Chapter 4 ~

Early morning hadn't always been Sami's favorite time of day. When the kids were young, the early morning hours had been filled with getting everyone dressed and fed and off to school, or with doing laundry, going grocery shopping, and whatever householdchore she could fit into the few hours before her attention was needed elsewhere. Those had been years when she would have given anything for an extra hour or two of sleep, and she had sometimes looked forward to the days when the kids were old enough that their every need didn't consume her.

She had mentioned that to her mother after one particularly exhausting day, and Marlena had laughed quietly. "Oh, my dear girl," she had said. "Those days are gone forever. Your kids' needs will always consume you—whether or not you're directly responsible for them—and sleeping in? Never again; not really. Mothers kind of give that up for good."

Sami often thought of that conversation, especially in recent years now that only she and EJ and the staff rattled around in the big old mansion. She wished she could tell her mom that she understood all too well now and how this time had become hers to gain perspective for the day, but she couldn't. Marlena had left them in mind if not in body several years ago. There was a cruel irony in a well-respected psychiatrist being ravaged by the devastating effects of Alzheimer's disease.

"I miss you, Mom," Sami whispered into the dawn. She had hated her mother for most of her life, but eventually learned to forgive her for marrying John, and their relationship had been one of much love for many years. Like a mother that never stopped being consumed by her children's needs, children never stopped needing their parents; she needed her mother now more than ever. Today was the day of her surgery.

Sami stood outside on the balcony off the bedroom she shared with EJ, and watched the sun slowly make its appearance on the horizon. The last of the night air held a slight chill, so she wrapped her bathrobe around her frame more tightly. Not that it would help. The coldness that she was feeling was coming from the inside, from deep inside her heart. The only way to ward it off was to turn back time and change the outcome of her appointment with Dr. Graven.

If that one appointment had gone differently, everything that came after it never would've happened. There would not have been an appointment with Dr. Sabarra, her oncologist. Dr. Sabarra would not have confirmed Dr. Graven's original diagnosis, and she wouldn't have agreed with his assessment that the cancer was worse this time; all that was left was to determine how much worse. If it wasn't for that first appointment, perhaps she would simply be standing outside, wondering when her husband would miss her beside him and come and join her, instead of getting ready to have both of her breasts removed.

While it wasn't strictly necessary—her most recent mammogram confirmed that only one breast was affected—Sami knew that if she survived, she couldn't face this a third time, and Dr. Sabarra had agreed; given her history, it was better to be safe than sorry.

But knowing in her head that it was the right decision didn't take away the ache in her heart. It didn't take away her fears, the ones that didn't have anything to do with cancer or death and dying. The ones that refused to be silenced and chilled her to her core. EJ said they were baseless; he tried to convince her that they shouldn't even be on the list of her worries, but how could they not be? Finally too cold to stand it any longer, Sami stepped back inside.

EJ was still sleeping—at first glance anyway. Upon closer study, Sami could see his eyelids flutter ever so slightly, and his breathing was much too shallow. She had a feeling that he had been watching her all along, but was giving her the time she needed to be alone for now.

Emphasis on, "for now." He had barely slept a wink all night. He was worried about today also—though he hadn't said so—and she knew that he would stay close to her. It was his way of feeling like he was protecting her in a situation in which he knew he had no control.

He always protected her. It used to make her crazy that he felt like he had to protect her all the time, like she was a fragile china doll that he was afraid would break at any moment. But she had come to rely on that fact over the years and had learned to cherish that about him. How could she be upset that she had a husband who wanted nothing more than to keep her safe and take care of her for the rest of his life?

Even though she knew EJ was awake, Sami tiptoed into the bathroom and shut the door quietly behind her. It was still early—they wouldn't have to leave to go to the hospital for a few hours—but she didn't see the point in putting off the inevitable. This was happening; she couldn't pretend it wasn't or put off facing it anymore.

The door was hard against her back, and Sami breathed deeply, thinking about what she had planned to do. It would probably seem odd to anyone else given the circumstances, but she wanted to pamper herself one more time, pamper herself one more time before the surgeon's knife changed her forever. Before she felt differently about her body than she did right now.

She opened the vanity that held her extensive collection of bath products, quickly choosing her favorite bubble bath, and then moved to sit on the edge of the bath tub. She set the water to the perfect temperature and allowed the tub to fill, drizzling a generous amount of bubble bath directly under the running water, and then she idly trailed her fingers through the rising water as the tub continued to fill. After a moment, she stood to turn on her iPod that she left in its docking station on the wall.

Her playlists were wide and varied, usually designed for a specific activity, and the playlist for her bath time was no different. All soothing instrumental arrangements with beautiful melodies perfect for relaxing and the renewing of one's soul.

As the first strains floated quietly out to fill the room, Sami tried to clear her mind, concentrate only on feeling well and whole, but her eyes fixed on the image in the free standing full length mirror in the corner. Unable to stop herself, she walked across the room to stand directly in front of it, letting her bathrobe fall to the floor as she went. After a few moments, she lifted her nightgown over her head and slowly unfastened her bra, both making a silky pile at her feet.

Staring at her reflection with her hands on her hips, she tried to imagine how her image would be changed the next time she stood in this spot; she couldn't. It was like trying to imagine her face without one of her eyes or one of her legs without a foot. Her breasts were just as much a part of her. They might not be much to brag about at her age, but they were hers. They still filled out her blouses, giving her her feminine silhouette. They had been a source of nourishment for her children, a source of pleasure for her husband—and in turn, herself. They were—in the most basic sense—what made her a woman.

She crossed her arms over her chest, letting the weight of them fill her palms. They looked healthy; if she didn't know any better, they felt healthy as well. How was it possible that something that was measured in centimeters could be hidden inside, possibly poised to take her life?

A very light knock sounded at the door, and Sami's eyes met EJ's in the mirror as he poked his head around it and stepped inside. Without breaking their gaze, he turned off the water pouring into the tub and came to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands covering hers where they still rested over her chest.

"You are beautiful, and I love you," he whispered. "You will always be beautiful, and I will always love you."

Tears filled Sami's eyes. "How can you be sure? I won't look the same; I won't feel the same."

"I am perfectly sure, and yes; you will feel the same to me."

"No; it will never be the same," Sami said again. She turned in his arms, stood on tip toe so her chest was pressed against his and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. "It will never feel like this again."

EJ's look was intense, and even though they weren't skin to skin, Sami could see his desire for her flame in his eyes. He gently pulled one of her arms from around him and placed her hand over his heart. "Can you feel that?"

Sami's eyes closed, and a tear trickled onto her cheek at the feel of his heart beneath her hand, its beat strong and fast, the way it always did when he wanted her. "Yes."

"You do that to me, Samantha; you. You always have." He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "You make me feel like this," he repeated. "And as long as I'm holding you in my arms, it will always feel the same."

He kissed her then, a kiss born of a mixture of desire and need: desire for her and a need to drive every doubt she had away. And as Sami kissed him back, all she knew was that she loved this man more in that moment than she ever had.

"EJ, don't lie to me."

"You don't have to take that tone with me, Lexi," EJ retorted testily.

"I wouldn't if you would learn to stop trying to hide things from me," Lexi shot back. "Especially when it comes to your feelings," she finished in gentler tones.

EJ stared at her, determined to prove to his ever intuitive sister that she was wrong in her assessment of his mental state, but found his defenses crumbling to dust in the face of her own unwavering gaze. "Fine; I'm a wreck, OK?" he bit out angrily. "Is that what you want to hear? I'm a complete and utter wreck! And it is difficult enough to be strong for Samantha without you…with…ahh…"

EJ spun away from her to hide the first tear that slid down his cheek, but Lexi saw it. Not that it would have mattered if she hadn't. Once the dam broke, the tide couldn't be stemmed. The tears ran in silent rivers down his cheeks. When she wrapped her arms around his waist, she could feel how much he was trembling—and not just from the tears themselves.

Oh, EJ, she thought in exasperation. As determined as ever to make a go of things on his own, always set on taking the hardest road available to him. Why did he insist on carrying the heaviest burdens alone when all he had to do was reach out to the people that were just waiting to help him?

Lexi was glad for this little bit of time alone with her brother, even if the waiting room at the hospital wasn't the place she would have chosen. The nurses had sent them out of Sami's room while they began her admission and basic prep for surgery—much to EJ's dismay, even though he had tried to cover it. Since her nieces and nephews hadn't arrived yet, and John, their own uncle and Sami's stepfather, had excused himself to do something (Lexi wasn't sure what), it was just the two of them.

"EJ, why do you do this to yourself? Why do you hold it all in?" she asked softly. Her brother didn't immediately answer, but she was patient. He rarely was anything but fully honest with her once she put him on the spot.

"What was I supposed to say, Lexi, hmm?" he asked brokenly. "Was I supposed to tell you I'm absolutely terrified? Was I supposed to talk about how I have barely slept since we got the news because I'm afraid that if I close my eyes for even a second, she will be taken away in my sleep? Or perhaps you would have rather heard about the times I wake up in sheer terror that it has already happened?"

"Yes, EJ! Yes! I'm your sister, and even though you are more than capable of taking care of yourself, it's still my job to be there when you sometimes need a little help. How many times do I have to tell you that?" she asked with mild censure in her voice. "You're so hard headed sometimes," she finished fondly.

Even EJ had to chuckle slightly in spite of himself at that, but only for a moment. Now that he had let his feelings see the light of day, they wouldn't be put away. He turned back to look at Lexi with eyes that showed the depths of fear haunting his soul, and it was almost more than she could bear. How had he been laboring under it for all these weeks?

"Oh, honey!" she exclaimed softly, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could. He returned her hug like a man that was trying to find something—anything—to hold on to to save himself from drowning. In fact he hugged her so tightly, so wasn't entirely sure her ribs weren't going to break.

"What do I do, Lexi? What if I lose her?" he asked, anguish marking every word.

"You're not. Sami is not going to leave you; you know that better than all of us," Lexi said.

She hoped she sounded as confident as she wanted EJ to think she was. The doctor in her was calculating the statistics and trying to come up with any way that a relapse in breast cancer would mean anything but death, but she had her doubts. EJ didn't need to know that. He needed as much hope as she could give him. He needed a reason to believe his wife would be OK. "Sami is one of the strongest women I know. She's one of the strongest women I know," she repeated, to reassure herself.

Sami was one of the strongest women they all knew and one of the most stubborn as well. Lexi needed to hold on to that, needed to believe that her sister-in-law would get well as much as EJ did.

Because if EJ lost his wife, Lexi would lose her brother in the very same day. Of that she had no doubt.

"I'm OK, Dad."

"Not yet. I think we have a little time; the nurses said the anesthesiologist is running a bit behind this morning."

"Yep, everyone is here."

Derek Graven paused outside of the doorway to Mrs. DiMera's hospital room and listened to her side of what he assumed was a phone conversation.

"Dad, stop. It happened so quickly, and you had just gotten out to Carrie's….well, of course you had to go; it was the best time for Eric to take you…for the same reason Lexi brought John with her today instead of letting him drive, Dad. It's our turn to take care of you guys now," she finished wryly.

Huh. So he doesn't want his kids telling him what to do either, Derek grimaced, thinking of his own father. Just as stubborn and ungrateful for all his kids were doing for him as this man was.

"Dad. Dad! Stop it. Carrie has been dying for you to come out to California to see hers and Austin's new place, and Isaac is thrilled that you are there to see him graduate from medical school," Sami said, speaking of her sister, brother-in-law and nephew. "Stay and enjoy yourself, and we'll keep you posted. Love you, too. Can you put Carrie on for a second?"

A sister, apparently, but Derek didn't pay much more attention than that. He was still stuck on the moment where Mrs. DiMera said that she loved her father too, as in, also. In response to his saying that he loved her. He loved his daughter and was worried about her, like any normal father would be in this situation.

All fathers except his own. His father was a selfish sycophant. Always had been and probably still was, if he was still alive. Derek didn't know and didn't really care. He had cut the man out of his life the minute he had turned down Derek's gift all those years ago, and he became officially dead to him the day he laid his mother in the ground. Derek wanted no part of the man that had caused that precious woman's death, and he had made it abundantly clear to his younger siblings. They could do as they pleased in their own relationships with their father, but they were never to mention his name in Derek's presence. Ever.

"Dr. Graven?" Derek was surprised to see the slight nurse standing in front of him, looking at him questioningly. "Is there something you need? Are you ready for Mrs. DiMera?" she asked.

"Uh…yes." Derek pushed down the painful memories of his past and addressed the girl with his usual cool indifference. . "I was just getting ready to go in and speak with her. You should prepare to bring her to OR Three in a few moments."

The nurse nodded and hurried away, calling to several co-workers on the way who also scurried to make sure everything was in order, and Derek found strength in the site. This was his domain, the place where his word was respected and obeyed. It was the place where he was in control and had the knowledge to predict outcomes and the skill and power to change lives. He had earned and deserved the status he was afforded as a surgeon in this institution. He had gotten here without anyone's help but his own; his no account father definitely hadn't had anything to do with it. Derek wasn't about to let the man's memory tarnish any part of his career now. With that thought in mind, Derek entered his patient's room with a slight knock on the door.

"Good Morning, Mrs. DiMera. How are you this morning?" he asked without a touch of real concern or caring in his voice.

She glared at him. "It's about time you got here and just peachy," she finished sarcastically. "How do think I am?"

Was she kidding? Anger quickly leapt into Derek's throat, and he bit back the angry retort that was fighting to get out. It hadn't occurred to him that this woman might not have warmed up to him in a couple of days or that she would be as hostile as she had been at her appointment-or even that his approach had anything to do with it. As far as he was concerned, she was the problem, definitely in need of…something. He didn't know what.

In his current mood, he'd be in a lot of trouble if he wasn't careful, though. Especially given the fact that it was obvious she could make him mad and make him feel like a stupid child in less than five seconds. Either feeling alone would be enough to make him lose it, never mind both at the same time. It took him back to a person and time in his life he had worked veryhard to overcome. Back to the vow he had made while he was doing everything in his power to wipe the filth of the past from his feet.

Nobody-nobody-was going to push him around ever again. Not even this woman.

But, no matter where he wanted to tell her to go, he couldn't do that. He remembered well the admonitions of his colleagues; he remembered exactly whom he was dealing with and the consequences that could follow from ticking them off. With the greatest of efforts, he tempered his tone and tried again.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. DiMera. I spoke without thought. Of course this is a difficult time for you."

"It most definitely is. And it would help if my doctor didn't patronize me." she answered snappishly.

"Patron-?!" Derek counted to ten before he finished that thought. Patronizing? What did this woman want from him? And why were her family members just sitting there watching? Did they agree with her? What was wrong with them? Didn't they know how much he was going to try to save their wife and mother's life? Shouldn't they be more thankful?

If he hadn't been so caught up in his own emotions, he might have noticed that the DiMera family wasn't so much silently standing by in agreement as they were trying to keep from laughing out loud. Maybe it was the anxiety of the situation finally getting to them—making them laugh instead of crying hysterically. Or maybe it was just what they needed to lend a sense of normality to the situation: seeing their mother give this man a piece of her mind meant that she had the same fighting spirit she had always had.

"I'm sorry. I don't meant to be patronizing; not at all. I guess it is hard to know what to say; even as a doctor. " Derek almost choked on the words,but they seemed to pacify her as she nodded in agreement. It was actually ironic as he really was being patronizing at this point. However, she still found a way to make him feel small and incompetent with her next statement. "Then don't say anything at all." She sighed. "I guess you're ready for me?" she asked quietly.

This lady was bi-polar. That had to be her problem. How could she go from biting his head off in one breath to being so quiet and vulnerable in the next? It just wasn't possible. Any more than it was possible that for the second time, she was making him feel things he didn't like feeling, making him notice things that he didn't like to notice.

He noticed that the room was suddenly infused with fear as the family instinctively reached for each other for support. Her children gathered around her bed, completing a circle around their parents. Other people in the room formed a circle around them, so that Derek himself was standing outside of both rings.

He noticed that all the women wore something pink—the official color for breast cancer—showing more than their support as family. It was a show of their support as women, too. Derek noticed that three of the ladies—all daughters, he surmised—even sported a pink streak somewhere in their hair. This was a family that clearly loved one another, a family that fought for and with each other.

As he looked on, something inside of Derek began to hurt, but he fiercely stamped it out before it could take hold of him. He was strong, so strong that a scene like this didn't have any hold on him. No hold at all. To prove it to himself, he got right back down to business, and his tone was gruffer than it needed to be.

"Yes. The nurses will be in any minute. Then we'll get this over with."

He heard a quick intake of breath as someone started to cry and a soothing, maternal voice trying to comfort whomever it had come from. One of the ladies in the outer ring of people around the bed shot him a glare as he left the room, but Derek didn't really take notice of any of that. Neither did he notice the staff discretely stepping out of his way as he stormed down the hall toward the operating room. He wouldn't have cared even if he had.

All he cared about was getting into the zone. That place he went to everyday that allowed him to be the best surgeon—not just in Castle Rock, but anywhere. The place where his emotions did not belong if he was going to save lives.

The only place where his past didn't rule him.