Once Upon a Dream 29a/?
Title: Once Upon a Dream 29a/?
Author: Kelinswriter
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Rating: NC-17 (for lots of things)
Summary: Starts with the infamous scene with the OPT Pregnancy Test. Spins off from there into its own little universe.
Disclaimer: CBS, P&G, Telenext et. al. owns these characters; I'm just taking them off the shelf and playing with them for a while.
Chapters 1-11
Chapters 12-19
20
21
22a
22b
23
24a
24b
25a
25b
26
27
28a
28b
"Like this." Christina raised Natalia's arm, one hand under her elbow, the other beneath her wrist. She flexed the arm into a bicep curl, easing it downward, then lifting again. "Basically, we do these exercises to help keep the muscle tone intact. I also like to mix in some massage therapy when it's warranted because it helps with circulation and overall well being."
The young physical therapist, who had arrived shortly after Doris dropped by Olivia's breakfast, was clad in blue scrub pants and a smock covered in butterflies, her café au lait skin glowing in the morning sunshine. Her dark eyes were bright and far too cheerful for Olivia's mood. As if losing track of Cyrus and finding out about Greg's betrayal hadn't been bad enough, Olivia had returned to the hospital the night before only to have Doris try to forestall her entry into Natalia's room. "I need to tell you something before you walk in there," Doris said, which of course meant that Olivia had pushed past the mayor, fear roaring through her veins. She plunged inside, immediately noting that Ashlee, true to her word, had gotten the music system set up. The soft strains of piano filled the air, an odd counterpoint to the harsh reality that was Natalia tethered to the bed by an array of medical equipment. Another tube had been added while Olivia was gone; it was yellowish-brown, and ran from a new machine stationed to Natalia's right, across her cheek, and then into her right nostril. Olivia felt her stomach clench, a sob choking out of her as the meaning of the new apparatus washed through her.
"They added it a few hours ago." Doris's voice was soft, an unexpected note of compassion in its tone. "Rick said it's for -"
"Feeding her," Olivia murmured. "He told me this morning, but I didn't think it would be..." She forced herself to look at Natalia, her eyes flooding with tears. "So soon."
She felt Doris rest a gentle hand on her back, just for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and pulled away. "I'll, uh...I'll leave you alone."
Olivia nodded, her eyes still fixed on Natalia. "I need to give you some updates," she called out as Doris neared the door.
"I'll bring you breakfast," Doris said. "Do you need anything else?"
Olivia shrugged off the question, waiting for Doris to leave before she approached the bed. She stood there, taking in everything - Natalia's skin, sallow against the sheets; the white nightgown, now wrinkled after two days of wear; her dark hair, the ends grown tangled from lack of brushing. Then finally the tube bisecting the right side of her face, a bit of tape holding it in place against her cheekbone, the skin puckering where the adhesive grabbed hold. She cupped a hand over Natalia's left cheek, stroking her thumb beneath a fringe of lashes. "Hi, beautiful," she whispered, her voice thick with tears, then leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to Natalia's forehead.
For a moment she could do nothing but hover there, Natalia's face cradled between her hands while she pressed her cheek against the crown of Natalia's head. Then she rose, wiping the tears away, and set about making Natalia more comfortable. It took longer than expected- even in her weakest moments, Natalia had been able to shift and move in ways that helped Olivia with the bathing process. But even with Natalia immobile, there was an overwhelming sense of her presence flickering under the surface, drinking in every touch, every caress. Olivia didn't say much, allowing the music playing in the background to fill the silence as she washed Natalia's skin clean and dressed her in a new lavender nightgown. When she was finished, Olivia brushed Natalia's hair until the ends curled softly against her shoulders. Then she laid down beside her, burying her her nose in those mahogany locks while she whispered a Rafe-free version of the day's events into Natalia's ear.
After a time she fell silent, until there was no sound but the faint music emanating from the speakers that sat on the windowsill. The strains of O Mio Babbino Caro filled the room, the purity of love expressed in the Puccini aria a more refined expression of Olivia's own roiling emotions. "And if my love were in vain, I would go to the Ponte Vecchio and throw myself in the Arno," she translated, her voice a low whisper. "I am being consumed by the torment." She hesitated, then added, "Or maybe I'm just a drama queen."
There had been no answer, not that she had expected one. But when she awoke sometime in the middle of the night to discover that shuffle had alighted on the piece once again, she found an odd sort of clarity in the soprano's final plea. Love this deep doesn't allow for second chances, she thought as she lay there in the darkness, feeling the slow rise and fall of Natalia's chest under her hand. O Dio, vorrie morir. Babbo, pietà, pietà.
Now, even in the clear light of day, those dark thoughts lingered, though it was harder to hold on to them when Christina was singing along to the Dixie Chicks under her breath. "The music is a good idea," the young woman said as she worked the muscles of Natalia's right leg. "If she can hear, it keeps her mind active even when no one is around."
"Oh, she can hear," Olivia said as she helped Christina hold Natalia's leg steady so the physical therapist could rotate Natalia's ankle.
Christina hesitated, her attention focusing on Natalia's face. After a moment, she shifted her attention back to Olivia, her gaze thoughtful. "You're right. You can definitely feel her if you listen."
Olivia couldn't help but beam at the younger woman, her mood lightening as she helped Christina finish up the exercises and resettle Natalia in the bed. After spending a few minutes reviewing a sheet of simple exercises that Olivia could do with Natalia on her own, Christina confirmed Monday for her next scheduled visit. She glanced at her watch and said, "I'm sorry to rush off but I have class in a half hour."
"Thanks for doing this," Olivia said as Christina picked up her backpack.
"I'd be happy to do it even if it weren't my job." Christina's backpack caught on the edge of the bed as she turned toward the door, and an instant later, its contents were spilling out across the tile. "I can't believe I just did that!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees in the midst of her scattered belongings.
"Here, let me help you," Olivia said, crouching at the foot of the bed. She pushed Christina's wallet and sunglasses out from underneath its shadow, craning her neck to see if she could spot anything else. She was just about to get up when she noted a blue felt pouch wedged behind one of the wheels. "Wait, there's this," she said, passing the item to Christina.
"Oh my God, thank you," Christina said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Remy would kill me if I lost that."
Olivia felt a trickle of adrenaline filter into her veins, along with an overwhelming desire to see whatever was hidden in that tiny blue pouch. She forced herself to keep her tone light, allowing just a hint of inquisitiveness as she said, "I find it hard to believe that Remy would want to kill you over anything."
"Oh, he would over this." Christina loosened the drawstring at the top of the pouch, spilling its contents across her palm. "Look what he gave me!"
Olivia's heart pounded as she looked at the quarter inch diameter, European cut diamond sparkling under the fluorescent light. Her hand shook, and she clenched it, willing it to stillness before she gestured toward Christina's hand. "May I?"
"Sure." Christina's brow furrowed in confusion as Olivia lifted the diamond from her palm. "It can't be real, can it? I mean, Remy says it is, but I don't believe him. There's no way he could afford a diamond that big."
"It's definitely big," Olivia said as she held the octagonal stone up to the light. Her mind pinballed from memory to memory at a frantic pace: staring at the replica of the crown jewels in the San Cristobel National Museum on a primary school trip; seeing them for real when she had attended Princess Catherine's coronation; visiting the vault where they were kept on the day Richard proposed to her. There was no doubt in her mind that she was holding the central facet in the ceremonial crown for the Princess of San Cristobel between her fingertips. She felt her blood pressure skyrocket, her limbs trembling at the implications.
"What do you think?" Christina asked.
Olivia jerked her head up, noting that the younger woman was biting her lip, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She groped frantically for a way to play the situation, her eyes narrowing as an avenue presented itself.
"It's beautiful, but I couldn't tell you for sure if it's real." She let the stone drop into the palm of her hand, her fingers curling around it protectively. "If you want, I could ask the jeweler I contract with at The Beacon to take a look. He would be able to make a determination."
"I suppose I should just take the gift and not care if it's real or not," Christina said, her tone laced with guilt over her possible ingratitude. "Remy told me he wanted it to be for my engagement ring, which is crazy, because we just got divorced, but - I mean, if he means it -"
"He means it," Olivia said, her lips curving in a genuine smile. "He adores you."
"Yeah?" Christina shrugged. "So maybe I shouldn't care if it's a real diamond or not."
"But you should care," Olivia said, rising to her feet in one smooth movement. She backstepped toward her purse, the diamond still clutched tightly in her hand. "For insurance purposes if nothing else, you should know if what you have is real. How about I take this to my guy, and he'll get us a report by Tuesday or Wednesday. Then you'll know for sure, and when the time comes, you can make certain that your ring gets the setting it deserves."
Christina chewed on her lip again, and for a moment, Olivia feared the young woman would balk. Then she said, "Oh why not," and shifted her backpack onto her shoulder. "You won't tell anyone else?"
"It'll be our little secret," Olivia assured her, tucking the diamond into the inside pocket of her purse. Her fingers still tingled at the feel of it, and it took every ounce of restraint she had not to grab Christina by the shoulders and rush her out of the room. Instead, she said, "You should hurry. Don't want to miss your class."
"Okay, thanks again." Christina paused, turning to look toward the bed. "Bye, Natalia. I'll see you Monday." Then she was out the door, calling out a quick goodbye to the nurses at the station as she sprinted down the hall.
Olivia waited until she was safely gone before giving in to her elation. "Dropped into my damn lap!" she chortled, crossing to the bed to plant a celebratory kiss on Natalia's cheek. "Thank God she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer." She felt a glimmer of disapproval radiating from Natalia's frame and quickly added, "Okay, fine, that wasn't nice, but still. She gave me the freakin' diamond!" She sat down on the edge of the bed, entwining her fingers with Natalia's. "Besides, you of all people should know that I have a knack for persuading pretty girls to give up their engagement rings. Or, y'know, put them on."
She looked down at Natalia, and she could almost see the rolled eyes and head shake that she would get at the comment, all but hear the "You're not funny" that meant that Natalia thought she was hilarious but didn't want to give her the satisfaction of showing it. She grinned, pulling Natalia's hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Now I just have to corner Remy and Cyrus and bully those weasels into giving up the rest. But first..."
She heard a loud, all-too-familiar throat clearing itself behind her with theatrical aggressiveness. "Shit," she muttered, squeezing Natalia's hand in apology, before shifting around so she could look toward the door. "Alan. Nice to see you. Not."
"Olivia." Alan ran his eyes over her frame, taking in the black yoga pants, white tank top, and gray hooded sweatshirt that had been her sleep attire. "You're looking suitably frumpy."
"Bite me." Olivia got to her feet, taking a few steps toward the older man. "You want to tell me what you're doing here?"
"I'm here to visit Natalia, of course." Alan looked over Olivia's shoulder. "It doesn't appear that she's doing all that well."
"She's in a coma," Olivia snapped. "Which is where you will be again if you don't get the hell out of this room."
"Now, Olivia. Such hostility can't be good for Natalia." Alan broadened his shoulders, his impeccably tailored blue suit jacket shifting over his crisp linen shirt. He loomed over her, his blue eyes measuring. "I'm very sorry to hear that she's not well, but I must admit that my concern for her pales over my worry for Emma."
"Emma's fine." Phillip would have told me if she wasn't fine,Olivia added to herself. Unless... "Did Lizzie shoot off her mouth and tell her about Natalia?"
"No, of course not." Alan looked affronted at the comment. "No one has done anything to disrupt Emma's well being. We've all followed Phillip's request that we not say anything about Natalia's condition until you've had a chance to tell her. But clearly your concern for your -" He hesitated, searching for the right word. "For Natalia has clouded your judgment where your daughter is concerned."
"Our daughter is always my first priority," Olivia said, the guilt she felt at Alan's accusation giving her voice an extra edge. "If Emma sees me, she's going to know something is wrong with Natalia, and I wanted to shield her from that until we knew more about what was happening."
"And what exactly is happening?" Alan asked. "I mean, do we know if Natalia will ever wake up?"
"How - you -" Olivia planted a hand in the middle of Alan's chest and pushed him back toward the bathroom. Shoving him inside, she pulled the door shut behind her, trapping them both within the small space.
"How very dignified," Alan said, his voice sardonic. "Fighting in an institutional bathroom the size of a postage stamp."
"We're in here because I don't want you saying those things in front of Natalia," Olivia hissed. "If I catch you doing that again, I will have you banned from the room."
"Fine, I apologize for being negative about Natalia's medical prognosis when she could hear me," Alan said. "Though, as you said, she is in a coma."
"Which you of all people should know may not mean that she can't hear." Olivia's voice pitched upward, adrenaline-fueled fury hitting her system. "What brought you out of your crypt, anyway? Is this a general lecture on my bad parenting skills, or do you have a point?"
"My point is that the world does not stop just because your girlfriend fell asleep," Alan bellowed. "You have other obligations and responsibilities. Primarily, your family."
"Natalia is my family. As is Emma and Ava." Olivia narrowed her eyes at Alan. "If you think I've forgotten about that for an instant, you're crazy...er."
"And what about Rafael, Olivia? How does he fit into this modern family of yours?" Disdain laced Alan's words, layering each one with contempt.
"Rafe is -" Olivia took a breath, willing her temper down a notch. "Rafe is unhappy, but he's still part of our family. He always will be."
"What if he doesn't want to be?" Alan asked. "Perhaps he would prefer something more stable and respectable."
"Alan, your 'respectable' family makes the Mansons look like the Brady Bunch." Olivia tilted her head to the side, considering. "What gives, anyway? I thought you of all people would be happy that I'm letting Emma stay at the Mansion and spend time with Phillip."
"I am pleased to have so much time with her," Alan said. "As is Alexandra. And I know Emma greatly enjoys spending time with Phillip and with Peyton."
"Then what, exactly, is your problem?" Olivia couldn't help but shout.
"I feel the need to remind you that you should not get too complacent about your daughter." Alan drew himself up straight, his jaw tightening. "Things with Phillip are not always as they seem. Now if you'll excuse me." He took a step forward, hand outstretched toward the bathroom doorknob.
"Whoa, hey, whoa," Olivia said, slamming herself back so hard that she jammed the doorknob into the small of her back. She winced as the pain jolted up her spine. "What the hell are you talking about? Is Phillip acting crazy again?"
"Phillip is a headstrong man who sometimes makes bad choices. He doesn't ask for help when he should." Alan gestured toward the door. "Now would you be kind enough to let me out before we both suffocate from the smell of industrial solvents?"
Olivia studied Alan for a moment, trying to decide if he was making a real point or just stirring up trouble for the fun of it. Probably a little of both, she thought as she reached behind her and twisted the knob. She backed into the hallway, holding her hand out toward the main entrance to the room in an unmistakable order.
Alan gave her a condescending look, then acquiesced, his thousand dollar shoes squeaking on the tile as he departed. When he was gone, Olivia threw her hands in the air, her middle fingers raised a tad higher than necessary as she felt a mix of relief, frustration, and exhaustion roll through her. Underneath it all was an old fear, one that she had dared to dream could be safely put away.
Closing the bathroom door, she went back into the main room and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Natalia's hand. "Sorry about the riff-raff," she murmured, stroking her thumb over Natalia's wrist. "Here Christina had you feeling all relaxed and endorphin-y, and then Alan had to show up, trying to wind me up about Phillip."
She closed her eyes, seeking some sense of Natalia's counsel on the subject. No words came to her, no reassurance - nothing but the faint rasp of Bono's voice, singing, "Listen to me now, I need to let you to know, you don't have to go it alone..."
"Talking to me through the iPod," she murmured as she curled onto her side, one arm thrown protectively over Natalia's frame. "How'd you do that?"
She closed her eyes and buried her face in Natalia's shoulder, feeling her love's strength wrap around her, even in her stillness.
"I can do this," Olivia murmured. "As long as you're still here, I can do whatever needs doing."
Author's note: Though I have no desire to turn this into a song fic, here are links to the two pieces referenced in this chapter:
O Mio Babbino Caro
Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own
Author: Kelinswriter
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Rating: NC-17 (for lots of things)
Summary: Starts with the infamous scene with the OPT Pregnancy Test. Spins off from there into its own little universe.
Disclaimer: CBS, P&G, Telenext et. al. owns these characters; I'm just taking them off the shelf and playing with them for a while.
Chapters 1-11
Chapters 12-19
20
21
22a
22b
23
24a
24b
25a
25b
26
27
28a
28b
"Like this." Christina raised Natalia's arm, one hand under her elbow, the other beneath her wrist. She flexed the arm into a bicep curl, easing it downward, then lifting again. "Basically, we do these exercises to help keep the muscle tone intact. I also like to mix in some massage therapy when it's warranted because it helps with circulation and overall well being."
The young physical therapist, who had arrived shortly after Doris dropped by Olivia's breakfast, was clad in blue scrub pants and a smock covered in butterflies, her café au lait skin glowing in the morning sunshine. Her dark eyes were bright and far too cheerful for Olivia's mood. As if losing track of Cyrus and finding out about Greg's betrayal hadn't been bad enough, Olivia had returned to the hospital the night before only to have Doris try to forestall her entry into Natalia's room. "I need to tell you something before you walk in there," Doris said, which of course meant that Olivia had pushed past the mayor, fear roaring through her veins. She plunged inside, immediately noting that Ashlee, true to her word, had gotten the music system set up. The soft strains of piano filled the air, an odd counterpoint to the harsh reality that was Natalia tethered to the bed by an array of medical equipment. Another tube had been added while Olivia was gone; it was yellowish-brown, and ran from a new machine stationed to Natalia's right, across her cheek, and then into her right nostril. Olivia felt her stomach clench, a sob choking out of her as the meaning of the new apparatus washed through her.
"They added it a few hours ago." Doris's voice was soft, an unexpected note of compassion in its tone. "Rick said it's for -"
"Feeding her," Olivia murmured. "He told me this morning, but I didn't think it would be..." She forced herself to look at Natalia, her eyes flooding with tears. "So soon."
She felt Doris rest a gentle hand on her back, just for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and pulled away. "I'll, uh...I'll leave you alone."
Olivia nodded, her eyes still fixed on Natalia. "I need to give you some updates," she called out as Doris neared the door.
"I'll bring you breakfast," Doris said. "Do you need anything else?"
Olivia shrugged off the question, waiting for Doris to leave before she approached the bed. She stood there, taking in everything - Natalia's skin, sallow against the sheets; the white nightgown, now wrinkled after two days of wear; her dark hair, the ends grown tangled from lack of brushing. Then finally the tube bisecting the right side of her face, a bit of tape holding it in place against her cheekbone, the skin puckering where the adhesive grabbed hold. She cupped a hand over Natalia's left cheek, stroking her thumb beneath a fringe of lashes. "Hi, beautiful," she whispered, her voice thick with tears, then leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to Natalia's forehead.
For a moment she could do nothing but hover there, Natalia's face cradled between her hands while she pressed her cheek against the crown of Natalia's head. Then she rose, wiping the tears away, and set about making Natalia more comfortable. It took longer than expected- even in her weakest moments, Natalia had been able to shift and move in ways that helped Olivia with the bathing process. But even with Natalia immobile, there was an overwhelming sense of her presence flickering under the surface, drinking in every touch, every caress. Olivia didn't say much, allowing the music playing in the background to fill the silence as she washed Natalia's skin clean and dressed her in a new lavender nightgown. When she was finished, Olivia brushed Natalia's hair until the ends curled softly against her shoulders. Then she laid down beside her, burying her her nose in those mahogany locks while she whispered a Rafe-free version of the day's events into Natalia's ear.
After a time she fell silent, until there was no sound but the faint music emanating from the speakers that sat on the windowsill. The strains of O Mio Babbino Caro filled the room, the purity of love expressed in the Puccini aria a more refined expression of Olivia's own roiling emotions. "And if my love were in vain, I would go to the Ponte Vecchio and throw myself in the Arno," she translated, her voice a low whisper. "I am being consumed by the torment." She hesitated, then added, "Or maybe I'm just a drama queen."
There had been no answer, not that she had expected one. But when she awoke sometime in the middle of the night to discover that shuffle had alighted on the piece once again, she found an odd sort of clarity in the soprano's final plea. Love this deep doesn't allow for second chances, she thought as she lay there in the darkness, feeling the slow rise and fall of Natalia's chest under her hand. O Dio, vorrie morir. Babbo, pietà, pietà.
Now, even in the clear light of day, those dark thoughts lingered, though it was harder to hold on to them when Christina was singing along to the Dixie Chicks under her breath. "The music is a good idea," the young woman said as she worked the muscles of Natalia's right leg. "If she can hear, it keeps her mind active even when no one is around."
"Oh, she can hear," Olivia said as she helped Christina hold Natalia's leg steady so the physical therapist could rotate Natalia's ankle.
Christina hesitated, her attention focusing on Natalia's face. After a moment, she shifted her attention back to Olivia, her gaze thoughtful. "You're right. You can definitely feel her if you listen."
Olivia couldn't help but beam at the younger woman, her mood lightening as she helped Christina finish up the exercises and resettle Natalia in the bed. After spending a few minutes reviewing a sheet of simple exercises that Olivia could do with Natalia on her own, Christina confirmed Monday for her next scheduled visit. She glanced at her watch and said, "I'm sorry to rush off but I have class in a half hour."
"Thanks for doing this," Olivia said as Christina picked up her backpack.
"I'd be happy to do it even if it weren't my job." Christina's backpack caught on the edge of the bed as she turned toward the door, and an instant later, its contents were spilling out across the tile. "I can't believe I just did that!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees in the midst of her scattered belongings.
"Here, let me help you," Olivia said, crouching at the foot of the bed. She pushed Christina's wallet and sunglasses out from underneath its shadow, craning her neck to see if she could spot anything else. She was just about to get up when she noted a blue felt pouch wedged behind one of the wheels. "Wait, there's this," she said, passing the item to Christina.
"Oh my God, thank you," Christina said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Remy would kill me if I lost that."
Olivia felt a trickle of adrenaline filter into her veins, along with an overwhelming desire to see whatever was hidden in that tiny blue pouch. She forced herself to keep her tone light, allowing just a hint of inquisitiveness as she said, "I find it hard to believe that Remy would want to kill you over anything."
"Oh, he would over this." Christina loosened the drawstring at the top of the pouch, spilling its contents across her palm. "Look what he gave me!"
Olivia's heart pounded as she looked at the quarter inch diameter, European cut diamond sparkling under the fluorescent light. Her hand shook, and she clenched it, willing it to stillness before she gestured toward Christina's hand. "May I?"
"Sure." Christina's brow furrowed in confusion as Olivia lifted the diamond from her palm. "It can't be real, can it? I mean, Remy says it is, but I don't believe him. There's no way he could afford a diamond that big."
"It's definitely big," Olivia said as she held the octagonal stone up to the light. Her mind pinballed from memory to memory at a frantic pace: staring at the replica of the crown jewels in the San Cristobel National Museum on a primary school trip; seeing them for real when she had attended Princess Catherine's coronation; visiting the vault where they were kept on the day Richard proposed to her. There was no doubt in her mind that she was holding the central facet in the ceremonial crown for the Princess of San Cristobel between her fingertips. She felt her blood pressure skyrocket, her limbs trembling at the implications.
"What do you think?" Christina asked.
Olivia jerked her head up, noting that the younger woman was biting her lip, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She groped frantically for a way to play the situation, her eyes narrowing as an avenue presented itself.
"It's beautiful, but I couldn't tell you for sure if it's real." She let the stone drop into the palm of her hand, her fingers curling around it protectively. "If you want, I could ask the jeweler I contract with at The Beacon to take a look. He would be able to make a determination."
"I suppose I should just take the gift and not care if it's real or not," Christina said, her tone laced with guilt over her possible ingratitude. "Remy told me he wanted it to be for my engagement ring, which is crazy, because we just got divorced, but - I mean, if he means it -"
"He means it," Olivia said, her lips curving in a genuine smile. "He adores you."
"Yeah?" Christina shrugged. "So maybe I shouldn't care if it's a real diamond or not."
"But you should care," Olivia said, rising to her feet in one smooth movement. She backstepped toward her purse, the diamond still clutched tightly in her hand. "For insurance purposes if nothing else, you should know if what you have is real. How about I take this to my guy, and he'll get us a report by Tuesday or Wednesday. Then you'll know for sure, and when the time comes, you can make certain that your ring gets the setting it deserves."
Christina chewed on her lip again, and for a moment, Olivia feared the young woman would balk. Then she said, "Oh why not," and shifted her backpack onto her shoulder. "You won't tell anyone else?"
"It'll be our little secret," Olivia assured her, tucking the diamond into the inside pocket of her purse. Her fingers still tingled at the feel of it, and it took every ounce of restraint she had not to grab Christina by the shoulders and rush her out of the room. Instead, she said, "You should hurry. Don't want to miss your class."
"Okay, thanks again." Christina paused, turning to look toward the bed. "Bye, Natalia. I'll see you Monday." Then she was out the door, calling out a quick goodbye to the nurses at the station as she sprinted down the hall.
Olivia waited until she was safely gone before giving in to her elation. "Dropped into my damn lap!" she chortled, crossing to the bed to plant a celebratory kiss on Natalia's cheek. "Thank God she's not the sharpest knife in the drawer." She felt a glimmer of disapproval radiating from Natalia's frame and quickly added, "Okay, fine, that wasn't nice, but still. She gave me the freakin' diamond!" She sat down on the edge of the bed, entwining her fingers with Natalia's. "Besides, you of all people should know that I have a knack for persuading pretty girls to give up their engagement rings. Or, y'know, put them on."
She looked down at Natalia, and she could almost see the rolled eyes and head shake that she would get at the comment, all but hear the "You're not funny" that meant that Natalia thought she was hilarious but didn't want to give her the satisfaction of showing it. She grinned, pulling Natalia's hand to her lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. "Now I just have to corner Remy and Cyrus and bully those weasels into giving up the rest. But first..."
She heard a loud, all-too-familiar throat clearing itself behind her with theatrical aggressiveness. "Shit," she muttered, squeezing Natalia's hand in apology, before shifting around so she could look toward the door. "Alan. Nice to see you. Not."
"Olivia." Alan ran his eyes over her frame, taking in the black yoga pants, white tank top, and gray hooded sweatshirt that had been her sleep attire. "You're looking suitably frumpy."
"Bite me." Olivia got to her feet, taking a few steps toward the older man. "You want to tell me what you're doing here?"
"I'm here to visit Natalia, of course." Alan looked over Olivia's shoulder. "It doesn't appear that she's doing all that well."
"She's in a coma," Olivia snapped. "Which is where you will be again if you don't get the hell out of this room."
"Now, Olivia. Such hostility can't be good for Natalia." Alan broadened his shoulders, his impeccably tailored blue suit jacket shifting over his crisp linen shirt. He loomed over her, his blue eyes measuring. "I'm very sorry to hear that she's not well, but I must admit that my concern for her pales over my worry for Emma."
"Emma's fine." Phillip would have told me if she wasn't fine,Olivia added to herself. Unless... "Did Lizzie shoot off her mouth and tell her about Natalia?"
"No, of course not." Alan looked affronted at the comment. "No one has done anything to disrupt Emma's well being. We've all followed Phillip's request that we not say anything about Natalia's condition until you've had a chance to tell her. But clearly your concern for your -" He hesitated, searching for the right word. "For Natalia has clouded your judgment where your daughter is concerned."
"Our daughter is always my first priority," Olivia said, the guilt she felt at Alan's accusation giving her voice an extra edge. "If Emma sees me, she's going to know something is wrong with Natalia, and I wanted to shield her from that until we knew more about what was happening."
"And what exactly is happening?" Alan asked. "I mean, do we know if Natalia will ever wake up?"
"How - you -" Olivia planted a hand in the middle of Alan's chest and pushed him back toward the bathroom. Shoving him inside, she pulled the door shut behind her, trapping them both within the small space.
"How very dignified," Alan said, his voice sardonic. "Fighting in an institutional bathroom the size of a postage stamp."
"We're in here because I don't want you saying those things in front of Natalia," Olivia hissed. "If I catch you doing that again, I will have you banned from the room."
"Fine, I apologize for being negative about Natalia's medical prognosis when she could hear me," Alan said. "Though, as you said, she is in a coma."
"Which you of all people should know may not mean that she can't hear." Olivia's voice pitched upward, adrenaline-fueled fury hitting her system. "What brought you out of your crypt, anyway? Is this a general lecture on my bad parenting skills, or do you have a point?"
"My point is that the world does not stop just because your girlfriend fell asleep," Alan bellowed. "You have other obligations and responsibilities. Primarily, your family."
"Natalia is my family. As is Emma and Ava." Olivia narrowed her eyes at Alan. "If you think I've forgotten about that for an instant, you're crazy...er."
"And what about Rafael, Olivia? How does he fit into this modern family of yours?" Disdain laced Alan's words, layering each one with contempt.
"Rafe is -" Olivia took a breath, willing her temper down a notch. "Rafe is unhappy, but he's still part of our family. He always will be."
"What if he doesn't want to be?" Alan asked. "Perhaps he would prefer something more stable and respectable."
"Alan, your 'respectable' family makes the Mansons look like the Brady Bunch." Olivia tilted her head to the side, considering. "What gives, anyway? I thought you of all people would be happy that I'm letting Emma stay at the Mansion and spend time with Phillip."
"I am pleased to have so much time with her," Alan said. "As is Alexandra. And I know Emma greatly enjoys spending time with Phillip and with Peyton."
"Then what, exactly, is your problem?" Olivia couldn't help but shout.
"I feel the need to remind you that you should not get too complacent about your daughter." Alan drew himself up straight, his jaw tightening. "Things with Phillip are not always as they seem. Now if you'll excuse me." He took a step forward, hand outstretched toward the bathroom doorknob.
"Whoa, hey, whoa," Olivia said, slamming herself back so hard that she jammed the doorknob into the small of her back. She winced as the pain jolted up her spine. "What the hell are you talking about? Is Phillip acting crazy again?"
"Phillip is a headstrong man who sometimes makes bad choices. He doesn't ask for help when he should." Alan gestured toward the door. "Now would you be kind enough to let me out before we both suffocate from the smell of industrial solvents?"
Olivia studied Alan for a moment, trying to decide if he was making a real point or just stirring up trouble for the fun of it. Probably a little of both, she thought as she reached behind her and twisted the knob. She backed into the hallway, holding her hand out toward the main entrance to the room in an unmistakable order.
Alan gave her a condescending look, then acquiesced, his thousand dollar shoes squeaking on the tile as he departed. When he was gone, Olivia threw her hands in the air, her middle fingers raised a tad higher than necessary as she felt a mix of relief, frustration, and exhaustion roll through her. Underneath it all was an old fear, one that she had dared to dream could be safely put away.
Closing the bathroom door, she went back into the main room and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking Natalia's hand. "Sorry about the riff-raff," she murmured, stroking her thumb over Natalia's wrist. "Here Christina had you feeling all relaxed and endorphin-y, and then Alan had to show up, trying to wind me up about Phillip."
She closed her eyes, seeking some sense of Natalia's counsel on the subject. No words came to her, no reassurance - nothing but the faint rasp of Bono's voice, singing, "Listen to me now, I need to let you to know, you don't have to go it alone..."
"Talking to me through the iPod," she murmured as she curled onto her side, one arm thrown protectively over Natalia's frame. "How'd you do that?"
She closed her eyes and buried her face in Natalia's shoulder, feeling her love's strength wrap around her, even in her stillness.
"I can do this," Olivia murmured. "As long as you're still here, I can do whatever needs doing."
Author's note: Though I have no desire to turn this into a song fic, here are links to the two pieces referenced in this chapter:
O Mio Babbino Caro
Sometimes You Can't Make it On Your Own