Interstate 80. Evening.
His last week with Spencer had gone by so quickly. Luckily, the drive out had been a little lengthy, so Nikolas got in a few extra days with his son.
The beat-up Chevy that Johnny had lent him was constantly making unusual sounds, but it had lasted the whole trip so far.
And as far as he knew, he hadn't been followed. The Jaguar was so distinctive that not using it was a surefire way to lose people.
He'd taken care of most of the paperwork preparation in a small rural upstate community. Untraceable.
He'd had a bad dream last night in his last stopover motel. The moment they were all finally together -- Nikolas, Claudia, Spencer and the baby -- Sonny had found them. Nikolas hadn't been able to protect Claudia in time.
He'd woken up in a cold sweat. It was the type of dream that, in a normal family, your wife would wake you up from and comfort you about. Instead, Nikolas now didn't even have his son to check up on and reassure himself with.
He had to turn off his phone to stop himself from calling Claudia. He missed her voice, all the different versions of it. The way it sang when she cajoled Spencer, its vulnerable tone when she was scared of caring too much, the teasing note that would creep in when she found a new nickname she thought would get a rise out of him, the crisp, clinical way it clipped through complex situations while breaking them down into minor points to be easily grasped and conquered. And at night, the passionate cries, the tender soothing murmurs. He even missed her angry full-throttle tirade voice. He'd keep that to himself when the time came to tell her about last night.
He'd been speeding the whole day on the road.
The whole trip back he'd had Spencer's mantra for the way out there running through his head: Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?
Just a little bit longer to go.
****************************************************
GreyStone.
Three weeks. Sonny thought it was a month and three weeks, but even if Claudia hadn't been in on Dr. Waters' little lie, she would have known there were only three weeks left.
For one thing, she couldn't see her feet anymore except when she was looking in a mirror. No more high heels for her.
Her stomach was stretched so tight she could swear she saw her kid's outline sometimes.
Sleeping through the night was a distant memory.
There were good points to this stage of the pregnancy, too. Her hair was shinier than it had ever been and was growing like one of those old Crissy dolls that her mother had given her and her father had thrown away. Her hands had swollen so much that she'd finally had an excuse to remove her wedding and engagement rings. All of Sonny's exes had stopped coming around to insult her. Max and Milo were doing things like rising when she entered a room and being oversolicitous about her needs -- but in weird ways, like asking her, "Is it okay to have the lawn cut today, or would the smell bother you?" (She didn't even know what that meant, but she suspected that if she asked, she get an answer that began, "When my mother was pregnant with me..." so she avoided pursuing the subject).
Lamaze was not her cup of tea. She got that childbirth would be painful, she got that it would take awhile, but really, all they needed to do was give her a PowerPoint presentation about what she needed to remember. The only other thing that interested her about the process was finally getting to meet her son.
She didn't care about watching the dvds of childbirth. She hated the touchy-feely sessions where everyone spoke about their fears. The first time she'd been to one of those, she'd had to scramble to make something up. She was worried that the truth might pop out, and instead of saying, "I'm so afraid that I'll hurt my husband's feelings in the delivery room," she'd say, "I'm so afraid that all our planning will be shot to hell and I'll only have a few seconds with my son before I die." That night, she'd gone home and made a list of socially acceptable fears which she'd trotted out for the rest of her sessions. She had the feeling John knew what was going through her head. Every time it was her turn to answer, he'd squeeze her hand reassuringly.
John was really good as a coach. And as an uncle. They were spending as much time together as they could, knowing what was going to happen. That was going to be the hardest part of all of this. For both of them. They never talked about it.
She missed Nikolas. Having her own room was a godsend. She was dreaming about Nikolas a lot, and was afraid she was talking about him while she slept. She'd woken up saying his name and reaching for him a couple of times. Then she'd shot up out of bed, checking the room for unwanted visitors.
She was pretty sure Nikolas was out of town, taking Spencer away ahead of the drama. The last time she'd seen them both at Wyndham's, they'd looked happy. Nikolas looked his usual confidant self. She really wished she could talk to him. There was something weighing on her mind, and Nikolas was the only person she could talk to about it.
Last week, she'd bumped into Carly at the hospital. Carly, who was just as far along as Claudia was. And Claudia had been overcome by the full weight of what she'd done. She tried to imagine what would happen to her if anyone ever harmed the child growing inside her. The enormity of what she'd done to Carly hit her all at once. Carly had carried Michael for nine months. Hoped for him, welcomed him into the world, raised him -- and then it was all taken away.
Claudia, Johnny and Nikolas were scheming and planning so that Claudia could survive, but it was also so that Claudia would never have to pay for what she'd done. So that she'd get away with it. She needed to make sense of this. She needed Nikolas.
***************************************************
General Hospital. Emergency Room.
Matt was supposed to be on a break while he was working his second shift of a double, but something was bothering Liz. So he kept working so he could keep an eye on her.
"Dr. Hunter," Nurse Johnson called out to him.
Oh, no. Matt went over to the administrative desk. "Yes?"
"Aren't you supposed to be on a break?"
"Are you opposed to a doctor working through a break?"
"Yes. And you would be too, if you'd been reading studies about doctor fatigue. And Nurse Webber, if you do not get that dislocation out of majors in the next five minutes, we are definitely going to have a problem."
"Actually, Nurse Johnson, that would be my fault," Matt said. "I reduced the dislocation."
"Really?," Epiphany said, making it clear she disapproved. "You're just full of improvements, everywhere you go, aren't you?"
"You don't approve of improvements?"
Epiphany was speechless. It even caught Liz's attention. Which caught Epiphany's attention. "Aren't you due for a break, Nurse Webber?"
Matt and Liz hurried into the break room.
"Why are you antagonizing Epiphany?," Liz asked.
"I'm just doing my job. Antagonizing Epiphany is a fringe benefit. I'm looking forward to the night Claudia Zacchara is admitted."
At that, Liz grew distant again.
"Hey," Matt said. "Is that what's bugging you? You don't have to do this. I'm sure Nikolas will understand if you back out."
"Are you going to back out?"
"I took the Physician's Oath. I can't back out. Besides," he said, nudging her, "don't you think this will become a fantastic answer during a job interview some day?"
Elizabeth couldn't help laughing.
"Tell me about your ability to work under pressure. Tell me about a time in your life when you had to work towards a deadline."
"Matt..."
"Liz, what are you worried about? That wasn't an interview question," he clarified. "That was a Genius Doctor question."
"What if Nikolas is going to destroy Jason?"
"Really? That's what you're thinking about?"
"Yes. And what if Claudia has done something that she deserves to die for?"
"Have you ever known anyone who deserved to die?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Okay. Well, in answer to your first concern, Nikolas wouldn't destroy Jason because that would perpetuate the cycle he says he's intent on stopping. Right?"
"Right."
"And if Claudia deserves to die -- whatever that means, la la la, I can't hear you -- then that should be pursued through legal channels, not through some back alley murder after she gives birth to Sonny's child. That's my take on U.S. law. I could be wrong. After all, I am being sued."
Liz spontaneously hugged Matt.
"Is this because I'm a genius?," he asked.
"No," she said. "It's in spite of it."
****************************************************
GreyStone.
Sonny stared out of the new patio doors.
Everything had slowed to a standstill.
Claudia had her routine and never varied it. Sonny sensed his tail on her guard would be bored and irritated with the assignment if Claudia wasn't entertaining him.
Every time Johnny visited -- which was more than daily now -- he was belligerent about Sonny leaving his sister alone.
Nikolas had disappeared. Both his car and his jet were in town, but the man himself was gone. Mike said Nikolas had sent Spencer away. Said it was about Helena.
Spinelli found evidence of one phone call between Nikolas and Claudia, which had happened the night before they'd met at Johnny's garage. Claudia had initiated that one.
Jason couldn't find out what was going on in Puerto Rico. Jason also said they had to make a decision about Dante soon.
Dante had stopped talking to everyone. Refused to write out email messages anymore.
The most exciting thing that had happened this week was the plant in Sonny's office had died.
By any normal standards, this should have been a happy time in Sonny's life. The baby was coming, and Sonny had never had more power. Anyone looking in from the outside would be jealous.
But he was locked out of the pregnancy. When the woman doesn't want to share the pregnancy with you, the man is out of luck. Claudia had finished the nursery. It was stocked with supplies and full of toys and furniture. She had been real clear about wanting to do it alone. Johnny was the birthing coach. Except for that one time with Dr. Lee, Claudia was not interested in Sonny feeling the baby kick or discussing names. He'd initiated a name conversation a few days ago, only to be shot down. Claudia called him a sadist.
When they'd bumped into Carly and Jax at the hospital last week, he'd thought he'd caught a glimpse of the old Claudia, yearning for a real relationship borne of the pregnancy. But once they were in the exam room, it was as if he wasn't there. Dr. Waters and Claudia were talking about her exercise routine, and weight increase, and body and mood changes, and Sonny realized he didn't know a thing about his wife. This was a business arrangement. It had worked as a business arrangement with benefits. For a little while. Now it was just a train wreck in training, barreling toward its inevitable tragic conclusion.
*************************************************
Wyndemere. Midnight.
When Nikolas reached the launch, he was told there were two people waiting for him at Wyndemere. One he expected. The other was a surprise.
He made his way up the path to the house and the door was opened for him. His bags carried inside. A full staff, but the place felt empty without Spencer.
He went into the living room.
"Viktor," Nikolas greeted his first guest. "Anything to report?"
"No," Viktor shot a quick glance at the young woman who was waiting, "Just that everything is ready."
"Good," Nikolas said. "Viktor."
"Yes?"
"When the day comes, leave your gun and all other weapons behind. But make sure that Mr. Corinthos' man -- the man following you -- does not notice and is fully armed." Nikolas handed Viktor a set of keys and a piece of paper. "Keep this safe."
"Yes, sir. Is that all?"
"Yes. Thank you."
Viktor left.
Nikolas held his arms open. Lulu ran into him.
"I've missed you," she said.
"I'm back now," he said.
Lulu took out two folded pieces of paper and handed them to Nikolas.
"What's this?," he said.
"It's part of what Claudia's been collecting. She hid them in her locker and Johnny couldn't get in to retrieve them. Because her locker is in a women's locker room. So here I am."
Nikolas stared at Lulu. He was wondering if this was a good idea or a recipe for disaster when Lulu spoke again.
"I think you're going to need some help on the day of, aren't you? Why not me?"
*************************************************
GreyStone. Claudia's Bedroom.
Claudia had finally found a comfortable position and drifted off to sleep. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep when she woke up to raised voices coming from downstairs.
She tried to close her eyes and get back to sleep, but the voices got louder and she heard:
"Did you even tell her I wanted to see her?"
Michael. What was this about?
************************************************
GreyStone. Living Room.
"Keep your voice down," Sonny said. "She's asleep. She needs her rest."
"Fine," Michael said, quietly but urgently. "Answer the question."
"She doesn't need the stress right now, and I don't think it's good for you to be around Claudia. She's a bad influence."
"She's right here," Claudia said, standing at the top of the stairs. "Hi, Michael."
"Claudia. I need to talk to you."
"Okay. Give me a second to get dressed."
************************************************
GreyStone. The Grounds.
Sonny had hissed a few threats at her as she left with Michael. Because she didn't need the stress right now, Claudia thought sarcastically.
Michael had been quiet as they walked away from the house.
"I didn't know you wanted to talk to me," Claudia said. "I only just heard that."
Michael stopped in front of the bench, where they'd talked a few months ago about his parents. "Do you need to sit?," he asked.
"Thanks," she said, sitting down. "What's going on?"
"I have to talk to you about two things."
"Okay."
"I tried coming to see you after your car accident, but you'd already left my father."
"That's private, Michael. I can't tell you why --"
"I was the one who drove you off the road."
Claudia didn't say anything. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Before Alfred brought breakfast to the hospital. Before Spoon Island. Helena. But she remembered how it had felt when she'd come to, and no one was sure how the baby was. How she'd entered into a high risk pregnancy.
She looked at Michael. He looked nervous.
"Was it an accident?"
"Yes."
"I don't think you should tell your father about this," Claudia said. "Or your mother."
"Why?," he said.
"Come here," she said. Michael sat down beside her. He looked nervous and uncomfortable now. She took his hand and placed it on her belly, moving it around. The baby kicked. "See? He's fine now."
Michael pulled his hand away.
When Claudia had first met Michael after he'd come out of his coma, there had been a huge streak of self-preservation running through her attempt to befriend him. But she did like Michael.
"Michael? The baby's fine. I'm fine. I'm not saying that what happened was right, but if you're anything like me, it's probably eating away at you every day. I don't think you need your parents' judgment on top of that."
Michael stood up. He walked away from Claudia. When he was a safe distance away from her, he turned around to face her. She couldn't see his face in the darkness.
"Claudia," he said. "I remember everything."
"Believe me, I understand."
"No," he said. "I remember everything. I remember you talking to me. When I was in the coma. That's the other thing."
