I'm falling asleep. Here is PART B as Chapter Eighteen was PART A of what would've been an exceptionally long chapter. Many thanks to those who took the time to review it; I appreciate your comments. As usual, they are inspiring.
Now, this is NOT entirely edited and some was written while I continue to fight sleep. I'll reread it in the morning… afternoon, when I wake up.
Chapter Nineteen
Starting to Feel
Helena walked back into the room to find Evelyn, still in the bathrobe, sitting in the same spot she had left her. She stood at the door watching unnoticed as the haggardly woman stared out of the window at nothing in particular while she smoked a cigarette. From the smell of the room, and the empty cigarette package sitting at the table beside her, Helena could tell that since she had left, Evelyn had done nothing but smoke enough cigarettes a chimney sweep would be necessary for her blackened lungs. The sight of her younger sister, a woman whom she hardly knew, disgusted her; she was another person Helena added to her list of the world's waste of skin.
- "I'm back."
Evelyn did not bother to turn around to look at her. She had sensed Helena's return from the sudden drop in the room's temperature, along with the daggers aimed at the back of her head. She had always known how Helena felt about her; it was nothing she had not become accustomed to with the members of that family. She did not care any longer; she would not give her sister the satisfaction of insulting and degrading her.
- "I'm shocked you were able to walk out of this room without a servant to carry you out. Congratulations on your safe return."
- "Seeing as you've already embarrassed me, here's a few things so you can actually look like you belong to society."
Helena placed the room key into her clutch and threw the bag of clothing she had purchased across the room at the woman. Evelyn jumped at the impact of the bag against the back of her chair.
- "What the hell is wrong with you? You talk about being civilized and of class, but you're throwing this sh*t at me. Your manners leave much to be desired, Helena. Do you think Cristof would be proud of his little princess? Methinks not!"
As much as she would have liked to push the woman out of the window for such a comment, Helena remained calm as she sat on the couch across from where the woman had been seated.
- "You're very welcome Evelyn."
She scoffed.
- "I'm not thanking you! You wouldn't be here if you didn't need something from me!"
Helena smiled curtly at her younger sister.
- "Actually, I don't need anything from you at all. You were imprisoned, and I could not very well leave you there—"
Evelyn cut her off. She had called the woman numerous times; at each call Helena's servants were instructed to inform Evelyn of her absence. Her appearance that evening was shocking to say the very least.
- "I've been in jail for weeks, you didn't give a sh*t then! Now here you are—"
- "Better late than never—"
She glared at her sister.
- "The hell! Its because of you assholes I was there in the first place!"
Helena looked at her nails; she was indifferent to the woman's plight. People such as Evelyn were never able to take responsibility for their personal screw-ups; it was always the fault of others, but never because they were clearly worthless. Helena had zero patience for such attitudes and the people in whom they seemed engrained.
- "You'll have to excuse me, but please, explain to me how that would be my fault?"
- "And Cristof's!"
Helena leaned back amusingly; she wondered if she could get away with murdering the drunkard in the room where she sat poisoning the air with her foul language. For one false word against her father, she would surely snap the pitiless creature's neck.
- "I'm quite curious of how you'll spin this into Daddy's supposed neglect of you. Dear sister, please be so kind as to inform me HOW Daddy's lack of care for you resulted in you walking into this hotel looking not only like a person who had clearly been imprisoned, but also smelled as though such confinement had been in a bottle of cheap whisky rather than a prison cell."
Evelyn kicked the bag out of her way as she approached her older sister. As repulsed as Helena was with her and her impoverished state, the feelings were mutually felt against the snobby woman. She hated everything about the woman she had only seen and spoken to but for a handful of time in her life. Helena was a spoiled socialite who believed the sun rose and set for her and her dysfunctional family. Given the chance, Evelyn would have sold all that she knew to the highest bidder. Unfortunately, that chance had yet to arise.
- "You cannot be this stupid, Helena! Actually, I'm a little insulted that you would think so lowly of my intelligence to think that I wouldn't realize that the only reason you're here is for your grandkid!"
Helena eyed the woman for a moment; she wondered if she would actually say the words that would cause her death. But for the bastard child's unfortunate emergence to the land of the living, she would have nothing to lose in ending Evelyn's life. Alas, her desires would have to wait until she found the child and disposed of her properly.
- "My grandchild? What exactly are you talking about, Evelyn?"
She had spoken in a frighteningly calm tone that would terrify even the most rowdy of children. Evelyn heard the deathly coldness in her sister's voice; knowing the woman was proving quite unstable, she took a step backwards but did not bother to change her own angry tone.
- "You can act as dumb as you like Helena. You and I both know you aren't here for me or out of the kindness of your stone heart. You want the kid back, but you already know that I don't have her."
Helena nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders.
- "Whatever will help you sleep at night, dear. Now, if you don't mind, it would be wonderful if you would change. I suppose you're hungry; prison food cannot be too appetizing… or fulfilling."
The younger woman eyed her sister knowing she had ulterior motives for her 'visit' of sorts. However, she could not deny that her stomach had been growling for some time. While she could have done without her dinner date, she knew Helena would never skimp on a high priced meal for herself, even if she had to begrudgingly drag her along behind her.
- "Fine, but I'm not eating anything you'd find in your garden soil."
Helena was growing impatient with the woman, but she kept her temper at bay; there was much she needed to learn.
- "Of course not! Shriveled up hot dogs sold from a man who appears to not have bathed in days is more up your alley than expensive delicacies. I'll attempt to chose a restaurant accommodating of your exquisite desires and needs."
Evelyn ignored the final comment. Instead she picked up the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt her sister was so kind to have purchased for her.
- "Oh Helena, aren't you generous! Sears! Did you put a gas mask over your face as you walked into such an inexpensive, low-classed department store? Surely the scent of cheap fabric made you faint. Are you okay? Shall we call the doctor?"
Helena shook her head in disgust.
- "And that's your problem Evelyn; you're an ingrate; this is why you're in the state you're in! Daddy cared for you your entire life—"
Uncaring that the woman sat in the room, Evelyn disrobed; she took her time to get dressed knowing Helena would be uncomfortable.
- "Yes, $100 a month… I was sooo rich. I'm so grateful—"
- "You weren't begging for food on the street! That allowance provided you food in your mouth, clothes on your filthy back, and a place to live! It was sufficient!"
Evelyn shook her head.
- "It was BEAR minimum at best! And then he abandons me because he realized that I couldn't be bought or controlled and left me to fend for myself with Cody—"
Helena felt her blood pressure rising as she defended her father's name from an alcoholic fool with whom she unfortunately shared DNA. It was a mere unlucky draw of the short stick that resulted in their familial connection.
- "YOU chose to marry that good-for-nothing! You wanted to be a married woman, so Daddy allowed you just that! He didn't have to continue providing for you; that was your husband's job! Do you think when I married Mikkos he cared for me?"
The younger woman slammed her hand onto the desk. It astounded her that the woman was unable to see how different their situations had been. She was not put into a position where she had the opportunity to marry a billionaire as Helena had been. She grew up in Shempville, New Jersey; it was known for quite a bit, but billionaire husbands were not one of its attributes.
- "Are you THIS out of touch with reality that you can't see the difference between the ways we were raised?"
Helena allowed her eyes to graze over the woman; the differences were apparent.
- "Believe me, it isn't too difficult to see."
Evelyn shook her head as she took her seat. She grabbed the shoebox she had found in the bag and rested it onto her lap. She stared at Helena for some time thinking of all she had given up because of her; the hatred within her grew with each breath the other woman took.
- "What amazes me Helena, is that you sit here judging me and calling me names under your breath, but your kid f*cks up and who did Daddy come running to, to clean up the mess? Me. You don't even have the decency to say thank you. All you know how to do is turn your nose up at me. Well you know what? F*ck you."
Because this was the conversation Helena needed to have, she counted to ten in order to calm her nerves. She continued to remind herself that she could not murder the woman… yet; she needed to learn what had been done all of those years ago and to what extent Evelyn possessed disreputable knowledge of her beloved son.
- "My kid did nothing! You shut your—"
Helena attempted to interrupt the woman, but Evelyn continued to speak; she would have been damned if this woman failed to allow her to release the anger she had been feeling within her. She had been cheated her entire life by that family; the pattern would stop from that moment onward. She had nothing else to lose but her freedom, as a trial against her remained pending.
- "I've shut my mouth for way longer than I should've. I've had your f*cking kid's bastard with that spoiled waif you assholes took in… I didn't sign up for that sh*t, Helena!"
Flashback
He stood at six feet five inches tall. His hair was as white as snow and glistened in the sunlight; but for its color, the waves that ran through them could certainly have been confused for that in the ocean's tides. His face was narrow with a twinge of an olive complexion emblematic of his European heritage, defined by a pristinely cut beard matching in color to the hair on his head. Finally, his eyes, the feature most notable of this dapperly gentleman, stared into the eyes of his admirers from behind a pair of the most expensive and custom-made frameless glasses. Cristof Komensky, a well-established man of the former Czechoslovakia, residing in the nation's capital was, for lack of a better word, a ladies man.
He was fluent in multiple languages, charismatic in his deeply timbered voice when he spoke, and affectionate with those women he found exceptionally attractive. While many women adored and fawned over him, few captured him. This was the essence of his charm.
And so he stood holding the child, his great grand-daughter, in his arms (he would never have referred to her as such in front of his beloved daughter, Helena). He looked at the girl his daughter refused to see or refer to as anything but a bastard and smiled as their identically shaped eyes met for the very first time.
- "You truly are a beautiful child, little one. It's quite a shame how you came to be otherwise you would be a welcomed addition to this family… especially for your grandmother. Unfortunately, it seems poor genes run in that side of the family."
He gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek then rang the doorbell of the house before which he had stood for the past ten minutes. He had never been a man of nerves, but the request of which he was about to make forced them to surface.
It had been several years since he had seen her… his daughter, Evelyn. He looked at the filth piled on the porch steps certain that the interior of the dilapidated house would be much worse; his heart hurt for her, but she had made her choice. While admittedly he did not provide for her the way he had for his other daughter… the legitimate one… he gave her enough on which, given the time, with a job or career of her own, she could have been comfortable. Instead, she allowed greed and a foolish pride drag her to such a miserable lifestyle.
- "Let's hope, little one, that your aunt accepts you… otherwise I haven't a clue on what I'll do. If I could, I would take you in myself, but we both know that is not possible; your grandmother would never forgive me."
She opened the door shocked to find him on the other side of her threshold holding a child who clearly belonged to his family.
- "Cristof."
Regardless of any estrangement between them, he did not appreciate a child of his referring to him by his first name; however considering the nature of his business at her doorstep, he knew it best to allow such disrespect to pass.
- "Hello Evelyn; how are you?"
She thought about the mounting bills, the lack of money with which to pay those bills, and her inability to feed her mentally handicapped son and his waste of skin father; how else could she be but miserable? And there he was, her father, dressed in a luxury suit which probably cost more than her rent and debt, standing on her porch with broken and splintered steps asking how she was; the taste of hunger in her mouth grew bitter at the sight of his smiling face.
- "Oh, I'm fantastic Dad; thank you for asking! Is this your new child? I would think at your age you would have stopped having children you have no interest in."
He could not blame her for being angry with him. In the years since she had married, he could have checked in with her to learn if she were living as comfortably as the man had promised she would. He could have sent her larger amounts of checks for her birthday, Christmas, and Mother's Day. He could have done plenty so that she could live… better; but he had not. As he stood on her doorstep awaiting entry into her 'home' it was evident that he had abandoned her. He had no excuse for it.
- "If I had known, I would have—"
She scowled at his regret.
- "Sent me a check for $100 so that you could sleep good at night knowing that your little bastard was living in the lap of luxury?"
He sighed in annoyance. Such rude behavior was intolerable to a mannerly man such as he; his tolerance for her grew shorter as she refused him entry.
- "I understand your anger Evelyn, but may I please come in?"
She curtly waved her arm stepping aside to allow him to pass.
- "So, to what do I this pleasure?"
She eyed the baby when she spoke; the look did not go unnoticed by him.
- This child is… you niece—"
Evelyn shook her head in disbelief; she was in her thirties, which put Helena well into her forties, if not already her fifties.
- "Does this kid have down syndrome or something?"
He grimaced at her odd question.
- "Excuse me? No, she is perfectly healthy!"
- "Well then you'll have to excuse my ignorance, but I'm pretty sure that bitch is too old to be having any more spawns than the three she already has."
Once again he wanted to correct her, especially in regard to his dear Helena who had done nothing to this woman she barely knew, but since he held the child of whom he needed her to take care, he continued to bite his tongue against her insolence.
- "Your sister has two children; Sofie was a stillbirth."
She rolled her eyes.
- "Oh it's not as though I'm on the Christmas list or anything to know that."
He cleared his throat at her uncaring attitude. He could not very well blame her as she had been quite young, perhaps eight or nine, when it had occurred. Nevertheless, one would have thought the death of a child would strike some compassion in her; clearly, in regard to her, he was mistaken.
- "I suppose I should've been clearer: this is your great-niece, Samantha. Her parents are too young to care for her properly… actually—"
She jumped from her seat.
- "Stop speaking."
Her sudden movement caused him to do as he had been told. He watched as she paced back and forth; she was piecing together the reason for his visit. She had not seen Cristoff since Danny had been born some years prior (she tended to forget the boy's age seeing as the doctor continuously, on the few visits her son had had since he had been born, informed her that he was mentally far younger than what he actually was; so she gave up worrying about his actual age and referred to him as whatever age the doctor had decided). And now he sat in her filthy living room holding a child in his arms, informing her that it was her great niece whose parents were incapable of raising her. She sensed something off with his story and visit.
- "And why exactly did you bring it here? You think I can take care of it?"
Keeping his eyes directly on her, he slowly nodded his head.
- "That is why I'm here—"
She cut him off.
- "LOOK AROUND DAD! This isn't the mansion I'm sure you and your beloved Helena are accustomed! This is barely a shack, and it's filled with more residents than I care to count."
He finally looked about the room. From what he could tell, there was not much to the house; it was one level and could possible cover a mere tenth of the space on the first floor of his home. There did not appear to be a formal dining room, the room in which he was being received was, disregarding his accustomed space in his palatial home, rather small and overlooked an even smaller kitchen whose floors did not appear to have been mopped in months. Cristof, without a tour of the house only needed to imagine the size of the sleeping quarters, of which he hoped there was more than one; it would have been inappropriate for his granddaughter and her son to share a room with Evelyn and her husband. Looking at the woman, he could only imagine the things that would go on in their bedroom.
- "There are others beside Cody and Daniel living here with you?"
She laughed at the man's ignorance; he was not used to the four, eight, and twelve legged friends that remained perpetual squatters in the homes of the lower class. This was a whole new world to him. As if on cue, one scurried past his foot.
- "Yea, Dad! There goes Mickey right there! You might want to be careful so that they won't scuff your fancy shoes; he likes to intentionally step on your feet just so you're aware he's there. Now Minnie, she shouldn't be too far behind. I think she might be pregnant so please be careful where you stand. I'd hate for her to lose her babies… mother's pain, I'm sure Helena can tell you about that."
He knew at that moment that he should have left with the child, but there was nowhere else to turn. He would not give the girl, a member of his family, to strangers; he could not do that to his Helly… she would want to see her one day. Despite the way in which she came to be, the child was in fact the final reminder of her son. He refused to believe his daughter would not want such a thing. The woman's world had once again been turned upside down. She was in mourning; she would change her mind. And when she did, he would be able to give his little girl what she desired: her beloved son in the form of his only child. Until she realized what she truly wanted, Evelyn would have to do.
- "Listen to me; I know you're angry with me; and I probably do not have any right to ask this of you, but this child is family. She needs someplace to stay—"
She rolled her eyes.
- "So give it to her grandmamma—"
He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief; the house was exceptionally stifling in the spring's heat. He decided he would need to provide this family with a new home; this place would be unacceptable for the child.
- "Look, Helena cannot take her in because no one is to know of her existence."
She stared at the sleeping baby in the man's arms. While Evelyn found her to be incredibly stunning, she was not and could not be her problem; there was enough on her plate.
- "It seems to me as though it's a wee bit too late for that. Look at her, Cristof; SOMEONE has had to have seen her!"
He looked down at the baby. He would not leave until she was in his daughter's arms.
- "No, they haven't. Evelyn, you have to understand that Stavros is a married man; he can't—"
A light bulb went off in her brain.
- "Ah, so he's the baby daddy! It's all making sense now. He got some other broad pregnant, didn't he? Now Daddy, why does that sound soooo familiar to me?"
Cristof was shocked by the irony, felt more disgusted being that he was, unbeknownst to Evelyn, in some way being compared to a rapist. Despite his faults, he loved his wife and had deep feelings for Evelyn's mother; their acts together were consensual and from that love. Stavros' act against that innocent girl, on the other hand, was in no way comparable to this. That boy… man… animal… had, out of some sick idea of loyalty, taken advantage of the girl. Alas, Cristof was not shocked to learn the truth of what had occurred; his grandson had always shown signs of sociopathic tendencies. As he thought about the man, Stavros had been doomed from the moment Helena had decided to remain with her pitiful excuse of a husband. Nevertheless, he would never tell Evelyn such things about the man; this all was to remain within the family.
He shamefully looked at the baby.
- "I deserved that, I did."
She scoffed at his high road stance.
- "And then some. So let me get this straight: you want me to raise this… thing because Helena's little sh*t cheated on his wife and now everyone's protecting him because none of you want the tart who married him to know about it?"
She watched as he nodded his head hoping that she would buy the web he spun. However, having married a con, she could sense more to the story.
- "Well, where's the whore?"
- "The whore?"
- "Yea! That thing's mother. Where is she? Why's she able to lie on her back, shoot this kid out and not take care of her responsibilities? Why are you here asking dear Aunt Evelyn to take care of her kid? What's her deal?"
He had anticipated the question. This was where the situation became complicated. He knew he had no other choice but to tell her the truth, but he very well could not give it to her in its entirety; he had to color in the transparent shame. If he informed this woman of what had been done, Helena would never forgive him. So he gave her only what she needed to know.
- "The mother is a young teen who cannot care for her. She hasn't any money of her own, a job, or even skills with which she could find suitable work; she is the young girl Mikkos unwisely brought into their household some years ago. It has been decided that at this time, she needs to focus on her education."
Evelyn's mouth fell open. She was ignorant about most things, but she had watched enough television to know how illegal, at least in the States, it was to sleep with a young teen. She found herself amused by the situation. With a large grin on her face, she squatted down before her father. Not wanting to wake the baby and be bothered by her cries, she whispered excitedly at the man.
- "Wait one minute! You're telling me, Steven—"
- "Stavros."
- "Whatever! You're telling me he popped the cherry of a little girl and now this kid can't care for her kid, and he doesn't want his wife to go all Lorena Bobbitt on his d*ck because she's married a pedophile!"
Cristof narrowed his eyes at the vulgar woman.
- "Don't be crass!"
She shook her head in astonishment.
- "You decided to bring one bastard child to another so we can what? Bond? Yea, no Dad; I don't think so. Give that thing up for adoption or something, but I don't want it. I've got enough problems of my own to be wrapped up in some crazy cover-up. Tell Stavros to keep it in his pants next time because I don't want to see you here with another one of his spawns next year 'cause my answer isn't going to change."
Clearly she was unaware of the recent family events.
- "I know this won't change what I didn't do for you in the past, but I will support you once again, Evelyn. You don't have to live in this squalor. I'll purchase a home for you and send you a check for two thousand each month to cover the mortgage; that should be more than enough to care for you and the child."
She retook her seat and silently stared at him for some time; she needed to process his request and the offer she had just received. Looking at the state of her home and the problems she and Cody were having, she could have used the money, but he was giving her his lowest bid. After everything she had lived through over the past twelve years because her father refused to support her, she would have been damned if she lost yet another battle of the war of bastardization with this man. She deserved better than second best.
- "Have you forgotten the two other mouths I need to feed? Unlike you, I can't leave my kid to starve, Cristof—"
He spoke softly when responding to her accusation; he did not want to lose her.
- "I didn't leave you to starve."
She ignored his defense.
- "Well, seeing as I do have an entire family, my suggestion is that you give the kid away if you're so concerned with Helena's kid's secret screw-up because I can't and I won't give this little Komensky everything she deserves."
He wondered if she would be so thoughtless as to turn down such a large amount of money. In the years since he had last seen her, her foolish pride did not seem to diminish. She was still the same stubborn and arrogant woman who could not escape her sense of entitlement. He looked down at her. This was no way to be. He had given her what he could in consideration of the time and the way in which she had come to be. He did not have to do all that he had done for her, but he did from the kindness of her heart. Surely, in some way she understood this.
- "Evelyn dear, please be reasonable. This is quite a bit I'm offering you. You don't want to live and raise your son this way, do you?"
She glared at him. She wondered if he would have been seated in the same position in Helena's large and luxurious living room holding her own filthy little ankle biter asking that spoiled bitch to take in her child. Looking at the man with his nose turned up at her and the as though he were in some way better than she, there was no wondering; he would not do it because she was not deserving of such treatment.
She was a bastard; the product of an affair with some whore dancing for a bunch of rich old men with nothing better to do with their bottomless pit of money. So who was this child, belonging to an orphaned charity case teen, to have such a high price tag placed on her head?
- "Let the princess deal with her kid's bastard and dysfunction that'll come because his little soldiers kamikazed their way out of the packaging. If this thing is, after all of these years, the reason you're giving me money then you can keep it. I was of no use to you before, and I won't be of any now. I'm not helping you. Get out."
This was of what he had been afraid. There was no other place for her to go. This was it. He could not take no for an answer; she had to take the child.
He tried once again.
- "Evelyn, three thousand."
She stood still for a moment before smiling greedily at the man; her life was finally turning around.
- "Fine. Give me the kid."
Remaining in his spot, he met her greedy gaze; surely she could not have though it would come to her so easily. There was much to discuss before such an agreement could be made.
- "There are conditions."
He reached into his suit pocket for the documents.
- "There are a few things we must get straight before I begin providing for you once again. The most important being that Helena is to never learn of my visit or the child's existence in your home. You are to provide for the girl as though she were your own. I will provide for you enough money to purchase a suitable home in which to raise her."
She indifferently nodded her head.
- "Fine."
He spoke sternly with his daughter in the hopes that she would understand all that he was saying to her. While she was far from his Helly, she was still his daughter; seeing her live as she had been was disheartening. He hoped that with his help, a change would come.
- "Evelyn, I am giving you a second chance on a new life. You have the ability to leave Cody—"
She rolled her eyes.
- "I'm not leaving my husband, Cristof. You might not believe me, but he's a good man."
He sighed.
- "Alright. Just… just make something of yourself."
- "Just give me the kid."
Having nothing left to say to the woman, he handed the child to her.
- "Meet your daughter Samantha, Evelyn. Good luck."
And so he walked out of the house never to see his daughter or great-grandchild again. He could not believe the shame that existed in that family; his heart hurt with regret at the mixing of the Cassadine and Komensky blood.
End of Flashback
The older woman was stunned. Evelyn was more ignorant than she had even thought possible. Helena stared at her sister, a woman with whom she had had no contact for nearly a decade, and whose recent calls she had avoided… up until recently… over a month after burying her dear father.
Stefan lightly knocked on what used to be his bedroom door. At the sound of his cousin's soft grant of entry, he slowly opened the door. He smiled at the sight before him: Sam was fast asleep clutching her bear as Alexis, sitting against the headboard with her eyes closed, held her in her arms.
- "I'm happy to see that this room does not smell of… roses."
Without bothering to open her eyes to shoot the man a look, she merely smiled.
- "As you said Cousin, my baby protects my honor even after sharing more information than necessary."
- "At least you know Samantha knows how to share with others."
Finally opening her puffy and red eyes, she smirked at the man; he wore long flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. Very few people were able to see the real Stefan outside of his formal appearance; Alexis loved seeing her cousin dressed as a normal person.
- "Flannel should be your signature attire, you know. It brings out your eyes."
Noticing the state of her eyes, he moved toward the bed and sat at its corner. For a moment they each sat at opposite sides of the bed watching each other; each feeling the other's burden, but neither truly wanting to address it. Stefan, however knew the silence could not last forever.
- "You've been crying."
She rolled her eyes at him.
- "When aren't I crying these days, Stefan? I swear that's all I do: eat, drink, cry, and oh yea, according to this one, fart."
He laughed to himself.
- "It's rather difficult to forget that one."
She rolled her eyes at the man.
- "Honestly I'm waiting for the day when my tears will stop because I've been at this from the day Cousin… or should I say, Uncle Mikkos, brought me into that horrible house."
Stefan was shocked to hear her refer to his father as uncle; as he had been ignorant about her identity and relation to the family, he assumed she had been as well. It seemed he had been mistaken.
- "How long have you—"
She knew the man had known something. From the moment he had returned from Greece, he stared at her and watched every move that she and Sam made. This must have been the reason.
- "I've been having dreams and flashing memories about the accident… and my parents. I'm assuming Mikkos told you about them?"
He felt his heart stop for a moment at the mention of her memory about her parents returning; he wondered if she might know more about her family as a whole. He knew he would have to answer her question, but he wanted and needed to know more of what she knew; perhaps it would cushion the blow she would receive from the information his father had given him.
- "He did somewhat, but there's more than enough time for us to discuss this. What have you been remembering? Is it bad? Were you mistreated? Is that—"
She shook her head. If only that had been the reason for her tears; if only her parents had mistreated her, then maybe their deaths and the impact it played on her childhood would have been less painful to her now, nearly twenty years later.
- "Do you see this little one, Stefan?"
Without a word, he nodded his head. It was a rhetorical question for which no answer was truly expected.
- "I have never felt more blessed in my life than to have her here in my arms. When I love at her, there is nothing but love that fills my heart. When she hugs me and tells me how much she loves me, I feel as though the world has stopped spinning and no one else in it matters but her. That's how much I love her, Stefan."
His heart broke into pieces as she spoke about a child for whom he held a death certificate, medical records, and an autopsy report. But then again, he looked at Sam and he could see a six year old Alexis asleep in a large bed in a sparsely decorated room. When he looked into his crying cousin's eyes, he saw the little girl who captured their hearts. He saw Sam, not this dead child Andrea.
- "I can see that, darling."
She played with Sam's braid for a moment, composing her thoughts.
- "Tonight, she told me that she was terrified of leaving my side because she's afraid I'll die."
- "That's horrible!"
She sniffled. She appreciated that her cousin was allowing her to get everything off of her chest; if her thoughts and feelings had festered any longer, she would certainly have exploded. She looked down at her daughter just as a tear fall onto her sleeping face; she was in love with a little girl whose arrival into the world was nothing but hateful, cruel, and abusive. It seemed almost wrong how little any of that mattered to her.
- "Yeah, it is. She told me that no one around her has a mother. She said that they're either dead or mean like Evelyn and Helena. She said she's the only one with a mommy and she doesn't want to lose me. My baby girl, my little chipmunk, stared at a picture of my parents feeling sorry for me because they were dead, and you know what ran through my mind the entire time, Stefan?"
She stared at him awaiting a response almost hoping that he might not want to know because in that way she would not be forced to verbalize her horrible and shameful thoughts. Putting her thoughts to words would make her the most horrible and selfish person to ever walk the earth; more so than Stavros. But he asked her.
- "What was it?"
She sighed deeply as she looked at Sam who snored softly in her sleep.
- "I was thanking God that these people, whom I remember loved and who loved me back, were dead!"
He reached for her knee but she folded them into herself, shaking her head; she did not want his comforting words.
- "Alexis, it's okay to feel—"
She cut him off before he could go any further.
- "No Stefan, it's not. My mother was beautiful, petite and slim with blonde hair and green eyes. She called me chipmunk and braided my hair in French braids just as I do with Sam. She's reminded me everyday that I was the most beautiful person in the room and that she loved me more than the moon and the stars—"
- "And you do the same with Samantha."
She wiped a tear from her face.
- "And my father… he was exceptionally handsome. I guess I look like him."
She held out her locket for Stefan to see. There were no pictures of his uncle around their childhood home; in fact, he had not even known of an Andreus Cassadine's existence until he read the file. As he looked at the man's file, he found himself rather intrigued and a bit lost in the image.
- "You do look quite a bit like him, Cousin."
Alexis nodded silently. As she thought about her parents, she felt as though she were reading a book for the very first time, and she was the main character. Her life was unfolding slowly before her very eyes. With Stefan, it seemed that he was watching the episode of her life alongside her; she no longer felt so lonely.
- "His eyes were just like Mikkos'; they were dark and mysterious, but my father's were softer…. I suppose that's more of a guess than anything seeing as I've spent my life avoiding making eye contact with your parents."
He finally handed the locket back to the woman.
- "Haven't we all."
In truth, for Stefan, it was quite easy to avoid his parents' gaze as neither seemed to look his way in the first place. He had come to learn from an early age that he was practically invisible in his home. Such was his plight when stuck in the shadow of Stavros' golden rays. However, for the first time, he wondered if there could have been more to the story.
- "But Alexis, I don't believe you grateful for your parent's death. Look at all that it's cost you."
She smiled sadly at the man.
- "And yet, look at all that it's given me, Stefan. I remember feeling so loved, so very loved by these people, and feeling as though my mother was the most beautiful person in the world and wanting to be just like her when I grew up, but still sitting here missing what little of her I remember, I'm grateful she's gone. I'm happy I survived a car crash that killed my parents because then I got you, and then Nikolas, and finally her."
It was a sick twist of fate that in order for her to have been most happy, she had to lose her happiest memories, and instead be bombarded with hateful and horrible ones. Life had a funny way of working out, but it seemed on far too many occasions she was the butt of its jokes. But this time it was different; while she carried the scars of her unhappy childhood, but held in her arms the result of it. For once, pointing to her daughter, she felt as though she beat life's at its own game; she made it to the other side.
- "Without all of that happening, I would never have had you, Stefan… and I guess you wouldn't have had me. And without being cocky or anything, you needed me; you were dying in that house."
He lied back onto the bed thinking about all that she had said. Despite his disagreement with her concerning her feelings about her parents' death, he could not argue with her on her final point. That was what made him most sad; he felt selfish to admit that in some way he was also grateful for his cousin's loss because he made his childhood all the more tolerable… and less lonely.
- "I was and I did need you… more than you know. And as I've always told you, Alexis, you might have thought I was your saving grace, but in reality you were mine. I had the servants who cared for me and made sure I was fed. Mikkos, while he wasn't exactly the most attentive father, he made sure I focused on my studies, but that was it. Honestly, I think in my twelve years before you fell into our laps, I don't think anyone ever hugged me or told me I mattered to them. That was you, Alexis. And I thank you for that."
- "Well, there's no thank you that's really necessary, Cousin; you've always been easy to love."
He smiled at the woman. There has always been something about her, from the moment they had met, that made him want to protect her from the world; even as a terrified four year old, she had always been his best friend. And looking at her with tears in her eyes, he could see into her soul and the pain that threatened to drown her; he would save her.
- "Alexis—"
She shook her head.
- "I just wish… with all of these memories resurfacing… the pain—"
She caught herself mid-sob; it was all beginning to get too much. She could feel the false memories of her childhood and the suppressed events crashing on top of her. She needed it to stop. She did not want to remember anymore.
- "It's just too much. I wish the pain had remained hidden wherever it was because I can't be a good mother to Sam and care for her issues if I'm falling apart, Stefan. I've got Stefan on one side of me telling me that I shouldn't love her, then these memories of my parents and me grateful that their dead, but the pain of it all punching me in the gut—"
He could see it wrapping itself around her. As much as he would have loved to fight the pain for her, he could not; his father had, for far too long, locked her into a box where she remained hidden from her reality. He would never do that to her; it was time she face it head-on and finally dealt with all that life had given and taken from her.
- "You're mourning Alexis; you have to let your body go through the process. There's so much… you'll get through it, darling…. And you know that you won't be alone. I'm here for you."
She stared at her little girl watching her sleep; she could do that forever and not feel the time pass.
- "All I want Stefan, is for my mother to hold me in her arms the way Sam wants of me every second of the day. She spent six years without a hug or a kiss or an 'I love you'; aside from you, I spent eighteen years without it. If suddenly my mother were returned to me, I'd probably be just as starved for her attention as Sam is for mine. But all in all, I never realized how much I missed it until I realized how grateful I was that it was gone. How twisted is that?"
He closed his eyes imagining what such a feeling would be like. He provided his son with more love than he had ever thought was possible of him, but it all seemed unfair, as he listened to Alexis speak, that neither he nor she truly know such a feeling. They had been cheated and he did not understand why. In time, he hoped to find the reason.
- "It's okay to feel conflicted; it's a lot to take in, dear. You're not going to get through this overnight."
She heard the change in his usually confident and reassuring voice; he felt it too… the pain. She slowly moved Sam from her arms and onto the bed. She covered the girl up and prayed that she did not wake up with a nightmare or have an accident; her daughter would be mortified.
- "Shall we continue this conversation in the living room. I know there's something weighing on your mind."
She pulled him up by the arm so they could make their way into the living room.
- "I suppose we can discuss it over tea."
She shook her head.
- "According to my daughter, I pee too much when I drink the tea. I think I'll stick to water."
He laughed aloud while silently his heart broke into a million pieces.
- "Samantha knows you quite well."
She rolled her eyes at the man as she pushed him from the room.
- "Shut up."
- "Papa, I need you."
Helena sleeplessly lied in her bed listening to Evelyn snore from across the room. Her mind swirled of thoughts of her father and all that he had done for her throughout her life. Papa, please. She confided in him in all of her troubles. He had protected and loved her unequivocally and without question or judgment.
- "Anything for my Helly. What do you need?"
Sorrow and pain were words that did not exist in her life with the man. Cristof Komensky was her hero, her champion, her idol. My Helly, why are you crying? While she had grown up with a mother, the woman was emotionally absent; she had cared more for the appearance of a perfect family, despite her husband's overseas affairs, and other family secrets she would have preferred remain quiet, rather than truly care for the girl.
- "Stavros had dinner with you last night, correct? He returned this morning."
But he was always there for her; regardless of the situation, her father stood by her side holding her hand and assuring her that everything would be fine… I'm… pregnant… even when it was not… and could never be.
- "No, he was not, darling; I haven't seen your son since the holidays."
Unfortunately, he was not always successful. Her daughter was born dead. Are you sure, Helly? Her son was now dead although most would say that he had been born with a dead soul in a living body, but she knew better.
- "Papa… Stavros MUST have been with YOU last night because he was NOT here."
Her son, like her father, was her protector. He only strove to make her happy and to please her. He only wanted to make her proud. Yes… the doctor confirmed it. I—. And he did everyday he walked the earth… except that day. That day, for the first time in his life, he ashamed her.
- "Yes Helly, your son was here with me.
Now she was alone. Her son was long dead, buried, and rotting in the ground. And the flowers she had planted on her father's grave had barely had a chance to bloom. I'm with you, my love. Always and forever. She had no one left in her life, and it hurt her more than the deaths of these wonderful men.
She rolled over knowing that sleep would never come as her father's words continued to embed themselves into her mind. It has been a long month of tears and grief, but she could not continue this way. She was Helena Cristine Komensky Cassadine; such tears were unbecoming of a woman of such families. She had been through and seen too much to allow the deaths of these men to collapse the strength of character they had built for her. She would not disappoint them. She would protect her son as her father protected her.
She pulled the covers back and stepped out of the bed. She walked toward the wall safe where she kept her purse and jewelry away from that conniving low-classed woman making a dent on the couch. She quickly found what she needed: the letter her father had written to her shortly before his death. While she knew the letter expressed his regret in all that he could have done for her, she had not understood all that he had been attempting to convey at the time in which he wrote it. She blamed it on his growing senility. Now, weeks later, it was clear.
My dearest Helena,
For as long as you have been the beat of my heart, I have tried to protect and shield you from the world's torments. I have given you all that I could afford, assuring that you were always the best, the most extravagant, and the most happy; I sadly realize, that I have failed you. There is no greater pain for me in knowing that I could not keep my beautiful little girl smiling all the days of her life.
Sweetheart, I wish in my final days I could tuck away your heart's pain and the continued sorrow of your dear Stavros' passing. I wish I could restore the smile onto your face from your teens and the day on which you married your husband, and return to you the bliss of that marriage and give you the birth of healthy and loved children instead of those you received. There is so much that I want to still do for you and I'm aware that I cannot. I am dying and will be gone, and you are no longer here. My beautiful Helly died so long ago; I can only hope that I might find her when I cross over.
Nevertheless, I have left to you something that I had hoped would release your captive heart from its torment, and might again put a smile on your face. You may not want it and you may be angry with me because of it and what I have done to preserve it, but that is fine; I would understand your reasons. In doing what I have done, I simply wanted you to remember the innocent smile on your Stavros' once youthful face. I want you to understand that he continues to live on and that all is not lost from your son's shortened life.
My love to you forever and always,
Papa
P.S. Remember the innocent.
She sat on her bed rereading the letter several times understanding exactly what the man had done. In truth, she had forgotten about the child's birth and had believed in her death… or at least the death she had allowed herself to believe after it had been taken from that little whore's arms. Like most unpleasant things that existed in her life, Helena had allowed herself to forget.
However it seemed by some twist of irony, her worthless son had inadvertently made sense of her dear father's final words to her. Having heard that Evelyn, after over a decade free of contact with the woman, had consistently attempted to reach her, it seemed things were falling into place. Her father's actions were clear.
Rereading the letter for a final time, she felt ready to face the reality of her veiled past.
She sat on the living room floor looking through the numerous pictures she had spread on the coffee table. Her baby, just as she had remembered her, was smiling, crying, laughing, and sleeping in the pictures. She was happy. She was thriving. She was beautiful. She had a family. And that was where it all ended.
Alexis picked up the newspaper clipping attached to the three death certificates. It read: Family of Three Dies from House Fire. According to the article, her baby, Andrea Natasha Davidovitch had died due to smoke inhalation. The child had struggled to survive for several days in the hospital, but eventually succumbed to her injuries. The article, in black and white ink, indicated that her daughter was dead. She could not believe it.
- "Stefan—"
She picked up the last picture of the child Mikkos had been sent. She studied it for some time. She shook her head in annoyance; none of this seemed right. She held it up to her cousin.
- "There is NO way in God that this child is dead."
Stefan's thoughts concerning Sam's identity continued to waver back and forth. He wondered whether or not he had attempted to see more in her than was actually there, or if she could possibly truly be who he wanted her to be. He wanted nothing more than to have that child who adored his cousin as deeply as the dead baby girl should and would have loved her, but he had other images that would destroy such a belief.
- "Alexis—"
She stood up and approached him at the chair where he had been seated.
- "You look at this picture Stefan Alexei Cassadine, and you look me in the eyes and tell me that you have not seen this child before. You tell me that those eyes are not the same as the ones on my daughter asleep in that room! You tell me that and I swear to you, because you've never lied to me a die in my life, I'll believe you."
He stood up to meet her pleading gaze; she did not want him to do anything that she had just requested. She wanted him to… tell her the truth. She wanted him to see all that she had seen in the month that she had cared for Samantha. She wanted him to say the words that would keep her world from collapsing on top of her.
- "Alexis, please."
But he could not; not when he had photographs from that child's autopsy. He refused to show her such a thing; it would only break her.
- "Why don't we just get DNA tests—"
She shook her head.
- "No, I want to first hear you tell me that you don't believe this crap. I want to know that you have not been sitting here looking at my daughter like she's some kind of fraud. I want to…"
She looked over to the corner where he once again appeared. He smiled as he cradled a baby wrapped in a pink blanket his arms. From the distance in which he stood from her, she was unable to see the child, but his presence with her indicated that she was not of the living.
- "I NEED to know, Stefan, that you don't think I'm going crazy; that the reason that man… thing… has been following and tormenting me is because Sam is who she's supposed to be."
Still holding the baby, he slowly approached her.
- "Say it, Alexandra. SAY it."
Keeping her eyes on the approaching ghost, she said the words that she had never thought would ever leave her lips.
- "Please Stefan, tell me that Sam is Stavros and my daughter."
Stefan followed her gaze; as he saw it, she was staring at nothing, but he knew better. He took her by the shoulders and forcefully turned her body toward him, but her gaze remained toward his invisible brother.
- "Look at me, Alexis."
Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks as she watched the man move more slowly than her normally did to her; he seemed to be taking an eternity and she needed to see the child in his arms. Why was he now taking his time when all he had done over the weeks was molest her every chance he had gotten.
- "He's coming, Stefan. I need to see—"
For the first time in his life with Alexis, the usually calm gentleman found himself losing his patience with the woman. He quickly ran from the room and grabbed the picture he had been shielding from her. He returned to find her in the same position, staring at a dead man only she could see.
- "I didn't want to show you this, but you've left me no other choice. You have to stop this Alexis!"
He held the image to her face and watched as her eyes registered what she was seeing. The baby was lying on an examination table with her chest cut opened into the shape of a Y. She had the same beautiful raven colored hair, full cheeks, and from what she could tell, the same… eye shape. She pushed it from her face so that she could continue to look at the now stagnant Stavros and baby. She needed to see if he held that same baby in his arms.
- "I can't—"
He stood in front of her, but she attempted to push him out of her way. For the first time, she wanted Stavros, not Stefan; only the dead man could give her what she wanted.
- "Please, Stefan! I need to see—"
He grabbed her face and stared into her tear-filled eyes.
- "What the hell do you think this is teaching you, Alexis? You're hiding from the truth—"
She met his gaze as she grabbed his arm still holding the image of the dead baby.
- "That's NOT the truth! THAT is NOT my daughter!"
He could see her impending collapse in her dying eyes. It caused tears to well into his own eyes.
- "We don't know that, darling! But you can't continue to hide from the truth; you have to face it! There is a chance—"
- "NO, there isn't!"
- "Stavros, whatever he's telling you it isn't true! Even if Samantha is yours, I'm sure he's filling your head with polluted thoughts—"
- "At least she'd be mine, Stefan."
He connected his forehead with hers. He needed to hold on to her; he could not lose her.
- "No, she would be his and you would still have lost her! Can't you see? You have to deal with what happened to you, cherie! You have to deal with what might have happened to your daughter! You can't keep living in this new life you've created for yourself and Samantha without dealing with all that's falling at your feet. Look at the coffee table; these are the many pieces of your life that I'm handing to you; you have to face them!"
Sitting on the coffee table underneath the images of her daughter, were birth and death certificates of the people who had given her life. According to the brief glance she had taken of them, she was Natasha Cassadine, born to Andreus Alexander Cassadine and Elizabeth Natasha Davidovitch. Her father was the younger brother of the man she had called cousin since she was made to live in his home, Mikkos Cassadine. Despite this, never in her years living with the man, had she seen any pictures of her father or heard his name uttered by a soul; with his death, her father ceased to exist in the memories of anyone who knew him. How could she face pieces of her life that did not conform to all she had known and been told? She wanted to remain ignorant if it meant keeping her daughter… the one asleep in the bedroom they shared. Nothing else mattered.
- "I don't know how. I don't… want to."
He understood her trepidation, but knew that it could not continue if the truth was to be had. There was too much in her life that was unaddressed or hidden from her for one reason or another; it had to stop. His beloved cousin was breaking and for once, he could not save her. Leaving his own tears to roll down his cheeks, he brushed away hers.
- "Alexis, I can only pick up the pieces and hand them to you; you have to want to put them together. If that child is who you claim her to be, there must be a reason for all this hell and torture both she and you have been put through. It's all inside of you to figure out why."
She shook her head as she pushed him away from her. She grabbed the picture of her baby she had held before him and walked into the bedroom she shared with her daughter. She turned on the bedside lamp before lying in the bed. She stared at the photograph for some time before looking over at Sam who had found her way to Alexis' side of the bed; she clutched the woman's shirt while burying her face into her side.
Alexis felt a wave of sobs run through her as she looked at the image and stared down at the child. She carefully detached Sam's hand from her shirt and lifted her into her arms. She noticed that Stavros had found his way into the room and sat at the desk staring at her as he continued to hold the baby in his arms. He raised his eyebrow.
- "Hmm, no cursing at me tonight, dear?"
She kissed the top of Sam's head.
- "Tell me she's… ours… please."
He blew her a kiss.
- "I can tell you who you are."
That was not what she wanted to hear. Holding her little girl in her arms, she knew that if she was not the same child she carried in her for nine months, it would not matter who she was; like her father, she would cease to exist.
While it was rather late, he knew that time was of the essence. He knocked on the suite door hoping his knocks would be heard even in slumber. They were.
Stefan, having looked through the peephole, quickly opened it; for the first time in his life, he was happy to see the man.
- "Father."
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