A/N: Hi, everyone! I decided to keep updating some other fics in hopes of providing some mild distraction from all the mess happening in the world right now. If you haven't seen already, there's also a new chapter of Dear Johnny up!
Stay safe, everyone! Lets get through this damn pandemic.

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THIRTY-EIGHT

Pyramids Along the Nile

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Wendy sat on the park bench with a cigarette between her fingers, her brown eyes scanned every person that walked by with an ounce of hope that it would be her but every face she saw was that of a stranger. Wendy sighed softly to herself and lowered the cigarette from her lips. Her park visits had become an anomaly that she could only explain as a coping mechanism. Lana was supposed to be dead but Wendy just didn't believe that. Barb said she had seen Lana at that very park and so there Wendy was, in hopes that she too would have the luck of bumping into her.

Sister Jude was surely lying. Wendy had never truly trusted her. There was just something about her expression and the tone of her voice that left Wendy doubting her words. Besides, Barb was not one to tell lies or make up stories. She was one of Lana's closest friends. She was telling the truth.

Wendy did not know what she would do if she even saw Lana. She did not know how Lana would even react to her. They did not leave on the best circumstances and Wendy knew she had been so cruel. She had begun to greatly regret turning the doctor away but now it was too late to lament such things. Alas, Wendy continued to search the faces of every passersby in hopes of finding her.

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"I beg your pardon?" Oliver asked with an amused chuckle. His hands were wrist deep in dish soap and water as he did the dishes after dinner. The baby had been put to bed and now only Lana sat at the dinner table. Judy had wandered off into the living room to relax on Oliver's favorite chair.

Lana frowned slightly at his response. "I said, I want to learn how to drive...again."

Realizing her serious tone, Oliver shut the water off and turned to her as he grabbed a hand towel to dry his hands. "You're serious."

Lana nodded firmly. "Yes. As the flu."

Oliver frowned lightly and blinked, "Heart attack." He corrected her.

"Hmm?"

Oliver set the hand towel down. He was not wearing his glasses. "The saying is 'as serious as a heart attack'."

"Right." Lana agreed, her cheeks blushed lightly, "Well, I'm as serious as one. A heart attack."

Oliver stepped closer, crossing his arms. A serious yet pensive expression crossed his handsome face. Of course Lana was serious. He had known since the moment he saw her as a reporter that she was a very determined person. She sought things through and his experience with her proved that. Besides, Lana had been struggling greatly with her anxieties and her fears but this was some kind of breakthrough he had not been expecting. She had been becoming more and more independent over time but her own hesitations got the best of her. "You want me to teach you how to drive." He repeated the words out loud, mainly to himself.

Lana exhaled the breath she had been holding. She wasn't sure how Oliver would take the news of her wanting to regain some kind of indepence back. He had never held her back or denied her freedom but she knew the thought of her stepping back into the real world made him nervous.

"I just don't want to wake up one day when Johnny is five and have to explain to him why I can't drive him to the park or to school. I want to be whole again...not just for him but for me too."

Oliver stepped closer and relaxed his arms. Even if he fought Lana on it, it was a fight he would not win. He plucked Lana's chin with his hand and smiled, "Well, I can't say this day wouldn't come."

Lana gazed into his eyes. It always surprised her how much taller he was than her, "Can you then?" Her voice grew soft as her heart accelerated simply by having him so close.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, "You know I can never tell you no."

Lana smiled from ear to ear at this, "Really?"

Oliver nodded, "Really."

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They stepped out of the living room, intertwined in each other's arms as their lips met feverishly. Lana blindly walked backwards as Oliver attempted to lead her to the sofa. Instead, the back of her legs hit the edge of the coffee table.

"Ow!" She winced, slightly startled by the surprise bump.

"Sorry." Oliver apologized in between kisses while Lana laughed, paying no mind. They stepped out of the way of the coffee and found their way once again. Oliver gently pushed her back against the sofa and perched himself on top of her. Helen Foster was singing You Belong to Me on the record player and the night felt endless.

His hands quickly found the zipper in the back of her dress and pulled it down without hesitation. They had become so familiar with each other's bodies and the boundaries seemed non existent. Oliver pulled the sleeves of Lana's dress down, exposing her porcelain shoulders. He kissed the softness of her skin, making his way to her clavicle.

Lana felt the hunger growing in the pit of her stomach and the face of a woman flashed across her mind. Lana's eyes fluttered open and she stopped Oliver, "Wait…"

Oliver pulled away and looked down at her as she leaned against the cushions. Her eyes were wide and alert and they slowly began to fill with tears. Oliver worried immediately, "Lana, what's wrong?"

Lana calmed herself and shook her head, ignoring what had just occurred. She lifted her hand and grabbed the front of his shirt, bringing him down to kiss his lips gently. "Nothing." She whispered, "It's nothing." But the flashes of a woman's face raced through her thoughts like the blinking of a light.

Lana shut her eyes and let her husband's strong arms take her. She knew she was where she wanted to be.

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Lana opened her eyes to greet the dim yellow light of the living room lamps. Her bare back was pressed against Oliver's chest and her head was resting on his outstretched arm. They had fallen asleep on the sofa and the music had stopped, draping a heavy silence over the room. Lana traced the tip of her finger along Oliver's arm, feeling the firmness of the muscles in his forearm. She felt so safe in his arms and the thought of not being in them terrified her.

Lana blinked the heavy feeling from her eyes, trying to recall the face of the woman she saw in her thoughts but it was a blur. She didn't know what caused her to think of what could have only been someone she knew. Perhaps it was the song that transported her back to a distorted memory of her past life. Perhaps it was the intense feelings of desire that crashed inside of her like violent waves. Whatever it was, it startled Lana. The only person she wanted to think about was her husband and no one else.

Lana sat up when she heard her son's cries ring from the bedroom. Her eyes looked to the clock on the wall. One a.m. on the dot. Lana rose to her feet and quickly dressed.

Oliver roused from heavy slumber when he felt Lana move and reached out for Lana, snatching a hold of her wrist.

"Oliver?" Lana was surprised by his sudden grasp.

Oliver sat up, rather alarmed but his face was hazy with sleep. "Lana," His voice sounded confused and alarmed, "Where are you going?"

Lana ran her fingers through his dark hair and cupped his face, bringing his eyes to focus on her. Oliver's hand dropped from her wrist and grabbed a hold of her dress."Our son's crying. I'm going to tend to him." She explained gently to him.

Oliver blinked until her words made sense. He exhaled softly, feeling foolish as he finally came to his senses. Lana smiled gently at him and kissed his forehead. "You should come to bed too."

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Lana and Oliver sat side by side in bed later that night once Lana managed to settle Johnny back down. Oliver had baby Johnny resting in his arms as Lana relaxed against his shoulder, her eyes downcast on their boy. She grabbed a hold of Johnny's little foot and gently brushed her thumb across the bottom.

Johnny's little leg kicked itself free from her hand and he grunted softly before relaxing back into his father's arms to fully doze off.

Oliver chuckled, "I don't think he likes that very much." He spoke gently so as to not wake the boy.

"I get the feeling he doesn't like a lot of things." Lana replied sheepishly as she remembered how he screamed bloody murder during his diaper change earlier that night.

"He takes after his mother." Oliver joked with a small smile.

Lana scoffed softly, "Excuse me?" She tried not to laugh at Oliver's joke even though it was true. So far the boy's personality was strong and stubborn like Lana's. Alas, Lana hoped he would grow to inherit Oliver's good spirit and desire to help others. The boy had a good father and Lana had a good man in her life. She wouldn't be there without him.

"It's a good thing." Oliver kissed her head. "Trust me."

Lana snuggled closer to him, "I trust you." Her sweet son's face was the last thing she saw before exhaustion took over.

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Her eyes gazed out the window into the neighborhood she once shared with the woman she loved. Sometimes, Wendy swore she could still feel Lana's presence in the house. There were those seconds after waking up where she could almost swear Lana was in bed with her but that was not the case. Every time Wendy opened her eyes and looked to the empty side of the bed, she was alone.

Wendy brought out the packet of cigarettes but found it empty. She could have sworn she had one more at least. She sighed heavily and pushed away from the window. She made her way to the living room and sat down on the velvet sofa she and Lana had purchased together. Letting her memory go would have been a lot easier if her home wasn't filled with so many memories and reminders of her. Wendy supposed that was some sort of karma for what she had done to her past lover.

Wendy tossed the cigarette box on the coffee table and massaged her temples in frustration. The regret was eating her alive and she felt so stupid. How could she think she could move on from what she had done to Lana? She was daft to believe she could live worry free.

"Son of a bitch…" Wendy muttered and stood to her feet in search of her back up box of cigarettes that she kept hidden in the book case.

Wendy reached for the top shelf, running her fingers on top of the books until she reached the box. In her attempts to reach the box, she knocked down a couple of books from the middle shelf. "Oh, come on." Wendy groaned and leaned down to pick them up.

Wendy hesitated when her gaze fell upon Mansfield Park and immediately felt a jolt in her heart. Lana had purchased the book years ago but Wendy never saw her read it. Wendy opened the book and flipped through the pages when a little white business card flew out and fluttered down to the carpet at Wendy's feet.

Wendy frowned lightly and picked up the card. She turned it around and read the name: Doctor Oliver Thredson followed by a phone number and an address scribbled in pen. It slowly dawned on Wendy, she herself had hastily stashed the card after the doctor's last visit and forgot about it.

Dr. Thredson had come to her home twice to plead with her to help him save Lana from Briarcliff and Wendy had so selfishly declined. If anyone truly knew what happened to Lana, it was him.

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Lana stood at the end of their walkway. Her hands tightly gripped the bar of the pram before her. Johnny laid inside, looking up at her with those eyes that seemed to be turning bluer and bluer by the day. He kicked his little legs and gave out a little wail. Lana snapped out of her stupor to look down at the little boy. She found that when she looked upon his little face, it was hard to look away.

A sad smile crossed her lips, "A walk would be nice. What do you think, Little Chicken?"

The baby only cooed, unbothered by his mother's worries. Lana glanced up to the house. Oliver was in his study catching up on some extra work. She hadn't wanted to bother him and decided to try out some of her independence.

She looked back to Johnny who had begun to suck on his fist. "Okay, we're going now." She told him but her legs refused to move. Lana frowned in frustration and inhaled a deep breath. "Any day now."

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Oliver sat at his desk, typing away at his typewriter. His was an all black model, a lot older and larger than Lana's mint one. He was typing away at some notes from a few of his last sessions when he noticed the small stack of papers at the edge of the desk. They were Lana's writings on Briarcliff. Oliver had yet to read all of what Lana had written and believed that was her choice to make. He didn't want to cross those boundaries.

Alas, what she endured in Briarcliff was no surprise or secret to him. Perhaps he didn't know the beginning of her story there but he as sure as hell knew a good portion of it. Oliver's stomach churned at the memory of Lana's neglected condition and his fists tightened. His eyes remained on the papers but his train of thought broke when he heard the phone ring.