Only in Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
Roman Brady was in turmoil. Naturally,
he headed to his thinking spot to make sense of the situation in which he
suddenly found himself. Standing out on the pier overlooking the slightly
unsettled waters of the Salem River, he let his mind go back in time, back to
happier, simpler days. It had been so long since he first brought Marlena there
to show her his special place. He remembered the smooth, heavenly sound of her
laughter. How he missed the way she laughed at his occasionally goofy antics.
It seemed like a dozen lifetimes ago.
And now, after all those lonely years of
living without her, finally, he had his chance, a clean shot at Marlena's
tender, wounded heart. John had just given him that opening free and clear,
actually telling him to go to her and say that her husband was lying again,
manipulating her by playing on her sympathy. Roman knew without a doubt that if
he did what John suggested, she would fall into his arms. She would give up on
the man and let him go once and for all time. Marlena would be his again, maybe
even becoming Mrs. Roman Brady one day.
"Oh, Doc... I love you so much....
I always have. I wonder... if I'd stayed...after the affair was revealed....
would we still be together?" He battled his conscience. John was in
serious trouble, facing a relatively lengthy jail term for something he might
not have done. And even if he was physically present and involved, it was
likely that he wasn't completely responsible for his actions. Roman knew for
certain what they'd all wondered about from time to time. John was fighting the
mercenary Stefano created for control of his mind and body. How could he just
abandon the man to wage that war all on his own, with no one else the wiser?
The side of him that wanted Marlena at
almost any cost pushed him to go with the flow, 'He told you to forget about
what you saw and heard, Roman... this is what he *wants* ...so, why argue with
the man? John only wants to protect her from more pain, so why not go along?
This is your best shot, Roman... don't blow it!
But it's wrong!
Taking a deep breath, Roman left the
pier and headed for the Penthouse, not entirely certain what would happen once
he arrived and saw her standing there looking as beautiful as any woman had a
right to be.
Less than an hour later, he was at her
doorstep trying not to stare at the way her robe didn't quite cover her ample
bosom. "Oh, Roman... hello, what are you doing here?" she said,
greeting him pleasantly, if somewhat surprised to see him.
Mesmerized by the way the light
glistened in her eyes, he stammered at her, "I uh... well, there's
something... I need to.... tell you about."
Her smile was even more captivating. And
then she said something he didn't quite catch, but guessed at from the way she
stepped aside and gestured. "Oh... well come on in then... what's it all
about? You seem... upset or...."
Walking past her, he took a deep breath
and tried to focus on the reason he'd come, "Well, it's just that... I
don't know how to say this exactly..."
"Roman... you know me so well...
surely you can be open with me," she said as she non-verbally directed him
to sit down on the couch.
She sat, he didn't. "It's about
John."
"Oh." The silence was
deafening and neither one knew what to do to break it. Roman finally braved it,
saying quietly, "I went to see him tonight, after you left."
"And.... "
This is it, Brady, now or never.... what are you going to do? "And, he was... acting strangely."
"Oh... how is that, Roman?"
she asked, wondering if he might have picked on some of what she saw when she
went.
"Well he.... I don't know,
exactly... he just.. "
Becoming irritated, she urged him to get
it out in the open, "Roman, whatever it is you came here to tell me,
please just say it!"
"Okay... I think that John's lying
to you again.... I think he's...." The words were out there and a part of
him was pleased, another part wishing he could take them back..
"What, Roman... I've been dealing with his lies for well
over a year now... nothing would
surprise me... Whatever it is, I can handle it!"
"It's just that..."
"Roman!"
He was staring at a wedding picture, one
of she and John in front of the huge cake. It was obvious that she was
overjoyed standing there next to him. How could he lie to her and risk her long
term happiness out of selfishness? "Alright.... God, this isn't how I
wanted this to go..."
"You're starting to scare me,
Roman."
Forcing his attention to the present, he
began to tell her the truth, "Oh, Doc... I'm sorry... it's just that I...
I love you so much... and I wanted a chance to be with you again, you know
that."
"Yes, and we talked about that
earlier.... I said I wasn't ready...."
His sigh was audible, his disappointment
not very well hidden. So close and yet so far away.... "Yes... and I came
here tonight, prepared to take advantage of a situation so that you might turn
your back on John for good."
Just as she was about to come around
from behind him, he turned to face her, "But I guess I must have known I
couldn't really do it... that's why I've been so hesitant with you. I realized
just now that I can't go through with it. It just wouldn't be right."
Her confusion was written all over her
face, "Roman, what in God's name are you talking about?"
"It's John... Marlena... I know for
a fact that he's been battling the mercenary for control... I heard him
tonight... he's hearing voices, Doc... I saw him in the middle of some kind
of.... hallucination or something... I'm not sure... but he was talking to
someone... inside his mind."
She fell back onto the couch in stunned
disbelief, which in itself surprised her. Her heart pounded hard against the
walls of her chest and her stomach fluttered with a burst of anxious
adrenaline, 'Oh God!' It wasn't like she hadn't considered the possibility,
even accepted it on some level, but to hear Roman say it so plainly was
overwhelming somehow. For the longest time, she sat there with her mouth agape,
not saying a word. Finally, she began to gather her wits about her and started
asking questions from a clinical perspective, "Roman what exactly did you
see and hear?"
Deciding this might take awhile, Roman
finally joined her on the couch, sitting so that he was facing her, "Well,
as I came closer to the cell, I heard some muttering and I thought maybe he was
dreaming, you know... talking in his sleep. But when I got up close enough to
see him, John was all curled up in a ball... he was rocking.... and he was very
upset.... I didn't get all of what he was saying, but I heard him pleading with
whoever it was to leave him alone because he'd already ruined John's life.. he
wanted it to stop and yelled at the person to shut up. Doc, he denied it, tried
to tell me it was just a bad dream, but I know he was hearing voices. Marlena,
he was talking to the mercenary, I'm sure of it."
She gasped and her hands went to cover
her mouth in a gesture that meant she was overcome by emotion. "Oh
Roman.... he must be so... confused,
so...frightened."
"I guess....maybe....yea."
Strangely, he hadn't thought of that aspect of it, but it had to be pretty
scary to know there was something so seriously wrong.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he was more concerned with
protecting you than he was with himself. He's very tired of fighting it, I
could see that much.... but most of all he wants to keep you safe. Marlena, he
told me to say that I thought he was lying to you, manipulating you.... with
this stuff... so that you would let him go and follow through with the divorce
proceedings."
The ending to their heated conversation
at the jail came immediately to mind, "Oh, John.... I was right... you're
sacrificing yourself." She started to cry just thinking about what it
might be like to face a crisis like that all alone.
"You know the more I think about
it.... you're right, he's really scared, for you, for the kids... everybody,
including himself. He tried to hide it, but I could see it in his eyes, it's
like he knows he can't win this fight and that's why he wants to stay locked
up."
Scattered images came to mind, so many
moments when it was clear he was struggling, when he lost control of his anger,
and the drinking.... it was so obvious in hindsight, ' Oh, God how could I
have been so blind? He was self medicating!' But there were so many signs
along the way, the most glaring one of all being his having gone back to
Stefano. "Oh... John... I should
have known.... I should have let myself *see* it... long before now... and I
should have *done* something about it."
Her ex-husband grasped her by the
shoulders and looked into her worried eyes, hoping to get her focused again,
"Marlena, *can* you help him? Do you really think there's anything you can
do to save him?"
"I'm not sure, Roman... but I think
there is someone who knows exactly how to help him."
He said it for her, nodding his head as
he whispered the hated name, "Stefano Dimera....."
"Yes.... Stefano, as usual, he
knows a lot more about what's happening with John than he has let on. And, I'm
going to find out what that is, Roman.... " Without a word of warning, she
nearly leaped off the sofa.
He grabbed her arm as she headed toward
the staircase, "No, Doc... you have to stay away from him!"
"Roman, this is John's life and his
sanity we're talking about here, and my marriage. I won't just let that....
monster steal all of it away without a fight. I'm going over there and you
can't stop me. Now, if you want to wait for me in the car, that's fine, but I'm
going to see him.. alone!"
He let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd
been holding and said, "There's nothing I can say to talk you out of this,
is there?"
She only shook her head and looked at
him with those determined hazel eyes he knew so well, both of them cognizant
that he already knew the answer to his essentially rhetorical question.
"Thought so. Alright... go get
dressed. I'll wait."
"Good man," she said with a
hint of a smile and a friendly wink to break the tension. With that she turned
and raced up the stairs toward the bedroom, thinking of what she should wear to
a showdown.
"Not good enough apparently,"
Roman muttered under his breath as he watched her go, feeling the envy creeping
back into his heart. 'Damn you John Black... you're locked up in jail,
you're all messed up in the head and *still* you're the only man she can think
about! Damn, what do you have to give her that I never could?
He could have sworn he heard John's
voice calling out a sarcastic reply, ' Well, it sure as hell ain't about the
money, Brady.'
'Power clothing,' Marlena
thought with an odd sort of a smirk on her face, as she reviewed the contents
of her walk in closet, contemplating which suit would serve her purpose most
appropriately. She settled on white, the color of goodness, a fitting contrast
to the darkness in the evil man's soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was well into the evening and Stefano
was relaxing in his den, listening to one of his favorite tenors when the
expected guest arrived, at precisely the time he had predicted. He smiled,
licking his lips in anticipation when he heard the doorbell ringing out its
announcement.
A moment later, his servant was stepping
into the room with an apology, "Mr. Dimera, there is someone here to see
you. I know that's it's late but it's Dr. Marlena Evans, and she insists on
speaking with you."
He smiled like the Cheshire Cat.
"Ah. I've been expecting her, please show her in Illiana."
As long as she lived, Illiana knew she
would never see all of the faces, nor all of the smiles that man could wear.
"Yes, Sir, I'll show her right in."
She walked in and sat down on the
expansive leather sofa without ever making eye contact. "Welcome to my
home, Marlena. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he asked,
noticing her choice of clothing. How he admired her strength and courage in the
face of often insurmountable odds. She was a woman to be reckoned with, but in
the end he would emerge victorious, as always. It didn't mean he couldn't enjoy
the game, or the company.
Aware of his scrutiny, she flashed him a
look that was a cross between a smile and a frown and then spoke pointedly,
"Oh, please....cut the sweet talk, Stefano, you've been waiting for me to
arrive. So, let's not waste any time."
While pressing the button on the remote
to turn down the sound, he moved to the chair that was closest to the sofa, and
was equally business like in his response to her, "Alright... please
enlighten me. What is on your mind, Marlena?"
"I think you know.... "
He shook his head and denied it,
"No, I do not. I should think we said all there was to say when we bumped
into each other the other day along the waterfront."
"Bumped into each other,
hardly..." she muttered. Leaning forward, Marlena stared him down, "No...
I think that was just the beginning and the conversation went exactly as you
planned. So, why don't you want John and I to get a divorce? I should think
you'd be jumping with joy if we ended our marriage."
"Oh, Marlena... you are so cynical
now. John has hurt you terribly for this to be the result. "
She winced at the truth in his
conclusion. It was correct, mercenary or not, the man inside the body of one
John Black had caused her immeasurable pain. "Yes, he has, but that's
beside the point. Why don't you want us to divorce?"
It was all he could do to keep the
satisfaction from his face and his voice as he attempted to answer without
giving her any information, "As I told you, I am merely.... curious to see
what might happen between you. That is all, Marlena. I have no ulterior
motives."
She scoffed, stifling a laugh, and
leaned back in an attempt to release some tension. "Stefano, with you
there is *always* an ulterior motive. But, for the sake of argument, let's say
that it's true in this case. I need other answers...."
"About, what?"
"About John... of course."
He nodded, finding himself captivated,
indeed envious of the vigor of her protectiveness for a man who had caused her
an inordinate amount of pain through the years. "Oh, well I'm not sure I
can help you, but I shall indeed try to shed some light on the situation. It
must be very disconcerting for all of you. Tragic really... A man who was
admired and so well respected falling out of favor like that... facing a long
prison sentence for.... murder is it?"
"Vehicular homicide to be
exact," she corrected with vehemence. Her anger was increasing by the
moment and she wished she could smack the smug expression off his wicked face.
"And, I can feel your sympathy, Stefano.... why don't you try calling it
what it is? You're gloating over his misery! You orchestrated the entire
scenario and now you're celebrating his downfall, aren't you?"
His reply was even, but there was an
underlying hint of resentment, "Marlena, I did not force John to become
intoxicated on a regular basis, nor did I cause him to get behind the wheel of
car while in such a state. He did that all on his own."
She couldn't take it any more, she had
to stand up and walk around in order to harness her frustration with his
evasiveness, "Yes, technically that's an accurate statement. You weren't
standing there with a gun to his head and pouring the alcohol down his throat,
that's true. But you might as well have been, Stefano... after what you've done
to him... to his mind, and his....spirit."
Rising to face off with her, Stefano reminded her of an important fact, gesturing to indicate there were no bars on the doors, no dungeon in which the man in question was held captive, "Marlena, he was not my hostage. John came here..... to me, of his own accord. "
This man was maddening and she wondered
if she could restrain herself as long as necessary to finish the conversation.
Stepping closer she faced off with him, "Correction... your *mercenary*
returned to you.... because you wanted him back. John is so confused right
now.. and scared. He won't admit it to me, but it's true. He told me....that he
can't control the mercenary. "
That was shocking. He didn't think John
would reveal himself so openly to her after all that had happened between them.
And the fact that the mercenary would allow it to occur was unsettling at best.
"Oh, that's quite fascinating indeed. And just exactly who is this..
mercenary to whom you keep referring, Marlena?" he asked, feigning a lack
of concern or interest in the issue, but turning away slightly so she couldn't
read his face.
Now she was losing it. Stepping around
to ensure she could look him in the eye, she called him on it, "Oh,
Stefano... don't even *try* to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.
The mercenary you trained him to be! The mercenary who would lie, cheat, steal,
even kill for you.... you wanted him back at your side, so little by little you
plotted and schemed, until you made it happen."
Again, he feigned indifference,
refilling his a drink as a distraction technique, "Marlena... I have no
idea what you are referring to... if John has some sort of... dark side... that
he calls the mercenary, or what have you... that is none of my doing. Isn't
there a name for it....I believe your former sister-in-law suffered from it...
what is it? Ah, yes... multiple personality," he finished, staring
straight into fiery hazel eyes. His strategy was working. She was furious, but
she had nothing more with which to challenge him. Now she would shout at him in
condemnation and leave. It was glorious to know his adversaries so well.
That was it. He wasn't going to tell her
anything. She knew she should leave, as her fear was starting to take over for
the anger she was felt when she learned of John's predicament. Her voice
started out strong but began to quaver as she continued, and tears filled her
worried eyes, "You make me sick! He is over there in that jail cell...
willing to let me go... because he's afraid he'll hurt me again, because he knows
the mercenary won't let him be happy with me... and it's all because of you...
and what you've done to his mind, to his.... heart. Haven't you hurt him enough
Stefano.... Why? Why do you hate him so?" Her eyes awash with unshed
tears. It took every ounce of strength she owned not to completely break down
in front of him, but she vowed never to give the bastard that satisfaction.
He sighed in response. Her dignity and
grace under pressure were to be admired, but he was largely unaffected,
"Marlena... I do not hate him.... or I wouldn't have allowed him to live
in my home."
If she had a weapon she could have used
it, wiping this selfish bastard off the planet. Instead she exploded verbally,
lashing out at him, "But you don't care! You used him.... over and over you've
abused and manipulated him... and
now... when he's of no more use, you just cut him off.... leaving him all alone
to fight for his sanity, without an ounce of compassion for his suffering. Oh,
how I *hate* you!" she screamed, slamming the palm of her hand against the
decanter of brandy, sending it flying across the room.
His eyes followed the bottle, which
strangely did not break, and its contents as they splattered the carpet and the
walls, but he answered quietly, as if he had not even noticed. "As I said,
John is solely responsible for his current situation. I am truly sorry for his
pain, but there is nothing I can do for him."
Breathless with helpless rage, she said
her final piece, "Fine... you turn your back, but one day it'll all come
around to haunt you, Stefano. One day... you're going to die... and then you're
going to rot in hell for what you've done to him... to all of us!"
He had no reply, but his dark menacing
eyes issued a silent challenge. 'We shall
see, Marlena, we shall see.'
She turned and left him alone, realizing
once again that talking to him was essentially a worthless endeavor. The
outcome was always the same. He would give hints meant to taunt and torture his
desperate victims. Often, it was just enough to bring them to him begging for
answers, but never enough to use against him.
Sandra H. Bondelier
200-2004