Chapter Ten:
Beyond Therapy

Carly sat up in her chair for the third time in the last ten minutes. For some reason she continually found herself slouching in the chairs in Gail Baldwin's office. She had to remind herself that she wasn't fifteen and sitting in the guidance counsellor's office. She was supposed to take this seriously. She focused on Gail's impossibly kinds smile -- one that made her feel queasy -- and braced herself.

"You've been very quiet today," Gail probed. Carly glanced over at the window, shaking her head distractedly. The Venetian blinds were only partially open and the sun that streamed in fell in slats across the floor. She snuck a quick look at the clock. Forty-five minutes left.

"I don't have anything to say."

"Are you certain that's true, Carly?"

Of course it wasn't true. And Gail knew that. And Carly KNEW that Gail knew that. The fact that she had to ask the question was just one more thing about therapy that set Carly's teeth on edge.

"What do you want?" she asked, looking over at Gail. "What do you want, do you want me to cry? Do you want me to say I'm never going to love again? Just tell me, I'll do it, and we can all go home."

Gail leaned forward in her chair, clasping her hands together, and searched out Carly's eyes with hers. This was a familiar game. She wouldn't speak again until Carly consented to look at her, and the game could get really monotonous. Carly shifted her weight in the chair and finally turned to meet Gail's pervasive gaze. It was just easier that way.

"I thought we were getting beyond this hostility, Carly." Gail's voice was soothing, and Carly felt herself deflate. There was no point in this. She was stuck in this room. There was nothing she could do about it. She knew she had to play along to some degree.

"I just don't feel like talking much," she sighed finally. That WAS the truth. She was sick of the sound of her own voice. She didn't feel like it was getting her anywhere. Gail nodded sympathetically.

"You don't feel like it'll change anything."

Carly gave an exasperated sigh and threw her head back, looking up at the ceiling, letting the words spill out of her as quickly as she could manage.

"Look. My mother has been watching me like a hawk all week. She's acting like I'm going to throw myself in front of a bus. She jumps ten feet in the air if I cough. She's upset because I went out for a few hours the other day and she didn't know where I was. All she wants me to do is talk, scream, cry, or -- I don't even KNOW what she wants." Carly jerked her head up to look at Gail. "I know whatever it is I'm not giving her enough of it, because she won't get off my case! I don't have anything to say, I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to think about it, I don't want to FEEL any of it, I just want to be left alone!"

Gail sat back in her chair, as if Carly's words had blasted her backwards and gave her an approving smile. "So, you do have something to say."

Carly groaned outright. She had lots of things to say. She just had an intense desire not to say them. What did it matter? What good was it going to do to talk about the wedding, to talk about what had happened, to talk about how she felt about it? She didn't even know how she felt about it. She wouldn't let her mind rest there. She didn't want to repeat even one moment of the past week back for herself.

Parts of it, however, she was having a lot of trouble holding to herself. And it was slowly driving her crazy. She and Nikolas, as they'd parted company two days ago, had agreed to meet at the Marina where the boat was docked at eight o'clock Friday evening. That was now roughly four and a half hours away. She wasn't sure how she was going to make it through that time without having a full out nervous breakdown.

Gail, aware that Carly was going to force her to pull teeth this afternoon, took a sip of water and glanced down at her notes. "Why don't we just take things slow this afternoon?" she asked, giving Carly a kind smile. "Tell me about your week. How are you sleeping?"

"Fine," Carly shrugged. She was, sleeping more than Gail would probably think was healthy. Heavily and without dreams. She'd wake up feeling just as tired as ever, though. Except for today. Today she woke up with butterflies in her stomach that were intensifying as the day went on. That she couldn't get into, not even with Gail. She gripped the arms of her chair tighter and closed her eyes. There had to be something else to talk about.

"Did you see Michael?"

Bingo! When in doubt, draw the Michael card. Carly forced her eyes open and sat up, yet again. She brought one foot up on the seat of the chair, hugging her leg to her chest and leaned her chin on her knee.

"I could only see him for an hour and a half, since it was the day of the wedding. The Quartermaines wouldn't reschedule..." Carly shook her head, and ran a hand through her hair quickly. "Well, they said tried to, but... It didn't work out."

"How was he?" Gail prodded.

Carly bit her lip, thinking back to the brief visit on the early morning of the wedding. "He was ok," she murmured, considering his mood. It had been sedate, actually. He'd come and curled up in her lap for most of the visit, turning a matchbox car over and over in his hands and barely speaking to her. That had been alright, she was more than willing to just hold him, breath in the smell of his clean hair, feel the softness of his cheek against hers. She loved Michael with every breath she took, but she was most aware of it when she got a quiet moment with him. They were rare. Usually he was tearing around with more energy than it seemed impossible for anyone to possess naturally. She smiled, mostly to herself. "I get the full four hours with him tomorrow, though. So I'll have lots of time to just play with him."

Gail gave her another kind smile. "You like playing with him."

"I'm good at it," Carly said firmly. She was. She made SURE she was, no matter what mood she was in. She wanted Michael to miss her when she was gone. She wanted to see his eyes light up when she entered the room. She wanted him to be happy to see her. She needed that. At some times in he last year, she had lived from visit to visit, the only thing she could take any joy in being the expression on Michael's face when she walked through the door of the mansion. He still loved her. No court in the world was going to take THAT away from her.

"Did you miss that time you lost? It must have been harder to get through with only a few hours."

"It's always hard," Carly snapped. "I love my son. You know that."

"Of course I do, Carly. I can see that, I can see that very clearly," Gail placated.

Carly scowled at the floor. She hated this. This stupid circle they went around and around in when it came to Michael. Carly honestly couldn't see the point of her seeing a therapist that she knew was going to go up for a hearing in another six months and give recommendations on whether or not she was stable enough to be granted more lenient visitation rights. She felt like she had to hold so much in. Her anger, her absolute fury that, after carrying Michael for nine months, after picking herself up when Tony's true colors appeared and finding a safe place for him, a place where he could be cared for and loved, after fighting in every way she knew how for him, the courts had swooped down and snatched him away. That it was even possible galled her. But she kept that to herself. Anger, it seemed, wasn't a healthy emotion for a mother to have. She shook her head. Who the hell made up these rules anyway?

Carly took a deep breath, and forced a smile. "He's doing well," she said as evenly as she could manage. "He seems happy."

Once Gail had returned the smile, Carly turned her attention to her fingernails, desperate not to continue this line of discussion. She wondered why dementia was so easy to fake and sanity so difficult. She wasn't crazy, that much even the experts were admitting -- reluctantly. She fell into the category of the "Hopelessly messed-up". Carly had tried to argue that half the people she knew fell into that category, and the fact that her son was now being raised by a family who thrived on their own dysfunction was just a little too ironic for her to appreciate. She cleared her throat and looked up at Gail again.

"Anything else?"

Gail laughed softly. "Am I keeping you from something?"

Carly averted her eyes. No. Just more staring at ceilings and worrying about this strange sinking feeling she got in her stomach every time she let her mind wander. She wondered a moment just what Gail would say if she let her know what was really going on? How on earth would she read the fact that Carly had, in the span of a few days, started an affair that was already screaming it's own doom?

An affair. That was the first time she'd let herself think the words. Well, this would be the third time she would have seen him this week. And she had to admit she was excited about it. Not excited in the way people usually would be in this situation, but the word did fit in it's own way. Just thinking about Nikolas made her throat close up, her heart beat a little faster. She was almost ill with anticipation. She was so afraid to see him again it nearly blinded her. But she was certain there was no way on earth she wasn't going to meet him again.

"Carly?"

Carly jumped in her chair at the sound of Gail's voice.

"Huh?" she asked, not bothering to cover the fact that she hadn't been listening. Gail frowned at her, her eyes still maddeningly understanding and kind.

"Something is on your mind," she observed.

Carly shrugged.

"Is it Jason?"

A coldness grabbed Carly hard by the throat and she looked up at Gail in shock. Not shock that it had come up -- it was inevitable, after all -- but in that it had been so far from her mind. She shook her head hard.

"I'm not thinking about him."

Gail reached out, something she rarely did, and patted Carly's hand.

"It's alright to think about him, Carly. You have to mourn. He meant a lot to you."

Yeah, Carly though bitterly. And I never mattered a lick to him. Not really. Not in any way that counted for anything. She shivered involuntarily and slid her foot back onto the floor.

"He's not here, I get a whole week free of him, I'm not going to waste it thinking about him every waking moment. I mean..." She laughed humourlessly. "He's on his honeymoon. He's off someplace... Probably in a state of total bliss." Carly felt the image of Robin in Jason's arms come up on her and felt a wave of nausea. "That's not something I want to think about," she muttered.

"Sometimes we have to embrace things we don't want to think about in order to move on," Gail's voice reassured her. Carly tried hard not to laugh. Sure. Like the moment they took Michael away from her was something she could move past. Like watching her mother collapse in front of her was ever going to get easier to think about. Or Tony's mocking face in the court room after he kidnapped Michael, Jason's anger when she let AJ know that he was Michael's real father, or the way Robin looked at Jason at the altar... None of this was going away. She wasn't going to let it. It was the only thing she had that was honest to God her's, and she wouldn't let go of it, she wouldn't get over it and paste on some stupid zombie-smile like everything was fine, just so that the world would feel better about her. Not for anyone.

Anyone except Michael. Carly took another deep breath.

"You're right," she forced her voice to sound light. "I just... I don't think I'm ready to talk about it yet."

Carly winced inwardly, hoping Gail was going to buy it. A look of concern flickered through Gail's eyes. Nope. No such luck. Carly raked her hands through her hair, trying to think of something else to do.

"I mean," Carly continued, searching desperately for something safe and sufficiently angst-ridden to discuss. She dragged her eyes along the painted border of the wall. "I think that being a bridesmaid was a good thing for me," she mused, lying through her teeth. "I think it gave me a sense of closure. And it was healthy to say good-bye"

She snuck another quick look at Gail to see if the woman was buying. It was hard to tell. Damn it, she thought to herself. They couldn't have stuck me with a dumb therapist, could they?

No, Carly reminded herself. She didn't want a dumb therapist. Dumb therapists were dangerous. They were simple minded, and that alone should outlaw them from this kind of work. Gail wasn't like that. Gail, she suspected, was onto her.

"Let's talk about something else," Gail's voice was brisk as she flipped over the page in her notebook. "How are you feeling about looking for a job?"

Carly froze in her chair. A question out of right field. Score one point for Gail Baldwin.

"I... I don't know," she mumbled. This part she couldn't fake. No matter what she did, the fact that she still couldn't guarantee that she could get up in the morning, let alone hold down a job, was hard to conceal. It always gave her away.

"Have you considered starting to look again?"

"Where?" Carly asked, her voice empty. "I'm not coming back here."

"Perhaps you should think about going back to school. You told me you used to be a good student."

Carly laughed, throwing her head back. God, this woman's mind was remarkable. How the hell did she remember all this stuff?

"Right. That was a long time ago."

"Well," Gail continued, unperturbed. "It's obvious to me that you are a bright and determined woman. I have no doubt you can accomplish anything you put your mind to."

Carly shook her head, not wanting to think about it.

"It doesn't matter."

"Are you sure about that?"

Carly groaned and shot Gail a nasty look. "Yeah, I'm sure about it! It doesn't change anything. What am I supposed to do? Finish my nurse's training? Do you think anyone in this town would line up to have me take care of them? God. They all know I'm not even allowed to take care of my own son!"

"You have to give yourself the chance to change, Carly"

Carly stared at her, amazed. Change? Did anyone REALLY care if she changed? She had changed. She was not anything close to the person who had blown into town five years earlier. Did anyone care? No. They still hurled the same epithets at her they always had. Tramp, whore, liar... That didn't change. She couldn't imagine that it ever would.

"I don't..." she stopped short, feeling her chest constrict. Oh, God. Not now. "I don't have the --" She swallowed hard, staring at the wall. She wasn't going to do this. She was not going to cry. She wasn't going to look anymore helpless and pathetic than she already did. She'd cried enough this week. God, she'd had an all-out melt down in the alley with Nikolas. That was more than enough of an outpouring of emotion. And that didn't leave her feeling as emotionally raped as this was going to. She wasn't sure why. Probably, she realized, because Nikolas looked at her like his heart was breaking on her behalf. Because he held her exactly how she always wanted to. Oh, God...

Carly covered her face with her hand and let out a strangled sob. She wasn't going to do this! She'd sworn up an down she was never going to cry in front of Gail Baldwin again, not through this whole wedding thing. And now, after almost three months of dry-eyed sessions, she had broken down. She looked up at Gail, defiantly, refusing to apologize for the tears rolling down her cheek. Gail reached out and handed her a tissue that appeared to have come out of thin air. Carly shook her head, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Change huh?" she gave a small laugh. "I guess I could use a bit of that."

Nikolas waiting until he well away from the boardroom before turning to his father, his irritation barely concealed.

"Are any of those meetings ever going to AMOUNT to anything?" he hissed between clenched teeth. A look of amusement flickered across Stefan's face before he put a hand on Nikolas's shoulder and lead him on a short detour from their projected path towards the nurse's station, and into the General Hospital Library, closing the door behind him.

"You don't have much patience for them," Stefan observed as Nikolas walked across the room, physically shaking the meeting off of himself.

"Who's idea was it to put that many Quartermaines in one room together?"

"I've hear they live like that," Stefan smiled, his lips pressed together. "But it is tedious, isn't it?"

Tedious. That was an adjective that summed up far too much of Nikolas's life these days. He didn't have the endurance for this. Not if he didn't see it heading anywhere. And although he was well aware that this was the hospital that had saved his sister's life, it was hard to imagine that the board actually assisted in it's continued good health. In fact, it seemed more the miracle the place was still standing.

"I just wish, just ONCE that something actually got accomplished."

"Oh, it does. When it must be." Stefan strode across the room, glancing over the book titles. "In the meantime they are to be tolerated."

"I'm trying," Nikolas muttered, sinking his hands into his pockets. He was usually better at this. Today time was dragging and every moment he'd spent in that room, following the trails of circular logic, attempting to see if they were ever going to add up to anything had made him feel incredibly bitter. He'd left the room feeling two hours closer to death and not much more. Nikolas sighed heavily and spun around on his heel, catching Stefan watching him with a look of grave concern. Stefan looked away quickly, then, acknowledging that he had been caught, turned back to his son.

"You are aware, Nikolas," he spoke carefully, with practised detachment, "that there is little reason for us to remain in Port Charles if you ever desire to return to the island."

Nikolas stared at Stefan, momentarily speechless. This was not a topic they had broached in years. He wasn't even aware that his father had been thinking of this. The idea had occurred to him, mostly before the wedding, but he was not aware that he was being that transparent. He stepped back, regrouping, then cleared his throat.

"Laura," he said finally. "My sister and Laura."

Stefan nodded briskly, turning his attention back to the books.

"Very well," his voice was clipped, closing the matter. Nikolas watched him, the stiff and business like way he was standing. Something was bothering him. Something he wasn't concealing very well. It didn't take much guess work to figure out what.

"I'm alright, father."

Stefan nodded, still looking at the book titles. "Yes."

Nikolas leaned against the table, watching his back, waiting for him to turn around. They hadn't, he realized, spoken about much outside of business in the last week. He hadn't brought up the topic of Robin or the wedding... Or where he had been the night following the nuptials... Or why he'd missed dinner on Wednesday. He knew his father's suspicious nature must be working over time. It was impossible to tell how much he knew, or what he might suspect. Stefan rarely raised his concerns to Nikolas directly, that had not changed as Nikolas had aged. He still preferred to deal with problems at what he perceived to be their source. That was why the situation with Robin had driven him to distraction. There was no external source to be quelled. All he could do was worry. And that was, most likely, what he was doing now. In addition to that, Stefan ALWAYS waited for Nikolas to pursue these topics first. It was not his nature, in any way, to force Nikolas to talk about something like this.

Nikolas closed his eyes, trying to think if there was anything he could say to his father to soothe him on the topic of his general health and well-being. There wasn't. He could barely soothe himself. Robin Scorpio aside, Nikolas was just fed up. He had reached his limit. Nothing depressed him more than thoughts of the future. It seemed empty and meaningless. And he couldn't look his father in the eye and deny that.

"I meant what I said the other day," Nikolas spoke quietly, steadily. "It is over. I won't look back, not anymore."

Stefan turned from the books to face Nikolas, having been extended the invitation he had been hoping for.

"I believe you, Nikolas. I don't doubt you mean that."

"You doubt my ability to do it, though," Nikolas spoke without anger. Stefan stared off at the opposite wall, lost in thought.

"I have always believed that you have abilities I am not even aware of," Stefan murmured, as if he was reminding himself. He turned his attention back to Nikolas. "They say your children further... They continue your struggles. They complete them in ways you cannot."

Nikolas blinked hard, trying to hold off a wave of emotion threatening to overtake him completely. This always hit him hard. It always had. Stefan had been the only father he'd ever known, after all. But now, now that it could be acknowledged, it hit him in ways he couldn't describe. He'd come to many realizations about his father once he'd known the truth. It was those realizations that allowed him to forgive him for the lies he'd been told. To live with them, even if he couldn't let go of them completely. He was determined not to take his anger out on Stefan any more than he already had. It served no purpose, it changed nothing. And there was no denying that only one person had stayed by him, steadfast, his entire life.

"Who said that?" he asked, pushing down the emotion in his voice. Stefan's face clouded.

"I'm... I'm not certain."

Nikolas laughed. "You read too much. You can't keep it straight anymore."

Stefan shook his head, allowing himself a smile. "I can only promise you it's not something I heard from my father."

Nikolas's face darkened immediately, his eye catching his Stefan's without intending to.

"I know," Nikolas met his gaze, aware that they were entering unstable ground. "That's how you surpass him."

Stefan's expression contorted, struggling to find a place that was comfortable while being pushed in directions he clearly did not want to go in. His eyes filled with tears, but he set his jaw stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge them, and tilted his head up, meeting Nikolas's eyes intensely.

"I will always protect you Nikolas. Nothing will ever change that."

Nikolas felt a wry smile creep across his lips. "I know. Believe me, I know." He stood up, pushing himself off the table and crossed to his father, giving him a quick but firm hug. This was far too public a setting to expect to start to explore anything they were discussing in any depth. He pulled back and ran his fingers through his hair. Stefan straightened up, his jaw still clamped.

"You requested an early dinner at the house tonight, if I recall correctly," Stefan noted, adjusting his shirt cuffs.

"Right," Nikolas said slowly, feeling like this and the discussion of why was dangerous territory. "I should check on something in pediatrics, are you heading back to the island?"

"That was my plan."

"I'll meet you at the car then," Nikolas stepped towards the door, shooting Stefan a quick look. "You can give me more lectures on my lack of forbearance on the trip home."

Stefan allowed himself a laugh as Nikolas opened the door.

Bobbie glanced down at her watch at she shuffled papers at the nurse's station. She was working a late shift tonight, but she was hoping that Carly would stop by to see her before taking a cab back to the brownstone. She usually did, but lately Carly had been more distant than usual. It was understandable, given the events of the last week, but it still unnerved her. She was living in a state of flux, constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was interfering with everything. Her concentration was split, though she was constantly searching for something to distract her.

Bobbie sighed, allowing herself to lean against the nurse's station's counter a moment, recharging. It had been such a long week. It was going to be such a long MONTH. She shook her head slowly, staring of into space. There had to be some sort of solution to this. It had to have an ending.

Bobbie straightened up suddenly as Nikolas Cassadine appeared, coming down the hallway in front of her. She felt her heart jump, and she reached out of the distraction, seizing it.

Nikolas!" she couldn't keep the enthusiasm out of her voice. In had been weeks since she'd seen her former... Step son? It was hard to figure out exactly WHAT she had been to Nikolas, sometimes. It didn't matter particularly, she still felt maternal towards him.

Nikolas froze in his tracks at the sound of Bobbie's voice. He was brought immediately and without warning, to the last time he'd heard that voice. Calling from outside Carly's apartment as she hurriedly dressed and warned him to keep his mouth shut. He swallowed hard, in spite of himself, and turned, giving her a wan smile.

"Hi, Bobbie."

"Well, stranger, it's been a long time since I've seen YOU around!" Bobbie's voice was familiarly upbeat, a tone that seemed to suggest she was absolutely beyond amused with whatever life handed her. Nikolas had always liked that about her, but now was just... Not the time.

"I think we keep missing each other. I've been at the hospital a lot lately."

Bobbie nodded, leaning across the counter. "Yes, I've heard you're quite the business man these days."

Now there was a statement Nikolas had no response to. Business man. Mogul in training? Whatever, it held absolutely no meaning to him.

"Well, I have..." he searched for a word. "Responsibilities."

Bobbie gave a smile that hinted that her ebullient disposition was not entirely honest. "Don't we all," she murmured, letting her eyes wander off. She was lost in thought a moment, then shook her head, straightening up. "Oh, never mind this! Tell me how you've been."

Bobbie was looking at Nikolas with real interest. She was someone who he'd always felt that he could be honest with, at least about what was going on with him, if not with the family and the rest of the world. Still. There was a wall there, he was still careful with her, since her marriage to his father had ended.

"I've been alright," he allowed. Bobbie's eyes immediately narrowed.

"Uh oh... I'm sensing someone's holding back."

Oh, God. Nikolas looked up at her, unable to hide his immediate nervousness at the statement. Bobbie gave him a winning smile and he bowed his head again, laughing at the expression on her face.

"It's been a crazy month," he acknowledged.

Bobbie sighed. "Tell me about it." She started to sort through her papers again. "I saw you at Jason's wedding, I just didn't get a chance to talk to you before you disappeared."

Considering part of his reason for disappearing had been the fact that he felt no one would notice he was gone, Nikolas was beginning to be unnerved by the number of people who's watchful eyes had picked up on his early exit. He shifted his weight.

"Uh..." Nikolas looked up and met Bobbie's gaze. She was looking at him, her head cocked to one side, eyes soft and filled with amused concern. She didn't really think anything was wrong with him. She wasn't really in the loop. He wondered for just a second what she'd think if she was.

"I know that you and Robin are close," Bobbie said softly. Nikolas tensed. Apparently a little more in the loop than he'd thought. Was there a sign on his head?

"We're friends. We always will be," he shrugged. He found himself looking around, desperate to find another topic of conversation, when he saw the elevator doors open.

Carly stepped off the elevator, feeling a little unsteady. She hated the way she felt whenever a session got that heavy. Her equilibrium was off, the world was tilted, like she was in some sort of fun house. She just wanted to get to the nurse's station and tell Bobbie she wasn't going to be around tonight, then get the hell out of this place.

Carly glanced up, seeing her mother's unmistakable red hair first before she spotted Nikolas. Without ever thinking about it she turned right around and started back to the elevator, her heart immediately in her throat.

"Carly!" Her mother's voice followed after her, an unmistakable tone of confusion in it. She continued her turn, so that it looked more as if she'd done an impromptu pirouette in the middle of the floor and headed back across the room to her mother. "Where were you going?"

Carly shrugged uncomfortably. "You're talking to someone."

Bobbie rolled her eyes. "This isn't someone -- Carly, you must have met Nikolas by now."

Carly stopped, a good six feet away from Nikolas and tossed him a reluctant look. "Whatever. I'm done, I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Carly!" Bobbie seemed to be laughing, but there was a tone in her voice that was the same as when she reprimanded Lucas for ignoring relatives.

"I don't think we've been formally introduced," Nikolas's voice floated softly to Carly's ears. She nearly shivered, but covered it with a dramatic sigh, and stole another glance in his direction. He didn't look anymore at ease with this than she did.

"Probably not," Carly muttered. Bobbie looked back and forth between them. Nikolas appeared to be uncomfortable in response to Carly's sullen attitude. She shook her head, irritated that Carly couldn't even bother to TRY to be nice to the boy, even for a moment. Carly looked up at her mother warily and Bobbie gave he a disapproving look. Oh, man... She was going to hear about this. She looked over at Nikolas and gave him a cursory nod.

"Carly Roberts."

Nikolas gave her a small smile and Carly felt her mouth go dry. "Nikolas Cassadine."

The word seemed to hang in the air a moment, then Nikolas jerked himself, forcing himself not to get lost in staring at her. He cleared his throat and extended his hand, out of habit more than anything else. Carly was startled, staring at his hand like it was a foreign object. He wasn't seriously expecting her to --

"Carly," Bobbie's voice was moving towards embarrassment. Carly reached out slowly and took Nikolas's hand, feeling a injection of electricity shoot through her arm as her eyes locked on his. She felt almost as if their location fell away and for a moment she felt herself move forward towards him, like she was being pulled in by some magnetic force. She wanted to just wrap herself in his arms, tell him she had a bad day. She might not know much about this man, but she knew that he'd listen. He'd empathize, he'd hold her. God, she felt like she needed that right now.

Carly jerked her hand back quickly, as if she'd been burned. "Nice to meet you," she muttered, turning back to her mother. "Look," she sighed. "I'm really tired, I'm going home and crashing. I'll see you tomorrow morning, ok?"

Bobbie frowned at her daughter, wondering just what was wrong with her. She had consented to shake Nikolas's hand for a millisecond, and now she was running out of here as fast as she could. The session must have gone badly. Bobbie reminded herself of he sort of week Carly was having -- even if she wouldn't talk about it, she must feel as if she'd been ripped apart. She smiled at Carly sadly and nodded.

"Tomorrow. I'll be home around ten tonight --"

"I'll be asleep," Carly cut in. "I'm really tired."

Nikolas purposely didn't look at Carly as she spoke. He couldn't figure out if she was just trying to account for her planned absence that night or if this was her way of telling him she was pulling out of their plans. He felt a flash of panic at the thought. She couldn't pull out. It hit him hard just how much he needed to see her. He stared down at the floor hard.

"Alright," Bobbie's voice softened. "Get some rest, then."

"I will," Carly looked at Nikolas again and, sensing this, he glanced up and met her eyes again. She looked away before he could put a name on what he saw there. "See ya," she mumbled, then turned and headed back for the elevator, catching it just as the door shut. Bobbie, feeling a little dizzy, watched after her daughter, feeling warning bells go off in her head. She'd been waiting for this. She shook herself, then turned back to Nikolas, who's eyes were also fixed on the closed elevator doors.

"I'm sorry about that," Bobbie apologized. "Carly can be... reserved."

Nikolas nodded slowly.

"I'm sure she has things on her mind," he murmured. He forced himself to look back at Bobbie. "I'm used to that."

"She doesn't mean to be rude, please don't take it personally."

Nikolas exhaled heavily, and forced himself to smile at Bobbie.

"I won't."