Kiki sat by Michael's bedside, holding his hand as she quietly sang to him.
"I think your voice is more likely to wake him up than the doctors." Kiki was about a minute into a song when Carly walked into the room.
"Thanks." she said somberly. "I just don't know what else to do."
Michael had been minutes from death when he'd arrived at General Hospital, but quick work on the part of his doctors had saved his life, but, for the second time in his life, he was in a coma due to mob violence.
Carly walked over to Kiki and gave her a hug. "What you're doing is perfect."
They both looked toward the door as Sonny entered the room. "Any change?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but not wanting there to be an awkward silence.
"Of course not." Kiki snapped coldly.
Sonny noticed. "I'm sorry," he said. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Well, just about everything."
"Kiki!" Carly exclaimed.
"No! I think it's about time someone said this." Kiki got up and walked straight up to Sonny. "All of this is your fault!"
"I know." he responded sadly.
"No, you don't. If you really knew, then you wouldn't keep putting your family in this position."
"Kiki, that's enough." said Carly.
She was ignored. "How many people have to get hurt? How many of your children have to die or get put into comas before you realize the destructive nature of your life?"
Sonny said nothing. He just looked from Kiki to Carly, who had her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide, and then at Michael, laying motionless in a hospital bed with tubes everywhere. Then he turned around and left.
