Chapter Seventy-Six:
The Best Laid Plaaaaans

It was hard to know where to start.

Nearly two years, Carly and Bobbie had lived under the same roof. Nearly two years of constant interaction and fights heated and vitriolic enough to bring the roof down. Silences that could stretch on for weeks, ever-present sniping and a whole lot of locked doors. They'd still never been here. On opposite sides of a room, having barely spoken in over two weeks, and utterly without words.

"Lucas," Bobbie finally found her voice. "I've got three tons of groceries in the hall --"

"On it," he cut her off, sliding down the couch and exiting the room like a cat burglar. It spoke volumes that he actually did it without complaint. Even slid the door shut behind him. No doubt about it -- they'd been set up.

"Did he --" she started.

"He came to the island," Carly was starting to fidget. Twist her fingers around each other. "He thought... Well." She gave a weak laugh and gestured around the room. "Here I am."

"On purpose?" Bobbie cautiously took a step towards her daughter. Carly's response was to bite her suddenly trembling lip and her eyes filled with tears.

"Bobbie," she choked on the word and her mother flew across the room, dropping her the keys still clutched in her hand onto the couch and threw her arms around her daughter. Carly's arms went around her waist and she clutched at her mother tightly, burying her head in her shoulder.

"Oh, honey," Bobbie gasped. "Baby, I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too," Carly eked out. She tightened her grip and Bobbie gave up on conversation. Just let herself hold her daughter and thank God for that much. Her stomach had been tied into a tight ball of guilt and anxiety for the better part of a month over this girl. And for this moment she was going to soak up the relief that came with having her under her roof. Actually laying eyes on her and not feeling sick at the sight.

"Ohh," she breathed, extricating herself from the embrace. "Let me see you. Let me see how you are," she grabbed her daughters hands and stepped back to examine her daughter. "You look beautiful," she smiled unsteadily. "Your hair --"

"Yeah," Carly ran a hand through it self-consciously. "I'm trying that whole shampoo-conditioner thing now. I think it works."

Bobbie laughed in spite of herself. "You look wonderful."

She did. Little things, things probably only a mother noticed. She looked brighter. Her skin, her hair -- it had a shine to it now. She didn't look as hollowed out as she could, on occasion. Might have gained a few pounds, something to make her look more healthy. She was standing differently -- taller, maybe. And her eyes -- that was the really startling part. They were clear. She didn't know how else to describe it. There had been times, far too many times, over the past year where she'd look her daughter straight in the eye and feel like there was nothing there. Only a fog so thick she couldn't see through to the other side. But that wasn't there this morning. Worry, fear, nerves, yes. And all of that was incredible to see. Any easily identifiable emotion was.

"I tried to come see you," she started. "Did Stefan tell you?"

Carly flinched and Bobbie instantly felt her heart contract.

"No. No, he never got to that."

"Carly," she started, her face creasing in deep apprehension.

Carly pulled her hands out of her grip quickly. "Mama, don't --"

"No," Bobbie said, firmly. "Let me say this," she took a deep breath and then launched into a speech she'd had prepared for at least a week. "Ever since that night, I've wished there was some way I could fix what happened. If I'd had any idea that Robin was going to do that --"

"No one knew she was going to do that," Carly shrugged uncomfortably. Everything about her screamed 'more to the story'. As her daughter tried to pull away, Bobbie reached out and put her hand to her cheek. Carly turned back, warily.

"Carly," Bobbie adopted a frown as she scanned her daughter's face for some clue as to what she was feeling. She had hated all this distance and now that Carly was in front of her, her brain was tripping over itself, trying to address everything it wanted -- needed -- to know. "What's going on?"

Carly drew back. "What makes you think something's going on?"

Where to even start?

"The fact that you're here, for one thing. The look on your face, for another. And," Bobbie pulled in her breath. "I talked to Luke."

The sound of her uncle's name caused Carly's stomach to drop. All day, she'd been trying to come up with a way to finesse her way out of this mess. Ever since Nikolas had walked out on her and the full weight of what was unraveling around her had hit, she'd been looking for the trap door. So far, she was coming up empty.

She remained convinced, however, that there was a trap door. After all -- Everyone has their own special variety of stupid. For instance, a person might be able to explain the intricacies of organic chemistry while patting his head and rubbing his stomach -- but remain unable to start a conversation at parties. Carly's niche had always been best classified under foresight. She had none. It was her essential paradox -- She could manipulate people with impressive skill when she wanted to. When her motives were cool and distant and her head was in exactly the right space. And whatever that space was, it was illusive and uncooperative. In the heat of any given moment, Carly knew, she was stupid at consequences.

One of the reasons she knew this, of course, was because her mother kept reminding her. Which only served to feed problem number two -- Carly was stubborn about her schemes. She always attacked them with a consistent forward motion. Retreat wasn't something she considered when she looked at her options. When plots went sour, she just held on tighter. In Carly's internal universe the captain always went down with the ship.

Unless, of course, she could find a lifeboat.

"So," Carly crossed her arms, adopting a posture that was equal parts defensive and assertive. "You heard."

"I've heard a lot of things, lately. I'd love to hear your version of events."

Carly gave a half-roll of her eyes. "Luke offered me a job -- you knew that. I just decided to take him up on it."

"After you married the town's youngest multi-millionaire. Carly, do I look stupid?"

Carly fixed her eyes on a spot on the carpet. She glared at it. Focused on wrapping a force field of irritation around herself. "I have reasons."

"Enlighten me."

"Well," Carly spoke with the exaggerated tone of someone who was trying to hold her patience and barely succeeding. That, in and of itself, was a lie. She knew none of this was going to fly with her mother. The best she could hope for was to illicit a little confusion. "It'll kill any rumors that I'm just after his money."

"No, it won't."

"Gee, thanks."

"You could work yourself into an early grave and never make a dent in the Cassadine pocket change! And waitressing? at Luke's?" Her mother shook her head. "You're not going to be living the lifestyle of a waitress and you know that. Everyone will know that and they're going to draw whatever conclusions they feel like drawing -- that isn't a good enough reason to..." She stopped dead mid-sentence. "Oh, God. Stefan tried to pay you off, didn't he?"

Carly looked up sharply. "HOW does everyone KNOW that?" She was thoroughly aggravated.

"Because it's Stefan -- That's what he does. Honey, that's no reason to do something irrational!"

"This isn't irrational!"

"You're married to a Cassadine and you're working for a Spencer," her mother pointed out. "That's not the product of lucid thinking."

"I am a Spencer. In theory." Carly looked at her mother belligerently. "Why shouldn't I work for one?"

Bobbie raised her brow. "How does Nikolas feel about this?"

Three point five minutes, maybe, since Bobbie had walked through the door and they had already landed at the heart of the matter. Record timing, and Carly's head spun as it tried to desperately discover the best direction to run in. Hang tough, pride intact, and lie, or... Throw herself at her mother's feet and beg for clemency?

"Look," Carly sputtered out, her ire taking a sharp left and hoping the rest of her would catch up, "There are reasons to do this, ok? and they're kinda good ones."

"Like?"

"Like," where was Alexis when she needed her? "Like the whole world things I'm crazy -- Like I haven't held down a job since I was pregnant with Michael! Like how everyone thinks the Spencers and the Cassadines are at each other's throats all that time!"

"I'm not seeing the connection."

Carly let out a growl of frustration. "Think about it," because God knows, she didn't feel capable of explaining it all. "It's important, ok?"

"To WHAT?" Bobbie stared at her in utterly confusion. "There are only two things I can think of that you need to worry about right now, Carly. Your health and your marriage. I don't see this being good for either!"

"You missed something," Carly glared at her, petulantly. "Michael."

Her mother stared at her blankly. "How is this about Michael!"

Damnit. Carly brought both hands up to hold her head. She couldn't believe she hadn't spoken to her mother in three freakin' weeks. The volume of missing information was incredible. "Ok," she took a breath. "Ok. If I tell you this, you can't freak out."

"I'm not making any promises."

Carly dropped her hands. "Mama!"

"Carly!"

"Fine!" She dropped down onto the couch in exaggerated exhaustion. Slouched into the pillows and folded her arms across her chest. She took several breaths, feeling her stomach bend into all sorts of new shapes before she found the air to push the words out on. "Nikolas and I are going to fight for custody of Michael."

Her mother didn't say anything. No gasp of surprise, no startled 'oh'. Just a penetrating stare. Truth was, Bobbie had gone numb somewhere around the word 'fight'. And it seemed best to just hold posture while she searched out her reaction.

"Full custody?" she asked, finally. Carly didn't look directly at her.

"You don't think I can do it."

"I didn't say that." Bobbie started to shake her head. "I thought this might..." shaky breath. "I thought this might come up."

Carly snorted. "Might?"

Bobbie just kept shaking her head. She hadn't let herself think about this too much. It was obvious -- it was one of the first things that had occurred to her, after Carly and Nikolas had announced their marriage. That Carly had married power and that lead to acquisition. That the only thing Carly really wanted was her son back. And that it had been a long time since Carly had been capable of fighting for anything. Finally, a solid and undeniable feeling made itself known. She was scared. She was scared about what this could mean for her daughter, what it could do for her. Even as she started to tell herself that the Cassadines got what they wanted and woe to anyone who stood in their way... She knew one thing when she'd seen her daughter sitting in her living room -- there was trouble. And embarking on anything this important when there was trouble felt like inviting disaster.

"Is that why?" Bobbie managed, finally. "Why you got married?"

Carly tucked both hands under her arms and stared sullenly at the coffee table. She didn't like the question. She didn't really like the possible answer, either. "I'm his mother," she spoke without really moving her mouth. "Everything I do is about him. Somehow."

Bobbie sank down onto the couch. Oh, God, the words kept running through her head. This has to work out. From day one, she'd felt that. From the conversation she'd had with Nikolas in the kitchen on, her prevailing feeling was that her daughter's marriage had to be a success because the other options were too scary to contemplate. And if Michael was brought into this -- in body as well as spirit -- the stakes just got higher. And... She could never say this out loud. She couldn't even intimate it, give Carly the slightest reason to suspect it... She wasn't sure Carly was well enough to have full custody.

It felt like a betrayal even to think that. Because she didn't agree with the ruling, she didn't think the Quartermaines were what was best for the child. And because she loved her daughter beyond the telling of it. But there were things in Carly that had to get fixed! If there had been any way for her to ignore or minimize before the court case, they'd vanished by the end. When Carly had her act together, she was a loving and devoted -- if not utterly emotional -- mother. The key element here was that she had to be together. And that wasn't a state she'd seen her daughter in for ages. The closest she'd come was watching Carly at breakfast the morning before the nurse's ball. That had been like getting a glimpse of what she could be. Affectionate, scheduled, happy. Bobbie had hoped that she was seeing what lay ahead. What Nikolas's influence could produce. But twenty-four hours later, that lay in shambles and she hadn't seen enough of her daughter over the past few weeks to feel that kind of hope.

But boy, she better put on the right kind of show. And she'd better do it fast.

"Nikolas is good with children," Bobbie finally let out on a sigh.

"Nikolas is great with children," Carly countered. Bobbie found the ability to form a small smile.

"He's met Michael?"

Carly squeezed her eyes shut like a sharp pain had just gone through her. She clapped one hand over her eye and just nodded slightly. "Michael loved him. Like, on sight."

"Good," she started nodding again. "That's good."

"I know."

Oh, to hell with it. Bobbie turned to face her daughter, hands kept clasped in her lap. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"Any chance you're not going to get on my case for it?"

"Carly," Bobbie said, heavily. "I've barely seen you since you turned up and announced you'd just gotten married. Every day I go to work, and I hear something new -- That Edward Quartermaine has suddenly resigned from the board. That you're not seeing Gail anymore! And now, suddenly, you're working for Luke? None of this makes any sense, no one has given me the slightest clue as to what's going on -- Except for Lucky --"

Carly sat up. "What does Lucky know about any of it?"

"Carly." Bobbie said, firmly. "You're here for a reason. I want to know what that is and I want to know what the hell is going on, that you think serving drinks at a Blues Club is 'important'. And, while we're at it -- What, exactly, did Stefan say to you?"

Carly sat back against the couch, glaring at her mother for a good thirty seconds before pitching herself forward, head hanging down over her knees and letting out a groan of utter frustration. She wanted to skip this part. It was going to include a lot of disapproving looks. Maybe even a lecture or two. But it was hard to see where she had a choice.

"Just let me talk," she finally lifted her head. "Then you can tell me why everything I do is wrong."

"Carly," Bobbie already had tone.

"Do you want to hear this or not?"

Bobbie gave an exasperated sigh and held up both hands. "Fine, fine. Go ahead!"

She tried to start with yesterday morning, but Bobbie broke faith and interrupted her, wanting to backtrack to the Gail issue. Carly had closed her eyes, sunk back into the pillows and blankly filled her mother in on everything. Well -- a judiciously edited everything. Starting with the decision to leave town. Veering briefly into the territory of musical therapists, before heading off into the drama of her father-in-law, and the accompanying fallout.

By the time she finished, she was curled up into a near fetal position -- knees drawn up to her chin, elbows resting there, hands sunk into her hair. Bobbie's lips, for their part, were pressed into a very thin line. She straightened her spine, then shook herself.

"Dinner," she said, finally.

"Yeah."

"With Stefan there. And Alexis."

"Yeah."

She shook her head. Then, because that didn't seem to have any real affect, she shook it again.

"Look," Carly started. "I know --"

"Do you?" her mother raised her eyes, looking at her daughter in sad amazement. "Do you really?"

"Yeah, I do," she slapped the back of her own wrist, hard. "Blind siding bad, naughty Carly."

"This isn't a joke!"

"Really? Are you sure?" Carly choked on a laugh. "Because when my husband stormed out and didn't come home until morning? I thought that was hysterical."

"Oh, Carly..."

"WHY do you think I'm here?" she demanded, untangling herself and shooting her mother an accusing look. "Why the hell do you think I told you all of that? I know I screwed up, ok? I'm really clear on that. What I'm trying to do is fix it!"

Anyone else on the planet, those words might have been something close to comforting. But coming from Carly, they did little more than send a chill creeping up her mother's spine. "How do you plan to do that?"

Carly's feet slipped off the edge of the couch onto the floor, and the rest of her body tumbled forward, arms draping over her legs and her eyes fixing on the carpet. "You just..." slight shake of the head. "You have to help me."

"You know I'll do whatever you need --"

Carly drew in her breath. "You have to help me get Nikolas to think this is a good idea."

Bobbie's eyes closed and she swore under her breath before sighing. "Oh, Carly -- come on --"

"Mama!" Carly twisted around and seized her mother's wrist. Her eyes were large and pleading. "Please! You have to!"

"No," Bobbie shook her head, firmly. "No, I don't -- I'm pretty sure that helping you do stupid things isn't in my job description. I haven't looked through the manual lately, but I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to do the opposite!"

"GOD!" Carly leapt to her feet, her whole body flaring in anger. "Why can't you EVER be on my side?"

"I am on your side!" her mother protested indignantly. "This is what your side looks like -- I don't know who's side you think you're on."

"Do you WANT me to lose him?!" Carly slide into the hysteria in record time . She felt something break loose inside her and suddenly she was right back at the previous morning. That sick, shaken feeling that had come with her father-in-law. That bone-chilling glimpse of her life without him. She pulled back pushing her hair back and fighting the tremor that was traveling from her hands, up her body and right into her heart. "I need him --" she said, unsteadily. "I can't... I can't go back to how things were before. And --" And there were the tears. She made a face as her chest tightened, pushing air and unspoken words out of her. "God, I just want things how they were before this happened."

"I'm sorry, Sweetie." Bobbie straddled the line between grim determination and empathetic. "I am. You have no idea how much. But you're twenty-six years old. It's time you realized that doesn't work."

"Don't patronize me."

"I swear I'll stop the second you start making sense!" Bobbie's patience was fraying. "What do you expect me to do? Tell Nikolas I think this is a good idea? I can't do that, Carly!"

"This isn't fair! I didn't start this -- I didn't do anything wrong --"

"You DID do something wrong!" she burst out, leaping to her feet again. "If you want to hold on to Nikolas you'd better start admitting that to him AND yourself! For God's sake, Carly -- you're married! You can't go off and make decisions like this without talking to him?"

"Oh, right. I'm just supposed to ask his permission for every little thing I do?"

Sometimes Bobbie honestly couldn't tell if Carly believed the things she said. Looking at the hurt and defensive expression on her daughter's face it felt cruel to force this conversation. But this was what Carly did EVERY SINGLE TIME she screwed up. You couldn't point out a single flaw in the logic without her immediately twisting your words around. Purposely, Bobbie felt, in an effort to hold on to a belief that no one really cared about her. They couldn't, if they didn't understand her. It made for a short trip to twisted self-justification and it made Bobbie want to shake her.

"Carly," Bobbie turned to her daughter and placed both hands onto her hips. "That's not what I mean and you know it! Don't try to turn this into something it's not."

Carly slouched against the far wall of the living room, staring down the barrel of Bobbie-as-Mom. She both hated and needed this part. This, she was more than aware of, thank you very much, Gail Baldwin. Every time Bobbie took it upon herself to do anything even remotely maternal where Carly was concerned, it pushed some big red button at the center of her. She'd come back with anything from disinterest to fury, and she'd thrown it at her so-called Mother as hard as she could. The only thing worse was the idea that one day, Bobbie would give up. Because even though it pricked and tore at deep wounds all through her, it was nothing compared to the fear of losing that. She'd had nightmares that assaulted her with images of her mother's potential indifference. Dreams where she was in pain, sick or dying, in danger -- and Bobbie just didn't care.

That was probably why it had hurt so much, when she'd realized her mother knew about Jason's baby. It was probably why she'd stayed away so long afterwards. And it was probably why a part of her hated every single person who Bobbie had ever agreed with over her.

Even, it seemed, if it was her own husband.

"I didn't start this," she pointed out to her mother, darkly. "He did." The tone of her voice left little doubt of who she was talking about.

"Well," Bobbie exhaled in some degree of concession, "You certainly shook him up."

"But I didn't DO anything!" Carly yelled back. "I wasn't even in town! I just came back, and --"

Bobbie was already shaking her head. "No. No, I know that. Something else set him off."

"Like what?"

"Nikolas being out of touch," Bobbie gestured vaguely. "The bruise on your wrist."

Carly started. "How do you know about that?"

"Ohhhh," Bobbie let out a quick, ironic laugh and turned away as she started to pace. "That made the rounds. It got it's fair share of publicity."

Carly followed her mother's movements with her eyes. "Because of Luke."

"Because --" Bobbie started, then abandoned the topic, instead spinning back to her daughter and demanding, "Why didn't you just tell Luke what had happened?"

"What do you think happened?"

"Edward Quartermaine?" Bobbie raised her brow. "That was the consensus."

Carly was starting to feel well and truly freaked. "How --"

"People talk!" Bobbie threw her arms out for dramatic emphasis. "Particularly, people at the hospital talk -- and you didn't answer my question! Why did you let Luke think Nikolas had hurt you?"

"I didn't!" Carly protested.

"Did you, or did you not offer any explanation for where those bruises came from?"

"Not," she shifted uncomfortably. "Because it was none of his business! I didn't invite him over -- he just showed up, in the middle of my life, the way he ALWAYS does, and started giving me hell! Why am I supposed to explain ANYTHING to him?"

"Because if you don't, he's going to draw his own conclusions!"

"So what?" Carly spit back -- it was a general reaction to discussing her uncle. "He can draw whatever the HELL he wants. It's not like he actually CARES about my life! It's not like he knows a damn thing about me -- I don't give a damn what he thinks, what he does, what he wants -- none of it!"

It was a heated and passionate outburst and it left Bobbie utterly mystified. "Then tell me, Carly..." she asked, holding her mouth tightly. "Why on EARTH are you going to work for him?"

It was the question of the hour. One she kept asking and Carly kept ducking. And from the look on her daughter's face, she knew the answer was worth something. And she didn't feel like sharing it.

"I told you," she argued.

"No. You told me what happened -- I don't know why it meant you had to go see Luke."

"Because," Carly forced an utterly humorless laugh. "It's pretty much what everyone does, right? Stefan Cassadine gets on your case, you go to Luke Spencer."

"Stefan Cassadine is your father-in-law."

"Yeah," Carly's voice started to shake. Again. Well, she thought, she'd been warbling her way through the first half of the day, why not the second? "And he's totally on my case anyway. So what am I supposed to do? Just ignore it? Just let him get away with it?"

"Well. Yeah. That would be a start."

"Mama!"

"No, hear me out! I want you to think about this." Bobbie looked directly into her daughter's eyes. Brow creased, gaze intent. "What do you think would happen if you'd just told him no and left it like that?"

"He'd try something else."

"Alright," Bobbie had to admit this wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "But Stefan isn't in the habit of disposing of people, it's not his nature. So what do you think he'd do?"

Carly felt herself heat. She didn't want to think about this. "He wants to get rid of me," she said, numbly.

"Apparently," her mother's voice was downright clinical. "But how is he going to do that?"

"YOU WEREN'T THERE!" A burst of rage exploded behind Carly's eyes. "You don't know the things he said to me! What he said -- what he did -- " her arms wrapped themselves around her stomach, like she was trying to physically hold herself together. To prevent her guts from tumbling out and spilling onto the floor. "I liked him," she gasped. "He made me like him!"

Bobbie felt sick. Swimming, suddenly, in a violate cocktail of protective-mother-rage and her own deep-running anguish on this topic. She couldn't believe this had happened. As much as she'd protected herself from Stefan Cassadine ever getting the chance to mindfuck her again -- he'd gone and done it to her child. It might as well been her own history repeating, for everything it made her feel.

"Carly..." she closed the distance between them, crossing to her daughter in a few quick steps. "Baby. I was there," she fought to catch Carly's eye. "Four years ago." Carly choked on a sob and covered her mouth with her hand. Clamped it tight and looked at her mother over her devastation. Something old and forgotten stirred inside Bobbie and she reached out, putting a hand on her daughter's arm. Rubbed it softly, offering comfort. Offering up the tangle of loose emotional ends that Stefan had left inside her when she'd realized who he really was. "This is what Stefan does," she spoke softly, steadily. No part of her wavered. "He's a master at it, he'll make you believe you matter to him -- And because you want it to be true, you'll believe it. I've been down this road with him. I know exactly how you feel."

"NO!" The word cut right through Bobbie, coming out in an agonized cry. Her angry and infuriating daughter was transforming into wounded animal in front of her. Bleeding to death before her eyes. "I trusted him," Carly's whole body shook as the words spilled. "I didn't even mean to, but... He listened to me, he..." The ache that crept up her throat and strangled her was unreal. She couldn't even bring herself to say just how awful this felt. Since the moment it had happened, she'd done everything she could to just not feel it. And now she was and it was horrible. She felt so incredibly stupid. That she'd ever believed, even for a second, that he cared about her. That he had ever seen her as anything other than a tramp. A terrible mistake his son had made.

"He was kind and understanding and he said the right thing all the time," her mother was speaking again. Quiet and calm in contrast her devastation. "And you could see how strong the love he had for Nikolas was, and you wanted to feel just a little of that yourself. You wanted to matter to him, am I right?" Bobbie's own eyes filled with tears as she reached out and touched her daughter's cheek. "Carly -- I was in love with him. I know how much it hurts when you find out he didn't mean any of it."

Dawning horror. Carly stared at her mother -- looked into her eyes and saw the ghost of past heartbreak. She swore under her breath. Bastard. He was such a... She pushed off the wall, stumbling the one step that existed between her and her mother and threw her arms around the woman. Offering comfort or taking it -- God knows. Both, probably. She stopped trying to hold onto anything apart from Bobbie. And when she felt her mother's gentle hand come up to stroke her hair and lost it completely. Sobbed helplessly against her shoulder. the kind of crying that takes so much out of you that it's not unlike a blackout. Everything stops -- suspends -- or ceases to exist until you come to again. In this case, when she lifted her head again, dizzy and still shaking from the violence of the attack, she found herself seated on the floor. Back against the wall, her mother sitting next to her and holding her hand. She let her head fall back and pressed her eyes shut. She was exhausted.

"I hate him!" she muttered, when she finally got her breath back.

"I know," Bobbie soothed.

"He was the only person who ever acted like I might not be the worst thing that ever happened to Nikolas. And because he was his father... I actually believed it for a second."

"Carly. I don't think you're the worst thing that ever happened to Nikolas." Bobbie gave her daughter's hand a squeeze. "You've got a ways to go before you even make it into the top ten."

Carly laughed slightly. "Give me time."

Bobbie frowned, watching her daughter's closed expression. "That's it, isn't it?" she murmured. "You think Stefan has more power over what happens in your marriage than you do? Or Nikolas?" She reached out and peeled a few strands that were glued to Carly's cheek back. "Baby -- Stefan can't make Nikolas stop loving you."

Carly turned wary eyes on her mother. "What makes you so sure Nikolas loves me?"

Bobbie smiled, wryly. Ah, young love. Insecurity's favorite breeding ground. "Honey," she spoke firmly. "It's written all over him. Open your eyes and take a look."

Carly looked momentarily hopeful, then turned away, shaking her head. "He's crazy."

"Why? Because he sees something of value in you?" She slid an arm around Carly's shoulders. "Because he treats you well?"

Carly exhaled. Looked up at the ceiling. "Ever hear someone say 'if it looks too good to be true, it probably is'?"

Bobbie didn't say anything for a long moment. Just gently rubbed her shoulder and stared at the same spot on the ceiling. Finally, she asked the question she'd been avoiding from the moment they'd broached this topic. "Do you love Nikolas?"

It probably meant something that those tiny words caused Carly's life to flash before her eyes. and it wasn't images of Jason that flew across her vision. It was pictures of something older and infinitely more terrifying. Something so long gone she could -- and wouldn't -- examine why her subconscious linked the two. She did know, without question, that Nikolas was the most overtly benevolent force to ever enter her life. And she knew in the same unshakable way that she didn't deserve him.

This was probably the paramount reason why.

"I don't know."

"Are you sure about that? Because I've seen the way you look at him, too."

Carly shifted uncomfortably. "Every time I fall in love, my whole life goes to shit."

"I know the feeling," Bobbie smirked. Then leaned her head over so that her cheek was pressed up next to Carly's. It was a warm and comforting gesture and she felt Carly sigh at it. She had to broach this carefully. take full advantage of her daughter's sudden pliant state. "What about Jason?"

What about Jason. Her brain could barely grasp the idea, in the tumult of her father-in-law's betrayal, her own battle-worn attempt to hold on to Nikolas. Jason seemed like abstract theory. Quantum physics, differential calculus.

"I used to think about Jason all the time," Carly spoke almost as if she was alone in the room. "Like first thing in the morning, last thing before I went to sleep." She blinked. "The last thing I thought when I went to bed last night was that Nikolas wasn't next to me. This morning..." She'd been thinking of him before she'd even waken up. It had been the first word out of her mouth. It had been a thought that had stayed with her all night. Her stomach lurched and she leaned forward and whined, "I'm so fucking confused."

"You're scared."

Carly didn't have the energy to deny it. Instead she twisted her fingers into a complex pattern. Stared hard at them. "I don't want to lose him." The full weight and truth of the statement landed in her stomach with a thud. She was screwed. She was so completely and utterly screwed. She let out a groan and dropped her head down onto her knee. "God, what am I going to do?"

"Be honest with him," Bobbie's simple reply came. "Tell him what happened, why it happened and then QUIT."

Carly didn't bother to lift her head. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

Her mother let out her breath. Then leaned over and pressed a kiss to the crown of her daughter's head.

"It always is with you."

Lucas was slouched in the window seat at the top of the first floor landing. Walkman blasting out the sounds of discord downstairs with it's own stylized noise, while he kept his eyes on the street below. How long did it take to get here from the downtown, anyway? He drummed out the beat of the song on his knee waited until he saw what he'd been looking for. He jumped out and was down the stairs in record time, with practiced stealth. Silent stair descent was a skill he was cultivating.

As was silent door-handling. He managed to slip out of the house unnoticed and was at the bottom of the steps to the street by the time the black jag slid into the parking spot across the street.

"You work fast," Nikolas said by way of greeting as he crossed the street.

"Practice," Lucas shrugged.

"Uh huh," his brother-in-law glanced up at the building behind them. "It's still standing."

"So far." He squinted up at the living room window. Couldn't see a thing save the reflection of light off the glass. "You wanna come in?"

"Thought you'd never ask."