinctly uneasy. "Sorry Pops, but I need to see Roman for a minute. Just some work stuff."
Roman gave Marlena's shoulder a quick squeeze and walked wordlessly to meet his brother. The two men exchanged knowing nods and stepped outside, closing the door behind them. Marlena's concerned gaze followed them, every instinct she had screaming to her that something was very wrong. There was something going on and she had a strong hunch that she was not going to like it. If Roman thought he was going to keep it a secret, he had another thing coming.
Roman gazed guiltily through the window of the pub, well aware of Marlena's feelings about secrets. He kept his voice low, as if that might somehow mitigate the deception. "So what's up, Bo? Did your snitch confirm that the smuggling operation is Dimera's work?"
Bo shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at his older brother. "It didn't pan out. Looks like we got bad intel. Sorry, Roman- I really didn't mean to get your hopes up about this."
"You sounded pretty sure about it this morning. What the hell went wrong?" Roman snapped, his anger flaring unexpectedly.
"Hey, I told you this wasn't a sure thing. The snitch couldn't tell me anything. It was a bust. It happens. What do you want me to say?" Bo shrugged defensively and started edging in the direction of his bike.
"Hold it right there, Bo Brady. You think I'm going to accept such a lame-assed report, you better think again. I want to know exactly what happened at the meet, down to the last detail."
"The snitch was dead, Roman," Bo replied, his voice subdued. "When I got there, he was dead. It was the only lead and now it's gone."
"What? You weren't going to mention this to me?" Roman hissed. "What exactly happened to the snitch?"
"I got to the meet and he didn't show. I went outside to look around, and, well.... Forensics is over there now. I found him hanging from a hook outside the warehouse. It looks like he was beaten to death. I think somebody cut his tongue out. If I had to guess, I'd say somebody was sending a message"
"Christ! I knew I should have gone with you! This has Dimera's name written all over it!" A smile that Bo didn't like crossed Roman's face, but the older man was oblivious to the scrutiny.
"Look," Roman continued. "I know it's late, but can you get me a full report on everything you know, everything that you suspect, by morning? Have the department make me a plane reservation. I'm going down to New Orleans tomorrow."
"It's a bad idea, Roman. There's no proof that Dimera was involved. I doubt it's even him down in New Orleans. Why not just alert the locals, have them look into it?"
"Dimera belongs to me, Bo. I'm not going to let him slip away this time. Not again. Make the reservation, I want to be there tomorrow."
"Why don't I make it two reservations? You could use the backup. Besides, I love creole cooking."
"No way, Bo. Hope will have my head if I take you with me on some wild goose chase in Louisiana. This is just a scouting trip, I can handle it on my own. I don't want to get everyone upset until we know more of what's going on."
"Hope won't mind. Heck, she'll probably be glad to have me out from underfoot for a few days. I really think I should go with you Roman- you need someone you can trust."
"You're kinda insistent about this, aren't you little brother?" Roman asked, his eyes narrowing in sudden suspicion.
"It's just that the New Orleans P.D. doesn't exactly have the best record when it comes to corruption, and you know that wherever Dimera is, he'll have contacts within all of the important agencies. It's too risky for you to go alone. If something happened.... Roman, I'm the one who got the tip. I'm the one who should go."
"I'm the Police Commander, I say who should go. I go and I go alone, end of discussion."
"Marlena won't like it," Bo replied, playing his trump card.
"You threatening me, little brother? I wouldn't suggest it," Roman said, his voice flat and hard.
"I'm not threatening anything, Roman. I just meant- well, you are planning on telling her, aren't you?"
"What I do or do not tell my wife is none of your business. And I don't need you or Abe playing mother hen. You can convey that message to your Captain. Comprendes?"
"I'm just worried about you, okay? So sue me," Bo replied, irritated to be read so easily.
"Don't worry- and that's an order," Roman said, softening his words. "Look, if we both go down there, Marlena and the kids are sure to get suspicious. I don't want them worried until I know for sure there is something to worry about. It took this family a long time to heal from the wounds Stefano left. Marlena still has nightmares and the kids.... Hell, I want my kids to have some semblance of a normal life. I don't want them looking over their shoulders, wondering if someone is watching. Wondering if one day their family is going to be ripped apart again. I won't put them through that until I have good cause.
"Bo, I promise to keep my head down- just check out the scene, see if I can catch a whiff of Dimera's handiwork. I'll be back within the week and then we can sit the whole family down, let them know if there's cause for concern. I don't want to put them through that without good reason. I'm not going to do anything to put the family at risk, Bo. I just want to sort things out before I make any plans."
"You promise you aren't going to do anything stupid?"
"Anything like what?" Roman asked with feigned innocence.
"Anything like play Russian roulette with some snitch's head. Anything like cold-blooded murder. You know- anything like that," Bo challenged.
"Abe talks too much," Roman said gruffly.
"He's worried about you. It kinda sounds like he should be."
"That was a long time ago and I thought Marlena was gone. It was not one of my finer moments."
"That wasn't exactly the promise I was looking for."
"It's the closest thing you're gonna get right now."
Peering through the shadows, Bo tried to read his brother's face. He wondered if the crooked grin was meant to be reassuring. If it was, it failed miserably. "I still think it's a lousy idea," he finally muttered. "If you aren't back within the week, Abe and I are coming down to get you."
"Your faith in me is touching," Roman said dryly, slapping the younger man's shoulder. "Now, how about we stop making trouble where none exists? Come on in and have dinner with the folks."
"I'd like to, but I'd better get home to Hope and Shawn D. Besides, I've got to make sure everything's set for tomorrow." With an uneasy nod to Roman, Bo turned and disappeared into the night.
Roman watched until Bo was lost to the darkness, his thoughts drifting back to the bad times when he thought Marlena was gone. He had almost forgotten the incident in the warehouse, but then again, he didn't remember much of the long years he had spent without her. He didn't want to remember, the pain of it something he could do without. Trust Abe to remember. That's what came of working with a man so closely that you grew to read each other's minds. Abe had pulled him through that rough time, maybe even more than his family had. Abe had been there. Always, Abe had been there. When the hate had burned so bright that it threatened to blind him, when the only thing that seemed to offer relief was to lose himself in violence, Abe had held him back. Roman had known that Abe would be there, backing him up no matter what he did. He might have been willing to throw his own life away, but he had refused to drag his partner down with him. Men had lived who would have otherwise died, all because his partner had known enough not to trust him.
Roman chuckled grimly, recognizing that once again, his partner didn't trust him. Of course, once again, his partner was right. Stefano Dimera was a dead man. Roman wouldn't leave the bayou without seeing his blood.
Leaning against the side of the building, Roman watched through the windows as his family talked and joked and laughed. The words were lost to him, but the emotions came through loud and clear. He was blessed and he knew it. His mother caught him staring and waved him in, the smile on her face not quite disguising the concern in her eyes. Having two cops for sons had taught her to be wary, and he hated fact that he caused her worry. He flashed her a grin even as he wondered what she would think if she knew his plans. His Catholic guilt should have been gnawing at him, but it wasn't. Stefano's death would be one sin he would not repent. His smile broadened at the thought, and he opened the door with only one concern still nagging. Killing Stefano would be a pleasure. But lying to his wife, that was something else entirely.
****************************************
"It was nice having everyone together for dinner," Marlena said, sitting down on the edge of their bed and running a brush through her long blond hair.
"Mm hm," Roman muttered vaguely. He finished tying off a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and slipped beneath the cool cotton sheets. Propping his head on his arms, he lay still and permitted himself the privilege of watching his wife. He loved her little rituals at the end of the day. Hell, he loved everything about her. He would die before he would lose her again. Stefano Dimera was a threat, and so Stefano had to go.
"Too bad Bo couldn't stay," she continued, ignoring his refusal to play her game. "Why did he come by? That case you were worrying about earlier? You know- the one you wouldn't tell me about."
"Subtle," he replied, grinning despite himself.
"You're going to tell me about it now, though- aren't you?" She dropped the brush on the nightstand and flipped off the light. Easing across the bed, she tucked herself in beside him. Her head nestled comfortable against his shoulder, she draped her arm across his chest and whispered in his ear. "My dear and loving husband would never try and keep secrets from his wife, now would he?"
"He would if he thought he had a prayer of succeeding," he whispered back.
"But my husband is not so foolish as to think such a thing, is he?"
Her laughter tickled his ear, the almost-touch making his skin ache. With a soft sigh, he surrendered. "No, your husband is not that foolish. It's just, I didn't want to upset you. I wanted to try and enjoy the first night out with Carrie. I'm sorry, babe, but it looks like I might have to leave town for a couple of days. I know the timing's bad, but...."
She pulled away from him, the sudden movement stopping him short. Rolling over to face him, she searched for his face in the darkness. "Anytime would be a bad time to leave, Roman. We haven't been apart since... we haven't been apart in years. I don't want to start now."
He cursed under his breath, his fingers reaching out to find her cheek. "Hey, Doc. Don't get upset on me, here. It's just a day or two and then I'll be back. It's important. Really."
"Important as in dangerous? Roman, police commanders do not run around on assignments! They sit at desks and they come home in time for dinner!" Fear made her words harsh and she almost wished she could take them back.
"It's not dangerous, honey. I promise you, it's not. Just a fact finding trip. The case is really important to Bo. I told him I would check it out for him."
"If it's Bo's case then let Bo go on the trip."
"I hate arguing with you. You do realize that?"
"Then don't go," she replied, and he felt her body shift away from him in the big bed.
"Marlena, Hope is 6 months pregnant! I don't want Bo going out of town right now. You know I'm right about this."
"Roman Brady, you are in charge of an entire police force. I'm certain that if you put your mind to it, you could come up with at least one person you could send in your place."
Her tone could have caused frostbite and he grimaced, wondering just what it was he was doing that was so wrong. If he weren't such a lying sack of shit, he might have been mad. As it was, he was merely frustrated. "Doc, it's Bo's first case as a lieutenant. He wants to do a good job, make a good impression. He's the one who wanted to go down to New Orleans- talk with their detective division and get some intel on a smuggling operation he's working on. I'm the only one he would let take his place, largely because I can order him to do it."
"Bo made lieutenant!" she said, her voice softening.
"Yea," he said with a chuckle. "Being a cop must run in the blood."
Marlena sighed and let herself be tugged back down into the comfort of his arms. "Just my luck, marry a guy who carries a gun."
"It just makes sense for me to go down there, babe. You see that, don't you?"
Her hand crept across his chest, seeking its rightful place above his heart. "I'll miss you," she finally said.
"I'll miss you too." Holding her in his arms, he stared into the darkness and listened to her breathe. He was still listening when the first rays of sunlight washed through their room.
Chapter 4
"What? What is it?" he asked, catching her staring at him as he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped through the bathroom door.
"Hm- oh, nothing. Just thinking that you never use that lovely robe I got you for Christmas," she replied. A faint smile curved her lips as she watched him walk across the floor. His skin was still damp from the shower, the steam following him into the room as he strode quickly past her. Without a doubt, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.
As if reading her thoughts, his cheeks flushed a faint pink, and she knew that he could feel her eyes following his every move. He was such a little boy in so many ways. Of course, in other ways....
"What?!"
"Nothing!" She tried to look innocent, but the laughter bubbled up despite her best efforts.
"Is this about last night?"
"What about last night?" she asked, her face a study in innocence.
"Women!" he muttered, turning his back on her in an attempt to ignore her stare. He fumbled around for a pair of matching socks and tried to pretend she wasn't there.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her breath sliding across the damp skin of his neck in a way that made his entire body shiver. One slender arm curled around his waist as the inviting heat of her plastered itself to his back.
"You're forgiven," he croaked.
"It's just, I seem to be suffering from a very severe case today."
"Severe case of what?" He heard his words from a distance, the blood roaring in his ears as her hand played with the knot that held the towel closed.
"Penis envy- a very severe case indeed."
"You could borrow mine," he grunted, his hips jerking forward as if eager to share.
"What'll it cost me?"
"What do you got?"
She chuckled, her teeth skimming down the side of his neck as the towel dropped to the floor. Her left hand circled his chest, teasing lightly across one dark nipple. With slightly more pressure, the fingernails of her right hand scrapped the sensitive skin of his groin.
"Deal," he wheezed out as every red corpuscle in his body raced to the beckoning call of her fingers. A low moan that spoke of nothing but need leaked from his throat and he turned in her arms. He tugged at her dress, trying hard to resist the urge to simply rip it from her body. He could never get enough of her. Never. The more he had, the more he wanted.
"Don't leave me," she moaned, even as he pushed her down on the bed and pulled the nightgown over her head.
"Could never leave you. Never. I'll be back. I swear it."
His words hissed in her ear, more threat than promise. Their meaning was lost before it could be found, her hips arching from the bed as practiced hands stroked her slender thighs. Soft lips swallowed her cries, the two of them moving together as one single being. It was only much later, when he rose on trembling legs and turned away from her, that she realized they weren't.
"You're still going?" she said, pulling her nightgown to her as if the thin silk could replace his warmth.
The muscles in his back clenched and when he spoke, his words were cold. "You have to ask?"
"Yes- I do. What aren't you telling me, Roman?" She slipped from the bed, cornering him against the bureau when he tried to walk away. When she put her hand to his chest to stop him, he flinched from her touch.
"Tell me," she repeated.
"You worry over nothing," Roman muttered. "There's nothing to tell."
"Don't lie. It doesn't suit you." Reaching out, she forced his head up until he had no choice but to meet her gaze. "Tell me."
"I'll be back," he finally said, pulling gently free of her grip. "I'll be back, that's not a lie."
"Don't do this, Roman. We couldn't survive without you."
"You survived without me once before," he snapped, his voice suddenly hard. Her face went pale and he cursed his own stupidity. "I'm sorry! God, Doc, I'm sorry." He circled her resisting body with his arms. "I didn't mean...."
Shaking her head frantically, she pushed away from him and he let her go. "We did not survive without you! We waited for you, Roman Brady! I waited for you." Dashing away the tears from her cheeks, she locked her eyes on his. "I would be waiting for you still."
"I know, babe. I'm sorry," he said, taking her hands gingerly into his own. "I was just.... You think this doesn't make me angry? You think I want to leave? I have to do this Marlena and you fighting me on it just makes it harder. I just... you know I can't fight with you. I didn't mean what I said. I was an ass and I'm sorry."
"You were an ass," she said with a grim nod.
"I know."
"And mean. You were mean, too."
"I'm sorry I was mean. I'm sorry I was an ass." He hung his head and looked up at her, finally coaxing the slightest smile from her lips.
"And those socks don't match."
"You're pushing it," he said with a crooked grin.
"You deserve it," she replied, her smile echoing his.
"I know," he said softly, pulling her to him.
Resting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes and tried not to be afraid. "I must love you a lot to put up with you."
"I know," he repeated, rocking her gently. After a long moment, she turned her head and looked up at him.
"If you aren't back in a few days, I am going to hunt you down and kick your butt."
"I know that too."
****************************************
Roman jogged down the stairs, still not certain if he were forgiven. A rapidly dwindling stack of French toast greeted him and he quickly snagged a chair and a glass of juice.
"You're a little late this morning. Busy night?" Carrie teased, raising a spatula in salute.
Roman blushed and shot his eldest child a dirty look. "Sounds like someone's growing up a little too fast. Maybe we should bring you back home for a few years rather than let you stay in that coed dorm you were telling us stories about last night."
"No way- I am not going back to sharing a room full time!" Glaring across the table at her father, Sami raised a fist in mock warning.
"You're dressed kinda casual. Going on a stake-out today?" Eric asked, ignoring his sisters entirely. Their curiosity piqued, all three kids focused their attention on him.
"Sorry guys, nothing nearly so dramatic. I just have to take a little plane trip down to New Orleans and I'd rather travel in comfort."
The awkward silence stretched out indefinitely, and Roman came to the belated realization that Marlena was not the only one likely to disapprove of his little trip.
"It's just for a couple of days. It's just meetings, nothing dangerous," he continued casually, painfully aware of the fact he hadn't considered the children's reactions.
"Do you have to go Dad?" Sami finally asked.
"Yes kiddo, it's an important meeting. Don't worry guys, this isn't even field work. I promise I'll be back by the time you two have your learner's permits, if that's what's got you worried," he said, trying to lighten the tension. "Really, I'm not doing this to avoid teaching you two how to drive. Really, that's not it, I would never do such a thing!" His sarcasm finally elicited faint smiles from the twins, but Carrie didn't look convinced.
"Are you sure it will be okay dad?" Carrie asked.
"Positive punkin- I'll be back in no time, I promise you. Now, enough of this. Give your old man a hug and let me get out of here. I've got a plane to catch and some reports to go over before I do. Come on- group hug," he said grinning. He gathered the three of them up in his arms and held on, maybe a little tighter than normal.
"Love you guys, and I promise to bring back presents," he said, kissing each on their forehead. He let go, stepping back to see Marlena watching him fondly, a faint smile on her face that could not quite hide the worry in her eyes.
"Let me walk you to the door, lover. I want to see you for as long as I possibly can," she said, slipping an arm about his waist.
At the door, she turned him to face her, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Promise me, promise me on our love...you will take care and you will come home to me."
Roman pulled her into a tight embrace, forcing himself not to squeeze too hard. For an instance he wavered, wanting nothing more than to go back inside his home and forget that Stefano Dimera had ever existed. Running his fingers through her hair he breathed in her scent, memorized the feeling of her skin beneath his fingers. He wouldn't risk her. He couldn't risk her. Stefano Dimera alive was a risk, and a risk to her could not be tolerated.
"I promise you, I will be fine," he finally said. "I love you, Doc. Nothing and no one could keep me from coming back to you. Back to you, our children, my family- you are my life. Never doubt that." He felt the pain his words caused her, the hurt his leaving brought. Ducking his head, he broke their embrace and walked steadily to his car. He never looked back. If he looked back, he knew he wouldn't leave.