Author's Note: I decided to write this because I haven't liked what Days has been doing with Nicole lately. There are times when she can be selfish but she isn't completely cold and heartless. I wrote this to help me deal with what the writers are doing to Nicole's character. This takes place right after the night Crystal moved in with Nicole. Reviews are greatly appreciated as always.
I step inside the Cheatin' Heart, my eyes adjusting to the flashing lights and smoky haze. The bar is around half-filled with patrons, most of them huddled around tables or lurking in the corner booths. I step past the two men playing pool and head straight for the bar counter. After I slide onto the bar stool next to the man sprawled out on the counter drunkenly, the bartender approaches me. His large hands rest on the wooden surface of the counter and he leans in closer to me.
"Can I get you something?" the man asks in a semi-bored voice.
I smile bitterly, propping my elbow up on the counter and resting the side of my head in my hand, "What can you get me that will knock me out on my ass the faster?" I ask, then continue before he can answer, "Whatever it is, I'll take three."
The man nods, an amused smile raising the corners of his mouth, "That's a popular request tonight. I'll just get you what I got him." with a flick of his head, the bartender gestures to the man I have sat down beside. Once the bar tender turns to prepare my drink, the bitter smile on my face fades to a look of complete emptiness. I shift positions on the bar stool, readying myself for a night of drinking and forgetting.
Usually, I try to avoid spending time in noisy, smoke-filled places like this. It seems so unnecessary when I have an entire mansion, filled with cabinets of alcohol. But strangely enough, I feel more at home here than at the mansion. For the longest time, the mansion has felt like a cage to me, stifling me, cutting off my oxygen supply. I thought the feelings would dissipate once Victor died but it seems like all I have done is make the cage shrink, tightening around me even more. Brady never stops his accusations, his questions, his suspicions and I don't think anything I can do will allow me to regain his trust. I've tried everything but I just keep pulling myself farther into a cage of mistrust and lies and hate.
Crystal has taken a plane out to her mother's home to retrieve her daughter. That's the only reason I'm here right now because there is no way I would leave Crystal alone with Brady. I don't trust her; I'm scared that she'll say something to Brady that will reveal the truth to him. And he can't ever find out that I had Crystal kill Marlena, or that I had Jan kill Victor. I would lose everything if that happened.
The bartender returns with my drink and then draws his attention to the man next to me, "How are you doing?" he asks, eyeing the man's empty glass.
The man pushes the glass towards the bartender unsteadily, "That'sssssome good shit." he slurs, his voice so familiar that it's extremely unsettling, "Gimme more."
I take a good look at man. His back is turned to me and all I can see is the back of a black suit and a head of thick, brown hair. His shoulders are slumped with defeat and just by seeing the back of him; I can tell that he is completely miserable. My eyes narrow as I continue staring at him, now almost sure I know him. I tap him lightly on the shoulder and he turns around. He's facing me now and my eyes widen when I see one of the last people I expected to find here.
Lucas Roberts.
The last I had heard, he had been on the wagon like a good boy. Personally, I never could see why he bothered. Screw the wagon, alcohol was too important to me, I could never consider giving it up. But Lucas had supposedly gone a long time without drinking, which is why I am so surprised to see him here. I wonder what could have happened to him that would make him fall off the wagon. He squints at me for a few seconds before who I am seems to sink in for him. He closes his eyes and shakes his head in disgust.
"Oh, hell yeah." his stutters, his voice laced with heavy sarcasm, "What a way to end the day. There's nothing I enjoy more than a run-in with you."
My response is equally sarcastic, "Mm, it's good to see you too, Lucas. Drinking again, are you? That's real sweet. I wonder what Sami would do if she knew. Is it possible that she would take Will far away from you? I think I should go tell her."
Mentioning Sami definitely upsets Lucas but not in the way I had expected it to. He doesn't look angry or resentful or even scared at the prospect of Sami finding out about his drinking. He just looks... sad. And lonely. It almost makes me regret bringing her up but not quite. I'm sad and lonely too and misery always loves company. In my eyes, it just wouldn't seem fair if Lucas was satisfied with his life and I wasn't. Regardless of what anyone else thinks, I deserve happiness just as much, if not more, as everyone else in Salem does. I take another drink from the tall glass in front of and me and wait for Lucas to bounce back and throw some kind of comeback in my direction. To my surprise, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he sits at the counter solidly; his back stiff and his eyes lowered to the counter's surface.
Suddenly, I feel guilty. I am sitting here, taunting a drunk Lucas and it's making me feel bad. Damn my conscience for not letting me have any fun.
"What happened?" I ask finally, breaking the silence between us. Lucas rolls his eyes and looks away, purposely shunning me. I can't really blame him but I'm still offended.
"Well, then don't talk to me. I'll just have a nice conversation with my drink, which is certainly a lot more interesting than you. Or maybe I'll just drink him." I watch Lucas carefully and notice that he almost cracks a smile.
"Him? I had no idea that alcoholic drinks had specified genders." he comments, acting a little bit less drunk than he had a few minutes ago.
"This one does." I inform him, taking another drink of the bitter liquid, then slam the glass down with a grimace, "What is in this stuff, anyway? It tastes like gasoline mixed with window cleaner."
"I know." Lucas agrees, swirling the contents of his glass around with his hand, "And it's supposed to be helping me forget but it isn't. I guess that's what happens when you get too good at holding your liquor."
"Exactly. Sometimes, I wish I was still a lightweight so it would make forgetting all my problems so much easier." I add, pushing the glass away in disgust.
Lucas sighs and drops his head onto the counter, "I shouldn't even be here." he mumbles, "I promised Sami... Sami... but I just can't do it anymore. I didn't know what else to do. Sometimes it seems like the only thing that can help you is this." Lucas swings his arm around to gesture at the bar. I find myself nodding because I know that I feel that way just, oh, every other minute of every day. Nothing takes the sting out of life like alcohol does.
"So, what happened?" I ask again, wondering if he'll be more receptive this time. Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe he's really desperate to talk to someone but whatever it is, he looks up at me, his eyes open and honest.
"It's Sami." he confesses, his voice hollow with frustration.
"There's a shocker." I can't resist saying. I realize that this could take a while, I wave the bartender over, who tilts his head expectantly.
"Two coffees." I tell the bartender, whose nose wrinkles with confusion.
"I thought you wanted to get knocked on your ass," he reminds me. I shake my head at the man.
"I changed my mind. Now go get the damn coffees." I order the bartender impatiently, who scowls at me but turns to get the coffees. Lucas looks at me with questioning eyes.
"We're just going to sober up so we can talk." I explain, still having a hard time believing I am actually carrying on a civil conversation with my ex-husband, a man I have hated being in the same room with for the longest time. I guess it shows just how low I've sunk, how desperate I really am to be able to really talk to someone, even if it is just Lucas, "Now, what's this about Sami?"
He still looks a little confused and his voice shakes slightly as he speaks, "I- I thought that the two of us were working through things, starting to make things work. I've done everything I can to show her how much I care about her and that I'll always be here for her. But nothing seems to work. I love her and I thought she loved me."
This is all news to me, the last I knew they barely tolerated each other. But I guess I've been so wrapped up in my own problems, I haven't paid much attention to what is going on with other people in Salem. I hold back from asking him any questions because it sounds like he really needs to get a lot of things out.
"But she keeps pushing me away, no matter how hard I try." he continues to choke his words out, as if they are hurting him, "I overheard her telling Belle that she couldn't really love me because I was my mom's son and that there was no future for us."
I sigh and take a small sip of the coffee the bartender has just brought us, "So, Sami opened her mouth and messed everything up again? When is she going to get it; people don't like it when she does that."
Lucas' eyes darken and his hands grip the coffee cup aggressively, "If you're going to make fun of me, I can just go." he seethes through clenched teeth.
"I wasn't making fun of you." I jump in quickly, the idea of him leaving suddenly unbearable. Talking to him is slowly helping me think less of my own problems and focus on his instead. I realize that I see myself in him. Both of us are lonely and hurting over not having our feelings for someone returned- him for Sami and me for Brady. It's somewhat reassuring to know that I'm not the only one going through this, even if the feeling isn't totally a good one, "I'm sorry, keep going."
"I don't know what else I'm supposed to do." Lucas looked at me helplessly, "I want to be there for her, I want her but I don't know if I should keep trying to fight her if she really doesn't want me."
"I know how you feel." I say softly, thinking about Brady. There have been so many times I have wanted to give up on him completely and let it go but for some reason, I can't bring myself to do it. With Brady, it's like an addiction. I could stop it if I tried as hard as I could but I don't want to try.
"I wish I could understand what she needs from me." Lucas continues, "I would do anything for her but nothing is ever enough. I can't seem to do anything right and I hate it."
He sounds so angry and frustrated and hurt, it causes another wave of sympathy to wash over me. But another part of me, the more selfish part that I can't seem to get rid of, wonders if he ever acted like this when he had been in love with me. Had it broke him this much, losing me, had he been this crushed when he realized I had never loved him? On that note, had anyone ever really hurt that badly over losing me, over realizing that they could never really have me? For some reason, I didn't think so. And that made me wish I were Sami. Not because I wanted Lucas but because I just wanted someone to love to me so deeply that they would put me above themselves. It made me hate Sami because Lucas was sitting here, miserable and Sami didn't realize how good she had it. She didn't deserve Lucas anymore than I deserved to be sitting here with him because my life was that fucking pathetic.
"I don't think Sami knows what she wants right now." I tell Lucas, my voice containing more of an edge to it than I would like, "Maybe you just need to give her time. Maybe she'll come around." Even if Brady never will, I add silently to myself. But when I see the expression on Lucas' face, I realize that I have said the last part out loud, without meaning to.
I turn my eyes away from Lucas, not wanting to face him. I watch the steam from the coffee rise and curl in the air but I don't take a drink. Lucas is silent for a minute; then speaks again.
"Is there anything you want to talk about?" he asks me, his voice warm with concern, which surprises me. I can't remember the last time anyone other than possibly Brady, has seemed concerned about me. But despite hearing the concern, I still can't bring myself to talk about Brady, or anything else that's bothering me. I don't trust many people and when I do trust, it doesn't seem to get me anywhere. When I let people in, I just get hurt, so I'm not going to risk myself for Lucas' benefit.
"No." I simply say, silently wondering what Brady is doing right now. I wonder if he's worrying about me. Probably not, he probably just thinks I'm off somewhere safe, plotting with my 'accomplice'. I don't think he'd really care if I just left the mansion and never came back. Sure, he'd think I was running from all the crimes I had committed but it's not likely he'd miss me. I can't think of many, if any, people that would miss me if I left Salem.
Lucas plays with the coffee cup sitting in front of him, "Talking about it could make you feel better." he gently urges me, "It can help."
"It can also make things worse." I mutter, feeling a rush of vulnerability, "Talking always make things worse when I'm the one doing the talking. I always mess everything up."
"I think you're too scared to breathe to even have the chance to mess up." Lucas comments and I turn to glare at him.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demand indignantly.
Lucas shrugs, "You can take it any way you like." he responds evasively.
"Well, I'm taking it as an insult so if you don't want me to dump this entire cup of steaming coffee over your head, maybe you should elaborate." my hands encircle the cup threateningly, not even wincing at the feel of the heat burning into me through the glass from the coffee, "You don't even know me, Lucas. I didn't come here and ask you to judge me."
"I know that, it's just," Lucas looks directly at me and his stare is so scrutinizing that I can't keep making eye contact with him. "It's just, I might not know you but I still hear and see things. And from the looks and sounds of it, you're so afraid that you can't even make any mistakes, or at least, you can't learn from your mistakes when you make them."
He's right. After all the wrong turns I've taken, I realize at that moment, that I haven't ever stopped to try and take something positive out of my shortcomings, my failures, my over-the-top, hurtful schemes. I just tried to brush off the fact that I had done something wrong, surging ahead, making more and more mistakes.
"Well, thanks for the advice. You should be a shrink, just like Marlena. Oh, that's right, Marlena's dead." I can't resist smirking and Lucas frowns at me. My smile fades, "Look, I'm sorry it happened." I'm not, "But you can't expect to be that sad over it. She was going to implicate me in Victor's murder. And I'm not a killer. I'm really not."
Well, at one point, that was true. I hadn't always been a killer and I had never had any intentions of becoming one. The first time, with Colin Murphy, it had sort of been an accident. From then on, it seemed like my life sparked, beginning to flare up with hot, angry flames, which grew as my life progressed. The fire became huge and out of control and it was like every time I turned to throw water over the flames, they only grew higher, as if I was oxygenating them.
Sometimes, it hurts to breathe. When I think about everything I'm guilty of and all the people set on destroying me, it feels like my lungs are caving in. And it's not something I do often, but when I actually do look back and think about all the things I've done that have led to this steady, downhill spiral, I can feel my chest contracting. That's when breathing starts to hurt. Now is one of those times. And for the first time in a long time, I feel genuine tears spring to my eyes. Not tears to get attention or to make someone pity me but hot, burning tears of frustration and sadness.
"You don't know anything about me." I continue, hoping he won't be able to hear the tears in my voice, "You don't know how sick of this I am."
"Sick of what? Feeling sorry for yourself?" Lucas asks.
I grit my teeth angrily, "I am not feeling sorry for myself. You're one to talk, sitting here whining about how Sami doesn't love you." he tries to protest but I push forward, "And how dare you say I'm feeling sorry for myself when that's all Sami ever does? Is this how you talk to her when she's feeling bad about herself? I guess I can see why she would say that you have no future together."
A tiny flicker of pain crosses his features but the look fades almost immediately, "I wasn't trying to insult you. I think everyone feels sorry for themselves one time or another. I just can't help but wonder..." he pauses and stares hard at me, "What makes you feel bad about yourself, Nicole?"
"That's a no brainer." I scoff. There are so many things that make me hate myself. Fear. Guilt. Loneliness. My hands are shaking when I reach out to take hold of his arm.
"Do you ever wish you could go somewhere else, some place where no one knows you? But then you realize that you can't because something or someone is stopping you from going anywhere because the idea of leaving them is unbearable." he nods slightly and I know he's thinking about Sami.
He also must know who I'm thinking about, "Do you love Brady?"
For once, I decide to be honest, "I don't know. But I do know that I feel very strongly for him. I think I might love him because I can't remember the last time I've felt like... this about someone." I can't put into words what I mean by 'this' but I have a feeling that Lucas understands.
Lucas looks like he's going to be respond but the bartender speaks before Lucas has a chance, "We close early tonight. You think you can make it out of here pretty quick?"
I look behind me and realize that most of the other patrons have left the bar, having left only clouds of heavy smoke. The few people still left behind are gathering their things, preparing to leave. I stand up and pull out my wallet. I tug a few bills out and set them down on the counter. I see Lucas trying to get some money from his own wallet and I put my hand on his arm to stop him.
"Let me pay for it. It's not every day I find someone I can actually talk to who will listen. Thank you." I add, flashing him a brief, grateful smile. He nods and I tell the bartender to keep the change. Lucas and I exit the bar, stepping out to meet the cool air of a spring night. Lucas gives me a sheepish smile and coughs into his hand.
"Do you think you can give me a ride back to my apartment too?" he asks nervously, "I kind of walked over here from the cemetery."
"Where's your car?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
"In the parking lot of my apartment building." he says, still looking sheepish.
"Fine." I pretend to be annoyed with him as I unlock the car door on the driver's side, "But you owe me."
After I get inside the car, I unlock the passenger side door and Lucas ducks inside. I start the car and begin driving in the direction of Lucas' apartment building. We drive in comfortable silence for a few moments before I finally break the silence.
"What are you going to do once you get back to your apartment?" I ask him. He runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head uncertainly.
"I don't know. Go back to my own apartment, I guess. It's pretty late, Sami's probably already asleep." he mutters, not looking at me.
"It's not that late. You're just making excuses." I say knowingly, "Okay, maybe it would be good to give yourself some space from Sami for tonight. But you can't avoid her forever. Lucas, people do and say stupid things that they wish they had never done afterwards. Believe me, I know. If you really love her, there's no reason to stop trying. I guess we just can't help it."
"Help what?" he asks.
"Loving them." I answer, realizing that I had just admitted to actually being in love with Brady. And that pissed me off. I didn't want to be in love with someone like him, someone who didn't trust me, someone who was madly in love with another woman who seemed to have everything going in her direction.
I pull into the parking lot to his apartment building and bring the car to a stop, "I'll see you later." I say, feeling drained from what has taken place over the past hour or so. The last thing I thought I would be doing tonight was bonding with Lucas, trying to help him sort out things with Sami. I don't care about Lucas. Or Sami. I don't. The only person I've cared about for the past little while is myself. Running, scheming, trying to save myself from a life trapped in a real prison, even though it wouldn't be much different from the cage I'm living in right now.
Then something even more unexpected happens. Instead of getting out of the car, Lucas leans over and wraps his arms around me. He smells faintly like smoke from spending time in the Cheatin' Heart but I can still smell the clean scent of his skin and hair. His body is hard against mine, yet still warm and soothing. And even if it's just an illusion, I actually feel human. It's been a long time since someone other than Brady has had any positive physical contact with me and I realize how much I've missed it. His touch makes me feel alive, not in a sexual way because it is Lucas but it makes me feel like a real person, not like a dead, cold waste of space.
He's the one who pulls out of the hug because I don't want to leave his arms. I don't want to leave anything that makes me feel real and human. Because once his arms leave me, the illusion is gone. Now I can see why Sami would turn to him for comfort and again, I feel a wave of resentment towards Sami. Because she really doesn't seem to realize how good she has it. I would give anything to have Brady treat me like this but I think I'm beyond ever having any chance of that.
"You're not impossible to love, you know," he tells me, "I did at one time. But you can be selfish and too materialistic. And that ends up hurting people and pushing them away. That's hard to get around."
I know he's talking about himself and I can't remember another time when I've regretted the things I've done to him in the past more. I know he did love me, even if I never returned those feelings. And I might never be able to understand how much I hurt him by using him for his money but I know it had to be pretty bad.
"Lucas, I'm... sorry." I finish in a choked voice, hoping he doesn't make me elaborate. He understands what I'm talking about and smiles weakly.
"It doesn't matter anymore. It happened a long time ago." he shrugs slightly and opens his car door, "Bye, Nicole."
"Bye." I return in a near-whisper right before he shuts the car door. I watch him walk towards the apartment building and suddenly Sami seems to materialize out of nowhere. She flings herself at Lucas and I can make out her loud sobs behind my car door. She buries her face in his chest and his arms encase her, his hands stroking her hair.
"Don't ever do that again." her voices verges on hysteria, "I had no idea where you were and I was so worried about you. No one could find you and God, if there's one person I can't lose, it's you."
She loves him. I can see that and I don't know how Lucas can't. I feel another wave of injustice wash over me. Sami and Lucas have both done awful things in their past, just like I have. And yet, they have a chance at happiness, at chance at spending the rest of their lives with people that love them, when it looks like I never will. I drive out of the parking lot, glad that my car windows are tinted so Sami can't see who I am. Once I arrive back at the mansion, Brady greets me at the door. I try to brush past him but he follows me, his bare feet thumping on the stairs as he climbs the stairs behind me.
"Where you tonight, Nicole?" his voice is snide and suggestive, "Off plotting to kill more innocent people with your accomplice?"
It's the only thing he says anymore. And he believes it too. That hurts because there was a time when he could actually understand what was really happening with me. He didn't make assumptions; he just seemed to know what I was feeling, for the most part. I miss the connection I used to have with him. But the connection has been completely destroyed and I think rebuilding that connection may be impossible now.
"Right, that's what I was doing tonight, Brady." I snap sarcastically, "Because God forbid a heartless killer like me ever do something legal or innocent." I storm up the stairs but Brady grabs my arm before I can reach my bedroom.
"Well, it isn't like you ever let me in, anyways. What else am I supposed to think when you disappear for hours at a time? Why don't you just talk to me, confide in me?"
"Because I've tried that and I just end up getting hurt even worse." I bite back a sob, "You don't trust me, even when I do try to tell you the truth, so why bother trying? Why try and convince you I'm innocent when nothing will ever change your mind about me?"
Brady looks shocked at the outburst. Maybe he's shocked because there's a fine line between me putting on a show for him and truly expressing my feelings and he senses that I have crossed that line, "Nicole, I-"
"Look, don't even try to talk, okay? No matter what you say, it won't help. You have no clue how I feel right now and honestly, I don't think you really care. For once, just let this be about me instead of you and your stupid suspicions. Just leave me alone, just this once." I whirl around and walk into my bedroom, barely able to resist breaking into a run. I shut the door behind me and wipe at my eyes, then realize that my face is soaked with tears. I barely manage to change my clothes without breaking down, my breathing loud and shaky. After changing, I crawl into my bed and wrap the blankets tightly around me. That's when I finally lose it. After trying to hold in my feelings all night, they finally pour out in the form of body-wracking sobs and hot, angry tears.
I don't know how long I'm crying but after a while, I feel my bed sink down slightly and two strong, muscular arms wrap around me. I'm turned on my side so I can't see the person that's joined me but I know it can only be one person. I stiffen but don't make any movements to remove myself from Brady's arms.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
Brady doesn't answer my question directly, "I don't know everything you've done and I don't know everything you're feeling. All I know is that I hate seeing you hurt." he raises one arm to wipe at my tears with his thumb gently.
I sniffle, "I didn't want to- I wasn't trying to make you feel sorry for me. Not this time, at least."
"I know. I can tell." Brady states simply, "And that's why I'm here."
His arms tighten into a protective embrace but somehow I still know things won't be that different in the morning. But for now, the feeling of Brady holding me makes me feel like a real person, just like it had with Lucas. My sobs subside and Brady rests his cheek against mine, his chin brushing against the slope of my shoulder. And finally, my cage disappears and the fire dies. Maybe things will gradually get better for me and I'll be able to stop running and stop hurting people. But I know that once morning comes and Brady leaves, my cage will be back, the fire will blaze and I'll stop feeling human. I really can't fool myself for that long.