January 12th
I can hardly believe it! Oh diary, when I was warned about this family, I had no idea about what I was getting myself involved with! Since Ivan's death, nothing has gone right in this household, everything seems to be in a disarray and to make matters worst, Petros has once again, surfaced.
*~*
Irenie smiled as she cooed to baby Stavros after his evening bath. After drying him off, she quickly dressed him for dinner before heading to the hallway. Despite hating every ounce of Helena, she was proud to have been singled out by her to care for first born son and heir to the Cassadine throne, Stavros. It was hard not to enjoy Stavros's jovial giggle as he grabbed for her hair and face and it was no secret that she adored him as well. It didn't bother Helena or Mikkos, neither took much interest in their son, save for public display. It confused Stavros, to have two complete strangers fawning and clutching him in front of photographers and journalists. The lights and sounds often frightened him and after a few minutes, he would begin to cry and reach for Irenie.
"Irenie!"
Irenie jumped to attention as she heard Helena's sharp call for her. Checking over Stavros, she gave him a quick peck on the nose before emerging from the nursery bathroom. Helena stood and without a word, took Stavros from her arms. The disruption caused Stavros to whimper for a moment, he didn't like this woman, she shouted and didn't talk to him the way Irenie did.
"Prepare the guest bedroom, Mikkos's br-cousin," Helena said, catching herself quickly, "is coming to meet Stavros, you know the proper arrangements. Then I want you to prepare Stavros's meal and feed him before putting him to bed. Is that clear?"
Irenie nodded, "yes Madame, will there be anything else?"
Helena pursed her lips thoughtfully, "leave some red wine and a fruit basket out on the counter near the refrigerator," she said, a small smile crossing her lips. She and Petros had never been properly introduced when she and Mikkos were married. He had been aloof and quiet, barely raising his eyes to greet her before disappearing for the remainder of the evening. Helena remembered him though, desire for him had swept through her body, making her shiver. She had been naive then, believing that it was improper to bed another while having just married Mikkos. She remembered the horror at watching Mikkos bed a servant girl, barely of age, mere days after their wedding. A servant girl! He should have at least had the decency in lusting after someone with more prestige and royalty. No matter, Helena decided, I've provided the heir to the Cassadines, I have wealth, power and the freedom to enjoy it now.
*~*
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The Brownstone
Bobbie stared carefully at her brother from across the kitchen table while she sipped her tea. Upstairs, Stefan was in a deep sleep after having had a shower, taken his medication and his tender ribs being taped up again. The whole procedure had exhausted him and Bobbie was thankful that at least for now, he was safe from outsiders. The idea of Stefan facing off with Helena in his weak condition, despite the drastic improvement in the last few days, terrified Bobbie to no end.
"Well," Luke finally spoke, it had been almost thirty minutes since he lay his eyes on Stefan Cassadine, alive, and the shock was just wearing off, although he wasn't sure if what bothered him more was Stefan being alive, or Stefan being alive and sleeping half-naked in his sister's home. Shaking the image from his head, his gaze rose to meet Bobbie's.
Bobbie smiled hopefully, it was in these moments that she relied on Luke to just pull a masterful plan from nowhere. She needed reassurance now, with Carly in Ferncliffe and Lucas with Tony, she knew they were under decent protection but her children weren't with *her*, and the idea of one of them just disappearing like Nikolas had could reduce her to tears, making her completely useless, so Bobbie had chosen to remove the two from her innermost thoughts, as best she could.
"Well," Luke said again, "I don't think we should do anything drastic right now. Moving Vlad isn't the best plan but he would probably be safer at Jason's Penthouse. You visiting each day, using Michael as a cover, in order to nurse him back to health, will have to be our next step though. It makes things safer for you and for him," Luke said, his voice barely registering at the thought of arranging things so Stefan Cassadine could *live* through this ordeal. The idea of taking out the Cassadines now had occured to him more than once. This was the opportunity he had waited for in almost three years and yet, the idea of pulling something at this stage wasn't too appealing. Nikolas's disappearance had shocked him too. Almost immediately, Laura shut down emotionally and despite his reservations, Lucky had returned home and the tension had mounted, finally exploding the day of Stefan's funeral. Now Laura occupied her day caring for LuLu and Lesley while Lucky spent most of his time with Emily at the Quartermaines. It couldn't have worked out better, Laura, LuLu and Lesley at the Spencer home under full security with Luke and Lucky with Emily, who was already under strict supervision due to her ties to Jason. For awhile, Luke had almost convinced himself that under the circumstances, things weren't that horrible.
And yet, things weren't that good either. Laura seemed distant, mostly concerning Nikolas, and in order to cope, distracted herself with her family. Luke had never seen Laura do so much cooking and cleaning in his life but he knew what was causing it and it was driving him mad, to say the least. He never liked Nikolas but for what his disappearance was doing to his wife, he'd been using up most of his free time to hit the spiritual beat, and prayed almost every day at St. Timothy's, to return him safetly.
Bobbie nodded, eager for Luke to take over the recent and drastic change in events. This world of danger and uncertainty frightened her, she could revel in her leadership at GH, on *her* turf but this thing with Stefan and Nikolas was different, uncontrolled and without any kind of proper path. Like all good Spencers, Bobbie was fearless and adventurous, to a certain degree, but now, all she could be was scared.
"Listen, we're going to have to lay low for a bit, until Jason and I can figure out a plan so until then, just keep doing what you're doing with Cassadine. I'll come by later to bring you up to speed." Luke rose and headed for the front door.
"Hey Luke," Bobbie called as Luke stepped onto the front porch. "Any news on Nikolas?" she asked. She knew there was a very good chance no one would ever see Nikolas alive again, but somehow, she wouldn't buy the story until she saw the body. Bobbie knew it was morbid to think the thoughts she was having but she needed to keep her own emotions in check, especially around Stefan. If he was dead, she'd have to put her own grief aside to help Stefan deal with his.
Luke sighed, he'd been waiting for this. "Nothing yet, he just vanished," he reported reluctantly. Watching Bobbie's disapointment, he felt the need to say more. "Bobbie, I never wanted it like this for Nikolas. I don't know what I wanted, but it wasn't this," he said urgently.
Bobbie reached out and pulled Luke into a hug. As he clutched her tightly, she knew that no matter how many times Laura had said Nikolas's disappearance wasn't his fault, he still shouldered the blame. If he'd only welcomed Nikolas into his home a little sooner, if he'd only put aside his hate to notice Laura's first born child and not a Cassadine, had saved his baby girl's life. If, if, if. She knew he needed, without saying anything, for someone to be on his side and that someone was her.
"I love you," she whispered into his ear.
Luke nodded, "I know."
********
Jensen Home San Frasisco, CA
Dara shut the back door of her house with a click and breathed in her home. Six years since she'd been here and not much had changed. Wandering through the place, gently touching photographs, running her fingers along counters and banisters, she noted the changes and marvelled at how wonderful it still felt to be here. Finally, up on the second floor, she found her room, her 4th grade art project effort from school with her name spelled out with tiny bits of wood, each letter painted with a bright color and the name itself, surrounded with little designs, glitter and little bits of cut out wall paper samples and construction paper. The whole thing was mounted onto a piece of wood, and although it had taken Dara weeks to finish to her satisfaction, it was no larger than a regular sized envelope and weighed no more than 5 pounds. Still, Adair and Faye had ooohed and ahhhed over it and hung it proudly on her door. Over the years, Dara had lost interest in its meaning until today. Looking at it now, she saw it as a gateway to who she was. Hard working, dedicated and proud, but also fun, imaginative and even, at times, a little crazy.
Smiling to herself, Dara opened her bedroom door and took a step inside her old room, her former sanctuary. She quietly walked around the room, examining the contents of it. She pulled out a few books from her bookshelf, examining the contents of her novels from high school and college. She finally came across the well worn back of Jane Eyre and opened it immediately to her favorite section.
"It is vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquility: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment."
Dara smiled and closed her eyes, she loved that passage since reading it as a junior in high school. It gave her such a surge of strength back then. From the way she felt just reading it now, Dara noted at how it still did. Dara carefully put the book back on the shelf and continued her rummage, taking each stuffed animal and giving it a squeeze, instantly remember each name. The athletic and academic awards she'd recieved over the years as a young girl and little momentos. Her walls were decorated with photographs of family and friends and of course, Katherine Hepburn hung proudly above her desk.
"The women's position in the world today is so much harder than a man's that it makes me choke everytime I hear a man complain about anything!"
"Right on girl,"Dara murmured after reading the quote inscribed underneath the photograph. Her eyes soon caught the action that was going on below her, on the street just in front of her Mothers rose bushes. Neighbourhood children were riding their bikes, rollerblading around and generally being children. Dara smiled fondly at them, she'd had many good times herself when she was young as she heard the loud shrieks and gales of laughter from them.
"The best of times, "she said quietly, enjoying the silence of the moment. Taking a deep breath and releasing it loudly, Dara left her room and headed down the staircase and reached the kitchen entrance just in time to hear the floors near the kitchen table creek. Dara froze at the entrance, hoping the noise had somehow been made by her. Then the creek happened again and Dara's fears heightened. Her eyes grew as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching towards her. Quickly she looked around her area and her face fell when she saw that the only weapon of defense she could use was her Mother's umbrella. Dara took it and held it much like it was a baseball bat and prepared to swing it as the footsteps grew louder until a shadow loomed around the corner.
"AHHHHHHH!!!!" Dara screamed, rounding the corner like a wild warrior, striking at the figure before her with the umbrella.
"Ahhh! Stop! Stop!" the man shrieked as he ran backwards covering his front with his arms, keeping his head down.
"GET OUT!!! GET OUT!! I have a gun!" Dara bellowed as she continued to wave the umbrella frantically at the man who stumbled into one of the kitchen tables, falling over it and hitting the floor with a loud thud.
"OWW! Son of a!"the man howled and Dara stopped herself mid swing. She peered at the cowering man on the floor, suddenly realizing who the prowler was.
"Fynn?"
"Dara?"
It was *him*.