Here Chapter 18


She is about to snap back at the crack when the doors open again, revealing a well-lit underground garage, a well-dressed man waiting for them.

Sonny nods to the man, "Anthony," and walks briskly into the garage, leaving Carly to skip to keep up with him. Anthony follows a few steps behind.

She lets out a whistle when she sees the car where Sonny stops. "Pretty nice."

He shrugs, "It's all right."

It is a black, spotless Jaguar XK8 Coupe. Carly notes that whoever is assigned to the garage, presumably Anthony, has neatly folded the car's cover and placed it in a discreet corner.

She runs a hand along the low, shiny roof, "I didn't even know you had a car."

"Why would you?" he says reasonably, opening the car door for her.

The smell of the leather reaches her before she sees it. As she sinks into the dove-grey passenger seat, she feels as if she is floating. She runs her fingers along the polished walnut of the dashboard. It looks like it is from decades ago, but still manages to appear futuristic.

She quickly withdraws her hand and rests it on top of the agreement in her lap when Sonny gets in.

He looks at her, "Ready?"

"Yeah," she nods, anxious to find out how a vehicle like this rides. She did not see anything even remotely like this at the Quartermaines. In her opinion, AJ is too much of a wimp to buy a car like this. Ned maybe, but never AJ.

He fastens his seat belt, then waits for her to do the same. She does, with only the slightest bit of fumbling.

Sonny revs up the engine, which is as smooth and quiet as a hand brushing over silk, then heads out of the parking lot with nary a sound.

The ride to the brownstone is silent as Carly watches the dark streets pass by the tinted windows. Unfortunately, in Carly's mind, they hit every green light, there is no traffic, and her magic carpet ride is over within ten minutes as they pull up to the brownstone.

After the car stops, Carly is obvious in taking her time gathering her things.

He watches her for a few seconds, then, looking straight ahead, he scratches the tip of his nose and asks, "You want to take a ride somewhere?"

She shrugs nonchalantly, "Sure...if you want to."

He smiles slowly and shakes his head, knowing full-well she has no intention of getting out of his car any time soon. Then he pulls away from the curb with a jolt, his security not far behind them.

They drive tamely through the dark, empty city streets, whipping over the roads as if they are floating. Carly does not even ask where he is going, she is enjoying the ride so much. Then, seemingly instantly, they are on the interstate and flying.

Carly presses the button on her door handle and the window glides seamlessly into its pocket, letting the cool, fresh night air in.

With the first battery of cold air, Sonny turns to her, "Carly! It's cold out there!"

She laughs and puts her arm out of the window, bracing it against the air. Then she pops her head out of the window and yells, "OH YESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!," as if she is having the best orgasm of her life.

Which she is.

He shakes his head and hears himself laughing out loud. The sound is so unfamiliar to Sonny, it is almost jarring. He can not remember when he has felt so free. Or so alive. But he knows it has been a very, very long time.

******

Sonny takes the off-ramp, slowing down a bit to make sure his security is still with him, and turns onto a dimly-lit two-lane road.

Carly leans back on the headrest and closes her eyes. She says dreamily, "I've never ridden in a car like this before."

"You're kidding. Really?" he says sarcastically.

She turns her head and opens her eyes to look at him, prepared to say something nasty back. But she sees that he is smiling.

"Where are we anyway?" she asks, squinting to read the small street signs. They are in a residential area, one that looks very much like the Quartermaines'. Gated properties, high stone and brick walls, heavily-tended lawns.

He makes a few more turns on the windy roads and, out of nowhere, they are at the edge of a large body of water. Carly can see that it is a lake because the gorgeously-lit mansions on the other side are visible.

"Wow," she says under her breath at the scene.

Sonny just stares out at the water and does not comment.

She nudges him gently, "What is this? Makeout point or something?"

He looks at her, his eyes warm, "You really like this car don't you?"

She bursts into laughter, then places a hand on his knee. She undoes her seat belt, leans over the gear shift and licks his ear, reaching over to unfasten his seat belt as well. She whispers, "This car is hot."

He groans and shakes his head, "I don't think it's the car."

She narrows her eyes at him and smiles. Then she shrugs out of her jacket, climbs over the section between them and manages to straddle him.

"How much privacy do we have?" she asks, her hands lulling around his shoulders.

"As much as we want," he answers.

She looks out of the rear window, trying to make out the vehicle she knows is parked close enough to keep an eye on them. "Are you sure your guys won't see anything?"

He nods, his hands moving along her sides, settling at her waist.

She looks at him skeptically, "How do you know?"

He shrugs and says plainly, "Because they know what will happen if they do."

She bites her bottom lip and smiles playfully at him.

"What are you doing?" he asks in a low voice, not displeased, just interested.

Her smile fades a bit and he can see that her face is flushed. She lifts her shirt over her head and answers, "What do you think I'm doing?"

His eyes wander over her utilitarian white bra and her parted lips. Then he looks into her eyes, "Right here?"

She slides her bra straps down her shoulders and removes her bra, tossing it onto her empty seat with her shirt and her copy of the custody agreement. Then she leans forward, cups his face in her hands, and kisses his mouth, gently embracing his top lip, then his bottom, with her lips.

He runs his fingers along her bare spine and deepens the kiss, pushing her back until the horn goes off.

"Aack!" Carly jumps, laughing.

Then she looks over Sonny's shoulder, "No back seat in this thing?"

He shakes his head slowly, a smile creeping to his lips. He presses a button at his side and the back of his seat slowly reclines until he is almost flat on his back. He watches her eyes light up as they move position with the seat. He grins, "Who needs a back seat?"

******

To Carly, it seems as if the ride back to Port Charles lasts just a few seconds. When she'd closed her eyes, they'd been winding back through the lake houses. When she opened her eyes, they were in the underground garage in Sonny's building. She is surprised he did not take her back to the brownstone, but she does not object.

Only slightly disheveled, they walk past Francis again and into the penthouse. Sonny closes the door behind them and asks, "You hungry or anything?"

She shakes her head, still half-asleep.

Wordlessly, they head up the stairs to the bedroom.

Carly is so exhausted from the events of the day that she falls asleep the moment her head hits the pillow.

Sonny, on the other hand, can not sleep. Once in a while, he finds himself looking over at her and wondering what she is doing there, in his bed. Giving up on sleep, he props a pillow under his shoulders and clasps his hands, resting them on the top of his head.

After a long while of thoughtless pondering, he finally lets his eyelids drop.

******

She is in the shower stall. The water is steaming. Through the haze, she looks over at the older woman in the next stall, who is studiously looking at nothing. The woman absently scrubs flabby arms with the same rough, prison-issued washcloth.

When she looks over her shoulder, she sees them watching through eye-level window slits. Again.

She shivers and hurries to finish her shower, as if that will keep whoever the watchers are from getting a sick thrill. She tries to convince herself that to the watchers, she is just another number, but she can not help fearing that, at any moment, one of them could burst through the wall and grab her.

Every day. All day. They watch them. There is hardly a moment that passes when someone's eyes are not on her.

"Oh my God..." she murmurs, feeling them get closer. She feels the warmth of their breath on her back, but she is afraid to turn around. She looks at the older woman next to her for help, but the woman seems oblivious to what is happening. She closes her eyes tightly when the first contact is made. She wants to scream, but she can not.

Instead, she thrashes against the hands on her exposed body, scratching with her shortened, defenseless nails, jabbing with her pointy elbows, punching at the air with coiled fists.

But the hands fight her, holding her still. Finally, she hears herself scream, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo!"

The older woman is still scrubbing her arms, looking at nothing. Scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing. Scrubbing them raw.

"Carly..." the deep voice says into her ear. They are on top of her now.

She spits, "Get the hell away from me!!!!!!!!!"

"Carly!" Sonny shakes her, holding her hands away from him as she strikes at him from her dream.

She is still shaking, even after she opens her eyes and realizes where she is. She is not in Ferncliff, she is in Sonny's bed. It is not an unknown guard grabbing her, it is Sonny holding her steady, looking worriedly into her unseeing eyes.

"Carly..." he says again, more quietly when he can see that she is awake.

Her eyes move from side to side, still panicked. She pushes him away from her, "Stop it! Just keep your hands off of me!"

His eyes are wide. He tries to explain, "You were - you were having a nightmare or something..."

She gets out the bed and goes to the window, needing to see the night sky. Needing to prove to herself she is not in prison anymore.

He calls to her quietly from the bed, afraid to approach, "You all right?"

She nods, counting the stars.

He watches her carefully. The vehemence and violence she used to fight him off of her seemed like more than a bad dream to Sonny.

She bites on a fingernail, too embarrassed to turn around and face him. It has been a long time since she dreamed about Ferncliff. In fact, she's been foolish enough to believe she has put it all behind her.

He scratches the back of his head and asks again, "You sure you're okay?" He wants to ask what her dream was about, but does not.

After a long silence, she hears herself squeak, "Sorry."

"What...?" he lets the word hang in the air, figuring that she can decide what to do with it when she catches it.

She continues looking out at the view and whispers, "It was just a dream. I used to have it a lot, but it's been a long time..."

He waits.

She continues, as if still in her dream, "At Ferncliff, they used to watch us do everything. Even watch us, you know, take showers."

He looks down at his hands.

She rushes on with a shrug, minimizing, "I mean, nothing happened. They never touched us or anything."

Sonny moves his eyes to her, knowing, from both sides, that you don't have to touch someone to violate them.

"It was just," she shrugs again, kind of laughing, "I don't know. It just always scared me. I could never block it out. Everyone else just pretended nobody was looking at them." She finishes in a quieter voice, chewing on her thumbnail again, "I don't know why I could never do that..."

She takes a deep breath and tries to shake off the nightmare. She is ashamed to have told Sonny so much. Especially since he probably could not care less. Carly, the man probably just wants to go to sleep, she reproaches herself.

Slowly, she climbs back into the bed and pulls the covers up over her chest, lacing her fingers and trying to become as small and invisible as possible.

She closes her eyes and pretends to go back to sleep.

It is a few minutes later when she feels a gentle, tentative arm go around her protectively.

*******

The sun is up when Carly wakes again. This time alone. She is feeling uncommonly peaceful, despite the restless night.

She takes a quick shower and goes to grab Sonny's toothbrush.

Then she sees the brand new one, still in its packaging, sitting on the sink.

******

She walks slowly down the steps to where Sonny is drinking a cup of coffee and reading over some papers.

"Sonny..." she begins thoughtfully.

He grunts in response, not looking at her. He finally knows how uncomfortable she must have felt after that day when she'd seen his innermost demons screaming outside of him.

"You got me a toothbrush...?"

He looks at her then and shrugs, "Yeah."

She narrows her eyes at him, standing across the table from him, "That doesn't mean anything, right?"

He looks at her, tense, "It's a toothbrush, Carly." He explains offhandedly, "I was in the store, I saw it, I bought it. No big deal."

She says with a slight pout and annoying whine, trying to make sure, "But it's not one of those cheap travel ones. It's one of the good ones. With the blue bristles in it..."

He blinks at her, "$1.39, Carly."

She studies him, then nods, convinced. She laughs tensely, "I mean, the last thing we need is any misunderstandings, right?"

He agrees with a brief nod.

He watches her as she takes a deep breath, picks up her jacket, her purse, and the now-wrinkled custody papers. Then she walks to the front door and opens it, "I think I'll take the bus home."

He looks down at his papers again and nods his head her way, "Yeah. Fine. Whatever."

Then she is out of the apartment and in the elevator, her heart beating a mile a minute.

Sonny closes his eyes and groans after she is gone.

He thinks it is a good thing he did not tell her that he went to the store specifically for that damn toothbrush.