Chapter Thirty-Seven:
Baggage

Laura's stomach had seized violently the moment she laid eyes on Carly. It was the same kind of sick she felt as a child, getting caught doing something she shouldn't. Her face heated, and she stared at the woman in front of her, trying to get some sort of grip on how much of a catastrophe this was.

"Carly..." she managed, finally. Stand up! She silently instructed herself. Her body obeyed, unsteadily. "I... Hello."

No one gets my sense of humor, Carly thought, as her mother-in-law turned to face her. The woman looked... startled. Her eyes were absolutely huge, and when they blinked, she looked like a china doll that had been tipped -- eyes popping open again like her lids were on a spring.

"Ummm..." she moved her eyes away from the woman, scanning the room for anything that might help her out. "I'm looking for my..." she winced, coming up against the 'M' word again. "...Bobbie. Is she here?"

Laura's hands started to obsessively smooth the folds of her skirt. "She's upstairs," Carly looked back at her and they locked eyes for a long moment. "I-I-I can get her for you --"

"No," Carly took a big step backwards. This was probably a bad idea. Really, the smartest thing to do was turn and walk away. No trouble in that. "No, that's cool. Just... Tell her I'm here when you see her. I'm..." she indicated the door behind her with her thumb. "I've got packing to do."

"Oh," Laura pushed her hair back from her face. "Right. Of course."

Across the room, the clock ticked unrelentingly.

"Right," Carly said finally. "See ya." She put her head down and started out of the room.

"Carly?"

Damn.

"Yeah?" she asked, without turning around.

"I..." Laura started to move towards her, and Carly turned suddenly like she was trying to ward off a surprise attack. Her mother-in-law stopped dead. Don't do this, Laura, she told herself. Nikolas was always a little hostile when he discovered that his mother was making inquiries about him. It was why she'd waited so many days before finally breaking down and going to Bobbie. And talking to Carly was definitely crossing an unspoken line.

Carly waited for the rest of the thought. It was not forthcoming. She crossed her arms and gave her an even look. Might as well get this over with.

"You're here to get the scoop, right? I mean, that's what this is about."

"I really didn't know that you'd be here," Laura said, by way of apology. "I never... Ah!" She shook her hands out, impatient with herself. "God, I'm getting worse! I used to just be bad at talking to him directly. Now I can't talk about him at all without turning into a stuttering, fidgeting maniac," she gave a contrite smile. "I must be scaring you to death."

"I don't scare easy," Carly leaned against the door jamb. "But I don't have a whole lot to say to you."

"Nikolas doesn't want me in his life. I know that, Carly. I do." Laura threw up a hand, and turned away. "I don't actually know what I'm doing. I'm just... here. I started to go to work, and I ended up at the Brownstone."

It struck Carly that she was missing serious information here. She and Laura only crossed paths at forced family marches -- Thanksgiving, Fourth of July picnics. She always seemed happy and glowing and capable. This was a very different incarnation. And what this woman was saying to her didn't exactly jive with anything Nikolas had said on the topic.

"Look," she said, finally. "Let's just make this easy on each other. If you have some kind of warning, or threat or whatever for me -- just write it down and I'll look it over at my leisure. Cause really? I don't have time for this."

Laura turned back to her neice-turned-daughter-in-law. She remembered, once again, how Luke had come into the house railing about this girl and her lack of cooperation. Her determination to self-destruct. That had only been a week ago. Bobbie had been very tight-lipped before disappearing upstairs to get dressed. All Laura really knew at the moment was what Lucky had told her. And Lucky, by his own admission, didn't actually know anything about this.

"I'm not trying to judge you, Carly," Laura spoke carefully. "I just... Want to know how my son is. You can understand that, can't you?"

It was an attempt at understanding, and Laura realized the magnitude of her mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth, from the look on Carly's face.

"What do you mean by that?" Carly stepped forward, feeling her blood heat. She saw Laura wince and didn't care. "Because if you mean that your situation with Nikolas is anything like me and my son --"

"Carly, I'm just --"

"I didn't leave Michael. I had him taken away from me. It's not his choice that I don't know what he does every day, or how he is. It's something that was decided for us --"

"What happened to my son and I wasn't my choice either!" Laura suddenly spit out. She stopped, a little surprised at the violence in her tone, then shook her head. "God, it's complicated, Carly and --"

"You hurt him. That seems pretty simple to me."

Laura stepped back, feeling like she'd just been sucker punched. All right, so she was right -- But the words never got easier for her to hear. "Look," she managed shakily. "I know you probably have opinions about what happened and what I did -- "

Carly shook her head impatiently. "We're not the same, Laura. If that's what you're trying to tell me -- or if you think I can help you get close to Nikolas --"

"That is NOT what I'm doing!" Laura's eyes ignited. "I know my son better than that."

"Yeah? So, what's this about?" she asked, bluntly. "I mean... You came here to find out about Nikolas... Let me tell you, I know a hell of a lot more about him than Bobbie does. Likes, dislikes, birthmarks..." She cocked her head to one side. "What do you want to know?" Laura flushed, which was exactly the response Carly was hoping for. "You don't want to know about him, do you?" She stepped forward, hands on her hips. "You want to know about me. You want to know what kind of voodoo I had to work on your first born's head to get him to marry a girl like me."

"Carly..."

"Well, I'll tell you," she met the woman's eyes with a steely gaze. "The secret's in the chicken feet. Most people, they'll use anything they can get their hands on. You know, something old and dried out that's hanging around in a drawer some place. They might not even be from chickens. They could be from roosters, and that'll really change your end result. But me?" She wrinkled her nose. "No. I took one look at that rich, studly boy of yours and knew that the extra effort would be worth it. If you really want something like this to work... " She stabbed the air for emphasis, "You gotta kill the chicken yourself."

Laura was now looking at her like she was an absolute raving psychopath. "I..."

"Throw in a full moon, a gris-gris, and some truly great sex, and you're set for life."

"Carly," a stern and disapproving voice spoke up behind her. Carly cringed internally, but just gave Laura a smug smile and hoped she didn't notice that her hands were shaking.

"Mama," she spun around on her heel. "I was just having a quick chat with my new Mother-in-law. She has some questions, apparently."

Bobbie crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. "Well. I hope you gave her a grain of salt to help her swallow all that garbage you're spewing."

Carly's face heated immediately. Thanks for the support, Mom, she thought. "Look, Bobbie, if you want to play Answer Lady, be my guest. You can give her all your little pet theories, but you want to know the truth?" Carly looked back and forth between the two women, sudden tears shining in her eyes. "No one knows a damn thing about me and Nikolas. And I don't have the time to draw anyone a map."

Bobbie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Carly..."

"I have things to do," Carly shot Laura one final look. "Here's a news flash for you to share with your friends. Nikolas and I are moving to Spoon Island tomorrow. And I have to pack."

"Carly!" Bobbie tried to catch her daughter's arm as she passed, but Carly wrenched herself away. "Carly, come on --"

"I'm done here, Bobbie," she hissed as she walked out of the room. "I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Both Laura and Bobbie watched the place where she'd disappeared, until they heard the front of door of Carly's apartment slam. Laura shook herself, then took a step towards her sister-in-law.

"I knew I should just stay away. I really did, I'm sorry, Bobbie."

"Laura," Bobbie sighed, turning around. "I know Carly comes off --"

"She cares about him," Laura looked over at Bobbie with a thin smile on her lips. "She must if she's suddenly so angry with me. And that's all I really needed to know."

The last time Nikolas had been alone with Robin, it had been a week before her wedding. They'd taken a walk in the park. She'd been wearing blue, had smiled through everything she said and had a hard time keeping her hands still. She'd talked herself breathless about the wedding. Apologized repeatedly for her obsessiveness. Nikolas had left her company wondering how much he'd end up regretting just standing and listening. If he'd spend the next decade wishing he'd made one last attempt to stop her from marrying another man.

As they arrived at her office, though, he was thanking whatever Savior of the Hopelessly Stupid had been looking out for him that day, because this was unbearable enough as it was. They were flunking out on small talk and it looked like she was about to break a sweat with the effort of not saying anything that qualified as 'big talk'.

"Here it is," Robin threw open the door, obviously happy to have reached their destination. "My new home."

Nikolas sidestepped past her into the office. It was a large room, with freestanding desks scattered around. Computers were on, suggesting that the other occupants were elsewhere in the hospital. Robin crossed the room, heading straight to the window, acting under the influence of some compulsive need to adjust the Venetian blinds.

"This is beyond the call of duty, Nikolas," she said, tossing her purse onto a small work station.

"It's an excuse to put off the inevitable," Nikolas crossed the room and heaved the box down on the desk top. "You're doing me a favor... What have you got in here, anyway?"

"Bare essentials, I swear," she laughed, twisting the rod on the blinds to redirect the sunlight. "But I really owe you for the help. That box almost took me out before I even got to the nurse's station."

"Well," Nikolas turned to face her. "It was my pleasure."

She turned and flashed a smile back at him. A smile that used to make his stomach contract. It did today, too, but for entirely different reasons.

"Nikolas..."

"Robin," Nikolas was a breath behind her, cutting off the sentence. He could tell from the strained look in her eyes, what was coming. He gave a wane smile. "You look like you've got a Carly speech inside you that's fighting to get out."

Robin winced. "Why do I get the feeling that's not an invitation?"

Nikolas shifted his weight. "I was actually going to thank you for your restraint."

She nodded. "I guess you've been listening to a lot of Carly speeches lately."

Nikolas had, actually, only made it all the way through one speech on the evils of Carly and it had been delivered by the woman herself. Long and detailed, delivered on the airplane with her eyes fixed on the window. He'd disregarded it, and he wasn't about to start reevaluating that decision based on other people's opinions.

"People have a lot of opinions," he allowed.

"Yeah..." Robin pressed her palms together and rocked back on her heels. "Let's not do this, Ok? I mean... We don't have to let things get weird, right?"

"Is that what we're doing?"

"I don't know," she frowned. "It's just... Ok, I admit, you surprised me the other night. I think I can say I didn't see that coming. But we've stayed friends through some pretty rough times and ... I'd hate to lose that. I really would."

Nikolas leaned back against the desk, and was happy to find it where he expected it to be. This was new. Robin hadn't ever expressed this much interest in their continued relationship.

"I..." He tried to work out what he wanted to say. "It's just..."

"I know, Carly's probably said some things about me that are less than flattering. She and I have this really complicated history and --"

"So do you and I," Nikolas cut her off. "Which is the part Carly might have a problem with."

Robin looked, momentarily, surprised, then turned away quickly. "Oh." She took a breath. "Oh."

"But..." Her eyes came back to him and they looked hopeful. Nikolas wondered why that still got to him. He continued, speaking carefully, giving each word it's space. "We're going to be crossing paths here, and I have no... interest... in setting up some kind of line that can't be crossed. I don't think that's necessary."

"Wow," Robin blinked. " That sounds so... Formal."

"I don't mean it to be."

"No," she shook her head in agreement. "No, I understand. This is just all pretty... I guess I'm in a bit of shock." She started to absently play her necklace. "I mean, I didn't know you and Carly even knew each other, and I really didn't know you were involved. I didn't even see you together at the wedding or anything and..." A breath. "I'm babbling. I guess I'm just confused."

Nikolas allowed a small smile. "You're not alone."

There was a long silence.

Robin narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

Nikolas let out the breath he'd been holding. "It's not personal, Robin. I don't feel comfortable sharing the information with anyone right now."

"What," Robin gave a small laugh. "Is this a Cassadine thing or something?"

"I still have to see what the lay of the land is."

The smile faded from Robin's face. She sat down on the edge of the neighboring desk, hard. "I didn't know you and I were subject to those rules. I've never heard you talk like that before."

"I've never married a Spencer before."

Robin stared at him while she absorbed what he'd just said. "Right," she said, finally. "I didn't think of that. I always just think of Carly as being... Carly."

"That's how I think of her," Nikolas felt a smile creeping onto his face. "But some people don't see it that way."

"So that's why... You kept it a secret." She waited for his confirmation. None came. "You can't say anything about that either."

"It's how it has to be right now."

"You're..." Robin looked at him questioningly. "You're really protective of her."

"She's the most important thing in my life." The words just appeared in Nikolas's mouth, but the moment he'd said, them he knew they were right. They were true.

Robin's eyes flitted off to the side, resting on the plant in the corner. Her mouth turned down, and for just a moment, Nikolas imagined that she looked hurt.

"Robin?"

She looked back up, biting her lip and looking more apprehensive than anything else. "Uh huh?"

Nikolas stood up. "Look, I can count the number of friends I have in this place on one hand. And I think I just lost a few of them in the past week."

"Let me guess. Emily?"

Nikolas flinched. "I don't think any Quartermaines are big fans at the moment."

Robin started to say something, then stopped. "No," she agreed, finally. "I can't imagine they are."

"What I'm trying to say," he shook off the unsteady feeling this whole conversation was stirring up inside of him, "I'm not looking to lose any more."

She smiled, but it was dim. "Hey, we made it through breaking up. We should be able to make it through being married to other people."

"I just need you to understand that I have to make sure my wife feels secure. And for right now, that's my priority."

Something Nikolas couldn't name flickered across Robin's face. "I hope Carly realizes how lucky she is," she spoke slowly. Nikolas didn't answer. He wasn't sure what to say when a woman who had once dumped him called his wife 'lucky'. She raised her eyes to his, and he felt himself go cold. "I just have one question."

Nikolas felt his heart drop into his stomach. It was something in her voice, something in her eyes... and something that just came from knowing her. From being exposed to her life for so many years. But he cleared his throat, and said "What's that?"

Robin stood up, and tipped her face up to look directly in his eyes.

"Is Carly going to pay you the same respect where my husband is concerned?"

Carly stared out the window of her apartment, at the back garden. She hadn't been out there since the morning Nikolas had pulled her out of her window. Kissing her good-bye -- that had been the idea. She'd had an inkling then, that she was in trouble, but it was amazing how far all of this had spun out of her control since that morning. She probably could have walked away from him, then. She could be existing in some kind of numb cocoon right now. Instead, she was living like she was trapped on a hamster wheel and just couldn't seem to get it to spin, no matter how hard she ran.

"Carly."

Bobbie stood in the doorway to Carly's apartment, one hand on the door, the other on her hip. At the window, Carly wiped tears from her eyes before turning back to her mother. She set her jaw and tried to keep her voice as flat and emotionless as possible.

"I don't want a lecture."

Yeah. That worked. Her voice sounded like it was being fed through a wood chipper. Bobbie just raised an eyebrow in response.

"Well, that's a surprise."

"I'm here to pack," Carly stepped away from the window, her eyes darting around the room. "By tonight, I'll be out of your hair for good, and you won't have to go around apologizing for me anymore."

Bobbie watched her daughter's almost robotic movements and felt an ache in her chest. As much as Carly's affection for self-abuse frustrated her, she knew where it came from. And she wished to god she could do something to stop it. She took a step into the apartment. "Do you want any help?" she asked gently.

"Yeah!" Carly snapped, redirecting herself to the kitchen. "Got a match and a tank of gas? We could have this done in minutes."

Bobbie took a deep breath. This was going to be hard. "Carly, the only reason I --"

"It'll be nice, won't it?" Carly moved towards the kitchen, her veneer -- such as it was -- falling fast. "Not to have me around embarrassing you?"

"Carly, it's not me you're embarrassing."

"Oh, it's myself then?" she spun around and faced her mother from behind the counter that separated the tiny kitchen from her tiny living room. "What? Are you going to tell me I should have more respect than that? Thanks, Virginia -- That's a real help."

"Sweetie..." Bobbie moved across the room towards her. "Carly, come on."

"You know, if you don't like the way I defend myself," the tears were falling now, "You might try to help me out!"

"I was upstairs!"

"You weren't going to stand up for me, though!" Carly insisted. "You were just going to say I'd lost my mind, and Nikolas had lost his mind and --"

"How do you know what I was going to say?" Bobbie asked. "Excuse me, Daughter of mine, but if you're accusing me of thinking the worst of you, you might want to board up your glass house first." Carly snorted in response, and started opening and closing cupboards, as if there was something in them she desperately needed. Bobbie shook her head. "I just don't understand why you feel the need to constantly humiliate yourself --"

Carly choked on a laugh and slammed one of the doors. "Right. I screwed up again. Wonderful."

"You told your husband's mother that he was with you because the sex was good!" Bobbie exclaimed. "Carly, come on."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" she started on the drawers, yanking them open and shut. "She comes here to try to figure out what the hell her son is thinking and I'm supposed to do what?"

"Walk away?"

"I tried that!" she turned her attention to the counter top. "It didn't take."

"Look, honey... " Bobbie took a step forward, but stopped when Carly shot her a vicious look. She put up both hands. "Laura's the one who screwed up with Nikolas. She knows that. There is no reason for you to feel threatened by her!"

"No?" Carly reached out and picked up a canister off the counter, and opened the lid. Sugar. "So I should just leave it alone and let her think I'm some kind of whore out to ruin Nikolas's life?"

"HOW," Bobbie smacked a hand down on the counter top, "does suggesting that Nikolas married you in some lust-crazed fog change that opinion? If that's even what she's thinking in the first place!"

"Of course that's what she's thinking," Carly hugged the canister to her chest. "It's what everyone is thinking!"

"Oh, give us some credit," Bobbie scowled. "I know what you're capable of, Carly. I know what one of your schemes looks like, and if you were really after Nikolas for his money, his reputation or any of that, you would not be biting off the head of anyone who asks you a question!"

"She said I was like her!" Carly turned to face Bobbie head on. "She said I should know what it's like to want to know how your son is, even if you can't talk to him."

"Oh, boy..." Bobbie closed her eyes. Good move, Laura. Step right on the trip wire, why don't you?

"Like it's the same thing! Like leaving Nikolas when he was..." Carly's face crumbled, and she bowed her head, burying it against one hand. Bobbie moved forward immediately, her arms coming around her daughter's shoulders. Carly pulled away, still clutching the canister.

"Carly?"

"It IS the same thing!" Carly's voice had suddenly gone up into the regions of hysterical. "I left Michael when he was a few days old!"

Bobbie gaped, then struggled to work her way back. "Carly, that was a completely different situation!"

Carly shook her head vehemently. "No. No -- I just left him with Jason and I took off! Don't tell me you didn't think I was a horrible mother for that, Bobbie!"

"Oh, who gives a damn what I thought!" Bobbie reached out and put a steady hand over her daughter's shaking ones. "You were scared. And you came BACK for Michael."

"Yeah, I came back to live with him and his uncle !" Carly let out a high pitched laugh. "I mean, come on! They do talk shows about this! It's the oldest story in the book --" She stopped suddenly, sucking in her breath in horror. "I'm like his mother. Nikolas married his mother! He doesn't even LIKE his mother!"

"You are not like Laura!" Bobbie protested. "I have known that woman a long time, Carly -- And I'm sorry to break it to you, but you're like ME."

"Bobbie --"

"The biggest mistakes," Bobbie spoke forcibly over her daughter, "Laura made with Nikolas were after he came to Port Charles. After he was grown!"

"No," Carly was determined not to listen. "No. You don't get over having a parent leave you -- No matter what happens, you just don't -- It's a part of who you are! And that doesn't change no matter WHAT happens if you find them again!"

There was a long silence only broken by the sobs Carly was trying like hell to suppress. She didn't look at her mother, instead stared at the opposite wall. Bobbie took a deep breath, then moved her hands around the canister. Carly made a feeble attempt to hold onto it, then relented and let her mother take it. Bobbie set it aside, then turned back to her daughter, taking both her hands.

"You understand that," she admitted, softly. "You understand that like no one Nikolas has ever known could. That's what he cares about."

Carly's eyes were still fixed on the wall. A nice idea. And something about it felt true. That they understood something in each other -- that there was a sameness about them. She saw it in those moments where she exposed herself and his only real response was to hold her. But she wasn't doing the same thing for him -- not in any way she could see. And even if she was...

"I didn't mean to do this," Carly's raw voice just spilled out of her. "I was just lonely and he was there and he understood how I felt."

Bobbie slid an arm around her daughter's shoulders. When Carly turned and fell into her mother's embrace, her head on the woman's shoulder.

"I know," Bobbie soothed, rubbing her back.

"I did seduce him," she said, weakly. "He was alone and miserable, and I was alone and miserable, and it made sense for one night to..."

"You don't have to explain this to me, Carly."

"I know that!" Carly spat, pulling back. "I can't explain it to MYSELF, let alone everyone else!"

Bobbie took a fortifying breath. Time to be the mother.

"Carly..." she reached out and took Carly's face in her hands. Carly tried to push away, but it was a feeble attempt at best. "I love you. That hasn't changed. And I don't want us to fight about this. You think I've decided you're crazy for marrying Nikolas -- Fine. Maybe I had a hard time with it at first. But I've seen you together. I understand it now."

"Then can you explain it to me?"

Bobbie smiled. "It just happens sometimes. You get hit over the head with it. You weren't expecting it, you didn't see it coming -- it's the oldest story in the world. You find it when you aren't looking for it."

Carly shivered at the intimation. The nebulous 'it'. She extricated herself from her mother's grip and rubbed her face with her hands. It was hot and wet from crying. Her eyes hurt. She reached out and pulled a paper towel from a roll mounted under the shelving.

"So does anyone ever charge it with assault?" her voice was still shaking. "Is it supposed to mean sunshine and flowers? Because right now, I feel like hell."

"Honey," Bobbie intoned, softly. "It feels how it feels. Just hang on and try to get through it in one piece."

Nikolas ignored the light knock on the open office door. He was signing papers. Signing papers was about the only thing he felt capable of right now. Looking over by-rote documents and affixing his name to the bottom. Usually, he loathed it. He'd been doing this since childhood. But right now it was mindless and empty, and it kept him from throwing something through the nearest window. In a normal week, GH afforded him a break from the rest of his life. From business meetings, conference calls, and Cece. A day when he did not wear a suit, and did not have to negotiate with anyone. Today wasn't working out that way.

The visitor cleared her throat pointedly. He knew who it was. And he wasn't entirely surprised. But if he engaged this person one second before he was ready, he was going to do something idiotic.

"Nikolas."

He held up a hand, but didn't look up. He was angry. Didn't make sense, but there you have it. It had been simmering inside him since he'd left Robin's company, and was only growing as he tried to reason against it. Amazing. You figure out you aren't in love with someone, fall in love with someone else, and you're still enraged at the mention of the same name. At the inference that he never quite stood as tall as Jason Morgan. It brought out parts of himself he wasn't very fond of, made him feel raw and exposed. Reminded him, once again, of why Robin had been such a wealth of pain the first time around. God, he'd thought Carly was going to take this feeling away from him. A few hours out of her presence, and it was eating a hole through his gut with a ferocity he hadn't felt in some time.

Nikolas turned the last page of the document he was (not) examining. He signed it with automatic movements, the letters not passing through his head, just appearing in black ink on the page. When he finished, he put the cap back on his fountain pen, then replaced the pen in a box that sat to his left. This fastidiously attended to, he finally raised his eyes to Monica Quartermaine.

"I'm sorry," his voice sounded like it was coming from another being entirely. "I had to finish that."

Monica looked at him a long moment, eyebrows raised, before she nodded. "Can I come in?"

"Leave the door open," Nikolas sat forward in his chair. Well. This was going to be fun. "Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Quartermaine?"

"I don't know," Monica stepped forward and put both hands on the chair in front of the desk. "I'm not sure if you've heard the rumors circulating, but I thought it would be best if we addressed them before things escalate."

Nikolas kept still, his eyes not leaving the woman's face.

"I don't listen to rumors."

"Clearly."

There was no mistaking Monica's tone. The sharp edge was there. The bitterness barely concealed. Emotionally driven. Sloppy. Even she seemed to realize what a misstep it was, and tried to regroup.

"Nikolas... You're a nice man --"

"With all due respect, Dr. Quartermaine, how could you possibly know what kind of man I am?"

She looked taken aback. Nikolas didn't look away. His heart was thundering in his chest and it took every bit of self control he had to keep his breath steady -- to keep his face blank.

"Nikolas, you have to know this is a very serious situation for me."

Anger, meet focus. Focus, anger. Nikolas's head swam, and he felt the hot surge of in his belly. Serious for her. This woman. This woman and her family, keeping a child away from his mother, and looking at him as if he was the evil goblin in a fairy tale about to snatch the child away on the promise of a first born.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I didn't come here to start a fight," Monica put on a look of concern, but Nikolas didn't buy it. She'd come to find something out. That was plain. She was holding onto that chair like it was a life raft, and she seemed to think that calling him nice was a good idea.

"I think maybe you're wasting your time here --" he started, his voice sounding more impatient than he'd wanted it to.

"My family --" Monica cut in, "has been in an uproar since your visit on Saturday!"

Nikolas closed his eyes. God give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

"Now, while you've been a friend of the family for years... And while we work together..."

The courage to change the things I can...

"I think it's important that you realize that we are not about to roll over and play dead if you and Carly have any intention of going after my grandson."

And the strength of will not to bite this woman's head off.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

"This isn't appropriate," Nikolas held up his position in the hospital as a shield between them, the only one that seemed effective at the moment.

"Well," Monica straightened up, putting her hands on her hips. "That has never stopped my family before."

"All right," Nikolas's jaw was so tight, he half expected it to snap. "Then realize that I will not bring this into the hospital. I will not bring it into any personal relationships I might have within your family --"

"This is as personal as it gets, Nikolas."

"Yes." Do not raise your voice, he told himself. Do not move. Do not let her know what you're thinking. "It is."

"That woman," Monica's face was becoming flushed, "has put both my sons through hell --"

"That woman," Nikolas cut her off, giving up on propriety, and rising to his feet. "Is my wife. And if your son has any concerns about the legitimacy of his claim to Michael -- or of the present status of the custody arrangement -- then that is not my problem. If you want to start swapping horror stories, and taking sides, I'm more than capable of joining you," Deep breath, "But this is a place of business -- we both know that -- No matter how angry your family might be, there is no excuse for this."

Monica's eyes glittered. God, she was furious. Nikolas hadn't actually seen the full fire of hatred Carly could inspire in some of this city's residents, and it only served to make him angrier.

"Nikolas," Monica's voice was deep with suppressed rage. "This is about expectation. If you and Carly want to take AJ to court again, we can handle that. Handling is all the Quartermaines do! But you can't hang this over our heads and expect us to --"

"Is there a problem, Dr. Quartermaine?"

Nikolas and Monica's heads turned to the door with equal surprise. Stefan was standing in the doorway, the epitome of calm. Still Waters in a black suit. Nikolas leaned forward, palms down on the desk, and dropped his head.

"It's fine," he sounded far more strained than he wanted to.

"I'm sure it is," Stefan entered the room the same way he spoke. Smooth, and somber.

"Well," Monica looked at the intruder pointedly, then back at Nikolas. "Am I right in assuming this conversation is over?"

Nikolas didn't move. He didn't trust himself to even speak. He just stared at the desk and waited for the inevitable exit.

"I believe my son has said all he intends to on the topic for the moment."

At that, Nikolas raised his head. He ignored his father pointedly and spoke directly to Monica.

"I'm not holding anything over your head. I've been married five days, Dr. Quartermaine. I know everyone has their speculation about how and why -- but right now, this is between my wife and I. No one else," he exhaled, and pushed himself off the desk. "I simply don't have the answer you're looking for."

A series of emotions flew across Monica's face as she absorbed that statement. She finally settled on barely repentant dignity, and raised her chin.

"I'm sorry, Nikolas. I let my imagination get the better of me."

"My family has a history of inspiring that," Nikolas wished he could muster a smile, but none was forthcoming. "Let's attribute this to a long day and leave it at that for now."

"For now," Monica folded her arms. "I suppose I'll see you at the Nurse's Ball."

"Yes, I'll be attending with my wife," Nikolas shot a quick glance at Stefan, who was watching Monica with interest. Or what Nikolas knew to be the way interest rested on his father. "We're not going to have to do this again, are we?"

Monica flushed, then turned away. "You know where I'm coming from, Nikolas."

"Yes, I do," he ran a quick hand through his hair. "Could you close the door on your way out, I need to speak to my father."

She looked back at him, caught his eye. She looked almost desperate, covered with a thin sheen of anger. Well, he thought, one thing he'd definitely have to give this day. People did seem to be looking at him through new eyes. She departed, with only the most cursory of good-byes, and Nikolas watched after her through a closed door until his father spoke.

"Nurse Vining said that you wished to speak to me."

He turned away, dropping all pretension of indifference. "I had that under control,"

"I have no doubt."

"You didn't have to come in and rescue me."

Stefan blinked. "Was that what I was doing?"

Nikolas took a breath. Nope, still furious. Let's try that again. "What do you want?"

There was a long silence, which he soon realized was due to the fact that Stefan had stated he'd been summoned here by Nikolas -- not the other way around. He could feel a tremor making it's way up his arm, and shook it off violently.

"Take hold of yourself, Nikolas," his father's voice was close and gentle.

"Go to hell."

Nikolas turned and walked to the window, effectively pushing Stefan away. He stopped there, and covered his face with his hands, taking in a careful breath, pulling it deep into his lungs, into the pit of his stomach, then exhaling. The real hell of this was that his father was right. He was losing his grip, and the last place in the world to throw a temper tantrum was General Hospital.

"I'm sorry," Nikolas raised his head from his hands, and let his eyes meet with the skyline. "I didn't mean that."

"You were agitated."

"Wouldn't you be?" he turning around. "But then, look who I'm speaking to."

Stefan gave him an appraising look. "Are you insulting me to further a point, or do you expect me to take on the role of your punching bag?"

Nikolas's stomach contracted. He was feeding his frustration with everyone else into his father. What's more, he knew he was doing it, but he was so infuriated with the man in front of him, he couldn't seem to put a lid on it.

"I hate it when you do that," he moved away from the window. "You know that. But you still do it."

"She was out of line."

"Yes, she was!" his voice cracked. "And I'd told her that. I can take care of myself, I can take care of my wife, and ... " Nikolas stopped just as his voice started to escalate. Damn it.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Oh, you KNOW what I want to speak to you about!" he paced the length of the room as he spoke. "You've known this was coming since Sunday when you planted that idea in Carly's head about Spoon Island. And whatever else you said to her when you got her alone. You win, all right? Checkmate."

"It's not my intention to upset you."

Nikolas gave a hollow laugh. "Then I guess that's just an added bonus."

"Nikolas," Stefan's voice was injured. Nikolas knew he was getting off easy. His father was putting up with more disrespect than he'd tossed at him in a long time. He moved over to his father, standing directly in front of him. Best to go right to the point before he pushed things any further than he already had.

"I want some things clear. One thing, actually." He raised his eyes and met his father's full on. "If anything happens because we have trusted you, if anything happens to my marriage because I moved her to the island -- and I lose her -- We will end." He watched his father's eyes. Saw the shock that went through them. Well, he was hearing him. They had that much. He continued, his voice as even as he could manage it. "She is my wife. I love her. You know that. And if you do anything to take her away from me," tears were gathering in his eyes, but he refused to submit to them. "If you do anything to manipulate this situation, I will cease to be your son."

It wasn't an empty threat. The way Nikolas felt as he said the words, he knew it was true. This was the line. The one line he had that could not be crossed. Stefan could lie to him for a lifetime, he could play his uncle and leave him fatherless. He could scare away everyone who ever tried to get close to him. Nikolas would never stop loving him. But if his father didn't understand this, then he didn't understand who he was. He couldn't survive losing this woman. He'd known that from the moment he'd known he was in love with her.

'You are determined to believe I am out to hurt you."

Stefan said the words as if they were gospel. Maybe they were. His father protected him as reflex, and at this point Nikolas wasn't sure he could stop if he wanted to.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" He pressed.

Stefan nodded, slowly. "I can promise you this. I will put you first in all matters. Your well-being and soundness of mind."

Nikolas let out a strangled laugh, and stepped back. "Where have I heard that before?" he nearly stumbled back to sit on the edge of the desk. His hands gripped the edge of it, and he moved his eyes to the floor. "You kept my mother away from me for that same reason."

Stefan moved forward, swiftly, closing the distance between them. "As you have pointed out, Carly is a far cry from Laura." Nikolas nodded. He couldn't speak any more. His throat was so tight, he wasn't sure he could breath. His father's hand touched his shoulder and he flinched. Stefan did not back off. "Have you forgotten that I love you, as well? Have you forgotten that we are nearly all the family either of us has in the world?"

He swallowed painfully. "No."

"I love you as I have never loved anything. I feel your pain as if it were my own."

Nikolas choked, and bowed his head. He was not going to cry. He was going to implode in on himself, maybe, but he was not going to cry. His father moved forward and pulled his head down on his shoulder. Nikolas allowed this, let himself lean forward a little, against his father.

"I love you, Nikolas," Stefan whispered into his ear. "In the end, this is what matters."

Carly threw herself back onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling of her former bedroom. She had to look at something uncluttered and empty -- the white expanse overhead was the only clear space afforded. It was late afternoon and the room had been torn apart. There were piles all over the place -- design books, and dog-eared paperbacks, stacks of old magazines. Papers -- worthless and meaningless papers -- breeding, pouring out of drawers and off counter tops. Cosmetics, moisturizers and perfumes cluttered together on top of the dresser. Carly had shoved the clothes she intended to take with her into one garbage bag, and clothes she hadn't touched in over a year into another. Her mother was out hunting down more boxes so that they could at least move a reasonable portion of this stuff out to the island tomorrow. Which, frankly, was pretty big of her. She obviously hated the idea. She'd started speeches about the Evils of Stefan Cassadine three times, and finally gave up when Carly threw one of her plates onto the floor in frustration.

Granted, after that, Bobbie had started in on the spiders. Mutants, apparently. In every corner.

Small mercies.

Carly groaned and put an arm over her eyes. There was so much stuff to do. Incredible, how much stuff she owned. Equally amazing how little she cared about it all. Garbage. Ninety percent of it, easy -- absolute garbage. Pointless and silly. God, she wanted to leave it all behind. Just torch it all, get a new start. That was how she usually handled moving. How much stuff had she carted from Tony's to Jason's? Not much of anything. And now she was remembering why. Everything in this whole place that really mattered to her could fit in a shoe box. She knew that for certain.

It had been calling to her. Had been all afternoon. That stupid box in the bottom drawer of the dresser that remained unopened. But she wasn't about to address it with her mother in the room. But now the house was quiet and the urge to go and look was beginning to stir. She lay still and let it creep into her, twist around inside her stomach.

Carly rolled off the bed in a sudden movement and landed on her feet in a crouch, just in front of her closet. The door was open. Shoe boxes... dozens of them. From back in the days where she wore something other than sneakers or sandals. She opened a box at random, revealing a pair of red slingback pumps that she had worn once. She picked them up, gave them a cursory examination, and then tossed them aside. Shoes for the needy. Like anyone defined as needy has the kind of life made better by red slingbacks. She'd tried that medicine. It didn't do a damn thing, in the long run.

Carly pivoted on the spot and stared hard at the bottom drawer of her dresser. It's just garbage, she told herself. You'll sort it all out, and this box goes on the dust heap.

She walked back over to the drawer and pulled it out on autopilot. The box was shoved near the back, under a sweater. She pulled it out, then flopped down on the floor and tore off the lid.

A plastic ring of keys lay on top. Large primary colored keys, on a green ring. Carly picked it up and twirled it around her fingers. Teeth marks. She put it down to her right, then picked up the box and dumped the contents onto the floor in front of her.

Deep breath. Don't think. Just do.

She went at it with lightening speed. Broke everything up into categories -- A, B, C. No pausing to let herself think, feel, remember. She let her eyes blur as the piles grew. Separating something that had always lived together for her. Her Lost Boys. She sorted Jason and Michael from each other. Categorized them. Like there were files instead of people she loved.

When she was done, she had three piles. The first one filled with pictures of Jason, articles about arrests, near-arrests, shootings, kidnappings... their life together. And then there were the boxes. A necklace. A pair of earrings he'd given her that one Christmas when they'd actually been together. And... And then their was that first Christmas gift... tucked into a box now like it was a priceless treasure.

The Michael pile was bulkier. Michael Mementos. She hardly had anything left. She wasn't together enough to do anything like keep a baby book -- wasn't entirely certain who those mothers were who did keep up with that stuff. Granted, they probably weren't in psychiatric institutions for shooting their ex-lovers. But she'd saved things. Little things. Things she'd liked, or he'd liked, that he'd outgrown long before he was taken away from her. She hadn't wanted anything when that happened. It had all gone and she hadn't been thinking clearly enough to really know how much she was going to

The third pile was smaller. More precious to her, in days gone by. It consisted of five photographs. Two of Jason holding Michael... and the other three of all of them together. Their makeshift family.

Carly took a careful breath. Ok. What now? She did this because it didn't all belong together anymore, right? So... Don't look at it, don't think about it, just... put it in the box. That was a start. She turned her body away from all of Michael keepsakes, and focused on the ones she intended to rid herself of. She scooped up the photos, the articles and dumped them into the shoe box. The necklace and earrings... She picked up the boxes and sighed. She had no idea what to do with this. Toss 'em? Give them to charity? She'd have other jewelry, right? Not from Jason, but...

She wished that didn't still mean something to her. Just... the offhanded way Jason gave things like that. Like they were nothing, when no one had EVER ever done things like that for her before him. How there was nothing attached to the gift. Nothing expected back. On the other hand, not much expressed either.

Most of the time.

Carly let the boxes slide from her hands into the box with everything else, then picked up the last item. She lifted the lid and looked down at it. Simple brass keychain with the word "Caroline" inscribed in capital letters. It still broke her heart to look at it. Made her breath catch. All the stuff that piece of metal had meant, she had lost. But she still hung onto it like it was everything. The only symbol she really had of what she and Jason had been. That there had been a tangible connection. An understanding.

She looked over at the pictures, tears blurring her vision. She couldn't keep those pictures. There was just no way. She couldn't hang onto this and go forward. She picked up the photos in a quick grab, and tossed them into the box like they burned her. She stared at them a long moment, then realized the lights were dimming on her. She pulled air into her lungs so fast her head spun, then kicked the box away from her. It skidded across the floor and bumped against the corner of her bed.

She couldn't do this. Oh, God, she couldn't just let go of that. Just free fall into something else that didn't know how to be what she'd had before. Jason worked. He just did -- on some level, the three of them had fit. Yeah, it was weird and it was painful, but it was everything to her. And how the hell was she supposed to turn her back on it?

"You have to," she spoke to herself in hushed tones. You can't straddle the fence on this. You can't drive yourself crazy about losing Nikolas and then try to hang onto something that you can't have anyway! It's stupid. It's masochistic. And it's over.

Even as she took it from the box, she told herself this was stupid. She was moving on. She had been knocked upside the head by the dreaded "it" and there was no room in her life for meaning-ladden keychains. But she stuffed it in her pocket like a teenager shoplifting for the first time, and the moment that was done she felt better. It released something in her. It was a relic. That was all. She had to hang onto something! Just one small thing. If she did that, she'd be able to let the rest go.

She took a breath, and pulled herself up on her knees, crawling across the floor to Jason's box. She picked it up without looking inside and closed the lid. She held it in her arms a long moment, before moving back, slowly and purposely, to the dresser. She dug the clothes out and tossed them aside. God knows what her mother was going to do with this place, but she still had claim on it awhile longer. She could make those decisions later. Right now, this would live here. Away from her, but there if she really needed it.

Nikolas pushed the door to Carly's apartment open, cautiously. No one appeared to be home -- though there was shuffling upstairs. He didn't feel up to other people at the moment, so he'd stolen through the house, following that path he'd only taken once before. He reached her front door and found it half open.

The living room was in a state of chaos. There was a broken plate on the floor, but aside from that it was standard moving insanity. Boxes, newspaper, and pushed around furniture. He touched a quick hand to the couch as he walked past it on the way to the hall. He liked that couch.

He found her sitting on the floor of her bedroom, her back against her chest of drawers, her knees drawn up in front of her. Her eyes were fixed on her hands, which were holding a small bit of cloth -- a rag or... something. She was stroking it almost reverently, as if it held every possible answer. And then he knew what it must be. Baby clothes. Michael's clothes.

He leaned forward in the door frame, the floor creaking under him, and Carly looked up sharply. Her expression softened from angry to plain old sad when she saw him. Sad, and tired. Nikolas stayed at the door, not even sure how to approach her.

"Long day?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

She shook her head, and looked back at the sleeper in her hands. "You have no idea."

Nikolas stepped into the room. "I might just."

Carly smiled, but didn't look up. She lifted the sleeper to her nose and breathed in deeply. Her eyes closed.

"You know what it smells like?" her voice was so soft Nikolas felt like he was being initiated into some special order just by being allowed to hear it. He shook his head before realizing she wasn't looking at him.

"No."

Her eyes turned and met his. They were too bright. Shining. "A dresser drawer."

He moved towards her then, and her arms lifted as he approached. She grabbed his neck as he bent towards her, and Nikolas's arms

"I had a bad day," she murmured into his chest. Nikolas tightened his grip on her. He breathed in the smell of her skin.

"There's a lot that going around."

"You too?" Carly let out a sharp laugh and untangled herself from him. "What happened to you?"

"It doesn't bear speaking of," Nikolas shifted, and sat down on the floor beside her. "What about you?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, then slipped one hand into his. "Same thing." Carly looked over at him and Nikolas smiled, pulled on her hand in invitation. She moved over to him, climbing over the debris on the floor an settling herself between his legs, her back against his chest. His arms closed around her and she let out a long sigh.

"You're warm," she informed him.

"So are you."

"I missed you."

Nikolas closed his eyes. "Me too."

They sat like that for whole minutes. In silence, apart from the sounds of lawn mowers outside, and the occasional echo of footsteps on the floors above. The sun was still bright, but low in the sky, stretched out across the floor, across their legs.

Carly shifted against him, turning her face against his chest. "I am so tired, I could fall asleep right here."

"Mmm," Nikolas forced himself to blink his eyes open. "How much more do you have to do?"

She gave a low chuckle. "Have you taken a look around."

"So we're going to be here all night."

"Oh yeah," she raised her head to look up at him. "Tell me you aren't excited."

"Oh, I am," he pulled her closer to him. "But let's do this for a little while longer."

"I can handle that," she said, relaxing into him again. Nikolas loosened his hold on her, and let his hand drift along her body, lightly stroking along her arm, her neck. She laughed, and shifted a little against him. He moved his hand down to her stomach and splayed his fingers across her abdomen. Kept it there a moment, then started to rub slow circles. Carly opened one eye. "What are you doing?"

"Your stomach feels tight."

She giggled again. "Yeah, that's supposed to be a good thing. I've worked at that."

Nikolas lowered his lips to her ear. "Not that kind of tight. Tension tight."

Proving what he was saying, Carly's whole body went rigid. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... You're anxious about something."

Carly sat forward, and twisted around to look at him. "That goes both ways, He-man. You're not the picture of calm yourself." Nikolas just looked at her, expectantly. Carly rolled her eyes, then fell back against him. "Ok, I'm being a freak. You could at least look surprised." She reached up and slipped her hand around his neck. She pinched the muscles there a few times, and smirked up at him. "You're neck feels like steel."

"Keep doing that," Nikolas murmured. "That might change."

Carly laughed, and turned again -- towards him this time. She got up on her knees, cupped his face in her hands, and tilted her head up. Nikolas looked up at her, a small smile on his lips.

"I can think of better ways to relax," she promised, lowering her lips to his.

They kissed while smiling. Teasing light brushes and sweet nibbles on each other's lips. This was better. Universally better.

"WHOOPS!" Nikolas and Carly broke their kiss, looking up to see Bobbie standing in the doorway with several empty boxes. She grinned, and let them fall to the floor. "Hello, Nikolas. Didn't make it out the window quick enough this time, huh?"

"Bobbie," Carly warned. Nikolas, too tired to bother with being embarrassed, just pushed Carly's shoulders down so that she was sitting again. She leaned forward, placing her head against his chest, and gave her mother a big smile. "Nikolas is here."

"So I see." Bobbie stepped into the room. She was eying Nikolas in a way he was accustomed to -- it was her nurse look. "Nikolas, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like hell!"

"General Hospital," he told her, dryly. Bobbie made a face.

"Say no more."

"Mama?" Carly lifted her head from Nikolas's chest and looked up at her mother with big eyes. "You think maybe we can stay here tonight?"

Nikolas blinked. "Um... What?"

"Well," Carly looked back at her husband. "There is hot water -- and we're going to be packing until the middle of the night. Do you really want to go back to the boat?"

Nikolas didn't say anything a moment. It made sense.

"Bobbie?"

Bobbie was just staring at them. "The boat has no hot water?"

"Mama."

She shook out her head. "Of course you can stay here. Lucas is out tonight, we can order a pizza and pack until someone drops." She paused, then took a step backwards. "After... I leave you alone to... Uh... Finish what you started."

Nikolas tried to sit up, shaking his head. "We weren't starting anything --" he protested.

Bobbie just laughed and said "I'll be back when the pizza gets here! Dominoes, so keep an eye on the time."

Nikolas cringed as Bobbie exited the room.

"I hate that."

"Yeah, I've noticed that." She rose up on her knees again, and leaned her body against him and he let out a rumbling sigh.

"I don't hate this."

Carly laughed as he raised his head again and looked up at her, waiting for the promised kiss. Her smile faded as she gazed down at him, her eyes raking over his face. "Have I..."

Nikolas furrowed his brow. "What?"

She brought her hand up and slowly trailed it down his cheek. "If I haven't said it before? Marrying you was a really good idea."