BREAKDOWN

How could I stay....

On her third trip across the threshold of the building that housed the law offices of Feingold, Lewis, and Stephenson, she started talking to herself, thoughts of leaving running through her mind. 'Maybe I should have given him another chance, maybe I should stay... maybe...'

Another voice, much louder and stronger refuted those last second doubts. It was a voice born of betrayal. 'NO! Stop it, Marlena... you've finally made your decision and you're going stick with it! She took a deep breath and took two firm steps toward the elevator that would carry her up to the eleventh floor. Resolute, she repeated a phrase that had in essence become her mantra in recent months, 'John Black has hurt me for the last time.'

How could I breathe

There had to be more for me.....

Plopping down on a barstool at the Brady Pub, a woman who had been treated rudely by the subject of discussion, on several different occasions, voiced her thoughts about the situation in no uncertain terms. "Well, I for one don't find it the least bit surprising!. As far as I'm concerned he's had it coming for a long time," Maggie said snidely.

"Maggie!" exclaimed a chorus of shocked friends and relatives. It was unlike her.

She didn't tone it down in response. "I'm sorry, but he treated her terribly for most of their married life. If he's hurting now, well, that's just the way it goes. I say she should let him work it out for himself."

"I don't think she has it in her to leave him to fight this battle alone. He really needs her and she could never resist a man in need. Right Roman?" Bo said, hoping it would lighten the mood, but realizing immediately that he'd made a big mistake. Funny how being stressed out and pissed off all the time could lead you to say things you'd normally never say.

"Oh, shut up, Bo...and leave me out of this." Turning toward the others, including his parents, who stood behind the bar, Maggie's husband Mickey, and Abe Carver, who flanked him, Roman sighed worriedly and added one last thought. "I tried to warn her, but you know how she is."

Recognizing from their expressions that was something they all agreed on, Bo replied for the group, "Yep."

Heads nodded all around but no one offered further comment. Not even Caroline Brady, a woman who almost always had some words of wisdom in times such as these. But there was nothing more to be said. For several weeks it had looked like all that was left of the relationship was the filing of divorce papers, and then a settlement. And now, well, now there was more trouble brewing. John was experiencing intrusive flashbacks and drinking to avoid them, and by all reports of those who'd seen him lately, he was on the verge of a mental meltdown.

Promises gone

Plastic and stone

I'm doing fine all alone......

The elevator was passing the eighth floor and she continued her pep talk. "Here you go, Marlena... you're taking the first step toward a brand new life." She didn't say the words, but they came unbidden. Without John.

Taking another deep breath, she drew in air slowly and then gradually let it out--several times. It left her with a feeling of cleansing. She was ready. In another minute, she was in the office and checking in with the receptionist at the front desk.

Lost in thought, she didn't hear the man, for whom she was waiting, approach. "Hello, Doctor Evans, I'm Robert Feingold," he said, extending his hand once he'd caught her eye.

Shaking the proffered hand, she stood up and said, "Hello, Robert, it's nice to meet you too. Thank you for making time for me. And please, call me Marlena."

"Okay, Marlena, but that was the easy part. Mickey and I go back a long way and I was glad to take your case. It was wise of you to look for someone who has had no personal involvement with either party to the divorce action. Now, if you'll please come back to my office, we can get started," he finished, ushering her through the impressively appointed lobby and down the corridor to the right, heading for the corner office. The room with a view he called it.

Marlena sighed as she took in her surroundings, those of one of the most highly regarded law firms in the state. The desk, credenza, book shelves, and even the filing cabinets were made of teak wood, furniture obviously purchased before the cause of saving the rainforest made the evening news. She admired his taste in art as well, some very nice reproductions. Either that or the man had an even better practice than she'd heard.

Sitting down in one of two burgundy colored leather chairs in front of the large desk, completely cleared of all other files but her own, she found herself uncharacteristically ill equipped to discern her true feelings at the moment. There was a sensation in the pit of her stomach, akin to fear, and yet not. Was she merely feeling pangs of regret, questioning her decision, or perhaps it was just some lingering sadness about the disintegration of a love relationship she thought would last forever. 'Normal grieving for what you've lost. That's all it is,' she told herself.

Setting her mind to the task ahead, she listened as the attorney began laying out his strategy to obtain the most reasonable settlement he thought he could arrange within the timeframe Marlena wanted. "Now, if you'll just look over these figures, I'm sure you'll find this is a...." He was interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by the entrance of his secretary. "I'm sorry, Sir, but there's an urgent phone call for Doctor Evans."

She flashed him an apologetic look and said, "I have to take this, it could be about a patient. If you'll excuse me for just a moment, is there a phone I can use in private?"

With a warm smile, he said, "Of course, use my office, I have a couple of matters to discuss with some of my colleagues. Take all the time you need."

"Thank you. I'll be as quick as I can."

He nodded perfunctorily and stepped outside, leaving her alone. Marlena looked at the blinking light, took one quick deep breath and released it just before picking up the receiver. "Hello, this is Doctor Marlena.."

That was all she could get out before being cut off by an intense sounding Hope Williams, just about the last person on earth she expected or wanted to hear from at this particular juncture. "Marlena.. I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting, but there's something you need to know."

"Hope, I think that by now we've all said all there is to say to each other."

"It's about John."

"I'm sure you'll agree we've beaten that subject into the ground. So, if you're going to try to convince me to give him another chance, please save your breath. We've been there and done that, and it didn't work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do have to go."

"Wait, Marlena!"

"What?" she said, her level of frustration increasing exponentially with each passing second. By way of whatever social graces had been deeply ingrained in her mind, she didn't hang up.

"He's uh, he's in serious trouble, Marlena. " There was a long pause and then one more word. "Emotionally."

"Hope, he's miserable because I'm leaving him. He's drowning his sorrows and licking his wounds right now, but he'll get past it. Besides, I should think you would have enough to worry about without spending time wondering whether or not John has had a few too many drinks."

"No, Marlena! It's *more* than that. I'm telling you, he's in real trouble. He's been having flashbacks, and those terrible headaches have started up again. I tried to get him to see someone, but he wouldn't listen to me. He needs you. Please, just... go see him. I think you're the only one who can help him now."

She had to admit that the woman sounded sincerely concerned about John's well being. God only knew she'd had enough of the fighting. Maybe she should heed the younger woman's heartfelt plea, if only for her own assurance. 'No harm in making sure he's okay. Is there?' "Alright, Hope, I'll go by the Inn to check on him. Now, I really do have to get back to business here."

"Marlena, haven't you been listening to me? I think John's having a breakdown or something, and he might.... well, from the way he's been talking, I'm afraid he might try to hurt himself. You have to go right away!"

"Alright, I'll leave now. Goodbye Hope."

"Goodbye Marlena. I pray that he'll be okay. In spite of what you must think of me now, I do care about the two of you."

Hope sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Softening fractionally, Marlena expressed her gratitude for the concern. "Thank you for calling. You did the right thing, Hope. I'll let you know what happens after I've seen him."

"Thank you." So, that was it. She'd made the call and now it was up to the two of them to make it work. Hope was letting go for good. It was part of her recovery from the same affliction John was apparently now facing full force.

Marlena made a quick apology to Robert Feingold and said she'd be calling soon to reschedule. She didn't tell him what it was about, but he had a hunch it had to do with the other party in the legal action they were about to discuss, the woman's soon to be ex-husband. 'Now, if I only had a dollar or two for every couple who had second thoughts when it was time to file the papers.'

Five minutes later, she was on her way out of the parking garage and headed toward the Salem Inn, a place that had been John's temporary home for the past three months. Despite all her attempts to convince him to find himself a house, he'd objected strenuously, telling her he planned to win her back. That in his mind, buying a house meant making a home, and the only home he ever wanted was the one where she lived.

Hearing the screeching of tires, Marlena looked up and screamed. She was almost in the intersection when the light was turning red. Jamming on the breaks, Marlena managed to stop, barely missing the front left fender of a subcompact making a left hand turn. "Whew," she exclaimed in relief, suddenly envisioning the accident she'd so narrowly avoided. 'Marlena girl... you've got to get a hold of yourself here. Focus on what you're doing.'

Another interruption came a minute later. It was her cell phone ringing and she was glad she had it set to speaker mode, a fancy extra offered by BMW. "Hello," she said, praying it wasn't Hope again.

She listened for a response and there was none. "Hello, are you there?" All she heard was some heavy breathing. Not the kind you'd get from a crank caller. It was harsh and labored, more like the sound of someone who was badly injured. Medical instinct kicked in, "John, is that you? Are you hurt?"

"Doc...."

Relieved and worried at the same time, she asked, "John... are you alright?" His voice was scarcely above a whisper.

There was no reply, just the breathing and then the rustling of clothes and some shuffling, as if he were trying to resituate himself, followed by a choked groan. There was no doubt about it, he was in some serious pain.

"John, please tell me what's wrong."

"Doc....h....help." She heard a crash and then a terrifying silence. "John, answer me! JOHN!"

So, you're having a breakdown

So, you're losing the fight

So, you're having a breakdown.......

Nothing but static. 'Oh God!' Swallowing the lump in her throat, constricted by fear for his life, she dialed 911 in case there was a need for immediate medical attention. She hoped to beat them there so she could make her own assessment of his condition. Fighting back tears, she pressed down hard on the accelerator.

And I'm driving, and crying

Unraveled and flying

I'm coming to your breakdown tonight.....

His mind was reeling, his head pounding incessantly inside his skull, his stomach doing flips. He couldn't breathe and he didn't understand what was happening. There was pain inside and pain outside, all around him, choking his thoughts away. It was so dark and cold. He was wet and shivering and he didn't even know why. He cried out for the only true source of solace and salvation, "DOC! Where are you, Doc?"

"She's not coming, you fool. She's getting a divorce. She doesn't care about you anymore. You're all alone with me now, Johnny boy, and that's the way I like it, ha ha ha!"

He clutched at his head and cried out in his despair, "Go away and leave me ALONE! Oh, God.. please make him go away!"

But, then again, he realized that somehow, because of Stefano Dimera's manipulations of the mind, it was a package deal, the two conflicting parts of him. There was no getting rid of his alter ego, the mercenary, at least not by the sheer force of will. He slipped off the edge of bed, somehow managing to land so that he was nearly sitting up, leaning heavily against the wall.

I cannot run

And I cannot hide

It came with me

Locked inside.......

When the gathering at the pub was over, a tired Bo Brady headed for home. Upon arriving, he stepped into the cabin of the Fancy Face II and immediately asked his wife, "So, have you heard anything yet?"

Hope shook her head. "Nope, nothing." Bo wrapped his arms around her and said, "He'll be alright, Marlena's on her way there, right?"

Nodding, she absently repeated the word, "Right." Suddenly, it all seemed to hit her, and she was telling him how she really felt about it, "Oh, you should have seen him Bo, it's not good. He's coming apart, Bo.. and I think it's my fault! I pushed him to remember and now he's..." She started to cry, all of the guilt weighing heavily upon her slender shoulders.

Grasping her firmly, her husband bade her to look into his eyes as he implored her, "No, you listen to me Hope. It's because of that bastard Dimera. He's the one who caused all of the pain we've been through. Yea, you and John made a lot of mistakes, I'll give you that. But none of it would have happened if it hadn't been for him messing with your minds in the first place, forcing you to become two different people. Damn him!"

The bough will break

Cradle will fall

It only takes one call....

Silently, Marlena cursed herself. A part of her had known it was coming for a long time. Somehow, she'd nearly convinced herself that he deserved it, after all the pain he'd caused her. But now that he was suffering, she felt horrible for not having intervened sooner. It was inevitable that the two halves would do battle for supremacy. Almost like Jekyll and Hyde.

So, you're having a breakdown

So, you're losing the fight

So, you're having a breakdown......

She wondered if John was strong enough now to endure the fight, and which qualities would remain when it was over. She only hoped she could reach him in time to help him win the war being waged over his heart, mind, body, and soul. Praying seemed like a good idea. "Please, God... keep him safe, let him feel your love..". and mine,' she added without saying it out loud. It brought a strange sort of a smile to her lips to hear those soft words echo inside her mind. Deep down, beyond all the pain and suffering he'd inflicted upon her, underneath the layers of anger and bitterness, she knew in her soul that she loved him still. Almost chuckling about it, she thought, 'Well, they never said love was supposed to make sense. It's more like madness that descends upon you without warning,' she concluded as she approached the Salem Inn parking lot. 'Yes indeed, it's a madness of the heart....'

And I'm driving, and crying

Unraveled and flying

Coming to your breakdown tonight.......

She raced inside the hotel lobby, and after a split second's consideration, took the stairs rather than wait for the elevator to arrive. It was only four flights up. Her heart pounding impossibly fast as she reached his door, she prepared to knock, then noticed it was slightly ajar.

So, you're having a breakdown.....

But she never could have been prepared for what she saw when she entered. The room was in a total shambles, all his belongings broken and scattered about. Worse than that, he was covered in crimson. "Oh my God, John... what's happening to you?" For an interminable moment, she stared at him as her hands went to her mouth, a nearly overwhelming fear for his life and sanity seizing control of her mind and body.

Rushing into the bathroom to find something to use for a pressure bandage, she noticed a blood covered knife in the tub. 'Thank God he doesn't have it anymore.'

When she turned around to approach him again, he had a gun in his right hand. "Self destruct orders.... must follow... orders."

Slowly, he raised the Browning 9mm to his temple, his expression one of regret, and relief that the suffering would be ending within seconds.

Working to keep the swiftly rising panic from her reaching her voice, Marlena inched closer and spoke to him in deliberate, calm tones, "No, John... you don't want to do that."

He was rocking slightly and blinking rapidly, his eyes unfocused, as if responding more to internal stimuli than to her. "Have to...it's the only way... only way out."

She wasn't sure who was talking, whether it was John or the mercenary. It didn't matter; she had to stop him. "That's not true, John. There are people who can help you. *I* can help you. Please, let me." He was bleeding so badly, she needed to do something about it very soon. Choking on the fear, she made a move to put a towel on the worst spot, the left side of his chest. 'Oh, please let the paramedics get here soon!' she pleaded with the air around her, hoping that God was actually up there to hear her.

"Please go." He made a feeble attempt to push her away, but was too weak from the large self-inflicted chest wound. That alone should have scared her to no end.

So, you're losing the fight.....

She kept up her attempts to stem the flow of life sustaining fluid. "No, I'm not leaving. If you're going to use that thing on yourself, you're going to do it with me right here watching. Knowing that I'm going to be left with the mess... and the pain."

His confused and cloudy blue eyes pleaded with her to go, if his speech did not. "No..."

"Yes, the pain, John. You know that's what will follow, more suffering for me, for the children, while you get to escape from it. Haven't you hurt us enough?" She knew she was being harsh, but it had to be said. She had to reach him on an elemental level.

So, you're having a breakdown

And you need me tonight.......

She was startled by the noise of the sirens announcing the squad's arrival at the scene, but John didn't even seem to notice. When she heard the sound of footsteps nearing the door, she put a hand behind her to warn them off for a moment, tossing them her hospital name badge. Making a visual sweep of the room, they saw the victim lying propped up against the far wall, in a pool of blood, his right hand bearing a gun, and nodded in acknowledgement. Even so, the cops who were there let her know with their eyes and body language that if the man turned the weapon toward her or anyone else, he’d be fired upon.

"John, honey, listen to me.... I know you're having a really hard time right now. You're confused and upset by the flashbacks, but you don't have to do this."

"Orders.... have to obey--make the ultimate sacrifice." His grip on the weapon tightened, his finger moving on the trigger, and she stifled a gasp of horror. 'Oh, God no, please don't let this happen!'

Hard as she tried, she couldn't keep her voice from trembling slightly, as she strove to reach the man she loved and had known so well. "You're not his mercenary anymore, John.... you don't have to follow his orders."

He looked up as if her truly heard her for the first time, his eyelids fluttering, his eyes darting back and forth, taking in his current predicament and searching for answers. "Doc?"

The floodgates were ready to burst, but she held them back, though her voice was laced with emotion, "Oh, yes, honey it's me... I'm here, John.... and it's going to be okay now."

His left hand reached for the source of the worst pain and felt something wet and sticky and then his gaze traveled to the spot he'd touched. Blood. There was a hole in his chest and he was bleeding profusely. His hand trembled in front of his body, his jaw dropped and his eyes shot open wide. "Oh God Doc, what...." He looked at her, desperate and shaking from the encroaching shock, horror and confusion clouding his baby blues, just before he passed out and slumped to the floor. The dislodged handgun landed with a gentle thud on a stack of newspapers.

The paramedics wasted no time at all, racing to their victim to begin treatment. Feeling drained, Marlena backed off and leaned against the front wall for the solid support it offered. One of the policeman who'd been in the area and responded to the call, picked up the gun, removed the clip and engaged the safety mechanism before slipping it into an evidence bag.

Observing the men working on John, she urged them, "Take care of him... please take very good care of him."

One of the fireman who had carried some of the equipment, put a hand on her shoulder and said, "They will, Ma'am, these two are the best in the business."

All she had the energy to say was a quiet, "Thank you," as she sat down on the couch, struggling with emotion and hoping to hold it together long enough to get to the hospital.

I've found my place in this downtown

Salt air and yellow street lights....

She stayed with him after the surgery, just holding his hand, running her fingers through his dark hair. Thank the heavens, he was on his way to making a full recovery. Physically. But, mentally and emotionally, it remained to be seen. She hoped he would agree to what she'd been planning. When he was ready, there was a place he could go where he would have an opportunity to rest, soothe his soul, and heal his battered psyche. It was headed up by a colleague she knew well and respected. He'd done some marvelous work with people experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder.

So, you're having a breakdown....

John had come through surgery and was now on his way to a regular room, where the real work of recovery would begin. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the rough days that lay ahead. When John came around, there would be so much for him to face. Remembering his terror filled expression when at last he seemed to be alert and aware of her presence, she let out a weary apprehensive sigh, praying he would make it all the way back from wherever his mind had taken him. Thinking back on all that had happened to the people she loved in the past several years, she also found herself wishing with all her might Stefano Dimera would one day pay a high price for the havoc he had wreaked in all their lives.

And I'm driving and crying

Unraveled and flying

I'm coming to your breakdown tonight......