Angry shouts echoed off of cold stone walls, as Mikos Alamain raged at the man on the other end of the telephone line. “I told you this entire business was foolhardy to begin with. I have given you resources, access to information, every possible assistance. I wanted only one thing from you. I wanted John Black.”

“Mr. Alamain,” the voice on the line placated. “That was not possible. The lead operative would never have accepted that assignment. If John had been locked away, we could have controlled the situation. Eventually, he could have been lost in a transfer. It was simply too risky for us to stage a kidnaping directly.”

“I did not want him lockedup in some prison. I did not want him in your control. The only place I want John Black is here, under my control. Mine, “ he said with emphasis. “Now you tell me you could not even succeed in your misguided attempt to frame him. The man is not a fool. All you have managed to do is put him on his guard. I am holding you to your end of the deal. I want the man delivered to me. If not, that little secret empire you’re building is going to crumble before your eyes.” Cutting off any reply, Mikos slammed the phone into its cradle.

He stalked to his desk and snatched the photograph from the top of the file. Vivian had pretended not to recognize him she must take him for a fool. John Black was so like his father that it was eery. To know that this was the same face he hunted…

When he had first learned his brother lived, it had been a relief. To kill your own brother, your own blood… It should give one pause. But the relief hadn’t lasted. What if his brother knew? What if he knew that he was the rightful heir? Mikos would not give it up. He had been born to reign and he would not sacrifice that, not even for a brother. And so the hunt had begun.

At first, he had not known what he would do if he found his brother. Or at least, he had lied to himself that he didn’t. But long ago fear had turned to anger, and now… He would kill rather than allow any man to threaten his empire. Even his brother.

He stared into the photo and the eyes seemed to stare back. Mikos recognized those eyes, they were his ‘father’s’ Illya Mikovitch Alamain. Mikos could picture how those eyes would darken in anger, how they’d shine the blueblack of midnight. Some day soon, he would look into those eyes as his brother knelt and pledged his fealty. And if those eyes offended, then he would pluck them out.

John paced the length of the study for the fifth time before Stefano’s patience snapped. “John, you won the case! You kicked a policeman in the head in front of a dozen other officers and they didn’t even convict you of assault. Will you please stop trying to wear a hole in that very expensive rug and tell me what the problem is?”

John pulled up, looking at Dimera as if noticing him for the first time. “Sorry, Stefano. I was just thinking.”





“Laudable try not to hurt yourself. Now, will you please tell me what it is you are thinking about that has you so agitated?”

John ran his hand through his hair and shrugged. “It’s Marlena. She was at the hearing.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised,” John noted, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, weren’t you?” Stefano replied smoothly. “Given the circumstances, I would not have expected a show of support. Weren’t you surprised by her presence?”

“Yea. I guess I was,” John muttered, his eyes darting away. “Look, I’ve got to get out of here. There’s something I have to take care of. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stefano leaned back in his seat, watching as John virtually sprinted from the room. A pleased grin spread across his face and he wondered just how much John had learned at his trial. Perhaps it would be best not to leave the man to his own devices. He rose from his chair, anticipation building. He knew exactly where he would find John Black and he knew the man wouldn’t be alone.

John pulled the truck he had borrowed from Dimera’s garage into the driveway of the house. Her house. God, he had thought that he would never have to see this place again. For him, it had ceased to be real, a vague fantasy that he tried hard to forget. It was real though and so was she, he couldn’t ignore her any longer.

He sat in the truck. Waiting. Watching. Feeling like death personified. Almost, he made himself turn the truck around. Drive away. Never see her again. Almost but not quite. Knowing it was wrong, knowing that nothing good could come of it, he slammed the truck door and walked to the house. She would be waiting for him. Some things were fated.

Marlena stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

His eyes hadn’t deceived him, the gentle swell of her stomach all the proof he required. A child. His child. Looking into her eyes, he had to force the words out. “I want to talk. May I please come in?”

For the tiniest fraction of a second she hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t want you in my home, John. You were right when you left. You aren’t a part of our lives anymore.”

The fact that he agreed with her served only to make him angry. “Oh, I think I am still a part of your life. A very big part,” he snapped, looking pointedly down at the evidence of her pregnancy.

Marlena’s eyes flashed fire and she slammed the door forward without bothering to comment. John jammed his foot in the doorway, grabbing her wrist. With one hard push, he forced his way in, shoving her toward the center of the room. “I have a right to know. Is the baby mine?”

She jerked away from him and he let her go. Already he felt guilty and standing in the home that had been theirs only served to make it worse. He fought the urge to follow as she turned away from him, as if being close to him was too painful to bear.

Looking down at the floor, she ran her hands across the firm swell of her stomach, considering her answer. “No,” she finally replied. “The baby is Roman’s.”





The anger sparked red hot. His hand shot out, spinning her roughly around. Those hazel eyes threw up a challenge, daring him to prove her wrong. He moved close, intent on doing just that. Backing her up, he cornered her against the wall, long arms blocking off any escape. “No more lies, Marlena. I’ve had enough deceit in my life. I will not let you lie to me about this,” he hissed

“This is our child, isn’t it? Isn’t it!” He slammed a hard fist into the wall beside her head, the plaster cracking beneath the blow. She shrank away from him, and for the first time he could see the fear. He had never wanted her to know fear, and now he was the one who brought it to her. His head dropped and he slowly stepped away. Unable to meet the eyes that stared back at him, he whispered a final plea. “Please… who is the father?”

In a voice so low he could barely hear, she breathed the answer he already knew. “You are, John. There hasn’t been anyone else.”

He had wanted it to be true. He shouldn’t have, but he had. Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he finally met her gaze. He couldn’t help the smile as he said, “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” she replied with a broken laugh.

He chuckled, his cheeks flushing. “No, I’m not.”

“Neither am I,” she said softly, her fingers resting protectively against her stomach.

John blinked, uncertain what she wanted of him, suddenly realizing he had no idea why he was here. “I’ll do whatever you want. About the baby… whatever you think is best...”

“Well, not being in prison is a good start. I was glad things turned out well for you. I didn’t want you locked up, John. No matter what you’ve done, I didn’t want that. You deserve better.”

“No, I don’t. Not after what I did to you,” he replied.

“Maybe not. I’m still glad you’re free,” she said with a shrug. Walking past him to the couch, she ignored the possessive way his eyes followed.

“Why did you do it? You never said. Why did you pretend to be Roman?” Marlena asked, not looking at him as she tried to find a comfortable spot on the couch.

“You already know this, Marlena. I believed I was Roman. When I was with you, I thought that was who I was. I didn’t lie on purpose.” He shifted restlessly on the balls of his feet jumpy, edgy. He hated that being near her made him this way. He hated being near her and not touching her. He licked dry lips and wondered what it was she wanted to hear.

“So when you married me when you told me you loved me it wasn’t a lie?” The question was casual, she looked almost disinterested as she studied her fingernails.

“You have to ask?” He snorted a laugh.

“Yes, I do,” she snapped, her tone hard and sharp and anything but disinterested.

He could feel the pain in her voice, one more thing to be ashamed of. Suppressing a groan, John knelt before her, too far away to touch her, too close not to want to.

“I loved you the first time I saw you. That’s all it took. I will never stop loving you, Marlena. That’s never even been an option.”

She blushed, her eyes darting away from him, and he knew that he was only making it harder for her. “At the hospital, huh? John, you didn’t even know me then.”

“I saw you before the hospital. I knew you. I knew everything about you. The first time I saw you was in a picture. Dimera showed me. It was my assignment I was to bring you to him. You were all alone, standing in a field of grass. You had wildflowers in your hair, a crooked smile on your lips. Your eyes… I’d never seen eyes like that. Love, acceptance peace. I could see it all everything I didn’t have. Everything I didn’t deserve. I loved you. I wanted you. From that first moment, I have never wanted anything so badly in my entire life.” The words poured out of him, the need to dispel the lies overwhelming. Her face paled, and he knew he had hurt her once again. He still didn’t regret the words.





“I should hate you, you know that?” she finally replied.

“Yea you should. Do you?”

“This is all very sweet,” a deep voice cut in from the doorway. “However I fear it is terribly misguided.”

“Stefano, get the hell out of here!” John snapped, spinning to his feet and stalking angrily toward the door. “This doesn’t concern you, old man.”

Kicking the door open the rest of the way, Dimera stepped calmly into the house, a confident smile lighting his face. “Oh, I think it does concern me, John. After all, Marlena carries my child, not yours.”

“Bullshit! You can’t be the father of Marlena’s baby, Stefano,” John stated flatly, stepping forward in an aggressive pose. “Like it or not, this baby is mine.”

Dimera simply shook his head. “No, John. There is no doubt. Would you like to know what I did the night that I knew for certain that Marlena would eventually be mine? You remember the night you blew Davies’ brains all over my dinner table, right in front of her? That night, I had Marlena artificially inseminated. The child she bears will be our firstborn.”

“You lying bastard.” He hissed out the words and closed the distance that separated him from the big man in the doorway. The palms of his hands itched and he wished he had brought his gun.

“No.”

The whispered word stopped John in his tracks as nothing else could have. He spun on his heels, Dimera forgotten as Marlena sank slowly to her knees, her face pale and her hand pressed tightly to her stomach.

“Doc, take it easy,” John said, at her side in an instance. As if afraid his touch would hurt her, he dropped to his knees and gingerly slid a hand behind her back.

“Marlena? Is it the baby?” Dimera was almost as fast as John, crouching before her, concern showing clearly on his face.

With a growl, John shoved him away. “Don’t you touch her! Not ever again without her permission. Do you understand me?!”

“Dammit, John, you know I would never hurt her but it is my child she is carrying, and I have a right to protect it. Stand down, John. I refuse to fight you over her,” Dimera replied, his anger rising at the challenge to his authority.

“You won’t have a choice if you come near her again. You are not the father and you will not endanger this child.” The words were cold, a statement not a request. Looking up at Dimera from his place by Marlena’s side, John felt a flicker of hatred he had never thought possible.





“John, no,” Marlena said, her voice so soft he had to struggle to hear. “It’s it’s true. Oh my God, it’s true.”

He could feel her trembling and his mouth went dry. He tightened his hold on her, dropping his head, his lips close to her ear. “It’s not true. He’s just mad, just trying to get to you. You need to calm down. For the baby, you need to calm down.”

Her skin was clammy, her face still white, but the shakes began to ease and he felt her relax just the slightest bit.

“That night… That night, he drugged me. I never remembered, never thought about it… It’s true, John. I know it is.”

Those Goddamned eyes burned a hole in his back, the old man too content in his victory to bother with words. John fought to keep the rage in check as he gently took Marlena’s hand in his own. He was going to make Dimera choke on this triumph, but at the moment, all he could do was mutter impotent words. “It’ll be okay, Marlena. I promise you, I will make it okay.”

Her smile was tentative, but it was still a smile. If it was meant to comfort him, it failed. “I’m just a little shocked. Just give me a minute, I’ll be… “ The words broke of with a gasp and she doubled over, clenching her stomach.

Wasting no more time on talk, John swept her up in his arms and ran out the door. As he fumbled with the passenger door of the truck, Stefano’s heavy hand clamped onto his shoulder. He spun angrily around, only to find Dimera backing away, his hands halfraised in a show of peace. “Use my limo, John. There is room to lay her down and the driver can worry about getting us there.”

“Stay the hell away from us, Stefano. I don’t need your help!”

“Forget your anger for a second and think of her, John,” Stefano spat back. “You know I’m right.”

After a second’s hesitation, he turned toward the limousine, not even glancing back at Dimera.

John anxiously paced the hospital corridor, ignoring Dimera who leaned casually against the wall. If he looked at him, he would give in to the need to hit him. If he hit the old bastard once, he would never stop. That wasn’t what she needed. Not now. Not yet.

“Dammit!” John exploded, running his fingers roughly through his hair. “When are they going to let us know something?!”

“John, calm yourself. Marlena was simply… surprised. She’s a strong woman. My child will be fine.”

John grimaced, his hands curling into fists. “You son of a bitch,” he hissed, knowing better than to turn and face Dimera. “You raped her. I should kill you for that. Here and now, I should kill you.”

Stefano wisely bit off further comment as Mike Horton approached them. “John? Marlena asked me to tell you that both she and the baby are fine. She wants to see you.” Ignoring Dimera, Mike grabbed John’s arm as he moved toward the private room. “John, she doesn’t need any more stress in her life right now. It wouldn’t be good for her or the baby. Do you understand me?”

“I won’t do anything to hurt her, Mike. I promise you that.” Brushing by Mike, John hurried down the hall, already searching for words that could make this all right for her. It was impossible to find words that didn’t exist, and he hesitated a long moment before knocking softly on the closed door. When there was no reply, he pushed slowly forward into the room.

Marlena lay in the narrow hospital bed, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She tried to stop shaking, tried to fight down the nausea that rose every time she thought about what had been done to her. The baby wasn’t John’s. It was Stefano’s. She was going to have Stefano’s child.

“Marlena? Are you okay?” he asked softly, squinting through the dimmed lights.

Startled, she looked up at him, managing a smile she didn’t feel. “Mike says I’m going to be just fine. It was… well, such a shock,” she replied. “I’m sorry. I just, I thought this baby was yours, John. It just didn’t occur to me there was another option.”

The tears leaked from her eyes, despite her efforts to hold them back. He was at her side in an instant, his big hand wiping them away. His touch was awkward, tentative and so gently it made her ache. Marlena gave a feeble imitation of a chuckle. “Of course, this does explain why her development has seemed so slow. She’s really three weeks younger than I had thought.”

“She?” John said, smiling faintly. “Are you sure it’s a baby girl?”

None of this was how she had imagined it and she turned away, buried her face in the pillow. Nodding mutely, she let the sobs well up.

“Oh, Doc,” he whispered, his fingers stroking her hair soothing, gentling, never letting the contact between them be broken. “You’re going to have a beautiful baby girl. That’s nothing to cry about.”

“I’m not crying about… I’m not sorry about that, John. It’s just, I wish she was yours. I wish that with all of my heart.”

He touched her as if she would break, but he never stopped touching her. Easing his arms around her, he drew her close, whispered his words in her ear. Tried to make her believe the lies. Tried to make himself believe. “It’s better this way, Doc. It would have hurt you, would have hurt the family, if the child was mine. Dimera won’t ever come near you. I swear to God, he will never even see the child. I’ll kill him if he tries. I promise you.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said with a broken laugh, her arms curling around his waist, holding onto him like he was the only real thing in her world. “It’s not better. It’s not what I wanted. This little girl should have been ours.”

“I didn’t have the right to be with you, Doc. I know that. I’m no better than Dimera. What I did to you… I’m no better. At least this way, I can protect you. I can protect your child. It is better, baby. I swear to you, it’s better.” He wanted to make it all right. He wanted to make her all right. What he made her was angry.

“It is not better!” She tried to pull away, her tears replaced by a dangerous glint. “I wanted her to be yours. I wanted to hold onto a piece of you. A part of the man you used to be, the man I loved. You owed me that much of you, John!”

“I owe you a lot more than that,” he replied, his hold around her tightening, refusing to let her go. She glared up at him, demanding things he couldn’t give her. Yet to deny her was impossible it had always been so. He bent down, touched her lips with his own. Stole one kiss, then made her give him another. He’d pay for this in eternity and it would be worth ever second he spent in hell.

His arms were strong, too strong to fight. Marlena didn’t want to fight him. She wanted this. This feeling safety, completion, peace. She kissed him back and was whole again for the first time since he had left. If only for a moment, she would forget everything but this feeling.





The tension, the sadness, slowly began to ease. She leaned back in his arms, words she couldn’t say demanding their release. The words were halfway out when the door slammed violently open. Roman stood frozen, his eyes wide as he took in the scene.

“So, I guess you told him?” Roman spat, murder in his eyes as he looked down on his wife in the arms of his enemy. “I hope you two are very happy together. Rape is such a lovely foundation for a family!”

“Roman!” Her protest went unheeded, the door swinging shut behind his retreating form.

“Damn...” John breathed the word out, slowly releasing her from his embrace. “I’m sorry, Doc. I didn’t mean… I’ll get him back. I’m sorry.”

She sat in silence as he strode quickly from her room. Only once she was certain the door had closed behind him did she allow herself to whisper the words.

“John, don’t go.”

John sprinted down the hallway, ignoring Dimera’s startled face as he sped by. The elevator doors slammed shut as he reached them and he didn’t wait around for the next one. Taking the stairs three at a time, he reached the lobby just as Brady walked past.

The only sound Roman made was a surprised grunt as John crashed into him. One quick blow and Roman was doubled over, gasping for breath.

John tried to enjoy the moment, but his distaste and his envy far outweighed the thrill of the violence. He flashed a manic grin at the elderly couple standing next to the elevator, watching the scene with confusion and fear.

“Don’t worry it’s just something he ate. You should probably avoid the meatloaf in the cafeteria,” he said as he propelled Roman’s stumbling body into the nearby cover of the hospital chapel.

“Let go of me,” Roman wheezed, jerking feebly against the hands around his shoulders.

“Fine with me.” John gave a rough shove and Roman collapsed against one of the pews that lined the darkened chapel. “You think I want to be here? You think I want to see your damn face? I don’t give two shits about you one way or another, Brady. But you hurt her. You insulted her. You’re so God damn stupid you’d turn your back and walk out on her! For some unknown reason, Marlena loves you. She wants you. Hell, she tried to tell me the baby was yours! You don’t deserve her, Roman, but if she wants you, then you are going to be there for her. The only way you will leave her is in a box. Am I making myself clear?”





“This isn’t any of your business, John.” Roman replied, finally managing to stand. “You have no right to that child. You have no right to Marlena! She was only with you because she thought you were me. You need to get the hell out of our lives!”

Brady looked like he wanted to start swinging and John dearly wished he would try it. An excuse, any excuse, that was all John asked. Squaring his shoulders, he smiled his most insulting grin, tried to buy himself that excuse. “She will always be my business, Roman. Always. You should be grateful. After all, I’m the only thing that’s going to be standing between Dimera and his child.”

Roman’s face paled, his head shaking back and forth. “You’re a liar. Marlena would never let him touch her. Never.”

“Since when does Dimera ask permission? If you turn away from her now, I swear I will make you hurt before you die.”

“I wouldn’t.... I love her. I would never do that,” Roman stammered, the implications weighing him down, making him ill.

“You just did, you lousy little bastard,” John spat, ignoring the footsteps that sounded behind him. Ignoring everything but the need to give Marlena what she wanted. That was what mattered. It was all that mattered.

“Gentlemen, please! This is a house of God.” The priest hurried up the carpeted isle, drawn by the angry words, the raised voices. Father Donovan could feel the tension, the hatred that flowed between the two men. Worried that violence was immanent, he reached out to pull John back.





The touch of the hand was all the trigger that John needed and he spun in his tracks, his fingers locking around the smaller man’s throat. Only the sight of the collar prevented him from snapping the fragile neck. With a conscious effort, he forced himself to loosen his grip. “God’s not home right now. Why don’t you come back when he is. This is private business, preacher.”

“John, stop it! John!”

Roman’s words penetrated the haze. With a frustrated grunt, John let go, the priest sagging away from him. Closing his eyes, he tried to clear the red fog from his mind, tried to find some focus for his hate. Some focus he could destroy. “You take care of her, Roman,” he finally grated out, refusing to face Brady. “You take care of her and leave Dimera to me.”

“Well, John? I’m waiting. How is she? Is the baby okay?” Dimera was irritated and it showed. He scowled at John as the younger man walked slowly toward him, seemingly in no hurry to give him the answers he needed.

“Congratulations,” John replied sarcastically. “You’re going to have a baby girl. She appears to be perfectly healthy, and as you already know, she is due in another four months. Enjoy this moment, Dimera, because this is as close as your ever going to get to playing the proud papa.”

“Don’t be foolish, John. You should know me better. I will claim my child. Roman Brady will not be much of an obstacle. In fact, I doubt he will even be with Marlena for much longer. My sources tell me he’s been sleeping in the guest room since his return, on the rare occasions he has been in Salem at all. Roman’s no threat to me, not anymore. You saw to that.”

“You’d be surprised at what I’ve seen to, Stefano. Roman will be staying with Marlena, you can count on it. And Roman isn’t the one you have to worry about. You go near Marlena, you go near her child, you will deal with me old man.”

The stunned look on the big man’s face was almost enough to make John laugh. It felt good to know there was someone else on the planet who was as pissed off as he was. The adrenalin surged, the giddy urge for violence rising. Cackling laughter sang through his mind, the dark gods calling to him. He reached out, his fingers trailing down Dimera’s thick neck, making a pretense of adjusting the man’s tie. Stefano’s face grew red, his own anger clear to see. John leaned forward, whispering his challenge. “If you want to finally establish which of us is the best, try going near her again. One of us will die, Stefano. I promise you. And we both know who the better soldier is.”

He was alone and that was as it should be. He hurt those around him. He tainted them, he tortured them and in the end, he killed them. He stood on the pier and looked out over the water, trying not to listen for the sound of her footsteps. She would come to him on the pier. She would always come to him here. He wanted her to come. He wanted the child to be his. He wanted to own them both, forever and ever, amen.

A bitter chuckle rumbled through his chest and he wiped at his face, surprised by the tears that streaked his cheeks. This was what he got for allowing himself to hope. He had known better, had known she wasn’t his. She had never been his, just one more stolen treasure he’d had no right to take. It was an insult to her to pretend otherwise.

He should be grateful it wasn’t his baby. His daughter. He didn’t need any children. Didn’t want any children. He would only fail them. Let them down when they needed him the most. He should be grateful....

“Kat?"

He whispers prayers he knows won’t be answered and walks on down the hall.

He should be grateful…

Damn. Where to go from here? It would be easiest just to leave. Get the hell out of this fucked up town, this fucked up situation. He had more than enough money to last a lifetime. Maybe he could go to some nice warm Carribean island and drink himself to death. The image forced a chuckle from him and the tension began to ease. He would make a terrible drunk. He would get bored in two days. If he wanted to off himself, he should just use a gun. Take the coward’s way out.

He snorted at the thought. Too many people wanted him dead, he’d be damned if he’d make it that easy for them. Turning from the pier, he headed for the Salem Inn. He would stay there. See what happened. Watch over the family until he knew they were safe. Safe from Dimera. Safe from himself. 

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