Chapter Fifteen: Shadow Side 

Carly rested her head against Nikolas’ shoulder, her hand gripping his rib cage 
protectively. Shadows were flickering on the far wall, moving in response to the 
changing light coming through the window. It was easy to watch. Mesmerizing. 
She'd lost track of how long she'd been staring at it. Long enough for her 
breathing to slow, for a feeling of comfort and peace to take hold of her… And 
now, long enough for it to abate again. 

She was beginning to feel sick. A deep and familiar sort of nausea, one she 
usually fought with alcohol or any other distraction that crossed her path. She 
turned her head into Nikolas and pulled herself closer to him. He had an arm 
around her, his hand resting loose on her hip. It wasn't enough. Carly tightened 
her grip on him, but he didn't seem to pick up on the hint. She pressed her head 
into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“What time is it?” 

Nikolas brought himself back to the edge of wakefulness, turning his face 
towards her and grazing her forehead with his lips. “I'm going to buy you a 
watch.” 

She shook her head impatiently. “I won't wear it. What time is it?” 

He opened his eyes. “You won't wear a watch?” 

Carly sighed against his neck. “Can you just answer the question?” 

Nikolas nodded, reaching over to the distant nightstand, and picking up his 
watch. “5:30 Port Charles time,” he glanced across at her. “Are you tired?” 

Carly felt her heart still a little. She had convinced herself it was much 
later. “No,” she murmured, sliding her hand along his chest. “Sleepy. Not 
tired.” She fought against a renewed urge to close her eyes. She could feel 
herself begin to relax for the first time in recent memory… The warmth of his 
body and rhythm of his breathing was beginning to lull her into unconsciousness. 
“Are you?” she asked, her voice dropping into her throat. Nikolas smiled 
slightly to himself, breathing in the scent of her hair. 

“I'm fine.” 

Carly let her eyes close, surrendering a little to what her body wanted her to 
do. “I just want to make sure we get back on time.” 

Nikolas pulled Carly's hand away from his neck and threaded his fingers through 
hers, gazing at her ring, and the way her fingers curled around his. “The jet is 
refueled, the forecast is clear, it should be no problem making it into Port 
Charles by noon.” 

Carly forced herself to breathe. She nuzzled her face against his chest and lay 
a light kiss on his shoulder. “Ok, I'll stop asking.” 

Nikolas squeezed her hand, glancing down at her. Port Charles. He wasn't 
relishing it. There was no doubt they had to go, he accepted that… But he could 
feel the edges of reality beginning to push in on him and he didn't like it. 
Going home was going to be complicated. And the most challenging part was 
figuring out just how to approach it. 

He lay their entwined hands on his chest and focused on the complete contentment 
this moment held. If he had ever felt like this in his entire life, it was lost 
to the annals of history. Probably it had never existed. Probably this was as 
close as he was going to get. This was what he wanted… this was what marrying 
her had been all about. Not that strange act she'd put on when they'd arrived 
her, but her lying against him, relaxed, caring, affectionate… Whenever she 
opened up to him, when she let him in, he was overwhelmed by a desire to go 
deeper, to keep exploring, finding out everything he could about her. It was a 
push he wasn't sure he understood. Some sort of faith that nothing he uncovered, 
nothing in her that was real and honest, was going to be too dark for him to 
face. Certainly not darker than some things that were lurking in the recesses of 
his own mind. 

He knew the stories. He'd heard them all, and she'd repeated several to him on 
the plane. They were full of suspicion, manipulation and dishonesty… all things 
he hated. He was mildly aware that this should bother him, but it didn't. He'd 
listened to her carefully and she hadn't apologized for what she had done. She 
didn't cry about it. She also didn't bother to justify it. Instead she seemed to 
tire at the idea, like that was something she'd explained for too long and was 
past caring enough to expend the energy. He understood that. 

“Nikolas…” Carly stirred, tipping her head up to look at him. He looked down at 
her, staring into her eyes. God, he could stay here forever. 

“What?” his voice was soft, and distant. So calm and removed that Carly 
reconsidered what she was about to ask. She swallowed. 

“Who used you?” 

Nikolas could feel himself pulling away before the words had even sunk in. He 
was being drawn away from her, retreating without choice. This wasn't a question 
he could answer. The words stuck in his throat. His jaw tightened until he 
thought it would snap. There was no reason to ever say it out loud and even less 
reason to let it effect what he did. He wanted it gone, out of his head. There 
was nothing worse than having these memories appear out of nowhere to push him 
around. 

In a quick motion, Nikolas forced himself to turn back to her, rolling over on 
this side and gathering her in his arms. He buried his face in her hair. Blonde 
hair, that felt like silk against his skin… Blond hair only a little darker and 
not that much longer. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. No. He 
wasn't going to do this. He breathed in deeply, letting the scent of her hair 
cloud his mind again. He kissed her neck, tasting her skin. All of this was 
different. This was where he was, this was who he was with now. Nothing else 
mattered. He refused to let one past decision be stronger than he was. On the 
other hand, he was determined never to let anything like this happen again. 

He felt Carly tense against him and realized he'd let far too much time pass 
between question and answer to pretend that she hadn't hit a nerve. He tightened 
his grip on her, holding her close. 

“Everyone,” he murmured in her ear, threading his hands through her hair. “What 
about you?” 

Carly gave a nervous laugh. She wasn't sure what was more disturbing… his 
behavior, or the fact that it felt so familiar. “You're the one with the 
issues…” 

Nikolas didn't say anything, just let out a long breath and sunk into her. She 
closed her eyes, her heart stubbornly beating hard against her rib cage. Great, 
she thought. Of all the men in the world, you've found one just as messed up as 
you are. A part of her wanted to curl up against him, to hold him and tell him 
she understood. But more than that, the idea of having this much in common with 
someone, sharing something as deep as the pain he was silently communicating to 
her, scared the hell out of her. 

Carly pulled back, keeping her voice purposely light. “Ok, ok… So this is some 
kind of game of emotional show and tell? I'm very bad at that kind of stuff.” 

Nikolas’ eyes fixed on hers, refusing to let her get away. “You said later…” he 
brushed the hair away from her face in a very purposeful gesture. “It's later.” 

Carly sat up quickly, moving away from him. “I say a lot of things… Like right 
now… I'm going to say I'm hungry,” she looked back at him, smiling unsteadily. 
“What about you?” 

“Carly.” 

Carly reached down over the side of the bed, grabbing the shirt she'd pulled off 
of Nikolas, and slipped it on, trying to ignore the tone. “Look, don't pretend 
you answered my question in so many words,” she tossed off as she did up random 
buttons. “I'm letting *that* slide.” 

Nikolas sat up behind her, and put a hand on her shoulder. “I like to know 
what's going on around me.” 

His voice was flat, unreadable. Curiosity forced Carly to turn back to him. 

He wasn't smiling. And that same wounded look was back. God, why the hell did 
that look get to her like this? She was consistently unprepared for it. 

“Why?” she asked, her voice smaller than she intended. 

“I don't like to be surprised,” he said simply. Carly winced. 

“Yeah, I guess not.” 

Nikolas sat back, taking his hand back… He forgot, occasionally. It was a trick 
his brain played, letting himself believe that not everyone in town had heard 
what happened. Carly saw the cloud descend on Nikolas and before she even 
thought about it, she was crawling across the bed and sliding onto his lap, 
wrapping her arms around him. 

“Never mind,” she lay her head on his shoulder. “Never mind, I get it.” 

Nikolas exhaled in relief. He closed his arms around her, not caring about her 
motives, his need to understand what had happened earlier fading with his desire 
to hold this moment. The real world was waiting on the other side of the door 
and it was going to come knocking soon enough. Maybe he could let this just be. 

Carly pushed back, shaking her head out. A bright smile spread across her face 
on command. 

“So we're agreed, huh? My life sucks, your life sucks… and I'm still hungry.” 

Nikolas smiled in spite of himself. “There's fruit” he pointed out. Carly's eyes 
widened. 

“Insta-food. This works.” She slid away from him and tumbled out of the bed. 
“Saves time.” 

Nikolas watched her move across the room to the fruit basket, feeling a little 
bit disoriented. This was, without question, the strangest week of his life. His 
shirt was loose around her, too big. It should have looked ridiculous… he would 
have thought it would have… but that wasn't the adjective occurring to him now 
as he watched her free the basket from the cellophane and turn back to him, 
flashing him a grin, before moving back across the room towards him, carrying 
the basket with one arm, rested against her hip. She stopped mid stride, seeing 
the way he was looking at her, and lowered her head, looking at him under her 
lashes, and moved the last few steps to the bed with great care. The light 
emanating from behind her cut through the cotton of the shirt, showing her 
silhouette as she approached. Nikolas let his eyes wander over her 
unapologetically. 

“Are you joining me?” Carly asked, setting the basket down in the center of the 
bed, and slithering towards him. Nikolas made a sound deep in the back of his 
throat and pulled her back onto his lap roughly. She cupped his face in her 
hands and gave him a deep, teasing kiss, as his hands moved down her back. 

“Down, boy” she murmured, smiling against his lips. “We're having dinner.” 

Nikolas nodded, moving his hand back to her neck, and kissing her again. Carly 
reached behind her blindly and grabbed a random fruit from the basket. She 
pulled back and held it up between them, glancing down at it. 

“Kiwi?” 

“I'll pass,” Nikolas grunted, kissing along her jaw line. “Fruit with hair on it 
concerns me.” 

“Fine,” she closed her eyes, letting the fruit drop from her hand. “No kiwi.” 
Nikolas’ hands slid under the collar of her shirt caressing her skin. Carly let 
out an approving sigh, reaching back and grabbed the rim of the basket to pull 
it towards them. “There are other choices.” 

Nikolas nodded, uninterested, and trailed his fingers along her arm. Carly 
stubbornly focused on the basket. “There's grapes, oranges… uh…” Nikolas pulled 
her head back gently, kissing the hollow of her throat. “Ummm some… kinda red… 
things.” 

“Carly.” 

“Yeah?” 

Nikolas came up for breath, meeting her eyes and noting that she her breathing 
was a little ragged “I really don't care.” 

Carly stared at him a moment, before rolling her eyes and pushing him back onto 
the pillows, kissing him hungrily. She pulled back from him suddenly, gasping 
for air. 

“Ok!” She announced, sitting up and running a hand through her untamed hair. “I 
have to eat something… I'm getting dizzy.” 

“Yeah, me too…” Nikolas smiled. “I don't think its food related.” 

I should find that obnoxious, Carly thought, as she let herself fall into him 
again. It was amazing how he could make almost any sentence, any motion, 
unbearably sexy. Definitely a trait that he could capitalize on. 

“Really,” she whined a little, sinking into a rhythm of soft and languid 
kissing. “I'm in danger of passing out on you.” 

Nikolas sunk both hands into her hair, and rolled her over onto her back. “Can't 
have that.” He forced himself to turn towards the basket, sitting a few feet 
away. Carly let her arm fall over her eyes, catching her breath, and silently 
asking herself just what her problem was. She could feel that same anxiety that 
she couldn't shake, begin to grip her again. She felt herself reach out and 
close her hand around his upper arm, pulling him back onto the bed with her. 
Nikolas let himself fall back onto the pillow next to her, a bemused expression 
on his face. 

“What?” 

Carly shook her head, and slid closer to him. “Nothing. Just… Don't go too far.” 

Nikolas gazed down at her, at the clouded expression on her face. Something was 
still bothering her. He was going get it out of her if it killed him. But as 
long as she was playing nice, he planned to do the same. He leaned in and kissed 
her thoroughly, before propping himself up on his elbow and turning his 
attention to the nectarine and fruit slicer he'd grabbed out of the basket 
before she'd pulled him back to her. 

“When was the last time you ate?” He asked, slicing off a piece of the fruit for 
her. He brought it up to her mouth and Carly smiled at him playfully before 
baring her teeth and pulling it from his fingers into her mouth. 

“Days,” she said, closing her eyes as she swallowed down the sweet sustenance. 

“You can't get away with that on Spoon Island, Mrs. Landsbury would have a fit.” 
Nikolas said mildly, as he was feeding her another slice. Carly, head tipped 
back to receive the food, pulled back suddenly. 

“Mrs. Landsbury…?” the name came out like a question, but the way she choked on 
the words suggested she had a clue who the woman was. 

Nikolas expertly repressed an urge to cringe at what had just come out of his 
mouth, instead focusing on the nectarine as if it held the secrets to alchemy. 
“Our housekeeper.” When Carly didn't say anything, he forced himself to look up 
at her. She was staring at him, her eyes wide. He cleared his throat, and held 
up another slice of fruit. Carly took it from him with her fingers, and bit into 
it, chewing carefully and staring at the opposite wall. “We should talk about 
that,” he conceded. 

Carly nodded, slowly, popping the rest of the slice into her mouth. Yeah. 
*Should* being the operative word. She had absolutely no desire to think about 
anything, past her visit with Michael. She was accustomed to her life revolving 
around that four-hour period once a week… The idea that there were decisions 
outside of that was foreign and absolutely terrifying. She shrugged, tipping her 
head to one side as she plucked a grape free of the bunch resting on top of the 
basket and brought it to Nikolas’ mouth, rolling it along his lower lip. 

“Can you even imagine what everyone is going to say?” she asked, her eyes 
fixated on the grape. Nikolas opened his mouth and she rolled the grape into it, 
then leaned in and kissed him. “Have you tried?” she asked, against his lips. 

Nikolas sighed, his mind clouding, having an incredibly difficult time 
concentrating on the question. “No…” his voice came out husky. “Outside of the 
fact that Luke will invariably threaten my life again.” 

Carly sat back, a quick laugh escaping her lips. “Luke's threatened to kill 
you?” 

“A couple of times,” Nikolas shrugged, as if this was not a particularly big 
deal. “The second time I met him he pulled a gun on me… But I think that was 
supposed to be a joke.” 

Carly laughed again, clearly delighted. Nikolas looked over at her in confusion. 
She shook her head out, and looked back at him, grinning. “God. The first time 
he threatened me, I went into hiding for, like, three days or something. I was 
so convinced my life as I knew it was over.” 

Nikolas raised his eyebrows. “He threatened you too? You're not… You're not 
even…” 

“What?” 

“Well…” Nikolas cleared his throat. “A Cassadine.” 

“I am now,” Carly laughed, tossing the comment off. The importance of it hit her 
suddenly and she felt a chill go through her as she and Nikolas locked eyes, the 
sentence sinking in. 

“Yes,” Nikolas said quietly, “You are.” 

Carly shivered at the quality of Nikolas’ voice. There was a part of her that 
had, before that sentence had come out of her mouth, still been in deep denial 
that any of this was really happening. She didn't want to think about what it 
meant… not outside of the things Nikolas has said on the boat… about being 
together, about making it harder for people to get in the way… And, of course, 
about Michael. She realized, as his eyes bored into hers, that she had said 
thing to him that she was never going to be able to take back. The admissions 
she'd made just before promising to marry him were just a beginning. They were 
bound to each other now. Signed papers and wedding vows were only part of it. 
She felt herself begin to slide away from him but Nikolas reached up and ran his 
hand gently down the side of her face. She froze. He was looking at her like 
he'd never really laid eyes on her before, studying her face intently, his eyes 
moving from hers, and travelling over her. He let his thumb brush against her 
lip, as if in a trance. 

“Caroline Cassadine,” he murmured, sounding as if he was a million miles away 
from her. Carly's mouth went dry. 

“Caroline?” she managed to squeak. Nikolas nodded slowly. 

“That's what I married you as…” his hand drifted from her face, down her neck, 
and along her body. “Caroline”. 

Carly closed her eyes, letting her head drop as Nikolas pulled her limp body 
back to him. He murmured her given name to her again, speaking against her ear. 
She felt as if everything was dropping away from her again, all sense of time 
and place, worry and tension She lost herself in the quality of his touch, the 
sure and deft way he parted the buttons of his own shirt and peeled it from her 
body, the way his hands and lips drifted over her, warmed her. She fell open to 
him, letting him envelope her, giving herself to him in a way she had no 
recollection of ever allowing herself to before. Not to him, not even to… 
Anyone. It wasn't even a choice, just something that was happening, beyond her, 
outside of her, inside of her. He repeated her name, Caroline, whispering it to 
her, letting his breath caress her, in some sort of baptism of flesh.

She held him a long time, afterwards, her arms and legs tangled up in his, his 
head resting heavy against her shoulder. She ran her hand through his hair, her 
mind wandering lightly from topic to topic, unable to attach any emotion to any 
of them. She felt… Happy? That was an amazingly foreign concept. It was 
different than that. It felt like she was going to be all right. Like she was, 
finally, some place where she wasn't waiting for the roof to come crashing down 
on her head. With someone that was going to take care of her. Who had just shown 
her, in no uncertain terms, that he considered her his, that she was a part of 
him now. The real her. A person no one else had ever tried to find out about. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Carly asked the question softly, still threading her 
fingers through his hair. Nikolas stirred slightly. 

“Anything,” he spoke against her shoulder, his voice thick. 

“Why are you still living in Port Charles?” 

Her words brought Nikolas back to earth. He'd been allowing himself, in a state 
of dissociation, to concentrate on all the things about Carly that he found so 
overwhelming. How gentle her hands were on him, how soft and vulnerable she 
could be when she let her guard down. And how completely foreign the feel of her 
was. The smell and taste of her skin, the silkiness of her hair… He'd never, in 
all his life, been this close to a woman. And there had been times when, he was 
certain, he never would have allowed himself to be. 

Nikolas had never known how to explain to any woman he had known just how 
mysterious he found them, as a group. He had put them aside as something apart 
from him and everything he knew, at a very young age. It had been easy to do. 
His grandmother was unlike anyone he had ever encountered, and despite the 
cooing noises she would make to him, the way she would pull him onto her rigid 
lap and talk at him, he had never seen her as kind. He did not think he had ever 
loved her. She was loud, she was mean, and he'd always seen that. He'd heard her 
yell at the help, her voice malicious and cruel. In contrast, his quiet uncle 
spoke softly while holding the world thirty feet away from him. Nothing ever 
affected him and Nikolas had decided that was the way to be. Cool and detached, 
controlled and quiet. That was what he'd wanted to be. 

But it wasn't what he possessed. Years of practice had forced as much of it into 
him as possible, but he'd always been aware that somehow, he was infected with 
something else. With a heat, a passionate and emotional nature that sought to 
betray him at every turn. It fed his anger, as well as his hurt. He'd let it, 
passed a certain age, turn to bitterness, to help him shut down the pain. 
Because tears, on the rare occasion he'd allowed himself to shed them, where not 
allowed in Helena's court. She had shamed him for them, and had hissed words 
he'd never forgotten. “You're acting just like your mother, Nikolas. You're 
acting just as weak and selfish as her”. 

That wasn't acceptable… to be like the woman who spawned him. Even coming from 
Helena, who was as selfish as they came. Coming from the mother of a man, he now 
realized, was as weak as they came. It didn't matter. He knew the part of him 
that was like Laura was to be exorcised. And his uncle did nothing to dissuade 
him from this, past a certain age. Hating Laura could have been the national 
pastime in their self-proclaimed kingdom. Those were the two examples he had of 
women… cold and vicious, and weak and selfish. They were not to be trusted. They 
were there to hurt you. 

As much as Nikolas tried to believe that mothers, that women in general, were 
not something he needed in his life, he'd never been able to convince himself of 
it. It was a long established pattern at this point. He fell in love too 
quickly. He'd meet someone and see something in them that he wanted, 
desperately, to know better. That gentleness, that softness. Something he'd 
always been missing. And then, before he'd really come to understand it any 
better, it was gone again. They left, they betrayed him, or they decided on 
friendship… Again, reason stated the only intelligent thing to do, faced with 
this kind of history, was to write the gender off. To discard them, like they 
discarded him. He could never do it, though. It was that same part of him that 
betrayed him as a child, that brought on fits of rage, or tears when the last 
thing he wanted to do was cry. The part of him Helena blamed on his mother. That 
part would never stop looking, never stop trying to find what he had right here 
in his arms, at this moment. He wanted the peace it brought too much. 

But now he had to answer that question. Again. He closed his eyes, and forced 
himself to speak. 

“Why would I leave Port Charles?” his voice betrayed the fact that he did not 
find this to be a surprising question. He knew damn well why he wouldn't leave. 
It was twisted, and probably unhealthy, but he stayed all the same. “My mother 
and sister are here.” 

Carly nodded slightly, still combing her fingers through his hair. “But… You 
never see them, right? I mean… Remember, I do thanksgiving and Christmas with 
these people… I've never seen you at the table.” 

Nikolas forced himself to sit up, something he was loathed to do. He met her 
eyes with his, and saw the genuine confusion and interest in them. She just 
wants to know about you, Nikolas, he instructed himself. Don't let yourself pull 
away. He moved up the bed towards the headboard and laid back on the pillows, 
pulling Carly against him, resting her head against his chest. 

“I see my mother and sister occasionally…” he spoke the words by rote, allowing 
no emotion into them. “I mostly see my sister through my brother though, these 
days. My mother and I have a détente. We don't fight. We don't do much of 
anything. Most of the time I just don't know what to say to her. So I don't say 
anything at all.” 

“Your mother and you don't talk…” Carly rolled the logic around her head, “But 
she's the reason you're still here. 

Nikolas closed his eyes, not wanting to think on this any longer. Laura was a 
painful topic. There had been a time when he hadn't felt this way, but that was 
before he knew about the big lie, before he was forced to question her every 
move again. Before he had, in a quite rage, told her that he suspected that her 
only concern had always been herself and that, pretty words aside, she was never 
going to change. Before he'd seen in her eyes a look that suggested he'd just 
wounded her as badly as he'd ever been able to hope for. And felt a deep need 
not to disappear so that she could forget about him again. He just wasn't going 
to let her off that easily. 

“It's a long story,” he muttered. 

Carly nodded. “Ok. Hey, we only have our whole lives, right? We'll get to it.” 

“Absurdity aside… I don't want to impose myself.” 

Carly lifted her head, and rested her chin on the back of her hand. “No,” she 
said, her eyes searching his. “What is it?” 

“You know part of it… It was something of a spectacle.” 

Carly averted her eyes. This she knew about. Everyone did. When Nikolas’ 
paternity had come out, it had been with a bang. A very public bang… announced 
by Katherine Bell at some sort of family function… She wasn't sure what the 
purpose of the party had been… But the outcome had been impossible to miss. 

“You mean that party?” 

Nikolas nodded slowly, staring at the distant wall. “I keep thinking… Someone 
must have missed it.” his lips were slow to form the words. His mind was moving 
ahead of him, though… running over the memory again. Something he couldn't avoid 
doing. He could feel himself detach from his body, from the conversation, as the 
image of Katherine, in that dress… She'd been wearing red, a red sequined 
evening gown that had hugged every curve, that had distracted him completely 
during most of the evening as they stole glances at each other. He could still 
remember the way the material had felt under his hands during a brief moment, 
stolen away from the party. He hadn't been able to think straight around her. 
She'd so expertly played on all his weaknesses, none more than his need, his 
intense desire, to understand her, to be accepted, finally, by some woman. 

And look where that had landed him? A mere ten minutes later, after having her 
tell just how important he was always going to be to her, after promising him 
that after tonight, everything would be different. She had lived up to that 
promise. 

The party had been a celebration. The Cassadines and the Quartermaines, 
acknowledging a powerful merging of families, under the marriage of Alexis Davis 
and Ned Ashton. A marriage that had been a disaster. Alexis should have taken 
her cue from that evening and skipped the six months of married hell that 
awaited her on the other side of it. 

Katherine had been there as a guest of the Quartermaines, arriving on the arm of 
Tony Jones, of all people. That fact alone had made him blind with jealousy. 
She'd assured him it was just for appearances. Just to make a scene. Nikolas 
remembered naively joking that if she really wanted to make a scene, he was much 
better suited for the task. And she'd laughed. Then she had gotten up and made 
that toast. The room's attention on her, smiling, laughing and informing the 
room, a lilt in her voice, that Nikolas Cassadine, the last of the Cassadine 
princes, was actually an illegitimate child of a completely inappropriate love 
affair no one had previously known of. 

She hadn't even looked at him as she said it. She'd looked at Stefan. And that 
was how he'd known, without question, that it was not a lie. It was very likely 
the only words of truth Katherine had uttered in his ear shoot for the last six 
months. It had all been pretence, everything that had happened between them. And 
in the end, she'd gotten what she wanted. She had proof. And the fact that it 
destroyed Nikolas’ entire world? That was just a side effect of her sweet 
revenge. 

Nikolas shook the memories from his head physically, and looked down at his 
wife, his eyes bleary. She was still gazing at him, her brow furrowed. He forced 
a smile, but it failed miserably. 

“It's not my favorite topic,” he admitted finally. Carly shrugged, trying to 
pretend his silence on the issue didn't bother her. 

“I figured.” 

Nikolas could see the tension that had moved into her shoulders, the way she was 
looking away from him. He didn't like it. He moved his hand down to her hair, 
stroking her head lightly, the way she had with him just a few minutes earlier. 

“You still have to eat something,” he said gently. Carly looked at him, clearly 
unhappy with his response, and rolled away from him. 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” 

Carly retreated to the far end of the bed and pulling his shirt on again, like 
some sort of shield between them. Closing off the moment of intimacy he'd just 
effectively ruined. He closed his eyes, cursing himself silently. 

“Carly…” 

Carly began digging through the fruit basket, though she didn't feel hungry. She 
had a huge knot in the center of her stomach and her eyes were threatening tears 
that made absolutely no sense to her. What was she doing? Getting all clingy and 
emotional about all of this? It was stupid. Stupid, and she knew better than 
that. 

“Caroline”. 

Carly angrily hit the basket with her fist, spilling the contents across the 
bed, and turned to him, her eyes on fire. 

“WHAT?” she hissed at him. “What do you want?” 

“I want to know what's wrong”. 

Carly laughed bitterly. “Oh, and why should I tell you?” she looked over at him, 
at his hang dog expression and felt her blood start rushing through her veins, 
the knot tightening. “Because *you're* being so forthcoming?” she asked, 
widening her eyes. Nikolas looked away. Carly turned her attention back to the 
scattered fruit. “Look. If you don't trust me or whatever, fine. Just be honest 
about it, ok?” 

“It's not that.” 

Carly's hand closed around a stray plum and she hurtled it at him without 
thinking. It bounced off the headboard and back onto the sheets. Nikolas looked 
at her in surprise. 

“Then what is it?” she demanded. “Why do you want me to spill everything to you 
when you won't even answer one simple God damned question?” 

Nikolas winced. She had a point. He Just didn't know how to explain to her that 
it wasn't because of her. He didn't want to think about this stuff. On the other 
hand, he realized he was asking her to do the same thing… think about things 
long past, ugly things, things like the stories she'd told him on the plane. He 
moved down the bed towards Carly, who was now occupying herself with gathering 
the fruit again to load them back into the basket. Nikolas reached out to her 
and Carly slapped at his arms angrily before allowing him to pull her back to 
him, crushing her against his chest. 

“I'm sorry,” he breathed into her hair. Carly growled against him, shaking in 
his arms. Nikolas held her tighter, trying to stop her body's convulsions. She 
shook her head, grinding it against him. 

“I shouldn't even be here!” Carly moaned in anger, her teeth gritted. Nikolas 
let go of her, as if he'd just been slapped, and hard. 

“Wh…” He took a purposeful gulp of air, feeling himself go cold. He forced 
himself to reach down and put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at 
him. “What do you mean? Do you… regret…” 

“I mean I shouldn't take the risk!” Carly spit at him. “I shouldn't be here, 
with you, when Michael is all the way across the country, and I have to be with 
him in a few hours!” 

Everything began to clear before Nikolas’ eyes. It wasn't him she was mad at. It 
hadn't been him when they'd arrived at the room, either. She was mad at herself, 
angry that she was with him, doing something besides making sure she was going 
to be able to see her son tomorrow. 

“Then why are you?” he asked quietly. 

Carly's mouth trembled and she pressed her fist against her mouth, trying to get 
it to stop. She hated that. She hated the way it felt, to crumble like this in 
front of him. His arms were around her again and she turned her face against his 
chest, sobbing. “Because I WANT to be!” 

Saying the words out loud gave Carly's guilt only a momentary release and she 
felt the fist in her stomach squeeze harder, pushing her breath out, painfully. 
She became aware of Nikolas rocking her, burying his face in her hair. She 
managed to still herself a little. Once she had, once he was certain that she 
was going to hear him, Nikolas spoke. 

“I've been in Michael's position,” Nikolas soothed, holding her close. “I won't… 
I'll never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. He pulled back 
from her, meeting her eyes. “I can't. I can't do that. I wouldn't be able to 
live with it.” 

Carly stared at him in amazement. His eyes were beginning to tear a little, his 
face troubled. She reached up and lay her hand against his face. He closed his 
eyes and let his face rest against her hand. Carly let herself smile a moment, 
before turning away from him, her face clouding. Nikolas opened his eyes, 
feeling her pull away from him. Her attention had returned to the spilled fruit. 
She spun a fallen pomegranate around on the bedspread, as if it was deeply 
fascinating. Nikolas waited for her to speak again. 

“I don't understand you.” she said finally, without looking at him. “I don't 
know how you even look at me.” 

Nikolas reached out and took the fruit from her. “Why wouldn't I?” 

Carly sighed, still refusing to look at him. She studied her hands, and twisted 
the gold band on her had. 

“Because. What Laura did to you? I did that to Michael.” 

“What Laura did to me,” Nikolas’ voice came out hard, “Was leave me alone for 
most of my life. And then hide a truth from me so that it wouldn't mess up her 
marriage.” He looked up at Carly, finally, seeing that she had turned her 
attention to him. “What you did was try to keep Michael. That's more like what 
my father did. And… That's different”. 

Carly said nothing, just watched him, as he turned his eyes back to the 
bedspread. He cleared his throat and started, as best he could, to explain his 
story. 

“My father did what he thought was best.” 

“So…” Carly spoke slowly. “You forgave him?” 

Nikolas gave a humorless laugh. “I wouldn't go that far…” He felt his jaw 
tighten. Everyone probably thought that he had. Everyone except Stefan, who knew 
better. He knew things were different. He just knew they could be worse. Nikolas 
looked up at Carly, and let himself say what had been in the back of his mind 
since the chapel. 

“Every time I have to fill out my name anywhere… and I write “Stavrosovich”… I 
think I should have it changed. My name, by all rights, should be Nikolas 
Stefanovich. But every time I think about it… Every time I actually face the 
idea of having it legally changed, I just… can't.” Nikolas exhaled heavily, 
looking up at the ceiling. “If he wanted me to have his patronym…” his face 
twisted bitterly. “It's childish, but changing the name denotes more forgiveness 
than I'm willing to concede at his point.” 

Nikolas stole a quick glance at her. She was staring at him with uncertainty. He 
gave her a small smile, aware that he was beginning to show more of himself than 
he had been allowing. He didn't like to appear this dark, even though that was 
how he thought of himself now. A black sheep, even if no one else felt that way. 
A family secret that should have been kept locked up. 

“Do you know what I did when I found out?” 

Carly shook her head. Nikolas took a deep breath and launched into the story, 
realizing he'd never told it before. 

“I was in this room full of people… Who had been laughing and smiling and 
thinking about something completely different, and all of the sudden… They were 
all looking at me. And waiting for me to do something. Say something, anything. 
React. But… I had nothing to say. So I just left. 

“Where did you go?” 

“Home.” He sighed heavily and then he looked up at her. “This is the part where 
you call me pathetic.” 

“I admit… That's not what I would have done.” 

“I was in shock. I kept thinking I should be angry, or… Something. But. I was 
just…” Nikolas shook his head, at a loss. “I did leave…” he murmured, finally. 
“But not for the reasons you're thinking. I just couldn't stand everyone looking 
at me. So I left. WHICH, when you are the son of a Cassadine, and the brother of 
a Spencer is a really pointless activity, trust me on that.” 

Carly smiled slightly. “They found you.” 

“Yeah. Lucky did… Within hours, actually,” Nikolas dropped the pomegranate, and 
ran both hands through his hair. “He was probably the best person to see. 
Because, no matter what happens to me… No matter what kind of hell I go through, 
I can always count on Lucky to have absolutely no pity whatsoever. Which is a 
trait I've come to appreciate. In fact… I think he thought there was some sort 
of divine justice in it. Because… This he understood. Having your world turned 
upside down, he got that.” Nikolas snorted slightly. “Since I'd done that to 
him… twice… he knew exactly what I was going through. So he just told me I was 
scaring our sister half to death and I'd better get back to Port Charles fast 
and let her know I was ok. And I told him I just couldn't go back yet. So. He 
went back and he told everyone to leave me alone. Which I appreciate. To this 
day.” He smiled a little. This was, probably, his favorite memory of Lucky. 
“It's how we really got to see what we are to each other.” 

Carly picked up the pomegranate off the bed spread and stared at it 
thoughtfully. “Which is?”

“People with similar expectations… Similar disappointments. And some shared 
concerns…” Nikolas stopped, frowning. “That sounds colder than it is. I care 
about what happens to him. He seems to care about what happens to me. We just… 
Live our lives very separately.” 

“Sounds lovely.” 

“It's exactly what we both want,” Nikolas looked defensive. “It's everyone else 
who has a problem with it, thinks we should be more, or less… or just something 
else. Which, if anything, makes both of us more determined to be exactly what we 
are.” 

“Ok,” Carly nodded, accepting this. “So why did you come back?” 

Nikolas had known that question was going to come, and he also knew that he was 
not going to answer it. Another failed romance, another example of him coming 
back and turning to someone who eventually turned her back on him. He raised his 
eyes slowly and looked back at her. His voice was soft and deliberately, forming 
every word carefully with his mouth. 

“Where else did I have to go?” 

He let the words rest a moment. It really was the only answer that mattered. He 
could tell Carly didn't quite understand. It was hard to explain to people who 
hadn't been raised as he had, in such a sheltered and extreme world. But a 
homeless Cassadine was a sad sight, and he was far too aware of that. 

“I thought about it… About leaving and never looking back,” Nikolas continued. 
“And I realized… He'd never let me go. And even if he did… What was I going to 
do? So I agreed to be his son. That is what matters most to him. I agreed to 
stay. And I agreed to continue to be a Cassadine.” He looked back at Carly, his 
eyes almost apologizing for actions he still wasn't certain he could be proud 
of. “I do… Owe him my life, in many regards.” 

“And your mother?” 

Nikolas’ eyes turned black. “Laura,” he fought against an urge to sneer at her 
name. Most of the time the anger was distant, but talking about it was opening 
wounds. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself. His voice still shook 
a little as he spoke. “She is just one lie layered on another excuse… And she 
tends to focus on one thing at a time. So better I take myself out of the 
running.” Nikolas closed his eyes a moment, willing himself to relax. When he 
opened them, he saw Carly looking at him with concern, he lips parted, still 
holding the pomegranate in her hand. He smiled, though bitterness still crept 
into his feature. “I try to be philosophical about it. Luke Spencer used to call 
me the Dark Prince, before all this happened. And now… It's what I am. I'm the 
shadow of what I was. There are worse things to be.” 

Carly just stared at him, making no move to speak or respond to what he'd said. 
The silence stretched out in front of them, so far that Nikolas was becoming 
convinced that he had said too much, or revealed himself to be too human, too 
weak. Too much all the things he tried not to be. 

Carly finally blinked and looked down at the fruit in her hand. She looked back 
at him, cocking her head to one side. 

“Spilt this with me?” 

Confusion flickered across Nikolas’ face. “Uh… Sure,” he managed finally. Carly 
handed him the fruit, and after some searching, they located the fruit knife 
under one of the pillows. Carly settled down in front of him as Nikolas slide 
the knife around the circumference of the fruit. 

“What is this thing anyway?” she asked.

“Pomegranate,” Nikolas said quietly, feeling suddenly fatigued. His brain was 
tired. It didn't want to think about what had just happened here, or what 
Carly's non-reaction meant. “There's a Greek myth about a pomegranate…” he 
stated, in a lame attempt to continue the conversation. 

“Oh, really?” Carly moved closer to him, watching him slide the fruit. 

“Well,” he sighed, “It's not just about the fruit. It's about Persephone, the 
daughter of the Goddess Demeter.” He glanced up to make sure Carly's eyes 
weren't about to glaze over in boredom, then continued. “Hades, King of the 
Dead, kidnapped her and took her down to the underworld.” Nikolas paused, 
dropping the knife and digging his fingers into the flesh of the fruit, and 
pulled it apart. The red juice spilt from the fruit and ran down his hands. He 
held out half the dripping fruit to Carly, who took it from him, cupping it in 
her hands. “Once in the underworld, Persephone's mother tried to get her back… 
But she'd swallowed six seeds from a pomegranate, so she had to stay there for 
six months of the year.” 

“With her Dark Prince.” 

Nikolas’ heart careened, without warning, against his rib cage. 

“I guess so.” 

Carly lifted the fruit up, lying it flat on her hands and smiled at him. She 
bowed her head and dug out several of the black seeds from the middle with her 
tongue, and pulled them into her mouth, swallowing them down quickly. She looked 
up at Nikolas, wiping the juice from her chin. 

Nikolas stared at her, his breathing increasing, then reached out and pulled her 
towards him, overwhelmed. Carly's arms encircled him, and she brought herself 
close to him, smiling at the indescribable expression on his face. She took his 
hand and raised it to her lips, kissing the juice from his fingers. 

“God,” his voice was hoarse as he drew her lips to his. “I'm falling in love 
with you,” Carly closed her eyes, slipping her arms over his shoulders. 

“Shhhh…” she whispered, kissing him. “Don't think about it.”