Little Earthquakes: Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen: Secrets
the GH ER
It's happening again it's happening again it's happening againechoed over and over again in Sonny's head as he burst through the doors of the ER, Carly in his arms, her arms wrapped about his neck. "I need some help here," he called, on the edge of frantically. It was happening again; someone he cared about, a woman he cared about, was in pain. A baby was dying. And, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. "I need some help, now!" Sonny shouted this time, his voice immediately commanding all attention around him.
A nurse was at his side within seconds, followed by Karen Wexler who, just her luck, had drawn an ER shift tonight. "Sonny," she said, her hand reaching for Carly's to feel her pulse automatically, "what happened? What's the problem, here?"
"Kari," Sonny registered, no room for surprise in his tone as he acknowledged her. "She's pregnant; we were talking, and she started having pains. Please," he locked eyes with Karen, "please, Kari, you have to help her."
Karen nodded. "We will, I promise. But, you have to put her down, first," she said gently, as he gripped Carly tighter automatically, then meeting Karen's eyes, lay her gently down on the waiting gurney. Carly whimpered slightly, then curled up on her side, her hands pressed protectively over her stomach. Karen moved around her, then looked up at Sonny. "How far along is she?"
Sonny ran his hand through his hair, his eyes locked on Carly's white face. God, he had done this; he had been here before. "I don't know," he said, distractedly. "Two and a half months, three at the outside."
"Sixteen weeks," Carly's voice was soft, but irrefutably sure. Sonny's gaze snapped down to her, and she refused to return it, looking only at Karen. "Almost four months."
"Okay," Karen touched her hair briefly, reassuringly, speaking in her most calm, most professional voice, "that's good. The further along the baby is, the more viable the fetus." She looked at the nurse, "Exam room three, and page Dr. Newman, quickly." The nurse nodded, and began to wheel Carly away. As Karen started to follow, she was stopped by a hand on her arm.
"Karen," Sonny's voice was rough, "she lost a baby, not long ago. Please--" He broke off, choking back too many emotions than he knew how to name.
Karen's eyes were gentle, full of compassion. She knew who's baby Carly had lost, not long ago. "I remember," she said quietly. "We'll do the best we can. Sonny," she paused a moment, biting her lip, "you should call her husband; I'll have her mother paged."
Sonny nodded, and with one last squeeze to his arm, Karen disappeared after Carly. Sonny watched them go, his eyes tracking every movement until they left the lobby area. After they disappeared, he was finally free to let out a long shuddering breath, dropping his head into his hands for a long moment. Sixteen weeks. Almost four months. With a harsh, dismissive gesture, Sonny lifted his head and pulled out his cell phone, punching in the numbers. "Yeah, it's Corinthos. I need to talk to Morgan. Now."
Luke's
Lucy threw open the door to Luke's office, speaking almost before she entered the room. "Luke, my very good, bestest pal in the whole-wide world, I--" She broke off, noticing for the first time the woman springing quickly off of the arm of Luke's chair. Lucy's eyes widened as she looked back and forth between Alexis and Luke, noting the beginnings of a flush in the former and the failure of the latter to meet her eyes. "Well, well," she lifted an eyebrow. "If I'm interrupting..."
Alexis cleared her throat, hastily gathering her briefcase, her coat and a discarded scarf that had, rather embarrassingly, fallen behind Luke's chair. "No, no. I was just -- leaving." She straightened up, heading for the door. Alexis paused, her hand on the knob and turned back to Luke, noises coming out of her mouth before her brain managed to catch up. "So, I'll get back to you later about that, um, thing." Alexis turned away from Luke, and back to Lucy, nodding without meeting her eyes. "Good to see you, Lucy," she said, then turned and fled for her life.
Lucy, meanwhile, strode over to her very best pal, still sitting in his chair behind his desk, and reached down, wiping a lipstick smear off of his chin with her thumb. She leaned back, scooting up on the edge of his desk, facing him. Lucy held out her thumb, the lipstick smear evident, towards Luke. "What are you <i>doing</i>, Luke?" Her hands fell to her hips. "That, that, that lawyer is one of them, Luke Spencer!"
Luke leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk beside Lucy, and slowly, deliberately choosing a cigar and lighting it, all before he answered Lucy. "One of who, Luce?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lucy slapped Luke's legs away from her and snatched a cigar of her own out of his humidor. She fiddled with it, looking at him incredulously. "One of them;, Luke!" She made a flapping motion with her hands. "The bat people -- you know, those guys you've been ranting and raving and mortal enemying about forEVER."
Luke shrugged, with deliberate nonchalance. "Yeah, well, things change, Luce." She gave him a look, and he leaned forward abruptly, slamming his feet down. "Hell, Lucy, what can I do? My w-- Laura's married to one, my kid's bein' raised with one and by one, and Alexis is -- off-limits," he glared at her forbiddingly, his gaze softening slightly. "Even for you, beautiful." Luke sighed, and sat back in his chair again. "I don't know, Luce-Lu," he ran his fingers over his scalp, "seems like the whole world's gone and turned on it's head. Maybe it's just time to start lettin' the past die a sorry death." He looked at Lucy, was silent a long moment, and finally spoke, his voice quieter than Lucy had ever heard it, except for once. "I'm too old to be playin' cloak and dagger games anymore, baby. Live and let live," Luke shrugged, "at least, that's what people keep tellin' me."
Lucy leaned forward, sliding off the desk to stand in front of Luke. She looked down at her friend for a long moment, then leaned down, sliding her arms around his neck and perched on the arm of his chair, her forehead resting against the side of his head. "Luke," she whispered, "you will never, ever be old, pal." She waited until she felt the slow, reluctant smile start to spread on his face then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. "But it's about darn time you decided to let the past be -- the past. And, it just so happens," Luke let out a groan at those words, and Lucy punched him not-so-gently in the shoulder, continuing blithely, "that I have a way for you to test your little 'past is the past' theory."
"Think it was your 'theory', baby," Luke grumbled, turning his head to blow out a stream of smoke. "Alright, Luce, I'll bite; what d'ya want me to do?"
Lucy continued to stroke his neck and temples lightly, massaging as she spoke. "Do you remember Jerry Jacks?" she asked, her voice deliberately casual.
"The Wonder from Down Under? Unfortunately," Luke cracked open an eyelid that had closed under Lucy's skilled hands. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.
"Because he needs a favor. And, before you get all judgmental and Luke-y on me, I want you to think really really hard about what you just said about letting go of the past and letting it stay dead and buried, which I think is a very, very healthy way to look at things--"
Lucy's enthusiastic burst was cut off as Luke rose abruptly, staring at her. "You want me to do the jerk who broke my baby sister's heart a favor?" he asked her incredulously. "Luce, you finally slid head first down that deep end, beautiful. The past may be dead, but family's family. And," he looked at her harder, "what the hell is Jerry Jacks doin' asking you for favors, anyway? He's supposed to be long gone, on a one-way ticket to somewhere far away from here, courtesy Corinthos."
"Well, he's not. He's back," Lucy shot back, folding her arms, her chin lifting. "And, he didn't exactly ask; me for anything; I'm just -- volunteering my services. And you, Lucas Lorenzo Spencer, are going to help me. Because if you don't," Lucy overrode his protests, "I have this funny little feeling I might just accidentally happen to mention what I walked in on earlier with you and everyone's favorite little Cassa-bat-adine lawyer."
Luke glared at Lucy a long moment, then sighed, visibly deflating. "What is it about you, woman? I spend time with you, I always end up doin' the damnedest things." He shook his head, woefully, sitting back down in the chair behind his desk. "Jerry Jacks?" he asked piteously, giving her a puppy-dog look. "C'mon, Lucy, do I hafta?"
Lucy laughed, dropping her head to press a kiss against his forehead. "Yes. But," she grinned wickedly, "I promise I'll make it up to you..."
Luke reached up, pulling her down until she was again perched on the edge of his chair. "Oh, baby." Luke shook his head once, with a leer. "Now, you know you don't get to make a promise like that and not expect me to take you up on it, don't you?"
GH corridor
"Nine...ten...ha!" Serena stood up, looking at V triumphantly. She brushed her tousled blonde hair away from her face. "Told you I could do ten cartwheels in a row," she held out her hand palm upwards. "You so owe me."
V sighed dramatically, and pulled a king-size Hershey's bar, no almonds, out of her shoulder bag, plopping it into Serena's waiting hand. "But, if your dad asks, you never came anywhere near chocolate today; all we had for snack was a nice, healthy non-chocolate-covered apple."
Serena laughed, opening the candy bar, and holding out a square to V before breaking off a corner of her own. "Deal." Serena shook her head. "Men," she sighed, and V had to hide a smile; the sound, the look, everything on this child's face was a carbon copy of Lucy Coe. "They just don't get the important stuff in life."
Serena grinned and skipped forward, V trailing slightly behind her. Out of habit, she scanned the hospital corridors and suddenly froze, her eyes locking on a familiar figure in the back corner of the lobby. "Serena," she called, more sharply than she'd intended, her eyes never leaving the figure. She finally tore her eyes away when the young girl came to stand, puzzled, in front of her. V looked down at Serena, tousling her hair gently. "You know what? I totally forgot something I've got to do; would you mind a whole lot if I let Rick walk you the rest of the way down to your Grandma's office?"
The young girl started to pout, then shrugged, her sunny disposition overcoming the momentary disappointment. "'Kay. If you promise that you'll pick me up so you can meet Grandma Gail."
"I wouldn't miss it for anything, kiddo," V promised, signaling to Serena's favorite 'goon', Rick. As he approached, V hugged her young charge briefly, and watched her recede down the corridor before approaching the man in the corner. She walked over quietly behind him, not speaking until her mouth was almost level with his ear. "You big, Australian idiot," V murmured as Jerry spun around with a muffled oath. She crossed her arms across her chest staring at him. "What are you doing here, Jerry?"
"V!" He exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. "I could ask you the same! Last I heard, you were off sailing the world with..." Jerry's voice trailed off, and his gaze suddenly sharpened in alarm.
"Simon Prentiss," V finished for him. "What's wrong?" she asked sweetly. "Did you suddenly remember something? Something you kind of forgot to mention to me, or your brother, or your parents before? Something like 'Hi my name is Jerry Jacks, and oh, by the way, Mom, Dad, Jax, I work for the WSB.'"
Jerry groaned, and reached out dragging V even further into the corner of the deserted waiting area. "He told; you," Jerry stated, not bothering to make it a question. "Damn Prentiss and his big mouth."
V glared. "Blaming Simon is not going to get you off the hook, Jerry. Do you know how worried your brother and your parents have been about you? And, I'm not just talking about now, I'm talking about your whole life. I've talked with Lady Jane; I know, Jerry. I know how many times you've disappeared in and out of your family's life, how many hot-spots you've gone to in the name of fun and games, scaring them half to death." She half-stamped her foot. "When Simon told me about the 'lark' the two of you pulled off in Taiwan, and exactly why and how he'd met you, I almost told Lady Jane myself. I didn't," she forestalled his protest, "but, Jerry, you should. You should tell them."
"And, do what, V? Get them killed?" Jerry's voice was low, but intense. "Make them targets? Do you have any idea how many powerful people I've pissed off in this world?" He grinned, suddenly, at her expression. "Don't answer that. V, look, my parents and my brother are safer thinking of me as the family screw-up. So would you be, if bloody Simon hadn't opened his fat mouth." He watched V's face soften slightly, and he took a breath. "Speaking of the big-mouthed bastard, aren't you two supposed to be sailing around the Mediterranean or something?"
"We did; it was lovely; now I'm back," V said briefly, not yet willing to let him off the hook, despite his puppy dog eyes; she had had what amounted to a master class in dealing with the Jacks charm. "Better question -- what are you doing here? This is one of the apparently many places where there's a warrant for your arrest."
"Not anymore," he shook his head. "Side perk of working for my bosses. And, I have unfinished business here. Or at least," Jerry's face darkened, thinking of the phone call he'd received earlier, "I thought I did."
It was a sickness, V told herself as she reached out for Jerry's arm, moved by something in his voice. Either that or some kind of pheromone the Jacks put out, compelling her to need to reach out to them. She sighed, mentally slapping herself even as the words came out of her mouth. "Do you need some help, Jerry? A place to stay, someone to talk to?"
Jerry smiled again, his dimple deepening briefly. "Thanks love; both of those are covered." He paused, pulling an envelope out of his pocket, weighed it briefly in his hand, then looked at V. "There is -- one thing you could do for me. I was going to talk to Bobbie in person, but I don't know if that's such a good idea. I wrote her this letter..." he trailed off.
"And you want me to deliver it," V finished for him. She lifted her eyes to his, and almost caught her breath. There was something there she'd never seen before, not with him. Something older and sadder, something close to broken. "Jerry?" she started to ask, and he blinked and it was gone. V fished in her pocket for a moment, pulling out a scrap of paper and a bowling pencil. She scratched two numbers out, and handed the paper to Jerry, taking the letter. "The top one's my number; for Jax's sake, and for your mother's, if you need anything, call. The second one," she fixed him with a look, "is Jax's number. He's traveling with Chloe, but you can always reach him here. He misses you, Jerry; call your brother."
Jerry gave a mock salute with his fingers, his grin deepening on his lips, but never quite reaching his eyes. "Yes, ma'am." He bent his head suddenly, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek. "Thanks for taking care of my baby brother, V Ardanowski. You're a better friend to the Jacks' than we deserve." He lifted his head, squeezed her hand once, and started to move away from her. "Glad I ran into you, V; we'll have to do it again, sometime," Jerry called over his shoulder, before disappearing, quicker than V had thought possible, down the hallway.
GH room
"So, the baby's fine?" Carly asked, struggling to a sitting position in her hospital bed, as she looked up at Dr. Newman, gripping Sonny's hand tightly. "Then why did this happen; why was I cramping?"
Dr. Newman sighed. "Carly, this pregnancy comes pretty close on the heels of a bad miscarriage. Your body was not fully recovered from that trauma when you got pregnant again. Your blood work shows slight anemia, your blood pressure's higher than I'd like, and you're too thin. This is not going to be an easy pregnancy," she said bluntly. "I'm going to recommend bed-rest, and a total lack of stress for the remainder of this pregnancy." She saw Carly's face set stubbornly, and she bent down to the younger woman. "If you don't get yourself back in fighting trim, this will happen again. And, next time, the baby will not be okay; we may not be able to stop the false labor."
"Look," Sonny interjected, glaring across Carly's hospital bed, "the last thing Carly needs to hear is that this is her fault."
"And that is the last thing I'm saying, Mr. Corinthos," Nancy Newman lifted her formidable eyebrow in his direction. "What I'm saying is that in order for little baby Morgan here to be healthy and happy, his mother needs to be the same." She paused. "I would really feel more comfortable having this discussion with Carly and the baby's father."
Carly spoke up, turning to Sonny. "Did you call Jason?" she asked, her eyes opaque.
He was silent a long moment, hearing the refrain that had been echoing in his mind all the while he'd waited in the lobby. Sixteen weeks. Almost four months. "Yeah," Sonny said, finally, slowly. "I called the warehouse; he was in a meeting, they didn't know where. Benny's tracking him down. Jason'll be here soon."
"Good," Carly said, turning on her side with a slight grimace, releasing Sonny's hand. She yawned, and looked up at Dr. Newman. "I can't keep my eyes open; is that -- okay?"
Nancy Newman nodded. "We gave you a mild sedative; it should be kicking in about now. Rest, relaxation, a total absence of stress," she looked sharply at Sonny, picking up on the decidedly -- odd vibe between him and her patient, "that's what you and this baby need most."
"I can handle that," Carly murmured, her eyes closed. "I'm good at sleeping, right Sonny?"
Sonny let out something that was half-way between a snort and a laugh. "If it were an Olympic sport, sweetheart, you'd have the gold medal, no doubt." He stroked her hair lightly for a moment, then looked up at Dr. Newman. "I'll sit with her 'til her husband gets here." He waited Dr. Newman's disapproving grimace out, pulling up a chair and sitting by Carly's bedside when she left. "Car-o-line," he started, then stopped. Sonny leaned down, until his head was resting beside her pillow, his eyes only inches from her closed ones. "Are you carrying my child, Caroline?" he whispered, the words rough and driven from the very bottom of his soul.
There was no answer; Carly's breathing remained regular and even, and her eyes remained closed lightly. Sonny sighed deeply, but didn't move his head from her pillow. He reached out with a tentative hand, gently laying it on her belly. "I don't even -- I don't even know what I want, Carly. I know what's right, what I should want." He twisted a strand of her hair between two fingers, tucking it gently behind her ear. "That this baby be yours and Jason's, that you finally have a child made from love, made from choice. That's what I should want." Sonny released her hair, propping his chin up on his hand, his other hand still splayed against her child. "But, I'm a selfish bastard; you know that. Probably better than anyone breathing, you know that. And, if this child is mine, ours--" he broke off, his hand tightening convulsively on the bedsheet. Sonny's head lowered slowly, resting against her stomach, his eyes closing tightly.
This street holds its secrets like a cobra holds its kill
This street minds its business like a jailer minds his jail
That house there is haunted
That door's a portal to hell
This street holds its secrets very well
He thought he felt her hand against his forehead, brushing his hair back tenderly, and Sonny lifted his head. As he looked up, his eyes locked on Jason's blue eyes, staring at him through the glass of the window. Slowly, his eyes locked on the face of the only man on this earth he called 'brother', Sonny stood up as Jason walked in the door and stopped. The two men didn't move, didn't breathe for what could have been a thousand years, a milli-second. The only thing filling the air, other than betrayal, broken dreams, and a vast wasteland of actions and words and ghosts that could never be taken back, was the even sound of Carly's breathing and the slight beeping of the fetal monitor, as Sonny walked out of Carly's room, past Jason, and out the door.
; That man wears his skin like a dancer wears her veils
That man stalks his victims like a cancer stalks a cell
That man's soul has left him his heart's as deadly as a rusty nail
That man sheds his skin like a veil
Jerry found himself breathless as he burst into the GH parking garage; why had he been running down the stairs, running away from little V Ardanowski? He ran his fingers roughly through his hair; he knew why. He knew. She had brought up his family, pressed every single button he had when it came to them. She had done it with love and the best of intentions, he knew that, but still, "Damn her," Jerry growled. He looked down at the scrap of paper clenched tightly in his fist, staring at it a long moment.
Ponderously, deliberately, he tore it in half, then in half again and then once more. Letting the scraps flutter out of his hand and to the ground, Jerry walked slowly to his car, slipped in, gunned the engine, and never looked back. His choices were made.
Lord, you play a hard game, you know we follow every rule
Then you take the one thing we thought we'd never lose
All I ask is if she's with you please keep her warm and safe
and if it's in your power please purge the memory of this place
V leaned back against the wall of the lobby, her brain spinning in a thousand different directions. She had come back to this town to help a friend, to find what was left of the life and the world she'd left behind. And, what she'd found was a landmine of wounded men, who's pain and hearts and souls touched her, will she or not. She sighed, deeply and with gusto, and pulled out her cell phone reluctantly. She dialed a long series of numbers, then paused and dialed several more. Biting her lip, V waited a long moment. "Hey, you," she said, warmly to the voice on the other end. "Well, I didn't expect to be calling you, either....no, no I'm fine. But, I need your help. Can you -- is there any way you can come to Port Charles?"
That man wears his skin like a dancer wears her veils
That man stalks his victims like a cancer stalks a cell
That man's soul has left him his heart's as deadly as a rusty nail
That man sheds his skin like a veil
*Song Credit: "This Street, That Man, This Life" -- Cowboy Junkies
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