Chapter Two: Help Me
*Note* Slight change in history; Alexis never represented Frank in the custody debate over Christina.*
Courtland Avenue clinic
Jerry waited, semi-patiently, for the nurse to finish taking Carly's blood pressure. She stood up, unhooking the cuff from Carly's arm and started to leave, only to find her way blocked by Jerry's arm. She sighed and shook her head. "Sir," the trim woman said, in a tone that said she'd done this many, many times before, "I've already told you, you'll have to wait for the doctor to tell you about your friend. We've given her a mild sedative, and she's not in any immediate danger. That's all I can tell you." She looked up at him patiently, inclining her head in thanks as Jerry removed his arm reluctantly, then slipped out of the curtain surrounding Carly's bed.
He looked down at the sleeping woman, his eyes infinitely gentle, then drew a stool up to her beside, taking her hand in both of his. "This wasn't exactly the reaction I'd planned on you having when I showed up, you know," Jerry said, his voice softly conversational. "I figured you'd maybe deck me one, but fainting never seemed quite your style, my girl. My girl," he repeated softly, loosing one of his hands to brush her hair back from her forehead softly.
Jerry ran his hand over his daughter's hair, finding new similarities every moment he studied her face. "It was Florida that threw me off, luv, took me so long to find you. See, I'd always thought your mum grew up in Port Charles; she talked about her childhood here, and so I just assumed--" He broke off, shaking his head. "And, I never would have connected the woman Bobbie became with the girl she was; she was so young, then. We both were," he said softly. "She didn't go by the name Bobbie, not when she was -- doing what she was doing. And, I was hardly a regular, just an occasional client, a playboy slumming it," Jerry's voice became bitter, as he spoke of the boy he'd been. "I never knew she was pregnant, Carly, I swear it. No matter how young I was, how much of a fool, if I'd known, I would have done anything in this world for your mother and you, anything," he said fiercely. "I swear it," he repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper.
He was silent a long moment, struggling with emotions, then resumed his narrative. "And, so that's why it's taken me so long to find you, Carly. They told me five years ago that I had a daughter, and who your mother was, and that was all. It was their way of keeping me where they wanted me; they knew where you were, and who you were, and every damn thing I did, I did with that in the back of my mind," Jerry's mouth twisted, caustically. "One wrong move, and it was on your head that the pieces would fall. And, I didn't even know who you were. I should have. From the moment I met you, little girl, I should have known you were mine." Jerry dropped his head to the pillow beside Carly's, closing his eyes, as his hands tightened around hers.
The doctor cleared her throat as she stepped through the curtains, giving Jerry a moment. She walked over and lay a hand on Jerry's shoulder. "She's going to be fine," she said softly, looking at him compassionately, then glanced down at the chart in her hand. "Caroline is going to be just fine, nothing to worry about. She's just exhausted; my guess, by looking at these counts, is that she's bone weary, mentally and physically. She's slightly underweight, and her blood pressure is a little more elevated than I'd like. And, considering her condition, that is certainly something that bears monitoring."
Jerry held out a hand, stopping her. "Her condition?" he asked sharply. "I thought you said that Carly was fine. What is this about a 'condition'?"
The doctor looked at him, a slight crease on her forehead. "I'm sorry; I assumed that you--" She shook her head, briskly. "I was informed that you were her next-of-kin," she glanced at Carly's hand and her wedding band. "You didn't know she's pregnant; you're -- not her husband?"
"I'm her husband." Both the doctor and Jerry turned around to face the impassive stare of Jason Morgan. He spared them only a quick glance before turning the full power of his gaze on Carly; it was easy for people to think of Jason as a cold man. But, no one seeing his eyes as he gazed at her pale frame or hearing his voice when he turned back to the doctor to ask a single question would ever have called him cold again. "My wife is pregnant?" he asked, quietly.
She nodded affirmatively. "Three months along. The baby's fine," she added, with a quick smile, anticipating his next question, and wanting to reassure him quickly; something in his eyes made her think it was better to give this man good news than to make him wait. "And, your wife will be too; she just needs a lot of rest and a couple of good, square meals. We have her on sedatives now. It's a quick way to insure that she gets some rest, especially if she's having trouble sleeping." She paused for a moment, still confused. "If you're her husband, then who is--" she turned towards where Jerry had been, only to see an empty stool and a gap in the curtains.
Jason followed her gaze; unlike her, he had noted the moment when Jerry had loosed Carly's hand and slipped away; it had been after she had told him that both Carly and the baby, the baby, were going to be fine. "Trouble," he said flatly, answering her question, as he slipped onto the stool Jerry had vacated, brushing Carly's hair back from her forehead with his fingertips. After a moment longer, the doctor left, sensing that she wasn't wanted -- or even noticed, anymore. No, the blond man had eyes only for his wife.
Jason touched Carly's face lightly with his fingertips, splaying one hand gently across her stomach. After a moment, he let out a long breath that was almost an explosion, his eyes squeezing tightly shut. Despite what he'd told the doctor, Jerry Jacks, at the moment, was the least of his problems; he didn't even register on the Worry Jason Scale. Three months, she had said, and it echoed over and over again in his head; Carly was three months along. Which meant there was no way in hell this baby was his.
PC airport
Port Charles. Sonny sat back in his seat as his pilot informed him that they were descending into Port Charles. He couldn't pinpoint when this town had become the closest thing he had to a home. When the first person he'd loved had died here? The second? Was it home because he knew the name of all the ghosts who lived there? Sonny tensed as the plane began to descend, unconsciously gripping the arms of his seat.
The woman sitting beside him, who was not unaccustomed with losses of her own, glanced over at him, studying his face. She placed a cool hand on his arm, squeezing lightly. After a moment, Sonny covered it with his own, gratefully.
"Mr. Corinthos, we're cleared; you and your guest may depart the plane when ready," came the voice of his pilot not long after.
Sonny remained still a long moment, then turned to the woman beside him. She met his gaze long and levelly, and he squeezed her hand lightly. "Now or never," he murmured, let out a long breath, released her hand and stood, walking to the entrance of the plane. He looked out the window, seeing Luke waiting for him, dark glasses covering his eyes, hiding his expression. Without waiting to see if the woman followed him, Sonny pushed open the door and walked down the small ramp, over to Luke. Luke pushed back the glasses from his eyes, and Sonny winced, as the expression in them became clear -- pure, unadulterated fury. It was a moment after that, with no warning at all, that he felt Luke's fist connect with his chin.
"That, friend," Luke bit out the word, facing Sonny as the other man shook his head, dazedly, trying to make one, or preferably both, of the two Luke's he was seeing go away, "was for Caroline."
"This why you called me back, Luke?" Sonny spoke with difficulty, working his jaw back and forth. "To hit me a coupla times? Go ahead," he spread his arms wide. "It makes you feel better; I'm not gonna stop you."
Luke shook his own head, a disgusted expression on his face. "Cut the crap, Corinthos. You never did selfless real well; I ain't buyin'. 'Sides, we don't have time for it; we gotta get--" He broke off as the longest pair of legs he'd ever seen started to descend from the plane. Luke turned back to Sonny. "Bring back a souvenir?" he asked him, lifting an eyebrow.
The honeyed blonde walked over to Luke and Sonny, smiling sweetly at Luke. She extended her hand towards him, drawing it back at the last moment and punching him squarely on the jaw. Turning to Sonny, she asked in her most innocent voice, playing up her slight hint of a Southern accent. "Did I get it right, Sonny? Is that how you all say hello here in Port Charles?"
Sonny grinned, last thing he'd expected to be doing right about now, and slid his arm briefly around her waist. "Luke Spencer, meet Blair Daimler. The lady's no souvenir, Luke, but she is a friend. And, she deserves your respect," he said, his tone neutral but firm.
It was Luke's turn to work his jaw as he looked Blair up and down, appreciatively and extremely warily. "Hey," he said, raising his hands and taking a step back, "I ain't gonna argue, 'specially not with her." He shook his head, still in shock, and looked at Blair. "Where'd you learn that move, darlin'? I'm impressed."
Blair smiled, creamily. "A lady never tells her secrets," she answered. "So you're Luke Spencer, hmm? From what Sonny's told me about you, I expected someone -- younger."
Luke winced. "Okay, okay, sweetheart; I get it. You sure as hell don't pull punches, do you?" He met her flashing green eyes, and shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as her chin went up another notch. "I'll leave poor little Sonny alone, long as you stay away from me with that right hook. 'Course you ever decide you wanna learn another use for that right hand--" He broke off as he saw Blair's fingers clench, and took a step back. "Only kiddin', darlin'; only kidding."
Blair turned to Sonny, totally ignoring Luke. "I'm going to leave you boys to your business," she told him. "I have a feeling I'm not gonna want to know what it is, anyway, not if it involves him." She jerked her head over her shoulder, not bothering to look in Luke's direction. "Didn't you mention something about a penthouse?"
Sonny nodded and gestured at one of the men who'd followed them off his plane. "Francis'll drive you to the penthouse. You can unpack, call your daughter; I'll meet you there later. Thank you," he said, softly, under his breath. "For coming home with me."
"You were there for me when I needed you," Blair answered him, equally softly. "I'm just returning the favor, Sonny." She leaned forward, brushing her lips lightly against his, then turned to follow Francis. She didn't bother to break her stride as she called back over her shoulder. "By the way, Luke, I pulled the right hook. If I had really hit you, you wouldn't be eatin' for a week. Play nice, boys."
Luke watched her walk away, chuckling softly, absently caressing his jaw. His smile faded as the sway of Blair's hips recalled the reason he'd called Sonny home, and he turned to his former partner, former friend. "C'mon, Corinthos," Luke turned away, motioning Sonny to follow. "We got an appointment with a lady who could teach even that one a thing or two. And so help me, Sonny," Luke fixed his eyes on him, "you're gonna help her."
the Grille
Alexis' eyes narrowed as she studied Scott. "Whatever you want, Baldwin, it must be big," she said, warily. Alexis held up her fingers, ticking them off one by one. "You held the door of the restaurant, you pulled out my chair for me, you're being unusually quiet, and you haven't made an attempt to touch me once." She shook her head. "I'm starting to get more and more concerned."
Scott shrugged, smiling his most disarming grin at Alexis, the one that made Serena run to her room howling that she wasn't going to get up at six in the morning and go apple-picking with him, no matter how much he begged. Alexis returned his smile with an unmoved stare, about as convinced as Serena always seemed to be. He sighed, dropping the grin and looking at her. "Davis, I really, really need you here. This is -- I'm not kidding this time -- this is life or death. And, I'm not talking about my imminent demise, so don't go and get excited."
Alexis looked at him over her glasses, then reached into the briefcase at her side, silently taking out a legal pad and a pen. She looked back at Scott, finally having placed what had been nagging at her since he'd called her earlier today -- the note of desperation hiding behind all the Scott Baldwin mirrors and smoke. "Okay," Alexis said, matter-of-factly. "Tell me. From the beginning."
Scott opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head. "No. From the beginning'll take too long. And, time's the one thing I don't have. In a nutshell -- you know Lucy and I adopted a little girl several months ago?"
Alexis nodded, "Julie Devlin-Ramsey's daughter. I was following the case in the papers. The birth mother wanted custody, right?" Scott nodded, once, his motions brusque. "But, surely that ended when Julie Ramsey died, didn't it? I don't understand the problem; custody should have reverted to you without question."
"That's the problem, Alexis," Scott leaned back in his chair. "Custody reverted back to me, but not Lucy. You know how I used to, on a few rare cases, cut corners?" Alexis let out a small knowing groan, as Scott continued to speak. "When I began the adoption process for Christina, it was -- easier to name myself as the only petitioner for custody. I was going to add Lucy on later, but then things got complicated, and--" Scott shook his head, making an abrupt motion with his hand. "Anyway, Christina is legally my daughter, but not Lucy's. Lucy and I haven't been able to get past that," he looked down at his untouched plate. "We broke up a few days ago. And, she moved out and I, um, said a few things I didn't mean, about Christina."
"Oh, Baldwin," Alexis gave him a look. "What did you say?"
Scott shook his head. "Doesn't matter. It was -- pretty bad, though. I kinda implied that I didn't have to let Lucy see Christina, since she wasn't her daughter." He leaned across the table, letting the front legs of his chair bang hard against the floor. "I didn't mean it; I just -- lost my temper. Lucy is Christina's mother; there's no way on this earth I would keep her away from her daughter. But, see, I did it once before, with our other daughter, Serena, when she was born. I took her away and kept her away from Lucy for years, and I know that Lucy's thinkin' about that, otherwise she never would have--" He broke off again, scowling at Alexis across the table.
Alexis looked at him with a sinking feeling in her stomach; she knew where this one was going. "Never would have what, Scott?" she asked.
"Never would have taken Christina and disappeared," Scott said, his words coming out in an anguished rush. "Help me, 'Lex. Help me find my wife and daughter and bring them home."
