PH4 – The Living Room
Sonny came down the stairs after just having
showered and changed into a pair of black slacks and one of his more casual
button-down shirts. After Carly had
left, he had immediately gone upstairs to survey the damage she had done to his
bed and bathrooms. To his surprise,
Carly had been true to her word, for once. Everything was exactly as it had
been before their…encounter. One would
never know that just over and hour ago a storm had passed through his bedroom
that threatened to destroy everything in its’ wake: him, Carly and most of all
Jason. How were they ever going to
survive this? Why did he always have to
destroy the best things in his life?
Why did he have to destroy Jason?
Disgusted with himself and the fact that the evidence
of his and Carly’s betrayal could be so easily erased, Sonny had doffed his
robe and headed to his bathroom for a long shower. When he had finally emerged, with a towel wrapped loosely about
his hips, he’d taken one look at the bed and knew he wouldn’t be spending the
night there: the scene of the crime.
His emotions were too raw, his memory too fresh. He had quickly dressed and made his way back
downstairs, to wait for Hannah.
Now, an hour later, Sonny sat at his desk staring
mindlessly at some warehouse invoices.
The numbers were all just one big blur but it didn’t really matter
because the last thing Sonny had on his mind was going over the books. He still didn’t know where things went wrong
tonight but that was of no consequence either.
What happened, happened.
Right? Wasn’t that what Jason
always said? The betrayal was done
with. He just had to figure out a way
to live with it and with himself.
Sonny was still at his desk contemplating the mess
he’d made of his life when Hannah arrived.
She came through the door and put her purse over the invoices at which
he was blankly staring. She cupped his
chin in her hand, turned his head towards her and held him there while she gave
him a long, slow kiss.
“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile but Sonny
merely nodded in response. “You didn’t
have to wait up for me. I’m sorry I
took so long. I’m just – I’m so rusty with the library research.” She untied the belt of her coat, undid the
buttons and as she took the coat off she placed it over the back of Sonny’s
chair. When she moved to sit in Sonny’s
lap, he rose and began to fix himself a drink from the sidebar. Hannah, a
little caught off guard by his behaviour, haltingly continued, “Haven’t done it
in a while. And they want me to present
something by tomorrow.” He merely
nodded again and took another sip of his drink. “The job’s at the university.
Assistant research for a project.”
“Stop
it.” Sonny carefully and deliberately
placed his drink down on the bar. He
knew he was in serious danger of losing his temper, especially if he had to
continue listening to her lies.
“Stop what, Sonny?” She smiled hesitantly unsure of
what he was talking about. “I don’t’
understand.”
“Just stop it. Stop it,” he demands, his voice
rising with every word. “Stop.” He
could barely stand to look at her now.
“Sonny, what is it?” Hannah questioned, a crease furrowing her brow.
He couldn’t take it – couldn’t take her
anymore. “The lies, Hannah!” he yelled,
his eyes enraged. “Stop lying to me! ”
Hannah shook her head in denial. “Sonny I --”
He cut her off.
“Don’t bother, Hannah. I’ve had
enough of your lies. Tell me, how is
Agent Larkin? I mean, I haven’t seen
him since he ‘harassed’ you at
Kelly’s. But you have, haven’t
you? Tonight? And on all your other ‘interviews.’ Hmmm?”
Knowing that she was caught but unable to stop the
denials, Hannah continued, “Sonny.
Sonny, I don’t know what you’re --”
“Oh, you don’t.
Huh? Maybe this will refresh
your memory.” Sonny moved over to the
stereo where the tape he’d wanted to play for her earlier still sat. He put in the cassette and pressed
play. His back was still to her when
she began to hear her own voice.
“Sonny Corinthos is my mark. When he goes to jail he’s going to know that
I put him there!” Sonny pressed stop on
the stereo and slowly turned around.
“There’s more if you’d like?” he calmly inquired. He quirked an eyebrow at her but can see
that he’s made his point: she’d been had – in more ways than one.
Hannah couldn’t believe what was happening. Somehow, Sonny had found out that she was an
undercover agent and that she’s been lying to him the entire time they’ve been
together. “Sonny, please. Give me a chance to explain. It’s not like it seems.”
“Oh. Well,
why don’t you explain it to me then, huh?
Why don’t you explain to me how you love me so much that you’ve been
lying to me – spying on me for months?
That I’d really like to know.”
His body language however belied his words and told her he wasn’t
interested in anything she had to say.
Still, she thought, she had to at least try to make him understand.
“Sonny you have to believe me. I love you.
I would never hurt you. I --”
“You know what Hannah? No. I don’t want to hear
it. I just want you gone.” Sonny moved briskly toward his desk and
yanked open one of the top drawers. He
took out a few hundred dollars bills and shoved them into one of her
hands. “Take it,” he insisted, “you’ve
earned it.” In the back of his mind it
dawned on him that this was the same money he’d offered Carly not two hours
earlier for her “services rendered.”
Having realized this only served to make him madder and Sonny began to
lose control of his temper. “You were
good. I’ll give you that.” He gave her body a quick, scathing once over
letting her know he wasn’t talking about her skills as an agent. “But I’ve had better.” Not two hours ago, he thought. Unbidden images of him and Carly together
started bombarding his mind. He turned towards to bar and threw back the
remains of his drink in one quick gulp.
He poured himself another.
Hannah, in tears from Sonny’s cutting remarks, was
still not ready to give up on them, on him. “Sonny, no. You have to understand. I’m the reason why the FBI hasn’t gotten anything
on you. I’ve been protecting you
because I love you so much!” She moved
towards him and placed her hand on his arm. “Sonny, please.” But her pleas fell
on deaf ears.
Sonny shook her hand loose of his arm and turned
abruptly to face her. “Get out!” he shouted.
“Go!” Hannah visibly flinched at
Sonny’s tone and at the look of anger on his face. He saw her fear of him and it registered that this – this
is the real reason they would never have worked out: not her lies, but her fear -- of him. She was always afraid of that secret aspect of himself he’d tried
to keep hidden from her. But sometimes,
sometimes he just couldn’t keep the animal that raged within him at bay. Like now.
Like the time he’d fought with Larkin at Kelly’s. He’d known from then that he’d always have
to be careful around her, to keep from driving her away.
Sonny turned around and looked genuinely surprised
to find Hannah still standing there.
“Why are you still here? I told
you to leave! You want more? Here!” He
took another large wad of bills from the desk drawer, threw it at her and
turned his back to her. “Consider it
payment for a job well done,” he said to her from over his shoulder. When he didn’t hear her leaving he turned
around and yelled, “Take it! Go! I’ll have the rest of your things delivered
to the Port Charles Hotel in the morning.”
Hannah let the money he had shoved into her hands
fall to the floor with the other bills he had just thrown at her. She walked to the door, grabbed her purse
and her coat off the back of his chair as she passed his desk, and turned when
she’s finished getting her arms through the sleeves. “You can believe whatever you want, Sonny. But the truth is that
I love you. And I did everything I
could to keep you safe.” Sonny took
another sip of his drink and didn’t even acknowledge that he heard her. Having said what she needed to say, Hannah
turned and made a quiet exit through the door.
Sonny leaned both his arms on the sidebar and lets his head fall. He stood there for a while, slowly shaking
his head back and forth as if this silent denial of tonight’s events could
erase them from existence. Sighing, he
made his way back towards his desk, gathered the invoices about him and set in
for a long night.
A Room at the PC Hotel
Carly took her room key from the bellboy, quietly
thanked him and gave him a generous tip.
“Thank you and have a good night Mrs.
Quartermaine.” Carly inwardly flinched
at being called that but merely smiled and sent the man of his way. She closed the door behind him and rested
her forehead against its cool surface for a moment. She sighed heavily as she wondered again at what she was doing here? All she knew was that she couldn’t go home –
couldn’t go to the Quartermaines’ -- tonight.
When had that place ever been home to her, or to anyone? She had wanted so badly to get Michael out
of that place tonight. To finally, after all these months bring him home to
Jason. But then she had seen Jason slow
dancing with that little Elizabeth Webber and she had lost it.
Carly turned around and pushed herself off the
door. She threw her purse on a nearby
table and moved towards the bed. She
sat down and took her boots off one at a time and threw them across the room at
the door. Carly glanced at the clock
and was surprised at the time. It was
still so early, she thought. The
evening was barely half done and she’d managed a fairly decent job of wrecking
her life. She fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She had lost it. Once again, she jumped to conclusions and
ran to Sonny of all people for the truth.
What was she thinking, she wondered.
Lying here in this bed she let everything Sonny said to her run through
her mind. That he’d hoped Liz and Jason
were together since that would mean Jason would be rid of her. That she was no good for Jason and Sonny was
glad that Jason was falling for someone else.
Why did she let him goad her like that?
She should have realized what he was doing but something about that man
just got to her. He had a way of saying
things that made her believe they were true.
And she had believed him.
Everything he said to her made so much sense. Why should Jason wait around for her and the family she’d
unceremoniously ripped away. She did
ruin Jason’s life and he did deserve to find happiness and, if not with her why
not with that little twit Elizabeth?
“Ah!” she exclaimed letting out her
frustration. Sonny had goaded her, and
she had goaded him right back. How they
ended up in Sonny’s bed she didn’t really know. One minute they were insulting each other and the next she’d
wrapped herself around him and he was carrying her up the stairs. Carly stopped her mind from wandering any
further. She was in no shape to analyze
what had transpired between her and Sonny once they made it up those
stairs. Try as she might though, she
couldn’t forget the look on Sonny’s face when he’d grabbed her and rolled her
under him. It was like he wanted her,
but didn’t want to want her. And his kiss had shown that. It had been so brutal, filled with passion
and hate all at once.
Carly shook her head and quickly rolled of the
bed. Sonny was right about one thing
tonight though: a shower hadn’t helped.
Nothing could erase those moments spent in Sonny’s bed, no matter what
she tried. She quickly stripped leaving
her clothes where they fell on the floor.
She moved to the bathroom and started the shower, turning the hot water
valve on high. Carly moved under the
spray and was momentarily shocked at how hot the water really was; but she
welcomed the pain, anything to keep her mind off of tonight’s events. But that wasn’t possible was it? It was the whole reason why she was here,
torturing herself under this scorching deluge, trying to feel clean again.
It seemed as if Sonny was right about something
else tonight also. He’d wanted to prove that she was a tramp who would sleep
with her man’s best friend, and she had.
And she was. A tramp. A whore. And every other ugly name the man had
thrown at her. Finally the dam broke
and the tears that she refused to cry in front of Sonny, and had held at bay
thus far began to fall. Soon her body
was shaking so badly with her sobs she could no longer support herself. She leaned against the back of the shower
stall and slowly slid down until she was sitting with her head bent low and her
arms wrapped around her bent knees. She
stayed that way for quite some time, crying, the water beating down on her
head.
When she was out of tears, Carly reached out and
turned off the water. She sat there a
little while longer but soon got cold without the constant cascade of water to
warm her. Almost reluctantly, she rose,
and began to dry herself off. She
rubbed herself vigorously with the towel and winced when she reached her upper
arm. When she looked, she could see the
beginnings of a nasty bruise forming.
Another reminder of her night with Sonny, she thought. Sighing, Carly finished towelling off, put
on the hotel’s complimentary robe that was hanging on the back of the door and
wrapped her wet hair in a towel.
When
she emerged from the bathroom, she was surprised to find she spent almost an
hour in there, under the cleansing spray.
An exhausted, Carly turned out the lights and crawled under the covers
of the bed, robe and all. She curled up
on her side clutching one of the unused pillows close to her chest. Try as she might, sleep came slowly. She was too busy worrying, trying to figure
out how to fix this. But could she fix
this, she wondered? Could they come
back from this?
Finally
Carly drifted off to sleep. Her rest
was fitful and she spent most of the night tossing and turning in various
states of unrest. Her dreams were
disjointed, chaotic; full of images of accusing, passion-filled eyes that seem
to see right through to the very core of her and of feelings of longing and
lust, the depths of which she had never felt before, not even with Jason.
PH4 – The Living Room/Entrance Way
Sonny sat on the couch staring into the fireplace
having long given up any pretence of getting some work done. He had an untouched snifter of brandy in is
left hand which hung over the edge of the couch’s armrest. Sitting at his desk earlier he hadn’t been able
to concentrate. He couldn’t keep his
mind off of her and what had happened between them. And then there was Jason. How was he going to tell Jason about
this? That had been his excuse for
taking her to bed in the first place, to prove that she couldn’t be
trusted. To prove that she wasn’t worth
it, wasn’t worth anything. To prove that she would sleep with anyone who
offered her something better. Maybe if he kept repeating that he would believe
it, he thought. When it became clear
that he wouldn’t be getting any work done this night, he had given up. He had put his files away and retired to the
couch where he could just think.
Lost in thought, Sonny did not hear the door as it
opened behind him. Jason entered slowly
and shut the door. He began walking
toward the couch in uneven steps, his breath laboured.
“Sonny,” Jason said, his voice raspy and
hoarse. He leaned over slightly
favouring his right hand side, his left hand inside his jacket as if holding
something. His brow was covered in sweat
to the point where little beads fell unheeded to the floored.
“What happened?”
Sonny remained on the couch, his back to Jason. He wasn’t ready to look him in the eye after
what he’d done, or before what he was about to do. ”Never mind,” he said shaking his head. “Forget the specifics.”
Although business was the last thing he wanted to discuss, he feigned
interest hoping the delay would help him prepare for what was to come. As if you could prepare for ripping out your
best friend’s heart. “Did the meeting
go down tonight?”
“No,” Jason replied. He started to continue but stopped himself, realizing it may not
be safe. “Where’s Hannah?” Jason asked,
looking around for signs of her presence.
“Forget Hannah,” Sonny snapped, a little too
defensively.
Taking that as his answer, Jason continued, “The
meeting… went wrong.” His breathing was
becoming increasingly unsteady and laboured but still Sonny didn’t notice as
his preoccupation with telling Jason what happened weighed heavily on his
mind.
Sonny sighed.
“Well, I guess things played out exactly the way they were supposed
to.” He paused a moment, unsure of how
to start what needed to be said.
Before he could change his mind, he took a reassuring sip of his drink and
began, ”Listen man, I got to tell you something. Carly – she uh, she came over here tonight and –“
“Sonny,” Jason interrupted, his tone insistent but
Sonny continued.
“No wait.”
Sonny finally found the courage to face the man he was about to
destroy. His friend. His best friend. Some would say his only friend.
He placed his drink on the table before him, for once not caring that
there was no coaster nearby to protect its smooth surface. He rose slowly. “I have to say this before – “ He turned and saw Jason for the
first time since he’d entered. “What
the hell happened?” he asked, his face full of concern.
“The meeting was a hit. Darius and Lorenzo are dead.” Jason paused and took a deep
breath, wincing at the pain it caused him.
He continued more slowly, “I’m hit. I shot Moreno…not sure if I killed him.”
“Let me have a look.” Sonny moved quickly around
the couch and moved in close by Jason’s side.
Jason opened the folds of his leather jacket, and took in a harsh breath
at the pain the movement caused him.
Sonny looked him full in the face and read the pain in his eyes. He slowly reached out, as if afraid of what
he might find, and lifted the hem of Jason’s shirt. What met his gaze shocked and dismayed him. Jason had a hole in his side that was
weeping blood, the flow seemingly unable to stop.
Sonny reached around Jason’s back and felt the
telltale signs of an exit wound: his flesh was torn; his back wet, bloody. Sonny pulled his hand away, and stared at it
transfixed; it was warm, all covered in a mix of fresh and congealed
blood. Jason’s blood. This last thought snapped him out of his
morbid thoughts and he sprung into action.
“We need to get this patched up,” he said righting
Jason’s clothes. “Oh, man. Go upstairs. Lie down,” he ordered.
“I’ll get someone here. “
As Jason slowly made his way upstairs, Sonny moved
to the phone and pushed speed dial.
“Benny. It’s me. You need to get a doctor over here now, one
of our guys.”
“What happened?” Benny asked, preparing for the
worst.
“Tonight’s meeting went sour. Jason’s been shot,” Sonny replied, still
unable to believe what happened.
“What about the others?” Benny asked, already
knowing the answer, but needing to hear it anyways.
“Jason’s the only one left to worry about,” Sonny
said, his voice cold, distant. “Just
get a doctor over to the penthouse now.”
“I’m on it boss,” said Benny, but before he
finished Sonny had already hung up the phone and was halfway up the stairs to
see to Jason.
PH4 – The Living Room
It was late.
The penthouse was dark.
Quiet. Still. Sonny sat on the couch, staring into a fire
that had long since grown cold. How
long he remained there he couldn’t say, enshrouded in darkness and silence, as
if he belonged there, as if he was a part of it. He couldn’t get tonight’s
events out of his mind; he knew he never would. But then, why should he be able to? The things you do, you carry.
Isn’t that what he always said?
He just didn’t know how he was going to carry this; getting Jason shot –
almost killed, all the while sleeping with Jason’s woman while he was out dying
for him.
Jason was upstairs resting comfortably. After the doctor had given him something for
the pain he had quickly drifted off into a painless sleep. If only Sonny could be so lucky. Would he ever sleep peacefully again, after
this? Sonny exhaled heavily as he began
to replay the scenes of what transpired upstairs over in his mind again. It was like he was caught in a loop of
continuous playback, unable -- or
perhaps unwilling -- to break the cycle.
After speaking with Benny, Sonny had rushed
upstairs to help Jason. He had found
him in one of the guest bedrooms; his leather jacket carelessly discarded on
the floor, struggling to remove the bloody shirt that clung to him with as
little effort as possible. Trying to cause as little pain as possible.
“Here, let me help you with that,” Sonny offered
moving away from the doorway to Jason’s side.
He gently eased Jason’s shirt away from his wounds being careful not to
disturbed what healing if any had already began. He held onto the sleeve of Jason’s good side and let him pull his
arm out. From there it was merely a
matter of lifting the shirt over Jason’s head and then off his other arm.
That was when sonny got his first, clear,
unobstructed view of the damage done to Jason’s side. It was a mess of blood and torn, discoloured flesh. It was one of his greatest nightmares become
manifest: Jason dying for him.
“It looks worse than it is”, Jason reassured
him, seeing concern and guilt in Sonny’s eyes.
Sonny however, was not buying it and knew that Jason was in a lot of
pain but denying it for his sake. But that
was difference between them wasn’t it, Sonny thought. When Jason was in pain he still put others’ needs ahead of his
own. Whereas Sonny always made those
around him hurt when he was hurting. He
was selfish to the core; always putting his needs, his wants ahead of
others. No matter what the cost. But not this one time, he silently
vowed.
He tossed Jason’s shirt onto the nightstand and
pointed at the bed. “Let’s get you into
bed”, Sonny said, as he moved toward the bed and pulled back the sheets. With his arms under Jason’s he helped ease
him slowly, gently onto the bed, to comfortably recline against the
pillows. The clean white sheets soon
began to stain a bright crimson red as the re-opened wound in Jason’s back
began to bleed anew. The changing
contrast held Sonny steadfast as the red on white too soon became white on red.
“Let me go get something to clean this up,” Sonny
said, needing to be able to fix this somehow.
He moved quickly to the adjoining bathroom. It was not long before Jason heard the rush of running water and
the sounds of Sonny rummaging through the cabinets in search of first aid
supplies. Sonny made two trips between
the bathroom and Jason’s bedside. The
first was with a basin of warm water.
The second was with fresh towels and a first aid kit. He gently eased himself onto the bed at
Jason’s side being careful not to disturb Jason’s position as he did so. He grabbed the topmost towel from the stack
he had brought, dampened it a bit with the warm water and motioned Jason
forward. Jason leaned forward, bracing
his arms on Sonny’s shoulders as Sonny bunched the towel behind his back. Leaning backward to rest Jason closed his
eyes a few moments. Sonny took the
opportunity to soak a washcloth and began to wipe down Jason’s sweat stained
brow. Jason opened his eyes and took
over the task while Sonny wet yet another towel and put it to his side.
“Thanks,” Jason slightly groaned as Sonny continued
his careful inspection his wound.
Sonny’s head snapped up at this unexpected expression of gratitude. He looked at Jason, dumbfounded by what he
just heard. “Sonny, what is it?”
“You’re thanking me?” he began, his voice almost
accusatory, “I sent you out tonight, to a meeting I damn well know I should
have attended – that I knew was dangerous—“ he abruptly stopped, unable to
control the anger that was slowly building within. He started again, his voice controlled, his self rage
contained, “I sent you in my place to
get shot for me. And you thank me. I almost got you killed tonight all the
while I was –“ he cut himself off before saying too much – before saying what
could never be unsaid.
“You were what?” Jason prompted. “Sonny?”
Misunderstanding the reason for Sonny’s agitation he continued, “Hannah
had to be taken care –“
“I said forget Hannah!” Sonny snapped waving his
hand in dismissal. He shook his head
and continued in a softer tone, “I’m
sorry. It’s just, the last thing you
should be doing Jason, is thanking me.
What I have I ever done for you except bring you into this life; knowing
that it could get you killed but doing it anyways?” He paused to look Jason full in the face, “Some friend I turned
out to be. I’m your greatest enemy; you
just don’t see it yet.” Sonny smiled as
if at some inner joke, “But you will.”
“Sonny, you didn’t do this. I—“
When Sonny motioned to object, Jason insistently
curbed his denials, “Sonny. You didn’t do this. I chose to take that meeting tonight. Nobody
forced me.” He held Sonny’s gaze willing him to accept these words as
truth. “Just like nobody forced me into
this life. I chose it. “
“Nobody chooses this life, Jason” Sonny
refuted. He closed his eyes as if
picturing a time in the past, before he was Sonny – before he became
Sonny. “It sucks you in. Subtly. Seductively. So slowly at first that you never see it coming:” He cocked his
head to the side as if awaiting some signal or a sign, and then focused his
gaze steadily on Jason before finishing, “the day you realize you can’t EVER
get out.” He paused before casually
adding, “Not alive anyway. No matter how much you may want to.” He motioned around the expensively decorated
room and continued, “The money. The power.
It sucks you in, then bleeds you dry.
That’s – this,” he corrected motioning toward Jason’s gunshot wound, “this
is what I gave you.
“Sonny, where is this coming from?” Jason inquired, instinctively knowing that
something else was at work here.
Knowing there was more to Sonny’s mood than him being shot. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d
been shot at under Sonny’s employ.
Although it was the first time that he’d been hit.
“I nearly get you killed tonight and you ask me
where this is coming from?” Sonny asked, his disbelief palpable.
“Sonny, I told you: you didn’t do this.” Jason paused before venturing further. Normally Sonny confided in him when something
was bothering him. But tonight,
something was eating at Sonny, something that Sonny didn’t want him to know
about. He took a deep breath, almost
choking on pain that ripped through his side and haltingly probed, “Did
something else happen tonight?”
Sonny looked up almost guiltily, caught off guard
by Jason’s inquiry. “What makes you say
that?” he evaded, a bit too defensively.
“I don’t know.” Jason hedged. “I just get this feeling. Maybe –“
“Boss?”
Sonny turned to the sound of Benny’s voice coming from the bottom of the
stairs.
“We’re up here,” Sonny called as he rose from the
bed, glad for the timely interruption for reasons more than Jason getting the
care he needs. He grabbed Jason’s
discarded shirt from the night stand and wiped his hands in the blood soaked
material as he made his way to the doorway to meet Benny and the doctor he had
brought. A few moments later, Benny and
short, thin man who held a doctor’s bag rounded the landing at the end of the
hallway. Sonny beckoned to them from
his stance by the doorway and moved back toward the bed where Jason lay.
“Boss this is Dr. Mills,” Benny indicted the
nondescript man beside him, by way of introduction. “I’ve explained to him that privacy is of the utmost
importance.” Sonny stared at the
doctor, holding his gaze as if mentally weighing him against some imaginary
scale. Finally he nodded, satisfied
with what he saw and stepped away from the bed allowing the doctor access to
Jason.
“Ok. Now
let me have a look at what we’re dealing with,” said Dr Mills, carefully
removing the bloody towel from Jason’s side.
He took one look at the nasty wound and smiled reassuringly at Jason
when he met his concerned gaze. He
quickly reached for his bag and set to work.
Something told him that failure was not an option here.
Sonny and Benny watched the doctor perform his
ministrations, scrutinizing his every movement. Once satisfied the doctor was indeed capable, Sonny gestured
Benny out into the hall, knowing they could be of no assistance in there. Besides, they had business to discuss.
“Alright,” Sonny began, his head angled down and
his voice lowered so the doctor couldn’t hear what was being said, “we need to
put a lock on this as soon as possible.
I want to know exactly what went down tonight and why. Surely Moreno’s not stupid enough to think
this will go un-retaliated?” he asked, an edge to his voice that he had kept
restrained until now.
“He was obviously after you tonight.” Benny baldly stated.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“Too bad for him he didn’t succeed,” Sonny said, his eyes hard,
unyielding, making Benny slightly uncomfortably with what he saw in them. It was then that Benny noticed Sonny was
absentmindedly, yet methodically, wiping his hands clean with Jason’s bloodied
shirt. He coughed, breaking Sonny away
from his vengeful thoughts. “And find
out where my men are. I owe them at
least that much.“
“I’ll get right on it,” Benny replied and turned to
leave.
“And tell Deloris I apologize for getting you outta
bed at this time of night,” Sonny added, a parting thought as he turned and
made his way back into the bedroom.
Benny nodded and continued down the hall toward the
stairs, caught off guard yet once again at how Sonny’s thoughts could just
shift with the drop of a dime. He mentally
shrugged off his wayward thoughts and made his way out of the penthouse towards
the elevator, on his way to get to the bottom of what happened tonight.
Sonny, seeing the doctor still at work, made his
way toward the adjoining washroom to get himself cleaned up. Realizing he still held onto Jason’s
bloodied shirt, he threw the ruined garment into the garbage and turned on the
tap. The second his hands interrupted
the flow of warm clear water, the white porcelain basin was awash in red. His mind immediately jumped to the scene
earlier when he had helped Jason onto the bed.
The white sheets had quickly stained red. It was a contrast glaringly shocking in its’ intensity. Sonny stood transfixed, mesmerized by that
same contrast as he stood over the sink; caught by the crimson flow that poured
down the drain -- watching immovable as the blood of his best friend poured
down the drain. At the reminder that
this was Jason’s blood on his hands, Sonny snapped out of his reverie and
mindlessly grabbed for the soap. He scrubbed until his hands were raw and the
lather frothed as white as the snow that fell outside the bullet proofed
windows, but somehow he knew that no amount of scrubbing could ever make his
hands clean again. He absently wondered
if they ever were clean. Was there ever
such a time in his life? When his hands
were not stained with the blood of those around him? Those that he loved, cherished?
It was always the blood of the innocent that was shed. Never the guilty. Never -- him. He replaced
the half used bar of soap in its’ holder, turned off the tap and quickly dried
his hands on one of the few towels that remained.
Sonny entered the bedroom, just as Dr. Mills began
packing his supplies. The doctor must
have heard something because he turned around even though Sonny’s approach was
silent. He handed him a bottle of pain
relievers and instructed, “He’ll need
two every four hours for the first twenty four hours. Two every eight hours after that.” Sonny nodded and took the bottle of pills knowing he will have a
battle on his hands – trying to convince Jason to take the medication.
Sonny looked passed the doctor to a sleeping Jason
on the bed. His colour was slowly
returning and he looked peaceful, resting comfortably on the pillow. Now he could truly believe that Jason would
be all right. “Anything else?” he
asked.
“He shouldn’t be moved,” the doctor replied. “He needs as much bed rest as
possible.” Again Sonny nodded,
wondering how he would accomplish that feat as well. “Thank you, doctor.”
Dr. Mills smiled hesitantly in acknowledgement of
Sonny’s thanks and offered, “I can show myself out.” At Sonny’s silent agreement, the doctor quickly gathered the rest
of his belongings and made his way out the door, leaving Sonny alone with
Jason.
After the doctor left, Sonny had stood over
Jason a few minutes, relishing the simple act of watching the steady, measured
rise and fall of his chest. Who knew
you could derive such contentment from just watching someone breathe? Reassured that Jason was indeed all right,
or at least that he would be, Sonny had left him alone to get his much needed
rest and had headed down the stairs to sit out the rest of this nightmarish
night in his familiar position on the couch in front of the fire.
Now, he sat alone in the dark in front of the unlit
fire staring unseeingly at his hands that lay in his lap, palms facing
upwards. To the common observer, they
were clean, unblemished. But Sonny knew
better. They were stained with
blood. And that’s all he saw: the blood
staining his pristinely clean hands.
Stone’s. Lily’s. His unborn child’s. Brenda’s.
And now Jason’s. It was always
the blood of the innocent -- never the guilty.
And never, never his. Sonny
remained lost in thought as the penthouse slowly brightened. The sun had begun its’ slow ascent into the
sky and slowly the light began to fend off the dark and the shadows that
surrounded him, once again reclaiming what was once its’ own. Sonny however, still sat unaware of the
coming dawn, enshrouded in his own darkness, staring lost, into the depths of
the fathomless sea of the blood he had shed.