Steve gasped with the sudden arrival. After having been dead asleep, he had no idea where he was and was lost in the disorientation of the unknown evening he’d arrived into. He lost the balance this body had and nearly fell over the balcony to what would have, certainly, been his death to the lawn two stories below.
“Da fuck?!” The firm hand that grabbed Steve by the back of his suit jacket pulled him back to safety, but he still couldn’t right himself and fell to the floor of the stone terrace.
It was one of the worst arrivals Steve had ever experienced, and his disorientation was so bad that he wasn’t even quite self-aware enough to know his own name. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he felt the room spinning at a disgusting velocity, his inner ear unable to resolve the instantaneous change in orientation. One moment he was asleep on his side in 1984, the next he was standing upright on a fall evening in 1998. His sinuses felt something very painful as the slipstream cracked with this dent in time, and a small stream of blood dripped from Steve’s nose.
Did we jump? Steve found the wherewithal to question within himself. Not yet. Please be dreaming. Please let me be dreaming.
“He’d better not be drunk on the job,” a strong, older voice spat angrily.
“We been with him all day,” the man who’d pulled him back defended, “this is the only thing he’s had,” referencing the glass of scotch that had fallen out of Steve’s hand and was now in pieces on the terrace.
Steve knew both of these two voices and went into immediate panic mode. He realized he’d jumped in his sleep, and was now knee deep in one of the worst places he could have possibly been: the large compound of Martino Vitali. There was no worse way to jump than in your sleep, and there was almost no worse place to jump to than a time when he was with Ava; the combination gave him an immediate sense of anger, bitterness, mourning, and a good bit of fear as to his ability to get to Kayla – or for her to get to him.
“Clean him up,” Martino barked at his brother. “He’s bleeding on my furniture.” Then he went back into the mansion through the sliding glass door and closed it behind him.
“Come on, Patch,” Angelo said as he lifted Steve to his feet. “What the hell’s happening with you?”
Steve stifled a groan, hoping to God he jumped immediately. The spin was slowing, but the pain in his sinuses as his nose bled had not waned. Jump, goddammit, jump!
“Patch, come on!”
Steve finally squinted his eye against the grounds’ bright floodlights and instinctively went to adjust his patch. As his eye rolled, Angelo tried manhandling him into normalcy.
“Patch! You havin’ a stroke or something, what the fuck is the matter with you?!”
Steve was finally able to focus a little when Angelo started wiping the blood from Steve’s nose with the handkerchief he’d taken out of his inside pocket. Steve tried to wave him away, but the jump effect hadn’t waned enough for him to stabilize and was ineffective at the swatting.
“You’d better say something before I break more of your nose!”
“I’m fine,” Steve finally managed.
Angelo grabbed Steve’s chin in his hand and moved his head back and forth as if to check for some kind of defect, the blood having stopped. After a few moments looking Steve right in the eye, he seemed satisfied and smacked him on the cheek a couple times. “Ya have yourself a dizzy spell, Princess? What the fuck was that, ya almost went over.”
“Yeah. Thanks, not sure, just got dizzy.”
“I can’t keep an eye on both of you, so whatever you got, keep it to yourself, I don’t need any more to worry about with Ava.”
Steve’s vision was a lot better, but now his skin crawled. “No, I’m fine, just hungry. Whisky on an empty stomach.”
“Yeah … right …,” Angelo looked at him skeptically but moved on.
“So listen, we’re not doin’ the Rockford job, I sent Carmine. I’m goin’ back to Chicago, you’re staying here with Martino.”
Steve just blindly nodded as he struggled to get his bearings. Like with so many jumps after long stays, his head was fully immersed in Cleveland, and as far as he was concerned, Kayla was still asleep next to him. Now he had to figure out where she was, which as far as he knew was in LA if this was the late ‘90s. Little Sweetness. The thought of seeing his daughter again hit him right in the pit of his stomach, giving him a massive, grueling wave of homesickness. It swept through him like something uninvited from the primordial ooze.
“Now what?!” Angelo sneered. “Seriously, what the hell is the matter with you?! Is it Ava?”
“N-no?”
“What, you’re asking me? I’m asking you!”
“No, it’s not Ava, I’m just …” Steve grinned lightly remembering his daughter sprinkle sage on him from behind the couch, “… remembering something.”
Angelo got a look a mild disgust on his face. “Ya mind not sharing your morning escapades with me? She’s my niece.”
With that vulgar assumption, Steve had his head on straight now. “Listen,” he spoke with more of the tone he knew was expected of him, “I’m fine, just need something to eat, ok? I got you, you’re going to Chicago, Carmine’s going to Rockford, I’m staying here with Ava and the old man.”
Now Angelo was really getting mad. “Patch? Are you drunk, actually? You know damn well Ava’s where we just left her in Chicago! I know you wanted to get back with her tonight, but you gotta get your shit together, man, ‘cause you do not wanna piss him off. You know how he feels about you. Now I’m the one’s gotta go make sure she’s not leaving a mess back there, you stay here. You got me?!”
Steve was so much more confused than he would have been if he’d just had the opportunity to jump without the complicating factors that followed him here – from a dead sleep, jump effect potted up to eleven, with brand new nosebleed feature. He took a very deep dive into his memory banks for when this could have been. It had to be just a few years, but he needed the exact one. He knew there was a time that Ava came with them on a job they had in Chicago and then west to Rockford. Something about making some organized crime deals. He vaguely remembered that he, Angelo, and Carmine had business, and Ava had done her own thing while she was there, but that’s as detailed as it got. He had no clue if this was that time, and even if it was, there was nothing specific about it that mattered. What did give him a little relief, however, was the concept that Ava was not actually here. Martino was, but she was not, and that was a better case scenario.
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
With that, Angelo shoved the wadded up handkerchief against Steve’s chest, which he took, then he turned and walked back into the house through the sliding glass door. Once he was out of Angelo’s eyeshot, Steve leaned heavily against the stone terrace and let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “Ok. Ok. Just—ok.” He forced himself to take stock before he moved a muscle from where he was. Who am I, where am I, and where’s Kayla? Those were the priorities. Only he looked down at the bloody handkerchief he realized he was holding and realized there was something new to think about. The pain and the bloody nose. And he instinctively just knew, this was an effect of what Time was doing to them in the slipstream. He knew it like he knew his name. There was no doubt in his mind, this was not something this body was experiencing, it was the slipstream. And it gave him a significant stir of electricity down his spine with the realization that they did, indeed, make something happen. That it was bodily damaging was something he filed away for pondering another time; for now, the fact that it happened was enough.
He wasn’t lying about food, this body hadn’t had a meal in a while and was giving him hunger pangs. But he had to push through that, because nothing was more important right now than the date so he could figure out exactly where Kayla was. So, before he went for the grapes from the fruit bowl on the terrace’s table, he fished for the cellphone he knew had to be on his person somewhere, and sure enough, there it was in his suit jacket’s inside pocket. The Nokias were pretty tiny by late ‘90’s standards but sure felt like a brick compared to the smartphone he left back at home 12 years ago. Even so, he was so happy to see it, so rare was a jump where he got to use a cellphone.
It had been a while since he’d scrolled through one of these, but he eventually he found the date. October 2, 1998. Two years almost to the day before his adult jump to LA, nearly 30 after his high school jump. “No Pocket, no Benji here, Sweetness,” he whispered to himself. “No Baby Boy Johnson, either. He sighed and then mentally moved on.
He headed to the small room that was once his; Ava had her own, but she was in here enough that her scent was there, and he was not the least bit happy to be breathing that in. Steve knew right where Kayla was and how to get there, so it was time to pack and get out. And without Ava actually here, leaving would be easier than the last time he left her, because this time Dimera wasn’t on his tail. Steve physically reacted to the mob daughter’s Calvin Klein Obsession scent, and boy did that ever fit her.
Steve picked up the phone in his room and immediately called the house he and Kayla had shared for four years. The machine picked up, so he hung up, knowing exactly how a Destination Kayla would react to his voice. He then tried his wife’s cellphone and was a lot more crestfallen when it went right to voicemail. She hadn’t found him yet, plus she didn’t answer her cellphone. If Kayla had arrived first, there’s no way she wouldn’t be clinging to a fully-charged cellphone like a lifeline. Ambivalent as hell, he hung up again. Glancing at his watch and calculating that it was late afternoon in LA, he decided to try the phone that rang at the desk he knew damn well she wasn’t in yet, because she was still a third-year med student right now, not a resident. But he was out of options and tried it anyway.
“Dr. Becker,” a female voice answered.
Not a name Steve knew, but why would he. “Uh … yeah, I’m looking for Dr. Kayla Johnson.”
“I’ve never heard of her. She’s with oncology?”
“Actually, she’s a med student.”
“Oh, well you’re a little premature on the ‘doctor,’ then. This isn’t the med school, it’s the oncology department. I’d transfer you, but we can’t do that from these phones.”
“Yeah, so she’ll be there in her rotation … eventually …”
“She can’t be due here yet, I just got here. Hold on, lemme look.” Steve had nothing to lose by letting the young doctor sitting at the desk that would one day be Kayla’s look for her. He didn’t expect the woman to find her, so he was fairly shocked at the next bit of information.
“Oh, she’s with that group. Yeah, there’s a ton of them at the medical device conference.”
“Oh,” Steve said, “right up at the LA Convention Center.”
“No, the one at McCormick Place.” Steve’s pulse started to run a little faster. He knew where McCormick Place was. And it was not in LA. “Wait, who are you, again?”
Steve thought really fast. “I’m with—Dr. Bond’s—office. He and—Dr. Granger—are trying to settle the rotation schedules for the third years.”
“Oh. That’s a little weird, I didn’t realize there was going to be a change. Ok, well that whole group is at the conference with both of them, so—wait a minute, what’s your name?”
Steve hung up.
“You’re right here in Chicago, baby?” Now Steve had a choice to make. Somehow hunt the labyrinth of a place that was the million city blocks of McCormick Place in Chicago and try to find his wife there like a needle in a haystack; or go to LA and wait for her back at the house. Staying here in Brookville was not an option. It only took a moment for him to decide; he’d been without her for two years, he wasn’t waiting. He’d find her in Chicago.
Steve grabbed the exact same duffel bag that he’d find two years later when he’d run from his hotel room in Las Vegas, filled it with everything he was going to need for the short haul, and headed for the back door.
“You fix this shit, Angelo.” It was Martino’s voice coming from the kitchen of the estate. Steve immediately backed up and shoved himself into an alcove around the corner.
“I’m doin’ what I can, but she got the first part done this morning.”
“You weren’t supposed to let that first part happen!”
“She’s a grown-up, how am I supposed to stop ‘em? I practically barged in there and got him to work, so maybe she couldn’t get enough—ya know.”
“You’d better hope not. She’s your responsibility, Angelo!”
“Brother, I got him out and left her there. The rest of it is all her doing. I can’t help it if your daughter is smart and knows how to write an insurance policy.”
“Yeah, she’s smart. Gonna smart herself right into trouble I’m not signing off on. Now fix it, ‘cause I’m not having that.”
Steve didn’t care what this was about, he just wanted out of this house. He slowly inched away from the wall to head toward a side door when the next thing Angelo said made him freeze before he could get anywhere.
“I got Johnson out of there, didn’t I?” he repeated. “The only thing I care about is Ava. I love her like my own kid, and if you gave her a chance without the meds, maybe she’d obsess about him a little less.”
Johnson? Did Angelo just call me by my name? When they don’t know who I am?
“What do you think I’ve been doing?!” Martino spat. “She’s off her meds now, and she’s more obsessed not less! She’s so fixated on him she’s got this bullshit scheme to put his kid in her!” Steve’s heart sank into his stomach. What the hell? “Now, you go back to Chicago, and you get my daughter away from Kayla Johnson. And, Angelo, I don’t care what you have to do to the woman, disappear her if you have to, but you do whatever you have to do to her so she doesn’t blow everything. You don’t let Patch near either one of ‘em, and you make this go away. You got me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Steve whispered.
“Patch don’t know who he is and don’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, he’s got no reason to do anything but stay here and wait for Ava to get back.”
“Well, you’ve got yourself an hour’s drive, so hurry it up before I have to start lining up an abortion.”
Steve was sweating, and he felt his pulse all the way up into his temples. Panic was sweeping through him, and the amplification effect was making it worse. Angelo left through the exact door Steve had been heading for, Martino sat down at the table with a newspaper and his whisky, and Steve had to think very, very fast. This was not the first time he had to be in the immediate present upon arrival, and it wasn’t even the first time he’d jumped into a past he had no memory of. It was, however, a perfect storm of so many worst-case scenarios that he was in a serious struggle for clarity.
They know my name. They know Kayla. They know she’s in Chicago. And Ava … God, what is she doing with my wife?
What could she be doing with his wife? They’d never met before the plane crash. Never said two words to each other. They didn’t know of each other’s existence. So whatever was happening maybe wasn’t actually happening? Right? Or maybe Angelo stopped it from happening. Even as Steve crept along the side of the massive garage, he didn’t know if he was overreacting or underreacting. But as Angelo pulled out in the black Lincoln and Steve got a momentary glimpse of the man’s visage in the side mirror, he got a very keen sense of dread. This wasn’t an overreaction. He didn’t know for sure what it was, but he knew it was bad.
“Angelo,” Steve whispered. “Follow Angelo.” Steve fought the tears of panic that wanted to just explode from him and forced himself to focus. He had precious few moments to get himself into the car that was his while he worked for Martino and follow Ava’s uncle. If he didn’t he’d have no opportunity to find Kayla.
A lot of terrible things ran through Steve’s mind. None of them nailed what Ava had actually done.
==============================
Egg harvesting is a very painful business that involves a lot of drugs and hormones. Follicular maturation, rapid ovulation preparation, the actual removal of eggs directly from the ovaries via a large needle inserted through the vaginal wall, and the pharmacological infrastructure the body needs to tolerate it. Like pain killers. The ones provided in the propofol anesthetic cocktail for this procedure were not well formulated and were, therefore, not doing a very good job.
“Ava!” Kayla barely choked out after the scream she’d let out, “Where am I?! What are you doing?!”
“Why is she still awake?!” Ava barked again. “And why is she talking to me like she knows who I am?!”
“Maybe because you just spilled your guts out to her,” the nurse said.
“That was before the propofol. She was asleep. She shouldn’t be remembering any of this. She shouldn’t be awake!”
“And you all shouldn’t be talking at all while I’m doing this retrieval, so shut up all of you.” The doctor situated between Kayla’s legs was doing very delicate work and wasn’t in a position to let go of any of his instruments, so he sat very still as he drilled a look that meant business into Ava Vitali, the woman in charge of this whole thing. “Tina,” he directed to the nurse but never took his eyes off of Ava, “put the patient back under, right away please, before she feels any more pain and I damage an ovary.”
“W-w-what are you doing?!” Kayla tried directing to the doctor. She was able to lift her head now and see that she was in a hospital gown but couldn’t see much beyond the sheet draped at her waist. The pain in her inner ear also kept her relatively dizzy. Kayla had never been through IVF, but she knew what it entailed, and she now understood exactly what was happening to her. What she didn’t understand was how it was possible, since it had never happened to her a first time through. Because you’re dreaming. It’s not really happening. This never happened. The unmistakable uterine pain stabbing through her begged to differ, as did the continued pressure in her sinuses that caused her ear to ache terribly with a crackle and pop. “Is this IVF? Why are you performing IVF?”
Kayla’s eyes darted wildly. Then all she could do was squeeze them shut as she shoved her head back into the table with the acute groin pain stabbing through her. It would have doubled her over if she wasn’t already prone on her back. It was procedures like this that were why anesthetics like propofol with anti-memory event properties were used. If only they were used correctly.
“Don’t cry Sweetness,” Ava taunted when she saw the tears spill down the sides of Kayla’s face. “You won’t remember a thing after all this is over, and I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Kayla darted her head all over now, blood starting to drip out of her ear canal, and the movements jostling the fragility of the procedure.
“Kayla, if you keep moving, you’re going to be damaged, please stop!”
“But—!”
“Tina, I’m not going to tell you again. Get more propofol in her right now.”
“I don’t care if you damage her ovary,” Ava muttered, “as long as you get me her eggs first.”
“Dear God! No! No, stop! Please, I’m begging you, stop!”
“Well, I very much care, because I’m still a doctor, with or without your ultimatums, and any damage threatens the integrity of the eggs. And judging what I see here,” he angled his head to the ultrasound monitor, “you’re not getting more than two.”
Kayla was sobbing and felt the wetness of tears and blood pooling at the nape of her neck. “Please! Please, Ava, stop! You—you never did this! You don’t want to do this! It was the drugs … your father … I took you off of them, you were better! This never happened! What is happening?!”
Now Ava pushed the nurse aside and leaned down to Kayla’s ear. “You shut the hell up you delirious cunt. Shut the hell up right now. I am so tired of Patch screaming for you in his sleep! I’m so tired of hearing ‘Sweetness, Sweetness, Sweetness’ from some former life that I’m not part of! I’m so tired of knowing he might finally remember you and your kid! I’m so tired of trying to give him what you did! And I’m tired of hearing your goddamned voice! I hate you! Now you go back to sleep, and you do what this drug is supposed to do and forget all of this, and you give me those eggs so I can make Patch’s baby!”
This dumbfounding revelation fell over Kayla like a cold shroud, throwing her into a stunned silence. In fact, everyone in the room had stopped talking, the only sound now the whir of the OR machinery. The doctor took this opportunity to take back control.
“Ladies. I want to be very clear.” His voice was calm and even, but his tone was a veritable shout. “I am short at least three additional personnel right now, and no matter how much I’m threatened by you, Miss Vitali, if I can’t do my job properly, you won’t get her eggs, anyway. So everyone gets to shut up now.”
“D-d-d-doctor!” Kayla begged.
“And that includes you, Kayla,” the OB snapped. “Be. Quiet. And unless you don’t care about your future fertility, stop trying to move. Tina, where’s that propofol?!”
Kayla could not process everything that was happening with any kind of rationality, but she was clear on one thing. This body was not going to need its fertility, and she was not giving her eggs to Ava without a fight. So Kayla mustered up every bit of strength she had, fought against the anesthetic cocktail that was very poorly administered by the nurse in the absence of a legitimate anesthesiologist, and kicked her legs out of the stirrups as hard as she could.
==============================
Steve pulled into the concrete parking structure of Michael Reese Hospital on the south side of Chicago just after Angelo Vitali did. Once a premier teaching institution, its reputation had waned to anything but by 1998 and, in fact, would be shuttered by the time they started jumping. It was not where the best and the brightest wanted to be matched. It was not where those who could pay wanted to be treated. It was not where adequate budgets ensured good security, upkeep, and staffing. And as a result, it was not a very full parking lot. Angelo would have spotted the tail but was distracted by what he knew his niece had gotten herself into and had no reason to believe Steve was following him. It was after 7pm, and the poorly lit lot gave Steve a decent amount of cover, so Angelo didn’t see him park his own dark car and follow him into the hospital.
Steve kept trying to call Kayla’s cell over and over, but it only ever went to a phone that had been turned off inside a purse sitting in the corner of the OR. Not the least bit sterile, but no one there was paying very good attention to such things.
Angelo stopped two hallways up and turned around. Steve was far enough back that he was able to keep himself hidden around perpendicular hallways, but he saw when Angelo dialed his phone. Suddenly his hushed tones got very animated, the black suit jacket swinging with his movements, and he made a beeline to the right. Steve darted out to follow him, hitting a dead end of elevator banks. The only one moving stopped on the 2nd floor. Steve didn’t wait; he took the stairwell up the one flight and saw nothing of any consequence. Personnel that belonged there, doorways that led to departments that meant nothing. There was no sign of Angelo, Ava, or Kayla.
Steve turned and tried going the other way until he came to double doors without markings, and he realized this was not a wing that was currently used. It wasn’t like some kind of abandoned, creepy vibe like in the movies, it just wasn’t a working part of the hospital. No one was in this area, the staff he’d encountered were all going the other way. Which is why he immediately went through these doors.
The next thing he heard was Kayla screaming.
==============================
Kayla’s right foot made solid contact with the doctor’s cheekbone as she let out an aggressive grunt of force. He cried out in pain as the nurse named Tina startled, but the man trained to handle his instruments did not let go of them, even as he was being assaulted. He did not, however, keep his hands steady. Kayla expected the pain, but it was quite spectacular, and she let out a shriek. She could feel the speculum still inside her, and her womb was throbbing in sharp, horrible pain, but Kayla was in fight or flight, and she was now fully engaged in both. Before the doctor could recover, Kayla kicked a second time, then a third for one hit, one miss, and finally the doctor let go of all the apparatus of this procedure. Kayla continued screaming at the top of her lungs and felt herself start to slide off the table, even as the nurse tried to restrain her. Ava had become a deer in the headlights with just how quickly and how far south this had gone. She was still holding her phone with the line open to her uncle when the nurse yelled at her for help. Even with the two women trying to hold her down, Kayla somehow got herself halfway turned on her side through the stirrups, but her arms were still tightly secured onto the table with the Velcro straps. She absently noted that immobilization standards had been followed, even amidst the flagrancy for standards that hadn’t.
It was then that Angelo came bursting through the door of this disused operating room. “Ava!” His niece stared at him as he stared at the unbelievable sight on the operating table. “What have you done?!” That was when Steve barreled in not more than five seconds after Angelo had.
“Kayla!”
Everyone’s heads snapped toward the two of them, and for a moment no one moved. No one spoke. And no one breathed. Except for Kayla, who was weeping in a bloody, twisted mess before them, and Steve who did not hesitate to go to her and rescue her from this torture chamber.
“Steeeeeeve!” Kayla croaked out between sobs. She could not believe he was there. It was another version of him she’d never seen from unshared time, but she knew he was her Steve, and to make sure he knew it was her, she cried, “Stockholm!” through her gravelly, hoarse voice.
Steve charged past everyone and went right to her side. The vulnerable position and her clear state of harrow were a shock to him, and he wanted to kill everyone in that room, but he had to leave it on the buffet, because his wife needed him. “I’m here, Sweetness! I’ve got you, baby, I’m here!” But he saw how much instrumentation there was and didn’t know how to free her. “I don’t know what to do!” She’d become twisted in the surgical drape, and he didn’t know where to focus his attention first. He just wanted to hold her and pray for a jump.
“Patch?” Ava called to him weakly before advancing on him slowly. “Patchy?”
Steve stood at his full height, turned toward her, and loomed between the two women with his hand protectively on Kayla’s shoulder. “Don’t come near her. I swear I’ll kill you.”
Angelo took a step toward them to put in his two cents, but Steve was not having it and took out his sidearm that had been packed into his pants the entire time. “I will absolutely use this on anyone who gets near my wife.” Ava tried going to Steve again, but he cocked the gun and pointed it at her head. “Especially you!” he rasped. Not a one of them doubted the veracity in his statement.
The doctor was nearly passed out on the floor at the foot of the table, the nurse had retreated to the corner in serious fear, Angelo had stepped to Ava’s side to protect her, and Kayla was clutching onto Steve’s free hand as she tried not to writhe in pain.
“I just wanted to give you our baby!”
“Shut up! Just shut up!”
“But I love you!”
“Well, I hate you! NOW SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!”
“Steve,” Kayla squeaked, “help me sit up! Please I can do it, just help me sit up!”
“The—the sheet—”
“HELP ME SIT UP!” Steve pulled her up while keeping his eye on Ava and Angelo, then nearly let her go when she let out another cry in pain. “Don’t let go!” she insisted, “just hold me up!” Tears ran down his face as he did what he was told, and Kayla reached down beneath her gown and pulled out the speculum without unfastening it and dropped it to the floor. It hurt so bad, but once it was out, the relief was overwhelming. Her tears joined his, and they both worked at undoing the arm straps and pulling out her IV. Finally free, Kayla instinctively looked for antiseptic and bandages for the open puncture where her IV had been, but everything was now on the dirty floor, so she just clutched on to her husband and enfolded herself against him while she bled from at least three places.
“Please get me out of here!” she begged.
“You’re hurt, baby, you need a doctor. A real doctor.”
“I can do it. I’m ok. Please.” But in reality, she had no idea if she was truly ok or not.
“You,” Steve directed to the nurse, “where are her clothes?” When the woman just cowered, he used a little more convincing by training the gun on her. “CLOTHES! NOW!” The woman picked up the plastic bag she’d placed Kayla’s clothing in and shoved it at him. “Purse, too,” he snapped when he spotted it. The nurse kicked it over to him, and Steve picked it up and wrapped the strap around himself. Inside the plastic bag were shoes and a dress.
“Patch, listen,” Angelo started.
“All of you get out, and take this piece of shit with you,” referring to the doctor who’d scooted back against the wall from the heap he’d been on the floor. “And if any of you come near my wife ever again, I will kill you.” Ava started crying at Steve’s reference to Kayla as his wife, and Angelo tried again.
“Patch, I got orders to kill you both.”
“No!” Ava insisted.
“I heard the whole thing. What are you gonna do, off us right here in a hospital?”
Angelo looked at him, then at Ava, then back at him. “I’m gonna clean this up like I said. You don’t ever come back. You stay disappeared and never come back.”
“No, you can’t take him away from me!” Ava was suddenly very clear-voiced.
“Ava,” Angelo said as he grabbed her by the shoulders, “honey. He’s already gone.”
“Steve—please—please—get me—out—please—I wanna go home—please—Steve—Steve.” Kayla was hyperventilating, Steve’s heart was utterly broken, and he wasn’t going to deny her another moment.
“Ok, baby, it’s ok. We’re goin’ home.” He took off his suit jacket and put Kayla’s arms into it, closing it around her over the hospital gown. Then he picked her up and aimed himself toward the door.
“Home?! We’re not done!” Ava laughed manically as she lunged at them. “I’ll find you! You belong with me!” Steve instinctively clutched Kayla to himself and covered her head with his hand as he fell back against the operating table.
Angelo pulled Ava back while Tina went to the doctor on the floor. “No, honey,” he said sadly. “You won’t.” Then he stuck Ava’s arm with the syringe he’d come prepared with and pressed the drug into her. She cast shocked, accusatory eyes upon him before they rolled back into her head. Her lids closed, and she collapsed into her uncle’s arms. He picked her up like she was nothing, and the two men with the women in their arms faced off for a silent moment.
“How did she know?” Steve asked. “How did she know who Kayla was?”
“You have nightmares, you clueless bastard. Call her Kayla in your sleep. Call her that stupid pet name when you dream. She’s a resourceful girl. Figured it out before the two of us could stop her. We were just in constant damage control while she was doing everything she could to keep you tied to her before you remembered when you were awake, too.”
Steve pumped his jaw. “You knew? Who I was?”
Angelo rolled his eyes. “You think my brother doesn’t know what he’s buying before he buys it? Of course, we knew.”
Kayla took all this in and felt livid hatred. She wanted to scream and kick and positively kill the entire family. She’d never wanted anyone so dead. Not even Orpheus. Not even Stefano. And not even Rolf.
“I’m taking my wife home,” Steve seethed. “You keep her away from us for as long as we’re here and in every other timeline, you keep her away from me, and you keep her away from my wife and daughter.” Angelo looked down and nodded.
Steve stood up off the operating table with Kayla in his arms, and he carried her out the door, through the hospital, and into the elevator. Kayla insisted he put her down, but not ten steps out of the elevator she had trouble with the pain in her groin. She fought against it, but Steve picked her back up. Their bodies were different than the ones they’d last inhabited; she was heavier, he was leaner, but Steve was galvanized and didn’t slow the rest of the way out of the hospital. He didn’t stop when staff eyed them, he didn’t stop until he got to the car.
“You can put me down,” Kayla said softly, “I can stand.”
“Are you sure? I’m afraid to let you go.”
She nodded. He released her onto her own two feet again, and Kayla inhaled sharply at the freezing cold concrete against her bare feet. “It’s fine,” she rasped, “just cold.” Steve unlocked the car, and he helped her get in, then he got in, himself. He wanted to peel out of the parking lot, but he had to be smart and get Kayla looked after.
“You’re not ok, Sweetness. We gotta get you to a hospital.”
“I’m pretty sure we were just inside one.”
“Not here. We’ll find another one.”
“No, I just want to go home. Any home,” she added, acknowledging the situation. “I can take care of myself.”
“Baby, I’m just gonna tell you straight, I don’t think you can. You’re in bad shape.”
Fresh tears sprang to Kayla’s eyes, but she was too angry to cry and quickly let that emotion rise to the surface. “I said I can take care of myself! I’m a doctor, I know what to do!” Steve didn’t react, because what Kayla did not need right now were his tears. “I’m sorry,” she said, dropping her head in her hand where blood was now drying down her arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” he shook his head, “you lay it on me, Sweetness. You give it all to me. It’s ok.”
She grabbed his hand across the gear shift and squeezed hard. Then she took a deep breath. She went to lower the visor so she could see herself in the mirror but thought better of it and felt for her hair instead. It was smooth and straight and ended just below her shoulder. “What year is it? When are we? You’re working for them, so it’s before our other jump.”
Steve still hadn’t started the car, and he really wanted to get out of there before Angelo emerged with Ava. “October ’98. Please, can we get you to a doctor, baby?”
She looked him in the eye and wanted so badly to touch his face, but she knew she was bloody so she just shook her head. “I’ve got this. Please just get us— STEPHANIE! Steve, we need to get home! What hospital are we at?!” She knew before she’d even left that OR that it wasn’t Cedars Sinai.
“It’s called Michael Reese.”
Kayla curled her lip. “Never heard of it.”
That’s when Steve realized that Kayla had no idea they weren’t in Los Angeles. “Baby, we’re in Chicago. You’re at a medical conference with Sam and Dr. Bond and a bunch of third years.”
Kayla’s eyes became saucers. “What? Wh-wh-where did you come from?!”
Steve quickly told her the details of his arrival into the Brookville compound, then he couldn’t wait any longer and started the car. He knew of several hotels, but Kayla could not be made to look ok enough to not be questioned. He also knew of several motels where she could go unnoticed, but he wanted to avoid bringing her to a dive after her experience. There was no way he was going to try finding the hotel room she’d been in, Ava clearly knew where that was, and he didn’t trust that the woman wasn’t going to find a way to finish this job. He tried insisting once more on another hospital, but Kayla was adamant. Salem was a couple hours away, there were places they could go, like her actual family above what was now the Pub. But Kayla needed medical attention now, and the no-longer-dead son-in-law strolling in with their injured daughter might give them heart attacks. So, he made a very quick decision as he drove aimlessly out of the parking lot. He picked up his cellphone and called a number he knew he could count on. The man answered on the second ring, and Steve was never so happy to hear his voice.
“Shane,” Steve said quietly. “Listen carefully. This is Steve Johnson. I’m not dead, and Kayla’s in trouble. We need a safehouse. Right now.”
Steve sat alone on the couch in the small living room of the ISA safehouse and just stared at the closed bedroom door.
“Bloody hell, mate.” Shane said not for the first time. Not just in this conversation but in others, too. The difference with this one was that it was over the phone rather than live and in person. “How are you alive?”
“Well, Double-0-Donovan, if this is the beginning of forever, I guess I’m gonna have to keep doin’ this, but I’m real tired of it, so I’m gonna boil it down for you.”
“Sorry?”
“Alamain faked my death. Woke up in the morgue. Was held for a long time in Salem. No one found me. Got sold to Dimera. Got brainwashed. Worked for him, got brainwashed again and sold to the Vitali crime family. Got my memory back, learned they were holding Kayla for … medical experiments … and went to rescue her. Got her out and called you for help.”
“Bloody hell,” Shane repeated. “You know, I’ve been where you are, Steve,” Shane said in his British lilt. “No memory. I lost Kimberly, too. How are you so calm right now?”
Steve had mellowed on Shane’s prior relationship with his wife, so this was a different tone than the last conversations were. “Because she’s the love of my life,” he said, repeating the words as Kayla had originally spoken when they’d outed him to Shane in LA. “She’s the mother of my children. My daughter. We lost these years, but I’m going to get the rest of my life with her.” Then he added, “and she’s in bad shape in there, and I need to be the strong one for her this time. That’s how I’m so calm right now.” Shane nodded in admiring approval. “And, dude, I’m real sorry to hear about you and Kim. I really am.”
“Thanks, mate.”
Just then Dr. Sam Granger left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. “Gotta go, doc’s done. Thank you for the apartment. I’ll let you know when we head back for LA. And thank Kimberly for keeping Stephanie. And listen, tell Kim what’s happening. Tell her I’m alive. It’s better coming from you.” It was one simple line, but if they were here a while, he hoped it would eliminate the wedge between the two sisters that so upset Kayla on the last jump.
“Kay already thanked me. I’ve got it taken care of.” Steve hated it when Shane called her that, but he had bigger fish to fry right now. They hung up, and Steve gave the doctor his full attention.
“Dr. Granger,” Steve said sticking out his hand. “Name’s Steve Johnson.”
“You’re the husband?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed. This was two years before Kayla’s oncology rotation, he and Kayla were no more than in a teacher student relationship, so he didn’t know her very well. “Is she gonna be ok?”
“She’s going to be fine, but I don’t understand why you’re not in the ER? Was she sexually assaulted?”
Steve didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t know how to explain the absurdity of forced IVF from his ex-girlfriend he wished was dead. “How bad is it?” he simply said in non-answer.
“I’m an oncologist, not a gynecologist, so I didn’t do a full exam. It’s mostly superficial wounds everywhere else, but I know a pulled out IV when I see it, what’s that about?”
“Is that all the blood is? Just from the IV? Does she need—”
“There’s a lot she needs. Antibiotics, pain medication. I’m glad you convinced her to call me, because she needs care from someone, but she wouldn’t let me examine her fully. I have half a mind to call the authorities.”
“Please don’t, Sam—Dr. Granger.” Kayla said from where she was now standing in the doorway holding a hotel keycard in her hand. She was still in the hospital gown with Steve’s suit jacked pulled around her. Her hair was poking out in a mop, and dried blood had matted under her jawbone, as well as on her arm. Steve was grateful that no blood was on her legs. At least none that he could see. “I’ve been around the block I know what to do. Thank you for checking me out, I’m grateful. But I really can take it from here.” When neither man replied, she added in a strong voice, “Really. Please, I don’t need the coddling. And, no, I was not. Assaulted. Ok?” Sam shrugged a nod in an inevitable yield to her. “I have one more favor. Please? I think this is my hotel key. Can you ask Raj or Stacy to please bring me my things? Tomorrow, not tonight. We can’t go back there or we’d be there already.”
“Yeah, I can do that, but Kayla why can’t you go back there?”
“You seein’ this, man?” Steve gestured to the state of his wife. “Just take us at our word.”
“Alright, alright!” He grabbed the key card and groused, “what room number?”
“I … I don’t know.” For some reason, this made Kayla’s eyes fill with unshed tears.
Sam saw this and got an immediate pang for her. “It’s ok, I’ll figure it out, just don’t worry.” Meanwhile, Steve’s heart was breaking even more than it already was with what she must have gone through.
Sam turned to go. Then he turned back around, doubt lingering. Kayla could see that he didn’t want to leave them like this, but she offered no more explanation. She just wanted him to go. “You need the ER, and you know it,” he said a final peace. “But fine. You keep me on your speed dial.”
Kayla nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Granger.”
“I think we’re at Sam now.”
She nodded a small laugh. “Ok. Thank you, Sam.”
Steve opened the apartment door, and Sam walked through it. He shot Steve a disapproving look but then nodded and left. Steve secured the door and then he and Kayla locked eyes. Neither one knew what to say. They’d arrived to immediate turmoil and had no chance at all to acclimate, search these new faces they’d not been privy to yet, or discuss anything about the clear effects their actions had had on the slipstream. And in this case, this destination was a reality neither of them had any experience with. At all.
But first things first.
Steve went to his wife and stroked the back of his hand carefully down her face. “Baby. Are you in pain?”
Kayla nodded. She saw no point in lying. Steve couldn’t help it, he dropped his head into his hand and cried. He did this to her. By being with Ava, he set all of this, whatever it was, into motion. Kayla took his hand and brought his palm up to her cheek. Steve brought his other hand up to join it and pulled her in to him.
“I’ve got you, Sweetness. You give me whatever you’ve got, I can take it.”
Kayla let her husband hold her and let herself cry. Not for the physical pain, and not even for the experience. She cried for what this all really meant. That it was a fact that in her real timeline, Ava must have stolen something precious from her. And no matter that she got out of it here, she knew with intrinsic certainty even without the memory of it that she did not get out of it back home.
“She stole my eggs,” Kayla wept. “I don’t remember any of this, but she must have done it.”
“Maybe she didn’t,” Steve offered feebly, “if you don’t remember it.”
“It’s because I don’t remember it that I think it had to have happened. That’s what the anesthetic is for, it suppresses memory. She could have taken me from that conference without anyone knowing. There are so many panels, it’s easy to just disappear and not be missed for an entire day. She did it,” Kayla cried. “She has my eggs. Back home.” There was more she could have had than just Kayla’s eggs, but she couldn’t bring herself to think it yet.
“Sweetness. My God.”
They took a little more time to process this revelation and then made the silent decision to just table this for now. They were safe at the moment, and there were immediate needs to attend to.
Steve wanted to give her the medical attention Sam warned of, but he knew what Kayla really needed right now, because he knew his wife so well in any timeline. He went to the small bathroom, ran her a hot bath, and was very gratified when Kayla’s face showed a small smile as she lowered herself into the comfort of the water. Steve made a very specific point not to look between Kayla’s legs for blood, but he saw in his peripheral vision that there was none. He knew it had been there, because he’d seen signs of it on her hospital gown, but he thanked God it wasn’t there now, anyway. Kayla knew her husband as well as he knew her, and she saw him trying not to look and was very glad that she’d taken care of that herself so she could spare him this.
Steve dipped a washcloth into the bath. Kayla went to take it, but Steve took her hand in his and shook his head. “I’ve got this.” Kayla wanted to hide herself away. It didn’t feel like a sexual assault, but it did feel like a violation that she just wanted not to have seen. Because that was the nature of the intimacy of this part of your person being taken from you. “Let me take care of you, Sweetness. That’s what I’m here for.” Another tear fell from her eye. And for the very reason that she wanted to hide, she let him help her. She nodded, and Steve started by wiping that tear away with the washcloth.
Steve gently washed away the blood that had dripped from her ear and filed away for future discussion the speculation that it was something the slipstream caused like his nosebleed. He cleaned the nape of her neck where it had pooled, and he gently wiped away the drips that had escaped from where the IV catheter had been inserted into the back of her hand. He brushed the skin of Kayla’s back, her belly, and her legs with the soothing cloth and was pleased when her face registered the comfort he was giving her.
Kayla always felt loved by Steve, but there were times that she felt completely treasured. Times like right now. She watched him care for her, and she was glad she’d allowed him to clean her up like this. He’d done this many times after they’d made love. Like their first time in 1979. And the last time they’d been together the night before they began jumping. Then there were times he’d cared for her after horrible experiences. Like the last time they were in this very city together. And right now. She watched Steve clean her, try to wash away her pain, try to infuse into her his truly undying love. And it was beautiful.
Kayla sighed softly as Steve shampooed her hair, the little impulses as he rubbed her scalp giving her flashes of pleasure. He was making her feel good, and she wanted him to know it. He responded by continuing for a longer while. Then he gently rinsed the evidence of this ordeal into the water now draining from the tub and away from his wife.
“How can I take care of your pain, baby?” Steve was quite insistent as Kayla put on one of Steve’s tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants from his bag and crawled into the small double bed. “Sam said you needed meds. Abx,” he said, speaking the doctor language he’d long ago picked up from her.
Kayla nodded. “He already called it in. It’s late, everything is closed, but it’s standard stuff, it’ll be ready in the morning. The rest of it is just time.”
“What rest of it? Tell me.”
Kayla exhaled heavily. “I’m guessing they shot me with a large dose of Clomid.”
“Isn’t that what you had for Joe?”
“Mm-hmm. But I can tell from the …” she shook out her hands, at a loss for how to explain how the massive hormone spike made her feel, “… just my hormones are a little crazy. I’m guessing they gave me a ton of it. Too much. I just need to wait for it to leave my body. I’ll have some cramping, but nothing I can’t handle. Like a bad period.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.” He sat beside her and rubbed his hands up and down her shoulders. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “I just want to sleep. Please. Will you lie here with me for a little while?”
“Sweetness. I’ll lie here with you forever.”
Kayla looked at him meaningfully. “Forever,” she repeated with an entirely different reference.
Steve nodded and caressed her cheek in his palm. “Are you sure there are still worse things than being in here forever with me?”
Kayla looked upon him tenderly and nodded. “This was bad. But I’m still sure.” Then she leaned her face into his caressing palm. “You know, I’m not the only one something happened to tonight.”
“Baby, I’m not the one who was kidnapped and forced into some kind of medical procedure tonight.”
“No. You were the one who was kidnapped and forced into one first. And tonight you learned a bombshell.” Kayla leaned over and placed her lips lovingly on his. It was the first time they’d kissed in this timeline. “It’s ok if you’re hurting, too.” Steve’s look was so tender. So much meaning behind his gorgeous, green eye capturing hers. “I love you,” she whispered.
Steve leaned back against the headboard and brought Kayla in to lay against him. He placed endless kisses on the top of her damp head and didn’t let her go. “I love you so much, Sweetness. We’re gonna figure it all out, but not tonight. Tonight you’re just gonna let me hold you, and you’re gonna sleep.”
They’d wake up there in the morning, but they both got the sense that this jump wouldn’t be long-term. They were going to have enough time to have a meaningful conversation, but their plan to break the slipstream was more on course than they knew. And it was going to be a fast track to the end.