A/N: Just a few things...this story is becoming more and more AU, so don't be too worried about the characters reflecting the same traits as the show. This is where I wish they would take the characters after February sweeps!

Thanks for all the reviews and feedback! It is really helping meand keeping the writers' block at bay.

Warning: This is an intense chapter for some of the characters...the romance, pleasant twists and turns are coming, so bear with me :) Enjoy!

Chapter 8

Lucas, Brandon, and Jaime ran through the park swiftly, breaking the pace the rest of the baseball team had set. They were determined to impress the coach, and start this season. They finished 5 minutes before everyone else, and their coach nodded and sauntered off, without a word.

"Man, training is kicking my ass this year," Brandon said, still gasping for air. "Whose idea was it for us to sprint ahead, anyway?"

"Trust me, man," Lucas was panting, "I saw coach's face – he was impressed."

"He better be," Jaime said, as the three walked to where the coach had dropped off the guys' bags. "I'm not getting any bench blisters this year, that's for damn..." He broke off, and immediately stood straight up, fixing his clothes.

"What's up with you man?" Lucas said, reaching down for his gym bag, still gulping the water from his Nalgene bottle.

"I gotta a better question for you," Jaime hit Lucas on the chest lightly and pointed toward a bench. "What's up with her?"

Lucas's eyes followed Jaime's extended finger and set upon one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen. From the angle they were standing, he could only see her profile, but it was more than enough. She was petite, dressed in a light blue Nike wind suit that was covered her figure well, and had matching blue and silver running shoes on. Her long coffee colored hair was highlighted blonde, as if the sun kissed it in just the right spots, and it hung loosely from the clip she was trying to fix. Her complexion was like toffee, and her face glowed as she tried to catch her breath, making the crimson coloring of her lips pale to that of her cheeks.

Lucas couldn't take his eyes off her, but Jaime and Brandon interrupted his sudden passionate daydreams. "Alright, now I saw her," Jaime began, "so I'm going to talk to her. You two can take notes." He laughed and started toward her, with Brandon close behind. Brandon looked back and nudged Lucas, who stood transfixed.

"Um, excuse me," Jaime said, just loud enough to get the girl's attention. "Do you run in this park often?"

She turned toward them, surprised. "Not really, why?" she said, half smiling, and observing the three guys intently.

"Oh, well, um..." Jaime was caught off guard by her honeyed voice. "I just thought, you know, you look like a runner and since this park is really good, I mean, um... popular with runners that you would, you know... know some good paths." He could have kicked himself for stammering, and Brandon's chuckles behind him let him know it was obvious.

"Sorry, I can't help you out there, um" the girl said, focusing her attention on Jaime and Brandon. She avoided looking Lucas directly in the eye, and he stared at the ground when he saw her shift uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask your names."

Jaime smiled wide, sure the girl was interested and contemplating how to ask her out. "I'm Jaime, and these are my boys – Brandon and Lucas." Brandon did a mock salute, but Lucas looked up at the girl, as if he forgot his own name.

"Well it was nice to meet you, Jaime, Brandon, Lucas," the girl said, Lucas' name lingering on her lips. She finally looked him in the eye and quickly tugged at her hair. Neither she nor Lucas could tell who was making whom nervous. "Maybe I'll see you around." She adjusted the sliver clip in her hair one more time, and darted off while Jaime looked back and raised his eyebrows to Brandon.

"What's your... wait, where'd she go?" Jaime turned around to see Brandon stifling a grin, and Lucas with the same expression on his face as when they first saw her.

"Dude, your game is weak!" Brandon laughed and Jaime chased after him. Lucas just stood there, staring after the path the girl that was definitely going to rob him of any sleep that night went.

Dillon walked in the mansion, holding his breath. After Emily's revelation, Dillon made himself scarce. He had never seen that particular look of horror in his mother's face before, and he couldn't find any words to comfort her. He called Georgie, who convinced him to visit her, if for nothing else but to ease his conscience.

"Mom?" He walked into the family room, to find Tracy sitting, staring into the glass of red wine she poured herself a half hour ago. "Mom?"

Tracy looked over to Dillon's worried face. When she didn't respond, Dillon walked over and sat next to her, taking the wine from her hands.

"Isn't it a little early to be drinking?" He kept waiting for some barb, but she said nothing. "Did something else happen? Where is everyone?"

"Alan and Monica went to work, Daddy went out, somewhere – God only knows," Tracy said noncommittally, "and Ned has been down in that studio all day with his ex." She picked the glass up and drank the wine fast, not tasting a single drop. "And me, I'm waiting here, for yet another shoe to drop. Correction," she said turning to her son, "the other anvil."

"I don't know what to say, I really don't," Dillon offered mildly. "I mean, none of us could have seen this coming, you know." He turned and looked at his mother, grabbing her hands strongly. "Can I do anything for you?"

"Me? I'm fine, baby," Tracy patted his hands. "I'm not the one that's lost it all. You know something, I never have – truly, lost it all." She stood and looked at the bookcase in the corner of the room, filled with family photos. "Even when Daddy forced me to leave the family, they were still my family, and I was still a Quartermaine. I was still a part of the strongest, most powerful family in Port Charles – and we were powerful, inside and out." She stopped, inhaling and sighing deeply. "Now what are we?"

She looked back at her son, sullenly. "We're broke and broken. And there's no one to fix it – no one."

Dillon swept his mother into an embrace. "I don't believe that." He gripped her shoulders tightly, and made him look at her. "Mom, I don't always like you, you know, but I know I love you. I love you for your heart, no matter how much you bury it in schemes and hurtful words, you know. But most of all, I love your strength. I respect it and I relied on it all my life." He stepped back just enough to wipe the tears from Tracy's face. "I'm not saying you have to fix what's gone wrong with the family right now. I'm just saying that I know that you, more than anyone else, are strong enough to."

Tracy clutched Dillon's hand to her heart. "Thank you, thank you."

Georgie watched Dillon and Tracy embrace again through the terrace window. She encouraged him to go to his mom, but she wanted to be there to support him. She caught his eye, waved off his signal to wait for him, and motioned for him to call her. She mouthed "I love you" before heading back home.

Felicia turned up the stereo and tapped her feet at her desk. She had been there all morning and still came up with nothing. She was determined not to allow her writer's block to extend one more day. She had had such an easy time writing before – Lila's memoirs were fascinating and inspiring. Her tales of love and romance, courtship and family tugged at Felicia's heart. It had been the reason she went to Texas to take care of her grandmother. She had hoped to connect with her to find out more about Maria's life as she had Lila's, but the longer she stayed she became more and more disappointed.

Not that being back has done the trick, she thought. Felicia walked around the room and stared out the window. Being the executor of Lila's estate aside, Felicia had little to do besides argue with her daughters about everything. She craved the excitement her life was once consumed by – adventure and mystery, and love. She missed that spark the most, that electric feeling of having someone go out of his way to make her day brighter. She was grateful for Mac, his constant, stable presence, but she knew that kind of magic would never exist between them again.

The loud ringer of the Scorpio's cordless phone made Felicia jump, and she walked apathetically toward it. If another solicitor tries to get me to switch my long distance carrier... "Hello?"

"Is this a bad time?" Durant's suave voice came through lowly on the phone.

"No, no it's not at all," Felicia said, startled at how anxious John Durant's calling made her. "Mr. Durant, I don't remember giving you my phone number."

"Well, it's not a stretch for a prosecutor to have the police commissioner's number," Durant said, "which just happens to be your number."

"Right, well," Felicia tried not to sound disappointed, "Mac isn't in right now. Would you like me to give him a message for you?"

"Actually, this isn't a business call, but I do have a question for you." Durant knew where he wanted this conversation to go but was unsure if Felicia would respond.

"Ok, shoot."

"What is the deal with you and Commissioner Scorpio? You are divorced, right?" John tried to make his voice sound as cross-examining as possible.

"Not that it's any of your business," Felicia's tone hardened, "but it's complicated."

"Mind discussing it with me, over dinner sometime?" John smiled on the other end. She had fallen right into his trap.

"Huh, what?" Felicia stopped and let his words sink in. He was asking her out?

"Would you like to discuss you, over dinner, with me?" John stifled a chuckle at Felicia's reaction. He couldn't fathom how such a beautiful woman was single, despite living with her ex-husband, but he had been thinking about her, and their kiss at Christmas, since he saw her at the hospital.

Felicia, contemplating the idea, heard John say "Hello?" twice before she could muster a response. "Um, yeah…I mean, yes, we could have dinner, if you like." Her professional voice was also her recovery voice, when she couldn't quite get the right words out.

"Great, how about tomorrow, say 7:30? We can go to Carly's club," John said, his voice a little higher now.

Georgie came through the door, shivering from the cold at that moment, and Felicia's face grew hot. "Yes, that'll be fine. Thanks." She rushed to hang up the phone, and turned away from Georgie to regain her countenance.

"Who was that?" Georgie said, flopping down on the couch, face disgusted at the 80s station playing on the stereo. Her mom had such weird taste.

"Oh, nothing special," Felicia said, sitting back at her desk. She suddenly had Christmas carols in her head, and grinned to herself as the lyrics to "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" rushed to her head.

Max flung the door open for Carly and Jason. "I haven't heard anything coming from the room for about 20 minutes, but it was bad before."

Jason slid himself from around Carly's shoulders, still sore. He and Carly had rushed quickly to the car, and made Marco break every traffic law imaginable to get to Sonny's house. "Who else is here?"

"Just Sam and Agent Marshall," Max replied. "I sent the rest of guards out to the perimeter of the grounds."

"Good, thanks Max," Jason answered and tapped Max in appreciation. He and Sonny only trusted Max and Marco to be near when Sonny had such dark episodes. They were the most trustworthy, and could be counted on to quell any talk among the other employees.

Carly and Jason walked into the living room, to find Reese cleaning up the remnants of Sonny's volatile rage. She looked up at them and stopped sweeping the glass.

"Where's Sam?" Jason looked at Reese expectantly. "Where's Sonny?"

"He went upstairs, and Sam followed him," Reese's voice was still shaky. "She was afraid to leave him alone."

Carly bound up the stairs, but Jason continued talking to Reese. "You let her go alone? What else happened here?"

"Jason, she was able to get through to him, at least a little bit," Reese looked back at the glass. "He knew who she was, and he would talk to her, but me... he looked at me, and he wasn't there. He was talking but it wasn't to me, and I didn't think me going with him would have been helpful."

Jason rubbed his chin worriedly. "What do you mean, he wasn't talking to you?"

"He told me I changed my hair, and asked if I had brought the kids with me," Reese explained. "But he wasn't looking me directly in the eyes. I've never seen anything like it before. He started throwing all the stuff from the bar, shouting about Faith and how she almost killed you. But that wasn't the most disturbing part."

"What?" Jason knew what he was dealing with, but there was something different. Maybe it was the way Reese was describing it, but Jason felt like something worse was going on.

"He said 'It's what I deserve' and then something like 'It'll never be over for you, the blood never goes away.' Jason, he was completely gone. That's when I called you, and when I came back Sam was following him upstairs."

Jason groaned, and moved slowly toward the steps. Reese followed to help him, but he waved her off. "I'll be fine. Just, get Max to help you down here, ok." He walked painfully up the stairs, preparing himself for the worst.

Carly moved carefully toward Sonny's closed bedroom door. She pressed her ear to it, not yet ready to face Sonny's cold, distant eyes and incomprehensible ramblings.

BANG! The sound of the gunshot sent Carly to the floor. "Sonny!"

Jason leapt up the stairs and over Carly's body, smashing his own into the door. He screamed out in pain, but still looked around the room for Sam. His heart dropped in his stomach when he saw her body, on the ground between Sonny's trembling legs. He leaned against the wall for support, but didn't feel anything.

Sonny stood over Sam, who had also thrown her body to the floor in front of him. She had been talking to Sonny, and just when she thought she was getting through to him, he reached into his dresser, pulling out his 9mm, and aimed for the window directly past her. Sam saw Jason barrel through the door but was too afraid to move. Sonny stared straight ahead, watching Faith move closer to him and Sam.

"It'll never be over for you," Faith's voice echoed around the room, and she looked down toward Sam's body, seemingly lifeless.

"Don't touch her!" Sonny shot the gun again through another windowpane. He crouched down over Sam, shielding her body from Faith's gaze. "I won't let her hurt you, I won't," he whispered in her ear. He stood up again, searching the room for Lily, but came face to face with Jason, whose tears were frozen in his eyes.

Sonny rushed to him, dropping the gun. "Get Lily, she has to come. She has to come up here, Jason." He grasped at Jason's shirt, shaking him. "She was downstairs, she has to come and keep her away!" His voice was hoarse from screaming, but his words came out faster than Jason could hear or react. Jason just kept staring at Sam's hair, sprawled over the ornate run at the foot of Sonny's bed.

Sam pushed herself off the rug timidly and grabbed the post of Sonny's bed. "It's ok, Sonny." Her eyes met Jason's, and his single tear made her want to rush to him. "I'm ok, I'm ok."

Sonny looked around, meeting Sam's terrified eyes. He turned back to Jason and realized he had been gripping his shirt so hard he had ripped part of it open. "Sam?"

Carly got off the floor in the doorway and stepped behind Jason. She held her breath as she glanced up and down Sonny's disheveled appearance and erratic eyes. "Sonny," she breathed out his name, as he seemed to recognize her in the room. "Sonny, will you sit down with me? Just over here, right on the bed." She gently took his hand from Jason's shirt and tried to lead him away from Jason, but Sonny didn't budge.

Jason maneuvered slowly around Sonny and Carly, and once out of their grasp, ran toward Sam, who had grabbed the gun and was putting it in the pewter case Sonny bought on the island several years ago on his dresser. "Sam, Sam," he turned her toward him and hugged her firmly to him. The shock of what had just happened shut her system down so abruptly she couldn't embrace him in return. Jason kissed her hair over and over again, letting her move back slightly so he could see if she had been hit or not.

"You need to take, take this downstairs," Sam mumbled after a few minutes, pushing the case into Jason's stomach. "And your medicine, I didn't give you your medicine." Her hands shook so badly the case fell, causing Sam to jump away. Jason grabbed the case and pulled Sam by the hand, leading her out of the room. He looked over at Carly, who had still not been able to move Sonny, and prayed nothing would happen until he got back.

Carly rubbed her hands over Sonny's, which felt like a block of ice. She remembered the first breakdown she witnessed: Sonny's low, detached voice, far away looks, but this was different. He was in totally different place, one that Carly wasn't sure she wanted to go to retrieve him.

"I take it your call didn't go well, Rachel," Lorenzo looked at the blonde with shining mischievous eyes. He leaned and kissed her cheek when she smiled and shrugged. "Want to talk about it?"

"What can I say, Lorenzo," Rachel winked at him, "not all my business partners are as polished or charming as you." She looked him up and down seductively. "I wasn't expecting to run into you so soon, but it is a pleasant surprise."

Lorenzo chuckled to himself. The last time they "ran into each other" Rachel was playing hardball with Luis over some property, and he sent Lorenzo in to "negotiate" the deal. "Yes, well, I'm just sorry this encounter can't be as pleasant as before. I understand you're in the business of blackmail now."

Rachel's eyes narrowed. Courtney went to Lorenzo last night. "Not at all, just an even trade." Her voice came out smooth, but Lorenzo knew their courtesies had come to an end. "Funny, I thought Courtney would have gone to Sonny or Jason before you. Doesn't she hate you?"

"She does," Lorenzo replied stiffly and cleared his throat.

"So why talk to me for her? That is why you're here – to get me to back off. What I don't get is why you would stick your neck out for... ah!" Rachel turned away from Lorenzo's sigh, knowing she had figured it out. She quickly turned back to him. "Carly Corinthos. Really, Lorenzo, when are you going to stop letting that woman drag you around by the nose?"

"You know nothing of my relationship with Mrs. Corinthos," Lorenzo stepped to meet Rachel's mocking glance. "But I'll share this small bit of it with you. She is loyal to her family, and I am loyal to her. You will drop this scheme with Courtney," he eased back, lightly grabbing Rachel's shoulders, "and I'll make it worth your while."

"You still have no idea what he did to me, do you Lorenzo?" Rachel shook his grip. "I took the fall for him, and when all the lawsuits came down on that hospital, I was finished. I knew it, and he knew it."

She walked around Lorenzo to stare out in the water. "And you know what, he looked at me differently. When I went to him, and cried on his shoulder after the hospital board gave me the "option" of being reassigned or transferring, Steven looked at me as though I had failed." She walked back to Lorenzo, standing toe to toe with him. "That I failed as a surgeon. I knew then he would, no, that he never loved me. And now," she said, shaking the bitterness from her tone, "he's going to pay for it. Everyone pays for their mistakes."

Monica sat in the hub of the 4th floor, wringing her hands over and over again. She hadn't been able to eat anything at breakfast, and she and Alan came to work in silence. Monica couldn't get the image of Emily shouting her pain to the family, or her ignoring her questions this morning.

"Where are the charts I asked for an hour ago?" Alan bellowed from the nurses' station, and Monica stared at the ceiling. She walked over, past him, and threw the charts in his face before the nurse could respond.

"Here you go," her voice was flat, and she brushed back toward the hub, fighting back her tears.

Alan followed her. "Monica, don't disrespect me like that in front of the staff. I am in charge here…"

"Then act like it!" Monica turned and screamed. "You are the chief of staff – that's right, staff, people that work in this hospital. We cannot come here and bark orders when we feel like it, Alan, and if you can't see that you should leave. Rant somewhere else, because no one here deserves it!"

"Here we go again," Alan retorted. "I don't behave in a manner you find appropriate, and everything's my fault! Well I'm not going to take the blame, Monica. I'm not! Do you hear me? I'm not!" His voice broke, and for the first time since they found out about AJ's death, he looked Monica in her eyes. He finally saw Monica at the end of her rope – her eyes were dull grayish-blue, all the life and fire of their younger days sucked out. She stopped trying to blink back her tears, and as her mascara stained her face, Alan felt her trembling hands grip his coat, grasping for something stable.

He sat her down on the couch, wiping away her tears as delicately as possible. "I can't, anymore... Monica, I can't do it anymore." She caressed his face, then his back as he continued. "My entire family is slipping away from me, and I'm just so tired. I never fought before, because I just knew, I knew it would be ok, everything would work out. Now, I can't fight... fight my mistakes, fight this pain. I'm too tired Monica, I can't..." He slumped over into her lap, his words overcome by his sobs.

"Then don't," she spoke softly in his ear, rocking back and forth.

"What a shame," the familiar malevolent voice came, and Emily didn't bother to turn to face her. "I thought you'd do my work for me." Helena smiled wickedly, as Emily wiped her stained face and stood to face her nemesis.

Emily visibly shook in front of Helena, her memories of Helena's hateful words in the Cassadine crypt flooding back to her. "Finally come to finish me off," she scoffed lightly, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Helena looked at her curiously. She marveled how Emily almost had the poise of a Cassadine. "My, my dear, you look absolutely dreadful. Where's the brash, insolent twit I've come to know and despise?"

"Oh, Helena, you didn't hear? She took a vacation," Emily quipped back, stepping closer to the fire place as Helena advanced.

"Emily, why do you insist on robbing me of my joy? Just when I want to triumphantly gaze over your lifeless body, you start to make me enjoy our pointless conversations." Helena smiled devilishly at Emily. "Trust me, now there's no longer the time to get in my good graces."

"What a pity," Emily said loudly, distracting Helena from the sound of her picking up the fire poker. She swung fiercely at Helena, but missed. "You move well for an old hag!" Emily shouted and ran toward Helena, knocking them both into the desk and onto the floor.

Emily scrambled onto top of Helena, pressing the poker across her throat. "You knew! You knew what he did to me…and you said I enjoyed it," Emily's voice broke but her grip got stronger. "You knew what you were saying in that horrible crypt! I'm going to make sure you spend – AH!"

Helena, during Emily's tirade, positioned her hands on the poker between Emily's, and used all her might to force it straight up, knocking Emily in the face. She gasped to regain her air, and looked over to see Emily, unconscious with a large bright red lump on her forehead. "Arrggh, you simpleton," Helena flipped on her stomach to push herself up, but felt a slow crunch of a man's foot over her right hand.

"Don't bother, darling," Luke knelt to whisper in Helena's ear.

Lucas told Brandon and Jaime he'd catch up with them later and headed toward Kelly's. He had been silent from the time the girl they met at the park left, and didn't feel like lying to his friends about why. He was trying to commit every detail about her to memory – her voice, her hair. He avoided looking her in the eyes too long, but now he regretted it. '...it was nice to meet you Jaime, Brandon, Lucas.' Her voice played over and over, and Lucas shook his head furiously, a vain attempt to stop analyzing the way she said his name.

He walked with his head down, realizing how his face contorted when he was deep in thought. All of a sudden, he thumped right into Brook Lyn, while she was kissing Diego outside of Kelly's.

"What the... hey, man!" Diego's temper shot up when he realized who had interrupted their tender moment. "Lucas, get over yourself man!"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Lucas stood defensively, while Brook Lyn maintained the space between the two of them. "I didn't see you guys here," he turned to Brook, nonchalantly shrugging. "Sorry."

"Yeah, you're sorry," Diego laughed. "Why can't you just admit it, huh? You're still pissed because Brook wants me, not you."

"Diego, cool it ok?" Brook pushed him back away from Lucas' face. "He just didn't see us, alright."

"What! Brook, I can't believe you don't see what he's trying to pull," Diego looked back at Lucas' collected demeanor. "I see right through you, even if she doesn't. You want her back, but –"

"Nope," Lucas scoffed, looking at Brook, "not at all." He stuffed his hand in his pocket and strolled past them into Kelly's without looking back.

Brook watched Lucas walk away, and couldn't help but be hurt by his cavalier response. Diego stood in front of her, waving Lucas off. "He's such a bad liar. Who wouldn't want the most beautiful girl in the whole world?" He smiled, and Brook responded by kissing him and pulling him into a deep embrace – still watching Lucas order at the counter through the window.

"Rachel, you're far too beautiful to rely on something as ugly as revenge," Lorenzo brought his hand to her cheek, exactly where he'd kissed it before. "Believe me, it's a nasty, complicated emotion with fruitless results. You deserve so much more."

"Mmm, Lorenzo, once a sweet-talker," She smiled and rubbed her face against his hand. "But no coddling of my ego or my rational sensibilities is going to stop me. It didn't before, and it's not going to now. I want him dead – as dead as that patient, as my medical career. I make it my business to see his body as cold as his heart was to me that day, and it's non-negotiable."

"Then let me help you," Lorenzo stated plainly. "I have my own reasons for wanting Steven Webber gone, and it's not like you care how you achieve your goal."

"C'mon, a minute ago you were trying to save his life. Now you want me to believe you'll help me? No – besides, you have motive, not that Dr. Feel Good gives you much competition when it comes to Carly." Rachel took Lorenzo's hand from her face but still held it tightly. "I didn't come here to involve you, anyway."

Steven jumped down the steps toward the pier, hoping to get home in time to catch Carly and ask her to dinner. He stopped, almost taken aback when he saw Rachel standing there, holding hands with Lorenzo Alcazar. He knew Rachel was ruthless, but he had no idea she would mix up with a guy like him. He crouched down, out of sight, to listen to what they were saying.

"But I am involved now, so let me help," Lorenzo studied her face thoughtfully. "Here," he said motioning to the briefcase he had been holding. "There's more than enough here to get what you need taken care of, along with a list of people that can help make it happen."

Rachel looked at him hesitantly. "I don't want you tied to this deal. You should have never been involved in the first place. I have all the help I need, but... I may consider your offer – if we discuss it over lunch."

"Done," Lorenzo smiled back at Rachel and they walked off arm in arm.

Steven peered out, and stood once he was sure they left. He whipped out his cell phone, and hit speed dial 2. "Carly, hey, thought I might be able to catch you, see if we could get something to eat. I really need to talk to you, it's important. Call me back. Bye."

Sonny jerked his hand away from Carly's, her touch setting his veins on fire. "It burns," he said, moving back toward the window he just shot out. He drew the heavy curtains, dispelling all light from the room. Carly could barely make out Sonny's movements, and her eyes adjusted to the darkness she could tell he was pacing in the glass of the broken window. She moved to the nightstand and turned on the small reading lamp.

"I told you... it burns," Sonny's voice was hardly audible but he refused to turn the lamp off. He walked on the other side of the bed and stared at the closet. "You know something? I actually like the winter." He smiled to himself, as Carly sat on the other side of the bed, watching him. "I love the island, you know, cuz it's beautiful but it's always so hot. The sun... sun shines brighter than God intended, so extreme. And I go swimming to feel that cold again."

He paused, half turning to see if he was talking to himself, but not really caring one way or the other. "The blue of the ocean, it's so calm but it's the cold... the cold. I feel it al over my skin and it makes everything else feel far away. And it gets darker – the ocean. The deeper you get, the darker it is." He finally looked around to see Carly nodding and trying to smile. He leaned to her to whisper, his black eyes looking up at her halted tears. "It's my kindred spirit."

Jason held Sam's hand tightly as they went down the stairs, but it didn't stop her shaking. Reese met them halfway, her gun drawn, and Sam jumped at the sight of it.

"What happened? Where is he?" Reese could feel the adrenaline ringing in her ears. She looked at Sam, whose wan face and frightened eyes stopped her questions.

"Go back, Jason," Sam managed to get out, and slipped her hand from his. "You have to go back up there."

Jason looked at her, not wanting to let her go. "I will in a minute, Sam. Just let me get you downstairs."

"No," Sam said while Jason was talking. Her voice was so still Jason turned her face with his finger to his to read her eyes. "No, go back. She can't... she needs you in there."

Reese looked from Jason to Sam, and could tell he was going to fight her even though he knew she was right. "I'll take Sam downstairs."

Jason cupped Sam's face in his left hand, and kissed her gently. "I love you. Stay with her, and I'll be back down." He stepped back as Reese reached for Sam's hand to help her down the stairs. When he turned, he grimaced and Sam stopped him.

"I'm going to get the medicine," she said, suddenly alert. He sighed and was about to protest when Reese interjected. "I'll go with her, and we'll come right back, Jason."

"Fine," Jason relented, knowing he had to get back to that room. "Reese," he called out to their retreating figures, and she turned back to him. "No cops. Don't call anyone."

She nodded, and Jason turned, his footsteps echoing theirs in different directions. He still had the pewter case in his right hand, and he looked own at it as he approached Sonny's room again. Please God, be with me, he repeated over and over in his head. Sonny told Jason once that his mother, Adela, was trying to teach him the proper prayers for mass when he was five, but Sonny couldn't remember them all at once. She told him that he could just say "Please God be with me" until he learned – that all God really needed to hear was what was in your heart.

Jason opened the door to see Sonny smiling at Carly, like a puppeteer was pulling the strings at the corners of his mouth. Carly looked up at Jason, letting a tear fall then quickly brushing it away. He could tell she was afraid to touch Sonny, but she didn't want to move.

Sonny turned completely around on the bed to face Jason. "We were talking, you know, about the island," he laughed hauntingly, "about the ocean."

"That's good," Jason said, sitting next to Carly.

"Right," Sonny said, shooting off the bed and walking toward the broken window. "Jason we need to go over the figures from the casino accounts, I mean, did you take care of that?" He began to go through the dresser, and Jason instinctively placed the pewter case behind his back to Carly, who looked on, bewildered.

"Yeah, yeah, I took care of it, Sonny," Jason said, walking toward him, intending to shield Carly as she hid the case under the pillow.

"We've neglected business long enough, you know," Sonny said, sniffing the air hard, still tearing through the dresser drawers. "Where the hell is it?"

"Where's what, Sonny?" Carly called out behind Jason, her voice light.

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just..." Sonny opened another drawer, and yanked his hand back. He looked like he was ready to jump out of his skin, but he let his hand creep slowly back inside the drawer, pulling out a small, folded white lace handkerchief. It felt as thin as a sheet of paper, and Sonny let it linger in his palm. Jason moved up behind him to see what he was holding, but Carly held back. As he turned and she saw it clearly, she almost choked on her own breath.

"It's the only thing I kept," Sonny's voice hallowed out again, and Jason saw a tear drop so suddenly down Sonny's olive skin. "It stopped smelling like that day, you know. A few months after but she, she loved..." He brought the fragile piece of cloth to his face and inhaled it deeply. "She was here."

Jason looked at Lily's handkerchief, the one she carried at their wedding. He remembered how devastated she was, not to be wearing her mother's dress that Brenda burned in Kelly's, but she clutched that small cloth around her bouquet and smiled anyway. Jason just turned to Carly, whose pained face mirrored his thoughts perfectly.

Helena tried to roll up to meet Luke's wickedly playful eyes, but his foot mashed down that much harder. "Shouldn't strain yourself, princess. Though, it does make this a lot more fun for me. Go ahead, knock yourself out."

"You have divine timing, dear one," Helena said, "but honestly, Luke, we were getting along so well last time. Why spoil a good thing?" She held back her chuckle at the memory of slicing his flesh, and her scowl for aiming too low.

"I didn't know they taught about divinity in the seventh ring of Hades, but I don't mean to make you late for another lesson," Luke said, crushing Helena's hand even more under his foot. He swung his body around enough for his other foot to land atop of Helena's other bejeweled hand. He wrestled the poker from beneath her body, and steadied himself.

"You don't want to do this, Luke," Helena gasped out in pain. "You won't end our affair this way. It's too easy. You'll have no one left to fight."

"Trust me baby, I'll make another enemy in record time," Luke commented, easing on her hand and bending enough to get close to her ear. "Oh, don't worry yourself with jealousy, love. I'll always reserve my most special hate for you." He poised himself again to drive the poker through her wrangling body.

"NO!"