The sudden appearance of the reporter and his wife caught him off guard and he had to wait patiently for another opportunity. From what he could see, that second chance would not come to him that evening. Frustration settling in, he ground at his teeth and narrowed his eyes created a deep furor between his eyebrows. The lines formed across his forehead as slinked back further into the darkness and made a quick exit.

He didn’t bother to look over his shoulder. Running the short distance to the fence, he crawled underneath and came up the other side. Brushing the soil and dirt from his clothes, he looked back once more at the house and smiled. The reporter and his wife were just heading out the door now, while Johnson stared once more at the picture before placing it in his pocket and shut off the lamp. No longer able to see them in the dark room, he turned and quickly ran into the grove of trees. His car was parked further down the road and only the owls could see as he ran down the path and reached his car.

**********

Steve felt the sweat pour from his face as he swiped it away with the back of his hand. He had been extra carefully when getting up that morning while putting on a pair of sweats in the dark room. With the morning sun just peaking in the horizon, he scribbled a note and placed it on the mirror before heading out the door. The household was still asleep as he opened the front door and started jogging down the main entrance road.

He felt as if he could have run out there with his eye closed for his body instantly remembered the same path he took. Through the grove of trees he went, heading for the hillside. Steve felt a slight pressure in his lungs as he picked up his pace and ran faster. The last traces of night still surrounded him, tinting the sky with dark gray curtains. Just the barest line began to appear in the horizon as he looked up to see the sun rising and spreading it’s light.

By the time Steve reached the jagged rocky cliff, he was completely out of breath. His back felt drenched as he sat down on the nearest rock to take a much, needed rest. The pounding of his heart echoed loudly in his ears as he gasped sharply and tried to reclaim his breathing. It had gotten lighter now and he could make out the roll of the waves below. The air felt chilly that morning, and the breeze that brushed against him cooled him quickly. Rubbing his hand against his eye, Steve stood up and slowly walked towards the opening in the rocks.

He had looked around, expecting to see some animal nearby, a bird at least, maybe even a squirrel or wild hare, but he was completely alone. The silence seemed so abundant and overwhelming. He couldn’t even find the words to speak, to break the quiet. Instead, he let it grow stronger and stronger. He bit down on his lips as he turned to face the open sea and smelled the saltiness there.

His hair was tussled across his brow as he searched in the endless blue waters for any signs of life. Even this early in the morning a small boat could sometimes be seen, but it was empty and clear. Not even a seagull visited him or ventured near. It made him feel so abandoned and alone. Steve closed his eye, willing himself not to remember. He took several deep breaths to calm himself, but the fear lingered.

There was no longer any need to wish for home, to find his way back. He was not there to stay but to say goodbye in some fashion. The fear, the dread would not go. It edged closer as he stood, waiting for the sun to jump higher in the sky and warm his cold bones. They had no hold on him, their hooks, their claws would not reach, not unless he let them. Steve wished someone would find him then, perhaps another jogger, a local on an early morning stroll, even a blue bird. He looked around him again, at the tall trees, the big rock boulders leaning out towards the cliff, the wild flowers bursting forth in between it’s many tiny cracks, the ragged weeds and bushes that grew haphazardly everywhere.

They surrounded him, but he couldn’t feel any of them. None brought him comfort or aid. They had stood idle now as they did years ago when he would come here to look for home. They were not his friends. They had not helped him. He had not meant to go there again, to see the path he traveled and marked for so many years, but his own need brought him. He wanted to leave. He wanted to say his goodbye, but Steve couldn’t find the words. They were lodged in his throat as the quiet continued and he felt even more lost than before. How could they hold him when they had no chains to bind him? How could they make him fear what was long dead and gone? They could not take away the warmth in his heart, the strength given through love and hope. They could do nothing to him, unless he let them.

Steve fell back against the rocks, feeling their weight pressing down on him, flooding his minds with memories. They were all calling back to him, whispering, pushing, needing to return. He shook and trembled, the tears starting to flow. His voice was lost, hiding, as he buried his face in his hands and cried quietly. The yells and screams echoed in him, while his body crumbled within itself and he fell down to the dirt. He screamed endlessly in his mind, but all the world could hear was the quiet.

**********

Jack was sitting at the breakfast table watching his wife help herself to another piece of toast and jam. So far, it seemed they were the first ones up that morning. Neither said much for a few minutes as the housekeeper brought in a serving dish of eggs and bacon and left it on the sideboard. Jack looked over at the latest addition, hesitating only a second before getting up to fill his plate

Sitting back down, Jennifer eyes his choices, but said nothing. She wasn’t feeling all too well herself that morning. It would have made sense that she didn’t sleep well considering their late night escapades, but it was more because of what they discovered that made her feel wary and out of sorts.

"What time did Elliot say the services were?" Jack didn’t even know if they were expected to attend. He was more interested in seeing what the other discs contained.

"About 9, I think." Jennifer told him.

Checking his watch, Jack tapped at the cover as he looked up and took a drink from his tea. "Well, it’s after 7 am now and no one is up yet."

"It’s still early."

"Early… yes, but I would think people would be hungry especially since hardly anyone ate last night."

Sighing at him, Jennifer got up herself and added some eggs to her plate, forgoing the greasy bacon. Some footsteps echoed just outside the dining room door as Steve came walking in, fresh from his morning run. His face was all flushed and sweaty as he quickly poured himself a glass of juice and downed it all. Taking another glass, he filled that one too and also got a cup of tea.

Jack watched him, waiting for some word on what he expected to do now that they located the picture of Donovan. Pocketing the picture last night, Steve had just told the two of them to go back upstairs. It was too late to discuss what they found then, but it was morning now, so any talks could be opened up and pursued.

"Where do you put it?" Jack asked him as Steve added some honey and lemon to the tea.

"It?" He eyed him back confused.

"The picture of John’s son and Drew Donovan." Jack almost whispered his answer then looked out the door to make sure no lone was listening in.

"It’s upstairs in my room."

"So… when do we tell John?"

"We don’t!"

"What?" Jack yelled out. "We have to!"

"Not yet, Jack."

"Why not? He deserves to know."

"Because I’d like to know what else is in the other discs first. We have sometime this afternoon before our train ride back to look some more. Maybe we’ll find out why Drew appears to have this boy with him."

Jennifer had been thinking all night of why Drew of all people would be involved. She knew the man was former ISA and later worked for Stefano, so it could make sense he was a part of it somehow. But the question was, if he had the boy, where were they all this time? Perhaps they should try and contact Shane about his brother. They all believed Drew had disappeared years ago from Salem hospital and was never heard of again. It wasn’t too hard to presume he got himself killed somehow and Stefano just found himself a new man. But if he was alive somewhere, would Shane be able to help find him?

"Steve?" She asked him. "If the boy was with him… then it means the woman… she was the one who died."

Steve looked back at her and slowly nodded in agreement. He had been reluctant to voice that opinion before, because a part of him wished the opposite was true. But somehow, he always knew she had died that day.

"The report did say two deaths? So who else... I mean if the boy lived?"

Looking down a moment at the cup he held in his hand, Steve didn't answer Jennifer right away. There had just been the four of them that day. If he and the boy lived, that left one other person. For the first time that morning, he actually felt strangely good about something. "The first Gabriel was the second victim."

"But how... you didn't kill him, did you?" Jennifer stared back at him with frightened eyes and he grimaced when he saw the fear there.

"No. It would have been one of the other teams. Failure was not an option. He was purposely... taken care of."

"Dear God!"

"Look you two. I don't want John or Kayla hearing about this yet. Maybe later tonight... or tomorrow would be better, when we're far away from here and in London."

"But what about the other discs and files? "Jack jumped in. "We are taking those with us?"

"Yeah... we are Billy-Jack. Greyson's got no use for them now." Keeping the cup of tea in one hand, he took hold of the glass on juice and made him way out to the hallway. He stopped before going completely out of view and turned back to face the other two. "It's best if you both attend the funeral service and graveside."

Jack stood then, placing his napkin on the nearly empty plate. "Well I was thinking we could try the discs while everyone was at church."

"John will probably do that. I need yo... I'd rather you stay close by. Anyway... I think we owe Elliot that much."

"We'll be there, Steve." Jennifer added as he smiled at her then went up the stairs to bring Kayla some tea and juice.

Jack walked up behind his wife as she watched Steve climb the stairs. She also pushed away at her plate and got up. "I'd rather spend the time looking through the discs." Jack told her as they made their own way back to their bedroom.

"Jack, didn't you see that Steve needs you with him."

"He said it was for Elliot Lansing."

"That's what he said, but what he really meant was he needs us supporting him so he can get through having to be there." Halfway up the stairs, Jennifer paused and stopped her husband in mid-step. "It's going to be hard for him witnessing this burial. Just be there for him okay! I think he really needs as much family as he can near him."

The light bulb didn't come on too quickly that morning, but then again, it was usually slow to lighten to begin with. Jack's mouth formed that infamous O shape as it dawned on him what Jennifer was saying without really saying it. He smiled a bit then, thinking he liked the idea that Steve was depending on him for something. His wife happily grinned back as they ran up the remaining steps and quickly walked down the hall to their room.

"So you did pack some dark clothes right..." He asked her as she shook her head at him then pushed him into their room to get dressed.

**********

The majority of mourners were the local towns folk who lived nearby. Many had known Greyson since he was a child. They were the ones who felt they knew him best, not these strangers who acted distant and stayed at the far rear of the church. Curious glances were cast at them throughout most of the service that one would suspect they were the reason for the gathering rather than the coffin that up at the altar.

When they moved to the graveside, John stayed only a moment before walking back towards the house. The family crypt was on the estate and this time, the few servants attending at the house also joined in. Steve watched as the mourners paid their respects first to Greyson's then to his son. One by one they approached his coffin before going to shake Elliot's hand. Steve, Kayla, Jack, and Jennifer stayed far enough away, not to be in anyone's way, but still close enough to see and hear what was happening. Steve kept his eyes on Greyson's coffin until most of the people departed and it was just Elliot, the house servants and the local minister at the grave.

The coffin was moved and started to lower into the ground. It was then that Steve moved forward a few steps and watched it's decent until it disappeared from view. His face was unreadable as Kayla took his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. Though he didn't look at her, Steve gripped her hand back and pulled her closer to him.

"Go ahead." Jennifer told her husband as Jack hesitated whether or not to move to Steve's side. Shaking his head at his wife, he relented and took a few steps forward. Neither man said anything, but the united front they presented showed the others both men were there together and for each other.

As the gravedigger started piling the dirt back into the hole, Steve looked up and saw Elliot watching him, his face as blank as a slate board. There were neither tears nor sadness in the man's eyes. He couldn't grasp what was going on behind the younger man's face and simply stared back unaware Elliot was doing the same. For several minutes they looked until the last pile of dirt was added and the minister paid his final respects before departing.

The housekeeper approached them first mentioning some refreshments had been set up in the dining room. "Oh thanks." Jack answered for the group. He started to leave, but was pulled back by his wife.

"Steve? Kayla? Are you coming?" Jennifer asked.

Kayla looked to her husband first then back at her sister-in-law. "You go ahead." She told them. "We'll be in later."

Jack looked to the mound of dirt and the arrangements of flowers placed over it. Elliot still stood beside his father's grave, but his eyes were focused on them instead of the mound. "I guess that's that then." He said aloud as Steve finally broke his eye contact with Elliot. "The man's really dead and gone."

"Jack!" His wife cautioned him. She motioned with her head to Elliot who still watched them.

"He didn't hear me."

"Yes he did, Jack." Taking his arm, she started pulling him as they walked back to the front entrance.

Steve glanced a moment at his brother's retreating figure then back at Elliot. He still couldn't read the young man's face. Turning to his wife instead, he gave her a smile and stroked at her cheek with his fingers.

"Do you feel like taking a walk, Sweetness?" He asked.

"That sounds nice."

Taking her hand more firmly in his, he led her away from the burial site and took a short cut across the lawn. When they reached the garden wall, they began to walk the length of it stopping briefly at an apple tree before continuing around the corner. Elliot was left standing by himself for a few minutes before his last guest arrived. When Greyson's solicitor came, he immediately spoke with Elliot who barely acknowledged his presence. After a few exchange of words, they both turned and left for the house.

Steve counted the last few steps that would lead him to the door. There was an excitement inside of him followed by a feeling of dread that made him both anxious and reluctant in the same breath. As the garden gates finally came into view, Steve halted in his steps and let out the breath he had been holding. Inhaling again, he wet his lips and took a couple of steps forward. His hand reached for the handle and turned. Hearing the door unlock, he pushed at the wooden gate and took two steps in, finally entering Lansing's garden.

**********

Elliot sat across the small breakfast table as countless papers were being laid down before him. Technically, what it all came down to was that he would inherit every, or nearly everything.

"You father’s will was quite simple Mr. Lansing. With the exception of your father’s private library collection which he leaves to Benjamin DiMera, you inherit the entire estate and his fortune."

For a man who just became another twenty million pounds richer, he acted rather calm and collected. It amused him more to hear the elder gentleman sitting across address him as Mr. Lansing now. Since Elliot could remember, Mr. Mills had always referred to him as laddie. He had grown up under the man’s watchful eye, knowing someday Elliot would take over for his father. From laddie to Mr. Lansing, it made little difference to Mills as in he hoped to continue as the family solicitor for as long as he could.

"Am I to sign these paper?" Elliot waved his hand over the ones he careful placed on the table.

"They can be signed now, or in a few days. There is no rush… if you want to take a couple of days to collect yourself… that is understandable."

"Not necessary. If you have a pen at hand, we can proceed now."

"Yes Of course." He told him getting to his feet and producing a pen from his breast pocket. "Just sign here." He instructed pointing to all the marked areas.

Standing just over his shoulder the much older and shorter gentlemen kept a careful eye as Elliot signed his name on the dozen or so papers. The bulk of his work is pretty much done at that point. All the name transfers and financial matter would be handled through the court systems leaving Elliot to simply wait for the confirmation in a few short weeks. Other than informing Benjamin of his share, Mill’s services were ended for the day.

He gathered everything back to his briefcase as Elliot stood to face the windows. From where breakfast room was located, he had a clearer view of the garden wall and would spot anyone who emerged from within moments after their departure. For several seconds he watched waiting for the Johnson’s to show. So far the path remained empty.

"Mr. Mills!" He suddenly called out. "What if I were to sell the estate?"

The man stopped and cast a surprised look at him. He cleared his throat and laid his briefcase down on the table before answering. "I hadn’t realized you made a decision reading that matter."

"I haven’t… but it has been on my mind."

The older man smiled slightly at him and took a few steps nearer. "It’s understandable that you were thinking of doing that… but I have seen the same reaction many times over, especially after… after a death in the family. Most times it is just a temporary idea which quickly loses strength."

"But if I were to decide… would finding a buyer be… difficult? Would you say?"

"Not in the least. An estate this grand, rich with history would easily be purchased. But please take the advice of not just your family solicitor, but also as someone who has known you all your life… this is not a matter that should be decided quickly."

Grinning a little, Elliot turns back to look outside. "My cousin feels I should never sell."

"Well… if I may say, perhaps you should follow Mr. DiMera’s advice." He went back to take his belonging before mentioning Benjamin again. "It’s a shame Mr. DiMera wasn’t able to attend. It must have been something quite important to keep him away."

The suggestion made Elliot lift a wary eyebrow at the man who suddenly lowered his eyes fearing he was overstepping his bounds. "My cousin would have been here if he could. I am grieved that he, among others, could not attend."

His thoughts went instantly that those laughing blue eyes again. It had been several minutes since Elliot thought of her, imagining Stephanie here with him, thought not in body, but definitely in spirit. She had emailed him and sent another round of condolences and apologies for not being able to attend.

"I hear he is doing very well running Brymera."

"He always excels in each venture he undertakes."

"Yes, he is an excellent young man." Mills thought a moment longer about the idea of selling the Lansing property and it grew less appealing. "Perhaps you can discuss further with him, this idea of selling the estate. In my own opinion, it shouldn’t be done. Think of your children… it would be something to hand down to them, a large part of their family history."

The new young country squire glanced over his shoulder, watching the still empty path from the garden gate. He narrowed his eyes slightly and he heaved a deep sigh. Pressing his lips tightly together, he moved about the room, reaching for one of the teacups and pot. Pouring himself a drink, he saw Mills still waiting on him for a response, but the notion hadn’t taken root as it did at that moment. Walking back to the windows for another look, he turned slowly and faced the older man smiling.

"Yes… you’re correct. It would be different if I had a family." Turning again, he scanned the pathway one more time. "It would make a great deal of difference… if I was married."

**********

Standing just a few feet inside, Steve remained nearly motionless as he looked around at the countless rows of rose bushes all along the perimeter. He never imagined there would be so many of them, their branches overlapping, their blooms in abundance. The brown bark had already sprung new growth as hundreds of small blooms peeked out from beneath hundred of young baby leaves.

As of yet, the spring had cast still cool temperatures that none dare to come forth to view the world. But it was just a matter of time before all the pinks and peaches, the soft butter yellows and the vibrant ruby reds joined forces to display a plethora of colors among the light and dark shades of green.

Their scents would mingle and infuse with the rich earth and the sweet blades of grass giving a heady perfume found just at the start of summer, when life is at it’s peak. It was all there, just waiting for the right moment to emerge. The years had been kind and it’s repayment justly equal. For the longest moment, he watched drinking it all in, all that his eye had not been allowed to see for ten long years.

It was as beautiful as Steve always imagined and as far and distant as he always felt. He still could not touch it, nor smell, nor embrace. The longing continued to grow, to fester inside of him. It was, as it had always been, on the other side of the wall. Still looking and dreaming, Steve stood just barely in their sanctuary, unwilling to intrude further lest they should shun him or hold him forever.

Neither happy, nor sad, his emotions gave him little incentive to pursue or abandon. He wanted and he needed, to take hold and to leave. This was what he sought and what he needed to say goodbye too. In the end, it all came to him to decide, had it all been worth the countless hours he spent wondering and dreaming? As strong as his desire was to find home, his wish to see had equaled or perhaps surpassed it.

It was there again, the silence, the pausing of a breath, the halt of a heart beat, the stilled movement of motioned stopped. There among the tiny buds his fear returned and stood behind him, waiting for his first move. The shadows crept along his back, fitting themselves between his fingers, ready to clasp his heart so he could not leave.

When Kayla saw the change, the loss and uncertainty that placed it's first veil, she placed her arms around his waist, molding herself to his side. He felt her warmth, her softness and in that simple act Steve understood the difference between his past ghosts, and the life he was given back. No longer the victim, but now the victor. The right to forgive now changed to the need to forget. All wishful chances turned to absolute certainty, Steve need not ask anymore. This time, he just had to decide and move on.

Closing his eye a moment, he inhaled and let the subtle scents fill him. Looking back at Kayla, his smile wavered slightly while hers remained strong and comforting. He had seen all he wanted to see. It was as beautiful as he always dreamed and as empty as it always was and would continue to be. Taking one of Kayla's hands, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "Let's go Sweetness."

If Kayla was confused by her husband's behavior she tried not to show it. They had only been in the garden a little under ten minutes when Steve wanted to leave. It was very pretty in there with the large variety of roses planted everywhere. In the summer when all were in bloom, she could just imagine how fragrant it would be. The scent would be nearly overwhelming , not the mention the colors bursting out from every branch and bush.

They walked quickly through the gate as Steve shut it loudly behind them. His steps quickened as they made a path across the lawn and Kayla started to run to keep up with him. Elliot saw them emerge from around the corner wall and watched their steady progress across. His gaze never left as they finally stopped on the far side and took a seat under one of the stone benches. The tall trees cast shades of varying sizes as the sun peeked through contrasting the gray against the light.

"I shouldn't have worn high heels. It's hard to run in them, you know." Kayla joked as she took a seat and felt the cold stone at her backside. It reminded her of cold marble as she tried to find a more comfortable position. Steve remained standing a minute longer, looking back towards the wall. "It was very beautiful in there."

He glanced down at her suddenly and let out a small bitter laugh. Her hand reached for his, as Steve let some of the fears touch him there and he swallowed uneasily. "I hadn't realized there would be so many." He told her softly

"They must have been planted a long time ago."

"I would think so, Baby." Sitting down next to her, he kept his eye to the ground as she moved closer to him

Kayla gently stroked her fingers through his hair as he looked back up. "You finally got to see what was inside."

"I know."

"Was it hard to be in there? We could have stayed longer if you wanted."

"It's not necessary. I just wanted to know... and now I do."

"Steve... you've been so quiet... I wish you would talk to me?"

Sigh deeply, he pulled her up against him and rubbed his chin against her head. "I'm sorry, Sweetness... it's just this place. I can see myself here, everywhere... as though I never left."

"We could have stayed at the Inn, we shouldn't have come here."

"I know... it would have been so easy... but the past would have haunted me there too. It's always here, in me, just waiting to reveal more of my life here. It almost doesn't matter where I am. Once I remember, it becomes real again and I feel everything."

His arms became steel bands around her, crushing her to him, but Kayla said nothing. It wasn't pain she felt, but his desperation. It hung like a cloud over him, dampening his spirits and making him doubt himself. "I don't know how to stop not... being..."

"Afraid?"

"Ashamed!"

"How could you feel that?" She asked him, her voice breaking at the mere suggestion he had anything to be ashamed of.

"To be ashamed I'm not strong enough in accepting what happened... because it still... it still frightens. And I think if I remain here any longer, I'll feel trapped again."

"But you're not. You're not! There's nothing holding you here. There are no guards, this is no longer your prison. The warden is dead, you saw him buried. He can't hurt you anymore. None of them can."

"They're hurting me now, Baby. I think of what it was like but then... and I feel the pain all over again. It's all merged together here. This place... it looks exactly as I left it. Nothing here has changed. It's all the same... it's all the same."

"Stop! It's not, because you're not the same person anymore. Steve... look at me. Please!" She begged him. He lifted his face to her slowly, hesitant and cautious as she took his face between her hands. "There are no locked doors here."

"But it still feels like there are. All this... it will always be a part of me. I'll never be able to forget." Shifting in his seat, a small ray of sunlight fell down on them and lit up a small patch on his shoulder. "It's like this." He told her, as he point to his eye. "This time, the scar is in here. " His hand touched at his chest. "And it's just as painful and just as permanent."

"But it will heal as your eye healed."

"I won't be the same man."

"No... you won't be. I realize that now. The man who was my husband did die sixteen years ago. He was taken from me... pulled from my heart and hurt... hurt so deeply I still cry for the pain he endured. And now, the man who came home to me... who gives me more love and happiness that I dare to hope for was born from his ashes. He maybe flawed, he maybe scarred, he he still is able to feel and to care and to love. The old Steven Earl Johnson died... but the new one is alive and he is... you."

"I died... but I still live. How crazy is that." Turning to his wife, he leaned in to give her a tender kiss. "And you still love me."

Smiling at him, Kayla gave a small nod of her head. "I still love you." He leaned over again and took her lips in a deeper kiss as she melted into his embrace and wound her arms around his shoulders.

Elliot could see them from the window in the breakfast room. The others had been in his father's office all this time, working away at the discs and papers. He felt no desire to John them in their little search. He preferred to stay right where he was. The view was much more pleasant there.