Humpty Dumpty
A hesitant knock on the door, she'd hesitated so many times between here and Port Charles. The only thing she was sure about was that she'd had to leave.
"You lied. You changed the test results."
"Jason—"
"Screw Jason and screw your Goddamned intentions, Sonny." She breathed heavily, her soul hurting. "You knew all along that baby was yours and you manipulated all of us so that Sonny, Commander of the Universe, could have things his way. What the hell—"
"Would you have stayed?"
"Maybe," she screamed at him, screamed louder in her head a different answer, "But I'm sure as hell not staying now."
He'd let her go.
Yet again the house she'd built, the home, the family, was toppled by lies, secrets. Suddenly a house of cards down around her feet. Like so many times before. And for once she couldn't find the reasons, the strength to build it back up again.
That's when she knew she was leaving more than just Sonny or the penthouse. When she'd finally dug out those emergency instructions.
Directions to where now stood, Michael and Morgan—the pieces of her life—asleep in the car.
The door opened silently to a stern faced woman so young to be so solemn but blonde and bright eyed. "What is that thing?" Drawled the detesting voice, an eye twitching as she refused to look at the car and its contents.
"Help me." Her voice was wavering and pale sound so foreign to her own ears.
"I'll take these bags." The woman did, dragging them inside to some destination within the house.
Caroline brought more bags to the door, left them and by her return they were swept away by efficient hands. She took the boys in, each to an appropriately altered bed, and collapsed on the couch.
"What happened?"
"The life I led is shit."
"Then you start a new life." Arms she trusted, missed, had thought of often came around her and for the first time since she'd found out Sonny had yet another baby with another woman she cried. The softly drawling voice spinning out encouragements to cry, still familiar and comforting.
"She's in the pan-handle, right on the state line to Alabama. You want me to go get them, bring them home?"
"No, Jason. I…," he sighed, "remember when …the cliff, Alexis, there was no way I could tell her, make her, she just had to come around to it on her own. She needs time. I'll give her time. I fucked-up. But I can't change it so…. Just make sure that bastard can't find her. If we're gonna work this out, I don't want him getting in the middle. I don't want him hovering. I don't want him near my boys."
"Ok, done."
"The guy at the airport said she arrived in a car with two boys, one with red hair, the other in a baby seat, they chartered a boat to Corinthos' island."
"Why would she go there? Still be under Sonny's power?"
"I don't know boss."
"Alright, we give her a little while, maybe she's dropping off the boys. If she's not off that island soon, we go in."
"Yes sir."
She watched Caroline. The girl was a zombie, a wreck beyond the healing powers of booze or laughter, and she was beginning to think beyond time. The times when she caught herself wishing a certain short man very, very ill increased daily. Sleeping or awake it was hard to tell with the woman whose head rested on her stomach. Thinking ill again she slipped out from under the heavy head.
Caroline murmured, pain and fear rolling off her in waves. The dreams, the bastard, the soul ache. She crouched over the heavy head, caressed and hugged her, kissed her brow. "You're safe puppy. I promise. You've nothing to fear. I just have to go take care of something."
She smoothed her southern belle skirt and hair, picked up the special cookies she'd made and nearly skipped out to the newly inhabited house up the street.
There was no pause in her knock, no falter in her step, pride glowed out of her.
She beamed, let loose her most intoxicating 'Bama, and thrust forward a plate of cookies in bright plastic wrap. "Why hello sir and welcome to the neighborhood. I thought I'd just bring over a little something to make ya'll feel welcome."
"Well, you've succeeded," the northern accented male opened the door wide enough for her. "This must be my first dose of real southern hospitality. I'm thrilled to meet you…"
"Miss Eilene Omme," she proffered a hand demure but bold. "But don't expect much in the way of real southern hospitality from the rest of these folks hereabouts. They seem to be of the opinion that Florida, pan-handle or no, is in the Caribbean not the south. I myself am from just over the state line not but a mile to your left there so I'm under no such delusions. Well, I should say my sister and I are under no such delusions."
"Your sister?"
"Yes. She and hers just recently moved in with me. She'd deserted to the land of the Yankee, no offense—"
"None taken."
"—some years ago and the smarmy bastards have recently broken her heart into little bitty pieces. Well, one in particular. I've forgiven her the abandonment since she stayed with those horrible people for the sake of love and I'll continue to forgive her Yankee-isms as long as she never goes back to that rat," her eyes snapped on him with perfect clarity, nothing in her vague or coquettish, every edge in her body sharp and cutting him as she slapped the R around, "of a husband." Just as quickly as it had hit him, it was gone. "Then his behavior really isn't her fault," her face fluid cream. "Though I must say, should I ever so much as get a whiff of the man," cream turned in the heat and spun sour, "the most painful slow acting poison would be much too good for him." A moment she stared into his eyes, clashing with his trembling defenses, letting him know how complete her understanding was.
Batting her lashes in humility, again the affable southern belle,
"I do so hope you enjoy those cookies, neighbor. I made them with my own two little hands, secret family ingredients and all. You take care now."
She let herself out in front of his slack jawed face, sure that her cookies would either be sent out for testing or thrown away.
She returned to the napping house to find the young mother awake and bleary in bed. "Where'd you go?" Yankified tones.
"Who are you?"
"Sorry," a 'Bama of a voice flowed out that matched well, "where'd you flit off to?
"Well, being a true southern it's my duty to be the first to welcome and play hostess. It grows so tiresome, but to falter in the expected would cause undo concern and nosiness. I can't abide unfounded nosiness. Good 'ole fashion gossip and dishin', now that's different." She was rewarded with no laughter for her effort. "And all the sweetness and light those of our ancestors and ilk must spread is simply disgusting. My sweet tooth is throbbing." She snuck a cookie from the stack Caroline had brought from the kitchen. "Which is saying quite a bit."
She looked at the tumbled down and dejected woman on the bed who seemed to quiver at the common joke and the memories it incited and returned the cookie. "Oh, darling," she slid in, arms circling. "How can you let him keep doing this to you? You're worth so much more than that, than that … that…" her southern slipped, "ok, so I'd like to rip certain appendages from his body." She sighed. "He's not worth all this pain, he's scum baby, total and complete unicellular community which degenerates and degrades bio-molecular cells. Or I could just say he's rotting the life out of you."
Having blurted, she gathered back in her accent and continued in the dawdling tones of before. "I know he's hurt you baby." She watched the tears well in Caroline's brown eyes, dull from the frequent wet and depressed spirits. "He's done nothing but hurt you, let you down time over time but…now is the time to pick yourself up and shake it off.
"You survived so much. You got up and you fought it all with your bare hands and your teeth, you can't give in now. Look at what you've accomplished. You bounced back from bumps and bruises, car crashes, Virginia, the Spencers, cold-fucking-freezing water, gun shots, insane asylums, stalkers, rapists, wenches. And you're telling me that one more case of Sonny's super-sperm has sent you running into the deep dark recesses of your mind where I can't even get you to smile? What kind of yellow-livered wimp have you become?"
She wiped at tears, reached for a tissue. "How can you think that he's worth this? The end of all you are? He's not. He's a worthless, gutless wonder running around thinking with nothing but his dumb-stick and knocking up half the village idiots. A hypocrite over all that jazz about lyin' and intentions and he turns around and lies to you. He's not worth this pain. Baby, you have to find a way out of it—"
"He's worth so much more than you understand." Having heard the argument before she plowed through it.
"—for me, for those boys, for you. Hell, even for the King of Scum himself. Think about it. Someday he'll show up here," Caroline gasped. "I'm not impossible to find, baby."
"I've—"
"I'm still speaking, young lady. Someday he'll show up and do you want him to see this? This crumpled, wrecked mess of a woman? Do you want him to see that you can't even brush your teeth without him? Do you want him to see that he did what he never thought he could do? That he broke you?"
Caroline crumpled into her side, the sniffles and quite sighs of a one given up to tears.
"I can't help it. I don't know what I'm doing, I just feel lost, like there's nothing to fight for."
She took Caroline's face looked into the tired and daunted eyes. "Fight for pride, integrity, revenge, whatever works Carolina but you fight girl, with everything you can find."
"Ok, I'll try."
"Good."
"And as soon as I can we'll go…. I shouldn't have come."
"Are you crazy? Of course you should have come. You ask me you should have shown your face a good deal sooner. And you're not going anywhere. I told you I'd take care of things and I will. I will protect what is mine," her eyes were hard and Caroline sensed something more in them. "Now, I love you. Shattered, broken, bent, wrecked, deranged, slightly disturbed, or maniacal. No matter. So you stop thinking such piddling thoughts and get yourself gorgeous while I go pick up that boy of yours at little Thomas' house. Get Morgan all set and I'll treat us to dinner in town."
She leaned down and pressed her lips to Caroline's brow, "I know you love him, shattered, broken, bent, wrecked, deranged, slightly disturbed, or maniacal. And I love you to pieces. But that's what you are right now, baby. Pieces. We just gotta put you together and the rest'll sort itself out."
"I don't know how I got through so much without you." The accent still a little uncomfortable on her tongue.
"You're strong. You fight. That's how. But you'll never have to fight alone again." She smiled into Caroline's face and left to fetch Michael.