She lay quietly in his arms, absently twirling a curl of his thick chest hair between her fingers. They had been the words she had most wanted to hear. They had been the words she had most feared. ‘I’ll stay.’

“You okay?” he asked. Propped against the headboard, he seemed completely at ease.

“What will Stefano do?”

John shrugged. “He won’t be happy, but we’ll work it out. Before we leave here, it will be settled. Don’t worry about it.”

Marlena could not believe it would be that simple. She could not believe that Stefano would letit be that simple. “John, I think we should leave now. Call Bo. Tell him everything we know. Let the law handle this. You don’t have to do this anymore. Let’s just go home,” she said, sitting up.

“You don’t honestly think I am going to allow any of those men to live, do you? While they live, they represent a threat to you. I will not accept that risk, Marlena. We don’t leave until they are all dead.”

He brushed his fingers down her jawline, his smile sad. “Marlena, I will always watch over you. I can’t help that. And if you think I will ever tolerate a threat to you, you are wrong. None of that is negotiable. But it is up to you whether you want me in your life, your home. If you don’t want me, I would understand it.”

She knew he meant it, knew she couldn’t stop him from killing the men behind the bombing. It scared her. He scared her. He was not the same and he never could be the scars simply ran too deep. She also knew that in the end, none of that mattered. “I want you.”

“Then I will stay.”

He paced the room, stalling. He didn’t want to go down and face the kids and he sure as hell didn’t want to face Dimera. Marlena had gone back to her room to shower and change and he was taking the coward’s way out, trying to wait until he was certain she would beat him down to the table. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he cringed at the thought of what the kids must be thinking. Unable to control his impatience any longer, he stalked to the door.

He walked onto the porch, unsurprised to see only the three children sitting there.

“Hi Dad,” Sami called, an innocent grin on her face. “You look hungry.”

He felt his face flush, kept his eyes fastened on the table. Sitting stiffly down, he tried to find the right words to explain why their mother had been gone all night.

“Um… really sorry about waking you,” Eric said, not quite disguising his smile. “I was just… worried when Mom didn’t come back. I didn’t totally trust what Stefano had said.”

“Don’t worry. You didn’t interrupt anything. Nothing happened,” John said pointedly.

“Of course not,” Sami replied, eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Not that there would be anything wrong if something had happened. Theoretically speaking, of course,” Carrie chimed in.

“Theoretically speaking, I would have to agree with you,” Eric nodded.

“Nothing happened!” John said, blushing furiously.

“Of course not,” three innocent voices parroted back in sync.

“Dammit, we did not sleep together!”

“Really, John! Do you think that is an appropriate conversation for the children?” Marlena chided as she breezed through the French doors.

He started to retort, but the sight of her took his breath away. She was wearing a simple silk dress that flowed over her curves, the dark velvety brown color highlighting the hazel of her eyes.

All of the curves were in exactly the right places and he couldn’t believe he’d been in bed with her and ever let her escape.

“What is it?” she asked curiously, catching his stare.

Breaking the contact, he looked away. “Oh, nothing. You just look really nice, that’s all.”

As she settled into the chair next to him, he rubbed ruefully at the stubble on his chin. Dressed in fraying jeans and a stretched out old sweater, he felt like a peasant in the presence of his queen. He tried to focus on the eggs and bacon in front of him, but the food lay like sawdust in his mouth. All he was aware of was Marlena, sitting at his side and Dimera, conspicuous in his absence.

John felt a pressing need to get it over with, to deal with Stefano here and now. Standing abruptly, he gave a quick nod to the kids. “Have some business that really needs taking care of. We’ll get together tonight, watch movies or something.”

At their distracted nods of agreement, he turned to go up to Dimera’s study. Having easily read his intentions, Marlena reached out and grabbed his hand. “Be careful please.”

“I will be. I promise.”

The three children stared in stunned silence as John walked from the room.

“Mom! What did happen last night?” Carrie asked.

“Okay, dish Mom,” Sami said less tactfully, leaning eagerly forward in her chair.

Marlena cocked an eyebrow at her youngest daughter. “May I just say, I pity the poor boy you set your sights on.”

“Mom, come on,” Carrie prodded. “We want to know what’s going on. You and John is he going to come home?”

All three looked at her expectantly and she was uncertain what to tell them. “He’s going to try. When this is done, when the threat of the Brotherhood is over, he’s going to come home. He told me he would,” she said, trying to convince herself it was the truth. John would come home, he had promised he would. She only wondered if Dimera would let him.

John tapped on the study door, knowing that the man was waiting for him within. After a second’s hesitation, he heard the deep voice call out, “Come in.”

John stood in the doorway, not knowing what to say. “We missed you at breakfast,” he began at random.

“I’m sure,” Stefano commented dryly, sitting straighter in his chair.

John pulled the door firmly shut behind him and moved to one of the armchairs set in front of the desk. Dimera silently watched him, his face expressionless. Sitting on the edge of the cushioned seat, he looked up at Dimera and felt like a schoolboy about to be lectured and realized instantly that it was the effect the arrangement was meant to have. It was too much for his already frayed nerves and he lurched to his feet. Backing away from Dimera, giving himself some space to breathe, he rested a lean hip against the couch.

“So?” Dimera said coldly. Expectantly.

For a moment, John studied him the man who had raised him for half his life, the closest thing he had to a father. He owed him an honest answer.

“She asked me to go back with her when she goes home. When we are done with this mess.” Looking firmly at Dimera, he added, “I said yes.... I meant it.”

“Ah,” Dimera nodded, his face revealing nothing. “What about that promise you made. Your vow never to put the children at risk?”

Unwilling to debate the issue, John shrugged. “I lied. You should be familiar with the concept.”

“Of course,” Stefano replied, his annoyance barely held in check. “So… May I assume you are here to ask for my permission?”

“No, Stefano. I’m not asking I’m telling. I will go home to her, to my children. If you’re going to have a problem with that, we should settle it now.”

“John, please tell me you have not been reduced to making threats? If you are going to do something, be a man and do it!” Dimera snapped, feeling angry, feeling betrayed.





John let out a snort and stood up. “Give me a little more credit. I owe you more than that and I know it.” Reaching behind him, John pulled his gun from its holster where it had been hidden by the loose sweater. Chambering a round, he set the weapon down on the glossy wood in front of Dimera and stepped back from the desk.

“Sir, I am going with her. She has my first loyalty. Stefano, if I ever think you pose a threat to her… I am not Roman Brady. I would find you and I would come for you and I don’t ever want to have to come for you.” John laughed bitterly. “I have enough of an Oedipus complex as it is.”

Nodding down at the gun, John continued. “I am giving you this chance, Stefano. This one time, I’m putting you ahead of her. If you want to stop me, you can. You can pick up that gun and end this now. If you want to force her to stay her, if you want to keep me from her, you had better use the gun right now it will save us all a lot of grief in the long run.” He stood, eyes unwavering, waiting for Dimera’s decision.

Almost casually, Stefano lifted the gun. Admired the cold, deadly lines. The piece was as much a work of art as it was a tool of destruction and the cool wood of the grip balanced perfectly in his hand. He glanced up at John, standing stiffly before him. “You’re sure of this?”

“I’m sure.”

His decision made, Dimera strode rapidly to John’s side. Raising the weapon, he jammed the barrel against the side of his dark head. Pressing hard, he forced the man’s head back.

Closing his eyes, John waited for the impact of the slug, the release of oblivion. At least his death would mark the last time he would fail her.

“Why? Why did you agree to go back to her, John?”

He took a shuddering breath, wishing Stefano would just get it over with. Eyes still closed, he let the air ease back out of his lungs. “It hurt her more for me to say no.”

The moment stretched, seconds ticking by like hours. Abruptly the hard metal pressing against his head was replaced by one of Dimera’s thick hands. Grabbing his hair, the old man shook him roughly. “You have been nothing but trouble since the day you came to me,” a harsh voice grated in his ear.

Ruffling the thick hair, Stefano released him and turned away. “If you two have a child, it had damn well better be named after me,” he said gruffly.





John stood stunned, almost failing to recognize his reprieve. The relief that washed over him threatened to drop him to his knees. Managing a weak grin, he asked, “What if it’s a girl?”

“Stephanie is an acceptable alternative,” Dimera replied, letting a bitter smile crease his lips as he leaned back against the desk.

“I’ll get right on it,” John promised, once again propping himself against the couch, not wanting to leave quite yet.

“You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Not particularly,” was the honest reply as Stefano poured himself a tall drink. “But I am not an idiot and this was not a complete surprise.” Settling back on the couch, he motioned John to the chair opposite him.

“Mm. Is that why I’m still breathing?” John asked softly, quirking an eyebrow.

“I do not kill my own children, John. That is why you are still alive. At the moment, it is the only reason,” Stefano replied, his face grim.

John couldn’t help the flush of pride at the old man’s words any more than he could resist the shame he felt at the response. He had placed Marlena’s chance at happiness, perhaps her very freedom, in the hands of a man capable of so much evil. The fact that he had been right granted him no absolution. With a sigh, he propped his head in his hands and rubbed at his temples, wondering just when the hell it was his life had become so complicated. When he was younger, if he couldn’t shoot it, fuck it or drink it, he generally hadn’t bothered with it. Now all he did was juggle betrayals and lies and broken vows. He simply wanted it all to be over with.

All he asked was the chance to build a life with the woman he loved. Yet every time he thought of her, every time he watched her move through a room, the joy she brought him was tempered by the fear, the tight knot of worry that twisted in his breast, signaling him that it was not meant to be. It was never meant to be for him, in his heart, he knew that. His desire for her would burn her out, burn her through. If he wasn’t very careful, he would leave nothing of her but a shattered shell.

“Have you thought about the consequences?” Dimera asked, jarring John from his bleak reverie.

John gave a shrug, trying to shake off the dark thoughts. “I haven’t thought of anything else. Not since you brought me back. It’s wrong, Stefano. I know it’s wrong. I’m going to do it anyway. Even if I can’t be what she wants, can’t give her what she needs, I’m willing to die trying.”

Dimera merely rolled his eyes and took a deep swallow from his glass. “Have I mentioned your penchant for melodrama?”

John gave him a wry grin and tried to be optimistic. “Maybe once or twice. But you’re right. If everything is okay between you and me, if we can wrapup this little problem with the Brotherhood.... Well, I’m stronger than I used to be. Maybe I can make this work.”

They sat together, content in the silence. Finally, Dimera broached the subject uppermost in his mind. “So I guess you will be leaving my little family?” His voice was deceptively calm.

“Huh? You must be joking. If I am going to protect her, it will be from a position of strength. I need you behind me.... Unless you’re asking me to leave?” Trying to control the hurt, the fear that he would not be strong enough on his own, he kept his voice carefully neutral.

Stefano quirked an eyebrow. “No, I’m not asking you to leave. I want you at my back. You should know that. But Marlena isn’t going to like it.”

“She doesn’t have to,” John answered coldly. “I will not allow her to be hurt through my own weakness, Stefano. I will do whatever I think necessary to see that nothing and no one ever hurts her or the children again.”

With a nod of understanding, Stefano raised his glass in mock salute. Recognizing the sense of relief that coursed through him, surprised by its intensity, Dimera dropped his eyes to study the amber depths of the whiskey. Each man lost in his own thoughts, the silence once more descended.

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