A/N: This is just a little "what if" story, inspired by Stan-related discussion on several DOOL message boards. It takes place after Phil's rescue team have supposedly parachuted in to save him, and after Stan is locked up with Phillip. By the way, if the idea of homosexuality squicks you on any level, even under certain conditions, I recommend not reading this. Why? Hee hee...if you've been following the Stan storyline...well, you should have an idea. I don't mind if you disagree with what I do in this story, but...I'm just saying, you've been warned. ;)

Thanks for reading.

"Damn him!" Stan cursed under his breath as he hurried down the hall, praying no one was following him. "Making me come here, and then locking me up with Phillip...no one does that to Sami Brady and gets away with it!"

"No one...argh..."

Stan was peeking from behind a corner when it hit him. He had almost said it.

I will have my revenge.

Revenge.

The man suddenly felt as though he was outside of his own body...though for the past couple of months, this had been true on some level. Stan was secretly Sami Brady, just wrapped inside some professional props and covered in a great deal of make-up. But Sami would never have stayed as Stan had she not been so obsessed with the idea of revenge...ruining everyone's love lives as hers had been ruined and making many of her so-called enemies as miserable as she was.

Revenge was sweet, certainly...but revenge was only fitting for those who truly deserved it. Stan was only now approaching this awareness. Did everyone he had sworn revenge upon...truly deserve what he had done to them?

Stan recalled his moments as Sami...first begging a hospitalized John to help her using his connections. It was true that Sami had been in a desperate situation, but John was also suffering. Not only had he lost his wife, but he was in physically excruciating pain almost every hour of the day and required constant medication. Instead of being sympathetic to this, Sami cursed him and then, as Stan, mocked him while giving him drugs.

Stan hadn't been much better to John's son, Brady. He was deliberately keeping Brady from the love of his life, Chloe. And why? Because Brady had tried to get Sami to be a little less selfish in a time when everyone in Salem was suffering? Brady didn't deserve to be kept in the dark about his former girlfriend. Chloe certainly didn't deserve to have her surgery sabotaged. The opera singer had done no wrong, but one slip of the knife and she might end up in a worse state than she was currently...thanks to Sami Brady.

Mimi wasn't anyone Sami had been crossed by, but that didn't stop Stan. He went to great lengths to torment Mimi about her abortion, even going so far as to taunt her with a baby doll. And then there was the matter of Jan's accident...

Stan remembered thinking that Rex was too good for someone who aborted his own child and then kept it from him, but that was merely a weak justification. He didn't really care. He didn't really have a reason for hurting those people and several others. Stan was angry at the world and didn't know how to make better use of that anger. But he was now beginning to see that his current methods of dealing with it weren't right.

Besides, he realized what a tragedy it was, a waste on all those good people. Revenge wasn't best spent on kind and loving souls. They didn't deserve it. It was better spent on the monster that had orchestrated this entire plot and thought of all his supposedly valuable minions as equally disposable.

"I was...wrong," Stan whispered to himself. "The only revenge I should be getting...is on that cold-hearted son of a bitch. If only I knew who he was..."

Everything was a mess. Just days ago, Stan had been in control of everything. Now, there was no guarantee he would even make it back home. He could only hope that the others were around...and still alive...

Shawn, Rex, Brady, and Lucas had all attempted to rescue Phillip with a plan that had been reviewed and rejected by ISA. Stan had no idea where they were in the building, but he was secretly hoping they were close by. Also, a small part of him was hoping they had found Phillip.

When Stan had first been imprisoned, the soldiers threw him in the room with Phillip. Later, they removed Phillip and placed him in another room, on a different floor. Stan had no way of knowing the location, and the boss' henchmen weren't intent on spilling the beans...

Stan gasped as the floor began to drop beneath him. He leapt back in the nick of time, concrete and beams spilling onto the ground of the story level below. The building was not as old as it may have seemed, but it had experienced its share of abuse and neglect and was now falling apart. Given enough stress, anything could give way. Strangely, falling to his death was not at the top of his list of concerns. Causing this much of a racket would attract the attention of more soldiers, and he certainly didn't need to be thrown into another cell. Holding his breath, Stan carefully made his way around the hole in the floor and headed for the stairwell.

When he made it to the lower level, Stan resumed his nearly silent stride while looking for a way to escape. There was a light coming from one of the doors, and he decided to inspect it. He peered inside and looked for the source of light, realizing it was coming from the holes in the ceiling.

"So it wasn't just me making those holes," Stan commented softly. "This place really is falling apart." Just then, a hand grabbed his shoulder roughly. Stan turned around to see an armed Brady staring at him accusingly. "I-it's you..."

"ISA, huh?" Brady said, shoving him into the room. "I knew you weren't with the ISA when I saw you on that pier, but this confirms it. There's no ISA on this rescue mission at the moment."

Stan could only smirk at him. "I wouldn't go around judging non-ISA agents if I were you, especially considering that you basically hacked into their mainframe and stole one of their missions."

"Hey, it was necessary," declared Rex, who had walked into the room with his own gun. "Besides, it's not like they were going to use the plan. Why should we have let it gone to waste, especially when it meant rescuing my brother?"

"Yeah, okay," Stan said with a laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Heh, heh. That's very noble of you. Stupid, but noble."

"We're well aware of the risks," Brady told him.

"Hey, guys," called Lucas' voice.

Brady didn't move, but Rex turned toward the door slightly as Lucas entered.

"Hey, Lucas," Rex greeted him. "Any sign of Shawn?"

"No," Lucas replied.

"Damn it. I can't believe we got separated from him. Damn this old building...it's practically falling apart."

Stan was suddenly feeling the tightness of the room space, and Lucas' eyes landed on him.

"Stan...wasn't it? What are you doing here?" Lucas demanded.

"That's what I'd like to know," Brady said. "He told me he worked with my dad in the ISA. Now, either he's lying about that, or he's on a little rescue mission of his own. Something tells me it isn't the latter case."

"I was locked in this place," Stan said, irritated. "I'm just trying to find my way out."

"If you were locked up, how did you escape?" Rex asked.

"You said it yourself--this place is falling apart. Actually, I tricked a guard into letting me escape. He entered the room alone and I hit him from behind."

"But why would they lock you up in the first place?" Lucas questioned.

"Gee, I don't know," Stan told him. "I guess my boss got pissed I was refusing orders, or--"

"Boss?" Brady repeated with disgust. "You're working for Tony DiMera?"

Stan's face filled with confusion. "What? Hell no. That guy is dead."

"Was dead," Brady said. "The phoenix has risen again, apparently. How could you work for him and not know that?"

"Easy, Brady," said Rex. "We just found out ourselves. If Tony wanted to wreak havoc, he probably didn't tell anyone but his closest minions that he was alive."

Brady shrugged. "I guess so."

Absorbing all of this left Stan speechless, and he backed away slowly until he was leaning against some crates. "That's...that's impossible..." he said a moment later.

"Well, it's true--"

"They're still holding Phillip somewhere in this building," Stan interrupted.

"What?"

"Phillip is still being held captive. They locked me up with him, but then they moved him somewhere else. I don't know where, but I hear the guards talking about him like he's still around."

"Okay..." Brady said with uncertainty. "That helps a little, but it doesn't tell us anything different from what we already know..."

"Well, wait a minute," Lucas said. "If the guards talk about him like he's still here, then we can get one of them to tell us where he is."

"That's not going to happen," a gruff voice declared.

All four men turned in the direction of the door, where two armed soldiers were entering, aiming their guns at the others.

"I'm getting a little tired of you people just running around like you own the place," the first one said angrily.

"Drop your weapons," commanded the second one. "Now."

The other men did as they were told, carefully setting their guns down.

"This doesn't look good," Brady said in a whisper.

"That's it. Hands up." The first soldier took a few steps forward as his partner closed the door behind them. "Heh, heh...like sitting ducks."

"What should we do?" the second man asked.

The first man thought for a moment and then responded. "Kill them."

The four captives stared back in alarm before quickly moving off in their own directions. The henchmen fired several shots with no successful result; however, the attack was disturbing the already frail structure of the room.

Brady and Rex dove behind some crates, anxiously awaiting the next round of bullets. Likewise, Stan and Lucas were concealing themselves behind some movable structures.

"You can't hide forever..." the first soldier taunted. He aimed his gun toward at random point on the ceiling and fired repeatedly, causing some debris to drop. It seemed to work, as a startled Lucas jumped up and out of the way.

"Hehe...there's your man." The second minion joined the first in picking their next target--the young man that was scrambling to find another hiding place as more of the ceiling began to give way.

Stan saw this, and he could feel the despair ripping through his own heart. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let them destroy Lucas.

He stood up and stared at the henchmen's prey, his feelings of helplessness suddenly replaced with new resolve. He had to do it. There was no other choice.

"Lucas, look out!" Stan screamed as he darted forward, pushing the man out of the way.

A split second before the beams from the ceiling collapsed, a hail of bullets flew in their direction. As the debris fell and the dust scattered about, there were the sounds of punches flying and men grunting as though they were being forcibly restrained.

The dust settled, revealing Rex and Brady, who were pinning the two henchmen to the floor. Both enemy men appeared to be unconscious, their weapons now in the hands of their captors.

On the other side of the room, Lucas was moving to his feet, shaking dirt and bits of ceiling out of his hair. He inspected himself but realized he was unharmed, thanks to...

Lucas looked around in search of the one that saved him at the last minute. "Huh...?"

"Lucas, you okay?" Rex called.

"Yeah," Lucas replied, still bewildered.

"What's wrong?" asked Brady.

"That guy...where'd he go?" Just as Lucas turned, his foot bumped into something. He looked down to see Stan lying there facedown, unconscious. "Hey." He knelt down, attempting to wake the other.

"Uh..." The blonde man stirred, coughing a few times.

"You all right? You...saved my life. I appreciate it."

"Heh..." Stan got up on all fours slowly, wincing as he did so. "Well, I would've done it for any-- arrgghh!" His face registered pain, and he immediately clutched his side, alarming Lucas.

"What's wrong? You didn't..."

"Agh, I..." Stan attempted to stand on his two feet, but could only turn the other way, collapsing onto his rear end. As he did so, he removed his hand from his ribs, revealing a liberal amount of blood seeping through his clothing. "Oh, damn it..."

"Hey!" said Lucas. "This guy's been shot! He's bleeding everywhere...help me find something to stop it!"

"Just leave him there," Brady said in annoyance. "We don't have time for this. Besides, the man's a scumbag if he's working for Tony."

"He saved my life," Lucas declared, appalled by Brady's insensitivity. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to return the favor. I think it's only fair."

"Don't bother," came the weak voice from the ground. Stan was now lying on his back with his eyes closed, and he let out a bitter chuckle.

"What are you saying, Stan?" Lucas demanded.

"It's just as well," Stan replied. "I'm getting what I deserve. It's only fitting I end up this way. Brady's...Brady's right. You should leave me here. Forget you even saw me."

"But..."

"Lucas!" Rex called, pulling an item out of one of the soldier's pockets. "I think I may have found a clue about where they're holding Phillip!"

"What?" Lucas rushed over to the other men, where Rex was studying a piece of paper. "Oh..." He knelt down slowly, reading what was written on the page. "What do you make of this, bro?"

While the two brothers were exchanging thoughts, Brady had gotten up and was making his way over to Stan.

Stan himself had managed to move himself over to the wall, where he was sitting up against it.

"Get up," Brady ordered.

His breathing labored, Stan lifted his head slightly at the man. "Wh-what...?"

"You can't stay there. You're going to die. You need medical attention."

Stan glared at him. "In case you haven't noticed, Einstein, I'm in no position to be moving around."

"I know that," Brady responded, lowering himself at Stan's side. "That's why I'm going to help you. Now give me your arm."

"Don't touch me, you traitor!" the injured man shouted as he turned slightly to shove Brady's hand away. The act aggravated the wound on all levels, and it caused Stan to cry out and double over in extreme pain.

A stunned Brady stared at him, processing what had just happened. "You idiot," he finally said. "I don't know why you think I'm a traitor, and frankly, I don't care. Right now, you need serious medical attention, and I'll be damned if I'm responsible for leaving you to die."

Stan had no time to reply before he felt himself being scooped into Brady's arms and lifted up. He could only groan in pain as he was carried over to a dusty wooden table. Brady then laid the injured man across the table with great care.

"That was a quick change of heart," Stan commented with light sarcasm. "About a minute ago, you were ready to let me die."

"Yeah, well...you did save Lucas' life."

"Heh, heh..." Stan then gasped, coughing up a bit of blood. "Ugh...hey, I'm...I'm sorry...for calling you a traitor. It was a force of habit. You're not a traitor, so I'm sorry for that, okay?" He paused. "I'm sorry for a lot of things."

"Don't talk," Brady told him. "We need to do something about that wound." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. "We just need to take your shirt off so that--"

"What? No!"

"I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I swear." He briefly held up both arms to demonstrate the point. "I don't have any weapons on me, so you don't have to worry about any more sudden injuries. Now, just lift up your shirt--"

"Stop it!" Stan protested, raising his body slightly as he slapped away Brady's approaching hands. "Just get away from me--agh!" The injured man then suffered another bout of pain.

"What's going on here?" Lucas demanded as he and Rex rushed over.

Brady shook his head before turning to the two men. "Stan..." he began in exasperation. "...won't let me cover his wound. He won't even let me take a look at it."

"I thought I told you to continue your mission and just leave me here," Stan said angrily, clutching his side.

"I give up," Brady sighed, holding the handkerchief out to Lucas. "Here, Lucas. You deal with him. After all, he did save your life. Maybe there's something special between you two."

"Oh, you have no idea," Stan muttered under his breath.

Just then, there was a loud clanking noise in the direction of the door.

"What was that?" Rex asked.

"Sounded like someone locking the door," Brady replied. The two then exchanged glances.

"Oh, no..." Rex said as he and the two other standing men hurried to the door. All three attempted to open it the conventional way to no avail.

Rex stepped back. "It's no use."

"How ironic," said Brady. "This place is falling apart, but the door won't even budge."

"Hey, if we're going to be stuck here for a while, you two might as well study that note more," Lucas said. "In the meantime, I'm going to see what I can do about Stan."

"Good idea," Brady replied. "Maybe we can solve two mysteries for the price of one."

With a reflexive "yeah," Lucas headed over to where Stan was. When he approached, however, he found Stan curled up on his side, and he could hear the faint sound of weeping.

"Look, man, I know it hurts, but it won't get any better if you don't let us tend to your wound."

"I don't care about the stupid wound," Stan declared, his voice wavering. "I don't even feel it anymore. I'm going to die, and...I'll never see my little boy again."

"Oh, that's right..." Lucas said. "You told me you had a son."

"Yeah...and I'll never get to hold him again. Not that it matters, because he hates me anyway. And so does...so does the love of my life. They both hate me, although...after all the things I've done these past couple of months, I can't blame them anymore. I did this all to myself. I just...I just wish...I could've seen my son...just one last time..." With that, Stan broke down crying, the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Lucas could not explain why he did so, but he sympathetically placed a hand on Stan's shoulder.

"I guess...I can understand," he said. "I'm praying I come out of this alive, because I definitely want to see my son again, too."

"Lucas...do you love your son?"

Lucas could only stand there with a puzzled look.

Stan gave a mirthless laugh. "What am I saying? Of course you love your son. And I know better than anyone. After all, we are both his...err..." He caught his own error. "We're both parents, I mean," he finally said.

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, I love my son. And...despite everything that's happened, I know his mother does too."

Stan blushed a little at this. "Do you think he knows that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Could you do me a favor, Lucas?" the man asked as he moved onto his back and made eye contact with Lucas.

"It...depends on the favor, but I'll try."

"Tell your son how much you love him."

"What?"

"And...tell him his mother loves him too..." The heartbreak returned in Stan's expression. "So much..."

"Hey," Lucas said softly. "Don't worry. You're going to get to see your son again. And your wife. Just don't give up. You have to believe."

Taking in Lucas' every word, Stan reached out and took his hand.

Lucas started to blush at this, unsettled by the fact that he was feeling a mysterious attraction to this stranger.

Seeing the uneasiness in Lucas' expression, Stan ended the gesture. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just...you made me feel a little less lonely just now. I want to thank you for that. And...I want to apologize..."

"For what?"

"For everything. I've been looking back this past year and realized...I did so many things wrong. Of course, it was only in the last couple of months I started doing truly bad things, but the rest of the time I went against my better judgment. And because of that, so many things went wrong for me. And after that, I just felt so alone. I felt like everyone was against me, but now I know I was wrong. Everyone else had their own problems to deal with, but I wanted them to put aside their own problems to fix mine. When they didn't, I thought they were betraying me, and...and..." He started weeping. "I wanted revenge...so I became...this...this horrible person in front of you. And because I became this person, I've hurt so many people...my family, my son...and you..."

The words and mannerisms were familiar to Lucas on a level, but he could not quite put his finger on it. "I don't understand. How could you possibly have hurt me?"

"Lucas...please...come closer..." When he was no more than a foot away, Stan continued, "I know you don't believe it now, but it was never my intention to hurt you. I don't know why things happened the way they did, and I know the guilty party won't come forward until she's exposed. I...I can't expose her, no matter how much I wanted to. I never found the evidence, no matter how hard I tried. If only I'd taken that drug test that first night, I might've, but...I was more concerned about not losing the ones I loved."

Affected by these words somehow, the other man continued listening.

"I know you love your mother, Lucas, but she didn't care about your happiness. All she cared about was ruining mine. That's why she had it set up. But you have to believe me, Lucas...I never did...what you thought I did. I could never do that to you. I was always faithful to you..."

Lucas was staring at Stan in shock. "Who...who are you?"

Stan reached up with a hand, caressing Lucas' cheek. "I'm...more than just a familiar face," he replied with a weak but loving smile. "Someone...who could gladly die at this moment...if she knew she still had you..." With that, he moved in closer, brushing his lips against Lucas'.

"What the...?" Brady, who had been witnessing all of this from across the room, started towards the couple but was stopped by Rex.

"Wait a minute," Rex said. "Something tells me this isn't what it looks like."

"It looks like a strange man is kissing your brother," Brady said through clenched teeth. "One of Tony's creepy henchmen, no less. Do you not find something wrong with that?"

"Well...I-I meant there might be something more to this."

Back on the other side, Lucas was losing himself in the kiss, which was growing rather passionate. He didn't know why he was doing so; he felt some inexplicable connection to this person. A great desire. A renewed, boundless love.

Love? That was ridiculous. He loved but one person, and he was certain he hadn't developed a romantic interest in men. Yet there was something about this kiss that seemed so right, so natural...

So...familiar...

He hadn't been kissed this way since...

At that moment, Stan pulled away, giving Lucas an appreciative glance.

"S-Sami...?" Lucas stammered as it finally hit him, his voice a stunned whisper. "How...how could this be...?"

Stan truly looked at peace at that moment. "I love you, Lucas," he said. "Please...take care of Will..." He then passed out, exhausted from the ordeal and weak from blood loss.

"Sami," Lucas repeated. "Sami, no...wake up..." He tried to shake Stan awake as Rex and Brady approached.

"No," Brady said in disbelief. "It can't be. Sami? That's impossible. Th-this guy..."

"...said he was hell-bent on getting revenge on everyone who betrayed him," Rex finished for him. "I hate to say it, but that sounds a lot like Sami to me."

"Oh, God..." Tears began to form in Lucas' eyes as he studied Stan's still form. "She's still bleeding..." He began to pull up the unconscious man's shirt.

"How can you be sure that's Sami?" Brady asked. "This could be another one of Tony's tricks. I wouldn't put anything past him."

"It's Sami, all right?" Lucas declared as the girdle beneath Stan's clothes was revealed. He then deposited the folded handkerchief between Stan's exposed wound and the blood-soaked shirt. "Help...help me...stop the bleeding..."

"Oh..." Brady looked sheepish as he recalled an earlier incident. "That explains why she wouldn't take off her shirt. Her cover would have been blown. But still...this is a matter of life or death."

"Hey! Anybody in there?" a voice called from the outside.

Brady whirled around in surprise. "That sounds like...Dad! How did he--did he follow us?" He and Rex ran over to the door. "Dad! Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me! I brought help!"

"Anyone else in there?" another familiar voice asked.

"Shawn?" cried Rex. "Thank God! We'd thought you'd gotten captured too."

"No, John and Roman found me. I'm fine."

"What?" Rex shouted. "Dad? You're alive?"

"I'm fine, son," called Roman's voice. "And so is your sister. She's back home."

The young man was floored. "Cassie..."

"Is it just you two in there?"

"No, Lucas is here too. Also...we think we may have found a clue about Phillip's whereabouts."

"Really?" called John's voice. "Well, you boys stand back. We're going to bust this door wide open!"

Brady and Rex cleared out of the door's path as the three-man force from the other side went to work. About ten seconds later, there was a small explosion, followed by the door flying open.

John was the first to enter. "You boys okay?" he asked, looking at all the men in concern.

They nodded, and then Roman stepped into the room, followed by Shawn.

"Dad," Rex said happily, approaching him.

Roman eagerly welcomed his son's embrace, and the two relished in their reunion.

"You boys were incredibly stupid do be doing this on your own, and you will be dealt with when it's over," John said sternly, but then his expression became flooded with relief. "But I'm glad you're okay. And...I know it's wrong, but I'm even a little impressed you got this far." His eyes then fell on the person lying on the table, partly hidden by Lucas. "What the hell? What is he doing here?"

"Um..." Brady briefly turned in Stan's direction before looking back at John. "He was...a little involved in this whole thing."

"I'll be he was," John said, his face full of contempt. "What was he doing, trying to subdue you all with drugs?"

"No, he wasn't. He...ah..."

"John, look," Roman said, releasing Rex. "He's badly injured. We've got to take him with us."

"The hell we do. Just leave him there. It serves him right."

Lucas, who had been quiet this entire time, turned his face to John with a furious expression. "Will you just...stop it! Stan...Stan saved my life...at the risk of her...at the risk of his own. It's only fair we return the favor."

John was taken aback by Lucas' reaction. "But Lucas, he's..."

"I know what Stan is!" Lucas shouted as he pulled Stan's shirt down. "That doesn't matter right now! Stan...has a lot of things to do still. Stan...has a family...who still loves him...a lot...and prays he makes it through. Besides..." He composed himself a bit before staring directly at Roman. "I think Stan...would love to see his parents again..."

Not realizing why Lucas had directed that last part to him, Roman casually nodded. "All right. What do you say, John?"

John let out a groan. "Fine. But that punk is in serious trouble when we get back." He gestured to Brady, Rex, and Shawn, and the three young men followed him out of the room.

"I can't carry Stan by myself," Lucas stated. "Roman...would you help me?"

"Yeah, sure." He stepped over to the table as Lucas lifted Stan's torso carefully. Lucas took one of Stan's arms over his shoulders while Roman did the same with the other.

The injured man stirred, lifting his head a little.

"Hey," said Roman. "Think you can walk?"

Stan turned his head in surprise at the familiar voice. "Daddy...I-I must be dreaming..."

"Uh..." Roman looked uncomfortable. "You're a little delirious, but no, you're not dreaming."

Another mysterious wave of contentment swept across Stan's face. "Sorry..."

"It's okay. Think you can make it?"

"With both of you here...I think...I finally have the strength to..."

Lucas could only suppress a smile as he watched an oblivious Roman do everything in his mental power to shrug off the injured man's bizarre comments.

fin