Freak Boy
Sonny waited on the street corner for Kate to finish shopping in the high dollar department store. Accompanying Kate on this little excursion in preparation for the wedding had seemed like a good idea at the time. He liked to indulge his fiancé and it made him feel like he was still an important man when he could give her something she wanted. But somewhere along the way he had begun to feel like an accessory- a mindlessly nodding and smiling facsimile of interest, "Mr. Kate Howard."
In the close packed aisles of the department store he had begun to feel claustrophobic, trapped in a shining prison of lights, mirrors and displays. He hadn't let on to Kate that anything was wrong. It would never do to expose that kind of weakness to her. He already felt their relationship was on uneven ground and even that was shifting beneath his feet. He had made an excuse that he needed to make a phone call and he would wait for Kate outside.
Now he stood on the sidewalk trying to think of someone that he could call, something, anything that needed doing that could kill the time. Like an answer manifesting from the streets of Port Charles, a black SUV pulled up to the curb in front of Sonny and three large men emerged from it. The driver stayed behind the wheel, and Sonny noticed that the engine idled too fast, as if the vehicle could barely restrain itself from getting about its business.
The men approached him, and Sonny wasn't surprised when one of them spoke with a thick, clumsy Russian accent.
"Mister Corinthos, Mister Karpov would like to have a word with you. We've been sent to offer you an escort to the meeting place."
Sonny glared up into the man's face, which appeared to have been chipped away roughly from Russian granite. For a moment he regretted assigning Max and Milo to other duties for today. With those two beside him he might savor a little dust up with these Slavic goons. Life had been one pitfall full of frustration after another recently, and Sonny had felt the urge to beat the shit out of someone for a long time.
His smoldering, angry eyes darted across the three men. If he tried anything he would be the only one receiving a beat down today. He didn't want Kate to come out and see him after he had been worked over.
"We could always wait for your lady friend and ask her to come along?" The goon added with an ugly, humorless smile.
Sonny favored him with a smile of his own- glacially cold and half snarl.
"Let's go, Boris. I've been wanting to talk to your boss myself." Sonny brushed past the men and climbed in the back of the SUV.
It was always his style to play any situation as if he was in charge. That attitude had gotten him a long way. He believed to this day that it was why the men working for Hernando Rivera had kneeled and kissed his ring instead of pumping him full of lead seconds after the old man had supposedly killed himself in grief over his daughter's death.
The men climbed in and the SUV rolled out into traffic. Sonny thought of different ways that he could make this up to Kate later, and settled on cooking her an Italian dinner.
In a way it felt good, leaving her and the wedding plans behind to attend to something of actual importance.
The SUV rolled on and made several circuits of downtown. Sonny became impatient at whatever game the Russians were playing.
"What the hell? Why are you wasting my time? Either take me to Karpov now, or this little sight seeing trip is over!" Sonny shifted in his seat stretching his neck and adjusting the shoulders of his suit moodily.
The goons ignored him. The one in the front seat got a call on his cell and spoke quickly in Russian before ending the call.
He turned in his seat to look back at Sonny with empty eyes.
"Plans have changed. Mr. Karpov is sorry to have inconvenienced you, but something more important has come up. The meeting is cancelled."
Sonny looked the man in the eye, his mouth a down turned grim line, his brow a thundercloud of anger.
"How about this- fuck you. Let me out of this classless piece of shit. And tell your boss this bullshit, jerking me around, is gonna cost him!"
The goon smiled, like an undertaker hearing about a three car collision knowing that business was about to improve.
"Settle down Mr. Corinthos. We are going to drop you off."
The sun had gone down and the alleys and dead ends that crisscrossed the warehouse district embraced the semi-darkness. The black SUV was parked in the mouth of one alley, blocking the view to any outsiders.
The goons had taken Sonny's phone, they had disarmed him, twisting his right arm so far into his back that he heard a sickening pop and was blinded by pain for a few minutes. They tossed his gun into the shadows as if it was a thing of no importance. They had worked him over pretty good. At first Sonny had gotten a few shots in, but soon he had needed all of his energy just to remain standing as they shoved him from man to man, connecting with well placed, almost lazy punches.
Every so often one would laugh and mutter something in Russian. Then the one who spoke fluid English would speak.
"He wants to know if you have had enough?"
Sonny would answer with a laugh or by spitting blood in the man's direction, and finally with just a ragged, weary shake of his head. The beating would then continue.
In the old days Sonny was convinced that he could have taken this, and probably anything, and remained defiant. Sonny Corinthos would never break- not for an enemy, not even for the love of his life. Only his own internal demons could bring him to his knees.
But times had changed.
"He's asking again, have you had enough?" The demand came again.
This time Sonny raised a shaking hand. He gave a small, barely detectable nod and fell on his hands and knees to the cracked pavement.
He didn't look up as the goons all broke out into derisive laughter, and scornful jeers in Russian. He could hear them moving away, the engine of the SUV turning over.
"You had better finish me now," he managed between clenched teeth. "I'll… I'll remember this, remember you! You'll… pay!"
He gathered himself and looked up, but the SUV had pulled away. They weren't scared of him, didn't even think enough of him to take him off the count.
Sonny lowered his head to the ground and pounded his left hand into the pavement again and again.
Minutes or hours later Sonny came back to himself. Someone was kneeling next to him, touching his shoulder.
"Former Godfath… umm Mister Sir? Are you… Mister Sir can you hear me? Are you well?"
"God damnit!" Sonny cursed under his breath. Of all the people to come along.
"Spinelli, I'm fine." Sonny levered himself up onto his knees, taking deep breaths. "Just, just go on, get outta here and mind your own business, okay?"
Spinelli was looking closely at Sonny, too closely, and his eyes were full of concern and worse- pity.
"The Jackal begs to differ. I saw a vehicle pulling away filled with eastern block evildoers. They were the Interloping Russian' men weren't they? They did this to you."
"It's none of your business. Spinelli leave it alone and go back to hacking into porn sites or whatever messed up crap you waste your life on"
Spinelli leaned back and then stood. He pulled out his cell phone.
"What the hell are you doing? Are you deaf Freak Boy? I told you to stay outta this!"
Spinelli shook his head, his eyes focused on something far away. He always looked that way when he was determined to do something despite opposition.
"Stonecold must be informed of this."
"Stop! Spinelli! Jason doesn't need to know a damn thing about this!" Sonny began to struggle to his feet.
Spinelli hesitated, his finger hovering over the 'send' button on his phone.
"The Renegade Russians are Stonecold's enemies! The Jackal must inform him of their latest atrocity! Besides, Mister Sir entered into an unholy pact with their leader. The Jackal must affirm with regret of course, that you can no longer be blindly trusted. I must pass this on to Stonecold and allow him, in his wisdom, to make the call."
Spinelli waved his hand up in down in front of Sonny's disheveled form.
"Also, you could be gravely injured… you need help!"
Spinelli raised his phone.
Sonny ground his teeth. He couldn't bear the thought of Jason knowing that his ill-advised alliance with Karpov had led him to this moment of humiliation. He glared at Spinelli and felt a red tide of hate and loathing for the useless hacker rise up inside him.
Sonny lunged forward, knocking the phone from Spinelli's hand. He punched Spinelli in the gut with all of his strength and smiled grimly as the young man doubled over in shock and pain.
"Somebody's gotta teach you how to take orders again Freak Boy!" He shoved Spinelli back and loomed over the reeling kid.
"Mister Sir… please!" The words barely made it out between Spinelli' desperate gasps for air.
"Please!" Sonny mocked, "You are nothing but a pain in the ass. Jason would be better off without you. You can't be relied on, you can't be trusted! You're weak! You are gonna cost everyone someday. You wouldn't be missed, you know that Freaky Boy?"
Sonny continued to push Spinelli until he was against the alley wall.
"I ought to do the whole world a favor and put your sorry ass down!" Sonny felt rage break loose inside of him, turning his thoughts white hot, burning cold.
Before he knew it, he was choking Spinelli, not even considering what he was doing or the consequences. He wanted to hurt someone, for the way he had been hurt and humiliated.
Spinelli struggled in Sonny's grip, trying to get air. Sonny pressed harder, blinded by hate and frustration.
In that moment something unexpected by both men happened.
Spinelli fought back.
He punched Sonny in his injured shoulder as hard as he could, and the pain sent flares of silver light bursting across Sonny's vision. Sonny reeled back losing his grip on the smaller man. Spinelli followed with a solid kick to Sonny's groin. Sonny doubled over and staggered back. Not hesitating Spinelli picked up a full garbage can that leaned against the wall close by. He brought it down as hard as he could on Sonny, flattening him.
In a rage, his usually passive, caring face contorted and almost unrecognizable, Spinelli dumped the contents of the garbage can all over Sonny's prone form. He then threw the empty can down onto Sonny, bouncing it off of him one more time.
Sonny lay still for the moment, covered in garbage.
Spinelli was overloaded, his system still racing with anger and pain. He glanced around frantically for his phone but his eyes fell on something else first.
Sonny's gun.