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I was falling asleep as I attempted to finish this, so certain sections are not edited. I'll look this over in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
Uncertain Confirmations
Alexis held her girl in her arms as she and Stavros continued to lock eyes with one another. They had been seated in silence for over an hour just watching each other's movements. For the first time in the numerous years she dealt with the man's abuse and now the weeks he had been haunting her, Alexis fearlessly welcomed his presence. In some way, his constant appearance meant what she knew all along: Sam was every bit her daughter. Regardless of anything that was said to her about the girl, Alexis was going to hold tightly onto her baby; no one would take her child from her again.
- "You know, I remember the moment I held her in my arms for the very first time. I counted every finger and every toe. I stared at her for the hour and seven minutes they allowed me to hold her studying her face so that I would never forget it… just in case. This is the face I remembered."
He was not interested in her thoughts of a child he never wanted. He could not have cared any less about the child. Listening to the unwanted waif lament over some bastard that so happened to be conceived from his… act… against her, was not the purpose of his visit; it was far deeper than that. Compared to what he knew about the woman, and what he so desperately wanted her to know about herself, the child's identity, false or not, meant nothing to him.
- "Just in case what, Alexis? She were returned to you? Come now, Stefan handed you proof—"
She shook her head as she held her daughter close to her.
- "It's a lie, Stavros; you know just as well as I do that it is."
He continued to cradle the baby in his arms mimicking Alexis' actions with Sam.
- "So you really don't care about your identity, Alexandra? Or should I say, Natasha? Or Alexis?"
She watched his every move hoping to catch a glimpse of the baby in his arms; unfortunately he kept her- or at least she assumed the child was female- well concealed. She needed to see the face; she had to see whether or not that baby's eyes matched Sam's… but then again, why would they?
- "Stavros, please; I don't care! The only thing I care about is my daughter—"
He snickered wickedly.
- "Whom you hope is in your arms… and not dead in mine."
She was at a loss for words as to how she could response to his correct observation. In her heart of hearts she knew that Sam was hers, but she needed confirmation… confirmation from a dead man she hated more than anyone she had ever known. Unfortunately, it seemed, holding a baby in his arms, he was the only one who knew the truth.
- "Please—"
Her voice was pleading, but he was left unmoved by her plight. Chuckling to himself, he scratched his pristinely groomed chin.
- "You know, I must tell you that I'm quite flattered, my dear. I always knew that some part of you always wanted me."
She was appalled.
- "I never wanted you Stavros!"
He stood from his seat and began pacing the room while rocking the silent baby. He hummed Chopin's Funeral March to the child before turning to look in Alexis' direction.
- "And yet you want me now."
- "Not for—"
She stopped speaking when he began caressing the child's cheek; she felt hypnotized by his actions. If only he would move closer to her… she just needed a peak.
- "Stavros—"
He smiled down at the child.
- "Alexis, I want you to understand one thing about all of this: regardless of what you say about wanting that… or this child, just remember that but for one person, you wouldn't have her… or me for that matter."
She was perplexed by his words. She would have said thank you as her daughter was the greatest gift that she had ever received, but she knew that was not his intention. There was clearly something more to what he was telling her.
- "What does that mean?"
He walked over to the side of the bed where she sat holding Sam in her arms. He stood over her for several moments before speaking.
- "You're not listening to me Natasha; perhaps that has always been your problem. You don't listen. I don't care about this or that child, my dear; I only care about you!"
As the final word left his lips, he dropped the baby from his arms causing the woman to let out a soundless scream. Holding tightly to Sam with one arm, she scrambled, with the other arm, to reach for the child before she hit the ground, but when blinked, the baby was gone; it vanished into thin air.
She felt her heart racing in her chest terrified by the baby's unknown fate. She stared at the laughing man wondering what he had done.
- "Where—"
He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.
- "What difference does it make if you yourself are… lost, my dear?"
She felt her arm being shaken slightly, but she could not take her eyes off from the arrogant man. She… she needed him…
- "Mommy?"
But she needed her more.
She had been asleep with her daughter wrapped in her arms; it was a dream. Certainly all that Stefan had told her was a dream… or was it? She was no longer sure of anything. Stavros appeared to her so frequently and vividly in both her sleep and in her waking hours, that it all appeared to merge. She had to question whether or not Stefan would truly tell her such a horrible thing about the girl.
But none of that mattered when she opened her eyes and met the tearful gaze of her six year old. She immediately sat up and took the girl's face into her hands. She looked into the child's tear dropped shaped deep brown eyes, knowing that such a feature could only come from one man. Her mind began to spin with thoughts and realizations of the lies she had been told in the past; she would address them in due time. For now, the only person who mattered to her was the little girl whose face matched her own.
- "What's the matter, chipmunk? Why are you crying?"
Sam leaned into her mother while rubbing her tiny belly.
- "I'm hungry and my tummy hurts."
Considering that she had regurgitated every bit of the food she had consumed that day outside of the piece of toast she had eaten before bed, Alexis was not surprised by Sam's hunger pain.
- "Oh, you are? Do you want some more toast?"
She shook her head as she rested her head against her mother's chest.
- "Mommy?"
With every use of that word from the child, Alexis felt a wave of joy fill with her that was quickly followed by a stabbing in her heart; if her conversation with Stefan had really occurred, there was a chance that this little girl, with whom she had fallen in love, was not hers. How long, if this were true, would it be before Sam was taken from her once again? How could she look in her daughter's eyes and promise that she would always be there for her when she herself had been told the same thing from her real parents; look at where that left her. Nevertheless, as she held the girl and felt deep to the core of every fiber of her being the connection between them, she knew Sam belonged to and with her.
- "Yes sweetheart?"
- "Can we go back home… please?"
Alexis, knowing that her wall had failed, felt tears rolling down her cheeks. If she could have taken the girl and run away from it all, the Cassadines, Stavros, and the McCalls, she would have. She would have taken her baby girl, her locket, Danny and little Duckbert, and started anew someplace where no one could ever make her doubt the love she had for her or her mere existence. She would raise Sam without the constant nightmares and hauntings from a past they would have both been better off forgetting. It would be ideal, but unrealistic… and hurtful to those who loved them. She could never leave Nikolas… or Stefan, even if he chose to believe the lies about the girl.
- "You don't want to stay here anymore? I thought you were happy being here until we found a different apartment?"
Sam shrugged her shoulders.
- "Cousin Stefan's not gonna let us eat regular food, Mommy. I don't want fancy stuff anymore… I just want a pop-tart… and Spaghetti-Os."
Alexis looked down at the girl and smiled.
- "You want pop-tarts and Spaghetti-O's? Together?"
Sam quickly sat up to stare at the woman.
- "No silly! I only want... Pop-tarts!"
- "Is that right?"
Sam nodded her head.
- "Uh-hmm; they don't make me sick like Greek food and snails."
She frowned as she got up from the bed and moved over to the duffle bag underneath the desk.
- "Baby, you didn't get sick from the snails. I mean you didn't like them and you spit them out onto the plate, which Uncle Stefan didn't like too much, but you didn't get sick."
Sam hopped off the bed and stood behind her mother who had just taken a seat on the floor while she searched the bag.
- "I bet I would've if I ate them! They were nasty. They tasted like dirt."
Alexis poked the girl in the stomach.
- "How you exaggerate! They weren't that bad!"
She began playing with the woman's hair, pulling it out of its ponytail and arranging it the way she wanted.
- "Snails live in the dirt!"
- "My smart girl, I suppose you're right!"
Sam smiled at her work of art.
- "Mommy, your hair would like better this way. Look at it!"
Alexis leaned over to her right where a full length mirror hung on the wall; Sam had pulled half of her hair to the top of her head, albeit slightly to the side, while leaving the bottom loose. It was not a 'do Alexis Davis would be seen wearing while in a courtroom… then again, she had not yet decided when she would return to school to complete her degree, so it appeared it would be acceptable while she figured out the turn her life had taken. She reached behind her, tickling Sam until she squirmed to her side; Alexis pulled her into her lap giving her a sloppy kiss on the cheek which caused the child to giggle.
- "That's gross Mommy!"
- "Just like Mommy's stinky farts, but you live with those right?"
Sam made a face at the woman.
- "I don't think you should eat Chef Boyardee anymore."
Alexis smiled widely at her daughter. She had never felt happier than to have the child in her life. Everything about her emerging personality made various memories of her short life with her parents return; Sam, despite Stavros' comments to the contrary, was very much everything her younger self had been before her parents were stolen from her.
- "Well, if I can't eat Chef Boyardee, you can't eat Mac n' Cheese anymore; something stinky comes out of you when you eat that too! It's only fair."
Sam gasped in shock.
- "Okay! I changed my mind! You can have it if I can still have mine!"
Alexis kissed the top of her daughter's head as she reached into bag.
- "Well, that's a good thing because I would've hated to throw all these things away."
She pulled out a can of Chef Boyardee as well as a microwaveable bowl of Mac n' Cheese. She had anticipated that her daughter, while they stayed with Stefan, would soon have withdrawals from the foods she had grown accustomed to eating in the month they had lived together. So, she packed the bottom of the duffle bag with poptarts, a few cans of Chef Boyardee, several individual bowls of Sam's favorite cheesy dish, along with other snacks they had in their kitchen cabinet.
Upon seeing what Alexis had packed, Sam tackled her mother to the ground, covering her face with kisses until she grabbed a package of S'more-flavored poptarts. Sitting on top of the woman, she waved it in front of the woman's face.
- "Thank you Mommy! Can I have this now… please?"
- "I dunno; Are you eating both in there, or are you going to share one with Mommy?"
- "I'll share half of one."
Alexis scooped the girl up into her arms and walked to the door.
- "I guess that's fair; you are the growing child here… although I like you tiny so I can pick you up and carry you everywhere like a doll."
- "I'll stay little for as long as I can!"
She opened the door.
- "You do that, chipmunk."
- "NO!"
Helena jolted from her sleep; her body and clothes were drenched in a cold sweat. She had had yet another nightmare, one she had not had in years, but seemingly resurfaced once that child had found her way into her family fold. It was all a nightmare that continued to occur in her sleep and in her actual life. Just when she thought it was over, something came into her life that brought it all back. That something, this time around, was Samantha.
She wondered what she had done to deserve such a thing. She had always tried to be kind, treated her husband like a king, and raised the beautiful boy she had been blessed to have, until—
- "Must've been one hell of a nightmare."
She did not know how she had not noticed the cloud of smoke that filled the dark air. The room reeked of the horrible scent of Evelyn's cheap American cigarettes; it sickened her.
- "Excuse me?"
Evelyn took another drag causing Helena to see, from across the room, the orange glow of her cigarette.
- "You had a nightmare, didn't you?"
Helena leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp.
- "Why are you awake… and sitting in the dark?"
The younger woman finally put out what had been her fourth cigarette of the night. She stared at her… sister… taking in the pitiful appearance she possessed: her hair was matted to her head, her expensive nightgown stuck to her tiny frame, and the crazy look she had seen earlier that evening, remained in her eyes. Staring at the woman, it caught Evelyn off guard how a person who had led such luxurious and prodigal lifestyle could still, at night, in the vulnerability of her own home, or comparably lavish hotel room, carry the same look of pain she, an impoverished and uneducated woman, did. It almost seemed implausible.
- "How would you expect for me to sleep, Helly, if you're muttering crap and screaming all night?"
Helena's face immediately blanched; she did not wan this woman to know anything about her or her family. Evelyn was of a different breed and caliber than she; her life and past were of no consequence. She had no right to her family secrets.
- "I apologized for having disturbed you; perhaps I should book a separate room for you."
Evelyn made a face. Helena was offering her a room in a five star hotel; clearly there were skeletons in her nightmarish closet of which she did not want her knowing. This could certainly be a lucrative opportunity for the pathetic woman.
- "Hmm, I mean, how long are we talking about here? I was thinking that maybe you might want to get me out of your hair or something. Wouldn't you prefer to get me a place to live?"
Helena looked sideways at the woman. She knew that in order for her father to have given her the child, he would have had to support her. She wondered how she could have arrived at such a penniless state.
- "What happened to the home Father provided for you and the child? And all of the money?"
Evelyn looked away from Helena. How could a woman who had never worried about a penny in her life, ever understand how very little three thousand dollars a month went to a family of four whose patriarch was an alcoholic, con artist, and schemer? Whose eldest, and only, child mentally handicapped and needed more care than she was financially able to provide. And then there was that extra mouth to feed in Samantha; the cause and the problem for her money woes; taking care of such a child was no picnic. Why should Evelyn have had to spend money on some bastard child whom no one seemed to want? No one did the same for her when she was a child; who was this child to take food from Evelyn's family's mouth when they did not have enough for themselves? Yes, she agreed to take the child in in exchange for financial support, but in the end, the money provided to her was rightfully hers; Cristoff was her father. She deserved it just as much as Helena, and certainly more than that child.
However, sitting in the jail cell for weeks, Evelyn realized that in spite of everything she thought and believed about Sam and Cristoff, she was no innocent; she drank with Cody, went along with his schemes, and enjoyed the perks of having such an income coming into her household for nothing… really. But that was it. They splurged incessantly on items they did not need, purchased cars on credit, and went on expensive trips. They lived a carefree life of which neither party had a care in the world… until the bills came in the mail and there was not enough money in the bank to pay them.
She had called her father for help, but eventually he grew tired of the couple's reckless spending. When the calls to him became incessant and redundant, he refused to aid them beyond a penny more than he had promised to send Evelyn each month; he left his daughter to be an adult with a husband who failed to provide her with all that he had promised.
All she had ever wanted was to live with her family a happy life free from life's burdens. In the beginning, she did not mind being forced to raise someone else's child because it finally seemed as though everything was turning around; her father was recognizing her, if only through the child, and providing for her, purchasing a home and vehicle for her use. For the first time in her life, Evelyn had felt as though she belonged to a family… one that she had always longed to have... One that Cody had promised to give her. And then as quickly as the feeling settled in, it vanished. She was alone.
In the end, she found herself once again in the same position she had been in: struggling to make ends meet, in a rickety shack as they were forced to sell their home due to increased financial issues, an alcoholic husband, a retarded son… and an unwanted mouth to feed belonging to a bastard child for whom her father was more than happy to provide. Evelyn was... miserable.
Alas, she could never tell any of this to a woman with a seemingly perfect life. Helena would never understand.
- "Look, we weren't talking about me and we're not going to start. You paid my bail and I guess I'm grateful, but, I obviously can't sleep on the street. I'm in your custody so if you want to get me my own room so I don't have to listen to you scream, talk, and yell at whoever in your sleep, that's fine, but—"
Helena interrupted her; her fear intensified at the thought of what the woman might have learned about her. She had long ago learned to not discuss certain things of her past; unfortunately it seemed that her subconscious had decided otherwise. This was unacceptable.
- "What exactly was I saying?"
Evelyn lied back onto the couch happy that the conversation easily returned to her self-centered sister.
- "Hmm, how should I know? Aside from screaming no a few times… I mean, that's really no different in any language, I guess—"
Her heart began to slow in pace as she let out a sigh of relief; there was no way an ignorant woman such as Evelyn, would have been able to understand anything other than English… and even that, her native tongue, she could not master.
- "So, I wasn't speaking in English?"
Attempting to shield her agitation over the obvious difference in education between herself and her sister… as well as among that supposed charity case whore, her strange cousin or bodyguard, his little runt, and undoubtedly that bastard child she had been forced to raise, Evelyn lit another cigarette. As she took a drag, she realized that she needed to learn to control her anger against those who looked down at her. Seeing them for who they were, she knew they were no better than she; the only difference between them was money. In fact, the more she attempted to put the pieces together of things she had heard from her father in the few conversations they had had, the secrecy behind Samantha's existence in her home, and even the resemblance she had seen between Alexis, a supposed distant relative, and her nephew Stefan, Evelyn became convinced of one thing: her sister's perfect family was just as screwed up, if not more, than hers. The image of an envious Cassadine, and perhaps Komensky, life was a mere façade; theirs was an ill-fated house of cards of whose destruction the treacherous woman gladly awaited.
- "Of course you weren't, Princess. You were talking in one of those weird languages you people talk over there in classy Europe that we ignorant Americans could not POSSIBLY understand. Don't worry, your nightmare's secrets are safe… for now. If I were you though, I'd be careful what I go to bed thinking about at night… you know, make sure they ain't in English!"
Helena, shaken by her sister's words, pulled the sheets off of her legs and stepped out of the bed. Watching Evelyn nonchalantly smoke her cheap cigarette, she was not certain that the woman was being entirely truthful; did she really not hear all that she might have said in her sleep? Seeing her as she was, Helena felt a chill run down her spine; she needed to get out of the room.
- "Well, as I said, I apologize for disturbing your sleep. I suppose I should take a shower; jet leg has taken its toll and I doubt I'll be able to fall asleep again. Perhaps you should take my absence as a time to rest."
Evelyn mockingly smiled at the woman knowing that she had made her uncomfortable. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
- "You're so thoughtful! Thank you. Enjoy your shower, sis!"
Grabbing a fresh nightgown and robe from her bag, Helena curtly nodded her head.
- "Goodnight, Evelyn."
Upon entering the bathroom, she threw her clothing onto the sink counter and leaned against the door; it was all collapsing around her.
He opened the door shocked to find the man standing there.
- "Father, what are you doing here?"
He immediately stepped aside to allow his father entrance into the suite. While he would have normally been annoyed by such a late and unannounced visit, Mikkos' presence would, for once, be of some use to Alexis; perhaps this man could inform them of the puzzle that was his file. Perhaps the man could return to her a solid grasp of reality; he had, after all, in some ways, taken it from her. The file was only a piece of her stolen life.
- "I was not expecting you."
Mikkos stared at Stefan, who promptly took his luggage and placed it by the door; the man was dressed in a pair of pajamas and a robe. This was the first time the older man could recall ever seeing Stefan in such informal attire; in fact, he was not certain if he had ever seen him dressed in anything but a formal suit. Being greeted and presumably welcomed into the man's quasi-living room, it was as though he were being invited into his private life. Never attempting to engage Stefan in conversation outside of that relating to Cassadine business and relaying messages to Alexis, Mikkos felt a slight sense of awkwardness in the man's presence.
- "[ahem] Well, seeing as you failed to bother to answer any of my numerous calls without any thought to their high importance, I figured it best that I come to you."
Stefan knew that it had not been wise to ignore the incessant calls of his absent father. He knew when the calls continued there was a chance of importance, but he did not care; what could have possibly been, aside of Nikolas, more important than Alexis and Sam?
- "I apologize for the inconvenience of having you come all this way, Father; I was tending to my family. They needed me."
Mikkos knew that the man was attempting to ostracize him before their conversation had even begun, but would not give him the satisfaction.
- "Well, aren't you lucky to be so needed Stefan; I'm certain you're more than willing to inform me of how vastly different such a desire is than from your neglectful childhood—"
The younger man, without waiting for his guest to sit, took his seat. He owed no respect to a man such as Mikkos.
- "And to what do I owe this visit?"
Mikkos shook his head in disgust at the man. Stefan had not offered him a drink, he sat without inviting him to do the same, and was quite rude… then again, such behavior was common of Stefan; he was always the more difficult of the two boys… or perhaps he had expected better from him. Nevertheless, taking a seat at the sofa, Mikkos placed his briefcase by his feet.
- "I assure you that this is not a social visit-"
Stefan traced the armchair's design with his finger as he anxiously awaited the revelation of the nature of his father's impromptu visit.
- "Certainly not—"
Before the younger man could make one of his infamous smart retorts, Mikkos interrupted him.
- "Where is Alexis? I had originally intended to seek her out first, but I thought it improper to stop by a young woman's home at such an hour; I did not want to frighten her."
Stefan indicated toward the short hall leading to the room currently occupied by his cousin and her daughter.
- "You would have been wasting your time; she and Samantha are staying here for the time being-"
- "Time being?"
Stefan did not feel it was his place or his father's business to disclose the nature of Alexis' mental state; such conversations were privileged to those with whom she felt comfortable speaking. He was certain Mikkos was not among the list of people who fit such a criteria.
- "Yes, the time being."
Sensing there was more to the story, Mikkos pushed further; with his wife on the loose and seemingly unstable, he needed more information than Stefan's cryptic two words.
- "Is she alright?"
Stefan stood from his seat and walked over to the dining table. He searched through the file until he found what he needed.
- "No, she is not—"
Holding the image that was forever burned into his memory, he turned to face the man.
- "How exactly could that girl... Young woman... be alright after you had me show her this?"
He threw the picture of the dead child onto the coffee table near where his father was able to view it. Despite how disturbing it was, the man needed to see again what caused Alexis such pain. He needed to see the pain he continued to cause.
- "No, she is NOT fine, you coward! How could she be after seeing the garbage you handed me? She's losing her… [ahem]… to put it quite mildly father, she is a wreck who now hates me for believing-"
Mikkos gaped at his son; of all things, he would have thought Stefan would doubt the file.
- "You believe it?"
Stefan stared at the man.
- "Father, you handed me a file containing the death certificates of a child whose name not only matched the birth certificate, but whose pictures were all identical to that taken at the time if that child's autopsy; what exactly were you expecting me to doubt when you specifically asked me to hand this file to Alexis? What did you want her to doubt? This is pretty damning information. Are you telling me that you doubt it?"
Mikkos did not know what to think of the information; he had given it to Stefan in the hopes that having spent some time with Samantha, he might be able to disprove the pictures. He had hoped that in seeing the image of the child in the picture, Alexis would... he did not know what she would do... he did not know his own niece... he did not even know himself anymore. He had done so much and yet so little all at once; much was expected of him, but he was not sure he could handle it all… not when going against her.
- "I don't know, Stefan—"
The younger man found himself losing patience with his father; 'I don't know' was not a sufficient response in the situation. He needed definitive answers... he needed to give his cousin hope.
- "Why are you here?"
- "I'd like to hear the answer to that question."
Both men turned in their seats shocked to find Alexis standing in the living room holding the suspicious child in her arms.
Helena sat on the bathroom floor contemplating what needed to be done. She had done everything to protect her son and his memory: she had her father pretend that Stavros had visited him that horrible night, she begged Mikkos, to no avail, to force that tramp niece of his to abort the bastard child, she threatened the girl and the life of her child if she ever revealed the child's paternity... She did everything she thought possible to protect the man. And then a miracle happened.
Flashback
She sat at the dining table staring at the empty seat that her son had once occupied. It had been a year since he had passed, but the pain in her heart had yet to diminish; the wound was as fresh as though she had just been stabbed in her heart... rather, stabbed where her heart had once been. Nothing she did in that year, be it planting beautiful flowers at his grave, providing him with the most extravagant tombstone beside his sister's equally adorned resting place, or simply spending nearly every waking hour there, reminding her sleeping boy how much she missed him, and how grateful she was to have known him, ever mended her shattered heart. There was nothing left to heal her... unless it meant returning him to her arms.
Her father, in that year, continuously questioned whether she would have liked to see the child... a visit... a picture... something... but she always answered the same: "that monster is NOT my Stavros! She is the bastard of that bottomfeeding whore Mikkos took in; she is NOT his". While it was true the child was, in fact, the sole reminder she might have of her son and perhaps his spirit living on, but none of this mattered; she could never accept a child such as she... and not when her mere existence would not have occured but for such an inhumane act. She could not do it... not when the culprit was her son.
She attempted to wipe the memory of the child from her mind and from any connection it might have to her son... her Stavros... her beloved, yet dead Stavros. Dead... dead... dead... It was a twist of fate that the man would perish but one month after the birth of his greatest shame. It was as though the Gods wanted to spare the child of an existence in a world with a man whose sole intention against its mother was to cause harm, rather than to show love. Death, and in the manner it had been done, was a punishment to him... but also to her, as his mother, for creating such a... monster.
But she loved him... in life... in death... in every way possible for a mother to love her son. She loved him.
- "Helena?"
She looked over to her husband, a man she barely tolerated, sitting across the long dining table. There was a time when she loved him unconditionally, when she worshipped the ground on which he walked, and when she longed to have his children. After years of silent dinners, love-making made more from obligation rather than love itself, and betrayals, that time had long passed.
- "Yes?"
Despite the fact that they shared a bed with one another, he knew nothing about his wife. It had been decades since he knew her. Sitting across the table from him was a tired, hateful, and evil stranger... whom he still, to some extent, loved.
- "I have some news of which I'm certain you might not care, but I suppose I should tell you anyway: the child Alexis—"
She slammed her silverware onto her plate. The life of one child already weighed on her mind; she did not need the memory of the death of her other to also occupy her thoughts.
- "Don't you DARE use that name for that whore! I already told you that I will not accept you to replace my baby with THAT girl!"
Mikkos stood from his seat and walked to where his wife sat. He would have taken the seat to her right, but that was the place Stavros occupied everyday of his thirty years of his life. Instead, he took that of her life, the place Stefan or Alexis, was forced to take.
- "I apologize. Alexandra-"
She nodded. She hated the name, as it was too similar, but she accepted it if it meant getting off the topic of that poseur.
-. "What about that whor- her?"
He did not know how he would tell her what had happened, but he was not certain she would care. Nevertheless, he figured she should know; the child was, in fact, her granddaughter.
- "You recall the child she had?"
How could she forget?
- "And?"
Mikkos had decided it would be best that Alexis remain ignorant of this fact. She had been doing so well since giving the child up that he did not want to set her back; she was fnally on the correct path after all that she had endure in the past two years.
- "It seems the baby has died."
Everything in the woman wanted to jump up and scream, grateful at the gift fate had handed her in the dead child, but she knew such a reaction would prove suspicious to her husband. As a result, she thought it best to remain calm and demure while rejoicing in her heart that the stain on her son's memory had been wiped clean.
- "How... unfortunate. When and how did this occur?"
He observed her for a moment before daring to speak. At one point in their marriage she would have easily said that he knew his wife as well as he had known himself, but all that changed. Helena was not the woman he had married 32 years prior; she was... unrecognizable. Where she might have been someone he knew as an acquaintance prior to their son's death, he now lived with a stranger.
- "The child and her parents perished in a house fire two nights ago."
She nodded solemnly. The thought of an infant dying was heart wrenching, but as she was no longer in possession of such an organ, she did not know how she should feel. While she rejoiced at her son's post-mortem victory, she, thinking of her Sofie, ached for the child's young soul.
- "And how have you come upon such information. I was under the impression that the child had been given up for adoption. I did not realize that in doing so, you were given updates and death notices."
- "I've been keeping tabs on the child."
She abruptly stood from her seat; she would have expected nothing less from her husband. He was always accepting, in his way, of the lowly creatures that seemed to make appearances in their lives. The child was clearly no exception.
- "Of course you were. Why don't you plan the bastards funeral? Bring ALEXIS with you."
She walked out of the room to call her father; she needed to speak with the only person, aside from Stavros, who ever put her first.
End of Flashback
But she was wrong, and she did not know what she would do about it… her… them. She needed to protect her son… much as he had done the same for her.
Sam, seeing a strange man she had never before seen, dressed in a suit with a brief case in hand, immediately hugged her mother tightly, gripping the woman's shirt and pressing her face into her neck. His appearance and formal attire resembled that of those gentlemen who occasionally visited the McCall household; Cody always told her they were there to steal her away and take her to a worse home than the one in which she was living. Mikkos' presence brought upon such renewed fears; and so, the little girl held onto her mother as tightly as she could.
- "Mommy, who's that?"
Continuing to stare at the man who allowed servants and, to a very large extent, Stefan to raise her while he stood aside as his wife and monstrous son beat and starve her, Alexis was repulsed; he disgusted her. In fact, his complacency towards such acts were the sole cause to Stavros having the nerve and arrogance to rape her the way he had. It was because of Mikkos' indifference that the man strutted about the house as though he were some God, calling her names in an attempt to make her feel as though she were some desperate, sex-crazes teen looking for him to violate her. Standing there before her cousin… uncle… holding her daughter in her arms, Alexis did not know if she should smack him and spit in his face for all he had done… and failed to do… or simply thank him for being a sorry excuse for a father and man whose poor example resulted in the creation of such a monster.
However, not wanting to show this man any gratitude or reprieve for his behavior, she swallowed the venom she felt filling her mouth and instead focused on her visibly frightened child.
- "Baby, it's okay; this is Cousin Stefan's daddy."
She quickly looked over to her cousin; he grimaced at the mention that Mikkos was his father. As far as the man was concerned, he was as much of an orphan as she was.
- "Can you say 'hi' to him, Chipmunk? So we don't seem rude?"
Sam, noting that whenever they did not want either her or Nikolas to understand their conversation, her mother and uncle spoke in another language; she decided to do the same. Still shielding her face from Mikkos' view, she bashfully lifted her head from Alexis' shoulder so that she could whisper in Greek into her ear.
- "He's not coming to take me away?"
Alexis, balancing the frightened girl with one arm (although realistically with the grip Sam had on her, she could have done well not holding her at all), wiped Sam's fallen tears before covering her face with kisses. Knowing it would ease her daughter's heart, she responded in the same language.
- "No baby, he's not. I promise you that. He's not taking you ANYWHERE. Okay? Mommy's got you, and she's not letting you go. - Now, how about you say 'hello' to him."
Although she felt reassured in Alexis' words, the six-year-old nevertheless continued to grip her mother's shirt. She once again placed her head onto the woman's shoulder, but allowed her eyes to move from her mother to the direction where Mikkos was seated.
- "Hi."
Mikkos, finally able to fully see the girl, the shape of her face, the resemblance she carried to both Alexis and Stavros, felt as though he had been punched in the gut. Staring into her deep brown eyes shaped like his late son's, his heart filled with guilt and grief over what he had done... and what he had allowed to occur. He made to approach his granddaughter and niece, however, he could see the little one shaking like a leaf. Instead, he remained in his place.
- "Hello—"
He found himself so shocked in her presence, the child's name left him. He had spent the month attempting to figure out how she had come to be in Alexis' keeping when his files stated such a presence was impossible; but, seeing the child with his own eyes, he too could see that something was wrong. Looking at his son and niece, it was evident that no one person in the room had the entire story, although he was certain he would not rest until he learned the truth.
- "Samantha-"
Stefan walked over to the two girls. He wrapped his arm around Alexis, giving Sam a kiss on the top of the head.
- "Do not be frightened, my raven; he's not here to harm you. Neither your mother nor I would allow it."
Sam nodded her head at her cousin; she knew he would never lie to her. She looked up at her mother.
- "Mommy, I'm still hungry."
- I'll have someone bring you up a sandwich."
Stefan immediately went to the phone to call room service, but Alexis smiled coldly at the man as she held up the aluminum pop-tart bag. She was still angry with him for his doubt of Sam's identity; she refused to allow him to use her and Sam's presence in the room to now ostracize his father. Yes, Stefan was a far better man and father than Mikkos, but the point would not be made at her, and certainly not at her daughter's, expense.
- "Sorry Cousin, but like her mother, my daughter likes poptarts. I'm just going to heat these up and we'll leave you and your father to whatever you're discussing."
He could sense her anger, but he would not allow her to reject him. Regardless of who Sam was or was not, he would always support her… them. Despite his doubts of the file's veracity, he simply did not want her to get her hopes up if in case it were true. His only concern was her happiness… their happiness.
- "Darling, if you wouldn't mind, this conversation involves you as well, perhaps you may want to consider remaining."
Not wanting Sam to understand her, Alexis immediately responded to the man in French.
- "Surely you don't think I'm going to have this ridiculous conversation about my child NOT being my child in front of my child. I would hope you'd find me to be a better mother than that. Wait… you don't believe me to be a mother; isn't that correct, Cousin?"
Her words stung him. They were not true.
- "No Alexis, that's not it at all. But please, just take care of Samantha and then speak with us. I believe Father has much to tell us."
Mikkos nodded his head.
- "Please Alexis, do not run off on my account; I would like very much to get to know your… Samantha."
She did not miss his hesitancy toward the girl.
- "She's my daughter. You can say it Mikkos because you and I both know that I don't believe a damn thing in your file that might indicate anything contrary to that."
He was taken aback by her attitude toward him as she had usually been quite respectful; however, she had previously proven that when it came to her child, she was quite ferocious. Standing before him was a mother willing to fight for what she knew was rightfully hers. He had a new level of respect for his… niece.
- "I apologize Alexis; I did not mean to upset you."
She glared at him.
- "You never do. You're an innocent after all; you don't do anything... wrong."
There was no arguing with her. She was right to be angry. So he continued in the hopes that she might soften toward him.
- "I see your daughter is very intelligent; she speaks and understands Greek quite well? It's not an easy language, but she's managed to pick it up rather easily. From my understanding, she's been raised here in the states with English as her only language?"
She sat Sam on the counter in the kitchen area, running her hands through the girl's hair as she stared suspiciously at her uncle.
- "I wouldn't exactly call what those people did to her as raising, but yes, she's lived in the States all of her life. We're… Stefan and I… are teaching her Greek. We alternate between who speaks to her entirely in the language so that she's speaking and hearing it all day long."
He nervously put his hands into his pockets as he looked from the child to Alexis. The little girl continued to hold onto her mother's shirt, resting her head onto her chest, afraid to look at him. Staring at Samantha, with her dark brown silky hair, and deep brown eyes, he could see it; he could see him… but he saw her, too.
- "She reminds me of you, Alexis."
She rubbed Sam's back with tears threatening to fill her eyes. Why would he tell her that a child who, in his files, was not who she believed her to be, reminded him of her? Could he be so cruel? Or did he simply know, as she did, that it could not possibly be true.
- "Why would you say that? Didn't you read the files you gave your son?"
- "I did, but… perhaps we should discuss everything at length when Samantha is not in the room?"
Sam, feeling her stomach begin to grumble, pulled away from her mother and took the pop-tart package from the counter.
- "Mommy—"
Alexis continued to stare at the man unaware that her daughter was seeking her attention. She needed to know his reasoning. She wanted to know why it seemed as though every member of his family was out to stab her in the heart and take everything she loved away from her: her childhood, her memories, her name, her daughter. They were determined to… make her miserable.
- "No, how can you tell me that she reminds you of me when you probably, just like Stefan, think that she isn't mine to begin with? I mean, I know that your files are filled with lies probably set-up by yourself or your wife to make me think she isn't mine because heaven FORBID your poor Stavros be considered anything BUT a Saint rotting in hell—"
Stefan decided to intercede... not on his father's behalf, but Sam's; this was not an appropriate conversation to have in front of the child. While she undoubtedly failed to comprehend the language, it was no secret that Sam was in tune with her mother's emotions. Stefan did not want her further involved in such a difficult situation.
- "Alexis, please—"
She shot him look.
- "No Stefan! I have a right—"
Having opened the package, Sam tapped her mother, as she held out the pastry.
- "Mommy, my pop-tarts! You won't let me touch the toaster; you have to them in there. Please?"
The young mother finally stopped speaking; she realized that she had left her daughter waiting for her snack.
- "I'm sorry, chipmunk."
She gave the child a kiss on the top of her head before putting the pastry into the toaster. She wanted to kick herself for neglecting the child just to have the last word against her cousin and uncle.
- "Um, do you think your tummy will be able to handle a little bit of milk?"
Stefan cleared his throat.
- "Perhaps we should give her some tea."
Unfortunately, the sound of Stefan's voice turned her blood cold; she, once again, glared at the man. But for the fact that Mikkos was in the hotel room holding the possible answers to this nightmare, she would have packed her bags and her daughter, and returned to her apartment. She was still frightened of Stavros, but his presence was actually a comfort to her; his constant taunting reassured her that Sam was hers and hers alone. While she loved Stefan, she could not bear to look at him, not when he doubted her daughter; he betrayed her.
- "WE aren't getting anything for her, Stefan; you're relieved of your duties to us both. I don't want you spending your Cassadine money on a child who isn't even your family. God, now that I know that I'm part of this miserable family instead of a charity case waif, I'm even more disgusted. I ALMOST wish that you were right simply because then her veins wouldn't be polluted by the likes of you all. But then I look at her, and I hold her in my arms, and I'm like, 'to hell with you all!' If I throw her away like you have, then all of the hell and torture she and I were put through because of you—"
She turned to her Uncle.
- "—Mikkos, would have been for nothing. I would NEVER do that to my baby… or my family."
Sam looked up at her mother. She could not understand any of what had been said, but she knew from the heaviness of the room, it was not a pleasant conversation. Knowing how upset the woman had been throughout the weeks, the child had a sudden sense of protectiveness.
- "I wanna go home, Mommy. They're making you sad; I don't want to stay here anymore."
Not wanting to frighten the girl with his presence, Mikkos slowly approached the counter.
- "Samantha?"
Hearing him approach, Sam reached up to her mother.
- "Mommy—"
Alexis complied, but put her down onto the floor.
- "Baby, I can't carry you and hold the pop-tarts and your drink. Stay beside Mommy, but remember I already told you that he's not going to hurt you, okay?"
Sam nodded her head, but nevertheless held onto her mother's shorts as she stared at Mikkos who stood at the counter watching her. She positioned herself behind the young woman, hiding her face in her leg.
- "Please? Can we go?"
Putting the freshly toasted pastry onto a plate, Alexis took Sam's gripped hand from her pants and knelt to her eye level.
- "Sweetheart, I'd love to go back home, believe me I would, but I don't think it's good for either one of us right now. You have nightmares there, remember? And Mommy… you know how Mommy can get there. It's not good for us."
The little girl looked at the stranger, but narrowed her eyes at her beloved Cousin Stefan. She was furious with the man for clearly upsetting her mother; that was not how she should have ever been treated… especially by him.
- "But they're not being nice to you. I wanna go… please?"
Seeing the tears roll down her daughter's cheeks, Alexis brought the girl into a hug, ignoring the two… three, if Stavros were to be included… pairs of eyes that were on her, watching her every action towards the girl.
- "Don't worry, chipmunk. It's an adult conversation we're having that we should probably not have in front of you."
Not understanding her mother's hesitance, the feisty child pulled away from her embrace and immediately stomped her foot in agitation.
- "I still wanna GO!"
Alexis pointed a threatening finger at her six year old; her behavior, regardless of the circumstance, was unacceptable.
- "Hey, you don't stomp your foot at Mommy, Samantha; you know better than that. That behavior is unacceptable."
The child lowered her head in shame.
- "I'm sorry, Mommy."
Alexis lifted Sam's chin so that she could look at her.
- "It's okay, chipmunk. Remember what we spoke about before in the room? We have to stay here for a little while. I know that you don't like it, but Mommy knows what's best for us, okay?"
Sam nodded. She once again looked over to where Stefan stood. Seeing his smile to her, she furrowed her eyebrows as she pouted and whispered into her mother's ear.
- "I don't like Cousin Stefan anymore."
Alexis shook her head. She held Sam's face in her hands.
- "Chipmunk, you don't mean that. You love Cousin Stefan VERY much… I do too. Sometimes, honey, the people you love don't always make you happy, but that doesn't mean that you stop loving or liking them. It just means that the particular thing they've done, you're not happy with… and that's okay because you're entitled to your feelings. But baby, Stefan is our family, regardless of anything he might have said, or have done, he's ours; we like AND love him… always."
She made her comment for not only Sam, but for him as well; as furious as she was at him, she loved him… perhaps more than she should have given her current situation. Before Sam and Nikolas came to be, he was her world; she could not easily throw him away… regardless of what he mistakenly believed. She could never stop loving someone who meant so much to her… there were too few people like him in her life.
She looked up at the man who attempted to shield the fact that his eyes had begun to well with tears at the very idea that she would reject him. Her feelings were returned tenfold. Alexis, aside from Nikolas and Sam, were his family; her harsh words for him left him lost.
- "We love him, chipmunk."
And with those words, he was found. He slowly approached the two, praying that he would not be turned away.
- "And I love you… both… always."
He was not.
Holding Sam's hand, Alexis stood up to face her beloved cousin. She put her hand on his cheek and stared into his dark green eyes; she could read him like a book… the happiness, the pain… the sorrow. She had caused the latter; it broke her heart.
- "Stefan—"
He put his finger to her lips.
- "I'm sorry. You must know that I would ALWAYS put you and the children first… no matter what. I meant no harm… I… it… I don't want you to be harmed any further by the lies and deceit of this family. That was and continues to be my main priority, Alexis. I'm not out to hurt you or your daughter; I could never do such a thing. I want to help you, but darling, I can only do so if you help yourself. Do not be afraid of what might lay ahead; you've already faced the beast."
Lifting Sam into her arms, she stood with her cousin.
- "I hope I have."
She let her eyes wander to Mikkos who stood awkwardly aside watching their exchange. It was evident that this man, whose blood ran through their veins, had no family. He was an interloper… and he knew it.