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 off 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.