The birds sang in celebration of the dawn as the sun slowly climbed above the distant mountain peaks. John looked out over the fields, noting that the trees were starting to change color with the coming of fall. He gave a sigh that was almost content as he sipped at his coffee. Striking a match, he watched the flame dance for a moment before touching it to the paper of the first cigarette of the day. Losing himself in the act of creation, he drew the smoke deeply into his lungs and then set it free. The silver threads of smoke floated skyward, twisted about by a gentle wind.

He had always been content in this place. In the days of his youth, before he knew what happiness was, he had thought he was happy when he was here. The memories reinforcing old patterns, he almost rose to his feet as Dimera joined him on the big porch. Instead, he gave the man a reserved nod.

Stefano was struck by a feeling of nostalgia as he walked out into the cool morning air. Though he himself preferred the city, John had always loved this place. They had come here often and Dimera had learned to appreciate the gentle beauty of the mountains, the soothing nature of the woods. It all came back to him as he watched John, sitting with his feet kicked up on the wooden railing of the porch.

“You did a good job yesterday, getting Marlena and the children out of Salem. The Salem headlines are screaming recriminations at the police department. I do believe you have once again managed to shock people with your audacity,” he said.

“It wasn’t that difficult, and you know it. But, thanks anyway,” John replied, managing a small grin, trying hard not to shatter the last vestiges of the bond that existed between them. It was the only bond to another human being that he could allow to exist.

As Stefano eased a still sore body into the chair to await his breakfast, he nodded to John. “I assume Carrie made it in safely last night?”

“Yea, the plane was delayed by weather. I waited up and made sure Jensen got her squared away. She’s fine, if a little frightened. Of course, Jensen’s still not talking to me. I keep worrying he’s going to spit in my food or something.”

Stefano gave a genuine chuckle at that. “You should learn to show more respect to the help, John. The man really is too good to be abused.”

As the object of their discussion walked onto the porch, studiously ignoring John, Dimera changed the subject. “We should meet with Marlena once they have eaten. Jensen will be serving them in their rooms,” he said, nodding to the man setting his place. “After that, I want you to get her and bring her to the study. The sooner this matter is resolved, the better.”

John was hesitant to go near Marlena or her children, and it showed in his voice. “She thinks we are responsible for the bombing. She thinks I am responsible. She isn’t going to want to help us.”

Looking at John’s broad back, Dimera said, “If you would prefer, I could conduct the interview alone.”

“Don’t make me wish I had killed you,” John replied, turning to give Stefano a hard look. His voice was mild, but his eyes shot a warning.

Stefano gave a slight shrug and picked up his fork. “It was just a suggestion. And I could say the same to you.”

Turning back to study the mountains in the distance, John was silent for a moment. “Why haven’t you?”

Dimera looked up, startled by the question. “Why haven’t I what?”

“You have never allowed anyone to challenge you, Stefano. I should know I’ve killed many who have tried. Why am I still here?”

Dimera gave voice to a small sigh, addressing an issue he had been avoiding. “I hadn’t thought about it. I suppose I need you. You are the very best I have seen.” Focusing on his food, he continued in a voice so soft John almost failed to hear, “Besides, I do believe I would miss you.”

Almost choking on his coffee, John gave Stefano his full attention. A genuine smile split his face as he said sarcastically, “Oh yea, we have such good times together!”

Looking back at him, Dimera allowed an answering smile. “You are never boring, John. I appreciate that quality. It keeps me young.”

Uncomfortable with the mixed emotions their discussion was generating, John rose to his feet and slapped a hand to the hard muscles of his stomach. “Well, I’ve always said you would live forever. Now I now why. However, I do believe it is time for me to take a walk around the compound. Work off those pancakes I had for breakfast. Meet you in the study about 10:30?”

At Dimera’s brief nod, he turned and left the porch, intent on refamiliarizing himself with the area.

Stefano watched the man stride confidently away, looking like he owned the very earth on which he walked. John Black was one of a very few who could pose a threat to him and he had no one to blame for that but himself…

The recoil from the 20 gauge, even loaded with birdshot, knocks the boy back a step. “Shit!! I can’t do anything right!”

This time, Dimera allows himself a chuckle. “Better. Much better,” he says, his grin broadening as the boy’s face lights up at the compliment. Caughtup in the boy’s exuberance, Stefano tousles the dark head. “You’re a natural but don’t get cocky! Let’s see how you do with two birds...”

John walked down the hall, Marlena following stiffly a step behind him. She had refused to come at all until he had threatened to hold the meeting in the suite. Knowing she would want Dimera kept as far from her children as possible, he had hoped that the offer would make her comply. He had been right.

Marlena studied his broad back, trying to make sense of the emotions that tore at her. She hadn’t been able to form a clear thought since she had read his file, seen the evidence of his brutality, dating back to when he had been more a boy than a man. The reality of the words, the depth of her loss, warred with the feelings in her heart. John would never have hurt her child. Never… She silently pleaded for an explanation, for some hint that would allow her mind to believe what her heart told her. Instead, he stalked down the hallway, taking her to the one man on this earth that she hated most.





The muscles of his back clenched spasmodically, her eyes cutting through him as no knife could. He could feel her anger, sharp and brittle and as cold as ice. With dark humor, he recognized that he was grateful she was unarmed. At the moment, he had little doubt that she would put a bullet in his spine if he gave her half a chance. Resolving to stay as far from her as possible, he halted at the door to Dimera’s study. Holding the door for her, he politely motioned her inside. She walked by him as if he didn’t exist and he tried to control the ache that her proximity generated.

“Marlena. So nice of you to join us,” Stefano’s deep voice rang out from the far side of the room. “I’ve been worried about you. The miscarriage...”

“My child had nothing to do with you, Stefano. I won’t discuss her,” she grated, the ache inside her suddenly impossible to ignore.

“As you will,” he replied, rising from his desk to approach her. He gestured to the sofa and chairs, giving a slight bow. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Unlikely,” Marlena replied, perching on the edge of one of the large chairs. Dimera sank down opposite her on the sofa, while John moved to the far side of the room. Resting against the desk, he stared sightlessly at his boots and tried to become invisible.

Marlena found herself almost relieved to be facing Dimera. Her feelings for him were clear she hated the man. For everything he had done to her, to her family, even for what he had done to John, she hated him. There was a certain comfort in the consistency of that hate.

Her anger was stronger than her fear and she settled more comfortably in the big chair. “I am only here because I am forced to be, Stefano. Don’t think I am willing to help you in any way.”

“Marlena, you and your children will stay here until this matter is finished. If you wish the stay to be a lengthy one, then by all means, refuse to cooperate. As you well know, I am enchanted by your presence, willing or not.”

She grimaced in distaste, her eyes darting to John’s dark figure lurking in the background.

Catching the glance, Stefano called, “John, I do not believe Marlena accepts my word on this. Would you care to explain the situation to her?”

John’s body stiffened at the request, but he raised his head and sought out her eyes. When he spoke, his words were emotionless. “You will stay here, Marlena. You will stay until it is deemed safe for you to leave. We didn’t plant that bomb. And if we didn’t, the Brotherhood did. You aren’t leaving here until you tell us everything you know. About the organization. About Roman. About what got him killed. You aren’t leaving until I’m certain it’s safe.”

Marlena believed him. If only because the words hurt, she believed him. The fear rose as the reality of captivity set in, but greater than the fear was the hope. Because if she believed that John would allow Dimera to keep her here, maybe she could believe that he didn’t set the bomb. Maybe she could believe…





“If I tell you what you want to know, you will let us go?” she asked, shifting attention back to Dimera.

“Once we put the Brotherhood out of operation, you will be free,” he said with a nod, surprised by her willingness to concede so quickly.

She hesitated, wondering whether Dimera would keep his word. Dimera would lie, but John… “On two conditions. First, any information I give you must be turned over to the authorities. You will allow the law to handle this. You will not harm any of those men, and you will not let John harm them. My second condition you let us go. You let us go and you give me your word you will stay out of my life and the lives of my children.”

Stefano leaned back, his eyes never leaving her face. He granted her a halfbow. “If that is what you truly wish, Marlena I give you my word.”

Marlena tried to will herself to believe him, wanting it to be the truth while knowing it probably wasn’t. She was still undecided when John’s voice cut in, low and hard.

“No the stipulations are not acceptable. Those men will be mine to do with as I see fit. Stefano cannot promise they will not be harmed.”

Startled, she looked up at him, no longer able to recognized the man she had once known. Standing against the desk, backlit by the sun, John was a dark void she could not see into. She clasped her hands before her as a shiver ran down her spine, and for a moment she felt pity for the men he sought. They would receive no reprieve from this creature that stood apart from her, at one with the shadows that cloaked him.

Her voice an almost whisper, she looked into the dark where his face should be and asked, “Will you let us go? Will you promise me that, John?”





He hated himself for doing this to her, for causing her this pain. Without thinking about what he was doing, he moved to her side. Bending gracefully, he knelt before her, their faces level. Meeting her stare, he said firmly, “I give you my word of honor. If you will identify them, I will remove the threat. When that is done, you will go home. No one will ever bother you again. Not me. Not Dimera. Not anyone.”

Under the bright light of the chandelier, his eyes blazed an electric blue that threatened to stop her heart. She lost herself in their clear depths, seeing a glimmer of the man he had been. That man had never been able to lie to her he didn’t lie to her now. John had not set the bomb. He had not betrayed her. A tear escaped, trailing down her cheek. The strength of the emotion that ran through her made her catch her breath, her hand grasping at the heavy padded leather of the arm of the chair, her fingers brushing against his own.

He had been trapped by the tear that rolled down her cheek, frozen by the knowledge that she was crying because of him. He cursed himself for bringing her nothing but pain, jerking violently away as her hand touched his. He lurched to his feet and stood before her, his head bowed. He rubbed at his eyes, shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t trust me...” He was halfway across the room before her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“I do trust you, John. I do.”

She crossed her arms in front of her, her throat suddenly tight. “I believe you. I believe everything you say. But, John I don’t want you to kill those men. I won’t help you do that. I don’t want that for you.”

“They killed your child, Marlena. They almost killed you,” he replied, trying to keep the anger from his voice, uncertain if he had succeeded.





“It’s not about me,” she said softly.

He shook his head, her ability to surprise him neverending. “I will promise you this, Marlena. If I can protect you and still leave them alive I will.”

Her eyes held his for a long moment and then she granted him a grudging nod. “Then I will tell you what you want to know.”

“Thank you,” he said, stopping outside the door to the suite. Jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and looked everywhere but at her.

“For what?” Marlena asked, wishing he would meet her eyes. 

“You know for believing me. About Roman… I had no right to expect that. Not after what I’ve done.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, wanting only to escape into the privacy of her room, leave behind the hurt it caused her to be close to him. There was nothing she could say to fix him, nothing she could do to make him whole.

“I’ll talk to Stefano, get you those files you need,” John muttered, turning to leave.

“I didn’t want to believe it.” Despite herself, she paused before opening the door. “I didn’t want to, but… After the baby, Jameson came. Was it true, John? All of the things he told me? The killings? The murders? The ISA file on you was it true?”

“Yea, it was true. Whatever you saw, it was probably true. I doubt the ISA even knows about half the stuff I was responsible for.” He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the ground between his feet. “Like I said, I’d understand it if you don’t trust me.”

Marlena grimaced, planting her forehead against the smooth face of the wood. “I don’t know you anymore, John. I don’t understand you.”

“Yea, well that makes two of us,” he replied with a brittle laugh.

Tilting her head, she found him looking at her. “You never let me down, John. That much didn’t change. I should have trusted you.”

“About the Brotherhood, you mean?”

“Yea, about the Brotherhood,” she replied, smiling despite herself. “This whole thing with kidnaping me that’s another story.”

“I don’t want you hurt,” he said, his face flushing. “And don’t worry about Dimera, I swear, he won’t come near you. I would never let him… Nothing will happen. Not like last time, with the baby.”

In the awkward silence, she looked down, her hands running lightly across her flat stomach. The baby…





“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” she muttered, flinching as she felt his hand against her cheek. He pulled guiltily away from her, the remnants of her tears on the tips of his fingers.

“Sorry,” he said awkwardly. “I just, I know how you love your children. She would have been beautiful, Marlena just like her mother.”

“It wasn’t fair, John. None of this was her fault it wasn’t fair to lose her,” she said, clenching her eyes shut and shaking her head.

She heard his hiss of frustration, felt him brush his hands against her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have been there. I should have known better.”

Marlena rolled her eyes and broke away from his touch. “Not everything bad in the world is your fault, John. Some bad things just are.”

“It should never have happened, Marlena. Not the pregnancy and not the miscarriage,” he replied, his eyes going hard. “I won’t let you be hurt again.”

“I know you won’t,” she said, giving his arm a quick squeeze. “I told you I trust you.”

“Mom, are you all right?” Carrie asked, coming over to where she stood at the door of the large room.

“You were gone for hours. We ate lunch without you,” Eric chimed in, moving to sit on the sofa.

Marlena joined her son on the couch, leaning back against the thick cushions and allowing her defenses to drop for the first time that day. “I was meeting with Stefano and John. It took longer than expected.”

Seeing the alarm in their faces, she waved a hand and flashed them a small smile. “Don’t worry. I think everything is going to be okay. I think… I think that they had nothing to do with the bombing. Nothing to do with your father’s death.”

Carrie and Eric looked puzzled, Eric even a little angry. Sami, however, was more than willing to believe. “I told you,” she said, delight in her voice. “I told you he didn’t do it!”

“Mom, what makes you think they’re innocent? We were so sure. They even heard John say he did it,” Carrie said, nodding to Sami and Eric.

“Mom, they kidnaped us! What more proof do we need?” Eric cut in, his face flushed.

“Everyone! Please! I will answer your questions, but you need to slow down. Sami, Carrie. Come sit down. Let me explain what happened,” Marlena said, her voice rising to pierce the din.

“Sorry Mom,” Carrie replied sheepishly. “Go on. Tell us what happened.”

“Stefano wanted to talk to me about why we are here. He says he is protecting us from the Brotherhood. It’s a… a vigilante group. Stefano says that they are responsible for the bombing. According to Dimera, I might be their next target.”

“Mom, that doesn’t make any sense,” Eric spat out. “Why would they be after dad? Much less you?”

Not wanting to go into Roman’s involvement with the group, Marlena chose her words with care. “Your father had evidence on the organization. Evidence he was going to turn over to the authorities. The Brotherhood knew that he had it. And now, Stefano and John think that they know I have seen the evidence. That I represent a threat. That is why they say they brought us here.”

“That still doesn’t explain what we heard John say, Mom. We didn’t make that up,” Eric replied.

She nodded tiredly, trying not to grow impatient with Eric’s cynicism. Her son had a right to doubt. “I asked John… What exactly did you to hear him say?”

“He was talking to Stefano. He said that it was all his fault. That he messed up, that he was sorry,” Sami replied, willing her mother to explain away the ugly words.

“John was sorry because… When he found out about the baby, found out what Stefano had done to make me pregnant, John broke away from Dimera. He quit working for him. And then when the explosion happened… Well, he felt it was his fault. That if he had been doing his job, if they hadn’t both been distracted, he could have somehow stopped it.” She nodded to Sami and Eric. “That’s what you heard. He was sorry that he had left. Felt that if he hadn’t, I might not have been hurt, your father might not have been...”

There was quiet for a moment, Sami and Eric both remembering the moment in the hospital, deciding if it fit with John’s story. Slowly, the smile of satisfaction returned to Sami’s face and she nodded her head. “Yea! That does make sense, Mom. Right, Eric?” she said, turning to look at her brother.





His face still troubled, the young man merely shrugged. “Could be. No way to know for sure.”

Noting the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, Marlena studied her only son. He sat almost defiantly, arms crossed before his chest. He was too young to look so jaded, she thought. Cringing again at what had been done to her family, she wearily rose to her feet. “True enough, Eric. You will have to makeup your own mind. Now, I think I need to go soak in a hot bath.”

“Are they going to let us go, Mom? Do you know what’s happening?” Perched on the seat, her legs crossed beneath her, Carrie looked more curious than afraid.

“They said we would be free to go as soon as the Brotherhood is brought in. John gave me his word.”

“And you believe him?” Eric’s voice was laced with sarcasm.

“Yes, Eric I do.”

John walked back into the study, stretching his arms high above his head and feeling the knots in his shoulders protest. He flopped onto the couch and picked at the remains of the fruit laying on a platter on the coffee table.

“You were gone for quite some time,” Dimera noted from his desk, eyes intent on the papers in his hand.

John gave a shrug. “She had something she wanted to ask me about.”

With a sigh, Dimera rose from his chair, moving to the small bar tucked into the corner by yet another of the many fireplaces that dotted the lodge. He filled a glass with Irish whiskey, trying to find a way to broach a subject they had both been avoiding. “You wish I had never brought you back, don’t you? Never made you remember?”





Again, John shrugged, refusing to meet Stefano’s eyes. “I was living a lie. I know that.”

“That is not what I asked.”

Not wanting to argue, John grunted a laugh. “Okay you’re right. I wish I had never remembered. I wish I had lived that lie until the day I died, lived it until they buried me at her side. Is that what you wanted to hear, Stefano? That I would have chosen to stay with her? Never come back to this life? Fine! I said it. You happy now?” He shot to his feet, pacing across the room in an effort to work off the nervous energy that surged through him.

Stefano sipped his drink, watching as the man stalked across the room, filling the space with his anger and his pain. Not wanting to interrupt the outburst, he kept his thoughts to himself.

John rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension, force back the feelings of loss. “You don’t know. You can’t know...” he said softly. “It was so perfect, being with her. With the children. Thinking they were mine. I took it all for granted and didn’t even realize it until they were gone.” He gave a sharp shake of his head, bringing himself back to the present. As if remembering Dimera was still in the room, he gave him a rueful look.

“She is the most incredible woman I have ever known. To have her love you… it’s a gift. I would have done anything not to have lost that.”

Dimera was many things. Cold. Ruthless. Controlled. He had a genius for recognizing human emotions, a genius for exploiting them. The one thing he was not, was a fool.

“She still thinks of you as her husband,” Dimera said. “The way she looks at you when I’m talking to her. She expects you to be there for her. She expects you to protect her.”

“I will protect her. I thought you understood that.”

“You can’t have her, John. I thought you understood that.”

“Neither can you,” John replied flatly.

Their eyes locked, neither man willing to back down. Finally, Dimera gave a short nod that neither of them mistook for agreement. Not for the first time, he wondered if they would both be standing when this whole thing ended. “We should concentrate on the Brotherhood for now.”

“That would probably be best,” John said, returning to his seat on the couch. Picking up a knife, he began to absently peel an apple, more concerned with his skill at the carving than with the food itself. The long thin string of red slid away in a single thread beneath his sharp blade, the imagery inspiring him. “The first step is easy. We take Jameson out. He’s the head of the organization. We cut off the head and the body will die.”

Dimera repressed a grin at John’s choice of words and again hoped it would not come down to a battle between the two of them. “That might be a little hasty, John. It is not even certain that Jameson is the one in charge.”

John flashed Stefano a wry look. “He told Marlena that the Brotherhood could not be responsible for the bombing, that there was no time for them to react to Roman’s decision. We both know that’s a crock, Stefano. They could easily have done it. They had the motivation, we didn’t. Yet he directs the blame at us. He dismisses the Brotherhood. Hell! He was Roman’s contact. He’s the one that knew for certain that Brady was going to give them up. He set this whole thing in motion and then stepped in to play the hero. I know he’s responsible when did you become so naive?”

“Naive is not a term generally used in connection with me, John. I prefer the word ‘cautious’. But I do agree. Jameson is involved, and most likely he is the head of the organization. His position in the ISA makes this the most likely scenario. But it is still not certain and Marlena has only had time to identify three of the other men involved. We need to take the time to gather information, identify all of the members of the organization. Then we will act, not before.”

John flung the knife down, burying the tip deep in the hard wood of the table. Waiting did not suit him but Dimera made too much sense to ignore. He gave a resigned nod, acknowledging the wisdom of Dimera’s counsel. “So we wait. But please tell me you weren’t serious when you suggested we would turn this information over to the authorities?”

Dimera’s face hardened, his buried anger flashing through for an instance. “They killed my child, John. I want them in the dirt. Each and every one of them. When the time is right, they all die. On this we are agreed, are we not?”

“Oh yes, Stefano. Their deaths are a given. It is the one thing I am sure of.”

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