Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own any of the characters, except for Anastasia(Cara) & Jaiden who are my creations, or any other new characters you may see, no matter how much I WISH I did. They belong ABC, General Hospital and AMC.


Prevailing Over All
By Jules

Chapter 5
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When Cara slowly woke up the next morning, she found herself in a very embarrassing position. Somehow during the night, she and Nikolas had managed to move from the opposite sides of the king size mattress they'd started on, and ended up in the center, curled up together. Her arm was on top of his chest, fingers lightly gripping his shoulder opposite shoulder, her head resting on his other shoulder. Nikolas had his arm resting on his stomach, his other wrapped gently around her shoulders.

Cara had no idea how it had happened, but as much as she was enjoying lying there with her boyfriend, she knew she needed to get up. So, as gently as she could, she lifted Nikolas's arm off her shoulders, and then slipped out of the bed. As softly as she could, she opened up Nikolas' dresser, and pulled out a sweater, as the house had cooled off during the night. She pulled the sweater on over her head, then had to stifle a giggle at the sight of herself, the ends of the sleeves were well past her fingertips, and the bottom of the sweater was mid-calf. Shrugging, knowing it was the best there was, Cara quietly left the bedroom, softly closing the door behind her, praying she hadn't disturbed Nikolas.

She then crept down the hallway, past the guestrooms, and down the stairs. The house was completely still in slowly brightening light of the morning. Not a soul was up yet, save herself, but Cara wasn't surprised as she'd kept the group up late the night before. And she knew that the Spencer men were used to late mornings due to their life styles, as Emily had to be as well if she was in Lucky's band.

But, seeing as though she was up first, and it looked like she was going to have some time on her hands, Cara headed for the kitchen.

For while she was a wealthy, sophisticated young lady from Russia, she did know how to cook, and cook fabulously. Her mother had always told she got it from her father, when she watched her daughter cook, with a regretful far-off look in her eyes.

Nikolas knew about her culinary skills, and made an effort to always keep a stocked kitchen. So it was no wonder that she was able to find exactly what she needed to fix breakfast. In a short amount of time, she'd whipped up pancakes, two cheesy egg & bacon quiches, and gotten the coffee pot going. Enough to feed an army, or five humans and one Lucky Spencer, the man with a bottomless stomach.

Through out the entire house, the aroma of a hot breakfast wafted enticingly, waking the still slumbering. The foursome was dressed and in the kitchen in a matter of minutes.

As the group was stumbling into the kitchen, Cara was putting cream and sugar on the table for the coffee, having already put out syrup and butter for the pancakes. A teakettle was simmering on the stove, incase anyone wanted hot chocolate instead coffee too, for she had thought of everything.

The late risers eyes wide with shock, they just stood in the doorway.

"Vill you just sit down?" Cara commanded, "We vill talk after we eat."

Everyone could agree to that, and so the unlikely group sat down together for breakfast. They just ate and talked, about school, music, Luke's. For an hour or so, if someone had looked in on the scene, though would have thought they were looking at a family breakfast, a father eating with his kids possibly.

Once everything had been eaten, mostly in part thanks to Lucky like Cara had expected, Luke, Nikolas, and Lucky cleared the table, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and pretty much put the kitchen back into it's original state. They all then moved into the living room, Cara a bit resigned to what she had to do. She'd been able to put it off for a while that morning, but now it was time to finish her tale.

Once everyone was settled into comfortable positions, Lucky and Emily snuggled together in a loveseat, Luke slouched in a black leather stuffed chair with his feet up on the matching ottoman, and Nikolas on the couch with Cara leaning up against him, she went on with her story from where she'd left off the night before.

"After she got out of Russia, Anastasia traveled in Europe for avhile. In Sweden however, an evil rival of her grandfather's, Adrian Montague, recognized her. He would have killed her, dere in Sweden, had it not been for a warning call from one of her contacts. She tried to disappear, but every time she settled in a new country, he vould find her. It took the girl crossing the ocean to America to finally lose him.

She settled in New York City. She 'lost' her accent and changed her name, yet again.

One night about two weeks after she'd arrived in New York, she met a really nice guy in her apartment building and became friends vith him. She eventually told him how she vas on the run and much about her past, though still, she kept some dings close to her heart. She'd been dere for six months, and had finally stopped looking over her shoulder all the time when she went out the door. Of course, dat was vhen she was contacted that Montague had found her once again. She went immediately to her friend's apartment, he vas planning on moving home the next week. This person, who had known her all of six months, offered to take her with him, and help her leave no trace of vhere she went. Dey left the next day for Port Charles. She liked the new town immediately; it was small, but full of character and life. She enrolled at PCU the next day. In one of her classes she met a great guy and started dating him. Though she kept her secret to herself for then.

After two months though, when she knew she could trust him, before it could go any farther, she told him about some of her past, and amazingly he still wanted to date her. For months, everything was wonderful, but as usual vith the girls life, just when she dought it was over, just when she thought dings vere perfect, everything blew up in her face . . . . In just one short instance, everything she'd worked so hard for fell apart. The man she'd been running from was in town she'd thought vould be her sanctuary, brought dere by the man who was her father.

And dat's where the story ends."

"Huh, that's definitely one hell of a story you've got there." Luke remarked, gracefully bringing his feet off the ottoman and leaning forward. "You know . . . now that I get a good look at you, you do look like Sonny. Well, at least you've got he's eyes."

Cara doesn't say anything to his remark; she's too depressed about the appalling way her life has turned out, and absolutely terrified about what is going to happen next.

Luke had been working out scenarios in his head since he had first been getting details about the situation, though he'd pretty much known what they were going to do the night before. Now that he knew the whole story, his decision about what they were going to have to do to clear the matter up was absolutely final. While Luke Spencer was known for his wild and crazy schemes, plans, and behavior (most likely where his niece Carly got it from), he was also known for being smart, and the man to go to when you had a problem for a good reason.

Luke stood up, his eyes twinkling, but face resolved, "Cara, you're coming with me." He walked to the door and put on his coat, while Nikolas helped his girlfriend with her parka and kissed her goodbye, praying it wasn't for good. Just before he walks out the door behind Cara, he turned around; "We'll be back in a few hours, stay here."

With that the two left. Leaving behind a bewildered Lucky and Emily, and a very relieved Nikolas, at that moment, he didn't care where Luke Spencer was taking his girlfriend, as long as she was coming back to him in one piece.


Sonny's penthouse

Sonny was sitting on the couch in his penthouse, reading some paperwork about one of he and Jason's more legitimate subsidiaries, when his bodyguard Pete knocked on the door and announced Luke Spencer and Anastasia Katrina Victrovich were there to see him. Sonny's head snapped up after hearing the last name of the girl accompanying his business partner, the name was familiar to him, and for reasons other than business he thought. The idea tickled the back of Sonny's brain, but was so faint he brushed it off. Recovered from his momentary lapse into reflection, Sonny ordered Pete to let the two in, wondering what could possibly bring Luke Spencer out that early on a Sunday morning. (It really was Sunday 1/2/2000, I checked!)

A pretty girl, of average height, bundled up in a ski parka, was hesitantly following Luke through the door. Strangely though, she wasn't even batting an eye at the stoic Pete or other bodyguards in the hall between the Penthouses, who typically got stares from newcomers. As he stared at her face longer, he realized that timid girl reminded him of someone, but Sonny just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Sonny, so you're back in town." Luke drawled in his usual manor, which pulled Sonny's focus away from the girl.

"Luke, I can tell you're not here for a social visit." Sonny stated knowingly, "It's too damn early for you for that."

Luke nodded, pulling out a cigar and chomping on it, "Aww, am I that predictable? Well, you are right, I ain't here for any social call. Sonny, this is Anastasia Victrovich, she has a message from you."

"All right, what is it." Sonny questioned, raising an eyebrow, a bit surprised about this.

The girl finally looked up and spoke, with a firm voice that was obviously use to dealing with powerful people "You need to stop all dealings vith Montague, and send him, watched over securely, back to Russia, for reckoning."

"On whose orders? Or 'request'?" Sonny demanded to know, feeling his temper rise. Who did this little girl think she was!

"His capture and return has been ordered by Aleczander Victrovich."

"The head of the Russian Mafia! Why would he care if I deal with him? What's he done?" Sonny demanded, confused, "And what do you have do with the situation! I can not believe he would have a girl your age working for him."

"Montague's return is demanded for murdering Victrovich's daughter . . . my mother. And more recently, Montague has been trying to kill me . . . . Victrovich's granddaughter . . . your daughter."

"I don't have a daughter." He stated coldly, giving her a chilling look. The idea of a child . . . it bought back painful memories of the baby he lost when Lily died.

"Well, my mother vould object to dat, if she could." She responded just as coldly, and gave him a look that was even colder than his best, and sent a shiver through him.

"I bet you don't have any proof either." Sonny had to remain firm, it couldn't possibly be true. For her to be his daughter, after everything he'd gone though, everything he'd lost . . . . Plus there was the chance she was trying to con him, for him to get his hopes up, only to have them dashed once more, he knew that he couldn't bare to lose anyone else again. To care again . . . and if she was his daughter, he really didn't know what he was going to do.

Cara's temper, which she'd gotten from him, was about to erupt, but the logical part of her brain sort of understood where he was coming from.

People tried to claim to be the children of affluent and powerful people all the time to get things. She also had read his dossier, and knew how he'd lost a wife and an unborn child to mob-war violence. His pain was understandable, she couldn't completely sympathize, as she had only had her mother whom she'd lost. She'd never lost a spouse, or a child, she knew she couldn't begin to comprehend the pain and emptiness he felt as a result.

So silently, she took off the locket that hadn't left her neck since her mother forced it into Cara's palm just before she died. Inside was a picture of a young Sonny and a 16-year-old Natalia Victrovich (Who Cara (or Anastasia whichever you prefer) was practically a mirror image of). Sonny had given her mother the locket on the day the young lovers had parted ways forever.

She handed him the silver locket, then watched his face for the slightest sign of emotion or recognition. She got exactly what she'd been praying for, the moment her hands had gone up to her neck Sonny's heart had begun to thump wildly. But once the locket was actually in his hands, he knew he'd held that locked before.

After several tense moments of silence, the Russian girl spoke, "You gave dis to her about eight months before I vas born. She wished for you to know . . . but it was the only vay."

"The only way to what?" He demanded of her hoarsely, haunted by the locket, rubbing his thumb over the familiar etchings.

"To keep you from being killed." She told him softly, a bit ashamed about how her family had acted, about what they had denied him, upset about what they had denied them.

Sonny looked up at her in shock at her words. She nodded, as if confirming the truth of them.

It was hard to go on after that, to tell him what her own Grandfather had wanted to do, "My Grandfather was going to kill you vhen he found out you . . . (She coughed, to which Luke snickered, and Sonny blushed), well he was about to send out the hit men vhen my mother found out. She begged him not to hurt you, or kill you. He finally relented, on a few conditions. She was never to speak to you again, and dat included telling you about me. You were only allowed to find out about me if and when she died. Grandfather Aleczander expected dat day to not be until after he was long gone, but . . ." She had to stop for a second to wipe her eyes and compose herself. "But last year, Mother died. Montague murdered her, she only had enough time left to tell me your name, and give me dat locket. Now, he's looking to kill me . . ."

She launched into the tale about the last nine months of her life.

Sonny sat in silence for about two minutes, and then he managed to croak out, "Natalie's dead now too?"

"Da. She lasted for less den a day after they found her in the gazebo, she'd been shot." Then she added bitterly, "Montague took the honor to do it himself. He's decided dat he's going to personally kill me too. And it's all because my Grandfather Aleczander wouldn't sanction a killing of the man who accidentally shot his brother. His brother didn't even die!"

Sonny made her an oath, "I swear, I won't let the man who killed your mother kill you, or anyone else ever . . . . I've lost far too many people in my life to let that happen."


xXx


Across the hall

Carly was quite frustrated, talking on the phone, it was supposed to have been a quick call, but the conversation had now been dragging on for over 30 minutes. She was talking to an assistant interior designer, who worked for her; about a house she was helping plan and design.

Carly did this part time during the day with the business she owned, while she worked and managed Luke's nights.

Jason walked in to see her talking on the phone; he was about to leave when Carly signaled him to wait a minute. She quickly wrapped it up, "Yes . . . Yes . . No! Ah, yes. Hey, I've got to go, bye!"

Turning to her friend she gave a coy smile, "Jason, I need a favor. Latisha can't watch Michael right now, and I have to leave and take care of some urgent business at Luke's."

Jason nodded, "Sure. Go."

Carly was already up and putting on her coat. "Thanks Jase you're a life saver." With that she kissed his check and ran out the door, taking Tommy and Johnny with her.


xXx


Luke's

Lucky, Emily, Nikolas were waiting at a table for Luke and Cara who had called the cottage earlier telling them to meet them at the bar, and then again just a few minutes before saying they'd be there any minute.

Just as Lucky started getting fidgety, Cara and Luke came in through the door looking much more relaxed than when they left.

Lucky whispered, "So how did things go? Where'd you go? What happened?"

"Your father took me to . . . . my father's. As for how it went . . . as well as can be expected." Cara answered honestly, "Right now, he's in shock. I think everything began to hit him at once, and we decided to leave after he began to ignore us, got a glass tumbler, filled it with Scotch, then drank it. He repeated that three times before we left."

"Oh." Lucky sat back in his chair, a little stunned at the news.

Carly came in the door at that moment, she put on an apron and went over to the table of plotters, whom she noticed had not been served. She didn't want to serve her uncle, but he would get on her case later if she didn't.

Lucky began to speak in Russian as Carly made her way over; "We should speak in Russian now that more people are coming in. That way they can't understand us."

Emily, who knew basic Russia from high school, told him, "There might be others that do know Russian you know, like your cousin who's coming over."

Russian was one of the languages Carly did speak, having gotten an education on top of her high school, one that had included languages. And, having neared the table by then, she did hear him and could understand what they said.

"Emily there's no way in hell that Carly speaks Russian. I doubt she even knows Spanish." Lucky cracked.

That comment made Carly mad, while it was true she hadn't gone to college after High School, that didn't mean she wasn't smart. And to hear her own cousin making that sort of comment about her, hurt. With her eyes flashing, she scared Lucky by telling him in Russian, "Ah, but cousin, one should not speak of things one knows nothing about. Besides, you've forgotten one of the family creeds, never underestimate a Spencer."

Then she stalked off, without taking their order, and had no intentions of doing so that day. Emily had seen the hurt in Carly's eyes, but stayed silent, resolving to speak with Lucky about it later.

Lucky meanwhile sat in his chair with a perplexed look on his face, then Luke burst out laughing for the first time that day. "She's got you there cowboy. Never underestimate a Spencer, especially that one. Managed to fake her way in and out of the Nut House, after shooting the bastard who kidnapped her son in Open Court." He explained this for the benefit of Nikolas' girlfriend.

Cara raised her eyebrows and nodded her head, "Good to know. It's alvays wise to know the ones who are most protective of their families. Those are the ones you know you just don't fuck with their families. You can't alvays predict their actions afterwards, or even during. They become dangerous and crazy. But dey can also be the most loyal people you will ever meet. Once you become friends with them, I mean really truly friends, as long as you do not betray that person, they vill be by your side for life."

Emily nodded, her gaze having never left Carly, "Definitely sounds like Carly. She has certainly pulled some crazy stunts, and done some things that, at the time, made us think that she'd left or betrayed my brother Jason . . . but in the end it always turned out Jason was the one who she was truly loyal to. Jason and Michael, and Michael above all else."

"And who is dis Michael?" Cara questioned.

"Their son." The rest of the table answered. Because while AJ might have biologically been Michael's father, all of Port Charles knew for certain that there was no question that Jason and Carly were that boy's parents. And that nothing would ever change that.

Cara smiled softly, "For a child, a mother vould do anything . . . . I know mine did."


Much later

Carly got off work at around one am. She was tired, and couldn't believe that it had taken that long to get the drunks out. It still amazed her sometimes all the people that went out and got hammered on a Sunday.

She quickly locked up, shivering with cold, and went home. It had been a long, and crappy day. She was still stinging from Lucky's comment, though she knew he couldn't have known that she actually spoke Russian, the fact that he had assumed it, and then had made a comment about her probably not even knowing Spanish . . . her, Caroline Benson, who had grown up in Southern Florida! He was her own cousin, and he thought so little of her. She typically brushed off things like that, not caring about what other's thought of her, but this was different, he was family.

So at that moment, all Carly wanted to do was go home and see her family.

Arriving at the penthouse, she tiredly opened the door, and locked up for the night. Setting her things on the chair, she trudged up the stairs, and was happy to discover she'd gotten home just when Michael was about to be put down after his nightly chat with Dada.

"Hey Jason, let me do it. I haven't seen him for hours." She called out in a loud whisper.

Thankfully Jason wasn't one to startle, but his head did still whip around in surprise.

He smiled softly at the sight of her tired visage and nodded, "Sure." He handed Michael to her.

Jason debated for a minute, whether to leave or not, and settled on leaning on the doorframe to watch the two. He listened quietly as Carly started to sing Michael's lullaby. As he watched he felt this sense of peace fall over him. This was what he'd always wanted for Michael.

The longer he watched though, the closer he began to look actually look at Carly for the first time that night. He noticed she looked haggard, and that there were traces of anguish in her eyes. It was difficult to tell, since Carly was so good at faking people out, but Jason was a Carly expert, he knew Carly better than Carly knew herself.

Once Michael was finally back to sleep, Jason gave her the, 'we need to talk', look. Carly sighed, but not having the energy to fight with Jason, followed him downstairs. Jason led her to the couch, and sat down with her.

"Did something happen today?"

"Huh, what are you talking about?" Carly questioned, trying to blow it off.

"Carly, don't lie to me. If someone hurt you, I need to know about it."

Carly rolled her eyes, "Jason, it was nothing, don't worry about it."

"Carly . . ." He used the tone, the tone that always got her to break down eventually.

"I . . ." She sighed, "It really wasn't anything. I swear, Lucky just made a comment to someone about me, in another language, assuming I wouldn't understand it. Which I could, and well, it was just . . . bugging me."

Jason frowned, "But why, you've never let anything anyone's said bother you before."

"I know. It's stupid, it's just that . . . Lucky's family, and . . . I've always though he at least would have a higher opinion or expectations of me than everyone else in this town than poor white trash."

"Did he call you that?" Jason demanded.

"No . . . maybe it was my low self-esteem creating something out of nothing . . . . I don't know Jason, I just don't know." She looked down and pulled at the bottom of her shirt, tears welling up in her eyes.

Jason could see how badly she was really hurting, and pulled her into a hug, "I know you're smart Carly, and Michael knows you're smart. Isn't that all that really matters?"

Carly sniffed, and smiled up at him, "I guess so . . . . Jason, thank you."


Two weeks later

Things weren't going to great in Carly's life, not only was Sonny back to fighting with her, the bane of her existence, Robin, was back from Paris. So Carly was now living life constantly stressed out, and on the defensive, just knowing that someone might come at her at anytime wanting to argue.

The two bright spots in her life were Jason and Michael. Michael, who though was an absolute terror, running around all over the place getting into everything, was also completely adorable while doing so. Sure he fell a lot, mostly after running into something headlong, but what toddler didn't. All three of them were quite proud of his new toddler bed, which had wooden rails along the sides, but was much closer to the ground, and longer. It made it so while Michael wouldn't fall out of it while sleeping, he also wouldn't crack his head open climbing out of it. The new bed also meant completely baby proofing the penthouse. Gates at the stairs, they already had special latches on all the cupboards. Rooms they weren't in were locked, or had a baby proof knob on it, or else Michael could get in. Jason's office was kept locked at all times especially.

At the moment, Michael was down for his nap, and Carly was sitting on the couch reading the latest interior design catalogue, when Sonny came in. There was still major tension between them because of the bathroom incident.

"Carly, where's Jason?" He asked, not really asking, but commanding her to tell him.

"I'm not his secretary Sonny. I don't report where he is." She told him smugly.

"Fine then, I'll sit here and wait for him with you."

"Oh no you don't. He's in his office." She informed him, not wanting to be near him anymore than necessary.

He smirked at her, then sauntered out of the room. She shook her head in disgust, then went back to her reading.

She managed to read in silence for about ten minutes when her beeper went off frightening the crap out of her. She grabbed it off the end table, looked at the number but didn't recognize it. Frowning, she grabbed her cell and dialed the foreign number, thinking it could possibly be a new client.

"Hello? This is Carly, you paged me?"

"Oh good!" A hyper voice rang out from the other end. "Carly, it's Lucy Coe. I was wondering if you'd do me a big favor. You see, I normally run the Nurses Ball, but can't this year because I have to go away on business for four months with my Doc. I don't want Katherine Bell ruining it, would you mind hosting it for me?"

"What? Me? You want me?" Carly repeated, really not believing what she was hearing.

"Yes you. Well, your Uncle Luke recommended you, and I know he wouldn't have done it unless he honestly thought you would do a great job because he knows how very important this is to me and…"

Carly cut her ramble off, "Lucy, I'd be honored to host it. I just can't believe Luke recommended me."

Lucy squealed, "Oh good. Now, I'll help you with preparations until I have to leave. I'm so glad you will. Ooh! I've got to go, bye!"

Lucy hung up, leaving Carly sitting there, starring at her cell phone in shock at what had transpired over the last five minutes.

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Oh, just so you know, I've looked it up and Adrian actually IS a Russian name! Who would have thought! I've kind of got more fanatic about that sort of thing. I like things to be accurate, names to be for my characters to be from the right country of Origin, backgrounds to make sense, that sort of thing. So when I noticed I'd named the character Adrian, I just HAD too check that one out, cause I didn't think it could possibly be Russian. When I chose it, it was because I'd liked it. (though in all honesty, my tastes in names have changed drastically since I was 16) Anyway, there it was in bold, to my absolute amazement! I still just can't believe it's actually a Russian name . . . . Well, to be exact it's used in German, English, Italian, Spanish, Russian, Polish and Romanian, so I think my bases are covered on the name, whatever the villain's nationality . . . . which I don't think I ever covered, or figured out for myself!

Please, I want replies, I know it sounds pathetic, but I live for feedback, good or bad! I need to know what you think so I know where to go with this.

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