She wasn't like other girls

Till Death Do Us Part

A/N: This is my first multi part Claudia fic. Its going to touch on several different pairings. Please let me know what you think, constructive criticism is much appreciated.

Prologue

She wasn't like other girls. She wasn't raised on fairytales, princes riding on white horses to save the fair maiden. There were no daydreams, only nightmares, bloodshed on the carpet, bodies dragged out roughly and hoisted into the back of a car, before disappearing completely. There was no pixie dust in her world, only guns in every drawer, knives at fingertips just waiting to be plunged into someone's back. So why should this matter?

"You don't have to do this, you know."

She looked at the door, a smile that didn't quiet reach her eyes covering her sorrow. Johnny always did that, made it sound so simple. He made Claudia think that maybe, just maybe she could change; maybe she could be someone different, someone better, someone just like all the other girls. "Its okay, John." She wasn't sure if the words were for him or her.

"You look beautiful." He remarked.

Claudia rolled her eyes, moving in front of the long pier glass. "I don't look anything like me." The satin ivory gown hugged her tiny waist before billowing out. Her dark hair hung in loose cascading curls down her back, two clasps in heavy silver dotted with rubies keeping the curls from her face, Maria's veil, with its scalloped Irish lace, making her look soft and angelic. Claudia frowned at her reflection; she looked just like any other girl on her wedding day. And she wasn't, she wasn't one of those romantic waifs, Claudia knew better to believe in things like fairytales and love conquering all. She knew better…

Johnny came to stand beside her in front of the mirror. "I don't know. I think you look like my gorgeous sister." His smiled dropped when he saw her look away, a single tear catching the light. "Hey."

He went to place his arms around her but she shrugged off his embrace, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. As a girl she had always been close to tears, always feeling them begin as a quiver in her chin, as a woman she had learned how to shut down, to become icy and hard, and yet... there were moments when the walls came down. She hated herself for each tear. Claudia Zacchara who knew what real evil was, lived with murder and ate with death, brought to tears over a wedding.

Johnny turned away as she quickly swiped at her tears, as if removing them removed all of her weakness. "Johnny." She spoke to his broad back, even without him looking at her she could feel it; the anger seemed to vibrate off his skin. "Its okay." She ground out the words. "I'm okay."

Her brother turned to face her, frustration bubbling over. "I'm not going to let you do this. If I have to kill the bastard myself, our father has no right to make you do this."

"John, John, John." Claudia grabbed at her brother's arm as he went to walk out. She knew he meant it; he was almost as protective as her as she was as him. She pulled at him, drawing him into her embrace, hugging him close to her, a hand on the back of his head as she spoke into his ear, her face against his. "It's nothing. It's a marriage- a business deal. Look, look. " She drew back slightly, cupping his handsome face with both of her small hands, forcing him to really see her. "You know as well as I do that this isn't real. I'm going to marry Sonny."

"You hate him." John cut in, taking her hands down from his face and taking a step away. Claudia shut her eyes for a moment, the distance feeling more like an ocean than a few feet. "How can you marry someone you hate?"

"Of course I hate him. He almost killed you." For a moment her world started to spin, she dropped her head, her fingertips pushed into her temple, the lace of her veil pressed against her tan skin as a wave of nausea overtook her.

"You okay?"

Claudia brought the back of her other hand against her mouth as she fought against the bile that rose in her mouth. Then the moment was gone, as quickly as it had come. She stood for a moment dazed, on slightly quivering legs. "Yeah. I think I must be coming down with the flu or something." She went to the dresser, picked up her lipstick and compact and started to reapply it.

John snapped the compact shut and tossed it across the room. "It's not the flu. You are sick over this wedding. You don't want to do this, Claudia. Don't do this." There was a plea in his voice that made her soften; she wondered if he thought he was saving her, wrestling her immortal soul from the hands of the devil himself. She wondered if he knew that battle had been long lost, her mistakes nothing but a tangled mess that trapped her, made her this hard woman in front of him. She couldn't go back, she couldn't change. This was all she could hope for now, a bit of power and to stop the blood flow, to keep her Johnny safe.

"It's just a wedding." Claudia reminded him, reminding herself. "People do it everyday. It doesn't mean anything."

"Shouldn't it?" He countered. He didn't see the hurt flash in her eyes, of course it should mean something, in a different world where she believed in love, believed it was possible for her, maybe it would have been different. "Shouldn't it mean something? I don't want this for you. You shouldn't be marrying someone you hate for some sort of stupid business deal. I can't- I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"John, what are you saying?" There was a quiver in her voice, fear clawing in. He couldn't, he just couldn't leave her to do this on her own; leave her in a church with only her father and Sonny, two men that wanted her and wanted her dead.

"I can't, Claudia. I can't." He didn't look back, he couldn't, he didn't want to see her standing there so beautiful, in so much pain. He just walked out and didn't look back.

Claudia stood on weak legs, her world slippery beneath her feet, her hands wrapped around her own stomach. She couldn't do this, not alone. For a moment she thought about fleeing, tearing off the veil and running as far and as fast as she could, but she knew the blood shed that would cause. She rummaged through her silver clutch on the dresser, pulling out her cell phone, she had a little less than an hour before she was supposed to become Mrs. Corinthos. She dialed 6 digits before stopping herself, no he wouldn't come. Another different set of six before snapping the phone closed, she wouldn't risk him, he was too sweet, too fragile; she could already picture her father taking offense to him. With her back to the wall she slid down into a puddle of lace and satin, silent tears streaming down her cheeks, there was no one else, no one.

TBC