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*Capable and Wide Revenge*
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Her gasp filled the room as the door slammed open and an angry form appeared. In utter shock she watched as the person lifted a finger in her direction and shouted, "Murderer!” The door banged loudly against the wall, the wind and rain blowing around the dark shadow in the doorway. A sudden bolt of lightening brightened the darkened form, scaring her to death.
She was frozen in position, the glass she was holding sliding from her hand hitting the floor before shattering into millions of tiny pieces that flew along the wooden floor. Slowly her senses returned causing her to back away cautiously from the open doorway, eyes filled with fear. “No!” she shook her head.
“Murderer!” he entered, the light of the room casting shadows across his pale face. His eyes sparkled as the lights flickered off, his footsteps coming closer.
She shivered. “It can’t be!”
He neared her, the rain dripping from his skin and onto the floor. A puddle formed at his feet when he paused in front of her. “Murderer,” he growled again, eyes flashing.
Lightening flashed across the sky, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the little house, but it was nothing compared to the storm in his eyes. The anger and rage that filled his body made her quiver with fright. He was blinded by hate to her fear; revenge the weapon he carried.
“It’s not true! I didn’t do it!” she fell to her knees before him. “I swear I didn’t do it.” Her entire body shook, eyes cast away from him. It couldn’t be; it wasn’t possible.
“You took my life!” his voice dropped to an angered snarl. “Now I’ll take yours.”
“No,” she cried, begging him with her eyes to leave her free, she covered her ears and rocked in place. “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to do it!”
“Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace…”
“No,” she shook her head, tears rolling in a steady stream down her cheeks. “Please, my family needs me. Oh God, you can’t do this!”
“Shall never look back, never ebb to humble love…”
“Please?” she begged, screaming when he revealed a gun from beneath his rain soaked jacket. “They love me, they need me. Please don’t take me away from them!” He was ignoring her pleas and she couldn’t stop him from his murderous revenge.
“Till that a capable and wide revenge…”
She shivered as the cool black barrel pressed against her temple, clicking as he cocked the gun. He pressed it harder against her head and she cried, tears of fright rolling down her cheeks. “Please, have mercy. Have mercy on me!”
“Swallow them up…”
BANG…
GASP!
Sheridan shot up in bed, clutching the sheet against her glistening body. Terrified eyes sought out her fiancée, but they landed on the empty space beside her. Looking at the clock, she noticed the time was just after midnight. “Luis?” she called faintly. “Luis?”
“Right here, baby,” he peeked out of the bathroom. The clap of thunder outside shook the windowpanes and Sheridan shuddered. She hated storms; ever since she was a child she feared the thunder and lightening of the vicious summer storms. This one was particularly bad and she couldn’t begin to comprehend how their daughter was sleeping through this. Then again, she had slept through some of Sheridan and Luis’ worse fights ever.
“Please come to bed,” her voice quivered, the fear evident in her tone. She held the sheets close.
“I’m coming,” he walked out of the bathroom, shutting the light off and crawling directly into the bed beside her. “Come here,” he opened his arms to her.
Sheridan immediately crawled into his open arms, resting her head against his chest. The remnants of her nightmare slowly fading into the recesses of her mind, she could hear the bang of the gun echoing off the walls of her subconscious. Fear kept her from closing her eyes, though they drooped slightly. She shivered against her fiancé’s body as another bolt of lightening lit the room.
“Sheridan, are you all right?” he rubbed her arm. “You seem tense.”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Get some sleep, we have that birthday party for Pilar today and you know Des will be up before daylight.”
“All right,” he kissed the top of her head. “You sure you’ll all right though?”
“Yea. Night, Luis.”
“Night, baby,” he closed his eyes, almost instantly falling asleep.
Sheridan waited until she head the deep, even breaths of her fiancé before she moved. Crawling from the bed, Sheridan grabbed her bathrobe, sliding into it and her slippers. Quietly she left the bedroom and headed to the room beside theirs. With a smile, she pushed open the nursery door and noticed that Des, their daughter, was fast asleep in her bed. Luis had made special bed rails for her “big girl bed” and she was sleeping soundly beneath the purple and white quilt that Pilar had made.
She shook her head. Desdemona was amazing, a perfect blend of Luis’ Latin looks and her big blue eyes and heart-shaped face. She was their beautiful little girl, barely over two-years-old and the center of her parent’s universe. Crawling into the bed, Sheridan lay beside her daughter and watched her light, even breaths. She was perfect.
“What did I do, Des?” she carefully brushed some of Des’ wispy brown locks from her forehead. “What is Mommy going to do now?” A crystal tear rolled down Sheridan’s cheek. “How can I ever tell your Daddy that I took his Papa away?”
Falling back against her daughter’s pillow, which was hardly ever used by her little angel, Sheridan sighed and closed her eyes. Martin Fitzgerald’s death had never been proven, his wife and children always saying that their husband and father would return. When she had first mentioned her nightmares all those years before, Eve had proven they were nothing more that delusions caused by Sheridan’s pain from her mother’s death. But Katherine had returned, never having actually died, and with her return came Sheridan’s nightmares and Luis’ quest to find his father. Of course, Katherine had been trying to assist as well, having known Martin before she was forced to leave Harmony, but nothing had been found.
Sheridan was the first to remember the dreams, to wonder if Katherine’s death hadn’t been real then the nightmares could have been. But Eve had reminded the younger woman that she had believed her mother to be dead, so it was possible that the dreams were nothing more than the delusions she believed they were years before. Then the dreams returned, more detailed than before and Sheridan knew that deep down inside she had seen Martin before he disappeared. But where and why?
Slowly, Sheridan began to fall asleep as the storm outside dissipated and the morning wore on. Her heart’s only wish was that this time the nightmares wouldn’t return and she would be able to sleep until Des awoke.
The early morning sunlight filtered in through the window; the nighttime storm long since over and done. In its place were the happy song of birds and the clear blue cloudless morning sky that Sheridan often had enjoyed. It seemed so long since she and Luis had risen before the sun to watch the orange hues fill the sky as the sun rose above the horizon. They hadn’t done that since Desdemona was born, mostly worn from her mid-night feedings and then her early risings. “Mama, wake,” Des patted her mother’s cheek. “Mama, wake!” she demanded. Groaning, Sheridan’s eyes fluttered open and she looked as Des, sleep still lingering in her lids. “Morning, sweetie,” she yawned, her daughters tiny fingers slipping into her mouth until Sheridan sat up. “Mama!” Des’ chubby arms encircled her mother’s neck, squeezing gently. She landed on her tiny behind in Sheridan’s lap. “Aww,” Sheridan hugged her back. “Did Des need a hug?” Sheridan tapped her button nose. “Luv,” Des smiled sweetly at her mother, batting her big blue eyes. “Are you two awake now?” Luis asked from the doorway, smiling at both his girls. “Yea,” Sheridan smiled. “What time is it?” “Almost nine,” he entered the room and walked to the baby’s bed. She immediately lifted her little arms to her father. “You two slept late.” “Up.” He chuckled and lifted her into his arms. “Hey Des,” he kissed her cheek; she grinned brightly as she put her small head on his shoulder. Rubbing her back with his strong hand, Luis listened to his daughter hum a song Sheridan often sang. “Come on, baby, we have to get moving. Mama’s party is at noon and we all know it takes forever for Des to take her B-A-T-H.” “No baf!” Des insisted, knowing exactly what they were talking about. She hated the tub of water with a passion, especially when her mother came after her with the soap. No duck was worth that. “Yes bath,” Sheridan climbed out of the bed. “Right after breakfast,” she kissed her fiancé’s lips and tickled her daughter’s sides. “Now, what would you too like?” “Already taken care of,” he smiled. “It will take a little while so you go get ready and I’ll keep Des busy, ok?” “All right. Take care of Daddy, peanut,” Sheridan pecked his lips one more time, then kissed their daughters cheek before heading to the master bedroom. She didn’t think of anything but the wonderful thought of warm water running down her body. Sighing, she closed the bathroom door and flicked on the light, looking into the clear glass of the mirror. Her eyes were clear blue, but empty, lacking the luster she often had after a good night’s sleep in her fiancé’s arms. However, it had been ages since she slept soundly thought the night. She shivered; when had she become the frightened little girl again? Stripping off her clothing, Sheridan turned on the shower and listened to the gentle pattern of the water on the porcelain tiles. “Sounds like the rain,” she tested the water, her eyes glazing over as her nightmare started to replay in her head. The rain against the glass of the windows, the roof of the house… The crash of thunder just before the door slammed open… The flash of lightening as it lit the room… The cold metal of the gun as it pressed against her head… His voice, so deep and vicious as he whispered the words she heard every night in her dreams, “Till that a capable and wide revenge swallow them up…” And then the boom of the gun going off as the bullet pierced her flesh… “God no more,” she closed her eyes, trying to shake the dreams from her memory. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take! How much do you think one person can handle?” she cried. Climbing into the shower, she immediately pressed her pounding head against the cool tile of the stall. The water fell against her back, rolling down her skin and giving her chills. Goose flesh appeared on her skin and Sheridan felt the tears begin to fall. She was losing her hold on her emotions, barely able to hide her feelings from Luis anymore. Just the other day he had heard her talking in her sleep and questioned her about her dreams. If he knew that he was right and her nightmares were back… Well he just couldn’t know. If he did find out, he’d never forgive her. Not only would he hate her for killing his father, he’d also know she had covered it up. He’d never forget the deceit and then he would take her daughter away and Des meant too much to her. She would never ever let Luis take her precious daughter without a fight. But sometimes it was just so overwhelming and she felt as if she really needed to just leave this place behind and never look back. She had been tempted to pack her bags and take her daughter away while Luis was at work. If she left just after he did, she could be states away before he returned home to find them gone. By time he realized they weren’t just out for the day, Sheridan could be almost half a continent away, especially if she took the Crane Jet. Then she could be on another continent entirely! But she just never could get up the nerve to do it; she couldn’t bear to hurt Luis or Desdemona that way. Des loved her father and taking her from him was a horrible idea. Of course, Sheridan could have left alone, dropping Des off with her grandmother and simply disappearing from sight. Luis would search for her, but she could hide so easily on this planet. All she had to do was dye her hair, get some contacts and change her name. Sheridan Crane could just become another face in the sea of faces in any big city and Luis would never find her. But she’d miss him and their baby girl so much… And this is why she was still here; dealing with the nightmares and lying to the man she loved most in the world. Quickly finishing her shower, Sheridan climbed out and toweled off. She wasn’t looking forward to today. Lying to Luis was hard enough. It was impossible to lie to his mother though. The second she looked into Sheridan’s eyes she asked the same thing and Sheridan knew one day she was bound to snap… “Mija! You look so tired!” Pilar hugged her daughter-in-law, taking her granddaughter in the process. “How are you?” “Fine, thank you,” Sheridan replied politely, watching little Des snuggle up to her grandmother. “Sorry we’re late. Des didn’t want to take her bath again. She threw quite a tantrum this time, threw her duck right at Luis’ head.” “Good a good arm too,” Luis rubbed his head, slipping his free arm around Sheridan. “But once she was in the bath she wouldn’t come out.” “Just like you, Mijo. Your Papa would give you baths and you’d insist you didn’t want them. But you loved the water and your sail boats.” Sheridan’s smile faded at the thought of Martin not having the chance to bathe his younger children and spend time with them. She had taken that away from his family in one swoop of that stupid letter opener from her father’s desk. She had killed the only man that was worth living, the man that cherished his family as if they were priceless gems! “Something wrong, Mija?” Pilar touched Sheridan’s arm, offering some support. Sheridan shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I think I’m just a little tired after all. The storm kept me up most of the night.” “You always did hate thunderstorms,” Pilar smiled. “I remember the one night I found you in Martin’s arms because he had arrived early from work…” Sheridan zoned out. Was it her or was everyone suddenly talking about Martin today? Her stomach started to knot and her head began to whirl as she thought about the irony of the situation. Closing her eyes for a second, Sheridan could see the man in her dreams, the shadows hiding his entire face as he moved closer. The gun was pressed against her head and he was laughing at her, mocking her fear! She whimpered. “Capable and wide revenge…capable and wide revenge…capable and wide revenge… capable and wide revenge…” “Stop!” Sheridan cried. “Sheridan?” Luis touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?” She shied away. “No, Luis I did it!” “Did what? Sheridan, what are you talking about?” “I did it,” she swallowed hard. “I did it! I killed Martin Fitzgerald!!” she screamed. The party came to a complete halt around her; the talking and music skidding to a stop, just like the world around her. The air was tense and every pair of eyes was focused on the woman that just had admitted her guilt; that had claimed to be the person behind Martin’s long disappearance. “Sheridan?” Luis looked at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” “Mija?” Pilar gasped. Sheridan’s eyes teared as she looked at Desdemona in Pilar’s arms. Her body shook as she looked around the room, trying to find one set of sympathetic eyes. Someone to tell her this was just part of her nightmare. But no one said anything and most looked away, breaking the eye contact. She was alone. “I…I killed Martin,” she whispered. “I had to be the one that did it.” “Sheridan, we’ve been through this…” Luis started. “No, Luis, I know it I did! I killed him! His blood is on my hands…” “Sheridan, you didn’t kill my…” “Luis!!” she cut him off. “They’re back; the nightmares have returned, worse than ever before,” she shook her head. “I can see him so clearly. He comes after me for vengeance. I did it! I killed him,” she broke down in sobs, her body shaking. “I killed him and my family has hid it from you for years.” “No,” he shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Eve said…” “She was wrong,” Sheridan insisted, watching as tears rolled down his cheek. Out of habit she reached to brush them off his cheek, but he shook his head. Luis moved away from her, one step…two. He kept backing away from her, eyes filling with sadness and hate. He hated her, despised her… Not, not her. The action, yes, The Cranes for sure. But never her. He loved his fiancée and it was hard to believe the truth it was hard to face the fact that his father was gone, his life ruined because of her. She was only a child at the time, just a baby, and still here she was admitting the truth… She killed Martin Fitzgerald. “You killed my father,” he whispered disbelievingly. The entire room was focused on his reaction. His fiancée killed his father; the woman he loved destroyed his life. His head screamed at him to be the cop he was, to cuff her and take her down to the station, but his heart begged him to believe in their love. She was only a child! How could she have killed a man? “Sheridan, are you listening to what you’re saying?” “I’m sorry,” she looked down, head hanging in shame. “I’m sorry I took him away. I’m sorry. I…I don’t know how it happened. I don’t remember. I’m sorry,” she sobbed. No one moved; no one uttered a syllable. Everyone watched the two lovers in peril. Pilar swallowed hard, looking back and forth from the woman she considered a daughter to the man that was her son. This couldn’t be right. What Sheridan said was impossible. Her Martin was alive and even if he weren’t… Well, Sheridan just couldn’t have been the murderer. She was only eleven! She was just a baby and the Cranes had to be responsible for the images in the woman’s head. “Sheridan, you couldn’t have killed Martin…” “But the nightmare,” she said so inaudibly that Pilar had to strain. “The letter opener, I raised it and then…I don’t remember what happened next. But I raised it! I did! And the body under the sheet! The one they put in the coffin!” She shivered. “They put me there too…oh, Pilar I had to do it! How could I remember it so well?” Pilar looked into the eyes of the most loving young woman she had ever met. Sheridan couldn’t kill a spider, forget a person, she was too gentle and far too sweet. But she remembered the night and she swore it was she… Pilar shook her head. This was impossible. The woman wouldn’t have killed Martin; she COULDN’T have killed Martin and she refused to believe it. But her son, he believed it. She saw him coming forward with the silver steel cuffs, clinking as he neared the pair. Her sad blue eyes met his and she nodded, chewing on her lip gently. “I deserve it,” she whispered. “Arrest me,” she put out her wrists. He looked at them, remembering a time years ago when she begged him to do the same; the night Eve hypnotized her to get to the bottom of her dreams. She had sworn she killed his father, begged him to arrest her and make her pay for her sins. He had said no, that he cared for her, that his feelings were too strong and Julian had to be behind this. Now what did he do? Did he punish her? Did she deserve it? What about Des? Swallowing hard, he started to slip the cold steel around her wrist. She looked away, the whispers of the guests breaking her heart. Des started to cry, screaming, “No, Dada, no bad!” Luis continued on his task, locking the bracelet around her wrist and moving to lock the other one, with shaking hands. He started to read her the Miranda rights as tears rolled down their cheeks. “What’s going on?” Katherine asked, walking inside with someone following. “I thought there was a party tonight,” she joked, trying to lighten the tension in the room. “There was,” someone rushed, eyes filled with excitement. “Sheridan is being arrested for the murder of Martin Fitzgerald!” “That’s impossible,” Katherine laughed, mocking the fools. “She couldn’t have killed Martin.” “She confessed,” Luis replied gruffly. “Well she was wrong,” a masculine voice answered. “Because I’m hardly dead.” Everyone spun to see the man Katherine had led in. All eyes were wide as Martin stepped out of the shadowed hall and into the light. Sheridan started to swoon, being caught by Luis who stood rigid with shock. “Papa?” Theresa asked, stepping towards him. “Is that you?” “Martin!” Pilar’s eyes teared. “My Martin,” she put Desdemona down and rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh Martin!” He hugged her. “Hello, Spanish eyes.” “Martin,” she sobbed. “Luis, I demand you take those off of her now. Martin is hardly dead,” Katherine crossed her arms, blue eyes filled with rage. Luis quickly removed the cuffs, helping his fiancée to a nearby chair where she nearly collapsed. Her head pounded in her ears and her eyes blurred. Martin was alive, alive and standing here with her. This was impossible. Even Luis thought it was impossible. She could see the wariness in his eyes after the Martin fiasco years ago. “But,” she looked at Luis. “The murder…” “We’ll figure it out,” he replied, confused beyond belief. “Nothing to figure out,” Martin smiled at his son. “You’ve grown into a fine man and made a fine choice for a wife Luis. I’ve hoped since that night that Sheridan would find you and that you would care for her. She always was like a daughter to me and your Mama.” “But that night,” Sheridan looked at him. “Don’t worry,” his hazel eyes smiled at her. “You did nothing, that I can promise. But the Crane men shall pay.” “A capable and wide revenge,” she whispered. Martin smiled. “Othello. Yes, that’s suitable. It shall be a capable and wide revenge, Sheridan, and you will find truths that will set you free.” He kissed her cheek. “Let’s talk no more about this,” Pilar smiled, lifting Desdemona. “Today is a day for celebrating because my good friend has returned my husband to me.” “And I’m home for good this time,” he smiled, kissing his wife’s cheek and tickling Des’ belly. “No place I’d rather be either.” Sheridan simply watched as the others tried to pick up where the left off minutes before. Her head still spun from the information as she watched Martin and Pilar dance in the corner to the music on the radio. The Pasa Doble! How perfect. She sighed and closed her eyes against the throbbing pain… In the courtroom she watched her Father and brother be led away in shackles, their suits wrinkling beneath the metal cuffs. Her new husband sat beside her, his arm around her shoulders as they watched the many reporters quickly jot down the sentence that Alistair and Julian Crane would be serving… Life in prison for all of their infamous crimes… No chance of parole… Martin came down the aisle, stopping near them. He winked at Sheridan as if to say that everything would be all right from now on. She had nothing to worry about now. With a sigh, she watched Luis and the others file out, leaving her alone in the giant room. She smiled slightly as she thought of her father and brother paying for the murders and illegal dealings they had hidden from the public for over fifty years. Stepping into the aisle she looked at the judge’s bench. Just before leaving the courtroom, Sheridan smirked and whispered, Shall never look back, never ebb to humble love, Till that a capable and wide revenge, Swallow them up!” The End Disclaimer: This story in is in no way meant to infringe upon the rights belonging to , NBC, or any entity thereof. All rights to Passions and any related content, including characters used, belong to "Outpost Farms Production Inc", James E. Reilly, and NBC. This story is the property of the author. Copyright 2002. Nothing may be reprinted in whole or in part without the written permission of the author. Capable and Wide Revenge- Copyright © 2002 - All Rights Reserved. |