Nikolas prided himself on an outward calm demeanor while inside his body and mind soared with memories. Often, he had wondered how his and Dawn's reunion would come to pass. Never had he doubted that the day would arrive for always he had known it was simply a matter of when. Decades, she had said, but as he stared at her sleeping form, time seemed to be a strange concept. Although she had aged some, the young woman who had captured his heart so many years ago lay serene in his bed.
Static vibrated from the walkie-talkie attached to his belt. Nikolas quieted the reminder with a swift twist of the knob. A part of him was grateful for the distraction. How could he explain sitting and staring at her? Well, she is the famous Dawn James, he thought. A voice like an angel with beauty to match. But no, most knew he was not one to be starstruck. He came from royalty, after all.
After adjusting the comforter around her and brushing the stray tendril from her check, Nikolas left Dawn to her rest. Minutes later, he joined Thom in the library.
"You're late." Thom Hardy's green eyes danced with humor, belying the sharp words and imposing wide-legged stance.
Nikolas shook his head and sat heavily onto the leather recliner. "Don't start."
"Is she faring better?" Thom sat across from him. His notes forgotten as he stared at Nikolas. "Still beautiful?"
"Of course."
"Feisty?"
Nikolas smiled. "Could she be any other way?"
"Stubborn?"
"As a bull."
"Still married to Lucky?" Thom asked quietly.
Nikolas' jaw clenched. He shrugged. "I didn't ask."
"She hasn't been here an hour and you're falling again," Thom said. "Don't you think you should ask? Wouldn't it be a good idea to know where your brother is?"
"Well, my brother uses Lorenzo now." Nikolas stood, went to the mini fridge, and retrieved two bottles of water. He tossed one to Thom. "We're giving refuge to her, Noelle—"
"Noelle? The baby?" Thom said, pausing mid-twist of the bottle top. "One of those girls is Dawn's baby?"
"Um, she isn't a baby," Nikolas stated carefully. "She's a teenager. A beautiful young woman. Spencer is showing her and Trina around."
“Trina?”
Nikolas drew in a harsh breath. “Dawn and my brother have two beautiful daughters.”
“And Spencer is giving them a tour?”
Nikolas frowned. “Is that not what I said?”
"Is that wise?" Thom questioned.
Nikolas took a deep swallow of water before answering. "They're cousins. What harm could there be?"
Spencer carefully regarded the stoic young women who walked beside him. Noelle’s light brown tendrils wove into a single, thick braid that stopped short of the middle of her back. Her resemblance to her mother was apparent. They shared dimples and mouth shape, but Noelle's skin tone was fairer. On the other hand, Trina stood several inches shorter. Her frame was more petite, lithe, and delicate and her skin was a rich, smooth brown. Her single, thick braid was darker in color. Both were very pretty, but their lack of resemblance to each other—except for the dimples—was quite interesting now that he had a better view of them. Since they began the tour, Noelle’s curiosity about Wyndemere ebbed and flowed. She seemed distracted and guessing the cause wasn't difficult. Meanwhile, Trina’s interest seemed more reserved almost as if she did not want to appear too intrigued.
"Father is taking excellent care of your mother," Spencer said. "TJ says that rest will lead to a swift recovery."
Noelle gave him a faint smile. "That isn't exactly what he said, but that's the gist of it.”
“And you said a lot of people reside here?" Trina asked.
"Plenty," Spencer said. "I cannot recall the exact number, but we house as many as possible. No one stays under duress. Of course, everyone is free to leave—"
"Do they?" Trina asked.
Spencer pondered her question. Was she serious? “No one is forced to stay here. If you would rather brave the blizzard, then by all means…”
“The doors closed with such finality,” Trina said.
“To conserve heat,” Spencer said.
“What about the raiders?” Trina asked. “Have they ever breeched the walls of this fortress?”
“Not so far,” Spencer responded with confidence.
The trio paused on the landing of the second floor. Noelle moved away from the sparring pair to guide her candle near the row of Cassadine portraits, pausing at the image of Stefan Darius Mikkosovich Cassadine. "Wow," Noelle said. “Stefan…”
"That's my grandfather—"
"I know," Noelle said. She turned her back to the portrait to look at him. "Do you know who my mother is?"
"Of course, who doesn't know Dawn James?" Spencer said, offended. "I haven't been to any of her concerts, but I had tickets for the opening of her residency in Vegas. But…um…I guess that's on hold."
"I'm not talking about her profession." She stared at him until he blinked. "She grew up here."
"Everyone knows that," he said, growing hot as his embarrassment grew. Many of his peers at Port Charles High had assumed that his name, status, and title rendered him oblivious to the normal interests of their generation. Spencer had always hated that assumption.
"You haven't shown us the kitchen," Trina said.
The sudden change in topic stunned Spencer. He held in a retort and asked, "What about your mother?"
Noelle shrugged. "Nothing—"
"No, she grew up here," Spencer persisted, looking between the two young women. "Of course, everyone knows that, but there's more. You recognized my grandfather." He moved to stand near Stefan's portrait. "Explain."
Noelle laughed. Shaking her head, she took Trina’s hand, and they brushed past him to head to the stairs. "What else is there to see?”
“Do you still employ a staff,” Trina asked, “or are we responsible for our meals? How does all that work?"
"We have a system. You needn't be concerned just yet."
"Because we may not stay." Trina cast a measured gaze at him.
"No," Spencer said carefully, "because you and your mother are under our—Father's special care. He'll explain everything to you when it's time. Now, about Grandfather."
"We'll explain everything to you about Stefan…” Noelle said, “when it's time."
Dante knew that following Jordan would lead to consequences. In the old world, she had been his superior officer. In this new world that they were creating, he wasn't sure what their professional titles were or if they even really mattered now. What plagued him more was defining their personal titles or rather roles. Most of the time, he was sure that he wanted a clearly stated title for their slowly evolving relationship, but when her mood shifted and the true Jordan hid behind her wall of cold professionalism, he wondered if the effort was worth it. Then he remembered their quiet conversations and how perfectly they fit together. Whatever the consequences were, he'd face them.
They managed to get Esme into the infirmary with little distractions. Wyndemere was buzzing about new occupants in the Cassadine wing and the distraction was better than focusing on the potential freeze. After Dante helped Esme onto one of the empty beds, he stepped back and shrugged off his coat, hat, and gloves.
While helping the girl become comfortable, Jordan said, "Can you find TJ or Michael?"
Esme's eyes widened. "Who are they?"
"Doctors," Dante said. "Sure thing. I'll be right back."
Jordan smiled her thanks and Dante's breath quickened.
He left before he surrendered to temptation. Behind him, he heard bits of their conversation. The girl didn't want a medical exam, but Jordan insisted. Dante chuckled to himself as he moved down the hall. Esme had no idea the powers of Jordan Ashford. When her mind was set on something, nothing could deter her.
About five minutes later, Dante found Michael in his quarters with his cousin, Brook Lynn and her newborn daughter. As soon as he appeared, Brook Lynn shushed him and Dante raised his hands in mock defense. He waved toward Michael who moved to join him in the hall.
"What's up?"
"We have a newbie in the infirmary," Dante said.
Michael checked his pocket for keys and then nodded at Dante. "Let's go."
"Where's TJ?"
"With the Cassadines," Michael said. "Thom asked for assistance and TJ volunteered. Why? Is Jordan okay?"
"She's fine," Dante said. "It was strange that he wasn't around, that's all."
"They're talking about beefing up guard duty, you know," Michael said.
"I heard."
"Paranoia?"
Dante shook his head. "Can't ever be too safe, right?"
"I guess not," Michael said with a shrug. "Is the newbie anyone we know?"
"Complete stranger. It's weird because she's a kid. About Cameron and Spencer's age."
Michael frowned. "Alone?"
"As far as we could tell."
"That's strange."
"Yeah, it is," Dante agreed. "Very strange."
Dawn had numerous dreams. Most of them took her back in time to her teen years when a runaway prince first became her best friend and later her first love and first lover. She awakened startled by her surroundings until she remembered the circumstances that brought her to Wyndemere and Nikolas Cassadine's bed. Flames flickered from the fireplace, and strategically placed candles lit the decidedly masculine room. With summoned strength, she pulled herself upright against the pillows. Her wounds cried from the effort. She inhaled deep breaths to will the pain away.
"Mama?"
Dawn extended her hands. Movement fluttered across the room and then Noelle was on the bed bedside her. "Hi, sweetheart. How long have I been asleep?"
"Awhile," Noelle said. Her eyes brightened with tears. "I was a little scared, but Nik-Nikolas said that he had spoken to you…before. Then the doctor said that rest was helping you heal, so Trina and I stopped trying to wake you."
Dawn's eyes widened. "What's awhile?"
Her daughter looked down at their joined hands. "Two days—"
"What! That long? And you couldn't wake me?" Dawn stroked her daughter's cheek.
"Nikolas advised that we should stop trying because you were fine."
"Oh, did he?" Dawn asked.
"He visited you quite a bit. He was worried about you."
"If he didn't say it," Dawn cautioned gently, "you shouldn't assume. Where’s Trina?”
“She’s sleeping,” Noelle said. “We’ve been taking turns, staying up with you. I wanted her to rest a little longer. She’ll be mad I didn’t wake her, but I know she’s been tired. She tries to pretend…”
“She isn’t the only one,” Dawn said, watching her daughter. “You don’t have to be ‘strong.’ You can rest, too. You’re safe here.”
Noelle’s response was a frown.
Dawn chose another tactic. “What's the weather like?" she asked.
"Complete white-out." Noelle left the bed, went to the curtains, and pulled them apart. Brightness flooded the room.
Dawn covered her eyes. "Enough. Stop. I give."
Noelle laughed. "Sorry." She closed the curtains. "I think Thom went outside this morning."
"Thom?" Dawn asked. "Thom Hardy? He's here?"
"Yes, I think that's the one," Noelle said. She returned to the bed and curled against her mother's uninjured side. "A lot of people are here, but I haven't met or seen half of them. I couldn't leave you, but I took a brief tour. I saw Stefan's portrait." She pulled her iPhone from her back pocket and retrieved the image for her mother. "See. He's handsome just like you always said. A little stiff, though."
Dawn stared at the photo of the painting, which did not come close to capturing the full essence of Nikolas' father and her dear friend. "He wasn't always stiff. His humor was often carefully timed."
"Oh, Mama," Noelle groaned. "You're beginning to sound like them."
"Them?"
"Cassadines," Noelle clarified in a stage whisper. "I want my mom back, please."
"I'm right here." Dawn hugged Noelle close. "I'm sorry I scared you."
"You needed rest. You haven't really slept since the attack. I should have realized—I'm sorry."
Dawn kissed her daughter's forehead. "No, no need for apologies."
"Mama, please don't get mad."
"You know I don't like prologues," Dawn said. "Out with it."
"I kinda had a little talk with Spencer, but it was really nothing. Anyway, he doesn't know anything."
"Noelle—"
"Mama, I had to," Noelle said. "When I saw the portrait, I couldn't stop myself. There's so much…and he's clueless. Why didn't Nikolas tell him?"
Dawn shrugged. "I don't know."
"But he should have—"
"That's none of our business."
"But what if Daddy comes back?"
Dawn's heart lurched. After six months, the thought of Lorenzo returning had started to slip her mind. And now, she lay in his brother's bed with nary a regard to her husband. Wow. Is that the woman she had become in just a matter of days?
"We will live in the present," Dawn advised. "If your dad finds us here…"
"He won't like it," Noelle said slowly.
Dawn's hold on her daughter tightened. "But he will understand."