"Sly, I know this is hard, but please pay attention," Gail said with a smile.
"Oh, sorry," Sly said sheepishly. "What were you saying?"
Gail removed her red-rimmed reading glasses to look up at Sly. "I was asking how you're adjusting to being home."
"Ok, I guess," Sly said softly, rubbing his right foot slightly along the carpet.
"You guess?" Gail questioned. "So I imagine it hasn't been a completely smooth transition?"
Sly laughed humorlessly. "No, it hasn't. Emily and I are both pretty useless right now," he said, looking down at his arm, still bandaged and in a splint. "In more ways than one."
"Care to elaborate?" Gail said patiently, hoping to draw Sly out.
Sly looked at the small gold medal on the chain he wore around his neck. We could all use your help, Saint Jude, he thought. "Well, neither of us is in much shape for housework right now. It's been an adventure getting that done. You know, we try to make up for what the other one lacks. Emily will cut up my food for me, and I'll pick things up off the floor. We actually put our clothes on a little red wagon that used to belong to my cousin, and we roll it to the laundry room."
"Have you been receiving any help from your aunt and uncle or Emily's parents?" Gail asked. "It seems like an awful lot of work."
Sly nodded. "They've all been at the apartment a lot lately, cooking meals, buying groceries, washing the floor, stuff like that. It seems like they weren't around much before, so they're trying extra hard now, and they're overcompensating."
"And that doesn't leave you much time alone with Emily," Gail reasoned.
"Right. If I'm not here working with my occupational therapist or with you," Sly said with a shrug of his shoulders, "then Emily's with her mother getting more baby things, then it's off to Lamaze class, which I'm way behind in. There's so much going on right now, we hardly even see each other some days," he sighed.
"Do you think it's possible that you're deliberately avoiding each other?" Gail said, looking Sly directly in the eyes.
Sly shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'd say that was about right," Sly conceded. "I'm afraid to be alone with her sometimes. I don't want to hurt her and the baby," he whispered. "If we're not together all the time, then the chances go down."
Gail clasped her hands together on her desk. "Perhaps it would be helpful if we examined the factors that led up to the ultimately violent confrontation with Emily."
Sly colored at Gail's very analytical description. He would never be able to encapsulate everything that happened so neatly. The closest he could come sometimes was a train wreck. Two runaway cars heading down the same track, reaching their inevitable collision.
"Now, you've told me that you'd been experiencing fits of depression and hopelessness since well before your wedding."
"Yes," Sly said, still hating how weak that made him sound.
"And you had an admittedly rushed union with Emily. You were stuck in a job you hated, where you were constantly ridiculed by your boss, with no creative outlet," Gail continued. "Money was tight, and Emily was on an emotional and hormonal roller coaster of her own, making it harder to relate to her."
Sly thought for a moment about what Gail just said. "I can't deny any of that," he said finally, still surprised at hearing such an objective view. He'd been so wrapped up in himself and Emily that it was impossible to take a step back to see things with a healthy detachment.
"Tell me what you were feeling when you came home that day."
Sly bit his lip and thought for a moment. "I felt- I felt like a failure. Sly the screw-up couldn't even hold onto a simple job," he said, shame coloring his voice. "I didn't know what I was going to do. I was mad at myself for losing my temper. I wasn't sure if I could get another job. How was I going to feed my family? What was Emily going to think of me, now that I'd let her down, again?" The words came out in a rush. Sly batted away a tear that had somehow slipped by him and was rolling down his cheek. "I'm sorry, I don't like talking about this," he said with a quiver in his voice.
"I know this is painful, Sly, but sometimes we must experience pain in order to heal. But remember, this is a safe environment. You can say anything to me, and I won't judge you," Gail said compassionately. She walked around her desk and pulled up a chair, so she and Sly were face to face. "I want you to keep going. Describe what you were feeling."
Sly looked away from Gail. "I kept hearing his voice." Sly's face screwed up in pain, both real and imagined.
"Whose voice?" Gail asked gently.
"My grandfather's," Sly said through clenched teeth. "I could hear him. He would always say, 'You ruin everything you touch.'" As Sly recalled the memory, he could still hear his grandfather's voice, full of contempt and anger. Sly held his hand to his left ear, and tried to put his bandaged hand over the other. "Get out of my head!" he shouted suddenly. "You're dead!"
"Sly," Gail said loudly to get his attention. "Sly, your grandfather isn't here. He can't hurt you now," she said firmly.
Gail's words brought Sly back to reality. He brought his arms down and opened his eyes.
"Take a few deep breaths for me," she said calmly.
Sly complied, and he felt his embarrassment radiating throughout his body. "Why does that always happen to me?" he asked finally.
"Flashbacks are common for people with PTSD," Gail explained. "We're going to work on giving you ways to cope with them, with the hopes of eventually eliminating them." She motioned to Sly as if to ask if it were ok if she touched him. Sly nodded his assent, and she took his hand in hers. "Now, if what just happened now also happened on that day, then you were not only dealing with the stress of losing your job, but also the aftermath of a very painful flashback. Then you walked into a sudden confrontation with your wife."
Sly thought back to that day, and how Emily had shocked him with the bottle of vodka. It was an unexpected development. "I handled that all wrong," Sly said, casting his eyes downward.
"Sly, how old are you?" Gail asked, seemingly changing the subject.
Sly looked up at her incredulously. "You know how old I am."
"I want to hear you say it. How old are you?" Gail persisted.
"I'm nineteen," Sly said, unsure of where she was going with this general idea.
"And how old is Emily?"
"Eighteen."
"Would you say that's the height of maturity?" Gail asked.
Sly shook his head a little. "No," he said with a slight laugh.
"And how long had you been married at this point?" Gail said, and she could see that Sly was catching on to her train of thought.
"Just over two months," Sly said, sitting back a little in his chair.
"And of course, because you were together so long, you were just filled to the brim with the wisdom of a successful marriage," Gail said with a smile.
Sly actually smiled a little, too. "I see your point. We weren't exactly an old married couple."
"So let's put everything together: you and Emily are young and inexperienced to deal with the difficulties a partnership like this brings. And oh yes, there's also a baby on the way. Hardly the ingredients for a stress-free marriage," Gail summed up.
Sly sighed. "It still doesn't excuse what happened."
"No, you're right. It doesn't. But I'm trying to show you that our decisions don't just come from out of the blue. They're influenced by our environments, our pasts," Gail said, once again locking eyes with her patient. "You learned from an early age to keep your problems under wraps, to bury them and move on. It got you by before, but it isn't healthy. Inevitably, your problems piled up, and you just couldn't hold all that in anymore," she said, her voice full of compassion. "You didn't have the skills to cope with the situation, and you reverted back to something familiar. Unfortunately, for you, that was violence."
Sly squinted a little. "You know, Luke said something very similar to me recently."
Gail nodded. "And you trust his opinion?"
"Yeah," Sly said softly.
Gail spoke softly. "Then why won't you believe it?"
Sly didn't have an answer for that question. Why did he doubt when anyone tried to tell him that everything wasn't always his fault, when someone told him he was a good person? He slumped down in his chair, unable to find the reason.
Gail sensed a slight change in subject was in order. "Sly, I think it's time you have a heart-to-heart conversation with Emily. You both need to get your feelings out on the table."
Sly blanched. "I don't know, Dr. Baldwin," he said with genuine fear in his voice.
"I don't think it's a good idea to avoid this any longer. Ignoring your emotions is what got you into trouble in the first place," Gail said firmly. "You can't just think about yourself, Sly. You and Emily are going to have a child to raise in less than a month. Your baby deserves two parents who communicate, who have a healthy relationship. You can achieve that by being honest and open with each other."
"But I'm afraid of what might happen," Sly said, running his good hand through his short blonde hair. "What if we start arguing again?"
Gail leaned forward on her chair. "Why don't you set up a few ground rules? If you feel your anger start to build up, you are to leave the room immediately until you cool off. But don't let it progress that far. Just be sure to be clear and calm when you're discussing things. No insults or raised voices. It doesn't have to be a long talk. Break it up over a few days. If you're feeling overwhelmed, then say so to Emily. The same goes for her."
Sly mentally memorized Gail's suggestions. "Maybe it will be ok," he said hesitantly.
"Well, I think you have a well-developed sense of self control now," she said. "You kept your silence for all of those days. That certainly must have taken a lot of willpower."
"Or stubbornness," Sly said derisively.
"Sly, I want to make one thing absolutely clear before you go," Gail said in an extremely serious tone.
Sly sat up straighter in his chair. "What is it?" he asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.
"Violence has no place in any family. Now, I'm confident it will not come to this, but I must say it anyway," Gail said, her brown eyes boring into Sly's. "If you ever hit Emily, your marriage is over."
Sly swallowed a bit at the brutally honest fact. "I know that, Dr. Baldwin," he said finally. "But I've made a promise to myself, to my family, that I will never hurt them again." He looked back at Gail. "I intend to be a man of my word."
*-*-*-*-*-*
"I'm so glad you were able to come over, Nikolas," Emily said as she adjusted the floral throw pillow that was supporting her back. "And it was very nice of you to bring dinner, too."
"I'm sorry I haven't been around more often, Emily. Things have been strange since your wedding, and I've had some family things to deal with," Nikolas said softly as he sat beside her on the couch.
"That's the only part of my wedding I wish I could forget," Emily said, squinting as she tried to find a comfortable position. "But then again, this wouldn't be Port Charles if there wasn't a surprise or two." She looked sympathetically to Nikolas. "How is your uncle taking what happened to Helena?"
Nikolas' eyes briefly clouded over when he thought of his grandmother and everything she had put Stefan through. "My uncle is through with having any sort of feeling towards Helena, and I am the same," he said definitively.
Emily instinctively knew that that probably wasn't the case, but she decided to let the issue go. If Nikolas wanted to talk more about it, he could come to her. "Well, I'm sorry that I haven't been by to visit you, either. Not that I've had much time the past few months anyway."
"Emily, I understand completely," Nikolas said, his expensive silver watch sliding back on his arm. "Also, I'm aware of how difficult it must be for you to get around now."
"Oh, don't remind me," Emily sighed as she patted her stomach. "I feel like I can barely move. Sometimes Sly has to help me get out of bed in the mornings."
Nikolas leaned forward a little. "So he has been helping you."
Emily stopped fussing with the couch pillows and looked directly at Nikolas. "What are you implying, Nikolas?"
"Nothing," Nikolas said, holding up his hands as if to confirm his innocence.
"Sly is doing the best he can taking care of me," Emily said firmly. "And I'm doing the same for him."
Nikolas frowned. "But you shouldn't have to do that, Emily. You're just about ready to give birth, but you have to worry about him, his health, his feelings, when you should be focusing on yourself."
Emily was ready to scold Nikolas for even thinking about criticizing Sly, but she thought better of it. Instead, she thought about where the comments might be coming from. "What do you think marriage is, Nikolas?" she asked instead.
Nikolas opened his mouth to answer, but whatever quick comeback he had thought up disappeared. He looked down at the coffee table and folded his hands in his lap. "I'm not sure. It's not like I've ever seen a good example of it before."
"Well, don't look to us for any answers," Emily said softly. "But I believe marriage is a partnership. You have to work together, and look out for each other. Life isn't going to give you well-spaced problems. You've got to deal with the here and now. Sly and I are just trying to roll with the punches," she said, but when she saw the look on Nikolas' face, she wished she used a different phrase.
"I still can't believe that you're staying with him, even after he was going to hit you," Nikolas said with a shake of his head.
Emily sighed. "I don't know if I can keep explaining this to everyone. Sly didn't hit me. It never happened," she said, her brown eyes flashing with determination.
"I would never hit a woman," Nikolas said authoritatively.
Emily turned and caught him in her gaze. "Nikolas, do me a favor. This is my home. This is Sly's home. This will be our child's home. Leave your judgments about my husband and my marriage outside the door, or you won't find yourself welcome here anymore," Emily said coolly.
An awkward silence followed. Emily's words hit Nikolas square in the heart. He swallowed for a moment. "You know, Emily, you're right. It's not my right to judge," he said apologetically. "It's just that I care about you, and I don't want to see you hurt."
"I wish everyone would stop using that as an excuse to run my life," she said with a slight frown. Her expression changed, however, when she looked at Nikolas again. "But I understand that you only want the best for me. Trust me enough to let me decide what that is."
Nikolas took Emily's hand. "Emily, you were my first friend here, and you cared about me when not too many people did." His brown eyes shone with emotion. "I don't want to run your life. I just want to see you happy."
"I know that, Nikolas," Emily nodded. "You know, I'm thinking you're just jealous," she teased. "You know you had your chance with me, but you blew it," Emily smiled, her eyes full of good humor.
Nikolas was momentarily thrown by her comment, but he caught on quickly, and his nose crinkled up as he started to chuckle.
"Come here," Emily said, and she held out her arms.
Nikolas leaned in for a hug, but Emily's protruding stomach got in the way somewhat. "Not as easy as it used to be, huh?" Emily said, laughing with Nikolas.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly retrieved his keys from his left pants pocket, touching the keys to the T-Bird fondly. I haven't taken the car out in ages, and now it's going to be an even longer time, he thought wistfully.
He located his silver door key and inserted it into the lock. Luckily, he was able to exert enough pressure on the lock with his left hand that he didn't have to turn the knob much. He then threw his weight against the door to open it. He could hear Emily's laugh through the door, and it was a welcome sound.
When he opened the door, his keys fell abruptly out of his hand. His wife was on the couch in Nikolas Cassadine's arms.
Nikolas jumped slightly when the keys hit the floor, but Emily had heard the door opening, so she wasn't surprised. She left the embrace. "Hi, honey," she said, attempting to read the expression on Sly's face.
Sly crouched down and picked up his keys. He looked up to Nikolas's face, and he could see something new in his expression. Nikolas had always regarded him with either boredom or contempt. However, now Sly knew the look he was giving him was fear. He probably thinks I'm going to punch him for touching my wife, Sly thought. Or maybe he's afraid I'm going to hurt Emily for being with another man. He stood up and looked past Nikolas to a picture on the wall. Is that all anyone's ever going to think of me as anymore, an unstable mental patient? It must follow me around like a neon sign that I can't see. He's crazy, stay away, flashing in big red letters.
Emily could feel the tension skyrocketing in the room, so she did her best to diffuse it as quickly as she could. "Nikolas came over for a visit today. He brought us dinner. Wasn't that sweet of him?" she asked, smiling at her husband.
"Oh yeah, real sweet," Sly said softly, shifting uncomfortably by the door.
"Hello, Sly. How are you feeling?" Nikolas asked politely, reverting to prince mode.
Like you care, Sly thought with a twinge of bitterness, but it faded. "I'm fine," Sly mumbled, suddenly feeling a rush of anxiety that made him feel disoriented and overwhelmed. He had to get out of there, fast. "Excuse me," he said, walking past Nikolas and Emily. He headed straight into the bedroom and abruptly closed the door behind him.
Emily looked at the now empty hallway and sighed. Would life ever be the same again?
"I'm sorry if my presence disturbed Sly," Nikolas said, running his fingers across the multi-colored floral slipcover.
Emily shook her head. "Don't feel guilty about visiting me, Nikolas. I don't think you upset him. It's something else, something deeper."
"I should give you your privacy then, but I want to make sure you're going to be safe with him alone," Nikolas said in a worried tone.
Emily patted him on the shoulder. "I told you, we're fine. I know you've got the brooding Cassadine thing going on, but it would be ok if you lightened up a little," she gently teased.
"I get the message," Nikolas said with a slight smile as he stood up. "You promise you'll call me if you need anything?"
Emily nodded. "Actually, there's something you can help me with right now."
"Anything," Nikolas said sincerely.
"Help me get off the couch," she laughed as she held out her arms.
Nikolas very gently helped her up. When she was standing on her own, Emily gave Nikolas a hug. "You're a good friend, Nikolas Cassadine," she whispered.
"And you are too, Emily Eckert," Nikolas said. "I'm always here for you. Remember that."
*-*-*-*-*-*
Sly heard Emily and Nikolas exchange their good-byes and pledges of undying friendship, and it just added to the uneasiness that he felt. He paced the length of the small room, hoping to shake the feelings that were eating away at his nerves. He hated when he got like this. It was hard to even pinpoint exactly what was wrong himself. He just felt jumpy and nervous, and troubled, almost like he was coming unraveled.
He picked up a small silver picture frame that was on top of the dresser. In it was a picture of Emily, Nikolas, Lucky and Elizabeth. Sly guessed it was taken a few years ago, before Lucky was kidnapped. Everyone in the picture was smiling, and it was obvious they were naturally comfortable around each other. Sly stared at the picture, evidence of happier times in Emily's life. Do I ever make her this happy, he wondered.
There was a soft rap at the door. "Sly, are you ok?" Emily asked softly.
Sly was ready to give his standard issue positive response, but stopped before the sound reached his lips. He had to be more honest with Emily, or their marriage didn't stand a chance. "I'm not feeling too great right now, Emily," he said, putting down the picture with a sigh.
"Well, is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" she said, her palm flat against the door, wanting to feel closer to Sly.
Sly thought it over. "Did Nikolas leave yet?"
"Yes, he did," Emily said.
"Maybe you should go after him," Sly said with deep resignation.
"Why?" Emily was puzzled, but she still didn't enter the room in the hopes that Sly would invite her in instead.
"You should go with Nikolas, Emily. He can take care of you. Do yourself and our baby a favor and leave me now," Sly said, and he choked back a sob.
Emily wasn't expecting that. "Sly, can I come in, please?" she asked, her voice full of confusion.
"The door's open. Do what you want," Sly said as he sat on the bed. He grabbed one of the pillows and clutched it to his chest. This is for the best, he thought.
Emily walked into the room and found Sly on the bed. She longed to take him in her arms and hold him, but she knew he probably wasn't ready for that. Instead, she sat next to him and tried to look into his eyes. She could tell that Sly was struggling with some mixed emotions probably made worse by seeing her with Nikolas. "Ok, Sly, I think I need an explanation. I thought you and I were working on our marriage. It seemed like we were making some progress." Emily's brown eyes were soft when she made eye contact with her husband. "So why do you want me to leave you?"
"For your own good," Sly said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself.
"Sly, where did this come from?" Emily asked, genuinely perplexed.
Sly released his grip on the pillow, and he let it fall to the floor. He kept his eyes there, too. "When I walked in today and I saw you in Nikolas' arms, it hit me."
Emily sighed. She thought that this was probably what Sly was upset about, but she thought he might be angrier. "So what hit you?" she asked. "Nothing was going on between us."
Sly nodded. "I know that. I trust you," Sly said sincerely. He finally got the courage to look into her eyes. "When I saw you with him, a realization hit me. You both looked so natural and relaxed with each other." He smiled sadly. "And a voice, my conscience, I guess, told me that this is how it was always meant to be."
"What do you mean, Sly? Meant to be?" Emily said, desperately wanting to understand.
Tears began to well up in Sly's brown eyes, but he willed himself not to cry. "You were meant to be with Nikolas. I know it," he said, his left hand visibly shaking.
"Oh Sly, that's not true!" Emily cried.
Sly shook his head. "No, Emily, just think about it. Nikolas can make you happy. He can keep you safe. You would never have to worry or want for anything with him." Sly sniffled a bit. "You wouldn't have to be constantly psychoanalyzing him, trying to figure out his moods. Life would be peaceful and normal," Sly sighed.
To both of their surprises, Emily started to laugh. Sly was taken aback, but Emily couldn't stop. "Well, it's obvious you haven't really thought about this," she chuckled in spite of herself. "Think about what you were saying. Nikolas is a Cassadine. How will life ever be peaceful or normal for him?"
Sly thought for a moment. Emily was right. "So maybe that was an exaggeration," he conceded.
"And Nikolas has his fair share of issues, just like the rest of us. He hides them with that prince act, but I'd say he's probably due for some psychoanalysis of his own," Emily said, turning more serious.
"You would still be better off," Sly persisted, his face flushed with emotion.
"Why do you think that, Sly?" Emily wanted to get to the bottom of this before it became a major problem between them.
Sly ran his hand across his brow. "When I came home today, Emily, you were laughing. When was the last time you laughed, really laughed like that with me?" He moved the pillow around on the floor with his foot for a bit. "Nikolas makes you happy. You can have a good life with him. I bet he'll be a good husband. You and Nikolas can raise the baby and you don't ever have to tell him about me. Everyone will be better off."
Emily gently touched Sly's face so he would look in her eyes. "Sly, listen to me, please. No one would be better off in that situation. Our baby deserves her real father, the love that only you can give her." Emily's eyes shone with conviction. "And in case you haven't noticed, Nikolas doesn't want me, and I don't want him. I'm in love with you!" she cried. "Nobody makes me as happy as you do, and no one ever will."
"How can you be sure?" Sly said hesitantly, wanting to believe everything Emily said.
"I just know, Sly. It's the same as knowing that the sky is blue or that the sun will rise in the morning. You can't define love, but you can sure feel it." She stroked his cheek. "Sly, we've been going through some very rough times lately. We're both under a lot of stress. But that doesn't mean that I'm not glad to be with you. When things settle down more, we'll both be in better moods. We'll just naturally start to feel happier. You'll see."
"I don't know, Emily. My life seems to be one trauma after another," Sly said honestly.
"I don't know why the cosmic ledger sheet seems so out of balance sometimes, Sly," Emily said with sadness of her own. "But I whatever happens, you've got to believe that I will be there for you, and we will weather those storms together. I love you, Sly, weak or strong, imperfections and all," Emily said, a tear spilling down her cheek.
A few tears slipped down Sly's cheek as well. "Emily, I want to believe you. But I have to know this." He took a deep breath. "Are you afraid of me?" He waited for her answer, his whole world seeming depending on the outcome.
Emily vigorously shook her head. "No, Sly, I'm not afraid of you. In my heart, I knew that you would never deliberately hurt me. And you didn't. You did not hurt me, and you never will."
Sly had been steeling himself for a negative reaction, but that didn't happen. He didn't trust what he just heard, so he asked the question again. "So you're really not afraid of me?" he asked, afraid to hope.
"No, Sly, I'm not afraid of you," Emily whispered. "Even though you are pretty scary looking first thing in the morning," she grinned.
"Oh baby, you don't know what that means to me," Sly said, genuinely beaming.
Emily's heart leapt at Sly's relief. "Now this makes me happy," she said.
"What?" Sly asked, taking her hand.
"Seeing you smiling again. When you're happy, I am too," Emily said, her smile matching Sly's.
Sly looked at his wife, and he knew that it was true. It was so long since he had felt this kind of reprieve from his problems; it almost felt too good to be true. "So we're both happy," he said.
"Yeah, go figure," Emily said with gentle humor.
Sly impetuously leaned over and drew Emily into a hug, relishing the feel of her soft skin against his. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling its sweet fragrance. "You fit just right in my arms," he said appreciatively.
Emily ran her hands along Sly's back and held on with the intention of never
letting go. "Of course I fit, Sly," she whispered. "You're where
I belong."