In a pew at Trinity Episcopal, while Reverend Staunton delivered his sermon, Carly Ashton tried in vain to find a comfortable position. No matter how she sat it was impossible to get a decent deep breath and she felt lightheaded and dizzy. As she tried to will herself to not pass out, she wished she had listened to Ned and stayed home in bed. Except, even lying down in bed she didn't feel well, and she hadn't for a while.

XXXXXXXX

Ned Ashton reached for his wife's hand and wondered if he was imaging that she looked like she felt even worse than before. "How are you feeling?" he whispered as Reverend Staunton closed his sermon.

Carly leaned into him but didn't speak.

That kind of gave Ned his answer. As the rest of the congregation started to rise for the final hymn, he remained seated and wrapped an arm securely around Carly's shoulders. "Why don't I help you out to the car and then we'll go home and get you back into bed," he said.

"I thought you were supposed to meet with your grandfather after Sunday Brunch," Carly whispered.

Carly was correct but his grandfather was going to have to understand that ELQ couldn't be the only priority all the time. "It's ok, right now I'm most worried about you," Ned whispered.

"What if I rested at Alan and Monica's? Then you could meet with your grandfather, and I wouldn't ruin everything," Carly said.

Carly's insecurity tugged at Ned's heart again. He wrapped his arm more securely around her shoulders. "You aren't ruining anything but I'm sure that would be fine with Monica if you wanted to do that. Do you feel like you're going to be able to walk or should we just wait until the service is over and I can carry you?" he asked.

Fresh tears glistened in Carly's eyes. "I think I'm going to need help," she said.

Ned pulled her a little closer to him and then brought his head down close to hers. "It's ok, I'm going to take care of you. We're in this together, remember?" he whispered. He felt Carly's shoulders relax a little. Maybe that was the best he could hope for.

XXXXXXXX

Trevor Lansing exited the Taconic State Parkway and merged onto the Interstate that would take him to Port Charles, NY. He was more familiar with the city than he wanted to admit. His Uncle, Army Captain Royal Lansing had washed up there almost literally after his time in Vietnam. He battled his demons, and his addiction which eventually brought his brother and Trevor's other Uncle, Dr. Steven Lansing, to town. Later Trevor's younger brother Aaron, and then his cousins Howard and Gary also relocated to seaport city.

Despite his scores of family, in Port Charles, his travel had nothing to do with them nor did he wish to have any contact with them. He would be lucky if he could get in an out of Port Charles without running into either of his uncles, cousins, or even his younger brother. Maybe especially his younger brother. Dr. Aaron Lansing was a successful surgeon. He had married some local attorney's daughter shortly after his arrival in town and they were approaching twenty-five years of wedded bliss. Laurie or Laurel or whatever her name was wrote about how much their love grew stronger each year and how wonderful their daughters were. They were both college students attending Ivy league schools. Trevor promptly threw those Christmas letters in the trash. He had no more use for his brother than he presumed Aaron had for him.

Trevor would tell anyone who asked that he was in town on business. He would preach how the justice system was predicated on everyone's right to a fair trial and a proper defense. He was there to provide exactly that, no more, no less to Girolamo Palerno. Technically all of that was true. Except truly he was in town to do damage control and make sure that Palerno remembered where his loyalties were supposed to lie.

July 17, 1997

Newark, NJ

As mourners filed out of Cathedral Basilica of the Sacred Heart after Charles Corelli's Funeral Mass, Trevor Lansing noted that the two surviving members of the De Rossi Crime Family Ruling Panel, Stefan DiMeo; and Girolamo "Jimmy" Palerno; didn't get into the same limo for the funeral procession to the Mount Olivet Cemetery. Given the history among the three men that wasn't surprising, and it gave him an opportunity. So, he slipped into Palerno's limo and pulled the door closed behind him. It closed right in Marco Dane aka Marco Corelli's face.

Palerno smirked at Marco Dane's misfortune. "Irony is rich, huh?" he asked.

Trevor didn't think he was solely referring to Marco Dane. "Indeed," he agreed.

"Of course, even a broken clock is right twice a day, right?" Palerno asked with a hearty laugh.

Trevor forced himself to join in. He was about to call in a favor, it was hardly the time to reveal he, himself found Palerno almost as stupid as Palerno found Marco Dane. "I'm sure you've heard the rumblings," he said.

"That DiMeo is leading Junior around by the nose? DiMeo forgets that loyalty isn't grey. But I'm going to put him out of his misery and make him an offer he can't refuse," Palerno said.

Trevor raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"I'm going to offer him a peaceful transfer of power," Palerno said.

Trevor didn't believe that. Perhaps Palerno was smarter than he gave him credit for. "So, you're going to let Stefano DiMeo take control?" he asked.

"It is time for the Family to come together, that was really all Papa DeRossi wanted with that ruling panel," Palerno said.

"It takes a lot to be the bigger man," Trevor said. He didn't really believe that was what Palerno was doing. He just hadn't figured out what angle he was working.

"Like I said, loyalty is not a grey issue. I can appreciate that," Palerno repeated.

"I guess you've also heard that the Commission is looking to fill an eighth seat," Trevor said. Perhaps that was the angle Palerno was working. Perhaps he and DiMeo were working together toward that goal. Trevor had witnessed stranger things and it was no secret that Simone De Rossi had long felt snubbed by not having direct representation to the Commission.

Palerno revealed no emotion in his face. "Word gets around. Marricante feels the seat is his and hasn't exactly been quiet about it. But, as my father would say, often the loudest voice is the weakest."

"Marricante needs to spend more time worrying about his own backyard. Those skirmishes with the Ruiz family in Miami aren't helping anyone, and won't be viewed favorably when the time comes," Trevor said. He was largely bluffing. He had no inside information. He had never been allowed to attend meetings and he feared that the Commission had been meeting without inviting Zacchara. The Solieto, Pozullo, and Camorese families had shown up at Simone De Rossi's Funeral with Joe Scully and Michael "Sonny" Corinthos in June. It almost left one to wonder if the Commission was less looking for an eighth family and more looking to shuffle the deck.

"Maybe, it is time for the Commission to come together," Trevor said.

Once again, Palerno showed no emotion. He just silently nodded.

"Salvatore Mancusi has a problem he needs handled with some discretion and separation. I would consider it a favor if you could help him out," Trevor began.

"Introduce me to this friend of ours and I will see what I can do," Palerno said as their limo pulled into the Mount Olivet Cemetery.

In retrospect, Trevor wished he had just set up the meeting between Palerno and Mancusi Family Underboss, Joseph Augustino. Then he might have had some plausible deniability. Instead, he had commissioned services directly with Palerno. He had sacrificed plausible deniability for potential leverage and if he wasn't careful, it was about to bite him in the butt. The only consolation was that the events he had commissioned had yet to transpire. Unfortunately, that left Palerno with even more of his own potential leverage should he decide to sacrifice loyalty for leverage.

XXXXXXXX

Carly Ashton clung helplessly to her husband as he opened the door to one of the guest rooms in the upstairs West Wing of Monica and Alan's home and carried her inside. He turned back the covers, laid her down on the bed, and helped her turn onto her left side before he brought the coverlet back up over her.

"How is that?" Ned asked as he brushed her hair out of her face and reached down to take her hand.

Carly was afraid to answer him. She still felt so weak and unsteady. Not quite as badly as she had at the end of church but not really better.

"You feel very warm, do you think the fever has come back?" Ned asked.

"Maybe," Carly said before fresh tears came pouring out her eyes.

"Hey, it's ok, honey. I promise, I'm going to take care of you. Why don't I see if Monica has a thermometer and we can check your temperature," Ned said. He wrapped his arms around her and then gave her shoulders a squeeze.

For just a moment in Ned's arms Carly felt almost secure. Even so, she didn't have the energy to protest or even to beg Ned to just stay with her a little longer. The room seemed to spin more after he left, and she just felt unsteady and shaky.

XXXXXXXX

When Dr. Monica Quartermaine crossed the threshold into one of the guest suites in their West Wing, she offered a silent prayer that she wasn't about to code another of her husband's relatives. At least Carly was clearly breathing, even if her respirations seemed a bit labored. "You aren't really feeling better are you, Carly?" she asked.

Carly silently shook her head and then winced.

"I'm sorry," Monica said as she pressed two fingers to Carly's wrist. Her pulse was fast, around 110 beats a minute and a little thready. She applied the portable pulse oximeter sensor. The saturations registered at 98% and with a heart rate of 112 which correlated. Carly did feel warm and a bit clammy so perhaps she was just febrile. That would likely be the best possible explanation, Monica decided as she reached for the ear sensor thermometer and inserted it. When the thermometer beeped and registered 102.8, she wasn't really surprised.

"You are running a fever. Why don't I get you a cool cloth for your head and maybe Ned would like to give Dr. Meadows a call," Monica said as she got up and walked into the attached bathroom of the guest suite

XXXXXXXX

Ned Ashton winced at the 102.8 that registered on the thermometer his aunt showed him. He had been afraid of that. Carly's eyes were all glassy and she was trembling like she had before when the fever had returned. He hated to see her look so uncomfortable. "Is there anything I can get you before I call Dr. Meadows?" he asked.

Carly seemed to consider the question, but she didn't say anything. She moved restlessly as if she couldn't find a comfortable position.

Ned suspected she couldn't and that tore at his heart a little bit more. "What hurts?"

"It isn't really pain, I just feel so weak and unsteady that it's uncomfortable," Carly said.

"I'm sorry that this has been so hard. But you're doing so well, you really are. Do you think you would be more comfortable back in the hospital?"" Ned asked.

"Not really, but I'll do whatever Dr. Meadows says is best for the baby," Carly said.

"I've never doubted that honey," Ned said as his aunt returned and laid a wet washcloth across Carly's forehead.

Ned turned more towards his aunt. "Monica, I'm going to touch base with Dr. Meadows. Would you mind staying with Carly while I do that?" he asked.

"Of course," Monica said.

XXXXXXXX

So many unpleasant thoughts swirled in Carly's head as she laid in bed and tried to ignore how shaky and weak, she felt. She had reached a new low where as uncomfortable as she was around Ned's aunt, she was more afraid of being alone. Perhaps Dr. Monica Quartermaine sensed that and that was why she was being much nicer to Carly than Carly knew she deserved.

"Is there anything else I can get you, Carly?" Monica asked.

Carly couldn't even begin to answer that question as just trying to take a breath seemed to take more energy than she had. She struggled for a deep breath, but it seemed too hard, so she resigned herself to short shallow breaths. That felt a little better. Or it had until the whole room started spinning and she broke out in a cold sweat.

Monica readjusted the cool compress on her head and then gave her shoulder a squeeze. "You're ok, Carly, but you need to relax your breathing, try to breathe in and out through your nose" she said.

As ridiculous as that sounded it actually did help, with the breathing at least. She still felt really dizzy, shaky, and sweaty though.

"That's really good, Carly, you're doing great," Monica encouraged.

Carly knew Monica was being so much nicer than she needed to be but the idea that she had a hit a point where breathing was a big accomplishment was too much. The tears she had been trying to hold back came spilling out and then it really was too late because she couldn't stop them. All she could do was lay there and sob pathetically.

Surprisingly Monica just sat down on the bed and patted her back much the way she had the day before at the hospital. That seemed like so long ago. Carly struggled again to take a shaky deep breath as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry," she finally managed to mumble.

"You don't need to apologize for your tears, Carly. I think we all wish this pregnancy was easier for you and I think we really all want to support you. Now, we're Quartermaines so wanting to support you may not mean that we actually do things you find most supportive so please tell us what you need. Or at least tell us if we're making things harder," Monica said.

Monica's words sounded genuine but that just left Carly even more conflicted. She was still considering that when Ned returned.

"So, Dr. Meadows thinks that you are likely still having fevers from the pneumonia and that if the fever goes down with some Tylenol, then it is alright to rest at home. If it doesn't respond to that then she would want you to go back to the hospital for more labs. How does that sound?" Ned asked.

"Ok, I guess," Carly said.

"Why don't I bring you some Tylenol and some Sprite?" Monica offered and Carly noted that she quickly slipped away before really waiting for an answer.

"I guess I should have listened to you about church," Carly said once Ned had sat down on the bed and taken her hand again.

Ned started to rub her back with his free hand. "If you were feeling better this morning and then it kind of caught up with you, I understand and like I've said before honey you don't need to apologize for being sick. I just want you to be able to let me know when you need something because I want to take care of you," he said

"I feel bad about dumping all of this one you," Carly said.

"I wish you weren't so ill right now, but you aren't dumping anything on me. We're in this together, honey. If we try to take this day by day, do you think you can be honest with me about how you're feeling and let me help you?"

Carly knew she was meant to say yes. The problem was it was so hard to let herself be vulnerable and basically dependent on Ned. That had never really worked before. Her mother had thought she was being melodramatic or faking; Tony had basically laughed while she cried; and Jason had tried, but he just couldn't.

Ned squeezed her hand. "I'm right here Carly," he whispered as the door opened and Monica came back in.

"Here is some Tylenol and Sprite. Is there anything else I can get either of you?" Monica asked as she set a glass and a small cup with two tablets down on the table beside the bed.

Carly silently shook her head.

"I don't think so. Thank you, Monica," Ned said.

"Of course. Your family will always be welcome in our home and Alan and I both want to help either or both of you in any way we can," Monica said before she slipped away again.

"Why don't I help you sit up so you can take these pills?" Ned asked. He gently scooped her up and laid her back against his chest and then handed her the pills before tipping the sprite to her lips.

Carly swallowed and then took another sip. Her head swum and she clung to Ned.

"I've got you, honey. Do you want to drink a little more or just lie back down?"

"I think I need to lie down," Carly said.

Ned helped her lie down on her left side and then laid down beside her. He pulled her into his arms and held her. In that moment Carly tried to believe that he really could be there for her.

XXXXXXXX

Ned Ashton felt Carly drift off to sleep in his arms. He wanted to believe that they had gotten somewhere but he was afraid that she would be back to feeling like she was burdening him once she was awake. He worried about that because he worried about her and the baby but also because she just seemed so insecure, and he hated that for her. So perhaps he just needed to focus on caring for her physically and hope that would help them build a stronger emotional connection. With that thought he extricated himself from the bed but arranged the pillows so she was propped up and as comfortable as he could help her be. Then he leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. "Hang in there Carly, you're doing so great for Michael. I am just going to check on a few things downstairs and then I will be back," he whispered.

When he exited the room, he was surprised to find his mother about to knock on the door. "Monica was going to put a plate aside for Carly, but she thought maybe you would like to eat now," his mother suggested.

Ned wasn't sure how to diplomatically suggest to his mother that her sitting with Carly to allow him to eat was likely a bad idea. That was even harder when he considered he had requested that Monica sit with Carly so he could call Dr. Meadows.

"Don't worry Ned, I am merely the messenger. Beth is getting Kensi situated and then she was going to come upstairs and sit with Carly," Tracy Quartermaine-Grabler said.

"Mother," Ned began but couldn't really find the words.

"Ned, I understand, I really do. Carly does not look well so I certainly don't want to make any of this harder for her. Believe it or not I never wanted to make anything harder for Lois either," his mother said.

Ned did believe that. Anyway, it wasn't like he had exactly made things easy or pleasant for Lois himself.