Chapter Three: Connecting
field outside Port Charles
few days later
"It's still not working." Carly opened her eyes, propping herself up on one elbow, and looked over at her cousin who was still lying flat in the grass, his eyes closed. She nudged him with her toe until he opened his eyes, turning his head to look at her with an exasperated sigh. Carly narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure you didn't just drag me out here first thing this morning for some kinda Spencer initiation rite? 'Cause if it is, I'm failing miserably."
"Carly. That's because it doesn't work if you can't stay still for more than two seconds." Lucky stared at her, until she lay back down, head-to-head with Lucky, sighing loudly and pointedly. He waited patiently until she closed her eyes, then closed his own, beginning again. "Okay. Now, first thing, breathe deep," he echoed his own words, taking a deep breath, then letting it go. "Then, just -- relax. First your toes, then your legs, and up your whole body. You want to kind of fade into the ground. Keep on breathing," he was quiet a moment, listening to her even breathing. "Now, clear your mind. Empty it of everything; think of nothing--"
"That's impossible." Carly flopped over on her stomach, as Lucky groaned, opening his eyes. "How can you think of nothing??" She shook her head. "I suck at relaxation, Lucky; could've told you that. At a more reasonable hour of the day."
"It's not just relaxation, Carly, it's feeling the earth spin. It's -- I don't know, getting some perspective." He sat up as Carly just looked at him, realizing it was futile, at least for now. "If it makes you feel any better, Dad can't do it either. My mom's the one who taught it to me."
"Like having anything in common with Luke is gonna make me feel better," Carly rolled her eyes, plucking a handful of grass and throwing it at Lucky. They were both quiet a moment, enjoying the rare moment of simple peace and quiet. Peace, quiet and simple were words neither of them were much accustomed to. Carly twisted a long strand of grass around her finger until it broke. "Sorry about the party," she said, not looking up at Lucky. "I know it was a lousy idea."
"Hey, Caroline," Lucky said, looking at her in surprise, "Spencer rule number 23: a party's never a lousy idea."
"Yeah, well, fine," Carly pouted, "good idea, lousy execution; a typical Carly Benson plan." She planted her chin firmly in her hands, looking at him. "Not that you would know or anything since you disappeared at your own homecoming party half an hour into it." Carly could have bitten her tongue off when she saw the almost haunted expression that crossed Lucky's face. "I'm sorry, Lucky," she said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm lightly. "You know I didn't mean--"
Lucky shook his head. "It's okay, Carly, don't freak out on me, okay?" he said, reassuringly. "It was just -- loud. Not that that's a bad thing, I just -- I just don't do loud so well these days." He grinned, suddenly, his face lighting up like wildfire as he did so. Carly almost caught her breath; it was so easy to see why so many people had showed up to celebrate him the other night when her cousin smiled. "Bet my dad loved it, though."
Carly laughed. "Yeah, you missed him and your mom dancing. Man, they were something!" She smiled, then looked at her cousin with narrowed eyes. "And if you ever tell Luke I said that, I'll tell him who it was who told me where he keeps the spare key to his record cabinet!" She laughed at Lucky's face, tossing another handful of grass in his direction.
It was Lucky's turn to laugh as the wind blew the grass back in her face. "I heard," he said, when he regained breath, "that Mom and Dad weren't the only floor show at the party." He looked at Carly a long moment, as the laughter faded from her face. "I never did hear the full story of what happened between you and Sonny, Carly."
"God, Lucky," Carly rolled over, shielding her eyes from both the son and her cousin's gaze with her arm, "it's not a story you wanna hear first thing in the morning on an empty stomach, believe me. The Ballad of Sonny and Carly -- more like one of those country songs that make you wanna cut your wrists by the end."
"You know, when I first came back to Port Charles," Lucky said carefully, not wanting to set his volatile cousin off, "everything was so turned upside down. I didn't know where to look, couldn't -- get my bearings. One of the only things that made sense to me was you and Sonny." He smiled as she dropped her arm and gave him an incredulous look. "Okay, I'm not sayin' it wasn't weird, but weird-right, you know? You and Sonny, I just figured you'd both finally found the one person in this world who'd make each other -- I don't know, whole, I guess." He looked away. "I knew how that felt, once. And, I thought I saw it on your face, Carly."
"Yeah, well, maybe we almost did," Carly said, softly, her eyes far away. "'Almost' -- that was our whole relationship," Carly laughed, bitterly. "He almost let me in, and I almost trusted him. And, we almost made it. But, almost doesn't count, Lucky," she sat up suddenly, her arms crossed tightly across her middle. "Not when it comes to love."
Lucky nodded. "Learned that one a long time ago, cousin mine," he said, his face darkening.
They sat silently a moment, lost in their own private memories of loss, before Carly broke out of it with a sharp laugh. "Depressed enough?" she asked her cousin. "Boy, Lucky, I'm really so glad you woke me up and brought me out here this morning to relax," she teased.
He managed to grin back at her, then stood up, brushing the grass off his pants. "Enough 'relaxing'; I'm headin' back before we have too much fun. Ready?" Lucky held out his hand to Carly.
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No, you know, I think I'm gonna stick around a little while longer, if you'll send a cab back for me in an hour or so. AJ's got Michael, Ginia's with Bobbie, Courtney's watching shop, and I'm gonna try that feeling the earth spin thing again. Hey," Carly tucked her hair behind her ear, and squinted up at Lucky, "the morning wasn't a total bust, though. It was a good thing, talking to you."
Lucky bent down, picking a piece of grass out of Carly's hair. "Yeah, me too," he said, softly. He straightened up. "I'll send someone to pick you up, give or take an hour. Or so," he laughed, then started racing for the car, as Carly shot a suspicious look in his direction.
After she heard his car start back up, Carly lay down again, mumbling to herself, "Breathe deep, close your eyes, relax." She could do all those things; it was the thinking of 'nothing' that got her. Every time she tried to clear her mind, Sonny kept popping in for a visit. "Damnit Lucky," Carly finally cursed, under her breath. Finally, she sighed, and curled up on her side, and just -- let the memories come.
*~ "I can't," Carly had shaken her head, staring at him. "Sonny, I'm sorry, but -- I can't do this." She looked back at the man standing across from her, his eyes, which she'd learned to read so well, unreadable. She pulled herself up, bracing herself against the back of the chair, as the extra pounds she was carrying up front threatened to make her lose her balance. Sonny started to reach out to help her, but she pulled her arm away, standing still for a long moment. Finally, she lifted her tear-stained face to him, one hand resting on her stomach. "I want to marry you, Sonny. Or at least, most of me wants to marry you. And, I get that it's the right thing to do, you know? But, I just can't."
"Why?" he had asked, his voice rough. Sonny picked up the simple bouquet she was supposed to be carrying down in her hand as she walked down the stairs of the penthouse just about now. "Why, Carly? You still waiting for Jason to walk through that door?" he asked, unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.
"No!" Carly burst out, "God, Sonny, you know better than that! I'm waiting, though, I'm waiting for you! I'm waiting for you to give me a sign that this marriage, this relationship isn't just about one night," she indicated her stomach with a sharp gesture of her hand. "That you can spend the rest of your life with me, not just because of our baby, but because," she took a step towards him, her voice breaking, "you can't stand spending the rest of your life without me. I thought I could do this, Sonny. I really thought I could walk down the aisle today because I," she bit her lip, "I thought we could make a life that would be good and real for our kids. But," she shook her head, trembling, "it's not good enough. I'm sorry."
Sonny took two steps forward, closing the distance between them and sliding his hand up into her hair. "Then marry me because you want me," he whispered, his dark eyes looking into hers, willing her to see what was in his heart, what had been growing there for months. "Marry me because you want a life with me, that's good and real. You want a sign, Carly Benson?" he smiled, a dimple showing. "Here's your sign," Sonny lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly, tenderly. "Marry me," he whispered, all laughter gone from his voice and only truth left behind, "because I love you."
Carly slid her hands up to his face, cupping his cheeks in her palms as she stared wide-eyed into her lover's face, trying to gauge what he had just said to her. As he returned her gaze, a smile slowly spread across her face, and she slid her hand down to his lips, tracing them lightly with her thumb. "So let's get married," she whispered, before replacing her thumb with her lips, making her kiss into a promise of forever." ~*
"Only it wasn't forever," Carly whispered to no one in particular, her eyes closed tightly. "Wasn't even close." She could feel the tears in the back of her throat, but she refused to let them come; she had wasted enough tears on Sonny Corinthos. Carly sat up, snapping her eyes open suddenly, only to see a pair of legs standing in front of her. She looked up, to see Marcus Taggert, looking back down at her with a concerned expression on his face.
"I ran into your cousin," he said, squatting. "Said something about you needing a ride. I figured I might do better than a cab, and since it was almost lunch time, I figured we could catch a bite at Kelly's." Taggert looked closely at Carly. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah, more or less. I was tryin' this relaxation thing Lucky tried to teach me," Carly smiled ruefully. "I don't think it's working, though."
"You want relaxation, your Aunt Ruby's chili'll do it every time." Taggert laughed at Carly's dubious expression. "Yeah well, that or take your mind off anything but your taste buds. Either way," he glanced at her shrewdly, "you won't have room in that brain of yours to think about Sonny Corinthos anymore."
Carly didn't bother to deny it; she just stood up, waiting for him to join her. They walked to the car together, quietly, his hand at the small of her back, until Carly suddenly stopped, whirling on him. "Wait a minute. When you 'ran into' my cousin," she asked, with her hand on her hip, "exactly how fast was the little butthole driving in my mother's car?"
Sonny's penthouse
Alexis Davis walked into the penthouse, setting down the two cups and the brown paper bag on the kitchen table. "Sonny," she called, upstairs, noting that at least this morning, he had opened the drapes. Or at least, not closed them when Graziella had opened them. "Breakfast!"
He came padding down the stairs a moment later, pausing to stare at her, and shake his head once. "How you can call a cup of bad coffee and a bag full of too sweet danishes breakfast is beyond me," Sonny said, shaking his head with a quick grin. "And you're usually such an intelligent woman."
Alexis stared back at him, her jaw almost dropping. This was not the same man she'd been bringing coffee and donuts to the past few mornings, just to make sure he was actually putting something other than alcohol in his stomach. No, this Sonny was shaved, he was smiling, and he actually seemed to comprehend that the world hadn't stopped. Alexis lifted an eyebrow, trying to mimic his light tone. "Better than those liquid breakfasts you've been subsisting on," she said tartly, handing him his coffee. "And, Sonny," she cocked her head to the side, "I'm always an intelligent woman; you'd do better not to forget that one."
He grinned, putting the coffee firmly back down on the table. "I never do, Alexis, don't worry." Sonny took her by the arm, sitting her down at the table; Alexis was too stunned by this even more baffling turn around to protest. Usually he was urging her out the door from the instant she got there. "Sit down," he said patiently, "this time, it's my turn. I'm making you breakfast. And," he picked up the paper cup with a look of disgust, "a real cup of coffee. Once you've tried my cappuccino, Miz Davis, believe me, you will never go back."
In what seemed like only moments, there was a dazzling array of food on the table. Melon wrapped in prosciutto, an omelet with cheese and chives, and what looked like freshly baked croissants greeted Alexis, and she turned to Sonny with a look of amazement on her face. He grinned and placed a freshly brewed cappuccino at her plate, sitting down beside her. "Who are you?," she shook her head, still staring at him. "And what did you do with Sonny Corinthos?" she asked.
onny laughed, sitting back in his chair. "This is me, Alexis, finally. I just woke up this morning, and, I don't know, I -- woke up. Somethin' you said, the other day at the Grille, about goin' through the motions, until they stop being motions and start being your life," he shrugged, with a half-grin. "I'm slow, sometimes, but I do listen. Sometimes." He leaned across the table towards her, catching her eye. "You comin' by these past few mornings, it meant a lot, Alexis. Reminded me that there was a world outside this empty penthouse. Thank you," he said softly, his voice slightly raspy. She started to say something, and he lifted a hand. "And, don't tell me you were just doin' it for the money, Alexis. I don't pay you enough for that. This," he gestured at the breakfast in front of him, "doesn't come close to repaying what I owe you, but it's a start."
She was silent a moment; she wasn't good with 'thank-yous'. Alexis lifted her eyes to Sonny. "An hour every morning wasn't a big deal, Sonny," she said. "I've been where you are, that's all; I know what it is to forget how to live when your life comes crashing down around you," she shook her head, then flashed a smile of her own back at him. "You're right though; you don't pay me enough."
Sonny laughed. "Well, Counselor, you'll have to let me take you out to lunch later today to start makin' up for that. Just a friendly lunch," he forestalled Alexis' protest. "I'm a man who always pays his debts, Alexis," he said, leaning towards her.
Alexis caught his gaze a moment longer than was comfortable, before she glanced down and away. "You don't have to repay me, Sonny," she said, quickly. "I was just -- being a friend. But," Alexis looked back at him, "if it makes you feel better, I will let you take me to lunch, anyway. On one condition," she warned. Sonny lifted his chin, looking at her questioningly. "That if we're going out to lunch, you don't get mad if I don't eat this incredible breakfast!"
Emily's apartment
Emily walked into her apartment, sliding her sunglasses on top of her head and letting her bookbag slip silently to the floor. She reached out to close the door gently, and winced as a sudden gust of wind from the open window slammed it shut. Glancing out behind her fingers, which had flown up to cover her eyes, Emily breathed a sigh of relief as she saw bare feet sticking off the end of the sofa and heard the murmur of the TV. Lark was already up, and this was a good thing. Her roommate had been known to come awfully close to murder on being rudely waken up. "Hey," she called, stepping into the kitchen to grab an apple, then scooching into the small corner of the couch not taken up by Lark sprawling across it. Emily glanced at the TV, and wrinkled her nose with distaste. "How can you watch this stuff?" she asked, as the crowd on the TV started chanting 'Jerry, Jerry!'.
"It's kind of comforting," Lark responded, hitting the power button on the remote, and sliding forward to a half-way sitting position. "Makes me grateful for my family. The Scanlons may be dysfunctional as hell, but at least we're not advertising the fact to everyone with a TV antenna," she nodded at the blank TV screen, then back at Emily. "So," she poked her with one bare foot, "how'd your critique go this morning?"
Emily sighed, kicking her sandals off and sliding lower on the couch. "I don't know yet," she said, taking a bite of her apple. "Ask me again later."
"That new piece you wrote about your mom was the best thing you've ever done, Em. If Braeburn didn't like it, he's an ass," Lark said fiercely.
"He didn't not like it," Emily said slowly. "I'm still processing what he did say; promise I'll tell you about it when I get it straight in my head, 'kay?" She glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at her friend. "Don't you have an anatomy final, like, ten minutes ago?"
"Nope," Lark grinned. "Students with 4.0 gradepoint averages in Dr. Latham's class do not have to take the final exam," she quoted, then stuck out her tongue at Emily, not at all modest. Emily threw her apple core at Lark, giggling as it missed and flew over her roommate's head to land in the potted plant by the window. "Hey," protested Lark, "I can't help it if I'm a genius!" Emily began advancing on her with a pillow and a murderous look in her eye, and Lark scrambled up, grabbing a scrap of paper from the coffee table. "Phone messages, phone messages," she said frantically, laughing. "Kill me and you'll never be able to decipher my handwriting!
Emily considered for a moment, then dropped the pillow. "Okay, but be aware I'm only not killing you 'cause I just got my nails done yesterday," she said, settling back down on the couch.
Lark grinned at Emily, then sat back down on the couch, shooting Emily a wary look before glancing back down at the paper in her hand. "Okay, first, Eve called; she wanted to remind you that you're sitting for Michael tonight while she and AJ host some party or something. She sounded pretty frantic; is Michael coming over here or are you going over there?" Lark looked at Emily over the paper in her hand.
"He's coming over here," Emily said decisively. "The party's some big Charity Guild deal, and Eve's been stressing about it for, like, weeks now. No way am I going over there tonight."
"Guess that means Jason and I aren't gonna have a night in tonight, then," Lark stretched out her legs, planting her feet in Emily's lap.
"Oh, sorry about that," Emily looked at Lark. "You know, I could always take Michael over to my parents' house--"
Lark shook her head. "No, you know, don't worry about it, Em. It'll give me an excuse to get dressed up and make Jason take me out. I may even be able to convince him to take me somewhere without a pool table."
Emily laughed, swatting Lark's foot playfully. "I warned you, when you and Jason hooked up, that my brother wasn't the suit and tie type. And, that he'd rather stay in than actually hang out with other people nine times out of ten."
"Who wants a tie when you've got motorcycles and leather jackets?" Lark said, her eyes slightly heavy-lidded as she smiled slowly at Emily. "And, staying in with Jason isn't a bad thing, believe me," she shivered, delightfully.
"Ewww," Emily grabbed for the pillow again, this time pulling it down over her ears. "Lark, he's my brother!"
Lark shrugged. "Too bad for you," she said, grinning wickedly. "Okay, okay," she relented as Emily lifted the pillow from her ears, pointing it at Lark threateningly. She looked down at the scrap in her hand, trying to read her own writing. "Oh, yeah," she lifted her head and looked at Emily with a cocked eyebrow, "a cute boy called."
"A cute boy?" Emily asked, folding her legs under her and leaning forward, curiously. "Lark, how can you tell if someone's cute or not on the phone? Was there a message?"
Lark shook her head. "No message. I don't think; he woke me up, so I may have been a little, teeny-tiny bit -- sharp with him on the phone. He was definitely cute, though, I could just tell. Oh, wait," she peered at a scrawl at the bottom of the paper, "there was a message; he said to tell Em that Foster missed his girlfriend? Does that help at all?" she asked.
Emily smiled softly. "Yah, it does. Foster misses Annabelle, hmmm," Emily shook her head and laughed. She looked over at a very curious Lark, and started to explain, then stopped. For whatever reason, she wasn't ready to share Lucky, yet. "I know who it was, Lark, just an old friend."
"Old friend, old shmiend," Lark protested, then nudged Emily with her foot. "But is he a cute old friend?"
"Lark!" Emily protested, laughing, and finally tossed the pillow at her roommate's face.
"I knew it," came the satisfied, muffled proclamation from underneath the pillow. "Told you he was cute."
