Part 17: Christmas Miracles

Chelsea stared out the window at the falling snow, unmoved by the way it sparkled in the Christmas lights.

Everyone in her neighborhood, a fairly well-to-do residential area just outside Salem city limits, seemed to love Christmas decorations, the gaudier the better. It appealed to Nick, but the only real pleasure Chelsea took in them was in Nick's amusement.

But Nick wasn't home, and hadn't been home since what seemed like forever ago. When Nick had first requested an imaginary separation to lull the problem employees at the hospital lab into a false sense of security, they had stolen moments here and there. But after Chelsea had decided to protect Nick's project by neglecting to inform him of her pregnancy, their time together had dwindled to zero.

They had not spent Christmas apart since before their marriage. Chelsea had always thought of herself as being open to new experiences, but this was one she would rather have left unexplored.

She was glad that her pregnancy had advanced to the point that there was simply no way of hiding it in public. Billie and Abby couldn't badger her into going to the Horton Christmas Eve ornament-hanging, and she wouldn't be forced to watch the happy couples who could see and touch each other whenever they wanted, without ever feeling proper gratitude. It was bad enough being subjected to her mother and her friend and their attempts at cheerfulness, tempered by the occasional veiled reproach. They never said it in so many words, but Chelsea could read between the lines: You're about to hurt Nick. Again. Worse than you ever did before.

For the third time, she tried to get rid of one of her keepers. "Abby."

Abby looked up from the magazine she'd been reading. "Yeah?"

"You haven't been in Salem for Christmas in years. You have to go to the Horton Center."

For the third time, Abby shrugged. "I'm not really that close to anyone who'll be there, you know? Awkward."

The excuse was so ludicrous that Chelsea ignored it. "My mom is here to baby-sit me. Believe me, she doesn't need any backup."

"I like your mom," said Abby mildly, as if that had anything to do with anything. "Maybe when she gets off the phone with your stepdad, we can all—"

But Chelsea never heard whatever hopelessly corny and childlike suggestion Abby was going to make. She slipped from the window seat to the floor, then scrambled to press her forehead against the cold window.

"Chels? Is it the baby?" Abby rushed to Chelsea's side, but Chelsea roughly brushed her away and jumped toward the door, calling Nick's name.

At least, she meant to call Nick's name. She was pretty sure that it came out as a garbled mess, but that was all right, because her face ended up buried in his coat anyway. He smelled like fresh snow, only better, and she almost hated to raise her head. "Did you—" she began, but he held up a finger for silence and covered her lips with his.

A long moment later, he shifted so that his breath tickled her cheek. "I needed that. I've needed that for four months."

"Me too," Chelsea whispered.

"We can't ever do this again."

"I agree."

"June's been arrested," he told her, finally answering the question he hadn't let her ask.

"Good," Chelsea breathed. "But we still can't ever do this again. Not ever."

The shock of being near each other again was starting to wear off, and Chelsea knew that the moment of reckoning had arrived. Nick was holding her body close against his own, and his eyes widened as he realized that her body has changed drastically since the last time they'd stood like this. His cold hands slipped under her blouse; the baby, knowing its father, kicked in greeting.

Nick fell to his knees in the snow and pressed his cheek against Chelsea's stomach. "How are you?" he asked hoarsely. "Are you doing okay?"

"He or she is fine," Chelsea answered. "Perfectly healthy, and the doctor thinks that there's no chance… no chance it will be like it was before, not when there haven't been any problems…"

"You don't know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"The doctor does. I didn't want to know something else you didn't know. I meant—I didn't think I'd be letting it go this long. I told myself I wouldn't tell you for a week, so you could finish what you were doing and protect all those people, but then it was a month, and then it was two…"

"I wish you'd told me." Slowly, Nick climbed back to his feet. "I would never have made anything more important than you and the baby."

"I know that. That's why I had to—I don't know if I did the right thing, I didn't want to keep you from being there. The baby and I thought about you for every minute of every day, but—"

Nick held his finger to Chelsea's lips again. "I know. I'm lucky to have you. Both of you. It could have been so much worse."

Chelsea started to ask what that was supposed to mean, but then she noticed that Billie and Abby were standing in the open doorway with their arms around each other, beaming as if they were the ones reunited with a long-lost husband. Where they'd been prison guards five minutes before, now they were two of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen.

She gestured that that they should go back inside. "Stop letting the snow into my house, you voyeurs!"

Abby laughed. "I don't think it's voyeurism when you're watching someone standing on her front lawn. I hope none of the kids on this street were looking out their windows for Santa."

"Speaking of Santa, maybe you and I need to bring some presents over to the Horton Center after all and leave these two alone?" Billie suggested.

"We appreciate the thought, but we need to go to the Horton Center too," said Nick with an apologetic glance at Chelsea. "There's something I need to do there that shouldn't wait."

Chelsea, Nick, Billie, and Abby entered the Horton Center without knocking. The room was a cacophony of sound. Stories were being told; drinks were being poured; and presents were being piled in ever-higher stacks.

"Sorry we're late!" Chelsea announced at the top of her voice. When two dozen heads turned to look at her, she shed her winter coat, revealing her undeniably swollen midsection. "While we have your attention, Nick and I would like to announce that the baby is due in February." Nick wrapped his arms around Chelsea from behind.

Three seconds passed in silence before the room exploded with more noise than ever before.

"I knew it! I told you! Didn't I tell you?" Hope and Ciara shouted to each other as they rushed to hug Chelsea.

Shawn was the first to shake Nick's hand and slap him on the back, but he managed to demand an explanation for Chelsea and Nick's recent separation in the same breath as he offered congratulations.

Everyone else was eager to hug and kiss and interrogate Nick, too, but he couldn't quite enjoy it. There were still reparations to be made. "Lucas," he whispered when his cousin clasped his hand in turn. "We need to talk. In private. Now."

Lucas didn't make Nick say it twice. They separated themselves from the throng, which was really more interested in Chelsea anyway, and escaped upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

Nick anxiously paced the length of the bedroom, meeting Lucas' eyes only with great effort.

"It can't be that bad, can it?" Lucas asked.

"No. It's not bad at all. It's good, really, but it's the kind of good thing that you don't want delayed, and not that it's too late, but— maybe I should start at the beginning."

"That might be a good idea."

Nick wished that Lucas didn't look so thoroughly amused underneath his concern.

"When Sami was pregnant with Allie and Johnny, your mother blackmailed me into pretending that the paternity tests showed that EJ DiMera was their father."

Lucas made a face. "My mom is like that," he said noncommittally.

"But the real test, that showed that you were their father, like it was supposed to be."

"But then, the last test, after they were born—"

"Was fixed by a lab tech named S.B. Piper, who bribed another lab tech named June Emerson into covering it up later. Piper's in jail. June will be joining him shortly. I've spent the last four months pretending to be on the outs with Chelsea so I could get closer to June. I finally caught her red-handed a few hours ago. She asked if I went to all that trouble over her because of my cousins, and I hadn't even realized… I went off on her a little bit, blamed her for what happened to Sami when she while she was being handcuffed. I knew Will had Johnny tested against Belle last week, and Allie against you a few months ago, and I have access to the records."

Lucas didn't look so amused anymore. "Are you saying that Johnny is my son? Mine and Sami's?"

Nick nodded jerkily, his face ashen. "I'm sorry. If I'd been more careful thirteen years ago—"

"It wouldn't have mattered!" Lucas snapped. His voice got louder with every word. "The damn DiMeras always win. If you'd poked around, they'd probably have had you killed. They wanted to take that beautiful little boy and raise him to kill and steal and treat other people like they don't matter. They wanted to take a baby and use him to control his mother. So that's what they did. If you weren't so damn smart, it would have worked forever instead of for thirteen years." Lucas scowled. "Thank you," he added as an afterthought.

"I wish I'd thought about it sooner," Nick repeated, and nodded at someone behind Lucas. He whirled around to find Billie standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"You should know that you were yelling loudly enough that everyone downstairs heard you ranting about the DiMeras stealing Johnny. Including Johnny," Billie told them bluntly.

"Shit," Lucas muttered. He looked from Nick to Billie, wondering if either of them had a better idea of how to handle this than he did. But while both looked sympathetic, neither looked ready to take charge of the situation. It wasn't their place. Johnny was Lucas' son, after all.

Another son. Sami, we have another son.

For years, Lucas had been able to view Sami as almost an abstract concept. She was someone he'd loved more than he would ever love anyone else. She was the mother of his children, and he liked it when he saw her in them. She was the friend of his childhood and the partner of his young adulthood.

Conveniently, he'd forgotten what it was like to need her—sexually and otherwise—so badly he couldn't see straight.

Now, all of a sudden, the need threatened to knock him off his feet. He needed to see her. He needed to kiss her. He needed to see her laugh and insist that she'd *always* known that Johnny must be his. He needed her to remember with him what it had been like when Marlena had helped them bring the infant John Roman Horton into the world. He needed her eyes to sparkle as they recalled the day in the cabin that they had created their twins, the children they had wanted for what seemed like forever…

He needed her to storm downstairs and shamelessly steal the spotlight from Chelsea as she proudly proclaimed that there was another addition to the Horton family who needed to get his due.

That wasn't going to happen, of course. Instead, he would have to be Sami enough for both of them.

He left the bedroom, gesturing that Billie and Nick should follow. He paused halfway down the stairs and looked at his assembled family. Three faces stood out: Will, startled but smiling calmly; Allie, radiant with delight; and Johnny, cool, calculating, and unsurprised.

"Can I have your attention?" he asked unnecessarily. He had more attention than he wanted. "We've already celebrated one addition to the family tonight, but I think you've realized that we need to celebrate again. Maybe Nick can explain it to you, and you can take it better than I did?"

He ceded center stage to Nick, who obediently began to retell the tale of his recent activities. Meanwhile, Lucas wove his way through the crowd to his children. Will, always more partner than son, gave him a reassuring nod; Allie's grin grew even wider when he approached. But it was Johnny, silent and unreadable, who Lucas addressed.

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way," he told Johnny.

Johnny smirked. "No problem."

"I wasn't much older than you when I realized that my father wasn't who I thought he was. I know it's a problem. But it's something you can get through, it's something you might even be grateful for one day."

Johnny cocked his head. "I don't know about grateful, but I suppose I'm impressed that you went to this much trouble to stage the grand revelation."

"None of this is staged, Johnny."

Johnny chuckled. He sounded uncomfortably like EJ. "EJ DiMera is my father. He's the only father I want or need. Even if by some quirk there was no blood between us—and I don't believe your cousin's tests for a moment—he would still be my father. I consider myself a prisoner of war, not your son."

Claire and Ciara, who had developed a bizarre habit of appearing at Allie's side as if by magic in the most unlikely of circumstances, were gaping openly at Johnny as if they had never seen anything quite like him.

"Prisoner of war?" Ciara asked. "Isn't that a little bit much?"

Johnny cut his eyes to her. "Don't you need to go hang one of those stupid ornaments for your parents' dead child for whom you are a poor replacement?" he asked.

Neither Lucas nor Claire nor Allie had enough time to stop Ciara's fist from connecting with Johnny's jaw.

Before Johnny had even straightened up, Bo had his younger daughter's arms pinned to her sides. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" he demanded.

Ciara didn't answer. "Come on," Bo continued. "Apologize, and then you're going home before everyone else goes to midnight mass."

"Don't punish her, Bo," Lucas suggested. "She doesn't deserve it."

Bo looked from Ciara, her fist still clenched, to Johnny, still rubbing his jaw. "I doubt that."

"Let it slide, please," Lucas tried again.

"Apologize, Ciara," Bo repeated.

With great fanfare, Ciara turned to Allie. "Allie, you have always been my cousin and lately you've become one of my best friends. I know how much you love your twin brother, so I apologize to you for hitting him."

Bo growled low in his throat.

"What?" Ciara demanded. "You never told me I had to apologize to anyone in particular." Then she twisted out of her father's grasp and flounced toward the table where Mickey and Maggie were sorting out the family ornaments. She pulled her own and Zack's from the array and smiled winningly at Maggie, who agreed that she could go first.

Claire and Allie trailed after Ciara and giggled as they hung their ornaments close to hers. Allie tactfully hung Johnny's in his place.

Belle pushed Tyler forward. He started to hang his ornament on the lowest branch which faced the wall, but Belle pointed meaningfully to the cluster Ciara had started and Tyler changed course to place his ornament next to his sister's. Belle and Shawn added their own ornaments next, and Bo and Hope and Doug and Julie followed quickly.

A dozen more ornaments found their way to the tree in turn. Abby had her own, as well as those of Jack and Jennifer and JJ, so she suggested that Lucas hang "Grandpa Bill's."

Lucas felt a tightness in his chest as he placed Bill Horton's ornament safely between his own and Jennifer's. He had known that Bill was his biological father for many years before he'd been able to accept the Hortons as his family. How long would it take Johnny?

Will was among the last to have his turn. For the past several years, he hadn't hung ornaments for Sami or the twins. His older relatives had stopped so much as removing them from the box for fear of hurting him. But this time he made sure that his mother's ornament was within reach of all of her children's.

The doorbell rang as Will was passing through the entryway. He opened the door automatically. "You're late," he started to tease the new arrival. Then he realized that he was face-to-face with Joy Wesley.

"I wasn't invited. I can't be late," Joy told him while he tried to recover.

"Come in anyway," he forced himself to say. "Everyone's welcome, we don't send out engraved invitations."

She shook her head; Will made a point of not noticing how her red hair looked even brighter against the falling snow. "I have to get back to the hospital. I'm on duty all night."

"On Christmas Eve? The Chief didn't pull any strings?"

Joy hesitated. "It's by request," she admitted. "I didn't want there to be any impression of favoritism."

"Oh," said Will.

"Why am I here, right? There was a little commotion with your cousin Nick that lab tech he was hanging around with."

"She was arrested, wasn't she?"

Joy nodded. "So you already know. He was mentioning—he mentioned your brother and sister. He mentioned how for your mother, this can't ever be fixed, and she's never going to know her twins. He said that the damage to her brain from blunt trauma is inoperable."

"All that's true," Will conceded, thinking that he was going to have to get Professor Nick to tell him the story properly, without leaving out the part where he taught a class in Advanced Horton Dirty Laundry.

"I was wondering if you wanted to consider this procedure." She removed a folded booklet of papers from her coat. "It's not going to be published until next spring. It was just developed by a team at Johns Hopkins."

"How do you even know about it, then?"

"They recruited me. The recruiter was really rude about it, actually, said I was wasting a one-in-a-million talent for neurosurgery on a fledgling program in a hick town because I couldn't stand being away from my daddy. They're brilliant at what they do, though. It's practically the only place that could get away with calling the program here 'fledgling.'"

The first strains of O Holy Night drifted toward them from further inside the house.

"I should go. I don't know the details of your mother's situation, but if you think she might be a candidate for this, let me know." She shoved the papers into his hands and let herself out just as Maggie came in search of Will.

"Why didn't you bring your friend inside, Will?" she asked.

None of the answers that came to mind—she didn't want to come inside, she isn't my friend, I think we've had enough upheaval for one day without her explaining what she was doing here—seemed right. So he led Maggie back inside without any response but a smile.

A thrill of hope
The weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks
A new and glorious morn…

TBC