Roman winces as Marlena rolls her head away. The torment on her face is killing him. He's about to try again but there is a noise behind him and he sees the doctor that has entered the room, closing the door behind her.
The young woman smiles as she picks up the chart from the end of the bed and Roman takes the opportunity to indicate that he wants to talk to her. He needs some answers quickly. He needs to know how far to take this, how much he can tell Marlena without the risk of causing her any more trauma than she is already suffering.
He pushes himself from the bed, running his fingers down Marlena's forearm before he takes his leave of her. She flinches at his touch but she doesn't pull away. That's something, at least.
His chest aches as he walks to the corner of the room with the doctor. He knows the hell that she must be going through. He'd give anything to take it away; he'd do anything for her. But he knows he can't make this better, there is no magic wand, no panacea to ease her grief.
He briefly explains to the doctor that Marlena is starting to remember the things that happened while she was Grace. And that he has no idea what he should tell her, if anything.
The doctor looks concerned.
"Clearly, the secondary personality has broken down," she says softly. "The need to protect your wife must have ended with the confrontation that occurred. In some ways this is good because it means the personalities are merging naturally." Her expressive face conveys the fact that the news is not all good. "However, it could present a problem in that your wife's mental and emotional state is still very fragile and these memories are going to overwhelm her. And we can't control the rate at which these memories will return."
She glances over at Marlena and chews on her lip briefly before consulting her watch. "Listen, I'll give your wife a quick examination and then I'll see if I can find one of our consultant psychiatrists to come down. They'll be able to explain this process and give you better guidance then I could ever hope to."
She frowns again, laying her hand on Roman's arm as he looks over at his wife, doubt and concern swimming in his weary blue eyes. "At this point, Mr. Black, there's not much else we can do. I could sedate her, but I don't think that's a wise option considering she's taken this long to recover from the surgery."
"So I just have to wing it, huh?" Roman rubs his hand across his face, his exhaustion clearly evident and then nods. "Right."
The doctor, not knowing what else to say, moves across to the bed where Marlena lays prone and tense.
"Hello Mrs. Black," she greets her patient with a gentle voice. "I'm glad to see you're awake, we were a little worried about you there for a while." Marlena doesn't respond. "I'd just like to have a look at your dressing and check your vitals, if that's okay with you."
Marlena's eyes are still closed, her arms bunched tightly against her chest. Roman gently strokes her forearm.
"C'mon Doc," he says tenderly. "It's okay, you can trust her. Just let her do her job and then we'll... we..." he stops, stumbling over his words as though his tongue suddenly doesn't fit in his mouth. He swallows and takes a deep breath. "We'll have that talk I promised you."
Marlena slowly pries open her eyes and finds herself looking straight at John again. "It's okay," he tells her softly. It's going to be okay." His words are unexpectedly soothing and she relaxes a little, unfolding her arms.
The doctor stands on the other side of the bed and she slowly swivels her head to meet the eyes of the young woman. A girl who looks like she's barely out of school. Marlena takes in her white coat and stethoscope. Her name badge is pinned on the left side of her coat and it tells Marlena that her name is Dr. Josie Simpson.
"Hi there Mrs. Black," she offers a sweet smile and puts a hand on Marlena's arm. Marlena flinches involuntarily and closes her eyes, relaxing only when John squeezes her hand.
"It's okay," the young woman says calmly and not without sympathy. "I'm just here to see that you're okay, that's all. I won't hurt you, I promise."
Marlena looks back at her and then biting her lip, gives a nod so tiny as barely to exist. Dr. Simpson takes that as her assent and sets about examining her. Marlena remains motionless, looking into the distance and moving only as she is asked to.
She doesn't understand any of this; none of it makes any sense. Maybe it's some horrible nightmare and she'll wake up soon. She bites her lower lip, tears gathering along her lashes. If only it were.
"Its okay baby," John whispers, reaching out to her. She grabs his hand gratefully as the doctor draws back the bedding and asks her to roll over slightly. Marlena winces as Josie peels back the folds of her hospital gown and carefully checks the dressing on her wound.
A wound that is a complete mystery to her.
Josie nods. "It's looking good Mrs. Black. You were very lucky; the bullet didn't hit any vital organs. You should make a full recovery and hopefully you shouldn't be confined to this bed for too long." She smiles congenially as she drops the gown back into place and then smoothes back the bedcovers. "If you're anything like the majority of our patients, you won't want to be stuck in here for too long!"
Marlena feels a cold pricking creep over her skin and a surge of nausea overtakes her as she looks at John.
"Bullet?"
"Yeah," John nods, looking askance at the young woman before he looks back at her. "That's part of what I've gotta tell you, sweetheart."
"Right." Josie looks uncomfortable as she realizes her gaffe and she attempts a smile that fades miserably. "I'll get going then. And Mr. Black, I will do as we discussed."
Marlena watches John as he nods in her direction, his lips pursed in serious contemplation. A second ripple of fear sweeps across her as the woman leaves the room. And when he looks back at her, she can't meet his eyes.
Instead, she stares at the plastic that is taped to the back of her hand. The drip that disappears inexplicably into a vein, treating her for something she has no memory of.
Roman watches her, reading correctly the despair that is settling over her. He can't bear to see her like this, it's almost worse than having Grace to contend with. At least she had some spark of life, some resistance in her.
"C'mon baby," He says firmly. "I need you to listen to what I've got to tell you."
She shakes her head with a grimace, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I don't want to know," she whispers, ignoring the moisture that drips from her jaw. "I... don't think I can bear it."
Roman shakes his head, reaching out and stroking her hair with hands that suddenly feel large and clumsy. "I know you're remembering some things, sweetheart. But you've got to let me put them in context for you. Once you understand everything, it's going to be a lot easier for you to cope with."
His eyes flick to the envelope that is propped up on the cabinet next to the bed.
"If I'm not wrong," he says, "there's something that might help all of this make a bit more sense to you when I tell you."
She looks at him in dismay. "How can any of this make any sense at all?" Her face crumples again. "John, you don't know.... the images that I'm seeing... they're frightening... terrifying. If even *half* of these bear any semblance of truth..."
"Shhhh." He puts his fingers against her lips. "Just listen to me. *Trust* me. It's not as bad as you think. And that's all you need to know right now. Just wait for a minute."
Roman gets up from the bed and moves around to the other side, sliding the envelope off the cabinet. The stiff paper crackles between his fingers. His heart is in his mouth, he's been waiting for this answer for days now. He hopes to God that these results say what he wants them to say or 's going to be a hell of a lot harder to convince Marlena that she's not responsible for everything that happened. As much as he wants to be Roman Brady, he wants her happiness a hell of a lot more. He'd give anything just to see her smile again.
"What is it?" Marlena asks him, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"Why don't you open it and see?" John places the envelope in her hand and withdraws his shaking fingers. "I don't think I can."
Marlena's brow folds into concerned creases as she fingers the thick, expensive envelope. She looks at him and then looks back at the envelope. It's sealed and it's clearly important, but there are no markings on the front. No clue as to what it might be.
"Open it," he asks with a strange edge to his voice. "Please."
She raises her eyebrows, flicking a bemused glance at him and then lays the envelope flat in front of her. Sliding an elegant nail under the corner of the flap, she tears her way along the top of the fold.
Her heart is beating unaccountably fast as she slides a piece of paper from the envelope. She unfolds it and smoothes it flat in front of her. Scanning the contents of the single piece of paper, she blinks, twice, expecting the words to change. But they don't.
These are DNA results. From the ISA's lab. DNA results that....
"What... what does it say?" he asks, haltingly.
Wordlessly, Marlena hands him the sheet of paper and watches his eyes as he reads it. There's no surprise there, simply quiet acceptance.
"I don't understand," she says in a tiny voice as she stares at him, examining the face that is so familiar to her. So loved. "How can this be? How can it be true?"
Roman folds the paper up and places it back on the nightstand. He slips back onto the bed next to her and takes her hand, kissing the back of it gently. Then he turns it over and kisses her palm. Her heart thumps violently as she waits for his answer.
"Because DiMera played the ultimate game of chess with us. And he got away with it for far longer than he should have." He raises his eyebrows and gives her a regretful smile. "He played us," Roman continues, his gaze drilling into her, peeling back the layers of her confused emotions and finding the way straight to her wounded heart.
"But he didn't count on the fact that you and I would continue to find our way back to each other. It must have killed him that our hearts knew the truth, even if our heads couldn't accept it. You loved the person, not the name. A name doesn't make a person; it never made us anything less or more than we were. We love a person, not an idea. At least, you did, and hope you still do." He squeezes her hand and reaches out to cup her cheek in his palm. He gently caresses the blush that spreads across her cheek and gives her a smile that is so tender and intimate it makes her soul sing. "I know I sure as hell do."
Marlena simply stares at him. She has no idea what to say. She doesn't have the words to express the tumult of emotions that are crashing around inside her. The earlier fear and anguish are still there but now they are overlaid by a joy that is so profound it threatens to swamp everything else. She doesn't know how to express it. So, instead, she just looks at him and studies his beloved face. She knows that face intimately, knows every single inch of skin, every single muscle that lies beneath. She knows the way he smiles, his eyes creasing at the corners when he does. She knows the way his eyes meet hers and the way it leaves her breathless when it happens.
It's a face that she's known by more than one name, but maybe her heart has always known the truth. She's never been able to deny her love for him. Not deep down.
Even before she knew he was Roman the first time, even when she thought he could be Stefano, there was still something within her that was drawn to him. Inexplicable as it was at the time. She's always loved him, from the moment she met him. And now she knows why. Not just because he's Roman, but because her heart is bound to his. And it always will be.
"Don't you have anything to say?" Roman asks. He sounds nervous and she loves him for it. She couldn't love him any more if she tried.
She shakes her head, managing the hint of a smile. She can feel the tears again, threading beads of moisture between her lashes. "I don't know what to say. I wish I had some idea what..." she trails off and closes her mouth, pressing her lips together as she tries to stem the threatening sobs.
"I know it's a shock," he replies softly. "I wish I could have prepared you for it." He stops, clenching his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flickering beneath the tanned skin. "I hope... I hope it makes you happy."
"Happy?" She's astonished that he can even think she would feel otherwise. "Jo-," she stops short with a mixture of shock and joy. "Roman." She looks at him as she repeats his name, rolling the word around on her tongue, examining the feel of it. "Roman." She reaches out, ignoring the pain that glances through her stomach and touches her fingertips to his unshaven face. She traces the lines that span out from his bloodshot, fatigued eyes; smoothes her touch over the creases in his forehead. He looks utterly exhausted, ready to drop and she suddenly realizes that he's probably not slept in days.
"Roman." She breathes his name again, almost as though it's a prayer. "It makes me unbelievably happy." She gives a short, pained laugh. "I don't get it. I don't understand it. But I believe it and it makes me..." She stops again, fear prickling, crawling over her skin like flame licking at her senses. It makes her happy but it also opens up an arsenal of potentially destructive questions.
"Who was he?" she asks plaintively. "If you're Roman, who was *he*?"
"He," Roman takes a deep breath, trying to work out how to frame these next revelations. He wonders where the hell the psychiatrist has gotten to. If he does this wrong, god only knows how Marlena will react. He is fixed by her eyes though, that heart-wrenching mixture of vulnerability and curiosity that makes him weak with love for her. It lays him bare and unable to deny her. He has to tell her something, he can't stall forever.
"He... his name was Robert Lamont. He was one of Stefano's employees. Like Stefano changed my face and gave me the real John Black's memories, he did the same for this Lamont. Gave him my face and my life in memories."
"But...." Marlena eyelids flash closed and then open again as she digests this information. "That means... all that time...." Her eyes widen as she looks intensely at Roman. She feels queasy.
"Yeah," he nods, a look of regret crossing his face. "I know. That's something we're going to have to come to terms with. Together," he adds quickly. "We've got one of DiMera's files that explains it all much better than I can. You can read it when you're ready. When you're stronger." He squeezes her hand firmly. He doesn't want to dwell on the specter of Lamont. That raises too many potential questions. Questions that he is not yet ready to answer.
"You've got Stefano's files?" She starts to get agitated now. "What the hell is going on, Jo-." She stops short, catching herself. "Roman. I'm sorry."
"S'okay, Doc," he grins, even despite himself. "It's going to take me a while to get used to it too. Abe keeps doing the same thing."
"Abe knows?" She frowns, her eyes filling with tears. She feels very tired and very lost. She just wants *something* to make sense. Anything will do. Anything to give her some kind of foothold, to provide some kind of comfort.
"Hey, it's okay baby," Roman leans closer and slips his arm around her shoulder. She fights for a moment and then surrenders, lifting her arms to slide them around his neck. A quick intake of breath betrays the pain that spears through her abdomen. But she ignores it and buries her face in Roman's neck.
That's the comfort she needs, the solidness of him, the familiar smell. He's right, whatever name he goes by, she still loves him just as much. She always has. Whether he's Roman or not is essentially not important. What is important is that he is here, with her. That he loves her; that she knows she can depend on him, despite everything.
Of course, the fact that he is Roman complicates almost every facet of their life, past and present. But that's something she can think about later. Right now, those complications pale into insignificance beside the images that haunt her. That echo against her closed eyelids.
Finally, she sighs softly and lifts her head, turning it to find his eyes. He's so close, his gaze feels like it's searing her soul. She feels like he can see right through her, see the hideousness which is spilling out from mind and her heart. She closes her eyes and drops her head. If he could really see, he wouldn't sit there so calmly. He wouldn't regard her so tenderly. The reality is, as much as she's depending on his love, his being there for her, the truth is she has to prepare herself. Because once he knows what she's done.... there's no way he will support her.
The thought makes her feel physically ill and she avoids his eyes as she opens her own, pulling away from him as she lays back against the pillows.
Roman feels her tense in his arms and he frowns inwardly. He knows her so well, knows that this isn't good. She's retreating inside her head, blaming herself without all the facts at hand. He can't let her do that. He won't. He doesn't care what Grace did when under Stefano's tutelage. However bad it was, it wasn't Marlena's fault. She was brutalized and manipulated. She was made vulnerable and torn down until there was nothing left but the simple and furious desire to survive. He can't hold her responsible for anything that happened as a result.
"Does the name Grace mean anything to you?" he asks quietly.
"Grace?" She still refuses to look at him, just directs her gaze at the blanket that covers the bed as she shakes her head. "No. Who is Grace?"
Roman reaches for her hand, but she pulls it away, tucking it below the covers as the other hand curls into a ball beside her. "Who is Grace?" she repeats, more harshly this time.
"You remembered being in Salem Place, with DiMera," Roman says carefully, "but nothing after that. Right?" Marlena nods, her lips thinning. But she still refuses to look at him. "Well, you had... there was an accident, sweetheart. You hit your head. And when you woke up in the hospital, you weren't ...exactly *yourself*, Doc."
Marlena says nothing, but Roman notes her demeanor changes slightly. She swallows heavily and her complexion pales.
"You woke and you immediately demanded to talk to Stefano. Then you pretty much threw me out of the penthouse straight away and you were behaving so strangely. I couldn't even get near enough to you that I could talk to you, but it wasn't until later that I realized exactly what had happened."
"You're telling me I became one of Stefano's creations." Marlena says in a choked voice. She finally meets his eyes and he sees she is crying again. "One of his monsters."
"In a manner of speaking," Roman nods. He contemplates lying to her, but he doubts that will help matters for long. She's an intelligent woman; there will be too many discrepancies if he tries to pull the wool over her eyes now. And will she trust anything else he says once she knows he lied to her? "But, it's a little more complex than that, Marlena."
"Complex how?" her voice trembles as she asks, her eyes imploring him to help her to understand. To make some sense of this for her. Somehow.
"I..." Roman shakes his head, lost for words. Despite his previous musings, he can't bear telling her again. Breaking the truth to Grace the first time had been distressing. He'd had no choice then, in order to protect her from Stefano; he'd been forced to blurt it out. But now? When Marlena is so fragile? How the hell can he throw that at her? It will destroy her all over again.
The hushed breaking of waves on the beach beckon, balmy air caressing her skin as she steps out onto the terrace. The sweet, cloying scent of frangipani and jasmine threads around her, enclosing her in a cloud of tropical delight.
Behind her, a voice sounds. And it makes her freeze....
"Roman..." Marlena's eyes are tightly closed, her voice is nothing more than a whisper. Her hand blindly gropes for his. Her heart is hammering crazily as the images crash faster and faster into her consciousness. Stefano. The alluring cerulean swathe of the Caribbean ocean laid out in front of her. Lamont, those eyes burning with hatred....
She feels Roman's hand close around hers and she clutches at it like it's a lifeline. Like she's sinking, which truly, she is. Because she can't stop this. Now the floodgates have opened, the trickle of memories has become a torrent. Everything is falling into place. And it's making her sick to her stomach.
A minute ago she was desperate for all this to make sense – now she wishes it didn't. Everything is closing in on her.... the rape, the murders, everything she did for Stefano.... The alien emotions that inhabit her skin, the feelings she recalls, but has never felt. It's all there, the anger, the hatred, the desperate relentlessness to keep it all buried as she fought for some kind of purchase in Stefano's world.
And then there's the past few months. The look on Roman's face as he'd seen her with Craig. Hope and Bo on the boat. Lamont's fetid breath on her face as he fought her in the warehouse. Roman's despair as he realized it was not Marlena he was making love to. John Black's insane fury.... And every bit of it, every memory, crushes her soul just a little bit more.
"It's okay baby," Roman whispers. She feels his hand slip around her neck and she tenses even more. But he seems to ignore it and instead he leans close to her, offering his warmth and his love for her comfort. She gives a strangled sob and untangles her hand from his. Then she slides her arms around his neck and pulls him even closer. He rests his forehead against hers and she cries vast, forlorn sobs.
Roman says nothing, he just lets her cry. Lets her spill her grief, the sobs slowly easing the unbearable ache in her chest. Through the fog of her misery, she can feel the flat of his palm rubbing the back of her neck and the soft, murmuring noises of reassurance that he makes. If she didn't already love him so much, she could fall in love with him all over again.
She can't say how long it's been when the tears finally cease and give way to small hiccups. Roman wordlessly lifts his hand to her face and caresses her cheek with his palm. A muted sob escapes her as he presses a tender kiss to her forehead. She covers his hand with hers and looks into his eyes. There's nothing there but love, understanding and acceptance.
"You remembered." It's a statement, not a question. She nods numbly, biting her lower lip. "Everything?" He seems uncertain. How can she know if it's everything? But she does know, beyond the shadow of a doubt.
"Everything." The single word is hoarse and inflected with so many emotions it's impossible to tease one out from the next.
"I'm sorry sweetheart," he sighs, stroking her hair. "I hoped that we'd have a bit more time to prepare you. The last thing I wanted was for this to hit you all at once." He searches her eyes, trying to assess how she is coping. She looks back at him, her gaze warm and clear. "I don't know," he shrugs, "maybe it's best to get it all over at once. Now we can deal with it all in one go."
Marlena shakes her head, her eyes glassy with tears. "I can't deal with it," she whispers. "Roman, you've got no idea of the terrible things I've done."
Roman's expression steels. "Stop it Marlena," he says sternly. "It wasn't you. It was Grace."
"Grace *is* me," she argues. "She's part of me, she came from me. How can I not take responsibility for that? For her actions?" She looks away from him, her lower lip trembling. These next words are maybe the hardest she's ever had to say. They hold so much horror and they have the power to change her life for ever. "Roman, I've *killed* people. I've murdered people... with these... hands." The tears spill from her eyes and her chin trembles as she continues to avoid his eyes. "I can't *live* with that."
"Listen to me, Marlena," Roman says gruffly. His fingers grip her chin firmly and force her to meet his eyes. "You're going to *have* to. Because *I* can't live without *you*. I need you. Your children need you. You think I don't know how this feels? You think I haven't lived with the same knowledge every day for the past few years?"
"But it wasn't *you*," Marlena inclines her head. "It was the *real* John Black, his memories. *You* never hurt anyone, Roman. You couldn't."
"You're missing the point, Doc," Roman replies carefully. "I believed they were *my* memories. I believed with my whole heart that I had done those things. And I learned to live with that knowledge. And you helped me do that." He smiles gratefully at her. "You didn't care what horrors my past held; you loved and accepted me just as I was. That was, you told me, another lifetime. That I was a different man now and you had faith in me. You had so much faith in me baby, that after a while, I started to have faith in me too. And that was all down to you. I don't know if I would have survived if I hadn't had you there by my side. I don't think I would have. So you see," he cradles her face in his oversized hands and leans in to press a kiss to her lips. "I don't *care* what Grace did. I don't care who you were back then. It wasn't even your fault, after the things that Stefano did to you... Grace became who she was because it was the only way to survive."
He pauses, taking a deep breath. He holds her eyes, noting the bright, warm intelligence that shine from them. She's listening to him which is a good start. He only hopes he can get her to actually *hear* him.
"Look honey, I'm hardly perfect. Maybe those things didn't turn out to be true, but I still carried that madman around in my head for almost twenty years. I mean, hell, it was his fault, *my* fault that you're in this situation anyway. If I hadn't... on our honeymoon... if I..." he drops his hands and his eyes, unable to bear the pain that flares across her face.
He takes a deep breath and bites on his lower lip trying to still the shaking of his hands. He can't bear the fact that it's his weakness that has caused her all this pain. But he is reassured when her fingers steal across his with a comforting touch.
"You might say that I never did anything Doc, but the fact that we're here right now... that's a direct result of what I did. What John Black did with Gina in Hawaii." He clenches his jaw and looks up, meeting her eyes. Her brow is creased between her eyes and he knows she is struggling to make sense of what he is saying. Struggling to apportion the blame to herself while absolving him. He also knows she is far too logical a person to be able to do that successfully for long.
"Listen baby, I know you feel guilty and I know you're frightened. I am too. But we can come to terms with this. We can get through it together." He wraps his hand around hers. "I know I've let you down, I know I've hurt you and betrayed you, but, Doc, it all ends now." A tentative smile touches his eyes as he notes the softening of her expression. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Marlena. I'm going to be beside you, holding you every step of the way. I promise you."
"I do love you," she says softly, her eyes dancing as he smiles at her. "And I want to believe you. I really do."
"Well then," he shrugs. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you," she says gently, "I just know that none of this is simple. Roman, I've got blood on my hands. I killed... that man," she shudders and a wave of nausea passes through her. "Abe... the police, the DA's office, they're not going to just let that go."
"Actually, that's one thing that we *can* thank Stefano for," Roman chuckles at the irony. "The file on Lamont's death is officially dead and buried, thanks to pressure from the DA's Office. They have no evidence and no proof."
"But I *murdered* him, Roman," Marlena's eyes filled with tears again. "I know what he did to me. I remember it all in excruciating detail." Her breath catches in her throat and Roman squeezes her hand. "But that doesn't justify murder. I can't just walk around, living my life as normal and pretend it didn't happen. And it wasn't just him, and it wasn't just Orpheus..."
"*You* didn't do it!" Roman argues passionately. "Doc, what good would it do to drag all this up again? How would your being punished and going to jail help things? Don't you think we've all been through enough? The kids already have enough to deal with. If you went to jail, we'd all suffer. I think we've suffered enough, at Stefano's hands. Please, *please* don't let him take you away from us again."
Marlena is crying again and Roman senses this could go either way.
"Listen baby," he says tentatively, "Do you hold me responsible for what happened at Stefano's?"
She blinks, looking back at him questioningly.
"What John Black did," he says haltingly. "What he almost did to you. To Grace."
Marlena's eyes widen. She'd successfully managed to put that to the back of her mind until now. She looks at him for a moment, lips trembling. And then she shakes her head. "Of course I don't blame *you*," she replies. "It wasn't you. Anyway, you stopped him."
Roman gives her a lopsided smile. "It was *you* that gave me the strength to stop him," he tells her. "I knew you were in there somewhere, if only I could just reach you. And then all of a sudden, I heard your voice. It wasn't the first time, but I knew you were so close.... It gave me the strength to fight him. To beat him, once and for all. But if I'm not responsible for John's actions," he concludes, "then you're not responsible for Grace's."
"It's different, Roman." She refuses to take his words onboard. "John Black was a different person, he wasn't you, he was thrust upon you by Stefano's unholy interference. Grace, she was part of me," she looks at him sadly. "I can feel her. I can feel her, right here," she thumps on her chest with her fist. "I feel her sadness. Her anger. Her *rage*."
"Exactly," Roman nods assuredly. "*Her* rage. Not yours. Look, I know this is complicated baby, but you told me that Kim wasn't responsible for Lacey's actions. So how can you be responsible for Grace's?"
"Because I should have been *better* than that," Marlena cries as she tries to struggle from his embrace. "I should have known, I should have been able to-"
"Should *nothing*!" Roman interrupts her angrily as he holds her close. He will not let her push him away, not this time. "Goddammit Marlena. Stop trying to be Superwoman. Terrible things happened to you, you coped the best way you could. Please don't punish me and our children by claiming some misguided accountability for something that is truly not your fault."
Marlena attempts to struggle for a moment longer and then all of a sudden, the fight seems to go out of her. She crumples in his arms, her face tear-stained, her body shaking. "I just don't know how I'm ever going to be able to face anyone again." Her voice is fraught with distress. "The things that Grace did, in my name..." Roman is relieved that she finally seems to be making this distinction. "My patients," she continues. "Oh God, Braden, that poor boy..." She bites the inside of her lower lip and looks at Roman. "Even if this stays out of court, Roman, I'll never be able to practice again. I'm going to be struck from the medical register, at the very least."
"Hey," Roman shrugs, with a nonchalant smile, "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
"I'm sorry for interrupting." A voice comes from the doorway. Marlena blanches as she hears the familiar timbre of the voice. She looks up to find Hope's expression is softly sympathetic.
Hope walks up to the end of the bed and Roman wonders how long she has been standing there. "Marlena-"
Marlena presses her lips together and shakes her head. She feels so terribly guilty for what she did to Hope, she can barely verbalize the words.
"Hope. I am *so* sorry."
Hope lifts her shoulders and drops them in an easy shrug. Her smile is warm. "Don't apologize," she says. "I know that and Bo knows that. Don't feel guilty for something that wasn't your fault. I understand what you're feeling better than just about anyone. Well, besides Roman." She gives Roman a sympathetic smile and he realizes that she has heard enough of the conversations so far to know exactly where to take this. And he feels insanely grateful to her for entering the room and taking part in this. She doesn't have to, but it means a hell of a lot that she would.
Hope moves to the side of the bed and props herself on the edge of the bed. "*I* was your replacement, Marlena. Or rather, the Gina inside my head replaced Grace. I did the same things you did. Whether Gina was some creation of Stefano's or whether she was part of me... either way, she was inside my head and she used me and my body." Her face is utterly still and somber as she tries to convey the passion with which she believes the words she is saying. ""I did those things too. Horrible things. Gina *hurt* people. And I wish to God she hadn't, or that I could have somehow been strong enough to stop her. Both of us might think we could have fought it, but the truth is Marlena, if we could have, we *would* have. Who in their right minds would let someone make them do the things that Grace and Gina did?" Marlena returns her sad gaze but she says nothing. "So, unless you're going to condemn me, there's no point in blaming yourself."
"But Hope-" Marlena starts.
"No buts," Hope replies firmly. "It's over and done with. It's in the past. You have a family back in Salem who adore you. We all love you and I personally would like to put this last couple of years behind us. I'd like us to all be able to start again and move forward."
Roman smiles at her appreciatively. "Thanks Hope. And actually, to that end, I think there's something that you and Bo want to see." He nods at the folded letter which is propped on the bedside cabinet. Hope freezes and looks in the direction that he indicates. Then, swallowing, she leans over and picks up the piece of paper.
At the same moment, Bo appears in the doorway. Hope turns and looks at him, the piece of paper in her hands. He deserves to see this at the same time she does. She slips from the bed and walks towards him. When she's in front of him, she unfolds the paper and her eyes skim the details, alighting on the line of results that she's been expecting. She lets out a deep breath and then hands the sheet to Bo.
He pales as he reads it. All four lines of results – Shawn, Caroline, Sami and Belle – match John's DNA. *Roman's* DNA. That's it, the definitive truth. This man is his brother, has always been his brother.
Bo rubs his eyes with his knuckles and then looks awkwardly up at his brother. Marlena is reminded of a recalcitrant child who has been caught out. The guilt is resonating in his eyes and she can't help but feel for him. Bo's never been good at admitting that he's wrong. He'll fight the truth until the bitter end, find excuses for not accepting it, for ignoring it. But eventually he will come to terms with it. It's Sami she's worried about. She can't even imagine how Sami's going to take the news.
"Roman." Bo's voice is hoarse and breaks as it reaches the end of the loaded word.
Roman slowly smiles. "It's okay, little brother," he says, "I know."
Bo looks at the piece of paper again, biting hard on his lower lip. Then he looks at Roman. Suddenly, without a word, he thrusts the letter back at Hope and turns on his heel, rushing from the room.
Hope sighs. "I'm sorry Roman," she says softly. "It's going to take him a while to get used to it."
"Hey, it's okay," Roman grins ruefully. "I know as well as anyone, what Bo's like. He's a good kid; it's just that he needs to realize that he's not the only one that this affects."
"Oh, I think he knows that," Hope looks towards the door, "I think that's part of the problem. Listen" She waves the paper at them, "I'm going to go and give Abe the good news." She gives Marlena a hopeful smile. "It's really great that... you're okay. It's wonderful that you're okay." She stumbles over her words slightly and Marlena is touched by her nervousness. "I just wanted you to know... I'm sorry too about everything that's happened. We all love you both and we're all going to help you get through this."
She looks as though she's going to say something more, but obviously thinking better of it; she closes her mouth and takes a calming breath. She looks down at the letter and then back at Roman. With a firm nod, she smiles and then turns and exits the room.
Roman turns back to Marlena. "Did that... convince you any?" He raises his eyebrows doubtfully. "Please Doc, we've got to give it some time. We've got to take this one step at a time and deal with the issues, the problems as they arrive. I know it all seems overwhelming right now, but if you trust me, we'll make it through this together."
Marlena's gaze drifts from the doorway back to Roman. She's still biting her lip, but it seems more pensive and thoughtful than distressed now.
Finally, she nods her head. "You know what?" She offers him a reserved smile. "I think you're right. I think we will. There's just one thing, Roman."
"What?" he asks eagerly. "Anything Doc, anything."
"I'll make you a deal. I promise to trust you if you promise to be patient with me. This isn't going to be easy for me. I feel so many emotions right now, I'm not sure I can make any sense of them. But I want to try. For you and for us. For all the time we've lost. I'll be *damned* if I'll let Stefano take anything more away from me."
A look of determination crosses her face and her jaw sets. Roman is immediately reminded of Grace and he can't help but smile. If she's retained even half of Grace's fire and determination, she really will be fine.
They'll both be fine.